#Free Courses Geography

[lbhslefttiddie]

my teacher for weather and climate gave us a main textbook which is the one we reference and need to read throughout the course and then three EXTRA optional textbooks for supplemental learning, with varying levels of technicality for those interested, and in the links she provided every single one was available online for free (in the creative commons sense, not the piracy sense, since obv that could get a teacher in trouble) and i could kiss her on the mouth

[aeolianblues]

good god girl, maybe some of us are not vegan because we eat chicken like once in three months?? Would reduction not be a more productive goal of vegan activism than outright banning? Like if your arguments are that animals are being eaten, then you’re being unrealistic about the entire actual concept of the food chain. Humans are omnivores, you do not need to change that to achieve your goals.

A vegan lifestyle is also entirely the product of your geographical location. If you live somewhere that shit does not grow, what are you going to do?? I just think about the difference between food options in India and Canada, for example. India: between the tropics (tropics and equator even, in fact). All-year-round sun, there’s pretty much always stuff growing. Different kinds of land will mean you can grow everything from staples like rice and wheat to vegetables, fruits and plantation crops. It’s reflected in the cuisines: Indian food has a much, much wider offering of vegetarian food, and many more Indians have restricted diets that more or less overlap with vegetarianism. Because crops grows. Locally.

Canada. Harvest in the fall, from November to March, your fields are practically unusable. Compare the prices of fresh produce in (and now I’m being generous to give you a highly populated, non-remote province here for an example) Ontario. Ontario has farms where in the fall you get fresh autumn vegetables and fruits. You’ll also get them in larger quantities. It is way cheaper, fresher and also uses less energy and fuel to transport the vegetables like 50 km from farm to market.

Come the winter and nothing grows. If you look at most vegetables you’ll find on store shelves in December or February, and most of it is either imported from warmer regions of the US (often the case for chains that are in both countries) or from South American countries (sometimes SA -> USA -> Canada). The importing has to go through cross-country customs, had to be driven for days, is less fresh or rich in nutrients by the time you get it, and is more expensive. Of course. And we all come out of it poorer. Is it any wonder why people will eat meat? We’re even talking here about a place like Ontario, very well connected on North American trade routes. Can you justify someone in Yukon deciding to eat meat over a $17/lb. green veg? Be for fucking real…

There simply cannot be a blanket-global solution to animal products. You’ve got to work with what your geography has to offer. It’s the same thing we say when we say that avocados have an environmental cost when you expect them to be available year-round in places they don’t grow. We encourage people to go for more local produce there, and I think the same should go for all parts of your diet too. If your animals are local, then their footprint is lower than importing kiwis from New Zealand to the US. I don’t see how that’s hard to understand.

[jaellyfishh]

The Corner Where We Met · Part 2

trope: art teacher!azzi x PE teacher! paige

content warning: initial slowburn, mention of blood, smut

word count: 6K

It was a dry week since Paige and Azzi’s last encounter, after all, the school days required a lot more of their time as the academic year advanced. Fudd had been too busy filling in her colleagues' place in high school art class, who had called off sick from a ‘stomach bug’. This was not a rare occurrence seeing that it would happen multiple times throughout her four years at Moore. Fudd feared Principal Auriemma would be in talks to lay her colleague off soon and she might have to fill in her position for a while before they could find a replacement.

Recruiting was not going so well at Moore as of late. With the exception of our new PE teacher, of course, Azzi thought.

Speaking of Paige Bueckers, she stood well on business having done tremendous changes on the uninteresting routines and archaic equipment of her PE classes, picking up the pieces from where the previous teachers left off. She used the best of her network to outsource companies and connect with sporting organisers, all in the hopes of keeping the kids' curiosity and passion for PE well and alive. And it showed. Their excitement buzzing during every lesson before PE, much to some of the teachers’ dismay.

Prrrrrrt!

The sound of the whistle rang as Paige and the two other teachers beside her stopped the warmups, the crowd of kids now in a stand-still scattered across the gym.

The two-day basketball and volleyball tryouts for Moore’s annual October Sports Day had just begun and the gym has welcomed an influx of what seemed like almost half the school already. The students were in much anticipation over the week, with the participation list for other sports activities which Paige had pinned on their bulletin board even being overflown with scribbles of names past the margin.

“Alright, that was good! Now, listen up! Middle schoolers will go to the left side of the court with Ms. Edwards, high schoolers will go to the right with Ms. Mühl! We’re gonna do a couple of drills - dribbling, passing and shooting! If you don’t play your best, you won’t make it with the rest! Let’s move it!”

Obviously, Paige knew they wouldn't have enough students for a team even if they wanted to weed the worse ones out, but anything to scare them into doing better - as Paige loved to strategise. Her role today was to oversee the entire tryouts, making sure everything was on schedule. She recruited Aaliyah Edwards from Geography and Nika Mühl from History after digging information on their past [having a normal conversation] during their lunch breaks and finding out they played basketball as a hobby.

Principal Auriemma was able to coordinate with his VP, Christine ‘CD’ Dailey, to arrange free periods for the three teachers in the days where tryouts were being held.

And somewhere in the scheduling, Fudd had her free periods aligned with theirs.

A certain curly brunette peeked her head into the gym with curiosity. She could recognise her students from a distance, the faces of the middle school boys and girls smiling while throwing airballs with all their might. Her eyes panned to the blonde observing them, whose head shook in disapproval. Azzi stifled a snicker.

She slowly sneaked her way inside, dodging a few basketballs and turbulent students before she was within arms reach of Bueckers. It seems the taller woman didn’t notice as she was too laser-focused on the mayhem unfolding in front of her, the loudness of the shoes squeaking and basketballs bouncing overstimulating her.

“Hey,” Azzi poked at Paige’s arm, startling her this time. The taller woman’s expression went from displeasure to a softer, surprised smile.

“Ms. Fudd, long time no see. I had to think you’ve been avoiding me,” Bueckers jokes, trying to contain her excitement.

Azzi sweetly scoffed while giving her a stare. “I thought you needed your space, you know, being overwhelmed by all this stalking.”

Bueckers laughed at her satire. “So you finally admit it?”

“They were your words, not mine”. Azzi pointed to the crowd. “How’s it going?”

“It’s…going. They’re doing their best, alright?” Paige scrunched her face as Azzi laughed. “What are you doing here, anyways? Came to see me?”

“Oh, please, don’t start,” Azzi rolled her eyes. “I have a free period until lunch. I figured I could see how my kids were doing. They sounded really excited to participate during class, you know? I think you’re making great changes for them here”

Paige stared at Azzi with a proud smile. “I’m honestly so glad to hear that. If I keep this up, can I expect these kinda visits for the kids more often?

And yet another one of Paige’s flirtatious antics, not that Azzi minded anyways. In fact, she did miss them a fair bit.

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing that?” Fudd smiled at Paige, who was licking her lips as she stared back.

“Depends who I do it to”

As the pair exchanged flirtatious words, distracted in their own world. They didn’t notice a basketball hurling towards them.

“MS. FUDD WATCH OUT!” Ms. Watkins yelled, but it was too late.

Paige couldn’t react quick enough to catch the ball before the momentum struck Azzi smack centre on her face causing her to stumble backwards. In a flash, Beuckers was able to pull her into her chest before she could fall.

Azzi’s face grimaced, her nose painful from both scrunching and relaxing. She was in shock, her expression unreadable as her brain tried to register what had just happened.

“Azzi, are you okay?” Paige softly asked with a sense of urgency, shaking her body only once to wake her senses up.

“I-“

Azzi could only croak before her nose started bleeding.

With widened eyes and a chorus of gasps echoing the gym, Paige immediately whipped out a handkerchief from one of her pockets and pressed it over Azzi’s nose.

“Pinch your nostrils and breathe through your mouth. I’m taking you to the clinic”

And before anyone knew it, the tall blonde swooped Azzi off her feet, carrying her bridal style as the adrenaline rushed through her blood. Paige quickly marched out the doors determinedly, the woman in her arms muffling an ‘I’m so sorry��� before the blonde was quick to dismiss it.

“It’s okay, everyone! Ms. Fudd will be in good hands. Don’t worry!” Was all the pair could hear faintly by Ms. Edwards before they were completely out of everyone’s sight.

Up the front of the hallway near the entrance, Paige frantically knocked on the glass window of the school clinic, the inside of the room blocked by horizontal blinds. As the door swung open, the blonde immediately pushed her way inside. The school’s nurse gasped at the sudden action, watching Bueckers lay Azzi gently upright on the bed, her arms still steadying her upper body.

“Ms. Bueckers? A-Azzi?”

“Nurse Williams, could you grab a pack of ice, please?” A concerned look spread across Paige’s face.

“Of course! Lower her head slightly forward,” The uniformed lady instructed before grabbing an ice pack from the freezer.

The two worked in quick tandem attending to the injured Fudd. And soon after five minutes had passed, the situation stabilised as the bleeding had come to a stop.

“You guys are doing great,” a dazed Azzi could only mumble, wiping her nose clean with a new towel. Paige was seated next to her, her hand growing cold as she pressed the ice pack near her nose bridge, while her other arm wrapped around Azzi’s waist to keep her close.

“Ms. Bueckers, I can take over from here, thank you,” Nurse Williams stood beside them, her hand on Azzi’s back.

“No, I, uh- is it alright if I stay with her?” Paige stuttered.

“Don’t you have to head back to the gym?”

“I just wanna make sure Ms. Fudd’s alright. Don’t worry, Ms. Edwards and Ms. Mühl got me covered,” Paige quickly reasoned.

Conveniently, the bell rang for lunch before Nurse Williams could utter another word. She looked at the door and back to the pair in front of her.

“Alright, sure. I’m going to get lunch for us while you both stay here, okay? Did you guys put yours in the fridge?”

Paige answered with no hesitation. “Mine’s a pastel purple bag. It should be next to Ms. Fudd’s, the bright pink one?”

Nurse Williams raised her eyebrows in amusement before heading out, closing the door behind her.

“I always wondered why my lunch bag had new company, it was you,” Azzi smiled dopily at the blonde.

Paige chuckled, licking her lips. “Yeah, she looked kinda lonely in the cold, you know?”

The pair giggled before Azzi brushed her hand on top of Paige, wanting to hold the ice pack instead.

“Hey, don’t think I didn’t notice you carrying me bridal style all the way down the hall. I honestly didn’t expect it,” Azzi smiled widely.

Paige contorted her face in disbelief. “What, you didn’t think I lift? There’s a reason I teach PE. Besides, you were too light for me.”

“Okay, I dunno if I should take that as a compliment or not. I pride myself in my muscles,” Azzi flexed her free arm, her biceps protruding, evidence that she works out.

“Mmm… yeah, they do look good,” Paige muttered almost too sensually without thinking, her eyes entranced on Azzi’s arm. “Oh,” was all Paige could croak before her eyes widened as she realised what she had blurted out.

Azzi bursted out in laughter. “Did I just make Paige Bueckers flustered?”

“Mmm, no, I don’t think you did,” She quickly shook her head dismissively.

“Aw, you’re turning red,” Azzi teased, her head tilting to the side.

Paige’s cheeks lifted from a sheepish closed smile, the warmth surfacing. “God forbid a woman can’t compliment another woman!”

“Well, no one’s stopping you. I was just…celebrating a li’l.” The curly brunette eased in her hysterics before giving Paige a sly smile, almost seductive. “God forbid a woman can’t tease”.

The blonde’s head twitched. “You always think you can one-up me, do you?”

“I just have unwavering confidence,” Azzi voiced flirtatiously, her eyes hooded.

“Oh yeah? Unwavering, hm…” Paige sighed, her voice low in an almost whisper.

Then she trailed her eyes down to Azzi’s lips. Her touch around Azzi’s waist was electrifying as she pulled her noticeably closer. Fudd’s breath hitched, it was the first time she was in such close proximity to Bueckers; thighs touching, chests almost together, her brown eyes trapped in blue ones in front of her. It took everything in Azzi not to look down at her lips, afraid of what might transpire if she did.

Then she felt a hand on her jaw. It was a gentle touch, Paige’s thumb caressing the side of Azzi’s lips as her eyes danced around them.

“Your dimples kill me, Az,” Bueckers whispered yearningly.

“Paige…” Azzi breathed, their faces inching closer.

The door swung open before the pair could react, Nurse Williams’ eyes widened as she halted in her steps realising what was unfolding before her eyes. The pair scrambled away from each other, almost like a teen couple being caught by a parent.

“Oh, I see. Is this why you didn’t wanna go back to the gym?” the shorter woman rested on one leg in disbelief, hands full of their lunch bags.

“Uh, thanks for bringing our lunch! She’s all good, so…imma head out,” Paige was awkward in her movements, taking her lunch bag from Nurse Williams before exiting the clinic.

The two remaining ladies just stared at the door for several seconds before they turned their heads to each other.

“Azzi. Explain yourself,” the older woman was stern.

“Kayla, not now…” Azzi groaned, leaning back on the bed, her arms propping her up.

Williams took a seat next to her, the corner of her lips tugging upwards. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you guys…?”

“It’s nothing, dude. Now, hand me my lunch bag,” Fudd reached over to Kayla, but her colleague retracted her arm away.

“Girl, that did not look like nothing. Y��all were making out in my office!” Kayla grinned widely, she was more so happy than disappointed.

Azzi’s eyes widened. “We were not! You came in before anything could happen, anyways”.

“Oh, so what you’re saying is I cockblocked y’all- OW!” The older girl winced, rubbing her arm where Azzi smacked it.

“Can you not? I’ve already had enough of KK and Caroline teasing me about it, I don’t need a third person,” Azzi successfully snatched her lunch bag from Kayla.

“GASP, so KK and Car knows, but not me? I thought we were friends,” Kayla frowned in exaggeration.

“Okay, fine, but you’re not missing out on anything,” Azzi sighed, defeated. “I bumped into her on her first day. You can say she was very… charming. Maybe we flirted a little bit. And now I might have a tiny crush on her- ew, I sound just like our kids”.

Kayla squealed. “No, no, this is great, Azzi! I mean, she’s totally your type-“

“I should never voice out my business to anyone ever again”

“Oh, shush. So, what, are y’all just…flirting with each other?”

“I guess you can say it’s a mutual understanding”

“Well, have y’all talked outside of school, at least?”

“It’s only been two weeks, but no…” Azzi trailed.

“Mm, too slowburn in my books. You do know it’s only gonna get busier in the coming weeks, right? I don’t think giving each other horny stares across the hall is gonna get you guys anywhere”

Azzi scoffed as she raised her arms up before dropping them, a gesture of being fed up by the sexual remarks she’s had so far about her and Paige.

“We don’t need to get anywhere, I’m fine where we are”

“Lying through your teeth right in front of me? That’s a new low even for you. Listen, Azzi, I’m your wingwoman. I’m gonna get you guys right”

“Mm,” Azzi, ever-the-more frustrated, just stared at her friend to continue.

“We’re going to Bar Lobo. This Friday night. You, me, KK, Nika, and Aaliyah - the five-star recruits of Moore. Get Car too ‘cause she’s one of us, obviously. Then, you’re gonna invite Paige as well. Be natural, be flirty about it. Then, um… we’ll figure it out as we go along,” Kayla waved her hands dismissively.

Azzi stared at her friend disappointedly. “You make care plans better than this”.

“Ouch,” was all Kayla could say.

However, Fudd wasn’t totally against the idea. She knew between teaching her middle school art classes and writing up a new lesson plan for the high schoolers, it would be difficult to see Paige more frequently. And if there’s one thing Azzi will to admit, it’s that she is very curious to see Paige in normal attire.

—

It was a Wednesday afternoon after school and Azzi found herself at the entrance of the gym again, her fingers fiddling on the strap of her bag as she quietly entered. Within her peripherals, she saw the familiar blonde buried in her clipboard, her back towards the curly brunette.

“I thought I might find you here,” Fudd voiced softly, the blonde turning around with a surprised look.

“Well, fitting for a PE teacher, don’t you think?” Bueckers played along, the side of her lips tugging upwards. “You’ve been surprising me lately”.

“How’d tryouts go?” Azzi deflected as she stared at the clipboard, scribbles of names filling the entire canvas of the paper.

“Really good, actually,” Paige exhaled, “The kids were very…passionate. They’re gonna have fun on Sports Day, I’m gonna make sure of it”.

“I’m sure they already do,” Fudd couldn’t help but melt at her determination, the potential she sees in the kids reflecting her own.

“How’s your nose?” Paige ask while pointing at it,

“Not broken, thank God,” Azzi sighed with a smile.

The pair stood in silence waiting on who would start first, Bueckers nibbling on her lips while Azzi continued fiddling on her bag strap.

“Azzi, about earlier-“

“I didn’t get to say thank you, by the way,” Azzi interjected, her heart pumping. One can’t help but think she was self-sabotaging here, almost as if she was holding herself back from something.

Paige gave a simple smile. “Is that the only reason you came all the way down here?” she looked at Fudd with a mix of need and curiosity, who went back to fiddling on her bag strap.

“I- I also wanted to know if you wanted to join myself and a few of the teachers this Friday night? At Bar Lobo. I figured it’d be great to get to know the other teachers outside of school, you know, team building or what not,” the curly brunette rambled on, her heart almost racing.

Bueckers was caught off guard, uncertain with how to react with the sudden information, something she didn’t expect.

“Yeah, I guess that’d be nice, get to know the teachers,” She rationalised. “I do have to give a disclaimer, though. I don’t exactly drink”.

Azzi was light-heartedly shocked, her eyebrows furrowed as she smiled. “Sorry, I just thought you’d be someone who’d love to unwind with a drink on the weekends”.

The blonde chuckled. “I can’t blame you. A lot of people assume I enjoy my liquor, but…”. Her face winced slightly. “I don’t exactly have great memories with it”.

Azzi widened her eyes, a wave of guilt rushed through her as she held her hand. “Paige, I’m so sorry for even suggesting this, I-“

“No, no, you’re good. I don’t drink, but I can still enjoy the company. I’m easy, don’t worry,” The blonde rubbed her hand on Azzi’s arm.

There was something about the domesticity within their movements that reintroduced the tension in the air around them.

Paige smirked before continuing. “Besides, I wouldn’t wanna miss the opportunity of seeing your reaction when I wear my going out clothes”.

Azzi’s scoffed. “Okay, you’re making me sound like a creep”. Paige chuckled.

“You know I’m only messing with you, Az,” Paige stepped closer staring intensely at the shorter girl.

Azzi’s head twitched, her eyes tracing the face in front of her. “I’ve never heard you call me by my nickname before, but you make it sound so…natural.”

“Hmm, I guess everything’s natural when it comes to you,” Paige hummed.

Before they could inch their face any closer, the screeching sounds of rusted wheels echoed throughout the gym.

“Don’t you ladies know you need to clear out after school?” The janitor had yelled by the entrance.

The pair stumbled backwards in an attempt to detach themselves from their proximity, their movements ever the more awkward.

“I’ll see you later”

“Catch you in a bit”

They said their farewells simultaneously as Azzi walked out in a hurry while Paige went to gather her bags.

—

“Azzi! Car! Right here!" Arnold yelled from across the room, her hands waving erratically to catch the pair’s attention. The girls sat on the round table, carved around with leather seats, their usual Watermelon Splash jug in the centre surrounded by small trays of food.

It was alive and loud at Bar Lobo, a bar club with a DJ mixer, the place famously known for their cocktail jugs and music. It was a spot the group of friends at Moore frequent every Friday night to wind down and catch up. Tonight was just like any other night, the blaring sound of 2000s to 2020s R&B remixes enveloping the venue, the centre stage lightly filled with drunk employees celebrating after their 9-5’s, and the tables fully occupied with large jugs of alcohol with adults ready to start their weekend.

Azzi and Caroline approached the table, the girls greeting them ‘Ooo’s’ and ‘Damn’s’. The curly brunette blushed.

Fudd wore jean shorts with a few rips in the bottom, paired with a tightly fitted pink cropped tank top. Her outfit hugged her curves in all the right places, her exposed muscles making it known that she works outs five times a week. Her hairstyle, corn rows across her crown halfway tied in pink, leading out to her natural type 3 curls.

“Damn, Az, who are you stealing tonight?" Nika exclaimed while staring Fudd up and down.

“I may have an idea or two,’ Kayla sang teasingly. The rest of the group snickered, except for Edwards.

“Wait, y’all know something I don’t?" Aaliyah furrowed her brows at the ladies as Azzi sighed in defeat, taking a seat next to her at one end of the curved booth.

Caroline smiled. “You’ll see".

Nika rolled her eyes playfully at Aaliyah who sat across her. "Lili, are you slow?”

"Excuse me?” Edwards gasped before throwing a fry at her.

“Speaking of, where's our PE teacher? I can’t believe she’s this late!” KK exasperated, taking a sip from her glass.

“It's only been ten minutes, relax,” Kayla defended before her eyes turned to look at the new movement by the entrance. "Well, speaking of the devil”.

And just then everyone's attention turned to where Kayla stared.

Azzi’s gulped, her muscles tensed.

There stood Paige, her height dominating over everyone around her. Her hair was in a half-up, half-down with two strands falling on either side of her face. She wore all black; a short black unbuttoned blouse with a black crop top underneath, her pants were baggy and low enough to expose the grey hem of her boxer shorts.

Damn, Azzi thought.

“Paige! Over here!” KK’s boisterous voice yelled again, her arms waving.

Paige smiled sheepishly before making her way past the crowds and waiters, Azzi’s heart couldn't race any faster, unsure if she was excited or dreading for her to come closer.

As soon as she was fully in everyone's sight, the same chorus of ‘Ooo’s’ and ‘Damn’s’ rang anong them as they all looked at her abs.

Azzi was shocked. Her six-pack was very pronounced, the lights of the venue casting a perfect shadow on them. Maybe Fudd really didn't expect Paige to have that much muscle in her, given she does look more lean underneath her PE uniform.

“Are y’all just gonna stare at my abs or will any of you scoot over?" Paige laughed as no one in the table realised they hadn't exactly moved one bit.

Kayla was the first to laugh in response before asking Nika to shuffle closer, making a space right across Azzi.

Before Paige took her seat, she gave a quick glance at Azzi, eyeing her up and down before biting her cheeks. She couldn’t help but notice Azzi’s eyes were now wandering elsewhere, avoiding eye contact at all cost, her jaws slightly clenched.

“Alright, Paige, I gotta give it to you. You're probably the best dressed here, I think everyone can agree,” KK confessed, the group nodding their heads while Azzi sucked on her cheeks.

"Oh, I dunno about that,” Paige smiled before grabbing a fry, her eyes shifting to Azzi. “Do you think so, Azzi?

The curly brunette was caught off guard, whipping her head to finally face her. Bueckers grinned as she was finally able to catch her attention, nonchalantly munching on a fry as she stared Azzi down.

“Uh, yeah, definitely. You look good, Paige,” Fudd said almost stoically, giving her a quick glance turning to her drink to sip on. The blonde kept grinning as she chewed in triumph.

The other girls in the booth just gave each other a side eye. Aaliyah’s mouth opened while slowly nodding at Caroline beside her, her brain finally clicking.

“Here,” KK interjected. “It’s Bar Lobo’s signature Shirley Temple. Azzi told us you don’t drink- Actually, no, it was more like she demanded, ‘Paige doesn’t drink so you better not push her like you always do to me, blah blah blah’. So, we ordered this for you instead,” KK mocked before sliding the pinkish-red drink towards Paige.

“Did she now? Well, that’s really sweet of you, Azzi,” Bueckers leaned forward with folded arms resting on the table, persistent in trying to elicit a response from her.

The curly brunette gave a quick death stare at Arnold. “Gotta look out for your friends, right?” she said with gritted teeth as looked back at Paige, who was nodding in amusement.

In any other setting, Azzi would’ve toyed with Paige’s flirtatious antics, trying to outcompete her. But the fact that they were being witnessed by her friends was holding her back.

“Alright, alright, alright, y’all! A shot to Ms. Bueckers for being Moore’s newest number one recruit of 2028! Thank you for your service thus far!” Kayla commemorated as she raised her shot glass, everyone roaring as their glasses clinked.

The night went on as the girls downed their drinks, the alcohol slowly spreading through their systems as the girls grew giddy. Azzi was lucky in that front, her tolerance being the highest among them, even if she had chugged half the jug. It wasn’t so much a gift, but more so something that developed during her last breakup.

As she watched her friends introduce their outside lives to Paige a little, Azzi couldn’t help but grow soft knowing the blonde was integrating well into a part of her life. Then, at some point amidst the tangled conversations, Caroline wanted to have a go at getting to know her roommate’s crush a bit more, asking a string of ambiguous questions like a parent interrogating their daughter’s new partner, trying to sus her out.

“So, Paige, do you cook? Cooking’s important, don’t you think? Important for self-development, creative nutrition, or for, like, when you wanna surprise your partner after a long day of work…” Caroline rambled on, the alcohol hitting her harder as the weaker tolerator of the group. Azzi nudged her best friend’s thigh trying to wake her sense up.

Paige could only chuckle. “Ah, yeah, I can cook a bit. I had to learn since living on my own”.

“Hmm, good, yep. Sooo…do you have a partner?” Ducharme asked as she was losing inhibition. Azzi hissed at her like a warning.The curly brunette couldn’t help but feel nervous, her leg starting to shake in anxiousness over the answer of the question.

“No, not currently,” Paige replied as she sipped on her Shirley Temple.

“Do you want to have a partner?”

It was unlike Paige to freeze in this instance. The front she’s been putting up always seemed like she would have a witty answer ready on-hand, but she remained silent for several seconds this time, her brain searching for a response.

As Azzi stared in anticipation, a familiar song came on causing the other girls to sing aloud.

“OH, LET’S MAKE IT TO THE MORNIN’, GIRL”

The five ladies giggled at their own sudden uniformity before getting up from their seats.

“Guys, c’mon, we gotta get out there!” Nika encouraged as she tried to push Paige out her seat.

Conveniently, her and Azzi were at both ends of the booth, having no choice but to make way for their friends. So as soon as they both got up, the girls scrambled their way out and onto the stage where many people were now gathered – it had reached the peak of the evening.

The pair were now left standing across from each other shaking their heads while laughing, almost shocked by their friends’ sudden outburst.

And before Azzi knew it, Paige had reached out her hand.

“C’mon”

The shorter girl pursed her lips before taking her hand and being led all the way to the main floor. Paige was walking backwards, not wanting to pry her sight away from the woman in front of her, while all Azzi could do was blush at the attention.

As soon as they got inside the crowd, Paige spun Azzi around, making her laugh. Then she timely snaked her hands on the curly brunette’s waist before she could face her, and pulled her closer. Azzi’s breath hitched as she now stared at the blue eyes in front of her.

“Don’t scream or shout, I’m workin’ my way down”

Naturally, Azzi’s arms travelled up to Paige’s shoulders before clasping her hands together behind her neck, their eyes never leaving each other as Paige licked her lips. Their bodies swayed to the rhythm of the song, touching on each other intimately as their eyes filled with a certain lust. Paige leaned over to Azzi’s ear.

“You look good, by the way”

“Hmm, I guess you don’t look too bad yourself,” Azzi teased, trying not to give Paige all the satisfaction just yet.

"Oh, so now you can look me in the eyes? What happened back there?" the blonde inched her fave closer, trying to challenge her.

"Shut up," Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, tilting her head aa stared at Paige through her lashes.

The blonde just gave a hooded smile.

The music was intoxicating, erotic. In the height of the tension, Azzi had spun herself around this time, her back was now against Paige’s chest. Fudd was fueled by the liquor as she seductively slid her hands down Paige’s own and guided them forward, the blonde’s palms grazing over Azzi’s lower pelvis. It elicited a breathy moan from both women as their bodies touched closer.

“The shit I did last night, I’m not proud of“

Slow grinding on each other, the blonde’s breath padded onto Azzi’s neck, sending electrical waves down her spine. They were feeling up on each other’s bodies, absolutely relishing in it. Their movements overwhelmed Paige, but in a good way, like she was getting drunk on the feeling. The scent of her vanilla perfume mixed with Paige’s jasmine musk hypnotising each other. And at that moment, she lowered her head next to Azzi’s ear.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” Paige muttered.

Azzi smiled in a daze, her head tilting to almost face the taller girl. “Mmm, I have my guesses”.

“I don’t wanna fight with ya, tryna end my night with ya”

Fudd continued to grind her ass a bit harder onto Paige’s front as the bass of the music pounded, gripping Paige’s hands tighter causing the older girl to sink her face deeper into the crook of Azzi’s neck. The blonde was desperate, her breathing erratic as her lips closed in on her skin.

Letting the feeling take over, Paige started kissing on Azzi’s neck.

”Mmm,” The younger girl moaned, imperceptible from the deafening sounds around them.

The wetness of it was addictive everytime Paige’s tongue brushed her skin, slowly making out with it. The blonde took pleasure in the effect she had on the curly brunette. Soon after, Azzi lifted her hand to gently grab Paige’s head, pushing it a fraction closer into her neck. Her actions were needy as she got turned on. Then the blonde started sucking and biting lightly, almost wanting to give her hickies but was unsure if Azzi wanted them.

The younger girl furrowed her brows. She was entranced with the feeling, but she wanted more. But ‘more’ was not meant for where they stood dancing.

Azzi turned her head towards the blonde’s face.

“Paige, let’s go somewhere,” Azzi whispered enough for her to hear.

Then Azzi grabbed Paige’s hand and led the way this time. The taller girl looked like she was knocked senseless, her lips red and moist as she mindlessly followed the woman in front of her. As they pushed through the crowd, they finally reached a secluded hallway leading up to the toilets at the end.

Azzi tugged her hand forward, she swung the door open so quickly, revealing an empty toilet. How convenient, Azzi thought.

She marched them over to the last stall, tucking themselves in the corner as far away as possible. Once they entered, Paige locked the door behind them.

And just then, their movements slowed down. The muffled bass of the music playing in the background as they stared intensely at each other.

It was only the two of them now.

Paige moved past Azzi without saying a word before she took a seat on the lidded toilet seat, her eyes never leaving the brunette’s even once. Then, with her long arms, she reached to grab Azzi’s waist again, pulling her onto her lap.

“Sit here,” Her voice low, almost husky.

Azzi let out a breath before straddling herself onto Paige’s lap. The sound of their breaths along with the feeling of her long fingers gripping her waist to steady her drove Azzi insane.

Paige was taking it all in as her thumbs rubbed on Azzi’s abs; the way the curly brunette’s muscular arms wrapped around her neck, while her moist thighs brushed against the blonde’s own waist.

“You feel so good, Az,” Paige looked up, her voice needy while her hands rubbed on the younger girl’s waist.

Azzi whispered as she leaned closer. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

And just then, Paige crashed her lips onto Azzi’s, letting out their most breathy moans through their noses. The mouths moved with hunger, passion. The feeling of Fudd’s plump lips on her own was everything she ever imagined. Not like it was something Paige frequently thought about, but something her mind desired everytime Azzi gave her a dimpled smile during school.

As they wrapped around each other tightly, their hands were groping almost chaotically as if they couldn’t get enough of the other’s skin.

“Mmm,” Azzi let out. The kiss was getting more sloppy, the wetness addictive as they introduced their tongues. High on the feeling, Azzi instinctively started to grind her hips in a circle over Paige’s core, moaning in her ear as she did so.

“Oh, fuck,” was all the blonde could breathe out in between their tantalising make out session.

The blonde’s hands instinctively trailed down to grab Azzi’s ass, securing her as she pulled her closer. Their quaint moans grew more and more erratic and apparent. Just as their bodies were reaching the heat of the climax, Azzi’s phone vibrated, a loud iPhone ringtone blasting loudly, causing the pair to jolt.

The sound continued to ring, slowly bringing them back to reality.

“Shit, sorry,” Azzi muttered as she detached their lips, realising it was her phone. Paige, in her disheveled state, looked at the woman in front of her in a trance. Not exactly mad at the break off as she was still high from her lips, her thumbs caressing her ass.

“Hello?”

“Azzi, where are you?” It was Kayla, her voice loud trying to speak over the music behind her. “Car and Nika aren’t feeling too well. We might need to call it a night, it’s already past 2am, anyways. Is that okay?”

The curly brunette’s eye widened as she looked at her phone to check the time. 2:20am.

“Oh, shit. Yeah, um, can you call for an Uber?”

“Of course. Have you seen Paige?” in her sober mind, Williams would’ve expected the two to have scurried away together somewhere, but she was too exhausted from carrying Caroline on her shoulder to think.

Azzi gave Paige a quick glance. “I’ll go get her. Be there soon, babe”.

The shorter girl got off of Paige’s lap. She bit her lip trying to stifle a smile as she looked at the state she left Paige in, her hair messy while her lips were swollen red and shiny from Azzi’s pink lip gloss.

“What happened?” was all the blond could croak, her expression growing concerned.

Azzi sighed. “Let’s just say Nika and Car got white girl wasted.”

Paige chuckled before getting up, slightly towering over Azzi even though they were of similar height. They stared into each other’s eyes in curiosity.

Then Azzi raised her hand near Paige’s mouth, her thumb wiping off some of the gloss surrounding her lips. The pair giggled. It was cute, their movements as domestic as it could get.

Paige grinned. “Looks good on me, no? You should wear it more often”

Azzi scoffed in disbelief at the comment, pushing Bueckers backwards before she opened the stall’s door and made her way out.

The blonde was cheesing, her head nodding lightly as she prided herself on the remark.

“Stop smiling and get your ass outta there!” was all Paige could hear before Azzi fully left the toilet. Paige let out her deepest sigh, absolutely drunk on Azzi’s touch, before following suit.

[sparklingblu]

Parádeisos

Miyeon X Male Reader

(Wrote this one based on the tale of Calypso in the Odyssey, bear with my obsession of mythologies)

People call Helen of Troy the face that launched a thousand ships.

That's because they have never seen Miyeon.

Not like you have any idea what Helen looks like. But if a hundred thousand people go to war for her, she must have been a pretty big deal. You would do the same thing for Miyeon. But there isn't anyone who will steal her to start a war or rather, no one can't. That's her problem.

As you stared at her amidst the lush grass under the shade of the trees, you couldn't help but admire how she looked so ethereal, almost inhuman. The way her hair fluttered in the breeze, the delicate fabric of her dress hugging her frame, her eyes that reflected the color of the summer sky. All seemed perfectly orchestrated to capture your attention like a snare and pulled you in deeper like a vortex.

She plucked a flower with her slender fingers and a faint smile crept across her face. You were glad because she rarely smiled, always foreboding with a mysterious expression with her brows furrowed. You wanted to help her except that when you tried to talk to her, she became silent. A few words here, a few words there. Never enough to make a conversation. At this point, you are certain she hated you.

As if to prove your point, she met your gaze with a scowl and tured her attention back towards another organism that wouldn't bother her unlike you. You sighed, shifting your body to turn towards the wide blue sea that seemed to stretch endlessly. The occasional waves rising and falling, sweeping away the white sand of the beach, glittering in the sunlight like diamonds. The crest of the hill surrounding the slopy geography of the island on either sides slithered down smoothly to encircle the beach at either sides.

It's an absolutely panoramic view and you could stare at it for hours. But that's what you had been doing for god knows how long. "Time flows differently here" Miyeon had said. For the love of god, you could have been stranded on this island for a millennia. Everyone in the outside world you know gone forever.

Considering, they even remember you exist. You have never been much of a social type. You were sitting in a corner at prom, sipping on coke when others danced around with their dates. That doesn't mean you are a nerd either. Sure, you studied and your grades weren't bad but not enough to be considered a geek.

You grew up, graduated with a major in Classics and through highs and lows became a professor at a relatively young age. Things were starting to look good when you got a call from a University in another city, telling you you have been chosen. You got on a plane a week later, headed to a new start. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Except that everything did. The first thing you remember is the way the plane suddenly jerked. Then came the sound of the air hostess on the intercom and the flashing emergency lights. You held on to your oxygen mask and prayed to whatever god is out there as the jet spiralled to a free fall. Your internal organs felt like they were on fire.

The sound of the aircraft colliding to a surface of water is the last thing on your mind before you passed out.

Dead would have been a luxury compared to the agonizing pain that accompanied your wake. The first thing on your mind, of course, I'm alive. Then you opened your eyes and started doubting.

The warm glow of the fire in the hearth and the crackling firewood sent a wave of relief over your psyche. You were lying in a bed so fluffy it could have been a cloud. Pulling down the sheets, you sat up.

The faint smell of a stew brewing greets your nostrils, churning your stomach. How long have you been out without food or water? You were clueless.

The rest of the room is circular, the walls solid rock. Countless little crystals the size of your fist glowing like fireflies were embedded in the ceiling, casting an eerie gloom over the cave, making the shadows dance. You have watched in a tv show that Heaven is where you stay in your happiest moments forever. This was not so far from it.

You have always imagined living in a little house by the ocean, free from the hustle of the outside world. Just reading a good book and basking under the sun everyday. Is that it? Have you achieved that?

Out of the corner of your eyes, a shadow slithered across the wall, making you jerk your head to the other side.

And god, you finally believed you are in Heaven. Because there was an angel.

Near the foot of your bed stood a girl. Her doe eyes slowly studying you like an interesting specimen. She blinked and her eyelids flattered gracefully. The smell of the stew got stronger and you realized she is holding a tray with a bowl in it, which, no doubt, contained the stew. She held it far enough not to stain her white column dress, which accentuated her curves in the most elegant way possible. Her long blonde hair was swept to one side of her shoulder, up to her collar bones. Her rosy lips unfolded.

"You are awake"

Just three words but melodic enough to pull you back into reality.

"Yeah...where am I?" You uttered, hoping the answer is Heaven.

"Ogygia" she mused.

"Ogygia? Like the one where Odysseus..?"

"Yes" she nodded.

"But it's not real" You protested.

"It is" she retorted with an expression like she was offended. "You are at the heart of it"

"So...that means you are...?"

"Enough questions" she snapped, placing a bow on a low stool that had somehow magically appeared.

"Have some. It will heal you" she said, though her tone didn't sound so enthusiastic. "I will check on you later" And just like that she walked out from an opening at the corner.

You might as well have been dreaming. You are in Ogygia? That's impossible. It doesn't really exist. Or does it?

The story from the Odyssey, an extremely long poem by Homer that you learned back in university rushed back to you. So basically, there's a hero name Odysseus and he went on quests and all. Then at some point, he got stranded on an island called Ogygia where he met a nymph named Calypso, who was punished by the gods for a reason(it will be too long to explain so let's just skip it) and damned to stay there forever. Immortal but unable to leave.

Calypso kept Odysseus on the island for seven years, trying to win his heart but he was either faithful to his wife or just in general hate nymphs. He rejected her everytime until he was finally able to leave the island.

A tragic tale. But that's all to it. It's a tale. If this island is Ogygia, does it mean the girl is Calypso? She doesn't look much like a nymph but god, she is beautiful. Maybe Odysseus was stupid enough to turn down such a beauty.

But that's a matter to deal with later. Currently, your stomach was growling like a wild beast and the smell of the stew is the only thing on your mind. You picked up the bowl and took a spoonful. A warm feeling spread through your core, easing the pain earlier. It tasted a bit like chicken but you couldn't be sure. You dug in, until the bowl left no evidence of the stew and your hunger was qenched.

Calypso or whoever the girl is didn't seem too happy with your arrival but you felt thankful. She took you in afterall, though you were not sure how you ended up here in the first place. You doubt you were worthy like Odysseus to be saved by the gods.

The stew seemed to be working its magic because you started to feel drowsy. Your eyelids felt weighted down by hundred pounds of iron. You set the bowl back on the stool and submerged yourself back in the warm embrace of the sheets.

-

You didn't know how long you slept but when you open your eyes again, the fire in the hearth had been put out and the crystals in the ceiling have sheathed their glow. A ray of sunlight poured through a hatch in the ceiling.

All your fatigue had been replaced by a new kind of energy. You felt like you could outrun a stallion. (Well, not literally) You got up and stretched. To your surprise, you were wearing the same clothes before your plane crashed. They looked no different from before, cleaner even.

Maybe the girl have washed them? A tinge of excitement ran through your spine. But it quickly disappeared when you remembered she didn't even seem to want to be near you, much less took off your clothes.

You walked through the opening through which the girl had went out before you fell asleep. It opened up into another part of the cave. This one much wider.

A small bed almost identical to the one you slept in lied on one side and a loom on the other. On its side laid stacks of fabrics of different textures and colors. So she's a weaver, you thought.

There was an opening at the end of the cave, giving way to an endless plane of green. You emerged, and the view left you breathless.

As far as your eyes could see, the ocean stretched all around the island. The cave was on a hill, which descended to another hill then to a beach of sparkling white sand.

The most intriguing of all, however, was the garden which stood atop a nearby hill. Filled with vegtation, orchards and endless variety of flowers you had never seen before, it looked like something straight out a fairytale.

You walked down the hill, breathing in the fresh breeze blowing from the sea. You were thinking things couldn't get any better when your eyes caught sight of a slice of heaven.

The girl was on the beach, laying on a blanket, her eyes closed. The two piece swimsuit woven of velvet hugged her body perfectly, outlining every trace of her curves. Her bosoms rised and fell with each breath she took, her flawless skin glowing luminously in the sunlight.

Did she weave that swimsuit herself? You would never know. But you are enjoying the view too much to care. Each breath of hers seemed to fuel your impulse just to walk to her, rip off that swimsuit and-

"Men are all the same"

The words snapped you out of your fantasies. She sat up and turned her head slowly to you, her brows creased.

"Stop staring" she snapped.

"Ehh....I wasn't..."

"Save it" she cut you off. "You slept like a baby"

Was that a compliment? You doubted it.

"Yeah..thanks for you know...saving me"

"I didn't have a choice" her expression turned gloomy. "Sometimes, I don't understand the gods"

"Eh...yes..." you muttered, suddenly remembering the question that has been on your mind. "So you are Calypso..?" you finally dropped it.

She scowled. "God...they still called me that" she picked up a seashell from the sand and twisted it in her fingers. "I grew tired of that name long ago"

"What should I call you then?"

"Miyeon" she answered, throwing the seashell away into the waves. "And you?"

"Gabriel" you answered. "Well, my friends call me Gabie though"

"Gabriel it is then" Miyeon said. A drop of sweat rolled down her temple and god you just wanted to-

"How do you know about me?" Miyeon asked again, crossing her legs smooth as silk.

"Someone named Homer wrote this really long poem and you are featured, you are pretty popular"

"Popular?" she scoffed. "Not for good reasons, I'm sure"

"You did keep Odysseus all to yourself for like seven years so-"

"Oh, shut up" her expression darkened on the mention of her old flame and you knew you had hit a sore spot. "That was like....three thousand years ago, I'm amazed people still talk about it"

"Well, actually I studied all about it"

Her eyebrows raised, like your words made no sense.

"You are a fool" she said. "And a pervert"

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I know you have been staring at me, just because my eyes are closed doesn't mean I can't sense you"

"Can you blame me?" you asked, and now you did sound like a pervert.

She let out a chuckle. "You do have your way with words, Gabriel. However, I won't yield" She stood up, brushing off the sand from her thighs. "I guess you are stuck here with me, feel free to explore this dump. If you are hungry, there's something I made" She pointed to a wooden table in the garden. As she bent over to pick up her blanket, you were blessed with the sight of her toned ass.

"So, I can't leave....?" you asked.

"Well, you might...but it's never sure" she replied. "Enjoy doing nothing everyday"

As she walked back up the hill, your mind was left in a state of disbelief and awe.

-

So, your days on the island of Ogygia begun. And just like Miyeon said, you did almost nothing. Well, it's hard to do anything else except nothing when you were stranded on an island with no electricity or internet. If you were Miyeon, you would have died of boredom long ago even if you were immortal.

Your daily routine consisted primarily of naps and more naps. Whenever you went to your room in the cave to sleep, you never saw Miyeon in her bed. Even when it's nighttime. When you woke up in the morning, she's already in the garden or sometimes at the loom, weaving different dresses of every color. You had to admit her handiwork was impressive but you wondered what's the point of making such dresses if there's no one to show it off to. Well, there's you but it's highly unlikely.

You didn't need to worry about food. They were always on the table in the garden when you needed them. Or you could pluck a fruit from the orchard. Miyeon didn't mind.

You had gone around the island in circles. Mostly, it's hills, trees and grasses. There's a small forest at the east end but you didn't explore it just in case something dangerous lurk there. You have never been much of a fan of dark, secluded places anyway.

That left you with only one option. The beach. You would either sunbathe or just walk around idly, picking up seashells sometimes (which you threw away back into the sand later). The ocean is not bad either. The water is always the right temperature, not too hot or cold. But even swimming, one of your hobbies, become another another gruesome task to get the day by when you did it every single day.

The only silver lining is the ocassional views you get of Miyeon. When she was either sunbathing or swimming, you would sit in a shade and watched her like a film. Maybe she didn't know or she just didn't care because she never gave you a single glance.

Once, the wind blew strong, lifting her skirt up just enough for you to see her cheeks and you praised the gods.

But that's it. You just get to watch. Until now, you had never realized how internet porn is one of the greatest inventions made by humans. Jerking off to your thoughts all the time isn't really doing the job.Thankfully, you have an active imagination. Sometimes, you imagined Miyeon, riding you, sucking you off.

That lead you to wonder, does Miyeon have those urges too? Probably, seeing how she was head over heels for that Odysseus dude. So maybe, she did find a way to relieve them.

You didn't know if someone who have been imprisoned since the dawn of time knew how to masturbuate. Maybe you could teach her. If she didn't turn you into guinea pig first.

You try ticking a mark on a tree nearby with a gardening knife for each day that pass but it got hard when you sometimes fell asleep on the sand under the morning sun and woke up to be greeted by the same warm rays, feeling like you had been out for at least a week.

All this time, Miyeon and you barely interacted. You tried to start conversations, asking her if she needs help in the garden or trying to get her to teach you weaving. But of course, she simply shaked her head, not bothering to waste a word on you.

Apart from being in the middle of nowhere, you thought being ignored by the only person accompanying you is bad enough. Until the events of one night changed it all.

- × - × - ×-

The wind whistled in your ears. The pressure of the air so strong you felt like you are gonna be crashed flat. Darkness ruled every corner of your vision. You were falling, deeper and deeper into the eternal abyss. The growls of beasts echoed from the depths.

You thought you would never stop falling, until something sharp speared your chest.

You woke up with a start. You were sweating like crazy despite the breeze blowing through the hatch in the ceiling. The first dream you had had since you were here. Or rather, the first nightmare.

Feeling thirsty, you looked around for water but had no luck. Usually, Miyeon left a jug on the bedisde table but there wasn't one that night. So you got out of the bed, wiping away the sweat on your forehead.

You found your way out of the room from the glow casted by the crystals. As usual, Miyeon wasn't in bed. You looked around. No water here either. As if to mock you, an unfinished shawl in the loom depicted the shapes of blue waves.

You walked out of the cave, maybe there was some on the garden table. The night was quiet other than the chirps of cicadas. The full moon shone brilliantly on the canvas of the night sky.

Was the moon always full here? You couldn't remember. The distant sound of waves crashing and falling pierced the night.

You headed towards the garden, which beauty never ceased to amaze you. Certain types of flowers bloomed and glowed silver and gold along the path that lead straight across the place. Trees that don't exist in the outer world cast shadows across the shorter plants. It would always be a mystery how Miyeon managed to took care of all of them without fail. You were near the vineyard when you heard a faint sound from the center of the garden.

Beneath the willow tree in the heart of the garden sat a humanoid figure. Your heart skipped a beat. The fear that the nightmare earlier gave birth to still clouded your mind. You never believed such absurdities like ghosts exist but if Ogygia is real, what else could be?

Taking careful steps, you slowly approached to the source of the sound. The moonlight casted a faint glow and the scene in front of you unfolded clearly.

The person beneath the willow tree was no other than Miyeon. But a different version you have never seen before. She sat there, laying against the trunk of the old tree. Her whole body bare. Her legs spread out so obscenely yet so ethereal. The depths of her pink cavern being sown by her middle and ring fingers. She lets out a moan as equally melodic as a sonata with each thrust of fingers into her pussy. Her tits rock hard and heaving with each breath. Those doe eyes of hers that were filled with elegance were now rolled back with pure lust. Her fingers that brought life to her loom now became nothing but a mere tool for her pleasure.

As if under a spell, your gaze was rooted to the scene before you, your heart racing faster with each passing second. If someone came and make you and offer to trade immortality for this moment, you would have rejected it.

Miyeon's body started to shake violently, her toes curling and uncurling. The dripping juice from her pussy start forming a puddle on the grass. Finally, her body jerked, spraying her sweet nectar all over the green plane. She panted softly, sweat trickling down her temple, her blonde hair a messy nest.

That was when you knew you were fucked. Even if you tried to turn now, you would be in her range of sight. If you tried to hide, she could sense you. So you just stood there like a statue, not daring to breath.

Miyeon's eyes slowly opened then focused on you. An expression of pure awe formed on her face which quickly turned into one of disgust and fury.

"You!" she yelled, her voice still hoarse from the moaning earlier. "How long have you been here?"

"Don't get me wrong! I was just trying to-"

"You fucking pervert" she yelled, trying to cover up her assets with her hands. Her brows furrowed and If looks could kill, you would have been dead a thousand times.

"It was an accident, ok? I'm not trying to peek on you. I was justrying to get some water"

"That's your excuse!?" she shriek, her tone no longer mellow. "I should have left you to die on the beach if I have known you are a creep"

"Look, Miyeon. I swear I wasn't trying to-"

"Oh, then what's that?" she pointed below your waist.

You looked down and notice the bulge. Your cock so hard it feels like it's gonna pierce your trousers. You shouldn't have but you blushed.

"Look, I can explain"

"You don't need to explain, get out of here. Leave my island!"

"Wait but how-"

"Leave me alone!" she yelled so loud you thought the ground is going to crack open.

"Fine fine" you replied in a rush and walked out of the garden as swift as you could.

However, the scene you witnessed was embedded in your memory for as long as you live. The way the moonlight showered on her skin, the pure baloney of the hidden side of Miyeon that you never knew exist. The way she reacted was totally opposite from her graceful and tranquil manner. She looked like she was about to kill you and you believed she could.

The silver lining? You knew she did masturbuate now, which meaned she has sexual urges just like anyone. This would have made you hopeful but after what happened, it didn't seem to matter. She hated you now. If you were to wake up as a guinea pig the next day, it wouldn't be a surprise.

With a heavy burden on your mind, you sighed and headed back to the cave.

- × - × - ×-

Your train of thoughts were cut off by a melody that graced your ears. Miyeon was singing. You had heard her sweet voice many times but it never failed to grip your heart. It was just the perfect balance of harmony and rhythm. Most of the times, you don't understand a word she is singing. But you can swear you heard her sang Love Story by Taylor Swift once. You have no clue how she even knew the song.

Miyeon continued her song while she picked flowers of various colors from the garden. A tulip here, a lily there. And another one you don't know the name of. Regardless, her movement were as poised as ever, which brought back the memory of that night.

Since the day of the incident, Miyeon have not uttered a single word to you. She still made you food and occasionally weaved new clothes for you but whenever your gazes met, she would either avert her eyes or scowled.

As the time went on, the silence became unbearable. Sure, she didn't speak to you much before. But it wasn't total silence. Now, you felt like she had ignored your existence which she probably did. It's true that you had been staring but it wasn't intentional (though it was a nice surprise). She was too consumed with rage to hear you out. At least she didn't burn you or turn you into an animal.

You thought of attempting to clear the air between you but you are worried it would push her away even further. You sometimes felt homesick, wanting to return back into the human world. But no one could help you with that, not even Miyeon. According to the myth, the gods had saved Odysseus from this island by sending Hermes, the messenger god, asking Calypso(or Miyeon, whatever) to free him. But Miyeon isn't obsessed with you like she was with Odysseus to even keep you captive. So, there isn't a need to free you. Maybe you can try building a raft and sail away. But staying here seems better instead of dying of hunger and thirst in the middle of the ocean. This island was made by the gods themselves and it can't be escaped in an ordinary way.

You are not so happy with the idea that this island made its inhabitants immortal. What's the join of being immortal if all you do is sleep, eat and swim everyday? You are stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Miyeon's singing had stopped and now her gazes were back on yours. She scowled again but this time her eyes didn't waver. She beckon you with her hand to the cave. A jolt of excitement run through your body. Is she finally forgiving you? Or she's planning to kill you in the cave.

Nevertheless, you sat up and followed her across the hills, her shapely hips swaying with every step. You entered the cave after Miyeon and found her sitting on her bed. The expression in her eyes was unreadablele.

"Look" she spoke the first words in a long time. "Maybe I overreacted"

You wanted to say "Of course, you did" but you forgot about it. "Yeah, I'm sorry too" you apologized, though a part of you didn't want to.

"I was just...you know..." A faint blush appeared on her cheeks. "Trying to...eh..."

"I get it" you said. "That's a very normal thing, humans do it too"

"I know.." she said in a low tone. "But being seemed by someone else, it's embarrassing....and..." she paused and bit her lower lips.

"And?" you asked. You expected another word of resentment but what she said surprise you.

"Hot" she replied and looked down.

You can't believe your ears. She thinks being watched is hot? Her mask of innocence was starting to unravel slowly.

"Hot...?" you mused. "So you like me watching you?"

"In a way, yes" her fingers ran along the bedsheets. "You don't know how it feels to be alone for so long without anyone. Anyone who can satisfy my urges. I try to do it myself but I'm never satisfied. I need something else.....I need...."

'A cock' you thought. All these times, she had never been anything but a cockhungry slut. You shouldn't have been intimidated by her right from the start. Afterall, you are the only one who can give her what she needs.

"I know what you need" you said. "And I have it, don't I?"

Miyeon swallowed and nodded. You had never seen her so vulnerable it give you a sense of superiority. The tables have turned.

"Look, I'm desperate. I'm sorry for the way I acted. But I can't help thinking about your....cock. Since I saw that bulge, I have been in heat" As those filthy words left her mouth, her face turns so red it could have been a tomato. "So, you know, can you...?"

"Eh....I see..." you said with a hint of mockery. "I thought you think I'm a pervert"

"That was long ago!" she quickly retorted. She's that desperate, huh? "And I apologize for it, so if you can just give me...your cock..."

"It's not something that I can just give easily. I have my pride too, you know" That's bullshit. You were just as desperate as her. But you masked it better.

"Please, I will do anything" she begged again.

"Anything?" you started imagining scenarios.

"Yes"

"Like what?"

"I...I can suck you off..." she murmured quietly.

"What was that, Miyeon?"

"I will give you a blowjob" she said, much louder this time.

The corners of your mouth twitched into a wicked smile.

"Hmm, I don't know....is it really worth it?" you pushed her even farther.

"Please, I will make sure you are satisfied. You can cum wherever you want"

The idea of her perfect body covered in cum finally lead you to your decision.

"Alright but I will leave if you are not good"

"I promise!"

"Fine..."

"Please lay on the bed" she said, gesturing towards her bed.

You follow her orders, sinking into the feather bed. Miyeon slowly crawled up your legs until she reached your crotch area. She traced her fingers along your already bulging cock like it's something delicate.

"Finally..." she murmured dreamily as she slowly pulled down your pants and it sprung up to hit her in the nose.

"This smell..." she brushed her nose against the underside of your shaft. Then she pressed it to her cheeks, making her head look so much smaller. "So big..."

Finally, she started planting wet kisses along the side of your cock, sending a jolt to your spine each time. Those rosy lips of hers brushing against your unholiest place. After she pestered your shaft with kisses, she moved to the tip, where she trailed her tongue slowly across the sensitive slit then swirling her tongue.

"God, Miyeon, don't stop..." you tried not to sound desperate but it gets harder with each dance of her tongue.

She slowly started to take your tip into the warm embrace of her mouth, moving her head in a constant pace. Her fingers stroke from the base to her lips, then back again. The way her fingers move is just as masterful as the time she weaved, tracing every pulsing vein.

Her lips opened up to take more of your cock, half of it now being licked and gobbled in her warm cavern. Her pace increased, matching the rhythm of her fingers. The sound of spit squelching echo around the room. Each time your cock disappeared into her mouth, she would hum, sending vibrations across your shaft.

With each twirl and twist of her tongue, her pace increased even more. She had swallowed most of your cock now and her hands were on your thigh, holding on for support.

"Mmmphh" she mewled as your whole manhood disappeared into her mouth and her nose pressed right against your pelvis. She held you in her throat for a moment before she comes up for air, gagging and spilling spit. After a second of rest, she went down again, swallowing you like a vulture. Her blonde hair bobbed with each movement of her head. You realize her mouth does more than just sing. Her tongue is no less masterful as it traced along the underside and dance on your tip.

You fetl like your body is floating. The pleasure of her mouth made you yearn for it more and more. You didn't want this feeling of pure bliss to stop.

Her cheeks hollowed, sucking the life right out of you as her tongue greedily lapped up your precum. You were not a virgin and you had had your fair share of experience but the way her mouth worked is out of this world. (It literally is) She came up for air again, her chin dripping with her spit mixed with your precum.

"Ugh......so... juicy....." she panted s she looked at you with eyes full of ecstasy. And that look reminded you, you need her mouth back on your cock right now.

Without warning, you grabbed her hair and impale her mouth on your cock, stuffing her throat with your length. She struggled at first then calms down, as you hold her there, your fingers tangled in her locks. Her throat pulsed against your own pulsing cock, squeezing your tip.

"You don't stop unless I tell you to, ok?" you demanded.

She nodded furiously, feeling the lack of air as your cock blocks all her pathways of oxygen. You jerked her head up from her hair, look at her ruined face, then pressed it onto your cock again. You repeated the motion rapidly, using her like a fleshlight.

As he throat constricted around your mamba, you started feeling the familiar sensation of the finale approaching to this act. There's so many ways to fill Miyeon up or paint her. Then an idea came to your mind.

You stop thrusting Miyeon's mouth on your cock and let go of her hair. Her head tilted ninety degrees, gagging loudly then coughing.

"Miyeon. lay on the bed sideways but hang your head off the sides" you ordered as you get off the bed and Miyeon complied, shifting her position so that her head now hanged loosely from the side of the bed.

"Good slut" you praised as you take your position in front of her, gripping her throat and shoving your dick all the way in. Your balls slapped her nose and her eyes widened but then relaxed. You started thrusting your cock into her wet vulgar hole, admiring how her thraot bulged from the foreign object entering it.

Miyeon let you use her hole without complaint, lying there still as you get closer to nirvana with each thrust. You pulled your cock out all the way then back in with so much force, Miyeon's body jerked.

"Miyeon. I'm gonna..."

Your flood gates broke open. You shoot load after load of thick cum into Miyeon's throat, which she gulped down eagerly. But it must have been too much, because she started to cough, which is hard to do with a cock in her throat. She could drown in your cum, she asked for it. You kept thrusting until you finally came down from your euphoric high.

You pulled out your cock and the mixture of spit and cum flowed down from her mouth to every part of her angelic face. She murmurs in a ragged voice. "Thanks..."

"You are welcome" you said, admiring the beauitful mess, which is Miyeon. Her chest heaving and her mouth gaped open like a fish. Her face covered in spit.

She started to get up from her position, her hands pressed against the bed for support, but you had other ideas. As she was just getting off the bed, you pushed her head back down into the mattress, her lower body dangling from the side of the bed.

You pushed her head deeper into the mattress muffling her scream. With the other hand, you pulled up her white dress from the hem, exposing her round ass.

"Gosh, you are already so wet"

You saidbas you collected the juice within her folds with your middle finger and shoved it into her asshole, which clenched it down in a vice grip. You pull your finger free from her grasp then shoved it into her ass again.

As you finger her asshole, her pussy dripped even more, flowing steadily down to her bedsheet, staning it with her juice.

"Are you turning on from getting your ass fingered?" you asked. She replied in something that sounded like "Mmmf....umff".

"You must be desperate, huh? How long has it been since these holes are filled?"

You pull out your finger and slaped er ass, making her cheeks jiggle. You groped her ass some more, before you shove two fingers into her wet folds, extracting another inaudible sound from Miyeon.

You started pumping your fingers, gliding them in and out of her cavern. It clenchednon you tight like it's worried your fingers will stop thrusting. But she didn't need to worry because you were not going to leave the wet goodness of her hole anytime soon.

Miyeon let out more muffled moans and her body writhed like she was being tasered. But that's not so far from the truth because your fingers are sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure through her.

With your free hand, you slapped her ass again, the way it wriggle almost hypnotic. The white backdrop of her skin marked with your handprints. You brought your palm down again and again, until her ass becomes nothing but a crimson plane.

"Look how much you are dripping. Do you like being spanked that much? No wonder Odysseus ignored you. You are such a whore"

Miyeon is no longer protesting, not even muffled sounds escaped her mouth anymore. She just lays there, face down ass up and let you toy with her body. The movement of your fingers became swifter, spraying juice each time they collide with Miyeon's depths.

Her pussy squelched happily each time your fingers enter, as if showing its gratitude. And it should. Miyeon had called you a pervert twice. Maybe she's right. But that pervert is the only one who can save her from her eternal damnation of the denial of pleasure. She should be thankful.Her legs started to quiver and you realized she was close. But you wouldn't be too hasty in giving her release.

You stopped, pulling out your fingers. You pulled up Miyeon's head and turned it a 180 degree, looking down at her eyes, far gone.

"Why..why do you..?"

Her protested are quickly cut out by your tongue which entered her mouth, swirling and tasting every inch of her another hole, which you just filled up with your cum a while ago. But you didn't care. Her lips feel velvety, just like all those fabrics she weaves. The tenderness of it got you asking for more. Miyeon returns the action by wrapping her own tongue around yours. It took two to tango after all.

Your other hand reached for her clothed boobs, pushing out from the textile of her dress. Miyeon's bosom is not one you can call big but they are not tiny either. It's just perfect enough for you to grope and pinch her nipples, already rock hard from the stimulation.

You pulled back, a trail of saliva glistening between her lips and yours. She looked at you with those needy eyes of hers, begging you to give her the release she desperately needs.

"Please...I....I need to cum..." she mummuredm She looked so pathetic you almost felt sorry. But after the treatment she had given you all those time, why should you be?

"Look at you, begging to me" you mocked. "Miyeon, you are nothing but a cockhungry whore, admit it"

Her face flared up. Then she tried to hide it and fails.

"I'm not a whore....I just need..."

"If you keep lying to yourself, you will never get the reward you seek from me"

"But I'm not a whore..."

You chuckled. "Aren't you the one who asked me for my cock? Beg me to taste it. Hell, you have been a whore since the beginning of time, falling for every man who ends up here"

Her expression turned confused, like she's debating with herself on your words. Finally, she spoke again.

"I.....I'm not falling for you. I don't even like you"

Oh, now she wanted to play it rough.

"Is that so? Then I guess you don't need me"

You turned to leave, which is all a trap to lure Miyeon to your dungeon of lust. And she fell right into it.

"Wait!" she called. "Don't leave"

You turn your head and raised an eyebrow. She was sitting on the bed now, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

"I....I will say what you want me to, so please don't leave"

"And what will you say?"

"I...I'm a....whore" Her voice reduced to a whisper at the last word. She looked own, her face burning with shame.

"I can't quite hear you from here"

"I'm a...whore" she said again, a bit louder than the last time. But you were not satisfied.

"Still can't hear you"

"I'm a whore!" she shrieked much to your surprise. "I need your cock so please use me"

You had done something that no one had ever achieved. You had ripped Miyeon of whatever remnanta she left of her pride, dginity and grace she had feigned all this time. Now she's no different from a typical whore who will let you use her for money. In Miyeon's case, she didn't need money. She needed your cock.

"That's more like it, no need to be shy" You walked up to her and hold her chin between your thumb and index fingers, admiring the angleic features of her face, from her aquiline nose to her sharp chin. A drop of cum from earlier still hanged on one of her eyebrows.

"Show me that ass" you ordered and she doesn't complain, getting on all fours and raising her ass for your eyes, her dress becoming nothing but an added luxury for you to feast on.

You got behind her and hiked up her dress to her waist, giving you full access to her ass. You dug a finger into her pussy, retractedband licked her juice off it. Maybe it's a nymph thing or you are just overwhelmed with desire but it's the sweetest thing you have ever tasted.

"Please, I need your cock inside me" Miyeon whined again, no longer hiding her desperation.

"Patience, slut" That came out so lame you promise yourself not to say that ever again.

You lined up the tip of your cock to her pussy, which was already convulsing with anticipation. In the beginning, you just pushed in your tip, testing the waters. Her pussy was wet enough you don't need to put any extra effort. You don't know if she is a virgin with the way her walls hugged you and gripped you like they are familiar with the alien object entering it but that's a question for another time. For now, you only have a single task to complete, filling her up.

"More..." Miyeon pleaded. That breathy voice of her with a hint of melancholy is what ignited the flame inside you.

With no further words, you pushed you whole length into her opening and she letbout a guttural moan. The way her walls swallowed your manhood leaves you struggling not to make a sound.

"Fuck, Miyeon, you are so tight..."

"Yes, fuck my tight pussy, I need your cock pounding me"

With each vulgar word that left her mouth, Miyeon push her hips back, trying to fuck herself on your cock. But you were going to be the one in charge. You held her tiny waist, stopping her from going further.

"I'm gonna fuck you, not the opposite, remember?"

"Yes..yes, sorry. I just need it...Hhng!"

Her apology was cut short when you start bucking your hips slowly, getting your cock accustomed to her wet cavern. Each thrust left you feeling breathless, the friction against her slick walls like no other feeling you have experienced. At this moment, you feel like you are the luckiest (and only) person on Ogygia.

Miyeon's moans grew louder with each pump of your cock, occassionally begging you for more. But she didn't need to because you are going to give her your all, satisfying the needs of her pussy that haven't been fucked properly for eternity.

So you picked up the tempo, waves rippling across her ass each time you thrusted into her. If her pussy was wet before, now it's a river, juice flying everywhere with each thrust you gave her. And she tool it like a champ. You think you eere going fast enough but she kept begging for more, to ruin her, to pound her into oblivion.

And who are you not to comply when you were held captive in the most heavenly place of the most beautiful woman(or nymph, whatever) you have ever seen. You channeledbevery single ounce of energy into pounding Miyeon's pussy and the effort started heating your body up, your hair slick with sweat.

Miyeon's not so different. Her dress is sticking to her skin with her own bodily fluid while she closed her eyes, drinking up the ecstasy only your cock could give her.

You wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her back against your chest, tracing your tongue across her ear while the rhythm of your cock remained unwavering. She tilted her neck to one side, beckoning you to taste her even more and you obliged, licking across her jaw up to her temple.

"Mhmm....yes, just like that....god, don't stop.."

You helpee her pull off her dress completely to have full access to her goddess like body. You cup your hands on her boobs, which are so soft they can melt from your touch. You squeezed and kneaded, adding a side dish of pleasure to the main course of your cock against her pussy.

You let a hand travel down between her legs and there you attacked her weak spot, rubbing her clit. Miyeon's eyes widened at your ambush and her body start to shake violently. You pinched her nipple and she lets out the most euphonius of squirms, which graced your ears like a melody. Miyeon was so overcome with pleasure, she no longer seem to be aware of her own actions. She bucked her hips back each time you pull back your cock, wanting to be filled up at every millisecond. Her milky white was now glistening from all the sweat dripping down from the heat of the moment.

The deadly combination of your fingers and cock finally let her to her orgasm. She moaned at the top of her lungs, juice spilling out of her holes like a dam breaking open. Through her high, you keep fucking her, bringing you closer and closer to your own climax.

"Yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me"

Miyeon cries as your cock kept burying into her to the hilt and back even after she had cummed. Her body twitched and writhed with each thrust her now sensitive pussy took. You were not so far from following Miyeon, the clench of her walls driving you to the finish line until...

"God, yes, fill me up. Cum inside me. Fill your slut with cum"

Miyeon screams as you finally deposited your load into her cunt, sending shots after shots of thick white liquid into her. Your hips bucked wildy, filling her up with each movement. The bliss that you felt is phenomenal, out of this world. Arcs of pleasure coursed through your veins like electricity. You finally come to a halt, panting. You slapped her ass one last time and pull out.

"Oh, god....." Miyeon panted as she lays there on the bed like a broken doll, her face that of pure satisfaction. Her pussy leaked a steady stream of your cum down to her sheets, which were already filthy enough with her spit and juice. But that's what she wanted. She's a slut afterall.

"You are welcome" you said as your body suddenly grew tired from the intense session you went through. You sat down at the foot of the bed, closing your eyes, steadying your breathing. Your mind was still in a state of bliss, imagining what to do with Miyeon next after you recharged again. But for now, you needed rest and you were too tired to walk back to your own bedroom. So, you rested your back against the bed, dozing off.

- × - × - ×-

"Mister?" a female voice rings in your ears.

You open your eyes, an air hostess is looking at you like a pest, unwanted.

"What..what?" you mutter drowsily.

Her eyes glitter with amusement when you yawn.

"We have landed, we have been trying to wake you for fifteen minutes. We thought something happened to you. We have even called the medics"

"Fifteen minutes?" you looked around the empty aircraft, deprived of passengers.

"And you were mummuring some words like... Ogygia and Calypso?"

Your face flushed and look down at the book on your lap, half opened. "The Odyssey" said the cover. "Odysseus and the island of Ogygia" said the title of the chapter on the right page.

It was all a dream. A product of your arousal and obsession. It felt so real, however, you start thinking maybe you really have been to Ogygia and Miyeon have somehow returned you back here.

But that's a fantasy. Just like the photos of Miyeon that filled your gallery, your obsession. Despite the madness, you grin and the air hostess stares at you, her mouth gape open.

"Sorry" you apologize, stading up. Your phone chimes and you look down, only to be greeted by your wallpaper of Miyeon, your own version of Calypso.

This is going to be a long day.

-x-x-x-

(Wrote this a bit longer than I intended to. Thanks for reading as always~)

[tortillamastersblog]

Rock Bottom | Vada Cavell

Pairing: Vada Cavell x reader

Warnings: school shooting, mentions of gunshot wounds, PTSD, nightmares, ANGST

Summary: After getting hurt in the shooting, you try to recover while also taking care of Vada, but she pushes you away until you can’t take it anymore.

Next Part | Masterlist

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I kill the engine of my motorcycle as soon as I pull into a parking spot right in front of the school and take off my helmet, running my fingers through my hair.

I’m a little later than usual, but I’m still on time, so it’s fine. I get off my bike and move to follow the stream of students trickling into the school, but I stop a second later when I hear a familiar laugh.

A smile immediately blooms on my face as I turn around to see Nick and Vada goofing around with Starbucks cups in their hands, making their way toward the school.

“And then when you—” she hops and makes a fart noise with her mouth, “—it could be, like, you’re texting your boss.”

Confused, I frown slightly, wondering what in the world they could possibly be talking about, but I don’t stop smiling. They’re always like this, talking about the most random shit.

“Yeah! Texting your boss,” Nick agrees, flicking some of his shiny hair out of his face. “I love it. We love it.”

“Gotta keep it fancy.” Vada giggles, and then her eyes land on me. She skips over with a bright smile. “Hey!”

“Hi! Good morning. You seem to be in a good mood,” I observe, closing my eyes for a second as she pulls me down by the collar of my shirt to peck my lips.

“Mhmm. We went to Starbucks!” she beams, lifting her half-empty iced coffee for emphasis.

I laugh softly and smile at Nick when he joins us. “I can see that.”

“You want some?” she asks. I nod, taking her cup and sipping from it. It’s a little sweeter than I usually prefer my coffee, but it’s still good, so I take another sip before handing it back.

“We also got some cake pops, but we already ate them in the car,” she adds with an apologetic smile. I just shrug it off and take her free hand, lacing our fingers together.

“It’s fine. Were they at least any good?” I ask as the three of us walk into the school just as the first bell rings.

Nick nods and rolls his eyes dramatically. “So good.”

I laugh softly and shake my head fondly as we quickly make our way to our lockers, grabbing our things before heading to class.

Nick has math first, while Vada and I have geography, so we split at the stairs—Nick whining playfully at the prospect of leaving us, while Vada waves him off before grabbing onto my arm and leaning against me as we walk to class.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asks, looking up at me with sparkling eyes after taking another sip of coffee. It’s honestly adorable how short she is, especially in the baggy clothes she always wears.

I shrug. “My parents have date night, so not much. Why?”

“Well…” She squeezes my arm and stops right in front of our classroom, forcing a couple of students to grumble as they move around us to get inside. “My dad’s making lasagna, and he was wondering if you wanted to come over again.”

“Your dad wants me to come over?” I smile teasingly and brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, yeah. And me too, of course. And Millie… and my mom. They all kind of love you ever since you stayed with us for Christmas,” she says, amusement and a hint of embarrassment dancing in her eyes, which makes me chuckle.

It’s true. Ever since Christmas, which I spent with them while my parents were away in Shanghai for a meeting at their law firm, they’ve loved having me around. Millie keeps texting me about the camera stand I got her so she can film her YouTube videos, and both Mr. and Mrs. Cavell keep thanking me for the basketball season tickets I got them through my parents' firm.

“In that case, how could I possibly refuse?” I press a chaste kiss to her hairline. “But I have practice after school, so I won’t be able to come over right away.”

“That’s fine.” She beams and touches my chin fondly before the tardy bell forces us to move and step into the classroom.

We find two empty seats at the front of the room and pull out our things while Ms. Foster tells the other students to settle down.

The lesson begins, and even though I listen and take notes, I keep stealing glances at Vada. I love the way her eyes shine with curiosity as she listens, and I love it even more when she asks questions I never would have thought of. She’s so smart and funny, and it’s honestly a mystery how she ended up with me.

The first time we talked was two years ago when she ran into me in the cafeteria, making me spill my juice all over myself. After that, we made small talk in the hallway until we were paired for a chemistry project. By the end of it, I somehow found the courage to ask her out, even though I almost had a nervous breakdown because of it, and she said yes. Now, we have been together for over a year and a half.

She always comes to my track meets, and I always go to Barnes & Noble with her, carrying her books while she browses the shelves. Of course, we do other things too, like cooking together or going bowling with our friends, but what matters most is that we show up for each other.

Vada’s phone buzzing on her table snaps me out of my thoughts. I glance at her when it buzzes again, and she looks at the screen with a frown.

“Everything okay?” I ask quietly.

She looks up and shakes her head before turning her phone toward me.

Millie (8:49 AM)

911

Call me.

I frown too and tilt my head toward the door, silently telling her to go and call her. She nods and raises her hand, waiting for Ms. Foster to notice before asking to go to the bathroom. As she leaves, she throws one last look in my direction.

I shoot her an encouraging smile and watch her go, hoping Millie is okay before trying to focus back on the lesson.

It’s adorable how well the two of them get along, and it’s clear how much Millie looks up to Vada. Sometimes, I wish I had siblings, but then again, I’m over at the Cavells’ so often that Millie is basically my sister too. She constantly ropes me into helping her film YouTube videos or makes me take her to Starbucks. She’s a cute kid, and Vada loves her, so I love her too.

A couple of minutes pass, and I start to wonder why Vada has been gone so long. But before I can dwell on it any further, the door flies open.

And then all hell breaks loose.

I flinch as the sting of antiseptic sears through my ear, sending pain shooting down my neck and across the entire left side of my face.

What’s going on?

I blink rapidly, only now realizing that I’m no longer at school.

Where am I?

There’s beeping. Voices shouting. The sterile scent of antiseptic mixing with the sharp, metallic tang of blood.

I’m in a hospital.

I’m in the hospital.

How—Why—I don’t—

“Darling, oh my God!”

My mother’s voice pulls me from the haze, and I barely register the nurse who was just standing beside me as she steps back, pulling off her gloves.

Then my parents rush to my side—deathly pale, horror-stricken, still in their office clothes, so starkly different from the scrubs around them.

“Are you—Are you okay?” My dad’s voice shakes as he cups my face, his fingers trembling against my cheek as he inspects the bandage wrapped around my head.

My mom grabs my limp hands, squeezing them between hers. Her grip is so tight, it almost hurts.

“I don’t…” I trail off, suddenly dizzy, lightheaded.

Only now do I realize that my left ear is ringing. A sharp, relentless whine.

I swallow dryly, my throat thick. My mind is blank, disoriented. I don’t understand how I got here.

“What happened?” I whisper.

My parents share a look, silent but heavy with concern, before my mom finally speaks, her voice wavering. “There was a shooting, darling. You… You were… your ear.”

My ear?

I pull my hand free from hers and raise it to my left ear.

The moment I touch the bandage, pain jolts through me like a live wire. And then suddenly—

The door flies open.

There’s a loud bang.

It feels like someone punched me in the side of my head

I fall to the floor.

My ears are ringing.

Something hot and sticky drips down the side of my neck.

“Sweetheart?”

I flinch and my eyes snap open. My parents are staring at me, their faces wet with tears.

“You’ve been shot,” my dad says, his voice breaking. “That bastard… He— you—”

He chokes on a sob, and my mom’s grip on my hands tightens as tear slips down her cheek.

Shot.

I’ve been shot.

There was a shooting.

My mind is racing, but at the same time, it feels like I can’t think at all. It’s like my brain is fogged up, refusing to process what happened.

No matter how hard I try to remember, I can’t.

“What?” My voice sounds distant to my own ears, but my dad repeats himself, telling me there’s been a shooting and that I almost died.

I almost died.

A lot of others did die.

No, that can’t be. That can’t—

“Vada,” I breathe, suddenly remembering how she looked back at me right before leaving the classroom. “Where’s Vada? Is she okay? Is she okay?!”

I go to stand up, but my mom immediately presses a hand to my shoulder, keeping me down.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears as she says something, but nothing really registers until I finally catch:

“…talked to her mom… she’s fine. She’s at home and she’s fine.”

Fine.

She’s fine.

I need to see her.

I need to see her now.

“I— I need to see her,” I say, my breath coming too fast, my ear throbbing in sync with my pulse. “I need to— I need to—”

“Alright.” My dad’s hand lands on my knee, grounding me just enough to meet his gaze. “We’ll go see her, but first, we need to get you discharged.”

I nod frantically, my chest tightening.

There was a shooting. I’ve been shot. I almost died.

But Vada is fine.

She’s fine.

After what feels like forever, the same nurse who stitched me up returns. She hands my parents discharge papers and gives them a bottle of painkillers to take home.

She instructs them on how to look for signs of infection and warns that I might have temporary tinnitus in my left ear, but that it should go away once the shock wears off.

Then she sends us on our way.

Outside, my parents help me toward the car, and my mom makes me pull on a clean shirt from my gym bag before we drive off to Vada’s.

The car feels too small, too quiet, and too loud all at once.

My parents keep talking, their voices muffled, like I’m hearing them through a wall.

“Does your ear hurt? The nurse said you should take something when we get home.”

“We still need to call your uncle—he’s been trying to reach us since he saw the news.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

I stare out the window, watching buildings blur past. I don’t want to answer. I don’t want to think about the last thing I remember.

I vaguely hum in response, not sure which question I’m even answering.

“Honey?” My mom reaches behind her from the passenger seat and squeezes my knee gently.

“I’m fine,” I mutter.

They don’t press, but I feel their worried glances through the rearview mirror.

Then, finally, we pull onto the Cavells’ street.

Before the car even fully stops, I take off my seatbelt and push the door open.

“Slow down!” My dad shouts as I stumble out of the car, my legs unsteady beneath me.

“Sweetheart, wait!” My mom’s voice follows, but I barely hear them.

All I can focus on is Vada.

I half-stumble, half-run toward the front door, my breath coming hard and fast.

She’s fine, they said.

But I need to see for myself.

I reach the porch and bang on the door, my hands shaking.

"Y/N," Vada's mom breathes when she opens the door. “Oh, God.”

She pulls me into a hug and I let her despite my burning need to see Vada.

“Are you— Do you— How are you feeling?” she stammers.

“I’m okay,” I croak. “I just— Vada…”

She pulls back and cups my cheeks for a moment, looking me over with tears in her eyes. “Of course,” she sniffles. “Go.”

"Thank you," I whisper, slipping past her just as my parents reach the front door.

Being close with Vada’s parents, they immediately pull each other into silent, grief-stricken hugs, murmuring about what happened.

I don’t stop. I can’t stop.

I single-mindedly make my way to Vada’s room, so focused on reaching her that I don’t notice the bathroom door swinging open next to me until I stumble straight into Millie.

“S-Sorry,” I stammer, my chest tightening when I see the way her eyes widen at the sight of me.

"Y/N…” she breathes, her gaze darting to the bandage wrapped around my head.

Before I can react, she throws her arms around my waist, holding on tight.

"I'm okay," I say automatically even though I'm really not. Not even close. But I don’t know how to feel right now. I just need to see Vada.

Millie nods against my chest, still clinging to me, before slowly pulling back. She watches me, searching for some kind of reaction or reassurance, so I force a small smile and pull her in for another hug, holding her just a little longer this time.

"I promise I'm okay," I murmur, even though it feels like a lie. How's...How's Vada?"

Millie exhales shakily, shifting on her feet. "I don’t know," she admits. "She’s… quiet. She just took a bath. I’ve never seen her like this, Y/N."

The burn in my chest deepens.

I need to see her.

I nod, and luckily, Millie seems to understand.

She sighs, then steps aside and whispers, "Just go. See for yourself."

I murmur a quiet, "Thank you," and move past her, hearing our parents still murmuring in the living room as I finally reach Vada's door.

I raise my hand, knocking softly before carefully pushing it open.

The room is dimly lit by the fairy lights strung behind the headboard of the bed, their soft glow casting warm shadows along the walls, and a candle flickers on her desk, the scent faint but lingering.

But it’s quiet.

Too quiet.

Vada always listens to music whenever she can, but now… there’s nothing.

Just silence.

Awful, suffocating silence.

My heart tightens when I finally spot her. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her back turned to me, wrapped only in a towel.

Her hair is twisted up into a messy bun, probably to keep it dry during her bath, but a few damp strands cling to the back of her neck. As I step closer, I notice the goosebumps along her bare skin.

“Vada?” My voice is quiet because I don't want to startle her, but she flinches anyway, her shoulders jerking slightly. She doesn’t turn around though.

I move closer, walking around the bed until I’m kneeling in front of her.

She's staring at the wall with a vacant look in her eyes. It scares me, so I slowly reach out, brushing my fingers against her knee. The warmth of my touch seems to pull her back, and her gaze shifts until she finally sees me.

Recognition floods her expression, but she still doesn’t say anything.

Her eyes flicker to the bandage around my head and to my left ear, and she stares at it for a long moment before her lips part in a silent gasp.

Her eyes fill with tears and she whimpers, and before I can react, a sob tears out of her.

It racks her entire body, her shoulders trembling violently as she breaks and I rise immediately, pulling her into my chest, my arms wrapping tightly around her as she cries quietly.

I press a kiss to the top of her head and blink rapidly when my own eyes start to sting.

I can’t believe what happened.

I can’t believe we’re here right now. We should be at school!

I hold Vada against me, feeling her clutch at my shirt and pulling me closer.

But then, she shivers, and I pull back, looking down to see that her lips are turning slightly blue.

She’s freezing.

“Let’s get you dressed, my love,” I whisper, cupping her face and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She doesn’t argue as I carefully untangle her arms from around me. I turn toward her closet, rummaging through it with one hand while pressing the other against my temple as my ear throbs.

A wave of dizziness hits me, but I push through it, focusing on her instead.

I settle on a pair of faded gray sweatpants and one of my shirts she stole ages ago before turning back around and pulling her to her feet, her movements slow and unsteady.

“Okay?” I ask gently, giving her towel a soft tug.

She nods, barely, the vacant look in her eyes returning. It makes my stomach turn, but I exhale softly and undo the towel, helping her into the warm clothes as quickly as possible.

Once she’s dressed, I wrap my arms around her again, burying my face in her hair as I let out a shaky breath.

She’s okay.

For a moment, we stand there in the middle of her room, wrapped in silence. Then, I gently guide her into bed and move the covers over us.

She doesn’t resist. Instead, she turns onto her side, pressing her back against my chest as I sling my arm around her waist, holding her close.

Then she laces our fingers together, pulling my hand up until it’s tucked under her chin before scooting back even more until there’s literally no space left between us.

She sniffs once, a final exhale escaping her lips and then her breathing evens out.

She’s asleep. She's okay and she's asleep.

I feel my own eyelids drooping as I try to stay awake after everything that’s happened, wanting to make sure she’s really okay. But exhaustion and the aftereffects of shock get the better of me, and before I know it, I fall asleep as well.

I jolt awake when Vada sits up with a strangled cry, her breath coming fast and uneven as she looks around frantically.

“Hey, hey, hey.” I sit up too, though much slower than she did, and wrap my arms around her from behind, pulling her close. I press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “You’re okay.”

She nods slowly, her breathing still ragged, but she closes her eyes and grips my forearms tightly where they rest around her stomach.

All night, she had nightmares. It broke my heart, but it also meant I barely got any sleep myself. I tried to stay awake as much as I could, watching over her so I’d be there when she woke up, but in between, I fell into a light, restless sleep.

I didn’t dream, which is probably why I didn’t have any nightmares.

Now, though, I’m exhausted, and my ear hurts worse than ever.

Vada prefers sleeping on her left side, which meant I had to sleep on mine too while holding her. Lying on my injured ear for hours must have irritated it, because now the pain is so intense, I can barely feel the left side of my face.

Even blinking makes my eye ache.

But I don’t move to grab the painkillers my parents left for me last night.

They had peeked into the room about an hour after Vada first fell asleep, quietly waking me to ask if I wanted to go home. I just shook my head and held Vada tighter.

They were hesitant to leave me at first, but then Vada’s mom stepped into the room.

She looked almost relieved when she saw Vada curled up against me. She reassured my parents that it would be okay if I stayed the night, and they finally left after she told me to come get her if I needed anything.

Vada slept through the entire conversation, which made me relax a little.

But two hours later, just as I finally drifted into another light sleep, she had her first nightmare.

“It’s okay,” I whisper again, pressing a kiss to her temple and rubbing my thumbs over her stomach. “It was just a dream.”

Vada shudders and slowly turns around in my arms. The dim morning light seeps into the room through her giant windows, casting long, golden streaks across the floor.

It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.

How ironic.

“I know, it’s just…” she trails off, her gaze darting to my ear.

She frowns, then raises a hand to my jaw and gently tilts my head to the right, studying whatever she just saw.

“Your ear,” she rasps.

I lift a hand to touch it, but the second my fingers graze the bandage, a sharp electric pain shoots through my face, making me flinch hard.

I hiss and pull my hand back, screwing my eyes shut as I try to push the pain away.

“It’s bleeding,” she says.

Before I can react, she pulls me out of bed and leads me into the bathroom, telling me to sit on the edge of the tub.

I want to protest, to tell her the nurse said some bleeding is normal, but she’s out the door before I can say anything.

As soon as she’s gone, exhaustion washes over me again, and the dizziness returns full force.

I want to check the mirror, to see what she saw, but I’m too tired, so I stay seated and wait.

I wait only a minute before Vada returns with her mom, still dressed in pajamas. Her short blonde hair is tied back into a tiny ponytail, and she wears her glasses, blinking sleepily as she steps into the bathroom.

“Oh, that doesn’t look good at all,” she murmurs when she sees me. She brushes some hair out of my face fondly before asking if she can take off the bandage to check my ear.

I nod, too tired to speak, and let her unwrap the bandage while Vada stands back, arms wrapped around herself in a tight hug, her gaze distant and unfocused.

Even though her mom is careful, I grit my teeth when she pulls the gauze away.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” she says softly.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, though my stomach sinks when I see the blood-soaked bandage as she tosses it into the trash can beside the bathtub.

She turns my head slightly, inspecting the wound before clicking her tongue and pulling out a first-aid kit from under the sink.

“Looks like some of your stitches ripped,” she says with an apologetic look. “I’ll put on a new bandage, but you should go to the hospital to get it checked out. Do you want me to call your parents?”

The thought of going to the hospital again and waking my parents this early in the morning makes my chest tighten, but I nod, letting her carefully rebandage my ear.

I know she or Vada’s dad would drive me themselves without hesitation, but I also know my parents would be upset if I didn’t tell them, so I let her call once she’s done.

At some point while she was redressing my wound, Vada left.

I frown at the empty space where she was standing, but before I can dwell on it, she returns with a glass of water and my painkillers.

She hands them over wordlessly and I thank her with a weak smile and a mumbled, "Thanks."

She doesn’t reply. She just nods before taking the empty glass and leaving again.

I don't want to be alone, I don't want her to leave, so I get up and follow her into the kitchen, where her mom is just hanging up the phone.

“Your parents are on their way, honey,” she tells me, squeezing my shoulder gently before ushering me into the living room. “Go sit on the couch and rest until they get here.”

Vada follows and sits beside me, watching me with an unreadable expression.

I hesitate before reaching for her hand, interlacing our fingers in her lap.

“Staring is rude, my love,” I try to joke, but it falls flat.

Vada barely reacts. She just hums softly and forces a small, tired smile, before resting her head on my shoulder.

I know we’re both under a lot of stress, but I expected more of a reaction from her. She always laughs at my jokes. Always.

But I understand why she’s not laughing now.

We sit in silence, the house still dark except for the dim glow of the kitchen light. Millie and Vada’s dad are still asleep.

Then, I hear a car pull into the driveway.

Vada’s mom stands immediately to greet my parents before they can ring the doorbell while I push myself up as well, my legs shaking with exhaustion.

Vada notices. “You good?”

I nod, though I don’t feel good at all. I still keep my hand in hers as we walk to the front door together.

My parents rush to me the moment they see me, concern written all over their faces, but before they can pull me outside, I turn back to Vada, cupping her face gently.

I bend down and press a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you. I’ll talk to you later?”

She barely reacts but gives a quiet “Mhmm. Love you too,” she murmurs, closing her eyes as I kiss her forehead again.

Then my parents coax me outside.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” my mom asks in the car, pulling onto the road while my dad calls the hospital to tell them we’re coming.

“Tired,” I say honestly, though I feel so much more than that. I’m in pain, my brain is still foggy, and I can’t stop worrying about Vada.

She’s been so quiet since this morning.

And I can tell she’s pulling away.

My mom glances at me in the rearview mirror. “That’s… yeah, that’s understandable.”

I can hear the worry in her voice, she and my dad are both worried about me, but I don’t know what to tell them. And I don’t know what they could possibly say to make me feel better.

There’s nothing they can do.

Still, it’s nice that they’re trying.

Despite not being home for Christmas this year, they’ve always been the best and most supportive parents.

They never miss a track meet. They take off work for my birthday and they’ve always made me feel like I can talk to them about anything without fear of getting in trouble.

“Are you in any pain?” my dad asks once he hangs up the phone, turning in his seat to look at me.

“A little, yeah,” I admit. “But I took some painkillers before you picked me up, so it should get better soon.”

“Okay. That’s good.”

He keeps watching me for a moment before nodding, but I turn back to the window.

It’s awkward how quiet it is, but right now, I’m too tired to care. I have nothing to say.

I drift in and out of consciousness, barely aware of my surroundings. I know I’m home, in my bedroom, and for the first time since the shooting, I’m not in pain.

I don’t really remember how I got here. The last thing I recall is being at the hospital, but as the hours drag by and I slip between sleep and wakefulness, fragments of memory return.

A nurse stitched me up again.

While we waited for my discharge papers, I asked my parents what exactly happened.

They shared a look before my dad handed me his phone, showing me news footage.

One shooter. Twelve kids dead. One of them was on my track team.

After that, I don’t remember much. Just the tightness in my chest and the overwhelming certainty that I was about to die.

I remember gasping for air.

I remember a prick in my arm.

And then, nothing.

I continue drifting until I finally wake up at the sound of a knock on my door.

Groggily, I turn over and switch on my bedside lamp just as the door opens. My dad steps inside, carrying a tray.

He’s still wearing his suit from work, though his tie is loosened and the top buttons of his shirt are undone.

“Hey,” he says when he sees I’m awake. “How are you feeling? I— I made you some mac and cheese in case you’re hungry.”

A genuine, if tired, smile tugs at my lips. “Better now. Thanks. I… yeah, I could eat.”

He straightens up like he wasn’t expecting that, then hurries to my side and places the tray on my lap before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Okay, here. Um, I also made you some tea. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect, thanks.” I send him another small smile and take a bite, only now realizing how hungry I am. “Where’s Mom?”

“There was an emergency at the office, but she’ll be back soon,” he explains, patting my leg over the comforter.

“Oh, no, I hope it’s nothing bad.” I try to keep the conversation light, but my dad just waves it off.

“No, don’t worry. It’s nothing.” He hesitates, then clears his throat. “Listen… at the hospital—”

My chest tightens.

“—you kind of had a panic attack. The doctor had to sedate you.”

I blink. “Sedate me?”

“Yeah… You’ve been asleep for almost twenty hours.”

Oh.

“You could barely breathe,” he continues, voice soft. “We were afraid you would—”

I lift a hand, cutting him off before he spirals. “It’s okay, Dad.” I offer a small, tentative smile and take a sip of tea. “Best sleep I ever got.”

He exhales sharply and shakes his head. “Don’t joke about that.”

I chuckle, even though my ear throbs a little. “Sorry, I can’t help it.”

The silence that follows is comfortable, until I remember something. “Sorry for ruining your and Mom’s date night, by the way.”

“What?!” He scoffs and lightly smacks my leg over the comforter. “Why would you say that? It’s just date night. You could have died.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Yeah, but still. You both were looking forward to it. You even had a reservation at that fancy restaurant downtown.”

My dad shrugs, smiling just a little sheepishly. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you.”

A little embarrassed, I look down at my food, smiling too.

The conversation drifts into quiet as I finish eating and then, once I’m done, I take a quick shower while my dad goes downstairs to do the dishes.

My mom comes home shortly after, checking on me before I climb back into bed. I’m exhausted again because the sedative still lingers in my system, and I barely slept at Vada’s.

Speaking of Vada…

Once I’m settled under the blankets, I pull out my phone and text her, ignoring the flood of unread messages from classmates asking if I’m okay.

You (9:12 PM) Hey, I’m sorry I’m only reaching out now. I’ve been asleep most of the day. How are you? What did you do today?

It takes a couple of minutes for her to reply, longer than usual, and it makes me worry because she's usually glued to her phone, but then she answers, and that worry fades.

Vada <3 (9:14 PM) it’s okay

how r u feeling now?

i went and saw nick earlier he asked about you

Her replies are a little shorter than usual, but I brush it off. I shift under the sheets, making sure I’m not lying on my ear before replying.

You (9:15 PM) Better now, but I’m still tired.

That’s good! How’s he? I hope you had a good time.

Again, there’s a delay in her answer, but once again, I think nothing of it.

Vada <3 (9:18 PM) that’s good

get some more rest

nick’s okay we talked about what happened and he’s thinking of starting a petition or something to make sure it doesn’t happen again

You (9:18 PM) I will.

Oh really? That’s great.

My thumbs hover over the screen because I know I want to say something else, but I don’t know what.

A moment later, Vada beats me to it and when I read what she says, my stomach sinks a little.

Vada <3 (9:18 PM) i know, he really might be onto something

you should get some more rest, baby

i’ll talk to you tomorrow

I swallow dryly, not really knowing how to feel before replying.

You (9:19 PM) Yeah, you’re right.

Talk to you tomorrow.

I love you.

The three dots appear at the bottom of the screen, disappearing and reappearing several times before her reply finally comes through.

Vada <3 (9:20 PM) love you too

It’s simple, and I know she means it, but if I’m honest, I was expecting more.

I stare at my screen for a little while, waiting for her to maybe send something else, but she doesn't. I turn off my phone with a sinking feeling, and switch off my bedside lamp before rolling over to get some more sleep.

It has been four days since the shooting, and I am slowly but surely feeling better. The dizziness is gone, and the tinnitus has faded, but I am still exhausted because now, I am starting to have nightmares.

Every night, I wake up in a cold sweat, making my parents rush into my room to calm me down. I usually dream about the shooting, but not about what happened to me. Instead, I dream about Vada—how she is hiding in the bathroom or how she gets hurt right in front of me.

It leaves me breathless and shaking, so I take a cold shower each time to wake myself up and wash away the memory of the dream.

My parents told me I could stay home from school as long as I needed, which I am grateful for. The moment I brought up the idea of seeing a therapist, they immediately agreed, pulling some strings through their connections at work until they got me an appointment with one of the best therapists in LA.

That was yesterday. We did not talk much about the shooting yet, but we went over my panic attack at the hospital. Even though it was draining, it still made me feel better afterward. Talking about everything is exhausting, but I know it is going to help me in the long run.

I also finally answered all the texts I had ignored, letting people know I was fine and that I would be at Brody’s funeral. He was the guy on my track team who was killed. I knew him pretty well, though we were not exactly friends. Still, my teammates and I organized the flower arrangements for his service, which will be held tomorrow.

Over the past few days, I have been texting and calling Vada, but we have not seen each other since that first night. I have been too tired most of the time, and she was told to go back to school.

It aches, knowing she is there while I can stay home, but what hurts even more is how distant she has been.

She answers my texts and calls, but her responses are short. When I asked if I should come over last night, she told me not to because I might overwork myself.

She also keeps saying she is helping Nick organize a protest, but when I texted Nick two days ago, he said he had not seen Vada since the day after the shooting.

It makes me worry, but not because I think she might be cheating. I know she would never do that. What worries me is that she is lying, trying to keep me from realizing how much she is pulling away.

She has become a shell of the person she used to be. Millie noticed it too. She called me this morning, crying about how Vada keeps pushing her away.

I reassured her that Vada was just processing everything, and somehow, she managed to convince me to come over and make slime with her for her YouTube channel.

That is what I am doing now.

I sit in the dining room, holding the camera while Millie chats excitedly about what she is doing. Their mom watches from the kitchen, checking on us every so often with a small smile.

I thought Vada might be here too. I even hoped I could surprise her by showing up. But she is not.

Her mom said she was at Nick’s, but I know she does not believe it either as she keeps glancing at her phone and checking the time on the oven while Sunday morning inches toward eleven o’clock, and Nick is at his protest.

"Blue or red?" Millie asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I adjust my grip on the camera and straighten up. "What?"

She grins and holds up two small tubes of dye. "The slime. Blue or red?"

"Uh, red." I watch as she mixes the color into the slime, my mind still elsewhere, when Vada’s mom suddenly rushes past us toward the front door.

"Where have you been?!" Her voice is filled with relief and anger, and I immediately know who she is talking to. "You’ve been gone all night! We were worried sick about you! If you’re going to spend the night at a friend’s house, just tell us!"

"Mom." Vada groans, storming past her and through the dining room without realizing I’m here.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Her mom follows after her. "Come back here, young lady. We’re not done talking yet. Where were you? And why do you smell like a minibar? Have you been drinking?"

Vada whines, and I hear her stop in the kitchen.

Millie and I share a look. I turn off the camera, sensing the tension thickening in the house. "Maybe we should give them some privacy. How about you show me the morning routine you filmed today?"

She hesitates before nodding and getting up, ready to lead me to her room.

Their voices continue rising behind us as we walk away, but I try to ignore it. It’s none of my business, no matter how much I worry about Vada.

Then, I stop dead in my tracks.

"No, Mom! I didn’t sleep with her, it was just a kiss! We got drunk and—"

My blood turns ice cold.

"You got drunk?" Her mom's voice cuts in, completely skipping over the kiss part. "Please tell me you didn’t get drunk under some bridge or something. Do you know what could have happened if—"

"We didn’t get drunk under a bridge!" Vada snaps. "We were at her place. She has this huge house, and her parents are never home, and—"

I don’t hear the rest.

I can’t hear the rest.

She kissed someone.

She kissed someone else.

From what I’ve just heard, I can only assume it was Mia.

Mia Reed.

Nick told me Vada had been texting her since the shooting because they hid in the bathroom together, but I had no idea they were hanging out.

So this is where she has been every time she lied about being with Nick.

Millie turns to me, her face pale, panic in her eyes. She looks at me, waiting for some kind of reaction, but I can’t move.

I can’t think.

I can’t breathe.

Footsteps approach. My head snaps up, and then Vada steps into the hallway.

She is still arguing with her mom until she sees me.

She stops immediately.

Her face falls, the color draining from her skin as she realizes I heard everything.

"Vada, no, you can’t—" Her mom stops behind her, also noticing me and Millie.

She blinks, clearly having forgotten we were even here.

I don’t care. I can’t care.

I just stare at Vada, and she stares back at me.

It feels like my entire world just shifted, like the ground has cracked beneath my feet, but I am still standing. My hands start shaking. My heart pounds in my chest.

No.

She didn’t.

How could she?

Why would she?

"Y/N..." Vada breathes, her voice low and scratchy. She takes a step toward me, reaching out, even though she’s still several feet away.

Her voice snaps me out of my trance, and suddenly, my eyes burn with tears.

I look away, staring at the floor, trying to keep it together. When I meet her eyes again, all I see is guilt. Regret.

She takes another step forward, about to say something, but I speak before she can.

"I… should go."

"Y/N…" she tries again, but I shake my head.

I turn to Millie, who looks like she’s about to cry. She has always looked up to her sister, and now she has to witness all of this.

I swallow hard and force my voice to stay steady. "I’ll see you soon, yeah?"

Millie hesitates, glancing between me, her mom, and Vada before nodding with a small frown.

"Okay then…" I try to smile, but it barely comes through.

I turn around, not daring to meet Vada’s eyes when I brush past her.

Her mom gives me a pitiful look, but I don’t acknowledge it. My mind is already slipping into numbness as I make my way to the front door.

I slip on my shoes, the silence in the house suffocating, then open the door and step outside.

I make it to my car, hands still shaking as I unlock it, but freeze when I hear her voice again.

"Y/N, wait!"

I don’t.

She rushes down the porch steps, but I get in the car, pull the door shut, and reverse out of the driveway before she can reach me.

I can barely see the road.

My hands won’t stop trembling, my chest feels tight, and I know I can’t drive home like this.

After rounding the block, I pull over to the curb and kill the engine.

For a moment, I just sit there, staring blankly ahead.

Then, without warning, the weight of everything crashes down, and I completely break down.

So this is what rock bottom feels like. Just when I thought things were looking up a little.

_______________________________________________

💔

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Propaganda under the Read More:

Alexander von Humboldt:

a. Influential explorer, researcher and polymath with many discoveries in the fields of geography, biology, zoology, astronomy and more. Also has experience with sticking things up his butt. For scientific reasons of course.

Thomas-Alexandre Dumas:

a. “mustache” b. “Tall! Daring! Swashbuckling! A devoted husband and father! Had a personal conflict with Napoleon! Also it was said he could, while holding onto a bar above his head, LIFT A HORSE WITH HIS THIGHS. How is he not on this list ten times already! Vote for General Dumas!” c. “He was so hot that he inspired The Three Musketeers, The Count of Monte Cristo, and many more books that his son, Alexandre Dumas, wrote. He definitely looked the part of a sexyman, as he son recounts in his memoirs: "My father, as already stated, was twenty-four, and as handsome a young fellow as could be found anywhere. His complexion was dark, his eyes of a rich chestnut colour […]. His teeth were white, his lips mobile, his neck well set on his powerful shoulders, and, in spite of his height of five feet nine inches, he had the hands and feet of a woman. These feet were the envy of his mistresses, whose shoes he was very rarely able to put on." He could crush you between his thighs: "His free colonial life had developed his strength and prowess to an extraordinary degree; he was a veritable American horse-lad, a cowboy. His skill with gun or pistol was the envy of St. Georges and Junot. And his muscular strength became a proverb in the army. More than once he amused himself in the riding-school by passing under a beam, and lifting his horse between his legs." He was so badass he could beat 13 men with 4 and take all the enemy prisoner, and defend against hundreds of men on a bridge by himself. He performed these acts of valour numerous times in Italy. He was so formidable that the Austrians named him the "Schwartz Teufel", or the Black Devil, and his feat at the bridge earned him the moniker of "Horatius Cocles of Tyrol". He wasn't afraid to stand up to his morals and protest against unfair treatment. When unjust executions by the guillotine were happening outside his quarters, he closed the blinds of his curtains, earning him the nickname "Mr. Humanity". When in the Vendée, he complained about the wanton indiscipline in his troops. When in Italy, Berthier wrongly reported his actions as one of "observation" in St. Antonio. Dumas wrote to General Bonaparte that if Berthier was in the same position, he would have shit his pants. Dumas abhorred plunder, never exhorted the locals, and ordered the Directory agent who had come to persuade him otherwise be shot if he dared present himself to Dumas again. Integrity and a sense of moral justice is sexy, mark my words. For Dumas' final qualifier as a sexyman, look no further than this Tumblr heritage post (https://www.tumblr.com/petermorwood/133803437020/hortensevanuppity-elodieunderglass), with 300,000 notes and counting. And I quote: "- daddy general dumas was an immense fierce french warrior who was a 6 foot plus, stunningly gorgeous and charismatic Black gentleman - he invaded egypt - the native egyptians said “is this napoleon? this must be napoleon. we for one welcome our majestic new overlord” - then napoleon showed up - napoleon has all the presence of yesterday’s plain Tesco hummus - the native egyptians were like “… no… no, we’ve thought very hard and we’ll have General Dumas actually” - this did not make napoleon happy - in fact it made him jealous - napoleon felt so emasculated that he launched a campaign of revenge against General Dumas, including taking away his pension, that probably inspired a lot of Alexandre’s rather satisfying scenes in which fathers are nobly avenged and the money-grubbing villains are rubbed in the mud" I rest my case. Tl;dr: He was so hot he inspired multiple books, he was a stronk man who could crush you between his thighs or carry you like a sack of potatoes, and he was so badass that he could take on odds of 1 to 3. He had a foul mouth but a heart of gold and his actions were never self-serving. Posts relating to him on Tumblr have had 300,000 notes and counting. He is qualitatively and quantitatively qualified to be a sexyman.”

[asahicore]

love calculator - pjh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!jihoon x fem!reader

synopsis. You were sure that Jihoon only took care of you so well because your brother had tasked him with looking after you when you started university, so you tried not to read too much into his actions until you couldn't deny your increasing sensitivity around your best friend anymore. What you didn't know was Jihoon was going crazy, finding ways to make his feelings for you more obvious than they already were.

genre. f2l, brother's friend, slight childhood friends action, college au, slow burn?, fluff, smut (mutual first time, they do it raw, dirty talking, very soft dom!jihoon)

warnings. jihoon is a menace, jihoon has a hot bod, junkyu is mean to everyone, mc is a bit slow, side romance but i dont actually ship idols i have a life, omegle, ok theres no actual stuff to be warned about its all good in there

word count. 28.2k dont ask me why or how idk either

a/n. there she is... i spent SO much time on her pls love it lots or i'll cry.. it was sm fun writing for jihoon omg i hope u love hoonyn as much as i do !!! @zreamy my dear sweet little zo ty for betareading this and freaking out over jihoon u rock

1K follower trope event - requested by @mosviqu, tysm for requesting and i really hope u enjoy it !!!! - listen to the playlist!

Oddly enough, it was Jihoon’s biceps that first made you think something was wrong with you.

It was the fourth week of the spring semester, that odd in-between when you knew midterms were creeping up but were still far away enough to be ignored. This meant that you could party guilt-free.

The plan for tonight was to pregame at one of those huge uni dorms where ten students shared a kitchen then head to an overpriced club downtown that always had the best music on Friday nights. You didn’t have any classes on Fridays, so you’d headed to Jihoon’s place around four p.m. to get ready together. Usually, that was something you’d do with Minjeong, your roommate, but that weekend, she was away for an excursion with her Geography course. 

He was in the shower when you rang the doorbell, so his flatmate let you in, and you made yourself comfortable on his bed while waiting for him. You were so engrossed in the romance Webtoon you’d started that morning that at first, when he came in, you didn’t even look up from your phone. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he said casually, unfazed by your sudden appearance in his room. The soft smell of his body wash filled the room, and you noted with smugness that it was the one you had jokingly given him for Christmas after you’d gotten fed up with his strong, ever-present Axe scent. 

“Hey, Hoonie. You smell nice. For once.”

He chuckled. “It’s all thanks to you.”

“What would you do without me?” you said with a sigh, then looked up. You shouldn’t have. “Oh.”

The sight you were met with was unlike anything you’d ever seen in real life - Jihoon in all his post-shower half-naked glory, a simple white towel hanging low on his hips. Small beads of water fell from his hair and dripped down his chiseled chest and onto the plush carpet lining his bedroom.

You were pretty sure you’d seen at least five scenes like this in your romance comics.

“Oh?” he parroted.

You squinted your eyes at your friend before turning your attention back to your phone. “You’re naked.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin widen. “I’m wearing a towel.”

“A towel isn’t clothes.” He turned around to rummage through his closet, and you took that opportunity to observe him more closely. This was the first time you saw your friend without a shirt, and you were trying your very hardest to not freak out, but it was a bit hard not to. Who would have known that under his baggy shirts and sweaters, Jihoon was hiding firm abs, broad shoulders, defined back muscles and protruding biceps?

His arms were what really got you, because you felt like you should have noticed them before. You’d already caught yourself staring a little bit too hard at the veins on his hands and forearms during a lecture before, so you could’ve conjectured that the upper part of his arms was well-defined as well. As mesmerizing as the shifting of his shoulder muscles was, what you really couldn’t look away from was the bump that formed his bicep. 

“Jihoon, have you always had… arms?”

You had barely even realized you’d said this out loud until Jihoon turned around, a confused look on his face. His lips drew into a smirk when he saw how fixed your gaze on his biceps was.

“No, they just grew recently. Thank you for noticing.”

“No, I mean… arms. Muscles.”

“Oh, these?” he said, flexing his arms and pecking his biceps in such a cheesy way that it snapped you out of your reverie and made you burst into laughter. “I started working on them last year so, yeah, they’ve been around a while.”

“Huh,” you said, then picked your phone up again and resumed your reading. “Well, you should work harder, ‘cause it’s the first time I noticed them.”

Jihoon scoffed. “Don’t act like you weren’t just drooling over my dream bod just seconds ago.”

You looked up, outraged. “I wasn’t drooling, I was observing. And don’t call it a dream bod, that’s gross.”

“My bod is a dream bod.”

“Stop it.”

“Can you look away from my dream bod for a sec? I need to put some pants on.”

“I’m already actively not looking. This dude is way hotter than you, by the way,” you said, waving your phone.

“Let me see him,” Jihoon said, heading towards you after successfully putting a shirt and sweatpants on. Gray sweatpants, you realized with a frown. He took your phone and looked back and forth between the character on the screen and you, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Y/N, this is a two-dimensional fictional character that exists in a fairyland. It hurts my feelings when you call him hotter than me.”

A lip grew on your lips. “Yes, but he has pointy ears and doesn’t refer to his body as a dream bod, so he’s a ten in my books.”

As you spoke, Jihoon lay down on his bed, stretching his arms behind his head and resting it on his palms, looking up at you with a grin. You didn’t know what to make of the sudden flip of your stomach.

“Will I be a ten in your books if I stop calling it a dream bod?”

You laughed. “Dream bod doesn’t even sound real anymore.”

“I don’t think it ever was, to be honest,” Jihoon replied, laughing along. “Or maybe they invented it for me.”

--

After that riveting discussion, you watched the show you’d been watching together (which, you had been surprised to find, Jihoon had the discipline to not watch ahead for), then finished getting ready. That night out hadn’t been particularly extraordinary. Pre-gaming had been fun and chaotic, but the line at the club had been so long that you’d all sobered up by the time you were inside and none of you felt compelled to pay for six dollar shots. At least the good music and nice DJ that took all of your requests made up for it.

The interesting bit happened on the bus ride back home.

By some miracle, Jihoon had run into some of his friendly course seniors that apparently liked him so much, they decided to pay for all of his drinks. Only an hour after getting into the club, he was nothing short of wasted. In your five months of being at university with him, you’d not once seen him in such a state - disheveled hair (from dancing too hard or from getting his hair ruffled like a cute dog by all of his seniors, you weren’t sure), deep red blush staining his cheeks, forehead, ears and neck, unfocused eyes and constant lopsided grin. When he almost tripped over his own feet during Gimme More by Britney Spears, you knew it was time to go home.

Jihoon was usually the one that had to deal with a drunk you, so you didn’t mind taking care of him this time. It was actually kind of fun, seeing this new side of the person who had become your closest friend in the past months. 

Luckily for you, a night bus ran directly from the downtown area you were in to the street you and Jihoon lived on, and you managed to lug him to the bus stop. Getting him onto the bus and into a seat was an arduous task, but you made it, and were enjoying a calm, uneventful ride home until you felt Jihoon’s head drop onto your shoulder. You thought he’d just fallen asleep, but then the unmistakable sound of his voice made itself known to your ears.

“Y/N, Y/N…” Jihoon murmured with a muffled voice, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You tried to ignore the prickly feeling down your spine when his lips moved against your skin.

“Yes, Hoonie?” you asked, a tilt of amusement to your voice. You really had never seen your friend so intoxicated.

He sighed, lifting his head from your shoulder and resting it against the window with a bang. He didn’t even wince at the impact of his head against the glass - the alcohol had apparently rid him of the sensation of pain.

“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled, voice so quiet you had to ask him to repeat himself. “I said don’t call me that!” 

You were taken aback by his sudden burst of irritation, but he sounded more like an upset child than anything.

“Call you what? Hoonie?”

“Yes.”

“Why? I’ve always called you that.” You tilted your head at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road outside.

“Exactly. You’re the only one who calls me that. Everyone else says Jihoon,” he said, annoyance clear in his voice. It sounded like this had been bothering him for a while, but it was complete news to you. “Can’t you even be bothered to say my full name, or something?”

You chuckled and brushed some hair out of his face. Like an angry cartoon character, he puffed air out of his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. His frown deepened and a blush spread over his face that was already red from the alcohol. “Should I call you Jihoon from now on?” you asked softly.

His reaction was immediate. He whipped around, almost knocking your head with his, a look of total alarm on his face. His eyes were almost teary. “No!” he exclaimed loudly, garnering glares from some of the other passengers in the bus who probably wanted some quiet this late at night. “No,” he repeated, this time more quietly, and turned back to the window.

In slight disbelief, you chuckled again. “What am I supposed to call you, then?”

“Just-” he started, but cut himself off with a sigh. “Just call me whatever.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’ll stick to Hoonie, then.” 

He groaned as he lifted his head from the window and let it fall back against your shoulder. The angle must’ve made it highly uncomfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only stayed still for a few seconds before shifting slightly and burying his face in the dip between your shoulder and your neck once more, then let out a low hum of satisfaction. 

“You smell nice,” he mumbled. Your breath caught in your throat. He was too close, his lips were too soft and his breath was too warm against your skin. Your whole body felt hot, like the bus driver had suddenly cranked the heat up and turned the bus into a sauna. “Like almonds,” he added, pressing his nose deeper into the base of your neck and inhaling there.

You tried to laugh, hoping it would dissipate the tension in your body, but it only came out as a choked sound. “It’s my body lotion,” you explained, voice weaker than you’d intended.

“Hm.”

You didn’t know what it was about Jihoon’s proximity that made your head spin so - no one had ever made you feel this way, and the fact that your body was reacting so intensely to someone you had considered your best friend for the past months made it all the more confusing.

“Are you asleep?” you asked him in a small voice after he’d been silent for some minutes.

“Just sleepy,” he murmured, shifting in his seat again. You tried not to shiver at the tickling sensation of his hair against your neck.

A pause. “Jihoon?”

“Don’t call me that.” You smiled, but there was a slight whine to his voice that, for some reason, made your heart ache. 

You corrected yourself. “Hoon?”

“Mmh?”

“Why did it bother you that I call you Hoonie, all of a sudden?”

He took so long to answer that you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. “Because… every time you call me that, it makes me love you more,” he answered, voice getting gradually lower until it became a whisper.

Everything seemed to disappear around you. The other passengers, the seat underneath you, the blinking lights and the night sky outside the window. It was just you and Jihoon, his body warm next to yours and the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.

“Makes you… love… me?” you echoed tentatively. 

But no answer came. When you bent your head down to look at Jihoon, it seemed like he had fallen completely asleep, mouth slightly agape and the blush of alcohol still red on his face. You didn’t know what to make of his words, but there was no point asking him about them now. So you let him sleep on your shoulder, only waking him once you were nearing his stop. 

--

Jihoon woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a bruised ego.

He had always prided himself in his ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol and yet only end up tipsy. Sure, it wasn’t exactly good for his body, but it meant that he never had to turn down a drink or watch on the sidelines as his friends did shots, and he could still get home just fine and not wake up with a head-splitting hangover the next day. Unlike you, who started giggling for no reason after one pint of beer and who tore it up on the dancefloor or talked to strangers like you’d been besties for years after two shots of tequila.

It only made his state of the previous night that much more embarrassing. He wished he had your amazing memory-erasing superpowers - but sadly, he didn’t, and what happened in the bus was glued to his brain. 

Before he could even lift his head or get a cup of water, his phone rang, the sound invading his ears and splitting his head in two. He slid a thumb across his phone to accept the video call and was greeted by a close-up of Junkyu’s smiling face.

“Rise and shine! I heard someone got their party on last night.”

Jihoon groaned loudly, chucking his phone somewhere on his bed so he didn’t have to see his friend’s face anymore. His was definitely not the face he wanted to see first thing in the morning. Unfortunately for Jihoon, Junkyu had been blessed with an extraordinarily loud voice that still rang clear even when the speakers of Jihoon’s phone were stifled by his blankets.

“Y/N sent me a video of you. You looked ridiculous, man.”

“I hate you. I hate your face, I hate the way you talk, I hate how mean you are to me-”

“I can’t hear you. What was that?”

With another groan and a lot of difficulty, Jihoon raised his upper body and retrieved his phone. “You suck.”

Junkyu’s smile widened. “Well, that’s all from me. Have a glass of water!” he said cheerily before hanging up. Jihoon had never wanted to kill someone so badly.

His murderous feelings softened when he turned his head to find a plastic bottle of water and a headache pill along with a handwritten note on his bedside table. Have this and text me when you wake up! with five hearts at the bottom. It wasn’t signed, but he knew it was from you.

When the two of you met up for brunch sometime later, he kept searching your face and reading into your actions for any sign that what he’d said last night had made you uncomfortable. He’d expected you to be awkward around him, but your attitude almost made him think he’d imagined the whole thing. You joked around with him as usual, as if he hadn’t practically confessed to you last night, and he was desperate to know what might be going through your mind.

Had you forgotten? Had you chalked it up to him being drunk and talking nonsense? Had he had just thought it very hard, and not actually said it out loud? Or, worst of all, had you heard it all and understood him and decided to just ignore it for the sake of your friendship?

Jihoon was going crazy. He could barely taste his chicken and waffles.

The truth was, you just had no idea what to make of his words, and you were scared bringing it up might make things awkward. Jihoon could have forgotten all about it, or he could have meant something entirely different from where your wild, romance-comic-filled imagination went. Save for his tired eyes and groggy voice, he was no different at breakfast than he usually was, so you dropped it.

--

“Okay, Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go home now.” 

Different Friday night, different party. A week had passed and neither of you had mentioned what Jihoon had said on the bus - it wasn’t quite out of your minds just yet, but you’d both separately decided to pretend nothing had happened.

This time, Jihoon had found you in the hallway playing beer pong and downing the cup of beer your opponent had thrown the ball into. Everybody cheered you on as you gulped the cheap liquid down before lifting the empty cup over your head, eyes screwed shut at the unpleasant bitterness in your mouth. Jihoon wasn’t sure why you were playing - you hated beer, and you had one of the worst throws he’d ever seen. But even he, who was supposed to look after you, couldn’t suppress a smile at your attempt and inevitable total fail at scoring a point for your team. Even with all the concentration in the world, the sheer amount of alcohol in your system would’ve made it impossible for you to make it.

Back against the wall and arms crossed over his chest, he watched amusedly as you squinted your eyes at the cups across the table from you, even sticking out your tongue as if that would make your aim any better. After a few tense seconds, you threw the ping-pong ball and hit Lee Jeno right in the chest. You’d giggled at your own failure, letting people pat you on the back for trying and reassure you that it’s okay (even though you really didn’t care) before stumbling right into Jihoon. 

As soon as you’d recognized your friend’s face, you’d thrown your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a hug as you yelled his name happily; his hands had come up to your hips and gently pushed your body away from his. Then, he’d said the words you always hated to hear at a party.

“But we just got here!” you cried, the same answer you always gave him when he wanted to leave. You started walking away from him and back into the kitchen for more alcohol. He sighed but was quick to follow you.

“We got here three hours ago. Plus we did pres at Yoshi’s place. You’ve had way more than enough to drink,” he said, snatching a cup you’d just filled with punch from your hands.

“I was gonna drink that!” you complained, leaning against the counter for support. 

Jihoon took in your swaying body and your dazed eyes and knew he had to get you home. Any more alcohol and you’d pass out in this stranger’s apartment. Usually, he’d let you drink to your heart’s content and just make sure you got home safe afterwards, but midterms were coming up, and you’d planned on studying the next day - he was just trying to minimize the severity of your hangover. 

You mustered your most pitiful expression - to drunk you, there was no way Jihoon could resist your pouty lips and sad eyes. “Do we really have to go?” you asked, and Jihoon had to read your lips because of the loud music. 

He smirked, seeing right through your little act. He bent his upper body so that his lips were right next to your ear. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” he replied, making you drop your fake sad expression.

“I should go say bye to Minjeong and the others first.”

“I’ve already told them we were leaving.”

You rolled his eyes at him and his stupid smile and lifted yourself from the counter, immediately losing your balance. Maybe you had drunk too much. At least Jihoon was there to catch you and prevent you from falling. He tried to put his arm around your shoulder to support you but you stepped away from him and fixed him a pointed look.

“I can still walk, you know.”

Jihoon smiled but said nothing, gesturing at you to go on and walk. You turned around and started making your way out of the place, ignoring Jihoon’s snickers as you bumped into various party-goers and pieces of furniture.  

When you reached the front door, you decided that actually, no, you couldn’t walk. Sliding against the wall, you let yourself drop into a crouching position. Your head suddenly felt like it was twice its normal weight and you regretted those last few shots of whatever it was you had drunk.

Jihoon sighed as he lowered himself and grabbed you under your armpits to lift you up. He had never been more thankful for an elevator and a bus stop only a minute’s walk away from where you were. Standing under bright lights in a desert and quiet street, it appeared like an oasis to Jihoon. Whoever’s party this had been, they lived in a really calm part of town. At this time on a Friday night, Jihoon’s street would be teeming with drunk students deciding which bar or club they should head to next.

You had never been more thankful for a bus stop with seats. You plopped yourself down on one of them, resting your head on the glass behind you and tightening your jacket around your shoulders. You closed your eyes, deciding this was the perfect time for a nap. 

“Are you cold?” Jihoon asked, his voice keeping you from nodding off. You let out a non-committal hum in response which he wasn’t sure how to interpret. He chuckled and you heard a rustling sound before feeling an added weight on top of your body. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, then sat by your side.

Next thing you knew, Jihoon was making you stand again, and your feet moved of their own accord as he led you inside the bus. As soon as you were seated, you drifted back off to sleep. You jolted awake when your head drooped over, making you feel like you were falling. You sat up straight and looked around the empty bus, frantically asking Jihoon where you were.

“I’m taking you home,” he answered, laughter clear in his voice.

“Oh, okay,” you mumbled, and closed your eyes once more, falling back asleep in a matter of seconds. 

Jihoon watched with a tender smile as your mouth opened slightly and let soft snores escape it. Scooting closer to you, he placed his palm on your cheek and pulled your head towards his shoulder so it could rest there.

“Why do you drink so much if you can’t handle it?” he asked quietly, even though he knew you were already in dreamland.

--

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt like a kid who had fallen asleep in the car on the way home from a distant relative's wedding and mysteriously woken up in their bed. You stretched out your limbs, enjoying the softness and warmth of your sheets covering your body until a headache and pasty mouth hit you like a ton of bricks. It felt like the alcohol had made your brain shrivel inside of your skull - your whole body was screaming for water. 

Some kind of miracle had made a large glass of water appear on your bedside table, and you gulped it down in mere seconds. The hour on your phone read 10:24 a.m. - so much for getting up early and going to study at the library. 

You’d have rather stayed curled up under your blankets and slept the rest of your hangover off, but some rustling noises from the kitchen (and an intense need to pee) forced you out of the comfort of your bed. You stumbled into the kitchen to find Jihoon placing a pancake atop an already dangerously high stack. 

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted you, glancing at you with a smirk on his face as you made your way towards him. You stood behind him and rested your forehead at the base of his neck, as if catching a few last seconds of sleep. 

The feeling of your hair against his skin sent shivers down his spine and he hoped his shaky intake of breath had gone unnoticed by you. His pancake was ready and he had to put it on the plate behind him, but as if a cat had fallen asleep in his lap, he couldn’t get himself to move. This was a moment he wanted to cherish - although you never particularly kept your distance from him, he was still always greedy for more of your touch.

“Hey, Hoonie,” you replied in a groggy voice. “Thank you for breakfast,” you said, moving to rest your lower back against the counter next to the stove. He missed you immediately. “And sorry for being a nuisance last night.”

Jihoon smiled at you as he turned to place the pancake on the stack. Then he leaned in slightly and you made sure not to breathe through your mouth so he wouldn’t smell your morning breath. 

“You always apologize, and yet who’s dragging you home every single weekend?” he asked with an amused grin that let you know he wasn’t actually bothered by it.

He turned back to his pan and ladled more batter into it, forming a perfectly circular pancake. “Sorry,” you repeated guiltily.

He shook his head. “I’d rather be there and make sure you get home safe. And it’s not like I don’t have fun at those parties.” 

A small smile on your lips, you nodded and let his words assuage your guilt. “I’ll make coffee as a token of my gratitude.”

“How kind of you,” Jihoon teased, beaming. 

No matter how many times Jihoon reassured you, you still felt bad that he thought it his obligation to do those things for you.

Although you’d only grown closer at the beginning of your first year of university, now six months ago, you and Jihoon had known each other since you were thirteen, and he fourteen. You still remembered his braces, wide boba eyes and round cheeks from your teenage years - when you saw him again five years later, you couldn’t deny your surprise at his much… manlier appearance. Sharper jaw, broader shoulders, taller figure, deeper voice - it was hard to recognize the Jihoon you’d known and the Jihoon in front of you as the same person.

His parents’ job made their family move around a lot - your town had been their fifth home since Jihoon’s birth already. The year and a half they stayed went by far too quickly, and before you knew it, you already had to say goodbye. Jihoon and Junkyu had grown really close in that year, and since you were always in your older brother’s business at that time, you’d developed a liking for your brother’s best friend, too. You liked the way he’d ruffle your hair whenever he came over to your house, the way he remembered strawberry milk was your favorite, and the way he’d wave at you in the school hallways, effectively making you cooler than all of your friends for knowing someone who was in the year above. At the time, you hadn’t known if what you felt for him could be described as a crush - all you knew was that for the rest of high school, you missed him. 

When you found out that he had not only come back to South Korea to study, but that he was attending the university of your dreams, you couldn't have been more excited. But you chalked it up to the relief of knowing someone in an otherwise unfamiliar place.

Jihoon had been even more welcoming than you’d expected. He had come to get you at the airport with a big, colorful Welcome Y/N banner, helped you move into your dorm and treated you to a meal the night you arrived in town. Over the following weeks, he’d introduced you to his friends, showed you around campus, and kept inviting you out “so you would know where the good spots were.”

Thanks to him, settling in had been a much less stressful and emotionally exhausting process than you’d expected. But no matter how grateful you were, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was going to these lengths to welcome you. 

Somewhere in the town center, there was a square that was extremely popular among skaters for a reason beyond your understanding. But at almost any time of the day and night, you could find people practicing their skating there. You’d just left a bar nearby with Minjeong, Jihoon and his friends, and to an intoxicated you, skating, something you had never attempted before, seemed like the thing to try out right then and there. You ran up to the first skater you found and asked him if he could show you how to ride.

Minjeong had run after you, finding a skater of her own while Jihoon’s friends either watched or talked about something else amongst themselves. Of course, the inevitable happened, and as soon as the skater let you try skating on your own, you’d fallen on your hands and knees. In a flash, Jihoon had been by your side, frantically asking if you were okay and making you show him your palms. They were only grazed, and one of your knees was bleeding very faintly, but Jihoon acted like you’d just broken something. He got you to get on his back so he could carry you to the nearest pharmacy, leaving his friends and Minjeong to wonder what the hell was going on. You tried telling him you were okay and could walk on your own just fine, but he wouldn’t listen. 

He’d sat you on the curb in front of the all-night pharmacy and asked you to wait as he got disinfectant and bandages. You watched his face closely as he rubbed medical alcohol on your wounds. A crease had plagued his eyebrows ever since you fell, and he would not stop mumbling something about you needing to be more careful and you’re lucky you didn’t get hurt badly.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until one of your tears fell on Jihoon’s hand, hot against his skin, and he looked up at you with worry, any of his previous frustration with you wiped from his expression.

“Y/N? Why are you crying?” he’d asked, voice soft, as if trying not to scare you.

You sniffled. “Why are you so nice to me?”

His eyes softened and a small smile grew on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his smile, and the more you cried, the sadder you felt. Inexplicably, your tears just fell and fell and fell. Under the bright white lights of the pharmacy, in the cold of a particularly chilly September night, Jihoon wrapped an arm around you and let you cry on his shoulder. He didn’t ask any further questions, just waited for you to calm down as he rubbed a hand up and down your back and whispered in your ear that it was okay.

When you thought back on it now, you knew that it had just been the alcohol making you unreasonably emotional - you weren’t actually sad about Jihoon looking after you, if anything, it made you happy. But once you’d started crying, you couldn’t stop.

“I’m just looking out for you,” he’d said once your sniffling had somewhat lessened. You’d leaned back to look at him. 

“But why?” you’d whined.

Your frown had deepened as his smile had widened. “Because we’re friends.”

“Is that it?” 

“Well, Junkyu also asked me to look after you,” he admitted sheepishly. 

You gasped in affront. “He what?!”

“Y/N-”

“So he’s been forcing you to do all of this?” you asked, voice breaking at the end. Your anger had lasted two seconds - you’d gone back to being sad at the thought of Jihoon only being nice to you because your stupid big brother had asked him to.

“No, no, it’s not like that, listen to me-”

“I can’t believe the two of you! I’m not a child-”

“Nobody said you were-”

“So you don’t actually even care-”

“I do!” Jihoon had exclaimed, louder than you’d expected, and it shut you up. “I do,” he repeated, voice softer. His hands were still on your upper arms, and he leaned in closer. “You’re his little sister. Of course he was worried about you leaving home. He just asked me to make sure you don’t get into too much trouble,” he explained, lightly tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. 

He sighed, smiling as he watched you try to keep an upset expression on your face. He took the bandages out of the pack he’d just bought and stuck them with caution on your wounds. “But I wouldn’t be doing all of this if I didn’t care, Y/N.” When your eyes met again, you hadn’t known what to make of the look in his. “I missed you, you know.”

Just like that, the ducts behind your eyes filled up again, and large, hot tears streamed down your face as you rested your forehead against Jihoon’s shoulders again. He chuckled at your dramatics but placed a reassuring hand against your hair. “I missed you, too,” you replied between broken sobs.

He’d texted his friends to take Minjeong with them and go on without the two of you, then carried you back to his apartment, which was thankfully only a five-minute walk away. 

Ever since that night, you and Jihoon had been inseparable. He continued checking on you consistently, bringing you food and coffee without you even asking and, of course, getting you home safe from nights out. 

You were thankful to have a friend like him.

“Pancakes?!” your flatmate exclaimed as soon as she walked through the door, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, Minjeong,” you and Jihoon greeted in unison. 

She was wearing her clothes from last night and her hair was a mess, but she had a bright expression on her face (despite the faint mascara stains underneath her eyes). You narrowed your eyes at her but she made a beeline for the food, completely ignoring you.

“Hot,” she mumbled as she held a pancake between her fingers, but threw a piece in her mouth anyway. “You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him, Y/N,” she said around her food.

“Isn’t she?” Jihoon replied before you could say anything.

You rolled your eyes at the pair in front of you and poured a cup of coffee for Minjeong. She referred to Jihoon as your boyfriend so often that you didn’t bother to correct her anymore. “Not my boyfriend. And even so, he’s more like a bodyguard than anything.”

“Being a bodyguard is just one of the many duties of being a boyfriend,” Minjeong declared, easily ignoring you. “Don’t you agree, Jihoon?”

He nodded, a serious look on his face. “Absolutely. I take what I do very seriously.” When his eyes found yours, he shot you a wink. Your frown deepened. 

“Anyway, care to share why you’re coming home so late?”

A blush creeped on Minjeong’s cheeks. “Well, Yoshi’s place is quite a ways from here…” she murmured, looking down at her half-eaten pancake. 

“Called it!” you yelled, just as Jihoon let out a loud “no” of shock and defeat.

“Next takeaway is on you,” you told Jihoon with a proud smile. In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out at you.

Minjeong frowned at both of you. “You guys bet on this?” she asked, vexed. Jihoon exchanged a look, glanced back at her, and shrugged. “Not cool. I didn’t even know something would happen with him. How did you guess?”

You smiled. “You always go for the cute ones.”

She hummed in agreement, her expression almost a pained one. “He’s just the cutest little thing ever, I couldn’t help myself.” She took a sip of her coffee, cringing at the bitter taste before getting up to fetch sugar and milk.

You sighed at your friend. “You’re gonna break that poor boy’s heart.” You knew Minjeong wasn’t to blame for the boys that got attached to her when she made it clear she wasn’t looking for a relationship - but if it happened to Yoshi, you’d feel guilty. You’d met him in a tutorial for one of your Digital Media courses and he seemed like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’d invited you to do pres at his place, and you’d dragged Minjeong and Jihoon along, so they’d met through you. In a way, if Yoshi fell for Minjeong and got hurt, it’d be your fault.

“I told him I didn’t want anything serious,” she said, pouring as much milk as there was coffee in her mug.

“He doesn’t seem like the type to do casual stuff,” Jihoon chimed in as he placed the last pancake on top of the stack. But it was one pancake too many, and the whole stack fell over. Jihoon wasn’t rattled - he placed a few on his plate then rebuilt the stack.

Minjeong ate her last bite of pancake and got up from the stool. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“We? This is your problem, babe,” you said.

Minjeong smiled at you, eyes crinkling as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. You were sure there was some pancake left on her lips. “You’re such a good friend, Y/N,” she said, making you laugh. Of course you’d help Minjeong if she needed - but you were starting to feel bad for all the hearts she kept breaking. “I’m going back to bed,” she announced. Then, she put her hand next to her mouth as if telling you a secret, but spoke loud enough for Jihoon to hear anyway: “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, is all I’ll say.”

Jihoon choked on his food and you let out a groan of disgust, but you both burst into laughter anyway. “I want details later!” you called out.

“You won’t be disappointed,” she said between giggles as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 

Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming video call, Junkyu’s face taking up your screen. “Hey, ugly face,” you greeted, propping your phone up against the milk bottle.

“Hey, stink.”

���Hey, Kyu!” Jihoon called out and took a seat close next to you - you knew he was just trying to squeeze into frame, but the sudden proximity still made your breath catch in your throat for a second.

Your brother’s eyes narrowed. “What are the two of you doing together on a Sunday morning?”

You looked at Jihoon, then back at your screen. “Is there something wrong with Sunday mornings?”

“Not inherently, no…” your brother conceded. “But still.”

You rolled your eyes at him and his meaningless suspiciousness. “We just went to a party together last night and he crashed here afterwards.”

“She was so wasted I had to bring her home. And I made pancakes this morning.”

“Y/N, if you don’t marry this guy, I will,” Junkyu said with all the seriousness in the world, and Jihoon made a kissy face at him.

“What’s up with everyone today?” you sighed. “I’m going to shower. You two have fun.” You knew your brother probably didn’t have much to tell you anyway - he liked calling you for no other reason than to bother you. 

“Oh, we will,” Jihoon said with a suggestive tone, and you made a vomiting noise before disappearing into the bathroom. 

“When I told you to look after her, I just meant to make sure she doesn’t drink too much or get involved with weirdos. I didn’t mean to make her pancakes on Sunday mornings,” Junkyu teased, a knowing smile on his face. 

Jihoon looked down at his place, a small smile growing on his lips as well. “I know, but I like doing those things for her.”

Junkyu let out an odd noise, half out of disgust and half out of annoyance. “I can’t believe you. Just ask her out, already.”

“So you don’t like me at her place on a Sunday morning, but you want me to ask her out?”

Junkyu rolled his eyes (Jihoon thought this was a family trait, at this point). “I’m trying to help you out here, buddy. I know she’s my little sister, but you’re also my best friend,” he started, ignoring Jihoon’s aww, “and I don’t know how much longer I can stand you being in love with her but not making a move.” He paused to sigh. “I know you’re a good guy, so you have my approval, or whatever.”

Jihoon smiled somewhat sadly, picking at his food with his fork. “I appreciate it, Kyu, but I really don’t think she feels the same way.”

“How do you know that? Have you asked her?” Junkyu asked, not even trying to hide his impatience.

“No, but-”

“Do I need to do it for you? Do you want to hide behind my back while I tell my little sister, hey, my friend here has something he wants to tell you? Hey, my friend thinks you’re pretty, do you want to talk to him? Are you a big baby who can’t do anything, Park Jihoon?”

“No, I just-”

“You know, if this were a k-drama and you were the main lead, everybody would get Second Lead Syndrome. Me included. You suck.”

“Supportive as ever, Kyu,” Jihoon said, sighing.

“If you don’t ask her, you’re a bitch. I’m hanging up now,” Junkyu said before Jihoon could get another word in. He just shook his head, chuckling as he dug into his pancakes again.

The two of them had had this conversation about a thousand times, and they always came to the same conclusion: Junkyu thought Jihoon should confess his feelings to you, and Jihoon dismissed the idea, knowing he’d never have the guts to do it. To him, making jokes about being your boyfriend and relentlessly flirting with you was sign enough of his affection for you - you just needed to figure out that he wasn’t actually kidding at all. He was already doing half of the work for you, really. 

An hour later, the two of you were sitting on the fifth floor of the library, where nobody ever dared to venture because of its dark corners and maze-like rows of bookshelves. It creeped Jihoon out, but it was your favorite place to study, so on days he couldn’t convince you to go to a nicer spot, he sucked it up and followed you to the table you liked by a window that overlooked the park next to the campus. The window let some light in, but to get there, you had to go through dim hallways that looked like they hadn’t seen a human soul in years. Jihoon didn’t know how you’d found out about it in the first place. It felt like something a fourth-year would keep as a secret, not something a first-year would have discovered in her first months of attending uni.

As he observed your sleeping figure, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed. You’d gotten about twenty minutes of work done before resting your head atop your crossed arms, claiming you would just take a “power nap.” He couldn’t believe you’d emotionally manipulated him (pouted up at him and gave him puppy eyes - with that look on your face, Jihoon would agree to murdering someone for you) into going to this creepy part of the library only to sleep almost immediately after getting there. 

He bent down onto his arms, mirroring your position, and let himself have this moment. Even though he saw you all the time, it wasn’t often that he could shamelessly stare at you and get away with it.

He watched as your shoulders rose and fell to the consistent rhythm of your breathing, as the sunlight pouring in from the window made your eyelashes cast shadows against your cheeks. You looked so peaceful that any trace of his irritation towards you vanished. It wasn’t like he could ever really be mad at you.

Jihoon loved how little you had changed in the years you’d been apart. Of course, you’d grown into your features and didn’t quite look like the thirteen-year-old version of you he’d known, but still, you had the same face and same habits he’d fallen in love with in the first place. 

He still remembered the way his heart had swelled when he’d found your face amongst the crowd at the airport, how his whole body had buzzed with excitement at the idea of finally seeing you again after all these years. When you’d received your admission email from your university, the first thing Junkyu had told Jihoon was that he’d better look after you. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself, but it reassured him, knowing someone he trusted so much would be there to help you adjust to university life, since he couldn’t do it himself. 

Jihoon had taken this seriously. Junkyu hadn’t given him any sort of instructions - the picking you up at the airport, introducing you to his friends, making sure you were well-fed and well-caffeinated, that was all him. At first, he tried convincing himself that he was doing this in an old friend, big brother fashion - he knew how close you and Junkyu were, so he fancied himself a sort of Junkyu 2.0 for you to rely on. 

It had been when he saw your red, puffy eyes, trembling lips and tear-stained cheeks that he realized his old feelings had resurfaced. After all, don’t they say you never really forget your first love?

Truth be told, that whole night had been a dead giveaway. From the moment you met up at the bar to his little nurse moment in front of the pharmacy, his heart had not stopped racing. He kept checking on you, making sure you were having fun and handling your alcohol, and stuck by your side the whole time, like a bee to a flower. 

He remembered standing arms crossed over his chest and observing you with narrowed eyes as you tried out skating. He was telling himself he was just watching in case you got hurt, but he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach twisted with a hot, unpleasant emotion as the skater guided you, hands on your waist. He didn’t like that you held that stranger by his shoulders, relying on him and not Jihoon for support, or that you laughed together like you’d been friends for years. Jihoon was your long-time friend, not this random long-haired, baggy-shirted, vans-wearing loser skater that probably had a name like Mark or something.

When you’d fallen from that skateboard, his heart had dropped in his stomach. He’d been sick with worry that you’d gotten badly hurt, and even upon seeing your barely-grazed palms and knees, he hadn’t been reassured. 

Seeing you cry had made him panic like crazy. He tried his best to comfort you, but had no idea whether he was doing a good job. For days after that night, he’d replayed the conversation the two of you had under the lights of the pharmacy. 

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just looking out for you.”

“But why?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Is that it?” 

Jihoon hadn’t known whether you meant, is that the only reason, or, are we only friends? But he’d thought the second question was wishful thinking on his part. So he told you about the promise he’d made to Junkyu, and that had somehow made you even more upset. Even though he hadn’t said it outright, he’d thought he had made it clear that he wasn’t only doing this because Junkyu had told him to - he also wanted to be there for you. He did care, more than he wanted to admit. 

Over time, his feelings for you had grown far bigger than simple teenage nostalgia - he loved your present self impossibly more than fourteen-year-old Jihoon had loved thirteen-year-old you. He thought he made it obvious - he always made sure to compliment you, remembered your coffee order and favorite dishes from your favorite restaurants, rushed to your side whenever you needed him, and did everything he could think of to support you. Sure, he relentlessly teased you as well, but that was just Jihoon.

If you noticed him, you didn’t show it. He wasn’t sure whether you genuinely didn’t know he wanted you as more than a friend or were playing dumb, but he knew you saw him as something like a second older brother. But Jihoon had come to terms with that - he’d rather be in your life as a friend than not at all.

This was why he was grateful for moments like these, when he could just look at you without you knowing. 

After five minutes, Jihoon quietly got up and bravely made his way through the dark hallways and back outside to get you a drink - in case you woke up grumpy from your nap, he knew a matcha latte would appease you. He almost got lost on his way back, but when he found your table again, you were still sleeping. He couldn’t help himself - before rousing you, he snapped a quick picture of your sleeping face, making sure to get the drool pooling at the corner of your lips in frame. The photo went into his Y/N folder, full of pictures and videos he’d both secretly and not-so-secretly taken of you, which, no, wasn’t creepy at all, thank you very much.

When he pressed one drink to your cheek and the other to your forehead, you woke up with a gasp, then immediately winced at the pain in the side of your neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sure whether you’d want a hot one or an iced one, so I just got both.”

“Ooh, iced, please,” you said. “Thanks, Hoonie.” But before you could grab the drink, he snatched it away.

“No drinking until you get at least one thing done,” he said, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

You frowned. “But the ice will melt and it’ll taste all watery.”

Jihoon didn’t want to give in so easily. 

“Hm?” you hummed, tilting your head at him.

Jihoon gave in, handing you your drink with a tut. Seeing your excited grin and hearing your sigh of contentment after taking a sip made it worth it. 

About two (surprisingly productive) hours later, your stomach started demanding nourishment, and who were you to deny it? Your hangover was strong that day, and even the pancakes and coffee hadn’t completely rid your mouth of its sour taste. You needed something salty and greasy, so you pitched going to the fried chicken place a few blocks down to Jihoon, who agreed immediately.

On the way there, you tried to recollect some moments from the party yesterday, but quickly realized that not much was coming to mind. Pre-drinks at Yoshi’s were clear in your head, and so was walking to the other party - but the better part of your memories after that were fuzzy or non-existent. 

“Hoonie?” you suddenly asked.

“Hm?”

“Did I do anything embarrassing last night?”

Jihoon chuckled. “Not more than usual.”

You groaned and pushed his shoulder, making him laugh even more. “I mean, you just kinda danced like crazy and talked to absolutely anyone. At some point you were gone for like twenty-five minutes, and I found you in the bathroom taking selfies with girls I’d never seen before in my life.”

You pulled out your phone and checked your gallery - indeed, there were about fifty pictures of you and some random girls. “Who are they?” you asked, more to yourself than to Jihoon, in disbelief at how comfortable last-night-you looked with these strangers. “They seem nice enough, I guess.” You laughed with Jihoon before sighing. “Well, that’s not too bad. I’ve done worse things.”

Jihoon made a face as if to say, Yeah, I know, and you rolled your eyes at him. You returned your gaze to the path in front of you, but if you’d kept on looking at Jihoon, you’d have noticed the smirk growing on his lips as a joke formed in his head. After some time, with a shit-eating grin on his face, he broke the silence. “Oh, well, there was also that moment when you confessed your undying love for me, tears streaming down your face, begging on your knees, all the works. That was pretty embarrassing. But I get it.”

It was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help yourself from laughing as you slapped his shoulder. “You wish,” you said between giggles.

I do wish, he immediately thought, but kept it to himself. He laughed instead and could only hope his real thoughts weren’t so obvious. 

--

Two things happened in the fried chicken shop restaurant.

Well, three, if you counted their promotion on their chicken rice cake coleslaw menu, which was your favorite and which Jihoon always chided you for ordering (“Anyone who likes coleslaw is not human”), but in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t so important.

First, your mom called. Now, this wasn’t anything huge in itself, but it was Jihoon’s behavior that got to you.

You had gotten maybe five words before he snatched the phone from you and lifted it to his ear. “Hi, Mrs Kim!”

You heard a faint but enthusiastic “Hi, Jihoon!” on the other side of the line. They made small talk for a bit, and you couldn’t believe your mom could have forgotten about her only daughter so quickly. You’d dived back into your fried chicken, pretending you didn’t care about whatever it was they were talking so energetically about, until you heard your name on the other end.

Your and Jihoon’s eyes met. A mischievous smile spread across his lips and your gaze hardened. “Yes, well, you know her, she’s a bit of a nuisance, but I’m keeping her out of trouble and all that. I saved her from joining a cult the other day,” he said, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh dear!” you heard your mother exclaim.

“You didn’t save me from anything, I knew what that woman was up to.”

You’d been waiting for Jihoon outside of the movie theater when an older woman approached you. She seemed friendly enough, and you thought she was just a lonely grandma in need of a nice discussion - which it was at first, until it veered towards religion. Next thing you knew, she was telling you stories about the upcoming end of the world and how we had to beg for salvation. You didn’t believe any of it, but you found it captivating, so you stood there listening to her and egging her on until Jihoon showed up and forced you out of there. You thought it’d have been funny if he’d listened along, but knowing Jihoon, a small part of him might have actually believed her and started freaking out.

“I didn’t know you and my mom were so chummy,” you said when the phone call was over. She hadn’t even asked to talk to you again.

“Your mom’s awesome. I can’t believe such a lovely woman gave birth to two gremlins like you and Junkyu. Are you sure you’re not adopted?”

It had seemed like nothing at the time, but when you played the scene over again in your mind that night as you lay in bed, the fact that Jihoon got along with your family filled your heart with an unexpected warmth. It was almost like he was part of the family himself - not in a third child way, but more in a if you brought him home to your family, he’d fit right in, a thought that had made you panic as soon as it’d appeared in your mind. Because why were you thinking of bringing Jihoon home? Why did it make you so happy, knowing he’d be welcomed with open arms?

You shook your head against your pillow, hoping it’d make those thoughts vanish. You reassured yourself by telling yourself that you’d be just as happy bringing a friend like Minjeong home, and that you were sure she’d get along just fine with your brothers and parents. 

The other sign had been much more straightforward. You weren’t afraid to eat messily in front of Jihoon, so some honey barbecue sauce had spread over the corner of your lips as you wolfed down one of the wings. As soon as Jihoon started to lean in across the table, you knew you were in trouble.

Not only did he wipe the sauce off your lips with his thumb, but he licked it off of his finger, never breaking eye contact throughout the whole ordeal. Your whole body tensed and you swear you stopped breathing for a second. 

It only really lasted maybe five seconds, but felt like hours to you. You glared at him for a bit before diving back into your chicken, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. But Jihoon and his stupid, proud smirk probably knew what he’d done to you. As if that wasn’t enough already, he even had the audacity to whisper cute under his breath. Your eyes snapped back up to his face, but he just smiled and nodded towards your food, telling you to keep eating. 

Over the next week, the word cute refused to leave your mind. You kept replaying that scene over and over - the feeling of Jihoon’s thumb on your lips, the sight of his own lips around his thumb, his gaze through it all. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts of Jihoon plagued you - once, he’d guided you through a crowded club with a hand on your lower back and the way the warmth of his hand against you had made you feel prompted you to ignore him for the rest of the night. Another time, he’d kissed you on the forehead after dropping you off at your apartment and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for the following week. 

You took the small but meaningful events of that day as your second sign of your new odd feelings directed towards your best friend, feelings that you didn’t know how to name just yet.

--

Crazy rich Yoon Jaehyuk was having a pool party at his house, and basically everyone was invited. If you knew about the party, you could go - all Jaehyuk had to do was to tell maybe ten people and let them spread the word. As his partner for an English Linguistics class you had together that semester, you were one of those privileged people who’d known firsthand about the event and had made sure to tell everyone you knew to come. You shouldn’t have been so surprised to find what must’ve already been a hundred people on the front lawn, inside the house and around the pool when you showed up with Jihoon and the rest of your friends there.

Coincidentally, this was when the third sign occurred. Third time’s a charm, as they say, and the events of that night and those following cemented your growing hunch that something really was up.

Pre-drinks at yours and Minjeong’s place had already taken quite a toll on you. Jaehyuk lived at the edge of town, quite a ways from your flat, but the vodka cranberry you’d snuck in on the bus prevented you from sobering up during the long ride. When your group arrived at the party, both you and Minjeong were ready to dance. But before you could rush to wherever the dancefloor was, Jihoon caught you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes went from his fingers around your wrist to his smiling face, a surprised look on your own. 

“We’re gonna head directly to the pool. Don’t drink too much, okay?”

Your lips blossomed with a smile. Typical Jihoon. “Okay.”

The alcohol probably had something to do with it, but a surge of affection for your friend hit you and you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before taking Minjeong’s hand in yours and making a beeline in the direction of the music.

I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas was calling your name and you didn’t think to turn around to look at Jihoon, so you missed the way he watched your figure retreating into the mass of drunk students as he tried to commit the warmth of your lips against his cheek to memory.

You and Minjeong made your way to the center of the crowd, shrieking with drunken excitement when you found a group of girls from one of your shared classes there and exchanging very brief pleasantries before falling into the rhythm of one of your all-time favorite party songs. In your humble opinion, no one understood partying like The Black Eyed Peas did.

You only leave the dancefloor on one occasion, which is to take a round of vodka shots with your new best friends for the night - Jihoon had said not to drink too much, not not at all. One of the girls (Yunjin, you thought, but she showed up to class so seldom you weren’t sure) had a trick of pouring a lick of strawberry syrup before the alcohol, so that you wouldn’t be hit with the nail polish remover aftertaste of vodka. You were delighted to find it worked (almost) like magic.

It’s about an hour later when you and Minjeong reach the pool, not quite sober but more so than when you’d arrived at the party. For a pool party, there were definitely less people there than inside the house, maybe due to the fact that it was the end of February and most people didn’t want to risk getting hypothermia from the temperature difference between the heated pool and the cold outside. 

The relatively small number of people makes it easy to spot Jihoon, in nothing but his swimming trunks and a towel around his shoulders, sitting on a longchair a dozen or so meters away from you. Something about half-naked Jihoon, you’re not sure what, makes you want to walk over to him and do… you’re not sure what, but Minjeong frantically slapping your arm and whispering your name stops you from doing whatever it was you wanted to do. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Yoshi is right there,” she whisper-yelled. Indeed, Yoshi was in the pool, not far from where you stood, playing with his friends you recognized from pre-drinks at his place the other day. Minjeong’s face was redder than you’d ever seen it, and you recalled a conversation you’d had earlier that day.

“Will Yoshi be there?” Minjeong had asked, trying to sound innocent.

You’d looked at your flatmate with an incredulous look on your face. “Yes, he’ll be there, you slut. I thought you never went for a second time?”

She’d shrugged, an unusually shy smile playing on her lips as she looked down at her feet. “I don’t know, we’ll see.”

This was very unlike Minjeong - in your six months of knowing each other, it was the first time you ever saw her even consider getting with someone a second time. You didn’t know what sort of spell this Yoshi guy had cast on your friend, but it must’ve been very effective. 

“Go talk to him,” you simply said.

“What?! No way, I can’t- Oh my God, he’s looking at us,” she said, words rushing out of her mouth, “he’s looking right at us, isn’t he?”

You just laughed at your friend and waved at Yoshi who was already waddling towards your edge of the pool. “Hey, Yoshi!” you called excitedly. At the sound of your voice, Jihoon’s head snapped towards you. He wasted no time in yelling your name, motioning for you to come over, so you gestured back that you’d be there in a minute. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Yoshi called back with the same tone. “Hey, Minjeong,” he added, tone somewhat quiet, but the blush that grew on his cheeks told you you weren’t the one he was most happy to see. 

“Hey, Yoshi,” she said so quietly, you weren’t sure the boy could even hear her.

“Nice to see you guys here,” he said, talking to you but glancing nervously at Minjeong. 

“You too!” you replied, and before he could add anything, you placed a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about. See you later!”

You grinned innocently at Minjeong as she called your name, eyes wide in panic. She was a big girl, and Yoshi was clearly into her - she could handle herself. Jihoon eyed you amusedly as you made your way towards him.

“Are you setting them up?” he asked when you were within earshot of him.

“I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t at least try. I’ve never seen Minjeong blush over a guy, so this must be serious.”

A few of Jihoon’s friends were hanging out next to him, people that you knew from the many parties you attended together but that you rarely saw outside of drinking contexts. You waved at them before sitting on the deckchair next to Jihoon’s. He pivoted in his seat to face you, seemingly not minding that he’d just turned his back to his friends, then scooched his chair closer to yours so that your knees touched. You rested your palms next to your thighs and kept your gaze down. Something about Jihoon kept you from meeting his eyes, tonight. Maybe it was the half-nakedness.

Jihoon eyed you for a little bit, wondering what was making you so unusually quiet, before looking behind his shoulder to check whether Minjeong had been able to make progress on her own.

“Looks like it’s going well,” he assessed.

You followed his gaze to find Minjeong sitting at the edge of the pool and kicking her legs in the water while Yoshi stood next to her, water up to his belly button. You smiled as they giggled and splashed each other - it was going well, indeed. 

“Have you been in the pool yet?” you asked, shifting your gaze to the party-goers playing in the water. The echoes of people talking and water splashing were quite loud, but Jihoon was so close that you didn’t need to raise your voice too much. 

“No, I just took my shirt off for the hell of it.” 

You had meant to bring your eyes up to his face, you really had - but somewhere on the way, they stopped on his abs, and got stuck there. It was probably a full five seconds before you could look away from the well-defined muscles on his stomach and finally meet his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything - the smirk playing on his lips and the slight surprise in the raise of his brows were enough to tell you he had not missed your stare. 

You looked back to the pool, eyebrows slightly creased in shame at having been so obvious. Thankfully, you had brought a drink with you and took a swig of it there. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

You were trying to ignore the way Jihoon’s eyes burned into the side of your face, the way they followed your every move, but with each passing second, you felt more conscious of them. Not unlike one would try to escape a wasp, you thought that going into the pool might tear Jihoon’s eyes away from you at least for a little bit. It’s not that his gaze made you uncomfortable, like that of a random old man in the street would, but it definitely made you feel… things. Things that you didn’t necessarily want to dive into. 

The problem was that, to go into the pool, you’d need to get into your swimsuit. You’d thought ahead and had come already clad into your bikini underneath your clothes, a black, strapless tube dress that was easy to take off so you could jump into the pool at any time. But getting rid of that dress right in front of Jihoon and his watchful eyes was more nerve-wracking than you’d imagined. 

You downed the rest of your cup for some liquid courage and shot up from your seat, releasing a deep breath as you did so. You thought it was better to just get it over with than make it last any longer than it needed to. Jihoon’s eyes glinted with amusement as they followed your every move.

“Let’s go back in.” 

Your plan had been to lift your dress off of your body and head straight to the pool, but Jihoon’s gaze made you freeze in place after stripping. You couldn’t quite describe it as lustful, or as hungry, because there was a hint of surprise there that softened it. It was like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and loving it at the same time, if the slowly growing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a fire that made your knees turn to jelly and that rendered you close to breathless.

You let his curious eyes travel your body for a few seconds before clearing your throat. “Do you want a picture or something?” you asked ironically, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt.

His smirk only widened. “No need. The real thing is so much better.”

You tried not to cower under his shameless gaze, instead stood up straighter and stared right back at him. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

“I know,” he replied, but his eyes stayed trained on your body. You watched as they slowly made their way up your legs, took in your stomach and waist, then paused on your chest, which was quickly falling and rising with your shallow breathing. It was only when you scoffed and crossed your arms that he looked at your face.

Still that lopsided smirk on his lips, he stood up and languidly made his way towards you. He came so close that you had to slightly crane your neck to meet his gaze.

Your heart raced as he let a few seconds of silence stretch between the two of you, keeping his eyes locked in yours. “Nice eyes,” he murmured after a pause, the sudden depth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

After six months of seeing him almost every day, one would think Jihoon’s flirty personality would not have such an effect on you anymore. And most of the time, it didn’t - even back in the day, he was already fond of teasing you, so usually, him telling you how pretty you looked, patting your head or him tucking stray strands of hairs behind your ear went somewhat unnoticed by you. Or at least, it was easier not to freak out over “small” things like these.

But this was one of the times when you thought he was really pushing it, and you lost the ability to even eye-roll, which was your usual defense against his flirting attacks. You hated to admit, but you just couldn’t pretend it didn’t have an effect on you. You hated it because you knew he was just flirting as a joke, not because he was actually interested or anything of the sort, and you felt stupid that it still did something to you - although you sometimes doubted whether he really was doing it just for fun. You wanted to think he was acting the way he was on purpose, to get a reaction out of you. It’d make you feel less of a fool.

Before you’d even had time to understand the meaning behind his words, he’d already walked away from you and to the pool. When your senses had come back and you spun around, he was already inside the water. He looked like a cute wet puppy with his hair sticking out all around his head, especially when he shook it and let droplets of water fall off his hair and splash around him, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man that had essentially called your tits nice just moments prior.

The raging butterflies in your stomach were your third sign.

You must’ve stared long, because after a while, your eyes met again, and a smile reappeared on his face. An actual smile, this time, not a smirk or anything of the sort. As if nothing had just happened - as if it was absolutely natural for your best friend to practically devour you with his eyes like that. 

He waved you over and you noticed Minjeong and Yoshi were with him, seemingly waiting for you as well. When you reached the edge of the pool, someone entered the room with a platter of shots of God knows what, and you immediately reached out for one and downed it. Sambuca, you realized with relief as the sweet liquid burned its way down your throat. That way, if your body kept buzzing the way it had been around Jihoon, you could blame it on the alcohol and nothing else.

Minjeong and Yoshi were already back in their new little world, but Jihoon watched with an amused grin as you measured the temperature of the water with a foot, then, deeming it warm enough, made your way towards your friends. There, the water reached up to your shoulders, and the fact that it got up to just a little bit under Jihoon’s chest only marked your height difference further, which shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did.

“Didn’t I tell you not to drink too much before going into the water?” Jihoon asked, laughter clear in his voice.

“How about you let me drink as much as I want, and make sure I don’t drown?” you bit back, even though you knew it wasn’t much of a comeback. You had spoken in an irritated tone that, going by the way his smile softened, Jihoon found cute.

“Okay, I will,” he said, and the sweetness in his tone only served to further unnerve you.

If he noticed your annoyance, he didn’t say anything. 

You let yourself be convinced to play a game of chicken fight against Minjeong and Yoshi, which (along with that shot of Sambuca) made your competitive streak kick in and allowed you to, at least momentarily, forget about your irritation towards your friend. The reason behind that irritation was something you didn’t even want to think about.

Somehow, you endured the prickling on your skin as Jihoon kept your thighs tightly pressed around his shoulders with two big hands. Even when he squeezed the flesh there or craned his neck to look up at you with those big, round eyes of his, you managed to not let the way your stomach flipped get to your head. 

You weren’t sure how you won all three rounds of chicken fight, if it was thanks to Jihoon’s devotion to the gym, or yours to the free weekly Sunday morning pilates class your uni gym offers. It might’ve been down to the level of complicity you and Jihoon had built over the months that Yoshi and Minjeong hadn’t reached yet (if that can even be a factor in chicken fight success) - all you know, is that you do, and that even underwater, Jihoon’s hands burn as they snake their way around your waist, and press your body flush to his in a celebratory hug.

Some time later, you sit at the edge of the pool by yourself, having been deserted by the two lovebirds who not-so-sneakily snuck away under the pretext of getting some drinks, as well as by Jihoon who was called by some friends to join him back in the pool. You were at the level of tipsiness that made you want to self-introspectively sit on your own and people-watch for a little bit.

Until someone broke your peace.

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard a vaguely familiar voice say. Before you could respond, Kim Sunwoo was sitting next to you, a bit too close in your opinion for your level of acquaintance, clad in black swimming trunks that let the band of his Calvin Klein underwear peek through. 

He wasn’t half bad-looking, you decided in that instant.

“Oh, hi, Sunwoo,” you replied, smiling as you unquestioningly accepted the drink he offered you and thanked him for it. You peered at the orange liquid and decided it was the right color for alcohol before taking a sip. It being orange vodka didn’t come as much of a surprise. “I didn’t know you knew my name,” you admitted.

You recognized Sunwoo’s face from the Introduction to Literary Theory lecture you’d had last semester, and had learned his name when the lecture had to be online due to the professor falling ill, and he was one of the few brave students who had turned his camera on. With a face like his, you understood where the confidence came from.

Then, one night out on the town with Minjeong and other friends, you’d run into him at the counter of a bar, and had exchanged a few (flirty, if you recalled correctly) words, but not your names, hence the slight confusion.

He chuckled and you watched as two deep dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I did my research before coming here. Sadly, no one knew what kind of drink you liked, so I went for something basic and prayed.”

“This is perfect,” you said, laughing.

“To be perfectly honest,” he starts after a slight pause, “I’ve seen you around campus, and we even saw each other at a bar once, didn’t we?” he asks, and grins when you nod. “I felt stupid for never asking for your name, or your number. So when I saw you sitting here, I thought it must be fate that brought me to this party.”

You had barely registered his words, let alone formed any sort of response in your mind when Jihoon suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, placing a hand right next to your thigh on the pool edge. You hadn’t noticed him swimming your way.

“Hey, Sunwoo. I see you’ve met my girlfriend,” Jihoon blatantly lies as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The shock is apparent on Sunwoo’s face, and if it wasn’t for the sweet, convincing smile Jihoon was looking at you with, you might’ve let your surprise show more.

Sunwoo didn’t know Jihoon like you did, so you didn’t know whether he noticed the tightness in his grin, the challenge in his slightly raised eyebrows, or the general way he was holding himself that screamed Leave. But he must’ve noticed something, because it only took him a few seconds to start nodding slowly and rise from his seat.

For some reason, you stayed quiet, letting the word girlfriend and the way it had rolled off Jihoon’s tongue so easily repeat over and over again in your head. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he had said it so convincingly that you almost questioned whether you actually were Jihoon’s girlfriend. Before you could think any more about it, however, Sunwoo broke the increasingly tense silence.

“My bad, man, I didn’t know she was taken. I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he said with a smile, and that was that. 

You watched his retreating figure for a bit, eyebrows creased in confusion, before snapping your head towards Jihoon. Head tilted, he was fixing you with a questioning look, as if to ask, What are you up to?, when he was the one that had just acted strangely.

“What was that all about?” you asked.

Jihoon shrugged. “I chased him away for you. I’ve only heard bad stuff about that guy, like he sleeps with a new girl every weekend and doesn’t treat them right.”

You thought for a second, bottom lip slightly jutting out in concentration. “Well, couldn’t you have told me about his reputation then let me make the decision for myself?”

“I-” Jihoon started but stopped himself. He seemed to mull over your words for a bit, then sighed. “You’re right, I guess I could have, but you’ve been drinking, who knows if you would’ve made the right decision?”

This made you furrow your brows. “So what if I did? Getting drunk and going home with a rando is not unheard of, I would’ve been fine. Just maybe ashamed tomorrow morning.”

A flash of annoyance swept across Jihoon’s features, and your curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued. The two of you had had your fair share of aimless arguments over the months, but he’d never actually gotten cross with you. For some reason, you were suddenly itching to know what angry Jihoon was like.

“I wouldn’t be fine with it, though. I’d hate knowing that I let you go home with a prick like that.”

This wasn’t the first time Jihoon had fended off guys for you during a night out, but to his credit, they weren’t ever guys you wanted to talk to. And, well, admittedly, after learning what he was like, maybe you didn’t want to talk to Sunwoo either, but Jihoon’s protectiveness tonight was bothering you more than it ever had. 

You let a silence stretch between the two of you before speaking again. “You- you can’t just do that, you know,” you declared, not meeting his eyes.

“Do what?”

“Act like you just did. Pretending to be my boyfriend just to get a guy away from me.” Jihoon was just staring at you silently, so you felt compelled to add,  “You’re not actually my boyfriend, you know.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because his jaw locked and a coldness you had never seen before appeared in his eyes.

“Aren’t I basically?”

That caught you off guard. Where was this coming from? Jihoon had never entertained the idea of being your boyfriend, ever, so why was he suddenly acting like he was? Like he had always been?

And yet, you found yourself toying with the idea of dating Jihoon once more. The one question that pervaded your thoughts was, would things be so different? You’d never had a boyfriend, so you weren’t sure what they did, but you thought it wouldn’t be too far off from how Jihoon treated you now. Keep you safe, bring you food, buy you random keychains or pencils that reminded him of you, text you throughout the day, compliment you. The only difference would be…

Your eyes drifted down to his lips, and you swore you heard a shaky intake of breath coming from the man right in front of you.

The thought had barely crossed your mind that panic rose in your chest. You could not be thinking about kissing Jihoon. You couldn’t think about him being your boyfriend, either. You weren’t sure why, but your sudden heart palpitations at the mere idea told you that you just couldn’t.

“No, you’re not.” You had wanted to speak firmly, but you feared your voice had come out shakier than intended.

To your surprise, Jihoon scoffed. “So if I went off and started dating someone else, it wouldn’t bother you?” he asked in a disbelieving, almost mocking tone.

“No, it wouldn’t,” you answered, and as soon as the words were out, you knew they were a lie. You scrambled to your feet, suddenly wanting to be away from this conversation and the way it made you feel. “I’ll, um, I’ll head back inside.”

You ignored his call of your name and picked up your dress, hastily sliding it back on as you made your way back towards the living room where most of the action was. You quickly found that it was too loud, too hot, too packed in there. You headed back outside through another door that led to a part of the backyard far from the pool, where people sat in small groups around a big fire, either nursing a drink or passing round a joint, the smell of weed heavy in the air. At least it was quiet here.

You walked around some before spotting Jaehyuk, the man of the house himself, sitting on his lonesome on a swing bench in a dark corner of the garden, looking down despondently into a red solo cup. A couple hours into the party, this was the first time you saw him, you realized. It made you wonder how long he’d been sitting out here on his own.

“Hey, Jaehyuk,” you greeted, catching him by surprise. You took a seat next to him, sliding your hands underneath your thighs to keep them warm.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Nice that you came.” He mustered a smile for you before taking a swig from his cup and cringing at the taste of what must’ve been alcohol.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” you asked softly. You were used to cheery, smiley Jaehyuk, and even though you weren’t very close, you couldn’t help but be saddened by seeing your friend in such a state.

Jaehyuk sighed deeply. “The girl I planned this party for isn’t here.”

“The girl you… planned… this party for?” you echoed, and he nodded. “You mean this,” you said, gesturing to the house and backyard full to the brim with people, “is all for one girl?”

He sighed and nodded again, taking another sip from his cup. He tutted at the drink, or maybe at himself for drinking it when he knew how awful it tasted. “I wanted an excuse to see her outside of class.” He chuckled. “I realize now that I might have gone slightly overboard.”

“Just a bit,” you laughed along, watching as a group of stoners cheered at their friend who had found marshmallows and sticks God-knows-where. “It’s not even midnight yet, she might still be coming.”

Jaehyuk shrugged. “I’ve stopped hoping. I think I just need to get into the party and forget about it for tonight.”

You smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

“What about you, what made you escape out here? The music not to your liking?”

“Are you kidding? This is the Danish alternative pop playlist of my dreams,” you said, earning a chuckle from him. “No, I just…” You realized you didn’t even know how to talk about this. What was making you so upset?

“I got into a bit of a… squabble with my friend, if you will. He-”

“Oh, so it’s a he?” Jaehyuk cut in, a knowing smile on his face.

“No- I mean, yes, he is, but it’s not like that, it’s- it’s…”

“It’s?” he egged on.

“Ugh, fine, it might be like that,” you finally admitted, as much to Jaehyuk as to yourself. Your irritation made him laugh.

“It’s okay, it happens.”

“I didn’t think it would happen to me, though.”

“Why not?”

You sighed. “Just ‘cause… him and I, we’ve known each other for such a long time, it feels weird that things would start changing now.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“We met when we were thirteen and fourteen. Then he moved away and we only met again in September last semester.”

“Did you keep in touch?”

“Not so much. I just heard from him through my brother, they’re much closer.”

“So… what I’m hearing is, you’ve known each other a long time, but you’ve only really become friends since September, right?”

“Right,” you echoed dubitatively, wondering where Jaehyuk was going.

“Y/N, that’s just a bit over six months.”

“...So?”

“So, that’s not nearly as long as you make it out to be. It’s not like you’ve been best friends for years and things are suddenly changing. Six months… aren’t that short, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s a reasonable time for people to get closer as friends and then start developing feelings.”

“Feelings?” you immediately echoed, panic evident in your voice.

Jaehyuk let out something like a chuckle, looking at you like he was figuring out whether you were joking or not. “Is that not what this whole thing is about?”

You dropped your gaze down to your thighs, frowning. “Feelings just sound so serious…”

“They can be, but they don’t have to.” After a few seconds of silence, he noticed your upset expression and nudged your shoulder good-naturedly. “What’s worrying you so much?”

“It’s just confusing. I… It’s not like I’ve been totally indifferent towards him up ‘til now, but there’s something about him lately, especially tonight. It makes me actually wonder about… you know. Whether I want him as a friend or not.” You sighed. “And even if I am feeling… feelings, I don’t know how he sees me. I could still be a sort of little sister in his eyes, for all I know.”

“What makes you think that?”

A small smile grew on your lips as you blew air from your nose. “Junkyu - my older brother - tasked him with looking after me when he learned I was going to attend this university with him. So, while I go crazy trying to figure out why he acts the way he acts and why I feel the way I feel, he might just be keeping a promise to my brother.”

“But have you ever seen him as an older brother?”

“No,” you replied immediately. Your surety almost took you aback. “Jihoon is… Jihoon. He’s definitely not Junkyu.”

Jaehyuk smiled. “Then I don’t think he would see you as a little sister, either. The way you act with a sibling and with a friend, potentially someone you like, is very different. I don’t think there’d be room for question if he treated you as a younger sister, you’d just know. Most guys I know are very obvious when they like someone, me included, so if you’re thinking about this so much just because of the way he acts with you… well, you’re probably onto something.”

“You think?” 

“I do.” 

You and Jaehyuk stayed outside chatting for a few more minutes until you decided to go back inside for some warmth and a refill of your empty cups. In the kitchen, you ran into some of your classmates, so you joined in their animated discussion on which version of The Sims is better (Asahi offended everyone by saying the mobile app was the best) instead of going looking for Minjeong and Jihoon like you had intended to.

A few minutes later, as your phone buzzed with six consecutive texts from your roommate, you found out where both of them were. 

minjeong girl do u know how many bedrooms there are in this goddamn house??!!!! yoshi and i are spending the night here xxx ask jaehyuk if he has a room for u or get home w jihoon whos that girl he’s talkin to in the kitchen btw??? love yaa xxxxxoooo text me if u need anything!! i’ll be busy but i’ll keep my phone on ;)

Usually, you’d have rolled your eyes at the exorbitant amount of x’s and the cheesy winky face, but something else had got your attention. Suddenly stepping away mentally from the conversation (which had turned into an interrogation on Asahi’s suspected addiction to mobile games), you looked around the crowded kitchen until your eyes settled on your culprit.

From where you were, you only had a view of his side profile, just as Minjeong had said, Jihoon was talking to a girl, red solo cup in his hand and stupidly attractive smile on his lips. She was leaning against the wall while he stood in front of her, both looking as relaxed as if they had known each other for years. What was up with all that eye contact? What was making them smile so hard?

You hadn’t realized how hard you were staring until Jaehyuk’s voice broke through your thoughts, asking if you were okay. 

“You look like you want to kill someone,” Sumin joked, not knowing she was closer to the truth than she thought.

You tried to laugh it off, saying you were just deeply disturbed by Asahi’s predicament, but you couldn’t keep yourself from glancing back at Jihoon and the girl every thirty seconds. Another girl arrived, and Jihoon shifted to make room for her so that he was now directly facing you. Over the chatter of the kitchen and music booming from the speakers in the living room, you couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but it seemed like Girl #1 was introducing Jihoon to Girl #2, placing a palm on his bicep as she did so. You counted - that hand stayed there for four whole seconds, and when she finally took it off of him, your eyes drifted back to Jihoon’s face.

Jihoon, who was staring right at you. Jihoon, who raised his eyebrows at you as if to say, What about it? while yours were creased in - confusion, anger, you weren’t sure what, but an ugly feeling you weren’t accustomed to. Jihoon, who, you decided, had to know what he was doing, had to know how this was making you feel.

The only thing on your mind was getting out of here and taking Jihoon with you. Without thinking much, you fished your phone out of your sweater pocket, texted Jihoon Let’s go and said bye to your friends, lying that your friend had suddenly asked you to leave.

After a few minutes of waiting by yourself outside in the cold, crouching to maximize body warmth, you started to wonder if Jihoon had decided to not follow you. But when you felt a weight drop on your shoulders, you snapped your head up to find him smiling down at you. 

“Where did you get this?” you asked, meaning the blanket he had given you.

“I stole it from the living room.”

“Jihoon,” you scolded.

“You know the guy right? Just give it back to him this week,” he said, lowering himself down to your level. Similarly to your eye contact in the kitchen, you were still frowning while he kept on smiling. “Not like you to want to leave before one a.m.. Is something the matter?” he asked, and you debated whether he was faking his innocence or not.

For about ten seconds, you tried to stay quiet, not wanting to betray your feelings to him. You glared ahead of you, watching your breath form wisps in the late February night air. 

But then he called your name so softly, it undid all of your resolve. The sound of it made you sigh.

“Who was that you were talking to?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm? That was just Shuhua, she’s a Tawainese exchange student from one of my classes. Then she introduced me to her friend Yuqi.”

You nodded slowly, still not meeting Jihoon’s gaze. “I didn’t know there was a Taiwainese exchange student in one of your classes.”

“Y/N?” The unexpected seriousness with which he had called your name forced you to look at him.

“Hm.”

“I have something to tell you.” He must’ve noticed your sudden inability to speak, so he continued, lowering his head to be at eye-level with you. “There’s a Taiwainese exchange student in one of my classes.”

A smile broke through his serious facade and you had to look away to hide your own growing grin. “You’re stupid,” you said, but it only made Jihoon laugh.

“So is that what this is all about? A little bout of jealousy from my Y/N?”

You didn’t know what to focus on - the fact that he had finally put a name to what you were feeling or the face that he had called you his. It made you frown. “I wasn’t jealous,” you said, aware of how unbelievable you sounded.

“No? Then what made you want to leave so suddenly?”

“I- You-” you started, glaring at Jihoon when he snickered. “How come I can’t talk to guys but it’s okay for you to talk to girls?” 

“So you are jealous.”

“No, I just think you’re being unfair. I’m calling you out on your hypocrisy, Hoon. Double standards and all that.” 

Jihoon grinned. Had he known that he’d get such a reaction from you after talking to a friend that happened to be a girl, he’d have done it much earlier. And yet you had never had a problem with any of the girls in his usual friend group - if anything, the bunch of you often ganged up against him - so he wondered what was wrong with Shuhua in particular. Was it because you didn’t know her, and misunderstanding could arise?

His smile and eyes softened. No matter how adorable you looked to him right now, he wasn’t one to play games with feelings, his or yours. It was hard enough to make you realize how much he liked you (although he hoped that scene at the pool had made things more apparent), so he wasn’t going to make it even more confusing by letting you think he might like someone else.

Earlier, when he’d asked you if him dating someone else would bother you, and you’d answered no, he hadn’t formed any plan whatsoever to go off and talk to another girl right in front of you. Things just happened in his favor. He’d been talking with a whole group of people in the kitchen, but save for Jennifer, they’d all left for a game of spin the bottle (at their grown college age). Shuhua had a boyfriend back home and he had you, so they both had no interest for it. So it was just the two of them bonding over their love for Taylor Swift’s music when you appeared in the kitchen with Jaehyuk. 

Did he also feel a pang of jealousy seeing you with another guy, even though it was just Jaehyuk and he already knew of your friendship? Perhaps, but this wasn’t anything new with Jihoon. He didn’t think he’d be able to get rid of it until he had the surety that you were his, which had felt like a faraway goal until recently. Maybe it was due to his growing boldness or maybe you had managed to piece everything together yourself, but he was sure he’d felt a shift in your attitude towards him lately. There were times you would get shyer than usual, refusing to look him in the eyes; other times, like tonight, you’d defy him, as if trying to prove to both him and yourself you didn’t feel any sort of way towards him. But he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had drifted down to his lips and stayed there for a few seconds, hadn’t missed your panic when things seemed to get too real.

Just like you, although he didn’t know about that, he also found that there was something different about tonight, some tension between the two of you that was bound to explode. The fact that you were both in swimsuits had probably not helped. As soon as he’d seen you in your black tube dress, his imagination had started running wild. The way you casually had a gray zip sweatshirt of his in your room and donned it before leaving your place had made it harder to not just keep you in your apartment while the others went off to the party, and seeing you in your bikini was like the final boss he hadn’t been able to defeat. Keeping his eyes off of you was simply impossible. He wasn’t sure how he had resisted kissing you right then and there, showing everyone who the prettiest girl in the room - hell, at this party - belonged to.

(Jihoon had a bit of a possessive streak.)

Even now that you had somewhat made up, he still felt the changed air around you, like there was no going back from here. No pretending there were no unsaid feelings anymore - at least, that’s how he felt. If you needed the extra push to realize either his feelings, your own, or both, he didn’t mind initiating it. If anything, he had been waiting for it.

So he made sure to clear things up. “I didn’t want you to talk to Sunwoo because I knew he had bad intentions. Or at least selfish ones. Shuhua has a boyfriend, nothing was gonna happen there.”

“Oh, but if she didn’t, something would’ve?”

“No, Y/N. No,” Jihoon said firmly. 

“Why not? She’s pretty.” You knew you were being unreasonable at this point, arguing for the sake of arguing, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Jihoon sighed before placing a hand at the top of your head, brushing your hair gently. “I know someone who’s prettier.”

You turned your head slowly to look at him and were met with a sight you forever wanted to keep in your heart. Jihoon was looking down at you, eyes soft and filled with an emotion you wanted to describe as adoration, corners of his lips upturned into a sweet smile. You wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, feel the warmth of his skin under your palm and make sure he was real, but you were too stuck in his gaze to move.

“I actually know the prettiest girl in the world. I’m very lucky.”

You continued staring at each other for a few seconds or maybe a few hours, until he booped your nose and stood up. “Our Uber’s here, pretty girl.” 

You took his extended hand in yours and let him help you up, still in a daze as he opened the car door for you and rushed to the other side. You didn’t expect the relief you felt when he took your hand in his again as the Uber started driving. As the driver and him made minimal small talk, you watched out the window, but you couldn’t hear or see anything - you could only focus on Jihoon’s fingers intertwined with yours. Had hand-holding always felt so natural?

Even once you reached your apartment and you had to let go of it to get out of the car, the only thing you wanted was to have it again. 

You didn’t notice right away, as you punched in the code for the entrance to your apartment building, that Jihoon had stayed behind on the pavement. A light rain had started and his hair, all curled up from the pool, shone with small beads of water that the streetlights reflected on. 

“Aren’t you coming up?” you asked, turning around to face him and leaning against the door so it wouldn’t close.

“Not tonight,” he simply said, and you hesitated to ask him why. Whatever it was, he must have his reason, and you would see him again soon anyway, so you dropped it.

“Okay.” You nodded and hoped you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt. 

You thought that would be it, but then he took a step closer to you, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. The doorstep made you taller so that your eyes were on a parallel with his lips, on which they naturally fell. No matter how confusing tonight might have been, if what you thought was about to happen actually did happen, you knew there was not a cell in your body that would resist it.

Jihoon leaned in closer and closer, until he was right there, and your lips would touch any second - but he leaned to the right, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips instead. You stood with bated breath as he leaned back, wearing a proud smirk. “Good to know you wouldn’t push me away if I tried to kiss you,” he said, but on this rare occasion, you were speechless. 

His smirk softened to a smile as he ruffled your hair. “Good night, Y/N.”

It wasn’t until he had reached the corner, turning around and waving at you to go into your building before disappearing that you snapped out of it and made your way to your apartment. As soon as you’d shut your front door behind you, you realized just how disappointed you felt that Jihoon hadn’t come up like he usually did, how much you missed the reassurance of having him there, even if the two of you were a room apart. 

You also realized you didn’t want any walls to separate you anymore.

And there you had it - the signs were too obvious to ignore anymore. The heart flutterings, the thoughts of him invading your mind day and night, the jealousy. The constant longing to be with him.

You were in love with Park Jihoon.

--

You fell into a deep sleep for about four hours, before waking up with a start.

You were in love with Park Jihoon.

What had seemed like a comforting thought at the time now freaked you out to no end. Park Jihoon was your best friend, your brother’s best friend, someone you’d met so long ago he’d known you during your embarrassing bangs phase of 2015 (BangGate, as your friends from home inappropriately liked to call it).

You were great as friends, sure, but how would you fare if things went further than that? There was no way for you to know other than by trying it firsthand. Did you want to take that leap, and risk falling face first - or chance falling right into his arms?

For some reassurance, you got your laptop out and went to Google. At first, you intended to search some YouTube videos or blog posts about successful best-friends-turned-lovers stories, but something deep inside your brain compelled you to type Omegle in the search bar. Even if it was five a.m. for you, it’d be a reasonable time of the day for people with good relationship advice somewhere, right?

In your interests, you typed love, relationship and advice, hoping this would lead you to your savior. After skipping a few naked men who apparently were into love too, two young girls appeared on your screen who, going off of their accent, were British. They looked about eleven and were doing their nails, not paying attention to their screen. NewJeans was playing in the background.

They were perfect.

“Hey, girls!” you said, cringing at the sound of your own voice.

They raised their heads in unison, looking at you for a second before coming closer to the screen, all wide smiles. One of them had braces with pink elastics. “Hey, girl!”

You decided you had no time to lose, so you directly told them you needed advice with a boy you liked. They nodded vigorously. So you told them everything - from how you and Jihoon had met, to reconnecting in September, to the events of the past few months (including a detailed rundown of what happened at the pool, which they loved). They even insisted on seeing a picture and squealed when you showed them. Your Jihoon really was handsome.

“So? What do you think I should do?” you asked when you were done recounting everything.

“I have this thing I do whenever I fancy someone,” the girl on the right started, while the other one munched on some sour candy. You nodded for her to continue. “It really helps me know if I should keep fancying them or if they’re not worth it. It’s called a compibi- compa- combali- Rosie, what was it again?”

“A compatibility test,” Rosie said, tongue blue from her candy.

“Right, that. It works like magic. Just the other week I thought for sure Leo was the cutest boy in school but then I did the test thing and got forty percent with him and a few days later he was dating Sarah anyway.”

“Sarah is terrible,” Rosie chipped in.

“Oh no!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah, really bad,” the other girl said, nodding. “But then, I did it with Martin and got eighty-six percent and we’ve been dating for ten days now, we have,” she finished proudly.

“That’s amazing.” You didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the conviction with which the girl spoke, but you were hooked. “How do I do it?” you asked, although you’d probably done it when you were their age too.

“Oh, it’s easy. You just type the comp- Rosie?”

“Compatibility.”

“That, test on Google and click any one of them and type in your name then his. Any of them will do, I’m sure,” she shrugged, reaching for a candy. 

“Okay, let me do it right now. Gimme a sec.” After a few clicks, you’d reached an early 2010s-style website called lovecalculator.com, all pink and cupids shooting their arrows into the sky. You typed in your name, then Jihoon’s, then pressed a shaky finger to the Enter bar.

“Oh my gosh!” you squealed. “We got ninety-nine percent!”

“Oh my gosh!” the girls yelped back, clapping and hugging each other in celebration.

“Girl, you need to go tell him right now,” non-Rosie said firmly.

“Right now,” Rosie echoed.

You pouted. “I can’t, it’s five a.m. right now.”

“You better go later then! You two are meant to be! You’ll last at least like, a month or two.” 

“At least.”

After thanking and saying good-bye to your new best friends, you spent a good three minutes staring at the big 99% in bright pink on your screen. This randomly generated number made you so happy that you took a screenshot and printed it out on Minjeong’s printer in the living room, then put it on your fridge for you to admire. You used a magnet Jihoon had gifted you for Christmas - it was a four-cut photobooth picture of you two you’d taken at the Christmas market. You thought you’d only taken the paper version, but he’d made you go get food for the both of you while he bought the magnet version as well.

Your mind at ease, you started heading back to your room, but you ran into someone right as you walked out of the kitchen.

You looked him up and down. Yoshinori was standing in your living room half-naked, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“H-hey, Y/N,” he said, breaking the silence first. “I’m sorry, I thought you were sleeping…”

“I woke up early,” you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at his awkwardness. “What are you doing?”

“Just, um, just getting some water.”

“And you have to come to my apartment to do that?”

“No, I, um- Someone called the cops, so Jaehyuk kicked all of us out.”

“I thought you were in a room somewhere?”

“Yeah, but we went outside to see what was happening, and he saw us, so we had to leave.”

“Right… Well, glad you made it back home safe.” The strangeness of the situation suddenly hit you, and you realized you should probably let the half-naked man get his glass of water and leave. “I’ll go back to my room, then.”

“Oh, right, see you, Y/N. And sorry.”

“No worries!” you said, waving his apology off and scurried off to your bedroom. You plopped into your bed with a satisfied sigh, hugging a plushie Jihoon had won for you at an arcade close to your chest. He really was everywhere.

When you woke up next, sunlight was pouring from the window into your room. You checked your phone - nine a.m.. Not early enough to go to late sleeper Jihoon’s place, but definitely early enough to call your probably still sleeping brother. You had to tell someone about your newfound revelation, and Minjeong next door was either asleep or busy.

Your phone rang with an outgoing call for so long that you thought Junkyu might simply not pick up. “I’m in love with Jihoon,” you blurted out as soon as your brother’s face appeared on screen. 

He paused for a second, taking your words in, then yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”

“I’m in love with Jihoon,” you repeated, more insistently.

“I heard you the first time.”

“Well, what do you think?!” you asked, impatience rising. You couldn’t believe your brother could be sarcastic in an emergency like this.

Junkyu frowned. “Uh, congratulations?”

You tutted. “Kyu, I’m serious about this!”

“I know, I can tell,” he said, chuckling. “Are you going to tell him?”

“I think I have to. I think… I think he feels the same way about me, actually.”

Junkyu rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”

You paused. “Huh?”

“Everyone and their mom knows he’s in love with you, we were just all waiting for you to see it.”

“Huh?!” Junkyu shrugged. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Your brother sighed. “Some things in life, you have to figure out on your own, sis. Like taxes.” You just frowned at him. “Well, how did you figure it out?”

“Now that you say it, I guess I should’ve noticed it earlier. But really what happened is I saw him talking to a girl.”

“Put the man in jail!”

“Shut up. And then we talked for a bit, and he didn’t outright say it, but he heavily implied that he… liked me.”

Junkyu scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”

You ignored your brother. “But I don’t know if I should wait for a bit or go tell him now-”

“Y/N. Please, put that man out of his misery and go tell him now.”

“Don’t you think he’d get upset if I confessed first? You know Jihoon, he gets proud about random things like that.”

“Believe me, he won’t care. He’ll just be happy you like him back after all this time.”

You thought for a second, a small smile blooming on your lips. “Does he really like me that much?”

Junkyu sighed. “He’s been harping on about you since we were fourteen. He probably keeps a diary or a boyblog where he just writes about you. Just go get him, girl.”

Your smile grew wider and your heart started beating faster, excitement growing in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jihoon again. “Okay, I will.” You and your brother stared at each other for a second, eyes wide in anticipation, until something struck you.

“Wait… You don’t mind, do you? Your sister and best friend dating?”

“I l-word both of you, so no, I don’t mind. I trust you both enough to not hurt each other. But I’m still your brother, so if that prick does anything to hurt you, I’ll kick his ass, okay?”

“Kyu, he bench-presses your weight as a joke.”

He squinted his eyes at you. “I’ll metaphorically kick his ass, then.”

“And what if I hurt him?”

Junkyu thought for a second. “I’ll… give you the silent treatment for a few days.”

“How scary,” you laughed.

“Anyways, congratulations in advance and all that, but for my mental health please pretend you’re not a couple in front of me and remember that premarital sex is a sin.”

“Will do! Bye, Kyu!”

--

Right after hanging up with your brother, you texted Jihoon, asking if you could come over. You quickly got ready, doing affirmations in the mirror to calm yourself down, and as soon as your phone pinged with Jihoon’s answer (miss me already?), you were out the door. It was usually a thirteen-minute walk between your and Jihoon’s place, but with the power of love, it only took you eight.

You felt like your body had gone on autopilot - instead of practicing over and over what you would say to him in your head, imagining all the terrible ways it could go or pacing back and forth in front of his apartment building, you just walked, the loud thumping of your heart in your ears drowning everything else out. You’d just get there and get it over with. 

Even when you had to wait for seven seconds (you counted) for Jihoon to open the door after you’d rung the doorbell, you didn’t start panicking. 

“Hey, Y/N, I just ordered some-”

“I love you.”

“Breakfast… You what?”

“I love you, Hoonie,” you beamed. The relief of letting those words free made tears pool in the corner of your eyes.

Jihoon just stared at you, mouth agape and expression like he couldn’t believe what was hearing. Reaching for your hand, he brought you closer to him and shut the door behind you, eyes never once leaving yours. Then, he pulled you into a hug, one so tight you’d be worried about your blood circulation being cut off if it wasn’t Jihoon’s arms you were in. 

“Can you say it again, please?” he asked, nose buried in your hair and voice weak like you’d never heard it before.

You tightened your hold around his waist. “I love you,” you whispered.

“Again?”

“I love you,” you repeated, giggling.

He laughed too, more out of relief than anything. “I love you, too.”

He leaned back and raised his hands to gently cup your face in his palms. The both of you were smiling like idiots from ear to ear, gazing into each other’s eyes. Tears streamed down your cheek and he wiped them away with a thumb before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Took you long enough,” he said, making you laugh again.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t be. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“I’m happy for you guys and all, but could you like, not do this here?” a voice interrupted you. You looked behind Jihoon’s shoulder to find Hyunsuk, one of his roommates, on the living room sofa, watching Brooklyn 99. You hadn’t even noticed him. In his defense, you were declaring your love for each other right next to him in the entrance hallway. 

“Oh, right, sorry, Suk. Let’s go into my room,” he said, tugging at your hand. 

The both of you burst into giggles as soon as the door shut behind you. Jihoon wasted no time in pulling you into another hug, and it felt like your whole body sighed as you let his warmth engulf you. You cursed yourself for not letting yourself have this earlier. You gently rocked from side to side together, as if slow dancing to a melody only the two of you could hear.

“I guess a little jealousy goes a long way, huh?” Jihoon said after a minute of silence.

“I wasn’t jealous,” you huffed, leaning back so he could see your frown.

“What made you realize your undying love for me, then?”

“I just… I thought we’d be good together. I realized how compatible we are, if you will.”

“Our compatibility? Did you only notice it last night?”

You grinned. “Guess I did,” you answered, just to tease him. Jihoon did not need to know about your love calculator epiphany.

He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. You felt shy under his gaze, but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. “So does that mean we’re… boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, making you burst into laughter. “Don’t make fun of me! It’s important to make things clear,” he complained between giggles.

“Yes, let’s be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Awesome,” he replied, then pursed his lips as if debating to say what he wanted to say next. “So, now that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend…”

“Yes, Hoon?”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips that you mirrored.

“Please,” you whispered.

So he did.

When his lips touched yours, it was like a flower that had been waiting for the right moment finally bloomed inside your chest. It felt soft, and comforting, and just right. Like your lips had always meant to meet. 

At least, it started out that way. The fabric of Jihoon’s t-shirt bunched up in your hands while his cupped your face tenderly, your lips moving in a slow cadence against each other’s as if you had all the time in the world - and you did. You were both so filled to the brim with excitement that when you pulled away for a breather, you laughed together, foreheads resting against each other.

But then, you raised your hands and threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on it gently as you deepened the kiss. You probably hadn’t done it on purpose, simply wanting to feel more of Jihoon out of some basic instinct - but it undid something in him. 

He slid his hands down the sides of your neck and your shoulders until they reached your arms, pulling on them to have your body closer to his. His hands then continued their journey down to your waist, where they sneaked themselves under your t-shirt. They ran up and up until almost your entire back was exposed to the fresh air in his room, the contrast between that and the fire-hot warmth of Jihoon’s hands against your bare skin making you shiver.

He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit his mattress, unto which he helped you down gently, somehow not breaking the kiss as he did. One of his hands came to brush hair away from your face, while the other remained on your waist, after some time venturing onto your stomach, a sensitive spot for you that made you sigh into his mouth. He took that opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, yet another new sensation that made your head spin.

This was exceeding any expectations you had ever had for a first kiss. In fact, you had always thought first kisses were messy, awkward things, but this was nothing of the sort - your whole body was on edge, responding to every little movement on Jihoon’s part. Your fingers buzzed with a fizzy electricity that put your brain in a daze. You could do this forever, you thought. 

But forever was cut short by the sudden buzz of Jihoon’s phone. Jihoon started, practically leaping off of you and dramatically holding onto his chest when he realized it was just his phone that had interrupted you. The delivery person was calling him to announce their arrival. 

Jihoon pressed a kiss to your forehead, took a few steps, then came back to press another kiss, this time to your lips. Your stomach growled loudly while you waited for him, and you realized you still hadn’t eaten today. Add making out to that, you were ready to devour whatever it was Jihoon had ordered. 

The smell coming from the paper bag Jihoon held as he entered the room again made you close your eyes in bliss and take a deep whiff. “Johnny’s,” you whispered. “You know me so well.”

Johnny’s was your absolute favorite breakfast place in all of town. It had been opened a few years ago by a graduate of your university who had mastered the art of hangover food. From soups, to hash brown patties, to iced coffee, he knew exactly what it was that students needed after a night out. You could tell he had a lot of experience with that himself. He was kind of like a God amongst the student body of your university.

“Of course I do. I know your order from all of your favorite restaurants, and somehow you only realized yesterday that I was pathetically in love with you.”

You smiled sheepishly, taking a bite of your sausage and egg wrap. “How long are you going to hold this over my head?”

Jihoon grinned brightly. “Until I forget about it.”

“So never?”

“Precisely.”

He put on the next episode of your show, and for the next couple hours, the two of you stayed holed up in his room, cuddling once you were done with your food. Even though you had spent endless time watching shows or movies side by side, neither of you had ever dared initiate physical touch, no matter how much you’d wanted to. He’d been scared you’d pull away from him, and you’d been scared it’d be awkward. You hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for his proximity and warmth until you had it.

Save for his laptop screen, it’d been quiet for a while, and you thought you might fall asleep when Jihoon spoke. “I’m so glad I don’t need to pretend anymore,” he said as one episode finished and the next one started.

“Pretend what?”

“That I’m not desperately in love with you and that every single little thing you do doesn’t drive me insane.”

You giggled. “Does it?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a heavy sigh, almost a groan. There was a slight edge to it, a deeper meaning behind that short yes that had your stomach suddenly feeling very tight.

“Oh,” was all you could answer. You suddenly wondered what you might have done without thinking that had had an effect on Jihoon, just as he’d done to you many times before. You also wondered what sort of effect you may have had on him, what sort of thoughts he may have had about you that he had to keep to himself all this time.

Tentatively, you cocked your head up, only to find he was already looking down at you. The glint in his eyes made your body burn. Just as he started to lean in to reunite your lips, your phone buzzed with many texts in a row. Jihoon closed his eyes in frustration and sighed. “I want to throw both of our phones away,” he said, making you laugh.

minjeong hey pooks idk if ur out somewhere or still sleeping but im going to yoshis placeee he needs some stuff there so we’re going together and i’ll prob spend the night over… we’re like inseparable rn or wtv. anyways dont set the place on fire while i’m gone x

you ok thx for letting me know xx im w my boyfriend rn

Minjeong’s response didn’t even take three seconds to come through.

minjeong HUHHHH??? GIRL ???

you hehe

minjeong park jihoon is one lucky man

you how do u know its him?

minjeong literally who else would it be wait does that mean we’ll go on double dates…

you yeah ur right and pls no

minjeong DOUBLE DATES !! girls night tomorrow night i want all the deeeets have fun having the place all to urselves and rmb to use protection xx

you why is that where ur mind goes first ?? down for girls night tho can we watch teen beach movie

minjeong duhhh

“Teen Beach Movie?” Jihoon said, startling you. You hadn’t realized he’d been reading over your shoulders.

“It’s a good movie,” you mumbled, frowning.

“Right.” He said nothing for a few seconds, but he just couldn’t contain himself. The question was burning his tongue. “Aren’t you on the pill?”

Your head snapped towards him at the sudden question. “Uh, yeah, I am. Why?”

His eyes scanned your face as a smirk grew on his lips. “Then we don’t need to use protection, do we?”

You gulped. Your whole face felt hot - after having just shared your first kiss, you hadn’t expected him to mention sex so easily. Not that you weren’t interested in that, far from it, you were just… nervous.

You turned away from him, unable to sustain his gaze any longer. “I guess not,” you murmured. You had started taking the pill at the beginning of university, mainly to regulate your period and lessen your hormonal acne. The contraceptive part was just a bonus, one you had never imagined would come into handy like this. 

Jihoon’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, I need to tell Yoshi about this! He’s gonna freak. I hope he won’t be mad he learned it from Minjeong and not me first.”

“Yoshi?” you asked as you watched him reach for his phone on his nightstand.

“Yeah, we’ve been updating each other on our love lives. He’s really into Minjeong, by the way.”

“That’s… strangely wholesome, actually.” 

While he typed away, you tilted your head and took the time to appreciate your boyfriend’s features. The round eyes, heart-shaped lips, sharp nose and even sharper jawline. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.

Without thinking, you traced a finger along his jaw, liking the feel of it against your skin. When his eyes found yours, you dropped your hand and straightened your head, expression like you’d just been caught red-handed.

“Should we go back to your place? We can pick up food on the way.”

You smiled. “We just ate.”

“And I’m hungry again,” he said, mirroring your smile and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Or at least, he had intended it as a chaste kiss, but he found that he couldn’t quite get himself to pull away. “Let’s go,” he said, lips moving against yours as he spoke, but made no move to actually go.

“Let’s go,” you repeated, staying perfectly still. You’re not sure who was the one to cross the millimeters between your lips, but before you knew it, you and Jihoon’s lips were stuck to each other once more. This kiss had none of the gradual intensity of the previous one - right off the bat, the feeling of Jihoon’s lips against yours flooded all of your senses.

Your hands found purchase in his hair while his found their way to your waist once more. With surprising ease, he pulled you to him so that you were straddling his lap. For a second there, you were conscious about how heavy you might be on top of him, but it was all forgotten when he pressed his lips to yours again in a passionate kiss. In this new position, you could press your body close to his, so close you could almost feel his heart beat against yours. He also had easier access to your back than before, and he quickly took advantage of that. 

Just like before, he sneaked his hands underneath your t-shirt, making you arch your back against him. He slid a finger underneath your bra strap and pulled away for a second to ask if this was okay. You looked at him - his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen before and his face had lust written all over it. You were sure you looked similar.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you whispered before diving back into the kiss. One second apart felt like hours to you.

Your breath got shakier as he unclasped your bra. He didn’t do anything right away, settling on brushing his palm up and down your back while your heart raced with anticipation. You were so on edge that you couldn’t even kiss him anymore - you buried your face in his neck, gripping his hair so tightly you were probably hurting him. You didn’t care if he could feel how desperate you were. Then, finally, painfully slowly, one of his hands made its way to your front, and he gently grabbed your breast underneath your bra that was hanging from your shoulders. That was already a foreign sensation in itself, but when he took your nipple between two fingers and pulled on it ever-so-gently, the pleasure that overtook your body was so intense that it made you let out a loud gasp and you pulled away from Jihoon, startled as if you had been shocked by lightning. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, breathing heavily, a mix of worry and desire in his eyes. 

You nodded, holding onto his shoulders as you tried to make your breathing return to normal. “I’m fine, just… it’s all very new, is all. I’ve never done any of this before.”

Never had a boyfriend, never held hands romantically, never kissed - that was you. Not that you minded, though, since you’d never been interested in anyone and you were happy to do this with Jihoon, whom you trusted more than anyone else.

He smiled softly. “That’s okay. Does it at least feel good?” he asked, low voice making the hairs on your arms stand.

You whined, hiding your face in the dip of his shoulder again. “It does…” you admitted, voice muffled against his skin.

“You know, it’s my first time too,” he said after a while. 

You lifted your head to look at him. “Really?”

“Mh-hm. You’re my first girlfriend.” His eyes were full of affection as he gazed at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggled. “What’s funny?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“We’re each other’s firsts,” you explained. “I think that’s nice.”

Jihoon made his way to your lips, giving them a small peck. “That is nice. And I promise I’ll make you feel so good,” another peck, “you’ll want me to be your last as well.”

You looked at him for a bit, taking in his features that looked even more beautiful to you now that you’d realized your feelings for him, and thought of a life with him. It might have been slightly premature, but you already knew you liked the idea of that.

“Okay,” you said, as if what he had said had been an offer. It made him smile.

“Okay.” He kissed you, softly like you could break underneath his touch. “You’re so cute, you know that?” he asked against your lips, but didn’t leave you time to answer before kissing you again. “Okay, I think we should take a break,” he said after a few minutes. “We can go to your place. And then we’ll have more… privacy.”

You agreed that spending some time not pressed up against Jihoon might help you think straight again. The walk to your apartment was nice and quiet, your interlocked hands swinging back and forth between your two bodies. When you walked past the grocery store, you stopped in your tracks, looking at Jihoon with a smile which he mirrored immediately, even without knowing the reason behind it.

“Should we bake a cake to celebrate our first day together?”

“That’s very cheesy.” His grin widened as he took a step closer to you. “I love it.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and led you into the store.

The rest of that afternoon was spent baking and decorating the cake. It was a simple vanilla batter, but it took way longer than it should have, because Jihoon first insisted on having a flour fight (which took ages to clean), then on having two cakes and having a competition for whose would be prettier (yours, of course), but you loved every last second of it. It was like a scene out of a movie, and you could not have been more content. To really bring home the cheesiness of it all, you even recorded yourselves blowing out the number one candles of your respective cakes.

The evening came around, and, full of cake and Chinese takeout, you were holed up in bed together, watching the first movie that had popped up on your Netflix recommended. It was too easy, falling asleep in his arms. The combination of his comforting scent and the soft back rubs he was giving you lulled you to sleep like nothing else. 

When you woke up next, it was because of a sudden lack of warmth next to you. You lifted your head to find Jihoon opening your bedroom door and heading into the living room. He had just been going to get water, but you didn’t know that.

“Hoon?” you called out, raising yourself to a sitting position on your bed. He immediately turned around, walking back towards you and crouching next to your bed.

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you staying?” you asked, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. He looked at your hand before his gaze slowly made its way back up towards your face, a smirk growing on his pretty lips. 

“Do you want me to?” he asked back, gazing deep into your eyes. His voice had dropped to a low volume that made it hard to breathe. Initially, you’d just wanted him back by your side, but now all sorts of thoughts were running through your mind.

“Of course. I mean, we’re dating, right?” 

In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, you tried to chuckle, but all laughter died in your throat when your eyes locked with Jihoon’s. You weren’t scared of his intensity - you were scared of the pace at which your desire for him was growing. One inch closer, and you knew you’d be wrapped around his finger.

He leaned closer.

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, tilting his head innocently to the side. Mindlessly, you rubbed your thighs together, searching for some relief for your core that had started to throb of its own accord, but Jihoon was following your every movement and had noticed it. “Are you saying you want to consummate our relationship?” he asked again, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed his hands on your knee that wasn’t covered by the blanket.

You scoffed and looked away, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Not if you say it like that,” you mumbled.

Jihoon’s eyebrows perked up. “How should I say it, then?” he whispered. His hand slowly brushed along your sides until it reached your waist. Even over your layer of clothing, his touch burned. “You want me to make love to you?”

You kept your gaze fixed on something behind his shoulder, focusing on your breathing that was getting shakier and shakier. He drew the blanket away, leaving your thighs exposed to the chilly air for a second before he splayed his large palms on them, bringing you some warmth but intensifying the throbbing in your core. His hands inched closer and closer to where you most needed them, rubbing over your inner thighs but swerving right before he actually reached your core, setting them on your hip bones instead.

“Or do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

He took your chin between two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your eyes locked for a second before they dropped to his lips, watching the smirk that grew on them. “Guess it’s the latter.” 

As soon as your lips touched, you were overwhelmed by the immensity of your desire for him. Your whole body burned in want, in need. You had no idea what to do except hold on tightly to him and hope for the best, hope that he’d know how to guide you through this even if it was new for him as well. 

If you thought the kisses you’d shared earlier in the day had been intense, this one was on a whole other level. Your hands grabbed everywhere they could find and his gripped your waist firmly as your tongues danced with each other, resulting in a messy kiss that had your head spinning from lack of air in seconds. And yet, you couldn’t get enough. You kept pulling Jihoon impossibly closer by the hem of his t-shirt until he got frustrated from the layer of clothing between you two and simply took it off, discarding somewhere in your room. He gave you no time to admire his defined chest or abs, because he trapped your lips right away. 

He pushed you slowly onto the bed until he was hovering over you, alternating between kissing your lips and your neck, that you were sure would have a couple of purple marks for you to find the next day. Your skin burned wherever he touched it, and it was like a trail of fire had appeared as his hand made its way to your breasts once more, grabbing harshly at the soft flesh there. 

The whole time, he had been in some sort of a trance, drunk on your body, on your scent, on the way you were touching him - on the feeling that you finally wanted him as much as he’d wanted you all this time. But when he helped you out of the articles of clothing covering your upper body, and he had you half-naked underneath him, he had to take a double take and remember to take his time instead of just devouring you whole. For both his sake and yours.  

So he stopped for a bit, letting himself admire you. He noticed you shifting uncomfortably, so he leaned down again, pressing soft kisses along your cheeks and your jaw. “You really are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered before kissing you. He then continued his journey down your neck and collarbones until he reached your breast. “Really so beautiful.”

When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, your back arched against him and you let out a loud moan. He couldn’t keep himself from chuckling slightly - he found it adorable how sensitive you were everywhere he touched you. Your moans were like music to his ears.

Nothing had ever felt like this before. As he circled his tongue around your nipple - God knows where he had learned how to do this - it took everything you had to not just scream in pleasure. Even if Minjeong was out, you still had neighbors. Now that you couldn’t grab his t-shirt, you’d switched to his hair, and you were tugging at it so hard you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ripped a clump of it from his head.

Your panties were sticking to your core, all slick with your arousal, and you didn’t know how long you could go on anymore without attention down there.

As if he’d heard your thoughts, Jihoon started making his way down your body once more, trailing kisses all across your ribcage and stomach.

“I’m torn between taking this real slow and making it last as long as possible.” His lips found a sensitive spot on your lower stomach, right next to your hip bone, and he gently bit the skin there, licking it afterwards to offer you some relief. “Or just devouring you now that I finally have you.”

“Jihoon,” you sighed, desperation evident in your voice. “Please, just do something.”

“Like what?” he asked, clearly enjoying your lust-filled state of mind.

“Anything.”

He chuckled, and by the sound of it, you knew he didn’t have anything good in mind. He lowered himself some more until his mouth was positioned right in front of your pussy, and, with no warning, licked a long strip from your hole to your clit over your panties, humming at the taste of your arousal.

“Something like this?” he asked afterwards, but was only met with a whine. He kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs while you squirmed in his hold.

“Don’t tease me, please…” you begged, and your voice was so weak and genuine that he could only give in. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he obliged, the nickname rolling off of his tongue casually. He had no idea what it did to you. 

He helped you out of your underwear, finally getting you fully naked just for him. Jihoon was a man of his words, so not a second was lost before he dived right back into you, licking up the arousal spilling out of you before flicking his tongue at your clit. He held your hips tightly in both of his hands so you couldn’t squirm away from him and ate you out like a man starved. You were so sweet and warm against his tongue, and your taste was worlds more intoxicating than any alcohol he’d ever had. He’d do this forever if you let him.

He noticed quickly that attention to your clit was what got you moaning the loudest, so he alternated between circling his tongue around it and gently sucking at it, sometimes releasing it with a pop just for the hell of it. He slipped a finger easily inside of you, your wetness accommodating him immediately. He couldn’t wait to be inside you - his hard cock was throbbing in the confines of his underwear, but his only concern right now was to make you come undone for him. 

When he found that deep spot inside of you, the one that had you gasping in pleasure and moaning his name, he slid a second finger in, and just like that, you were done for. You came apart on his fingers and tongue, a complete moaning mess underneath him, and he lapped up the arousal leaking out of you like it was water. 

You’d already thought you were at the peak of pleasure when your orgasm came ripping through you like an avalanche, blindsiding you and making you see bright white stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and heaving you’d been doing. You had to take Jihoon’s face between your hands and gently pull him up yourself, otherwise it seemed like he was happy to keep going, but it was starting to overwhelm you.

Jihoon held you in his arms as you came down from your high. You let out the laughter bubbling in your throat as your breathing returned to normal - not because something was funny, but because you had just felt so ridiculously amazing that you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“How was it?” Jihoon asked, a lot shyer than you’d expected.

You lifted your head to look at him, a bright smile on your face even though you felt close to exhausted. “I have a hard time believing that was your first time giving head, Hoon.”

He chuckled. “Very first time, I promise you. I must just have some God-given skills.”

“I’m not even gonna fight you on that, because that was amazing,” you conceded, nuzzling yourself closer to him.

“I’m glad I could do that for you,” he said softly, burying his nose at the top of your head and inhaling there. The scent of your hair was oddly comforting for him.

Before you let yourself drift off to sleep, you started raking your fingernails across his chest and abs, smiling proudly to yourself when you heard him breathe shakily or felt his muscles clench under your touch. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could tell he was holding himself back. “I think,” you started, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, “That you deserve something in return.”

“You don’t-”

You knew Jihoon. He didn’t like it when you insisted on paying for coffee because he’d done it the last time, or when you baked him something because he’d stayed up all night with you studying for a test. He liked taking care of you, but you always had to almost force him to let you take care of him. You wanted your relationship to be fifty-fifty - you wanted to give him as much as he gave you. Even if he would let you, it wasn’t fair to just take and take.

So you insisted. Whatever he was about to say, it died on his tongue as soon as you placed your palm on his erection. It felt hot and hard under your hand, and saying you weren’t slightly intimidated would be a lie, but you wanted to do this. If you were able to give Jihoon half the pleasure he’d given you moments prior, you’d be satisfied. 

You rubbed your hand slowly up and down over his clothes. “Really, baby,” he managed to say between shaky breaths, “I didn’t do that to get something in return- Fuck,” he whispered as you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down his legs so he was only left in his underwear. Under the black fabric, his bulge looked huge, and you gulped at the idea of having it inside you.

“This feels good, right, Hoon?” you asked, steadily getting bolder and pressing slightly harder against his bulge as you continued rubbing it.

“It- it does, but-”

You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated it immediately, almost unconsciously, before moaning into the kiss. “So let me do this for you,” you whispered before ridding him of his underwear.

“Okay,” he said, sighing as you rubbed your hands from his knees along his thighs.

The groan he let out as you took him in your hand sent shivers straight down your spine. You could finally put to use all the knowledge Minjeong had passed on to you over the past few months. You let go of Jihoon’s cock to spit in your hand, the moisture helping you glide your loosely closed fist along his shaft with more ease. Your movements themselves were probably very clumsy, but Jihoon didn’t seem to mind - he moaned shamelessly, head fallen back against the pillows and exposed Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Seeing him like this and knowing it was all because of you drove you crazy, and soon, you became greedy for any sign of pleasure from him. You wanted to hear all of his moans, sighs, groans, watch his abs clench tightly and feel him grab your hair, which he did as soon as you flicked your tongue across his tip, already leaking with pre-cum. The endless string of curses and moans that flew from his mouth as you circled your tongue and shallowly bobbed your mouth around him filled you with satisfaction.

“Fuck, just like that, Y/N. You’re doing so fucking well, baby. Making me feel so good.” Those words had been the cherry on top.

Jihoon was of a more-than-decent size, and fitting all of him inside of your mouth was probably a task that would take a few tries to achieve - you still did your best to take as much of him as you could. You massaged his balls with one of your hands, using the other to hold the base of his shaft while you bobbed your head up and down. You did this with increasing speed then let him take control over your pace as his fingers threaded themselves in your hair, guiding your head around him. You didn’t even know if he was doing it on purpose or out of reflex, but you definitely did not mind handing him the reins.

“You’re gonna make me- Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” You hummed around his shaft, and that seemed to do him in - with a loud groan, he released his load, hot and sticky inside your mouth. Taken aback by the bitter taste, you lifted your head and only swallowed what you had caught. You took him in your hand again, jerking him off to help him ride out the rest of his high.

You watched him, transfixed by his heaving chest, eyes screwed shut, the beads of sweat pearling across his torso, and the red blush that had spread from his face down to his neck. You’d done this. You’d gotten Jihoon in such a state. You let him rest for a bit as you wiped your hands and his body with a tissue and had a sip of water.

You then pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking the time to admire his smiling face. When he opened his eyes and found yours, you suddenly felt so shy that you returned to your usual cuddling position, head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You were both smelly and sticky, but you couldn’t care less.

“You did so good, baby. You did such a good job,” he whispered, the praise going right to your heart.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That was amazing.” He sighed contentedly, then lowered his head to look at you. “You feeling sleepy?”

You shook your head no, a shy smile on your lips.

Jihoon smirked slightly. “You wanna keep going?”

You nodded.

He shifted himself so that his back rested against the headboard. “Come here,” he whispers, pulling you to his lap. You both winced in sensitivity at the feeling of your core right against his softening dick, but you didn’t want to pull apart either. If anything, the small stimulation created a pit in your lower stomach for the second time of the night.

You wrapped your arms lazily around his neck while he rested one of his hands on your hips and used the other one to rub your back. “How are you feeling?” he asked, eyes soft and full of affection.

You pressed a long, gentle kiss to his lips. “Good. Really good,” you said, making him chuckle.

“Good. Me too.”

You made out lazily, lips moving languidly against each other, neither of you in a rush to get anywhere. But after some time, you started to feel Jihoon hardening under you, and when you rocked your hips against him, coating his growing erection with arousal, he groaned. His hands traveled down to your ass, grabbing hard at the skin there as he helped you rock back and forth against him. You started out slowly at first, moaning every time your clit brushed against his tip, but it wasn’t long before you sped things up and lost yourself in pleasure once again. Your arms tightened their hold around his neck and, burying your face in his neck, you pressed your chest flush to his and muffled your moans against his skin, in both pleasure and frustration at having him right against you but not inside.

You suddenly lifted your head, and the look on your face made Jihoon instantly stop. “Is everything okay, baby?”

You nodded, but your worry was still evident in the crease of your brows. “Yeah, I just…” You pouted. “I’m scared it’ll hurt, Hoon.”

Jihoon caressed the side of your cheek with his palm, brushing some hair away from your face. “We don’t have to do this today-”

“No!” you exclaimed, taking the both of you aback. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just a little bit nervous.”

“Okay. That’s okay, baby.” One of his hands rubbed reassuring circles into your lower back. “We can go as slow as you want, okay? And we can stop whenever you want. Just let me know. Does that sound good?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, it does.”

Jihoon smiled and pressed his lips to yours. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

He helped you lay on your back against the mattress and hovered over you, propping himself up on one forearm. As he kissed you, he caressed one of your thighs, hand inching closer and closer to your core and making your blood rush with anticipation. Then he finally pressed two fingers to your folds, gathering up some of your arousal 

before sliding his digits inside of you. As you gasped out in pleasure, his lips trailed away from your lips and found a new home in your neck.

He scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching you out and getting you ready for him as he murmured words of “you’re doing so well” and “I’ll make you feel good,” as if he wasn’t already. When you seemed relaxed enough, he slid his fingers out of you, smiling at you mischievously while he sucked your arousal off of them. Then, taking his dick by the base, he rubbed his tip along your folds, making your body twitch and loud moans escape your mouth. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek and buried his face in your neck, trying to ground himself too as he slowly started pushing himself inside of you.

His dick was so much bigger than his fingers, and you gripped his hair tightly as you got used to the new sensation. Tears prickled in your eyes, the unexpected stretch making you frown in discomfort. It was a completely different pain to what you were used to, but the overwhelming pleasure mixed with it made it almost welcome. 

Jihoon was using all of his self-control to not pound you into tomorrow - your tight pussy was sucking him right in, and it was like his whole body sighed of relief when he bottomed out. He couldn’t believe he was inside you, feeling your walls clench around him and hearing your soft grunts as you got used to him. It was a scene right out of his wet dreams. 

“You okay?” he asked, voice muffled against your skin. His voice sounded strained and heavy. 

“I’m okay, Hoonie. I just need a minute.”

For that minute, as you breathed shallowly and relaxed around him, Jihoon pressed wet kisses wherever his lips could reach and twirled one of your nipples between two fingers to take your mind off of your pain. 

“Take your time. I know I’m big, baby,” he said. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“No, you’re just right, Hoon. It feels nice now.” 

Objectively, Jihoon knew that this was a good thing, and that you had meant in a good way - better for him to fit right inside rather than cause you pain, but a part of his ego had still been hurt by your refutal of his claim. But then you told him he could move, and he forgot all about it.

It took him another superhuman kind of effort to go slow, slowly rolling his hips against yours with a self-control he didn’t know he had. He scanned your face for any signs of discomfort, kissing your small frown in the hope it might go away. He watched as your jaw relaxed and the soft hums escaping your throat turned into moans, as the crease in your eyebrows softened and turned into one of pleasure rather than pain. He allowed his movements to speed up, noting with satisfaction the increasing volume of the noises you were making and the way your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

He lifted himself on his palms and hooked one of your legs around his hips, the new, deeper angle having you seeing stars. He asked if you were okay again, and when you not only nodded yes, but asked him to go faster, Jihoon had to admit he got a little bit carried away, both in his actions and his words. 

Jihoon had a big mouth - you knew it, everyone knew it. What you didn’t know was that he would keep that big mouth even balls-deep inside you.

Maintaining a fast pace, he lowered himself so that his lips tickled your ear as he spoke. “You’re doing so well, baby. Taking my cock like the good girl you are. Isn’t that right? You’re my good girl,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harsh rolls of his hips into yours. You couldn’t even get yourself to answer, that’s how far gone you were, his words going into your one ear and coming out the other. All you could think about was how good it all felt, from his tip repeatedly hitting that delicious spot inside of you to the feeling of his warm, sticky skin against yours. The room smelled of sweat and arousal and was filled with all sorts of noises - your heavy breathing, your moans, your grunts, the wet sound of Jihoon’s dick inside of you.

“Can’t even say anything, can you? Am I making you feel that good, baby?”

You moaned, thinking that should be enough of a yes for him, but you should’ve known better. 

“I think you should answer me when I ask you a question, Y/N,” he commanded, slowing his pace down to get you to listen to him.

“Y-yes, it feels so good, Hoon,” you replied, out-of-breath.

“Attagirl,” he whispered, smiling as he bit the lobe of your ear. 

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Jihoon halted in his motions, feeling one of your hot, wet tears on his palm. He was quick to wipe it away, searching for any pain in your features, but you only whined, asking him why he’d stopped. 

“Why are you crying, baby? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” he asked frantically. The worry in his voice only amplified your already overflowing love for him.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just… God, this is so embarrassing,” you all but sobbed against his skin, realizing that the pleasure had been so overwhelming, tears had started flowing from your eyes. 

“No, it’s not.”

You screwed your eyes shut for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I just- it feels so good, Hoon.”

A pause passed as he took a deep breath. “Is that it?”

“It is, I promise. Please, just… let’s keep going, Hoonie. I was so close,” you whined, and Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at your desperation. How was it that he still found you so adorable even in such a situation?

“Okay, baby. I’m relieved.” He wiped more of your tears that had fallen, but as soon as he moved inside of you again, taking a minute to return to his previous harsh pace, your tears resumed streaking down your cheeks. Jihoon kissed them, savoring their salty taste on his tongue.

It didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to become tight again, and with every deep thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart. All fucked out for me.”

“Mm. I’m so close, Hoon, gonna- fuck, gonna-”

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum and make a mess all over my cock?”

“Yes, Hoon, fuck-”

You gasped out loud as his hand found your clit again, using his thumb to rub quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cum for me, sweetheart, show me how good it feels.”

That did it for you. Your second orgasm of the night washed over you, making you release your loudest moan yet. You held on to Jihoon like you might fall apart if you didn’t. 

The quick clenching and unclenching of your walls around Jihoon’s dick as he fucked you throughout your high drove him crazy and, soon enough, he came undone himself, hot, white ropes of his cum filling you up. The squelch as he fucked his cum into you, the both of you moaning in overstimulation, was nothing short of pornographic. 

Jihoon all but collapsed on top of you, humming as you traced your fingernails up and down his back. You took a few minutes to collect yourselves, and you thought he might have fallen asleep, soft dick still inside you, when he lifted himself up with a sigh and slid out of you. You winced at the loss of his warmth. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and said he’d be back in a sec. 

When he entered your room again, he was carrying a towel, a tall glass of water, and leftovers from your takeout earlier. He cleaned you off and asked you how you felt, then you chatted as you ate your food. You could pass out at any moment, but it was nice, talking a little bit after the moment you shared instead of falling asleep straight away. 

He almost choked on his water when you asked him where he’d learned to talk so dirty - now that he was out of the moment, his cheeks reddened at the thought of everything he’d told you. “It just comes naturally,” he’d said shyly.

“Do you want anything?” he asked when you were done eating. 

You kissed him, smiling against his lips. “I’m all good, Hoon. You?”

He mirrored your smile. “All good, too.”

“I just wanna cuddle and sleep now. I’m spent.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” he whispered. He laid down on his back and you followed, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder while you rested your head on his chest. He drew you close to him and pulled the blankets over your intertwined bodies. “Is it creepy if I just stare at you for a little bit?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“But you’re so pretty,” Jihoon pouted.

“I’ll just sleep and pretend I don’t know anything about it.”

“Okay, just don’t panic if you feel a strange but very attractive presence looming over you.”

You snorted. “Noted. Night, Hoon.” You pressed a kiss to his neck and he hummed.

“Night, pretty. Sleep tight.”

--

When you woke up a few hours later, your room was bathing in the bright yellow glow of the early morning. You and Jihoon had shifted positions in the night and you’d ended up curled up on your side, back to him while he slept on his back, arms sprayed out next to him. It was the feeling of him shifting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist that had awoken you, a sudden warmth engulfing your body that made you feel like you might still be dreaming.

But no, it was all very real. From the man behind you, to the events of the previous night, to the dull but not unpleasant ache you felt between your legs. You sighed contentedly, taking his hand in yours and wrapping it tighter around yourself. 

Curious to see if he was awake, you turned around after a few minutes and faced him. He seemed pretty passed out until you pressed a soft kiss to his nose, then another to his cheek. His eyebrows creased for a second and his foot moved against yours. He didn’t open his eyes, but he pursed his lips for a kiss. He wasn’t content with just a peck, however, and you found yourself making out with him first thing in the morning, lips full of sleep and cotton-soft like your pillows. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this,” he says after a while, keeping his eyes closed, morning voice sending chills down your spine. “Waking up next to you.”

“You have?”

“I have. I don’t know if I should freak out over this and have a party or just be chill about it,” he said, smiling.

“We can have a party.”

“Really?” Jihoon asked, opening his eyes wide, excited like a kid who was just told they were going to Disneyland.

“Sure,” you giggled. “We can invite all of our friends and celebrate our one-week anniversary or something. Minjeong will probably want to plan it.”

He sighed happily. “I’m holding you to that. We’re celebrating.”

After lazing around in bed for a couple hours, going back and forth between chatting while cuddling and making out, your growling stomachs forced you out of your room and into the kitchen.

You and Jihoon noticed it at the same time. It was hard to miss, after all - a bright pink sheet of A4 paper with hearts and little Cupids everywhere right in the middle of the surface of your fridge, but more importantly, your name and Jihoon’s in big bubble letters with 99% in the middle. You wanted to rip it from the surface of your fridge, but the damage had been done - index pointed at the paper, Jihoon turned to you with an incredulous look on his face. You scratched the back of your neck and looked around the kitchen for a way to escape.

“Y/N, what’s this?” Jihoon asked, amusement laced in his voice.

You tried to find some sort of excuse, but to no avail. “This is just, um- you know, just a, uh, just-” The sound of Jihoon’s cackles interrupted you. You looked at him, unimpressed. “Don’t laugh at me. I was stressing out, okay? I needed something to reassure me.”

Jihoon was grinning wide as he pulled you into a hug, one arm around your waist and one hand on the back of your head. “You’re so adorable,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your hair. You wrapped your arms around his middle and nuzzled your nose against his neck, the comforting scent of his skin making you forget about your embarrassment. 

He leaned away slightly and took the paper off of the fridge, smiling down at it. “As cute as this is, you don’t need it. I’ll show you everyday that I’m the perfect man for you, okay?”

You mirrored his smile. “Okay.” Even when your lips found each other, you couldn’t stop smiling, giggles escaping from your lips into his. You only laughed harder when he started pressing small kisses all over your face, making sure to not miss a single spot. He pressed a final one to your forehead before resting his against it, both of you closing your eyes and relishing in each other’s presence. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. support your creators by reblogging and leaving feedback!

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[wingsofmud]

The Betrothed

The illustrious Princess Charming, daughter of Queen Vigilance and Darkstalker's betrothed.

Info + design w/o accessories below:

Princess Charming:

The aptly names Princess Charming is the youngest daughter of Queen Vigilance. Traditionally Nightwing Queens only have two daughters. One meant to inherit the throne and a backup in case anything happened to the first. Charming is unlikely to and uninterested in ever ruling. She wouldn't even be able to challenge Vigilance if she wanted to as law dictates her older sister must do so first (if she ever does). Sisters are also not permitted to challenge each other for the throne, only daughters and nieces. No, Charming would much rather go about her luxurious life in the palace, attending balls and sitting quietly in on council meetings. It's incredible what a dragon can learn when they just listen.

Charming is beloved by (almost) all in the Nightwing Queendom. She's often seen parading around during festivals and interacting with the commoners. While she's well-known for her quick wit, she's also known to lend an ear to those who need it. If you're lucky, she'll even perform a song. She's got a lovely voice. Additionally, she's well-versed in several languages, astronomy, music, art, historical and poetic texts, mathematics, geography, and all other things expected of a Nightwing princess. She's expected to take the role of an advisor once her elder sister takes the throne.

While Princess Charming isn't particularly close to her mother, she would do just about anything for her Queendom... even if that something is being betrothed to a hybrid animus. She's not thrilled, but it wasn't as if Vigilance ever asked for her opinion on the matter... or any matter. To put it bluntly, she doesn't care for Darkstalker and the feeling is very much mutual. They are only seen together at formal events.

The two of them are simply to wed and have at least one daughter between them. Nothing dictates that they must be faithful. As long as Darkstalker can perform his duties, Charming cares very little about how he spends his free time frolicking with lowborn dragonesses. Besides, it is not as if she doesn't occasionally enjoy the company of other ladies and gentledragons as well. However, if Vigilance ever caught wind of Darkstalker's little "escapades", well, she certainly won't vouch for him.

Charming has a massive wardrobe, so the outfit above is only one of many. Since only Queens are permitted to wear the image of a full moon, Princess charming wears a blue crescent on her tiara. Often the most notable part of her outfits are the long, glittering, translucent fabrics she adorns herself with. All of which are cool colored, of course.

.

Design w/o accesories

[youuuimeanmee]

Get ready with me to be surprised with

✨️Anya's Origin✨️

Hint: Romania

I had some free time, so I reread the latest chapter of Spy x Family, chapter 92.

Barbara said she and Sigmund were in Covenia for awhile. We know Westalis and Ostania are a reference for the West Germany and Eastern Germany, so I wondered if Covenia is based on a real place too. I was bored, y'see.

I quick-searched a country name that ended with -nia, but no luck.

I remembered a theory that Anya is more superior in Classical languange because she might've come from a place that uses that languange. A wild idea popped up to me that Covenia still uses (or references) that language. Since Sigmund has many classical books, it's not a stretch to assume he learned that language because he used to live in Covenia. Based on that assumption, I searched what country is still using Latin languange, what languange that references Latin.

... bingo.

Covenia and Romania. Who would've thought.

I searched where is Romania located because my geography sucks.

Oh it's in Europe, great! And it's close with Ukraine too, Russia...

Wait. I thought the story is based in the '60s, so, could they be related at that time?

Wow, so they ARE related.

And the timeline matched with SxF's world too.

When I clicked the "Romania" word, I stumbled on this.

.....

Could it be,

Anya originally comes from Covenia, which is a reference to Romanian People's Republic?

Does it mean the organization that experiment on Anya is based in Soviet?

And to think that Sigmund, a well-known neurology professor, used to rehabilitate wounded soldiers in Covenia... Is it really a rehabilitation though?

*cold sweat*

Anyways.

If Anya really comes from Covenia/Romania, the initial spelling of her name would make sense then, but I have zero idea about Romanian alphabet to confirm it.

Of course I searched it.

The Romanian alphabet is a variant of the Latin alphabet used for writing the Romanian language. It is a modification of the classical Latin alphabet and consists of 31 letters, five of which (Ă, Â, Î, Ș, and Ț) have been modified from their Latin originals for the phonetic requirements of the language

Oh shoot it's getting warmer.

Double check to make sure, I tried to look if [î] is really the replacement alphabet for [y].

OH SHIT.

K, Q, W and Y, not part of the native alphabet, were officially introduced in the Romanian alphabet in 1982.

Now it makes sense. No wonder Anya spelled her name like that.

It's because in the place where she came from, the alphabet Y wasn't used yet. And it's not supposed to be Ania either; it's Anîa. But I doubt a small child like her would understand the difference between i and î.

Summary:

Anya might've come from Covenia/Romania. It explains her initial name and her excellence in Classical language.

The organization that experimented on Anya might've come from the Soviet.

Sigmund might have some connections with Anya more than we thought; the theories were right on track. Because he studies neurology and lived in Covenia for some time, he is fluid in Classical languange and he knows how to make learning more fun.

I wanted to try searching what kind of brain-related research did Soviet do at that time, but then I might come up with lobotomy or some dark shit and I'm not prepared for that, so I'm gonna let the sleeping dogs lie until we get more informations from Endo.

Annd that's it. I'm very surprised with this finding. My quick 5-minutes search turned into 2-hours brainrot. And my hands are still cold. I'm not sure if it's intentional from Endo or it's just some happy coincidence, but at least I'm more aware with Covenia now.

Thank you for following me in this short journey! Byee 👋

[ash5monster01]

Hellouuuu can i request a maybe something a Neil x fem! reader, like they are already dating and let’s say Welton is co-ed and reader looooves Neil in his full uniform (blazer, V-cut sweater HIS GLASSES) and she is like waiting until it’s the end of the day so she can spend time with him and they have like a good makeout session 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ love yaaaaa

Addicted

Pairing: Neil Perry x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, heavy attraction, some teasing, quick makeout, nothing too much they're just cute

Summary: Somedays it's pure torture being around your boyfriend when he looks so good all day, so you’re quick to get him all to yourself as soon as you can.

word count: 1.2k

Masterlist

Classes had been dreadful all day. It wasn't just from the boring lessons or mountains of homework you had received, but it was the gorgeous brunette boy in all of your classes. There was just something about him today in his uniformed blazer and sweater, the glasses perched on his nose while he worked on his assignments. It had to be some form of torture to have to be near him all day while he looked like that and you couldn't do anything about it. Having a cute boyfriend in a co-ed school, one slip up away from removing girls, had to be one of the worst fates and yet one of the most thrilling.

Of course your luck of having anytime alone with him today also became slim. His friends, boys you loved, seemed to have some sort of attachment issues. You hadn’t walked a hall alone or studied without at least one of them. So when Charlie and Meeks join the two of you in the library that afternoon, your head is buzzing with annoyance, and any chance of finishing your homework is gone. Letting out another heavy sigh you set your pencil down and look at the boy beside you. 

“Neil? Would you mind helping me find a book quickly?” you ask sweetly, trying to save face in front of his friends but of course Charlie still smirks, insinuating there was no book involved. Little did he know there wasn’t but you were also used to ignoring your boyfriend's eccentric best friend. 

“Sure hun,” he smiles at you and you both lift from your seats and disappear into the stacks and out of sight of your friends. Neil follows innocently behind you, not even questioning how you weave through the rows, disappearing into a dark corner of the library that no one ever visits. It’s only when he spots the geographic section does he realize you were not looking for any old book. You hated Geography and also weren’t even taking it. 

“You sure it was a book you needed help with?” he asks, chuckling softly as he pulls the glasses from his nose and tucks them in his pocket. He had left his blazer at the table but still looked just as gorgeous in the uniform sweater in front of you. 

“Not exactly, I just wanted some alone time. Even if it was just for a minute,” you reason, gliding towards him slowly. Neil smiles at you before beckoning you closer, your uniform skirt swishing around your legs. Slowly his arms snaked around your waist and you did the same to his neck, enjoying his embrace and the way he invaded your senses. 

“Someone must miss me,” he grins at you, forehead moving to rest against your own and you relax into his arms. 

“Yes, sometimes even when we’re together I feel so far apart. This damn school a wedge when we could be like regular teenagers going for a drive and sneaking off too parties,” you had lived that lifestyle once, before Welton had become co-ed and allowed female admittance Your parents didn't waste a second pulling you from the public school you had attended your whole life and dropping you off here. The change had made your head spin but amongst all the chaos, at least you had found him. 

“I know, but we make it work and it won’t be much longer until we’re free from this place,” he reminds you and you smile at him, not only a handsome but a kind boyfriend. You had been so lucky already, even if this place felt like a prison sometimes. 

“Yeah, and it doesn’t help when someone looks so damn good all day,” you tell him, chin tipping closer to him. You’re desperate to kiss him, feel his body against your own, and be reminded that he is all yours. The cutest and nicest guy in school, all to yourself. 

“Oh yeah, you think so?” he asks in a teasing manner and you roll your eyes before pulling his lips against your own. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss back, a hand cradling your head as he draws you close. He tasted like mint and smelled like the pine trees outside. He was addictive in a way that could never let you get your fix. 

You don’t let him pull away, instead pushing him against the bookshelf and kissing him deeper. You had been anticipating this all day, desperate to feel and taste him when he looked this damn good. No other boy in this entire school could quite pull off the uniform like he did. It was almost ironic how much he fit the role here considering how badly the both of you wanted to escape. You at least enjoyed it while you could, him especially considering you didn’t have much longer until you had to return to studying. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters against your lips, drawing you in with a breath as both his hands reach to tangle in your hair. You can practically hear a teasing remark from Charlie already but you’d risk the frizzy hair if Neil kept kissing you like this. 

“I’d say that was the other way around,” you told him as his lips started along your jaw and he chuckled before sealing a kiss to your neck. A perfect moment meant just for the two of you and you would lock it up in your heart and cherish it forever. It didn’t matter that reality would slowly seep in and that another student or teacher could discover either of you at any moment. Right now the only thing that mattered was the two of you. 

“So what I’m hearing is I should wear my full uniform more often,” Neil says as he pulls away, tucking some of your hair over your shoulder. You grin despite the way you roll your eyes at him. 

“Maybe, you never know what could happen,” you tease as you blindly grab a book off the shelf behind him. He matches your smile as you nod your head back to the table where your friends wait. He follows you, love sick and a little desperate to kiss you some more. When you return both boys look at you with suspicious expressions. 

“The rise and fall of the Roman Empire?” Meeks questions and you finally look at the book in your hands, a heavy blush covering your cheeks as you give them all a sheepish look. 

“It’s for personal use,” you offer a lame excuse as you settle into your previously abandoned seat and Charlie snorts. 

“More like Neil is,” Charlie mutters and you shoot him a glare while all the boys snicker. Neil just gives you a reassuring smile before tugging your chair closer to him.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just jealous,” he tells you, kissing you swiftly before any teachers notice and it makes you smile that he can still love you openly, even in front of his friends. A little less embarrassed you finally turn back to Charlie with a smirk. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone someday, maybe.”

[jaythes1mp]

Are you considering any other alternative animals? Because I think that Gotham would be more suitable, for example, an opossum hybrid Reader, if it means a pure law-abiding civilian or a raccoon/fox, for a more morally gray, but peaceful one (just ife is hard), or a badger and it would be a villain or antihero. Can you imagine the degree of comicality if someone catches Bats or Wayne with a real live badger, which they squeeze like a puppy, and meanwhile he behaves completely wildly and tries to bite off their hand? (except for Damien/Robin, he obviously and notoriously loves all non-human animals with unconditional love). Or a situation where the raccoon Reader helps Alfred wash the dishes? Or how the possum in a human body leaves some of its instincts and pretends to be dead when attacked by some villain (ideally, probably the Joker), that is, it really convincingly pretends like a real animal and deceives others, at least until it considers the situation safe, and the rest of the hostages are not so lucky (because it's a Joker)? (I think this would be the first meeting) If you need birds/flying/non-mammalian animals, I think of a pigeon, a crow and… I do not know what large birds of prey should be found in the geography of Gotham (and I did not name hybrid bats, because it is too obvious and it has already been mentioned in a couple of posts on this topic). And I would be a rat, whoever kept them as pets knows that they are just mini dogs. Of course, wild rats or passerines can be more aggressive than decorative ones, but this is rather due to their forced female survival. I use a translator because I don't know English so well and I don't have much free time for thoughtful translation. And I also had an anonymous smiley face, but I forgot it —.^,—

Thank you for the ask, anon!

I definitely have thought through some other animals, and will for sure write some one-shots and hc in the future if anyone asks for them. 

I’m open to making any and all kinds of hybrid readers.

So far I have a robin reader, a cat reader, and a puppy reader. 

I've been staying on the more common pet side of things, but the thought of a possum, opossum, badger, or raccoon reader is definitely an interesting concept. This is due to their wild and untamable nature in contrast to domesticated pets.

However I know jack shit about those animals so it wouldn’t be as detailed. Though I’d for sure attempt it. 

Because the idea of The Bruce Wayne, the wealthy philanthropist and Gotham City's golden boy, standing up at some random podium, trying to give a speech, with a rabid, hissing and scratching badger in his hands would definitely cause a large, hilarious commotion. 

Or even if the family attended one of those many fancy galas that they fund with this enormous, ferocious looking, sharp-taloned eagle perched on one of their shoulders. 

Or perhaps the family are attending a high-brow dinner, with a rat seated in the centre, one of those miniature harnesses wrapped around its form. The entire restaurant's attention drawn to the billionaire family and the rodent they’ve brought with them in a way that borders on being alienated. Because rats are usually chased out of a restaurant, not brought in and treated like royalty. But who's to go against the Wayne family?

Maybe the reader is a villain or anti-hero that the Gotham vigilantes are tasked to capture, in which they end up becoming unhealthily attached to, to the point where they can't have the reader in their human form without the chance of being recognised. So instead the Waynes/vigilantes are always seen with a snake wrapped snugly around their necks, torsos, thighs, or arms. Or a ferret tied safely to their utility belts, folded comfortably in their pockets, or peeking out from inside their shirts. Perhaps the reader can shift into a some form of sea water creature, like a seahorse, jellyfish, or octopus. Where in that case they never even get the chance to ever leave the estate, unlike how they would as a reptile or mammal. Trapped in a large enclosure, in the middle of the manor, designed to accommodate your species perfectly, for life.

[physalian]

In Defense of Fanfiction (Or the perfect starting point for your original novel)

Fanfic gets a bad rap pretty much everywhere except Tumblr. It’s misunderstood and misrepresented by its average works, seen as juvenile and cringey, or a banal point of contention between a famous person or piece of media and its fans.

Outside of fanfic that writes about real people, especially smut fics of real people, I support the art wholeheartedly. Fictional characters are one thing, but personally, caricaturing a celebrity’s life for public consumption and writing or drawing them in compromising content without their consent is a little weird. You do you. Don’t like, don’t read, as they say.

Fanfic is the perfect starting point for a few reasons:

It places you in a creative box and forces you to work within those constraints

It does all the worldbuilding and character concepts for you

It lets you write way outside your comfort zone

When published and receiving feedback, it boosts your self-confidence

It's incredibly flexible

It’s practice. All practice is good practice

—

Behold your creative box

When I was little I had no idea the majority of fanfic was shipping fics. I always pictured and looked for canon-divergent alternate universes. Like, what if X happened in this episode instead of Y? What if this character never died?

Fanfic demands you work within someone else’s canon, whether it’s an OC in the canonical world, or the canonical characters in an AU. These are like little bowling bumpers saving you from the gutter, but also keeping you on a straight-ish path toward the pins.

The indecisiveness of too many choices can be too intimidating when you’re first starting out. You want to be a writer but you have no idea where to begin, what genre to pick, what characters you want to chronicle, what themes you want to explore.

Even if it sits on your computer never to see the light of day, you still got those creative juices flowing.

Pre-packaged worldbuilding

Sometimes all we want is to get to the good stuff. Maybe I want to write a story about elemental magicians but Last Airbender already exists and I just want to play in a pre-existing sandbox. So I write some OCs into that world and have a free-for-all.

I don’t have to come up with my own lore, world history, magic system rules and mechanics, politics, geography—any of it. I get to just focus on the characters.

Even if you’re writing an AU, like say a coffee shop AU, you don’t have to think about brand new characters, you can just think “What would M do?” and go from there. The trade-off is your readers will expect canonical characters to behave in-character, but I think it’s worth it.

Stretch beyond your comfort zone!

Do you hate writing action scenes? Go practice with a shonen anime fic. Need work on dialogue? Write some high-fantasy fic, or a courtroom drama. Practice a fistfight by watching fistfights and writing what you see, and do it over and over again until what you read makes you feel like you're watching what’s on screen.

But beyond that—practice genres that you aren’t super familiar with. If you’re new to fantasy, write fantasy fic. Or a mystery novel/show, thriller, comedy, satire, adventure, what have you. The nature of fanfic still gives you those “guardrails” and you can get some brutally honest feedback on how you’re doing.

And, of course, the realm of M-rated romance and smut fics. I haven’t because I think I would die of embarrassment if I tried and I never intend to include sex scenes in my works anyway, but if you do want to, use the internet as your test audience. Post it on a throwaway account if you’re nervous.

Build that self-confidence!

The fandoms I used to write for are super dead, so it’s insane how I still get email notifications that so-and-so liked my fic to this day. Comments are as elusive as ever, but random strangers on the internet telling me they liked my work is a magical reassurance that my writing isn’t actually awful.

Random strangers on the internet are, as we all know, beholden to no moral obligation to be kind to your little avatar face, or be kind to be polite. So a rando taking the time to like my work or even leave a positive comment can feel more honest than one of my friends telling me what they think I want to hear.

I tend to avoid the more present aspects of fandom like online communities, forums, social media, what have you, so I get a delayed and diluted aspect of any given fandom through completed works. Which means, in general, I get to avoid the worst and most toxic aspects of fandom and get to sift through positive feedback and critique.

Even if your fanfic isn’t written with stellar prose, it’s fanfic. We don’t expect Pulitzer-prize winning content. And if your work isn’t up to snuff, people are more likely to just ignore it than put you on blast (at least in my experience, I never got a bad comment or a “flame” in the old FFN days).

Fanfic doesn’t care about the rules of published literature

On the one hand, try not to practice bad habits, but with this point I mean that your layout, punctuation, formatting, paragraph styles, chapter length–all of it is beholden to no rules. I get as annoyed as the next reader with giant blocks of paragraphs, or the double-spacing between pages of single-sentence paragraphs, but if the story’s good enough I might ignore it.

There’s more than just straight narrative fics, though. People write “chat” fics, or long streams of text and group chat conversations. The scene breaks can come super rapidly–I’ve seen fics with a single sentence in between line breaks to show the passage of time. And without the polish of a traditionally published novel, I’ve never seen a purer distillation of author voice in any medium more than fanfic.

All practice is good practice

Even if it’s crack fiction, or a one-off one-shot, or something meant to be lighthearted and straightforward and free from complex worldbuilding and intricate plots. It really helps break writer’s block when you can shift gears and headspaces entirely and you can get relatively instant feedback to keep you motivated.

Beyond that, the “guardrails” help you stay consistent as far as character growth and personality if you struggle with designing rich characters.

The most recent fanfic I wrote was just a couple years ago, for a dead fandom I didn’t think would get any traffic whatsoever. It wasn’t my original works, but the feedback on that fic gave me the kick in the butt I needed to get back into writing more seriously.

—

In short, I support fanfic. I may not be proud of my earliest fics' prose now, but I am proud that they walked so I can now run.

[north-kieren]

Hello red I hope you are doing good! I wanted to ask about your Navariah dr.

Whats it like there?? Can you tell us story-times or anything of the sort? It sounds magical and I would like to know more :)

-🪆

Sorry this took me so long to answer, it's been a weird couple of days. Anyway! I also got this question here 👇🏽 I'll be answering both.

What is it like in Navariah?

In Navariah, the continent is one absolute humongous landmass and is the only one on the planet. There are islands all around the borders and coastlines, some even sort of far from the landmass that belong to Navariah.

In Navariah, there are different breeds of humankind. Lizardis, Deer folk, Eleven's and a race that had gone extinct - the coal.

In Navariah, schooling and education is free. There you're allowed to use your Magic (Soul) for whatever you desire, and can turn that into anything. The place is so large that the difference in geography depends on where exactly you are in Navariah, you can experience, learn, and work with different things.

In Navariah, I am one of the two military commanders/generals, I work under the royals. There are 26 military squads that work in specific areas to keep Navariah running as smoothly as possible.

In Navariah, there are things that I couldn't have ever dreamt about before shifting there. The way Magic, Culture, and the history of Navariah is embedded into everything you'll ever encounter there is unlike anything I've seen. It grew on me of course, hence why I stayed for so long LMAO.

How has being in a different reality other than my Cr for so long, changed me?

Over the years I spent in Navariah, I went to school. I graduated. I gained knowledge of stuff that is taboo here. I fought. I met people. I experienced life in a completely different light than ever before. The literal chemistry of my brain, has changed due to my time spent in Navariah.

See it this way, imagine you spend your entire life in one country with specific things that were practically drilled into your mind since birth. You understand life on earth, in that country surrounded by that land and it's people/culture from a first person view, you know nothing else as personally as you know your home. Then, all of the sudden you make the split decision to drop everything. I mean everything, and leave to another country across the world where things are like white to black in comparison to your old home. You're forced to learn the basics of that land, you're forced to start from scratch as everyone else did there. You grow over time, you begin to understand and SEE things differently than you did before - you gain a specific perspective. That, is exactly what happened when I shifted to Navariah. It was bound to happen you guys, almost a whole decade? Of course I'd be different than before I shifted.

I find myself genuinely thinking about Navariah every single day since I shifted back. It's in everything I do, as if I had just gotten back from that (at first) foreign country and had HELLUVA time and still remember everything like it was a suupperrr long but very enjoyable and productive vacation.

Thank you all for reading this yap. Happy Shifting!

[28ms28]

MY Rating of F1 drivers based on their personality(more sway) and their track presence and racing

1. Charles Leclerc

(Track Menace who is also Pookie Bear) (unintentionally funny) (just an inchident) (canonically listens to sad songs after bad races) (piano man was at some point higher in the iTunes chart than at the actual championship standings) (clueless cringefail loser) (Ice-cream man) (14 year old Max Verstappen's nightmare) (best qualifier on the grid imo) (idk something about someone who is on course for achieving greatness and will not stop until he achieves it no matter the cost, something about so much sacrifices for something he got soo close to achieving something that did not work out in the end something about how he devotes himself to Ferrari like no one else could before him something about how fate chose him to be in that seat something about how he made it look easy something about how it looked like the way was paved for him something red red red idk something about web weaving) (dogdad) (we love Leo) (went to Lewis Hamilton school of naming his dog after his rival) (oh and dreams about community services with said rival) (very strong mental health and even bigger therapy bills) (did i mention he's il predestinato of the tifosi) (biggest Ferrari fan) (only one who knows how to race max verstappen) (he was an ankle biting child see any photos of his childhood as proof) (everybody is maxplaining victim he's a maxplaining enjoyer) (suffers from middle child syndrome) (Seb's Ferrari child) (committed parricide on Sebastian Vettel in 2019 and 2020)

2. Max Verstappen

(pookiest pookie to ever pookie, track lion, big brother, catdad, certified victim ,about to be 4 time world champ, deserves so much more love, so so so incredibly talented, he's just a shy boy your honour ,free my man he did all of it but yeah vibes, because I'm dutch, fifa legend(just online), Danny kvyat has nightmares about him, geography nerd, has zero skills in any other physical sport, is planning to become a sim racer, tu tu tu du max verstappen (fun lore about Max did you know this guy was ranked 21st in the world in ultimate fifa in 2018(or was it 2016?? Doesn't matter) like can you imagine being that insane like bro you are a f1 driver in a top team like pls ??) (community service enjoyer) (certified yapper) (is terrified of fuel stations(jos verstappen when I catch you) ) (#1 lecfosi) (cringefail loser and he knows it) (teammate destroyer) (has read every rule in the rulebook and knows how to break every rule in the rulebook legally ofc all legally) (Seb's redbull child) (on his way to break every single one of Seb's record just to spite the old man)

(And is friends with an old Austrian man somehow)

3. Oscar Piastri

(Pookie bear, Mark Webbers child that has Sebastian Vettel's evil aura (Mark you will never know peace), koala, polite cat, eldest sibling energy, Android lover, Carlos Sainz's nightmare gremlin, loves cricket(cannot play well bless his heart), #1 lestappen shipper(I respect that) is also somehow the eldest of the lestappen children(his granddads are Webbanso) ) ( Him and Fernando have plotted the downfall of alpine) (I have a feeling he hates Zak brown deep down which I agree with) (grill the grid champ(like I said aura of Seb Vettel))

4. George Russell

(British individual(derogatory), king of radio messages (oh crikey), has an evil aura which is probably why he gets along with Nando, makes amazing powerpoints(facts!!), head of the gdpa and he takes it V.E.R.Y seriously probably the admin to the f1 driver group chat, part-time driver part-time strategist, he's a better driver than people give him credit for unpopular opinion but I think he can be a wdc or least a close wdc contender if given the right car I think if he was in lando's car in 2024 he probably would have taken the fight to max idk about winning but he's for sure no easy breeze, f3 and f2 wdc too, very memefiable or wotever the word is) ( T pose)(t.a.l.l.)(one sweaty boi)

5. Carlos Sainz

(Spanish chilli, smooth operator, dog lover, says bye to his racing career after 2024( no wait let me tell you something let me finish let m- *shot*), certified zoning out( Carlos has been called to the stewards), Lewis Hamilton hater prolly, certified Fred vassuer hater, poor guy really he leaves whenever a team is getting good like come on, has had very good teammates and has been friends with them, in 2025 will become the third person in history to have raced for Ferrari, McLaren and Williams, I feel like he lacks a bit of aggressiveness in his racing like he operates smoothly and intelligently sure but yk you should have a bite yk )(whenever he finds this said bite and aggressiveness it's usually against his teammate I'm observing you Carlos I'm noticing)( loves Lando Norris, golf master but humble about it, Maria Karey, one of the mature drivers on the grid, excellent at all sports, James aeiou has a crush on him, Lana del Ray coded, him and max were torro rosso nepo babies).

6. Lewis Hamilton

(7-time world champion, goat behaviour, was friends with P Diddy, rich cool wine aunt, #blessed, fashionista, Hammertime, Fernando Alonso's nightmare gremlin, don't ever mention 2016 in front of him, is haunted by Nico Rosberg, is neighbours with Nico Rosberg, will avoid Greece for the rest of his life, had a very public divorce, thus vegan, Silverstone 2008 you will always be famous, this Barbie is an f1 driver, still we rise guys, Toto Wolff and David Croft will sacrifice their bloodline for him, certified Micheal Massi hater, certified Bottas lover, we love him and Seb being the activists on the grid, this is getting manipulated man, did not survive Abu Dhabi 2021, did not survive Abu Dhabi 2016, has had caps thrown at him, Left family for Italian mafia, uncle I beg you please get your qualifying form back pls pls, is embarrassed by those toxic #teamlh and you cannot convince me otherwise, has let 2 baddies named Nico slip from him, ISS THAT GLOCK???, Bono my tyres are gone)

7. Lando Norris

(twitch streamer first f1 driver second, McLaren boy, hates papaya rules, has been multi21nd, mental health has been made very public by his own goddamn team, party-boy and DJ, fakes knowing how to play COD and Fortnite, very consistent racing good for him, terrified of first laps and poles, best friends with last laps and fastest laps(let's go Lando), shit at golf and geography but it's okay he makes up for it by being funny, probably misses being Carlos's teammate, but like Carlos lacks a bit of aggressiveness that is required, McLaren PR's nightmare gremlin, opposite of polite cat, has somehow managed to anger every fanbase and his car is the sole reason for the unification of RedBull, Ferrari and Mercedes, has been dealing with the wrath of Australia since 2021, at the end of the day just a curly haired guy ).

8. Fernando Alonso

(Spanish devil , Disney villain ahh character, 2005 and 2006 world champ, is looking for his 33rd win, Michael Schumacher's nightmare gremlin, grumpy old man first f1 driver second, lance lover(rare), Lawrence stroll's sugar baby, fast, prime Alonso I am scared of you, goat behaviour, holds a special grudge against McLaren and Lewis Hamilton(Alonso is sick of his ass), no more radio for the rest of the race, believes in karma, has dated Taylor swift apparently but is in love with Mark Webber( Jenson button is also somewhere in there), is known as El padre and has an el plan(everyone should be afraid), racecraft out of this world, 2005 Suzuka you will always be famous, all de time you have to leave da space, Alonso radio my love, aggressive but good racing the likes of which I have never seen and probably never will, what do mean by "I knew he'd brake earlier because he has 2 kids and a wife at home" like who says that what what??, worse career decisions than Ferrari strategies, bad luck so much bad luck, so chaotic so much chaos, has adopted Oscar and has plotted the downfall of alpine with him, Flavio haunts him, do not bring up Singapore 2008 in front of him especially not if Felipe Massa is present there, has driven the 2014 Ferrari and has not recovered from it, has outlasted Renault in formula one (wild), give Fernando Alonso 5 more points and he would be a 5 time wdc (even more wild), bye bye I'm still the bad guy)

9. Alex Albon

(alabonoo) ( bff with George Russell) ( is bullied by George Russell) (golf wag first f1 driver second) ( James aeiou has a favourite and it's Alex Albon) ( Alex really said I'm Thai first and a colonizer second and good for you Alex) (2020 Alex and 2022 onwards Alex are different people okay?) ( he's a consistent racer much like Lando but he makes mistakes more often, under pressure working is not his forte sorry pals but it had to be said) ( he's a really nice dude tho and really funny as well ) ( dude has a Chipotle member card as one of his essentials and you tell me I'm not supposed to love him come on be reasonable)(he has his own zoo he's a certified pet owner) ( if I had the money for that amount of pets I would do the same Alex I get it ) (also he's a Ferrari fan so you just know bro is always on hopium) (I think he gets put under the radar often but he's great) ( he seems to be a chill dude imo)(we both love lily)

10. Nico Hulkenberg

(German but like in a cool way) ( has been giving dad energy before he was a dad) ( called Hulk but is probably the calmest person on the grid) ( give my man Bruce Banner his podium nah it's not even funny anymore he deserves so much better than that) ( he's won le mans on his first try yk give him the Redbull seat for godsakes) (Nico is so cheeky like I know he's a gen x or something but like I see the genz potential yk) (Audi better have a car good enough for a podium I swear to god if we say bye to him before a podium I'm uhm I'm uh I'm gonna cry).

11. Yuki Tsunoda

(anime boi) (wants a restaurant before he wants a world championship and I respect that Yuki) (has an evil aura) (certified hothead because he's a certified good chef) (has the bitch spirit to be a Redbull driver but is not. because of Horner issues) (Yuki does make the occasional mistakes but like he's far better than the alt no?) (in the words of Yuki "idk man wotever") (too much anger for too small body) (is in love with Pierre Gasly) (is bullied by Pierre Gasly) (everybody loves Yuki even Nando is a fan)(tbf nandos a fan of anyone who has an evil aura) (people are terrified of Yuki radio as they rightfully should be) (Yuki is nightmare gremlin of every race engineer).

12. Pierre Gasly

(French but like from the north of France)(known for being French and Max Verstappen's teammate thus known for being fucked over by Redbull, also known for his revenge win in Monza) ( he's just a great driver like if given the right car he can fight at the top and win he's not on Max and Charles level yet but I feel like around George and better than Lando) ( he's also a good qualifier maybe it has something to do with speaking French who knows but yeah amazing what he can do in that shit alpine) (unfortunately he has a severe case of resting bitch face but he's very nice actually unless you are Esteban then he's not very nice) (yeah he also has the brocedes case of childhood best friends turned enemies but like French and he's very much Lewis in that way which means he would much rather ignore estie bestie than talk about him e.v.e.r while estie brings up his bestie Pierre wherever he can like Nico)( oh and he loves one Japanese boi)(pierreeee gasllyyyyy)

13. Kevin Magnussen

(Kmag the Viking) (my god nobody races like kmag lol) Okay so maybe I put him this high because he's a track terror to everyone but like watcha want me to do? Not acknowledging kmag's great defending is a crime, he is here to cause menace no matter how many penalty points he gains or races he's banned from he's really coming for Ocon's penalty points honour tbh. Shame really that this is his last season... just when things got interesting *sigh* (off the track he's a chill girldad) (hulk and kmag had an enemies-to-lovers story arc and I think that's beautiful)

14. Esteban Ocon

(he's French, he's from Normandy in France which is the north of France so you just know he was a bored child) (he and Pierre were bored babies) (which is probably why he races the way he does lol) (5-second penalty for Ocon) (no but seriously this guy has mad potential but also he's a mad teammate killer and not in a good way) (he has made a way for himself in formula one and he belongs here it's just that maybe if he tried targeting people other than his teammates he would make it much easier for himself) (he's a very cheerful person irl) (big Marvel fan) (gives very early teenage boy vibes) (softie at heart) (cannot for the life of him pronounce squirrel)(oh he also loves lance(rare)) (Estie bestie is on the podium babyyy)

15. Daniel Riccardo

(Aussie Aussie Aussie Oi oi oi ) (damn Daniel) (it's not tears it's athlete sweat ) (I mean I knew it was time to go but still it didn't have to be this way it's okay tho Danny is enjoying retirement and dirt bikes) (yeah the performance was just not there for Danny boi not that we could see it anyway because of vcarbs shit strategy or whatever they call it) (I miss prime Daniel he was such an annoyance to Sebastian)(2014 Daniel took the Australian revenge on Seb for his crimes against Mark Webber) (but yeah Daniel you go out of this sport with lots of love and a fastest lap)(ki ki aye)

16. Valtteri Bottas

(Finnish when he was in Mercedes but is officially Australian since then) ( Bottas more like Bott-ass get what I mean) (I mean that he has a weird obsession with his gluteus maximus) (Valtteri pls I beg you stop this behaviour) (10 time Grand Prix winner Valtteri has nightmares about James aeiou) (Valtteri it's James) (he's pretty chill all he cares about is racing, cyclist girlfriend, and his mullet+moustache(not necessarily in that order)) also here's a sad fact since Valtteri won't be on the grid next year it would be the first time a Finnish racer is not in the grid since 1989 yeah everybody is waiting for Robin Raikkonen now.

17. Sergio Perez

(Checo damn man what happened) (no 2 Redbull driver curse got to checo) (he was doing so good in racing point like Sakhir 2020 my beloved last to first, man what a performance that was) (he is capable of doing such great things but nooo bro gets knocked out in q1 more than he has reached q3) (Redbull killed the dawg in him man) (certain Austrian man haunts his nightmares and no it's not Niki Lauda) (he and Logan are the nightmare gremlins for mechanics)(even when he performs it's usually in no human right countries so he's not really helping the allegations) ( this poor Latina I swear to god) (he can't drive and he's up and about with other women(Taylor swift 1989 reference) aye aye aye(checo go home to your wife and children).

18. Logan Sargeant

(American) (bald eagle noises) (collective groan of William mechanics) (sorry logie bear)(James aeiou shall face the wrath of Jenson button it's ok) (first American to score points in f1 since 1993 that's 30 years so yaaay!!) (American history will be kind to you Logan)(not sure about f1 history tho) (your last gift to us was a sick ass album cover and I respect it) (if only he knew what a kilometre was * sigh*)(bye bye miss American pie).

19. Zhou Guanyu

(China boy) (another alpine escapee) (Zhou I'm sorry but you're not him anymore) (I miss pre-Silverstone 2022 Zhou where has my dawg gone man) (Zhou may not be as good of a racer now but he makes it up by being a fashionista) (tbf to him that Sauber stake monstrosity is not really helpful so) (also he is a catdad and had an emo phase through f3) (He's the first Chinese to ever race in f1 I think he's done his country proud) (He's also a proud Valtteri lover)

Okay so rookies next I did not include them here well because they have had like on avg 4 races soo

1. Oliver bearman

(ollie) (what a wonderful job he has done my god) (p7 in Jeddah on a day's notice wow dude) (he's driving for Haas in 2025 and his teammate is Esteban so that's..great (my condolences!! ifykyk)) also points in Baku after he passed his teammate (tell me you are a lestappen child w/o telling me you're a lestappen child) what I've seen from him I can tell he's very relentless that's good(also he's the most employed unemployed person ever) (also I heard people criticising him by commenting on his current f2 season like babe did u see his rookie f2 season?? that's why he's here not because of this year but last year and he's not doing bad this year it's just the car is shit but yeah he was at one point higher in the f1 standings than in f2 so I get why people are confused lol) (also he's super likeable very Genz very demure very mindful) (Ferrari has grown him in a lab with utmost care so he's very much a PR baby)

(oh yeah also he's in love with Kimi Antonelli) (yeah they are being genz lestappen)

2. Franco Colapinto

(Frankie baby) (Argentinian and very proud) (is very funny) (is also very genz) (sent James aeiou into a crisis by doing a better job than Alex Albon) (scored 4 times the amount of points than his predecessor in his 2nd race) (looks like Senna goes for the gap like Senna( in racing!! in racing!! calm down man)) (he deserves his place in f1 next year my god) (like the racecraft he has shown is very impressive I'm impressed and so is very f1 team even if he does not get the seat next year I doubt people are gonna forget about him believe me he will be in the talks still) (like I said he's not even had a full f2 season when he was called in for Williams and yet the incredible pace he has shown is fantastic) (has all the 30+ aged drivers enthralled with him and I don't blame them I would be too) (also he refers to Ocon as the Frenchman so where do I submit my stan card??) (oh and he has been adopted by Max Verstappen)

3. Liam Lawson

(aka New Zealand's revenge on Australia) (he did a fantastic job in 2023 and has been doing a fantastic job in 2024) (his idol is Lighting McQueen.....so now that everybody knows that he's Genz you can probably understand why he is beefing with Nando and Checo(boomers) (I think he drives aggressively but not as smoothly he is yet to find a balance it looks like but hey it's working out for him no?) (honestly just give either him or Yuki the Redbull seat) (off the track he's quite an expressive person but I don't think we have seen much of his personality he's friendly for sure and I mean he's a cars fan like come on he's a Pixar kid) (idk something about him says yeah I'm Genz but I still go on Facebook) (not that it's bad not saying the vibes are bad just Liam show more personality).

So that's pretty much it let me kno-what ? what do you mean I forgot someone oh lance stroll?? yeah no I didn't forget(I wish) I just have nothing to say really.

PLS READ these rankings are in my opinion and my opinion only please be kind to me this ranking is for humorous and comedic purposes only no hate to anyone!!

[rafescalico]

rafe cameron x dreamy!reader

dreamy always has her head in a book, not like she'll actually read (no the fluttery girl can barely read, if we're being honest) but she lovesss to use her books as an excuse to get lost in her own head, making up her own lil' scenarios of her and rafe somewhere far far away - she always used to skip geography classes 'cause mr riley sat her in the back so she couldn't daze out the window :( so her geographical knowledge was a little stinted, but her n rafe would make it as far as Europe before her brain started to get a lil fuzzy.

when rafe caught dreamy 'reading' a book upside down on his bed the other day he chuckled and asked her, "now, why're u readin' ur book upside down, baby?" dreamy gave him the silent treatment after that, sticking her tongue out at him n flipping the book the right way around.

"hey, don't ignore my, baby, was just wonderin' how my girl got so smart she can read upside down now." now this had dreamy beaming up at him, throwing the book on the floor and jumping onto his lap, she loved that he never made her feel dumb.

rafe wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin as he starts stroking her hair. " was just thinking." dreamy tries to defend herself but rafe knows she just had her head in the clouds again. "sure you were, baby," of course dreamy can never beat the daydreaming allegations so she doesn't even bother to respond instead clutching onto rafe tighter.

"where'd we go this time, huh?" rafe knew everytime dreamy'd get lost in her head it'd only be because in her pretty little brain she n him would be chomping down on pretzels in front of the eiffel tower or somethin'.

dreamy mumbles into his chest, incoherently trying to tell him 'bout their latest adventure but the poor baby was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes and say it. rafe strokes her hair as he listens to her, inputing here n there with little coments like "oh did we ?" and "bet you looked so cute, pretty girl." and dreamy eats it right tf uppp everytime.

"you're my little dreamer, huh."

(hi calicos !! feel free to send me asks and reqs for dreamy reader i love her sm she's my baby)

[incandescentorrery]

In Traitor, Farrier talks about how the myth of Falcrest's Emperor is that it's just some random person grabbed off the street and given a potion which causes amnesia, with the idea being that the Emperor would thus be impartial - he would "retain his knowledge of the world, it's history and geography, it's policies and pressures. But he would have no idea who he had been before he was Emperor."

Of course like one second later Farrier's like "LOL of course we don't do that, that would be stupid." And honestly initially I was so excited to take him at his word (yes I am wearing my clown shoes) because it sounded essentially like a take on the "Original Position" in John Rawls' Justice as Fairness.

Essentially, the Original Position is a thought experiment in which people would come up the basic structure of the society in which they would live BUT they would have absolutely no idea of what their own personal traits would be - the idea being that because they do not know what their specific positions would be in the society, participants would create society which was fair, rational, impartial, etc.

And I think that is just SO INTERESTING in light of the Brain's discussion of how people can never really free themselves of the confines of their own perception in Tyrant - "I cannot clear my eyes of the veils they were born with". Information exists objectively in the world but once it enters our perception it is filtered through all of the experiences we have had, the culture we have been raised in, the education we have received (the "veils").

So, it is interesting that Falcrest and the Cancrioth sort of seem to agree on this point. However, I think that the Brain's comments suggest that even not knowing anything about yourself would not necessarily be enough to be rid of biases. All of the information the Emperor would have received is filtered though all of the experiences he would have learned up to that point. To take a simple example, seeing Taranoke called Sousward on maps - it doesn't matter where the Emperor was originally from, that renaming would inform the decisions he made. Not "remembering" who he was in a past life actually makes it harder to make fair choices because he does not have any clue to what his own biases may have been.

Essentially lacking information about yourself keeps you from knowing who set the conditions in which your choices are to be made.