#I'm glad you like the au! It seems like it could be a very cute one imo!

[the-maddened-hatter]

hi!! if you're still doing the hazbindergarten au, I assume since you've done moxxie you also take helluva boss requests? if so, can we get hcs for fizzarolli and/or stolas?? ty!! this au is very fun jaja

Hi! Yes, I am still taking requests for the hazbindergarten au! (I just kind of forgot about it, but I still love it lol)

(btw you also get a bonus addition of Blitz and Millie because I had written up hcs for them and forgot to post them)

Blitz: Severe dyslexia & ADHD, he struggles badly with reading and writing, which is later found to be profoundly exacerbated by untreated strabismus that has made him blind in his right eye. His father is hinted throughout the series to be involved in several illegal business dealings and that the environment at home is far from safe. His favorite times of class are P.E,  free play, and art (his art always relates to horses and/or pirates in some way, regardless of the assignment). Blitz has a remarkable ability to cause chaos, even without particularly trying to (though he honestly very often is). He has vitiligo, and is a little bit older than his other classmates, turning 6 early on in the school year. 

Stolas: Born to an extremely rich and secretive family, he was initially enrolled in prestigious private schools, but repeatedly had to be discreetly disenrolled from them when he suffered “disgraceful” ongoing incidents of panic attacks and sensory meltdowns. Once he received diagnoses of autism, anxiety,  his father decided it may be “best to put him somewhere he’ll be out of the way” and enrolled him at the first special education classroom he found (which happened to be Charlie’s). Despite all of this, it does end up being a beneficial decision, with Stolas befriending Blitz almost immediately, and, feeling safe when he’s around him, becoming very relaxed and sociable. He mostly communicates through infodumping and scripting from all of the ridiculously advanced science and astronomy books he totes around with him at all times. His favorite time of the day is storytime and whenever the class takes a field trip to the school library he happy-stims the whole way there. Although he gets embarrassed that he doesn’t know as much “book stuff” as Stolas, Blitz enjoys being classroom buddies with him, with Stolas reading to him, and complimenting all of his artwork.

Millie: ADHD with severe hyperactivity & is profoundly hard of hearing. She has numerous rowdy siblings both older and younger than her, which can make managing some of her behavior in class rather difficult since being fast and loud is often advantageous at home. As the semester progresses she befriends Moxxie and helps draw him out of his shell, and she calms down somewhat around him. Her favorite parts of the day are P.E. and free play.

Fizzarolli: Afflicted with a profound connective tissue disorder that sometimes causes him severe pain. He wears complex orthopedic braces and sometimes requires the use of a wheelchair* when his pain is severe. His family works for, lives on the property of, and is implied to be indebted to Blitz’s father, with the majority of his benefit money his family receives for his medical care going towards their dues to him. He is very cheerful and sweet-natured, but if not engaged he will become restless and attempt to perform contortionist tricks for his classmates, not understanding that it will worsen his joint pain. His favorite parts of class are storytime and P.E. (where he gets to do P.T. exercise games with Pentious**)

*Pentious hates his P.T. exercise games, so Fizzarolli always does his best to make him feel better and have a good (or at least a better) time

**It’s very much a cobbled together DIY wheelchair, made from a plastic deck chair, some bicycle & big wheel tires, and a dismantled shopping cart. Everyone pretends it doesn’t violate 5 different school safety guidelines so Fizzarolli can enter the building when he's using it.

[mygnolia]

it’s cupid, stupid! | lhs

୨୧ SYNOPSIS -›  To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?

୨୧ PAIR  -› golden boy!heeseung x fem-pres!reader

୨୧ GENRE -› fluff, pining, hurt/angst, slow burn (oops), bakery au, summer au, post highschool au | ୨୧ TROPES -› (slightly one sided) enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers | ୨୧ WC -› 20k (jfc)

୨୧ INCLUDES -› CURSING, food mentions, a self indulgent characterization of my grandmother but she’s also everyone else’s in this fic, the bakery has foods from like 40 different cultures, both mc and hee get burned but it’s tiny, heeseung’s parents r lowk overachieving assholes this is NOT a reflection of anyone irl, ew so much banter, heeseung and mc drink from the same straw ik that’s an ick for some LOL, underaged alcohol consumption (and being drunk)…sorry

୨୧ REN SAYS... thank u thank u thank u peng aka @jlheon for beta reading this in one sitting for me!!! your comments were so cute i'm so glad you enjoyed reading it <3

plsplsplspls reblog and send feedback/asks if you liked this!

Lee Heeseung might only have eleven characters to his name, but they spelt trouble in forty different ways. 

It starts with the same old Lee Heeseung spilling his applesauce on you in the first grade, with his cup of mushy lukewarm grossness splattered across your new pants with glittery stars on them. You shriek when it happens, frantically wiping off the mess and yelling at his Lightning McQueen lunchbox with all of the bottled up rage a six year old can have. His eyes are wide, but all his friends laugh and say girls are so angry all the time, so he stops himself from apologizing. Which, you think his friends were being a little rude to all girls alike, but what mattered was that Lee Heeseung never ended up saying sorry. 

But that’s just one way of spelling it. He hit you in the face with a ball, ran into you when your knee was scraped and you almost were bursting into tears, and tripped you in the lunch line. 

Did the universe hate you, or did he? 

You figured it was the latter.

Heeseung’s been stuck to you your entire life with some extra strong adhesive that you can’t seem to get off. You wish you could get some of the same glue that stuck you two to the hip and attach his tongue to the nearest streetlight, but things almost never worked in your favor. If you could catch him, just once, like one of the dumb boys who lick frozen poles in winter, you’d be satisfied. 

The blackmail would trump any sort of Heeseung related adversity your elementary grade self had to deal with. 

Unfortunately, the years have rendered you no protection against him, and in the small victories you find yourself in, you also see Heeseung right next to you. The exam you aced was topped by Heeseung with a 98%, just a bit higher than your 96%, and it couldn’t even feel good to talk about it because you knew all your friends talked about was how he did the best. Better than you. 

There was no accomplishment anymore when Heeseung was around. 

Heeseung was perfect in everyone’s eyes, a golden boy in their praises and a role model for their parents. If people didn’t want to be with Lee Heeseung, people wanted to be Lee Heeseung. That? That was something you hated. How could people want to be someone who you couldn’t stand?

Summer is a new slate- a very humid new beginning for you to get away from people at school and hang out with only your closest of friends and to ghost any new message you get. That is, if you choose to. Or, you could have an objectively more “hot girl summer” where you go to pools and post pictures on social media and talk about strangers on the internet. Unfortunately, none of those things seemed to be a viable option, with your friends in different countries and in cute swimsuits. Your visits to your grandmother had been so pushed back with all of the finals on top of exams and end of the year festivities that it had been a while since you last saw her. Spending time with her this summer was your number one priority- your friends could wait a few weeks to hang out again. 

You spend your first Saturday at her house making pastries with oddly reminiscent spices and a sprinkle of your childhood within every slice. If there’s one person you can trust to stay the same, it’s your dear grandma, with her decade old recipes and hard to find ingredients that she sometimes makes you go on a manhunt for. It’s endearing in a way to know that her cooking will never change, and maybe it’s the reason you make an effort to visit when you can. You love your grandma, and you always have, because she’s the only true constant in a world that’s constantly changing. 

You’ve made a feast by the time the sun barely peeks from the edge of the ground. You’ve measured countless spoons of sauces and powdery substances that all look the same and you're surprised the sauce you burned still tastes good. She’s finished setting up the table, and you two can finally dig into your favorite authentic cooking. Even if you see her quite frequently, she doesn’t always cook. Sometimes it’s leftovers, sometimes it’s take-out. But today was different. 

After you’ve both finished, your grandma hands you plastic wrapped dishes filled with mere fractions of what you two have made. She tells you to go to the Lee’s down the road, and your eyes narrow slightly. Lee is also the last name of Heeseung. So, what would be the odds it was him? 

Not likely. Heeseung would think he’s too cool to live in an area like this. His parents are probably minted- and if not loaded, then well off. 

Well, you were 100% wrong! Lee Heeseung does seem to live here, and you will admit the porcelain figures of calico cats in the dark as shapeless silhouettes were a little frightening at first. Your grandma washed away your previous concerns with a “Of course they’ll be home! Heeseung always answers the door for me.” and pushes you out of the house to deliver the two boxes of leftovers that smell delectable. If you weren’t so full, you’d just take a different route and have it for yourself. 

You can hear the ‘it’s our neighbor!’ And a pair of footsteps tumbling down the carpeted stairs to answer the doorbell. 

Lee fucking Heeseung in his sock and pajama clad glory. How punchable he looked in this very moment, with his warm brown dyed hair and white t-shirt. 

“I have leftovers. For your family.” His widened eyes immediately go back to their normal state, and he reaches out to meet your offering halfway. 

“You live here?” He asks, in a calm, civil manner that you don’t think you’ve ever seen with him. 

“Grandma does- I’m just her errand…runner.” You respond, in a not so smooth way. You wince internally at how choppy your words come out, but make no further effort to fix it. By now, it’s Heeseung who’s holding the styrofoam boxes. Your job is done. “Do you live here?” 

He nods solemnly, a smile filled with a smidgen of pride dusted across his features. He loves this house- Heeseung’s been in it his entire life, and it’s obvious the memories that have stayed with him since childhood make him far from ashamed to say it’s where he’s grown up all these years. But you? Could you say the same thing about the simple abode you went home to everyday? 

Maybe not. Another reason why Heeseung had it perfect, and another reason to resent him. 

You sighed to ease the tension that had condensed between the two of you. His mom wondered what took him so long, and he wondered the same question. 

Before you’re about to turn away, he blurts, “Thanks for the food.” You turn around, nodding a silent ‘of course,’ and walking away. 

At that very moment, there was no reason to hate Lee Heeseung. But as you walked away and back to your house, you hated the calico cats and the gate you entered through the house he went back inside to. 

The nostalgic board game high with your grandma does not last for long. As if the universe needed another reason to hate you, the unfortunate truth was that there was always more in store when you were subjected to a bad day, a bad week, or even a case of bad luck. You come back to the mahogany door to terrible news- your grandmother is sick. You rush out of her house the same day with the names of medicinal cures scribbled on a notecard and an urgency in your step. You buy her enough to last for the next few lifetimes, but it doesn’t matter. Anything healthy you could find in the fresh food aisle, you put in your cart, and when you came home, she was already up and sweeping the cold floors with a cough threatening to overwhelm her. 

Sometimes, you wish she didn’t overwork herself. You gently coerce her into laying on the couch, taking some of the medicine you got with a cup of warm water to ease her throat. She says nothing and you expect nothing in return for the last minute shopping you’ve done, but her eyes hold a sincere thankfulness that you know she will never speak aloud. When she’s retired to her bed, you finish unpacking the groceries and complete the mental task of chores your grandma would’ve exerted herself to finish independently. When you’ve finished, your hands are dry with soap and cleaning products, and your arms ache from the mopping, but the house is clean, and your grandma is sleeping well in the other room. You turn off the tv with one of her shows and switch off the light, heading back to your room and changing out of your clothes. By the time you crawl into your bed and charge your phone, the moon is the last thing you remember seeing before you fall asleep.

Monday comes unexpectedly, despite time still being on its course. You find yourself flipping through the cookbooks that littered the walls in your grandmother’s room, and in turn, the absolute urge to busy yourself in her passions manifested in the impulsive decision to work at her bakery. 

“Could- could I go work in the shop?” 

At first, her rejection was through scowls and furrowed eyebrows wondering why someone like you would want to fill their youthful summer days dusting surfaces with flour and kneading doughs instead of living the dream and swimming in turquoise waters. Her second rejection is easier to register. “I already have Hee helping me.” She states plainly, excusing the idea of two people in one room to run her business. Your nose scrunches up, and the temperature of your blood increases tenfold.

“Heeseung,” she clarifies, with almost too much enthusiasm. “He’s in your grade. Goes to your school, too.” She smiles, brushing a section of hair behind your ear and examining the imperfections on your skin. You frown, the obvious displeasure plastered on your features. It’s not hard to notice you don’t like what she just told you. “You don’t like him?”

“It’s whatever.” You tell her, shrugging away from her gaze and shrinking in on yourself. “I don’t care much for him.” 

What a lie! “It seems like you don’t like him.” She comments.

Of course you don’t like him. Heeseung is stuck up, arrogant, and looks past people like you- people who just aren’t as perfect as him. “I mean, why can’t I help you? Shouldn’t Heeseung….rest for the summer?” 

“It’s fine- he’s helped me out multiple times anyways.” She concludes, closing the book she was reading previously. “I wouldn’t mind you coming down to help, I’m sure 17 year olds like you and Hee can run things by yourself.” You raise an eyebrow at both of your names mentioned, but don’t speak out against her. 

You can run it by yourself, but you won’t, simply because your grandmother seems to have an affinity for some boy you just happen to hate. Plus, if Heeseung messes up, you get all the triple chocolate cake to yourself, so you’ll pray on his downfall until then. 

Wednesday morning is when you head over to the bakery, at a much earlier time than usual. The business doesn’t open until at least an hour later, and you spend the time preparing the mixing stands and covering the sweet rolls to be baked in a light sheen of oil. When the sun shines more vibrantly in the morning sky, and the cars honk at the traffic, a ruffled head of hair enters the building, and you’re very worried that you might’ve forgotten to lock the doors. “Sorry, we’re closed!” You yell out, but Lee Heeseung’s tuft of tinted hair is already in your vicinity. 

“The real question would be why you’re here, Miss _____.” He glances towards you, curiosity glazing his eyes over. You immediately scowl at his slightly teasing tone, one that could feel even condescending if he pushed that boundary just a bit more. Lee Heeseung might objectively be better than you in the eyes of an average high schooler, but frankly, you were just the same, and he had no right to sound that amused when you woke up and came here first. It’s 8:03am, and you already found just one more reason to hate him. 

You roll your eyes, knowing that with your back turned to him, he wouldn’t notice the obvious displeasure. “I can’t help out my grandma?” 

It’s so quiet in the place that you hear him suck on a breath behind you. “She’s your grandma?” 

“Did you not remember when I dropped off the food? Oh right, you probably wouldn’t spend your time on something so…,” you pause, racking your brain for a word you think he would use. “‘insignificant.’” 

Rustling. He takes a bowl and a carton of eggs. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Sorry, it’s just so difficult to believe you’re related to her.” Were you really that detached from your culture, or was Heeseung just mean? 

Lee Heeseung’s words get right under your skin, and it makes you see red. You frown in his direction, disregarding his words and moving on with your day.  “Yeah, my grandma is nice, I just don’t know why she thinks you’re a saint.”

“She thinks I’m a saint?” And you see something for the first time, something that’s akin to stars in his eyes, and the corner of his lips turn in satisfaction. He doesn’t even comment on how you’ve let it slip that you’re jealous of their relationship. 

“Maybe in your dreams.” 

“You just said-“ 

You feel like two cats about the fight behind a dumpster, before the door jingles, and someone walks into your conversation with Heeseung. 

“Sorry, is the shop not-?”

You rush to the counter before Heeseung does, counting it as a mental victory to take the first order. 

“It is! What would you like?” It’s something else you can tell your grandma when you get home- that you’ve been starting off all the work in the bakery, and you’re ‘not sure what Heeseung really does.’

The professionalism masks the irritation on his features, and you would’ve killed to see Lee Heeseung’s frown once more. 

When the customer is done telling you his order, you make sure he gets everything he needs, fully satisfied before the ring of the door is heard once more during his departure. The corner of your lip turns up into a grin, victorious as you childishly tease your co-worker. 

“I’m going to do the most around here, and I don’t need your pretty face getting in the way of things.” 

While he denies the rest, Heeseung doesn’t quite ignore what you said about his features. 

When noon has passed, but the sun still glares down on everyone outside, you work just as hard as the white ceiling fan providing cool air for everyone inside. You work in silence, with a playlist filling the air and adding to the ambience, as you listen to your own music through your headphones. Heeseung works without interacting with you more than what needs to be done, and rarely asks for help. He doesn’t let people down; if anything, he exceeds their expectations, but never yours. It’s been like this since the beginning, and you’re convinced it’s something personal- some wrangle ever since you two learned what cooties were that lasted until now. 

“____,” He starts, turning to you. You glance at him, waiting for the boy to continue. “Can you make the brown sugar milk tea- it’s on the-“ 

“I know where it is.” You snip.

Heeseung makes the right choice (in your opinion) to say nothing as you proceed to grab a cup and open the container of boba pearls. After you’ve taken a few orders, you move to the back of the bakery to pull the tray of matcha sheet cake onto the counter to cool. 

“Have you seen the scissors?” Heeseung asks out of nowhere, startling you from the doorway. 

Reaching for the ones you used to cut the parchment paper with, you hand the pair to him and with a mumbled ‘thank you,’ he makes his leave.

In an odd way, you’re stunned by the silence that follows. A “you suck, _____!” would be more in character for villainous Lee Heeseung than whatever just happened. But you’re way too occupied with the bakery, and go back to cutting squares in the matcha cake. 

It’s the same for the next hour until the rush ends and you get a bit more time to yourselves between orders. Heeseung agrees to wash the dishes and you clean the tables to the sound of your playlist from the speakers. 

“You have good music taste.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he emerges. He wipes his hand on a white towel and you stare at him, utterly puzzled. Where’s the malice? Where’s his snarky comments?

“I’m waiting for you to tell me it’s not as good as yours, or something along those lines.” You deadpan. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “I’m not that mean, I can give a compliment or two when I feel like it.” 

“Oh, poor Lee Heeseung only has so much room in his heart to compliment people. How thankful should I be that you spend your daily supply of niceness on me?” You snap, cleaning off the tables. Your chest feels light and you don’t feel as angry as you did this morning, finding your digs to be more playful that serious

Blame it on the lack of sleep.

“I think you should be bowing down to me and only talking when I tell you to.” He jokes, and when you glance up, there’s a semblance of a smile on his face. “Anyways, when are you leaving?”

“Whenever you leave.” You tell him, shrugging. 

“Your grandma said she didn’t want you to stay too late but she also wanted me to take you home, and I think she’d throw a fit if you didn’t. You were dropped off this morning, right?”

“I’d die before getting into a car with you, Lee Heeseung.” 

“If I had to get into a car with you, that’s probably how I’d die.” He responds lightly. You furrow your eyebrows and rack your brain for some sort of retort that hurts Heeseung’s pride, but nothing comes up. 

“My driving skills are very good, I’ll have you know.” 

He jabs, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“How about, next time you come, you leave with your bumper falling off? Some bad driving, yeah?” 

Heeseung could start feeling dizzy if his eyes continue to roll around in his skull. “Sure, we’ll see what your insurance has to say about that.” 

The aroma of vanilla slips through the air, and momentarily distracts you as you make haste to get it from the ringing oven. Unfortunately, your enthusiasm spills over the rim, and when reaching inside, you feel the burn of the sheet cake as you leave it on the iron rack to cool. Heeseung doesn’t tear his eyes from the way you jump back, squeezing the tender skin between your fingers as you blow on it in puffs. 

“Are you okay? Here-“ He reaches for your hand, but gentle. “Let me see that.” Heeseung soothes the slight pain with his thumb running over the burn, and his breath cooling it down slowly. 

“I’m fine.” You tell him, slowly pulling your finger away. His gaze snaps back up at you, and you feel your disdain for him dwindle ever so slightly. Maybe the Heeseung that rushed to make sure you were okay isn’t so bad. 

“Right. You’ll be fine.” And he doesn’t know if it’s something he tells himself, or if he’s telling you, when he goes to get some ointment. 

“A grad party? With Heeseung? Invited?” 

You can’t see him, but you almost hear Sunoo’s pout from the line. “Yeah, I don’t even know why you two fight anyways.” 

You huff, laying back down on your bed after Sunoo’s confession made you shoot up in surprise. “Have you seen him? He’s the most stuck-up annoying person ever.” 

Your friend hums. “To be honest, I don’t think you really know him.” 

“I know him plenty. And there’s nothing good about him, like, ever!” 

“You barely even talk to him, ____.” The last week proves differently, but you bite your tongue.

“I talk to him enough!” You’d defend yourself until the end of the earth. “He’s just…always around me- not like I even want him to, or he’s always hanging out with my friends, or-“

“Our friends.” 

“Well, not really.” You think hard. “They’re only friends because you and I are friends, so I’m friends with Heeseung in a distant obligatory way. And I need to keep it that way by not coming to this party.” 

“Come on!” Sunoo whines from the phone, and you laugh at his antics. “It’s a grad party, you’ll be too busy talking with everyone else to care anyways.” 

“Well, maybe for a bit.” 

“When’s the next time we’ll even be able to see each other anyways? Considering all of this college stuff.” 

You break his facade. “We’re literally going swimming in two weeks from now.” Sunoo laughs. “No, ____. Swimming is different from eating snacks and playing dumb board games.” 

He’s right, and you admit that it’ll be fun for something once last time. 

Maybe Heeseung won’t even show up. 

The next day at the bakery, you rush to ask him, almost too eager to know his answer. “Are you going to Sunoo’s party?” Please say no please please please-

“Of course. I’m his friend. You weren’t invited, or something?” His tone makes you want to light a fire on his head. 

“I’m his friend, too. I was the first person he talked to about it, so of course I was invited, and of course I’m going.” You say it as if the boy in front of you didn’t make you single handedly question your attendance last night. You say it like your demeanor never faltered, not even once. You say it like Heeseung had no say in the decision.

Because he definitely didn’t.

“I’ll see you there, then.” He smiles at you, a glint of evil in his eyes as he gauges your reaction. You return his scheming grin, frosting a slice of cake before walking out and calling the order number. When Heeseung emerges from the paper white curtains, he sees you engrossed in helping a customer pick out a few of the best options for ‘something not so sweet.’ 

When you’re done, you turn around to take a sip of your iced tea. “Really?” He starts, stirring some milk into a swirling shot of espresso. “The red bean cake is your definition of not too sweet?” Your ear-to-ear smile falls when you hear the off-handed comment from Heeseung, leaning against the counter with his taro milk tea, with close to no sugar. 

“I’m sure if they asked you, they would’ve walked out with a cake that tastes like a sponge.” You retaliate. You do your best not to look so affected, seeing as there were other people in the vicinity. It’s a bakery, you have to keep up the comforting atmosphere. 

“I don’t really think you’re the best person to offer advice for those kinds of things, unfortunately.” His tone snips at your resolve, and with every passing moment you stare at his lips and listen to his words, the more you wish to sew them together. 

“Sure, and they’ll be satisfied with eating basically paper? Your standards are also a little far-fetched.” You busy yourself with cleaning the cups and bowls from this morning, physically turning away from him. 

He walks past you and into the kitchen, but not before saying, “I’m sorry one of us has good taste.” 

You pray to every being that someone keeps Heeseung from speaking another insufferable word. 

Sunoo’s house is as quaint as you remember, and although you don’t find yourself making the resemblance often, it suits him. With one hand occupied with holding a gift, and the other about to press the doorbell, you’re interrupted by an all too familiar voice. 

“I guess you did show up. Sucks to see my dreams didn’t come true.”

“I will throw this at you.” You motion to the neat basket in your hands.

Heeseung sighs dramatically, before continuing in the same feigned tone. “Would be a shame if Sunoo only had one gift from us.” 

“He’d understand.” You turn around to ring the doorbell, and Sunoo emerges, a bright smile on his face. He greets the both of you, and his quick side hug immediately reminds you of why you’re here. 

You will have a good time. And you won’t let any auburn haired boy ruin that. 

Despite being close to Sunoo, you’re not as close to the rest of his friends. He keeps his circle small, only with people he spends time with regularly. Which would be good for any other day, but for today, you feel almost like an outsider. Sunoo’s group of friends greet you all the same, and shower the boy behind you with affection. When you walk towards the kitchen, you catch some more of your mutual friends, and your nerves slowly ease away. You join their ongoing card game, an observer to it all as they yell in success or defeat. 

The group of people playing Taboo suddenly doubles as the six of Sunoo’s friends decide they want in. With the way you move to the floor, you’re so preoccupied with making sure there’s enough space for everyone and that all the cards are there, that you don’t realize where you’re sitting. 

Cross legged, on the ground, next to Lee Heeseung. 

You can’t get up, and you weakly protest against the many thoughts telling you that a game of Taboo with Lee Heeseung would get you so heated that everyone would see steam out of your ears by the end of the first round. 

“You know how to play?” Yuna starts to thumb through the cards, making sure all of them are placed in the right orientation. While the majority of you guys nod, a few of them shake their heads, and it prompts a quick explanation from Ryujin. 

“So, everyone gets a set of cards in a team of 3, and you have to describe it without using the words in the white box below. So for example, if my word is Vanilla, I can’t use the words bean, flavor, ice cream, extract, or chocolate.” She shows everyone the example card, and you all nod your heads. “Okay, now we divide into teams!” You tune out the rest of her words as she divides you all into sections based on where you’re sitting, and it leaves you with a twisting feeling. 

“Blue will be ____, Heeseung, and Jungwon!” 

Truly, was luck ever on your side?

You don’t have time to ponder just how horrible things are going, because Jungwon’s excitedly pulling you two close into a circle to discuss game plans. 

“Okay, just skip the cards you can’t answer, think about references rather than actual descriptions. Guys, the prize is good, Sunoo told me.” And the need to win anything reignites in your eyes, determination being your main motivation. 

Jake, Sunghoon, and Yuna go first, and guess four cards correctly. You feel the excitement coursing through the air like electricity, as everyone’s competitive spirit shows through. 

It’s finally your turn, and you volunteer to be the describer, picking up the cards with anticipation. You share a look with Heeseung and Jungwon, praying they share your wave of telepathy. 

First word- Engine. 

You scan through the words you’re not allowed to use, Jake watching over as your referee in case you slip up. 

“Okay, it’s the thing in the-“ You’re about to say car, but you pause, quickly trying to reevaluate your descriptions. The timer looms, and you feel panic settle in. “The thing that powers the…vroom vroom.” 

In Jungwon’s head, it clicks. “Engine!” You toss the card, reading the next. Egypt? 

“It’s a 3D thing, but it has three sides in north Africa.” 

“Pyramids.” Heeseung answers smoothly. 

You grin unknowingly. “Right-right, okay. Where is it?”

“Egypt.” 

“This is a Jesus related celebration-“ You continue, glancing at the hourglass as the sand slips through.

“Easter!” Jungwon says. “Christmas!” 

“The second one! It’s one of the little things you… put up!” 

“Stockings!” And you shake your head at Jungwon, goading them to think a bit more and guess. You glance up almost sheepishly, at a loss of words and stumbling over thoughts. Heeseung sighs, leaning back before looking at you again. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” You huff, flicking at the card anxiously. 

“Like what? Like you can’t describe a simple word?” 

“Oh, as if you could-“

“Ornament!” And with that, the timer ends. You glare at Heeseung, hard, and if you were anything like Superman, you really would’ve burned holes through his skull. Thankfully, with Jungwon was your mediator, you don’t say anything snarky back at him, staying silent as the other groups go. 

The first round tension eases as the night carries on. As Jake and Sunghoon score 7 cards in one round, it prompts you, Heeseung, and Jungwon to come together, a jittery feeling as you sip from a can of soda and pray your brain works in tandem with both of them. 

Remembering Heeseung’s your describer, you sink in your seat a little, feeling hopelessness consume your mind- but Jungwon doesn’t let you sulk as he cheers Heeseung on. “Last round!” He says, a sparkle in his eye. The teams are so close, and despite your team having the lowest points by being the last group to go, you know you can score the 6 points needed to beat Ni-ki, Ryujin, and Sunoo. 

The hourglass is flipped, and you hold your breath. 

“Naturally occuring formation,” he says smoothly, glancing at you and Jungwon. “Hot stuff.” 

It clicks. “Volcano!” Jungwon smiles, feeling victory running through his veins. Heeseung’s lip curls up. 

“It’s the saying with too many people, ‘three’s a..” He waits for you both to finish the line. 

“Crowd!” Heeseung and you smile at each other as he continues to rush through the cards, briefly glancing over to the timer. 

He falters slightly, before lighting up. “When you’re excited, you’re on ____ 9.” You finish it quickly, burning holes into the back of his cards before he continues. You have to win. 

“Jungwon, we played this game in 2020 on Discord with the guys!” 

“Among Us.” and you laugh at the references he makes to win.

“____, it’s the 60% thing you like at the bakery.”

Your breath hitches, and you almost forget to answer until you see the way he’s looking at you. 

“Chocolate.” You mumble, and he cracks a grin again, relieved to get it in only four seconds. 

With the way he looks at the words and furrows his eyes, you worry that the sand will slip through the hourglass completely before he can finish explaining the sixth and final word. 

Heeseung chooses to deviate from the normal meaning of the words, and chooses to use a different meaning of it in order to not risk using a word on his unavailable list. “When something is more spicy than you expect, you say it has a little something to it.” 

Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re barely in the same spot as you were when you first started, leaning over and closer to Heeseung’s curly fringe. “Kick!” you yell out, and the room explodes in commotion, carefully counting the tallies under every team name. Yeji sighs as she marks down your final tally, and you stand up, all in a group hug before you even realize it. You watch Heeseung, looking up at the way his eyes are closed and his smile’s wide. The adrenaline keeps you jumping with your partners, unaware of how Sunoo observes the carefree way you cling onto his friend, and the supposed bane of your existence. When you two finally stop cheering at your long awaited victory, you shoot Heeseung a glance, noticing how he’s already looking at you with the same gears turning in his head. Although you’ve created space, he’s zoned out, and you can tell he hasn’t noticed that you two once again make eye contact. It takes a raised eyebrow from you for him to look elsewhere, absentmindedly tonguing the inside of his cheek, feeling almost embarrassed to have been so close. 

There’s a bubbling feeling in your stomach whenever you think about how he remembered- how Lee Heeseung pays attention to the little things. You push it down, because it’s nothing more than what coworkers do for each other. He’s cordial, as always. That’s all it is.

“Didn’t seem like you hated Heeseung much.” Sunoo comments, a smile puffing up his cheeks. You roll your eyes, helping him pick up some of the stray trash from the floor after the party is over. 

“Don’t even!’ You start, debating if you should throw a Dorito in his face. “It’s just for the games, he was literally insufferable every other minute.” 

Sunoo is unfortunately the victim to your back-and-forth, trying for you to see with reason but falling short to your simple petty nature. He fails to see how Heeseung has treated you, but deep down, you see it. You see the occasional stare Heeseung finds himself in with you, the frown on his features or the way he always carries himself  as if he’s somehow better than you. It’s exasperating how easily he surpasses you, and always glances back to make sure you know. The looks he gives you are deceptive, and you basically see his thoughts laid out in front of him before he turns away. You swear to Sunoo that he has it out for you, always trying to boost that inflated ego of his by showing you how much better he is at anything. 

“How are you so sure Heeseung just wants to rub it all in your face? Well, wait.” He pauses, tying a trash bag closed. “Why do you look at him so much that you catch him staring?” 

Oh. You think about it, truly emptying your brain to find a proper answer, but deep down, there was none to be found. 

“I don’t know, Sunoo,” you huff. “He just always looks at me.” 

“Maybe he wants to be friends.” 

Violently shaking your head, you smash in a water bottle, feeling a flash of confusion pass through you. “Why would he want to be friends with me? To show he’s such a nice and caring person?” The boy on the receiving end sighs, slumping to the floor in the kitchen. You stare at him, watching how Sunoo deflates before going to wash his hands in the sink. “You’re insufferable.” He calls out, laughing quietly. 

A frown makes its way onto your features unknowingly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you truly put yourself in your friend’s shoes. 

Surely, Sunoo sees what you mean, right? There’s just no way Heeseung would want to be friends with you either- it’s not like you treat him any better than he treats you. Plus, Heeseung has had it out for you, always by your side for the best and for the worst times, somehow dampening your mood in both. 

Right?

After a tight hug from Sunoo and your efforts to lift his mood after a long day, you get in your car, a random song from your playlist coursing through the stuffy air. 

There is mutual hatred- well, maybe not hatred, but dislike. A definite dislike between you and some part time bakery employee who also happens to be the worst boy you’ve ever met. 

You’re beginning to think that this feud between you two is a small flame that you’re shoveling piles of wood into, igniting from your own hands. 

You have no idea how to prove it, though. You can’t let yourself look like an idiot by simply being nice to him if he really has it out for you and hates you- or else he’ll get some sort of upper hand. 

Your plan goes like this; You’ll give Lee Heeseung one chance to prove himself as an arrogant and selfish person, and when it happens, it’ll be true solid evidence you have to dislike him. It’ll prove that Lee Heeseung hasn’t changed one bit, and that you were always right in your beliefs. 

You trust the universe will help you out one time, and pray for the best. 

So that’s why, when your grandmother invites you to join her at the Lee’s once again, you agree, finally getting to try not just the leftovers of Mrs. Lee’s delicious galbi recipe. 

And that’s how you're standing in front of his doorstep with a welcome mat under your feet, and a porcelain cat staring up at you from the porch. 

You hear the commotion that follows your knock, and you're greeted with a warm smile from whom you can only assume is Heeseung’s mother. After she invites you in, you meet the rest of the family, and make sure your grandmother has taken a seat. Heeseung glances at you from the stairs, before wordlessly joining the table, quickly grabbing bowls in the kitchen before coming to sit down. Everyone interacts, and you’re stuck smiling and shaking hands with his father and bowing to his grandmother, asking if there’s anything you can do to help. 

When his mother brings the steaming aromatic food over, your eyes light up. “Here, Heeseung, sit next to ____!” 

Your smile drops. 

He takes the empty seat next to you, flashing you a grin. “Long time no see.” You roll your eyes, with the distance between the two of you closer than ever, you lean over to make sure your grandma gets plenty of cabbage kim-chi and warm sauces with her rice, helping her whenever necessary. By the time you sit back down, your bowl already is full of food. You glance over at the culprit.

Heeseung just shrugs when you raise an eyebrow, muttering a thank you before digging in. 

“I hear you’re planning to attend the same university as Heeseung.” His mother’s words cause your eyes to widen, choking slightly on your bite before you feel someone’s hand on your back. “You okay, ____?” And the mirth in his eyes tells you he finds your reaction funny.

You shake your head in earnest, feeling yourself lose even more passion for school. She continues, reaching for some grilled meats with her chopsticks. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? You two are basically neighbors, and you’re always super hard working. Maybe Heeseung could learn a thing or two, since I hear so much about how you help out your grandma.”

You’re pleased to hear she likes you, but it all comes out at once, and her confessions leave you in surprise. You glance over at the boy next to you, hoping to gain some wicked satisfaction from it all, but what you see leaves you with a dejected look. Heeseung’s gaze is steely, and you notice the almost glare his mom sends her son after saying it. He feels small, unlike the confidence that surrounds him after test scores or when he got admitted into his colleges. Something doesn’t feel right, and it leaves a sour feeling on your tongue when you try to make yourself bigger than him. 

“Heeseung has always done well. I’m sure he’ll continue to do well both at the bakery and in school.” You don’t mean to disagree with her, but it’s true. You hate to admit it, at least to his face, but Heeseung’s worked just as hard or harder than everyone else. He tilts his head in confusion as to why you’d voice something like that, and you roll your eyes, hoping that he never brings it up again.  

You continue to talk with his mother, laughing at her comments and going along with whatever she has to say, no matter how traditional her views might be. You thank her profusely for the meal, and she waves you off with a bashful look. ‘It’s nothing,’ she communicates through her laughs and small hug when you two are about to leave.

“See!” Your grandma says on the walk back, as you carry tupperware of marinated meats and soup. “Hee isn’t so bad after all.” 

“I guess.” You really have nothing else to tell her, not wanting to ruin the delicate moments between you two as the sun casts down a slim glow. “He didn’t really say much.” 

His mom, however, made you realize just why Heeseung performs at the standard he does- because he really has no choice but to be the best, or to accept failure in front of his parents’ eyes. It’s a corrosive treatment, one that slowly digs away at anyone’s ability to be passionate about truly anything. 

She changes the subject. “How’s the bakery?” 

You want to tell her that Heeseung is annoying, that he runs around always telling you to do things, that he’s always too busy covered in flour and coconut cream to help you out. You want to tell her that you hate Heeseung, and that your quality of life decreases whenever he’s around. He messes with you, sends jokes and digs your way, and you don’t know how to get him out of there faster. 

“Heeseung’s fine. I know he’s a big help to you.” And maybe, he’s become a big help to you, too. 

There is one thing you’re not sure you can perfect- macarons. 

They’re dumb, take so little ingredients yet such precision- and to be honest, do they even taste that good? In your personal opinion, they’re nothing amazing, and honestly, the scraps of chocolate cake that you don’t use for cake pops serves you well. 

The night before, you and Heeseung both mutually agreed to stay for a bit longer, starting on the macarons so neither of you would mess up tomorrow morning in a rush. It’s a large order, and you get them relatively often. You try to get tips from your grandmother the night before that, writing them down in your phone and making sure you listen to every piece of advice she says. You write down the last thing in your notes, ominously typed out in bold text. “don’t overdo it.” it reads, and you stay up watching videos on how other people make them look so perfect. 

Staying late for the shift meant you shifted your routine by a few hours- showering later, eating a bit later, and sleeping less than you should’ve. You were tired already, but the extra work only added to it, making you feel less and less confident in every piped macaron. 

The alarm reads 8:00am, a criminally late hour if you want to get to work on time. Sending a quick apologetic text to your coworker, you rush out of the house, driving as carefully as you can to make it there while scraping as much time off as you can. Rushing in, you see Heeseung, leaning over and assessing your yellow batch. If the grid you used was supposed to be a 5 by 11 sheet, then there should be 55 macarons- but you notice, in a few places, there are missing confections. 

One culprit. “How childish do you have to be to eat the ones I’ve made?” The immediate accusation has Heeseung looking up at you, straightening his back to narrow his eyes. 

“Some of your macarons were hollow shelled.” 

“What, so you go and throw them away without even asking me?”

Heeseung hates how the mood is immediately dampened, finding himself getting more heated around you. “We literally need 25 of each- only four of yours were hollow- I had to start making another batch because I didn’t want to risk mine being hollow, too.” He tries to explain, tapping his fingers on the counter. Your skin feels hot- how dare he mess with the batch you already worked so hard to pipe and fold? If you were to fish out the shells from the trash right now, you would be positive that they weren’t even that empty. You grab one of the tools from near the sink, going to inspect his red ones. 

His attempt to make himself look human is shattered when you notice that none of his, are in fact, hollow like how he presumes they were. 

“You didn’t even check yours!” You exclaim, feeling targeted. 

He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t even matter who’s batch it was- why do you care so much that I was trying to help you out because you were late today?” 

That- that was your reason. Lee Heeseung once again spelt trouble, by meddling in your macarons when you could’ve so easily examined them yourself. He turns around to start washing the utensils in the sink, as you stand there and seethe. Blame it on the sleep, or on the stress of rushing out this morning, but all of it makes you walk out of the building, feeling the hot tears fill your waterline before they spill and cascade down your skin. 

You worked so hard to make them- and even if they weren’t perfect, even if what he had to say was right, you just wished you could’ve seen it for yourself. You haven’t worked there much prior to the summer, and macarons have always been something you’ve wanted to nail, so to see Heeseung set the standard according to his own feelings and just throw out the ones you wanted to see- well, it hurts. It’s a jab at your pride, at all the effort you’ve put into learning and watching videos, sacrificing sleep to listen to people croak advice after advice on one of the greatest baking feats. It hurts to see once again that you’ve failed to be like Heeseung, and that he took matters into his own hands by assessing your tray for you

Fishing out your phone, you look for one contact to offer comfort. “Grandma?” You ask, sinking down to rest your head on your knees without sitting on the cement. You’re next to your car, not wanting to go through the efforts of finding your keys. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately after hearing your sniffle, and you tell her. You tell her about how your shells were uneven, and how you worked so hard for them, and how Heeseung threw them away before you could even see for yourself. She understands your pain, and tells you that no one can perfect something as difficult as macarons- and that during spring break, she had seen Heeseung go through the same thing. It helps, just a little, to know that he started from the same place as you, too. You calm down with her further reassurance, and wipe your puffy eyes before coming back in. You’re afraid the patrons will notice something’s up, and ignore Heeseung’s worried looks to pat cold water onto your eyelids in hopes of helping them look less red.

He sees all of it- Heeseung Isn't stupid, he knows what he’s done, but he can’t get himself to apologize. And as you knew, he went through the same heartbreaking process, and in his thorough reassessment of the situation, he doesn’t know why he didn’t see it from your perspective until you stormed out. 

‘I'm sorry,’ he writes on the bag of lemon curd he made for your macarons. But it does little to salvage your disposition for today. You ignore him, never asking for any help, or any opinion even in the times you usually would. It’s quiet throughout the whole day, like a gray cloud has dampened the colors in the sky, and you clock out at exactly the right time after everything is done, put away, and cleaned. you refuse to leave a mess for Heeseung to point out, but you leave feeling angry, sad, but mostly, disappointed. 

The next day, you arrive at the bakery to find Heeseung sipping from a dangerously large cup of instant boba and taro milk. His eyes dart up to witness all of your struggling glory carrying a shipment that came to the house instead of the shop. In a hurry, he grabs a few boxes from the top and sets them down on the counter, and whatever you were carrying follows suit. He treats you as if you didn’t fight, as if you two aren’t filling the room with tension the more you steal glances at each other. He grabs his drink, one that he’s prepared 15 minutes ago, and finishes almost another quarter of it in one long sip.

You want to tease him for how much taro he’s had when it’s barely 8 o’clock, but it’s not the right time. Days like this are always slow, only dragged out longer by the silence and lack of tasks. The awkward silence between you two fuels him to grab scissors and start opening the boxes. 

“I thought your grandma might’ve told you I could handle it.” Heeseung comments, refilling the crushed water and oreo toppings. “I was checking the delivery updates pretty often.”

“Not often enough,” you snap. You fight back a glare, and proceed to open up your own box of extracts. “I’m her granddaughter. Maybe you should go enjoy summer with your friends. Don’t you have a beach trip to thirst trap at or something?” It’s meant to be an insult, but Heeseung quietly chuckles, finding it a little funny. 

“Yes, we are having a beach trip soon. But i already told your grandma I’ll work in the morning before your aunt comes to take over.” You frown, wondering why your grandma never reaches out to you and asks you to help.

With emphasis on the syllables in his name, you fire back, “Let’s be clear, Heeseung, she wants my help much more than she needs yours.” He glares, stirring a cup with his eyebrows furrowed and lips curled down in distaste. 

“I’m sure that’s why she was so enthusiastic about coming over to our house and talking to me.” It’s your turn to scowl, and you’re afraid Heeseung’s comments will only take years off your life and produce wrinkles on your face much quicker. 

“Funnily enough, I heard she didn’t want you working there at all.” You cross your arms to look at him as a way to further your point. 

He responds defensively. “Yeah. as if.” Even the way Heeseung rolls his eyes at you is annoying. “She just wants me around more than you.” 

You can’t feel offended, especially when his tone is so light. It probably isn’t even true- how much your grandmother prefers Lee Heeseung over you, just like anyone else. The feeling burns you and you shrink away from the heat of the sudden fire accompanied by the implications of his words. Heeseung catches on to the sudden shift in your demeanor. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean that.” He tries to apologize, watching you carefully.

The flames leave you angry with his response, feeling once again belittled by him. “Bullshit. Are you glad you’re the favorite for every single person you know?” 

His eyebrows furrow, feeling the bite of your words, and the mood instantly changes. “That’s not what I meant, ____.” 

You roll your eyes. “Of course that’s not what you meant, Heeseung. Of course you’re the one who’s perfect, and I’m simply the one who misinterprets all of it. Of course you have never had a bad intention ever and you are loved by everyone. Why can’t you just go? Do you really have to take one more thing away from me and make it your own?” The years of resentment pile up in the words you throw at him, and the built up wall you’ve created finally shows just why you should despise him so much. “Or was it not your intention to do that either?” 

It’s too early, to be honest, to be fighting like this, and you’re definitely saying things that you’re going to regret. But you’re tired of being second to him- tired of never getting the recognition you so badly deserved from those who you actually wanted to hear it from. You’re tired of never being heard by your teachers, getting grades that swoop right under a certain someone’s. All on purpose. (right?)

Despite the sudden urge to bicker with you about how you think everything is about you, and how you’ve never given him a chance, the boy beside you is observant to how hurt you sound being so vulnerable. Heeseung finds himself trying to rethink the past ten years of shared childhood experiences. He’s never really thought about what he’s done to deserve such resentment from you, but the more he says silent, the more he realizes that he’s always so graciously soaked up praise from everyone, and because of it, you were always left sulking in his shadow. 

“I’m sorry.” But it’s more than that. 

You feel stupid for expecting anything deeper. “Is that all you have to-“

He cuts you off, trying to articulate the words and form reason. “No, there’s more. God- let me just think.” You hear how badly he needs to get it out, and you stay quiet, having let all of your anger out already. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m not going to apologize for all of the things I’ve achieved,” he says firmly. “Because that’s never how things were for me- I have no reason to feel bad about what I did.” And you can respect him for standing his ground in a situation full of misunderstanding. “I never did it to hurt you, and I never did it to get in your face and show I was better. But I’m sorry for hurting you unintentionally. I’m sorry I never realized that those things were just as important to you, and I’m sorry for always assuming the worst when we’d talk. I’m sorry I never apologized, and held all of this against you, and made this thing between us worse than it was supposed to be. And, I’m sorry, too, about the macarons. That was stupid. I really should’ve known.”

You feel overwhelmed, your mind trying to undo the years of built up feelings towards him under the assumption that he meant to do those things. “I thought you did it because you genuinely didn’t want to see me happy. Like that time you did the extra credit in biology just so you could score better than me.” You breathe, words coming out without really realizing what you’re saying. “Or like that time in first grade where you spilled your applesauce on me, and never apologized. I kept thinking, what the fuck did I do to deserve it? What had I done to make you feel like we had to compete?” Your open ended questions continue to resonate within your co-worker’s mind, and the more you ramble, the more he sees just how twisted he looks. 

“In first grade, that was because the boys said I’d get cooties if I went to talk to you. Believe me, ____, I tried. But every single time I try to fix things between us, you never let me, I swear.” 

It’s your turn to be confused, swearing that you never saw him apologize. “When have you ever tried to be nice to me?” 

“I tried to let stuff go. Like all the little things we’d say about each other- I tried to understand why you were always so unhappy around me. But you always said I was meddling in your business or that I just wanted to find another way to get under your skin.” 

It settles, then, the realization that you’ve turned him into the villain a bit more than you should’ve. You know there’s always been mutual dislike- there are certain times where you know Heeseung had it out for you, with his sneers, his comments or the way he’d smile at your defeat- but you weren’t a saint either. There were other times that maybe, he wasn’t out to get you, but you were always so consumed with the idea of hating Lee Heeseung that you hated the idea of him being a decent person, too. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, leaving your emotions to witness. “I really should’ve paid attention to your genuine efforts back then, too.”

And you’re not the only one who’s at a loss for words this time. Heeseung is in uncharted territory, unsure of how to process the way you’re apologizing, and being so open. And he’s antagonized you too; made you out to be a mood killer and party pooper in every event imaginable, despising the idea of being around you because you two always disagree somehow. 

“But, why do you do it? Why do you come here if it’s really anything personal?” 

He answers in the only way he sees fit. “I want to help her out, she’s always cooked for our family, she’s let me come over a few times, just little things for my family and I. I never meant to take your grandma away from you like that, I promise. She’s just so kind, and she cares so much about me, so of course I want to care for her, too. I just didn’t think it’d be at the expense of you.”

Despite still feeling hurt, you nod, trying to be mature and talking about it rather than burying it deep. “All I hear about is how she wants you to come, and how she never needs my help anymore because she has you already volunteering. It’s like I barely mean anything to her.” Your words sting for Heeseung, but not because there’s any anger directed at him. Heeseung feels a pang of relatability in his chest, the inability to ever be enough for those around you gnawing away at your self-esteem. 

He shakes his head, begging you silently to understand. “She doesn’t want you to work so hard.” He starts, running a hand through his hair. “She tells me about how she’s worried if you’re eating, or if you’re stressed. She’s watched you through-out your whole life, ____. All she’s ever wanted was for you to finally enjoy the summer you worked so hard for.”

“I just wish it felt that way.” You admit.

To hear such high praise from his lips feels foreign- the idea of Lee Heeseung noticing how hard you’ve worked, realizing the amount of effort you’ve put into your standing and accomplishments, it’s weird. You know he understands completely how stressful it’s all been, considering he was stuck to your side the whole time in highschool whether you liked it or not. Lee Heeseung has worked hard, if not harder, than you, and for him to be able to admit that is so much different than what your perception of him would think. It’s awkward to meet his gaze, and his small smile eases the tension a little when you laugh at his attempt to soothe things out. 

“I feel dumb, for thinking so horribly of you. I honestly never thought you looked at me like I was an equal, just someone you could surpass.” He shakes his head, about to reach out and grab your wrist before he realizes just how intimate it would be. 

“You’re not dumb, _____. You never have been. I’ve always looked up to you.” 

There are knots in your chest- the ones that make it feel as tight and hard to breathe as you do right now- that slowly become untangled the more he speaks of you. His words undo them, little by little, and even if it takes a long time to fix the rift between you two, at least you know you have help. 

Internally, your heart begs you to ask. “Why do you even care?” 

He pauses, mulling over his words, and looking for a proper response. “I don’t know.” He sighs. “I just want to, we’ve been around each other since we were kids, and if there was someone who I’d hope to have by my side, whether or not we’re close, it was you.” 

Your breath hitches at his confession, and your mind runs in a hundred different directions, without ever expecting those words to tumble from his lips. You promise yourself to do things differently from now on, not trusting your words to continue the conversation. 

“We should finish unpacking.” And the rest is that. 

When you two leave to go home, the old tension feels different- lighter, almost. As much as you know he would do things to get on your nerves, never understanding just why you were so negative and brooding around him, your perception of him wasn’t the best, either. And still, you may be a bit mad at him, and not exactly friendly, but at least you’ve both let go of the unspoken baggage.  

When you sit in the passenger seat, you’re less inclined to turn away and face the window, and make small talk with the radio on. 

Things aren’t perfect- the years of hurt he’s done to you doesn’t dissipate in a day, but it’s getting better, and you can only hope it continues that way. 

A week passes between the two of you, and time flows easier now that you two talked things out. You don’t dread going to work, and you didn’t refuse when he offered to buy food on the way home a few days ago. Sure, some topics between you two are sore, and you’re not best of friends, but it’s light years ahead of what it was like before. 

You can never truly get rid of the banter between you two- there are clever insults you’ve crafted in your head that you love to see his reaction to, and you’re just the right person for Heeseung to bicker with. 

“Do you ever stop drinking that soy milk?” Your coworker asks. You nurse your cup, keeping it close as you rush to defend your end of shift drink. “You’re like, a baby.”

“It’s lactose free. And a very good basic drink.” You explain, frowning at yet another large cup of taro tea he holds in his hands. “Your drink probably tastes like nothing.” 

He holds it out, and you raise an eyebrow. “Just use the same straw,” he insists. You truly don’t mind, but it’s so weird now to know that Heeseung, like, your friend. But you take a sip anyways, cringing at how your suspicions were right- There’s barely a hint of sweetness in there. 

“Don’t make that face!” He comments when you grimace, and also feels the need to protect his opinion on 15% sweet options. 

“Anyways,” you change the subject, determined to get him to see your sweet tooth ways. “Help me make some creme brûlée for my grandma. I’ve never tried.” And he sets his cup down, and for the first time possibly, Heeseung joins you to do something. 

“It should be easy, right?” He says, and with a look of determination, you set off. 

“Heat the cream.” You tell him, reading the instructions from your phone. 

He retorts lightly, “So rude.” and you turn around to scoff, all in good fun. 

“You’re insufferable.” And he tilts his head, offering you a small pouty smile when he turns on the stove. 

The mood feels so much less stuffy than it did before when he says, “Must suck to always hate me like how you do.” 

“I have an egg yolk in my hand that i’m willing to throw at you.” He chuckles, and peers over at your bowl. 

“You’re pretty good at that.” He notes, and you fight the urge to beam at his compliment for your yolk-separation skills. After he’s poured in enough cream, he grabs the sugar and a measuring spoon, fishing your phone out from beside you and reading the measurements. 

He adds so much less than what the recipe says, and you only know this because when you glance over, the scale reads a number much lower than 65 grams. 

“Heeseung,” You call out, in a playfully stern manner, and the boy in question turns around like he’s been caught. “Bring back the sugar.” 

“We’ve run out.” He says, the lie appearing as a wide smile on his face. Unconvinced, you walk over, and in turn, he holds the jar up out of your reach. You refuse to reach for it, knowing that the boy in front of you is much taller, but also that you don’t want to break the glass with some horseplay.

Your voice goes from demanding to reasoning. “Give it back. God, I can’t stand you and all of your low sugar preferences. The sugar is literally needed for the texture!” He simply shakes his head, walking over to add just one more unmeasured spoonful. “You didn’t even weigh it.” 

Heeseung mocks you- a high-pitched and garbled version that follows the intonation of your words, and you let out a surprised scoff at his immaturity. Getting a whisk, you make sure the newly added sugar is fully dissolved. He returns with the pot of cream that bubbles slowly, with an oven mitt around the hot handle. Without a look in your direction, Heeseung holds out his arm between you and the heated cream, and it really doesn’t do much- but yet, at the same time, it does. It’s something he does subconsciously; and something you do your best not to pay attention to in order to properly reach for the whisk.

He slaps your hand away lightly, and you mumble an ‘ow!’ in response. “Don’t touch that. Let me whisk it. It’s hot.” He reprimands gently.

Yeah, you’re still doing your best not to pay attention to it. 

When the mixture transforms from a deep yellow to a pale banana color, he leans down and checks the side of the bowl for any egg and sugar he’s missed. “Here,” you reach out. “Let me get the pot.” Heeseung glances up, and shakes his head quickly.

“No it’s okay-“ and it happens quickly, the hand that was whisking leaves to swat your hand away, but it instead makes contact with the rim of the metal appliance when he doesn’t pay attention to where his hand is placed. Although Heeseung only hisses quietly at the pain, you immediately feel bad. 

“Just give it to me,” you demand, and pry the pot out of his hand to let him nurse his wound, leaving it in the sink and quickly going to the medicine cabinet for burn relief cream- the same one you used a few weeks ago. After you grab it, you return to him, reaching out your hand and waiting for him to show you the puffy red skin. 

He slowly puts his hand on your palm, and you twist around his finger to apply the ointment, doing your best to spread it without pressing too hard. 

“Thank you.” 

You glare. “Don’t hold hot things if you’re not fully attending to them.” And he puts his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. 

“I’ll be preparing your ramekins, boss.” The nickname has a nice ring to it. 

When it’s done, the creme brûlée comes out with a slight wobble in the middle, indicating a well-cooked perfection. “Grab the blowtorch!” You shove him into the direction of where it is, and he complies. You sprinkle sugar over five of the six dishes, using a spoon to shape the sugar in the last dish into a heart since you thought it looks cute. 

Heeseung comes back from your right, leaning over to watch you intently. “A heart? You make it seem like you’re in love, or something.” He jokes, evading a jab with your right elbow. 

“Shut up.” 

“You shut up.”

“You argue like a-“ you’re about to finish your sentence with ‘child,’ but when you turn your head (in hopes that saying it directly would add more emphasis), you’re face to face with Heeseung, with a proximity between you two that’s far less than expected. 

He takes a quick step away, and you glance somewhere else with a nervousness in your eye. 

Neither of you say anything, not really sure if you should apologize or if he should, and you return to your current task, a small churning turning in your stomach. You take a step back to let him caramelize the sugar, and he holds the blowtorch with his non-burned hand. 

It’s good, is the only thing you think when you crack the sugar and scoop a bit, admiring the texture. When you and Heeseung finished one each, you begin to clean up and wash the equipment you used. 

“It’s late, _____. I’ll take you home.” He states the obvious, and for what?

“How else am I supposed to get back?” You laugh, and in response, he shrugs. 

“Just a reminder as to which one of us is so graciously kind to drive you too and from the bakery almost everyday.”

“If I had a choice, I could’ve easily taken my own car. You know my grandma needs it for her errands. Like her Wednesday bingo night, or whatever.” He chuckles, holding the door open and unlocking the car. 

Being in the same space as Lee Heeseung isn’t as excruciating as how it used to be- and now, it’s just an opportunity for you to finally ask your burning questions. 

“Heeseung, I’m just curious. How did you even meet my grandma?” 

He furrows his eyebrows. “I think it was the mailbox,” he starts, trying to remember. “She dropped her mail, and it blew out into the street, so I went to get it for her. And on the walk back, she just started asking me questions. Apparently she and my mom were closer than I thought.”

“And that’s how you started working?” 

“First, it was community service. Just using the cash register- since we’re cashless, it’s nothing illegal to have me manage orders.”

“And she just thought you were an angel from the get-go, or something?” 

“Who doesn’t?” And you glare, mocking him like what he did to you earlier. Heeseung’s lips curl into a grin at your antics, never taking it to heart. 

“Me, obviously.” And it’s a half-lie, because secretly, Heeseung isn’t so bad. 

“Well,” he starts, motioning. “I don’t think there’s anything I do or could do that you’d like.” 

You splutter, “That’s not true!” And he raises an eyebrow at your indignant words. 

“Name one thing that you like about me.” 

“No!” You refuse, crossing your arms. “You already have a large enough ego from the teachers.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes at you, tapping his hands tapping on the wheel impatiently. “That’s lame, ____. You’re just further proving my point.” 

With a sigh, you tell him, “I like how you helped us win in Taboo.” And he gives you a look. 

“Cop-out.” 

“What-? No!” Emptying your brain, you try to find something you truly like about the boy who makes life a living hell- or, well, used to (he still kind of does). “Okay, fine. I like that you care about my grandma.” 

Heeseung stays kind of quiet, not really sure what to do now that you’re once again being sincere. “Well, she’s like- the only person who doesn’t expect something from me.” 

Confusion floods your thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“I’m grateful for everyone in my life,” He prefaces. “But it’s no fun having to always work for people’s approval, sometimes, I wish that someone could just appreciate me for me, and that’s how your grandma is. No expectations with her. She’s just happy I’m still around- which, I know, is bare minimum, but at least I don’t have to try so hard for her to like me.” The light turns green, and the car rumbles as he slowly accelerates.

You mull over his confession. “Do I expect something from you then, too?”

“You expect me to perform well, because I always have- and therefore, I have to do well, or else you’ll just rub it in my face.” He states plainly, and you grimace for the second time today. 

“Sorry, I won’t do that anymore.” Heeseung waves you off. 

“It’s no big deal- plus, you weren’t the only one who thought I’d do well all the time. It’s something everyone thought of me. If anything, you were the one who just motivated me to always work harder.” 

“But isn’t that a good thing? To be the best?” 

He shakes his head and when you take a good look at him, Heeseung has a glassy look in his eye. “Sometimes, yes. A lot of the time, no. I just want to do well without anyone forcing that on to me. I don’t want the expectation to be perfect, because then, it’s so much easier for me to stumble.” You don’t realize just how much weight Heeseung carries on his back from the words of his peers and his family. And to you, he resembles a diamond; perfect, but from pressure. 

“Well, from now on, I won’t expect it from you. And if I do better, then I won’t rub it in your face. So that’ll make two people you won’t have to worry about.” The response he gives you is non-verbal, but his change in expression is first laced with surprise, and then silent appreciation.

“Thanks,” he says, once again at a loss for words. “I appreciate it.” 

You send Heeseung a smile, understanding how it feels to always have to do good. You can only hope that he gets his break from the pressure before he burns out. 

“Oh, I should tell you now. I can’t make it next Friday. I have plans, and I’d figure I’d let you know now so you could find someone to replace me.” He announces. When he looks over to see your response, you nod in understanding.

“What are you doing?” 

“Grad party.” Heeseung says plainly. “It’s Jake’s, so if I’m hungover, I’ll try to let you know if I’ll be good by morning.” 

“So considerate.” You comment, albeit a bit teasing. He scoffs, making the final turn before reaching your house. “To be expected from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He questions. “And what kind of person am I?”

“Someone who’s going to have to work alone for the next two weeks if he doesn’t shut up.” He laughs, his eyes scrunching up as unlocks the car. “Thanks for the ride.” 

“Of course, ____.”

A few days go by, but one morning, you walk outside to see Heeseung parked in his car, scrolling on his phone- and it takes you walking up to him to roll the window down. 

“You didn’t even text me you were coming,” you start, pouting slightly. 

Heeseung pats the passenger side. “Just- get in, will you?” And you comply, never one to refuse a free trip to work. 

“So why today?” You ask, fiddling with your fingers and bag. “You usually never pick me up on Thursdays.”

“Since it’s your grandma’s birthday and all, I figured I could just pick you up, and drop you off. She called me yesterday asking to come over, and invite my parents, too. And they couldn’t come because of a work trip, but I promised her.” 

You stay silent. “Fuck, that’s today?” And Heeseung laughs- not at you, just at the situation. 

He nods, eyes still glued to the road. “Have you decided what you want to get her?”

“Flowers, definitely. Probably these treats she’s been thinking about getting from the store. I have this really nice collection of kitchen appliances that I know she’ll like.” And you’re rambling, but Heeseung makes no effort to stop you. “She loves to peel stuff by hand, but I was trying this thing out in the store and it actually works perfectly. Here, I’ll pull it up.” And he takes a quick look at the overpriced appliance, realizing that you also care immensely, but in different ways. “I still need to get her stuff, though- I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get to the flower shop if they close when we close.” And it leaves you dejected, since you know what flowers are her favorite, and how happy she’d be if she saw them on the table for a while. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Heeseung promises, and you nod, believing his words. 

You close a bit earlier than usual, and Heeseung writes on a small sticky note for patrons to come tomorrow. The bakery closes at 8:00 PM everyday, and usually 30 minutes can’t hurt- or at least, you hope it doesn’t. 

When you continue to anxiously check the clock, he comes to your side, rubbing your shoulder and telling you that “30 minutes is plenty of time.” 

“We have to walk there though, and clean up. There’s virtually no parking there ever since that other place opened up nearby.” And he curses, not taking something like that into consideration. While you might be ending earlier, you can’t just leave anything out in fear that someone’s going to try and break in, but you also don’t have nearly enough time to properly wash the dishes and wipe down the tables and counters. Instead, you both opt for putting away the large equipment and the food, turning off the lights so anyone who looks in gets the impression it’s closed with the lack of displays or people around. Then, you two can come back to finish organizing and preparing for tomorrow. 

His reassurance is easy to listen to, and Heeseung’s ability to figure out a plan is comforting in and of itself. You’re grateful he’s even willing to come with. 

“You can just wait in the car, really-“ 

Heeseung looks at you like you’re mad. “We talked about this,” he pressed. “It’s dangerous to go out alone. I have nothing to do in the car anyways.”

Finally, you shut off the lights and start dragging Heeseung’s arm, who’s still taking the key out of the lock as he’s being taken away by your impatience. Setting off in a brisk walk, you continue to check your phone, trying to beat time. Heeseung promises you once more that it’ll be okay, and you ask him what he got for your grandma to change the conversation. You both know her well, and your gifts reflect what qualities you care for most. You realize that Heeseung always keeps others in the back of his mind- like his thoughtful gift to Sunoo, with a handwritten card that Sunoo read a bit of to you guys before Heeseung stopped the further embarrassment. You didn’t realize it then, but the people in his life feel wanted all the time because he has the love to give them. 

You get there barely five minutes before 8:00 PM, and the discontent that washes over the shop owner’s face is apparent. “We’re closed,” she says, and you can’t imagine it’s easy to stay by yourself in a room so stuffy and full of pollen. You walk up to her with Heeseung following behind you, observing the way you practically beg for her to let you find some flowers. You promise you won’t take long, and she sighs, unraveling some of the wrapping paper she knows you’ll want. 

There aren’t many left now that the day is over- and you wonder what kind of people frequent the flower shops. Is it apologetic husbands trying to win over their disappointed wives? Is it children buying flowers for their parents and elders? Or is it people like you and Heeseung, who want to gift it to someone they care about?

“Can you trim the thorns?” And she shakes her head, continuing to ring your bouquet up. You feel horrible, understanding exactly how it feels when someone at the bakery asks for something so grandiose near closing, when your social battery has depleted and you don’t have any more smiles to give. And you know this, but you’re willing to go above and beyond if the shop owner is okay with it. The effort she’s put in already to cut the papers and ribbons to accentuate the flowers is already plenty, but it’s your grandma, and you make sure to come back to support her generously again. 

“Please,” you exhale, desperation and anger mixing in your tone. “I’ll pay extra.” With that, the shop owner sighs, taking your forty dollars and looking up as she opens the cash register. “Just keep it.” You say, in apology for earlier. She doesn’t decline the offer, and slides the crumpled bill into the slot with the rest of them, and ties a purple ribbon around the bouquet. 

You almost forget that he watches the whole ordeal, until the owner of the flower shop mutters a “couples these days” under her breath, and your eyes widen.

With profuse thanks, you grab the neatly wrapped flowers and leave, but the moment you turn the corner, you gawk. “Did you hear what she said?”

“That we’re a couple?” Heeseung brushes it off like it’s nothing. “Yeah. But- what kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t the one paying for them?” 

Heeseung paying for flowers to give to you- it’s a thought that leaves you quiet as your feet follow the same steps you took to get there. Of course he would- and you wonder if you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of it from him- or, actually, anyone for that matter. You’re not sure your mind automatically wants such a sweet gesture from Lee Heeseung himself.

“Thank you for coming, again.” 

“Quit worrying about bothering me,” and it’s like he can read your mind. “Believe it or not, I don’t mind being around you.” His sarcastic comment still holds that undercurrent of honesty, and it’s like he knows just what you need to hear. 

The walk back is much less stressful than the walk to. It falls back to that simple dynamic between two people who have begun to tolerate each other, full of little insults, hits to the side, and laughing. You finally make it back, and the sun paints the sky with swirling blue and pink. The sunset illuminates Heeseung’s side profile as he unlocks the door again, and when you finally pay attention to his jawline, or the gentle purse of his lips in concentration, you come to the conclusion that Heeseung is more than easy on the eyes. 

And as you two clean up, the flowers sit in the passenger seat; a symbol of care for your grandmother, and Lee Heeseung’s time well spent with you.

The trips with leftovers become more frequent, and his parents always remember who you are every time you come bearing gifts. “____!” They exclaim, returning the old tupperware with more dishes on top. It feels like at this point, your grandma cooks for them, and they cook for her just as much. 

“Go bother Heeseung, won’t you? We have dinner in a moment, but he’s been so busy with his work.” You smile at her, curious as to what he even has to do now that school’s over. “It’s the room to your left when you go up.” 

You knock on his door and he yells in response, telling you to come in. Under the assumption that it’s his family, Heeseung goes wide-eyed when he notices it’s you in his messy room with his pajamas and old t-shirts strewn here and there. 

“I did not expect it to be you,” he mumbles, quickly getting out of his chair to fix his covers and pick up a sock. A laugh bubbles from your throat with the way he’s scrambling to make things presentable right before you. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be staying long anyways. Your mom told me to drag you downstairs because you were too invested in your work.” He looks sheepish as he mumbles a quick apology, and after the quick tidying, he shuts his laptop and organizes his desk. “What do you even have to do anyways?” 

“I’m just making music- I started this internship with an entertainment company where they let me shadow a producer and offer input on some unreleased songs for their artists- so I’m just looking at the tracks and making demos.” 

“They let you do that? I figured shadowing wasn’t possible for a company so big.” He nods, a smile dusting his features, and you can tell he takes pride in what he’s accomplished.

You’re about to ask more, but a call of your names from downstairs leaves you two quickly walking down. 

“Have dinner with us!” His dad tells you, and you want to tell him you already ate a bit, but the noodles look delicious, and you agree to only eat a little bit. You glance over at Heeseung, but he offers a small smile as he pulls out a chair for you. 

And so it begins again, but just without your grandmother. 

“____, what are you planning to do in the future?” Heeseung’s dad starts. 

“I’m planning to study Biology in the fall at uni.” You start. “I had an internship last summer before senior year, and I really learned a lot from it, so I knew what I wanted to do by the time I applied for schools.” His mother praises you, as all Asian mothers do, and you can see why Heeseung is so kind-hearted by the way his parents speak to you. 

The conversation naturally switches from your plans to Heeseung’s, as they talk about his pursuit in music production. 

“I’m sure he’s doing a good job, I’m always in classes with him, and there’s nothing you need to worry about.”

His mother continues, however. “I mean, there’s always ways kids can get ahead. I always tell him to apply for things early, and he could’ve gotten more scholarships and finished his internship last summer if he wasn’t so behind. But he’s doing it now, so there's nothing we can say about it.” Her words rub you the wrong way immensely. While your own parents were never the most involved in your high school academics and were supportive of any career path you chose, they never placed an expectation on you to do the best and overachieve. But you get the sense that for Heeseung, no matter how supportive they were, it was never really good enough. It’s torturous.

But, you don’t really know how to respond, humming to ease the growing silence instead. “That’s always true, but I know a lot of people look up to him, including me. He’s doing great regardless of when he does it.” No matter how gently you put it, you know it’s in total opposition to how they think and feel when it comes to their own son, but you can only hope that it helps ease the tension.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, with the discussion of your summer and how things have been with friends, parties, and planned trips. You finish their food quickly, complimenting Heeseung’s mother’s cooking once again and watching her face light up. 

“You should head home, we don’t want your grandma to be too worried.” His dad starts, and you agree, quick to grab your bag. Heeseung takes the containers from your hand and starts putting on his sandals. “I’ll walk you home.” Despite your refusal to let him carry your things, he insists, and you miss the way his mom stares fondly at you two from the kitchen island. 

The warm summer air gives you the illusion that it’s not so late, and with the way light still peaks from the horizon, you feel less tired the later the summer nights get. 

The boy next to you speaks up first. “Did you mean it?” You sneak a glance at his relaxed posture, a hand in his sweatpants and bangs on his forehead. 

“What part?” 

“Any part.” 

You nod, feeling almost incredulous that he thought you’d make up something like that after you two agreed to be on good terms.

“Of course, Hee- I wouldn’t lie about that stuff, especially not to your parents.” 

“I’m sorry about them, by the way.” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “They have high expectations sometimes, I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable to hear them talk about me like that so openly.” The first instinct you have is to reach for his shoulder, making eye contact with him and offering a semblance of comfort before you walk across the street. 

“No, you don’t need to apologize for stuff like that. I’m sorry your parents hold you to those kinds of expectations.” 

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.” 

“But the problem is, you shouldn’t have to be used to it. You’ve genuinely done so much and you deserve some recognition rather than someone always telling you to do better.”

It goes quiet, but you don’t choose to bring anything else up, enjoying the crickets chirping and the gentle breeze that carries you home. 

You stop outside your door and unlock it, inviting him in to say hi to your grandmother.

“Thank you,” you tell him as he’s leaving. “For walking me home.” 

Heeseung simply shakes his head. “It was nothing, really. Thank you for seeing my parents again and whatnot.” He smiles, waving at you before walking back, and a grin makes its way onto your face before you even notice it. 

Your phone dings at an hour earlier than you expected to get up, and it leaves you in an annoyed mood while you turn off your alarms.

hee: dude you HAVE to come in we just got a huge order for triple chocolate cake they said they’d pay extra if we finished by today

y/n: help wtf r u doing at the bakery 

hee: i was making brownies i asked ur grandma this morning if i could

y/n: what for…

hee: because i had a craving ??? what else..

y/n: oh LOL ok ill be there in 30

Originally, you and Heeseung were going to have the day off, and your aunt and grandma were going to work instead- but the tempting offer from Heeseung leaves you explaining why you have to come in for work, and that they should stay at home. You say anything that comes to mind, but they know you wouldn’t let them come with the way you were dressed and already grabbing your shoes and keys.

When you finally rush to the doors, you see Heeseung cutting into the chocolate treats, and when you two make eye contact, he shoves the piece in his mouth and nods. 

“Gross.” You comment, laughing. 

He says something intangible, and you shake your head, putting on your apron.

The amount of work you two have put in is simply criminal to be fake, and the day off you have is getting darker the longer you two stay.

You voice your concerns. “Do you think they’re lying about the tip?What they told you seems like much.” 

Heeseung shrugs, and sprinkles sea salt over the piece he picks up. “I’d hope it’s true. They seemed pretty desperate. I called them back today telling them their order would be done soon, so if they show up and pay more, that’d be great.” 

“I’m glad you’re so optimistic.” You laugh. 

“I have to be, because you’re definitely not.” Heeseung laughs when he sees the scowl on your face. 

“Oh yeah? I think I’m at least a little better than the time you spilled the tapioca pearls and then talked about how everyone had it out for you that day.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Between the two of us, I’ll always hear you saying ‘fuck, i dropped the spoon’ more.” His teasing has you smiling. 

“Focus on your lettering. Or do you need someone to hold your hand and help you?” You lean over to look at him spelling CONGRATS with brown icing. “You messed up.” Nitpicking, you point out a random loop and make fun of him for it despite it not looking bad at all. 

“I did not!” He huffs defensively. “I want to see you try.” He passes you the bag, and you get a piece of plastic wrap on the counter before starting. 

“Lee Heeseung sucks.” He reads. “Did you seriously write that?” You laugh at how offended he is, and the boy next to you is quick to pull the bag from your hand to start piping. halfway through the word ‘hate,’ you elbow his side, and it causes his letter ‘t’ to be dragged too far.

“Hey!” He runs over, smearing a bit of icing on your forehead before you duck and try to avoid all his other attacks. The laughs bubble from your stomach, the adrenaline causing you two to chase each other around the kitchen. You’re not even sure what Heeseung would do if he catches you, but you don’t want to find out. 

“I think we should package those cakes!” You remind him, albeit as a distraction. He sighs, crossing his arms in defeat before agreeing and heading back over. You narrowly avoid his glare, a wide smile on your face as you hum in victory. It’s a bit past closing, and he makes sure to flip the sign, still keeping the light on. 

The customer rings the phone, telling Heeseung that she’ll be there in a few minutes. By the time you’ve boxed all three cakes and cleaned up any edges, she walks in. You ring her up at the counter, and she pulls out her largest bills, telling you to take the change as a gift. You two both thank her immensely, making sure she can carry the cakes out to her car before closing for the night. 

When Heeseung enters through the front door, immediately you start cheering. “We just got paid tonight, Hee!” 

The boy grins, subtracting the total from the amount she gave, and it’s clear that she was being serious when she said she would pay extra. “I think this calls for celebration.” 

You don’t really have an excuse to see him outside of work, and the idea of being alone in a non-bakery setting feels scarily new. 

And you’re about to make up an excuse about how you have to be home (you don’t), but your stomach makes a low sound, and it serves as an answer in place of your faltering words. 

“I’m thinking Korean.”

You don’t expect to learn something new about Lee Heeseung, until you see him order two bowls of stir fried ramen despite the restaurant serving much more elegant dishes. 

“Ramen?” A glance at the menu has you reading one of the more expensive meals offered. “You could’ve had- I don’t know, their Honey Garlic Short Ribs.” 

He scrunches his nose in disapproval as a testament to how much he adores his instant noodles. “It’s just not the same. We barely have noodles at home, since my mom always insists on making it from scratch or boiling them in those big packages. Never just ramen.” You take a sip of your water, surprised. 

“You don’t have ramen? God, come over more often, I’ll make you some.” You suggest lightheartedly. 

He glances over, taking you up on the offer. “Woah- me, in your space?” You send him a glare, looking away and ignoring his laughs. 

The food comes relatively quickly, and he looks over what you’ve gotten to judge it. “It looks good. Let me have some.” He says, reaching over with his wooden chopsticks. 

You gasp at his suddenness, quick to refuse and to drag your plate away from him as you pick up a short rib and eat it before he can. The meat tastes wonderfully marinated and tender, and you don’t realize that the haphazard way you tried to eat it left some sauce on your mouth. Heeseung glances over with a frown, about to comment on how incredibly stingy you are until he notices there’s red sauce on your chin, and grabs his tissue. 

“Here.” He says, tapping you on the shoulder. And silently, he wipes it off, to make sure you won’t have to walk around with people seeing and saying anything. 

“Oh- thanks.” It’s pathetic the way your throat dries up, and how you force yourself to drink your water and move on. You hear about this only in movies- about male leads you turn to burns and wax poetic about how much they love you. You don’t expect it to happen so suddenly.

“Is yours any good?” You ask, averting your gaze. His fried eggs and boiled shrimp sit neatly on his stir fried noodles, the presentation better than you could ever make it at home. 

With a shrug, he replies, “We’ll see.” He tries some, and you see a satisfied grin on his features. 

“Is ramen really that good, Hee?” His enthusiastic nods tell you all you need to know as you continue eating, your pile of bones growing ever so slowly. You two make small talk, about his recent beach trip, or about you rafting with your friends. He talks of college- about going away and his fears of growing up. You tell him you’re scared to dorm, since you’ve been around your family for so long, and you share each other’s sentiments about the rapidly approaching adulthood you’ll both have to face. It’s nice like this, not to bicker and to argue and to despise him. It’s nice to just exist around Lee Heeseung, and you wonder why you haven’t done something like this before- sitting next to him and being able to talk freely about the interests and questions you share. 

You guess that it was just the timing- you were both always so stressed from school, unable to properly sit down to sort out your emotions. And yeah- summer is a new slate, and this year feels just a bit more life-changing than the rest of them. 

“You eat so slow.” And you shoot him yet another scowl, picking up some rice. 

“You ordered ramen and you eat like you’ve been starved for three years.” 

“Whatever. I’ll cover the bill?” 

Narrowing your eyes, you try to remember if you two had discussed anything about payments before. “No- I thought we were just going to split the bill.”

He doesn’t seem to care too much. “I’ll pay for you, since I couldn’t have done it without you,” refering to all the baking you did today.  

Exasperated, you refute his horrible reasoning. “I wouldn’t have even found out about her order if you weren’t there. Just let me split it.” You reach out expectantly, and he retracts the receipt, clutching it close. 

“Just pay me back sometime for something else,” and it’s the last thing he says before turning on his heel and leaving you with your agape. 

When you clean up and join him in the car, the first thing you tell him is that he’s ‘annoying,’ and ‘so stubborn it hurts.’ 

Heeseung just laughs at you, telling you it’s nothing special- like he’s used to paying for others. And thinking about how many people come in to ask him for his number or hope for a date, your assumption makes sense- that he does these things for everyone, and you’re not an outlier in any way. 

When the bakery is one chestnut haired boy short, things are much less interesting. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me.” You joke when Heeseung begins to undo his apron. 

“You can come,” He offers with a small yet sincere smile on his face. “I asked, you all know each other anyways.” You feel your heart stir with the way Heeseung keeps you in his thoughts. 

All you do is refuse his offer. “I have to rewatch my rom-coms.” You wave him off, and within minutes, you’re left alone. The quiet music plays and the bell jingles every so often as patrons come for pick-up orders or drinks. Thankfully it was slow for a Friday, and you weren’t rushing around the shop.

There’s a girl who’s around your age who walks in, curious as to who’s taking her order before making eye contact with you emerging from behind the curtain. 

“Where’s the boy you usually work with?” She says, getting a list of what her and her friends wanted. “I’ve been meaning to ask for his number.” 

You can’t lie and say you’re indifferent to her question, but nonetheless, you take her order and give her his phone number saved in his contact. “He’s not dating anyone, so don’t worry.” You tell her, handing over the receipt. She smiles, and your heart tightens a little at the thought of Heeseung. One of you two is well-liked, one out of the two of you is perfect in every way, and it wasn’t you. 

Without any of your usual weekly plans with your friends, the drive home was quiet as you figured out what to do for the weekend. You would feel bad every time your grandma had to take a shift despite her recovering quickly, and despite her being excited to work again. When home, you decide to make dinner, change, clean up around the house, and retreat to your old room. The show you were catching up on until the wee hours of night was interrupted, and a familiar contact flashes on the screen. 

“Heeseung?” You ask, confused. It’s 12:00 AM. 

“____-ie.” The line giggles a bit before you hear some shuffling. “My head hurts.” 

You’re a bit shocked to hear him like this, but you’re not going to hang up on him and leave him confused. “Did you drink too much?” You ask, trying to choose your words carefully. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung responds, sighing. “I lost a bet, _____. And I lost cup pong, too.” He sounds dejected, like a hurt puppy as he elongates his syllables and pauses between thoughts. “I was going to tell you something.” 

“That you can’t come in for work tomorrow? You sound out of it, Heeseung.” 

He groans, and more shuffling comes from his side. “Yeah, but I can’t drive, ____-ie.” You cringe at the nickname, but refuse to say anything about it with the way he’s acting now.  “No one else can take me home, and my parents can’t know.” He sounds stressed, and you’re quick to reassure him before he starts crying. 

“Where are you?” 

“You’ll pick me up?” Heeseung asks, his tone filled with elation. 

“Maybe. Depends on how I feel in the next 10 minutes.” 

“I’ll cover your shifts anytime, I’ll drive you home, I’ll buy food for you, I’ll sneak you out…” He continues to ramble about all the favors he could do for you, and you laugh before getting out of bed.  

“You better mean it.” 

“I want to see you.” You know he just wants to go home, you know he doesn’t mean anything else with his words. You know he just wants to sober up and go to sleep. 

You know it’s nothing more between you two, yet your heart still beats wildly with every minute you drive, the words echoing in your head. 

“I got you water, and some food- I have no idea if you ate or not.” Is the first thing you tell him when he stumbles out of the house and into your car. 

Heeseung’s one drowsy blink away from falling asleep, and you have to shake him away to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep with a hangover. “Hee!” You rush to park on a random sidewalk before unbuckling your seatbelt. 

You brush back his red hair, pushing his curly bangs away and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He slowly blinks, adjusting to the proximity between you two. You shove a water bottle in his hand before getting a tissue to wipe the light sheen off of his skin. 

“What are you doing, hm?” And his voice, rough with exhaustion, has you quiet for a moment as your skin gets hot. 

Despite your heart thrumming faster, you force yourself to answer simply. “You’re going to have a hangover.” 

He opens his water, drinking almost a third before he leans back. “My head still hurts.” He whines, and you have to laugh. 

“Here,” you suggest, opening the tupperware of fried rice. “Eat.” 

He refuses, continuing to drink from his water, and you don’t have it in you to be annoyed at him. Instead, you grab a spoon. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” You mumble, starting to break up the fried egg and mix it all together.

After the first bite, “It’s good,” He says simply. “I’m glad I got to see you.” 

You feel the incessant pounding in your eardrums and your whole face feels hot. “Eat, before you throw up.” 

“I missed you.” Despite the harmless intention, you can’t stand to let Heeseung sweet-talk you, and it almost frustrates you to know there’s no weight to his words.

You roll your eyes at him and force him to finish his water. “Sober up before you get home.” 

In the quiet of the night, in the small neighborhood with everyone asleep, no one would know about the loudness of your chest, about how his eyes still hold his twinkle as he gazes tiredly at you, letting him dote on him. 

You continue to make sure he drinks and eats, and you’re so engrossed in taking care of him that you don’t realize how little the distance is between you. Making eye contact with him leaves you stunned into silence, but Heeseung says nothing to dispel what’s between you two. He reaches up, his palm cupping your jaw, and you swear, past the alcohol, there’s the faint fresh scent of the ocean, one that you recognize from being around him so often. 

You hold your breath, keeping the box in your steady as you wait for what he’s about to do next. He stares in silent question, glancing only to your lips and back up. It’s like time doesn’t even pass anymore, like a moment written in eternity when you brush away some of his hair.

You swear you’re about to kiss Lee Heeseung for the first time in your life. 

Instead, you cough and duck from his intimate stare, and he pulls away. The heat of his thumb still lingers on your cheek, and the way he looks at you doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“You’re feeling better, right? I’ll drive you home.” 

The wind whips against your window and the streets lay bare as you turn into his neighborhood. It’s all you can do. You can’t be in love, not with Heeseung. 

Heeseung texts you profusely the next day, apologizing before he leaves the house to see you in person. ‘i’m sorry if anything happened last night, please let me know if I overstepped a boundary,’ and despite his words being through text, your mouth feels like it’s dried up, and that you have no idea what to tell him. You send him something vague about driving yourself, nothing that alludes to how your heart raced and skipped a few beats, and how you still think about the gentle way he caresses your jaw. 

How are you supposed to pretend things were the same? Like you weren’t watching him, like his gaze wasn’t with care, and his touches were not electric. How could you pretend that you weren’t slowly falling for Lee Heeseung?

“Did I,” He starts as he rushes through the door. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Shaking your head, you continue to crush up the cookies in their topping container. “I just don’t want to bother you with driving me around anymore.” 

“But you’re not a bother.” Heeseung can barely recall what happened yesterday, and he doesn’t know what caused your sudden lack of interest with your texts from the morning. “Look, ____-” 

In a desperate attempt to push down your unreturned feelings and return things to how they were, you cut him off. “Heeseung, drop it.” 

The day stretches for an eternity, and Heeseung knows something’s wrong. As one last chance to fix things before he goes, he speaks up. “Please, what did I do?” 

And you want to oh-so desperately tell him that last night, you were about to kiss, that the distance between you two was so finite and the way he looked at you had your stomach churning with butterflies. That somewhere, you realized just how similar you two were- that Lee Heeseung understood hard work, he paid attention to the little things, he related to and comforted you in the times that you felt like you were never enough. And those are just the handful of reasons why. You never knew just how well you truly knew him until you evaluated the years you’ve spent together. Some things you pick up subconsciously; like the way he fidgets or nervously smiles when a girl asks for his number, or the way he always looks back at you when he rejects her advances. It’s weird how quickly the knots that made your relationship so complicated suddenly untangle. It’s really just this long windy string that connects you and him, and within the miscommunication, it’s gone awry. 

You and him are in the same vein, and with how much time you spend with each other, it’d be criminal if you didn’t slowly fall for the way he sings along the radio or how he started to open your door. He cares, in all of the minuscule tiny ways that make your heart ache so terribly. “Nothing, it’s…” It’s almost sick how your mind immediately wanders to some stupid scenario where you and Heeseung ended whatever was going on between you two, and you admitted feelings to each other. Heeseung drives you around in his car, Heeseung comes to your house with baked goods he made himself, Heeseung’s eyes glitter when you two get good scores on a test, telling you how happy he is. “It’s just nothing.” You tell him, not really sure what to make of your feelings at all. And while your emotions towards the boy are new and fresh, they're so real- it snowballs fast.

“It’s not nothing if something’s changed between us.” He reasons, a look in his eye begging you to explain. 

“It should be nothing, Heeseung. We’ve never gotten along, so what’s the difference now?” The words leave a burn on your tongue, and you hate the way Heeseung looks away for a moment before he agrees. 

“Right.” He says, monotone and lifeless. “Why bother?” 

And you’re angry with yourself for the way you nod, taking your things. You want to scream in his face that you’ve begun to tolerate Lee Heeseung, in more ways than one. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, you care for him, you want him to be yours. 

“Okay- Hee, wait.” You falter in your decisions, your heartstrings pulling you in an enchanting way towards him- against all rational. “I’m sorry.” You can’t let a good thing go, you can’t risk never talking to him again, simply because you don’t know what it’s like to live life without him. You see him in every memory, in every class photo, and you can’t bear to be the reason you two stop talking- all because you were too scared to speak your mind.

He turns around, waiting for you to continue, crossing his arms as he proceeds to lean against the counter. If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit that Lee Heeseung is one of the most attractive people you’ve met. 

“Do you mean it?” You ask, feeling foolish. He should be asking you that- after what you’ve just told him.

Heeseung takes a step closer, his gaze on the ground as he nears the cash register, slowly closing the distance between you two.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, his voice small. There’s still space between you two, and it feels like oceans apart. And you soak up his words for consideration, truly questioning if you did. 

“No, Heeseung-“ You stare at the blinds, looking around the space only to realize just how secluded you two were- that no one outside of the bakery would know just what loops and hurdles you two had been through to get here. “I could never. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

“Is it true, then? That we get along, now?” His slow steps finally leave the crunching of his shoes in front of you, and you nod your head. And after he sees your confirmation, he continues. “How do you feel about me, ____?”

Your surprised gaze meets his, and you see the small smile on his lips, and the almost playful look in his eye indicating that he’s not really hurt anymore.

“I hate you, Lee Heeseung.” You say, emboldened by his teasing. “I hated you for spilling all of that applesauce on me when we were eight, I hate how you get along with everyone, I hate how you act like you’re better than me.” You pause, to think of more, but his hand reaches up to cup your chin, pointing up to make sure you’re looking at him. 

“I hate all that humming you do at work,” you start, your voice small, feeling shy now that he’s forced to make eye contact (which is extremely attractive and turns your legs into jelly). “Or your piping skills, or how good your macarons taste compared to mine.”

Heeseung is so dangerously close, like how you were just last night. “What else?” He goads you on, wanting to hear just how much more you have left. 

“I hate everything about you,” You barely murmur above a whisper with him being so close to you. “But I’d hate it if you didn’t return my feelings, either.” 

He smiles, finally hearing you admit the very things that’s been plaguing your relationship with the idea of more. 

“Anything more to add?” 

You scoff, reaching up and tangling your hands in his hair. The last thing that reaches Lee Heeseung’s ears are the words, “You’re so annoying,” before you crash your lips into his. 

Your kiss with Heeseung satisfies a longing that’s lasted for a while- to know what it felt like to be so close to him, to kiss his rosy lips just once. It’s tantalizing- the way you can’t pull away, and the way he doesn’t let you with how his hand rests on your lower back to pull you closer. When your hold on his hair loosens slightly, he gingerly lets you lean back. Your forehead comes to rest with his as you open your eyes, letting out a slow breath as you think about the ghost of his kiss on your lips. He’s hesitant to separate from you completely, and rests his hand on your waist instead. 

You smile, biting your lip so you don’t giggle like an excited girl who’s just told her friends about a measly interaction with her crush. Your heart feels like a floating balloon, and your lips stretch into a grin, prompting Heeseung to smile at you, too. 

An idiot. That’s what you both look like. But when Lee Heeseung presses a small kiss on your forehead and intertwines your fingers, you couldn’t care less. 

“Heeseung, stop piping heart macarons, it’s embarrassing.” He rolls his eyes at you and adjusts the piping bag with red macaron batter inside. 

He mimics you childishly, and you want to scoop the lemon curd to plop on his head. “Stop piping heart macarons, yeah, okay, so why do I see you eating them?”

“I don’t. I’d never.” You’re lying, and you both know that, but Heeseung entertains your false narrative a bit more. 

“I’ll have you know, the lady at the law firm a few blocks down came here earlier and ordered some of them.” He retorts. You stick your tongue out at him and continue to mix the drink you’ve been preparing.

“What does she want them for, hm? I can imagine she’s in the season of love in July.” He laughs at your childish comment, continuing to pipe out almost identical hearts onto the baking sheet. 

“Maybe she loves her partner so much and wants to shower them in affection.” He grins, alluding to your relationship. You want to flick him across the forehead, rolling your eyes and walking over after finishing your drink for a to-go order. 

With an elbow on the counter, you watch him from the side as he diligently fills in the heart outlines. “You’ve always liked my macarons, though.” He reminds you. “Remember? You said it when we k-“

“Can you shut up about that?” You cut him off, feeling embarrassed. “It was like- a month ago.” 

It’s your exasperation that fuels him to tease you further. “It was a good kiss, was it n-“

You bump his shoulder, and he messes up one of the macarons, pausing before looking up at you. “Hey!” He whines, frowning. “These are supposed to be for that lawyer, remember?” 

You roll your eyes, and you know when Heeseung lies through his teeth. “Yeah, yeah,” You mutter, using a clean finger to wipe at the edge to make it look nice once more. You play along with his lie. “And we definitely fell in love because of cupid.” 

my baby is done!! as always pleaseeeeee let me know what you think!! even if it is just 'hdefhjfhds' that means the world to me!!!

reblogs are appreciated!! reblogs w comments are da best and asks !! let me know what you think NO JUDGEMENT!

tagging @sumzysworld !

send ask or dm if you'd like to be added to my perm taglist

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hii, I'm glad you're back . Even if it was for a few days you really left a place in tumblr not just for your work but for your presence itself.

I had a question for a while and I'm sorry if you answered it before and I seemed to not notice , if that's the case then forgive my ignorance but I was wondering , since sebek seems to respect his grandfather alot and has inherited the hate for humans from him and it's a known fact in self-aware au that the faes 'love' the overseer alot I must say.. does that mean that sebek also inherited his 'love' for the overseer from his granpa? If so how did green grandpa see the overseer, what made him 'love' them and how does he show it .

If you don't want to write this then feel free to ignore it , hope you have a great day and don't forget to drink water and eat well<33

Hi there Anon. It's so sweet of you to say that. I didn't think I would have made such an impression on anyone. But I completely forgot to write about Sebeks grandfather -_-

Well, better late than never.

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Jp-version spoiler (like, the whole thing!!!), (Platonic!) yandere themes, war, religion, unhealthy mindset, isolation, unhealthy family dynamic

(Platonic!) Yandere headcanons

Ah yes, our local way too loud and loyal member of the reptilian family. No need to to worry about him. I mean, what could go wrong? (Hehe…)

Baul was not from the Valley of Thorns. Growing up in Sunset Savannah he did not grow up with the beliefs of the Faes (in other words, he was not part of a religious cult)

So imagine the huge shock he felt when he finally became a solider under the Draconia banner and started to become more and more like the other Faes

Well, for starters, yes, he wasn't indoctrinated into the whole church thing since birth but also wasn't raised to see you as an equal like the beastmen of the Savannah

You could say that he was a healthy mixture of both

Emphasis on the “was”

You see, isolation and being the only one sticking out (if we discount the humans invading the valley) does leave you open for a lot of things

If we count two (being the surroundings he was in) and two (his more or less unnoticed loneliness) together, we can see pretty fast where that led

Never mind his superior (and friend I mean come on they might as well be brothers) Lilia constantly rambling about the Overseer, savior of all, and how you accepted everyone in your kind embrace

Ok. Nice. Neat. Great. In the beginning, Baul wasn't very interested in joining any kind of religion

But the longer the war held on, the more he wished there was someone he could ask for help in his task of protecting those he deemed close to himself (you see the generational pattern?)

At some point, even the proudest of all can't hold on for forever

So he turned to you, the supposed God that was on so gentle

And goddamn that religious gaslighting and placebo effect worked damn well

Not only did he feel like there was someone there who supported him from somewhere in the universe (even though that was just him believing too much but let have him have some hope, ok?) but also he finally had a community

Whenever he would leave one of the many churches in the valley a Fae would approach, thanking him for protecting their home

Sooner than later did the former non-believer think of himself as your chosen shield of the valley

The war came and went away

If only the same thing could be said about Bauls new religious beliefs

And when he saw that grandson of his, cute little chubby hands that gripped a wooden toy sword tightly, he knew that his position as the valleys shield would not cease

Yes, even Baul would die one day. Fae or not, he was at the end of the day mortal

But that talent of his grandson would surely be of use to you, right?

If his younger self would see him like this, would it run away? Would it feel disgust at the thought that his future self would use his own grandson for selfish, religious reasons?

If only Baul knew that “God” didn't even know they were living beings that existed in a different world…

[locallixie]

housemates — lee know

> summary . how can you live your life peacefully with having your housemate constantly seducing you like that?!

> genre . smut, fluff, housemates au, forced proximity, housemate!minho, gn!reader.

> warnings . sexual tension, general sexual themes, minor language, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, tipsy sex.

(wc) > 6.3k

(sunny's note) ☆ "and they were roommates.” wanted to be sweet and cute, until lee minho is in the equation. sorry for the late upload, i had a really bad writing slump and progress was slow. but i made it!

You shouldn’t have agreed to this if you knew this was how it would turn out. What a mistake, your kindness that yourself and other has taken for granted. And currently stuck in a living situation that tested your patience every waking hours, your dormitory experience was no match for this.

Jisung had asked you for a ‘small’ favour a couple months earlier, about how his friend got evicted and was now homeless, wondering if you could let him stay for a while until he find a new place. First of all, that was not a small favor. Secondly, you didn’t even know this friend that he was talking about. And you were reluctant to let a stranger stay in your house right off the bat. You lived in a dorm before, but that was a dorm and not your own house.

“Please, [Y/N], just a couple months.” Jisung pushed over the phone, you could tell he was outside from the loud and slightly muffled noise that the speaker picked up upon.

Sighing, your soft spot for him would be the death of you. Agreed with hesitation, since you were glad you were out of the dorm life and regained your privacy, but it seemed that life had came to pull you back in. Jisung should be expecting your complaints if something bad happened between you and your new housemate.

From the first initial meeting, you got some of the weirdest vibe from this guy. Maybe it was the amount of black and leather he was dressed up in, or the bitchy look on his face that could kill with a single stare. How the fuck was Jisung friends with a person like this? They were the complete opposite of one another, the guy looked as if he committed first degree murders as his favourite past-time. What you meant was you were convinced that he was a sociopathic killer, and he was probably plotting yours and Jisung’s death soon.

For one person, he sure did had a lot of stuff. You three brought around eight or ten different sized carton boxes up to your apartment, not counting the two gigantic suitcases that he had to take a second trip with Jisung to go get. He must have been living in his old place for very long to have that much stuff, wonder why he got kicked out? Possibly because the landlord found the bodies with how sharp his eyes always glared at.

“Don’t worry about the rent, Minho can pay for his half.” Jisung reassured, starting his car. The engine roared loudly, it had been through a rough day of carrying all that stuff to here.

Before he left, Jisung told you one last thing. “Oh, and don’t be afraid to ask him for help around the house, Minho may look intimidating but he’s quite a sweet guy.” With that sentence stuck in the back of your head, he drove away. If you could even have enough courage to ask him to take the trash out, maybe that statement would be proven.

You did all the house chores yourself, you didn't ask for any assistance from Minho. Wether it was because you were used to having to do everything yourself, or he was just still as unapproachable as the first time you two met. But he too, barely talked to you. You heard his voice once or twice when he was on the phone, but he did not speak a full sentence to you and ought for short few words replies.

"Do you need any help?" Another voice emerged from behind your back, offering assistance.

You pulled the trash bag out of the can, "I'm good, thanks,"

"Whatever, suit yourself." Minho walked away. Not even a bit of small talk? It frustrated you of how aloof he was acting, he didn't want to get to know you at all. However, it pissed him off just as much, you would always shrug him off every-time he offered to help you. As you two had made it clear before, you hardly knew each other, and here you were living together as people of unfamiliarity.

You didn't know his last name, or how he met your three years best friend—Jisung. Neither did he held any personal information about you, he wasn't even sure which variation of your name was the correct one. Already a month has passed by and no one was willing to start up a conversation with the other person. This ice between you and Minho just kept getting thicker and colder.

Ranting on the phone, "I'm telling you, I can not get through him! I think he hate me!"

"Calm down, [Y/N], he doesn't hate you." Jisung reassured, sighing as this was the third phone call of the month that you were expressing your discontent for the same subject. "It's simple, just talk to him, even if it's small talk."

Hearing the front door opened, "Fuck, he's back, I'll talk to you later." You didn't let Jisung say 'bye', hanging up in the midst of his sentence.

Minho worked a nine-to-five job, you weren't sure of his occupation in particular. You got a sense of his routine, he would leave the house at exactly seven-fifty in the morning and usually came home around five or six—depending on the traffic that day. On few occasions, he was nice enough to bring food home for the both of you.

"Hey, you're back quite late today?" You asked, seeing the clock already hitting six at the moment.

He set down a few plastic bags on the table, "I got groceries on the way, I'll cook dinner." He explained shortly, bringing ingredients to the kitchen for preparation.

That was a first, he had never offered to cook before, much less thanking you for the meals you made for dinner. Guessed he was just hot and cold like that, and this was his way of showing his gratitude. You weren't mad, on what normal day would you have someone cook for you enjoy? You technically did everything yourself when you moved out a few years ago.

Watching his figure diligently cooking in the kitchen, it comforted you in an unusual way. He was like your own personal boyfriend—for tonight at least, he would cook and then sit at the table with you to eat, maybe he might even offer to wash the dishes. A fine, hard-working young man? Anyone who could scored him would probably be winning in life. You couldn’t hide your jealousy if he ever bring home a date.

He walked over to you, holding out a spoon with a small portion of thick orange liquid. Minho asked, “Try it, tell me if it suit your taste.”

The tangy flavour stood out immediately, he must have put something citrusy as it melt into your tastebuds. It was good, no, amazing even! This hidden talent of his was worth all the waiting you had done, you never knew Minho could be such a great chef. For a while, you thought this guy couldn’t possibly hold a knife correctly, yet you were proven wrong of your assumptions.

You nodded, the sound you made when encountered good food already told him enough. Everything smelled so mouth-watering, and the presentation was tempting you to devour everything in on sitting.

"Thanks for the food!" As soon as he placed the last dish onto the table, you immediately picked up your utensils. You could not hold yourself back when face with good home-cooked food, good home-cooked food made by an equally good-looking guy.

Minho sat down beside you—he usually sat across from you which kept a nice distance between the two of you—he was very close today. Asked he, "How is it? Good?"

You didn't hold back on your praises, "God, why didn't you cook sooner? This is actual heaven~!"

He simply smiled in a humble manner. Your face was a little puffed up when you eat, which he found quite endearing. Watching you stuffed your entire face with rice, sweet and sour ribs, and eggrolls. Flattered by how much you were enjoying it, yet concerned from how fast you were eating.

"Slow down, wouldn't want you to choke." He gazed at you as he advised.

"Unless you like it like that." Immediately, you started coughing profusely. A grain of rice flew up to your nose, making everything worse the longer it stayed stuck up there.

Minho patted your back, "Woah, are you alright?" Uh, obviously no?! You were coughing out rice over here, how could you even be remotely okay? And how did he expect you to be okay after that suggestive comment he just made? This guy was unbelievable. The smile laced with deviousness, as if he was silently planning something that would catch you off guard—which certainly did a minute ago.

He picked up a single rib and ate it with his chopsticks, he probably mind getting his hands dirty from that sticky sauce he used. How could Minho looked so graceful while eating while you were here devouring everything down like a fucking caveman. Work on your image a bit, would you? Especially when you were living with someone that wouldn't use their hands to eat ribs.

"Have you been talking to Jisung recently?" Minho suddenly questioned, setting down his bowl as to show respect.

You turned to him, confusion sitting on your shoulders and your heart sinking with a bit of guilt. By any chance, did he overheard your conversations? "Yeah, I have." Continued by another question, "What? Are you two not talking?"

Minho's eyes was bigger than you expected, now seeing him a bit closer from your distance from each other. It curved in a very pretty way, and glistened upon every reflections of his soul. You couldn't help, couldn't help but get a little sad every-time you gazed into his eyes, or when they would unknowingly stared back at you. He looked at you, as if through his eyes saw you as the most precious person to exist in the short timespan that was the human life.

"He haven't been answering my texts and calls, I don't know if he's upset with me or something?" Minho sighed, "Can you...just ask him for me?"

In a bit of hesitation, "Would it be a bit rude for an outsider to chime in? Whatever it is you and Jisung are going through, it's best if you two worked it out together...privately." You told, trying to offer other solutions.

Minho let out a tired breath, "I don't know, I'm not sure what I did wrong that made him upset with me, that's what I'm most worried about."

You patted his back, "Just talk it out with him, communication is key!" How ironic, you could hardly hold a conversation with him, and now you were here giving out communication advise? Unreliable source. You knew you shouldn't interfere with whatever beef Jisung and Minho was having between each other, but you were making it seem like you wouldn't ask Jisung for details. Or Jisung would tell you himself from how much he like to rant to you.

Minho flashed a genuine smile towards you, "Thanks, I owe you one!"

Your heart skipped a beat, just one enough for your whole system to go the very bit haywire. You were finally making some good progress with Minho, and his entire intimidating and remote façade all came crashing down when he smiled. Keep up the good work!

“Are you and Minho back on speaking terms yet?” The other line went quiet for a few seconds, you heard a sigh being let out.

Jisung replied with a question, “He told you?”

Fuck, your nosy tendencies were acting up again, it slipped out of you like a natural instinct. “No—um, yeah he did but I don’t know the details or anything! He was just wondering if you were mad at him or something since you stop contacting him.” You went on to explain, trying to tell Jisung that you weren’t intending to be impolite and simply wanted to help your friend out.

The other giggled at your tone of voice, of how freaked out he got you. You acted as if the people you were working for to take down started suspecting you to be a double agent, but unlike those action films, you were terrible at hiding the truth.

“My girlfriend don’t like the fact that I’m still friends with my exes, so she wiped out their contacts from my phone.” The whole problem was finally solved as the explanation came out.

Wait, one thing. “Minho is your ex?!” You exclaimed at the sudden realization.

Jisung was absolutely enjoying this from the other line, “What? You want him?” He teased.

Your face went red, denying the question thrown at you. This whole time, this was the relationship your housemate has with your best friend? And he had never cared to tell you about anything regarding this romance he once had? All these people do was lie. Struggling through your words, you outwardly rejected the idea. “No—! No– I don’t! I—!”

Jisung interrupted, “It’s fine, he’s all yours.”

You tried denying, “No, I don’t want him—!” Quickly being cut of by Jisung once more.

“And he’s a really great kisser—”

“Jisung, shut the fuck up!” You hanged up in embarrassment, throwing your phone away in a state of panic. Why would he tell you that? As if you needed to be more careful around Minho now that you knew these things about him. God, how did he expect you to continue living with this knowledge? Unlike Jisung, you saw Minho everyday of the week.

The door to your bedroom suddenly opened, “Are you okay? I heard a thud.” Minho was still in his work attire, a tad bit sweaty from the heated summer air, the first two buttons of his shirt were left undone. Solely from the condition of his appearance was in, you were mentally restraining yourself.

“Did you just came back?” You asked, begging that he didn’t heard your conversation with Jisung on the phone a few minutes ago.

He replied shortly, “Yeah, I’ll go shower now so we can eat.” Closing your door as he left without another word, left silently with knowing what you said earlier. He heard enough of your phone call, you were too caught up with talking that you didn’t hear the front door open. Minho was halfway across the hall to his room when he heard you shouted, his name fell out from your mouth as clear as day.

Oh, Jisung never told you that he and Minho were a thing? Now it was kind of awkward for the both of you. But if you wanted him, he wanted you too. He saw the way you would look at him, stealing glances from across the table. He was a very attractive guy, you were sure he wholeheartedly knew this, and he used it to his advantage.

Coming out of a cold shower, his hair was wet and dripping water down his back and shoulders, but at least have some respect for you by covering up his entire bare torso. At the dinner table? Was he going to be half-naked for the whole duration of dinner? He wanted you dead, you boldly claimed.

“So…how was work?” You opened up a topic, hoping he would start talking to fill the silence that was ongoing between the two of you.

Minho let out a chuckle, "Not fun." Handing you a pair of chopsticks and a ceramic bowl. That was understandable, he did looked quite worn out coming home after work.

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking." You raised a question into his occupation.

He began picking up food from the many plates into his bowl, the wondrous scent controlled his chopsticks faster than his mind. Minho answered while pouring the meat broth over his rice, "I'm an accountant."

An accountant? Was that a code word for sex workers? No one in their right mind would go into accounting. Minho out of all people, worked as an accountant? You had no negative comments on his intelligences, or his work ethics. But accounting sounded so boring for someone as interesting as Minho, you thought what he said was a joke of some sort. Maybe he had a side hustle doing unconventional and dirty jobs.

"It's not fun, but I got bills to pay." Minho joked to lighten up the mood, filling in the empty pauses with yours and his joyful laughs.

He shook his head in a subtle yet prominent dissappointment, smiling to hide his actual emotion on his feeling of unfulfillment. "I wish I became a singer back then."

What he said piqued your interest, you looked up at him with a spark of excitement. Straight into his eyes, you asked. "You sing?"

His vocals was almost professional singer level, for a first in the short timespan of knowing him, you saw such happiness on his face. Holding the microphone as he sang you a love song, the amount of money you spent on that karaoke machine paid off. Minho wasn't wrong or thought too highly of himself when he said he should had became a singer, you would have said the same thing if you knew him sooner. And if he did, you would support him with your all.

The atmosphere got a bit hotter and hotter as the night went on, with alcohol entering the table as an uninvited guest. When a sensual song came on, the mood totally changed for better or worse. His loose t-shirt was showing some skin, it was too a little short as it was showing peeks of his toned stomach underneath. Your mind was going places, wether it was because of the alcohol getting you tipsy or it was your inner desires for intimacy.

Minho did not broke eyes-contact with you, in a hushed voice, stating that you were the only beauty he would keep in his sight tonight. Gently holding your hand in his, he placed it on his chest. Did you feel it? Under the warm and shaking palm of yours. His heart beating at a tiny bit quicker pace than usual, beating for you with all of these temptations in him.

"Minho, I should go to bed now, it's getting awfully late." You told, diverting away in a flustered mess. Yet, despite your attempt at diluting the air, Minho persuasion didn't seem to back down. Too heated, too close as you could now smell his liquor-laced breath.

Eyes half-lidded which made his desires just the more prominent, he was serious with no control. Before your lips could touch one another, a loud vibration emerged abruptly that pulled both of you out of that drunken trance.

Blindly grabbing for your phone, your eyelids were giving up as each minute continued to pass by. You didn't look at the contact name, the alcohol was taking over your system like a pernicious poison. A voice echoed out from your phone speaker, it took you a few seconds to register the other line’s speaking and its distinct frequency.

“Where is your report?! [Y/N], you are driving me crazy with your constant delays!” They roared at you, annoyed and angered.

You got off from your place on the couch, walking away with your phone in hand as you used your last few excuses to save yourself. “Seungmin, it’s not really a good time right now, can I call you back?”

Seeing you caught up with work on the line, he figured he would clean up this mess you two made on the coffee table for you. For a moment, he thought you felt it too. He might had read the room wrong, but the way you tried to avert from the situation felt almost like a reassurance for him. As if you wanted to go further with him, go little deeper, but you were unsure if he was onboard as well. He thought of apologizing, after you sober up more than the state you were in at the moment.

You swore, you couldn't remember anything from the night before. Went to bed at nearly one in the morning, woke up head-empty and half of the blankets and pillows were off your bed. Come on, you could confidently say that you did not exceed your limit. Yet as shown this morning, you had a rough night yesterday with the leftover liquor running through your veins.

You were absolutely dumb-founded when he said he was sorry for what happened last night, as if you remembered everything clearly to its very details. Let's see, you ate dinner, you talked, sang a couple songs out of boredom you assumed, then it all when foggy after that.

"What are you on about? I have no idea of whatever the hell you are apologizing for." Telling him straight up, you could not register anything he was saying to make any sense.

Frustrated, and a bit taken over by the shame from yesterday. "No, it's okay, you're better off not knowing anyway. Sorry for making a scene so early in the morning."

Minho finished the few last sips of his Americano, grabbing his laptop bag from under the dining table in a hurry. "I have to go now, see you again at six." He bid goodbye at the front door.

Before he go for the next ten hours, you told him tonight's plan. "I have a few friends over tonight, if you don't mind their companies."

"How many are coming?" Minho asked.

You tilted your head as you tried to remind yourself of the size of your party, maybe even the identities of your guests as well. "Just three. Jisung is going to be there too, if you want to see him."

You could forget anything, anything that you deemed important. But one thing that you couldn't seem to shake off your mind, as it has been bugging you ever since you knew of it, was the bygone romance Minho had with your best friend—happened to be Jisung. Now that you were non-actively trying to persue the guy, it left a bittersweet taste in your mouth. Though Jisung had affirmed that the past was in the past, you could court his ex-boyfriend all you want.

Minho looked down, "We'll talk later, okay? I'm late for work." Leaving things unfinished between you, he closed the door as he left.

You didn't work until around noon, you could work from home if you wanted, yet you still came into the office everyday since things moved faster with you being physically there. But after that call from Seungmin—head of your department, you were already considered brave for the mere thought of showing up. Despite how nice Seungmin actually was, his anger was incomparable to anything you had ever seen.

After your short shift, you went back home to get things prepare. On the way home, you had already picked up a few ingredients. Said ingredients were just a six-pack of cold beers and Gochujang sauce for the beef. The others wouldn't come for another hour, for the time being, you would have to get everything ready by yourself.

Pray to god that the table grill was still working today since you haven't brought it out for a good few years now, it was collecting dust in the very far back of your cupboard. The hangout had been planned for a little while already, you got most of the things a day or two prior.

Was Minho going to join you? His expression carried a bit of hesitation when you asked this morning, though you would be happy to have him if he did changed his mind. The more the merrier!

Hyunjin and Jisung came over just a tiny bit earlier than Felix, guessed he was caught up with some baking for desert. You and your friends were all gathered up together at the dining table, it felt crowded by how small of a space you had to eat for four people. Happy that Hyunjin’s beer wasn’t on the floor since it was standing so confidently at the edge.

“When is Minho coming home?” Jisung suddenly turned to you.

“I don’t know, usually he would be back by now.” You shrugged, just now noticing today’s abnormalities. Maybe something came up at the office, or he had something else he needed to do beside from work matter. Whatever it was, you just hoped he would get home safety.

Speak of the devil, not even ten minutes had passed and the front door softly rang of clicking keys. You came to open the door for Minho, meeting his slightly stunned expression. His glossy tired eyes under the dirty frames of his glasses gazed back at you, his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead as if he ran his way home. God, he looked rough, but so strangely enticing at the same time.

"Hey, we were just talking about you!" You beamed.

"Sorry, I'm late. My digital files got corrupted, so I had to get I.T to check that bitch out." Minho sighed deeply, you could imagine how long it took to resolve it purely from how worn out he presented.

The others greeted him at the dining table, getting a stool for him to sit since you were out of chairs. Minho was sandwiched between you and Hyunjin, one he knew, one he didn’t. He felt the tiniest bit uncomfortable sitting in such a tight spot, especially when yours and his thighs were rubbing against each other. He didn’t mind it too much, he liked you anyways.

“Ah, Minho! This is Hyunjin, and that’s Felix, they’re my college friends.” You introduced. Though he was a year older, they treated him with a casual formality. Felt more like meeting old friends than new people, your group broke the ice a lot quicker than he had previously expected. Soon you all were drinking and chatting, learning a bit too much about each other for the first meeting.

Felix tapped out, “No more, I’m driving tonight.” With Jisung following along as most had already decided to stop drinking, including you.

You placed your hand on the shoulder of the person next to you, “Are you still going? Damn, you must know how to handle your liquor.”

Minho stared back at you as you spoke to him, his eyes half-lidded like the night before. The first few buttons were unfastened, his bare and defined chest laid underneath the thin fabric. A sheer cast of sweat made his body glistened by the overhead light, his glasses was slowly slipping off his nose bridge which reflected the sweat even more than it should have. His face was flushed red and pink everywhere, flushed from a love confession of a drunken mind. Any minute now, he might just be making out with you.

His heart and guts was burning up with these carnal desires, if your friends weren't here, you could bet he would be fucking your brains out like how you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted you just as much, so shamelessly wanted you.

Minho leaned in suddenly, his lips and hot intoxicated breath lingered your ears. Whispered gently with his mellow, sleepy tone of voice, "When are they leaving?"

“We’re just going to have some tea and brownies, they’ll be on their way soon. Why do you ask?” You returned, asking in with a bit of hesitation in the back of you mind. Could it be he was overloaded enough, or did he not like your friends? You doubted the second one, since they had so much fun together. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen.

He didn’t further elaborate, ending the subject then and there with no other explanation. His intentions were unclear, as if he was hiding something from you but you couldn’t figure out what it was. Hopefully not something shady, or would leave you with a bad image of Minho. Keep it simple, he was probably tired and he needed a bit more peace and quiet. And he couldn't get any peace and quiet if your friends were here, right?

You wanted him to take off his shirt, take every single piece of fabric on his body off, let you admire all of his grace and beauty. Occupied with drooling over your housemate, the teapot seemed to had slipped your mind.

"Fuck!" Yelped you, the heat of the hot tea finally burned your skin.

Hearing pain from your voice, Minho and the others were already there to aid you. Especially Minho, he grabbed your hand into his as soon as he noticed. Luckily for you, the injury was minor and running it through cool water was good enough.

Minho really has you in a chokehold, metaphorically speaking obviously—unless. If you two did become a thing, would it be a little awkward? Maybe not for Jisung, but you were unsure of how or what to think in a situation like this. Though, despite how much you might try to push the idea away due to having quite a lot of repect for your best friend, you couldn't help yourself.

Seduction existed in his eyes and body language, it was subtle yet effective. An absolute disaster that the two of you also lived together, which pumped you up with an amount of hormone that a high-school student would have.

The way he dressed may be ordinary, office worker fashion. His shoulders flexing in his fitted button-up, straight dress pant hugging his thighs. His thick frame glasses further accentuated his winsome features. There was no exaggeration that he, for a definite, has a lot of admirers from work. You too, would be weak on your knees if Minho was your colleague.

It was around eight o’ clock by the time you finished up, which wasn’t late—at least to your definition—but tomorrow was still a work day. Especially for Hyunjin, who was flying out of the country for a business trip, of which it was crucial for him to leave early morning for his flight.

“I’m catching a cab home.” Jisung answered when you asked him how he was going to get home without a car, since the other two already left on their separate ways.

“No, I’ll drive you home.” You offered kindly.

“You drank a lot tonight, you really shouldn’t be driving, [Y/N].” Jisung denied, pointing out the slight alcoholic haze you were in. He wasn’t wrong, you were a literally beast with the bottle. However, you were awake enough to still talk normally and sort of think, like being half asleep.

Reassuring you that he would be fine on his own, and that he would be sure to text you when he arrived at his place. You knew Jisung for too long for you to be worried about him on trivial things, it simply felt like the right thing or a common habitual saying you had going on. You just wanted to take extra precautions since you both had been drinking the whole night, and there were quite a lot of problems existing because of it.

"Don't worry about me too much," Jisung soothed you once more. However he had no regards for what a sentimental moment that was happening between the two of you, immediately back to his ways of joking to dilute the air. "You should be worrying about if Minho can keep his dick in his pants near you."

You smacked him on his shoulder, "Shut up, he's right over there!"

"I mean...I see the way y'all look at each other, we all know, [Y/N]." He commented, giving you a playful look. You wanted to murder Jisung, and you would make it look like an accident too. Were you being that obvious about your feelings? But the way Minho acted around you didn't help too!

Jisung waved goodbye to you and to Minho—who was in the kitchen, washing up dishes and shot glasses. "I'll see you on Saturday for coffee if you can even get out of bed, bye!"

Nodding, as you watched him walk away from your apartment to the main elevator, realization hit later than expected. You yelled out in annoyance but Jisung would definitely laughed it off and ignore you. "Hey, we're not fucking!"

You had to stay up to finish a few reports and lone documents, so that meant you wouldn't be able to see Minho during his morning coffee. Coming over to offer another hand in cleaning up, it wasn't a big mess but was a mess nonetheless. You might take care of everything for Minho to get some well-deserved rest that he has been needing.

Minho turned around as he felt a tap on his shoulder, "Let me take it from here, you should be getting ready for bed by now."

"No, I'll help." Minho single-mindedly refused your offer. "And too, I can't sleep with this raging boner you gave me."

Too sudden, too out of nowhere, your neck snapped to him when you heard him said those words. His expression was neutral, as natural as if he had said and had done nothing wrong. Still washing dishes and bowls, scrubbing and rinsing like he has been doing the same thing for years. Did he heard himself at least, or was it a thought that went loose.

"Oh, sorry." What the fuck were you supposed to reply to that? Thank you? Was that a compliment in disguise of some sort? Feuling the fire even more, the desires becoming stronger and intense, he had agreed to throw away his principles already.

Minho inched closer to you, his eyes on yours as he asked nicely for attention. "If I tell you that I want to fuck you right here right now, would you be mad?"

Face flushed, hot as when you would place your hand on your tea cup to check the temperature. He was evil, disregarding your state of mental stability by saying things of the same kind so out of pocket. He, for a fact, waited for the right time to confess his sins. The kettle was boiling all night, the heat and steams were his deepest thoughts.

You turned off the sink, your hands cool and wet and smell of dish soap from the water. For a split moment, you were solely looking at each other, begging either one to make a move. Minho leaned in towards your direction, his bare forearms brushed gently against yours. The alcohol in both of your bodies made the moment all the more intimate, slowly yet steadily closing your distance between each other, breaking down the wall of sexual tension you had unconsciously built that stood with all its might.

The faint taste of his strawberry chapstick on your tongue, his lips was a little sticky but so soft that you didn’t quite mind. There was no way of stopping him, as you too, did not want to stop the thrill ride that was ongoing. Letting out heavy breaths as he sucked dark red marks onto your skin, lips painting your blank canvas. May he be the only alcohol you would get drunk on, let you drink him up like your sorrows and distress.

“Oh, Minho.” You breathed, moaning out his name as his hands rushing to take off your pants. Hot tongue making a line on your stomach down to your sex, freely as his mouth worked on you like how you dearly enjoyed his food. Both your legs resting on his broad shoulders just did nothing but helped spread you wider.

Your sweet voice singing out to encourage him, using his tongue in all directions that favoured you. Stomach knotting with alcohol and dinner and a heaven he had created for you, coming onto his lips, a result of prolonged temptations.

Every fabric that touched yours and his bodies that day were all scattered on the floor by second round. Never even seen your best friend naked, and here you were admiring his ex-boyfriend’s entire unclothed figure with no ounce of shame left in yourself. You could not keep your hands away from him, so greedily touching him in different places.

Neither could wait any longer, deciding to lay each other’s pride out on the dining table. Minho placed his lips on yours, closing his eyes yet still seeing the vivid image of you in his dark mind. With each passing second, his cock making its way into the very depths of you. You hugged him quite tightly, as if you haven’t scored anyone in a while.

Your eyes told him everything he needed to know, you body twitching and squirming under his embrace, the silent language that told him every one of your secrets. Thrusting faster and harder, wanting to hear you make some more music for his aching soul. Minho grabbed your legs, pushing them against your torso as his cock went deeper into you. You could barely keep your eyes open, or could you stay present with him. This pleasure felt like a dream, a dream that softly pulled you in.

Minho kissed your lips once again, “Baby, don’t sleep on me, I’m not done with you just yet.”

But as much confidence that he may has in him, he was nearing his high and coming apart for you along the way. Minho’s vocals were heavenly when he sang for you, and were just as heavenly when he came into you. He kept going despite being out of breath and tired for you, he started something and he was going to finish it.

Second time felt much more powerful than the first, almost like he gave his all. You could feel his seeds dripping out from inside of you, onto the dining table and even the chairs. Dirtying everything all over again, now you had more cleaning to add onto your list. Guessed neither of you were going to get any sleep tonight.

[derangedanomaly]

So, I saw your writing and short stories. I love the way you write each character perspective of the reader so I wanted to ask. Can you do Dust, Nightmare, Error, Epic, Bill, Killer x Demon Slayer Reader (Like, in there au, they slay demons with a katana)

I'm glad you like my writing style pookie! ^^ (I'm sorry, I have no experience in writing Bill sans, so I didn't do him. Again, terribly sorry 😭😭 still hope you'll enjoy this nonetheless!)

NOT A DEMON...

(Dust, Nightmare, Error, Epic, Killer)

Nightmare:

After he found out that there's another Au, he just needed to see it..see how much havoc he can cause! Of course he immediately went there.

Though, he didn't expected this.

He was immediately jumped by a girl, holding a katana up to his throat, which... undeniably...made his knees turn into jelly... (Bro is actually into this freaky shit 😨)

He only awkwardly looked at you, a smirk evident on his face. "Hey...so... are you gonna point your pretty katana up to my throat like this forever...or you'll actually let go...?" Bitch was LYING. He didn't want you to let go. (SIR. Y'ALL JUST MET 😱)

Your glare hardened on him as you tighten your hold on your katana, not planning to move from him. (Damn..ya trynna start some shit? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He chuckled at your unwillingness, and actually WRAPPED HIS TENTACLE around your katana. Your eyes widened, not really sure what his next move is going to be.

"What....what kind of demon are you?" You asked him, looking over his goopy body and slick tentacles. He became a little flustered from your stares, but didn't waver. "Demon? Heh... I've been called many things, awful things...but I wouldn't go as far as to call me a demon." He is a demon. 😐

You decided to interrogate him further, so you still sat, seated on his chest, a katana ready to end him anytime he would get out of line. (Which... let's be honest, really turned him on...)

You then began your special interrogation.

"What's your name?" "Nightmare. You?" ".....Y/n L/n...what about your... appearance? What's up with your tentacles?" He shoots you a flirtatious smirks. "Why? Interested..~?" You glared and pressed the katana to his neck more.. "Answer." He let out a shuddered sigh, almost as if trying to hold himself back... "I'm a skeleton. Not a demon, hun." It was finally then that he decided to free himself, using his tentacles to lift you up with ease. You questioned yourself why he didn't free himself earlier if he could very much do so without problems.

"Don't worry, Y/n. You'll see me much sooner then you can expect..."

Oh you knew. And next time he comes. You'll be prepared.

Killer:

Oh he was SO going to kill the others for this! He made a bet with the others recently, and he lost. Again. As a punishment, he had to capture someone from this brand new Au. Which Killer, didn't enjoy. He rather much liked killing them on the spot! But not kidnapping! He HATED this mission....

Killer walked through the dark hollow forest with a bored expression, looking around. As long as he kidnapped ONE person, the job's done. And that's all he wanted to get out of here.

As he passed a certain corner, he was immediately startled by a loud voice. A rather...sweet voice. He slowly turned around to be met with a... girl's eyes, looking frantically at him. In his eyes...she seemed.. nervous, holding a katana in a shakey hold.

Thinking you were quite attractive, he didn't see the harm in a little flirting. Besides...he can't come back without completing the mission...so who knows how long he'll be stuck here. (Also, it wouldn't be Killer if he didn't flirt with any being he saw as attractive. 💀)

"Well hello gorgeous~" You let out a little squeal at that and the katana in your hand almost slipping out. Which he found rather cute.

Truth be told, it was your first day as the demon slayer, you never actually encountered a demon head-on like this before. Which made you quite nervous...

Despite being very nervous, you eventually found your voice and spoke to him, trying to assert authority. "L-Listen here demon!" Which failed as you stuttered. Ugh.. "-We either fight to death! Or you leave! Right now..." Killer couldn't help but chuckle as he leaned against a tree right next to him, with you still holding your katana and standing in a battle pose.

"Fight to death? Sounds a bit gruesome to me.." he chuckled again, sending shivers down your spine. "How about we change it up to something more...poetic? I've always been the romantic type~ how about...we fight till death do us part! Yeah... that sounds better.."

Because Killer is a dumbo, he completely overlooked the part where you called him a demon. So he was surprised when you called him like that, again. "W-What are you?! Some perverted demon?!" Your cheeks flared up in red as you squealed. Killer only looked at you in confusion. "A demon?? Nah...I ain't a demon sweetheart, I'm a skeleton! But I can act like a demon if that'll get you going..." You couldn't help out the grin that was spreading on your cheeks as you turned your head a little to the side, to avoid looking at him.

Killer smirked and suddenly threw you over his shoulder, you yelped and wanted to take out your katana, only to see it in the snow not being able to reach it. Killer smirked and not so subtly peaked at your...form. ;)

"So.. where's your house eye candy? I'm gonna crash at yours tonight." You thought he'll immediately kidnap you? Nah...call it selfishness...but he just really wanted to enjoy this a little longer.

Error:

To say that Error was furious was an understatement. He was fuming.

Ink went ahead, and created another fucking Au. Great...more work for him to destroy the anomalies.

As Error went on a search about the Au, his eyes suddenly catched your folder...it was almost like it was calling out to him, shining even.. he leaned in closer, taking your folder out. Y/n. Heh...that seems like an interesting 'anomaly'...

Error went into your Au, beginning his work of destroying everything. That was until you tried to step in, he thought you'd be furious and try to put up a fight, but all you did was....gush about his strength...or his demeanor, his appearance..he was..........flustered.

He turned to you with big blush. Out.of.words. what was he even supposed to say?!

"Oh man...you have such a strong arms..." You complimented, making it harder for him to destroy your world. He was having a stupid smile on his face. It was actually really adorable! "O-Oh gEeez...." He let out a huff as he looked you up and down. (Ayo sir, you checking out? 🤨😘)

He grumbled, trying to compose himself, showing clear signs of embarrassment. "I'm the destroyer of Au's. I'm supposed to eliminate anomalies. And you're one of em." You couldn't help the mischievous grin spreading across your face. You have no idea why, but something about this guy just screamed, 'I'm not dangerous!'. You trusted your brain. So you decided to not attack him. Now that you got a good look at him, he seemed to have trouble sleeping...

"What's your name, Mr. Au destroyer?" You didn't miss the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile, but chose to not comment on it. "....Error.." you smiled warmly at Error, pointing to your house. "You look like you're not doing so well... wanna come over my place and...rest up?" His face retorted to a frown suddenly, he stood up and made you come super close face-to-face with him, glaring at you.

"I'm not dumb..... you're not doing this out of kindness...no one is..WHY are you doing this???" you felt like bursting to laughter right then and there. Is this man serious? "I'm just offering you my hospitality, Error...is there a problem with my intentions?" His face blew up almost instantly, before landing you safely onto the ground.

"Great! My offer still stays...feel free to come...~" of course he'll come. How could he resist with you taunting him so much?

Dust:

This is the hundredth time that Dust asked for Nightmare to go visit this brand new Au. Nightmare knew. He knew from the start when he heard about the Au that Dust would be interested. After all......monster species and their Exp is his forte...

After Nightmare almost blew a fuse, he finally agreed to Dust's request. "Are you....sure you want...to go alone...?" Horror asked Dust, eating a raw meat while doing so. "Yeah. Don't worry H. Killer will keep you entertained." Dust laughed when he heard Horror's next words. "Ugh... I'd rather hang...out with...a caterpillar..." Dust couldn't help but agree with his words, leaving Horror in their shared room. (I LIVE FOR HORROR AND DUST BEING BEST FRIENDS 😍)

After going through the portal, he looked at his surroundings, making mental notes. He liked to visit each and every new Au like this before him and his team destroys it...it made him feel a little alive...like he wasn't completely lost. Yes, he mostly did this so the others could have an idea of the layout in the Au, and how many people there were and what kind of species they were...but...it sorta became a hobby of his now. He felt good when he explored something new! It reminded him of Papyrus....

He shook his head and took out his book. For every Au, he had its own special book. Every book was different for each Au. He sometimes even decorated the cover... (Would NOT let anyone know...He would actually die).

This specific book for this Au is brown like cork, and has a golden lining around it. He began making small notes, looking at the scenery. It was like something BRAND NEW. He never saw an Au that was SO different from the others! And from the looks of it...it didn't occured in the underground.

As Dust sat under a tree, writing notes, he didn't noticed a figure approaching, until it was right besides him.

"What are you doing..?" He flinched. "What the FUCK!?" You both then proceeded to stare at the other, both of your faces showing concern for the other... "Uhm... I feel as though we haven't started off on the right foot.... I'm Y/n L/n! And you...? Stranger...?" He blinked a few times before responding. "Oh, I'm Dust..." You let out a giggle at the silly name, as you look at his book.. "And can I ask what you're doing? Dust?"

After awhile of pestering Dust to let you in on what he was doing, he explained what he was doing. You were pretty impressed when you heard his work. "That's so cool! Hey, maybe I can help you?" Dust only looked at you with unfazed expression. "Help me how?" You giggle, earning yourself an embarrassed Dust, avoiding your pretty eyes that he seemed to get lost in. "I'll show you how everything in here works! After all, wouldn't you want to hear the thoughts of the citizen?" Dust thought about it for some time, until he eventually gave up. "Alright.." you cheered slightly, making him chuckle quietly. Why wouldn't he take you up on the offer? After all...he wanted to talk to you for as long as possible.

Epic:

Oh how did he get into this situation? This night, he snuck into Nightmare's mansion, to hang out with Cross, only to be found and chugged into a black room locked until the morning arrives...

"Oh come on, Nightmare dude!" He whined trying to force the door open. Nightmare only grimaced. "DON'T call me dude, Epic. Ever." Epic sighed after he heard Nightmare's steps walking further away. All he could do was wait. You'd think he can teleport, but nope! This room forbids you to use any form of magic...Nightmare really thought about everything when creating a punishment..

He only sighed more, and slumped down sitting on the ground, his back facing the door. He was getting pretty bored... Nightmare even took his printed out memes and his rubber chicken! What a crime! Truly a vile man...

After almost falling asleep, Epic heard weird noises...it was like some portal? He opened his eyes to be met with, truly an opened portal. It must've opened on its own...he observed it for awhile until deciding to come in.

When he opened his eyes. Again. He was met with a literal angel. Well, at least in his eyes. There you were, fighting against a big demon ruthlessly. As if it was nothing! Epic could only stare in adoration, still sitting on the ground. "Oh I wish I could describe this with that one meme...." But I don't have my meme privileges... He thought to himself, before fully focusing on you again.

He decided that, to make a good first impression on you, he'll get up and help you with your demon problem.

And he actually did! You had no idea who this man was, but you were grateful for him! He really kicked some butt!

After beating the demon, you looked to your side and faced the man that helped you... "Hey...thanks, man." Epic got a little smug and smirked. "You're welcome. What's your name brah?" You chuckle at his vocabulary as you both exchanged names.

"Well...see you around, Epic." You smiled teasingly, putting your hand on his shoulder before leaving him a flustered mess. He's definitely gonna see you around....you think that after this experience he'll just leave? Hell no! He'll visit for sure.. ;)

[stevesbipanic]

soulmate au where you can hear what song your soulmate has stuck in their head. Steve gets confused as to why he always hears heavy metal, because he always thought he'd fall for a girl who listens to cheesy romantic pop music, and Ed gets frustrated from all the Top 40 songs constantly playing in his head

Since my last soulmate AU was sad I should do another fluffy one so Ty for the prompt.

Eddie doesn't really remember a time a song wasn't playing in his head. He assumes there was probably a time when he was little bit his memories of childhood are fuzzy at best anyway. However, no matter how loud he plays his metal songs, the poppy top 40s songs of his soulmate will often drown them out. It almost drives him insane, until one day all the songs stop.

In the cold winter of 1983, Eddie Munson wakes up one day with no song in his head. This wasn't completely unusual, his soulmate was often an early riser but the holidays were coming up so people slept in more. What was strange however, was there was no song, all day. No song the next day and no song for weeks. Eddie knew something very bad had happened to his soulmate and he didn't know what to do.

Steve will often tell people he does bad at school because his soulmate plays the loudest music. When Steve was a kid the songs would only be now and then but since Steve was nine there was always some loud metal music rattling around his brain. Steve would spend years looking for some cool metal chic, but all the girls he met liked cute pop songs.

Steve was suspicious that Nancy was a secret metalhead when he fell head first in love with her. She wasn't, he wasn't surprised she always had indie music playing in her head. After he faced the Demogorgan, Steve didn't feel like listening to the radio, the staticky sound put him on edge, he sat in his room, all the lights off so they wouldn't flicker, and held his nail bat tightly. He would listen all day for the sound of danger, the only noise he heard was his soulmate. When his parents returned a few weeks later he had to go back to normal.

When Eddie woke up to some dumb song he heard on the radio once, he almost cried. His soulmate was ok.

In 1984, Eddie's soulmate had another blip, Eddie held his breathe, but the songs would return and his soulmate was ok.

In 1985, Eddie's soulmate had the dumbest songs in his head. Weeks after the fire Eddie would figure out he heard the same songs playing in the mall. He was glad he could still here them, his soulmate was still ok.

In 1986, Eddie felt bad for his soulmate. He'd been practicing Master of Puppets for weeks as soon as it came out, his soulmate must be sick of it. When everything started happening, Eddie's soulmate was quiet, Eddie hoped he was ok, that he wasn't dead somewhere like Chrissy.

Eddie silently apologised to his soulmate as he played his favourite song once more, he hoped they would forgive him if said song saved the world. As Eddie laid bleeding out in Dustin's arms, he wished he could hear a dumb pop song one more time. Maybe his soulmate was waiting for home on the other side.

...

....

.....

Eddie blinked his eyes open, the lights were bright, wait, bright lights? Eddie looked around as his eyes came into focus, he was in a hospital, he was alive. That wasn't the only surprising thing, Steve Harrington was asleep in a chair next to his bed.

"Hey, pretty boy, wake up."

"E-Eddie? EDDIE! Fuck you're awake! You're ok!"

"Yeah, seems like it, I'm guessing I have you and the others to thank."

"Yeah, couldn't let my soulmate bleed out in that hellhole."

"Soulmate?"

"Dustin told me what song you played."

Steve flicked Eddie's arm.

"Um OW! I'm injured here Stevie have mercy."

"That's for making me listen to that song for weeks, Eds!"

"Well it saved the world didn't it?"

"Yeah I guess it did."

"Plus you made me listen to cheesy pop songs sweetheart so we're even. You um, I thought you were dead sometimes, there would be no songs for weeks, I thought Vecna had killed you when there was no songs again this time."

"Don't like listening to songs when all this shit is going down, distracts me. I don't think my head has ever been as quiet as on that drive it the hospital, don't do that again ok?"

"I promise, Stevie, gonna be stuck with my loud as fuck music for life."

"Sounds good to me, Eds."

Guess Eddie's soulmate was waiting for him on the other side after all.

[virune]

*coughs* first of all please let me say thank you very much for the sonadow food you’ve been posting as of late...I for one have been feasting :D

Now then: NEW AU CONCEPT??? NEW IDEA TO BLAST MY BRAIN AT 37387483 MPH AND TURN MY NEURONS INTO DUST /VPOS

Listen, I normally hate bugs. They scare me, I don't want them touching me, and yet...I can look at your new art with no problems?! How?? (Maybe it has to do with how cute Shadow is at all times—something Sonic clearly appreciates, ehehe)

Really though, the thought of Sonic potentially being trapped in Shadow’s web for a couple days (while Shadow tries to figure out what to do with this guy who’s Seen Him and could potentially lead monster hunters to him), just making kind conversation and generally not treating him like a freak…Sonic slowly uncovering the gentle soul that Shadow is while Shadow realizes that not everyone from the outside world will hate him!!

Ahem. Apologies for the ramble. Please do feel free to ignore this if you weren’t in the mood for Internet People jumping into your inbox to holler at you about their thoughts ^^;;

you are always welcome in my inbox because you are Very Nice to me. i have set aside a little pillow fort with snacks over in the corner for you.

and i'm glad you like the new au!! i think adding the red to shadow's spider peets helped off-set any potential scariness! sonic talks to shadow and bargains for his life (something along the lines of "if you eat me, you get one meal. but if you let me live, i'll bring you multiple meals"). that seems to appeal to shadow, so he agrees. but he doesn't anticipate that he'll grow to enjoy sonic's company and miss him when he's away. and also fall in love hehe

[sirenlulls]

sweet → r. keating (b. skeetz)

pairing —robert keating x fem!reader social media au

summary —where your boyfriend loves annoying you online and people lose their minds

it's so sweet, knowing that you love me. though, we don't need to say it to each other

liked by evehewson, ryanmcmahon_15, and 20,917 others

bobbyskeetz some bassist twat. lake. an ispíní mor. a homeless woman and a cat. bláthana. and some very beautiful lads

yourusername the cat was cuter than you

bobbyskeetz who are you again?

yourusername your ex 🫶🫶

username my parents

yourusername guys don't be fooled by the hard guy act, he bought me the flowers 😁😁

bobbyskeetz i'm sorry but i can't support parasocial relationships. this has to stop.

username i need a relationship like theirs

username sorry mr skeetz but i want to marry that homeless woman

bobbyskeetz oh don't worry about it lad i'm gonna take one for the team. saving the general population and all that

ryanmcmahon_15 you're a very beautiful lad yourself

evehewson a very pretty homeless woman*

yourusername marry me.

liked by gracieabrams, lilamoss, and 1,106,723 others

yourusername dolce and gabbana. food. a smelly burglar. a tipsy gal. a bathtub of drunk gals. vogue. banger. bassist twat. delicious strawberry.

bobbyskeetz thanks for the breakdown, didn't know what i was looking at before

yourusername you are very slow 🫶

bobbyskeetz that bassist twat looks rather dashing

yourusername whatever you need to tell yourself girlie!

bobbyskeetz whoa who's that in the last slide

yourusername pretty sure you said she's a homeless woman?

bobbyskeetz .....a pretty one?

yourusername eve said it first 🥱

evehewson get in line xx

evehewson ur so cool and hip

yourusername ur so rad

maisiehpeters mother!!

username cornelia street supremacy

yourusername lover is such an overhated album

username REAL OMG

liked by lizzymcalpine, bellahadid, and 2,102,611 others

yourusername happy anniversary to the biggest bassist twat in the world, the bane of my existence, and the real reason that taylor swift wrote lover (she told me herself) glad it's you who kicks me off the bed every other night ❤️

username wait how long have they been together?

username 7 years

username WHAT.

devonleecarlson ur so perfect..... and he's there! jk, lots of love to u both ❤️❤️🫶🫶

bobbyskeetz jeez, props to me for hanging on this long

yourusername .......

bobbyskeetz love you ❤️

yourusername love you too 💞💞

yourusername omg he can be nice in public?! 😱😱😱

sirenlulls mother and father fr

whoetoshaw will never forget seeing them out of the gig last year

sirenlulls OMG WITH HER GIVING HIM THE FLOWERS I NEARLY FORGOT THAT WAS SO CUTE

whoetoshaw literally made me believe in love.

username she's a 10 but she calls you a bassist twat

bobbyskeetz still a 10 tbh

liked by graciebrns, shayrudolph, and 20,981 others

bobbyskeetz can't believe it's been 7 years and you're still too cool for me. 💔 happy anniversary to the most beautiful person i know. you're my favourite person to play bird bingo with, my forever hiking partner (no matter how much you might complain), the only person i ever want to boot off the bed in my sleep, my homeless woman. please never realise you could probably bag a model and just stick with your bassist twat instead ❤️

yourusername WHAT TJE FUCK

yourusername my post just seems like shit now

yourusername i actually hate you wtf

yourusername no i don't

yourusername you might be a bassist twat but trust you'll always be my favourite

bobbyskeetz nicest thing you've ever said to me

sirenlulls @whoetoshaw THE CAPTION?? GIRL THIS IS SOME FANFIC SHIT WTF

whoetoshaw babes im crying and it's not even for me what is going on 🥹🥹🥹🥹

username "MY homeless woman" "YOUR bassist twat" im actually going to jump in front of a train

username shutting up the bitches who says they're together for coult real fast

username no you don't understand you guys are so special to me

username they're my babies (they're 23 and im 16)

[chuckeroo777]

Dungeon Meshi Volume 14 Part 3

Eat or be eaten. There is no hierarchy. Eating is, quite simply, the exclusive privilege of the living.

Come on, it's time to eat! What shall we have today?

I think the real takeaway from Dungeon Meshi is that cannibalism is a firm "maybe".

Slurp!

I remember seeing a post a while ago about Dungeon Meshi being fatphobic, and while I kinda see where they're coming from, I don't really agree. It's not exactly controversial to advocate for healthy eating and moderate exercise. While the body types could be a bit more diverse, especially in the main cast, Kui clearly has respect for people of various body types. Have you seen some of the daydream hour stuff?

They know him so well. Chilchuck in particular I think understands best. After all, his succubus becomes what he most desires, but it isn't what he wants.

I love this grumpy old gnome who spits nothing but facts.

This whole sequence is very nice.

So, I know this isn't literal, but do you think Falin would have been able to fully expel the dragon's soul? But even if she could, she chose kindness instead. And that's really nice.

I wonder what the demon thinks about all this. Has it actually learned any sort of lesson from all this? Either way, it at least seems to be taking its defeat as graciously as one would hope.

A precious image. It's all been leading up to this.

So, all the changes I've noticed. First, she has feathers covering most of her body. Some haven't grown in yet, but the coverage seems to match her chimera form, leaving her hands, feet, head, and tummy bare. She has large canines. She might have enhanced strength, though she was known for bashing heads in before her transformation too, so it's hard to tell. She also has normal eyesight, as opposed to her previous nearsightedness.

God, she is just like me.

WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!?!

Everyone loves pizza.

I still say familiars are the best solution. He can both make his own monsters, and observe real monsters through the eyes of his creations.

Oh, quit your bellyaching. A quick detox spell will have you right as rain.

An adorable image, and a fitting ending for an amazing manga.

Of course, it isn't quite over yet.

Glad to see she's doing well. Cat's would totally do this if they could talk.

This is so cute. Just like when you were in school!

Was it ever established what the heck living armor eats? Most shelled mollusks rely mostly on filter feeding, but that doesn't work so well in a terrestrial environment. Then again, we know monsters can supplement their diet with mana, and the mana in this dungeon awakens Kensuke later, so maybe they're super efficient to the point that they only need mana. And iron.

I love these dumbasses.

An important image.

Have I mentioned I love the dynamic these guys have?

One final precious image to end things off. What are the odds his wife is just off-screen?

Thanks to everyone who joined me for this tasty journey. I still have some other stuff cooking, so stay tuned! The Laios Got Eaten AU might be a bit. I'm struggling to figure out how they defeat Thistle or the Demon without Laios. I also have another AU I might write involving an OC. We'll see.

Have a great day, and may all your Meshi be Dungeon.

[kittyball23]

coming to you as a fanfic fellow writer and sorry that this is so straight forward, but i'm having trouble writing intimate scenes with broppy bc every time i try i remember that trolls like guy diamond literally walk around naked and there's nothing there. so i can't help but think the same for branch n poppy T_T have you struggled with this?? how do you go about writing scenes like this with these characters??

Hi! I’d be glad to help as best as I can :)

I can see where the trouble comes in as far as what you are describing. I think that the good thing about the Trolls franchise is that it seems to be a little more flexible as far as rules go. Babies can goo-goo ga-ga and have cute, high-pitched adorable voices like baby Poppy and baby Branch, or they can be deep and sassy like Tiny Diamond. Trolls can reproduce with other entirely different creatures, as seen with Bruce and Brandy. Bergens can eat happiness, and doll-things can suck up literal musical talent by scent. Living creatures can open up and let you drive/live in them, like Rhonda. Trolls can poop out (presumably edible) cupcakes.

I think the first step to writing Broppy intimacy is accepting that literally almost anything appears possible in the Trolls universe! So, even if glitter Trolls strut their stuff au natural, I think that it is very much possible that the regular Pop trolls could have the parts, if you catch my drift 😏

From there, I think it becomes a bit easier. Personally, I don’t dive into the nitty gritty details of the act, but I do like to focus more on the emotional aspect of it, how each of them are feeling about each other via sensory description (seeing the expressions on their faces, hearing their moans/sighs, how their soft/rough their touch feels, kiss taste – I usually default to strawberry for Poppy – and scent – I default to flowery for Poppy, and natueresque for Branch)

Anyhow, I hope this was useful! ✨

[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

I'm so glad I found your account! You guys are very talented <33

I know canonically Mortdecai isn't, uh, amazing with kids but what if a Marigold members daughter started hanging around the building (like Ivy did when she was younger) and she reminded Mortdecai of one of his sisters (Esthers moodiness or Roses cheeriness)? I'd love some headcanons about the scenario^^

I wasn't going to write this until later but I absolutely had to jump ahead of schedule and write this because it nagged at my mind almost all week. You even started an AU for the other mods and I, anon. This little idea is so tasty and adfghfgferhrj

You are the biggest brain and I hope you don't mind that me and Iphiko (and maybe even Rory!) had a little taste of this drink ourselves first. Different bottle, don't worry, we haven't touched any of what's in your hand right now

Also thank you so much for your kind words! I'm really glad you guys are enjoying these things (as if the inbox flooding wasn't proof enough), it makes us Lackadaisy Moonshiners so happy and gives me an excuse to keep writing. You're all awesome!

At first, it almost stings. He still remembers Ivy, after all; her wandering around following Viktor or whoever caught her eye whenever she could. It was cute. Adorable, even.

But Mordecai seems to be the target of this little beast's attention. And no amount of waving her off, gently pushing her away with his foot or annoyed threats will get her to pick someone else.

The Savoys are enamored with the little bugger. Serafine started calling her "Bébé Couteau" (Baby Knife) after being allowed to teach her some knife tricks (why Asa let them put a knife in the hands of a kitten, Mordecai will never know) and Nico picked up the habit of startling the little girl by picking her up and spinning with her...Which slowly evolved into throwing her across the bloody bar into Serafine's arms after an accident that resulted in the kitten getting yeeted by a distracted Nico (apparently she loved it (and to Serafine's credit, she ran like Hell to catch her); so it's not exactly safe but it's okay??)

Several speakeasy attendees mistake her to be Mordecai's kitten since she's always hanging around him (and especially so if she's a Tuxedo cat). It probably doesn't help that he loudly objects to the twins throwing the kitten back and forth like a football and has even ripped her out of their arms once or twice

They also (correctly) assume that he calls the shots when it comes to her. If she's making trouble or is heading somewhere that she shouldn't be, someone has to work up the courage to tell that ferocious shadow of Asa's. It's him, the queen cat that looks like she's constantly considering stabbing you or the heartthrob at the bar vicious son of a bitch who always looks like he knows that he's better than you

It's an unspoken rule between the three that Mordecai's word is law when it comes to the kitten. He hates this and is sure that they just use this as another excuse to tease him.

Asa scares the Hell out of the poor little thing. He tried greeting her once and she burst into tears and ran to Mordecai so he could protect her. The twins thought this was hysterical: the kitten adores the ground Mordecai walks on, laughs at Serafine's threats and thinks Nico throwing her at a soft target as hard as he can is the bee's knees; but Asa Sweet-the big fat cat with the softest features out of all of them-scares the living daylights out of her.

Mordecai thinks the kitten has a good judge of character sometimes. If it wasn't for her love of the chaotic duo he'd say that out loud

They brought the kitten along to a "meeting" once when she were sick with a fever. She cried when Mordecai left the car and Serafine refused to leave until she was comforted or at least sleeping, so (after some arguing and sweet-talking) Mordecai went back for her. When he didn't leave the vehicle for a few minutes, the Savoys went on without him.

They came back to find him reading a book, the kitten snuggled up against his side and sound asleep tucked under his coat and arm. The soft look in Morde's eye told Nico that maybe this wasn't the time to be teasing him.

This didn't stop Serafine. Mordecai hasn't heard the end of that event. (Asa also gave him some Hell for leaving the twins to do the dirty work, but Serafine and Nico shut him down pretty quickly-they found whatever crate he wanted, no witnesses are around to tell the tale, the job was done just fine and the kitten needed him more than they did. Shut up, Mr. Sweet.)

Whoever's daughter the kitten is, they'd better learn to deal with Mordecai becoming her guardian angel of death. If she doesn't have a parent and just wandered in somehow, she's gonna end up with something better: an aunt that'll teach her to kill and how to stay strong, an uncle that'll toss her around like a hot potato and teach her to be fearless and another uncle that'll pretend to not care for her until someone looks at her the wrong way.

Mordecai, Serafine and Nico. Probably the worst-fitting cats to be any kind of parental figures, yet ones that will guard a mutually-adopted kitten until their final breaths-whether they'll admit to it or not.

[bonny-kookoo]

Kaleidoscope: Heart

Tags/Warnings: Alien! Jungkook, Alien!Jimin, Alien!Yoongi, Human!Reader, strangers to lovers, poly!AU, tentacles (lord forgive me for I will sin), long tongues and sharp teeth and horns and tails and who's even surprised anymore?

Additional Chapter Warnings: soft, fluff, so much fluff

Length: short

Other content: Intro, Bonding

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

After a few weeks of living together, everyone has gotten used to your ways of communication, your ways of putting each of them in some sort of role for you. It's very interesting to observe you each day, your behavior sometimes oddly charming in its own unique ways.

In short; you're just really cute.

Yoongi is also very much happy about the fact that you seem to actively seek him out for help nowadays, the wall of wariness finally overcome as he's become your first choice if anything starts to confuse or overwhelm you. Seasonal storms outside? If you don't want to sleep alone you can always sneak into Yoongis bed, even if the others are home too (they will actively cuddle you no questions asked). Can't read something in a store, but it looks interesting? Just pull on his sleeve, and make sure to point it out, and he will in detail try to explain to you what it is you're wondering about.

Jungkook at this point, has become a protector of sorts. The world outside can be scary, especially with all the new things you're experiencing, like traffic and seasonal festivals. Fear instantly glues you to his side, but his presence also boosts your curiosity; if he approaches something with no signs of worry, then you will go along as well, no questions asked. It makes Yoongi always keen on keeping an eye out for you both however; since Jungkook sometimes does forget that there's things he can easily deal with that could very much prove to be fatal- like certain foods or heights for example. You don't have the assistance of a tail and extra appendages to secure you on higher levels, nothing there to break your fall if you were to loose balance at any point.

And Jimin takes the full role of a more caring person for you.

Be it by making sure you take your vitamins and supplements every day, to keeping track of your doctors appointments; Jimin has it all together it seems. And while he takes great care of your physical body, he also makes sure to care for your mental health as well. His kind, after all, always thrives towards perfect balance in mind and body, so he makes sure you always know that with them, you're safe and protected and always cared for. Safety is an important factor to heal; and he knows, there's much for you to heal from.

"She sleeps a lot." Jungkook mumbles almost disappointed, watching you nap on the blankets laid out for you on the living room floor by Yoongi a few days earlier. You seem to appreciate that greatly, finally resting wherever, whenever- no longer worried of any danger with them around. "Is that normal?" He wonders, tapping your nose.

"Yeah, Humans do generally need around 7 hours of sleep at that age." Jimin nods, while Yoongi clicks his tongue.

"Jungkook, leave her be." He scolds, making the youngest alien in the room almost pout.

"But, why do those tiny bodies need so much rest. It doesn't make sense!" He says, sitting up now close to you while you stretch, before turning around and curling into a different position.

Jimin shrugs from the side, joining you on the blanket pile. "They're simply different. And considering everything, I'm glad she feels finally safe enough to be as vulnerable as right now around us." He hums with a small smile.

"True." Yoongi nods. "I didn't think she'd become so relaxed so quickly." He says more or less to himself.

"Well, we're simply the best mates ever." Jungkook scoffs. "So no surprise there."

"You're so cocky." Jimin teases, before he lays down close to you.

"No come on, you can't be serious." Jungkook whines, watching his mate pull you close to him before he closes his eyes. And much to his disagreement, yoongi joins in not long after. "Seriously?" He growls impatiently, making both aliens laugh a little to themselves while hugging you in one way or another.

"You're stupid." Jungkook huffs, though he does join in as well.

And ends up sleeping just as long as you, in fact.

[beanghostprincess]

Sanuso Modern AU in which Sanji works as a waiter at the Baratie and Zoro invites Usopp to have dinner with him because Usopp's art school is close to Zoro's dojo. And so Usopp assumes (biggest mistake. Don't assume anything when it comes to this green-haired dumbass) that Zoro has money and will be the one paying. So of course, when they finish eating and they actually have to pay, Zoro says that he doesn't have any money with him and just assumed (biggest mistake. Don't assume Usopp will ever willingly pay when he could just take advantage of his best friend) that Usopp had money with him.

So, of course, Zoro tells him to wait there at the table. His apartment is close and he can just go there and grab the money! Usopp's second biggest mistake: Don't ever let Zoro walk home alone. Don't ever let Zoro be responsible for money stuff, either.

But Usopp realizes that fairly late when an hour has passed already and the staff is looking at him weirdly. He keeps chewing on the bread they had left and drinking water to look less suspicious, but he's dying from anxiety and Zoro just won't pick up the phone!

They're getting ready to close the restaurant and of course, they just had to send someone to tell him to pay and fuck off or- Or go to jail? What- What do they do to you when you don't pay in a restaurant? Is it like stealing? Usopp is going to die. They're going to murder him with the same knives they used to cut the chicken he ate.

The guy who approaches him with the bill seems exhausted and uninterested and Usopp really, really doesn't want to look up. "Glad you liked our shitty restaurant, but it's time to hit the hay for some and my boss wants me to kick your ass as quick as possible. So why don't you make this easier for both of us and just pay already instead of licking bread like a starving orphan."

Usopp is visibly shaking when he speaks up. "Uh- Yeah! Of course! Can't- Can't you add it to my-"

"We don't do that here, smartass, try something else. Like paying."

"Yes. Of course. I- I'll have you know I am the son of a very rich owner of a conglomerate and I'm just waiting for my chauffeur to come pick me up and give me my credit card! I just forgot I left it on the back of the limousine, silly me!"

There's a silence after that. A long, uncomfortable, and anxious silence that's only filled with the sound of other waiters cleaning the tables and moving chairs.

Then, the guy sits right in front of him. "Your friend ditched you, didn't he?"

And Usopp can't keep lying anymore, so he sighs while he looks up at the guy in front of him. "Forgot the money. He probably got lost on his way home."

The guy frowns, and Usopp doesn't have enough time to process how hot and handsome and classy and effortlessly cute he looks right now. With his long (Yes, Sanji has long hair here) hair in a bun and his tie undone. "That's pretty messed up." And he's being so genuine and serious about it that it almost scares Usopp, thinking Sanji might have taken it the wrong way.

"No! No. He's just a dumbass. And he- He lives literally not even two blocks away. He just can't tell between right and left."

"Dyslexic?"

"He's just stupid, but don't ask him to spell anything, either. I actually think he should go get that checked, though?"

And that makes the guy laugh. Like- Smile. With teeth and everything. And for a moment, Usopp doesn't give a fuck about the money.

"Tried calling him?"

"A few times. Then my phone died. And here we are! Are- Are you going to..."

"Going to do what, handsome?"

Okay. No. This waiter is going to be the death of him.

"Uh- If- If he doesn't come here."

"What would you want me to do?" And he rests his chin on the palm of his hand and whispers that so lewdly that it almost makes Usopp have a stroke. But then he laughs again, and just looks around the room before resting his back on the sit. "What I'm going to do is give you a phone charger, first and foremost. And then I'll keep you company while the dumbass of your friend comes here. Worst case scenario, you stay with us for a week cleaning dishes."

Usopp is starting to wonder if that really would be the worst-case scenario.

Long story short, Sanji gives him a phone charger and they stay at that table together for a long, long while. The restaurant is pretty much closed already but Sanji (that's the waiter's name. Sanji. Sounds good on Usopp's lips) stays with him. He tells Usopp about how he wishes he could be a real cook instead of just a waiter, but his father (surprisingly the owner of the restaurant) won't let him actually be a cook for real until he says so. Which seems to frustrate him, but still he speaks about his father with endearment. Usopp tells him about Zoro being stupid and one thing leads to another and he's telling him about anecdotes of his friend group. Sanji mentions Luffy, a friend of his that always comes here to eat, and how he would probably get along with Zoro because they're both dumbasses.

And the night keeps going. And going. And going. And it doesn't seem like Sanji is staying only to keep an eye on Usopp. It almost looks like he's flirting, and Usopp, somehow, has enough confidence to flirt back.

But of course, they had to ruin it. Someone knocks on the door of the restaurant and they both assume it's Zoro, but it's actually Nami instead. Zoro called her and told her everything, yadda yadda. She's exhausted and by the looks of her outfit, she was probably out partying when this happened. Usopp kind of wants to tell her to go away and leave them alone, but he just can't do that with Sanji in front of them.

Whatever. She pays for him. Adds it to his and Zoro's debt. And walks away, waiting for Usopp outside.

They both want to see each other again, that much is clear. But they're both also stupid, so neither asks for the other's phone number. And Usopp goes away without saying a word besides "Sorry I made you spend a Friday night with a stranger. At work, of all places."

To which Sanji responds with: "Well, despite what I said before, I really like my work. And I really, really liked that stranger, Usopp."

And it ends there.

Or it doesn't, because at some point they see each other again. Whether it's because Usopp goes to the Baratie again or because Sanji shows up suddenly in Usopp's art school. I won't say because I have no idea and this is just a concept, but I found it sweet!!!

[an-au-blog]

First of I am so glad you got some joy out of my misunderstanding, second, still going of the kidnapped au… the… unclenapped… au? Anyways :

Yes yes definetly absolutely he’d get along great with Robin. He’d get along with… basically all of the strawhats because I wield the canon stick and say he’s the clown uncle of the group now goddamn, but with her especially it’s a special kind of kinship just because to some point, hes been there. One of those relationships were to the outsiders those two have nothing in common but in actuality they are close in the “nobody on here quite gets this like we do” type of way.

… also considering other dynamics tough:

Nami: Horrible enabler, both of them, real Grunkle Stan hours, he to her most of the time because he is just as morally bankrupt as she can be at times and they both make a ruthless scamming team. Real Grunkle Stan vibes. (It usually falls upon Usopp to try and keep them from doing something utterly dumb just because “It seemed profitable” in the moment.)

Chopper: “The dad who didn’t want a cat” vibes. “OH COME ON ARE YOU SERIOUS? HES LIKE TWELVE! THATS THE BEST MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL WE COULD GET?” Two days later *brushing Choppers fur out on a hard to reach spot for him and refusing to move him when he falls asleep on his shoulder” Still gives him food related nicknames like “tenderloin” sometimes and pretends he’s going to eat him all the time (Zoro usually intervenes by just gripping his sword a bit tighter and Buggy is suddenly very well behaved for at least a few more hours.)

Unclenapped lmao golden! Every group needs a cranky uncle and that's a fact

I didn't even think about Nami but yes i see it. Oh, they would be a force to be wrecked with when it comes to money, I can already hear them rubbing hands and scheming.

And the Chopper bit is soooo cute I need this omg :')

ALSO! speaking of Zoro, I feel like he'd use Buggy for target practice because... well, he can't die from it and Buggy would just hide from him whenever Zoro's training. Maybe he even hides in the kitchen because he hopes if Zoro picks fights with Sanji he'll forget about him. Plus Sanji wouldn't mind as long as he's not being a nuisance.

And here's a hot take, that I'm ready yo hear you out if you don't agree:

He wouldn't get along with Jinbe. I feel like he'd just be a living remember of his captive days.

And maybe he'd also not want to be around Franky either. He wouldn't hate him or anything but i feel like he'd think he's weird and too loud. He'd definitely appreciate his skills and maybe have a little admiration moment of "wow you can build that? can you build me this?" or something.

[moonlight-sonata99]

Hiii! I apologize in advance for the rambling and the chaos that is this request LOL

Can I please request a soulmate au!Namor x fem!human!reader where she’s very clumsy, jumpy/gets startled easily, but also really bubbly, and she’s traveling on vacation, and she’s on walking around on the beach when she trips over her own feet, and kinda tumbles down a hill, happening to fall into Namor’s cave (Lol I’m telling that I would be this clumsy ☠️, also tell me why I imagined the Princess Bride scene when she falls down the hill lol, I’m sorry for the chaos…) She lands sitting up, legs sprawled out, hair in front of her face, all right in front of Namor, like literally in front of him, at his feet, and screams at the top of her lungs 🤣☠️ He’s looking down at her in disbelief (but also anger because she’s a surface dweller in his home), she’s looking up at him with a mix of fear and embarrassment, trying to stutter out an excuse while also trying to piece together how this man is clearly not human… And she also feels drawn to him. All the while Namor pieces together why he didn’t immediately act on this trespasser, and also feels drawn to her. This cute, chaotic little human is his soulmate 🥰 Their strong connection only grows and grows, he asks her to stay (not that she ever wanted to leave) be his Queen (he makes her be able to age slow like him, and also breathe underwater), and he’s also really protective of her and super soft with her, she’s his little Angel (also she makes him laugh a lot)🥺🥺

Hi!! Sorry this took awhile but here it is!! thank you for being my first request it means so much to me!!! i-i kinda got carried away but i hoped i did well:]

The Girl

Namor x Female!Reader!

The soft winds blew and the waves crashed against the sand. Everything was as it should be, For now at least. The girl who sat on the sand hoped, gazing at the water that captured her attention with every move. 

‘I'm so glad to have gotten that time off...’ she thought closing her eyes. she stood up and began to walk on the soft sand and her eyes drifted to the empty beach.

‘Also lucky to have all to myself it seems!” she chuckled and walked further admiring the view.

With time she stumbled into a small save with a small opening. She was filled curiosity, a something drew her to it. It was odd, 

Before she could even think, her body felt heavy.And she fell into the hole and the girl screamed into the darkness as she flailed helplessly in the air.

She could not think as only fear occupied her mind. Then her back hit the rough floor and she groaned.

“Urgh..” rubbing her shoulder she looked around, She was in a cave illuminated by a blue glow. ad the rocks were a beautiful color. One she could not described. She was never good at describing things. If she were to tell her friends or family about this, lets just say she would never do it justice. 

“At least I'm not dead..” She mumbled in pain as she slowly lifted herself up.

At first her groans went unnoticed by the man who had his attention solely on his art, He slowly guided the brush against the wall. He thought of nothing. Taking the brush away from the wall he stood back to examine it. As he stood there the  groan reached his ears and he turned his head quickly. He made his way out of the small hut. His gaze landed on the girl who was stretching and rubbing the small scratches she had sustained. She had her back towards him and didn't notice his presence.

“Who are you?!” He asked his voice stern and the girl turned around quickly jumping from the sudden scare.

“Oh- you scared me!” she exclaimed looking at the man who stood before her. He had cloth around his body that hung loosely. And she noted the supposed gold that adorned his shoulders. But most importantly she stared at his ears and ankles. His ears were pointed up like a elf. His ankle had a wing.

The man noticed that she was staring and began once more,

“I'm not asking you again, Who.are.you.” his voice was more stern by the second. and the fear began to well in her chest.

“i-i uh....” she mumbled before telling him her name. The man before her still looked serious, his gaze deadly. If looks could kill she thought. i would be dead now i think.

“How did you get here?” he asked again, His accent revealing itself.

The girl fumbled as she lifted her hand slowly to show she meant no harm. Upon seeing that he didn't react harshly she lifted her hand to the hole on the top of the cave.

“i fell from up there..” she explained looking at the hole and there man looked up to the hole, examining it. the girl thought.

“can i have your name?” she asked twiddling her fingers and the man shifted his gaze back to her. “i've never seen anyone like you if i am honest” she admitted,

and handsome, she added only in thought of course. the only continued to examined her. For what reason? the girl thought,but she didn't dare to ask judging from his reaction.

“What are you?” he asked suddenly ignoring her previous questions.

“what am i..?” she repeated as the man in front of her nodded already seeming to let loose.

“Im just a traveler, im traveling for my vacation.” she explained, The man seemed to loosen up alot after that.

“A traveler?” he repeated and the girl nodded,

“yes, im taking a break from my job so i came here.” she explained.

“The man in front of her smiled loosely,

“I see, sorry if i scared you. As you can see this is where i spend my time privately” he explained gesturing inside the house where the murals stood. The girl followed his hands to it.

“Ah..!how pretty” she exclaimed with a small smile on her face. “But..if i can ask how exactly do you get out and in...?” she asked looking around.

The man in front of her only chuckled and looked away,

“Come let me show you.”

Time passed at the two somehow grew close, The man introduced himself as namor, The king of Talokan. To the girl surprise at the time it was added to the list of amazing things about him. She wondered about her life before, Whether she should return. (She didn't really want to) 

Its was not like she had anyone up there to return to. All she had was her work, which..she was most likely to be fired from by now as her vacation had long ended. 

She sighed into the air as she waited. Namor had gone to attend to his people as he usually did. it was a routine that she unconsciously fallen into. He would leave for hours and she would wait here for him. However there had been a thought that had plagued her for a while now.

‘Was there someway to join them?’ she thought,Namor had told her stories in intricate detail about how his people lived, how they would pluck their versions of seafruits off of long vined with big leaves, How he had brought the sun to his people, How it ascended and fill the place with light. The girl had tried hard to imagine it. But a last they were only images in her brain and she had longed to se it in person. 

Despite her longing to see Talokan, She had also hoped to stay with man who ruled over it. This time they spent together was already the time she would cherish when he was gone, was it to early to say she loved him..? maybe. But she did know she didn't want to be apart from him. Not now not ever. 

As if he had heard her thoughts the sound of water splashing reached her ears, and she turned to look at the source,

“Namor!” she said with a smiling sitting up and running to him, The King smiled back at her making his way out of the pool.

“How was it?” she asked him as they both sat on chairs and she leaned on the table sitting across from him. Namors brown eyes met hers and he began to speak.

“It is the usual” He replied, as he always did. But still The girl listened to him as he explained the simple troubles his people faced, His face seemed to beam when he did talk about his people. It was admirable she thought. As he continued about a quarrel between a child and his sister. How they fought over a ball they had gotten from their parents. a chuckle left the girls lips thinking of the faces small children make when they were mad.

He continued, and she listened.

After a while, he stopped and stood up to look at his murals. This was something The girl had not asked about, she forgot where she heard it, But it was something along the lines that artist (Not all) are somewhat shy when people showed their work. Though the question lingered on the tip of her tongue every time she spoke to him.

She never asked. 

Today though, she stood up and walked besides him. They both admired the murals in silence. until...

“Which one is this one about..?” she asked the tip of her fingers grazing among the painted wall. It was smooth and felt like all the other walls she touch in her life. But unlike the others this one was painted like no other.

Namor, shifted his gaze to where the girl laid. 

It was was one of a man who fought a black feline, at least that what it seemed like to you.

“ Do you remember the fight with the black panther i told you about?” he asked and you nodded recalling the story. “ I painted this shortly after” he said also placing a hand next to the girls

“It beautiful,” she breathed out looking at it, Their fight would forever adorn these walls, twenty-years...fifty-years...sixty...and so on. They would last even me, The girl thought. And a feeling of anxiety rushed over her.

In years to come he would be sitting here, Alone. As he did before” she thought

With another breath the girl turned towards namor,

“That story you told me, The one of your mother” she said and namor turned his gaze back to her.

“Yes?” he asked his brown-eyes filled with curiosity. 

“That plant..” she said, trailing off struggling to get the words out.

‘what if he said no?’

‘what if-’ she cut her thoughts off by shaking her head.

“That plant you said they took..can i have it?” she blurted out. Namor eyes widened clearly taken aback by her question,

“What do you mean?” he asked, before she answered he seemed to piece the puzzles together.

“You want to turn..” he thought for a moment

and the girl thought, some reason...She expected to be bombarded with questions. But she remembered the time they spent together, The laughs. everything.

“ I planned on asking you.” he said as if he had heard her thoughts.

“I just wanted to see if you ever would ask.” he said with a grin, as the girl smiled “Really? huh..guess i beat you to it then” she said smiling as namor chuckled. and looked into her eyes with a serious look,

“Im only asking this once..”. he said his voice low now, “do you tr-”

“Yes” she cut him off, “i’ve thought about it already, so..yes.”

A small smile formed on his lips, “Alright, “

‘One more thing...” she said and held his arm. “I want to thank you, Really. you could have killed me when you first saw me but..you didn't.” She explained looking into his eyes. “Thanks!” she said again with a smile The king smiled back at her.

“It was weird.” he admitted looking away and walking out of the hut and to the small pools of water, 

“I felt..an..” he trailed off deciding what to say next. He looked back to the girl and shook his head smiling. 

“I want you to stay.” he admitted and gestured to the girl to come closer. SHe did just that and felt the water on her feet.

“ i want to ask you one more thing” He said with a new found intensity which the girl noticed as he looked at her.

“ for exchange for turning you, I want you to be the Queen.” he stated looking at the girl as her eyes widened, Though flustered mostly she was happy. With a newfound confidence she nodded, Namor smiled and placed a hand on her cheek and kissing her softly.

So many things happening at once, the girls heart raced thinking about what happened and how quickly it was happening.

soon after Namor left again to get the flower and arrived shortly after. As he placed the glowing gel from the plant onto a small bowl, the girls heart raced in excitement. She watched as Namor took the bowl and laid her down on the floor where he had laid out a small blanket,

“Okay, You may fall asleep after so just close your eyes” he instructed as he laid the girl down into the blanket as she nodded and the man lifted the bowl to her lips and what was once glowing gel was now reduced to liquid slowly made her way inside her mouth and she swallowed it.

It was dark for her after that. The girl slept for a while, and then her eyes opened and she gasped while sitting up. Namor who waited patiently besides her held her shoulders.

“Breath...Breathe...” he whispered as the girl tried her best to calm,  Namor helped her up and walked back towards the water. Now calm, The girl stood besides Namor as they both stared at the water, 

“Are you ready?” he asked taking her hand in his as she turned to look at him. 

‘Im ready.” she whispered, He gave her a small smile and looked back 

‘Let's go then.” he stated jumping in first and disappearing in the water, He was waiting for her.

The girl stood at the edge of the pool, She breathed and closed her eyes. She thought of Talokan and all its beautiful wonders, The sun rising from out of the Namor temple. The people who plucked their fruits and foods swimming though the water. With one last breath, the girl placed a foot in the water.

The cool water surrounded it,

She removed her foot and stumbled back. She ran and jumped in the air feeling its last remnant's in those few seconds. 

Then she landed into the water,

Into its beautiful blue world.

[gunilslaugh]

Hi I love your work it’s so unique and creative! I was wondering if you could do when where XDH has a soulmate who tends to pass out easily, how they would react the first time, and how they would care for them? Or possibly how they would care for someone with a health condition? I pass out easily and it sucks sometimes and I was wondering how it would seem or look if someone wrote about it!🤗 thank you!

Hello thank you I'm glad that you like my work! I hope I wrote your request well.

Disclaimer: I'm no health specialist, so I apologize for any inaccuracies that may be in this.

All members = 0 • 0 =

Summary: Xdinary Heroes reaction to finding out their s/o has a health condition (faints easily). [idol/non-idol au]

WC:~1.4k

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Gunil takes your health condition very seriously. The first time you fainted in front of him he just about had a heart attack. He was so concerned about you. 

The two of you were hanging out in his room. He was sitting over at his desk working on something while you made yourself comfortable on his bed. You came across a post that excited you and popped up from the bed in excitement to go show Gunil.

“Look at thi-” Mid sentence you the room went black. Gunil is throwing himself up from his chair to catch you before you hit the ground.

“Y/n! y/n!,” Gunil frantically called your name as he held you in his arms. He moves to place you on his bed. He presses his fingers to your neck to feel for your pulse and lets out a big breath of relief when he finds it. He goes to get a wet cloth and gently pats your face with it. Your eyes slowly start to open.

“Gunil,” you say once you come to. 

“Y/n. What was that? You scared me so bad.” He carefully pulled you into his embrace. You proceed to explain to him about your health condition. Ever since then he has paid extra attention to you. Trying his best to help you manage your health condition.

Jungsu

You passing out in Jungsu’s arms definitely wasn’t the way Jungsu anticipated you greeting him. It had been a while since the two of you had last seen each other. Both of you finally had the time to see one another again. When Jungsu texted you that he was outside your door you couldn’t contain your joy as you ran to the front door throwing it open and then throwing yourself into Jungsu’s arm. It was a cute moment until Jungsu felt you go slack in his arms. 

“Y/n?” he called you. No answer. He pulled back, keeping his hold on you to discover that you had passed out. “Y/n!” he shouted your name. He carries you over to your couch, laying you down. He places a pillow under your head. He debates if he needs to call 911 or not, but then he sees you starting to come to. “Y/n,” he softly said your name. One of his hands stroking your hair. 

“Did I faint?” you asked. Jungsu nodded. 

“Scared the life out of me,” he tells you.

“Sorry, my health condition makes me faint easily,” you informed him.

“I’m just glad that you’re ok.” Jungsu has you tell him more about your condition, so he knows exactly how to help you if something goes wrong. He becomes very attentive towards you. 

Gaon/Jiseok

One minute the two of you were jumping up and down in the kitchen. The next Jiseok is catching your limp body before you fall onto the ground. The pair of you were experimenting in the kitchen trying to figure out a dessert recipe. You guys had already failed twice before. However this time seemed to go well. It looked much better than your other two previous attempts. All that was left to do was taste it. You and Jiseok broke out into celebration, jumping up and down upon the discovery that it tasted good. That’s when you went down. 

“Y/n! y/n! Don’t tell me you just dropped dead!,” Jiseok panicked as he held you in his arms on the kitchen floor. First he shakily checked for your pulse. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, “You’re still alive.” He put his hand to your forehead, but it didn’t feel like you had a fever. Your eyes started to blink open. 

“We’re the kitchen lights always this bright?” You groaned. 

“Who cares about the kitchen lights? I thought you died!” Jiseok held you closer to him.

“Sorry, but I’m ok. I have a health condition that causes me to faint,” you tell him. 

“How come you didn’t tell me before? I was so scared.” Jiseok feels better now that he knows, but he’ll still be terrified if you faint again.

O.de/Seungmin

He was aware of your health condition, but somehow it didn’t help at all the first time he witnessed you faint because of it. 

Both of you were out taking a stroll. The sun was shining brightly creating a toasty warmth. It wasn’t too hot.  At least that’s what you thought, but your health condition apparently thought otherwise. Because you felt the loss of control over your limbs and the bright sunny day turned dark. One good thing was that you did happen to fall against Seungmin, who was quickly able to support you, instead of face planting or falling backwards. Seungmin appeared calm on the outside as he took you over to a shaded area. However he was greatly panicking on the inside. 

“Y/n, wake up please.” He gently tapped your cheek. It was probably only a few minutes, but to Seungmin it felt like eons before you opened your eyes. Once you were awake Seungmin was helping you sit up and offering you water. 

“I knew you said that there was the possibility of you fainting, but that was so much scarier than I thought it would be,” Seungmin confessed. 

“Sorry, I think you handled it well though,” you say. 

“You should tell me more about how to take care of you. I don’t want to not know what to do again.” Seungmin was serious about learning all about your health condition.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

Hyeongjun was having trouble processing exactly what just happened. Only some minutes ago you were convincing him to dance with you in the middle of your living room.

“Come on please? It will be fun I promise,” you pleaded. Hyeongjun couldn’t say no to you when you looked at him like that. He was a little stiff and awkward in the beginning, but then he started to loosen up. He had just spun you when suddening he felt the weight of your body pulling him, due to your linked hands from the spin. Hyeongjun went stumbling to catch himself and you. The two of you landed safely on the floor. Hyeongjun quickly grabs a pillow to support your head. He sits right next to you, trying to figure out what just happened and what he should do. He got an inhalant that was supposed to help when someone passes out. He held it up to your nose and soon enough you were stirring awake. 

“Oh thank god. What happened?” Hyeongjun helps you sit up. 

“It was probably because of my health condition it causes me to faint. Sorry you must’ve been scared.”

“Out of my mind. Are you alright? Should you go to the hospital?” You shook your head. 

“No, I'm alright,” you reassured him. Hyeongjun has you tell him about your health condition while he holds your hands.

Jooyeon

At first Jooyeon thought that you were playing a joke on him. The two of you were bickering about what movie you should watch. 

“But y/n we’ve seen that movie like a hundred times, can’t you pick something else?” Jooyeon asked. 

“No, if I don’t watch it I will die.” you dramatically threw yourself against the couch. Maybe a bit too dramatically because your sudden action caused you to faint. 

“Haha, very funny,” Jooyeon remarked. “How about this one? Didn’t you say you wanted to see it?” Jooyeon questioned only to be met with your silence. He looks over to you still “fainted” “Seriously? Do you really want to watch that movie so bad?” Again you didn’t respond and now Jooyeon is starting to panic. He moves over to where you lay. “Y/n.” nudged you. “Y/n!” he said more frantically, shaking you. Realizing that you weren’t faking being passed out. “This isn’t funny. Fine, we can watch that movie just wake up!” With all his shaking you did start to come to. 

“Can you stop shaking me? My head is swimming,” you say. 

“Sorry,” Jooyeon immediately apologized. “But what happened? Why did you actually faint?” It was clear that Jooyeon was concerned. You went on to explain your health condition to him. Jooyeon never complained about you wanting to watch that movie ever again.

Taglist: @purplelady85 @odesonnets @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @dazzlinglight