#also i want to write my thesis on this and what if the professor says no

[umilily]

starting tomorrow i have a one week course that will either be the best thing to ever happen to me during my academic career or the absolute worst and i don't know how to feel about that.

[vxnuslogy]

– love’s thesis.

pairing: alhaitham x gn!reader

premise: the most logical thing to do when you find out your pretend lover is actually your soulmate? conduct a research and fall in love in the process.

– warnings: inaccurate/unrealistic depictions of college, modern au.

– author's note: i write one long fic for alhaitham and suddenly that old project i have for him back in april is suddenly back. | ~5.9k words.

to say that alhaitham was royally fucked would be an understatement. he was behind three lectures, had a major paper he’s yet to touch, and now, with the sudden appearance of his soulmate mark, he wasn’t sure what to tackle first.

alhaitham let out a long exasperated sigh, hand coming to drag down his already tired face as he irritatedly tapped on his table. the white screen of his laptop blinded him as the clock ticked, a constant reminder that he was losing time if he didn’t type out at least a sentence to his professor–or to you. a low grumble left his lips when he closed his device and left his room to get another cup of coffee. mind swimming with how he was going to approach you, or if he was even going to say the implications of having your name written on his forearm.

when he reached the living space of his apartment, there you were, in the same position and predicament as him. you looked up from your books and gave him a weary and crooked smile. eyes sunken and hair a mess but all alhaitham could see was how the lamp light on the coffee table illuminated your features. the pounding of his heart was back and all he could offer you was nod before going to the kitchen. this was stupid, he reminded himself. how could the person he’s been fake dating for sheer convenience be his actual soulmate. you, who dreams of fairytales and happily ever after, his soulmate? alhaitham scoffed in disbelief as he waited for the coffee machine to finish his drink.

his mind was torn; alhaitham’s rationality screaming at him to just be honest and tell you now but the more curious side of him wanted to test out this soulmate thing. from the corner of his eye, he sees you stretch your arms over your head and let out a tired sigh. books and papers and devices scattered on his floor as you push your hair out of your face. up until a few hours ago, you were nothing more than a footnote in his life, but now as his eyes took another glimpse over the inking of your name, alhaitham begins to wonder if offering to be your fake boyfriend was also part of fate’s plans.

just then, when the coffee machine finished his drink, an idea popped into his mind. something that would quench his curiosity over the idea of soulmates and finish this thesis he’s yet to even start on. and it would only take 4 steps.

--

STEP 1: THE PROPOSAL

this was abnormal behavior for alhaitham. he has never felt so nervous and antsy in his life until now. alhaitham never felt his palms sweat when the panelists grilled him during his presentations or when he nearly fucked up a speech because he had 2 hours of sleep prior. he concluded that it must be the left over adrenaline from stealing kaveh’s concealer to hide your name on his forearm.

he wasn’t ashamed to have you as his soulmate, it was quite opposite now that he thinks about it. you were a proud scholar like him. the only difference was you were in vahamuna and him in harvatat. but that didn’t deter you from engaging in academic banter and debates with him. alhaitham just felt a bit unsure how to approach the topic of soulmates with you, especially when he was the first one to lay down the boundary that everything is purely for convenience and that no feelings should be involved.

“i’m very confused,” your voice cuts through his inner dilemma as you skim over his proposal paper. “is it really okay for me to assist you in this research? wouldn’t faruzan or maybe someone in harvatat be of more help?”

“my topic delves into relationships. seeing as though you are my lover,” alhaitham pauses and he didn’t fail to pick up on the blood rushing to your cheeks when he called you his lover. “you’re my best option.”

there was an amused glint in your eyes when you shook your head. you slowly packed your things and handed his proposal back to him. “this is giving me major deja vu.” the grin on your lips and playful tone also took him to memory lane when he first proposed to this fake date situation.

“i’m assuming this is a yes?” he raised a curious brow at you. the two of you falling into each other’s pace as you left the library.

“it’s a yes.” 

STEP 1: COMPLETED.

--

STEP 2: RESEARCH AND ON FIELD EXPERIMENTS.

once his paper was given the green light, he offered to start when you reached his apartment. having nothing to do, until your groupmates replied to you at least, you entered his space and sat yourself on the floor. opening your laptop while alhaitham went to the kitchen to get you something to drink and munch on, you can’t help but feel so at home. alhaitham notices this every time so he makes a mental note of your behavior for later use.

hours passed and after many coffee drinks, wingstop takeouts, 10 minute power naps, an unintended pillow fight, and blasting random songs to keep you both awake and sanity intact, you and alhaitham decided on a few experiments to conduct on his research.

STEP 2: COMPLETED.

--

STEP 2.1: EMOTIONAL SYNCHRONY UNDER EMOTIONAL EXPERIENCES.

“alhaitham, where did you get that…?”

the gray haired man looked up from his tablet and nodded towards your direction. his eyes glancing over to the heart monitors that were now present in his living room. “the local hospital.”

“you really are full of surprises,” you let out an amused chuckle. dropping your stuff beside the coffee table and sitting next to him, he hands you the many wires of the heart monitor. “how did you even get these to your apartment.”

he got up from his seat and crouched to the level of his tv, not answering your question. sorting through the many movie discs he had rented out for the both of you to watch and test the level of emotional synchrony. “what would you like to watch first?”

alhaitham had never whipped his head back faster in his life when he caught you raising your shirt. showing off your midriff as you attach the wires to your chest. he felt his temperature rise as you answered a simple anything to his question. this was ridiculous, his mind echoed, he’s seen you in a bathing suit when you and his friends went to the beach. alhaitham didn’t understand why he felt so flustered. shoving a random cd into the cd player and taking the remote, he sat back down on the couch. he just prayed that you don’t question the sudden flush on his cheeks.

one horror movie, three romcoms, one tragedy, and one thriller later, you both decided to take a break.

“any progress so far?” you ask with a tilt of your head. 

he hummed in response. “remarkable to say the least.”

alhaitham hands over the tablet to you while he detaches himself from the heart monitor. he made his way to the kitchen and took out two cups from his cupboard. “the study we found last time stated that close companions tend to copy the other’s emotional response under emotional stress.”

“and?” you take the cup he offered gingerly and took a sip. it was coffee, made just how you like it. “how did we do?”

he took a sip of his own and took the tablet back.

“almost perfectly in sync. fascinating isn’t it?”

he tried his best to not show any signs of whatever he was feeling. as remarkable this was, it was a bit scary. and alhaitham didn’t know what to make out of it. he knows that not all soulmates end up together, in fact, a study that was conducted five years ago proved that only a small margin of soulmates live long enough to meet their other half. and an even smaller margin of soulmates actually worked out. it was only the first experiment, the first trial, but alhaitham could feel the arms of inevitability and uncertainty wrap around his ribs and start breaking each bone one by one. 

just by this one experiment alone, when he offered you a tissue to wipe your tears or when you leaned on him for support because of your laughter, alhaitham felt the inevitable pull towards you. 

STEP 2.1: COMPLETED.

--

STEP 2.2: COMMUNICATION AND INTIMACY EXPERIMENT.

it was a busy day at lambad’s cafe. the establishment was housing many students who were all running on little to no sleep and coffee pumping in their veins. project month was proving to be hell on earth for the students. final research defenses and projects were usually held in this time and sometimes the following week would be their finals. it’s a brutal battle against time and insanity, those who don’t have proper time management are almost guaranteed to repeat the year if they receive a single mark that’s below the passing grade.

“geez, busy as always.” you said, scrolling through your phone. 

“i’d be more surprised if no one was busy,” he replied. “kaveh is practically living in his lecture hall.”

you let out a laugh as you put down your phone on the table, face down, as you take a bite off of your snack. “okay, my turn to ask a question.”

“shoot.”

this was today’s experiment. communication and intimacy by using the famous “36 questions to fall in love” as your starting point. in every relationship, not just soulmates, communication needs to be present or else it’ll fall apart sooner or later. conversation let’s people see parts of another they tend to hide. alhaitham wanted to scratch this experiment from the process, but after the last one, he wanted to try if there were any unpredicted outcomes.

many studies have already been conducted on this, alhaitham shouldn’t have a problem finding a supporting article for his thesis. but after just a few questions, he began to think of this experiment as an excuse to get to know you more. he’s not sure if it’s the soulmate thing playing at his mind to get to know you but he suddenly had the urge to absorb every information about you like a sponge. a painful want to know you inside and out; a need to be able to completely explain you to someone else.

“question 27: if you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.”

alhaitham mulled over the question before giving his answer.

“my indifference and wanting to keep most things private does not equate to me not caring about them.” he let his tongue roll over his lips, suddenly feeling parched with the way you were staring at him. “i have high walls, but that doesn’t mean they’re there to ward everyone off. i’m very particular with who i let in, so if they truly want to be my friend, i’d advise them to try until i welcome them in.”

a smile tugged at your lips and alhaitham felt he could finally breathe. “your turn.”

“question 33: if you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? why haven’t you told them yet?”

you let out a hum and leaned back in your seat. “never telling the people i care about that i love them.”

“why haven’t you told them yet?” he asks, crossing both his arms over the table and slightly leaning forward. 

“i don’t know…” you say honestly. a foggy look in your eyes as you stare at the ceiling. “maybe i’m scared it won't sound genuine enough.”

alhaitham wanted to argue that everyone you care about knew that you love them dearly. he was one of those people after all. whatever label you have now was certainly fake, but the vulnerability and care you had for each other wasn’t, and he would die on that hill. 

“well you shouldn’t,” his voice cut through the quiet atmosphere. he hoped that it didn’t sound too harsh. “if they cared about you, they would know whether you're being genuine or not.”

if someone told alhaitham’s younger self that the walls he’d built up would crumble in just 36 questions, he wouldn’t have believed it. he still finds it hard to believe when you both exit the cafe and go your separate ways. but all he can do is accept it. through those questions, he learned more about you–your dreams, values, cherished memories, and vulnerabilities you shared with him first.

ahaitham concluded that this experiment was worth keeping. he felt more connected to you than ever.

STEP 2.2: COMPLETED.

--

STEP 2.3: RESEARCH SYMPOSIUM.

admittedly, this wasn’t in the original list of experiments you and alhaitham had planned but decided to go along with it. the akademiya regularly held a research symposium and had one or two students present preliminary research to batches of students. this year, he was asked to do it and he dragged you to be his partner because who else would he ask. certainly not kaveh.

“do your best! i’ll be backstage if you need anything.” he simply nods at your support and walks to the stage. before beginning, he takes one last glance at you. he didn’t know what urged him to do it, but after seeing you flash him a thumbs up and an encouraging grin, he let a small smile loose before looking towards the batch of students that won’t give a single shit about what he’s saying.

roughly 45 minutes later, alhaitham stepped down the podium and bowed. applause echoed throughout the hall as he made his way backstage to find you. the next batch would be listening to you after all. he stopped in his tracks when he saw you happily chatting with a student he didn't recognize. 

“you’re presentation is next, do your best!” he excitedly said. alhaitham narrowed his eyes when the unfamiliar boy rubbed the back of his nape, a flushed tint reaching his cheeks. “maybe after the day’s over we can go get some coffee?”

how strange it was. ever since your name appeared on his forearm he’d started feeling so many new emotions that he normally wouldn’t imagine feeling. it was an ugly feeling, he concluded. alhaitham didn’t like how relieved he felt when you declined the boy’s invitation and when you caught sight of him, he felt his heart beat rapidly in his ears when you skipped over to him. he already knew why he felt a sudden surge of pride take over him when you drag him further back stage to review your presentation, completely ignoring the other boy. 

it was for research, so why did his arm wrap loosely around your waist like second nature?

STEP 2.3: COMPLETED.

--

STEP 2.4: CREATIVE AND ARTISTIC COLLABORATION.

you were the one who coined this idea after a quick chat with kaveh. for once, the blonde man had an insightful opinion and offered to schedule you and alhaitham to a quick session of painting on your next day offs. now here were the three of you, inside a painting studio with other students in the art department of the akademiya, seated in front of a white canvas and a tray of colors.

from the corner of his eyes, alhaitham took notice of how you and kaveh animatedly chatted. the same ugly feeling he felt that day backstage came back in full throttle. clicking his tongue, he shifted his focus back on the instructor’s voice and followed his instructions. every once in a while, he would take a peek at you and feel something bloom inside his chest when caught a glimpse of that determined look on your face. by the time he looked back at his canvas, he felt the wind inside his lungs be stolen away when he realized he used your colors to paint. 

different shades and strokes of your favorite colors invaded his senses. his own mind playing tricks on him because he could’ve sworn you were peering over his shoulders, hands wrapped around his waist and your chin comfortably set on one of his shoulders. alhaitham felt the ghosts of your warmth and couldn’t help but crave it.

he snapped out of his daydreams when the instructor’s assistant approached him. she was the same age as you and with just one look, alhaitham concluded that she was interested in him. it took all of his will power to not roll his eyes when she complimented his work and not subtly ask for his number. thankfully, she was called back to the instructor’s side. he felt a shiver run down his spine when the girl looked over her shoulders and winked at him. he was most definitely not coming back here ever again.

when the class finished, alhaitham had successfully painted 3 canvases, all with your favorite colors and things that reminded him of you. a successful experiment if he does say so himself. 

meeting up with kaveh near the exit they both engaged in small chatter. the blonde architect complaining about how he’s burning through his concealer faster than he expected because of the lack of sleep. alhaitham made sure to just hum and nod here and there to not give himself away that he was the reason why kaveh’s makeup was running out. 

“i swear! this school wants its students six feet under before they graduate.”

he tunes out the complaints of his senior and mindlessly scrolls through his phone. tapping his foot impatiently when the assistant from earlier started making her way over to him. scoffing in annoyance he was about to drag kaveh out the door and wait for you outside but an arm tangled with his and started tugging him.

“good job today!” you grin at alhaitham with both your arms interlaced with the other. 

taking a peek over his shoulder, alhaitham caught sight of the assistant girl scoffing and rolling her eyes. he shifted his focus back on you, eyes meeting anyone and anything but his. an amused smirk was present on his face when he felt your hand tighten its hold around his bicep. 

“jealous?” he teases.

you roll your eyes and grip his arm tighter. “maybe.”

STEP 2.4: COMPLETE.

--

STEP 2.5: COOKING.

the constant ticking of the clock and the tic tac of keyboards was all alhaitham could hear. it was almost midnight and the two of you had decided to pull another all nighter together. at this point, the two of you had been working on his thesis for almost a month now, and alhaitham is still yet to come to a conclusion.

he definitely feels something for you. but there was an uncertain part of him that wonders if his feelings are truly genuine or if the idea of being soulmates was hindering his unbiased thinking. you look up from your laptop when you hear him stop typing and softly ask him if he’s alright. alhaitham wanted to answer no, he was not in the slightest bit alright. but he needn’t open his mouth to reply because you already stood up and invited him to the kitchen.

“let’s cook something to eat. we’ve been ordering too much takeout lately.” there was a sheepish grin on your lips as you opened his fridge and took out some ingredients. “what do you say?”

alhaitham didn’t really have a choice when you’re already started preparing. and even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to say no. when it came to you, he always found it hard to decline your invitations and advances. so now here he was, helping you cook buttered noodles at 11:57 p.m. with your playlist softly playing in the background.

he’s read a study about how cooking tends to deepen relationships between people. alhaitham wonders if this will also happen with what you and him have now. he didn’t really have think too much of it because once he hears you hiss from accidentally touching the pot with boiling water, he’s already by your side. a gentle hand guiding yours under the faucet running with cold water as he lectures you about being careful. you only laugh and say he’s worrying too much. patting him on the arm, a silent message to release your hand, alhaitham lets you continue your duty of cooking the pasta as he grates the cheese and prepares plates.

something about this fragile moment has alhaitham’s mind swimming with possibilities for the future. all he could think about is how nice it would to come home to you after a long day of work (he already does this, he just won’t admit it). crashing into your arms without care as he prattles about his day, his head on your chest while your hand gently strokes over his hair. listening intently to whatever he had to say because you loved listening to his voice.

“haitham can you help me drain the water?” before you could even turn around to face him, he's already behind you. his larger hands held your smaller ones and helped you guide the pot to the sink. alhaitham doesn’t miss the burning of your ears and he’s overcome with the urge to tease.

“why so quiet?” he asks with a playful lilt to his voice. “are you that tired?”

he hears you scoff and grumble. that fuzzy feeling swimming inside his chest again as you duck under his arms and sit yourself on his dining table. he raises a brow at you but you only raise the hand that touched the boiling pot. 

“my hand is hurting again?”

“are you serious?”

“deadly serious.”

alhaitham knew you were horsing around but he only chuckled with a shake of his head. in the end, by the time it reached 12:12, the two of you were eating happily. no small talk or conversation was present but neither of you minded. all you cared about was being in his presence and alhaitham would give it to you even if you hadn’t asked for it. he looks up from his plate when he hears you chuckle and sees you tiredly swirling the food on your fork. 

“we’re not getting any sleep tonight aren’t we?” there was something dreamy about the way you looked right now. evidently tired, hair a mess and flying in any and every direction, and your eyes were droopy. you looked so at home -at peace- and alhaitham wonders if it’s because you two were spending time together.

“you ask that as if it’s the first time we’ve done this.” you laugh at his reply and look at him. a certain emotion in them that he can only recognize as fondness.

alhaitham concludes from this unscripted experiment that he wouldn’t mind cooking with you every night.

STEP 2.5: COMPLETED.

--

STEP 2.6: VULNERABILITY AND TRUST.

today marked the last week and final experiment of alhaitham’s thesis. the both of you decided to leave the “scariest” experiment for last so you wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable. after all, being blindfolded and led to some unknown place wasn’t something normal couples would do on a daily basis. yet here you were, trusting him completely with your safety as he holds your hand leading you somewhere.

“you doing okay there, haitham?”

this was dangerous. alhaitham shouldn’t be walking backwards. but he couldn’t snuff out his desire of seeing you under the setting sun. he could bump into something and fall, compromising this experiment, but just this once, alhaitham let himself cheat. disobey his own rules. he’s already broken multiple ones so what’s one more?

“i should be asking you that,” he pauses when he hears you chuckle. “i’m not the one blindfolded here.”

“aww don’t worry haitham. i trust you won’t kill me.”

“you don’t know that.”

“do you even know how to hide a body?” alhaitham was about to reply when you cut him off. “nevermind you probably do.”

alhaitham didn’t bother to stifle a laugh at your sudden confession. and you laugh with him. when his back bumps into a metal pole, he takes it as a sign to finally turn around and walk the correct way. it hasn’t been a minute yet he’s already missing the sight of your smiling face.

“tell me a secret, haitham.”

“why?”

“this is a vulnerability and trust experiment. tell me something you haven’t told anyone.”

he takes a minute to reply. after much contemplation, alhaitham thinks it’s time to tell you.

“i’m scared of my soulmate.”

“why are you scared?” your voice turned quiet. it sounded more like an inaudible murmur.

“you already know i’m not one for relationships,” he hears you hum. “but recently their name appeared on my forearm. it was unexpected, in fact, i didn’t even think it was possible.”

“why would you think that?” you sound almost hurt. alhaitham didn’t like it.

“soulmates are too unreliable. you’ve certainly seen the multiple studies on them right? most soulmates don’t even get the chance to meet their other half.”

“and yet here we are,” he chuckled and intertwined your fingers. “doing a study on soulmates and testing the potential emotional synergy they might have.”

“i have a strict framework for my life. i built it with facts and logic. soulmates simply don’t fit into that framework. the idea of someone having such a profound impact on my life, someone i didn’t choose– it feels like i’m losing a battle against fate.”

“you can’t fight fate, haitham.”

“and who said i was fighting it?”

alhaitham sighs, running a hand through his hair. “i’m scared that they’ll grow tired of this logical thinking of mine. what if they no longer want to understand me? what if we mix like oil and water?”

“you’ll never know unless you try,” you squeeze his hand in reassurance. “sometimes, you need a little unpredictability in your life. so what if they don’t understand you immediately, most soulmates don’t even get together when they first meet. relationships take time and effort.”

alhaitham turns to look at you again, studying your expression. there’s softness in his eyes, he can just tell. “what about you? what are you afraid of?”

you stop walking entirely but not once did your hand slip away from his. “i’ve been afraid of soulmates too. what if my soulmate isn’t a good person? what would happen to my dreams of getting married and that happily ever after?”

alhaitham feels his heart beating inside his ears when you tug off the blindfold. when you meet his eyes with such a lovesick expression, he feels weak in the knees and throat drying up faster than the sands in the desert.

“but what if your soulmate is better than you imagined?” there was a smirk on his lips when he takes a step forward. “what if he’s standing right in front of you as we speak, telling you that he’s willing to give the happily ever after you’ve always wanted? all you needed to do was wait a bit longer.”

you let out a laugh and tug him closer. chest to chest, hand still holding each other. “do you think so?”

“i know so.”

“will he finally tell me what he’s planning with these experiments?” you lean forward and alhaitham feels his heart lurch forward. 

he presses your foreheads together. closing his eyes to stop himself from laughing at the sight of you on your toes to reach him. “i can’t say. it’s hard to put into words.”

you pout and hit him on the chest. “and why not?”

“i’ve never felt such deep affection for someone until you.”

STEP 2.6: COMPLETED.

--

STEP 3: WRITING.

it took a shit ton of self control to stay away from you after his confession. he locked himself in his apartment, leaving you and kaveh to sleepover at tighnari’s since he wouldn’t the door for anyone (this is a lie, he always opens the door for you when you bring him food).

now he’s around 75% done with his paper, and it’s taking longer than expected. his idea of locking his phone in the closet on do not disturb was going well. 

the days continued to drag on and alhaitham scowled at himself for feeling so much yearning for a person he’s going to see tonight or in the following week. he missed the sound of your laughter and comforting presence as you both chased deadlines. but he was determined to finish this thesis tonight or tomorrow afternoon if he accidentally fell asleep. 

as he expected, there was a knock on his front door. he frowned at how quickly he stood up. with a sigh, he went to the door and leaned on one of the walls with both his hands crossed over his chest. 

“haitham, i know you’re in there!” you shout, voice muffled by the door. “you can’t keep hiding there forever! that’s kaveh’s job.”

alhaitham let out a snort as his hand hovered over the doorknob. “i’m working.”

“then work with me. i bought us takeout,” you said, tone teasing. “and i’m not leaving until you open the door.”

with a sigh he relented. knowing deep down that you were deadly serious and he didn’t want to be the cause for a potential cold. when he unlocked the door there you were, your tote bag hanging on your shoulder while your arms held plastic bags of food. the mere sight of you has his mood brightening but he tried his best to keep it neutral.

“it’s late.” he said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when you wrap a single arm on his waist.

“and yet here i am,” you didn’t even wait for him to tell you to come in. you’re already dropping your things on his couch and sitting down on the floor. “you’re place is a mess.”

he rolls his eyes and sat next to you. “thank you, i’m trying to copy kaveh’s workspace.”

a laugh rippled through the space as you handed him his portion. “don’t be mean to him! he’s trying his best.”

you let alhaitham take a few bites before you leaned your head on his shoulder. eyes soft when you smile at him. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too,” he admits, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. “but i need to finish the paper.”

“oh fuck you!”

you scowl at him and let out an annoyed huff as you take a bite of your own food. you don’t get to savor it when a firm hand takes hold of your chin and pulls your face to alhaitham’s. your lips meet briefly before he’s nestling back on his seat. a cheeky grin on his face when you feel your cheeks burning.

“forgive me?”

STEP 3: (KINDA) COMPLETED.

--

STEP 4: CONCLUSION.

alhaitham let out a sigh of relief as he left the presentation room, loosening his too-tight tie. the sun was high, indicating that it was around afternoon now. the defense took longer than expected due to the panelists’ questions, and the knowing looks of headmaster nahida and rukkhadevata. he shivered when he recalled how he barely escaped miss nahida’s clutches.

he speedwalked down the corridors of the akademiya, keeping a firm grip of the extra copy of his thesis. those countless hours spent trying to perfect it was finally over and it proved to be worth all the effort. he had no doubts in his mind that he got a good mark. but now, he had one final thing he needed to do.

a warm breeze greeted him when he stepped outside. he closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warm afternoon sun ease his nerves already knowing where to go next. he needed to find you.

and find you he did. the moment he opened lambad’s cafe doors, his eyes by habit, searched for you in your usual seat by the window. half of your face hidden by your laptop screen and a coffee cup in your hand. the sight brought a smile to his lips, and for a moment, he didn’t move and let the scene in front of him be printed into his mind.

taking a deep breath, he walked over to you. “mind if i join you?”

you looked up, not surprised but still happy to see him. “how did it go?”

“well,” he said, sitting down across from you. “a lot more intense than i thought, but i did alright.”

“alright seems like an understatement,” you say in amusement, closing your laptop as your eyes flicked over to the papers he held.

alhaitham was struck with the feeling of deja vu. this scene in front of him mirrored the time where he first proposed the idea of partnering up for his thesis. now, here you both were, sitting across from each other with his finished thesis.

you raised a knowing brow at him. “what’s this?”

“the final version of my thesis,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “i wanted you to have look.”

“i’m honored.” you say with a big smile.

he nodded and took a deep breath. “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you.”

you hum to signal him to continue as you flip through the papers and skim over his hard work.

“during my presentation, i talked a lot about the impact of relationships. how it affects someone’s behavior, both consciously and subconsciously. i talked about you.”

you suddenly look up, eyes wide. “what did you say?”

“that emotional synergy doesn’t only apply to soulmates. it’s for everyone. even before your name appeared on my forearm, you and i already shared a connection that felt deeper than most soulmates had. from pretend to the profound truth; you’re my soulmate.”

you blinked at him, trying to process everything he’s said. “you really talked me?”

alhaitham nods, a small smile on his lips when he leans over and flips you to where his experiments come into play. “i did. i talked about our relationship, even when it started as pretend and for convenience, had impacted my life significantly. how i always seem more relaxed and focused when you’re by my side. i couldn’t imagine my life without having you in it the more time we spent together.”

he paused, taking another deep breath. “when i first saw your name on my forearm, i couldn’t believe it. it complicated things severely. but the truth is, you’ve always been my soulmate, even before the mark appeared.”

you take his hand in your and intertwine your fingers. and alhaitham couldn’t help but feel his heart quicken when he sees his name written on your wrist. “you scared me for a while, you know?”

he leaned forward, cupping your face in his free hand. “you don’t have to feel scared anymore. it’s real, even without the marks, it’s always been real. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

you let out a shaky breath and smile. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” he murmured, thumbs brushing against your tears to wipe away the stray tears that fell. “more than words can express. i have never known anything else but loving you.”

STEP 4: COMPLETED.

--

BONUS:

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (9)

ー☆ Chapter 9: You (Show Me Where My Days Went)

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 9.8k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hi, lovelies!! LMLAR is BACK!! I am sooo happy I could finally update and just write, y'all have no idea! I am so sorry for making you wait so long for this update, but finishing my thesis was super important! I still have to study and such this month, but I promise next update won't take as long as this one did! (I'm writing other stories too while writing this one, so that kinda backfires sometimes lol) I am forever grateful that you are patient and stick around for the new chapters, this story is so dear to me you wouldn't even believe it. I am also super grateful and happy whenever you leave feedback, so please, keep on doing just that!<3 This chapter only exists because I was randomly inspired, and I'd like to apologize if it's a little rusty, I always have to get in "character" when I write this story lol. I am soo excited for next chapter, I think it's going to surprise you hehe. PLS PLS imagine that airport look from Mingi when reading this chapter, the pics from the moodboard, you'll see during which part! I also have a very small surprise at the end of this chapter hehe. I hope the time jumps aren't too confusing:(( Please, listen to the song called You before or while reading! Enough yapping, I hope you enjoy and leave feedback! (Taglist is always open for those interested! ^^)

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Later that day

I hate him: hey…just checking in that I got home safely what are u up to?

I blinked, fingers tightening around my phone before I locked it, leaving the message on unread. My mother’s shuffling outside my door caught my attention, bringing a smile onto my lips as I watched her struggle while bringing all the dirty laundry to the bathroom. Then, I got off my bed to go help her.

Friday (11:30 am)

I hate him: i see u still haven’t checked my message… nothing too worrisome u certainly know how to make a man yearn for you lol that was a joke…dont freak out on me pls (lowkey true tho)

Friday (12:50 pm)

I hate him: lol, wooyoung has been bitching about seulgi’s professor for half an hour now mr. kwon u know him? i mean…i suppose he also teaches u i should take a sneaky video for u…wooyoung looks like a clown hanging upside down my bed and pouting like a damn child too (dont say im also one, thanks)

Friday (15:26 pm)

I hate him: well…ik my messages are going through so uh… why tf are u ignoring me???! *cries and dies in loneliness* entertain me dollll!!! im so bored pls oh…u said u had an important assignment…i bet u’re busy with that sorry for spamming u (text back tho when u’re done, im dying here…wooyoung is with seulgi and so is seonghwa with hongjoong…the single life sucks, bestie…lets be single and depressed together<3)

My jaw clenched as I heaved a long sigh, falling back on my bed as the sun shone brightly through my open window, the light breeze making me shiver as I only wore a t-shirt and sweats. Autumn was slowly turning into winter; the weather wasn’t so warm anymore. I threw another look at my phone, unlocked it, and stared at the received messages from Mingi for a second before finally deciding to delete them from my notification center, rolling over in bed to muffle a frustrated scream into my soft, and purple, pillow.

            Saturday (9:09 am)

I hate him: i had the weirdest dream and im not even sure i want to tell u about it LOL but uh…a grisly was chasing me??? and then u appeared on a fucking white horse like a prince LOL and threatened to like…slay it if it didnt leave me alone??? honestly…what a slay, bestie good morning, btw, doll hope u had a better night’s sleep than me (and dreamed of me ehehehe)

            Saturday (17:40 pm)

I hate him: i cant believe i allowed myself to be fooled like this back in highschool yuyu and i used to play baseball for shits and giggles and hongjoong (that rich prick) rented a whole ass baseball field for us for the afternoon and let us play with some of his (rich af) friends and uh… i think i wont be able to walk straight for another week with how much running i did… hongjoong kept scoring homeruns…i wish yuyu was here to kick his loser ass (dont tell hwa or hong i said that PLS) yo doll…everything’s alright with u? uh u…really havent answered me since… yk…i stayed over and waited for the rain to stop… have i done something wrong?

I sighed and put my phone on ‘do not disturb’, suddenly having lost all of my appetite as I forced the rest of the lettuce down my throat. My mother was sipping her kiwi and apple smoothie, eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself while trying to memorize the recipe of a dessert for later. Desserts were never her forte, unfortunately.

“Is it Seulgi?” She asked absentmindedly as I took a large gulp of my own smoothie, staring down at my salad, steak pushed to the side in my plate.

“Huh?” I asked distracted, eyes still glued to the dark screen of my phone.

“Texting you, your phone keeps buzzing, my starlight.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but didn’t bother to comment on it. I took a peek at my mother and her eyes were narrowed at me already, video on YouTube paused. Fuck, I had to answer her now or else she’d pester me all day long. And that would be a nightmare.

“Yeah, it’s Seulgi.” I lied, trying to make my voice sound convincing.

“Well, answer her then, don’t be rude.” My mother chastised me, pressing play on her video again, pursing her lips as she shook her head at whatever the man baking was saying.

“Later.” I whispered, biting my lower lip as my eyes remained glued to my phone, stomach clenching and heart dropping.

But I couldn’t.

            Sunday (1:01 am)

I hate him: …you’re ignoring me, arent u? im sorry, y/n, i dont know what i did wrong, but we can talk about it we’re friends, after all…right?

『When you came along, I knew what was wrong

If you want to know exactly what I've missed』

            Monday (present time)

            It truly would have been a missed opportunity if Seulgi and I wouldn’t have grabbed coffee and went to sit in our usual spot in the back garden. The campus of our University was huge and that was perfect, because it meant people migrated and didn’t stay in one spot for long—at least long enough to irritate me to no end. Last week deemed to be rather rough, and I still didn’t feel like completely myself. To be honest, I thought about staying home today—and for the rest of the week—but I couldn’t afford missing any of my classes as exam period was slowly nearing, and so, I had to force my ass out of the house this morning before my mother could come and nag me about my weirdly unusual broody mood that has been going on for the past few days.

I hummed as I took a sip of my sweet coffee, enjoying the taste of warm caramel as Seulgi sighed loudly next to me, both hands cupped around her own coffee cup. The scent of cinnamon wafted from her cup and I scrunched up my nose, not too fond of the ingredient’s smell. Our classes started early in the morning today and we’d be here for at least four more hours, caffeine seemed like our only hope to stay awake and aware at this point. Given the fact that my baffling thoughts kept me up all night yesterday, I felt grateful that I was still on my feet at two o’clock at noon. As Seulgi fidgeted again, I chuckled and finally turned my head to look at her. She had a sheepish look on her face, and I tried not to laugh as I knew she was bursting to tell me all about her date with Wooyoung on Saturday.

“Well,” I started as I took a sip of my coffee, prolonging the suspense for her, “how did your date go?”

“It was amazing!” I had barely finished asking as Seulgi exclaimed, her cheeks turning rosy—and it wasn’t due to the cold air, “Wooyoung is—everything I thought he would be. He’s sweet and up for anything, he makes me laugh until I feel like passing out, and there’s just never a dull moment with him, you know?”

“One would expect that from him.” I muttered against my cup, laughing as Seulgi nudged my side, not looking too happy with my comment, “Oh, come on, it would be hard for Wooyoung to be different than the way he mostly presents himself; don’t you think?”

Seulgi grumbled something against her cup as she lightly bit into the carton, shooting me a pointed stare, “Well, yes, but…he makes me happy. Treats me well and all that, you know, he’s the perfect embodiment of what a boyfriend should be like.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” I teased with a smirk, wriggling my eyebrows at my best friend as her cheeks flushed an even darker color as she bit her lower lip, trying to mask the huge grin expanding on her lips. But as soon as I started giggling, Seulgi also broke out in a fit of giggles, hiding herself behind her wavy hair, pressing her cup of coffee against her face.

“God, I’m so down bad for him, Y/N, I don’t think you’d understand.” She mused, voice airy as she threw her head back, leaning back against the back of the bench. I chuckled and took another sip of my drink.

“Maybe I’d do.” I muttered, memories of my relationship with Yunho resurfacing. Thankfully, however, I managed to repress them as quickly as they came. They didn’t feel so gut-wrenching anymore, and to my surprise, didn’t leave a bitter taste in its wake either. What has changed? Certainly—certainly getting closer to his best friend didn’t influence the way I feel about Yunho, right? Right.

“So,” I glanced at Seulgi from the corner of my eyes as she swung her legs, looking down at her feet in the process, “how are you?”

“Fine, why?” I asked confused, angling my body to face Seulgi better.

“You’ve been…distant the whole weekend. I could barely reach you.” Seulgi’s voice sounded small and I gulped, feeling bad for making her worry about me, “You know…the last time you pulled away and disappeared, it was bad.”

“I promise you I am doing completely fine, Seulgi, you’d be the first person to know if I was in a bad headspace again, alright?” I reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Seulgi sighed and then raised her head to look at me, lips pulled into a thin line.

“Promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” I smiled at her warmly and she hummed in contentment, squeezing my hand back as she took a sip of her coffee. I followed suit before removing my hand from hers to fiddle with my half empty cup, “I’m just dealing with some things right now. I think I’m confused.”

“About what?” Seulgi asked curiously, leaning closer as I continued to avoid eye contact with her.

“I’ll tell you once I have my thoughts sorted about it.” I chuckled, making Seulgi roll her eyes in displeasure.

“You know, I tell you absolutely everything about myself and how I fell, and you always shut me out and tell me how you felt about a situation when it’s been over for years.” Seulgi pouted, narrowing her eyes at me, “How’s that fair, Y/N?”

“Hey, we work differently, don’t try to guilt trip me now.” I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “Anyways, what did you do on your date with Wooyoung?”

“We went to the cinema,” Seulgi’s face lit up once again, grinning from ear to ear, “He bought me roses, a big bouquet. And after the movie we went for a walk and ended up stargazing in his cabriolet. It was really romantic.”

I smiled, feeling happy for my friend, she deserved someone like Wooyoung, “That actually sounds really amazing…and romantic.”

“Oh, my God, are you really Y/N? Where is my friend that hates anything that has to do with romance, cute stuff, and love?!” Seulgi’s shocked face was mocking and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned back against the back of the bench.

“I don’t hate it, I’m just not a huge fan of all of those things, okay?!” I shrugged, letting my arms fall from my chest as I pushed them inside my coat’s pockets.

“Who’s the culprit?” When I raised my eyebrows at Seulgi, a sign that I didn’t understand her question, she chuckled and leaned closer, “Who’s the man that’s changing your views on life, huh?”

“Man?” I asked with a scoff, giving Seulgi a deadpanned expression, “Does it always have to be about a man? Can’t it be just the fact that I had a change of mind?”

“Sure, because of someone.” Seulgi had a smug look on her face, acting as if she won the argument. But there was no argument here and she had no idea what she was talking about.

“Whatever—” But I got cut off as her phone dinged loudly. Seulgi, very comically, scrambled to reach for her phone and as she opened it up, a wide grin stretched onto her lips. It didn’t take two braincells to realize who had texted her, and thus, I chuckled and turned my head. I sipped my coffee, taking in my environment while Seulgi answered her boyfriend, giggling quietly every now and then.

The campus was finally silent and not as busy as it usually was in the early morning hours. The cold weather also helped in keeping the garden a little quieter as most people preferred to stay inside the warm corridors and classrooms. But the chilly air was good, it soothed my nerves and erased thoughts that weren’t productive. Similar to that, were the emotions that I didn’t want to deal with again, like the guilt that’s never left me ever since Mingi walked out of my house wearing Yunho’s old clothes. It felt wrong letting him take them without knowing the truth about them, but I didn’t feel ready to tell him yet about the truth. I was scared, surprisingly, of what he’d think of me once he found out about Yunho and I. I was scared that—he’d walk away, like Yunho had once done. And that was a very frightening thought. But when had I become so attached to Mingi? When has Mingi managed to infiltrate himself so thoroughly in my life, that the thought of completely losing him became scary? And why was I taking the past few days so badly? It’s not like we were as close as Seulgi and I, or him and Seonghwa and Wooyoung, yet, ignoring him felt like the wrong move to do. However, the reasoning I always circled back to was the fact that I needed space. I had to clear my mind, to find the purpose of this whole friendship that’s been blooming between us, and to make sense of everything. I had to figure out first why Yunho barely scraped my thoughts now, and why was it was Mingi who I found myself thinking of so often. In case you were wondering, no, I still haven’t found the reason, and it was becoming frustrating quite quickly. That near kiss was a—mistake. Yet, it could have been so much worse—it could have been a real kiss. And a real kiss would have ruined everything. I didn’t want to open up to anyone just yet, not when the memories of Yunho still haunted me in my dreams and drawings. Drawings that now more often than not consisted of Song Mingi.

And to my horror, the flipping of paper sheets is what alerted me back to my surroundings as I had been lost in my thoughts, oblivious to Seulgi putting her phone down and grabbing my sketchbook that lay between the two of us on the bench. As I turned my head, my eyes widened as Seulgi’s expression held surprise but amusement as well. She chuckled as she looked up, making eye contact with me. I lunged forward in an instant, trying to take my sketchbook out of her hands, but she leaned back and away, putting it behind herself.

“Bitch, I’m not the only one who’s down bad for a man.” She said with a laugh, making me groan as I gave up trying to snatch my sketchbook back from her.

“I’m not down bad for a man, Seulgi, stop this non-sense.” I hissed, cheeks burning in embarrassment as she kept flipping through my drawings.

“Please,” She scoffed, turning my sketchbook around and making me grimace as I came face to face with an exact replica of Mingi, sitting in his chair, at his studio that one time he invited me inside, “Who the fuck draws so many drawings of one single person if they aren’t in love with them—”

“I’m not in love with Mingi, stop it!” I exclaimed, heart beating fast as Seulgi raised her eyebrows at me, looking unimpressed, “Don’t ever again say that, Seulgi.”

“Okay, calm down, whatever. You’re not in love with Mingi.” She chuckled, closing my sketchbook but she didn’t hand it back yet, “But let’s face it, Y/N, you have a thing for Mingi. It’s super freaking obvious even without the drawings.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I hissed and finally snatched the sketchbook out of her hands, clutching it to my chest. I knew bringing this along today would turn out to be a mistake, and here I was, facing the repercussions of my actions.

“There’s this glint in your eyes whenever you look at him—”

“Yeah, it’s called dislike.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“And I see how you struggle to refrain yourself from smiling when you’re around him—”

“Bitch, be for real, Mingi and I aren’t even often together around you for you to notice that.” I scoffed, completely appealed by whatever absurd claims my best friend was making.

“So you’re not denying it—would it really be so bad if you liked Mingi?” But Seulgi ignored all my interruption as she raised her eyebrows at me, smiling softly, “He’s a nice guy. Very well-mannered and with a big, and good heart. Wooyoung loves him a lot and is always worrying about him. He says Mingi hasn’t been the same ever since his best friend moved away for college—”

“Mingi is Yunho’s best friend!” I blurted out before I could stop myself, finally feeling like a stone was taken off my chest as I bit my lower lip, averting my eyes from Seulgi’s shocked expression, “Mingi is the best friend Yunho had always talked so much about while we were together. I—do you understand why it would be so bad if I ended up liking Mingi?”

“Y/N,” Seulgi whispered, eyebrows furrowed, “for how long have you know?”

“Long enough.” I muttered before clearing my throat, “So please understand that I’m not ready for whatever the hell me drawing all those sketches of Mingi could mean. A month ago I was close to bursting out crying even at the thought of Yunho, and now I fail to remember his existence on my best days.”

When I dared take a peek at Seulgi, she was smiling softly, almost proudly, “Fine, I’ll pester you about this later on, when you’ve figured things out, but until then—you can’t deny Mingi isn’t hot—”

“Can we stop talking about Min—”

“Hi, girls!” I jumped in fright at the overly excited and shrill greeting as both Seulgi and I turned our heads to be met with…Wooyoung and Mingi. Speak of the devil. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat, and my heart started beating just a little bit faster as my eyes fell on Mingi’s tall form. It didn’t help that underneath his coat he was wearing Yunho’s sweater—the one I had given him.

“Hi.” Seulgi giggled as Wooyoung leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek, the two looking sickly in love. It was actually endearing, but I’d never admit it out loud for my own sake as I knew I’d get teased about it by Seulgi. I averted my eyes from Wooyoung and Seulgi as they were muttering things to each other, and so, had no choice but to look up at Mingi, who looked—expressionless. Something in my stomach dropped at his cold demeanor, and it was worse that I wanted to assume it was my fault that he looked like that. But just as I was about to look away, he cracked the tiniest smile ever, and I exhaled, licking my lips.

“Hi.” My voice was small as I gulped, eyes trans-fixated on the tall man as his smile became just a little wider. I don’t think I had the power to ignore him anymore, not when he was standing right in front of me, looking like he wished to be anywhere but here.

“Hi, Y/N.” Having not heard his voice in days, it sounded even deeper and raspier than usually, making butterflies erupt in my stomach as my grip tightened around my sketchbook. I felt a little awkward, perhaps even tense, as Mingi didn’t say anything else, just continued gazing down at me with his sharp dark brown eyes boring into my own. I had so many things that I could’ve said to him, but I felt tongue tied. I didn’t know what would be the right way to approach him after I ignored him for so many days. Would he understand? Is he mad at me now? Does he hate me now? Will he forgive me—

“Okay,” Wooyoung chuckled, syllable drawn out and sounding amused, “I feel like I’m interrupting something here, yet they are basically just staring at each other.”

“You’re right.” Seulgi giggled, and I finally looked away from Mingi, throwing a glare at my best friend as she had leaned into Wooyoung’s side, who stood next to the bench and her.

“Shush, you two.” Mingi beat me to telling the two love-birds off, and I couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong to.”

“Look who’s lecturing me about poking my nose where it doesn’t belong to—”

“Wooyoung.” Mingi’s tone held a warning, and it made Wooyoung giggle as he leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against Seulgi’s cheek—again—making her push him away playfully.

“We’re headed to class, are you coming over later?” Wooyoung smiled down at his girlfriend, playing with a strand of her hair.

“Maybe, if I get to finish my project.” Seulgi said with a pout and Wooyoung hummed, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips this time around. I averted my eyes, not a fan of seeing couples kiss, only to catch Mingi already looking at me. He was expressionless once again, but he was fidgeting with his fingers, looking almost nervous. And as Wooyoung stood up straight and ruffled Seulgi’s hair affectionately, Mingi took a deep breath.

“Will you come to Outlaw this Friday?” He asked in a rush, sounding almost reluctant as his eyebrows furrowed slightly and he chewed on his lower lip. To my horror, I found my eyes fixated on his plush mouth and I gulped before I quickly averted my eyes, praying that nobody caught it.

“Yes.” I answered before Seulgi could, and nodded, smiling a little bit, “I won’t miss it.”

A beautiful smile spread on Mingi’s lips and he nodded once, looking too happy for something so little. I don’t think I’ll understand anytime soon why he gets so excited and happy when I listen to his songs or watch him perform. I’m no expert when it comes to music, my feedback is merely amateur and I’m not even a fan of his band yet.

“Cool, see you then.” And Mingi didn’t wait for Wooyoung as he turned around and walked away, steps hurried. I didn’t miss the confused glance Wooyoung and Seulgi shared before Wooyoung was off, chasing after his best friend. And maybe I would be soon able to make sense of my thoughts and feelings around Mingi, figure out what they meant and why they felt so real at times.

            Monday (16:58 pm)

I hate him: hi Me: hi I hate him: would it be a lot if i asked to meet u tomorrow? Me: no, im free in the afternoon I hate him: cool, me too so uh…we can hang out in my studio? Me: or we can go to that new café with pottery I hate him: really? Me: u did say u wanted us to go… I hate him: i certainly said so i’ll pick u up around 4 Me: u don’t have to i’ll meet you there I hate him: come on, y/n…let me drive u Me: u’ve driven me around too many times by now i’ll meet u there and that’s final. I hate him: okay, boss, see ya there Me: :))

            Getting here before four o’clock and having to wait in front of the cute café had no business being this nerve-wrecking. Yeah, Mingi hasn’t shown up yet—but perhaps that’s because there were still ten minutes until it’d be four—and I knew I had no reason to think he’d bail on me, but we hadn’t spoken since yesterday, when he had asked me if we could hang out. And so, waiting for him shouldn’t have had me breaking out in a sweat despite the cold weather, making me bite my lower lip harshly as I tried to smooth down the wool, green, brown, and beige patterned coat I was wearing. First of all, why the hell would I be so nervous about meeting up with Mingi alone at this cute café? He probably wanted to talk about that near kiss, and once we had that cleared, things would go back to normal—right?!

And maybe that was the reason which made me want to vomit on the sidewalk, the thought that I knew Mingi would demand answers—answers that I wasn’t yet ready to hand out. Why did I even agree to this? Because I missed him? I should have just stayed at home and done the project I’ve been procrastinating on—again. But when I heard the rumble of Mingi’s old Honda’s engine, I knew there was no turning back, catching the bus and running home to hide underneath my blanket.

As Mingi took his time to parallel park, I took a deep breath and gripped onto the strap of my tote bag harder, looking down at myself. My apricot orange sneakers matched the color of my blouse, the top two buttons out of five undone, but not showing too much skin. My blouse was tucked inside my washed out high waisted mom jeans, the black belt matching the color of my tote bag—I know black isn’t a color, I’m an arts major after all. My hair was pulled in a low ponytail just to prevent the wind from blowing it in my face, and I was thankful that I chose my wool coat as it kept me warm enough. I have opted to wear quite a few rings today, and because my neck felt too exposed, I decorated it with three necklaces of different length. I gulped hard one last time as Mingi got out of his car and took a few seconds until he managed to lock it. However, those few seconds were exactly what I needed to prepare myself to not pass out at the full sight of him.

Mingi, in true fashion to him, wore all black, except for his jeans that were a very dark shade of blue, almost black too. His turtleneck was tucked inside his jeans, a black coat with a hood keeping him warm from the cold late autumn weather. It almost made me smile upon seeing his own tote bag, black, and funnily matching mine. Except that his was plain, while mine had Claude Monet’s Water-Lily Pond painting painted on it, done by none other than yours truly, me. Mingi’s eyes were concealed by black sunglasses, and I snorted as he almost splashed himself up by stepping a little too enthusiastically into a big puddle. Two necklaces hung around his neck, reaching down his chest. A very obvious and sturdy silver cross necklace, and another longer chain that had pearls scarcely strung on it.  And in true Song Mingi fashion, his rings weren’t missing, only two of his nails painted black on each hand, almost as if he didn’t have time to finish doing them. My heart racing in my chest so fast just at the mere sight of him, certainly wasn’t healthy, right?

“Hi!” I squeaked out and wished to burry myself instantly as Mingi chuckled, a very charming smile spreading onto his lips. It was a little annoying that I couldn’t see his eyes, forced to stare at his plush lips instead—let’s be real, nobody forced me, I did it because I couldn’t help myself, “The sun is quite blinding today, isn’t it?”

And of course, in good old fashion, my mouth worked before my brain would agree to saying something out loud, and my cheeks were burning as I knew Mingi saw me look at his lips. I had to divert the attention somehow, and teasing him was my best method, actually. It always worked.  

“I’m trying to make a fashion statement,” Mingi grinned as he gripped the sunglasses and took them off in a very unnaturally hot way, “but hello to you too.”

“No need for a fashion statement when it’s just the two of us,” I narrowed my eyes, finding Mingi’s hair very soft and fluffy looking, almost as if he had recently washed it, and it wasn’t completely dry, “I’m not one of your fans.”

“Pity,” Mingi hummed, stepping slightly closer to me, “I thought I might just finally wove you.”

I scoffed, and as I was about to tell him off, he grabbed my tote bag and pulled me after himself, headed for the entrance of the café, “Did you have to wait long for me? Traffic was busier today, I had to take a few detours to get here in time.”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled as he opened the door for me and let me walk inside first, “I only waited half an hour for you to arrive, runway princess.”

“Runway princess?!” Mingi’s eyes bulged for a second before he started laughing loudly, making a few customers glance our way as we made it inside the café. I elbowed him in the stomach gently, not too keen of having people glare at us as he disturbed their peace.

“Don’t like the nickname?” I asked with a raised brow as we neared the front desk. The cashier had a friendly smile on her face while she greeted us as Mingi and I looked up at the menu, trying to decide what we’d like to have.

“Never said that,” Mingi answered with a chuckle as he threw me a quick glance, “it’s just surprising coming from you.”

“Why, can’t I call you a princess?” I chuckled, turning to face the cashier as I have made up my mind about what I’d like to have.

“Up until now you seemed to prefer the term ‘bro’, but I’m fine with whatever you decide on calling me, doll.” The look the cashier gave us made my cheeks flame up and I cleared my throat loudly, shooting Mingi a look that told him to shut up.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered embarrassed, smiling at the cashier, “can I get a strawberry cheesecake?”

“Sure, right away, and you, sir?” Her attention was on Mingi now, cheeks flushing the longer she looked at him. Okay, I could totally understand why. Mingi looked quite good right now, it was hard not to ogle him.

“A mint-chocolate cheesecake and a cappuccino?” Mingi hummed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he looked down at the cashier.

“Plain cappuccino or with vanilla?” The cashier typed in our orders as she asked Mingi, averting her eyes shyly once he looked at her, pursing his lips.

“Plain,” He decided at last, turning to look at me, “are you not getting anything to drink?”

“An orange fresh will be alright.” I said as I reached inside my bag to fish around for my wallet.

“And would you also like to paint some pottery?” The cashier asked, pointing behind herself at all the displayed options. Mingi and I shared a look and I smiled as I nodded at him, making him grin from ear to ear.

“Yeah, we’ll paint some pottery too. Can I have a cup?” He asked, pointing at one on the higher shelf. It was a smaller cup, specifically made for drinking coffee. The cashier nodded and then looked at me expectantly.

“Uh, a mug will do for me.” I said and thanked her once she handed us the pottery and the paint that was used for painting these. Then, she tapped a few more on her tablet and told us the total. I opened my wallet to pay for my purchase, but Mingi had a card in his hands, the cashier already typing in the total sum for him to pay.

“Mingi,” I hissed quietly, looking at him with a frown, “what are you doing?”

“It was my idea to come here—”

“No, it wasn’t.” I cut him off, fingers curling into the scratchy fabric of his coat as I reached out to hold it, “I suggested we come here instead of going to your studio.”

Mingi sighed and pocketed his card, already having paid, then turned his body to face mine. I didn’t let go of his coat just yet, “Yeah, but when I drove you home during that downpour I asked you if you’d come here with me. So technically, it was my idea. Initially, anyways, it really was.”

“Mingi—” I started, but soon swallowed my words as he stepped closer, invading my personal space. My fingers tightened more into his coat and I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous due to our proximity. He faintly smelled of vanilla, it was a fragrance I didn’t except to smell on him.

“Can you not fight me on this one, please?” Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes softened up and I—struggled to breathe for a second as I stared up in his pleading eyes, mouth going dry. He looked—adorable like this, and I did not like the way I felt myself getting lost in his soft gaze.

“Let’s find a table.” I muttered, forcing myself out of the trance he placed on me, and grabbed my mug and the painting supplies. Mingi followed suit as he took his own cup and followed after me closely. We walked further inside the café and found a smaller table in the next room, closer towards the window. The walls were painted a faint orange and were decorated by white stripes that created abstract shapes. The chandeliers were white and hung low, the place well-lit for those who wished to paint pottery.

I placed the things in my hands on the table carefully, and then discarded my coat on the back of my chair and my tote bag by the leg of the table, pulling my chair out for myself. Mingi followed suit, however, he managed to almost send his cup tumbling to the floor when he took his seat. His eyes were wide as he just barely caught the cup, and I giggled as I watched him while opening the box that held all the paint. Thankfully, the table was spacious enough to harbor both our pottery and paints as the cashier brought out our delicacies. She threw Mingi a lasting look before she hurried back to the front desk, glancing our way at times.

“This is going to be a tough one.” Mingi said before scooping up a bit of his cheesecake with his little spoon.

“Why?” I asked with a chuckle, choosing a thin brush to start painting some flowers on my mug. My cheesecake could wait.

“Because I’m literally sat at a table with an arts major, having to decorate some cup by painting.” Mingi sounded stressed and I chuckled as I looked up at him, amused by his expression. His hair fell in his eyes a bit, and I found myself absentmindedly reaching over the table to brush it to the side. Almost as if realizing at the same time what I had done, we both froze. It felt like time stilled around us as I watched Mingi with a gaping mouth, slowly but surely, my cheeks becoming the color of a fire hydrant. But Mingi wasn’t better off as he bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes shyly as his cheeks turned the faint color of pink. Clearing my throat and accidentally choking as I hastily pulled my hand back, I averted my eyes and fought for my life to not choke. Thank God the orange juice was right there, I quickly took three large gulps.

“Th—thanks.” Mingi stuttered, staring at the table as he licked his lips, “Uh, it’s gotten long, my hair, I mean, I have to cut it when I get the time.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, grabbing my mug and chewing on my bottom lip in embarrassment—God, could the Earth swallow me up right now? Why the hell did I do that?! “Yeah.”

“Do you think I should change it up a little?” I paused as I had dipped my brush in red paint, and slowly looked up at Mingi, “Do something fun with it—like going blonde?”

“I hate blonde hair.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Nice one, idiot. Yunho was blonde while we were together, and thus, yeah, I’ve hated blondes ever since. And to be fair—and this is not me shitting on my ex—but that hair color did not suit Yunho at all.

“Oh, noted.” Mingi whispered, pouting a little. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hating myself for the weird atmosphere I have created.

“Mingi, you can do whatever you want with your hair.” I spoke up, leaning down to try and look him in the eyes as he was busy staring at the table, “My opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your hair. Go crazy with it, have fun, try out something new. Really.”

“But do you think it would suit me?” Mingi was still pouting as he finally looked up at me, looking quite crestfallen. My eyebrows furrowed and I tried to imagine him with blonde hair. He was quite blessed with his skin complex as most colors looked good on him, but perhaps I preferred Mingi with dark hair—black hair, more specifically. Like he had it right now. He looked—good. Handsome, even. Completely gorgeous. Fuck.

“I think it would suit you.” I settled on saying that. He didn’t have to know my train of thought, like at all. Mingi hummed in appreciation, and I watched as he reached inside his tote bag, pulling out a case that held his glasses. He took it out of the case and put it on, pushing it up on the bridge of his nose. He grinned when he looked at me and I chuckled, shaking my head as I looked down at my mug, finally starting to decorate it.

“There goes the cool, mysterious, hot celebrity act.” I teased under my breath, not expecting Mingi to hear me. But he did, and he started laughing, giving me a cheeky grin.

“Not quite a celebrity yet, but at least you admit I am hot.” Of course he was smirking as I gave him a deadpanned look, about to argue him on his statement, but he didn’t let me as he continued talking, “By the way, let’s exchange our cups when we are done. The mug will be mine and the cup will be yours.”

I tried to fight the smile off my lips, “So that you get the artwork of a talented artist for free to sell for an outrageous price later on when I’m famous?”

“I fear you have misjudged my character, doll.” Mingi’s eyes narrowed playfully, but there was truth to his words. I might just have misjudged his character.

“I still think you’re arrogant and selfish.”

“Of course you do, didn’t except anything less from you.” Mingi winked and then looked down, his cheesecake forgotten as he started decorating his cup, tongue just barely sticking out as he concentrated hard on whatever he had in mind to paint onto the cup. I chuckled and shook my head before focusing on my own mug, the silence that’s settle around us comfortable, as always.

            Mingi and I were the quietest table in the café as we worked in silence diligently in, painting our own pottery. Mingi, at times, would hum along quietly to the songs that were played on the radio. Despite his cup being smaller and easier to paint, I finished painting mine before him, and so, I took the time to savor my cheesecake even if it had gotten warm and a little too soft. Mingi was hunched over in his seat, glasses low on the bridge of his long nose, with his full lips either pursed or with the bottom one bitten as his eyebrows would furrow every time he almost made a mistake. It was a funny sight, and I grabbed my phone without thinking much, and snapped a few pictures of him, leaning lower and even closer to his face to get the funny angles, all while Mingi remained oblivious to it. I chuckled as I looked at the pictures I had taken of him, looking at him when I felt eyes on me.

“What’s so funny?” He asked curiously, eyeing my phone for a second.

“You.” I chuckled and stuck my tongue out as Mingi rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he heaved a long sigh.

“I’m finally done.” He grinned and I looked down at his cup, taking in the yellow chicks he had painted quite—clumsily. Well, not all of us had the skills of a painter—not that it was an issue or anything—it’s just that it’s been long since I had seen someone have the skills of a—kindergartner, “It’s pretty sick, huh?”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from giggling and nodded with my eyebrows furrowed, “I’d give it a seventy out of a hundred mark.”

“Hey! That’s too low!” Mingi said, looking offended. I chuckled before shrugging.

“You’ll have to work on your skills for a higher mark.”

“Fine, next time you come to the studio, I’ll make you sing.” Mingi raised his eyebrows, making me narrow my eyes at him playfully.

“Oh, I didn’t know we are in a competition.”

“We weren’t, until now.” He winked and then stood, grabbing my mug and his own cup carefully as he took it to the front desk for drying. I gathered the items we had used to paint the pottery with to place them back in the box, and couldn’t help it but sneak a glance at Mingi. He was leaned up against the front counter, grinning widely at the cashier as she spoke to him, using her hands for big gestures as she was probably explaining something. My eyes narrowed as Mingi leaned slightly closer to her, only to detach himself from the front desk and walk back towards our table. I looked away and busied myself with my glass of orange juice.

“So, we’ll get them delivered to our houses once they are dry and all.” He said with a smile, sitting down, “I hope you don’t mind I gave her your address too.”

“I don’t.” I muttered, chewing on the straw for a second, “I didn’t think you’d know my address.”

“Well,” Mingi flattened his hands on the surface of the table, “I’ve been to your house twice now. I think it’s only right I remember your address, doll.”

“Right,” I muttered, “you’ve been to my house.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and I figured he didn’t like the tone of my voice. But before I could correct myself and explain that I had nothing against that, he spoke up, “Y/N, I—I didn’t mean to scare you or—I don’t know—make you think that I want anything from you. I mean—we are friends, and I respect you as a woman and as a friend, and I know we almost—kissed. But I—I don’t want you to think that I’m playing some sort of game with you to get—to get in your pants. I’m your friend. And even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t do that to you.”

Hearing him say all that felt wrong. I didn’t deserve any explanation from him. I was the one that’s overreacted that day, and Mingi was the one that deserved an explanation and apology from me for the way I have acted. I knew I couldn’t completely open up to him right now, that some parts of the truth had to be omitted today, but he also deserved to know why I had pulled back. And I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t his fault for the way I reacted to everything.

“Mingi,” I offered him a small smile and gripped my empty glass for some support, “If you think you are the reason why I ignored you, please, stop thinking that. It’s—we both leaned in, okay? We were both about to kiss each other, it’s not like you initiated it or forced me to do something I didn’t want to. And nothing even happened, for God’s sake. I reacted that way because I—”

When I paused, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned over the table, gently poking my hand with his ring clad fore-finger, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable sharing it, Y/N.”

“But I want you to know this, Mingi.” I averted my eyes and took a deep breath, embracing myself for what I was about to tell him, “I had a boyfriend back in high-school who completely broke my heart, shattered it into pieces. And I know that happened a long time ago, and yes, I am over him, but I—I am scared people will treat me like he had treated me. I’m scared that if I let you close, you’ll just—leave. Like he did. And I know ignoring you for days was very shitty of me and I shouldn’t have done that—because quite frankly, Mingi, you deserve better—I just didn’t know what to do. I needed a few days to myself, to figure things out. It’s a bad excuse, but it’s the truth, and I think you deserve to know it. Since we are friends.”

Mingi’s face conveyed no emotion for a few seconds and I gulped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Did he figure it out now? That I was talking about Yunho? That maybe I have started feeling something for him too, for Mingi? Would he stand up and leave? But to my surprise, a wide smile stretched onto his lips and he hummed, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Thank you for trusting me, it means a lot that you told me all that.” I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the table abashedly, “And I was never mad at you for ignoring me. I completely understand you, Y/N, and for the record, I have zero intentions of leaving you. And your ex is a fucking asshole for breaking your heart like that, tell me who he is and I’ll beat him up when I cross paths with him.”

There was nothing funny about what Mingi had said, especially since he was talking about his best friend, but the comically tough look on his face made me snort loudly as I shielded my mouth with my hand, trying to stop myself from laughing too loudly. Mingi started grinning like an idiot, his giggles deep, and making something coil in my stomach. When has Song Mingi become adorable instead of annoying?

“I doubt you’d want to kick his ass once you find out who he is…” I grimaced once that was out of my mouth, regretting it instantly. What was it about today that I couldn’t keep my thoughts and mouth in check? It was turning really frustrating.

“So, you plan on telling me one day?” Mingi wriggled his eyebrows, making me snort, “Like real besties gossiping and shit.”

“You never fail to make me cringe when you call us besties, Mingi.” I shook my head, taking a glance at my wrist watch. Oh, the time had flown away, it was well past five now, and the sun was going down. I’d probably have to head home soon to have dinner with my mother. I was becoming hungry too.

“Well, that’s what we are so…” He cleared his throat before slowly standing up, making me look up at him, “Did you know today we’re celebrating the Festival of Light?”

“Nope, I had no idea.” I shook my head, standing up too as Mingi wore his coat, “I don’t follow the events our city organizes.”

“Pity, it’s really pretty.” Mingi pouted, waiting for me as I grabbed my tote bag and pocketed my phone, “Should we check it out?”

“I mean…maybe?” I shrugged and Mingi beckoned me over as he crossed his arm with mine, making me chuckle as I looked up at him. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his sneakers had a thick sole and they made him even taller, “Where is this festival held at?”

“Just down the street, at the Citadel.” Mingi smiled as he led the way out of the café, waving at the barista as she blushed again, making me chuckle as I subconsciously nuzzled up against Mingi’s side, the air chilly as the sun had set by now.

“That barista totally has a crush on you.” I found myself saying as we walked down the sidewalk, trying to avoid crashing into the people that came towards us. Yeah, there certainly was an event on-going in the city, otherwise you wouldn’t see so many people out and about around this time. Everyone preferred staying inside after the sun had set, not keen of the cold nights.

“You think so?” Mingi mused, bottom lip jutting out as he narrowly avoided a child that was running around, “I didn’t notice.”

“You must be really dense then.” I snorted, eyebrows furrowing as I looked up at him, “She was constantly blushing, and she was totally looking at you with hearts in her eyes.”

“How do you know when someone is looking at you with heart eyes?” Mingi’s question threw me off, and I detached myself from his side, clearing my throat as I looked ahead, pushing my hands in my pockets. He was warm, it made me realize as the cold bit at my skin now that I wasn’t nuzzled up by his side anymore.

“Well, they have this look in their eyes, you know? It’s warm, and soft, and it lasts.” I explained, feelings my cheeks heat up, “And their eyes always linger on you when you aren’t watching them. It’s like…puppy eyes, I suppose? I wouldn’t actually know, Mingi, nobody’s ever looked at me like that.”

When there was no response, I looked back to find Mingi looking at me intensely. My eyebrows furrowed as we have arrived to the Citadel, the gates open for the visitors of the festival. The place was packed, this wouldn’t be so fun anymore. I would’ve turned around and walked back home if I didn’t see how excited Mingi was when I agreed to come check it out.

“There’s lots of people here.” Mingi muttered, and then walked closer to me as I led the way inside, a little baffled by his reaction to my answer. I just merely gave an answer based on my beliefs. It was him that was acting weird now. But as I looked at him, I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore, that he wanted us to drop the subject. His last comment was a way to veer the conversation in a different direction. What was it about us today making everything weird? I sighed and just walked further inside, trying to avoid the big crowd which seemed almost impossible as it stretched on and on. The Citadel, however, was beautiful as it was coated in darkness, only the little paper lamps and fairy lights illuminating the place. It had a certain aura to it, almost romantic, and I soon found myself smiling as we walked down the cobblestone path, still trying to avoid people and stick close to each other’s sides. The air was chilly but the walls of the Citadel did a great job at keeping the breeze out, and the crowd certainly kept the place warmer than it was outside the stone walls.

I found myself admiring the décor in wonder, my mouth hanging open as I took in all the little lamps placed down on the ground, following the cobblestone paths, illuminating our way. It was truly beautiful, it almost felt like the scene was taken out of a fairytale. I found myself filled with excitement and happiness as I turned to grin at Mingi.

“This is so beautiful!” I giggled, absentmindedly grabbing the sleeve of his coat and dragging him away from the path and into the dying grass as there was a panel covered with paper, and people were writing on it. Mingi remained silent, but as I searched around for a pen or pencil, I felt him watching me, “What, do you not want to write something?”

“If you manage to find a marker or pen, I will, sure.” He said with a shrug, adjusting the strap of his tote bag before he pushed his hands deep in his pockets. I chuckled and looked around for a marker, but it was hard to see it in the darkness whether they were laying around in the grass or not. To my surprise, a little girl standing next to me looked up at me with a small smile on her lips, and offered me her purple-coloured marker, saying she was done with her drawing. I thanked her with a chuckle and turned to face Mingi with a grin.

“I found one!” Mingi chuckled and took the marker from my hands, being able to reach high up where the paper was still empty, due to his height. The panel was illuminated from the inside so you could actually see what was written on the paper. I watched him as he wrote on the paper, hesitating for a second, before he stepped back and handed me the marker. I raised up on my tip toes curiously, and craned my neck to see what he’s written. ‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’

I felt a smile spread onto my lips as I looked back at Mingi, who’s expression was serious and almost sad-looking as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his tall nose. I craned my neck back once more to gaze at the dark sky, at the moon, and indeed, there she was, beautiful and shining brightly. It was a new moon. Taking a swift glance at Mingi, I raised back on my tip toes and stood close to the panel, reaching up, just underneath Mingi’s writing. Thankfully, I could reach just bellow it, and I grinned as I quickly drew a new moon, adding a little shading to it and dents as well, creating the illusion of a real moon. Mingi remained silent as I took a step back, admiring our work. I handed the marker to another child as I fished my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture quickly of our artwork.

“The moon turned out beautifully.” Mingi commented once we had stepped away from the panel to let others draw too, headed back onto the cobblestone path.

“Still, it’s not as beautiful as the real one, but I tried my best.” I chuckled as I crossed my arms in front of my chest for a second, avoiding a man as he wasn’t looking in front of himself as he raced down the path. Mingi threw him a displeased look before looking down at me.

“Your drawings and paintings are always beautiful, Y/N.” Mingi said and I found myself blushing, thankful that it was so dark he wouldn’t be able to see it. I uncrossed my arms and turned my body a little to face him. There was music coming from one path, the one which led to the southern part of the Citadel.

“Are you nervous about Friday?” I found myself asking him as Mingi veered us towards where the music was coming from. He looked at me for a second, and then shook his head.

“I’m rarely nervous when we have to perform.” He said nonchalantly, the back of his hand brushing lightly against mine. My heart did a somersault against my ribcage, but I ignored it.

“Oh, you’re such a cool guy.” I teased him with narrowed eyes, making Mingi chuckle.

“I rarely get nervous, to be honest, even less when it comes to performing.” He hummed, looking up at the dark sky for a second, “I trust myself and my bandmates that everything will go well, so, there’s no actual reason to feel nervous.”

“But I’ll be there on Friday, that still doesn’t make you feel nervous?” My question was meant to be teasing, part of our playful banter, but the way Mingi gulped and quickly averted his eyes told me that perhaps I hit the nail spot-on. Well, now I have turned things awkward again. I sighed loudly, chewing on my bottom lip as Mingi remained silent, the two of us walking down the narrow path as the music became louder as we were nearing the stage. Jazz music was playing, the lady who was singing had a powerful and smooth voice that carried over the crowd neatly. There were a few people dancing in the crowd.

“Perhaps having you there will make me nervous.” Mingi’s voice was barely above a whisper and I tensed when I felt his pinkie brush against my own, making me clench my hand into a fist. But a very quiet voice inside my head demanded me to accept Mingi’s subtle request, and willing my heart to stop hammering so hard in my chest, I relaxed my hand and slowly slipped it into Mingi’s. If he stopped walking for a milli-second, I didn’t say anything about it, and he also ignored it. His grip turned firm as he intertwined our fingers together, gently pulling me closer into his side as he smiled at a mother who apologised for his son almost running into us.

I gulped and kept my eyes ahead of me, too nervous to look at Mingi. Holding his hand like this meant nothing in particular, but it was a nice feeling. It made my cheeks warms and heart race. And I didn’t have to look at Mingi to know he was smiling like crazy, his cheeks just as red as mine as we came to a stop behind the dancing people.

Have I started falling for Song Mingi?

『It's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm just saying it's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

You, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

You're what I've been chasing

Show me where my days went』

❱❱ Next chapter

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

so...the festival of light scene was totally inspired by me and my bestie attending it in our city lol; it was sooo beautiful and the pictures in the moodboard were actually taken by us; also, her and I kept laughing about the romantic vibes we were getting, all in all, we had a nice time...and OFC we make everything about Ateez so :))

I wrote that LOL I'm like Mingi, tall enough to reach the top where people haven't scribbled onto yet lol

also, this is what y/n's outfit looks like for anyone wondering, except for the colors as they are the way I have described them in the scene ^^

[rosesbxrry]

I’ve got my eyes on you

Pairing: Boyfriend! Heeseung X Fem! Reader X Roommate! Jake

Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), Heeseung and reader have a established relationship, Roommate AU!

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), Hard Dom! Heeseung, Sub! Reader, Jake is like neutral, threesome, double penetration, anal sex, voyeurism, nipple play, squirting, cum eating, clit play and slapping, dirty talking, slut shaming, degradation, blowjob, degradation, multiple orgasm, cream pie, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, Heeseung being mean. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: Jake has always loved capturing the beauty in any subject, the camera being his appendage for as long as he could remember. But pursuing what he loves in college didn’t end as well as he thought before he met the two of you, the couple who would change his black-and-white perspective for years to come.  

Main masterlist

Word count: 6,242 words

a/n: I have no words to describe how horny I was while writing this. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy reading this while I slave away to do my long awaited thesis 🥲 🥲 Also, I want to say thank you so much for 1,600+ followers 🫶🫶 🤧

Jake was always told that he had an eye for art.

Aligning the clear lens near to his right eye while the other shut closed, feeling the robust outline of the camera weighing his arms as he brings it up and the subtle tap on the flat button before—

Snap

He took a picture worth a thousand words.

From photography to filmography, Jake’s aptitude talent to be able to capture the nuances of angles and depth earned him a scholarship from a rather prestigious college to further his education.

Succumbing to the naivety of pursuing his skill in a more formal method, his passion for the art had been confined in a small defined box. The initial gratification and contentment of crafting a piece of pure refinery were moulded into the rules of academic guidelines.

He might abide by his philosophy, but he’s not stupid to flop his studies.

The semesters were filled with bleak and gruelling days— suffering through classes, assignments and professors that seemed to come and go. Nevertheless, he thought that he would spend his roaring twenties enjoying life and creating projects, with the possibility of doing a gallery show to display pieces of his creation to the world.

What seemed to be a rock bottom situation has graced him with the silver lining he needed.

Lee Heeseung was another fellow student in the school, a year older than him, who needed a new roommate in his apartment.

Coincidentally, Jake decided to move out of his parent’s house for independence, finding solace in the fact that the male was reasonably trustable and able to save money simultaneously.

It was initially awkward, mostly coming from him, who was slightly tense about living with an older person other than his family. Jake upholds respect as a constitution to his morals, but he slowly loosens up his relationship with Heeseung from a stranger to his best friend.

But it seemed Heeseung came with a combo, and that was you, his roommate’s girlfriend.

Intertwining his life with Heeseung meant that you were also in the package, often visiting the apartment to bring food or have a movie night together. As a result, Jake often feels like he is imposing on the couple because no one wants a third wheel tailing your scarce intimate time with each other.

However, it seemed like you and Heeeseung didn’t mind his company, often inviting Jake to activities like a trip to the aquarium or a study picnic on the grass field on the campus ground.

The couple knew about Jake’s talent with the camera, often asking him to take pictures of the memories for sentimental purposes.

For all his life in filming and snapping pictures, whether it be organisms to inanimate objects, the subject of his inspiration has never come close to how perfectly the two of you looked through the camera’s lens from his eyes.

At first, his impression of the couple’s relationship was admiration, understanding and respect for each other in overcoming complex obstacles, seeing one another as equal rather than subject to the emotion and stress that manifested during those squabbles.

Still, it didn’t sit right with him to call it admiration, and the turning point soon tests the hypothesis when in the dead of the night one day, he heard you and Heeseung having sex for the first time.

The walls that separate his room and Heeseung’s were arguably not that thin, but it wasn’t thick enough either to muffle the whimpers and moans coming from the room next door.

Jake felt like he had a stomach ache listening to the couple’s soft lewd sounds, not because he hated it, but quite the opposite; the noises turned him on.

It began as something that flew over his head, not dissecting the whole thing in great detail until he heard it for the second time, and then the third time, and before he knew it, he had his pyjama pants down to his knees, desperately humping his pillow to the rhythm of his friends having sex with a palm clamp over his mouth.

He fantasizes about the two bodies mingled with one another on the white sheets of Heeseung’s bed; the eloquent actions of touching, grabbing and thrusting that aggregated into white milky beautiful essence oozing out of your hole—

Jake came on the fabric of his pillowcase with the thought of capturing the cinematography of such an imaginary masterpiece deeply rooted in the reality he could never witness.

So much adrenaline was pumping through his body that he could hear his heart beating.

He woke up groggy and tired the next morning on those days, feeling like he got hit by a truck at how uneasy he felt. He dreaded coming outside, knowing he’d see you and Heeseung making breakfast together, embarrassed to even make eye contact with them.

The male felt nauseous, in fact, filthy to the core of even masturbating silently to the notion of them fucking. Realization slowly dawned on him that the search for the term to describe how he feels about the two of you has concluded in his head— infatuation.

No words could ever express the emotion better on how he felt in the enchanting relationship they shared.

The mundane life he had owned morphed into restless torture of constant tossing and turning. He felt guilt eating him up, more so because he hid such a deceitful act of touching himself while putting up a disguise behind his friend’s back.

At the culmination of the chaotic situation, Jake saw Heeseung's gallery by accident.

The younger male wanted to call his missing phone in his room, asking permission from Heeseung, who was doing the laundry at the time, if he could use the older male’s phone. However, while pressing on the phone app to search for his number, his clumsy fingers, by chance, opened up the gallery instead, causing his eyes to bulge out at what he saw.

It was a thumbnail of a recent video logged into the first file, big enough for him to decipher the image that made him almost drop the phone.  

The camera's angle was situated visibly at the side view of Heeseung in between your legs, missionary position with a blanket covering the area where your bodies meet. You were gripping his arm that was caging the sides of your head against the familiar bed, and Jake didn’t need to stare for too long to understand what was going on.

A dull sound rang in his ears, and his throat grew dry as his heart erratically beat against his ribcage. Then, with a shaking thumb hovering above the video icon, Jake’s breathing was as loud as his swallowing before pressing on it reluctantly, pupils trembling in nervousness.

The video played.

Heeseung was thrusting into you, hearing the sound of soft skin slapping mixed with whiny, muffled moans and grunts that echoed against the phone’s speaker. The upper part of their faces was cut out from the shot, but in the dimly lit room, the smirk on Heeseung’s face was evident.

“Shhh, didn’t I tell you to quiet down princess, or are you purposely doing it for Jake to hear you?” Heeseung whispered slowly against your ear, eliciting a small cry from your lips.

Eyes as wide as saucers, Jake couldn’t believe what he was witnessing, his name leaving his roommate’s mouth while fucking you.

Heeseung chuckled darkly, smacking his hips harder against yours. “Fuck, that’s it, isn’t it? You tighten up everytime I say his name. Such a dirty girl.”

Jake’s breathing shallowed beyond disbelief at what he was hearing.

Heeseung fastens his pace, causing you to sink your nails into his arm desperately. “That’s why you like it when I fuck your ass, right? Reserving your pretty pussy just for Jakey to ruin it.”

A gasp left his lips in total shock.

Something unfathomable brewed deep inside Jake’s stomach when he realized that Heeseung was penetrating your ass the whole time under the cover.

Jake envisioned your drenched, sweet pussy clenching around nothing at the thought of his cock in you and the little nickname that Heeseung teasingly used to build up the tension— a taut knot settling at the bottom of his gut at how turned on he was by the act.

But the last sentence that Heeseung said made him freeze like a deer in headlights.

“Imagining he was the one filming us right now.”

Every fibre of his body reacted to those words, playing them repeatedly in his head like a broken record. Jake felt like his head was doused with a bucket of cold water without warning; mind and body underwent a spiralled loophole of a fever dream.

He was in a state of disorientation when Heeseung walked into his room obliviously.

“Hey, Jake. Did you find your— wow, you okay dude?” Heeseung’s voice fell into deep worry at how ghostly his friend’s expression was.

Jake’s lack of response causes Heeseung’s eyes to trail to the phone he was holding tightly and the obvious sound emitting from the device.

The older male’s face distorts into multiple stages of horror and dread in recognition. The fear that pierced his wide eyes while looking back and forth between Jake’s face and the phone indicated that he was caught red-handed.

The taller male swallowed hard. “We can explain.”

It didn’t take long for Heeseung to call you to come to the shared apartment, albeit in between explaining to you on the phone, Jake heard muffled shouting of fury on your end while his roommate walked mindlessly in circles, trying to calm you down.

Sitting on the sofa patiently in the living room, Jake didn’t know how to handle the whole ordeal or if he was ready to accept whatever lay ahead with the two of you.

The sound of the apartment door swinging open echoed the space, revealing a dishevelled you trudging past the hallway into the living area. Jake felt guilty at your current dismay, possibly running directly here after finishing your class on campus as you were still carrying your backpack.

When you make eye contact with Jake, you look down in embarrassment.

“Okay.” Heeseung tried to fill in the awkward silence calmly, the pregnant pause giving away how thick the tension was in the room. “Where do we even start?”

You scoff distastefully, putting your backpack down harshly on the ground. “Start? How about you explain to me how the video was even found out in the first place!”

Jake drowned out the disputed exchange between the couple, trying to mallow down his rapid breathing. If he let this kind of situation escalate, it might end up being a dumpster fire in a few minutes. His mind wandered to articulate the proper sentence to begin, finally settling on the information he had been aching to know.

“How long…..has this been going on?” Jake didn’t realize how nervous he was until he spoke with a slight rasp, breaking his silence since he discovered the video.

His question shifted the attention of the two to him, realizing that the true dupe of the sitch had been wearily calmed the whole time. But, of course, they didn’t know that Jake himself kept a not-so-innocent secrecy as well.

“The first time we did it…..in my room.” Heeseung glanced your way as a confirmation while you gave a subtle nod back at his reply.

“Why did you guys film it?”

You and Heeseung exchange eye contact with each other apprehensively.

“We did it for the first time out of impulse, and when Heeseung mentioned your name in the middle of it—” You grimaced, trying to explain, but the words died in your throat out of pure awkwardness.

Heeseung flashes you a consoling look.

“Long story short, we didn’t realize how much you have an effect on us that we kept going even after the first. Well, the video, it's…..a living proof of that.” Heeseung continues, biting on his lower lip at the end.

Another excruciating pause follows suit.

It was hard to focus as you tried to read Jake’s facial expression but to no avail. It made you realize the loud ticking sound of the clock in the living room or the soft noises coming from the neighbours above behind the pin-drop silence in the backdrop.

The agitation was getting on your nerves, and all you could think about was the guilt that overshadowed everything else.

“We’re really sorry, Jake.” You apologize sincerely. “We didn’t mean to use you in that kind of way.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung muttered in agreement, flashing a remorseful downward glance towards the younger male with a sigh. “So, we totally get it if you want nothing to do with us and move out of the apartment.”

Anyone who was in Jake’s position would be bewildered by circumstance— finding out that your roommate and his girlfriend had been deliberately having sex for you to hear next door and, on top of that, gaining arousal from your existence unknowingly undermines the friendship that was built on trust seemed borderline intrusive.

But that was the perception that the two of you presumed.

In his mind, he couldn’t fathom such a surreal moment he thought was just an erotic fantasy in his mind was happening, as if the planets had aligned for the sky above to bless a disparate soul like him with the epitome of heaven.

Jake could feel the thrill of revealing his divulgence without a second thought; a small smirk curled his lips.

“Oh no, I don’t think I can do that.”

He chuckled slowly, watching the two faces turn perplexed by his words.

Jake gave a nonchalant shrug. “I mean, have you guys seen how horrible the set-up for the video was? It looks like a cheap DVD porno that many juvenile teens would drool over. Who else other than me can prevent that kind of thing from happening again.”

At this point, the two looked like a pair of gaping fishes standing in front of him, as if he grew a third head or said something wildly demented, completely disregarding the fact that he had insulted the camera work of the video.

There was a notable doubt in their expression, yet slightly reposed by the tether of hope that Jake was saying what they thought he was saying based on his words' innuendo.

“You guys weren’t really being sly about the whole thing, you know. I can hear you banging from a mile away.” Jake revealed, smiling cheekily when the couple immediately flushed in embarrassment.

“Oh my God, Jake.” You let out a tired sigh, but a hint of relief flooded the way you dragged your breath at the end. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

The younger male was slightly taken aback by the question but answered earnestly with his feelings because what he was about to say next will completely overturn the course of each other’s relationship.

The corners of his mouth slid upwards knowingly.

“You guys aren’t the only ones secretly enjoying it.”

If someone asked Jake what his proudest creation was, he wished that he could show them the sight he was capturing right now with his camera.

His figure stood a few feet away from Heeseung’s bed, perfectly encapsulating the shot of the couple making out with your back facing the camera, watching through the crips lens as he zoomed in the way Heeseung shoved his tongue into your mouth as he pulled you closer on his lap.

Jake’s fantasy of the two could never compare to the one he witnessed.

He felt excitement overwhelming his body, holding the camera steadily to focus on Heeseung’s hands, grabbing onto your ass, pulling on the strings of your lace panties until the crotch was wedged between your crack.

Your sweet moans filled the room, no longer timid like before when Heeseung convinced you and Jake that it was the perfect time to film.

The younger male was also nervous— it wasn’t that long ago when the three of you talked about what happened, finally coming to a conclusion about the addition of Jake into the bedroom.

He didn’t realize how nerve-wracking it was, feeling his cock growing hard against his jeans at the way your hips were desperately grinding on Heeseung’s clothed erection, facilitated with the help of the said male’s hand grabbing onto the flesh of your exposed ass.

“Such a needy girl.” Heeseung chuckled darkly after releasing your lips messily with saliva, kissing your neck as he buckled back to meet your movement. “You love it, don’t you? Knowing that Jake is watching you hump my cock so desperately while you show your bare ass to him.”

Heeeseung looked directly into the camera between your shoulders while nibbling on your skin, enjoying how Jake’s fingers tightened their hold on the equipment when you whimpered loudly in confirmation.

He moves close to whisper into your ears, hands snaking along your back to unclasp your bra.

“Let’s show him how much of a little slut you can be, okay?”

Jake’s breath hitched when Heeseung turned you around to face the camera, revealing your ample chest for him to marvel at as it bounced softly, nipples beautifully erect under the dimly warm lights of the room.

You caught sight of how Jake moved forward eagerly until his knees were flushed at the edge of the bed, your skin turning hot at the fact that he was filming your exposed breast so minuscule.

Heeseung pulled you roughly until your back was leaning on his naked chest, narrowing your chance of curling away from the vulnerable position. His large hands cup your breast from behind, kneading the swell in a tender and circular motion.

“Hands behind your back, baby.” Heeseung thumb at your stiff peaks, his nails digging at the sensitive area that you gasp out at the sensation. “Or I’ll have to show Jake that you can come with just your tits being played with like before.”

Jake couldn’t believe his ears, and his mind was already running wild at the thought, wishing that you'll keep pushing Heeseung’s button until he did carry out the punishment for Jake to see.

But you shook your head between the junction of his neck with your eyes squeezed shut, obviously not wanting to be subjected to such a humiliating act, especially for Jake to witness.

“No?” Heeseung teased, pinching your nipples before pulling them away harshly, twirling the hard peaks back and forth with his thumb and forefingers.

You whimpered in agony, clawing at his thighs resting between your hips while shoving your nose deeper into the crevice of his neck in mercy. Heeseung laughed at your state, panting hotly against his skin as he abused your tits.

“Then be a good girl and spread your legs apart for us, yeah?”

Us.

That specific pronoun sends waves of unfathomable pleasure between your and Jake’s legs, reducing both of you into a brazen state.

Following Heeseung’s order, Jake almost let out a moan behind the camera when you slowly opened your legs, his hands trembling at the sight of the very prominent dark and wet patch in the middle of your panties that sticks to the outline of your pussy like a glove.

Heeseung let a breathy chuckle at Jake’s striking reaction. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

A hand escaped to curved downward along your stomach, dipping in between your hips to rub at your clothed folds. You buck your hips at the friction as Heeseung’s deft fingers drag along your puffy lips, eliciting a mantra of moans from your throat.

“This pussy gets nice and soaked just thinking about us. Right, baby girl?” Heeseung cooed, causing you to nod obediently, chest heaving at the way his fingers probed at your sweet entrance teasingly, letting a gush of juices escape to drench your panties even more.

Jake was enamoured at the sight, absolutely winded with a whole zoo churning in his stomach that he didn’t realize he was kneeling on the soft mattress of the bed, capturing the way Heeseung was stroking your clothed pussy while the other was still playing with one of your nipples lazily.

It didn’t help that you were watching him through half-lidded eyes, head lolling to the side with mouth agape when you eyed the visible bulge of his cock through his pants.

Heeseung glances at you when you squeeze his thighs a little harder, following your gaze to see what has captured your attention, causing him to grin.

“Looks like we got a big boy in our hands, huh, princess.”

Jake’s ears immediately perked up behind the camera, unbestowed to him that two sets of eyes were prowling on the outline of his aching cock like a predator hunting for its prey.

Heeseung nudged his nose against the underside of your ear. “Why don’t you be a sweetheart and help him out a little?”

There was no hesitation in the way you hooked on the belt hoop of his jeans, pulling the younger male closer until his crotch was arm’s length from your face. Jake was taken aback by your action, almost letting the camera fall while shuffling his knees on the bed to follow your lead.

You spread your palm over his bulge, dragging sensually with a little pressure to feel him over his jeans. A breathy hiss left his lips when you squeezed lightly on the head, and the friction felt deliciously good that he buckled slightly when you continued to smooth his erection.

The sound of his belt clicking and feeling the tight confinement of his jeans slowly loosening up, he throbs hotly when you tug at his pants, bringing them down to his thighs with his briefs.

“Fuck, Hee…..his so beautiful.” Jake immediately blushed when you whined incredulously at the male behind.

Jake’s cock stood proudly against his abdomen, fully pink and erected from the stimulation of watching Heeseung play with your tits and pussy. Milky pearls of cum had dribbled out of his slit and down to his length, head twitching when he felt your hungry gaze on him.

But you were drooling at how his veins pop up prominently, and his cute balls are nice and tight; it entices you to reach out and fist him firmly.

“Shit—“ Jake could hold it any longer, moaning at the sensation of your hand pumping him slowly and smearing his precum along his thick length.

Still, Jake was determined to fix the shot to you stroking his cock so deliciously, his abdomen tensing up when you flick your wrist harder when you reach his sensitive head, and then moaning loudly when you drag down to the base with a pressure, collecting his wetness between your fingers.

Heeseung watched you play with Jake’s cock as he rested his chin on your shoulder, heavy eyes soaking in the pleasurable sight of his girlfriend giving a handjob to his roommate.

“Baby, use your other hand to play with his balls.” Heeseung mumbled his command close to your ear. “I think he’ll enjoy it.”

Jake rolled his eyes to the back of his head when you fondled his heavy balls, gritting his teeth when you massaged the soft flesh indolently enough to make his hips stutter, igniting the knot in his stomach and making him lightheaded to the touch.

The younger male was gasping for air behind the camera, never thinking such minuscule action could drive him insane.

You lick your dry lips at how adorable his body reacted as you continue to use both hands, feeling an ache in your mouth and wondering how he would feel against your tongue.

Fuck, you bet he tasted sweet.

“Hee, Can I…..?” You ask gullibly to the side, and Heeseung doesn’t need any clarification before shaking his head at your antics with disapproval.

“If you want something in your mouth, baby, you have to ask him nicely. Where are your manners?” You whimpered when Heeseung slapped your clothed clit hard for Jake to witness before pushing your panties to the side, rubbing you raw against his padded fingers.

Jake observed with amazement how Heeseung treated you roughly, loving how you cried pathetically before looking up at him with hope-pooled eyes between your lashes.

“Jakey, can I please suck your cock?”

The way you asked him so crudely with such innocence had him swallowing hard, letting a sound of approval leave his throat.  

Jake thanked the heaven and stars when you engulfed his head around your plump lips, reaching out to rest a hand on your head to steady himself. With your hands around the base, you tongue at his slit to taste his sticky precum before suckling to take more and more of his length into your mouth.

At the same time, Heeseung slipped two fingers into your tight hole without warning; the sudden stretch of your velvet walls to accommodate his long fingers almost caused you to choke on Jake’s cock with saliva.

“Easy, princess. You don’t want to hurt our precious Jakey.” Heeseung used his other hand to securely hold your jaw, ensuring that your mouth was still attached to his length.

“I’m sure the underside is very, very sensitive…..”

Heeseung had never been wrong with Jake’s ticks, and you flattened your tongue to rub on the veiny side of his erection until he felt the drag of your textured taste buds that accentuated the pleasure.

The exact pace was established momentarily— Heeseung was pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy hole with the rhythm of your head bobbing and tongue swirling around Jake’s cock.

The hand holding the camera felt heavy when he grabbed your hair tighter as you plunged your mouth deeper, and he groaned when the tip of your nose was flush against his pubic area, feeling his tip pressing against the back of your throat.

You did this a couple of times, gliding in and out of his length until the wet sound that emitted echoed in the room.

Heeseung scissored your hole relentlessly, feeling you soaking his fingers until it dripped down his knuckles. “Look at you, letting your boyfriend watch you stuff your mouth full with another man’s cock, you dumb fucking slut.”

Tears blurred your eyesight as Heeseung spat at you with degrading words, swallowing around Jake’s hard cock as your boyfriend inserted another finger to abuse your hole, loving how the rough stretch enlightened your arousal.

Jake watches you through the foggy lens simultaneously as you look up to show him the lewdest expression through the camera, the corner of your mouth wide open with his cock and drool dripping down your chin so obscenely.

His cock pulsates at the picture-perfect moment, feeling his threshold teetering around the edge before he loads your mouth with his creamy seed, bucking his hips as a loud moan ripples out from deep within his chest.

“…..that’s it, you eat up Jake so well.” Heeseung’s three fingers curl to press on the tender spot of your cervix, and your walls spasm around them as your sweet release encapsulates you with euphoric pleasure.

The vibrations of your moans around his spent cock kept Jake’s orgasm elevated beyond the clouds.

Everything happens in tandem with each other— you were swallowing Jake’s hot cum while Heeseung rides you off your orgasm as you rock his fingers for more friction.

It gave Jake the perfect moment to readjust the camera's focus on the couple as the tension simmered.

But it didn’t end just yet.

“Come here, pretty girl.” Heeseung coaxes you after licking his fingers clean with your arousal, making you release Jake’s cock with a loud pop as he manoeuvres your head to the side. “I want to have a taste too.”

Jake’s heart lurches from his chest when Heeseung captures your lips and devours your mouth full of his cum. The kiss was sloppy and wet, even downright dirty, as two tongues wrestled to taste each other’s cavern, frenching with open mouths so vulgarly that the slimy spit mixed with yours and Jake’s essence dripped down straight out of a porno.

The proud smirk on Heeseung’s face while he sucked on your lower lip and glanced over at him briefly told Jake everything he needed to know.

“Do you need me to prepare you, princess?” Heeseung asks, wiping away the white strings that form when he pulls away.

He watches you tentatively through hooded eyes, chest rising and falling with puffy lips before looking at Jake nervously. The older male had the gall to chuckle at your state, finding gratification in your shy reaction as he tucked away a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think Jake minds filming me finger fucking your pretty asshole with your head down.” Heeseung curiously looks at Jake’s way at the end.

The said male was heaving in his breath, having the front row seat as he imagined your pink, puckered hole being shoved in and out with Heeseung’s lanky fingers to loosen up your walls, your face flush against the pillow muffled with your cries.

He might get lucky if Heeseung felt the need to take the extra step of letting you come again, your pussy in full display for him to see you clench against absolutely nothing as you drown your folds with your own slick.

This must be a dream; it has to be.

“N-no, I want it to be tight…..” Your desperate plea cuts through the tension, tucking your bottom lip with your teeth as you tug on Heeseung’s pants impatiently.

Heeseung smiled gently, knowingly.

“Okay, baby. But next time, we'll show Jakey how I prepared you, alright?” Heeseung was surprisingly considerate, kissing you on the forehead softly as you nodded at his reply.

Heeseung didn’t want to overload the two with too many things.

Of course, the dominant side of him sought out the ecstasy of showing off to Jake how much he could turn you into a messy whore for their cocks, but this was the first time, and he much preferred if you were in a state where you were confident enough to share it with Jake.

As for the said younger male, Heeseung couldn’t tell with the camera in front of his face but by the adorable body language visible for him to see— Jake’s cock that went limp was hard again against his stomach, head leaking with creamy white beads.

It reassured Heeseung that Jake had no plans to run away anytime soon.

Your soaked panties and Heeseung’s pants and briefs were discarded to the floor of the room. Scooching to hover over Heeseung’s lap with your back to him, the said male was fisting his cock with his precum while his other hand grips on your hip.

“Down you go, princess.”

With the swollen tip of his cock probing at your hole, you whimpered as you slowly sank to ease his length into your walls. It took you a few more breaths at the tightness, but the comforting thumb massaging your sides urged you to bottom down to his base, completely sitting on his lap.

“How does that feel, baby?” Heeseung was nibbling at your earlobe, wrapping his arms around your waist as he slowly rocked your tense figure.

You were breathing heavily, and the initial stretch was a bit painful at how big Heeseung was, but soon, the discomfort slowly disintegrated into waves of pleasure as your walls adjusted to his size.  

“So, so good— I can feel you deep inside me.” You huffed, clenching around him as a sign for him to move.

Heeseung pulled your back to his chest before he descended to lay on the mattress with you on top of him. The position nudges him deeper as he locks his legs around your knees, thrusting up leisurely as an appetizer for what’s to come.

Jake listens to your soft pitchy moans every time Heeseung moves his hips, getting off to the visual of your hole clenching around your boyfriend’s cock with your legs wide apart for the camera to capture.

A callous hand unconsciously trails to fist his hard cock as Jake jerks to the sound of your ass clapping on Heeseung’s thighs.

The once sensual pace turns heavily ruthless as he relentlessly thrusts up, yet the aching in your wet pussy makes you realize its emptiness as you clench back at Heeseung’s cock.

“Ah-aah— Jake— please…..I need you in me.” You call the younger male out as you pull your outer lips for him to see how desperate and pink your hole is, causing him to freeze at how completely fuck out you were.

His action seemed to garner frustration down the older male’s throat.

“Jake,” Heeseung growled sharply, gripping your waist as he rammed you harder with a dark glare over your shoulder. “Put the camera down and fuck her pussy.”

Jake frantically crawls towards you, the camera thrown on the soft mattress somewhere without a second thought.

A drool dripped down the corner of your mouth, teary eyes watching him align his head to your entrance as he filled you up so deliciously good that it hurt to have your holes simultaneously penetrated.

“Oh my god— yes, Jake— fuck, Hee—“

You choke out incoherently when Jake moves to slam his cock in and out at the same time as Heeseung did without mercy, arching your back as your tits bounce with every impact from both the back and the front.

You feel so full to the core, being fuck out of your mind, that you claw at the bedsheets from the pleasure.

“Dirty slut, one cock is not enough for you, is it?” Heeseung hisses out right below your ears, reaching out to slap your tender clit forcefully.

You cried out in pain, clenching around the girth of their cocks as they ruined your insides roughly. Jake bit the inside of his cheeks, watching from above as Heeseung landed another harsh slap against your clit that you almost lurch forward if he hadn’t forced your hips down.

“Hee—hahhhh— stop—“

“Stop?” Heeseung's laugh was almost sinister, rubbing circles around your tender clit precisely with his thumb as tears streamed down your cheeks, burning with humiliation.

“Fuck, you deserve to be treated like a dumb slut. Letting another man fuck your womb instead of your loving boyfriend.” He snapped.

Your surroundings were starting to blur, disappearing from your spatial consciousness until the pleasure numbed your body to your extremities at the way their cocks were abusing your sensitive walls. You were on the brink of bursting into a million pieces, and Heeseung could tell that you needed one more push to bring you to heaven.

“Jake.” Heeseung held your wrist until his nails dug into the thin skin to stop you from trashing any further.

Jake was stunted out of his mind at his name being called out, especially when he was close to reaching his high. Heeseung gave him a powerful stare down with a gleam of insanity behind those big eyes.

“Slap her clit.”

Jake knew the older male wasn’t asking; it was a direct command for him to carry without question.

Immediately Jake’s eyes went to yours below, only to see it begging with helplessness for him to follow Heeseung’s order. He could recognize the blown-out desire to release yourself from the prison of being edged for so long, and all you ever wanted was to come.

Like he was being bewitched by the couple, Jake felt a click at the back of his mind that he had never felt before in his life— even during his time with endless capturing of the camera, nothing could ever compare to how perfect this moment was.

The sound of his slap on your wet clit erupted you into a fit of moans, your abdomen tensing up before you squirt with your back arched on Heeseung’s sweating chest.

All your liquid drenches him with your sweet scent, spraying his lower half and the bed wet as your body convulses uncontrollably. Your skin was breaking into goosebumps that seemed never ending as Jake and Heeseung filled you with their hot seed blissfully.

It felt like time had stopped momentarily, letting the three enjoy the well-deserved orgasm that tumbled over their senses.

With a hand over your eyes, you were sobbing loudly in the backdrop of their groans, bucking your hips in the air until the last drop of your liquid leaked out.

The limpness of your body urged Jake to pull out, watching his creamy load bubble down to the crack of your asshole so ethereally until it met the white rim that formed as Heeseung lovingly rode you out of your orgasm, his heavy balls drowned with arousal as well.

Soft whispers of praises escape Heeseung’s lips against your ears, stroking your stomach with butterfly touches as he licks your salty tears away at how well you wet the bed for them, hearing your hiccups bounce through the walls.

Jake peeks to rummage around in search of his camera, taking it in his hands as he switches to taking a picture and saving the video content he filmed. He aligns the lens to his eye despite trembling at how heady your scent was sticking to his body.

Snap

He could never get enough of the sight of his artistic muses, all picture-perfect for him to capture.

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[svtdarlingbby]

"He's just a fuck-boy-frat-bro" Fratboy!Bang Chan x fem!Reader

pairing: Frat boy! Bang Chan x fem!Reader; featuring stray kids, '97 liners in Kpop, TXT genre: college au - enemies to lovers - slight angst but mostly fun! warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, reader is kinda mean but so is Chan, one mention of blood, slightly suggestive word count: 8904

Y/N's POV

Whoever declared the false dichotomy that studying English was “easy” did not know the amount of work that went into it. Sure, writing has always been one of my favorite hobbies, but perhaps analyzing the arguments that came into play when it comes to creating effective writing is where my passion lies. 

“You know, it would be more effective if you cut out some of the background information. No one wants to read all of that.”

Speaking of arguments.

“Chan, can you just shut the fuck up and finish the peer review?” I rolled my eyes. Workshop days were usually pretty helpful especially since I tend to procrastinate while being a perfectionist about my writing. However, the professor just had to assign us pairs today and of course, she paired me with Christopher Bahng. Or as he liked to call himself, Bang Chan. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but he’s such a fuck boy. He’s a part of some frat, a string of Greek letters I don’t care to remember. He’s always out partying too with his group of friends. They were so loud when I had the displeasure of meeting them when they sat near me at the library during undergrad as I was trying to write a paper. Let’s just say that I didn’t stay in that area for too long. To put it simply, I did not like Chan, nor did he like me. 

“I’m just saying” he began in a sing-songy voice, “Can’t you just assume your audience understands the background context?” 

He knew how to get on my nerves. “First of all Chan, yes. You’re right. The audience is academic so they probably know what I’m talking about,” I began as he smirked. “However, I only included that much background info to strengthen my credibility. That’s called appealing to ethos. Remember that?”

Chan rolled his eyes as the smirk that was plastered on his chiseled face vanished, “Yeah, whatever,” he groaned as he started to read the rest of my paper. 

I suppressed my laughter and looked back at my laptop screen, which displayed the work Chan had for peer review day. As expected, he came in with only an outline for his paper. Probably couldn’t get anything down because he was out with the boys, I thought as I began to scan his outline.

I hate to admit it, but as I read further through Chan’s outline, the more I began to see his vision. He was researching the shift in attitude toward mental health in the 21st century and the language behind that, and honestly, it was a great idea for his thesis. The thing about Chan is that he is intelligent. Despite his annoying attitude and lifestyle, he knows how to write a pretty damn good paper about something he’s passionate about. Maybe that’s why he also found himself in grad school for English with me. I was hoping that he’d go to another university after undergrad, but like me, he stayed for grad school. Just my luck. It didn’t help that we were one of the few students who stayed at our school for grad school with the rest of the cohort coming from other universities. Essentially, I was the only person he was familiar with so Chan always found his way to sit near or even next to me in all four classes we shared. Even during our training sessions, he found his way near me. I just couldn’t get rid of this guy, but at least I can get somewhat authentic writing advice from him.

“Hey Y/N,” said Chan, a suspicious smile growing on his face.

“What?” I said, trying to keep my eyes on my laptop.

“You forgot a comma here,” he said and began to giggle.

I swear if my eyes weren’t permanently rolled into the back of my head by now. “Ha-ha, very funny Chan. Ever take a look at Bean’s hierarchy like we did in training?”

“Yeah, that’s the joke. Or was that too advanced for someone as uptight as you?” he retorted, the smirk back on his face. 

“Uptight? I can take a joke,” I said, trying to sound confident. 

“Yes, you’re uptight. I’ve never seen you at a party before. You should come with me this weekend,” he said, trying to act suave.

“Now why would I want to go to a party with you?” I said, fully looking Chan into his eyes. 

“Everyone in this room knows that you have an ass, why not put it to good use?” he spoke lowly and smirked, not breaking the eye contact as I began to feel myself blush. 

“What is fucking wrong with you?” I said, trying to sound angry but it came out more flustered and whiny. I won’t admit it to Chan but wow, does my ass look that good?

“I’m just kidding, we all know I’ve got more ass than you,” he laughed as he went back to reading my paper. 

“You know damn well that’s a lie,” I blurted out, still staring at him rather than my laptop.

“Oh? Would you like to prove it to me?” replied Chan, almost a little too quickly. He seemed almost taken aback by how quickly he responded yet still smirked. 

“I-” Before I could respond, I was interrupted by a notification from my phone. It was a text from my friend Rosé, who swears Chan and I are soulmates because she thinks we are so similar. Thankfully Chan notices me get distracted by my phone and uses that as an excuse to drop his absurd question and continue reading my paper. I couldn’t wait to tell Rosé about what Chan just said.

Rosé: ok i know we’re both not into frat parties and stuff but Jaehyun is being dragged to that frat party on saturday by jungkook and mingyu and he wants me to come. You don’t have to but do you think you could come with me?

Oh god, she had to be referring to the party Chan mentioned earlier. I thought about it. The worst thing that could happen is Jaehyun getting caught up with his friends and losing Rosé, which I doubt. Jaehyun was truly a gentleman and he was also a part of the English program with Rosé and me. He wouldn’t do that to her. But at the same time, these frat parties were unpredictable and what kind of friend would I be to leave my friend in that kind of situation? 

Y/N: yeah i heard about that party. Don’t worry, I’ll come with. But you’re promising me that we are avoiding frat guys especially Chan

Rosé: of course! We’ll just stay with Jaehyun who would prob want to leave early anyway.  

Rosé: but

Rosé: it’ll be hard to avoid frat guys especially Chan with your ass 🤭

Rosé: and his ass honestly. You guys are both hot so…

Y/N: Rosé i swear I’m not going to the party now

Rosé: NO i was jk. But fr ur hot

Y/N: thank you 😇send me the details of the party when you get them. Also what you’re gonna be wearing!

Y/N: OMG speaking of, guess what Chan said

Rosé: omg what

Y/N: he was trying to invite me to the party actually and he said something about me having an ass yet his was still bigger and so I called him out on that statement and he basically asked me to prove to him that my ass was fatter 🤢

Rosé: HELP OMG now why would he say that 😭

Y/N: cuz he’s a typical fuck boi

I put my phone down because I suddenly remembered I had to finish up Chan’s peer review. Just as I was about to focus my attention back to my laptop, Chan’s annoying voice spoke up.

“Who were you texting?” he asked, so nosy. 

“None of your business,” I responded, still looking at my screen.

“Is it a guy?” he asked, before looking up. “I saw the way you were smiling.”

“Oh my god, it was just Rosé. Why are you so concerned?” I snapped, regaining eye contact with Chan who smirked once again. 

Chan’s POV:

My plan is working, thank god Rosé’s dragging Y/N along to that party. God, she’s so fucking hot when she’s mad, especially at me. She’s so funny, all of my friends, her friends, and even everyone in our cohort know that she finds me attractive yet chooses to hate me. It’s crazy, she’s the smartest girl I know but she’s so stupid, denying her feelings. I just pretend to hate her to keep the game going, and it’s been going on since like freshman year. I feel like if she truly hated me, she probably would’ve reported me or something. Not that I’d do anything creepy, no, I have boundaries. I just love to mess with her. And perhaps I might also love her. 

I don’t know why I ever admitted that. The boys made fun of me so much. 

“Wait, I know you love to mess with her, but you think you love her?” laughed Changbin among the boys. 

“Well, I-” I stammered, before being interrupted. 

“Bro, how? She hates your guts!” laughed Jeongin.

“Okay but-”

“I don’t think Y/N hates him. She would’ve blocked and maybe gotten his ass kicked out of here by now if she truly hated him,” said Minho, a matter of factly. 

“And even though neither of them would admit it, they seem like friends. I mean, they’ve had classes together for five years now. And I’ve seen Y/N willingly sit next to Chan all the time. They’ve even had lunch together a few times! If she hated him, she would’ve moved seats and ignored him all these years,” added Felix optimistically. 

“Oh my god, are you saying Y/N probably loves Chan?” asked Seungmin, wide-eyed. 

“YES! I’ve known it all these years. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, all that tension from denying her true feelings. This confused girl loves you!” mused Jisung. 

“Yeah, honestly, if she wasn’t in the grad program, I might not have pursued grad school. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is,” I admitted, feeling flustered in front of the guys. 

“Okay, so how are you going to tell her?” interrogated Jisung. Of course, he wants me to do something about it. 

“I really don’t know. I never really planned on it honestly,” I revealed, earning a few dramatic gasps from my friends. 

“How about at the party on Saturday?” asked Hyunjin.

“No, she hates frat parties. But I’ve also heard from Rosé that Y/N can party so I don’t know,” I answered, feeling almost hopeless. 

“Wait, Chan,” began Minho, a smirk arising on his features, “What if we make Y/N go to that party?”

“Dude, no. As much as I like messing with her, I won’t force her to go somewhere she’s uncomfortable,” I replied somewhat urgently. 

“No, not like that. You know Rosé, right? Those two are like best friends. She’s dating Jaehyun, right? He’s in the frat and I know his buddies Jungkook and Mingyu are going to drag his ass there,” explained Minho. “So how about we use Rosé to bring Y/N to the party?”

“Damn Minho, why do you have this elaborate plan?” chuckled Hyunjin.

“I still haven’t gotten back at her for that one time she went out with Jisung,” spoke Minho lowly, “If this plan doesn’t work, at least she gets to see me all up on Jisung.”

“Whoa calm down Minho, it was one date remember? Before we were a thing? I ghosted her after that!” laughed Jisung. 

God, I remember that. I was so angry when I found out Jisung’s Bumble date all those years ago was Y/N. Granted, that was freshman year, but still! I shouldn’t be jealous, but Jisung’s one of my bros even though he has clearly moved on. I’m sure Y/N has moved on, God, I hope so. 

“Anyways,” I began, “What exactly is going to happen at the party once she’s there?”

“OH! Rosé should totally abandon her! And then you can swoop in and not act like a pretentious asshole for once!” chirped Hyunjin. “And you’ll be surrounded by all the frat guys, who are going to be acting like that and maybe she’ll see that you’re different than the rest!”

The room erupted in agreement from the guys and I began to feel myself warm up to their elaborate plan. “You know what, I think you guys are onto something,” I nodded in agreement as the guys cheered. “I’m going to text Rosé, I know she’d love to set her bestie up.”

Chan: Sup Rosé

Rosé; oh god what do you want

Chan: ok I’m being fr rn. But I have feelings for Y/N

Rosé: that’s the big news? 😭come on, we all knew that. 

Rosé: I mean, everyone but Y/N she thinks she hates you but we all know that’s a lie

Chan: wait-

Chan: what do you mean???

Rosé: oh um

Rosé: Y/N is literally going to murder me but

Rosé: at our last girls party, I don’t know what she was on but she admitted that she finds you hot 😭

Wait. What. Y/N thinks I’m hot? Oh my god!

“GUYS Y/N THINKS I’M HOT!” I blurted out to the guys who all cheered in response.

“YES CHAN’S GONNA GET IT!” screamed Changbin as he smacked my back rather harshly. 

“OUCH!”

“Sorry bro, the gains, you know?”

I ended up telling Rosé the plan and surprisingly she agreed on the condition that nothing bad happens to Y/N and that she won’t stop her from leaving if she gets uncomfortable. Okay, fair. And I know Y/N. She’s super loyal to her friends so she’ll be at that party either way. God, I’m so excited but nervous. She’s going to look so hot too, I wonder what she looks like outside of her school clothes. 

Y/N’s POV

Thank god class was almost over, but why was Chan so concerned with who I was texting? I brushed him off and finished peer-reviewing his outline. Surprisingly, I left a lot of positive feedback but made sure to sneak in some snarky comments. And I corrected his grammar just to be petty. How are you in grad school but can’t differentiate between a dependent and independent clause? 

“Here, damn,” I groaned as I hit send on the email where the peer-review was attached. 

“Aw, you liked my outline!” rejoiced Chan in that annoying voice of his as he opened the attachment. 

“You should be lucky that you’re receiving my feedback. I’m the only one here that would tell you that you suck to your face,” I said as I began to pack up my laptop into my bag. 

“Well honey, from the looks of it, you found a lot more positive things about my outline than negative,” laughed Chan. 

“Whatever,” I groaned, “Have you even finished peer-reviewing my draft by the way?”

“Almost done, I’ll send it to you in a bit,” he said as he started typing once again. 

“Thanks, I guess,” I muttered as I left the classroom. 

What I didn’t know was that my half-hearted “thanks” caused Chan’s heart to skip a beat. 

The day of the frat party came by faster than expected. Honestly, this whole week was a whirlwind. Thanks to Chan’s surprisingly helpful feedback, I was able to finish the essay before the weekend. I usually don’t drink, but, even being around alcohol can get hungover somehow and I wasn’t going to let a stupid frat party be the demise of my grade. Plus, I had to drive back home. 

Usually, I partied with my close friends and attended quite a few parties during my college career. I wonder how it’s going to be to go to a “real” college party, especially as a grad student no less. Maybe Chan was right. Maybe I am uptight. Whatever. I know his dumbass is going to be at that party. I might as well show him what “uptight” is. 

With that, I had a fun time choosing my outfit! I’ll admit, it was kinda low-cut. Okay, it was really low-cut but it flattered my good in every way. I haven’t worn it in a while but the black blouse was flirty and fun, with the dotted fabric of the arms sheer and the cropped nature of the shirt sitting right at my waist. I’d pair it with some nice jeans that flattered me. The outfit was far from uptight. And I could tell it would be a real crowd-pleaser based on Rosé’s enthusiastic reaction.

Rosé: WAIT DAMNNN OKAY

Rosé: CAN CHAN FIGHT????

Y/N: LMAO thanks but prob not!! 

Y/N: I’d rather be all yours anyways 🙄

Rosé: awww

Rosé: I wonder if Chan’s fave color is black 🤭

Y/N: OH GOD why would you say that 😭 i hope not 🤢

Rosé: LMAO I’m kidding lol butttt he is gonna see you like that just saying

Y/N: okay and? Not my problem

Rosé: yeah sureeee anyways are you almost at my apartment so we could head on over?

Y/N: Yeah, just found a parking spot. Heading over!

Flipping my hair out of my face, I headed toward Rosé’s apartment. Honestly, I was feeling kind of nervous going to this party. What if something bad happens? 

Outside the apartment building, I saw none other than Rosé accompanied by her boyfriend Jaehyun. Ugh, they looked perfect together, hand in hand and conversing about something they both could only hear. Until I interrupted.

“Rosé!” I yelled, quickening my pace.

“Y/N! You’re here!” she exclaimed, letting go of Jaehyun’s hand as we hugged each other and flooded one another with compliments of how we looked. 

“Damn Rosé, that ass of yours in those jeans?” I swooned, fanning myself. 

“Ahem.”

“Oh! Hey Jaehyun!” I exclaimed, caught off guard by Rosé’s quiet boyfriend.

“Hey Y/N!” he laughed as Rosé joined him, presumably at my flustered state.

“Listen! I wasn’t trying to take Rosé away from you! I would never!” I tried to explain, “Even though she was my friend first,” I mumbled that last part under my breath.

“It’s all good! Should we head over now?” asked Rosé as we began to walk toward the frat houses. 

The walk over to the frat house was longer than we thought it would be, but thankfully we all wore sneakers. The chill of the fall air blew as Jaehyun draped his sweater over Rosé’s shoulders. God, they were so cute. I can’t believe someone like Jaehyun was technically a frat dude. Come to think of it, Rosé was also in a sorority. I’m sure they knew their way around these parties. 

We opened the door just to be met with some frat bro who I quickly recognized as one of Chan’s friends. 

“Sup Jaehyun, I see you’re in ratio” he smirked as he let us in.

“Thanks, Hyunjin” laughed Jaehyun as he fist-bumped his brother as Rosé and I followed him inside. 

“Ratio?” I asked, perplexed. 

“Oh some frats have this thing where a guy should bring two girls with him to be let into a party,” Rosé explained as I quickly understood despite an even more confused expression gracing my features. I chose not to dwell on it as I took in my surroundings. Of course, red solo cups are in the hands of every attendee. Some of Chan’s friends were setting up some music. Sports were playing on the flatscreen TV. So far, so good.

“Hey, Jaehyun!” yelled Jungkook, who seemingly popped out of nowhere.

“Jaehyun!” yelled Mingyu, following behind the older one. God, Kim Mingyu and Jeon Jungkook. I’ve always thought they were so hot; I couldn’t help but feel a little shy as I scooted closer to Rosé.

Jaehyun greeted his friends as they all clapped hands, hugged each other, and made small talk. I felt kind of awkward just watching them honestly, so I turned to Rosé.

“I’m not drinking tonight, but did you wanna get a drink?” I asked.

“Sure, why not? Oh my god you know what I just realized?” she said, eyes brightening.

“What?” I asked, ever amused by her.

“You might actually see me drunk in person instead of over text!” she laughed.

“Wait, oh my gosh that’s so true!” I exclaimed with excitement as she grabbed a drink, making our way back to Jaehyun and his handsome friends. 

“Oh there you are,” said Jaehyun as he turned around, his eyes lighting up when he saw his girlfriend. 

Before any of us could respond, the house suddenly boomed with music and a certain boisterous voice made himself apparent.

“HELLO ABΩ! IT’S YOUR BOY BANG CHAN HERE!” 

Oh no. I expected him to be here but outside of school, he’s going to be ten times more annoying. I sighed and rolled my eyes as I sipped on some water. 

“The party is just getting started, my boy Jeongin made this fire playlist. Let loose, enjoy yourself, and remember, tag me and follow me on Instagram @gnabnahc!” he smiled into the microphone. All the frat guys began to cheer, encouraging him. I exhaled, just staring at how ridiculous Chan looked, with his white tee shirt, fitted so perfectly against his sculpted muscles. And his black jeans, emphasizing that dumptruck of his. Of course, he was wearing a cap too.   “Let’s have a great night! And-” Suddenly he stopped, creating an awkward silence despite the booming music. 

And then I realized. He was staring right into my eyes. I blinked a few times before looking away, feeling Rosé nudge me as she stifled a laugh. 

“I lost my train of thought!” Chan laughed, shifting the mood back to the energetic one he had created mere seconds before. “Anyways play some beer pong, dance, have fun!” And once again, all of the frat bros cheered as the party began.

I still felt flustered and annoyed, but also powerful at the same time. Did me just standing there make the cocky and confident Bang Chan flustered to the point of freezing up in front of the boys at a party no less? I smirked, though my cheeks still felt warm as I saw Changbin laughing and smacking Chan’s shoulder. 

“Y/N! Did you hear me? Or were you too busy staring back at Chan?” smirked Rosé as she waved her hand in front of my face. 

“Wait what?” I blinked as she and Jaehyun began to laugh. 

“I was saying you and Chan had a little moment right there! Locking eyes, the world disappearing around you two?” laughed Rosé.

“Very Jane Austen” added Jaehyun in agreement.

“Jane Austen would never write about a frat guy at a frat party no less,” I scoffed, crossing my arms as the couple in front of me shared knowing glances. 

Chan’s POV

I will never hear the end of this. Changbin is still smacking my shoulder with his sheer strength and keeps laughing at how I got distracted. 

“Oh my god, my abs. I’m not gonna have to train them anymore because of you!” laughed Changbin.

“Will you quit?” I rolled my eyes at his antics. “Very funny, I got distracted.”

“It’s not even that you got distracted! It’s who made you distracted! Tell me, what was it about Y/N that made you practically drool in front of everyone? Was it her hair? Maybe her eyes? Or was it her tits- OW!” 

“Not now Changbin,” I muttered after I smacked him. God, I need a beer. I left Changbin behind to find Minho handling the drinks. 

“We all saw that, dude,” said Minho somewhat apologetically as he handed me a drink. 

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, drinking from the cup rather quickly.

“So, the plan?” asked Minho expectantly. 

Right. The elaborate plan of the night. Initially, it seemed easy enough but I didn’t realize just how flustered by Y/N I would be. God, how does she get hotter every time I see her? 

“I was gonna wait a little later into the night to tell Rosé to abandon Y/N,” I explained to Minho who nodded. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and break the ice with Y/N? I think you acknowledging her early on will show her you have some decency,” suggested Minho. 

“That’s not a bad idea,” I replied as I glanced over at Y/N across the crowd before making my way toward her. 

Y/N’s POV:

Rosé was too busy talking to Jaehyun as I took in my surroundings once again. The party was beginning to get lively with more people dancing, especially Hyunjin, who was already surrounded by several guys and girls alike. Dancing would be fun honestly, but it would be awkward going up there and not knowing anyone. Just as I took my eyes off the dance floor, I met the gaze of none other than Chan. 

“Oh god, what do you want,” I muttered unenthusiastically as he walked toward me. 

“So, you made it? I knew you weren’t as uptight as you let on,” smirked Chan as he leaned against the wall, drink in hand.

“Don’t you have a paper to write?” I asked, trying not to take in how attractive he looked at that moment. Maybe all that alcohol around me was starting to intoxicate me somehow. He never looks good.

“Well someone provided me with some extra good feedback on my outline the other day,” he began, smiling, “Let’s just say that was an easy paper to write.”

I scoffed, “No way you wrote twenty-five pages in two days, weekdays no less.”

“Oh, but I did. I know you think I’m just a typical frat bro but I do care about the mental health movement,” he said, cocking an eyebrow up as his gaze bore into my soul. 

“Whatever,” I said, breaking eye contact and feeling a bit flustered. 

“Anyways,” began Chan, “It’s nice seeing you here. Nice to see you outside of class, I mean,” he stumbled as his eyes scanned my outfit. 

It was my turn to make him flustered. “Are you talking about me, or my tits?” I smirked, standing up straighter as he shuffled. 

“Well, I-” he began, before regaining his composure, “I expected to see your ass, not your tits today.”

“CHAN!” I yelled as he laughed, “Well, at least mine are bigger than yours!”

“That I can agree with,” Chan laughed, causing me to chuckle and playfully smack his arm. 

“We can finally agree on something,” I admitted as I playfully rolled my eyes and he nodded in response. 

“I’d say we’re finally on the same level of debate,” Chan winked as he referenced our TA curriculum. 

“Yeah, I would say that we passed conjecture so we’re definitely on definition right now,” I said as I dramatically furrowed my brows, pretending to be a teacher. 

“God, I’m so glad we’re actually applying what we’ve learned to the real world!” Chan exclaimed, dramatically opening his arms and gesturing to the “real world” that was the frat party before him. I hate to admit it, but Chan was actually funny. He knew how to appeal to my sense of humor. As hard as grad school is, these little jokes make me feel like I’m not alone. As we were laughing, I could just feel the stares of several people burning through the bubble Chan and I created. He could feel it too. In the corner of my eye, I could see Rosé giggling at us. Oh god, she probably took some pictures too. I also felt the knowing stares of Chan’s friends, even Hyunjin who was surrounded by guys and girls had his gaze fixated on Chan and me. Also, did I see Jisung, that one guy I had that awkward date with freshman year, stop making out with Chan’s other friend Minho just for them to look in our direction? What was going on?

Chan’s POV

I’m glad Y/N is warming up to me, she’s honestly not uptight at all! As awkward as my first glance, well, stare, at her today was, I’m so glad she didn’t bring that up. Speaking of staring, what is wrong with me? She saw me staring at her tits god I want to die. I mean, she didn’t murder me! That’s a good sign, right? As fun and lighthearted as our conversation was, how come the guys and Rosé had to be so fucking obvious? I thought this plan was supposed to be low-key, not “everyone-stare-at-Chan-to-see-if-he-finally-asks-Y/N-out.” I think Y/N is catching on, I mean, I practically feel everyone’s staring at us. I need to find a distraction, quickly. 

“Ahem” I cleared my throat, “Do you want another drink?” 

“Oh, um, yeah sure,” she replied as I snapped her out of her thoughts as we made our way to the drink table. 

I don’t know why I was reacting so quickly but as Y/N reached for a water bottle, something in me told me to grab it for her. It wasn’t until our hands met on the same water bottle that I snapped out of my actions.

“Oh-”

“Sorry!”

“Here, I’ll grab it for you,” I said, handing her the water bottle.

“Thanks,” she replied, looking down. Oh god, am I screwing this up? Did I make it awkward? From the corner of my eye, Felix gave me an apologetic smile as I wearily shook my head. I had to fix this. 

“So, you’re not drinking tonight?” I asked, breaking the ice. 

“Nope. I’ve gotta drive home but being drunk would be fun,” chuckled Y/N before taking a sip. “Yeah? How’s ‘drunk’ Y/N?” I asked using air quotations.

“I don’t remember,” laughed Y/N, “The videos I’ve seen of me in that state are hilarious though. I get cocky, witty, and flirty, so kind of like you on a regular basis. So yeah, I turn into a fuck boy.”

“That does sound like me,” I chuckled as we sat down on the couch. “We’re pretty similar, don’t you think?”

Y/N grimaced. “Rosé thinks so.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, and it’s so far from the truth!” she exclaimed dramatically, “Rosé, come here!” she yelled over the couch for her friend. Ugh. Just when I thought I could get her alone without Rosé having to completely abandon her friend. 

“Yes?” asked Rosé, another drink in hand.

“Come on, sit down and tell Chan about your delusions. About how you think we’re the same person,” said Y/N who scooted away from me, gesturing for Rosé to sit between her and me. I swear if Rosé cockblocks me…

Fortunately for me, Rosé takes a seat on Y/N’s other side. “You two are so similar oh my god, Chan you don’t even know the full extent,” giggled Rosé as she leaned into Y/N. Ugh. That should be me. 

“Yeah? How are we so similar?” I said glancing between the two women expectedly. 

“You both are studying English!,” laughed Rosé.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t know that!” scoffed Y/N sarcastically as I chuckled.

“Oh, oh! Your zodiac signs are compatible!” Rosé smirked as she raised her eyebrows. 

“Oh yeah, you’re a Libra right? October 3rd?” asked Y/N expectantly and I nodded. She knows my birthday?! I don’t know why my heart began to race at this fact. (A/N- guys for the sake of the story let’s pretend every zodiac sign is compatible with Libra lol!)

“Oh- and don’t forget, your MBTIs are super compatible too!” exclaimed Rosé.

“I’m an ENFJ, what are you?” I asked as Y/N looked away and replied (your MBTI). Oh my gosh, ENFJ and (your MBTI) are like, supposed to be soulmates. (A/N- guys for the sake of the story let’s pretend every MBTI is compatible with ENFJ lol)

“Oh- and also! Remember the blood drive for the frats and sororities? You’re type O Chan!” chimed Rosé.

“How did you remember that?” I chuckled looking between the clearly intoxicated Rosé and Y/N. 

“I’ll let Y/N explain that one!” exclaimed Rosé as she darted her eyes between Y/N and I. 

“Ugh, unfortunately, that means your blood type can be accepted by any other blood type, Chan. So your blood would be accepted by mine,” gagged Y/N, “I’d rather die at that point,” she deadpanned, causing both Rosé and I to laugh. 

“Really? You’d rather die than receive my thick, juicy, red blood from these veins?” I asked, making a fist so the veins on my arms would appear. Y/N bit her lip and exhaled as Rosé laughed even harder. 

“Yeah Y/N, I thought you had an arm kink?” blurted out Rosé, who was probably drunk by now.

“Rosé!” yelled Y/N, getting more flustered and looking away from me. I only laughed harder and felt my ego rise exponentially. She’s an arm girl? Noted. I’ll have to wear tank tops more often. 

“Like what you see?” I whispered to Y/N, flexing my biceps. She didn’t respond, but I saw the way her eyes lingered. 

“Yeah Y/N! You should feel his muscles” laughed Rosé as she grabbed Y/N’s hand suddenly and placed it on top of my bicep

“Rosé!” yelled Y/N as her hand retracted quickly from my bicep. God, if only she knew how flustered I was feeling right now. Before I knew it, I blurted out “I don’t bite. Go for it.” 

“Oh, um. Okay,” replied Y/N as she leaned over and felt my muscles. I tried not to act flustered as she leaned toward me, that blouse of her’s making it hard to focus on her hand on my arm. I swear her skin on mine was something I had been craving for years. “Neat,” she said, retracting her arm but I could see the redness gathering on her cheeks. 

“Whoa, save some room for Jesus!” blurted out a boy with long, dark brown hair. Behind him was a taller boy who looked somewhat flustered.

“Beomgyu? Soobin? What are you guys doing here?” Y/N’s eyes lit up instantly at the sight of them. I could feel my blood begin to boil but I had to maintain my composure. I can’t let something like jealousy ruin the plan. 

“You guys aren’t even in this frat!” laughed Rosé, causing the two guys to chuckle. 

“Yeah and? We’re here for a good time, right Soob?” laughed Beomgyu as he smacked Soobin in the chest.

“Oh- Uh, yeah! How are you, Y/N?” asked Soobin shyly. Why was he asking about her specifically? I kept my mouth shut as I glanced at Y/N, who looked somewhat flustered herself. 

“I didn’t think I’d be here but this one dragged me here,” explained Y/N as she glanced over at Rosé. 

“Okay and? You’re having a good time?” stated Rosé like it was the most obvious thing. 

Everyone chuckled but me, but I tried to play it cool and forced myself to smile at their small talk. Ugh, I just wish these cockblockers would go away!

“Oh my god, they’re playing Rodeo! Soobin, you like that song don’t you?” boomed Beomgyu as he gestured toward Soobin. “Let’s get up there!” he exclaimed as he gestured toward Y/N and pulled her from the couch.

“Wait this song is so funny!” laughed Y/N as she enthusiastically made her way to the dance floor with Soobin and Beomgyu. 

And just like that, my jaw was on the floor. How did these two random guys, who aren’t even in my frat by the way, just snatch Y/N away from me like that? 

“Ouch,” muttered Rosé as I stared at the dance floor in disbelief. 

“Bro did that just actually happen?” I heard Seungmin say as he took Y/N’s vacant spot.

“Man, I’m sorry,” I heard Felix’s deep voice behind the couch as he leaned over to pat my shoulder comfortingly. 

“How- She just- I just-” I stammered, still in disbelief at what just happened. 

“So um, Beomgyu and Soobin know Y/N from biology class during undergrad,” explained Rosé, trying to help me make sense of this. “Soobin was her lab partner.” Honestly, that didn’t really help as I just sighed in response. To be honest, I knew getting Y/N wasn’t going to be this easy. If I have competition, so be it. 

“Give me a minute,” I muttered as I stood up to get another drink. I felt their apologetic stares burn into my back as I made my way to the drinks. I glanced at the dance floor, and of course, Y/N was having the time of her life. God, she looked so hot dancing. Putting that ass to good use like I had said earlier. Just as I was about to look away, an unsightly scene unfolded before me on the dance floor. Why were Soobin and Y/N practically grinding on one another like that? My blood was already boiling, but now it was evaporated by how angry and jealous I felt. I know my face showed that as I made eye contact with Y/N as she smirked. 

Y/N’s POV

Ah Soobin, my old lab partner. My old crush. It didn’t end up working out between us back in undergrad, Soobin claiming that while he did like me, he just couldn’t devote enough time to a relationship. He was a part of many biology related clubs and even president of one. He also had a job on top of all that. Honestly, that was understandable and I quickly moved past those feelings. However, for Soobin I could definitely tell those feelings never went away. Maybe it’s a good thing Soobin studied biology; he couldn’t analyze situations like I could. Let’s face it, Chan was being extra good and not annoying today. That’s really suspicious, and frankly, I don’t know how to react to his good behavior. Admittedly, yes, I was flustered by our interactions throughout today. But he’s just a fuck boy frat bro. He’s always going to be flirting around, probably in hopes of getting laid. I don’t want to be just another one of those girls he fucks for the sake of it. I thought he knew that by now that I’m not into hookup culture. When Beomgyu and Soobin appeared, it was a perfect opportunity to test out my hypothesis: if Bang Chan wasn’t attracted to me like that, then he’d have no problem seeing me dance with another guy. I also just wanted to dance really badly. 

Also, “Rodeo” by Lah Pat and Flo Milli? The song used in every fuck boy thirst trap and slutty TikTok edits? How could I pass the opportunity to not make Chan jealous with such an explicit song about fucking?

“I wanna feel your body on top of mine!” I sang, eyeing Soobin while swaying my hips as some girls hyped me up on the dance floor. 

“Go Y/N!” cheered Beomgyu as he pulled out some smooth moves. 

It seemed like Soobin was getting out of his shell as he suddenly busted out some killer dance moves, slowly closing the distance between us. “Like a rodeo babe!” he winked. I forgot how fun it was to dance, especially with such a supportive crowd. I wonder if someone was watching. I could practically feel Soobin’s warmth behind me as we danced when I locked eyes with Chan who was heading toward the drinks. I could tell he was fuming as his gaze bore into mine. 

“I wanna feel your body on top of mine!” I sang again, trying to be as seductive as possible in the way I moved, never breaking eye contact with Chan. I don’t know where this surge of confidence came from, but god I felt powerful. Maybe this is how Chan usually feels.

Chan blinked back, seemingly flustered and even angry as he looked away and got another drink. He walked out of the front door dejectedly. I laughed as Beomgyu shot me a confused glance but I just waved him off as he continued dancing. As I was dancing with Soobin though, I began to feel guilty. Why the hell did I feel bad for Chan? He didn’t own me, in fact, he always went out of his way to make me angry and annoyed. Okay, he never went this far but still. And I practically just used Soobin to make Chan jealous knowing that Soobin still probably had feelings for me. I’ve always chided Chan for being a fuck boy, but here I was playing with his feelings and even bringing another guy into this mess by using him. Maybe I’m the fuck boy. 

The next song began to play, and I knew I needed to make things right before they got worse. 

“Hey, Soobin?” I asked over the blaring music as I gestured for him to follow me away from the dance floor.

“Yes, Y/N?” replied Soobin as he leaned down to my height so he could hear me. 

“Thank you for the dance, but sorry. I didn’t mean to get all up on you. I don’t want to lead you on, because I’ve moved on since undergrad. I should’ve considered your feelings before I did that, I’m sorry,” I rambled my apology, not really knowing what to say and hoping the damage wasn’t already done. 

“Oh,” paused Soobin as he looked down, “It’s okay, I just… I just wish I hadn’t been a coward and made excuses back then.”

“What are you talking about Soobin?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, you clearly moved on. I always see you with Chan especially since you started grad school. Even at this party, you were with him when I walked in. Beomgyu just tried to convince me to take a chance and try to get you back, but I can see I missed my chance,” smiled Soobin wistfully. “I could tell you were trying to make Chan jealous when you danced with me.”

Well, maybe I was wrong. Soobin read my plan like a book. Why wasn’t he in the English program?

“Was I that obvious,” I muttered, looking away from Soobin as he chuckled. 

“I knew it was too good to be true when you were moving like that. Like you had a point to prove,” chuckled Soobin. 

“Ugh, I’m sorry Soobin,” I apologized once again.

“It’s okay, I know you’re an asshole now,” he laughed dryly before gesturing to the door, “Now go get Chan. I’ll be okay. I’ve gotta take care of Beomgyu.”

I glanced at the dance floor and Beomgyu was clearly very drunk and happily dancing. Soobin gave me a reassuring smile.

“Thanks Soob. Take care,” I smiled back before making my way out of the frat house through the door Chan left from. 

Chan’s POV:

I shivered as the cool autumn breeze hit me, the hand holding my drink becoming disproportionately colder than the rest of my body as a result of the sudden temperature change. God, why did Y/N dancing with another guy bother me so much? Everything was going perfectly until Soobin showed up. I know she’s not technically mine but why does the thought of her being with someone who isn’t me hurt so much? I get so angry when things don’t go my way. What should I do!? I blinked back a few tears as I paced along the sidewalk near the building. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and saw the concerned texts from some of the guys in our group chat. 

Felix: hey Chan, are you okay? I’m here if you need anything

Jeongin: what happened to Chan?

Hyunjin: his genius plan isn’t working *insert video of Y/N and Soobin on the dance floor*

Minho: oh my god that bitch

Jisung: okay maybe I was right to ghost her!

Seungmin: yeahhh it was pitiful 

Changbin: damn I’m sorry bro

I sighed, not bothering to reply. I just needed some space to process the fact that Y/N is probably going to leave the party with another guy. Someone who isn’t me. Maybe I shouldn’t have messed with her as much as I did. I’m sure it must have gotten old pretty quickly. I should’ve just been honest with her from the beginning. But no, I just had to maintain my frat boy image. I don’t know why, or how, I could be this stupid. I just fucked up my chances of being with the prettiest, funniest, and smartest girl I know. Just as I reached to wipe my tears, I heard a familiar voice. 

“Chan!”

I turned around and was faced with none other than Y/N. Concern and regret painted her features as she gazed into my teary eyes. 

“Chan,” she spoke softly, inching closer to me. “I’m sorry. I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have left you like that just to make you jealous on purpose. I’m really sorry.”

I quickly blinked back any tears that remained and wiped the rest off my face. “Y/N, you came to find me?”

Y/N blinked a few times before replying, “Of course. I wanted to mess with you but I could tell that you were hurt. I couldn’t just leave you alone.”

I swallowed before speaking, gently taking ahold of her hand. “Y/N, I need to come clean. I like, no, I love you. I have loved you for a long time. Since like, freshman year. I only pretended to hate you just to mess with you. I don’t know why, I’m so stupid, I just, I thought that was just how a frat guy should act. Clearly not, I just annoyed you and I don’t blame you if you don’t return my feelings. I’ve been an asshole to you for a long time, and I’m sorry,” I rambled, feeling her grip on my hand tighten as I felt myself begin to shake. 

“Chan…” muttered Y/N as she looked into my eyes. God, I’m so embarrassed. 

Y/N’s POV:

I just felt so guilty, and I’m glad I apologized. It’s the least I could do. I know Chan loves to mess with me but he has never gone out of his way to hurt me like I just did to him. However, he really did just drop a bomb out of nowhere. Chan loves me? 

“Chan,” I said, squeezing his hand once again to get him to look at me. It works. “I honestly didn’t realize you felt that way. Wow,”

“Listen, I don’t want to pressure you at all to say yes. I just think you deserve to know how I truly feel,” admitted Chan. 

“No, it’s not that. I just think that you helped me describe what I’ve been feeling,” I admitted. “I always thought I hated you, but I’ve always been drawn to you. It’s not the same if you’re away. And I’m actually kind of glad you didn’t go away for grad school because you’re such a constant in my life. Like, I couldn’t imagine not going to school with you.”

Chan began to laugh. “What’s so funny?” I asked, bracing myself for Chan to probably admit this was a whole prank or something.

“It’s just, I only chose to go to grad school in the first place because you were doing it. And you just so happened to be staying here so I followed you,” laughed Chan, squeezing my hand gingerly. 

My eyes widened, “Well this is news to me!”

“When I told the guys this, they insisted I asked you out. So we made this whole elaborate plan to get you to this party but the plan didn’t really go as planned,” confessed Chan.

“Oh Chan,” I laughed, “Did you guys think you could really fool me?”

“Yeah. So did Rosé,” smirked Chan.

“She what?” I asked, shocked that Rosé was plotting with Chan.

“She’s gonna kill me for telling you but yes, I asked her to bring you here.”

“Oh my god, that’s why her text about the party conveniently came during peer review!” everything began to click as Chan smiled. “I mean, that explains everyone staring at us this whole night.”

“There’s the smart Y/N I know,” laughed Chan, staring at me with adoration which made me flustered. 

“I should’ve known,” I laughed dryly, “But Chan, seriously, I did have a great time with you tonight. And I don’t want that to end so, yes, I’ll be your girlfriend I guess.”

“You what!?” Chan’s jaw dropped as his eyes brightened.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I rolled my eyes as I pulled him into a kiss. His plush lips I used to despise returned the kiss as he fought back a smile, putting his hands on my waist to draw me closer. We pulled back from one another because we couldn’t stop smiling. 

“God, Y/N. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” mused Chan as a genuine smile graced his features as he put an arm around my waist. 

“Yeah it took you long enough,” I rolled my eyes playfully and leaned into his embrace. “Now do you wanna go back inside to party?”

“I’m happy wherever you are, Y/N.”

Chan’s POV

YESSSS I DID IT!!! Y/N IS MINE NOW! Oh my god, oh my god. All it took was for me to word-vomit everything I had felt about her with a pinch of jealousy to make her my girlfriend. I don’t even remember the initial plan because this outcome is so much better. I smiled at the girl in my arms, the one I spent years annoying because I couldn’t communicate my feelings. This is what bliss is. 

Suddenly, my phone began to vibrate like crazy once again. 

“Hold on, I think the guys are texting me,” I tell Y/N as I bring out my phone. I gasp as my eyes widen.

Felix: So uh, I went outside to find Chan and this is what I saw 😳 *insert pic of Chan and Y/N kissing*

Hyunjin: omg how the turns have tabled

Jisung: WHAT!! The switch up is crazyyyyy

Jeongin: oh god my eyesssss (nice job Chan)

Seungmin: phew Chan is okay lol

A message was deleted by Minho

Minho: Aw finally! (I didn’t call Y/N a bitch earlier nooo)

Changbin: CHAN’S GETTING IT AYYY

“What’s wrong Chan?” asked Y/N as she fished out her phone which was also buzzing with notifications. 

“Just check your phone,” I muttered in disbelief, but I couldn’t help but hold back a smile. 

Y/N’s POV

I took Chan’s advice and checked my phone. Maybe something had happened at the party while we were gone? Instead, I found like a hundred notifications from Rosé.

Rosé: AHFEWFEJ WHAT JUST HAPPENED

Rosé: I know you liked Soobin at one point but like

Rosé: omg Chan is actually sad

Rosé: check your phoneee even Jaehyun agrees

Rosé: wait omg

Rosé: *insert pic of Chan and Y/N kissing*

Rosé: care to explain? 🤭

“Oh my god Rosé!” I yelled.

Chan POV:

“Actually it was Felix who took that pic,” I laughed at her flustered state. Honestly, I love that the picture exists. My first kiss with Y/N. How precious!  

“Wanna go kill them?” asked Y/N, rolling up her sleeves. God she’s so hot when she’s mad, even hotter when she’s mad at other people. 

“Gladly, but first, you never answered my question,” I began, smirking at her once again. 

“What question?” She replied, tilting her head in confusion. 

“Can you prove to me that your ass is actually bigger than mine?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow as I eyed her behind and began to laugh at her further flustered state. She paused before suddenly moving closer to me.

“After I get finished with them,” she muttered, gesturing to our friends in the frat house, “Is when I’ll get started with this.” I yelped from the sudden smack on my butt as Y/N eyed me dangerously, smirking. 

“Oh I can’t wait!”

Epilogue:

Y/N’s POV

Even though I hadn’t had a sip of alcohol, I still woke up hungover the next morning in my bed. I groaned at the slew of notifications that had woken me up from my slumber. I can’t believe that I woke up as the girlfriend of Bang Chan, the frat guy who had a notorious reputation for also being a fuck boy. I blinked a few times as I opened Instagram only to find the picture of me kissing Bang Chan to be the first post I saw. 

@gnabnahc last night was crazyyy 🥶💯😳

Comments: 

@yong.lixx: photo creds? 📸 jk so happy for you man

@i.2.n.8: mommy & daddy 😳

@miniverse.__: lookin gr8 bro 

@jutdwae: Ayyyy bro is hard launching rn!

@hynjinnnn: now this is art

@minho_knows: you’re welcome

@han_jisung: yeah she’s much better with you 🤭

@roses_are_rosie: so the plan worked! 😁

@page.soobin: congrats 🥲

⎿ @bamgyuuuu: it’s ok u tried bro 😤

Ok this was my first ever attempt at writing a stray kids fic! I hope you enjoyed! I had a lot of fun writing this! I know Chan would never be a fuck boy irl but as you can see it would be fun to imagine what that might look like!

[floralcyanide]

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Today is your first day pursuing your Master of Arts in History, and the first day you meet your advisor, Dr. Egan, Professor of History.

pairing: professor!john "bucky" egan / fem!reader

warnings: none

author’s note: peep the somewhat grey hair edit of bucky I made lol, this is such s elf indulgent au because I am a history major looking to go into my master's and also I want to be a history professor so yeah ((: I will either write this as an actual fic but idk yet!! enjoy (:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

✦ It’s your first day on your path toward your Master of Arts in History. You’re meeting with your advisor today, who will help you on that very path and hopefully guide you to its end with success.

✦ Apparently, your advisor is prevalent around campus despite you never having a class of his. Your university is quite large, so even though your focus is American History, and so is his, it’s not unheard of to never have met him.

✦ He wasn’t too into social events held by the history department, which is understandable. You loved attending them in your later years of being an underclassmen. But they can be overwhelming at times. 

✦ You wrap your knuckles against the wooden door before you, and before you can finish knocking, a tall, salt-and-pepper man swings the door open with a dazzling smile.

✦ “Welcome, I’m Dr. Egan. I’ll be your advisor for the rest of your time here on campus.” He offers a hand for you to shake, which you happily take. His grip is firm, but so is yours. You were taught to look someone right in the eye while shaking their hand firmly- but not too firmly. Dr. Egan picks up on this.

✦ You’re one of three female history majors in the entire department going toward a Master’s and one of about twenty altogether in the major. So, of course, you’re going to need a firm handshake and steady eye contact to get ahead in your field.

✦ “Quite a handshake you have there,” Dr. Egan says, taking a seat behind his desk. He waves a hand for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of it. “Thank you,” you say, “My grandfather taught me always to have a perfect grip.” “Your grandfather was right,” Dr. Egan nods, “because in this major, being an equal with the males will take you far.”

✦ Your grandfather and father were history buffs and even lived through major historical moments, like the World Wars. So your goal in life is to teach others about what they loved so dearly and went through so harshly.

✦ Your mother had you just a few years before your father was shipped off to England, so you spent the beginning of your school years without him. Your grandfather filled in the gaps you missed from your father, thankfully. Sadly, your grandfather passed just last year, but you aim to carry his legacy and intelligence.

✦ “I’m aware, unfortunately,” you grimace at the thought of the male-dominating discipline, “But I’ve made it this far, and I’m not backing down.” “Great, I’m glad to hear that. Especially since you’re the first student I’ve ever advised for a Masters.” “Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “Then we’ll do this together.”

✦ Dr. Egan winks at that and dives into what research will be required for your first paper. The topic is based on the thesis statement of your final project, a little warm-up, as Dr. Egan called it- to the real deal at the end of your two years of studying. You go on to tell him that you want your thesis to be about the pilots of World War II, but you don’t elaborate on why. 

✦ Dr. Egan tilts his head at you when you don’t explain why you chose that exact topic but let it go. He’s had to learn that everyone has skeletons in their closet, as well as personal things, and not just him.

✦ You can’t help but take in his appearance. His outfit consists of a brown tweed blazer and a white button-up with black slacks. His hair is curly and graying on the sides, and he has a faint stubble with a notable mustache on his upper lip. Dr. Egan held himself carefully but confidently, like he’d been hurt by something but still had an ego of sorts. It reminds you of your father and grandfather. You weren’t sure why.  But you’re going to figure it out.

✦ Dr. Egan is in his 40s now and picked up college again after leaving the military due to PTSD. He eventually got his Ph.D. in History and is now a professor, and has been for a few years now. He enjoys his job. Dr. Egan (or Bucky, as we know him) loves that he can focus on American History without living through it, so he teaches it. Bucky tries to avoid WWII as a topic because he doesn’t want students and staff to know he served. He thinks it will hinder their outlook on him. 

✦ Bucky has only known you through letters and now an hour of talking, but he already expects a lot from you. He knows you are skilled and passionate about history. When you look at him, though, he feels you can see right through him. Bucky doesn’t know how to gauge that quite yet.

✦ You bid farewell to Dr. Egan after about two hours of getting to know each other's basic info as well as what’s expected of your MA in History. You leave, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you walked out of the office. You’re still nervous, but not about your Master’s anymore- it’s about how you’re going to manage the next two years with a man like Dr. Egan.

[sunderingstars]

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ EIDOLONS ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, heavily aha!sampo

— word count: 3k (can you tell i'm an english major? :3)

— overview: (as of 2.3) hello and welcome back to sampo theory time! this time, i’ll be looking at his eidolons, their names & art, and how they might factor in to his overarching identity and story. there will be a few conclusions i reference in this post (like eidolons progressing in a linear narrative), so if you want more on that, i highly recommend reading my eidolon names as narratives and eidolon art as facets of character posts first! it’s not required reading though (god i sound like a professor) — otherwise, enjoy!

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

To begin, I would like to humbly say this post will likely be the most nerdy thing I’ve ever posted in my life. I have written entire paragraphs about two singular words for this. Two words. And I have even more I can say about them! But anyways, just a heads up, this is the type of thing you’d probably see spoken by a stereotypical “nerd” archetype in a high school movie. But without further ado, let’s get started!

(Yes, I am sad that I still only have him at E2 despite pulling every time he’s on a banner. And both of these are from event character selectors :))

My main thesis for this analysis is that Sampo’s eidolons follow a similar narrative structure to other eidolon sets in that they start with his backstory and progress to the present (and open-ended future) of where we are in the story; additionally, the placement of these names with the facets of his eidolon art add to further implications for his personality and development. This can lend itself to multiple of my theories — the main ones I will be interpreting for are Aha!Sampo, Emanator!Sampo / Functional Aha, and Dual Consciousness!Sampo.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ AHA!SAMPO ⌝

Starting with Aha!Sampo, I interpret these eidolons as beginning at his “rise” to Aeonhood, then following through to him “spending” some kind of cost in the present/future for whatever his plans are. 

“Rising Love,” his E1, has two important components — “rising” and “love.” “Rising” seems the most obvious to me, as Aeons have been referenced to “fall” before, so it makes sense that they would also be able to “rise.” Additionally, Himeko has explained that Aeons “ascended from the form of intelligent beings” (Parlor Car Dialogue); beyond “ascend” being a direct synonym of “rise,” this shows that Aeons can come from physical and perhaps even humanoid beings. In fact, Aha’s lore in the data bank, while not explicitly stating that Aha used to be mortal, implies the “climbing” of the tree of existence and laughing, which is a very human act. (However, it is good to keep in mind that this is a parable told by the Masked Fools, and given the nature of Elation factions may not be entirely truthful.) In this way, “ascend” and “rise” may be interchangeable, and the “birth” of an Aeon could also refer to the “rise” of a mortal to Aeonic status.

Next is “love.” For this we need to think not as followers of a Path, but as an Aeon Themself. While it may be easy to think “If he’s Aha, it should say rising elation” — 1. That might be a bit too obvious from a writing standpoint and 2. From an Aeonic perspective, Aha may very well view “Elation” as “love.” They may view spreading Laughter throughout the universe as the ultimate form of love, and as such “rising love” could refer to the rising of a being capable of dispersing “love” (Elation) on a wide scale throughout the universe.

After the ascension, or “rise,” to Aeonhood comes Sampo’s E2, “Infectious Enthusiasm.” This is one of the more obvious ones in my opinion, as “infectious” implies a status capable of imposing itself on others — influencing them in ways that are perhaps beyond mortal comprehension — and “enthusiasm” is closely linked to “Elation” both in wording (starting with the letter E) and in connotation. “Enthusiasm” and “Elation” are both high-energy words, carrying the idea of excitement and even mania. I would view this as “Aha proper,” in which Sampo has come into his full identity as an Aeon and is thus capable of dispersing “infectious enthusiasm” onto others (Pathstriders). (Aha is also directly described as having “infectious enthusiasm” in the Simulated Universe!)

“Big Money!”, his E3, is particularly interesting to me because it seems like an intrusion — a departure from the other, more grounded names. The exclamation mark especially lends itself to the exact kind of “infectious enthusiasm” present in his E2, to some kind of encroachment on his previous mortal existence. This ties into my compulsory existence theory, in which Aeons by nature live in a sort of compulsive state, needing to adhere to their given “concept” just by virtue of existence; this is heavily influenced by the game’s discussion of “Primum Mobile”s, or the idea of “restrictions” that come from existing as an Aeon. Aeons that ascend from mortal beings would experience the brunt of this, as their previous state would essentially be overwritten by this eldritch, compulsive concept. 

I think “Big Money!” could symbolize such a change in Sampo. After ascending to Aeonhood from a potentially mortal form, intrusive thoughts of Elation encroach on his very being — the feeling of momentary thrill, of “Big Money!” — likely leading him into his next state: “the deeper the love, the stronger the hate”.

I’m not going to lie, I’m absolutely in love with the name for Sampo’s E4. It links back to so many aspects of his character in a way that sets up an amazing juxtaposition between his outward appearance and inward feelings in so few words! For me, “The Deeper The Love, The Stronger The Hate” highly relates to compulsory existence. As we see in Aha’s splash art, the smiling masks — the Elation, the “Love” — are always at the front in the spotlight, while the frowning masks — the sadness, the “Hate” — tend to be obscured in the background by shadow. 

In a compulsory existence, I can’t imagine how horrible it must be to constantly be forced into performing a singular emotion or concept. In all likelihood, these negative emotions are barely able be felt at all, leading to extremely repressed layers of fear, anger, sadness and, yes, “hate.” “The stronger the love” — the stronger the Elation — means more repression, more hiding, a stronger fermentation of despising one’s own existence lingering in the background like shadowed masks — “the stronger the hate.” In this way, I believe Sampo’s E4 may convey this dual existence, of an existence where one side is so deeply, powerfully out-of-proportion with the other that any emotion from the other side is left to fester unchecked below the surface. 

(Note: The name could also be referencing the talent level-up, which would show the self-aware aspect of his character. This would apply to his E5 as well.)

This hate, of course, is then covered up by “Huuuuge Money!” (E5), because we can’t have those feelings swirling around in a being of pure Elation, can we? they must be taken out with the trash, overshadowed with yet another encroachment of exclamation marks and the thrill of sudden gains. After Sampo’s rise to Aeonhood, it must’ve been a constant battle between these underlying negative feelings and his compulsory, Elated existence — and given the linear progression of most eidolons, this must’ve been a pattern that repeated for millennia, over and over and over again, one he can never escape or solve. Perhaps it still is. 

Which is why, in his E6 “Increased Spending,” I believe Sampo may be “paying a cost” to try to alleviate this issue. Whether by becoming mortal, sectioning off his power to others, passing along his title, or any other number of potential solutions I don’t know, but I feel like he is turning his compulsive nature of Elation to the thrill of the “cost” in the hope of changing some part of this ever-chaotic, ever-stagnating existence. Either that, or it is to further a master plan we the audience don’t know about.

Overall, in terms of Aha!Sampo, I interpret these eidolons of tracking his rise to Aeonhood through his compulsory existence and fermenting self-hatred, all the way to “increased spending” trying to find a way around this problem.

Now, let’s take this a step further and add his eidolon art into the mix. This is where I’ll start to get into some of the conclusions I discussed in my eidolon art as facets of character post.

E1 (Rising Love): Keeping in mind “rising” as potentially referring to the rise of an Aeon and “love” as potentially referring to Aha’s idea of Elation, I see this figure as an ascending or untouchable silhouette; “walking” (or perhaps more aptly, climbing) into a new role. It also creates a distance between a potential “past” mortal form and a “current” Aeonic or ascended one.

E2 (Infectious Enthusiasm): I find it so interesting that “Infectious Enthusiasm” was chosen for the eye-centered eidolon. Since “Infectious Enthusiasm” is so, well, Aha-coded, this matches with the conclusions of first impressions and inciting incident from my eidolon art post. I believe this eye is meant to represent the first true “glimpse” of Aha people get — it is very close to the face without being too personal. It also spotlights Sampo’s unique facial features, mainly the almost condescending furrow of his brow. However, the eye itself has deep shadows, most likely referencing the dual hate within his being. This would be the “inciting incident” of Sampo in his Aeonhood proper, at the height of his power.

(Note: “Infectious” + the focus of an eye may further imply the presence of a “gaze” and the ability to distribute power in an Aeonic way.)

E3 (Big Money!): E3s are by far the most character-specific eidolon, with each character interacting with an important object to them. I feel like money is only fitting for Sampo, since it matches both the eidolon name and his obsession with making money. It very much leans into the “con-man” aspect of his character, and would make sense as the way acquaintances or those he keeps at arm’s length would view him (probably his customers).

I also find it extremely interesting how he is looking down. We see this a lot throughout his mannerisms and idles, with him always seeming to have a condescension that looks “down” on others below him. While this could be just another facet of his character, it also matches up with the way an Aeon may view the mortals around them — no matter how close They get to someone, that someone will always be “below” Them. It’s not even a conscious decision, just a natural byproduct of Aeonic existence, much like casting Their gaze down to bestow power on Pathstriders. Whether Sampo has become truly mortal at this point or not, it’s probably a bad habit to kick regardless. (I would also love to point out how him looking down at the money is also reminiscent of this (albeit more nostalgic and “loving”) face he makes towards Sparkle, a whole human being:)

E4 (The Deeper The Love, The Stronger The Hate): Here, we zoom in even more on his personality. Beyond the superficial impressions people get from seeing him at a glance, we have now entered a more complex emotional understanding — his eye, unlike in his E2, is more faded and shadowed, the hand scratching his head and his smile pointing towards a sort of “act” he puts on for others. This shows multiple dimensions of him: both the charismatic, smiling con-man, and the hatred lurking beneath that façade’s surface. This would be in a more present timeline, highlighting his “fake” and mysterious nature as well as how he is portrayed to people who know him better like friends. It shows a clear dissatisfaction with the façade he has to put up; whether the “love” is also a true emotion to him is up for debate, but either way this eidolon has him balancing between these two sides of his being (potentially balancing between an eldritch and mortal consciousness, or dealing with the aftermath and residual power of a past Aeonhood). (He also seems to be looking down at the spot the masks would match up with if the silhouette was looking down in Aha’s splash art — it is possible that this “hate” refers to the hate he has for his power or the power of the masks. Or, perhaps, this looking down is a general way to symbolize a being of higher power looking down on those below them like Pathstriders.)

E5 (Huuuuge Money!): This eidolon is more casual and comfortable than the others — there seems to be no dual-sided hate, nor does there seem to be as prominent of a focus on obsessive moneymaking in the art itself (the name is a different story). Instead, the main focus is drawn to Sampo’s outfit, the moniker of his existence in Belobog. The upper half of his face is still cut off, but the art seems to be hinting at a potential comfortability in Belobog, as well as the future mystery of his true identity (and if he will choose “Sampo Koski” as his real self). I actually love this combination, because it shows how Sampo may be at his most casual in Belobog; it’s clear he’s made real connections with the people there, and regardless of his motives, it seems to be a place he deeply cares about. This would be his appearance to close friends, most likely those aforementioned connections in Belobog like Natasha or Seele. (However, the looming encroachment of “Huuuuge Money!” still hangs in the air, perhaps signaling a bigger issue with Aeonic consciousness persisting despite his best efforts.)

E6 (Increased Spending): Finally, we get to the core essence of Sampo’s being. This is him at his most vulnerable, his appearance to only a select few special people. His head is tilted, his neck bared, showing clear trust and confidence in this position. The main thing of note here is the similarities between E6 and Aha’s splash art — the same pose and build with a different tilt.

This would mean that Sampo’s identity as Aha is his most vulnerable form of being — the fact of others knowing who he truly is, of wading through his personable exterior to reach the truth at the core of him, is a privilege only a trusted few get. This most likely points towards the “cost” implied by “increased spending,” the idea that, for whatever reason, Sampo’s true identity being revealed at the wrong time or too soon would put him in a less-than-ideal situation. As such, it is something he holds close to his chest (at least in Belobog) either willingly or unwillingly. (Note: This could also reference a past identity as Aha, it does not necessarily have to be something he experiences currently.)

It also shows that the silhouette in the splash art is the “core essence” of either Sampo, Aha, or both. Beyond the masks (much like Sampo’s façade) lies a deeper, truer version of who Aha is. The true Sampo is not the masks or the smiles or the laughs, but the shadowed figure beyond them, the silhouette that holds the hidden emotions of an Aeon.

I would also like to point out that, on the whole, Sampo’s eidolons (and kit in general) focuses on damage over time. Interpretations can be varied, but I personally like to think this further references the idea of “cost,” and that staying in mortal form as Sampo may be hurting him over time just like his DOTs affect others!

Overall, the art for these eidolons paired with the names create a fuller picture of who Sampo might be and what he might be hiding. There are a lot of hidden clues and implications that can be applied to several different interpretations, and I tried to account for multiple in my analysis! The standouts for me are his E2, E3, and E6, but that’s just because of personal preference. Before I conclude, I want to briefly interpret these eidolons for some non-Aha!Sampo theories.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ALTERNATIVE INTERPRETATIONS ⌝

There are other interpretations to be had, namely Emanator!Sampo and Dual Consciousness!Sampo. Many of the points I made for Aha!Sampo can be applied to Emanator!Sampo, as we know Aha is both capable and willing to give others entire mastery over Their path for shits and giggles. It is possible that Sampo, as either an Emanator or a “functional” Aha or both, could have a similar “rise,” “infection,” and compulsory existence as a result of Emanator status. Additionally, any kind of dual consciousness where Aha is trying to impose Their will on Sampo could contribute to the constant push-and-pull of two schools of emotions — even minds. We could read this as a more literal encroachment of Aha on Sampo’s mindspace, quite literally trying to force Elation into his brain while Sampo’s consciousness fights back. In this way, the “love” and “hate” mentioned could refer to more of Sampo’s feelings towards Aha as a separate or encroaching entity, rather than himself or his own existence.

(Note: This could also work for Aha!Sampo where Aha’s power & status is passed down or won like a sort of crown or title — a “mask” if you will — and Sampo is the latest inheritor/receiver of it. The eidolons would then track from a more recent experience of receiving power and dealing with the encroachment that comes with it. I think it would also lend to much more fear and confusion as this new existence would be a stark departure from Sampo’s previous mortal life.)

(Note 2: Electric Boogaloo: This could also work with a “transformation” theory where Sampo’s more human form and his eldritch-Aha counterpart have two distinct mind spaces, and the “encroachment” of “Big Money!” and “Huuuuge Money!” could be indicative of the literal mental change that happens when he transforms, leading to increased spending (or the “cost”) of him trying to stay in human form as much as possible because he doesn’t like what he becomes when he changes.)

(Note 3: I promise this is the last one: It is also possible that Aha has sectioned off these feelings of “hate” into a separate being — i.e. Sampo — and “The Deeper The Love, The Stronger The Hate” shows that how despite being separate physical beings, Aha and Sampo share an emotional space in which the “love” of Aha directly influences the severity of the “hate” in Sampo. Just a thought.)

Anyways, I find these eidolons super cool! I love how Sampo flips through his bills in his E3 and how his E6 mirrors the silhouette in Aha’s splash art. Even if the Aha! or Emanator!Sampo theories don’t end up being true, there’s some really cool psychological stuff going on that could speak broadly to his relationship with money, gambling, and his own self-image.

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ if you read this far, thank you for doing so! it means a lot to me when people take the time to listen to my silly little theories, so yes, thank you! if you have anything else you want to add or if you just want to talk about these theories (which i am happy to do at literally any time) my askbox is open! hope you enjoyed my nerdy rambling :3

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© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[study-for-hogwarts]

Since I just finished my bachelor thesis and have all this -for now- unnecessary knowledge swirling around in my head, I let it out here, in case anyone can find it useful.

I present: the biggest (formating & general) rules in thesis writing (as proposed by my German professor):

1. Per page: at least 2 maximum 4 paragraphs. Professors don't like to have one huge block of text for more than half a page. They will be less likely to want to read your paper.

2. Figures and Images: put them in the text where they are spoken about, don't just refer to them being in the appendix. It disrupts the reading flow and no professor likes to shuffle back and forth in a paper multiple times. Also, images and figures should be centralised on a page, seem coherent with each other in their entirety (especially if you created them yourself, use one colour and design pallette if possible) and be named correctly. Additionally, ich you use more than 3 or 4 images/figures, have a table of tables/figures in the front of your paper after table of contents.

3. Use figures and Images - be visual, make your thesis as easy as possible to understand. No one likes to read something and have his brain in knots the whole time.

4. Use times new Roman (or Arial) in size 12, 1.5

5. Recap: If your paper is really long, we're talking about 45 pages plus and you are talking about something from chapter 2 in chapter 7, briefly (!) recap it for ease of understanding and to reinforce your red string (roter Faden).

6. Subtitles: rather have too many than too few subtitles, they make it easier to navigate the paper and help you keep track of the smaller sections (they can also help in the writing process as too not lose focus of what you are doing).

7. Limitations and future research: at the end of your paper, after the discussion and before the conclusion, you have to name limitations. If you think you had none, look again. NO paper, none at all has no limitations. If you can think only of a few, you can also add them in one or two sentences to the conclusion, but it's better to have a separate part. For theses or papers in general, common limitations are time constraint, limited access to data, limited know-how, etc. After limitations, you can have another small chapter called "future research", here you can put all the ideas that you had during writing, which are in relation to your main topics. Maybe you would have liked to research more into a specific area, or you were missing key information somewhere. In future research you can put all the ideas you would like to see researched in the future.

8. Page numbers: i hope you were clever and formatted your document with page numbers, titles and subtitles before even starting to write (if you weren't, like me), it's not horrible, but it can be slightly annoying. Don't try to do it by yourself if your not sure. Just don't. You will probably get frustrated and your stress levels will rise even more. Just Google "how to multiple kinds of page numbers Microsoft word" and follow the instructions exactly. This saves you time and nerves. Usually in theses, you use Greek page numbers (I,II,III,IV,V,VI,...) For table of contents until the introduction, and then continue with them as soon as your bibliography starts. For the part in between (introduction until conclusion) you use Roman (?) numbers (1,2,3,...).

9. Titles: if you use 1. 1.2 1.2.1 etc., make sure that it is necessary to use things like 4.5.5.1.1. A rule of thumb is, if you can't say 2 (i.e. 4.5.5.1.1 but not 4.5.5.1.2) than you don't need to say 4.5.5.1.1 at all but put that part unter 4.5.5.1. Of course, this rule does not work all the time, but I like to check the necessity of my structure in this way.

10. Plan more days: When you are nearly done with your writing process, many of us estimate 1 day for formatting and 1 for proof reading. This is, was and never will be enough. Especially not if you are a perfectionist. Plan at least 1 week for formatting and proofreading. Honestly I would recommend 10 days. Because after writing a huge paper like this you are bound to be exhausted and will crash some days. Also, it is good to take 1-2 days of distance from your work to have a fresh point of view. If I would write a bachelor thesis again, I honestly would calculate 2 weeks for formatting and proofreading. If you have to "fix" your sources, definitely take 10 days. You will take 2 days for sources, if you have to find additional ones, or check them.

11. Last but not least: if possible, register your bachelor thesis (i.e. in Germany that is the point when you officially start your writing period (usually around 9-12 weeks) as late as possible. Do as much research, etc. before this time starts. I won't say write at least half of your thesis before you start this period and have all your questionnaires/interviews/or whatever research type you use ready to go. I won't say that, but well... Just, 9 weeks is nothing. Honestly, think about the 2 weeks towards proofreading, sources and formatting (+trying to get calm after being stressed continuously for 7 weeks (I was)). Just, if you think now is the time to register, wait another two weeks.

That's all for now, I know I will use this again for my master thesis, so I will leave this here for now. I hope it helps some of you too.🤗

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

Hi😊 i hope you're having a nice day!

Could i request a Larissa/21-22 Student reader(young teacher if you're not comfortable writing it with a student)fic with prompts 1 and 50 please? (Smut)

R have a big crush on Larissa. One night, she was walking past Larissa's room when she heard moans, she couln'd believe what she was hearing, she stopped and decided to take a peace of paper and write #50 on it with a 💋 with her lipstic (yea she's dumb like that), not writing her name and slip it under Larissa's door and ran back to her dorm. Larissa had no idea who could've wrote that and she was very embarassed that someone heard her..yk... The next day when Larissa walked past R in the hallway, she thought she saw a weird look in R's face and then she saw the lipstic, that lipstic, and it just clicked in her head. She always thought R was a bit of a tease with her but she never thought anything about it, but now.. Larissa decided to go to R's dorm, not knowing what she would do when she'll reach it. And what she heard throught that door, she thought that maybe she could pay R back for what R has done to her.😉 She openned the door slowly so R won't hear her and closed the door behind her, then she wispered #1. And then it would end up full of smuth, you can add as many kink as you want, even toys if you like, please?😊 (was this request too specific? I hope not😕)

Thank you if you decide to write it, i really love your fics and i really wanted to ask one too! And thank you even if you don't, for reading this!💋

A way too shy anon😅

i took some liberties with your request, i hope you don't mind! i made reader a 27yo phd student and it's a non-magical au! also..... i know i was probably expected to write a short, smutty thing, but before i knew it had a plot and it was 4000+ words whoopsie please don't hesitate to leave a comment on ao3, it makes my heart sing! <3

without further ado, enjoy some larissa x reader smut :) tags: car sex, mommy kink and idk how to tag adkjfshgd

You walk through the dark, empty corridor that leads to Professor Weems’ office. Most people have retired for the evening — it’s late, way too late for an official meeting, but given that lately you’ve been getting rather friendly, you hope she will excuse the informality. You know you will probably find her there, as she often works long into the night — and you really need her help with this chapter. The deadline for your PhD is rapidly approaching and you are still nowhere near done. 

She truly is a great mentor — always happy to meet with you and answer any questions you have, ready to spend hours going through your work and analysing materials you brought her. You somehow always end up spending a lot of time together — more often than not ending up in deep and heated discussions about various subjects (that sometimes relate to your work, and sometimes don’t) after you’ve finished discussing your thesis. You feel like you could talk to her the entire day without getting tired — she is remarkably intelligent, knowledgable on many subjects — her taste in art exquisite, and her takes are often unique. She always leaves you with several book recommendations (“Read this, darling, I am very curious what you will think about it,” she usually says and writes down a title or two, “read it when you find the time for it, of course — you have a thesis to write,” she winks — you somehow always find the time, sometimes sacrificing those few precious hours of sleep). 

Larissa Weems is also very, very attractive. She is an unusual looking woman — very tall, imposing, with platinum blonde hair and a peculiar fashion sense — she dresses like a movie star from the 1940s — but she is ridiculously charismatic, expressive, charming. Her laugh is contagious, her eyes bright and sparkling — you can’t be blamed for being absolutely enamoured with her.

You thought about asking her out once you get your PhD— age difference be damned. You are a 27 year old woman — you are free to do as you please. It’s just that, well — she is your mentor,  at least for now, and even if she wasn’t, she is just way out of your league. You don’t even know if she likes women, (probably not, knowing your luck) — and if she does, there is no way she would like you (even if you did have a very interesting discussion about sapphic undertones in The Marriage of Figaro — that scene between Susanna, Countess Rosina and Cherubino is rather… sexually charged — she seemed to share your opinion).

Lately, you feel your relationship has reached a deeper level — your meetings would almost always end in a nearby bar, where you’d relax with a glass of wine and continue your conversation late into the evening. Last time, she got slightly tipsy and became rather touchy-feely (she seems to be one of those people who are get very affectionate when drunk)— putting a hand on your shoulder, brushing against your leg under the table (then immediately apologising and pulling away), and when you got back to campus, she hugged you before parting ways. You can still recall very vividly how warm and soft she was and how she smelled faintly of sweet perfume and red wine. Since then you can’t stop imagining her touch — in very inappropriate ways. You try your hardest not to get too invested, though — she is your mentor, first and foremost. 

For all those reasons, you conclude she won’t be terribly upset at you if you barge into her office at this late hour. Worst case scenario, she tells you she’s too busy right now. 

You are just about to knock on her office door when something stops you dead in your tracks — a sound.

A moan.

You stand in front of the door. You hear nothing for a couple of seconds and almost knock again, certain you’ve imagined it (because why would anyone be moaning here at this hour?), but then you hear it once more.

It’s coming from her office. Is she with someone (your heart sinks at the thought, and you immediately scoff at yourself — as if you ever had a chance)? 

You know the appropriate thing would be to leave immediately, but something keeps you there, standing in front of the door, listening. 

The moans continue, and there is no doubt about it — that is her moaning, and there is no one else with her. It’s very clear what she is doing.

You should leave, but you stand there, frozen, listening. You don’t really want to go. 

Her moans sound heavenly — they send delicious jolts straight to your core. You can’t help but wish you were the one making her moan. 

Later, when you get back to your room, you don’t know what possessed you to do what you did. Might have been sleep deprivation, caffeine overdose, or lack of proper meals from days of working on your thesis non-stop, might be that she is the most attractive woman you have ever had the pleasure of knowing and her moans were just too much for your tired brain to handle — but you take a piece of paper out of your notebook and write a very inappropriate thing on it.

I thought your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world. I was wrong — it's your moans.

You stare at the note for a couple of seconds. The moans coming from her office are getting louder — she must be getting close to… 

…your brain short-circuits at the thought.

Without thinking, you place a kiss on the piece of paper, leaving a coral-coloured lip-print on it. 

Inside her office, Professor Weems keens. 

You slip the paper underneath her door and run back to your room. 

You continue working through the night, falling asleep on your desk around 5am. You wake up at 8, and by then the whole episode feels like it might have been a fever dream.

You still need her help with the chapter, however, so you send her en email asking if she could squeeze you into her schedule today. You get an answer almost immediately.

I am terribly busy today, but I could see you during lunch break. We could eat out together and go over the chapter, if you’d like. Please send it to me beforehand so I can read through it and make notes! :-) 

Sent from my iPhone

(You find her boomer smileys very endearing.)

You try your best not to think about last night’s events. You are lucky she can’t recognise your handwriting, given that you always write everything on your laptop. 

You steal an hour of sleep, take a shower and put on some lipstick and mascara before leaving to meet her at cafeteria for lunch. If you’re lucky, you will succeed at pretending last night never happened.

You are not lucky.

You can’t stop staring at her mouth as she talks, as she chews her lunch, imagining all types of lewd sounds coming from it. It’s downright erotic, the way her lips move — no one should look that sexy chewing food.

“Darling? Are you with me?” she asks, making you snap out of your inappropriate daydream.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit spacey today,” you answer, embarrassed, wondering if she caught onto your staring.

“How many hours of sleep have you gotten in the last couple of days, darling?”

“Uhm… in the last three days, I think I got about ten hours combined.”

“You really should take better care of yourself.”

“I know, but there’s just so much work to be done,” you sigh. “Is it supposed to be this hard to get your PhD?”

Professor Weems chuckles (the loveliest sound). “I’m sorry to inform you that it is — at least if you want to do it properly.”

“How was it for you? When you were getting your PhD, I mean? It’s hard for me to imagine you going around disheveled and sleep deprived. You always look so put together.”

“Ah, darling, it’s one of the perks of reaching a certain age — you can finally afford some of life’s little luxuries, such as sleeping six to eight hours a nigh. However, I absolutely did go around disheveled and sleep deprived. I was living off of caffeine and salted crackers — I was a rather pitiful sight. I’m glad I did it, but I’d never go back.”

“So you’re telling me life is easy in your forties?” you tease.

“I said easier, not easy. I do still get terribly stressed about things. I was rather stressed yesterday, as a matter of fact. I have so many things to do today, and I will be working late again.”

“And what do you do to relieve the stress?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You know very well what she did yesterday to relieve the stress.

“Oh, this and that. Usually I watch something that takes my mind off work.”

(“Porn?” you think.)

“I think we should get going though, darling — lunch break is almost over. Let me just fix my makeup,” she says and pulls her signature red lipstick and a compact mirror out of her bag. She fixes the edges of her lipstick expertly.

“Do you need to fix your lipstick, darling?” she asks, handling you the mirror.

“Oh, I might, actually. Thanks.”

Only when you’re done fixing your makeup and you hand the mirror back to her do you realise she has just watched you put on the same lipstick you used to leave a lip-print on that wildly inappropriate note you slipped under her door. 

You look at her, your stomach twisting with anxiety, searching for any sign of recognition on her face.

Her face is unreadable, but you wonder if she holds eye contact with you a little longer and a little more intensely than usual. You might just be imagining things, though — you are terribly sleep deprived.

“Thank you, darling,” she says, giving you a bright smile. “Shall we?”

The cafeteria door is a bit narrow, so you step back to let her pass first, but she puts a hand on your waist and gently pushes you past her. Your shoulder brushes against her as you do so. Being this close to her makes your heart beat faster and your limbs turn to jelly.

You look up at her (she is so tall). She’s smiling at you. It’s a bright, toothy smile that makes your insides melt and your brain become mush. 

“I will be working late tonight, so if you need any help you know where to find me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

“I can spare an hour for my favourite PhD student.”

“Your only PhD student.”

“You should just accept the compliment, darling.” She squeezes your shoulder and winks. “Good luck with your research. Try to squeeze in an afternoon nap. Ta-ta!”

She turns around and walks in the direction of her office, leaving you standing in front of the cafeteria like an idiot. As she walks away, you stare at way her hips move in the tight skirt pencil skirt she’s wearing. After a couple of seconds, you realise your mouth is open, so you quickly close it before anyone notices you are behaving like a horny teenager. 

You slowly drag yourself to your room. As you sit down and start going through the notes she gave you during lunch, your thoughts keep drifting to her ass in that pencil skirt. You sigh.

This is going to be a long day.

By the time evening comes, you are nowhere near finished with the chapter that was giving you grief yesterday. You know what needs to be done and you have finally found the right source to support your argument, but you have a hard time concentrating, and that makes you work in an excruciatingly slow manner. Your thoughts are scattered and you keep thinking about the deadline that looms over your head. Stress and sleep deprivation are truly starting getting to you (it also doesn’t help that your thoughts keeps drifting to Professor Weems and her tight pencil skirt). You wonder if you should take a quick power nap, but you are so caffeinated and anxious you doubt you could sleep if you tried, despite being exhausted, so you continue to push through.

It’s around 9pm that you hear a knock on your door. Before you can react in any way, the door opens and Professor Weems is standing in your room.

“I hope I’m not bothering you, darling. I just wanted to check how you’re doing before I retire for the evening.”

“Not so well, I’m afraid. I am nowhere near done with this chapter. I know what I need to do, it’s just that it’s going so painfully slowly.” You bury your head into your hands and let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry I’m being so whiny about this. I am just so stressed.”

Professor Weems approaches your desk and sits on it. Her thigh is just next to your head. You look up at her.

“Darling, you are working yourself too hard. I would tell you if I thought you are terribly behind with your research, but I honestly think you’ll make it. Don’t forget, I have to sign my name on your work — I would never lie to you about your progress to make you feel better — so trust me when I say you should let this go for tonight and come back to it when you’re less sleep-deprived.”

“But—”

“No buts. Come on, I am taking you out for a glass of wine. You should relax. It’s painful to watch you like this.”

You would never decline a glass of wine with Professor Weems, so before you know it you are sitting in that bar near campus having a glass of red wine (that turns into two and then into three glasses). The alcohol is getting to you, since you haven’t eaten that much today — you feel warm and fuzzy and slightly drunk.

Professor Weems seems to be getting tipsy as well, because she is getting very touchy with you again. She laughs at your stupid jokes (her laughter is one of your favourite things about her — loud and unabashed and melodious) and touches your shoulder often, sometimes letting her hand linger way longer than necessary. At some point in the evening her leg touches your own underneath the table.

She doesn’t move it, nor does she apologise. 

“You were right, Professor Weems, I did need this,” you say. “I’ve been feeling really out of it for the last couple of days.”

“Oh, I told you already, call me Larissa, darling. Professor Weems is so formal.”

“Are you big on formalities, Larissa?” you ask. You decide to try and push your luck — your confidence is not that high, but you are not an idiot. You are pretty certain she is flirting with you, unless you are completely delusional because of sleep deprivation. 

“Usually yes, but as you’ve probably already concluded by my taste in literature, I do think life would be terribly boring without letting the irrational, passionate streak in us win sometimes. As is the case in many literary classics — the plot simply couldn’t move forward without one of the characters disregarding propriety and doing something reckless and passionate.”

“I agree. I often wish I had the courage to do something like that in real life — my life would be so much more interesting.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, darling. I do think you have what it takes.” She gives you a big, bright smile. “Oh, wait a second, darling, your lipstick is smudged. Here, let me.”

She leans forward and takes your chin in her hand, then brushes along the corner of your lip with her thumb. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine and makes your entire body hot with desire.

“That’s a lovely colour, darling. Coral suits you very well.”

She knows. She must know. 

She leans back into her seat. You decide to be bold.

“You know, I am still feeling a little bit tense. You said you like to watch something to relax — but I prefer more physical ways of relaxation. Do you have anything to recommend in that area?”

“Do give me an example, darling, what do you do to relax that’s physical?”

“Oh, I’m afraid what I do wouldn’t be appropriate to engage in at my workplace.”

There is a definite red tinge to Larissa’s cheeks.

“What’s life without a little excitement?”

“Very boring, I suppose.”

For a couple of seconds, there is silence. You are looking at each other, both of your cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol. The tension in the air is thick and heavy.

The next thing she says takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect her to be that forward.

“Tell me, darling, did it turn you on when you heard me yesterday?”

“I—” you open and close your mouth like a fish. You can’t believe the words that just came out of her mouth — to hear her say something like that is something straight out of a wet dream, something that would only happen in your wildest fantasies. 

“I usually do it to relax — it’s a purely physical thing, but lately I have found myself thinking about you,” she continues. “Tell me, do you think of mewhen you touch yourself?”

You look her straight in the eye. “Yes, I do.”

You look at each other for a moment. Desire lingers in the air. She is first to break the silence. 

“Before this escalates any further, I want you to know that the last thing I’d want is to put you in a difficult situation or make you feel like you are obligated to do something. If you don’t want this, just say the word and we shall never mention it again.” 

She pauses. She seems nervous — you’ve never seen her nervous before.

“And please know that whatever you decide, it will not affect your thesis in any way. I would hate for you to be under the impression that this is transactional. I am genuinely interested in pursuing something beyond friendship with you, but I am ready to put that aside and prioritise our professional relationship if that is what you want.”

Your heart breaks as you decide to do the right thing.

“Maybe we should wait until I finish my thesis, and then… continue with this,” you say. “As much as I’d like to, it really wouldn’t be professional of us.”

“Of course. That would probably be best.”

She moves her leg under the table so that it’s no longer touching yours —- you can’t help but feel disappointed. There is a moment of awkward silence. She clears her throat. “We should probably go then, not let this escalate any further.”

“Yes,” you agree. “Let’s go.”

The walk to campus is silent and awkward. 

“It’s rather late,” you say. “I do hope buses still drive. The night lines are scarce in this part of town.”

“Oh, I can drive you home, if you want,” she says quickly. “I didn’t offer because I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I mean, if you want to. We will have to spend time a lot of time together until I finish my thesis, we might as well practice not being awkward around each other. Not that I wasn’t awkward before,” you say, attempting to lighten the mood. “You always made me nervous.”

She chuckles and the air seems less heavy. “I didn’t know I was so scary.”

“You’re not,” you say, but you don’t elaborate further (what you want to say is you look like a movie star, you are intelligent and absolutely brilliant and I am nervous because I have a huge crush on you — but that would be inappropriate given the circumstances).

The drive to your apartment is silent. The tension that built in the bar didn’t dissipate into thin air when you decided not to act on it — instead it intensified — it lingers around, hot and heavy, clouding your judgement, making you sweat even though it’s a chilly night.

She parks in a free spot just in front of your apartment building.

“I’m sorry, I acted very unprofessionally,” she starts. “As your mentor, I should have ignored your advances, but instead I flirted with you and encouraged you.”

Her red lips move in the most delicious way as she speaks, and you find yourself staring again. You remember the sound of her moans. It’s difficult to think about anything else.

“I feel terribly ashamed. I promise I will maintain a strictly professional demeanour from now o—”

You pull her into a bruising kiss. She squeaks (you find that adorable).

Pushing you away, she tries to be reasonable. “We shouldn’t,” she says.

“What’s life without a little excitement? What a novel without the protagonist disregarding propriety and pushing the plot forward?”

“I—”

“Please, Larissa, I believe you when you say my thesis won’t be affected. We are both adults. We want this. Tell me, do you want me?”

She looks at you. Desire dances in her eyes.

“Yes.”

That is all you need. 

You kiss her again, then climb over to her seat, somehow managing to straddle her lap. She abruptly pushes the car seat backwards to give you more room — you gasp in surprise and she swallows your gasp with a hungry kiss.

The way she kisses you is passionate, ravenous, desperate. You grind against each other, your hands are everywhere, and her skirt is already bunched up around her hips (the sight of her soft, white thighs in garters drives you crazy). It’s hot, it’s dirty, and it’s not something you thought a put together woman like herself would ever be caught dead doing.

“I never imagined you’d enjoy a dirty car fuck, Larissa,” you whisper into her ear as she kisses your neck. She bites it and you gasp. 

“And I never imagined you’d be such a naughty slut, grinding your pussy against my thigh, but here we are.” 

She makes even something that cheap and filthy sound delicious. It shouldn’t turn you on so much, but it does.

“Say that again,” you breathe out, continuing to grind against her thigh.

“You like it when mommy calls you a dirty slut, hm?” 

She grabs your hair with one hand and slides the other one down into your trousers, feeling your drenched underwear. 

“Mmm, fuck,” is the only thing you can say.

“So wet and needy for me already, darling?” she coos at you. “Tell me, did you imagine me doing this to you as you touch yourself, hm? Fucking you with my fingers, fast and hard, like a common whore?”

She slides her hand inside your underwear and pushes a finger into you, then, when she feels how wet you are, two. You whimper. She curls them and you cry out. “Say I’m mommy’s little whore. I want to hear it.”

“I— I’m mommy’s little whore, fuck—”

She starts fucking you, fast and hard, and there are no coherent thoughts left in your mind. She is grunting and groaning with you — it make you delirious with desire. You want to make her moan like she did last night.

You somehow manage to pull yourself together enough to bury your own hand between her soft thighs and feel her wetness. She moans as you circle her clit and her fingers lose their rhythm for a second, which allows you to put together a coherent sentence.

“Like that, mommy?” you breathe out. “Did you imagine this when you touched yourself yesterday?”

“Yes,” she whines, “please, don’t stop.”

You have no intention of stopping. You continue to circle her clit even as she starts to fuck you harder. Her moans are obscene and loud and for a second you remember that any passerby could see you, and probably hear you, but you don’t care. If anything, that turns you on even more.

What sends you over the edge is her orgasm. Her body tenses up, her moans become hoarser and strangled, and a combination of swearwords and moans mixed with your name leave her lips as she tips over the edge of ecstasy. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever witnessed. She tries to fuck you through her own orgasm, but she doesn’t manage to keep the relentless, steady pace she had set before. It doesn’t matter — you grind on her hand and cry out as you ride out intense waves of pleasure that make your limbs tingle.

She gently pulls her fingers out of you. You stay still for a while, wrapped around each other, breathing heavily, your faces buried in each other’s necks. 

“Fuck, that was hot,” you say after a while.

She nods against your shoulder. “It was.”

“Wanna do that again sometime… mommy?” you pull away, looking at her with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“If you call me that any time we aren’t fucking, I will end you.”

You laugh, and after a second she laughs as well. 

She is so pretty when she smiles — you love how those little lines around her eyes become more prominent.

“I should probably go, though. We are in the middle of the street and it’s like, 3am,” you say.

“Yes, you probably should.”

Before you go exit the car, you kiss goodnight. It’s the sweet and soft — it makes your heart flutter.

“Good night, darling,” she whispers as you get out of the car.

“Good night, Larissa,” you whisper as you watch her drive away.

As you brush your teeth, take a quick shower and get cozy in your bed, the only thing you can think about is Larissa. When you fall asleep, you dream of her sweet kisses. 

When you wake up in the morning, you feel well-rested for the first time in weeks.

[kipperlillyforpresident]

Okay so number one. Super cool that you wrote your paper on the American dream. Single-handedly it is my favorite antag from any season.

And two. Well it is true the back to back filming probably definitely made them have less nuance for this. I absolutely agree with your statement. If your players can't engage in a story something is probably wrong. Honestly I've just come to the conclusion that the reason that episode 19 felt so weird. Is because it felt more like it was the intrepid heroes killing the rat grinders. Instead of the bad kids killing the rat grinders. Like I don't know if I'm just going crazy here?? I know it happens where your characters blend together so much in your mind That it's hard to differentiate the character from the player. But things felt so mean spirited in like a unique way. Like a unique way that you can only get from hating a villain as the viewer. Instead of like the character. Because besides Kristen trying to see if Buddy was still in there. It felt as if, the bad kids. Who have notoriously all been put into difficult situations at different times because of various adults. Saw what is basically just them without the support system. And hit it with a nuke. It's not like a Johnny spells type thing where You can be like "this guy sucks. kill his ass." Cause besides Kipper Lily. We don't actually know any of the rat grinders motivations. Like people can say that the rat grinders were just power hungry All they want. But the more likely answer is probably, Porter saw a group of vulnerable children who were actively unsatisfied with the situation they had been put in. And prayed on that!

It's frustrating definitely. But there is always fix it fics. And these final episodes aren't going to stop me from loving the rat grinders. I do not care what anyone in the fandom says. Because half of the time they're just spitting the same misogynistic bullshit we got with saccharina frostwhip. I'm genuinely hoping That at least the adventuring party clears up some things??. But my hopes are low unfortunately. Mary Ann forever though. She got that dog in her

a) IT WAS REALLY COOL!! i also wrote a final paper in a different class about the cubbys . Communications is kind of fake as hell as a major (if youre thinking of becoming a comm major dont </3 its great for student athletes who dont need jobs. as for me. um. well. 1 year out of college no new job), but it meant I was able to write a lot of interesting papers and my professors gave me room to run with it.

b) That's a really interesting thesis, and I haven't thought about it before, but that honestly makes a lot of sense...? Like, in that Really Uncomfortable Speech that was given before Ruben died, he was blamed for wasting a season on him. Which is an extremely meta/IH thing. It makes no sense for Fig to say that. But it does make sense for Emily to say that.

[catboybiologist]

Random actual vent that is probably more venty than my usual random little things, but occasionally I have to step back and think how asinine the salary system for PhD students can sound to people outside of academia. I really just want to like... lay it on the table, because it really is fucking dumb and I occasionally want validation that its fucking dumb.

Note that this is all coming from a traditional lab sciences, in the US perspective. Also, I'm really fucking ADHD and have a really, really shitty brain for bureacracy, so this is a rant and isn't really intended to be informative and might be wrong in places, its just me word vomiting.

Let's start with something straight off the bat- grad school isn't really school. It's work that creates value for the university, and you happen to take one or two courses on the side that the university has determined will make you better at that work (your mileage may vary). It's an entry level job, essentially. You create value for the university in one of two ways- you either contribute to research that gets them grant money, or you teach undergrads that pay tuition. We'll get back to how that affects you later, but first lets talk about something else: what the university claims they pay you vs what you actually get paid.

On paper, my income is approximately 3 times as much as my actual, take home income. There's two reasons for this. The first is that I am technically charged tuition by the central university, which is then immediately paid off by the source of my income. In official job titles, that's technically included in what you're getting paid, although most universities don't even bother advertising that. The other confounding factor is that you're literally always considered part time. The exact % time varies depending on your exact schedule, and of course your university, but its actually weirdly consistent even between universities. Technically, the work you do on your thesis isn't "work", and the university doesn't technically pay you to do it. Even though the work you do on your thesis literally generates revenue for the university in the form of grant overhead. But we'll get to that. If you're a researcher for a given appointment term, you're expected to also do research activities that are unconnected to your thesis- which is ridiculous, because there's no lab in existence where the work isn't all interconnected in some way.

Half time appointments are common, but lots of different percentages exist.

So, if you ever see a figure that says that a grad student position is paid at about $80k a year, that's whats going on. The highest take-home income I have EVER heard of in the US for PhD students is $54k, at Stanford neuroscience. I think its a bit higher now, but that at least gets you a ballpark. Most STEM PhD students on the high cost of living coasts are paid 30-40k ish, and in cheaper areas you can expect to take 5k off of that. These are for degrees that usually make six figures on the job market.

And then there's the other convoluted problem- the source of the funding. This is where the academia salary model really has a unique brand.

Basically, when you're a PhD student, you're not working one job for the full 5-7 years. You're constantly flipping between job titles within the university, and who exactly is paying you changes as a result.

The most basic distinction is researcher vs teaching assistant. TA is easy- you work "part time" (but oh my god those workloads are not part time sometimes [although the class I'm TAing now is very chill so its w/e][fuck you molecular genetics at my master's uni tho]), and the department you're teaching for pays for your tuition and your salary as a result.

Researcher is a bit weirder. Basically, each lab is conducted as its own independent financial unit, managed by a Principle Investigator (PI, or to any grad student, the professor/boss/research advisor/liege/monarch/authority of the lab). The PI is constantly writing lab wide grants to supply the core funding of the lab, including the salary of the grad students. Grants can be pretty general, but there are also very specific ones that check in how the money is being spent. These include training grants/fellowships/tbh the name is arbitrary for a lot of these. Those are grants that are written to supply the salary of a specific grad student.

Couple things to note- the university charges the PI in a lot of ways on this. Notably:

They charge tuition on every grad student, as mentioned previously, which under a researcher appointment is paid from the PI to the university.

They charge overhead on grants- basically, they take money out of every grant the PI gets.

If the previous two sources aren't enough, oftentimes universities will pay rent on the amount of building space a lab takes up (although this is very inconsistent between universities)

Researcher appointments are considered favorable to teaching appointments, because they mean you can spend more of your time on your thesis. But, its dependent on whether your PI has the funding to pay you all that, which is a big if. So, every quarter or semester or year or however much your university decides to renegotiate it, you essentially switch jobs, in a way. Obviously its a lot more simple and streamlined than actually switching jobs, but your title, responsibility, source of income, and sometimes your actual pay changes constantly.

And to anyone who has been through a PhD, you're nodding along like this is all the basic stuff, because all this is so NORMAL. Like this is all the normal system, and this is the bare basics of it as well. And it's weird that it's normal, right? Like, most of my career has been tied to academia, so I don't have a fantastic benchmark for this, but this isn't how it works outside of academia like... at all.

Over the course of late last year and bleeding into this year, multiple graduate student unions have had strikes or negotiations regarding pay scale, but its been a very difficult situation for the average grad student to untangle because of how weird the source of pay is. Because technically, even though you functionally work a single, salaried job with slightly changing obligations, what's happening behind the scenes is that you're essentially hopping between jobs every couple of months. In an ideal system, those jobs always have the same pay, but that's increasingly becoming not the case. Sometimes that means getting paid more overall, sometimes slightly less. Union negotiations have made this pay slightly higher overall, but its still a mess of a system.

And obviously, there's paperwork associated with so many of these steps.

So in my last post, when I said "getting a grant", that was what I was referring to- applying for training grants that will guarantee that I don't have to teach extra or get extra money from my PI for the time I'm here. I'd love to get more teaching experience, but ofc I want to do it when I want to, not when I have to. I'm applying for multiple training grants over the next couple of months that will hopefully fund my salary specifically, and hopefully I'll get at least one of them. And tbh, I don't even care that much about teaching, I more want them because it'll dramatically simplify all this for me.

I love what I do to death, but untangling this shit is what gives me imposter syndrome more than anything. I think my arrogant streak shows when I can genuinely say that I've never felt imposter syndrome based on my scientific knowledge. I have felt it over two things- my motivation/productivity (which is a different rant entirely), and the fact that I am really, really bad at untangling the level of bureaucracy required to just... exist here. Just give me my fucking paycheck and let me do my science, and tell me when you want me to teach.

[heartkyeom]

grad student!seokmin headcanon

word count: 742

notes: hi, long time no see! I don’t know what this is tbh, my writing has been quite stalled lately but this has been sitting in my drafts so I figured I would finish and post it, I hope you like it. happy new year and I hope you’re taking care of yourself 💗 also sorry for the duplicate line under the read more!! tumblr hates me so it won’t let me fix it

taglist: @weakforsvt @junhui-recs @rasparagus @just-here-to-read-01 @baekhyunstruly

grad student!seokmin walks you home after your shared lecture that always runs late. He always grumbled that your professor should be aware of the time, and you always agree wholeheartedly. You insist that you can walk by yourself, but he doesn’t mind, and you secretly enjoy his company. You both keep each other accountable for thesis deadlines and you’re definitely the closest to each other out of your cohort. Even when you cry on his shoulder about your research feeling unorganized or meaningless, he’s making sure you remember why the work you do is important. In return, you text him not to stay up until 5 am writing like usual. After you both finish your final presentations on the final day of the semester, he walks you home one last time.

“But still, thank you, I really appreciate it,” You smile at him, but you’re not sure you can capture the gravity of your feelings.

“But still, thank you, I really appreciate it,” You smile at him, but you’re not sure you can capture the gravity of your feelings.

The silence is quite intense, you’ve never been this awkward around him before. Both of you are typically able to keep conversation better than this, but you internally grasp for anything that could make him stay a bit longer.

“It’ll be weird not seeing you every few days,” You admit. He turns his head away for a moment, looking slightly reminiscent of the past few months already.

“Same, I’m gonna miss it. We can still hang out though!” He exclaims sweetly.

You knew it wouldn’t be the same, though. You could spend time with him anywhere, but these night walks were a different kind of intimacy that you didn’t think you could replicate with anyone else.

You were already used to the way he laughed slightly too loud at all your jokes, the way he smiled so bright that it reached his eyes, and the way he always waited for you to enter your building before walking away.

His kindness had all built up to feelings that were more than platonic. Now, it was just a matter of if you could confess to him or not.

“Of course, but I have to be honest,” You clear your throat and he stiffens slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll miss you because I like you,” You sigh too loud at your own words before continuing, “and letting the semester end without saying anything would make me realize how much I like you. Then, I’d have to wait even longer to tell you.”

He blinks at you, but you notice he’s blushing. You’ve fucked it up, you don’t know why you couldn’t have just bit back your crush like most people could.

Yet, you knew you’d regret it if you didn’t tell him. You prepare for the worst as you watch him approach you, your faces only a few inches apart. He holds your hands in his own.

“I like you too, I just wasn’t sure how to say it yet,” He almost mumbles as he looks down at your hands.

“But, I’m glad you found the courage to tell me,” He finally makes eye contact with you and your heart could nearly burst from how sweet he looks.

“You’re cute,” you giggle. He brings his face closer to yours and it makes you laugh even harder.

“Kiss me and I’ll be even cuter,” He replies. You take the command and connect your lips to his, you can barely comprehend how good it feels. You feel his hands on your face and it draws you into his orbit even further.

You’re almost gasping for air by the time you pull away from him.

Silence lingers between the two of you, and you decide in that moment that you can’t let him get away, not this time.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” You ask quietly, your heart is in your throat but you can’t help but press your luck one last time.

He turns his head away from you for a moment, but you can see the brilliant smile that spreads across his cheeks.

He faces you again and you can hear his excitement before he speaks a single word.

“I would love to.”

[pendraegon]

should i go to grad school?

joke answer: no

actual answer: i would say it depends! what is it that you want to do? is the job or position you want necessitate a masters or even a phd? are you interested in a masters? a phd? why? do you want to go into grad school because you like researching or because you want to be a professor bc those are two VERY different things. i would say if you are still in undergrad and are debating this — talk to your advisor, to professors, and to grad students around you! see if you can audit a graduate level course for a semester so you can see and have a feel for what is expected at a graduate level especially if you haven't had experience with writing a thesis. you can also audit a graduate level course even if you are not part of a university by emailing both the professor of a course you're interested in and academic services to see what amount you have to pay for the class and what not (i actually did this route at first! i took a graduate level course with a university online just to see if i would enjoy graduate level classes as it had been a long time since i had been in undergrad and i had no prior experience with graduate level work before applying to grad school). do you like research? do you know how to code — or rather, do you not mind coding because i am telling you right now you WILL have to code in grad school whether you like it or not (and in my experience, they will not teach you how to code, it's more of a "teach yourself" kinda moment if you don't know R or SPSS or Python or whatever program your department/field uses). i would say the more people you talk to the better and most important, talk to people WITHIN that department you're interested in. a big part of grad school that lots of people overlook (besides the whole lack of school/life/work balance and how much you will want to die) is that your grad school experience and your thesis/dissertation ultimately rests A LOT on your relationship with your advisor and whether or not your advisor is a good fit for YOU and YOU RESEARCH/INTERESTS!!! that's probably the biggest thing you should factor in if you're genuinely interested into grad school — whether or not the program you are interested in actually has professionals working there who are [1] interested in adjacent fields to your research or your research specifically and [2] are interested in what YOU have to offer as well and will actually give proper and timely feedback and care about your success. before you apply to grad schools, it's a good idea to send out emails to professors that you would like to work with.

also. if ur in the states, you WILL have to take the gre. know if you have to take only the general or a specific vers of the gre or both — and the test is NAWT cheap (nor are the applications TO grad school itself). make sure you keep in mind the financial costs of grad school as well as the fact that master students in the states do NOT get stipends.

[megabuild]

what is aoyuer? is that an acronym for something?

okay so i meant to make a big doc explaining what aoyuer is like months ago but then i started working on different projects and put it on the back burner.. and then i got ill and now i don't have much time to work on stuff at all. but not having the doc sucks and means anything i ever say about it is very confusing. so i'm so sorry anon for using your ask as an excuse to just dump as much aoyuer lore as i can without reasonably spoiling it but also thanks for reminding me that i have a lot of followers here who have never heard of it. a sobering thought

tldr; aoyuer (as of yet untitled empires rewrite) (sorry bree) is my au rewrite of empires smp that aims to connect seasons 1 and 2 as well as after life, new life, and a bunch more inbetween, with a major focus on pixlriffs' story. it also ties up a lot of loose ends and is generally darker and more adult-aimed than the original series. technically that's all you need to know but here's the no spoilers plot rundown for those interested

so aoyuer is built up of ~7 arcs but only 4 of them are like Super important

arc 0: this is just afterlife smp and a ton of early worldbuilding, the crash of the great stags, etc; what's most important from this is that oli exists and has for thousands of years, probably

arc 1: empires season 1! set in the 1500s, the world is going through a sort of renaissance period with massive technological advancements. pixlriffs the copper king (cprk) is working a boring little library job and spending most of his time kicking himself and being mad he hasn't done anything with his life (he is only like 30 but the idea of feeling old and unaccomplished even when you're young is a major theme for arc 1). enter fwhip! who is his annoying ex-roommate ex-bestie ex-boyfriend from university that left him on pretty bad terms. he has a way more accomplished job and as part of that he has been allowed to head The Empires Project which is a major journey intended to further some distant colonies while also investigating the land they're on. the land has some weiiird properties which fwhip thinks could be harnessed to create functional immortality (which was the subject of pix's thesis). he wants pix to come with him and investigate. pix feels weird about it but agrees to come along and be the "emperor" for the desert colony while he does his research... and then things get fucked up and scary! its a high fantasy that switches between a metaphorical dissection of their horrid will they won't they relationship and both of their issues aaand a more Literal dissection of the land and things living in it. including people and animals. at times. and also involves pix accidentally awakening a curse for a billion million years which sets the rest of aoyuer in motion.

arc 1.5 is sort of Not important but iwlike it a lot. there's not much to be said for it without major spoilers but it's set a little bit after arc 1 and comprises of fwhip being very upset about how his stupid project fell apart and trying to write up an Official Report on why everything fell apart while also coming to terms with him being the worst guy to ever have lived or something. much of aoyuer is like thinly veiled metaphors for mental illness but this one is just about mental illness

arc 2 sends us years forward into season 2 in the 1800s and our protagonist is professor pixelle riffs, lorekeeper (lrkp) who leaves his job as an archaeology lecturer to go and study the ancient capital and The Machiiine. because the machine set up WAY too much cool stuff to just ignore. sculk infection/possession is a big part of this arc. however while he's doing all this he meets oli! remember him? who has crash landed in S2 (basically the same way he did in canon) and is now regularly butting heads with pix. they eventually become friends and then umm something more :3 a lot of this remains the same as canon except the sculk arc gets a proper conclusion and ties into the ghost stuff. it ends with oli's finale where he still fakes his death (the goblin stuff is going to be changed but it's up in the air right now) and pix is devastated but pretty certain there's something not quite right so he picks greggory up and goes off in search of his lame ass boyfriend.

arc 2.5 actually takes place mid arc 2 because it's the hermpires crossover, which is less different dimensions and more different times (hermitcraft is our present and the rift facilitates time travel). when pixelle the archaeologist steps through the rift it causes serious time fuckery and so he sort of gets. forcefully ejected from his body and becomes a ghost possessing pixl riffs of the hermitcraft recap (rcp) who stumbles out of the rift very tired and very confused! there's a lot of fun mistaken identity stuff between him and oli and this is generally the most like. comedic and casual of the arcs though it still has some sweet moments.

arc 3 is just new life smp. where pixelle finally ends up in nl, finds that his lame ass boyfriend is still alive, and has relationship drama with him Except on top of that the land that new life is set on has similar properties to the land from arc 1 (functional immortality except it has some different effects, aka. going through drastic physical changes every time you "die") and so pixelle starts investigating that and maybe finds out that his whole life and his ancestors and descendants lives might be caught up in a time loop because of the copper king. forever and ever. this hasn't got much for it because i was going to work from new life canon as a base but then both pix and oli stopped playing on it LMFOHALDH but anyway.

aaand arc 4! final arc! which is set in the present right after pixl (the recap one) returns home from the hermitpires crossover. except the weird ghost voice of his ancestor in his head.. isn't going away? or rather its been replaced by a different one who is sending him on The Heros Journey. along with zloy and lyarrah and modern fwhip. this is basically the long awaited Conclusion to the curse that the copper king put in place and a lot of bullshit happens that icant really explain but it ties up all the loose ends and is generally just pix consistently having the worst time. hes the only pix who goes through hell without bringing it upon himself like he was just born.

and um. that's aoyuer! obviously there's more for all the arcs and i am happy to answer Basically any questions even though i get a little nervous sharing stuff about it because im shy. But iwhope thag explains at least a bit for everyone. My dream is to write this all into various fanfics but that looks kinda unlikely rn but it means a lot to me and you can kinda safely assume if I'm ever talking about or drawing empires there's a 99% chance it's actually aoyuer because I forget canon exists .AOYUER WORLDWIDE

[buckets-and-trees]

💐Zombie's Bouquet Event💐

A bouquet for you! Featuring: Bucky Barnes; Rivals to Lovers; Academia; Fluff. I hope you like it!

++++++

No one said going for your PhD would be easy but whoo boy did you underestimate the toll it would take on you. Thankfully you had a supportive group of friends. Even if their definition of "support" was different from yours.

Bucky definitely had a weird definition of the word. His way of supporting you was through challenges. Whoever got the lower GRE score would buy the other dinner. Whoever ended up with the higher student evaluation scores won the only good chair in the office for the next semester.

But it's definitely helped the both of you. You and Bucky are always at the top of class, always first to be asked to help professors write articles, always on the short list for grant writing opportunities. With your thesis defense coming up quick, you've also both gotten a fair number of job offers.

The week of your group's thesis defense was brutal and, of course, you were the last to go. The only person who kept studying with you was Bucky. He'd gotten his handshake, his confirmation of acceptance. But unlike the others, he didn't let himself relax and celebrate. He made sure you ate, slept, studied. You asked him why he was so intent on helping you instead of celebrating and he gave you an incredulous look.

"We're competing for best notes from the committees," he says as if it's the most obvious thing. "I got an advantage by going early. If I want this to be a fair contest, I gotta help you be at your best."

You smile and thank him, "I just hope you haven't wasted your time."

"Time with you is never wasted, Aspen," he assures. "You bring out the best in me." The two of you look at each other fondly for a while before Bucky gets back to asking you questions for your defense.

When it's finally your turn to defend your thesis Bucky is there to support you. He promises he'll be waiting just outside so that, no matter what happens, you'll have a friend when you walk out. It's the most intense few hours of your life and when you walk out so they can deliberate, you're exhausted.

Bucky greets you with your favorite candy, a bottle of water, and a big hug. It's not much time before your thesis advisor comes out, holds out her hand and says, "congratulations, Doctor."

At the celebration for your study group you and Bucky are inseparable. The two of you even excuse yourselves early and head back to your place, Bucky promising you're going to want to keep him after he's ruined you.

Zombie! Oh, you are a ridiculously wonderful dearrrrr to send a bouquet my way! I was thrilled when I got the notification, and it just didn't stop from there!

RIVALS TO LOVERS IS HANDS DOWN ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES! But then the PhD setting? It's an idle thing that's crossed my mind, so.... ah! You just so perfectly hit the mark!

"Time with you is never wasted, Aspen," he assures. "You bring out the best in me." The two of you look at each other fondly for a while before Bucky gets back to asking you questions for your defense.

The gasp I gasped before completely melting?! I'm just... I'm not recovering any time soon for how sweet and wonderful this was! Thank you for such a gift - especially a gift of yourself and your talents!

[cowgurrrl]

yay you‘re an aries, too 💕

ugh i‘ve gotta write my term paper and i‘m sooo annoyed because i really hate one of the the authors whose work i‘m analyzing (it‘s about 16th century art literature) but i gotta do it because i‘m only two assignments away from my masters thesis and i‘m sooo exhausted ;_;

okay sorry for the rant. i was just wondering if maybeee you‘d like to write a cute lil’ drabble or hc about joel supporting a reader that’s struggling with their assignment for uni? >_<

anyhow, love you & your writing. keep up the good work & take care of yourself 💕

Congratulations on your master’s thesis!! You’re going to do amazing things! I took this in a little more of preoutbreak!Joel hc so I hope you enjoy 💓

Joel as your study buddy headcanons

Pairing: preoutbreak!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: the lovely Joel “fractions” Miller gif is by @loregifs also I am slowly working through requests!! Thank you for sending me so many fun ones! 🫶

Warnings: school stress, fluff!!

I don’t think Joel would’ve gone to college and if he did, I don’t think he would’ve finished it out because of Sarah but when he meets you while you’re in the midst of your grad courses, he’s in awe of your work ethic and determination

He likes to look over your shoulder when you're transcribing notes or reading for class

Definitely would stop by campus to have lunch with you if he had a job nearby

One time Sarah had an early release day on the same day Joel had a rural site forty five minutes away so you picked her up and had to take her to lecture with you

She loved every minute of it. She liked roaming the campus and listening to your professor, even if she didn’t fully understand what she was talking about, and asked you a million different questions about college

Will literally listen to you ramble about the newest thing you’re learning because he likes seeing you get so excited/engaged

When finals roll around, he’s not quite sure what he can do to help the blanket-covered, ink-stained, stressed heap of grad student in his living room but he’ll occasionally walk by and kiss your temple, saying praises into your skin

“You’re so smart.” “You can do this.” “D’you need anything?” “You’re gonna do great.” “I love you.”

He’d definitely be the type of guy who would cut up fruit and wordlessly leave it on the table in front of you with a glass of water

When you’re crying because of the stress, deadlines, readings, he’s always there to soothe your anxiety and offer you a break

Sometimes you two will sit and watch some mindless reality show or talk to Sarah about her day or go for a drive, pointing out the wildflowers on the side of the highway. He’ll do anything to get your mind to reset so you can come back to your studying

He’d help you run through your flashcards so you can study but not before trying to make a stripping game out of it

“Joel, I need to pass!” “That’s why it’s effective!”

When you eventually do pass all your finals, he takes you and Sarah out to dinner and tells the waiter about how smart his girlfriend is when the poor guy asks if you’re celebrating anything

Joel takes any opportunity to gush about you

When you graduate, he makes the BIGGEST DEAL

He’s the loudest person at graduation and showers you with flowers, kisses, and attention. You and Sarah just laugh at his theatrics but love him for it anyways

He would definitely splurge and buy you the nice frame for your diploma and you very quickly tell him he doesn’t have to because they’re so expensive but he just kisses you to shut you up

“I wanted to. ‘M proud of you and I want everyone to know,” he mumbles against you. “Besides, when you make me a trophy husband, it’ll balance out.”