#god rest my soul HAHAHAHA

[ohtobeleah]

I’d kill for a part two of that strictly scandalous concept where Hangman fucks Mavericks daughter. Just him realizing what he’s done.

HAHAHAHA. I loved this one. Here ya go. Just because I felt this on my bones, baby. and I know I've used the callsign Iris for a blurb once but imma use it again because it suits and I like it. :)

********************

Jakes shitting himself. Imagine it though— he’s in the locker room, zipping up his flight suit when Pete Mitchell slaps his hand down on Jake’s shoulder from behind. It scares the living shit out of him when he realises just who it is standing behind him. 

“You have a good weekend Hangman—?” Mav asked as Jake turned to face him, eyes wide like he’s just been caught red handed and balls deep him Mavericks daughter. 

“Huh?” Jakes trying to formulate a sentence to reply with, but he’s breaking out in a sweat, remembering just how fucked he knew he was when you introduced yourself a Lieutenant Mitchell. Pete Maverick Mitchell’s daughter. “Uh, sorry repeat the question sir?” 

“I asked if you had a good weekend?” Pete always thought Jake was a little weird, a little overzealous and egotistical—but right this minute he could be considered a flight risk. With sweat practically dripping down his face and he looks over Pete’s shoulder to see his saving grace. Rooster. 

“Yeah, yeah nah it was average—“ If you’d call fucking his captains daughter in the back of his truck average. That was a felony around here, a career ender, an act worthy of being lined up and executed point blank. “Listen, great chatting to you, But I gotta go—“ Mav doesn’t get a chance to even register what’s going on before Jake is hightailing it over towards Bradley, dragging him around the corner of the locker room with a clenched jaw and panicked eyes. 

“Dude! What’s your problem!” Bradley’s hissing at Jake’s grip on his bicep. Being pulled away into a more discreet part of the men’s locker room. 

“I’m gonna lose my fucking job—“ Bradley Bradshaw has never seen Jake Seresin so panicked before. He’s usually in control of every situation, every aspect of his life. But this? Whatever had him spooked must have been major because Bradley could see straight into Jake's soul, and he was terrified. 

“What exactly did you do?” 

“Not a what.” Jake groaned, smashing his fist against Fanboys stupid Star Wars themes locker or whatever the hell TV show he geeked over. “More like a who—“ Bradley’s not computing what Jake is trying to tell him. Watching as Jake turns, presses his back against the lockers, and slides towards the ground in complete and utter defeat. He can kiss this promotion goodbye and he hasn’t even made it through a full day. 

“Can you be a little more specific? It’s too early to be deciphering codes.” Rooster just stands there, arms crossed as Jake lets his head rest against the flimsy doors of the lockers he’s resting up against—legs spread out. 

“IfuckedMavsdaughter—“ Jake mumbles quickly and under his breath. Bradley only just makes out what he said as his eyes are blowing out of his head in pure shock. No, no this is too perfect. 

“I’m sorry you did who?” Rooster needs to hear Jake say it clearly and as precisely as possible. “You did not!” 

“I didn’t know she was Mavs daughter Rooster! You didn’t fucking tell me who she was!” Jake was right on that front, but Bradley wasn’t in the loop, when did spilling three entire schooners of alcohol on someone equates to fucking someone. “God! Do you know what he’s gonna do to me when he finds out? He’s gonna make my life a living hell!” Jake groans as he hits the back of his head against the locker in an act of self-pity.

“You fucked Y/n Iris Mitchell, he’s gonna hang you, Hangman.” Bradley loved this probably a little more than he should have. He knew his uncle all too well and he knew how protective he was of the daughter he didn’t know he had until you showed up at his doorstep one random Saturday afternoon. “He’s gonna string you up by your big toe on the flagpole—“ 

“I should just quiet before he has a chance to—“ Jakes squinting his eyes shut tight, all he can see is you riding him like you had nothing to lose in the back of his truck. He can feel your around him still, the tightest pussy he’s ever fucked. So warm and perfect and—young. Fuck, he should have know this would have eventually. “I’m a deadman walking.”

“Does she know who you are?” Bradley’s asking as he finally takes a knee and comes to sit against the lockers with his clearly distressed wingman. “Did you tell her you’re most likely her instructor? Her Lieutenant Commander?” 

“Nope—“ Jake pops the P. “I was just gonna see how long I could go without running into her, avoid her at all costs.” 

“Yeah something tells me that’s not gonna work.” Bradley chuckles, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “But good luck man, honestly I’m rooting for you.” Rooster bumps his shoulder against Jakes as he stands. Looking down at the aviator having a clear existential crisis. “Stop sticking your dick into anything that moves at the Hard Deck—I’m honestly shocked something like this hasn’t happened sooner.” 

“Can you just promise me that if I go missing you’ll tell the cops it was Mav?” Jake is as serious as he ever has been as he looks up at Rooster. “This is partly your fault to you big flightless bird—if I had been told, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near her!” But all Bradley can do is laugh at Jake’s predicament. 

“Sure thing pal, but she told you, you could have stopped and dealt with the blue balls—but I’m guessing the night didn’t end in the truck and you're big enough and ugly enough to deal with the consequences of your own actions.” Bradley feels like this whole situation is an early birth present. He’s beaming, smug even. Of course Jake fucked Mavs daughter, of course he did!  “I’ll see you out there.” 

“You're a bad friend!” Jakes Shouting out as Bradley rounds the corner, he’s laughing as he shakes his head and exits the locker room only to run into you in the hall. Seeing an opportunity he just can’t resist passing up. 

“Iris!” Bradley cooed, grabbing your attention as he jogs up beside you from behind, slinging a shoulder around you. “How’s induction day going so far?” 

“I just came out of a lecture about weapons systems malfunctions with Lieutenant Commander Floyd.” You explained, pretty tickled pink with excitement that you were at TopGun. Not a lot of women got to experience such a feat. “He’s pretty intelligent.” 

“Bobs great—“ Bradley had known you since you were about sixteen, but you weren’t all that close for two people who’d be considered non-biological siblings. “Hey listen, I heard you left the Hard Deck with Hangman the other night.” 

“Who’s Hangman?” You asked as you stopped in your tracks. “And how do you know I left with som—“ All things considered, when Jake had told you that if Hawaiian shirts were what you were into, you should be talking to Bradley, you could have said that you saw him more like a brother than anything else. But you didn’t, you played along and said that guys with moustaches weren't your type. “Oh—no please Rooster I didn’t.” Bradley could see the look of realisation creeping across your face. You’d fucked one of your TopGun instructors, hadn't you? “No—please it’s April fools isn’t it?” 

“It’s October Iris—“ Bradley smirked, his moustache working to devour his upper lip entirely as he does. “Mavs gonna kill him—“ 

“Fuck what Mavs gonna do to him Bradshaw! I’m gonna get kicked out of Miramar if the admirals find out what I’ve done!” You're a mess, Bradley chuckles, hey maybe you and Jake had a few things in common. Your inability to cope during existential crises being one of them. “This ain’t happening! I need to talk to him, where is he?”

“He’s probably still writing his resignation on the locker room flo—“ Before Bradley can finish your sentence, he’s watching as you make a b-line directly for the locker room he’d just come out of. 

On the hunt for Lieutenant Commander Jake ‘Deadman’  Seresin.

[poraphia]

hahahaha angsty idea. Reader vigilante reveal but this time siren is furious. He starts fighting the reader— but they don’t fight back. They don’t move a single muscle as he pushes them into a wall. They sit there, and accept it

i just wanna mention i love writing for these little prompts they're like little warm ups for me hehesheehe

---

A vigilante and a supervillain.

One minute, they watched the moon rise with the stars. Their fingers near centimeters apart as they rested against the textured stone.

The next minute, screaming and loud thuds echoed through the night, yet not a single soul dared to approach the pair.

The vigilante fell back, their body sliding against the cold granite. Bits and pieces of their outfit tore from the friction. Siren stood a meter away, but his shadow engulfed them like flames. Tears stained his blindfold as he was forced into a blurry haze. His head throbbed, but it was nowhere near close to how hard his heart pounded in his chest.

"YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR, (Y/N)! A GOD DAMN LIAR." He screamed in agony. Slowly, he stepped toward the limp figure. A figure so weak they coughed out blood as their head rested against an arm.

"Get up."

With his honey voice, the vigilante was forced back onto their feet.

"Look at me."

Their head whipped up. Tears and blood trickled down their face. Their body was scratched, damaged, and bruised, but Siren, you couldn't find a single imperfection on his body.

Siren pushed them against the wall of the fire escape. The same location where they had their first encounter. The same location where (y/n) decided to take Siren's heart before shoving it in a grinder. He slammed his hands on either side of their face, digging his palms into the tiny rocks that nearly pierced his skin.

But he didn't care.

No, he couldn't care less.

Siren stood there, near breathing down the vigilante's neck, while all they could do was stand there and take it. His heaving chset was consistent with rage. An audible and visual show to his confliction. He stood there, silent for a minute. (y/n) dare refused to say anything because they knew that any word, no matter how wrong or how right it was, would ruin the man even more.

After some time gathering his own words, Siren took one deep exhale before ripping off his blindfold, revealing puffy and horribly glossy eyes. His eyes searched their face, searching for any sign to tell him to cut this shit out, but instead, it filled him more with rage and sorrow.

"I... I fucking loved you." He choked. "I loved you before we started talking. I loved you when we were running around being silly teenagers."

Siren forced both his hands back on either side of their head. "I loved you EVEN WHEN YOU WENT MISSING FOR YEARS BECAUSE I HAD SOME TYPE OF HOPE." (y/n) remained speechless and only stared back with the most pained expression on their face.

"AND TO THINK--!" Siren backed away now, running a hand through his hair as nothing but manic chuckles escaped his throat. "To think that I was finally getting over you?! That I had found someone new," He whipped his head back to face them. "THAT I CAN FINALLY HEAL, (Y/N)."

Chuckles turned into giggles, giggles turned into laughs, laughs turned to harrowing cries of pain as he crouched down onto the ground, hugging his knees.

He had fucking lost it now.

Siren's noises of distress soon died down. He stood up straight again, staring straight through the vigilante.

"I'm going to make sure you are never in my life again." He uttered softly.

"They don't call me a super villain for nothing."

(y/n) nodded, closing their eyes. If this was the relief Will wanted, and if this promised him to be happier in the future, then by all means, he could do whatever they wanted to them.

"(y/n)," His cold, icy stare pierced through their heart like an icicle. "jump o--"

"WI- SIREN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

[nellycanwrite]

His Timeless Love: a Preview

K'uk'ulkan x Reincarnator!Filipino!Reader Fic Preview

Summary: A God such as K'uk'ulkan has lived life by the hundreds, yet you wonder why he has not found his true love during his time of immortality. It might just shock you to believe that he had already loved you since the summer of 1592.

Or, in which K’uk’ulkan tells you the story of the four times he fell in love with you and the three times he saw you die.

Rating: 18+

Note: This work follows along the history of the Philippines and the influences of the colonizers throughout the years of subservience. I claim no historical accuracy to the plot but the timeline and the implications of each historical era was and is researched accordingly. As such, I am also of Filipino descent specifically from Bisaya, Ilonggo, and Ilokano backgrounds. 

This work is a connecting piece to His Queen. Both can be read separately and in any order.

"...You are hiding something from me."

As if the sea had sensed its rulers melancholy, it shifted and it hummed amongst the rocks of the royal chambers. It crashed into you like the waves of a full moon's midnight, pelting your eyes with the sting of tears. You know not of the reason for your own sadness, but you knew somewhere in your soul that it was connected to your husband's own sorrow.

He reaches up to caress your cheek, and like a subservient dog to its master, you lean in right away to the warmth of his loving hands. He traced your features, every curve, every freckle, every bump, and every line down to the very last detail. He was memorizing every inch of you. He was burning it to memory.

"It is not a tale that is to be taken lightly. It is a burden I alone must bear." 

You leaned down further until no space was left between your bodies. His breath hitched when you caressed his own cheeks, fingernails running through the planes of his chiseled face. He was a God in every way, and you worshiped every part of his divine countenance. 

"I am your wife. I am your queen. What you know, no matter how vicious of a tale, I must shoulder. It is also a burden I must bear with you."

"My queen—" you silenced him with your lips. He would have returned the gesture with fervor, but you pulled away just as quick.

"K'uk'ulkan, akong hinigugma, akoang hari," my love. My king. His body shook in response to your mother tongue. He wondered if it was your powers at play. He, the embodiment of the sea, so easily bent to the will of your prowess. It was hardly fair, he would muse. But he will do as his queen demands, "tell me. Tell me what plagues your heart."

He hesitated for a moment. Flashes of decades worth of memories invaded his sight. You sensed his plight—you always do—so you tore your eyes away from his own earthen gaze and rested your cheek against his chest where his heart thumped in speed. You tapped your fingers to the rhythm of his pulse, your breath matching his to give him a sense of comfort. That you were there to listen. 

And with a heavy sigh, he started;

"I've decided to make you queen the first time I saw you—during that fateful day you had fought off Spanish colonizers to reclaim your motherland."

"But I have not lived that long." The drumming of your fingers stopped. You felt his heart race faster. You did not look up, instead, you waited for him to continue. 

"Not the you of the present," he tangled his own hands to your hair, his fingers playing with the strands mindlessly. There was an edge to his voice now, but as soon as you found purchase to his free hand, he breathed in a centering inhale before he continued.

"...but the you of the past."

If you like what you see, make sure to comment if you want to be added to my tag list! This will be my first time doing a formal preview and tag list, so make sure to send your love if I’m doing it right HAHAHAHA

[collegetennisoriginstory]

ALLIEEEEEEEE!!!!! Just finished the update HOLY SHIT!!!!!!

[Mandatory spoiler warning here]

OMG SAM!!!!!!! MY LIL BESTIE IS HERE AGAINNNN!!! AND WE MATCHIEESSS <3 SAM MY SCRUNKLYWUNKLY ❤️🩷 YOU BET UR ASS I CHOSE THE "NO THOUGHTS HEAD EMPTY, SOUL CRUSHING HUG" OPTION!!! AHH I AM WHOLE AGAIN, SAMMYWHAMMY, MY SAMWISE, MY LIL GUY!!

I love how sam is immediately adopted as part of the cheering squad 😂 Im just imagining diego and Addie going 'one of us!! One of us!!! One of us!!!' At sam and just merges em into the group like theyve always belonged there 😭 I knew sam and diego would be instant besties!! I love G and Sam too!! Though I guess I didnt flirt enough with G to trigger any sort of jealousy between G and Sam. But its fine, Ive found that G as a platonic friend is also very sweet and I honestly kinda prefer it for my MC!! (Who will cry themself stupid when G has to leave 😔)

Speaking of jealousy, I absolutely LOVE Rayyan being sooo jealous the whole chapter lmaooo like yes bby frown those beautiful eyebrows... oh, MC is wearing someone else's last name to their first season debut???? Ohh u are seething... who is MC seeing so badly that theyre holding up the game?? Who is MC waving at?? I cant wait to introduce Sam to the team 😊 hopefully they would be able to go home unscathed <3

ALSO the tension after the match with Rayyan!!!! UGH I WANNA LIVE IN THAT SCENE FOREVER GOD ITS SO---- The restraint, the longing, the 'i want them so bad but causing a scandal by making out sloppy toppy at ur first match is probably NOT GOOD, but im this 🤏 close to risking it all'...

It's so woefully inadequate, so woefully incongruent with the way he's looking at you, that you're a whisker away from growling in frustration and stepping in to kiss him in front of the entire Cargill crowd.

THIS IS MY FAVORITE LINE OMG!!!! AND THE WAY RAYYAN JUST GRABS UR HAND AND HUGS U INSTEAD!!! I AM FERAL. LIKE ITS SO SO SO SOFT BUT ITS SUCH POOR SUBSTITUTE TO WHAT U ACTUALLY WANTED HUH RAYYAN??? ..... one of these days I might do a slowburn Rayyan route, but sadly Im a board certified thirsty hoe, so...

Btw I also chose the non heart hug option and ITS SO SOFT???? I LOVE THEM BEING SOFT??? LIKE "u only get to hug me once okay? 😤" "once per match?? 😊🥰🥺🤗" MC SO CUTE GOT RAYYAN GIGGLIN AND BEING MAD CUTE AND SHIT

AND OH DONT GET ME STARTED WITH 'THE LOCKER ROOM PART 3: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO' SCENE. I AM DEVOURING RAYYANS SOUL, I AM BITING DOWN, CHOMPING. THOSE LOCKERS HAVE SEEN SO MUCH SHIT I AM SO SORRY LOCKERS I LOVE U. I WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF LOCKER ROOM KISSES I HOPE IT GETS TO LOCKER ROOM PART 587

Anyways sorry about being unhinged at u, it is born out of love for ur incredible work, I hope the surgery goes well <3 rest up, sending u loads of love, Allie ❤️❤️

Hahahaha I LOVE your excitement omg this absolutely made my week!! Definitely read this one more than a couple times :)))

G is not really the jealous type, but there is a difference in their reaction to Sam and MC if MC has been flirting with G... though the more pronounced reaction comes from Sam if MC flirts with G in front of them.

As for Rayyan... yes. They definitely are the competitive type, both when it comes to tennis and. Well. Romance.

Glad you enjoyed some of the interactions between the ROs/characters in the update, it was a lot of fun getting to write some of these dynamics after building up to them in earlier chapters. A personal fave was writing Tobin's locker room scenes, and G/Rayyan being soft, and Sam's reunion :)

Finally, I have lots of Sam/hallmate interactions planned for the weekend, so stay tuned for that!!

Thanks so much again for the message and so glad you enjoyed the update!

[thelunarfairy]

Hey I love your posts, I was wondering why I didn't find you sooner. How did you find Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun?

Oh, I created this account in September of this year XD not long ago.

And, I can say that it was JSHK that found me. Seriously, suddenly everywhere I was on the internet there was an ad about JSHK, an ad for the anime, an ad for the manga, everywhere there was!!

This image specifically

Hahaha so I took a picture of one of these ads and I was interested in seeing it because I thought the art was beautiful, yes I hadn't read the synopsis and I didn't know anything about the story.

After two years I found the picture again XD and remembered that I wanted to watch it (yes, I had completely forgotten)

So I started with the anime, I watched one episode a day, at the time I thought it was just a cute romantic comedy, and I fell in love with Hanako's voice hahaha anyway, it seemed like something silly and fun.

Until Tsukasa appeared, my God, that boy almost drove me crazy! I watched the rest of the anime in one day just because I was extremely curious to know why Hanako killed his twin!!!

I'm very curious and I almost died trying to figure out his motivations! So I found the manga and I'm here today because I'm still crazy trying to understand what's going on!!!

And yes, I started reading the manga and left destroyed XD he broke me in ways no story has broken me before omg.

I can say that I love most of the works that are from Square Enix (Fullmetal Alchemist B, Final Fantasy, etc.) and Hanako kun would not be an exception.

Initially I liked the art style because it has this mysterious, dark feel, and it also reminded me of Soul Eater.

But what really hooked me was this boy's face

Look at him! guy of those types of smart and extremely fun characters, someone seductive and deceitful hahaha he really motivated me to watch the anime.

Anyway, Hanako managed to win me over and now I can't escape him (help me)

Hahahaha

[tim-lucy]

You're top 5 songs that gives you all the chenford feels and why? :D

Five is so hard!! I actually have four different playlists from different chenford eras. I usually make a new one every year, but I've already made two for Season 5 and we're only on episode 11 😵‍💫

Out of allll of the songs I've put on them the ones that hit most are probably:

About Love by MARINA – There were very few edits (the fandom was like 4 people 😂) at the time and then someone popped off and made this amaziiiing video and it became like THE video for me! I literally remember listening to it on a run and having a breakdown LOLOL. Now the song always makes me flashback to the early chenford days and I get emotional :')

What Am I by Why Don't We — In all honesty, I got it in my head that they would do the deed to this song lmao. It's been years and I can't picture anything else playing. It's just so soft so them!!

Crowded Heart by Samuel Jack — MY GOD. I just remember the hours leading up to 3x09 and the chaotic "I have feelings for you" promo and how BEAUTIFUL that end scene was. "I'll be wrong before I'm right." She was wrong because she actually did fall for him OOP. It's also my favorite Chenford scene ever! It was the scene where I was like...this is the ship my soul has been searching for. I'm dramatic but also it's true hahahaha

How You Get The Girl by Taylor Swift — Okay there was a promo released right before Day of Death and it had Tim being all stressed looking for Lucy and then this instagram edit was born from it and the song has reminded me of them ever since! It's one of the few that has made it onto every updated playlist 😂 Also Tim is gonna stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain and Lucy's gonna open up the door and say "are you insane?" and also he's gonna tell her "I want you for worse or for better I want you forever and ever" in this essay—

Running In Place by Chris Moreno — THIS YOUTUBE VIDEO!! "I don't want to spend the rest of my life pretending I don't love you" LIKE BRUH. Literally Season 5 Chenford in a nutshell send help!!

Thank you for asking this! It was so fun (and emotional we've come so far)!! :D

[yawnjunie]

Prologue

“I, the Great Lord, art an immortal being; the three realms may be vast, and the universe an endless expanse, but never has there ever been another to contend with for my position.” The shadow delicately reclined on the bed of molten rock, and playfully grabbed a piece of red-hot lava. “And you, a mere woman, wish to slay me with thine sword?”

Murderous intent swirled around the longsword like a raging snowstorm, as the woman that wielded it stood in the air, smirking with even greater recklessness and impudence than her opponent. “Dong Fang Qing Cang, are you afraid to challenge me?”

“Hahahaha, afraid?” Dong Fang Qing Cang let out a hearty laugh, and the scorching lava in his palm, glowing a wrathful shade of red, morphed into an illustrious longsword. The hot air quickly expanded, sending shockwaves through the fabric of the woman’s clothes.

“Chi Di, those good-for-nothings from the heavenly realm made you their God of War. You have the guts to challenge me, so you probably do have some skills.”

His eyes became crescents as he let out a soft chuckle. He stood up, his silver hair unraveling to his ankles. He took a step forward, and even the volcanoes seemed to tremble and shake in fear.

“Lucky for you, I’m terribly bored today.” Dong Fang Qing Cang lifted up his burning red sword, concealing part of his face and revealing just enough to see the gaze that could kill behind those hooded eyes. “Allow me to challenge you to a duel.”

“Lord of the Demons,” Chi Di said as her frosty sword took its position. “Underestimating the enemy is a strategist’s greatest mistake.”

Dong Fang Qing Cang’s face broke into a smile. “Only the weak make mistakes.” The light behind his blood-tinted eyes glowed faintly, and his fang-like canines seemed to emit the same fiery light with an intensity that treaded the border of insanity. “And I have no such qualms.”

The primordial Demon Lord and the “Protector of the Wastelands” Chi Di battled, causing the world to lose color and disrupting the order of day and night. Even the stars and time itself were affected. But it was also in this battle that the unbridled Demon Lord fell to the blade of Chi Di. Since then, her name and glory spread far and wide, and Dong Fang Qing Cang was dealt a blow he could not recover from. In the end, the gods and adepti came together and executed him.

The people of the demon realm were then driven to the wastelands, and have since disappeared into obscurity.

“Did Dong Fang Qing Cang die?”

“He’s an immortal being and doesn’t reincarnate. His soul will never disappear, so when the time is right, he will return.”

The orchid sitting in the dish waved its little leaves in distress. “Then when will he come back? Master… I’m afraid of death…”

“We won’t let him come back.” Si Ming lifted her brush to write another fate. “I, along with the Heavenly Emperor, the current God of War Mo Xi, the guards outside the Southern Heavenly Gate, and even the fairies that came to water you yesterday won’t ever let him return. So rest assured, you won’t die, okay sweetie?”

While she was listening to her master retell the story of ancient times, Little Orchid Lan never once thought that she would one day see the Demon Lord come back to life and return to the three realms. It was even more unthinkable that she would find herself face to face with this primordial demon lord, waving and staring blankly at him.

But never in a million years could she predict that she would one day confront the eternally youthful, omnipotent, and endlessly evil big demon guy… in his own body?

[keziahmnc]

COME AND FIND REST HERE

Hebrews 4:10-12 ESV "for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his. Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience. For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart."

Have you come to the end where you find yourself easily irritated, getting mad for no reason, or something that has no energy for everything you are doing? Well, we're on the same page.

Living in a time like this is really draining. Parang you need to strive for everything that's good to make you feel valued, worthy and loved. Seeking validations, saying yes to every responsibilities, trabaho sa umaga, trabaho sa gabi. Study here, study there, until we forget to that we need to rest. Robot ka ba? Hahaha

I came from that moment last months of April to mid of July, feeling ko full timer na ako sa dami kong ginagawa sa Church. I mean, i'm not blaiming the opportunies but i blamed myself for not taking a pause and pushing myself too much to the end of my limitations. Of course, napagod ako nang sobra. Burn out.

At ang pagod na 'yon, pakiramdam ko walang nakakakita. Kasi naman, admit it or not there's still part of ourselves that's seeking "good job" after a long tiring work. Kahit na hindi naman natin ginagawa para sa kanila, sometimes, "tap" and appreciation lang ang kailangan ng tao para lumakas.

I choose not to serve, kahit sobrang daming opportunities. Ang daming event noong mga buwan na 'yon, but i choose not to kasi pakiramdam ko, i am not worthy enough to stand and serve again. But when did i become worthy tho?

And I come to a realization na, pagod na pagod pala ako. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. And it reflects to my character, behavior, and heart. Dumating ako sa puntong, lahat kinagagalitan ko. Pakiramdam ko tama ako kasi 'ito' ang nakikita ko. My bad habits produces bad living.

I fall from sins - unforgiveness, self-righteousness, pride, anger, and gossips. At pakiramdam ko, i am strong enough to handle those, kasi "ako na 'to eh" without even realizing na dahil sa pagod ko, naging mali ang puso at karakter ko.

That's it. Minsan akala natin, God's punishing us kasi nag kasala tayo i mean yes He can actually do that if gusto Niya but because of Jesus Christ - He paid everything. He died on the Cross and provided it so that we can cross. Pero ang totoo, kaya tayo nahihirapan because we don't rest. We're too focused on the work that we forget to rest on His finished work.

The scriptures says "for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his." See? Resting is actually part of God's will in our life. Hindi naman kasi pwedeng trabaho lang tayo ng trabaho dahil mauubos tayo. Even God rested in His seven days of work in the Beginning. So, sino ka para hindi mag pahinga hahahaha kimi.

But how can we enter to His rest?

1. Strive - ito 'yung pinaka magandang gawain. That we need to be desperate to enter in His presence. Dahil may kapahingahan sa presensya ng Panginoon. And by that, we will not fall by the same sort of disobedience. Dahil kapag may pahinga ang puso't kaluluwa natin, character aligns.

2. Seek His Word - For the word of God is living and active. At kung may pinang hahawakan tayong salita Niya, we will not fall. Because we knew, His words are sharper than any two-edge sword.

Seeking His word requires time and sacrifice. You need to do your devotional, read your Bible, spend time in worship and in prayer. Because, revival built in sacrifice.

At kung talagang gusto mo nang kapahingahan, surrender it to the Lord. Dahil kahit anong strive and seek mo, if you do not surrender, everything is nonsense. I know it takes a lot of humility and courage to do that pero if we really desire the presence of the Lord to come, surrender and let go then rest will follow.

Hindi madali but, one step at a time. And i am writing this because i came from that too. Take your time but don't waste it. Don't dwell on it. Remember, your identity is not define by your tiredness and work - it's on Jesus when He finished the work on the Cross. We just need to accept it and live by Him, once again.

[lee-minhoe]

mel my love hi !!! it´s been a bit so sorry for taking so long to answer uni has been high key killing me ahdsjk. hope you´ve been well though !! sending you all the good vibes and hugs ! <3

'it didnt help that he was also in a sleeveless shirt for part of it and with the bw cap, thats one of my many weaknesses' SAME SAME LITERALLY ME.

and i know !!!! min with cats is truly one of the most healing things :(

and yes i did! watching that truly was an experience! i remember watching and seeing lix and min get eliminated and my heart just broke for them tbh my god. and the lix and chan part !!!!!!! forever crushes my soul. (also i tried to watch that video but literally had to pause after five seconds because i couldnt handle it ahfdjskg)

aaaaah dance teacher minho my beloved '(as if all the genres of lino arent my fav!!)' adshjf same again !! you truly truly get it mel <3. there's just something so soft about it! :(

and im glad to hear you've had fun getting into them ! 'felt like i was going insane when i first got into skz because their music is SO GOOD i was listening to it 24/7 and constantly had random parts of songs stuck in my head throughout the day LOL' ahjdskf valid !! was there a certain song/album that made you really get into them? or !! wait was case 143 your first comeback then? (i have no sense of time sorry asdkf) how'd you like the album? any faves? (i feel like you're going to say taste but besides that one agfdjkg)

and lix and jeongin !! i'll keep that in mind *eyes emoji*

also !!! omg you saw them at kcon how fun!!! idk who else was there but i hope you had a great time <3

and mark !! i actually love nct as well and mark is so beloved to me !! totally get you ! any other groups beside nct and skz you're into? i like a lot of groups so i'd love to know feel free to share !

also i may or may not have checked out all the fancam recs and !!!! A++++++ truly tyvm <3. like i said i never really watch them but this was so fun ! also because he's so silly before the song starts and then gets all serious when they perform and the contrast is just so hilarious like i was crying laughing at the domino one. man is just grabbing butts left and right ahjkhjdshfjk. but also all of the fits are so good my god. he truly is the prettiest *sigh*

anyways, i feel like this has gotten too long im so sorry !! wishing you a lovely day/night beloved !

-🌻 

santaa ur back i missed you!!

i remember the struggles of my uni days so i totally get it 😭 is it finals season right now? you got this <3 fighting!!

as for which album got me into skz, i remember i listened to the whole noeasy album straight through and i was like wow this album was literally no skips for me, maybe i gotta learn more about them?? and now the rest is history hahahaha. i also just really love a lot of their title tracks especially the ones like all in, miroh, and gods menu that are so hype (i had the DDU DDU DDU DDU DDU DDU part stuck in my head a lot when i was listening to skz music nonstop 😂 love that part). it's funny because i remember i tried listening to some skz music when i got into kpop in 2020, and i was like idk if this is for me....and now almost 3 years later i'm like THIS IS MY TYPE OF MUSIC LOL i love the noise music <3

case143 was kiiind of my first cb?? but not really in the sense that i wasn't anticipating it, since i was just learning about them when the album dropped (i fully got into skz like a few days before lino's birthday 😂 so that was good timing i guess since he ended up being my bias (and dare i say now...one of my ults....👀))

also LOL THE WAY YOU CORRECTLY GUESSED that my fav track on the maxident album is taste....ok but hear me out, besides the fact that lino is in it and the choreo is....the choreo (lol), i also love lino's falsetto in it (the "don't make me bad i'm addicted to you" asdjfhak i want to hear him sing more!! i think he has such a sweet voice 🥺) and the way that the song slowly builds up and then drops at the chorus with the beat! give me your tmi is my 2nd fav track on the album i think though

MAAAARK IS MY BELOVED I LOVE HIM :(((( i started off in kpop as an nct fan, and i have been slowly collecting more groups and i'm becoming a multi mess hahaha. besides nct and skz, i also like txt (soobin is my bias but i love all of the boys a lot <33 it was so hard to pick a bias); nine.i (a rookie group i discovered recently whose music IS SO GOOD??? one of their members produces the songs too i think and i highly recommend listening if you haven't heard of them - young boy and wasted youth are my favs but their whole discography is no skips for me); day6, p1h, svt, enhypen (in varying degrees of familiarity lol), and i also like kbands like xdh, nflying, the rose (i mostly listen to their songs and dont really know all their names but ONE DAY!). i'm mainly a bg stan, i dont have anything against ggs but i usually listen to their music and dont know their names lol (currently obsessed with stayc's songs). what groups do you like? :D

also im glad you enjoyed the lino fancams LOL (no shame here, i am the one who listed 12724 fancams after all jsahdfka) i love how he is so silly on stage and seems to truly enjoy it!! i always laugh at the thunderous fancams where his hand slowly slides down to changbins butt hahahaha. also i discovered this gods menu lino fancam today which i must share because it is insane and he went so hard especially in the chorus, i love how he really commits to all the moves and has so much power yet control in them. and yes, all his fits are amazing ugh he is sososo gorgeous

this also got really long so dont worry about it haha it just means we're having a good convo :)) hope you have a lovely day/night as well <33

[wincore]

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff 

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of. 

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low. 

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours. 

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget. 

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore. 

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume. 

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type. 

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises.  If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts. 

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself. 

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask. 

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it. 

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it. 

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.  

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily. 

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year. 

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately. 

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one. 

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt. 

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover. 

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours. 

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth. 

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words. 

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.  

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table. 

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad. 

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back. 

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing. 

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters. 

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs. 

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.” 

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,�� you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can. 

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off. 

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating. 

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know. 

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young. 

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.” 

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling. 

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung. 

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses. 

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention. 

Inviting him somewhere. 

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure. 

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more. 

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter? 

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.  

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him. 

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.” 

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.” 

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.” 

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts. 

You’re disappointing. 

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose. 

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps. 

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask. 

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you. 

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue. 

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.” 

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you. 

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families. 

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe. 

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard. 

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them. 

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out. 

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure. 

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up. 

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt. 

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart. 

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it. 

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him. 

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak. 

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.  

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time. 

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional. 

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love. 

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved. 

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding. 

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either. 

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next  meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple. 

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action. 

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t. 

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days. 

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.” 

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by. 

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers. 

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever. 

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout. 

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!” 

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?” 

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this. 

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose. 

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond. 

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—” 

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder. 

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him. 

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too. 

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again. 

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling. 

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you. 

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care. 

 “Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there. 

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally. 

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer. 

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand. 

[exauhstedsunflower]

Ok so, I saw six on Broadway

First three thoughts in order, and I will never forget this:

“They’re taller than I thought they’d be”

“Holy shit those costumes are shiny”

“THEY SOUND EVEN BETTER IN PERSON”

-

Now here is a word vomit in the form of a list!

• first of all we have Jane Seymour all wrong Bc abbey muellers version of Jane Seymour has keeping it all together by a thread and then twerks at the club vibes

Also I knew abbey mueller was attractive but I didn’t know that I was attracted to her until today and the gay panic that her squatting in get down caused will affect me for the rest of my life

I started crying immediately when the show began

Ex wives is so good and the HARMONIES (they’re amazing all the way though but the build up and life altering feeling of LLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE almost killed me on the spot

It’s no secret that Aragon and parr are my favs but you know that part where Aragon is like “I hit that high c so donde esta my crown por favor” ??? She’s right she should win specifically Bc of that fucking note oh my god oh my god oh my god

Adrianna Hicks kept looking at me and laughing Bc I really was just acting like my soul was being extracted from my body the whole time and you know what it was a very religious feeling my religion is Adrianna hicks’ voice thank you

Maria on the drums is fantastic and that drum solo needs more hype petition to make that longer

I’ve made a post about Adrianna hicks having great characterization and her facial expressions and mannerisms comedic timing being fantastic and I stand by it even more now that woman is so talented and she does a great job. Aragon has such a personality with her I love it

She also sounds even better in person and has great control of her voice

She makes Aragon so DRAMATIC like she’s already dramatic but like she’s VERY dramatic to the point that the other queens are like 🙄 here we go

Andrea’s Boleyn is so good her voice is so good and her delivery is so good she is so good

I like the way she delivers literally everything she says it’s perfect 10000000000/10

“IM NOT SORRY” “just saying hi 😊😉” “oH mY GoD ThReE MIstReSsEs. g e t o v e r i t .” “JANE CHILL OUT! It’s not her fault that no one remembers her Bland and Uneventful Life…” “yea there WAS that one time where I had a daughter and then he cut my head off…” “HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA………. what?”

Ok back to Abbey for a sec y’all Bc if we’re talking line delivery, “it’s funny because when I wanted to hold mY NEW BORN SON,,, I!!! DIED!!!!!” AND THEN SHE PHYSICALLY CALMS HERSELF DOWN, LOOKS AT THE CROWD AND GOES “sorry about that😊✨”

Adrianna’s FACE AFTER THAT SHES LIKE WOAH WOAH OK SORRY PLEASE WHAT THE FUCK CLEARLY I STRUCK A NERVE

“EVERYONE NOTICES JANE CANT DANCE!1!2!1!!!” *extremely offended* “UUUUUUUHHHHHMMMMM????”

Anne and Aragon calling each other babes ✨💕

Haus of Holbein is so good it’s a masterpiece

So funny

Jane Seymour IS the pun queen and like I found it funny and the queens were consistently like telling the audience not to laugh they were like this is not funny n o .

But then she was like hahahaha and then she would turn around and see the others are not laughing and be like oh, ok. :( Well I thought it was funny anyway. :)

Abbey mueller is the kind of person to squat Bc it feels nice and I will be extending that trait to my headcanons for Jane.

Anna!!!!!!!!! Brittany Mack !!!!!!! Amazing

She’s so funny!!

“It was just 😭😭😭…….. tragic 😉”

Opera voice made my soul ascend for a sec

The way that she interacts with the crowd is so good and makes me so genuinely excited

I FORGOT IN NO WAY WHEN THEY SING LIKE A CHIOR BITCH I AM DECEASED THATS ONE OF THE TIMES A CAST MEMBER LOOKED AT ME AND LAUGHed

Brit was having so much fun and the band was also having so much fun and the audience was having so much fun that shit was such a party

“Henry?” “Nope haha” “Nuh uh” “you can’t. Stop. Me! because I’m the queen of the castle GET DOWN YOU DIRTY RASCAL get down!!!!” THE DELIVERY! The comedy!!! She’s beautiful!!!! I’m dying her voice is so strong and amazing. And everyone was partying and I was vibing so hard

Again I will mention abbey mueller squatting during get down Bc it’s important the the plot

Also??? Can’t believe I didn’t mention this but abbey mueller shakes her ASS in get down Jane Seymour more like Jane see my ass wowoeoeoeowowoiwisiwi

I’m the gayest person alive I apologize

Ok but like that aside everyone always talks about the choreo in no way and they’re right but the choreo in get down had me shook asf and deserves more from us

The tinder scene had me ROLLING those accents are so good so funny I’ll die rn

The part in get down where the music stops for a beat is actually a comedic thing which I did not know. The music stops and everyone stops like ahh 😯 and they look like momentarily embarrassed and confused before the music starts again and they’re like YES and continue to kill it

Brit is lovely and picks the people in the front row very carefully and like pokes fun gently if they don’t seem happy about it

SAM is amazing

Her portrayal leaves me absolutely speechless every time

The last verse especially is just heartbreaking and she’s like crying and I’m crying and the theater is silent

“I wanna thank all the powerful men who got me where I am today!” Is such a dark joke Bc powerful men literally got her dead and being reanimated in a musical talking about how horrible her life was,

K Howard roast was even fucking funnier in person

She’s very good at like picking up awkward silences when a joke falls a little flat and making people laugh which didn’t happen often but she was so adept at it I’m so impressed

“Are you sure you don’t wanna just stick to backing vocals where you belong?” Is now “we won’t mind if you want to sit this one out. You must be so tired from all those backing vocals😉”

Cathy parr then proceeds to kill it and hold a long ass riff while making eye contact with k Howard

It was very funny and also very pretty

Also Anna Uzele is so cute as Cathy parr and I love her

Her comedy is literally so physical like when she pops back onto the stage toward the end when Anne is like “this is our show and we can have whatever ending we want :)” she holds the funniest pose until the last second and it’s so cute and hilarious

Her little smile aw

During the argument scene she’s trying to stop them from fighting and she just like please don’t I get that you’re upset but o h m y g o d please.

The whole show they’re all being assholes to each other and she’s in the back like Jesus Christ will y’all just s t o p

“MISCARRIAGES!!!!!” Cathy: “. 😳Woah hold on a sec that’s a lil far”

Her facial expressions kill me

“I said, WE HAVE A VOIOIOIOIOIIIIICEE!” STOP IT ILL DROP DEAD TO HEAR THAT AGAIN OH MY GOD

So Anne goes “MY SIXTH FINGER!” And Aragon is like “put it away babes” but what was hilarious is that Andrea was like offended asf she was like “woooow” like how dare she believe I have a sixth finger I do not ACTUALLY have a sixth finger it was a JOKE

Seriously I could not stop laughing the whole show

Six is so good and the super high harmony was so loud it filled the theater and i was freaking out in my seat I can’t believe real people make these noises like they actually sound like angels and they’re human people holy shit they don’t seem real

But they ARE REAL AND ITS INSANE

They’re all beautiful

The audience participation in six was so good and so fun and made me happy

The band were having a blast and killing it!!!!!

During the mega six they took a selfie!!!!

Everyone was jumping and clapping and dancing during the mega six

I was so excited about the mega six I dropped everything I owned and danced like I was at a party

I felt like I was at a party like this was one hell of a concert my dude

I got three pieces of confetti

Adrianna interacted with the audience a LOT but especially with the top rows and especially during the mega six

Actually speaking of, during dlyh she keeps looking at the audience and being like “do you see the shit I’m dealing with here??? God I hate her” and she tells the people in the front row “she’s crazy” when Andrea puts an arm around her

The part where she starts saying “don’t be bitter cause I’m fitter” Aragon goes to keep singing the “oohhooo” but stops when Anne starts talking to her and her face is very “oh. We’re doing this now. Alright.” And then she stands there with a forced smile and let’s Anne talk shit because it’s Anne’s turn and she’s not going to interrupt and I love that. It’s such a good way to act in that moment Adrianna is an amazing actress.

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Don’t mind me I’m just so happy I got to see six

I was on the edge of my seat the whole time and I could not stop smiling

They couldn’t stage door Bc of Covid but people did wait to see them walk out and like everyone cheered every time the door opened

Andrea definitely interacted with the fans more than she was supposed to when she came out and she’s so TINY and she was wearing a cute yellow beanie and I love her

They payed the organ version of Havana several times before the show started

The theater was beautiful!! It was the perfect place for it

The LIGHTING OH MY GID THE LIGHTS IT WAS MAGICAL AND THE FUCKING LIGHTS WENT WITH THE COSTUMES SO WELL BC THE SEQUINS MADE IT SO SHINY AND FLASHY AND BEAUTIFUL AND EVERYTHING ABOUT THE DESIGN WAS INCREDIBLE BUT THE LIGHTING OH MY GOD

The playbills were funny but I think I’m gonna make a separate post for that Bc I have thoughts

[starshine-effendy]

[No sleep] Truth or dare

Is this a series? One answer: Possibly 

Summary: You, beautiful reader, just want to sleep. You haven’t gotten a good night rest ever since you got the 104ths living with you. You sleep in the same dorms with the girls but somehow you’re the only one who can’t get a good night sleep properly. So this is night you thought you were going to get some sleep but instead... This happened. 

Paring: Levixreader 

Warning: Uhhhhhhhhh.... Probably some sleepless nights and screaming? 

It had been a tiring day at training, you had extra cleaning to do so you weren’t the first to get to your room. It was probably 2am but nonetheless, you were ready to sleep. The moon’s light bounced off your window giving enough light to see the shadows of your surroundings. The night was young and the stars were glimmering in the beautiful night sky. The room was still and quiet. Some girls must’ve already fallen asleep. You felt sleep was approaching you too so you drifted off and off... and o-

BAM!!!!

Your eyes shot up and you heard some girls must’ve jumped, hitting their head of the bottom of the bunk or the ceiling. “GUYS!!!!!!” Oh no... You knew that voice very well and you were not in a mood for it. “Let’s go to the mess hall!!!” Hange yelled. You silently cursed and saw that Sasha, Christa and Ymir were already on their way out the door. Hange was standing beside the door giving them space to walk out. When she saw that you were the only one who didn’t move from your position she took matters in her own hands. She called over Mikasa. 

Next thing you knew... You were being dragged by your legs across the halls by Mikasa. Honestly you felt like crying because all you wanted to do was sleep but here you were being literally dragged around HQ. 

You and Mikasa arrived in the mess hall and Mikasa dragged your poor soul towards the giant circle everyone made. She specifically placed you beside Hange and Levi. Everyone was sitting while you were still laying down cursing about Mikasa’s abnormal strength. 

“Alright! Let’s discuss the game!” 

You realized a groan louder than expected. Everyone eyed at you before Mikasa waved you off telling everyone that you were just a sleepy grump. 

You cursed at her before getting pinched by Levi making you jolt up and sat down. You gave him a glare. Sure, you and Levi have been together since the undergrounds and he knew what buttons to push but he didn’t have to make you join this gosh forsaken game in the middle of the night! 

“It’s a simple game of truth or dare. Fail to comply with your dare or speak the truth for your truth and you’ll have to spin the bottle as punishment,” Hange explained. 

You groaned once more. 

(Btw in the circle there was: Mobilt, Hange, You, Levi, Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Reiner, Annie and Bertolt).... 

“I’ll start first,” Hange exclaimed, “Levi! Truth or dare?” 

“Tch, truth,” Levi replied, hands crossed. 

“What did you do last night with Y/N?” Hange asked with a wide grin that would put the titans to shame. While everyone stared at their captain with curiosity. You blushed wildly. 

“I gave her a reward,” Levi replied. 

“Oh hoho~~~ What reward?” Hange teased. 

“I gave her my mop,” Levi replied. (HA! YOU THOUGHT!! YA NASTYYY HAHAHAHA) 

“It was a really effective mop,” You said with crimson red cheeks. 

Everyone stared at the both of you confused. Huh...? Blushing wildly over a mop? 

“Mobilt! Truth or Dare?” Levi asked. 

“Dare,” He replied

“I dare you to confess,” Levi said with a smirk.

“H-HAH?” Now it’s Mobilt’s turn to blush. 

“Confess” You chanted. After a minute, the whole circle was chanting, “Confess” now. 

“I LIKE HANGE-SAN!” He yelled out. 

Hange stared at him for a moment. 

“You know I wanted you to confess that you took my tea but I guess that counts,” Levi said. 

“I DIDN-” Mobilt tried to say but he was cut off by Hange dragging him by his back collar towards the rooms. 

Everyone stared as they left. 

“Welp! That concludes our game. I’m going to sleep now~” You cheered. You got up and walked towards the exit when...

“AWWW BUT I HAVEN’T GOTTEN MY TURN YET!” Sasha protested. 

“SAME!”

“I-I wanted a turn too,”

“I did want one too” 

These kids.... Will be the death of me you thought to yourself. 

You turned around and sighed, “You kids...” 

You shook your head and went back towards your seat. Levi wrapped his arm around your waist securing you so that you won’t leave again. You sighed, “Sasha... Ask,” 

“OH!!!! Connie! Truth or Dare?” She squealed.

“Hahaha, Truth!” Connie confidently replied.

“Did you or did you not ‘accidently’ used Captain Levi’s cravat to clean the tables?” She asked with a mischievous grin. 

Levi’s grip on your waist tightened. A sign that he was not happy. You watched as Levi stared daggers to Connie. Connie’s face was pale and he reached out towards the bottle and he spun.

This was a second option. Kiss the person the bottle lands on or still do the truth/dare assigned to you. The bottle landed on Jean. Connie looked as if he was rethinking his life choices. 

“Is it too late to sleep?” Connie asked. 

“Yes” Everyone in the circle replied. 

Connie sighed and went over to Jean and kissed him on the cheek. Everyone in the room started laughing except for Connie, Jean and Levi who were disgusted. 

“Reiner! Truth or Dare?” Connie called out.

“Pfft, Dare!” Reiner replied, boldly. 

“I dare you to flirt with Y/N!” 

Levi and Reiner stiffened at the dare. Levi pulled you closer to him whilst giving Reiner a death glare. Sweat could be seen on Reiner’s forehead and he reached out for the bottle. He gave it a spin and it landed... on... Levi. 

Everyone gave him pitiful stares. Reiner felt as death was close to him. He inhaled, mentally preparing himself for the pain that was about to come but he thought... Hey... He’s the armor titan. Levi can’t hurt him. So with the confident he had inside of him he confidently said, “Hey Y/N.... I heard your boyfriend treats you like a princess,” You nodded while Levi was glaring daggers at him. If looks can kill Reiner would already be 6 feet below. Reiner... This guy had the audacity to point finger guns at you and continued, “Well you should go out with me instead... Cause I’ll treat you like a queen,” 

“Braun, if you must know I don’t treat Y/N like a princess or a queen,” Levi said with a murderous tone, “I treat her like a Goddess,” Everyone’s eyes widen at their captain’s response. 

Reiner sunk to the ground feeling defeated. Everyone started patting Reiner’s back. 

“Pfft the captain one up you bro,” 

“It’s okay Reiner,” 

“Stop being a baby about it,” 

Reiner looked up to see Levi in front of him. He stomped on Reiner’s fingers. Everyone heard a loud crunch of bones shattering. Levi has broken Reiner’s fingers. He went back and wrapped his arm around you again protectively. 

Reiner, Annie and Bertolt went to the infirmary to heal his broken fingers. 

And now there were 8. 

“Captain ask someone!” Connie yelled. 

“Tch, OI Jeager! Truth or dare?” 

“Uh... Truth Sir!”

“Tell us your relationship with that crazy bodyguard of yours!” 

“Huh..? Who? Mikasa?” Eren questioned.

“Yea” 

“Well... She’s my sister Sir,” 

Mikasa grunted at this and Levi tsked. 

“Armin Truth or Dare?” 

“T-truth,” 

“Who’s the prettiest girl in the circle even if they left?” Eren excitedly questioned. 

“...Annie,” The blonde’s cheeks became crimson. 

“Y/N! Truth or dare?” The blonde cried out.

You weren’t paying attention to them. You were dozing off, head on Levi’s shoulders. Half-asleep... but you managed to mumble out a “Dare” loud enough for everyone to hear. Armin nodded and said “I dare you to kiss the Captain,” 

No response... No movements... You were asleep. 

“Y/N?” 

Everyone started to call out your name but luckily Levi didn’t move. Until that is... Mikasa poked you. You jolted up to your feet and cried out, “YES! HI I’M ALIVE!” 

“I-... I uh dared you to kiss the Corporal,” Armin reminded. 

“YEs... ThE Who?” You were standing, half-asleep and your brain couldn’t process what was happening. 

“Captain Levi,” Mikasa said. 

“AH! Yes! He’s my boyfriend!” You blurted out pointing your hands towards the ceiling. 

“We know he’s your boyfriend just kiss him and get this dare over with,” Mikasa grunted. 

“Kiss... him” You turned your head towards Levi. Who had one eyebrow raised. 

“But he’s too hot... I’ll burn” You mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Is she drunk?” Jean questioned. 

“No idea...” Connie replied. Jean’s eyes went to Sasha but she just shrugged. 

“I haven’t slept in 3 days...” You said, nonchalantly.

“Why didn’t you sleep brat?!” Levi scolded. 

You were about to answer when you collapsed face first towards the floor. 

.

.

.

Silence filled the room until...

“OH MY GOD SHE’S DEAD!” Sasha yelled. 

“NOOOOO I JUST GOT TO KNOW HER!!!” Connie followed. 

“Y/N!!! NOOO” Jean cried out. 

“I was starting to like her,” Mikasa also followed. 

“IS SHE ACTUALLY DEAD?! I’LL KILL ALL THE TITANS FOR YOU Y/N!!” Eren yelled. 

“Guys... She’s not dead she’s just asleep!” Armin yelled, disappointed. 

“Oh” Eren, Sasha, Connie and Jean mumbled. 

“Tch... Troublesome brat,” 

Levi closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. When he opened them he saw you gone from the floor. He looked around the room with a little panic. When he saw you being carried on Mikasa’s shoulders he sighed and shook his head. 

“At least you were going to sleep in your room now,” 

But what he didn’t know was it was 4am and you were going to only get an hour of sleep. 

[fandomfic-galore]

Seriously?

Summary: Sihtric comes home later than he said.

A/n: because I’m a bad friend hahaha. This is for @geekandbooknerd booknerd challenge. Yes I know I’m late. My prompt was seriously, you’re doing the bedroom-eyes thing again. Not Beta-d so deal with it hahahaha

Warnings: smut, p in v, angst, longingly, lonely, angst (like a tiny bit)

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Three days. Three days he’s been gone, when he said it would only take one. Sihtric followed a Uhtred like a lost puppy and sometimes it drove you insane. He followed the fellow Dane everywhere he went, Uhtred would say jump and Sihtric would ask how high.

You walked to the Inn that was no less than 500 yards away from your house. You needed Ale and a lot of it. Maybe you should have listened to your father.

Stay away from that boy Y/N he’s nothing but trouble.

You rarely listened to your father so his warning didn’t matter to you. Maybe you should marry the baker down the road. His life was boring, he had a routine. His life was simple. But Sihtric was...exciting. He was different, he wasn’t like every boring man around your village. He was a Dane. He was dangerous. He was also incredible at fucking you senseless.

Thinking back to the last time you had humped each other, you squeezed your legs together to try and gain some friction in between your legs.

Sitting down at a table with a goblet of Ale you took a long sip and sighed. No matter how much you were frustrated at Sihtric, you lived for the thrill that being with Sihtric brought into your life.

You were in your own little world when you didn’t notice a man sit next to you. Grabbing your glass you took another sip of Ale. The cold bitterness of the amber liquid sent a shiver down your spine. You heard a cough to your right hand side. You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to talk to the man or even acknowledge his existence.

“Aren’t you...with ...that ...bastard” the wrinkled grey man asked you.

Rolling your eyes again, you took one final sip of your drink. Downing the rest of the contents into your mouth. Setting down the goblet you turned your head to the man. Taking a deep breath in, you bit your lip slightly.

“What if I am?” You questioned, tilting your head slightly.

“You need to...be with a real...man...not a ...bastard” he started to slur his words. His drunken state was getting on your nerves.

Lifting the empty goblet, you inspected the glass closely. Looking at the engravings, the detail that someone took time and energy to create. It was such a shame. You took the goblet and smashed it over the drunken man's head.

“Don’t you dare call him a bastard!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “You have no right, you son of a whore”

Stepping back, you looked at the man who was slumped on the floor. Eyes closed and head bleeding. Looking around the Inn, everyone was staring at you. Even the owner, the look on his face was shocked and disgusted.

“I’ll show myself out” you uttered under your breath.

Another three days had passed and there was still no sigh of your Dane. Your heart dropped to your stomach, what if something terrible had happened. What if he needed you and you weren’t there for him. You wanted to curl up in your furs and cry. You needed to know he was doing fine. You knew Sihtric was a brilliant fighter, but people never fought fair when it came to life or death.

You should have asked more questions when he left. You rarely did because he was normally so excited that he couldn’t get any coherent words into a sentence.

You decided on a walk through the woods for a while. Just to clear your head. Try and stop worrying about the one you loved.

The crunching of the dead leaves under your shoes gave you a warmth comfort to your soul. It settled the thoughts in your mind, that we’re running at five horses running through a bare field. The wind was blowing against your skin, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

You approached a stream and decided to take your shoes off. Lifting your tunic, you stepped slowly into the cold water. You gasped as you watched the clear liquid wash over feet. It was calming in a way. The water was washing away your insecurities about the dark haired Dane.

Closing your eyes, you just stood there. In your own little world, taking deep breaths in and out. Waiting for your world to return to normal.

A cough interrupted your thoughts. Opening your eyes, you turned around and came face to face with the Dark haired Dane. Gathering your thoughts you marched over to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his middle. He stumbled back and little and chuckled to himself.

“Have you missed me, my English rose?” Sihtic questioned you. You hummed in agreement. Looking at him, you bite your bottom lip. “Seriously, you’re doing the bedroom-eyes thing” you giggled at Sihtirc words.

Jumping down, you stood tall in front of him. Then...you slapped him across the face.

“That’s for taking longer than you said” when the final words left your tongue you stormed off.

Two Danes and an Irish man walked into your house. You looked up from the stew you were cooking and greeted them with a smile. They all shared a look between themselves. Curiousity was taking over you as you needed to know what the look meant.

Uhtred and Finan left you be without even saying a word to you. This was odd you thought, they normally would say hi. But nothing, not even a murmur from either of them.

In a blink of an eye Sihtric was in front of you. His tunic was thrown over the table and his boots off. He was standing in front of you as naked as the day the Gods brought him on earth. All expect his sword holster and sword. It was kinda of an arousing sight but all you wanted to do was burst out laughing.

You locked eyes with the man towering over you. He has a smirk from ear to ear. You stood up and he took your hands. Bringing you closer to him. He then pushed you against the nearest wall. Gathering up your tunic and under garmets. Sihtric lowered himself and brought your leg over his shoulder.

His tounge traced your folds. Your heat became hotter as he sucked your clit into his mouth. A moan escaped your mouth. Sihtric was flicking his tounge over you clit, it was sending you over the edge already. The time you spent apart must have made you want him even more.

Before the coil in your stomach snapper Sihtric stopped his actions. Dropped your leg and came face to face with you. He kissed you, hard. The kiss was full of passion and heat. You had never kissed each other with this kind passion before. It was intense.

Placing a hand on your shoulder Sihtric Turner you around. Ripping your tunic end under garments away from your body. He placed his hands on your hips bringing you back into him.

You could feel the tip of his thick, hard dick against your entrance. You needed him so badly. He pushed inside of you. Stilling himself he waited for you to adjust.

You moaned and started to buck against him.

“Sihtric, please” you gasped.

Sihtric set a steady rhythm. It wasn’t enough though. You needed more.

A loud sound came from your door and Uhtred was stood there.

“Sihtric I need you. NOW!”

Taglist

The last kingdom @winterseoul @naaladareia

Everything @xoxabs88xox

[inkykeiji]

Hi Clari!!! I hope you're doing well and had an amazing weekend! I'm sorry if you've already answered something like this before! 😊

I was having big thoughts about the twins, but then I couldn't remember if you'd mentioned the other Todoroki siblings existing in this AU!?!

You may have done and I just missed it, but if the other siblings already do, and if not, did exist in the AU, what would the twins relationship be like with them?

I can imagine Touya being the more approachable of the two, I feel he'd click quite well with Fuyumi perhaps? They both give me those sort of caregiver vibes 😅

Natsuo and Dabi I can imagine being close, not quite as close as in the Touya - Nii series, but I can still imagine Natsuo looking up to both his big brothers because they're so cool! (Dabi is just that smidge cooler to him though 😌)

Would Shoto still be Enji's perfect poster boy, or would Touya have taken that spot?

Would the twins be open to sharing the reader with Natsuo like Touya-Nii did in the Snowman and Me series? Or is it strictly something kept between the twins?

Do the Todoroki family know about the reader and the twins relationship? Do they approve?

There are just too many thoughts for my one track mind 😩😌

It'd be really interesting to know your take! --- The anon who dreamt about living with Dabi on a ranch 🐥

hello sweetpea!!!! oh you’re so lovely <33 thank you bb i hope you had a wonderful weekend as well!!! <3

BUT ANONNNN I AM SHOUTING HAHAHAHA oh my gosh okay first of all you and i have got to be on the same wavelength today bb hehehe because i haven’t mentioned their relationship with the other todoroki siblings much on my blog but i do have (and have had) their relationships with each mapped out in my notebook for months now and i was literally looking it over when you sent this in!! <33

AH SO MANY GOOD QUESTIONS LET’S GET INTO IT WEEEEEEE <3

so first i’m going to link you to this post (which kinda just delves into their relationship with each other but touches upon other relationships in the family) and this post (which discusses dabi’s reaction to yelling and touches upon his trauma related to enji; pls heed the tws!!) but to reiterate and all that:

twin!touya pretty much gets along with all of his siblings in some way. he’s the perfect model of an older brother. as i mentioned in the first post linked above, touya is just really good at playing the part. twin!dabi, on the other hand, barely gets along with anyone other than his twin. he’s extremely difficult to be around about 97% of the time.

natsuo definitely does think both of his older brothers are super super cool, and he follows them around like a puppy when they’ll let him, but he’s actually closer to twin!touya than he is to twin!dabi, simply because twin!dabi won’t let him get too close; dabi’s extreme trust issues get in the way. still, natsuo was the only one there for dabi when touya had been taken from him, and that forged quite a lasting and deep bond, even if it terrifies dabi to this day, even if dabi tries his very hardest to shove natsuo away because of it, even if it’s still extremely complex; a jumbled, tangled mess in his heart. but natsuo understands, and he’s nothing if not resilient, so he kinda just bounces back from it each and every time. but twin!touya has a special soft spot for natsuo, because natsuo was there to take care of his baby twin brother when he wasn’t, and to touya, that means the whole world to him <3 touya hopes that one day his twin will let his guard down enough to let natsuo into his heart, too.

fuyumi is incredibly suspicious of twin!touya. she’s smart as a whip, just like he is, and she can read him like a book and knows when he’s up to something; and he’s always up to something. all she wants is for her family to get along, for god’s sake, and she knows touya’s a threat to that, because he knows how ridiculously manipulative he is, and how he’s planning something against their father—fuyumi is the only of the todoroki siblings that actually has sympathy for their father. thus, even though touya has told her time and again not to worry about it, that everyone will be happy in the end, she knows ‘the end’ does not include their father in any way, shape, or form. still, with that being said, they get along quite well, and they’re constantly throwing teasing quips each other’s way <3 when it comes to twin!dabi, fuyumi’s heart positively breaks for him. he shoves her away, too, because he doesn’t know how to deal with her overwhelming love, but that does not deter her in the slightest. she was there, she witnessed what happened to him, she helped natsuo take care of him in every way she could; in fact, fuyumi took care of that entire family after her mother left. but she has such a soft spot for twin!dabi in her heart, a special type of unconditional love and sympathy for him, and she’ll always be there for him, no matter how many callous insults he spits her way. she views him akin to a terrified animal, and she understands why he lashes out, and sometimes—very rarely, but sometimes—he will let her take him into her arms and hold him, hug him, shush him. she was pretty much the mother he never had for those years when he was without his twin, even though she’s a little younger than he is. so there’s a very interesting, very complex bond there as well.

shouto loves both of his eldest brothers so much. twin!touya loves him back, thinks he’s an absolutely brilliant kid and such a kind, beautiful soul, but he can’t help but feel some resentment towards him; residual feelings that have been transferred from his twin to him. still, he tries to bury them, because he knows none of this is actually shouto’s fault, and that their father is the true villain here, the true one to blame. as i mentioned in the first post linked above, twin!dabi hates shouto with a fierce passion, because he feels betrayed for his twin, betrayed by the way their father so quickly found an (inferior, in his opinion) replacement for touya—to mold into the perfect puppet—and he himself feels a little slighted, too, angry and offended that their father didn’t even try to mold him in replacement of his twin and just went straight to the next ‘perfect’ child, because twin!dabi was too much work, he’s sure. shouto is terrified of dabi, but he looks up to touya with absolute stars in his eyes <3

rei feels incredibly guilty. she likes to pretend that she doesn’t know why she took only twin!touya when she really should’ve taken them both, and will regret for the rest of her life seperating the two of them for a few years. it was incredibly selfish of her, to snatch touya up only because she knew it would hurt her husband the most, and to leave twin!dabi and the rest of her children there with such a brute for a father. dabi hates her for it, and she doesn’t blame him. she hopes one day he can find it in his heart to forgive her for such a horrible mistake, but she knows it’s a slim possibility. she is very, very close to twin!touya though.

i have already touched upon their relationship with enji in the posts linked above, but basically twin!touya IS still enji’s favourite, and enji only latched onto shouto after rei took touya away (during the divorce). touya is still first in line for the family business, and shouto acts as more or less of a back-up, in case touya fails. he’s also easier to control, which is quite appealing to enji, too.

and then, as you can tell, the twins themselves have a very, very unhealthy codependency on each other; they can barely function without one another now <3

ANYWAY LOVELY, THOSE ARE THEIR RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE SIBLINGS + THEIR PARENTS!!! to answer your last few questions:

would the twins be open to sharing the reader with natsuo like touya-nii did in the snowman and me series? or is it strictly something kept between the twins? 

no, they absolutely would not share her with natsuo, this is something very special and sacred and kept strictly between them <3

do the todoroki family know about the reader and the twins relationship? do they approve? 

EHEHEHEHE this is something i’m really really looking forward to exploring in the future of the series!!! because the angst potential is totally insane hehe <3 the answer is, it’s extremely complicated. enji doesn’t approve at all. like, at ALL. he hates to think what the press would think, if this ever got out, and he knows dabi would be more than willing to leak it; anything to hurt his father, right? natsuo thinks it’s SO awesome and super hot, fuyumi thinks it’s quite cute how they share everything, but worries for the poor sweet reader since she knows how her brothers can be, and shouto can’t even think about it without blushing and getting super embarrassed; he isn’t really sure what he thinks yet, but he feels like it’s more their business than his own. rei is on the fence; she wants her boys to be happy, but is this really the best and healthiest way to do it? does she even have a say in it at all? is it really her place or her right to step up and say something? she isn’t sure.

i hope this answers all of your questions bb!!!! thank you so much for asking aaaah i LOVE talking about stuff like this and i am super super excited to explore it deeper within the series!!!! AH EHEHE I REMEMBER U AND UR DREAM <3333 aw such a cute lil chick emoji 🥺🥺 i hope you’re doing wonderful my friend and i wish you many more touya dreams in the future <3