#i never shared..... on here which is weird ngl

[teethcake]

Jeff sketch from a year ago

[gi4hao]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ ˎˊ- comforting their s/o that’s scared of talking too much

ot13 x gn!reader — no warnings i think

veeeery self-indulgent post i’m ngl :) if you relate to the prompt then hopefully this will provide you with some comfort! <3

— seungcheol

he will insist on knowing who put such nonsense in your mind, because how dare they make you feel self-conscious about one of the things he loves the most about you? he absolutely adores that you passionately ramble about the most random things; it always lifts his mood even after a long and exhausting day. and that’s what he’s here to remind you: that you should never be ashamed of talking if it’s something that makes you happy.

— jeonghan

any kind of negative thoughts on your part becomes his #1 priority so he takes time to discuss it with you and give you enough reassurance. he reminds you that talking a lot is not a bad thing at all, and that you’re also an amazing listener, which he’s very grateful for. “people are just jealous because you’re interesting enough not to run out of conversation!” he tells you, wiping your tears away. it truly breaks his heart to see you so self-conscious so he’ll definitely be extra careful regarding this topic in the future <3

— joshua

no matter where that insecurity comes from, he comforts you with immense patience and lots of cuddles, reminding you of how much your words matter. on a more personal note, he absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it’s one of his favorite things about you. “i’d fall asleep to your voice every night if i could,” he tells you, looking into your teary eyes with a smile, and you just know he’s being 100% honest, “and you should never ever feel bad about wanting to share things with the people you love.”

— jun

it really pains him to hear that’s how you feel because he can only imagine how long you’ve been thinking about it before even telling him. but jun is here to tell you that you always make people feel comfortable, which is something he finds absolutely wonderful about you. he knows it can be hard to overthink about your social skills so he will always make sure to encourage you to speak your mind (whether it’s through a gentle squeeze of the hand or a smile from across the room). and he also showers you with kisses because he knows it’s one of the best remedies for overthinking :]

— hoshi

what? you? talking too much? oh he’s not gonna let that slide. he proceeds to go off on a tangent about your countless qualities (some that aren’t even related to the topic, he just gets carried away), because he will not let you struggle alone with your insecurities, that’s for sure. as often, he wishes he could lend you his eyes to make you understand how perfect you are to him. “and so what if you talk a lot? i do too! it’s who i am, it’s who you are and that’s why we’re a match made in heaven.”

— wonwoo

it feels weird for him to hear that you’re self-conscious about something he really admires you for. according to him, it’s the ease with which you talk that made your first dates not feel awkward. he loves how good you are with words of affirmation, and he also insists on how it inspires him to be more vocal about his own thoughts and feelings. “i don’t think you realize how entertaining you are. but i sure realize how lucky i am to have you,” he tells you in a more lighthearted tone, pressing a kiss against your temple.

— woozi

he insists on the fact that he’s one of the people that spends the most time with you, so you can truly believe him when he tells you that it’s not true. “that’s just because you love me,” you tell him, comfortably snuggled up against his side. “it is,” he replies, “but that goes for everyone around you; the people who love you will accept you for who you are. and if they don’t… screw them”. because woozi may be an absolute sweetheart but he has very low tolerance for the people who mess with his partner’s head.

— dokyeom

first and foremost, he offers to hug the sadness away, which kind of works because he’s a professional when it comes to comfort hugs. he knows it’s normal to have insecurities but he hates seeing you so self-conscious, so he’ll definitely try his best to cheer you up. also, words cannot describe how much he loves talking with you, so he’d really hate it if these bad thoughts ended up changing your personality. most of the time he’s the bubbly one, but he also likes to be fueled by his very own sunshine from time to time.

— mingyu

as a professional yapper, he understands where that insecurity might be coming from, which means he knows exactly how to comfort you. he’s here to remind you of all the times you’ve been a great listener to either him or your friends, and the great pieces of advice that followed. mingyu thinks your inputs are always important, no matter the conversation, and he’s so freaking happy to be sharing his life with someone that can keep up with his own pace! as long as he’s here, you know you’ll always have someone to listen to your every word.

— minghao

he’s scared he might have accidentally made you feel that way while teasing you (lovingly ofc), so he apologizes profusely until you tell him that he has nothing to do with it. “you enjoy sharing your perspective on things and that’s beautiful,” he reassures you, “and you know me, i’d tell you if you were too overbearing… but you’re not. so don’t worry your pretty head, ok?”. and it’s moments like these that truly make you feel grateful for minghao’s wise and comforting words, always carefully chosen to make your worries disappear in a second.

— seungkwan

kind of like cheol, he wants names. because - and he’s saying that with all due respect - they should know they’re just stupid people spreading stupid lies. seungkwan knows you by heart, he knows you’re a selfless person that’s always here to help their loved ones, and he thinks you’re not giving yourself enough credit for that! “you’re absolutely perfect in every way, and i thi- stop. i can see you’re about to argue but i’m not letting you win this one. no way.”

— vernon

he has a really sensitive approach to this issue, knowing how hard it is when you get in your own head. hugs and cuddles are definitely a part of him comforting you, but he also makes you promise something (and you can see from the look in his eyes that he’s very serious). “if you ever start overthinking after any kind of social interaction, private or public, with or without me, please come and talk to me. i’ll try my best to help you get rid of these thoughts, alright?”. because at the end of the day, he wants to be someone you can be fully transparent with, just like he is with you.

— dino

according to him, you shouldn’t even be thinking about how much you talk in a day. instead, he worries that you might be surrounding yourself with people that simply do not appreciate this aspect of your personality. “if you have something to say, go ahead! being yourself should make you happy, and life’s already too complicated to worry about speaking too many words!” he tells you, and you can tell he genuinely wants you to let go of these hurtful thoughts. but he also knows how hard it is, and luckily chan is great at making long-term efforts (especially for your wellbeing), so expect lots and lots of carefulness and support on a daily basis.

rbs and feedback are always appreciated <3

[asapeveryday]

We Have Now

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader

Warnings: lil bit of angst, suggestive content

Summary: The season is over, the seniors have graduated and the summer has begun. The future holds a lot of uncertainty, but your feelings for Nika have never been uncertain. Is it too late for you?

A/n: I just can’t resist summer themed fics. Also I’m ngl this is NOTT my best work so I’m sorry for that… enjoy anyways.

“Holy shit!”

Through the window of your bedroom you can see the sunset has turned outside an entrancing mix of tropical colours. Pink, purple, orange and yellow mix in the clouds and paint the world around you for a moment, and you know you need to see it up close.

You rush down the stairs and past the living room, where the rest of the team is sleeping on the couch with a movie on in the background.

It had been a long day for everyone, the team had planned to spend a couple days of July at an airbnb in Rhode Island back in February, and the plan thankfully took off.

The day had been filled with a long car ride, various TikToks, loud music, unpacking, swimming and barbecuing. Everyone was exhausted.

When you rush out to the deck you’re encapsulated by the scenery. Sunsets were beautiful, but even better by the beach. The white sand and deep ocean water against the rich setting sky was something out of a book.

After taking about a hundred photos and videos, you put your phone away and just stood in astonishment.

Playing basketball with these girls at Uconn was one of the biggest blessings you’d ever received in your life, and you were going to miss them so much. You often found yourself swimming in old memories at night, memories of locker room conversations, late night drives, shared playlists, loud Friday night parties, shared looks, useless yearning and post game tears.

You’d already gone through your sad feelings at graduation though, and the draft had brought some more light to the situation. You had no regrets whatsoever about your college career, except for maybe one thing. And that thing was on the beach right now.

Nika was laying on the sand, just far enough from the ocean to avoid getting hit by the high tide. She didn’t say anything when you laid down beside her, the both of you just stared at the darkening sky as the sound of waves filled the silence.

“Remember how different things were when we first met?” You finally say after some time.

Nika quietly laughs. “How could I forget?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Gosh, I thought you were so weird.”

“You were weirder.” She grumbles.

“You just thought all Americans were weird.”

“Because you guys are! I never saw so many overly confident basketball players who were so bad till’ I came here.”

The two of you laugh together for a moment, then it’s quiet again.

Your hand is excruciatingly close to hers, but neither of you move closer.

“Everything’s so different now.” Nika mumbles, almost to herself.

You turn your head to face her. Nika’s side profile is strong, prominent nose, perfect lips, sharp eyebrows and expressive eyes. Her cheeks are pink from being out in the sun. You have the urge to make them pinker, but you shake the thought away.

“Yeah. Everything is different…but that’s a good thing”

Nika nods solemnly, but you can tell she’s thinking hard.

“Niks, don’t worry too much okay? Things work out if they’re meant to.”

She brings a hand to her face, covering her eyes and muffling her voice, which slightly wavers when she says. “What if I don’t make it?”

With this you give in and take her hand, squeezing it tight for a moment.

“Baby they’re lucky to have you. One day with you and they’ll know you’re needed on that team. Everyone else knows it for sure.”

“Says who?” Her eyebrows furrow. “I can’t just assume this’ll work out. What if it doesn’t? What the fuck do I do then? All my work will have been for nothing.”

“If Seattle doesn’t see you as an asset to their team, then I assure you there’ll be another team just waiting for you. Everyone here knows how valuable you are as a player, and the internet wouldn’t let anyone forget.”

She isn’t very convinced, but she turns her head to meet your gaze. Her eyes remind you of a puppies eyes. “Thank you.” She says, sincere and slightly embarrassed. Her hand is still in yours and your noses are almost touching. You wonder if she’d ever talk to you again if you kissed her.

At the thought of that, your stomach sinks. You sit up suddenly, hand breaking from hers. You don’t see how her face drops when you do it.

“I-“ you start, but hesitate. You didn’t want to regret anything like this again. You wanted her to know every thought in your head, even if it had a chance of going sour. “I’m really gonna miss you Nika. More than anyone else, I think.” You finally manage to get out.

She sits up now too, her brown hair blowing in the salty wind, her almost hazel eyes glinting from the reflection of the water, or perhaps something else, something like hope.

“More than anyone else?” She questions you.

“Yeah.” You say, turning to meet her stare. “I’ve always liked you more than the others.”

“Hm.” She says, as if she was expecting more.

The silence is eating at you, you just want to scream out how badly you want her. You know it’s too late, when this trip is over everyone splits. You to your hometown, Aaliyah to Washington, Nika to Seattle, Paige and the others to Connecticut. Still, you didn’t want to live with this in you forever.

“I had a massive crush on you during freshman year.” You utter as confidently as possible.

Nika’s lips part in surprise “You- you did?”

“Yeah. Major.” You scoff. Those days were almost pathetic in hindsight, obvious to everyone but Nika and yourself.

You watch as Nika draws swirls in the sand with her finger. You can practically hear the gears turning in her head.

“And…when did this crush fade away?” She finally asks you.

You let a beat pass before sucking it up and saying. “It didn’t.”

Nika’s eyes really widen now. You hold her gaze as best as you can. “I never stopped liking you. It just got stronger overtime, actually.”

You almost recoil when she scowls at you.

“Fuck you.”

“What?”

“Fuck!” She rubs her face, exasperated. “You- urgh, I wish you told me. I wish you told me way, way earlier.”

You don’t say anything.

“I wish I knew. Don’t you get it?” She whines, almost pleadingly. “God, if you’d told me way earlier we could’ve…maybe we would’ve..” she trails off.

Finding out that Nika Mühl, your best friend and longest love, also loved you should’ve been the best moment of your life. Instead it had you thinking of everything that could’ve been.

“I was scared.” You mutter. “I was so, so scared, I don’t know why. I wish I’d just told you, but you know me. I never take chances. I pass the ball, I don’t make the shot. I just…I wouldn’t have been able to take it if you didn’t feel the same. So I never did anything.”

She’s close to you now, hand on your knee, face flushed.

“What are we gonna do?”

You stare at her face, eyes darting from her eyes, then lips, the her eyes again.

Her eyes are beautiful. Honey brown, golden in the sun but piercing now at dusk, eyelashes long and fluttering as she tries to make sense of this situation.

You’ve wanted her more than you’ve wanted that ring at the end of the National Tournament every single year. The thought of you wasting time that could’ve been spent pressed next to her, skin to skin and soul to soul? It was sickening to you.

Still, here she was. Eyes begging you for something you’ve dreamed of. The sky now staining the beach a violent pink.

When your mouth meets hers it’s everything you’ve fantasized about. Her lips are full and soft, fitting perfectly against your own. You can feel her lashes tickle your face as you tilt your head just right, her arms get goosebumps when you fiddle with her hair.

Pulling away from her, you can’t help but melt at the satisfied smile on her face.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Nika says. “I just wish it could’ve happened earlier.”

“I’m tired of wishing.” You say, putting a hand on her face gently. “We can’t change anything now. It’s over. But we have today.”

She drinks in the feeling of being this close to you. “We have now.” Nika whispers.

Your kisses are sweet and chaste at first, but it’s getting colder out and you need her warmth. She changes the pace, clashing into you with a sense of urgency now. When her mouth slightly opens and you feel her tongue against yours you know it’s over for you. She can have whatever she wants.

Nika finds herself straddling you now, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything that’s happening.

After four years of thinking of her before bed, before letting your hands take care of yourself night after night to the thought of her, here she was in all her glory. Body toned and breathing hard, hair sprawled against her tan skin, fingers untying her bikini top.

She leans into you, but instead of kissing you she puts her mouth to your ear. You can feel her smirk against your skin.

“How much of the past four years do you wanna bet I can make up for in one night?

[benedictscanvas]

be still, my foolish heart [1] - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

series warnings: lots of language throughout, some allusions to smut but nothing explicit, a LOT of fucking fluff mostly ngl

a/n: eeeek i have been furiously writing this the last few days and now that a few chapters are done i'm desperate to share. chapters will be out regularly, every couple of days or so. really hope you lot enjoy this one, i'm so grateful for all the recent love <3

series summary: when jamie gets called up to the england team for the first time, he's terrified. enter you, all smiles and swearing, and suddenly his only fear is falling head over boots for you.

next chapter | series masterlist

---

chapter one: to be alone with you

Jamie hadn’t found himself this nervous in quite a while. He’d been worried when he came back to Richmond of course - trying to prove to his team that he’d changed, that he was there for the right reasons, was a challenge. But he’d overcome it and now he had a family for the rest of his life. He thought very little could make him properly nervous anymore.

That was until he was sat in his childhood home, clutching his mum for dear life as they waited for the England team to be officially announced, refreshing the page over and over and over again on his phone. When it appeared at 2pm like clockwork and his eyes scanned the list of forwards only to find the name Jamie Tartt as clear as day, he was up in a moment, him and his mum screaming as they hugged each other and bounced around the room.

It had been the same at Richmond the next day, the congratulations coming thick and fast. He was overwhelmed and excited and eager to chat to every single person who’d listen to him about his dream coming true, but the nerves only kicked in when he was sat in a car with tinted windows a couple of weeks later, arriving at the training ground for his first ever training sessions, which would turn into his first ever England matches in just a few weeks time.

He didn’t know anyone here apart from a few Manchester City players who he had never said goodbye to, so he had no idea what they’d think of him. Sometimes, on a not-so-good day, his mind would wander to the idea of his old City mates laughing together about the shit he’d gotten up to the night before on Lust Conquers All. He hated thinking about it. He knew seeing their faces again would make him think about it more.

It had only been a few days but he missed Sam. Isaac and Colin and Beard and Ted and Keeley and Roy. Roy would have something so simultaneously horrible and inspiring to say to him right now. Richmond had become such a family, it was difficult to imagine playing football with anyone else.

“This is it, Mr Tartt,” the driver says, and that makes him feel even worse because Mr Tartt is his dad and he is not his dad. He hadn’t even realised they’d pulled into a car park.

“Just Jamie, yeah?” he says rather than running away as he gets out of the car. The man smiled, passed him the suitcase that had been sat in the boot of the car and drove off without a word. Now he was really alone.

He pulled his headphones from around his neck and placed them on his head, putting the playlist that the boys had curated for him back on. Ted had made everyone make a playlist for the boys on international duty over the summer, ‘somethin’ to remind you of home’, he’d said, and Jamie had honestly thought it was weird.

Now he was listening to ‘Adventure of a Lifetime’ by Coldplay, added to the playlist by none other than Ted himself, and he had to admit - it was catchy. And it reminded him of home.

He looked around for the entrance and spotted one other young man who he recognised from Liverpool making his way in at an entrance to his left, so he made a beeline for it.

He was just reaching the doors when a woman leaned into his eyeline just enough to catch his attention, just ahead of the doors. He was quick to tear the headphones from his head to avoid looking rude - it was his worst fear.

“Sorry, did ya say somethin’?” he asked, trying to wear a bright smile even if he knew it would come off a little worn. You appeared unphased, wearing a far brighter grin that he knew he could ever manage. It was warm; you were warm. And incredibly pretty, even though he was less keen on how quickly he noticed that.

“I tried to tell them that this whole thing would be a bit awkward when you had headphones on,” you said, and as he stepped closer to have a conversation, it was easier to notice that you were actually quite flustered, the bright grin masking some embarrassment, “I’m part of the PR team, we’re just doing some content for the Instagram. Ask the players what music they’re listening to when they walk in, people go crazy for it. If you’re trying to become the summer’s heartthrob, I recommend saying Taylor Swift.”

“They’re supposed to tell the truth!” a man beside you piped up, all nasal, but Jamie barely spared him a glance. He was still a little caught up in how pretty you really were the closer he got. You were very fucking pretty now that he was a couple of metres away, leaning on the handle of his suitcase. He scolded himself for even thinking about flirting with you.

You, now looking at the man who’d spoken as if you’d just remembered he was there. You cleared your throat.

“No, I know, sorry. I was just fucking with you,” you confirmed, turning back to Jamie, then wincing, “Playing with you, I mean. I swear I’m a very professional person and I don’t swear that much. At work.”

Jamie only realised a few moments into the silence that you were waiting for him to speak. He could feel the heat in his cheeks he had been desperate to keep at bay.

“I swear all the time,” he said, already kicking himself for how stupid that sounded, “Work or no work. Swear as much as you fuckin’ like.”

He can see at least a bit of your embarrassment leaking away, so maybe it hadn’t been such a stupid thing to say after all.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, head tilted in a way Jamie can only describe as fuckin’ adorable. All too quickly, you seem to snap back into work mode, “Anyway, Brian’s right. The truth would be preferable, but if the truth is Taylor Swift, good for you! Any chance you’d be willing to walk backwards a bit, then pretend to do this again for the camera?”

You had the decency to look embarrassed, again, to be asking, but he was quite sure he’d do whatever you wanted him to with those wide, pleading eyes of yours. Just the little kindness you’d provided had washed away a lot of the deep-seated fear he’d been feeling just moments prior. He’d do what he could to repay the favour.

“Yeah, ‘course, whatever you need. Just walk up, pretend I hear your question with me headphones on and then…answer?”

“You’re a natural, Jamie Tartt,” you offer up, signalling who he assumed was Brian to raise his camera back up and get ready. He can’t help himself, just like with his driver, although this time he hopes he won’t get blanked.

“Just Jamie, eh? Less syllables, an’ that.”

You nod and almost look impressed, but he can’t imagine why.

“I’m almost sure Just Jamie is the same number of syllables as Jamie Tartt actually,” you argue, and he almost thinks you’re serious until you break out in that big, bright grin again and he feels like he’s 16, “Sorry. Fucking with you again. You can call me Just Y/N if you like.”

Y/N. Suits you, he thinks. Almost as much as that shade of blue does, all rich and Richmond-esque. He’s sure he’s got a team shirt somewhere that matches that exact colour.

“It’s nice meeting ya, Just Y/N,” he says, then realises how much he’s smiling and needs to do something about it, “And you, Brian. It’s great to be ‘ere, actually, just in general like.”

You nod, kind. Brian does a signal Jamie doesn’t understand, but he walks back a few paces anyway and puts his headphones back on. This time, when you step forward to stop him, he knows what you’ve asked without hearing it and takes his headphones off with a genuine smile at you.

“Oh, this?” he says, making sure he doesn’t smirk when you giggle behind the camera at his acting, “Whole Richmond gang made a playlist for us international lot. Ted, the gaffer, he put a lot of inspirational stuff, you know? Right now it’s Adventure of a Lifetime, the one by Coldplay.”

He’s not sure if he’s meant to say all that or just say the name of the song, and he’s ready to ask if he should start over before Brian signals that he’s cut the camera and you’re gaping at him.

“Okay, I know I put it in your head that you could lie, but you’re actually telling the truth, right?”

Brian scoffs. The prick within Jamie wishes Brian didn’t exist.

“That was worse than just saying Taylor Swift to impress girls,” he mutters, and you make a face that only Jamie sees. You don’t like Brian either and he already likes having something in common with you.

“I know you think that music went downhill after the 1960s, Brian, but no need to take it out on literally everyone who comes through here today. We’re meant to be a fun greeting crew! Why don’t you go get a snickers or something?”

Brian looked disgruntled throughout your speech until you suggested a snickers - clearly the way to the man’s heart. He was turning and speed-walking to the what Jamie assumed was the nearest vending machine in no time.

Now you were pretty and assertive. A deadly combination in Jamie’s eyes, particularly when paired with the fact that he was now pretty sure you were Brian’s boss. You were staring after Brian reproachfully, with a bit of that embarrassment back that Jamie was desperate to rid you of.

“Uh, it was true, by the way,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I can go again if you don’t want me to say that much, or-“

“No! No no, that was-“ you shake your head in a disbelief he doesn’t understand, “Brian’s been like this forever. Please don’t take it personally. I’ve been trying not to all morning.”

“It’s okay, really,” he tries to reassure you, “He works for you?”

He can see the smirk that you try to hide. It’s endearing.

“No, not technically. I like that you think so, though,” you smile, a real one again, just as he’d hoped, “I don’t normally work with Brian, he’s usually a match cameraman, not so much PR. I was just a woman down today.”

Jamie leans in, all conspiratorial, because he simply cannot help it.

“You pulled the small straw, huh?”

You giggle a little and he can feel himself puffing up with pride.

“Short straw, you mean?” you laugh, and some of that pride deflates in his chest. He could have sworn it was small, “Either way, yes. Very much so. I’ll be glad when Tiff’s back at it.”

“So when ya said that you were part of the PR team…you actually meant that y’ run it, right?”

“Guilty. What gave me away?”

“Just an air about ya,” Jamie says, because he doesn’t have a fucking clue what to say. You seem to like his answer, ducking your head a little in a way that’s driving Jamie to distraction, so he decides he’s definitely getting in over his head here. He’d already decided he was not going to flirt. It was a terrible idea, “Anyway, I’ve taken up enough of y’ time. Are y’ sure me bit was okay?”

You look startled at the mention of how much time he’s taken up, like you haven’t even thought about it. Soon enough, that ducked head is gone, replaced by the shoulders back, head up attitude that you’d greeted him with, the one that had told him you were in charge. Professional. He couldn’t decide which version he liked more.

“It was perfect, they’ll love it. Such a great story, even better that it’s true,” you confirm, then you add, like you’ve been holding it in, “Richmond ‘til we die, right?”

He actually feels his heart skip, just for a moment: a moment that tells him he’s absolutely fucked. You look like you’ve just told him the biggest secret of the century and he can’t help but believe you. 

“You-“ he’s too breathy, has to cough to correct himself, “You’re a Richmond fan? Or do ya have to say that to all of us?”

“I’m not supposed to say that to any of you,” you grin, “We’re supposed to keep club level allegiances to ourselves. We’re all one England team and all that. But, you know, star striker tells you the most adorable story about your hometown club, it’s pretty hard not to tell them. Think you can keep it to yourself?”

He’d definitely do whatever you asked of him right now. He wants to go and call Keeley right away, but he already knows what she’ll say. Bad idea: wrong place, wrong time, wrong woman. She’d be right. He shakes aside all thoughts of any harmless flirting with the exceedingly kind, exceedingly pretty Richmond fan. 

“Me lips are sealed,” he says, and he mimes it. He even throws the invisible key in your direction and watches you pretend to struggle to catch it, then mime swallowing it yourself. You finish with a rather convincing gulp then nod at him, like you've just entered a blood pact. He nods back, matching the serious energy.

“Enjoy England camp, Just Jamie,” you say, still with an air of fake seriousness the two of you are keeping up. He wants to shake your hand, continue to play pretend, but there’s the sound of a suitcase behind him and he knows you have work to do. He hopes you don’t like anyone's music choice more than his.

“See ya around, Just Y/N.”

You both nod again and it’s getting a bit stupid now but the two of you seem to want to keep it up. He tries ever so hard not to look back at you once he’s inside, and he almost manages it until he hears you talking to the next arrival. He turns to see you in full professional flow…

With two of his old City teammates.

It’s a bucket of cold water over his head. One pretty girl to greet him and he’s managed to use it as a distraction, a way of forgetting all his doubts, worries, fears. Seeing the two City guys brings them back full force, so he glances back at you once more, then turns to delve further into the training complex, hoping to find another face as friendly as yours.

There’s a voice in his head telling him that would be impossible, but he doesn’t want to listen to it right now.

---

if you got this far, i fucking love you <3 oneshot/drabble requests remain open for sexy little jamie tartt and his grumpy bestie roy!!

[cinnajun]

༻¨*:·. atlas cried | ljn

summary | they say your soulmate is your perfect other half—whatever you lack, they have, and whatever they lack, you have. when lee jeno, your academy’s golden boy, approaches you and says you’re his soulmate, you can’t begin to understand how he—rich, gorgeous, never had to work a day in his life—could be the perfect match for you—poor, exhausted, and barely hanging onto the scholarship covering what would be a 65 million won tuition.

genre | high school au (rich boarding school style), soulmate!au, prep!jeno x fem!reader, prep! jaemin & reader (platonic), angst, slow burn, enemies-ish to lovers, kind of academic rivals but in a way that the rivalry is created by other people, im ngl y/n and jeno just don’t like each other, fake dating? au

warnings | did someone say violent academic pressure, heavy isolation, abusive parenting, malicious rumors, everybody is so unhappy, a lot of miscommunication, internalized misogyny, suicide mention (in passing), arson

wc | 24.7k

a/n: hello and welcome to my first long piece ! i hope it's up to your standards :') i'm not sure how i feel about it, as i've never written anything this long so i'm scared there's continuity issues and whatnot. nonetheless, please send me your feedback !! p.s. here is a short playlist comprised of 10 songs i listened to while i wrote this :) p.p.s im sorry for any egregious typos/poorly worded sentences in the last ~9k words, i proofread all of them while i was really tired lol

ft. a few people i made up

i. during the titan war, atlas sided with his fellow titans in battle to defeat the olympians.

THE WIND HOWLED OUTSIDE YOUR DORM BUILDING, rattling the windows of your dorm room and nearly obscuring the study music coming from your speakers. The sky and the wind told of an incoming storm, which made you want to hurry to the cafeteria and get dinner before you were trapped inside. Your homework, however, drowned out the hunger pangs in your stomach and told you that the endless bags of chips hidden under your bed would make a fine dinner.

“You know, they say your soulmate shoulders the weight of the world with you,” your roommate, Suhyeon, sighed, capturing your attention and effectively destroying the deep focus you had on your homework.

“Ok. And?”

She turned over onto her side, a bored expression taking over her face. “Doesn’t that seem scary?”

“I guess?”

“Would you want to share all your problems with someone else? Like, every single one?”

You resisted the urge to strangle her, as well as the urge to remind her that she does not have to keep a top five spot in her class in order to continue going to school. Instead, you spun your desk chair to face her bed, where she lay, staring at your plain white ceiling.

“Want to go get dinner?”

“With this wind? That sounds dreadful,” she replied, looking at you with a bored face. Then, with a sigh, she pushed herself up from the bed and swung her legs over the edge. “I’m not in the mood for another three bags of honey chips.”

To that, you’d have to agree. For the past three-and-a-half days, you and Suhyeon had eaten three bags of chips for dinner, as you were trapped with your head in your textbooks and Suhyeon refused to go to the dining hall without you (according to her, it would look weird to eat alone, and you were her only friend on campus).

“If I had to guess, we’ll be getting a day off tomorrow,” Suhyeon said, swiping her set of keys off her mostly unused desk. You stood up, cringing at the sound of your back cracking as you stretched. Your legs ached from how long you’d been sitting, as well as your back, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as the cramps you felt in your knees. Suhyeon grabbed her coat off the coat hook bolted to your door, slipping it over her uniform and zipping it up promptly.

You shuffled over and did the same, preemptively sliding the hood up so you could begin situating your hair under it. Suhyeon swung the door open and you obediently followed, emerging into the monotonous corridors of the dormitory.

“Are we due for blizzarding?”

“Yes ma’am.” Suhyeon nodded, swinging her arms back and forth as she half-skipped down the hall. “It’s not cold enough today, but, if it storms tonight, I bet we’ll wake up to a classes-have-been-canceled email.”

You sighed, wondering what that would mean for your math exam that you’d been slaving over for the past week and a half. It was the final midterm until you were granted a week off, which you and Suhyeon had excitedly planned to be spent entirely in your bedroom. If there was a snow day, you hoped your teacher would simply postpone it for Friday, rather than move it after the break altogether.

You opened the door to the stairwell, allowing Suhyeon to pass by you and get a head start on the stairs. You quickly followed, wishing you’d done your usual study-stretch schedule today. Your legs nearly gave out as you tried to stay caught up with your roommate, and you were shocked that you managed to make it to the first floor without falling down a flight of stairs.

Another strong gust of wind rattled the building, and you wondered if it was exactly a good idea to make a break for the dining hall.

Suhyeon let out a loud groan, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “I hate the second year-dormitory,” she announced, slowing to a stop in front of the first pair of doors to the outside. “Why do the first years have the indoor path to the dining hall? If anything, they should be the ones in the old, rickety dorms.”

“There’s nothing happy about second year, though. If they put all the depressing stuff halfway in, it won’t be as easy to drop out,” you said, taking the chance to run outside the moment the wind let up a bit. Suhyeon followed close behind you, catching up enough to lace an arm around yours as you ran through the school courtyard.

You practically bulldozed into the dining hall as another burst of wind began, which ended up with you and Suhyeon having to push the door closed as if you were trying to move a broken-down car. The door shut with a satisfying lock, leaving you in the entryway room that consisted of four doors and absolutely nothing else.

Suhyeon sighed, pushing through the second set of doors. The moment they opened, you were hit with the strong smell of spaghetti, which made the hunger pangs worsen substantially. Despite the time, the dining hall was mostly empty, save for a few groups who’d opted to spend their after-school time in there and any third years or first years who’d decided they were hungry.

They didn’t have to make a mad dash across campus to arrive without being blown away. In fact, none of them were even wearing any sort of rain gear.

“Oh god,” Suhyeon mumbled as you approached the serving counter, picking up two trays from the stack they had at the edge.

“What?”

“Golden boys are here.”

You looked up from your tray, turning your head to scan the cafeteria. Sure enough, all six of the golden boys—as they were called—sat at a table in the corner of the room, books littered across the table alongside bowls of spaghetti and an enormous amount of garlic bread. They seemed to be having a good time, laughing and making up essentially all the noise that rattled the room. Suhyeon always told you that there were seven of them, but one had the misfortune of taking a transfer year to some “partner school” off in Shanghai this year, and last year he was still a middle schooler.

You thought the seventh boy might’ve been a ghost that you couldn’t see, though.

One of the cafeteria ladies put a hefty bowl of spaghetti on your plate, along with an oddly gourmet-looking piece of garlic bread. There was a self-serve salad bar and dessert bar further down, but you weren’t too interested in having any of it for right now.

“Awe, they’re sitting a few tables down from our usual spot,” Suhyeon mumbled, stopping to grab a bowl of salad. You waited behind her, staring at the distance between their table of madness and your quaint corner. They were sitting adjacent to the window, likely to survey the weather, and your two-person table was situated in a corner between a false wall that separated the eating area from the first-year entrance. There were about six tables, give or take, between you and them.

“We’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re right next to them,” you said, turning towards her. She was finishing up her salad, placing the bowl on her unbalanced tray, and attempting to get it stable with her now-free other hand. You took that as your chance to begin your stroll to the table, with Suhyeon nervously following behind.

For some reason, she did not like the oh-so-famous golden boys. Any time they entered the conversation, she went silent, and always ended up throwing off the momentum of the conversation with her anxiety; when you tried to ask her about it, she always got defensive, saying she has “nothing to do with them” and “doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

You allowed her to take the corner spot, frowning as she shoved herself into the corner and began picking at her food with her fork. You wondered if it was mean to do this when she so obviously had an issue with it, even if she insisted she didn’t.

“We can sit somewhere else…”

“No, you’re right,” Suhyeon cleared her throat, shaking her head. “It’s not like we’re right next to them. I’ll be fine.”

You took another look at her hidden in the corner, recognizing that she was not going to be fine, but you didn’t push any further. If you had to guess, the last thing she wanted to do was have you make a big deal about her discomfort.

You both ate quietly and quickly, hoping to finish before the oncoming storm hit. Due to the lack of conversation between you two, courtesy of the golden boys being twenty-ish feet away, it wasn’t hard to get through nearly the entire meal within a few seconds.

Your silence also made it quite easy to hear what the golden boys were talking about at their table, added to how easy it was to see them from the corner of your eye.

“I heard Nayeong say we’re getting tomorrow and Friday off,” Zhong Chenle reported, taking a long drink of his water. “They’re just waiting to make it look like it was a last-minute decision.”

“Wow, student council president certified? Must be true, then,” Na Jaemin replied, turning to Lee Donghyuck, who was dejectedly scrolling through his phone. If you had to guess, he’d struggled with the English exam that had taken place earlier that day, seeing as he was notoriously good at Japanese and nothing else. “What's gonna happen with the big math midterm tomorrow, then? I don’t want it to be after break, I’d seriously rather die.”

Donghyuck barely glanced up from his phone before answering. “Rumor has it they’re gonna proctor it in the dorm study rooms. Separate everyone into time slots and stuff. They’re doing it for the third and first years, too.”

Chenle groaned, letting his head dangle on the edge of his chair. Mark Lee, student council vice president and perhaps the second most adored student in the school, didn’t comment on their rumor-spreading. You expected him to be the one they relied on most for information, but 

You raised your head slowly, looking over at their table. Mark Lee didn’t comment because he was staring straight at you.

Suhyeon noticed your staring, following your eyesight towards Mark, who was now staring lasers through your head. She dropped her chopsticks into the mostly empty bowl, standing up from her chair suddenly. The movement, along with the clattering of metal, scared you, causing you to snap your head back towards her.

“I don’t feel good.”

Her face was turning pale and her eyes began to water, which was considerably uncharacteristic for her. You looked up at her, glancing down at your half-finished spaghetti and garlic bread. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Can we go back to the dorms, now?” she asked, placing a hand on her chest. “I feel really nauseous.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, standing up. “We can just leave the plates. Let’s go.”

You glanced over at the golden boys’ table, which had gone quiet. Mark was whispering something to Lee Jeno, who was also staring at you now, arms crossed over his chest and blonde hair (when he showed up blonde at the beginning of the year, everybody lost it) wisped over his forehead.

Gently, you wrapped a hand around her shoulder, hugging her to your side as you made a swift departure from the cafeteria. You got odd looks from other students, but, for the most part, nobody got in the way of your exit. You emerged straight into the dangerous wind, not stopping despite how much it threatened to blow you away.

Being out of sight of the golden boys took a huge weight off your shoulders, one you didn’t know was there. Sometimes you garnered looks given your well-known scholarship student title, but that was mostly from first years who were shocked that could even happen. As far as you were aware, you had nothing to do with the golden boys—not even something as simple as a group project or anything.

Had you done something wrong? Were your grades slipping? Was there something going on concerning your scholarship? The wave of questions washing out your mind was causing you to feel nauseous; you didn’t want Mark Lee looking at you like that. You didn’t want any one of them looking at you like that.

You practically threw the dormitory’s doors open, dodging past anyone who might’ve been in your way. You couldn’t get Mark Lee’s stare out of your mind, because it was unexplainable, because it was unprompted, because it could mean you’d be kicked out of the academy and sent back to your terrible parents who would berate you for forever, telling you that you’re worthless and no better than your freeloading, addict siblings.

You skid to a stop in front of the dorm’s nursing office, knocking three times and not waiting for a response. You pushed Suhyeon inside, grabbing the dorm keys from her jacket pocket and giving the resident nurse an unnerved look.

“She’s not feeling well,” you explained, giving Suhyeon no time to protest you dropping her off in the nurse’s office. Instead, you practically slammed the door shut, staring at the monotonous wood for a moment more.

Your heart was pounding. Your mind was spinning. You could barely breathe.

Quietly, you turned towards the end of the hall, where the stairwell waited for you to climb it. Suddenly, it occurred to you that there was a slim chance you could be climbing it for the last few times beginning today.

As you approached, you wondered what your siblings would do if you lost the scholarship. They’d laugh at you, sneer, and say “I thought you were supposed to be the perfect child?” They’d watch as your parents struck you, yelled at you for being worthless and nothing better than the rest of them. They’d force you to kneel on rice while they “mourned” the loss of their shot at wealth, asking you why you didn’t sleep around with the student body to try and ensure a husband.

“You’ll never be this pretty again,” they would say. “Who cares about your soulmate? Will a soulmate bring you money? Comfort? Look at what happened to your father and I when we chose each other over wealth. Do you want to be like us?”

You slammed the door of your dorm shut behind you, falling onto your knees. You realized that you’d never turned your study music off, or your lights, or anything before you’d left for the dining hall.

You looked down at your arms, letting yourself hold up your right hand. There, in the very center of your palm, was a code that you’d memorized the moment you began to comprehend it: LJN.

You picked yourself off the floor, suppressing the panic tears that threatened to spill over. Instead, you approached your desk, dropping down onto the chair and shoving your math textbook out of the way. You instead chose to focus on the human biology book, long and heavy, that sat underneath it. Weakly, you flipped through the pages, stopping on the first page of a chapter entitled “Soulmates: Biology’s Biggest Mystery.”

The first paragraph read, “the concept of soulmates has long been a pillar of human society. The existence of a ‘soulmate marking’ has purportedly been around since the beginning of time, but the earliest recordings of it come from ancient Mesopotamian tomes depicting a ‘perfect other half’ that ‘completes the human body.’"

You must’ve tattooed these words on your brain when you were studying, but, even then, you couldn’t help but feel mystified every time you read through it. You never cared too much about the whole soulmate craze, considering you were still a teenager and didn’t need to care about “forever” yet, but there was always a sort of comfort that you found in it. The existence of your soulmate confirmed that you would not be chained to your parents for the rest of your life, and, one day, you’d be able to leave them behind for a better, happier life.

You read on, tracing the words of the chapter with your index finger.

“Around 97% of the population have a set of initials written somewhere on their body, one that they’re born with. Their soulmate will have a marking on the same part of their body with the coinciding set of initials. There have been no instances of these initials changing, even upon the death of one’s soulmate, meaning the connection is entirely permanent.”

There was someone out there who would pull you out of this. You were sure of it.

And, when that happened, your life would truly begin anew.

ii. the titans lost the war, and the olympians banished the titans to tartarus.

From beginning to end, your math midterm was a mess.

Sure enough, classes were canceled, but they proceeded with finishing things up before your week-long break began and all information previously learned left your mind. You’d been placed in a 3:30 time slot to take your exam, along with about 15 of your classmates, in the dormitory study room that you’d never once step foot into.

Upon arrival at 3:10, you were faced with the sad truth that both Huang Renjun and Lee Jeno were also in your time slot. Initially, you avoided their gaze, shrinking into the corner of the lounge and hiding behind your phone and wired earbuds. But, you were learning the world would never be kind to you because, the moment Lee Donghyuck emerged from the 1:30 time slot, he had a perfect view of you.

You subconsciously tried to hide once more, hunching down and allowing for your hair to fall over your face. You increased the volume of your music, a random, synthy song you’d fallen in love with some time last week, and tried to ignore how Lee Donghyuck’s gaze made you feel like an internationally wanted criminal.

Once they took note of you, the staring did not cease. Lee Donghyuck left for his dorm while you waited for your proctor to announce things were ready (which happened about a minute and a half after Donghyuck left).

You ripped your earbud out when you saw her appear out of the corner of your eye, jerking up to look at her and wishing your heart would stop beating so fast. “There’s assigned seating, which I will call out now. When you hear your name, please sit behind the person last called. If that person is sitting in the very back, please begin the next row in the front.”

Huang Renjun was called third, which took a small weight off your shoulders. That didn’t stop Jeno from looking at you, stealing glances and sometimes blatantly staring with those terrifyingly cold eyes of his.

“[First] [Last].”

You nearly tripped over your feet getting up, leaving your small bag along with your cell phone and earbuds on the chair you sat waiting on. You held your pen and pencil so tightly in your hand that your knuckles were pale, and you must’ve looked sick to the proctor, given the look she offered you as you passed beside her.

Your eyes narrowed in on the empty seat behind the last girl that was called—the student council secretary, Yeji—and you swiftly approached, half-returning the smile Yeji gave as you walked past.

Huang Renjun was one seat behind you and two rows over, meaning he would barely be able to see you. If you were lucky, Jeno would be the first to start his row, meaning he would be in front of you and therefore it would be impossible for him to look at you.

You weren’t sure why you still relied on luck when pretty much all of it was wasted when you got into this godforsaken school on a scholarship.

The proctor called an Osaki Shotaro, who came and took the seat behind you. Then, a Kim Juyeon who began the next row. Then, a Liu Yangyang who sat next to you.

“Lee Jeno.”

You could’ve shot yourself right then and there, especially as he sauntered over to the seat, dropping into it and immediately beginning to spin his pencil around his fingers. You could practically feel his stare like lasers being shot through the back of your head, unending and unwavering as the proctor called the final girl and shut the door behind her.

“Thank you for arriving smoothly and on time.”

You wished you would have skipped. Skipping might’ve cost you your scholarship and your future, but, if you got Suhyeon on your side and claimed you’d woken up severely ill but couldn’t make it to the nurse because Suhyeon had the 10:30 time slot and you woke up at 11, you might’ve been able to make it to the makeup date.

If only God had been kind enough to warn you about this one.

The proctor began to hand out your answer sheets and tests while droning on and on about rules, her words going in and out of your ears like the pointless documentaries your history teacher enjoyed showing. As if you hadn’t taken five of these exams already, she regurgitated these rules, causing your mind to spin more and your leg to bounce harder.

“You may begin.”

You barely began at all. For the entire test, your mind wasn’t focused on derivatives or any sort of equation you’d spent weeks memorizing—no, your mind was focused on Lee Jeno, Mark Lee, all the golden boys, and why they were suddenly so focused on you. You wrote down numbers and letters, plus signs and square roots, all while thinking about what they could want from you.

With every page flip, with every boxed answer and filled-in bubble, your mind fell deeper and deeper into your panicked trance. At some point, you began writing on autopilot with no mental capacity to tell whether or not what you wrote was correct. A part of you wondered why you cared so much when you were obviously about to become the first-ever scholarship student at the academy to lose their scholarship, to be the first investment that brought a net loss instead of a net gain.

Before you knew it, the test was over, and it was 5:15 pm on the dot. You felt like throwing up, a million spiders crawling up your stomach and throat as you stared at what you wholeheartedly believed to be a failed math test. Your mind spun—math had always been your worst subject, and you’d always teetered on the edge with it. As long as you excelled in other subjects, you’d be fine, but there was an absolute need to ensure you did not fall below rank five.

As long as you were never below five, you would be fine.

The proctor snatched your test up from your desk, taking a once over with a smile. “Congratulations on finishing, Ms. [Last],” she said, a formality she’d repeated to everyone but carried a special weight when she spoke to you.

You wanted to reach for it, take it back and run away with the paper. You couldn’t remember a single question you’d answered, let alone whether or not the answers were right. This would be the first (and last) time you’d drop below rank five in your exams, and you’d be packing up your bags when the grades dropped next week. This was the end of your paradise, all thanks to a few awry looks from the academy’s beloved golden boys.

“All papers have been collected. You are free to return to your dorms,” the proctor announced, placing the stack on her desk. You lingered on for a moment, staring at your hands and focusing on the pressure that weighed your shoulders down every waking moment of the day.

Once, Suhyeon was trying to get you to go shopping with her while you were studying. You refused vehemently, citing your grades as the reason why you couldn’t watch her spend thousands upon thousands on clothes she’d never wear while you cringed at every price tag you saw.

With one of her usual, airy sighs, she collapsed onto her bed, mumbling a hollow statement that stuck in your mind: “[First] [Last], forever crushed by the weight of the world.”

Your self wallowing was cut off by Lee Jeno stopping in front of your desk, looking down at you with his terrible cold stare. You returned his focus, fighting off the urge to curl into yourself and tell him to never speak to you again.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, shoving his hands into his blazer pockets. “I’ll meet you in the library at 8.”

You gave him a look that could only be described as confusion, tilting your head at the notion.

“The library closes at 5 tonight.”

“Does that matter to me?”

He scoffed a bit, not paying you another second. Instead, he sauntered off with Huang Renjun, who gave him a steady slap on the shoulder as he walked out. Renjun followed behind, saying, “You’ve got guts now, huh?” while continuing to hammer on his shoulder and laugh at his “guts.” All you could do was slowly lift yourself from your desk chair, thinking about what you would do upon your return to Jinhae-gu. What your ex-classmates, who’d screamed and cried with you when you received your scholarship notice in the middle of the school day, would say when you walked in, a husk of your former self.

What you’d do when you saw your parents and siblings again.

“Ms. [Last], now that exams are over for second years, I suggest you stop by Miss Choi’s office as soon as possible. I know how much pressure you’re under to retain such perfect grades,” the proctor said, causing you to be torn away from your mind once again.

You smiled weakly at her, nodding. “I will, ma’am. Thank you for your concern.”

“It’s no issue, sweetheart,” she said, dropping a hand onto your shoulder. “We all want to see you succeed.”

You bowed at her as a way to get her to stop touching you, rushing out of the classroom. You’d rather die than go see Miss Choi, who picked you apart too easily in your opinion. You didn’t like the way she seemed to know how you were feeling, how she tried to teach you how to carry the world, because Miss Choi—an alma mater of the academy by paid tuition and not by scholarship—would never know what this felt like, even if she followed you around for three months straight.

With your bag retrieved, you began your march up the stairwell, a new anger brewing in your heart. When you were gone, when there was a lack of honor student to bring up in the interviews and magazine features, when you worked up the nerve to post a forum piece on how the academy destroyed any bit of happiness you had, they’d understand that this wasn’t just academic pressure.

Suhyeon was right—you were forever crushed by the weight of the world because nobody else here wanted to carry their weight and believed there was no one better suited to pick it up other than you.

iii. tartarus was a deep abyss used as a prison for the titan gods,

“You can’t go out right now, the weather is too awful,” Suhyeon insisted, scrambling to reach for your keys. You grabbed them before her, dropping them in the pocket of the jacket you’d draped over your lounge clothes. “It’s dark and the snow is barreling down, [First]. Where could you possibly go right now?”

You bit your lip, staring down at her. She was dressed in her pajamas, practically ready for bed by this point, with a matching Hello Kitty pajama set and a headband pulling her hair away from her face. A pair of glasses sat low on the bridge of her nose, sliding down further the more she tried to discourage you from leaving.

“I just want to take a walk. It stopped snowing a while ago, so there’s no barreling down happening, and I have my snow boots on. Everything should be fine,” you insisted, slipping your gloves on. Suhyeon went to stand in front of the door, blocking your exit to the outside and further delaying your meet-up with Mr. Perfect.

“Promise you’ll be back before room checks.”

You sighed. If whatever Lee Jeno needed to speak to you about was important, he must’ve put something in place to ensure you wouldn’t get in trouble for missing room checks, but you couldn’t be sure. You nodded, waving her out of the way.

“I’ll be back before room checks. Swear on it.”

Uncomfortably, Suhyeon stepped away from the door, allowing you to pass without a word. You slipped out of your room, giving her one last glance before you shut the door behind you and isolated yourself in the dorm corridor. It was cold—everything was cold—and dark, with dim LEDs illuminating the hall floors and nothing else providing any sort of light. It was akin to that of a movie theater's stairs—just lit up enough that you could make it down the stairs without plunging to your doom.

You made your way to the stairwell, cringing as your shoes clicked against the wood of the stairs. You hoped that Jeno had done anything to protect you from the wrath of the late night staff, but you wondered if getting caught meant anything when you’d be gone in a week.

The dorm’s common area (or, more simply, the first floor) was completely devoid of everyone, as aligned with the school rules, which said no students should be out of their rooms past 7:30 on a weekday to avoid issues with student health or student safety. Room checks began at 9, which essentially meant you could be out and about until then, but nobody wanted their parents finding out they were screwing around instead of studying.

You took no time in crossing the common room, weaving through tables and couches in hopes that a teacher didn’t appear and tell you to get back to your room before this “hurt your future,” as they liked to tell you. When the doors to the dorm opened, you could’ve sworn you felt your heart drop into your feet—but, the doors opening did not yield a teacher or any staff member.

It yielded Na Jaemin.

Upon seeing you, he gave you a cordial smile and a nod. Jaemin was Lee Jeno’s second-in-command, his beginning and his end. From what you’d heard from classmates, they’d grown up together, being neighbors from the day they were born and being friends from the day they could speak. You barely saw one without the other, and you couldn’t lie when you said part of you was expecting Jaemin would be in the library along with Jeno tonight.

“Good evening, [First],” he greeted. You offered him an uncomfortable nod back, accompanied by an unsure smile and your shaking hands. “Library’s unlocked.”

You blinked a couple of times, suddenly clueless as to what he was talking about. Na Jaemin was blinding, from the way he smiled at you to the way he even looked at you.

“Ah, um, thanks,” you said, coming to your senses. “Sleep well, or something.”

Jaemin chuckled, nodding. “You too. Good luck!”

He passed by you without another glance, another word, disappearing into the men’s side of the second-year dorms. You watched his figure retreat for a moment, wondering if you’d run into any other golden boys on your way to the library. You hoped Jaemin was the only one.

As you emerged into the cold, night air, stepping onto the snow and sinking in almost immediately, you now found yourself focused on your brief interaction with Na Jaemin.

A while back, you’d heard that he didn’t have a soulmate.

You were just starting out, and, given the nature of your enrollment at the school, you’d had a slight amount of popularity. People hung around you with the idea that you’d somehow trick them into good study habits and unrivaled intelligence (to be honest, people still do), and that inevitably came with you hearing whatever gossip traveled around your class at the time.

“You know Na Jaemin? The boy who started this year and immediately made it in with Mark Lee’s crowd?” a girl asked you, sliding into your study table at the library. Instantly, she’d caught the attention of the other three students who asked to study with you, drawing them away from the math worksheet you were all working on. “Ah, [First], Mark Lee and his crew have been attending the academy since elementary school, so they kinda own the place. They never let anybody in with them until Na Jaemin.”

Upon hearing that, you’d mostly been impressed that somebody could afford that many years of tuition here, let alone send their child into academic hell from the moment they’d learned to read. Suhyeon hadn’t told you that she’d also lived the same life, yet, so this was your first exposure to what most students called the “originals” of the academy.

“He doesn’t have a soulmate.”

A sort of surprise settled in around the table, given how rare it was to be born soulmate-less. There was a “no way” thrown out, along with a couple of gasps of disbelief. You’d felt bad for him, wondering what it was like to live in a world where (mostly) everybody but you had a universally-fated life partner.

Your tablemates didn’t seem to think similarly to you.

“God, my mother would be overjoyed if I was soulmateless,” one of your classmates, Chaeyeon, hummed, leaning back on her chair and resting her elbow on the back of it. You turned to her, shocked that was her first reaction upon hearing about Na Jaemin’s soulmateless-ness. “He must be the golden child of his family.”

“He’s the youngest, too, so he was inevitably going to be the kid they married off. That’s one less person they’ll need to pay off.”

Na Jaemin, whether the rumor was true or not, was your way of finding out that rich people often trapped their younger children in loveless marriages, and paid off their soulmates to keep them from ever forming a relationship. They’d even had a saying for it: “An accomplished father’s best child is the child who can marry for money with no regrets.”

It horrified you because that was how your parents thought. You couldn’t imagine a life where everybody, not just your parents, thought that way.

As quietly as you could, you pushed the door to the library open, finding yourself in the sprawling lobby you were so acquainted with. Despite the academy being a lower grade school, the library was the kind that you’d find articles on and the kind where people would travel just to see it.

Usually, it was locked to the high heavens when it was closed due to its extensive collection of books no high schooler needed to read, but tonight was different. You wondered if Mark stole the keys from Nayeong and gave them to Jeno.

You shuffled towards the stairs, wondering if Lee Jeno was going to make you search for him. Your heart began pounding in your chest once again, thoughts of expulsion (losing your scholarship wasn’t technical expulsion, but it might as well have been) and disappointing everyone you know with a simple 89 on a math test.

The second floor was completely dark, which was creepier than you wanted it to be. Assuming Jeno wasn’t waiting for you in a pitch-black room, you continued up the stairwell, telling yourself Jeno wasn’t going to inform you of your impending doom despite the fact that he was a student, and that he wasn’t even on the student council.

You couldn’t imagine whatever else he wanted to talk to you about, though. You weren’t in the same sphere, hell, even in the same universe as each other—he hung around the golden boys and nobody else, breaking every rule the school had to offer and using his father’s name as an excuse. You hung out with the kids who lived closer to the bottom (whatever bottom meant at this god-forsaken school), the kids whose grades had a real impact on them rather than the ones who went to school to say they did.

The third floor was also completely dark but gave way to the dim lighting that lit up the fourth floor. For some reason, Lee Jeno had decided to taint your preferred study floor with whatever he had to tell you, but you supposed he had no clue that it was your usual study spot. After all, you were in different universes.

Taking the final few steps up to the fourth floor, you noticed that, while it was illuminated, there was no sign of Jeno anywhere. The lights were on and it was dead silent, with not a single movement or noise to even hint at another person being inside; but, from the way one of the tables had its chairs sprawled about and from the light smell of coffee, you could tell people had been in here recently.

If you had to guess who, it was the rest of the golden boys, given your run-in with Jaemin in the lobby of your dorm. You wondered where the rest of them went, particularly Donghyuck and Renjun, who hadn’t ventured through the lounge of the second-year dorm—hopefully, they weren’t still here, as the emptiness was somewhat calming.

You decided to venture further into the fourth floor, walking past the proof-of-life table and entering the rows upon rows of shelves. The fourth floor was the most academic, being the quietest at any given time. Nobody liked scaling four flights of stairs with the sole purpose of studying, so the only people who did were the ones who wanted to avoid the quiet yet prominent chatter on the lower floors.

And the golden boys apparently, but only past closing.

The silence of the room made your heart slow down to a calmer rate, as well as making any panic you were previously feeling dissipate. You were sure that, the moment you found Jeno, it would resume where it left off, but you were grateful for these few moments of calm before the storm you were about to step into.

You continued walking through the shelves, scanning the book’s spines and their titles as if you hadn’t seen them nearly every day for the past two years. You allowed the tips of your fingers to brush along the many different textures and indents of the well-loved books before you. If you were truly at the end of your time here, you ought to write a love letter to this library, thanking it for the countless hours you spent reading and learning in hopes that you, one day, would be a peer of the people around you and not just a spectacle.

At the edge of the shelves, there was another small clearing of desks and then a couple of couches that most students used to take naps during finals season, and that's where Lee Jeno waited for you. The moment you appeared from the woodwork, he noticed you, staring at you from the corner of his eye.

“I was thinking you weren’t going to come,” he said offhandedly. You furrowed your brows, pulling your phone out of your pocket—it was 8:17.  You hadn’t even noticed how slowly you were traveling, seeing as you left your dorm at 8:03.

As you’d expected, your heart had begun beating out of its chest, and you, once again, began to prepare for the worst. You slowly approached the couch adjacent to him, sitting down as slowly as you could. You sat like a board, stiff and nervous, waiting for him to explain himself even in the slightest.

Instead, he leaned over to the coffee table in front of you, pushing a small coffee cup towards you. You stared at it for a second, confused and a bit freaked out, but you picked it up nonetheless, thankful he’d thought to get you something warm. He continued to sit in silence, leaving you with a couple of moments to study him thoroughly.

Before today, you’d never really looked at him. Sure, you’d given him a couple of nervous glances, but there was something about Lee Jeno that made you feel inferior. He was the son of a major CEO, one of the biggest conglomerates in all of Korea (and maybe even Asia), somebody you would’ve never even dreamed of meeting three years ago. He was above the rules of the school, above the rules everywhere, dangling his parents’ name and a wad of cash above anyone who tried to tell him no.

His hair was bleached blonde, but it seemed so healthy that you could’ve mistaken it for his natural hair color if you hadn’t known any better. He’d shed all his snow-protectant layers, which were sprawled out along the remainder of the couch next to him. Despite the lack of need for it today, he was dressed in his usual uniform—a black blazer, white turtleneck, and black and green plaid pants—which was a blatant violation of the dress code due to the lack of a polo shirt, but you’d never see him get in trouble for it. He sat with an aura of regality that you could only try and imitate, with his leg lazily crossed over the other and his arm resting on the back of the couch. In his other hand was a cup of coffee like yours, but his was so hot that it was steaming from the lid’s opening.

“I didn’t know your last name until Mark told me,” he finally said, taking a sip of his burning hot coffee. You mimicked his movements, taking a sip from your own, trying to fight off any physical reaction to the bitterness of it.

“What do you mean?”

Jeno sighed, holding up his hand. You stared for a moment, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to make out the small letters on his palm. Then, all too quickly, the truth flooded your mind—the initials on your hand, LJN, and the initials on his, your very own set.

It shocked you so bad that you nearly dropped the cup of coffee. The reveal did nothing to soothe your nerves and, instead, amped up the panic a lot more. Your head spun at the thought, and, while you hated to say it, all you could think about was the negatives.

What would your parents say when they found out your soulmate was Lee Jeno, of all people? The son of a CEO-and-politician, the son of a man who drowned in money, a person who was born rich and would die rich? They’d never leave you alone once finding out, demanding check after check to ensure they never said a word about their relation to the Lees. They’d torment you for the rest of your life, and you’d forever be stuck under their reign of terror, forever their child, forever their moneybag.

On top of that, you’d never have an accomplishment that was fully tied to you again. People would see you as a connection, and they’d give you opportunities based upon that connection rather than based on your natural ability. You’d be respected because of who your soulmate was, not because of who you were, and you’d end up like the women you saw on TV—lifeless dolls with the title of “wife” and nothing else.

You thought meeting your soulmate was supposed to be this fateful encounter under the stars, the moment where you met the one person who would love you most. You expected to be mystified, sent to a world of love and comfort, sent to a world where your problems were nonexistent and the sun was shining and the birds sang tales of love and togetherness. You wanted to feel as though you were being embraced by constellations, struck by Cupid’s arrow as you stared at the person the universe decided was your fateful match.

Instead, you stared at Lee Jeno, and all you could feel was an overwhelming sense of disappointment.

“Well,” you mumbled, unsure of what you should do now. “What now?”

He didn’t seem to have a direct answer, either, simply taking another sip of his coffee. You mentally questioned how he was able to consume something that hot without burning the hell out of his tongue, but that wasn’t something you needed to dwell on.

When he didn’t respond, you took it upon yourself to ask another question and drill until you got all the answers you wanted.

“How long have you known?”

This was something he seemed to know the answer to. Without skipping a beat, he replied, “Mark told me about eight months ago after he saw your name on the award listings.”

To that, you felt your heart dry out a little bit more than it already was. Eight months was a long time to wait after knowing who your soulmate might be, especially considering that, eight months ago, he could’ve easily contacted you before the break between school years began. Wanting more out of him, you stayed silent, still trying to figure out what exactly you were feeling at that moment.

“I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure of it, but Suhyeon told me your initials about three months ago. That’s when my friends found out and started hounding me to tell you.”

Suhyeon? Last you checked, she was horrified by the thought of even being near the golden boys, let alone speaking to them. In what situation would she have been around them without you, especially given that she was talking to them? It seemed Lee Jeno was the sort of person who answered a question by creating more, which was something you didn’t appreciate in the slightest.

“So why now, then? You obviously weren’t in a hurry.”

He took another slow, awkward sip of his coffee, and, if you weren’t insane, it seemed like he was nervous to you. That ignited a sense of pride in you, and you wanted to assume most people would never stress Lee Jeno out in their lives. At the same time, you wanted to hurry things up and leave so that you wouldn’t have to think about him until you needed to.

“I have a family dinner next week, and my dad…my dad wants me to start talking to Lim Nayeong because he thinks I should marry her. No offense to Nayeong, but I’d rather die than marry her right out of high school, and you’re…the only way I can convince him otherwise.”

The room went dead silent. You were unsure how to respond to a declaration like that without being mean, and, with the quirk of your lips, you couldn’t help but allow the flood gates to open.

“I’m sorry, but how in the world am I supposed to help? In what world is marriage to me more advantageous? I'm a random hick from the countryside who got lucky and struck it big. If anything, I’d make your father more inclined to marry you off.” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at how ridiculous this was, a hand hovering over your mouth and your eyes filling with laughter-born tears. Jeno stared at you incredulously, not even reacting to your sudden outburst in the slightest.

“I’m sorry man, but you might be better off taking literally anybody else with the same initials as me. I’m not the help you need.”

“So you wouldn't care if your soulmate married someone else?”

The undertone of anger in his voice washed away your laughter in an instant, nearly making you jump. You dropped your hand to your lap, sighing—you wondered if you’d end up pouring out your whole life story to him tonight. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet my soulmate in hopes that they’d be some knight in shining armor. After these midterms, though, I’m thinking my scholarship is going to be revoked and I’ll be back to the land in the poor and underprivileged. Sorry, Jeno, but, once again, you’d be better off picking somebody else to bring along. I'm not going to let myself fall in love with something painfully unrealistic, even if that something is my universal other-half.”

Jeno seemed to be exasperated at every word that left your mouth, and you weren’t sure how you were meant to handle the increasing hostility that was starting to emanate from your supposed soulmate. The more things went south, the more you wanted to laugh and scream at yourself for thinking your soulmate would be some prince from a foreign land. You were so childish, thinking you’d get anything out of the whole ‘soulmate’ ruse—at least you’d be paid off after Nayeong got married to Jeno. Then, you might be able to emancipate yourself with a good lawyer and blackmail the Lees into more money for a nice, Seoul apartment to rent.

“Okay. Let’s make a bet, then. If you score over me in four out of the six subjects, you’ll be in my car on the way to my parents’ house next Friday. Deal?”

Even with your continued top-five status on the class leaderboards, you don’t think you’d ever managed to score above Lee Jeno in four subjects. The only things you consistently dominated in were English, Literature, and History—you’d achieved first place in all three during every single exam season you’d had at the academy—and the rest—sciences, math, anything STEM—you barely achieved the top five rankings that were required of you.

For some reason, you were antsy to receive your test scores, now. You’d never made a bet on whether or not you’d do worse than somebody, ever. It was nearly exhilarating, and you now felt there was a reward to the end of your scholarship: at the very, very least, you wouldn’t have to attend a Lee family dinner with Lee Jeno, who you were finding to be very unpleasant.

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, standing up from the couch and looking down at him. “Deal.”

With that, you approached the rows of books, leaving Jeno to consider what he thought he'd accomplish by bringing you along to anything.

iv. and most of the titans would spend eternity there.

Three days into break, and you haven’t done much of anything. Suhyeon was out with her other rich friends, her “very own posse” as she liked to call it, and had spent the past couple of days staying off campus—it left you with a lot of time to think.

For the most part, you wondered what would happen in the unlikely case Jeno won your bet. You’d never had to speak to someone like that, someone who wasn’t a wealthy teacher or classmate—his parents were the real, unbridled deal. People who spent thousands every day, not blinking an eye at four-digit totals or the state of their bank account.

It scared you. A lot.

You could dish out a big word now and then, offer a cordial smile, or impress with your general knowledge of the world, but there was nothing about you that would impress a multi-billionaire. Not even a party trick or a joke you’d spent a million years formulating.

That fear, rivaling the fear of expulsion, was what brought you to your current position in the corner of the campus on a rarely-cleaned picnic table, your head in your arms and your eyes trained towards a rose bush. According to the clock on your phone, class rankings had been posted eleven minutes ago, and you had no intention of checking any time soon.

Win or lose, there was no positive for you, and you didn't like that. In any other circumstance, retaining the ability to attend classes here and gaining letters of recommendation was the best possibility for you, as it would be for anyone else. However, the world had to curse you with an old-money, top-elite soulmate rather than an honest, just-rich-enough-to-afford-tuition soulmate—you seriously had run out of luck when you procured the scholarship.

“Oh? What are you doing out here, Miss Honor Student?” Na Jaemin asked, scaring you at the suddenness of his appearance. You jerked up, looking towards him flustered and a bit embarrassed. He looked at you questioningly, his hands cupped and held near his chest.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I suppose you asking makes more sense,” he laughed, approaching one of the rose bushes you’d been staring at. “I found a bee crawling on the ground. Poor thing has a broken wing,” he hummed, reaching his hands out to a flower. You didn’t try and second guess his words, believing his alibi without needing any proof. Instead, you looked away, your stomach crawling at the thought of carrying a bee across campus like that. “Although, haven’t rankings been posted? Anyone would expect you to be first in line.”

“I’m not worked up over it or anything,” you mumbled, resisting the urge to put your head back down and block him out of your world. “Going now would just yield a bunch of crowding around a tiny bulletin board. It’s too difficult.”

“If you started walking now, I’d bet the crowd’s mostly dissipated,” he suggested, coming back around to where he could be in your line of sight. “Want to walk together?”

Feeling cornered, you stood up, brushing the dust and dirt off the bottom of your bag. Jaemin smiled satisfyingly, offering an arm for you to take. In the most non-discreet way possible, you pretended to not see the offer, brushing past him quickly. He didn’t let the act bruise his ego, though, following behind you in earnest. You wondered if, due to your relationship with his best friend, he felt the need to ensure that you had no ill feelings towards him; or, maybe, he resonated with you, as both of you started at the academy much later than most of your classmates.

“I heard the big reveal didn’t go as nicely as it could have,” he began, keeping pace with you almost perfectly. Your steps were completely in sync, and you couldn’t help but notice how he’d done it on purpose rather than coincidentally. Another thing you’d heard about Na Jaemin was that he was a robot, but most people were joking when they said that—maybe, they could’ve been right.

“Well, we’re not exactly the most chemical pair.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Jaemin said, lightly elbowing you in the arm. “He just doesn’t know how romance works. He’s all antsy right now because he told his dad to not invite Nayeong and her family to their very rare family dinners and used you as the excuse. I told him—I said, ‘Jeno, you can’t use your soulmate to get out of marriage unless you actually know your soulmate.’ And he got all pissy at me. I tried to make him make it the least bit romantic, but it sounds like he didn’t try at all.”

“He got me coffee.”

“Coffee is bitter and unromantic, though. I’d know.” Jaemin giggled, putting his arms behind his head. You approached the entrance to a corridor, which would effectively put you on the path to the bulletin. But, Jaemin took a sharp turn, leading you through the long way to get you there.

“Are you a ladies’ man? Romance-expert, or something?” you asked jokingly, not expecting any sort of genuine response. The closer you got to the truth made you start to get nervous again, words getting stuck at the top of your throat, impossible to speak yet impossible to swallow back down.

“Maybe I am.”

Jaemin looked towards you, giving you a look that you were half sure was him reading your mind and learning everything he possibly could about you. He was incredibly good at blending into you, even if you hadn’t talked much; everything he said coaxed more out of you, and every movement created a new line of conversation.

Every rumor you’d heard about him—so good at befriending people that it’s scary, a perfect speaker, the most eloquent student at the school—was proving to be true. He was monstrous, somebody you surely wouldn’t want to have on your bad side.

“You and I are similar, you know,” he said, tearing his away from you to look towards the door to the main school building. He opened it for you, waiting for you to enter before he did himself.

“How so?”

“My family’s new to this whole ‘rich and famous’ thing,” he began. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he looked up to the ceiling. His eyes glittered like stars, reflecting everything they saw to a T. “We’re, like, the ultimate definition of new money. My dad hit it big with Jeno’s dad, got on his good side, and became the chair of a subsidiary…so I’m in a limbo of sorts.”

“God, I wish my dad hit it big with Jeno’s,” you snorted, picking at the nail polish coating your fingers. “Is that why you came in at the beginning of high school rather than earlier?”

“My dad wanted me to experience a little bit of what he did, at the very least. Both my mom and dad thought it’d be too much if they moved me from here to a normal high school, though…thus, the order.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of fear as you turned a corner and a crowd of whispering teenagers came into view. Your conversation with Jaemin ended the moment they did, instead making way for what, no matter what, would be the worst moments of your life so far.

The moment you reached the crowd, people began to stare at you, whispering under their breaths as they passed. It was like being the center exhibit at an expensive art show, being a piece made entirely for public reaction. The more you walked, the more the red sea parted, giving you a clear path to the bulletin board. Within seconds, you’d reached it, scanning from the bottom up.

Number two was Jeno, to no one’s surprise. In order, his rankings had been second for English, second for history, second for literature, first for math, second for science, and second in his elective.

One above him was you.

First in English. First in history. First in literature. Second for math. First for science. First for your elective.

At that moment, you could’ve passed out. You stared at the line of ones (and a single two) in front of you, wondering how in the world you achieve something like that. For the past two years, you’d battled against private tutors and possible instances of cheating, always barely being able to hit the mark for every single subject. You never struggled in any of the humanities, but…second in math after your catastrophe of a test and first in science—physics specifically—felt like an absolute lie to you.

It felt unreal. It felt like you’d become the kids whose parents paid for their grades, who spent hours with private tutors that cost hundreds of thousands of won per hour. It felt like, somehow, you’d hit a peak even though you were only seventeen.

Your ears seemed to open, hearing everything the students around you said. “She’s never let Lee Jeno pass her once,” someone said, whispering to their friend.

“Do you think she gave him math as a pity grade? I heard they were in the same time slot last Thursday.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to figure things out amongst the chatter. Every word that came out of your peers' mouths was a word that clouded your mind, creating new ideas that you’d never once considered.

“She’s a commoner and she’s beating Lee Jeno. That ought to hurt the Lee name, right?”

Since when have you become Jeno’s rival? For a simple stroke of luck on a few tests? You felt like you were going insane, your feet cemented to the floor and your hands shaking from the rush of adrenaline, mixed with an intense and sudden wave of relief, that came with reading your scholarship was intact.

“Protip,” Jaemin said, grabbing your attention with ease. He seemed to drag you back down to Earth, returning you to the pedestal on which you were expected to carry the world. “There’s only one thing that’ll put you above the title of student council president and daughter of a filthy rich tech couple, and that’s this.”

“Nayeong ranks first every year, too. This’ll barely help.”

“I don’t think so,” Jaemin chuckled. You looked at him, raising an accusatory brow; he mirrored your expression, looking down at you with eyes that sparkled with mischief and utter madness. “Miss Nayeong ranked seventh this time around.”

v. unlike his fellow titans, atlas had a different punishment.

There wasn’t a single word to be shared between you and Jeno, and you couldn’t ever see yourself getting to a point where there was.

After he’d sent you a text—where he got your number, you’re unsure—asking for your general clothing measurements, then dropping off a dress with a price tag you never, ever wanted to face again, you hadn’t spoken a word to each other.

Even as you climbed into the sleek, black car that waited for you about a couple of blocks away from campus, he didn’t so much as greet you, deciding that telling the driver to get going was a much better use of his time. For the man who got so upset when you showed little to no care about your soulmate status, you were quite surprised at his unwillingness to speak to you.

A part of you wanted to keep up the silence, to ignore the slight tug in your heart and the fact that you needed to know at least something about him so his parents didn’t get suspicious, but you weren’t going to embarrass yourself with him. Especially not in front of the moneybags that he called parents.

So, when you reached about ten minutes before your estimated time of arrival at a fancy hotel (rather than his house, which was the former location of this family dinner), you began to fiddle with your handbag, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper.

“This is my transcript thus far,” you said, breaking the silence between you two. He looked away from the window, staring down at the hand that carried the paper. “Someone told me your dad was big on grades. Thought it’d be useful for your argument.”

He pulled it from your fingertips, much gentler than you’d assume from Lee Jeno, and his eyes lingered on your hands. You’d painted your nails for the occasion, wiping off the half-chipped coat you previously had on in favor of a nicer, more sophisticated color. It matched the dress well, along with the makeup you’d begged Suhyeon to help you put on without telling her the occasion for it.

“Nice job on the nails,” he commented, looking away from them and putting the folded piece of paper in his pocket. “You look expensive.”

“Is that not the goal?”

“That’s precisely the goal. I need you to look like I dote on you,” Jeno mumbled, dropping his hands into his lap. “Sorry, but I’m going to really play up the scholarship student thing.”

“No worries. I understand not wanting to marry someone you don’t know.”

The more you thought about it, the more you began to pity him. Worrying about a money-based arranged marriage was a very first-world-problems-esque issue to be having, you could respect that it was something he didn’t want. You just wished he was asking you to be his scapegoat as a lie rather than as a reality—you’d feel much better if you were pretending to be his soulmate.

“I don’t think my father will be too interested in the details of our relationship, he’ll just want proof you’ll be able to measure up to Nayeong,” Jeno said, ignoring your earlier comment. “Activities, grades, I don’t care what, play up everything about yourself. He doesn’t care about in-laws, he cares about the money you can bring in.”

“Wow, sounds like a lovely man.”

Jeno cleared his throat, made uncomfortable by your short quip. “He is when he’s not talking about his paycheck.”

To you, it sounded like Jeno was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you, but you weren’t in the mood to pry. Instead, you looked out the window once again, cringing at how snowy and cold it looked outside. You were going to freeze in this dress, even when you were wearing insulated tights underneath, even when it was long-sleeved and pretty thick.

When the hotel came into view, you embarrassingly recognized it as a place many social media celebrities enjoyed coming to. In your few moments of off time, you were sure you’d seen the outside in a few lifestyle vlogs or food review videos. It was fairly trendy; you had to give Jeno’s parents props for that.

Opposite to your reaction, Jeno scoffed at the sight of the luxury inn, evidently unsatisfied with it. “Of course she’d pick here,” he murmured to himself. You wondered if his siblings—who were going to be attending as you’d learned this morning—had been in charge of picking the restaurant, which would make more sense given its online reputation. He shared that he had two younger sisters and a younger brother, all of whom weren’t in high school yet, so you’d never met them or seen them before.

The driver pulled up to the extravagant porte-cochere—the fancy driveway outside of a hotel, which Suhyeon had taught you the name of—and slowed to a stop, but neither you nor Jeno moved.

“Remember,” he said, putting on the coaching voice he used to relay this to you earlier. “My mom will be the weak spot, so focus on her more than my dad. We both need to fight when my father grows argumentative, but you need to be more tactical and logical. My siblings will be on our side so don’t try to make a case to them.”

“What are their names again?”

“In order, Yeojin, Soeun, and Sunwoo.”

You recited their names, wondering why Jeno had received such an odd name compared to the rest of them. Nevertheless, you made the first move to exit the stationary car, regretting it the moment the night air hit your skin. A deep chill cemented itself in your stomach, and you began to wonder how it managed to be so unimaginably cold at all. Jeno followed behind you, mumbling something else as he joined you outside.

You briefly considered how this was going to go, given you’d never tried to act like you were in love with someone before. You were sure Jeno was a pro at fabricating things, plastering on disingenuous smiles and acting interested in the monetary, arrogant talk of wealthy adults. The most you’d done was work at your local convenience store for a summer.

The moment he joined up next to you, he linked his arm with yours, and you were off. You were thankful for the warmth you received from him, even if it was slightly uncomfortable given your situation. You preferred being warm over being comfortable in most situations.

The doors slid open automatically, leading you into a world entirely separate from your own. You tried to suppress the urge to ogle at everything, to approach the plants that lined the lobby and check if they were real, to run for the sole purpose of hearing your heels clack against the marble floor. You kept your jaw screwed shut and your eyes forward, even if all you wanted to do was “ooh” at the chandeliers on the ceiling.

You’d never forget this moment. Being a customer at a place you’d exclusively seen through rich influencers’ and celebrities’ social media felt ridiculous.

One glance up was all you allowed yourself—a simple, lingering stare—but it put you in last place anyway. When you looked back down, there was a girl, no older than 15, sprinting towards you, a big smile on her face. Jeno dropped your arm and pulled the girl into a hug, a smile blooming on his face as he did. You’d never seen him smile so genuinely in your life.

Another girl came forward as well, but she came slower, more timidly. She was certainly younger than the other girl, maybe around 11 or 12, with her hair done much simpler and her clothes much more juvenile. She passed by Jeno and (who you assumed to be) his sister, stopping in front of you. “Um, hello,” she said. You smiled, assuming this was when your grand performance was to begin.

“Hello there,” you replied, feeling a surge of confidence run through you. “Soeun, right?”

Her eyes practically doubled in size for a moment, and you hoped that meant your leap-in-the-dark guess had been correct. “Um, yeah. You’re [First], right?”

“That would be me, yes.”

Soeun opened her mouth to speak, but Yeojin quickly cut her off by dragging you into a highly unwelcome hug. You ignored the discomfort, reaching your arms around her and giving her a few awkward pats. “It’s so fun to meet you!” Yeojin squealed, and you briefly wondered how long Jeno had been telling his family about you before he directly told you.

“Yeojin,” Jeno said, a warning-esque tone in his voice. “Lay off a bit.”

You felt her freeze and then she immediately let go of you, practically pushing her off. A hand covered her mouth—her nails were perfectly manicured, done much better than your self-painted ones—and she gasped, and now you felt a bit overwhelmed by her. Soeun, to Yeojin’s side, looked away, her eyes shiny and a bit saddened; while she certainly wasn’t living a life anything similar to yours, you could see yourself in her, a bit.

“Sorry, I forget we’ve never met. You’re, like, big news on the lower grade campus,” Yeojin said. “Among the second years, you’re like a superhero or something. First place without a tutor! Rare, one-in-a-million scholarship student! I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.”

Well, that was certainly something you didn’t want to hear. Yeojin was already the type of person you couldn’t handle well, if the past few minutes were anything to go off of, and she’d shared mildly upsetting information with you already. You didn’t want to be popular among middle schoolers at all.

“That’s nice, I suppose. Maybe a bit worrying,” you joked, and Yeojin seemed to think you were a comedian by the way she laughed. Jeno looked at you both, obviously sensing your lack of social capability. and chose that moment to switch the attention to Soeun.

“Do you want to lead us to our table, Soeun?” he asked, taking your arm into his once again. Now that you were in the warm, heated hotel, the gesture only made you feel uncomfortable rather than warmed. If you were eating outside, maybe you’d be able to handle any skinship he initiated to make your relationship seem more believable—you supposed that either way, you signed up for this.

Yeojin squealed at you two, though, which made everything about this so much less worth it. After being surrounded by high schoolers and adults for two entire years, you’d forgotten how insufferable 14-year-olds were, and, somehow, Yeojin had managed to assume the worst form of 14-year-old possible. You felt bad for her older self, who would, inevitably, look back on this period of her life with misery rather than fondness.

Soeun took the lead as she was asked to do, shuffling her feet across the marble flooring. It didn’t take long for Yeojin to take the lead, beginning to chatter on about something you managed to tune out pretty quickly. You took the time to gaze at the beauty around you, from intricate flower pots to huge pieces of art that lined the walls. This felt fake, almost, and you wondered how you’d managed to get this lucky with the game of fate. If only a future between you and Jeno felt plausible.

Soeun (more so Yeojin) led you up a set of marble stairs, and then, into a long, dimly lit corridor. It was filled with paintings and lined with the most beautifully-installed marble you’d ever seen. Then, you reached the door at the end, which was made of glass and had insanely intricate carvings on it. Along with that, it had the words “The Aviary” engraved onto the one empty spot among the carvings.

You felt faint. For a moment, you wondered how much Jeno’s parents’ bill would be for this meal, and then you decided to mentally scold yourself for even wondering that in the first place. Yeojin pushed the door open, letting both you and Soeun pass.

The Aviary was, quite possibly, the fanciest restaurant you’d ever been in. It had chandeliers everywhere and thin, walkable carpet on the floors, along with more art that lined every inch of the wall it possibly could. Every table had a pure white table cloth and velvet chairs, each one already perfectly set with a million different utensils and candles that lined the span of it. Soeun continued to lead you deeper into the restaurant. past waiters and tables and windows that showed a more elevated view of Seoul than you were expecting.

You must’ve missed scaling such a massive hill when you were on your way here, mostly due to the internal panic you were fighting off the entire time. You tried to suppress your ogling again, looking towards the floor and hoping you didn’t look like an absolute idiot.

Soeun then led you through a door and into another hallway, this one lined with several doors. She approached the one at the edge once again, and Yeojin beat her to the door again, opening it and waiting for you to enter.

You were instantly hit with the view of Lee Jeno’s father, who looked like your biggest fear. Next to him was his wife, Jeno’s mother, and a few chairs down was a boy who seemed to be about 15 as well, absorbed in his phone and dead to the world.

It kind of felt like you were about to undergo the reckoning, and your final opponents were every relevant religious figure. Every breath that escaped Jeno’s parents’ lips was revered and every blink was well documented, every lost eyelash and every slight movement was taken note of. It’d be accurate to say that Jeno’s parents were more important than the prime minister—they brought in the money and held up the economy, while all the prime minister did was sit and twiddle his fingers.

“You must be [First],” Jeno’s mother said, standing. A small smile graced her features, one that looked and felt apologetic. One glance at the man next to her told you all you needed to know about why she might’ve been apologetic.

“Yes,” you nodded, smiling back. You pulled your arm from Jeno’s, giving her a deep bow; most of the time, you’d learned those wealthier (and older) than you enjoyed the robotic, hardly-genuine signs of respect that most other adults in your life had abandoned. When you stood up straight again, you were pleased to see the impressed glint in her eyes.

“I’m Jeno’s mother,” she introduced, although you found it to be a bit redundant.

“It’s lovely to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard much about you.”

You hoped she didn’t inquire about any knowledge of their family, as, other than basic facts and events, you knew next to nothing about their personal lives. Jeno’s mother took a seat, motioning to the chairs in front of her and her husband. You allowed Jeno to pull your chair out, internally questioning whether or not anyone had ever pulled your chair out for you.

The velvet seats were more comfortable than any seat you’d ever owned, from your desk chair at school to the lousy, old couch back at your parents' house. You couldn’t imagine how much they’d cost the restaurant, given that every single table had a set of at least four. Even if Jeno’s dad stared at you like you were the grossest, most disgusting thing you’d ever seen, at least you’d get to sit in this chair and eat the restaurant’s food.

“It’s lovely to see you again too, dear,” Mrs. Lee said, giving Jeno a new type of smile. This one was much different than the one she’d offered you—everything about this one carried a mother’s warmth, a mother’s love, drenched in such intense care that nothing could shake it. Jeno could’ve entered this restaurant in his unwashed gym clothes and she would’ve offered the same smile, unchanged and unshaken.

“Mother,” Jeno greeted with a nod. Then, he turned to his father and extended a steady glare. His father glared back, and, as Yeojin and Soeun took their seats next to Sunwoo, a subtle air of war settled over the table. There would be nothing pleasant about this dinner, even if the food was perfect and the view was delightful.

You took the moment of silence to remind yourself that this was not much of a dinner, rather, it was a challenge. A test to see if you were worthy to wed to Jeno one day, and a challenge to see if you could keep up the perfect-soulmate act to void any sort of marriage contract to Nayeong.

“Mr. Lee,” you said, taking the initiative to speak to your strongest opponent. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, as well. Jeno speaks of you very highly.”

When he looked toward you, your blood ran cold. His stare, now protruding into your eyes rather than the side of your head, was icy and unwelcoming like you’d just beat him in a lawsuit or nothing. He was an unbreakable wall, and you told yourself that you only needed to find the single crack that was caused by love for his eldest son as if it would be easy.

“You’re the academy’s charity case for Jeno’s year, correct?”

Ouch. What an obvious insult, among the many he could’ve thrown at you—you were almost impressed that he didn’t even try to hide his hostility. You’d thought that, at the very least, he’d try to maintain his usual TV persona, but maybe you overestimated your worthiness of receiving that sort of respect. Before you could smile and tell him, yes, you are the charity case, Jeno flared up, ready to spit false fire at his father.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn't call my girlfriend a charity case, Father,” Jeno spat, eyes narrowed. You instinctively put a hand on his shoulder, figuring this would be a good, caring gesture given the situation. Being called somebody’s girlfriend felt foreign, but you supposed it wouldn’t be the best idea to disclose that. After all, this would likely be your one chance to impress him, if you had to guess. You were well acquainted with the idea of being a charity case, hell, you agreed.

“No, he’s right. If they didn’t have to maintain their image, they wouldn’t have the scholarship exams at all,” you said, keeping your eyes on Jeno’s father. Slowly, you dropped your hand from his shoulder, leaning back on the chair and ignoring the pounding of your heart. “Nevertheless, I am fully confident in my abilities. I deserve to be at a school like the academy. Even if I must endure a title like ‘charity case.’”

Jeno’s father turned his eyes towards Jeno and then back at you, the glare never faltering. You wondered how a single man harbored so much malice, and how Jeno saw his father in a good light. He seemed bitter and controlling, angry that his son—his next-of-kin, the boy who would one day be the king of his corporate kingdom—refused to marry a woman he did not know, right out of high school.

He did not say anything in return to your response, rather, picking up his delicately folded, fabric napkin and unraveling it to place on his lap. You mimicked his actions, remembering how Suhyeon once mentioned that you shouldn’t do something until the lead of the table has (among many other things she decided to recite to you one late night, so you could’ve been completely off the mark with that one). However, judging by the way everyone else seemed to do the same shortly after you, you assumed you guessed right.

“Jeno shared that you’re quite the prodigy, though, [First]. I mean, to be able to hold your own amongst children who have top-notch private tutors and spend all their time studying…I couldn’t imagine doing something like that,” Jeno’s mom said, trying to salvage what her husband destroyed. “If you weren’t so busy with your own schoolwork, I’d hire you to tutor the girls.”

“I’m honored you’d entrust me with furthering your children’s education,” you smiled, picking up the glass of water that was filled before you came in. You attempted to hold it as daintily as possible, taking the shortest, most sophisticated sip you could muster.

“Is that not what’s expected of her, though?” Jeno’s father was apparently determined to ruin your day, likely to destroy what little confidence you had and remove you from the academy (and Jeno’s life) completely. “It’s not impressive when she is merely fulfilling what is asked of her.”

You pondered what might’ve put his father on edge so quickly. You’d barely spoken to this man at all, let alone been in the same room as him, and he was already determined to get rid of you. Perhaps that was why he moved the dinner location from his home to here—he didn’t want this to be an official “meet-the-parents” event. He wanted it to be a family dinner without your presence at all.

You figured he would be thrilled to hear that you and his son likely had no future together.

“Is she not going above and beyond? If she was just meeting the scholarship requirements, why is she first place instead of fifth?” Jeno questioned, leaning back in his chair. You looked over, and, from the expression on his face, Jeno seemed actually upset. His ears were tinged red and his face was tight, and, with a quick once over, you could see that his fists were clenched and his shoulders were fairly tight.

To be honest, you couldn’t blame him. If you had to listen to your father reject your soulmate in favor of a random girl you barely knew, you’d be pretty pissed off too, no matter your relationship with your soulmate.

“Because she spends every second of the day with her head in a book, Jeno. Not because she has natural talent, or because she’s the prodigy your school claims she is,” he fired back. If you held any respect for Jeno’s father, you’d be utterly destroyed; luckily, you had no respect for any man that ran a company that was hinged on the work of underpaid laypeople, so you were unscathed by his words. “Nayeong is student council president, holds herself in the top five, does service whenever she can…and your little soulmate is relying on her connection to you to make anything of herself.”

You audibly snorted at that, raising an eyebrow. “I am?” you questioned, crossing your legs. A sick sense of amusement filled your chest, along with a burst of confidence. “With all due respect, sir, I did not aim for my scholarship with the intent of striking gold with my soulmate or significant other. I aimed for it because the only way I can make anything of myself is with my grades, because my mother didn’t give birth to me on a bed of cash.”

Jeno began to speak right after you, not granting any time for his father to reply to you. “Besides,” he said, slamming two pieces of paper—unfolded and crinkled—onto the table. “Nayeong got seventh this year.”

His father scanned over the papers, which you realized were both yours and Lim Nayeong’s transcripts. Yours, from where you sat, had nothing but ones, twos, and the occasional three or four, while hers had fours, fives, and even nines, without a single one in sight. Nayeong’s grades were nothing to be ashamed of given how busy she was with everything else, but next to yours, they didn’t measure up in the slightest.

It made you feel embarrassed. It made you want to say, “there is still not much of a difference between Nayeong and me, I just scored a few points more.”

“So compared to a girl with sevens, a student council position, and a respectable family,” Jeno’s father said slowly, returning to his complete ignorance of you. “You’d rather spend the rest of your life with a poor, unsightly girl who has slightly impressive grades, alcoholic parents, and a drug-addicted brother in prison?”

Your blood ran cold. Jeno’s jaw clenched, and his mother gasped, turning towards her husband and slapping his shoulder. “You promised me you wouldn’t bring that up—” she began but was quickly cut off by Jeno standing so suddenly that his chair fell over, banging against the ground and causing everybody to flinch. You looked up at him, an emptiness spreading through your chest.

“Talk to my girlfriend like that again,” he began, clenching his fists so hard that his hands began to shake. “And I will end you.”

He didn’t waste a moment turning towards the door, throwing it open, and marching out. You stood up quickly, albeit much more gracefully, draping the fabric napkin over the back of your chair and racing out of the room without another word. You didn’t look back, keeping your eyes on Jeno’s shrinking figure and walking as fast as you could without speeding up to a run. You sped through the restaurant, out into the lobby and past all the glitz and glamor of the hotel. By the time you caught up to him, Jeno was standing outside in the empty entry area, typing furiously on his phone.

“You—you didn’t have to blow up like that. I mean, we were just acting, and I can’t say I wasn’t expecting him to know.”

Jeno turned towards you, scoffing. “I just don’t get it.”

“Huh?” You tilted your head, wondering why he sounded so…mean. Angry, even.

“You’re perfect,” he said, looking up at the darkened sky. The lighting from the hotel entrance lit up his face, every feature and every imperfection (although scarce) perfectly on display, but you could’ve sworn the stars were what lit up his eyes. They sparkled like fireworks, the kind that was loud and Earth-shaking. “Everything about you. You’re pretty, you’re perfectly intelligent, you know how to speak to people and you know how to get your point across. You know when to smile and when to not. You know how to meet new people and try new things.”

You were confused. He launched compliment after compliment at you, but he sounded almost…bitter about it. Like he was unhappy you were all those things.

‘Um…” you mumbled, but couldn’t find the words to respond. You just stared, waiting for him to say anything, feeling the cold dive deeper into your skin—under your skin—and each shiver become more intense.

“There’s not a single thing you don’t beat me in but money. So what if you have terrible parents and an awful family, because you’re the picture-perfect poster girl—hell, you’re more than that. You have the perfect underdog story too, and he still hates you. He still prefers that—that witch,” he rambled, looking down and kicking a pebble that was next to his feet. “What does that mean for me? If you’re so terrible, so average despite your grades and your reputation, does that not mean I’m a failure of a son?”

“What? Jeno, I think you’re overreacting—”

“Oh, am I?” he turned, shoving his hands into his blazer pockets. “You’ve been ahead of me from the moment you stepped onto that god-forsaken campus, and you’ve given me, what, math as reparations? Every year, I have to use the excuse that I have the scholarship student to compete with, and that’s why I’m not the perfect top of the class, but he views you as obsolete. Doesn’t that mean I’m worse than obsolete? Huh?”

“Well, other than the fact that you’re agreeing with him,” you said, crossing your arms. “What does it matter what he thinks? Even if he gives his business to one of your siblings, you’ll still be drowning in cash. So what if you get married to Nayeong? Just cheat on her, or something, because, if she’s such a witch,” you paused, emphasizing your distaste with his nickname for her, “won’t she do the same?”

“How are you so okay with this?” he asked, raising his voice in the slightest. “You found out I was your soulmate and you didn’t even try to make a connection. You were okay with me using you to sidestep my father’s plans for me, you were okay with him relentlessly insulting you until it had something to do with your private life—why?”

“Why? Would you like it if a man you’d never met brought up your terrible at-home life and decided to equate it to you being terrible? I know my strengths, I know who I am, but it’s not very nice to be compared to 4 siblings who didn’t even attempt university and parents who barely work,” you replied, wondering why he was getting so upset. Minutes ago, he was spewing lines straight out of a drama, but now he was mobilizing against you, too. The worst part was that you couldn’t match his energy at all—maybe it was reactionary to the fact that you no longer had to sit through a dinner with his parents, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel angry.

You were realizing that Jeno viewed you as a rival, while you never had. Before the past week, he was just another golden boy, one of the boys Suhyeon hated, one of the fancy popular boys you’d never talk to. It seemed as though he’d viewed you as an opponent from your first round of exams.

You felt bad, for some reason—guilty even. As if this was something you were meant to feel guilty for. You couldn’t imagine Jeno had been exactly thrilled when he found out you were his soulmate—judging by how long it took him to tell you, he wasn’t thrilled at all—and yet he was acting like you’d ruined his life.

You didn’t get it.

“You’re ridiculous.” Jeno laughed breathily, pacing around a bit. All you could do was watch, even when a car pulled up in front of you, likely for him to make his grand escape. “Jaemin was wrong. This was never going to work.”

“Did you ever think it was?” you rose a brow, suppressing a shiver that was beginning to creep down your back. “Sorry, Jeno, but we were destined for destruction. Even if we tried to foster something, that wouldn’t stop my parents from approaching the tabloids, and it wouldn’t stop the tabloids from painting me as a money-grabbing asshole. Count your blessings, okay? You’ll have everything and more. A loveless marriage is the least you need to deal with.”

He spun towards you, narrowing his eyes. “Just because I have money or a fancy house does not mean my life will be easy.”

You widened your eyes, nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”

“Just—just get in the car. Leave, please.”

You turned towards the sleek, black car that was parked beside you. Without another word, you walked towards it, throwing the door open and basking in the heat that emanated out of it. You got in, slamming the door behind you, and watched Jeno get smaller and smaller as the driver drove you farther and farther away.

vi. instead of being banished to tartarus,

Suhyeon knows.

You can tell by the way she interacts with you, by the way she avoids you in the halls and stays out of the dorm until she absolutely can’t anymore. You can tell by the way she doesn’t interrupt your incessant studying, reignited by the end of break and the beginning of a new term, with mindless hypotheticals and useless facts. You can tell by the way she slips into her fight-or-flight persona when she speaks to you, the same person when she’s near the golden boys.

Reasonably, you’ve also begun to believe she’s not telling you something. Maybe you’ve always believed that, but it’s to a much larger extent now; there’s something important she’s not telling you. You’ve also concluded she was aware Jeno was your soulmate, but, for whatever reason, she chose not to tell you.

You can’t bring yourself to feel angry, no matter what you do, no matter how much you think about it. It stresses you out, how numb you feel in regards to your situation, how numb you’ve felt for the past two years or so. All your energy, and, by extension, all your emotions, have been poured into your grades and your social standing among professors and academic greats. There’s nothing left over to feel something for your own misgivings, unless it’s about school or your future.

It’s miserable here. Everything is miserable. But, if you give up, if you stop going, you’ll be trapped under the thumb of your parents forever, and you cannot live like that. No matter what, you cannot live like that.

“I see what you’re saying, [First],” Dr. Choi hummed, writing a few things down on her clipboard. “If you want me to be entirely honest with you, there’s not a single student on this campus that’s gone through anything as tough as you’re going through. Even if they’re being forced into an arranged marriage, even if they’re underestimated and outcasted by their parents. At the end of the day, unless they’re kicked out—which they won’t be—nobody here will ever know ‘struggle’ like you do.”

You want to feel vindicated by Dr. Choi’s words, but you simply can’t. You feel tired, overworked and underappreciated, and want nothing more than to return to your dorm room and go to bed.

“But, this ‘numbness’ you’re feeling…you say you’ve felt like this for a while?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m not one to deny things—it’s not my job to deny things—but I can safely say that’s likely not the case. Before last week, you had a good work-life balance…mostly…and you were happy. You never came to my office because you didn’t need to,” Dr. Choi said, causing you to look up at her from the coffee table between you. Her gaze was distressing, halfway implying she knew something you didn’t.

“What do you mean?”

“It feels similar, sure, because the only thing stressing you out then was school. Now, there’s two things, but only one is stressing you out…and you say you can’t feel anything else. It’s because you’re rejecting your soulmate.”

“Excuse me?”

“As far-fetched as it sounds, it’s true. Biologists like to say the concept of soulmates is nigh useless, and that the only thing denoting it is the little marking on your body, but…cognitive science says otherwise. Think of Jeno as half of your brain—the feeling part of your brain—and you’re the functioning part. He’s feeling too many emotions right now, and you’re feeling none, while he’s likely having trouble finding the motivation to do much of anything,” she explained. “It’s certainly not impossible to live without your soulmate, but rejecting them is a bit different. You’ll get over it one day, or you won’t, but for now it’ll be awful.”

You stayed silent, looking back down at the coffee table. You supposed it made sense, and she was right, you hadn’t worried about much other than your grades for the past two years. Your parents and family were always buzzing in the background, heightening your school stress by proxy, especially right now.

You didn’t like seeing Dr. Choi because it felt like she could never understand you, but perhaps she was making a solid point right now.

“So I just have to wait?”

“Yes. But, if you want my honest opinion, I don’t think anyone should attempt to reject their soulmate at 17,” she sighed, writing something else down on her clipboard. “You don’t know what love is, or what this is supposed to feel like. You feel like the world is ending because you’re not having the ‘love at first sight’ situation the TV tells you about. Try to form a relationship with him, even if it’s just a friendship, and don’t cut him out entirely. You’ll probably regret it later on.”

You doubted that, but you nodded like you were agreeing with her. She put her clipboard down on the table, allowing you to see your printed name and then tons of incomprehensible scribbles that only Dr. Choi could read. “Time’s up for today, unfortunately, as I have another student coming in. Don’t tell her I said she doesn’t know what struggle is, okay?”

You smiled hollowly, nodding. You stood up from the couch, picking up a hard candy from the bowl she kept on the table, considering that to be your reward for coming into the counselor’s office in the first place.

It was too bad you’d disregard all of her advice. At the end of the day, you were a teenager, and anything an adult said felt like an utter lie. You approached the office door, sliding it open and emerging into the hall. You wished the counselor’s office hadn’t been so far across campus, because now you had a far walk through the cold courtyard back to the dorm.

If they’d just put it in one of the class buildings rather than in the faculty building, your life would be much easier.

“Oh, [First]?”

You froze, turning your head to see the one-and-only Na Jaemin behind you. He sped up a bit, stopping as he reached your side. “Long time no see, genius. How are you?”

“Fine.”

You proceeded walking, as did he, keeping himself in step next to you. “Out of the counselor’s office? I heard once that they require you to go at least once a month for, y’know, academic stress. Rumor has it a scholarship student once offed himself because everything got too difficult.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rumor. It’s not required but every teacher encourages it more than I’d like them to,” you explained, unwrapping the pink hard candy and popping it in your mouth. Behind you, you heard the telling squeak of the counselor’s office door, and, out of curiosity, you turned to see who was going in after you.

Lim Nayeong. The coincidence could’ve made you laugh.

“It’s required for the student council, though. I guess being the quasi-leaders of the school is a bit harder than being the public reputation,” you joked, feeling the slightest bit relieved hearing Jaemin laugh in response.

“I guess so,” he replied, stopping you both at the elevator rather than the stairs. You sighed, suppressing the urge to say the stairs were always faster as he’d already pressed the shiny ‘down’ button. You could’ve walked off without him, but you weren’t an asshole, and if he wanted to walk with you, he could. The doors opened quickly, letting off a monotonous ‘ding’ as a result. Jaemin held his arm out, waiting for you to step inside before he did.

He was very gentlemanly, and you briefly considered that he was showing you his TV persona as an apology for not getting to receive Jeno’s father’s. Or, maybe, he was extending an apology from his own father, who somehow heard about how terribly you were treated.

“Look, Jeno didn’t mean it. He’s stressed about the thought of being tied down the moment he graduates, and he’s looking for every single way out. He thought you were a fool-proof plan, but he underestimated how far his father could go, and…well…”

It was more reasonable for Jaemin to be apologizing for Jeno. You weren’t very surprised that this was his main reason for talking to you, but you’d wished it would’ve been something more fulfilling than a secondary apology from Jeno.

“I don’t care. He can do what he wants, I’m not going to tell him how he can and can’t feel.”

“Okay, I’m gonna cut straight to the point,” Jaemin said, turning so that his whole body could face you. You gave him a judgmental look, wholly uninterested in whatever he was going to say to you. “Don’t reject Jeno now, all right? Wait until summer or something. For you, you just feel a little off, or, rather, you feel nothing at all, but this is practically overhauling everything in Jeno’s life. He nearly unfriended Donghyuck earlier because of a simple quip, and he can barely do anything without getting upset over it.”

“Do you think I can just…stop? I don’t feel any connection to him,” you said, hoping the elevator would hurry up. You cursed it for being so slow and old. “I don’t know what to tell you. I…I just don’t know.”

The lights on the elevator went off, and it jerked to a stop. You looked up, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re kidding me. Holy shit. You’re kidding me.”

You pressed your back to the wall of the elevator, sliding down to the floor. Jaemin didn’t say anything, but he pulled his phone out pretty quickly, typing frantically. You slid yours out as well, shocked to see a couple of texts from Suhyeon.

“hey where are you rn? we were just called down into the lounge,” read the first text. “god are you at the counselor’s office still? they’re not telling us what’s going on.”

You typed a quick response, saying you were still in the faculty building but the power went out as you were in the elevator. You hoped she didn’t question your elevator usage, putting your phone back into your pocket and ignoring the buzzing that ensued.

Jaemin was typing furiously from what you could see, the light from his phone being the only thing illuminating the elevator. He furrowed his brows, turning to look down at you. “Have you heard anything about what’s happening from anyone? None of my friends know, but they’ve all been gathered together for a while.”

“All I heard was that nobody was saying what’s happening.”

The moment you stopped talking, the lights flicked on, and the elevator began moving. You stood up, furrowing your brows as the floor counter turned from a “2” to a “1.”

When the doors opened, you were hit with a wave of heat and pure, black smoke. You began choking on the air, but Jaemin was fast acting and began to jam the “close door” button, along with the third floor button—where you’d just come from. The doors didn’t close fast enough, and the smoke began to spread into the elevator, making your eyes water and your lungs hurt. By the time the doors finally closed, there was enough smoke to keep you coughing, even if your shirt was haphazardly thrown over your mouth and nose.

The elevator began moving up, and a wave of panic blew through you. It broke through whatever invisible filter that had been causing you to feel numb for the past week or so, and a self-composed prayer fell past your lips, between coughs, over and over again: “please, go up, please, go up.”

The elevator seemed to move at a snail’s pace, but, as long as it was moving, you didn't care. Given how you’d just been up on the third floor, there was absolutely no way the fire had spread that far—the only issue was that there wasn’t exactly a staircase leading from the third floor down to the ground of the snowy outdoors.

“Someone’s setting the school on fire,” Jaemin said between coughs. “Some guy. Most everybody’s evacuated, but they apparently forgot us.”

“Maybe because they couldn’t get inside?” you shot back, feeling a wave of relief—not nearly strong enough to overpower the panic—when the “4” appeared on the screen. “Why the fuck didn’t the fire alarm go off?”

“Because this building is ancient and they’ve never thought to replace it,” Jaemin half-hissed. The doors opened to reveal a smokeless third floor, but, upon walking out, you learned the heat had reached the floor along with the scent of smoke.

“The counselor’s door is still closed,” you pointed out, not wasting a moment to begin walking that way. “They’re either still in there, or they found a way out.”

You refused to consider that they’d left and closed the door behind them, not wanting to believe you were stuck in a burning building with no way out. Suddenly, Jaemin slipped in a way that he slid, falling straight onto his back. You looked down at the floor, realizing it had been completely doused in what you could only assume was oil.

“No time to wait!” you exclaimed, bending down and grabbing Jaemin’s arm. You practically yanked him up from the floor, dragging him along with you while he stumbled trying to keep his footing. You made it to the counselor room’s door, throwing it open and rejoicing to the heavens that there was an open window.

You rushed towards it, letting go of Jaemin, who went back and slammed the door shut. You looked out of it, noticing Dr. Choi on the roof below it, helping Lim Nayeong get down to the ground. “Doctor!” you screeched, grabbing her attention. She looked up the moment Nayeong had made it to the ground, standing and turning towards you.

“Come on!” she yelled, waving her hands at you. Jaemin came up behind you, beginning to help you shove yourself through the small window in front of you. You mentally thanked him for lifting you up, allowing for you to go feet first rather than head first. You let yourself fall down to the rooftop, cringing at the pain in your ankle as you landed. You 

Dr. Choi rushed towards you, looking up at Jaemin, who began to extract himself from the building as well.

“What’s going on?” you asked, coughing out more of the smoke you inhaled earlier.

“Someone’s trying to burn down the school and they started with the faculty building first,” she said, a little too calm for the situation at hand. Jaemin landed in front of her, also wincing at the pressure it put on his legs. “We need to keep going. Come on.”

Nayeong was waiting at the bottom, standing next to a teacher you’d never seen before. The ground seemed far, too far for you to be happy about it, but you were assuming the way Nayeong made it down was thanks to the bushes that would’ve cushioned her fall. 

“You’re just coming down from the second story!” Nayeong yelled, reaching up at you. Dr. Choi gave you a slight push on the shoulder, to which you looked back at her like she was crazy. Jaemin didn’t wait, lowering himself to the roof. You watched as he, facing towards you, slid himself off, hanging onto the edge for a second. Nayeong rushed over, reaching up to help him safely get down to the ground.

“Kill me,” you mumbled, walking over to the edge. Slowly, you repeated Jaemin’s steps, feeling like you could barely move.

“You can do it, [First]!” Nayeong yelled, and you hoped she was holding her hands up like she had been before. You pushed yourself off, feeling the edge of the roof dig into your fingers as you began to hang off the edge. As fast as you’d begun hanging, though, two hands were on your calves, beckoning for you to let go.

So, you did. You hit the ground with a quiet crunch thanks to the snow, but an unexpected shooting pain traveled up your ankle and calf, causing you to nearly fall over into the snow. Jaemin caught you, but Nayeong looked at you, furrowing her brows.

“Are you okay?”

“I think my ankle is sprained,” you mumbled hoarsely, steadying yourself and pushing yourself away from Jaemin. You took your phone out of your pocket, staring at a wave of texts you’d received from Suhyeon, begging you to tell her you were okay and that you’d made it out. You shakily typed a short “I’m fine” before shoving your phone back into your coat.

Dr. Choi made it down from the roof, and both her and the teacher began walking in the direction of the parking lot. “Come on!” Dr. Choi yelled, leading you all away from the building that was still going up in flames. Your legs shook as the panic began to subside, and a mere glance back held an aura of complete death. The first two floors of the faculty building were covered in flames, likely not an ounce left of what once was in there.

The three students—you, Nayeong, and Jaemin—were led into Dr. Choi’s car, while the other teacher went and found his own. Jaemin sat in the front while you awkwardly sat next to Nayeong, trying to process what you had just gone through.

“I cannot believe,” Dr. Choi began, starting her car and wasting no time in flooring it out of the parking lot. As you drove out onto the street next to the school, you caught sight of a fire truck in the distance, speeding towards the school. “They didn’t even try to tell us. I thought you were gone for good, [First]. Oh my god.”

Nayeong didn’t say anything, keeping her hands in her lap and her eyes out the window. You wondered what would happen to your belongings, but you weren’t nervous about it reaching the second year building when it was on the farthest edge of campus.

Dr. Choi asked Jaemin to dial a number on her phone, to which he politely obliged. You took your phone out again, which yielded several texts from Suhyeon once again and a single text from someone else.

The moment the recipient of Dr. Choi’s call picked up, she began to scream at them, but you were easily able to drown out the yelling with your focus on the text on your phone.

“Are you okay?”

You wondered, briefly, where Jeno got your number.

“I’m fine.”

vii. zeus enslaved atlas

It took a total of two hours to arrive at the hotel in which the school evacuated all the students too, and you wondered why they had to pick a fancy hotel rather than one of the respectable ones that were actually near campus. You were met with a personal greeting from the principal, who was trying to save his ass after essentially leaving the four of you (and more, most likely) for dead.

Dr. Choi didn’t waste a second to begin screaming at him some more, but you blew past her with Nayeong, who still hadn’t spoken to you but was sticking to your side practically. There was a sort of trauma-bonding between you two now, apparently, which was a bit ironic given both of your situations.

You’d been placed in a hotel room with Suhyeon, as according to your current rooming arrangements, and were told to wait in your rooms until there was more information to be distributed amongst the students. Nayeong parted from you when this happened, taking her key and disappearing off into a corridor. You chose to take the other one, walking past several students who had disregarded the plea to stay in the rooms and were now gossiping in the halls.

“I heard they might have to close the school down for a year,” somebody whispered, causing you to pause and nearly stop walking. Instead of stopping in the middle of the hall, you slipped your phone from your pocket, leaning against a wall and scrolling through random apps.

“Seriously? I guess that won’t be an issue, most of us can just transfer to another private school, but what about international and scholarship students?”

“I’m sure international students will be fine, but rumor has it the school might drop scholarship students—partial and entire. They’re scrambling to make sure their library is still intact, and, if it isn’t, they’ll need hundreds of thousands of won to restore it. They’ll never keep some upper middle class loser if it means they can keep their pride and joy safe and sound.”

There was a certain ache in your heart at that, but you were tired, and you felt like collapsing. It was funny how, just a couple weeks ago, you were panicking over your finals and doing anything to hang onto your 65-million scholarship, but, now, you didn’t feel anything. At least if you got dropped, it wouldn’t be a quasi-expulsion. You’d still have kept your pride, and your parents could complain to the school about how they had to actually pay for you, now.

You continued through the corridor, skipping the elevator for the stairs. You’d halfway forgotten what floor you were on—you’d either been told room 314 or room 414—but you weren’t too opposed to simply checking both. Holding your key up to the scanner would be enough to know, and it was unlikely the occupants of the other room would even know you tried.

Upon your ascent up the stairs, you were forced to remember the slight pain in your ankle, which had subsided greatly over the past few hours, and part of you wished you had used the elevator. The other part of you said you’d never take an elevator again, even if a gun was to your head. Each step was a testament to what you’d experienced over the past couple of years, culminating in these fleeting moments in which you had nothing left.

In a week, you supposed your dorm would be cleaned out, and you’d be hugging Suhyeon goodbye for the last time. Maybe a reporter would approach you, ask why the closing seemed so sudden, and you would tell them you almost burnt to death because they were too lazy to fix their smoke alarms. You’d tell them that the conditions to meet your scholarship were ridiculous, not because their students were too smart, but because their student’s parents had a million personal tutors at their beck and call.

You emerged onto the third floor, hit in the face with a strong scent of detergent and cleaning supplies, and began trudging through the halls. Given the couple of familiar faces—classmates you’d never spoken to before—standing next to a decorative table, you hoped the 300s were the second year floor and you didn’t have to walk up another flight.

The space between rooms was insane, and you couldn’t imagine what might be inside. A kitchen, a couch, and an entire fireplace, anything that a rich person required in their hotel room. They were much bigger than the dorms that people paid millions to live in, and this was all paid for by the school. For a brief moment, you considered your fancy, rich-person academy to be a scam—it was, you always knew it was—and wondered why they couldn’t build dorms like this. As you walked through the corridor, you realized how you barely had made it past five rooms, and wished they had picked a normal hotel for you to temporarily live in as they figured out how to break the news of your removal from the school.

You turned a corner, admiring a pretty bouquet in a terrible intricate vase that brought a smile to your face. You stopped, reaching your hands out to feel whether or not they were real and letting out a gasp of surprise when they actually were. The flowers were vibrant, yellows and purples and pinks all tied together with a wisp of baby’s breath, and perfectly taken care of; they couldn’t have been cut more than a day ago. The hotel must’ve had some sort of private gardens, as there was no way these were bought from a random flower shop down the street.

“[First]?”

The flowers lost their color, all at once. You stood up straight, looking towards Lee Jeno, who’d just so happened to find you right now.

“Jeno.”

He stared at you for a moment, his hair messy and his roots just beginning to show. He was dressed in lounge clothes, a t-shirt and black, baggy pants that looked about three sizes too big. If he didn’t say anything soon, you’d continue your trek to room 314, brushing past him and leaving him to stare at the blank wall behind you.

“Can we talk?”

“Okay.”

You turned towards him completely, crossing your arms over your chest. He cleared his throat, looking down at the floor for a moment. “Like, not in the hallway. My room…is just down the hall.”

“All right then.”

He stared at you for a moment more, halfway shocked you agreed. Maybe it was a side effect of the events of today—for a brief moment, you realized you didn’t know what time it was—from your counseling to the hours-long car ride you endured after what was likely the most traumatic moment of your life. You wanted to disappear, fall into a rabbit hole and wake up in Wonderland, where nobody would know who you were.

When he began to walk down the hall, turning his back to you, you followed, bidding your pretty bouquet goodbye. You walked deeper into the corridor, stopping at a room labeled “309.” It was at the edge of the corridor, with another hall connecting to it. You assumed 314 was down there, so it would at least be a short trip to your assumed hotel room.

Jeno tapped his keycard on the lock, a loud click accompanied by a green light resounding through your ears. He pushed the door open, heading inside and holding it open for you. As you walked in, you noticed an unfamiliar presence on the couch—Lee Donghyuck, the only golden boy you’d met before. During your first year, you’d done a group project together, you’d let him off for not doing any of his work, and you ended up vouching for him in front of the teacher; as a result, he’d gifted you a couple of candy bars and a swift thank you. “I’ll return the favor at some point,” he’d said, walking off without another word.

“Out,” Jeno said, keeping eye contact with Donghyuck. He stared up at his friend, eyebrow raised, before glancing at you.

“‘Sup, fire girl,” he said, standing from the couch. Donghyuck turned his attention to Jeno, giving him a stern, very-unlike-him glare. “You promised me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“Do you?”

With that, Donghyuck brushed past Jeno and you, emerging out into the corridor. The door slammed behind him, causing you to flinch somewhat. Jeno took a seat on the couch, right where Donghyuck was sitting, and motioned to the seat next to him. You obliged, sitting as far away from him as you possibly could and staring at him until he spoke.

“Are you doing okay?”

“No.”

“I’m…sorry you got left behind. I won’t lie, Suhyeon started crying so hard she needed to take her own car, and that worried me. A lot. I thought about things.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, looking down at his hands. “I wasn’t nice. I overreacted and was overly jealous. It’s my fault, so I apologize.”

“I understand,” you nodded. “If it’s any consolation, I’m jealous of you too.”

You leaned back into the couch, sighing. “Your family is so…picture perfect,” you began, trying to find the words to articulate your thoughts. “Sure, you have altercations, peculiar ones at that, but I could tell you were close. From the way you hugged Yeojin, to the way your mother looked at you…you’re living a dream I could only hope to have one day.”

He stayed silent, letting you talk. You figured you deserved as much, given how your day has been. “My parents are awful. I was the kid they didn’t want, and all my siblings are a lot older than me. As your dad said, one of them ended up in jail. I depend on this school to keep me away from them, so I can have a better life now rather than when I move out. Even then, I know they’ll harass me forever if I end up with a nice job with good money. You’ll never experience that.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, but you shook your head, rejecting it.

“No reason to be. I can’t change who my family is, but I can change the direction my life goes. That’s all that matters.”

You felt Jeno’s eyes on you, and, when you looked over, you found him looking at you. He was pretty, as he’d always been, even when he was dressed for bed. His hair fell into his eyes, and you mentally visualized him with black hair—he looked nice no matter what.

“You’re a very beautiful person, [First].” The comment brought heat to your cheeks and caused your heart to skip a beat, and you contemplated whether or not this was what Dr. Choi meant by not rejecting him. “If…if there’s any way, I’d like to make this work. I’d like to make us work.”

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. “I suppose that would be nice. I was unreasonable before, mostly because I don’t want people lessening my achievements because of who my soulmate is. Sorry.”

“I get it. My mom always told me that would happen if my soulmate ended up to be somebody ‘fiery,’ but I guess you aren’t really that,” he hummed. “You’re nice. Warm. I see why people speak so kindly about you.”

“Well…thanks. I guess.”

You looked forward, and a thought crossed your mind. Your heart dropped slightly as you deliberated whether or not it would be smart to tell him what you heard in the halls. Realizing that you’d likely be very far away from him if it ended up to be true, you knew that you absolutely had to if you wanted to create a relationship with your soulmate.

“Rumor has it the school’s gonna be canceling scholarships to bring more money in for repairs and reconstruction.”

“What? They wouldn’t cancel yours, right? I mean, you’re the only full-scholarship on campus—they can’t just kick you, can they?” he asked, scooting a bit closer to you unconsciously.

“Rumor says they’re going to cancel everybody’s scholarships,” you whispered, suddenly realizing the weight of that statement. “I’ll probably try to move in with my aunt in Seoul, go to fancy-yet-free prep school…if they do cancel it. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be around.”

Jeno went quiet, and you desperately held back the tears that were now pooling in your eyes. “I worked so hard for this, and it’ll all go to waste. Every bit of it.”

You hated how choked up you got at the thought of it, how pathetic you felt. But, Jeno didn’t seem to mind, as he hesitantly pulled you into a hug. For a moment, you both stayed there, basking in the fulfillment that came with being with your soulmate. You wondered if this is how your parents were before they grew into the monsters they were today—a couple of teenagers in love, happy with just being with one another.

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing your back softly. “We’ll get through it together. I’ll spend any amount of money to see you frequently, I’ll get out of class, whatever we need to build. I’d pay for your tuition, but…I don’t think you’d like that.”

“Not really, no,” you mumbled, shoving your head into the crook of his neck. “I just want to feel stable, for once in my life.”

“And you will, one day. I promise you will.”

You pulled away from him, staring at him for a moment. With a heavy sigh, you stood up, with him following close behind you. “I need to go see Suhyeon,” you said. The moment you said that, there was a sudden change in the air of the room—Jeno looked nervous, almost, as if you’d caught him in the act of something. “Go do that. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

You walked towards the door, giving Jeno one last look before emerging into the hall. You made sure to stop the door from slamming behind you, cushioning it with your hands. As you did, though, Lee Donghyuck appeared back in the hall, stopping when he saw you. The door clicked closed, and you both stared at each other, waiting for someone to speak.

He was wearing his uniform, but it was half taken apart, with a couple of his buttons unbuttoned and his tie loosened around his neck. His shirt was untucked and his blazer was nowhere to be found, and you assumed he’d done it pretty recently, given the lack of wrinkling. He held a bag of M&Ms that he likely got from a vending machine somewhere in the hotel.

“Did he tell you?”

“You mean apologize? Yeah.”

Donghyuck sighed, popping a couple M&Ms in his mouth. “Okay, don’t get mad at me for being the bearer of bad news. Jaemin was convinced Jeno shouldn’t tell you, but this might be the one time Jaemin is in the wrong. I know you’ve had the worst day of all worst days, but you cannot go any farther without knowing this. ‘Kay?”

You furrowed your brows, a sudden feeling of anxiety overtaking you. “What? What are you talking about?”

Even Donghyuck looked nervous, from how he fiddled with the hem of his shirt with his open hand to the way he shifted his weight between his feet.

“Until about six months ago, Suhyeon and Jeno were a thing.”

All the air was sucked out of your lungs at once, and your brain shut down immediately.

“She found out you two were soulmates about a year ago, but didn’t back down until Jeno’s dad shut it down because of his new deal with Nayeong’s family.”

You didn’t say anything. You just stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked. “They still talked until a month-and-a-half ago, when Jeno decided to shut it down himself. Chenle knocked some sense into him, and Suhyeon was essentially taken out of our circle. She did everything in her power to not let you know about her friendship with us, and avoided the shit out of us whenever you were around. When pale in the face and all that shit.”

You stayed quiet. A feeling of betrayal began to bubble in your stomach.

“Don’t…blame her or anything, though. Even if she was being an asshole, even if what she did was the worst possible thing she could’ve done, she and Jeno had been fostering it for nearly three years. Love—if you could even call it that—makes people stupid. She wasn’t thinking, and neither was Jeno, until Chenle snapped at him.”

Were you a rebound, or a way for him to stay close to Suhyeon without his dad knowing? Were you his way of getting over what you had stolen from him? How could Suhyeon do this to you, after forcing her fixation with soulmates on you for so long?

You turned away from the corner that you assume led to yours and Suhyeon’s room, walking past Donghyuck with a newfound speed. You wracked your mind for her room number, assuming that she must’ve been in 414 given the likely year-separation of the floors.

You heard Donghyuck’s voice echo through the halls, a quiet “what the fuck is wrong with you, man?” and the loud slamming of his hotel door. You followed it up by yanking the door to the stairs open, letting it fly shut behind you as you began a rapid ascent. You ignored the pain in your ankle, the way your legs wanted to shut down, and practically burst onto the fourth floor.

You followed the same path you had before, and, sure enough, the corridors followed the same pattern. You took turn after turn, saw identical-bouquet after identical-bouquet, before stopping in front of room 414.

Three swift knocks, and a step back.

The door opened.

“[First]?” Nayeong said, furrowing her brows. Traces of crying were left on her face, from mascara-lined tear stains to red cheeks and puffy eyes. Seeing her ignited something in you, an intense sort of emotion that you hadn’t felt in so, so long.

And, as you burst out into tears, Nayeong dragged you into a hug and began sobbing with you.

viii. to hold up the earth on his shoulders for all eternity. 

The dress you were wearing was absolutely, irrevocably uncomfortable.

Several hidden wires dug into your torso, a product of the bodice of the thing, and you swore you were bleeding in an area where the fabric rubbed against you wrong. Nevertheless, you wore it proudly, hair done up and makeup perfectly complimenting your features. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to attend the wedding of your soulmate—to someone other than you, that is.

Lee Donghyuck sat next to you, dressed in a matching suit to your dress and his leg crossed over the other. A toothpick hung out of his mouth, and he anxiously chewed on it, tapping his fingers against his knee as he waited. You’d both come in support of the couple and to try and masquerade as a couple to Jeno’s father, who was apparently very displeased when he saw your name on the invite list.

“Nayeong told me she’s considering eloping with her girlfriend,” you hummed, once again adjusting your sitting position so that your dress stopped trying to kill you. “Disappearing into a small, European country. Changing her name and getting married. Apparently, her girlfriend has the tickets bought and everything.”

“And why doesn’t she?”

“She doesn’t want to force the marriage-of-convenience role onto her sister,” you sighed, shaking your head. “What a superhero she is.”

“You know, if you’d had another year at the academy, you probably would be the bride here,” Donghyuck suggested, turning towards you. You received a glare from the woman sitting a couple seats to your left, who then whispered something to her husband.

“Not so loud. We’re gonna get kicked out.”

“I’m not lying, though. Since Jaemin nearly beat me up, I’ve never been yelled at more in my life—I had to help Jeno with his comeback plan. We got it done and then we went to Suhyeon’s room and you weren’t there and she looked at Jeno like he was satan’s incarnate.”

“Suhyeon and I weren’t going to last as friends anyway. Too different. We clung to each other too much, too. Recipe for disaster.”

“Right? Anyway, if the school hadn’t been so quick to decide to cut you off, you’d be the bride. Hundred percent.”

“Where is Jaemin, anyway?” you asked, cutting the conversation topic short. According to Nayeong’s perfectly curated seating chart, he was meant to be sitting next to you right now, blabbing away about how Donghyuck ruined Jeno’s one chance at happiness by telling you about Suhyeon rather than letting Jeno do it.

“Jaemin is right here,” he said, taking the seat next to you. You and Donghyuck looked over at him, instantly picking up on the panickedness he seemed to be exuding. “And nobody can find the bride and groom. Jeno’s dad is on a warpath right now, along with Nayeong’s mother.”

“Ooh, Europe worked out,” you joked, holding up your fist. Donghyuck bumped yours against his, chuckling as well.

“Made me call him a million times, and he didn’t pick up. I suggested getting you to call Nayeong, but they looked so appalled at the suggestion that I could’ve told them I was in love with Jeno and we got married in Vegas last night.”

“That was descriptive. Did you?”

Jaemin scoffed, not getting a straight answer. Instead, he tucked his phone in his blazer pocket, focusing on you. “Nayeong’s probably on the plane by now, but we don’t know where Jeno is.”

“Okay. And?”

“He’s suggesting you should go find him, dumbshit,” Donghyuck clarified, flicking your shoulder. You put your hand on it, pretending like he’d just stabbed you in the arm, but Jaemin quickly slapped your shoulder to avoid you causing a bit of a scene.

“I don’t even know his number. Deleted it from my phone about twenty minutes after Donghyuck broke the Jesu news to me.”

Donghyuck snorted, leaning back into his chair. In passing, he said, “No way you gave them a ship name,” but Jaemin ignored his comment pretty readily.

“Good news! I have it memorized. Give me your phone.”

Jaemin didn’t wait for you to hand it to him, simply snatching it up off your lap and unlocking it (you weren’t sure where he got the password, but you wouldn’t question it). He began typing what you assumed to be his phone number without even thinking about it.

“You sure you didn’t get married in Vegas?”

“Positive,” Jaemin said, handing the phone back to you. He scooped up your purse from the ground, shoving it into your arms and proceeding to point towards a set of doors off to the side of the banquet hall. “Go out there and down the hall. Door at the end goes to the back parking lot, where Jeno parked earlier. He’s either out there or waiting for someone worth it to call him, and someone worth it would be you.”

“And what am I gonna say?”

“I don’t know,” Jaemin said, acting like you’d asked him the most insane question in the world. “Figure it out yourself. Update me. Hyuck and I will hold down the fort until we hear from you.”

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to focus on you for a moment. A part of you wished you’d faded into oblivion after high school; being who you were, your merit reached about every end of the world. You lived in an academic spotlight, gaining the attention of universities both near and far. Jeno never came to visit you at your aunt’s house like he had shallowly promised, right before he missed his one chance to tell you the truth.

You stood up, and began your power walk to the door. Now that his fiancé was on her way to a small, European country and likely had all the assets she needed to become untraceable, Jeno would have to deal with the wrath of his father, who would feed him the same “I’m not mad, just disappointed” spiel.

You pushed the door open, hanging your bag off your shoulder and wishing your dress wasn’t so uncomfortable. Sure enough, a text came in from Nayeong—a selfie of her and her girlfriend, whom you had never met, in a plane. She was still fully prepared for marriage, only missing the wedding dress; her hair was perfectly done, the tiara was still there, and her makeup was untouched. Her girlfriend looked much more relaxed, makeupless and hair spread about.

They looked happy. So, as a result, you were happy, and could only hope she would tell you which small, European country she was living in so you could visit. Another text came in, this one from your mother, but you ignored it and continued out into the parking lot.

There was only one car that was running, and it was parked in a corner. It was black and the windows were tinted to high heaven, and you could only assume that would be where the missing groom was. You marched through the parking lot, repeating a mantra of self-support in your mind. This was one of those situations where you should’ve been anxious, but you couldn’t feel a thing; you’d grown used to not feeling anything over the years, but, in situations like these, it always felt uncomfortable.

You stopped a little bit before the car, making sure you were out of sight. You stared for a moment, blinking a couple of times and trying to muster up any sort of anxiety, but you could only manage a small kick in the bottom of your stomach. With a sigh, you approached.

You opened the car door, which was shockingly unlocked, and got into the passenger’s seat. Jeno didn’t turn to look at you, just drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and staring forward. “Can you take me to my apartment? If the wedding isn’t happening, I don’t want to sit in this dress any longer.”

He didn’t waste a moment to put the car in reverse, backing out of the spot with ease. He put a hand on the back of your seat, turning his whole body to look out of the back window even though he had one of those backup cameras. You wondered if he was trying to impress you, but found it unlikely given how unhappy he seemed.

When he managed to back out completely and was forced to turn his focus to the road, you took the chance to give him a once-over. You hadn’t seen Jeno since a banquet two years ago, where you’d been invited after one of your professors insisted you had to share your paper. You’d mingled with people in much higher places than you, smiling and discussing things you didn't care about, barely speaking about your academic ventures. Jeno had been there, too, hanging off Nayeong’s arm like he’d once done to you. They spent the whole night gossiping, sitting together and whispering about things you couldn’t imagine. Back then, when he was 20 years old, his hair had still been blonde and he had still carried that gold boy demeanor he loved so much. Now, his hair was pitch black, and he gave off the energy of someone who was completely and utterly in control of his life.

Judging by the way he blatantly ignored the people who’d begun running after his car, you assumed the energy mirrored the truth. He turned out onto the street, speeding away from the banquet hall that had a million cars around it. “Lots of presents oughta be returned tonight, huh,” you mused, adjusting your sit once again. “I bet it’s annoying and relieving all at once.”

“My dad’s gonna blame this all on me,” he sighed, continuing to drum his fingers on the steering wheel. “Where do you live?”

“Trimage Towers. Anyway, he can’t blame it all on you if Nayeong’s a lesbian. I mean, it’s not like you had any jurisdiction over that.”

Jeno hesitated for a moment, slowing down for a red light. Thanks to the location of the fancy banquet hall, the towers were already in sight, and you could practically feel the relief of taking this awful dress off.

“You really can’t feel anything, huh.”

“I can feel things, just not a lot. I’d be able to feel things if you would’ve gotten over me,” you hummed, looking out the passenger window. “I’m serious, Jeno. Find a new girl. Pick her over me. We will both be happier that way.”

“So you’re rejecting me over a relationship that started when I was in middle school?” he asked, and, at that moment, you understood it was a bit ridiculous. You were sure you’d see it in a more intuitive way had you retained your emotions, but such was the price of rejecting one’s other half.

“I don’t know. I haven’t felt anything since then. I’m content with it now, so I don’t really feel like I can love anyone. Make a decision based on love. Who knows,” you replied, feeling your phone buzz. You picked it up—another text from your mom. This time, though, she called you a couple of names for ignoring her texts and not sending her any money.

Jeno suddenly took a sharp turn, pulling into an empty parking lot next to an office building, which you assumed to be empty because it was Saturday. He pulled around to the back, parking in a spot next to a few trees. It was well hidden, likely a tactic for avoiding anyone chasing him.

“What can I do to fix it?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’m serious. I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”

The slightest bit of sympathy graced your heart, but not enough to change anything. You sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the car. “Not sure.”

“What, should I confess my love to you?” he asked, which caught your attention. You looked over, biting the edge of your lip. “I barely know you, [First], yet I am deeply in love with you. Every time I hear something about you from Nayeong, or from Donghyuck, or from Jaemin, I feel the most intense regret that I decided to ignore Donghyuck’s advice and trust Jaemin more. All I could tell you about yourself are things everyone else knows and whatever my friends have told me, yet I’d still pick you over anybody else.”

Your heart sped up, but you still felt numb to the world. Maybe Dr. Choi had been right—maybe it wasn’t worth it to lose all feeling when you were 17. Maybe, if things had gone better, you would have been the bride today.

“Okay.”

“Is there any way? Any way at all that we could try? I know I’ve asked before, and I was disingenuous then, but I’m not a kid anymore. Neither are you. Things could be different.”

“Could they?” you finally bit into the conversation, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “I just—I can’t comprehend it. I’m a work machine. I walk into the office and stay for hours, reviewing my coworker’s pieces and writing my own based on what I’m given. I’m told that one day, I’ll be one of the greats of journalism thanks to my ability to work until I give out. Will that go away if I let this happen? Will I lose opportunity if I let myself love? I’m not really sure.”

“What makes you think that?” Jeno shot back. “What makes you think a little emotion would destroy your career?”

“Most, if not all of my superiors are soulmate-less or have purposefully gone out of their way to reject their soulmates. It’s standard.”

“You can break the standard, then.”

A bit of anger began to bubble in your stomach. “Could I? I already have it worse by having absolutely no nepotism to back me up, and I’ve got a world of expectation on me based on how I graduated at the top of everything, in every year of schooling I’ve ever had. I have a bad family to keep under wraps, and I have to pay them off to keep them quiet. I can’t afford to be pushing any stereotypes when I’ve got a million other things to work through.”

“I can be your credible, important connection, then. How easy is that?”

“I’d rather die than be a nepotism baby.”

“Then what are you looking for?” “Nothing, Jeno! I’m looking for nothing!” you finally exclaimed, the anger bubbling over the top. “I’m looking to leave this behind us and separate ourselves from each other! I’d rather die than keep living a life that orbits around you! I just—I just want to be myself.”

“Then I’ll orbit around you. I’ll stay out of it and I’ll treat your every beck and call—”

“Shut up, Jeno.”

“I’ll be the one who’s connected to you. I won’t be Lee Jeno, son of that one guy who got to live easy because of his grandfather’s work—”

“Jeno, please.”

“And I’ll dedicate my everything to you, master journalist, the most goddamn successful person in the world, all thanks to herself—”

You’re unsure what came over you at that moment. In your fit of anger, wanting Jeno to just shut up, you grabbed the sides of his face, and you kissed him. There was a moment where you couldn’t believe yourself, where you truly thought you’d open your eyes and be back in the banquet hall, discussing where Jaemin was with Donghyuck. In that moment, Jeno would walk out, make his way to the altar, and Nayeong would follow.

They would look miserable. You would know they were miserable. You would know you could’ve prevented their misery. You’d feel nothing. You’d go home, Donghyuck driving you, and you’d go to bed, ready to go into work the next day.

One opening of your eyes revealed to you that you were, in fact, kissing Lee Jeno. He didn’t seem to mind the suddenness of it—obviously—reaching over the center console to lace his fingers into your perfectly wavy hair. He smiled into the kiss, as if he was the most satisfied man in the world, as if he was the only man in the world.

You closed them again, and felt fireworks burst within you. Although they hadn’t returned like you thought they would, you felt a mixture of very mellow emotions pooling in your stomach, and you realized maybe Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck had a plot.

You pulled away from him, dropping your hands from his face. He did not try to separate himself from you, though, waiting for you to recite the words he’d be wanting you to recite. “An academic article by psychologist Kim Sowol. The best way to incite emotion in someone who’s rejected their soulmate is to anger them.”

He dropped his hands now, too, laying them on top of yours. “Nayeong sent it to me.”

You stayed quiet, narrowing your eyes at him. “I hate you. Never speak to me again.”

Jeno put his hands back on the wheel, reversing the car once more and taking you back out onto the road. “Yeah, okay. Next stop, your apartment. Text Jaemin that it worked for me, would you?”

You scoffed. “No. Shut up.”

“Your wish is my command, my dear.”

thank you for reading!

tags:

@dziewoja07 @pewpewpwe00 @mings-cafe @yutensoul @iioyous @shepeelsoranges @loeycity @misakiise @000rpheus @eunbi4eva @jenonoon @travelleratheart101 @hesbambi @minchoco @swagzombiefart @eunbi4eva @wonluvrbot

[daisyvisions]

Hate is a Strong Word - Part 2

Pairing: Enemies with Benefits! Sangyeon x Fem! reader Synopsis: When one kiss sends both of you into a spiral, are you able to resist or give up everything to do it again? Word Count: 6,385 (phew 😮‍💨) Warnings: (18+, Minors DNI), explicit smut (?), unprotected sex, fingering, some coercion (consent is key ALWAYS okay?), heavy sexual tension, lots of cuss words, hot muscley dark-haired Sangyeon (yes that’s a warning), some mutual pining, dirty talk, pet name (sweetheart), lots the word “god” but not used religiously A/N: Finally, a fic where I don’t leave people hanging 😌 I’m so sorry this took longer than it should’ve! I wanted to be sure that the storyline didn’t go far away from the plot of the 1st part! And also, this made me wanna makeout with Sangyeon until I couldn't feel my lips ngl 😵‍💫 Enjoy!

Read Part 1 Here!

───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“Oh, Sangyeon-” you whimper.

“You have no idea how much I wanted you like this…” he groans into your mouth.

Sangyeon never thought he’d end up seeing you the way you are right now: panting breathlessly, telling him to thrust harder, gripping his shoulders tightly, allowing him to fuck you so good that you’re a babbling mess. Everything felt like a haze, like it was a dream.

“S-Sangyeon, I’m gonna-“

Your shaky voice and contorted face were signaling your approaching climax. He couldn’t wait to see you come undone for him. But just as you were about to, your figure suddenly disappears beneath him in a blink of an eye… What the fuck?

Beep… beep… beep!

The blaring sound of his alarm abruptly wakes him up. His eyes shoot open, staring at the ceiling in confusion. He was covered in sweat, felt like his head was spinning… and was incredibly hard. The front of his boxers was practically drenched in his precum.

Another wet dream.

“Shit, not again…” he flips and groans into his pillow.

He rubs his face vigorously, trying to shake the dream off his mind. Normally he could go about his day as if it didn’t happen, but this dream was the most vivid one by far. It was making him dread seeing you in class today.

It was just a dream, keep it together for fuck’s sake. But he knows himself all too well to know that was a lie.

───────•°•❀•°•───────

It had been a few weeks since the incident inside the closet and you’d been avoiding Sangyeon like the plague. Even your friends started noticing you don’t talk shit about him as much as you used to, but you reassured them that you just didn’t have the mental energy to do so anymore.

You’re not going to lie to yourself. Sometimes the memory of that moment randomly plays in your head when you least expect it to. Remembering the warmth that radiated from his body, his strong muscles holding you close, and his soft plump lips against yours. How you secretly wished it could happen again.

But you obviously couldn’t tell anyone about it, you would rather eat dirt than admit that. So you preferred to just suppress whatever the hell you were feeling about him and just move on with your life.

For Sangyeon however, it seemed like the more days passed by, the effects of that incident had gotten worse for him to handle. It’s not like he was harboring any crush on you beforehand, it was more of a weird mix between his carnal desires and his dying curiosity on what could've happened.

Besides his recurring wet dreams, he just couldn't stop thinking about your heavenly lips. How sweet you tasted, how you sounded moaning his name, the way they molded so perfectly into his. He was getting too addicted.

And no matter what he did, those thoughts of you would remain in his mind. He tried to avoid you as much as he could despite sharing almost all classes together. It was even more difficult especially when you’d pass by and the whiff of your scent would linger in the air, baiting him to follow you.

There have been multiple times where he’d end up staring at you from afar longer than he should’ve (in which he almost got caught by one of his friends.) He knew his so-called rivalry with you was already obsessive in nature, but this? It was a whole other level, a game he didn’t know how to play.

Believe me, he did everything he could to forget you and that moment. He even tried to jerk it off but that didn’t help at all! It just made his deep-seeded lust for you grow even worse.

And you didn't even have to do anything to get him this riled up. One glance from you, seeing your figure from the distance, hearing your voice in passing, anything you did had become too addicting than he could bear.

To him, you were like a siren trying to lure him into dark waters and he was slowly starting to drown into depths of desire he knew he shouldn't have gone into… because now he wanted more.

He kept thinking of the many possible ways to try and get you alone like that again, but that was already a challenge in itself.

But he always loved a challenge, especially if it involved you. Sangyeon was incredibly determined to find a way to put an end to this madness once and for all.

No matter what, he’ll do whatever it takes as long as he gets what he wants… you.

───────•°•❀•°•───────

Tennis shoes were squeaking against the newly polished floors of the hallway as you sprinted, you were running late to your 8AM class. Juggling your part-time and studies was starting to take a toll on you, causing you to lack sleep and become more forgetful than you ever were before. So naturally, you forgot to set your alarm today.

The moment you reach the door, you’re immediately greeted by the smile of your professor.

“Oh, Miss L/n. There you are! You’re just on time. I thought you weren’t going to make it today.”

“I’m so sorry Mr. Park. It won't happen again,” you reply as you try to catch your breath.

“That’s alright! We’re going to watch a documentary today, nothing to be stressed about. But since your usual spot has been taken, you’re just gonna have to fill in the last seat at the back.”

Your eyes follow where Mr. Park points out. From a distance you see a small shared table at the top of the steps, a secluded area from the other seats in the room.

Your eyes snap at the figure occupying the seat next to yours and your chest suddenly tightens seeing who it was.

Oh god, not beside… him.

It was like the universe was playing another sick joke on you. You sighed and accepted your fate, nodding at your professor before walking up to the back of the room.

You try to keep your eyes glued to the floor to avoid looking at his face. Sangyeon on the other hand hasn’t stopped staring at you the moment you entered the room, especially with the dream he just had the night before burning at the back of his mind.

He was too mesmerized by your aura, as if there was a beautiful glow around you. He was so lost in his own mind he didn’t even realize how fixated his gaze was on you, everything else around him drowning out until you were the only thing visible in his line of vision. Just like a moth to a flame.

Even without looking at him, you already knew he was staring at you, feeling his eyes burn holes right through your figure. You don't know why he kept on staring at you today but the way he did was similar to an animal waiting for its prey, black orbs waiting for your next move before they could strike.

You were used to getting death glares from him before but this? It made you feel different. You started feeling knots form in your stomach, the very same ones you felt when you were with him in that closet.

Get a grip y/n, don’t think of him that way. Not when you’re beside him.

You drop your things on the table, making him snap out of his trance. You try to rile him up like how you used to before, “What are you staring at loser? Like what you see?” You blurt out while avoiding his gaze, trying to play it cool.

“Maybe I do… Would that be a problem?” He raises one of his eyebrows. Oh god, why’d you say that to her?

You whip your head and look at him in confusion, a pink blush subtly appearing on your cheeks. “W-wha-”

But before you even have the chance to reply the classroom lights close and the documentary in front starts playing, signaling you to take your seat.

You inhale and let out a big sigh. Everything’s going to be fine, you think to yourself. As long as you don’t turn your head in his direction and keep a good distance, being in a dark room beside him won’t bother you one bit…

Or will it?

───────•°•❀•°•───────

Time passes by agonizingly slower than you thought. You couldn’t wait to get out of that classroom and get as far away from him as possible before you start getting any unwanted thoughts in your mind.

Truth be told, it was really hard keeping your distance, especially when the space between you two is a bit cramped so you have no choice but to be physically closer to one another. Who’s idea was to have only one small shared table at the back of the room?

It really didn’t help the fact that you could smell his intoxicating masculine scent and the warmth radiating from his body being so close to him, making you feel slightly lightheaded.

And it REALLY didn’t help when your eyes accidentally glanced over at his hand on the table. The way his veins moved beneath his tan skin, reminding you how those rough hands had touched you before.

No, no, no! You’re not about to think of him like this again.

While you were internally struggling, the close proximity between you two was also giving Sangyeon an incredibly difficult time. You were so close yet so far from him, it was making his chest tighten. He was so tempted to give into you, but he knew he couldn't right now. So he tried his best to keep his focus on the screen ahead.

The sudden shift in your movement to cross your legs, however, backfired his attempt to resist, currently placing him in a dangerous spot. While you shifted your leg, your foot accidentally nudged him, causing him to glance at your legs under the table. His eyes widened at the view before him.

Shit…he shouldn’t have looked down there.

It only occurred to him just now that you were wearing a skirt today, exposing the soft skin of your legs, the ones he caressed before. He secretly liked it when you wore dresses or skirts to school (even before the incident mind you). But there’s a little detail about the skirt that sets him completely off…

No fucking way. Please no. He internally panics.

Out of all days, you just happen to be wearing the exact same skirt during the incident. (Don’t ask him why he remembers.) All the memories came rushing in his head in a flash. Remembering the hunger in your eyes, your kisses, your moans…

His cock instantly throbs hard at the thought, making it strain against his jeans. He bites his lower lip to refrain from letting out a groan, trying not to think of the events that could’ve happened next if you two had stayed in that closet. But that obviously doesn’t work as his mind drifts into these lewd thoughts.

The thought of how he would’ve taken you then and there, making sure every inch of you felt good under his touch, moaning out his name deliciously, holding onto him for dear life while he fucks the living shit out of you…

He feels his heart rate increase rapidly. All these thoughts have his mind dangling on a string. If he doesn’t do something about it right now, he might go insane.

You sense something’s off with Sangyeon by the way he’s nervously shaking his leg and the whites of his knuckles appearing on his hand as he balls them into a fist. What’s up with him? You wondered.

You never saw him like this before and it genuinely concerned you but you were unsure of what to do. You almost think about tapping his shoulder but hesitate. Should I ask him if he’s oka-

Your inner thought is suddenly cut off by his warm hand quickly gripping your exposed thigh, slowly inching its way near your core. You look at him with frantic eyes.

“Sangyeon, what the fuck!” You quietly gasp.

“Shh… Just keep your eyes on the screen.” his low husky voice instructing you on what to do while his eyes are focused on the documentary playing.

For some reason, you couldn’t find it in you to respond or push back, so you decide to just let whatever this was play out and see where it goes.

As you keep your eyes focused on the documentary, Sangyeon continues to massage your thigh, his fingers kneading the soft skin underneath.

You tried so hard to hold back a whimper from coming out of your mouth at his burning touch. God his hand feels so good.

And honestly, Sangyeon had no clue what the fuck he was doing either. All he was thinking of was wanting to touch you and the next thing he knows his hand is caressing your inner thigh. It seemed his body had betrayed him yet again.

It’s not as easy as it sounds. Trying to remain calm and focusing your attention elsewhere while the man you’ve been secretly lusting for has his hand dangerously near your throbbing core.

His thumb continuously brushes your inner thigh, practically millimeters away from grazing against the wet patch forming in your panties. He could feel the heat radiating from your core, practically calling him to go even further.

Fuck, I wanna touch her so bad, he thinks. His restraint was deteriorating by the second.

He’s so close. You internally cried out of frustration, pressing your lips together.

It pained you how easily he could just slip his fingers inside and touch you where you wanted him to… but he didn’t.

You let out a small whimper out of protest that only the two of you could hear, making Sangyeon’s eyes roll back.

Oh god… It’s the sweet sound he’s been wanting to hear from your lips again, poisoning his ears like they did the first time. His grip on your thigh gets tighter.

“Fuck, you’re killing me right now sweetheart…” he whispers in your ear, the vibration of his voice sending an electrifying throb down to your core.

You couldn't take it anymore, you never felt so desperate in your life. Something HAD to be done or else you’d go insane.

Sangyeon suddenly feels your hand on top of his tightly, gripping them as hard as he was on your thigh. You wanted him to touch you, to have his strong fingers abuse your sensitive bud like he owned it.

“Sangyeon…” you whisper.

You both turn to face each other, only realizing how close your face is to his. Hot breath fanning over your lips, his eyes flickering down to stare at them.

He desperately wanted to kiss you right now. To revel in the softness of your touch, to taste the sweetness of your lips, to be placed under your spell once again and transcend into paradise.

He inches forward a bit more, his bottom lip lightly brushing yours. The proximity between you two makes your breath hitch, waiting to see what he’ll do next.

Just as he thought he’d finally get to feel your lips again, a booming sound of claps echo in the room, making the two of you pull away from each other quickly before the lights turn back on.

“Okay! Don’t forget to turn in your paper on this documentary by Friday. See you all til then!” Everyone starts dispersing out of the classroom, walking to wherever they need to be.

“Y/n…” Sangyeon tries to call for your attention, but you quickly pack your things and bolt out of the classroom, leaving him again like last time before anything could escalate.

“Shit-” he mutters to himself.

Looks getting to you will be harder than it appears to be.

───────•°•❀•°•───────

The day isn't even over and you already felt like you were all over the place, feeling so distraught and confused by what had happened this morning. You almost fell into his trap! What were you thinking?

The frustration made you lose your appetite. You kept on poking the food in front of you with your fork, thinking of what could’ve happened next. The thoughts running in your mind were driving you insane.

Jacob plopped down at the seat next to you. He’s noticed something was off with you for quite some time, you weren't your usual self ever since the day of that test you mentioned to him.

“Y/n?” You suddenly hear Jacob’s sweet voice calling out to you, snapping you back to reality.

“Hey… you okay? You hardly touched your food.” he asks, rubbing your back in the process.

“Oh, uhm. Yeah I’m fine. Just not in the mood that’s all. Been lacking sleep lately.”

Your response makes Jacob pout, he knows you more than anyone else. And he definitely knows the difference between when you're lacking sleep and something internally bothering you. Of course, he doesn't try to pry and leaves you be. He gently squeezes your hand to let you know that he’s there for you, you softly smile back at him in response.

Meanwhile, Sangyeon was looking over at your table the whole time during lunch. His eyes were just glued to your figure, thinking of how close he almost got to kiss you again.

His line of vision is abruptly cut when Hyunjae sits down in front of him at his table.

“Hey, are you going to Eric’s party this Saturday?” Hyunjae immediately asks.

“Hm? Oh, uh yeah I think so. Why?” Sangyeon replies, trying to distract himself from thinking of you.

“Cool, cool. So… you think Y/n’s gonna be there too?” There was a quick moment of silence, Sangyeon’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/n?” He repeats.

“Yeah!” Hyunjae replies enthusiastically.

“Uh, I don’t really know. Why do you ask?” Sangyeon responds skeptically.

“Oh man, I think she’s REALLY pretty. I’ve talked to her a couple of times thanks to Jacob.” Hyunjae sheepishly says. “I actually might think of asking her out soon, maybe if she wants to come to the party with me.”

Sangyeon’s jaw immediately clenched at Hyunjae’s confession. The thought of someone else getting in the way between you two pissed him off for some reason. He tries to hide this strange feeling bubbling inside him by looking down at his food and taking a bite.

“Oh… okay. Are you sure about that though? Does she like you back or something?” Sangyeon passive aggressively utters.

“I don't know. But I always get good vibes from her when we talk. I know you guys don’t like each other but I swear she’s so fun to be with. Did I mention she’s really pretty too?” Hyunjae rambles.

The way Hyunjae stresses on how pretty you are has Sangyeon gripping his utensil hard, nearly bending it in half. As if he had a chance. If only he knew what happened between the two of you and how he made you feel good. Sangyeon thinks to himself, feeling cocky that you’ll turn Hyunjae’s offer down.

But he was about to find out how incredibly wrong he was.

Hyunjae suddenly stands up from his seat and walks away from the table. Sangyeon whips his head up, wondering where Hyunjae is running off to.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I’m gonna ask her right now!” Hyunjae shouts back, still walking his way towards you.

Sangyeon watches Hyunjae like a hawk, the unsettling feeling inside him burning through the roof. He sees Hyunjae tap your shoulder and you suddenly give him such a beautiful smile. Why the fuck does Hyunjae get to see that smile?

He keeps watching the two of you talking from afar and you’re suddenly… laughing? Sangyeon’s eyes roll. The nerve of this guy, really. If Sangyeon had lasers for eyes he would've burnt holes in Hyunjae’s head right now.

He's never felt this feeling inside him before. Sure, he’s felt competitive especially when it was with you but this… felt different. He brushed off the thought and continued to observe the two of you.

Just when the conversation looked like it was ending, Sangyeon catches Hyunjae tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your body language clearly showing you were getting a bit flustered.

Now he’s done it…that motherfucker. Sangyeon’s jaw clenches way too hard at the sight and snaps the plastic utensil in his hand. Who does he think he is? Touching you and making you react that way?

That damn unsettling feeling bubbling in his veins rises again, but he’s too in denial at the moment to come to terms with it and buries it deep within his gut for now.

He pauses for a moment until suddenly gets a bright idea: He’s got another chance to get you alone during the party this Saturday night.

And this time… he’ll make sure nothing is going to get in his way.

───────•°•❀•°•───────

You walk into the party with Aera. Loud music blasting, people trying to talk over one another, and more than half of the people invited were already pissed drunk. When you try to turn to Aera, she’d already left you to go to Younghoon. Some kind of friend…

“Y/n!” You hear someone shouting your name from across the room. Hyunjae makes a beeline for you with a newly opened beer bottle in his hand.

“Hyunjae!” You shout, giving him a friendly hug.

“I’m so happy you made it!” His smile spreading from ear to ear. “C’mon, you’re late. We gotta get you caught up with the drinks.” Before you even have time to protest, he immediately grabs your wrist and guides you into the kitchen.

Sangyeon had caught your figure the moment you entered the house. You looked so beautiful tonight especially with the dress you were wearing, you looked absolutely stunning.

Okay, now I just have to wait for the right moment, he says to himself. But as he was about to get up from his spot on the couch, he saw you suddenly disappear into the crowd with Hyunjae…

He swears he’s never felt his jaw clench so hard in his life, especially seeing Hyunjae’s hand holding your wrist. He eventually gets up from his spot and tries to follow you both while keeping his distance.

───────•°•❀•°•───────

“Alright, choose your poison!” Hyunjae utters as you’re seated on top of the kitchen counter.

You playfully tap your finger against your lips. “Hmm, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you respond.

“If you say so.” He grins, popping open a bottle of beer.

You instantly take a swig at the drink, staring at Hyunjae while he stares back in amusement.

“A little eager aren’t we?”

“Well you did say to catch up right?” you respond.

Hyunjae carefully steps closer to you, your faces inches away from each other. You feel the heat of your cheeks slowly creep in. He’s much more handsome up close.

You’ve always had a tiny crush on Hyunjae if you were being completely honest. He was always fun to hangout with and made you laugh a lot (and you liked it when he would get a tiny bit touchy with you.)

Hyunjae slowly wipes off the droplet of beer from your bottom lip with his thumb and sucks it off, making your breath hitch while he watches your reaction.

“…Can I kiss you?” He whispers. You nod your head in response. Just as Hyunjae was about to lean in, loud shouts and a bottle crashing to the floor stops him and both your heads are directed to the source of the sound.

You realize your face was so close to Hyunjae when you turn your head back to him, making you feel all flustered. “Uh, excuse me for a bit. Gotta go use the restroom.” You mumble.

“Oh okay, sure. Go ahead.” He softly smiles back. You hop off from the kitchen counter and immediately make your way up the stairs.

Thank god for that bottle crashing, Sangyeon thinks to himself. He had been observing the two of you this whole time, nearly crushing the plastic cup in his hand when he saw Hyunjae leaning closer to you. He hated how easy it was for Hyunjae.

He’s snapped out of his own trance when he realizes where you’re heading and waits for you to go up the stairs before following. His window of opportunity was opening itself in front of him.

It's now or never.

───────•°•❀•°•───────

Taking a gulp of alcohol wasn’t a good idea as you felt your face warming up instantly. After freshening up in the bathroom, you let out a big sigh before closing the door behind you.

As you were walking down the hallway a hand suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you into an empty room, making you squeal in the process. Your back pressed up against the door and you hear the doorknob lock.

You’re caged under a taller male figure, his breath fanning over your face.

“Hyunjae, what are you doing?” You giggle, eyes still looking down at the floor.

You hear the figure hovering over you scoff. “Nope. Guess again, sweetheart.”

Oh no, that voice… Your heartbeat quickly increases as you look up, seeing the smug look on his face.

“What the fuck do you want Sangyeon?” You roll your eyes.

“I think there’s something we need to talk about. Something that’s way overdue, hm?” he replies.

You pause, waiting for him to continue talking.

“Look, you and I both know whatever happened that day wasn’t… normal.”

“What day?” You respond, trying to dodge his interrogation.

“Don’t play dumb now… the day we kissed in that closet.” He stares into your eyes.

“Do you wanna know why I did that? It was because you couldn’t shut your damn mouth which you nearly got us caught by the way, idiot.” You spit back.

”I don’t care about that shit anymore- You can’t convince me that you did not enjoy at least one second of that kiss.”

“You sucked a very sensitive part of my neck, of course I’m gonna moan, what did you expect?”

“No, no, no. I bet you were way more into it than you realize. You’re just afraid to admit it. Especially because it was with me.”

You scoff at his words, “You really think you have that effect over me? You’re really stupid if you think if you can make me genuinely moan for you like tha-”

Your words are cut off when Sangyeon’s hand gently grabs your neck, looking at you with fire blazing in his brown eyes.

“…Are you challenging me right now?” Leaning his face closer to yours. You gulp down your saliva by the sudden aggression, feeling a familiar heat between your thighs emerge. Please, not now…

He leans to the side to whisper closely to your ear, his voice dropping an octave lower. “Aren’t you forgetting something that happened that day too?”

Sangyeon slightly pulls away to see your reaction, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He didn't want to do it, but he had no choice but to strike while the iron was hot.

“No? Let me refresh your memory then... I wonder what the whole student body would think when they found out that I caught you sneaking your way to the top, that y/n isn’t the bright student everyone thinks she is…”

Your eyes widen. Shit. How could you forget that?

“Or it could be worse, coming out of the professor’s office looking all messed up… What would they think of you?” giving you his signature devilish smirk.

That last bit made your blood boil, your jaw clenching at his threat.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare-”

“Oh I fucking would.” Sangyeon pauses for a bit, his eyes drifting down to look at your lips then back up at your eyes again.

“Unless… you give me one thing I want.”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. Is he serious right now?

“What could you possibly want from me?” You mutter.

“You see, I’ve got this itch that needs to be scratched and only you can do it...”

“Oh for fuck’s sake get to the point Sang-”

“Let’s finish what we started in that closet.”

A moment of silence fills the room. You swear the loud thumping sound of your heart could be heard coming out of your chest.

“A-are you serious?” You stutter. “ I-I… thought you hated me.”

“Oh, sweetheart… I REALLY hate you-”

“But now you wanna fuck? What, are you in love with me or something?” you ask.

“The hell? I never said anything about falling in love-” Sangyeon lets out a big sigh before continuing.

“I’ll get straight to the point. Whether we like it or not, there’s no denying there’s some physical chemistry going on between us. I know it and you know it too.” He looks into your eyes waiting for you to respond, but you remain silent.

“So choose, either you scratch this itch or I tell everyone your little secret…”

Were you really going to allow your rival to use you like that? Or would you rather have your reputation gone in an instant?

Fuck it, you threw your morals out the window the moment you kissed him anyway… What's there to lose?

“Fine… I’ll do it. Just this one time and it will NEVER happen again.” You huff. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you-”

“Sweetheart, all I needed was a yes…”

Before you know it, Sangyeon moves his hand grabbing your throat to the back of your neck, pulling you close as his plush lips feverishly kiss and suck your sensitive area making you moan just like you did before.

“Shit- Sangyeon…” you breathlessly say.

“You have no idea how much I wanted you like this…” he groans into you neck.

His other hand start grabbing your hip, tightening his grip on the fabric of your dress while your fingers thread through his dark hair.

Sangyeon continues to suck and leave kisses on your neck, trying to desperately leave his mark there for everyone to see. You feel the sting when his teeth slightly nip at your sensitive area, making you pull his head back.

“No marks.” you warn him.

“Too late sweetheart, I already did.” He smirks.

“I fucking hate you so much.”

“Oh yeah?” Sangyeon lowers one of his hands, snaking it under your dress and immediately cupping your clothed mound. The feeling of his warm grip making you gasp loudly.

“Your body seems to love it though.” He whispers against your ear as he squeezes your soft skin, your moan sounding more desperate than the last. His fingers start slipping under your panties, moving them up and down between your folds, his fingers easily coated from your slick.

“Shit, already wet for me? We haven't even started yet.” he groans while circling your sensitive bud.

“She’s practically weeping for me sweetheart, begging to be touched. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Wanting me to touch you so badly like this during class?” the pace of his fingers increasing while the memory of your two earlier this week flashed in his mind.

“Mhmm…” you whimper, your mind incapable of uttering words from how good his fingers feel right now circling your throbbing clit.

Sangyeon’s other hand lets go of your neck and makes its way behind your knee, pulling it up so that you could wrap your leg around him.

Without warning, his fingers travel from your sensitive bud to your wet entrance, easing in his two thick fingers. He pulls his head away from your ear to watch your face form an “O” expression, his erection becoming harder from how beautiful you react to his touch.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well. Swallowing every inch of it.” Sangyeon coos while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. You let out a whine in response.

He slams his fingers back inside you so deep and starts to curl his fingers inside at an ungodly pace, creating squelching sounds from your wet pussy.

“Mmm, Sangyeon-” you mewl as your hands grip his shoulders for support.

“Fuck, say my name like that again.” He growls in your ear. The vibrations of his voice making your walls clench around his fingers.

“S-Sanggyeoon…” your moans getting deeper, becoming more wanton the more he keeps up the pace. He feels your walls pulsating with every curl of his fingers.

“I-I can’t- oh shit, I’m gonna-” you pant against his ear, feeling the coil inside you snapping any second from now.

“Cum for me sweetheart, let it all out. Tell me, who’s making you feel this good?” he responds.

“Y-you are…” His free hand suddenly flies to grab hold of your neck again.

“No- Say my name- fuck- who’s making you feel this good? hm?”

“You are Sangyeon-oh fu-” your climax bursts out of you like fireworks, your vision blurring and seeing nothing but stars. He pulls out his fingers to inspect your gushed out fluids, instinctively sucking at them while his eyes bore into yours.

“You taste just as good as you sound sweetheart.” he grins.

Just when you think it’s over, he grips the back of your other knee, you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Up.” You follow his command without hesitation, both your legs wrapped around his torso as he walks backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed. He fall backwards sitting on the bed while you end up straddling his lap.

Hands slide your dress up to your waist, exposing your bare legs and soaking panties as he leans forward to kiss your neck once again.

You palm his throbbing erection straining through his jeans, eliciting a very deep moan from him.

His kisses travel from your neck to your collarbone, his fingers quickly pulling down the straps of your dress and exposing your bare chest to him.

“God, You’re so beautiful…” he mumbles into your skin while kissing and groping your breasts as you start grinding your hips onto his aching member. Groans and soft moans echoing around the room.

Sangyeon couldn't take it anymore, he desperately needed you right now. And just like some telepathic signal you help him out of his pants, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down along with his boxers down to his knees.

His aching cock slaps against his abdomen, his angry red tip smothered in precum. Your mouth waters at the sight, wondering if he’ll be able to fit all of it inside you.

“We’ll make it fit” Sangyeon grins, as if he could read your mind.

“I hate it when you get so cocky, it’s so annoying…” You roll your eyes.

“And I hate it when you’re a wound-up tight bitch.” he spits back as he aggressively pulls your panties to the side and rubs the tip against your folds and poking in your entrance. It’s only his tip and you’re already starting to whimper.

“I'll take it back… I like it when you’re so tight.” His smug smile makes you want to strangle him on the spot.

“You talk way too much, can you just get on with it alrea-” Sangyeon pushes his whole length inside you until he’s bottomed out, making you both moan in unison. You feel so full of him, something you’ve never felt before in your life.

Meanwhile Sangyeon has never felt this kind of tightness before, breathing deeply to control himself. You haven’t even moved yet and he swears he might cum in seconds.

You start to slowly bounce up and down his length, his hands on your hips guiding your pace. He hisses at the warmth and tightness of your walls, making him tilt his head back in pleasure.

“We’ve should’ve done this a long time ago- fuck- and maybe we wouldn't have been at each other’s throats all the time.” He chuckles, a deep groan following after.

“Y-yeah, oh-” you whine. You push your weight forward, making Sangyeon back lie against the mattress. The tip of his cock starts to nudge your sweet gummy spot, making you rock your hips faster.

You both moan in unison again, your velvety walls clenching harder on his hardened length.

You lean your face closer to Sangyeon’s as you’re rocking your hips. He couldn’t help but stare at your fucked out face. Taking to memory how beautiful you look right now. His eyes slowly travel down to your lips, those heavenly lips.

“Kiss me.” He blurts out.

“W-what?” You pant.

“Kiss me, please!” There’s more desperation in his tone.

You passionately kiss him, just like the first time. His hands cup your face to deepen the kiss. Your lips molding with his perfectly like they were made for each other, forgetting everything around you for a moment in time.

Sangyeon’s tongue swipes your bottom lip repeatedly, desperately asking for entrance. Your tongues moving and twirling harmoniously, more passionate than ever before.

Your bodies were so entwined with one another to the point that if people had watched the both of you right now, not an ounce of hatred or rivalry could be seen.

Everything started to feel overwhelming for Sangyeon, feeling his cock throbbing hard, signaling his approaching climax. He could tell yours was near as your walls were clenching around him harder than ever.

“Sangyeon, I-I’m gonna cu-” you plead.

“M-me too, t-together.” His speech slurred by the second. His hands grip your hips, pistoning himself into you to reach your climaxes faster.

You both reach your highs at an instant, moaning into each other’s mouths so hard. Ropes of his seed spilling into you as you gush out onto his member. His cock doesn't stop twitching inside you after that.

You lift your hips to get off him, plopping your back to the spot beside him. There’s a moment of silence between you two as both try to catch your breath.

“You win…I take back everything I've said” Sangyeon breathes out.

“W-what?” you reply, confused by his words.

“If you allow me to keep fucking you like this…” He gulps down his saliva.

“…you can be the top student all you want from now on.”

[shingekinomyfeelings]

Shh (Reiner x female reader; smut, PWP; mdni please)

nsfw. canon universe, alt timeline, 104th cadet training era in which characters are aged up to 18+. ~700 words. content warning for implied penetration and explicit dialog. contains dirty talk, reader getting railed on a dresser, and Reiner being a horrible little tease

You might be a little shy about being overheard, but Reiner sure isn't.

notes: let me say it again so we're super clear here - characters in my fics set during the cadet era should be assumed to be aged up to 18+, in a very slightly less miserable world in which training doesn't start at age 13. If this is really objectionable to you, that's okay, you don't need to read it.

This is by far my filthiest bit of writing as of yet, and my first pure PWP bit. At first I was kind of mortified about sharing it! I'd never even tried to write anything approaching dirty talk before and was worried it would be super 'off' and, you know, reflective of my being an asexual who's never touched a dick, and posted it sort of... hoping only a few people would read it - and then pretty few people did. But, somehow, over time I started feeling way more confident about and maybe even proud of this one, and honestly wishing I'd hyped it up more. It still feels weird for me to share smut with anyone, but I'm ngl, writing shit this shamelessly horny is actually a lot of fun. What's happened to me?

Anyway, love it or not, thank you for reading and for giving me an audience for trying new things like this. I think it's what pushes writers to grow.

Oh yeah, there are also some minor edits from the original version because I can't help myself.

originally published January 2023

Training exercises in the interior are rare, but they also come with a rare perk – you get to spend the night at an actual inn, with your own rooms and soft, comfy beds.

Currently, though, you’re not on the soft, comfy bed. Having slipped quietly from your room and sneaked off to Reiner’s, you’re currently seated on the dresser, clothes wantonly discarded across the floor, hair falling over your shoulders as your boyfriend stands, fucking into you with a desperation that you can only assume is inspired by the elegant change of scenery.

It’s certainly easier to sneak around at a place like this, and while you were a little tired after training and would have been content just to lay in bed with him and cuddle, Reiner was never one to waste an opportunity. He was also as charmingly persuasive as ever, those imploring golden honey eyes coaxing you into an exercise that was far more pleasant than training ever was.

Squeezing your breasts, kissing your neck, soft, deep moans offering a counterpoint to yours, Reiner is a sweeter and more exuberant partner than you imagine there may be behinds these walls...

That doesn’t change the fact that you’re currently in very close proximity to the rest of the 104th, though.

When a series of especially enthusiastic thrusts suddenly cause the dresser to rattle loudly against the wall, you’re more than a little mortified to imagine that the others are probably still awake in their own rooms and press your lips to Reiner’s neck with a hiss. “Shh! What if the others hear that?”

“Mm, hear what? The dresser?” He repositions you a little so that you’re forced to look into his eyes, a brow raised in amusement as he makes absolutely no effort to soften his pace. “That could be anything, for all they know, dove.”

But then a wicked little smile spreads across his face, and he slides your hips forward and angles them wider to let himself sink in deeper. Your tiny gasp only makes his smirk broaden.

“Or,” he continues, leaning in so his lips are nearly brushing against your ear, his thrusting into you becoming quite agonizingly deliberate, “Are you worried they’ll hear something else? Like how good I’m fucking you right now? Doesn’t bother me one bit.”

His voice is soft and just above a whisper, and his breath is warm against your skin. Your own breath is quickening a little and your cheeks feel like they’re on fire in response to his teasing, but you find you’ve lost any inclination to admonish him - and he’s so fucking annoyingly aware of it. A little huff of a chuckle almost feels like a caress against your cheek.

“Think they can hear how soaking wet this pussy is every time I slide my fat fucking cock into it? I sure can.”

A whimper escapes your throat and your voice slips out as a whine. “F-fuck, Reiner...” You’d hate to admit it, but his words affect you in ways he can feel all too well.

Reiner’s exhalations are growing shaky now, like your response is a call of encouragement. “Are you afraid they can hear those cute little sounds you make? Mmph – your sweet little whimpers? The way you say my name like it’s the only word you know? Shit--” He rests his forehead against yours for a few heartbeats, voice almost slipping into something softer. “Not gonna lie, I do like being the only one who’s ever heard those...”

He’s quick to recover from this lapse, though, and being keenly aware of how close you’re getting, he moves his hips against you faster, and sweetly kisses your forehead. “Don’t care if they hear the rest, though. Honestly, I fucking want them to hear it and know it’s my hot cum spilling out of you right now. I could keep on filling you up with my cum until they can hear it dripping onto the fucking floor.”

And then in an instant, he pauses, tilting your head back to fix you with that smug, infuriating, gorgeous grin of his. “Of course I can stop if you’re really that scared they’ll hear us.”

With mild irritation evident in your voice, you pull him against you so you can press your lips fervently to his neck again. “I think I can live with them hearing.

[yo1gi]

summary: you meet isagi at a coffee shop because of a strawberry parfait

warnings: isagi is rather popular in this scenario, flirty isagi at the end? not proofread

strawberry sunday

you were bored out of your mind while trying to finish some of your homework before school tomorrow at a coffee shop nearby your house.

you had been procrastinating about doing homework during the weekends which ended in everything pilling together. you hoped that the change in location will lighten the glum mood of doing homework. (it didn’t)

you were desperately trying to forget that you had even more worksheets and question papers stacked in front of you ; right beside them was a cup of peach ice tea that arrived not too long ago and it was the only thing keeping you going at the moment.

you mentally groaned, wishing you can just relax now with no worries about your lame homework. you were literally daydreaming at this point - mind so caught up in your own world.

“oh, didn’t expect to see you here!" a bright voice that sounded a bit too familiar disturbed your train of thought.

you glanced at the source of the sound, only to see the one and only isagi - your school’s sweetheart.

puzzled was all you felt during that time. you weren’t exactly the closest to him but you had a fair share of greetings with each other, he was the nice popular boy in school after all. plus, he played football which made him gain lots of fangirls as well, though you also couldn’t quite deny that he was an attractive boy.

“hi?” was all you could say to the blue-eyed boy. you were extremely confused. were both of you friends? could you guys even be labelled as friends with the minimal interaction you guys have?

“mind if i sit here?”

you gaped at him in silence, never in your life expecting his question. you could kinda tell he was oblivious to the awkward conversation he had just continued when he was still grinning joyfully, flexing you with his signature cute boy smile. ngl it charmed you

“uh, sure.”

you were of course, reluctant but you didn’t have the heart to reject the smiley boy in front of you.

“i rarely see you around, what brings you here today?”

you were glad that he was the one that strike the conversation because you obviously weren’t going to.

“just wanted a change in location, what about you?”

“i heard from a couple of friends that the strawberry parfait here was good, so i came to see what’s the hype all about!”

you chuckled lightly, slightly surprised about the sudden enthusiasm from isagi.

“sorry, i got overexcited! i just really like strawberry desserts.” he quickly shared as his hands scratched the nape of his neck.

you didn’t know the isagi yoichi had such an awkward side to him. he was usually a lot more carefree and outgoing in school. you were weirdly attracted to his cute demeanour.

“it’s okay, i like them too.” you continued as you tried to reassure the embarrassed boy which to your attempt, did. his big blue eyes brightened after hearing what you said. you can’t help but stare into them; they were very pretty.

“really? we could share the parfait, i don’t mind!”

your eyes slightly widened as you were caught off guard by his straight forward question. it’s not everyday that you have a cute boy sharing his beloved strawberry parfait with you.

“oh no, you should enjoy it, you really wanted to try it, didn’t you?”

“i did but i don’t mind sharing because it’s you.” he said nonchalantly.

you froze. you had to do a double take on what he said. it was quite a lot to take in for your racing heart.

as you were about to ask him about it, you were unfortunately cut off by a voice.

“hi, here’s your strawberry parfait, please enjoy!”

at this point, you weren’t even listening, your mind was still stuck at that moment.

there was an inner turmoil present in your mind. would it be weird if i ask him about it now? you thought hard for an answer.

your answer: whatever, i’ll just ask him. i’m way too curious to stop now.

“hey isagi..” you escape your train of thoughts, only to see him staring at you - the parfait untouched.

“hm?”

you were taken aback with his stare that you have completely forgotten your purpose of calling him and it ended with you all over the place.

“why is it suddenly so hot in here?” you chuckled nervously while your hands reached for your ice tea, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of you at the same time.

“is it? i think it’s fine though,” you’re not even sure if he did it on purpose or is just awfully oblivious, “have some dessert to cool you down!”

he scooped up a good amount of it on the spoon and moved it towards my mouth. he isn’t going to feed me, is he?

he certainly is.

you froze pt 2. you definitely didn’t expect this from him.

“come onn, my hands getting tired.” he complained with a small pout on his lips. how is he so cute?!

you reluctantly ate it from the spoon, though you were extremely flustered at the sweet gesture. you were about to explode.

“how was it?” he asked sweetly before feeding himself the long awaited goodness.

the gears in your brain were turning. wait. hold on.

it was the same spoon.

your cheeks flushed red at the thought of the indirect kiss you just had. you were slowly starting to believe that he’s doing this on purpose.

“it’s really good!” isagi exclaimed, “i really like it, do you like it?

you mustered up all the energy you had left with a small yes.

“it’s really sweet though..”

“yeah, kind of.”

“like you.”

that was all your weak heart could take. let’s just say you got scolded by your teacher for unfinished homework because your brain was too busy with having that certain scenario playing on repeat.

[rui-drawsbox]

halo halo this might be out of blue but may i ask how’d you fall in love w Baxter? I wanna hear the story of like how you started to like him if you don’t mind sharing . tysm!!and i love all your artworks!!!!

AGHHHHHHH i was about to go to sleep but healty schedules are overrated. Take a sit cuz this is gonna be LONG bc i dont know how to get to the point (jump right to the end to get the 3 lines resume lmao)

if you ask me why i like right now: he's a dramatic loser. But that was when i finally understood his character! you wouldn't be surprised if tell you that i'm an idiot right? i'm super slow to read between lines and understand people, that applies to fictional characters too lmao (+add that english isn't my first language) So! at first i didn't actually understood what was going on with -well- anything :D.

Took me a few playthroughs to actually understand the game in general, i started to play before step 4 was out so all i could do was play and replay different ways to fall in love with Cove (starting to crush at step3 was my fav) but tbh he was never my *type*, Derek was interesting but just bc he like us by default. Even after playing his dlc i felt like he was just a really good friend (which was kinda weird bc to this point i've just played his romantic route). So, what's different with Baxter?

To begin with! he's... he's....... huhh my first impression wasn't actually strong tbh, i was like "huh new guy to date yay". I didn't actually understood his character the first few playthroughs ngl. I started in fond ofc to get into the dlc but *I* was pretty indifferent, probably in Drinks where we finally see Morning Baxter was that i said "oh shit he's cute" and cuteness+gapmoe is enough to make me fall for any character tbh.

But! that was not enough to provoke a brainrot like this right? i'm the "Oh i love this *forgets about in a week*" type. What sealed the deal (badum tss) was probably bc of the fandom? Once i was done replaying the dlc 5 times in a row i went straight to tumblr to feed of headcanons, fanarts and fanfics. My favorite way to understand a character is thru the fandom tbh, my favs are the long aa essays talking about a character personality.

Long story short, he was dramatic troubled flirty gap-moe guy (my fictional type, coincidentally) with an excellent storyline. I still wasn't 100% into him but he was top1 romatic choice for me (sorry Cove and Derek, love ya but platonically), so i made 2 fanarts for his dlc in may and let the hype die... only for 6 months otherwise we wouldn't be here, would we?

AH-HA-HEM the day 28th of november, beginnings of summer, i went out in the morning to do some errands with my mom, we stopped to buy vegetables in our way home and she bought a small watermelon bc i love them. That same afternoon i was eating it and thought "watermelons are finally here, summer it's officially here!" and got struck with Olba memories like a sleeper agent. (made a minicomic abt that, that's why i have the exact date lol) SO i replayed the game again, reading everything again, and oh boy i finally understood so many things, one of those things was Baxter himself!

A lot of stuff made sense once i actually took the time to comprehend his character with the information i gained out of the game (mainly all the asks ppl sent to gb). Add the way that i always played like *me* on my first playthroughs of anything and then you'll notice why he hit me so hard, it felt like i wasn't giving him enough credit before dasjkfas.

Tbh his dlc is my fav bc it has such a strong storyline, you get to know him and his insecurities thru all step 3, and have a lot of sweet moments too! (and that night goodbye?? omg it hits me so hard bc it's right after the ending song) and because step 4 it's right after you go with all the fresh memories of your summer together and seeing him so cold towards you it's so painful but also so funny because HA I CAN SEE THRU YOUR FACADE YOU STILL LIKE ME HAHAHA and i finally knew the perfect word for him: loser.

Anyways i also did a deep dive in the Olba and Baxter Ward tag here in tumblr and eat pretty much everything, also helped me to get a better grasp for all the little details i didn't noticed before bc haha i told you im an idiot?

sO yeah i made a few drawings of my Mc interacting with the characters, surprisingly it got a lot of attention from the fandom so i made a few more and when i noticed i was deep into the brainrot and i wasn't able to draw anything besides my Ruri and Baxter being cute lmao

Funfact. Ruri is a variation of Rui (duh) that i used in games when i didn't feel like i wanted to be called my name directly, now that she expropriated me of that name i use Ruru, i'm so creative right?

Long story short: it was mix of the game itself, fandom content and people actually liking my oc content. The fandom is super welcoming with everyone's oc's i love that akjdlfhask

ajksdfhasjk WOAH THAT IS SO LONG i def went over the top didnt i? I tried to explain my train of thought and fill the spaces where my memory is blurry with stuff i think i would've thought at the moment, it's also 3am so im- not entirely here tbh hjadfhkj

ANYWAYS THANKYOU ANON FOR LETTING ME RAMBLE I LOVE TALKING TO NO ONE IN SPECIFIC ABOUT THE THINGS I LOVE LOVE YAA<333

[spitdrunken]

I want to be groomed (as an adult lmao) by Lucifer so bad now it's unreal...

He encourages you to tell him your troubles, lets you know he'd never judge you - whatever you're going through he'll be here for you. Always so doting, so happy to help when you fall down. It's weird but it's not. An unusual relationship, but one that comes so natural for him it feels normal to you too.

Which makes it all the harder when he starts acting that wee bit weird. When you find yourself sharing and relying on him more than you ever should have gotten comfortable with and you realize far too late how hard it is to tell him no. How much you stand to lose. The power he holds over not only you but your peers and everyone you know too.

The weird, fatherly role he'd slipped into doesn't fade as his actions veer off the road of appropriateness. You're left reeling as he tells you how proud of you he is in a paternal voice while kissing along the backside of your neck. Scolding you for wandering into a dangerous part of Pride like you were some helpless child and then later that night pressuring you into sleeping next to him and being just a bit too touchy-feely while you're trying to sleep.

Ngl I think a degree of infatilization on his part would be kinda creepy-hot too.

Hope this isn't too much (length-wise or content-wise). What you've written has given me brainworms.

HEY i don't know what went wrong but the recent post i wrote, this one, is a response to this ask! I swear that I saved it to the concepts with this ask, but somehow it didn't end up attached... SOB either way Anon I love your thoughts!

[kijosakka]

i have so many hypotheticals for dramaturgy u dont even KNOW (i am going to sit here and go through them though)

so this is all coming up because i was considering a tiny detail about the initial cast relations on island (then turning into this whole. mess.) and wanted to do a little thing where i explore hypotheticals to this au that aren't necessarily 'canon' to it,,

CAST RELATIONS: in my rehash post of island and covering the casts' reactions to noah acting Like That, i say the feeling of uncanny detachedness was immediate. but it could also? not be?

maybe he just comes off as shy at first, or especially standoffish -- perhaps the sense of detachedness is a mounting realization that 'oh this guy is kindof Weird As Hell' instead of an immediate bad sense,, this effectively would not change the cast relations or dynamics at this point, but it would provide more exposition opportunities for cast members to try striking up anything at all with him and getting shut down immediately as opposed to (unintentional) ostracization from the beginning.

^ and also, conflict exploration. not during island, but during his shift in WT, there could be the issue of noah knowing these people already tried and he shut them down each and every time, so what reason do they have to give him yet another chance? (is it worth the emotional risks and potential hurt and no gains, etc etc)

PHOBIA FACTOR: as it is, 'canon' to the AU noah gets eliminated during dodgebrawl (which is necessary for his general character), but phobia factor is a lovely little 'consequences of forgetting about the cameras' if on a much smaller scale.

now,, im ngl this sounded a lot more fun than it is actually going to be. because the simple answer is just that noah lies. put in this position -- if his onscreen character is forced to have depth, then it will be fake for his own peace of mind.

^ the only thing that would potentially happen is that it would, in a way, isolate him from his castmates further, simply because his reaction,,, Isn't. the fear among the cast as they face their greatest fears is shared -- except for noah. because its not genuine. his reaction comes off as flat (and even then the response that he is showing is further, repeated theme, uncanny valley. to have never seen this guy fearful performing some facsimile of it? Weird.)

SIERRA / WT PAN-OUT: ok,, sierras role here is very closely connected to the other idea mentioned here -- a wt hypothetical season play-out,, thing. while not 'canon' to the au for the simple fact that noah has Little to No development in this and thats the point, im spilling all my 'what-ifs' and might as well include this one.

theres actually,, a shocking number of moving parts to this. to summarize: tyler is eliminated in noahs place in london (mostly to keep numbers even), and thus takes his place witnessing the Kiss.

^ im not sure why tyler would be eliminated honestly. havent thought that through. however i do have something mapped out (kinda) for the trajectory of the love triangle,, being that noah doesnt do Anything. it boils over eventually, obviously, since duncan and gwen both know that he knows, im thinking around picnic at hanging dork? (elimination-wise, between london and picnic [*greece & area 51] cody is eliminated, sierra is Struggling but i do need her here for future plot purposes)

[*greece; noah volunteers before duncan in the scavenger hunt and along the way kiiinda talks with gwen?? just a little, just kinda nudging her in a direction away from any Dramatic, Exploitable behaviors]

^ so noah says nothing, right? he doesnt want to get involved in this Plotline, but he can get duncan to spill. so he does that -- talks to others, sometimes points over at him, and through the two challenges and the time between ends up freaking duncan out enough that he confronts noah post-picnic (theyre just outside the plane getting uhhh idk drinks. its Hot.) while the cameras arent rolling. the cast is around though.

duncan spills it all by himself, noah has a little moment of 'i didnt tell anyone, but you just did' -- courtney is pissed, but duncan is downright furious and gets all in noahs face, to which he responds much like he did at the very beginning of island: he doesnt.

he says something to the effect of 'if youre looking for a reaction, im the wrong person to look for it in' (or he doesnt say anything -- this is a work in progress) and Leaves. i also do like the mental image of noah spilling whatever drink he has down duncans shirt to force him away in a manner that doesnt make noah reveal any (perceived sense of) vulnerability via stepping back himself.

not much else on that -- just that post-challenge i also like the idea of noah being physically close to owen after. idk to what ends,, owen just wants to Comfort (< see also, noah can have a little breakdown in the showers or smth. a tiny one. its been far too long having to keep this all up and being close and not even properly involved in some of the drama of the show is making him crack whether he shows it or not)

^ and (im ngl i do imagine gwen being eliminated here? again, semantics r lost on me in favor of the Numbers) now,, sweden comes: duncan definitely believes anything with noah is nuked, so sucks up to owen and alejandro both in similar ways. basically like how canon went, etc etc noah is back to fading into the background.

however post-sweden offers up duncan&noah interactions. say duncan has had time to cool off and now wants to know why noah didnt say anything; noah deflects, bc of course he does, but does talk duncan into a kindof realization of just how much the show itself impacted his relationship with courtney -- not at the moment, but later it would serve to duncan to characterize noah a little better (and by a little i mean a lot); being, he's keenly aware of the cameras and the audience.

niagra brawls,, everything most goes, save the pairing are changed a bit: heather and alejandro, owen and blaineley, duncan and sierra, and courtney and noah. < courtney and noah win immunity (note: courtney definitely carries him across). post-challenge, noah point-blank tells courtney that hes sorry and that he shouldve come to her immediately.

^ courtney,, appreciates the genuine apology. she asks him why he didnt -- noah is, for once, honest, saying it was mostly a selfish reason and he didnt want the fallout. (smth smth he can truly hold sympathy abt the situation, knowing just how badly the presence of cameras can Fuck Things Up)

now. i swear ill circle around to sierra eventually but i need to talk about blaineley really quickly. so dramaturgy right?? noah is In The Business. i had it in the very original post of this (rb, covering cast dynamics) that noah did not like blainely. i renege. bffs. absolute shit-talkers together.

^ the point of that is that noah talks her out of the alliance with chef. im not actually sure what that does bc i still intend for blaineley to be eliminated post-china (aswell as courtney probably idk?? could be switched with duncan) but maybe she also has smth to say about how detached noah acts?? (see also the little scene concept thing of chris pointing out just how unnerving it was seeing noah act so lifeless)

also: noah wins. the china challenge. master of keeping a Flat Face. (note: he definitely does vomit immediately after. sick for Hours)

the semantics kinda fizzle out from here, but in essence noah floats his way to the final three à la cody style (does not want to be there also) and on the way kinda bonds with sierra? < that brings up another little correction ill rb onto another post at some point; sierra, while initially holding the intrigue as opposed to dislike of noahs detachedness, does in fact grow to find it unnerving. seeing him through a screen? really fun! being around him? ...not so much.

^ sierra, through noahs Magical Advice Powers That He Has In This Pan-Out For Some Reason, does earn herself advice from him about her obsessiveness or whatever. havent thought about it too much and actually propped sierra up as me having way more to say about her than i actually do,, but they do bond. they get a little bonding.

also: plane explosion. theres a little scene here that lives in my head wherein heather, frazzled from the explosion and having voted against alejandro, kinda blows up at noah? lashing out at him etc etc,, noah, par for the course, doesnt react -- mostly. he does just get up and leave, and both heather and alejandro get to hear one tiny little intake of breath that sounds vaguely like he might be crying. but he is Gone. (he breaks down around the interns instead, and fully resolves to himself that this is the final three and he was definitely making third place)

anyway beyond that i think it would be funny if the tiebreaker was actually heather and alejandro and noah some how finagles his way out of being tied up to be the first person to hit the water. thus taking himself out of the game and promising a 'dramatic finale between rivals' like hes very aware chris was gunning for.

^ this is,, tbh idk how 'canon' any of this will be?? if ill keep this as a loose outline and just change noahs character and dynamics,, idk idk. its getting late i cant really think and my god this is so so so much longer than i intended.

[bloom-ribbon22]

Bloom's Dinotrux HUMAN AU infodump: D-Bros + Skrap-itt

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I know I already posted them but I still wanna put em here + front facing D-Structs(unrelated note: don't usually do front faces much, I have tried it probably two times and it either ends up looking weird or just not right but I do like how it turned out this time! hmm maybe I should do more characters front facing).

anyways, I've always wanted to infodump share some bits of lore, facts, info, and other stuff of my human AU version of the Dinotrux and I kind of started with the D-bros + Skrap-itt, why? ngl they're one of the most interesting characters to me. soooooo here you go :)

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D-Stroy:

-when D-Structs was born, D-Stroy looked at his parents while pointing at his new baby sibling and asked "mom, dad.... why does he look so ugly?"

-a very mischievous kid back then. he was the ultimate pranker. he pranks a lotta people that he almost lost count of them but his favourite pranking victim is you guessed it! ya boi D-Structs! oh poor poor young, bratty, selfish D-Structs... always having silly stuff drawn on his face when he was asleep and almost getting scared to death everytime his brother just jumpscares him...I'd list more but this is getting way too long lol.

-hair is l o n g and messy af. you can probably store/hide items in there idk.

-has a high tolerance for spicy food and also enjoys eating it.

-even as a kid, he always gets into fights and still does which results to him always receiving new scars/injuries. almost never minds it because with all honesty he doesn't really give a shit what he looks like. even though he is incredibly strong, he knows his limits and also knows he isn't invincible or indestructible so he tries his best not to overestimate his strength and avoid battles if he knows he can't win it.

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D-Structs:

-was already a selfish guy when he was a bratty little kid and a bit of a snitch too. when he was five and D-Stroy would do something to him, even something that's completely harmless like slightly nudging his arm this left D-Structs no choice but to use a move that every older sibling fears "MAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

-heavily dislikes the taste of sweets. can't really handle it, the taste of sugar and the feeling of it melting into his tongue is just....sickening, maybe even irritating...in fact, it's unbearable....

-similarly to D-Stroy, he often gotten to a lotta fight even as a kid and still does which ends up getting himself new scars/injuries. most of these fights are pretty much his fault as most of the time he's the one that's starting/asking for it.

-"I'd rather live my life all alone until I die" that's what he thought to himself until Skrap-itt came to his life. story between them was kinda similar to the canon. it was so hard for him to tolerate this talkative and dumb lil pipsqueak but as time goes on he kind of started to get used to his company that it feels oddly weird whenever he's alone... sometimes...after all, Skrap-itt was the only one that gives a fuck about him...

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Skrap-itt:

-short king. you can kick him like he's a football or better yet, pick him up like he's some kind of cat and maybe even put him in a box, seal it shut, and deliver it to any random person. "your order is here"

-a cat person. he understands them, he knows they're not just annoying animals always whining for food 24/7, they are loving and caring too! they're not just, y'know, not that playful...at least..most of the time...he would adopt a cat but sadly D-Structs not really a big fan of pets in his home.

-was the weird lonely kid who often gets picked on a lot and many avoided him because, again, a weirdo and thus lived a pretty lonely life. Smash-itt, Break-itt and Lloyd are often the ones picking on him which would explain why Skrap-itt is so bitter to them when he meets them again, worse part is that D-Structs, though completely unaware of their history, """hired""" them.

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that's all for now, there will be plenty more(and I may add more stuff) and of course I'll make some for Ty and the gang :) fun but not needed fact: I started to type all of this with 11 percent battery and now it's 7 percent....dang

anyways I'm coming back to school at January 3 and I'm scared af sidbdiebsisbisbsisjd-

[lovl3igh]

https://www.tumblr.com/happymixxx/746225616625565696/do-you-really-believe-that-aegon-should-have-been?source=share

I just hope you're also worried about the punishment for the Daemon for killing his wife. By the way, how should he be punished for this?

ngl it's weird that the thing you decided to ask after my opinion about aegon being a rpist is what to do with daemon with a crime in no way related to rpe as if daemon was mention here, related to the post or as if I defended him for sth

i'll add that i don't understand why the scene where he kills rhea was even in the show while that didn’t happened in the book. also his relations with laena and rhaenyra are worse here too, as if creators wanted demonize daemon in context of his romantic relations, which wasn't necessary. daemon never was a good person and staying loyal to book wouldn't change that, he has plenty of faults for which he should have been punished

answering the question: for murder punishment would be the wall or execution and knowing daemon the second option is better. there's no way that daemon would kept the night's watch oath. unfortunately we also can be sure he would ask for the trial by combat prefering to die or - what more likely - win and be free. this way ofc he would be at least officially named a criminalist by the king, left without prospects (similar as after ep 5) but he would in no way could marry laena so I see him either being in essos by himself or running away with rhaenyra to dragonstone and marrying her (ik it's not the point of the question but i love good what if so let me have my moment since that kind of question occured)

another thing is that there's no proof that he killed her, only assumptions (unlike with aegon's crimes), therefore he wasn't judged at all and only as watchers we can demand justice knowing that's not gonna happen. as a great in my opinion character i'd like to keep daemon alive so (if trial by combat wasn't a thing) i'd go for the wall as a punishment but judging him as a person for his crimes he should be executed

[dcwnthercbbithcle]

SALLY SHIPS AND WANTED RELATIONS OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD (I will add into this with stuff I forget)

SALLY AND OTHER GHOSTS, does not need to be inherently romantic but can be if a partner wants it to be! Either with burning hatred or a really, almost uncharacteristically gentle demeanour. Sally is never ‘eh,’ when it comes to the matter of spirits. You either oppose her and stand as a threat to the flock of lost spirits she cares for, or you will soon join them as one of their numbers! Either way I want Sally to be in both positions! BRING OUT HER WEIRD GHOST EMOTIONS!!!

SALLY AND A PARTNER: more in the broad sense but Sally doesn’t love in a… typical manner. And I’d love to explore the spooky dynamics of her in a relationship with another being: dead like her or alive! ESPECIALLY if it involves a lot of growing pains on either side which leads to character growth or regression!

SALLY AND ANDREW, this is the most out there but at some point I’d kill to have Sally and her deceased husband interact, either prior to his death or when they found each other again in the afterlife… which left Sally killing him because she refused to accept her Andrew would be anything less than in love with her after everything. BUT STILL!!! THE ANGST!!!

Sally X Huntress is a big ship I’m a fan of! I think the gals would be very adorable together, at least until Sally learns that their shared trauma of losing children isn’t shared in the typical sense and that Anna’s been killing her kid’s families, stealing them and then losing them to disease and hypothermia! After that there’s some rich room for angst, or we could just avoid that entirely!!!

Sally x Artist could be interesting! I’ve seen art of it around and a couple of morbid gals at least bonding together over art wouldn’t be remiss! Even if it never gets beyond platonic!

I THINK SALLY AND ADIRIS WOULD BE REALLY CUTE NGL, I don’t have any justification but I think Sally SHOULD clean and dress her wounds lovingly!

I THINK SALLY COULD AND SHOULD BE PUT AROUND HAPPY FAMILIES, not in the sense of her destroying them but rather destroying her. I think she should feel anguish for what she wants and guilt for feeling dissatisfied with the flock of ghosts she’s gathered. She doesn’t want them afterall, she wants her family with Andrew, but she couldn’t have that. So she tried to set them (being herself and her patients) free from this world, but that didn’t work. So now she’s trying to combine the two and she feels incredibly numb and hurting for a comfort from something she’ll never have

GIVE SALLY KIDS AND ADULTS THAT NEED ADOPTING, GIVE HER PEOPLE SHE CAN ATTACH HERSELF TOO AND BE THE MOST MURDEROUS GUARDIAN ANGEL

SALLY AND DOCTOR MORALLY REPREHENSIBLE ADVENTURES!!! This is 99% for her Survivor Verse and exclusively platonic but I think they should overpower a killer and experiment on them to try and deduct ways to disable them in trials long enough to escape! Sally and Herman should be out here making the other survivors worry that their teammates are killers, even though they’ve never been anything friendly to them!

Personally, I do not see Sally romantically with Max or Phillip, per my understandings of the character and Trapper isn’t exactly into women! But hey! I’m willing to change per another persons portrayals and if they wanted to! I have some cute dynamic ideas too! Though they’re mostly plantonic!

I think Sally x Oni could be cute! Given they are both people stranded outside of any time period they understand or can relate to and are extremely isolated in that regard and can understand and provide sympathy to both the intense unease with the changing times around them; and also how those changing times have brought death to their livelihoods and any respect they had in the worlds they originated from! Plus plus, they’re both firmly subscribed to the ‘If anything happens to Rin I am slaughtering everyone in this realm,’

[littleshysheep-at-da]

Hello, I like your art can you share some Sasajima Kyouya/Wrath headcanons? He’s my favourite character.

OHMYGOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH???

*cracks knuckles* YOU’VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE. Honestly he’s my Favorite too! A decent of my Headcanons for him revolve around my OT3 or the Demon Army Family so here we go!

This may contain vague Spoilers and I may edit this for grammar or to add more details…

Honestly consider this part 1 because if you ask again later I’d probably have even more written down lol.

(I’m ripping this from my KumoDesu Fanfic ideas Doc so if some of the wording is wonky that’s why btw THERE’S A LOT)

To start I’ve def said this before here: Things to note I’m obsessed with my headcannon of Shun x Katia x Kyouya as an OT3 and there is zero content but I have a million ideas but no energy. Also you can rip the headcannon of the demon army as family with Ariel x Shiraoi as the parents to Mera, Sophia, and Kyouya (and YES I have a long winded modern and other AUs shut up) from my cold dead hands.

Shiro and Kyouya Mother-Son: The Labyrinth and the Mountains are probably the 2 harshest environments in the world. So I like to think that because of growing up in these environments Shiro and Kyouya both have some weird but similar values. I’ve always kinda seen them very much as Mother and Son. The Labyrinth was harsher so she has some more insane survival methods and he sort of looks up to it. (Side note: I know some people Ship them and I never want to throw discourse, you’re allowed to ship whatever you want so don’t want to say much, but personally I hate it very much I could go into why but it’s mostly my character reads and taste). Ariel and Shiro give off so many Mom vibes when it comes to Mera, Kyouya, and Sophia to me lol (and yes they would be siblings in that order I don’t remember where but I think the LN said Goblins have shorter pregnancies so Kyouya is slightly older than Sophia lol). Sophia especially with Kyouya reads as the “no one is allowed to bully my Brother but me” vibes and I love it. Her and Kyouya also both definitely look up to Mera as someone who’s well put together.

For the hair of the non-human reincarnations: Shiro’s hair feels like silk. Fei’s hair feels like feathers. And Kyouya’s hair feels like soft animal down. I bet Katia asks to play with Kyouya’s hair and then has a flied day with how soft it is. I also like to think she tries to convince him to let her do his nails lol.

For lifespan: So Shiroai is immortal, I’m assuming Ariel has a long life span close to that (ignoring the end of the novel with Ariel spoilers), and Mera and Sophia are somewhere in the same boat or close to that… How long is Kyouya’s lifespan??? For most angst is he gonna outlive his human friends but die before his demon family???

Goblins are just Hamsters: The Goblins look like they’re based on Hamster so you can not take away from me the Headcanon they’re language is just Hamster noises. I like to think Kyouya teaches it to the others so they can use it as code. (The Demon Army can communicate purely with inhuman noises lol). I like to think Kyouya purrs instead or snores because of this as well. I also like to think because he grew up around the Goblins he just sees them as people and doesn’t get what everyone thinks they look like.

Kyouya’s height: Kyouya was a manlet before reincarnation it's cannon I’m living. Okay and technically speaking he probably is after reincarnation as well. Like they are in a European Fantasy setting and he’s only “considerably taller than he used to be” which was considerably short for a Japanese High Schooler. Also in Ex2 we see him standing next to a Puppet Taratect (which are all short af) yet they come up to his shoulder.

Housewife vibes: I think what Kyouya wants in life is to be a Housewife ngl. Like he was most satisfied working to support people he was close to both in his past life online game and the goblin village. Plus I think though he did that by making weapons he would prefer not to have to fight. What if he makes good knives and just starts cooking for people. Like I don’t have more words right now so this is short but I could go off here.

My OT3 Agenda: Background: I’m just saying Kyouya is really depressed and probably doesn’t have any plans for after the war but I could see Ariel having in him work in the human area with Shun and Katia (probably cause she feels a bit sad about him losing friends) because he’s in their upper ranks and unlike Sophia can actually deal with people. But I feel like Shun and Katia feel bad that they had each other and he had to grow up all alone so they try and reconnect. Shun, because he really clings to the connections he does have and because they were so close in their past lives, desperately wants to rebuild that. Katia because she seems similarly attached to people she considers friends she’s afraid of losing that and probably feels bad for writing Kyoua off as maybe an enemy and not being there for him like she was for Shun. Kyouya is just deeply confused that they still want anything to do with him and feels undeserving but is really happy. Confession: I think Katia knows about her feelings first but doesn’t say anything due to self esteem issues (except some flirting to test the waters). I think Kyouya has a realization ™ and feels unsure of what to do (also self esteem issues). But ends up visibly being a little off which Shun notices and brings up to Katia (she sorta noticed as well) so she confronts him which ends in a mutual confession between the two as they then decide how to tell Shun. Shun meanwhile worried what’s going irks Fei who decides to inform him of his very obvious (to everyone but him) crushes. Now realizing his feelings he’s very awkward about it until Katia and Kyouya confront him and confession ensues. Now realizing they all love each other: OT3 successful.

Taking this outta the tags: Not even kidding answering asks about KumoDesu because I’ve sort of come to be know as a KumoDesu blog is like,,, I’m living my dream right now. I haven’t even posted my Kumoko Cosplay or that much Art yet but people just wanna hear my opinion???? Literally these asks give me so much dopamine feel free to keep them coming.

[stewykablooey]

i'd like to hear your thoughts on shiv's homophobia if you have any? 👀 ngl i did a double take when you called her homophobic—clearly she can conveniently use homophobia to emasculate her interlocutor, but i don't think she has any deep-seated beliefs of the sort, unlike kendall and his misogyny and the fact that he doesn't want to involve her in the business partly because of that

which brings us to

she'd probably replicate the sympathy/solidarity thing with stewy too, in this case because she's a woman and he's a brown man, paired with the fact that the two of them, unlike kendall, 1) can't simply conceal who they are, 2) are not allowed to assert masculinity in an aggressive way. quite obviously shiv's relationship to stewy is largely mediated by their respective relationships with kendall but i won't say more

hi <3

you’re right in that shiv is not homophobic in the sense of having deep-seated beliefs on the matter at all, shiv’s issue with gayness has less to do with the physicality of it but more of the gender implications which is to say that shiv’s homophobia is really just an extension of her internalized misogyny. it’s again related with the masculinity aspect, it’s not about how gay you are but how much you will deviate from your gender and most importantly how much of that is a threat to her? in terms of gay men, shiv sees it as just an extended boys club that she cant access even if it’s just through sex and attraction, the one card she can play as a woman (this was first mentioned by @/shesnake and @/akajustmerry in their succession gaytv podcast episode which i highly recommend) but also it’s how much can their masculinity trump their gayness. out of all the siblings shiv is probably the one that shares logan’s ideas of masculinity the most. she thinks ken is too soft and she thinks roman is weird and she thinks connors lame and its because they just dont align to that idea of logan-masculinity (without getting too daddy issues about it lol) which is also why she’s with tom, because he’s just masculine enough but also decidedly not masculine enough to be a real threat to overshadow her.

which all applies to shiv’s relationship to stewy because stewy is the ultimate threat because he plays at both masculinity and femininity like stewy will never be a logan-type masculine and he knows that which is why he plays to his other strengths which is charm and it’s so carefully cultivated on stewys end Because he knows he can never pass as a logan-type masculine so he Has to play up the handsome charm and confidence but also stewy Is inherently masculine in that he definitely fits in as a man even if it’s the asshole insane amounts of money SUCCESS cocaine party animal kind of man, which may not be man enough in logans book but it’s definitely man enough for the world stewy is operating in which is why he can operate in it so successfully and the success is key. stewy’s riches are self made for the most part which gives him power and status in being an earner and a moneymaker but also stewy’s not in a position of leading stewys not vying for ceo he’s not vying to be top dog which is why he doesn’t Need a logan-type masculinity But he still needs some kind of masculinity to stay afloat which goes back to his crucially self-managed image. in terms of shiv, stewy confuses her in that he isnt a logan-type masculine but a) it doesnt bother him/he doesnt want to be and b) he’s still a winner anyway. but also there’s that edge of homophobia in that she’s confused and annoyed about it because she really thinks ‘youre not a real man. why are you thriving here?’ but also with a little bit ‘you’re a little bit feminine you’re a little bit masculine how does that work/im pissed off that that won’t work for me’ but also again going back to ‘being charming is the card i get to play, but now you get to play it too but also again it works for you but not for me’

there is Also of course. racism. shiv would never feel a solidarity with stewy over him being brown and her being a woman because she’s racist. kendall being gay and her being woman has a common denominator of being white before it has a common denominator of being oppressed. the racism also feeds into shiv’s opposition to stewy’s masculinity. ‘you’re not a man’ is as much because he doesn’t fit an idea of masculinity that she understands as much as it is just her not seeing him as as much of a man because he’s not white.