#im just sorry you have to read my handwriting

[takeshitakyuuto]

based on that one post that was going around a month or so ago

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

they had pokedonalds after this ☝️

[whelpimnauthuman]

Guess who updated their fursona!

Introducing Newt Mudpuppy the Dino-dog

(Left is basically default/"normal" form, right is. "Cookie Dough" form, which is basically the same just for fun IG)

[supercantaloupe]

and they were roommates (oh my gd they were roommates)

i was gonna draw more of the crew as college students too but then i got a headache so it's just these two for tonight enjoy

[sohnric]

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: coworkers au, enemies to lovers au. fluff, a poor attempt at comedy. movie theatre! worker sunwoo and reader. bitch boy sunwoo. the reader has anger issues. owner's son! sunwoo being annoying about everything. winter themes, sunwoo is a little kid about stuff but mostly the snow.

wc: 21k

warnings: swearing, a heated make out session. y/n's inner monologue is just my own feelings about this man im sorry. i watched too much of the office when writing this can you tell. also i made sunwoo's sister underage for plot reasons deal with it.

working with kim sunwoo has so far been the worst experience of your whole entire life. just his existence alone is enough to make your day completely miserable– though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.

a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to

ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldn’t really know what to say. 

You see, what may had seemed like your dream job when you were little, acquiring the fairytale vision after going to the cinema for the first time to see the Horton movie when you were just 7, quickly turned into reality one ordinary day during your junior year of university. And it wasn’t even that hard; you just dropped off your CV at the movie theater on the corner of the town's square when you saw the sign that said ‘looking for part-timers’ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass door– and soon enough, you found yourself in the depths of the vintage-looking cinema, wearing the red uniform the owner gave you, selling movie tickets to teenagers and taking out the trash. It’s hard to enjoy the job when you’re on bathroom cleaning duty, though, and the fact that this is what you once imagined to be the most exciting job in the whole entire world turns twice as boring when you realize just how mundane it really is. 

Still, you can’t bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.

Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, it’s kind of boring– especially on the nights when you’re selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hours– but it’s not that difficult. It’s not physically or mentally demanding, so you’d say that you’re still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isn’t a dick and you get paid on time– so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no. 

Until one fateful day, of course. 

You’re met with a person that’s going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.

“So… you’re the new part-timer?” a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. You’re already wearing your uniform when you come through the front door– since you don’t really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive here– and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.

“Yeah,” you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. “And you are…?”

“Sunwoo,” the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know who exactly he is now that he’s introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that you’re still clueless, and see, that’s something that must have played with the boy’s ego. “Kim Sunwoo,” he snickers, “the owner’s son..?”

Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kim’s ever told you about having a son– he hasn’t– you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. “Oh… Hello..?” you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.

“Hi,” he says, face stone cold and motionless. Something’s wrong, but you can’t quite put your finger on it…. 

Well, you’ll have to deal with that later. “My shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him what’s on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,” you try to force out a polite (maybe even warm) smile before you turn on your heel and march towards the staff room, where Mr Kim usually resigns unless he is helping you out with something at the front. See, on not busy days, working at the cinema requires only one person. On Fridays, though, it can get tough. That’s when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same time– sometimes you wonder why he doesn’t hire another person to help out with the job.

“Wait– newbie–”

The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a name– and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didn’t even know about his son, Mr Kim isn’t big on sharing information)– but still, you’d love to be called by it. “It’s Y/N, actually.”

“Oh, right…” he hums, “well, Y/N, dad’s not here tonight, so… I’m… kind of in charge,” he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, “he had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,” he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nods, sucking on his teeth.

Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.

“So…?” you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do. 

Because a guy your age ordering you around at work is already embarrassing enough for a university student just trying to pay for their groceries. You’re not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.

“So… I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?” he suggests, rocking on his heels. The boy seems a bit shaken with the new sense of responsibility, but you figure that even his undoubtful awkwardness still doesn't put you above his position.

You mentally sigh. Cleaning is your least favorite part of the job. 

Still, you’re not gonna talk back to your boss’ son. You’d like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.

“Alright,” you nod, turning on your heels once more and preparing to disappear into the depths of the cinema.

His voice stops you again, though, frustration flowing through your veins. “Don’t forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.”

“Alright,” you nod again, your back facing him.

“Also, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know it’s kind of disgusting, but there’s a-”

“I know how to do my job, thank you,” you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.

You don’t know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe it’s the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like he’s mansplaining everything to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man that’s your age. Or maybe, it’s just the sheer fact that you hate cleaning– the one thing he just told you to do.

Still, you go and get the vacuum. You go and mop the floors, you go and take the gum off the chairs and scrape it into a bucket you keep in the pantry in the back. You go and clean the bathroom, even though it’s 10 minutes until the end of your shift (you only work 4 hours on Wednesdays) and you spent almost your whole day cleaning the whole screening room by yourself (the screening room that’s giant and Mr Kim helps you with on most days). You go and wipe the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the hall. 

You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time you’re out, your back hurts and your knees are all bruised up from getting on the ground so often.

What really sets you off, though, is the sight of the owner’s son sitting in the booth, both legs up on the table and chewing on something, his phone in his hands as he watches, what you presume from the language resonating from the speaker, a silly anime. At least someone had fun during their shift, you think as you leave without saying goodbye to him, slamming the door behind you with a loud bang on your way out.

Quite frankly, you didn’t know what set you off so bad this time. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe it could've been fixed with your next shared shift with the guy– you never know.

Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

If you knew your boss’s son would play the role of your supervisor from time to time, you probably wouldn't have taken the job when it was offered to you. 

Why?

The reason is quite simple– while you go to work to make money, Kim Sunwoo goes to work to make your whole life a living hell. Ranging from always giving you the more difficult task of the day to making unfunny jokes about your performance (he once asked if you ran a marathon after you mopped the whole hall, his grinning figure staring at you from inside of the ticket booth), you’re starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy. 

More so with his recent endeavors. You don’t really know what he’s trying to achieve with all of this, but you’re starting to despise going to work even when you know he’s not on the schedule– somehow, you’re afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when he’s not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really don’t know.

It all starts one day before a movie premiere when Sunwoo walks up to you and introduces you to a new concession item to sell in the snack booth. While you don’t really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyone’s just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you don’t really question the idea much further– Sunwoo’s father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when you’re forced to promote the “Ultimate movie mix” to every customer– which wouldn’t even be that strange, if the mix didn’t include the weird combination of pickles and candy. 

Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didn’t realize the snack stand doesn’t even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasn’t your best experience.

The terror follows when Sunwoo’s father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldn’t be as hard to manage when you run the snack stand, but it does get more difficult when your coworker running around with a lightsaber knocks over all the buckets of freshly-made popcorn you just put on the counter for the customers to take. 

He doesn’t even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch. 

He just laughs.

Sunwoo just loves to laugh at you. Like that one time he made you wear a giant popcorn costume and stand in front of the cinema for the entirety of your 4 hour shift on Wednesday to promote the new movie airing on Friday. Hardly anyone took the fliers you were desperately trying to force into their hands and when you came back, you saw Sunwoo pointing his camera at you from the big glass window. 

The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he forced you to do the dirty business instead.

Another time, Sunwoo informs you via text in the middle of your shift that you should clean the bathrooms. The fact itself already makes you furious, but you follow the order nonetheless– because, well, what else can you do? You’re used to cleaning the toilets, since it’s a part of your job. It’s just the fact that a guy your age told you to that’s making you rethink all your career decisions.

The trip to the bathrooms quickly turns traumatizing when you step inside of the tiled room and have the door behind you close with a loud bang, followed by the light switching off. Screeching, you jump and try to escape the room with fear making your heart run faster than Usain Bolt, however, you find the door seemingly locked– the sound of Sunwoo’s snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how he’s pulling another one of his childish pranks on you again.

When the door finally opens, you throw the toilet brush into his chest and scream out a “I’m going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!”. You’re over all formalities.

That doesn’t mean you’re not scared every time you enter a room in the cinema when you work with Sunwoo, though. Your reaction was strengthened very abruptly, you see.

Sitting in the ticket booth, door ajar to monitor your surroundings, you plop your head on your hand and glare at Sunwoo, chewing on your gum. If anyone saw you right now, they’d think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonight– you were quite enjoying the sight of him wiping the sweat off his forehead and scowling at the neverending flow of customers.

The beauty of having ticket booth duty on premiere night is that everyone bought the tickets beforehand already, meaning that it wasn’t usually busy. Scanning the tickets and running the snack booth were the more difficult parts of the shift, and since Mr Kim decided to show up to work today, Sunwoo was graced with the snack booth duty– something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your boss’s feet in gratefulness. 

There’s just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. You’re in love with his pathetic, tired face.

His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breathe– the look behind them is pleading, almost embarrassingly hopeless as he internally wishes he was in your place. You think this serves him right for the weeks of torture, and when he becomes you to come over with a motion of his hand, you just shrug at him and bat your eyelashes in faked innocence. 

It’s not your fault he’s on duty tonight. What does he want with you?

His lips mouth “Come here,” which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just won’t stop and he’s asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think you’re only valid for feeding on his misery.

“Help!” he mouths again, and now you truly can’t battle the laughter anymore. His hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead. His uniform is dirty. The tie around his neck is loose. The sight makes you utterly satisfied.

As he mouths “Please,” accompanied by clasped hands and a pleading look that would work on most women, you finally decide to stand up from the uncomfortable chair in the ticket booth and shake your head in disbelief. You can’t even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you can’t really risk his father finding out you didn’t come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still can’t lose it in your current living conditions.

Sighing and closing the door to the ticket booth after you, your legs take you to the snack stand. Eyes of enthusiastic customers looking almost high on coca cola and the smell of salted popcorn are on you when you finally reach Sunwoo’s side. 

“So I’m supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when I’m left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?” you jab, annoyed with the turn of events. You find a spare apron and tie it around your waist, not really wanting to dirty your uniform as you pour caramel into some buckets of popcorn, hearing your companion chuckle next to you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so I’ll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-”

“My dad’s watching.”

“This is blackmailing,” you snap back, smiling ironically at your coworker.

Sunwoo grins at you when he hands two cokes to the teenage girls behind the counter, shrugging to himself. “Not my problem.”

You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know you’re always right, but the boy always thinks he should have the last word in everything, which makes ending an argument with him pretty much impossible. That’s why you stopped trying to prove your truth. In your heart, you know how it is, and no amount of snarky remarks from the feisty boy will change your opinion.

You two work alongside each other in silence for some time. You’d even say it’s efficient– you make the popcorn and he makes the nachos, both of you taking turns behind the coca cola machine, and after a few minutes in his proximity when he’s not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two can’t operate like this on a daily basis.

Oh, how foolish of you.

You’re quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwoo’s chest.

It takes everything in you not to scream, but the restraint is deleted as soon as you feel something cold dripping down the front of your uniform, your white button-up suddenly sticking towards your chest in a big, dark-brown pool around your waist area. One sharp look into his eyes is everything it takes you two to come to a mutual understanding of what your next action is gonna be– Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.

“Kim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!” you scream out, the sensation of your cold shirt sticking to your already sweaty skin making you want to crawl out of yourself and scratch your coworker’s eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.

“Look, you don’t have to-”

“I just washed this yesterday, there’s a line of people waiting for their snacks up to the fucking front door, you just ruined the popcorn I made so now I have to redo it, and you just decide to spill this onto me?!” you continue with your rampage, not really caring about the eyes of everyone on you, just letting out all your built-up frustration that creeps inside of you every time you see his face.

“As if I did this on purpose…” he grunts as he turns around in his place and reaches for napkins, not really putting much thought into his actions as he presses the material into the damp place sticking to your skin. 

The image startles you– Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skin– and as you watch his slender palms run over your front, your eyes falling to the fluffy hair at the crown of his head, you feel heat rushing to your insides, making you jump away from him.

“Sorry-” he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.

“I’m starting to think you’re making me do everything just because you’re useless,” you spit at him.

Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t care,” you grunt, walking away from the booth, “I’m going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before I’m back,” you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.

All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwoo’s loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. “I’ll be right with you, miss!” 

If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think you’d say yes.

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

You were quite pleased on your way to work today. It’s Wednesday, which usually means it’s not as busy. The weather is cloudy– good enough to not make you gloomy, but not quite sunny enough to make you wish you were outside instead of being stuck in the cinema the whole afternoon– and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since you’re on ticket booth duty today– another great news. 

The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isn’t working today. 

That alone is good enough to make your whole entire day better. The sun shines brighter, your breathing is lighter, the air is clearer and the birds chirp louder when you know you don’t have to interact with the hellspawn that day. It’s like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worries– who cares about the fact that you’re barely getting through your Biology class when you know you won’t have to stare at Sunwoo’s face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift? 

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as you’re prepared to sit through your 5-hour shift in silence with an occasional swipe through your social media and a well deserved chicken-mayo sandwich towards the end of your shift, it’s quite natural for your smile to freeze and your spirit fall the moment you see the mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors of the cinema. 

“What the fuck is he doing here?” you mourn as he walks by, only realizing you said the sentence out loud when the boy looks at you with a scowled face, a scoff escaping his throat.

“Didn’t know we were speaking to each other in third person now,” he says as he stops in his tracks and plops his head into the door to your booth, infesting your calm abode with his presence.

Deep breaths. In and out, Y/N. In and out… 

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, “having a good day so far?”

“It was better without you here, thank you,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victory– it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.

“Sweet,” he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. “Well, I won’t be long, so don’t let your mood drop too much.”

With that, he’s out of the ticket booth. All that’s left behind him is the smell of his cologne– the tingle of lemon and bergamot filling your nostrils in a way that makes the fine hair at the back of your neck stand up all alert– and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereabouts– you can never know… what if he’s setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldn’t be half surprised. You make a mental note to yourself to be twice as cautious when going to the bathroom next time. Just to make sure.

Before you’re able to think of any possible situations that Sunwoo could get himself caught in (while completely ignoring the fact that his father is somewhere in his office in the back– for all you know, he might just need to talk to your boss, like a son does sometimes), the woodworm of your thoughts appears in your view again, two rolled-up tubes under his shoulder as he walks over to the front door.

“Wait! What are those?” you ask, eyes zeroing on the very clear posters in his grip. The shiny white back of the big posters you have to sometimes put up in the front of the cinema are unmistakable to anything else.

“Posters,” Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building. 

“I know what those are–”

“Then why are you asking?” he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a few steps towards the ticket booth, eyes meeting yours. His figure fills the door frame as he towers over you, still sitting on the chair. His eyes have a different kind of twinkle in them– you think, no, you know it’s mischief– making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.

“Because– well,” you huff, already frustrated, “we’re not allowed to take these,” you say, pointing to the two posters under his shoulder like a kid in the candy store. You try to ignore just how embarrassing you must look right in this moment.

“Oh,” he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, “so you’re telling me… I can’t take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?” 

You’re only half-aware of the fact that he’s teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. “No, Sunwoo. You can’t.”

“Hm,” he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, “that’s terrible. Says who?”

“Your… your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could take–”

“You wanted to take posters home from the cinema?” he gasps, looking at you with big eyes. He looks stupid. So, terribly stupid. Dumb. No thought behind his eyes. You want to smash his head against a concrete wall. 

…He’s teasing you. It finally dawns on you.

Now, you want to smash your head against a concrete wall.

Still, you admit defeat with a solemn tone in your voice. “Well, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroom…” you mumble.

“And my dad said no?” he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.

“Yes, Sunwoo. Your father said it’s prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, that’s exactly why I’m stopping you right now,” you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know he’s enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s following the rules and orders– if Mr Kim says you can’t take the posters home, you’ll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like you’re told to. 

If things were going your way, you’d advise Sunwoo to do the same. 

A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You should’ve been prepared.

“So I can’t take those posters home because my dad said no?” he clarifies, looking like a dummy. Like one of those kids that ask the most obvious questions during exams. Like one of those kids you want to sucker punch in the face.

“Sunwoo–”

“Well, Y/N-ie,” he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, “that’s too bad… because I am the owner’s son, so… the rules don’t really apply to me, you see.”

And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door again– not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesn’t stop at your warnings. He doesn’t care.

And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didn’t last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.

Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face. 

It’s not even that important. It’s just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You don’t even care about those posters in particular– you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.

It’s not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies… not at all.

You could’ve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premiered– not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friend’s name was.

You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.

You should’ve known the day felt too good to be true.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)

There’s a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it ‘Rewind Thursdays’, where he picks a movie from the past and airs it in the theater again to bring out nostalgia in the whole town. You think it’s a good idea– you remember when the Harry Potter movies had a rerun back when you were little, ecstatic that you finally got to see them in the cinema because you missed out on the experience when they were coming out for the first time. You went even though you saw them all before, and you had a blast. So in your books, this was the best thing that could happen to the little, old movie theater on the corner of the town’s square.

You were overbeared with joy when Mr Kim went up to you during one of your slow Wednesday shifts in the ticket booth with a paper and a pen, requesting you to write down your favorite movies. He informed you that he’d prefer it if they were older, to, quote, really get the nostalgia going, and you were happy to have some say in the list of movies to play for multiple reasons. One, because it meant he valued your opinion, and two, you don’t usually work on Thursdays, so if your favorite movie is on that day, you can go and relax in the cinema while watching it.

This all happened a few weeks ago. You gave the list back to your boss at the end of your shift, smiling brightly just thinking about it, and he told you he’ll get through it and see what he can incorporate. 

The plan gets to you on one uneventful Wednesday. You are stuck in the ticket booth again. Today is one of the Wednesdays where Sunwoo is in charge, because Mr Kim is out of town. You hate those days most of them all, but recently, he’s been giving you your freedom and letting you work in the ticket booth instead of cleaning the already clean cinema, saying he has stuff to do in the back. You suspect he just sits around in his father’s office with his legs on the table, chewing on his obnoxious strawberry mints. The image makes you furious only the tiniest bit, because the fact that he’s out of your sight and isn’t ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.

“I have the schedule of ‘Rerun Thursdays’ all done,” Sunwoo says as he walks up to the ticket booth close to the end of your shift. His eyes look a little tired when he holds up a thick card to you, the design of the poster making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Did he do that?

“It’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’, actually,” you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.

“Oh fuck– you know what, not anymore,” he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, “I spent 3 hours on this, I’m not remaking it.”

“It looks like a kindergartener did it,” you note, eyes scanning the bubbly font and the orange-yellow combination used throughout the whole design when he offers the paper back to you. It looks like a Winnie the Pooh convention is taking place instead of an event full of nostalgic movies, and you would tell him that, but he beats you to it with a tired remark.

“Well, if my father wanted this to look professional, he should’ve hired someone to do it,” he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, “I used Canva. I don’t know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what we’re going with, okay?” he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. “Unless you wanna redo it yourself…?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then this is the final poster,” he says, “I’m gonna hang those outside when we close,” he notes, watching you scan the movie titles. The event will take place in 4 weeks from the middle of November to the middle of December (right in time for Christmas movies to air, since you’re certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve). 

“Did any of your movies make it?” Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You can’t remember a single casual conversation with the male– all you two do it either give each other the silent treatment or scream at each other (more like you scream at him, but he always deserves it…), so you’re kind of surprised at the change. Not pleasantly surprised. Just surprised.

Eyes falling to the second movie on the list, you feel yourself nodding as you smile. It’s like a dream come true– you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You don’t know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful. 

“Yeah,” you say, trying to seem unaffected. You’d rather kill yourself than to show any signs of emotion in front of Kim Sunwoo. All he deserves to see is your stone cold face.

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

“National treasure,” you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to you– perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person would– but suddenly, he gasps and takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, offering it to you and playing the role of the manager again.

“Oh, by the way,” he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, “I know we don’t usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldn’t be able to handle the premieres on his own, so… Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.

It takes everything in you to not correct the male and tell him that those are technically not premieres, but when your eyes land on the little Excel table Sunwoo printed out for you, the feeling is overpowered with one of deep disappointment.

“I work the second week?” you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.

“I mean, I think you can read…” Sunwoo hums, shrugging to himself.

A heartbeat passes by of you staring at the schedule, a pit opening in your stomach at the realization. You only work 2 Thursdays out of 4, noticing the fact that you rotate with Sunwoo (with him somehow taking the first week, much to your surprise), but for some reason, one of those days had to be the day when National treasure is on. 

And sure, you might think this is good– you can just watch the movie while you work! 

Wrong.

Working means either staying in the ticket booth the whole time in case a customer comes, working the snack booth the whole time in case a customer comes, or cleaning the bathrooms. Working means also standing in front of the screening room sometimes, making sure no one is going in without a ticket in the middle of the movie. 

There is no time for you to watch National treasure if you’re working. 

Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doing– you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. “Listen… my favorite movie is airing the week I work, so I was… wondering if we could exchange shifts? So I could go and watch it?” you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boy– he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.

“So you want to get out of work only to still come?” Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.

“Well, the schedule is set,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I can’t do anything about it.”

Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwoo’s forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You don’t want to blow up on him when you’re asking him for a favor– you don’t think this approach would help you much in the situation.

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs. 

“Because?” you repeat. “That’s the reason?” you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.

“Sunwoo, you– come on,” you say, “just this once, please? I’ll take the first week. We can just switch, what’s the difference?” 

Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. “Schedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,” he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. It’s the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but won’t laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more. 

“Oh, amazing,” you say, throwing the schedule to the table, “I knew I could always count on you ruining my day, Kim Sunwoo. And I bet you did the schedule as well! You knew it was my favorite movie, so you made me work that week. Very nice of you, you dumbass. Thank you very much,” you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly merciless– you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the schedule– you don’t care, though. All you want at this moment is to claw his eyes out and pop them in between your fingers to ease the anger on your insides.

You can’t do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didn’t even make the schedule, my dad did–”

“As if I would believe that,” you roll your eyes, huffing. “You’re all owner’s son privileges this, owner’s son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You can’t do it,” you bite, words dripping in spite.

“Look, I really can’t-”

“You can’t do this one thing for me?” you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.

“No,” he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

“Because I just can’t,” he shrugs, casual and cool. 

The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clock– it’s 4 minutes after your shift. That’s it.

You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You can’t stand being around this man any longer– all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life. 

Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh “Go fuck yourself!” over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You don’t even change out of your uniform before you go– your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isn’t the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when he’s the owner’s son, but suddenly, you don’t really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)

In your books, there aren’t many things worse than working three days in a row. You can only think of so many even when you try hard enough: like going to school in your pajamas, getting sick on the day of an important event, ripping your pants on the metro, standing outside of the cinema in a popcorn costume for 4 hours… 

Yeah. Not too many.

So naturally, on the third day of your work week, putting one sweetened coffee into your stomach after another, barely keeping your head up from the lack of sleep you’re getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. It’s Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half. 

The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each other’s face for the next four weeks– with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. You’re getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey… Christmas is coming. At least you’ll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. You’re very underpaid.)

Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surface– because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with you– you hope you don’t fall asleep right in this moment. Your boss is somewhere inside and if he oh just happens to check up on you (which he never normally does, but you can never be too sure), you’re certain you’d lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just can’t be accepted. 

Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so much…

Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesn’t go the way you bet on in your head, you figure you can just rest for a second or two… Eyelids shielding your irises from the orange hues of the lights inside, your brain already turning off and preparing a happy dream for you, you think that taking a nap is not such a bad idea right now…

Wrong.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” the noise of a thunder– actually, no, that was just someone’s voice– wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.

“Fuck, man–”

“Didn’t know taking a nap was in the job description,” Sunwoo grins at you through the glass window of the booth. His eyes twinkle in amusement as you drag your hand through your hair, trying to smoothe it down after tousling it in your weird sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you mutter, not even meeting his eye. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah… just had… my eyes closed…” you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re off today.”

Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearance– the fabric of his dark gray hoodie a little stained with raindrops (you bet he ran from his car into the building without an umbrella. He seems like the type to be embarrassed about umbrellas.), the fabric of the garment enveloping his head and shading his face a little from the ugly yellow lights. His face is a little flushed– you presume it’s from the running– and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locks– he really needs a trim.

“Damn, didn’t know you hated me so much that you can’t stand seeing me on my off days,” he jokes, leaning on the counter as if to stick his face as close as he can into yours. Thank god for the glass shielding you two– you think you’d give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.

“I do,” you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, “so tell me what you want so you can disappear again,” you say.

“I just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire you–”

“Kim Sunwoo–”

He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,” he explains, shrugging to himself, “believe it or not, I’m here to buy tickets for a movie.”

You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. It’s cold outside, it’s raining, and Kim Sunwoo just happens to decide to buy tickets for a movie today. In a cinema that he works at. In a cinema that he works at tomorrow.

“You work tomorrow…?” you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.

“You know my schedule? I’m flattered–”

The irritation is slowly creeping into your bones again. Actually, it has been since he arrived, but the more he talks, the more agitating the whole encounter feels. Maybe you should tape his mouth shut the next time you see him– you bet the day would be so much better if you don’t have to listen to him talk. 

“Why don’t you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didn’t have to walk here in the rain,” you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.

“Because I kinda need them today,” he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.

You don’t know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but you’d like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why you’re even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, you’re not really certain, but if it helps you to not smash the glass separating you two, you guess you can get behind the thought process.

“Okay,” you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming you’ve been doing internally, “what movie?” you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If he’s a customer, you’re going to treat him like one– no small talk and no arguments. You won’t ruin your day even more over a man that doesn’t know what chapstick is. (You don’t stare at his lips, just for the record. It’s just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingers– you won’t, though. That would be weird.)

Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. “National Treasure,” he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, “two tickets, please.”

Like a scene in a horror movie, your head turns without moving the rest of your body, eyes twitching when you see him standing at the other side of the booth, calm and collected. Suddenly, the scene makes sense– he bought the tickets to see your favorite movie on the day of your shift. Of course. He just has to rub it in your face. 

Not only are you working that day. You will also most likely serve popcorn to him as he goes inside with whoever he is buying the second ticket for. And you will try not to trip him on his way inside the screening room.

It was a smart move for him to not go inside the ticket booth with you, even though he has all the right to. You bet he knows you’d claw his eyes out if you had the chance.

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What? I can’t buy tickets for a movie?” he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.

Breathing deeply– while trying to contain the demon that’s begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different pieces– you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. “That would be 12 dollars, please,” you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.

Not even letting the male choose his seats– he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movie– you print out two tickets with the worst possible view (the ones in the first row, far right. If Sunwoo loses his neck because he has to look up at the screen for the entirety of the movie, well, who are you to hate that) and offer them to your coworker.

Like a mind game, the male slips them into his pocket without even looking at them, not breaking eye contact with you sitting behind the booth. 

“Have a nice day,” he says as he takes two steps back before fully turning and escaping through the front door, figure dashing towards the old Prius parked in front of the building.

Bawling your hands into fists, you try the breathing exercises you found the other week. Calm your body and your mind, the title said. You knew you’d need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.

Still, you can’t help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it out– it’s not healthy to keep negativity inside. 

He can’t hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful “I hope you choke,” under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998)

Remember the time you said you didn’t really mind having more shifts in November, because it meant a bigger paycheck? Yeah… that was true. For a few days.

Until you got a phone call one day from none other than Kim Sunwoo– whose number you didn’t even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that it’s for work purposes, did so under the name ‘dumpster raccoon’– telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that it’s an emergency. 

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not. 

His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he could’ve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really don’t know what’s so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since it’s the slow day of the week, but still– you angrily took off the facemask from your face before the timer even went off, shut your laptop with a half-watched episode of The office in your Netflix window, changed out of your comfy clothes and marched towards the cinema. 

Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didn’t want to be caught disobeying your boss.

You get to the old movie theater on the corner of the town center at 4 in the afternoon. The sky is already getting dark and you feel the coldness of November seeping into your bones, and so you waste no time in getting inside and chasing the heat of the vintage-looking interior. Your boots make a thudding sound as you walk across the hall, seeing Sunwoo sitting in the ticket booth in his usual habitat: with his phone in his hands and his feet up on the table, chewing on his favorite strawberry mints. Now this sight screams emergency if you’ve ever seen one.

“What was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?” you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak. 

Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesn’t even have his uniform on– there’s a gray hoodie enveloping his torso (you swear he lives in this garment. You wonder if he even washes it sometimes) and black jeans hanging off his hips– and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.

“Oh,” he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, “dad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since it’s Thursday tomorrow, and all.”

The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of information– and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now. 

“I should clean the screening room today? You’re on the clock, though, why don’t you do it?” you ask, frustration clearly written all over your face. You were looking forward to having a self-care day today, so you can only imagine how tired of his endeavors you are right in this moment. 

“Yeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I can’t,” he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.

“It’s Wednesday. It’s not busy. You know you can do both.”

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

“Is it? Is it, Sunwoo?” you huff, arms flying into the air. “Or are you just using me to do the work you don’t feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,” you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation. 

“Do you want me to call him?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening. 

A heartbeat passes. You continue to have a staring contest with him. The fury inside of you rages like a storm. Still, you nod to the feeling of authority coming from your actual boss, and so you wordlessly turn on your heel and march towards the screening room, ready to clean the place in the least amount of time so you can go home and back to your selfcare endeavors. (You’re adding printing out Sunwoo’s face and throwing darts at it to the list of activities. You think you really need that right now.)

The screening room is dark when you come inside, and as you reach towards the lightswitch, you almost fear something jumping at you. See, the traumatic response from being locked up in the toilet from your coworker is still very present in your bones. When you stop working here, you’re going to ask for financial compensation for all the damage this boy did on your mental health.

You walk down the aisle of seats and try to inspect the damage. No movies air on Wednesday and there was only one kids movie going on Tuesday, so you can either expect it to be almost clean, or full of snacks that fell off the hands of grabby children during the cartoon. The more you inspect the place, though, the more it seems like… somebody already cleaned it before?

The floor is clean. The laminated surface under the seats has no smudge of dirt on it, like someone already mopped the place. And when you think back, the bins were empty as well.

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, the lights go out. The whole room falls into darkness, and the anger inside of your veins very quickly mixes with panic as you try to climb up the stairs on the side of the screening room and escape. Your throat gets dry as you yell for your coworker, not really caring if your next outburst is going to get you fired or not.

“Kim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!” you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesn’t matter– it feels cathartic to do so anyway.

Your feet stumble on the awkwardly-long stairs, your figure almost falling to the ground. Managing to hold yourself up and steady your body before your head hits the sharp corner of one of the stairs and makes you die, you continue on with your small tangent. “You really think this is funny? You’re having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!”

A bright light suddenly illuminates the screening room, coming from somewhere behind you. When you look over your shoulder, the screen is white for a few moments before the opening credits of a Jerry Buckheimer film flash on the big surface, halting you in your movements. The sound is a little too loud in the speakers, but it gets adjusted the moment you almost lose your hearing. The moment you see Nicolas Cage appear, it’s clear as day.

There’s a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure. 

You think you’re hallucinating. This is surely a fata morgana.

Standing in the middle of the screening room, your mouth hangs agape and your eyes go wide as you watch the first few scenes of the movie. Ben Gates already learns about the hidden treasure passed down through American history when you feel a slight nudge to your shoulder, making you turn your head to see a tall figure staring you down with a bucket of popcorn in their hands.

You are confused. So utterly confused. The movie was on last week. You’d know– you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and it’s Wednesday– what’s going on? 

“Can you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,” Sunwoo grunts, balancing the big bucket of popcorn and two drinks in his large hands, the sight comical and almost making you want to watch him suffer some more.

Caught off guard, though, you let him back you into the aisle of seats, your figure slouching into one of the red cushions like a rag doll. Sunwoo takes place next to you, placing the big bucket of popcorn into your lap, before he settles into a seat as well and focuses his eyes and attention on the movie.

“What… what is this?” you ask, frozen in the seat. 

“Hm?” Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. “National treasure,” he hums, “I thought you’d know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.”

“I- I know that, I just…” you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, “what’s going on right now…?”

“We’re watching National treasure,” he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.

“What…?”

A sigh escapes Sunwoo’s lips at your utter confusion, his hand coming up to the bucket of popcorn in your lap and throwing a handful of the snack into his mouth before speaking. “Look, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so that’s what you’re doing. Enjoy my owner’s son privileges for once,” he shrugs, watching as your face morphs into an unreadable expression.

That explanation satisfies you for a bit. The shock in your insides, though? Still present.

There’s something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for you– out of the kindness of his own heart– and you really don’t know why he would even think of something like this. You two aren’t on the best terms either, after all. Maybe he finally went crazy.

Or maybe you did and this was all the result of your imagination. Either or. 

Yeah, you must be the one that’s gone batshit insane. Surely. You’re certain of the fact when you reach for the popcorn and accidentally touch his hand, the two of you deciding to get some at the same time, and your stomach does a flip and your brain makes a sign for you to quickly retract your hand– but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and won’t leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.

“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,” you note, “just saying.”

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

“Yeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldn’t go or take your shift that day,” he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.

“If you would’ve just said so, I wouldn’t have made a scene about it–”

“Yeah… but I enjoy watching you make a scene,” he grins, shifting his attention towards you for a second with that lazy smirk playing with his lips. His hair is falling into his eyes and you have the urge to get it out of his face with a motion of your hand while also scolding him like a mother to finally get a haircut, just so you could see the twinkle in his mischievous orbs.

“You need to get serious help, then,” you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. He’s being annoying again. You’re annoyed.

“Probably,” he admits.

You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound accompanying you being the movie playing out on the big screen in front of you. You think this is the calmest you two have ever been around each other, and you’re starting to think that if Sunwoo just didn’t talk, you two could even get along.

Something touches the side of your thigh in the darkness of the room. Eyes darting to the source, you notice Sunwoo’s thigh pressing against yours, the cause of his obnoxious man-spreading, and something about the closeness of his body and the smell of his citrusy cologne makes you feel like your chest is heaving in on itself. You can’t stand him around you. You two can’t share this close of a space.

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you and I both know that the possibility of someone coming to buy a ticket on a Wednesday afternoon is close to zero. Me being there makes no difference in today’s sales.”

His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. “Right…”

“And I wanted to see the movie to see if it’s really that good to make a scene about it,” he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.

You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his guts…

And even though you love the movie, you pray for it to end quickly. The more time you spend with Sunwoo forced into your zone of comfort, the more uncomfortable you feel– even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. It’s strange and it’s weird, and you don’t understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions. 

It’s better that you didn’t notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldn’t handle that well. You’d rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service. As one of the only three employees of the small, vintage cinema on the corner of the town’s square, you can only agree with the sentiment– you have a lot of stories to tell about the wonders of the human brain.

Like that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were ‘too expensive’ – because naturally, you should be able to change the price of them when asked. Or that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were sold out– because naturally, you should add more seats to the screening room just for the two middle-aged women to sit on during the premiere of the newest Orlando Bloom movie. Or when somebody yelled at you for the toilets being full after the movie– naturally, you are supposed to throw people out in the middle of them peeing. Or build new stalls. Either or.

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service, but truly, you also realize just how rude they can also be for no reason at all.

Much like today. It’s Friday, which means it’s premiere night. The tickets to all movies this week are sold out already, so no one is on ticket booth duty, and much to your relief, Mr Kim took the snack stand himself. Your responsibility for the day is scanning the tickets and then making sure no one is getting inside during the movie without a ticket. 

It’s not a hard job. Not at all– you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you don’t have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hell– but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control. 

“Sir, I really can’t let you in, I’m sorry,” you say, tone of voice polite despite screaming on the inside. In front of you is standing a tall man, maybe a few years older than you, the expression on his face full of anger and vexation. They say a customer is always right. You agree only when the customer looks like they could wait for you after work and beat you up in the bushes. Sadly, that still doesn’t mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.

“What do you mean? Little one, I’m telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you don’t let me in–”

“All tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesn’t work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,” you try to explain, getting kind of desperate. The line behind him was forming and the movie was supposed to play in a few minutes, so if you wanted to scan all the tickets in time, you had to be quick.

He wouldn’t budge, though. His eyebrows are furrowed and the guy behind him seems to be getting angry as well, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up alert, like a cat when it senses danger. You try your hardest to keep your tone firm, hands clasped politely behind your back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I don’t have the competence to–”

“Listen, I won’t be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?”

“Sir, I can’t-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. “And if you don’t, you will see the consequences.”

Gulping, you try to think of a way to get out of this situation. Mr Kim is too far away for you to call, and he is also busy– the line is long and Sunwoo isn’t working today. It’s just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You can’t let that man in without a working ticket– it seems like the one he’s showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinema– but it seems like if you don’t, he’ll have you dead before the next morning. 

“So?”

Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you don’t even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. “Is there a problem here?” 

Turning your head to the source of the voice, you’ve never been more relieved to see Kim Sunwoo in your close proximity. You watch as he puts a rolled-up poster to the ground behind you before he takes another step closer towards your figure, his expression stone cold and glaring at the man in front of you. 

“Your coworker here won’t let me in to watch the movie,” he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way. 

Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. “It won’t scan his ticket, so…”

“If it won’t scan your ticket, it means it’s invalid and we’re not allowed to let you in,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“You are ridiculous,” Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “You were asked to leave, so maybe you should.” 

Truth be told, you’ve been in a couple of arguments with Sunwoo before. In none of them has he ever looked and sounded like this, though. You and Sunwoo argue with spite– sparks flying waiting to start a fire, curses and harsh words thrown around carelessly in moments of heated hatred. His tone is stern, but never threatening. Never mean. Not in the way he’s being right now.

It makes you stare at him wordlessly. He seems to be taking the lead in the situation, reacting territorially to the man in front of him. You can’t say you don’t feel safer with him around– you would be lying.

“Maybe you could just let me in and get this over with–” 

“And maybe you could fuck off,” Sunwoo says back, something in his tone making your stomach feel all light. He looks serious, standing his ground, and the man finally seems to get the memo that he’s not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.

“Your boss will hear about this,” he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.

“I’m sure he will.”

Sympathetic looks are thrown your way from the women in the line behind that can finally come up to you so you scan their tickets. You smile at each one and try to seem unaffected by the exchange, but the memory of it still lingers in your brain and doesn’t make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers. 

You didn’t even realize Sunwoo was still standing next to you, watching you work. He seems to recognise your shaken-up composure, tone of voice sympathetic and quiet as he asks: “You okay?”

“What?” you ask, surprised by the question, “oh. Yeah, I’m fine. He was just… being a bitch, the usual.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, “why didn’t you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,” he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Because he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.”

“And I don’t?” he gasps, suddenly offended.

You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. “No,” you shrug, “I could beat you up.”

“Excuse you?” he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement. 

“Don’t believe me? Wanna try?” you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You don’t pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when he’s on your side. Most of the time, he’s not, though– and maybe that’s the problem.

“Okay,” he nods, “meet me in the back when you’re off. No weapons allowed, we’ll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,” he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.

“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Sunwoo smiles at that– that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despise– and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchange– with you scanning the tickets and trying your hardest to make it through the line before the movie starts, when your coworker, dressed in none other than his signature gray hoodie and black jeans, nudges you with his elbow. “Want me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?”

“I can take care of myself, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “you can go about your day.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like it a few minutes ago–”

“I can take care of myself when I’m not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,” you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, “so with him gone now, you can go about your day. What are you even doing here, by the way? I thought you were off today.”

“I am,” he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, “I was just… here to drop off something for you,” he says, clearing his throat and pointing towards the poster he was holding when he first approached you, the shiny tube now resting against the nearest wall. 

You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You don’t get to ask for clarification about the character of the poster, because he abruptly cuts off your train of thought, speaking fast as if to avoid making any more conversation with you. “I’ll see you in the back after you’re done for that fist fight, then. Bye!”

And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You don’t have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after you’re done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek inside– 

only to see a National treasure poster staring back at you, surface glossy and glimmering, as if you just opened a chest full of gold. 

As you take the poster to the staff room with you (while also wearing a huge, embarrassing grin on your face for someone staring at the face of Nicolas Cage), making sure it’s safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you haven’t been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.

It’s good to have a taste of his owner’s son privileges sometimes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays' event is over and while Fridays are always the premiere days, meaning you usually have to work the evenings either in the snack booth or in the ticket booth, your boss told you you can have the night off under one condition– you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, he’s been keen on making you work at random times of the day) and help Sunwoo with Christmas decorations in the cinema.

And, well, who are you to say no to a free evening? Maybe you can finally have that self-care time you’ve been needing before your exam season starts.

“Can you get the ladder from the back?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You don’t know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure it’s either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesn’t really seem like the type to like decorating.

“Why don’t you get it?” you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat that’s cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. “I brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.”

One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after he’s been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you don’t really fight with him as often and he hasn’t pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as it’s been for the past couple of months. There’s not really much you can do about it– especially not when he’s bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.

“I built the christmas tree,” he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. “And I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,” he says, pointing a glare at you. 

Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. There’s some mistletoe hanging off the ceiling (which has you wondering how he even got it there in the first place) and garlands framing all the doorways– the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. It’s fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really can’t be arsed to do any better, so you don’t mention it out loud in favor of avoiding another one of your petty cat fights.

Admitting your defeat, you storm back into the staff room and carry out the tall ladder, struggling to fit through the doorways and to cross the corners, praying to all higher forces that you don’t accidentally scratch off pieces of the wall on your way to Sunwoo.

You put down the metal construction with a loud thud, making the boy look up at you from beneath his bangs, the silent curse evident in his eyes. You don’t know what’s up with him, but again, you won’t ask. You try to tell yourself that you don’t really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain. 

You force yourself not to care.

Watching as he tries to untangle the Christmas lights, struggle evident in the frustration written all over his face, you sigh and walk over to him, taking the bundle of wire out of his hands and threading your skilled fingers through the lengthy cable. You’re an expert in untangling– you don’t own bluetooth headphones, so you do this pretty much every day before listening to some music. Your headphones love to tangle in your pocket no matter how neatly you try to keep them in your pants– it’s a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle. 

“I can do it myself,” Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.

“You seemed like it too,” you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when you’re rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwoo’s eyes– everything is back to normal. You two aren’t friends, you don’t like to be in each other’s presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.

“Hold this,” you say, thrusting the end of the cord into his hand, walking a few meters away from him as you detangle the lights, watching as he impatiently stomps the floor with his heel, reminding you of Snowball from The secret life of pets movie.

When you’re done and the Christmas lights are now a straight line of wire, you slowly walk over to the tall tree in the middle of the room, wrapping the lights around the fake forest-green needles. You’re glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you don’t have to untangle another ones, and when you’re done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs. 

“Okay, now the ornaments,” you say, more to yourself than to anybody in the room, as you waltz over to the boxes and take out the decorations varying in shapes and sizes. You don’t really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go for– and you doubt Sunwoo is aware either, so you just take out the ornaments you find the most pretty and hang them all over the tree, making sure each branch is covered.

Sunwoo stands around for a while, unmoving as he watches you, before he sighs to himself and finally decides to help. You leave him be, thinking that it’s for the best if you two don’t speak today when he’s in such a bad mood, but you break that promise almost immediately when you stare back at the tree after retrieving some more ornaments from the box to your right and notice the almost painful clash of colors.

You should’ve known you can’t trust a man with decorating. The beautiful contrast of the baby pink and brown ornaments you put on the tree is now ruined by the green ones you intentionally left on the bottom of the box. The colors don’t go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.

“Sunwoo, those colors don’t go together at all,” you say, point and blank– no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that tree looks terrifying, and it’s all because you ruined it,” you say.

Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isn’t there fun in making your coworker completely out of his mind? Is this your roles being reversed for the first time? Are you finally winning this little game? 

Nevertheless, you are enjoying the outburst that follows from Sunwoo. Mainly because he looks like a child throwing a tantrum as he huffs and takes off the green ornaments he put on to the tree and throws the handful back into the cardboard box, not really caring if they break or not. You’ll be replaying this scene in your head forever before you go to sleep, for the absolute frustration and annoyance on his face is one of your biggest trophies. Right now, though, you’re battling the urge to laugh.

“Fine, do it yourself, then,” Sunwoo says as he walks away from the tree, choosing to sit on the floor cross-legged, taking out his phone and scrolling through social media.

Again, you don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but you force yourself not to care. You have a job to finish here so you can go home and enjoy your day, and that’s why exactly you just shrug and finish putting on the pretty ornaments, admiring your work every once in a while when you take a break and stare on the tall tree, kind of breathless from the beauty.

You’re not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun. 

The sound of Sunwoo swiping through Instagram reels is the only thing accompanying your actions, and as you look over your shoulder and see his almost sad face, you bite your lip just to not ask him what’s the matter. You’re not supposed to care. And you don’t.

“Can’t you put some festive music on?” you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.

“No,” Sunwoo barks back, not even taking his eyes off the phone as the sound of the reel changes into another one, a swipe of his thumb across the screen showing him another video. 

Nodding to yourself, you carefully try to pick out your next words. Not really sure how to address the male, you choose to approach him with a hint of humor you’re not sure he’ll appreciate. “What’s up with you? You’re bitchier than usual,” you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.

Sunwoo stops for a while– a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trying to see any shift in his composure– before he speaks up again. “Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you say, a tone of voice full of doubt. 

When you conclude that you’re not getting more answers out of him, you nod to yourself and dart back towards the Christmas tree, making sure you make more eye contact with the glossy ornaments than with your coworker sitting behind you on the ground. Not much time passes by before he speaks up again, though, tone of voice quiet and hesitant.

“I’m just not in the mood today,” he sighs, “I have a final next week and it’s stressing me out, I haven’t slept well in quite a few days, my dad’s making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.”

“You hate winter?” you choose to focus on the least serious topic of the little rant, not really knowing when your boundaries lay in discussing the more serious ones.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo chuckles, “it’s like a shittier fall. It’s cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.”

Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. “You’re like a little kid.”

“I remember you calling me a child once,” Sunwoo hums in agreement.

“That was different,” you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.

“I figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,” Sunwoo laughs, the memory of torturing you fond in his brain. The poster he gave you almost made you forget about the fact that he managed to make your life a living hell for quite some time– maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.

The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwoo’s Instagram reels discontinued as you two marvel in the now much more comfortable silence. Testing the waters, you clear your throat before speaking up again. “Don’t worry about that exam, by the way. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,” you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.

“Any advice on the sleepless nights?” he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.

“Less things in your head,” you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. “Or melatonin.”

“Noted,” he nods, sharing a smile with you.

Walking over to the boxes stored a few feet away from the male, you open up the slim one thrown on the side, holding up the star. Your eyes meet his, a carefree twinkle in your orbs when you try to cheer up the boy’s inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. “Do you want to put the star on?”

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,” he shrugs, not really into your idea.

“Oh come on–”

“I don’t feel like standing up,” Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composure– the one that really can’t be arsed with anything. 

Sighing to yourself, you waltz over to the tall ladder, and despite your biggest worries, you continue climbing up the metal construction even when it wobbles and makes you fear you’re gonna fall. The whole thing is kind of unsteady and makes your heart thump in your throat, but you choose to get it over with and finally climb to the very top, outstretching your arm and putting the star on top of the tree, the decoration process now done and freeing you off your today’s work responsibilities.

Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, you’ll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at home– but your leg slips on one of the steps and despite the ladder being now magically steady, your body comes crashing down to the floor.

A yelp fights out of your throat, hands go flying in a desperate need to steady yourself or hold on to something that would make you not fall hard against the marble floor, when a miracle straight down from heaven comes to rescue in a form of flesh holding you up and shielding you from the fall, a grunt landing in your ears when your body settles into soft fabric of dark gray.

Head snapping to the source of the arms around your waist, surprised at the person’s strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they haven’t yet hit the ground), you notice a pair of chocolate orbs staring down at you through a curtain of dark hair, wide eyes scanning your face and breathing out a puff of air.

“Look where you’re stepping next time, for fuck’s sake,” Sunwoo huffs, watching as your brain tries to process the near-death experience.

Registering his arms firmly placed around your waist (now realizing the soft fabric was the hoodie he’s been living in for the past few months), the citrusy scent of his cologne makes your head spin, eyes scanning his face in quick motions, as if not aware of who was your savior. You wonder how he even got to you on time (not really noticing him walking over to the ladder as soon as he saw it wobbling under you, holding it down to keep you from toppling over), and when your eyes curiously gaze at his chapped, yet plush lips, the warmth in your stomach makes you finally snap out of it. 

Untangling yourself out of his limbs, much like you did with the Christmas lights a few minutes ago, you clear your throat and try to get your breathing back to normal. Your knees are a little weak, but you write that off to the shock of falling. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,” you complain, straightening your clothes as you walk over to the empty boxes nearby, stacking them into one another and avoiding all possible eye contact with the male.

It’s working– at least that’s what you keep telling yourself– up until you hear him chuckle and see a pair of hands taking the tower of boxes out of your hold, a charming grin sent your way as he walks away from you to the staff room. “If you say so.”

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

“So… I was thinking,” Sunwoo starts one day, a bundle of rolled-up posters stacked up in his arms like a pyramid, puffs of cold air making clouds appear in front of his face as he speaks, “would you want to go see a movie with me?” he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.

The poster you’re currently putting up into one of the glass holders outside of the cinema almost slips out of your frozen fingers out of shock, your heart skipping a beat. “Huh?” you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. “You want to bring money to your father’s competitor?” you joke.

“What? No,” he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. “I meant, like, here,” he says, nodding towards the building to prove his point, taking a step aside when you close the glass door of the poster holder and move towards the next one, 3 more movie banners left to put up outside of the cinema. 

The wires in your brain work on full force, trying to clear out any confusion caused by his sudden invitation. Sure, you two have gotten closer ever since you talked with him at the Christmas tree a week ago, but still, you didn’t know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours. 

Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. “How would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I don’t and the other way around,” you say, taking the next poster from him and putting it up.

All of the movies airing the next two weeks are Christmas movies. Some of them are old, some of them are premieres, but still– you can’t really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.

“I could get my sister to switch with me on a day you don’t work,” he hums, sheepish about his preposition. There’s something bashful in his tone, something shy in his gaze as he watches you put up the movie poster, but you try your hardest to ignore it for the sake of your sanity. You’re already having a hard time dealing with the fact that he appeared in your dreams twice since he caught you in his arms last week. You don’t need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.

“Isn’t she underage?” you ask, snickering.

“Yeah, and?” he shrugs. “It’s a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.”

A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief. 

“What would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,” you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” he says. 

“Oh, it is,” you mutter, “I don’t like Christmas movies.”

Sunwoo grunts. “Well, I don’t really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,” he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.

“There’s no way any of those movies is your favorite,” you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.

“You wouldn’t know,” he laughs, making your heart do cartwheels at the sound, his teasing making you feel warmth despite the cold breeze trying to make your bones freeze into blocks of ice. 

“I won’t go unless I believe you,” you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwoo’s hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold. 

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

“Oh come on,” he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, “I thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,” he says, tone of voice almost pleading.

Securing the last banner into its designated place, you turn towards Sunwoo with an examining look on your face. He seems to be completely serious, eyes big pools of honey as he watches your face morph as you think. Something in your stomach makes it feel like it’s flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. “Fine,” you gulp, “so what do you wanna watch?”

“The Polar Express,” he says, pointing towards the A3 scale you put up last, showing one of the movies that were older, but Mr Kim decided to air anyway– as if he was aware.

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite. 

“Absolutely not,” you cough, “I hate that movie.”

“Huh? How?” he sighs, face full of disappointment. 

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

Eyes quickly darting towards the poster, pupils shaking as you look towards the airing dates at the very bottom, you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a way out. “You’re working on the 18th.”

“Okay, then we can go on the 19th,” Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You don’t even want to know at this point.

“I go home for Christmas break on the 19th,” you say, shrugging. “See? It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Y/N, come on–”

“Listen, can’t we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?” you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could be– who knows, maybe this was the real reason why you were so irritated with him in the first place.

Slowly walking back towards your workplace, hearing Sunwoo’s sneakers hit the ground behind you as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a sense of momentarily victory flows through your veins when you recognise that you found your way out. There was no way Mr Kim would let his underage daughter work instead of Sunwoo, and you truly were leaving home the evening of 19th. You already had a train ticket– you’re not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.

“I never really hated you, by the way. Besides, you’re only saying that because you hate the movie,” Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of you– making you think he’s being petty and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, surprising you when he opens the door for you and offers you a solemn gaze, waiting for you to walk through the entryway and go back to work. (For you, it’s sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, it’s pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)

Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworker’s eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look. 

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else. 

The words resonate through your brain– ‘I never really hated you, by the way’. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?

You decide you no longer want answers.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)

You can’t believe you’re doing something nice for Kim Sunwoo.

Shoes hitting the gravel, your scarf pulled up so it covers your nose from the ice cold air, a hat hugging your head in warmth and shielding you from the aggressive weather, you start to contemplate your choices and your next moves. A sigh escapes your throat when your eyes land on the marquee above the entrance of the movie theater, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek as you shift your weight from one foot to another.

Pulling out your phone to check the time, a shiny 7:24PM stares back at you, pushing you to walk up to the door of your workplace on your day off, 24 minutes after the beginning of The polar express. 

You feel silly. You feel oh so stupid when you push the door open and your body is immediately engulfed in warmth, the yellow dim lights of the cinema making your eyes slowly adjust to the brightness contrasting the darkness of the outside world. You feel like you must have gone crazy, especially when your insides start to get all light and bubbly, hints of nerves tingling at the tips of your fingertips and the deepest corners of your stomach. There’s no turning back now, you tell yourself– and when your feet automatically take you to the ticket booth, gaze landing on the boy with his bangs in his eyes and an expression worthy of a kicked puppy on his face, you suddenly feel like your trip to the cinema was all worth it.

Clearing your throat, you notify your coworker of your presence, his big, doe eyes staring at you in surprise. Sunwoo’s mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughable– your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)

“What are you doing here?” he asks, the question not as aggressive as it sounded out of your lips every time he paid a visit to the cinema on his days off for all these months.

“Uh… I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,” you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, “can you come help me?” 

Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your question– although there is now a hint of confusion in the mix. What could you possibly have in the back to need his help with? For as far as he knows, you only ever kept your work uniform in your locker. “What? Can’t you get it yourself…?” he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.

“It’s… it’s on the top of the lockers and I can’t reach it, so-”

“Grab a chair…?” 

You didn’t really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothly– but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you should’ve known it was never going to go the way you planned. You’re determined to win, though. 

And so it’s the time to bring out the big guns– men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.

“Please? I don’t feel like bringing a chair and you’re tall enough. It will only take a second…” you pout, watching as the male in front of you sighs and stands up from his seat, nodding at your humble request.

Sunwoo follows you as you walk down the corridor, your heart thumping with the start of your little plan. Your steps are calculated and your movements carefully programmed, the nervousness in your stomach making you even more giddy with every meter of distance you two cross. 

Before you two get a chance to make it to the back, you make a swift turn and open the doors to one of the rooms on the left of the hall, dragging Sunwoo by his hand and tugging him inside. His body stumbles against yours, but the door closes behind him faster than he can react to the impact. Steadying the boy back to his feet, you watch him with anticipation, awaiting his reaction.

The truth is, you haven’t thought the plan out this far. The depiction of it in your brain always ended with you sneaking him into the projecting room and his curious eyes peering into yours. Something about the image of the events always made you feel too overwhelmed– you never dared to imagine the situation further. (That would mean admitting some hidden desires to yourself, so you never even tried. That all makes this situation twice as nerve-wrecking, though.)

“What… are we doing here?” he asks, eyes darting around the darkness of the projection room, the only light illuminating his pretty features being the movie playing behind the glass of the small booth.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?” you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual. 

“I… did…” he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.

“Well, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a way…” you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You can’t really read him– you don’t really know if he’s going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You don’t know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks you’re being embarrassing. You don’t know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you don’t know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panic– and when you panic, you ramble. “I know we are technically not supposed to be here– well, me, at least– but I think that being with the owner’s son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, but–”

Sunwoo’s face starts slowly morphing, the slightest of shifts slowly adding up to a change of expression, having the male break out into the biggest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. “Oh, you’re adorable.”

“What?” you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.

“You did this for me?” he beams, his grin so big and pretty it takes your breath away. Butterfly wings tickle in your stomach at the sight, having you mentally curse yourself– hold it together, Y/N. 

“I- I mean, I didn’t really do anything, we just sneaked in–”

“This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me,” Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, “actually, this might be the first sweet thing you’ve ever done for me–”

“Well, okay,” you roll your eyes, an embarrassed laugh dragging out of your throat as you turn on your heel and walk closer to the little table in the opposite end of the room, needing to avert your gaze from the boy for at least a second. The air is suddenly too heavy and it’s hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

Eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, your brain tries hard to focus on your favorite Christmas movie. Failing, your head running thoughts full of conflicting emotions and erratic exclamation marks screaming the name of the boy behind you, you ask yourself how and when exactly you’ve gotten yourself into this mess.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place.

Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting room– the shuffling of Sunwoo’s feet as he nears your figure, the muffled noise of the movie playing in the screening room in front of you, the resonance of your own heartbeat in your ears as Sunwoo’s hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.

“What–”

“Don’t fight me, Y/N. Just this once,” he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. It’s like he’s walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. He’s in a new territory, in your personal space– the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils again as his head settles itself on your shoulder, the two of you silently watching the movie for a few seconds, not really knowing how to proceed.

There’s something intimate in the way he holds you, in the way the movie is a mere background noise to the marathon of your thoughts, the blue light illuminating your faces as you both try your hardest to keep your cool. 

A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position it’s  in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much you’d love it if you stood here unaffected right now– there’s no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.

“This is nice,” he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you,” he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. It’s not often you get to see this side of Sunwoo– the sweet, patient one, the side of him that makes you feel safe in his arms and appreciated with the soft tone in his words. And while you realize you don’t hate the playful side of him just as much as you thought you did, you must admit the novelty of the situation makes you feel a bit more joyful than you’d like to admit.

The weight of his head disappears from your shoulder, making you feel momentarily disappointed by the action. You expect him to pull away and take a seat on the chair, to finally focus on the movie playing in front of your eyes, the thought alone making your spirit fall. The fire in your inside lights up like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline just as fast again, though, when you feel soft lips come in contact with your cheek.

They stay only for a second before they disappear, an airy laugh landing in your ear a second later. “Please don’t run away now,” he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your court– your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him. 

The choice is yours.

Your head turns his way, eyes instantly locking with his brown orbs searching for any signs of discomfort in your face. Slowly, as if still processing the events of before, your eyes trail over his features– the awfully handsome way his face was sculpted, the softness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the plushness of his lips. They’re not as chapped today, making you wonder if he started wearing vaseline, and before you get a chance to stop yourself, you start wondering of the way his lips would feel on yours, imagination running wild. 

He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into his– as if to ask for approval, see if he’s okay with it. There’s a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips again– a look you take as an invitation as you act against all your best judgment and lean towards him, pressing your mouth against his.

As if testing the waters, you make the kiss short. It was long enough to engrave it into your brain, though– to remember the way his perfectly shaped lips pressed against yours, the way the world stopped just for a moment, the way he tasted of the strawberry mints he always eats at work whenever he has nothing to do. 

Sunwoo seems to find liking in the action– lips glazing yours again, pressing another peck to them before he deepens the kiss, the tingling in your fingertips intensifying and the excitement bubbling in your frame making you turn in your position, front facing him and pressing up against his chest. His hands quickly adjust, slipping under your opened jacket and settling on your clothed waist, the slightest contact making your knees weak and settle your bottom against the table behind you, hands grabbing the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. “I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he huffs.

The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your head– why did he make your life a living hell, then? Why did he pull pranks on you and make you hate every second spent with him? Why did he make you so furious each time and argued with you about the smallest things? How could Sunwoo possibly have wanted this for months, when you just only started noticing his attractiveness a few weeks ago?

“Why–”

“I’ll tell you later,” he says, cutting you off as he presses his lips against yours again, your mouth automatically welcoming his presence. Brain erased of all previous questions, his kisses working like a spell, you focus all your senses on the man in front of you.

Having your hands feeling up his abdomen, Sunwoo hesitantly asks for entrance with his tongue, running it along your lower lip until you welcome him in. You like this type of power battle much more than the one you had going on until now, and with each new movement, you feel yourself falling apart under him. 

His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You don’t need it anymore– with how heated you’ve gotten, you are actually kind of happy that it is gone. One of his cold hands sneaks under the hem of your jumper, fingertips trailing up and down your side, the other one tugs down the hat from your head, discarding it somewhere on the table behind you before it finds its place on the side of your jaw, angling your head in a way that allows him to deepen the kiss even more, the contact of your lips growing firmer as seconds go by. 

Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwoo’s skilled lips blindly trailing down the side of your mouth towards your jaw, feathery kisses ticking you before he gets more bold and sucks on the side of your throat, a shaky breath shyly escaping your lips.

“Sunwoo…” you say, tone of voice not really present, no real intention behind the call of his name.

The boy hums against your neck, having you gasp again when he lightly bites the softness of your skin, your hands shooting up to tangle in his hair when he licks the spot to soothe it after. Threading your fingers through his locks to ground yourself, you can’t believe you ever hoped for him to get a trim.

His hands firmly hold the underside of your thighs before he hoists you up on the table, continuing his confident attack on your neck when you’re sitting comfortably on the hard surface. It’s not like you didn’t feel excited, the tiniest bit thrilled at the mental image of his possessive marks all over your throat, but you were glad it was freezing outside and you could wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises from your family tomorrow. He nuzzles his nose into the hot skin of your neck, the action making you grin in ecstasy and endearment.

Getting lost in the way he was handling you, his touches firm, yet delicate, acted out in a way that makes you feel safe and comfortable with his passionate ministrations, you almost don’t notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.

“Sunwoo!”

The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. “I don’t care what you two have going on over here, but you’re on clock! There’s a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrow’s movie and someone has to sell them right now.”

The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. “Coming,” he says, trying to keep his composure. His hair’s a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffed– the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares now– and before you get a chance to say anything or let your brain process the events of the last few minutes, your panic works faster, making you act.

Quickly scattering for your things, you run out of the projecting room without saying goodbye to either Sunwoo or your boss, never once looking back.

You think of what you’ve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they weren’t in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you don’t find it in you to do so– it’s kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.

Even though you’d hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now. 

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

There are many thoughts swimming around your brain as you walk through the coldness of the town the next day, your duffel bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts – feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworker’s kisses occupying your every sober thought.

It’s not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a call– but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwoo’s never been much of a texter when it came to you. He’s never had the reason to text or call you, unless it was work-related, and you think it will stay that way, even though you did make out with him just last night.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he just didn’t feel like pondering on the events any longer– maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didn’t put much significance to it. You wouldn’t know– it’s not like you’re suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates. 

You, though? How do you feel about the turn of events? Despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, the answer came to you the second you tried to fall asleep last night, every soaring thought in your brain showing you the reflection of his dazed look, desires of wanting him to look at you that way all the time oh so skilfully infesting themselves into every crevice of your neocortex. You want Sunwoo to like you. You want Sunwoo to want you. You want Sunwoo to be so enchanted with your existence that he thinks about you before he goes to sleep at night– just like you have done for the past few weeks. 

The answer comes to you again when you feel something wet fall on the top of your cheek, making you turn your eyes towards the sky. Your breathing comes out in puffs of air as you watch the magic happen right in front of you– and as you watch the snowflakes scatter all around the place, you are in another inner argument. While the rational side of your brain is screaming at you to keep walking to the station so you don’t miss your train home, the delirious side is cooperating with your feet for once, your figure crossing to the other side of the street and walking over to the place you could get to even with your eyes closed at this point; all because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Sunwoo when you were putting on ornaments to the Christmas tree.

It’s the first snow of the season. 

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the town’s square, you feel something akin to childish excitement bubbling in your insides, a hint of nervousness inviting itself into your insides when you push the door open and aim straight towards the ticket booth, where you know Sunwoo will be sitting, wasting another shift away.

He’s there– eyes pressed towards the window, gaze following the snowflakes kissing the cold ground. You expected more excitement in his character, more childlike joy in his figure– and after taking in his composure: shoulders slouching and fingers picking at the skin of his cuticles, you suddenly feel silly for coming.

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

“Sunwoo,” you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.

You don’t receive a verbal response for a while. The boy just stares at you, a bit hesitant and clueless. His face reminds you of a small puppy trying to take in the new situation in front of it. His lips are formed into a small pout, gears in his brain turning and trying to process the reality of having you standing there, face beaten from the cold.

Clearing your throat, you try to take charge of the situation. “It’s snowing outside,” you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, “and, well… you said you like the snow, so…”

The boy’s mouth hangs agape, a twinkle in his eyes slowly appearing once again when he stares at you, your nervousness doing wonders to your conversation skills. “I- I don’t even know what I wanted to say with that, it’s just- I don’t know… I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-” you stutter, the sentence cutting off as Sunwoo jumps to his feet and grins, wordlessly taking your hand into his and dragging you outside.

The duffel bag falls off your shoulder somewhere in the middle of the hall, discarded to the floor, before Sunwoo sharply halts in his steps and runs back towards the ticket booth, still dragging you with him by the hand. The boy grabs something off the table, the item not visible in your rear point of view, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you’re outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.

It’s dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where you’re going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwoo’s warm hand in yours when he suddenly lets go, you turn your head to look at the male.

Terror fills your veins when you notice him gathering snow from the ground and pressing it into a tight ball, a screech escaping your throat when you watch him swing it at you, a playful, boyish grin playing with his features. The male chases you around and most of the snowballs don't even hit your running figure (he does have an awful aim), but you still duck anyway and try your hardest to win your snowball fight.

Numb fingers creating snowballs and halting them at his tall frame, but missing most of the time due to his fast reflexes, you laugh and let go of all the worries and questions clouding your judgment. Sunwoo looks enthusiastic, so much more lively than when you found him in the ticket booth just a few minutes ago– but that’s still not enough for you to let him win.

Gathering the icy texture into your hands, you run towards him, taking advantage of his inattention as he’s bent over and taking more snow into his hold, and halt the whiteness into his face just as he straightens his back and wants to prepare for his attack.

More laughter bubbles out of your chest when you watch him drop his snowball to the ground, admitting defeat. The snow is all over his face– slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face. 

The male shudders from the cold, and you instantly start feeling bad. Only now you realize that he ran out without a coat, a gasp escaping your throat. “Oh god,” you mourn, hands flying towards his frozen face to wipe off the snow from his cheeks, fingers carefully tracing over his cold skin. His eyes open as he watches you, something in his gaze so tender you feel yourself melting even in the middle of the snowstorm.

The male shuffles his hands into the front pocket of his gray hoodie, taking out the item you now recognise to be the hat you accidentally forgot in the projecting room yesterday (and already mentally paid goodbye to), his frozen fingers tugging the fabric onto your head. 

“Why are you putting this on me? You’re the one that’s freezing over here!” you scold him, shaking your head at the male. 

He rewards you with an amused grin, watching your next moves. Acting on auto-pilot, not really putting much thought into your actions, you unzip your jacket and step impossibly near to the male. Holding the jacket open, you hug him around his middle, making sure you are sharing the warmth with him and keeping him as close as possible, shielding him from the cold with both the fabric of your puffer jacket and the heat radiating off your body.

Faces just inches away from each other, you peer at his face. He wears a warm expression, eyes peeking out from behind his dark bangs. Clouds of breath escape his mouth when he speaks, voice quiet, as if to not ruin the atmosphere. “I thought you would regret it,” he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

“Why?” he asks, suddenly doubtful. “You said you hated me. Which was odd to hear, honestly, since I did all this to get your attention anyway and I thought it was just how our dynamic works, but… I could see how it could be annoying to you…”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. It’s sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. “I don’t hate you. At least not anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, “I actually quite like you, I think…” you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.

“You do?” he asks, the twinkle in his eye glimmering twice as much as ever before, tone of voice playful, yet laced with honest joy and surprise at your confession.

“I do,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper as you watch him lean closer towards your face, cold nose bumping into yours before he angles his head, breath mixing in with yours in the few seconds before he dares to kiss you again, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is sweet. The kiss tastes of strawberry mints and the first snow, of unsaid confessions and longing looks sent your way every time you weren’t looking. The kiss makes your stomach fill with a thousand little butterflies, it melts away the ice around you, the two of you like a spark of a fire in the middle of a snowy land. 

His actions have your composure faltering, hands untangling from behind him and moving up to cradle his face. He melts under your touch, leaning into you as your fingers trail over his cheekbones. Holding on to him, thumbs padding his soft skin, you’re reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.

“Let’s get you inside,” you say, planting a short peck to his lips, “before you turn into an icicle,” you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.

“I won’t,” he shakes his head, “love warms me up,” he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. “I’ll think about it on my train home,” you bite back, opening the door to the theater and aiming towards the duffel bag you dropped on your way out.

Sunwoo watches you with a warm gaze, an adorable smile playing with his lips. His figure seems to be visibly taking in the heat again, his face adorning a flush, pink color. 

“So I take it as you’re not quitting anymore, then?” he teases as you walk back to the door, both of you ignoring the customers waiting for their tickets in the line in front of the forgotten booth.

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

“I’ll text you the schedule for January?”

“You better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,” you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, “or you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!”

The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. “Noted.”

Slipping outside, you watch as he waves at you goodbye, your feet dragging through the snow towards the train station having more pep to their step now. You don’t even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regrets– you can always catch the next one, right?

Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh. 

The male that once made your life a living hell is now the one you look forward to seeing the most once you come back after Christmas break. It’s kind of strange, really. 

One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.

[markiemelon]

ordinary

fluff ─ ੈ♡˳ no warnings! ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

idol!jaehyun x gn!reader

this one’s for all my delulus out there!

{6:33pm} ♡‧₊˚ ↴

it wasn’t his job that made him ordinary, it wasn’t his talent, and it certainly wasn’t his looks.. but it was the little things he did, like wanting to go to the convenience store with you at 2am even after a long day of photoshoots and promotions.

it’s starting to get colder, and leaves are turning brown again. just like it was when you met him. this time of year makes you remember the first time you crossed paths.

you were working at a cafe, your first day, first job. he, of all people, walked in. you felt your heart stop and start again. of course you knew who he was, but you didn’t dare say anything. you kindly welcomed him, holding back the urge to ask for a picture or an autograph.. you were too shy to do anything like that.

you’ll never forget his order. it still hasn’t changed. you called it out. “extra hot caramel macchiato, two pumps hazelnut, extra whipped cream.”

he was off to the side of the counter, jotting something down on piece of paper. his head perked up at your call, and he smiled.

he payed in cash, and managed to slip something in with it. a little folded up sticky note wedged in between the bills. you wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t slipped out and fallen onto the floor. “oh, did something fall out of—”

“don’t worry. that’s for you.” he interjected, taking the change you held out for him in your hand. “well thanks. have a nice day.” he nodded on his way out.

after watching him exit in awe, you picked up the note. a string of digits was written across it in really poor handwriting. it read ‘text me?’ but it actually looked more like ‘taxi man’

but you couldn’t focus for the rest of the day. seeing him in person was enough to shake you up, but for him to hit on you? you got a least 4 orders wrong after that.

when you finally got home, you were hesitant to type the number into your phone. did he really mean to give it to you? that’s dangerous… for all he knows, you could be a sasaeng.

you ignored any doubts and just did it anyway. you had no idea what to say. not wanting to freak him out or act like a crazy fan, you went with something simple.

hi are you the guy from earlier? caramel macchiato?

shortly after you sent it, you got a response.

yeah that’s me

you stared at your screen expressionless, trying to process what was going on. and then another text came through.

sorry that note was so sloppy. actually i was worried you wouldn’t be able to read it

im jaehyun by the way. could i get your name?

all you could do was laugh. it was unbelievable.

surprisingly, you slept pretty well that night. but you woke up a little disappointed, thinking you’d just woken from the best dream ever. you picked up your phone to check the time only to see a message from a number that had yet to be saved as a contact.

you working today?

you took a second to notice the messages above it, where you exchanged names. your heart fluttered, but then it dropped. it was already noon and jaehyun’s text is what reminded you that you had a shift at 1:15. your thumbs slammed against your keyboard to respond.

yes i totally forgot

you pulled yourself together in like 10 minutes. hair kinda messy, eye bags on fleek, you head out. you were in such a hurry, it didnt occur to you to check if he responded.

nice. i’ll see you there

but you left him on delivered.

you made it just on time. you reached for the door handle but someone else beat you to it. a familiar voice spoke. “here, i can get that.”

you weren’t expecting to see jaehyun right beside you, and you obviously weren’t used to seeing his face up close and personal. “oh it’s you-” your hands instinctively covered your mouth in surprise. “what are you doing here?” you avoided looking directly at him as you made your way inside.

he followed behind you. “i have a day off.. and i was craving coffee.” you rubbed your cold hands together. “is that so?” heading to the back to put your things down, you tried hard not to show how nervous you were.

you came back out with an apron, and you made sure to fix your hair up a bit. jaehyun was standing on the other side of the counter like he was ready to place an order, so you had to think of him as any regular customer. “what can i get for you today, sir?”

“can i get a… date with you?”

at that point, it had started to sink in. that you actually had a shot with this guy.

“sir, that’s.. not on the menu.” you teased with a sudden confidence, looking him in the eye.

yes, this was jeong jaehyun. but at the end of the day, he was still a man. and like any man, you wouldn’t let him pull you so easily.

“it’s not?” he answered, his gaze lingering on you so naturally. “hmm…” with a quick scan of the menu, he continued. “a caramel macchiato is fine, then.”

one thing led to another, and the untouchable superstar jaehyun you couldn’t believe was real, was now the annoying jaehyun who refused to leave your home.

the unreachable jaehyun who travels the world, performing at sold out stadiums, is still the jaehyun who sleeps through his alarms, and sings in the shower…

now you know he’s not unreachable or untouchable, but it was still hard for you to understand how such a special person… could really be so ordinary.

thank you for reading 🌱 reqs always open

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"forgive me one last time" ft. the monster trio!

headcanons of highschool!au monster trio as your boyfriend begging for forgiveness after fucking shit up

luffy:

- "yn" he mumbles, trailing after you in the hallways "stop trailing me" you hiss as you open the locker, shoving the books inside and taking out another "yn" his hands are wrapping around your waist, his neck finding home in the crook of your neck and he's whining again, "please forgive me, pretty please?" - it wasn't even like you got mad often tbh; dating luffy meant he is gonna do stupid shit and you're gonna have to deal with it but there was a limit to stupid shit too - you shove his head away from your neck, "romilda fuckin' asked you, "wanna go watch a movie??" and you said yes. how can you say yes to a date while you have a girlfriend?! do i mean nothing?!" "i didn't know it was a date!!" his hands are wrapping around you tighter, "i thought she was lonely and wanted to hangout with a friend!! you know i wouldn't have said yes otherwise ynnn~" "are you an id-" you huff, "i'm getting late for class, get off" you forgave his dumbassery on the regular but come on, now its insane - yeah you didn't forgive him - not until you came back to keep your books and take new ones for the next period and saw giant "i miss you" and "sorry" glittery stickers plastered onto your locker (did he steal those from a 3rd grader? youre not sure) - you huffed, opening the locker - your jaw went slack - the entire locker was full of your favourites. your favourite candy, the cookies sanji always makes during christmas (how did he get those rn??), your favourite soda and flowers - how did he manage all that in the time span of one period??? - at the side is a note in a scrawly handwriting, "you wanna go watch a movie with me? (asking you for a date, not as a friend who wants to hangout) boyfriend :)" - you ended up forgiving him only after he bought he a bucket of popcorn and kissed you during the end credits of the movie - he also had to buy you dinner from the baratie like a gentleman.

zoro:

- "zo," you huff, "it's like the thousandth time, ofcourse im gonna be fucking mad at you!" "i know" he groans, "i really know, but i'm sorry, please" "no. you can't keep saying you'd show up for my events and then fuckin' disappear like always!" - you're fighting in hushed whispers in the hallway, you didn't wanna cause a scene because you know how bad zoro finds public attention - you know he's busy training, busy with his friends and you know he loves you but a part of you wonders if he simply doesn't actually love you - he constantly fails to show up at your events, he has never outright called you his girlfriend in front of people who weren't his close friends and he has never even held your hand in public because he says pda makes him uncomfortable - you got him but it simply sounds like he's afraid to admit you both are together - "are you not happy with me?" your voice is breaking, crumbling into silent heaves, "do not lo-" "what?" his hands find yours, "no, ofcourse not. baby, i just had another practice and dad (mihawk) called me back home. im sorry, i couldn't say no to him" "i know b-" - he kisses you - in the middle of the fucking hallway, with other people around - he does it. that bastard. - his hands are tucking your hair behind your ear, resting softly on your cheek as he tip you backwards and kisses you till you cannot possibly breath "i love you" he says loud enough so that anybody within earshot could hear, flashing you a small smile his voice comes down to a whisper, "i'm sorry i suck at being a good boyfriend, i will get better okay?" - he follows through on that promise because the next time, he is standing at your event with a tshirt just reading "yn is the coolest" and a small, stupid smile on his face "was the tshirt necessary?" "yes" - ugh i love soft zoro

sanji:

- sanji had a (bad) habit of always backing you up - one might wonder what's bad about that but when he almost beat the shit out of a random guy for saying he didn't like your vibes - "sanji!" you pull him away, eyes widening, "stop it" "but yn" "you cannot keep doing this! you cannot keep fucking putting up a fight against anybody who doesn't like me-" "yes i can" "sanji." - it ended up leading to a fight and you stormed off into the class - you expected sanji to come apologize the very next period or atleast text you or something - but nothing. you didn't see him for the rest of the day. - not until it was 9 pm and all of a sudden, a cheesy pop song was playing outside your window and in your front lawn stood a drenched, blonde guy holding up a boombox and a giant wet, white sheet reading "FORGIVE ME YN IM SORRY PLEASE I LOVE YOU" - first of all why was he drenched? it wasn't even fucking raining - that brings your attention to his two best friends, luffy and zoro holding a hose at him from a distance (luffy is giggling, he's having the time of his life, zoro looks like he hates being alive) - "sanji why are STANDING IN FRONT OF WATER?!" "SO THAT YOU FORGIVE ME, MY LOVE IM SORRY" "YOU'D CATCH A COLD, COME INSIDE IDIOT!!" - well, he did bring a box full of home-made chocolate though, so you cannot be mad at him for long - did this event stop him from being a bit over-bearing? no, not really but eh, that's sanji for ya

a/n: cutesy little headcanon lol thankyou so much @scentisterror for helping me with this <3<3

[savannahsdeath]

TEACHER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X STUDENT!READER

PART 1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

summary: you stay with your teacher - ellie because youre sure she didnt grade your exam correctly. she turns out to be easy to spend time with, even though youre her student

warnings: 18+ please!!

writers note: calling ellie 'miss williams' kinda cringes me but ig thats how it is.. before yall attack me or smthn reader is not a minor so its all legal also i imagine this is like the last grade of highschool?? i dont know what age it is in usa since im polish and yeah it would be legal for us but maybe not in america so idk😭😭

Ellie Williams was a teacher in your college, most students' favourite. She wasn't boring or too strict although she was serious about her lessons and she always made sure everyone listens. The point is, everyone wanted to listen.

You loved how passionate she is about her job. You could tell sharing her knowledge with next generations makes her proud. The rest of the students mostly liked her for her looks. She was attractive, even for you, especially when she was looking at you from under her glasses. Oh, god, her glasses... And the way she adjusts them with her slim fingers... Yes, she was definitely attractive. And pretty young, as for a teacher. But the way all of those stupid frat boys made clearly sexual comments about her was making you want to throw up.

You never missed her lessons and you were her best student. You could tell she appreciates the way you look honestly interested in her lessons. That's why you were surprised when you suddenly got a D from an assignment.

You stayed after class to talk with her about it. Something was off. You stayed the whole night to do it, with blood, sweat and tears.

You found her in her office, reading some papers. After saying simple 'good afternoon' you sat in a chair in front of her desk. She dropped the papers that turned out to be your assignment.

"I was just about to talk to you." She sternly said, not looking in your direction. "Why are you helping him?"

You had no idea what she's talking about, so you stayed quiet, letting her talk.

"You've always been so responsible - straight A's, making the presentations in time. Did he pay you? Be honest, I won't report it anywhere. Luke wouldn't do that himself."

You frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. What does Luke has to do with this?"

Luke was your talking stage. You weren't interested in him but he was in you and that's it. Your opinion didn't matter. He was popular and you wanted to have good reputation so you allowed him to do... whatever.

Miss Williams showed you two papers. One was yours, the other... based on the handwriting - Luke's.

"Look at the signatures." She ordered. "How did it happen? No bullshit."

They were swapped. Luke's work, graded for a D, had your name on it.

"That's an interesting word to use for a teacher. Umm... Yeah, I don't..." You started stuttering, not knowing what to say. You often helped him out but not this time.

"Just admit you helped him and I'll give you your A. Easy as that." She finally looked up at you. Her glasses reflected the light in a way that made it hard to look her in the eyes, so you wasn't able to tell what she's thinking. Was she judging you or are you just paranoid?

"I told him to give you my assignment since he was staying in your class longer, I swear, I didn't-" You sighed. "He had to... How could he..." You continued mumbling.

"Sh, shh... I can tell it's your handwriting. I just thought you did it on purpose." She said in a reassuring voice.

"Will he have any problems? It's not a big deal, so if we could just..." You looked at her with your doe eyes, nervously biting your bottom lip. The way she was looking at you made you understand why were the other students all over her. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your mind, embarrased you even thought about her in a... romantic... way.

"Okay, my dear. Here's your well earned A." She showed you a new copy of the assignment with an A grade written at the top. You also notice her fingers slightly grazing your hand as she does so. the same fingers you used to imagine touching you in such an intimate way "Now, if it's not a big secret, why are you even worried about Luke? For him, a better grade is more important than you. But if you really like him, I may group you both together in the next presentation."

"No, I don't, it's not that..." You quickly explained. "It's just... I don't even know. He's just everywhere I go."

You could tell something was off when Miss Williams mentioned Luke. She never did speak poorly about any of your classmates, not even once - it's simply unprofessional. But, this time, she seemed irritated, perhaps even annoyed.

"I'm glad to hear that, he's no good for you. He obviously wants more than an assignment swap." She put all of the papers back into her file. Suddenly, she leaned in towards you. Not too close, but way closer than she was before. "You look nervous."

"I am." You admitted quietly. Your heart starts beating fast. She's never been this close before. You both met after classes before and she was friendly, sure, but never this... interested. She made it to the point you didn't saw her as a professor anymore, just a woman, maybe even potential... girlfriend.

"I can help you with that stress if you'd like." She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't resist her. She leans in closer, until your faces are so close together that your breaths become one and if it wasn't for the desk, your bodies would be pressed together. The moment she touches your cheek, you can't resist anymore and kiss her back. She takes your hands and presses them against the back of her head, pulling you closer as she deepen the kiss.

You never felt this way before. This doesn't feel wrong, it's... exciting. She's exciting.

You hear a faint sound from outside. Someone trying to open the door.

Miss Williams quickly straightens up: she straightens her clothes, fixes her hair, and picks up her papers. Then, with a deep breath, she answers the knock.

"Hello... Can I help you?" She opens the door.

It's Luke, standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"Luke? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flicked from Luke to the teacher and back again, not understanding what's happening.

"I just realized I forgot my bag at class today, so I dropped by to pick it up. But I see you have company." He looks at you and gives you a subtle wink.

"Oh, don't worry. I was just giving her assignment back an A. The A she deserves." She says with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, exactly, Luke. I know you swapped our assignments." Your eyes lingered at him for longer this time, as you saw he knows something so you tried changing the topic to more formal one.

"I... uhh... no, I didn't do that." He replies nervously, his tone and body language giving him away.

Miss Williams looks at you with an expression that conveys "I can't believe this is happening."

You continue; "Look, Miss Williams found our assignments mixed up. Mine... with your D grade on it... and yours, with my A on it."

Luke shifts uncomfortably, realizing he's been found out. "Oh... well... I guess I'll just be on my way then." He says awkwardly.

"Just take your bag and go before I change my mind and not be so nice." Your teacher said, making eye contact with you instead of him.

Luke quickly grabs his bag and scurries away.

Miss Williams sighs and closes the door. "What a little... trouble maker." She says with a smile. She walks towards you and stands in front of you, facing you directly. "I hope he didn't bother you too much." She says softly, her tone carrying a slight flirty vibe.

You smile and shake your head, even though the truth is he did.

"You should go now, I don't want your parents worrying. Visit me here from time to time though, 'kay?" She smirks, stroking your hair.

"Yes, ma'am." You reply, trying to be playful but failing in your nervousness. "I will... umm... see you at class tomorrow."

"I'll be looking forward to it." She replies, a grin on her face as she stares deep into your eyes.

As you leave, you try to remain composed, but you're melting inside.

[inumakis-boo]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ur text (inumaki toge) ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

synopsis ␥ you give toge inumaki your phone number, and you become addicted to your phone, and him (for all good reasons). major fluff + friends ↝ lovers.

version one out of three. Enjoy!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

When you first started texting toge inumaki, if you were totally honest, you werent entirely sure how it was going to go.

You had only caught the subtle hints of his personality during the rare times you saw him in person- and obviously, it was through tone and face expression, becaude most other ways well were.. not optional.

So.. when you finally got the courage to write down your number on a slip of a yellow post-it note, you didn't know exactly what to expect. Just because you thought he might be a cool guy, doesn't mean he might feel the same about you. He may be cool only around people he is used to training with, or is in the same field-level at him.

But his eyes grazed over the neat handwriting (you mustve written the same note about six different times before handing it over), and his looked back at you with smiling eyes, and a thumbs up.

you tried not to wait up all night for the text- why were you so nervous? it was just a phone number, you had given it to everyone basically on campus. he was just the last one.. because you were too nervous to actually give it over.

the phone had dinged you awake from an after school nap, and you groggily picked it up, expecting nothing more than the student group-chat aruging again, but found an unsaved number with nothing more than-

UNSAVED NUMBER: it's inumaki, you gave me ur phone number the other day

UNSAVED NUMBER: idk if you remember haha srry if this is bothering u but i didnt see u at dinner, did u eat?

you try your best to blink out of the sleepiness from your eyes, trying to gauge what you wanted to say.

YOU: hi, and no i didnt forget 🤙🏻

YOU: no i was sleeping, i mustve missed it oops

He had read it almost immediately, which was.. honestly refreshing.

UNSAVED NUMBER: we thought so, so i hope you enjoy whats outside ur door

What? Outside the door? You climbed out of bed, and slowly creeped the door open-

Nobody was out here? Was someone supposed to be coming?

You look down the hall both ways before looking down. A small bag, tied closed, sitting perfectly infront of your door. When you pick it up, the bag is still warm, so it must not have been there for too long.

When you return to your phone, you see even more messages.

UNSAVED NUMBER: everyone thought it was a good idea so you dont miss dinner cause we be doing too much shit to miss out on food

He was right about that one; the days of training and missions had not gotten any easier, and energy was too important to start losing.

YOU: thank you, but how did you know where my room was?

UNSAVED NUMBER: tis a secret

UNSAVED NUMBER: wait that sounds horrible i promise im not a stalker

UNSAVED NUMBER: i just asked someone if they knew

YOU: that kinda sounds like what a stalker would say T-T

UNSAVED NUMBER: NOOOO IM SORRY forget what i said, eat well pls, gn!!

Ah, so under his collar, he was just.. a normal guy.

A funny one at that, with a personality? Nearly shocking for boys your age. The food was good too, with the

When you tell Itadori about last nights dinner, he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Huh, he made you that?" He asks, lips pursed a little. "Thats cool."

"What did everyone else have?" You ask him, as you two both put on your shoes from the school lockers.

"Inumaki made a different dish, a soup."

You had nothing like that- you got salmon and onigiri.

"Huh, thats not surprising." He says after you tell him, "Thats his favorite."

He.. had made you his favorite? and like.. actually made it for you, not just bought whatever from a store. He made something completely different- lighter accounting it being almost bedtime?

So.. he was considerate too.

—

After that, it didn't take long for the messages began to roll back and forth.

What turned from appreciation for his cooking, turned into meme sharing and tiktok sending, then.. into photos, of homework, of a cat brushing up against his leg on the street, a aisle of snacks, asking for what you want. In return, he got imessage games, where he would never lose, opinions on video games and shows, and hypothetical questions about his curse.

YOU: so lets say ur playing a video game

INUDUMBASS: which one

YOU: literally not important, anything competitive

YOU: anyways, ur playing right in a voice chat

INUDUMBASS: yes go on 🙄

YOU: and you start losing, can you say anything

INUDUMBASS: i try not to actively kill people on the mic so no

INUDUMBASS: it will still go through 100%

YOU: nobody said u had to tell someone to do that 😭

INUDUMBASS: clearly you have not been around anybody who is losing in a game before

YOU: god are u rlly that cringy??

INUDUMBASS: are you just finding this out??

INUDUMBASS: and no, i wouldn't ever do that kind of thing, i do have self-control, yknow

YOU: mhm totally

And maybe he did for online players, but he would not hesistate to make the phone drop out of your hands in the lunch room as you two played 8-ball from opposite sides of the table, just to fuck up your aim as you made a winning shot, turning the game over to his benefit.

It's okay, because you got your revenge pulling out the chair from underneath him, and watching him smack his ass on the hard school-floor, and resist not cursing in pain. He would still smile at you- eventually afterwards. He would roll his eyes, but accept the fair play anyways.

It was painfully obvious to everyone else that you two had something going on.

And maybe you didn't realize how much you were admiring him until the personality in his messages shone in him in reality.

Of course, communication was inconvenient but Inumaki wasn't dumb. One eye look told you everything you needed to know. He would snicker at Itadori's occasional mishap while training, then immediately lock in for his own, all the while never sending a mishaped word out of his mouth. And never using more of his curse than needed. Everyone knew he was trustworthy.

Nearly once a day, if he could, he made food (you thought about the first time he made it for you, specially for you, and it makes all his food taste even sweeter) and you watched everyone enjoy it, then noticed as he helped clean up- even though Maki and Megumi urged him to sit. Self-less, kind.

It was really the time on a friday night, after such a long week that everyone decided to ditch the movie theater to instead use the lounges tv (thanks to gojo, was totally decked out for the students), that maybe you start to notice Inumaki- really notice him.

You had been sitting on the food at one end of the long couches, as Toge sat at the other end, his legs draped over the arm rest as he rested his right side against the backrest.

You honestly don't know why you even kept on looking- it wasn't even that serious of a movie, yet he was so intently watching, sweatshirt not big enough to cover the usual half of his face, revealing the thin inky marks on his cheeks, leading to his lips.

He was biting the inside of his lower lip as he watched, probably an old habit back from when he was a kid- he had always been like this, he mentioned once. His arms were lazily crosed, and even his hair had been pushed so strands flicked upwards in tusseled ccondition. His greyish-violet eyes were reflecting all the action scenes, so relaxed but also, analyzing.

For the briefiest moment, you wished it was you that was sitting next to him, not Maki.

Or, the rest of the night, as you tried to focus on the movies, with your arms wrapped around your knees.

It was so odd to think weeks had passed, and suddenly, a boy that you had never known before and were scared to know, had become such a phenomenon in your life. A sustainable source of kindness and excitement that came from a boy that didn't even speak full sentences.

He made your heart flutter. As embarssing as it is. Would probably say it was embarssing, if he knew. Not like it was really ever that serious, right?

You two were friends, maybe an odd pair, but at the very least, very good classmates, and at the best, two people that loved to bully each other and talk even when words were a non-possibility.

—

TOGE: hey btw, you looked great tn.

YOU: lmao i looked like a bum

TOGE: well even if you did, it looked cute

TOGE: anyways, ima going tobed, im sleepy,, night night

was this really all in your head?

YOU: night night, toge :)

TOGE: :)))

It had to be.

The next morning was going to prove difficult for that insanity plea;

TOGE: i have nothing planned for today

YOU: you should be studying 😭

TOGE: nah, i should be hanging out with you

YOU: this is hanging out with me

TOGE: no like, hang out hang out

YOU: where? its too hot outside today

TOGE: in my dorm then?

YOU: with who?

TOGE: with you??

TOGE: At six, you should come hang with me, itll be fun

You swallow as you look down at your phone screen, and take your bottom lip between your teeth. That same feeling was coming back, but not out of any of the reasons before. This felt different. An excited giddiness with freckles of nervousness.

YOU: as long as you got the snacks, i wont miss it

TOGE: ill buy the whole store for you

Ahaha.. so funny right?

Somehow, it was starting to feel like the real joke was how well you were fooling yourself into thinking this was just friendly banter.

You found yourself showering and picking out a comfy outfit, braiding your hair and carefully selecting a perfume. You nearly caught yourself trying to replay the memory of getting dressed the night of the movie-party.

"hey btw, you looked great-"

You wish he could tell you to just stop thinking, would be doing you a huge solid. Especially as you approach his room, which you had found yourself wondering what was on the other side, when the boy stepped out from the door frame.

"Konbu." He waved, with a warm smile. His hair was pushed back from his face a little, and he had a white sleepshirt on, with some baggy grey sweatpants.

"Hi, Toge." You had never really called him by his first name before, and if he thought negatively, the small smile reaching his eyes disobeyed the thought.

He stepped aside and let you take your first look into the room- maybe you had not thought about it so hard, but it somehow made sense.

Band posters on some of the walls, poor taken photos of the second years and first years all together taped there too, an occasional plant dangling off a book shelf or window sill, a dresser, a little worn with character, sits nearby with a tv angled on its edge, towards the bed for easy viewing. A PS4 sits behind it, along with a headset, with the mic turned away from the front.

He has books sitting on his desk, an old fashioned hand-carry radio sits on one of its edges, and it makes for also a side table to his bed, sitting on a metal bedframe with blankets and infamous navy bedsheets.

Its springing with his character, and the smell of a refreshing cologne is in the air- the same type she would catch sometimes lingering as he walked by.

"Its not what I expected."

He walked by her to sit at his spinning desk chair, turning to face her. "Salmon?" He inquires.

"Well yeah, its just your style. With the uniform and your curse, it might not be so obvious to other people who don't know you."

He leaned back in the chair and looked up interestedly at the ceiling. Was that rude to say?

He takes out his phone, and a quick second later, presents the phone screen to you, opened to the notes app.

/i never thought abt it like that/

/well, i mean, i have but im glad you understand it, kinda impressive that you figured it out/

/or im just easily readable/

"That would be a good thing, right?" You leave the phone screen on, but puts it away from your view. "That your friends get to read you, despite everything. That means youve gotten good at what you do.."

Toge's lips quirk to one side as he thinks, and your eyes watch as his marks follow the corners.

He raises his hand to get a wishy-washy motion, and you furrow your brows. When he types, he stops you from picking up your phone aswell, only to present what hes wrote in the text box.

/Well, kinda. no matter what I do to express myself, its kinda hard to be fully understood. i miss out on a huge part of everyday life, even if people understand what idea im trying to get across, its atypical./

/no amount of tone or facial expression can amount to words and their complex meanings. i think i am actually really lucky that my curse does not extend to messages- i think id be screwed./

"I don't think its too different to what people really feel like though." You explain to listening ears. "Most people felt like they aren't totally understood, that people just don't get them totally.. but I understand that, you don't have much of a choice, and we take advantage of what we can do sometimes."

You watch his face change a little to settle on your features more- and you feel yourself being pulled into his attention.

"I think even if your curse had taken away your ability to communicate in ways you do now, youre still worth knowing, Toge. I think everyone agrees."

His eyes soften, and it nearly strikes your heart into a million pieces. His smile too, could he be anymore cute? He wasn't hiding it this time. He shows how much he appreciates your words in the flush of his cheeks and the way his palms meet together.

He lets out a relaxing sigh, and looks away, then his eyes light up to bags sitting by the bedside.

"Sujiko." He urges to look, pointing to the grocery bag, which seems to be loaded with stuff. You walk closer and grab it, then find yourself sitting down quietly on the side of his bed.

The bag is full of snacks and drinks, some previously mentioned in chats, like he had written them all down, and got them for you to see.

"You bought the whole store, huh?" You raised an eyebrow playfully.

A grin and a happy thumbs up in return.

As promised.

You spend the next few hours bambling about his bedroom, looking through all the semi-decent hidden school papers, and letting him explain all the pictures on the wall.

He explained things thoroughly, like each detail was inside of him, kept for safekeeping. His eyes would light up in such appreciation, and it almost felt natural when you were caught in his gaze. Like he could keep you for safekeeping too.

Of course, his PlayStation was clean and ready for use, and by the time you two had gotten the controllers out and opened Ramune bottles, the sunlight was long gone. Outside was quiet, but you two didn't care much as you two sat together, him letting you sit on the bed while he took the floor. Glaringly bright flashes of action splattered against the postered walls, and more than once, your playful nudge with your foot against his arm to mess up caused much whining and laughter alike.

His laughter was like an entirely different language, speaking of his delight. It was not a rarity, but still a treasure. It is infectious and only serves to remind you that he is just a teenager, and he is having so well-deserved fun.

Eventually, Maki knocked against the wall and shouted through muffled barriers "Inumaki, be quiet, I am trying to sleep!" the sound alarmed them both, but only created further snickering.

But, they turned off the game in a half-apology and instead put on some horror flick that was on a student-shared Hulu account, and you both settle down eating gummi worms and flavored popcorn.

Maybe it was being distracted by having such a good time, it takes the calm before the storm of the horror movie to realize Toge and you have gotten really comfortable on his bed, backs against his pillows. They smell like his shampoo.. or maybe you are just close enough to smell it off of him. It's soft, comfortable, and clean, and something new to your senses.

He is warm, you can tell. His body is close enough, legs crossed as they lay straight down on top of the duvet, but his arm supports his head, and is behind you on the pillow. He seems semi-entertained (of course, you had challenged him to watch a horror movie.. but maybe challenging a Jujutsu Sorcerer to not get scared was faulty logic. There were scarier things than makeup and bad wigs.)

You didn't wanna look at your phone- you didn't want to see the time and be guilty for staying so long, you knew it must be close to midnight. Would he tell you that you should go to sleep? Would he bring you back to your dorm and say goodbye at the door?

Ignoring the time for the sake of Toge's soft cologne and sheets? Sounded pretty selfish, although it made your stomach flutter.

"Am I keeping you awake?" It comes out as a whisper, and you lean in closer.

"Bonito flakes." He whispered back swiftly with a head shake no, tearing his eyes from the screen to you. He smiles a little, charmingly, as the flecks of violet in his eyes flash with the TV screen. This was the first time you saw them in all their detail, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

When you both turn away from each other, you can feel his arm shift from his face, and around the pillow you were laying on. It makes you shift inevitably closer.

His shirt bunches towards the side he is lying on, revealing the sliver of skin between the hem and the top of his sweatpants, toned and pale in the soft light. You try not to stare.

It makes you think. Was thing.. flirting?

Was the attraction to the cursed speech user simmering ever since the first message? Since the first time you saw him at the beginning of the school year?

Would anybody blame you? All those times when there was nothing to be scared of when he proved nothing less than just a great friend, kind, playful, selfless, and strong?

You knew that would never change- for as long as he was here and breathing. He wanted everyone to know that's who he was.

Who would blame you, as you let the feeling ride with sliding your hand to the middle of his chest? His white sleepshirt is soft after many rounds of wash, but what is even better is resting your cheek against his shoulder, right at the top where his arm meets, and you can feel his eyes glance at you. It feels like such a relief, although you wonder if this is really normal to be happy about.

"Is this okay?" You whisper.

In response, his hand slips away from the distance on the pillow behind you, and the pads of his fingers rest on your arm, hugging you slightly closer.

"Mhm." He hums in approval quietly, and his fingertips graze your soft skin, up and down slowly. "Salmon."

This tango had endured until the near end of the movie, yet you could barely pay attention to any of the plots because Toge was holding you so securely, and letting you trace circles on the middle of his chest, and the sound of his deep breaths were overtaking your thoughts anyways rather than the fake monster on screen.

You are nearly ready to close your eyes, when you can feel a squeeze on your arm, and when you open your eyes, you can see the same notes app in dark mode, with something written out.

/Are you tired?/

"N-No, not yet." You look at the time at the top of the screen. 12:49 am.

He seems amused by that, raising an eyebrow.

"You're just comfortable." You say as you both totally ignore the last few minutes of the movie. "It's nice being with you."

Toge looks at you like he wants to say something, pursing his lips as he smiles and glances away for a moment.

Is your heart racing? This is the best you've felt in weeks. Why does it feel like your stomach is fluttering?

He presents his notes again, and you honestly wish he could say them himself.

/When we first met, I honestly wouldn't think we would be so close. I am really happy we are. I feel like now is a good time to tell u, since we are alone./

Your cheeks feel like they are burning, and its your turn to look away in feble attempt to hide the flush arising.

"I am happy too." You begin to explain, "You're.. you're fun and kind.. you have always been so nice to me and listen to me snore on about classes and training. You watch all the stupid tiktoks I send you and ask for my opinions. I always feel like you notice everything and youre trustworthy. I can.. only hope that I am half as genuine to you as you are to me."

Toge nods in confirmation. It makes you feel like you're on fire, and the background music with the black credits screen cannot even pull your attention from him.

His chest was rising and falling right below your fingertips, and his face slowly focused on you, the tension feels so good and thick, that you honestly wonder how much longer you will convince yourself that normal friendships feel like this.

He was always honest with you. He deserved it in return, but it might be the most vulnerable you've been in years. He deserved that too- he had never held anything back.

"I think I like you."

The words leave your mouth before you even have a chance to smack yourself into reality. Instead, they sit between the darkness and him.

"More than just being friends."

His grip loosens just a tad, and panic seems to run through your body- he was not interested, you had completely misunderstood the situation.

"I-Im sorry-" You take your hands away and try your best to sit up from practically lying down. You were in a boys room, what were you thinking? You should get some space from him, so he doesn't think you a total freak. "I didn't-"

You can feel a tight bond around your wrist, keeping you right where you sit, and when you whip your head back, his eyes are wide with interest and warmth that you want to melt into a puddle of dumb choices. He opens his mouth, maybe to try to say something, but he considers it over and over again. When he feels sure you wont go, he lets go.

He raises a finger to his eye-

I.

both hands cover the center of his chest, cusping it almost-

Heart.

Finally, one last finger. Pointed at-

You..

Was he trying to say.. I like you?

Your body relaxes finally, and the urge to run away is still lingering, but you can't honestly say you want to. Not with how his eyes are flattering with some kind of emotion, his arms opening.

You can't hold back any longer. Your arms swiftly move around his neck as you envelop him so closely, and he instantly hugs you back, pulling you so close your lips meet the skin of his neck. He sounds like he is humming, his hands rubbing your back soothingly. You sit an appreciate his scent, the feeling of his skin, his warmth, for just a moment or two longer until he slowly departs from you, searching your face for any further comment.

"That's really.. really good to hear." You sigh out, with a bit of a smile, reaching to rub a weary eye; you realize he has taken your hand in the process.

He offers his own hand, letting it rub the corner were some wetness at resided, before letting the rest of his finger skin around you hairline, then through your strands of hair. He follows each motion, as he tries to comfort you.

Your hand reaches to sit atop his, and although its late and if someone knew you two were here together, not only would it at the very least be a detention and school clean up duty and at the very best, be a rumor the other students would talk about, despite this you honestly didn't care when the perfect boy was sitting right infront of you, with tussled hair and red lips, just like that night during the movie-party.

"I know its late." She started to say, but he quickly took out his phone again. "I won't keep you up anymore."

/you keep me up no matter what./

/atleast here i get to hear your pretty voice and see your face./

"What do you think about.. when you think of me?" You needed to know what he had been thinking of you all this time.

Instead of using his phone, his hands gently present themselves, and touch parts of your body chastely.

His hands travel from your palm, fingers skimming past your veins in a kind of silent poetry-

Your scars.. your freckles, your strength, your sunkissed summertime skin.

Then, he brushes past your shoulder to twirl around with your hair-

your beauty, the way you attract people.

Then up your face to your temple-

Your brain, your mind.

Then your cheeks-

Your flush, your sweet smiles.

Finally, the pad of his thumb grazes against your chin, right below your lower lip.

The way you speak, the way you are.

You can feel the urge in him, radiating off his lidded eyes and hesistant touch, quietly as he landscapes your being.

"You can, yknow." His eyes look up towards your gaze, "If you want too. If you are ready, of course-"

"Please," The words stilled you instantly, yet he continued holding your face more tenderly. They were soft and yet thick. "Kiss me."

The curse enacted on you, and although for a brief flash there was some concern in his face that perhaps it was too soon, quickly was dismissed when he saw you come closer by the help of his hand, and for just a moment held the proximity between your pairs of lips before slowly pressing close, your lips gently against his.

It was chaste and quiet on the outside, but it was like adding more gunpower to an already lit firework, the explosion of emotion surging your veins making you never wanting to leave.

His thumb was caressing the side of your cheek, it was making you dizzy with his attention. It was everything you had hoped for the moment you had even thought of him- to be close in every single way, to know every part of the perfect, strong, peaceful boy that you so clearly saw every day.

It felt like a dream, but at the very least, hoped you would wake up on his chest, with the Playstation off and the soft breathing of your boy in the air.

But instead, youre both here, and he is kissing you like he has won the lottery.

You both smile, until you couldn't tell when the kiss ended, and where the laughter began.

Surely, he was smart and kind and self-less and strong and all those things youd toss about in your mind at night.

But the idea that this may have never happened because you were too shy to say hello to the usually quiet and calm boy, made you feel like the stupidest yet luckiest girl in the world.

Maybe it was you that had won the jackpot, just by giving away a simple yellow post-it note.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . . ݁₊

thank you so much for reading! this is only ending one. i have plans for a nsfw verison and an misunderstanding verison. please let me know if any of yall are interested!

see you later pookies!

[gysss]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ some birthday art for the twins!!! sorry if its a little late, just posting it for fun! i have quite bad handwriting, so it says happy birthday saeran and saeyoung, incase youre curious (｡T ω T｡)

some personal notes below ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

(too scared to add little notes in tags incase i do it wrong so i hope this is ok)-

i dont really post on social media so not sure if im doing this right. ill maybe submit a more full drawing for the actual contest- but do be warned im not a super good artist and i dont draw a lot of men! i hear people like to make personal tags to sort their posts- so I tried to make one? this is made with pencil in my sketchbook, but i would like to try digital sometime (not for a while though). if you know how i can take and edit the photos better, or tips on how to Tumblr, please let me know!

thanks for looking at my post and reading this! (=^‥^=) ⋆·˚ ༘ *

[jouyato]

"What are you up to?" "Indeed what am I up to?" Artemy wondered aloud, only partly playing the fool. He felt the blood rushing through his veins pick up at unthinkable speeds. "As our knowledgeable scientist, perhaps you should be the one to tell me?"

HAVE YOU GUYS READ И пусть никто не уйдет обиженным???? I'm very unwell over it!!! Everyone please check it out it's very good!! (peak toxic yaoi)

also sorry for weird portrait comp on the art lmao the truth is i just wanted a new phone wallpaper. heres the one ive been using as a placeholder bc i need these two burned into my brain at any given moment. i made it at 2 am on my phone instead of sleeping.

apologies for my ugly cyrillic and my ugly handwriting in general if im going to be honest idk how to write these letters and it shows (how tf do u write the D)

[muffinsin]

I'm so happy you responded :D (and that you write platonic fics , I like romance but platonic is something I'll love forever❤️)

If possible can you do maybe how the sisters would react to their mother adopting a human kid??

Like they come injured and orphaned to work at their castle and alcina is like "this is my child now" and whips her away.

I feel like Cassandra would be the most protective out of the 3 and just carry her with her wherever and bela would make sure she's eating and drinking, maybe teach her to read and write . And Daniela would just play with her all day long while reading her favourite stories .

I love all of your fics and Im sorry if this is too long or just not your cup of tea . Absolutely feel free to ignore this . I hope you have a good day 😊💞

Ofc! :) I try to respond to every inbox noti! (Even if stuff occasionally gets lost in the inbox🙇‍♀️), I can’t blame you at all XD I love writing pretty much all types of things, but platonic is such a sweet and pure type of writing🙌 So happy to hear you like my works! :) Have a good day too hon! This was so cute, I had to pull it to the front of my WIP list🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

Absolutely, this is adorable! Let’s get into it :)

Masterlists

Bela

You catch Bela’s eye immediately, from the moment you enter the castle halls

Your heartbeat is far too quick, far too weak for it to be suitable for work

However, she originally assumes you’re an ill maid. Not a child

Her surprise, therefore, is large when she swarms to you to separate you from the group and label you as a reject

Yet, she finds no one on eye level

Not even on cleavage level

She looks down to see you, a child of small size, look up at her with wide, terrified eyes

What? How did you get here?

She crouches down, for once uncaring as she gives up her usually so intimidating posture

Bela finds herself surprised when she sees tears welling in your little eyes, then feels small arms wrap around her

For a moment, she looks like a deer in the headlights

Still, she knows what she must do. And as such she picks you up effortlessly, a not so subtle grimace on her face as you cough nearly into her ear

She brings you to Alcina, who promises to take care of you and the matter of your sudden appearance

Now, when Bela peeled you off her while you were clinging like a koala, she did not expect to find herself as your sister

However, this was exactly what Alcina announced a couple of days later after some careful consideration

Truly, she thought she would take the news worse. Whenever she thought of another sibling, she mentally rolled her eyes

Another one to share Mother’s attention with…

Another to Shepard…

However, Bela feels an instant bond with you. What’s one more younger sibling?

She’s incredibly maternal with you, as she was and still is with her sisters

Bela takes care of you the majority of the day, and you overall spend the most amount of time with her, out of your new sisters

She ensures you eat and is curious to find out what can all sate your appetite

Are you picky? Are you willing to try all out once? Do you like vegetables? Do you prefer meat? Bela is the one to find all of this out first

She has absolutely had to prevent her sisters from feeding you blood in the past, however

She knows enough of humans to know they are not supposed to eat blood, at least

Your eldest sister teaches you to read and write early on, and proves to be surprisingly patient with it

She reads to you and encourages you to try as well, so that in no time you’re capable of reading easy, short stories the two of you have come up with

She has pristine handwriting, and as she teaches you, she ensures at least one of her siblings picks up on this

With Bela, you often pick up fancy words and phrases, which you in time like to repeat to your mama later on, who always praises you for your ever growing vocabulary

Really, Bela is mainly the reason your vocabulary is so vast

However, one thing your sister makes sure of, evidently more than your other sisters, is not to swear in front of you

Aside from your mama, Bela is the one teaching you manners the most

She teaches you early on to use your words to get what you want

With her, you learn the art of subtle things

Such as subtly intimidating people, or, in time, insulting people without having them notice it, even

She teaches you to influence others in order to gain what you want

This, ironically, usually doesn’t work on her

But your mama and Daniela? It works perfectly as an alternative to your puppy eyes

Asides from all these aspects, Bela loves to keep you with her while she works

She often enough pulls you to her lap to cuddle while she fills out paperwork, a warm smile on her face when you show her the drawing you’ve been working on

Your sister and mother share this, it seems

Cassandra

Upon learning she gets a new sibling, she isn’t exactly thrilled

She loves her sisters incredibly much, this is undeniable

But another sibling? She fights for her Mother’s attention so as it is already!

However, upon meeting you properly, you’ve immediately got her wrapped around your little finger the second you walk up to her and give her sickle a curious yank

Immediately, she smirks

Oh, yes, she likes you

Cassandra loves to spend her time with you

Mainly because she knows you’re completely in awe of her, and she loves it

She wants to prove that she can be a role model, too

She’s incredibly protective of you. No one is allowed to get close to you without her there

And even if someone is there, Cassandra makes it perfectly clear that you’re a Dimitrescu and are to be respected as such

So what if your tiny frame and soft cheeks are so damn adorable?

If she catches even a single maid fussing over you, an example is made out of her

Cassandra picks you up whenever she sees you

You’re so tiny to her, and she makes sure to be careful with you. She knows best how fragile humans are

However, not once has she hurt you, even accidentally

Your older sister takes perfect care of you, and you love to spend time with her

Out of all the things Cassandra teaches you, one of them is to stand up for yourself

While Bela teaches you to ask for what you want, your other sister takes a different approach;

She teaches you to take what you want. As her sibling, you’re a Dimitrescu. As such, you are entitled to things

What you aren’t given, you can take

She demonstrates this plenty, and even as you often see her consume blood or even cut the maids and scare them openly, you never find yourself being afraid of her

At first, this catches Cassandra off guard

She was so worried she’d scare you because you’re so young

But being scared of your sister? What a silly thought. Even as she is covered in blood from head to toe, you grin as you urge your little legs to bring you to her and jump up into her arms

Cassandra is the one to teach you how to protect yourself incredibly early on

Because she knows how fragile and weak most humans are, she refuses to let you become such

She play fights with you a lot, and allows you to watch her train

She notices early on that you seem to have taken a liking to watching her train especially

You could giggle and sit in awe for hours as she moves effortlessly

Her hits on the dummy are powerful, and you awe whenever she accidentally slices into it with her sickle

Often, she trains with you, though. Small, easy things. Nothing that could get you injured

You’re taught how to keep your footing and stand your ground even with unsteady, little legs

This in particular comes in handy when your mama attempts to lift you off the floor to put you in the bath, yet you don’t feel like it

Often you pull a concentrated frown as you stick in place as though glued to the floor

Whenever you tell your sister of this, she smirks proudly, which in turn has you feel proud

However, even as Cassandra helps and encourages you with every little thing you want, even she has her limits

You are not to go hunting with her outside of the tiny, secluded area that she knows is safe

Unlike your sisters, you aren’t allowed to venture further into the forest yet

And while you sometimes whine about this, your complains are often shut down when Cassandra agrees to tell you stories of her triumphs

Often you ask her to sit by your side in bed and tell you a bedtime story of how she took down all sorts of prey

Alcina only smiles fondly whenever her middle child adds factors that didn’t quite happen

She never corrects Cassandra, though, and only praises her when you fall asleep midway through her stories

When she does take you hunting, you are to stick close to her side. And you always do. And Cassandra always keeps you safe

There has never been a close call with your older sister right by your side, and so you are often allowed to go with her, a toy bow and a stick for a knife in your hand as you watch her hunt and try to copy her movements

Funnily enough, such moments lead to your success at hunting much, much later in your life

Daniela

She is in a mix of emotions and thoughts when Alcina tells everyone a new sibling is joining the family

On one hand, she doesn’t want to give up her title as the youngest sister. The baby of the family. The one to get away with everything

She’s grown so very comfortable in her role

Even before she meets you, Daniela is jealous. Why must you take this all from her?

Will she still be mama’s favourite? After all, now you will be the baby of the family

She doesn’t feel ready to become a middle child. She’s not ready to be more mature than she wants to be

Instead, Daniela just wants to keep living her fantasy life with no worries whatsoever

Alcina, of course, notices her youngest- no, second youngest’s- distress even before introducing you

She reassures, nothing will change for Daniela, other than having another sibling. She will still be loved just as much, there is no need being jealous and trying to fight for attention

As such, her feelings of jealousy and annoyance are replaced with adoration when she meets you

You’re so tiny! And so- human

She can’t help but hug you immediately. She’s very careful with you, and grins when you smile up at her

Daniela spoils you endlessly

You know to find her when you want candy (even after or just before dinner!) or a special treat

She can’t ever say no to you. You’re just so cute!

She’s your older sister, but she’s also your partner in crime

It starts by teaching you the ways of one of her most powerful weapon; her trusted puppy eyes

She assures you, those will make all of Mama’s resolves fade away

Whether it’s about getting a new toy or attention, extra time before bed or favours, the puppy eyes come in clutch

While yours are excellent already, Daniela helps you perfect them

Additionally, she is always up for playing games

No matter the time, your sister always jumps at the idea of playing

She especially likes to play chase with you, though, and even makes sure to slow down to ensure you’re able to run a little longer, or at least stand a chance at catching her

She also loves to play hide and seek together

The only problem? Both of you are by far too good at hiding, and not quite as good at seeking

Often, you must convince one of your older sisters to join in and seek

Bela has offered to do this multiple times as a way to ensure you and Daniela stay out of trouble while she gets some work done

Daniela loves playing pretend with you, too

She has so many toys, and she’s willing to share them all with you!

Often, you have sword fights with sticks or race the castle to find the hidden treasure hidden by one of your other sisters

Daniela is incredibly close to you, as are you to her

She loves to cuddle with you, and uses any excuse to be able to do so. You’re so tiny and warm, just like a teddy bear

Often, the two of you curl up in a corner in the library

With snacks, drinks and blankets surrounding you, you love to lean against her as she reads fairytales to you

While Bela also enjoys to read, you fine Daniela’s reading by far more entertaining, though. Mainly for the fact that she brings the characters in the stories to life

She loves to giggle along with you as you read, and often encourages you to try reading a small passage yourself

When you do, she always praises you and makes it a point to tell Alcina how your reading’s improving

You know, as with Bela and Cassandra, you can always count on Daniela

[dwntwn-strnlo]

Hi i can’t take any medication for migraines because they don’t do anything for me so would I be able to get an imagine about Matt comforting and caring for the reader and doing anything he can think of to help her pain? Much love

thank you sm for the request!!! love you ❤️

STAY GOLD, PONYBOY matt sturniolo

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, dwntwn-strnlo.

↳ 𝐀/𝐍. im actually in love w this ALSO ive never had a migraine (sorry 😪🤑) but my mom gets them a lot so i just based this off what she does ig

↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. matthew sturniolo x reader

↳ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. request!

↳ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃? yes!

↳ 𝐂𝐖! migraines,,, + spoilers?? from The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

,,, this takes a passage from The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. i did not write or publish The Outsiders, and I'm not affiliated with at all.

the second you opened your eyes you felt sick. you roll over to find matt propped up against the headboard, lazy eyes as he watches his phone.

the curtains were shut, but you could still tell it was dark out.

your eyes wince shut at the brightness of matts phone in the unlit room.

"hey, its only like two am, i thought you were going to sleep?" matt queries, his attention drifting from his phone to you. you open your eyes and reach out for his phone, turning it off before you look at him.

your head was pounding hard enough you ought your brain was to jump out of your skull. the pain already threatened to form tears in your eyes.

"love?" matt furrowed his eyes at you.

it seemed as if the light blue of his eyes was bright enough to enhance your migraine, though they aren't.

you burry your head into the pillow next to matt. scared to speak out of fear of throwing up, but you push through it. "i have a migraine." your words are muffled against the pillow case, but he easily catches what you said.

"shit, sweetheart. im sorry." he sighs, bringing a hand over to gently rub your back. "ill be right back with some tea and medicine."

bringing your hands up to your temples, you lightly circle them with your fingers. trying to press the stupid pain away. you nod, and the bed evens out as matt gets up and walks to the door. "i love you, honey, ill be quick I swear."

you just groan into the pillow in response.

the light chuckle that matt let's out rings through your ears. unintentionally causing a little more pain.

but it's like suddenly you can hear everything.

like the faintest whispers that come from the kitchen as matt seemingly ran into one of his brothers.

the conversation is hushed, but it's still there.

after a few more minutes of rubbing the hell out of your temples, you turn your head to watch matt walk in with the red mug you got him for valentines day. presumably filled with the tea he said he was going to make you.

he sets it down on the nightstand by your head, leaning down to press a quick kiss on your cheek before walking into the bathroom. making sure to close the door before turning the light on.

you sit up, slightly wincing at the feeling that you pretend is your brain smacking repeatedly against your skull.

the painted ceramic is slightly hot when you pick it up, but you still put it up to your lips. basking in the taste of your favorite tea.

the bathroom light shuts off with a gentle click! before matt walks out holding various inflammation pill bottles and whatever he could scoop off the cabinet shelf.

he sets them down on the nightstand, before sitting on the bed next to you.

you smile as his eyes light up, an idea popping in his head. "do you want me to read to you?"

a small giggle escaped your lips. in the nicest way possible, matts dyslexia is almost as awful as his handwriting. but yet there's something so soothing about listening to him read or try to read what's sprawled out on the pages of a book you haven't picked up in a while. so you nod, smiling at the brunet.

he smiles back before sliding open the drawer beside you. pulling out the outsiders. you read the book for school when you were 13ish, and when you saw it at the neighborhood book box you just had to grab it. you made it about three quarters through before you forgot about it and let it collect dust in your boyfriends room.

you take your select pills before turning to matt. who flips through the book, waiting for you. from your knowledge, matt never read the outsiders so him jumping into the middle of the book should be a sight.

matt scooted up to prop himself up against the headboard, motioning for you to lay down.

you set your tea down, and lay down. wrapping yourself around matts torso and laying your head on his chest. trying your best to match his breathing.

"shit, your far along," he mumbles, mostly to himself. but you can't help but smile. he scans the page before going to where your sticky note lays against the thin paper.

he takes in a soft breath before starting to read aloud the words. ""we won, dally panted. we beat the so-"" he pauses, staring at the word. "socks? what the fuck."

you laughed, "socs. it's pronounced soshes."

"oh." he huffs, "'we stomped them-chased them outta our territory.' johnny didn't even try to grin at him. 'useless . . . fightings no good. . . ." he was awful white.' dally licked his lips nervously. 'they-theyre still writing editorials about you in the paper. for being a hero and all."" matt furrowed his eyebrows at the page. "what did johnny do?"

"he and ponyboy saved-"

"ponyboy?! for real?" he cuts you off. "ain't no way that's this kids name."

you laugh, burying your face in his neck. looking back up to matt, you find a look of pure confusion sitting against his blue eyes. "im serious. there's also a kid named sodapop and another named two-bit."

he gasped, "your lying."

you shake your head with a smile. "just keep reading, kid."

an exasperated sigh escapes his lungs, followed by an over dramatized eye roll. "he was talking too fast and too calmly. 'yeah, they're calling you a hero now and heroine- huh?"

lifting yourself up slightly, you find where he's confused and laugh to yourself. "heroizin' all the greasers."

"that's not a real word."

"well it was in the 60s, baby." you smile.

he searches your eyes in disbelief. "this is why I don't read." he groans, turning back to the book. "johnny's eyes glowed. dally was proud of him. that was all johnny had ever wanted. 'ponyb-'"

he cuts himself off when he reads the name. "jesus christ you were serious."

you laugh lightly. the pounding in your head still not calming down, but matts inability to focus is enough to distract you just a little.

"'i barely heard him. i came closer and leaned over to hear what he was going to say."

he stops reading when you unconsciously brace yourself, knowing what the next line is going to be.

"what? is something wrong?"

you sigh, "no, this part just makes me sad."

"oh," he frowns. now scared to keep reading himself. he takes in a deep breath, no idea what he should be preparing himself for. "'stay gold, ponyboy. stay gold . . .' the pillow seemed to sink a little, and johnny died."

you frown. this part made you cry when you read in class.

"shiiiiiiiiit." matt gasps. "bro really just died."

his reaction makes you laugh. you egg him on to continue reading, until you somehow ignore your migraine and fall asleep in matts arms. his softly uttered words of confusion and slight annoyance putting you right to sleep.

TAGLIST

@slvt444smvt @thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo

[socstudies]

Hi, as someone who is going to be in their first year of college this fall, I'm curious about the note taking part

Is physical or digital note taking easier?

Is spending money on a laptop nessesary?

What is something you wish you would've done differently during your first year?

Do you have any advice?

If by any chance you see this, your blog and your aesthetic are amazing!

I'm wishing you a wonderful day/night.

If you do decide to reply, thank you in advance <3

helloo! sorry for the late reply & thank u for the ask! :)

ive tried both and i think i prefer handwritten notes, however they both have their pros and cons:

handwritten pros

proven to be better for retaining information

can't get distracted by other tabs

lighter to carry

costs less than a laptop

i've had some classes where we weren't allowed to use laptops so it's good to already be used to taking notes this way

cons:

much slower. sometimes i find im missing stuff and i have to go back to it at the end

have to print out diagrams etc if u want to include them

could possibly lose them, spill something etc

not enough space on desk for both laptop and notebook so u can't get slides up or google something

digital pros:

much quicker

easier to organise & pull up different notes at any time - u don't need to carry around or find older notebooks to be able to study or refer back to past classes

some people make notes directly onto the slides which u would have to print out if u wanted to do by hand

can also use for research and writing essays which u will need a computer for at some point so might as well do everything in one place

cons:

expensive

more stressful if u lose or break it

if u forget to charge it and u don't have paper .......

this upcoming year, im using a combination. most of the time i'll handwrite my notes, but for classes where they talk too quickly i'll type them (it's not worth the stress & extra time having to go back to recordings after). my notes for readings will be annotated straight onto the pdf. i'll be taking pictures of notes to put them all together.

---

unfortunately, i think it is because you'll need computer access to research and write ur essays, as well as to find course information etc. HOWEVER some universities (most?) have laptops that u can borrow and computers in the library, so if u know that you'll be motivated enough to get up and do all of ur work on campus, you could save this cost - bare in mind when u move off campus after first year it might be even harder. definitely look into this if cost is an issue for you! it doesn't need to be a fancy one if u do buy a laptop though, just remember u'll be carrying it around so don't get a super heavy one!

---

as for something i wish i'd done differently: as a sociology student, none of my classes have exams where i have to memorise things, instead it's all essay based. this led me to not 'study' i guess ??? like the stuff that i wrote my essays on, i knew like the back of my hand, but everything else i couldn't remember well. so if ur taking an essay based subject, remember that u still need to study a little & remember these things !! i was so overwhelmed tbh that i forgot about this oopsie!

---

extra advice:

when people say that after u skip one class, u'll skip the rest THEY. MEAN. IT. literally try so hard not to miss class bc you will never go again if u do. my classes would start off with not enough seats for everybody and end up with just a handful of us by the end of term.....

make time for urself !! it can become all consuming, especially if u live on campus, but pls make some dedicated time away from studying !!

u will find ur friends eventually. pls remember that it won't last or be that fun if u stick with friends who u don't have that much in common with just bc they were the first u met. tell me why i was going to bars and clubs with people in first term bc that;s what they wanted to do ????? it's ok to move onto different people bc u will eventually get tired of doing these things u don't like just to be able to hang out with people !! now i go to bookstores and cafes with my new friends and i love it!! don't settle !!

[presleyluvschris]

The Drawer

pairing(s): jj maybank x pouge!reader

i think this is an imagine/blurb

requests are open 🫶🏼

enjoy 🤍

------------------------------------------------------- authors note you were searching around in the chateau for the keys to the twinkie, but you happen to stumble upon a drawer of love letters towards one girl in particular.

word count: 566 (sorry its short!)

warnings: fluff, language, grammar

-------------------------------------------------------

"okay john b, geez, im coming!" you shuffle around the chateau looking in every cabinet and drawer. "where the hell did pope put the keys?"

you sigh and toss beer bottles out of your way trying to look for where these dumbass boys keep their things at, because you, john b, and kie were all supposed to be going surfing for the day.

"are you sure its in here?" you ask

"positive." john b folds his arms to the back of his head.

you look endlessly around, but you cant find the keys. so, after you made your rounds through the entire place, you decide to check the last room you were sure it wouldn't be in, but you had no other option. you creaked open the door to big john's office, thank god it was unlocked.

You take a step in and begin searching through the drawers and lifting maps and papers.

you place your hand on another drawer and pull it open its cool handle to find a bunch of little pieces of very recklessly folded paper.

"probably more ripped maps or something", you say to yourself.

you rustle through the paper and unfold it, to find a letter written in sloppy handwriting, that adresses your name.

you furrow and cock your head in confusion trying to read what its saying.

then your heart skips a beat.

it was a love letter, from jj.

multiple, actually.

you kept reading through it and it made your eyes water from all of the sweet things he said in the little peices of paper.

it made you warm and fuzzy but almost excited and and full of butterflies at the same time.

he had written letters to you for when you are sad, one for when you are happy, and in that one particularly, he wouldn't stop talking about your smile, and how it lit up.

you softly smile and press your pointer finger to your lips and laugh.

after you read some of them, you wiped a tear away from your eyes, chuckled, and left the room to find the keys in john b's couch the entire time. you roll your eyes, someone must have sat on them.

that night, you and the pogues were all sitting by the fire, per usual, sipping beers and laughing.

sarah said something that made you laugh, and jj glanced at you and smiled, and then looked down at his boots.

you notice jj looking, and you turn your attention to the blonde boy.

"what is it, j?" you ask

"your smile."

"how it lights up my whole face? i know, you never shut up about it in that note."

his mouth slightly opens in shock and he begins to blush

"how did you-"

"just, shut up."

you smile and lean over to press your lips to his. it was a passionate, and free kiss. he kisses you back with an equal amount of love.

you pull away and gaze up at his eyes while the flames of the fire radiate on both of you.

butterflies swarmed in your stomach and up your throat, making you giggle like a little girl, as he tucked a piece of hair that fell from your face back behind your ear.

laughter from your friends echoed. It felt like you were the only girl in the world at that moment.

"i have my ways."

[typhea]

✮﹒❄️﹐BNHA BOYS + ‘MY KIND OF WOMAN’

﹐♡﹒featuring : izuku, shoto, katsuki, eijirou, dabi, hanta ♡

﹐♡﹒infos : fluff , gn!reader, reader is called a pervert, reader is called kinky, it’s just for fun dww ♡

﹐♡﹒summary : judging you according to ur fav (don’t take me seriously 😭) ♡

──﹐MIDORIYA IZUKU

i wanna be friends with you.

you’re the sweetest, kindest, and most caring darling and everyone knows it.

you act cute and innocence to hide that you’re a pervert.

you’re the “it’s mean, it’s not funny.” friend.

you have abandonment issues.

you’re either really smart or really dumb, no in between.

you have the prettiest smile like, smile rq? 😍

izuku would definitely love you <3

──﹐TODOROKI SHOTO

you overthink a lot.

you’re quiet but you have wild thoughts, like are you ok?

you probably have family/parents issues or you have the weirdest friends.

i bet you got a pretty voice.

you’re sweet but .. nobody knows it?

you have mood swings.

you’re really funny when you want to.

shoto would take a while to confess tbh but he would definitely give you the best signs 🤭

──﹐BAKUGOU KATSUKI

you got serious issues to be liking this type of men.

i bet you would make him shut his mouth sometimes, like in awe with how crazy you are.

you’re not cute i’m sorry, maybe you’re hot? 😏

all your clothes are black.

you’re delusional, like.. really.

you’re cute when you shut your mouth, not in a mean way like you really are. i mean like lost in thoughts idk i’m sorry, dont punch me 😞

you’re sensitive..

katsuki literally hates you but he’s even more pissed when you’re not there like, he loves to hate you :D

──﹐KAMINARI DENKI

hii, i wanna be your friend.

i bet you’re literally a sunshine. like YOU’RE MAKING ME SMILE

no one notices when you’re sad but denki will

you have insomnia! :D

you got the best taste in everything ; clothes, music, food, .. anything!

you’re unable to say no to anyone, scared to hurt them. sometimes you even let them disrespect you or your boundaries BUT YOU SHOULDNT 😫

your handwriting looks like a 6 years old’s, im sorry. are you left-handed by any chance..?

denki would be obsessed with you ngll <33

──﹐KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

you’re cute.

you look like a mitski song and a the weeknd song at the same time.

smile more? im obsessed.

you’re the sweetest butterfly in the world, you deserve love and affection 🤭

i bet people be telling you you’re beautiful but you still think the opposite :<

i see you with 7 kids.

you’re so patient and understanding, i know you listen to everyone vent but you never vent to anyone.

eijirou would treat you like the most precious person in the world <3

──﹐DABI

um .. you’re scary.

you’re kinky.

you get wild murder and bloody thoughts when you’re bored.

you love sweet food.

you’re mentally ill.

you’re manipulative, ahhh.

you got the prettiest eyes, IM SHAKING.

dabi would definitely fuc.. i mean he would enjoy ur company ig..

──﹐SERO HANTA

you got the best vibes fr!

i know you’re a great dancer, you’re just shy.

i bet you’re stunning, like only beautiful people likes him.

you’re kinda nonchalant.

you got a mirroring personality, you love making others comfortable with you.

your cooking skills are amazing like lemme have a taste 🙇‍♀️

you act dumb but you’re really smart.

sero would be your bestest bsf fr with benefits

thanks for reading darlin! don’t forget to like and leave a comment :)

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