#indulging myself in this pre new years week

[spacepunksupreme]

So entertained by the number of smash or pass polls/ who’s hottest poll brackets on my dash lately. I’m gonna make a little Bond bracket. Stay tuned

[sanakiras]

BLOOM FOR ME

PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader

WORD COUNT — 18.1k

SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!

♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song

NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x

you and kim mingyu just don't work.

to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.

and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.

all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.

you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.

soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.

and then there’s mingyu.

he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.

the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.

you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.

yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.

perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.

non-existent.

neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.

for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.

or, well — that used to be the case.

because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.

it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.

had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.

it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.

but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.

neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.

after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.

but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.

when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.

“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.

“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“what we did. together.”

“we fucked. so what?”

oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.

“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”

“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”

“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”

“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”

even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.

“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”

sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”

his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.

“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”

“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.

“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.

to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.

many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?

he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.

mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.

he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.

his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.

if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.

and now, those feelings have only increased.

his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.

then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.

god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?

it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.

when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—

—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.

it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?

then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.

he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.

cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”

“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”

that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.

the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.

your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.

it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.

tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.

which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.

by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.

well, shit.

the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.

what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.

he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.

it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don’t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.

“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”

mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.

it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.

it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.

both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.

it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.

mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.

“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”

oh.

he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.

so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”

“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”

“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”

you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”

the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”

“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”

god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.

“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”

mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”

“not even a little bit?”

you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”

he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”

“i said no basics.”

“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”

“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.

“you’re evil.”

“thank you.”

he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”

“congratulations.”

“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”

“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”

mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”

“oh, you mean like a conversation?”

he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”

“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”

“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”

“which of your friends is closest to you?”

yeah, he should’ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.

he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”

“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.

“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”

“no.”

“why?”

“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”

“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”

“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it then?”

“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”

he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.

physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”

“okay. anything i should know?”

you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”

he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”

not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.

mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.

once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”

“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.

“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.

and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.

it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.

“hey. mingyu.”

he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”

“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”

“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.

“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”

“many times, actually.”

“good. ‘cause you are.”

jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.

“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.

mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”

“what does she do?”

“law.”

“she nice?”

“to a specific group of people, yeah.”

“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”

“not mean. just distant. very distant.”

“that’s new.”

“what is?”

“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”

“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”

“how do you know?”

mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”

“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”

the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”

jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”

“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”

a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”

“soonyoung’s party.”

“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.

“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”

“ah, you like her.”

“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”

“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”

mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”

“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”

“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”

“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”

“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”

jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”

“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”

“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”

“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”

right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.

“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.

it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”

jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”

he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”

mingyu frowns at that. “how?”

and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”

the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.

someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.

you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”

“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”

“no, i like it this way.”

“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”

“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”

“what’re you working on?”

“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”

he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.

“are you always this much on edge?”

“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”

the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”

“not exactly the word i would use.”

“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”

you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”

he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”

“yeah. i’m not attending.”

“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”

“gosh, poor you.”

“i’m serious. it sucks.”

“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”

“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”

“so?”

“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.

“why?”

“why not?”

“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”

“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”

he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”

“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”

you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”

he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”

“ten.”

“dress code?”

“go for a cocktail dress.”

twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”

“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”

“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”

and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.

mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?

you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”

he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.

the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”

“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”

“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”

“must get quiet after a while.”

“i like it that way.”

your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.

once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.

you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.

as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”

the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”

mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.

the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”

which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”

before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.

“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”

“noted.”

once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.

and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.

“you okay?”

“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.

he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.

“am i imagining things—”

“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”

joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”

mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.

but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.

what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.

“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”

in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”

“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.

you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”

“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”

“why?”

“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”

his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”

whatever the fuck that means.

your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.

the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.

and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.

mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.

being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.

so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.

you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.

chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.

though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.

after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”

mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”

you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.

the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.

mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.

as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.

his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”

“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”

he snickers. “you hear that often?”

“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”

“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”

“doesn’t everyone?”

“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”

“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.

mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”

he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”

“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”

“why?”

when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.

“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.

before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.

whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.

“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.

so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”

they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”

he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.

it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”

the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”

“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”

she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.

but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”

and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”

you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”

the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.

worst thing is that she’s probably right.

you and mingyu just don’t work.

and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?

the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.

when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”

even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”

“i’m fine.”

“i’ll take you back.”

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”

mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.

then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.

goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.

she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.

mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.

the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.

god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.

you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.

of course it’s him.

“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.

“why am i here?”

“what do you mean?”

you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”

“are you angry at me?”

“answer the question.”

“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”

you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”

“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”

“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”

“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”

what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.

you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”

“well—what?”

“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”

“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”

“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.

it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.

“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.

so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”

he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.

whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.

his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.

mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.

there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.

you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.

holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.

“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”

the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”

with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

“are you sure?”

“yeah. please let me.”

“okay. just make it quick.”

in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.

your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.

his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.

another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.

“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.

it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.

“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.

you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.

“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”

the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”

he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.

mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.

“god—want me to fuck you?”

pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“fine. bend over the sink, then.”

the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.

so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.

his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.

all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”

you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”

it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”

“don’t act like you don’t like it.”

he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”

god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.

his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.

and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.

“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.

“how hard d’you want it?”

“as hard as you want. i can take it.”

he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.

his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.

you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.

it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”

“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”

you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”

“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.

mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.

you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.

he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.

“are you gonna cum, gyu?”

you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”

“i want you to.”

“jesus, don’t say that—”

oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.

“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.

his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”

“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”

his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.

it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.

he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”

he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”

“you’re quite literally inside me.”

“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”

“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”

“great. level 2 is next, then.”

“god, forget i said anything.”

“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”

something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.

because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.

and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.

the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.

and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.

he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.

it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.

something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.

so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.

20:23: you look cute when you’re focused

the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.

so he texts back.

20:24: i always look cute ;)

tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”

“no. you’re just scary.”

“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”

“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”

“wanna come over to my dorm?”

“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”

“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”

“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”

as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.

“mingyu.”

“hm?”

“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”

he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”

“she likes you.”

“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”

“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.

that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.

“what?”

“you’re jealous.”

“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.

“it’s actually kinda hot.”

“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”

“and yet you are.”

“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”

he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.

as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.

once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.

you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”

“i’m fine.”

he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”

you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.

mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.

so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”

he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”

when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”

“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”

“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”

“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.

“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”

“do you even have the time to help me?”

he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”

“always so humble.”

“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”

“whatever makes you sleep at night.”

mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.

he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.

and you hate how easily you get used to it.

for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.

which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.

so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.

as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.

“your girlfriend texting you again?”

mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”

“she might as well be.”

“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”

shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”

“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”

joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.

“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”

ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”

“have you told her you like her?”

“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”

joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”

“is she open with you?”

“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”

mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.

give it time.

which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.

you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.

just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember — it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.

a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.

“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”

his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”

“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”

“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”

with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”

“what do you have in mind?”

he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”

now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”

he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”

you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.

damn that asshole for making you like him this much.

saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.

mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.

it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.

your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.

then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.

before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.

he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.

mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.

watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.

you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.

shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.

it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.

you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.

the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.

it’s all yells of happiness on the field.

the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.

you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.

following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.

mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.

when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.

he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.

but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”

“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.

“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”

you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”

he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”

“something i’m very aware of.”

he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.

“wanna go catch a drink with me?”

“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”

“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”

he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”

you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.

“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.

you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”

“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.

once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”

oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.

you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”

you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”

christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.

he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.

you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.

“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.

his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.

you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.

arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.

“fuck, fuck, baby—”

you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”

it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.

his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”

“‘m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”

he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.

the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.

both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.

you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.

“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.

maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”

“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”

he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”

“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.

he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?

another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call — and you find yourself worried about him.

it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.

you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.

it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.

when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.

the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”

he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”

“absolutely.”

he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”

you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”

he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”

you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”

the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”

he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”

his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”

as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”

“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”

your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”

his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.

as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.

you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.

maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.

one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.

you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.

now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.

you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.

they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.

still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.

smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.

out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.

you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.

when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.

slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.

you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.

‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’

he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.

and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.

you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.

looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”

“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.

you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”

“is there anything i can do in return?”

“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”

the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”

a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”

your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”

it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”

“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”

the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.

he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.

and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.

whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.

but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.

after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.

when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”

“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”

“i haven’t been avoiding you.”

“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”

you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”

he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”

“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.

“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”

“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.

“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”

he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”

it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”

“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”

“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.” his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”

either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.

your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.

kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.

so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.

he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.

“fuck.”

it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.

which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.

it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.

you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”

minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”

hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.

“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.

“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”

he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.

your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.

mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”

he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.

there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”

they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.

he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”

“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”

“it’s not that easy.”

seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

the other two just deadpan a stare at him.

on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.

you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.

the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.

as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.

“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”

when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.

personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.

biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”

“and? what’s your judgement?”

“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”

he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”

him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.

people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.

and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.

in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.

“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.

you exhale when he doesn’t.

knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.

minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.

as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”

“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”

he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”

you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”

“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”

taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”

minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”

the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”

he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”

you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”

hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”

with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.

there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.

“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

“mind if i join you?”

of course. why are you even surprised?

without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”

“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.

you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”

luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.

he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.

since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.

the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.

his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.

you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.

liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.

the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.

“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”

“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”

your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”

of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?

mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”

that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.

“can i ask you something?”

you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.

“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”

an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”

“why not?”

blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”

“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”

“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”

he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.

“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.

“no, you don’t.”

“how would you know?”

you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”

“why?”

“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”

“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”

“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”

mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”

“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”

“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”

“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”

“since… always.”

“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”

“no, but i liked you.”

“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”

“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”

“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”

it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.

every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.

but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.

another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.

the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.

“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”

his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”

the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”

it’s not often you’re speechless.

he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.

“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”

he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”

“have a good night, gyu.”

you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.

as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”

letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”

“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”

you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.

“why do you even want me to?”

“‘cause i like you.”

“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”

“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”

“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”

his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.

mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.

“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”

you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”

but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”

“why don’t you wanna try?”

“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”

“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”

“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”

“then explain them to me!”

“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”

“no, i wouldn’t.”

“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”

“how do you even know that?”

“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”

“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”

the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”

“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”

“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.

and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.

“i don’t wanna lose you.”

he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”

his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.

it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.

mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.

he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.

you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[jujumin-translates]

★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 12 - What I Can Do Now

*Phone rings*

Masumi: …

Misaki: “Hello?”

Masumi: What do you want?

Misaki: “Is now a good time?”

Masumi: Yeah.

Misaki: “Since last week, we’ve had a local student intern at our overseas branch.”

Misaki: “They’re in high school now, but they’re very promising, so I believe they’ll be asked to join full-time once they’ve graduated from high school or college.”

Masumi: …And?

Misaki: “Even though you’re only in your second year of college, you’ll be in your third and then fourth year before you know it, Masumi.”

Misaki: “I was just wondering whether you’ll get a job in the future, or if you’re going to continue with acting.”

Masumi: …It’s too early for me to say.

Misaki: “Now’s not the time to be so leisurely. Students who are seriously considering things have their eyes set on getting an internship from the moment they enroll.”

Masumi: …I’m focused on theater right now, so I’m not thinking about that. I’ll think about it when the time comes.

Misaki: “If you need anything at all, talk to me right away.”

Masumi: Got it. …Bye.

*Beep*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: …Haah.

Izumi: …Hmm… No, that’s not… Ah! This might work!

Masumi: ?

Izumi: Agh, of course, that didn’t work… Well then, if I just… Nope, not that either…

Masumi: She’s so cute when she makes all those faces…

Izumi: Hmm…

Masumi: What are you doing?

Izumi: Hm? I’m just revising our ticketing and promotion methods.

Izumi: I want to do whatever I can to prepare for the new Fleur Award, even if it’s through things not related to the contents of the performance.

Izumi: I’ve been able to do lots of things related to directing thanks to Banri-kun, so I have to do my best in return!

Masumi: I could be an assistant director too, you know.

Izumi: If you’re really interested in directing, then of course, I’ll let you help when the time comes, Masumi-kun, but…

Izumi: That’s not the reason you’d be doing it, is it?

Masumi: …Then, I’ll help with promotions.

Izumi: I appreciate the sentiment, but that requires a certain amount of knowledge to do, and right now you need to focus on yourself and Spring Troupe’s performance rather than on me, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: …Fine. But don’t overwork yourself. Take a break after an hour.

Masumi: If I see you still working, I’m automatically defaulting to making you take a break myself.

Izumi: Automatically!?

Izumi: Ah, is this how you get Tsuzuru-kun to take breaks? Thank you. I’ll be careful.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (I’ve got an outline for a promotion plan together, but I still need to work on it some more…)

Misumi: All of ‘em look so interesting~!

Yuki: The saturation’s definitely been upped on all of them.

Kazunari: I know, right~? I mean, people are putting up flyers everywhere lately, so they’re probs all designed like that so they stand out more.

Izumi: What are you guys doing?

Muku: We’ve been collecting flyers from other troupes to use as references.

Tenma: The faster troupes have already gotten going on their performances.

Izumi: Huh, already!?

Izumi: (No, we don’t need to rush, we don’t need to rush…)

Itaru: Ah, this one’s from that “Yua Troupe” that formed during the pre-voting. They’re really putting on a performance this soon, huh.

Muku: This one here also says it’s a debut performance.

Izumi: There sure are a lot of new theater companies. You can’t tell what their performances are like just from the flyer, so I’d like to go see one of them at least once.

Citron: I am very interested in this “Indulgence In Working Overtime Gang”!

Sakuya: Their name’s pretty funny!

Izumi: Huh, they’re a pretty new theater company too. Why don’t we go watch their performance together?

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[trulybetty]

Sunday Week In Review XVI & 2023 Wrapped

I feel like 2023 just started five minutes ago, am I the only one who feels like this year as passed by quickly but at the same time dragged its heels?

I've seen so many lovely end of year close out posts and years in review. I toyed with how I wanted to close out the year and what I could say that could sum it up sufficiently.

Betty rambles under the cut with this weeks reads if you're interested...

2023 has been a weird year if I'm entirely honest and somewhat isolating. I returned from mat leave, back to working from home, and having to scramble to make adjustments when things fell through. Which resulted in Mr. Truly and I working opposite shifts to ensure the S.S. Truly stayed afloat.

But during the last six months somehow I made it back to Tumblr, to an old account from way back when - pre-dating when the Canucks made it to game seven kinda old - I blew off the dust, cleaned house and made myself a little space. I still don't know 100% how it all happened, though I think it started with the Reddit forum.

You don't need to know the whole spiel about Pedro, because while we're here because of him, it's the community that holds us here. After floating and not really knowing what I was doing, I started to make connections within this community and finding a seat at the table (we'll come back to that) and I found joy again. I'd kinda lost myself in the fog that is half a dozen other titles/roles others looked to me as that had replaced just Betty.

I started writing, hadn't done that in years. I rekindled by love for graphic design, what I went to school for. I was reading books again, as well as so many great fanfics here. I even bought poetry books, something I hadn't done since I don't know when.

I've been really fortunate in my experience that I've encountered so many wonderful people. I may not get to be as social as I'd like to be, and I still have a fear of dropping into DM's & Asks unannounced. I have the shittest memory, if I don't keep a tab open or reply straight away it's sometimes days or weeks before I remember again. But I really hope that I've returned in kind what others have given me because I'd hate for anyone to feel like they don't belong here, because you do.

This community is a table (told you I'd come back) and it's size is immeasurable. It has no bounds and there's always room for whatever kind of chair you pull up and if you don't have one? We'll find one. Need to leave for a while? We'll save your seat. This my friends is a community, and if you're met with those who tell you the table is full, I'm telling you now, they're not a part of it.

Are there going to be those with more notes? Yes. Are there going to be people you're going to compare your writing to? Yes. Are you going to maybe want to pack it all in and delete your masterlist now and then? Yes.

But none of that takes away anything that makes you, you and what you bring to the table.

Life is hard enough without the added pressure of thinking you need to score imaginary internet points with stats and metrics that carry no value. I wish I knew the magic formula, because I'm still trying to figure it out myself, but let's try and be kinder to ourselves eh?

But I'm really going into 2024 with the goal of curating my own joy - whether it be indulging in the fanfics I want to write and read, more obnoxious coffees, a new fountain pen, giving myself permission to buy the fancy notebook, get back to baking or binging both seasons of Julia and pretending I can make one of her recipes.

So to sum it up, before this goes into a further incoherent ramble, this year has been about reaching out, starting connections and building something meaningful. I've met some amazing people that I am lucky to call friends and without their kindness and extending a seat at the table I'm not sure I'd still be around these parts.

Here's to more of that in 2024 - while I'm not always the best at replying to messages, my DM's and Ask's are always open, feel free to drop in at any time 💕

Pedro Tax™️ for your time...

T R U L Y  U P D A T E S . . .

December x 500 is complete-ish? Thanks to being sick towards the end of the month there's three entries missing, but I'm hoping to sneak them in during the new year! I'm looking forward to a quieter writing schedule that's for sure!

W H A T  I  R E A D . . . Didn't read as much as I wanted to this week - but I'm off this next week, so hoping to do a little more and get through some of my TBR list!

All I Want for Christmas (Frankie) by @morallyinept This was a delightful festive meet-cute that had me on the edge of my seat and also explores the character of Frankie and the ramifications of his actions on his friendships and his ex. 

All I Want (Will Miller) by @laurfilijames This was a bittersweet one-shot that touched on the idea that the festive season isn’t always for everyone and that you never know what’s going on with someone. 

I Put My Book Down to Be Here (Dieter) by @frenchiereading My first New Year’s Eve fic I’ve read this season and it’s so sweet and has a soft Dieter (my fave), who is still his chaotic self! I loved this from start to finish and such a great meet-cute!

Had Me Fooled (Dave) by @wildemaven Heidi has done such an amazing job with this mini series that can be read as a standalone or as a series. I love a soft Dave and Heidi does it so well. This last one had my toes curling in all their romantic glory and I will be revisiting this series again I'm sure!

Reunions (The Thief) by @ladamedusoif I'm behind on Rose's December prompts, but this was the steamy follow up to My Kiss, Only For You (go read that first, no seriously, go read it) and it was so delectable and my greedy self hopes we see these two again in the future.

Cookies (Tim) by @ladamedusoif Speaking of delicious things, this was as indulgent and sweet as the cookies made in this fic. Tim was one of the characters I didn't see becoming such a favourite this year - but I love seeing everyone's interpretation of him. This one here? In my top ranked versions 🫠

So here's to 2024!

Thank you for every interaction, reblog, or tag - every single one is held clutched to my heart in appreciation every time!

Stay safe, and whatever you're doing or wherever you are sending you much love!

[polizwrites]

PoliZ’s Birthday Self-Recs: Stucky

Indulging myself in the week leading up to my birthday by sharing some of my favorite fics I’ve written, grouped primarily  by pairing/relationship.   

Today I’m sharing my Stucky/WinterShield - aka James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers -- fics.  This was the first slash pairing I wrote and my second most written, with 58 Bucky/Steve works  and  28  Bucky & Steve works   (the latter of which may have other slash pairings as the primary).  Bucky/Steve is probably the closest ship to being MCU canon (at least til we got to Endgame 🙄).  I mean:  they gave us  “til the end of the line”, “ "Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. ” and  “you’re keeping the uniform, right?”   How could we NOT ship these two?   So much shared history and devotion, plus  you have your choice of pre-serum (shrimpy) Steve or  post-serum (beefy) Steve for AUs!

Here  - in reverse chronological order  by pub date - are my half-dozen favorite Stucky fics I’ve written, at least as of this moment.   If  you’d like to know why I picked these particular ones, feel free to send an ask, and if you go read them, I’d love to hear what you think, either here or as a comment on the fic!   Finally, a big shiny No Prize to anyone who identifies the songs that three of these titles came from!

Another Mile of Silence 

(Teen, canon-compliant, 14,809 words)  -- The Asset had failed its mission.  The target was not eliminated.  The target was ...   Steve.  You fought him, but he didn’t want to fight you. He fell ...   and you dove after him.  You saved him, after you damn near killed him.

It Might Be Nice, It Might Be Nice

(General, Modern No Powers AU, 1553 words) -- James is a bartender,  Steve is a customer, can I make it any more obvious?  Meet Cute fluff with three creeps getting their comeuppance.

Forging the Shield

(Explicit,  canon-compliant a/b/o AU, 21,306 words) -- James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes would have been the last person Steve Rogers (or anyone else) would have guessed to be an omega.  Tall, strong and devilishly handsome, Bucky could charm any gal he laid his eyes on.  In short, he was everything Steve himself was not. But he and Bucky had been best friends since grammar school days and had helped each other out of untold scrapes.  So when Bucky appeared at the doorstep of Steve and his ma’s apartment one night after being kicked out of the house, of course he was welcome.  Little did either of them suspect Mother Nature had another surprise for them both.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn 

(Teen, Modern No Powers supernatural AU, 1100 words)  Bucky leaves a New Year’s party and runs into a stranger with a problem;  he goes out on a limb to offer some help.

Unexpected Alliances       

(Mature, Supernatural/shapeshifting AU, 6,764 words) -- Buckthorn’s refusal to use his fae magic to support his captor’s cause has left him battered and broken; when he is given a dangerous shifter as his cellmate, they overcome their differences and become unexpected allies.

In A Room Where You Do What You Can't Confess 

(Explicit, canon-adjacent,  1,779 words) -- Bucky indulges himself in a new-to-him form of anonymous sex and he can’t help but wonder who’s on the other side of that wall.

[greyias]

Fic writers' end-of-year roundup: 2022 edition!

Tagged by @elveny -- thank you for the tag! Tagging @queen-scribbles, @keldae, @storyknitter, and anyone who wants to grab it!

I would say 2022 was a mixed year as far as productivity goes! I was actually actively writing most of the year (with pockets of "too tired" draining me every now and then), but a lot of it was on a longfic that I waited until I had finished the first draft to start posting. But I think it was successful overall, as I was able to

Words written (published or not, WIPs included!): I'm probably just going to count published, as I have been working on some WIPs in the background, but that requires more math and thinking than I have in me right now, so we'll go with a little over 43k published, although it's a bit higher with some WIPs and other behind the scenes stuff.

Smut scenes: None published this year

New things I tried: Chance Encounters, which was my big experiment in a different method outlining/prewriting for long form fic. It took me a long time to get it into finished form, but considering the massiveness of the fic and the fact that it's complete, I think is a success in itself.

Fic I spent the most time on:  Without a doubt, Chance Encounters, my little 36k novella (that for some reason I thought would only be 10k 🤷‍♀️)

Fic I spent the least time on: I think this little ficlet, that was basically me bashing out a musing/headcanon in like maybe an afternoon.

Favourite thing I wrote: Once again, almost by default of taking up most of my year Chance Encounters, although I did have a lot of fun writing it. It's rather self-indulgent, and a fun, mostly lighthearted adventure. I think runner up is the Outlander!Theron fic I've picked back up on in the past week or so, considering I keep having to tell myself "No, you can't start posting yet. You haven't proofread anything beyond maybe the first chapter. You don't even have a title"

Favourite thing I read: @storyknitter's Medieval AU, which I have adored every little entry into. So much so, I slid into her DMs to see if she could get me a compiled version to load on my Kindle for a day at jury duty that got rescheduled for 2023. I wound up re-reading the whole thing in a couple of days.

Writing goals for next year: Finish the Outlander!Theron fic, and finally exorcise that beast from my mind. I've also got some other long, lingering WIPs that I'd like to try and tackle. I'm having enough fun with this pre-writing/writing I'm doing on the Outlander!Theron fic, that I'm hoping I can bottle that energy up and use it on some of my other unfinished babies. I also really want to write more in the Chancesverse, because I love that little AU so much. Also, I want to try to find a way to write more consistently, which is more driven by my energy levels. I also have this crazy urge to try and write on some original stuff, but we'll see where that lands. If I can get a good enough handle on fic progress, maybe I can bottle a genie and spread that magic to something I can get published.

[middleagerunblog]

XXII.

Yesterday I was motivated because I have a 5K race this morning. Did my 16/8 intermittent fasting thing, only black coffee and water in the morning. Ate a relatively healthy lunch. Later, had afternoon coffee and snack that included some chocolate but whatever. Spaghetti for dinner at 6p, nothing to eat after that. Only drank black coffee and water all day, last coffee before 1p, last water before 8p.

Then I stare ahead at my training schedule, knowing that was just one day, I need to eat a lot better than I've been eating since Christmas Eve. I don't even weigh myself, what's the point? I can't take bad news before my race, I weigh in next week.

I know I want to incorporate 2 concepts that help me stay on track in terms of healthy, 16/8 intermittent fasting and no ABC (no alcohol, bread, carbs), but allow exceptions for running.

Exception to 16/8 - an apple or something weekday mid-morning if my body craves something after my pre-work run

Exception to No ABC - strategic carbs with dinner the evening before a difficult run

Exception to both - brunch type food on Saturdays after long runs

OK, that's the framework I will settle into; for the next few days though...

Allow myself some beers Dec 30 after race and Dec 31 because New Year's, then it's no alcohol from Jan 1 until the half marathon, that's almost 9 weeks (is this an isolated demand for rigor, should I pick somewhere late Jan/early Feb for some final beers?)

Do I allow myself any other treats Dec 30-31?

I shouldn't need 16/8 or No ABC exceptions Jan 1-5. I am off work Jan 1-3 and can do my workout close enough to lunch that I can hold off. Jan 4 is Thursday rest day when I'm back to work, Jan 5 is easy pace 3 miles so I should be able to hold off. This should give me the chance to kickstart some weight loss. I can start my framework, allowing some exceptions, Friday night carbs before Saturday long run, brunch on Saturday after 7 miler

Everything I have written above seems very uninteresting as I reread it, but it captures the essence of my ongoing inner monologue, constantly recounting what I've done wrong, planning for the future when I will do better, always allowing myself a buffer in the short run for a few indulgences.

[frogsandfries]

After watching a certain video on YouTube that I've probably watched before, I am once again itching to do a Midnight Sun doctor. I am confident that if this book has come out when I was in middle school or early high school (i.e when I had the time and still wrote), I would've done it already.

*wistful sigh*

*aggressively* There's so much possibility there I just wanna *aggressive hands*

Pfffft who am I kidding, I can't write much more than a couple paragraphs every couple of weeks of this abused Belle was abused story. But I did get started on the Midnight Sun thing, probably a few years ago at this point, when it first OfFiCiAlLy came out. Like, first, wasn't Edward like, rather well-to-do in 1920-whatever? So maybe he did have an incredibly boring life where maybe he was unintentionally maybe a little accidentally and unaware-ly telepathic. Like, maybe one time when he's little, he tells his mom he doesn't want coque au vine for dinner and she's a little taken aback and like asks him, why do you think we're having that for dinner, and he just shrugs and goes back to playing with his electric train.

Then when he's pre-pubescent, maybe there's a girl in his hooty-falootin' private school who has just the most bursting at the seams crush on him, but before she really knows it, Edward turns her down?

Edward should have been entering adulthood in the Great freaking Depression--there could be a whole story there!! It's the Great Depression and there's a monster on the streets--film noir!! What does this monster want?! There's gangsters and powerful men and nobodies alike and they're getting picked off, but nobody outside of their social circles knows and is willing to admit: these men going missing are the real monsters. Some of these men are--ahem--very kind and generous to families with too many children. Nobody notices when sometimes, these children are gone a little too long. Some of these men are...... well, let's just say, maybe women should know better than to be sleeping rough. Who cares that it's a Depression like nothing the world has ever seen. And some of these men...... well, their reputations are a little too clean, for the darkness in their minds, in a way only Edward would know.

Maybe at first, Edward really doesn't like Bella. As far as I can tell, the aspect of Bella being Prey to Edward is severely neglected. And that is such an unforgivable shame. But Edward spends so much time spying on her through the minds of the boys of Forks high school, sucked into their hormonal lust over the novelty of the new girl--this is one of the ways his "gift" is a burden: Where do the feelings of these mortal boy-children end, and Edward's feelings begin?--he studies her through them, but that's the closest he can get to her, since otherwise, she's also a blank to him, and for...... wow, possibly the first time in his life....... he actually has to try to get to know her. I love the idea of the push-pull of she's prey, but she's a person, but ohhhh gaahhd the smell of her, like...... like a steak, like a filet mignon, like fucking caviar, like the most refined, exquisite champagne; but I could ruin my family, this community, by indulging.

There's so stupid much potential here!!! I've just sat up for like an hour, in bed, despite once again trying to toast myself to sleep, vibrating over this stupid thing.

I was going to work on some stuff for BUFN, but my tablet was dead to death because I neglect it, and also, there was a massive bystander effect with the adhesive contest over in the discord, so I decided to slap together MCA for it, so I have to run to Michael's tomorrow and grab some black fabric paint and silver regular paint, probably. I have no fucking idea what to do for the end papers, so I'll probably just use some of my black paper for now.

I finally. Finally. Got Mirrors into the press, but I didn't get any pictures because my phone was dead. This fucker. Is fucking gargantuan. Really the maximum I should be trying to press with the screws I have. Also, sadly, the clamp that I bought barely helped get the middle of the book to press. Apparently a hundred pounds of force is not sufficient. I didn't want to break the handle.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Now March... was a bit of a weird month. 

Well, maybe not straight up weird but it was a grab bag of days and weeks.

For instance, the month started with the writing of an obituary for Kimmer’s uncle. A process that was a coupla months in the making based on conversations Kimmer had and subsequently wrote up. After which I gave it a form and a vibe.

It was, as is only appropriate, a group effort.

But then the experience of having done that got us to thinking about the state in which we ultimately leave our estate. Our house. As in, if, in the far-flung future, Linzy has to go through our house after we pass on, what kind of experience is that gonna be for her? Will we be leaving a mess she has to organize and sort? Or will it be an easy, sentimental exercise.

All of which means we’re pre-emptively cleaning and organizing everything. With the idea in mind that someday, someone’s gonna go through all of it.

So that happened.

The aftermath of Kimmer's uncle passing away also gave rise to a number of conversations with friends about parent-child role reversals as we all get older and how very much we'd love not to think about it.

But yeah. The reality's asserting itself with the care involved with Kimmer's aunt who has dementia.

☹️

Chat GPT was big news this month. And while that doesn’t specifically have anything to do with our family life, the whole AI thing came into my awareness professionally and myself and others got a whole other take on our profession through the lens of AI powered tools for post-production that seem to come in peace.

Which is a great thing.

The month of March also bore witness to the end of an era: we took down our Christmas tree after, well, let’s just say a long, long, long, long, really long time.

Basically, we put it up once upon a time... and then never took it down again.

Until March. This year.

March also brought into focus the perfect example of customer service that turned out to be Public Storage up in Lynnwood but not a whole lot of health industry admins in southern California who really should be better prepared to guide normal human beings through their system.

Unless, of course, it’s not their job to guide anyone through their system.

BOOOOOOOOO.

Linzy was once again at it this month, performing gigs at The Rustic Cork and then joining The Little Lies at APEX Art & Cultural Center in Everett for an epic set of Fleetwood Mac fan favorites. 

In the background of this gigging are rehearsals for the live debut of Midnight High, a brand-new band on the scene with an 80s vibe polished with modern technology and craft. Their first single dropped this month. A second one’ll drop in April with their full album, Avenue, to release in late summer.

Midnight High’s April debut is set a week apart from the next Little Lies performance... so busy times are gonna be afoot for our Linzy who’s also playing keys for one of the other bands performing with Midnight High.

Whew!

😁 😁 😁

March was definitely a month of intense working on the house. Remodeling. Cleaning. Organizing. Donating. Really, giving it a makeover. To the point where it's becoming the kind of place we would've loved even more back in the day.

Rachel came over last Sunday and Kimmer showed her around 'cause it's been years since Rachel'd been at the house.

She was blown away.

And yeah. It is lovely to see what we've done through other people's eyes. Plus, hanging out with her at the house, working on a bit of writing together, brought back a lot of memories which were fun to indulge.

❤️❤️❤️

And then finally.

March marked one year since Susan died. We haven’t stopped thinking about her. That is, thoughts of her come up every day because she was part of our family, part of our every day. And, at this point in our lives, we’re starting to think more on the people we lost because in the last two years, we lost not only Susan but Kimmer’s dad and uncle.

It’s kind of a down note on which to leave this month that was. The reality, though, is that we don’t experience all these things sequentially. Oh sure, against the calendar, the first thing happened first and then the second thing and so on. But our experience...

Our experience is basically everything, everywhere, all at once. 

They layer over each other, is my point. The good and the bad. The lovely and the sad. The things that create joy in our lives. And all the things we’re still pursuing.

So.

On to April!

[jadeglas]

Updates Tuesday (fics)

Heya, again!

Good news? My creativity is coming back!

Bad news? Some of my creative bad habits came back with them (story frogging - I'm incapable of focusing on only one story until it's completion for I am a story frog and must hop about from wip to wip at my whim)

So ... Let's break this down by story:

Supernatural Romance

I can't recall if I shared this last week (and I am too lazy to search for the post at the moment), but I have what I call my pre outline finished. I know what the Antagonist does in each of the 5 books of the series and I know what the generalized (as in 1 or 2 sentences) plot of each of the five books is. I'm still figuring out who is in each book and this is going slow?

Ok, remember back when I said I love fan fiction? My character creation process relies in part on other people's characters that I adore. (Not the actors that played them, when applicable, but the characters. Seriously, most of the time, the actors aren't even real to me.) I'll pick a "soul claim" and then think, ok, what would that character change if they had this backstory instead? Or this fear? Or this opportunity? I have to do this bc otherwise all my characters are vague copies of myself and each other. I only use characters I feel I know really well, but I don't always use their canon versions.

So, the first book in my series is called"Desert Wolf" for now and I know who the FMC is for this one (Hermione from Harry Potter), but I haven't fully figured out who the MMC is? (Maybe Ranger from the Stephanie Plum books?). The third one is lovingly called "Murder Bot Trash Panda" and will feature a version of Bucky Barnes as the MMC, but I'm still figuring out who the FMC will be. I'm not really sure who anyone else is yet... Also, the outlines are not really fleshed out besides this. And also-also, I had to set the novella aside for now bc my original idea doesn't fit there anymore. So, .... Yeah, I find myself avoiding these stories a lot because they feel like trying to find your way through a new friend's house in the dark. Like you know you're welcome there, but you still feel like a guest and you don't know where anything is.

Sanguine

I've only posted the first post/chapter of this on my side blog last week, and I'm planning to write alternating POVs, for the moment. Honestly, the story began as self indulgent, self insert Pitch Black fanfic, but I feel like it's firmly in my Supernatural Romance universe now. It's still for fun and self indulgence, though, so I'm not too worried with where it will fit with the other stories.

Anyone interested in this one should be aware that it will be based on a few of my fantasies, it will be spicy, and it will not depict healthy relationships or decisions. (nothing i would consider abuse, but some situations definitely in what I consider the "grey area") I'll be sure to tag as I post.

Scrawling Your Name On My Skin

This is another fic that won't feature the healthiest of relationships, but the characters will work on that as the story goes. This is a Hobbit AU fanfic that starts as a one sided Nori/Dwalin fic but will probably end up as an ot3 Dis/Nori/Dwalin. I'm not planning on anything too spicy, or at least not for a long while.

In the first fic, You're The One, Nori is the equivalent of 15 years old or so, and Dwalin is somewhere around 20 years old. There will be strong YA vibes, especially at first, and it will feature well intentioned obsession that gets called out as BS when those older and wiser realize what's happening.

Supers

This is a brand new one, as in still just vibes that I've found over the past week or so. I have some prompts that mesh well together, but i also have an older "mostly vibes" story that I could integrate with the prompts? Maybe?

The short version is that this universe has soul matches, which is someone who will majorly affect your life. Most people have only one, some will have multiple. A soul match might end up being romantic and/or sexual, but it certainly doesn't have to be. There's plenty of soul matches who can't stand each other - but each is the person who will affect the course of the life of the other one the most. Sometimes soul matches aren't reciprocated, too.

Anyways, this world also has some folks who have super powers, because why not?

The story is something along the lines of a young aspiring hero comes to the Big City to find a job and join the Hero's League, but ends up being the soul match of the most powerful (but not necessarily most well known) villain of the city. Hijinks ensue.

I have absolutely nothing written on this yet, but it's fun to play with the ideas.

Old Hobbit Retelling & Old Pitch Black Cross over

That's not what they're called, but that's what I'm calling them here, for now. These are two old fanfics, each of them sizable. I wrote them under a different handle, one of them was only posted in AO3, but the other was posted on here and AO3.

I've been feeling the urge to write on these, too, but... I'm not sure I could simply pick up where I left off? Like, I feel like I'd need to go back and potentialy rewrite the stories, which wouldn't be bad, but the Hobbit Retelling I'm thinking of changing up so I can treat it like original fic (which, there's enough that's different that once I change the names of people and places it won't be a problem), but it's HUGE and ... I don't know if I should?

They're both familiar and comfortable, but I don't know if I should go back to them.

I might just have to hold that thought in my head for a while until I figure out what to do with it.

And... Yeah, that about sums it up. Lots of ideas, not much progress this week. But now you know who all has been living rent free in my head, right?

Another progress report next week, hopefully with more progress!

If you're interested in reading anything I've got posted so far, THIS is the link to the master post on my fics sideblog, which I will keep updated as I continue to post.

Questions and comments welcome. I'll post again tomorrow, but you take care of yourself until then, ok?

(also, sorry for the weird song placement, i do most posting on my phone and my gremlin makes sure to keep the process interesting for me)

[llocalgoblinn]

WhAT A WHIRLWIND FEW WEEKS

okay let me see if i can try and condense to the highlights, LOL

1. went to london and paris and it was fucking amazing. i needed a vacation SO bad and it was so great to travel for the first time since pre-covid. i got to have lots of amazing conversations with my aunt, and see my granddad, and wander around taking photos and doing whatever i wanted. i ate well, i got a new tattoo, i indulged myself and my joy, and celebrated my life and my independence, and all of the growth i’ve done in the past year. 

2. i also met a guy and we are going on a date tuesday! it’s my first in a LONG time, and i’m excited and nervous. i like that he has accepted me for who i am and where i’m at so far, is a little bit weird, and also seems just as nervous and out of practice as i am. 

3. i did a ton of writing on the plane and am feeling for the first time in a while like i have direction in life. i know what i want out of the next ten years. i want to write this story, and learn to tattoo, and think about moving somewhere new and crazy and interesting (maybe paris!)

anyways. very thrilled to be turning 30 this week. i think it is going to be one of my best years so far.

[world-of-aus]

Hearts and Crafts

Pairing; Elementary Teacher!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

Warnings; Fluff

Word Count; 5,468

A/n: As a teacher myself this was really a self-indulgent fic, I’m always hoping to find my very own Bucky at work, but alas through fics it will have to do, happy pre-valentines day sweet babes!

All Other Works Can Be Found In My Masterlist In My Bio, For Updates You Can Follow @worldofausupdates​ stay updated!

Monday mornings; the start of a new week, a new day to teach the young minds that had been placed under your care.  

You started your Monday's the way you always did, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and a sweet bread that you had managed to swipe from the teachers' lounge down your hall in the other. You hummed under your breath as you entered your room – door pushed open courtesy of the custodial staff. You go for the windows first, opening up the blinds to let the rising morning sun filter in. It was important to you to start with a refreshed room, one that invited and welcomed your students in.  

Moving over to your desk you placed your cup and napkinned sweet bread down, you’d be able to get to it once all your students had managed to filter in, their own breakfast sat in front of them. While you waited you moved over to the SMART Board switching on the screen to sign in and pull up the lessons for today. Another important step in your day, you wanted your students in on your plans, you wanted them aware of today’s lesson, and the valentine’s activity that you and your neighboring teachers had put together last Friday.

You had managed to mention it to them when lining them up at the end of the day, and they had been as excited as you had expected upon letting them in on the news. Like you, your students looked forward to the holidays, they looked forward to the activity’s and treats you would put together for them on the special days that rolled around during the school year.  

“Why am I not surprised to see you at your board at this point, you’re there every morning, and you’ll likely be there come the end of the day.”

A smile pulled at your lips as you turned your head to your open door, “Good morning to you too Natasha,” you greet making your way over to the highlighted blonde, “you know I like to be prepared before the kids come in, I don’t want them thinking I don’t have a reign on things, those children can smell fear you know,” you laugh as she moves aside to let you step out into the hall.

“You think that’s why Dot has to pop into Barnes’ room midday,” she questions.

“Please,” you laugh, “Dolores at this point looks for any reason to pop into his room, and if she’s not careful, her observation mid-year isn’t going to look too good if she keeps letting her kids control the classroom.”

“And that is why I've nominated you for teacher of the year,” you hear from down the hall. You're turning to see Wanda, bright smiled and hands laden with valentine’s crafts, you move over to her without hesitation, grabbing half the items from her hold.

“And this,” you mention to the crafts in your possession, “is the reason I nominated you for teacher of the year, the kids love you Wands, you’ve got them wrapped so tightly around your finger.”

“If they’re not giving both of you the golden apple come the end of the year, you know they’ve made a grave mistake,” Natasha mentions as she sidles up to the two of you, lightening the load of crafts further. “This going in your room,” she questions Wanda, Wanda’s nodding as she leads the two of you to her class that sits across the hall from yours. “Actually,” she stops, “y/n do you think you can take that half over to Bucky, we’re sharing the same activity, and I had offered to buy the supplies.”

“Really Wands,” you question immediately catching on to her act, “if you knew half of these items were meant to go to Bucky’s classroom why didn’t you ask him to meet you at your car?”

“Aside from Dolores – though our intentions are different I'm always bothering the poor man,” Wanda argues, “I wasn't going to make him walk all the way back to the parking lot, he has the same arrival time as you, that would have just been cruel of me to make him do so.”

You almost roll your eyes, almost, “and Wilson,” you inquire, “I know him and Steve are in the fifth-grade hall but surely he would have helped you bring the things in, besides him and Steve always have their morning coffee with him.”

A smirk pulls at Natasha’s lips, one that mirrors the one that pulls at Wanda’s mouth, “see,” the brunette responds, “you’ve been to his classroom enough times in the mornings to know he has coffee with Steve and Sam – please y/n I'm sure he would be pleased to see you this fine morning.”

“Have to agree with Wanda here,” Natasha joins in, “I’m sure he would be delighted to see you unless you plan on stopping by midafternoon to surprise his students as well.”

Heat floods your cheeks at the lighthearted teasing, “don’t you have a sister to go visit,” you question hoping to throw them off, and that earns you a laugh from the girls, “Yelena lives with me y/n I'm sure she can bear a few moments away from me,” Natasha responds.

“So will you take them,” Wanda questions redirecting the conversation back, “listen, if it’s too much I'm sure I could ask Dolores – give her an actual reason aside from her disorderly instruction to go into his classroom.”

“Really wands, as if her visits throughout the day aren’t enough,” you mutter, “are these all the things or do they need to be evenly split,” you question finalizing the choice to go and drop off the items yourself.

Wanda beams, “you can take what you have there and just let him know if he needs more, he can come by my classroom throughout the day.”

A smile tugs at your lips, “so whenever Dolores decides to pop-in I should direct him this way,” you question feet already moving in the direction of Bucky’s classroom.

“Or you could direct him to yours,” Wanda responds a glint in her eyes when your gaze meets, he over your shoulder, “I don’t mind leaving what I know I won’t be using in your class, and I'm sure Bucky wouldn’t mind either, don’t you agree Nat,” she smirks looking at the blonde.

You're shaking your head at the laughing pair before you’re glancing away to move further down the hall towards Bucky’s classroom.

When you reach the threshold of his classroom you find that the door is only slightly cracked open, the voices of the men in question meeting your ear. A smile pulls at your lips as you adjust the purchased crafts in your hold, reaching out with a hand to give a swift three knocks before you’re letting yourself in.

“There she is,” you hear Sam, greet, “was wondering if I'd get to see you before Rogers and I had to head back to our hall.”

Your smile pulls wider, as you look at the man in question, “you know you could have just dropped by my room Sam, it’s literally on your way out,” you greet in return letting Steve who was the closest to the door grab the crafts from your hold.

“Sam just likes to know that you’re looking for him,” Bucky chimes in catching your gaze, bright pink smile kissing his lips, “thank you for bringing these by for me by the way,” he gestures to the craft Steve deposits on his desk, “had offered Wanda to meet her at the car, but she said there was no need, she’d bring them my way.”

You’re shaking your head, smile breaking, as you remember the conversation you had with Wanda and Nat just minutes ago.

“Well, you know how Maximoff can be she -”

“Oh James, I’m so glad I’ve caught you,” a voice cuts you off, a head of auburn hair gliding past you, “I know it might be a long shot, but do you think your keys will open my door, I seemed to have forgotten mine,” Dolores giggles stealing away Buckys attention.

Three pairs of eyes look at the head of auburn hair that stands at Bucky’s side, “and you didn’t think to find a custodian,” Sam questions brow raised. Dolores can’t be bothered to tear her gaze away from Bucky as she waits, “I couldn’t find one this morning when I came in, and with kids already making their way in I didn’t want to waste any more time waiting for a custodian to pop up.”

You can’t help the subtle shake of your head as you turn to Steve, “will you let Bucky know that Wanda should have more supplies in her classroom should he run out, I'd tell him myself but,” you tilt your head over to the two in conversation.

Steve offers you a small smile, “as if she won’t drop by his room three more times throughout the day,” he mutters, “can Sam and I walk you, I think our conversation with Buck here is done for now.”

A small smile pulls at you lips, “I’d like that actually feel like I don’t see enough of the two of you,” you tease knowing that it is in fact the complete opposite.

Steve draws closer to you looking over his shoulder, “c’mon Wilson we’re heading out, Barnes here is gonna be busy helping Dolores open her door, and the kids are gonna start coming in soon.”

Sam’s reigniting the smile on your lips with a shake of his head, “all I'm hearing is more time with my favorite teacher, we’ll see you around Barnes – Dolores,” he adds well after having turned on his heel to make his way over to the two of you.

“Wilson play nice,” you laugh quietly as he joins you and Steve, he throws an arm over you, the other finding Steve’s back, “Never once played nice when the game ain’t fair, surely ain’t gonna start now,” he answers guiding the two of you out of the room.

“You know,” you murmur as you exit out into the hall, “if he hasn’t caught onto it now, he’s likely not wanting to catch it at all, don’t you think you all should stop pushing it, someone’s gonna come out hurt.”

“Buck doesn’t know how to say no,” Steve answers as they walk you to your class, the sound of sneakers skidding across linoleum flooring meeting your ears as you see the first wave of kids scuddle in, “he doesn’t want to come off mean.”

“Besides,” Sam adds, “we wouldn’t be ‘pushing’ it if it weren’t the case.”

You remove yourself from his hold squeezing his side as you take your spot at your door, “I just don’t want to get my hopes up on something that may not be there is all.”

Steve leans forward to squeeze your arm, “like sam said we wouldn’t be ‘pushing’ for it if that were the case.”

“I know you all mean well, but drop it for a few days will you?”

The two are nodding their head at you, “well we better get going, you still down to go to the bar and grill with us tonight pre-valentine celebration?”

A smile pulls at your lips, “after the day we’re about to have you know you can count me in, regular group,” you question.

“You know it,” Steve answers for you, “so we’ll see you there?”

“Count me in,” you grin, “I'll see you two at recess,” you add as your first student runs for your legs.

“It seems Buck isn’t the only one in love,” Sam teases, and you're waving him off laughter bubbling past your lips as you dismiss them, “Bye Mr. Wilson, Mr. Rogers.”

They’re sending you one final wave to you before there descending down the hall, your hands guiding your first of thirty students into the classroom

“Macy, sweetie that’s way too much glue here -”

“Arthur the top needs to stay on the red glitter -”

“Oh, how wonderful Mathilda, your mother is going to love your valentine cat – oh it’s a dog, even more wonderful!”

“James, Steven please do not throw construction paper at each other it’s not to play with, Samuel I just said -”

“Miss y/l/n there’s someone knocking at the door,” you heard above the chaos that was your classroom during craft time.

You let out a breath as you stopped everything altogether your hand going up, the room growing quiet instantly, tiny hands shooting to the air as they all looked to you. You gave them all a kind smile, “boys and girls we have a visitor, I need you all to resume your crafts nicely and quietly,” you looked down to the three boys, “can we do that,” you questioned them, “can we continue our crafts nicely and quietly while I get the door?”

You receive the same response from the three, “wonderful now continue the crafts and please no more construction paper balls flying around the room.”

With that your turning on your heel making your way to your door, opening it without a second thought to peer out the small window beforehand. Your met with quite the surprise when you open the door to find Bucky and his class of 15.

“Mr. Barnes,” you greet warmly, “to what do I owe the pleasure,” you question taking notice of the crafts in his students' hands.

He leans in close voice lowered as he speaks, “Dolores has already managed to walk into my class three times today and its not even noon, my students are starting to become distracted, and frankly so am I, is it possible to merge classes for the next hour, we,” he stresses, “need a break.”

You look back to your classroom, brain scrambling as you look at your layout and how you could possibly accommodate a class of 15. “Oh please Miss y/l/n, we’ll be good we promise, we just want to work on our crafts – please,” you hear and that has your attention drawing back to Bucky and his students that stand just outside of your room.

“Of course, you can come in,” you smile, “do some of you mind working on the carpet, I don’t have too many chairs available.”

The class of 15 squeals behind their teacher and out of habit your finger comes to your lips a smile barely hidden behind it. “Quiet now we don’t want Miss Dolores finding you now do we,” you question brow raised.

The students fall into another fit of giggles this time the noise hidden behind their hands, “alright then, let’s get you inside, but make sure you do so quietly,” you add as you move to the side pulling the door open wider for them. They follow you inside, your class immediately intrigued by the influx of students following behind you.

“Class, Mr. Barnes and his students will be joining us for crafts this morning - now this does not mean we get loud,” you warn, “I expect you all to continue working quietly, remember be the star class I know you to be, do we understand?”

Your students are nodding in agreement, your eyes then fall to the mischievous three, “Steven, James, Samuel, I expect you three to be on your best behavior while Mr. Barnes is here, do you understand, should I need to come to your table there will be no recess.”

At the mention of no recess their eyes go wide, a promise to be on their best behavior leaving their lips, “wonderful,” you smile, “now let’s all get back to work while we settle the other class in.”

“Thank you for allowing us to come in,” Bucky whispers minutes in to having settled his classroom on your large square carpet, their tiny bodies sprawled all across it as they color furiously. “I wasn’t sure who else to ask and with Wanda’s group being out at the library I wasn’t sure who would be as welcoming next to you.”

Your eyes find his briefly, a warm smile pulling at your lips, as you look around your room “you know you and your class always have a place here with us, my students enjoy the company as much as I do,” you answer eyes flitting back to his.

There's something there, hidden in those cerulean eyes, something you want to question but your attention is being averted to a little blonde girl that lays on your carpeted floor. You don’t hesitate to move towards her as she calls your name again, lowering your body as you level yourself to her.

“Look what I drew,” she beams, shoving the paper in your face, you laugh as you lean back taking a better look at the two triangular figure holding hands in a heart, with a few tinier triangular figures surrounding them. “And what a wonderful drawing this is,” you encourage feeling a presence drop down next to you, “oh wow amazing, is that your mom and dad,” Bucky questions as the two of you look at Amelia’s drawing.

She giggles, “No Mr. Barnes, it's you and Miss y/l/n, see,” she stresses tiny finger pointing at the triangular figures holding hands in the heart, “and that’s all of us,” she adds pointing to the other figures.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as Bucky’s eyes find yours, both of you seemingly lost for words, “isn’t it pretty,” Amelia questions pulling your gazes from one another, you manage to pull a smile, “it’s absolutely wonderful little miss Amelia.”

You’d think it impossible for a child's smile to grow but Amelia manages to surprise you further, “You see Mr. Barnes I told you she would love it, now all you need to do is ask her,” she beams looking at her teacher, who has seemingly gone tense under her bright gaze.

“Ask me,” you question your own heart racing in your chest, beating like a wild drum in your ears.

“Amelia,” Bucky tries, but the small girl is quicker, “yeah Miss y/l/n, Mr. Barnes is always saying how you’re so kind and wonderful and that he likes you,” you turn your head to Bucky.

“A - as a friend Amelia - I meant it as a friend,” he says through a choked laugh eyes finding yours, “nuh-uh,” another student perks up drawing your attention back to the group, “we see how you look at Miss y/l/n at recess and Mr. Wilson looks at Miss Maximoff like that and you said they like like each other!”

“You know Mr. Barnes,” another shoots up, “you always tell us it’s not nice to lie, is it because you’re a grown up that it’s okay – wait does that mean my mom and dad lie to me too?”

Seemingly red in the face Bucky tries to settle his class, “Boys and girls it seems we’ve strayed a little far from our crafts, how about we settle down and get back to it, look at Miss y/l/n’s class how well behaved they are.”

“Are you going to ask our teacher to be your valentines,” Samuel pipes up, your head moves in their direction, “she wouldn’t say no,” Steven adds, “Yeah she’d totally say yes,” James agrees, “I heard her tell Miss Maximoff at pick-up that you had really nice hair and an even nicer smile – my mom likes my dad’s hair even though he’s bald, and she also likes his smile – they're married – wait are you and Miss y/l/n going to get married?”

“Boys,” you nearly screech, “that is not a question to be asking, what did I say about being on our best behavior?” “But miss,” they whine, “we weren’t misbehaving we were just asking a question!”

“Yeah, Miss y/l/n they were just asking a question,” Amelia defends bringing you back to their group, “Mr. Barnes do you have a question to ask Miss y/l/n,” she adds almost innocently bringing your attention back to the elephant in the room.

Your gaze is moving back over to Bucky once more, the burly man seemingly frozen under the fire of scrutiny the two of you just received.

“Mr. Barnes,” you find yourself breathing, because it couldn’t be true could it, did your group of friends really have good reason to ‘push’ it?

His eyes find yours, “d-do you have a question for me,” you add, his lip's part, tongue peeking out to run over his lip, “I -”

Three swift knocks draw your attention away from one another as you look to your door, principal Fury burning into the room. The two of you stand almost immediately, “Miss y/l/n, Mr. Barnes,” he greets lips set in a thin line. His eyes flit around your classroom, “I’m sorry to have disrupted your crafting, but if you don’t mind, I'd like to speak to the two of you in private before we dismiss for lunch.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, Principal Fury never had reason to step into your room unless it was for observation. You look to Bucky then to your class, “Boys and Girls,” you clear your throat, “Mr. Barnes and I are going to step outside for a brief moment, the door will be open so I expect you all to continue working, should I have to step back in there will be no recess for you after lunch is that understood?”

“Same goes for my class as well, do we understand,” Bucky adds looking down at his kids.

“It should take no more than five minutes,” Fury adds.

“Right,” you nod, “Mr. Barnes after you.”

Bucky takes lead as he follows Fury out of your room, your feet carrying you after him.

As if the worry that had settled in your chest wasn’t enough to suffocate you, finding Dolores out in the hall arms crossed had been enough to all but stop your breathing.

It was quiet in your room, the afternoon passing all the slower without the feeling of the fall sun kissing your skin, the sound of delightful screaming meeting your ears. It was now forlorn stares, quieted sighs, and the ever-soft murmur of apologies from your students to his.

“Miss y/l/n you can relax,” Fury directs to you, “in no way are you and Mr. Barnes here in any trouble, though I can’t find myself to say the same about Miss Dolores.”  

Dolores glares, “see it has been brought to my attention that Miss Dolores here has been leaving her classroom unattended for most of the morning looking for Mr. Barnes, it was also mentioned that this isn’t her first offense.”

“I don’t know who mentioned this to you,” Dolores grumbles, “but I can assure you that it’s not the case.”

Fury looks to Dolores brow raised, “there are cameras in the halls, and in your classroom, I can assure you that it is infact the case, do you know the possible harm that could come from you leaving your students alone, the trouble that we could get into should something happen to them because you were careless?

“I had only been looking for Mr. Barnes to help settle my class, my students adore him,” she tries to defend.

“To help settle your class,” he questions, “when we hired you though we were sold on the fact that you were going to perform great classroom management, did that fly out the window when Barnes was hired or did you just lie good enough to get yourself hired.”

“Principal Fury,” she all but gasps.

“I’d like you packed by the end of the day,”

“But," Dolores tries, though she stops at the stern looks she’s sent, “you can go pack your things and I'll come escort you out when you're finished.”

Both you and Bucky are frozen in shock as you watch the events unfold, Dolores turning on her heel as she scuffles down the hall to her room.”

“Miss y/l/n,” Amelia all but whimpers from her spot on the carpet, “did we get Mr. Barnes in trouble, is he not going to be our teacher no more?”

“We didn’t mean to,” another adds in, “Mr. Barnes is the nicest teacher we’ve ever had and he deserves to be happy, and you – you make him happy; he’s always telling Mr. Wilson and Mr. Rogers during recess how much he likes you; we were just trying to help.”

Your caught by surprise, heart racing in your chest as Sam’s and Steve’s words ring in your mind ‘we wouldn’t be pushing it if wasn’t the case.’

“I really don’t want Mr. Barnes to be in trouble,” Amelia whimpers, and it's at the first sign of a wobbly lip that you push any thoughts or feelings you have for Bucky aside and focus on the students in front of you.

You manage to gather all the kids on the carpet, quieting them down as you try and explain to them that Mr. Barnes is only taking care of another teacher's kids while Principal Fury figures out a way to spilt evenly the twenty kids that now need a teacher mid-year.

“So, Mr. Barnes is still our teacher?”

You're nodding your head, hand rubbing Amelias back comfortingly, “he absolutely is, but right now the other students needed him a little more because of how amazing of a teacher he is to you all” you answer, “but come next week you’ll be back with him in your classroom along with some new faces.”

“Miss y/l/n,” Steven chirps up, “so does that make you an amazing teacher too since your taking care of Mr. Barnes class?”

A small smile pulls at your lips, “well I guess it does, doesn’t it?”

A chorus of agreements flit around the carpet, Amelia curling into your side, “Miss y/l/n, will you make sure he gets my drawing afterschool, he promised he would put it on his cabinet, I really want him to have it.”

You squeeze the little girl, “absolutely Amelia,” you glance at the clock above your door the seconds ticking as the time to line your students up for pick-up begins to roll around.

“Alright boys and girls, it's almost time for us to go so why don’t we all begin to pick up our things and put them away.”

The students go without fuss, as they move around your room; as you watch them go your glad principal fury had let Bucky’s students grab their things from their class after lunch, it definitely gave you insight to the amount of hooks you’d need to be adding to your classroom walls for the newer students you’d be getting next week. As the last few minutes tick away the kids help you clean your classroom up, the crafts they put together for valentine's day in their hands as you line them up.

You're doing one final sweep through before meeting the students at the door. They look just about as eager as you feel to be released, “well boys and girls I had a wonderful Friday with all of you, remember to give your loved ones your special valentines craft when you get home, does everyone have their things?”

Heads are nodding down the line, a smile pulling at your face, “wonderful, now remember we are to walk in a quiet straight line, as we make our way out of the building, I do not want to have to send us back to start over, understood?”

A herd of, “yes mam,” is heard around your room, “Alright then let’s head out and start our weekend.”

Student pick-up is always a flurry, kids much like their parents are in a rush to go home and start their weekends. From the time you get them all rounded up in the court to the sound of the first student being called up there's very little downtime between the farewells you and the other teachers on duty are giving out.

For thirty minutes you're seeing your eager students off with a warm promise to see them come Monday. The court always empties out fairly quickly on Friday afternoons and there’s only a handful of students left as the last of the cars roll in. Sweet Amelia is among those left, her hand in yours as she stands on her toes to see if she can spot her car.

“I’m sure they’re in the line,” you reassure, “you’ll see they’ll be -” and before you can finish her sentence her name is being called out a squeal of excitement bubbling past her lips as she pulls you along.

You go with a laugh, letting her tug you along to her car, you never mind helping load the last of the students in their vehicles. It's when Amelia is strapped in that a gasp of realization is leaving her lips, “Oh Miss y/l/n please don’t forget to give Mr. Barnes my card, I really want him to have it.”

A smile pulls at your lips, “Of course sweetie, before I leave for the day, I'll make sure to take it by his room.”

Amelia holds a pinky out to you, “promise,” she questions, your fingers hook with hers, “I promise.”

You’re sending Amelia off with a final wave, the court now empty as the final kid loads their car, you're sending the crossing guard a final wave before your making your way in the halls now empty as the teachers scurry into their rooms to pack up and begin there weekend as well.

Your phone buzzes in the pocket of your cardigan, your fingers reaching for the device as you continue to make your way down the hall. A message from the group text waits for you as you near your door, ‘see you all at the bar and grill tonight, don’t forget your plus one (;’

A smile pulls at your lips as you read the text walking into your room, remembering what Bucky’s students had shared with you your fingers type away, ‘did you finally tell Miss Maximoff that you like like her ;p?’

Bubbles appear at the bottom, likely Sam conjuring up a smart reply as you set your phone down to gather your things. You were grateful to have cleaned up beforehand the only things that needed to be grabbed were your bag, and the card that Amelia had left for Bucky.

Your phone vibrates on the desk but you decide you’ll check the response on your way out after taking Bucky the card. You grab the valentine craft from your desk turning on your heel only to be met by Bucky himself at your door.

A smile pulls at your lips, “Hey Buck, was just going to you, Amelia drew up another card for you insisted I give it to you before I left for the day,” you say as you move towards him. He thanks you with a smile as he takes the card, he looks at it opening it briefly. His eyes are finding yours again as he passes you the card, you look at him in question, “Buck, that’s yours, Amelia made it for you,” you chuckle.

He licks his lips, “I'm pretty sure that’s meant for you,” he answers. Your brows furrow but you take the card back nonetheless, you look at the front a single pink heart on it, a smile pulls at your lips as you open it a red blob with a green top in the middle of scribbly lettering.

‘i luv you from my hart to my toez wil u bee my valemtine?’  

p.s. the toemaytoe is Mr. Barnes.  

The grin spreading your lips hurts your cheeks as you look up at Bucky a smile of his own kissing his lips, “Do you really look at me the way that Sam looks at Wanda?”

Bucky chuckles as he steps forward closing the space between you, “that really the question you want answered?”

Your breath is caught in your chest, barely a foot of space left between the two of you, “Well I'm pretty sure Amelia here helped ask your question – so yes, that is the question I want answered.”

Bucky’s hand find’s your cheek, thumb smoothing the skin there “you promise to still like me when I go bald?” You're laughing then hands finding the lapels of his cardigan as you pull him close, his warm breath fanning over your lips, “I’ll love you from your head to your toes,” you murmur before your pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss.

[serendipitous-magic]

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

_-_

5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

_-_

6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

_-_

7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

_-_

8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

_-_

9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

_-_

10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

_-_

13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 

It also informs character behavior and personality. 

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

[deliberate-movement]

I haven’t updated this blog in awhile so here are some updates!  - I finally have a name for my back condition! Upon doing some research and putting together something a chiropractor told me after doing a few x-rays I discovered my issue has a name: Bertolotti Syndrome. It’s where the transverse process in the final vertebrae is fused to the sacrum! It was a huge relief to know not only that it had a name but that I wasn’t alone (and that the misdiagnosis of sciatic nerve entrapment/lumbar disc herniation--which i received--is a super common one in patients with this condition, which is congenital). It means I know what causes my pain (inflammation and a rubbing of those bones together, which produces a pain similar to arthritis) and that reduces a lot of the fear and stress, which helps the pain!

- In the past 2 years I’ve started walking regularly. Winter has slowed me down these last few weeks but I try to go at least 3.5 miles every weekend. On weeks I’m not in class I go 2-3 miles about 4-5 times a week. 

- I no longer use a cane to walk at all

- I have a new doctor (my previous doctor retired) and he has helped me move from Percocet to Tramadol (at my request). I’m hoping not to need that eventually as well. 

More behind the cut (weight loss mention)

- I have gone from 376 lbs to 287.6 (as of this morning) which is a loss of 88.4lbs. 

- I have stopped eating fast food regularly (I indulge about once a week, down from 2-3 meals per day), so my stomach issues have gotten a lot better! I think I have gallstones but the foods I’m eating now are far less triggering for them at least. 

- I’m learning to cook! Now I can make chicken and fish for myself. (In fact I recently discovered if I marinate my chicken breast in dill pickle juice for about 2 hours then bake them seasoned with dill and dried mustard they become the food of the gods, omg)

- I’ve been making food for my roommate too, whee! 

- Because of my weight loss and pain reduction I can stand for long periods in the kitchen doing food prep, so on Sundays I hang out in the kitchen for a few hours, listening to youtube, cooking chicken and fish and venison, steaming veggies, and labeling it all for the upcoming week! It’s become my ‘me time’ and the kitchen is my zone. I even enjoy doing dishes now! For Christmas I got a great gift: an apron that says “Easily distracted by airplanes!”  - I can do my own laundry! 

- My blood pressure has dropped from 145/90 to 120/75. I’m no longer pre-hypertensive!

Things are really good and I’m happy about the changes I’ve been slowly making over the last couple years. I feel like I’m getting pieces of my life back as my mobility increases and pain decreases. It’s been incredible! I can’t wait to see how I do in the coming year as I continue to work with myself on movement and weight loss. 

[kueble]

Canon Era Geraskier Masterpost

This is my masterpost for my Canon Era Geraskier fics. Listed in the order posted to Tumblr.

Distraction - Prompt: kisses meant to distract 

Tiny Flurries - First snow of the season.

Snowdrops - Prompt: You get flowers tattoos where your soulmate have scars.

Secret is to Sing a Little Song - Jaskier’s first winter at Kaer Morhen is a little hectic, but he figures things out.

Wide Awake - 18+ Geralt can’t sleep.

All Dolled Up - 18+ Jaskier wears lingerie and Geralt really likes it.

Not Good With Words - obligatory post-mountain apology

Ask Him - Geralt hates autumn.

Worn Leather - 18+ Geralt acts up and Jaskier has to remind him who is in charge. Also, fun with a belt.

Bit of a Mess - Jaskier helps Geralt deal with a new scar.

Perfect Pair -  Jaskier is hurt on a hunt, and Geralt thinks this is how he loses him.  

The White Stallion - 18+ Jaskier and centaur Geralt getting together.

Like Vines, We Intertwined - 18+ Geraskier with a side of leshen. (Geralt/Jaskier/Leshen)

A Rush of Copper - 18+ Vampire!Jaskier lets himself go too long without feeding.

Pretty Things - 18+ Dragon!Geralt and thief!Jaskier.

How You Want - 18+ Geralt thinks he’s broken, but Jaskier doesn’t agree.

Far Too Long - Winter has been far too long.

Mint and Celandine - Jaskier has issues with his new scar.

Mating Season -   18+, Geralt usually spends mating season alone, but this year he has Jaskier to help.

Indulgent - 18+, Jaskier books an afternoon at the private baths in the hopes that he can convince Geralt to transform for him.

When I Let the Water Take Me - Jaskier has a secret.

I Wanna Live Life From a New Perspective - 18+ Bodyswap get together.

Overpowering - 18+ Jaskier has a wet dream and Geralt catches it.

Beg For It - 18+ dom/sub, Jaskier knows Geralt can beg for it.

Gone Soft - 18+, Jaskier really likes Geralt’s winter body.

No Matter How Lovely - 18+ Geralt isn’t sure why he doesn’t leave the pixie somewhere.

It’s a Hungry World - 18+ My Big Bang. My beloved. Fae!Jaskier falls in love with the human world, and a witcher along the way.

The Latest Fashion -  18+ Jaskier is all riled up after a performance, and Geralt is more than happy to help.

It Tasted Heavenly, So Good - 18+ Geraskier/leshen. Geralt and Jaskier find the leshen from last time.

Such a Mess - 18+ Jaskier fucks his pregnant mate.

Covered in My Marks - 18+ Geralt gets possessive in a good way.

Worn Out - Geralt is tired.

Desperate and Willing - 18+ Jaskier really needs to piss.

A Little More - 18+ Mer!Jaskier needs to mate and Geralt is very willing.

Catch Me If You Can - The boys going swimming.

Truly, Utterly Horrible - 18+ Lambert spills some secrets, and Jaskier benefits.

Calm - Jaskier goes into pre-heat and is surprised by how helpful Geralt is.

Toss a Coin to Your Bard - 18+ Jaskier finds a way to earn coin.

Relaxed and Pliable - 18+ Geralt fucks Jaskier while he sleeps.

Pleasantly sore - 18+ - Jaskier is in post-sex bliss while laying on his werewolf.

Sweet on the Vine (Like Strawberry Wine) - Jaskier drags Geralt to a Strawberry Festival.

Geralt x Dandelion (game):

Clandestine - Geralt has an offer for Dandelion.

Lost Myself in You - 18+ Geralt simply can’t wait.

Geralt x Dandelion (book):

Frayed - 18+, Geralt gets a little tied up.

Geralt & Jaskier:

Mending the Rift - (Aro week QPR) Jaskier comes home to a grumpy friend and fixes it.

[sweating30s]

Day 12

Sunday morning. I slept in and lounged around. I finally got up and walked down to the nearby creek around 9:30. That summer humidity is already creeping in. I'll have to make sure weekend walks are done early or late at night. I just walked to get my steps in. My health coach wants me to aim for 7,000 a day now today I was at 10,700 steps. On the way backed I picked up an iced americano.

I came home and wasn't really ready for a meal, so I had half a chocolate bar. Even a few months ago, I would have demolished the whole thing and still been craving more. I enjoyed it and went on with my day. I know that to be able to stay on track treats and indulgences worked into my day are a must, otherwise I feel deprived, which leads to binging and not giving a frick. I later made brunch I guess. I tracked it as breakfast.

I did my Jillian Michaels in the afternoon. Cardio again. It wasn't that bad but 2:30 pm is much different from 5:30 am. I am on my last 3 days of week 2 and then I get two new strength workouts. I'm nervous, but worse comes to worst, I will just redo weeks 1 and 2. If I stay on schedule of 6 days a week and 1 rest day with this, I should finish about a week before my trip. At that point, I plan on evaluating if I do another round of Body Revolution or move on to Bodyshred.

My plan is to keep working out in the mornings on my trip and trying not to lose momentum with exercise and allow myself to be more flexible in the eating. I'm hoping I don't go crazy and binge out. I'm hoping to savor the treats and taste everything rather than finish everything.

I had been lazy for the past almost year of cooking. I'm trying to start again. Tonight I made myself a huge veggie filled rice bowl with my favorite gochujang (Korean red pepper paste) tahini dressing I make. I have a container of it for this week's lunches and dinners.

Tomorrow starts another busy week at work, but one full week and then a 3 day week for public holiday. It's been 2 months since we had any extra time off and I for one am in need of a long weekend.

88 days to my trip

Pre-workout: protein bar

Post-workout: Iced Americano, Half an m&m crispy chocolate bar

Brunch: blueberry green tea, 3 slices of toast grilled in butter, 3 fried eggs

Dinner: Sweet potato and chicken veggie rice bowl with gochujang tahini dressing

Snacks: string cheese, sour patch watermelon

Totals: 2,019 Daily Goal : 2,808

Water: 4 liters

SW: 128 kg (282 lbs)

CW: 124.8 kg (275 lbs)

Loss: .5 kg (1 lbs)

Total loss: 3.2 kg (7 lbs)

GW: 120 kg (264 lbs)

UGW: 75 kg (165 lbs)