#plspls i’m stuck

[ghostarii]

[hannie-dul-set]

모기 / MOGI — [c.bg].

SYNOPSIS. in which all of your life, you and beomgyu have been stuck together like glue whether you liked it or not. and as much as you want to change that, life seems to have different plans.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment), romance, humor, very light-barely there angst, pining idiots, college! au with flashes to high school, featuring an ensemble of 01z idols. WARNINGS. swearing, many many (fake) death threats, so much secondhand embarrassment, mentions of sex, mentions of blood and gore, the worldly problems of a teenager, mc has anger issues, gossip. WORD COUNT. 14k.

TAGLIST. @matcha-binz @bgomtori @lotties-posts @bearbeom @bbinwrld @beomies-world @baekberrie @20-cms @jenodreamer

NOTE. it is here! alternatively titled: all the reasons you don't like choi beomgyu (but maybe you do). this is just a v quick v fun read (i hope HAHHAHA). parts in past tense and within parenthesis are set in the past! hope you enjoy mosquito gyu and please let me know what you think! begging for crumbs of feedback plspls.

YOU DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. He’s been a thorn in your side for as long as you can remember— a far too nimble mosquito for you to catch and swat away, constantly buzzing around your ears like a mild annoyance. Mild, but annoying all the same.

The problem is, you can’t get rid of him. Not when both your families have been friends before either of you were even born. Not when you’ve been half-living in his house for the better part of your life and he’s been half-living in yours. Not when you’ve always been magically assigned to the same class for twelve god damned years and somehow, you’re now even set out to go to the same university.

It’s like the world just wants to stick the both of you together.

“Hey, fuckface.”

“What do you want, dipshit?”

Unfortunately for the world, you don’t want the same thing.

“Remember when I hauled your ass to the emergency room after you broke your leg at the skatepark in 9th grade?”

Beomgyu lets out a grunt upon hearing your question at the same time as he drops down to the ground with a thunk on the playground seesaw. “Right. That happened.” It’s late at night, the streetlights are dimming, and it’s a week before high school graduation. Not the most appropriate time to be playing around the kid-sized rides tucked in the corner of your apartment complex, but things have been penting up, and there currently seems to be no better way to deal with your physical and emotional exhaustion than by being sprung up to the air, down, and back up again.

“You also said— whoa!” You glue your feet firmly to the chalky ground before dangling your legs up once more. “You also said you’d do anything I ask after saving your ass. I’m here to collect your debt.”

The next instance, you aren’t see’d or saw’d back up. Beomgyu stays grounded, looking at with an expression you can only describe as oozing of suspicion. It is weird, you have to admit, bringing up a spur of a moment promise he made three years ago, possibly under the influence of anesthetics. You’d be suspicious of yourself, too. ���Alright,” he relents after a long moment of thought. Beomgyu leans forward, resting his arms over the seesaw handle and burying his chin into his sleeves. “Spit it out. What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.”

You press your lips together. “It’s not something you can buy.”

Now, that definitely doesn’t help your case. Your crypticness is causing his brows to furrow, and Beomgyu is deep in thought wondering what the hell kind of favor your fucked up head is thinking of (especially after the shrimp incident). You can save him from misery and just spit it out right then and there, but it’s not easy for you to pull out of your mouth either. Once this night is over, your throat will be littered with sores and cuts and it’ll all be self inflicted.

“Wait.” Beomgyu suddenly jolts up and sits straight, causing the seesaw to wobble a little. His ears are peeking out the mess of his hair. It’s already way past the school policy length— a privilege of a graduating student, he says. And despite the shadowed sky cloaking the playground lot, you can clearly see the tinge of red painting the thin skin. What is he thinking? you narrow your eyes at him. The blush has spread all over his neck. "You—you—you’re not trying to ask—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, sparing him from an aneurysm. “We’re starting college next month, right?”

His expression tells you he’s completely missed the mark. “Yeah...?” he sounds out, confusion riddled in his tongue. You bite down yours— an early repentance before finally throwing it out in the air.

“Can you do me a favor?” you squeak out. “Can you pretend like you don’t know me?”

Quiet washes over. You preemptively wince, expecting the impending torrent of swear words from your friend, but he doesn’t say anything. He says nothing for a long while, filling the quiet with tension-filled agony before finally saying, “I don’t understand.”

You swallow down a lump in your throat.

“What are you saying?”

There are uneasy creaks on the hinges of the seesaw set, as if it’s unsure whether to go up or down. The scent of iron seeps into your palms with how tightly you’re holding the handle. “Please pretend like we aren’t friends when we enter university,” you inhale sharply. “Better yet, act like you don’t know me at all, okay? Treat me like I was a ghost and I’ll do the same with you.” 

You don’t have the guts to look Beomgyu in the eye. You train your eyes to the graveled ground and hold in your breath, listening as the creaks of the rusty hinges slowly come to a still. He’s not saying anything. He isn’t saying anything and you’re starting to grow scared.

The seesaw finally stops rocking, and you finally hear Beomgyu’s response—

“Fine.”

—all while your ass gets dropped to the ground with an even louder thunk when Beomgyu gets off the damned thing. You let out a yelp as your body gets jerked back by the sudden recoil. 

“Hey!” you yell out, stumbling to get off the seesaw in a panic because he’s starting to walk. “Choi Beomgyu— wait up!”

“What?” he snaps his head back, and you flinch. He doesn’t look great. He doesn’t look happy at all. Guilt overhauls your entire being with a single, ringing punch and your tongue is weighed down by sand and soot and it’s difficult to swallow without the threat of choking. “I thought you wanted me to pretend like I don’t know you?”

You frown. “I did, but I didn’t mean it to be—”

Words fail when he turns his back to you once again. You can’t say anything. You can’t bring it in you to justify yourself. You can’t even find the shame to call him back. So all you can do is watch as Beomgyu slowly disappears into the evening, leaving behind more things in the playground than just you.

It’s fine, you inhale sharply. You can give him some space tonight and just talk it out on the way to school tomorrow. And it’s not like you didn’t expect him to be mad at you. It just hurt a lot more than you thought it would.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” you yell at his disappearing figure.

It stings, sure. But still. It’s something you feel like you need to do, because you don’t like Choi Beomgyu, and all the things he’s cost you.

#1: YOU DON’T LIKE HIM FOR WASTING SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME. You’re pretty sure at least three years of your lifespan has wilted away into nothingness because of how long it takes for him to answer the door. It takes two rounds of incessant knocking and a yell of his name. Even then, his mom is more likely to answer than the fucker himself.

He’s been like that ever since. Though you can’t exactly pinpoint when that ever since begins— you can’t remember how you met him because his stupid face has always been present in all of your earliest memories.

(Knock, knock, knock!

“Choi Beomgyu!”

Knock, knock, knock!

“Open the door!”

Classes ended early today, and your teachers at the academy are having a seminar so you don’t have to go there today. This was a rare opportunity in your life as a middle schooler— where every day runs from waking up, to eating, to studying, to eating, to studying again, studying some more, and wanting to quit studying. Today you had free time, and you’re going to spend it wisely.

At least that was the plan. But then Beomgyu called your landline while you were watching TV, saying that he had “something super, duper, insanely cool to show you and you’ll regret it if you don’t come over.” 

It’s probably something lame.

You hurried over to the unit right across yours.

But like usual, it took a good five minutes until you heard Beomgyu’s hurried footsteps padding louder and closer and closer. He didn’t give you an opportunity to be annoyed by him— he quickly tugged you into his home and shut the door lock with a kick, running into and out of the living room like it was a racing track, and before you knew it, you were in his room and he was all giddy and excited and it served as a sign that he was up to no good.

“You’re being suspicious,” you leered at him as he dug through his school bag, already taking the liberty to plop down on his bed. “What’s that?”

There was a proud grin on his face when he pulled it out and showed it off to you. You weren’t as impressed. In fact, you were terrified. 

Specifically because of the 18+ label on the CD container he’s holding.

“Why do you have that?!” you screeched. “Holy crap. You idiot. Are you trying to get us into trouble?!”

“We won’t get in trouble as long as you stop freaking out like a little wuss,” he reasoned, already slotting the forbidden CD into his conveniently placed laptop right at the foot of the bed.

Your houses shared an internet line, and most websites have been blocked as per both your parents’ request so it “doesn’t get in the way of your studying,” they say. You thought it was crap. Beomgyu thought  it was crap. So you’d been trying to find ways to subvert that restriction by whatever means you can get your hands on (i.e. going to PC rooms and getting dragged back home by your parents).

But that didn’t mean you were fine with watching a movie you legally weren’t allowed to watch.

This was absurd.

“Yeonjun hyung lent it to me. Hey, stop overreacting. You said you wanted to watch this and wouldn’t quit whining about it the past two weeks. I’m doing you a favor!”

“We’re not allowed to watch this! If our parents find out, they’re gonna—” You made the mistake of letting your eyes wander to the laptop screen. It’s all blood and guts and gore from the very beginning. You were taken. “Whoa. Move over.”

Beomgyu was grinning at his success. The equally bloody CD container found itself tucked underneath his bed, and before you knew it you were both hiding under the blankets, sharing a pair of earphones because there’s too much screaming and squelching from the off-brand slasher film your friend smuggled from a sketchy high schooler. Maybe that was just the right amount of screaming. You wouldn’t know. You’ve never watched anything like this before.)

To be frank, you don’t remember much about the film. You do remember nearly pissing yourself in fear and screaming along to the cries of agony whenever someone was killed on screen. Beomgyu was unfazed though— that freak. How was he not pissing himself when a severed limb flew into the frame?

But he wasn’t as calm when his brother came home early, and your constant screams of terror elicited understandable concern. (“Shut up! You’re going to get us caught,” he hissed, trying to smack his palm over your mouth but you’re already burying your face into his comforter and blindly shoving him off).

Long story short, you both got caught and got grounded for a week.

So much for having free time.

“Congrats on finishing your last exam!”

You grunt, shoving past Heeseung as you exit the classroom, a stack of scratch papers pressed to your chest. He trails behind you with an evident bounce in his step. You’d be just as excited had you not been brutally murdered by midterms week. It’s only your third month of university and you’re already ready to drop out. Why is this normalized? This is structural, systemic violence.

“Jieun and the rest are planning a night out tomorrow,” he mentions. “You coming?”

“No. I’m going to sleep for forty-eight hours and die.”

He tells you you’re no fun and you flip him off. Three months have passed and you feel like you’ve aged thirty years, but Heeseung is still fucking energetic and you’re sure it’s because the girl from computer science he’d been flirting with for the past two weeks finally agreed to go on a date with him. The stupid grin on his face as he’s typing on his phone is annoying you to no end. “What?” he asks, looking up from his phone, still all smiley and irksome. 

“You’re insufferable,” you deadpan. His expression morphs into confusion, then realization, then pity, then circles back into being incredibly annoying again. 

“If you beg, I can set you up with one of my friends.”

“Eat ass.” 

You smack the top of his head with the stack of papers. He is unfazed. “I know a few guys! C’mon! Instead of being bitter, why don’t I help you out? I don’t do this for everyone, you know. I’m only offering because you’re my friend.”

Well, the past three months haven’t been entirely bad. Your freshman batch was fairly easy to get along with— Heeseung specifically, whom you hit off with during the orientation. You’ve also been doing pretty well with all of your classes despite the back-breaking workload. And now that midterms are over, your uni has this policy to cancel classes for a whole week after every major exam (for the students’ “mental health” they say), so now you have the chance to finally fucking rest.

“Beomgyu!”

You flinch upon hearing Heeseung yell out his name. You can’t get used to it.

The space next to you becomes empty as Heeseung excuses himself for a moment to join Beomgyu and the little group he’s appeared with. You take the opportunity to shove the scratch papers you have into your bag, taking a few glimpses here and there— regretting doing that when Beomgyu happens to meet your gaze at one point, and you quickly avert your eyes to the posters on bulletin boards stuck on the hallway wall. E-Sports Fest 2023. Sign up for your respective departments now! 

“Later,” Heeseung waves them off and runs back to you. “Hey. We’re fucked. Beomgyu’s playing in like half of the games next, next week. The ICT fuckers have practically won already. This is too much of a skill gap. This isn’t fair.”

You give him a look. “Okay?”

Heeseung pouts. “At least pretend like you’re interested. Jeongin said yes, but I still have to get Chenle onboard so we can at least get second place, but he says he doesn’t wanna waste our short break so— hey, are you listening?”

No, you’re not. Because you met eyes with Choi Beomgyu once more before he left with his friends, and even if it’s been three months since you’ve last talked to him, there’s still a weird feeling in your gut every time you happen to cross paths.

It’s been easy for him to keep his promise. The both of you have different majors, and though you two share a few mutual friends, Heeseung doesn’t know shit about your history, and nobody seems to suspect anything. 

Still. You can’t completely avoid him. Not when you two are literally still neighbors. 

The both of you moved out since your campus is a two hour commute from your homes, but you also moved into the same apartment building in the city as per your parents’ request. (“Now, I’m more at ease knowing you’re still living next to her, Beomgyu,” your mother remarked the day his dad drove you both to your new building). Your mom didn’t know how not at ease you are with him still floating around you with a seeming permanence, especially after what happened in the playground that night. 

“Anyway, I have to go,” Heeseung tells you, probably off to meet the compsci girl he refuses to tell you the name and identity of. You fear she may be one of your friends. “How about you?”

“Off to have lunch with Sungchan and Minjeong,” you hum. “Have fun. Don’t come crying to me when you eventually get your heart broken.”

“You’re just bitter. Don’t worry. I’ll get you a date to save you from your misery.”

“Go to hell.”

“See you.”

The both of you part ways, and you meet up with the aforementioned two at the campus cafeteria because fast food is outside of your budget after splurging all your allowance on caffeine and energy drinks this week. Your two friends seem to have also been hard fucked by midterms. Lunch was filled with quiet complaints and you immediately took the first bus home after eating.

“You stopped by?” you speak into your phone, wedging the device between your cheek and shoulder as you punch in the code to your unit’s door. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve come home earlier.”

“It’s alright. I just left you some side dishes for the week. They’re in the fridge. Who knows what kind of junk you’re putting into your body without me on the watch.”

“I am eating perfectly well!” you exclaim, shutting your door with a click. You love your mom and her food but she’s as protective as ever. “I just got home. I’ll send photo evidence of me enjoying your kimchi, madam.”

You hear her laugh a little at the end of the line, and you hum out a smile. “I’m hanging up. You must be tired so get some rest.”

“Yeah, alright.” Upon entering the living room, you can see the familiar, reusable blue shopping bag on the open kitchen counter, its unreasonably gigantic size taking up too much of the space. You narrow your eyes and walk towards it. When you take a peek inside, there are still full containers and tupperwares. The rolled omelets look particularly good. “I thought you put them in the fridge,” you say. Without waiting for your mother’s response, you’ve already produced a pair of chopsticks and have pried a box open, stuffing a roll inside your mouth.

“Oh, those are for Beomgyu.” 

The eggs suddenly taste like sand.

“He mentioned on call last time that he was missing some of my home cooked dishes. Why haven’t you been sharing with him? Greedy child. Anyway, drop them off at his place later when he gets back. He wasn’t around when I visited earlier. Okay?”

First of all, why does your mother keep calling Choi Beomgyu behind your back? Second of all, the guilt of eating what is supposed to be Beomgyu’s food shot your appetite back down into oblivion, so you quickly close the container and stuff it back into the bag in a zip. “Okay. I’ll do that.” You throw the chopsticks into the sink. He isn’t gonna notice that one omelet is missing, right?” “Bye.”

“Come back home during your break.”

Then again. Why do you have to waste this perfectly good food on a guy like him?

The line ends. You fall to the floor with an anguished cry. “Ugh,” you groan, forehead hitting the counter body a few too many times that a bruise could form. “The bastard might snitch on me if I don’t do it. Fuck. Fine.”

You feel like a reanimated corpse when you force yourself back on your feet, a series of grunts as you begrudgingly lug the large bag of side dishes that won’t even end up in your stomach. This is fine, you exhale. You can do this. You’re gonna knock on the door, throw the bag to his face, and say goodbye without talking. This is fine. This is easy. 

But with Beomgyu, it’s never easy. The simplicity of the act ends after you’ve left your unit. What came after was the short, dreadful walk across the hallway because shit— in the past three months you’ve moved here, you have never actually gone up to his door. 

Knock, knock, knock.

No answer.

Knock, knock, knock.

Still no answer. This bastard never fucking grows.

“Choi Beomgyu!” Your light knocks quickly transition to a heavy banging. “Choi Beomgyu, open up—”

There’s a click and a creak. Your knuckles don’t land on the familiar hardwood— they land on his chest because the momentum made you keep knocking even after he’d opened the door. “Oh,” he flatly starts. A brow raised and arms crossed, he leans against the door frame and looks at you like you’re an unwelcome guest. “What do we have here?”

He’s insufferable. He’s totally insufferable.

“Who are you again?”

“Cut the crap, Beomgyu,” you grunt, absolutely not in the mood for this. You know that it’s a pretty shitty thing for you to ask him to pretend to be strangers. You really do, so you didn’t hold it against him for being mad at you at first. He’s been doing his end, sure, but you don’t remember him acting like a big fucking bitch to you in private as a part of the deal. 

You thought his anger would subside after three days. It’s been three months and at this point you’re convinced that this relationship is now irreparable, and neither of you are making the effort to resuscitate it. “You’re the one who came to my door. Why are you swearing at me?” he huffs. You grit your teeth, shoving the bag to him and his act of arrogance falters from surprise. You don’t miss how his eyes widen and how his scrunched up brows suddenly disappear under the messy bangs he’s decided to grow out.

“Here. I’ll take back the containers next week. Make sure you’ve washed them by then. Goodbye.”

That, in fact, wasn’t a good bye because you stomp back into your unit without giving him a second look. 

Dammit, dammit, dammit it all. The door is cold against your back when you retreat inside. You hate him. You really do. This would’ve been easier if your lives weren’t so irrevocably tangled— messed up in all sorts of knots and ties that even a fucking boyscout can’t tear it apart. 

You left your phone on the counter when you left and you can see it buzzing and lighting up. There’s a few messages. Hi, dear. How have you been? It’s from his mother. There is no escape to this. Absolutely none.

#2: YOU DON’T LIKE HIM FOR FORCING YOU TO SWALLOW SO MUCH OF YOUR PRIDE. Somehow, he’s always there at the lowest points of your life— moments where you wouldn’t even want any of your family to see you, but he’s there. He always is, and you’d always wish to evaporate along with the rain. 

Maybe he has a signal whenever you’re on the verge of doing something stupid. Or losing face. Or being absolutely dumped. Or all of the above at the same time. Maybe he’s there on purpose so he can have one more thing on his belt of things to hold against you.

(“I like you.”

The words squeezed out of your throat like a choke, more than anything. Maybe it was because of the fact that you sounded so pathetic that Jiwoong couldn’t even reject you properly. Maybe if he were to be frank, he was afraid that you’d end up crying.

“Um, there’s...there’s somewhere I have to be for a moment. You don’t mind waiting for a bit, right?”

But it wasn’t you that ended up in tears. It was the sky. You weren’t sure how long you’d been waiting, frozen still in an abandoned corner behind the school where your pink-stained note had asked him to come— him, your desk partner for the semester that you’d been unfortunately struck by— but it was long enough for the afternoon sky to be inked by gray clouds. Long enough for it to start pouring in on your behalf.

You sniffled. Ah, shit. This is stupid. You said you weren’t going to cry but fuck, your eyes suddenly started to sting, and you’re looking up at the clouds because gravity might help in preventing them from falling, but all it did was pool saltwater in your tearducts and now they’ve overflown, mixing into the raindrops cascading down your face.

“Until when are you going to keep standing there like an idiot?”

Instead of the gray, pouring sky, your vision is cloaked by a jarring electric blue. It was the same obnoxious color as the umbrella Beomgyu brings around. Then again— that was just his voice, too. Your cheeks started burning. That was enough to bring you back to your senses. “Did—did you see—”

“Let’s go home.”

It was one thing to be caught crying by your friend-slash-neighbor-slash-annoyance. It was another thing to be caught getting rejected by him. That was double the shame and embarrassment soiled. But Beomgyu hasn’t made a mention of it throughout your walk back to the building, much to your relief and suspicion. This man would make fun of you to the ends of high hell just for keeping a plushie to bed until you were thirteen— you weren’t sure when he started developing the emotional intelligence to stay in the comfort of silence throughout your walk home.

Of course, you didn’t expect him to hold his tongue for too long. It was an empty road, and the rain was still pouring. Beomgyu held up his umbrella above your head, and started with a low voice, “Want me to beat him up?”

Your steps lagged, faltering a little in mild surprise. “You?” An invisible force started tugging on the corners of your lips. “With your lanky ass and noodle arms? Keep dreaming, loser.”

“Hey—” You had to hold back a snort when you saw his face, an evident look of unbridled offense taking over, and he stopped in his tracks just to passionately defend himself. “You take that back. I’m strong. I’m pretty sure I can lift you up with just one arm. I can beat the shit out of Jiwoong if I wanted to.”

“Sure,” you snickered. “That is if you want to end up in the hospital. You’re all skin and bones, Beomgyu. You’re weak as hell. Remember the last time we arm wrestled? I’m pretty sure it ended up with me as the winner, and you as the— eep!”

You yelped, eyes widening. Suddenly, the ground wasn’t touching your feet anymore, you could feel the rain on your skin, and the bright, blue umbrella was now on the ground. You can see nothing but the fabric of Beomgyu’s dark and drenched uniform blazer and glimpses of the upside down pavement. Your face started to heat up. You could feel his firm grip around your waist and legs.

“That was in sixth grade, doofus. Keep up,” he snorted. 

“What the hell? Put me down!” you let out a grunt and tried to wiggle yourself free, but he’s unyielding— continuing the walk back home while carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “If you don’t put me down, I am going to bite you.”

“Nuh-uh.” The bastard gave your body a rough shake as a warning, and you screamed. “Not until you take back what you said earlier.” You balled your hands into a fist and hit his back. “Wow, you’re so ungrateful. I’m giving you a free ride home yet you decide to assault me. Your mother will be so disappointed when she hears this.”

“Your mother will shave your head if she finds out your haircut received a warning this morning.”

“Oooo—kay. Down you go. Ride over.” The moment Beomgyu settled you back on the ground, you gave him the nastiest glare you could muster. He gave you a grin. “Your hair is a mess.”

“Whose fault is it?” you sneer.

“Jiwoong’s,” he answered, matting down the top of your head with his hands. You winced when his fingers got caught between the wet, tangled strands. Beomgyu’s lips pursed as he tried to unravel them, brows furrowed in concentration. “I’m uninviting him to our game night tomorrow. He can eat shit.”

“He’s gonna talk shit if you do that,” you replied.

“Who cares.” He was finished tinkering with your hair. It was still pouring. “Done. Let’s go home.” You didn’t know if he made it better or worse.

“Okay,” you replied, feeling the top of your head. “But your umbrella ran away. Idiot.”

“Does it matter?” his lips quirked. “We’re already drenched, anyway.”)

The ice in your service water has already melted. You are going to kill a man named Lee Heeseung.

Why isn’t this motherfucker answering your calls? You let out a mental swear. It’s the second Saturday of your one-week break after midterms, and Heeseung organized a blind date for you and his friend today. The problem is, that said friend is nowhere to be seen. The customers next to your table have already changed thrice already. You’re not pathetic. You’re not gonna wait for him.

Right when you muster the willpower to get up, Heeseung finally answers your call. He’s quick to overtake your possible threats by immediately rambling, “Okay. Before you get mad—”

“You’re dead to me.”

“I’m sorry!” he screams-slash-pleads. “Eunseok canceled at the last minute because of this thing with his— nevermind. That’s not important. I’m gonna kick his ass the next time I see him, but please tell me you haven’t left the cafe yet.”

You bite your bottom lip. You want to lie. You want to tell him that you’ve already left thirty minutes ago and are now in your apartment with cozy pajamas and a cucumber face mask. “I’m around the area,” you reply. “Why?”

“Oh, good. Great.”

This is brow raising. The bell above the door entrance rings, catching your attention and you look up. “Why?”

“You’re still going on a date,” he tells you. “I promise you, your time definitely won’t be wasted—”

Heeseung’s voice disappears into the background. Entering the cafe is the person you want to see the least. He’s wearing the hooded sweater you got him for Christmas last year, and around his neck are the headphones you got him for his birthday.

“—so I called another friend. Don’t think of him as just a second option, okay?! I think he’s more your type anyway, and—”

He’s looking around. He still hasn’t noticed you. He’s standing in the middle of the shop and he pulls out his phone. 

“—and he’s headed there right— oh! He says he’s there already!”

Beomgyu has spotted you and you want to kill yourself. Your head drops down and you bite down a scream of agony and despair. “You’ve heard of Choi Beomgyu, right? From BSEMC? I’ve mentioned him a few times. Haha. Anyway. I hope you enjoy your da—”

“Heeseung told me his friend got stood up and needed a backup.” He’s now in front of you. He’s looking down at you from behind the opposite chair. “I didn’t expect that that friend would be you.”

You’re going to kill yourself after you kill Heeseung. Better yet, why not murder Beomgyu as well so you can all rot in bloody fucking hell? 

“Hello?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, trying your best to subtly hide the burning embarrassment on your face without making it obvious that your pride is now in perfectly tattered shambles. Of all people, why him? Why? For the love of god, why? “Just leave. I doubt you even want to be here. Let’s just spare each other the headache, alright?”

Beomgyu stifles a scoff. You watch as his knuckles flex while clutching the back of the chair. “I canceled a game for this.” He pulls it back and plops down on the seat like a petulant child. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your face contorts into an unabashed grimace. You take your bag and stand up. “Okay. Then, I’m leaving.” 

“You could’ve left an hour ago.”

Pause. He looks up at you, arms crossed and confident. Your upper lip twitches. You sit back down. Heeseung has already died twice in your head.

“I guess even someone as heartless as you is desperate for a little romance,” he hums, leaning back against his seat and completely at ease— a stark contrast to your end of the table: hot and bothered for all the wrong, not very sexy reasons. You’re trying to feign calmness, but the sweat dripping down your forehead from the heat of shame is ratting you out. This is the worst. This is the absolute worst.

You’re only able to breathe again when Beomgyu gets up to order something. Maybe you should order something too because your throat is as dry as bone. He returns not long after with a tray in hand. He settles it down on the table, revealing two glasses of iced tea and a plate of matcha tiramisu.

“Quit sulking,” he says. “You’re ugly when you sulk.”

With one hand, you flip him off. With the other, you use to grab one of the forks and dig into the dessert. Beomgyu mirrors your actions (minus the middle finger part), and grimaces after a spoonful lands in his mouth. “How are you eating this?” You hover a hand over your lips, pressing down a laugh. “It tastes like grass. Are you a cow? Is that it?”

Offended, you pull the plate closer to you. “Then why did you buy matcha if you’re just gonna insult it?”

“Because you like it.” Beomgyu reaches an arm over to get another bite, gags, then continues to try again. “Your tastebuds are really fucking weird. You should get them checked. I think they’re broken.”

You settle with an eye roll before taking a sip from the iced tea. This is odd. This feels like you’ve been transported back into time prior to your three-month long cold war. Choi Beomgyu is sitting in front of you and tapping on his phone laid on the table, and you’re sitting in front of him enjoying a nice piece of dessert he bought. There’s an odd cacophony inside your stomach— like butterflies and glass shards fluttering and cracking in a single enclosed space. 

“I heard you’ll be playing for the E-Sports Fest next week,” you mention, trying to dig a deeper hole into this crack that managed to resurface. Beomgyu gives you a weird, insinuating look in response. “Shut your face. I just keep hearing your name being mentioned. Heeseung is obsessed with you, I think.”

“Why are you asking?” he snorts, passing you a napkin. “You want to cheer for me?”

“Ew. Why would I?” you reply, blindly wiping at the corner of your mouth. “We’re not even from the same department.”

Beomgyu’s eyebrows knit together, trained on the lower half of your face. “Tch. Then why even bring it up, you—”

Time stops. For some reason, Beomgyu has reached his arm over the table and is now touching your face, thumb pressed against the side of your lip with a napkin, the opposite side of where you were trying to wipe off. 

Your eyes meet. It gets warm.

“Sorry,” he coughs out, retracting his hand to wipe the green-dusted cream off his fingers. Now, you know all of Choi Beomgyu’s tells like the back of your hand— and he’s not hiding those blushing ears from anyone. You’ve caught him. You knew his son of a bitch act was gonna crumble at some point (no, you didn’t. You thought he was gonna stay mad at you forever so now your heart is racing in glee). “If you’re done, let’s go. Come pick up your mom’s containers from my place.”

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Right.”

“I washed them.”

“Congratulations.”

He sneers. “Get up. I’m leaving you.”

The one thing you regret about making the deal with Beomgyu is missing out the opportunity of taking advantage of him and the car his parents’ gifted for graduation. Seriously. Had you known he’d be driving a private vehicle to and from campus everyday, you might have never asked for that favor in the first place. Those three months worth of bus fares could’ve been spent on your daily doses of coffee instead.

“Seatbelt,” he reminds while pulling out of the driveway. You’re mildly impressed and your face isn’t hiding it, and neither is the bashful tint on the tips of his ears. “Quit staring, you weirdo.”

“You can be kind of cool after all.” You give him a thumbs up. He grunts, and now you’re on the road back to your apartment.

It’s a quiet drive— the hum of the engine filling the early evening silence. You steal a few glances here and there, sneaking a few peeks at a new side of your friend(?) that you’ve never witnessed before. Since when was he so good at driving? He’s got only one hand on the steering wheel. It’s weird, you think. You’ve known everything about him for as long as you can remember, and finding out something new for the first time in a while— and not being the first one to find out about it— is making odd twists and turns inside your gut.

When you reach the apartment building, it’s still quiet. And when you ride up the elevator all the way to your floor, walking up the space between both of your doors, silence still permeates the walls and it makes you wonder— has it ever been this quiet between you two? 

“I’ll go get the stuff. Stay here.”

You’re left behind with your messy thoughts in the hallway and before things can get even more tangled up, Beomgyu shows up again with the bright blue shopping bag you dropped off last week. “Tell the madam that her seasoned spinach is perfect as usual.” He returns the bag, a faint smile on his face.

“Go tell her that yourself,” you huff, retrieving it from him. “I’m pretty sure she calls you more often than she calls me.” The tupperwares and containers look clean. You should give him a treat for doing a good job.

“Your mother is constantly worried about her young, impressionable daughter taking her first steps of independence, but doesn’t want to be called overbearing by her only child, so she asks me about you instead.” Beomgyu’s tone is nagging. You shoot him a glare and he simply steps closer to jab a finger into your forehead. “You have no idea how hard it is to make up bullshit about what you’ve been up to. You owe me a lot, dipshit.”

You wince, smacking his hand away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The corners of his mouth twitch. His eyes leer away for a moment, and he lets out a huff of air through his nose. “Why? Do I know you?”

Oh god. Here he goes again.

“Why do you keep—” You stop, squeezing your eyes and taking in a deep inhale because for a moment there, you were just about to yell again. “Okay,” you restart. You should do something about your temper. “Okay. I apologize for troubling you, and I’ll tell her to quit bothering you, so—”

It was going well. It was going so well. Only if you had missed the very subtle, very irritating roll of his eyes upon your remark. 

“—so you should quit being an absolute dickhead too, asshole!”

Then maybe you could’ve lived in happy ignorance, and all your progress today wouldn’t have to restart.

“Oh, so I’m the asshole?” he scoffs, incredulous. “You’re the one who told me to distance myself. You’re the one who asked. I’m just doing what you told me to do. Why am I in the wrong?” Your throat tightens, a familiar choke the moment you try to swallow. 

“I never asked you to stop being friends with me, Beomgyu! I just—”

Asked you to keep our friendship hidden because I’m selfish. Because I’m insecure. Because I hate you just as much as you mean the world to me. 

But you can’t tell him any of these things, can’t you?

His disappointment is clear from the look on his face. Beomgyu lets his fingers rake through his hair with a sigh. “Just go home. Thanks for the food.”

There’s something twisting inside your stomach, churning at an uncomfortable pace. It’s gnawing and grating. You’re only able to pinpoint it when Beomgyu turns back to his apartment, prompted by the resounding click of his door lock.

Ah, you realize amid the silence of the now empty hallway. It’s guilt.

#3: YOU DON’T LIKE HOW MUCH OF YOUR IDENTITY HE’S STRIPPED AWAY. You know it’s not on purpose. You know he doesn’t know. But it’s something that’s plagued you until your last few weeks of high school— the time for last chances, and final opportunities. It’s for this reason that you can’t stand him the most.

(“Hey!”

It was an unfamiliar voice that called out your name from behind you in the hallway, so you ignored it assuming that maybe they were calling someone else. It gets repeated, and you stop in front of your locker to retrieve your shoes, paying no mind to it. You’re going home alone today because Beomgyu’s out with his guy friends. “We’re having dinner together at my house later! Don’t forget!” was the last thing he yelled at you before running off. An unconscious smile crawls onto your face at the thought of it.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and heard the same voice that’d been repeating your name. You spin around, and are a little surprised to see the group standing behind you. “Hi!” 

It was Haena, one of your classmates, and she was joined with two more of the girls from your class, and one that you didn’t quite recognize. 

“Oh, sorry,” you bowed a little. “I didn’t know I was the one you were calling. I wasn’t trying to ignore you, sorry.” Your surprise stemmed from the fact that you weren’t really close with Haena or her friends. Not that you were on bad terms. You greeted each other from time to time, but your friend circle really just consisted of Choi Beomgyu, your deskmate Chaeryeong, and Ryunjin from the broadcasting club.

“It’s alright,” she smiled. “Do you…maybe have any plans today?”

You pulled out your shoes from the locker and closed it tightly. “No, not really.”

“Great! There’s a new cafe that opened near the school. Wanna join us?”

Well. This was unexpected. You didn’t have any other plans besides the joint family dinner you had with the Choi’s, so going on a cafe detour wouldn’t hurt. Beomgyu was also out with his other friends right now. Who says you couldn’t do the same? “Sure,” you replied. “I’ll join.”

It was a cute, cat-themed cafe with the only disappointment being that there were no actual cats— just the cat-shaped whipped cream on your strawberry drink, and the cat-shaped tiramisu on your plate. Cats weren’t usually green or pink, but you digress.

The girls were friendly. Conversation ranged from the universities you’ll all be attending, the classes you’re all about to finish, sprinkled with topics on shopping and clothes and the names of the rest of your classmates here and there. You’d started to zone out after a good while, stirring the contents of your half-empty drink as you stared at the glass windows, tinted orange by the sunset sky.

Haena cleared her throat. “So,” she started. You turned your attention back to your companions, and your eyes widened a little when you were met with all their eyes on you. Haena pronounced your name. “I’ve always been curious about something.”

You blinked. “About what?”

She leaned closer, a smile playing on her lips. “Are you and Beomgyu dating?”

You nearly choked on the sweet, strawberry drink. “What? No!” 

“Really?” Seohyun nudged herself closer next to you on the seat.

“Everyone thinks you’re dating him,” said Bora. “You’re always together.”

“Ah, that’s ridiculous! I’m really not dating him!” Your face has started to warm up. Gosh, what was this? What kind of situation was this? A few of them weren’t convinced, you could tell. You pressed your lips together before breathing out, “We’ve known each other since we were like toddlers. There’s no way in hell I’d be dating him. I don’t know where you're getting all these assumptions from.”

There was a glint in Haena’s eyes that you didn’t fail to notice.

“So, you don’t have any feelings for him?” This was getting weird.

“No. No, I don’t.” And even if you did, what the hell would they be interrogating you about it?

Haena visibly brightened. “Really? Then can you set me up with him?”

You were dumbfounded.

“I’m— I’m sorry?”

Things started to click. Senior high school was almost over, and your classmates whom you’ve barely even shared a conversation with for the past three years, were taking their last chance to start something with their crushes, or some shit, under the guise of half-hearted friendliness. You’ve understood now— and you’re nothing less than offended.

“Actually, I’ve liked Beomgyu for a while now,” Haena bashfully admitted. Seohyun inserted that her friend has had a crush on him since the beginning of the year. “I thought there was something going on between the two of you so I never acted on it. But I’m so happy to hear that you two are just friends!”

You shouldn’t be annoyed. But you were. You were very annoyed.

“You’ll help me right?”

Needless to say, you went home that day with your cat tiramisu in a paper box as takeout. The next morning, the three girls greeted your classroom entrance with unabashed glares. You paid no mind and headed over to your seat at the back, where an out of place box of chocolate milk was gingerly resting on the table.

You were mildly suspicious that Choi Beomgyu was the one who put that there, so you held it in your hands with caution, examining the box closer when you took a seat. 

The alleged perpetrator suddenly showed up from behind you. Your head felt heavier. Beomgyu was resting his arms on the top of your head, leaning down all of his weight onto you. “Oh wow,” he started. “Looks like someone has a secret admirer.”

You elbowed him and he let out a sharp yelp. You could see Haena giving you dirty looks from afar. “Go back to your seat,” you scolded him. “Class is starting soon.” Beomgyu listens to you well, but not after messing up your hair even further and greeting Seungmin who had just walked in.

“Are we still going after class?”

Choi Beomgyu was always surrounded by people. This was something you noticed a few months into your second year of middle school. He was like a lamp, flocked by so many buzzing insects in the night— just like right now, his face barely visible from inside the crowd at the middle of the classroom where his seat was. Even your seating assignments placed him at the center. That’s just where he’s meant to be.

“Hey, did you and Haena get into a fight?” 

You looked up to see Chaeryeong barely arriving in time before the bell, pulling her seat back and plopping down right next to you.

“Don’t mind it.” You sunk your face into your arms on the desk, elbow grazing the still unopened chocolate milk on the line dividing yours and your friend’s desk. “Hey,” you let your face peek out a little from your makeshift cocoon. “From an outsider’s perspective...do Beomgyu and I give the impression that we’re, um, dating?”

She snorted. “Haven’t your parents arranged your marriage, already?”

“This is a serious question!”

Honestly, this has never crossed your mind. Not until Haena mentioned it yesterday. It took a while for things to click inside your brain, but if this misunderstanding was really not singular, then that would really explain why you have never received any confession, any valentine’s day chocolate, or love letter, or anything for the past three years of highschool. It was all Beomgyu’s fault. He’s been unknowingly sabotaging your love life and if you end up sad and dying alone, it’s all on him.

Well, I guess it’s not completely ruined. Your cheeks pressed against your arms, looking at the milk carton on your desk. 

When you got up to your desk the next morning, there was another milk carton on your table.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Seungmin hovering in front of your table. “What?”

“Not even a good morning? Beomgyu was right. You do have an attitude.” You rolled your eyes and stuffed the drink into your bag, and Seungmin decided to keep talking. “Anyway, where is he? You two usually arrive at the same time.”

“He slept through his alarm,” you replied. Then you furrowed your brows. “Why are you asking me? Couldn’t you just text him?”

“Well, it would be quicker to just ask you. Anyway, thanks.”

With that, he left. The bell rang, and your teacher arrived. You decide to save the drink until lunch time and when you got back to the classroom from the cafeteria, there was another snack on your table. For the next following days, you would find snacks suddenly spawning on your table. It was starting to get curious.

“Whoa. Holy crap. Someone might actually have a crush on you.”

It was now Friday, the end of the week, and you have accumulated a total of four milk boxes, three melon breads, and one pack of cookies all throughout. You and Beomgyu were staring down at the latest addition: a grape juice box and a packet of chocopie. He started muttering, “Does your admirer know that you snore when you—”

You gave him a kick. Beomgyu matched it with a harsh pull on your bag. He quickly ran away before you could retaliate, the rest of his body having already left, and his head peeking from the door to give you one last message.

“I’m going first! We have a raid in a while. What time is dinner later?”

“I’ll message you.”

“Alright,” he hummed. “See you. Text me if something comes up.”

This must be why people think you were dating. You were tired of it. When you were younger, people paid no mind to how much time and space you two were spending together— now that you’ve gotten a little older, maybe some things couldn’t be perceived as platonic forever.

But you don’t have any feelings for him, and neither does he for you. The only feeling you have for him is a penetrating sense of irritation. You mulled it over as you left the school building, clutching your bag straps as you walked. However, you paused upon seeing a familiar face standing at the edge of the entrance stairs. He looked like he was waiting for someone. 

“Oh! Um,” he suddenly exclaimed upon noticing your approaching presence. A cough stifled out from his throat, followed by a nervous smile. “Hi.”

It was Lim Jimin, one of your classmates and one of the boys that were usually rallying up every afternoon after class to the internet cafe with Beomgyu and Seungmin like a bunch of nerds. “Hey?” you greet back. “Didn’t you guys have a raid or something today? I think they already left.”

“No, I uh, I stayed behind,” he mumbled. “Can we talk for a bit?”

The chocolate milk carton he was holding had not gone unnoticed by you. Your narrowed eyes flitted over to his fidgeting fingers. His nerves were spilling right out. “Have you been the one leaving food on my desk?”

He flinched. “Yeah— well—” A smile curled on your lips. “Damn, this is a little embarrassing. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you hummed. “I enjoyed them. Thanks.”

There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks, a sheepish hand on the back of his neck and it looked as if he was running through a million thoughts in his head at once. “I’ve...I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he finally started after a moment’s silence. “Can you do me a favor?”

Your heart jumped. Holy shit. This is happening, this is actually happening. 

“Y—yeah?”

Your breath hitched inside your throat. Oh my god. You might actually end your curse of lovelessness today. Oh my fucking god.

“Can you convince Beomgyu to help me get to Platinum in League?”

What?

“I—I know this sounds dumb, and it’s kinda pathetic that I had to bribe you with snacks just to get to this— but he’s been refusing to help any of us because he leaves after like three games!” Jimin exclaimed, and, upon noticing the flat look on your face, quickly gathered himself back together. “Ahem. I thought…maybe you could convince him since you’re like, his girlfriend and all.”

Your brain was a loading screen. You blinked but saw nothing but red. Beomgyu goes home after three games because you guys eat dinner at six in the evening. Jimin was giving you food as a bribe. You were not getting a confession.

All at once, the blood rose to your face,

“W-wait— is that a yes? Are you gonna ask him—”

Your shame couldn’t keep you standing there like an idiot for any longer. Every hurried step you took was a testament of your misery, and you left behind in your wake a fucking wave of turmoil and embarrassment. Fuck, your cheeks were burning. Fuck, why did Beomgyu have to entertain that idea and muddled your brain.

“Oh, you’re home?” your mother greeted the moment you kicked open your apartment door and started stomping to your room. “Where’s Beomgyu? Why didn’t you come home toge—”

“Ugh!” you groaned. “Enough about him, please!”

Did you only exist as an extension of him? As a part of him? As Choi Beomgyu’s friend, girlfriend, whatever, as the girl who’s always been around him for the past seventeen years to the point where that was all you’re known for?

You were fucking sick of it.

Your mom was scolding you for yelling at her, but you were far into your emotions to stay behind and say sorry. Your bag was left on the living room floor, and you were once again stomping out of your apartment unit, only to bump your face into Choi Beomgyu. “Whoa,” he remarked, quickly grabbing onto your shoulders. “Where are you going?”

“Out.” You shoved yourself off him.

“Someone’s cranky,” he mused, trailing behind you as you continued bulldozing down the hallway, down the stairs, out the building and on the dim and chalky path towards the playground. Beomgyu kept chattering. “What’s up? Why are you mad? Did you leave something behind in the classroom? Okay, you aren’t talking to me. That’s fine. I was gonna ask you what flowers you wanted for our graduation ceremony, but I guess I’ll just pick and choose whatever I—”

Smack!

You’ve spun around. You’ve got his face smacked in between your palms, promptly shutting him up. His eyes flew open, mouth firmly and tightly closed. “Can you stop talking for a second?” you guttered out.

Beomgyu stared at you, eyes still wide, then nodded once, still sandwiched between your palms. You bit down your bottom lip. Your ribcage was starting to squeeze in on itself. “Sorry,” you mumbled, arms falling back to your sides and you resumed your march towards the playground. 

He stayed silent for the rest of the time, following you on the see-saws and the both of you exchanged ups and downs for a few moments— quiet moments— until you were the one to break it.

“Hey, fuckface,” you called out,

“What do you want, dipshit?” he replied.

“Remember when I hauled your ass to the emergency room after you broke your leg at the skatepark in 9th grade?”)

YOUR MORNING STARTED OFF NICELY. It’s the first day back to uni after your one week break. You woke up before your alarm and had the time to make a really stir-fried rice meal for breakfast (your first breakfast in a week, mind you). Your clothes are fresh from the dryer, mascara unclumpy, and you arrive at the bus stop at the same time as your bus to campus arrives, right on the dot. 

Today is going great. That is until Heeseung shows up at the library after sending you a text that he’s on the way, and ruins everything with one, single statement.

“Did you sleep with Beomgyu the other night?”

The orange juice you’re drinking nearly dribbles out of your mouth.

“What the fuck?”

Your voice is louder than you thought. Heeseung shushes you and sits and pulls out the seat next to yours, ready to explain. “The guys from the coding club blew up the GC last night. A few of them saw you come out of his car and enter his apartment building together last Saturday. I think there were pictures.” Your mouth is agape. You’re speechless. “I didn’t tell them anything! Some of the guys were just around the neighborhood and happened to see you.”

Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no no.

“But, I guess...the blind date went well?”

God, fuck no.

Your worst nightmare has finally come crashing into reality.

“We live in the same building, get your mind out of the gutter!” you hiss, pulling him by the collar. Heeseung is very visibly terrified. You never wanted him to find out about your living situation in the first place because you know that he’d force you to hang out with them whenever he’s crashing at Beomgyu’s. You’re starting to regret hitting up a conversation with him during the orientation. These men are the banes of your existence. “Who is it? Who the fuck is spreading that stupid fucking rumor?”

“Please let go of me,” he squeaks out. You grunt, releasing the fabric of his shirt. He takes in a breath and fixes his clothes. “I’m not a snitch. Sorry.”

Heeseung is avoiding your eyes. He’s twiddling with the top button of his button up, nervously pressing together his lips. You run through the members of their “coding club” (it’s just a cover so they can play games in a cushy campus office). It doesn’t take long for you to come up with a name.

“Yang Jeongin.” Your friend’s panic tells you that you’re on the nail. 

“He only sent the photo!” he quickly exclaims. “He never said that you two were hooking up or anything! Please, spare him, please—”

So much for a perfect morning. It’s not even nine and you’re already fucking drained.

You let out a groan, massaging your temples and balancing yourself with your elbows on the study table. Heeseung is spewing out a million apologies and you’re not taking shit. “You’re not gonna go to our clubroom and destroy our computers, right?”

“Thanks for the idea.”

“You’re a demon,” he grumbles. “What’s the big deal, anyway? You yourself said you and Beomgyu didn’t fuck. But you two went home together and you haven’t complained about him yet. That means your date went really, really—”

“Can you please just quit it?!” 

That’s it. You’ve had enough. You shoot up from your seat, quickly gathering your things before you actually start throwing punches. “I’m sick and tired of hearing his name!” Heeseung gulps. He quickly scoots away to evade your haphazardly swinging bag. “Why the fuck do you all keep mentioning that piece of shit? It’s like everyone’s obsessed with him, it’s like everyone wants a chance to ride on his di—”

The words get cut off. Because when you turned around to make your leave, Choi Beomgyu was right there, behind you, and you bump into him and his blank face of terror.

“Oh.”

Yang Jeongin is also there, looking mildly scared of you.

But you’re more horrified than anyone in this hall.

Hiccup!

Your face flushes, searing hot and visibly enflamed.

“I, uh—” hiccup! “I’m about to leave anyway so you guys can—” hiccup! “—shit, fuck, fucking hell—”

You quickly swerve away, head down, but an arm swooshes over to barricade your exit path. There’s a water bottle in front of your heated face. Your line of sight follows towards the owner of the arm. Beomgyu is looking at you straight in the eye.

“Drink some water first.”

Hiccup!

Fuck, this is so embarrassing.

“Whoa. She’s so fast.”

The three boys watch your speedily retreating figure, pausing once or twice because of a hiccup, but your pace is still abnormally fast as you escape from the premises. There is no trace of you, save for the orange juice container you’d been drinking since earlier.

“There’s this tension between the two of you, you know.” Beomgyu turns his head to Heeseung who made the observation, a single eyebrow raised. “Do you two really live in the same building, or is she just making up an excuse? Seriously. Tell me how it went with you two. I was the one who set you up. I think I have the right to know.”

Beomgyu holds back a snort. He leans closer to Heeseung, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “You wanna know?”

Heeseung’s eyes sparkle. “Dude, I’m dying of curiosi—”

Smack!

“That’s none of your business.”

Beomgyu swipes the juice box from the table and promptly leaves the library despite the protests of his two friends. Out in the hallway, he doubts he could catch up to you after running away like a white collar convict, but who knows? He might get lucky— just like last Saturday.

“Hey, dude, wait up!”

An arm is hooked around his neck, and he gets pulled down with a grunt. He might be unable to catch up to you, but his friends definitely can with him. Now all his chances are gone, slipping out of his fingers like the juice container that he drops when caught between Heeseung and Jeongin shoving each other around, and it’s now completely lost upon the arrival of the people from his major.

“Hey, classes are canceled.”

“What are we having for lunch?”

“Are we having a practice run later for the festival?”

“Wait, I have to update my story— hey, look at the camera!”

They talk, but it’s all white noise. He gets carried off by static for the rest of the day. He hopes to bump into you when he gets home, but Beomgyu doesn’t even know what time you usually get home.

All the years you’ve spent mastering the perfect bitch face have finally come to fruition when you visited the programming club during lunch to make sure none of the bullshit they’re speculated escapes their clubroom doors. They all apologized— apparently Beomgyu also told them to quit their gossiping. 

However not even fear can stop an inherently stupid man. Because the next day, Minjeong suddenly tells you, “hey, I didn’t know you and Choi Beomgyu were a thing!”

Now, which rat managed to slip through the door crack?

“No, we’re not,” you scrunch your nose. “Where did you get that from?”

From a friend of a friend of a friend, she says. Sungchan asked you the same thing earlier. So did some guy from one class whom you don’t even know the name of. Your head is hurting. Crap that blind date was a stupid fucking idea. Seriously, why does no one know how to mind their own business? What is it about Choi Beomgyu that people just can’t keep his name out of their mouths? He’s not even a celebrity. He’s just a freshman with a pretty face and the social skills of an annoyingly loud butterfly.

“I’m going home,” you tell her.

“Why? I thought we were having barbecue with the rest of the guys!”

Not when you’re sure you’re gonna be barraged by another slew of questions about your dumb childhood friend. You bid Minjeong goodbye and exit the campus, hopping on the bus back to your apartment with a dead set agenda in mind. You’re going to fix this. You’r gonna bring things back to normal once and for all. So when you arrive at your floor, you don’t make a left like you usually do— you turn to your right and make three hard knocks on the sturdy door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Choi Beomgyu.”

Knock, knock, knock.

“Beomgyu, are you ho—”

It gets opened sooner than you’re used to.

“Listen. We need to talk,” you quickly start, ignoring the surprise on his face upon seeing you, ignoring the way he almost shuts the door again right into your face. You hold back a scoff, but a sneer manages to sneak out. “Things have gotten messy since last Saturday. You should’ve kept your clubmates in check. What’s the point of acting like we’re strangers when people I don’t know keep asking me if I’m your fucking girlfriend, and Lee Heeseung keeps badgering me about what’s going on between us, and— oh my fucking god. Heeseung is right there.”

Beomgyu’s body is shielding you from the view of his living room. It’s not doing a good job because Heeseung waves at you from inside. Jeongin is there too. You can’t do this anymore. You’re cursed. You’re cursed with a plague called Choi Beomgyu and his ten million friends.

Your shaking eyes flit over back to Beomgyu. He looks panicked. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your throat and shrivel up like a pathetic dried grape.

“Fuck.”

At this point, running away feels like muscle memory to you now.

“Wait, I— hold on. I’ll be back,” you hear him say right before the door clicks and there’s another pair of pattering footsteps down the hallway right behind yours. The rhythm is familiar— a lag by one step, catching up, then slowing down as if he doesn’t want to overtake you all while you bulldoze through the hallway until you reach the flight of stairs, down three floors, and you’re met with the cold wind of the outside.

It’s only now that you realize your lungs are shaking.

“Hey—”

You smack away his attempt to settle a hand on your shoulder, but you’re far too embarrassed to look up and look him in the eye. Your face is burning. It’s been burnt so many times within the span of two weeks and it’s a miracle it hasn’t been charred. “Go away. Go back upstairs,” you sniffle. All you can see is the cement ground and the worn out slippers on his feet.

He stifles out something sort of a sigh. “No.” There’s a tug on the hem of your shirt. You wobble forward. Beomgyu holds onto your arms. You finally snap your head up and see his face. “You said we needed to talk. Let’s talk.”

It’s a little pathetic how you’re so near to breaking into tears. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to.”

“Is that really what you should be saying after completely screwing yourself over?”

“Shut up.” All the strength you had in your legs has been stripped away. Beomgyu is tugging your limp body to your complex’s gazebo with ease. “How could I have known your friends would be there?” you drawl out, allowing yourself to be dragged under its overhead roof.

He settles you down onto the stairs. “Isn’t Heeseung your friend too?”

“Not anymore.” You plop down on the wood, shoulders slacked, legs outstretched. Beomgyu is standing before you with his arms crossed. “From now on, he is nothing to me.”

There’s a frown on his face. “You should’ve called before deciding to blow up like that. I did my best. You’re the one that ruined your whole stranger agenda.”

“Fuck off, I’m still trying to cope.”

You kick out your foot like a child throwing a tantrum, and Beomgyu definitely doesn’t look impressed. He walks up, signaling you to scoot over, and squeezes right next to you on the narrow stair step of the gazebo. 

Shoulders pressed together, he leans slightly forward, elbows on his lap, and all you can see is the side of his face as you incline backwards so you don’t suffocate from the sudden tightness of air. “Am I like, too lame for you, or something,” he suddenly says. You blink once, failing to comprehend his words the first time. When he cocks his head back, you see the look in his eyes— earnest and raw.

You can’t help but crack out a snort.

“I’m— I’m sorry,” you sputter out. Your plaster your hands over your face, trying to suppress your misplaced chimes. “I just didn’t think you could make that kind of face. Wow, you can be serious too, huh?”

“You’re laughing,” he deadpans. “I’m trying to be serious here and you’re laughing.”

“I said I was sorry! Okay, let’s try again, let’s try again.” You clear your throat, sitting up straight and patting your palms on your lap, but something keeps tugging on the corners of your mouth and it’s hard to sit still. “No, you are not ‘too lame’ for me, Beomgyu. Where did that even come from?”

His expression bitters, unconvinced. “Then are you ashamed of me?”

“No.”

“Did I do anything abhorrently wrong?”

“What? No—”

“Am I not cool enough to be considered your friend?”

“Beomgyu, what are you talking about?” It was funny the first time, but now you’re just concerned. “Would I have stuck around your ass for almost twenty years if I thought any of that? Things haven’t been the best between us lately, but I still think we’re friends, Beomgyu, I—”

There’s a crack in your voice. Your face flushes. He’s looking at you so intently that you instinctively drop your head down before prying out the words that’s been lingering in your throat for months overdue.

“I…I hope we still are,” you mutter. “I really do.”

“Then why did you want to act like we’re not?” 

There it is.

“I didn’t want to keep it up for a long time!” you reason. “I just— I just wanted to keep my distance until I’ve adjusted to uni and until I’ve made a few friends of my own because for most of my life, I’ve only been known as the girl who’s always around you and nothing else.”

It takes a gnaw at your pride to be finally saying this out loud. It’s a bitter taste on your tongue— ugly and unpalatable and you’re glad that you won’t ever have to swallow it ever again. 

When you look up, you see Beomgyu make another new face you never expected from him.

“I doubt you noticed how people would only approach me because of you, but I really don’t blame you for anything. It was an unreasonable request and you had every right to be mad. I might have taken it back had we stayed around on the playground for a little longer.” You take a pause. “But then you started acting like a dick to me so I decided to be a dick to you too.”

You expect him to bite back but he doesn’t and it worries you. Shit, maybe you’ve unhauled too much. Maybe this wasn’t the right time be all vulnerable and crap but Beomgyu isn’t telling you you’re a big fucking idiot, so maybe it’s fine.

Instead, he stays quiet for a little longer, your words simmering in the air. 

“I wasn’t just angry. I was hurt,” he finally says. “Like you said, you’ve been with me for all my life and you suddenly tell me to reverse all of that. How the fuck did you expect me to act like you’re nobody when we both know that at this point I can’t live without you.”

Oh.

“Shit.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen.

“I didn’t mean— I didn’t want to say—” He’s covering the bottom half of his face with his fist. He’s turning his head away as much as he can but you can still see enough to notice. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that. Forget about it.”

You lean closer. “Beomgyu, are you crying?”

“No. Fuck off.”

His right shoulder is serving as his shield as you try to dig your nose further, completely turning away from you, but you don’t miss it. You can’t miss it. “Oh my god, you’re crying.” Beomgyu leers back at you ever the slightest. There’s red tinting his eyes. You expect him to scurry off back into the building after that— but, no. Instead, pulls you by the forearm, and lets his head fall onto your shoulder, his forehead pressed firmly down. 

“Eat shit and die,” he mutters in between sniffles. After your initial surprise, you lift up the arm he isn’t grabbing onto to give him a few pats on the back, circles over his shoulder blades, and you stay like that for a while, for maybe too long because the sky is now darker than when you first went outside.

“Beomgyu,” you start.

“What do you want?” he muffles, as if he isn’t still draped over you like an oversized rag.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was selfish and inconsiderate.”

You hear him sniffle again. Heeseung wouldn’t believe you if you tell him Choi Beomgyu is actually a big baby. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize the way other people were treating you,” he says. “I can’t help being such a cool guy that you get overshadowed, you know. So I’m not sorry for that— ow! Ow, what the heck!”

You pry him off by the hair. You’re sure a few strands got plucked off, but a realization you didn’t expect to glean from this was the fact that his stupid shaggy hair is actually really soft. “I think this is enough. We should head back.”

In spite of his complaining, Beomgyu trails behind you when you stand up and dust yourself before making your way back inside. It’s still quiet, save for the hisses and grunts and swears whenever Beomgyu would step on your shoes, whenever he’d bump into you and feign innocence, whenever he’d get on your nerves immediately after just reconciling with you. 

It’s annoying. It’s annoying and it’s better than everything that’s been these past three months.

“Are you twelve?” you shoot him a glare, ready to punch in your door code before you get the urge to punch him instead.

“Come inside,” he tells you, nosing at his side of the apartment. “Let’s watch a movie.”

You raise a brow and cross your arms. “All of a sudden?”

“Yeah.” He mimics your pose. “Got a problem with that?”

You roll your eyes, but somehow you’re now a few steps away from your front door, and are now a few steps closer to his. “I do have a problem with it. Your fucking friends are in there.”

“I’ll deal with them.”

“Wow,” you snort. “So reliable.”

Still, you follow. Beomgyu twists his door knob and you’re suddenly nervous for the possible bullshit Heeseung would barrage you about your relationship with Beomgyu, but that doesn’t happen. The moment Beomgyu cracks open the door, his voice bounces around the inside of his apartment’s walls. “Anyone who doesn’t leave after the count of five will be banned from my apartment forever. Five. Four—”

Holy crap. You’re more surprised to see it actually work because Heeseung and Jeongin who’d been laying on the floor and tinkering with their playstation controllers have suddenly catapulted from the ground. “Wait, what about her?!” Heeseung protests as he’s being shoved by Jeongin out the door.

“She’s exempted,” Beomgyu responds. “Three. Two—”

“Whatever’s going on between you two, I take credit! You better spill the beans tomorrow. I can’t stand—”

“One.” 

With that, the door is shut.

Quiet washes over. Beomgyu turns to face you. “Good?” he asks. You give him a pat on the head.

“Good.” He’s like a puppy, you think, and retract your arm before spinning around to look around his living space. “What are we watching?”

It’s your first time inside, and the first thing you notice is how freaking dark it is inside his apartment. The windows are covered by blackout curtains, the television’s blue light and the light bulb from the kitchen island being the only light sources inside. You take the liberty to plop down on the floor in front of the sofa, further welcoming yourself to turn off the game the two were playing to scroll through Netflix.

“Remember the movie we got in trouble for watching?” Beomgyu rouses. He’s in the kitchen and cracking open the cupboards. “It was in eighth grade, I think.”

“The one that our parents thought was porn?” you question. Anyone would have thought it was porn with the word Bodies and the 18+ label on the CD case. “I don’t really recall the plot.”

“Me neither. All I can remember were your pissbaby screams.” 

“I was fourteen!”

He throws you a bag of chips and settles down right next to you. “Yeah, and so was I. Gimme the remote, scaredy cat.”

This guy is a perpetual test on your patience, but you continue to let him test you anyway. Before long, the television is shrouded by the familiar graphic imagery that scared you shitless early into your teenhood, and Beomgyu’s warmth is seeping into your side. His face is outlined by the bright red douses onscreen, melting into the contours of his face. “What are you looking at?” he asks, eyes absentmindedly still on the screen, hand mechanically digging into the bag of chips resting on your lap. “Don’t tell me you’re still scared? Wow, what a baby.”

“Coming from you? Your eyes are still red, Beomgyu. Your big baby tears have stained my shirt.” You swat his hand away. A creak rips out from the speakers. “Maybe you’re the one acting all tough.” Suspenseful music builds up. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your friends and fans that the great Choi Beomgyu is actually— eek!”

There’s a jumpscare. And Beomgyu is laughing his ass off as you unbury your face from his shoulders, ungripping the wrinkled fabric of his shirt with a sharp glare and flushed cheeks. “Not a single word from your whore mouth,” you warn. He’s grinning like crazy as he looks down at you. 

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Neither have you,” you sneer, trying to play off how you flinched at the sudden loud noise from the screen, but he’s probably noticed. How could he not notice every jitter from your bones when your legs are practically tangled together, when he keeps reaching out an arm over you to steal from the chip bag you keep nestled on your side away from him. 

The next moments are filled with nothing but the noise of guts ripping, limps splattering, and blood-curdling screams. 

“Can we watch something else?!”

“No way. Quit being lame and suck it up.”

Yet— in spite of the jumps and squirms and suppressed squeaks from your person— you haven’t felt this comfortable in months.

YOU DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. You don’t like how much of your time he’s wasted. You don’t like how much of your pride he’s forced you to swallow. You don’t like how much of your identity he’s inadvertently stripped away.

You don’t like him for all those things, but here you are— dressed in his department’s colors, carrying a sign with his stupid face printed on, and waiting for the past thirty god damned minutes because he was supposed to be here ages ago for the stupid fucking E-Sports Fest that you’re not even remotely interested in.

If you don’t show up in five, I’m going home, you angrily mash on your phone. You’re risking it all here. If Heeseung sees you in this traitor outfit, he’s going to give you the silent treatment for a week. The bastard still owes you two more weeks of lunch to repent. You can’t lose the upper hand. You can’t lose your leverage.

Your phone buzzes. Had to piss. Be there in a bit, his reply says.

“I don’t need to be informed about your bladder activities, you freak,” you grumble to yourself. Your bright orange ensemble has been catching unwanted attention. That or his face on your sign. Any minute longer, you’re going to bury yourself alive.

“Excuse me.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and see an unfamiliar face. He’s wearing the same shirt color as you. “Are— are you friends with Choi Beomgyu?” he asks. The bastard has collected another fanboy. You feel a throb in the side of your head.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fucking friends with Choi Beomgyu. What about it? What do you want?”

“Whoa, there.” 

The said bastard swoops in and swings an arm over your shoulder and presses you to his side. “Sorry about that,” he tells the guy. Your sneer deepens. Beomgyu gives you a subtle pinch on the arm. “My friend is just grumpy because we lost a game to the engineering department earlier. Anyway, how can I help you?”

Orange number two wanted to ask for a picture with him because he was so cool in the Sudden Attack match earlier. Beomgyu excuses himself for a moment and they take a quick photo. “Tangerines are supposed to look pretty, you know,” your stupid friend announces once he gets back to you. You start making your way to the venue for his next match. It’s in a closed classroom. There’s a projector screen outside to livestream it. “Quit scowling. You’re scaring the kids.”

“That’s the plan,” you tell him. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“If you keep acting like that, I might get the wrong idea,” he says. You look at him. There’s a subtle smile on his face and you don’t like it. “It’s like you only want me for yourse— ow! Joking! Joke— it was a joke! Jeez.”

“Go win, or whatever.” You shove him off seeing that you’ve arrived. It’s already pretty crowded. You’re scanning the area for a good spot to squeeze into.

“I better be hearing your cheers from inside the classroom.”

“Don’t bet on it,” you send him off with a smile. “If you lose, I’m unfriending you.”

“Not the first time you’d be doing it.”

“Fuck off. Good luck.”

He nods with a salute and an expression that mirrors yours before disappearing off into the classroom, and you’re left with two dozen bodies uncomfortably wedged in the hallway just to watch him play a game you don’t even know the god damned rules for. 

You don’t like Beomgyu. His face is something you’re sick of seeing after nearly twenty years of being stuck with him.

You don’t like him. Not even when he seems to always pick you despite having a million other options. Not even when he single-mindedly bulldozes straight into you despite having a whole army cheering for him on the sides after he’s won another game for his department, waiting for your praise and the usual swears you spit on his face with a bright smile.

“Congrats, fuckface,” you say, receiving him in your arms as he engulfs you in a tight hug. You give him a few pats on the back for good measure.

“You’re treating me to dinner, dipshit,” he grins, pulling away, but keeping a hold of your shoulders.

“Spoiled brat,” you sneer.

You don’t like him. He keeps buzzing around you like an immortal mosquito that just doesn’t die even after being swatted away tens of thousands of times. 

“Only to you,” he hums, looping an arm around your neck and starting dragging you along forward. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

You don’t like Choi Beomgyu. 

“Where do you wanna eat?”

You don’t. You really don’t.

모기 / MOGI. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[artsyannierose]

Huskerdust:

Angel and Husk’s love language?

What would they describe as their perfect date?

Who made the first move?

Who is more sentimental?

Who falls asleep first?

Who is more more relaxed/carefree?

Who is always cold?

Who worries more?

What are some non-sexual activities they do together?

What are some things they don’t agree on?

What’s their individual flirting style?

Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

Who is the cuddle initiator?

Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

Who gives piggy back rides to the other?

Who fell in love first?

IM SORRY I CANT DRAW ALL OF THIS I JUST DONT HAVE THAT KIND OF TIME BUT IM JUST GONNA SCRIBBLE MY THOUGHTS DOWN IF THATS OKAY

1) Love Language - Words of Affection

Honestly Physical Touch was running my mind at first but like that’s just so casual for them. That’s like their thing you know, coming home and just flopping down on the bed together.

sleepy snuggles <333

So then if they wanna actually get through to each other im sure they won’t skimp out words of affection and affirmation, plus im an absolute sucker for them speaking in Italian to each other I NEEEEEDDD THAT IN CANON

Also im a slut for the pet namEs plspls THEY ALREADY LITERALLY CALL EACH OTHER “BABY” GUYS THATS NOT VERY PLATONIC OF YOU 🤨 🤨

That remind of this one post like “Husk and Angel call each other ‘baby’ and no one knows whether its romantic or platonic (they don’t know either)” cuz thats so them

2) Perfect Date - Alone Time

Call me basic but I promise you neither of them want a grand extravagant fancy date at a restaurant or something (not that they wouldn’t i can totally see them dressing up for each other and going out) but i feel like their ideal date is just. Each other.

Also i am a SLUT for a date where Husk carries Angel around and the fly over the ring while probably singing some cheesy romantic song like I See the Light i want that. Pls. (Obviously I’m a huge Tangled fan)

3) First Move - Husk

This isn’t anything new but like it’s just in character for Angel to worry about messing something up somehow and would probably flirt with Husk but freak out once it got serious. He probably doesn’t wanna replay that night in Episode 4 where he overstepped Husk’s boundaries so like I’ll bet Husk asks to kiss him first. That’s not to say that both of them are not awkward asf around each other

LET THE OLD MEN ACT LIKE TEENAGE GIRLS IN LOVE 🗣️ 🗣️

4) Sentimental - Angel

Mostly cause he hasn’t had any sort of proper relationship and the one that had any sort of promising future quickly turned into a living hell (f u Valentino). Bro doesn’t know what a healthy relationship is supposed to even look like

So whenever Husk does little, pretty normal things, like wipe his tears or get him some cheap makeup that reminded him of Angel, Angel would turn into jelly, like a water balloon ready to burst honestly.

5) Falling Asleep - UMMM I WANNA SAY HUSK

I feel like it REALLY depends on the day’s events

But i headcanon that Angel has insomnia (perhaps im self-projecting idk shhhh) so only Husk’s purring can help him sleep well. So I think Husk is just the type to like, crash after he flops in bed cuddled up with Angel

6) Relaxed - Angel

Idk this is just in character, Angel’s a party boy for one. Husk would rather chill at the hotel

7) Cold - Angel

Hmmm this just feels right to me. That he wants to cuddle up in Husk’s warm embrace

Besides bro’s literally built like a stick. And wears slutty clothes why wouldn’t he be cold

8) Worries More - Husk

They both worry about each other okay they’re both in dangerous and very unfortunate situations but like Angel gets stuck at work hours upon hours straight yk

Husk never knows when he’ll be home so he gets worried when Angel’s been gone without at least texting him something cause we know the kind of crap Valentino pulls

9) Non-sexual Activities

Cuddling. Self Explanatory.

I WANTTTT HUSK TO FLY AROUND THE PENTAGRAM WITH ANGEL IN HIS ARMS SO BAD. CAN THAT JUST BE A NIGHTLY THING FOR THEM. LIKE A NIGHT WALK BUT HUSK CAN FLY

Angel grooming Husk’s wings anyone?? I want. Pls.

10) Disagreements

Never really thought of that

I feel like Husk doesn’t believe he can get redeemed while Angel is slowly believing that redemption is possible. Both eventually believe Angel can get redeemed but Angel is convinced that if he can get redeemed so can Husk. Husk though, he's full of self loathing and no faith sooooooo yeah

11) Flirting Style

Angel - Words. For sure. He’ll never skimp out on reminding Husk just how sexy that kitty is

Husk - Physical. SORRY IM SUCH A SLUT FOR HUSK TEASING ANGEL AND TURNING THE. ANGEL. DUST. INTO A FLUSTERED BEGGING MESS. LIKE I NEEEEEED THAT

12) Clothing - Angel

considering husk doesn’t wear anything but pants….and angels clothes would NOT fit him I promise

(They def had a night where Angel shoved husk into all his outfits)

Angel would buy matching tshirts I promise you that

anyway I feel like he’d steal clothes more yuh but tbh I don’t think he’d fit into it💀💀

HE WOULD STEAL THAT FUCK MONDAYS MUG THO

HE ABSOLUTELY WOULD

HUSK WOULD BE LOOKING ALL OVER FOR IT AND ANGEL’S JUST IN BED LIKE “teehee”

13) Cuddle Initiator - HUSKKK

DONT GET ME WRONG ANGEL DEF INITIATES SOMETIMES BUT I WANNA IMAGINE HUSK JUST BEING SO HAPPY TO FINAAALLLYY CUDDLE ANGEL AFTER A SHOWER FROM A LONG DAY OF WORK

Husk loves the way Angel is at complete peace and relaxation once he falls into Husk’s arms, like a limp noodle istg

of course Angel feels like it’s heaven and prolly passes out pretty quickly

besides ain’t it canon that husk likes cuddling

GIVE THE OLD MAN SOME CUDDLES 🗣️🗣️🗣️

14) Staying up Late

Tbh this could go either way bc Angel comes home late from work anyway

and I’m sure there are days Husk comes late from errands from Alastor

if we’re talking pure personalities tho Husk would be up doing smth while Angel being the drama queen he is would be moaning and whining in bed like “cOooME hErE iMM sOoOOo LoNELy aNd inComPLeTe WiTHouT yOuuUUuU”

15) Piggy Back Rides - Husk

Nobody argue with me Angel just bounces onto Husk at random times and demands he carry him around

ALTHOUGHHHH A SWITCH WOULD BE FUN YK ANGEL BEGS BEGS BEGS HUSK IF HE’LL LET HIM GIVE HIM A PIGGY BACK RIDE AND OF COURSE HUSK CAN’T SAY NO SO HE OBLIGES

16) Who fell in Love?

OHHHHH DONT GET ME STARTS ON THIS

DONT….

ITS CAUSE I COULD TALK SO LONG OF THEM FALLING IN LOVEEEEE

Ill try to shorten it but BASICALLY Angel definitely was lusting after Husk (and i am convinced that Angel has a thing for men with deep sexy voices and Husk has the deepest and sexiest voice hes ever heard so he was smitten) from the moment Alastor teleported him into the hotel, and kept trying to hit on him. However after episode 4, Angel began to see Husk as a person rather than someone he needed to win over or someone who was just playing hard to get.

Husk on the other hand was first disgusted and annoyed by Angel’s tendencies, and he even thought he understood him without Angel ever opening up to him. After ep 4 however he also starting wanting to actually get to know Angel as a person. I wanna say cheesy stuff like Angel fell first but Husk fell harder…but I don’t believe that the case

They both fell for each other equally hard and both are absolutely smitten with the other bro…it took them a sec to get to know each other but they are in it deep now. Angel is absolutely in love with Husk and desperately wants to remind him that he doesn’t have to go through his trauma with Alastor alone, and he wants Husk to learn his self-worth and he won’t shut up about it. Husk loves Anthony through and through, and that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Angel Dust. It’s just certain aspects of Angel are horrendously fake that Husk cannot stand, but he still loves all parts of Angel Dust. Angel has a little easier time opening up to Husk than vice versa but that doesn’t mean it comes easy. So Husk also wants to make sure that Angel feels loved and he feels like he's worth more than everything Valentino tells him. And he wants Angel to feel like he has control over his life, not that hes only good for being used up (gosh im thinking about Paranoid DJ’s Use Me Up i LOVEEE THAT SONG)

And we all agree angel has self-worth issues right

Anyways its been like a week since i got this ask so ill shut up now

I HOPE THIS SUFFICES ANON IM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG AND I DONT EVEN HAVE ANY DOODLES BUT IVE BEEN REAAALLLY BUSY

AND I GOT AN ASK ABT HUMAN HUSKERDUST SO I GOTTA DO THAT

BYEBYE <333

[kooktrash]

ALL YOU WANT!TAEHYUNG PLSPLS

ugh I forgot how much I love this couple 🤭 also them both being rich and lowkey a little stuck up so Taehyung doesn’t have a problem doing what y/n wants even if he won’t outright say he’ll side with y/n even if it might be an abuse of power.

drabble for: ALL YOU WANT

warnings: none. wc 1.7k problems at work

Despite what everyone says now, when you first met Taehyung you really did not expect things to move so quickly. Sure, at first it was extremely bumpy, your personalities clashed a bit but because the two of you both seemed determined to at least try and see where it could go, you stuck it out. It made you realize that for some reason the two of you seemed to work very well together and that’s probably why you’ve been dating so long without much of a problem.

One of the only things the two of you seem to struggle with is aligning your schedules together. You’re still in school and Taehyung is a business man so it’s very hard to find time together and you still live separately. Your only chances to see him are when he’s able to drop you off on campus or when you visit him at work so more often than not you’re visiting his office.

Today happened to be one of those days and like the receptionists in the lobby have been taught to do, they let you up without much of a fuss. Your only problem in the office happens to be his secretary who never fails to give you some sort of look that made it clear she wasn’t too fond of you. It’s not in your personality to ge so bothered by another woman—especially one who’s just your boyfriend’s employee—but you just really hate being looked down on by someone who had absolutely no reason to do it. It’s her audacity that really gets on your nerves.

“Oh, Miss L/n?” Yoona spoke up the second you got off the elevator to his floor where it was only his office, the secretary's desk, and a few conference rooms. Your heels stopped mid-clack as you stood in front of her desk where she had a charmingly fake smile on her face. You lifted a brow waiting to hear what she had to say.

“Mr. Kim still isn’t back from his meeting yet,” she said and it’s not that what she said was rude but it’s the tone she said it in. You just smiled, “That’s alright, I’ll just wait in his office.”

You’ve been working on being nice lately. You’re not going to say it’s because of Taehyung but it sort of is. It’s not that he’s trying to change you but some things just happen naturally and you’ve slowly become more mature. This does not mean that you’ve changed completely though and you realize that right now that Yoona is smiling at you in a way that really annoys the fuck out of you.

It’s not a genuine smile and you’re actually very sure you’ve never gotten a real smile from her. It’s like she does not think Taehyung should be with you or she’s just had something against you since the beginning and you’re really getting tired of it. Still, you’re going to try and be nice for the sake of Taehyung and just head to his office biting your tongue.

“Well, you see, he’s been gone for a while and I’m not sure when he’ll be back and I just don’t want you stuck waiting all evening when you must have plans, you’re a busy person aren’t you?” Yoona asked with a tilt of her head stopping you from walking away.

You couldn’t help but smile but it was far from being happy. You were smiling because she really thinks she has any sort of say in what you do. You turned back with a smile, Cartier bracelets hitting the glass counter with a small clank as you smiled down at her, “You’re his secretary and you don’t know when he’ll be back?”

She smiled at you, “Unfortunately that seems to be the case.”

This time you couldn’t stop the laugh in disbelief that you led out as you looked toward the elevator as if worried Taehyung would step off of it just in time to hear you and Yoona talk, “You don’t like me much, do you Yoona?”

Yoona didn’t even flinch as she said, “How I feel shouldn’t matter, Miss L/n, you’re the one dating my boss.”

“Say that again,” you smiled a perfect smile that made her look confused.

“Excuse me, what?”

“Say what you just said again, I really think you need to hear it more clearly for you to comprehend,” you told her, resting your head on your hand with your elbow against the front counter looking innocently sweet.

Her smile became a bit more strained as she repeated only the end, “Miss L/n, you’re the one dating my boss.”

Just then the elevator dinged and it wasn’t hard for you both to realize it could only be Taehyung and yet it did not stop you from talking even knowing he was walking up with a smile on his face at the sight of you.

“So why don’t you do yourself a favor and remember that the next time you see me because I really don’t want to have this conversation again,” You said confidently, “You’re in an easily replaceable position and if you think I can’t get you fired and completely blacklisted just because I didn’t like the way you looked at me then you have a lot to learn about the kind of person I am.”

Yoona’s smile slowly dropped but yours only grew wider, “I really hope you have a great rest of your day, Secretary Yoona.”

You stood straight as you released a breath in relief at finally giving just a small hint of how you feel toward her and looked down the hall at your boyfriend who was coming over. You couldn’t even bring yourself to smile at the gorgeous sight of him in the Gucci tie you bought just last weekend. Instead, you rolled your eyes and turned on your heel toward his office.

It took absolutely zero seconds for Taehyung to understand the look you just gave him and it made his smile slowly drop. His steps seemed to slow as he watched his secretary turn to him looking flustered bowing to him in greeting. He would be lying if he said he didn’t catch on to whatever must be happening between you and Yoona but he really hoped it was just his imagination. He doesn’t understand it or why it would bother you but he also knows that it’s been going on for a while and he’s been waiting bc for you to bring it up to him and urging him to fire her or something.

If you haven’t brought it up yet, it must be that you’ve been holding it in and trying to ignore it but you can’t anymore. Now you’re doing what you used to do and looking at him like he’s done something wrong.

He looked down at Yoona hearing his office door slam as she tried greeting him, “Is everything alright here?”

“Of course sir, Miss L/n will be waiting for you in your office like usual,” Yoona said with a bitter smile that made his brows furrow. He nodded his head ready to go see what happened but stopped himself before he could leave, “Miss Yoona?”

“Yes?”

“I would like to commend you for being able to manage with any of my personal matters, I’m sure they could be a bit troublesome,” Taehyung said in a surprisingly considerate voice as he looked down at her with a stern look, “But if you find yourself unable to act accordingly with my guests then maybe we should look into a change in position—you know… for your sake?”

Yoona seemed stunned for a second. Kim Taehyung had always been a kind yet stern employer but that’s what most people admired him for. He was very business oriented and could separate his personal life from his work life but maybe that’s why this is a bit of a surprise for everyone. He was like the untouchable boss everyone admired from afar but ever since you’ve started showing up things clearly changed and some people aren’t fond of it. Yoona never expected her charismatic boss to say this sort of thing. All she could do was nod her head at the thought of possibly getting relocated or fired at that—all because she thought she was confident in her professional relationship with her boss.

“I’ll keep that in mind for a few days, alright? Just to think of what’s best for everyone this might affect,” Taehyung said finally and she understood clearly. He’s implying that he’ll talk about it with you [not that your opinion should matter about her job]and in the end still do what you want even if it meant Taehyung wasn’t being professional either. It made her realize that maybe you two were more alike on the inside than she first thought.

With that he left to his office with a smile that didn’t disappear even as he saw you sitting on his leather chair. A small sigh escaped his lips as he shut the door firmly, “This isn’t the greeting I’m used to, love.”

You didn’t respond, acting as if you were too occupied on your phone to acknowledge him, “Sorry, I’m making plans for dinner with Jungkook,” you casually said not bothering to look at him even as he stood in front of you now determined to get your attention. He had a clear view of your phone from how he looked down at you and his jaw tightened. His hand fell to your hair as he brushed it back essentially making you look up tilting your head back. He looked intimidating right about now, standing in front of you in his office with his expensive suit on.

He smiled while caressing your cheek, “You’re not making plans tonight without me so why don’t you put your phone down so we can talk about what’s made you ignore me.”

“I’m not ignoring you, we’re talking right now,” you argued but he didn’t let up.

“You ignored me just now, out in the hall and when I came in you wouldn’t even look at me until I did this. You think that’s not ignoring me?” He asked with a tilt of his head, “You know how I feel, if something is bothering you, say it to me and I’ll figure out what I can do.”

You didn’t say anything making him sigh once more, “Does it have to do with Miss Yoona?”

::.

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[ladyofwinterfellxx]

hiii!!! can you plspls write something fluffy w a gn reader for dylan lenivy? it can be any plot you want, just pls make it fluffy!!! ty !! <3

Scraped knees and lollipops

Pairings: Dylan Lenivy x GN!reader

Word count: 955

Request: Yes | No

Series name: The Quarry

Genre: Fluff, confession, pre-in game events

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of wounds

Synopsis: Dylan’s scrapped knees and palms result in a confession. (the time is set a month into summer camp, reader works in the nurse station as camp nurse.)

Request navigation

Authors note: Dylan is such a baby I love him sm. I hope this is okay, I thought it was pretty cute but idk if Dylan seems ooc or not, I tried my best though. I didn't really know how to end it lol

Working as The camp nurse could be boring sometimes, but it kept you pretty busy most of the time. From scraped knees from falling on hikes, bruised elbows, and even a broken finger once, the kids certainly kept you busy. But no one kept you busier than the camp announcer, Dylan Lenivy. Dylan came to you with every bruise, scratch, or bump that he received, whining about how “you always fix it the best.”. Not that you’d ever complain though, you secretly enjoyed him coming to you, that just meant more time with the man you’ve had a crush on all summer. Little did you know he liked you too.

You were putting away the new pack of gauze bandages Mr. Hackett had brought you when he came in, the bell above the door chiming as he sauntered in. You heard a faint wince as the door shut.

“Y/nnnnn,” he whined as he dragged his feet dramatically against the floor, making his way over to you. You chuckled as you set the bandage in your hand on the table in front of you, turning to face the boy.

“And what did you do this time, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the pout adoring his face.

“I may have tripped on the hike?” he smiled bashfully, raising his hands reveal his scraped palms. You sigh and shake your head as you notice his equally scraped knees.

“What am I ever going to do with you Dylan, I’m gonna have to wrap you in bubble wrap if you keep hurting yourself,” you say, voice laced with humor. He chuckles shyly, raising his arms in a shrug.

“Have a seat, clumsy” you turn to the counter and begin digging out the supplies you needed as Dylan sat on the all too familiar chair, silently watching as you walked over with the kit.

“Hey at least I have the coolest nurse to help me, I’d he helpless without you” he snarks, meeting your e/c eyes.

“Helpless is right, your gonna be a wreak once summers over” you smile, gently taking his hands in yours as you look over the damage. He hisses softly as you press on a particularly tender spot.

“alright, hands don’t look too bad, you know the drill by now” you mutter, reaching over for the peroxide, gently pouring some on a pad. ”This is gonna sting, I know.” he says cheekily, wincing as you place the pad onto his right palm.

After repeating the process on his other hand, you gently wrapped them with a bandage. You grab a fresh pad along with a pair of tweezers before kneeling, gently coaxing his leg to extend with a hand on his calf.

“This parts probably gonna suck a bit, just hold still.” you say as you bring the tweezers up, gently pulling a stuck rock off the wound. He gently bit his tongue, squirming in his seat slightly.

“You’ve gotta stay still sweetheart or I’m gonna poke ya, that’ll just suck more,” you say, running a soothing hand up his forearm. His cheeks go red at the nickname.

“But it stiiings” he huffs, pouting and crossing his arms dramatically while pulling his leg away, causing you to chuckle.

“tell ya what, if you be good and sit still so I can get this done faster, I’ll give you a lollipop, sound good? you cooe mockingly, feeding into his childish antics. He smiles bashfully as he extends his leg back to you.

“Fineee, I susppose that’ll due” he sighs sarcastically before giggling at himself.

“Aaand done, see that wasn’t so bad was it?” you cooe, standing and putting bandages and peroxide in the medical kit before closing the lid.

“No, it never is with you”, he mutters, smiling shyly as you bring over the mug filled with lollipops.

“You got lucky, I just refilled it so you have first dibs” He takes a blue one from the mug and took the wrapper off before looking up at you, his doe brown eyes adorning a loving look.

“Thank you y/n” he purrs, popping the lolli into his mouth.

“No worries.” you reply, setting the mug down before taking the kit and putting it back on it’s shelf.

“I mean it though, I appreciate you putting up with me.” he says, chuckling slightly.

“It’s no problem Dylan, really. I like when you come to see me.” you lean on the counter, scanning his face for a reaction.

“Really?” he asks, eyes widening slightly.

“Yea, I uh- I really like you Dylan..” you mutter bashfully, looking down at the floor. you look up when you hear him sigh seemingly with relief.

“I really like you too y/n,” he smiles, standing from the chair. “shit I can’t believe you beat me to confessing” he huffs defeatedly. You giggle as he wraps his arms around you in a hug. ”It’s alright, some of us are slower then others” you tease, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I take it back I no longer like you” he snarks sarcastically, ruffling your hair gently.

“oh no! how could I ever win back your love Mr. Lenivy!” you gasp, playfully putting your hand over your heart.

“Nope the damage has been done, your too much of a butthead to win back my love” his hand shoots to his forehead dramatically as he gently pushes you away. You meet eyes, causing each other to break out in a fit of giggles.

He smiles before pulling you back in a hug, kissing your temple

The extensive use of medical supplies on him was definitely worth it.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

Okay but on another Pete thot bc I’m obsessed

Imagine him with a bunny hybrid reader?

Writing (young) remus Lupin With a kitten hybrid rn

The way he’d constantly play with their tail or ears!! Bumping into their tail ‘accidentally’ just to hear them yelp. Their ears oh god their ears! He’d constantly want to brush though your hair just to once again ‘accidentally’ pull on the base of their ears. We already know he has a really decent stamina but since bunnies are in hear 50% of the year I can just see him literally being wrung dry so when they’d go over to ‘study’ he’d use toys on them. Making them ride a dildo stuck to his floor or him holding a viberator against them until they go stupid. Of course he’d be taking pictures during it too.

THE REMUS LUPIN FIC OMGSS IM GOING INSANE ARE U KIDDING ME THAT IS LITERALLY THE HOTTEST THING IVE EVER HEARD IF YOU DONT WRITE THIS BABY I MIGHT HAVE TO CAUSE GOD DAMN-

PLSPLS I NEED IT NOW

[shotosprincess]

When he loves me — Iwa ♡︎ Oikawa

LISTEN TO: “ CLOUD 9 “ — BEACH BUNNY

ART: UNKNOWN ( i found it as a sticker on picsart since i couldnt find any good iwaoi screencaps so if yk who the artist is plspls lmk !! ty !! )

｡･:*:･-: ✧ :,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

pairing: iwa x oikawa

summary: iwa shyly plays oikawa a song he wrote on a whim ,, and years later ,, after they fell apart ,, oikawa attends one of iwa’s concerts and hears their song,, the song,, once more .

genre: angst + fluff !! <3 ugh i love oikawa my bby but i absolutely love him and iwa together sm too ajjdjjf

a/n: 3am writing for comfort innit (•̀ᴗ•́)و smhsmh it’s lowkey so dramatic ?? idk why i was feeling so melancholic ?? but i live for the yearning anyways lmao <//3

“ Hey...wanna...hear something I’ve been working on? “

Iwa’s voice shifted to one of a far softer tone, unusually uncertain of himself as he gripped the bedsheets beneath him in an anxious hold, turning away from Oikawa whilst a deep vermillion blush tainted his shy-stricken face.

The hazel-haired setter lifted his mouth into a gentle smile, skin mirroring a similar red to Iwa’s. His head lolled to the side, and Iwa swore he felt something flutter within him. The fist which he clutched the bedsheets within closed even further.

“ Sure, Iwa-chan! “

A hard gulp. Iwa swallowed his nerves down, fingers hovering over the strings of his freshly-purchased guitar, hesitant. Trembling, even.

Light wisps of brown swept just over Oikawa’s eyes as he put down the volleyball he had been mindlessly spinning, and covered Iwa’s hands with his own. He looked up with a reassuring grin, deepened-honey gaze colliding with one of the enchanting midnight sky.

“ It’s okay. It’s just me. But of course, you don’t have to play if you don’t wan— “

Iwa swats his hand away. “ Of course I wanna, dumbass! “ He barked.

With a frustrated huff, his fingers find a home amongst the sound as they begin to delicately strum the translucent strings. His eyes fell closed, lost in the music, albeit fairly cliche, as he wordlessly played the song which was most special to him.

For what reason it held such a cherished place in his heart, he did not know. Not truly, at least. Admittedly, he had written it purely on a whim, clutching onto the fleeting remnants of a foreign euphoric high. The crazed rush of fingers furiously clacking against the keyboard filled the silence of his room, lasting well into the evening. He had so much to say, so much to express, and yet it was only through the words appearing on the screen in which he could ever hope to communicate it.

He had never even planned on sharing it. After all, it was merely a crappy, rushed song put together purely by the rawness of an unknown emotion, and during ungodly hours of the night out of all times. It was nothing special, really.

To him, at least.

And yet in a hushed, timid tone, he began to sing:

“ I don’t wanna seem the way I do...but I’m confident when I’m with you... “

Oikawa’s lips parted in sheer awe. The delicate swirls of the instrumental blended flawlessly into the angelic quality of Iwa’s singing. His muscles tensed. He shook it away.

What the hell is this? Was he...nervous? No, no, it can’t be. This is Oikawa-fucking-Tooru we’re talking about!

He could do nothing but stare intently in a silent adoration as he allowed his heartbeat to meld with the smoothness of the melody, sweeping him out of Iwa-chan’s bedroom and into a whole other universe entirely. One where there exists no pain, no sadness, no fear. One where tears dried before they could even splatter upon the ground. One where everything was happy and perfect and...good.

—

IWA

Five years have passed, yet I miss him all the same. If anything, the ache has only grown to, somehow, prove itself increasingly unbearable over the time we’ve spent apart. My stare falls upon my guitar. Not the new one, which is this modern, flashy model with a bold red design, but my first-ever guitar, boasting its worn-out strings and dulled body. The hole in my heart digs itself impossibly deeper.

We had dated not long after that night—the night I played my song to him, and suddenly it became our song. We would whip it out like a handy party trick whenever we’d hangout with the rest of the team, and it was...nice to say the very least. Well, while it lasted, of course. Highschool love, teenage love, is constantly fleeting. Temporary. That was my philosophy at least, until Oikawa Tooru appeared and changed everything. I disregarded every sense of rationality, and all for the blissful rush of romance which he offered. The sneaking out, the small notes snuck into each other’s lockers, the way he draped his jacket over me when I got cold, the tender kisses shared in a darkened room.

I loved it. All of it. And when I lost him, I missed him too. All of him.

I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, though. After all, teenage love is but a transient feeling, is it not? I had to drill the reiteration of my old motto back into my head when we split, so that I may never allow myself to yield to the temptations of love, or at least the attractive promise of one, ever again. Eventually, we had to go our separate ways. He pursued volleyball, and I chased relentlessly after a different growing passion of mine, though honestly rather unexpected; music.

And now here I am. Sitting backstage at my own show, waiting patiently for my cue. My foot taps a random rhythm against the floor as I mentally debate with myself whether or not my choice for the opening song truly was the best option.

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

He might be watching.

Fair, but would he even recognize me? Does he even remember me at all? I mean, it’s been so long...

I think he’d remember something as sentimental as the song you first played him. I mean, you were the first guy he ever dated.

Yeah, keyword: “ dated “. He’s probably moved on by now.

Shit, do you think he’s found someone new already? What if he brought them to the show?

Nah, nah. That’s highly unlikely. Impossible, even. The latter, that is. It’s not exactly that popular of a show.

Right, you’re right. So there’s nothing to worry about. Hakuna-fuckin-matata, right?

I suck in a sharp breath as the lights come on, laughing dryly.

Hakuna-fuckin-matata.

—

OIKAWA

My hands fiddle with one another as I push my way past the busy crowd to find a spot amongst the front row. A cheery girl with astonishingly-saturated red hair and an almoat-overwhelming brightness about her, greets me. I scoff, amused.

A fangirl, no doubt. Charming.

“ Oikawa! Ohmygoshohmygosh, Oikawa Tooru!! Hi!! I’m—I’m— “

I glance at the front row, which is only a few steps away, as her blubbered words start to blur together. I laugh.

“ A fan, right? Want my autograph or something? A picture, maybe? “

Her eyes light up vastly and she begins to bounce up and down with the same enthusiasm I’ve noticed to be common among practically all fangirls.

“ YES! Ohmygosh, yesyesyesYES!! “

My grin widens as I click my blue pen, which I carry around for autographs ( oh, the pains of being famous ), and hurriedly sign my name on her collared shirt. It was a fairly pretty garment, I’ll admit, but at this moment I didn’t really care, and I’m sure neither did she, judging by the way she squealed excitedly and took a spam of what had to be a million-and-one selfies with it.

I finally find a place among the jumping people at the front, taking in the atmosphere. The lights dim, and brighter white ones turn on in their place.

The show is about to start.

—

IWA

“ Hey, everyone. I— “ The mic whines with feedback. I wince, wrapping my free hand around it and trying again.

“ I’m—I’m opening with a song that’s very dear to me. I wrote it way back in highschool, but it’s always stuck with me, kinda like a safety net...of sorts. I uh, hope you enjoy. “

Shit, why am I being so damn awkward? I’ve never been this awkward before a show. Maybe it’s because of that damn opening song. Oh well. Too late to back out now.

Irritated, I push the thought away, wetting my lips as the drowning claps and whoops from the crowd cheer me on. My hand hovers just over the strings. It’s shaking. No matter. I close my eyes, and imagine him holding them. Him encompassing my hands within the warmth of his, just like he did all those years, which were now lost in the past. Him looking at me, him telling me it’s okay. Him.

I breathe all my nerves out.

Him.

And I begin to play.

The awkwardness melts away almost instantaneously as I pour every dripping ounce of my heart out into the song, the music swelling wildly with every emotion I had forced in for the dreariness of these five years. My eyes shoot open when the chorus hits. I feel like I’m king of the world.

I catch a familiar set of eyes. Richly brown. Deep.

Oh shit.

My breath hitches when I realize who they belong to; Him. His. He-

No, no, it couldn’t be. Could it?

It felt too real, as if I’ve somehow managed to reduce his very existence to nothing but romanticized self indulgent daydreams of what we once had, woven into the vast vagueness of song lyrics with a naïve hope of what could’ve been. And now here he was, at my concert of all places, for god knows what reason. The colourful lights fell upon his face in the most flattering manner, though admittedly I suppose anything would be flattering on him either way. But under this light especially, at my concert, he looked nothing short of perfect. Of lovely.

But of course he was. This was Oikawa-fucking-Tooru, after all.

The chorus hits with a sharp accent. I belt with all that I am, for the boy who took a rough sketch of a dream and made it reality, for the boy who found an unmatched sense of home among those of his highschool volleyball team, for the boy who wound up so foolishly falling in love with his best friend. For him, for my fans, but most of all, for me.

“ But when he loves me, I feel like I’m floating, when he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody— “

I maintain eye contact with him. It’s scary, burning holes into my tattered soul, which I had pieced together so carefully with cathartic lyrics scratched into the pages of creased notebooks. I’m secretly scared that his gaze will somehow break it all down again. But that’s when I finally understand; it’s him. This, this song, it’s about him. It’s always been about him. There will be no one else, could be no one else for me. That...sheer elation, the unfiltered emotion which sparked this song to begin with—I understood now. That was love. More specifically, love which my chest held for Oikawa. It’s as if I’ve been harshly disillusioned to see what I’d been unconsciously denying all these years, seeing him here. It’s always been Oikawa. How could I not have known? After all, I’m constantly recalling the day he held me in a tight embrace after one of our best matches, happy tears staining my damp jersey as he whispered in my ear the praise I’ve subconsciously always wished to hear.

“ You did good. “

Though it seems painfully mundane, simple to anyone else, it was...different, coming from his lips, hearing it in his voice. I took that compliment and kept it close to me for all eternity, immortalizing it within the varying notes of this song. I stare right back at him with a newfound fervour, an unknown intent, a epiphanic strength.

“ Even when we fade eventually to nothing, you will always be my favourite form of lovely. “

His eyes widen.

—

OIKAWA

My heart clenches as Iwa freely powers through the rest of the song. But during this moment, it feels as though it was created solely for us. As if the universe, as if fate itself had decided that despite the harshness of this world, and every little force fighting to keep us apart, this one moment, if anything, was ours. Truly ours. Our song, our moment. Ours. Time suspended itself indefinitely as the onyx hearth of his gaze finally met with mine. Unexpectedly enough, it stayed there.

And everything fell into place.

The song didn’t take me to a paradise without tears, or pain, or sorrow anymore. It took me to a place with Iwa in it. I realize now that...I want the tears. I want the pain. I want the grief. I want the good and the bad and the light and the dark, so long as I can have Iwa there with me through it all. I want him. All of him. I’ve want to love him enough to love his “ unglam “ moments and his admirable aspects all the same. I want to be there with him through every body-wrecking tear, every hearty laugh, and every glimmer of happiness. I want to be able to see the face he makes during a scary movie, to open an umbrella for him during the rain. I want to see the sunlight glow upon his cheek, I want to count the stars with him until I fall asleep. I want everything about him, for to me, he is everything. And it’s this song...this damned song which brought it all back.

It was ours. And I realize now...it was about...me. I mean, I’ll admit that I’ve always been a little more on the conceited side, but how could you deny it? It had to be. It had to. Had to. I wanted it to, at least. I wanted it to be about me so desperately, it sent a cold pain through my chest. A single, lonely tear falls down my cheek as the crowd around me erupts into a sea of laughter and off-tune singing from the audience.

What if it wasn’t? I mean, you guys broke up. You told him you moved on. Yes, it was a lie to lessen the pain, but he didn’t know that. What if it was about someone else completely and you’d just been an idiot this whole time? What if—

The concert comes to a close much faster than I thought it would, much faster than I would’ve ever wished for it to. I don’t know what I’m doing, what I’m thinking, but my legs move before I even have a chance to question them. I’ve always been one to think before acting, hence why I’m such a star on the court, but this time, my emotions seem to be taking over. I don’t know what’s come over me, what this unusual, hot feeling is. It’s exciting and intimidating all at once, and I hate it because I know what it must be. In a hot flash, I find myself standing at the door of Iwa’s changing room. How many bodyguards I must have recklessly shoved out of the way to get here in the blur of adrenaline, I don’t even want to begin to think about.

My hand freezes over the door. “ Iwa “ is engraved in bold gold letters with a deeply-etched star sticking out at the bottom. Taking a deep breath, I knock frantically.

“ I-Iwa-chan? It’s uh...it’s Oikawa. “

—

IWA

I pause in the midst of buttoning up my shirt. A solid three are left undone. But his voice...how could I ignore it? Ignore him? I haven’t heard his voice in what feels like eternity, but I’d be kidding myself if I had said I’d forgotten it. The constant yearning was always so irritating. Such a pain. At least it made for decent music, I mean, I’ve been booking shows. But alas, one problem before another.

“ O-Oikawa? “ I slowly pace to the doorknob as I twist it open.

Holy shit.

It is him after all. He hasn’t changed a bit. He remains the charming, handsome man I remember him to be, even after all this time has passed.

“ How’d you get—why are you here? “

“ Iwa, there’s...there’s just...there’s something I need to ask. “

“ Huh? “

“ That song...our song.... “

“ Shit, right! I, uh...sorry. I didn’t ask you about it because I honestly didn’t expect you to show up at all. It’s been what, five years? “ I stumble subtly over my words, rubbing the back of my neck.

He turns away sheepishly. Almost...longingly, even.

“ Yeah...it has. “

He clicks his tongue.

“ Who, uh...who was that song about? The curiosity’s been eating at me. “

A heat rises to my cheeks. A pause.

“ I—It—Ugh, fuck it. “

I’ve never been the best at talking directly to Oikawa, not since I realized that what I felt for him extended to something past the bounds of friendship. So I decided to do the only thing I knew to do in that moment—show him instead.

My lips crash against his as he slams the door behind him. The palpable tension between us is shattered immediately, and everything is faded out into insignificance. All that matters is the man in my arms, the man I’d been longing so desperately, so hopelessly for all this fucking time. I kiss him against the smoothness of the door, hands immediately trailing to his soft locks. I twirl and twine them as I see flashes, bright hues of heaven itself. His lips upon mine are the most perfect fit. His touch is painfully intoxicating, and I show him, wordlessly, with an unparalleled fervour—just who the song was about. He melts into it, matching my energy with a foreign sense of passion.

—

OIKAWA

“ Do you think...the universe is gonna try to separate us again? “ I ask softly, voice barely even a whisper. Tears wet my lashes at the very thought of being without him again. For those five years, though I was living my dream...it didn’t feel complete. Not without him. I blink them away aggressively, focusing on the night sky above us. My head is resting in his lap, and we’re simply...existing together beneath the curtain of darkened pools which hung above our twined bodies.

Iwa strokes my hair nonchalantly as he interlocks his fingers with mine. “ Of course. It always will. But we found each other didn’t we? And even after...even after this life has passed and we’re reduced to nothing but ash, I’m convinced we’ll meet again. One way or another. “

He tucks a straying tuft of hair from brushing my lashes.

“ Even then...even then you’ll still be my favourite form of lovely. Or whatever. “ He scoffs at his own over-poetic response, looking away with a tiny smirk.

“ Okay, Mr. Songwriter! “ I tease, nudging his side in a playful manner.

He rolls his eyes, bending down to kiss me once more.

For the first time in a long time, I feel complete. I’m on cloud 9.

[kiainspace]

1, 12, 27 😊✌️

Thank you!!

1. what song makes you feel better? Dancing Queen - ABBA

12. how are you?Bored. Super bored and worried. Rn Italy is in a shitty place for the Covid-19 emergency and we’re stuck at home till we don’t know when. I’m sad because my bf lives in Rome and we can’t see each other in person. So bored, worried and sad :(

27. which character would you want to be? The Doctor’s companion!!! I know quite dangerous but YES PLS

Send me a soft ask pls? Help a very bored person plspls

[gavetawrtes]

okay i am literally in the process of leaving my job rn, college only starts in February and i want some plots so pls check out the plots here under the read more and if anything sparks your interest pls like this so i can message you or just message me !

mumu

something based on friends ?? a tiny thing where we get 3 characters each and they can be heavily based on the friends character or just a little bit ? then we can have like relationships between them . friendships ? old flings ? siblings ? different dynamics for each of them and threads with more than one at the same time. they always go to the same coffee shop together or they are always in each others apartment. a has a thing for b but b is oblivious and b has always been bffs with c and so on. honestly it can be so much fun and so pure ? pls i deserve nice things

oKay but like wizards in a wizarding school ? ? i would say hogwarts but that world is a mess right now so we could make our own lil world? where like we decide the subjects and the kind of magic and all that. it could have aspects from any magical world we want like idk hogwarts house or like different types of magics ( physical, natural, Illusion, healing, psychic ) from the tv show the magicians. and honestly whatever else we want ? we can throw our lil characters into it and populate this little world with tiny plots like ‘our houses are eternal rivals and i intend to crush you at this quidditch game but also pls go to the winter formal with me bc you are the prettiest person in school ?’ & ‘my family has been historically amazing at physical magic but i’m really bad at this. you seem amazing pls teach me so people will stop making fun of me’ & ‘i didn’t know magic existed and now i do and this is all new to me how is the frog talking and why are you not scared at any of this ? ? ‘ && ‘whhy do you think it’s cute to be the skater punk version of magical world and fly standing up in your broom ? you could seriously get hurt ? and see there you got hurt. what do you mean ?  help you with healer magic ? no i don’t want you to get expelled but we should call a teacher !’ and honestly whatever else you can think of 

okay but like a group of high school friends and their older selves ?? ?  ?? ??  like we could set all the high school threads in the 80s ?? ? ? ?? ? and have different personalities ? and then we also have threads like in 2018 years later when they see each other again in the high school reunion ? just ? pls? the high school sweethearts who signed the divorce papers three years ago and we are doing both the thread in which they fell in love and the one where they see each other again for the first time after the divorce. the high school rebel who became the local sheriff and the girl he loved who used to be the biggest nerd who had a thing over their last summer. we are doing both their wild adventures and them seeing each other again for the first time bc she moved back with her parents. the two best friends who remained best friends for all those years and they are seeing all of those people again and it’s just like ‘oh man glad this didn’t Help to us’ and we can have them as teens bickering and making fun of their teacher and them years later at the bar like ‘i miss having adventures like we used to’ there are so many possibilities ? for like people who grew disillusioned with their lives ? or people who got really successful . ? people who stopped talking altogether ? people who remained friends forever ?? ? plspls it could be so nice

Okay but a group of old immortals/wizards/witches ? something a long the lines of the originals but they are not all siblings or the hogwarts funders but there is no school involved. like they have known each other for centuries and they have been friendly-ish. they probably got a hand in many important world changing events in history and like maybe they have to come together and stop the apocalypse every 500 years or one of them call them all up and it’s like ‘hey guys so skarsgård is going all ruler of the world again and i can’t stop him alone bc he is more powerful than me so could you pls? help me?‘ ? ? ? ? there are so many possibilities. we could play with different types of characters like ( one wizard who spent the last 100 years in a hole on the ground and he is just done with humanity while there is another one traveling around and trying to write a beautiful book about humans and life but it lowkey sounds like a fake deep tweet ) or like hundred years old relationships where they go ‘making me jealous in 1954 didn’t work why do you think it’s gonna work now?’ or smth like ‘baby we have been together for 3 centuries and you still make me blush’ OR OR  we could get more into plot like half of them go ‘i’m done with saving humans every hundred years. maybe skarsgård is right and we Should rule the world’ while the other half goes ‘what ? no humans are amazing? our job is to save them ’ and just those super mega powerful wizards fighting each other ? pls we could go in whatever direction you want just pls let me play incredibly powerful wizards

the PTA group ?? i love playing older characters but also like there are so many possibilities and it could be legit funny and full fluff and angst like ? we have those two married characters who are a perfect couple but maybe they are not that perfect ? the single parent who is just really Trying but is always late ? the divorced couple who is only participating bc the other is and they wanna show how much Better of a parent they are ? the teacher who loves to do all of this and is honestly worried about everyone drama ? the teacher who Had to sign up for this bc it was given to them as a punishment after they didn’t something and they are just standing there like ‘why are all of you so extra? just go home. you know this is optional now?’ everyone getting involved in each other’s business ?? ? everyone being lowkey friends ?? ? dR a Ma also all the supportive parents going to the kids games and the kids just being super happy

a greek god mumus ??  maybe we pick two ships and develop them like ( idk hera & zeus and hades & persophone ) or we just pick around the characters we wanna play. and we can have like all of them stuck in the real world, stuck in a human body. zeus wanting to fly to be an eagle to go somewhere but being stuck to earth. being the biggest asshole in the face of this earth but also not being able to let hera go? ? not knowing how to function properly when she is not around. and maybe idk maybe in this life hera doesn’t stick around. maybe in this life the only reason why they are still legally together is because he didn’t sign divorce papers, maybe she is done with him and done with trying when he clearly doesn’t give a fuck. maybe in this life she is a wedding planner and when people ask her to plan their marriages she gives them advice on knowing when to be forgiving and when to stick up for yourself. hades is the leader of a biker gang but he is mostly really quiet and chill and he has three pit bulls who just hang around him and do nothing of true harm ?? and the only person you can actually be terrified of is his wife ? ? bc even tho logic dictates otherwise it seems like she sets fire on the concrete she walks through and makes plants grow when she passes by and it baffles every existing human ?? and hades being ‘listen man i would forgive your betrayal but my wife i mean, she kinda asked me for your head and i can’t say no….’ chris evans a poseydon, poseydon as a surfer dude ??  as a guy who works/owns an aquarium and understands the animal there in a way that doesn’t make sense to anyone else ?? who has the biggest pools for the animals to swim around, even if it makes looking at them harder for whoever is vising, bc all those animals have been raised in captivate and they wouldn’t survive in the ocean but he doesn’t want them to feel stuck ? he wouldn’t know what he would if he couldn’t swim around  in the ocean and he just wants them to feel free even if he can’t free them. ?? there are so many ways in which things can go ? i mean honestly i’ll shower in headcanons pls gimme.

this is the last one i promise but a plot with a bunch of criminals maybe ex-navy/army who work together. maybe based on the losers ?? where you got like the leader of the group who makes dubious decisions when there are woman involved and the stoic explosions specialist who knows the leader so well that the moment the leader flinchs he goes like ‘imma take over now. okay? okay.’ maybe you got the gun slinging asshole who makes inappropriate jokes and the person who is just Too Qualified to be around this sea of idiots. maybe they were all framed for the same crime and they have to live in the shadows hiding in a city in the middle of nowhere pretending they are normal civilians. maybe they were all trying to save someone and it backfired and they wanna go back to their lives but how  ? ? idk there are so many possibilities just pls.

1x1

muse a is hopeless romantic that may or may not be more in love with the idea of love itself than he has ever be with anyone. he quits relationships as soon as they get a tiny bit complicated but he is always talking about ~~~~ soulmates ~~~~. muse b the girl who is way too generous and helps everyone out of the kindness of her heart but expects way too much from everyone. she is always falling in love with people and breaking her own heart by thinking they care more about her than they really do. — now close your eyes and imagine. .. . there is so much potential for angst and fluff ?? ? like he prepares overly dramatic moment in front of everyone and like serenades her ? paints her as his muse and puts it up in galareis ? but also one fight and he talks about breaking up bc that is not true love ? while she is there just interested in the tiny things ? in the days at home with him alone and the way they make each other laugh ? she is such a simple girl and they make each other so happy and he just Can’t see it ? ? ? pls 

muse a is the overly responsible single father/mother had to take care of themselves and his son/daughter ever since they can remember. they Cannot Relax because they must do 110% percent at all times for his kid. muse b is the mother/father of three who laughs way too easily and embarrasses his/her kids dancing in public and cracking bad jokes but they are so bad with time and like doing the Simplest things… — now just .. .. just picture. ..  the two of them meet at a school thing and become friends like maybe everyone talks about the two hottest dads in school getting together maybe they are talking shit about Sharon who doesn’t tell her son no and they bond bc ofc they do. .. and it’s totally like pfffftt pfffffffffff we are just friends .. . expect ‘i knew you would forget your kid’s lunch bc i know you so i packed one for your kid too’ and ‘yeah i know you have a kid but i have a babysitter and we are going out bc you are not Allowed to stay inside another Saturday’ and ‘ofc i’ll go with to the game’ and ‘yes we would love to spend the holidays with your family’ and ‘we are just two bros chilling on a hot tub 5 feet apart bc we are not together. the fact that i wanna kiss you doesn’t change anything.’

characters i would love to play in any plot

okay, so here is the thing, i have two characters. they are super wealthy brothers. one is your local asshole i’m too cool for feelings. he is in his 30s and he goes around partying and making bad decisions and he made himself a successful businessman on his own just to spite his family bc they said he couldn’t do it. 99,99% of his decisions are made either based on anger or just so to feel good. the other one is your local golden boy. he is everything his family ever wanted him to be, and he was a child prodigy type who graduated college super young and has never acted like a child. he is his early 20s. 99,99% of his decisions are made based on what he thinks people want him to do and he just wants to please everybody if you would let me play them in literally any plot  ( preferably like some tiny mumu, i have two characters, you have two characters type of thing ) i’ll literally give the sun !! or cookies !! or anything really omg !! they also have a younger sister so maybe you could play her? ? or you could play some character who is dating the younger brother is starts to fall in love with the older and drama~~ or it could be some two character that you would like to play? like any two characters you wanna develop and we figure out a plot? pls? thanks

[katsukiboom]

hello! i'm not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, would it be okay to ask you for a scenario with izuku? i know he's a sweetie pie and all, but i would love to see him and his fem s/o having an argument and him saying something completely uncalled for and mean and she stops talking to him for weeks. just too hurt to even look at him? can it plspls have a happy ending!? thank you!!!

Hello love, requests are always open! I loved writing about this even if it took me a long while, this is now the longest oneshot I’ve written in this fandom! I hope you like it ♥

She didn’t even know what had started thefight that night. She wasn’t even aware of the fact that she had done somethingwrong, but there she was, driving away from her apartment through the city andhoping she’d find an open door on the other side once she arrived at her bestfriend’s house.

The fact that her boyfriend had found a newagency while he gathered the money to open his own had filled her with glee,but remembering the scenarios from earlier made her tear up again as she heldon to the steering wheel a little bit tighter, her knuckles already turning afaint white. That’s what you get, shetold herself, that’s what you get fortrying.

-

“Whatdo you mean they want you to go to the other side of the country?” ______ askedwith eyes wide open. “What did you tell them?”

Izukulooked at her, a smile plastered on his lips, but she could tell he feltconfused by the look on his eyes. He ate the last bit of food left on his plateand said, “Yes, I told them I would think about it – you’d come with me, ofcourse! It’s one of Gran Torino’s old student’s agency, and they think I’d beperfect there. They can even offer you a place there too if we both agree togo! It’s a great opportunity and… is everything okay?”

Withher hands on both sides of her head and her elbows resting on the table, shelooked at her already cold food while thinking about the whole thing, feelingas if her life there, her work, her friends, everything wasn’t being taken intoconsideration by him. She waited a few more seconds before a few words escapedher lips, her tone calm yet filled with all of her emotions. “I won’t go.”

Thesmall smile on his face vanished little by little, being replaced by a neutralexpression. “I-I mean,” he started, seemingly trying to find the right words tospeak, “it’s maybe a once-in-a-lifetime chance, babe, I want you to think aboutit carefully b-”

“Iwon’t go.”

Hesighed, closing his eyes and getting up to lean against the wall behind him,much to ______’s surprise. “It’s your final answer? You’re not even going tothink about it?” She shook her head – it was weird to see Izuku get mad. Shehad only seen that side of him about four times before, and it had all beenabout the villains, not about her.“I’m telling you it’s something unique, something that could benefit us both,and you don’t even give me a chance; can’t you just be happy for me?”

Thatwas a low blow, especially for Midoriya. He had always been so kind to her,acting like he was the perfect boyfriend, but maybe there was more to the storythan what she could see. She got up as well, but she stood in place, her fistsclenched tightly on each side of her body and her cheeks red. “I’m happy foryou, love,” she said, the words coming out a little bit more strained that shewould’ve liked. “but you need to understand that I’ve built my entire lifearound this place – leaving wouldn’t be easy for me, and I have my own agencyto take care of too, it’s not the best thing right now, I just-”

“Stop.You know what?” he said, his brow furred and a hand motioning her to stoptalking. “I’m going to go whether you come with me or not. I’m not letting thisslip from my reach; I’ve waited long enough to do this.” That was the singlestatement that finally broke her heart, and ______ felt as if her stomach hadreached the ground. Her mouth slightly open, she breathed in, fighting back thetears that now threatened to fall, but when she tried to say something else, hepunched the wall, leaving a small mark on the paint. “Quiet. I’m getting sickof hearing your voice tonight.”

Heturned around and started making his way towards their bedroom without evenmuttering another word, leaving his girlfriend alone to cry, with her thoughtsto keep her company. His voice still resonated inside her mind when, hourslater, she grabbed a suitcase, filling it with all of her stuff she could putinside before making her way to the front door, opening but leaving her keysbehind. She only left a note for him on his nightstand, surely to be read assoon as he woke up and looked for his phone.

I understand the burden you carry, and I don’t want tomake it heavier. If you must, go and follow your dreams, I’ll cheer you on andbe proud that you can be who you want to be. I’ll still love you just the same.

-

It had been a week and a half of a hell______ never thought she’d reach. The first night had been the worse, butthankfully her best friend, Momo was there to help her get through the sadnessand the anger that followed that night, and knowing she wouldn’t want to comeback for a while she offered her friend a room, which she gladly took. She feltstupid for running away like that instead of facing the problem, but hearingIzuku say what he said brought a whole new realization to her – maybe, justmaybe, he still put their relationship low on his list, and she started tobelieve that, maybe, she didn’treally know him, even after all those years.

He had tried to contact her though; phonecalls, text messages, everything he could. He even told her he would come byher agency to talk, but fearing he’d want to tell her that he was still leavinghe asked everyone there to act as if she hadn’t gone to work that day. The painwas still present in her heart but she needed to go on with her daily lifewhile she thought of a good way to handle things.

Maybe she was still doing the right thing.

But that Wednesday, exactly ten days aftershe had left their apartment, she came back to Momo’s only to find her havingsome tea on the kitchen… with him.

The words got stuck in her throat as shefelt her face burning when their gazes met. His green eyes seemed filled withsomething similar to regret, but she had learnt better than to trust that. “______...”he started, getting up and taking a step forward, but when she stepped back hestopped again. “Yaoyorozu,” he muttered while turning around for a second,puzzling her, “do you mind if we have some time alone?” Their friend looked ather with a worried expression yet nodded and quickly exited the room, thetension and silence now looming over them. She looked down, ashamed to evenlook at him but still feeling his stare on her, the sinking sensation insidestepping in once more to make her feel broken. “H-how have you been?”

His question resonated through the spaciousroom, his voice shaking as well as her heart. “Fine.” Her own voice was justbarely audible, afraid he’d snap like before, and for a moment it was as if herbody was stiff like wood. She breathed silently with butterflies in herstomach, and waited for him to speak up again, but when it became apparent hewouldn’t she managed to gather up all of her courage to look at him. It surprisedher to see his eyes puffy and the bags under them darker; she wondered if hehad had any sleep since that night, but that was a question for another day. “Whatare you doing here, Izuku?”

“I know you probably don’t want to see me,”he started immediately, “but I needed to see you again. You know I’ve beentrying, you have no idea how much I looked for you all around – even Yaoyorozudenied you were here until I showed up at the door. She gave me one of thenastiest looks I’ve ever seen her give, and that was scary.” He chuckled, butwhen he saw she didn’t follow he ran a hand through his already messy hair andcoughed. “I need to talk to you; I have a million things running through mymind.”

“About what?” she snapped, tears runningdown her cheeks. “About how you broke my heart? Or about how you were tired oflistening to me?”

“Both,” he stated simply. “”Look, I know I messedup – I know I fucked up.” Hearing himswear was a weird thing that only happened every once in a while, when he felttruly sorry about something. ______ only gasped as he continued, “I saidhorrible things that will continue to make me feel like shit every day and thatI’m sure will still hurt you when you remember them. I know I’m not thegreatest boyfriend on Earth and that probably you don’t want to see me rightnow, but I need to tell you that I love you, I need to tell you that I need you by my side, but I understandif you don’t want to talk at all. I have no rights to ask anything from you.”

Warily, she wiped away the tears, notbreaking eye contact even for a second; watching as he shed a few tearshimself, she started walking towards him, little hiccups making their waythrough their lips as she reached his side. “I’m sorry Izuku,” she said whileputting a hand on his cheek, his head instantly leaning onto it and making herfeel warm inside, despite the current situation she found herself in. “I’m notsure if I want to go back yet. I still need to… sort out my thoughts, I guess.”

“Will you give me a shot at getting youback at least?”

His hopeful eyes glued on her made her wantto throw all of her pride away just for the sake of feeling him close again,but she knew better than to do that. Smiling, she caressed his cheek, the skindry yet smooth under her touch, and as she saw the one who still held her hearttightly she said, “Yes, that I can do.”

[harlowpls-blog]

HEY FRIENDS im v late to the party esp for intros but oh well hi hello i’m marissa and i bring you harlow and patrick :~)

so i’m realizing now that both my characters have military links BUT anywho harlow is a military brat,, her dad was in the army for majority of her life and she moved in and out and around the country so much growing up omg

she’s originally from washington and that’s where her whole family is now that her dad retired but harlow was still too stoked abt traveling so she kept on going around and trying to sell her art and ‘make a difference’ or smth and somehow ended up in camden ( she lived her once before abt towards the end of hs) and has stuck around a whole year !!!

she has a sister (15 months younger) who is blind that she has always taken care of and stood up for growing up and she also has an older brother and they’re all v close since they moved so much they had to stick together yanno

harlow has a tendency to be a sarcastic asshole but she rlly means no harm unless someone deserves it tbh 

she’s p distant and doesn’t rlly open up to ppl that easily but i would lOve for her to have made a few friends here since she’s actually stuck around for a bit 

i ... can’t think of what else but if anyone wants to plot plspls like this or im me and i will love you forever!!!