#plsplsplspls ask me about them

[sycopomp]

Barula and Pich? 👁

HELLO MY DEAR ROANOAKS, ALWAYS LOVELY TO SEE YOU IN MY INBOX <33

YES!! Barula and Pich are characters that @rainboopz and I have, in her setting of "The Sea King's Mermaid"! It's an Asian fantasy set unda da sea 🎶 and she's actually going to be publishing a website on it soon so everyone can learn more about the world and lore!! 👀

But for Bich specifically, these two have become just. two of our favorite bastards. And bastards they are-- irredeemable, absolute, bastards.

Barula is General of the North Sea, and Pich is General of the West Sea. Illicit affairs with your enemy? Oh my. It's more of an "enemies with benefits" situation going on, but they're also pretty friendly when their seas aren't actively at each other's throats (and even sometimes when they are lmAO). They swap notes on interrogation techniques, boast about victories, gossip like a pair of old grannies, and in general make themselves a pain in everyone else's asses.

Neither of the other Generals really like them-- of course Barula hates Chihaya, considering they're a shark, though their general demeanor and personality grates on his nerves as well. He did manage to take one of their teeth after an unfortunate… accident… led to Chihaya going into a blood frenzy-- which Barula was quick to put an end to, and he sure as shit never lets anyone forget that he bested a crazed shark General.

On the flip side, he doesn't mind Minseok… but he is salty that he's never bested the guy in any of their spars. He's General of the South, which Barula mostly considers a joke since all they really do is party. How the hell does a leafy seeahorse of all things, from the happy-go-lucky kingdom of all places, defeat him? General of the North, the most battle-hungry and warmongering kingdom in the seas, infamous even in his own right for being one of the most formidable warriors in the history of the four kingdoms. What the fuck!!

We haven't done as much on the Advisors of the four seas, but the North Sea Advisor, Hoaxuan, is also mine and they Do Not Get Along. But Hoaxuan doesn't get along with anyone in the North. (Wonder why...)

As you could probably tell, Barula is mine, so I can talk for him about hoouuuuurs. He's a striped dolphin with a hate-on for sharks, he's way smarter than anyone assumes from such a brute, and he shamelessly takes advantage of the privilege and authority afforded to him by his position. He worked damn fucking hard to reach the top, and like hell he isn't going to enjoy it to the absolute limit. His Emperor couldn't give less of a fuck either; Ganbold is a temperamental, stubborn, self-righteous old lung that, if anything, encourages Barula's abuses of power-- so long as it serves to strengthen the North (or at least its image). I mean, the Emperor himself doesn't seem to care much for doing shit by the book, so why the hell would Barula? (They're a hell of a pair tbh, enabling back and forth lmAO.) However, their closer relationship doesn't mean Barula is blind to Ganbold's flaws, and even he gets fed up with those divine temper tantrums. But part of his job is shutting up and obeying, and he doesn't really care about the motivations behind being sicced on someone by his Emperor, hehehe.

I have a playlist for Barula, appropriately titled "Barulastard," with such songs as "Animals (Cover)" by Living in Fiction, "Animal in Me" by Solence, "Move Your Body" by My Darkest Days, "Detonate" by Black Math, "Between Breaths" by Blaqk Audio, and "Limbo" by Freddie Dredd. It's about the vibes, man.

You can learn more about Barula on my Toyhouse: https://toyhou.se/21387196.barula

And Pich's Toyhouse is over here: https://toyhou.se/12707449.pich They have a lot of wickedsauce art by Rain, so plsplspls go check them out I'm not normal about them I love them.

(They'll both be getting updated bios for the website to keep all the TSKM bios uniform too, so look forward to that hehe.)

If you have any other questions about (or for) Barula, pls send 'em my way because he's my favorite bastard. (Or Minseok! He's also mine, tho he is not a bastard. His bio is a WIP but we just did some work on his lore recently and I'm sooooo in love with him rn.)

[baambastic]

Not me obsessing over two characters foiling each other so perfectly but I can’t even talk about them in a way anyone will understand because it’s in a sequel to a sequel to a fic that I haven’t even finished planning out yet goddammit why do i do this to myself

[meimeikyu]

hmm i want to draw the gods interacting in festivalverse,,,,

btw theres 8 gods/godlike beings, n there is two types of gods (conventional and unconventional) and. i love them all did u know

[mygnolia]

it’s cupid, stupid! | lhs

୨୧ SYNOPSIS -›  To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?

୨୧ PAIR  -› golden boy!heeseung x fem-pres!reader

୨୧ GENRE -› fluff, pining, hurt/angst, slow burn (oops), bakery au, summer au, post highschool au | ୨୧ TROPES -› (slightly one sided) enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers | ୨୧ WC -› 20k (jfc)

୨୧ INCLUDES -› CURSING, food mentions, a self indulgent characterization of my grandmother but she’s also everyone else’s in this fic, the bakery has foods from like 40 different cultures, both mc and hee get burned but it’s tiny, heeseung’s parents r lowk overachieving assholes this is NOT a reflection of anyone irl, ew so much banter, heeseung and mc drink from the same straw ik that’s an ick for some LOL, underaged alcohol consumption (and being drunk)…sorry

୨୧ REN SAYS... thank u thank u thank u peng aka @jlheon for beta reading this in one sitting for me!!! your comments were so cute i'm so glad you enjoyed reading it <3

plsplsplspls reblog and send feedback/asks if you liked this!

Lee Heeseung might only have eleven characters to his name, but they spelt trouble in forty different ways. 

It starts with the same old Lee Heeseung spilling his applesauce on you in the first grade, with his cup of mushy lukewarm grossness splattered across your new pants with glittery stars on them. You shriek when it happens, frantically wiping off the mess and yelling at his Lightning McQueen lunchbox with all of the bottled up rage a six year old can have. His eyes are wide, but all his friends laugh and say girls are so angry all the time, so he stops himself from apologizing. Which, you think his friends were being a little rude to all girls alike, but what mattered was that Lee Heeseung never ended up saying sorry. 

But that’s just one way of spelling it. He hit you in the face with a ball, ran into you when your knee was scraped and you almost were bursting into tears, and tripped you in the lunch line. 

Did the universe hate you, or did he? 

You figured it was the latter.

Heeseung’s been stuck to you your entire life with some extra strong adhesive that you can’t seem to get off. You wish you could get some of the same glue that stuck you two to the hip and attach his tongue to the nearest streetlight, but things almost never worked in your favor. If you could catch him, just once, like one of the dumb boys who lick frozen poles in winter, you’d be satisfied. 

The blackmail would trump any sort of Heeseung related adversity your elementary grade self had to deal with. 

Unfortunately, the years have rendered you no protection against him, and in the small victories you find yourself in, you also see Heeseung right next to you. The exam you aced was topped by Heeseung with a 98%, just a bit higher than your 96%, and it couldn’t even feel good to talk about it because you knew all your friends talked about was how he did the best. Better than you. 

There was no accomplishment anymore when Heeseung was around. 

Heeseung was perfect in everyone’s eyes, a golden boy in their praises and a role model for their parents. If people didn’t want to be with Lee Heeseung, people wanted to be Lee Heeseung. That? That was something you hated. How could people want to be someone who you couldn’t stand?

Summer is a new slate- a very humid new beginning for you to get away from people at school and hang out with only your closest of friends and to ghost any new message you get. That is, if you choose to. Or, you could have an objectively more “hot girl summer” where you go to pools and post pictures on social media and talk about strangers on the internet. Unfortunately, none of those things seemed to be a viable option, with your friends in different countries and in cute swimsuits. Your visits to your grandmother had been so pushed back with all of the finals on top of exams and end of the year festivities that it had been a while since you last saw her. Spending time with her this summer was your number one priority- your friends could wait a few weeks to hang out again. 

You spend your first Saturday at her house making pastries with oddly reminiscent spices and a sprinkle of your childhood within every slice. If there’s one person you can trust to stay the same, it’s your dear grandma, with her decade old recipes and hard to find ingredients that she sometimes makes you go on a manhunt for. It’s endearing in a way to know that her cooking will never change, and maybe it’s the reason you make an effort to visit when you can. You love your grandma, and you always have, because she’s the only true constant in a world that’s constantly changing. 

You’ve made a feast by the time the sun barely peeks from the edge of the ground. You’ve measured countless spoons of sauces and powdery substances that all look the same and you're surprised the sauce you burned still tastes good. She’s finished setting up the table, and you two can finally dig into your favorite authentic cooking. Even if you see her quite frequently, she doesn’t always cook. Sometimes it’s leftovers, sometimes it’s take-out. But today was different. 

After you’ve both finished, your grandma hands you plastic wrapped dishes filled with mere fractions of what you two have made. She tells you to go to the Lee’s down the road, and your eyes narrow slightly. Lee is also the last name of Heeseung. So, what would be the odds it was him? 

Not likely. Heeseung would think he’s too cool to live in an area like this. His parents are probably minted- and if not loaded, then well off. 

Well, you were 100% wrong! Lee Heeseung does seem to live here, and you will admit the porcelain figures of calico cats in the dark as shapeless silhouettes were a little frightening at first. Your grandma washed away your previous concerns with a “Of course they’ll be home! Heeseung always answers the door for me.” and pushes you out of the house to deliver the two boxes of leftovers that smell delectable. If you weren’t so full, you’d just take a different route and have it for yourself. 

You can hear the ‘it’s our neighbor!’ And a pair of footsteps tumbling down the carpeted stairs to answer the doorbell. 

Lee fucking Heeseung in his sock and pajama clad glory. How punchable he looked in this very moment, with his warm brown dyed hair and white t-shirt. 

“I have leftovers. For your family.” His widened eyes immediately go back to their normal state, and he reaches out to meet your offering halfway. 

“You live here?” He asks, in a calm, civil manner that you don’t think you’ve ever seen with him. 

“Grandma does- I’m just her errand…runner.” You respond, in a not so smooth way. You wince internally at how choppy your words come out, but make no further effort to fix it. By now, it’s Heeseung who’s holding the styrofoam boxes. Your job is done. “Do you live here?” 

He nods solemnly, a smile filled with a smidgen of pride dusted across his features. He loves this house- Heeseung’s been in it his entire life, and it’s obvious the memories that have stayed with him since childhood make him far from ashamed to say it’s where he’s grown up all these years. But you? Could you say the same thing about the simple abode you went home to everyday? 

Maybe not. Another reason why Heeseung had it perfect, and another reason to resent him. 

You sighed to ease the tension that had condensed between the two of you. His mom wondered what took him so long, and he wondered the same question. 

Before you’re about to turn away, he blurts, “Thanks for the food.” You turn around, nodding a silent ‘of course,’ and walking away. 

At that very moment, there was no reason to hate Lee Heeseung. But as you walked away and back to your house, you hated the calico cats and the gate you entered through the house he went back inside to. 

The nostalgic board game high with your grandma does not last for long. As if the universe needed another reason to hate you, the unfortunate truth was that there was always more in store when you were subjected to a bad day, a bad week, or even a case of bad luck. You come back to the mahogany door to terrible news- your grandmother is sick. You rush out of her house the same day with the names of medicinal cures scribbled on a notecard and an urgency in your step. You buy her enough to last for the next few lifetimes, but it doesn’t matter. Anything healthy you could find in the fresh food aisle, you put in your cart, and when you came home, she was already up and sweeping the cold floors with a cough threatening to overwhelm her. 

Sometimes, you wish she didn’t overwork herself. You gently coerce her into laying on the couch, taking some of the medicine you got with a cup of warm water to ease her throat. She says nothing and you expect nothing in return for the last minute shopping you’ve done, but her eyes hold a sincere thankfulness that you know she will never speak aloud. When she’s retired to her bed, you finish unpacking the groceries and complete the mental task of chores your grandma would’ve exerted herself to finish independently. When you’ve finished, your hands are dry with soap and cleaning products, and your arms ache from the mopping, but the house is clean, and your grandma is sleeping well in the other room. You turn off the tv with one of her shows and switch off the light, heading back to your room and changing out of your clothes. By the time you crawl into your bed and charge your phone, the moon is the last thing you remember seeing before you fall asleep.

Monday comes unexpectedly, despite time still being on its course. You find yourself flipping through the cookbooks that littered the walls in your grandmother’s room, and in turn, the absolute urge to busy yourself in her passions manifested in the impulsive decision to work at her bakery. 

“Could- could I go work in the shop?” 

At first, her rejection was through scowls and furrowed eyebrows wondering why someone like you would want to fill their youthful summer days dusting surfaces with flour and kneading doughs instead of living the dream and swimming in turquoise waters. Her second rejection is easier to register. “I already have Hee helping me.” She states plainly, excusing the idea of two people in one room to run her business. Your nose scrunches up, and the temperature of your blood increases tenfold.

“Heeseung,” she clarifies, with almost too much enthusiasm. “He’s in your grade. Goes to your school, too.” She smiles, brushing a section of hair behind your ear and examining the imperfections on your skin. You frown, the obvious displeasure plastered on your features. It’s not hard to notice you don’t like what she just told you. “You don’t like him?”

“It’s whatever.” You tell her, shrugging away from her gaze and shrinking in on yourself. “I don’t care much for him.” 

What a lie! “It seems like you don’t like him.” She comments.

Of course you don’t like him. Heeseung is stuck up, arrogant, and looks past people like you- people who just aren’t as perfect as him. “I mean, why can’t I help you? Shouldn’t Heeseung….rest for the summer?” 

“It’s fine- he’s helped me out multiple times anyways.” She concludes, closing the book she was reading previously. “I wouldn’t mind you coming down to help, I’m sure 17 year olds like you and Hee can run things by yourself.” You raise an eyebrow at both of your names mentioned, but don’t speak out against her. 

You can run it by yourself, but you won’t, simply because your grandmother seems to have an affinity for some boy you just happen to hate. Plus, if Heeseung messes up, you get all the triple chocolate cake to yourself, so you’ll pray on his downfall until then. 

Wednesday morning is when you head over to the bakery, at a much earlier time than usual. The business doesn’t open until at least an hour later, and you spend the time preparing the mixing stands and covering the sweet rolls to be baked in a light sheen of oil. When the sun shines more vibrantly in the morning sky, and the cars honk at the traffic, a ruffled head of hair enters the building, and you’re very worried that you might’ve forgotten to lock the doors. “Sorry, we’re closed!” You yell out, but Lee Heeseung’s tuft of tinted hair is already in your vicinity. 

“The real question would be why you’re here, Miss _____.” He glances towards you, curiosity glazing his eyes over. You immediately scowl at his slightly teasing tone, one that could feel even condescending if he pushed that boundary just a bit more. Lee Heeseung might objectively be better than you in the eyes of an average high schooler, but frankly, you were just the same, and he had no right to sound that amused when you woke up and came here first. It’s 8:03am, and you already found just one more reason to hate him. 

You roll your eyes, knowing that with your back turned to him, he wouldn’t notice the obvious displeasure. “I can’t help out my grandma?” 

It’s so quiet in the place that you hear him suck on a breath behind you. “She’s your grandma?” 

“Did you not remember when I dropped off the food? Oh right, you probably wouldn’t spend your time on something so…,” you pause, racking your brain for a word you think he would use. “‘insignificant.’” 

Rustling. He takes a bowl and a carton of eggs. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Sorry, it’s just so difficult to believe you’re related to her.” Were you really that detached from your culture, or was Heeseung just mean? 

Lee Heeseung’s words get right under your skin, and it makes you see red. You frown in his direction, disregarding his words and moving on with your day.  “Yeah, my grandma is nice, I just don’t know why she thinks you’re a saint.”

“She thinks I’m a saint?” And you see something for the first time, something that’s akin to stars in his eyes, and the corner of his lips turn in satisfaction. He doesn’t even comment on how you’ve let it slip that you’re jealous of their relationship. 

“Maybe in your dreams.” 

“You just said-“ 

You feel like two cats about the fight behind a dumpster, before the door jingles, and someone walks into your conversation with Heeseung. 

“Sorry, is the shop not-?”

You rush to the counter before Heeseung does, counting it as a mental victory to take the first order. 

“It is! What would you like?” It’s something else you can tell your grandma when you get home- that you’ve been starting off all the work in the bakery, and you’re ‘not sure what Heeseung really does.’

The professionalism masks the irritation on his features, and you would’ve killed to see Lee Heeseung’s frown once more. 

When the customer is done telling you his order, you make sure he gets everything he needs, fully satisfied before the ring of the door is heard once more during his departure. The corner of your lip turns up into a grin, victorious as you childishly tease your co-worker. 

“I’m going to do the most around here, and I don’t need your pretty face getting in the way of things.” 

While he denies the rest, Heeseung doesn’t quite ignore what you said about his features. 

When noon has passed, but the sun still glares down on everyone outside, you work just as hard as the white ceiling fan providing cool air for everyone inside. You work in silence, with a playlist filling the air and adding to the ambience, as you listen to your own music through your headphones. Heeseung works without interacting with you more than what needs to be done, and rarely asks for help. He doesn’t let people down; if anything, he exceeds their expectations, but never yours. It’s been like this since the beginning, and you’re convinced it’s something personal- some wrangle ever since you two learned what cooties were that lasted until now. 

“____,” He starts, turning to you. You glance at him, waiting for the boy to continue. “Can you make the brown sugar milk tea- it’s on the-“ 

“I know where it is.” You snip.

Heeseung makes the right choice (in your opinion) to say nothing as you proceed to grab a cup and open the container of boba pearls. After you’ve taken a few orders, you move to the back of the bakery to pull the tray of matcha sheet cake onto the counter to cool. 

“Have you seen the scissors?” Heeseung asks out of nowhere, startling you from the doorway. 

Reaching for the ones you used to cut the parchment paper with, you hand the pair to him and with a mumbled ‘thank you,’ he makes his leave.

In an odd way, you’re stunned by the silence that follows. A “you suck, _____!” would be more in character for villainous Lee Heeseung than whatever just happened. But you’re way too occupied with the bakery, and go back to cutting squares in the matcha cake. 

It’s the same for the next hour until the rush ends and you get a bit more time to yourselves between orders. Heeseung agrees to wash the dishes and you clean the tables to the sound of your playlist from the speakers. 

“You have good music taste.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he emerges. He wipes his hand on a white towel and you stare at him, utterly puzzled. Where’s the malice? Where’s his snarky comments?

“I’m waiting for you to tell me it’s not as good as yours, or something along those lines.” You deadpan. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “I’m not that mean, I can give a compliment or two when I feel like it.” 

“Oh, poor Lee Heeseung only has so much room in his heart to compliment people. How thankful should I be that you spend your daily supply of niceness on me?” You snap, cleaning off the tables. Your chest feels light and you don’t feel as angry as you did this morning, finding your digs to be more playful that serious

Blame it on the lack of sleep.

“I think you should be bowing down to me and only talking when I tell you to.” He jokes, and when you glance up, there’s a semblance of a smile on his face. “Anyways, when are you leaving?”

“Whenever you leave.” You tell him, shrugging. 

“Your grandma said she didn’t want you to stay too late but she also wanted me to take you home, and I think she’d throw a fit if you didn’t. You were dropped off this morning, right?”

“I’d die before getting into a car with you, Lee Heeseung.” 

“If I had to get into a car with you, that’s probably how I’d die.” He responds lightly. You furrow your eyebrows and rack your brain for some sort of retort that hurts Heeseung’s pride, but nothing comes up. 

“My driving skills are very good, I’ll have you know.” 

He jabs, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“How about, next time you come, you leave with your bumper falling off? Some bad driving, yeah?” 

Heeseung could start feeling dizzy if his eyes continue to roll around in his skull. “Sure, we’ll see what your insurance has to say about that.” 

The aroma of vanilla slips through the air, and momentarily distracts you as you make haste to get it from the ringing oven. Unfortunately, your enthusiasm spills over the rim, and when reaching inside, you feel the burn of the sheet cake as you leave it on the iron rack to cool. Heeseung doesn’t tear his eyes from the way you jump back, squeezing the tender skin between your fingers as you blow on it in puffs. 

“Are you okay? Here-“ He reaches for your hand, but gentle. “Let me see that.” Heeseung soothes the slight pain with his thumb running over the burn, and his breath cooling it down slowly. 

“I’m fine.” You tell him, slowly pulling your finger away. His gaze snaps back up at you, and you feel your disdain for him dwindle ever so slightly. Maybe the Heeseung that rushed to make sure you were okay isn’t so bad. 

“Right. You’ll be fine.” And he doesn’t know if it’s something he tells himself, or if he’s telling you, when he goes to get some ointment. 

“A grad party? With Heeseung? Invited?” 

You can’t see him, but you almost hear Sunoo’s pout from the line. “Yeah, I don’t even know why you two fight anyways.” 

You huff, laying back down on your bed after Sunoo’s confession made you shoot up in surprise. “Have you seen him? He’s the most stuck-up annoying person ever.” 

Your friend hums. “To be honest, I don’t think you really know him.” 

“I know him plenty. And there’s nothing good about him, like, ever!” 

“You barely even talk to him, ____.” The last week proves differently, but you bite your tongue.

“I talk to him enough!” You’d defend yourself until the end of the earth. “He’s just…always around me- not like I even want him to, or he’s always hanging out with my friends, or-“

“Our friends.” 

“Well, not really.” You think hard. “They’re only friends because you and I are friends, so I’m friends with Heeseung in a distant obligatory way. And I need to keep it that way by not coming to this party.” 

“Come on!” Sunoo whines from the phone, and you laugh at his antics. “It’s a grad party, you’ll be too busy talking with everyone else to care anyways.” 

“Well, maybe for a bit.” 

“When’s the next time we’ll even be able to see each other anyways? Considering all of this college stuff.” 

You break his facade. “We’re literally going swimming in two weeks from now.” Sunoo laughs. “No, ____. Swimming is different from eating snacks and playing dumb board games.” 

He’s right, and you admit that it’ll be fun for something once last time. 

Maybe Heeseung won’t even show up. 

The next day at the bakery, you rush to ask him, almost too eager to know his answer. “Are you going to Sunoo’s party?” Please say no please please please-

“Of course. I’m his friend. You weren’t invited, or something?” His tone makes you want to light a fire on his head. 

“I’m his friend, too. I was the first person he talked to about it, so of course I was invited, and of course I’m going.” You say it as if the boy in front of you didn’t make you single handedly question your attendance last night. You say it like your demeanor never faltered, not even once. You say it like Heeseung had no say in the decision.

Because he definitely didn’t.

“I’ll see you there, then.” He smiles at you, a glint of evil in his eyes as he gauges your reaction. You return his scheming grin, frosting a slice of cake before walking out and calling the order number. When Heeseung emerges from the paper white curtains, he sees you engrossed in helping a customer pick out a few of the best options for ‘something not so sweet.’ 

When you’re done, you turn around to take a sip of your iced tea. “Really?” He starts, stirring some milk into a swirling shot of espresso. “The red bean cake is your definition of not too sweet?” Your ear-to-ear smile falls when you hear the off-handed comment from Heeseung, leaning against the counter with his taro milk tea, with close to no sugar. 

“I’m sure if they asked you, they would’ve walked out with a cake that tastes like a sponge.” You retaliate. You do your best not to look so affected, seeing as there were other people in the vicinity. It’s a bakery, you have to keep up the comforting atmosphere. 

“I don’t really think you’re the best person to offer advice for those kinds of things, unfortunately.” His tone snips at your resolve, and with every passing moment you stare at his lips and listen to his words, the more you wish to sew them together. 

“Sure, and they’ll be satisfied with eating basically paper? Your standards are also a little far-fetched.” You busy yourself with cleaning the cups and bowls from this morning, physically turning away from him. 

He walks past you and into the kitchen, but not before saying, “I’m sorry one of us has good taste.” 

You pray to every being that someone keeps Heeseung from speaking another insufferable word. 

Sunoo’s house is as quaint as you remember, and although you don’t find yourself making the resemblance often, it suits him. With one hand occupied with holding a gift, and the other about to press the doorbell, you’re interrupted by an all too familiar voice. 

“I guess you did show up. Sucks to see my dreams didn’t come true.”

“I will throw this at you.” You motion to the neat basket in your hands.

Heeseung sighs dramatically, before continuing in the same feigned tone. “Would be a shame if Sunoo only had one gift from us.” 

“He’d understand.” You turn around to ring the doorbell, and Sunoo emerges, a bright smile on his face. He greets the both of you, and his quick side hug immediately reminds you of why you’re here. 

You will have a good time. And you won’t let any auburn haired boy ruin that. 

Despite being close to Sunoo, you’re not as close to the rest of his friends. He keeps his circle small, only with people he spends time with regularly. Which would be good for any other day, but for today, you feel almost like an outsider. Sunoo’s group of friends greet you all the same, and shower the boy behind you with affection. When you walk towards the kitchen, you catch some more of your mutual friends, and your nerves slowly ease away. You join their ongoing card game, an observer to it all as they yell in success or defeat. 

The group of people playing Taboo suddenly doubles as the six of Sunoo’s friends decide they want in. With the way you move to the floor, you’re so preoccupied with making sure there’s enough space for everyone and that all the cards are there, that you don’t realize where you’re sitting. 

Cross legged, on the ground, next to Lee Heeseung. 

You can’t get up, and you weakly protest against the many thoughts telling you that a game of Taboo with Lee Heeseung would get you so heated that everyone would see steam out of your ears by the end of the first round. 

“You know how to play?” Yuna starts to thumb through the cards, making sure all of them are placed in the right orientation. While the majority of you guys nod, a few of them shake their heads, and it prompts a quick explanation from Ryujin. 

“So, everyone gets a set of cards in a team of 3, and you have to describe it without using the words in the white box below. So for example, if my word is Vanilla, I can’t use the words bean, flavor, ice cream, extract, or chocolate.” She shows everyone the example card, and you all nod your heads. “Okay, now we divide into teams!” You tune out the rest of her words as she divides you all into sections based on where you’re sitting, and it leaves you with a twisting feeling. 

“Blue will be ____, Heeseung, and Jungwon!” 

Truly, was luck ever on your side?

You don’t have time to ponder just how horrible things are going, because Jungwon’s excitedly pulling you two close into a circle to discuss game plans. 

“Okay, just skip the cards you can’t answer, think about references rather than actual descriptions. Guys, the prize is good, Sunoo told me.” And the need to win anything reignites in your eyes, determination being your main motivation. 

Jake, Sunghoon, and Yuna go first, and guess four cards correctly. You feel the excitement coursing through the air like electricity, as everyone’s competitive spirit shows through. 

It’s finally your turn, and you volunteer to be the describer, picking up the cards with anticipation. You share a look with Heeseung and Jungwon, praying they share your wave of telepathy. 

First word- Engine. 

You scan through the words you’re not allowed to use, Jake watching over as your referee in case you slip up. 

“Okay, it’s the thing in the-“ You’re about to say car, but you pause, quickly trying to reevaluate your descriptions. The timer looms, and you feel panic settle in. “The thing that powers the…vroom vroom.” 

In Jungwon’s head, it clicks. “Engine!” You toss the card, reading the next. Egypt? 

“It’s a 3D thing, but it has three sides in north Africa.” 

“Pyramids.” Heeseung answers smoothly. 

You grin unknowingly. “Right-right, okay. Where is it?”

“Egypt.” 

“This is a Jesus related celebration-“ You continue, glancing at the hourglass as the sand slips through.

“Easter!” Jungwon says. “Christmas!” 

“The second one! It’s one of the little things you… put up!” 

“Stockings!” And you shake your head at Jungwon, goading them to think a bit more and guess. You glance up almost sheepishly, at a loss of words and stumbling over thoughts. Heeseung sighs, leaning back before looking at you again. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” You huff, flicking at the card anxiously. 

“Like what? Like you can’t describe a simple word?” 

“Oh, as if you could-“

“Ornament!” And with that, the timer ends. You glare at Heeseung, hard, and if you were anything like Superman, you really would’ve burned holes through his skull. Thankfully, with Jungwon was your mediator, you don’t say anything snarky back at him, staying silent as the other groups go. 

The first round tension eases as the night carries on. As Jake and Sunghoon score 7 cards in one round, it prompts you, Heeseung, and Jungwon to come together, a jittery feeling as you sip from a can of soda and pray your brain works in tandem with both of them. 

Remembering Heeseung’s your describer, you sink in your seat a little, feeling hopelessness consume your mind- but Jungwon doesn’t let you sulk as he cheers Heeseung on. “Last round!” He says, a sparkle in his eye. The teams are so close, and despite your team having the lowest points by being the last group to go, you know you can score the 6 points needed to beat Ni-ki, Ryujin, and Sunoo. 

The hourglass is flipped, and you hold your breath. 

“Naturally occuring formation,” he says smoothly, glancing at you and Jungwon. “Hot stuff.” 

It clicks. “Volcano!” Jungwon smiles, feeling victory running through his veins. Heeseung’s lip curls up. 

“It’s the saying with too many people, ‘three’s a..” He waits for you both to finish the line. 

“Crowd!” Heeseung and you smile at each other as he continues to rush through the cards, briefly glancing over to the timer. 

He falters slightly, before lighting up. “When you’re excited, you’re on ____ 9.” You finish it quickly, burning holes into the back of his cards before he continues. You have to win. 

“Jungwon, we played this game in 2020 on Discord with the guys!” 

“Among Us.” and you laugh at the references he makes to win.

“____, it’s the 60% thing you like at the bakery.”

Your breath hitches, and you almost forget to answer until you see the way he’s looking at you. 

“Chocolate.” You mumble, and he cracks a grin again, relieved to get it in only four seconds. 

With the way he looks at the words and furrows his eyes, you worry that the sand will slip through the hourglass completely before he can finish explaining the sixth and final word. 

Heeseung chooses to deviate from the normal meaning of the words, and chooses to use a different meaning of it in order to not risk using a word on his unavailable list. “When something is more spicy than you expect, you say it has a little something to it.” 

Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re barely in the same spot as you were when you first started, leaning over and closer to Heeseung’s curly fringe. “Kick!” you yell out, and the room explodes in commotion, carefully counting the tallies under every team name. Yeji sighs as she marks down your final tally, and you stand up, all in a group hug before you even realize it. You watch Heeseung, looking up at the way his eyes are closed and his smile’s wide. The adrenaline keeps you jumping with your partners, unaware of how Sunoo observes the carefree way you cling onto his friend, and the supposed bane of your existence. When you two finally stop cheering at your long awaited victory, you shoot Heeseung a glance, noticing how he’s already looking at you with the same gears turning in his head. Although you’ve created space, he’s zoned out, and you can tell he hasn’t noticed that you two once again make eye contact. It takes a raised eyebrow from you for him to look elsewhere, absentmindedly tonguing the inside of his cheek, feeling almost embarrassed to have been so close. 

There’s a bubbling feeling in your stomach whenever you think about how he remembered- how Lee Heeseung pays attention to the little things. You push it down, because it’s nothing more than what coworkers do for each other. He’s cordial, as always. That’s all it is.

“Didn’t seem like you hated Heeseung much.” Sunoo comments, a smile puffing up his cheeks. You roll your eyes, helping him pick up some of the stray trash from the floor after the party is over. 

“Don’t even!’ You start, debating if you should throw a Dorito in his face. “It’s just for the games, he was literally insufferable every other minute.” 

Sunoo is unfortunately the victim to your back-and-forth, trying for you to see with reason but falling short to your simple petty nature. He fails to see how Heeseung has treated you, but deep down, you see it. You see the occasional stare Heeseung finds himself in with you, the frown on his features or the way he always carries himself  as if he’s somehow better than you. It’s exasperating how easily he surpasses you, and always glances back to make sure you know. The looks he gives you are deceptive, and you basically see his thoughts laid out in front of him before he turns away. You swear to Sunoo that he has it out for you, always trying to boost that inflated ego of his by showing you how much better he is at anything. 

“How are you so sure Heeseung just wants to rub it all in your face? Well, wait.” He pauses, tying a trash bag closed. “Why do you look at him so much that you catch him staring?” 

Oh. You think about it, truly emptying your brain to find a proper answer, but deep down, there was none to be found. 

“I don’t know, Sunoo,” you huff. “He just always looks at me.” 

“Maybe he wants to be friends.” 

Violently shaking your head, you smash in a water bottle, feeling a flash of confusion pass through you. “Why would he want to be friends with me? To show he’s such a nice and caring person?” The boy on the receiving end sighs, slumping to the floor in the kitchen. You stare at him, watching how Sunoo deflates before going to wash his hands in the sink. “You’re insufferable.” He calls out, laughing quietly. 

A frown makes its way onto your features unknowingly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you truly put yourself in your friend’s shoes. 

Surely, Sunoo sees what you mean, right? There’s just no way Heeseung would want to be friends with you either- it’s not like you treat him any better than he treats you. Plus, Heeseung has had it out for you, always by your side for the best and for the worst times, somehow dampening your mood in both. 

Right?

After a tight hug from Sunoo and your efforts to lift his mood after a long day, you get in your car, a random song from your playlist coursing through the stuffy air. 

There is mutual hatred- well, maybe not hatred, but dislike. A definite dislike between you and some part time bakery employee who also happens to be the worst boy you’ve ever met. 

You’re beginning to think that this feud between you two is a small flame that you’re shoveling piles of wood into, igniting from your own hands. 

You have no idea how to prove it, though. You can’t let yourself look like an idiot by simply being nice to him if he really has it out for you and hates you- or else he’ll get some sort of upper hand. 

Your plan goes like this; You’ll give Lee Heeseung one chance to prove himself as an arrogant and selfish person, and when it happens, it’ll be true solid evidence you have to dislike him. It’ll prove that Lee Heeseung hasn’t changed one bit, and that you were always right in your beliefs. 

You trust the universe will help you out one time, and pray for the best. 

So that’s why, when your grandmother invites you to join her at the Lee’s once again, you agree, finally getting to try not just the leftovers of Mrs. Lee’s delicious galbi recipe. 

And that’s how you're standing in front of his doorstep with a welcome mat under your feet, and a porcelain cat staring up at you from the porch. 

You hear the commotion that follows your knock, and you're greeted with a warm smile from whom you can only assume is Heeseung’s mother. After she invites you in, you meet the rest of the family, and make sure your grandmother has taken a seat. Heeseung glances at you from the stairs, before wordlessly joining the table, quickly grabbing bowls in the kitchen before coming to sit down. Everyone interacts, and you’re stuck smiling and shaking hands with his father and bowing to his grandmother, asking if there’s anything you can do to help. 

When his mother brings the steaming aromatic food over, your eyes light up. “Here, Heeseung, sit next to ____!” 

Your smile drops. 

He takes the empty seat next to you, flashing you a grin. “Long time no see.” You roll your eyes, with the distance between the two of you closer than ever, you lean over to make sure your grandma gets plenty of cabbage kim-chi and warm sauces with her rice, helping her whenever necessary. By the time you sit back down, your bowl already is full of food. You glance over at the culprit.

Heeseung just shrugs when you raise an eyebrow, muttering a thank you before digging in. 

“I hear you’re planning to attend the same university as Heeseung.” His mother’s words cause your eyes to widen, choking slightly on your bite before you feel someone’s hand on your back. “You okay, ____?” And the mirth in his eyes tells you he finds your reaction funny.

You shake your head in earnest, feeling yourself lose even more passion for school. She continues, reaching for some grilled meats with her chopsticks. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? You two are basically neighbors, and you’re always super hard working. Maybe Heeseung could learn a thing or two, since I hear so much about how you help out your grandma.”

You’re pleased to hear she likes you, but it all comes out at once, and her confessions leave you in surprise. You glance over at the boy next to you, hoping to gain some wicked satisfaction from it all, but what you see leaves you with a dejected look. Heeseung’s gaze is steely, and you notice the almost glare his mom sends her son after saying it. He feels small, unlike the confidence that surrounds him after test scores or when he got admitted into his colleges. Something doesn’t feel right, and it leaves a sour feeling on your tongue when you try to make yourself bigger than him. 

“Heeseung has always done well. I’m sure he’ll continue to do well both at the bakery and in school.” You don’t mean to disagree with her, but it’s true. You hate to admit it, at least to his face, but Heeseung’s worked just as hard or harder than everyone else. He tilts his head in confusion as to why you’d voice something like that, and you roll your eyes, hoping that he never brings it up again.  

You continue to talk with his mother, laughing at her comments and going along with whatever she has to say, no matter how traditional her views might be. You thank her profusely for the meal, and she waves you off with a bashful look. ‘It’s nothing,’ she communicates through her laughs and small hug when you two are about to leave.

“See!” Your grandma says on the walk back, as you carry tupperware of marinated meats and soup. “Hee isn’t so bad after all.” 

“I guess.” You really have nothing else to tell her, not wanting to ruin the delicate moments between you two as the sun casts down a slim glow. “He didn’t really say much.” 

His mom, however, made you realize just why Heeseung performs at the standard he does- because he really has no choice but to be the best, or to accept failure in front of his parents’ eyes. It’s a corrosive treatment, one that slowly digs away at anyone’s ability to be passionate about truly anything. 

She changes the subject. “How’s the bakery?” 

You want to tell her that Heeseung is annoying, that he runs around always telling you to do things, that he’s always too busy covered in flour and coconut cream to help you out. You want to tell her that you hate Heeseung, and that your quality of life decreases whenever he’s around. He messes with you, sends jokes and digs your way, and you don’t know how to get him out of there faster. 

“Heeseung’s fine. I know he’s a big help to you.” And maybe, he’s become a big help to you, too. 

There is one thing you’re not sure you can perfect- macarons. 

They’re dumb, take so little ingredients yet such precision- and to be honest, do they even taste that good? In your personal opinion, they’re nothing amazing, and honestly, the scraps of chocolate cake that you don’t use for cake pops serves you well. 

The night before, you and Heeseung both mutually agreed to stay for a bit longer, starting on the macarons so neither of you would mess up tomorrow morning in a rush. It’s a large order, and you get them relatively often. You try to get tips from your grandmother the night before that, writing them down in your phone and making sure you listen to every piece of advice she says. You write down the last thing in your notes, ominously typed out in bold text. “don’t overdo it.” it reads, and you stay up watching videos on how other people make them look so perfect. 

Staying late for the shift meant you shifted your routine by a few hours- showering later, eating a bit later, and sleeping less than you should’ve. You were tired already, but the extra work only added to it, making you feel less and less confident in every piped macaron. 

The alarm reads 8:00am, a criminally late hour if you want to get to work on time. Sending a quick apologetic text to your coworker, you rush out of the house, driving as carefully as you can to make it there while scraping as much time off as you can. Rushing in, you see Heeseung, leaning over and assessing your yellow batch. If the grid you used was supposed to be a 5 by 11 sheet, then there should be 55 macarons- but you notice, in a few places, there are missing confections. 

One culprit. “How childish do you have to be to eat the ones I’ve made?” The immediate accusation has Heeseung looking up at you, straightening his back to narrow his eyes. 

“Some of your macarons were hollow shelled.” 

“What, so you go and throw them away without even asking me?”

Heeseung hates how the mood is immediately dampened, finding himself getting more heated around you. “We literally need 25 of each- only four of yours were hollow- I had to start making another batch because I didn’t want to risk mine being hollow, too.” He tries to explain, tapping his fingers on the counter. Your skin feels hot- how dare he mess with the batch you already worked so hard to pipe and fold? If you were to fish out the shells from the trash right now, you would be positive that they weren’t even that empty. You grab one of the tools from near the sink, going to inspect his red ones. 

His attempt to make himself look human is shattered when you notice that none of his, are in fact, hollow like how he presumes they were. 

“You didn’t even check yours!” You exclaim, feeling targeted. 

He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t even matter who’s batch it was- why do you care so much that I was trying to help you out because you were late today?” 

That- that was your reason. Lee Heeseung once again spelt trouble, by meddling in your macarons when you could’ve so easily examined them yourself. He turns around to start washing the utensils in the sink, as you stand there and seethe. Blame it on the sleep, or on the stress of rushing out this morning, but all of it makes you walk out of the building, feeling the hot tears fill your waterline before they spill and cascade down your skin. 

You worked so hard to make them- and even if they weren’t perfect, even if what he had to say was right, you just wished you could’ve seen it for yourself. You haven’t worked there much prior to the summer, and macarons have always been something you’ve wanted to nail, so to see Heeseung set the standard according to his own feelings and just throw out the ones you wanted to see- well, it hurts. It’s a jab at your pride, at all the effort you’ve put into learning and watching videos, sacrificing sleep to listen to people croak advice after advice on one of the greatest baking feats. It hurts to see once again that you’ve failed to be like Heeseung, and that he took matters into his own hands by assessing your tray for you

Fishing out your phone, you look for one contact to offer comfort. “Grandma?” You ask, sinking down to rest your head on your knees without sitting on the cement. You’re next to your car, not wanting to go through the efforts of finding your keys. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately after hearing your sniffle, and you tell her. You tell her about how your shells were uneven, and how you worked so hard for them, and how Heeseung threw them away before you could even see for yourself. She understands your pain, and tells you that no one can perfect something as difficult as macarons- and that during spring break, she had seen Heeseung go through the same thing. It helps, just a little, to know that he started from the same place as you, too. You calm down with her further reassurance, and wipe your puffy eyes before coming back in. You’re afraid the patrons will notice something’s up, and ignore Heeseung’s worried looks to pat cold water onto your eyelids in hopes of helping them look less red.

He sees all of it- Heeseung Isn't stupid, he knows what he’s done, but he can’t get himself to apologize. And as you knew, he went through the same heartbreaking process, and in his thorough reassessment of the situation, he doesn’t know why he didn’t see it from your perspective until you stormed out. 

‘I'm sorry,’ he writes on the bag of lemon curd he made for your macarons. But it does little to salvage your disposition for today. You ignore him, never asking for any help, or any opinion even in the times you usually would. It’s quiet throughout the whole day, like a gray cloud has dampened the colors in the sky, and you clock out at exactly the right time after everything is done, put away, and cleaned. you refuse to leave a mess for Heeseung to point out, but you leave feeling angry, sad, but mostly, disappointed. 

The next day, you arrive at the bakery to find Heeseung sipping from a dangerously large cup of instant boba and taro milk. His eyes dart up to witness all of your struggling glory carrying a shipment that came to the house instead of the shop. In a hurry, he grabs a few boxes from the top and sets them down on the counter, and whatever you were carrying follows suit. He treats you as if you didn’t fight, as if you two aren’t filling the room with tension the more you steal glances at each other. He grabs his drink, one that he’s prepared 15 minutes ago, and finishes almost another quarter of it in one long sip.

You want to tease him for how much taro he’s had when it’s barely 8 o’clock, but it’s not the right time. Days like this are always slow, only dragged out longer by the silence and lack of tasks. The awkward silence between you two fuels him to grab scissors and start opening the boxes. 

“I thought your grandma might’ve told you I could handle it.” Heeseung comments, refilling the crushed water and oreo toppings. “I was checking the delivery updates pretty often.”

“Not often enough,” you snap. You fight back a glare, and proceed to open up your own box of extracts. “I’m her granddaughter. Maybe you should go enjoy summer with your friends. Don’t you have a beach trip to thirst trap at or something?” It’s meant to be an insult, but Heeseung quietly chuckles, finding it a little funny. 

“Yes, we are having a beach trip soon. But i already told your grandma I’ll work in the morning before your aunt comes to take over.” You frown, wondering why your grandma never reaches out to you and asks you to help.

With emphasis on the syllables in his name, you fire back, “Let’s be clear, Heeseung, she wants my help much more than she needs yours.” He glares, stirring a cup with his eyebrows furrowed and lips curled down in distaste. 

“I’m sure that’s why she was so enthusiastic about coming over to our house and talking to me.” It’s your turn to scowl, and you’re afraid Heeseung’s comments will only take years off your life and produce wrinkles on your face much quicker. 

“Funnily enough, I heard she didn’t want you working there at all.” You cross your arms to look at him as a way to further your point. 

He responds defensively. “Yeah. as if.” Even the way Heeseung rolls his eyes at you is annoying. “She just wants me around more than you.” 

You can’t feel offended, especially when his tone is so light. It probably isn’t even true- how much your grandmother prefers Lee Heeseung over you, just like anyone else. The feeling burns you and you shrink away from the heat of the sudden fire accompanied by the implications of his words. Heeseung catches on to the sudden shift in your demeanor. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean that.” He tries to apologize, watching you carefully.

The flames leave you angry with his response, feeling once again belittled by him. “Bullshit. Are you glad you’re the favorite for every single person you know?” 

His eyebrows furrow, feeling the bite of your words, and the mood instantly changes. “That’s not what I meant, ____.” 

You roll your eyes. “Of course that’s not what you meant, Heeseung. Of course you’re the one who’s perfect, and I’m simply the one who misinterprets all of it. Of course you have never had a bad intention ever and you are loved by everyone. Why can’t you just go? Do you really have to take one more thing away from me and make it your own?” The years of resentment pile up in the words you throw at him, and the built up wall you’ve created finally shows just why you should despise him so much. “Or was it not your intention to do that either?” 

It’s too early, to be honest, to be fighting like this, and you’re definitely saying things that you’re going to regret. But you’re tired of being second to him- tired of never getting the recognition you so badly deserved from those who you actually wanted to hear it from. You’re tired of never being heard by your teachers, getting grades that swoop right under a certain someone’s. All on purpose. (right?)

Despite the sudden urge to bicker with you about how you think everything is about you, and how you’ve never given him a chance, the boy beside you is observant to how hurt you sound being so vulnerable. Heeseung finds himself trying to rethink the past ten years of shared childhood experiences. He’s never really thought about what he’s done to deserve such resentment from you, but the more he says silent, the more he realizes that he’s always so graciously soaked up praise from everyone, and because of it, you were always left sulking in his shadow. 

“I’m sorry.” But it’s more than that. 

You feel stupid for expecting anything deeper. “Is that all you have to-“

He cuts you off, trying to articulate the words and form reason. “No, there’s more. God- let me just think.” You hear how badly he needs to get it out, and you stay quiet, having let all of your anger out already. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m not going to apologize for all of the things I’ve achieved,” he says firmly. “Because that’s never how things were for me- I have no reason to feel bad about what I did.” And you can respect him for standing his ground in a situation full of misunderstanding. “I never did it to hurt you, and I never did it to get in your face and show I was better. But I’m sorry for hurting you unintentionally. I’m sorry I never realized that those things were just as important to you, and I’m sorry for always assuming the worst when we’d talk. I’m sorry I never apologized, and held all of this against you, and made this thing between us worse than it was supposed to be. And, I’m sorry, too, about the macarons. That was stupid. I really should’ve known.”

You feel overwhelmed, your mind trying to undo the years of built up feelings towards him under the assumption that he meant to do those things. “I thought you did it because you genuinely didn’t want to see me happy. Like that time you did the extra credit in biology just so you could score better than me.” You breathe, words coming out without really realizing what you’re saying. “Or like that time in first grade where you spilled your applesauce on me, and never apologized. I kept thinking, what the fuck did I do to deserve it? What had I done to make you feel like we had to compete?” Your open ended questions continue to resonate within your co-worker’s mind, and the more you ramble, the more he sees just how twisted he looks. 

“In first grade, that was because the boys said I’d get cooties if I went to talk to you. Believe me, ____, I tried. But every single time I try to fix things between us, you never let me, I swear.” 

It’s your turn to be confused, swearing that you never saw him apologize. “When have you ever tried to be nice to me?” 

“I tried to let stuff go. Like all the little things we’d say about each other- I tried to understand why you were always so unhappy around me. But you always said I was meddling in your business or that I just wanted to find another way to get under your skin.” 

It settles, then, the realization that you’ve turned him into the villain a bit more than you should’ve. You know there’s always been mutual dislike- there are certain times where you know Heeseung had it out for you, with his sneers, his comments or the way he’d smile at your defeat- but you weren’t a saint either. There were other times that maybe, he wasn’t out to get you, but you were always so consumed with the idea of hating Lee Heeseung that you hated the idea of him being a decent person, too. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, leaving your emotions to witness. “I really should’ve paid attention to your genuine efforts back then, too.”

And you’re not the only one who’s at a loss for words this time. Heeseung is in uncharted territory, unsure of how to process the way you’re apologizing, and being so open. And he’s antagonized you too; made you out to be a mood killer and party pooper in every event imaginable, despising the idea of being around you because you two always disagree somehow. 

“But, why do you do it? Why do you come here if it’s really anything personal?” 

He answers in the only way he sees fit. “I want to help her out, she’s always cooked for our family, she’s let me come over a few times, just little things for my family and I. I never meant to take your grandma away from you like that, I promise. She’s just so kind, and she cares so much about me, so of course I want to care for her, too. I just didn’t think it’d be at the expense of you.”

Despite still feeling hurt, you nod, trying to be mature and talking about it rather than burying it deep. “All I hear about is how she wants you to come, and how she never needs my help anymore because she has you already volunteering. It’s like I barely mean anything to her.” Your words sting for Heeseung, but not because there’s any anger directed at him. Heeseung feels a pang of relatability in his chest, the inability to ever be enough for those around you gnawing away at your self-esteem. 

He shakes his head, begging you silently to understand. “She doesn’t want you to work so hard.” He starts, running a hand through his hair. “She tells me about how she’s worried if you’re eating, or if you’re stressed. She’s watched you through-out your whole life, ____. All she’s ever wanted was for you to finally enjoy the summer you worked so hard for.”

“I just wish it felt that way.” You admit.

To hear such high praise from his lips feels foreign- the idea of Lee Heeseung noticing how hard you’ve worked, realizing the amount of effort you’ve put into your standing and accomplishments, it’s weird. You know he understands completely how stressful it’s all been, considering he was stuck to your side the whole time in highschool whether you liked it or not. Lee Heeseung has worked hard, if not harder, than you, and for him to be able to admit that is so much different than what your perception of him would think. It’s awkward to meet his gaze, and his small smile eases the tension a little when you laugh at his attempt to soothe things out. 

“I feel dumb, for thinking so horribly of you. I honestly never thought you looked at me like I was an equal, just someone you could surpass.” He shakes his head, about to reach out and grab your wrist before he realizes just how intimate it would be. 

“You’re not dumb, _____. You never have been. I’ve always looked up to you.” 

There are knots in your chest- the ones that make it feel as tight and hard to breathe as you do right now- that slowly become untangled the more he speaks of you. His words undo them, little by little, and even if it takes a long time to fix the rift between you two, at least you know you have help. 

Internally, your heart begs you to ask. “Why do you even care?” 

He pauses, mulling over his words, and looking for a proper response. “I don’t know.” He sighs. “I just want to, we’ve been around each other since we were kids, and if there was someone who I’d hope to have by my side, whether or not we’re close, it was you.” 

Your breath hitches at his confession, and your mind runs in a hundred different directions, without ever expecting those words to tumble from his lips. You promise yourself to do things differently from now on, not trusting your words to continue the conversation. 

“We should finish unpacking.” And the rest is that. 

When you two leave to go home, the old tension feels different- lighter, almost. As much as you know he would do things to get on your nerves, never understanding just why you were so negative and brooding around him, your perception of him wasn’t the best, either. And still, you may be a bit mad at him, and not exactly friendly, but at least you’ve both let go of the unspoken baggage.  

When you sit in the passenger seat, you’re less inclined to turn away and face the window, and make small talk with the radio on. 

Things aren’t perfect- the years of hurt he’s done to you doesn’t dissipate in a day, but it’s getting better, and you can only hope it continues that way. 

A week passes between the two of you, and time flows easier now that you two talked things out. You don’t dread going to work, and you didn’t refuse when he offered to buy food on the way home a few days ago. Sure, some topics between you two are sore, and you’re not best of friends, but it’s light years ahead of what it was like before. 

You can never truly get rid of the banter between you two- there are clever insults you’ve crafted in your head that you love to see his reaction to, and you’re just the right person for Heeseung to bicker with. 

“Do you ever stop drinking that soy milk?” Your coworker asks. You nurse your cup, keeping it close as you rush to defend your end of shift drink. “You’re like, a baby.”

“It’s lactose free. And a very good basic drink.” You explain, frowning at yet another large cup of taro tea he holds in his hands. “Your drink probably tastes like nothing.” 

He holds it out, and you raise an eyebrow. “Just use the same straw,” he insists. You truly don’t mind, but it’s so weird now to know that Heeseung, like, your friend. But you take a sip anyways, cringing at how your suspicions were right- There’s barely a hint of sweetness in there. 

“Don’t make that face!” He comments when you grimace, and also feels the need to protect his opinion on 15% sweet options. 

“Anyways,” you change the subject, determined to get him to see your sweet tooth ways. “Help me make some creme brûlée for my grandma. I’ve never tried.” And he sets his cup down, and for the first time possibly, Heeseung joins you to do something. 

“It should be easy, right?” He says, and with a look of determination, you set off. 

“Heat the cream.” You tell him, reading the instructions from your phone. 

He retorts lightly, “So rude.” and you turn around to scoff, all in good fun. 

“You’re insufferable.” And he tilts his head, offering you a small pouty smile when he turns on the stove. 

The mood feels so much less stuffy than it did before when he says, “Must suck to always hate me like how you do.” 

“I have an egg yolk in my hand that i’m willing to throw at you.” He chuckles, and peers over at your bowl. 

“You’re pretty good at that.” He notes, and you fight the urge to beam at his compliment for your yolk-separation skills. After he’s poured in enough cream, he grabs the sugar and a measuring spoon, fishing your phone out from beside you and reading the measurements. 

He adds so much less than what the recipe says, and you only know this because when you glance over, the scale reads a number much lower than 65 grams. 

“Heeseung,” You call out, in a playfully stern manner, and the boy in question turns around like he’s been caught. “Bring back the sugar.” 

“We’ve run out.” He says, the lie appearing as a wide smile on his face. Unconvinced, you walk over, and in turn, he holds the jar up out of your reach. You refuse to reach for it, knowing that the boy in front of you is much taller, but also that you don’t want to break the glass with some horseplay.

Your voice goes from demanding to reasoning. “Give it back. God, I can’t stand you and all of your low sugar preferences. The sugar is literally needed for the texture!” He simply shakes his head, walking over to add just one more unmeasured spoonful. “You didn’t even weigh it.” 

Heeseung mocks you- a high-pitched and garbled version that follows the intonation of your words, and you let out a surprised scoff at his immaturity. Getting a whisk, you make sure the newly added sugar is fully dissolved. He returns with the pot of cream that bubbles slowly, with an oven mitt around the hot handle. Without a look in your direction, Heeseung holds out his arm between you and the heated cream, and it really doesn’t do much- but yet, at the same time, it does. It’s something he does subconsciously; and something you do your best not to pay attention to in order to properly reach for the whisk.

He slaps your hand away lightly, and you mumble an ‘ow!’ in response. “Don’t touch that. Let me whisk it. It’s hot.” He reprimands gently.

Yeah, you’re still doing your best not to pay attention to it. 

When the mixture transforms from a deep yellow to a pale banana color, he leans down and checks the side of the bowl for any egg and sugar he’s missed. “Here,” you reach out. “Let me get the pot.” Heeseung glances up, and shakes his head quickly.

“No it’s okay-“ and it happens quickly, the hand that was whisking leaves to swat your hand away, but it instead makes contact with the rim of the metal appliance when he doesn’t pay attention to where his hand is placed. Although Heeseung only hisses quietly at the pain, you immediately feel bad. 

“Just give it to me,” you demand, and pry the pot out of his hand to let him nurse his wound, leaving it in the sink and quickly going to the medicine cabinet for burn relief cream- the same one you used a few weeks ago. After you grab it, you return to him, reaching out your hand and waiting for him to show you the puffy red skin. 

He slowly puts his hand on your palm, and you twist around his finger to apply the ointment, doing your best to spread it without pressing too hard. 

“Thank you.” 

You glare. “Don’t hold hot things if you’re not fully attending to them.” And he puts his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. 

“I’ll be preparing your ramekins, boss.” The nickname has a nice ring to it. 

When it’s done, the creme brûlée comes out with a slight wobble in the middle, indicating a well-cooked perfection. “Grab the blowtorch!” You shove him into the direction of where it is, and he complies. You sprinkle sugar over five of the six dishes, using a spoon to shape the sugar in the last dish into a heart since you thought it looks cute. 

Heeseung comes back from your right, leaning over to watch you intently. “A heart? You make it seem like you’re in love, or something.” He jokes, evading a jab with your right elbow. 

“Shut up.” 

“You shut up.”

“You argue like a-“ you’re about to finish your sentence with ‘child,’ but when you turn your head (in hopes that saying it directly would add more emphasis), you’re face to face with Heeseung, with a proximity between you two that’s far less than expected. 

He takes a quick step away, and you glance somewhere else with a nervousness in your eye. 

Neither of you say anything, not really sure if you should apologize or if he should, and you return to your current task, a small churning turning in your stomach. You take a step back to let him caramelize the sugar, and he holds the blowtorch with his non-burned hand. 

It’s good, is the only thing you think when you crack the sugar and scoop a bit, admiring the texture. When you and Heeseung finished one each, you begin to clean up and wash the equipment you used. 

“It’s late, _____. I’ll take you home.” He states the obvious, and for what?

“How else am I supposed to get back?” You laugh, and in response, he shrugs. 

“Just a reminder as to which one of us is so graciously kind to drive you too and from the bakery almost everyday.”

“If I had a choice, I could’ve easily taken my own car. You know my grandma needs it for her errands. Like her Wednesday bingo night, or whatever.” He chuckles, holding the door open and unlocking the car. 

Being in the same space as Lee Heeseung isn’t as excruciating as how it used to be- and now, it’s just an opportunity for you to finally ask your burning questions. 

“Heeseung, I’m just curious. How did you even meet my grandma?” 

He furrows his eyebrows. “I think it was the mailbox,” he starts, trying to remember. “She dropped her mail, and it blew out into the street, so I went to get it for her. And on the walk back, she just started asking me questions. Apparently she and my mom were closer than I thought.”

“And that’s how you started working?” 

“First, it was community service. Just using the cash register- since we’re cashless, it’s nothing illegal to have me manage orders.”

“And she just thought you were an angel from the get-go, or something?” 

“Who doesn’t?” And you glare, mocking him like what he did to you earlier. Heeseung’s lips curl into a grin at your antics, never taking it to heart. 

“Me, obviously.” And it’s a half-lie, because secretly, Heeseung isn’t so bad. 

“Well,” he starts, motioning. “I don’t think there’s anything I do or could do that you’d like.” 

You splutter, “That’s not true!” And he raises an eyebrow at your indignant words. 

“Name one thing that you like about me.” 

“No!” You refuse, crossing your arms. “You already have a large enough ego from the teachers.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes at you, tapping his hands tapping on the wheel impatiently. “That’s lame, ____. You’re just further proving my point.” 

With a sigh, you tell him, “I like how you helped us win in Taboo.” And he gives you a look. 

“Cop-out.” 

“What-? No!” Emptying your brain, you try to find something you truly like about the boy who makes life a living hell- or, well, used to (he still kind of does). “Okay, fine. I like that you care about my grandma.” 

Heeseung stays kind of quiet, not really sure what to do now that you’re once again being sincere. “Well, she’s like- the only person who doesn’t expect something from me.” 

Confusion floods your thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“I’m grateful for everyone in my life,” He prefaces. “But it’s no fun having to always work for people’s approval, sometimes, I wish that someone could just appreciate me for me, and that’s how your grandma is. No expectations with her. She’s just happy I’m still around- which, I know, is bare minimum, but at least I don’t have to try so hard for her to like me.” The light turns green, and the car rumbles as he slowly accelerates.

You mull over his confession. “Do I expect something from you then, too?”

“You expect me to perform well, because I always have- and therefore, I have to do well, or else you’ll just rub it in my face.” He states plainly, and you grimace for the second time today. 

“Sorry, I won’t do that anymore.” Heeseung waves you off. 

“It’s no big deal- plus, you weren’t the only one who thought I’d do well all the time. It’s something everyone thought of me. If anything, you were the one who just motivated me to always work harder.” 

“But isn’t that a good thing? To be the best?” 

He shakes his head and when you take a good look at him, Heeseung has a glassy look in his eye. “Sometimes, yes. A lot of the time, no. I just want to do well without anyone forcing that on to me. I don’t want the expectation to be perfect, because then, it’s so much easier for me to stumble.” You don’t realize just how much weight Heeseung carries on his back from the words of his peers and his family. And to you, he resembles a diamond; perfect, but from pressure. 

“Well, from now on, I won’t expect it from you. And if I do better, then I won’t rub it in your face. So that’ll make two people you won’t have to worry about.” The response he gives you is non-verbal, but his change in expression is first laced with surprise, and then silent appreciation.

“Thanks,” he says, once again at a loss for words. “I appreciate it.” 

You send Heeseung a smile, understanding how it feels to always have to do good. You can only hope that he gets his break from the pressure before he burns out. 

“Oh, I should tell you now. I can’t make it next Friday. I have plans, and I’d figure I’d let you know now so you could find someone to replace me.” He announces. When he looks over to see your response, you nod in understanding.

“What are you doing?” 

“Grad party.” Heeseung says plainly. “It’s Jake’s, so if I’m hungover, I’ll try to let you know if I’ll be good by morning.” 

“So considerate.” You comment, albeit a bit teasing. He scoffs, making the final turn before reaching your house. “To be expected from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He questions. “And what kind of person am I?”

“Someone who’s going to have to work alone for the next two weeks if he doesn’t shut up.” He laughs, his eyes scrunching up as unlocks the car. “Thanks for the ride.” 

“Of course, ____.”

A few days go by, but one morning, you walk outside to see Heeseung parked in his car, scrolling on his phone- and it takes you walking up to him to roll the window down. 

“You didn’t even text me you were coming,” you start, pouting slightly. 

Heeseung pats the passenger side. “Just- get in, will you?” And you comply, never one to refuse a free trip to work. 

“So why today?” You ask, fiddling with your fingers and bag. “You usually never pick me up on Thursdays.”

“Since it’s your grandma’s birthday and all, I figured I could just pick you up, and drop you off. She called me yesterday asking to come over, and invite my parents, too. And they couldn’t come because of a work trip, but I promised her.” 

You stay silent. “Fuck, that’s today?” And Heeseung laughs- not at you, just at the situation. 

He nods, eyes still glued to the road. “Have you decided what you want to get her?”

“Flowers, definitely. Probably these treats she’s been thinking about getting from the store. I have this really nice collection of kitchen appliances that I know she’ll like.” And you’re rambling, but Heeseung makes no effort to stop you. “She loves to peel stuff by hand, but I was trying this thing out in the store and it actually works perfectly. Here, I’ll pull it up.” And he takes a quick look at the overpriced appliance, realizing that you also care immensely, but in different ways. “I still need to get her stuff, though- I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get to the flower shop if they close when we close.” And it leaves you dejected, since you know what flowers are her favorite, and how happy she’d be if she saw them on the table for a while. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Heeseung promises, and you nod, believing his words. 

You close a bit earlier than usual, and Heeseung writes on a small sticky note for patrons to come tomorrow. The bakery closes at 8:00 PM everyday, and usually 30 minutes can’t hurt- or at least, you hope it doesn’t. 

When you continue to anxiously check the clock, he comes to your side, rubbing your shoulder and telling you that “30 minutes is plenty of time.” 

“We have to walk there though, and clean up. There’s virtually no parking there ever since that other place opened up nearby.” And he curses, not taking something like that into consideration. While you might be ending earlier, you can’t just leave anything out in fear that someone’s going to try and break in, but you also don’t have nearly enough time to properly wash the dishes and wipe down the tables and counters. Instead, you both opt for putting away the large equipment and the food, turning off the lights so anyone who looks in gets the impression it’s closed with the lack of displays or people around. Then, you two can come back to finish organizing and preparing for tomorrow. 

His reassurance is easy to listen to, and Heeseung’s ability to figure out a plan is comforting in and of itself. You’re grateful he’s even willing to come with. 

“You can just wait in the car, really-“ 

Heeseung looks at you like you’re mad. “We talked about this,” he pressed. “It’s dangerous to go out alone. I have nothing to do in the car anyways.”

Finally, you shut off the lights and start dragging Heeseung’s arm, who’s still taking the key out of the lock as he’s being taken away by your impatience. Setting off in a brisk walk, you continue to check your phone, trying to beat time. Heeseung promises you once more that it’ll be okay, and you ask him what he got for your grandma to change the conversation. You both know her well, and your gifts reflect what qualities you care for most. You realize that Heeseung always keeps others in the back of his mind- like his thoughtful gift to Sunoo, with a handwritten card that Sunoo read a bit of to you guys before Heeseung stopped the further embarrassment. You didn’t realize it then, but the people in his life feel wanted all the time because he has the love to give them. 

You get there barely five minutes before 8:00 PM, and the discontent that washes over the shop owner’s face is apparent. “We’re closed,” she says, and you can’t imagine it’s easy to stay by yourself in a room so stuffy and full of pollen. You walk up to her with Heeseung following behind you, observing the way you practically beg for her to let you find some flowers. You promise you won’t take long, and she sighs, unraveling some of the wrapping paper she knows you’ll want. 

There aren’t many left now that the day is over- and you wonder what kind of people frequent the flower shops. Is it apologetic husbands trying to win over their disappointed wives? Is it children buying flowers for their parents and elders? Or is it people like you and Heeseung, who want to gift it to someone they care about?

“Can you trim the thorns?” And she shakes her head, continuing to ring your bouquet up. You feel horrible, understanding exactly how it feels when someone at the bakery asks for something so grandiose near closing, when your social battery has depleted and you don’t have any more smiles to give. And you know this, but you’re willing to go above and beyond if the shop owner is okay with it. The effort she’s put in already to cut the papers and ribbons to accentuate the flowers is already plenty, but it’s your grandma, and you make sure to come back to support her generously again. 

“Please,” you exhale, desperation and anger mixing in your tone. “I’ll pay extra.” With that, the shop owner sighs, taking your forty dollars and looking up as she opens the cash register. “Just keep it.” You say, in apology for earlier. She doesn’t decline the offer, and slides the crumpled bill into the slot with the rest of them, and ties a purple ribbon around the bouquet. 

You almost forget that he watches the whole ordeal, until the owner of the flower shop mutters a “couples these days” under her breath, and your eyes widen.

With profuse thanks, you grab the neatly wrapped flowers and leave, but the moment you turn the corner, you gawk. “Did you hear what she said?”

“That we’re a couple?” Heeseung brushes it off like it’s nothing. “Yeah. But- what kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t the one paying for them?” 

Heeseung paying for flowers to give to you- it’s a thought that leaves you quiet as your feet follow the same steps you took to get there. Of course he would- and you wonder if you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of it from him- or, actually, anyone for that matter. You’re not sure your mind automatically wants such a sweet gesture from Lee Heeseung himself.

“Thank you for coming, again.” 

“Quit worrying about bothering me,” and it’s like he can read your mind. “Believe it or not, I don’t mind being around you.” His sarcastic comment still holds that undercurrent of honesty, and it’s like he knows just what you need to hear. 

The walk back is much less stressful than the walk to. It falls back to that simple dynamic between two people who have begun to tolerate each other, full of little insults, hits to the side, and laughing. You finally make it back, and the sun paints the sky with swirling blue and pink. The sunset illuminates Heeseung’s side profile as he unlocks the door again, and when you finally pay attention to his jawline, or the gentle purse of his lips in concentration, you come to the conclusion that Heeseung is more than easy on the eyes. 

And as you two clean up, the flowers sit in the passenger seat; a symbol of care for your grandmother, and Lee Heeseung’s time well spent with you.

The trips with leftovers become more frequent, and his parents always remember who you are every time you come bearing gifts. “____!” They exclaim, returning the old tupperware with more dishes on top. It feels like at this point, your grandma cooks for them, and they cook for her just as much. 

“Go bother Heeseung, won’t you? We have dinner in a moment, but he’s been so busy with his work.” You smile at her, curious as to what he even has to do now that school’s over. “It’s the room to your left when you go up.” 

You knock on his door and he yells in response, telling you to come in. Under the assumption that it’s his family, Heeseung goes wide-eyed when he notices it’s you in his messy room with his pajamas and old t-shirts strewn here and there. 

“I did not expect it to be you,” he mumbles, quickly getting out of his chair to fix his covers and pick up a sock. A laugh bubbles from your throat with the way he’s scrambling to make things presentable right before you. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be staying long anyways. Your mom told me to drag you downstairs because you were too invested in your work.” He looks sheepish as he mumbles a quick apology, and after the quick tidying, he shuts his laptop and organizes his desk. “What do you even have to do anyways?” 

“I’m just making music- I started this internship with an entertainment company where they let me shadow a producer and offer input on some unreleased songs for their artists- so I’m just looking at the tracks and making demos.” 

“They let you do that? I figured shadowing wasn’t possible for a company so big.” He nods, a smile dusting his features, and you can tell he takes pride in what he’s accomplished.

You’re about to ask more, but a call of your names from downstairs leaves you two quickly walking down. 

“Have dinner with us!” His dad tells you, and you want to tell him you already ate a bit, but the noodles look delicious, and you agree to only eat a little bit. You glance over at Heeseung, but he offers a small smile as he pulls out a chair for you. 

And so it begins again, but just without your grandmother. 

“____, what are you planning to do in the future?” Heeseung’s dad starts. 

“I’m planning to study Biology in the fall at uni.” You start. “I had an internship last summer before senior year, and I really learned a lot from it, so I knew what I wanted to do by the time I applied for schools.” His mother praises you, as all Asian mothers do, and you can see why Heeseung is so kind-hearted by the way his parents speak to you. 

The conversation naturally switches from your plans to Heeseung’s, as they talk about his pursuit in music production. 

“I’m sure he’s doing a good job, I’m always in classes with him, and there’s nothing you need to worry about.”

His mother continues, however. “I mean, there’s always ways kids can get ahead. I always tell him to apply for things early, and he could’ve gotten more scholarships and finished his internship last summer if he wasn’t so behind. But he’s doing it now, so there's nothing we can say about it.” Her words rub you the wrong way immensely. While your own parents were never the most involved in your high school academics and were supportive of any career path you chose, they never placed an expectation on you to do the best and overachieve. But you get the sense that for Heeseung, no matter how supportive they were, it was never really good enough. It’s torturous.

But, you don’t really know how to respond, humming to ease the growing silence instead. “That’s always true, but I know a lot of people look up to him, including me. He’s doing great regardless of when he does it.” No matter how gently you put it, you know it’s in total opposition to how they think and feel when it comes to their own son, but you can only hope that it helps ease the tension.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, with the discussion of your summer and how things have been with friends, parties, and planned trips. You finish their food quickly, complimenting Heeseung’s mother’s cooking once again and watching her face light up. 

“You should head home, we don’t want your grandma to be too worried.” His dad starts, and you agree, quick to grab your bag. Heeseung takes the containers from your hand and starts putting on his sandals. “I’ll walk you home.” Despite your refusal to let him carry your things, he insists, and you miss the way his mom stares fondly at you two from the kitchen island. 

The warm summer air gives you the illusion that it’s not so late, and with the way light still peaks from the horizon, you feel less tired the later the summer nights get. 

The boy next to you speaks up first. “Did you mean it?” You sneak a glance at his relaxed posture, a hand in his sweatpants and bangs on his forehead. 

“What part?” 

“Any part.” 

You nod, feeling almost incredulous that he thought you’d make up something like that after you two agreed to be on good terms.

“Of course, Hee- I wouldn’t lie about that stuff, especially not to your parents.” 

“I’m sorry about them, by the way.” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “They have high expectations sometimes, I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable to hear them talk about me like that so openly.” The first instinct you have is to reach for his shoulder, making eye contact with him and offering a semblance of comfort before you walk across the street. 

“No, you don’t need to apologize for stuff like that. I’m sorry your parents hold you to those kinds of expectations.” 

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.” 

“But the problem is, you shouldn’t have to be used to it. You’ve genuinely done so much and you deserve some recognition rather than someone always telling you to do better.”

It goes quiet, but you don’t choose to bring anything else up, enjoying the crickets chirping and the gentle breeze that carries you home. 

You stop outside your door and unlock it, inviting him in to say hi to your grandmother.

“Thank you,” you tell him as he’s leaving. “For walking me home.” 

Heeseung simply shakes his head. “It was nothing, really. Thank you for seeing my parents again and whatnot.” He smiles, waving at you before walking back, and a grin makes its way onto your face before you even notice it. 

Your phone dings at an hour earlier than you expected to get up, and it leaves you in an annoyed mood while you turn off your alarms.

hee: dude you HAVE to come in we just got a huge order for triple chocolate cake they said they’d pay extra if we finished by today

y/n: help wtf r u doing at the bakery 

hee: i was making brownies i asked ur grandma this morning if i could

y/n: what for…

hee: because i had a craving ??? what else..

y/n: oh LOL ok ill be there in 30

Originally, you and Heeseung were going to have the day off, and your aunt and grandma were going to work instead- but the tempting offer from Heeseung leaves you explaining why you have to come in for work, and that they should stay at home. You say anything that comes to mind, but they know you wouldn’t let them come with the way you were dressed and already grabbing your shoes and keys.

When you finally rush to the doors, you see Heeseung cutting into the chocolate treats, and when you two make eye contact, he shoves the piece in his mouth and nods. 

“Gross.” You comment, laughing. 

He says something intangible, and you shake your head, putting on your apron.

The amount of work you two have put in is simply criminal to be fake, and the day off you have is getting darker the longer you two stay.

You voice your concerns. “Do you think they’re lying about the tip?What they told you seems like much.” 

Heeseung shrugs, and sprinkles sea salt over the piece he picks up. “I’d hope it’s true. They seemed pretty desperate. I called them back today telling them their order would be done soon, so if they show up and pay more, that’d be great.” 

“I’m glad you’re so optimistic.” You laugh. 

“I have to be, because you’re definitely not.” Heeseung laughs when he sees the scowl on your face. 

“Oh yeah? I think I’m at least a little better than the time you spilled the tapioca pearls and then talked about how everyone had it out for you that day.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Between the two of us, I’ll always hear you saying ‘fuck, i dropped the spoon’ more.” His teasing has you smiling. 

“Focus on your lettering. Or do you need someone to hold your hand and help you?” You lean over to look at him spelling CONGRATS with brown icing. “You messed up.” Nitpicking, you point out a random loop and make fun of him for it despite it not looking bad at all. 

“I did not!” He huffs defensively. “I want to see you try.” He passes you the bag, and you get a piece of plastic wrap on the counter before starting. 

“Lee Heeseung sucks.” He reads. “Did you seriously write that?” You laugh at how offended he is, and the boy next to you is quick to pull the bag from your hand to start piping. halfway through the word ‘hate,’ you elbow his side, and it causes his letter ‘t’ to be dragged too far.

“Hey!” He runs over, smearing a bit of icing on your forehead before you duck and try to avoid all his other attacks. The laughs bubble from your stomach, the adrenaline causing you two to chase each other around the kitchen. You’re not even sure what Heeseung would do if he catches you, but you don’t want to find out. 

“I think we should package those cakes!” You remind him, albeit as a distraction. He sighs, crossing his arms in defeat before agreeing and heading back over. You narrowly avoid his glare, a wide smile on your face as you hum in victory. It’s a bit past closing, and he makes sure to flip the sign, still keeping the light on. 

The customer rings the phone, telling Heeseung that she’ll be there in a few minutes. By the time you’ve boxed all three cakes and cleaned up any edges, she walks in. You ring her up at the counter, and she pulls out her largest bills, telling you to take the change as a gift. You two both thank her immensely, making sure she can carry the cakes out to her car before closing for the night. 

When Heeseung enters through the front door, immediately you start cheering. “We just got paid tonight, Hee!” 

The boy grins, subtracting the total from the amount she gave, and it’s clear that she was being serious when she said she would pay extra. “I think this calls for celebration.” 

You don’t really have an excuse to see him outside of work, and the idea of being alone in a non-bakery setting feels scarily new. 

And you’re about to make up an excuse about how you have to be home (you don’t), but your stomach makes a low sound, and it serves as an answer in place of your faltering words. 

“I’m thinking Korean.”

You don’t expect to learn something new about Lee Heeseung, until you see him order two bowls of stir fried ramen despite the restaurant serving much more elegant dishes. 

“Ramen?” A glance at the menu has you reading one of the more expensive meals offered. “You could’ve had- I don’t know, their Honey Garlic Short Ribs.” 

He scrunches his nose in disapproval as a testament to how much he adores his instant noodles. “It’s just not the same. We barely have noodles at home, since my mom always insists on making it from scratch or boiling them in those big packages. Never just ramen.” You take a sip of your water, surprised. 

“You don’t have ramen? God, come over more often, I’ll make you some.” You suggest lightheartedly. 

He glances over, taking you up on the offer. “Woah- me, in your space?” You send him a glare, looking away and ignoring his laughs. 

The food comes relatively quickly, and he looks over what you’ve gotten to judge it. “It looks good. Let me have some.” He says, reaching over with his wooden chopsticks. 

You gasp at his suddenness, quick to refuse and to drag your plate away from him as you pick up a short rib and eat it before he can. The meat tastes wonderfully marinated and tender, and you don’t realize that the haphazard way you tried to eat it left some sauce on your mouth. Heeseung glances over with a frown, about to comment on how incredibly stingy you are until he notices there’s red sauce on your chin, and grabs his tissue. 

“Here.” He says, tapping you on the shoulder. And silently, he wipes it off, to make sure you won’t have to walk around with people seeing and saying anything. 

“Oh- thanks.” It’s pathetic the way your throat dries up, and how you force yourself to drink your water and move on. You hear about this only in movies- about male leads you turn to burns and wax poetic about how much they love you. You don’t expect it to happen so suddenly.

“Is yours any good?” You ask, averting your gaze. His fried eggs and boiled shrimp sit neatly on his stir fried noodles, the presentation better than you could ever make it at home. 

With a shrug, he replies, “We’ll see.” He tries some, and you see a satisfied grin on his features. 

“Is ramen really that good, Hee?” His enthusiastic nods tell you all you need to know as you continue eating, your pile of bones growing ever so slowly. You two make small talk, about his recent beach trip, or about you rafting with your friends. He talks of college- about going away and his fears of growing up. You tell him you’re scared to dorm, since you’ve been around your family for so long, and you share each other’s sentiments about the rapidly approaching adulthood you’ll both have to face. It’s nice like this, not to bicker and to argue and to despise him. It’s nice to just exist around Lee Heeseung, and you wonder why you haven’t done something like this before- sitting next to him and being able to talk freely about the interests and questions you share. 

You guess that it was just the timing- you were both always so stressed from school, unable to properly sit down to sort out your emotions. And yeah- summer is a new slate, and this year feels just a bit more life-changing than the rest of them. 

“You eat so slow.” And you shoot him yet another scowl, picking up some rice. 

“You ordered ramen and you eat like you’ve been starved for three years.” 

“Whatever. I’ll cover the bill?” 

Narrowing your eyes, you try to remember if you two had discussed anything about payments before. “No- I thought we were just going to split the bill.”

He doesn’t seem to care too much. “I’ll pay for you, since I couldn’t have done it without you,” refering to all the baking you did today.  

Exasperated, you refute his horrible reasoning. “I wouldn’t have even found out about her order if you weren’t there. Just let me split it.” You reach out expectantly, and he retracts the receipt, clutching it close. 

“Just pay me back sometime for something else,” and it’s the last thing he says before turning on his heel and leaving you with your agape. 

When you clean up and join him in the car, the first thing you tell him is that he’s ‘annoying,’ and ‘so stubborn it hurts.’ 

Heeseung just laughs at you, telling you it’s nothing special- like he’s used to paying for others. And thinking about how many people come in to ask him for his number or hope for a date, your assumption makes sense- that he does these things for everyone, and you’re not an outlier in any way. 

When the bakery is one chestnut haired boy short, things are much less interesting. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me.” You joke when Heeseung begins to undo his apron. 

“You can come,” He offers with a small yet sincere smile on his face. “I asked, you all know each other anyways.” You feel your heart stir with the way Heeseung keeps you in his thoughts. 

All you do is refuse his offer. “I have to rewatch my rom-coms.” You wave him off, and within minutes, you’re left alone. The quiet music plays and the bell jingles every so often as patrons come for pick-up orders or drinks. Thankfully it was slow for a Friday, and you weren’t rushing around the shop.

There’s a girl who’s around your age who walks in, curious as to who’s taking her order before making eye contact with you emerging from behind the curtain. 

“Where’s the boy you usually work with?” She says, getting a list of what her and her friends wanted. “I’ve been meaning to ask for his number.” 

You can’t lie and say you’re indifferent to her question, but nonetheless, you take her order and give her his phone number saved in his contact. “He’s not dating anyone, so don’t worry.” You tell her, handing over the receipt. She smiles, and your heart tightens a little at the thought of Heeseung. One of you two is well-liked, one out of the two of you is perfect in every way, and it wasn’t you. 

Without any of your usual weekly plans with your friends, the drive home was quiet as you figured out what to do for the weekend. You would feel bad every time your grandma had to take a shift despite her recovering quickly, and despite her being excited to work again. When home, you decide to make dinner, change, clean up around the house, and retreat to your old room. The show you were catching up on until the wee hours of night was interrupted, and a familiar contact flashes on the screen. 

“Heeseung?” You ask, confused. It’s 12:00 AM. 

“____-ie.” The line giggles a bit before you hear some shuffling. “My head hurts.” 

You’re a bit shocked to hear him like this, but you’re not going to hang up on him and leave him confused. “Did you drink too much?” You ask, trying to choose your words carefully. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung responds, sighing. “I lost a bet, _____. And I lost cup pong, too.” He sounds dejected, like a hurt puppy as he elongates his syllables and pauses between thoughts. “I was going to tell you something.” 

“That you can’t come in for work tomorrow? You sound out of it, Heeseung.” 

He groans, and more shuffling comes from his side. “Yeah, but I can’t drive, ____-ie.” You cringe at the nickname, but refuse to say anything about it with the way he’s acting now.  “No one else can take me home, and my parents can’t know.” He sounds stressed, and you’re quick to reassure him before he starts crying. 

“Where are you?” 

“You’ll pick me up?” Heeseung asks, his tone filled with elation. 

“Maybe. Depends on how I feel in the next 10 minutes.” 

“I’ll cover your shifts anytime, I’ll drive you home, I’ll buy food for you, I’ll sneak you out…” He continues to ramble about all the favors he could do for you, and you laugh before getting out of bed.  

“You better mean it.” 

“I want to see you.” You know he just wants to go home, you know he doesn’t mean anything else with his words. You know he just wants to sober up and go to sleep. 

You know it’s nothing more between you two, yet your heart still beats wildly with every minute you drive, the words echoing in your head. 

“I got you water, and some food- I have no idea if you ate or not.” Is the first thing you tell him when he stumbles out of the house and into your car. 

Heeseung’s one drowsy blink away from falling asleep, and you have to shake him away to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep with a hangover. “Hee!” You rush to park on a random sidewalk before unbuckling your seatbelt. 

You brush back his red hair, pushing his curly bangs away and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He slowly blinks, adjusting to the proximity between you two. You shove a water bottle in his hand before getting a tissue to wipe the light sheen off of his skin. 

“What are you doing, hm?” And his voice, rough with exhaustion, has you quiet for a moment as your skin gets hot. 

Despite your heart thrumming faster, you force yourself to answer simply. “You’re going to have a hangover.” 

He opens his water, drinking almost a third before he leans back. “My head still hurts.” He whines, and you have to laugh. 

“Here,” you suggest, opening the tupperware of fried rice. “Eat.” 

He refuses, continuing to drink from his water, and you don’t have it in you to be annoyed at him. Instead, you grab a spoon. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” You mumble, starting to break up the fried egg and mix it all together.

After the first bite, “It’s good,” He says simply. “I’m glad I got to see you.” 

You feel the incessant pounding in your eardrums and your whole face feels hot. “Eat, before you throw up.” 

“I missed you.” Despite the harmless intention, you can’t stand to let Heeseung sweet-talk you, and it almost frustrates you to know there’s no weight to his words.

You roll your eyes at him and force him to finish his water. “Sober up before you get home.” 

In the quiet of the night, in the small neighborhood with everyone asleep, no one would know about the loudness of your chest, about how his eyes still hold his twinkle as he gazes tiredly at you, letting him dote on him. 

You continue to make sure he drinks and eats, and you’re so engrossed in taking care of him that you don’t realize how little the distance is between you. Making eye contact with him leaves you stunned into silence, but Heeseung says nothing to dispel what’s between you two. He reaches up, his palm cupping your jaw, and you swear, past the alcohol, there’s the faint fresh scent of the ocean, one that you recognize from being around him so often. 

You hold your breath, keeping the box in your steady as you wait for what he’s about to do next. He stares in silent question, glancing only to your lips and back up. It’s like time doesn’t even pass anymore, like a moment written in eternity when you brush away some of his hair.

You swear you’re about to kiss Lee Heeseung for the first time in your life. 

Instead, you cough and duck from his intimate stare, and he pulls away. The heat of his thumb still lingers on your cheek, and the way he looks at you doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“You’re feeling better, right? I’ll drive you home.” 

The wind whips against your window and the streets lay bare as you turn into his neighborhood. It’s all you can do. You can’t be in love, not with Heeseung. 

Heeseung texts you profusely the next day, apologizing before he leaves the house to see you in person. ‘i’m sorry if anything happened last night, please let me know if I overstepped a boundary,’ and despite his words being through text, your mouth feels like it’s dried up, and that you have no idea what to tell him. You send him something vague about driving yourself, nothing that alludes to how your heart raced and skipped a few beats, and how you still think about the gentle way he caresses your jaw. 

How are you supposed to pretend things were the same? Like you weren’t watching him, like his gaze wasn’t with care, and his touches were not electric. How could you pretend that you weren’t slowly falling for Lee Heeseung?

“Did I,” He starts as he rushes through the door. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Shaking your head, you continue to crush up the cookies in their topping container. “I just don’t want to bother you with driving me around anymore.” 

“But you’re not a bother.” Heeseung can barely recall what happened yesterday, and he doesn’t know what caused your sudden lack of interest with your texts from the morning. “Look, ____-” 

In a desperate attempt to push down your unreturned feelings and return things to how they were, you cut him off. “Heeseung, drop it.” 

The day stretches for an eternity, and Heeseung knows something’s wrong. As one last chance to fix things before he goes, he speaks up. “Please, what did I do?” 

And you want to oh-so desperately tell him that last night, you were about to kiss, that the distance between you two was so finite and the way he looked at you had your stomach churning with butterflies. That somewhere, you realized just how similar you two were- that Lee Heeseung understood hard work, he paid attention to the little things, he related to and comforted you in the times that you felt like you were never enough. And those are just the handful of reasons why. You never knew just how well you truly knew him until you evaluated the years you’ve spent together. Some things you pick up subconsciously; like the way he fidgets or nervously smiles when a girl asks for his number, or the way he always looks back at you when he rejects her advances. It’s weird how quickly the knots that made your relationship so complicated suddenly untangle. It’s really just this long windy string that connects you and him, and within the miscommunication, it’s gone awry. 

You and him are in the same vein, and with how much time you spend with each other, it’d be criminal if you didn’t slowly fall for the way he sings along the radio or how he started to open your door. He cares, in all of the minuscule tiny ways that make your heart ache so terribly. “Nothing, it’s…” It’s almost sick how your mind immediately wanders to some stupid scenario where you and Heeseung ended whatever was going on between you two, and you admitted feelings to each other. Heeseung drives you around in his car, Heeseung comes to your house with baked goods he made himself, Heeseung’s eyes glitter when you two get good scores on a test, telling you how happy he is. “It’s just nothing.” You tell him, not really sure what to make of your feelings at all. And while your emotions towards the boy are new and fresh, they're so real- it snowballs fast.

“It’s not nothing if something’s changed between us.” He reasons, a look in his eye begging you to explain. 

“It should be nothing, Heeseung. We’ve never gotten along, so what’s the difference now?” The words leave a burn on your tongue, and you hate the way Heeseung looks away for a moment before he agrees. 

“Right.” He says, monotone and lifeless. “Why bother?” 

And you’re angry with yourself for the way you nod, taking your things. You want to scream in his face that you’ve begun to tolerate Lee Heeseung, in more ways than one. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, you care for him, you want him to be yours. 

“Okay- Hee, wait.” You falter in your decisions, your heartstrings pulling you in an enchanting way towards him- against all rational. “I’m sorry.” You can’t let a good thing go, you can’t risk never talking to him again, simply because you don’t know what it’s like to live life without him. You see him in every memory, in every class photo, and you can’t bear to be the reason you two stop talking- all because you were too scared to speak your mind.

He turns around, waiting for you to continue, crossing his arms as he proceeds to lean against the counter. If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit that Lee Heeseung is one of the most attractive people you’ve met. 

“Do you mean it?” You ask, feeling foolish. He should be asking you that- after what you’ve just told him.

Heeseung takes a step closer, his gaze on the ground as he nears the cash register, slowly closing the distance between you two.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, his voice small. There’s still space between you two, and it feels like oceans apart. And you soak up his words for consideration, truly questioning if you did. 

“No, Heeseung-“ You stare at the blinds, looking around the space only to realize just how secluded you two were- that no one outside of the bakery would know just what loops and hurdles you two had been through to get here. “I could never. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

“Is it true, then? That we get along, now?” His slow steps finally leave the crunching of his shoes in front of you, and you nod your head. And after he sees your confirmation, he continues. “How do you feel about me, ____?”

Your surprised gaze meets his, and you see the small smile on his lips, and the almost playful look in his eye indicating that he’s not really hurt anymore.

“I hate you, Lee Heeseung.” You say, emboldened by his teasing. “I hated you for spilling all of that applesauce on me when we were eight, I hate how you get along with everyone, I hate how you act like you’re better than me.” You pause, to think of more, but his hand reaches up to cup your chin, pointing up to make sure you’re looking at him. 

“I hate all that humming you do at work,” you start, your voice small, feeling shy now that he’s forced to make eye contact (which is extremely attractive and turns your legs into jelly). “Or your piping skills, or how good your macarons taste compared to mine.”

Heeseung is so dangerously close, like how you were just last night. “What else?” He goads you on, wanting to hear just how much more you have left. 

“I hate everything about you,” You barely murmur above a whisper with him being so close to you. “But I’d hate it if you didn’t return my feelings, either.” 

He smiles, finally hearing you admit the very things that’s been plaguing your relationship with the idea of more. 

“Anything more to add?” 

You scoff, reaching up and tangling your hands in his hair. The last thing that reaches Lee Heeseung’s ears are the words, “You’re so annoying,” before you crash your lips into his. 

Your kiss with Heeseung satisfies a longing that’s lasted for a while- to know what it felt like to be so close to him, to kiss his rosy lips just once. It’s tantalizing- the way you can’t pull away, and the way he doesn’t let you with how his hand rests on your lower back to pull you closer. When your hold on his hair loosens slightly, he gingerly lets you lean back. Your forehead comes to rest with his as you open your eyes, letting out a slow breath as you think about the ghost of his kiss on your lips. He’s hesitant to separate from you completely, and rests his hand on your waist instead. 

You smile, biting your lip so you don’t giggle like an excited girl who’s just told her friends about a measly interaction with her crush. Your heart feels like a floating balloon, and your lips stretch into a grin, prompting Heeseung to smile at you, too. 

An idiot. That’s what you both look like. But when Lee Heeseung presses a small kiss on your forehead and intertwines your fingers, you couldn’t care less. 

“Heeseung, stop piping heart macarons, it’s embarrassing.” He rolls his eyes at you and adjusts the piping bag with red macaron batter inside. 

He mimics you childishly, and you want to scoop the lemon curd to plop on his head. “Stop piping heart macarons, yeah, okay, so why do I see you eating them?”

“I don’t. I’d never.” You’re lying, and you both know that, but Heeseung entertains your false narrative a bit more. 

“I’ll have you know, the lady at the law firm a few blocks down came here earlier and ordered some of them.” He retorts. You stick your tongue out at him and continue to mix the drink you’ve been preparing.

“What does she want them for, hm? I can imagine she’s in the season of love in July.” He laughs at your childish comment, continuing to pipe out almost identical hearts onto the baking sheet. 

“Maybe she loves her partner so much and wants to shower them in affection.” He grins, alluding to your relationship. You want to flick him across the forehead, rolling your eyes and walking over after finishing your drink for a to-go order. 

With an elbow on the counter, you watch him from the side as he diligently fills in the heart outlines. “You’ve always liked my macarons, though.” He reminds you. “Remember? You said it when we k-“

“Can you shut up about that?” You cut him off, feeling embarrassed. “It was like- a month ago.” 

It’s your exasperation that fuels him to tease you further. “It was a good kiss, was it n-“

You bump his shoulder, and he messes up one of the macarons, pausing before looking up at you. “Hey!” He whines, frowning. “These are supposed to be for that lawyer, remember?” 

You roll your eyes, and you know when Heeseung lies through his teeth. “Yeah, yeah,” You mutter, using a clean finger to wipe at the edge to make it look nice once more. You play along with his lie. “And we definitely fell in love because of cupid.” 

my baby is done!! as always pleaseeeeee let me know what you think!! even if it is just 'hdefhjfhds' that means the world to me!!!

reblogs are appreciated!! reblogs w comments are da best and asks !! let me know what you think NO JUDGEMENT!

tagging @sumzysworld !

send ask or dm if you'd like to be added to my perm taglist

[pupkashi]

satoru loves you & he’s tired of being your friend

a/n: loosely inspired by taehyungs song fri(end)s i hope u guys like pls lmk what yall think plsplsplspls

word count - 1,764

masterlist

the only light illuminating your living room was from your tv as it played your favorite comfort movie, one you’d seen countless times before. the familiarity of it had you dozing off on your couch, in and out of sleep as you lost the battle with your heavy eyelids.

there’s a soft knock on your door that has you jumping out of your skin, heart racing loudly in your ears. you pause the movie, wondering if maybe you’d hallucinated it and it truly was time for you to go to bed.

knock, knock, knock

your palms are sweaty, checking your phone before standing up. there’d been no missed texts or calls from anyone you knew, who the fuck knocks on a door at 3:24 in the morning?

you grab the baseball bat by the door, peeking through the peephole and being met with tousled white locks. a color of hair you’d be able to spot a mile away, one you’d grown to care for.

“what are you doing at my door at four in the fucking morning?” you whisper-yelled, setting the bat down and opening the door wider to let the man in. he gives you a small smile, one hand pushing his hair back and out of his face and the other holding his side.

“sorry sweet cheeks, didn’t wanna go home just yet” he mumbles, stepping in and standing by the doorway, waiting for your instruction.

“d’you get hurt? are you bleeding?” the annoyance in your voice is gone, and it makes satoru relax. he gives you a small nod, shrugging his shoulders and trying to play it off.

“nothing that won’t be healed by mornin’” you roll your eyes at him, muttering a small ‘come on’ and walking to the bathroom down the hall. “i miss you y’know” satoru says softly, watching as you searched for the first aid kit under the sink, grabbing the box and making him sit on the toilet lid.

“did you really?” you scoff, not meeting his gaze as you grab a soft rag, running it under warm water. satoru furrows his brows, confused as to why you think he wouldn’t have missed you.

“‘course i did,” he replies, opening his mouth to continue but closing it quickly when you turn to face him.

“can i take your blindfold off” you ask, your hands fiddling with the damp rag before setting it down when he nods ‘yes.’ you find the small knot hiding in his hair, gently undoing it.

the black blindfold loosen instantly, and you’re quick to gently take it off his head, setting it on the counter. his hair flops onto his forehead, falling almost perfectly to frame his face. despite the countless times you’d seen his eyes, your breath still hitched in your throat when you looked into them.

you try not to stare too long, brushing his hair out of his face and cleaning the dried blood on his face. satoru doesn’t take his eyes off you, eyes tracing your every feature. his gaze is one you always faltered under, growing nervous when he’d stare at you for too long.

“what” you ask, a small nervous smile forming on your face. satoru shakes his head, a small upside down smile on his face as you wipe the cut on his cheeks with an alcohol wipe.

“you’re just real pretty” he says, watching as you bite your bottom lip, surely trying to stop the smile fighting its way into your face.

“is you side hurt too?” you motion to where his hand is covering, trying to brush past the compliment he’d given you.

“healed it up a good amount while you were cleaning me up” he shrugs, lifting his shirt and showing you the brand new scar, “I’m not completely helpless.”

“no you’re the strongest” you tease, throwing away the used items and washing your hands. “did you wanna shower? you look like you could use it” satoru pouts at your words.

“don’t have to be so mean about it” you laugh softly, drying your hands before you’re standing in front of him again. you let your hands brush through his hair, exposing his forehead before you press a kiss to the skin.

“sorry angel, you’re the one who woke me up” satoru lets his eyes close softly, heart sinking a bit when you pull away from him.

“I’ve got some clothes you’ve left over so I’ll leave ‘em on the counter” you smile, closing the door behind you and sighing softly.

how’d you get to this point? how’re you stuck between friends and something more?

friends don’t feel the way you do about satoru. friends don’t place feathery kisses on their friends scars. friends don’t act the way you two act.

satoru steps out of the shower, smiling when he realizes his clothes smell like you. his heart leaps when he exits the restroom, finding you still awake and waiting for him on the couch.

“waiting for someone?” his voice makes you jump a bit, shaking you head and watching as he sits next to you. “did you have plans for tomorrow?” he questions, watching as you send a text.

“told them something came up,” you shrug, “figured you need me more.”

the words tugged on satoru’s heartstrings. there was a never night you hadn’t been there when he needed you. you’d been there for him since the day you’d met him, there to comfort him and ease his racing mind. you were there to calm him from panic attacks and frustrations, help him through grief and stress. everything.

you were a great friend.

he hated that word. you weren’t his friend, you were something more. he knew how he felt about you, he had an inkling feeling you felt the same. so what’s stopping him?

satoru shakes the question out of his head, focusing instead on the tv. the end credits are rolling but you’re not looking away, eyes unfocused and your mind elsewhere.

“should we go to sleep?” satoru whispers, a feathery touch to snap you back to reality. you nod with a small smile, the two of you making the familiar walk to your bedroom, satoru turning off any lights and closing the bedroom door behind him before slipping in next to you.

you’d always liked having your head on his chest, you were able to hear his heartbeat this way. the rhythmic pitter-patter never failed to make you smile or help you relax. it also gave away anytime he was nervous.

“your hearts beating real fast” you state, not looking up, instead continuing to draw circles in the palm of his hand. “what are you thinking about?”

there’s too many thoughts in satoru’s head, so many that he can’t begin to process a single one of them. so instead he blurts out what had been on his mind all night.

“i love you.”

you never thought people were telling the truth about time stopping when something like this happened. you’d always figured they romanticized their life a little too much.

but you felt time stop.

your fingers faltered and you felt your breathing hitch in your throat. your stomach erupted in butterflies, face hot and your eyes wide as the three words landed on your ears.

there was a million thoughts in your head, memories flooding in. spring nights around a fire pit, hot summer days at the beach, cool autumn afternoons carving pumpkins and cold winter mornings drinking hot chocolate. and in every one of them you bit back three words while staring at the white haired man.

“you don’t have to say it back” satoru begins, his heart beating even faster than before, “i just- I’ve been think-” you sit up quickly and cut him off, shaking your head and finally looking him in the eyes.

“I love you too,” you smile, letting yourself enjoy the the moment of euphoria the two of you felt upon hearing the other say the three words you’d dreamt of.

there’s only a second of silence before satoru’s blue eyes are looking at your lips, flickering up to meet your eyes momentarily. all it takes is you leaning in ever so slightly.

his hands are cupping your cheeks, crashing his lips against yours, a sense of urgency as his lips move against yours. he tastes like his vanilla lip balm and toothpaste, smiling as the words replay in your head.

“what’s funny?” he mumbles against your lips, laughing softly, not bothering to pull away from your lips. satoru’s cerulean eyes are fluttering open, completely focused on you.

you pull away a couple inches, staring into his eyes, you can see the emotions swimming in his eyes, love and excitement written over his face as he takes in your beauty.

“just happy” you reply, “never thought you’d put the end in friends” satoru pouts comically at your words, shoving his face in your lap and groaning softly.

“‘m sorry” he grumbles, “new to all the relationship stuff” there’s genuine frustration and remorse in his voice, it makes you smile as your run your fingers through his hair, tugging softy.

“‘s okay” you say, “thought technically I’m not yours since you haven’t asked me” he knows you’re poking fun at him, not rushing him into anything.

“don’t worry,” he says, sitting up and adjusting himself to lay down next to you, smiling when you lay your head on his chest, “gonna make you mine as soon as i can.”

the words make your heart flutter again, a sheepish smile on your face as your cheeks and ears burn.

“alright smooth talker let’s get some sleep.”

funny enough satoru feels the weight on his shoulders grow lighter with your body weight pressed against him. he feels a sense of serenity running his fingers up and down your exposed skin.

you can see goosebumps rise where your fingertips touch, smiling softly and holding back a giggle as your fingers ghost over his abs, causing him to shiver.

it’s different from before, more intimate.

satoru wonders why he was so afraid of baring his heart to you in the first place. he can’t find an excuse as he watches the golden ray of sunshine hit your face softly, causing you to stir. he’s still as he watches you immediately nuzzle your face into his side, falling back into a deep sleep in his arms.

it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep too, a smile on his face when he feels your grip tighten.

lovers, he thinks, it has a nice ring to it.

taglist (send an ask to be added): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[goldfades]

𝐖𝐍𝐁𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "hi hi hi could u plssss write paige x team mate!reader inspired by paiges proud facebook mom era at the wnba draft where reader gets drafted to her dream team and is one of the top 3 picks 🙏🙏 i just keep rewatching her vids where shes cheering for aaliyah and nika 🥹 omg if u could also include smthn abt the media coverage after like paige bragging abt reader and them at an afterparty or smthn plsplsplspls 🤍"

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | established relationship, a little angst BUT SOOO MUCH DAMN FLUFF, mention of long distance relationship, mention of drinking, sentimental asf, paige being a softie, nothing else

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @plushkhiii @ilovepaigebueckerss @ajcuteee @vi0lentb3rry and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

With the 3rd pick in the 2024 WNBA draft, the Las Vegas Aces are proud to select Y/N L/N ─ University of Connecticut.

You couldn't help but be emotional, all night you'd promised yourself you weren't going to cry; your make-up had cost too much money and this was the start of something new, something you had wanted since you could remember. Everything was finally coming together, so why did it feel so bittersweet? As you step onto the stage, the bright lights shining down on you, you take a deep breath to steady your nerves. This is it, the culmination of years of hard work and dedication.

But as you reach out to shake hands with the team representatives, a wave of emotions washes over you. There's excitement, of course, but also a twinge of sadness. You were leaving what you'd known for four years, all your teammates, your coaches, your friends. You wiped your tears as you smiled brightly, swallowing down all the emotion until the end of the night.

"So, Y/N, your coach tells me that the Aces have been your dream team since you were younger. How does it feel, being selected by them tonight and finally getting the chance to wear their jersey?" The interviewer asks, her voice amplified by the microphone.

You take a moment to compose yourself, pushing aside the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You laugh nervously as you blink away the stinging tears. "It's a, uh... a dream come true. As long as I can remember, the Aces have always been my team. To have the opportunity to play for them at the professional level is an honor beyond words."

The interviewer smiles, sensing the depth of your emotions. "Your family and friends are here with you tonight, supporting you every step of the way. How does their presence make this moment even more special for you?"

Your gaze softens as you think about your loved ones in the crowd. You feel your eyes begin to sting with more unshed tears as you blinked them away, another nervous laugh leaving your lips before your brushed away the stray tears.

"Having my family and-and friends here means everything to me," you say, your voice filled with emotion as you swallowed. "They've been my biggest supporters since day one, cheering me on through every win and every loss. My dad, who stayed up late after every loss and talked me through it, and my mom who's always worn my jersey proudly regardless of the outcome of any game, my teammates who have been there with me through every step of the way," you pause as you take a breath to compose yourself as the tears began to fall.

"And my girlfriend Paige who's my number one hype woman," you pause again as the entire crowd cheers loudly, causing a teary laugh to ripple through you. "She's been there for me through it all, always believing in me even when I doubted myself. Paige, you're my rock, and I couldn't have made it here without you."

The interviewer nods, her eyes reflecting the emotion in your own as she laughed. "Wow, that is quite the list. You have an amazing support system behind you!"

"That's right," you reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips despite the tears still lingering in your eyes. "I truly am blessed with an incredible support system. They've been my backbone, my hype squad, and my shoulder to lean on throughout this journey. I couldn't have asked for a better group of people to have by my side."

──

"Paige, what a night it's been," the interviewer begins, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Your girlfriend, Y/N, just got drafted to the Las Vegas Aces. How does it feel to witness this incredible milestone in her career?"

Paige's eyes sparkle with pride as she leans forward, a grin on her lips. "It's uh, honestly surreal,"she begins, her gaze drifting towards where Y/N stands amidst a sea of people. "I've watched Y/N pour her heart and soul into the game since the day I met her, and to see her dreams finally coming true is just insane. She's worked so hard for this moment, and I couldn't be happier to see her hard work pay off."

The interviewer nods. "And what do you think Y/N will bring to the Aces as a player?"

Paige's grin widens as she thinks about your talents on the court. "I mean, Y/N is an incredible athlete, first and foremost," she says. "She has this drive that pushes her to always give 110%. But it's not just about her skills on the court because I think that's pretty obvious, with her being picked in the Top Three She's not just really talented, but she's also one of the most dedicated and hardworking players I've ever had the privilege of playing with and knowing,"

The interviewer nods in understanding. "And what can you tell us about Y/N's journey to this point? What sets her apart as a player and a person?"

"She's incredibly dedicated and loyal," she explains as she smiles. "She's faced countless challenges along the way, but she's never let anything deter her from pursuing her passion. As a player, she's not only incredibly talented but also competitive which adds to the whole dynamic of the team. I don't even know how I'm gonna be able to play without her,"

Paige sighs as she looks down, trying to get a hold of her emotions before she gets too emotional. She laughs as she shakes her head, "Sorry, I'm just really proud of her," her voice comes out shaky as the interviewer nods sympathetically.

"You should be, she's an amazing player," the interviewer gives her a sad smile as Paige straightens up. "Okay one last thing, the fans have noticed the matching diamond rings on your pinkies, what are they? Promise rings?"

Paige laughs as she shakes her head. "Something like that, but I got them for her custom made before the draft so she knows I'm always with her, even if I'm halfway across the country. I also just wanted to spoil her on her big day," she shrugged as the interviewer laughed.

"Can we get a closer look?" The interviewer asked as Paige nodded and held out her hand, the camera zooming in on the flashy ring. "It's big, wow. That looks really expensive,"

"It wasn't that much, anything for my girl." Paige shrugged as a smirk enveloped her lips. She turns her hand slightly, the diamond catching the light and sparkling. "I wanted Y/N to have something special to remind her of us, especially as she starts this new chapter of her life. And yeah, maybe I went a little overboard with the diamonds," she admits with a playful grin, "but she's worth every penny."

The interviewer nods in understanding, impressed by Paige's gesture. "It's a beautiful ring, Paige. Y/N is lucky to have someone like you supporting her."

Paige's smile widens, her heart swelling with pride. "And I'm lucky to have her," she replies sincerely. "She's my rock, my inspiration, and my everything."

"Well, thank you for speaking with us tonight, Paige. Have fun with your girl and don't lose the rings."

"Thank you," Paige says with a nod. "And don't worry, these rings aren't going anywhere," she adds with a playful smirk, tapping her pinky where the dazzling diamond rests as she walks away.

──

Paige pulls your hand toward the hotel room, stumbling with the card before she opened it. You both were slightly tipsy, the after-party got a little out of control but none of you had cared ─ two of your best friends had gotten drafted, you were now an official member of the Aces and you had a sexy and supportive girlfriend, you deserved to be celebrating.

Nika, Aaliyah and Azzi were still downstairs drinking but Paige wanted some alone time with you. She hadn't had a moment to really talk to you since yesterday. The whole day was spent in a whirlwind of getting ready, interviews, and photo ops. But now, as Paige ushers you into the hotel room, the chaos of the outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

With a soft click, Paige closes the door behind you and her gaze meets yours, filled with a mixture of love and admiration. "Finally, some alone time," she murmurs, her voice low as she draws you closer, her hands tracing gentle patterns on your skin. "I've been dying to have you all to myself."

You can't help but smile at her eagerness, your heart swelling with affection for this woman who means everything to you. "Me too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you lean in to press a soft kiss against her lips.

She pulls away as her hand gently tugging yours as she guides you to the edge of the bed, urging you to sit down before her. You took a seat as she looked down at you, her hand cupping your face. She took in every detail of your face; your bright make-up, your pretty hair and the dress you wore. You looked beautiful, absolutely stunning in the soft glow of the room. Paige's heart swells with adoration as she takes in the sight of you, her girlfriend, her love, her everything.

"You look absolutely stunning," she murmurs, her voice filled with genuine awe as her fingers trail delicately along your cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone more beautiful."

Her thumb brushes gently against your cheek, tracing the curve of your jawline as she leans in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. In that moment, all the words in the world couldn't express the depth of her feelings for you, the way you make her heart race with every glance, every touch, every shared moment.

You both leaned away slowly, catching your breath as Paige's forehead fell against yours. "I thank God everyday that He brought someone so perfect in my life, I don't even know... how I'm gonna be able to breathe with you 2,000 miles away."

"Me neither," your voice came out shaky as tears threatened to fall as you looked up at your girlfriend.

Paige shook her head as her gaze lingered on you. "Don't cry, baby. I'm so fucking proud of you, don't let anything dim that light in your eyes," Paige murmurs, her voice filled with warmness as she brushes away a stray tear from your cheek.

She leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, her arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "And until then, we'll make the most of every moment we have together," she murmurs, her voice soft but determined.

You and Paige showered and an hour later, you were in bed in her arms. Wrapped in the warmth of her embrace, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, the worries of the day melting away as you sink deeper into the comfort of her love.

Paige's fingers trace soothing patterns on your back, her touch gentle and reassuring as she presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I love you," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I know you're gonna make us proud,"

"I love you too," you reply, your voice soft and filled with emotion as you nestle closer to her, your heart overflowing with gratitude for her. "I know, and I finally made you a WNBA girlfriend."

Paige laughed softly as she grabbed your hand, bringing it up to her lips and pressing a kiss. "You mean wife? Have you seen this damn ring?"

You chuckle softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at the mention of the ring on your finger. "Wife, girlfriend, partner in crime, you name it," you tease, intertwining your fingers with hers. "And yeah, I've seen the ring. It's pretty hard to miss," you add with a playful smirk, admiring the glimmering diamond on your hand.

Paige grins, her eyes sparkling with affection as she gazes at the ring. "Well, I couldn't let my future wife go without a little ice," she quips, leaning in to press a loving kiss to your lips.

As you melt into the kiss, a sense of completeness washes over you, knowing that you're exactly where you're meant to be ─ in Paige's arms, surrounded by love and the promise of a lifetime together.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[moneymartin]

OKOK SO I JUST SAW THE NOTIF!!

so hear me out…maybe reader is like a fam friend of Kate’s. They were best friends and played together all the time. They went to Iowa together, and are roommates. Reader plays volleyball, soccer, softball, wtv you want. And like a slow burn friends to lovers!!?? (i’m a whore for friends to lovers) i’m talking mutual pining, years of attraction and feelings…literally brewing for 22 years (kate’s going to be 24 soon, so like they’re moms were bestfriends so Kate and readers friendship started when they were like 2?)

PLSPLSPLSPLS IF U CAN!?😋

・❥・- no hard feelings.

summary: basically the req lol. r plays soccer at uoi and kate is a nervous wreck 😭

warnings: none rlly… just the use of y/n if that even counts as one??? 💀

rpf!!! don’t read it if ur uncomfortable 😣

wc: 2.25k

a/n: not my usual stuff, i know. i’ve just been itching to write something about kate :( plz don’t unfollow me guys and don’t leave me mooties </3 🤧 i swear i’m going back on my yjs grind once school ends. every divider is a timeskip btw cuz this is lowk long and im layz asfk… also kind of messy i’m so sorry

NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

22 years. you and kate have been friends for 22 fucking years, and she hasn’t picked up yet. your very obvious feelings for her are starting to fade the more she’s been avoiding them. it sucks so fucking much.

these stupid feelings started when both of you ended up at the same university and the same dorm. you never saw kate in that light. she was your mom’s best friend’s kid, and the rest was history. you played tackle football with her when she had nobody else to play with, practiced basketball with her. you two were practically attached to the hip. the same elementary, middle school, highschool, and the same damn college.

it wasn’t like you could just leave too. the scholarship you were offered for soccer was totally worth the taking, and you couldn’t leave behind the team either. the first few times you gained feelings for kate was when you were in middle school. ‘experimenting’ with your feelings. well, that was your guys’ excuse after you two losers got caught by her mom. after that it was just dating stupid boys to get your head out of it and your head off of kate. thankfully, she was trying to do the same exact solution. you knew a lot about her.

but the one thing you didn’t know was that she felt the exact same. she was just too scared to say it. its not like she wants to lose a 22 year friendship over her uncontrollable feelings. first thing she did was go to caitlin, and she was practically freaking the hell out over it. cait was definitely the anchor between the both of you. helping you with accidental arguments so you didn’t lose kate, helping you out with what to say when she was upset. it was good having someone like that, but it was so incredibly stressful having to consistently ask for some sort of advice.

eventually you were tired of it. tired of waiting for something to happen. waiting for a move to be made by kate or maybe just a few little hints that kept you going. although you couldn’t anymore. it was draining, like someone who didn’t realize what you felt about them. you told caitlin everything after that reality set in for you. it was the blinding of your feelings that let everything slip through your mind and basically fly over your head. how could you be so naive to believe that she did and you were just trying hard for nothing in return. it was dumb, and you knew that much.

one night after a long day of testing and practice, you stumble your way into your dorm, the door locked and a frown crossing your face. the keys were in your stupid locker. “open the door, please..” you murmur, voice tired and confused. you bring your fist up to the door and knock softly, the sound of the lock clicking and the door creaking open. “jeez. soccer must’ve been a pain in the ass. you look like shit.” kate laughs, grabbing your arm gently to stable your body. letting out a heavy huff of breath, you lean slightly into her and drop your arms to your sides. “tell me about it.” she smiles and hoists you up carefully, locking the door and bringing you to the living room.

the moment your butt hits the couch cushion you let out a soft sigh and look at kate, her big stupid and soft eyes locking onto yours. the corners of your lips curl up slightly and you snicker, raising your eyebrows. “do you really wanna know? cause its a stupid story.” you exaggerate and rub the back of your neck. kate takes the spot next to you and nods continuously, her head leaning onto your shoulder. “trust me, dude. i wanna hear it.”

“kay, well… coach dilanni was being a total douche about what i wanted to practice. i mean, its fucking practice for a reason. i’m supposed to practice what i need to practice! not what he wants me to practice.” your voice gets a little low and you start to slur out your words. the repeated words and slow murmurs make her laugh a little, her arm hooking around your neck and bringing your head towards hers. “and he gave me so much attitude. like, the more i tried to defend myself the more he spoke over me. the old head was thinking about benching me during the champ game!!!” you blurt out and let out a groan.

she starts to realize just how tired you are and pouts, her head moving away, and her hands cupping your face. your head involuntarily moves to stare at hers, your eyes half open, your lips pursed slightly, and your head dropped down a little. “he looks like a nice old guy but deep down that man has some serious problems,” you grumble. “and don’t even get me started on the tests i had to take.” kate’s eyebrows raise and her face stills for a moment when you bury your face deep into her neck. your breath tickles at her skin and she feels shivers running up and down her back. you’re so tired you don’t even realize what you’re doing.

“y/n…” she breathes out heavily and you hear her swallow down whatever she needs to say. your head pulls out and you look at her with big eyes too, just like how she did earlier. water forms in your ducts as you try to fight off the sleepiness, but the way kate is looking at you makes it hard to get off of her. “hm?” you hum and drop your head against her shoulder. “never mind, okay.” her voice drops too and softens a bit, a familiar heat rushing up to your face when she runs her fingers up and down your back.

the warmth of her body and the relief you feel when you hear her voice makes your head spin like crazy. its like she knows what you feel about her and is just doing this to mess with you. the second your eyes shut, kate sucks in a sharp breath in through her teeth and practically manhandles you. gently, of course. but shes picked you up like a damn baby and you don’t have the slightest intention of stopping her from doing it.

your stomach spins and churns awkwardly from the contact. you’ve known kate all your life, but right now it feels like you just saw her on campus for the first time. after you got that news you guys shared a room together. you suddenly get the reminder of your feelings for her, like a shit ton of fireworks igniting in your stomach. more so reigniting. she brushes her fingers up against your face to move a few strands of hair from it.

kate likes you. she really fucking does, and its just the fact that she can’t spit it out no matter how much she wants to. no matter how much she wants to scream it from the rooftop and tell the whole world about how she feels. she thinks you’re the prettiest girl she’s ever seen and she has that gut feeling where she believes that you feel the same way. she isn’t stupid but shes smitten and that’s blinding her as well. just like how it did to you.

“y’know how we’ve been friends for like.. a bajillion years?” she laughs nervously and curls her lips downwards a bit. you know that shes nervous and its starting to make you nervous too. you’re starting to sweat a little underneath your shirt and you can somehow feel it under your skin. “yeah, why?” you ask and open your eyes to look at her face. its all red, her eyes open wide with anxiety, and her mouth slightly parted.

“okay, listen to me and don’t freak out… please.” kate squeaks out and moves her hands away from you. her reactions and jitters cause you to sit up and watch her every move just to make sure she really doesn’t start to freak. theres a feeling in your stomach that can’t really be put into words. it’s that feeling where you wanna throw up because of your nerves and the wanna jump off a bridge before you hear what she says. “i won’t go crazy, you idiot. what’s wrong with you?” you ask with a little chuckle but it quickly fades away when you realize what she’s about to say.

you’re not feeling this because you’re embarrassed of what she’s feeling. you’re just nervous and not used to it. at least thats what you’re telling yourself. there’s a little voice in your head repeatedly telling you to “calm the fuck down!” and it isn’t really helping. your brain is fried from the tiredness you feel too, but this seems really important. “nothing is wrong with me, i just dunno.. need to tell you something before its too late.” she whispers and tilts her head to the side a little, figuring out how she has to say it and if she really should let you know. now that she’s declared that she needs to say this little thing before its ‘too late’ confirms everything you need to know.

“this probably sounds stupid and dumb and i’m going to sound like the biggest loser in the world,” she starts, her voice cracking and her face contorting in different ways you’ve never seen before. in all the years you’ve know kate, shes never been so anxious and nervous about something like this before. its kinda scary. “but i think i’m like.. really in love with you.” she stumbles over her words and buries her face into her hands. it takes you a moment to process what she says as the sleepiness corrupts your mind. “i’m sorry, what?” you mutter.

“i said i like you!!!” kate blurts out and you watch her face turn the reddest you’ve ever seen it. you’ve been with her for almost all of her relationships and this is the first time her face has ever looked like that. her previous partners have never had her like this, they’ve never had her the way you have, and you’re realizing that just now. “oh.” you gulp. the words you’ve been waiting to hear for more than half of your life have finally been said, and it is the greatest relief you’ve ever felt in your life. and everything makes sense now.

the way kate brushes up against you in the halls, the fact she always walks you to your classes no matter how far hers is from it, her taking you to soccer practice, her watching your games like how you watch her, and the fact that you are the reason she blushes like she’s embarrassed herself. although she hasn’t, she’s just so into you, and nothing is gonna change the way she feels. “‘oh?’ is that it?” kate spits out and starts to panic a little. after she’s just admitted, she’s expected something different from you. maybe the same thing? she doesn’t know what she was expecting, it just wasn’t that.

your eyes widen and your face grows redder the longer you stare at her and when your tiny tired peabrain registers that she reciprocates what you feel. “no! that’s not it, stupid, i like you too!” you blurt out as well and push her shoulders. kate has a look of something on her face. you can’t tell what it is but she seems happy about what you said, and that makes your emotions explode. “okay, you know what? i love you, actually! i love you, i love you, i love you!!!!!!!!” you stutter out a bunch of times. years and years of hoping and waiting that she’ll finally do something comes to a stop. “i have my whole damn life.” you murmur, catching your breath slightly from the continuous shouting of your feelings at her. the burning and churning in your stomach goes away and is replaced with a certain sense of relief. a relief that you haven’t felt in ages.

“oh so, you’re serious, serious?”

“yes, okay. i’m not joking, like i meant everything.”

“say you swear or i won’t believe one word you say.”

“i swear on coach dilanni’s life.” you giggle, fingers threading through kate’s blonde strands. her head is propped up on your chest and her eyes are slightly open. you two have been sitting there for about ten minutes, talking about why or how you even got these stupid little feelings for each other. but none of you are complaining. matter of fact, you’re both on the verge of falling asleep but the presence from each other makes you both wanna stay up all damn night if you could.

“he’s not gonna like that...” she murmurs, voice soft and slurring a bit. kate wraps her arms tight around your waist, her head moving into a more comfortable position. your hands are all over the place and you’re basically just messing up her hair, one of her eyes closing when a few strands get in her face. “you have no idea what you’re doing, huh?” her lips turn into that smile you know all too well now, and her eyes closing completely. a yawn escapes from in between your lips and she hears it, snapping her head upwards, that smile turning into a smirk.

“kiss me.”

and you do.

[honeipie]

plsplsplspls make the toast a series 😭

NATURALLY

izuku midoryia x reader

synopsis: going somewhere old to start something new

authors note: your wish is my command! i’ll probably make one more part beacause of one line i specifically wanna use LOLL

one | two | three | four

"izuku" inko's voice was light, but stern as she carried two mugs over to the small coffee table in her apartment. the same apartment that he had grown up in. of course, he had tried to buy her a house as soon as he received his first paycheck, but she refused. insisted that she didn't need much room for just herself. plus, she loved the little bursts of nostalgia she would get every so often from doing simple things. like making izuku's favorite cookies in the kitchen, or even walking by his old room which she kept perfectly intact. if someone walked in there they might've thought that he was still a teenage boy, but he wasn't.

there in her living room sat her son in his early adulthood. he almost took up half of the loveseat due to the growing muscle on his body. though even due to his increase in size, he shrunk down hearing his mother say his name.

she sat down next to him placing the mugs right on the coasters he had set out "you haven't answered my question"

izuku brought his two fingers up to rub the bridge of his nose "no, we're not together anymore" he mumbled in embarrassment and shame. it never felt good to tell anyone a relationship they invested time and money into didn't end up working out.

she frowned placing a hand on his back to rub slow circles "you got divorced after one week? izuku that can't be right.."

"no, no we didn't get divorced. we were actually, um" he was trying to figure out how to word this correctly to where he didn't sound insane "we were never officially married"

she stopped rubbing giving him a skeptical look "izuku what do you mean you were never married?"

he sighed leaning his elbows against his knees "we were supposed to sign the official marriage papers during the reception in front of everyone then send them in the next day. after that fight though? we just decided to not do it anymore"

"how did the press take it? i haven't seen anything"

"the press didn't know about the engagement or the wedding thankfully. we wanted a peaceful time to plan the wedding. they’re posting a breakup message for the both of us later today though. better to nip it in the bud now”

she nodded her head going to resume in rubbing his back "so when did you officially decide to call it off"

"yesterday"

"any specific reason? or a buildup of many?"

he paused for a moment, mulling over the answer "she would say one specific reason. i would say it built up over time" he shook his head in disbelief "couldn't even agree on that"

"what would she say the one reason was"

a lump caught in his throat at the question. such a simple fucking question that he didn't want to answer. but he knew if he didn't she would be a pain about it.

"y/n"

inko hummed at the very familiar name. you had been over mulitple times in the past years with and without her son. the two of you had grown close and she was like a mother to you. honestly, she had wished that izuku had gotten with you in the first place. would've saved a lot of time and trouble.

"well.. was she a strain to your relationship"

izuku scoffed, almost offended she even asked.

"she was never a problem for me-"

"well of course she wasn't a problem for you. that was your best friend"

"exactly! if uraraka couldn't understand that then it couldn't have worked between us. y/n was one of the first people to believe in me. i owe her a lot and i can't just let her go like that"

inko moved her hand from izuku's back and went to hold his hands instead "face me honey" izuku shifted his body so he was now facing his mother. growing older everyday, but still the strong woman he remembers when he was younger "i just wanted to apologize. for not bring able to give you a normal childhood with two parents in the home"

izuku's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion at her sudden apology "where is this coming from? mom it's fine. you did the best you could and i appreciate that more than anything else you could've done"

she patted on of his hands with a smile "i know you do sweetheart. but i'm mostly apologizing because you couldn't see what a real marriage consists of. the person you marry is one of the most important decisions you will ever make, but the easiest at the same time. love isn't enough to hold a marriage together, you need to be best friends before that. when you love someone on a surface level all you want to do is make sure they're happy. they won't tell you if something is bothering them. they'll follow you blindly into anything. when you marry your best friend you hold them accountable because you want to see them succeed in all that they do. it might make you fight sometimes, but at the end of the day it's worth it. because you have someone by your side you know that will stick it out with you for the rest of your years to come. that's what a marriage should be like"

".. so you're saying i should marry y/n?"

"i'm saying give it time. you don't need to jump back into another relationship immediately after this. what you should be doing is taking time to reflect on what you want, and when you're ready, how y/n makes you feel. and if you do feel something? let it flow. what happens will happen naturally”

---

the smell of hot glue filled your senses as you picked up a seashell from your pile. currently, you were at inko's house doing your monthly crafting sessions. who cares if you hadn't talked to izuku in four months? at least you had his mom.

last month the two of you had went to the beach to crochet, and ended up walking along the beach picking up seashells as you talked. that's when she let you know about the unspoken details of the breakup. you tried to hide your feelings with a stoic face and a simple 'wow'. though inko wasn't buying any of it.

she was currently letting you in on all the work drama she was currently having "i don't know why they want to get in my face like i'm the problem. ma'am, you have an STD, i'm a pediatric nurse. please let me do my job"

you threw your head back in laughter which drowned out the sound of keys jingling in the door.

"hey mom? i got those vegetables you were talking about. don't these tomatoes look fake?" he stopped mid-sentence seeing you sitting there on the floor with the same expression.

"oh no, i must've double booked you two" inko got up taking the bag from izuku's hands "you see every month y/n and i do crafty stuff together and it happened to land on the same day i told you i would make the stir fry"

you gave izuku a quick smile before turning from his lingering gaze "it's okay okaasan. i'll come back another day so we can finish it" you started to gather your things, but inko shook her head "you are staying for dinner. this recipe cooks for four and i am not eating all these leftovers"

you wanted to argue, but knew it would fall onto deaf ears "okay then"

“izuku honey. finish mines while i start on dinner”

“alright” he went to sit on the couch, knee almost brushing onto your shoulder. izuku watched as you placed one of the shells onto your frame carefully. getting the idea he started to do the same exact thing.

you could cut the tension with a knife. silence wasn’t something you were particularly used to with izuku.

“heard you and ochako broke up”

and at this moment he could start listing the things he loved about you.

1. you weren’t afraid to be blunt with him

both of his eyebrows raised and he blew out a puff of air “you don’t hold anything back”

“never did, never will”

he chuckled at your words glancing over at you. there was a slight smile on your face he could tell you were trying to hide. there was a slight slump to your shoulders though as time went on.

he continued with the project figuring he would wait until you spoke again.

like clockwork you turned looking directly into his eyes “can we talk?”

2. you made room for open and honest communication

he nodded placing the picture frame down carefully “yeah, unplug the hot glue and we can go in my room” you nodded unplugging the glue guns and heading over to his old room. he followed after you but not before turning back to his mom “we’re gonna talk”

she gave him a nod, but then quickly turned around when it finally registered “talk? like the talk? the talk so that you two can get together so i can finally have grandbabies talk?-“

“if i say yes will you stop it with that?”

“yes”

“then yes that talk”

she shooed him off into the room as if it was him holding them up. he rubbed the back of his neck while walking inside. with the other hand he closed the door with a soft click.

“how much of that did you hear?”

you shrugged going to sit on the bed “i didn’t hear any of it if it makes you feel better”

“it does actually” he sat himself down next to you with a huff. kirishima would probably kick him right now for how unmanly he’s being. forcing you to step up and take charge of the situation. he just wanted to test the waters out and see how you felt first.

“i guess i just wanted to catch up. really see how you’re feeling. cause i know you posted on the media you ended everything on good terms, but is everything really okay? i mean you broke up with the woman you thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with. it’s okay to be upset”

3. you genuinely cared for him no matter what

“i-“ he cleared his throat from the unexpected voice crack that had arose “sorry, i’m pretty fine now actually. i just feel guilty for making ochako feel embarrassed about the whole situation. other than that.. i really don’t think we were meant to be anyways”

“what do you mean you didn’t think you were meant to be anyways? why’d you propose in the first place then?”

he shrugged taking off a loose strand on the all might themed duvet “i don’t think i knew what marriage was about. but i was informed very recently on what it is about and my vision changed” he watched as you turned to look at him with eyebrows raised.

“oh yeah? changed to what?”

“you”

your playful demeanor dropped immediately. his words truly sinking into the both of you. he attempted to scoot closer to you, but you backed away hesitantly.

“izuku we can’t do this. where you break up with ochako and come running to me? i’m not a second choice you know that right?” this is what you had always wanted, but at this moment it didn’t feel that way. with the current circumstances how else were you supposed to feel?

izuku’s eyes widened when he heard that and redness quickly creeped up his neck. he held both hands up shaking his head “that’s not it i swear! you were never my second choice. in fact, you were always my first. i could just never admit it to myself that maybe, maybe we could make it work romantically. i- i am attracted to you and everything like that! maybe i was with uraraka for so long that i didn’t notice what was right in front of me”

your throat had gone dry. was this really happening? the boy you’d been crushing on for eternity is finally asking you out after leaving his longtime girlfriend. totally normal, and totally not a chance you were willing to give up.

you wasted no time grabbing both of his cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss. startled was an understatement as he felt his lips connecting to yours. though as he realized what was truly happening, he wasn’t complaining. he shut his eyes moving one hand to your cheek and the other on your waist.

despite the quick start, the kiss was soft and slow. tongues gently brushing together in steady movements. when you pulled away, there was a goofy smile on your face. izuku trailed more kisses from your cheek, to your jaw, right down your neck.

4. you were a damned good kisser

“you’ve got a lot of work to do. i hope you know that”

izuku hummed nodding his head “i’m willing to work for it”

“hm.. izu?”

“yeah” he mumbled clearly not wanting to your time be interrupted.

“i’m not saying this doesn’t feel nice, because it does, but can we save it? for one your mom is on the other room. and two? all might is staring dead into my soul”

he pulled away face bright red turning to the poster you were talking about. there he was in all his glory. all might standing there in his signature hero suit, beady blue eyes staring directly at the viewer. izuku turned back to you not being able to contain his laughter. you were right behind him leaning your head on his shoulder in a fit of giggles.

5. you were his best friend

taglist! @sagejin @crybabyl0l @yoihoshi-maki @reads-stuff-quietly @aejabba @valenspuppy @v3n7s 🫶🏾

let me know if you want to be added!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hello! I’ve been back and forth on writing you this bc I’m nervous but eh fuck it, I have no shame. So first off, I just want to say that you, Salome, are an absolutely stunning and brilliant writer. As someone who majored in classical studies in college, I was completely blown away by Fatum Nos Iungebit. The world you built was so deeply immersive and characterization of König, in that story as well as your other headcanons, is perfect. For the past week or so, I’m going to be honest, I’ve been going through your blog because I’ve been so hungry for more and the only reason I haven’t interacted more is that 1. I don’t wanna feel like a creep and 2. I was so scared of you blocking me for ‘’spam-liking” or whatever. I can assure you that I am a real person and I’ve been enjoying everything I’ve seen. I came across one concept however, that definitely got my neurons firing and that’s the idea of belly dancer reader x könig and I have some thoughts I wanted to share with you if that’s okay. :)

So I’ve been a belly dancer for almost a decade (I actually celebrate my ten year anniversary next year!). I was part of a belly dance performance troupe at my old university and I currently dance with a studio in my new city. It’s genuinely one of the great passions of my life. I’ve performed at all kinds of venues and for all different occasions from festivals to galas to charity events to hookah bars, so I definitely have some performing experience under my belt, well as what audiences are like. So when I saw the idea of König being mesmerized by a dancer at a wedding, I went !!!

I want to add the caveat that this is based on my experience as a dancer living in the US, and while I’ve performed for SWANA audiences (which is always an amazing experience 🥰) and non-SWANA audiences, I can’t speak for what it’s like in other countries. So, in my ✨personal✨ experience as a belly dancer going on a decade, it’s pretty rare that men will approach dancers during or after a performance—especially to actively hit on her. And believe it or not, it’s because many of them are actually intimidated! I have seen the most seemingly cockiest, proudest men just stare blankly and stand back while we do our thing. If anything, it’s usually women who approach us, gushing about our performances or asking where they can take classes and stuff. Women tend to be the first ones to get up and dance with us, shower us with tips, etc. (again, very much my personal experience as someone living in the US). When it comes to more family-friendly events like weddings and stuff, we also get a lot of kids approaching and that’s always so adorable and sweet—especially when the little babies think we’re princesses. 😭

So back to König, especially Y!König. 😈 he’s at the wedding. He’s mopey. He’s picking at his plate of chicken and rice. He’s happy for his friend and his bride, but a little bitter and jealous that he’ll never get to be that happy. Then, a mejance (essentially an entrance/overture piece of music) swells over the speakers and out comes the dancer, adorned in an Irina Sheyner number (she’s an absolutely STUNNING costume designer, plsplsplsPLS look her up 😭), veil flying behind her. She does her mejance, a drum solo, and at some point…she does a sword number. The level of control she has to be able to balance the sword on her head in impressive, but König can’t help but imagine what it would be like for to dance wielding his knives in hand. Finally, dancer opens up the floor and in typical faction brings out the bride and groom to dance with her, and then most of the other guests follow. Not König though. He hangs back and watches as this beautiful dancer holds the guests in the palm of her hand. Gone is the cocky, brutal soldier, and only the shy, anxious boy remains, the one who would always be left out of games at recess and who wasn’t invited to birthday parties. König has never been the dancing type, but he can’t even bring himself to offer her a few of the banknotes or dollars or whatever currency he’s using. He just stares, and she’s completely oblivious.

A while later, he’s getting ready to leave, when he spots Dancer. Her makeup and hair still done up, but she’s now fully cloaked and awkwardly lugging her suitcase and bags full of props and other equipment across the poorly paved parking lot. König zeroes in on her and before he knows it, he’s approaching her, asking her if she needs help carrying her stuff. Dancer, surprised but this gigantic man suddenly appearing before her, flashes a winning smile at him and says he can. König easily lugs the stuff to Dancer’s car. She thanks him profusely and just like that, she drives away.

It’s only a few hours later that the obsession starts to creep in. König, who’s ordinarily not a big social media user, is now checking the feeds and stories of his friends who attended the wedding. Finally, he comes across one friend who posted a video of themself with the dancer and tagged her Instagram. König can’t click on it fast enough and suddenly, he’s greeted by dozens of images and photos of Dancer. Some are adorably mundane. He finds out that Dancer teaches classes at a studio nearby, and some of the videos consist of dancer teaching basic moves to the camera. There are other videos of her at the local hookah bar, where she performs on a regular basis. König sees one particularly video of Dancer doing a piece of floor work, that same sword balanced proudly on her head as she’s propped back on her arms, her gorgeous hips undulating toward the sky. König feels a dark wave of heat wash over him. He jokingly thinks to himself that maybe he should take up hookah. But one thing is for certain, she’s going to be his one day. He’ll just have to be sneaky about it, subtle.

He clicks the follow button on Dancer’s instagram. She has a few thousand followers. Surely she can’t notice one faceless profile, right? 😈😈😈😈😈😈

Anyway, that’s all I have for now. I know you’re taking a break from fics but if you see this I want you to know you’re an amazing writer. Lots of love! 💖💖💖💖

Ughhh and another lovely soul 😭💗 I don't know what's going on in here this week but both you and anon have really made my heart swell!

And please please please, spam liking is never frowned upon here (I don't know why anyone would block someone who's clearly not a bot for loving your stuff?!) It's such a delight if I see that someone has liked a ton of things instead of just one. It's the highest compliment and praise! ❤️🥺

And your bellydancer prompt/drabble is so mouthwatering, god. If I'm being honest, I'd read whatever you wrote for this thing in a hot minute because you have the skill and you've done the research (an actual bellydancer in my inbox?! Ok Salome try not to be a creep) and the premise is just. GAH. So good, especially with yandere König! ❤️❤️❤️

I have to reveal I wrote like 8 chapters of a story relatively close to this in the fall: Stalker!König obsessing about reader, invading her DMs on Instagram and literally stalking her. She's not a bellydancer, but damn if I didn't think about changing her into one... :) The story is on hold for now, but here is a little snippet as a thank you gift!

CW: Yandere/Stalker!König, harassing, obsessive behavior

I’m sorry, Liebling. You were too beautiful yesterday. I got carried away.

You wake up just to see that your phone is full of messages. From him, of course. He’s created another account on Instagram.

I’m just a man.

You ignore it altogether, even if there’s messages and emails from other people too. You simply go to brush your teeth, hearing how the phone buzzes on your desk.

I know it was disrespectful. I could never call my wife that. Will you forgive me?

You sigh and finish with your morning routine, but the phone buzzes again.

I sent you flowers. Did you get them?

It’s like he knows when you’re awake, because you can see the messages from your screen without having to unlock it. Even if he refreshed your conversation every minute, every second, he can’t possibly see that you’ve seen them yet.

It bugs you to no end, this feeling that he somehow knows that you’re awake. It’s like he knows your every move. It’s the most unnerving thing, and makes you think about horrible scenarios where he has broken into your house while you’re at work, to install cameras or microphones or something. You feel like you’re about to go mad if this nightmare goes on.

You go to the front door, but hesitate a while before you turn the knob.

What if it’s a trap?

What if he wants to kill you because you yelled at him last night at the pub...? What if there’s a bomb or something that goes off when you open the door, what if he aims at you with a gun from across the street and kills you on your doorstep this morning?

Just what the actual fuck does this guy even want with you...

You sigh with a broken heart and some broken nerves, deciding it’s as good a way to go as any. You turn the knob and open the door, only to find the usual porch, and a large bouquet of dark red roses planted there.

More ice sinks into your stomach as you witness the evidence of him knowing where you live. But the fact that he chose to send red roses… Ugh, this guy is so old-fashioned and so unimpressive that it’s somewhat a dull surprise to actually see flowers on that porch.

Who buys red roses these days?

Couldn’t he have picked peonies or something, something to go with your other decor… Red roses are so eighties, so funeral-like, so boring.

You sigh and go and take the flowers to the trash. Then you walk back to your house, make sure the door is locked tight, and go back to your phone to type a message.

Did you see that?

The answer arrives immediately.

What? ❤️

I threw your flowers in the trash.

There’s bit of a pause after that. Your wannabe boyfriend clearly hasn’t got his eye on you at every given moment. That’s a bit of a surprise, almost a disappointment, actually. But only if you were any more crazy.

The reply comes after about 30 seconds, after a series of Typing… bumping up and down on the screen.

I’m sad.

You get some satisfaction from that, but the first reaction is a tiny, tiny dagger to the heart. You sigh – you do nothing but sigh these days – not only because of his message, but also because you can’t seriously be having a moment of compassion for your stalker, for god's sake.

You make me sad, Liebling 💔 Are you still angry with me?

You throw the phone away and go to make yourself some breakfast, only to stop and turn when you hear the phone buzz again.

I’ll send you more flowers.

Jesus…

You unlock the screen in a frenzy and type a reply in mere seconds.

Don’t bother. I’ll throw them in the bin too.

Typing…

You have to keep them at some point. Trash bins get full so soon.

STOP HARASSING ME.

You throw the phone away for good this time, and don’t come back to it for another hour. You eat your breakfast with squirming insides and a rattled heart, waiting for someone to come bring you flowers at any given moment.

But no one ever comes.

You check your phone before going to work, but there’s nothing from him there. You go and block his new profile, unsurprised to see that there are no pictures this time, not even a profile picture (well, there is one, but it’s only a black circle), just in case. You don’t know why you didn’t block him in the first place.

There’s a radio silence for a few days. You spend them at the edge of your seat, with lots of trouble sleeping, but soon start to ease into the fact that maybe he finally had enough. Maybe you were not as interesting or attractive as he thought when he met you in person…

Wait, what?

Gosh, you can’t be this desperate... You simply can’t. This has to end.

You don’t talk about him in therapy, mainly to convince yourself that you’re not thinking about him at all. You’re not missing him harassing and stalking you, and you’re not disappointed that he didn’t send you enough flowers to fill your entire bin.

You know you should address this: this crazy need to be something groundbreaking to someone. To want someone to be this obsessed with you, no matter how sick that someone was. You know you would have gone to the police if your stalker was the sleazy, weak-wristed man from the pub. You would’ve packed your bags and moved houses already, changed your name and closed your social media accounts, quit everything if your stalker was small and ugly and weak.

But now that you know he’s relatively good-looking, does something dangerous and has a lot of money, and looks like he could fuck and fight half the city by himself, you’re not in that much of a hurry to go to the authorities.

You’re even a bit sad that your stalker hasn’t given you any fevered attention these past few days... He hasn’t even asked you how you’ve been.

No one has asked you how you’ve been: no one ever does. You have to wade through this life all by yourself: depressed and anxious and crazy. Lonely… And horny.

Gods, you just want someone to hold you at night… Someone strong, and big, someone who would pay a few bills for you, take care of you and give you a round of good sex…

Your phone buzzes from time to time, but there’s no message from him. One night before going to sleep, relatively early, so early that it could be called the bedtime for old spinsters, you break down and cry a little. It’s not a wail: only a soft little sob, a few sniffles and a couple of tears until your nose gets clogged and the pillow is wet.

Your phone buzzes, and you reach for it, feeling so, so pathetic when you hope it would be him.

And the message is from him.

You’re the most beautiful woman on this earth. I know I fucked up. I’m just a horny dog and I don’t deserve you.

You sniffle and rise to sit, your whole system fully awake now. Oh god... You’re so fucked.

The message makes you feel incredibly good and sweet, almost giddy. It feels like he’s kneeled right there in front of you, like a knight who has misbehaved in the throes of his lust. You know it’s ridiculous, but you start to smile a little, and the tears dry on their own. The merry feeling is followed by righteous rage, a little fit, because he’s made you wait for days, he’s tortured you in every way possible, and he does absolutely nothing right.

You unlock the screen and start to type, not thinking it through at all before hitting send.

That’s right.

Fuck… Shit. That was a mistake. No, a huge error.

Why did you have to send that? Stooping to his level, sending stupid things like that…

You put the phone away quickly, then reach for it again to delete what you just send. But it’s too late.

I can be a good dog if you forgive me.

The message is waiting for you already, and when you don’t reply, the oppressive, ominous Typing… hits on the screen once more. God, how could you be so stupid…

I’ll kill anyone you need me to kill. I'll give you money, whatever you need. A new kitchen so you can cook me something nice? I’ll be a good dog, I promise.

What did you even expect?

Everything always blows up when you give him attention: any dumb person knows better than to give this hungry dog a bone. You’re just too fond of digging your own grave, it seems.

There’s no end to the messages: this guy starts typing a new one every time he has sent the last.

I’ll fuck you like a good dog too….

You lean your forehead to your palm, trying to figure out a way to stop this.

And then–

Fuck, now I’m hard

You take a quick breath of air and put the phone away.

Please don’t send a dick pic, please don’t send a dick pic…

The phone buzzes.

Look how hard you make me

There’s a picture attached, but you can’t see it when the screen is locked.

This is what I have to live with, day and night…

Message after message, your phone buzzes, and you check them quickly from your screen, swearing to yourself that you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of opening the conversation and checking the image he sent you. You know perfectly well what you will find if you do that.

But after only a minute or two, you unlock the phone, and open the conversation with your heart ramming in your chest.

Just one quick look...

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

plsplsplspls a little more info on the preschool teacher!reader and cult!sugu!!!! gnawing on the bars of my enclosure because (sabé lore drop) i’m going to start going to school to become a preschool teacher!!!! this one actually has me leaping for joy

SABÉ !!!!!!! YOU’RE GONNA BE A PRESCHOOL TEACHER!!!!!????? YOU’RE SO COOOOOOLLLL PLS KNOW I’M CHEERING YOU ON ALWAYS 🥹🥹🥹

AND OFC!!!!!! i’ll give you all the crumbs you want!!!!!! it really is just a very fluffy fic 😭 cult!geto is like your big smitten murder puppy …… wants to kill your coworker for putting his hand on your shoulder but he promised you he wouldn’t cause trouble tonight… he’s just so silly and funny . i looove this side of cult!geto so much and i think it’s pretty unexplored!!!! :’3

i also have this scene planned out in my head where he has to watch your kids (as in . your students) for a moment ….. and he pretends to be disgusted (would it be too much to have him call them baby monkeys because that’s sounds so fucking offensive but i really feel like he would 💀💀) but you can tell he’s soft for children. one of the babies crawls up in his lap and he can’t help but coo …. he’s Mother……

BUT YES <3 he is so supportive of you and your career!!!!! even though it involves taking care of non-sorcerers ……. your biggest hypeman always :3c

ask me about my wips !! <33

[blackwolfstabs]

Omg I just thought of something

Can I get your team Loomis headcanons for shits and giggles pls I feel it would be so fun plsplsplspls

-🩵

uhhhh OF COURSE!!

for shits and giggles and you, the billy to my sam: 🩶

Team Loomis Headcanons

──────── GIFS not mine

don't you judge me billy ok? I MEAN IT 😤😂 (side note: these are based in a universe where Billy's not dead because it's easier and i love thinking about it lol)

Billy wants to be a dad rather than just a father to Sam, but he doesn't know how to do it in the right way, which leads him to fall back on trying to guide her in the right direction, even if he's hard on her about it.

They bicker CONSTANTLY. like we're talking almost every time they have a casual conversation. they're a lot alike so they butt-heads like you would not believe. you want proof? this is from something personal that i wrote a while back in an AU where everyone that was killed in the Scream verse was resurrected. Christina, Billy, Sam, and Tara all live together (just gonna share the dialogue because context is a thing and you'd be lost if i didn't give you a whole explanation):

CHRISTINA: *talking about Tara, who she had to wake up for a doctor's appointment* She's grumpy, so that's your fair warning. I gave her 5 minutes to come out here so she can eat before we go. We'll see if she does it... SAM: You should keep that in mind next time you think she's the good one. I don't give you half the hard times she does. BILLY: Maybe with waking up, that is. SAM: What's that supposed to mean? BILLY: Honestly, you're a handful, and you're 26. SAM: Well, you're 43, and you're a handful, so... BILLY: You watch your backtalk, Sam. SAM: You watch your front-talk, Billy. BILLY: Hey. Those are fighting words. SAM: Bring it. CHRISTINA: Alright, you two. Give it a rest. *beat* Samantha, you really should watch your mouth though. SAM: Me? This one started it. He should watch his. *mockingly* Honestly, I'm 26 years old. BILLY: Oh, really? You wanna play that game?

these hcs are for @alphawolfstabs, so i thought he'd enjoy that, but to everyone else, sorry that was long haha i didn't expect to share it.

anyways, back to the rest of the headcanons!

everything is Sam's fault. or Billy just blames everything on Sam. it doesn't matter who did it or why, if someone asks, you can bet you'll hear Billy answer "SAM!" and it drives Sam crazy.

if Sam isn't feeling well, is hurt, tired, or emotional, Billy is the first to notice (he notices even before Tara does).

as much as it doesn't seem like it, Sam trusts Billy a lot. he's always been right, when it comes to her and deep down (and i mean DEEP DEEP down) there's a place in her heart for him. in other words, she wouldn't admit it, but she does love him.

Billy loves teasing Sam just to piss her off. he does it for fun.

Sam disses the crap out of Billy just to piss him off. she does it for fun.

they make one hell of a fighting team (this one is canon but imagine them in the flesh together)

───────────────────────────

just a few for you right there. let me know if you want more and i'll do them in the future! 😉

ty for requesting these!! 🩶

[elcheese]

HYDE & SIENA

Finally,, my babies,, I went for a more simple style so I won't have to tear my hair out for this

Both belong to me :33 my creepypasta ocs,, (plsplsplspls ask me stuff about them before i ho insande I'll even draw her answeurbg jt)

Separate info about them below the cut

I hope to God Tumblr doesn't fuck with the quality

[s1llyp3rson]

remade my tkab oc :3

(I totally didn't got based off madoka's hair color)

The sillies (pls ask me things about them plsplsplspls)

[kajibunny]

hii!! uh this is my first time here (also my first time to selfships community >///<), I don't have any wind breaker friends to talk about yet so when I saw that you have a selfship too, I couldn't resist my curiosity!!...can I just say that kaijimii is one of the most adorable pair I ever encountered?!! I love childhood friends to lovers trope so much and I couldn't help but ask about your selfship!! Hope this is okay for a newbie like me to ask...

What do you like each other?

How did you know what you were feeling back then was more than friends?

Who fall in love first between the two of you?

If you decide to answer this, thank you so much!! please never stop spreading the love, this ship is so sweet and I want more of them huhu

hi hi!!! a sweet new mootie spotted!! yue!!! ♡ you're always welcome to talk abt your selfship with me plsplsplspls do!!! i bet you and sakura are sooo cute!! i'd also love to be your wind breaker friend if you're alright with me!! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) hihi

kyaaaaaa oh my!! adorable pair??? kajimii??? i'm ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ so honored to hear you say that and ofc i'd love to answer your questions!!

kajimii q&a time??? aaaa those are such great q's!!! asked kaji as well for his pov xD

ꕤ what do you like abt each other?

mii: everything!! but especially how he's so honest and secretly likes his peers and classmates alot! he's also a great leader and gives wonderful advice without realizing, he's a great listener too. his uhh...his kisses are also so sweet, must be all those lollipops! i also love snuggling him cuz his hoodie is so soft! not to mention his impeccable music taste...oh um, we'll be here all day if i keep talking about what i love about kaji ren ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

kaji: i like listening to her talk for hours on end, i don't ever get tired of her endless rambling. sometimes i wish i could play her voice on loop through my headphones.

ꕤ how did you know what you were feeling back then was more than friends?

mii: i always find myself blushing around him (>///<)

kaji: i've just never felt that way about someone before. i can't explain it but mii just makes me feel lighter somehow. like even though she's so annoying sometimes, i can never get angry at her.

ꕤ who fell in love first?

mii: i fell first, but ren fell harder! ^^ (kaji walks over to her and takes away the mic)

kaji: (covers mii's ears with his headphones so she doesn't hear his answer) i never told her this but i've always loved her as far as i can remember, but mii was the one who confessed to me first. that brat beat me to it, i had a plan to tell her and everything.

thank you so much for these!! this is so fun <333

love always,

✿ mii ✿

[scarasimping]

a brat reader with ningguang PLSPLSPLSPLS IF YOU DO THIS I WOULD LOVE IT HAVE A GOOD DAY

note: so this was literally my first ask ever and i just kept putting it off TT im not really happy with what i wrote but we need more fics for the sapphic genshin fans !!

also i hope my description of a vibrator makes sense, i was picturing like one of thos rabbit vibrators (i think thats the word?) the one that goes inside fem parts and also stimulates the clit

not proofread lmao whoops

words: 900ish

contains: dom!ningguang x fem!reader, oral (ningguang receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader has a vibrator in them, bondage, edging, ningguang is both nice and mean at the same time, let me know if i missed anything lolz

NSFW BELOW THE CUT !! MINORS DNI !!

If there was anywhere you loved to be most, it was on your knees in front of Ningguang . Despite her piercing gaze, she still petted your head with such care and gentleness, her fingers twirling through the strands of your hair. your head laid on her thigh, hands tied in front of you with an expensive, golden silk ribbon. Merely ten minutes ago she had you underneath her, playing with your pretty hole and using her fingers to stretch you open until you were writhing underneath her frame. 

Her fingers pressed against your insides, prodding at all of your sweet spots, going until nothing filled your mind but how she felt inside of you. Her lips found yours, kissing you slowly and passionately as if she were savoring the taste of you. Though tied, your hands grabbed onto anything you could get ahold of - your own leg, Ningguang's forearm, or even just holding each other. All so you could keep your grip on reality as she gave you pleasure that sent you to the heavens.

That was, until she pulled away completely just before you could cum. Ningguang smirked as you whined underneath her, tears brimming your eyes.

"Please..please, why?" You begged underneath her. She merely clicked her tongue and stared down at you, a devilish glint in her eyes.

"You were the one who wouldn't let me work earlier, whining about how mean I was for not paying attention to you..." She held out the fingers that were previously inside you in front of her. "So now, you're going to take what I give you, and hopefully learn some patience. Got it, dear?" she taunts,

A huff escapes your mouth as you grind down on nothing, hoping for some friction. 

Staring up at Ningguang, you notice she was still holding her fingers out to you. Your arousal coated her digits, and she stared at them with a faux curiosity, before telling you to open your mouth. You just stared at her, not moving an inch, so she took her other hand and pried your jaw open.

As soon as your lips parted, her fingers darted inside, pressing down on your tongue.

"Clean them for me, dear." She ordered, and you obeyed without a second thought. She smiled as your tongue swirled around her fingers, slowly pulling away when she deemed them clean enough. A string of saliva connected her fingertips to your tongue, and you swear her gaze got even more intense.

"Let's see what else you can do with that mouth of yours, other than complain." She hummed in amusement, before climbing off of you, sitting on the edge of the bed. "On your knees." 

Only an idiot would disobey her when she asks you like that, which is how you got to where you are now.

On your knees in front of Ningguang with your hands tied, a vibrator shoved inside of you as your lips latched into her puffy clit. Her thighs squeeze your head, limiting your hearing, but that didn't matter because you were making her feel good.

"You don't get to cum until you make me cum," she had said, yet the vibrator pressed deliciously on your sweet spot inside you and hooked around to pay attention to your clit as well. It would be a miracle if you could last that long.

Your hands tug restlessly at the silk holding them together, itching to touch her, to grab her thighs and pull her closer, to lose yourself in her. Yet still, you could do nothing but try your best to please her with only your mouth.

On your knees in front of Ningguang, hands tied like you were praying to and worshiping her. Yes, this is where you belonged.

Wrapping your lips softly along her clit, you push yourself into her, starting slow at first. Soft little sucks onto her sensitive bud before swirling your tongue along it. Her hands tangle into your hair, the claws on her index and middle finger scratching softly at your scalp. You were eager: both for her orgasm and your own. 

The vibrations inside you were almost too much, tears pooling along your lashes as you tried to fight back the urge to beg some more for your release. Ningguang wouldn't hear it. She had already decided on her punishment for you and you couldn't disobey her again.

As you continue your movements along her beautifully wet folds and clit, and her orgasm gets closer, her hands tug more on your hair, pushing you into her. Her thighs squeezed around your head, the soft flesh squished against your ears and muffling all other sounds.

You couldn't even hear her pleas and moans at her getting close, until finally she releases on your tongue. Her warm liquids are sweet on your tastebuds, better than any of the wine or nectar she could buy.

Not long after, your own release follows. The tension in your stomach snaps and spills onto your thighs and marble floor beneath you. 

Ningguang runs her hand through your hair as you lean your head on her thigh, cooing about how cute you look and how good you did for her. Her hand comes down to rest against your cheek, thumb lovingly running across the chub there.

"So good for me, you listened to me so well during your punishment…what do you say I reward you now?"

[storiesoflilies]

https://www.tumblr.com/storiesoflilies/755644317549395968/a-naya-anonymously-message-me-3-things-you?source=share

1) what's your favorite fanfic of all time? the one you're thinking about almost every day

2) how can someone become a moot with you?

3) what does your dream date look like?

hello my darling nonie!!

thankyou very much for feeding my ask addiction, hehe i love answering them in between bursts of writing :3

now lemme answer!

1 - my fave fanfic of all time? hmmm.

this is such a big biiiig question. i have a lot of talented moots, and i have quite a few of their fics that i think about all the time. like @neptuneblue ‘cupid’s quiver’ and @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ‘sometimes i long to eat you up’. any of @dollsuguru snippets i greedily scoff too lol. @pinknipszz heian era sukuna drabbles are little gemstones, the vibes are immaculate. ooo i also think of @bungalowbear ‘wolves of tokyo’ too, again because, VIBES!!

however my top one that takes up a lot of my thoughts is the series ‘the odyssey’ by @lovenona . i really take my hat off to this author and the series for getting me back into writing. the story is so brilliantly crafted, and the writing is absolutely astonishing and dreamy. adele took my brain to another world and needs to win a fanfic award ASAPPPP!

i have my fav art/fics under my favorites tag if you’d like to see more :)

2 - you wanna be moots?!?!? let’s be moots :3

honestly though i really don’t mind anyone reaching out to me, as long as we interact in a respectful way and keep it relatively light. please don’t be shy, i really hope i’m not intimidating hehe :)

and if you are too shy, plsplsplspls give me an emoji or something so i can assign it to you! then we can still chat and i’ll know it’s you (kinda, lol) (btw :3nonie if you’re seeing this, I MISS YOU WHERE DID YOU GO?!??)

helpful hint i guess – I LOVE TOJI!! in case you haven’t noticed already, i have a lot of toji brainrot hehe, so that is the way to my heart eheh :3 @tadabzzzbee is well aware of this hahaha

commenting your thoughts or how much you liked my fics really makes my day, and chances are i will instantly follow you if you’re consistently interacting with my pieces! because while i do notice my regular likers, but it’s people who comment that i really remember and am more inclined to follow!

3 - dream date?!?!?!

HMMMM!!! i suppose a picnic date on the beach, on a day when it’s pleasantly warm and i won’t be cold at all, so i can wear my pretty summer clothes. strawberries and fresh cream is a MUSTTTT!! ooo and fresh lemonade would be wonderful too hehe.