#sorry I’m procrastinating today can you tell

[comradekatara]

one thing that pisses me off is when people supposedly love sokka but then say things that just don’t make sense. like that post that’s like “sokka was so charismatic he was charming everyone” no that was aang. aang is the one being charming and charismatic and friendly and beloved by everyone everywhere he goes. meanwhile many people straight up found sokka offputting due to his being a miserable little hater. neurotic freak. paranoid sleep-deprived and kills people without remorse. like he straight up gives off bad vibes a lot of the time. yes he does pull bitches and father figures, but that’s because cute girls and fatherly adult men are the only two demographics of people he actually makes an effort to be nice to. i’m all here for people appreciating sokka, but we need to stop acting like what his makes him great is the fact that he’s some extroverted life of the party when a) he isn’t b) aang, however, very much is and c) he’s literally so depressed that he makes it everyone else’s problem just by standing in the same room as them with his utterly miserable vibes. get it right

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 10 * mv1

the 2023 season has ended and geri horner has made the mistake of inviting you to a house party where max is in attendance

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: swearing again huhuhu

notes: the real reason i procrastinated this is because i'm a loser and can't come to terms with the fact that this series is ending like HUUUUH

(series masterlist)

(prev)

you stare at the well-lit home, lips pressed together as you debate in your mind how much right you still have to be here. sure, you were personally invited by geri horner despite knowing about the breakup recently like everybody else, but you’re not quite sure if you belonged.

after all, you’re not max’s girlfriend anymore, and this is more of a team party to celebrate the season. you’re sort of out of place.

by the side of the house, you can see the strobing lights reflecting off the walls and the music coming faintly coming through. it’s still early in the evening, which makes you tilt your head in confusion as to why the party has already started.

perhaps someone has already taken over the playlist to start the party earlier than planned by the hosts themselves. something tells you daniel and yuki are already in the backyard in fits of giggles over their music choices.

because you can very clearly make out the high-pitched tone of baby shark playing.

“(y/n)!” a disembodied voice says over the music, a familiar redhead walking on the grass of her front yard with her arms held open wide for you. “i’m so glad that you made it!”

realistically, you were not going to come at all. but when the older woman texted you about a week ago about not forgetting your work commitments within the area like you mentioned a couple of months ago, it was hard to reject her all together.

especially when she expressed to you how much she missed linking arms with you every other weekend with shallow and petty rumours you hear; wine glasses in your hands as your boys did the racing part of the weekend.

just one last hoorah for the better part of the past 6 years you had.

you never really got to thank geri for her neverending and unconditional hospitality all because you were max’s girlfriend.

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you mimic her gush, smiling widely as you gladly take her in for an embrace. “i’m sorry i didn’t get to meet you earlier. i was swamped with meetings and presentation preps.”

“oh, don’t even worry about it,” geri laughs, waving your apologies off as she pulls away. “you know, christian promised a cute little performance tonight for the team?”

you raise your eyebrows. every year, christian horner hosts their annual year-end party in his home. and every year alike, he will tease everyone about some performance that he will be doing against his best wishes. they never come.

it gets max excited and giggly at the possibility, only to be disappointed at the end of the day.

“do you know if he will actually do it this time?”

geri links arms with you, hunching as a giggle passes her lips. “he said because you made the extra effort to come tonight, he’ll finally do it just for you.”

no. it’s because this is the last of their parties thrown you’ll ever attend.

when you put it like that, your heart kind of hurts. you had no idea how integral being on the paddock on race weekends was to you. not until today.

you feign a laugh, wiping your palms on your blouse. “tell christian i’m so touched.”

“don’t even worry about it,” geri laughs, squeezing your arm. “come on, let’s go to the backyard where everyone currently is. you arrived pretty early, so i’m guessing you’re not quite used to the organised chaos.”

max was never a diva unless it came to attending parties or being at the paddocks on time. it’s like he had a personal vendetta against coming early.

“yeah, i can hear daniel speaking coherently so that’s always a sign,” you grin, following her across the grass patch to the side of the house. you don’t plan to stay very long.

the reason you came before the actual party started is so that you can avoid max. at least you can tell yourself that you at least tried to avoid regression of all the progress you have made.

as you make your way into the backyard, loud squeals and shrieks slowly come in as you see christian’s kids running around. on the dj table is in fact daniel and yuki attempting a remix of the children’s song as they hype up the girls.

“oh, it’s (y/n)!” yuki throws his hands in the air, jumping off the elevated dj booth. he jogs over to you and immediately throws his arms around you. “i haven’t seen you in so long!”

“yuki!” you squeal, arms wrapped around him as he picks you up, spinning you around before putting you down gently. “i miss the way you cook for me, you know? i don’t quite do it the same as you.”

“i’ll send you the recipes!” yuki beams, pulling away from you. “and then you’ll have to let me try them someday — that’s my only rule.”

"you're the boss," you shrug jokingly, rolling your eyes playfully. yuki taps you on the shoulder politely, answering the screaming kids in the backyard.

he politely excuses himself, jumping onto the dj platform again.

"oh, hey, it's you!" you look up to meet daniel's eyes, the australian taking you into a tight hug as you sway side to side. "i've missed you."

"my god, hey," you hug him tightly, taking a deep breath before letting it out shakily. "i'm sorry i'm so bad at answering your texts! i've just been so busy and totally not in the mood to talk..."

daniel gives her an understanding smile, squeezing her shoulder. "you know, i totally get it. don't sweat it, mate."

"thank you. is heidi coming today?" you ask softly, looking around for the other woman's presence.

"a little later than usual. she's coming from work," daniel explains. he leads her towards a patio table, arm slung over her shoulder as they walk. "so, how have you been?"

"hey, look who decided to arrive!" liam laughs, beckoning the older driver towards the filled table. he lifts his bottle of beer up and sends max a small nod to welcome him. "how nice of you to join us!"

max scrunches his nose. "thank you," he lifts his hand to try and quiet down the cheering from the majority of the table, "no need to clap. i was going to come anyway."

"have you had dinner?" yuki asks, a plate in his hands with some food still. "the food is great."

liam chirps, pointing at the grill near the patio of the house. "lucky for you, there's still food from the barbecue earlier."

max smiles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. he takes the empty seat next to daniel. "if christian's the one who grilled them, i might have to lie and say i've already eaten dinner."

"don't be ridiculous," hannah laughs. "christian hasn't touched that grill as per geri's request for parties like these. you know who does the grilling this time of the year."

max tilts his head. it takes him a while to process, but when he realisation strikes him, he feels his heart sink in his chest. you were here?

he almost wants to just call another uber to go home knowing that he missed your presence at the party. every year at parties like these in christian's home, you're in charge of that grill.

simply because christian gets too caught up in conversation with those around him and only produces near burnt meat. everybody has apparently complained about it for years, but when you came into the picture, you kicked the team principal away from his food duties.

you're much more efficient with the grill, anyway.

hannah's jaw drops when she notices max's silence. she presses her lips together. "oh, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-"

"it's alright," max smiles, dismissing her apology. "i just didn't know she attended."

"attended?" daniel snorts, leaning back in his seat. typically, daniel would never drop a fact he isn't sure you wanted out, but he's very wasted in his defence. "she's still here. geri called her in a while ago."

max's world starts to spin. this could be his chance. the only one left to make things right with you.

in fact, it didn't matter the outcome of the night. he just wanted to talk to you - see you one more time before he calls it quits on the hopes of ever having you back in his arms.

"she's still here?" max perks up, his hands gripping on the armrests of the patio seat like his life depended on it. he looks around the table, at liam, at hannah, everyone, but they don't give him an answer.

they just stare at him, lips parted as max's chest starts to heave from the simple thought of you being a few metres from him. he throws his hands in the air. "guys?"

"yes," yuki spits out, putting his plate on the table. "she is still here. she's inside the house with geri and the kids."

he breathes out shakily, scanning the exterior of the home. he nods, all the while he feels like his body is floating. he never thought he’d ever come by you ever again after everything that happened.

especially with all the rumours that can be taken out of proportion without you talking, it’s all definitely too much.

"oh, i need to talk to her," max says hurriedly, scrambling to get to his feet. he is only able to take one step away from the table when the lights go out and christian's voice is heard on the speakers set up at the dj booth.

he sighs, forced to sit back down again. of course this is the year christian decides to follow through with his promises to perform for the entire team.

daniel sighs, though a sloppy smile stretches his lips. "oooh, christian's going to get down and dirty," he mutters, wiggling in his seat while he giggles with his beer bottle right by his mouth.

that’s when he sees you, running out of the doors that lead to the backyard, surrounded by christian’s squealing and giggling children that sounded above the booming music. your hair is up in a claw clip, your fringe framing your face just as well.

while christian’s performance is something he’s been looking forward to his entire formula 1 career, he can’t help but bask in the overwhelming familiarity that washes over him at the sight of you.

you stop right before the table, the other end from him, hands wrapped around geri’s arm as you watch christian in awe.

his entire world stops then and there, suddenly unsure of how to approach you. will he really be able to handle it if you refuse his apology?

how everything would crumble for him again if he left today without you back in his life the way he wants it? it just seems near impossible.

he watches you throw your head back, laughing before looking around. he tells himself to look away but he just can’t — meeting your eyes a feeling he’s been yearning for all these months without you.

you freeze when your warm eyes meet his blue ones. your jaw drops slightly, the smile is completely wiped off and you let go of geri’s arm. he sees your chest heave as you take a step back away from geri.

your stare lingers, making max contemplate if that was an invitation for him to come to you. but max cannot fathom the glistening of your eyes — are they tears or just the reflection of the lights that surround you?

the music abruptly stops, making you turn to the stage, erupting in cheers as you clap your hands.

he watches you run towards christian, throwing your arms around his team principal as your hands come up to wipe your face.

he watches you talk to him for a bit before you quickly excuse yourself to walk towards the house. here he is with an empty stomach and all the courage in the world.

he runs after you, leaving and ignoring daniel's calls for him to come back and think it over first.

"(y/n)," max calls out into the well-lit house, eyes darting all over the near empty house for you.

your shoes go against the floor, snapping max's head towards the bathroom door. chest still heaving with your fists clenched by your sides. mascara pools under your eyes; almost unnoticeable if he hadn't had you memorised like the back of his hand.

a shakey breath passes your trembling lips as you slowly drop your head. your eyes dart to the group of kids stumbling over their feet to get themselves out of the house.

a small part of all this feels planned. if not by geri, most likely christian. that damned performance was just a ruse to get you to stay longer until max arrived for the evening.

it's genius, actually.

"max."

all of the thoughts that flooded your brain when you locked eyes with him earlier are suddenly gone. something about you never wanting to see him again, or perhaps it was an 'i miss you' threatening to spill out of your mouth now that he's here?

you can't seem to remember and it's only adding to the growing frustration in your chest.

oh, how you've missed being this close of reach to him. if you really tried, you can smell his cologne from the other side of the room and you can almost imagine how his hand would feel in yours.

but you barely recognise the man standing in front of you. the same goes for him, eyes roaming every part of your body as you stand in silence.

it seems so much has changed in such a short amount of time.

you look slimmer than how max remembers you. but you look happier - a state that he has rarely seen you in for a long while. maybe the relationship really was meant to meet its end when it did.

but the tears falling on your cheeks made him convince himself otherwise. maybe you missed him too; maybe these past 2 and a half months were just as excruciating for you as it was for him.

just sitting and hoping on his maybe's again.

"fuck," max says under his breath, finally finding it in himself to walk towards you. "fuck's sake. come here."

a million possibilities run through your mind. as he makes his way over to you, you're frozen in place once more. is this really how it's going to be? after all that process you made, after all the tears.

all those were to only end up in his arms again? you being to wonder: what were all those tears and sleepless nights for if you would only run back to him?

all of your preached rationality ceases to exist when he's a pace away from you, your arms thrown around his shoulders as you bury your face into his neck. his grip around your waist is tight, his face buried in your shirt as he lifts you up slightly.

"i'm sorry," max whispers, nuzzling his face deeper into your shoulder, his own tears spilling out of his eyes to the fabric of your shirt. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have let you walk away."

but you shake your head. the mental image of that picture of max and kelly walking in the paddocks flashes in your mind suddenly. you try to unwrap his arms around you, but then he only tightens his arms around you.

"i'm sorry. i should have asked you to stay," he confesses, his mind a mess from all of the things he's thought of saying to you. "i should have told you that there's a way to work it out. it didn't have to come to a breakup."

"but you turned to her anyway!" you say through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath to muster up the courage to pull away. and you do, stumbling steps back as you go into a sob. it would have been all fine if those pictures never leaked. "you went to the one person i didn't want to see you with!"

max's hair is dishevelled, his tear-stained cheeks are flushed and his lips are swollen. "what?"

you shake your head and hold a hand up, taking another step away from him. "don't act stupid. i always knew you wanted kelly. you got what you wanted when i broke up with you, didn't you? that's why there were pictures of you together after news of our break-up leaked. isn't it, max? to rub it in my face?"

"you don't even know what you're talking about!" max fights, throwing his hands in the air. "i could say the same for you - wearing the first dress i got you out to the club and leaving with some other guy? your pictures were more suggestive than ours; we were just fucking walking!"

you laugh dryly, rolling your eyes. you wipe your eyes roughly and throw your head back. "at least i can admit if something had happened. but you're still fucking denying every little thing. you're such a cunt, max."

"i'm not denying anything."

"yeah, you are!" you point an accusing finger at him and click your tongue. "you wanted out but didn't want to be the one to rip the bandaid off! what was it, max? some sort of familiarity with me that you couldn't bear to leave?"

"absolutely not. i fucking love you!" max's eyes widen in disbelief at what he's hearing. "nothing happened with kelly - i was doing her father a favour!"

you smile slightly and raise your eyebrow. "i've heard that excuse before, max. go say it to somebody who will believe you."

max rolls his eyes. "you already broke up with me. what do i get from lying to you now?"

"who knows? maybe you just don't like the thought of me moving on," you shrug, placing your hands on your hips. "pretty self-centred if you ask me."

"literally," max takes a deep breath, "just shut up and listen to me."

"literally," you mimic him in the same tone, "there's absolutely nothing to talk about."

you turn around, pushing the hair out of your face. you've stopped crying, your throat sore from all the panting and screaming you've just done. thank god for the music booming outside - your conversation is safe from nosey ears.

maybe christian turned it up when he saw max running after you.

max shakes his head, falling silent. "you've got no fucking idea what you're talking about. i loved you then, and i love you now. if i didn't..."

"if you didn't, then what?" you snort. "you expect me to believe you?"

he takes a deep breath, locking eyes with you. he takes a cautious step forward. "i have thought about you so much since we've been apart. i don't think anything has ever been so clear to me before."

"yeah?" you smile lopsidedly. it immediately drops when he takes another step, and you set it off with a step back. "seemed pretty clear to you when you let me fucking walk out of your driver's room without another word."

max sighs. "i should have fought for you harder that night. i'm sorry."

"then why?" you cry, tears falling out of your eyes immediately. your hands come up to cover your eyes as you break into a full sob. "why didn't you chase after me? why didn't you call?"

you tear your hands away from your eyes, one palm resting on your chest while you heave. "why didn't you text me? why didn't you bother reaching out? you had every fucking opportunity, max! why did you let it get this fucking far?"

max only drops his head in shame. of course, he had his reasons not to reach out to you. "i don't know," he says softly, shaking his head. "i didn't think you still wanted to be with me. you broke up with me. i didn't know what to think. i thought it was over."

"i spent the better part of 6 years of my life with you," you say weakly. a lump forms in your throat, prompting you to close your eyes. you squeak out a sob as you drop to your knees, a soft thud coming from the contact. "and you couldn't even ask me to stay."

you look up at him, teary-eyed as you clutch onto your chest in desperation. "i would have stayed if you said don't go. i waited, max."

he nods, walking over to where you are. he gets dejavu as he drops himself next to you, sitting cross-legged in christian's apartment. it's just like the time you broke up.

you adjust yourself, sitting a proper few centimetres away from him. both of you press your backs against the wall behind you. the music is just as loud as before, consuming the silence that you let fester the air between you.

you drop your head on the wall, the sound of both your cries barely heard within the music between you.

"but i did miss you," you whisper. "every single waking moment in the days after. i kept thinking i made a mistake, and that you knew it too. i kept holding out hope for you to show up at my door, telling me off for being stupid and breaking up with you."

max just looks down at his legs. he claps his hands together, shakily trying to steady his breath as he calms from his sob. "i didn't think you'd want me back. the state of our relationship before we broke up... (y/n)... you're rational enough to admit that that wasn't going to do it for us. we needed the time apart to figure it out."

you smile to yourself, nodding slightly. barely noticeable. you let a moment pass. "nothing happened, by the way."

"hm?" he hums, turning his head to look at you.

"after the club," you admit. "i blew him off at the lobby of my apartment building. i stumbled home and fell asleep on my couch. dress, makeup, heels - the whole shebang."

max smiles. his hand flinches, two voices in his mind fighting over the next course of movement for him. he ought to make the first move once in a while.

he reaches over to you, firmly grabbing your hand. "i'm sorry i didn't know just how much you meant to me. it shouldn't have taken a breakup for me to realise that you're the love of my life."

you smile back at him, squeezing his hand. "i never wanted to break up with you." you drop your head on his shoulder. "i was just so tired. i would look at pictures of us wishing it was that simple again."

he rests his head above yours. suddenly, it all seemed so quiet. you feel your broken bones mending, the lump in your throat disappearing and a weight lifted off your shoulders.

but if it had been this easy, maybe there's something more. something you're not quite getting yet even after spending almost 3 months apart.

"i totally get it if you say no," max whispers, taking a deep breath. he can't go on without trying to make a move himself. you're already right here. "but do you wanna grab dinner some time with me?"

you lift your head, lips parting. you stare at him with wide eyes while your brain goes into overdrive. a million questions run through your head.

is this really for the best? is this a resolution you can live with?

on one hand, if you choose to be with him again, the puzzle pieces can fit the way they used to again. it will be you and him against the world once more - the way it always should have been. but how sure are you that it won't end up in shambles once more?

will you never find yourself in gut-wrenching pain ever again from what seems like the worst loss you'll experience in your life? would it even be worth it?

you take a deep breath, and you squeeze his hand.

ending 1.

ending 2.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever @lokigoeschoki @cherry-piee @telengraph @eviethetheatrefreak @hrlzy

[fakeuwus]

URS | sim jaeyun

now playing ☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡ urs by niki

"the best at being the worst, but fuck sake i'm already urs "

PAIRING: jake x femreader

SYNOPSIS: a recollection of moments that lead you to confessing your love to your best friend, jake sim.

GENRE: best friends to lovers, fluff, angst (not sorry), student au

WORD COUNT: ~3.4k

WARNINGS: one curse word, mentions of god-drinking-loss of virginity, jake is oblivious, lowercase intended (mention of jay as well) barely proofread, kinda rushed (you can tell the second part was written last HELP)

MESSAGE FROM NIC: HAPPY (late) JAKE DAY 😁 (im a victim of procrastination sorry jake ily)

one rainy day in october was one you’d never forget. you had just started the 8th grade merely a month ago and you weren’t sure how well you were liking it. until that one fateful day. the day you deemed as the best day of your life.

it didn’t start out as the best at first though. the overcast sky had made you want to sleep in more, resulting in your mother threatening that you’d have to walk to school if you didn’t wake up soon. the rain that morning was brutal and unforgiving just like how your first period teacher was going to be if you didn't get to class on time. as soon as your mom parked at the drop-off section you burst through the door and made a run for the school entrance. your tiny body was being weighed down by your damp uniform and your loafers were dragging down the hall.

the clock was ticking with one minute left to make it to class and you’re determined to make it in time. perfect attendance meant a lot to your 14-year-old self and you weren’t going to let a storm get in the way of that. before you could reach for the door handle you feel yourself collide into something hard and you fall straight onto your back. “i’m so sorry! here let me help you up,” a boy’s voice rings in your ears and when you finally are able to look up, your heart stops beating.

a single spotlight shines down (it’s really just the janky hallway lights giving this effect but you’re too hypnotized to think about it) on a boy with the most beautiful, brown eyes you’ve ever seen. a bright, wide smile adorned his lips and you swear you can hear angels singing.

you take the hand that was outstretched to you and stand up, trying your best to get yourself together. you’re internally panicking because why does such a cute boy have to witness you in this state? hair all stringy, uniform jacket half off your body, and not going to lie, you kind of smell like wet dog. you think god is testing you today, he had to be.

the boy didn’t seem to mind though. he thought it was adorable the way you were flustered from running into him. all he could do was stare at you with that smile of his while you frantically made sure everything was in place. “ready?” the mystery boy says while opening the door to the classroom, flashing you a tiny grin. it takes you a second to realize but once you walk into the classroom, your face immediately flushes red in embarrassment. all eyes are on you and cute boy.

mentally you add this to the list of many reasons why you like to be punctual: you hated the nosy gazes people shot your way when you entered a room late. “YN! you’re 5 minutes late. this is unacceptable-” “oh i’m sorry about that sir. i’m new here and got lost and yn was just showing me to class. i’m jake by the way..” jake. jake. jake. you repeat his name in your head a few times before you decide that it’s now your favorite name in the world.

when your teacher assigns jake to be your seatmate and you his tour guide, for once you’re glad you were running late. you also mentally thank god and apologize for accusing him of all the bad things that happened this morning.

two peas in a pod is how people would describe you and jake. never once leaving each other’s side since that one rainy day. you two are so attached at the hip that your family stops questioning why one is always at the other’s house and starts asking when you guys would get together. it’s your freshman year of high school and everyone around you is starting to experiment with crushes and dating so it’s only natural for parents to be curious.

jake of course, is always quick to shut it down before you can even get a word out. “mom she’s my best friend! quit asking that.” you find yourself rolling your eyes everytime he says those infamous words. you want to tell his mom that you would love for her son to be your boyfriend. that you’ve liked him the moment you laid your eyes on him. that you’re not quite sure what love is at the age of 15, but you’re so sure that you feel it whenever you’re around jake.

though you never get to say those words, his has you thinking. you realize that this whole time he never, ever refers to you as a sister, just a best friend. is it silly that your heart flutters with the tiniest amount of hope that it gives you? call it delusion but you can’t help but smile when he leaves out that one little sentence.

“what? would it be so bad to date me?” you tease and lean in, your face almost touching his. if you were to utter another word your lips would be grazing his. the air around you two shifts, no one daring to make another move. his eyes flicker towards your lips for a second and look back up to meet your stare. that split second of hesitation on his end gives you a piece of hope that maybe. just maybe. he could feel the same way about you one day.

his parents share a knowing look before they exit the kitchen, leaving you two in your own world.

three is the number of girlfriends jake has had since you met him. you think three is too many. too many that weren’t you. the first two, gaeul and chaehyun, didn’t last very long.

jake’s track record of relationships so far never threatened your friendship in any way. it always went like this: jake and said girl add each other on social media. jake and girl enter the talking stage for a week. jake and girl start dating officially on the second week. jake and girl only last the next two weeks.

on the fourth week, jake and girl break up because they’re bored and you’re there to fix his broken heart (which only takes him a day of you two playing with layla at the dog park to get over it).

you figured when he meets yizhuo during junior year, it’ll be the same routine all over again. on exactly the fourth week of them being together, you find yourself knocking on his door with two triangle kimbaps and two mango flavored melona ice bars in a plastic bag. it’s what you always brought to cheer him up from a tragic (not really) breakup.

the door swings open and it’s not jake who answers, it’s yizhuo. “oh hi yn! i didn’t know you and jake were hanging out today? i can leave if you guys had plans!” all you can do is smile at her and nod your head no.

that’s another thing about jake’s girlfriends. they’re just as sweet as he is and they give you no reason to hate them. in the back of your mind you figure thats why jake doesn’t like you like that. your smart mouth and sassy attitude aren’t what he looks for in girls. he wants kind, beautiful girls as girlfriends, the total opposite of you. the space you take up in his heart is only enough room to be his best friend and his best friend only.

when you get home from basically being rejected, jake sends you an “im sorry :(“ text. you simply reply back with “its fine” because you can never stay mad at him.

you hate yourself for being weak and having the biggest soft spot for jake. he could even forget your birthday and you’d still forgive him. but how could you not?

as the night is nearing to a close and you’re laying in bed, a buzzing noise jolts you awake. taking your phone from the nightstand, you feign annoyance at the caller, “did you need to call in the middle of the night? i’m about to sleep you know!”

“don’t be so dramatic,” you could practically hear how his eyes are rolling playfully now, “i’m at your window. let me in doofus.” and even though you swore up and down to yourself that today was the day you start getting over jake, you let him in your room.

both of you end up on the floor, your backs resting on the foot of your bed with no one saying a word. the tension is thick for some reason and jake wants to get rid of it as fast as he can.

“hey,” he nudges your shoulder with his, “are you mad at me because i didn’t hang out with you earlier? in my defense, we didn’t have official plans.”

and there it his. his signature pouty face he always pulls when you’re mad at him. he knows it’s your kryptonite. you absolutely can’t resist it. and so you crack.

“okay stop it with that face i’m not mad! it was my fault for showing up unannounced. i’m sorry if i interrupted you and yizhou, i didn’t think she’d be there.” your voice goes weak by the end of your sentence, the mention of his girlfriend making you nauseous.

jake slides his arm around your shoulders and he brings you into a side hug. you allow yourself to melt into him and savor this moment, deciding that getting over jake will be for another time.

the tension in the air is dissipated into a comforting silence. it’s just jake and you. you and jake. something you wish will never change.

(jake and yizhuo end up staying together for eight weeks. you think eight is too many.)

four years later and you and jake are now 18, entering the next stage of life. college. it had been four years since the day you met him in that hallway, drenched from the rain. those years ended up being filled with late movie nights, countless study dates, and getting caught sneaking out for convenience store runs together way too many times. jake consumed every aspect of your youth and you couldn't help but feel excited that the future will too.

it’s the second time the two of you start freshman year together and a pact is made to stick together. not that anything would get in the way of your friendship because nothing ever has yet, but you both feel with this new beginning you guys needed to solidify the strong friendship you share. a new school meant new hobbies, new classes, new teachers, and more importantly, new friends. you both pinky promise to stay by each other’s side no matter what college would throw at you guys.

unfortunately, promises were always meant to be broken. the first couple of months started off strong, you and jake getting drunk on saturdays and being hungover at the library on sundays catching up on school work. the newfound freedom you both had made for the ultimate college experience. you two managed to form a little friend group that quickly grew close. there was never a dull moment with everyone around and especially never a dull moment with jake. things were good until they weren’t anymore and you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where everything started falling apart.

could it have been when jake lost his virginity to that cool senior ryunjin? that couldn’t be it, he never talked to her again and even expressed he wished it was you who he lost it to. (you don’t let it get to your head though, jake was never a coherent drunk.)

could it have been when he skipped out on your weekly study sessions for the first time to try out for intramural flag football? nope, that wasn’t it at all. though you were sad to not have been with jake that sunday to recap the wild events from the previous night, you were happy he was indulging in sports since it was his favorite thing to do (after hanging out with you of course.)

could it have been when jake said he strictly sees you as a best friend to the guys when they were teasing him about you? well, maybe. you didn’t mean to eavesdrop while you were walking up to the spot in the quad your friends always lounged at but upon hearing your name, you couldn’t help it.

“dude c'mon, you mean to tell me you’ve never once kissed yn? not even accidentally?” jay questioned while laying on his back, soaking up the sun. jake shrugs while sipping on his coffee, “nah man she’s been my best friend since we were in middle school. it would be really awkward.” jay seems to not believe it but he doesn’t pry anymore. “whatever man, all i’m saying is that if i had a “best friend” as pretty as yn i would’ve wifed her up real quick.” you don’t stay long enough to listen to what the rest of the conversation entails so you don’t hear jake say he’s considered it many, many times.

you should be used to him showing disdain at the idea of anything romantic towards you. you’ve spent all these years hearing the same comment over and over so it shouldn’t affect you this much. but this time, it’s different. though there may have been times that jake blew you off, he always did something to make up for it. growing up with jake meant you got to witness the changes he went through. he no longer pulled that cute pouty face to apologize to you. instead, he would buy you your favorite coffee and write cute notes on the cup everyday for a week. he would surprise you with movie tickets to a movie he knew you were interested in at the time. he would plan “epic sleepovers” (his words not yours) and cuddle you to sleep on those nights.

he makes up for the times he isn’t there for you and for a moment, you accept his new form of apologizing. “actions speak louder than words,” is a notion you firmly believed in so this false sense of reality jake created between the two of you only makes your heart grow fonder of him. so when he said he could never see you in that way, it hurts this time.

five days of ignoring jake is what it took for him to come banging on your apartment door, beeging to talk to you. it hurt you to have to do this, but what he did to you at a party about a week ago was your final straw.

it should’ve been like any typical saturday night. the friend group attending a random frat party and getting shitfaced wasn’t anything new, in fact you guys seemed to top every weekend together and this one shouldn’t have been different. it started with an intense game of beer pong, guys vs. girls. the only catch, losers have to give the winners a kiss. you don’t miss the way jay orchestrates the teams leading you and jake to go against one another and you definitely don’t miss jake’s unreadable expression when he realizes what’s going on.

did the thought of kissing you really disgust him that much? you shrug it all off and continue to play because there was no way you were getting out of this situation with your drunk friends. they’d never let you hear the end of it calling you a “pussy” for chickening out on a simple game of beer pong. as the game goes on, you can feel your nerves growing. no matter the outcome, you were about to have your very first kiss with jake out of all people. once your final throw of the game makes it into the last cup, the crowd around you cheers.

you glance at jake with hopeful eyes but his never meet yours. before you could even take a step towards him, he interrupts you. "guys i’m not gonna kiss yn. friends don’t do that, it’s weird.” he steps away from the group and you can hear your heart shattering in your chest. taking a look around all you see are pitiful eyes directed towards you.

that night ended in you crying yourself to sleep, the realization hitting you that after everything you two have been through, jake truly didn’t feel the same as you did. the destructive thoughts plaguing your mind lead you to ignoring jake for the first time ever in your friendship with him. you couldn’t handle seeing him as he basically embarrassed you in front of all of your friends. if jake couldn’t even last one second kissing you because he lost a stupid game of beer pong, what makes you think he could ever want to be in a relationship with you?

hours have passed now and jake hasn’t stopped knocking at your door. he’s sitting on the cold, concrete floor leaving light taps while the words “yn, let me innn” leave his mouth every two minutes. the weather turned gloomy, much like your mood, and you finally decide to let jake in. you can’t have him walking back home in the rain can you?

“finally. yn please let me apologize-” “what’s there to apologize for? i’m not sure why you waited outside the door for so long when we have nothing to talk about.” jake shakes his head in disbelief. sure you can be pessimistic and hard headed at times but it was never directed towards him. he leads you to sit across from him on your tiny couch and the awkwardness settles in.

“look. i’m sorry for what i said that night. i just didn’t want to do anything you’d regret. we’ve been friends for so long and i-”

“GOD JAKE! are you an idiot?! why would i ever regret kissing you? have you been this blind the whole time?” when he doesn’t say a word you continue, “i have been in love with you this whole damn time! i love your beautiful brown eyes. your cute smile. the way you laugh at everything i do even when i make a bad joke. i love the that you remember every little thing about me and you listen to every word i have to say. i love how you have the biggest heart and you always left a space in it for me all of these years. how you make sure i’m never left out. how we can we be absolutely be doing nothing but it doesn’t matter because i’m with you.

so yes. i WANTED to kiss you. i thought that would finally be my chance but i guess not. you clearly don’t feel the same way and i appreciate you staying outside my door for so long to apologize but i’m far too embarrassed now that i’ve finally confessed so if you could just please leave so i can start getting over you.”

once you finish rambling you finally take a look at jake. you know him like the back of your hand, always being able to read his emotions but lately, you’re not so sure. you can’t seem to figure out what he’s thinking right now and you’re sure his silence is a sign you’ve been right this whole time.

“are you gonna let me speak now?” you nod your head slowly and let him talk. “i know. i’m an idiot. i’m an idiot for never realizing your feelings but an even bigger one for not realizing my own.” he makes his way towards you and takes your face in his hands, “i’m in love with you too yn. i love everything about you and then some.” his confession leaves you at a loss for words and jake takes it as a sign to finally kiss you.

when his lips touch yours everything feels right again. you’ve waited so long for this moment and it couldn’t have been more perfect. butterflies erupt in your stomach and sparks are flying everywhere. after a few shared kisses you rest your forehead against his. a smile breaks onto your face and you stare into his eyes longingly. it was just jake and you. you and jake.

“so. will you be mine yn?”

“i was already yours to begin with, doofus.” jake flashes that cute smile of his that you love and leans in to kiss you once again.

you've spent four years wondering if jake could ever return your feelings. day after day being his best friend that's hopelessly in love with him. now that you didn't have to wonder anymore, you deem that this rainy day is the best day of your life.

© fakeuwus 2023 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize

[vintagenahbi]

Finding Out You’re Pregnant

Ot7 x Reader- BTS Reactions Pt. 2

V, Jin, RM, Jungkook

Summary: How each member reacts to finding out you are pregnant.

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, feeling overwhelmed

Authors Note: I honestly did not think I would get anyone liking the first part. I feel bad if I don’t post part 2. Thanks, you all! :)

V

Taehyung had been sad for some time and hasn’t been the same. I felt so distant from him. Every night I turned over to see him staring off in the distance. He would give me a small smirk and turn over.

I miss the nights we would stay up all night talking or showing each other funny memes that only we understood, but in a moment it suddenly stopped. I tried asking him what was bothering him; however, after a while it felt like I was adding on to the stress.

Bringing me to tonight. Earlier in the day I had my regularly scheduled doctor’s appointment and I found out that I’m pregnant. I have to admit I was excited. I couldn’t wait to be a mother- it was the timing that was not good. Tae and I had been trying for a while with no luck. Now I am pregnant. Some of it felt so surreal, but dreadful at the same time.

Click. Tae trying to open the door brought me back to reality. I had a task at hand that had to be accomplished today. I couldn’t procrastinate on this. It was important to me. It was important, right?

Taehyung walked straight past me and into our bedroom. I watched his every move from the couch. I knew if I did not speak now I would not see him for the rest of the night or at least for a couple more hours.

“Tae? Can you come here?” Without saying a word he walked into the kitchen and started to shuffle through the fridge. “I’ve got some news. I think you might want to hear it.” He continued to look through the fridge until he found the last bottle of his favorite drink.

“Okay? What is it you have to tell me Y/N?” For a second I felt small. As if what I was about to say was going to lead to a downhill battle. One I might not be ready for.

“Never mind.” I took a deep sigh. Tae began to walk back into our bedroom.

“I’m pregnant.” Tae stopped in his tracks. I turned to look at him. I could see his eyes widen. My breath kept picking up as he just stood there. I was nervous. I should have waited. I should have not said anything. I should have-

“Are you serious? Are we having a baby?” I saw tears start to form in his eyes. He rushed over to me. I saw the tears stream down his cheeks. He held me in his arms tightly. “Thank you.” He kissed my forehead and pulled away from me flashing that boxy smile. I wiped his tears away and started to smile.

“You’re not mad?” Tae looked at me puzzled.

“Why would I be mad?” I continue to whip his tears away.

“You’ve been so distant and I was scared that you wouldn’t be happy. We’ve tried so long, but we hadn’t been speaking much and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry it’s been that way for you. I was under so much stress that I brought it home. I swear to you I am excited and ready for this. All I’ve wanted is to be a dad and a good husband. I can promise you, you will never feel that way again.” He hugged me once more. “I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

Jin

The cameras kept flashing. Bright yellow lights nearly blinding me. Jin changed poses with every click. I stood off to the side, watching him get into his serious mode. I enjoyed watching him get this way. Once he was done, he went back to the funniest guy I know. He walked over to me with the most loving eyes. I could almost see my reflection in his deep brown eyes.

“How do you think it went?” He looked back at all the props. This was the first time I had seen him a little worried after a shoot.

“I think you did-“ I felt the bile start to move up my throat. I covered my mouth and ran over to the trash can near the exit. I lunged my body to the ground and started to throw up. By far, this had to be the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me. Jin rushed over to me and helped me up. I wiped my mouth as the sweat beads started to form across my hairline.

“Are you okay?” I could barely stand up before I jolted back down to the ground. I could feel everyone staring at me. I didn’t care at this point because throwing up was the only thing that made me feel better. “Let’s get you home.” Jin helped me back on my feet.

Once we got home I was starting to feel better. I sat down on the couch thinking about what I could have possibly eaten to cause this. Then it hit me. I grabbed my phone off the coffee table and opened my period tracker app. 27 days late. How could I have possibly missed this. I got up and grabbed my last spare pregnancy test. Jin followed my every move almost as if he knew the routine.

“Y/N do you really think it’s possible?”

“Maybe.”

Jin and I waited in the bathroom as the timer began to countdown. The phone went off and we both looked at each other. I motioned for him to flip it over. A smirk slowly crept across his face.

“It’s positive? I’m pregnant?” Jin shook his head yes. I got up and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a kiss. We were so excited, not to mention we both wanted to be parents.

“I am going to be a dad.” Jin got so excited. “We are going to eat so much food. Any craving you have I’ll get it. I can’t wait for you to get a belly. This is amazing.”

I was about to speak when the sickness started to start up again. Jin noticed.

“Need some privacy?” He asked. I shook my head yes and closed the door behind him. “I’m gonna be a dad.” I heard him yell. Although I was sick I couldn’t help but to try to smile.

RM

I had not been back in this room for months. The yellow and light grey wallpaper, the wooden crib, and stuffed animals all in front of me. I looked at Namjoon and took a deep breath. I stepped in the room. I tried to keep my breathing under control. I kept watching Namjoon as he began to pack up the knickknacks here and there. We were so excited to have this baby until we lost it. Everything- waiting for their arrival and in a second it was gone.

After this we had stopped trying. The miscarriage hit us hard and we gave up hope honestly. Nothing was the same. It had been about a year and we were finally getting ready to face the pain.

Namjoon held up a teddy bear and smirked. I got overwhelmed with the thought of him being a dad. Him holding our baby and sharing memories we would tell them once they got older. I quietly walked out of the room. I had something to tell Namjoon, but all of this was becoming too much. I found out three months ago that I was pregnant and had been hiding it until now. I reached the three month mark and felt like it was safe, but I was scared. I knew this was our rainbow baby, however, I was still haunted with what happened last time.

I sat on our bed, waiting for Namjoon to come find me. I had to tell him regardless of how hard it was. Namjoon leaned against the doorway.

“Y/N?” I looked up at him. “I know this is a lot, but it will be good for us. We will try again. Have a fresh start.”

“It’s not that Joon. I’m pregnant and I am scared it will happen again. I can’t lose our baby again.” I didn’t even realize I had said the news to him.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Three months. I am so scared Joon.” I broke down uncontrollably. He sat next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I buried my head in his chest and let it out. He tried his best to calm me down. He sat there with me and that was enough. Once I was able to collect myself I told him everything.

“So, you are three months pregnant, but you hide it. Then why are we cleaning out the babies room. I don’t understand. We are going to use it, we can use it.”

“It’s a reminder of what could have been.”

“Y/N, it’s what is now. Yes, we could have been parents earlier, but we are going to be parents now. We have everything here so our baby will know they are loved even before we see them. It was a rough year for both of us, but we have something beautiful, we created to look forward to. I know you are scared and I am too honestly. You, me, and this baby are going to okay.”

I looked at him and knew he was right. We were going to be parents and that was the greatest gift for us.

Jung Kook

Jung Kook and I had open, honest communication in our relationship, but this time I was quiet as a mouse. I never kept secrets from him and I was starting to look suspicious. I had to be; in this case, I was pregnant with our first child and didn’t want to add to the stress while he was on his solo tour.

I knew I was being weird towards him and he was starting to notice too. The phone calls getting shorter and me never having much to say. However, all of that was about to change because he was coming home today. All of his suspicions would be laid to rest the moment he walked through those doors.

I heard the door unlock and darted towards it. I must have startled him because he jumped back surprised to see me on the other side. He squeezed past me and put his bags down.

“You gonna tell me why you were acting weird or…?” He looked back at me.

“You’re gonna be dad.” I flashed my best awkward smile and waited for his reaction.

“I knew it! I had a feeling you were. After that last time we you know, I knew there was no way you couldn’t be. Why didn’t you say anything?” He started smiling with his hands perched on his hips.

“You were on tour. I didn’t want to add to that kind of stress.”

“You come first, especially in a case like this. I’m gonna be a dad! We’ve got so much to plan.” He said excitedly.

“You aren’t upset?”

“No. I do wish you told me sooner, but I am happy. Next is you becoming my wife.” He kissed my cheek and headed towards the living room.

“Wife?” Jung Kook turned back around and smiled. I started to blush.

“Yes, my wife. I couldn’t imagine anyone else to spend my days with other than you.” I walked over to him and hugged him tightly. I started to squeal.

“I’m going to be a mom and a wife.” I couldn’t wait for our little family to begin. I could picture how great it was going to be. A new beginning for us.

[ I know it’s short :( , but I wanted to make sure I had both parts out]

[sugaryplum]

the tale of sugar cookies

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader summary: about how your procrastination got you a first date and a night spent in hogwarts’ kitchen. warnings: language mistakes, lots of cuteness, i made some hogwarts–related stuff up AND I’M SO SORRY TO ALL THE BRITISH PEOPLE. the name “cookies” just fits better. notes: first piece of the autumn(ish) collection, prompt here being baking together. i’m happy with the premise of this fic, i think it’s super cute. i’m a major procrastinator, currently supposed to be studying for the exam i have in a few days so i very much resonate. and i could really eat a sugar cookie right now yum yum

your knee is bouncing. it’s stupid, really. consequences of some of your dumb choices catching up with you. you’re desperately in need of help, but now you try to focus on theo, who’s heading towards your library table.

he says “hi, y/n.” as he sits down next to you and you chuckle faintly. “i get a whole hi? you sound particularly excited to see me.” he rolls his eyes and smiles ever–so–slightly. “don’t acknowledge it or i’ll go back to just nodding.”

you two are in something. you don’t exactly know what it is and can’t pinpoint when it started, but it’s definitely something more than just study buddies, acquaintances or even friends. you’re a people person by nature, you’ve had so many friends over the years, but this, this is different. this is butterflies and hearts all around. this is overhearing his roommates talk about you, calling you “nott’s girl”. you can’t help but blush at even the thought of it.

today however, neither the boy sitting next to you, nor the essay you’re supposed to be finishing with him are the things on your mind.

“alright, you have to stop this.” after fifteen minutes of your mindless writing, theodore’s hand lands on your knee gently. the touch makes your heart go a bit faster. “you will bounce your knee into oblivion.”

“i’m not sure if oblivion takes in bouncing knees.”

he doesn’t acknowledge your poor attempt at a joke and just looks at you. it's the kind of expression that makes you want to tell him everything immediately. so you do.

“you’re gonna think it’s ridiculous.”

“most things you say are a bit ridiculous, didn’t stop you before.”

your problem is fairly simple. you’re supposed to have one hundred sugar cookies in your dorm by halloween. that’s in two days. so far, there are no sugar cookies in your dorm and you want to drown in your sea of procrastination.

theo’s brows furrow. “one hundred?”

“it’s a hufflepuff thing. i’m sure you’ve heard of it.” you sigh, when he looks clueless. “every halloween we give first–years the opportunity to go trick or treating around all the dorms of older students. so the older students such as myself need to have treats prepared for each kid. most of the people just buy some sweets from hogsmeade but i thought it would make an excellent idea to make them myself. i got all the ingredients and stuff but never got around to do it, because the amount is overwhelming. and now halloween is so soon and i have nothing.” you’re almost breathless when you finish your rant, ready to take his scolding. what came upon you when you decided to do this? you had a whole month to go to honeydukes and buy some candies instead.

he’s quiet for a couple of seconds, looking at you the way he always does. a hint of excitement appears in his eyes, as if he got an idea. “i could help you.”

“what?”

“you heard me. tonight you need to finish this essay.” he looks down at your parchment with only the first few sentences and random doodles all around them. “but tomorrow we can do this. bring the ingredients and we’ll meet up in the kitchen. i end practice six thirty, we could start at seven.”

���you think we can make one hundred in one go?”

“nothing i can’t do.”

“that’s not true. but i’ll go with it this time.” you smile. it means a lot to you. not even the act itself, but the fact that he, of all people offered to help you. theo isn’t exactly a person who expresses his feelings easily, he’s not like you. and he definitely is not a person you could imagine in the kitchen, baking cookies for first–years. you thank him and hope he doesn’t notice the red on your cheeks. as expected, he doesn’t answer with anything but his eyes. you go back to the homework, calmer and happier.

time passes and you start feeling sleepy. you tell theo you’re going and you pack up your bag. when you stand up to leave, you hear his voice again.

“so tomorrow? kitchen? seven?”

you smile.

“it’s a date.”

you’re meant to turn around, but once you realize what you said, you freeze and your expression changes. your eyes stare at him for an excruciatingly long second, petrified. but all he does is shrug his shoulders slightly.

“yeah.” not even looking at you. he reacts as if you sky is blue. you can’t help a smile forming on your lips that only turns more beaming when you turn around and he can’t see your face. it’s a date. damn.

being a hufflepuff has it’s perks. one of them is constant access to the kitchen, accessible through the back of the common room. there were so many times throughout the years when you skipped the normal hogwarts’ dinner to cook something homely. or countless moments stumbling there in the middle of the night to make hot chocolate. you thanked helga everytime when you, or your friends got to taste the goodness you prepared.

today you’re also thankful. it’s almost seven in the evening and you’re giggling, seeing as theo is struggling to put on an apron.

“here, i’ll help you.” you tie it and step back, looking proud of your work. “you look like a professional.”

“i am a professional.”

“have you ever actually baked anything?”

“...no. but isn’t it just a couple of–” he moves his wind a few times to demonstrate what he means and you chuckle. he has no idea what he signed up for. “this will be fun.”

you put your arms on the table. “we’re doing this without magic. it’s better like that. tastier.”

he’s not talking for a couple of seconds, opening his mouth as if he’s about to say something. “you’re joking. it’s one hundred cookies. how is a normal, sane person supposed to bake it all in one night, muggle style?”

“that’s exactly what i need your help for.”

“this is a trick, you’re tricking me.”

“not a trick, just my undying charm that caused you to worry about me so much, that you offered me help and now we’re gonna spend the evening baking cookies. you might actually learn something from it, it’ll be good for you.”

“cruel woman.” he shakes his head, but comes up to you anyway, getting a pinch of sugar into his mouth. you give him a scolding look and take away the sugar bowl.

“i’m gonna show you how to make the dough. it’s simple and we need a lot of it, for six whole batches.” his eyes follow you around the kitchen, when you take out ingredients from the shelves. “we need to mix everything together. first, butter and sugar. then flour.” you start mixing things in a big bowl with a spatula, stealing a few glances at the boy in front of you. he’s smiling.

four batches of cookies later, fifth one in the oven, theo really gets into it. at first he seemed skeptical, but now you can see the care in his eyes, when he adds the flour to the bowl, making sure he doesn’t spill anything.

“look at you! doing so well, you might end up as a cookie maker after a–” before you get to finish the sentence, he gets some flour in his hand and throws it all on your face.” when you open your eyes, you see a small grin on his face. “you look like a ghost.”

you talke a big breath and exhale slowly. then you steal the flour from behind his body, ready to fight back. “you are not getting away with this!”

a sweet war starts between you two. each of you fire your shots. all you can do is laugh, there’s powdered sugar on your nose, cheeks and lips. you feel like a small child, so carefree and innocent.

laughter distracts you from the situation you’re in. theo is holding you by the wrists, preventing your hands, armed with a spatula of dough, from rubbing the mass into his face. your eyes open to meet his and in one moment you both turn quiet. you might be delusional, but this seems like perfect time for a kiss.

his lips crash into yours so suddenly, that you barely get the chance to register that it’s actually happening. when he backs away after a second, you pull him in once again, this time him much more confidently.

„you taste like sugar.” you whisper against his lips.

„i wonder why.” he whispers back and kisses you again, and again.

you like the softness on his cheeks when you touch them, and way his hands wrap around your waist. you stay like this for a moment, closer than ever before, until you’re brought back to reality by the oven alarm. sugar cookies. you pat his shoulder and run to get the baking tray.

when you turn back to him, he’s still leaning his lower back on the table, looking at you, smirking. you pretend like you’re not extremely flustered and point to the bowl he never finished mixing. „work, theo! this dough won’t mix itself!”

he quickly grabs the spatula again, saluting to her with it. „yes, chef!”

you giggle. „i don’t think it works like that in cookie shops.”

„yes, chef.” he murmurs quietly, glancing again, as if to see how you react.

you roll your eyes, smile and look away, feeling your cheeks getting hot. your face hurts from all the smiling, but with the smell of sugar cookies and theodore’s eyes on your back, it doesn’t seem like you’re going to stop any time soon.

[yo1gi]

summary: you meet isagi at a coffee shop because of a strawberry parfait

warnings: isagi is rather popular in this scenario, flirty isagi at the end? not proofread

strawberry sunday

you were bored out of your mind while trying to finish some of your homework before school tomorrow at a coffee shop nearby your house.

you had been procrastinating about doing homework during the weekends which ended in everything pilling together. you hoped that the change in location will lighten the glum mood of doing homework. (it didn’t)

you were desperately trying to forget that you had even more worksheets and question papers stacked in front of you ; right beside them was a cup of peach ice tea that arrived not too long ago and it was the only thing keeping you going at the moment.

you mentally groaned, wishing you can just relax now with no worries about your lame homework. you were literally daydreaming at this point - mind so caught up in your own world.

“oh, didn’t expect to see you here!" a bright voice that sounded a bit too familiar disturbed your train of thought.

you glanced at the source of the sound, only to see the one and only isagi - your school’s sweetheart.

puzzled was all you felt during that time. you weren’t exactly the closest to him but you had a fair share of greetings with each other, he was the nice popular boy in school after all. plus, he played football which made him gain lots of fangirls as well, though you also couldn’t quite deny that he was an attractive boy.

“hi?” was all you could say to the blue-eyed boy. you were extremely confused. were both of you friends? could you guys even be labelled as friends with the minimal interaction you guys have?

“mind if i sit here?”

you gaped at him in silence, never in your life expecting his question. you could kinda tell he was oblivious to the awkward conversation he had just continued when he was still grinning joyfully, flexing you with his signature cute boy smile. ngl it charmed you

“uh, sure.”

you were of course, reluctant but you didn’t have the heart to reject the smiley boy in front of you.

“i rarely see you around, what brings you here today?”

you were glad that he was the one that strike the conversation because you obviously weren’t going to.

“just wanted a change in location, what about you?”

“i heard from a couple of friends that the strawberry parfait here was good, so i came to see what’s the hype all about!”

you chuckled lightly, slightly surprised about the sudden enthusiasm from isagi.

“sorry, i got overexcited! i just really like strawberry desserts.” he quickly shared as his hands scratched the nape of his neck.

you didn’t know the isagi yoichi had such an awkward side to him. he was usually a lot more carefree and outgoing in school. you were weirdly attracted to his cute demeanour.

“it’s okay, i like them too.” you continued as you tried to reassure the embarrassed boy which to your attempt, did. his big blue eyes brightened after hearing what you said. you can’t help but stare into them; they were very pretty.

“really? we could share the parfait, i don’t mind!”

your eyes slightly widened as you were caught off guard by his straight forward question. it’s not everyday that you have a cute boy sharing his beloved strawberry parfait with you.

“oh no, you should enjoy it, you really wanted to try it, didn’t you?”

“i did but i don’t mind sharing because it’s you.” he said nonchalantly.

you froze. you had to do a double take on what he said. it was quite a lot to take in for your racing heart.

as you were about to ask him about it, you were unfortunately cut off by a voice.

“hi, here’s your strawberry parfait, please enjoy!”

at this point, you weren’t even listening, your mind was still stuck at that moment.

there was an inner turmoil present in your mind. would it be weird if i ask him about it now? you thought hard for an answer.

your answer: whatever, i’ll just ask him. i’m way too curious to stop now.

“hey isagi..” you escape your train of thoughts, only to see him staring at you - the parfait untouched.

“hm?”

you were taken aback with his stare that you have completely forgotten your purpose of calling him and it ended with you all over the place.

“why is it suddenly so hot in here?” you chuckled nervously while your hands reached for your ice tea, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of you at the same time.

“is it? i think it’s fine though,” you’re not even sure if he did it on purpose or is just awfully oblivious, “have some dessert to cool you down!”

he scooped up a good amount of it on the spoon and moved it towards my mouth. he isn’t going to feed me, is he?

he certainly is.

you froze pt 2. you definitely didn’t expect this from him.

“come onn, my hands getting tired.” he complained with a small pout on his lips. how is he so cute?!

you reluctantly ate it from the spoon, though you were extremely flustered at the sweet gesture. you were about to explode.

“how was it?” he asked sweetly before feeding himself the long awaited goodness.

the gears in your brain were turning. wait. hold on.

it was the same spoon.

your cheeks flushed red at the thought of the indirect kiss you just had. you were slowly starting to believe that he’s doing this on purpose.

“it’s really good!” isagi exclaimed, “i really like it, do you like it?

you mustered up all the energy you had left with a small yes.

“it’s really sweet though..”

“yeah, kind of.”

“like you.”

that was all your weak heart could take. let’s just say you got scolded by your teacher for unfinished homework because your brain was too busy with having that certain scenario playing on repeat.

[shrekgogurt]

Well folks. I’m on my substitute teaching grind again this week! Scheduled each day up in hopes of getting some good writing done. I did on Monday! And then proceeded to finally start reading @ninemagicks Game/Set/Match yesterday and did that every bell so uhhhhhh. Today………..well ummmmm…..yeah today I worked on chapter graphics because I’m in big procrastination mode. I want to keep riding this wave of engagement (that sounds corporate gross) but I’m also very much in my head about delivering. I should probably channel this energy into writing the chapter since such pressure is Baz’s literal arc but uhhhhhhhh why do that when I could Simon avoid. I love being mentally well!

One might say I need to find my own bravado. (more under the cut)

lol the chapter title for 13 is bravado by lorde

ok anyway

“Work In Progress Wednesday” right? That means I can talk about the progress of every part of the process? Huh? Yeah? Are you gonna stop me? TRY! TRY TO STOP ME!

Aggression aside, let’s get into it.

As previously stated on Sunday, we find ourselves at intermission. But that’s just the theatrical way of slicing up the story. The fun thing about 24 chapters (I got rid of my originally planned intermission chapter because I didn’t want to write it anymore) is that math really loves the number 24. It’s scrumptious. Yummily divisible. Ergo, IKABIKAM also has/is/will be deliciously divided. Afterall, I do keep saying I’m cooking on it.

Now, to put @alexalexinii on blast (sorry for perceiving you), they wrote in the tags of a Chapter 12 reblog: #made me realise that this fic had proper arcs? And I grinned. I cackled. I rubbed my grubby little hands together at the top of my tower as I’ve been doing this whole time because oh ARCS???????? YOU WANT ARCS???????????? I’VE GOT ARCS LYING IN WAIT LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. (I love overselling myself.)

Allow me to let you in on some of the building blocks thus far.

Chapters 1, 2, 3: a complicated reunion which is shaky but ultimately sets up

Chapters 4, 5, 6: developing the friendship which is a crucial foundation for

Chapters 7, 8, 9: the gay (Baz’s increasingly more external “hi i’m gay”, Simon’s internal “oh wait me too”) which then explodes into

Chapters 10, 11, 12: all that political parent stuff that’s been hinted at in passing which is BIG relevant and incredibly intertwined in this tangled up mess that leads into the work of….

You get it. They’re mini trilogies. Don’t ask me about dividing the chapters into groups of four because I didn’t have that in mind while writing. I like threes better. Always have. Absolute banger of a prime number.

If you for some reason want to read more about the structure, I write a little more about it in this wipsday from when I was procrastinating 9.

Now, @cutestkilla keeps telling me I’m at the downward slope now but honestly delivering on what I’ve set up scares the shit out of me WAY more than the grunt work. I’m uhhhhh yeah. This is why I’m chronically unable to finish projects but by GOD I will finish this one. I swear by it.

So here are three sentences. You get to guess from who and when.

Loving him comes as naturally as breathing. It’s intuitive when I’m not thinking. Or rather, when I’m not panicking.

If you want to follow along with all the songs I’m hyperfixating on as inspiration I’ve been sharing them over on the “shrogurt” instagram. There’s nothing I love more than talking way too much about this damn fic. Thanks for reading!

And thank you for the tags today: @nausikaaa @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @artsyunderstudy @prettygoododds @emeryhall

Now tagging: @brilla-brilla-estrellita @captain-aralias @dani-vc @ebbpettier @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @hagnoart @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @messofthejess @moodandmist @mooncello @nightimedreamersworld @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @valeffelees @whogaveyoupermission @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[everlasting-elegy]

Swapped! AU (Luke, Simeon, Solomon)

It's the long awaited finale, lads! The final characters for the Swapped AU. Thanks for all the support and love for the headcanons, I didn't expect everyone to enjoy it so much!! I hope you guys enjoy this post as well~

What would the characters in Obey Me be like in a world where they are players of the game and you’re their favourite character? Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2.8k

Luke

Luke tells everyone he downloaded Obey Me out of sheer curiosity. No, he did not download it to try and bond with the brothers, stop saying that. He just thought it looked nice, he swears on it-

With the bright colours and cool aesthetics, Luke quickly got deeper into the rabbit hole of Obey Me. You became his favourite character in a heartbeat. Even if you don't look tough, you definitely seem like that and super cool at least to him. He wants to be just like you!

As such, he spent a couple of weeks trying to emulate you. Wearing your style of clothes and trying to talk like you. He wanted everyone to think he was cool and he thought you were the prime example of it

Luke has cried from the main plot multiple times. Although the story is often funny and not much is shown explicitly on screen, the thought of curses and monsters sometimes gives him nightmares if he plays the game too late in the night. Those times he has to go to Simeon’s room for comfort

Wants to give you all the hugs! He may not be the tallest person around but whenever something bad happens to you in game he wants to swoop in and protect you. He hates seeing your sad face

Unfortunately, you’ve made Luke become a master procrastinator. If unattended, he will be grinding the game instead of doing whatever homework assigned to him. It got so bad that Simeon or Solomon always have to be present as he studies

His favourite card of yours has a pastel, tea party aesthetic. Pastries laid on a table, large plushies and side characters accompanying you, wearing light coloured formal gear. You’re inviting the camera to take a seat beside you and he really wants to join!

Luke also loves scrolling through fan art with a similar aesthetic. He just loves seeing you smiling, laughing and having a great time with other characters, away from the actual darkness of the main plot

Has cooked your favourite food and baked various cookies with themes to you. As much as he loves sharing his cooking at times he can get a little possessive with the foods he’s made for you, wanting to keep it all to himself

Luke is a responsible spender and he has Simeon supervising him, so anything he buys related to you is few and far between but very meaningful to him. He likes the pastel themed merchandise of you, including a set of baking utensils in your favourite colour

“I’m so sorry to hear you had a bad day, Luke,” Simeon offered a sympathetic smile as he kept the front door open for Luke to stomp in petulantly. “I can organise Solomon to come over and we can spend the night watching movies to take your mind off of things. How’s that?”

Luke took a moment to think before nodding slowly. “Okay. But I want some time alone in my room. And don’t come in!”

Simeon blinked in surprise as Luke hurried off to his room. Simeon was always one to respect the wishes of his loved ones, but Luke’s outburst piqued his interest. Just because he couldn’t come in doesn’t mean he could try and hear what’s happening from the outside…

After packing items away and suitably Solomon-proofing the kitchen for his arrival later today, Simeon tiptoed his way to Luke’s room to try and overhear what was happening. Through the door, the muffled tune of Obey Me’s home screen was playing.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you’re back. Did you have a good day?”

“I didn’t (Y/N), it was such a bad day! The first bad thing was with Mammon calling me a chihuahua. First of all, I’m not a chihuahua-”

Simeon stifled a giggle as the boy ranted on about his day, his screen supposedly listening in. He knew Luke had grown attached to the pixels on the screen that made up the character (Y/N) but he didn’t realise just how much solace Luke found in them.

Eventually there were a few sound effects from tapping on the screen.

“You know, sometimes I don’t understand my friends.”

“Me too! I mean, wait- I don’t think they’re my friends, they’re just my classmates. But they’re kind of cool… in their own way. I want to be like them. And I want them to stop calling me a chihuahua.”

A few more taps yet again.

“Don’t worry, if anything’s troubling you, I’ll take care of it. I’ve got your back, always.”

“You’re the best, (Y/N)! Thanks for listening to my rant… Solomon’s going to be coming over today. I wish you could join us too…”

Before Luke could get more moody, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. The boy audibly yelped before hurriedly turning off his phone as Simeon opened the door.

“Did you have a nice conversation with your friend?” Simeon asked teasingly.

“H-huh?! How much did you hear?”

“Oh, not much. Only all of it.”

“Simeon!” Luke whined as he grabbed his pillow, wrapping his arms around it and stuffing his face into the fabric to hide his growing blush.

Simeon

Downloaded the game when Lucifer was complaining about his brothers’ growing addiction to it. What better way than to understand how they feel than by downloading the game himself? Is what he tells himself but he can’t help but be a little cheeky to Lucifer

Even if you weren’t a character in the game, Simeon likely would keep playing because it was just such an interesting premise. He’s initially oblivious about how he appreciates you more than just an integral character to the plot, but once it hits it hits hard

Once he realises just how much he loves you, any line you say that offers even the slightest flirty tone has Simeon turning the phone screen away from him as he tries to hide his flustered face

Thought you were a real person at first due to the text feature, or there was at least someone real portraying you. Of course him only having set responses was weird but he didn’t know any better. When he realised you were just lines of code, his disappointment was immeasurable and his day was ruined

He fails your surprise guest event, repeatedly. No matter how many times you pay him a visit he still fails the event more than he succeeds and it breaks his heart. Solomon took pity and bought a whole bunch of your favourite items on Simeon’s account (even then Simeon’s success rate is depressingly low)

Simeon is enthralled with all your cards that portray you as suspicious and morally grey. With bright lighting in some areas casting dark, contrasting shadows over your face, wearing a knowing smirk as you look to the camera, finger pressed to your lips to make Simeon swear his silence

Likely has discussions with Satan, theory crafting and dissecting your character further. The two together are an unstoppable force when it comes to understanding you and Simeon will gladly contact the developers to help aid the plot under his pen name

Regardless, Simeon contributes to the fandom with fanfiction. He’s made a few AUs and just loves writing intense pieces of fiction about you and tensions with other characters. Still, he can’t help but be a little self-indulgent and write some self inserts and xReader fics

Simeon isn’t really one for official merchandise, but he has bought some fan creations that feel more personalised. In particular a fountain pen designed to your theme, that’s only kept on display remains unused

“Oh, good day Solomon,” Simeon chirped, wearing his gentle smile. “I was wondering if you were going to drop by, Luke’s been missing you.”

“Sorry, I’ve been caught up in learning a new spell,” Solomon responded in kind with a smile of his own. In the living room, he took a seat by a coffee table, opposite Simeon. The two were engulfed in silence for a few moments as Simeon waited for his guest to start a conversation, but Solomon couldn’t bring himself to speak. His instincts were caught up in something else. The uncanny feeling of being watched that sent electricity down his spine. Simeon may be in front of him, but there was another presence here… he turned his head to survey the area.

Solomon stared in disbelief as his eyes settled on the hunched over figure in the corner of the room.

“Don’t mind him,” Simeon waved his hand dismissively, smile widening as he tried to hide his embarrassment. “He’s been like that for an hour now. I think he’s trying to get the confidence to walk closer but when I approach him he scuttles away.”

“First… you tell me you’re Christopher Peugot… the author behind The Seven Lords,” Leviathan started, voice distant as he rambled. In fetal position in the dark corner of the living room, he rocked back and forth with his head in his hands. “And now you’re telling me you’re Ultimate(Y/N)Theoriser on Devilblr?! Creator of all the best angst fanfics with the cast and the fluffiest one shots with (Y/N) and who wrote the legendary slow burn series in a royalty AU where the reader is in an arranged marriage with emperor (Y/N)?!”

“I must admit, that second pen name sounds far less admirable but it gets the job done,” Simeon chuckled awkwardly, only making Levi scream into his hands. Solomon watched in amusement as Levi started to rush forward.

“Your autograph! NOW!!”

Levi almost tackled Simeon save for him narrowly dodging with a laugh.

“Of course, let me get some paper-”

“No wait, I’ve got a (Y/N) poster, let me get it from the home!”

Levi dashed out of the room and Solomon turned to Simeon with raised eyebrows.

“Ultimate(Y/N)Theoriser?” Solomon mused, smirk widening as Simeon rubbed the back of his head, looking away as heat climbed to his face. “My, you live many double lives, don’t you Simeon?”

“Don’t mention it, I forgot to turn my device off when Leviathan came here and he saw one of my drafts,” Simeon sighed. “I hope he keeps it a secret.”

“He’ll try, that’s the most I can guarantee.”

Solomon started to laugh but stopped when the door creaked open again. The motion was slow and hesitant as a blue tuft of hair timidly peeked through the crack.

“Uh… I haven’t gotten the poster yet… but Simeon… are you down for commissions? I have some (Y/N) fic ideas…”

“For you, my friend? You don’t have to pay me.”

Levi burst into tears of joy.

Solomon

Solomon is a busy man but he likely stumbled across the game on his own due to his natural curiosity and loneliness unless he overheard Asmo going on and on about how fun and pretty the game was and how he simply must download it

His emotions with you felt like a true slow burn. Of course his eyes couldn’t help gravitating towards you when you appeared on screen but it took a good chunk of the main plot until he realised he was genuinely down bad for you. Now no matter how much you’re in the game he’s starving for (Y/N) content

It’s his favourite pastime when he wants to do something mindless instead of studying and if everyone else is busy with their own things. Much like when he’s chasing his other passions, he can completely lose track of time and spend hours progressing through the story and grinding until someone knocks on his door

Your biggest fan, he’s always rooting for you. He loves how you navigate each complication and how you interact with other characters. He’d love to be able to join in with some of the antics

He likes to cook your favourite dish on the regular when he has the time. He tries to encourage others to try it so he can spread appreciation for your character but no one accepts… oh well, that simply means more for him!

His favourite card of you is one where you’re portrayed as a magician of your own. Adorned in a typical sorcerer’s garb, you stand in a darkened room lit up by your various spells as you smile in wonder and awe. Oh, how he’d love to join you and waste the night away lighting up the sky with magic

He tends to keep to himself but he’s a little more open on social media. Under a pseudonym he will go off about how you’re an amazing character and his brainrot. On days where he’s bored and feeling mischievous he may go around and spam content of you throughout the fandom

Might have bought a figure or two of you but overall isn’t big on the whole merch concept. He prefers to make his own little trinkets in dedication to you but if his friends ever gift him anything he’s not complaining

Similarly he doesn’t spend too much money on the game. He feels there are other ways he can appreciate you and get his daily (Y/N) fix. That being said, he’s got some spare change that he’ll glady throw at the game to get his favourite cards or exclusive outfits for you

Solomon is oddly soothed by the "permanence" of your character. Even if something bad happens to you in the main plot, or even in the worst case scenario if you die to further the story, you'll still be there to always greet him on the home screen

Notebooks were strewn across the desk. Messy scrawls barely visible over the dim candlelight. In the centre of it all sat Solomon, eyes flickering between each book as he contemplated in silence. He was so close but so far. It was passable but that wasn’t enough for him. Somewhere in his hastily written notes should be the answer, just a little tweak to make it perfect.

He jolted at the sound of a knock on the door.

“Yes?”

“Dinner’s ready, you should really get something to eat,” Simeon called from the other side. “May I enter?”

“Of course.”

Hearing the door creak open, Solomon returned to his musings, finger to chin as he tapped absentmindedly.

“My, a new spell? You’ve been at it for hours,” Simeon stated as he tiptoed towards the sorcerer, trying to make sense of the seemingly nonsensical ramblings on the paper.

“Days, actually,” Solomon muttered.

“Care to tell me what it’s meant to do? Perhaps another perspective could help-”

Solomon clicked his fingers, a simple ‘ah’ escaping his lips as he scrambled to one of his notebooks. Pen manifested in hand, he crossed out a small part of the script, hurriedly correcting himself as he rewrote the passage. Simeon watched with bated breath as Solomon leaned back, double, triple checking the writing before he turned to Simeon with a cheeky smile.

“Would you like to see the magic in action?”

Simeon swept his arms wide, inviting Solomon to take the stage. The sorcerer straightened his posture, gaze on the book as he started to chant a passage never heard before. This spell was an original, created only by Solomon for his own enjoyment.

As the incantation continued, a low light started to emanate from his hands. The light started to spread, growing at an exponential speed and brightness until it became a blinding white. Simeon stifled a grunt as he screwed his eyes shut, hiding his face behind an arm as the light became too overwhelming. This magic, it was sophisticated, it was strong. He shouldn’t have expected any less from the strongest sorcerer of all time.

He could sense the light dying down. Eventually, Simeon pulled his arm away but his eyes remained closed.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Simeon needed to take a moment. Just what could be the result of such powerful magic? Even opening his eyes seemed to take too long, the anticipation was killing him. He furiously willed his eyes to adjust to the darkness quicker.

In Solomon’s hands…

… was a (Y/N) figurine.

Simeon smiled politely, but his chuckle was confused. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“This is a perfect replication of the exclusive (Y/N) figurine that was on sale last week but already sold out. In all honesty it was far too expensive for me to buy, so I figured it would be a lot cheaper if I just created a spell for me to get my hands on it. In fact, I might try to do this with future forms of merchandise. It’s good practice for spells and- Simeon, what’s with that look of disappointment?”

Swapped AU General Headcanons: (Leviathan, Mammon) (Beelzebub, Lucifer, Satan) (Asmodeus, Belphegor) (Barbatos, Diavolo)

Obey Me! Masterlist

[bowtiepastabitch]

Hi, have you ever read a post-s2 fix-it fic and thought to yourself, 'hmmm, I wish this would make me cry instead'?

Then you might(?) enjoy the incredibly angsty fic I'm writing! I actually cried a bit writing the chapter I published today; it was incredibly cathartic.

---

“Crowley I-”

He breaks into a sob before he can finish his sentence, and then lurches forward. Their lips meet with crushing force, and Aziraphale’s hand reaches up to steady himself against Crowley’s shoulder. The touch is gentle but heavy and every inch of Crowley’s being is lit up, fuzzy and too warm to be natural. Aziraphale’s lips are just as soft as he remembers, and they press searchingly, desperately against his. For a singular, gloriously painful moment, the air crackles with electricity and unspoken words, and then it’s over.

Aziraphale jerks back as if struck, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t-”

Crowley reaches out a hand, to cup his face or to pull him closer again he isn’t sure, but Aziraphale catches him by the wrist. Crowley had forgotten how strong he is.

“Don’t.” The ragged whisper hangs in the air like a heavy fog.

“Angel-”

“Just… don’t.”

---

I've been procrastinating actually promoting my own work since I started this piece because I hate doing so, but here we are. Enjoy, I guess? (and if you don't enjoy it, please don't tell me so, I will cry)

[daebraeksan]

Sakusa comforts you when you think you’re annoying 

Genre: comfort, domestic, established relationship 

Contents: social anxiety, self deprecating, snack mention (Sakusa is a snack. jk but seriously but also food mentioned in the second paragraph)

Wc: 1312

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

You and Sakusa return home from a social engagement, which you felt like didn’t go well for you. You still feel raw and inflamed even, sore from the rejection that you imagined receiving from them. Who’s to say it wasn’t real? You don't know. You can’t tell. You assume rejection has already happened or is imminently happening from everyone. Why wouldn't you?

You look at the floor dully and ignore Sakusa’s proffered leftovers box with some sweets and snacks from the event. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

You’re not okay, of course. But it’s not that easy to say that. And you’re still learning how to accept help. You’re still learning how someone asking if you need help isn’t them saying that you are weak. You’re still learning that “hey are you okay?” is not an accusation.

But because you are still learning all of this, it’s not that easy for you to answer directly or honestly. So instead, you ask, unhelpfully, “What do you mean?”

“I just was wondering if everything was okay,” he repeats, because what else is he supposed to do? You asked a stupid question. Of course! As always. 

You swallow air in your dry throat as you stare up at him. 

“If everything is okay, that’s great. And I love you, and I'm here to talk if you want to talk about anything.”

Of course you want to talk about stuff. You wonder where you should start. You stare at his hand (you want to hold it.)

You look  up at him and you nod. 

“You do want to talk?” he checks.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.” He turns to completely face you. He is always turning to completely face you. He is always there for you and you are so grateful. Your heart cries (happily.)

“Do you want to sit?” he asks. 

You nod again. You go to sit on the couch and he goes into the kitchen. He brings you both glasses of water and sits down beside you, his hair rustling, and his arm thrown around you.

“Is this okay?” he asks. 

You nod. 

“Good,” he says. “What’s up?”

You wish for a moment, that you both could change into comfy at home clothes before this conversation. He looks delectable in his going out wear, of course, but you want to snuggle into one of his soft sleep shirts.

You take a deep breath. Actually, that would be a great way to procrastinate on this conversation, right? 

Well. Maybe later. 

“Does everyone hate me?”

He blinks. Even though he probably should have known you would be like this, he is still surprised. He still forgets that you can't see yourself the way he sees you—he would never ever imagine that you would even wonder this kind of stuff about yourself. “No, why would you say that?”

“I just feel so stupid and dumb.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, and I don’t want to invalidate your emotions, but you’re not.”

You huff. “Right. My feelings aren’t facts, but they are valid.”

“Right,” he says.

You look at him, displeased. 

“It’s both,” he adds.

“That’s so confusing.”

He nods. “It doesn’t make sense. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You look at him, hoping the hurt isn’t watering in your eyes too much. But you are really transparent, and he knows you, so you’re sure he can see everything. You can’t even figure out a not annoying way to broach the topic. You wish you could leave it at that, but there’s still more to go. “Am I annoying and awful?”

See? The most annoying way possible.

“No,” he says immediately.

You stare at him.

He arches his eyebrow at you speculatively, judgingly, but he also puts his hand on top of yours comfortingly. 

Your heart pangs. 

“Why do you want me to say yes?” he asks, seriously.  

“Do you think I was annoying today?” you ask, voice tinny.

“No.”

“To everyone else, though?”

He squeezes your hand. “They didn't say anything to me.  I don’t think they think that about you.”

You sigh. You were invited to the gathering. They wouldn't invite you if they didn’t like you. You hope you will continue to be invited. You wonder when you will feel like you aren’t on the precipice of being abandoned. Maybe never! That’s not a comforting thought, though. 

“Do you think I’m annoying?”

“No. I love you. That's why I'm here.” 

“But there are some things I do that are annoying?”

He looks displeased that you are trying to lead him to an answer, but he goes along with it anyway. “I guess. But I don't really think about it in that way. Do you think I'm annoying?”

This is a completely logical and reasonable flip to occur in the conversation, but you are still caught off guard. You are truly 😐🧍. “I mean. I don’t know.”

He can barely contain his smirk and it does make you mad a little bit, that he always seems to have the upper hand. You still love him. But it’s unfair. 

“So you do think I'm annoying?” he asks. 

“There are some things we do differently,” you say, pretending that you can be coy and outmaneuver him. You can’t.

“Right. And everyone does things differently. Like literally every person.”

“Right.”

“So all humans are annoying to everyone.”

“Maybe sometimes.”

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You really don’t know what you did to deserve this. A very calm and logical breakdown of why it doesn’t matter that you are annoying. Or whether you are or not is just a completely irrelevant question because you are surrounded by people who love you, so who cares?

You hate this. Why can’t everyone just hate you because that makes sense in your head? Instead they love you and forgive you and hang around even though you did nothing to deserve it. It’s not adding up. 

Other people’s actions are not adding up. It would make you feel better if things made sense in your heart, and head. If you could trust what you were seeing with your eyes with what your internal beliefs are. 

But maybe your internal beliefs have to change to match reality. Because you can’t keep living like this, doing this bad math. It’s not fun. It’s annoying. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s okay.” 

“Is it okay to not like someone 100% of the time?” 

That’s where it’s getting you. It is scary. Which percent is going to be the percent where you get abandoned? You can’t be sure. You look at him. You know the “right” answer but you don’t believe it.

“100% seems like perfection,” he says. “Which is…” he looks at you meaningfully.

“Unrealistic?” you ask. 

“Yeah.”

You sigh. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” he says back. 

You stare at him.

He pokes you in the belly.

“What?” you say. “How dare you?”  you ask but he’s already poking you in the shoulder. 

“Okay,” you say. “You’ve made your point.”

“I’m always right,” he says. 

“You’re not even right about that, and we’re going to leave it there,” you say, jumping to your feet.

Or you would, except he completely intercepted you, and brought you back down to the couch, onto his lap. He pressed kisses to your cheek and neck, and you squirm halfheartedly, but you’re not actually trying to get away.

“I don’t think you’re annoying,” he repeated. 

“Thank you.”

“I think you’re great, and I love you, and I love spending time with you.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

You sigh. Maybe it’s not the end of the world to be annoying. People really don’t like annoying people, though. But different people think different things are annoying. Anyone can be annoying to anyone. That’s compatibility.

You’re fine. Everything is fine. After a great little anxiety burst, everything ended up fine, as per normal. What else is new?

[loovsoobs]

Library Confessions / 최수빈

꒰⚘݄꒱ “Was it a moment of weakness or courage? You couldn't tell”

genre: fluff setting: best friends!; soobin x gn. reader!; university au! word count: 704

Synopsis: You and Soobin are “studying” at the library. You’ve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember, and can’t help, but be distracted by his presence. Which Soobin notices as well. 

a/n. hi! This is my first fanfic that i’m publishing on tumblr. I haven’t written anything in a very long time, so take this as a warm up c: The text was not proof read, sorry lol. But I hope you enjoy <3

You look up from your book yet again to find Soobin laying on the table with his arms serving as his pillow. His eyes were just scanning the room, and his hands were playing with the strings of his hoodie. You wondered why he insisted on tagging along when he fully knew you needed to study, and wouldn't entertain him. He wasn't the type to always need a conversation, but to sit in the library for hours with you, without doing much had to be so boring. He did bring his own books, which did surprise you. Usually you study alone, since Soobin isn't the most studious type. He usually either refuses to come with you, or sits around procrastinating as much as he can, which was the case today. You had to admit though, the sight of him was adorable. Bored out of his mind, with his own homework spread out in front of him, but left lonely with disinterest. You chucked, which brought Soobin's attention to you. He pouted "What's so funny, y/n?"You just shook your head, still smiling. "Nothing". He shifted his position, now resting his cheek on his hand. You couldn't help but notice that he was closer to you than before. It made your stomach drop a little. You couldn't deny your crush on him any longer. You were infatuated with him. Even though you came here to study, you couldn't remember a single sentence of the book you were reading. All you remember was stealing occasional glances at Soobin. How his hair falls on his forehead, and how he scrunches his nose when it tickles him. How he puffs his cheeks when he's particularly bored in the moment. All those gestures, all his details are almost engraved into your brain. Now sitting across from each other, closer than before, you can't help but feel nervous. You've been best friends since high school, and yet every time you're in his proximity you can't help but feel nervous. "Are you making fun of me" He said, and it felt like the time resumed again. You didn't even realize the trans you were in made it seem like time stopped. "I would never do that" You said sarcastically. One thing about your friendship, is that bickering was guaranteed. Another thing was this indescribable tension you felt around him, and tried to play it cool by making fun of him. Maybe your love language was deflection. Who knows. "Oh yeah? Just like you'd never actually focus on what you said you'd be doing. This is the 5th time I caught you doing anything else, but reading this book you supposedly needed to read for tomorrow" He said in a sarcastic tone, and you could instantly feel your stomach drop and your cheeks heat up. So he noticed you looking at him. Why didn't he say anything earlier? Was it weird? A thousand thoughts raced through your head in that exact second. "What are you thinking so hard about?" Soobin said, after a moment of silence, as if to break the tension. And for a brief moment you considered telling him the truth about how you felt. You looked around, and although your university's library wasn't the most romantic place to confess your long held crush, you couldn't help, but notice it's charm and how much time you've spent starting at Soobin instead of your homework here. It happened every time he joined you. "y/n?" He looked at you from a lower angle, pouting. "hm?" you hummed,  pretending as if you didn’t hear what he just said. "what are you thinking about?” His tone was now intrigued. He was starting directly at you, and was even closer than before, leaning in over the wooden table. When did he move? Your heartbeat sped up and you didn’t even notice your tongue blurring out the answer to his question. "You" You said. Was it a moment of weakness or courage? You couldn't tell. You could feel your cheeks getting redder. You stared back at Soobin. His eyes now wider. That was it, the cat was out of the bag. The milk was spilled, and there was no going back. "I like you" you finally admitted.

[sweetsungie]

the silence between two special songs | h.j | part 3

pairing: souncloud! jisung x reader (ft. dancer! hyunjin)

genre: college au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mature content, fwb, mutual pining, unrequited love, rapper jisung, english major reader

series: the silence between two special songs

word count: 20k

warnings: cursing, fluff, lotssss of angst, drinking, making out, jealousy, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), pet names, sad love story, y/n is oblivious and makes you want to just (!!), hyunjin playboy era?? 

synopsis:

falling in love with someone was one of the best and worst things a person could do. you'd remember the first time your heart skipped a beat at the sound of their voice and how perfectly their lips fit into yours. you'd remember how they encapsulated every single fiber being within you that you could no longer breathe when you were around them; likewise, you didn't want to.

you'd remember all the good things about them.

but then you'd remember the first time it ached knowing that they cared about you, but not enough. how they loved you, but not the way you wanted them to.

not the way you wanted hyunjin to.

and not the way jisung wanted you to.

•°. *࿐

a/n: bye i’m sorry this came out so late… i procrastinated so much it’s embarrassing!!!! anyways i hope you guys still enjoy this chapter, things get a little sad and steamy and ugh i just wish the best for our hanji <3 also!! pls listen to the series playlist as well for ultimate feels :)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

comment to be a part of the taglist <3

masterlist

series playlist

JISUNG’S INTERLUDE:

“I've held back for so long, I don't think I can do this…

I pulled together my courage and took another step toward you, just this one step was too hard. It took me a while to do it even after making up my mind.

Did I take too long? Did it all fall back on me because the timing wasn't right? 

What I did hoping to get closer to you is what built up this wall that's keeping me from you. 

It's ridiculous.

I hate myself, I hate you. I don't know who to blame, so all I'm left with is a grudge. 

I tried to break down that wall, but all that broke was my own heart. I tried to pull my heart together and lost something more important—You.

I’m sorry, I love you.”

Your bedroom felt warm, but it was cold outside. You could tell because of the foggy windows. 

You thought about it for a minute. There were things you knew but couldn't feel and there were things you could feel but didn't know how to explain. How did you get to this point?

The days did not seem special anymore: summer’s refusal to perform brought about the mischief of winter and this meticulous aftertaste was something that you had to grow to accept.

“But you loved the percussion of the summer breeze: the searing golden hues, and the warm underfoot.” The season had all the hallmarks of two lovers fighting under the glare of a subdued sun, winding up nature's orchestra into a barren landscape, just because it was fitting to do so. 

And well, no season before had ever stopped them, not spring, winter, or fall.

That was all over now, and it was only after meeting the rock that crashed through your window, you realized how love can disintegrate at a different rate from when it did implode.

felix: sorry i’m late! i’m outside :D

Earlier in the week, you had fallen with a light cold preventing you from attending class or any other place that was open to interacting with people. 

It wasn’t anything serious so by today you woke up completely healed, meaning you were able to continue life as normal. But if you were being honest, you skipped all your classes again and planned on skipping practice too, noting to come up with a lame excuse later for Minho.

And your plan was going as planned, you’d even ordered some food from your favorite restaurant. Despite your limited human interaction throughout this break, you thoroughly enjoyed your alone time. 

That was… until Felix begged you to go to practice. 

Now, as someone as resilient as you, even you could admit that it was always hard to refuse Felix. He was always just so bright and cheerful, just about everything you wanted to be. So how could you ever say no?

You attempted to bring up Hyunjin as a possible candidate to accompany him, but you were quick to remember that he had gone home for break already, which meant you needed to suck it up and go yourself.

You slipped on your shoes and grabbed your bag, making your way outside. Gosh, it was really cold today. 

The wind was blowing, making it much colder than it was supposed to be. Maybe you really should’ve skipped practice. It would've been much easier than hitchhiking through campus in the dry cold. 

You hoped Felix’s happiness would be worth it in the end.

Tracing the courtyard, you spotted him… but then, your eyes traveled even further until they found Hyunjin. What was he doing here? Now you really wished you skipped practice. 

Although you were feeling better with a hearty immune system, you still felt like a complete mess, and probably looked like one too.

But there he was, his hands shoved in the pockets of his puffer, beanie on, as he laughed at whatever Felix said. He looked beautiful without even trying.

“Y/N! Over here!” Felix called out once seeing you. 

You see, you didn't expect anybody else to tag along with the both of you—especially not Hyunjin. He was supposed to be going home for break earlier than the rest of you, spending time with his family—well this was according to what he told you sometime last week. 

Maybe something had come up. You really wouldn't have known, you barely spoke to him all week to even have a clue.

Walking over to the boys, you waved, “Hey.” 

Your eyes fell on Hyunjin briefly, and he greeted you with a smile that suddenly went against the cold wind that hit your face. This past week had been awfully hard. You couldn't see him or touch him—or quite literally do anything you wanted to do. 

Sure, both you and Hyunjin had texted a few times throughout, but it quickly died down once you both realized that there just wasn't anything to talk about. The day went on, just as did every other day and the hours ticked by as the shades of the sky grew darker.

So when you saw Hyunjin and saw that all he did was smile and wave, you frowned to yourself. 

Of course, you both weren't together—you knew that. In fact, you hadn't even discussed the kiss. He hadn't brought it up and you were too afraid that you would've ended up confessing quite literally everything you felt, scaring him away. 

But somehow you still hoped he’d be more excited to see you.

Felix's voice invaded your thoughts. “Let’s go before we’re late.” 

The three of you began your walk toward the dance studio, fueling yourselves with conversations about anything and everything you could think of. Felix was great at talking, leading, and guiding, it reminded you of how much you missed hanging out with him.

You were surprised he was able to make it to practice today to begin with. He’d been getting busier with theatre so you didn’t have the opportunity to see him that much. You could count the number of times he actually showed up to the dance studio.

Felix’s phone rang and he answered it, separating himself from the current conversation about what your winter break plans were. Soon after he did so, Hyunjin glanced over at you waiting for you to continue.

“I don't really have anything planned,” you confessed. “I’m probably going to just read and watch movies—I don't know… Not really interesting.” You felt utterly and completely boring.

Hyunjin always spoke to you gently, “Reading and watching movies sounds perfectly interesting to me, Y/N.” You couldn't help but focus on your heartbeat that suddenly grew, beating—no, pounding twice as fast. He proceeded to talk about what he had planned with his family once he went back home later this week. 

His existence seemed to be full of life and passion when he spoke, and you couldn't help but feel envious of it. You wished that could be you too.

“Are you feeling better?” He continued to shatter your expectations by being kind and compassionate. 

Suddenly, you had to shy away from the emotions in his gaze, because your heart was already a tight fist in your chest. It was constricting it so much that it was like you were wearing a corset. 

You couldn't breathe under the heaviness of his gaze.

The world needed people like him. People who cared, who: allowed vulnerability into their lives, who didn't run at the first sign of complexity, who invested time and effort into what they wanted, who were tolerant and open-minded, welcoming and caring. People who were soft with a fierce heart. The world needed him. 

Everyone hoped to be him.

Felix had somehow managed to create distance between the both of you, still lost within his own conversation with whoever it was on the other line.

You swallowed, “Yeah, all better now.” He nodded to himself, happy to hear that your cold had subsided. 

A few moments passed before he spoke again, accidentally cutting you off.

“I’m sorry!” He laughed, apologizing. He had the most beautiful eyes and couldn't remember not ever looking at them when you were with him. The gold specks in them deepened when he laughed and when he looked at you they just shined.

You waved a hand, “No, it's okay! What were you going to say?”

A smile never left his face, “It’s just that I heard that there was something going on at Chan’s and Changbin’s before break. Monday, I think?”

Your hands accidentally brushed against his as you both continued to walk, and you felt like you were alive again by simple contact. “Oh, I didn't hear about it…”

His eyebrows rose, surprised. “I thought Jisung would've told you,” he stated, flickering his eyes down at your innocent hands for a second before holding it gently. “Sorry, your hand must be freezing.”

No... Your mind was busy running around, doing laps and laps. His hand was soft, too warm and you wanted to stay here forever. “Are you going?” You mustered to ask.

You were falling to pieces by his touch. Your fists were full of unlucky pennies and your heart was a jukebox demanding a few nickels. Your head was flipping quarters, heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails.

He nodded and you raised an eyebrow, confused. “I thought you were going home early?” You questioned.

“I decided to leave on Tuesday.”

“So you’re not going home now because of a party?” You clarified, your tone accidentally coming out to be much more belittling than you intended. 

He thought about it for a few moments, awkwardly laughing. “It sounds bad when you say it like that…” He was having a hard time trying to express himself in a way that didn't make it seem like he was just throwing his family time under the bus for some stupid, lame party.

For him, he found this party to be a perfect time to rekindle his friendships. The semester was almost finished but he found himself still struggling to find his place within a group. 

Before coming back, he knew that it was going to be different—an entire year had passed. People changed, lives developed, and things just weren't the same anymore. He knew that.

But, Hyunjin never expected it to take this long.

You quickly shook your head, not wanting him to misunderstand. “I didn't mean it like that, Jinnie! It’s just… it doesn't seem like you, that's all.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not! I—” You stopped yourself, not wanting to dig yourself deeper in the hole you were already in. It was his decision, he could do whatever he wanted. It really didn't concern you. 

"You know your voice can literally make flowers grow," you stated, taking out an earbud. 

It was a Sunday evening and you were lying sprawled out on Jisung’s bed. To your surprise, the weekend consisted of nothing of substance and you remembered what that felt like after weeks to be utterly plan-less as if you hadn't dealt with it constantly before.

You felt crazy. Part of you hoped that on Friday, Hyunjin would have asked you to hang out this weekend, and when he didn't, you assumed in him asking you Saturday. Pitifully so, you spent the entire day in your empty apartment, your roommates coming in and out whenever they pleased. 

The realization that you were being quite pathetic didn't hit you until you woke up from your nap on the couch, to the sound of Jisung walking in at three in the morning. And it wasn't until you laid your head against your satin pillowcase later that night you classified yourself as insane. 

If Hyunjin texted you to see him in the middle of the night, you would’ve ran—no matter the hour. To you, anything last minute was never last minute with him.

But by the next morning, you’d figured that it would be best to stop moping around and actually get some work done. You had wasted away all weekend that even thinking of falling into the habit again made you grow sick. Self-restraint was hard but it was necessary. 

So instead of waiting for a text or call, you trapped yourself in Jisung’s room forcing yourself to not think of anything considered Hwang Hyunjin—and it worked. It worked until you realized the book he had given you was in your hands in the process of being read. In fact, you had been reading it all day. Maybe there truly was no escape. 

Although you spent most of your day in your best friend’s room, reading the now-forbidden book, Jisung’s presence was a great distraction from the constant reminders. 

He was busy himself. His headphones were on and his laptop was open, displaying his usual applications. His eyes were glued onto his screen as he worked on a song, full-focus. Yet, still, he never failed to keep up with conversation whenever you wanted.

In fact, he love the way you’d lie in his bed reading your book, unbothered and forgetting you’d spoken to him. You’d shoo him away because you hit a good part. He’d brush off your gruff attitude with a smile and continue his work.

“Oh, shut up.” Jisung’s cheeks turned into a brighter shade of pink. He shook his head humbly and retrieved the earbud from your hand. 

You playfully rolled your eyes, “I’ll never ever shut up, Sungie.” Both of you knew it was the truth. It just wasn't plausible.

"You really must have liked it then, huh?" He laughed, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle to take a sip. His throat suddenly fell dry at your compliment.

You nodded almost a million times and he found you to be so incredibly adorable doing so. It took a lot for him to not grab you and pull you closer. 

He had only shown you only a snippet, roughly about fifteen seconds, of the ballad he was working on. And although it wasn't done, he spent a lot of time on the track—more than he expected; he struggled to keep his creativity flowing due to how cloudy his mind had gotten recently.

You were definitely to blame for that. But when your compliments left your mouth like the symphony he never knew he craved, he could've sworn he had perfect pitch. It made no sense to fault you. In fact, he would've taken all responsibility over and over again before you could.

Practicing his self-restraint like always, he opted in fiddling with the faded Rubix cube on his desk. He was growing to become restless. "Good, because you're my girl. I want you to genuinely like it." 

You studied him for a few moments suspiciously, an amused smile growing on your lips. His tone seemed much more serious than he had intended and it caught you off guard.

He felt your stare and briefly looked up. “Stop, you are starting to make me self-conscious over how I speak.” 

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Don't be. It's cute in a way.” He felt blood rush through his cheeks. Was that a bad thing? You noticed his sudden fluster and scoffed lightheartedly, “Relax Sungie. It’s a good look on you.” 

“It's cute, you say…" He set the Rubix cube down and closed his laptop to join you on his bed. He leaned closer to you, and you pushed him to the side, making a face at him.

"Oh, don't pretend as if you haven't ever been told that you're cute.”

He had been sitting at his desk for hours upon hours and all he wanted to do was stretch all his limbs and muscles out—and that’s what he did. With a satisfying groan, he finished. "No, never," he lied, pleased by the direction of the conversation.

You suppressed a giggle, “You’re so stupid.” He leaned in again, this time to place his head on your open lap. You didn't push him away this time around.

"No, I’m so cute," he teased, grinning. The hands that formerly held your forbidden book now began to play with his hair. “...and so fucking tired.” He closed his eyes, instantly feeling encapsulated by the warmth of your touch. 

One thing he’d never get tired of besides your face was how your fingers moved.

"Who told you to write a song until three a.m. in the morning?" You pondered for a moment although already knowing the answer, "Oh wait. You did."

“Trust me, one look at you made me realize that I'd spend far too much time trying to write a song as beautiful as you.” He lay silent, eyes still closed. It was best he didn't continue in that direction.

He sighed, unknowingly, against your thigh. Feelings never did make sense. They’d get you all confused, then they drive you around for hours before they drop you right back where you started. 

Beginning to trace small circles on your bare skin, he decided to change the subject. "How's the book going along?"

“It’s… going.”

He opened an eye, quizically. “What does that mean?”

You shrugged, unable to correctly express your feelings. How you constantly thought about Hyunjin this weekend because you missed him. You had seen him on Friday but still, you missed his laugh, his eyes, his touch, his lips. You missed quite literally everything.

“I’m not too sure,” you answered quietly as shame washed over you.

He tutted, “You see? I knew I hated that book for a reason.” He closed his eyes once more. “It’s best you stop reading—Fuck Y/N, you’re about to make me pass out, seriously.” Peaceful bliss washed over him as you continued to run your fingers through his hair.

You laughed and halted your actions which made him groan needly. “The book itself is fine Jisung. It’s just…”

Concluding that you weren't going to continue the head rubs, he turned his head over to properly look at you. “Is it Hyunjin?” He sighed concerningly.

“I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about him.” You frowned at your words, unable to fully believe that you were telling the truth yourself. 

Frankly, Jisung was confused as hell. Not sure why you wanted to avoid the boy that you absolutely adored and loved. “And why would you want to do that?”

Words just didn't make sense to you anymore. “I don't know. He's just... I don't know. I don’t think he’s thinking of me like I do.”

At that moment, Jisung wanted to exclaim, “Hi, hello! Yes, I’m here! I may not be the tall boy with the long hair and pretty face, but I thought about you every fucking day. Does that count?”

Because it was true, he thought about you every single day. 

Everything he did always traced back to you. Scrolling through his feed, "Wow she would love that" or seeing a place so familiar that it reminded him of you. Both funny and sentimental. It was such a bittersweet feeling. It was strange being able to love someone who cared for him so little in the way he wanted. 

He wondered if you thought the way he did. Of course not about him, but about Hyunjin. Jisung wasn't naive enough anymore to think he could ever be a part of the equation. 

He was just curious—curious to know if the reminders and happy memories that raced through your mind every time you saw Hyunjin’s face or heard his endearing voice, affected you the same way you affected him. 

Had you wondered if what the both of you had together was real, too? Was it something to you at all? Did you feel what he felt? Or was he the only one thinking somehow that you and he would last a lifetime in the end?

Maybe you didn't think that way with Hyunjin, or maybe you did. He honestly didn't know and he didn't want to bother himself to learn. 

All Jisung knew was that he was jealous of the way you weren't thinking this way with him.

“We can stop talking about it, you know?” You spoke up breaking the silence that stilled in the room. Jisung’s eyes grew bigger, puzzled on where you were headed with the conversation. “I can tell when you're uncomfortable. I mean… I get it, Ji. I never spoke to you about my ‘boy problems’ before so please tell me when to stop. This is all new to me, so I can’t really tell.”

You were just so damn perfect. Everything about you was perfect. You knew him better than anyone else. You knew when he was sad or annoyed and how to cheer him up—and you always managed to cheer him up. You’d always write him paragraphs just because you wanted to and because well, with writing skills like yours, you were so good at it. 

“No, no. It’s okay. Please don’t stop.”

It couldn't get any more perfect than that. Waking up to a text bright and early in the morning when you were just sleeping next door. 

You weren't sure if you believed him. “Are you sure?”

And it would’ve continued to feel amazing if the person Jisung loved more than anything in the world loved him back. It would’ve been the best feeling in the world.

He nodded, “Yes. So please, tell me more.” No matter how he felt, he still wanted you to speak freely—unapologetically. What he was dealing with was his own issue, not yours.  

Was he in love with you again? He guessed he’d never really know for sure. He just knew he was beginning to feel things he’d worked so hard to put past him. The kind of wrenching feeling that he fought so hard to ignore, it just tore at his heart. 

But Jisung knew that he didn't own you, and perhaps he never will. So his sadness when you spoke about the boy you loved—he had no right to feel. He knew that you didn't owe him anything, and he shouldn't ask for more; he shouldn't feel so let down. 

So he spent the next few hours sprawled out on his bed with open arms, listening to your insecurities and doubts. How everything started, how it was going, quite literally everything you needed to get off your chest—you did.

“Maybe I should just let him go." You held the pillow closer to your chest. 

"Then do it. Leave him."

You looked up at your friend, frowning. "It’s easier said than done. I just feel like if I do I won't ever be this close to anyone again." A few moments passed, "You have to understand, I put so much into our friendship hoping for more. I poured so much into him, gave him so much..." You trailed off.

Jisung tilted your chin up to meet his, “Exactly. You love him with a love that absolutely consumed you and he still doesn't seem to put you first." 

And it wasn't until the clock hit eleven at night that you realized that you were probably overreacting. 

Jisung had given you advice, more biased towards his own feelings, but regardless you didn't take it. Seemingly enough, you had spent yet another day thinking about Hyunjin except you had dragged your friend down the rabbit hole with you.

“You really should’ve told me to shut up!” You groaned, rolling your eyes at how much you rambled and word-vomited for hours. “Now I wasted our entire night.”

No, he was right there, and he wanted to listen. Whenever you were sad, he wanted to hear why. He wanted to know what you were feeling, all the time, so he could share those feelings with you.

Jisung chuckled, giving you a soft smile. “It’s alright. I didn't have anything planned anyways.” Except for the fact that he needed to be at Chan and Changbin’s almost two hours ago. Surely, they understood Jisung’s situation though as he sent them a bullshit, yet believable excuse. 

Sighing, you snuggled your head against him to get more comfortable. “How did we get so boring? I feel like we’re thirty with a nine-to-five.”

“People with nine-to-five don't rot on their beds for this long, Y/N.” He laughed loudly, “But I agree. I guess it’s ‘cause nothing is exciting anymore.”

“Hm, that's probably the reason,” you wondered to yourself. “I guess we should probably make it exciting then, huh?” A sly smirk formed on your lips.

He looked at you slightly confused for a few moments before he understood the direction you were headed in. 

“Sleepover?” The both of you said it in unison and laughed immediately after. 

Let’s just say he owed you a soda after the jinx contest.

Jisung’s head was propped in his hand, his elbow, body angled toward you. The light from the TV screen in his room just barely caught his eyes, drawing liquidy slivers of color in them.

He rolled his eyes, "Fine, I take it back. I love his character. Does that make you happy?" 

You maneuvered onto your side, facing him, and nodded with a ridiculous grin. "It makes me very happy, Sungie.”

His knee bumped yours. You bumped his back.

A shadow of a smile passed over his serious face; there and gone so fast you might've imagined it. "Good," he said.

The both of you stayed like that for a long time, watching the movie from an angle where neither of you could possibly see more than half the screen, your knees pressed into one another.

Whenever one of you rearranged, the other followed. Whenever one of you could no longer bear the discomfort of one position, you both shifted. But you both never stopped touching, and Jisung believed he was in dangerous territory.

It was nearly two in the morning before both of you realized that it was inevitably time to call it a night and go to bed.

Although the both of you were film junkies and often tended to have binge parties with each other on a normal occurrence, it was rare to have sleepovers nowadays—especially when your rooms were right beside each other. There just didn't seem to be a point in them anymore.

The last time you remembered having one was when you two moved into your apartment sophomore year. Before that, you nearly had them every weekend. You’d never forget the unexpected sleepovers in high school where Jisung would always run back home across the street to quickly grab his toothbrush. 

It was strange how your childhood sort of felt like forever. Then suddenly you both were sixteen and the world became an hourglass, and you're watching the sand pile up at the wrong end. 

“We really, really need to sleep,” Jisung yawned. His tired eyes were evident in showing the lack of sleep he had been getting this past week. You agreed and stood up, causing him to watch you, “Oh, are you not spending the night?” 

He wanted you to stay.

“I’ll be back. Just gonna use the bathroom.”

The apartment looked abandoned, so dark and quiet. It made sense for the hour. Minho was surely in the middle of his rem cycle, peacefully asleep. You wished you took care of yourself half as well as Minho took care of himself. 

Entering the bathroom, you quickly brushed your teeth and ran back over to Jisung’s room. Were you excited? Of course, you were. It had been a long time and you missed the feeling of having an authentic sleepover without one of you going to your own bed.

Soon after you came back, he headed to the bathroom himself. You let your back fall onto his bed with a sigh. 

You should probably change into your sleepwear before you passed out soon, but the thought of walking over to your room sounded like the biggest mission ever.

Your eyes felt heavy. Maybe you could just sleep in what you were already in, that would've been the easiest way to satisfy your desire for slumber. But you’d feel uncomfortable in your tight shirt though. You pondered for a moment before deciding on wearing one of Jisung’s shirts. 

Yeah, that sounded much better.

Slapping yourself awake and mustering what little energy you had, you dragged your feet over to his dresser. His drawers were always a mess and honestly, you had found his shirts thrown in about every single one of them. 

So what you saw—it really wasn't your fault.

You blinked a few times, your eyes focusing on the box that was underneath the shirt you just picked up. A box of condoms was placed near the corner of the drawer, some of the foiled elastics scattered messily around.

Just in time, Jisung walked back in and noticed your blank expression. He snickered, “What?” He took off his hoodie, throwing it onto his empty desk chair before jumping into bed. The lack of words concerned him. “Earth to Y/N-”

Fear was strange. 

You supposed it settled on chests and seeped through skin—through layers of tissue, muscle, and bone—collecting itself in a black hole and sucking the joy out of life. The pleasure, and the beauty. 

But not the hope. Somehow, the hope was the only thing resistant to the fear, and it was that hope that made the next breath possible, the next step, the next tiny act of rebellion, even if that rebellion was simply a kiss.

Within a matter of seconds, you found yourself on the bed beside Jisung. The shirt in your hands was thrown on the end of his bed. Confusion still narrowed his face as you brought your hand to his cheek. He didn't flinch or move—even speak. 

Suddenly he wasn't capable of it anymore.  

And unexpectedly, without a word, you kissed him. Your breathing sounded too loud. Your heart was beating too quickly.

Oh, God. What had you done?

He could’ve sworn that he felt the stars turn emerald and gold to match your aura. The moon would’ve given your skin enough radiance to leave glowing traces on his skin when you did so. This made him long to be underneath the night sky with you once more.

Honesty, you felt so stupid. You felt so stupid because your feelings were heightened from confessing and stupidly sharing your feelings earlier—so much so, you kissed Jisung. It was a mistake. 

You were sitting vulnerable, lips pressed against your best friend. You felt naked—not literally. But that's how it felt. You were sitting there trembling and metaphorically naked, and you had no idea what he was thinking.

Terror rushed through you as you pulled away and met his eyes. You were expecting him to be upset, rightfully so. You had kissed him without warning, without a word. But your doubts quickly subsided in a matter of seconds. 

He always envied people like that, people like you. People could just act on their impulses and go out on a whim. He envied how you could just decide to go and do without worrying about what could happen until after. He envied how free you were, and how your energy could bring a room to life. 

Maybe that was what compelled him to kiss you again.

In one quick move, he reached for you, tugging you against his chest as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was so much hotter, but no less intimate than the first. 

His lips slanted over yours, hot and needy as his tongue tasted your mouth. His arms held you so tightly it made you feel more secure than you had ever felt in a very long time.

You suddenly felt more than secure; you felt adored. You felt seen and heard, and like the most important person on the planet.

But you see, people like him could merely dream of people like you.

He pulled away with a light groan, “I’m sorry.” He felt shame wash over him as he caught himself getting carried away.

“Jisung—”

“No, no. I’m sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head.

They always said that the moon loved the sun. Jisung never understood the pain that the moon must have been in. How much those moments when they crossed paths must have meant to it. 

He was starting to understand now. He couldn't ever have you. He could never hold you or need you because, in the end, he couldn't have you. 

So it all felt wrong. He shouldn't be kissing you—not right now at least. Not when he could be easily convinced that you wanted him. It was too late in the night for him to separate your real feelings from the agreement you’d both made together.

Sure, he could’ve pretended that you wished to be his and make it easier for both of you. He could create this idea that you had secretly wanted him all along. And then, he’d forget that it was just something he had made up. But, he’d be dumb to do that. You didn't want him and you were not his.

You on the other hand were unable to decide on what you should've felt. Embarrassment should've been the first thing on the list, but somehow desire still found its way to the top. And because of that, you were so selfish, so inconsiderate, so self-centered for what you were about to do.

“Don’t be sorry, Sungie.”

You stood, grabbing the shirt you had previously tossed on the bed. Jisung had no other choice but to watch you as you took off your shirt, unhooked your bra, and let it slip to the floor before pulling one of his shirts over your head.

Jisung’s eyes flare wide and he shot up. Suddenly he was taking back his apology and morals. One night wouldn’t hurt him as bad, he hoped. 

"No, no. That was way too fast... do it again.” His voice was strained and you huffed out a laugh.

Purposely ignoring his request, you pulled off your lounge shorts, and Jisung bit back his tongue, dramatically throwing himself back on the pillow to face the ceiling.

"What?" you asked, continuing to laugh at his expense.

"Well, first of all. You just flashed me for the first time—you're evil for that, by the way..." He raised himself to lean on one elbow. "Second, you said you'd be cool with spending the night with me after a long time, which is very sweet of you because I think there are ghosts in this room…” 

He was trying his hardest to not address the elephant in the room, and you let him continue to speak because he wasn’t done yet.

"Lastly, you look so fucking adorable in my clothes.”

Raising an eyebrow quizzically, you gasped in disbelief, “Hey! Don’t I always?” You sat back on his bed, close to him, still aware of the frustration that was lurking in the air. 

It was clear he was also fighting the urge to grab you and swallow you. He nervously chuckled, opting to bunch the fabric at your waist into his grasp. 

No, you didn't understand… You looked so adorable in his clothes that he wanted to rip them off you. 

He pulled you closer to him because he just couldn't help himself anymore. And you couldn't either by the way you didn't bother hearing what he had to say next. 

Instead, you reconnected both of your lips and the both of you felt a wave of ecstasy fill your bodies in excitement. 

You never really processed what was happening as it was all going too fast. But, this was Jisung. The Jisung who would never judge you—who would never make you feel as little as you made yourself feel. Who would tease you, but never fail to compliment you. He was good to you in his own way. A little too good. 

You pulled back, trying to breathe. When you eased back on your heels, it seemed like for a fraction of a moment before Jisung followed you, trying to fill the gap between your mouths again. He wanted this so much more than you could ever imagine.

So, lightly pushing him back on the bed—your lips still connected—you slid on top and straddled him. Perfect. A shot of adrenaline coursed through him when he felt your arms trap him, your clothed core pressed against his.

He felt your muscles relax this time around. It wasn't common that you found yourself this close to Jisung despite your long history. This was far too different, far too new.

With a sigh of something like defeat, he ran his hands up and down your bare thighs, repeating, "You're perfect. So, so perfect for me” like a mantra in his head. Your lips were soft, so soft. He had kissed you before but he nearly melted this time.

And you moved, grinding slowly against him teasingly, which made his heart race and mouth go dry. His breathing sped up. All of his blood rushed south, and he was harder than a fucking brick. He was definitely in a lot more pain than he’d ever been before. 

He needed to be inside of you. But he was patient—of course, he was.

You pushed his hand down to where your butt met your thigh. He had to bend down a lot and it got his mouth much closer. Now, you pulled his other hand up from your ribs, to the side of your breast. 

He looked like he was about to pass out. Your ego was nearly too big to fit in this room.

He had his hands on you. Too bold for your own good. You lifted his hand and snuck it up underneath the loose shirt, pressing his fingertips up your hips… up your torso… and up to your breasts… just to see what happened.

Whatever control he had over himself slipped significantly and his hand regained its autonomy. His thumb traced your nipple, gently, making you suck in a breath at the coldness of his finger. "Jisung." You muttered, parting from his lips.

His eyes grew to be hooded, heavy with slumber still as he quietly spoke, "Do you want to stop?" His thumb continued to make patterns and it made you have the urge to press your body closer to him.

"No,” you answered. "Do you?"

He shook his head, feeling rather pathetic realizing how quickly he did so. 

You brushed away the hair from his forehead. “How badly do you want it?”

So badly—More than anything.

But then reality hit him. This was your first time. It wasn't fair of him to do this, right? His thumb came to a stop and he loosened his grip around you. 

He thought he was finally over you. He really thought he was finally over you. But his mind slowly always crept back. No matter the situation, the people around him, or what he was doing. You were always there. 

In the deepest parts of his mind. He still wanted you. He began to think that he always will.

“You seem hesitant.”

“I’m not,” he defended which made you give him a certain look, causing him to sigh. He pulled away just enough to look at you, “It’s just…” He spoke up once more. “It’s your first time—I just can't help but think—”

“You don't have to worry about me.” Yes, he did. He will always end up worrying about you. You grabbed his hand, wrapping it around your torso so he could hold you tighter like before, like you missed the feeling of his weight pressed against you.

He looked down at you, eyes wide, unable to stop himself from looking from your eyes to your lips and back again. This feeling was not new to him, he had sex with a few girls before, but you were different, and he just didn't want to rob you of your first. 

It took every ounce within him to pull away, "No, I'm being serious—” 

He wanted you so badly, not just sexually. He would’ve been just fine with continuing to listen to you talk for hours about nothing. 

His eyes fell onto your wet lips again. He just wanted you. All of your flaws, mistakes, smiles, giggles, jokes, sarcasm, habits—everything the world had to offer. He just wanted you.

Your thumb caressed his jaw, sweetly, “Are you afraid that something would happen to me, Sungie?”

He nodded back trying his hardest to not focus on the way you looked at him so suddenly. You gently placed your hand on his cheek, guiding his head lower to you. 

See for Jisung, he didn't care about himself. He would always put you before him and it was no doubt a question up for discussion. But, he had promised himself that the next girl he would end up having sex with would be someone he would love. Someone he would end up being with, hopefully, for the rest of his life. 

He didn't expect that to be you.

You tilted your head, and ever so softly pressed your lips against his. And suddenly he felt his body tense up from underneath you because he was afraid. Afraid about who he would be after everything. 

Are you afraid that something would happen to me? It kept replaying in his mind, over and over again.

He wanted to say, “No no, maybe it wasn't that… maybe I’m just afraid of falling,” but he remained silent, falling into a sorrowful euphoria as he drowned that were your lips. 

Maybe if he did say it though, you would’ve said something along the lines of “You're not going to fall, silly,” and then he would’ve followed up with, “Yes, I will—if we continue this, I'm a goner.”

But he remained silent. 

Instead, he put a hand under your knee to lift your leg over his hip. His fingertips stroked up under the hem of the shirt you wore, making a smooth line up your outer thigh to the side of your underwear. 

When his fingertips touched the elastic and you shivered. "Have you ever… touched yourself?" He breathed out against your lips.

You nodded and he nearly came at the thought of you unraveling yourself next door. What did you think about? Who were you thinking of? How come he hadn't heard you? 

Suddenly he felt like a creep, wondering and fantasizing about how you got off.

“Have you?” You redirected it to him. He scoffed lightheartedly, pulling your hand to his lower half where the evidence of his attraction was obvious through his sweatpants. 

The answer was clear and you dared to glance down his body—to what strained under his pants. 

His lips were so swollen, so red. He already looked so fucked out and nothing even happened yet. You wondered how you looked from his perspective. 

All you knew was that whenever his cold fingers traced you anywhere, you shuttered. 

“W-What do you like?” He choked out, his fingers continuing to graze the lining of your underwear.

He was absolutely in love with the way your breathing changed as soon as he touched your body. He could only imagine your sweet moans mixed in with little screams of pleasure, all because of him. But still, he was afraid of making the wrong move that would fuck it all up. 

You didn’t answer his question and instead tugged on the fabric of his shirt, “Off.” 

In his world, your wish was his command, and seconds later, he threw off his shirt somewhere in his room. Your hands desperately traveled down to the waistband of his sweatpants in an attempt to help him take it off too.

"No," he said, stopping your hands from continuing further. "Let me touch you first.” He had wanted to do it for so long. 

You didn't say no. Instead, you laid, wide-eyed, gazing up at him as his fingertips traced your temples, then your cheekbones, then—softly despite his rough calluses—outlined the shape of your mouth as if he meant to commit it to memory. 

The gesture made your heart abruptly spin inside your chest. His eyes remained fixated on you, as dark as the bottom of the ocean, wondering, dazed with discovery. 

Laying still, his fingertips left your mouth and trailed a path down your throat, stopping at your pulse. Your eyelids fluttered half-closed as his warm hand covered your bare collarbone. 

You recalled when you felt Hyunjin’s hair graze your neck that moment in the art studio—when you really believed nothing could feel better than feeling his presence overtop you. It was as if Jisung’s hands did the same to your skin. 

You burned where he touched you, and could feel where his fingers had been even when they had moved on. 

His hands moved lightly but lower, over the bodice of your shirt, following the curves of your hips. You gasped, as his hands slid to grip your waist and draw you toward him, pulling your bodies together until there was not a millimeter of space.

You ached for more contact. Your hand slid to your ribs to cover his through the cotton. He looked up at you through dark lashes and began to lift a corner of your shirt, up your thighs, and past your hip, until it caught right under your breast. 

You gave him a helpless look, and he prowled closer. His fingers found the loose hem of your shirt. "Can I?" he asked quietly.

You whispered, "Yes.”

Jisung still studied your eyes, as if reading the sincerity of that word and deeming it true. Gently, he pulled the fabric from you. Cool air kissed your skin, pebbling it. The flexible band around your hips remained, but Jisung’s gaze remained on your own. 

"Tell me what you want next," he said, tucking the strands of hair that had fallen onto your face.

Hand nervous, you grazed a finger over your underwear.

Jisung’s own hands shook as he reached to pull it down. As he revealed you to the air, to him. His eyes seemed to go wholly black as he took in the entire sight of you, your uneven breathing.

Beautiful.

Your mouth curled as his expression settled within you. It gave you enough courage that you grabbed his hand and guided him to your seeping heat. His eyes widened, the darkness concealing his sudden shock. 

You were so wet. So, incredibly and seemingly wet that he could pull his fingers away and see the string of arousal follow him. 

And at that moment, he realized, you couldn't get any more attractive than this. Seeping out and he barely even touched you. Not because of Hyunjin—not because of yourself—but because of him.

Jisung trembled with restraint. It was an emotion, you weren't aware he had.

That darling purr of his rumbled into you as he pressed his mouth against yours once more. His hand drifted to your hair, each stroke unbinding the braid you lazily made earlier sometime during the movie.

"We only go as far and long as you want," he muttered, his tongue exploring yours. He was trying his hardest to leave his mark. The one Hyunjin had taken and erased from you with his lips before. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Jisung gently brushed his thumb over your throbbing clit and you felt your muscles tighten at the contact. 

"Good?" He asked. It was clear he was trying to understand and study what you liked. He worked a finger up and down your slit, much to your demise, lazily playing with your arousal. 

You were growing light-headed.

You pulled him back in, capturing his lips hungrily—fingers getting stuck in his messy hair. “Sungie. Please.”

“I know—I know shhh,” he hushed sweetly into your ear, before kissing below your jawline and making his way in between your legs. You couldn't be held responsible for what happened next.

He slipped a finger, your mouth agape at the feeling. You had only fingered yourself before and you had grown used to the feeling of your own fingers inside you. But his—they were longer and thicker, you couldn't think straight. 

He started to move them in and out slowly to get you adjusted to the pressure of his fingers inside you. But you were extremely wet that it didn't take long for him to start fingering you properly, hooking his fingers into you. 

“You’re so tight,” he sighed beginning to play with your clit with his other hand. Your hands quickly grabbed ahold of his shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the stimulation. “But, you have to be quiet…” He was referring to your clueless friend who was just across the hallway fast asleep.

You see, you would have answered, praising him for fitting you and making you feel so good that he needed to warn you about being loud... if he hadn't closed the distance between your clit and his mouth. 

It was a little more than you’d expected—your hips rising at the sudden contact. His hand went onto your waist to steady you a little. 

Your jaw dropped, “Fuck—” 

Jisung was eating you out, his tongue playing so skillfully against your bud. He was really trying to ruin you, huh? You couldn't think straight anymore and it certainly didn't warrant the way his heart pounded in his chest wondering if you fell in love with his mouth. 

He inserted another finger into your cunt, making you muffle your moan with the back of your hand. Your head was spinning. His fingers pumped, curling into you so perfectly as his mouth was on your heat, tasting you, devouring you.

You forced yourself to think straight and it worked until the pressure on your lower stomach began to build. You had no idea how much time you had left but all you knew was that you couldn't go on for much longer. 

“Ji, I-I’m going to cum.”

He felt something warm as he felt you release into his mouth. You tasted so pure and sweet. It didn't help that you looked so alluring contracting against his fingers either, as your walls pulsated with pleasure. 

It was powerful and perfect and beautiful. When it was too much, you pulled him up to you. He watched as you twitched with the last aftershocks of pleasure, feeling your little heart beat a drum against his own. 

At this moment, he had everything. Every last thing he needed.

He waited a few moments, the sounds of both of your breaths filling up the room. His chin was glistening in your arousal and you had the oddest impulse to just lick it off. 

Understanding the sudden hunger in your eyes, he hovered himself over you. "Can I fuck you?" he asked against your mouth fulfilling your desire.

Kissing him back, you pulled him even closer, tracing his hot, sweaty skin. He knew he wasn't worthy, but he selfishly wanted you anyway. 

"Mmm?" Your breaths were still heavy from your orgasm and you clenched on nothing but his words.

"Can I fuck you? Please?"

Nodding, you reached down for him to help take off his sweatpants, but he wasn't sure if there was time for that. He was hard in a way that was painful and urgent—different from ever before, and your flawless, soft, tight core was right there, ready for him.

Nonetheless, he quickly parted from you to slip out of his pants and boxers, grabbing a condom from the drawer you had mistakenly opened. You began to wonder what would've happened if you hadn't opened the drawer. Would you have been fucking your best friend? Maybe it would've happened in a week from now—maybe two. 

You weren't sure. 

All you were certain about was that you needed him to fill you up.

He glided his tip along your slit, teasing you. And when he began to slide inside of you—slowly—afraid of hurting you in any way, his existence narrowed to the bare details: the pressure around his dick, strained, world-defining; Your eyes held his own, shocked-wide; the air between you, warm, heavy.

"You're so big," you gasped, wincing.

He groaned into your neck. Maybe he was big. Still. "You can take it." Nothing, nothing existed, except for the pleasure tingling at the base of his spine.

"I can," you agreed, still adjusting to him. Your walls clenched on Jisung’s length and he had to close his eyes, or else it would’ve been over right now.

And when he finally moved from inside of you, your toes curled with the unbelievable feeling. It was so much deeper like this, and he lifted your hips a little so you were able to absorb every inch. You were filled and stretched, and he felt like his work was only halfway finished. He wanted you to feel complete.

He rocked inside you, and it was torture. Delicious, drowning torture.

You grabbed his hand, guiding it to your swollen bud below. He was quick to catch on and began rubbing circles which made you slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. 

“It was too late in the night—and Minho was right across the hallway,” you kept reminding yourself.

Jisung worked your clit slowly, making your thighs tighter at his sides. You were purely in bliss. Nothing could make you mad or upset when you were filled with pleasure in this way. 

You began to wonder why you had waited so long to fuck someone. For Hyunjin? Suddenly you didn't care.

He hit the spot deep inside of you, and your head flipped back, jaw-dropping as you released quite literally the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. You were convinced that you’d still feel where he was inside of you the next day. 

He pushed his hips up hard against you, sending shudders through your body. “Y-You’re doing so well,” he moaned out. If he was being honest, he could've came the second he felt your walls close in on him. 

His breath against your ear made you shudder with each deliberate release of air. "I’ve wanted to make you feel this way," he repeated over and over again to himself. "Every moment of every hour of every day that I have been with you since the day I met you. But you know that. You must know. Don't you?"

“Faster—please.”

"Are you close baby?" He whimpered, his brows furrowing as he began to feel his high rising. He was getting sloppier and sloppier.

The feeling was so erotic and the sounds he made weren’t helping. It was only getting you closer and closer to your release. 

Your body had lost control as you nodded frantically at his question. The ripple inside you turned into a wave, your mouth pooling with whines. 

It wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love you like this. 

When he first met you— when you had moved into the house across the street, sleeping so beautifully in your carrier, just like him, he wouldn't have ever imagined that you would be the one he would ache for. That you would be the one whose name left him with a nostalgic pain. 

You meant more to him than ever expected.

You moaned loudly into your hand, afraid to wake Minho as your high washed over you—diligently this time around. Your body fell into waves of contractions as Jisung’s head dropped in the nook of your neck, fucking through your sweet release until his own shot right into the condom.

He always told you that no matter what you did or what he did, he’d always love you. You’d always hug him and smother him with kisses all over saying how much you’d always love him too. 

Of course, you meant it completely platonically—but at the time, he savored your words and couldn't stop smiling for weeks. 

Jisung wished he could tell his younger self a few things. Never did he ever picture you underneath, tears brimming in your eyes as he made you come so well. And it was harder for him to believe that he was doing it for the wrong reasons. You didn't do it out of love or lust. It wasn't infatuation or hate.

But seemingly enough, he couldn't be too bothered right now. You both were fucked out, unable to speak as your throat grew sore just like the space in between your legs. 

To him, it was worth it.

This was when part of him realized he would always be stuck on you. It was clear he had little to no self-respect for himself when it came to you. Why? He had no idea. Maybe because you were the first person he had truly unconditionally loved. Maybe because you were the only one who was able to put him in this excruciating pain.

He kissed your forehead, sweetly, and thought to himself, "I swear there is no one I would ever love the way I love you."

Pulling out of you, he instantly missed the warmth and tightness that you had given him prior. He believed that was when he had gotten scared of the world around him, feeling so vulnerable and open. He wanted to go back into the world he had created with you and stay there forever. And ever. And ever.

It was silent as Jisung threw away the sticky condom in his bin. The air in the room was still and he couldn't bring himself to say a word to break the tension. You were still recovering from everything and could only focus on the white ceiling while doing so. 

He threw his sweatpants back on, grabbing a towel from his closet to clean you up. He wasn't sure if you minded the mess you made all over yourself, but he took it up himself to wipe it away nonetheless.

"So this is what sex with you would be like.”

His face fell pale and he peered up from in between your legs. You couldn't resist teasing him regardless of the hour. 

Clearing his throat, he licked his dry lips, unsure of what to say. He suddenly felt so awkward—something that was rare when it came to the both of you. Instead of replying, he did his last swipe and finished cleaning you. 

Throwing the towel in his hamper, he joined you in his sheets, quickly not favoring the space in between you both.

You turned around to face him. “Sungie?”

It was dark in his room, but he could still see your face so well. He had memorized every part of you so skillfully that it began to petrify him. 

What if he’d never forget you? What if, all his life, whenever he’d meet someone new, he could never fall for them because they weren't you? 

“Hm?” He hummed in a low voice.

He’d never forget the songs you’d listened to or the things you’d talked about. He wouldn't dare forget the little inside jokes you both had or the laughs you shared. Surely, he wouldn't ever forget your smile or the sound of your voice. 

He’d never forget you, so please, don't forget him.

You woke up to the blaring sound of Jisung’s alarm.

Fluttering your eyes open, you were faced with him peacefully asleep. His hair was a mess and his arm was lazily draped over your body. The sunlight that crept past the blinds hit his bare back, a golden hue forming, and you had the sudden impulse to touch it. Just trace it and feel the marks you made last night.

The alarm continued.

“Maybe that would have been odd of you to do that,”  you wondered. But it was just so tempting that your fingers began to tingle from the thought. Your eyes were still hooded from your slumber and your eyesight wasn't the best but it almost looked like Heaven had appeared from behind him. 

Faded footsteps around the apartment began to sound, growing to become evidently prominent as they came to a stop behind the bedroom door. That was when the realization hit you. 

You had fucking class today. 

There was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Ji, you up?” Minho called out. 

Your eyes widened and you jumped up, throwing Jisung’s arm off you. It was evident he didn't hear or feel a single thing as he simply snuggled up against his pillow once more. 

Panicked by your compromising position with Minho behind the door, you tried to look for your phone. 

“Jisung!” You whispered adamantly, attempting to wake the boy up. 

His room was a mess. It wasn't like it was anything new, but today, it was too messy. His comforter reached the bottom of his bed, and blankets and pillows fallen off to the ground. Both of your clothes were scattered, pizza boxes and empty soda cans cluttered on his desk. 

It also didn't help that his alarm was still blaring that annoying tune.

Minho knocked again, louder. You jumped at the sound, throwing on Jisung’s shirt from last night. “Hanji, your alarm is loud as shit. Wake up,” he groaned and knocked for the third time.

Nothing.

Jisung was the heaviest sleeper ever. You grabbed a pillow from off the ground and smacked it onto his head and almost instantly his eyes shot open, startled. 

“What the fu—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, “Minho is here and I think I’m late for class.” He was still shocked by his abrupt awakening to process the words that exited your mouth. “Can you please turn off your alarm?” 

He wordlessly clicked the off button, unable to form a coherent sentence still.

Minho spoke again from behind the door, “Took you long enough.”

Aggressively signaling for Jisung to reply, his eyes widened, unsure of what to say. Ultimately enough the boy cleared his dry throat. “O-Oh sorry Lino?” He was rather confused and it was clear by the tone of his response.

“Don’t worry about it. It was just so loud,” Minho stifled a lighthearted laugh. You rolled your eyes at his laid-back tone. If you were in Jisung’s shoes, your door would've been busted down by now. “Anyways, I’m making pancakes. You want some?”

“Yeah sure, thanks. I'll be out in a bit.” 

Once Minho walked off, you groaned continuing to scavenge the mess on the ground in search of your phone. Pancakes sounded really good right now and you could feel your stomach begin to grumble as you thought about devouring them. 

You picked up a stray pillow from off the ground and finally saw a familiar case. “Thank God,” you sighed. Once turning it on, you noticed two things. One, that you were indeed late for class, and two, that you had a few missed messages from Hyunjin.

hyunjin: hey, are you coming to lit? 

hyunjin: maybe we can walk togetherrrr

hyunjin: lol i guess ur skipping??

Jisung finally spoke up, “So are you actually late?” You nodded, busy as you figured out how to respond to Hyunjin. 

He sat up against his headboard, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Noticing your stale expression as you looked at your phone, he leaned over to grab his phone from his nightstand. 

“What time is it? Is it that bad?” 

You sat back on his bed, “No, it’s only ten but—it’s just that Hyunjin texted me.”

Jisung glanced up from his phone briefly before looking back down. He tried his hardest to not show how bothered he’d become in a matter of seconds. “What did he say?” He yawned. Honestly, he could've cared less, especially after last night, but he was always such a curious soul.

“He wanted to walk to class together.” You were attempting to formulate a text to respond with, but your mind kept blanking. “I’m not sure of what to say…” You turned to him, handing your phone over with pleading eyes. “Can you please make something up?”

You see, most people compared eyes to oceans or galaxies. Not your eyes though. They reminded him of his favorite thing, coffee. He thought about it for a moment, and then met your eyes. That was when he realized that's probably why he felt so awake when you looked at him. You were like coffee in the morning. 

He sat up straighter, gulping, with wide eyes. “Y-Yeah, of course.” It was when he took your phone he wondered why you wouldn't just tell Hyunjin the truth—that you woke up late. But he’d rather not question you, not when he was simply willing to do anything you wanted him to.

He sent a text and handed the phone back to you.

You didn't bother reading what he had sent, too ashamed of yourself for waking up late and missing an opportunity with Hyunjin after a long weekend apart. 

“Thanks.” 

Jisung gave you a thin-lipped smile, finally standing up from his bed. Not only did he realize his room was an utter mess, but he felt like he was about to pass out again when he took a look at you on his bed still.

Of course, you were clothed this time around, but even seeing you wearing his shirt made his chest flutter. It wasn't good for his sanity to see you there anymore. 

“Aren't you late for class?” 

You groaned, throwing your head on his pillow in despair. You were killing him, seriously. “I’m already late. Should I still g-”

“Yes.” His tone was adamant which caught you by surprise

“Woah, did I suck that bad last night?” You scoffed, jokingly. Jisung felt something in his pants twitch as he finally recalled the events that he wanted to ignore. Your eyes trailed down to his sweatpants and you laughed. “Hmm, I guess not.”

His jaw dropped and he quickly grabbed a pillow from the floor to cover his very clear hard-on. For the first time, in a long time, he was embarrassed in front of you. There was no doubt that he was flustered, his cheeks darkened in color as he tried whatever he could to suppress the feeling between his legs. 

But his mind kept running to when you first kissed him last night to when you begged for him, and when he begged for you—it was all too much to take right now.

Of course, you were good. 

He decided to let that topic of conversation die out because he’d die of embarrassment himself if he didn't. “So, are you coming tonight?” Clearing his throat, he hugged the pillow against his crotch tighter silently praying that by the time he removed it, everything would be okay. 

“Tonight? What’s tonight?”

“Chan and Bin’s party.”

Ah, the event Hyunjin referred to on Friday that he was going to—well, maybe he wasn't anymore. Who knew? The lack of communication was killing you and you felt a pit in your stomach again when you recalled the missed opportunity with him this morning again. 

You were getting tired of yourself, you shouldn't think too much about him.

So you thought about it for a moment, unknowingly letting your eyes drift down to the pillow that was held against Jisung’s trembling hands. “Whose going to be there?”

“Everyone you know. Come.” 

“Well, what if it's boring?” 

The boy rolled his eyes at your obvious attempt to be difficult on purpose. “It won't be boring! I’ll be there.”

“That's interesting considering you're in the middle of hiding your boner Jisung.” You suppressed another laugh, a smile was plastered on your face. Toying with him was one of the best things you knew how to do.

That’s interesting, considering you fucked your best friend.

If it was possible for someone's face to catch on fire, his would’ve been by now. He didn't even know what to say, he was at a loss for words. His expression was evident and he didn't even bother to conceal it.

“Relax, I’ll think about it.”

It wasn't long until you found yourself getting ready for the party later that night. Inevitably enough, you already knew that you were going to end up attending. Especially since you were about eighty percent sure that Hyunjin was going to be there. 

You just missed him a lot, and you couldn't stop thinking about him.

“Are you almost ready?” Minho peered into your room. Seeing how you were in the middle of grabbing your bag and already dressed, he assumed you were. “Nevermind, I guess you are. ” 

The both of you ended up walking over to your friend's house together as it wasn't too far away. You were really starting to get tired of the cold, mostly at night when the sun was gone and the wind went crazy. 

Minho turned over to you, “Ji said he that he’s already there, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he went early to set up. Let’s hope they are done by now.”

“If they aren't, I’m going back home. I still need to pack for break,” he nonchalantly said, causing you to laugh. His personality was very unique that often you wondered if he’d ever find someone to be with.

You looped your arm in his, partly because you knew he would roll his eyes and because, well, you were cold. “I’m sure they’re done Lino.”

Finally arriving, the both of you were greeted by Changbin at the door. 

“Hey guys!” He was a cheerful mess and you wondered if he was already drunk. The party technically hadn't even started yet but still, suddenly you wanted to be on his level. 

Minho scrunched his nose in distaste, “How are you already drunk?” You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. 

“I kept taste testing the punch…” Changbin confessed, a grin still plastered onto his face.

There was a voice in the back that abruptly called out to Changbin. “Are people here already? You automatically knew who it was just by that.

Jisung appeared, his eyes instantly catching yours. “O-Oh hey guys.” He cleared his throat realizing how weird he sounded. You just looked so pretty that you caught him by surprise. Not that it was anything new—but he had to stop getting nervous like this. “Finally, you guys made it! We need some help.”

There was a groan from beside you, “I knew it…Y/N, didn't I tell you.”

“Mhm, you did,” you nodded, pursing your lips.

“Tell her what?” Jisung wanted to know too.

Minho sighed dramatically at the boy, “That you guys were going to take forever to set up!”

Jisung’s mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape because it was true. Low expectations were needed when it came to setting up for parties. But despite the struggle in doing so, 3Racha always ended up throwing the best functions on campus, so for that, he was still happy.

“Ji, where do you guys need us? We’ll help.” You asked, disregarding your friend's complaints from beside you.

After hearing his orders, you all headed to your designated stations. Yours was to blow up the remainder of the balloons and you thought that was a pretty easy task… until you were actually doing it. 

Your lungs were suffering by the time you tied the tenth balloon. There was no way you were going to finish the entire bag.

Jisung on the other hand was making some random concoction with Changbin in the kitchen as Minho, annoyed as ever, poured snacks into several big bowls.

All of you had about an hour until people would show up and that was more than enough time to finish everything. Well, aside from the current balloon you were attempting to blow.

Your phone buzzed with a text, and you gladly took it as a sign to give your lungs a break.

jisung: i hate you for looking so pretty today wtf

You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes. He was too ridiculous.

you: that’s not very nice

jisung: fine, what do you want me to say?

jisung: damn ma the universe took its time with you

you: definitely not that…

The both of you texted for a minute more before somebody walked over to you. Setting your phone down, you realized that it was Chan.

He sat beside you on the couch, “Do you need some help? I know balloons can be a tad bit tricky.”

Your eyes lit up and you smiled. “Oh my gosh, yes! Thank you! I thought I was going to die.”

Soon enough the both of you were able to finish whatever was left of the bag in a reasonable amount of time and Chan proceeded to then work on the music.

Minho walked in and plopped onto the couch beside you. Assuming his task was done too, you offered if he wanted a drink. He thought about it for a second before ultimately agreeing.

You walked over to the kitchen where your friends were still creating their concoction. Why was it taking forever to make spiked punch? You grew slightly concerned by its contents before ultimately letting them be. 

After grabbing two beers from off the counter, Jisung called out for you.

“Wait, Y/N. Come try this!” He offered, pouring some of the liquid he made into a plastic cup. “Changbin is too drunk.”

You looked at him suspiciously, “Why won't you try it?”

“Bro, I’ll get fucked up after one sip. I’d prefer to let the party start first.” 

That sounded about correct. Agreeing, you walked over to him and took the cup, taking a long sip. You winced as it went down, it was too strong. 

“You need to add more juice. Are you trying to give someone fucking alcohol poisoning?” You gagged at the aftertaste that was left on your tongue.

Jisung laughed at your reaction, “Wait, let me try it actually.” He took your cup back and added another ladle in. Taking a sip, he immediately spat it back. “This tastes like nail polish remover.”

The both of you fell into a fit of laughter, daring each other to take just one more sip. For a moment, Jisung had forgotten that he was in love with you. After all that had happened between you both, he felt like a kid with his best friend again.

He missed this feeling. He missed having you as his best friend.

“Y/N, you would be a horrible waitress, you know?” Minho said walking into the kitchen and interrupting your playtime. “You were supposed to get us drinks like ten years ago.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile still on your face from the laughter you just had. “You are such a drama queen Lino.”

“And stupid. Every time Y/N and Hanji are put in the same room, they are like"—Changbin suddenly clapped his hands—"magnets,” he staggered a chuckle. 

If you were honest, you’d forgotten he was in the room with you guys the entire time. 

Jisung felt his cheeks redden at the sound and refocused his attention on the awful punch he made. He should listen to your advice and add more juice instead of playing around—especially when people were supposed to start coming in now. 

But he was stuck between, "I really want to talk to you,” and "I really need to get over you.”

He internally groaned, cursing himself. He just needed to stop thinking, and let go.

He just loved you so much. He was in love with every single thing about you. Hearing your voice made him feel happy in seconds, and hearing your laugh made him smile no matter how hard he tried not to. When you smiled at him from across the room, his heart went all crazy and he had gotten the familiar butterflies—the ones that guided themselves back into his stomach not so long ago.

And when you finally hugged him before leaving the kitchen and held him in your arms, he didn't care about anything else except you and him. The both of you. You were just so important to him. 

You were his best friend and literally, his everything.

Soon enough, people staggered into the house—some already drunk. It wasn't too far into it that you realized you weren't really a party girl anymore. After the three years, you had been in college, they had just gotten too repetitive to enjoy them anymore.

You looked around the living room, there were a lot of people scattered everywhere. So many different personalities and lives. You see, you never wish to be easily defined. You’d rather float over other people's minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.

But that would be too hard to explain in this complex world.

Sighing, you swallowed the rest of the punch in your cup. Where was Hyunjin? You kept thinking about him, hoping he’d walk in sometime soon but he hadn’t for over an hour now. 

You walked over to the punch, pouring another serving. It also didn't help that you felt like your tolerance had turned out to be better than you expected. You simply just weren't getting drunk and at this moment, you really wanted to.

Chugging down what you had poured, you almost spit it back out when your eyes finally landed on Hyunjin. He came.

When he walked into a room, people were aware. He was esoteric, distinctive, and different. His aura commanded intrigue and people would watch and stare in awe.

You finally saw him. It almost felt like you were drunk and just imagining it all.

Do you go up to him? Maybe he already found people to hang out with? You weren't sure what to do.

Jisung scared you from behind, grabbing ahold of your shoulders. You scowled, hitting him. “Don't fucking scare me like that.”

He brought his hands up in surrender, “Sorry! You just looked like you were zoning out. I couldn't help myself.” Just seconds ago, his eyes had spotted you and he couldn't help but gawk and your beauty when you didn't notice it. 

The dress you wore complimented your body very well.

But until he heard you speak, despite the aggression, it wasn't even about how you looked anymore, it was about who you were. He may meet other beautiful girls, but there was something unforgettable about you. It could be your character, your essence, or your vibe, or it could just be the fact that in a world so superficial, you chose to be yourself. 

You rolled your eyes at Jisung and went back to looking at Hyunjin who stood at the same spot. He looked so fucking pretty it hurt. You wanted to run over and shower him with kisses and tell him how much you missed him. 

And maybe you were starting to finally feel the alcohol hit you because you were so tempted to do so, that you took one step forward before you saw Hyunjin reach out his hand for someone.

You halted your movement and it was almost as if you felt your world come crashing down when you saw that the person who grabbed his hand was the girl from the night at the club, Bora.

In a perfect world, it was smooth, it was bliss, it was peaceful. Overwhelmed with content, Hyunjin would hold your hand and body close endlessly and it would feel so good because you knew just how much he loved you. 

He’d want to learn more and more about you and you’d answer each question because you could never bare to leave him clueless. 

But it never occurred to you that each question was a step closer to the end. You never realized that one day he was going to run out of questions. 

Jisung’s eyes followed your gaze and he sighed. And by the way Hyunjin’s face was filled with contentment as he laughed with Bora now, playing with her hands, he knew you had to be hurt.

You see, you saw the signs but chose to ignore them; the distant look in his eyes lately, and the lack of emotion. It wasn't the same as before when you and Hyunjin both started to see each other in the beginning. The lack of effort he began to give and how your conversations just seemed to end. 

You didn't want to accept the truth that was bluntly in front of your face. What did she have that you didn't? Maybe he was slowly losing interest in you. So much so, it made your heart break.

You weren't hurt because he didn't talk to you, he most likely didn't see you yet. You were hurt because you expected him to. You expected him to feel your presence and just look at you. Smile at you. 

You expected him to be waiting impatiently to see you, just to tell you “Hi”, just like you had been. To tell you that you looked beautiful. That your smile lit up his world.

You expected him to tell you about the funny stories you had missed all weekend, and laugh together. Not leaving until he told you goodbye and made you smile. You were hoping he didn't change, but your expectations made it worse. 

He never looked at you. Never talked to you. Never smiled. Nor laughed. And while you were waiting for him to, you knew he wouldn't. He was too busy with her.

And that's what made you feel worse. Expectations.

This would've been the best time for Jisung to tell you about who Bora was to Hyunjin but something compelled him to stay silent.

You turned around in your shoes, pouring another cup and drinking it within seconds. Jisung’s eyebrows rose in shock as he saw you refilling it yet again. 

“Woah, woah. Slow down.” He attempted to take the cup from you but you finished it before he could. “Just forget about him at least for tonight, Y/N.” 

You ignored him, throwing your cup away in the bin beside him. “Hey Jisung.” His eyes looked at you, waiting for you to continue as he was unsure of where you were headed. You leaned in and brought your lips to his ear, “Do you want to fuck me again?”

The color quickly drained from his face, growing pale. “W-What?”

You weren't in the right state of mind. You just saw the boy you loved with another girl, of course, you weren't thinking straight. 

“Do you?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a small kiss on his jaw. 

Yes. A million times, yes. But not now when your judgment was skewed. Still, he didn't have the heart to say no to you.

The lack of response made you scoff. “Well okay then.” You removed your arms from his neck, adjusting your small dress. “I’ll just find someone else, I guess.”

It was so much easier to act like none of it mattered. To pretend to wear a smile than to confess that his heart was ever so delicately dangling on a tight rope. It could be easily broken, you know? Completely and utterly shattered from losing someone who was never his, to begin with. You just needed to say the right words.

You attempted to walk away, but he held your wrist, not letting you distance yourself further from him. “You’re drunk. Stop it,” he sighed.

Laughing, you shook your head. “But I’m not, Ji. I’m perfectly sober—maybe a little tipsy, if anything.” You pulled your wrist away from his grasp, “I just hate being in love with someone who doesn't want to be with me.”

“That’s not true, he might…”

“Now, you’re just saying things to make me feel better.” You hugged your arms around your torso. “You really wouldn't understand, Sungie.”

How fucking ironic.

All the times you didn't look at him or call him over earlier in the night because you were too busy looking at the front door to see if Hyunjin would walk in. What he felt because of it—Jisung didn't show you. So when he finally came to you, he told himself that he wouldn't: he knew he had no right to feel it. 

But still, it didn't mean he didn't.

He hated how he told himself that he was giving up on you and yet years later, he was here, still trying. Because nothing made him happier and nothing made him sadder than you.

Every time you appeared, his heart grew a little too big and broke a little more.

His eyebrows rose, "So, that’s what you really think?" You bit on the inside of your cheek, not answering him. "You are probably the most interesting girl I've ever met.” 

It was the nicest way he could possibly call you the dumbest girl he’d ever met.

You didn't understand. You didn't see how he looked at you, how he fell for you every time you smiled, whenever he looked at you, he had to think about something else because all he wanted to do was kiss you. You didn't understand how whenever you were with Hyunjin, it literally killed him because he didn't love you like he loved you.

You loved Hyunjin more than he would ever know, and Jisung loved you more than he would ever show. What a tragedy.

Jisung grabbed your hand, guiding you toward the bathroom. At this point, he needed to be alone with you. You were driving him insane and if he was being sincere, he didn't seem to care anymore.

He shut the door and his eyes focused on you.

Everything around you suddenly smelled like him, like it belonged to him—like he was poured into the bottle you were drowning in. 

You didn't even realize that you were leaning into him, inhaling the scent of his neck until you found his hands were around your waist, and he said, "You," and he whispered it, he pressed the word into your skin before he hesitated. 

Then again, softer.

His chest, heaving harder this time. His words, almost gasping this time. "You destroy me."

At the time, you didn't know what he meant. You were too engrossed by the stillness around you. His voice in your ear... it did interesting things to you. It curved your back and parted your lips. You felt lazy and feline.

You saw Jisung get closer, and you closed your eyes, opening them to find him mere inches away. You suck in a breath as he cupped your face, bringing you closer still. In a matter of seconds, his lips touched yours, and your eyes close once more. 

His lips continue their exploration, gently at first, and then unyieldingly hard. You opened for him and his tongue snaked its way inside your mouth. His hands move from your face to your lower back as he pulled you toward him, closing whatever space was left between you. 

A few moments later, he broke the kiss, whispering something in your ear that sounded like nonsense. You pulled him even closer, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and kissed him as hard as you could. Your fingers were already attempting to release the button on his jeans. 

Jisung tasted like peppermint and smelled like cinnamon and gardenias. His arms were wrapped around you, his lips soft, almost sweet against your skin. There was an electric charge between you both that you hadn't anticipated.

Your head was spinning.

His lips were on your neck, tasting you, and you forced yourself to think straight. To force yourself to understand the issue of this situation. It was wrong, you knew it. But you didn't know how to reconcile the confusion in your mind, your hesitant repulsion, your inexplicable chemical reaction to his lips. 

You needed to feel him. Now.

Jisung lifted you by the waist, hoisting you up onto the edge of the sink, his hands cupping your rear, forcing your legs to wrap around him. He didn't realize that he had given you the perfect angle to press yourself against him.

"Do you want me to leave?" Jisung’s lips were at your ear when he spoke. He was breathing harder now and you felt his heart pound against you.

"No," you said too quickly. "No."

He leaned back, just a little. "Tell me what you want then," he said desperately. "Tell me what to do," he said, "and I'll do it."

What you were both doing—it wasn't normal. 

You could choose to look away if you wanted to, but you didn't. Your chest rose and fell as your breathing became labored. And suddenly your clothes felt far too tight on your skin. 

The moment he turned his head to lock eyes with yours, you knew what you both were about to do.

He lifted his right hand to move a strand of hair that had become stuck to your forehead and placed it behind your ear.

Your mouth went dry. "I—I don't know what I'm doing.”

"Anything you do will be enough."

You tried to remember how to speak, but you were too focused on the fingers he was running down your thighs to form sentences. There's something about the absolute darkness, about not being able to see what was happening that made you drunk, not with the liquor, but with a delicious dizziness. 

Sometimes he’d look at you and you’d look at him and just know. Both of your eyes spoke more than your mouths ever did. Some of your glances said, "I want you right now" and he said, "It's okay, I'm here."

And that was all you managed to say.

He leaned his forehead against yours and lightly scoffed knowing that was far from the truth. "You know," he said. "It's so hard for me to stop myself." His words tingled on your skin.

You allowed your hands to slip under his shirt. You traced the perfectly sculpted lines of his body. He was nothing but lean muscle. "You don't have to," you told him. His fingers were at the dip right below your hip bone, teasing the small piece of fabric that kept you halfway decent

Surely, he had to.

It was hard for him that you weren't together. He never knew where the lines were. He wanted to cross them all the time. You’d kissed and touched, but then you’d both go back to being just friends and it was confusing.

He wanted to feel your wet core swallow his fingers whole. He wanted to give you everything you wanted tonight. 

Your hands landed flat above his collarbones, fingers curling into his shirt. He kept one hand on your waist and moved the other across your jaw. Still, he didn't bring his mouth down on yours. His eyes shifted between your own half-closed eyelids and then focused in on your lips—which pouted in response.

"You've got to stop looking at me like that." He brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes were fully closed. He groaned, "Don't do that either."

Your voice was breathier than you’d heard before. "Do what?" 

"Act like you want my touch that much."

“But I do.”

He brushed your lip again, longer this time, from one corner to the other. You reeled from it, but you held still so he wouldn't pull away. You didn't want him to stop.

“No, you don't.”

Your tongue found the pad of his thumb. Rough and salty. Possessing by whatever force there was between you both, you nipped his thumb gently as you looked up at him. Ask him to stay, and he would. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered in his ear. "Stay.” 

This was his cue to kiss you again, much more softly this time around. To wrap his fingers in your hair and later enclose them around your neck. Gently, but just hard enough to feel your pulse. The quiet beat, beating. 

You wouldn't always be this vulnerable, this open. Right now your trust was in the palm of his hand. This was his cue to pull you closer. He placed a gentle thumb on your bottom lip and you breathed out. 

"Stay, stay, stay," you said as you rubbed yourself against his leg. 

He loved you. You: it's such a simple word. How did a three-letter word make him think of three thousand different things? Your smile, your laugh, your voice. The tingles that were sent up his spine when you touched him. His heart skipped a beat when you looked at him. You, the girl who made him happy.

His eyes drifted down to yours, and it was over. His lips caught yours in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Now, there was nothing gentle about it. You felt the sink creak as you shifted, him pressing you against it.

Every thought in your head exploded to a pure, pounding white, and you felt the dark curl of desire begin to twist inside you, bending all your rules, snapping that last trembling bit of restraint. 

It was just like it had been before you slid your hands under his shirt to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise that set every inch of your skin on fire.

To him, you were an electrical storm dazzling with light and intensity and he would gladly stand like a fool, arm outstretched, just to be struck down by you.

So he told you he would stay. He said: "Okay."

Jisung watched you today. 

As you turned through the pages of the book, you cried. 

You looked beautiful as he watched the different stages of your emotions. And one day he wanted to make you feel all those things. 

Emotions were a beautiful thing and he wanted to thank you for showing them. When he saw you cry, he had to fight the urge to run toward you and hold you. It was in his natural instinct to do so, but he didn't want to ruin it. Ruin how beautiful your eyes were as they shed a tear over the story you lived, over a character you loved. 

He looked at a tree wistfully, trying to keep his mind busy away from you. But even the simplest thing as a tree, allowed memories to flow in, full force. 

He remembered when he was about fourteen he ran away from home for the first time. The reasoning was stupid, probably over a small argument between his parents—but all Jisung remembered was that he didn't know where to go. 

So he came and sat under a sycamore tree, the peculiar sun beaming down on him.

It turned out that he wasn't the only one with that idea.

Under the sycamore tree, he found you reading, your hair was messily thrown into a ponytail, unaware of his presence just yet. He wanted to run up to you and spill whatever it was inside his busy mind, but you looked too peaceful and he didn't want to ruin it. 

So instead, under the sycamore tree, he watched the stars and talked about the meaning of life with someone he truly cared about. Soon enough he would end up ranting to you, you’d listen, and he’d thank you for that.

Under the sycamore tree, he looked at you, his best friend who he had never really given a second thought to, and felt his heart turn. You began to be everything he had wanted. He watched the sun set on the most beautiful pair of eyes he had probably ever seen.

Have you ever seen your own eyes? They were rich and bright, he could get lost in them. But on that particular night, when the leaves were falling all around you, your eyes were just pure, radiant gold. He got lost in the shadows of those eyes for the first time.

Your eyes were his favorite, you know?

He shook that memory away.

As your watery eyes scanned the page, you laughed and then smiled. The type of smile that started off from the side of your face and then stretched out entirely. At that moment, he knew that he had to have you. 

And he guessed he wouldn't stop until he could wake up to that smile. 

If he was being honest, he always thought he'd be alone. Surely the two of you were going to be best friends forever, but he knew that you’d find someone who really loved you the way you wanted to be loved. And deep down he knew he was never a part of that equation. 

That's how he lived ever since he chose to forget, and to be honest he liked it until he saw you. Until he really saw you. 

When he was younger, he wasn't afraid of anything. But then, everything changed. Suddenly he started to think that, he wanted to be better—do better. For the first time, the idea of being alone began to scare him. It was on his mind and he never felt that kind of feeling—until he was almost paralyzed.

Until he was looking at the sunset, with you by his side, your head on his shoulder. You both watched all the colors melt and everything seemed calm at that moment.

And he felt like he could actually breathe. The stars started to appear and he could feel it in his soul. 

He felt alive.

Now, it was until he heard the soft sound of your laughter. How your cheeks turned rosy pink as you blushed over a character. And until he saw your emotions, how they all came from that one book. 

The Silence Between Two Special Songs.

He remembered saying how much he hated that book before… and suddenly you changed him. 

Had you ever felt that way? Have you ever had your entire perspective of something change so quickly because of a person? Of course, you had.

He didn't want to be alone anymore. Being alone seemed even more lonely. He just wanted you. So today, you fell in love with a book and he fell in love with you falling for a book. 

And it was bad because he couldn't get you out of his mind for the rest of the day. 

He’d focus on the sounds of the floorboard creaking as you did whatever you needed to do in your room. He’d hear your muffled laughter and conversations you had on your phone, even though he tried his best to drown it out.

Jisung was so hyperaware around you that it was driving him crazy. Everything about you was a reminder. His bed, his sheets, the movies he saw, the music he listened to—quite literally everything you had shared together was tainted with the memory of you.

It was all too much for him, especially with a song due in a couple of days. He needed to get his work done but you were just so distracting, and you didn't even know it. 

This resulted in him making his way over to his best friend’s apartment. They’d be home and working on what he needed to be doing too, so this was the only plausible option. 

Chan opened the front door wide enough to let him in, “Hey Ji.”

“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight, I just need a space to work tonight peacefully. My apartment was just so loud I couldn't think straight.” Jisung rambled. 

It was obvious by the way color came back to his face that he finally took a breath—one he had been holding in all fucking day. 

Aside from Minho, Chan was also a quick study, able to know when things just weren't okay. In his nature, he was a problem solver and always wanted to be of help, offering the best solutions. 

But with this came along with being aware and respectful of boundaries, which was why he stopped himself from questioning his obviously frantic friend.

He watched as Jisung set his bag down on the couch, unsure of how to correctly approach the situation. “Do you want to watch something before we work? Maybe a movie? Bin suggested this short film that he watched earlier today was good. We can watch that, yeah?” 

Chan grabbed the disc from the coffee table. It’d be best to get whatever it was off Jisung’s mind, he thought.

Jisung wanted to say no so he could just finish the song that was due. But if he was being honest with himself, his mind was not in the correct place. So he plopped down onto the couch, complying.

Luckily the movie lasted an hour. Changbin had come home midway, bearing some chicken and beer that Chan texted him privately about to bring. The sinister music played as the movie ended, and white credits rolled down the screen.

“And that my boys, is why falling in love with someone is a no-go.” Changbin crossed his arms together. 

Chan cleared his throat, sipping on his can of beer. “Actually, love is a pretty nice thing.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, knowing where this was headed. “Chan just because you’re dating my sister doesn't mean this doesn't apply to you too.”

“So you want me to break your sister’s heart, Binnie?”

“You can try all you want.” Changbin waved off, although he knew his friend wouldn't do it. And he was right, Chan would never break her heart. He loved her so much that it consumed him. 

They wouldn't know yet, but Jisung was all too familiar with that feeling. He bitterly laughed, “Changbin, come back to us when you fall in love with someone.”

It was comical, the way Changbin laughed from his side of the couch. “And what do you know about love, Jisung? The last girl you dated was during our first year and you got the biggest ick after.”

Jisung waited a few moments before dropping his shoulders. What did he know about love, he wondered. Despite his only relationship lasting a couple of months, he could confidently say that he never even thought about the idea of love with them.

It wasn't that he was too young, he already felt love way before that. And now, it kind of made sense to him. It seemed as though the category of love had always been tucked away safely for you, and only you.

He grabbed the remote, pausing the movie that ran through its credits. "I guess when you love someone, they become a part of who you are. They're in everything you do. They're in the air you breathe and the water you drink and the blood in your veins.” 

He thought about you. You became more deep and meaningful. And when he was with you, that was probably the highlight of his day, just sitting next to you in silence made him happy. 

Surely that was when it was supposed to hit him—that he was supposed to realize that he might love you more than a friend because he couldn't get rid of the knot in his heart that he constantly felt around you.

Now, every touch, every hug, became so precious to him, because he finally understood what was happening to him. So no, he wasn't too young to know about love. She just wasn't you.

Jisung continued to speak, “Their touch stays on your skin and their voice stays in your ears and their thoughts stay in your mind. You know their dreams because their nightmares pierce your heart and their good dreams are your dreams too.” He had a sad smile as he reminisced on the dreams he had that were so vivid. “And I guess, although they don't think they're perfect, you know their flaws, the deep-down truth of them, and the shadows of all their secrets, and they are perfect to you; in fact, you love them more for it. You want them. You want-”

He broke it off then, realizing his friends were looking at him.

"You want what?" Changbin’s looked at him with enormous eyes.

"Nothing," Jisung said. "I'm just talking." And he shut off the TV and picked up the empty boxes and cans of beer. "I'm going to throw these away," he said, and left.

Changbin looked over at Chan who was still in the midst of attempting to process what just happened. "When he falls in love, it's going to be like…wow."

"Of course, then we'll probably never see him again," said Chan, looking after his friend from afar, who was in the kitchen tying the trash bag closed. "Lucky girl, whoever she'll be."

It was nearly midnight by the time the boys began to finally work on their music. Of course soon after, much to their demise, Changbin made an excuse to grab something from his room and ended up passing out on his bed.

The remaining two decided against waking him up as he probably would’ve been groggy and of no help at all. Writing songs was something that they had all been used to for years but having the experience never made it any easier. 

“I never knew you knew so much about love, Hanji.” Chan abruptly stated, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He needed to give his mind a break or else it would've overclocked.

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, flustered by the sudden conversation. “Oh,” he shrugged. “I don't know that much.”

His friend staggered a laugh, unable to believe him after what he heard earlier. “You sure? You seemed to take the words right out of my mouth if I'm being honest.”

He rolled his eyes playfully now, “I suppose I watch a lot of dramas.”

“I mean, it starts out with friendship it always does. But then it starts to bloom into something more, right?” Chan continued disregarding his friend’s excuse. It caused Jisung to raise his eyebrows, unsure of where Chan was headed. “At first, it’s always pointless banter and small talk, but slowly it progresses into long conversations about your past, and what you want for the future.”  

He paused waiting for Jisung to respond, but he didn't.

Chan hummed, “Well, that was the case with me. I thought that maybe it was the same in the dramas…” He picked up his phone to reply back to his girlfriend.

Jisung was hesitant in what he was about to admit. He wasn't sure if this was wise of him, quite frankly, he was not confident in how it will play out.

 Nonetheless, he emitted a long, deep, audible breath, “I slept with Y/N.”

“Don't you always?” Chan was unbothered, still typing away.

“No, I slept with her.” Jisung reiterated it, slowly.

He looked up from his phone, frozen. “Wait, what?”

Jisung put his hands on his head. His brain felt like it was going to explode. “I fucked up. I know. But—”

“Jisung, you need to explain what you just said. You had sex with Y/N?” Chan sat up, adamant in trying to understand where this was coming from. There was no way he was lying, it was evident by the way he was acting. But sex? It was far from what he had expected.

The boy sighed, “Twice. We had sex twice.”

“Fuck Ji.” Chan stood up, his mouth covered by his hand. 

“I know but I think we could’ve had something real,” Jisung confessed. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I think she could’ve loved me.” His world began to spin and spin. “She meant a lot to me. Every smile, every glance from across a room, every time she made me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe meant a lot to me,” he said and smiled, but his eyes were in the midst of collecting a few tears.

Chan bent down where Jisung sat, still trying to grasp the information he was told. He was aware of his friend's crackling emotions. “Do you guys like each other? Where did all of this suddenly come from?”

He bitterly chuckled, “She doesn't like me.”

You always seemed too good for Jisung, and that had nothing to do with how you looked. You always put three sugars in your coffee because you couldn’t stand the bitter taste alone and you often smelled like lavender because once you read somewhere that lavender made people happier, and you liked to see the people around you smile.

“Then how di-”

Jisung shook his head, not wanting to stop expressing the truth despite it all. “She’s in love with Hyunjin.” His voice curdled into jealousy.

Chan sighed at the news. But wasn't Hyunjin with Bora? He was so confused but Jisung had become a fragile vase and he was scared of breaking him by asking too many questions. 

“The worst part is, I think I could still have kissed her all day though,” Jisung continued quietly. “I could have swept back the loose strands of hair from her eyes and spent the morning just like that.” He quickly wiped his eyes, “And maybe it was because there was too much sadness in her heart, but she kissed like she needed to be kissed—like she was aching all over.”

One could see it in Jisung’s eyes. you both weren't quite friends anymore. You both had crossed such a big boundary. The way he smiled with you? Friends didn't smile like that. The way he put his hand on your back? Friends didn't touch each other like that. The way his face lit up when you spoke? Friends didn't look at each other like that. The way his voice changed when he said your name? Friends didn't talk like that. 

Slowly, everything started to make sense to his friend.

“You love her, don't you?”

"For me, it was never a case of loving her. I’ve loved her my entire fucking life and I have never stopped,” Jisung exhaled, running a hand down his face. “I tried to let her go before—I told myself to think about everything my feelings for her had done to hurt me, but all I can think about was my smile in the mornings and my laughs late at night.”

He let out a broken whisper, continuing. “She was the reason for that, she made my days better. Sure, people have bad days but in the end, the good always outweighed them.” He pulled onto the drawstring of his hoodie gently, “I guess what I'm trying to say is that she was my good and everything in between.”

In Jisung’s pitiful mind, no matter how much he knew you were a bad idea, he couldn't completely give up on you. In the back of his mind, he believed that this was his second chance to do it all over again… but correctly. Correct enough to the point where you would be his.

It could be six a.m. and all he’d want to do is lay next to you with your hands locked together, and legs intertwined. He’d want your face buried in his neck, and he’d want to listen to your breathing. 

He’d want you to wake up and tell him, "I'm so tired" because he’d want to whisper, "Go back to sleep" and he’d want to hold you tighter when you did.

He’d want to lie in bed alone with you, in the comforting quiet of the early morning hours, and maybe write a song in his dreams while you both slept. 

He wanted to be simple with you, and he wanted to be whatever you need him to be. Because it was real for him. 

He didn't know what it was for you. But for him, it was real. Everything meant more than it should have. So much that he was willing to be with you forever. And that's what hurt the most.

He looked at you with what ifs and could haves and hearts full of regret.

“Back in high school, I tried to write a song about her,” Jisung admitted.

Chan continued to be weary of what he said. He needed to make sure that it wouldn't end up being the wrong thing. “Tried? You mean you finished it but it wasn't good enough?” And although he had so many questions, the best thing he could do right there was to listen to the boy.

“No, I didn't even finish it. I stopped writing it because I was wrong.” He scoffed. “I was so completely wrong about it all.”

You see, Jisung thought he could make it beautiful. He thought he could tear himself apart and make a mosaic out of the pieces. He thought the heartbreak was temporary, that the words could be beautiful enough to show just how liberating love could be despite the pain. He thought he could have roses without thorns.

There was just so much Jisung could say to his friend that he could've spent hours talking about it. It wasn't wise for him to do so, his emotions were all over the place and he needed to calm down.

He let out a breath, "I don't know.” He slumped over against the couch, his arm resting against his side. "Is this a mistake?" 

It took Chan a few moments to respond. "Of course it is,” he hummed. Jisung felt his heart drop at his answer. “You’re getting involved with your best friend, don't look too shocked... But, who knows?” 

Chan was trying his best to find the right thing to say to him and the boy waited to take in every word. 

"Who knows if something good will happen—or something worse. All I'm trying to say is that it's okay if you don't know what to feel or if you don't know what you want. Sometimes it's okay to not want something you worked so hard on getting after realizing it wasn't what you thought it was.” Chan clarified.

Jisung sighed, “I’m just scared.”

"It’s okay to be scared. You can change your mind or make however mistakes you want. It's your life and you don't need validation from anyone other than you." Chan patted his thigh, gently, giving him a soft smile. "But I just want you to know that it’s not selfish to love yourself, to take care of yourself, and make your happiness a priority." 

Jisung’s body began to heat up, his friend was right. 

It was four in the morning when he answered your text. He was sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket Chan had given him. After his conversation with him, Jisung was left with a much more sensible head than the one he came with. 

His eyes felt heavy and he just wanted slumber to come up and whisk him away. 

It was annoying though, every time he closed his eyes, he still thought of you. Everything was still fresh and maybe he needed time to figure things out more. 

Many years later and he still stayed up at night, your smile and laughter etched in his mind, wondering where you were and what you were doing, he’d smile to himself thinking of the memories with you. His heart yearned for you, to hold you close to him right now. 

You replied right as he was falling asleep. He sighed and read your message. 

you: you're up? 

The only people actually up this late were either heartbroken or in love. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and wrote back. 

jisung: yes. need to talk?

And you did. The both of you texted for what felt like hours and soon enough he could see the sky beginning to lighten from the living room window. 

He hugged the blanket tighter to his chest. When was he going to ever listen to something other than his heart? Because he loved you and he almost laughed at the thought of ever stopping.

It wasn't until five a.m. he realized that you were fast asleep and he wasn't. He was right back to where he was, every time. It seemed as though he had taken one step forward and two steps back.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love you like this again. And he’d kept trying to make his love for you go away, he swore. But how do you kill a feeling? 

You still lived in the silence between his thoughts.

The only people up this late were the heartbroken and in love. And pathetically so, he was both.

let me know your thoughts about this chapter! i’m interested to hear your opinions :) stay healthy <3

masterlist

taglist: (pls lmk if i missed you or if ur interested!)

@hyynee @keilykat @chxrry-holland @sikebishes @soobin-chois @drhsthl​ @ooshanaya @rindomo @chxrry-chris

[cuddlepilefics]

Jiung (P1H) Vertigo (short)

Jiung could tell it wouldn’t be his day the second he woke up that morning. His head felt heavy, a tension headache spreading up from the back of his neck. Lifting his head off the pillow seemed so incredibly difficult, he wasn’t sure if it was really worth it. Maybe if he just stayed very still, Keeho wouldn’t notice him and the others would just leave without him. Jiung knew that it was wishful thinking but he didn’t think he’d have the energy to face the day ahead.

Just as he had expected, Keeho didn’t miss him and was there to remind him he’d be running late if he didn’t get up very soon. Apparently, everyone else was already dressed, some having breakfast while others were brushing their teeth. Now that he thought about it, he had already procrastinated getting up for a while. How was he not running late yet?

As soon as Jiung sat up, he was hit by an intense wave of vertigo, that almost knocked him off his bed. He sat still for a moment, the uncontrollable spinning slowing down as long as he didn’t move. When he did convince himself to get up, he did so cautiously and tried his best not to move his head too much for the fear of setting his vertigo in motion again. No, he was most definitely not feeling well but he also wasn’t really sick, so there was no reason for him to mention it to the other members. Besides, why mention it if he wasn’t going to miss any schedule anyways? Just to worry them?

“Finally!”, Keeho exclaimed exasperatedly when Jiung shuffled out to the kitchen to grab a bite for breakfast though he couldn’t really find his appetite. That was also why he only grabbed an apple before plopping down in his seat. Taeyang gave him a concerned look, quietly humming: “You feeling alright today?” Giving a small nod, which Jiung instantly regretted, he breathed: “Tension headache again. Might have slept in an odd position.” – “Sorry to hear”, the oldest smiled sympathetically. He knew how his friend’s neck could get so incredibly tense and sore, that he suffered from intense headaches, which could occasionally leave him unable to focus.

While Jiung got ready to leave, Taeyang prepared some coffee for him and slipped the box of painkillers into his bag. He hadn’t expected the younger to stumble out of the bathroom like that. Luckily, Intak had been standing close by and managed to catch Jiung’s arm, helping him regain his balance. “Are you okay, hyung”, the rapper frowned, hesitant to let go. Not daring to move his head, Jiung mumbled: “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” – “I don’t think you are”, Taeyang sighed softly as he made his way over and took the other’s hand, “Let’s sit down for a moment.”

Taeyang guided Jiung to the couch and made him sit before feeling his forehead. “I’m not sick”, the younger argued but his voice sounded tired. He was tired. The effort of sitting upright drained his energy fast. Burying his face in his head, he muttered: “It’s one of the worse ones. My equilibrium is all messed up and it feels like the floor is moving.” – “Then why didn’t you speak up?”, Taeyang whispered, waving Keeho over to them, “We have a full day of dance practice. There’s no way you can participate in that.”

Jiung couldn’t handle the additional attention when Keeho joined them, tears burning his eyes. Seeing the boy on the verge of tears, the leader calmly took a seat next to him and wrapped his arm around the other’s shoulders. Keeho’s brows furrowed as he realized how stiff Jiung was, so he breathed: “What’s going on, hm? You haven’t been acting like yourself at all this morning.” The leader’s calm and understanding tone was all it took for Jiung to break down. Soothingly rubbing the boy’s back, Keeho looked at Taeyang for an explanation.

“His neck is troubling him”, the oldest explained softly, “Already woke up with a tension headache and vertigo.” – “That’s why you had such a hard time getting up”, Keeho realized, only getting a suppressed sob in reply, “Why didn’t you say anything?” – “I’m not sick”, Jiung choked out, “There’s no reason for me to miss any schedule.” Gently kneading the tight muscles at the back of the younger’s neck, Keeho disagreed: “You might not be sick but you’re obviously unwell. Your vertigo can put you and anyone in close proximity at risk of injury if you try to dance. That’d justify sitting out, don’t you think?” – “But it happens frequently and I’m always fine”, Jiung argued, his voice breaking. Taking the boy’s hands into his own, Taeyang hummed: “That maybe true but you don’t look like you have the energy to power through it today. Maybe it’s worse than usual or maybe you’re already exhausted from the previous days of practice. You need some rest. The more you push yourself, the worse it gets.”

It was true, Jiung was exhausted but so was everyone else. Keeho was ready to call him in sick, so why couldn’t he accept the offer to stay in bed? “How about this”, Taeyang proposed, “A hot shower usually helps at least little, so why don’t  you take one and see if it eases the tension. You can lay down with a heating pad afterwards and get some more rest. We’ll keep texting and if you feel better by lunchtime, someone will come and collect you to join the second half of our practice? You wouldn’t miss a whole day of schedule and might even feel well enough to enjoy yourself later.” – “I agree with him on this”, Keeho joined, running his hand up and down Jiung’s back, “I don’t think you’d get anything out of practicing in your current condition, so why force yourself through the trouble? Take care of yourself first and work second.”

Jiung let his hyungs talk into staying back to take a hot shower and a nap. They promised though that they’d respect his decision, should he want to join them for practice later that day but they would most definitely be watching him justa little closer than usual to make sure he was okay.

[weepingfromacedartree]

Ten Milestones (Interlude): Voicemails

Hi friends!

Another interlude chapter is ready for ya. It's quite different than our standard chapters, so... enjoy :)

Two quick notes:

1. This interlude spans the first five-ish years of Colin’s travels abroad. It starts after the events of Chapter 5 and will lead directly into next chapter.

2. Anytime “…” appears between paragraphs, it’s to indicate that the speaker is pausing for a few seconds.

June 9th, 2015 - 3:23 PM

To: colin ✈️

From: pen ✨✨

Hey! I wanted to call and make sure you landed safely. But I, uh —

[Laughter.]

I think I got the timing wrong. I think you’re still in the air. So just call me back whenever you do land.

…

I still can’t believe you’re really doing this. I mean —

[Nervous laughter.]

Obviously, I can believe it. I just — I can’t wait to hear all about it. 

Bye, Colin. 

~~~~~~~~~~

June 29th, 2015 - 7:07 AM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. I just emailed you a few pictures, but um —

[Laughter.]

Did you know there are like a million stray cats roaming around Athens? I swear, there’s at least one on every corner, popping his head out looking for food or attention. But I was just going for a run and — I swear to god — I saw the reincarnation of Mr. Whiskers pissing on an olive tree. This tiny grey fur ball looked up at me and —

…

Wait. Is Mr. Whiskers dead? He would be like twelve now, right? I —

…

Well… In the case that he’s still alive, I think I just saw his long lost Greek cousin. Professor Whiskers, maybe.

[Laughter.]

Alright, Pen. Talk soon. 

~~~~~~~~~~

August 27th, 2015 - 2:13 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. Just saw your text. Yes, I landed safely. Yes, Madrid is beautiful. No, I have yet to try the paella — but I promise you’ll be the first to receive my review. 

[Laughter.]

I’ll call you later once I get a bit more settled. Bye Pen. 

~~~~~~~~~~

October 18th, 2015 - 9:20 PM

To: colin ✈️

From: pen ✨✨

Hey. I just finished reading over the Italy piece. It was good. Like, really good… But perhaps one too many cheese puns? 

…

Anyway… Call me back when you have the chance. You still haven’t told me about Caffè Florian. [Laughter.] Do they even stock enough sugar for your tea? 

…

Okay, well… Goodnight Colin. 

~~~~~~~~~~

November 23rd, 2015 - 7:39 AM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. 

Sorry. I know it’s early. But I also know today is gonna be shit so, uh…

…

Call me later, if you can. 

~~~~~~~~~~

December 16th, 2015 - 10:01 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. I’m calling from Paris and —

I don’t know why I said that. [Laughter.] Obviously you know I’m in Paris. But, I — I was just watching the tower light up and I had a sudden memory of you telling me you wanted to come here once and I…

…

I could be misremembering. [Faint laughter.] It was a while ago, I think. But I think you’d like it here. I’ll tell you all about it at that surprise Welcome Home/Birthday/Christmas Eve Party that I know absolutely nothing about. 

Night, Pen. See you soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

February 14th, 2016 - 9:27 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. I hate to admit it, but I am only just now realising that time zones exist and that if it’s 9:30 in New York, it’s…

…

Shit. 2:30 in London.

I apologise for ringing you in the middle of the night —

Actually — no I don’t. If I recall correctly, you’re up writing or reading or procrastinating until at least 3 AM every night anyway. Please call me back ASAP with your own apology for dodging this very important phone call. 

~~~~~~~~~~

April 7th, 2016 - 8:08 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. I’m on the train heading into Chicago. My computer just died, so I apologise in advance for the stream of consciousness bullshit I’m about to leave for you in this message. But, um…

There’s something about being on this train that has me thinking about travel and distance and —

Good god, this already sounds corny. Sorry. Bear with me a moment. 

…

It wasn’t until I landed in New York that I realised just how far away from home I was. I looked it up, and the city was about five and a half thousand kilometres away from London. I mean — god. I remember being at Eton and thinking 35 kilometres was an insane distance. 

In January, New York was the furthest place I had ever been from home. Then I went to Toronto, and that became the furthest place I had ever been from home. Now I’m heading into Chicago and —

I don’t know. There’s something about being on a train that’s making me hyper-aware of just how fast I’m hurdling forward. How, every second, I’m travelling even further and further away from the pinpoint where I’ll always measure my distances from. I —

[Tired laughter.]

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, honestly. Nonetheless, thank you for lending me your future ear — assuming you actually made it this far. I —

…

Oh — I see the city up ahead. Once I get to my hotel, perhaps I can try to turn this bullshit into something a bit less corny. 

I’ll call you tomorrow. Night, Pen. 

~~~~~~~~~~

June 6th, 2016 - 6:15 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. 

Guess who’s flight just took off without him? I know — shocking, coming from such an experienced traveller such as myself. But my connecting flight was delayed so I really can’t take any of the blame.

…

Anyway… I’m stuck in Terminal E of Logan International, where I’ll likely be spending the next several hours dying from boredom and eating as many bags of crisps as I can get my hands on. If you aren’t too busy, maybe you can call me back and help with the boredom bit. 

Talk soon. 

~~~~~~~~~~

August 7th, 2016 - 12:49 PM

To: colin ✈️

From: pen ✨✨

Hi! I was just looking at your pictures from Cyprus and I —

[Distant clap of thunder.]

Oh. [Laughter.] I was wondering what it’s like to be in beautiful, sunny weather in the middle of the summer. Must be devastating. 

~~~~~~~~~~

September 21st, 2016 - 8:30 AM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. I was just reading back your notes on my piece and I’m a little confused about the last one. 

What the fuck does “too many food puns” mean? The only reason I came to Hungary was to capitalise on its pun potential. 

Please call me back ASAP so we can get this sorted.

~~~~~~~~~~

December 24th, 2016 - 12:02 AM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. 

Sorry, I know it’s late. But I’m also waiting around doing absolutely nothing, so I thought I would check in. 

I’m still in Sweden. But we’ll, uh — we’ll probably take off in the morning once the snow lets up. I —

…

I can’t believe it’s been six months since I’ve seen you. Since I’ve seen anyone at home. I’m a little worried that I’ll get home tomorrow and find that Greg now towers over me. Hyacinth called me last week just to complain about his latest growth spurt, so…

… 

Oh shit. Sorry — I knew it was late, but I didn’t realise it's already midnight. 

Merry Christmas Eve, then. I suppose it’s still technically the 23rd in London — but I suppose that doesn’t matter much when it comes to voicemails. 

I feel like there’s another commemoration on this date that I’m forgetting. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but it’s so late and I’m just so bloody tired…

…

Oh well. It’ll come back to me. 

Night, Pen. See you soon.  

~~~~~~~~~~

May 3rd, 2017 - 11:50 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. Sorry. I didn’t realise how late it was. I —

…

Did you know that you can’t sink in the Dead Sea? The water is so dense with salt that your body will just pop up if you try to go under. You could try your absolute hardest to sink to the bottom, and it just wouldn’t let you. 

I think there’s a metaphor in there somewhere. But it’s also very late and I just spent half the night staring at a Word doc and I’m starting to lose my ability to process complex thought. 

…

Fuck it. I’m sending you the first draft now. It’s shit, but if you’re not too busy tomorrow, maybe you can send me your thoughts. And prayers.

…

Alright. Night Pen. 

~~~~~~~~~~

August 24th, 2017 - 10:17 PM

To: colin ✈️

From: pen ✨✨

Hey! Um… 

Daphne wanted me to call and remind you all not to get the groom too drunk the night before his wedding. Fair warning: if you don’t call me back within five minutes to confirm that Simon is still standing upright, she’s prepared to send Eloise in to break up the party. 

~~~~~~~~~~

October 10th, 2017 - 7:54 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. Just calling ‘cause I wanted to ask if you’ve ever tried pickle soup. It sounds kind of strange but —

[Slurp.]

Good god. It’s bloody delicious. Absolutely recommend. 

[Slurp.]

Talk soon. 

~~~~~~~~~~

December 31st, 2017 - 10:58 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey, Pen. At the risk of sounding extremely needy… 

You’re still coming tonight, right? God knows who invited her, but Cressida Cowper is here and she keeps handing me tequila shots and I really don’t —

…

Oh shit! There you a—

~~~~~~~~~~

January 19th, 2018 - 2:30 PM

To: colin ✈️

From: pen ✨✨

Hi! Just wanted to call and see how Sydney’s treating you so far. Is it weird to be experiencing summer in the middle of January? 

[Laughter.] 

Anyway… Call me back when you have the chance. 

~~~~~~~~~~

April 20th, 2018 - 5:58 PM

To: pen ✨✨

From: colin ✈️

Hey! Good news — the baby’s here! In worse, but also extremely funny news…

Apparently El walked in while Daphne was pushing. Mum said her face literally went white before doubling over onto the floor. I —

…

Actually, I should probably go and check on her. I think they’re treating her for a concussion as we speak. 

See you soon. 

~~~~~~~~~~

May 24th, 2018 - 4:44 PM

To: colin ✈️

From: pen ✨✨

Hey! Sorry — can you call me back when you have the chance? I know we’re supposed to get lunch tomorrow, but Danbury just called and asked if I could come in tomorrow about the columnist position and I know we already had to postpone, but I’m worried I —

[Sigh.]

Sorry. 

[Nervous laughter.] 

I’m rambling. Call me back so we can discuss.

~~~~~~~~~~

June 25th, 2018 - 6:21 PM

To: pen 💛 

From: colin 🤡

Hey, Pen. Just wanted to call and see how your first day on the job was. And, of course, to complain about having to travel by myself again. I almost forgot how bloody boring these layovers can be without someone there to complain about them with. 

[Faint laughter.] 

In person, I mean. 

…

Anyway, call me when you’re free. I can’t wait to, uh — 

[Cough.]

To hear about your day. Talk soon. 

~~~~~~~~~~

August 22nd, 2018 - 9:09 PM

To: pen 💛 

From: colin 🤡

Hey, Pen. Just calling because, uh — 

Because I wanted to say hi, really. 

…

Venice is good. It’s quite nice, this time of year. The weather’s starting to cool a bit. The water is calm. The food is the best in the world — but that’s not really time sensitive. 

…

I really cannot stress this enough. I believe it to be a great tragedy that you have yet to eat real Italian pasta. I know you’re extremely busy with work, but if you happen to have a free weekend over the next few weeks, the door is always open. 

…

Alright. Night, Pen.

~~~~~~~~~~

September 21st, 2018 - 11:51 PM

To: pen 💛 

From: colin 🤡

Hey, Pen. Sorry for the late call. But I, uh —

[Faint laughter.]

I forgot how warm it is in Greece this time of year. I’m currently sitting by a river at midnight and it’s actually quite pleasant. Disturbingly so, if you ask me. 

There are a few dozen other people here enjoying the weather — smoking and talking and wearing sandals, or all things. I can’t imagine anyone wearing sandals in London tonight. 

…

There’s a lot I’ve forgotten about Greece. Like the cats. It’s insane, Pen. I can see three right now without even having to turn my head. I —

…

It’s just strange. I stayed here for nearly three months. That was three years ago, but still… Nothing fundamental has changed during that time. And yet…

…

And yet it feels unfamiliar to me now. But I suppose that has more to do with me — and perhaps time — than the country itself. 

…

God. I sound like somebody’s grandfather. I think that’s my cue to head back to my hotel.

Night, Pen. Talk soon. 

~~~~~~~~~~

December 19th, 2018 - 11:12 PM

To: pen 💛 

From: colin 🤡

Hey, Pen. Sorry — I know it’s late. 

I just sent you the first draft of my piece and…

I don’t know. There’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot. I tried to weave it into the story, but my readers don’t come to me for Bridgerton family history lessons, so —

[Laughter.]

Suffice to say, I left it out. 

But I don’t know. I just — I keep thinking about it.

…

Did you know my grandfather was stationed here at the end of World War II? He came here in ‘44, about a year before it all went shit for the Germans. And when it did, he was given the option to leave Vienna and immediately return to London. At the time, he hadn’t been home — hadn’t seen my gran — in over three years. They wrote hundreds of letters to each other during that time — all of which are stashed in a box at Aubrey Hall, in case you were wondering. But anyway…

When the war ended, as much as my grandfather wanted to go home and see my gran’s face again, he wrote to her and asked if she would be willing to wait a little while longer. If she could stand it if he stayed here. If he remained in Vienna while the allied forces first occupied the city — to continue carrying out his duty. 

She said yes. He stayed here another two years. He arrived back on English shores on April 6th, 1947. Two days later, they got married. They did at a courthouse, just the two of them together. Like they were the last two people in the world. 

…

I, uh — I didn’t piece this all together through the letters alone. My dad actually told me about it a few weeks before he died. I remember asking him why granddad stayed in Vienna for so long after the war technically ended. How he could stand to stay away from the woman he seemed so desperate to return to.

I remember my dad telling me: “There are times when duty surmounts passion.” Which I didn’t understand. Mainly because I was eight and had no fucking clue what the word “surmounts” meant, but…

Now, I understand what he was trying to say. That duty and passion are separate. That my grandfather’s duty lied in war, while his passion lied with his love. That his duty went beyond his required deployment period. That he stayed in Vienna those extra two years because that’s what he felt was right, even if he would have preferred to go home and be with the love of his life. 

Now, I —

…

I think my dad was wrong. He described my grandfather’s duty to his country as passionless — as if it was something he had to do when he wanted to be elsewhere. But I’ve read my grandfather’s journals from that time, and he never wrote about his life like he was carrying the weight of the world on his back. He may have been homesick and distressed at times — it was a bloody war, for god’s sake. But he — he was also proud of what he was doing. He was fulfilled. He was not drowning in a lack of passion. 

I think we —

[Cough.]

I think some people, at least, have multiple passions. Passions that are at war with one another. That make it impossible to achieve everything we want all at once. Some that beg us to go home, some that beg us to stay. 

I think my grandfather made a choice. I think he chose one passion for a while, and one forever. I think he knew that once they married, he wouldn’t be able to bear living without my nan ever again. 

…

[Awkward laughter.]

I guess he was lucky that she was willing to wait for him.

…

[Sigh.]

Well… I believe I’ve taken up enough of your time. If you somehow managed to listen all the way to the end, I sincerely apologise for the rambling. I promise I’ll wait until Sunday to share the rest of my travel epiphanies with you. 

Take care, Pen.

~~~~~~~~~~

December 20th, 2018 - 12:11 AM

To: colin 🤡 

From: pen 💛

I always listen until the end. 

I’ll see you on Sunday. Goodnight, Colin. 

~~~~~~~~~~

January 31st, 2019 - 3:45 PM

To: pen 💛 

From: colin 🤡

You know, Pen, I’m starting to suspect that you purposely ‘miss’ my calls just so you can listen back to these wonderful voice messages whenever it pleases you. And while I can understand your desire to have these recordings stashed away forever, I would selfishly prefer some actual back-and-forth between us. 

I’m currently sitting outside one of the seven wonders of the world. Call me back and I’ll tell you all about it.

~~~~~~~~~~

March 21st, 2019 - 5:17 PM

To: colin 🤡 

From: pen 💛

Hey! Thank you so much for your insights on my story. Danbury loved it. 

Call me back when you have the chance. Thanks again!

~~~~~~~~~~

April 29th, 2019 - 7:57 PM

To: pen 💛 

From: colin 🤡

Hey, Pen. Just wanted to give you a head’s up that I just sent you a draft and it’s absolute bollocks. If you can manage to turn it into something vaguely readable, I will literally fly you out here just to say thanks. And I know how much you love Thai food. 

~~~~~~~~~~

June 29th, 2019 - 10:20 PM

To: colin 🤡 

From: pen 💛

Hey! Sorry, I just saw that you called! And I am now remembering that you’re in Dubai and probably — hopefully — fast asleep by now so…

[Laughter.]

…

[Indecipherable noise.]

We’re, uh — We’re still out for Kate’s birthday. We’re on our way to karaoke, actually.

[Laughter.]

Thank god El is here, or else I would be worried about being the worst singer in the pub. I —

[Indecipherable noise.]

Sorry! I have to go. Call me when we’re both awake. 

Lo—

[Cough.]

Um… Goodnight!

~~~~~~~~~~

October 18th, 2019 - 8:08 PM

To: colin 🤡 

From: pen 💛

Did you really just send me an SOS text from Los Angeles? I admire your creativity, but this is not how you convince someone to drop everything and take an impromptu holiday with you. 

…

In the event that you are in an actual emergency, please contact the proper authorities. I appreciate your commitment to the bit, but I ask that you please not sacrifice your life for it. 

~~~~~~~~~~

December 9th, 2019 - 8:30 AM

To: pen 💛 

From: colin 🤡

Hey, Pen.

I just finished reading your new column. Phenomenal, as always… But how the hell did you manage to sneak a pun in there? I thought Danbury had a strict policy against “superfluous literary devices.”

However you managed it… Congratulations. I couldn’t be prouder. 

~~~~~~~~~~

December 19th, 2019 - 4:41 PM

To: colin 🤡 

From: pen 💛

Hey! I had a work thing tonight but it just got cancelled. Any chance you want to meet at Mondrich’s? 

Let me know. I’ll, um, hopefully see you soon. 

~~~~~~~~~~

January 29th, 2020 - 9:22 PM

To: pen 💛 

From: colin 🤡

Hey, Pen. 

…

You’re the closest thing I have to a manager, right? In your professional opinion…

Would it be crazy to bail on this trip early? Give myself, uh… 48 hours to go home and grab some proper fish and chips. See Auggie and Blair. See mum. See you — obviously. London isn’t the most logical pit stop between Berlin and Prague but…

…

Yeah — you know what? It was a dumb idea. I’ve got plenty of those, so… 

Call me back when you’re not too busy. Maybe I can share some more. 

~~~~~~~~~~

February 14th, 2020 - 10:00 AM

To: colin 🤡 

From: pen 💛

Good morning!

Is it still morning in Prague? I —

[Faint laughter.]

I suppose that doesn’t matter much when it comes to voicemails. I, um — 

I’m doing some research on old churches. Which — don’t ask. But I’m currently sitting on the steps outside St. Bride’s Church. I don’t know if you’d recognise it, but it’s the one downtown that, um —

[Laughter.]

The one that looks like a wedding cake. 

I think you’d like it. And not just because of its food-shaped exterior. 

It’s actually considered a church for writers. And for publishers. It got that reputation back in the 17th century, when the publishing industry was booming here on Fleet Street. But, regardless of all that…

It’s really quite an interesting building. I can see why it’s attracted and inspired so many great writers over the years. 

Maybe we can check it out the next time you’re in town. Which is…

God. June, I think? 

…

Anyway… I’m still at the very beginning stages of my research, so I barely know what it is I want to write about yet. But one thing that’s stuck out to me so far is how old these buildings feel. How the architecture, the acoustics, the artwork, the — 

…

Honestly? I’m not sure exactly what does it, but something makes these buildings feel as though they’ve stood here forever. This particular church has only been here about 350 years. But still… You feel all that time when you walk through its halls. 

It’s a good reminder, I think. To know how long things last. 

…

Wow. So this is how it feels to be on the other side of these long, rambling, stream of consciousness voicemails. 

[Faint laughter.]

Bye, Colin. Thank you for lending me your future ear. 

~~~~~~~~~~

March 11th, 2020 - 5:55 PM

To: colin 🤡 

From: pen 💛

Hi! I just got off my train. I assume you’re still in the air, so just text me whenever you land. 

Hopefully the airport wasn’t too chaotic, but um…

…

I’ll meet you at the hotel. I — 

I can’t wait to see you. 

[star-girl69]

Baby don't even apologise for late responses cause regardless of when you reply to me, the response will most definitely have me in space and floating on cloud 9 for the rest of the day.

- ❤️

(Honey I miss you all the time and I think your beauty is unmatched. I call you a gorgeous goddess for a reason❤️❤️❤️)

(You're good at chemistry🤭🤭🤭dammmmmn beauty and brains??? Cause how am I supposed to not fall in love????I can't wait to read what you're writing(remember we are patient and understanding don't push yourself) You sound so hardworking 🤭)

(I LIVE FOR YOUR YAPSSSS. I NEED MOREEEEEE. Tell me about today??? (no pressure though ❤️❤️❤️))

(You're amazing❤️)

i saw i got this ask and then jumped up and down right? like as one does and then my bff said “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” and i was like “GIRL YOU DONT WANNA KNOW” and then she grabbed by phone from me and i was like “girl you’re not gonna like it” and then she threw my phone down and started fake gagging like i toldddddd youuuuuuuu

anyways….

(honey 🤭🤭) ALL THE TIME?????? RAHHHHH i was so sad yesterday bc idk what time zone you’re in but i had to go an ENTIRE DAY without a reply and i was like having withdrawals…. not even funny

i love when you call me gorgeous goddess it makes me like not okay in the head yk? like. i think you can infer how it makes me feel…. 🤭

i’m INSANE at chemistry im taking ap chem next year in fact but i actually have a complaint

THIS SHIT took me forever and then my teacher wasn’t even here today so i could have had an entire day more to do it but WHATEVER. WHATEVER ITS FINE 🙄🙄🙄 it’s not hard or anything it just takes forever and also there’s so many numbers and i SUCK at math so there’s a possibility that i messed up my calculations but IDC!!!!!!! i’m too tired to check it

because of you is turning out so bleh. i don’t like it lmao 😭😭 but i mean idk i’ll still publish probably tmrw hopefully tmrw aka tuesday

i KNOW you all are patient and understanding but i am NOT so 😭😭😭

i fear you are wrong and i am not hardworking do we not remember me talking about how i procrastinate 24/7

THANK YOU IM GIGGLING FR I CANT EVEN DESCRIBE THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL 🤭🤭🤭

today is fine so far but OH MY GOD my ap lang teacher handed us back our synthesis essays and then asked me if i could read mine outloud as what to show everyone NOT to do i was like GIRLLLL NO WAY 😭 but it’s ok i think mrs b still loves me ☹️ it was like bc my topic sentences did not align w my thesis and i was like ok i mean you’re right but wtv… i’m struggling so bad w writing rn idk what’s going on. i mean i still got an 8/10 while most people got 7 or 6 so i still ate.

also i love baby hippos

and i have sat prep class today after so that SUCKS let’s hope it’s not like last week when i had that BLINDING headache good lord. did not rival the great headache of 2022 but still

idk. anyways sorry i hope you know this makes me like AHHHHHH giggle kick my feet all the stuff i’m not good at expressing it but ☹️ you get the point hopefully…

giggling 🤭 YOURE amazing 💋💋

[vivi-in-the-sky-with-diamonds]

Where Heart Doth Hop

(Source)

In which you help three of four boys practice a certain Shakespearean performance.

Apologies once again for no posts. It's raining a lot here and the only internet I have is my hotspot and my data gets really slow when it rains. Finally finished reinstalling Windows 10 but now I have to reinstall Word with my slow ass internet >.> since my masterlist is a page and can only be accessed for editing on web (and since my internet is an actual ass), this one might not be there for a bit, but that's why we make master tags lol.

Like I said before, originally written for my Beatles dr but I honestly liked it too much to not post it. This isn't a direct manuscript of this performance, but it's pretty damn close. The audio on that performance (or at least the upload I've seen) was kinda bad, and the audience was super loud (understandably so) so some lines are directly from the original play or just referenced from an outside POV. I watched the performance and read the scene from the play several times while writing this to make it as accurate as possible. It's never explicitly stated where John is (I think at one point, I decided in my head, he was on a date or something), so you can choose your own adventure on that.

Proofed in UK English (probably). Checked with a random TTS website to triple-check for typos and me forgetting to change the person. Sorry I'm posting this at 3 AM, I procrastinated by sleeping all day (it was raining, I couldn't help it!) and then playing the Sims Medieval for an ungodly amount of time. Please excuse my sorry excuse for a name for this one, it's my favorite line and I couldn't come up with anything better. Enjoy!

“Y/N, can you help me with this?” Paul asks when he comes into the sitting room.

���Of course, love, what is it?” you reply.

“Well, we’re supposed to perform this Shakespeare thing and the lads and I wanna run through it, but, well…” He gestures toward George and Rich, noting the lack of John.

“Oh, I can do John’s lines,” you volunteer. “Which character?”

“Okay, you’ll be Thisbe.” He hands you what you assume is John’s copy of the script. “I guess we’ll pretend the coffee table is Wall.”

George and Rich stand back, Paul guiding you to do the same.

“O, I fear my Thisbe’s promise is forgot!” he begins. “And thou, o wall, o sweet and lovely wall, that stands between her father’s ground and mine! Thou, o wall, o sweet and lovely wall, show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eye— But what see I? No Thisbe do I see! O wicked wall, cursed be thy stones for deceiving me!”

He pretends to beat up whatever poor soul plays Wall before addressing the audience about Thisbe’s cue.

You walk to the table and clear your throat. “O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans for parting my fair Pyramus and me! My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones—”

As you continue your line, Paul addresses the audience again before standing across from you. “Thisbe!” he sings. “Thisbe!”

“What?!” you reply in fake annoyance. “My love thou art, my love I think.”

“Meet me at Ninny’s tomb straightaway.”

“Ninny’s tomb; is that still open?” You're trying your hardest not to laugh at the line as you both step back, allowing George and Rich to take their places in front.

“You ladies,” starts Rich. “You who fears the smallest monstrous mouse that walks the floor may now perchance both quake and tremble here, when lion rough in wildest rage doth roar!”

You and Paul nearly dissolve into giggles at Ritchie’s tiny roar before he continues, “And know that I one Ringo the drummer am, for if I was really a lion, I wouldn’t be makin’ all the money I am today, would I?”

He steps back, leaving George alone. You can tell George is having trouble with not having the hecklers' lines practiced, because he’s pure frustrated by the time he gets to, “Look, you, all I have to say is to tell you that this lantern is the moon, you see. I’m the man in the moon. This thorn bush here is my thorn bush, and this doggy-woggy here is my dog.”

You step forward. “So, this is old Ninny’s tomb. George, do you need something to hold in place of a lantern?”

George, with his arm suspended above your head, answers, “It’s fine. Keep goin'.”

“Right.” You feign knocking on the door before opening it. “But where is my love?”

Ritchie pops up in front of you with another roar; you scream, and he begins chasing you round the room before you end in what would be the background.

According to the script, you're—or rather John is—meant to drop a mantle, so you drop your handkerchief on the way back.

“Sweet moon,” says Paul, “I thank thee for thy sunny beams.”

As he begins another sentence, George shakes his head and gestures toward your fallen handkerchief.

“Hello, hello, hello, what’s this?” He begins his line as he picks up the fabric. “Eyes, do you see; how can it be? What dreadful dole is here! Thy mantle good, all covered in blood—” his accent makes the words rhyme, “—o dainty duck, o dear! Come, tears, confound! Out, sword, and wound—” he pulls an imaginary sword from its hilt “—the pap of Pyramus; that left pap where heart doth hop!”

You stare at him in adoration as he speaks, though you don’t think he notices, as he continues, “Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, now am I fled. Oh, well, you can’t win ‘em all. Tongue, lose thy light, Moon, take thy flight. See ya, George.”

George exits the “stage” as Paul begins fake stabbing himself. “Now, die, die, die, die, die!”

You skip in, humming a tune, and kneel next to him. “Asleep, my love?”

“Die, die, die!” he continues, still stabbing.

“What, dead, my dove?” You begin shaking him as you continue, “Pyramus, arise! O, speak, speak! Quite dumb. Dead, a tomb must cover thy sweet eyes. Those lily lips, his cherry nose, those yellow cowslip cheeks are gone, are gone. Lovers, make moan. His eyes were green as leeks.”

Paul is trying not to laugh as you say, “Tongue, not a word, not a word. Shut up!” You move to sit instead of kneeling. “Not a word. Come, trusty sword. Come, blade, my breast imbrue.”

You stab yourself with Paul’s imaginary blade before saying, “And, farewell, friends; thus Thisbe ends. Adieu, adieu, adieu!”

You and Paul take hands and lie backwards together as he says the line with you.

You're both laughing by the time you stand up.

“Right, I think that was good. Lads?” Paul looks to the other two for confirmation.

They both nod and Rich says, “I like her better than John. She takes the role seriously.”