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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

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Getting to First Base

A/n: just a little something. i need more seungmin on my masterlist anyway and i would do anything for my babies so! (not thoroughly edited)

Requested by: @pixielix

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999 @multi-net

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: cheeky seungmin that's about it i think

Summary: Kim Seungmin is the star of Cheongdam High. His grades are top-notch and he is the star pitcher of the school’s baseball team. Every girl wants date him and every guy wants to be friends with him. But, little does Y/n know he only has eyes for her. All it takes is one night and one extra private practice for things to change for both of them.

Genre: romance, fluff, non-idol!au, baseball player!seungmin, softball player!reader, highschool!au, popular kid!seungmin

◈

An ominous buzz filled the lunchroom. Not the kind attached to any flying pest. This was the sound of gossip seeping from every table in the cafeteria. Despite the conformity inspired by our school uniforms, clear, distinct borders were made in the large room.

Near the window, were the candidates for valedictorian and their study groups. Their trays always lay untouched and books took their focus. In the right corner were the Netizens and resident fan-girls and boys alike. They were mostly harmless unless it was comeback season. Across the way in the left corner was the ‘cool’ kids. Cool meaning the guys smoked behind the schools and the girls cut their skirts to short and glared at anyone who looked their way. Towards the back were your general outcasts and weirdos. They usually kept to themselves, but if you were caught sitting with them it was the social equivalent of suicide.

The center. The center was where everyone wanted to be. The focal point of the cafeteria was the two circular tables that housed the school’s pride and joy. The baseball and softball teams. And at the heart of it all, seemingly lit by a ray of sunshine, was Kim Seungmin. Star pitcher of Cheongdam’s baseball team.

Seungmin sat atop the lunch table, his shaggy brown hair falling across his forehead. His tie was loose and hanging lower than it should be and the silver bracelet he always wore dangled over his tan wrist as he waved over another member of his team.

It was no secret I liked Seungmin. Almost every girl in our school had a crush on Seungmin. Girls flocked to give him gifts before games and they waited for him before and after practice. I watched from the girls’ field as they lined up at the fence and cheered for him as he pitched inning after inning.

My less than white sneakers squeaked over the white tiles as I carried my lunch tray to the softball table. “Y/n!” My friend Jia waved me over, a bright smile illuminating her face. At the sound of my name, Seungmin’s head popped up like a meerkat and searched the cafeteria. His eyes met mine and I gave him a smile before sliding into my seat.

The cold metal of the cheap tables chilled the bare skin on my legs. “Did you hear about Miyoung?” Jia said twirling the aluminum chopsticks in her hand before stabbing them into a sausage. I nervously laughed at her exhibition of violence towards the innocent piece of meat.

“No. What about her?”

“Apparently she’s failing a class. Her mom is pulling her from the team.”

My jaw dropped, halfway full of food. Without looking she pushed it up, prompting me to finish chewing. “But we have Sectionals-” Jia nodded stabbed yet another sausage. “She’s our star pitcher-” I could hear the meat squealing in pain at her unhindered violence. I noticed some of the boys at the next table staring at her with terrified eyes. When she turned they looked away, hands hiding her next possible sausage target.

“I’m going to take these away from you.” My hands reached for her saucer but an animal like growl escaped her throat so I left her be.

Jia sighed looking at our team around the table. “I just really wanted to win Sectionals this year.” We ate the rest of our meal in silence, waiting for the bell to ring. The hall was flooded with students. The sea of blue jackets made it hard to weave my way into Room B23.

Class droned on for the next hour. Just as my eyes started to droop, I was hit in the back of the head by a paper projectile. The ball of notebook paper landed on the floor at my feet. My eyes fell on a familiar shaggy head of brown hair. With happy puppy eyes, he pointed towards the paper, eyeing the teacher warily.

Why Seungmin felt the need to throw the paper at me I had no clue. He sat right beside me. The teacher seemed preoccupied with scolding a student about using their phone so I reached down and picked up the note. I smiled seeing Seungmin’s handwriting.

Do you have practice today?

He was asking if I had practice? Did he suddenly drop every brain cell in that big head of his? It was a known fact that the baseball and softball schedule was practically identical. Every day he had practice and every day I had mine. That’s why the school invested in a second field for the softball team.

Of course. Same as you. Why?

My hand moved across the paper, making every letter neat and in beautiful handwriting. Quitely folding the note, I slipped it between two fingers and held it down by my side, staring at the board. I desperately tried not to withdraw feeling Seungmin’s fingers brushed mine as he took the parchment.

Quietly he unfolded the paper and I listened to his pen scrawl across it more than I did read the lessons from my textbook. My hand stayed ready to receive his message but it was once again tossed onto my desk. Rolling my eyes I opened his message.

I like knowing things.

Not bothering to write anything back I crumpled the sheet and tossed it at his head. Seungmin laughed, our teacher’s head shooting up and sending us a stern glare.

That was such a Seungmin answer. He always loved being the smartest person in the room. Putting the weird interaction in the back of my mind, I focused back on my work and waited for the school day to be over.

◈

I stood in line with the rest of the now twelve girls of Cheongdam’s softball team. The sound of the boys’ practice was carrying over the chainlink fence onto our field. Our coach walked the line, clipboard in hand.

“I’m sure you all are aware Miyoung has dropped from the team.” Most of the girls nodded, several gasped and turned to the others looking for confirmation. “With Sectionals coming up we need an immediate replacement for our pitcher.” His eyes scanned down the line, holding a stare with every single girl. “L/n. Congratulations, you are our new pitcher.”

“But- I’m just a shortstop?”

“Not anymore.” He tossed me a mitt and called for everyone to take their positions. A heavy weight landed on my shoulders as I stood atop the pitcher’s mound. I felt all eyes on me as the first girl stepped up to the plate.

The ball was familiar in my hands. I stared at the girl waiting to bat. With as much aim and accuracy as I could muster I threw the ball. It sailed over the plate before connecting with the wooden bat with a loud crack.

The rest of our practice seemed to last an eternity. The coach yelled at me more than anyone else on the team. By now everyone had left. The floodlights had been shut off and I stood in the dark on the pitcher's mound. The ball felt heavy in my hand.

Staring down the makeshift target I created at home plate, I wiped the sweat off my brow. The ball flew from my hand missing the target by just an inch. Sighing, I collapsed onto the ground head in my hands. Cold sweat lay on the back of my neck, becoming freezing as the night breeze blew over it.

“Shouldn’t you have left already?”

Looking up I saw Seungmin walking towards me with a long stride. A duffle bag hung loosely over his right shoulder and he smiled at me from the gate entrance. His hair was messy and I could see the sleeve of his uniform hanging out of the bag.

“I heard you’re the new pitcher. How is that going?”

“As you can tell, not so great.” Setting down his bag Seungmin grabbed onto a basket full of softballs and dragged it over to the mound. He placed on in my hand before standing back and watching expectantly. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, scuffing his shoe in the tan dirt. “Helping you. Obviously.” Nudging my shoulder he pointed to the target. “Let me see what you’ve got.” Pitching in front of Cheongdam High’s star player. This was certainly not how I imagined this night to go.

Taking a deep breath, I aimed my stare towards the target. Seungmin watched me with an analytic gaze as the ball left my hand. The round projectile grazed the second most outer ring of the target. He shrugged as I turned back to him.

“It’s not bad. I’ve seen worse.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence.” Seungmin shrugged once more and watched me pick up another softball. “Here. Why don’t you show me how it’s done then. A smirk played at his lips as I tossed him the ball.

He listed his head, playing with the spherical object. “You do realize, pitching a baseball and pitching a softball are technically different.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes as I stepped back from the top of the mound and motioned for him to step up. With perfect form, he let loose the ball, long fingers seeming to extend as it flew towards the target. A large thunk could be heard and all that was left was a dent smack dab in the center of the target.

“Want me to teach you?” Slowly I nodded and walked over to him. His fingers brushed mine as he handed me another ball from the basket. “Try inhaling when you prep and exhaling as you let loose the ball.”

Following his instructions, I took a deep breath and let go as the ball flew past my fingertips. Seungmin burst out laughing when the softball bounced off of the target’s corner. “You’re supposed to be teaching, not laughing dumbass!”

“I can’t help it,” Seungmin gasped, doubling over in laughter. “That was too cute!” My body froze involuntarily and I prayed that he assumed the blush on my cheeks was from the cold. His eyes raked over my face clearly noticing the heat flooding over my skin. “Try again?” Seungmin proposed picking up another ball.

Knowing my only chance of a scream-free practice tomorrow was standing next to me I turned back towards the plate, the ball passing between my hand and the mitt. Hearing Seungmin’s sharp intake of breath had me turning to wait for criticism. To my surprise, I felt his hands on my waist and his chest brushed against my back. Again I froze, choosing to look anywhere but the boy behind me.

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, breath fanning over the back of my neck. With a gentle touch, his hands turned my hips parallel to his. “Try angling your hips this way. IT might help-” Seungmin stopped and stared seeing my eyes dragging over his lips. Ghosting over the corner of his mouth was a smirk that would make the Chesire cat proud. “Your staring.”

“Well...you were talking.”

“Please, you were practically undressing me with your eyes.”

“When did I-”

He laughed, keeping his hands on my waist. “I’m just kidding, Y/n.” Embarrassed, I stared down at my shoes. “Though...if you did want to kiss me, you should just do it. I’m very tired of waiting.”

“You’re tired of waiting? What about me?” I asked turning around, crossing my arms. The rough leather of the mitt was tucked under my arm in an awkward way, but I ignored it. “Why do you think I always buy an extra banana milk on Fridays? I know you’re going to ask for one at study group.”

Seungmin laughed as I lightly swatted his shoulder, dropping the softball on the field and letting it roll away from the pitcher's mound. “Why do you think I go to study group? My grades are fine.”

“Well...I-”

Before I could come up with an answer, Seungmin leaned down and pressed his lips against mine before pulling away hands behind his back. “You what?”

“I-.....uh...well-”

Again, Seungmin leaned down and pecked my lips. “Yes?”

“Kim Seungmin would you stop for one second!”

“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?”

“Yes. Wait- no. Wait.....what?”

His eyes crinkled and he pulled me towards his chest, kissing me deeply this time. It was a kiss that made me weak in the knees. Still not entirely processing that Seungmin was in fact kissing me, my hands hung by my side. “I’m doing all the work here. Are you going to kiss back or what?” Seungmin said with a laugh. Shaking myself out of the confused trance I grabbed his cheeks and pulled him back down to my lips.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I kissed Seungmin with every part of my being. He smiled, holding me as close as possible. Suddenly a blinding light flashed over us. “Hey! What are you kids still doing here?” The voice of one of the security guards yelled.

Seungmin and I shared a look before dropping the mitts and running towards the gate hand in hand. Grabbing our bags, Seungmin pushed me through the gate as we ran from the school guards. “Run!” I screamed dragging him through the looming iron gates that bordered the school grounds.

The two of us laughed as we ran down the dimly lit street. “So, can I tell people you are actually my girlfriend now? We can officially be the best team in the sports department.” Leaning up I kissed his cheek before pulling him around a corner towards my house.

“Yes. Why would I turn down a boyfriend when he comes with free pitching lessons?” I joked making him roll his eyes and ruffle my hair.

◈

Requests are Temporarily Closed!

Masterlist

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ladyloveandjustice · 4 years

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Belated Spring 2020 Anime Overview: My Next Life as Villainess

For the Spring 2020 anime season, I mostly watched continuations of shows I was already into. The one new show I did pick up was My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! follows Katerina Claes, a spoiled young noble girl deviously scheming to win the heart of a prince- oh wait, never mind, she hit her head and remembered her past life! Turns out she’s an eighteen year old Japanese otaku chick who died and got reincarnated as the villainess in her favorite otome game.

If you don’t feel like reading the wiki article, an otome game is basically a female- targeted dating sim where you play as a blank slate main character and date a bunch of pretty boys (and sometimes girls, but usually only if you go outside the mainstream ones), unlocking their backstories and collecting all the romantic endings.

Having played this game, Katarina is well aware that the Villainess character- who constantly tries to interfere with the game’s heroine and whichever boy she’s pursuing- is either exiled or killed in all of the games endings. And now she IS that villainess, living in the world of the game and all its characters! Does that mean she’s doomed to a horrible fate? What’s a girl to do?

Well, if you’re Katarina, what you do is be supportive and kind to the people around you and in doing so accidentally get every single character in the game to fall in love with you. And yes, this includes all the boys the heroine is supposed to date, the other female romantic rivals the heroine is faced with and the game’s heroine herself.

That’s right, we finally got us some bisexual romantic comedy hijinx last anime season, my friends! My Next Life as a Villainess was the delightful little show I really escaped into during these anxious pandemic times . All these girls casually falling in love with Katarina without it being treated as ‘weird’ was what particularly drew me to this show and warmed my gay little heart to see. It was honestly the perfect fluffy, low stress watch during these high stress times.

Anime has long been oversaturated with ‘harem’ stories- where a usually unwitting protagonist somehow gets a bevy of beauties in love with them- but it’s still unfortunately really unusual to see bisexual harems, especially ones with a girl at the center, so right away there’s a big draw to this story that helps it stick out from the rest. (And worry not, the story is largely focused on Katarina having fun with these pals-who-are-not-so-secretly-in-love-with-her, rather than having a ton the dubious shenanigans you see in more sexually charged tales.)

Harem protoganists also famously tend to have the personality of potatoes, being so painfully bland it’s unclear why so many people would fall in love with them in the first place. But that definitely not the case for Katarina. She’s brash, ridiculous, kind and INCREDIBLY dense, and that for a pretty dynamic combination in this setting! She does genuinely come off as a fun person to be around. Unlike a lot of modern isekai shows, she doesn’t stumble into having incredible magic powers or skills, so her compassion is genuinely her greatest strength and what saves the day and wins hearts time and time again.

Katarina’s five brain cells doing their weekly check-in

(The moment she won my heart was when she responded to a tragic Frozen style situation with her friend locking himself away from people because he believed his magic was dangerous by taking an axe to his door. My kinda girl!)

The premise also allows for some plausible built-in reasons for the characters to take such special notice of Katarina- having been raised in a different world, she isn’t beholden to all the social rules, class divisions and noble family drama all the other kids in this very specific midevial-esque fantasy world are so embroiled in. This combined with her naturally earnest, accepting and straightfoward nature means she’s able to cross boundaries and reach out to them in a way they aren’t accustomed to. She was significant in each character’s life because she genuinely was the first to show them acceptance and affection without pretense, if only because she isn’t even aware there was supposed to be a pretense.

Katarina’s focus on trying not to die and her fear she’s going to meet the same fate as the villainess in the game also at least gives some kind of a basis to her comical obliviousness to everyone being in love with her. She assumes that everyone has to be into Maria (the heroine) and terrified of her because that’s how the game GOES okay, that’s CANON! Of course, this logic stretches thin as time goes on and it would be abundantly clear to most people that things have diverged greatly from the game’s storyline, but the show makes it clear that Katarina’s determined, one track mind is as much a gift as a curse.

Her bullheadedness when it comes to picking up how everyone REALLY feels about her is an intentional gag on the show’s part and even her love interests are well aware of what a colossal dumbass she is and not afraid to point it out!

My Next Life as a Villainess isn’t without its flaws, and the personalities/backstories of some of the ‘love interests’ Katarina gathers may be a stumbling block on some- mostly the male ones. Geordo, “the black hearted prince” has a bit of the “ possessive shoujo bad boy” archetype about him, and though he’s far from the worst that genre of love interest has to offer (there’s not much bad he can get up to due to Katarina’s obliviousness, the lighthearted nature of the show, and his rivals constantly getting in his way), the way he refuses to break Katarina and his engagement off despite her repeatedly asking him to, as well as some of his lines here and there, are definitely NOT cute.

Keith is Katarina’s adopted brother, but clearly has a thing for her too. On one hand, they only first met when they were nine and he fell for her pretty immediately. On the other hand, he still refers to her as “sister” constantly which is kinda eesh.

The other two guys are all right- Nicol’s big thing is he’s inexpressive and doesn’t talk much which, considering show doesn’t spend much time inside his head, doesn’t make him a very interesting character in the ensemble (maybe he comes across better in the novels) but there’s nothing wrong with him. Alan is undoubtedly the Best Boy in my book. He’s another common trope- rambunctious and competitive with Katarina but clearly soft for her- but he’s done well and they have a lot of cute moments together.

I find the girl love interests to be a much more interesting group overall, though this may be my obvious bias talking. Sophia has the strongest connection to Katarina, their backstories being intertwined in a surprising and touching way (I’m told in the novels her affection for Katarina was treated as more platonic, but the anime definitely plays it up as having romantic elements). Maria’s original role as the game’s heroine puts her in the most interesting position (and would make her the most narratively satisfying choice of love interest, if the show was actually interested in choosing). And while Mary is comically tenacious in her pursuit of Katarina, she’s doesn’t ever act ‘sinister’ or overstep boundaries in the way Geordo does, her “scheming” only really amounting to straightforwardly asking if Katarina wants to ditch her fiance and run away with her.

As I mentioned, one thing that really contributes to My Next Life as a Villainess being a relaxing watch is that the queer characters are treated with casual acceptance. Mary in particular isn’t subtle about her crush on Katarina, but nobody bats an eye at her and she’s completely open and comfortable with herself too. The observing maid notes that the girls are in love with Katarina with the same bland affect as when she notes she notes the guys are. And while the social practices of the nobles are pretty heteronormative- girls are always engaged in arranged marriages to guys, the guys are expected to dance with the girls (something Mary complains about!)- there’s apparently a booming queer romance novel industry that inspires our young wlw.

Katarina, having grown up in a different world, seems to be the one most prone to heteronormativity of her group. She never really considers that a girl would ever fall in love with her, but is also never hostile to the idea. It’s telling that when Mary very clearly indicates her desired romantic partner would be a girl, Katarina’s the only one that gets tripped up and has to walk back her assumption that Mary would be talking about a guy.

Mary LAYING DOWN THE LAW

Also, Katarina has SEVERAL “she’s so cute! My heart is beating faster!” moments with the other girls, on par in frequency with her moments with the guys. This strongly hints she’s an oblivious bisexual disaster.

So, My Next Life as Villainess is a fun, frothy watch and the rare positive example of silly wish-fufillment that’s inclusive to a wlw audience. But is the actual plot good, or remotely complex? The answer to that is no, the plot is fairly predictable and one definitely shouldn’t got into this story expecting a deep examination of the nature of fate or anything like that.There’s no real explanation of big reason as to why why Katarina was reborn into this game world and so on.

The antagonist that does eventually emerge plays off otome game tropes a bit, but ultimately isn’t that interesting or built up all that well. . The attempts at drama the show makes towards the end fall a little flat, especially since it tends to rely on very-late-in-the-game-exposition-dumps (dark magic isn’t even MENTIONED as existing in this world until like, the second to last episode where it becomes relevant and we get a vague infodump explaining its mechanics). The conflict honestly almost feels shoehorned in and the climax is pretty standard and doesn’t really utilize the big cast of characters all that well

But in the end, that’s okay! The show makes it abundantly clear from the beginning it’s not here to be Deep, but to be some silly fun. And it really fulfills that purpose well, from it’s catchy, peppy theme tune to its consistently warm tone. It MAY get repetitive at times for some, and I do have some quibbles- like how I found the childhood segments to be some of the shows best material and wish we could have stayed in that section for a bit instead of rushing through it, how I wish Katarina had kept her cute little scar, etc- but overall, it was definitely the soothing balm I needed during a very rough time and I absolutely recommend it if you’re looking for a chill, feel-good watch.

And hey, a second season’s supposed to be on the way too, so there’s something to potentially look forward to!

#my next life as a villainess #my next life as a villianess all routes lead to doom #destruction flag otome #otome gemu no hametsu furagu shika nai akuyaku reijo ni tensei shiteshimatta #anime overview #katarina claes #catarina claes #my reviews #spring 2020 anime

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nineteenninety-six · 4 years

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Hidden Feelings

REQUEST: hey i really love your posts! could i get an imagine with oscar diaz where the reader is fake dating mario (or someone else) just so the guy can get back at his ex, and oscar gets jealous but the reader reassures him to relax, it's not real and oscar can't help but hate it and ends up telling her how he feels about her? thank you!💞

Repost since tumblr sucks ass

I wasn’t very confident in writing this, so if this isn’t great, I apologize

“Please, (Y/N)! I’m begging you” Mario pleaded as he followed (Y/N) as she made her way through the supermarket.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at him, “Angelica isn’t going to believe that we’re dating, Mario. We’ve been friends since we were babies and our relationship is that of siblings, not lovers. She knows this.”

Mario added things that he wanted into her shopping cart, causing her to shoot him an unimpressed look.

“Look, this is beneficial for both of us,” Mario told her.

(Y/N) let out a scoff as she placed a carton of milk in her cart before she continued shopping.

“Ruby told me that Oscar’s been released from jail.” Mario suddenly brought up

(Y/N) pauses at Mario’s words and blinks in shock before she turns to her best friend.

“Since when?”

Mario shrugged, “Not sure, Ruby just told me that Cesar has been spending all this time with his brother.”

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “That doesn’t have anything to do with what you’re trying to do Mario”

“Yes, it does!” Mario throws a pack of cookies into the cart, “I’d get Angelica back and you and Oscar can finally confess to each other.”

“It was a childhood crush, nothing more.”

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

(Y/N) sighed, “Okay, fine but when this blows up in your face, do not say I didn’t tell you so because I did. Several times.”

“You’re the best!” Mario pressed a kiss to her cheek, “The Santos are holding a party tonight and everyone will be there, including Angelica.”

“So what time will you pick me up?” (Y/N) asked as they reached the checkout

“Around eight” Mario replies as he pays for the shopping that ended up being mostly his.

“Sounds good.”

Mario picked her up at eight pm just like he said and (Y/N) would be lying if she said she didn’t put in more effort into how she looked that night than what she usually did.

Mario noticed it when she slipped into the passenger seat of his car and gave her a smirk,

“Dressing up for Spooky?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Keep it up and I’ll stop being your fake girlfriend.”

Mario’s smirk widened, “Whatever you say, babe”

(Y/N) huffed at his words but she couldn’t help the smile that came onto her face.

When they arrived at the Diaz house the party was already in full swing. People littered in the front yard with bottles of alcohol in their hands, as well in the backyard. There was also a couch in the front yard that had the top members of the Santos on them, including Spooky.

While the men on the couch greeted Mario, (Y/N) looked in the other direction, acting as if she didn’t know that the person she had a crush on since she was a teen was on that couch.

“Isn’t that (Y/N)? How you doing, girl?!” Sad Eyes shouts from the couch.

(Y/N) could no longer act like she was obvious, so she turned to the men on the couch with a small smile and joined her hands with Marios, almost forgetting that they were faking it.

“Hey, Sad Eyes”

The action didn’t go unnoticed.

All of the men but one let out oohs and jeers.

“Mario and (Y/N)? Eyyy….”

The shouts had caught the attention of everyone in the front yard, including Angelica who (Y/N) could see from the corner of her eyes.

Mario wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her an obnoxious kiss on the side of her head,

“Yup!, we realised we both had secret crushes on each other and decided not to waste any more time.”

Oh god (Y/N) was sure if she rolled her eyes again, they’d get stuck. They made their way into the house afterwards, heading towards the kitchen where the drinks were held.

“Keeping acting like that and people will find out the truth” (Y/N) muttered

“Did you see how Angelica was looking at us?!” Mario completely ignored what she said.

“Mario”

“Spooky was looking at you too!” This time Mario’s words were hushed, not wanting anyone to hear.

After a while, (Y/N) excused herself to the bathroom and when she left the bathroom she was ambushed by Angelica.

“So you and Mario yeah?” Angelica crowded close to her.

“...Yeah”

“When did that happen?”

“Not that long ago, we’re still new” (Y/N) was extremely uncomfortable

“Huh…” Angelica gave her one last strong look before storming away.

(Y/N) breathed out a sigh of relief and went to the kitchen to get herself another drink but even there, she wasn’t able to have a moment alone

“Long time no see”

It was Oscar and his presence meant that the kitchen almost immediately.

(Y/N) turned to him with a smile, “Oscar, hey.”

“How’ve you been?” Oscar moved to stand next to her.

“I’ve been good.” (Y/N) always felt at ease next to Oscar, “I didn’t realise you got out of jail.”

Oscar gave her a small shrug, “Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

(Y/N) gave him a warm smile, “I’m glad you’re out. Your little brother needs you”

Oscar opens his mouth to talk but Mario calling for (Y/N) interrupts him.

(Y/N) pushed away from the counter and took a few steps towards her fake boyfriend before she turned back to Oscar, “We should catch up over lunch sometime.”

Oscar nodded silently and watched her leave, not hearing Sad Eyes approach him until he rested his hand on his shoulder.

“You’re lovesick hermano” Sad Eyes snickered.

Oscar rolled his eyes and moved away, not saying anything.

He hated to admit it but he was lovesick.

Instead of going out for lunch, Oscar had invited her over and cooked lunch for them. They spent the time catching up, as before Oscar’s stint in jail they were quite close.

“How long have you and Mario been together?” Oscar finally asks the question that had been weighing on him since the party.

“Me and Mario? -oh” (Y/N) let out a small laugh, “Me and Mario aren’t dating.”

“But at the party….”

“We’re fake dating” (Y/N) shrugged, “He wants to make Angelica jealous and get back with her.”

“I-... why did you agree?”

“Mostly because I want to watch Mario’s face when he realises his ‘master plan’ has failed.” (Y/N) smiled, “Mario is my best friend but he’s also a dumbass”

Oscar was relieved that she wasn’t dating Mario but he wanted to take the opportunity to finally confess his feelings before the opportunity left.

“(Y/N), I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time but never told you because I thought you wouldn’t be interested.” Oscar was straightforward with his confession but was too afraid to look at (Y/N)

“Oscar…”

Oscar finally looked up and was greeted with a beaming smile.

“Oscar, I like you to.”

“You do?”

“For years” (Y/N) snickered before pulling out her phone.

“What are you doing?” Oscar asked.

“Texting Mario that this little game or whatever it is, is over and to actually talk to Angelica.”

“He won’t be happy”

(Y/N) shrugged, “I don’t really care.”

Oscar began to laugh and (Y/N) quickly joined in.

#oscar diaz #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz imagines #on my block #on my block imagines #on my block imagine #omb imagine #spooky diaz imagines #spooky x reader #spooky diaz #spooky diaz imagine

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bsd-elle · 3 years

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Thoughts on the SK8 The Infinity Episode 12

So the final episode just aired. And I’m having majoorrr mixed feelings.

This show was truly something that kept me going, with it’s story, animation and the whole found family thing. I have loved this show from the beginning and I will till the end.

But as a lot of people in the fandom I do have some strong opinions on the finale

First off, I just want to say that everyone is allowed to have their own opinion but please do not send hate or any negative energy to studio Bones and Hiroko Utsumi. They have worked incredibly hard on this series. In fact I put them on a pedestal for giving us something so poignant and wonderful during such trying times. I looked forward every Saturday to watch the new episode and that feeling, that rush while watching it, never changed throughout the show’s run!!

Now on to my thoughts on the finale.

1. Shipping

I saw many people in the fandom criticizing the studio for queerbaiting. Now I can definitely not give an accurate perspective on this, as I am not part of the LGBTQIA community, though I am a strong ally.

Let’s talk about the main ships: Renga and Matchablossom

Renga: In my opinion they’re pretty much canon. All the hints, the loving looks, Langa jumping to hug Reki, Langa basically saying Reki is his happiness, Reki wanting to skate beside Langa (Infinitely). In my eyes, they’re canon.

Of course it would’ve been amazing to have a canon queer relationship, but we have no idea what happens behind closed doors. The rules in Japan, unfortunately are totally different from other progressive countries. As someone who lives in a country where they just decriminalized gay marriage, seeing canon queer relationships is honestly rare.

I think they did whatever they could to show that Renga is canon.

I mean come on, Langa basically said he liked Reki in episode 8

I think it would be very very cool and progressive to have a them outwardly admit to it, but we know both these dumbasses never finish their sentences. lol

I’m happy with the way their relationship evolved.

Matchablossom: I honestly can’t give a clear reasoning to this, because personally I don’t ship them. But the thing is, they could be canon, who knows?

I mean everyone was talking about how Joe went out with 2 girls in the end sequence and because of that they aren’t canon. But by that logic we couldn’t ship them from the beginning, since Joe kissed girls in the first episode.

I mean I totally headcanon that Joe is a bisexual king, so that means he could be hanging out them girls while still majorly crushing on Cherry.

Who knows, maybe Joe brought the girls to Cherry’s signing on purpose to make him jealous. Lol

Let your imagination run wild, people. It’s up to your own perspective. I personally don’t ship them, but I don’t think it’s queerbaiting when you pretty much have several hints to them caring deeply (love) about each other.

2. Story

This is where the critiquing comes.

One of the main reasons why I loved and still love Sk8 was one, obviously because of Renga and two because I absolutely loved the story.

From eps 1-11 the story was so compelling and written in such a fantastic way. Every week I’d have some assumptions and every time it would completely blow my mind.

In particular ep 10. When I originally saw the title “Dap not needing words” I was so worried.

They need to talk, they have to communicate. But wow, that episode was just phenomenal, if you guys want me to make a review on each episode I would be happy to, I have so much to say.

Sure, ep 10,11 was wayyy too rushed, but I just know it’s because they had to fit a lot of story in such a little time period. If they had maybe 24 episodes, they would’ve knocked it out of the park.

Either way I had no complaints.

My issue with ep 12 is the beef: Adam Vs Snow

I thought animation wise and as a beef it was really impactful (similar to Reki Vs Adam)

But why God, why did they give Adam a redemption

I’m sorry but he doesn’t deserve it.

I knew for a fact that as much as I wanted Adam to go to jail (so badly), I knew it wouldn’t happen. That was just not possible (in my eyes). I thought they would take a page from Fugou Keiji: Balance Unlimited, where his family (those evil ass aunts) and send them to jail (for clear mental, physical abuse and who knows what else), and Adam would go in isolation somewhere.

There he could properly heal from his trauma and abuse, work through it, heal his relationship with Tadashi and just work to be better.

There was a part of me that expected the show to end with a typical “oh we’re all friends and everything is forgiven” bullshit and I prayyedd that wouldn’t happen

But boy was I wrong

Why did they try to sympathize with him?!?

I get it, he’s clearly had severe trauma and abuse, and he uses skateboarding and entering the “zone” to get away from his terrible reality.

But why did they have Langa say this to him??

“Skating is fun because you can do it with your friends!”

It’s sweet that he’s trying to teach Adam what Reki taught him, but this implies that Adam is his friend. Or atleast that’s what he wants

“hey, you’re a crazy monster and you assaulted my friends (boyfriend), but I still wanna skate with you, cause it’s fun with friends”

I’m sorry, in what universe is this.. your friend?

Your actual friend, Langa, who taught you everything you know, who’s been with you from the start, he has been attacked and traumatized multiple times by Adam. Not to mention several other people.

I could’ve accepted it if they used the line

“Don’t ever end up on your own”

That makes more sense in this context, it’s like saying “hey you evil monster, you’re crazy but don’t end up alone, treasure the people in your life”

I think that implies more on the sense that Adam has to figure shit out on his own, by himself. Not with Langa and the people he’s assaulted.

Then it would make atleast a bit more sense to heal Tadashi and Adam’s relationship.

You just cannot build up a character like Adam, for 12 episodes and then completely forgo that for the sake of “friendship”, that just makes no sense

Not to mention, Kirako the detective, the fact that she worked so hard and got absolutely nothing, is preposterous.

That whole thing put a really bad taste in my mouth.

Also, during the beef, like I mentioned, Langa basically implies that they should have fun because they’re skating with friends.

This basically just throws out Langa’s friendship with Reki.

I mean Reki was so badly hurt and injured after their beef, both the times.

Yes, he did have a lot of fun and that was the point of ep 10, 11 to show Reki that he didn’t have to skate to be the best (like no one ever wass.. dun dun dun. If you know that reference, here’s a chocolate) he skated to have fun(even though in my eyes, he’s the best)

Ep 12 was that arc for Langa, for him to realize he also skated to have fun.

But when you’re condoning and encouraging Adam, idkk.. it just rubbed me the wrong way.

I didn’t like it at all. They made him into a gag character in the end scene, which is literally the opposite of what he’s been pictured for the past 11 episodes.

3. Side characters

Shadow did not deserve that in any way whatsover.

He was completely glossed over. I thought his injury would be a pivotal plot point for improving his relationship with the manager, but they just used it as a way to remove him from the tournament

Tadashi, babyy, that’s Stockholm syndrome

When I saw that dog comment:

Godd... he deserves so muchhh moree..

So, overall the finale, honestly disappointed me. But my love for sk8 is everlasting and the finale will never change that

4. Future

Hopefully, and I pray for this

A season 2, movie, OVA or anything tbh.

There’s so much potential

Reki and Langa go to Canada, they visit Oliver’s grave, Langa teaches Reki snowboarding

Kirako finally arresting Adam

Tadashi becoming true friends with Langa, Reki and the gang

Shadow getting the love he deserves

Matchablossom canon

Renga canon

Miya getting the apology he deserves

But whatever it is, Sk8 the Infinity owns my heart and I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life.

Other than reading Renga fanfiction

#sk8 the infinity #sk8 #renga #hasegawa langa #kyan reki #sk8 langa #sk8 reki #adam #matchblossom #cherry blossom #joe #sk8 cherry x joe #sk8 cherry blossom #what is my life now #its incomplete

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crashingmeteorz · 4 years

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post-war ba sing se bimbo headcanons

so zuko becomes the firelord, and jin and jet think it’s hilarious. he’s so good at it. he’s so charismatic. they’re like “who the hell is this guy? when did he get mature and responsible???” and song’s like “when zuko wasn’t doing stupid shit, he was stopping you two from doing stupid shit, i saw this coming a mile away.”

jin joins the kyoshi warriors, and is overwhelmed by all the pretty girls she’s working with, but for the most part it becomes a sisterhood. she will forever and always have a severe crush on suki, however, and really, can you blame her? so when suki reciprocates, jin writes song a four-page essay about it.

anyway, when zuko asks the warriors to come to the capital, obviously jin’s there, too. jet and song show up almost immediately after jin does.

“what, you two are hanging out without us now?” song asks them accusatorily. “it’s not fair that only you get to see jin, zuko.”

“yeah,” jet says. “and i used to see zuko shirtless a few times a week. and i thought i was lucky! now jin’s a kyoshi warrior and she gets to see it every day?”

“she does not!” says zuko. “yeah,” says jin, while shaking her head the opposite.

attempts on zuko’s life are about as common as rain showers, so song starts testing basically everything he eats with some of her chemicals. every time she finds something insidious, she tracks down every link in the chain that got the food to him, and finds a way to rectify the situation. she doesn’t trouble zuko with this, because he’s got enough going on. also, he probably maybe wouldn’t approve of her methods.

(song is not inherently violent, but when it comes to her family, she’s downright vicious).

jet wants to get in on the action, but between song’s disarming sweetness and the kyoshi warrior’s intimidation, zuko’s basically protected. what he isn’t, is good with people.

zuko can make grand dramatic speeches all day long, but when it comes to the council, or local government officials, or merchants, or literally even jet, he’s the same awkward kid jet met on the boat to ba sing se.

“you are never going to make it as firelord.” jet tells him from the couch he’s lounging on while he watches zuko practice a very basic interaction in the mirror.

“okay, fuck you, too.” zuko says miserably.

“sorry, i wasn’t clear,” jet says, standing beside zuko. “you are never going to make it as firelord without me.”

jet tries in vain to get zuko to lie better, to present himself differently, to deceive just a little bit, but it just isn’t happening. zuko doesn’t even want to lie, he doesn’t want to be like his father and azula, so they take a different approach.

instead, jet teaches him how to spot liars, and how to play the game. it’s basic stuff, like let silence linger because they’ll want to fill it if they’re afraid you don’t believe them. ask them bizarre questions so they overcorrect. if they’re complimenting you too much, they’re trying to deceive you.

to jet, it’s survival. to zuko, it’s like a whole world has opened up he never knew about. he hangs on to jet’s every word, and at the end, he asks that jet join him in council meetings, naming him an ambassador from the earth kingdom.

this is how jet discovers that he’s AMAZING at politics. he can’t believe how easy it is. he considers taking it up as a hobby when he gets back to the earth kingdom.

“you can’t do politics as a hobby,” zuko says.

“why not?” jet says. “it’s just fun. it’s not what i’m meant to be doing forever though.”

“do you have a mysterious job back in the earth kingdom none of us know about?” asks jin.

“yes,” says song, irritable from today’s batch of poison discoveries, “he’s working full-time as a little bitch.”

the more meetings jet attends, the more he wonders if politics really is for what he’s meant. arguing and debating delights him and, unlike the exhausted zuko, he leaves the debates feeling energized. but it just feels so bureaucratic, so useless compared to what he did during the war.

he’s so torn about it that he finally asks song for advice.

“i don’t know anything about politics,” she says tiredly. he’s playing idly with her hair after she’s had a long day of Keeping Zuko Alive. “why are you asking me?”

“because you don’t hold back,” jet tells her. “because you let me know when i’ve gone too far.”

song’s glad it’s dark in the lounge, because she can’t believe she’s blushing.

“well,” she says finally. “what would you be in it for?”

“what do you mean?” he says. “i just like it.”

“do you like the attention?” song asks. “are you just interested in the drama of it all? or do you want to make a difference?”

“i want to make a difference,” he says confidently. “i want to help the earth kingdom.”

“well, then, there’s your answer,” song says.

“yeah,” jet agrees. “no politics for me.”

“wait, what?” song asks him, because how did he reach that conclusion?

“it’s just smooth talking and paperwork. it’s not gonna help the earth kingdom,” jet tells her. “i’m not selling out.”

“is that what you think zuko’s doing?” she asks.

“of course not,” jet says, rolling his eyes. “but he’s also the firelord. that’s different.”

“and he’s your best friend,” she reminds him. “and you also happen to be on good terms with the avatar and the leaders of the southern water tribe, so you know you have influential people who will hear you out. if you want to make a difference, this is probably the best way.”

he’s quiet for a while. he almost looks disappointed.

“not every battle is on the battlefield, jet,” song says gently. “it’s not as glamorous, or as dangerous. it’s tedious and difficult and boring. but it’s what’s left, after the war.”

“i guess that’s the thing,” jet says sadly. “i don’t know who i am without the war.”

“i do,” song says with so much sincerity jet almost blushes. almost. he’s still, like, cool.

if they fall into a routine where song fixes his hair into something presentable for council meetings and jet forces her to take a break and enjoy the sunshine once in a while, zuko and jin don’t feel it’s necessary to comment.

for like three days.

“you stole my boyfriend,” zuko accuses song after catching her and jet kissing. the fact that sokka’s napping with his head in zuko’s lap as he says so doesn’t seem to faze him.

“you stole my ostrich horse,” she says, for the last time ever, “so now we’re even.”

“what’s with you and guys with weird facial hair?” jin asks as she stuffs her face with fire flakes, her new favorite treat. “first haru and now jet?”

“haru?” jet squeaks.

“i liked haru’s moustache,” song says thoughtfully. “i thought it made him look mature.”

“at least if jet grew a moustache i’d understand what everyone sees in him,” sokka says sleepily. “no offense.”

“you’re just mad i kissed zuko first,” huffs jet.

jet stops shaving that week. everyone notices.

when song and jet finally prepare to go back to the earth kingdom, jet privately asks zuko if it’s true that he and aang are considering founding a city that unites the nations. zuko tells him it is.

“well, i want in. whenever that is,” he says, and jet and zuko hug.

song and her mother open up a hospital and sanctuary that specifically caters to displaced families. jet reunites with longshot and smellerbee, and they drift around but tend to come back to the sanctuary. they often go out on missions to try and reunite families. it’s not quite fighting, and it’s not quite peace, so it’s a good transition for jet and his freedom fighters.

eventually, things slow down and so does jet. he starts walking around the village they’re located in without his weapons. a child asks song where she got the scars on her leg, and when she explains it was a firebender, the child says “oh, did he get in trouble?” song laughs and laughs, because for the first time in years, there are children who don’t know war.

jin doesn’t stay as a kyoshi warrior forever, but she does decide to settle down on kyoshi. she never really wanted the dangerous life, she just wanted some adventure and sort of stumbled into the chaos of jet and song and zuko. the quiet island is perfect for her. she still stirs up trouble once in a while though.

“COME GET YOUR IDIOT SHE TRIED TO RIDE THE UNAGI.” suki writes in two identical letters, one to jet and song and one to zuko.

“okay, whatever suki tells you, i want you to know she’s lying. i DID ride the unagi and it was SICK. sokka was here recently and said someone invented an image-capture thing is that true? because if it is i want you to bring one and come here ASAP so i can do it AGAIN.” says the fervent letter from jin that arrived three days after suki’s.

jet and song arrive promptly, song laden with medical supplies and a sternly-worded letter from her mother to jin. jet brings a camera.

zuko shows up a few days later with the latest in camera technology and a photographer, as well as his one-year-old daughter. he goes all-out because this is his and izumi’s first trip together. jet grumbles about being one-upped.

“you’re the firelord, you’re gonna encourage this?” song asks him, eyes furious but voice sweet as she plays with izumi. “excuse me, song, but the war is over, i have no jurisdiction here. if an earth kingdom citizen wants to exercise her right to be a dumbass she’s more than welcome to,” says zuko in his most diplomatic voice.

“and,” he adds more gently, “i missed you guys.” song still thinks he’s being ridiculous, but she gives him a big hug anyway.

zuko has to firebend at the unagi to stop it from eating jin and song is left to mend jin’s broken arm. jet takes pictures throughout the entire thing, from her climbing onto the creature, to getting thrown, to being bandaged up and laughs the whole time. song produces a second letter written by her mother which she was instructed only to give to jin in the event she rode the unagi.

all it says in neat hand-writing is, “i told you so. now come home so i can feed you, you ridiculous child.”

“i’m 24,” pouts jin, but since she’s the youngest, the group agrees heartily with song’s mother.

the five of them go to the sanctuary, where iroh is drinking tea with song’s mother and trading stories about their new respective lives.

zuko has to return to the capital in three days, iroh’s got his tea shop to run, and jin isn’t planning on staying long because her “super hot girlfriend is doing something extremely sexy” and she has to get back soon.

“jin, please, just talk normal for once in your life,” zuko begs her, bouncing izumi on his lap. “fine,” she says, “she’s being voted in as the leader of the island and i want to be there for the ceremony.”

jet realizes it’s not often he’ll have all the people he loves in one place, and quietly asks song something important.

they get married the night before zuko and jin leave, in front of jet’s freedom fighters and song’s mother and iroh. jin and zuko stand as their maid of honor and best man. zuko cries.

for the first time in almost two decades, all of them start to feel at peace.

ty so much for this au @azenkii writing about it is one of the most enjoyable experiences haha. is this update softer than usual? yes, of course, it’s what they deserve.

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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So Done

Daniel (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) & Reader (Trans Masc - using They/them pronouns)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic fluff, humor

Summary: Having a crush isn’t easy but having a friend who has a crush he thinks is hopeless is even worse. Dealing with the constant self-deprecation and agony, Y/N’s gotten used to it, but damn if they stop trying to convince Daniel otherwise. Cause that’s what best friends do.

Requested by my platonic spouse @hopeveon Here’s the fic you requested literal ages ago bro - sorry for the wait! Still, hope you enjoy it :) Love, Vy ❤

“If you don’t stop gazing dreamily at Taylor, I swear imma throw a french-fry at your forehead.“ I caught onto Daniel’s inability to focus on the conversation we were having quite early on so I just gave up on it. Well, not completely - he has a tendency of claiming he’s been listening to all I’ve said so I’ve just been rambling nonsense for the past ten minutes and he hasn’t reacted to ANYTHING. Yeah, he’s totally paying attention. TOTALLY.

It’s not like I mind it or anything - ok, sometimes I do, but what really bugs me is this dragging out of the inevitable love story that’s gonna occur here, no matter how hopeless he claims his case to be. Trying to beat that mindset out of him hasn’t proved to be effective nor has beating him out of that mindset so I’m just left to my own devices here because he’s starting to prove me wrong - he might actually be a hopeless case. Just not in the way he thinks.

“W-what?“ He suddenly snaps out of his odd state, turning to look at me with a baffled gaze. Probably the sound of Taylor’s name set him off. It seems to be the only way I can draw his attention.

You see, I’ve known Daniel since high school sophomore year which means I’ve seen him have several crushes and girlfriends over the years. However, I have never seen him whipped quite like this. My dude’s literally in love and completely star-struck. And very fucking discouraged in the romantic field for some reason. I don’t understand when or why this sudden change in him happened but I can’t say I’m a fan. He’s always been the confident one in our duo and I’ve seen him win over girls with a single conversation many times. Yet here he is, across the cafeteria from the girl he’s infatuated with, unable to work up the courage to even text her let alone go up to her and talk to her.

Instead, he sits here, pretending to be listening to me. Wonderful, but I’d like the old Daniel back please.

“I said it’d be cool if a meteor struck that dumbass who sits next to me in class.“ I say, my head tilted to the side, very unamused.

He furrows his brows, lost and confused as though he needs a map for the conversation, “And what does Taylor have to do with that?”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. I’m typically a person of average patience but right now I feel a really strong urge to grab neon signs and spell it all out for Daniel. I roll my eyes and take a deep breath so I don’t snap, “Nothing with the meteor, but she’s got plenty to do with the fact that you’re completely different compared to the Daniel I knew in high school.”

He shrugs his shoulders like an accused child that doesn’t wanna admit what they did wrong. “College changed me.”

I give him another eye-roll, more annoyed than the previous, “That’s bullshit. You were the same dumbass in freshman year too.” I say, observing as he insecurely pushes his food around the plate with the plastic fork, “It’s all got to do with Taylor. You can’t rattle my resolve there.”

It’s his turn to be annoyed - the audacity he has, damn. “Alright, thanks Y/N, great observations. How about you give me some solutions though? Seeing as how I’m a dumbass and all that.”

“Well you are...“ I reply, unbothered by his childish outburst, “...especially since I just gave you a solution to your damn problem: go and talk to her! You have like four classes together, do you really have nothing to discuss? Any interests in common? Anything?“

“I don’t know.” He sighs defeatedly, “We’ve never talked about our interests. But I bet she’s not a video game nerd like I am. Nor does she look like she’s into sports. The most we could have in common is music and who knows what kind of music she listens to.“

“Oh God, I’m on the brink of losing my sanity.“ I mutter under my breath, burying my face in my hands. This is literal agony. “Daniel, YOU’d know if you went up to her and talked to her! Meeting people isn’t a guessing game - and look who’s talking! I hate approaching people first too, but this case of yours is too severe.“

“You realize you’re being hypocritical right now?“ He dares to ask me.

“You realize you’re being an actual coward right now?“ I retort, narrowing my eyes at him with what I can only describe as a threat put into a look. Oh if looks could kill, I would’ve killed his doubts asap.

He tilts his head back, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back into his seat, “You can’t be serious....”

“They are serious, but more importantly - they are right.“ Says a voice I recognize immediately. One that belongs to the guy that just occupied one of the last two open seats at our table - Andrew. “And you gotta stop torturing yourself like this, Dan.“

“Yourself and us. This feels like watching paint dry with ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ as a soundtrack for it.“ I intervene, “It’s absolutely fucking brutal.“

Daniel’s gaze switches between Andrew and I, clearly defeated considering he’s been outnumbered and very clearly second-guessing his decision to be sitting here with us right now. “Two against one, this ain’t even fair.” He finally says through an uneasy sigh.

“It’s perfectly fair in democracy - two votes you go talk to Taylor, one - yours - for the opposite option.“ I shrug my shoulders, fist-bumping Andrew the table. “So...I think you know what you gotta do.“

His gaze does a few more back-and-fourths between the two of us before he mutters, “I’m so done with the two of you” and gets up out of his chair, headed to the other side of the cafeteria where Taylor’s seated with a few of her friends seniors.

“We’re done with you too!“ We call out to him in unison, watching as he walks away, no doubt having an inward debate on what to say or do.

“He’s gonna thank us one day.“ Andrew says, taking a sip of his soda.

I nod, a small smile appearing on my face as I say: “Ten bucks says he’ll get too in-depth about the weather.“

Andrew snorts, almost choking on his drink as he bursts out laughing, “I’m not picking that up, I can’t afford to lose another ten bucks to a bet with you.”

“Smart guy, smart guy.“ I chuckle, stealing the unopened soda can Daniel left behind. Considering he has sat down at the seniors’ table and appears to be making casual small talk by the looks of it, I don’t think he’ll be returning to complain about the stolen drink anytime soon.

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kopikokun · 4 years

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Spilled Drinks & Study Sessions༄ mark l.

↳ When you’re forced into a study session with your next door neighbour Mark, who also happens to be your academic rival in school, things go south very quickly.

pairing; mark lee x reader

genre; fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (more like friends, but anyway)

wordcount; 2503 words

author’s note; how the hell do you guys write e2l and make the transition so smooth? bro i could never. also, the header pic is different than what i normally do :/ it’s kinda eh, but i liked the picture so i had to do something with all that empty space

Request 26: Mark + “Oh, are you ticklish?” (73) + “Why are you naked?” (109)

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧. | 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬.

The animosity between you and Mark is intense and painstakingly obvious to everyone around you. Well, everyone besides your parents, you suppose.

“Can you stop being so loud? You’re distracting me,” you grumble, angrily flipping through your homework.

“Well, I’m sorry for breathing.” Mark rolls his eyes at you. “Would you rather I stop entirely instead and drop dead right here, right now?”

“At least it would be quieter if you did.” You press your pen down harder, taking your rage out on your poor, innocent worksheet. If you’re going to blame anyone for the excruciating torture your homework is enduring, you’d blame Mark. Even if it technically isn’t his fault, you’d still pin the blame on him.

“What’re you gonna do with my body? You wouldn’t be able to lift me, I mean, you couldn’t even open that can of Coke.”

Your cheeks grow warm, mentally replaying the image of a grinning Mark as he effortlessly opened your can of Coke, the soft hiss of its fizz taunting you. Mark had puffed up his chest triumphantly like he was some kind of hero. For crying out loud, he had only opened a can of Coke, not saved his country. It still bruised your pride though, having to ask for help from Mark, your sworn rival since middle school. Childish, you know, but you’re certain that Mark thinks of you as such too.

“Whatever,” you fumble for a name to call him, “nerd.” Mark snickers at you. “My fingers were just slippery.” He arches a brow, challenging you, and you scowl. “I wouldn’t be able to lift you because you’re heavy, fatass. Not because I’m weak.” You twirl a lock of your hair around your finger. “And look who’s talking, Mr. I-Can’t-Open-Doors.”

Mark flushes crimson as he silently fumes. “That was because I was pushing the pull door!”

“That’s even worse, Mark,” you tease, unable to suppress a smile. “Dumbass,” you mumble below your breath, enjoying the way Mark seethes.

“You’re calling me a dumbass? If I remember correctly, I was the one who placed above you last term.” Mark haughtily flips a page in his workbook. “Which I think is why your parents want me to tutor you.”

You throw a measly eraser shaving at Mark in rebuttal. “You know that’s not why I’m here!” Another shaving is thrown at Mark’s head, yet he doesn’t even look up at you. “In fact, your parents probably wanted me here so I could babysit you!”

Neither you or Mark are right. Your parents just chucked you together because they thought that after all those years of living beside one another and having weekly dinners together, you two would be absolutely wonderful buddies, and you can’t fault them for assuming such a thing.

Logically speaking, you and Mark are supposed to be the bestest of friends. As much as you dislike the word, it seems as if fate has decided that you two are meant for each other. Gross.

In almost every situation possible, you and dear Markie boy over here have been unwillingly strung together—from group projects, to assigned seats, you two just can’t get a break from one another.

Your parents had innocently thought that having a little study session while they went out for a double date with Mark’s parents would be beneficial for you two. Perhaps even fun. Fun, your ass.

All those years spent with Mark hasn’t made you friends, no, it’s made you rivals.

Yeah, so not sworn enemies, but what’s life without a little exaggeration?

You’ve always been a bright kid, some would even go as far to say that you’re ‘gifted’, but you think ‘persevering’ is a better word to describe it. You weren’t just born naturally intelligent or outstandingly athletic, no, you’ve had to work hard, insanely hard, for that. It hadn’t been handed to you all nicely wrapped with a little bow to match, just for you to tear it open and take. You’ve had to tolerate and undergo several sleepless nights, and many agonising hours of training.

Up until middle school you were top of your class in all aspects. You were idolised (well, as idolised as you could be for a middle schooler anyway), loved and acknowledged. It had been blissful.

That was until, little Mark with that stupidly cute gleam in his eyes came along, skipping over to you in those worn-out track pants and smiling toothily as he introduced himself as your brand new next door neighbour.

You have to admit, initially, you and him were close friends. You’d walk home together, sneak out to go to the convenience store together, share snacks together, the list goes on. You’d even given Mark your very first kiss, right on the cusp on your twelfth birthday. He didn’t know that it was your first kiss though, and he’ll never know. You’d rather be shot at point blank range than give up such private intel.

But when one day, in seventh grade, when Mark had begun closing in on you in rankings, outrunning you at the park and gradually being everyone’s new favourite, you found yourself isolated. Even one of your friends, a girl with straight long hair that fell past her waist, started hanging out with Mark more than with you.

And when you invited her to your thirteenth birthday, the first thing she’d asked was, “Is Mark going to be there?”

And at that same party, you saw her, kissing the boy you had been crushing on for the past year. And it looked like Mark really enjoyed kissing her too. More than he did with you.

From that point on, you began to distance yourself from Mark. It was gradual, slow, but you knew Mark could tell. When he finally surpassed you academically too, you started harbouring a resentment towards him, and the rivalry between you two started.

You were somewhat hoping he’d confront you, at least wonder why your attitude towards him had seemed to change in the blink of an eye, but he hadn’t. And that stung.

Obviously rumours had circulated in middle school about what was going on between you two. Kids, no, people love to talk. And talk they did.

It had been widely known that you and Mark used to be inseparable at one point in time, and it was jarring seeing how differently you two were acting around each other.

Mark and that friend of yours had broken up some time after that, and evidently she was pissed. It seemed as if she had begun spreading gossip about you, claiming that you had been some sort of psycho ex-girlfriend and that you had threatened Mark to break up with her, essentially, she was villainising you.

When high school finally rolled around, Mark’s ex had moved by then—you weren’t sure where and you didn’t care to know. The rumours eventually died down with her absence, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you and Mark could finally make amends, bury the hatchet, as one would say. But that never happened.

Looking back, you’re a bit amused at what an eventful and dramatic childhood you had. All those scandals at just thirteen? What a boss bitch. Present you would not be able to stomach that.

You take a peek at Mark. He’s attractive. Of course he is. He had been a cute kid, no doubt, but as he’s aged, he’s matured into his good looking features. He’s not the rugged and manly kind of good looking, he’s got more of a sweet boyish look to him, and in your opinion, it adds to his charm.

“What are you staring at?”

Shit, you’ve been caught. No, caught? It’s not like you were doing something you shouldn’t have. “Nothing.” You reach forward to take a sip from the infamous Coke can. It’s lukewarm, but you gulp it down regardless, trying to appear unfazed.

“Were you checking me out?”

Disaster strikes just as those words leave Mark’s lips. The putrid sensation of warm coke leaves your mouth entirely, not because you’ve begrudgingly swallowed it all, but because you’ve spit it out from the sheer shock of Mark’s question.

“Hey! What the fuck?” Mark stands from his chair across from you and its legs scrape against the floor with a sound that makes your skin crawl.

You cough and sputter, gasping for air. Once you’ve gotten past that tight feeling in your throat, you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. A few droplets of the sugary drink dribble onto your shirt. But fortunately, well for you at least, you’re not as drenched in spit-laced Coke as Mark is.

“Shit!” You lift your gaze to look at Mark, who’s surprised, to say the least.

Mark takes a breath to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he clamps his mouth shut, opting to groan in annoyance instead. “Jesus, why’d you even do that?”

Your face burns in embarrassment. No way you’re going to admit to him that you were checking him out. Sort of. “I don’t know, it just went down the wrong channel, I guess.”

Mark’s lips form a thin line of dissatisfaction. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” He cringes as his shirt sticks to him. “ I’m gonna go change.”

He runs a hand through his hair, face upturned in frustration as he stomps up the stairs, his footsteps echoing throughout the living room. Your eyes follow his figure until he turns a left into his room.

You sigh. If you were home alone, you would have screamed in humiliation. The can of Coke on the table mocks you. You resist the urge to pick it up and hurl it into Mark’s neighbour’s backyard—well, your backyard.

A sliver of positivity presents itself in the form of you and Mark’s mostly unscathed worksheets. There are a few stray droplets here and there, but it’s barely noticeable. It would’ve been much worse for both Mark and you if you had drenched those as well. In fact, your homework wouldn’t be drenched in just saliva and Coke, but also in tears at that point.

You curse the can in your grasp, its aluminium smooth against your skin, before you dump it in the bin. Good riddance, bitch.

I should apologise. You can suck up your pride for that. No, this isn’t even about petty things like pride anymore. That shouldn’t matter. I should apologise, you think to yourself firmly.

Alright. Apologising. Sorry. You inhale deeply, gathering your senses and calming your jittery nerves. Why are you even nervous? It’s not like you’re professing your undying love to him. Chill the fuck out.

As you’re standing before Mark’s single, wooden door (which looks extremely daunting for some reason), it doesn’t dawn on you that perhaps you should knock first.

If it had, then perhaps you wouldn’t be staring at a shirtless Mark, your hand still wrapped around his doorknob and your mouth hung agape.

“Oh my God, Mark!” You cover your eyes, the door shutting behind you with a creak. You’re a bit ashamed at how fast your cheeks are overtaken by a hot, prickling feeling. “Why are you naked?”

Mark, though just as startled as you are, has the common sense to reach blindly for the stained shirt he just took off, holding it in front of him. “What do you mean why am I naked? Why are you here?”

You take a few steps back, your back pressed up against the door. “I- I came up here to say I’m sorry. You know, for uh, just now?”

Your hands slowly fall to your sides as you burn holes into Mark’s carpeted floor with your eyes instead.

“Oh, uh, o-okay. Apology accepted, I guess.” Mark’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Let me just uhm—”

You can hear his drawer sliding open and the faint rustle of fabric. All the while you keep your gaze glued to the floor, feeling your cheeks grow warmer by the second. Oh my God, you’re acting like a little girl who’s just held a boy’s hand for the first time.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen a guy naked—for fuck’s sake, Mark’s not even naked. He’s all covered up where he should be. Why is the sight of just his bare body from the waist up making your mind go blank and your palms grow sweaty? It’s not like you have feelings for him anymore. No, you don't.

“You can uh, you can look up now.”

You steel yourself, looking up to face Mark. Why did you have to steel yourself? It’s not like he’d have taken even more clothes off once you looked up again. You feel like slamming your head into the wall.

You fiddle with your fingers, searching for something to say to try and ease the tension. “Uh, sorry. For spilling that Coke all over you, I mean.” You scratch the nape of your neck. “And for you know, walking in on you changing.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

Your shoulders slump. “Huh?”

Mark chuckles confidently, like he’s unabashed. His cheeks are ablaze with colour, though. “I mean, why didn’t you just back out of the room when you walked in on me changing? Why’d you just stand there?”

You blink at him. Why didn’t you just leave? “I- I froze up, okay? Don’t bully me!” Your ears are burning.

“Yeah, okay, okay.” Mark raises his hands by his sides, that entertained smile never leaving his lips. “Let’s go back down, okay? I still need to finish my work.”

You chew on your inner cheek. “Yeah, whatever,” you try to find a creative name to call him.

“Yeah, I know. Nerd.” Mark raises his brows at you, still with that amused grin. You wish you could smack it right off his stupidly handsome face.

You huff, turning on your heel and practically booking it to the stairs. Mark catches up to you in no time with long, languid strides. Stupid long ass legs.

“Hey, wait up, loser,” he says, a hint of delight in his voice. He pokes your side and you jump, shoving his hand away and mustering a weak glare at him. “Oh, are you ticklish?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “No, I’m not, fatass!” Despite your harsh tone, your cheeks deceive you, blossoming with warmth yet again.

Mark smiles genuinely this time, although there’s no sarcastic edge to it whatsoever. “You getting shy?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Hey, don’t be upset!” The next thing Mark says is nearly incomprehensible, but you hear it. Oh, you definitely do.

“You look cute.”

Your head swivels to look back at Mark, and you realise that he hadn’t meant for you to hear that.

The faintest of smiles teases your lips, before you turn away, denying him the satisfaction of seeing you break out into a grin. “Yeah, whatever, Mark.”

Now, it’s Mark’s turn to be enveloped in heat as a red tint spreads across his cheeks.

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dannyphantom-rewrite · 3 years

Text

Character ref for; Jack, Maddie and Jazz,

Art by @gally-hin / @gally-hin-phantom

Okay so first off; in terms of Actual redesign, I didn't change a whole lot. I'm actually very fond of Jack and Maddie's design's, my only real issue was with their proportions. Like...look as a lady person who is also thiCC I do not have a fucking wasp thin waist and I'm sure I'm not the only one, lmao. As for Jack? Godamnit he looked like a brick on toothpicks. Just Let him be a fucking Bara man! Anyway of course I asked Gally to do this one bc they're fucking great at drawing different body types

I also cannot and will not take credit for Jazz's outfit. I didn't have any issue with her canon clothes aside from them being a bit plain, so what she's wearing here was literally pulled straight off of her original concept art, which I will link here.

Anyway, getting to the Actual character lore now, let's start with

Maddie Fenton

-Full name is Madeline (I haven't decided on a maiden name yet)

-Born and raised on a farm in Arkansas, had a southern accent that she trained herself out of in college bc it was just one more reason for people not to take her seriously. Still sometimes uses "y'all" completely unironically bc old habits die hard.

-She has a really big family, and they're proud of her accomplishments but feel like she's wasting her talent studying ghosts, because really, up until the Fenton portal was up and running there wasn't even any solid proof they existed. Her sister Alicia is the one outlier there, and even if she doesn't understand, it she completely supports her.

-She majored in engineering and minored in psychology at Wisconsin EDU. Her, Jack and Vlad were all in the same engineering class, and that's where they met.

-Maddie is particularly interested in how ghosts think, analysing their behavior, their motives. Not only that, but they aren't just dead people with unfinished business, they've built an entire culture in the Ghost Zone that is completely seperate from humanity, and she wants to understand all of it.

-skilled marksman and 9th degree black belt, (which is. The highest fucking level there is holy shit? I looked it up after I saw it on her wiki page.)

Jack Fenton

-He's from Minnesota (Amity park is in Illinois and him and Maddie didn't move there until after they got married)

-okay, "but why minnesota specifically" you ask? Because. I crave. Foot ball discourse.

-minnesota vikings vs green bay packers guys do you UNDERSTAND WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS

-The funny thing is that Jack only watches football casually while Vlad is a fucking die hard so when these two got together to see a game it was like....

-Jack: Here to chill and have a good time.

-Vlad: Primed and ready to start a fist fight at any given moment.

-I am never not going to be salty about how Canon Jack was portrayed like a complete moron 99% percent of the time. Like no...theres a difference between Actual Stupid and ADHD induced dumbass-ery.

-Am I saying Jack Fenton has ADHD? Yes. why? Because I also have ADHD and I have always vibed So Hard with his Character.

-Jack is loud and easily excited about things that interest him. He's impulsive and fidgety and yeah, a bit absent minded. He has a mouth that clearly runs so much faster than his head. His train of thought doesn't get derailed so much as it stops and takes several different detours on the way to it's final destination.

-and that's only the tip of the iceberg, really, I'd need an entire essay to get into this completely, but I just really relate.

-Jacks skill-set / interests regarding ghosts vary a bit from Maddie's, most notably in the sense that he doesn't believe that they're static entities already set in their ways, completely incapable of change.

-Jack majored in engineering and minored in Biology at Wisconsin EDU.

-Jack's work with tech is a bit hit or miss. He definitely HAS the engineering skills, but the intrest isn't always there and he's constantly jumping back and forth between different projects. He tends to focus on the concept work and schematics and leave most of the assembly to Maddie as a result. It's an arrangement that works well for them, and has drastically decreased the number of unintentional explosions in the lab.

-A lot of Jack's work tends to revolve around ghostly biology and Ectoplasm, figuring out how ghosts are made, what makes them tick, what the hell Ectoplasm Actually Is, how it's used as an energy source, ect.

-and yes, that does also mean he handles the dissections.

-See that facial scar? Yeah, that's not actually there at the start of the series rewrite but it's very important for plot reasons so I had to include it. Can't say much more on the subject because SPOILERs owo.

Jasmine Fenton

-Jazz is a 18 years old, and a senior at Casper high.

-Which means she prepping to go away to college and won't be around to keep an eye on Danny.

-Obviously that doesn't mean I'm just writing her out of the story, oh no. Know why? Because she's also gonna go to Wisconsin EDU. ya know who else is in Wisconsin? Fuckin' Vlad.

-Jazz is autistic, Although she passes for neurotypical in part due to symptoms being completely over looked in girls due to gender stereotyping and also the fact that she doesn't have any special interests that are considered " "too weird.""

- Her hyperfixation with psychology started at a young age in an effort to better understand people, and social/emotional cues and all that.

-Jazz is well liked at school but she's not popular or apart of any specific group or clique. She's very kind and compassionate to people, and just about everyone knows her, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually Considered her a friend. Except maybe Spike.

-I'm gonna have to give spike his own Character ref at some point, but he's this scary looking goth kid that's been held back twice. He's actually super sweet, just really fuckin' quiet and anxious. Him and jazz kinda ended up gravitating towards each other. She might do most of the talking, but they look out for each other.

-its not like jazz doesn't try to socialize, but it's difficult and she's found it much easier and less stressful to just. Keep to herself and let her interactions with her peers stay shallow and superficial. Sure, it's lonely sometimes but it's better than constantly worrying about saying the wrong thing or making some other misstep.

-One of Jazz's other special interests is football, and it's not so much the players or the game as it is the strategy of it? Started out as one of those things you do to bond with your dad, and she ended up getting really into it.

-She absolutley winds up getting into stupidly intense discussions with Vlad about it, too, lmao.

-Her and Danny probably bonded over SBNation bc that shit has both sentient satellites and ridiculously complex football mechanics.

-She's completely oblivious to the fact, but Dash has a massive crush on her bc holy shit this girl understands football (hey bud your toxic masculinity is showing put that shit away)

-I mentioned that Danny was in Cheer for a bit in middle school so it makes sense that she'd also be pushed into doing some kind of extracurricular activity.....so.....she was in a martial arts class for a bit thanks to Maddie and has a good grasp on self defense.

I think that's everything? I feel like I'm leaving things out tho? Idk if I did I'll come back and add on to this later and also pls don't hesitate to ask questions bc it really helps me flesh things out better.

#danny phantom #art #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #ref

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mortedeveles · 4 years

Note

AHHH that last mha headcanon was amazing tysm! You did great!!♡♡ Could I ask for another one with the same boys? (baku,tenya & izu!) With a crush who draws a lot? Like maybe they doodle while in class and while on break, 'cause they're bored? And the bois get curious because they're ALWAYS drawing while in the middle of class and they space out! Bonus points if the bois check their notebook and there's dumb doodles of them doing/saying something funny and some with little hearts around them. ^^"

thank you!! of course, anon! here you go, I hope you like it! a friendly reminder that my REQUESTS ARE OPEN! feel free to request lovelies! i’m ready to write for whatever you guys have in mind. i have a project coming up in 1-2 weeks and i think you guys will like it 👁️👁️! i’ll be posting the bonuses of model for me soon enough and a new series (not bakuhoe) will be posted as well! so stay tuned for more <3 as always, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoyed! support and feedback are ALWAYS welcomed! <3

PAIRING: IIDA T. X GN!READER, BAKUGOU K. X GN!READER, TODOROKI S. X GN!READER

THEMES: humor, fluff. [HEADCANNONS]

TW: cursing

IIDA, MIDORIYA, KATSUKI, TODOROKI WITH A DOODLER!CRUSH READER

Frankly, school can be quite boring. Even though you're in the hero course and you learn extraordinary things, it doesn't exclude regular civilian subjects such as history, math and so.

When you lose focus in class, you like to redirect your attention to doodling. It's fun, relaxing and effortless- it's also quite time-consuming and you've spaced out of class many times.

When you space out, you lose the function to pay attention to your reality- and ever since the first day you started doodling in class, you never noticed a pair of curious eyes watching you.

IIDA TENYA

Iida Tenya is quite the gentleman. He's also known for being strict and keeping the chaotic class 1A in order- (well, try and fail many times, but he does his best.) During classes with Aizawa, the majority of the classroom is quiet- but he always hears intense scribbling from your seat.

Usually, he does his best to ignore it and focuses on the class but you're his crush- and the fact that he always hears intense scribbling every day is quite concerning. But one day, he can't take it anymore.

It's a hot and sweltering day, it doesn't help that class 1A just finished hero training and even though everyone hit the showers afterward- the classroom is boiling.

Iida's neck is drenched in sweat, Aizawa's flat and tired voice drones on and he hears furious scribbling behind him- it's all giving him a headache.

Slowly, he turns around and stares blankly at you. Your head is lowered, hand sketching in your notebook. Your movements are fluid and bold and your arm is propped lazily on the desk, leaning your head against it.

He feels his nerves calm at the sight. But then he remembers that he's class president- you're not paying attention in class and that is not okay. Iida opens his mouth and delivers a long speech. Tenya is strict- but he's not stupid- he lowers his voice so he won't embarrass you in front of the class.

After his long speech, he expects you to look sullen or simply understand where he's coming from- but instead, you're snickering with a smile.

''I'm sorry, Iida. I just space out of class all the time and I like to doodle,'' there's a playful pout on your lips, a pleading look gleaming in your eyes.

Oh god, how is he supposed to reprimand you when you look so cute and adorable?

His voice is stuck in his throat- there's a flushed expression on his face and it only gets worse when Aizawa's voice booms.

''Iida, if you're done with your important chat with L/N, turn around and pay attention. You're class president, I expect better from you.''

Iida nearly squeaks as he turns around and nods, apologizing several times. Aizawa simply sighs tiredly and resumes the lesson.

After that time, Iida spots you doodling all the time in class. It makes him concerned- do you even pay attention in class? Are your grades failing?

Eventually, he confronts you about and explains his concerns. His face is beet red when he's done, but you simply brush him off with a smile.

Assuring him that your grades and knowledge are in perfect order, you simply doodle a lot in class. After that confrontation, Iida is much more relaxed about the situation, and every time he sees you doodle, there's a soft smile on his lips.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Midoriya is a very observant person. He has dozens of notebooks dedicated to quirks, Pro Heroes, and so on and while he doesn't write about his friends- he tends to notice several things.

For example, you. Since you began to attend U. A with Izuku, he's noticed that you spend most of your time sketching, doodling god knows what. You've never shown him your artwork.

Another thing he's realized is that when you start doodling- only Aizawa's loud voice or the school bell will snap you out of it. Izuku's tried everything- waving his hands in your face, throwing you paper balls- nothing. It's like you've been sucked out of reality..

Your manners leave him interested, curious to know more. He's sure you're not slacking off in class- he's been in several study sessions with Tsuyu, Iida, Ochaco, Todoroki, and you- you're always on track and usually have a good grasp of the subject.

You rarely share your notes- only with Tsuyu and Iida and occasionally Todoroki.

Midoriya doesn't mind, but it makes him burn with curiosity. So on the next studying session, he decides to come up with a plan.

''Y/N, what did you get on question 43?'' Ochaco asked. She leaned towards said girl and giggled.

Izuku frowned. What was so funny? The brunette's grin grew as she stared down at Y/N's notes, who was stammering and trying to hide their notes from the public view.

When Ochaco and Y/N rose and said they needed to visit the restroom- Izuku struck. Tsuyu was chatting with Todoroki and Iida had his nose buried in his book- so they didn't notice when he grabbed your notebook.

He flicked through pages, greedily drinking in the sight of your doodles. They were all varied- some flowers, vines, others were small and cute animals- and others were more complex but in the end, doodles. Midoriya froze when he flipped through a page and saw a... peculiar sight.

In the middle of the page, was a heart. You had doodled several headshots of Izuku, in which some of them he was saying corny or bad jokes, and in others, he was simply smiling. His cheeks burned when he saw the small hearts that you had doodled around him.

When he heard your voice and footsteps approaching the dorm- he quickly dropped your notebook in your spot and tried to act casual. Tsuyu raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing, while Todoroki asked him why his face was burning.

He had refused to answer and remained somewhat silent during the rest of the session, his cheeks red. His heart was soaring with happiness- those doodles only meant one thing- you had feelings for him.

Once the studying session was over, Izuku would pull you aside and confess his feelings. His veins were pumping with confidence- you liked him back!

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Ever since you befriended Katsuki, he's noticed that you're a very attentive friend.

That is when you're not in class. You submerge yourself into your notebook with a pencil and nothing else- and pour all your attention into it.

Bakugou thinks it's rather annoying, he's tried to get your attention several times, only to fail miserably.

Today is no exception. Bakugou's ready to pop- dunceface and shitty head have been bothering him all day, stupid Deku gave a speech that made him roll his eyes and he was tired and just wanted to go to bed.

Unfortunately, he found himself stuck in class, listening to Aizawa talk like a damn zombie- trying to grab your attention, but you were too immersed in your doodles.

Irritated, he pressed his sweat hand on your neck and ignited a small spark- not enough to hurt you, but enough to startle you. The effect was immediate. You yelped and snapped your neck upwards, clutching the back of your neck. Everyone stared at you, bewildered. Katsuki grinned, satisfied that he finally got your attention but when you realized it was him- you narrowed your eyes and scowled.

''Bakugou? L/N? What's going on?'' Aizawa asked sharply.

Your scowl deepened. ''Everything is okay, Aizawa-sensei. I apologize.'' Your eyes stayed on Bakugou as you spoke.

Aizawa hummed in response and continued with the lesson. Bakugou bit down on his lip, swallowing a snicker.

After class, you smacked Bakugou on the head, to which he responded with a growl and the two of you engaged in a match of playful fighting, and between snickers and lunges your notebook fell out of your open backpack, loose sheets slipping out.

Immediately, you jumped back and began to gather them, but Bakugou kneeled down and helped you as well. He froze as he held a loose sheet- there were several sketches of him with different expressions- in some, he was smirking, frowning or screaming- but that wasn't what made him freeze. It was the several little hearts that you had doodled around him.

You nearly shrieked when you saw which paper he was holding and snatched it out of his hands. In a blink of an eye, you had picked everything up and ran away.

Katsuki was puzzled. He stood there for a minute or two, gears shifting in his brain as he processed the situation. Once it finally kicked in, he raced after you and found you sitting in a corner, head buried between your knees.

''Um,'' he cleared his throat awkwardly. ''Hey.'' his voice was gruff and tense.

You groaned and shook your head. ''Go away, Bakugou. I know you don't like me, so just spare me from the harsh rejection.''

''What?'' he furrowed his eyebrows and kneeled to your height. ''What the fuck are you talking about? That's not true.''

Slowly, you raised your head and peered at him, narrowing your eyes with suspicion. ''It's not?''

Bakugou scoffed. ''Of course not. I like you too, dumbass,'' he grumbled the last sentence, feeling his ears and cheeks warm up.

''Oh.'' was all you said. The blonde snickered and pulled you upwards onto your feet.

''C'mon dumbass, I'll walk you home. Gotta keep you safe.''

(bonus extra!)

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Shoto is clever and can improvise quickly- but he can be quite dense or oblivious at times. He probably wouldn't notice your doodling habits and if he did, he would brush it off. You're just doodling in class, nothing too fancy.

He doesn't understand how far your doodling goes until he asks you to lend him your math notes after class, and you happily oblige.

Shoto spends the rest of the afternoon studying and writing down whatever he missed- all thanks to your notes that were thankfully complete.

Once he was sure he'd done enough studying, Todororki began to flip through your notes idly, appreciating your writing. The more he read, the more he realized that there were doodles...everywhere.

He thought it was quite impressive that you managed to doodle so much in class and your artistic skills were quite impressive. There was a variety of sketches- plants, animals, silly faces but the ones he saw the most, were the ones of him.

Shoto felt a strange flutter whenever he saw one of your doodles that were him. You captured him perfectly and he cracked a grin whenever he saw one in which he was saying a corny or silly joke. It was refreshing.

It made his heart warm, seeing that his crush seemed to be as fond of him as he was of them. I don’t think he’d truly understand why you would draw him several times and instead, would ask you for an explanation.

The next day, he made sure to thank you for lending him your notes- and for making such beautiful and impressive doodles.

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scriptaed · 4 years

Text

bygones of the sun. 02 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 5.0k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

a/n: a repost of my old fic!

“Drop him, girl, drop him! You’re too good for him!”

The glaring television screen blares throughout the small confinement of your living room, filling the already rowdy space with the drama you and your friends would specifically gather in your house to watch every Wednesday night. With soft cotton blankets draping over the three pairs of bare legs and two buckets of popcorn laying in your laps, Hani and Junghwa would constantly shrill on the top of their lungs along with you, screaming and squirming from over excitement or flutters incited by a man on the other side of the screen whom they claim to have established an emotional connection with. And while you have always appreciated their crucial role in your daily life, tonight—along with the past several days since then—is just one of those nights where you want to be left alone.

Junghwa’s squealing comes to a gradual silence when Hani nudges her elbow with darting, wide eyes, hinting at her friend to quiet down before you did anything more than shoot her a death glare. Just half an hour into the episode and you can already tell that the main character’s position ever so conveniently coincided with your own as Junghwa continues to scream out words of encouragement to the woman on the other side of the screen, completely unaware of how her insults can also easily align with your situation. And even though you would usually be screaming along with your dear friends, heart clenching and fists forming at the growing anger elicited by the bad boy of the story, now that you are finally experiencing it for yourself—maybe not so much as dating a bad boy, but rather personally knowing one from your very own eyes—you can certainly go without any reminders of the revelating night which still burns every second in the back of your consciousness.

“O-oh,” Junghwa gaped, mouth hanging wide open as she stares at you with a blank expression that shows she only just understood why Hani was urging her to stop. Hani only presses her lips into a disappointing frown and places her hands to the forehead of her shaking head. The rare silence between you and Junghwa becomes overbearing to her as she bats her eyes in panic over how the unamusement in your stare grows within each second. The corner of her lips suddenly shoot up when she releases a nervous laugh and pats your arm in reassurement, “y-you too, Y/N… you should forget about Ho—” her eyes pop out when she notices the quirk of your brow “—I mean... him. You’re too good for someone as immature as him. Who even plays truth or dare in college? Haha, I mean, even if someone dared me to play around with a guy, I wouldn’t—”

“Alright,” Hani interrupts with a forced smile, tilting her head to peer at you from across the now silenced Junghwa, “let’s just switch the channel. We can always catch up on the episodes later.”

“No, it’s fine,” you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head and lightly flicking your friend’s arm. Junghwa winces at your gesture before pouting and leaning into the couch on her left, grabbing Hani’s arm and glaring at you in vengeance. “It’s not a big deal anyways. It’s not like I was even dating him. I’m fine, I promise… it’s just that someone seems to want to rub some salt in my wounds.”

Hani cackles, stroking Junghwa’s head with her left hand and patting her arm with her right, “alright, if you say so. You sure you don’t want to change the channel? The show isn’t that exciting anyways. We can probably predict half the things she’s going to do. The bad boy is going to fall in love with her because she’s weak and fragile and apparently guys like that, then she’s going to fall for him because he treats her differently than the rest. And then, bam! They’re together and happy for the rest of eternity, right?”

You scrunch your brows at her quick yet accurate synopsis, “I mean I guess—”

“Good! So that means we can switch the channel then,” she picks up the remote and flips to the next available channel only to have it stolen from you when you lean across a screaming Junghwa and snatch the remote from Hani.

“Hani, I know you’re just trying to do what you think is the best for me, but I’m fine! I promise,” you laugh, giving her a strained, lopsided smile. “See? Smiling like always. Who cares about boys? They’re all liars anyways.”

Your two friends only lean away from you and against the couch’s armrest, blankly blinking eyes and pressing lips in the shape of a questioning frown as they raise their brows quizzically at the validity of your ‘fine’ state; because to them, every single word you managed to muster out that night were only filled with disdain, spite, and regret over the boy whom you constantly cursed at and nicknamed an asshole after that night over the phone.

But as much as you attempt to cross your arms over your chest and keep a poker face over the countless dumb decisions the main character makes in the following few minutes, you can’t help but constantly flip your phone over to check if any new messages had been left magically without its usual buzz. Turning the phone over, you would click the home button only to find the screen empty of any new notifications. You would then sigh, attempting to ignore the sinking of your chest when you internally remind yourself: of course he wouldn’t message you first. He hasn’t messaged you in days since that night you stormed out of his car and into your house without further explanation, the cold tension remaining as the last conversation held between you and him.

Unfortunately for you, your friends suspicions of your true condition are confirmed by the constant spiels which tumbles from your lips every ten seconds.

“That’s the dumbest thing you could do! He’s a changed man, and you know that! Why are you going after him?! Dump him, you dumbass!” you scream, huffing out in anger and grabbing your pillow as though you are about to toss it at the girl on the screen.

Hani and Junghwa stare at you with wide eyes, horrified by your outburst which never seems to end along with your limitless energy.

“He’s a liar,” you groan, kicking your legs onto the coffee table before you and sighing out your baited breath. “He’s probably only staying with you now because his friends told him to.”

“You make the first move,” you hear Junghwa hiss to Hani, who only repeats her words back at her, but you’re too mentally and emotionally occupied by the thoughts roaming your own mind to even care.

God, Hoseok is such an asshole. The more you think about it, the more your blood fuels with anger. You were the victim—the target—of a stupid dare? And to make it worse, you actually believed for a second that Hoseok—Jung Hoseok, one of the most sought after boys of your school—actually liked you enough to ask you out on a date? But what frustrates you to the ends of your bones isn’t your stupidity or your proneness to fall victim to such child’s play, but instead, it’s the fact that Hoseok, the sweetheart you once knew and loved, actually took the dare seriously enough to attempt to fulfill it; he went out that night on a mission to fool you, to play with your heart, and to trample all over it if you hadn’t found out through Junghwa. He was out to manipulate you like the fool you are, to wrap you around the tips of his fingers, and to play you like another one of the countless girls whom must have become one of his many puppets.

And even though it pained you with the constrictions of your chest, the dryness of your knotted throat, and the emptiness of your churning stomach the couple of days following that night, now you’re just a pile of turmoil and raging anger waiting to throw your hands at the person who had taken over the dreamlike dance captain you currently regret to your very guts for not taking a leap of faith into the sun and approaching him on the day he had invited you over. You want explanations to his whereabouts, and maybe you’re not qualified enough to receive explanations to such personal matters which held no form of relation to the person who purposely avoided him in the past year, but at the very least, you deserve an apology for that night.

“Y/N… are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Hani gently suggests as Junghwa places a hand on your knee and bobs her head agreeingly, worriedly watching the clenching of your jaw and the burning flames in your darkened eyes. “Sometimes it helps us to talk about things we don’t want to talk about. It’ll help us move on.”

“Not saying that you haven’t moved on, of course,” Junghwa quickly adds.

After raising a brow at Junghwa’s nervous laugh, you take a deep breath and sigh. “Fine. I just… I don’t know what there is to say. I guess I’m hurt after being used like that, like I’m some sort of game you can just win over, but I’m more so appalled that Hoseok would do such a thing…? I’ve never known him, sure, but I know he’s not like that. The boy I met wouldn’t have ever dared to play around with a girl’s feelings. Dance was his sole purpose. He was so passionate about it. And now… he pretends he doesn’t even remember his own past.”

“Ah… you miss seeing your old crush, huh?” Junghwa purses her lips and nods her head in acknowledgement. “I guess he was a lot more likeable back then, not saying that he isn’t smoking hot right now because he is, but now that he’s doing all of this because of a simple game of dignity, I don’t think I would see him the same way either.”

“Do you really think he did it because of a dare though? He might be a player, but even that seems a bit… much?” Hani frowns, furrowing her brows in thought.

You shrug, “we heard that he was doing it in order to gain the attention of the last dance captain.”

“He wanted to use you to make her jealous?” Hani’s eyes popped in shock.

“I guess,” you mutter and sigh once again. “I’m not sure which one’s worse.”

“Have you confronted him about it? Are you sure it’s true?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him if he really does like Keiko. Have you seen her? She’s gorgeous and she’s so down to earth,” Junghwa says in awe before snapping back to reality when Hani shoots her a death glare. She quickly turns to look at you, patting your shoulder with a smile, “you’re gorgeous too, Y/N. But maybe he’s into the dance type.”

“Alright, you two are just roasting me tonight. I just want to get some sleep and sort things out myself,” you huff, about to get up from the couch when Junghwa leaps herself at you and hugs you tight.

“I’m sorry, Y/N! You know I really didn’t mean it that way!”

Hani only laughs at the sight before her as you groan and pick up your phone, a habit which has become instinctive to you, checking for any new messages.

And to your surprise, there is one.

“Please stop checking your phone for his texts, Y/N! It hurts my heart to see you like this! He’s a player, he’s not going to text first! You deserve better people than him!” Junghwa cries out in plea for you to forgive her careless remarks.

She holds you even tighter as you stare at your screen in shock. You keep staring at the glaring screen, scanning the text message over and over again because you can’t believe it. He actually left a message, and to your dismay and surprise, your heart is actually pounding in excitement—in longing—for the boy who had broken your trust. And just like Junghwa says, you keep reminding yourself that you deserve more than him.

Hobi [9:34 pm] Are you home? We need to talk things over. I know something happened between us that night, and unlike you, I actually want to sort things out. I’ll be there in five.

Ah, so he’s either still upset over your sudden change in attitudes that night or your sudden mention of his past experience with dance—either way, the piercing sensation of your heated chest is undeniable when you read the passive aggressive tone of his message.

“What is it?” Hani carefully asks, and suddenly, Junghwa’s tight gripping and tugging releases from your hips.

“Don’t tell me he texted you,” she deadpans.

“We need to go,” you mumbled under your breath and they widen their eyes as a double take. Getting up from the couch, you quickly turn off the television and grab their hands to usher them out the front door. “He’s coming in five minutes. We need to go now.”

“Why is he coming?” Junghwa calls out in worry, looking at you over her shoulder.

“I don’t know. He wants to talk about how our date ended or something,” you blurt out and hastily grab a purse before swinging it over your gray sweatshirt and sweatpants. Opening the front door, you’re stuffing your feet into the shoes when Hani places her hand on you to halt your hasty actions.

“Don’t you want to talk things over with him?” she calmly questions. “You should get things clarified, or you’re never going to move on. Maybe he’s not as bad as you think.”

“I don’t want to get things clarified, Hani. I just want to forget about him as soon as possible. Seeing him will only make me angrier,” you shake your head.

“That doesn’t seem to align with you constantly checking your phone tonight,” Junghwa quips. “I agree with Hani. You should at least have closure. Or at least you can tell him off before you end things with him.”

You quirked a brow, “...are you sure?”

“Positive. And if you ever need us to jump in, just send us a quick text,” Hani smiles and Junghwa enthusiastically nods.

Taking a deep breath, you sigh in agreement before quickly pushing them out the door, “okay, then you two need to leave.”

“Wow, I’ve never been kicked out of a house faster than now,” Junghwa retorts as your two friends laugh along with you.

“Oh my God, is that his car? I thought he said five minutes!” Hani gapes. “Good luck, Y/N! C’mon, Junghwa, let’s run.”

What? He’s here already?

Slightly opening the door behind you, you peep through the small slit to find Hoseok’s familiar black vehicle coming to a gradual stop on your driveway. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you spot sight of his familiar brown hair, the darkened eyes of his that meant business causing you to leap and shut the door behind you. Your heart is pounding so loudly and roughly against the small confinements of your chest that you swear it’s echoing in your now silent house. Your hands are shaking, your lips are quivering, and your knees become weak with each footstep of his which lightly skid against the concrete of your front porch, each one becoming more and more audible when they finally come to a halt just a few feet behind you.

God, you should’ve stayed in the college dorms—otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to so easily walk up to your house at whatever time he pleases like this.

A series of firm knocks echo in the front entrance of your house, the vibrations sending waves across your back and down your spine as you lay with your back pressed up against the door. Whirling around, you take a deep breath to calm your seemingly unstoppable rapid pace of breathing. After mustering up enough courage, you peek through the peephole only to be met with Hoseok’s fish eyed pupils, causing you to jump back and yelp in surprise.

“Y/N, I know you’re there. I saw you while parking in your driveway,” Hoseok lowly chuckles. “Might as well open up now.”

“W-what if I don’t want to?” you stutter, placing your fumbling hands over the cold doorknob.

“Well, I guess I’d just have to tell the whole school we’re dating,” he chimes as though it’s not a big deal to him at all. Of course it’s not a big deal to him, he’s been with plenty of girls before and the rest of the school doesn’t need a second reminder of that fact. “I’m counting down now. In 3… 2…”

You whip open the door and give him the dirtiest glare you can give, huffing and puffing when you managed to stop him from ruining your reputation along with his already ruined one.

Hoseok’s lips clam shut the second you open the border between the two of you. One corner of his lips lift as he leans against the wall and buries his hands into his pockets.

“I see you really don’t want to be associated with me, huh?” he quips.

“No, not after what you did to me that night,” you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest.

He quirks a brow questioningly, “and what exactly did I do that night?”

The slick strands of hair hovering before his forehead tell you he came here right after a shower, the thought causing heat to rise to your cheeks and your stomach to shelter unwanted butterflies. His dark brown eyes and his soft, red lips match perfectly with his tan, smooth skin which ever so slightly glows in reflection of the dim light within your house. You’re just about to melt in his darkening, warm gaze when you snap yourself out of it and remind yourself that looks are quite deceiving; he may look like the boy you had fallen for before, but he surely doesn’t act like him.

“Oh, quit playing dumb,” you roll your eyes after a few seconds of silence.

“I might appear dumb to you, but I can tell you for sure, I can read most girls like the back of my hand. But with you? I don’t have a single idea of what’s going on in that head of yours,” he retorts, leaning off the wall and shifting his weight onto the other leg. “Maybe if you actually told me what I did wrong, or whatever the hell happened that night, then maybe I’d understand and be able to apologize or fix things.”

“And why do you care? Do you actually want to fix things? Do you actually like me enough to apologize?”

Hoseok frowns at the harsh edges of your tone, brows knitting and lips pressing shut as he stares at you for a few seconds and ponders—no, calculates—what he should do next.

He sighs, running a hand through his slightly damp hair, “I don’t get it. Of course I want to fix things—”

“You’re lying,” you snap. “You only took me out on a date because you were dared to.”

His eyes lift from the ground to stare at yours; judging by the way his eyes neither crease in confusion nor widen in shock, he must have figured this all along. Instead, he’s calm and collected as if he’s done this thousands of times before, and that very fact causes a drop in your stomach. Just how much more of an ass can he be?

You take in a shaky breath, about to make your next theory on the rumor between his crush on the previous dance captain, when words tumble from his lips that renders you silent.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” you narrow your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats this time but a bit louder.

He’s gazing into your eyes, locked and firm, confident and alluring, and every bit of you is reminding you that he’s probably done this hundreds of times before and that it’s just a front he puts on to trick countless girls, and yet you can’t help but believe there’s nothing but sincerity in his eyes. What is it about those chocolate hues which entices you and spins you around like the fool you are? Is it the past crush you see in them, or is it the bad boy you see now?

“I know I hurt you, and I really wasn’t planning on contacting or bothering you any further after that night, but I was worried after that argument. It’s a bad decision made on my part. I’m sorry,” he calmly apologizes, voice deep and velvety that you can’t believe how casual he’s acting. “I should’ve at least not have been so obvious.”

You scoff at his last words, raising your brows in question, “or maybe you shouldn’t have done it in the first place?”

“Right,” he lets out a small laugh, the corner of his lips lifting into a smug smirk.

“Are you serious?” you exasperate. “This is the type of apology you’re going to give me? A simple ‘sorry’ and that’s it?”

“What else do you want me to do?” he furrows his brows, shooting you an intense stare that even causes you to nearly jump back. “I said sorry and I was just joking about being so obvious, so what else do you want?”

“That’s a dumb joke! At least try to look serious when you’re apologizing!”

“Alright, I’m sorry! I’m serious when I say I know it was the wrong thing to do. I’m just… not in my right mind at the moment. I wanted to prove to myself…” he mumbles his last words, voice trailing off into an inaudible volume until his eyes lift from the ground and his voice suddenly rises once again, “it’s not like you caught feelings from that one night anyways. Why’re you so worked up?”

You bite your bottom lip, holding back every urge in you to prove him wrong, because the tug of your heart and the aching of your chest which no words can adequately describe prove the pain he has caused you since that night… because truth be told, you have fallen for him—whether it be the old Hoseok or the current Hoseok, you don’t know and you don’t want to know.

“It’s because you treated me like a toy. You think I’m so gullible? You think I don’t know what you’re doing? I’m not like the other girls you’ve played with before, Hoseok. I’ve heard of the things you do to others.”

“I’m sure you have,” he retorts, a quirk of the brow tugging on your heartstrings. “In fact, it seems like you know more than you let on. And that’s the second reason why I’m here. How do you know that I used to dance?”

You nibble on your bottom lip and remain silent.

Are you supposed to tell him the truth? That you are that one girl who promised to join the club? That one girl whom seemed to have such a strong, instant connection to the charismatic dance captain? No, you don’t want to tell him, not the current Hoseok. That secret remains between the two of you—between you and the past boy, not him.

“What’s the matter? Cat’s got your tongue?” he scoffs.

“I just… heard. It’s impossible not to hear of you,” you mumble.

He quirks a brow at the implications of your statement, letting out a laugh and averting his eyes only to dart back at you. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve ‘heard’ yet, but that Hoseok is long gone. Don’t ever mention it again in front of me; it annoys me to death.”

You frown, because is he really speaking ill of the past him? The one that you so utterly miss and would much rather prefer to spend your time with than the person before you?

“There won’t be another chance for me to mention it anyways. I don’t plan on seeing you again,” you huff. “And how could you say that? The past Hoseok I knew—heard of is much more likable than you. How dare you?”

“How dare I? How dare I condemn my own past? That’s who I am, Y/N. That Hoseok is my own persona, and whether you like it or not, it’s me. And it’s gone for good,” he deadpans. “So quit searching for something that’s not there.”

You tighten your grip around the doorknob that you swear it’s become pale because your hands become numb and all blood circulation cuts off from your fingers. As much as he’s right, he gets to control who he chooses himself and his past self to be, you’re too much in denial, too much in longing over the past that you once failed to grasp and now you can’t seem to pull yourself out of it.

“Get out. Just leave. I don’t want to hear you or see you anymore,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Good,” he stares at you, all expression but irritation extracted from his face. “This whole thing was a mistake anyways. I don’t want to talk to someone who doesn’t even respect me.” He steps back, whirling around and strolling down your driveway to open the door to his car.

“Maybe I’m not deserving of your respect,” you yell out at him, “but at least respect your old self, because he’s much more deserving of it than you!”

Hoseok pauses before entering his car, scoffing at your remark, a bittersweet, lopsided smile plastering over his face. “That’s the funny thing, sweetheart, because he’s the last person who deserves my respect.”

And without another word, he drives off into the distance, leaving you angered and trampled over in a mess of both confusion and heartache. At least now you know that this person, this Jung Hoseok, is for sure a different boy than you so secretly wished he was.

The next day comes and you’re walking down the familiar halls you used to attempt to casually stroll through before peeking at the boy in the dance room when this time around, another person comes out reaching for your arm.

“Hey, you’re the girl dating Hobi, right?” someone hushes and you look to your right with wide eyes to find the second most renowned member of the dance club, Park Jimin.

“What’re you saying? No, no way!” you scrunch your nose in disgust, retracting his grip from your arm.

“Oh, maybe you got the wrong person Jimin,” the other boy beside him, Jeon Jungkook, mutters.

“No way, I’ve seen them walking around in the theater the other day. He was for sure flirting with her…”

You roll your eyes as they continue their discussion right before you. “You probably made a mistake. I know of Jung Hoseok, but I’m not close to him.”

“Well, whatever your relation with him is, can you please help us out?” Jimin begs, clapping his hands together and pleading you with a pout.

“I can’t help you. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know who you are or why you’re asking me, but I can’t help!” you throw your hands up and attempt to walk away when they run after you.

“Can you please just convince him to come back,” Jungkook joins his friend on his mission. “Just tell him that we need him because Namjoon and Jin are dying without his help!”

You look over their backs to find a tall, tan boy and his other broad shouldered friend stumbling over their own footsteps. “I don’t know how I can do that. We’re on bad terms.”

“Just… just send the message! Please, you’re the only one who can! The rest of his friends just ignore us,” Jimin takes your hands in his and shakes it side to side. “Please!”

Having enough of their pleas, you press your lips into a forced smile and nod your head. “Okay, okay! Just let go of me, I don’t even know you well enough! I’ll help you out!”

“Really?!” the two of them nearly yell. “Thank you so much…”

“...Y/N.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N! We promise we’ll make it up to you!” they chime before cheering and running back to the dance room. “Promise you’ll relay our message, okay? Thanks again!”

And just like that, they disappear into their room and you’re left with yet another damn reason to find that asshole whose name still cuts you deep. Groaning at their request, you march your way down the hall only to find Junghwa and Hani huddled, occasionally throwing worried glances towards the end.

“Hey,” you grumble.

They spin around and stare at you wide eyed, stepping forward as though to cover whatever is behind them. “Oh, hey, Y/N! How was your day?”

“My day? It literally just started…” you frown, leaning to the side to take a quick peek at whatever they’re hiding. Unfortunately, and partially fortunately, for you, Hoseok is ever so conveniently chatting with his friends just a few feet down the hall. The way your heart nearly jumps out of your chest at a mere glance of his charming looks just incites an internal scream from you, your gut wrenching in both anger and pain from your last conversation with him when you give yourself one last reason to associate yourself with him. Just one more message and you’re done. Completely done. “Hey, Hoseok—”

—but just as you call out to him, his eyes dart over to you as he gives you a glare and quickly looks away back to his friends. Similar to your own friends, the boys surrounding him quirk their brows and nudge at him, “hey, I think she called for you. Did something happen between the two of you? Did she find out about the dare? Maybe you should apologize to her…”

You’re about to storm over to him and give him a piece of your mind, but his next words only causes your willpower to come up short.

“I don’t have anything to apologize for,” he scoffs before walking off into the hall.

391 notes · View notes

clearsky · 3 years

Text

My Top Comfort Characters/Kins and My Main HCs For Them

(Note, not all my kins/comfort characters are on here, just the ones I have more than 5 hcs for)

CW: Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3), Himiko Yumeno (DRV3), Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA), Kyoko Kirigiri (THH), Tsuyu Asui (BNHA), Entrapta (Spop), Ibuki Mioda (SDR2), Celestia Ludenberg (THH), Funtime Foxy (FNAF), Peril (WOF)

Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3)

Nonbinary

He/They pronouns

Autistic

Chains and loose accessories are for stimming

Likes the feeling of silk and cotton

Can't stand the feeling of anything rough or bumpy

He likes collecting small trinkets and the bones of small mammals

Can't stand anything salty. He'll eat it but he certainly won't enjoy it

Dating Rantaro

Can flirt, but only if he doesn't try

Petnames are a hell yea

Gets sunburnt really easily

Group dates with Celesnaegiri and Ikuzono

Can't cook for s h i t

Had a scene kid phase in middle school

Went to the same middle school as Celeste and Maki

Knew them when Celeste went through her "I'm not like other girls" phase and Maki was a Band Kid™

Himiko Yumeno (DRV3)

Female

She/Her pronouns

Lesbian

Can force herself to fall asleep within seconds regardless of where she is

100% forces herself to fall asleep when she doesn't wanna listen/talk to someone

Himiko/Angie/Tenko relationship. I'm calling them the Traffic Light Trio

She likes taking naps in the forest

She prefers enclosed/tight spaces more than open ones

Has several hundred stress balls and squishies laying around

She overheats easy

Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA)

Questioning his gender, but goes by any pronouns

Knows he's Asexual, at least

Has no clue what his romantic orientation is though

The kind of person to carry treats in his pocket just in case he runs into a cat

Will stop to pet literally every cat he comes across

Great at reading people

Doesn't talk unless it's 100% needed

Hangs with Tokoyami, Jirou, and Denki most often

Aizawa has 100% unofficially adopted him

Fosters kittens

Not a big fan of physical touch

He is 100% in the bakusquad. Anyone who says he's in the Dekusquad is a c o w a r d

He and Tsuyu vibe

Knows a bunch of random facts

Dark humour? Dark humour

*skates backwards into his therapist's room slowly sipping from an absurdly huge cup of coffee* Candice you're not gonna BELIEVE the shit I just went through

In case I forgot to mention it, he skates

Kyoko Kirigiri (THH)

Mtf

She/Her

Bi with female preference

Burns go up to her shoulders/collarbone/chest

Prefers to just listen as opposed to saying anything

Knows a ton of random trivia about everyone else in her class

She keeps a notebook she fills with all the trivia

Doesn't celebrate her birthday. She just doesn't see the point of it

Doesn't hate sugar/sweets, but if given the choice she would choose literally everything else

Cuts her own hair

A cat person

Permanent dark circles

T-Tall 😳

Like,,, 6'1 at LEAST

Only person taller than her is Yasuhiro (6'3)

Canon no longer exist

Ahahaha healthy life habits? What are those?

Can't handle horror games

She's the kind of person you'd go to if you needed to rant but didn't want any advice

Polyamourous yo

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

She's a dom yall are just scared to admit it

Tsuyu Asui (BNHA)

They go by They/Them

Lesbian

They and Ochaco are dating

They like to hang with Shinsou

Which mainly just means the two sitting in one of their dorms in near total silence doing whatever

Can speak English and French as well as Japanese

Learned English from cartoons

Picked up French bc they thought it'd be fun

Prefers to stay neutral in the whole Bakusquad / Dekusquad thing

They're invited to all outings/events by/for both squads

They like puns

They're a dumbass but willingly, and for fun

Like "someone says they like dark humour and they'll turn off the lights before telling a joke" kind dumbass for fun

Great at poker

Likes Disney Movies

Very touchy once you get close enough

Not in a sexual way, just likes physical contact

Especially fond of piggyback rides and cuddles

Extreme fear of needles

Entrapta (She-Ra)

She/Her or It/Its

Doesn't bother trying to figure out whether she's cis, trans, nonbinary, or what

Was AMAB though

Short as fuck (4'7)

Strong as fuck though

Cuddle game strong

Physical touch is a fuck yes

Cuddles

Piggyback rides

Hugs

Anything where she's touching someone is wonderful in her book

As long as she's the one that initiates it

Anyone else touching her without her permission makes her freak

Prefers being high up

Makes it harder for anyone to sneak up on her

An ace at video games

When it comes to sexuality she just says she's Questioning

Ibuki Mioda (SDR2)

Any pronouns + Pup/Pupself + It/Its

No idea what their gender is otherwise

Biromantic Asexual

Just likes sexual jokes

Gets distracted easily

Has severe hearing problems

She's plays her instruments as loud as possible, with the amp right next to her, without ANY ear protection

It's caused some damage

She talks so loud bc she has no idea how loud is considered acceptable

Wears hearings aids most of the time

Several piercings and tattoos

Likes hearing things jingle

She has a bracelet with a few bells hanging from it

She'll shake it whenever she's bored

LOVES hair accessories

Ribbons are a particular favourite

Occasionally she'll hang little charms from her hair "horns"

The kind of person who never takes any pills/medicine bc she keeps forgetting she has to

Frequently uses emojis

Skates everywhere but she isn't very good at it

She keeps crashing into everything

Has broken every bone in her body at least 3 times

Most of which was bc she keeps trying to kick in doors and skating down the stairs

Celestia Ludenberg (THH)

Nonbinary

Any pronouns, mainly goes by She/They

Bi, 70:30

Collects mini hand sanitizers and can tabs

Has single handedly gotten Mario Kart, Mario Party, Monopoly, Uno, and Clue banned a grand total of 17 times (and counting)

The kind of person to purposefully target someone regardless of what game was being played

Favourite victim is Byakuya (bc he gets so upset about it and she finds that hilarious)

Mains Waluigi

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

Has several banned Twitter accounts bc whenever she's bored she'll start discourse on purpose

Hangs with Korekiyo, Ibuki, Byakuya, Yasuhiro, and Leon most often

It's a weird friend group but everyone's sorta gotten used to it

She and Byakuya gamble together occasionally

She tries to avoid it bc he'll willingly blow his entire fortune in an attempt to beat her

Autustic

Can't stand the feeling of water

Mainly bc she can't swim for shit

Horror movies? Hates them

Gets flustered super easily

Taka is her twin brother

Kotoko, Kokichi, and Gundham are their half siblings (Same father)

Peko and Toko are their cousins

She sucks ass at go fish

Fuck canon she's 4'11 now

C h u b b y

Freckles

Once she gets comfortable enough with herself she dyes her hair in the peekaboo style

Either black and red or black and blonde

Haven't decided yet

I'll be doing Celesnaegiri hcs as a seperate post but I just feel it's important for you to know that she expresses her affection verbally and is a very touchy person

Went to middle school with Maki and Korekiyo

Has horrible eyesight

She wears contacts most of the time but she always puts off buying more

After the 5th or so time she ended up blindly stumbling around a week after her contacts ran out Kyoko convinced her to buy glasses as well

Religious accessories yo

Like chokers and dangly earrings with crosses and pentagrams and shit

Likes wearing wacky earrings

Can run and do all sorts of tricks in heels

She and Mukuro are exes yo

Keeps her hair short so it's easier to manage

Hair never gets longer than her shoulders if she can help it

She seems like the kind of person who'd keep her bangs grown past her eyes regardless of how frustrating or inconvenient it is

She's a sub yall just don't wanna admit it

Funtime Foxy (FNAF)

I'm going on the record to say this

Funtime Foxy is genderfluid and that is that

Goes by Funtime

Any pronouns, They/Them most commonly

Plays music (keyboard and guitar mainly)

They and Funtime Freddy (Freds) mainly play with the kids

Freds mainly tells stories with Bonbon while Funtime more so plays one-on-one

Has nicknames for everyone

Circus Baby - Ringleader

Ballora - Bells

Funtime Freddy - Partner

Bon Bon - Bun

Peril (WOF)

I like both Nonbinary She/They Peril and Mtf She/Her Peril

They're both such good concepts

She's a lesbian, Harold

She only had a crush on Clay bc he was pretty much everything she was supposed to like in a guy

Gimme a moment while I force all my mental disorders onto this poor child

Autistic, Anxiety (Social anxiety, mainly, but she has most types), Adhd, PTSD

I'd like to reiterate yet again that She's a lesbian

Sunny and Glory were her gay awakening

Peril in Book 1: Damn, Sunny and Glory sure are pretty. Anyone would be lucky to date them. Clay would probably go for them over me. He would be stupid if he didn't. I myself would willingly date them over someone like me. They're just so pretty :(

Peril waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of arc 2: WAIT-

Rarepair alert but Peril/Sora

Peril meeting Sora: "Hmmm She's attractive. I would love to date her. Too bad I'm straight and in love with her brother lmao :P"

Peril, a mere month later, waiting for Ruby to leave Jade Mountain, pacing in her cave, running face first into a wall: WAIT-

I remember reading this one amazing story where Sora taught Peril to read/write and Peril found out she set off the bomb and comforted her/convinced her her run so that's canon now

Btw if anyone can remember what that story was called/what platform it was on and could tell me I'd appreciate it very much

I'd even be willing to draw a character of your's or make you an icon or something

I usually don't accept requests bc I get burnt out easy but this is a special case

She runs into Sora again sometime between the beginning of TOP and the end

I like to imagine she just goes wandering around

Anyway she confesses like a mere few minutes after running into her again bc Peril is just subtle like that

The actual confession takes 15 minutes and the entire time Sora is just sitting here like "👁👄👁 sure"

Bam Peril/Sora

Peril plans to keep it a secret for a little while longer but she spends 3 seconds around Clay and pretty much blurts it out

Clay, who wasn't even aware that Peril was a lesbian, is just "👁👄👁"

I wanna say Clay doesn't know what a lesbian is but in my canon Sunny is a lesbian so Starflight has already told him

Anyway he's super supportive

From that point Peril is sorta open about her sexuality?

Like, she gives Clay permission to tell the rest of the D.O.D bc she isn't about to risk being in front of them when they hear the news

(When Sunny starts actively seeking her out as a hang out buddy and Tsunami, Glory, and Starflight appear to tolerate her presence just a bit more afterwards she pretends she isn't confused by the change)

She's pink, white, and blue bc I said so

If you look at a certain angle in the right lighting her eyes, mouth, fire, and under her scales all look purple

But her fire is normally white and blue bc I said so

Also she pale as fuck bc in my canon their fire just sorta burns their colour away

You know how you leave something outside for too long and it gets sunbleached? Where it gets all washed out?

Like that but more extreme

By the age of 10-12 firescale dragons are just white with pale eyes

That's right not even the eyes are safe

Ram horns :P

I'm also fond of Peril/Sunny

Or maybe Peril/Sora/Sunny

But Peril/Sora is the main thing

On the topic of that bringing in my hc that if one sib in a sib group is fire resistant all of them are

She,,, She can change her scale colour

But only slightly and only if her emotions are strong enough

Bc I don't give a fuck about Darkstalker's scroll we were robbed of hybrid Peril

Unfortunately all of Peril's emotions are strong

Rainwing ruff along her head and neck

It's like a hood

It's mainly smoothed to her sides but when she's startled it flares out

RAINWING PUPILS

Y'all will know what those look like as soon as I get off my ass :P

She,,, She can mimic bird cries

Hates the summer

She has more than enough body heat already and the outside is just hot enough to add on and make her feel sick

She can somewhat control her heat but most of the time it's based on her emotions

It can go from standing-in-the-middle-of-a-burning-building-cant-see-your-nose-smoke-is-so-thick heat (Strong emotion) to Hey-thats-a-nice-cozy-campfire heat (Calm/"weak" emotion/Sleeping)

I'm just gonna make a different post with all my Peril hcs cuz there isnt enough room for all of them here

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

What type of kids do you think the ikevamp guys would be if they went to high school?

Oh boy HERE WE GO

(Under a cut bc this post is a Long Boi^TM)

Napoleon. Would prbly be that kid that’s like somehow bafflingly in the top ten of his class but nobody ever sees him??? Like he’s always late to school or napping in the quietest places on campus (they found him in a locker once and the school was laughing about it for WEEKS bc he insisted he was just chillin, and it wasn’t like a bullying incident he just wanted to sleep LMAO). Surprisingly amiable? A lot of people are afraid of him at first but he’s just so casual and direct, he gains quite a few friends (and a good number of girls have a crush on him--he always diverts the attention of skeevy guys). Good friends with Jeanne because they fence together a lot, and people are always baffled at how easily they chat

Mozart. Where do I begin. Number one in his class, perfectionist prick. That one kid that’s a known prodigy and that everyone hates for his impeccable grades and musical talent. Always gets the solos and conducting roles in the school performances. He knows how to play a crowd--will always be sweet and cherubic in front of teachers. But when it’s just the students? All gloves are off. Frigid and incendiary, will not take any shit and will tear you apart with words in milliseconds. Do not cross. He will end your entire life and self-esteem, it’s not worth it. Has a few friends, and they often experience the disdain of jealous students--but they’re all steadfast about defending him. And Mozart will not tolerate it if people are mistreating his friends, he’s an iron wall of defense; to be his friend means to always have someone looking out for you, make no mistake. He and Jeanne often grab food together after practice and ask about each others day, they hella close but never really show it while school’s on--their class schedules are worlds apart bc of their grades, and at lunch they’re usually practicing/doing hw. When they hug it out at graduation and pat each other on the back everyone nearly falls the fuck out of their chair LMFAO

Leonardo. That kid that 100% could probably be in the top fifty of his class but just can’t be bothered to give a damn. Always argues points with his teachers and plays devil’s advocate until they are inches from exploding at him. Always the one to mercifully make class feel shorter with his absolute distraction-heavy shitfuckery (and sometimes you really learn something because of his line of thinking). He's a dumbass but like harmless, essentially. Used to be the perfect student^TM and then decided the system was bullshit and he wanted no part of it, thinks public education can kiss his ass. Nobody knows it since he asks people not to talk about it, but he tutors kids after school for hours--has brought kids from Ds to Bs. He always dodges nosy people, never goes to parties, and finds ways to intervene around kids that are struggling with smth (with ninja stealth of course). Despite how easily he laughs and chats with just about anyone, he’s...actually surprisingly v much a lone wolf. Only ever consistently hangs out with the heartthrob rich kid, but nobody understands why???? And they’re always roasting each other wtf, are they even friends????

Comte. Pretty boy genius, always in the top five of his class though doesn’t seem too worried about it or obsessed with rank as students often are. It’s more that his parents have high expectations for his future as their heir, so he tends to fall in line with it. Born into money but somehow....not an asshole??? He doesn’t really like showing off, tries to be quiet about his accomplishments but his parents won’t really allow it--and he’s the star of the soccer team so it can be hard to hide. Most often the one at a party trying to help people sober up (always designated driver) or hearing his friends out when they have a problem. Has never publicly tried to bust heads, but some of the guys in the school insist he’s got a dark side--probably because he threatened them (passive aggressively) within an inch of their lives for being disgusting to girls. But nobody believes them bc...I mean look at him, does that look like a threat?? He just bought that kid’s lunch for christ’s sake. TONS of girls ask him out and confess their feelings, and he always lets them down as gently as he can--conceivably doesn’t like anyone himself, as far as the student body knows. Like Leonardo he’s v amiable, but also manages to reveal nothing personal while getting close. Leonardo’s the only one that’s managed to scratch the surface, and the kid won’t leave him alone for some godforsaken reason. And yet, he seems to enjoy their minutes of banter more than the hours of time spent with “friends”

Arthur. Oh boy. Good lord. Well. He used to be a sweetheart that would always seek out the mousier students and bring them into discussion/involve them on the playground. But alas, Teenage Jadedness^TM hit him like a train and now he’s an incorrigible flirt and believes no single person can be good deep down (somebody get this bitch some eyeliner). Believes the world will always be a cruel and unfeeling place where victims are never heard, so he just kind of goes full skeptical and bitter (think Sylvain for those of you that are FE fans). Has fun with every girl he sees (usually dating several girls at once) and doesn’t much care for his grades, but somehow has perfect scores in English?? He insists it’s because he needs to keep his seduction game on par with the voices of older legends before him, but some of the girls that see him in the library from time to time--v serious--are struck by how attractive he is in such deep focus, entirely uncharacteristic of his nosy and boisterous behavior in the halls (can often be seen whirling around Isaac like a bird of prey while our little baby robin Isaac stiffly tries to get away from him, and Dazai often joins to make things even more chaotic bc why not? In reality they just love this feisty kid that never gives up on what’s right, even though they’ve both given up trying themselves)

Dazai. He’s one of those kids that like does weed regularly but is also like...alarmingly insightful?? Like those kids I was always told to avoid, but now and again I would have conversations with out of necessity and was just...kinda shook. I mean granted he’s a little weird but he’s fairly harmless?? He’s like a class clown but on a massive scale--there’s nobody in the place that doesn’t know who he is, that haven’t heard tales of his exploits (he always comes in through the windows and gets detention for it a lot, and he even brought a chicken with him to school once????) nobody gets what he’s doing at any moment (don’t even know if he does really, chaotic mofo) and honestly nobody wants to know they just do the side eye meme when he appears or laughs. The teachers lament his untapped potential or just hate him for making their lives an even bigger headache than usual, and his grades are...yeah let’s not look at those. Organized the senior prank with absolute GLEE, and it was talked about for ages after he was gone--an inspiration chaotic bastards everywhere

Theodorus. (I hate.......that I pictured him in those like Vineyard Vine white boy clothes.......for the record its mostly bc his parents force him to wear them). All business. This kid doesn’t have time for your bullshit, will absolutely walk away if you’re boring him or seeking social clout. Popular because he’s hot and has a mean streak a mile wide, all the girls that didn’t like Mozart for being ethereal and effeminate boomeranged to find Theo ready to fulfill their hopes and dreams. They only grow more feral when rumors of him actually being fairly nice one on one--and telling creeps to fuck off of vulnerable girls at parties--start to circulate. (If he isn’t with Vincent, Arthur is probably near. Nobody understands how the two are brothers????) Van Gogh name apparently is just “I can be your angel or i can be your devil” and no one understands how... Grades are average and he’s plenty capable, most of his time is spent working after school because his parents refuse to provide Vincent with any artistic materials (canvas, paints, etc). They ask him to go to parties more, but he only goes to piss his parents off (he’s v lowkey punk and it’s understandably sexy of him). Will literally only listen to Vincent, and got in a looooot of trouble after getting into a fistfight with Shakespeare. Only stopped because his parents blamed Vincent for the incident, and Vincent apologized and went quiet for days ;-;

Vincent. Always been quiet and shy, but he doesn’t dislike ppl--he just has a hard time speaking up now and again. His parents always talk over him and tell him nothing he has to say has any real value, so he tends to struggle with a lot of self-doubt. Not isolated because he’s not likeable, it’s more because people tend to take advantage of his mild and earnest nature--until Theo runs them off. He’s on amiable terms with most people but has no real, true friends and it makes him feel lonely a lot. Mostly copes with the emotional turmoil by painting as much as he can. His grades are average, he does reliably well but can often be found daydreaming or distracted. Theo tends to escort him everywhere because of his propensity to attract danger (namely Shakespeare) or walk into things cuz he’s in his head a lot. A few of the artsier girls and the quiet academic girls have HUGE crushes on him (he’s softspoken, sweet, and calm; come on now), but he’s so distant--and honestly nice to everyone in equal measure--that they don’t have much hope of it coming to fruition. This kid deadass doesn’t think a single girl would ever like him that way so he’s just c:???????? when Theo talks about “those nosy harpies coming after my brother”

Jeanne. EDGY MCEDGE. Isn’t amazing in the academic department, but he’s a killer fencer--the rallying cry of the entire team. He became leader his sophomore year and he’s pretty much the only reason they keep destroying at tournaments throughout the year. Despite the pervasive interest in him he intimidates most people away with his swift intensity and ironclad stoicism. Silent as a grave and very still, people are convinced he’s the Grim Reaper reincarnated (listen he’s juST A DUTIFUL BABIE N O). If he isn’t fencing or practicing, Isaac often offers him help in the library after school hours in one of the study rooms (can’t be seen who’s inside from the outside). The two develop a kind of uncanny bond; they’re both so...bad at human-ing that they find a lot of comfort in the atmosphere they create. There’s none of the bullshit grandstanding or clout obsession, just them genuinely trying to help each other (yes Jeanne absolutely teaches Isaac self-defense moves in order to crush the kids that pick on him, and Jeanne often either glares or outright threatens those students when Isaac isn’t looking). Only ever smiles or feels understood when he’s hanging out with Mozart, so he cherishes the time Mozart offers him to hang (he knows the kid is busy up to his eyeballs and under a ton of pressure by comparison, his parents don’t care much as long as they can brag about his fencing records)

Isaac. Mega nerd that just...does not know how to interact. Only understands math and DESTROYS in competitive math club, but otherwise is always alone at lunch or just in the library. A little bean pole because he doesn’t look after himself very well (neglects to eat a lot) and can sometimes be found asleep on his books. If approached he will be very thorny, doesn’t have any friends to speak of and trusts everyone about as far as he can throw them. Yells at Arthur and Dazai a lot when they flock around him, and has gotten into his fair share of fights. Never starts fights, but will finish them. People are surprised he can hold his own, and he comes away with blood that ain’t his. There are a few girls that are curious about him, but its mostly the ones that have seen his awkward thoughtfulness in club--or the girls that are sick of the assholes and appreciate how stalwart he is. He really just wants to be left in peace (his parents never show up to his meets or when he wins academic awards, and the few teachers that notice are pretty concerned abt his reactivity and complete lack of social savvy...) Leonardo always helps him sneak in at night to look at the stars on the school roof

Shakespeare is p much the like “kid most anticipated to be in jail as soon as they’re out of high school” He just. Has that like...serial killer vibe??? Idk if I’m explaining this well but he was that guy that would always cling to genuinely compassionate girls just trying to be nice like a LEECH, and would never fucking shut up if he did or didn’t get attention. You just can't win with this kid. Probably wanted to kill the kids that made fun of him or at the very least wanted to lash out against the confident/popular/nice kids. Only liked you if he didn’t deem you a threat, or if you didn’t make him insecure, or if you tolerated him (aka Vincent. Vincent PLEASE stop trying to reach out to dangerous ppl....I love you too much to watch this shit...) He admitted as much to Theo and the kid went livid with rage and pummeled him into the ground, though most of the rest of the student body doesn’t know quite what happened. (Theo refuses to explain to anyone, and just walks away if asked). Shakespeare will just change the subject endlessly and make passive aggressive threats until the person leaves if they try to bring it up. The only time the entire class has EVER seen Leonardo mad is when Shakespeare kept tailing this girl that wanted no part of him

Sebastian. Nerdy like Isaac, but is more of the silent observer type. Like Theo, doesn't want any part of the bullshit but won't be as blunt or outspoken about it, he's only open about it if pressed or pissed off. Doesn't have much patience for the clique-driven nature of high school and tends to take an interest in the people who stand out beyond the mind-numbing drama. Also is in the top fifty but studies like a lunatic, and can often be seen asking Comte for tips now and again. Has tried talking to Mozart and admires his talents, but Mozart gives a cold shoulder that would put Antarctica to shame. (Leonardo tries to ninja him into taking breaks but never succeeds). Has a great deal of disdain for the troublemakers (Arthur and Dazai) but doesn't intervene, just watches shit go down and sighs. Probably the most normal(?) one of the bunch, just does his best and keeps his head down

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jamaiskookie · 4 years

Text

How To Ask Your Crush Out: A Guide For Dummies [knj x reader]

⚖ warnings: intense amount of crack and very very trashy writing

⚖ word count: 3.3k (very smol boi today, just wanted to get this little drabble out)

⚖ genre: crackity fluff; my specialty :-)

⚖ A/N: been preparing for halloween so forgive me for the short fic, i’ve been pUMPING out content for you guys recently.

masterlist asks

⚖ synopsis: Prof. Kim Namjoon is pleased and delighted to present his new class: How To Ask Your Crush Out For Dummies; A comprehensive, follow-along six step guide for the introverted and shy.

A triumphant Kim Namjoon jumps into frame in front of the huge chalkboard in a huge lecture hall, holding a piece of white chalk in one hand and a pointer in the other, with a slightly maniacal grin stretched on his face. His black thick rimmed glasses are crooked and skewed, sitting on the bridge of his nose, completely lopsided. He’s been awake for- oh he doesn’t keep count. Possibly 28 hours by now.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” (It’s 6 in the morning, and nobody is in the audience.) He stretches out the long, metal chalkboard pointer, who he has named Bertha, and smacks it against the chalkboard. It echoes through the empty hall. He secretly loves the sound the long pointer makes. It’s so satisfying, and the fact that he got it on Amazon Prime for only like 2 dollars makes the sound so much better.

“Welcome to today’s class!” He’s still talking to an empty room. It might be the desperation in him, or just his good ole’ friend sleep deprivation fueling his somewhat insane behaviour. “Today I am completely focused on solving the greatest mystery I have ever encountered in my lifetime. Arguably, this is the most scrutinised cold case ever seen in the world. Today we’ll be tackling: How To Ask Your Crush Out. Would anybody like to start off by introducing themselves, their crush, and how long you’ve been infatuated? Hm?” Crickets.

“Ah, there’s nobody here!” Namjoon exclaims cheerfully, as if he only just realised. He swings back, turning to the chalkboard and continues teaching. “My name is Kim Namjoon, or Professor Kim to you,” Again, completely empty room. “And I have had a crush on Y/N L/N for almost two years now.” His smile falters when he realises it really has been two whole years. Clearing his throat, he smacks an A3 sized picture of a pretty girl onto the chalkboard.

You are wearing a long cardigan sweater in the photo, candidly reading with headphones wrapped around your neck. Namjoon has written a barely visible small ‘Y/N, October 4th’ on the top corner of the picture. He’s always had a bit of a photography hobby, but his pictures always seem to turn out better when you are the subject.

It’s a bit odd how you look so much better when you don’t know he’s taking a photo. All the selfies and old pictures from university he has of you are just as beautiful, but there’s something ethereal about you in your natural state. Sitting down and reading a book in a library. That photo is miles better than any of the stupidly extensive photo-ops you plan out for your Instagram pictures. He stares at the photo before turning back to the (imaginary) class.

“Let me introduce the- as the kids say- lomél. I believe this is an abbreviation for Love Of My Life. L-O-M-L, if anybody wants to write the spelling down.” He swerves Bertha around to point at your picture. “This,” He says, seriously. “Is Y/N L/N, my… my friend since freshman year of university. I have never confessed my feelings to her, despite trying many, many times. Today, we’re going to trouble-shoot and hopefully solve this problem, while examining a shy person’s abilities to socialise and freely have a love life.” Namjoon ignores the small voice in his head that mentions how a successful Philosophy professor who speaks in front of hundreds of students every day such as himself should be able to say ‘I like you’ to the girl he’s had a painfully obvious crush on for the past two years.

“Step ONE:” Namjoon yells, writing a big ‘1’ on the chalkboard. “Do not start off a confession by mentioning a Confucius quote if your crush is not in the philosophy or ethics community! They will not understand no matter how obvious it is!” On the chalkboard, he draws an old man with droopy eyebrows and huge beard- Confucius. Then he draws a huge circle around it and crosses it out with a line using so much force he almost breaks the piece of chalk in his hand.

“In fact, just don’t mention anything about philosophers! And don’t try to confess to them through a math problem, they will not understand!” Namjoon winces. He learned that one the hard way. (He asked you to isolate ‘1’ in ⅓ < 3, which is a seventh-grade level inequality. You had pushed him away and yelled at him for making you do math. The answer to the inequality equation would have been 1 < 3u.) ((1 < 3u = I <3 you. He thought it was pretty obvious.))

He draws a subtraction and addition sign and draws another circle, crossing through it.

“Step TWO!” Namjoon shouts, cringing at the horrible scratchy noise the chalk makes against the board. “If you do get the chance to confess to them and manage to get through without substantially embarrassing yourself, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT laugh and agree if they ask if you are joking! They will! Laugh along with you! While you try! To hide your pain!”

“I cannot emphasise this enough!” Namjoon is basically screaming by now. He hopes nobody from campus comes in to complain. The picture of you on the board with the symbols that he’s drawn along with the big ‘FLIRTING AND DATING 101’ written on the top of the board could lead to some severe misunderstandings. “Do not laugh if that ever happens again- I mean, if it ever happens to you! It’s more likely than you would think if you are in love with a dumbass! It will happen! Misinterpretations and concerns will happen! Learn from them!” Namjoon writes a huge ‘laughing to hide the pain = bad ❌’ onto the board.

“Does anybody have any questions?” More crickets.

“Okay then, moving on!” Namjoon writes a ‘3’ below the notes for step 2. “Step THREE: Confessing via call, facetime, or handwritten letter would be optimal for the average introvert. I suggest a handwritten letter would be best for this kind of confession. Still not ideal, but it gets the job done. Can someone tell me why a handwritten letter would be better than a call, facetime, or anything on the internet?” Without waiting for his non-existent introvert class to respond, he snaps his fingers, a satisfied look on his face. “That’s right! Facetiming or hearing your crush’s voice would be too nerve wracking and inevitably, you’ll mess up and say something like ‘Did you know that Barbie’s real name is Barbara Millicent Roberts’ instead of ‘I’ve liked you for two years’... I do not speak from experience.”

Awkwardly, he clears his throat again, averting his eyes from literally nobody. “Texting would not be good! Texting is considered insensitive and is not a good way to confess your feelings. If the idea of a face to face confession is too intimidating or not ideal in your introverted situation, the aforementioned options would be your best choices. I strongly advise you to stick to those three. In order of a likelihood for a successful confession, it goes: Letter, facetime, then call.” He writes ‘letter > facetime > call > speaking in real life (?)’ on the board.

“hoWEVER,” He says, pointing at the large ‘3’ he wrote with Bertha. “If you do end up choosing to write a handwritten letter- write this down, this is an important note- do NOT forget to sign your name! Your crush will end up throwing it away thinking it’s a random admirer or a prank. MAKE SURE TO WRITE THIS DOWN!” On the board, he writes down ‘My name → Kim Namjoon.’ He nods thoughtfully. “Yes,” He says. “It’s important to write your name.” He mutters it over and over, staring glazed at the words written on the board.

Close to bursting into tears, he grabs a hold of his hair and cradles his head in his hands. “Why didn’t you write your fucking name, Namjoon?” He frustratingly mutters to himself. Sighing, he puts his hands on his waist, marvelling at what he’d written so far. The peaceful silence doesn’t last for very long.

“STEP NUMBER FOUR!” It’s not like him to be so loud. It’s probably a good, balanced combination of his lack of sleep and being alone with his inner thoughts. He’s pretty sure he has an alternate personality who thinks he’s Freud. Freud occasionally throws in some pretty deep psychoanalysis prompts for him to consider when he can’t sleep.

“If… And only if you build up the courage to ask her out in person-! Well, firstly, congratulations, we’re all very proud of you. Secondly, do it in public! You might be thinking, Professor Kim, why on earth would I want to do it in public? Getting rejected in public is so much more horrible!? Well, BELIEVE ME, UNBELIEVERS- Getting rejected in public is sO much better than getting rejected in private! Due to our tendency to not draw attention to ourselves and the way we like to shrink in public, it’s much more likely that we won’t break down in tears if we get rejected in public! Well, once you get back home, you might start breaking down, so maybe this is just a temporary solution, but it’s still better than sobbing in front of your crush when you devastatingly get rejected!”

Knitting his brows together, Namjoon corrects himself. “Not when you get devastatingly rejected, sorry. If. If. Yes, if. If you get devastatingly rejected. Come to think of it, in a purely logical way, you have a 50/50 chance of succeeding in your confession. ‘I like you, do you like me?’ That’s a yes or no question, isn’t it? A confession is exactly the same as flipping a coin! You have a 50% chance of getting heads, 50% chance of getting tails. Either way, you get on with your life despite getting heads or tails. So… the odds are kinda in your favour!”

“Except when you flip a coin, you wouldn’t get nervous to the point where you accidentally push the coin into a mud filled pond where the coin’s favourite shirt got ruined so then the coin proceeded to ignore you for the next two weeks, making it the most miserable two weeks of your entire life… But that probably won’t happen again.” Namjoon mutters underneath his breath. “Coins don’t wear shirts anyways.” Somehow, that seemed to comfort him. He writes down ‘coins can’t wear shirts’ on the chalkboard.

“Step number FIVE!” Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of the espresso that’s been sitting on his desk for hours. “What was step number five agai- oh right. Step number five: look your best!” Namjoon catches sight of his reflection and winces. “Okay, maybe I don’t have a great example right now.” He reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, almost puking when he feels the amount of grease and gunk buried in his scalp. He should probably shower. And get some sleep. His eye bags do not look very attractive right now. Maybe he should get a haircut too, it’s kinda getting wild up there. In his own defence, he’s been standing in this exact pair of sweatpants and glasses for the past couple hours, so he smells a tiny bit. Don’t girls like it when guys wear grey sweatpants? Frowning, Namjoon makes a mental note to do some research later on.

“Shower, change, put in contacts, cologne, flowers…” Namjoon starts writing a to-do list onto his small notebook. “Would she like flowers, actually? Is it misogynistic of a guy to bring flowers or is it just a cute, nice gesture? Am I overthinking this?” His phone vibrates in the middle of his feminism breakdown, and he pats his back pockets before realising his phone was across the table. He grunts as he leans over to pick it up, and thoughtlessly, he accepts the call and brings it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Your voice is both a comfort and a shock to hear so early in the morning. He can already see you sighing aloud and scrunching up your nose cutely, a habit you picked up from him himself. He does it when he’s embarrassed, but you do it when you’re angry. It doesn’t really work because now whenever you get mad he just swoons and gushes over your cute nose and chubby cheeks.

“aH- Um… What time is it?” Namjoon fumbles around, jumping up.

“It’s like 7 in the morning? Hello, you promised to come workout with me today? Come open your door, I’ve been ringing your doorbell for forever, but I think it’s broken. I’ll call the repair guy for you later.” Namjoon lets out a nervous laugh, guiltily looking at his shoes even though he knows you can’t even see what he’s doing right now.

“It’s already seven? Wow, time flies really fast. I’m- ” He yawns, bringing the phone away from his ear for a moment. “- really tired.” A beat passes by. How is it possible that he can hear you get angry at him from here?

“Namjoon.” Another awkward laugh rings through the lecture hall.

“Ahahha. - Yes?”

“Are you at work right now?” You ask, voice suddenly turning stone cold.

“Um, well, that’s a debatable question. See, is it really, honestly my work if I love doing it? Sure, it makes me a living, but of course I don’t consider it to be my workplace, you know? Like, I get to come in and do what I love every single day, educating the next generation. It’s actually a really bad mindset because once you refer to your job as ‘work’ you don’t-”

“Namjoon.”

“Okay yes, I’m at work.” He relents, pushing his glasses up and sighing.

“Joon, it’s seven! Like, seven in the morning! Have you been in there since you clocked in yesterday morning?” You ask worriedly.

“Uhh, I think so?” To be honest, he’s been here for two nights already, crashing out on a beanbag and brushing his teeth in the staff bathroom when he needs to.

“Namjoon!” He mumbles out an apology. “What the hell could you have been doing in there? You don’t even have that many classes this week!” Namjoon lets his eyes trail over to the chalkboard, then back down to his notebook.

“Uh… it’s kinda complicated?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll come home now, don’t worry!” He says, even before you can demand he take care of himself. Sometimes, you’re just a teensy bit overbearing. It’s a messed up miracle he managed to fall in love with you in the first place.

“Be careful, okay? It’s flu season, too, so you really can’t be this reckless! You’re literally going to drive me into an early grave, for fuck’s sakes. You’re always fussing over how overworked I am, so how could you not take care of yourself? That’s so hippo- hypo- ugh, what’s the word?”

“Hypocritical.” Namjoon says into the phone while packing up his things.

“Hypocritical, yes. You better be here in ten minutes or less, Kim. Come home, take a shower and then sleep. I’m guessing you have done neither of those things since yesterday.” Namjoon doesn’t have the decency or humility to give you an honest answer, so he just stays silent. His eyes are still fixed on the chalkboard. Where was he at when your phone call interrupted? Ah, yes. Step number six: ‘I love you.’ Step number six was a piece of advice he had gotten from Min Yoongi, a music theory professor who taught just a couple minutes away from Namjoon’s office. He’s been dating Jung Hoseok, another mutual friend of Namjoon’s, for a few years now.

“What do you mean?” Yoongi just blinked when Namjoon asked him, stared blankly at him, lips threatening to pull up into a smirk.

“What do you mean, ‘What do you mean’?” Namjoon said, huffing. “How did you confess to Hobi?”

“Bro,” Yoongi said, now freely laughing at Namjoon. “If you can’t confess to her, just wait until you get around to thinking about proposing. Never been more nervous in my life, swear to god.” Namjoon had never been a violent type. Up until he met Yoongi.

“Just- tell me how you did it, would you?” Yoongi gave a rare, small smile and beckoned him closer. He leaned in, about to tell Namjoon a big secret.

“Just say it.” He whispered into Namjoon’s ear. Namjoon rolled his eyes, pulled away and rested his head on the sofa.

“That’s the most useless thing I’ve ever heard.”

“No it’s not!” Yoongi also leaned back into his seat. “Just say it. ‘I love you.’ It’s nothing difficult. Just say it!” Namjoon scoffed and left, but Yoongi called something out while he was walking away. “Hey, you’re going to lose her if you don’t do anything.” Namjoon froze, but continued to walk. Yoongi watched, two seconds later, amused as Namjoon came rushing back in, sat himself down on the sofa and demanded Yoongi tell him everything he needed to know.

Thus, his six steps were born.

If Min Yoongi, a person who is possibly even more shy and even more introverted than Namjoon, (Which is a big feat) can ‘just say it’, he should be able to do it easily. Namjoon nods to himself, rolling his head back and cracking a neck bone.

Taking a deep breath, he speaks into the phone.

“Hey, I have something to tell you.”

“It can wait,” You say. It’s so like you to ruin a love confession, Namjoon thinks, laughing. “Come home, go sleep for a couple hours, then we can talk. It’s not important, is it?” He stares at the chalkboard, letting out a satisfied exhale.

“Nope.” He says. “Not that important. I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay,” He hears you grunt from the other side of the phone, shuffling around. “Hey, I’m gonna hang up first, I’ll wait for you to get here. Where’s your spare key again?”

“Underneath the compartment in the hanging plant. Yeah- the one above the front door.” He hears the familiar jingle of his keys and your adorable ‘a-ha!’ from the phone, and his smile stretches wider.

“Ohh, okay, got it. Thanks! You don’t mind if I go in first, right?”

“Nah.”

“Okay, bye!” Before he says it back, you hang up, and he’s left with an annoying beeping sound that repeats in his ear. He misses you, Namjoon muses to himself. He hasn’t seen you for much too long. Happily, he skips to the back of the lecture hall. (which he then immediately regrets when he finds out his legs don’t work properly after staying in the exact same position for hours without end.) He doesn’t even mind that you’ll see him in this horrendous state if he gets to see you fuss over him again. Your soft side coming out is like spotting a rare bonsai tree on sale in a run-down store- extremely special and only happens once in a while.

Okay, that analogy was really bad, he just really wanted to mention his bonsai trees.

He spares one last glance to the filled chalkboard. With good luck, nobody will walk in and see that mess all over the board. He’d probably get fired.

“I love you.” He says to himself. Maybe Yoongi was right. It does sound pretty easy. Namjoon walks out of the lecture hall, switching off the lights and running off to see you.

Kim Namjoon’s Six Steps Towards Confessing Your Love: Introvert Edition

Do not refer to anything academic or clever in your confession.

Do not laugh when they ask if you are joking once you confess.

Letter > facetime > call

Confess in public.

Look your best!

Just say it.

⚖ wanna talk to professor!joon? or add yourself to the taglist?

78 notes · View notes

slightlymore · 4 years

Text

Pride | Part 8 [The End]

Pairing: Doyoung, Y/N Other characters: Haechan, Johnny cameo Genre: Series | Smut | Angst | Crack | Fluff Warnings: as usual, language, same issues around mental health and unhealthy coping mechanisms, angsty, hard hitting family drama Words: 10K lol idk I wanted to write more bc it feels a little rushed but then it would drag too much

Okay so I did write this while severely sleep-deprived lol (please get enough sleep, don’t do what I do) so it might be all over the place anyways, when I started Pride I had no idea I would write so many parts, and that it would have been so angsty honk honk tell me if you liked the ending or not and I would love to hear what your overall thoughts on this series are (it’s fine even if it’s like “it sucked aha”) thank you for reading it, I appreciate your love and support a lot!! very many heart emojis here that I can’t do on the laptop, insert also sad clown emoji

TIME JUMPS EXPLANATION

Endind scene commentary

Doyoung has always regretted the things he had done wrong, when he was feeling weak, or imperfect, or exhausted. He would think about those moments and learn the same thing all over. Never again. And he lived with that mantra for a long time. Never again. Don’t slip, don’t let yourself go. Because it was painful.

But was it effectively painful as is, or was it only because he knew he shouldn’t have done that in the first place? Would it have been painful if he consciously let himself go? Was he feeling guilty for the mistake or for not being perfect? And at night, while breathing in and silently screaming his desire to be fragile, to break, to show people his soft imperfect soul he would think about that again and again. He appreciated that in other people a lot. Why would other people hate it in him? Why has he hated himself for such a long time? It is a denial of the inevitable. Just accept yourself, Doyoung. Accept yourself. Accept. And he thought he did it. Doyoung was sure he did it all. But as the first rays of sun hit his trembling eyelids, he already forgot. He opened up his eyes and looked at his ceiling, not remembering a single thing he told himself in the intimacy of the night.

_____

When the phone rang for the first time, you jolted on your seat, staring it down as if it was some kind of poisonous reptile.

God, you hated speaking on the phone.

When it rang again your eyes darted around you looking at the way your desk neighbors were judging you for taking so long to pick it up.

You breathed in and out.

“Y/N from Marketing speaking?” you mumbled into it. “Pizza or noodles?” a lazy but confident voice asked. You blinked, silent for a few moments, and looked around as if checking what was going on. “Who is this?” you whispered. A loud snort made you wince and remove the receiver from your ear. “-can’t believe you don’t recognize the voice of the best boy, the light of your life, the reason of your existence, the spawn of god, the joy of your miserable-,” the voice said when you listened to it again.

You closed your eyes and pinched the base of your nose. “Haechan,” you interrupted the litany, suddenly aware of the migraine lingering in the darkest part of your head. “So, pizza or noodles?” he chuckled satisfied.

It was pizza, and as you sat down for lunch you curiously looked around the dining hall. It was the first meal at the company and if it wasn’t for Haechan you wouldn’t have even known that there was a cafeteria at all. Your eyes darted to your left. It was louder than you’d expect from grown-ups.

“Yeah, it’s just like in high school”, Haechan swallowed his food, following the direction of your eyes as if knowing what you were thinking. Then he put down the slice of pizza he was holding and cleaned his fingers on a napkin.

“Okay, so, that table-”, he indicated with his head a group of people behind him, “lawyers. They can suck my dick and balls. And I’m definitely not saying this because they bully the IT department and we’d kill each other. Then in that one”, he indicated another table in the middle of the hall, “graphic designers. You probably see them around in the marketing wing where you’re at. Eh,” he shrugged, “normal people. Kinda weird. You’d think they won’t have colors on their clothes since they use a computer, but they still do for some arcane reason”.

You stared at them but only briefly before concentrating on your food as a few eyes returned the glares. The company was big and had hundreds of workers, but for some reason everywhere you looked around, people would stare back and whisper between themselves. “It’s because you made a ruckus at the party yesterday. Don’t worry, it will die soon.” Haechan explained, again reading your mind. It was kind of scary. “Where’s your group of people? Why are you eating with me?” you asked, unable to think about the day before.

About to go home the previous night, you looked for Doyoung first. You had no idea why. No, okay, you obviously knew why, but you didn’t know what you would tell him if you'd actually found him.

So you just gave up, suddenly anxious.

During the drive home, you called Johnny, not caring about the late hour. He had some explaining to do. “I can’t believe you’ve done that,” was the first thing you said into the phone.

Johnny’s voice was bright and not at all sleepy. He probably wasn’t home.

“So you’ve met him,” he chuckled lightly. “John,” you murmured tired, unable to say anything more and hoping that the tone of your voice would make him understand. And he did. “I know, I know. But listen, you’re in love with him,” he said. You groaned. “I don’t know, Johnny. I was alright before meeting him again”.

Johnny’s voice got clearer signaling that he went somewhere quieter. “It’s not true. You were not okay. Do you think I don’t have eyes?”

“But what if-” your voice stopped working and you had to gulp down. Your eyes stung as finally, you let your emotions flow after seeing Doyoung.

God, you didn’t want to cry.

“What if I’m like this only because I can’t have him? What if, I don’t know, we get together, right? and, and, what if, fuck, I don’t know, I just change my mind? and I hurt him? again? like, like-” you stuttered and ate your words. “Like you did with me?” Johnny asked. You started to cry silently. “Listen,” he repeated calmly, still able to hear your muffled breaths, “it’s going to be alright. What happened with us it’s not your fault, okay? Not entirely. We-” he stopped as well, thinking. “Johnny, it’s fine, we don’t have to talk about that again,” you sniffled. “No, no, wait, I need the right words,” he assured you. “We just weren’t a match, okay? We liked each other because we were good friends and we saw each other grow up, we were always together and we do love each other, okay? we really do, but not- just not that way,” he added after a pause. You nodded, even if he wasn’t able to see, remembering the long and emotional conversation you had a few months ago. “Doyoung though-” he went on and you breathed in and out, “he’s different. And you know that. Everything is different with him. So go and tell him what you feel, Y/N, please. I hate seeing you this way,” Johnny’s voice got thinner as if was worried. You sniffled again in silence and you both just listened to each other's breaths for a while. It calmed you. “Well,” you finally spoke with a hoarse voice. “It’s too late now” “No, no, Y/N-” Johnny interrupted you. “John, he’s married, he got married, he did it, it’s too late, I can’t-” you interrupted him as well. “Okay, okay, he’s married, like a fucking dumbass, okay,” he calmed you again. “But, honestly, I don’t give a single fuck at the same time. You said he didn’t even know the girl. He got set up. By his family. Like in a fucking soap opera. Who does that nowadays?” You sighed slightly amused. “Say fuck one more time”. “Fuck,” he swore then lightly chuckled. “Seriously though, talk to him, okay?”

And you said that you would.

And now you were there, eyes darting in the cafeteria looking for Doyoung again, heart stinging and anxiety as never before.

Haechan raised an eyebrow at your question. “I’m eating with you because you would probably eat alone right now. And-” he talked raising a finger as he sensed you wanting to interrupt him, “-if by 'my group of people'" he mimicked the quotations marks with his fingers, "you mean Doyoung, he never eats here. He stays in the office.”

You put your slice of pizza down and crossed your arms on your chest as if indicating that you didn’t like how Haechan assumed things. Haechan smiled. “I wasn’t looking for Doyoung”, you lied. Haechan mocked you with a bemused face. “I wAsn’t loOkiNg foR DoYouNg. I can tell him that you were looking for him if you want”. “No, Haechan. Wait, I’m-” you clenched your jaw and closed your eyes briefly.

Haechan stared at you waiting for you to go on sensing something more than just you wanting to see your crush.

“Do you think I should talk to him?” you asked after the pause. The boy's eyes turned serious. “About what?” he asked as well. You sighed. “About us. We… I don’t know. We almost kinda dated and he liked me first but I liked another guy and then when I understood my feelings he said that he was getting married and I had to act so quickly and I fucking panicked and then he was gone and I realized how much I’m in lov-” you stopped yourself from the frantic babbling. You gulped and looked around, as if afraid of people hearing you, or - worse - Doyoung himself.

Haechan breathed in and out slowly while adjusting his glasses on his nose. “I think you should talk then,” he replied quietly.

Your eyes darted towards his, but he wasn’t looking at you. Staring down at his pizza he played with a piece of it, rolling it around. “Are you guys not going along? Do you hate talking about him?” you asked, suddenly aware of his discomfort.

Haechan thought about it for a second then when he raised his face he got a wide smirk on.

“Every day that I see him he has a resting bitch face,” he replied, “or he’s annoyed, or he wants to punch me, or he’s like I had enough of you, Haechan,” he deepened his voice trying to imitate him. You rolled your eyes amused, almost if seeing Doyoung in front of you.

“Honestly? He’s… weird,” he added a little more seriously. You waited for him to go on, a light pressure wrapping your heart.

“It’s like,” Haechan spoke again looking at the ceiling as if unsure of what words to use, “he’s a house with all the lights on, and you come closer, but no one is inside?” he questioned looking back at you. “So you’re left with this sense of worry and uneasiness. I want to understand him but he… won’t let me get close. Not that I actually want that,” he explained with a smile.

You rested your back on the chair, pensive and suddenly feeling uneasy yourself by Haechan’s smile that didn’t reach his eyes at all.

_____

Insomnia, change in appetite, dizziness, rapid mood swings, intrusive thoughts, lack of concentration, pronounced sensitivity to external events, unfulfilled and intense longing. Isn’t this what Doyoung feared all along? Isn’t this what he tried to avoid?

“You don’t look that good, son.”

Doyoung turned his head towards his father as if seeing him for the first time. He hasn't been for a while now but thanks for noticing.

It was a bright and yellow morning. Rude and unnecessary.

“Maybe,” the man talked again with a weird twinkle in his eyes, smiling at his wife, making her chuckle as if she was already able to understand what he was trying to say, “you didn’t get enough sleep last night?” his father finished. Doyoung’s mother hit her husband’s hand tenderly with a little stop it. “I know you’re a grown-up man, Doyoung, but we still have some rules in this house. Sleeping with a lady on the first date it not gallant”.

Doyoung stared at them both.

Oh.

Right.

He met his allegedly future wife the previous night. And they were right. He did come back in the morning. It was a beautiful evening. Doyoung was sitting down rolling the stem of his glass of wine between two fingers, watching the way the dim lights of the restaurant made the golden liquid shine. Then he opened up another button on his shirt, feeling pathetic that he actually made an effort to look good for someone he didn’t care about. He ruffled his hair. He sighed. When The Wife came, he saw her legs first, walking slowly in a high pair of heels. Doyoung let his eyes gaze on them, going up shamelessly until meeting the seam of her tight dress. So he wasn’t the only one that tried for no reason. In spite of everything, Doyoung stood up and put a smile on his face. The Wife did the same and shook his hand. She sat down and the waiter came to fill up her glass as well. She said she was sorry for being a little late. Doyoung said it was alright. It was a nice night, wasn’t it? Yes, it was indeed. Kinda chilly. Yes, it is. The smog these days is terrible. Have you ever eaten in this restaurant? No, it’s my first time. What do you think is good? Let’s check the menu.

“Listen, Doyoung,” she finally said his name after a moment of silence, the cutlery gently hitting the plates as the only sound to fill the room. Doyoung looked up chewing slowly, unable to feel any taste. “You seem like a good person and I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with your family and what’s your opinion on all of this-” she started gesturing vaguely at them both, “-but I am in love with somebody else”, she finished.

Doyoung blinked at her, feeling nothing and gulped down. His head was completely empty.

He looked at her worried and pained face and felt like seeing his reflection in a mirror. She was in love? He felt sorry.

But she was also happy. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her expression wrinkles weren’t accustomed to frowning like that. She wasn't unhappy. She was just worried. That Doyoung would say that he doesn’t care about her love. Forcing her to marry him anyway.

“Me too”, Doyoung said after a few seconds.

The relief that washed over The Wife’s face was so contagious that Doyoung felt like smiling himself, but he didn’t. It wasn’t nothing to be happy for. Not for him. Not at that moment.

“So what are we going to do?” he asked her. She blushed. “We’re not going to get married. If my parents don’t agree... I’ll just run away! - with him!”.

She was so confident, radiant, and - in love - that Doyoung had to recollect himself after being hit with so much light. She knew what she wanted and she was going to get it. She was in love and she was loved back.

Doyoung felt like crying. He wanted that so badly as well.

“I came here to speak to you directly because even if I already knew what I was about to do, I thought it wasn’t unfair to not explain myself and just vanish”, she added. Doyoung nodded and sipped on his drink, unable to speak. The Wife-but-not-Doyoung’s-one-anymore looked at him with a wide smile but he saw how it flattered a little seeing his expression. “And what are you going to do?” she asked cautiously. Doyoung shrugged, letting his lips stretch in a smile that couldn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know. Live in the moment, I guess,” was his reply, hoping that it was an adequate answer and to just drop that conversation.

The Wife furrowed her eyebrows.

“Did you come here with the intent to actually force yourself into this stupid relationship? While being in love with somebody else? Like an idiot?” the Wife asked.

Doyoung felt his eyes widen at her use of words. He suddenly felt pathetic and weak in comparison.

“No one is waiting for me,” he explained. “It’s too late now”. The Wife scoffed. “Are you in love or what?”.

Doyoung emptied his glass with a trembling hand.

“I just feel like I’ve been fighting a lot by myself while no one is fighting for me, so I gave up, as pitiful as that might sound,” he explained himself. His voice got sharper and he just wanted to go home.

The girl rested her back on the chair while crossing her arms on her chest with an angry expression. The fact that she didn’t need to walk on eggshells around him anymore made her real personality shine through. Doyoung found it rather refreshing but he hated it at the same time. He was scrutinizing himself very well already, judging his every step and word and thought. He didn’t need other people to do it as well.

“So you never broke down,” she observed. Doyoung looked up.

“Do you need to reach a breaking point?” he questioned. “Do I really need to get to the point of losing all my pride and sanity? It doesn’t have to be like this. Love is not like this”.

The Wife tilted her head to the side as if analyzing him. Doyoung felt vulnerable all of a sudden.

What was he doing? Talking about feelings with a stranger? A stranger he was sure he was about to marry just 5 minutes ago? He felt dizzy and his head hurt.

“No,” she agreed. “Love is not only this, no. But it can be like this sometimes." Doyoung poured some more wine into the empty glasses. “Why is she not doing it then? Why does it always have to be me?” Doyoung asked with the littlest voice. “Why did she let me go so easily?” The Wife sighed. “I don’t know her nor do I know you. But it sounds to me like she perhaps loves you too much-”

Doyoung interrupted her with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“-because!” the girl raised her voice for fear of being interrupted, “-she did not let her egoistical feelings get in the way. If you told her that you were about to get married, she obviously thought about you first, instead of herself and her needs. What would have you done in her place?” she asked.

“Fight,” Doyoung whispered. “But did you?” she asked again.

Doyoung gulped.

“Did you fight for her love? Your parents told you that you had to get married and what did you do? Accepted it? You went to her and were like 'listen this is the situation, can you promise me you’ll love me forever so that I know it’s worth fighting for you?' Is this what you did?” the Wife was almost angry and in another situation, Doyoung would have found it entertaining.

He didn’t reply. The Wife took it for tacit approval and went on.

“We’re taught to not be selfish in love, that if you love them then just let them go, and all of this bullshit, but!-” she slammed her hand on the table suddenly making Doyoung jolt, “-it doesn’t mean that’s how she is really feeling. I’d say she loves you." she pointed her finger towards him as a politician would after their speech.

“No, don’t feed my hopes, please. You don’t know anything,” he shook his head. “Doyoung, this makes no fucking sense. Get out of your head. I want you to call her, now. Just talk. Communication." “What?” “Call her. Do it. I want you to explain the new situation to her. Tell her that you aren’t getting married and that you love her and you’re ready to fight for your love. Show yourself."

Doyoung shook his head again. “Stop it.”

“Do it."

“Who do you think you are?” Doyoung was starting to get a little angry.

The Wife didn't budge and just smiled.

“Fate."

“We’re done. There’s nothing else to do now." Doyoung got up suddenly and retrieved his wallet. A waiter came from the shadows to accept his card. The Wife sighed and just looked at him as if disappointed. “Alright, but when Fate is going to kick you in the butt again when you least expect it, please think of me and my words." “I don’t believe in fate,” he replied putting on his jacket.

But Doyoung thought of those words all night while moving his phone from one hand to another, walking home slowly. It was cold as hell and he enjoyed the pain of it. He wasn’t alone. He could almost see the black car that was following him from a certain distance. “Yes, sir,” was the bodyguard’s answer when he told him to fuck off after he insisted on taking him home as programmed.

And he thought of those words again, months later, the instant he heard your voice in that party hall. He swore he was hallucinating. He felt his limbs paralyzing and shaking at the same time. But he was trained. He knew how to work in these high tension situations. It was a little click and he couldn’t feel anything, adrenaline killed and buried in the deepest parts of his brain, like hungry wolves ready to tear him to pieces when he wouldn’t have had the force to keep them locked anymore. And so he moved like a machine, like something as far from human as possible. Later. We’ll deal with this later. I can’t. I can’t do it now. I can’t let myself fall. Stay. Focus. Later he could feel it indeed. It came eventually. He felt it right there while worried about your cut. He felt it as he held your hand and dragged you away. Pain washed him all over as if for the first time and love. Oh, love, it was so much love, he felt like drowning, he felt like a withering garden begging for rain and it came suddenly, so quickly, that he couldn’t possibly absorb it all at once.

When he opened the bathroom cabinets he saw the first aid kit in a second, but he felt so overwhelmed and all over the place that he couldn’t bring himself to face you properly. He pretended to look for it for a while and his body felt your burning gaze all over his skin. Why were you looking at him like that? Stop it, no, please continue, no, stop, it’s too much, please, please, never stop looking at me.

When he turned around he couldn’t bring himself to touch you again either without dragging you against his chest, never letting go. Was this fate? Was this the fate The Wife was talking about? Is this real? Is everything real at all?

As Doyoung’s parents were scolding him about apparently fucking like a rabbit the whole night, he put down his coffee and intertwined his fingers together, resting his face on them, closing his eyes and breathing in.

“We’re not getting married,” he suddenly spoke up. The cutlery stopped moving and his parents’ faces fell off.

“What?” Mother asked with a tiny voice. “What are you talking about?” Father furrowed his eyebrows, no amusement left in his eyes. Doyoung looked at them.

“I-am-” Doyoung articulated every word well and slowly as if talking with a stupid person, “-not-getting-fucking-married."

Father’s breath grew in pace, eyes out of his orbits.

“Doyoung,” his mother’s voice was a little surprised whine.

He looked at her with the corner of his eyes and his expression was probably one of his worst ones so far since she jolted imperceptibly as if seeing her son for the first time.

“What’s with this attitude? Who do you think you are?” Father’s voice was getting deeper and his cheeks and neck reddening.

Doyoung looked back at him with a killing glare.

“Doyoung, sweetheart, you don’t have to get married tomorrow. Get to know each other first. You’ll definitely like each other as time goes by-” Mother tried to calm everyone down.

“Like you and dad?” Doyoung let his tongue be as poisonous as it wanted. “Getting married to someone for convenience to just fight like fucking dogs every day in front of a child, huh?” he asked.

Mother gasped and covered her mouth with the impeccable napkin.

“Kim Dongyoung!” Father hit the table with his fist making all the tableware tremble.

Doyoung didn’t flinch.

“Do you want my son to assist at how I fuck different women every night? Pretending that he doesn’t understand what’s going on?”

Mother started to sob.

“And you,” Doyoung spoke to her, ignoring her tears, “do you want my son to listen to his mother bad mouthing me from the most tender age? Telling him what a terrible father I am, that he shouldn’t love him, letting him know how unhappy she is while the only thing he should be preoccupied about is the multiplication table and which toy he should be playing that day with?” Doyoung directed his gaze towards his mom raising his voice on the last words.

“Do you want me to bring my son to work to prove to my wife that I am in fact not fucking the secretary while letting her suck my cock under the desk?” he continued this time directing his speech towards Father.

The man was fully red at this point and when he got up from his chair Doyoung thought that he was about to punch him or just drag him on the ground.

But he didn’t. He was shaking as if no one had confronted him like that before.

His voice was dangerous and slow, like a poisonous snake.

“You’re going to get what you deserve, Dongyoung,” he spoke and Doyoung knew what that was.

Because in his father’s eyes, Doyoung was the faulty one. For speaking up. For telling the truth. For letting both of them, grown-up adults that were still running away from themselves like children, face their own feelings and shortcomings. Forcing him to be perfect and to do stuff that they wanted. Forcing him to accept every shitty thing they did but making him feel guilty for his actions.

“I will. And you as well, Father,” he replied getting up and throwing his napkin on top of his plate. His mother’s sobs were the only sound he could hear as he exited the room.

Doyoung apologized for having spilled his drink on you. And you looked up as if that was the last of your problems. Your fingers were trembling as you disinfected your cut and Doyoung knew it wasn’t because of the pain.

Right?

No, don’t do it. Don’t go there again Doyoung. For once, for a single time, stop jumping ahead. Just ask. Stop living in your head. Don’t assume. She’s not in love. She’s not here because of you. This is not fate.

So he did ask. He asked why were you there and the transient relief he felt when he was as close as to believe he was the reason for all of that, that maybe, just maybe, you tried to be selfish again, washed away. Because he could see how sincere you were while assuring him that you had no idea it was the place he was working at. There was no plan.

So this is fate? This is how it works? It gives you the possibility but you still have to work for it? You still have to endure the pain of trying and trying and failing over and over again? If fate could make you both meet again, why didn't it do everything? Why did fate bring you in front of his eyes again just to listen to your sweet voice say that you were over him? Like a slap. Like giving a thirsty man a cup of water and taking it away right before the moment a single drop of refreshing sweetness could have eased his burning tongue.

It’s not so simple to draw the line. This was the only lesson Doyoung fully understood. There’s no one way someone can be. It’s not black and it’s not white. Everything is blurry. Everything is gray.

_____

“Y/N." It took only that single word to make Doyoung snap his head up and look at Haechan. “She was looking for you,” he added while standing in front of Doyoung’s desk, one hand comfortably inside his pants pocket, the other holding a coffee.

“Is that for me?” Doyoung asked eyeing the cup.

Haechan snorted incredulously.

“I’m telling you that the ex you’re still in love with was looking for you and you talk about a goddamn coffee?”

Doyoung straightened his back.

“She told you that she’s my ex?” he asked surprised. “So you don’t deny that you’re in love with her,” Haechan considered while sipping on the coffee.

Doyoung’s eyes got darker as they usually did when talking to Haechan but the younger one could see the redness on his cheeks and the way his adam apple traveled up and down, anxious and embarrassed.

Oh Doyoung, Haechan thought, you’re so fragile.

“How is that your business?” Doyoung didn’t budge, even though he was aware that Haechan was your new interest.

Was Haechan jealous? Was that a new way Haechan tried to make him angry with? Since Doyoung arrived at the company Haechan has never let him alone. He was nagging and whining and messing up with Doyoung, making him angry and irritated, laughing when Doyoung snapped.

Haechan shrugged. “I’m a Gemini. Everything is my business."

Doyoung sighed and flipped the papers he had underneath his hands as if telling the other that the conversation was over.

But he still felt the other’s gaze on top of his head for long seconds. “So you’re going to be a pussy about it.” Haechan didn’t move and talked with a low voice Doyoung has never heard before. “You’re going to hold yourself back and prepare some escaping routes, just like always."

Doyoung stilled and looked up.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked almost in a whisper, too surprised by Haechan’s serious tone to actually get angry at the insult.

“I see you, Doyoung. I really see you. And I see how your father treats you,” Haechan sipped on his coffee again while staring out of the office windows as if talking about anything besides that. “Y/N was surprised when I told her that you weren’t some CEO or something. I didn’t tell her that you were punished.” Haechan filled the silence again as Doyoung was just staring. “I wasn’t punished,” Doyoung gave him a death glare.

Haechan shrugged.

“Do something for yourself for once, would you?” he added and Doyoung could have sworn that underneath the nonchalant mask Haechan had on, rested a troubled and sensitive soul.

“Are you two not dating?” Doyoung finally spoke when finding his voice.

Haechan came back to his normal self with a nasal laugh.

“You are so fucking stupid, oh my God,” he groaned. “No, darling, we’re not. That poor girl was too proud to admit that she’s in love with you while you probably just got back from your 'forced newlywed trip'”.

Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows and that was enough for Haechan to widen his eyes.

“So it’s not true,” he whispered.

Doyoung didn’t comment on that and Haechan didn’t add anything.

He looked out of the window again, lower lip slightly trembling so he bit on it. Then he smiled bitterly. “Fuck. Then you have to tell her that. Talk to Y/N,” he whispered again and just left leaving Doyoung confused as never before.

_____

You didn’t see Doyoung that morning and you didn’t see him during lunch either. Then at almost 5 o’clock your phone rang again. You rolled your eyes wondering what Haechan wanted to say to you. “Y/N from Marketing speaking." Your voice was flat but a little amused, ready to listen to whatever nonsense Haechan will talk about.

But when you heard the voice you gasped silently.

“Hello, Y/N. Doyoung from IT here."

His voice was warm and deep. Your breath grew heavier.

You couldn’t speak so you closed your eyes. Doyoung didn’t add anything either and you both ended up just listening to each others’ breaths for a while.

“Doyoung,” you said after what felt like ages and a few seconds at the same time, your nerves thin as never.

What were you both doing? What was this?

“Y/N,” he said in the same tone but then cleared his throat. “I-” he stopped. “I actually called with a purpose,” he added.

You imagined him, sitting behind his desk, cheeks flushed, fingers restless.

Or so you hoped.

Maybe he was just nervous. Maybe he hated to see you again. Maybe he was over you and now his pain just got back and it was all your fault.

“Yes?” you asked, raising your voice to seem nonchalant. “Yes. There’s this project that Haechan and I are working on,” he started, “-and we’ve been told to work with someone from marketing for the selling issues. And they suggested you since you’re new and you still have to prove yourself” he finished explaining.

You nodded. “Yes. Okay. Alright,” you almost stuttered.

“Come to my office. The map is on the server,” he ordered softly and hang up.

Just like that.

You remained still for a few seconds, with the beep-beep of the line ringing in your ears. Then you swallowed with a certain difficulty feeling your throat dry.

When you arrived in front of his door, thin nerves and muscles shaking, you just closed your eyes and forced yourself to calm down. You were about to see Doyoung. You were about to see him and talk to him. It wasn’t a dream and it wasn’t a fantasy. He was there, behind this thin closed door.

God.

You knocked.

His melodious voice told you to come in. And you did. He was sitting behind his desk, blinds slightly closed making the office semi-dark. “I didn’t know IT people had their own offices,” you smiled awkwardly while stepping in and closing the door behind you. “Well, we don’t need human interaction to do our jobs,” he replied in the same tone.

He got up and indicated you to sit down on the couch in front of his desk. He brought his laptop with him and placed it on the coffee table in front of it. You sat down, hands neatly placed on your thighs and you hoped he didn’t hear the way your breath hitched as he sat down as well, his thigh touching yours slightly.

His cologne was the same, you noticed, and your fingers vibrated, trying hard to stop themselves from touching him. You looked at his shoulders and imagined tracing them with your hand. Then wrapping them as you got closer. Then sliding them up to his nape, slowly, into his hair, closer and closer and closer and feeling his breath and kissing his lips and sitting on his lap and as you did so, his arms would hug you, pulling you close while he whispered your name.

Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

“Y/N." You jolted. He was turned to you, hands on the laptop screen, a PowerPoint on it. You looked at the computer then at his face. He understood that you haven’t been listening to him and sighed.

You breathed in and out.

“Doyoung,” you said and you saw him visibly shiver hearing your voice call his name.

“I think that we should t-” but you couldn’t finish the sentence as the door got opened with a loud thud.

Haechan was almost breathless when he barged in.

You and Doyoung looked behind your backs, both surprised to see Haechan with flushed cheeks and red eyes. “Haechan,” you said. “Is everything alright?” Doyoung asked as well. Haechan caught his breath by now, staring at you both then his lips tightened in a straight line. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry, I’m late. Let’s go to the conference room. It’s more spacious there,” he spoke up and turning around he just left. You and Doyoung looked at each other surprised.

You bit your lower lip, unable to carry on the conversation anymore.

“You were saying? I think we should?” Doyoung didn’t budge.

His eyes were dark and his lips slightly parted. You stared at them, perhaps far too long because you suddenly felt your cheeks hot and your breath hitch.

You were leaning in, imperceptibly and Doyoung saw.

He didn’t get away and he didn’t refuse you. Looking at his eyes for a split second you could see that he was nervous.

Then the magic disappeared again as Haechan’s voice made you both jolt again. “What are you doing? Are you coming or not?” he yelled.

_____

You were sitting down, each with their own computer, clicking and typing. Doyoung briefly filled you in, explaining again what you needed to do. You just nodded and got to work.

“When is this due?” you asked after probably twenty minutes of full silence. You knew Doyoung would be silent but Haechan? It was surprising to see him so concentrated on his work, not looking up even once, no jokes, and no smirks. He was also in a bad mood, you thought, his red swollen eyes still fresh in your memory.

“Tomorrow morning. We’ll have a meeting and we’ll present the project. Hopefully, it goes well and we can go on with it,” Doyoung replied softly, almost in a whisper. You nodded. It was doable. You got back to work a didn’t speak for some time.

God, you were about to kiss him.

What were you thinking? What the fuck were you thinking? And him? Not pulling away? Staying still and looking at your lips the way you looked at his? You could do it, right? Maybe it was possible. You could talk to him and everything would be alright. Just like you’ve always dreamed.

Right? Right?

After an indefinite amount of time, you looked up and glanced at the time.

“Fuck,” you swore.

It was already night and you did almost nothing.

Haechan raised his eyes as well for the first time and turned around to see the dark windows. “We can take a break,” Doyoung murmured closing his laptop.

Haechan relaxed on his back. “Who appointed you as a leader?” he asked amused. You smiled a little, happy to see him that way again.

Doyoung crossed his arms on his chest. “You can be a leader then.” “Okay, then I decide that we can take a break,” Haechan giggled and you chuckled as well.

Doyoung opened his mouth to say something but his voice got suddenly swallowed by a loud, weird noise.

You all looked up and in seconds water poured out of the ceiling.

You screamed and got up suddenly.

“What’s going on?” you asked no one in particular putting your hands on your head instinctively. “The sprinkles!” Haechan yelled. “But there’s no fire? Is it?” you asked looking around the room, shocked.

"Haechan Lee!" Doyoung groaned, eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to see through the drops. "It's not my fault! I didn't do anything this time!" Haechan screamed back, one hand shielding his head. "Go and stop this mess!" the older ordered.

Haechan had the time to roll his eyes before running to the wall on the opposite side of the conference room.

You whined, leaving them to their bickering and tried hard to cover the computers ignoring that they were already wet in a desperate attempt to salvage them.

Doyoung looked at you and promptly came closer, grabbing stuff and throwing it under the desk before realizing that it was too late.

He groaned again.

You fell to your knees defeated, fists holding handfuls of melted paper.

"It doesn't work," Haechan yelled. Doyoung looked at him with such anger that you sensed it radiating through him even if unable to look at him in the face. "For fuck's sake, Haechan, you're useless!" Doyoung walked over and pressed the buttons on the switchboard then looking up at the ceiling as if expecting it to stop soon.

"What the actual fuck," he swore loudly since it wasn't working indeed.

Haechan whined beside him. "This was my best suit".

Doyoung ignored him and walked towards you again, looking around for his phone. "Aren't there other people in this god-forsaken company?" "Shouldn't it stop by now?" you asked, your voice almost inaudible. "I don't know. Something's broken," he spoke more softly to you.

You patted your jacket and retrieved your phone from the inside pocket. It was slightly damp but it worked. "Here," you handed it to Doyoung as he was about to lose his mind from not finding his. He took it and putting one hand on his hip he called someone.

In the meantime, Haechan crossed the room again and looked at the desk near you and the papers on the floor. "Shit," he commented. “At least I saved on the server,” he added.

You looked at his wet strands of hair as he passed a hand on his forehead throwing them back. “Me too,” you said to Haechan, then you both turned to Doyoung.

"They're coming. Let's leave the roo-" he ordered but his voice died in his throat when he heard what you were talking about. He looked down at the computers, pale as a sheet. “Doyoung?” Haechan’s voice was low and dangerous. “You also saved on the server, right?”

He didn’t and while you’ve followed angry Doyoung fighting with an angry Haechan through the corridos directed to the janitor’s room your head was hurting so badly that you thought it would burst.

“Listen,” Doyoung stopped suddenly making you almost bump into him, “I am a fucking mess, okay?” his index was pointed towards Haechan. “I am a mess and I have so fucking much on my mind, I can’t concentrate, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and I know this is not an excuse for not doing your job well but guess what, I am not perfect, okay? I am not fucking perfect. I make mistakes and I don’t give a shit, alright? I don’t give a single fuck about anything. And now shut up and go home if you want. You’ve done your part,” he spitted out then busted the janitor’s room open and entered it.

Haechan was still in the corridor a few steps ahead of you.

You were both still, shocked by Doyoung’s rage.

But then Haechan started to chuckle softly and looked at you.

“He did it, finally,” he said, without giving you any explanation and got into the room as well.

_____

"You've already seen it, Doyoung," you whispered slightly embarrassed.

Doyoung was in front of you, one hand placed on the other hand’s wrist trying to undone his sleeves, as he watched you getting undressed.

He looked at the way your bra cupped your soft breasts then promptly turned around.

“You could have gone to another room,” his voice was steady but his reddish ears gave him away.

You were told that the janitors had clean uniforms in the storage room and now you were in the middle of getting your soaked clothes off, with no time to go home and get changed since the dear Doyoung didn’t save any of your work.

“And also, I've never seen anything," he said. "Well, I’m not saying naked but you definitely saw me in a bra before,” you replied.

Doyoung’s back tightened and he turned around, looking at you from under his wet hair. "I'm afraid you're mistaking me for Johnny," he raised his eyebrows before turning away again.

You opened your mouth to speak but you were too surprised to say anything. Doyoung's eyes were - you might dare say - jealous and furious.

Was this what Haechan was talking about before? That he’s done it? Was he talking about Doyoung just owning his true feelings and wearing him of his sleeve? Did he finally snap?

"Okay, so who is this Johnny guy?" Haechan stepped closer with a sly smile. You looked at him but he wasn't looking at you. No, he was looking at you but not at your face.

Doyoung raised his gaze for a second and slapped his shoulder. "Look away."

Haechan exaggerated a cry. “I was just curious. I don’t care about Y/N."

“How can you not care about her?” Doyoung mumbled and you swore that your face turned violet.

Haechan put his tongue in his cheeks annoyed. "Doyoung, you're so fucking stupid. So many months working together and you still didn't get it?"

"Doyoung," you called him softly. "He's not interested in boobs," you explained with a smile, still shy from Doyoung's previous words.

Haechan gulped, suddenly blushing even harder.

Doyoung turned his head around and furrowed his eyebrows at you.

Then his eyes got wide and when he looked back at Haechan he noticed his red cheeks and the way he tried to not look at Doyoung's naked upper body.

Doyoung covered his nipples.

Haechan groaned and hit him.

“I’m not interested in you either, dumbass,” he added but still turned around to not look at either of you.

_____

It was hours later and you kept glancing at the neon green number on the clock in front of you. You got back to Doyoung’s office to, well, continue or start again everything you’ve done before.

“If you’re tired, you can go home, it’s fine,” Doyoung’s soft voice grabbed your attention.

You sighed and closed your computer.

“Do you want to talk?” you asked with a low voice.

It was almost a whisper but in the thick silence of the room, disrupted only by the buzz of the computers and your breaths, it sounded almost too loud. You glanced at Haechan, fast asleep with the head on his arms then you glanced at Doyoung again and at his slightly surprised expression.

That was blunt and all of a sudden. But it was so late and you were exhausted physically and mentally and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You both knew that you weren’t asking to chat about the weather but he still wanted to make sure.

“Talk about what?”

Yeah. Talk about what? Us? Is there an us? There was only you and him and the feelings in between. Talk about feelings? Does he have feelings as well though? Talk about me and my feelings? Fuck.

You looked down at your hands still on the keyboard and at the way your fingers started to shake. You clasped them together.

“I still have feelings for you,” you breathed out suddenly, then you looked up for a split second to see Doyoung’s expression.

His eyes were wide and round, his glossy pupils shaking imperceptibly. He didn’t expect you to say it like that.

“I know,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched at his words and you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

He knows. He knows? He knows.

Of course, he knows. He probably noticed. You were no actress and you couldn’t fake your emotions. Also, you tried to kiss him just a few hours before that.

He knows.

Okay.

That’s it? And now?

You shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t think you do”.

Doyoung blinked, a single expression line between his eyebrows. “I don’t just have feelings for you, Doyoung. I am in love with you,” you confessed and this time you tried to sustain his gaze.

Doyoung’s adam apple went up and down and his lips opened as if he couldn’t breathe.

“I am foolishly in love with you. I am foolishly in love with everything you are and with everything you do,” your voice trembled. “ “When I think and when I don’t think, you’re still in my mind, roaming around the whole day. And during the night I can’t get any relief from this mind of mine because you’ll visit me again and for a while," you breathed in sharply, talking fast, "-just for a while, the gap inside of me would get filled only for me to wake up and realize that it was just a dream. I have so many feelings and all of them are consumed by you and I have so many things but they all mean nothing to me, without you. And I could blame everything and everyone for this but it’s all on me. It’s all on me, Doyoung. I knew everything and I still acted that way and when I heard you before when you said that you couldn’t concentrate or sleep or-” and you choked, tears spilling on your face.

Your hands found them and you hid your head in your palms only to jolt and look up at your side after a moment.

Doyoung got up in a second and grabbed your hand.

He was standing there with his fingers around your wrist, flushed and short-breathed.

Then he pulled you towards him making you stand up and you let him do that, landing in his arms, wrapping yours around his torso, muffling your cry with his shirt, closing your eyes, drifting away, head empty and heart full.

Doyoung was holding you tight, one hand on your back and the other one on your nape, stroking your hair and shushing you softly. “I hate to see you cry and I hate that I’m the reason for that. I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered against your temple. You shook your head with an exasperated whine and looked up at him. “You didn’t do anything, Doyoung,” you objected.

He looked at your face as well. He didn’t expect that. He didn’t expect any of that. His mind was racing and his heard was about to give up.

“That’s the point,” he explained. “I didn’t do anything. I could have tried more. I walked on eggshells around you the whole time and at the first problem I would just let you go, finding an excuse, being afraid-” “No,” you interrupted him, shaking your head again, “I don’t want to hear you blame yourself." “I don’t want to hear you blame yourself either,” he replied.

You opened your mouth but didn’t say anything, knowing how stubborn Doyoung could get.

Okay. Okay. It's fine.

“Okay, now I-” you looked at your hands, pressed on his chest feeling his heart pumping blood like crazy.

Your first instinct was to just pull yourself away, telling him that you’ve said everything you had to say. And wait. Wait for him to take the second step, to understand your thoughts without you explaining anything, just like he has always done before. But Johnny’s voice thundered in your head telling you to talk and explain yourself and to use your words, so you raised your head to look at Doyoung again.

He didn’t look away from you, not for one second, and when you locked eyes he brought one hand up to cup your face and with his thumb he caressed your cheek, removing the last tear.

“What about you, Doyoung? Do you love me?” your voice trembled.

Doyoung sighed as if relieved.

He pulled you close and cupped your face with the other hand as well.

He leaned in until breathing on your open lips.

“I love you,” he said in the tiniest of whispers.

“I love you,” he repeated. You whimpered.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you,” his soft chant continued.

He said that again and again, kissing you with little pecks, then again after the kiss got slower and as your lips didn’t want to leave each other anymore.

“Look, I’m glad you idiots finally aren’t idiots anymore,” Haechan’s voice startled you for the third time that day, “but would you get a room? If not I’m going home."

_____

You ended up all going home that night - or very early morning. The project could have granted you all a promotion but you decided that you all didn’t give a single fuck. Everything looked so unimportant now that Doyoung was holding your hand and your muscles relaxed in his arms.

You felt asleep there, in the crook of his neck, deeply, after months of insomnia.

You remembered little snaps as he carried to his car. He would shush you when your fingers gripped his shirt harder.

“Doyoung, it’s fine, I can walk. Put me down,” you whispered going in and out of sleep. “Sleep, I’ll take care of you,” and the kiss he planted on your forehead felt like a spell as you lost consciousness soon after.

You didn’t wake up a single time during the drive and it was only when you reached your front door that Doyoung woke you up by gently shaking your shoulders. “Sorry,” he said. “Last time I had luck but this time I can’t find your keys,” he added when you fully opened your eyes with a yawn. “My bag now has more stuff in it than when I was at university,” you smiled. Your voice was hoarse from the nap and from the cry you had.

Then you entered your apartment, walking slowly in silence, and you both undressed, throwing the coarse uniforms away.

You did it lazily and with no malice, looking at each other bodies, this time without blushing.

Then you sat down on your bed, completely naked and you looked at Doyoung, naked as well, standing in front of you as he removed the last piece of fabric from his body.

“Wait,” he suddenly said, and turning around he left the room. You looked at his back as he was walking away and sighed.

You couldn’t believe it.

It was so surreal.

You sighed again deeper, feeling it difficult to breathe.

You were exhausted and drained, body aching and head-spinning so when Doyoung came back with a glass of water all you could think of was the morning after your terrible meeting with Doyoung.

That time he was also standing in front of you, with one glass of water in his hand, face lit by the new rays of the sun. He had fewer clothes on now, of course, but for some reason, you started to feel as if no time has passed at all between the two events. There was no misunderstanding, no pain, no fights.

You smiled and took the water from him. He smiled back and sat down on the bed beside you. His eyes were telling that he knew what you were thinking, like soulmates reading each other’s minds and that he was thinking about it as well.

“Another thing,” he said and his voice was as tired as yours. “Someone, let's say Fate, told me to tell you that I am not married and that I am ready to fight for our love,” he added looking at you with a little nervous smile.

Your eyes widened.

“But-” you felt overwhelmed. “But the ring,” you mumbled looking down at his hands as your brain was trying to run at a speed too high for your tired cells. Doyoung looked at his hands as well before raising them up and showing that they were bare. “It was just a random ring. You assumed things,” he replied.

You looked back at his face, confused and dizzy.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why-” you gulped, “why didn’t you call?”

Doyoung sighed.

“I also assumed things. I thought you didn’t love me,” he tightened his lips. “I am sorry,” he whispered wrapping your shoulders with his arms and pulling you towards him. He nudged at your temple while you processed the information, repeating the apology, planting little kisses on your temple.

“Does this change something?” he asked after a whole minute of silence. His voice sounded afraid and you looked up at him.

“No, love, no, shh, don’t get me wrong,” you assured him with a pained expression, cupping his face.

He let you do that, slightly surprised and definitely flushed by the sudden pet-name. “This is even better, isn’t it? I mean, you’re not married,” you chuckled a little.

Doyoung cupped your face as well, his thumbs pressing at the corners of your eyes.

“Then why are you crying?” he whispered so softly that it made you sob even harder.

Your lower lip trembled looking at his eyes, at his expression, at his face, drinking him in.

“I’m just happy. And I love you. I love you so much and all of this is just-” you smiled through the tears unable to go on.

You were too exhausted and emotional to be rational in that moment. You had do idea what to do and you just wanted to be.

Doyoung’s pupils shook as he bit his lip, trying not to cry as well.

“God, how much water do I need to make you drink to make up for all of these tears?” he chuckled lightly as a few tears fell on his cheeks as well.

You were both there, naked, crying, and laughing at the same time and you’ve never felt happier in your whole life.

“What happened though? How did you end up not getting married? What did your parents-” you started to ask wiping your face. Doyoung closed his eyes and shook his head, letting himself fall down on the bed and dragging you with him. “Later,” he mumbled getting you both under the covers when you landed on his chest.

You smiled and closed your eyes as well.

And you both slept a lot, hugging each other tight, bare limbs intertwined together, skin pressing on skin, lips murmuring loving whispers. It was the highest level of intimacy, naked in front of each other, and clothes had nothing to do with it.

Your souls were open and your emotions out, telling each other everything, with no fear and with no more pride.

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