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#he's like how are u here if ur like 10 years old

tea-and-finalfantasy · 9 months

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Adri (European heritage but US born): haha Planet of the Bass is sooo funny right Torje (European born): he's saying that but he doesn't even know this is exactly what music sounded like back then other guy--who is European born but who's like 21: oh i was born in 2002 i have no idea what it sounded like either Torje: I'M SORRY??

#he's like how are u here if ur like 10 years old #hockey ocs #and then adri and torje dress as dj crazytimes and ms biljana electronica for halloween and do the song #adri would kill the biljana look but they both cant be her and song wise it has to be tor #and look wise he also kills it it's just that adri is. i dunno a lil femme sometimes i guess????#my posts

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zreamy · 6 months

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i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this.

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents.

Or to you.

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!”

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come.

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.”

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay.

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.”

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head.

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies.

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches.

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes.

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you.

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you.

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking.

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments.

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out.

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle.

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony.

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years.

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat.

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper.

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.”

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs.

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.”

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live.

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows.

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears.

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.”

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?”

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her.

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping.

Sunghoon cries again.

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word.

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.”

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?”

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected.

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him.

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?”

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?”

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him.

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way.

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask.

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.”

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.”

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor.

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you?

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set.

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away.

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been.

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same.

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks.

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear.

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.”

“You will?”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all.

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay.

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods.

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home.

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw.

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.”

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking.

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine.

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles.

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?”

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.”

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads.

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.”

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting.

“From here?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.”

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper.

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what.

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move.

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.”

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other.

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours.

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again.

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed.

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace.

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not.

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it.

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since.

Until tonight at least.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying.

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck.

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough.

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room.

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down.

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room.

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding.

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn.

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.”

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?”

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed.

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly.

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet.

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch.

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs.

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.”

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?”

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?”

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it.

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.”

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway.

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.”

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction.

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks.

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes.

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs.

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea.

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping.

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush.

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used.

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.”

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry.

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it.

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt.

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally.

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.”

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?”

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for.

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?”

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“What for?”

“Everything.”

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.”

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed.

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.”

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?”

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.”

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak.

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?”

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you.

“I didn’t.”

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t.

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff.

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.”

“You told him you were staying on campus?”

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out.

“So you just left?”

“Does it make a difference to you?”

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.”

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront.

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?”

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.”

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him.

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.”

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.”

“You’re here now, right?”

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.”

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing.

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.”

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat.

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents.

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do.

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.”

“What?”

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now.

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing.

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother.

“What’s this for?” she asks.

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince.

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family.

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you.

His chest tightens when you start crying.

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.”

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan.

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak.

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush.

You don’t respond.

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.”

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo.

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks.

“Go back to sleep,” he says.

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves.

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.”

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot.

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head.

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave?

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again. “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.”

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point.

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning.

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing.

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.”

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it.

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.”

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.”

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart.

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead.

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely.

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair.

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?”

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.”

“Yeah, me too.”

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down.

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it?

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much..

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you.

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt.

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too.

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.”

“The longest of my life.”

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her.

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her.

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work.

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.”

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?”

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.”

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.”

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind.

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand.

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together?

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you?

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him.

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.”

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides.

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day.

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.”

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?”

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.”

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?”

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.”

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.”

“Deal.”

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard.

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?”

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.”

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles.

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin.

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs.

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence.

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.”

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?”

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose.

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.”

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.”

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices.

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.”

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

“Yes. It’s three a.m.”

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.”

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed.

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?”

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.”

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way.

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?”

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed.

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door.

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing.

“Tell me.”

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.”

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm.

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think.

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring.

Oh, you think. Lovesickness.

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges.

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk.

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours.

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world.

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate.

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat.

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.”

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon.��

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.”

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.”

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest.

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it.

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.”

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say.

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon.

you: i have news wonie.. i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news?

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call?

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call.

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear.

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day.

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?”

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.”

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.”

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.”

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up.

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm.

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class?

you: of course!!!!!!

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table?

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view.

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table.

“Are you hot?” you blurt out.

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble.

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.”

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.”

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference.

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up.

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.”

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.”

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?”

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel.

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head.

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?”

Oh.

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.”

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.”

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too.

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought.

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table.

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on.

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set.

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.”

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?”��

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.”

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy.

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in.

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are?

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon.

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink.

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor.

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.”

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation.

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.”

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it.

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better.

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet.

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on.

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.”

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away.

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.”

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.”

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.”

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.”

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles.

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you.

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling.

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one.

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence.

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you.

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter.

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands.

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart.

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.”

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting.

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite.

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger.

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you.

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you.

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.”

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight.

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under.

You love him. He’s gone.

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on.

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing.

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands.

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him.

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.”

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs.

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.”

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?”

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.”

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it.

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely.

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.”

“Please can I be your boyfriend?”

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest.

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants.

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t.

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm..

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back.

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?”

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.”

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?”

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.”

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage.

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.”

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?”

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly.

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done.

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too.

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.”

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies.

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over.

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.”

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent.

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond.

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.”

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods.

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot.

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.”

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.”

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down.

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can.

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock.

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest.

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest.

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head.

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise.

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.”

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours.

You nod. “You can.”

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you.

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit.

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings.

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“And this? If you want..”

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you.

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats.

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly.

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them.

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage.

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?”

“Hoon,” you whisper.

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.”

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble.

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls.

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.”

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under.

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth.

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition.

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back.

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes.

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back.

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon oneshots #sunghoon imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.sunghoon

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solarlunarsstuff · 7 months

Note

HEY! i adore your writing :) i was wondering if you could write a semi long one shot abt reader riding mike and him being super sensitive and him whining and moaning and calling him a good boy and maybe like… spitting in his mouth… LMAOOOO

LMAO, U READ MY MIND FR ALSO, UR LITERALLY MY FIRST ASK, TY FOR THAT HERES AN AWARD 4 YOU🏅

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙

☆ Her Whiny Boy ☆

Synopsis: Even if he started the teasing it'll always end in him being a big whiny mess, and him being so sensitive.

Tw: Dacryphilia, spitting, foul language, sub!Mike and dom!Reader, dick riding, marking, penatrative sex (p in v), and pet names.

A/n: ILYYY FOR THE REQUEST GIVING YOU BIG FOREHEAD KISSIES MWAH🫶🫶🫶

For a start, Mike and you have been friends since you were both about 5 years old. He was sitting on the elementary school's swing.

You obviously decided to talk to him. That was about 20 years ago, you yourself thought that the relationship wouldn't go that far but here you are now.

Sitting on Mike's bed while he was all hot and bothered, all pressed up against you. He had his lips attached to yours for the past 10 minutes, Mike wanted more. He needed more.

But you knew, oh you knew how to pull his strings. Mike was leaning against the headrest of his bed with you straddling his lap.

You started to slowly grind into him, you tugged on his hair lightly to see his reaction. Mike's moan was muffled between the heated make out.

"F-fuck, {Y/n}, pl-please" he whined out.

You knew he needed it, but you don't want to just hand it to him, no no. You had to tease him back.

You didn't answer but you did grind down harder, he let a groan move past his lips while his head lolled back.

"Hmmm, how about I get you a little ready first? Sounds good, ay?" You taunted his neediness

Fuck he looked so hot, he looked so disheveled that it was attractive. His hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, you and Mike were both fully dressed making it a bit hard to get friction.

You reached your arms out for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head, he obliged and puts his arms up for more access.

Once you got his shirt over he wanted you to take yours off but you thought otherwise, you instantly grabbed his hands and put it to your hips that were still moving up along his crotch area.

"No, you're not allowed to touch me just yet." You reminded him

Mike whined once again, shit you needed more. You got up off of him and looked down, he had a spot on his pants that were wet. That was sent straight to your core making you soak your pretty black laced panties.

Fuck it. You pulled your top up and over yourself to reveal that you didn't have anything under, you took note that Mike had been palming himself through his jeans.

You moved closer to him letting out a big huff while gripping the sides of his pants and pulling them down past him ankles, catching his boxers along with it and onto the floor where your top was.

You were nearly drooling at his cock, he twitched making him embarrassed and tried covering his beautiful face. While giving him a few experimental pumps and saw how his tip leaked a bit of precum and he grew a bit bigger which you thought was impossible.

You let go and stood up off the bed and onto the floor to shimmy out of your own pants, also catching your laced panties and tossing it into the pile of clothing on the wooden floor.

Crawling back onto him, straddling his thighs while pumping him a little again. You brought your right hand up to your mouth and spit just to lather it into his ready dick.

Mike moaned through his anticipation of wanting to touch you. He wanted to touch you, your body, your everything. Mike needed to touch your soft skin with his rough hands.

"You can touch me now, Mike." You finally replied

Mike was so eager he dove straight for your breasts, massaging them and giving them kitten licks so they would harden from his heated muscle.

You reached for his head and shoved it into your chest more, he was like a starved man. He took the opportunity and used his whole mouth sucking and leaving hickeys on your breast so he could see them turn into a pretty purple later on.

While he was stuffed between your tits, he looked up at you with his beautiful brown colored eyes, it broke something in you.

You pulled his head away by tugging a bit harder on his hair to move him, he let out a hng from the pressure. That made your core dampen even more.

You lifted yourself up a bit and grabbed the length of his cock and positioned it in front of your sopping entrance.

You sat your whole weight down into him, you both whined in unison. Your eyes rolled back while you sat there for a moment to make sure you could adjust to his size.

You slowly started to move, you were steadily sat on his lap. Mike's cock buried deep in you, you'd think he'd split you, which he was. But you loved every single second of it.

"{Y/n}- hiccup -fuckkkk, need more. Need t' move in you." Mike complained

God he was a mess and loved him because of how he acted. At this point you started to bounce on him, he couldn't take it. Mike had reached his arms out and had a death grip on your hips.

He moved you up and down with his hands on your hips, his breathing was unsteady and his whimpers and cries of shit don't stop, m' so close didn't help you out either.

"Open your mouth." You demanded him

He indulged and open his mouth along with lolling his tongue out, you used your left hand to hold his face in place while your right was resting on his thigh for stability.

While still riding him you spat in his mouth and called him dirty slurs while you assisted his dick that was stretching you out greedily.

"Hah, being- fuck. Being such a good boy f' me aren't you.. letting me spit in your mouth." You mocked at him

Your walls spasmed around his cock that told him you were close, you rested your hands on his shoulders.

"I'm gonna- fuckin' cu-!" You blurted out

Your sopping wet cunt tightened our him and came, leaving your slick on his cock and lower stomach.

He was ramming into you at this point, his dick was kissing your cervix which made you want to cum again.

As soon as you came back from your delusions, he came, and hard. You swear your eyesight went white.

You were both breathing heavily from your highs.

"You did so good.." you mumbled while collapsing onto Mike's chest.

He didn't say anything but tightened the embrace and kissed your forehead.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

A/n: I feel like I did a shitty job one this one but I did it woo-hoo! Also I'm sorry again if it's to short my luvs :(

#smut #fnaf smut #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #michael afton #michael afton x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #dacryphilia #marking

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1-900-venusluvs · 29 days

Text

Your a real life fantasy

🔪 Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x bsf!reader 🔪

A/n: my old acc mentioned this but my lazy ass never finished it ☹️ but Miguel’s ur bsf in here dw. BTW GUYS THERE IS A PART 2 THERE IS GONNA BE A PART 2!!

Cw/trigger warning: self masturbation, shitty ending u alr know😔 n this man is FERAL for u

You two were in your room as Miguel was sitting in your bed, while your laying down bored out of your mind. The summer heat beams in the room causing you to change into less, but simple. He notices your bare thighs and instantly looked away. He didn’t have a problem when you wore revealing stuff cause you trusted him and he trusted you, hell you two were best friends for 10 years. You rolled over while looking at your phone before you break the silence.

“Miguel m’ bored…dance or something I dunno” you whine out as you suggest him dancing as a joke, he doesn’t admit it but he likes it when you whine. It’s cute.

“Like I’m supposed to shove a stick up my ass and do a magic trick” Miguel snaps back playfully.

“Haha so funny..” you say sarcastically but suddenly you see a photo on instagram that makes you giggle like a maniac.

It was a guy with a fucking ghost-face mask.

Miguel takes a peak at your phone before snickering with you, it was hysterical how bubbly you got when you saw someone with a mask. He turns to you before asking still holding chuckles back.

“Don’t tell me you have a mask kink or some shit?” he said with his eyebrow raising, he was dead serious.

Were you serious?

You nod your head before covering your face in embarrassment still laughing. He feigns a chuckle while his mind was going in all different ways. Clearly as the day go by and he goes home he thinks about what happened in the past. His blood rushes to his cock as he thinks of you. He shrugs when the fact of him being alone reminds him. He takes down his pants and instantly starts jerking his cock. He opens his phone with the free hand and goes to both of your chats and scrolls back. He checks out the photos you send him and groans. Suddenly, scaring him a text message pops up.

Y/n: I miss you :( hang out at my house tmw?

He shakes a bit from how you all of a sudden texts him while he’s jerking his cock to you. He responds before turning off his phone

Annoying spidey: after i do parole ofc.

He tugs at his cock again letting out a sharp sigh. the thought of you is overbearing, what it would be like if you rode his cock or how your lips would look sucking his cock.

“Fuck mamas…yeah? Wanna moan all on my cock?” He speaks to himself as he keeps tugging at his thick cock.

“God that pussy must be a dream..” he says again imagining your puffy lips hugging around his cock. Moments later thick ropes of cum leaves his cock as his head flies back in pleasure.

God he fucking loves you.

Sweat drips down the back of his neck, as some tiny hairs sticks to his forehead, Panting with his soft cock going limp and laying down on his thighs. He pulls back up his pants before picking back up his phone. He checks his notifications to see a message from you.

Y/n: I have so much to tell you I’m coming in 5.

And here’s to my taglist🥂: @monstera02 @muchosbesitos @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @yournextbimbogf @blahblahblahblueslol

If you would like to be in the taglist js dm me, that’s all🫶!

#miguel o'hara #tumblr fyp #x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #foryopage #miguel atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #Ghostface! au #bbsf!miguel #miguel smut #miguel o’hara blurb #smut blurb #taglist

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months

Note

YAY ur back we missed u babes, did you see the kelce documentary trailer, where Travis is holding the lil baby and Jason is just like “like a football” like 🥹🥰🥹🥰🥹pls can you write a little blurb on that if u can 🤍

I did! I hope Travis gets to have his family soon because I know he's going to be an excellent father. This blurb is focused on the first night Travis and the reader brought Alex home from the hospital 🥹

The First Night

Travis knew football; it was his whole life. He had 10 years under his belt, along with the injuries to prove it, but he was only sure of two things in his life, and football was one of them. The other one was that he loved you with his whole being. He knew it wasn't much, but his love for you could move mountains, and it created a new life, a bundle of joy that somehow fit perfectly in his hands.

The house was calm and quiet as you slept; bringing Alex home had taken all of your energy. It was late, the sun was set to rise in a couple of hours, and Travis had only closed his eyes once in the last several hours. He just couldn't take his eyes off of his son, committing his face to memory. Even at only a few days old, Alex looked exactly like you, short of the big blue eyes he got from Travis.

Alex wriggled in Travis' hands, taking the first of many breaths in his new home as he slept peacefully, and Travis hoped that Bubba couldn't hear his heart beating out of his chest. The hard part was over, he thought. His son was home, you were healthy, his family was complete, and yet, he was terrified, realizing that the hard part was truly just beginning.

"Just like a football", Travis quietly chuckled to himself as his brother's words echoed through his mind. He had vivid memories of holding Bennett for the first time not that long ago, and how fragile she felt in his arms. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of cries escaping Alex's tiny mouth.

"Hey, hey, little man. What's wrong?", Travis whispered. The sound of Travis' gruff voice calmed Alex immediately, his eyelids fluttering as he self-soothed with the help of his pacifier.

"So, what do you think?" Travis looked around the dimly lit nursery, each piece meticulously picked out by you to match the cottage-inspired aesthetic you had been planning for the last nine months.

"We both hit the jackpot, Bubba", Travis admitted, as he pulled Alex up to lay against his bare chest. "You've got the best mama anyone could ever ask for. She makes me believe that I can actually do this whole 'dad' thing" Travis laughed as Alex grunted, "I know, I know, I can't believe it either. I promise you this though, I'll try with everything I have to be the best father I can be to you." He placed a gentle kiss on Alex's forehead.

"We've been waiting for you to arrive for quite a long time, bud." He grazed a gentle finger underneath Alex's chin. "I can't wait to see you smile for the first time, and take your first steps. I want to be here for everything just like my dad was for me."

"What are you two talking about?" You gave Travis a small smile when he looked over at you propped in the doorway.

"Uh, football. Just running Alex through some formations. I've got a legacy to protect, babe." Travis winks at Alex. "Isn't that right, bubba?"

Travis now knew three things for sure: football, loving you, and at this moment, he had never been happier.

Taglist:

@sporadicpaperchopshop

@marz22224

@rosesnothornes

@macey234

@amylouwho9

@jackharlowscumslut

@gloriousmessofagirl

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@there-goes-thefighter

@kmc1989

@princessmermaid1289

@fantasywritersstuff

@kelcemenow

#travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #traviskelce #travis kelce #nfl fanfiction #nfl fanfic #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce fanfiction

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crushedsweets · 11 months

Note

Can you draw or talk more about Toby and Eyeless Jack or even the X-Virus?

YESSSS i can. heres a lil doodle to get me started.

OKKKK the little concept in my head has slender's MAIN GOAL being to prevent any paranormal/supernatural stuff coming out to the general public. hence his proxies being made to get rid of tapes, evidence, and kill if Necessary. sometimes slender makes paranormal/supernatural ppl help out his human proxies "as payment for refuge" in his forest. SO that sorta explains how toby and jack know each other and why jack helps at all. he can't rlly go out to the public so he's stuck with these assholes. it's not really supposed to be a 'mansion' trope, moreso random cabins and shelters littered about the forest, but it could work in the mansion au too

Imma ramble abt toby n jacks friendship (in my head) under the cut + a random x virus doodle

as for toby and jack specifically. toby is impulsive, aggressive, can't feel pain, and doesn't know what's good for him, so he's forced to get help from jack a good bit. for a long while there was hella tension between them since, again, jack isn't helping these guys out of the goodness of his heart. he's helping them bc the forest their boss resides in is the only place he's relatively safe. jack has a weird mix of a inferiority and superiority complex, since he envies toby's humanity but also feels like he's 'better' due to toby's own . . violent habits. toby thinks jack is pretty cool from the get-go ('wooow ur grey..') but he gets pissed off with jack's questions and demands of 'DONT RIP UR FUCKING STITCHES' and 'u have a concussion don't fucking scroll on your phone for 5 hours a day'.

toby has no idea if these demands come from actual concern or annoyance, and frankly, neither does jack. regardless, toby's with jack a decent bit. partially since jack makes a lot of people really uncomfortable so it's easy to go hang out with jack when he doesnt wanna deal with anyone else but still wants company. eventually theyre capable of some decent banter and conversations. theyre both mamas boys so thats a very weird touchy topic that they kinda dance around but both feel very deeply and know the other relates. THEY MISS THEIR MOMS SO BADLY.. :( mayhaps one year toby helps drop off flowers to jack's moms house for mothers day. jacks way too ashamed to even get within a 10 mile radius of his mom. that's kinda the moment things really shift between them and they actually become friends.

toby also asks abt university. lyra was at community college until she passed, and toby never considered college as an option, so he gets curious on what he missed out on. he also likes to share stuff abt lyra and their old shenanigans. tim and brian have used his childhood against him multiple times before, and it's not like he's gonna trust ben or jeff with that information. jacks sort of like a void he could talk into. jack feels uneasy talking about his life before the sacrifice, since he misses it so unbelievably bad, but toby accidentally got him to talk about it while treating a burn before.

ok and to top this fucking essay off heres xvirus. i had no idea he existed until this year and someone sent me an ask about his updated design, so he's some scribbles for him :9 his concepts super cool tho so maybe ill get more into him later on

#THEYRE BEST FRIENDS UR HONOR...#but seriously thank u for the ask #i love getting to ramble. im still working on the confidence to just post headcanons unprompted LOL #ok i gotta go to class now byyeeeeeeee #eyeless jack #ticci toby #ticcijack #eyeless jack headcanon #ticci toby headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta art #creepypasta headcanon #xvirus #toby rogers #jack nyras #sweetart #chatterbox #creeped

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sliceofajayke · 11 months

Text

enhypen as dads

here are some headcannons on how i think enha will be as dads :)

warnings; babies, talk of pregnancy, theres a mention of sex in hoons but nothing graphic.. thats all i think but plz lemme know if you see anything that should be added<3

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated<3

heeseung <3

-okok right from the beginning, when he had first found out u were preggers he started singing to ur belly

-and at night he cant sleep and he thinks ur asleep he'll talk to ur belly

-like if ure having really bad morning sickness he'll be like

-"hey baby,, i know ur growing in there but please dont give ur momma too much of hard time... we love you forever and always and we can't wait for you to get here"

-and suddenly the next day you got no morning sickness!! so hee kisses ur belly "thank u baby u always listen to dada huh?"

-okay now for gender. reveal!! he doesnt care if the baby is a boy or a girl

-he just wants to be able to hold his baby in his arms, and he got sososo excited when the doctor told yall so the doctor asks "oh were you hoping for a girl?"(first one is girl i feel like theyll all be really good girl dads)

-and u giggle "he wasnt hoping for anything specific. hes just happy that were this far along cuz that mean babes coming out soon"

-and we'll skip to birth. hee has done so much reading on parenting books, and all that jazz

-but when babygirl finally comes hes in tears and forgot everything he read. hes just too happy. he sees you holding his baby and he thinks, despite the sweat and tears. this is the most beautiful you look because you have been so strong and brave through out the whole process

-u call him over and ask if hes ready to hold her and something snaps in him "oh um... can i??"

- he just got so worried?? for some reason?? so the nurse smiles and tells him to go sit on the chair so she can pass her to him and while sitting he remembers skin to skin right right

-so he takes off his shirt and when baby is in the nurses arms she starts crying soso hard,

- but once baby was place into hees arms and lying on his bare chest she immediately stops "oh babygirl... hi its dada"

-and ik babies dont really smile unless they're pooping or smthng but the baby smiles at him with her eyes closed

-skip to her first everything,, hee has it all filmed, her first steps, her first taste of solid food, any of her first, you name it

-he'll be one of those dads who are sososo encouraging of every single thing she does

-(even if shes bad at it... "who cares what they say. if you like doing it then continue doing it. only quit if its for yourself not for them")

-shes a lovely singer, she'll somehow remember the songs hee would sing to her while she was in mommas belly and when she was a baby

-he'll cry when shes 10 years old because "my baby... shes not a baby anymore shes in her double digits:((" and she'll hug him even if she feels embarrassed and whispers to him "dont worry dad. i wont be a baby forever. but i'll always be your girl"

-thats what he calls her "my girl" he originally called u that

-and he still does,, whenever he gets home he goes "where are my girls?" or if his babygirl wins something he goes "thats my girl!"

-hes just a really good supportive dad:(( she'll even go to both her parents if shes having relationship problems because she can trust them and they are very trusting of her

jay <3

-ok so jay i think u’d just tell him straight up that ur pregnant

-u guys have been trying for a while and it finally happened so he was very very happy

-i think jay will also talk to ur belly

-he’ll tell baby a lot of random fun facts

-even tell baby about how big/small they are at the moment

-when baby comes hes just ready for it all.

-hes very encouraging of you, tells you that you did amazing before even taking a look at the crying baby

-finally when its his turn to hold his babyboy hes ready.

-the nurse takes the baby from ur arms and tells jay he can either stand or sit on the couch, he prefers to stand

-so he takes off his shirt and holds his arms out for baby

-jay cries while looking at his baby

- so baby is a bit older now, like hee. jay films all the firsts… and seconds

-baby is really smart too

-jay actually got his son an ipad

-but the kid is NOT an ipad kid, he’s actually very very good at time management???

-all the games on the kids ipad are actually some kind of learning games (reading apps, those crossword games, etc.)

-jay loves cooking and so does his son.

-it started from watching his dad cook

-to mixing the soup on the stove

-and finally to just jay watching and tell him what to do/add next

-actually on mothers day and ur birthday they’ll make u breakfast in bed

-their bond is very good<3

jake <3

-so lets say u nd jake already have some fur babies

-yall got two doggo okok so u dress them up wearing those ‘best big sister’ nd ‘best big brother’ sweaters

- “go to daddy” so they do:)

-with u following them slowly so you can see his reaction and he baby talks the dogs lol

-”now what are u silly babies wearing?”

-he takes them both on his lap and his eyes widened when he was able to read it,,

-the pups jump off his lap cuz jake sounded excited so they want to be excited too!!

-”no way…” he goes to run to you nd tbh he almost ran into you so he hugged u

-”is this for real? plz dont be a sick joke”

-”of course its real!”

-he kisses you

-a lot

-he kisses all over ur face nd all over ur belly

-so for this ultrasound its pretty late into the pregnancy and suddenly there are two heartbeat

-”oUR BABY HAS TWO HEARTS?!?”

- both u and the doctor laugh and tell him that has to mean twins

-so u guys go home and suddenly panic arises again

-”....i need to redesign the babyroom”

-u guys have a boy and a girl <3

- so both are very into music and sports

- he teaches them everything he knows and he loves loves LOVES bragging about his kids

- he doesn't do it on purpose but..

- heeseung is telling the group about how his daughter won at her school talent show and jake cant help but mention his kids

-”ohhh *son and daughter* love singing too! actually they’ve been practicing as a duo wanna see a video?!” (he’ll pull out the video before anyone can even say yes)

-hes very good at helping them regulate their emotions too, he lets them feel what it is and lets them talk about them openly

-he never raises his voice at them and if by chance his kids get so angry that they raise their voice at him??

-they’ll immediately apologize because they know its wrong and they’ll say that they promise to do their best not to do it again

-kids are hard especially if theres two the same age

-they argue a lot

- A LOT

- they always make up very quickly, jake and u don’t even have to interfere.

- BUT when u do have to interfere that means it gets really bad

- idk theyre kids so lets say they broke eachothers crayon :(

-both are crazy mad at each other, daughter is a daddys girl, son is a mommys boy

-first move as parents; get them to stop crying

-second to figure out why it all started

- “we wanted to share but we got mad”

- (y'all bought them each a set of crayons…)

- in the end, they make up and showed u their shared drawing of their family… with an extra member

“mommy and daddy we want a baby sibling”

sunghoon <3

-ok hoon wants a baby soooo bad

- he’ll always send u tiktoks of babies and their familes that show up on his fyp and goes like “could be us soon”

-what he doesn't know is that u are pregnant

-idk why u thought he wouldnt want a baby but thats what u thought

-anyway u talk to jay nd ur like “how tf do i tell him?? what if he doesnt want a baby?”

-*que sunghoon sending u another baby related tiktok*

-jay goes “... he spams u with baby and family tiktoks u really think he doesnt want that??”

-”maybe??” anyway so now u go home, thinking instead of how to tell him, not of a bad reaction from him

-finally u thought of it

-make a tiktok revealing it(not posting it publicly just yet. u just saved it to ur phone)

-tiktok is pictures with music first, pictures from ur first date, …post sex selfie(its a cute one ok like ur both smiley) of the date you most likely conceived baby

-then it comes to videos, theres one where u guys were making dinner and started dancing together,

-one where u guys are just smiling at the camera together then he attacks u w kisses

-finally the reveal of the pregnancy test and u at the end saying “im pregnant”

-so you send him that video while ur in the kitchen and hes on the couch living room

the text read “babe look at this cute baby video!!” and he clicks it so fast

-he watched it one… two… three more times and hes crying by the end of it

-”i love you so much!!”

-baby is now born and hes just the happiest hes ever been

-he has a baby boy:((

-i think he’ll record everything and anything his kid does and saves it all until his son is of age to consent to his parents to post his baby photos/videos

-his son loves it lol, he actually encouraged his dad to make an instagram for him so when hes old enough to post on his own he’ll post on that account

-but sunghoons account is basically u, his son, family photos and like a selfie every now and then

-he’ll encourage his son to do everything he wants.

-ur son wants to sing?? sunghoon will bring him to the studio and let him record a bit

-he wants to play soccer?? he’ll go to every single practice day and night

-he wants to ice skate?? hoon will be the best coach

-hoon will never ever force him though. if his kid wants out he’ll try to encourage them to keep trying but if they really dont want it, its over then

-hoon rememinds them if they ever wanna try again that they always can

-by the time his son is a teenager, hoon likes to think of himself as a dad and a friend

-so when his son comes to him with a problem hoon will ask “do you want dad advice first or friend advice first?”

-he’ll always give advice from both perspectives too so his son makes the final decisions on things based on that

-anytime u are out for business, they’ll have movie nights nd fall asleep on the couch together, ur sons head on hoons shoulder and hoons head resting ontop ur sons head<3

sunoo <3

-ok honestly see sunoo as such a good girl dad:((

-he found out u were pregnant before u even did lol

-he made u ur favorite food but u didnt want to eat it so he was like “???”

-he gets excited then says “i’ll be right back!”

-he left to get u take out and to buy some pregnancy tests. he lets u eat first then shows u the tests

-”if u arent we could always try again,, but i’m pretty sure u are” so u took a few

-all were positive

-sunoo smiles the biggest u’ve ever seen him smile

-he picks u up nd twirls u around

-so now ur going to ur 5 months ultrasound, u want to have a gender reveal party but sunoo just wants to know(he does want to have a party tho)

-he jokes with the doctor “if i slip u a signed photo card will u tell me the gender” that earned him a smack from u lol

-u give the envelope with the gender to two j’s cuz they volunteered the fastest

-as much as u guys like the whole blue for boy and pink for girls,, u didnt want that to be the colours so u did purple for girls and orange for boys

-jake and jay made cupcakes but somehow made them all brown…

-they forgot the food colouring lol

-anyway they whispered it to sunoo and sunoo begins to jump around “A BABY GIRRLLL”

-so now the birthing… sun couldnt control his face, this was a beautiful moment but gosh did it look…

-not so beautiful, but his babygirl is here!!

-after a little bit u tell him to lie next to u, he said there was no room so u made room

-”now there is room. lets look at our babygirl together” <3

-now her first birthday,,, sunoo couldnt help himself, he calls her princess so it was princess themed!

-she looked so cute in pigtails, her tiara and of course her little purple princess dress:((

-he also records everything at the party, hes vlogging it all

-so she grows up a bit nd he shows her the video as he does her hair

-”did mom do my hair or did u?” “ i did isnt it obvious?”

-“...dang dad thank goodness u got better at this” “excuse me young lady?” they laugh

-anyway now ur girl is hmm 16

-sunoo still calls her princess and she loves it. she gets princess treatment

-sometimes they even kick u out of the front seat so she sit beside her dad as she drives🤭🤭

jungwon <3

-wonie loves loves kids

-when he goes to film some content with kids he LOVES to send u little videos and pictures of him and the kids hes filming with

-when he gets home, u nd the 6 boys are there. u planned it all together

-so u ask him to check the oven cuz ur baking(u didn't actually bake it, u bought it lol)

-”babe its not even hot… are u sure u baked?”

-"oh wonnnie what did you just do?”

“...take bread out of the oven?”

-”jungwon its buns.. theres buns in the oven”

-”..what does that even mean”

-”...shES PREGENT WON.. BUN IN THE OVEN!!”

- he dropped the bread lol

-finally when it registered in his mind he ran to u nd hugged u “but why did u tell them first??”

-okay baby is born and hes in tears

-”are you okay?...our baby is crying and the doctors and nurses got him rn.” he says wiping ur hair out of ur face

-”i’m okay.. and i’m so happy but in so much pain ahaha”

-he smiled and kissed ur forehead, then ur nose nd finally ur lips.

-the nurse brings the now clean baby to u and gently places baby in ur arms

-”she looks so beautiful..” “she’s gnna grow up to be just like you y/n”

-jungwon was wrong. babygirl looks exactly like him but with longer hair hehe

-she even has his deep deep dimples, shes so cute when she smiles:((

-both of u cant even be mad that she looks like him(he realllyyy wanted a mini u when he gets a daughter)

-anyway now shes like 3? she loves calling her dadda for everythinggg

-she wants to play princess? dadda on his way

-she wants a piggyback ride for the 960427195 time? dadda is on his way

-she still counts on him always now that shes older, just now she calls him dad.

-dad always drops anything and everything for her.

-dads filming some content but his personal ringtone for his babygirl goes off. hes outta there

-she loves to dance too!!

-actually she watches jungwons dance from i-land(she hasnt watched the show yet but she seen a lot of the happier clips/edits)

-she tries to copy it a lot cuz she wants to be just like him dancing wise

-anyway shes a total daddys girl

(uncle) ni-ki <3

-alright we know ni-ki is… well you know how ni-ki is

-but he is the best babysitter ever!!

-he’ll come over without even getting asked to lol

-”hi guys i’m here to babysit!”

-”...but ni-ki we weren't even going out today..”

-”yeah well i got bored so get out of here so i can hang out with my minis”

-so they leave ni-ki with the children

- ni-ki is actually a really good babysitter, he knows how to have fun but also knows when things get too far

- “alright kiddos show me where your parents hide the candy. we get 2 pieces each after a healthy dinner”

-he knows his hyungs hide the candy high up cuz the kids cant reach it

-when things get out of hand, he will never ever raise his voice.

-he’ll give a big sigh and the kids just know to stop what theyre doing and to listen to him

-he wont ever use 'negative’ words i.e instead of “no fighting” he’ll say smthng like “lets all get along”

-then he sets up some music for them to dance to

-if they ask him, he’ll dance with them too

-they’ll even ask him to teach them and he happily will teach them

-hehe the kids will request to learn billy poco heheh

-ni-ki hates it but teaches it nonetheless

-once theyre all tired out (including ni-ki) they all sit on the couch and put on a movie

-they all fall asleep on ni-ki :)

-all the parents have pictures of ni-ki nd their kids sleeping

-actually all the kids come together and make like a slideshow of all the fun they’ve had with their favorite unlce for his birthday:)

tags; @criceofpain @celeste-hoon @jaylaxies @ajayke-reads

545 notes · View notes

sanjisboyfie · 7 months

Text

one piece smau: married to robin edition

— kinda implied that robin is some "celebrity" but i kind of just enviosioned her just being a really successful writer or smth LOL

— male reader ! ! !

liked by nico.robin, nrs.husband, and 12k others

uso_pp: bro is definitely a mama's boy

tagged: nico.robin and nrs.husband

nrs.husband: well i call her mommy in bed anyway so it checks out

-> uso_pp: DEAR GOD.

dni_nami: they're both so whipped for each other, true love is real igggg

[liked by nico.robin, nrs.husband, and 90 others]

freeluffy: is it normal to be this clingy with your girlfriend...[name]'s behavior seems concerning guys ://

-> roro.zoro: it kills me how serious u seem about this

princesanji: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEE

liked by nrs.husband, dni_nami, and 30k others

nico.robin: my husband is so thoughtful - he's never forgotten to give me floewrs whenver my older ones die <3

tagged: nrs.husband

nrs.husband: if my baby loves flowers IMMA GET HER FLOWERS

-> nico.robin: and i'll treasure them each time my love

princesanji: robin, i too, remember that you love flowers - do you love me now :3?

SUPERCOLA: i thought im the ways of being a SUPPPERRR husband well

-> nrs.husband: SUPPPPEERRRR

dni_nami: were these from your garden?

-> nico.robin: yes :) he has been tending to them ever since he planted them for me so now that they're grown, he made them into a bouqet

[liked nrs.husband, roro.zoro, and 100 others]

-> dni_nami: UGH I DONT KNOW WHY I BOTHER ASKING it's too cute i might kill MYSELF

liked by nico.robin, princesanji, and 20k others

nrs.husband: before and after the event, so proud of my beautiful girl

tagged: nico.robin

nico.robin: your support means the world to me <3 i love you so much

-> nrs.husband: if you have 1000 fans, i'm one of them. if you have 100 fans, i'm one of them. if you have 10 fans, i'm one of them. if there are no more fans of nico robin in the world, then i'm dead. i love you so sososososo much more my love

uso_pp: someone check up on sanji-

-> roro.zoro: i just heard a thump from the room over, i'm gonna assume he just fell to his knees

skullnsoul: such an elegant couple - YOUNG LOVE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

-> nrs.husband: brook you're like ten years older pls ur not an old man yet LMFAO

-> nico.robin: thank you brook :)

liked by nrs.husband, dni_nami, and 20k others

nico.robin: my favorite place in the world is his arms

tagged: nrs.husband

nrs.husband: i'll start crying right now.

nrs.husband: I DONT DESERVE YOU UGH

uso_pp: photo creds robin?? cmon now my work aint free

princesanji: what did [name] do in a past life to deserve a goddess such as yourself, robin-chan?

-> nico.robin: sanji you need to move on <3

[liked by roro.zoro, dni_nami, and 400 others]

freeluffy: mama y papa :DDDD

-> nrs.husband: LUFFY LMFAOOAA

liked by uso_pp, nrs.husband, nico.robin, and 11k others

dni_nami: the one time we get to see robin and he's hogging all her attention....wtf

tagged: nico.robin and nrs.husband

nico.robin: dw nami i reserved us a girls day at the nearby resort <3

-> dni_nami: mommy? sorry, mommy? mommy? sorry...mommy??

-> nrs.husband: hello????

uso_pp: as if he doesn't get to spend eveyr waking second with her like cmon bruh

-> nrs.husband: my BADD for loving my wife jfc i cant win w u guys

nrs.husband: omg send me this photo she looks so cute here hehehe

-> dni_nami: stfu.

nrs.husband's story:

i love lovelovelovelove my beautiful wife. everyone is just jealous she's mine <333

nico.robin replied to your story: i wondered why nami just texted me she hated you — you're very cute with this story, [name]. i love you too and am glad that i can call you mine as well <333

#≡;- ꒰ ° smau series ꒱#one piece smau #one piece modern au #one piece x male reader #nico robin x male reader #nico robin x reader #x male reader #x reader #nico robin imagines #one piece imagines #male reader imagines #one piece male reader #robin x male reader #robin x reader #one piece robin x reader #one piece robin x male reader

236 notes · View notes

whyse7vn · 1 year

Text

4TH GEN LEADERS -

[ ot7 x reader ]

taehateclub

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: y/n i’m coming for a sleepover tn

y/n: are you sad or something?

tae: no?

y/n: ok good

no thanks then ❤️

tae: um wtf

y/n: ???

tae: the disrespect i face on a daily is not right and should be studied

jimin: don’t care

yoongi: didn’t ask

jin: L

namjoon: 10 years…

of this

jk: time flies when ur having fun

hobi: i want to blow my brains out tbh

jk: oh

tae: jungkook do you want to see a magic trick?

jk: YES

jin: do pretzels make you fat?

jimin: have you been eating them?

jin: yeah

jimin: yeah they make you fat as fuck

jin: somebody push him off a cliff before i do

jk: show me the magic trick before i kill myself

y/n: this really is my safe space ❤️

namjoon: guys we should all go to therapy

tae: i won’t

i tried therapy and the lady laughed at me

A THERAPIST LAUGHED AT ME LIKE TO ME FACE IS THAT NOT SICK?

yoongi: real

y/n: icon tbh

jimin: my therapist tried to fuck me 😞

jin: why is he lying like omg get a life…

jimin: 30 years of age and still bothering young men like me LEAVE ME ALONE FREAK

yoongi: here they go

namjoon: one day we will all laugh and hold hands

y/n: i got 50 on jin

hobi: 50 on jimin

jin: namjoon pls don’t let him come in here and lie like that it’s actually heartbreaking watching the people closest to me be so fucking delusional and deranged think about the bystanders joon

think.

jimin: END UR LIFE

jin: you first 🤭

jimin: ignoring you

y/n: i win

hobi: aw man

namjoon: are you guys all coming to the party later?

jk: what happened to the magic trick??

yoongi: 👍🏻

hobi: yes yesss

y/n: YES

tae: yup

jin: yes

jimin: NO

jin: don’t care 🥱

jimin: i’m leaving this group and leaving this country

yoongi: k?

hobi: when something is a foot long whose foot are we measuring it off?

y/n: if it’s by yoongi’s then a foot long as hell

jk: tae can you show me now?

namjoon: kook pls let it go…

jimin: i’m jumping of a bridge

hobi: how many of yoongi’s feet tall is the bridge?

jin: one foot could honestly kill him

tae: feet?

namjoon: MOVING ON MOVING ON

jk: there is no magic trick is there

y/n: it’s okay you’ll get over it my love

jk: i don’t think i will

tae: that was a life lesson

learn from it and become stronger

jk: how about you die.

hobi: WOAH

namjoon: no fighting i’m literally begging you guys

jin: didn’t know you were submissive like that

jimin: fr it’s gross as hell

he’s gonna tell us he kisses men next

jk: are you a homophone?????

jimin: are you fr rn

yoongi: wow

namjoon: don’t say anything

y/n: at least his heart was in the right place!

tae: namjoon likes men?

namjoon: no

jimin: yeah

hobi: like a stickerrrrr

jk: congratulations

tae: let’s make a song with drake

y/n: ew

yoongi: no thanks

hobi: pushing p

jimin: pussy

jk: where

y/n: ew again

jk: bts 4th gen leaders!

namjoon: ?

hobi: we are not 4th gen

jk: what?

jimin: we are 3rd gen

jk: oh my god

we are old as hell

y/n: that is actually so gross

3rd gen IS SO GROSS WE ARE OLD AS HELL OH MY GOD IMMA THROW UP

jin: ur both being dramatic

jimin: he’s only saying that because he’s been old since birth

like how you 84 out the womb???

hobi: jimin ur going to hell

jimin: we were all thinking it

jin: everyone deny that rn

…

hello?

y/n: bts 4th gen leaders i agree with jk!!!

yoongi: this does not change the reality

tae: can i be 4th gen it boy

jimin: LMAO

tae: what’s funny?

jimin: nothing

jk: i would like to be best 4th gen rapper

hobi: i’ll be best 4th gen singer

y/n: fair

ig i’ll be the 4th gen it girl

jimin: i’ll be THEE 4th gen visual

y/n: yoongi for 4th gen it boy

yoongi: :3

tae: i wanted to be 4th gen it boy wtf

jk: joon the father of 4th gen

y/n: and jin the 4th gen ace

namjoon: u guys actually delusional

tae: i agree

namjoon: pls don’t agree with me ur making me uncomfortable

tae: sorry father

namjoon: don’t be mad u didn’t get a title

y/n: tea the girls are fighting

tae: i’m not mad

i don’t even care fr

namjoon: sure

tae: sUrE

namjoon: you seem mad

tae: if you died i wouldn’t care

hobi: 4th gen loser

tae: hoseok wtf

hobi: who said that?

y/n: 4th gen furry

tae: ummm?

jimin: 4th gen broke boy

tae: i asked for money ONCE

yoongi: 4th gen bitch

tae: LEAVE ME ALONE

jk: i’m glad we all have titles now

4th gen is not ready for us

y/n: FR!!!!

—

kinda short pls forgive me

264 notes · View notes

cocogum · 3 months

Text

Let’s TALK about episodes 9 and 10 people… (part 1)

PART 2 : HERE

(‼️SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4‼️)

If you thought episodes 7 and 8 had so much to talk about (cuz I sure did), then episodes 9 and 10 destroyed my mind.

….

I am so tired.

We begin with a small recap of what happened last episode and it’s honestly very nice and heartwarming of Ankama to remind us that Yugo will get his ass handed to him in a few minutes.

BRO LOOK AT HOW THEY’RE DRAGGING HIM ON THE DIRTY FLOOR LIKE THAT!!

The level of disrespect these thirsty hoes have for him is immeasurable. Even if Yugo’s not a kid, the fact that the necromes didn’t hesitate to tie him up like that and sacrifice him like a lamb is jaw-dropping. It really makes you understand that they don’t give a shit if you’re an actual kid, they will hang you up like a roast beef for dinner.

Bro’s asking as if he just got here.

Also, how do you think that fall must’ve felt like? Cuz when Toross yeets him, Yugo takes a massive fall only to get his body slammed into the pavement when he gets tied up.

He gets to fall even faster because of the stasis ropes pulling him down too.

You can even hear the loud slam when he hits it. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

Btw I love how even after all that, Adamaï and Amalia still don’t trust Qilby even when he saved them from the necrome world.

Adamaï thinks he was an idiot for not using the eliatrope Dofus and…he’s right? Cuz my guy…ur scared of ruining things if you use the dofus but what are you gonna ruin in a place WHERE THERE’S NO WAKFU????

Sometimes I can’t tell whether or not that guy’s okay in his head. Like is he blind or something? You can clearly tell that the necrome world is completely deserted and has no actual life, Amalia even CONFIRMS IT for you, Toross is literally using his dofus in his world of nothing, AND it’s also literally known as the gods’ garbage bin.

No wonder you get slapped around so much, you’re stupider than Yugo!!

I never in my life thought that I’d eventually get to see Qilby booping Amalia’s nose.

And I don’t know if I should like it or if I should fear it.

Man literally booped her as if she was a kid. But then again, he IS a millennial years old so it would explain why he’d treat her like a fetus.

In a way, he really CAN see her as a kid who doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.

But like-

I never imagined this happening???? Not even in a trillion chances 😀😀

BUT WHAT CONFUSES ME EVEN MORE IS THIS :

I get that Amalia annoyed him when she said he STILL couldn’t be trusted but what do you mean by “artificial”??? I’m still confused about that.

MY QUEEN NORA AND HER GAY ASS IS BACK WITH HER SHENANIGANS GURL WE SEE U !!

You can’t tell me this scene ain’t gay 😭😭

The way she grabbed her was so sudden, it made my heart jump!! And Amalia just goes with it like a damsel in distress being protected by her knight 🥰🥰 My noramalia senses detected that shit from a mile away, you ain’t getting away!!!

That torture scene tho should’ve taken longer ngl. But Okoo being the kid that they are decided “hell nah”. It’s still a shame really but at least we got what we needed.

Also, lemme just say something about this torture scene real quick.

Not only does Yugo get sucked the living out of him, but he just got BODY SLAMMED FROM AT LEAST 290 FEET on LITERAL PAVEMENT so now his back is completely obliterated, he keeps CONVULSING, TWITCHING, and GETS HIS BONES BREAKING TO GROW LONGER ONES-

He’s feeling all that WHILE getting sucked to death. My god. I wanted to see more of that.

The only reason why he didn’t turn out ballistic was cuz Oropo was keeping him busy in his head. He literally told him that he’ll make him fight just to not think about it.

And even though Oropo does hate him (but calmed down a bit once he reunited with Yugo), he told him that even he doesn’t deserve all of this. Can you imagine the one who caused so many calamities and was ready to kill the gods because he hates you telling you that even you don’t deserve this?? It just shows how kinky this Toross guy is.

#wakfu #ankama #krosmoz #wakfu season 4 #wakfu s4 #wakfu yugo #wakfu review #wakfu reviews #wakfu season 4 episodes 9 and 10

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posallys · 5 months

Note

ok 1 ur desktop theme is GORG and 2 i need (if u wanna) ur thoughts about the show (or show sally in gen bc ur the only one i trust with her)

thank you!! i was actually thinking about updating it but maybe i wont 🤭🤭 and i have a lot of thoughts about the show except none only very few of them are good and i will be crucified by the 13-year-olds

im going to tell you anyway.

i will start with something i like....percy being angry. like yes give me the anger of a 12 year old who feels utterly alone in the world and doesn't understand (or does and it makes him more angry)

the fight scenes are dog shit. the only kind of cool one was in the arch but it was only cool because of percy doing the bait and switch and falling through the arch...the fights are bland boring sucky whatever other synonym you wanna use

uhhhhh sally jackson is not and would never be sitting in the rain pining of the god she told to leave....and especially not to teen pop...if she WERE going to act like a 16 year old and do the pining thing it would be to fucking like...billy joel and ricky martin and donny hathaway and stuff llike that okay...

i will preface this by saying that yes i understand that talking back to an abuser the way sally does in ep 1 doesn't make the abuse less abusive....however i DO not like the fact that that scene explicitly goes against sally characterization in the books....i am not digging my book out atm but the part where percy is like "my mother has never raised her voice or said an unkind word to anyone"....me thinks the writers all read the books 10 years ago and are going off of memory alone + or their brains are so clouded by the obsessive Big Screen Need to make women a badass girlboss slay queen i fucking hate it here

LET ANNABETH BE SILLY AND FUNNY AND CUTE AND CRY AND NOT BE AN ADULT THANK YOU....hated that they made annabeth the one to realize that it was medusa and not grover...give me back grover having to wrangle percy and annabeth into backpack leashes just to keep them on task/stop them from wandering off...book trio i miss you

i absolutely ADORE leah, walker, and aryan though the three of them are so so perfect, A+ casting no notes couldn't have done it better myself. if it weren't for the three of them i would have zero hope for the show i cannot lie...they're carrying. without them it's just..bad.

the pacing???? bad.

why did we waste half of the 4th ep on the train with echidna...stupid dumb pointless i hate it here

i do like the whole not all monsters are monsters and the gods aren't inherently good just because they're gods thing they've got going on though...very inch resting...silently hoping that they do a complete 180 and have percy side with luke and redo the series from there because that would be iconic as fuck <3 a girl can dream because at least then i could take the show at face value and not take 80 health damage every time they mess up a key part of the books...im at -29834 heath rn.

where was the time at chb before the quest??? the oh so important vital scene where luke teaches percy to sword fight???? like BRO that's soooooooooooo important to ME how could you get rid of that

not having annabeth show percy around camp

additionally, not having annabeth feed him the nectar and ambrosia, WHICH BY THE WAY they haven't even mentioned in the show yet...plot armor gone rip

not the fredrick chase sympathy while simultaniously blaming the woman...........rick when i get my hands on you...

annabeth having to EARN thalia's love??? absolutely not probably one of their biggest fuck ups fr.

the scene where sally is talking about Poseidon to percy...i do not like it sam i am. bad. not wistful enough not longing enough not sad enough not gut wrenching enough...also not completely here for sally telling percy that his dad was a god because....sallys whole thing was NOT telling him in order to keep him safe...i know they changed it in the show so sally knew he was going to camp immediately but that does not mean i have to like it

the scene with sally and percy in the pool. i hated everything about that. sally would never talk to percy like that never talk to him about money never make it seem embarassing NOT TO MENTION that percy simply wasn't scared of the water. that's stupid as fuck. theres a part in the book where percy literally says being by the water calms both him and his mom like...come the fuck on just admit you can't fucking read or at least didn't read the book.

sally annabeth get behind me so they cant hurt you anymore

i did loveeeee percy praying to sally though...absoutely insane and true of them. also the "I AM SALLY JACKSON'S SON" yesss baby you tell them about your mommy!!!!!!

them making athena moa level bad in tlt is quite interesting. setting up annabeth siding with percy pretty well.

also the whole impertinence thing over medusa's head was weird to me. when annabeth first said that i had immediately thought that annabeth's impertinence was telling percy to pray to poseidon IN ATHENA'S TEMPLE bc that made much more sense to me...but whatever

the annabeth/medusa parallel is intriguing at the very least

the underwater scene with the neraid was cool even though i hated the parallel to the pool scene w/ sally.

the dumbass pinecone fate line. 0/10 did you read the book? did you pay attention to how empathetic and reflective percy was when he found out about thalia?

honestly....i think disney was just the wrong place to go with this show because it's like what...pg? it should be pg 13 and should have more... sustenance.

this medusa was so cool though. which we could've seen a fight.

i need to know how many women are in the writer's room though...because It Does Not Look Good. funny how the characters that they're fucking up are all women....crazy. weird. totally coincidental.

are we just not going to talk about the vitality and pressure of getting the bolt back on time? where is the inherent inevitable danger, the suspense, the fear of not accomplishing a seemingly impossible talk looming over everything

this is 10000% not all of my thoughts but im not going to rewatch in order to collect them all so this is what you get xoxox

#taylor answers #ask tag #anon #pjo tv #pjo tv crit #pjo show #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson

56 notes · View notes

auspicioustidings · 7 months

Note

Hohoho open to tea shop au ideas i see

What abt my favorite trope that I forgot to ask abt before….

Carried over someone’s shoulder with their hand on ur thigh or ass, and then going abt their day in front of others w u just there

😏

Brat

Words: 800

You knew you were probably playing with fire here, but it wasn't like your ankle was that bad. Just a little sprain was all, you could still do your job just fine! And you wanted to, you couldn't stand the thought of closing up shop for the day on a Sunday.

You loved Sundays more than anything. It had been half a year since you had opened and Sundays had become such a wonderfully busy yet cosy day for you. The old book club was always in gossiping away at their table. They had actually brought their own tea set and it now lived on the shelf only to be used when they were in. It's neighbour was the Japanese teaset that the D&D group that came in on Sundays used (they eagerly explained at length how it fit with their setting and how your tea blends and mochi just really fit the vibes). The father and daughter who always came in just after lunch didn't have a tea set but you had overheard that he liked pink and she liked orange so you always used the little kitschy peachy and orange fruit patterned tea set for them.

And it's not like any of your more protective customers had been there yesterday when you twisted your ankle. None of them had been in today either (you sometimes went weeks without seeing any of them which was to be expected) so you were probably safe from getting a right talking to about being on your feet. Not that the book club hadn't fussed about it, they very much had, but you were pretty good at hiding how painful it was so they didn't push.

If only John Price wasn't the most observant man on the planet when it came to you. Him and his boys had just gotten off of a mission and of course after cleaning up and debriefing they wanted to come visit their girl. You hadn't noticed them come in, too busy chatting away and pouring more tea for the group who seemed like they were scolding a set of dice.

The first hint something was off was Herzogin. She was always rubbing right up against him, Simon and Gaz while being a mean little thing to Soap. But this time she didn't so much rub against his legs as dart nervously over and paw at him.

The second larger hint was his arch nemesis, that awful cow Agnes who just wouldn't die even though she had to be about 102, looking at him with her beady little eyes and then gesturing with her head over to you. She was telling him he needed to pay attention to you, telling him something was up.

It took him all of 3 seconds to see how you favoured your right foot. All of 5 to conclude that you absolutely should not be putting weight on your left ankle at all. 10 to get to your side. Simon was right there with him, understanding the mission without words as always as he took the teapot right out of you hands so Price could heft you over his shoulder, chest to his back and legs dangling over his torso as he secured you with a strong grip to your thigh.

Your smile had barely had time to reach full wattage at seeing them before you were in the air with a little screech.

“J-John! Put me down!”

“I’ll get you another pot, any more snacks?”

“Oh actually could I get one of the strawberry mochi please? Hm? Right yeah make it 3 then.”

“‘Course.”

“Simon!” you yelled, in disbelief that he was just doing your job and your customers were straight up letting him.

Price jostled you on his shoulder to heft you to a better position for him and then walked over with you to the table where Soap and Gaz were now sat.

“What’re we thinking then lads?”

“Ye have any of that smoky tea in hen?”

“Lapsang souchong and yes, I have it in” you answered on instinct, hands pushing against Price's back so you could raise your torso and twist to look at Soap and Gaz who were very much not acting like this was strange at all.

“Aye, we’ll take that.”

Price turned with you then to make his way to the kitchen and you started to kick your legs to be put down. The smack to your ass was both mortifying and maybe a little bit exciting.

“Behave yourself luv or I'll need to tame the brat right out of you.”

Well, at least you could just bury your head in his back to try and maintain some level of dignity at how you had reacted to that.

#mhairidrabbles #mhairianswers #mhairidrabblesteashop

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months

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A Very Long, Personal [but positive] Ramble about Neurodivgerency and Character Hyperfixation

[u can ignore this if you want this is just an ADHD ramble - this is a kinda 'mask off' talk about ADHD, autism and my personal history with it all. I also talk about the upsides and downsides - and the importance of Hobie to me personally - I just wanna normalize this stuff lol]

a.k.a The story of how I sent from obsessing over him to HIM in 10 years (what a glowup on my part ik)

(I know a lot of peeps on here can feel self-conscious about being neurodivergent and character connection or whatever you wanna call it and so do I! So I wanted to write it out or just ramble for my own sake)

I don't know if it's obvious or not, but I LOVE HOBIE BROWN. I'm going to be completely candid - I think about him maybe 85 percent of the day if not more, and that's in no way an exaggeration.

No matter what I'm doing, there's a least one tab open in my brain thinking about him. It may not be the focus, but it's there.

That's just how I operate. And I've been this way for a LONG time. In fact, Hobie isn't my first 'total focus' character in Marvel.

I gain VERY deep hyperfixations on Marvel Characters, many lasting years. And there's nothing wrong with that - in fact it's rad!

!!!! ATTENTION: This is a whimsical care-free zone. For Happy Funny Folk !!!!!!!!!

Loki - My introduction to hyperfixation with characters

I don't know if this is surprising or you'd be like 'yeah u seem like the type' but I use to LOVE Loki. For YEARS.

I'm AuDHD and when I was 13/14, a freshman in HS, he was my hyperfixation. Eerything I do for Hobie, I did for Loki. I even had a Loki blog for like 3/4 years.

This was back in 2012-2013, when Avengers had just came out, and the MCU wasn't - well, the MCU yet.

But even back then, the Loki fandom was HUGE. I have no idea who was also on Tumblr back then but it was gigantic. Because movies weren't coming out every 3 months, it went on for yearrrrsssss. Art, edits, fics, everything.

I was soooo into, I loved Loki. Like Hobie, I probably thought about Loki maybe 85-90% of the day.

And sure I was doing a lot of other stuff but in the back of my head there was always the oc x canon storyline running in my head, or replaying scenes from memory and analyzing, or wondering and speculating about his character.

I mask very minimally or not at all - so everyone in my school knew me for it. And at the time I didn't know I was neurodivergent, but that didn't stop me - I was genuinely proud of it.

I wore Loki shirts to school and brought the Avengers DVD the day it dropped (this was back before streaming in ye' old 2013). I knew the Avengers movie back to front.

I saw Thor: The Dark World the day it released and SOBBED openly in the theater when he 'died'. (I remember my mom leaning over and whispering 'Do you wanna leave?' cause I seemed that upset lol)

And everyday I use to wear a necklace like this -

(credit IJSY on Etsy)

But in black, until one day I had it in my pocket and I sat on it in class and broke it in two. And people around me deadass were like 'daammnn I know that shit hurt in ur soul' cause I LOVED Loki and people knew it. And I didn't care if they did.

And I was like that for years. Overtime the Loki fandom fizzled out, especially around Phase 2 when things like GOTG first came out.

But I had a Loki fixation like maybe up until the show came out. And even then I've seen the whole thing (I ain't even like it that much 4.5/10) and I'm gonna watch the second one (I'm a fool)

But any way like to this day I still remember the first time I saw Loki and how it made me feel and I can like picture it in my head and I consider it a pretty influencial albeit mundane moment in my life.

And it was a very specific feeling but it was like as soon as I saw Loki's first scene in Avengers, I was plugged into the screen.

Other Hyperfixations - Charles Xavier, Peter Parker

All of my hyperfixations are on men in marvel and they have always been. There's been others I've cycled through, usually based on the newest movie. I even went through a LENGTHY and very in depth K-pop era (don't get me started).

Charles Xavier was a favorite of mine (from X-Men First Class), and I LOVE MCU Peter Parker. I still do. But none hit like Loki did.

There was never THAT feeling, like the fantastical electric feeling.

And I had never felt that feeling again UNTIL I SAW HOBIE (i wanna cry)

My fixation with HOBIE BROWN HOBIE BROWN HOBIE BROWN (sorry I can't say his name only one time im too excited)

In the theatre my jaw genuinely dropped like I'm pretty sure I said 'OH NAH' to myself when i first saw him

Cause he was the prettiest character I've ever seen and I mean that

I didn't recognize what that feeling was until just now like YES, it's the same feeling. And I can't even describe it.

It's like every other character is normal but as soon as you lay eyes on this character for the first time it's like suddenly they're under your skin and curled up in your heart and you can FEEL them and the weight of them PHYSICALLY like not body wise but like astral personhood wise (do I sound unhinged)

And Hobie was just so pretty.

First of all - I didn't know he was black fgsbtgtuiuigs id never heard of spiderpunk

The wicks were what caught me off guard first. I know what wicks are, I've seen them before. But never animated.

And although Miles and Gwen and Pavi all look realistic - Hobie looked real to me. The high cheekbones and broad lips, the raised brow ridge and wide set eyes - he looked different from them, not just in art style but like - I DONT KNOW.

But that's how it is, you know what I mean. There was just something in my brain that was like 'he has meaning to me'. Like 'Idk who this man is, but whatever story he's writing, I'm reading it'.

That's what hyperfixation feels like.

And Hobie in specific held and holds so much more weight for me IN ADDITION.

I started falling out of my Loki phase around Thor: Ragnorok in 2017 - which is to say I was varying degrees of 'obsessed' with Loki for about 5 years.

Around that time, maybe starting in 2015, police brutality in NYC picked up. Me and my friends started getting more radicalized, going to protests, and identifying as communists, anarchists, or both.

One of my favorite things at the time was The Black Panther Party handbook I'd found at a second hand-book store. And for a while the Black Panther Party was a special interest of mine.

It made me really interested in the 70's, the civil rights movement, and the rise of punk that happened at the same time. Around this time, I made my first 'battle jacket' with a patch that said "Black Lives Matter, Bitch." and begged my parents for a pair of doc martens.

I didn't have Hobie back then, but I have him now. And he still resonates.

There was very much a time where I was that homeless, punk teen, angry at police, who wanted to be taken in by my favorite heros.

My admiration for Hobie comes from like - everything he is. Everything he stands for and represents. I don't need Hobie like I would've as a teen. But I know deep down the healing he could bring other people as a comfort character.

Or even in terms of a good political example, or great rep for alt black people. All of it.

That can't really be said for Loki. Or Charles Xavier (even if X-men is a race allegory), or even Peter Parker.

I grew up in NYC all my life, and I LOVE Spider-man, but I never felt Connected to Peter Parker as if we lived in the same city. I never felt something in common with Peter even if he was broke too.

Hobie's just different, y'know.

The Downsides

It's easy to feel really embarrassed by all this - and even now I'm feeling shy even describing how it feels.

Cringe culture gets in your head before you know it. I'm CONSTANTLY telling myself 'no, Hobie would understand that you're neurodivergent and this is you expressing yourself he wouldn't think youre cringe youre not cringe okay' As if my comfort character Hobie Brown thinking I'm cringe is like jksjfkjf the worst thing ever - i can't, i can't with myself.

I genuinely want to hug Hobie more than I want to huge most celebrities or influential real-life people.

I genuinely think hugging him would be more healing to my being than hugging the Pope or the Dhali Lama or something. I admire him and care about him but he's NOT REAL. It's PARASOCIAL And like duh, I know that - i'm grown as fuck.

Sometimes it can genuinely get you down that you care about this character-person and you can't be with them

It's like you miss them. But they're not real and you don't know them. And I know that sounds tragic or bizarre. But it's kinda just weird. It feels weird not in a sad way, but in a 'why brain?? why is this possible in my brain?? huh???' way.

Like...I know it's parasocial, but like it's not like a fan and a youtuber. He's not real, I'm not giving him money or hurting anyone. I know there's nothing to be ashamed of, but it's just WEIRD.

Like... I know my cat isn't a person and mentally I don't see them as a person and can't like analyze them like a full formed person even if I wanted to. But with Hobie - someone who is not a person - my brain can???? Like I've never met him but like... I can imagine a full conversation with him beginning to end in his place of residence I've also never seen before??????? SO WEIRD.

Also theres that thing of him running in the back of my head 85% of the time.

Even if I'm talking or cooking or something, I'm still daydreaming about him - I have ADHD. And during those times if i'm interrupted and someone give me a THIRD thing to do (besides thing 1 and thinking about Hobie) I get irritated. Because now I have less brain room for Hobie stuff.

The Upsides

Now reading all of this you might be like 'sib this sounds like nothing but a problem r u okay' but I PROMISE ITS REAL FUN SOMETIMES

And it's nothing to feel ashamed of!

Now the last part was just a list of downsides, but the upsides are more things I can do because of my hyperfixation on Hobie that makes me happy

Like I said, I daydream a LOT. Like a LOT.

Mainly with OCs You can probably tell how much I like OCs, and how much OCs - even others', mean to me. And usually, my OCs are the ones who I see the in-media universe through. I don't have to think about making an OC much, for me personally they come fully formed. Because of this, while I'm watching movies I begin to have involuntary daydreams of where I can add in an OC, or what they'd be doing. I typically only do this for Marvel though. Hardly DC or any other media other than maybe Batman. For Loki, it was a character named Asdisira Heimdaldottir who I shipped with him. And for Hobie it's Diane Pastors (Disco-Spider).

And although I am in completely control of what these daydreams are, they are vividly realistic, and can come on at different times.

For me, it's while listening to music mostly. But anything can trigger it - from a good text post, to hearing a phrase. And these daydreams are extremely vivid. Most times, you can visibly see when I'm doing it. My eyes will glaze over or start moving as if I'm trying to remember something. Sometimes I may say 'random' phrases. I say lines from the scene I'm in outloud. (Like saying 'How could you!' in an offended tone to myself, if that's what the character in the daydream is saying). I also make facial expressions. I can do it on purpose, like hitting play on a movie and resuming where I left off. Usually, when I do this, I close my eyes. I much prefer to sit and do it without multitasking, but I often do it while doing something else.

These daydreams connect, and arcs/storylines can go on for months/years.

Usually these stories go on for months in IRL time, and span the whole history of the character. For Loki, I probably has Asdisira for 4 years at most. Which is still a LONG time. These arcs can take different pathways, and I may imagine a scene multiple times - in different ways, but usuall the timeline of the oc x canon stays overall the same. Sadly, I almost never write these down. I would pull my hair out and theres not enough time in the world for me to write Diane and Hobie's full narrative down in detail that does it justice. I wanna make a bullet list of their narrative but i dont wanna clog dashes

I can genuinely use them as a comfort character.

I don't need this much now, and nowhere as much as I needed it in high school, but having the ability to daydream vividly at will about a character you feel safe and happy with - it's dope. Sometimes it really helps. There were a lot of times I imagined Loki comforting me or showing me kindness or helping me calm down. And sometimes you can do it just for fun. Like, as a treat. Whenever. I'm imagining Diane and Hobie at a fish n' chip shop right now. It's drizzling outside and it smells like oil and Hobie douses his chips in wayyy to much vinegar. It's like I'm there. Like...I just do that. thats rad as hell. (and I don't know how to describe it if you can't do it but hopefully others know how it is but it's VIVID, like wayyyy more than any dream.)

Literally a walking fact book about them.

I'm smug AS FUCK. I use to love when dudes in high school challenged me about the MCU cause I wore a shirt. Like, oh buddy. Oh pal. Just you fucking wait. I know this character better than you know your own mother - try me hoe. I love reading characters like a book and rewatching scenes, breaking down motives, watching their movements, looking for patterns and drawing connections to real world history, cultures, or psychology. I LOVE watching behavior and personality in the movies, and making conclusions about where they'd come from, reasonably, for the character, and how it affects them outside the scope of the film.

And most of all - It's Free Joy we're almost at the end I promise

This is long as all hell and unlike my other posts there really isn't a neat little character study but uhhh I wanna end with this I guess -

The best part of it, is it's free joy. Literally.

My brain can do something a lot of others can't. I can feel a kind a comfort and understanding with a character, I can entertain myself and come up with amazing stories that have mean to me.

I can make wonderful worlds and all that without lifting a finger, and hangout with my favorite characters just by going

(literally how i be sitting there - professor x headass)

I hoping the fucking multiverse with my mind.

But there's nothing cringe about that. And there's nothing cringe about drawing Hobie for hours on end, by himself or with an oc. There's nothing cringe about thinking about them a lot, or wanting to buy or make a lot of merch.

We aren't hurting anyone. It's not like a celebrity or a youtuber. Nothing we're doing is taboo or anything we're literally just being happy. And squealing about a character we deeply love

Like..Golly if more mfers in this world were squealing like us once a week maybe they'd be happier, you know what I mean. People be walking around mad as hell at the world...like why don't you look at this picture of Hobie and calm down? That's what makes me calm down.

__________________________________________________

Anyway uh this is LONG and not connected much to ATSV but if you read down this low THANK YOU so deeply it means a lot. If you relate to this at all I'd love to hear.

And if you think I'm unhinged. Absolutely. But that has nothing to do with this and ain't nothing wrong about it, in the words of megan the stallion... 'ah'.

I leave you with this pic of Hobie goodbye :)

im using my magic autism powers to hold his hand :) now im giving him a hug im having fun

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exo-raskreia · 17 days

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you'll probably won't see this message but i'll send it anyway lol.. i love you speak your mind about how the ichihime ship isn't that great and has all the facts to bring it show that you're right. i always felt scared to say i don't ship ichihime cuz they're are alot of shippers that can get so intense about it. i always say that ichihime is a cute ship and they have their moments(i don't feel that way at all lol) cuz i don't want to be attacked for not liking how their story played out. twitter is a scary place oml💀 and they made me sorta believe that ichiruki doesn't have any chemistry and they're just siblings when i knew in my heart like yes they do have chemistry and are the superior ship. like ichigo cares more for chad and uryuu then orihime. but since their canon, i guess their love for each other is supposed to be legit. apparently ichigo sees his mother in orihime so i don't understand why that's not a turn-off for the shippers😭so yeah thanks for making me go back in my bleach fangirl era and making my 10-year old self to not feel guilty and stupid shipping ichiruki

Wow, thanks so much, anon! And ur welcome! I will forever be on IchiRuki's side no matter what anyone says 😤.

You don't have to be scared to support what was, and still is, the most popular ship in Bleach (and rightfully so). There was no real ship war during its run (despite what the antis try to claim now), as IR was shipped by most of the fanbase. IR had everything you could hope a M/F ship to have in a battle shounen, the most solid basis for becoming canon with just one more step...and yet... (Kubo fumbled 🙄). The theories on that are interesting...

While more than half the IR fandom is no longer active after that disastrous ending, it doesn't mean they're not still out there. I've seen even non-shippers still praise IR & see it as wasted potential & whatnot (triggering antis in the process 🤭). Not being canon doesn't take away from the fact that it is still the superior ship. Anyone with reading comprehension who reads the manga will see it & wonder why they didn't end up together.

IH was never popular in Japan. It was always far below IchiRuki & UlquiHime (Ori's most popular ship 👀. Kubo achieved in ONE arc what he couldn't achieve for IH the entire manga, like-). To this day, those 2 ships get more content than the canon ships 😌.

The antis are just triggered that despite becoming canon, their ship is still. not. popular. IH doesn't have nearly as much content (both canon AND fanon) as IR & UH despite being canon for almost 10 years. Yes, Kubo himself doesn't care enough to give them even one family sketch 🫢.

Compare that to the Naruto endgame ships (mainly NaruHina & SasuSaku), which have way more official AND fan content. Those were always popular, & still are, 10 years later since becoming canon. Pro-Bleach ED fans love to compare their ships with Naruto's yet are nowhere near as popular.

The IH's really thought they would get the NaruHina royal treatment after the ending (you know, like a movie, official drawings from the creator, interviews saying they were meant to be, merch, etc.), but instead only got a novel that wasn't even focused on them (Ren/Ruki is more popular than IH but mainly because of Rukia 🤣), which vaguely went over their so-called "development" & had chicken scratches a rough draft of a sketch for their ship 🫢. Kubo also invalidated the IH's claims that Ichigo always liked Ori, by saying in the JET interview that "vague feelings" began in COLLEGE 💀 (and AFTER Rukia's wedding, mind u). So, whatever the IH's claim is a romantic moment between them meant NOTHING to Ichigo in the ENTIRE manga 🤣.

The WDKALY novel has such OOC content on there, like it can't be taken seriously. Apparently, Kubo barely had any involvement with it anyway? Those sketches he drew sure are telling, esp if he calls his drawings here as a "rough draft" 💀

"Chicken scratches" for the canon ships, fr 😭.

RR is another dumpster fire but also more meh for me so I don't have to delve into that one, however, here's a post I once made where I go over why I don't truly believe Renji had feelings for Rukia. Meanwhile, Rukia's sad expression on the novel cover & the sketch of heading to the altar with a scared expression (not even when she was headed to her own execution did she look like THAT) say it all anyway 🫢.

Oh, man, there's just so much to make fun of for the canon ships. Even when we lose, we still win. IH's have no content, so maybe that's why they're so bitter & IR & its shippers still live in their minds rent-free despite them calling it a "dead ship". You would think they'd happily enjoy their canon ship & yet... They get triggered whenever IR fanart garners thousands of likes on Twitter 😩...

So, anon, I suggest not to engage with antis, esp on platforms like Twitter & Reddit. They're cesspools full of dudebros & loud IH's. Ignore, block, &/or mute them. No need to try arguing with them & please do NOT cater to them. Do NOT give them the validation they don't even get from Kubo himself, nor his affiliates (LMFAO). Use that energy to look for other fellow IR's & enjoy IR content (and maybe anti-IH content in the right places; you can explore that tag on my blog if u wish 🤪).

As an old saying in this fandom went, "Keep Calm & Ship IchiRuki."

#anti ichihime #ichiruki #anti bleach ending #anti bleach 686 #anti renruki #anonymous #reiapost #slight edit

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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fic rec friday 10

welcome the the tenth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. A Rain-Check on Redamancy by @youraveragemushroom

Burnout these days usually came from working long nights at the Garrison. If Lance from five years ago could see himself today—working part-time to rebuild Earth and full-time as an instructor at the very same institution that gave him his crippling anxieties—he would probably shit a brick. Hell, five years ago he hadn’t even known aliens existed (although he always knew deep down that humans weren’t alone in the universe), and now he’s best friends with multiple! One of which had apparently texted him an hour ago.

Forgoing proper texting procedure due to fatigue and general doneness, Lance tapped on the icon to call back.

“Hello?” a familiar deep rasp answered from the other line.

“Hey, mullet,” Lance replied, pushing aside the papers in front of him to lay his head down on the desk. “What’s cooking?”

In which Lance finds himself ignoring how late it is and indulges himself in pining after Keith. Which becomes slightly more difficult when said object of his affections shows up in the middle of the night to rescue him from paperwork, stress, and the melancholy that came from being away from him.

the ‘god i wish you were here’ ‘look behind you’ trope will get to me EVERY single time idc. always makes me all stimmy bc its THE epitome of romance. this whole thing was so so romantic and full of parallels to the first episode to show how deep their relationship has gotten...i love me some romantic parallels fr

2. sweetheart by @jilliancares

“Sorry, babe,” Keith says. He even smiles, no doubt proud of himself.

And Lance knows it’s his fault. He started it, after all, but at least the biting term of endearment made sense when he was the one doing it. Keith had been talking to him like they were some old married couple. The kind who’ve been married too long and don’t love each other anymore and gripe over meaningless shit, only managing to piss each other off even further.

That’s why Lance called him dear. Because it made sense in the situation. It was a calculated insult. A strategic jab.

Keith, on the other hand, is weaponizing the term of endearment without any rhyme or reason, simply to get back at Lance.

Or: Keith and Lance have gotten into the habit of using pet names as condescending insults. They're not really terms of endearment.

ooooooo god endearments going from sarcastic to desperately genuine and the inherent hopelessness in that....whew boy. its def a Concept that u indulge and then you have to clutch ur stomach. i remember reading this as i was getting ready and brushing my teeth and the cliff scene made me gasp out loud and stop just to i could pay Full Complete Attention

3. don’t speak the language by @goldengalaxies

“More importantly” Lance says. “I am currently having a breakdown in this lift because look at him- I am so incredibly gay.”

“Lance!” Hunk buries his face in his hands. “He could speak English you know, your skills of deduction are really not that good.”

Lance ignores his warning in favour of groaning dramatically. “Oh, Dios mio, Hunk, he’s so gorgeous. Look at those muscles. He could probably bench press me.” Lance fanned himself. “Oh my God, fencing is my new favourite sport, fuck swimming.”

(or the one where Lance thirsts after a random guy in the lift who he thinks can’t speak English. lance is very wrong and hunk is very much done with his shit.)

let me tell u about this fuckin FIC. it’s hilarious, but i first read it before i meticulously started storing and bookmarking my fave fics, so when i wanted to reread it i couldnt find it. but i KNEW it was hilarious so i spent fckn hours looking for it, and it took me hours too bc i coulnt figure out which tags to filter. but it was WORTH IT. the entire concept of this fic is hilarious and makes me laugh. amazing work.

4. Whose bright idea was this? by IronScript

When Lance is captured during a mission with the MFE pilots, he wakes up aboard Haggar's ship, though the witch herself isn't there, so he figures why waste an opportunity? Then he finds something that he definitely hadn't expected.

All the while, he has no idea that back at the Garrison, his team and a few select others are watching his every move.

bro the idea that the team is panicked for lance’s safety and they desperately organise a rescue mission for him terrified that hes getting tortured and losing hope but by the time they find him he’s already got one foot out the door and has rescued himself is ENDLESSLY funny to me. like he really said ‘damsel in distress who’ and i love him for that lmao

5. Garfle! Warfle! Snick! by IronScript

How the game show episode actually should have happened.

I'll admit to being a Lance stan, but even people who don't like him seem to agree that he was really fucked over in this episode. So here's my attempt at it. Is it more realistic than what actually happened? I like to think so.

another ironscript fic bc they nail bamf lance. this is how the gameshow WOULD have gone if vld gave a shit about their characters like actually. like yes of course the team is proud of each other and capable of acknowledging mistakes. of course keith knows lance’s worth. of course lance is a badass. of course the team knows wtf theyre doing. love to read this when i get mad about the game show

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#have a lot of fics i Looked for today #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #bamf lance #team as family #klance #pining lance #soft klance #fic rec #fic rec friday #longpost

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