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#i hate disney as much as the next person
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I haven't even watched She-Hulk, but I know Matt is back this week. But I swear to god if I have to see people say "oh my god they ruined him" just because he's quippy I swear to god I'm gonna start breaking kneecaps.
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forestlion · 2 years
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ive come to find those serious movie and like. social issues... male... youtubers... with their long format content. grating to watch. im sure what theyre saying is very left wing liberal woke but my god. some of the arguments do be deadbeat horses atp
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As of the latest chibiverse episode Anne Boonchuy has gotten over her unreasonable hatred for theatre i am so proud of her
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stackthedeck · 2 years
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Also, Everything Everywhere All At Once is genuinely one of the best movies I’ve ever seen in my life. Everyone needs to see it. It’s about everything that matters. It is Real.
Multiverse of Madness has nothing to recommend it but getting to see one of the most obnoxious Marvel characters get slaughtered, and I don’t have to pay for that, I can watch him die from the comfort of my own home on YouTube
I really need to see everything everywhere all at once but none of the theaters in my area are showing it (perks of living in a small town) and I really enjoy a24 so I’d rather not pirate it I’ve heard great things about it and I’ve very excited to watch it once it starts streaming
I am going to watch multiverse of madness because I unfortunately do like blockbuster movies I just got home from school so I’m going to see it with my siblings, that’s like our thing we watched all the superhero movies in theaters together, I buy the popcorn, my brother buys the drink, my sister sneaks in her impressive candy stash it’s a tradition
Needless to say I’m hyped for both these movies but for very different reasons!
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mtomauw · 10 months
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The only thing I need tumblr to do is to get like... cool with the idea you can hire people here to do commissions for you and to like.. consider monetary support for artists cuz one of the reasons and the biggest reason I moved to twitter in the first place is because people there buy my art. I make a living there doing art. And the vibe here is **we don't do that here** If you want artists to be here and do art you gotta be okay with the concept of artists trying to make money. I hate capitalism as much as the next person but I'm also 30 years old living with my fucking parents because I can't pay for a 1 bedroom apartment. Artists are not 'big business'. We're not Disney. We're just people trying to make a living or some money for groceries and shit.
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riality-check · 8 months
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The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.
"You're not going."
"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"
"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."
"Steve-"
"And if you throw up in my car-"
"Oh my God-"
"I'll kill you."
Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.
"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.
He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.
"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.
"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.
"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.
He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.
(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)
"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.
"You baited me into it."
"I did no such thing."
Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"
Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."
"Sorry dude."
"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."
Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.
"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"
"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."
"All I'm saying-"
"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."
Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.
"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.
"Five more minutes," Anna tries.
"Nope. Clean up and roll out."
"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.
"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"
Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"
"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"
Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.
"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."
Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.
Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.
But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.
Success by all metrics, really.
Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.
They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.
He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.
The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.
At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:
Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.
-Eddie
Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-
Hang on.
He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-
No way. No way in hell.
It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-
"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.
Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.
Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.
"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."
Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.
"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."
Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.
"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"
Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.
"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."
At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.
Because what the fuck is happening right now?
His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.
Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.
Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.
When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.
"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.
"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.
The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.
And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.
Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.
Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.
Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.
He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.
Sweet Jesus.
"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"
The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.
Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"
"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"
"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.
"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."
"How do you even-"
"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"
Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.
"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."
"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."
"Well, I have it now."
"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.
"He left me his number on the seat."
"Text him."
"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."
"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."
Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."
"Have you looked at him?"
"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."
"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."
"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.
"Text-"
Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"
"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.
"I bought them."
She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."
Steve stares. She stares right back.
He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.
With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:
I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.
He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.
Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?
Part 3!!
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hyunverse · 1 month
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wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.
hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.
wc: 12.9k words.
warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.
note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.
playlist.
Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.
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one.
“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”
It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday. 
Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight. 
He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence. 
After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show. 
“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.” 
Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.
To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes. 
“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.
Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.
In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.
You’re a girl. 
You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl. 
A very pretty girl.
It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it. 
His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 
“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”
Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you. 
Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.
He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him. 
“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.
“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.
Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose. 
“White!”
The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend. 
“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?” 
“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.
He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought. 
“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!” 
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”
You pouted, “but that’s what I want!” 
The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour. 
“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.” 
It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time. 
“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?” 
At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”
The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly. 
“You’re my best friend in the world!” 
Hyunjin felt like he could die. 
His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red. 
“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”
At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.
two.    
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.
It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet. 
Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.
“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.
“What?”
“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer. 
You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.
“Have you asked me the same thing before?”
He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”
“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”
“It so was!” 
Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said. 
You queried again.
“What did you answer then?” 
Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.
“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”
Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.” 
A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red. 
Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap. 
You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb. 
He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.
A fact you didn't want to accept.
It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories. 
In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”
“Hm?”
“Would you be wherever I am?”
Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.
It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.
They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.” 
Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you? 
Dear universe, be good to me.
You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly. 
“I’ll be wherever you are too.”
Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.
three.  
Don’t be a coward. 
Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage. 
It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you. 
Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could. 
Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could. 
Okay, step number one failed. 
“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.
“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”
“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.
“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin. 
Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.” 
Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him. 
“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”
Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.
“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff. 
Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.
It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell. 
Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.
“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”
Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.” 
The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.
Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked. 
Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”
He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.” 
“Yeah?”
You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.
“Hyunjin, what’s up?”
He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.
Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”
Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered. 
“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”
The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.
“You were saying?” 
Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin. 
“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.
So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.
“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”
four.  
The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue. 
It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head. 
“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after. 
“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger. 
Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next. 
Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.
“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper. 
On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over. 
“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”
“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.” 
Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you. 
“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are. 
He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now? 
Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.” 
A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug. 
“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.  
When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself. 
“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”
You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.” 
How was he meant to tell you about Paris?
“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”
Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more. 
Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall. 
“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.
“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.” 
You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.” 
Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts. 
His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead. 
Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck. 
Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need. 
“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
The exact words he did not need to hear that day.
How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now? 
Especially when he was leaving — oceans away. 
five.  
Hyunjin had always loved soccer.
Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field. 
Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.
He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would. 
Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat. 
Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?” 
“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”
“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”
Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. 
“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.
“It’s Yn, isn’t it?” 
“Huh?”
“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.” 
Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.
“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”
“The fact that you like her?”
“Yeah.”
Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.
“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.” 
“Why?”
“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”
“I mean —”
Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”
The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side. 
“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”
Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back. 
“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”
Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it. 
Bitter truths, but true regardless.
six.
“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”
“Please, stay patient. Will you?”
Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.
“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!” 
“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”
Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.
After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink. 
Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.
The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense. 
Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in. 
You were as pretty as the flowers. 
“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you. 
From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness. 
“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”
Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms. 
Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.” 
Like a scene from a movie.
Like he wasn’t going away soon.
Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal. 
“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.
Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”
You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”
“You look good from any angle.” 
Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then. 
“Okay…”
Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.
“You didn’t even count to three!” 
Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.
“I wasn’t ready!”
“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”
“So you’re calling me pretty?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”
Right. He has never. 
You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.
Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo. 
Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever. 
If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.
“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”
Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience. 
“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”
“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”
“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”
Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him. 
“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his. 
Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now. 
Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too. 
If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey? 
He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.
Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours. 
Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.
Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.
Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway. 
“I win.”
The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face. 
“Oh.”
The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things? 
Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about. 
Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.
Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks. 
“See you soon?” you mumbled. 
Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.
You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way. 
Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face. 
Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.
“Yeah, see you soon.”
The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you. 
seven.  
One day before your birthday. 
It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.
“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.” 
She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all. 
“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”
“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”
“Of course.”
You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal. 
“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”
Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say. 
“My girl, did he not tell you?”
Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.
Was there? 
It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze. 
“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”
“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”
“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”
The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.
You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”
Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”
Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room. 
He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears. 
Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.
When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth. 
All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty. 
All traces of Hyunjin were gone. 
The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal. 
“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.” 
More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along. 
The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart. 
Your best friend was truly gone. 
“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.” 
The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn. 
If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter. 
“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”
The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more. 
“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”
It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay. 
You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse. 
Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.
In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.
eight. 
“Coffee, or tea?”
A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip. 
“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath. 
“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”
Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time. 
The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.  
“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”
The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do. 
Hyunjin wanted to turn back.
Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?
If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him? 
Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over. 
The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.
Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you. 
Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear. 
You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more. 
As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.
The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment. 
No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five. 
Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time. 
His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you. 
Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
nine.  
There are five stages of grief. 
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things. 
Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.
Motivation.
After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them. 
Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.
Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.
Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it. 
Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.
Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries. 
“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!” 
The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip. 
Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking. 
Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.
He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin. 
Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.
“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”
“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up. 
Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man. 
You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.
“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”
Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”
“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”
How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap. 
You were confused.
Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”
You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”
She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”
Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back. 
It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.
Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.
“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”
“Secret lover?”
“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”
Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.
How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?
Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue. 
Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.
ten.
You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.
For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?
Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.
Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.
In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.
A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it. 
9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.
One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.
After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.
The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty. 
They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin. 
Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.
It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.
There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia. 
The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized. 
It was a fragment of your memory. 
Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved. 
A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face? 
You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display. 
Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.
Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece. 
When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy. 
Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.
“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible. 
The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you. 
Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.
“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”
A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.
“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”
“It’s you, too. You’re here.”
Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch. 
“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.
You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears. 
“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”
“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”
“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”
Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.
“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”
Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.
“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”
“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”
Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.
“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”
At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.
“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”
And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up. 
I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.
Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other. 
“Please, give me a second chance.”
It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.
“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”
“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.” 
He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.
“It's always been you.”
eleven.  
“Careful — come on, get under here.”
Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love. 
You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises. 
Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot. 
Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.
“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.
While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”
“How’d you find this place?”
“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”
Your heart swelled at the confession. 
“It does resemble that one a lot.”
The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that. 
He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear. 
“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”
For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”
The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.
Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled. 
“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”
“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”
“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”
“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”
The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.
“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”
You kissed him, for the second time that night.
“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”
twelve.  
Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well. 
After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”
You couldn’t deny it, of course.
Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint. 
It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.
After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over. 
Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.
“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”
“Then come cuddle.”
He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend. 
“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”
Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”
Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one. 
“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”
To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body. 
“You coming to the exposition?”
“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”
“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”
He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. 
You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.
Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs. 
Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.
Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.
Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.
Over a week ago. 
Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything. 
After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed. 
“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”
You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.
thirteen.
You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.
The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment. 
Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again. 
Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.
“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”
“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”
Damn you, Reine. 
Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.
“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”
It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.
You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper. 
You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.
“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”
Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?
Trembling, you parted your lips to speak. 
“You’re hiding things from me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”
Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.
“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”
Ah.
Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.
“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”
“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”
“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”
You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way. 
Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.
“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”
“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”
“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”
“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."
A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.
Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.
"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."
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i hate you wednesday i hate you stranger things i hate you mindy kaling’s scooby doo reboot i hate you hbo i hate you disney i hate you netflix cancelling dead end and inside job and warrior nun and first kill i hate you justin roiland for continued professional success while female queer and non-white creators can barely get 2 seasons before their shows are dropped i hate you media that’s created to appeal to the widest group of people possible and therefore neutered into meaningless trendy bullshit i hate you lukewarm queer representation devoid of conflict or personality i hate you fandoms that last two months until the next popular streaming thing comes along and i hate hate hate feeling such deep hatred for pieces of media or entire studios that people love because everything surrounding them is so fucked up and unfair and depressing. i hate that i expect things i find cool and interesting and unique to be cancelled. i miss loving media. i miss it so much.
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how would you recommend watching doctor who? there are so many different guys idk how it works.
so the thing about doctor who is that there's two shows -- classic who (1963-1989, doctors 1-7) and new who (2005-2023, doctors 9-14). due to a renumber of the seasons and a change in production company, i think it's fair to call the upcoming version of who (2023-??, doctors 15-??) its own, third show. the reason it's been able to run for so long is that when the show's lead actor, (william hartnell as the titular doctor) had to step down in 1966 due to failing health, they made up some sci-fi bullshit: the doctor's species can 'regenerate' instead of dying, instantly healing but changing their appearance and some of their personality. this means that every time a lead actor has walked away (or, in one unfortuante case, been fired) the show's just recast the doctor and moved on, often with notable changes in tone and format.
the easiest option if you don't want to backwatch anything is to start with this year's christmas special, the church on ruby road (2023). it's an obvious jumping on point to the series, introduces you to all the basic stuff (the doctor, the TARDIS, the fact that it's a silly sci-fi show about fighting weird rubber prop critters), and presumably sets up the upcoming season 1 of the disney-bad wolf version of the show that's gonna come out in may 2024.
if you do want to backwatch, you have to decide if you want to start with new who or classic who. i personally would recommend starting with new who, because there's less of it, it's got higher production values, and (imo this is the biggest obstacle to getting into classic who) it's paced in a way that makes much more sense to a modern TV viewer (self-contained 45-minute episodes). also once you're invested in the show, its main character, and some of its classic elements, you get to soyjak at the screen whenever you're watching classic who and you get to see the oirign of a monster you already recognize. you can also skip classic who entirely and never watch it, they don't bring up anything from it in the new series without giving it a new explanation, but if you do this you hate fun.
anyway, starting points for nuwho: the most obvious one is rose (2005). it's the pilot episode for the new show and imo it holds up brilliantly -- it introduces all the most basic concepts of the show, but ultimately it's really all about billie piper and cristopher eccleston's performances and they deliver. the special effects are gonna be pretty terrible for a while because it's early 2000s cg. there's no jumping on point like it for the whole of RTD's run of the show (imo, the best run of nuwho) so if you want to watch seasons 1-4 you've gotta start on rose.
another episode that's written as a jumping on-point is (heavy sigh) the eleventh hour (2011). as well as introducing matt smith's doctor and his companion amy, this also does the whole rigamarole of introducing the show's core elements, giving a nutshell recap of its history in the form of the doctor's rooftop speech, and also signal what the oncoming moffat era is going to be like (whimsical, full of complex time travel plots, way more misogynist). i'm biased -- i'm a hater, one of this episode's central plot conceits sucks real bad and i also hate the eleventh doctor's whole run. but it is meant to be a jumping on point.
there won't be another one of those in nuwho until the pilot (2017). this begins moffat's final season with which he made the odd but extremely welcome decision to jettison all his convoluted continuity shit from the last five seasons and refocus the show with the doctor being a professor at bristol university with a mysterious secret. i think season 10 is a hidden gem and if you find starting from rose daunting this is the next best place to pick up. capaldi's doctor is a delightful abrasive eccentric with a heart of gold at this point in his run & the stories are wall-to-wall bangers with only a couple misses.
finally, you could start on the woman who fell to earth (2018), the first episode to feature jodie whittaker's 13th doctor and head writer chris chibnall. i'd recommend this even less than the eleventh hour, because while i actually like it more, i think it's a much worse preview of what the upcoming era is going to be like than that one. if you watch the woman who fell to earth and keep watching from the start of whittaker's run on the show off the back of it, you're going to be severely disappointed as most of the more promising aspects of the episode get instantly abandoned.
so, summary, if you're starting with nuwho, there's five jumping on points, which i'd rank:
rose > the pilot > the church on ruby road > the eleventh hour > the woman who fell to earth
but i want to start with classic who because i'm a contrarian
alright. classic who also has a few jumping off points -- before i mentioned them, let me just talk about that format thing i mentioned earlier. classic who doesn't have self-contained episodes for the most part, but rather for most of its run told each of its episodic narratives across between two and seven 20-minute episodes. this leads to a lot of weird pacing, forced cliffhangers, and infamously a lot of filler shots of the doctor running up and down identical corridors. so obvsies i'm recommending entire stories here nad not individual episodes. that said, let's look at where you could jump on:
an unearthly child (1963). this is, like, the start of the show. that said i don't recommend it as a place to start (funnily enough), for a couple reasons. firstly, because of dreadful fucking archiving by the BBC, a lot of episodes from the show's first six seasons are straight up missing. some of them have been animated by the BBC from surviving audio recordings, but some of them are just straight up lost -- due to the format, this means there's very few full complete stories, which makes this whole era really hard to navigate. if you don't mind that and really want to start in the black and white era, i'd still recommend the tomb of the cybermen (1967) instead -- hartnell's portrayal of the doctor as a haughty, slightly impish old professor is great, but troughton basically defined the character's core traits for the next sixty years.
spearhead from space (1970) is a pretty big format upheaval for the show and so serves as a pretty great classic jumping-on point. it's the first episode to be in colour, and sets up a new status quo for the doctor as being trapped on earth and working for an elite paramlitary organization called UNIT that operates out of a ratty office. it's an interesting premise that the show gets some great stories out of. the special effects are bad in the best way. pertwee has instant charm in the role and it's all around a banger by classic standards.
if you want to jump right to the one all the boomers are nostalgic for, you can also start with robot (1974). i wouldn't recommend it, though--tom baker is electric in the role from the start, but the episode itself kind of assumes a lot of the context of the third doctor's setup and supporting cast which you're not gonna have.
i wouldn't recommend anyone start at any point during the fifth or sixth doctors runs because i want them to actually like the show, so i guess the last jumping on point i could really recommend after robot would be, like, dragonfire (1987), which heralds the show's short-lived renaissance with the seventh doctor and his best companion, ace. but although you'd be watching some of the absolute best the classic show ever gets, it feels like it would be a weird and disorienting place to start.
finally, you could watch tales of the tardis (2023), a limited series produced to celebrate the show's 60th anniversary. each episode follows the same format: through a vaguely handwaved Palace of Memories plot, two much-aged characters from the classic series meet up and fondly remember one of the adventures they shared. the bookends with the original actors are mostly shameless fanservice, but the episodes they're reminiscing about are superbly edited down into a much more watchable format -- it works as a good 'sample platter' for most eras of the show (although, weirdly, there wasn't anything from tom baker's run!) and i think it honestly wouldn't be a bad shout to just start from tales of the tardis and then keep watching from whichever of the stories featured in it you liked most. that all said, if you want to start with classic who, i'd rank these jumping on points as follows:
spearhead from space > tales of the tardis > tomb of the cybermen > dragonfire > robot > an unearthly child
all that shit said it's fundamentally a very episodic show with very few exceptions like trial of a time lord and whatever moffat was doing seasons 6-7 so in the end you can basically just start with any episode and more or less get some of the idea. have fun and make sure to do the most important job of a doctor who fan, update the tardis wiki page for penis whenever one is mentioned
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sboochi · 4 months
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Listen, I like the idea of human!Star as much as the next person, but that's the point. I like the idea in my head.
To be honest, if this was the direction the creative team had gone with, I probably wouldn't enjoy it to this level. So it can stay in my head.
Anyway, I liked the movie! More opinions down below.
People are acting like it's the biggest disgrace ever happened to the animation industry and it feels..... so over-dramatic?? The movie isn't perfect, of course, but chill, have y'all forgotten about the emoji movie???
Also reading some people's comments feels like they don't want anyone to enjoy the movie, which sucks. I mean, I checked the tag here and it was An Experience.
Personally I liked:
Asha's little friend group! "But they don't have a real personality" boohoo the httyd and big hero 6 gangs didn't have more than 1 trait and nobody ever complained this much
The visuals were gorgeous. I guess this is personal taste but I LOVED the watercolor-esque backgrounds
I liked the songs, especially At all costs and This wish. I don't have a problem with the lyrics because I haven't listened to the soundtrack in English, but I've never really cared about lyrics anyway
Magnifico was a delight (evil arc my beloved)
There are a few things I would have handled differently, but again, it's taste:
Please let us have a protagonist with a very different personality from the usual Disney Heroine. Give me shy, give me nerd, give me sassy
I was hoping the queen's decision to side with Asha would be harder to make. I would have showed her struggle with her love for Magnifico and her people, I want the d r a m a
Poor Asha's mom deserved better
I know it's frustrating seeing all this negativity, but I think it'll die down with time. People were shitting on Moana and Zootopia too, at first. Hating this movie with passion is just the latest trendy opinion (you know those. You've probably seen them on tiktok)
(Please note I'm only talking about Wish. The "Disney the company" topic is too big for one post)
TLDR Wish isn't perfect, people just like to be mean. You're allowed to like it, whether others agree or not
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mousetrappedcomic · 4 months
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Mousetrapped #5: Enter Pete the Pup
Oops. I forgot today's blog post.
So, yeah, Pete the Pup (not to be confused with thr dog from the Little Rascals) was a silent era cartoon character from Bray Productions, created by Walter Lantz - later of Woody Woodpecker fame. Most of Pete's shorts involved Pete and a live action man, with Pete causing mischief.
As for why Pete's in this comic? Mickey needs friends, and most of his Disney pals are off limits for the next two years at leasat. Plus, I don't wanna feel beholden to the established continuity and relationahips. That's one thing I always hated when comic book companies rebooted their lines. If DC reboots again, you know Batman's relationships are going to be the same, his personality is going to be the same, his history is going to be the exact same. To me, this is a chance to try something different. I don't want to change Mickey's personality too much (aside from dropping the animal abuse with the parrot). But I don't want to retell all of Mickey's comic stories from Floyd Gottfredson. They're amazing comic but they've already been done.
Also, a fun connection - after Disney lost control of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit and he and Iwerks went off to create Mickey, Walter Lantz found himself working on Oswald's cartoons.
Speaking of Pete and other Lantz projects, a bit back there was a kickstarter for a re-release of a lot of his lesser known cartoons, cleaning them up and all that.
A friend involved in the project said it's chugging along well and described it as 2/3rds done. If you want to learn more, you can go here. I'm looking forward to it being available to those of us who didn't get to back it.
Okay, that's all for today. I might post some art updates over the weekend, but the next strip is Monday. I'm trying to figure out if I want to keep going five days a week or not. -R.
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bro-atz · 3 months
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betrayal [trope — mingi]
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inspired by: shut up flower boy band — kdrama + this post
pair: rockstar!mingi/afab!reader
word count: 4.5k
content: angst, smut, heartbreak, mingi looks like he could kill you but is the sweetest cinnamon roll, (can you believe mingi is the betrayer gasp), reference to past drug use, drinking, smoking, violence, mingi gets beat up, (seonghwa's kind of a dick... and lowkey like a disney villain whoops), safe sex, car sex, bedroom sex, hand kink, tattoo kink, consensual sex
author's note: i actually had a completely different idea in mind, but then @byuntrash101 posted this and i immediately had a much better idea for the series so thank you for the inspiration love 💕 also someone for the love of god tell me how to stop turning drabbles into novellas thx
trope masterlist
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Mingi flung his head back and sighed loudly in the dressing room as he stood before the vanity. He felt your presence behind him and immediately spun around, his shaggy hair covering the sadness in his eyes. You took a hesitant step towards him before he lashed out.
“What are you doing here?” Mingi spat out.
You winced. Sure, Mingi looked like he could kill someone, but in the time you knew him, he was the sweetest fucking cinnamon roll.
“I c-came to support you and the boys,” you murmured— it was the truth. You just wanted to support the band you had come to love, but honestly, you also wanted to see Mingi because you missed him. You missed him so fucking much.
“I told you to never let me see you again, Y/N. What is so fucking hard to understand about that?” Mingi huffed and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up further.
“But why?” your voice wavered, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Tears actually did spill out of your eyes when you cried, “Why are you doing this? Can you tell me what I did wrong? Please? You break up with me over a phone call and tell me you want nothing to do with me, but you never said why!”
Mingi flinched. He hated seeing you cry, and he desperately wanted to just hug you and dry your tears, but he couldn’t. He had to stay away from you, and he couldn’t figure out a way to keep you away without just telling you to stay away. He wasn’t one to cheat or to move on so easily— hell, he had been performing for years, and it took him years to find someone like you, someone who could make everything go away, someone he could actually fall in love with— so he couldn’t bring himself to lie to you. He just needed you to trust him and to just stay away.
“Just get out of my face. Don’t ever come near me again,” Mingi bit out.
He didn’t even brush past you on his way out. He completely avoided you. You fell to your knees and cried as the curtains to the room swished upon his departure.
Before he could even get two steps away from the dressing room, Mingi ran into the one person he did not want to run into.
“Dude, I did what you fucking asked, okay?” he held his hands up and took a step away from him. “I didn’t do shit.”
“I know. I just came to collect,” he responded. “We’ll be out of your hair.”
Mingi nodded and quickly got away before the conversation could persist. He left the venue and slammed the door on his way out. He wanted to just run away into the night, but it was pouring. Of course it was raining. He settled for leaning against the side of the establishment and fishing his carton of cigarettes and his favorite lighter out of his back pocket. He lit one up and took a deep drag before the pain in his heart started to subside.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Mingi heard the bassist’s voice behind him.
“Not now, Yeosang,” Mingi murmured.
“No, dude. Spit it out. One day, Y/N was the love of your life, and the next you’re screaming at her to leave you alone? Nothing’s adding up,” Yeosang pushed further.
“Yeah, we’ll only be able to help you if you tell us what’s going on,” the keyboardist, Yunho, added.
Mingi found himself boxed in by the members of his band and let out his twentieth deep sigh of the day. “Fine,” Mingi mumbled as he took another drag from his cigarette. “But after I tell you guys, I don’t want to hear another word of it. I don’t want to hear her name ever again, got it?”
The men nodded, allowing Mingi to finally reveal what had happened between the two of you.
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“Hey, who was that preppy chick in the front row?” the red-headed drummer asked his fellow bandmates.
“Beats me, dude,” Yunho shrugged. “She definitely doesn’t belong here, though.”
“Yeah, she’s like super preppy and shit,” the guitarist giggled.
“Isn’t that your type though, Wooyoung?” the drummer pointed out.
“…Shut up, San,” Wooyoung grumbled.
“It is weird, though. I’ve seen her so many times at our concerts. Is she one of our groupies?” Yeosang asked.
“Are groupies even a thing anymore?” Mingi furrowed his eyebrows.
“She’s definitely not a drug dealer from the looks of her,” San mused out loud.
“Okay, that was one time, and she seemed excited to be considered a groupie. I wasn’t talking to her because she sold— and I’m not about that shit! I haven’t done any more since I met you guys!”
“Mingi! Chill, that’s not what he was talking about!” Yunho grabbed Mingi’s shoulder to calm him down before he could throw a tantrum. “Besides, you almost went to jail. We know you don’t do drugs, so you don’t gotta get all defensive on us.”
“Yeah, okay, fine,” Mingi reclaimed his shoulder and adjusted his sweater before plopping to the ground.
“Anyway, that preppy girl— how many shows has she been at now?”
“Eight,” Yeosang answered immediately, only for four pairs of eyes to shoot directly to him and widen. “Not that I’ve been counting! …I’m just observant guys.”
“”Observant”,” Wooyoung mocked.
Before Yeosang could get up to slap the giggling guitarist silly, there was a knock on the dressing room door. Mingi got up and answered the door to see one of the stage managers standing there, a look of irritation on their face.
“Yes?”
“I thought we said you weren’t allowed to give anyone backstage access,” the stage manager said with disgust.
“We didn’t though?”
“Uh, actually…” San interjected and slowly raised his hand, the other four bandmates immediately groaning and yelling at the boy.
“Come on, man— We just talked about this!”
“You seriously suck.”
“That email was literally sent for you, San!”
“Sorry, sorry! I’ll handle it!” San held his hands up and scurried out of the room.
“Someone go with him to make sure he isn’t going to do stupid shit,” Yunho sighed while rolling his eyes.
“On it,” Mingi grumbled.
Leaving the other three to apologize profusely to the stage manager, Mingi left in pursuit of San. He got into the lobby of the venue and saw San with his arm already around the waist of the girl he had invited back to the dressing room— that bastard. Mingi made a mad dash for them, only to turn the corner and nearly crash into you, the preppy girl that looked like she didn’t belong at a rock concert, the preppy girl that Wooyoung (and also maybe Yeosang) had a tiny crush on. Well, he nearly crashed into you, but that didn’t stop you from tripping over your own two feet and falling back on your butt.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Mingi apologized as he held out a hand to help you up.
“Can you—” you were about to tell the tall figure off, only to see his face and recognize him as the lead vocalist of your current favorite band: IT’S YOU(TH). “— sign my bra?”
You immediately clapped your hands over your mouth, your face burning red from sheer embarrassment. Mingi couldn’t help but laugh— so many girls had asked him to sign their bras in the past, but no one was ever shy about it, so your reaction to the words flying out of your mouth was honestly hysterical.
“I mean, I can if you want,” Mingi replied, a chuckle still lingering in his voice.
“R-really?” you squeaked.
One signed bra, eleven concerts, sixteen dates, and eighty-eight days later, Mingi was absolutely in love with you. Of course, he would never admit it first, but everyone in IT’S YOU(TH)— and honestly the whole damn world— could tell that the lead vocalist and guitarist of the young up-and-coming rock band was head-in-the-clouds, rose-tinted-glasses, cupid-shot-an-arrow-through-his-soul in love.
“Okay, Miss Astronomer, what am I looking at?” Mingi whispered to you, his lips dangerously near your ear.
IT’S YOU(TH) just finished their set for the night, and Mingi had promised you that he would be right by your side as soon as the concert ended. The two of you had driven way out of the city to the local rural area and laid in the wheat fields while staring up at the night sky. You had promised Mingi a night under the stars when he found out you spent four years of further education to study astronomy and physics, and you were finally delivering on that promise.
“So, that right there?” you whispered back as you started your astronomy lesson. “That’s you.”
“What?”
“That’s the Leo constellation,” you giggled— Mingi wasn’t really one for astrology.
“Oh, I get it,” Mingi responded with a half-hearted laugh, then genuinely asked, “But where is it?”
“Right there,” you responded as you traced the sky.
“Where?”
“Here,” you reached for Mingi’s hand and held it so that his pointer finger would be out. You then brought his hand to the sky and traced it for him with his hand. “Right… There…”
Mingi shifted ever so slightly closer to you the second you held his hand, and you felt his breath hit your neck as he rubbed his nose against your ear. You stifled a little moan mixed with a giggle and brought his hand down, his fingers lacing with yours as he did so.
“Can I… Tell you about my favorite star?” you asked him as you turned your head to face his.
“Tell me.”
You completely turned your body and scooted closer to him, his own body turning so he could face you properly. He let go of your hand so he could move his arm under your head to rest, and you snuggled into his soft chest. You placed your hand lightly on his chest and whispered, “This one. You’re my favorite star.”
“God, princess, you’re so cheesy,” Mingi rolled his eyes, but he had the biggest grin on his face.
“You’re also the brightest star, the prettiest star, the sexiest star,” you continued.
“I’m sexy, you say,” Mingi’s baritone voice dropped further, sending tingles of excitement down your spine.
“Of course you’re sexy. Your messy, dark hair, your smokey eyeshadow, your dark eyeliner,” you started listing, your fingers running through his hair then tiptoeing down his face. “Your beautifully angled nose, your… Soft… Lips…”
Your eyes lingered on his lips— eighty-eight days, and he had yet to kiss you. Well, he had kissed you, but he gave you those fleeting kisses, the kisses so quick that if you blinked, you’d miss them. Or, he’d kiss you “properly”, but those were usually on your forehead or cheek or shoulder— basically everywhere but your lips.
So, when he held your chin with a soft yet somehow still firm grip and tilted your chin up, your entire body flushed with warmth, with anticipation. Then, when his lips pressed against yours, you felt like you were soaring. You always imagined his lips were going to be soft since you spent so much of your time staring at them when he was on stage singing his heart out, and they were so much softer than you could imagine.
One kiss, then he leaned back, his eyes slightly darting back and forth as he observed your facial expression. Your rosy cheeks and small smile, your eyes turning into half crescents and sparkling brilliantly— God, Mingi loved all of it. So he kissed you again, a little more drive and passion behind the second one, and the intensity of his kisses only increased the more he kissed you.
You clung to him as his hand cupped your face, his long fingers brushing the nape of your neck and making you even more flustered. Your breaths and sighs mixed with his as your gentle string of kisses got heavier and hotter.
“What else?” Mingi asked in between kisses breathlessly. “What else do you find sexy?”
“Your neck tattoos.” Kiss. “Your hand tattoos.” Kiss. “Your nails.” Kiss. “Your rings.” Kiss. “Your style.” Kiss. “Your voice.” Kiss. “You.”
“Fuck, you’re so perfect, princess,” Mingi groaned, sending shivers down your spine.
Mingi forcefully disconnected himself from you, making you whimper and nearly whine. He stood up quickly, and before you could even begin to pick yourself up, he scooped you off the ground and carried you to his car. Unlocking it, he laid you down in the back seat and got in with you, his lips mashing into yours the second the car door closed.
His body rolled into yours as his hands roamed your body, your own restless hands tugging at his clothes, begging him to take them off. The sounds of your feverish lip locks with Mingi overpowered the rustling of your clothes and the clinks of his belt as they hit the ground one by one, leaving you completely naked and Mingi in just his underwear. You didn’t know when he managed to, but Mingi grabbed the condom he had stashed in his wallet and tucked it into the waistband of his underwear.
You wanted to ask why he was waiting to, for lack of better words, give it to you, but all of the thoughts and questions in your head disappeared in a heartbeat when Mingi traced two light fingers along your folds. A sigh of pleasure rippled out of your lungs when you felt his fingers slide through your slick and curl within you, the tips of his fingers digging softly into your walls. You could feel his rings press against your folds— they had yet to enter you. But, when he pulled his fingers out then shoved them right back in, he went further, his rings pushing past and into your cunt.
“Oh shit! Mingi!” you moaned loudly as he fingered you consistently and roughly. “Fuck, it feels so good!”
“Just keep moaning prettily like that for me, princess,” Mingi rasped as he added a third finger to the mix, his other hand beginning to massage your breast.
Your nails left red marks on his shoulders as you clung to him, your fingers and toes curling with every stroke. You bit your lower lip every so often so keep your moans to a minimum, but all hope was lost when his thumb started circling your clit, one circle for every stroke, and it definitely didn’t help when he started spreading his fingers inside you and pinched and tugged your nipple. You raked your fingers through Mingi’s hair and pulled him closer to you as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your loud moan sounding through the car.
“Princess, did you cum?” Mingi asked, although he didn’t need to know because he could feel your walls convulsing around his fingers.
You let out a little noise and nodded weakly, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. Mingi caressed your face and wiped the tears away quickly before kissing you softly.
“Mingi,” you whimpered in between kisses. “I want you in me.”
You thought was going to laugh at the desperation in your voice, but he did anything but. He sat up and stroked your thigh gently as he said, “I’m going to need you to relax, okay?”
Mingi shed his boxers to reveal his massive cock. He just told you to relax, yet you couldn’t help but tense up when you saw what he was working with because he was fucking huge. It only made you even more fearful when you saw the letters XXL on his condom packet.
“Princess, just relax, okay?” Mingi instructed again softly.
He leaned down again and distracted you with his soft lips. His large hands went under your thighs and pushed your legs up, the length of his cock rubbing against your clit before pushing in slowly. You did your best to focus on kissing Mingi and tighten your hold on him to get yourself to loosen up to the best of your ability, but that didn’t stop you from feeling his like cock was going to tear you a new one.
Mingi kept his lips on yours as he moved slowly and calmly, his dick not completely leaving your body nor going all the way inside. He was just warming you up, but you felt like you were about to combust into flames with the way he was making you feel. You moaned and cried into his kisses while he grunted, his own restraint starting to weaken— he didn’t want to hurt you, at least not the first time the two of you had sex together.
The car bounced and shook when Mingi’s last string of self-control snapped. His cock filled you up and went so far deep inside you that you thought he was going to bruise your cervix. The sound of your sloppy kisses and heavy breaths and the raunchy squelches of his cock moving in and out of your soaking cunt harmonized, the sounds nearly escaping the confines of the car. What did escape, though, was your crying moan when Mingi rubbed against your G-spot and hit your cervix at the same time. The two of you came together, Mingi’s low groan ringing in your ears.
You were practically knocked out when Mingi pulled out of you, your weak and trembling hands struggling to push your sweaty hair away from your forehead. Mingi watched with slight amusement as you slowly started to regain your sanity.
“You look so pretty right now, princess,” Mingi said softly, nearly cooing. “I just want to see you disheveled like this under me all the time.”
“Tell me when and where, and I’m there, rockstar.”
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After 100 days of being together, the problem started to arise.
“Hey, pretty princess,” Mingi greeted you as he walked into the coffee shop for your coffee date.
“Hey there, rockstar,” you greeted right back.
Mingi leaned down and kissed your lips quickly before taking the seat in front of you. He reached for your hands and held them, your hands fitting perfectly in his.
“Did you order yet?” he asked.
“Yeah, for both of us.”
Right on cue, one of the baristas announced your drinks were ready. Mingi got up and quickly returned with the drinks in hand. He set both the drinks down, your eager hands immediately picking up your iced one.
You only got to take one sip of your drink when your phone started ringing. You looked at the caller id and immediately declined the call before setting your phone face down on the table, Mingi warily watching all of your actions.
“Who was that?”
“Spam,” you replied with a frown— you hated lying to him, but to be fair, the caller was spamming you, and you had no intention of ever picking up the calls.
“Ugh, hate that,” Mingi grimaced.
“Tell me about it.”
The phone calls persisted. Every time the two of you went on a date or hung out or did anything together, you would get the “spam” calls. Mingi didn’t think much of it at first because spam calls usually were very annoying, but he started to worry when you phone would ring two, three, even four times in a row no matter how many times you declined the call.
“Hnngh— Harder! Fuck— Faster!” you shrilled as Mingi fucked you from behind. “Ugh, Mingi, so good!”
Your face was nearly smashed into your mattress as Mingi ruthlessly stuffed his large cock in your tight hole. He grunted loudly and affirmatively as he gripped your ass harder, his rings digging into your skin, your skin getting redder with his occasional slap.
Mingi was the first to notice. Your phone was on the nightstand, and it was ringing. He slowed his pace so he could reach over and grab it to decline the call on your behalf. He tossed your phone onto the bed near your hand and upped his tempo while pulling your ass higher into the sky.
And yet, your phone rang again. You quickly declined it before Mingi could notice, but he did. It was when it rang for the third time that Mingi had enough.
“Princess,” he grunted. “Gimme your phone.”
“W-why?”
“Just gimme.”
You unlocked your phone and pushed it backwards towards him— you trusted Mingi, so you had no problem doing as he asked. And Mingi didn’t abuse that trust. He simply opened the call log and saw the sea of red missed or declined calls, all of them from the same, unsaved number. He blocked the number and locked your phone before setting it back on the nightstand where it originally was, then he continued to fuck your brains out.
Mingi wanted it to be done then and there, which technically it was because you blocked the number, but that didn’t stop a bad feeling from manifesting within him.
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“Yo, Mingi, you gonna meet us at the restaurant?” Yunho asked the singer.
“Yeah, I’m gonna call Y/N first—”
“You mean your pretty princess?” San teased— your name on Mingi’s phone was “pretty princess”, and the guys teased him all the time for it.
“Your pretty preppy princess?” Wooyoung piled on.
“Yes, my pretty princess. Go choke on some soju,” Mingi frowned and shooed the boys away.
The four other members of IT’S YOU(TH) skipped cheerfully away, leaving Mingi alone by his car. He started calling you only for someone to grab his phone.
“IT’S YOU(TH), huh? Cute.”
Mingi whipped around, his jaw tensing as he got ready to beat the shit out of whoever stole his phone from him.
“What’s your fucking problem, dude? Give my phone back, or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Mingi warned aggressively.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the same voice said.
Stepping closer to him, a man with a flowery charm but deadly eyes appeared before Mingi. He dangled his phone as he stood before him, riling Mingi up further. He tightened his fist and prepared to swing, only for two pairs of arms to restrain him. The two people behind him brought Mingi down to his knees and kept him there, one man kneeling on his back while the other had a fistful of Mingi’s hair tight in his grasp.
“What the fuck do you want?” Mingi asked, his anger intensifying. “If it’s money, I’ll give you however much you want.”
“I don’t need your money, guitar boy. I want Y/N.”
“What?”
The man crouched in front of Mingi and held his phone up, the lock screen of you and Mingi shining brightly. He pointed at you and said, “I want Y/N back.”
“Oh, you’re a crazy ex-boyfriend,” Mingi couldn’t help but scoff. “Listen, she’s not one for me to give back. She likes me, so she’s dating me. She doesn’t like you, so she’s not dating you. It’s her choice, dude.”
Without a warning, the guy punched Mingi in the face. Mingi’s cheek immediately started bleeding, his eye throbbing with pain. Before he could recover from the shock of the punch, the man sent a mean hook into his jaw, Mingi’s head flying to the side. The guy behind him held his head back up, forcing Mingi to make eye contact with the asshole that just punched him.
“She didn’t break up with me because she stopped liking me, you asshole. She broke up with me because of you.”
Mingi didn’t bother responding— villains usually always revealed everything without being prompted.
“Ever since she went and saw your cute little band, she told me she “fell in love with you” and that she would literally “do anything” for you. Someone like you with your fucking pretty boy make up and your painted nails and your criminal face tattoo,” the man sneered in Mingi’s face. “Someone like you of all fucking people.”
“Seonghwa,” one of the men behind Mingi uttered. “Get to the point.”
“Shut the fuck up, Hongjoong,” the man, who Mingi could now identify as Seonghwa, snapped. Turning back to Mingi, Seonghwa continued, “She was still dating me the day you signed her fucking bra. And then the concert after that, you fucking asked her out, and she said yes and dropped me in a heartbeat.”
“How is that my fault?! I asked her out, but she could’ve said no!” Mingi argued.
“It’s you and your fucking band’s fault for even existing, you asshole!”
Seonghwa grabbed the collar of Mingi’s shirt and pulled him up, the two other men behind Mingi still holding onto him.
“Hongjoong, Jongho, let go. I want to beat this guy up,” Seonghwa hissed.
“Seonghwa, calm down—”
“Fucking drop his ass!”
Hongjoong and Jongho let go of Mingi, and Seonghwa immediately swung before Mingi could stop him. Mingi fell to the ground, allowing Seonghwa to start kicking the shit out of him. He couldn’t even get away from Seonghwa, but thankfully, his two friends held him back.
“Do you really think Y/N is going to want to be with you if you do shit like this?”
“Don’t give her a reason to hate you, dude.”
“Ugh, fine!” Seonghwa admitted defeat before shaking his friends off. “But you, Song Mingi, you better break up with her or else.”
“Or else what? You’ll kill me?” Mingi scoffed.
“No. I’ll destroy the rest of your band.”
The color in Mingi’s face drained. He could handle someone threatening him, but the thought of anyone from IT’S YOU(TH) getting hurt because of him or disbanding because of him was terrifying to him.
“Y-you… You wouldn’t.”
“I can, and I will. Break up with Y/N, and you and your band can sing your silly songs for the rest of time. Stay with her, and I’ll drive everyone in your life away from you.” Seonghwa tossed Mingi’s phone back to him. He crouched in front of him and added, “You have ’til the next concert.”
With that, Seonghwa and his friends left Mingi next to his car bleeding, afraid, and alone.
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“That’s why your eye was black?” Yeosang asked with shock.
“Yes.”
“Mingi… I’m so sorry,” San sounded like he was about to cry.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have to choose like that. Her ex-boyfriend is a complete psychopath!” Wooyoung added just as emotionally.
The three boys smothered Mingi with hugs while Yunho stood a little bit away, a frown plastered to his face.
“Alright, but now you all will drop it, right?” Mingi grunted as he tried to escape the group hug.
The boys nodded and verbally agreed. They started to head back inside, but Mingi stayed outside to burn through another cigarette. Yunho stayed with him.
“Don’t say anything, man. I know you,” Mingi sighed as he fished out his carton of cigarettes again.
Yunho didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave Mingi a silent hug, his hand petting the back of the singer’s head. Tears welled up in Mingi’s eyes. He dropped his face into Yunho’s shoulder and hugged the keyboardist back as he silently sobbed about his broken heart.
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trope masterlist
trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower
network: @cromernet
apply for the taglist here!
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rayroseu · 5 months
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THE MAJESTIC EXCELLENCY HERSELF 😍😍😍😍💚💚💚💚 also maybe its just me but is it a reach to hope that an ACTUAL Disney villain can cameo in TWST?? 😆 You know like how Mickey randomly appears before us akjdkss
Also i find it interesting how Yuu immediately got up to go to the Maleficent Statue after concluding the dream as "Maleficent is being left out..." She reminded him of One Guy lol 😭 Also Yuu lore crumbs that theyre finally catching up that their dreams is related to the next overblot lol
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ALSO AAAAAHHH SEBEKKKK 💚💚💚✨✨✨ I missed hearing his "human!!" FULLY VOICED✨✨✨ Haruki Ishiya san... thank you 😭💚💚💚
I love his attitude change LMFAO and Silver being the polite person he is insisting Sebek to apologize and Sebek just doesnt lol... SOBS... Also agree with Grim lol Diasomnia literally the most dramatic dorm lol
Also I find it so funny that "Malleus evil smile" expression is his Happiest Expression LMFOAOAOA He's thoroughly AMUSED by Yuu calling him Hornton in front of Sebek (of all people) without hesitance 😭😭
Ohhh Malleus loves chaos alright ✅✅✅💥💥 and his family and friends getting along...😭😭💕💕💕
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Also the part where the npcs talked about him broke my heart aughh...
He's just talking with his classmates and everyone is already whispering how "he shouldn't be in this school he's going to curse everyone" (OKAY maybe theyre going to be right about that in a few more updates butksjdjs) But aaa knowing the fact he has superb hearing skills.... I like to imagine he's hearing these rumors while talking to Yuu and the knights but he's just ignoring the rumors since there's a few peopke who are treating him like a normal person right now 😭😭
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I LOVE HOW THIS IMPLIES LILIA RELIES ON SILVER THE MOST TOO!!! He couldve asked Sebek or Malleus since theyre the people with no sleep problems... but nooo he insisted on Silver waking him up!! AUDGAUHS I thought he's a general who focuses on efficiency... 😭😭 He just wants Silver to wake him up... i know you lilia 🔍🔍🔍🤨🤨
I am in good pain... considering!! in Book 7!! Lilia repeatedly appears to be a reliance for Silver whenever he feels hopeless... I CANT. Lilia is just like more lowkey about how much he actually relies on his son 😭😭💚💚
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ROOK BEING IN THE RUINS TOO IS SO FUNNY LFMAOOO THATS ONE OF MALLEUS' TOP INTERSHIP LIST??? ITS LILIA'S P.E VIGNETTE ALL OVER AGAIN LMFOAOAA HE'S GONNA HARASS MALLEUS DOWN IF THEYRE COWORKERS AHFHAHDHA
Imagine them in the ruins and finally Malleus has someone who is enthusiastic about ""boring facts about Gargoyles and Abandoned Ruins"" but its just... got to be THIS GUY Rook Hunt... who once tried to playfully harm Lilia lol
Malleus and Rook Duo is actually so funny though 😂😂 It still cracks me up that Malleus was once invited on Rooks Bday but he didnt attend cuz he's annoying to him and most notably Rook is not even hostile to him??? He just didnt attend bcs he hates his guts omg😭😭💥💥
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This fact is so weird to me... What do you mean that some teeth just becomes an automatic RADIO under the right conditions????😭 Is this a foreshadow to Zigvolts Dentistry??? 😳⚡💚✨✨✨
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Can a fae teeth play Elvis Presley just by opening their mouths...?? You know like Stitch acting as a phonograph... 😂
But I doubt??? They have radio towers at Briar Valley so it probably doesnt happen????? But It'd be pretty funny if Briar Valley radio just play bardcore music and one poor fae was "cursed" to have "magical radio teeth" playing bardcore everytime lol
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My first thought was "Sebek!!!!✨✨✨" here actually 😭💚 Since he's the only freshman we're missing rn...
But I was surprised Yuu thought of Malleus??? That just further implies Yuu recognizes him as a friend that'll help them too 😭😭😭
Its just precious to think that someone finds Malleus reliable, he'll be so happy to assist Yuu if they're having trouble with anything just like how he enthusiastically offered to explain more about the Thorn Fairy since Yuu is curious about it...😭💖💞💖💗💕 I love them to BITS OMFG...
(I'm sad that Yuu is going home too but I'm ignoring that lol🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️ Yuu is a self insert theyre supposed to speak MY language of staying with Mal-)
Its devastating that the freshmen are so hyped up to be working together THEY ARE NOT PROCESSING THE IMPLICATIONS OF YUU GOING HOME... 💔😂 if Yuu truly goes home, theres no reason for them to be gathering like this on the cafeteria anymore... 😭😭💔💔 Making myself sad that they'll buy an extra plate for them during lunch break and not even Grim touches that food... just to honor their friend😭😭😭
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Wait so we know that the first night in "sleepover to discover Mickey" consists of Deuce and Ace as Grim and Yuu's companion...
Maybe the next nights (without Malleus' overblot interupption) consisted of Epel and Jack, and then possibly Ortho and Malleus??? (since Ortho is the one who suggested that therell be a fae)
Oh but Im going to cry if at Book 7's ending consisted of Yuu inviting Malleus for a sleepover at Ramshackle despite what happened... 😭😭😭 and and like the stars aligning appears once again but this time he's not at ruined Ramshackle missing his friend... He's at a peaceful sleepover with a friend group auGh... 😭😭😭💖💕💞💗💞💗
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xasthurz · 1 year
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hii!! I’m so sorry I left for so long, I’ve been dealing with some personal issues but now I’m sick so since I have some free time, I’ve decided to start writing again!
Mainly based towards an F! Reader but also slightly based towards to M! Readers.
Ghost/König Cuddling Head-cannons!
( not proof-read )
Ghost.
This man will be so protective of you while cuddling, he always prefers to be the big spoon so he can properly protect you.
His favorite cuddling position is when your head is laying on his bicep with your face nuzzled into his neck and your leg stretching across his waist, his free hand will be on the leg holding you close and the other hand will be holding you close.
If you move to try and get up without telling him what your doing first he’ll wrap his arms around you to prevent you from moving.
When he’s the big spoon his fingers will always be intertwined with your hair, pressing his nose against your head, taking in scent of your shampoo.
He definitely acts like he hates watching Disney movies with you but secretly enjoys cuddling and watching them, which is why he always gives in when you say you want to watch a Disney movie.
Slight NSFW ahead!!
He probably enjoys cock-warning with you, he loves having his cock nuzzled deep inside you as he lays his head on your collarbone while on top of you.
Will always leave marks on your neck and collarbones while cuddling, enjoys seeing them on you as you walk around.
While his cock is nestled inside you he might do small thrusts to hear your small whimpers.
Most of the time you’ll wake up with his hand on one of your breasts or neck, as you move, he’ll squeeze gently.
Will whisper sweet praises into your ear while he’s positioned on top of you and loves moving his hands up and down your sides occasionally giving your waist a small squeeze. Rolling up your shirt to place small kisses on your stomach and your breasts.
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König.
König is always so gentle with you, holding you like your a porcelain doll. Since he’s so tall his entire body encloses on yours, making you feel all warm and comfortable.
Always will have his legs intertwined with yours with his arms wrapped around your waist, your face nuzzled up into his neck. Your hands grazing over his toned and scarred body, placing gentle kissed to his bare neck and shoulders.
I feel like he talks in his sleep, like not much but slight mumbles. The only coherent one you could ever hear was “Ich liebe dich Y/N..” which had your heart melting, he would tug you closer after saying it too. You feel like if you ever confronted him about it he would become a blushing mess.
Enjoys rubbing small circles into your hips and loves to give you massages to help you fall asleep in his arms faster.
König definitely moves a lot in his sleep, sometimes making you wake up and when he realizes he woke you up he’ll apologize profusely. “I’m so sorry, meine liebe.”
Slight NSFW ahead!!
Loves keeping his hands between your thighs, every time his fingers accidentally make contact with your clothed clit you whimper slightly.
Also a big fan of cock-warming, he enjoys having your walls wrapped around his cock keeping him warm.
When he lays on top of you, he’ll rest his head on your stomach with his legs dangling slightly off the bed. Will Kiss your inner and outer thighs lazily as he falls asleep.
You enjoy playing with his hair and you can tell he enjoys it also as he lets out soft groans from how good your hands feel rubbing against his scalp.
Loves the smell of you, it may sound weird but when cuddling you he enjoys taking in the scent of your perfume, it relaxes him instantly making him fall asleep.
I Hope you enjoyed this, I worked really hard on this and I’ve been trying to get back into posting so the next post might be a prompt list!
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saviorellie · 11 months
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roommate!ellie headcannons.
pairing : ellie williams x reader
pov : second person , she/her pronouns
warnings : mention of porn i guess? college!ellie!! she’s got a big fat crush on you
notes : PLEASEEE send me headcannon and blurb requests for ellie (AND ABBY)!!
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roommate!ellie that you met in a facebook group (she promptly deleted facebook as soon as you met)
roommate!ellie who refuses. and i mean re fuses. to do laundry.
she hates it oh my god she hates it. she does dishes, you do laundry. that is the agreement!
roommate!ellie who does not care what the place looks like, please take all creative control. she’ll love it regardless
she WILL kick ice under the fridge no matter how many times you tell her not to
roommate!ellie who would rather die than forget to water your plants. because she knows you love them and she KNOWS you will forget
she’s so “dad who says he doesn’t want a cat but loves that cat more than himself”
(the cat’s name is star. i will not elaborate.) (savage starlight.)
roommate!ellie who introduced you to fortnite and is mad because you’re better than her
roommate!ellie whose love language is physical touch
she will Die if your legs aren’t in her lap while watching a movie. she will sit on the counter beside the stove if you’re cooking.
roommate!ellie is a LOOOOSERRRRR
i’m talking sweating when you’re wearing pajama shorts, shaking when you play with her hair, blushing like all the fucking time.
she needs you bad.
roommate!ellie who turns into a handyman any time something breaks (she will break it more than it was already broken)
she was laying on the kitchen floor tiles when she accidentally broke the ac
roommate!ellie who refuses to let you buy groceries
“i eat more than you anyway” “you pay for the netlifx and the disney+” “let me sugar momma you”
roommate!ellie who will get on. All fours. if she comes home from work or class and you’re cooking or you made dinner for her.
(please please please be her housewife) (omg who said that?!)
roommate!ellie who puts cream and sugar in her coffee even though she likes black the best
because she knows she won’t finish the mug but you will and you like cream and sugar
roommate!ellie who is actually not! an astronomy major! she’s a paleontology major for sure
roommate!ellie who spends every paycheck she gets on 1. groceries and 2. random little trinkets she knows you’ll like
the sonny angel collection is crazy (thank you ellieeee :P)
roommate!ellie who can not stop giving you weird nicknames
“sweet girl” “angel” yeah yeah the normal ones but why is she calling you “beef” and “charcuterie board”
roommate!ellie was the first person you smoked with and she almost cried because she felt so bad when you greened out
her music taste is so. Bad (comedically, she actually has really good music taste)
“ellie if you play mask by dream one more time i’m going to [TRAIN PASSES BY]”
roommate!ellie (loser) who says “can i put my minecraft bed next to yours” LOSER
roommate!ellie who is So fucking smart but she pretends to not know what’s going on in her classes so you will sit next to her and your upper arm will touch hers as you help her
roommate!ellie who has to be constantly reminded to close her bedroom door at night
“i don’t know if you’re getting laid or watching p*rn but Hey close the door”
(you’re not jealous. why would you be jealous? it’s not like you like ellie or anything so if she’s getting laid why would it matter you don’t-)”
:0
roommate!ellie who worships the ground you walk on
do Not try on a dress or a skirt or a cropped shirt in front of her because she will pass out and d*e
stuttering and shit when you ask about her day (say it with me) (loooserrrr)
roommate!ellie who will Not hang up the phone or say goodbye without saying “love you”
cuz she does :,) she loves you :,)
don’t say “love you too” though because she will overthink it and stress herself out to tears
roommate!ellie who annoys dina so bad with how much she talks about you
“i was talking to y/n and she said” “y/n really likes this show” “y/n said that we should”
“oh my job just fuck already”
ellie’s best friend!dina who will look over you and at ellie and mouth “kiss her!!!”
and you’re clueless obviously
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cherigu · 11 months
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— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Love to Hate, Hate to Love!
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Genre: smut, enemies to lovers Pairing: sub!jeongguk x softdom!reader Word Count: 5.7k Warnings: porn (with) plot, college au, alcohol consumption, reader calls jk puppy like once, hair pulling, nipple play, jk cums in his pants, dry humping, implied oral
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“Words spread like wildfire, Jimin. I’ve heard a thing or two about Jeongguk and they’re not all that good.” You stopped to pop a candy in your mouth, loving the taste of the sugary sweetness. 
The soft glow of Jimin’s TV was currently the only form of lighting, doing a sufficient job of illuminating the living room. The two of you were sitting on either side of the black couch, sharing the snacks that were supposed to be for movie night. The long-forgotten Disney movie served as background noise for the gossip you were currently engaging in.
“I doubt it though, he seems like a good guy. Of course, completely disregarding that I haven’t met him.” You finished chewing and passed the box of sweets to Jimin. He took the box before starting, “What kinds of things have you heard?” You scoffed in disbelief, surprised Jimin didn’t know about what people on campus said about his friend.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, Jeongguk was walking down the apartment corridor, eagerly scanning the doors for Jimin’s apartment number. With two takeout boxes on one arm, he raised the unoccupied one to knock on Jimin’s door. Just as his tattooed hand was about to come in contact with the door, he quickly pulled away at the sound of the familiar voice he identified as yours, saying his name. He couldn’t help but eavesdrop knowing the conversation was about him.
“His shy persona is bullshit. He butters girls up only to get his dick wet and throws them out the next morning. Not just that, but he’s an overall asshole. No wonder he has no friends.” You raised your hands to use air quotes, something Jeongguk couldn’t see. “That’s insane, I get the dude looks intimidating, but his exterior doesn’t reflect his personality. Jeongguk is a sweetheart!” Jimin exclaimed while shaking his head. He couldn’t believe how stupid people were.
Jeongguk was the most gentle person he’d ever met in his life. He was selfless, always putting others before him even if it meant he’d end up getting the short end of the stick. He’d comfort you while holding back tears of his own, not wanting to redirect the concern to him. He’d let you eat the leftovers he had saved for his dinner, even if he’d go to sleep hungry. Yet still people made up ways to talk down on one of the kindest people on campus.
Jeongguk’s tense body relaxed a bit after hearing Jimin defend him but the shock of your words made his blood run cold. The two of you were never really close. Despite being in the same friend group, Jeongguk was more reserved and kept to himself, not allowing you to get to know him much. He doubted his ability to even call you an acquaintance. 
That still didn’t stop him from admiring you from afar. Another reason the two of you never got close was because of his undeniable crush on you. He feared that he’d mess things up and say the wrong words, considering he felt more timid than usual around you. You were pretty and the few times you had interacted with him, you were nothing but kind to him. This made his heart shrink even more, is this what you thought of him all along?
 He sadly looked down at his takeout boxes as he toyed with his lip piercing, wondering if it’d be a good idea to announce his presence at this point. He figured he couldn’t let the food go to waste as he wouldn’t be able to eat both boxes, so he sucked in a breath and shyly knocked on the door.
Jimin excused himself, making his way to the door to check who it was through the peephole. He flung the door open in excitement as his favorite person stood on the other side of the walls. 
“Gukkie! What’s up? Come inside” Jimin excitedly motioned his hands towards the living room, dropping them when Jeongguk didn’t seem to move an inch. “Um..I-I actually have somewhere to be… Just needed to drop off some food for you. Picked up some takeout and figured I’d get some for you as well” Jeongguk nervously handed the box to Jimin, painfully aware that he wasn’t the best liar in the world.
“My boy” Jimin gracefully accepted the box and pinched his cheek before Jeongguk playfully swatted his hand away.  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay a bit? y/n’s here, you guys can finally get to properly meet each other!”
 “It’s kind of urgent hyung, I’m sorry. At least you have company so you won’t eat alone right?” 
“Ah, I guess so. She’s been here a while now so she might head out soon, or not? Y/n acts like she lives here, that girl” Jimin chuckled.
Jeongguk nodded, wincing at the mention of your name.
“I’ll still make sure to get you guys to know each other next time I host at my place, probably in a week” Jimin exclaimed, already eager to introduce his two best friends to each other.
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If there was someone who was a man of his word, it had to be Jimin. Although on this rare occasion, Jeongguk wished he wasn’t. Not that he’d appreciate a liar, but at least he wouldn’t be standing uncomfortably by the snack table waiting for his friends to approach him. Somehow he felt more nervous than if he’d been at a real party. Jimin liked to throw gatherings where he’d invite his friend group, encouraging them to bring a plus one. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big either. This meant he’d for sure bump into you tonight. He had tried getting out of this, he did, but how could he not come when Jimin’s pout was audible through the phone when he heard Jeongguk had to take a rain check? If he had to attend, the least he could do was pray that you wouldn’t. 
He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt his arm being tugged by none other than Taehyung.
“Jeonggukkie let’s go play Do or Drink!” he giggled, already drunk and still looking forward to drinking more.
Soon enough he was brought to the living room where a circle of familiar, and unfamiliar, faces had gathered in excitement to play the drinking game. There wasn’t much space given the eagerness of the people to drink in a fun way. Taehyung felt Jeongguk’s uncertainty, so he pushed him toward the only empty spot. “Go sit with y/n!” Jeongguk snapped his head to where Taehyung had pointed, and sure enough, you were there.
Even while sitting down, Jeongguk got a perfect view of you. While he already knew this, it felt wrong to admit the undeniable. You were beautiful.
Curvy body adorned with a tight black dress, seemingly hugging you in all of the right places. Diamond necklace delicately draped over your collarbones, unintentionally garnering attention to your chest. The dress ended just above your mid-thigh, exposing the smooth skin of your legs which were crossed as you prettily sat while you waited for the game to start. The diamond anklet wrapped around your ankle matched the necklace, clearly showing you had an eye for accessories that elevated your looks. 
As if it couldn’t get any better, you made eye contact with him, allowing him to get a full view of your features. Your eyes sparked like you carried the whole galaxy in them. They turned into crescent moons when you smiled at him, pretty plump lips curling up just enough to show off your pearly whites. You waved and pointed to the spot next to you, inviting him to sit.
Jeongguk was starstruck, if there was at least one person out there who was the definition of perfect, it had to be you. He quickly broke out of his trance, suddenly remembering what you had said about him a week ago. He understood now. You were beautiful, you had friends, smarts, and a social life, which explains why you thought of him the way you did. You didn’t have time to associate with people like him, hence why you only had a notion of him based on what other people said. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little bitter. 
The game seemed to drag on forever. He hadn’t had much to drink yet with the dares being pretty tame and doable, but he was surely tipsy enough to fall into an extreme state of paranoia. His sweaty hands were red from how many times he had wiped them on the rough material of his jeans. He couldn’t help but squirm in his spot. Had you gotten closer, or was it the alcohol? He knew it wasn’t a big deal, you hadn’t made an effort to communicate with him, being too preoccupied with the game. Still, he couldn’t help but feel nervous by your threatening presence. All he wanted to do was get this night over with without having to cross paths with you after this. However, the universe had other plans as Hoseok, the designated card reader, read out the younger’s card.
“Kiss the person to your right, or take a shot”
Jeongguk’s throat suddenly went dry, unable to swallow properly. He tried his best to act normal about it, but his widened eyes communicated his panic to the rest of the circle. 
“Finally this game gets somewhere!” Mina clapped. 
Jeongguk turned to his right, and almost as if the two of you were in sync, you turned to look at him as well. Your eyes locked for less than two seconds before Jeongukk spoke.
If Jeongguk felt nervous just from sitting next to you before, he was surely going to throw up now.
“I’ll take the drink” He turned away to look at Namjoon who was in charge of the drinks. “Are you sure? There’s only vodka left, I know you don’t like it-” Namjoon warned while filling up the shot glass regardless.
“I don’t care” 
Jeongguk quickly took the glass in his hands when Namjoon passed it, pouring the clear liquid down his throat which caused his face to scrunch into one of disgust. He winced at the taste but swallowed it nevertheless.
Your gaze never seemed to falter from his face, burning holes into the side of his skull, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him. You didn’t understand why the boy had reacted that way, not even giving you a chance to come to an agreement of at least kissing you on the cheek, as the card hadn’t exclusively said a kiss on the lips. Instead, he chose to send himself into a coughing fit all because he drank the strongest alcohol available at the party.
“The speed of his decision was almost offensive” Joy snickered.
“Don’t know where her mouth has been” Jeongguk murmured, but not silent enough for the players to ignore, especially not you. “Excuse me?” You turned your body towards him with a stern, yet confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You scoffed while crossing your arms.
“E-exactly what I said, probably sucked someone off before playing. Maybe more than o-one.” Jeongguk replied, strong words contrasting with his insecure body language. He didn’t realize the weight of his words, never being one to insult people to their faces, or at all. You could say his subconscious mind spoke for him, needing to let you know that you weren’t the only one who could talk shit about someone before fully getting to know them.
At this point, the circle of people had grown silent as you sharply stood up. The public’s eyes fixated either on you or the boy who seemed to shrink under your killer gaze.
“How about instead of speaking on matters that don’t concern you, much less know about, you just accept that you couldn’t kiss me because you’d pop a boner in front of everyone.” You picked up your bag, “Easy fuck, probably made that shit up ‘cause you wished it’d been you, huh? Those people were right about you and your act.” You spat at him, never failing to break eye contact with him. With that, you left.
You weren’t sure if you had overreacted or not, the buzz from the alcohol clouding your judgment and making you slightly more irritable than usual. Regardless of that, disrespect is something you will never stand for, especially if it’s unprovoked. 
Jimin had taken off behind you, but not before scowling at Jeongguk. 
“Y/n!” Jimin’s voice rang behind you. You stopped to turn to look at him, and then back at the staircase to make sure you wouldn’t fall given your alcohol-induced blurry vision. 
“Look, I don’t know what your friend’s deal is, but tell him to take it up with his daddy. I literally do not know him enough to have ever done anything to him, yet he still had the nerve to not only disrespect me but humiliate me in front of my friends with some crazy accusations.” 
Jimin sighed, “I don’t know what got into him tonight, he usually takes his alcohol well, it couldn’t have been that. Whatever it was though, I’m so sorry he did that.”
“You don’t have to apologize unless you’ve been running your mouth to him about my personal business that made him come to that conclusion.” You huffed, only now thinking of the possibility that the person you trusted the most with details about your sex life, was airing out your business.
“Never! You know I wouldn’t do that to you y/n. Look, I’ll talk to him, alright? I’ll make sure the boys knock some sense into him.” Jimin placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.
You placed your own on top of his, believing and trusting him.
“Alright”
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
That was a year ago, and sure enough, Jimin had talked to Jeongguk that night. Although the younger didn’t seem to cooperate. In his words, he had said that because “it could’ve been true.” He never gave the real reason as to why he said what he said, leaving everyone in the dark concerning his unexpected behavior that day at the gathering. 
Ever since then, the two of you were intolerable to one another. You avoided each other at all costs, but while technically being in the same friend group, it was impossible. You would run into each other occasionally, and it’d never end well. Curses and yells were shared, always needing the older friends to intervene and ensure no one bit the other’s head off. 
As much as he hated to admit it, Jeongguk’s anger was just a façade. He never meant anything he said, down to the comment that started this whole feud. The truth is, he was more hurt than angry at what you said, but his feelings for you never seemed to dissolve. That’s what got him the most. With every insult he threw at you, his intention was not to hurt your feelings. The boy only tried to protect his heart against the power of your rage.
He knew he was at fault, but there was no use in regretting the stupid comment he made in the heat of the moment. It was done, and he was sure you’d never forgive him. That left him with no option but to reciprocate the anger and hatred you showed him anytime you saw him. 
Jeongguk stepped into Yoongi’s house, entering the party he was so desperate to attend just to have an excuse to drink. He knew he was bound to bump into you at some point throughout the night, but if he was drunk enough, he wouldn’t have to care or even remember.
He had cleaned up nice, ironic considering his mind was a mess. His shoulder-length hair was nicely styled into a half ponytail, the middle part allowing the bangs to fall on either side of his face. A grey short sleeve draped over his toned body, exposing his buff arms that were so beautifully covered in tattoos. He had been keen on detailing recently, nicely tucking the front of his oversized tee into his black baggy jeans, tying it together with a belt. To add the final touch, he matched the silver buckle of his belt with a thin silver chain that wrapped around his neck
Sweaty bodies danced around him, loud music filling his ears as he made his way over to the couch. He allowed his body to fall back into the comfortable cushions, holding a red solo cup in one arm while draping the free one over his eyes and sighing. Had it been a good idea to attend knowing the two of you couldn’t be under the same roof? Was he overthinking? Maybe you didn’t come, or maybe you’d be busy somewhere else and he’d never run into you.
His thought process was interrupted by a sudden gust of a familiar, intoxicating scent. The warm vanilla aroma was enough to bring him right back to the night he was sitting next to you.  He instinctively opened his eyes, and as if they had a mind of their own, they scanned the room until they found you.
You had to be kidding him.
It seems you had fun with your outfit today. The dark, belt-like, denim mini skirt fits your plump ass perfectly, not too revealing, but leaving little to the imagination. Your black, cropped tube top hung low, showing off enough cleavage to make Jeongguk’s breath hitch. Gold jewelry was scattered throughout your body, from your earrings, down to the buckle of your black strappy heels.
Your enticing scent mixed with your alluring visuals were enough to make Jeongguk’s pants tighten up around him. Flustered with his body’s reaction, he cursed the alcohol for not kicking in sooner. The image of you was now sure to plague his mind for the rest of the week.
Eager to relieve his frustration, he stood up again and made his way to the game of spin the bottle his friends were playing. If it wasn’t with you tonight, it’d be someone else. He didn’t even bother looking at who was playing, needing someone to distract him immediately. 
Eyes fixated on the bottle, he waited until it was either his turn or it landed on him. But before he was given a chance to spin it for the first time, the bottle landed right in his direction.
“Hell no.” 
He recognized that voice too well, down to the tone in which you had spoken. The tone you always used on him when his mere presence worked you up. He followed the direction in which the other side of the bottle pointed towards.
“C’mon y/n, rules are rules” Jihyo laughed next to you, obviously instigating the situation.
“There’s no way I’m going into that closet with him, especially not for seven minutes are you crazy? He’s gonna accuse me of blowing someone again!” You threw your hands in annoyance, ready to re-spin the bottle before Taehyung’s hand stopped your own.
“If you know it wasn’t true, why do you still bring it up” Jeongguk spoke, earning everyone’s attention. He wouldn’t go weak, not now. His plan wasn’t to convince you to go with him, but it was a common occurrence for the both of you to fight for the last word.
“He’s right y/nnie, are you gonna pussy out now?” Taehyung teased her.
“I’ll fucking kill you, all of you” You got up, walking across the circle to lift Jeongguk by his arm and drag him towards the bedroom door, pushing him inside the closet. “I’ll start the timer” Jimin giggled from the living room.
It was a small space, not suitable to hang in, but roomy enough to sit with a reasonable distance between them. “Why’d you give in?” Jeongguk raised his brow, confused at your unusual silence towards him. “Because I’m not a coward, stupid.” You rolled your eyes. Despite the closet being dark, Jeongguk was able to see you perfectly. “We don’t actually have to do anything, just sit still and be quiet for the next seven minutes, think you can do that?” You turned to him.
Jeongguk nodded slowly, not in the mood to start a fight. If this were the most “quality time” he could get from you, he’d take it. Although, there was a slight problem.
“Do you think they’ll believe we did anything? They’ll call you a cheater if we come out the way we went in.” Jeongguk paused as you turned to look at him. “Not that I’d care, just thought you might.” He stared directly in front of him and heard you sigh.
Shortly after, he heard some shuffling from your side.
“Let me give you a hickey” You deadpanned, maintaining eye contact even after his eyes went wide. You were now propped up on your knees in front of him. 
“W-what?” He stuttered, taken aback by how casually you had just proposed the idea of sucking on his neck. How were you, someone who insulted him every chance you got, supposed to feel him up? Not that he was complaining, but you had to be joking.
“You’re right, they’ll get suspicious. You don’t have to say yes though, I guess” You sat back on your ass, cringing at yourself for being so straightforward.
“No, w-wait. It’s.. okay.. go.. um.. Go ahead” Jeongguk rambled, his brain already turning into mush at the thought of you being so close to him. 
You perked up at the sound of his permission, rising back up to your knees and maneuvering your way to straddle his lap. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t okay with your placement. Sure, you found the boy annoying, but you couldn’t help and be captivated by the way his thick thighs flexed underneath you. The sight of his veins was more prominent with the shadows of the setting you were in. With one hand on the back of his neck, and the other flush on his chest, you felt his hard pecks through the thin shirt. He slightly gasped at the new position.
“Better access” You shrugged, flipping your hair so it wouldn’t come in between your job. 
Jeongguk was stiff, awfully stiff due to the situation he was in. His hands were laid by his sides, planted on the floor as he felt your hot breath on his neck. He was okay with this, a little too okay, but his nerves were uncontrollable due to the proximity between the two of you. Without any warning, you latched your mouth onto his neck, earning a breathy moan from Jeongguk. 
“Are you a virgin, or what Jeon?” You smirked.
He wasn’t, everyone knew he wasn’t. He knew his way around casual hookups and one-night stands. Only on rare occasions though, not being a usual recurrence for him because of his reserved nature. Still, he was grown and had some experience in that field. However, how could he not react to your touch? The thought of you alone was able to make him grow hot in places only he’d know about.
Your hot tongue danced across the smooth skin of his neck, wetly sucking the spot that made his body twitch, letting you know it was his sweet spot. Hungrily nipping at his skin, quiet moans spilled through the part of his lips. You continued your actions until you felt like it had been enough to create a pretty bruise. Letting go, you blew cool air on the hot skin of his neck, causing goosebumps to form everywhere. 
"There we go, done!"
Just as you were about to peel your body from his, Jeongguk broke. He knew it wasn’t a part of the agreement to touch you, but his hands acted on their own as they formed a grip around your hips. He sharply pressed down, causing your skirt to ride up and inevitably connect your core to the rock-hard tent in his pants. He was now hot and bothered, feeling your teeth in his neck not being something for the weak.
You’d been too busy with his neck to realize how fucked out he’d become with the slightest touch. His lips were puffy, given how many times he had bitten down on them to prevent him from moaning. They had also grown swollen and pink, matching the flush of his cheeks due to the fluster. This only made your core ache, desperate to know what he’d look like after a night with you.
A hand reached over to his face, cupping his jaw, “Guess I was right at Jimin’s, you did wish it had been you, hm?” You teased, not quite knowing what had taken over you. The need to make a mess out of the boy who’d made your life hell for the past year had suddenly become your deepest desire. 
“Please” He whispered, doe eyes pleading for more of your touch. He was now putty in your hands, wanting nothing more than your touch, mouth on his neck left him wanting more. You decided to taunt him, not quite letting him get what he wants yet.
“Please what?” You cocked your head mockingly. He groaned in embarrassment, hiding his face in your neck.
“Use your words puppy, otherwise we’re done here.” You lied, secretly hoping he’d tell you to keep going. While you had no problem leaving him high and dry, that’d make two of you. Being able to feel Jeongguk’s hard cock dangerously close to your clit made your stomach heat up in excitement. With your sanity being long gone, you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d feel like to have him inside of you. His cock would slide up and down your tight walls, making him whimper at the sensation. The veins would simulate you in a way no other, causing your walls to contract around his thick length and milk him for all he’s worth. He’d keep going even after you’d both come, fucking himself stupid only to stare at the white ring forming around his cock as it disappeared inside of your wet pussy. 
Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the boy beneath you finally spoke up, “Kiss me, p-please” He muttered into your neck, slowly raising his eyes to meet yours. “Good boy” You whispered, praising him for his compliance.
You stared at him for a while, gaze growing dark and breath going shallow as you crashed your lips into his. You let all of the hatred and anger you had stored for him, melt into hunger and passion. His grip on your hips grew tighter as your mouths hastily connected. His heart was about to beat out of his chest, warmth coating his entire body and hunger for you growing. With your tits flush against his chest, he was almost sure you could feel the beating of his heart.
Your hands traveled up to his hair, slightly pulling on his ponytail which earned you a gasp, allowing you to slide your tongue past his lips. You explored his mouth until he stopped you by softly sucking on your tongue, being as equally into this as you were. The kiss was frantic, two people who swore they hated each other, finally realizing what they’d been missing out on.
Jeongguk swore he was on cloud nine. Feeling your lips outside of his dreams was something he could get used to, and hoped he’d have the opportunity to do so. Your lips felt so plush against his mouth, tasting sweet like cotton candy. Your tongue worked his mouth so well, making his cock throb at the thought of how it’d feel down there.
You tugged on the ends of his shirt, asking for permission to remove it. He broke the kiss in response, allowing the two of you to catch your breath while you removed his shirt.
He felt shy under your stare, suddenly feeling the need to cover up. He’d been naked in front of girls before, but being with you right now made him incredibly vulnerable. He felt like giving himself to you, allowing you to do whatever you wanted to do to him. What he didn’t know, is that you were too busy drinking him up with your eyes. Arousal gushed out of your puffy pussy, creating a wet patch in your lace panties. His strong pecks and slim waist were enough for you to clench on nothing, desperate for him to fill you up.
“So pretty, all mine for tonight, yea?” Delicate fingertips grazed his abdomen, driving him crazy and desperate for your touch. 
“All yours, y-yours whenever..” He struggled with his words, still trying to get used to interacting with you in a way that was outside of arguing. Despite this, he fully meant what he said, and hoped you’d get the memo.
Wasting no time, you sloppily continued to kiss him, this time bringing your mouth down to his neck again. Wet, open-mouthed kisses coated Jeongguk’s skin, causing it to suddenly feel really sensitive. Your hand slowly trailed down his body, exploring new territory and taking advantage of the situation to feel him up wherever your heart desired. It wasn’t until you brushed one of your hands over his nipple, that he let out a particularly high-pitched whimper.
“Like that baby?” You teased, earning an eager nod and whine in response.
Using a free hand, you reached down to his length, giving it a firm squeeze before softly palming it. The heaviness felt satisfying in your hand, encouraging you to massage him while your mouth trailed lower, lips ghosting over his chest. You placed a kiss right above his brown bud, a short warning before swirling your tongue around it. Sucking on it, Jeongguk basked in the pleasure of the sight and sensation. You knew what you were doing, and that turned him on even more. It was your first time being so intimate with him, yet you seemed to know his weak spots like the back of your hand. 
“F-fuck y/n, need you, pleasee” He admitted, tears brimming his eyes while he sharply bucked up his hips into yours in search of friction.
Still sucking on his bud, you removed your hand from his clothed dick, moving it up to play with his unattended nipple. Giving an experimental roll of your hips, you were satisfied with how Jeongguk reacted, slightly choking on his spit from the friction on his cock. You kept bucking forward slowly until eventually setting a pace. Grinding down on his cock, you smeared the arousal that had leaked from your panties onto his jeans, making his head fall back. His breathing became quick at the newfound sensation. The material of his jeans rubbed his cock deliciously, in addition to feeling the warmth and dampness of your sweet cunt. 
“Just like that” He whined, matching your pace as your pussy repeatedly rubbed on his shaft.
“This is what you wanted the whole time wasn’t it? Just wanted me to make you cum, hm?” You pressed down your clit onto his tip, making him whimper pathetically. One of your hands traveled back to his head, tugging on his hair to make him face you.
“I- fuck” 
“Answer the question” You tightened your grip.
“Yes! Wanted you y/n, so, so bad- ahhh” He tapped on your thighs trying to get you to slow down.
“ ‘m gonna cum soon if y-you don’t stop” His actions contradicted his words as he instinctively rutted his hips harder into you, chasing his high.
“You wanted this baby, now take it.” You worked your knees against the floor, pushing into Jeongguk’s cock as much as possible to help him reach his high. At some point, you pressed down onto a spot on his tip that made him cry, only motivating you to press down harder. 
His lip trembled as fat tears fell from his eyes, mewling as his vision began to blur and ringing filled his ears. Your hands came up to his cheeks, wiping away at his evidence of mind-fucking pleasure. “Such a sensitive baby, cum for me Gukkie” You cooed, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten at his fucked out face.
With his high right around the corner, he feverishly bucked his hips into yours. His movements began to stutter as the coil in his stomach became undone, causing him to shoot his thick load into his pants with a loud wail. His body convulsed under yours as his orgasm made him shake uncontrollably. He chanted a string of curses with your name as you continued with your pace on his dick, loving how shamelessly vocal he was. He held onto your body tight, once again digging his head into the crook of your neck as he came down from his high, only now realizing he had cummed in his pants. 
You continued your movements until his lips formed a pout and his eyes became glossy again, “No more, too much..” He mumbled into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer as your hips stopped all movement. Feeling how soft the boy had grown under you, your hands soothingly rubbed his back and let him hold you for as long as he needed. “Did so well, Gukkie, so so well” you whispered and gently kissed the crown of his head. 
Once his breathing returned to normal, his head quickly shot up to come face to face with you. “Did you cum?” He questioned, eyes beginning to glitter with lust once more. “No, but it’s oka-” Your words were cut short by the sudden loss of contact, Jeongguk’s body quickly moving down to face your legs. 
“Jeongguk really, it’s okay. Don’t feel like you owe me.” You reached a hand down to caress his face which was now positioned dangerously close to your aching heat. 
“Don’t care, wan’ make you feel good too.” He kissed your thigh, slowly working his way up until he allowed his tongue to fall flat against your clothed core. The sweet taste of your damp panties left him craving more, wasting no time in pushing your panties aside before looking up at you for permission. 
“been a good boy, right?” He whimpered, blood rushing to his cock again at the sight of the meal in front of him, as well as your pretty, desperate face.
“Mhmm, my good boy” You whispered, using the hand on his face to slightly push him towards you, not having to use too much force as Jeongguk voluntarily dipped in, immediately getting to work. 
Safe to say, the timer had been long forgotten about.
A/N: I'd b lying if i said i didn't stall a wee bit to drop this loll feel free to leave feedback, I'm a new writer and always willing to do better &lt;3
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