#when they ask why you need teeth for a project meme
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-Use me to get over him-
High school AU-Mysta Rias x reader-pt2 of 'As you wish'
In which your friendship between you and your classmate gets confusing. With your crush showing mixed signs and your classmate makes his move.
(Please do not take this seriously. This is for fun and fun only. If any streamer comes across this I apologize! Anyways please enjoy!!"
--Recap--
"I see I see, did you get their number?Hehe"
"Shit,I didn't"
"Ah it should be fine, you could always get it tomorrow yknow"
"Yknow what, I actually will"
-The next day-
Munching on your favorite meal for breakfast is the best thing that has happened to you all this week. Other than the news of what your crush had brought upon you, you still couldn't help but still like him. Human emotions were something confusing to everyone, you knew that you would find yourself eventually.
With your headphones on the table and your textbook at the side, you decided to take a small break from reading the book and look on social media. Ignoring the irrelevant people like your annoying cousins you realize that you have like 7 messages from the same person. Your science lab partner, Shu Yamino.
--
Shu.YaMinion69: Mysta has something to ask you later
Shu.YaMinion69:*insert meme*
Shu.YaMinion69:Also I need help with the science homework-
Shu.YaMinion69:BTW C/n texted me to tell you that he will meet you in the 'place where he pulled you last time'
Shu.YaMinion69:I think he is a weirdo but like he could have texted you instead of me
Shu.YaMinion69:You need to tell me about whatever he meant, we have science tomorrow so yes
Shu.YaMinion69:Look at this
Shu.YaMinion69:*insert reel*
--
Reading the texts, you found it also odd that C/n texted Shu instead of you. You follow him on nearly every social platform there is and you guys also did text before because of projects and homework. It was truly weird to you but in reality, this guy was only using you to get closer to R/n. He just didn't want to be in your dm's because he knew that R/n was the jealous type. She would accuse him of cheating even if the texts shared between the two parties were from just two weeks before they started dating. She was that delusional.
Noticing the time, you replied to Shu quickly and shoved your books in your bag. Plugging your headphones in and slid on your shoes. You began your cold morning to school. 'how enjoyable.'
--
The day was going far too normal for your liking well that was until you were pulled into the janitor's closet. 'this is definitely C/n's doings' You thought to yourself but only to be proven wrong when you heard the unique voice of Mysta Rias himself.
"Heyy um Hi Y/n" The grip on your wrist was bearable but still it was tight. You gave him a confused look before opening your mouth.
"Mysta? Why did you pull me in here-hehe I thought that you were c/n"You chuckled to yourself at the thought of your crush but remembered again about what he told you the day before.
"Well, that's kinda the- actually no. I wanted to ask you for your number" His tone set you off, he looked a bit frantic but what he was asking you was something much different. You saw a pen in the pocket of his buttoned shirt so you took it. Next thing Mysta knew, you were scribbling the digits of your number on the back of his hand.
The fox-like boy kept looking at the door but the grip on your wrist had loosened a bit."Why are you so scared?"You questioned Mysta while you finished writing the last three numbers.
"There is something I wanted to ask of you and I did?"He scratched the back of his head with his other hand. Seemingly that he was still nervous around you, you let go of his hand.
"Why so unsure? anyways I want to eat my fo-"
"WAIT! Uh I mean I saw two students making out in the classroom beside and I just don't want you to see that cause they were getting into it. All SLOPPY yeah- and it just was a stomach-churning scene hehe" It was like Mysta was lying between his teeth cause he latched onto your wrist once more.
"We've both seen Shoto and Vox get all sloppy at that one party before, I think I can take thi-" He squeezed your wrist tighter.
"Trust me, it is bad, let's just wait another 5 minutes please.."He was really begging you to not go even though he got your number. Sighing in defeat, you just gave in to him.
"Okay Mysta, you win" you smiled at him and the male student in front of you returned the favor, letting go of you once again.
There were still 15 minutes of lunch left so both you and Mysta decided that the coast was clear now. Mysta even double-checked by looking both left and right as he poked his head out of the janitor's closet.
--
As you parted ways, Mysta whipped out his phone and Dm'ed Shu.
MystariasRias: I found C/n and R/n making out in the spare, empty classroom beside the janitor's closet and Y/n was gonna walk by.
Seen
--
There were many incidents where Mysta had to pull you aside to prevent you from seeing R/n and C/n kissing, hugging, and doing couple things in the open. This was happening for the rest of the week and you questioned it after the second time Mysta did it.
You were going to the canteen/cafeteria but then you were stopped once you saw Mysta across the hall. This just made you turn to face the other side and walk the longer route.
He was speed-walking to you but you honestly didn't want to be pulled aside once more. 'Not this again' You internally groaned to yourself because you knew that you would end up being in a secluded area with Mysta and miss out on half of your lunch again.
"Y/n wait!-" you were tugged into the embrace of the fox-like boy but your eyes met with familiar ones. It was C/n but looking down, you saw R/n holding his hand, fingers interlocked.
"Oh Hi Y/n, uh we have to get going, goodbye" You were devastated, you found your own rival with your crush. Well, now ex-crush. She always takes whoever you liked in the end. 'How tiring' They were heading in the direction you came from, looking at the as they passed by. R/n looked back and waved while smiling at you then she continued to follow C/n.
Pulling into a hug, Mysta stroked your hair while you just stay there in shock. You were still processing what just had happened. Thinking that all those times, Mysta was protecting you from seeing your own crush with your rival. The person who betrayed you.
Once the information processed in, you began to tear up and cry. Your arms tightened around him, pulling you in by the waist as you let all your emotions erupt. It was comforting as it lasted, you wanted to stay in his warm embrace but he pulled you into the classroom where C/n and R/n had come from. It was where your next class was.
"Use me to get over him"
Mysta,who was hugging you. It was all friendly as you let go of all your frustrations. His hands were wrapped around you like he was protective of you. Then and there,you realised that Mysta was the one who like you for you.
In a whispered tone, the fox like male hushed you with his welcoming voice.
"as you wish"
In all honesty, this was really short and not really well made because I have been sick for the past 2 weeks . I hope you guys enjoyed it regardless <3
--Use me to get over him-pt2 done--
taglist: @yukkitosposts , @gh0stwrl , @hisanory2702
#shu yamino#fanfiction#nijisanji#nijisanjien#ike eveland#luca kaneshiro#luxiem#mysta rias#vox akuma#fanfiction writer#mysta rias x reader#high school au#◇koshi's writings◇#♡koshirulynn
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Dr Bright is a Victorian era bitch
Holy fuck I forgot
He’s pretty damn old and that’s hilarious
Why don’t I see this shit more??? Meme man needs historical memes!!!
(Adds this to the list of “my Dr Bright canon” shit)
(So far I’ve got is
- trauma™️ make ha ha funny coping mechanism
-has a breakdown at least twice a week
- will throw his medallion at a bitch for coffee
- half of the List™️ is an inside joke the other half is legit, no one but Jack knows which is which
- he’s a smart boi, but they’re so memed a lot of people forget and get bamboozled at random moments and yes Jack finds this hilarious
- “gotta keep ‘em on their toes” -Jack at some point
- will teeth on his medallion to soothe nerves
- gender? Who she? Jack is an immortal depressed bitch, that’s all you need to know (aka, he’s mostly he/they but really he/any, is this me projecting? Just a little bit)
- they have a green and a red eye, but when switching bodies the one with the medallion keeps the green eye while the clone gets two red, Idk I just like this detail
- have joked about his age, but doesn’t usually
- lowkey can be really sweet, just turns chaotic really fast
- has a soft spot for younger staff and scp, because brother side kicks in, but knows not to let it get in the way of work (mostly)
-my Jack was born in the late 1880’s btw
- has stormed target once on Black Friday with Clef, don’t ask
- has and will drag others into online memes and trends (specifically TikTok because he is that little shit)
#scp#dr bright#dr jack bright#dr elias shaw#headcanon#my canon#it’s scp#there is no canon#this is just mine#fuck the admin#this my boi now#jack is an icon
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been a while since 150 words meme innit. and now that I have finished my exchange fic (woo!!!) and was just looking at some of my other wips and going "huh some of these are good actually, I should get back to them"...and I have some flight time/days off coming up...seems like a good time for a round of this
so! send me a number from the list below (with sample excerpts from the fics on offer this time) and I'll write 150 words in that project. you may send me up to three different numbers if you really can't choose.
mix of CQL/MDZS, Kinnporsche, and some wild cards under the read more
1. Xiao Xingchen was still bursting with questions, but he held them back for now, instead cupping Xue Yang’s face and kissing him. “You don’t have to take me anywhere nice,” he said. “I just want to be with you.”
Xue Yang made a strangled, choking sound followed by a laugh. “Xingchen, oh my god,” he said. “You can’t just say that.” His face was, Xiao Xingchen was delighted to see, bright red.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Why not, he says,” Xue Yang said. “Why not. Because it’s so unbelievably goddamn sappy, Xingchen, I’m getting secondhand embarrassment.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Xiao Xingchen said, smiling, more than a little pleased with himself. “So you don’t need to be.” (Redux)
2. “Quiet, Felix,” Malkar said. His words cut through mine like a knife through a throat. I could almost taste the blood. I shut my mouth and looked down at my hands. “Look at me,” Malkar said, harder, and I quickly lifted my head again but I couldn’t quite look right at him. My breathing was getting quicker. Malkar hadn’t moved from where he was sitting but the way he was looking at me he didn’t have to, and I knew he could hurt me just fine from over there if he wanted. I swallowed, trying to figure out what he wanted from me.
“You are an eager young thing, aren’t you,” Malkar said, sort of like he thought it was funny and sort of like he thought I was stupid. My stomach was all hot and squirmy and a little piece of me wanted him to just hit me and get it over with, but Malkar wasn’t like that. (Pygmalion)
3. Porsche called him midafternoon on Thursday when Vegas was reviewing some accounts and trying to figure out where he wanted to start carving out his niche. He was eyeing the wine imports and debating whether the lackluster returns were a result of bad decision-making or meant that it just wasn’t a very lucrative market for them when his phone started buzzing. He glanced at it briefly before picking up, just in case it was someone he really didn’t want to talk to.
“Hey, Porsche,” he said, running his finger down a column of numbers without really looking at them, feeling the slight texture of ink on the page. “Need something?”
There was a brief pause that brought Vegas’s finger to a halt. Followed by Porsche saying, “the most important thing here is that everything is going to be fine.” (Undercut)
4. People kept telling Vegas he was lucky.
Lucky to be alive; lucky that none of the bullets had hit his heart, lucky that one of them had lodged just right to prevent an arterial bleed, lucky to avoid surgical complications or an infection considering, quote, the severity of the damage.
Lucky to be getting the best care and treatment in state-of-the-art facilities thanks to his uncle’s generosity, so fortunate, Vegas, aren’t you grateful.
At first, for a while, Vegas was mostly just tired. (post canon vegaspete long(er) fic)
5. “You want to know why I haven’t moved on?” Xue Yang said. “Why you can’t get rid of me, Song-daozhang, no matter how much you want to?”
Song Lan set his teeth.
“It’s you,” Xue Yang said. “Isn’t that hilarious? I’m haunting you because you’re keeping me here. I made you, and you killed me, and if you didn’t have me you’d really be alone.”
Song Lan shook his head and tried without thinking to speak the words: no, that’s not true. It came out a mess of sounds. Humiliation swept over him when Xue Yang laughed.
“Forgot, did you,” he said. “I’m right, you know I’m right, you hate me but I’m the only other person now who knows what it’s like. You hate me but I’m the person you know best still left in this shitty world and you don’t want to be alone.”
Song Lan turned his back, resolute, refusing to look at the ghost. His heart was in his mouth; he felt sick. No, he thought. No, it’s not true. I don’t want…
“Blood and death ties people together,” Xue Yang said. “And you and me, Zichen, we’ve got plenty of both between us.” (the poison in your bones)
6. “I don’t think I’m better than everybody else,” Song Lan said. “I never have. I try to…I do my best to live by my principles.” Xue Yang’s silence felt eloquent. “When have I claimed my superiority over others?”
“You don’t have to say it,” Xue Yang said. “It’s written all over you. The way you walk, the way you look at everyone around you like they’re not worth your time.”
Song Lan was surprised by the pang of hurt. “That’s not how I feel,” he objected, but he knew – he’d heard it before, hadn’t he? He knew that people saw him as cold, aloof, unfeeling. They took his discomfort for distaste and his quiet for contempt. He was not Xingchen, who approached the world with an open heart; he never had been, but he had never needed to be.
“Is that why you hate me so much?” Song Lan said.
“It’s one reason,” Xue Yang said after a while. “I have plenty of others now.” He paused, and then said, bitter as wormwood again, “besides, even if you don’t think you’re better than everybody else, you definitely think you’re better than me, and you’re not. If you’d lived my life, who’s to say that you wouldn’t turn out just the same?”
“I wouldn’t,” Song Lan objected, appalled.
“You say that so easily,” Xue Yang said, his voice muffled, like he’d turned his mouth into his arm. “Like you just know, but you don’t. You can’t.”
“I know I’m not a murderer,” he said. Xue Yang let out a harsh bark of a laugh.
“Maybe you weren’t,” he said. “You sure are now.”
That ended that conversation. (Walking Far From Home)
7. “Bringing a full complement of bodyguards would be too conspicuous,” said Khun Kinn. Khun Vegas smiled and Pete thought oh no.
“I agree,” he said. “But there is room for a plus one. He knows my staff, and most of your bodyguards, but an unfamiliar face…” Khun Vegas’s eyes drifted very slightly in Porsche’s direction before moving back to Khun Kinn.
Oh, no, Pete thought again, but with a little more despair this time.
“Take Pete,” Khun Kinn said.
Vegas’s gaze swept to Pete, flicked slowly over him from head to toe. “Isn’t he one of Khun’s?” he said. “He won’t be thrilled that you’re loaning out his bodyguard to me.”
“That’s not your problem.”
“Considering Khun,” Vegas said, “it actually might end up being my problem.” (the devil drives)
8. “You’re a disgrace,” Kinn said. Vegas could feel his breath as he spoke. He grinned; it felt wild and barely sane.
“And yet your family would be fucked without me to do your dirty work.”
“Our family,” Kinn said pointedly.
“Only when it’s convenient.” Vegas released Kinn’s shirt and shoved at his chest, pushing him back a step. “Otherwise? As far as your papa is concerned we might as well be your dogs. Or your whores.”
Kinn’s jaw clenched. “That’s just you,” he said, cold in contrast to the hot anger in his eyes. “And don’t pretend you don’t enjoy your dirty work.”
“Just me,” Vegas said. He felt dizzy, reckless, his pulse throbbing in his ears. Drunker than he knew he was. “Which one, Kinn? Am I your dog or your whore?” (no tenderness)
9. “What’d you do?” asked the guy who’d introduced himself as Jace, who made Xue Yang think of nothing as much as the verb to skitter. Xue Yang drummed his fingers on his legs, considering how to answer that question.
“I killed twelve people,” he said. “Would’ve been fourteen but one person was out of the house and another one I just fucked up the follow-through.”
Three pairs of eyes stared at him. Xue Yang felt the corner of his mouth tug a little and he shrugged again. “What can I say, I’m precocious.”
“Why?” Freddy asked. Xue Yang’s stomach clenched like a fist. He considered giving his flippant answer (I had a bad day) and his make-people-mad answer (they looked at me funny) and decided on the answer his lawyer had tried giving.
“Just snapped, I guess,” he said. “I don’t really remember. It’s all sort of blurry.” Straight up lie, that. He remembered everything with razor sharp clarity and hoped he would forever. He’d need it. (Caged)
10. Liu Mingyan was a problem.
If she had to be fair (though Sha Hualing was not generally interested in being fair), she was less annoying than her brother, but that was setting a remarkably high bar, and she was more annoying to Sha Hualing specifically. As far as Sha Hualing could tell, Mingyan-guniang had made it her business to interfere with Sha Hualing’s business at every possible opportunity. Sometimes it seemed like she couldn’t turn around in the Human Realm without running into her, even when Sha Hualing wasn’t doing anything wrong. Or hadn’t done anything yet, anyway. Or at least hadn’t done anything Liu Mingyan could possibly know about. (under pressure)
11. “Xue Yang,” the idiot went on, and Xue Yang’s stomach clenched like he saw Xiao Xingchen’s right hand do. “I don’t know how you escaped your rightful fate, but this time I’ll make sure I personally witness your head rolling in the dirt. And we’ll see what explanation our esteemed Chief Cultivator has for lying about your death.”
Xue Yang glanced at Xiao Xingchen, trying to read his expression, what he was thinking. If they’d told him then he should be on their side, shouldn’t he? Unless they didn’t believe he hadn’t known, but then why hadn’t Xiao Xingchen said something, made some kind of accusation–
He was trying to think too many things at once and none of them were getting him anywhere.
Xue Yang screwed up his face into his best expression of offended confusion. “Who are you and what the fuck are you talking about?” (Entanglement)
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For the stuck writing project ask meme, 1, 2, and 13?
1. what is the dumbest possible version of the next sentence you need to write?
I am, for some reason, working on several scenes in parallel because when one gets hard I can just jump ship to the next, but basically:
Daniil whyyyyy are you extending Stakh's coat, he doesn't want it, he doesn't, he - Noukher whyyyyyyyy are you dipping your head down to take it between your teeth
[insert cool smashcut to Andrey and Nastya kicking Daniil and Asclepius out of Peter's Loft here]
Hey Aglaya, here's the blueprints you wanted - why yes I DID ignore your telling me to only do things in their right time, I can timetravel bitch.
listen, it said "dumbest possible version" okay I tried.
2. what is the dumbest possible description of the scene you are trying to work on?
Once again, multiple scenes, so:
Artemy would like to not be having an emotion re: Stakh's death, unfortunately his daemon and Daniil and Lara are all conspiring against that. It's awkward for e v e r y o n e, especially when he's now trying to not have an emotion about the sexual/intimacy tension re: his daemon ALMOST touching Daniil's hand again as well.
Snake will stop at nothing to get blueprints from dead man's home. Told to bring said man back to life he takes it very much to heart but until then - assault and robbery! :D
Local thanatologst childishly flexing his time-bending powers in front of woman who wants him dead, is promptly informed he's a toy in retaliation.
13. what’s a song that fits the current mood you need?
oh god I. do not think of music in conjunction with writing so, really, complete silence, but uhhhhhhhh let's see. The first of these is fraught awkwardness, so tbh I think the usual Shelter theme might work well for it, which the wiki tells me is called Window to the Past. It's slow and ponderous and mourning and fits.
Realising this has made me just go digging into the Patho 2 soundtrack to see what might fit for the rest, so I'm taking that as my out. You Aren't Welcome Here goes well with the snake robbery, esp as it has those little plucks or w/e that are reminiscent of the Broken Heart theme.
And for the last scene, hmmm. I'm not sure about this one. The first half of the scene actually feels like it might suit the stranger vibe of the Classic HD soundtrack more, like say the Most Main track, and then when Aglaya drops the news on him it goes straight into Mad Mother Earth because I associate that song so much with just that "Oh Fuck" feeling and it sounds like having bees in your brain. Feels fitting for an existential crisis.
If anyone fancies playing this for themselves, here it is!
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24. How do they relax? Is that a solitary activity, a group activity, or both?
36. What would they gift to their partner or their best friends to show their affection?
42. Let them vent for a second, without the fear of being judged. What would they like to say?
24. How do they relax? Is that a solitary activity, a group activity, or both?
Kal'istae tends to relax best when she's by herself, but she's not adverse to whiling away the hours in the company of her friends or family. Her favorite method of relaxing is to either curl up with a book in bed or before a fire, or to take her basket of plush-making supplies and either continue a project in progress, or make a new one. Lately, such rare downtime has been spent with Thancred or Raha or both of them, at seperate tasks but undeniably together.
36. What would they gift to their partner or their best friends to show their affection?
We've talked before about Kal'istae's tendency to gift those close to her with her plushes, so let's consider how Szah'li offers those very, very rare tokens of appreciation or affection. Although he is currently in the phase of going out of his way to avoid letting anyone close - he's not entirely succeeding. But he's not sure he wants them to know that they've made any progress in befriending him, so he takes the feral kitten route - he leaves his presents in obvious places when they're not around. And, predictably, said presents consists of special rocks, or interesting pieces of wood, or arrangments of plants or feathers bound together to make an ornament.
Count Edmont has particularly begun to look forward finding small gifts on his desk in his office and displays them openly on a shelf he cleared off specifically for the purpose of showing off his young ward's gifts. He's never let Szah'li knows that he knows, and Szah'li has never let the Count know how touched he is to see his latest gift upon the shelf - but they both know.
42. Let them vent for a second, without the fear of being judged. What would they like to say?
Kyszarin's eyes narrow, his ears trembling with a fine rage. "You're so insular and isolated, you've forgotten that you belong to a world beyond your trees. You look down upon anyone who won't follow your narrow rules that you enforce with an iron fist, and any who dare question you are immedately cast out upon the mercy of the world beyond. You deny fathers the chance to know their children; you deny children half of their heritage by refusing them their fathers, and you wonder why every year more and more of the young strike out and leave."
His teeth bare, his violet eyes glinting angrily, then he turns his back in disgust with a gesture of derision - and shoulders hunched, waiting for a painful blow. "We don't need you," he mutters - but his tone is unconvinced. "We don't need anyone but each other."
Original Ask Meme
Thank you for the ask!
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It’s the Summer of Barbenheimer and we’re all just living in the shadow of its hot pink mushroom cloud. The double whammy of Greta Gerwig’s Barbie and Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer offered audiences one of the most exciting cinema double bills since long before the pandemic, and they came out in droves for both. Now, Barbie is the second highest-grossing movie of 2023 so far, and Oppenheimer, a three-hour biographical drama about the Manhattan Project, has grossed more money than The Little Mermaid and Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One.
The frenzy this double bill inspired, from themed parties and cocktails to the best memes of the season, drove home the genuine desire that film lovers had for something they could truly sink their teeth into. Sure, one is based on a toy and the other is a pretty traditional biopic, but both films represented a kind of change that we needed in the pop culture landscape. One such yearning: more stand-alone movies!
...we’ve come to expect a tease for a cinematic universe that may or may not come to fruition. Remember the Dark Universe? Or the six-film King Arthur universe Guy Ritchie was supposed to make? Or the Robin Hood series with Taron Egerton that ended after the first installment? There’s a reason people were wondering if films like Oppenheimer would have a post-credits sequence: because we’re so painfully used to having every movie end with a tacked-on promise for more, whether or not it makes sense or there’s any true hunger for it (and the possibility of an Oppenheimer post-credits scene is faintly terrifying: Which creation of a devastating weapon does it hint at next?).
Why is it now so rare to get a stand-alone film with a beginning, middle, end, and a guarantee of a complete narrative? Yes, us grumpy critics have been complaining about sequel overload for decades now, but things definitely feel different now. You can watch Die Hard and be perfectly satisfied because it existed as its own thing long before the idea of a sequel entered the filmmakers’ brains. It doesn’t spend half its running time setting up hints for future stories and a bunch of story threads that are never paid off. There’s also a distinct lack of adult-focused mid-budget films in the current theatrical market. While neither Barbie nor Oppenheimer technically qualify for this since both films cost over $100 million, they do fit into that increasingly rare niche by merit of their focus on telling a singular story that isn’t dependent on the viewer having to do a ton of homework before tuning in.
...when I see articles offering ideas for Barbie sequels, I can’t help but feel disappointed. Part of what made Gerwig’s film so special was its densely layered, funny, heart-aching, and complete story. You leave the theater feeling so satisfied because you got what you were promised (and so much more). Oppenheimer is complex, with a vast ensemble and most of its lengthy running time dedicated to conversations about physics and ethics that Nolan refuses to dumb down. Why would you ever walk out of that film wondering about plans for an expanded universe? You just know some studio head floated the idea at some point.
It seems like so little to ask for, yet it feels inevitable that Hollywood will learn all the wrong lessons from the success of Barbie and Oppenheimer. Expect more sequels about toys and fewer emotionally driven tales that give viewers exactly what they want. But our hunger for stand-alone stories remains strong. We don’t have the time nor inclination to watch every film we see evolve into a decade-plus commitment that has a strong chance of being abandoned long before it reaches that much-hyped climax. Let Barbenheimer lead the way and remind Hollywood that it’s okay for things to end.'
#Oppenheimer#Barbie#Barbenheimer#Greta Gerwig#Mission Impossible Dead Reckoning Part One#Christopher Nolan#The Manhattan Project#The Little Mermaid
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9 and 49 for the writer meme?
9. Do you comment on stories you read?
not as often as i should. it's a combination of executive dysfunction + being pretty private about my fic reading habits. i could sign out to leave a comment so no one will know it's me but that is SO MUCH WORK to sign out and then back in (sometimes i skip kudos for this same reason, lol). but i usually make an effort to comment on anything i subscribe to, or reread more than a few times. it's part of why i don't guilt trip people about leaving comments - i'm pretty bad about remembering to leave them myself. and it's why i hate the guilt-trippy culture around leaving comments on fics. of course it's great to leave comments when you can, and i love getting them too, but blaming lurkers for people giving up writing altogether is so shitty lol. no one is ever obligated to comment!! if writing only makes you happy if you get feedback then you don't have to do it anymore!! geez.
i guess writing an incredibly niche project like @cambionverse made me realize you don't really need tons of comments on your fanfic, if you have one or two friends who are happy to get excited with you that's more than enough. not to make light of situations where i DO get lots of comments...i'm still humbled every time i even think about the response to broken road. the outpouring of love for that fic was so special and likely something i'll never experience again. but you can't ever predict or manufacture that sort of situation, so it CANNOT be your only motivation for writing, or you'll just bum yourself out :(
49. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?
not very often! every once in awhile someone is rude on purpose or accidentally. i don't like starting conflict, but i don't have any problem finishing it if the other person is 100% out of line. so if someone is rude on purpose i will just be rude back. easy. i love when i get to people dipshits for clicking on a fic they hated and then complaining to me personally instead of backing out. if someone is rude on accident i will grit my teeth in my reply but ultimately be civil, if perhaps a bit chilly. i've been rude on accident too many times not to allow someone the benefit of the doubt lol
[ASK MEME]
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step 1: get good at art
step 2: open commissions
step 3: charge people in teeth
step 4: ???
step 5: profit
#goblincore#teeth#crowcore#shitpost#meme#chaos#how do i tag properly#idk but i want your teeth#hand them over#boglife#goblinthings#dirtcore#this is out of context but it's based off of that one#when they ask why you need teeth for a project meme
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Ch. 2
Shigaraki Birthday Celebration! 18+ MINORS DNI
Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: reader is marked fem cause Tomura is a little sexist and hates you cause you’re a woman, no pronouns, incel!shiggy, collage au/no quirks, tomura is an asshole, gratuitous swearing, like so much, shiggy has a dirty mouth, mentions of shigs being anxious, brief male masturbation, tags will be added for smut in the next two parts
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6
Summary: In which studying is done, unwilling connections are made, and Tomura thinks about the way you smell a totally normal amount.
AO3 mirror
Taglist: @dillybuggg (just shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged!
Tomura hadn’t stopped staring at his phone since he left the apartment. It was second nature by now—head down at a nearly ninety degree angle, hoodie pulled up to hide hair he hadn’t bothered to comb in weeks, and phone out, held just far enough away that he could see the pavement behind the screen.
He’d found that people tended to naturally avoid him this way and he didn’t have to risk accidentally making eye contact. It was still a bit nerve wracking to venture into buildings he didn’t expressly have to for classes, so he was still hesitant to make the voyage from his apartment to the library. But he’d made the mistake of mentioning plans to his roommate and the bastard wouldn’t leave him alone about it afterwards until he was practically shoved out with the door locked behind him.
He was half tempted to make up some excuse last minute and go hide out at the only cafe on campus he could tolerate, but Tomura knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Biting the bullet now would help to not prolong his suffering.
Your text thread glared up at him in stark white on blue as he pushed past a crowd of students by the library entrance and flashed his ID to the attendant.
Group Project Bitch:
— hey I got us a room on the third floor, all the way in the back
—text me when you’re here I’ll wave you in, it’s kinda hard to find T-T
sounds good—
He shot off a quick text to you that he was hoping on the elevator. The other two guys in the lift may have given him a dirty look for only going up to the third floor, but Tomura sure as hell wasn’t going to risk the physical exertion of stares when just the thought being stuck in a small room alone with you for god knows how long already had him sweating.
When he stepped out, you were leaned against one of the 90s-green shelves, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. He panicked momentarily, thinking he’d have to get your attention cause just walking up without saying anything would be weird right?
He wasn’t sure.
He didn’t do shit like this.
Thankfully, you looked up at the chime of the lift and waved him over. His red sneakers squeaked as they scuffed the linoleum floors and he already regretted choosing his tighter fitting pair of sweats. The tapered legs that hugged his ankles and thin calves rubbed against his skin and stung the raw patches.
“Hey, thanks for coming,” you said softly and he nodded, following as you began to weave through the stacks. “Sorry it was short notice, graduation’s coming up so I'm swamped with meetings.”
“It’s fine, I didn’t have anything going on.”
He cringed internally at the way his voice cracked, trying to keep the usual rasp to a minimum. His roommate said it was from the innumerable hours he spent shouting at his monitor or on discord, which was probably true but to you he was sure he just sounded like a fucking teenager.
“Cool, I’ve been set up for awhile so feel free to move some stuff,” you talked a bit louder now that you’d both stepped into the study room and shut the door.
Tomura looked around. You’d snagged one of the nicer ones at least, with the big monitors he could cast his screen onto and those comfy chairs he liked but could never beat anyone too on the lower floors.
You were right, there was shit all over the big table at the center of the room. Notes and printed out readings with highlights galore and sticky notes littering the pages were scattered all over. What a show off. You probably tossed all this stuff out so he’d think you were actually intelligent or some shit.
Kicking a pile off of the nearest plush armchair, Tomura took a seat and pulled his laptop out. There was a jack in the middle of the table and you plugged yours in to cast onto the big monitor.
You made a fucking power point for him.
This couldn’t be real.
“So I know I ran some stuff by you in class but essentially I was thinking we make like a simple Twine type thing using the rhetorical argument Swift is making…”
You started rambling again and Tomura almost immediately tuned you out. His eyes drifted between the rough outline you were flicking through on the board and the laptop you had your nose buried in.
It was covered in stickers, pretty obviously stereotypical for someone as obsessed with being ‘cool’ as you clearly were. But as he scanned through the various old meme phrases and aesthetic shit, he caught a couple of game references he recognized and a panel cutout from one of his favorite manga.
He almost fell into your trap for a moment, feeling a rush at the prospect of someone—much less a chick—being into his main hyperfixations.
But it was quickly crushed under everything his years trolling subreddits had taught him. People like you didn’t actually have interests beyond the attention and dick it got them. Plus that manga was pretty popular anyway, you probably didn’t even read it, just thought the line was funny or made you sound quirky. That had to be why you felt the need to drop it in your first texts.
“What do you think?” you asked, making good on your new habit of startling the hell out of him.
Tomura blinked, gaze instinctively turning to you but the blatant way you stared made his mouth turn to sand paper, so he looked resolutely back at the color-coded bullet points on the screen.
“Look’s fine,” he mumbled.
The more he glanced over it, the more it actually did look fine. A bit more than fine, really, which pissed him off even more. The little choose-your-own debate style story was not a terrible way to make fucking Whatever Swift interesting and it kinda looked like you’d bothered to google some simple coding which gave him a better idea of what you were looking for.
It was...good.
And that so fucking annoying.
Well, he wasn’t sure if annoying was the right word for it, but the proposal coupled with your apparent lack of disgust at working with him made his face hot and that only ever happened otherwise when his roommate left the dishes out for weeks or when some newb on his server fucked up their raids.
Then, you had the audacity to plop down in the chair next to him and—
“You can tell me to fuck off if you want,” you began, shuffling in the chair to cross your legs on the cushion, “but I was hoping you’d be willing to show me how you do some of the coding stuff? I tried on my own, but I have literally no clue what I’m doing.”
He could smell you again, like the whole fucking health and beauty aisle at the grocery store. When he turned his head a bit to look at you around the curtain of his hair, you were crooked—back against the armrest and facing him.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked, sounding a bit less rude than he would have liked to.
You just fucking stared right at him though, didn’t wrinkle your nose at how greasy his roots were or how he was wearing the same hoodies as yesterday.
“I’ve always been interested in it, but my program is kinda stressful and I don’t have much free time so I never learned,” you offered and for once Tomura found he didn’t feel his skin crawl under your unwavering gaze.
The dry, cracked area around his eyes burned though as sweat beaded on his forehead and he quickly wiped at his face with a loose sweatshirt sleeve. The garment hung off his shoulders, bought a size too big that he never ended up growing into.
“What’s your major?”
He found the words slipped easily from him. It was the quintessential question you asked of anyone in college when you met, but he’d never been interested in the answer before.
You babbled a bit about your specific area of study and your voice was surprisingly not as infuriating as he remembered it being before. It was softer, he thought, than when you were soapboxing in class about the sexist implications of old as fuck poetry—it had a less grating quality and was almost pleasing to the ear.
Or Tomura would have said that if he thought you deserved the compliment.
But, obviously you didn’t.
So he didn’t.
He just pretended to care about what you were saying and didn’t hang onto every word at all. Actually he was more enraptured in the way your lips moved when you talked. You used your hands a lot too, but his eyes were ensnared on the way your mouth quirked and dipped, at the occasional flash of your tongue between strong teeth. When he leaned in a bit, he could smell your breath too: fruity gum and the remnants of whatever you were always drinking in that loud as fuck cup. He wondered now what exactly it was, so he could buy it and get a better idea of what you mouth might taste—
Nope.
No, see this was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. How were you doing this to him? What a fucking slut.
Tomura steeled his nerves as you started explaining the extracurriculars you did on the side.
“My roommate freshman year actually started a gaming club and so I’ve gotten more into that over the years,” you explained, pointing at the stickers on your laptop case.
“Are you talking about The League?”
“Yeah, I didn’t know if you’d heard of it,” you shrugged.
He knew of the gaming club on campus. He’d thought about joining when he enrolled but the allure of anonymity online gaming provided was too strong. Plus his discord server didn’t have annoying weekly meetings.
The thought of you, up late and illuminated by the blue light of a tv screen, tucked away in one of the basement rooms in the media building was...strange. It also prompted an array of new images—you in those fucking cat ear headsets, seated in his lap as he trashed you in Mario Kart which was even stranger.
Tomura had to physically shake his head to dislodge the thought.
“Uh, we should probably work on this right?” he cringed at the way his voice cracked compared to your own, smooth tone.
You should narrate those fucking sleepy time mediation things. His roommate used to hide wireless speakers in his room and blast those when Tomura stayed up too late. It was annoying as shit then, but if it was you talking, he probably wouldn’t have minded so much.
Or no, no he would definitely mind.
Yes. It would have been worse if anything.
“Oh shit, you right. It’s been like two hours.”
He glanced down at his laptop and saw that it had, indeed, been two hours since he got there. He’d willingly spoken to you for two goddamn hours. It felt like no time had passed at all, but the sun was definitely setting, the overhead fluorescent bulbs taking over as the main light source in the room.
Weird.
So you settled back in your chair, typing away like you always did, but the sound wasn’t nearly as frustrating as before. Occasionally, you’d glance over his shoulder and ask questions about what he was working on, but mostly the two of you settled into a comfortable silence.
This pattern continued for the next few weeks. As the weather warmed, you began to show a bit more skin. He never worked up the nerve to comment on the thick expanse of bare thigh that tapered off nicely into your calf, or the curve of your arms not hidden behind knit sweaters—hell even your fucking shoulders were hard not to look at.
Maybe all those high school dress codes weren’t actually so full of shit after all. Cause he was definitely distracted by the way your neck swooped into the exposed skin of your shoulder and down your back on more than one occasion.
Did all girls know that? Was it some kind of massive conspiracy to crumble the patriarchy or some crap to go flashing bare shoulders everywhere?
Regardless if you really were trying to hypnotize him into liking you, Tomura stayed resolutely in his monochrome, long sleeved attire, and if you noticed the behavior you never said a word.
Never said a word about his allergy ridden skin, peeling lips or scarred throat. Never commented on his terrible posture or said his eyes were creepy. Even when he’d occasionally toss a negative remark your way, you never retaliated maliciously. Just brushed him off with a jovial ‘don’t be a dick’ and a playful, but hard slap to his chest or the back of his head.
The two of you always met in the same, secluded room on the third floor. You’d talk with him in class sometimes or shoot him texts about random bits of inspiration or a late night game memes, but for the most part, your conversations were confined to that room. He found he preferred the study room ‘you’ best. You weren’t as stiff. There was more of a solidity to you, like he’d seen when you told off that Kai bastard.
It...grew on him.
He was irrationally anxious that there would be a time when you couldn’t secure this particular room—with it’s big monitor and comfy chairs and less annoying ‘you’—but he’d been reassured after your third work session.
Someone had knocked softly at the thick, wooden door and a head of wild, bright pink hair peaked around the crack.
“Sup bro,” the intruder quipped, as they stepped fully into the room.
“Hey, Spinner,” you mumbled back, looking up momentarily from the essay portion of your presentation before going back to typing.
Spinner had seemed to notice him at that point and offered a small wave in his direction. “Oh hey, sorry, thought you were alone,” he said quickly.
“Nah, this is Tomura,” you said, glancing up again and jerking your thumb in his direction.
Tomura nodded and tugged at his hoodie strings to stop from scratching under the newcomer’s gaze. He’d gotten used to you, but other people still made him a bit nervous.
“Nice to meet you,” Spinner had a nice smile, bright and flashy when he spoke. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, looking around the room. “You got the nice one, huh. How’d you manage that?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you half closed your laptop and stretched a bit. “Jin was working the front desk, so I’ve just been bribing him with vending machine snacks.”
“He hasn’t gotten himself fired yet?” Spinner laughed incredulously, but not unkindly.
“Surprisingly not, but he’s completely corrupt now,” you were picking at the cuticle of your thumb and Tomura fixated on the way the skin split off at the nail. Just like his. “A couple packs of chips and a Monster and I get the most bitchin study room whenever I want.”
“Damn,” Spinner chuckled again and Tomura really wished that he’d leave already. He was beginning to feel himself fading into the upholstery as the conversation left him in the dust. The divergence of your attention away from him or the project was even more annoying that you were. “Well, are you coming to The League meeting tonight? We’re busting out a Smash tournament.”
“That’s tonight?” you asked, eyes perking up but sliding subtly in Tomura’s direction. “Sorry, I think Tomura and I are gonna be working on this project for a while longer and I’m kinda burnt out. But next time, yeah?”
Spinner rolled his eyes but nodded and kicked off the wall. “That’s not very sexy of you,” he chided and waved a hand in parting. “Gonna work yourself directly into the fucking grave.”
“Jokes on you, I welcome death.”
You buried yourself in the screen again and Tomura actually felt a bit grateful for you ending the conversation before he got too painfully awkward.
But Spinner stopped before he left, looking Tomura up and down from the frayed strings of his black hoodie to the tips of his worn red sneakers.
“Nice to meet you, man,” he said with a wide grin. “Feel free to tag along next time if you want, we always need more players.”
The door clicked softly shut behind him and Tomura relaxed back into the silence.
He did end up tagging along—though he spent most of the time hanging off your heels like a lost puppy—to the next meeting of your gaming club and the one after that. Frustratingly enough, he learned that your interests did also extend into skills as you almost bested him in a few rounds Smash. Your profile, lit only by the flashing screen lights, was even more striking outside of his imagined imitations.
So much so that it found its way into his head late at night when he was too tired to log onto his server. So much so that it had his cock growing firm and tenting his grey sweats without even the visual aid of his go to porn clips. So much so that sometimes, he felt inclined to do something about the throbbing between his legs. So much so that he thought about the way you picked the skin by your fingers. How it looked like his. How your hand might feel like his but softer. Smoother around the edges. With your sweet voice whispering in his ear, making him whine and pant and spill white ropes of release onto his stomach.
But it was only because you were hot.
And you were practically begging for him to jack off to the thought of you with those outfits and liking all the shit he liked and noticing when he shrunk away from conversations or including him in them when he started to feel that awful sense of fading into the background.
Yeah.
Everybody jerks it sometimes to their group project partners if their ass is nice enough.
Right?
#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tomura x reader#tomura x reader#shigaraki x reader#tomura shigaraki imagines#bnha fanfiction#college au#bee.writes
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Focus (on me)
Request (by anon): Congratulations on 400 followers! Can I get Oikawa with 34 from your prompt list? As fluffly as possibe and maybe lil suggestive please :)) THANK YOU!
A/N: Of course, and thank you sm for participating in the event! This was so much fun to write ngl since I’m in love with this dude, like I can’t even explain. I hope you like this!
Warnings: one curse word, is it suggestive? jelaous Oikawa beware / first time I wrote something this short, it’s 1.3k
Synopsis: Your boyfriend isn’t very happy about you spending so much time on a school project with this guy, and he is determined to get your attention somehow
( [F/N] stands for friend/name! )
You didn't know why your teachers were suddenly obsessed with making break-out rooms or group projects, but it was getting frustrating at this point.
You had at least two projects from almost every subject, and you never even found the idea amusing or rational. Group projects were time-consuming, annoying, and especially hard for socially anxious people.
You were at least glad that you were paired with someone you knew this time, unlike your past two experiences of being paired with people you only knew by name and nothing else. So it might've been true that you were a little more enthusiastic about working with [F/N] since you always liked him a bit more than you did others.
You both got along perfectly, had much in common, and you often found yourself bursting into laughter at something he said, laughing till your stomach ached.
Of course, none of this went missing from your boyfriend, Oikawa.
At first, he was also glad you finally got to do a project with someone you liked. He laughed when you laughed, watching you with a warm gaze as he sat in the corner of the room till you finished the project or said it was enough for the day so you could go cuddle watch a movie with your boyfriend after.
But then he noticed your meetings started to get longer and longer, well aware of how you often swayed from work and had a conversation instead. And when you weren't on a zoom meeting with him, Oikawa found you texting each other. Of course, it was nothing serious, harmless, friendly texts and memes (he had to admit the guy had taste... the memes were hilarious), and it was mostly about school or how you were doing. And even though knowing all that couldn't stop him from getting jealous, he couldn't simply go and tell you he was jealous, could he?
So he decided to solve this his way.
"Hey babe," Oikawa entered your room, his voice loud and the word 'babe' emphasized so the guy could hear clearly. "Oh, hey, Tooru." You answered back. You were sitting on your bed as you took notes to the notebook next to you. The guy was also doing the same on the other side of the screen.
Even though you didn't greet him back with 'babe' like he hoped you would, he was still grateful for the smile you offered him. "Are you still working on the project? The one about that book you read? What was its name again... Brother's something?"
"Brother's Karamazov." The guy corrected Oikawa, causing him to make a face as he wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Yeah, that." Oikawa muttered as he settled beside you on the bed.
"Tooru? Did something happen?" You couldn't help but finally ask when he stood quiet and watched you and your friend work, pouting or huffing whenever he talked.
"No? Does something needs to happen when I visit my girlfriend?" Your boyfriend protested (once again emphasizing the girlfriend part), taking your free hand between his larger ones as he played with your fingers. "Well, no, but I've never seen you so interested in my projects." You told him with a giggle, smiling softly when he started to draw hearts on your hand with his fingers.
"Well, maybe not your projects, but I'm interested in you." He muttered to you with that look that sent shivers down your spine. "Tooru!" You told him with widened eyes, your gaze flicking to your screen in embarrassment.
"What are you doing?" You hissed between your teeth when he leaned even more towards you, causing your friend to fake a cough in awkwardness. "I'm just showing what's mine." Your boyfriend growled back, only then making you realize what this sudden possessive behavior was.
"Tooru?" You snickered, not able to suppress your mischievous smile, "are you, perhaps, jelaous?"
"Do I look jealous?" He asked, but the angry look in his eyes had already answered for him. "I'm sure he got it." You whispered, "Just let us do the project, 'kay?"
Even though a pout formed on your boyfriend's lips to your answer, he still shook his head and retracted a bit further away from you, not, however, dropping your hand.
"Um, where were we again?" You asked embarrassedly, since, even though you acted like it didn't, your boyfriend had affected you a lot. "We were talking about (...)"
"Oh, yeah. So as an argument to that, we could say-" You hitched a breath in when you felt something soft and warm on the tip of your fingers, something that oddly reminded you of Tooru's lips. You sent a glance at him, only to meet with his dark brown eyes, looking at you sneakily despite the innocent smile on his lips your fingers were tracing, and knowing damn well what he was doing.
"What?" He asked innocently. "You should concentrate, baby."
You cleared your throat, "Y-yeah, um, as I said, we can argue about how in Dimitri's trial, Foyodor... Um, I- I mean-" You gritted your teeth at the soft lips tracing your fingers, leaving trails of kisses on your palm and wrist, climbing it's way up.
This was torture. Pure torture, how you didn't know where the next kiss was going to be, how slow and soft he was kissing you, how you needed to focus but couldn't, and that was exactly what Tooru wanted.
"Tooru!" You whined, turning your microphone off, when his lips climbed up your arm, getting closer and closer to your neck. "What? I'm not doing anything!" He protested. "And you should be focusing." He emphasized the word focus.
Yes, focus. Focus on me. Oikawa thought as he smiled slyly and kept climbing your arm with kisses that drew you mad.
"Hey, Y/N- are you okay? You sound a little... flustered. We can do this later, too." Your friend told you, of course, Oikawa purposefully stood out of the frame, so your friend only saw you.
"Yeah, Y/N, are you okay?" Oikawa asked, looking at you from underneath his lashes, his lips now almost on your shoulder.
"I'm- I'm okay, let's continue." You gritted your teeth as you turned your microphone on, hoping Oikawa would stop before he moved even further since if he even moved an inch, your friend would be able to see him and his mischievous smile, something Oikawa had wanted from the start.
You held your breath when Oikawa's lips traced your shoulder, making you shudder under his touch, his now a few shades darker eyes locked on your computer screen, at your friend who was watching him with widened eyes and a red face.
"I- um, this is probably not a right time, so maybe we should postpone..." your friend muttered, making the lips that were now on your neck thug upwards.
"I'm- you're right, I'm sorry about this- hey!" You warned your boyfriend when he bit the soft skin of your neck, but you heard him giggle in answer.
"I'm gonna get back at you for this, asshole." You told him just before his lips closed on yours and made you gasp under his touch. Eyes automatically closing and arms wrapping his neck as you pulled him closer, you had already forgotten your friend's presence, melting into the kiss. But Oikawa was more than aware of him watching you with widened eyes, and even though he loved to see the defeated look in his eyes, this cute, flustered face of yours was only for him to see.
So without breaking your lips apart, Oikawa averted his eyes to the screen, a snicker making him smile into the kiss as he clicked the red button, finally able to give you his full attention.
#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x you#oikawa imagine#oikawa tooru x reader#hq oikawa#oikawa fluff#oikawa x reader#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa x you#hq x reader#hq x y/n#hq x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x you#haikyuu x self insert#haikyuu x y/n
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A Day Off
Karasuno x F!Reader
(Not including the side characters sorry.)
Warnings: suggestive, fluff, language
A/N: This is part 4, and I still have so much in mind I- Well anyway, this is another long one.
It was just another regular, boring day in school. Doing projects and so much work. It was tiring to say the least.
It’s a Friday. The team is supposed to have a Saturday practice.
You’re in your last class, 8 minutes before the dismissal bell sounds. Everyone is chatting and on their phones.
You get a notification. “I wonder who it is” you think to yourself.
You decide to check it.
-1 Message from Captain ✨-
“Oh, it’s Daichi”
Captain ✨: Y/N, can you head to the gym early? You don’t have to, but I asked everyone to since I have an announcement.
Y/N: I’ll try. My teacher likes me so I’m sure she’ll let me go if I tell her why.
Captain ✨: Good! See you in a few :)
Y/N: See ya! 😊
-Captain ✨ and Y/N are offline-
As you thought, your teacher was more than happy to let you go a little early.
You head to the gym once again, curious as to what Daichi has to say. On your way, you spot Asahi, who was buying water from a vending machine.
Walking up next to him, you say, “Asahi! Do you wanna walk together?”
“AH- oh. It’s just you Y/N..sorry.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “But yeah, I’d love to.”
“Great! Let’s go see what Daichi wanted us for.”
Side by side you proceeded to walk to the gym, chatting along the way.
Opening the door, you notice everyone’s there. “Maybe it’s a practice match with another team later?”
The both of you head to the group.
“Okay! Now that everyone’s here I have an exciting announcement to tell you.” Daichi declared.
“What is it Captain?” Asahi questions.
“Coach told us we have a break day tomorrow! So, Suga and I decided to go to the beach in Tokyo.”
“YAY!!!” Hinata, Noya, and Tanaka exclaimed.
“Tch.” Tsukishima hissed.
“Sounds fun, but I can’t go.” Kiyoko smiled.
“Awww ok. But yay! Beach day!” You grinned.
After a while of discussing the plans for tomorrow, Daichi tells everyone to pack up clothing and everything else they needed.
~~TimeSkip~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
7:00 am
It’s the day of the trip. After a long night of deciding what to bring, you hop off your bed and put everything in a [insert favorite color] bag.
Then, you get ready— getting dressed, brushing your teeth.
You had put on an nice outfit. (Pick one of these ^ ^)
Walking over to the meeting point (the front of Karasuno), you put on some music in the headphones you were wearing, humming to the song.
As you approach, you hear two voices shouting.
“I GOT HERE FIRST!!”
“NO I DID BOKE!”
You identify the voices as Hinata and Kageyama.
“SHUT IT, BOTH OF YOU!” You hear Suga yell.
They see you approaching and immediately calm down. Then the automatically blush at how cute your outfit looks on you.
“THE PRINCESS HAS APPEARED!” Noya declares.
“Hey!” You sang.
They all say hello to you. Right after that, the bus arrives.
“Y/N, Can I sit next to you?” Suga asks.
“Sure! As long as I can sit next to the window!”
“Mhm! Let’s go.”
“HEY NO FAIRRR!” Hinata complains.
The rest of the boys glare at Sugawara. But he just looks back and smirks.
“Lucky bastard...” Tsukishima mutters.
Both you and Suga sit in the back of the bus together.
On the way, you and Suga watch memes on his phone (with headphones) and laugh at them.
~~~~~~~TimeSkip of a few hours (sorry-)~~~~~~~~~~
10 am
“Everyone get up, we’re here.” Daichi exclaims.
One by one, you all get off the bus.
“Where do we put our things?” You question.
“Oh, the coaches booked us rooms in a hotel. The problem is that it’s three per room with one having four, so we have to decide who goes where.” Suga points out.
“Oooh. Well why don’t we write our names down on paper and mix them?”
“Good idea! I have a notepad in my bag so we can use that.” Suga offers.
He takes it out and writes everyone’s names on small pieces of paper. Then, he puts it in a small empty pocket on the side of his bag.
“Y/N, why don’t you draw three to see who are the first roommates?” He asks.
“Ok.”
You pull out the pieces in sets of three. Daichi writes down each room and who is in it.
Here’s the groups:
(Yes I wrote them myself but I accidentally forgot Suga lol)
“YEA! I GET TANAKABRO!” Noya approved.
“Why do I have to get Saltyshima?!” Hinata murmurs.
“Oh god, this is gonna be chaotic..” Kageyama grumbles.
“Yay! I get Captain, Asahi, and Suga!” You squeal.
Daichi, Asahi, and Suga mentally congratulate themselves for getting this opportunity.
For a second, you thought it was funny that you get a room with the third years.
“Okay, now that it’s been settled, let’s go check in and set our things in our rooms.” Daichi ordered.
You all head to the hotel and check yourselves in.
“After we get settled, get changed into your swimming outfits and we will meet in the front of the building.” Suga advises.
Walking with the third years, you go into your room. After opening the door, you notice something.
“Uhh there’s only three beds.” You say, also noting they are queen sized.
“W-what?-“ Asahi stiffens.
“Coach didn’t tell us that-“ Suga defended himself.
“I guess two of us could lay next to each other.” You shrugged.
“I suppose.” Daichi sighs.
“Daichi I’ll lay with you since you’re the closest to me right now!”
“O-okay then, if you’re alright with it.”
“Dang..” Suga says under his breath.
Once talking it out, you decided to lay with Daichi. But since it’s a queen bed, you wouldn’t be that close so even though the other two were bothered by it, it wasn’t that bad.
—After putting your things down—
“Y/N, do you mind if Suga, Asahi and I go first? It’s so we can make sure everything is in order after we change.”
“Sure! I’ll remind everyone to bring sunscreen and stuff.”
One after the other, they get changed in swim trunks and a shirt and walk out to check on the others to see if they’re doing alright.
Then, you go and change into your swimming things.
Choose one below:
When you were done changing, you put on some clothes over it. (You would take it off when getting in the water.)
You get a text from the group chat saying they were all going to the front.
Smiling to yourself, you walk down to where they said to go.
~~~~TimeSkip to when you get to the beach~~~~~~~
12 pm.
“Ok! Go put down your stuff and you’re free to go!” Daichi affirmed.
“Yes!” Everyone replies.
Everyone goes off on their own, some immediately running for the water.
“Hey Suga, I’m gonna go to the bathroom to put on sunscreen since I forgot. I’ll be right back.” You mentioned.
“Be careful.” He tells you before going to the water.
You skip your way to the closest bathroom near the beach.
Grabbing your sunscreen, you put it on while making sure it’s in every right place. Then, you take off the clothes over your swim suit and put it in the small bag you were carrying.
“Heyy.. where’s Y/N?” Hinata asked Suga, upset that he doesn’t see you.
“She went to the restroom to put on sunscreen. She’ll be back in a second.”
“Dumbass forgot to put it on.” Tsukishima commented, with Yamaguchi snickering in the background.
“Language.” Daichi warns.
After finishing what you were doing, you happily walk back.
“Sorry I had to go for a sec guys!” You apologize.
“It’s alright Y/N-“ Asahi says, suddenly tensing up and becoming flushed.
“What’s wrong Asahi?” Noya questions loudly, then he looks where he was looking. “Oh.”
The rest look away from what they were doing, and look at Noya and Asahi before looking at you.
Just then, their faces become just as red. (Noya, Tanaka and Kageyama even have nosebleeds I-)
“Y-you look nice Y/N!” Yamaguchi spoke up.
Everyone nods.
“Thank you!” You grin while getting in the water as well, a faint blush on you since you’re around several shirtless men.
The day goes really well. Everyone, even Tsukishima, had fun.
3:30 pm.
Now that everyone has gotten tired, you all decided to go back to the hotel.
“I wanna go to a restaurant! My treat of course.” You gushed.
“You don’t have to-“ Suga tries to say, before you but him off.
“I insist! Come onnnn”
“Ok, sure. Let’s do it at around 5:45 pm.”
“YESSS,” Hinata and Noya exclaim.
When you get back, you watch TikToks on your phone and vibe until the time you go to eat.
After eating at the restaurant, they all thank you as they head back to their rooms.
Today was a great day.
Ahhh this took me forever sorry (￣∀￣)
I enjoyed writing this part though
#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!! x reader#suga x y/n#daichi x reader#haikyuu#hinata x reader#hq x reader#noya x reader#x reader#asahi x reader#karasuno x reader fluff#karasuno x reader#ahhh#fluff#tsukishima x y/n#yamaguchi x y/n#kageyama x reader
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empathy - cth
summary: a wedding date with best friend!calum leads to new discoveries.
anon requested: maybe a lil wedding date imagine with best friend calum to your cousin’s wedding or somethin 🥺🥺 and possibly the cheesy best friends to lovers trope!!
author’s notes: this one was fun to write, i haven’t done anything outside of the doves for a few weeks so it was a nice break! also, the origin story to the empathy hoodie, what more could you want?
masterlist || request
Calum was always down for a good time. That was one of the main reasons why you two had managed to become so close in your friendship. Whether it was spontaneous sleepovers with wine and crappy movies or going to the beach on a cloudy day to see if it would rain, Calum was always one text away. You were grateful for that, because moving to Los Angeles on your own had been such a scary and new adventure and you met Calum your first week there. It was almost like some magical force had blessed you with him because you two instantly clicked and you found yourself wanting to learn more about the guy with brown eyes who had spilled his oat milk next to you at the grocery store.
It was even more of a blessing now, when your mother had called you a few weeks before your cousin's wedding to inform you that you needed to bring a date to the big day. Normally, that wouldn't have been an issue, but since you'd recently broken up with your partner of a few months and dating in LA was just an obstacle course not ready to be dealt with. So when you texted Calum two weeks before the wedding begging him to accompany you as your date, you almost cried in relief when he asked when you'd need him to pick you up.
The drive to the northern part of California had been eventful. Calum had decided that leaving a day early would give you enough time to explore some of the small towns along the Pacific Coast Highway. That day was filled with karaoke while watching the ocean waves pass by the car, eating way too many french fries, and laughing over memes and tiktoks. It felt carefree, the anxiety over the fact your family was about to meet one of your best friends soon gone as the sunset lit up the sky with pinks and oranges. Calum had stopped at a motel with pink walls that seemed to blend into the sky, the car coming to a stop in front of the lobby as you sat waiting for him to come back with a key.
You were watching him from the glass doors, chuckling as he smiled at something the receptionist had told him. He was wearing his favorite hoodie, a green one that you'd embroidered for him one day while you were both spending the spring day together. He'd been having a hard time writing at home so he asked if it was okay to go over and try to find inspiration there. You'd been working on a present for your sister's birthday present, an embroidery of her dog, when Calum had shown up. He'd sat down next to you while you both quietly worked on your own projects, the warmth from his body making you lean into him without even realizing it. It wasn't long before you had convinced him to take off the plain green hoodie he was wearing and let you embroider something on it.
"What are you thinking of doing?" he asked you, a smile on his face as he watched you pull the fabric tight on the hoop.
"Empathy,' you nodded, "Reminds me of you."
The warm feeling that settled in your stomach that day was something you hadn't felt before when you had been around Calum. It felt like when you had laid in the sunny grass a few months back when Calum had promised to show you around the city for the best spots to find peace and quiet. It was warm and safe and everything you'd never had before.
"We should get some dinner," Calum mumbled as he got back into the car, taking you out of the warm memories, "I saw a few places down the street that looked promising, maybe we could check them out?"
"Yeah, of course." you mumbled and nodded, trying to forget the warmth in your chest.
The wedding ceremony had come and gone, vows and tears shed from both sides of the family. Calum had clapped and grinned down at you as the groom and bride walked down the aisle, squeezing the side of your waist as he led you out after everyone started to walk towards the reception. Meeting your family had been less eventful than you had imagined, everyone seeming to take to Calum almost as easily as you had. Your mother had proceeded to tell him how much she had appreciated that you had a friend in LA and your father had talked with him about the latest news to come out of the soccer world once Calum had informed him that he also tried to keep up with league news.
After dinner, which had mostly been your parents chatting with Calum while your sister snuck in teasing glances when Calum's hand found a place on your thigh. The warm feeling hadn't gone away since the day in the motel. The harder you tried to push it away, the more you noticed it. At dinner, whenever Calum's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but blush and lose track of whatever story you had been telling. During the ceremony, his hand had been in yours, the warmth of his body keeping you calm as you noticed the usually bounce of your nervous leg calmed down.
"Do you want dance?" Calum whispered in your ear at one point, everyone else who had been sitting at the table had left, leaving just the two of you alone. His hand was still on your thigh, squeezing the exposed skin gently as he raised an eyebrow at you.
"Y-yeah, dancing sounds fun." you whispered and cleared your throat as you stood up with him, leading him over to the dance floor.
Calum's arms were the best place on Earth, that's all you knew as you both danced the night away, your bodies pressing against one another as the songs slowed down and more and more people left. Your eyes met Calum, a smile adorning his face as he sang along to whatever song was playing, your mind was too busy trying not to blush as you leaned your forehead against his. A second passed between you two, both too afraid for things to change but both too eager to let anymore time pass, before your lips met one another. A sigh left Calum, making you eager to press your lips to him again when you felt the strong arms around your waist pull you closer.
The moon was still high in the sky when you both walked out of the ballroom, Calum's hand wrapped around your waist as you both made your way back up to the room somewhere on the fifth floor. Your head was laying on his shoulder, a shiver running through you as you stepped into the room and were met with a gust of chilly air. You slipped off your dress in the bathroom, letting the silky material pool at your feet, and changed into whatever pajamas you'd managed to grab from your bag before you had rushed into the bathroom to give yourself time to think about what had happened that night. Calum was sitting on the edge of bed, his curls a mess as he looked up at you. The green hoodie sat next to him, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth as you watched the gears in his brain turn.
"You seemed like you were cold, I thought you would want to wear it to sleep." Calum mumbled after a few seconds of silence, his fingers fiddling with the loose thread of his sweatpants.
You nodded, taking the hoodie and slipping it over yourself, Calum's scent engulfing you as the green hoodie brought the same warmth you'd been feeling for the past two days. Calum's hands found their place on your waist again, pulling you closer into his embrace, and it wasn't long before you were on his lap. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you both looked at one another, something unspoken passing between the two of you before your lips met and Calum leaned back onto the bed with you in his arms.
taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop
#calum hood blurbs#calum hood imagines#calum hood fics#calum hood x reader#5sos fics#5sos imagines#5sos blurbs#5sos x reader#gemma writes#calum hood#5sos#5 seconds of summer
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Magicam Live
Vil’s guest is a pest. Contains coarse language, people being catty bitches, and more telling than showing.
You want more, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag. If you liked it, let me know!
~*~*~*~
Transcript of Last Week's Magicam Live From *schoenheit_official
Vil: Hello my dearest fans! As promised, I will be showing off my newest capsule makeup collection, to be released this Monday exclusively at Feathersweep Cosmetics. However, due to high demand, instead of simply demonstrating on myself, I thought I would show that anyone could be half as beautiful as me with these!
[He holds a hand out to the side.]
V: Please welcome my fellow student at Night's Raven College, Yuu.
Yuu: Yo.
[A girl with short, dark hair and tired eyes sits down beside him. Spotty and plump, with a notable double chin. She's notably underdressed, compared to Vil.]
Y: I am she. I'm *donegotisekaid, if you haven't seen yet. Full of genuine memes from another universe, as well as me figuring this place out, and pictures of my not-cat.
V: She's simply been begging me for a makeover!
Y: He asked me if I'd do it, actually.
[Vil stops and takes a deep breath, clearly irritated.]
V: Yes, well. You've prepared?
Y: I scrubbed my face real good and managed to leave most of my pimples alone, if that's what you mean.
[Vil sighs]
V: As much as you're capable of, clearly. We'll start with the primer.
Y: [with a smile] Didn't you already give me one on how to act in this?
[Vil pinched the bridge of his nose, regret pouring from every cell in his body.]
V: Just lie back and be quiet until I'm done with you.
[Yuu looks at the camera, but says nothing. There's an audible snicker from behind the camera.]
[There are a few quiet minutes where Vil prepares her face, before selecting a foundation.]
V: So, is there a reason you don't wear makeup? You could look quite nice with it.
Y: Few reasons. It's a lot of effort, and I tire easily. I don't really like the feel of it on my face, and I tend to touch my face a lot anyways, so it doesn't last. It's a lot of money, and I break out very easily.
V: I can see that. Don't you use face wash?
Y: You should have seen me when I did use it! Much worse.
V: Ugh. I'll give you something later. And none of these have a good tone for you.
Y: Just pick the closest! I'll end up wrecking it by a few hours from now anyways.
[Vil rolled his eyes.]
V: Rook, any questions from the chat?
[A familiar accented voice from offscreen]
Rook: *stellargems wants to know how Yuu found herself at NRC.
Y: Transdimensional bullshit. I'm here until we figure out how I can get home. It's not bad, I don't miss it much.
V: Yuu even has her own dorm so she doesn't have to bother anyone.
Y: Not that it stops me.
V: [sotto voce] Don't we all know.
Y: If they kept you in a building with four usable rooms total and no electricity, you'd be out and about too. At least the ghosts there are really nice and help me out.
V: Do you kiss these ones too, or was that a one time thing?
Y: If I hadn't kissed her we'd be down a student and you and half the people I hang out with would be paralyzed, so don't make fun.
[Vil stops to regard the camera.]
V: To clarify, there was an incident with a ghost princess causing a lot of trouble at the school a few months ago. Yuu decided to kiss her to fix everything, because she's both stupid and deeply strange.
Y: It was really fun until I started dying.
V: All her blood was on the outside. It was disgusting.
Y: It did work though!
V: Keep telling yourself that, you didn't kiss the one you really wanted to.
[Yuu gives him the finger, and Vil shoves her hand down.]
R: *vilpleasefathermychildren asks-
[Yuu sputters with laughter. Vil just winks at the camera with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]
R: They want to know if there'll be a coupon code for the new release.
V: There will! It'll be released via the official fanclub email Sunday night.
Y: It'll be a whole three percent off and you have to pay to access it.
V: Stop that.
Y: [sweetly] No.
Rook: *getterbackback wants to know what your shirt says?
Y: Yeah, hold on.
[She stands and pulls the shirt out to be seen better. It says in large letters, I'M CUTE AND I BITE]
Y: You can do one yourself if you take a dark shirt, tape the parts you want covered, and scorch the area around it with diluted bleach. I've done a few of these, a few designs more than once.
V: Destroyed them?
Y: Nah, Lil wants at least one of every one I do.
V: [to the camera] That would be our fellow student Lilia Vanrouge, from Diasomnia.
Y: He's pretty great. He's *elderbatbrat if you want to look him up.
V: Sit back down so I can figure out which blush to use.
Y: Pinks and corals work best for my skin tone.
V: I thought you didn't wear makeup?
Y: Why do you think I know wearing it tires me out? It's not something I ever did a lot because of the effort.
Y: Except for highlighter. it's basically sparkles and it's light, so I like that.
V: You remember that, but not your proper name?
Y: Ain't life grand.
R: I'm getting several questions about that. Would you care to elabourate for the chat?
Y: Yeah. I don't remember a lot about where I'm from. Culturally? Lots. What I like? What I don't like? Everything. Names and places specific to who I was? No. And don't ask me to think about it too hard, I get the worst fucking headache and I stop seeing right.
V: You've never seen right in your life.
Y: Oh, fuck off, Vil.
[Vil stops blushing one cheek to point.]
V: Stop that.
[Yuu responds by biting at his finger with an audible click when her teeth meet, laughing hysterically as Vil pulls back in shock.]
V: !!! Dreadful little monster!
Y: Yeah, but you're the one who thought you'd get more views if I was here.
R: We indeed just surged another 20,000 views and counting! Excellent work, Yuu.
Y: Thank you, Rook.
[Vil looks ready to explode.]
Y: I won't bite again, that was just too easy. Please continue, I do want to see what magic you can do.
V: This is regular makeup.
Y: Metaphorically, you jackass.
R: *rosemassacre wants to know if you're always like this.
V: She's always this horrible.
Y: Vil first saw me and called me a dumpy little potato. I told him it's because I'm great all ways and everyone wants a taste, and slapped my ass at him. He's been obsessed with me ever since.
V: I am not obsessed with you.
R: You go into a rage over her at least once a week.
V: She can't go a week without being a pest.
Y: I went three after you kicked me out of the movie club.
V: You can't just project violence on the walls of Pomfiore because I said we weren't going to watch it!
Y: Vil, it was The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and it is art.
V: A man gets sawed in half in the first ten minutes.
Y: To an absolutely bangin' soundtrack. Oh that reminds me. Ad time, hold on.
[She wiggles a little before puting on her best customer service face.]
Y: If you want to access media that is quite literally from another world, please go to MonstroMedia dot com and sign up! There's ebooks, movies, tv, music, and more. Much of it is horror, sci-fi and fantasy, as it's from my person collection of media brought with me on my laptop and backup drives. You can use the code SHOENHEITSAYSWHAT for the first month free!
[She put her hand up and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone.]
Y: I completely understand piracy, but I'd appreciate if you paid because this is the only way I get spending money, and I can only bat my eyes at these boys so much before they expect something in return for gifts.
V: How'd Ashengrotto talk you into that one?
Y: He was going to make me start paying for all the food I eat if I didn't.
R: *waterwitchesbetgitches says, and I quote, "so like if ur the only gal at NRC how many boyfs you have"
Y: So many. At least twenty. Even more if there were girls here.
V: That is a gross exaggeration. She has maybe three, if we're being very generous on the definition.
Y: [points] And he's mad he's not one of them.
V: [squinting] You are absolutely dreadful and I can't understand how you're so popular.
Y: I like you too, Vil.
[Vil pauses, visibly taken aback.]
V: ... Thank you.
V: You know you're going to have paparazzi on your tail now, right?
Y: Aw, shit.
R: *insertmagicamhandlehere wants to know what's on your neck.
V: An antique chain with an attached charm specially made for me by Soleil Atelier.
R: I believe that was for Yuu.
[Yuu snickers, as Vil looks for himself. When her collar is pulled down, it fully reveals a vicious set of hickeys with visible toothmarks.]
V: Eww.
Y: You should see the other guy.
V: Eww!
[Vil takes a moment to recover, while Yuu laughs.]
Y: That could be a second part! Everyone needs that tutorial. "Bruise Coverup How-to by Vil Shoenheit: For when you just can't keep them off of you."
[Vil mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "nerds shouldn't be allowed to fuck"]
Y: Then where would your fans be?
V: At least there's only setting spray after this and then you can leave.
Y: Won't you get bored without me here?
R: One last question! *shroudstreaming has asked... well, there's a lengthy keysmash and an all-caps "why".
Y: Ah. Hi, babe!
Y: Hey, everyone go follow him, he's a total fucking babe and he refuses to take my word for it, no matter what I do to him-
[Vil sprays setting spray directly in her face, leading to Yuu coughing.]
V: No taste at all, and gross to boot.
Y: Asshole.
[Vil offers a mirror]
V: No. Miracle worker.
[Yuu looks... well, the same, but with an even, well made-up face.]
Y: ... Aww. You remembered I like sparkles.
V: Less likely to scrub it off if you actually like it.
[Yuu's admiring herself for a few moments in silence, with Vil watching, quite pleased.]
Y: Hey, can I do you next?
V: Absolutely not.
Y: Ask the chat.
V: No.
R: Chat says yes.
V: [With a visible eye roll] Ugh, fine.
Y: Aight. Take your shirt off.
V: What.
[Yuu brings up a case and flips it open. Inside is a magazine with a gory cover, and various things like fake blood and liquid latex.]
Y: Alright kiddies. You wanna learn how to slit a man's throat?
[Vil gets up and walks away without another word.]
Y: You said I could! Get back here!
[Yuu follows. Rook emerges from behind the camera.]
R: That's it for tonight, ma belles. Next time.
[Magicam Live ends, but not before audible yelling and scuffling, quickly cut off.]
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been a bit since 150 words meme and since I’m having a fuck of a time focusing and self-motivating still apparently...well, external help it is
send me up to three of the numbers below and I’ll write 150 words in the designated project
1. “You have a very dim view of the world,” Xiao Xingchen said.
“I’m right about it.”
“Hm,” Xiao Xingchen said, and then, “I suppose it doesn’t change anything that I saved your life.”
“That’s you,” Xue Yang said bluntly. “And if you’d known who I was right off, don’t pretend you wouldn’t’ve left me right there.”
Xiao Xingchen’s expression flickered, then steadied. “I did know,” he said. “I brought you here anyway.” (the backyard is full of bones)
2. He fumbled to get the door open and bolted. He didn’t stop until he was on the sidewalk outside, breathing in deep gulps of night air. His heart was pounding and there were weird shivers running up and down his spine, like chills from a fever.
He made it halfway home on the bus before his head started to clear, though even then he still felt shaky and strange, a little like he’d just been sick, or fainted. That was also when he realized that he’d left his coat on the floor of Xue Yang’s apartment. Xue Yang’s apartment, which he’d just run out of, like an idiot, after a blowjob and a handjob.
He put his face in his hands only to discover that his fingers still smelled like sex. (Redux)
3. His injuries were not minor. If Xiao Xingchen hadn’t found him when he had, within the day he probably would have died. He wasn’t at risk of that anymore, but the damage to his leg had cut through the muscle almost to the bone, the stab wound through his shoulder had only narrowly missed piercing anything life-threatening or crippling, and at least four of his ribs were broken from what, as far as Xiao Xingchen could tell, a truly brutal beating.
“Oh, yeah,” the stranger said casually, when he asked. “Pretty spectacular. You’d think I’d dishonored their mothers, or something, how hard they were going at it.”
He sounded almost amused. As though it was something funny.
(Xiao Xingchen didn’t find it entertaining at all. He knew that some people dealt with their pain by making light of it, but it still seemed wrong to be quite so cavalier about an attempt on your life.) (Bedrest)
4. “You killed the Chang Clan,” she said. Swallowed, and added, “all of them.” If she thought about that too much it made her feel sick and shivery, so she didn’t. It was cowardice, but it was a cowardice she allowed herself.
“Yeah,” Xue Yang said. “Everyone there, anyway, I guess one of them survived.” And now his voice was a little different, too. A little harder, a little colder. Still casual, though, as if he was indifferent to all that death.
“Why?”
It was like watching a door close behind his eyes, rendering them suddenly opaque. The curve of his mouth dropped out of a smile and then pulled back into one that was sharper, meaner.
“He asked that too,” Xue Yang said. “Your didi.”
Jiang Yanli didn’t think she needed to ask which. “He did?”
“Mmhm. Only one. Thought that was kind of funny that no one else was even a little curious.” He laughed, sharp like his smile, and Jiang Yanli felt a little as though she was swimming in a lake full of things with very sharp teeth. (this world is gonna break your heart)
5. He did end up having to listen to Xue Yang loudly and thoroughly working Xiao Xingchen over until close to midnight, and couldn’t decide if he was being teased or being punished.
“Hope we didn’t keep you up,” Xue Yang said the next morning, with a shark’s grin as Xiao Xingchen quickly tried to bury his face in his mug, and Song Lan decided it was almost certainly teased. (heel, stay)
6. Xue Yang cracked his neck to one side and paused, curling one hand around the pouch that held Xiao Xingchen, suddenly wondering if there was any chance that being around this much saturated resentment might be bad for him.
No. He should be well insulated where he was. Safe.
Shaking off the brief prickles of unease, Xue Yang moved on. The ground here had been cleared, sort of, but he didn’t have to look far to see the places where bones still lay barely covered by thin grass and brambles. (a symphony for the departed)
7. The evil thing was going to bring Xiao Xingchen back.
That was what he said, anyway. A-Qing knew it was something he could do, hypothetically. I’ve done it before, he said. I’ve raised plenty of corpses and one conscious one so there’s no reason I can’t do it again.
She should run. Xiao Xingchen had wanted her to. But Xiao Xingchen was gone and her only chance of getting him back, maybe, was the bastard himself. Xue Yang. (the people are gone and the place is empty)
8. Song Lan gestured at Xue Yang’s right shoulder. Xue Yang let out a bark of laughter. “Are you asking if I’m okay? That’s sweet.”
Song Lan felt his face twitch and controlled it before it turned into a scowl. He stared at Xue Yang, waiting, hoping that he would read it - correctly - as his expecting a response.
“I’m fine,” Xue Yang said, tone turning snappish. “I’ve taken worse than one angry fierce corpse throwing me around a little.”
Song Lan felt a strange twist of discomfort. For a split second it crept into his mind that Xue Yang was badly wounded and functionally his prisoner. He was still dangerous, even with their tentative truce Song Lan didn’t trust him.
But Xue Yang had just helped him, even if it was his fault Song Lan needed it in the first place. There is punishment, and there is cruelty.
What would Xingchen think to see you now?
The pang of guilt was gone even more swiftly than it had appeared, though it left a sour aftertaste. (Walking Far From Home)
9. He moved back to give Xiao Xingchen a little space - he’d probably wake up upset, after all, and Xue Yang didn’t want him to do anything he’d feel bad about later. Sat down at the table, folded his arms and rested his chin on them, settling in to wait. His eyes fixed on Xiao Xingchen’s chest moving up-down, up-down.
It’d been a near miss. He hadn’t expected Xiao Xingchen would pull something that stupid.
But it’d worked out okay. And everything would be fine now. (xxc survives and it isn’t fine)
10. “What’s your name?” he asked, a sudden shiver of fear running through him. “I don’t remember-”
“Yeah, that’d be because I never told you,” his friend’s voice said after a very brief pause.
“You didn’t?” Xiao Xingchen said. That seemed odd. Wouldn’t he have asked? He supposed if someone had been reluctant to tell him then he wouldn’t want to press - but if they were friends…
“It’d be great,” his friend said after a more lengthy pause, “if you told me that you were playing dumb about now.”
“I’m not,” Xiao Xingchen said immediately, though his stomach was sinking.
“Yeah,” his friend said. “I figured. Unfortunately. Fuck.” (xiao xingchen + concussion)
11. “I told you,” Lan Wangji said. “I would give you rest.”
“Enlightenment,” Wei Ying sneered, and laughed, high and cold. “It’s always the same story with you, isn’t it? ‘Come back to Gusu, Wei Ying. Let me play music for you, Wei Ying. Let me fix you.’”
The mockery stung him more than he expected. He had told himself that he’d be prepared for cruelty, but hearing it aloud in Wei Ying’s voice, however altered, however much he knew that angry ghosts were not the same as the people they had been in life–
It cut toward the heart of his own regrets. What he knew of his own shortcomings, meticulously catalogued over three years in an icy cave, and now spat back at him from the person he’d failed. (the fair and the brave and the good must die)
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I don't know if I've sent you an ask for this meme (the fun meta asks for writers), so here we go: 2, 3 and 4 please! (copied for your convenience:)
Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project
What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)
Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)
No I haven't had any asks from this meme just yet. Only just reblogged it. Very pleased to get this! Always fun to answer! So thank you very much :)
2)Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project
Hmm I suppose I like the big scenes, where there's some kind of revelation, the best. There's a lot of set-up sometimes to get there but then the pay-off when it all comes together can be great. I'm writing one of those scenes at the moment. James (Watson, from Sanctuary) is about to go off about the Warehouse's more dubious decisions especially re: HG and I feel bizarrely vindicated somehow (over empathising with the characters perhaps lol). But just yes, somebody needs to tell them.
I have other such scenes later in the fic, like when HG and Myka finally talk, I have pages and pages of notes about their feelings and it's going to be a real challenge to work it in naturally. Sometimes I think I should just make a meta post instead haha. The same really with Artie and MacPherson exploring more about why the Phoenix showed them different things and what that means re: why MacPherson made all the choices he did. I have so much thoughts about this, so many.
This fic also has such cool visuals. For a while when it was untitled I was calling it the Italy + Egypt Adventure, and I had such strong images in my head of the sand, of the sun, of the ocean spray, of the dusty old scrolls, and of the hidden caves and tombs. So I'm looking forward to writing it but at the same time I feel like I can't do it justice, like what's in my head is not going to translate well to the page :/
3) What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need?
I have to be honest I don't really have one. I have plot bunnies, and sure there are scenes in those that I really want to write (sometimes the scene that inspired the idea) but it's the second half of the question - the "can't be arsed to write the set-up" because no, I have written tens of thousands of words in the past just to have the pay-off for that one scene, and I'll write tens of thousands more to bring other scenes to life. I can always be bothered. Whether I ever get round to it (due to plot bunnies multiplying exponentially) is another story, but it's never because I can't be arsed.
4) Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)
You know what I'm going to share the sentence I just wrote because I'm cackling I love it so much.
“You remember, Nikola,” James began with feigned casualness. “HG spent time as a denizen of the bronze sector, that bastion of inhumanity the Warehouse dares to call mercy.”
It has everything. It's like I'm going to pretend to be polite but nope there's a big old dagger of spite in those words. The kind of in-draw, suck in breath through your teeth because did he really just say that? Yes he did and the gauntlet is thrown down.
Unfortunately it's like how do I follow a sentence like that? Claudia is wide-eyed and keeps looking at Artie, Pete is surprised and also waiting for Artie's reaction as like a cue for what to do/say. Myka though, oh Myka agrees, she feels vindicated actually that someone else has finally said it. Oh man I have such thoughts about Myka. I think I might need to switch to her POV soon, perhaps that'll help me move this scene along? I wrote a oneshot about Myka leaving the warehouse during my fanfic dry season and I have so many notes about her coming back and her motives and feelings. It's going to be a challenge to basically not just info dump my meta haha, but I will try.
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give it a chance ⤖ lee minho
❖ genre : college au; roommates au; friends to lovers au
❖ word count : 9,6k.
❖ warning : explicit language, slightly suggestive & mentions of alcohol
❖ summary : you convinced yourself to attend a party in order to prevent Lee Minho from doing stupid things; however it’s not so stupid anymore when your roommate said he needed to tell you something important.
❖ a/n : the continuation of what if we is dedicated to @chaninfused, so *clears throat* this is where I hereby declare that she deserves more than what the entire universe can possibly give her; oh hi furat, this is why I’ve been so cryptic all this time. I know this isn’t much but I want to thank you for tolerating me and letting me be mean to you even though we only started talking for a few months; you’re an incredibly great friend and an amazing writer, don’t ever forget that 🖤
one.
It’s been almost a week since Jisung last talked to Minho (albeit texts and FaceTime) and he wakes up to his best friend roaming around his crusty kitchen, struggling to find a bottle of honey. Seungmin’s mom has been constantly sending them thirty packets of rib soup per week. And Minho thinks the sight of Han Jisung slurping on nothing but distorted rice with pork ribs while stressing over his paper for seven days straight is more tragic than his non-existent love life.
“It’s like you’re trying to turn us into gym rats,” Hyunjin snickers lazily, flinging his bangs away from his face. “You even brought us Tupperwares, are you really expecting us not to order tacos impulsively on study nights?” He’s a little dubious about stuff like this because he can feel the actual horror of only eating chicken breast and string beans just by seeing Chan cooking them up.
Seungmin chucks a piece of lettuce towards his direction, “Don’t you have anything else to do other than complaining?” He knows that when Jisung and Hyunjin decide to order food on study nights, they’re gonna do anything but study.
“Uhm, I actually do,” he replies nonchalantly. “I’m going through Minho’s phone.”
Jisung takes a seat next to him by the counter, propping his head onto his hands, “What’s the point? There’s nothing but cat photos and cat memes...and also Y/N as his background.”
“That angle is hideous, by the way,” Hyunjin comments like the true photography geek he is, which is completely ignored by Minho because he’s too cranky to start a fight at ten in the morning. “But it’s kinda cute for you to do that, so I’m gonna turn a blind eye.”
Jisung asks out of the blue, “Who’s going to BamBam’s party this Sunday? Well, besides the other two-thirds of 3RACHA.”
“I have a midterm on Monday, dumbass,” Seungmin mumbles while washing his vegetables at the sink.
“And I’m sleeping over at Lix’s for a project,” Hyunjin informs him lamely, having no intention to attend another single frat party. At least not BamBam’s frat parties—that guy has the weirdest friends; a chick was so drunk that she thought Hyunjin was her boyfriend and almost tried to make out with him on the dance floor.
Jisung secretly hates going to parties without his friends- no, actually, he never goes to parties without people from his social circle because he dreads the whole introduction part that requires formalities and inevitable awkwardness. But it’s not like that with Minho, ten minutes into their very first conversation and he feels like he’s known him for years.
In short, he will die if Minho doesn’t come to the party. Chan can only chat with him for so long until his DJ duty occurs and Changbin’s probably gonna be too busy doing keg stands to care about his antisocial friend.
“Fine, I’ll go,” Minho gives in while chopping up the chicken breasts and this prompts Jisung to clap happily like a seal for the next twenty seconds as he skips over to the fridge to fetch a water bottle. “But we’re gonna need a ride, I’m not taking my motorbike for some crackhead to puke on it. Ask Chan later when you crash at his place.”
Jisung tosses his head back to take a peek at the clock hanging by the bookshelf, and it reads 10:07 AM. He really should be getting for his class at eleven because traffic sucks but he’s not feeling like sitting through two hours of Park ranting about marketing strategies. “Can’t Y/N just drive us? I don’t think she’d let anyone else take you home when you’re not sober,” he ponders, earning a nod of agreement from both of his roommates.
Just when Minho opens his mouth to brush it off, he stops himself to process the information again and holds back a ‘you’re right’ because he hates letting people know that they’re not wrong. He wouldn’t let anyone drive you home when you’re drunk either. “Her car’s with her dad right now,” he tries to sound casual when three pairs of curious eyes are glued onto his back. “I, uh, sorta had it run into a tree last week.”
“You what? How are you still alive?” Hyunjin’s jaw is on the floor and Seungmin accidentally dumps too much vinegar into his salad while Jisung’s choking on the iced cold water, coughing furiously after into the sleeve of his hoodie. Guess Chan’s gonna have to drive them both. After all, he can never say ‘no’ to J.One.
Minho murmurs, “A dude rear-ended me, fucking idiot.” He finishes marinating the chicken breasts and arranges them nicely onto a tray with aluminum foil on top, pushing it into the preheated oven. “And basically she’s never letting me touch her car again,” he sighs while staring into midair dreamily, flashbacking to last Friday when you immediately Ubered yourself all the way from campus to downtown after picking up his call. All he got was thirty seconds of affection; you made sure that he’s not hurt and the rest was just a monstrous tantrum. He ended up sleeping on the couch that night.
“My my, you two are just like an old married couple,” Hyunjin chuckles lightheartedly and shakes his head, scrolling through the series of texts in amusement, “What even is this? I swear your conversation consists of 60% ‘when are you going home?’, 40% ‘your lunch is here’ and 20% terrible cat memes.”
“We’re roommates,” Minho drags the word through gritted teeth, holding back all the murderous thoughts inside his head because he feels like Hyunjin’s just asking for a death wish. It’s too early for this.
Unexpectedly, Seungmin decides he’s in a pretty good mood today since he aced his OChem pop quiz yesterday; meaning, he’s gonna stick his nose into his friend’s business whenever there’s a chance. “Don’t you guys share a bed too?” he pretends to play dumb only to receive a kick in the shin from the older boy.
“We’re also broke,” Minho cranes his neck tiredly, washing the dirty knife under the tap. “Besides, the heater in the living room sucks.”
“You both even smell the same, it’s getting kinda creepy. Please don’t tell me you guys also share showers to have a light water bill,” Jisung makes a gagging noise and Minho thinks he’s already said too much. His grip on the knife tightens for a split second before letting it drop into the sink. He doesn’t trust himself with anything sharp the moment Hyunjin started this unwanted conversation. He also regrets stealing Changbin’s meal prep recipes to feed his trash friends.
Minho questions callously, “We just use the same shampoo and shower gel, what’s the big deal?” His hands go for the box of oatmeal that Felix left here last time in the cabinet full of random food. He doesn’t get why Seungmin would buy so much groceries like he’s in a pandemic knowing damn well that his idiotic roommates can’t cook for shit.
Hyunjin purses his lips, trying to prove his point, “Don’t you think that it’s weird? You don’t do those things with us.”
“Because none of you would fucking house me when I was on the verge of being homeless!”
“And why is she yelling at you through texts anyway? Bro, there’s like ten missed calls here with at least a hundred ‘where are you?’. Why is she terrorizing you this early in the morning?” Minho immediately snaps out of his semi-angry trance, chest heaving up and down.
“Oh shit,” he facepalms himself. “I promised to pick her up at ten from class, what time is it again?”
“You’re fifteen minutes late, my friend,” Jisung supplies unhelpfully. “It’ll take another ten to arrive at campus, without traffic that is. You’re so dead. D-E-A-D.” It feels weird to hear something correct coming out of Jisung’s mouth (twice in a row) and now Minho wishes he could just whack his friend unconscious on the floor with the new set of microphones that Chan gave him last year for Secret Santa.
“Oh, I left your rice sitting at ‘warm’, by the way,” Minho makes a grab for his biker jacket and helmet on the counter before fleeing out of the apartment with his sneakers half-way tucked in. It’s not even been thirty minutes since they’ve seen each other for the past week and Jisung’s already choked on water, not once, but twice because of Lee Minho. Sometimes he wonders if the universe is telling him that he needs new friends.
two.
“Your boyfriend is late.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss at Yeji while staring at Minho’s contact on your phone anxiously. There’s no reason for you to be; worst-case scenario, you can just take the 0325 home and lock him outside for the night so that he’ll have no choice but to endure Chan’s embarrassing sleeping habits. He wouldn’t even notice either way because he’d be too busy swearing in his sleep to be annoyed.
Yeji puts her hair up into a ponytail after stretching her limbs tiredly. She only has one class today and no choice but to stay on campus for her shift at the café before lunch break. Too bad Woojin can’t cover her today because of midterms. “I’m only speaking facts,” she tells you with a yawn and notices the slight pout on your face. “Hey, don’t be sad just because your stupid boyfriend can’t pick you up. I can call Chaeryeong if you need a ride here and there, she wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m not fucking sad!”
“Y/N, you look more depressed than Ryujin when she got a B+ in calc.” That’s irrelevant, Shin Ryujin already has a GPA booster after signing up for Kim’s stats class, one B+ won’t make it any less sparkly.
You only let out a prolonged sigh after checking your phone for the tenth time in the past half an hour. He isn’t picking up any of your calls, your messages probably can’t even reach him and now you’re sitting at M.I.A Cafe with a cup of plain water after standing outside at the front gate for so long like an idiot. An idiot, who’s hopelessly in love with her roommate- wait what?
Listen, you already know that this is going to happen. It’s awfully inevitable and it’s getting harder and harder as the days pass by because summer is almost here. Meaning, Minho’s gonna move out soon, according to the contract.
Are you sad about that?
Yeah, kinda.
The more you think about it the more you regret your decision that day to let him stay with you. Because now you don’t think you’d be able to sleep without him next to you, hogging the blanket all to himself; you get angsty when he’s not home even if he’s just at dance practice; you’re definitely getting way too used to sharing an earphone with him while you both are dreading your assignments silently at the kitchen counter. And now you’re getting nervous just because he’s thirty minutes late. He’s never late, not even to your Monday Movie Night where you both can pig out and binge-watch the Avatar: The Last Airbender series until you’re sick of it.
Maybe you’re relying on him too much. Hypothetically speaking, it’s not his fault for the damage of your car but you’re just making excuses to be with him. You even set him as your emergency contact. It’s kinda tedious to be your roommate, you realize. All of those things aren’t mandatory and he can simply mind his own business without having to feel obligated because of the ‘roommates’ label yet he’d still choose you, over everything else. Perhaps he’s dealing with his own first world problems and forgot to leave you a message this time.
Yeji inquires breezily, wiping a cup dry with a towel, “Also, are you going to BamBam’s party this weekend?”
“For me to carry your ass home after getting shitfaced and sit through another two-hour lecture from Lia? I’ll pass thank you very much.”
She indicates with a quirk of her perfectly dark brow, “What if I tell you that Minho’s gonna be there?” Now she sounds like she’s the one who’s crushing on Lee Minho and not you. Never knew that your friends can be this creepy but the more you learn… “Jisung just told me he found a plus one aka Mister Celebrity to attend that frat party with, you wouldn’t have the heart to let me be the loner right?” she pouts with her nose scrunched and it reminds you too much of Light Fury so you look away, knowing that you wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance if she kept this up.
“How is that my problem?” you merely roll your eyes, slightly annoyed. “And also, isn’t Jisung supposed to have his marketing class now?”
Yeji doesn’t give a damn about what on Earth Han Jisung is doing with his life so she just brushes your question off. “Would you let Minho drink irresponsibly?”
You nod without hesitation, though it feels wrong coming out of your mouth, “He can do whatever he wants...as long as my carpet remains clean after his hangover.”
“Would you let me drink irresponsibly?”
“The same goes for you,” you tell her monotonously. “And I only picked you up because Lia sounded like she was hyperventilating when you attended that one law brat’s birthday party. Na Jaemin, wasn’t it? Hate that guy, by the way.”
Yeji thinks it’s time for you to open up even more and not despise people that much. Having Lee Minho as your roommate is already a huge step-up but it’s not like there have been any modifications to your routine except the fact that another human being is simply enduring your bitchy ass of a loner. She wants you to be really out there, just not messing with shit like doing keg stands because Seo Changbin is a terrible influence. Woojin once had to drop his shift at the sushi place to drive Jeongin home because Changbin left him hanging on the beanbag chair for a game of beer pong. Jeongin has never gone to another single party since.
“You hate literally everyone!” Yeji’s getting impatient, you can feel it.
“Are you telling me it’s my fault that people are shitty?” you bark, massaging the sides of your temple tiredly. You wish you could just drop the entirety of your current presentation to Yeji because your brain cells are already evaporating one by one into thin air.
She barks back, merely sneering, “C’mon! Y/N, it’s not like you ever have plans for the weekend.”
“But I’m having midterms on Monday, I didn’t spend my time on those notes for nothing.”
She shakes her head at you almost in disapproval. Sure, you’re a coward for backing out on this because BamBam’s no stranger to you. That Thai kid has been hanging out with Chan since middle school and he always offers to buy you coffee whenever you happen to drop by as they’re working on a project together. He’s a nice guy, but you don’t know him that well. Something in your gut is telling you that he has weird friends (he totally does). And you’re not about to overdrink only to blurt out an awful confession to Minho while being surrounded by a bunch of crackheads that aren’t in your social sphere.
“I heard kids are vapi-” Yeji stops herself, thinking she should just give up, and get ready for the next batch of sleep-deprived customers coming in at lunch break before Jeongin chucks an avocado at her direction for chit-chatting too much about your gigantic crush on Minho. “Nevermind, it’s not like you’d care anyway, have fun with reviewing I guess.” And with that, she leaves you alone with the cup of plain water to dump the used coffee grounds in the trash.
It takes you at least ten seconds to comprehend what she just said. And you’ve come up with a new yet very last-minute decision: screw midterm because you’re making sure that Lee Minho’s going home in one piece.
Very timely, your phone buzzes on the wooden counter.
[10:38 AM]
lino | hey you still on campus?
three.
The blush scattered across your cheekbones just grows ten shades darker when you see Minho at the front gate leaning against his black Kawasaki; disheveled hair, hands stuffed inside his pockets, occasional puffs of smoke escaping his lips, and unbothered gaze. You’ve never told him this, you’re not telling him this now, and you’re never gonna tell him; but he looks stupidly good in that biker jacket. Again, you don’t get how someone can look this good early in the morning.
“What are you doing here?” you murmur grimly, approaching him from behind. It feels like he’s doing this to your heart on purpose, without even trying. And those girls over there are making you very uncomfortable by eyeing your roommate up and down like he’s an expensive piece of steak with a gold leaf sticking to it.
Minho turns sideways and flashes you a smile; your little heart just did a perfect cartwheel because of that, it can only take so much. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of time, but I still promised to pick you up, didn’t I?” he says casually as your face morphs into a deep frown because you’re basically confused. The only problem is: you don’t even know why you’re confused. There’s this fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and now you feel as though someone just gives you a blow to the head when Minho looks straight into your eyes, brows slightly knitted together.
This is not healthy.
“You didn’t answer my calls or my texts.”
Minho thinks you look cuter than usual when you’re silently fuming because you’re not the type to lash out on people. But it’s not so cute anymore when you threatened to flush his AirPods down the toilet that one time when he spilled ketchup on your carpet. He just hopes he doesn’t end up sleeping on the couch tonight like last time.
“I put my phone on silent, as always,” he reminds you of how much of a pain in the ass it is to receive a call-back or a simple reply from him.
You make a face, “Whatever, didn’t I tell you not to make a scene? Have you seen those chicks back there? They’re watching me as if I’m sabotaging their dreams of eating you alive.” Well, you can’t exactly blame your roommate for having girls gushing over him wherever he goes because...it’s his fault for looking like a snack all the time.
Minho quickly detects how you’re not overly fond of his admirers and needless to say, he’s fairly amused. “Then let them,” he puts an arm over your shoulders and pulls you flushed against him, ruffling your hair. Moments later, you’re already hearing scandalous gasps along with hushed whispers going through your eardrums like a never-ending train. It’s really setting your nerves on fire.
“Don’t you think that this is weird?”
“What?” Now it’s Minho who’s confused here.
You slightly push him away and avert your gaze elsewhere to avoid eye contact. “We’re roommates, right?” you mumble, slightly unsure about...all of this.
“Hmm, what about it?”
“Well, I don’t know…” you fiddle with the hem of your jacket and sigh. “What if people keep getting the wrong idea about us?” You sound somewhat regretful as if your decision of taking him in as your roommate was a mistake, as if you feel like it’s better off if he wasn’t in your life at all, as if the past month was completely meaningless. Since when did things become this complicated? It started with a harmless one-month contract and now Minho’s not sure of what he should do next. But that’s not it, is it? Maybe he’s just overthinking too much.
He looks hesitant for a moment there, very not-Lee-Minho of him. “We’re still cool right?” Minho tilts his head to the side, the afternoon sunlight slips through fluffs of white clouds and brings the constellations in his warm brown eyes to life. Though he looks like a scolded child, you can’t help but want to put this moment into a frame and simply cherish it for the rest of your life.
“Beats me,” you breathe out, silently hating yourself for not being able to get angry at him. It’s harder than you thought, really, and it doesn’t help when his eyes keep doing that thing to your poor little heart. “Make me pasta and we’re good,” you end up chuckling when Minho’s expression turns a solid three hundred and sixty at the offer.
“That’s not a very smart move for a business major, your loss,” he replies with a goofy smile, tossing the helmet that he got you yesterday in your direction. And if you pay attention enough, you can almost see Minho exhaling out of relief. But you’re too busy staring at the ground to douse yourself in your own giddiness to notice. “Oh crap, I think I left my wallet at Hyunjin’s,” he tells you after swinging a leg over on his shiny vehicle.
You narrow your eyes at him, “You don’t need your wallet to make me pasta now do you?”
“By the way, are you going to BamBam’s party?”
“Only if you’re going,” you scratch the bridge of your nose with your ring finger, a little embarrassed to admit that he’s the only reason why you’re ditching midterms.
Minho’s hearty laugh fills your eardrums, shit-eating grin and all. “If it makes you feel better, Chan’s driving us,” he voices without looking at you, but your chest still swells either way.
You fucking hate how you have the softest spot for him.
four.
You’re already regretting this although you’ve only been sitting in Chan’s back seats for less than twenty minutes. Crankiness takes over your body as a result of reviewing for the whole afternoon, your eyelids are getting droopy, and your head seems to be all too big for your neck at this rate. More reasons for you to not drink tonight.
“Ugh, why am I even here?” you groan, and Jisung scrunches his nose, slightly alarmed because you’re not usually this loud unless you’re high on caffeine.
Minho tells you in the most lighthearted way possible, “Because you love me.”
You wish you could just put his head through a wall because everything and anything coming out of his mouth are never healthy for your mind, or heart. “Uhm, no I don’t.”
“But you did confess your love to me,” he singsongs as if he just hit a jackpot with his lottery ticket, angling his head to toss you a wink. “I have receipts, ma’am. They’re right here, in my heart.” Minho’s never seen you so giddy before so he recorded everything, but he’s not planning on putting himself on a chopping block by telling you that.
You shove his arm and purse your lips, flaming cheeks but the car’s too dark for him to see it. “I was sick, asshole, I talk shit more when I have a fever than when I’m drunk,” you defend yourself helplessly, not enjoying the fact that he had to bring it up when you’re in a confined space with Seo Changbin and Han Jisung.
“Minho doesn’t like it when Y/N raises her voice.” Great, now he’s talking in third person.
“What are you even? Four?”
He winks at you, “Baby me, baby.”
“Oh my god shut the fuck up and get away from me!”
“You’ll never get rid of me, baby.” Eventually, you give up because you’re too mentally exhausted and there’s still a long night ahead of you. You’re not wasting your energy in pointless arguments with him because you both yell at each other on a daily basis anyway.
“Maybe he’ll zip it if you tell him that you love him,” Jisung suggests innocently with a not-so-innocent look on his face. He’s already acting dumb when he’s this fucking sober so you’re not looking forward to two hours later when vodka’s practically replaced his own blood.
“I’d rather chew off my own foot.” Changbin snorts involuntarily at your stiff remark, Chan mutters a small ‘ouch’ while Jisung’s too busy laughing his ass off. And a demeaning silence descends after that.
Minho’s right next to you, oddly unresponsive to the situation, his head leaning against your shoulder as he gazes dejectedly out the window. You don’t see how stormy his eyes are. He also misses his motorcycle tremendously because Chan’s the safest (slowest) driver to ever exist. No joke, if he keeps going at the pace of thirty miles per hour then you should just skip the party and watch a movie while getting drunk at his place altogether.
“Can you go any fucking slower?”
“Excuse me?” Chan laughs in disbelief, he’s a little offended because he personally thinks he’s a good driver, maybe a little bit too obedient when it comes to the law. Hey, at least you know you’re in good hands. “I’m not trying to get us all killed before BamBam could poison one of you guys.”
Jisung purses his lips as he’s reminded of the last party where he ran into that Thai dude. He gave him a plastic cup, telling him that it’s merely a harmless fruity vodka only for Jisung to get kicked out by an Uber driver after throwing up in the back seats. Turns out, the lemons and oranges in the cocktail were relatively spoilt.
“I’m gonna die from boredom before we could even get into a car accident,” Minho informs him unconstructively, staring at some random notifications from Instagram of people commenting on his cats’ photos, text messages from his mom and swipes them all away. Mostly to chuckle to himself like a moron because of his lock screen. Yes, your stupid face is still on there after three weeks and you don’t know if you should be crying or laughing.
Chan narrows his eyes at the rear-view mirror, “It seems like you’re entertaining yourself just fine by looking at Y/N’s face.”
“This photo does make me laugh because it’s priceless,” the younger boy states without turning his head to look at you. “But still, bored.”
The car grows silent again soon after because Chan’s already been stressed out enough from traffic since clearly, people can’t drive to save their own lives. But it’s not like your friends can keep their mouths shut for the rest of the trip anyway.
“Boreddd,” Minho voices randomly while a J.One’s song is blasting through the speaker. It’s a terribly soft song and it doesn’t help when Minho feels like he can downright sleep through an earthquake, potentially falling into an enormous crack on the Earth’s surface and still being able to nap like there’s no tomorrow. He’s just glad that Jisung grew out of ‘Wow’ and embraces his awkward self through his own music. It’s..sentimental but what’s a J.One song without that element?
Changbin looks up from his phone for half a second, wholly uninterested. “Then shut up and sleep,” he says expressionlessly. Very timely, his most recent track comes up next on the playlist and he starts rapping along with it. Minho thinks he can really use a good eye shut as SpearB is performing live right behind him because Changbin can only stay sober like this for so long until he gets his hands on one of BamBam’s sketchy-looking concoctions.
You’re starting to get bored too at this rate because usually, during times like this when the car is filled with nothing but music and everyone (except for the driver) feels like they’re falling into a food coma, a certain idiot will—
“Y/N, don’t you have a midterm on Monday?” Ah, there it is.
Jisung bends himself forward and drapes an arm over the leather seat, scrunching his nose at the sight of Minho sleeping soundly against your shoulder. He’s still bitter about the fact that Minho refuses to drive anyone other than you with his motorcycle for some reason. Exclusive things are always so annoying.
You exhale deeply because Jisung reminds you of that one kid who always asks questions that stress the hell out of the teachers back in high school. Would it kill for him to just shut up once in a while?
“I do, and I haven’t got a wink of sleep since yesterday afternoon,” you tell him rather lazily, shifting when Minho snuggles himself closer to you, his hair tickling your jawline. You pray he doesn’t know how fast your heart is beating. “A little alcohol might spare me a night of crying myself to sleep.”
Jisung lets his bottom lip stuck out like he’s a fucking five-year-old not allowed to get his favorite ice-cream flavor. “Aww, you should have asked Minho for cuddles then, pretty sure he’d be more than happy to—,” he remarks sarcastically and you wish you could just throw him in the middle of an intersection. He’s lucky because Minho’s a heavy sleeper or he would have been knocked senseless or something. The last thing Chan needs is being forced to pull over for having wild animals wrestle the shit out of each other in his vehicle.
“Hey, fuck off,” you snarl at him, knowing you should have chosen the passenger seat instead. That way, you wouldn’t be fuming inside because you can’t physically strangle Han Jisung to his imminent death. He has already tattooed that image into the back of your brain and you swear you’ve never heard a creepier chuckle from your friend.
Jisung notices the coral tint on your cheeks and sneers, leaning back against his seat. “Yeah right, as if you’re actually gonna get drunk,” he says snarkily. “You’re just gonna be there to prevent Lee Minho from making bad decisions.”
“I decided to come because Yeji wanted me-“
“Yeji who? In what world will you have time for her when you’re too busy staring at Minho like a total creep? Wanna bet ten bucks?”
That’s bullshit because Lee Minho is already your entire world.
Chan butts in, “Make that fifty.”
Changbin raises his hand, “I’d bet my Tesla.” Your friends really spelled out ‘a bunch of fucking clowns’ in bold, gigantic capital letters and you’re this close to facepalm yourself against Chan’s steering wheel. This is why you don’t go to parties with them that often because you’re stuck with cleanup duties with Seungmin until these crackheads grow out of their amateur drinking habits.
“You’re just jealous because he would rather call you an Uber than give you a lift himself,” you say pointedly and Jisung lets out the loudest, most scandalous gasp. So dramatic.
“You,” he jabs a finger at you, eyes wide in accusation. “Need a nap.”
You laugh dryly, ignoring the urge to snap a picture of his flabbergasted expression and turn it into a new meme for your group chat. “You don’t say, Han, you don’t say.”
And Changbin rolls his eyes over the moon, vividly picturing where this disastrous conversation is gonna go. Basically, he wants you to get shitfaced as soon as you step foot into BamBam’s house so he’ll have a sappy, drunk confession video to toss on Twitter tonight because Woojin just posted a picture of him with a drumstick dipped inside a glass of what looks like a watered-down Margarita. He’s highly concerned since there hasn’t been anything juicy on his feed other than his friends creeping people out with their questionable content.
“If you two don’t end up getting drunk and kiss, I’m gonna be pissed,” Changbin says casually as if it’s just an afterthought. This prompts you to chuck your phone in his direction—you can care less about your screen protector at this point if it means stopping him from taunting you further.
He asserts like a snake, “Hey, remember that time where you tripped over Kkami and totally crushed Minho under your weight?”
“I blame gravity for that.”
“But Albert Einstein said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love.”
“Who cares about Albert Einstein?!” you whisper-shout harshly, cautiously eyeing Minho’s sleeping figure. He scrunches his nose and murmurs something that you can’t quite hear before turning over to face you completely. His arms unexpectedly slip underneath yours like second nature. He furrows his eyebrows occasionally, other times he’d be grinning like an idiot and his lips are slightly agape, full eyelashes framing his eyes beautifully. Sometimes you wonder how weird his dreams are whenever you caught him talking (and cursing) in his slumber.
Changbin wants to pry aloud when you start staring at Minho for too long; he might as well be tossed on the freeway at this point before exasperation squeezes the little amount of oxygen left out of his chest. This is worse than Hyunjin’s terrible rom coms. He props his head onto his hand in boredom as Chan pulls over and turns off the engine. “Hey we’re here, why not wake your prince up with a kiss—”
“I’m gonna kick your ass,” you threaten.
Now there are two distasteful tattoos at the back of your head. And you will not hesitate for a heartbeat sacrificing the entirety of your bank account to get them removed. To get Lee Minho removed from your mind.
If only it were that easy.
“Mhmm,” the figure beside you lets out a low grunt and hugs your arm closer instinctively. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your denim jacket and sets your heart on fire. You’re ready to flick his forehead any second now to interrupt his slumber but before you could even do anything, Seo Changbin aggressively opens the door and you widen your eyes in horror. Where the fuck did he get a megaphone? And what for?
“Bitch wake up! Those drinks aren’t gonna finish themselves!”
It’d be a miracle if you ended up finding him alive by dawn.
five.
“Y/N you ass, give it back!
“No, we’ve only been here for three hours and this is your fifth cup already,” you tell her in a mildly serious tone before dumping her cup of whatever the fuck of a yellow substance that Ryujin gave her ten minutes ago into the sink.
Yeji plops herself onto the sofa in the living room after you drag her out of the kitchen where people are making out on the marble counter. Glad to see nothing’s changed...idiots. “God, you’re such a party pooper, I shouldn’t have told you to come,” she complains in between small hiccups, alcohol tinting her cheeks beet red.
“I’m here to save your ass and this is how you’re repaying me?” Your question didn’t come out as coherent and threatening as you imagined and every single cell inside your body is shaking for no specific reason.
Your friend narrows her eyes down into a mere glare like a detective in those crimes shows that you spend way too much time on and you’re debating whether you should be laughing or pissing yourself. She fucking knows that you’re lying. She fucking knows the sole reason for you to be here. “Give me a break, it’s not like you’re doing anything besides staring at your boyfriend from afar,” Yeji scoffs dejectedly.
“God forbids ‘Lee Minho’ and ‘my boyfriend’ go in the same sentence,” you grit, subconsciously averting your gaze around the living room to spot your roommate. All he’s been doing is being held back by Chan when he tried to murder Changbin once, catching up with his old friends from high school and hanging out with some of his classmates, ranting about how much he dreads Kim’s eight AM, gushing with Hyunjin over some senior’s choreography set. By the looks of it, Jisung must have handed him at least seven of those red party cups from the bar—thanks to BamBam who keeps restocking them every hour.
Yeji chuckles creepily when the alcohol finally hits her hard, you think you just got chills by the way that she’s leaning closer. “Of course not,” she hiccups into your ear, words slurred, “Lee Minho’s not my boyfriend, he’s your boyfriend.” You look at her in the eye, and mentally regret your life choices. How insufferable.
“I mean, seriously,” she slams her body back onto the couch and groans; you can’t tell if it’s out of frustration or the cushion is too soft for her back. “It’s like you’re living the life of the main protagonist in a Harry Styles fanfiction! Do you know how many girls and boys would kill to live in the same apartment as that?” Her index finger is pointed directly at the person you’ve been watching and avoiding all night, across the room with a dart in his hand as he stands in front of the dartboard.
“Were you aiming for the board or were you plotting to kill me? Because I can’t tell! I-can’t-fucking-tell!” Changbin shouts over the music and you momentarily cringe at the crack in his voice; it’s never a college party without one of your friends riling each other up over the dumbest things. And also, who thinks it’s a good idea to lend an unstable Lee Minho a sharp object of any kind?
You look away as heat flares through your nostrils when Minho accidentally glances at you after laughing at some corny joke that Chan made. He’s more than mildly hammered right now, you suppose, because, well, Chan can only make people laugh when they’re exceptionally drunk.
A stupid question then slips out of your lips. “With what?” It sounds like you only have one brain cell and are perpetually dumb. It makes you feel even dumber when there’s nothing but a can of Coke inside your body.
“A hottie who dances, cooks, has a good sense of humor, lowkey a genius, highkey a tsundere, shares a name with a famous actor. Far more handsome than the actor himself, if I dare.” Yeji has no hesitation whatsoever naming every reason as to why people on campus shamelessly throw themselves at your roommate on a daily basis. And now your head grows ten times fuzzier, floating mundanely in the clouds above. Basically, you feel like you’re drunk—except your confidence isn’t sky high enough to do something stupid—which makes no absolute sense.
The silver-haired girl next to you puts an arm around your neck and giggles, you’re highly perturbed that her vocal cords are gonna give in tomorrow when she convinces you through FaceTime that you should be extra careful with your notes since she won’t be showing up to class. “Oh! And he has three cats, right? Cat people are said to be more intuitive and thoughtful, that’s a bonus,” Yeji asserts and your jaw is on the floor at this rate. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance during lunch break and she already knows this much?
No wonder Minho never talked about his cats with Felix and Seungmin again.
“I bet you read that off a Buzzfeed article.”
“Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong!”
You inhale and exhale deeply, linking your fingers together, “Yeah, but that’s all people will ever see.”
“Well, what else can they like about him?”
“I don’t know,” you say bluntly, but the rouge on your cheeks is anything but ‘blunt’. “They don’t see how stuck-up he is, how he loves hogging the blanket all to himself, how he secretly stocks up a stash of trashy snacks. They don’t see the way his eyes sparkle when he looks into their eyes during a conversation because he’s actually a very attentive listener.”
Yeji pats your back without turning her head, slightly amused, “I think you meant how he looks into your eyes during a conversation.”
Your eyes scan the room one more time to find Minho hugging his stomach from laughing too much, there are actual tears in his eyes because Changbin just lost a bet and apparently he has to belly flop himself into the pool as a punishment. You haven’t seen him this happy in a while, even when he’s potentially dying from a really bad stomachache but it still puts your heart at ease knowing he’s having fun tonight.
Needless to say, he always knocks the breath right out of your lungs without much effort. Even when he’s ditched the leather jacket and ripped jeans, you still think no one looks better than him in a large t-shirt and sweatpants.
“But I don’t get it,” Yeji looks over at you this time, real carefully because your tone just grows firmer and more serious. “How can he just stand there, laugh...and look so beautiful?”
“I told you—”
“Yeah that’s exactly what I need to hear right now, Yeji,” you facepalm almost immediately, highly disappointed in yourself.
Jisung’s getting his ten dollars on Monday when you surprise him with two slices of cheesecake from his favorite dessert place. Changbin can keep his Tesla and Chan...Chan isn’t getting anything.
You push yourself off the blue velvet couch and groan, you’re getting sore quickly because the cushions are far too soft. “Let me get some fresh air, I feel like I’m gonna to lose my mind,” you tell your friend but you doubt that she caught it since the music is all too loud for students to communicate properly. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why fistfights during parties are a thing.
“Uhm, wait,” Yeji tugs onto your sleeve and jerks her head towards the direction of Minho. “I’m sorry but what the hell does your boyfriend want now?”
“Huh where—“
Like..three feet away. Or a whole lot closer.
“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” And you find Minho standing in front of you with his arms crossed stubbornly, eyebrows knitted together and tinted pink cheeks. He looks a little pissed off, and you don’t think you’re both on the same page here.
When you give him a ‘what do you mean’ look, your roommate feels the need to unlock his phone and jab his index finger against his poor crusty screen as he shows you at least fifty messages that he’s been spamming in the last half an hour. This reminds you of the yellow Post-It note that Minho violently smacked onto your fridge the very night when he first moved in.
‘I hereby fucking declare that if we did end up going to the same party (doubt btw), we would keep our phones with us 25/8 so one can save the other’s ass from stupid decisions— lee minho’ he wrote. Minho knows all too well the only ass that needs to be saved is his. And you’ve thought about taking the note down several times but you don’t think you’d have the heart to.
“Oh,” your head draws a blank canvas and you look for your phone in your pocket. But then, “I left my phone in Chan’s car.”
Minho rolls his eyes at you and decides that he’s too impatient to wait for Chan to sober up and remember where he left his keys. “Whatever,” he manages to crack a small smile, one that shines through the dimmed LED light on the ceiling and makes your heart stuck in your throat. “Let’s get out of here, I have something to tell you.”
“Hey hey hey,” Yeji tries to get up from the couch but her limbs are too wobbly. “You can’t just tap out all of a sudden and steal her from me like that. Don’t even think for a minute you second rate—”
“Yeah, no, she’s mine.”
You’re downright baffled. But you’re not sure if it’s because of what he said ten seconds ago and your heart is going haywire, your brain cells are giving in on you or it’s because he’s tugging you by the wrist and piloting you through the impending chaos of sloppy college students.
You’re not sure if you want to know. You’re not sure if you’re ready.
six.
Fall arrives sooner than you thought and it almost makes you miss summer. Though you didn’t really have anything exciting besides an internship that refrained you from living on YouTube for too long.
The evening is oddly cold, but you’ve never had a problem with the tips of your fingers growing chilly. It’s different tonight—it’s the kind of coldness that slips through your flesh and into your bones, coming in contact with the thumping force of your heart, causing it to shiver. There’s nothing to do but keep your gaze straight forward, your feet moving on their own with the one and only goal of heading home. Clouds with the murky color of wet ashes pass by, and the ground as its dank reflection—a reminder of how humanity is ruining the planet.
The streets are so quiet and tranquil; you’re afraid that Minho might be able to hear your heartbeat. Now you’re pointing a finger at society in accusation because it’s the weekend yet no elder couples are taking their night strolls, no middle-aged ladies in fluffy jackets are walking their spoiled teacups dogs and no wasted college students are roaming the streets with ‘trouble’ spelled out on their forehead. Really, you’d rather stare at people in a creepy way and zone out than constantly thinking about Lee Minho when he’s right beside you.
This is terribly suffocating and you don’t think if you can keep this up in the next thirty minutes until both of you get home and melt into the comfort of your bed.
“Sober up, Mister Celebrity, that’s too much fun for tonight.” Minho winces slightly when you press a can of cold green tea against his cheeks as he’s about to doze off on the wooden bench next to the vending machine. While he’s taking a swig, you feel a silent obligation to take a seat but your eyes are determinedly fixed on the curb.
The bench suddenly feels far too big and the night breeze is far too cold for Minho’s liking, so he shifts his body closer, fingers brushing over yours and sending electricity down your spine. “What do you mean?” he scoffs, finding it hard to not look at you so his gaze is temporarily glued onto the can of green tea in his palms. “Tonight was nothing compared to Jisung’s birthday.” He can still feel the remaining warmth from your hands, it makes him wonder how it’d feel to actually hold them.
“Ugh, god,” you shake your head in disbelief, internally cringing. “Don’t even remind me.”
You still don’t know what Hyunjin fed him that day to the point he couldn’t remember what happened. All hell broke loose Felix posted a video of him pretending to be a stupid ostrich and trying to do a mating dance towards Jisung on Twitter. No one dares to talk about that scarred video since. Now that he’s reminded you of it, you wish you didn’t own brain cells in the first place. This is why the internet is scary.
“What is it that you wanted to tell me anyway?”
Minho stops for a second at your question and places his beverage down on the bench. He stares distantly at the space ahead as if he’s fighting with himself inside his own head, seriously contemplating something. It’s come to your attention that this isn’t very like his usual self. Minho never hesitates for a second when he has something in mind. Even when he knows that you might rip his head off.
He exhales deeply, turns his head, and makes direct eye contact with you for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are as wide open and honest as a child’s, they possess something so much more the longer you stare at them. A warmth, safety. Your heart is gonna combust if he doesn’t get this over with soon.
Then, “I think I forgot to put yeast in the batter.” Wait what?
“Minho!” you punch his arm, earning a low grunt from the blond-haired boy. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!” He’s looking at you as though your eyes are turning red with rage and smoke is coming out of your ears, scared for his own life but truthfully, you’re just relieved. Surprisingly.
“Wait, so you’re not mad?” he asks you with a wide-eyed expression, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. “Aren’t we supposed to bring homemade bread for the get together at the nursing home tomorrow?”
“Old people still enjoy Bingo for some reason, they can have that instead of bread.” His mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he scoots closer to you and you can tell that he reeks off alcohol, which is making you a little dizzy. When your gaze falls elsewhere but Lee Minho, you attempt to appear casual, “But if you wanna bake so badly, I can still pull an all-nighter and start over with you.” That was doable, but you could have done better—should have sounded like you didn’t really care.
Minho flings his bangs away from his face and tosses his head back, chuckling breathlessly. “Don’t you have a midterm to stress over instead of me? I don’t want you to pick out every single strand of hair on your head after baking with me.” He finally said something nice once in a while, you sorta appreciate it. “It’d be embarrassing when my parents FaceTime me and see you as bald as my great grandfather.” Nevermind, he’s still the same old jerk.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you’ll be moving out in two weeks, either way, right?” Your tone sounds sad and grim all of a sudden; it really dampens the atmosphere because Minho is now looking at you with concern laced in his brown eyes. “Look, I get that it’s bothersome to be my roommate so there’s no need to feel bad. I’ll be fine going back to my old life where my feet don’t get cold in the middle of the night because no one would be there to hog the blanket anymore.”
Minho feels the need to clear things up here. “I never said anything about moving out,” he grabs you by the shoulders and hopes you could just look at him when he’s being serious for once. “Y/N, who even said anything about moving out? Was it the landlord?”
“No,“ you say, still not willing to face him directly. You’re such a coward.
“If so, why would I move out? Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off or something?”
You’re trying so hard not to snap at this point. “No!”
“Then why can’t you just fucking look at me?!”
“You’re still drunk, let me buy you another—“
Minho shakes you forcefully, hoping to knock some common sense into that brain of yours. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not drunk!” he cries helplessly, not caring about the fact that he’s waking up every cat possible in the neighborhood. “Just- just look at me, will you?”
You stubbornly keep your eyes anywhere but him. “Why would I look at your stupid face?”
“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You’re not usually like this.”
Every single cell inside your body quivers simultaneously when he says so—good god, no, he’s testing you. Minho knows something’s off. Now to think about it again, you’d rather let him dirty your carpet than being put on trial like this.
“You wanna know why I’m acting like this? It’s because of you! You’re making me nervous! It’s your fault for making me feel this way!”
“What?” he blurts, eyes blinking numerous times in disbelief. “What did I ever do to you?”
“God, Minho, you can’t possibly be this dense. Tell me, that you’ve never, not even once, seen me turning beet red when you simply look at me in the eye. Or when you’re just sitting there, laughing your ass off about something stupid. It makes my heart flutter, okay? You make my heart flutter. Do you know how much of an effect you can have on me? You don’t go around juggling with others’ feelings like that,” your voice grows smaller and smaller towards the end until there’s nothing but an oddly comfortable silene floating midair. A sense of relief washes over you; you unknowingly exhale.
Minho stares at you in awe for a moment there, until he also speaks up for himself. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he almost snickers, and this causes you to peel your gaze away from a random bush to gawk at his response. “You’re telling me to not go around juggling with others’ feelings? If anything, you’re the one who keeps messing with my heart. What am I supposed to do? Not get drunk so that I won’t be able to get away for doing dumb things?”
“What dumb things?”
“I don’t know, kiss you?”
“Fuck, you can’t get away with it this time now, can you?”
You’re already regretting this and there’s no turning back. Because when Minho subconsciously runs his tongue over his bottom lips, you’re already fighting the rouge spreading on your cheekbones. He shortens the distance between your heads until your lips are practically a breath away from his. Impatient, you grab a fistful of his shirt to smash your lips against his. Minho stays frozen for a nanosecond, taken aback by your boldness before pulling you closer by the waist. You’re hesitant at first, but he guides you through it, telling you that it’s okay by embracing you more tightly. Dear god, Minho’s kissing you and the world just falls away. It’s slow, comforting in ways that words can never be. He slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, smiling into it when giddiness bubbles up inside his stomach.
The world still feels like it’s spinning when he parts away, an alcoholic taste mixed with the green tea ghosts your lips, and your face grows ten times hotter. Even in this cracked darkness, Minho sees you blush hard and is fully aware that his cheeks are mirroring yours—he doesn’t even bother to convince himself that it’s from the alcohol, because it isn’t.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Minho questions though his breath is still a bit shaky from the kiss. He really didn’t lie when he said that he could never stop bothering you.
You can’t help but smile at him brightly; this causes his heartbeat to spike inside his chest. “Well, do I have to?” He shakes his head and stares down at your hands until he musters up every strand of courage left to finally intertwine them with his own. Fits like a glove.
“Come on, let’s go home,” he tells you softly, eyes crinkling into a pretty crescent moon shape. But you stop him right there when he attempts to stand up and wordlessly lean your forehead against his. Minho understands that you simply need a moment so you both hover right there, simply melting into each other’s touch. But what you say next just makes the ignited passion inside his heart flare-up. He’s at a loss for words, utterly speechless.
“I am home.”
“Welcome home then, Y/N,” Minho whispers.
Everything feels like a dream that you’d never want to wake up from. His hands are clasped on either side of your face, resting just below the lobes of your ears. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks so that you won’t drift away, your breaths mingling. Never before has your own name made your heart flutter. But you guess it’s only because Minho said it. You do know that it’s not an afterthought, nor out of impulse. It’s a promise, for whatever’s coming your way on this path, he’s never gonna leave you behind. And the moment he feels that thing beating inside his chest is in sync with yours, he slowly leans in again.
Albert Einstein once said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love. And you have every right to argue with him in the afterlife because you’ve confirmed that Minho is your gravity. Gravity keeps you grounded, always get a hold of you so that you won’t ever have to wander off too far away. It’s there for you but it doesn’t have to act like it cares. Minho’s kinda like that too—he picked you up every time you said you’re good walking home, he only stocked up the stash of candies to secretly feed your midnight cravings. They only differ so much where his heartbeat for you is loud, undaunted and he loves you fearlessly; nothing shall meddle with his feelings for you as long as the way your eyes light up when they meet his doesn’t change.
Before you met Minho, you didn’t know that it was possible to just look at someone and smile for no reason. The way his lips curl up when he smiles, his sarcastic remarks, his kindhearted nature though he’s awfully good at hiding it. That’s what people do when they’re in love, they say—to fawn over the littlest things but they’re what makes you fall so hard for him. But as time passes by, you’ve learned that it’s actually quite nice to be in love with someone. Because then, you get to spend your time and effort on their happiness as well, not just your own. In exchange, that person is capable of bringing colors to your dull world, tearing down your walls, and showing you just how beautiful life can be. Surely, Minho might not stay by your side forever in this crazy game of Monopoly but you’d risk it all for him even if the sky comes crashing and the universe turns upside down.
After all, you can’t love alone.
#stayshub#skzwritersclub#stray kids lee know#stray kids scenarios#lee know imagines#stray kids imagines#lee know scenarios#stray kids minho#minho roommate au#minho college au#lino fic#lee minho#lee know#college au#roommate au
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