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#OOPS should have posted it to here. whatever. this just was for fun

kosmicdream · 2 days

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im confident enough to post FFAK, which has anal prolapse, but i dont post the true drama....... my opinions about manga. *dramatic music* sometimes i kinda want to do some reviews.. its mostly me complaining.. it makes me sound so bitter like "do you like anything kosmic!" and..yes ! i do!!! okay!! i like a lot of things. once in a while, i dip my toes into a popular series to try to see if we are a good fit. Series like: Beastars, Dorohedoro, Dungeon meshi,ect.. and i kind. well. I dont like any of them LMAO. I mean, Ok, i actually really was into Beastars for a time, but after the fight with the bear guy (its been a few years sorry) and that story arc concluded.. it just spiraled to laughable levels and did not recover. I was genuinely laughing at it at times bc it kind of felt like a desperate scramble with the like. loopholes and power upgrades.. But I was invested for a time, it had a charm to me! I also loved the art and im curious about the authors next series about santa (partly because i too, am writing a story about santa). Dorohedoro has a great visual style, fun characters, i enjoyed reading but it also kinda didnt ...land for me beyond that, which is a shame. I feel like it is a series that "should" have clicked with me. And its like, not offensive to me but.. I'll forget that ive read the whole thing. I like STUFF in it. but thats not enough for me anymore. If i had read it when i was younger tho, it might have been a diff story. idk. My most unpopular opinion of all is that... I hated Dungeon Meshi.. Sure its ..pretty! cute designs. but i found it SO painfully boring and it actually was a struggle to finish. in the end, it felt like a waste of time.. SHOCKING take i know. That is the darling of everyones heart and i like, understand WHY its popular. .. but for me, i was not fed by anything. i am unfed and starved and going to eat elsewhere oh, and i.. as a person who has read a lot of fighting mangas.. I have tried to read chainsaw man, but i dont know if I can. I did finish Fire Punch. I'm surprised to say: i kinda liked it but it took a long time to force myself to read thru it. I honestly hated many aspects of Fujimoto's storytelling/character acting that i didn't think my opinion on it would change, but I'm a little more open to it now. I dont think i could ever super be into it or whatever, but i did find genuine enjoyment in aspects of fire punch. I did not really like look back. I haven't read his other one shot(s)? Where am i going with all this..I guess im giving some unrequested reviews after all...oops... a lot of this is spurred by how houseki no kuni is one of my most fav series, not only visually/characters/story/ect.. but i cant lie.... the ending... was kind of a flop for me... gorgeous and poetic ig sure but.. AUGH! it isnt what i wanted. maybe it'll be one of those "it'll grow on me" endings but thats mostly me having to go thru the 5 stages of personal grief and gaslight myself into it, but as the like actual honest first-reaction feeling it kinda lost me. I think it did not work when i felt the confrontation btwn phos/cinnabar wasn't the one i wanted to see. i will say tho, while im dissapointed, its not like a DEEP one or anything. I know its a miracle to even get to an ending.. i guess my take away feeling from it was like "everything fit together too well, too planned" but didnt feel planned, emotionally. I wasn't sold on it. Anyway, im here to speak my truth and my hot takes which, i honestly dont even want to have that one about HnK but its the real feeling i have for it.. Once again Utena's ending just has made all these other issues i have with various stories more obvious LOL

#the series i hate MOST is one piece #those who know me in my life #know this truth about me #i loathe that thing!!!!!!#i am a hater and i dont wish to be changed #oda does good color spreads tho

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starsstuddedsky · 9 months

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Persimmon Problems

jaemin x reader

summary: fantasy crushes are all fun and games until it stops being a fantasy and he’s really talking to you. but what are you supposed to do when he invades every part of your life?

genre: fluff, angst, university au, non idol au, he’s not a frat boy but he’s basically a frat boy, inaccurate depictions of student council, I don’t actually know what this is

warnings: swearing, drinking, implied sex (it’s pg-13), lmk if I missed any

wc: 18.3k (oops)

a/n: ahahaha remember that jaemin dream… yeah. anyways so I’ve looked at this for so long that I don’t even know what this is anymore, all I know is that I can’t keep working on it. also I still don't know what a persimmon tastes like so.. yeah. I really wanted to try one but if this stays in my drafts any longer I will go insane. I hope you all enjoy!!!! as always I'd love to hear what you think :)

You’ve never had persimmon before but you think maybe it’s the best word to describe Na Jaemin. He is a persimmon in your palm, an unknown flavor to be discovered if you dare to bite. It doesn’t help that he chose to wear orange today, the sweater a shade away from pink.

There’s a pinch at your side. “You’re staring again.”

You glare at Renjun, who doesn’t bother to look up from his laptop, working on the graphic for the student council. “Was not.”

“Whatever,” he says. “Just don’t let the pretty boy distract you from paying attention because I needed to finish this yesterday.”

“The only one distracting me is you, and you aren’t pretty.” You pretend his silence is agreement instead of him trying to force you to take notes as Professor Bae closes up the lecture.

It’s not that you can’t focus around Na Jaemin–your perfect notes at the end of class prove just the opposite. Jaemin simply exists in another world. There is your corner, mostly filled with student council responsibilities and never ending university work, and there is Na Jaemin, honorary member of every frat on campus. Not that you’ve been thinking that much about him, but his Instagram shows up in your recommended often enough for you to know that he goes to parties nearly every weekend. The sliver of overlap in the Venn diagram of your world and his only includes Microbiology on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 1 to 4, and that’s enough for you. To fantasize about him from here, a fruit you’ll never have the opportunity to try.

Jaemin starts to turn around and you quickly turn to Renjun, resisting the urge to peek at him out of the corner of your eye. You look at the shapes on Renjun’s computer instead.

“That looks like shit.”

“Trust the process,” he says.

“You spent the entire lecture working on this, you are aware we have a lab where you actually have to do things right?”

“You don’t think you can handle it on your own?”

“Stop trying to bait me into doing all the work.” You close your laptop, standing and stretching. You see Jaemin out of the corner of your eye, a blob of black hair shuffling down the aisle toward the door to the classroom. The orange-pink sweater is actually a cardigan, large cream colored buttons keeping it together. That’s when you realize you’re staring again. Shit.

“Are we eating before lab or do you seriously think you’ll finish that thing in the next thirty minutes?” You ask Renjun, who still hasn’t moved.

“You want to be president when you aren’t even pressuring me into posting the election announcements that were supposed to go out yesterday?”

“I want to eat something before we have to stare into microscopes, so what do you want?” You wonder if he’s focused enough to miss you grabbing his wallet out of his bag.

“Whatever you want is fine and if you use my card it will literally decline.” You curse and toss his wallet back into his backpack.

“Should have taken that class with Chenle, his card never declines.”

“That’s because it’s his parents’ black card.” He finally looks up from his laptop at you. “Are you getting the food or not?”

You open your mouth to say something extremely witty and/or smart, but your stomach rumbles. “I’m going to fire you when I’m president.”

“And who else will put up with your bullshit?” he calls as you walk down the aisle. You prepare a mature response (sticking your tongue out at him), walking backwards. Directly into someone—bouncing off their chest, more specifically.

Hands grab your shoulders before you can react, straightening you before you have a chance to fall. “Woah there.”

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” you say as you turn around and find Na Jaemin staring at you. Apologies spill out, even as he smiles at you, a true, knees-to-jelly, threat-to-sunshine smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says.

“Sorry,” you repeat. Your brain struggles to diversify its vocabulary with him looking at you, smiling with his eyes in full focus. His eyes are so dark it’s difficult to distinguish between his pupils and his irises. Staring, again, the third time in an hour. Why can’t you be normal around him?

“I was blocking your way out anyway, so it wasn’t all your fault.” He steps back, letting you out of the aisle. At least, giving you the space to do it, since your feet decide not to work. He tilts his head at you, sending your brain into a spiral of predictions, ranging from he’s going to ask you out (rather fantastical) to he’s going to tell you that you have something stuck between your teeth (horribly realistic).

Instead, he says, “You’re YN, right?”

“Yeah. How did you know that?”

His smile widens when you say yes. “Student council vice president, right?”

You don’t trust your voice so you nod.

“I’m Jaemin,” he says, extending his hand for a moment like he wants to shake hands but he pulls away at the last second. “Your picture is on the website.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, mouth going through the motions on its own since your brain’s whiteboard has been wiped completely clean. The only thing left is NA JAEMIN in giant bold letters, bright red marker and all.

“Yes, it is,” he says. Does he know the effect his smile has on people? Legally it could be considered a weapon. He pauses a moment longer, like he wants to say something else but instead he turns away, walking back to his seat, waving at half the class because of course he does.

You don’t have to turn around to feel Renjun staring at you. You don’t feel like hearing his judgy comments, even when they’re only passed on through his eyes. Whoever said eyes are the window to the soul was right—Renjun’s give you a clear view of the most judgmental person you have ever met. You leave the class without looking back.

Very few places nearby campus sell edible food, and even fewer are ever empty enough to be able to grab food and eat before the three hour lab starts. Today is even worse than normal, as if everyone has chosen to be hungry at the same time as you. You end up at a 7/11, grabbing Takis since they’re the only chips Renjun will eat. You grab an iced tea, tapping your finger in line as you wait. Getting the food was enough of a distraction to keep you from thinking about Jaemin but as you wait for the person in front of you try to get a discount using a coupon that expired three months ago, you go over every millisecond of the interaction–and god, you were so awkward. All you really did was apologize to him, you couldn’t even move. You have got to grow up, stop acting like a middle schooler with a crush.

The cashier finally gives up, giving the person a discount and waving them out. You set your food down and smile at her. She does her best to put a customer service smile back on her face, though you can see the exhaustion. You thank her as profusely as you can.

By the time you make it back to the lecture room, there’s barely five minutes left of break.

“Thank god, I’m starving,” Renjun says, grabbing the bag out of your hands. You keep your iced tea on the side farthest from him, glaring at him until he tilts the bag so that you can reach it too. “We are going to make Donghyuck cook tonight, I need real food.”

“Agreed,” you say, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t spew hot chip dust everywhere.

“And I took pictures of you embarrassing yourself in front of Jaemin, so please try to replace me as your social media correspondent.” He smiles at you over the purple bag.

“You’re horrible, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Music to my ears, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately, Renjun’s graphic does look good, though still not good enough to warrant how much time he spent on it. The messy shapes don’t look half as bad when they’re the right color, and all the information is listed (not in Comic Sans, though it’s only a matter of time before he tries to use it again. You have yet to find out if he actually likes the font or just wants to be annoying). He posts it an hour after the lab, which wasn’t half bad. Your percent error was under 50% for once.

It’s a Friday morning, no classes since your university actually listened to the student requests for a three day weekend, which the student council (you) takes full credit for. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you are responsibility free. Instead you sit in cheap plastic chairs rented from the events and planning committee and under a tent that’s in serious danger of blowing away.

You cling to your ball cap, NCIT STUDENT COUNCIL embroidered on the front. The papers in front of you whip around, the weights on top of them holding steady. At least it isn’t raining, though the thick clouds overhead get darker every minute.

Realistically, there’s no reason for you to be here. All the information about running for student council is posted online and with over 30,000 students, only a small portion of the student body actually care—none of whom are walking around campus at 11 in the morning on a Friday. You pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders. Just another fifteen minutes and then Jisung will relieve you. Mark should be the one freezing his ass off since he’s the one that insists on upholding tradition, but as president he takes advantage of avoiding work whenever he can.

Only two and a half months before that privilege is yours. Assuming you are elected, of course, but there’s no real danger in losing that. You’ve been a part of the council since freshman year, appointed as vice president as a sophomore. Few people have more qualifications, and fewer are actually interested in the position. Usually the competition comes from within the cabinet, but none of the rest of the guys have said anything about the running, though that might be because you haven’t shut up about the position since freshman year. Either way, the position is all but yours, and there is absolutely no reason you need to sit here when you could be studying for midterms.

A strong gust of wind blows from in front of you instead of behind and this time you are too slow. Your cap flies off your head, tumbling across the empty quad. You shuffle after it, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly over your shoulders, which helps protect you from the cold winds. Unfortunately, said cold winds don’t stop blowing, and your hat blows faster than you can shuffle. It reaches to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the squad by the time it finally stops.

Moving as fast as you can wrapped up one dry day away from mummification, you try to snatch the cap before it gets blown away again. You bend down to reach for it but a pair of sneakers appear in front of you and a mitten-clad hand grabs it before you can. You stand up and find Jaemin, wearing bright red earmuffs that have a green headband to make it look like a pair of cherries. He holds your hat out, smiling when he sees you (when he recognizes you?).

“What’s wrong? Hat got your tongue?” He waits, with an expectant smile. The boy next to him, wearing more layers than you, shakes his head. “Sorry,” Jaemin says, “bad joke, I know, but I couldn’t help it.”

Even the most lovesick part of you can’t defend him on that one. You take your hat from his outstretched hand, sticking it back on your head when you realize what your hair must look like after crossing the quad with all the wind.

“It’s Jaemin, from microbio,” he says, as if there’s actually a chance you don’t know him.

“Thanks, Jaemin from microbio.”

He flashes a smile that warms you better than any sun. “My pleasure, Vice President.”

“You can just call me YN,” you mumble.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You swear he winks, though maybe it’s the wind blowing in his eyes.

The boy next to him nudges Jaemin with his shoulder, keeping his hands tucked safely in the pockets of his jacket. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “This is Jeno, he’s–God, I guess he’s my best friend.” He glances at Jeno, unimpressed. “The position is temporary.”

“Thanks!” Jeno says brightly.

“Jeno, this is the vice president of the student council,” he says.

“YN,” you say, “I’d shake your hand but…” You show your hands, stuck keeping the blanket wrapped around you.

“It’s alright, I lost my gloves, so my hands are stuck here.” Jeno lifts his jacket with his hands in the pockets, just to prove his point.

“Hey, I didn’t get a handshake,” Jaemin says.

“Did you need a handshake?”

He tilts his head, showing off his jawline, not that you’re paying attention to that at all. It simply calls attention to itself, and who are you to ignore a jawline that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo (not the ninja turtle). He must be cold with so much skin exposed.

“I’ll settle for some advice,” Jaemin says. Right, maybe you shouldn’t be comparing his face to famous works of art mid-conversation (save it for the Instagram stalking like everyone else).

“Advice?”

“I was actually looking for you anyway.” Jaemin glances at Jeno before meeting your eyes again. “The student council election is open to anyone, right?”

“The presidency is open to seniors that are enrolled here, but yeah,” you say. “Why?”

He shrugs. “I’m going to apply.”

You blink at him. “For president? Of student council?”

“Yeah,” he says. Jeno shuffles beside him, stuffing his hands impossibly deeper into his pockets.

President… but that’s your position. If it wasn’t for the senior-only rule, you’d already be president. You rose through the ranks, suffered through a vice presidency with Mark to get here–it’s your position.

“Do I apply there?” He asks, pointing at the table you’re supposed to be sitting at.

“The application is online,” you find yourself saying, “you have to submit a resume and go through a qualifying process, and submit your proposals for campaign policies and a whole bunch of other stuff, it’s all on the application information.” You’re about halfway through your own application, though it’s mostly copying and pasting from the document you’ve been working on since you joined student council.

“You can scan the QR code on this blanket, it’ll take you to the application.” You hold it straight, cursing Renjun in your head for being so creative with marketing. You look like an idiot, waiting for him to scan your shoulder.

“Cool,” Jaemin says, pulling out his phone, but instead of scanning the code, he hands it to you, a new contact profile with your name already in it. You glance between the phone and the smiling boy. “Can I ask you if I have any questions?”

Jaemin is asking you for his phone number. To help with his campaign, against you. Your brain works in overdrive, trying to determine how you are supposed to feel. Your heart doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of the internal turmoil. You put your number into his phone and hand it back to him.

“Sure,” you say, even as your brain screams at you not to. “Whatever I can do to help.”

He grins and your brain fully malfunctions, gears popping, cartoon sparks flying. “Thank you, YN.”

“No problem,” you mumble, knowing that’s not true at all even without a functioning brain cell. You should have let him call you vice president when you had the chance–this is so much worse.

“I should go back,” you say, taking a step backward, a gamble considering your history of walking backwards around him. Trying not to linger in Jaemin’s presence is like a planet resisting the pull of gravity to the sun–no matter how hard you try, you can’t beat physics.

But maybe he isn’t the sun because when you take another step, Jaemin takes a step to follow you. Are there stars that revolve around planets? But Jaemin doesn’t revolve around you, he doesn’t even exist in your solar system. Maybe a black hole is a better metaphor, sucking you in from a galaxy over. You should stop making metaphors based on middle school astronomy.

You peer at Jaemin as he continues across the quad, walking leisurely beside you as you shuffle. Jeno trails behind slightly, risking the cold to pull out a phone.

“Are you following me?”

Jaemin looks at you over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows. “You think you’re that special already?” Before you can answer, he laughs. “But, yeah, I am. I can’t leave you all by yourself out here, anything could happen.”

“As opposed to by myself at the table?”

He shrugs. “There’s two chairs. I could sit with you.”

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, looking him up and down. He’s got a puffy jacket (bright red, probably to match with the earmuffs) and jeans. “You’d freeze in five minutes.”

“You could–”

“Are we going to Doyoung’s or not?” Jeno calls from behind you.

“Right,” Jaemin says, “I definitely did not forget about that.” He glances at you. “Rain check?”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for you to keep me company freezing my ass off,” you say, “but seriously, I wouldn’t let you stay anyway.” You reach the table, turning to face him.

Jaemin pouts. “Why not?”

“For starters, I don’t want to be responsible for the hypothermia you’re bound to catch,” you say, “and it’s a student council thing. You’re not a part of the student council.”

“Not yet.”

Right. The standard, crush-threatening-the-dream-you’ve-spent-three-years-working-toward-situation. “Also, no offense, but I barely know you.”

“Offense taken,” Jaemin says, holding a hand over his chest. “We’ve taken half a class together!”

“We’ve spoken twice if you count today!” You say. Does he really not get it? “At the very least it would be awkward.”

“I take full offense to the idea that I could ever be awkward,” Jaemin says. He folds his arms over his chest, eyeing you. “I’ll prove it to you.” Your gut twists, sending off the warning bells, but there’s no way Jaemin is actually flirting with you. He probably hates the idea that someone doesn’t immediately trust him with their heart and soul. He doesn’t need to know that you already do. That’s why there’s simply no way he’s flirting with you–it simply doesn’t make sense.

“Dude, we seriously need to go,” Jeno says. “Doyoung is spam texting.”

Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at you. “I’ll see you in class.”

“Bye Jaemin,” you say. You watch him walk away with Jeno, throwing his arm over his friend’s shoulders. He doesn’t look back at you.

What just happened?

Jisung approaches so quietly you jump when you turn around and he stands in front of you. “Was that Na Jaemin?”

“Yes–wait, how do you know him?”

Jisung avoids your eyes, turning to watch the pair of boys trudge away. “Renjun talks.”

You’re going to kill him. But first you need to defrost, so you hand the blanket over to Jisung and jump a few times to warm yourself up, trying in vain to make up for the loss.

“What was he doing here?” Jisung asks, wrapping himself so tightly his feet are bound together. One strong push would send him tumbling over, probably unable to get up. If only it was Renjun.

“He wants to be president.”

“Of student council?”

“Apparently.”

“Huh.” Jisung sits back. “Aren’t you supposed to be president?”

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Jisung stares at you.

“Have fun!” You say. The air without Jaemin is so much colder. Maybe your toes have frostbite. “It’s cold!”

Jisung grunts, huddling down and you don’t spare a second look at him. There’s a solid chance he’s texting Renjun already, since your best friend has decided to be a dirty gossip. You walk along the sidewalk and try to tell your heart that no matter how pretty his smile is, Na Jaemin is bad for you. Your heart reminds you that he saved your hat.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out, fully expecting to see a message from Renjun but instead a string of numbers show up. you better save my number :). You stare at your phone until it fades to black, which is why you know the exact moment it starts to snow. Though it’s March and the groundhog didn’t see its shadow, a snowflake falls on your phone, melting quickly. You walk home in the snow, thoughts of Jaemin piling up a snowbank that no plow can clear.

For breakfast on Tuesday morning, you have an untoasted bagel with a side of impending doom. You woke up with the feeling, a knot in your gut that usually only appears before exams or after you drink too much coffee, but today has chosen to warn you of unknown horrors yet to come. It has to be the dream you had, only you forgot it the moment you woke up.

[Bitch #1] You’re just trying to avoid jaemin.

You don’t know why you expected Renjun to support you. Unsurprisingly, he found out about Jaemin’s intent to run for president before you made it back to your apartment, and dedicated an hour to lecturing you over FaceTime, then spent the entire pregame on Saturday side eyeing you.

Jaemin’s message sits at the bottom of your recent texts. He hasn’t sent anything since Friday, though neither have you. You close your phone and try not to think about him, an impossible task. In the end you can’t think of a valid excuse, and go to your morning lecture. It’s one of your favorite classes (world history of medicinal developments 1200-1600) but today your mind drifts, still trying to figure out why today feels so off. Are you forgetting an assignment? You’ve checked the syllabus for all of your classes and the reminders your professors sent out but nothing has slipped past your the list on your planner. You check your outfit after class to see if you put something on backwards but you look fine. By the time you head toward microbio, you’ve resigned yourself to a day of inexplicable anxiety.

You should have trusted your gut.

You take one step into the room and the knot in your gut twists itself into a mess that spells out leave now while you still have the chance.

In your normal spot at the back of the classroom, sitting beside Renjun, sits Jaemin, grinning and waving at you like he’s been sitting there the entire semester.

You walk carefully down the aisle of desks, stopping in front of him. “You’re in my seat.”

Jaemin doesn’t seem to notice Renjun’s snort, opting to smile at you. “Hello YN, it’s nice to see you.”

“Hi Jaemin,” you say, “you’re in my seat.”

He rolls his eyes, sliding his backpack to the side and slipping into the next seat over. “I was just getting to know Renjun.”

You glare at your best friend, sitting beside him. “I’m sure he’s been lovely.” Renjun smiles innocently, turning back to photoshopping a graphic of the student council.

Jaemin pulls out his laptop, sitting leaning back into the chair. Is he planning on sitting here for the whole class?

“What are you doing?” You ask softly. Renjun continues to click around, not even pretending not to eavesdrop.

“I told you, I could never be awkward,” Jaemin says.

“Speak for yourself,” you mutter, shrinking in your seat. Does he really not notice the class staring at you? Okay, maybe staring is an exaggeration, and it’s not the whole class, but the people he normally sits with keep glancing back at you and whispering to each other.

Professor Bae walks in and they turn back to the front, saving you from (more) embarrassment. From the corner of your eye, you watch the boys at your sides—Renjun doesn’t bother to open the notes doc he shares with you, opting for continuing the edit, which you can’t really complain about because it’s the series of posts you asked him to make. Jaemin pulls up a cartoon series, Teen Titans, volume off with the subtitles on.

“Is this what you do every class?” You whisper.

Jaemin looks away from his fake typing for a moment. “She grades for attendance, not participation.”

“Are you even passing this class?”

Jaemin grins. “Sweetheart, I skew the curve.” Just to prove his point, he pauses the bickering superheroes and pulls up the grade review for the class. True to his word, his scores are well above average, rivaling your own. With the exception of Renjun, you haven’t met anyone who’s gotten similar grades.

Jaemin smiles, switching back to the show. He exudes confidence, and why wouldn’t he? Not only hot and popular, he’s smart too, smarter than you—it takes you hours of studying, exam cram sessions, paying attention in class—he doesn’t even hide that he isn’t paying attention, and from his reputation alone, you know he doesn’t spend as much time studying as you. Does he know what he’s getting into with student council? Even the laziest of presidents put in several hours of work a week.

Jaemin laughs at the show. Renjun finally glances at you, raising his eyebrows at Jaemin in a silent question. You shrug, mouthing, I don’t know either. He purses his lips and turns back to photoshop. You’re sure the second Jaemin steps away he’s going to be on your ass again.

Belatedly, you realize you’ve spent far too much of the class thinking about Jaemin. Professor Bae has already moved on from weekly announcements to new topics, meaning you have a date with YouTube review videos tonight. Thank god Professor Bae actually cares about her students and has recorded lectures. You just have to hope you didn’t miss one of the exam hints she only drops during class.

Jaemin and Renjun stay quiet for the rest of the class period, though it does little to help you actually focus. Between Jaemin existing next to you and the inevitability of Renjun’s judgment, it’s hard to stay focused on virus identification. You take half the notes you usually do.

But can you really blame it on them? It’s you that loses focus, you that is distracted by Jaemin beside you when he doesn’t actively try to pull your attention. He may have disrupted the balance of the universe by sitting beside you, but that doesn’t mean you have to fall off the scale.

Professor Bae announces the end of lecture a couple minutes early. You swear you see her raise her eyebrows at you and glance at Jaemin before disappearing into her office for the half hour break before lab. Is it too self-absorbed to wonder if she’s taking things the wrong way? But what is the wrong way? None of it makes any sense except that maybe Jaemin is too stubborn for his own good. Funny how a week ago he didn’t know your name and now you can say he’s ‘too’ something.

“So what do you normally do during break?” Jaemin asks. “Other than bounce off the chest of your roguishly handsome classmates.”

You roll your eyes to keep him from noticing how flustered his comment actually makes you. “Go over the prelab in case someone forgets to do it–”

“I always do it!” Renjun says.

“–but usually get snacks and do homework. Lately Renjun has been doing a lot of student council work during class, but that’s because he doesn’t know how to manage his time.”

“Says the one who asked me to design a scheduler for them.”

“Just because you’re good at Canva doesn’t mean you’re on top of your work.”

Renjun shakes his head. You can tease him all you want, at the end of the day, you know that it doesn’t really matter. The truth is, he just doesn’t need to study as much as you. Sort of like Jaemin, and absolutely nothing like you.

“What do you normally do during break?” You ask.

Jaemin purses his lips. “Well, my lab partner rarely does the prelab, so usually I let him look at mine.” From the row where Jaemin normally sits, a guy in a striped yellow polo glares back at you.

You glance between him and Jaemin, who turns away from his partner to look at you. “Should you go over there?”

“Probably.” He doesn’t make a move to get up, instead tilting his head and smiling at you a little. “You’re very interesting, YN.”

You cough, breaking eye contact to fiddle with the A key on your laptop which is in serious danger of falling off. “Well, your lab partner is probably going to try and inject you with a virus during lab if you don’t go over there.”

Jaemin laughs. “You’re probably right. I’ll talk to you later.” He stands up and glances at Renjun, who finally looks away from his laptop. Jaemin nods at him and flashes a smile at you, showing perfect rows of white teeth, and finally turns around, backpack half open in his hand.

You tear your eyes away from him, turning back to Renjun, who sits with his elbow on the armrest, chin in hand. He softens his eyes and looks up at you. “You’re very interesting, YN.”

“Shut up,” you say, pushing his elbow out from under him, though he doesn’t fall like you wish he would.

He shakes his head. “I do not like that guy.”

“Really?” You frown. “Why?”

“The fact that you’re even asking me that.” He sighs. “He’s just not my favorite type of guy.” He glares at you before you can tease him. “You seem to exclusively be attracted to shitty men, and then I become associated with them through proximity and it’s overall not a fun time for me.”

“Okay first of all, you barely know Jaemin,” you say, “and second of all, nothing’s ever going to happen with him.”

Renjun raises his eyebrows.

“Seriously,” you insist, “he’s literally Jaemin, and I’m… not his type. You can hate him all you want but don’t do it on my behalf.”

Renjun stares at you a little longer. He doesn’t believe you, and he’s probably right not to. But he turns back to his computer and doesn’t argue back.

“I didn’t do the pre lab, though,” Renjun says, “that was a lie.”

“I’m going to kill you and make it look like an accident.”

Jaemin doesn’t show up to class on Thursday. You stare at your phone, the single message in your conversation with him. Curiosity and something bitter boil together, making it impossible to think logically. He acts so friendly around you it would be easy to mistake him for a friend, but it’s not like you don’t have friends. You wouldn’t have a second thought about sending a text like this to Renjun or Donghyuck–but you’ve never felt butterflies when either of them looked at you.

So when your phone dies, you slip it into the pocket of your sweatshirt instead of trying to fight Mark for a charger (ever since “someone” stole one, he’s been overprotective of the cords). It’s movie night anyways, it’s not like you need your phone.

“Wait,” you say, “since when are we watching Endgame?”

“We literally just voted,” Donghyuck says, “You could have tied it for Lilo and Stitch but you weren’t paying attention.” He glares at you.

Mark throws an arm over your shoulders. “It’s all good, YN can just make the popcorn.”

“It’s hitting buttons on a microwave.”

“Oh, would you look at that, the movie’s starting!” Mark says, pushing you off the couch and towards the kitchen of his apartment. You glare at him, but the guys have made you watch Marvel movies enough times that you are glad for the excuse to escape any part of it. It’s bad enough you can hear it from the kitchen.

The shelves in Mark’s apartment are tall enough that he keeps a stool in the kitchen so that he can reach the highest of them. Of course that’s where he keeps his popcorn, so you jump as high as you can, snatching the box. Except you pull a little too hard and the box flies clean out of your hand, your feet slipping out from under you. You tumble to the ground, narrowly avoiding banging your head on the faux marble countertop.

A moment later, Donghyuck appears standing over you, box of popcorn in one hand. “You could have just used the stool.”

“That’s so much work.”

“And yet it keeps you off the floor.” He holds out his free hand and helps you stand. Your tailbone hurts a little but otherwise it seems you dodged major damage.

“You okay?” Chenle shouts.

“Fine,” you shout back. You wonder what the odds are that they’d let you bleed out to finish the movie—probably higher than what you want to calculate. At least Donghyuck is as anti-Endgame as you.

He sets the box on the counter, pulling the plastic off a bag and putting it in the microwave for five minutes. You would’ve just used the popcorn button but Donghyuck insists it tastes better this way. He turns around, leaning against the counter and studying you.

“So,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows. “‘So’ what?”

“So, Jaemin.” Donghyuck stares at you, eyes unreadable. He’s been like this ever since you met him—pulling people apart with his eyes and extracting the most important bits, all with a smile on his face. He knew Shotaro was going to drop out before Shotaro did.

“He’s…” A friend? A crush? The guy you wish would stay out of your life so you could keep daydreaming about him?

“He’s sort of famous,” Donghyuck says. “Or infamous, depending on who you ask.”

“And if I ask you?”

Donghyuck smiles like this is going according to his script. “He’s lots of fun to party with. I don’t know anyone that doesn’t like him.”

“But?” You jump when the first piece of popcorn pops.

Donghyuck pins you down with his eyes. “But he isn’t the boyfriend type. I mean, I’m not best friends with the guy, but it’s pretty obvious, and I talked to—”

“Stop.” You hold a hand up. “I know exactly what kind of guy he is, I’m not an idiot.”

“I’m not saying you’re an idiot, I just—”

“Donghyuck, I get it.” You stare back at him. “I really do, but I promise I know what I’m doing.” Okay, maybe that last part is a lie, but you know what you aren’t doing. You don’t expect a single thing from Na Jaemin.

“I heard he’s running for president.”

“Come on,” you say, “you think he can beat me?” Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. He won’t call you out on it, but he doesn’t have to. Your lie doesn’t even convince yourself. Jaemin has it all—grades, good looks, and, most importantly, popularity. Yes, he can beat you. Easily.

“Why are you helping him?”

“Jisung can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?”

“Renjun was actually the one that told me, but that’s not the point,” Donghyuck says.

“He hasn’t even asked for help,” you say, “and it’s not like I’m going to give up. I just…”

“You like him,” Donghyuck says. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to try to deny it but you won’t fight a battle that’s already lost. But you won’t admit it either.

“I know what I’m doing.”

Donghyuck chews on his lip for a moment. “Just be careful,” he says, “I do care about you. A little. Just a tiny bit. And from what I know, Jaemin is a good guy, but I don’t want you to get hurt because he isn’t what you want him to be.”

“Gross, stop acting like we’re friends,” you say.

“Never mind, I take it all back,” he says, “and I won’t be your vice president.”

“Too late.” You shrug. “You already signed a contract.”

“Fine, I’ll veto everything you propose.”

“You don’t have the power to do that.”

He tossed his hands up. “What is the point of being vice president?”

You beam at him. “Doing the shit I don’t want to do!”

Donghyuck opens his mouth to argue back but he pauses, sniffing at the air, and that’s when you realize the popcorn has long since stopped popping. Behind Donghyuck, smoke rises.

He curses, pressing the button to open the door only to take a wave of smoke straight in the face. At least the bag isn’t on fire. You laugh as he waved his hand in front of his face, coughing.

“Dude, what is that smell?” Mark shouts from the living room.

You spend half the movie bickering with Donghyuck while trying to get the sharp smoky scent out of Mark’s kitchen. By the time the Avengers have all the infinity stones again and are in the final battle, you are curled up on the floor with a blanket, the popcorn bowl confiscated by Chenle when he realized how much you and Donghyuck ate while making it (it sort of tastes like smoke anyways). Two Marvel movies later, Mark shakes you awake and sends you and the rest of the guys out.

You’re so tired by the time you get home, you plug your phone in and fall asleep. That’s why you don’t see the message until your alarm goes off the next morning.

[Na Jaemin] you busy?

For the past three weeks, you’ve tried meditation. Renjun swears by it, but you’ve seen him lose it over half a quesadilla, so it doesn’t exactly instill confidence in you. Still, you set aside ten minutes every morning to listen to the podcast he sent you. It’s meant to be calming, to connect you with yourself, and usually you do feel better, at least for a few minutes.

You peek at your phone, checking how much time in the lesson is left (3 and a half minutes). No new notifications.

Jaemin’s message gave you a heart attack when you woke up. He sent it at 8:12pm, probably right after your phone died. So seeing his message first thing in the morning woke you up pretty fast. You sent an apology that you definitely didn’t rewrite fifteen times, and now you wait.

But no, you’re meditating right now. Clearing your mind, not thinking about a single thing except the air that floods your lungs, letting your heart beat twice before releasing the air again. You peek your right eye open. No new notifications.

The narration ends and you sigh, laying back on your bed and checking your schedule for the day even though you’ve memorized it. In half an hour you need to be in the library to meet with your study group, then a council meeting, some space for lunch (which will undoubtedly end up crashed by Chenle or Donghyuck), then more homework in the afternoon. Tonight you’re supposed to go to a party thrown by one of Mark’s friends from grad school—depending on whether Renjun can find out if he’s a poli-sci major or not.

You jump when your calendar disappears and the incoming call screen pops up. You stare at Jaemin’s name for a couple seconds before your brain begins to function again, and you slide the button at the bottom of your phone to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“YN,” Jaemin says. His voice is a little deeper than normal, raspy like he just woke up. “I was starting to think you’d blocked me.”

“Sorry, my phone died last night and Mark doesn’t let anyone use his chargers.”

Jaemin laughs, the phone distorting the quality, sounding choppy and un-Jaemin. “Damn, does the student body know he treats his council like this?”

You laugh a little but can’t think of anything else to say. The silence stretches longer as Jaemin doesn’t speak either. The ceiling of your apartment has a constellation of holes, evidence of the former tenant’s antics. You have yet to figure out exactly what it could be—stabbing the ceiling with a broomstick? What does Jaemin’s ceiling look like? He’s so hard to pin down, like the more you get to know him the less he makes sense. He’s the type to have a messy room with clothes tossed everywhere and a bed that’s never made, yet he’s also the type to keep it neat, put up diagrams to match the college aesthetic of studying even if Jaemin himself is allergic to it.

“So,” Jaemin says, apparently realizing you aren’t going to say anything else. “I actually texted last night because I wanted to see you.”

You shove down the butterflies that spring up. “For what?”

“First of all, it’s cruel that you don’t think I’d want to see you just to see you. But also I was gonna ask to go over microbio together because I heard a rumor that Professor Bae talked about the final.”

“Don’t you have a lab partner?”

“Yeah, he’s who told me she talked about it. Unfortunately he’s worse at taking notes than me.” He pauses. “Besides, you’re much cuter.”

“Oh.” The butterflies breach containment, digging like madmen trying to escape your stomach.

“So are you free?”

Despite just checking your schedule, your mind goes blank. You frown, trying to remember what you’d just seen, and thank every deity that might exist that Jaemin can’t see your face right now.

“I’m free after the council meeting. How is 12:30?”

“Damn, council meetings on Fridays,” Jaemin says, “that works though. Meet you in the library?”

“We can use the council room on the third floor,” you say, “no one else will be there.”

“Okay,” Jaemin says, “see you soon, YN.”

“Bye, Jaemin.”

The butterflies have turned into zombies, rotting in your stomach and spoiling the leftover popcorn from last night. It’s just sharing notes. It’s just Jaemin. He’s just a boy from another world. The butterflies groan and demand chocolate.

Council meetings feel a little bit like the Magic School Bus series. The tagline plays in your head: A normal council meeting? With this group? No way!

Some of the blame can be directed towards having such an eclectic group of majors, Mark as the only true political science major. The rest of the group has been adamant about keeping the council safe from political science majors (how Mark doesn’t see the horrors of his classmates you truly don’t know). Another point towards Jaemin, being biochem and pre-med.

Though being a non-poli-sci major doesn’t mean he can handle the presidency. Mark can barely do that. Not that he’s a bad president. Though it sometimes feels like you do all the heavy lifting for him to take credit for, he does work hard. No, Mark’s problem isn’t his leadership—it’s that he doesn’t know when to give up.

The council meeting is long done but he continues to bicker with Donghyuck, who holds the entire student council hostage.

“It’s a proven fact,” Mark says. “How are you arguing with science?”

“Can science tell me what I feel?” Donghyuck folds his arms over his chest. His laptop has faded to black, the meeting notes long forgotten. “This isn’t about facts, it’s about my experience!”

You check your phone. The meeting has already gone over fifteen minutes. Any longer and Jaemin could walk in on a very not-empty room with Mark committing a crime against Donghyuck for saying that Froot Loops have individual flavors. Maybe it’s time to intervene.

“You’re just gaslighting yourself,” Mark says, “it’s not physically possible!”

“Well, you’re not physically possible!”

“That makes negative sense. I’m getting dumber listening to your attempts to argue.”

“Okay,” you say, standing up so quickly your chair falls back. “This isn’t council business anymore. All in favor of concluding the meeting?” According to the official rules, Mark is the only one that can conclude the meeting, but Jisung’s hand flies up, followed quickly by Renjun and Chenle.

“Cool, majority rule,” you say, ignoring the outrage on Mark’s face. Donghyuck pretends to be mad too, but he was only arguing with Mark to piss him off. He’ll probably follow the older boy around just to ruin his day. The two always have some fight going on—you’re convinced the reason Donghyuck agreed to be your vice president (if you win) is just because Mark would hate it.

Jisung leaves first, eager to escape from Donghyuck and Mark. Donghyuck pauses long enough to write a few more summarizing notes on the meeting but catches up to Mark before he can vanish, continuing to pester him about Froot Loops.

“Going home,” Renjun says, “we’re going out tonight, by the way. Turns out Taeyong is an econ major, and also a former frat president.”

“Huh,” Chenle says, “I can’t believe neither Donghyuck or me know him.”

Renjun shrugs. “I need to finish a couple projects since nothing will get done tomorrow.” He grins. “See you guys later.”

“Bye Renjun,” you say, tapping your phone screen to check the notifications.

[Na Jaemin] in the library [Na Jaemin] lost in the library [Na Jaemin] nvm found the stairs

[yn] need me to come find you?

[Na Jaemin] nah i don’t get lost (yes please)

“You’re texting with Jaemin?” Chenle breathes over your shoulder, making you drop your phone. Unfortunately it’s still open, your messages easy to read and Chenle doesn't hesitate to snatch it. At least the rest of the guys left, only Chenle is nosy enough to wonder who you’re texting.

“This is painful,” he announces. He hands the phone back to you. “You could at least add an emoji. Or, like, send more than one sad message.”

“Why?”

Chenle shakes his head. “You are texting the Jaemin, right? Na Jaemin?”

“Is there any other?”

“You’ve got a chance here,” Chenle continues, ignoring your question. “Not many people—well, I’ve actually heard he’s quite experienced but that’s beside the point, because you have a chance and that’s rare.”

“Genuinely, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You glance at the door, just in case Jaemin appears. Somehow you don’t think you want him overhearing this conversation.

“Okay, look,” Chenle says, “you’re you. Student council, 4.0 GPA, plans to be the next director of the WHO or whatever—”

“That’s not at all what I want.”

“—never a second you aren’t working, and then there’s Jaemin, and sure he’s a STEM major too, but the he’s type that strolls through life, who has things fall into his lap because he’s hot and lucky but you can’t really be mad about it because he’s Jaemin.” He pauses, like that explains everything. But you already know that Jaemin exists in a realm outside your own. Chenle waits a moment longer then shakes his head. “You know what, you’ll figure it out eventually.” He glances at you with a frown. “Maybe.”

“Good bye, Chenle,” you say pointedly.

He moves extra slow, closing his laptop only after spamming the save button. He once forgot to save a spreadsheet after a two hour budgeting session and you think he’s still traumatized. Still, spending a full thirty seconds hitting CTRL + S is excessive even for him—he’s stalling, trying to be as nosy as ever.

“I’m meeting him at the elevator so you can stop stalling,” you say. You hover over the send button, Chenle’s “advice” infecting your brain. You hit send before you can overthink it any more.

[yn] on the way now 👍

Chenle sighs, returning to peeking over your shoulder. “You’re hopeless.”

You grin and give him a thumbs up. “Thanks buddy. If you hurry you can run into him in the elevators.”

Chenle perks up, grabbing his still-open bag and sprinting out the door. You feel a little bad for lying to him, but he was the one that didn’t read Jaemin’s messages closely enough—evident from missing the fact that he’s on his way up the stairs and how Chenle thinks he might actually be flirting with you. You shake your head at the thought.

Just when you reach the doorway to the stairs and wonder if you should meet him in the stairwell, the door flies open. Despite climbing three flights of stairs, Jaemin breathes normally. A different backpack than usual is sling over his back, bright orange, like… well, an orange. (Persimmon, your brain unhelpfully supplies).

“Hi,” he says. “Sorry I’m late.” You wonder how anyone is immune to his smiles. A smile like that robs you of everything irreplaceable and leaves you missing it as soon as it’s gone.

“You’re not late,” you say, showing him the time on your phone as you walk to the council room. “Exactly on time.”

“Oh.” He glances at you, and when you turn your phone back to face you, you understand the awkwardness.

[Chenle] good luck 🤪🤪🤪

[Chenle] have fun with the hottie 🔥🔥🔥

[Chenle] but not too much fun 😼😼

You clear your throat, praying he didn’t get a chance to read all of the messages. “Chenle’s just making fun of my emoji use. Or lack of emoji use.”

Jaemin nods. “I hate to take the side of someone I’ve never met over you, but he might be right.”

“I use a perfectly respectable amount of emojis,” you say. “Besides, I’ve never seen you use any.”

“You’re just going to have to text me more to find out.”

You’ve never been so happy to see the doors to the council room. It’s nothing more than a glorified study room, with a rectangular table that stretches in the middle of the room, eight wooden seats set around it. A giant whiteboard stretches the majority of the back wall. The only truly special part of the room is the projector that hangs from the ceiling, with a screen that needs a button to come down. The walls that line the hallway are glass, along with the doors, so that anyone can see the council discussions, though tucked away in the back corner of the third floor, only the occasional passerby is subject to the bickering.

Jaemin raises his eyebrows and whistles. “This is nice.”

“Don’t lie,” you say. “The only nice thing about it is that we have full access to it whenever we want.” You point to the sign that reads Student Council Members Only. Truthfully, the six of you use it more as a private study room than for actual council work.

“It is nice,” Jaemin says, holding the door open for you. He pauses in front of the whiteboard. Chenle had been sitting closest to it, apparently spending the final thirty minutes of the meeting drawing out different game plans for the basketball club he somehow has time for.

“Chenle,” you explain, “he thinks he’s a part of the Golden State Warriors.”

“How much council work actually gets done in these meetings,” he says teasingly.

“You catch on fast,” you say. “It took me the full first year to realize how incompetent we are.”

“How come?”

“The president just wanted resume padding. He was incredible at sucking up to faculty and making the right people think he was a great leader, but he would send us fresh-terns to pick up condoms and sent Donghyuck with a fake to get drinks once.”

“Fresh-tern?”

“The freshman interns,” you explain, “since the president is the only elected position and the rest of the council is appointed, the only way to get known is through the ‘internship,’ which technically is open to anyone but only freshman are dumb enough to dedicate that much time to a job that does absolutely nothing—like, it doesn’t pay or even guarantee you a spot on the council in the future. It’s all based on whether the president likes you or not.

“Anyway, our president last year was marginally better, and he tried to abolish the seniors-only president rule but couldn’t get it to pass in time, so we ended up with Mark. Not that Mark is a bad president, though council meetings could be half as long if he wouldn’t go on tangents every two minutes.” You stop, realizing how much you’re talking. You’ve come dangerously close to telling him the truth about the presidency. Jaemin says nothing, probably bored. “Anyways, we’ve got a few new initiatives this year but mostly we try to maintain the annual events and keep Mark’s head on his shoulders until he graduates.”

“Sounds like fun,” Jaemin says.

“Sometimes.” You pause. “How’s your application going, by the way?”

He glances at you, smile fading a little. He turns back to the whiteboard, this time studying the fading drawing Renjun made a month ago of a goat fighting Donghyuck. “Still figuring things out. Mostly working on my campaign goals.”

You nod. A part of you wants to press further, learn more about his plans—but because you want to beat him or because it’s Jaemin? Why is it so difficult to think clearly around him?

You sit at the table and open your laptop, pulling out your notes. He sits beside you, scraping the chair against the tile floors until his knee is an inch away from yours. He must not notice the way your breath catches in your throat when he leans closer. A moment later and your brain is invaded by his scent, a clean smell like laundry detergent or body wash.

“It’s organized by subject,” you explain. “Usually I take notes in class and then Renjun reviews and organizes it with keywords and highlighting and this coding system that I don’t really get but he swears by. Either way it works for us.” You show him the keyword that Renjun uses to signify exam hints, combining it with the past class’s date to cross reference the relevant information.

Jaemin lets out a low whistle. “This is crazy.”

“Yeah,” you say, “Renjun puts a lot of time into it. But when we study for exams, it’s worth it.”

“You know Renjun from student council?” He asks, beginning to type a few notes.

“I guess that’s where I met him first,” you say. “But he’s pretty much my best friend. The whole student council is pretty close, way closer than the group Mark came into. He tells us horror stories about how they made the fresh-terms compete just to turn them against each other, though that’s back when it was filled with poli-sci majors.”

“None of you are poli-sci?”

“I’m public health,” you say, “and Mark is poli-sci, but the rest of the guys avoided it. We swore that the next council would be free of the plague of poli-sci majors.”

“You really hate them?”

“They deserve it,” you say. “But also it’s because I made the mistake of dating one last year.” You shudder at the memory.

“Really?” Jaemin looks away from his laptop, staring at you instead.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whine. “It was a moment of weakness and he confessed to me with cookies.”

“Not making fun,” Jaemin says. “Were the cookies at least homemade?”

“Well, yes.” You shake your head, trying to stop the next bit from coming out. But Jaemin raises his eyebrows and you can’t help it. “He had his ex make them, actually.”

“No!”

“Yeah, and then dumped me for them after, like, two weeks, and the guys are all convinced that he cheated on me with them,” you say. “So, no, I don’t really like poli-sci majors.”

“A good observation,” Jaemin says. His approval makes your cells glow—scientists could discover a new form of bioluminescence from within you.

Jaemin continues to stare at you, eyes full of warmth. It’s so easy to get lost in them, glancing between the pure dark chocolate and fond smile on his lips. The change in light when your laptop screen fades snaps you out of it.

You eye him. “Do you even need these?”

“Nope,” Jaemin says. He grins at you. “Just an excuse to see you.” He turns back to the laptop and continues to copy your notes into his document. You turn around, giving him no chance to see the smile that creeps onto your face. You seriously need to get a grip. Jaemin needs to get a grip and realize that he can’t flirt with you like this, not without completely upsetting the balance of the universe. But even as the world slides sideways, you smile.

“Nothing special.” That’s what Renjun said when you asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. But March 23rd falls on a Friday this year, and everything snowballed from there.

That’s how you find yourself wearing an outfit even the most lenient parents would dub inappropriate, wearing more body glitter than exists in the state of Utah, taking your fifth shot.

“Sixteen more to go,” Renjun says, patting your back. Why you promised to match him shot for shot, you aren’t quite sure. You had reasoning, at some point. Definitely before the shots.

At least you aren’t alone—Donghyuck curls his lip after his shot, lime slice snatched out of his hand by Mark before he can take it as a chaser. Mark laughs as he grimaces.

“What’s our motto?” Donghyuck shouts.

“Two and three to infinity!” Mark shouts.

“Nobody goes to the hospital!” You shout.

“To the grave!” Renjun shouts.

“Huh, I guess we should have coordinated that,” Donghyuck says. “I was thinking something more like ‘happy birthday Renjun.’”

“Shoulda said something,” you say. You take a step to the couch, the world tilting to the side, though maybe it’s actually you because you stumble into the wall. It holds you up until you make it to the couch, sighing as you reach solid ground. A couple people sit next to you, friends of friends of Renjun whose names you don’t know regardless of the alcohol.

“You’re YN, right?” The girl closer to you says, making you feel a little guilty for having no idea who they are. She beams when you nod. “I live in Apollo Hall, Karina is my RA, she says you aced biochem.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “Who do you have?”

“Professor Ahn,” she says.

“He’s good,” you say, “I had him for a different class and he talks off topic all the time but if you visit him in his office hours once, he’ll remember and be more lenient on the research report. I can send you my notes, too, if you want.”

She smiles even wider. “Really?”

You nod, your brain sliding around your skull with the movement—not a good sign, only five shots into the challenge.

The music changes, a Britney Spears song that Donghyuck must have slipped into the rotation. The girl’s friend drags her up to dance before you get the chance to ask for her name.

Dancing sounds like so much fun, until you stand up and realize that you’ve been hydrated too well. Your bladder announces its need for attention much like the maintenance worker that fixed the leak in your shower—loud and last minute.

You push your way through the people crowded at the edge of the room, making your way to the hallway where the bedrooms and, more importantly, bathroom are. You pass by a semi-familiar face flirting with a girl from Renjun’s study group, but your bladder gives no time for your brain to make connections of recognition, let alone time to wave.

Finally, you break the crowd, ignoring the couple making out concerningly close to Donghyuck’s bedroom door (something you like to call “not my problem”). All your focus is on the door to the bathroom, a piece of lined notebook paper taped on with RESTROOM scribbled in marker. Just as you reach for the handle, the door swings inwards.

You might have caught yourself, two or three shots ago. Instead you tumble forward, the floor coming to meet you fast. And then you aren’t.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Jaemin says, laughing. He caught you by the elbows, your face pressed into his chest. He helps you straighten up, though he doesn’t let go of your arms.

“Jaemin.” You grin at him.

He tilts his head. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re pretty,” you say. Jaemin tilts his head and smiles at you. Endearing. Endearing, that Jaemin has an amused expression on his face. Like he is endeared by you. How funny.

But he really is pretty. He must be hot in the leather jacket, loose over his broad shoulders. Yes, those broad shoulders. He’s hot too. But first, he’s pretty. His black hair falls just above his eyes, loosely split down the middle, framing the perfect angles of his face–the perfect line of his nose, gentle curve of his cheekbones, that jawline–and of course those lips. Perfect lips.

Jaemin leans closer. “You’re prettier.”

You burst into laughter, stopping only when you snort. “You almost sound serious.”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything else, still smiling at you, only a couple inches of space between you. Ignoring those lips this close is impossible. They’re the prettiest shade of pink, and he must have put on lip balm–or maybe it’s the lighting–because they glow. What do they feel like? They have to be soft—you’d bet everything in your pocket (if these pants had pockets) he tastes sweet. Like a fruit, a yummy, juicy fruit, dripping with juice, which reminds you—pee.

You push past Jaemin, into the bathroom. “Need to pee.”

He catches his hand on the door before you can close it, frowning a little. “You’re not going to slip and crack your head open?”

“Nope,” you say. “Really need to pee.” He lets go of the door and you slam it shut, using one hand on the counter to steady yourself while you fumble with the lock. After an eternity, you finally get to the toilet, which, despite the number of people crowded in a house of two college guys, isn’t totally disgusting.

Two minutes, an empty bladder, and clean hands later, you push the door open. Your balance has improved just enough for you to feel confident in your ability not to die on the dance floor—and with perfect timing because Break Your Heart by Taio Cruz just started playing. You find Donghyuck in the middle of the room and join him, grinning when he cheers.

Renjun appears halfway through the next song, shots in hand. More of the tequila ends up on the ground than in your stomach by the time you knock it back but Renjun shouts, “Six!” anyways.

Another 2000s hit plays (it’s definitely Chenle’s playlist, which reminds you that you haven’t seen him in a while) and you get Renjun to stay on the dance floor for the full song. It’s hot and sweaty and you wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world.

Donghyuck cheers again, hyping up the people that join your little circle. You turn to see Jeno, wearing a piece of fabric that technically could be called a shirt though it really looks like a hole for his head that’s completely open at the sides except for the ties at the bottom. Beside him, and right next to you, Jaemin grins at you. He throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you against his side.

“And I was like baby, baby, baby, oh!” You shout along with the song, vaguely aware of the rest of the guys singing along—except for Jaemin, who waits for Ludacris’s verse to come in to rap it word for word.

Renjun drags you away before the next song can start. “Number seven,” he shouts in your ear over the bass.

“What about Donghyuck?” You glance behind you where he starts a full performance, an empty water bottle as a microphone.

Renjun shrugs. “He’ll catch up.”

You watch Renjun struggle to pour the tequila, holding the bottle with two hands off the edge of the counter to get the mouth as close to the paper shot cups as possible. You can’t see how much tequila actually makes it into the cups but it burns its way down, sending your stomach spinning. Only a third of the drinks you are supposed to take with him but you’re already questioning the next round.

Renjun gets dragged away from you by some people you aren’t even sure are actually his friends, but you lose track of him when someone tugs on your hand. Jaemin, again. He lost his jacket at some point, wearing a shirt that matches Jeno’s, showing off his considerable arms. Even in the poor lighting from the strobe lights Donghyuck set up, you can see the definition in his biceps.

Yeah, you’re definitely staring.

Jaemin asks something but you can’t hear him over the music. You step closer, stumbling a little on your own feet. As always, he catches you, arm sliding around your waist.

“How are you doing?” He shouts over the music.

You grab his other forearm to keep yourself from falling over. “I’m so hungry.”

Jaemin leans closer, lips brushing against your ear. “Wanna get out of here?” You raise your eyebrows at him and he grins. “The McDonald’s, across the street?”

“I need French fries,” you say, letting go of his arm and spinning out of his embrace to face the door. He catches you before you can go too far (and fall on your face), looping his elbow through yours.

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything falls silent. Not everything, because you can still hear the bass from inside the house, and cicadas sing, and the highway is close enough to hear the rumbling of engines passing by. But quiet falls in the space between you and Jaemin, a breath waiting to fall free.

He doesn’t let go over your arm, using his other hand to brace the three steps in front of Donghyuck and Renjun’s place. He leans on you as much as you lean on him, magnets stuck to each other, except magnets don’t struggle to stay upright crossing an empty street. Maybe if they could get drunk.

The street light flickers above you, crackling electricity. You can feel Jaemin’s bare arm against yours, firm muscle held taut. You peek at the boy beside you, his head tilted to the sky. Pretty. You won’t say it again for fear of being repetitive, but it’s the right word for this moment. Not just Jaemin, but the chilly night air, the faulty light above you fighting with the neon lights to illuminate your breath. You’ll blame the alcohol in the morning, but tonight it’s all pretty.

Jaemin swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and he turns to meet your eyes. It’s definitely the alcohol but you don’t look away.

The crosswalk changes to the white man, beeping at you to cross the street. You tear your eyes away from him, settling for clinging to his arm to make it past the striped crosswalk illuminated by headlights.

You’re hardly the only drunk couple at McDonald’s. Jaemin notices you limping a little and drops you off in a booth, stumbling on his own to order. You must have done something dancing, though you don’t remember anything hurting. Your ankle hurts now, so you lean your head into your elbow and watch Jaemin’s back.

The fluorescent lights can’t make him look sickly. They show his arms in their full glory, open sides revealing enough of his body to make you self-conscious. The hint of a farmer’s tan dusts his arms, shoulders just a shade lighter than his forearms. Where did he get that from?

So many questions about him. So much to know. So little you do know but you like him so much it gets so hard to tell. What matters.

Jaemin puts his wallet into his back pocket, turning around and smiling when he meets your gaze. He slides into the seat across from you. “Potatoes are incoming.”

“Do you know what persimmons taste like?”

“What?” His brow furrows, a cute frown that makes you forget what you’d asked.

“Never mind,” you mumble. Opening your mouth any more around him is a dangerous game—you aren’t quite sure what will spill out.

He reaches out to tap his finger on your arm. Like the sun, being in his atmosphere makes everything warmer, his touch boiling your skin. The heat flows through your body, each cell vibrating with the need for something.

“You feeling okay?”

It takes considerable concentration to work past his finger, which has graduated to drawing shapes, and answer him. “Renjun wanted to do twenty-one shots for his birthday but seven is beyond enough.”

Jaemin whistles. “Is Renjun going to survive tonight?”

“Probably not,” you mumble. “That opens up a council position. You could be a good social media person. Your face is pretty enough.”

“Is that the only requirement for student council?” Jaemin asks. “Being pretty?”

“You can’t be a poli-sci major either,” you say, “which you pass. It helps that you’re smart, and kind. I like people that are smart and kind.”

“That’s a low bar,” Jaemin says. “What else do you like?”

“Hm…” Your voice rumbles, a funny feeling in the back of your throat. You hum for a little longer before you remember Jaemin asked you a question. What do you like?

“Sharks. They’re much cooler than dolphins. And potatoes, I love potatoes. I like Renjun. And Donghyuck. And Mark, even though he’s a poli-sci major. I like Chenle and Jisung. They might be my favorite people.” And you. I like you so much I don’t know how to say it.

“What about doctors?” Jaemin leans closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Do you like doctors?”

You lift your head up, pouting your lips at him. “Doctors have needles. I don’t like needles.”

Jaemin laughs. “Even if the doctor is super rich?”

“Rich? From taking all my money?” You cry.

“Rich from saving people’s lives,” he says. “Like a neurosurgeon.”

You squint at him, the blurriness of your eyelashes mixing with the blurriness of the alcohol and canceling out until his face becomes clear. “Are you actually pre-med because of Grey’s Anatomy?”

Jaemin looks away, running a hand to the back of his neck. “Maybe.” His biceps are almost enough to distract you from his admission. Almost.

“Oh my god.” You can’t hold back the giggles, trying to cover your mouth with your hand. Tears prick at your eyes and you gasp for breath, stomach twisting the alcohol with the giggles and turning over itself until you aren’t sure if you’re starving or need to throw up.

“It’s a perfectly respectable career!” Jaemin says.

“You want to be Patrick Dempsey?” You say between giggles. “Not even McSteamy?”

“Hey, he’s—wait, you watch it too?”

You shrug. “It’s fun.”

“Then how are you making fun of me!” He cries.

“I didn’t go into medicine because of it!”

Before he can say anything else, the workers shout a number. He glances at the receipt and shoots you a glare without a drop of malice in his eyes and leaves.

Jaemin being silly. Jaemin bickering with you. Hard to believe that even two weeks ago, you never would have believed he watched children’s shows in class and chose his profession because of a soap opera. Jaemin who keeps surprising you, who makes you want to believe that maybe he’s from the same planet as you after all.

He brandishes the brown paper bag in front of him like treasure. What does it matter that you’re grinning because of him and not the golden treats inside?

“For you,” he says, setting the bag in front of you and tilting it on its side so you can reach inside for the fries. “I didn’t know what sauce, so I fought… Okay, maybe flirted with the worker, but the important part is that I got one of each.” He pauses glancing at you. “Which apparently you don’t need.”

“So good,” you say, eating them properly: no sauce, just freshly fried golden perfection. You look up to find Jaemin smiling at you… fondly? Is that what’s in his eyes?

“What?”

He shakes his head. “You’re just cute.”

You stare at him, fry halfway to your mouth. He looks down, the tips of his ears tinted red as he grabs a fry and dips it in honey mustard.

The rest of your time at McDonald’s is dedicated to properly enjoying the French fries and not at all sneaking glances at Jaemin sneaking glances at you. You finish the fries long before the swirly feeling in your stomach goes away. The butterflies must be drunk too.

“Back to Renjun’s?” Jaemin asks, standing up and extending a hand for you to take. The most dangerous handhold of your life. You don’t think twice about taking it.

“Mm, I’m pretty tired,” you say, “and Renjun was pretty adamant about the twenty-one shots thing. If we go back, he won’t let me go until one of us is in the hospital.” Walking is easy when Jaemin lets you lean on his shoulder. Standing just outside the McDonald’s, your shadows stretch ten times as tall as you, the lines between you and Jaemin undefined.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “You aren’t worried about him?”

“He swore to send Donghyuck to the grave before him, he’ll be fine,” you say, “plus Jisung is there, sober. They’ll be fine.”

“And you?”

“I’ll be fine when I get home.” You tilt your head up from his shoulder only for him to look down at you, his nose brushing against yours. Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding. But you don’t move away and neither does he.

“Take me home?”

He doesn’t move for a heartbeat, eyes flickering to your lips. Then he turns his head straight, patting your head with his free hand a couple times. “Okay.”

You whisper directions, a ten minute walk from Renjun’s place. The walk home is considerably less stumbly, your balance recovered halfway through the fries. You cling to Jaemin’s arm anyway, more afraid of letting him go than falling.

The building appears far too quickly, Jaemin pushing open the glass doors and walking you to the elevators. You don’t dare say a word to break the silence as the elevator dings to the third floor. He waits until you reach your door to disentangle himself from you, standing with the tips of his sneakers a millimeter away from yours, catching your hands in his.

“Goodnight, YN,” he says.

No. This isn’t the time for goodnight, not when every atom in your body might explode if he takes a step away. You tighten your fingers around his.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask. “See my apartment?”

He tilts his head, a little frown creasing his brow. “Okay.”

You fumble with your keys, hands shaking when you open the door. Emotions swirl around you, making it difficult to tell the difference between excitement and anxiety, if it exists. Calling the place an apartment is a bit of a stretch. Glorified broom closet is your preferred term–a bed shoved against the far wall with a tiny window next to it, desk tucked in next to it like a puzzle piece without enough space for a chair, a door for your bathroom, directly next to the “kitchen” of a stovetop oven and sink, and a closet that barely fits your coats.

Beyond being tiny, you left the place a mess, second, third, and fourth contenders for outfits strewn on your bed, unwashed dishes in the sink. The entryway is the only space for the two of you to stand together comfortably but you lead Jaemin farther in, balling up the clothes and tossing them into your hamper underneath the bed.

“I don’t normally have company,” you explain.

“It’s okay,” he says, “my room’s a mess too.” He picks up the pink teddy bear from your bed and smiles. “A gift?”

You shake your head. “Bought it myself for surviving sophomore year.” You pull the great white shark out from beneath a blanket. “Freshman year.”

“Cute,” Jaemin says, still looking at the bear.

You follow Jaemin as he wanders the tiny room. He pauses at a framed picture of the student council that sits on your desk. It was a gift from last year’s graduating cabinet, the whole group, president, appointed cabinet, unofficial members, and the fresh-terns, fifteen people in total.

“That one’s my ex,” you say, the word still strange in your mouth. “If you count two weeks as even dating.”

“The one in red?”

You nod.

Jaemin snorts. “I’m way hotter than him.” He sets the picture and turns, and suddenly only a couple inches of space separate him from you. This close, you can see exactly how pretty he is, long eyelashes that cannot be natural, even longer when he stares at his toes instead of meeting your eyes. And, this close, you can see the soft pink of his lips, lower lip jutting out just a tiny bit.

Not drunk, not yet sober, it’s easy to lean a little closer, brush your lips softly against his. The kiss is over before you can think about it.

You open your eyes to Jaemin staring at you, eyes wide, somewhere between disbelief and fear. You open your mouth to apologize but he moves faster, hand coming up to cup your face and pulling you closer until you kiss him again, your hand instinctively catching you against his chest. He links his fingers with your free hand, tugging you even closer to him.

He moves slow at first, a gentle kiss that takes your breath away anyway. He pulls away when the stars flood your brain, smile boyish and sweet. His thumb strokes your cheek into the shape of a heart. Then he slides his hands to the back of your neck, letting go over your other hand to wrap around your waist and pull you against his chest.

Jaemin knows how to kiss. He moves like it’s his last chance, desperate lips telling truths words can’t capture. And you might not have as much experience, but you understand the language of desperation. A never ending chain of fireworks explode within you, pushing you to wrap your arms around his neck, kiss him even harder. Your hands move on their own, tugging at the cloth of his shirt until he leans back, breathing heavily.

“How far you want to go?” He asks, chest rising and falling with each breath. “You know consent is so sexy.”

You laugh, giddiness making it difficult to think. “You have a condom?”

Jaemin grins, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. He slips the shiny packet out, tossing his wallet to the floor along with his shirt. He gives you a proper amount of time to ogle his chest before tugging you against him again, your heart pounding so hard against him he must feel it.

He tilts your head towards his until his lips brush against yours, and when he speaks, you feel every word. “Now where were we?”

[Na Jaemin] sorry I had to go :( [Na Jaemin] wish I could have been there when you woke up [Na Jaemin] but! I have a surprise [Na Jaemin] [image attached] [Na Jaemin] see you in the morning <3

You blink at the message, a picture of him wearing a fuzzy headband in the middle of his skincare routine. Your head pounds a little, but otherwise your hangover isn’t too bad. Definitely not the worst it’s ever been.

No, the strange feeling in your stomach is something else. Last night is burned into your memory, every move, every touch. Jaemin, who you fell asleep beside, though the timestamp on the texts show he didn’t stay much longer after. Not that you expected him to. It’s Jaemin, you remind your traitorous heart. No matter how much he flirts, no matter what he did drunk, he was never yours.

Your phone rings, but it isn’t Jaemin.

“Hey,” Renjun says.

“You sound awful,” you say, throat aching.

“You’re one to talk,” Renjun says, “and you didn’t even get to double digits. Donghyuck out-drank you.”

“And how’s Donghyuck doing?”

“Throwing up in the shower, it sounds like.”

You laugh, the motion, sending your stomach spinning. “Happy birthday Renjun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “I actually did call for a reason.”

“I am not helping with clean up,” you say, “Chenle swore he’d do all of it since he bailed on set up.”

“Not that,” Renjun says. “I’ll be over as soon as I can walk without passing out.” He hangs up, leaving you to frown at the empty screen.

Well, considering how late he got back, Jaemin probably won't be awake any time soon. You need to shower and rehydrate and try to convince your stomach to take something—and with how Renjun sounded over the phone, it seems like you’ll have plenty of time.

An hour later, slightly burnt toast, and post-Advil, the headache is mostly gone. Your stomach still twists at the thought of Jaemin. You jump at the doorbell but find Renjun wearing a mismatched sweatsuit and his bright orange crocs, glasses nearly sliding off the bridge of his nose. He wears the hood of his sweatshirt up but you can see tufts sticking up.

“God, did you shower?” You catch a whiff as he passes by, reeking of tequila.

“I was serious about coming over as soon as possible.” He groans, collapsing on your bed. “I think I maybe came over too early though. Might need to throw up.”

“Do you want toast?” You offer.

He glares at you. “Just sit.” Renjun rarely speaks with patience but today he seems extra short on it. Maybe because of the hangover, but the way he glares at the carpet before turning to look at you makes you wonder if something else is wrong. His eyes soften a little when he meets your eyes, his frown lightening just barely.

“I really wish I didn’t have to tell you this,” he begins. “Did you go out with Jaemin last night?”

“He… took me home,” you say. “What’s wrong Renjun?”

“Last night—well—this morning, I met some guys from Sigma Nu, who are friends with Jeno and Jaemin,” he says, “who were talking about how Jaemin is going to be president. About how he’s messing around with the frontrunner, trying to distract them or fuck around, trying to take the presidency.” He falls quiet, studying your face.

“He wouldn’t.” Your voice feels so small.

He wouldn’t, you said, but you can’t even convince yourself. Your heart flounders, drowning in a lake of its own creation, choking on fantasies. Your brain takes control in the chaos, gears turning despite the crashing waves. Facts don’t need oxygen.

1) Jaemin approached you about the presidency first

2) he pretended not to know you were running

3) he’s known for hooking up with anyone

4) he never belonged in your world

The conclusion is obvious, a conclusion you could have come to much sooner if you weren’t too busy getting swept off your feet by his easy flirting and sweet smile. Though your heart doesn’t want to believe it, it makes too much sense. So much more sense than the hope you were stupid enough to believe in. Jaemin isn’t that type. How many of your friends told you that? How many times did you tell yourself that? But you let him hurt you anyway because he held your hand and called you cute. How quickly a fruit can rot when it sits in the palm of your hand.

Jaemin doesn’t exist a universe away–he lives in your world, worse than a cliche. The type of boy that made you want to believe in him, even when you knew better from the start, and maybe that’s the worst part. He never hid who he was, what he wanted. It’s you that wanted more, that believed he could want something more. How pitiful.

“I’m sorry,” Renjun says softly. “I wanted him to be different.”

“Did you? Because everyone was telling me about how I needed to be careful, protect myself, not get hurt over him. Did any of you consider that I didn’t ever expect anything from him?” You shake your head. “No, you all thought poor little YN, getting their feet swept out from under themself over a boy that doesn’t give a shit about them? A boy that’s actively trying to stop them from achieving a dream they’ve had since they started college? Well, guess what? You all were right. Congratulations.” You bite your lip trying to hold back the tears but it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” Renjun repeats. He pats your arm, looking away when you swipe at your eyes. He waits for you to take a shaky breath, hand on your arm. You grab the teddy bear, trying not to hear Jaemin calling it cute.

“I slept with him.” The admission burns its way up your throat. “Last night.” You sigh. “You don't have to tell me I’m an idiot.”

“Okay, I wasn’t going to say that,” Renjun throws his arm over your shoulders. “Though I’m kind of regretting sitting on the bed.” He scoots a little forward but squeezes your shoulder. “You’re going to do things you regret, there’s no stopping it.”

“Why do you always have to be right? Why am I exclusively attracted to shitty men?” Your chin digs into the innocent bear, jaw tightening. “Why can’t I just like a boy that likes me?”

“Do you think maybe you liked him too much?” Renjun asks gently. “Like maybe you liked the idea of him more than Jaemin himself.” He pauses, squeezing your arm. “Don’t let a boy that isn’t real hurt you.”

You lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder. “But he was real. Sweeter than persimmon. Like a strawberry. Or a mango.”

“Okay, I’m not understanding.”

“I thought he was a persimmon, a magic fruit I could imagine tasting sweet or sour or tart but he’s real and even though his flavor isn’t a mystery, it’s better than what I could have imagined. Like taking a bite of a pineapple and it’s the best pineapple you’ve ever had, juicy and sweet.”

“Okay first of all, that’s a terrible metaphor, please stop talking about how he tastes or I will throw up,” Renjun says. “Also persimmons are real.”

“I know that,” you snap, “but I’ve never had one, so they’re magic to me.” You stare ahead, grateful Renjun knows when you just need a little bit of time to work up the courage to say what you need to say. “I’m saying you are right. I didn’t really like him, not at first. But it’s worse than that because when I did get to know him, it was so much better. He wasn’t a dream, he was a boy who watches Grey’s Anatomy and does skincare even after a night of partying.

“I know it makes more sense, that his flirting wasn’t real, that he was never really interested in me. But nothing real about him makes sense, and I want to believe in him, still.” You purse your lips. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“You really liked him,” Renjun says, “that won’t just go away.”

“That would be too easy,” you mutter.

Renjun laughs. “You’re going to be fine. There are so many better men.”

“That’s what you said last time,” you say.

“And I was right,” Renjun says, “Jaemin is better than last time. Marginally. At least he isn’t a poli-sci major.”

You snort.

“See, you’re already laughing at him.” Renjun pushes you off his shoulder, standing up and groaning. “Now, I’m going to throw up in your bathroom, and then we can watch dumb action movies until your brain rots. The rest of the guys are supposed to come over, though I think Donghyuck is still throwing up.”

You bury your face into the bear. “Does everyone know?”

Renjun pauses. “The guys from this morning were sort of proud to be the ones to tell us.”

You groan. The door to your bathroom closes but you barely hear it. You clutch the bear a little tighter, as if the fluff could break through your chest and fill the spilling hole in your heart.

It would be too easy to blame Jaemin, to pretend like none of the pain is from your own stupidity. But you already told Renjun. You knew it from the start.

Knocking at the door, a knock that means only one person. You wipe the tears from your eyes and take a deep breath that does nothing to steady your heart.

“God, I was afraid I was waking you up.” Jaemin starts talking as soon as you open the door. He holds up a bag, a tray with two iced coffees and a hot cup. He looks unfairly good and, of course, he grins at you. “I wasn’t entirely sure what your hangover cure is, so I got hot and iced coffee, and there’s a breakfast sandwich and a donut and also these potato things, I really wasn’t sure what you’d like, but–”

“Did you know that I was running for president?”

Jaemin freezes, frown slowly curling his brow. “What are you–”

“Just answer the question.” You grip the door handle, knuckles turning white.

He pauses a moment too long. “It’s not like that.”

“Never talk to me again.” You fight the urge to slam the door, but your neighbors don’t have to suffer your wrath. You shake your head, “I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit.”

Jaemin opens his mouth but you close the door, sliding the deadlock as hard as you can. He has the audacity to try to explain himself. If you didn’t want to hear him out so badly, you might laugh. Instead you turn your back on the door, sliding down it until you can rest your head on your knees and sob.

Jaemin makes it halfway down the aisle of seats on Tuesday before you turn to Renjun, panic and tears in your eyes. He glares at Jaemin so hard he freezes in his tracks and doesn’t try again. He doesn’t look at you in class, not even a peek. On Thursday, he walks straight to his seat.

Chenle doesn’t bother to throw his packages into the recycling after opening them. He says he’s hanging onto them to make moving out easier, but really he’s just too lazy to break them down. You have to step around them to get into his apartment, since he thought it would be fun to make an obstacle course out of them. Navigating these sober is hard enough, you have no idea how he makes it to bed after a night out.

But today, it’s worth it. It’s been two weeks since you cut off Jaemin, a month since the day you bumped into him in class (a month and three days but who’s counting?). He doesn’t look at you anymore. You haven’t fully escaped him–every once in a while you’ll hear his laugh from the other side of the lecture room. The sound still stabs between your ribs, a wound turned new each time you hear it. But it cuts a little more shallow each time. One day you won’t feel it at all.

And today, Chenle got a puppy.

She cries before you make it over the baby gate in Chenle’s room. A tiny ball of white fluff bounds toward you, tripping over her own feet.

“Hi baby!” Your voice automatically rises three pitches looking at her. “Aren’t you just adorable!” You crouch down, letting her jump on your knees. She won’t sit still long enough to be pet, sprinting around your feet, then back to Chenle sitting on the floor, back resting against his bed.

“Hi to you, too,” Chenle says pointedly.

“Hi Chenle,” you turn back to his puppy. “And hello puppy!”

“Her name is Daegal,” he says. You can hear him rolling his eyes. “‘Cause she’s got a big ass head.”

“Chenle is so mean to you!” You coo at the puppy at your feet. “But that’s okay, I’ll take good care of you. You can come home with me!”

“You hear that baby?” Chenle says. “YN wants to pay me $1000 to take care of you!”

You stare at him. “Did you seriously adopt a $1000 puppy?”

He shrugs. “She’s really cute.”

“You’re insane.” Daegal settles down enough to let you pat her head.

“I invite you into my home for some much needed puppy love and this is how you treat me?” Chenle sighs. “To think that I felt bad for you, that I told you about her before anyone else. This is how I get treated for my kind heart.”

“I don’t need your pity,” you say. Daegal licks your hand.

“It’s not pity.” He pauses. “Well I guess it is pity, but you’re also my friend YN. Believe it or not, watching you live the sad boy lifestyle over some dude, again, is not fun. I’d much rather watch you being happy with my puppy.”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” you mutter.

Chenle claps his hands, making Daegal jump. “But that does remind me, everyone has been too much of a coward to ask, but I’ve heard from tertiary sources about his reputation, but I’d love a first hand account.”

“What are you talking about?” You eye him.

“How was the sex?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

He shrugs. “Well, yeah.”

You pick up Daegal, staring at her instead of Chenle. She wiggles her tail, then her paws, so you set her back down. “I’m not answering that.”

Chenle narrows his eyes, studying you. “That means it was good.”

“That’s not at all what I said.”

“And yet you’re not denying it.”

“Please shut the fuck up.”

For once he listens. With Renjun, silence means peace–he doesn’t say anything that doesn’t matter. When Chenle doesn’t speak, it means he has something to say and he isn’t sure how to say it. You peek up at him and your suspicions are confirmed. He chews on his lip, frowning at you.

“Just tell me.”

Chenle purses his lips. “He dropped out.”

“Of school?”

He rolls his eyes. “The election.”

You stare at him. “Seriously?”

“He hasn’t touched his application since Renjun’s birthday and Donghyuck said yesterday he emailed and said he wasn’t going forward with it.” He doesn’t say anything about how technically you should be checking the email.

“But it doesn’t make any sense.”

Chenle shrugs. “I’m just telling you what I was told.” He stands up. “Now! How much do you like cleaning up dog pee?”

You glance down at Daegal, who squats in the middle of the room, a dark stain on the carpet beneath her. Chenle tosses you some paper towels and a can of Febreeze.

“Why am I cleaning up after your dog?”

“Because you tried to steal her,” he says, “and I’ve already done this three times today and I’m really sick of it.”

You shake your head but pull off a paper towel and press it into the stain.

“We’re going out tomorrow night, by the way,” Chenle says. “And you’ve passed two weekends in a row so you’ve hit a cap for the month. You have to come with, no ‘buts.’”

Apparently the grace period of pity is over. Whatever, it’ll be nice to do something other than hiding in your room watching Powerpuff Girls. And maybe you will see him. Maybe you’ll get an answer to the giant question mark that’s lodged itself in your heart when Chenle told he dropped out. Maybe the little caterpillar of hope that’s survived these past few weeks can metamorphize.

And maybe he’ll break your heart again. But you won’t get any answers daydreaming.

How Renjun can still drink Tequila, you truly do not understand. Ever since his birthday, the thought of it makes your stomach flip, and you didn’t even drink that much. But he sips on the margarita, insisting it doesn’t taste like alcohol.

“It’s disgusting,” you say, pushing it closer to him. “I am not drinking this.”

He rolls his eyes. “You do realize the whole gimmick of this place is all their drinks are made with tequila, right?”

“No one told me that!” You glare at Chenle, who showed up at your door at exactly 8:00pm and dragged you to the bar. “For the record, I would have pre-gamed. But I guess I can be the babysitter tonight.”

Chenle cheers. “Donghyuck, you’re back in! YN is babysitting!”

Your drink slides down the table to Donghyuck, interrupting whatever ‘conversation’ he was having with Jisung.

“I thought the whole point of dragging you out was to make you have fun,” he says.

“You better be fun, then,” you say.

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows but eventually take a long sip. “Brain freeze!” He cries, clutching his forehead. You laugh with the rest of the guys. It’s almost normal, except you can’t help but peek at the door whenever somebody walks in.

The night passes and the guys get more drunk. The bar gets more crowded–soon you are squished between Renjun and Chenle, barely able to breathe as the music slowly gets louder. The tequila looks more and more appealing but the guys need at least one person sober to make it back alive: Chenle arm wrestles a stranger while Donghyuck has some poor soul cornered, practicing his pick up lines.

When Chenle loses, you push past him, muttering something about fresh air that they probably can’t hear. You push through the crowd of drunk people, trying not to remember the last time you did this.

You squint at the steps, edges difficult to see with so little light. Who builds a bar on the second floor of a building? You make it to the final step but misjudge how close it is and your foot slips off the edge, sending you tumbling forward. You might have caught yourself, but you don’t have to—strong arms catch you mid fall, wrapping around your waist and swinging you clean off the stairs and onto solid ground. You aren’t surprised at all to look into Jaemin’s eyes as he lets go.

He frowns at you, eyes so dark they look black. Maybe it’s the lack of light, but the twinkle in his eyes, the glint you’ve come to recognize as trouble, is missing.

“Hi,” you say.

He drops his arms, stuffing his hands into his back pockets. “So you’re talking to me now?”

An apology begins on your lips but you can’t push it out. Not when you still don’t understand. “Can we talk?”

He glances at you. “Have you been drinking?”

You shake your head.

“Okay.” He doesn’t walk away, folding his arms over his chest.

When you imagined this conversation, the sun shined so that you could see the warmth in his eyes. He smiled at you, called you silly for ever doubting him. The Jaemin in your head wouldn’t ever do something to hurt you.

But Jaemin doesn’t exist in your head–it’s far past time you learned that.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have just cut you off. But I thought… I don’t know what I thought, let alone what I think now.” You force yourself to meet his cold eyes, searching for a hint of warmth. “Chenle told me you dropped out of the presidency.”

He nods slowly.

“But Renjun told me that someone told him that the presidency is the only reason you ever pretended to like me, but if you dropped out then I really don’t get it. Not that I ever got it in the first place, though, because you’re you and I’m me, and everyone kept telling me that, like I didn’t already know that you are supposed to be a persimmon and grow on a tree far far away from my lemon or pomegranate or whatever kind of fruit I am, because the point is we were never meant to be.” You take a deep breath, realizing that you don’t exactly sound sane. “What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t make sense. It made sense when you were trying to cheat me out of the presidency, but you dropped out. And it doesn’t make sense.”

Jaemin blinks slowly at you. “You would rather believe that I was trying to rob your presidency than that I actually like you?”

“Do you?”

He frowns. “Of course I do. I like you so much I think about things I’ve never wanted before, the silly shit–watching horror movies as an excuse to cuddle, having picnics by the river, buying groceries together–I wanted to do all of it with you.

“You talk a lot about how we’re different people—who gives a shit? If I’m the type of person that wants to be with you and you’re the type of person that wants to be with me, why does any of that matter?” He takes a step closer to you, and you can see you were wrong. His eyes aren’t cold, they’re full of emotion, dark waves of hurt. “What do I have to do to prove it to you? Should I tell you how pretty you are? How incredibly smart you are—not fake smart like me, but really smart. And when I’m around you, I like who I am. I know it’s cheesy but you bring out the best in me.

“I know I fucked up. I should have told you how I felt before anything else, and I shouldn’t have left. I regretted it as soon as I was gone but it was terrifying to lay next to you and give you my bare heart, even when I didn’t think you would ever try to hurt me.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if it hurts more thinking that you never wanted a relationship or thinking that I’d ever stoop that low. I mean, everyone tells me about my reputation, but I didn’t think you cared about any of that.”

Tears prick at your eyes. How could you be such an idiot? Listening to all the wrong people, especially yourself. Jaemin doesn’t exist in another world, he isn’t any kind of fruit. He’s a boy that you like that likes you back. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, reaching a tentative hand out to rest against his arm. “I’m so sorry.” He drops his head, sighing. “I was an idiot.”

He sighs, staring at your hand. You start to drop it but he grabs it, squeezing your fingers. “Where do we go from here?”

You study him, eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. Jaemin who is not a fruit, not an alien, just a boy.

“Hey.” You reach out and cup his cheek, waiting for him to meet your eyes. “My name is YN. I think you’re really cute.”

For a heartbeat he doesn’t move. Then he smiles, cheek rising underneath your hand. “Hey, my name is Jaemin. I think you’re really cute too.”

“Oh really?” You slide your hand to the back of his neck, wrapping your other arm across it. His arms wrap on your waist, pulling you into a hug. He squeezes you flush against him, head tucked into your shoulder just as yours is tucked into his.

“I know we can’t start over,” he says, “but can we start again?”

“How about this time we just talk to each other?” You say, tapping your fingers on his shoulder. “No more rumors and gossip.”

He nods, chin digging into your neck a little. “I swear, I won’t give you any reason to doubt me ever again. I won’t be the kind of guy your friends call a red flag.”

You loosen your grip and lean back to look him in the eye. “Wait, did they seriously say that to you?”

“I ran into Donghyuck after I dropped out and we had a very… one sided conversation with his side doing all the talking,” Jaemin says, “and Renjun made it obvious from the start that he didn’t like me.”

You laugh a little, then even more when he pouts. “You’ll win them over again.”

“They really don’t like me,” he says.

You cup his cheek again. “You’ll change their minds.” He leans into your touch, closing his eyes. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his. He gasps a little, hands tightening on your waist.

“Now, am I remembering incorrectly, or are you an amazing kisser?” You ask.

He grins, leaning forward and closing the distance without wasting a second. Neither of you can stop smiling, lips and teeth gnashing together but it’s still the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You stretch an arm out, only to find more bed instead of empty space. You sit up, shivering as the blanket falls away. Right, you fell asleep in Jaemin’s bed. His room is much bigger than yours, sharing an apartment with Jeno. He has enough room for a dresser and a nicer desk, even a chair. It seems he lied to you about being messy, because even when you show up unannounced, like today, his clothes are neatly folded and the biggest mess you’ve found has been three dirty dishes in the sink (which you later found out were Jeno’s).

Jeno, apparently, isn’t all bad–he did let you in even though your boyfriend was still out. He doesn’t fully trust you, but then again, your friends don’t hide their mistrust of Jaemin either. You maintain your earlier stance that time will heal that wound.

You hear a knife against a cutting board coming from the kitchen, so you wrap the blanket around your shoulders and shuffle towards the sound, unable to stop the smile from spreading up your lips when you turn the corner and find Jaemin standing at the counter. He glances behind him and grins at you, and even though you just woke up from a nap and probably have messy hair and marks on your face, he says, “you look sexy.”

“So cheesy,” you say. He laughs and turns back around. You slip behind him and wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his back and closing your eyes. He radiates warmth better than any blanket. It’s too easy to lean against him, take a deep breath of the scent of his laundry detergent and cling to him. Jaemin moves slowly, careful not to hit you by accident.

“What’re you doing?”

“A surprise,” he says, “at least my attempt at one.” He sets down the knife on the counter and taps on your hands, pulling them apart gently and spinning around to face you before setting your hands back on his waist. He tilts his head at you when you purse your lips and frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Still no ass,” you say, patting him a little lower than his waist.

“Hey!” He sticks his lower lip out. “I’m trying.”

“No one’s perfect,” you say, sliding your hands back up and sneaking a kiss to his cheek.

“You are,” he says, cupping your face to kiss you properly. Jaemin still kisses like it’s his last chance, drawing out every moment, lips lingering on yours until your head spins. It’s only when you can’t breathe that he finally pulls away.

“Good answer,” you say.

He smiles. “If you come to the gym with me I’d be more motivated to get an ass you’d be proud of.”

“You send enough pictures for me to know that if I saw you at the gym I would never survive,” you say. “You want me to die?”

He laughs, squishing your face together with his hands. “If anyone’s going to die, it’s going to be me, because you are too cute.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, still squished together in a pout. He laughs at the outrage on your face, letting go of your cheeks and slipping his hands behind your neck, kissing you one more time for real, letting go far too early.

“The surprise,” he says. He lets go of you with one arm, turning to the cutting board and holding up a slice of what he was cutting. It looks a little bit like a tomato, though it’s more orange than red, and about the size of a golf ball.

“A persimmon?”

“I still don’t really get the persimmon thing,” he says, “but I’ve never tried one.”

You blink at him. Jaemin makes it so easy to fall in love. He holds the piece closer to your mouth, waiting for you to open. A persimmon tastes sweet and mild and rich, a little bit like honey. Jaemin eats his own piece, frowning and nodding.

“No more magical mystical fruit,” Jaemin says.

“You’re going to make an amazing trophy husband,” you say. You tap him on the nose. “Maybe we could even be a power couple.”

He grins. “We’ll be so cool. Like Beyoncé and her husband.”

“Jay-Z?”

“Whatever.” Jaemin flips his hand. “The important part is that I am Beyoncé.”

You smack his shoulders softly. “Hell no, Beyoncé would never have a flat ass.”

“It always comes back to the ass.” He sighs. “Be honest: are you embarrassed by me?”

Once you never thought he could be embarrassing. That was before you knew he staked his career on a soap opera and wears jorts to the gym, before he called you drunk just to confess he accidentally stole your pencil, before he spent three hours putting up campaign posters for you (and then another two getting written up by campus police for not having permission). Before you fell in love with him.

“By you? Never.” You pat his cheeks. “Your ass leaves much to be desired, though.”

thank you for reading!

#🌟 stars galaxy #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct reader #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct fluff #nct angst #jaemin #na jaemin #nct jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst

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desceros · 4 months

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me: [looks at calendar, gets a wicked idea, looks into the camera] happy springtime, turtle fam! who's ready to celebrate the season?

...mating season, that is. hehe. [dodges the tomatoes]

so! i had the idea that it would be super fun to have a community-wide event where we all have a prompt and then everyone fills it in their own way.

...i then decided all the prompts i came up with were too good not to use, but also none of them were Good Enough to use exclusively, so i changed my mind and the prompt is now just MATING SEASON. with a few suggestions at the bottom of this post if you're looking for some.

since spring is coming upon us, i hereby invite everyone to join in the vernal festivities... which in turtle parlance, of course, means only one thing: write, draw, whatever your version of "mating season", then join me on march 1 to post it with the tag #TMNTSpringShellebration. we then shall browse the fine selection of our mutual artistic efforts, and basically just have a good time as a community.

here are the prompts i came up with as starters-slash-things-to-include if you're looking for a place to get started. feel free to use these at will, or use them to come up with something of your own:

“Please don’t make me explain this. It’s humiliating as is.”

Oops, Looks Like Mating Season Came A Week Early This Year

“…In all of my mating seasons, this has never happened before.”

“I told you not to come by! It’s mating season!”

Probably should have expected it to be different now that he’s not going through it alone.

Because of Shenanigans, you have to wait. Wait… Wait… ok now.

They’re not the right person for mating season… but they’re the one who’s here, so…

“Show me where it hurts."

so yeah! see you all on march 1 for the, uh, spring shellebration. party popper emoji

questions i imagine will be popping up and i hope will clear up here before my askbox swells beyond capacity under the cut to keep this post from being Way Too Long. also it's really not that serious it's just an excuse to write slash draw for everyone Please Don't Take This Thing Too Seriously It's Not That Serious:

"can i participate?" yes! it's literally just an invitation to do something. nothing fancier than that. no need to be following me or in my friend group or whatever.

"can i write (insert fic idea here)?" yep! so long as it's related to the idea of mating seasons, it flies. reader insert? hell yea. oc? hell yeah. solo turtle and his favorite pillow? go for it.

"can i draw (insert art idea here)?" yep! uh. i know tumblr has the cops watching for sin bin material, but you art people know how to deal with that. and if you don't, uh, ask the other art people. im just a feral cat in a trench coat

"how do i participate?" write/draw/collect songs for/whatever. then, on march 1, post it and tag it #TMNTSpringShellebration. also, for funsies, keep it hush hush what you're working on so we can all be super shocked when the day comes! except, y'know, that you're planning on joining in. totally do that.

"when do i post it?" march 1. whenever on that day. waves hands around in a vague gesture at time zones not mattering. seriously don't take this so seriously it's just me wanting to create cool shit with my friends with a little more structure to it

"does it have to be horny?" i mean. it's an event about mating season. so by definition it's going to be at least a little horny. but however you interpret it is cool. even if it's just. idk. leo sitting sweatily in a chair looking longingly at a glass of water bc he's thirstier than usual. be smart about things, people. i'm not your dad.

"which tmnt verse is this for?" whichever one you want it to be for!! rise! bayverse! 2007! your fan iteration! your friend's fan iteration! your mortal enemy's fan iteration! yes!

"will you be reblogging everything?" absolutely not, but this isn't an event About Me. i am incidental to the thing. it's about Us. coming together as a community. for horny turtles. puts my hands on your shoulders. do it for you. for your friends. for the community.

#text tag #feel free to reblog this around. it started out as a thing for turtle fam but we all agreed that it would be fun for The Community #anyway yeehaw let's spend all of february thinking about what to do and then the night of feb 29 doing it RAH #tmntspringshellebration

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littlewoodblack · 14 days

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Girl’s Night at The Burrow by Me ✨

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pairings: George Weasley/reader (fem)

I wrote this when I was like 15 and originally posted it on wattpad, then ao3, and now this lovely platform.

FLUFF

My favorite fanfic theme, TENSION ❤️❤️

1.6k words

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Shouts and laughs fill the air of the Weasley’s living room, except they’re all emitted from loud and rowdy boys that should really be in bed right now. The only reason they aren’t is because Arthur persuaded Molly into letting them stay up until midnight seeing as it is summer break and on summer break, the children should be having fun.

“Get ready for bed, boys!” Molly’s voice echoes through the house from the kitchen.

“What? No way! It’s an hour till midnight, mum.” Ron rejected.

“I know dear,” she returned to her calm motherly voice, “It’s just for tonight, pip pip.”

I was handed an excruciatingly hot mug from her which appeared to be cocoa. Bye bye finger prints, now I’m free from the law, I guess. Ginny pushed her seat back with a sigh to excuse herself.

“No, no, Ginny sit back down, you’re staying here. So are you, Y/N.”

Ginny and I exchanged perplexed glances at one another as we mentally analyzed the passing week to discover anything we might have done wrong that we would be in trouble for. Molly walked away to the kitchen, presumably to make another hot chocolate for Ginny or herself.

In her absence, I whispered to Ginny, “did you do anything bad??”

“Nothing she knows about.” She whispered back, mirroring my clueless demeanor.

The second hot chocolate was placed on a coaster and slid to Ginny, who soon burnt her tongue.

“Now I know you’re wondering why I put everyone to bed”, a smug smirk appeared on her face and she placed her hand on her hips, “but it’s been ages since I’ve got to have a good girl talk and pampering. I brought a muggle face mask and- oh. Where do you suppose Hermione is at?”

“Did you tell her to stay down?” Ginny asked with an ice cube resting on her tongue.

“Oops.” Molly went to make yet another hot chocolate while I ran up to our room to find her, on the way being stopped in my tracks by George leaving the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped upon his waist and wet hair dripping water everywhere which Ron will probably step on later with socks by accident and throw a fit about. George is not the stoic and mysterious person he thinks he is, especially since the blushy tint of his cheeks was very obvious.

“Why have you not got any pajamas on yet?” He looked me up and down.

“Why’ve you not even got a shirt on?”

“Uh, well, do you like, wear your clothes in the shower or something?”

“Only when I’m feeling spontaneous.” With that sarcasm, I pushed past him in an attempt to hide the blush that I can definitely feel, and that he definitely noticed.

“MIONE!” I frantically knock on the door, internally withering away at the thought of George.

“BLIMEY, WHAT??” Her book falls to the floor when she reaches to hold her heart after being startled.

“Sorry. You’re not supposed to go to bed yet, we’re having a girls night.”

“Oh well okay”, she crawls out of bed, “wish I got the memo earlier, though”

She walks ahead of me with one of her blankets wrapped over her shoulders.

“Ah, good.” Molly waddles over to the table with more mugs and headbands are laid out already, along with a jar of bentonite clay. Hermione takes a seat and grabs the plush bunny headband.

“Y/N do you want the leopard print one or the bear one?” asks Ginny.

“Whatever one you don’t want”

She tosses me the leopard print one. “Damn.”

“If you wanted the bear one, you should have said so when I gave you the chance.” She rolls her eyes.

“No, no, the leopard print one is… nice.”

The hot chocolate is stubborn to cool off, but that’s never stopped me.

“So you fancy George?” Hermione is now applying the clay.

I nearly spat out my drink which would have been better than choking on it as I did. Ginny’s jaw dropped.

“I knew it!” Molly seems overjoyed as she slams her hands on the table.

“Hermione. I love you, but what the hell.”

She seems to be unconcerned- as if what relationship I could potentially have with George is clearly a matter of fact. How a scientist might discuss data.

“Sorry, isn’t that what you’re supposed to talk about at ‘girl time’?”

“Well… yeah, actually. I just wasn't expecting that in the slightest.”

“At least we know you wouldn’t be rejected.” Ginny says, also in a matter-of-fact tone while sipping her cocoa.

“Sorry?”

Molly is doing her best to withhold her glee, “Well it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Oh come on! He never shuts up about you. Everybody knows about his crush on you.”

“Everybody except me, apparently???” I’m flabbergasted, “how do you know?”

“Oh, well I don’t know, maybe cause he shoves our stuff over to sit next to you, or cause he’s always staring at you, or cause he steals your stuff, or cause-”

“I think she gets it, mum.” Ginny interrupts.

“No, no, no keep going, keep going.”

“This is something I think is especially cute,” Molly scrunches her shoulders up, “when he knows you’re coming over, he cleans his room and puts on fresh clothes.”

“He does all the stuff in the book Y/N, honestly, come on” Ginny says.

Hermione adds, “And you eat it up, you just don’t know it.”

I put my face in my hands. “Hermione help me.”

“With what?”

“When I went up to get you I bumped into him after he got out of the shower and he was shirtless and I was a blushing mess and there’s no way he couldn’t have noticed.”

“Oh, so that’s what was wrong with you.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Flirt back.” Ginny shrugged.

“Easy for you to say.”

After Molly takes off her mask, she rips open a bag of what she calls “muggle chips” and pours them into a bowl so tackily decorated, you’d only find it in the china cabinet of a very old lady.

“Where’d you get all the muggle stuff?”

“Mostly Hermione, but the weird things laying around like this, uh…” she pokes at a pocket sized flashlight laid on the side table of the couch, “that’s Arthur.”

I get up and look out the window to see the surrounding field, filled with the chirps of crickets enjoying the summer air. Ginny follows. The moon hangs like a plate in the sky and stars are spattered in all directions around it.

“It’s the prettiest thing in the world”

“Not in George’s opinion.”

“Ginny, drop it!” I shot her a lightheartedly serious look and we went to sit back down.

Footsteps thumped down the stairs, and the room dropped to a dead silence. My back was to the rest of the house and I couldn’t see who approached, but given Ginny and Hermione’s wide-eyed stares into my soul and Molly covering her mouth with her hand, I could assume the worst. I heard water pour from the pitcher behind me.

“Pretty hopping party, huh?” George took a look around. “When I’m with my friends, I like to sit with my back perfectly straight in deafening silence too.”

“George, go to bed.” Molly was stern.

“But I wanna come to girls’ night.”

“You’re lacking some plumbing.” Ginny giggled.

“I can trash talk people just as well as you lot can.” He leaned onto my chair with his hand resting on my shoulder, still sipping water, “did you see Freddie’s outfit today, woof. As if we’re not dealing with enough right now.”

I folded over in my chair snickering. Unbeknownst to me, he looked at Ginny and mouthed a triumphant, “yes!” to her, delighted to make me laugh.

“Go!” Molly swatted him with a headband, which he dodged only with his hips and kept himself in the exact same spot.

“I keep telling him to stay away from yellows since they wash out his features, you know, but he never listens.

“George.”

“Alright, alright”

Once he had left, Hermione squealed, “That was so adorable!”

Ginny cheered, “Aww little Georgie’s in love.”

Again, with my face in my hands I gasped “Okay, you’re right, Mione.”

“About?”

“I like him. He makes my heart drop to my stomach when I see him. He has the cutest smile ever.”

“You should tell him!” Molly is ecstatic.

“Maybe. Maybe one day.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows, “If you put it off too long, then I’m going to tell him myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I gotta pee, I’ll be right back.”

I abruptly left my seat and walked to the bathroom for a second alone to have a reality check. The hallway to the bathroom matches the scrappy but warm vibe of the house with hanging hand-knit tapestries adorning the wall and random shoes shoved to the corners of the floor.

“OH-” I let out a yelp.

“Shh” said George, who apparently was lingering around the corner the whole time.

“You nosy little-”

He cut me off with a kiss. His hands gripped on my cheeks and my hips. If I weren’t as stunned as I am, I might have noticed the warmth and smooth texture of his lips, or his strong frame holding me up, or even the cologne he wears just for me.

“You have a cute smile, too.”

“You’re pathetic, George.” I lay my head into his collarbones.

Into my ear, he whispers, “I love you”, then retreats back to his bedroom, blowing a kiss on the way.

“Good night.”

#molly weasley #george weasly x reader #reality shift #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fanfiction #fanfic #shifting community #weasley twins #ginny weasley #george weasley #hermione granger #platonic #romantic #tension #shiftblr

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nottapossum · 13 days

Note

Does that age regression journal Charlie made for everyone actually exist? Because that sounds really helpful honestly. If it’s something you made up for the fix, would you consider posting how to make one irl?

It sadly does not exist. I made it up for a sander sides fic years ago...then never posted it 😅

So I recycled it for this fic because I loved the idea so much. (I still may post that fic someday but it'll be a bit.)

Anyway.

I will absolutely show you how to make one!

To demonstrate, I will use 💜's Jurnal because she's the only one who has a regression journal, lol. She was very nice in letting me use it.

(💜: It's got Patton's emblem on it 🥰)

(For context, we have DID/Osdd and 💜 is one of our headmates that regresses).

(I hope to make more for our other littles, but I just haven't gotten around to it yet.)

(📖: This notebook was actually a gift because it came in a set of baby Yoda notebooks, and our mom didn't want this one, 💜 loved it because she loves Patton on sander sides. And if you don't know what sander sides is, you should 100% binge it. It's on YouTube. Was made by the "story time" vine guy.)

(Anyway we used sticker paper and just printed it out for the notebook. I think it looks pretty cool.)

📝Step 1 is to find a nice notebook and decorate it in a way that makes you happy! (If you decide to use a notebook)

Now, I did this with a pen and some colored pencils ✏️ it's not fancy and it doesn't, need to be either.

If you'd rather type this all up on a computer and put it in a binder, that works too.

However you want to do this is perfect! You can use crayons, pencils, just keep it digitally. Whatever makes you the happiest ✨️

Intro page:

Age range: (💜 wrote 2-5)

Caregiver: (Name of caregiver) (if you don't have one, just don't add this question or you can write "myself" independence!)

Favorites 💕

Favorite color: (💜Wrote Purple)

Favorite show/movie: (💜Sander sides)

Favorite animal: (💜Wrote later, Butterflies and Cats)

Comfort 🧸

Comfort show/Movie: (💜Wrote Sander sides and bluey)

📝Show that helps calm you down or just provides some comfort. This can be different than your favorites or the same.

Comfort book:

📝What book makes you feel comfort? You can also write a fanfic if you want, 💜 did once I added this question to her journal. She may actually need a whole page of her comfort fics. Most are sander sides, and some are Loki, Hamilton, Brooklyn 99, exc. (Mostly SS fics by @childishfluff aka @logical-little-lies here on Tumblr. And @dannyisdone and freepoetrynightmare @agerestorybits onA03, they're great! Check them out! They made us want to start writing fics of our own)

Comfort food/drink (💜Milk, Angel milk)

Comfort idem: (💜Paci, Kitty stuffie, Jasper (a racoon stuffie) )

Add any other questions you want!

📝You can add any other info that might be important for a caregiver to remember or other stuff you want to share just for fun.

Okay now what you actually asked for:

The page in the fic...

Daily checkup 🌻

-Name/Date: (We don't often date things, but it would definitely be important for some)

-I am _ years old today (💜Wrote 5)

📝Just write your little age or ??? If you don't know.

-Today I: (Action, explain your day) (💜Wrote: played with kitties)

📝Explain your day, and probably give yourself more space than I put. Oops.

-I want my caregiver to know: (💜Wrote: I ❤️ U)

📝Great way to tell your cg something that is hard to say outloud. Or just something for fun. If you have no caregiver, feel free to replace this with: "I am feeling: ___ today because:"

You can add any negative emotions to process them.

- I feel _ about today (Good, Bad, Normal) because (give an explanation)

(💜Wrote: Good, because I got to be small)

📝looking at the day and processing any negative feelings or looking back at a happy day, you can smile about later!

-Tomorrow/Next time I want to: (What you hope to do next time you regress) (💜Wrote: Play with dolls)

📝Note for next time if there was something you didn't get to do that you wanted.

-Something bad about the day: (💜Wrote: Feel icky)

-Something good about the day: (💜Wrote: Got to small)

📝Looking at the positives and negatives of the day. It's okay if you can't find something.

If you can't think of something positive, you can write: "I can look forward to better days."

Then, at the bottom, I put a box that asks if the little finished answering the questions.

You can put any sticker or add a check mark ✅️ We just happen to find a yes sticker.

And here is a page of fun recipes for us to remember. 💜 loves to try new kinds of milk.

(Ignore the bad spelling lol)

Some of these I found here and some are on reddit. Just look up "Age regression milk recipes" and they should show up.

📖: There are a lot of really great journal prompts here on Tumblr that you can use as well. I didn't get any of these from tumblr, but I plan on expanding the journal evenentually and may use some I find on here.

Let me know if you guys would be interested in me posting any expansions we make for the journal. I plan on doing it for the fic, so I may post about it anyways.

If you guys decide to use this and post about it on your own blog, plz tag me! I'd love to see it!

Even if it's just a digital one or just a tumblr post. I'd love to see.

@todayimfour @ask-dusty-boy @trophyxtissues2 @abby5577 @im-not-paying-my-taxes @attagirljessy @thatsthat24 @legeufygeuber100 @stormy-is-hyperfixated

#ittybittysinners #ittybittysinnersq&h #age regression journal #age regression prompts #sfw age regression #sander sides agere #hazbin hotel agere #agere journal #agere journal prompts #age regressiom Journal Prompts.#Possum's agere stuff #possum's agere Journal #possum's ramblings

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thewritingginger · 1 year

Text

;) Alphabet - Ran Haitani pt. 2

Wow! It’s been a HOT minute since I’ve posted I’ve been in a rut lately but I’m trying to work myself out of it :)

In the mean time here's some spicy Ran HCs for your Tuesday

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Letters: C, E, G, O, U Warnings: 18+, GN! Reader, Talks of sex

Enjoy ~

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Ran’s cum is usually pretty thin & not a lot comes out

If he’s on a business trip/ too busy to get off w/ you or by himself he might produce more

He enjoys cumming inside his partner, if they want him to, but he really likes painting his partner with his seed

Spraying it onto their belly or onto their used hole feels more territorial to him than filling them up

Isn’t afraid to eat his cum out of you oop

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Ran has a fair amount to experience

Most of them are one night stands or short term flings

He does have long spells w/o action cuz work gets in the way and it can become more of a hassle than fun to get laid when he is trying to work—also not to mention boi would probably prefer taking a nap over the risk of having a meh lay with a one night stand

But all that said, he knows enough to get you off and listens well enough to become a pro at working your body

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

As we know Ran is a little chill boy

Of course he, if in a serious relationship/ is down bad, he will slow things down and make love to his partner

But if something happened like knocking heads or stumbling he just laughs it off and gets back to business

He never wants his partner to feel bad when you should both be feeling good

Also he can have a playful streak

Especially during foreplay/ the initiation of sex

If you’re ticklish, he might use that against you

He might say some cheesy/ silly shit

“So cute I could just eat you up, Baby,” he says as he is kissing and playfully biting down your torso and sides, or your inner thighs towards the space inbetween

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Loves lazy licking on his partner

He could honestly spend a while between your legs

If he catches you lying on the couch he might strip off your pants and get to work between your legs for the fun of it

He is part of the does it for HIS pleasure gang

Of course tho he does love seeing your lips wrapped around him

He’ll sink far into whatever seat he is in—the couch, his office chair, ect— with his hand gently caressing your hair as he watches you work yourself up and down his shaft with that lazy smile of his

He also praises you, both while giving or receiving 😉

“You taste so good, Baby”

“Stop? Is my tongue too much for your sensitive body? I’m sorry, Sweetheart but I have no intentions of stopping till you come on my tongue.”

“Just like that. Good Girl/Boy.”

“You are so good for me, knowing just what I like, huh.”

Honestly on nights he wants to get off but is too tired, he loves opting for oral/ using his hands

But he loves it as a “main course” any time, any day

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a teasing mother fucker

It’s not always in a hyper dominate way during sex

He finds it much more fun during foreplay—he’ll do it out in public if the mood strikes him

“Careful, Baby, keep looking at me like that you’ll let everyone you’re dripping in your panties for me.”

If he put a toy in you before y’all left the house he likes you turn it on when you least expect it

Once when you were out to dinner with him and the guys he had you squirming in your chair, trying hard to hide it. He just put his hand on your thigh and leaned into your ear,

“You all right, Sweetheart? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

Then he just laughed when you gave him a glare

Hope you liked that!

If you want to see more, let me know

Feedback & Interaction is always appreciated :)

💛 ~

~ Masterlist ~

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #ran smut #tokyo revengers ran #tokyorev ran #tokyorev ran haitani #tokyorev ran haitani x reader #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran headcanons #x gn!reader #*nsfw #*nsfw alphabet

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phrandallanton · 10 days

Note

do you have any tips on learning anatomy ?!1?1 im losing my mind over it 😿

Watch videos on YouTube about it or looking it up online, basic info I know. We live in the time where information is so exseable, use that to your advantage! The only place you should avoid is TikTok. Don't get me wrong there are some good creators on there but tutorials are better on YouTube and Google as I feel like they explain more. Here's some channels I recommend for not only learning anatomy but art as a whole:

Marc Brunet:

Draw like a sir:

tppo

As of tips I can bring to the table, the biggest one is don't stress over making things perfect! One of the reasons why I love the RANFREN style is how poorly drawn it is and that's what makes it look good. I know it sounds like an insult but it's not. The hands are always so effed up looking and that's my favorite part. Another example is Shin Chan. A lot of the adult's faces are always so wonky but it works and I love it.

Of course you need to learn the rules before you break them. Even the most exaggerated art use basic anatomy/fundamentals. But you don't always have to play by them. Art is subjective, you can draw a piece that has perfect anatomy and fundamentals and people may still not like it. Draw whatever looks good to you and makes you happy!

(This may differ though as if you want to get into a job where you have to draw in a sertant way/sertant thing the whole "I don't care what people think" isn't going to work. I personally do art as a hobby and never plan on doing it to appeal to others so I can bank off of it. If one day I can do that, cool. If not, also cool. That's how I see it! When it comes to trying to make art profitable a lot of creativity can be lost as most places don't want to take a risk of doing something that can effect them and the money. Little tangent, oops. But yeah, keep in mind that what I just typed out is coming more from a hobbyist stand point rather a professional one!)

Another thing is if there's something you don't like about your piece, then fix it. I use to say whatever when there was something I didn't necessarily like about my art because I didn't want to redo hours of work or mess up something, but trust me redoing it and getting it somewhere you like is so much better. Once again, the internet has lots of information to help so don't be shy to look up on how you can make something look to your liking. Criticism can also help with this. Always be open to constructive criticism when you're wanting to get better! Doesn't mean you have to apply said criticism to your art but it's still something you 100% should be open to.

Also with practicing try and do 30 minutes at a time and taking 15 minutes breaks in between. You're brain tends to absorb more information then studying for an hour straight. And don't push yourself to study every moment of your life. You should have a good balance of studying and free drawing. And please take breaks too. Burn out is not fun, it can take a long time to overcome it. (Coming from someone who experienced burn out for over a whole year.)

You also may not learn at it right away. Take your time and go easy on yourself! Don't compare your art to others as you have no clue how many hours they spent into practicing, and I assure you most artist have drawn stuff that looks horrible compared to what they post online. People will only post stuff they think looks good for the world to see. Your practice sketches aren't the best but it's one of the steps that's going to help you get where you want to be! <(＾⊆＾)_/¯

#Ask #Tips #art #digital art #drawing #artwork #Hope this helps!#info dump

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mdverse · 5 months

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md's fun silly little top 10(ish) arts of the 2023!*

*pretend there's a fun cute doodled banner here (i was going to make one earlier and then i forgor)

doing a lil recap of my top 10 15 (it was supposed to be 10 and i could not narrow it down oops) best(? this is subjective as fuck i guess it's more like my personal faves) drawings of the year! *the crowd cheers* (it’s me I’m the crowd)

15: paradise by the dashboard light! i hate to rank her so low bc i spent ages on her but it seems i don't love the result that much anymore so :/ a for effort for me tho this was ambitious

14: cheer girl loml <33 not my best art technically by far but i went way out of my comfort zone for the background and the art style (for no good reason really) (i just wanted to do a comic book thing bc superhero vibes or whatever) (it did not come out the way i was hoping it would bc i think i got too frustrated) and we simply must acknowledge that. atog did things to me that i cannot explain

13: barbie meme brittana! not my best britt but truly sooo fun to work on. there's nothing quite like finding a fun rendering process and then never using it again (i don't even remember how i coloured this but i like it)

12: cowboy barbie brittana <3 they look good, they're about to kiss, cute outfits, pretty sunset, probably went overboard with the rim lighting, what's not to love? a banger, i think

11: i say a little prayer! i think the background is. questionable at best. but this is still really fun! i think i got possessed when i got to the uniforms bc goddamn they look good

10: klaine?? on this blog???? almost unheard of lmao i truly did not think i would like this one as much as i did. i'd consider ranking it higher if i wasn't constantly Unwell over brittana but again, i'm biased, and no one here should be surprised about that

9: pre-wedding kiss my beloved! with how insane i've been over this kiss it could perhaps be higher. i am gnawing on my desk as we speak i'm not even sitting at a desk rn

8: rutherchang x black swan!! ohhh u guys i don't talk about this one enough i think it's so pretty i don't even remember how i did the colours for it but rhgfdkngd?? love her, love pushing the glee x bts agenda, if any of u gifmakers are interested in making a mike chang x black swan lyric gifset i will love u forever

7: colour wheel challenge! busted my whole tiddies and ass for this one fellas. labour of love etc etc i think staring at the bright colours for so long made my eyesight worse and i'm ok with that

6: mistletoe brittana <33 easily the best instalment of this series by a long shot! recency bias (and also just. regular bias) made me rank her much higher originally but technically she is not the most intricate piece so she must sit down here

5: prom queen kurt! dare i say a girlslay on my behalf? i think i dare. every time i see it i think i should do more glosters (glee posters) and then i don't. i could tho they would be really cool (source: dude trust me)

4: churro kiss redraw!!! genuinely Not Sane over this! never have been, never will be! redraws are like crack to me and so is this kiss

3: furtana!! i neglected them for far too long this year but if neglecting them results in art like this i may have to do it again

2: heart kiss <3 if we're being really honest and vulnerable in the chat tonight i think this is technically my best of the brittana kiss screencap redraw things i've done this year? which i did not see coming but i guess practice means refining the process etc etc so. it makes sense ig. mwah to them <3

1: black or white gcv animation <3 it's not what i would call my best drawing (bc it's, yknow, not just one drawing) but it is what i would call the product of a very obsessive thought and some frantic art sessions. objectively it's the coolest thing i've done this year so it deserves the top spot. i'm proud of it i hope to glanimate more next year. also this isn't art but it's a relevant post that i still stand by months later

#md rambles #idk what this is kdfghk i'm so sorry it's 5am and i've spent the past hour ranking these and just saying shit #if i were more awake i would be more specific about actual art things i'm proud of. but i am not. so #sth sth made a lot of bangers this year i think sth sth vv proud of myself sth sth fun list bc i feel like it

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sphxremint · 9 months

Text

(man this art is really old but im usin it anyway lol)

☆ Heya heya一it's me, Mint!

I'm the guy that does the funny draws (and music (and sometimes edits)).

Some of you have definitely heard that line way too many times before. Or some of you probably just know me as the Simple Yet Stupid guy. If you haven't seen me before, congratulations! You've successfully met "that guy" (me) for the first time!

This is my tumblr. I reblog stuff I think is neat and post art/music/stuff I like once every [unspecified time frame]. I dipped (sort of) from Twitter (ah, sorry一ECKS [X] as it's called now) like a year or two ago because some guy had too much fun ruining it. Now I'm here more often!

Right, this is an intro post. lemme get on that...

☆ cool things you should know

• I'm 19 (born July 4th, on MINT day. not whatever the hell independence day is. eugh)

• I'm aroace (certain of it now! we out here)

• I'm black (there's like no way to make this funnier it just is what it is)

☆ some other neat stuff

• I draw!

I'm definitely not consistent with it at all, but I'm trying, 'cause it's fun and I like doing it. I may be into a lot of medias too, but I'm mostly an oc artist, and it's a curse I will bear until the end of time

• I make music!

I'm also not very consistent with it, but I'm a bit less open about it... I do it for fun, really; though it's more of a personal thing compared to my art.

• My timezone is CST

...which is about UTC -05:00. if you need to know that. i know we all got varied timezones

• I'm very good at being inconsistent!

(such as basic punctuation and grammar. cause thats important. sometimes i'll actually use apostrophes and sometimes ill just completely forget mid-sentence. lmao)

☆ my 5 core interests

aka. The main things I like! I switch between the 5 of these on a whim. Be ready when it happens.

• Sonic The Hedgehog (he's just THAT GUY, yknow. just a guy who loves adventure. ultimate life forms and whatnot)

• Kirby (i'd forfeit everything for him. #1 blorbo living life)

• FINAL FANTASY (esPECIALLY XIII and XIV. but it's mostly XIV. two lalas ready for Dawntrail WOOO)

• Celeste (#1 game ever. i love everything about it so much, i naturally get my friends to play it. i'm also pretty good at speedrunning. smile)

• and anything osc! (though I'm mostly just in the "surface layer" of whatever the fandom is right now. bfdi, ii, boto, ppt2... funny shows go brrr)

☆ cool and awesome tags

□ #mint.txt = probably some random garbled text i spat out one night

□ #mintdraws = i sure do! and you should go look at it!

□ #mint.png = funny image included (not guaranteed)

□ #mint.mp3 = rarely use this but i still want people to know i make music

□ #mint.ask = because i get those. sometimes art, sometimes stupid funny stuff

□ #simple yet stupid = yeah its for those funny objects i talk about. i put this one here just in case

□ #mint's expoboard = i'm probably talking about one of my ocs

☆ and some extra stuff i guess

□ my sonas and stuff

if you need that

□ my carrd!

go read it cause most of my extra links (and contacts) are already there

□ my toyhou.se

Did you know I have a toyhou.se? because I never shut up about my characters, and sometimes people just need the Repository of Information. well... here it is.

Okay. I'll update this post more as time goes on, but... that's about it. That was probably like a read and a half. oops.

Remember: if you do follow me, you are (unofficially) officially consigning yourself to my presence and any stupidity and/or brainrot that follows.

...if that's cool with you. lmao =ᴗ=)b

(big shoutouts to the old pinned i had. you will forever be missed)

last updated: 01 / 15 / 2024

#i typed this all at like 2am in the morning auugh

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zaacoy · 1 year

Text

It's 3 am!! You know what that means!!! Delusional tang posting time let's gooo yippee!!!!!!

Said I'd dump S4 Tang thoughts here a week ago and then I just kinda. didn't. oopsies, but I can start now!!

S4 Spoilers below the cut, you have been warned!!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE OF SORTS AFTER WRITING THIS: WOW IS THIS LONG. I got a little too silly and put too many thoughts down at once oops, prepare to be reading for a good minute you have been warned (twice!!) aughdhsj

My thoughts are so disorganized rn prepare for a rollercoaster of whatever my brain spits out!!

First. Ep 4 intro.

Good to see that Tang still can never have a nice landing unlike everybody else

THE CROCODILE??????? HELLOSNBD?!?

MF GETS BODY SLAMMED?????

THIS SCREAM????? He gets to scream for like, 2. SECONDS. BEFORE HE GETS?? DRAGGED RIGHT BACK INTO THE WATER????

ALL OF THE SCREAMINGSG??? THE BASS???? THE FUCKING GUITAR????????

I can't. I cannot. convey in words how incredibly funny this scene is to me. I can't sit through it and not laugh or start kicking my feet it's just THAT good. They had Z E R O business doing this to him, this scene had absolutely NO REASON to be THIS chaotic but they?? did it anyway????? jgkngm???? I love this show sm

He's so pretty in this specific lighting I need to draw him like this soon or I will explode wowowee

HE DEFLATED. SO FAST.

That's such a funny reaction, no more energy just. Whatever. Eat me I guess I don't care just start cooking so pigsy can come back please. He is so funny

weapon. just straight up bonk him into a demon like a plank of wood

Actually now that I think about it why? Did nobody untie him??? they found him and just left him like that?? Neither of them ever untied him if memory serves I'm pretty sure pigsy did it while he was cooking. ???

"To get crammin' APPARENTLY! HMPF!"

"Oh, haha! I'M the dinner! Excellent."

Good to see Tang's sass and saltiness never leaves, they should let him be sarcastic and talk back more often

Done with all of your bs glares at you glares at you glares at you glares at y

What comes around goes around!!! Their dynamic is fun wahoo

He noms very happily!!! omnomnom (he deserves it at this point mans DESPERATELY needs a break)

THEY DID NOT HAVE TO CALL HIM OIT LIKE THAT DHDHJS PLEASE????? JAJJS The little sad noises he makes as he gets torn into, little guy behavior tbh

"-stop gorging yourself on our rations!" "I'm sorry! It's just I'm stressed okay!?"

STRESS-EATER CONFIRMED!!!!!!!!! YOU AND ME BOTH BUDDY. No wonder he married a cook, wonder if in college everytime Tang was mega stressed about finals or a big deadline coming up (the latter could be true later when he's out of college and had a job too) if pigsy, assuming he had the time, would just make a meal for him. They probably wouldn't be able to spend much time together in that situation so making him something when he knows Tang is stressed seems like a realistic thing for Pigsy to do in order to subtly show he's there for support when need be. Tang pays that kindness forward by actually paying his tab for once coughs

"HEY! I so to am perfect!" (S1)

"hmmmm, if I wasn't so cool and relaxed all the time I'd be reeeeeally worried about the consequences of this" (S1)

"I know my issue is my self confidence" (S4)

(Can't find a way to make it a gif) Tang: so ""relaxed"" in his current situation that he is shaking hard enough to vibrate in place, coupled with the look of completely calm and collected and ""coolness"". (S4)

Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night chan- gets shot

ACTUALLY THo S4 fleshed him out as a character so much, especially when we compare him to how he started all the way back in S1. Beforehand in earlier seasons everything was mostly stable for him. Same places, same people, consistent comfort, it gave him some sense of security that could have made his "calm and relaxed" demeanor viable back then. But now that everythings been thrown up and ruined by powers out of Tang's control, his bubble of safety no longer stands. We begin to see it in season 3 with lady bone demon's attacks + macaque's continued interference. Tang seems a lot more on edge near the latter half of season 3 then he had been all of the rest of the show and there's definitely WAY more panic present as one bad thing after another unfolds, notably when he is quite literally moved to tears as he's forced to forge the samadhi fire. It does kind of consistently crop up during other prior conflicts too but much more mildly and on a more temporary scale. Now, seemingly not long after the lbd incident as mk evidently still hasn't pushed past lbd all that well, his entire framework of stability is practically smashed into pieces. He's stuck in a scroll, he loses track of all of his friends for a while, there is no comfortable safe space for him anymore(a book can probably only realistically tell you so much about a setting, probably not enough to evoke the same familiarity that his house or pigsy's shop does), he literally almost gets eaten, there's ANOTHER massively powerful divine being threatening the safety of his loved ones along with his own, and on top of it all he can't get his powers (which are evidently in DIRE need right now) to work half the time. He had built a dependency on the routine of mundane life beforehand and S4 completely shatters that routine and subsequent stability. It's no wonder why we begin to see him crack, it make sense why we're just now seeing the actual depths of his lack of confidence and his anxiety. This has always been a problem more likely than not, he was able to cope before, or at least hide it, but he can't now. His inability to use his powers properly inevitably worsens the problem. He needs to use his powers but he cant. He needs to be useful, he has to be, but he just can't no matter how long or how hard he tries. Every odd is against him, it's getting to him and it shows. I love how lmk doesn't try to hero-speech it's way out of every character's doubts. I love how they let him break down several times throughout season 4, I love how they let him show emotional weakness not as a plot obstacle that can be ✨✨completely overcome with the power of believing in yourself!! And friends!!! And flashy magic!!! Yayyyyy!!!✨✨ but as a fundamental part of Tang that he just has to work around and deal with it. They obviously can't get too in depth into it (and probably never will) because a. This is a kid show made by Lego, and b. Because he's, y'know, not the main character, but the attention they did bring to it is nice.

I have. Accidently written a paragraph. Oops. uhhhh tldr: They did a good job portraying Tang's internal struggles through S4 while not invalidating his character and behavior from previous seasons. When you kick the rug out from someone's feet and then throw them off a 400ft cliff into a pit full of spikes they're going to be at least a little bit terrified out of their mind and are probably going to understandably show weakness somewhere along the way, I'm glad Lego takes a moment to explore that with Tang at least a little bit.

OKAY!! MOVING ON!!! SORRY ABOUT THAT GHFJJ

Mentioned this earlier on twt but the death grip he maintains on his staff when he gets really scared is a nice touch. He has a history throughout all 4 seasons of latching onto objects or people when he's distressed, a small but fun character detail!

LOOK AT HIM. GIVE HIM A BREAK HE HAS EARNED IT AND HE NEEDS IT PLEEEASDE IM BEGGING SOBS FORERVRRHRHNM

"ahh I'm sorry I'm just- I'm having a melt down and I have no idea what's going on and I just-!"

In line with what I ranted on about for an entire essay earlier- explicit mention of a meltdown! It's quick and short but the fact that they called it a meltdown at all is impressive, this is the first time I can remember a show calling one as such. A meltdown in response to a seeming extended lack of security and a disconnect between Tang and what's going on around him is realistic too, I think at least. The scene right after this when the gang (mostly sandy) does their best to bring Tang back down to earth for a moment was nice, they're such a supportive friend group I love this little found family

DHDJJ???? THIS ENTIRE SCENE WAS GREAT BUT THIS ONE??? WHERE HE JUST GOES ZOOMING THROUGH THE AIR SCREAMMG?? IS HE OKAY?????? HSJH

I HAVE. HIT MY IMAGE LIMIT UMMMM.

I had more to say and I will probably say those later!! For now this is it, it is almost 6 am I should really go to bed augahh

Remember!!!!: live, laugh, tang lego monkie kid. GOODNIGHT!!

#TLDR: Tang.#Can you tell how insane I am about this fictional man #I have so many thoughts about him in my head at all times and S4 made that so much worse!!! grahgahhmnmmmnn #tang lmk #tang monkie kid #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #I am so eepy rahh #Zaacoy rambles🌙

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winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts · 5 months

Text

pinned post! latest edit: April the 10th

Howdy!!! I'm Doc, or Wolfy, or whatever name you want to use. Any pronouns are fine!

I have an unreliable sleep schedule/forgetful/message notifications don’t show up- so if you need me uhh keep yelling until I notice? Aaahhh...

Not a system! I have a dozen sonas/fursonas (not sarcasm) (I hope you plural peeps have a good day-)

I put reblogs in a queue or schedule!! If I like an art post of your but don't reblog, don't worry, it'll be out in a week or so.

Tag list, ordered by most common to least common in each category. Starting with my personal tags, then general navigation tags.

Art tag: wolfys art (my art), 2022 artchive (specifically my art from 2022)

Cool art by pals: grand showcase of arts

Doc says something: wolf chats

All art month challenges: Just Here To Have Fun

Kiley and co stuff (commonwealth setting): little wastrels

NOTE the au is getting rebooted so old stuff is not canon.

second fallout au (island setting, custom location for an rp): badlands crew

My main story stuff, not fallout: Split Fates au

posts that vaguely relate to my ocs: jeanposting, jerposting

Other aus- SCP Jailbreak!, museums monsters n marvels, voidspace crew, When Multiverses Collide, eternal spring

I kind of hit my story with a hammer and it shattered into a million pieces. oops

Misc fandom tags: fallout, whump stuff, bg3, doctor who, ace attorney, hermitcraft, qsmp, warrior cats, good omens

Misc common tags: described (posts with image or video ID), michaelnordeman (his animal photography), birds, food

important tags: reblogging for future reference (general tips), promo (friends news), boost (donation posts), flashing, eyestrain, psa

"You have to reblog!" And similar phrases: rebait

Subcategories of tips tags: drawing tips, writing tips, fave (personal favourites), cooking tips, health tips, tech tips. (more to be added soon)

Note- these are not tagged reliably: ghouls, zombies, blood, skeletons, suggestive, insects, spiders, guns, drug use, smoking, all caps, partial nudity, death

Characters that frequently appear are... ( updated 10 April, more descriptions to be added soon, please hold!)

Rabbit: A human-sized anthro rabbit! Light grey and white fur, green eyes. Usually in a grey suit with a green tie and gold scarf- or in white robes with gold jewelry. Sometimes drawn with long curved gold colored horns.

Wolfy: A cartoony anthro wolf, exactly five feet tall! Medium grey fur, has oval mirrors (with two shine marks) in place of eyes, and has grey and purple wings and a bird tail over his wolf tail. Always in a medium grey suit with a purple tie. Sometimes drawn with deerlike antlers.

Parsure: Looks like a blonde and light skinned human dude with dull blue eyes! He has shoulder-length hair with jagged bangs, and has a goatee and mustache. Always wears jeans, a white t shirt, red converse shoes, and a leather jacket. There's a large red bullseye on the back of the jacket. There's patches on the left sleeve: A red X symbol, and a night sky with a black stripe down the right side. On the right sleeve: A yellow axe symbol, and grey hexagon with a blue and orange background.

Jerome Drew (should be updated to Jerome Heulwen, I'll get to it soon), <- my main guy :D

Rev -(belongs to hollyrosecheeks),

Vince: A were-snow leopard! Um. Imagine a snow leopard, but with gold eyes.

Jodie: A were-pine-marten! Like a ferret but bigger, brown furred with white patches on the face and chest.

Kiley: (new oc, aaaah- I will redo my reference soon)

Jean: (probably) human dude with short brown hair! Wears a full mask that looks like a crow’s face. Usually wears a white shirt, grey vest and tie, grey slacks, and brown dress shoes. Sometimes wears a simple black jacket. Or a scarecrow's hat and black gloves.

Psst if you have a spare dollar can you pass it along to my pal Fern!

Cashapp: cash.app/$AustinToach

PayPal: paypal.me/AustinStidham

Venmo: venmo.com/u/Austin-Toach

uh if you show me you've donate something I'll draw you a doodle-

End of the post! Have a good day, wahoo

#pinned post #ocs should have names capitalized in the post tags!#some characters' names change depending on au and time. uhhhh don't worry about it :]#pulling a “that's not my neighbor” and switching up “always” and “usually”- it's lore important ahaha

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lorillee · 11 months

Note

btw can you tell me about how that cat is an incel

AAAHGH i typed out this whole thing and then tumblr screwed it up and deleted everything. wailing and gnashing of teeth. but thats okay. ill explain it again. anyways to any of my 5 remaining warriors mutuals if you see this post and i got something wrong i apologize to be honest its been like a decade since ive read the books that encompass this whole mess. anyways. ive provided a helpful relationship map to give you some visualization and keep these people straight

ok. so tldr. sort of. actually not really but whatever. so basically brambleclaw is a special prophecy boy who gets a dream from the dead ancestors being like "ok you need to go 🚶💼🚗 on this journey 😤💥😎 and do some stuff 😌✨🌠" and brambleclaw is like "ok got it boss 🫡" and goes on his journey to do some stuff. its not relevant to the love drama. squirrelflight invites herself along and they end up becoming friends and later start dating. at some point after this brambleclaw starts striking up a relationship with his half-brother and squirrelflight is Not A Fan partially because his half-brother is Kinda Shady and partially because shes suspicious because of his dad, who is also brambleclaw's dad, who really sucked as a person.

so squirrelflight tells brambleclaw that he needs to stop hanging out with his half-brother, and brambleclaw gets mad and accuses her of suspecting him purely based on their dad (and if she doesnt trust the half-brother because of his dad, what does that say about their relationship etc etc). so they get into a whole fight about it and its a drama and they break up. in the aftermath squirrelflight starts hanging out with ashfur who is Just Some Guy and they start dating. meanwhile leafpool gets a dream from the dead ancestors thats like "ok so get this 👀🤯💥 squirrelflight and brambleclaw 😳👫💖 are like . totally destined to be together forever 😌✨🌠" and leafpool is like "ok got it boss 🫡" and tells squirrelflight. squirrelflight is like omg for real???? and tells brambleclaw and they get back together. ashfur fades into irrelevancy.

shortly before this, however. leafpool breaks off her illegal relationship (illegal because 1) shes a priestess and cant get married or have kids and 2) because the guy shes dating is from a rival clan) but later finds out - oops ! - shes pregnant. unfortunately this is now. a problem. in the meanwhile squirrelflight gets a dream from the dead ancestors thats like "okkkkk so like 😳😭😔 sorry to break this to you but ummmm 🤯💀🧍‍♂️ youre infertile 😌✨🌠" leafpool asks squirrelflight to take her babies and pretend that they are hers and brambleclaws and squirrelflight is like "got it boss 🫡". so squirrelflight lies to 1) the clan 2) the babies and 3) brambleclaw that they are hers and brambleclaw's children. no way thisll go wrong right 😎👍

so things go normally for a few years and everything is fine. then one day theres a huge storm after a drought or something i think and the entire forest catches on fire. squirrelflight is trying to get the kids out (they are adults now) and its a problem but hey look! ashfurs here to help! oh- oh wait whats . whats he doing ummmm. so basically ashfur says something to the extent of "you ruined my life i hate you so much im going to kill your kids in front of you to make you understand how i felt every single day" completely unprompted and squirrelflight is like "um. uhhhh ok well have fun with that because theyre not even my kids 👍" <- clearly last ditch effort to get ashfur to leave and ashfur is like "wait what for real? um. well okay bye then" and leaves.

one of the kids who is a massive stickler for The Warrior Code has 57 moments in a row though because she has just been alerted to the fact that she is an Illegal Baby and Should Not Exist and murders ashfur to prevent him from revealing the truth about them but then ends up having a Mental Illness Moment and tells everybody about leafpools illegal relationship babies at the monthly gathering of all the clans and runs off into a cave and fakes her death kind of. its a whole thing

#lorillee.txt #ask #cartoonrival #also i want you to know that the dead ancestors lied to squirrelflight about her being infertile #and then later get mad at her for taking the kits and lying to everybody about it #dont ask me how this makes any sense at all. it doesnt. starclan sucks #lorillee.png #<- also. i guess

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cyborb · 5 months

Text

there have been some asks sitting unanswered in my inbox for an embarrassingly long time so I'm just going to go through and answer a bunch of them at once haha.

Sada and Turo / Paldea

now that the dlc is out I can play around with my own version of paldea's story and the professors (that I may or may not actually talk about), but they won't be in the rainbow rocket stuff with supersymmetry. "officially" at least. maybe I'll draw something for fun, but I don't intend them to actually be in rr like the rest. they're more interesting to me within the story of paldea, especially with the ai aspects and ... other things going on there.

but to the anons who sent me these: those ideas are cool and honestly you should pursue them yourself!

Lusamine

absolutely yes. in the base universe, her "unification" with nihilego kills her pretty quickly. iota lusamine is luckier since her nihilego seems to prefer keeping her around for longer. slow-acting vs fast-acting poisons, I suppose. by the time lusamine is picked up by rr, it's been about 6 months since she became jellyfish. who knows how much time she has left but her mental (and physical) state will continue to deteriorate along the way. an unsurprising consequence of willingly jumping into the mouth of a parasite

possibly? I haven't given that much thought tbh. considering lillie and guzma's proximity to lusamine when she goes motherbeast, they'd both be lucky to make it out alive hahaha. but I could see all three of them trying to help people and pokemon in the UB-overrun world too

honestly, no clue. I don't even think she knows, and she definitely doesn't care. who needs regular pokemon when she's got ultra beasts now! if lillie is still around she might have taken in a few of them herself though.

Other AU stuff

I've actually made a post about team galactic here!

one fun fact about each of them:

maria/mars is giovanni and ariana's first child, and she ran from her home in kanto when she was 16 to become a pokemon trainer and get away from her parents. sorry silver (she hasn't contacted him in a while).

juno/jupiter makes traditional (hisuian) style pokeballs as a hobby despite the fact that they absolutely are not practical to actually use anymore. but they look nice

sterling/saturn helps run the in-universe equivalent of pokemon showdown because he's a nerd. he enjoys simulated battles more than the real thing most of the time

great news: the rainbow rocket invasion all his fault!

by that I mean the choice of the base universe for invasion wasn't entirely arbitrary; rainbow rocket didn't just Show Up and hope this universe had what they wanted. beforehand, someone from rainbow rocket (either giovanni or archer, maybe even colress) scouted things out, and approached faba for information about the general state of the world and necrozma in particular. faba essentially sells out the universe (and aether's work with necrozma) in exchange for the promise of power and whatever tantalizing rewards the rr emissary offers haha. it's possible some of this involves planting a device to let rr come back to the right universe when ready too. what faba is up to when everything is going down in rr is not something that I've thought about, but he definitely gets found out for his actions leading up to it. oops!

unfortunately probably not. the rr stuff is happening on the other side of the planet and I can't think of a situation which might result in them getting to meet up. I'm not enough of an expert on the two of them to say how such a meeting would play out either, but it would definitely be... interesting considering their own universe's version of the other person has been dead for several years.

rose would probably be the least upset about it but cyrus wins the award for most upset (he has control issues). lysandre absolutely would have the most violent response to it though

Compliments

while I'm not going to share the collection of complimentary messages I've gotten over time, I want everyone to know that I really appreciate hearing that you enjoy my ideas and art! it's encouraging and I'm glad people like my pokemon playground hahaha. and that applies to tags too! it's always great to see... I don't always get around to actually answering the stuff in my inbox (whether it's actual questions or otherwise) but rest assured I do see it!

#not art #asks #rr supersymmetry

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ninjadeathblade · 7 months

Text

Moulin Rouge Discotrain AU (part thirty one)

Summary: (Post-game canon) The Conductor and DJ Grooves agree to finally work on a movie together. They come up with 'Moulin Rouge', a musical drama filled with romance. Over time the two directors grow closer and discover that maybe they don't hate each other as much.

Beginning | Previous | Next

Word count: 1,179

Warnings: Snatcher says half an actual swear *gasp* (don't blame him though, in context there is reason for it)

Author's notes: Games night is here. Fun fact: don't trust Snatcher to play Monopoly. He does cheat, despite his claims. Anyway, enjoy!

Grooves let out a sigh, staring at the finally clear guest room and the hallway outside of it, which was now cluttered with boxes.

“You didn't have to help,” Grooves commented to Conductor as the owl walked past into the guest room.

“I did.” Conductor shrugged, beginning to make the bed.

“No, no, don't-”

“No. I will. You should sit down and rest. You've been cleaning this place since way too pecking early this morning,” Conductor interrupted, walking back over to Grooves and putting a hand on the penguin's chest. “Take a break.”

“Run away with us for the summer, let's go upstate…?” Grooves joked and Conductor shook his head gently at the Hamilton reference.

“You'll never let me live down my musical past, will you?” Conductor chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to Grooves' cheek before he went back over to the bed.

“Never.”

“At least sit down while you do then.” Conductor threw a pillow in his direction.

Grooves caught it, walking back through to the living room.

“That, I can do,” he called back to the owl, lying down on the sofa.

It felt like only a few minutes when there was a knock on the door.

“Grooves, I'm sure your nap was nice but you should probably wake up,” Conductor teased as the penguin opened his eyes, staring around the bleary room.

Conductor passed him his glasses before heading over to the door. “You said you sleep without them.”

“How long have I been out?” Grooves questioned, getting up and following his partner once he'd put his glasses on.

“Only a couple hours,” Conductor answered. “But you needed it.”

He opened the door, staring up at their guests. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Empress and Snatcher walked through the door.

The two of them almost matched; Snatcher in a dark purple hoodie and Empress in a dark purple version of her previous coat.

However, Snatcher looked incredibly different to before.

His right eye was a light blue, matching coloured scars striking across the right side of his body like bolts of lightning. A couple streaks of the same blue tainted his dark curls.

“What happened to yer?” Conductor asked the ghost bluntly.

Grooves subtly jabbed the owl in the side, hoping he would take a hint.

“Just a little accident. Nothing serious,” Snatcher bluffed, laughing nervously.

“No, that's very clearly not-”Grooves elbowed Conductor in the ribs. The owl frowned at him but stayed quiet.

“Let's just play some games,” Empress stated, carrying boxes of games through to the living room, Snatcher close on her heels.

“What was that for?” Conductor hissed.

“He clearly doesn't want to talk about whatever it is,” Grooves whispered, concerned gaze following the ghost's retreating figure.

“Sweet apartment,” Empress stated.

Grooves looked back at Conductor, gaze imploring him not to ask further questions.

“Fine. But you owe me one,” Conductor grumbled, walking into the living room.

Something made a crashing noise. “Oops.”

“You better pay for that!”

“Okay, okay! I will!”

“You cheated! You shouldn't have had enough money to afford that!” Empress accused, glaring at Snatcher. The ghost shrugged as he looked at the Monopoly board.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Snatcher said, voice lilting slightly.

Grooves put a flipper around Conductor as the owl curled up against his side.

“I feel like we should've chosen a less competitive game,” Conductor laughed quietly. “I did say about Scrabble.”

“Diamond, I hate to tell you, but Scrabble is also a competitive game,” Grooves replied.

“Not if yer smart. Then it becomes a game where you always win and no one else beats you.”

Grooves chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to the owl's head. “We'll have to play some time soon. I'm sure I can give you a run for your money.”

“Empress is a sore loser!” Snatcher announced, picking up the cat's money and throwing it in the air.

"No, I'm not! You're just a lying cheater!” Empress growled, pushing the ghost onto the floor. “I want to play something else!”

“Sore loser!” Snatcher repeated, earning a swipe at his face.

“Cheat!”

“Loser!”

Empress and Snatcher began playfully taking shots at each other.

“I’ll go check what other games we've got,” Conductor sighed, standing up.

The owl pressed a quick kiss to Grooves' cheek. “Be back soon, love.”

Grooves smiled at him before returning his attention to their friends.

Empress and Snatcher wore matching smirks, even with the cat holding the ghost in a headlock.

“Go on then Grooves. Spill the details,” Empress prompted.

“You two are older than me, how are you so childish?” Grooves questioned.

“You've got to have some fun after dying!” and “You're childish!” mixed together.

Empress let go of Snatcher, ruffling his hair before leaning back against the sofa.

“So…?”

“So what?”

“So, what's it like now you two are dating?!” Snatcher all but shouted.

Grooves mulled over the question.

“Not that different to before actually. We're more affectionate and have nicknames for each other but that's about it. Not that much has changed,” he mumbled, face heating at the way his feathers ruffled as he spoke.

“That's it?!”

“It's none of yer business,” Conductor stated, walking back into the room with a stack of boxes. “Now pick another game.”

“Oooh, oooh, oooh! We should play truth or dare!” Snatcher suggested, looping an arm behind Empress' shoulders. “C'mon Empress! Tell them how fun it is!”

“He's right, we should play truth or dare,” Empress agreed.

"Empress, truth or dare?” Conductor suddenly asked, putting the boxes down and leaning into Grooves.

“You know what? Truth.”

“How did you get your scar?”

“Dare.”

“Tell us how you got your scar,” he pressed.

The cat scowled.

“I did it myself. I had to look like I could command respect,” Empress admitted, paws fidgeting in the lap.

Snatcher wrapped an arm around her shoulders, glaring at the owl.

“Truth or dare, peck neck?” He spat.

“Dare.”

“Stop being such a di-!”

“Hey, no, there isn't any need for that,” Empress said quietly, shrugging Snatcher away.

Snatcher let out a huff of air. “Fine. Tell us what was the first musical you did.”

“Newsies,” Conductor answered.

“Shut up you liar. The first musical you did was Cinderella,” Empress scoffed, tail winding round Snatcher's back. “Grooves, truth or dare?”

The penguin's face screwed up slightly as he tried to decide. “Umm. Truth…?”

“You didn't sound too sure. But fine. You've seen The Conductor in musicals. Which was your favourite performance of his?” Empress questioned.

Grooves felt flustered as his three friends looked expectantly at him.

“It's hard to choose just one,” he mumbled, hoping to take attention off of him.

“My turn, I pick dare,” Snatcher exclaimed, drumming his hands on his lap and continuing to look at Grooves.

Grooves shrugged, uncertain of what to say.

Conductor stepped in for him. “Don't hug Empress for the rest of the evening.”

The ghost looked appalled, mouth hanging open.

He slowly obliged, shuffling away from Empress.

“I'm sick of this game,” Snatcher pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let's play something else.”

#moulin rouge discotrain au #a hat in time #ahit #ahit au #ahit conductor #the conductor #discotrain #ahit dj grooves #dj grooves #ahit snatcher #ahit empress #the snatcher #a hat in time snatcher #snatcher

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krenenbaker · 10 months

Text

Stop the World - 3: Please

Pairing: Malleus/Cater

Warnings/Features: Angst with a happy ending, (somewhat?) possessive Malleus Draconia, questionably suggestive at the end... but that's COMPLETELY up to the reader's interpretation :)

Summary: Cater and Malleus have found a comfortable rhythm to their lives in their last year at Night Raven College. But as the threat of change creeps closer, their fears about the future do too.

The Couple: Looking ahead, into the future

Notes: Finally, after over a month (oops!), this short fic has concluded! This was a good learning experience for me, and I had quite a bit of fun writing it. It ended up taking a slightly different direction than I had originally anticipated, but I like how it turned out here. :) I know that many of my lovely moots are more 'canon x reader' fic readers/writers, so I really appreciate your support on this 'canon x canon' piece!

Tags: @dove-da-birb, @inkybloom-luv, @silvers-numberonefan, @azulashengrottospiano (if you'd like to be tagged, or not tagged, in the writing I post, please let me know!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Version (ft. all chapters)

After the sun dipped past the horizon, Cater glanced up towards his boyfriend. "What's running through your mind there? You look, like, super serious right now."

"Hm?" Malleus turned his gaze from the sky. "Nothing serious, I assure you. You seem cold, we should head inside."

"Ehh, no, I'm a-okay rn!" Cater shook his head. "But Mal, I've got to know. What were you thinking about?"

"I was contemplating our future."

"Ah."

Cater tore his line of sight away from Malleus' intense gaze, and the air seemed to grow still around them, even though the leaves in the trees were rustling audibly.

Cater then heard a quiet chuckle, before Malleus murmured into his ear, "You now appear deep in thought, Treasure. Is there something troubling you?"

"Oh, I'm just... thinking."

"Well well, I'm not sure I knew you could do that."

Cater turned to face a small smirk. "Hey!" Cater laughed, with a gentle smack to Malleus' arm. "That was totes rude, Mal! I'm wounded!"

Cater's smile faltered, then dropped as he looked off into the distance again. "Malleus, what's going to... no, never mind."

Malleus gave his darling's hand a small squeeze. "Please, tell me."

Giving a gentle squeeze in return, Cater took a shaky breath. In as measured a voice as he could manage, he asked, "What's going to happen to us? Like, at the end of this year?"

Summoning up the courage to turn back to Malleus, Cater looked back into his eyes. "Listen, I don't want to get all sad or whatever here, but, I've been thinking... what if this was a mistake?"

Malleus's expression fell, a flash of darkness crossing his face. "Excuse me?" Does he think we shouldn't be together any more? Or at ALL?

"No, no, no. I mean... ugh, I'm terrible at this." Cater took a deep breath and ran his free hand down his face. "We've got our internships next year, right? And I thought, we probably won't go to the same place. And I mean," he began to speak faster, "I'm used to moving by now, you know? Just going to a new place and leaving people behind and stuff. It's become normal. But I just..." Cater paused, forcing himself to slow down, "I just feel like this time it's different... 'cause I'm with you. 'Cause I love you."

"What do you mean, Cater?"

He used my first name? "I mean," Cater swallowed thickly, "I don't want to leave. I don't wanna leave you. "

Malleus placed his hand on Cater's cheek. "Do you think you must?"

"I...", Cater froze, then slightly leaned into the touch. "I don't know. I don't want to. I just thought I'd need to, I guess, since we'd both be away from NRC next year."

"You're correct about that, I suppose," Malleus said softly. "But, what if... we could intern in the same place?"

Cater's eyebrows rose in surprise, "Wait, pause there. What?"

"I will go where you go. Or you can come with me. If it's alright with you, I want to find a way to remain together, because," Malleus drew his arms around his Treasure, Cater, before whispering, "I love you with my whole being, and I won't lose you. Not now."

Cater's breath caught in his throat. He'd come with me? He wants to stay with me? Nobody, in the dozen or more places he'd moved had ever wanted to stay with him; to follow him. This was new. This was... nice.

"Okay," Cater murmured into the dark fabric on Malleus' shoulder, before drawing back to look into his eyes. "I won't lose you either, Mal. We'll figure something out... together."

A soft breeze picked up a couple of fallen leaves in front of the couple, swirling them in a sort of gentle dance.

"Um, but first, Mal," Cater said, getting to his feet, "Let's go inside. I... actually am kinda cold." Cater held out his hand for his love (even though he knew he didn't need to).

Malleus smiled, taking his human's outstretched hand and standing up. "I thought you may be."

"Oh shush. You and your... what, intuition? Powers? I don't even know, babe. Anyways, do you want to come in for some tea? I think we have time before Riddle would call us out for it being too late," Cater said with a smile.

Malleus dipped his head. "As always, my dearest Cater."

Even if the school year was coming to an end, the love and support that Malleus and Cater found in each other would continue, however they chose to do so. For now, they would simply enjoy their time, their tea, and whatever else the evening had in store.

#twst #malleus draconia #cater diamond #mallekei #malleus x cater #twisted wonderland #krenenbaker's :)#Et c'est fini!#thanks to the people who have read these - I sincerely appreciate it ♡#Danke sehr!#I tried my best with Cater's speech patterns (as he was translated in the EN game) but GOSH IT WAS HARD #also I think need to practise writing things with integrated dialogue #because it took a LOT of brain power for me to figure out how to get the speech and action to mesh in a way that felt comfy to me #but! I'm very happy with how this ended up!#maybe I'll do a bit more poetry next... and then some more prose to practise! hehe! ^-^

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