#and then the people who do show interest are strikingly obvious that they are into the fact I seem much younger

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

I’m wondering what you think about Harry’s public image right now. The way he is seen by the fandom, especially non-het Harries (larries or harries who don’t think he’s straight) and the non-fandom is so strikingly different. I’ve been reading comments on different sites, primarily Reddit and some Twitter/tiktok right now about Harry, and so many are saying he’s queerbaiting. I’ve seen comments that say the only thing interesting about him is the speculation around his sexuality and that’s why he ‘queerbaits’, I’ve seen comments that say without the speculation he would be boring like Shawn Mendes, I’ve seen comments that literally say his outfits are queerbaiting, that he’s straight and playing up the “LGBT” angle for promo. I’ve seen people say that “the straights” eat up Harry’s public image of ambiguity but gay people are tired of it. To me these comments just seem preposterous and almost homophobic. I’m not going to get into a discussion of whether or not real people can queerbait in this ask, but it’s just glaringly obvious to me that Harry isn’t straight but for whatever combination of reasons is not going to fully come out anytime soon, that most likely he enjoys wearing more feminine or out-there outfits and if they also help his promo, that adds to it, and that his public image is carefully crafted to help him maintain a sense of privacy. But that’s how I see it as someone in the fandom. I feel like some people outside of the fandom are getting fed up with him; they’re essentially calling him fake and super calculated. I’m wondering if you think his team should take any steps to mitigate people thinking this way, and what they should do.

So a couple of things - I don't think very on-line queer people discoursing about Harry is his public image. I think it's worth thinking and talking about, but shouldn't be blown out of proportion. I suspect that this group is numerically as small as hard core fans, if not smaller.

I do think the fact that Harry is so vehemently seen as straight by a particular subset of queer people is really interesting. And there are lots of different things you could say (and I was making some of those points earlier).

But generally to me it shows the power of compulsory heterosexuality - the aura that Harry has sex with women is very powerful.

***********

But the question about what Harry and his team should do is a really interesting one. I think it's impossible to answer - because we don't know what the restrictions are (and I think in general 1D fandom is very willing to speculate about what should happen, without thinking about what the restrictions might be).

To me the big question is what is Harry prepared to do, and what is the record label prepared for Harry to do.

It'd be very reasonable if Harry didn't want to talk about his sexuality at all, or only wanted to do it in certain terms. And the record label has invested a lot of money and probably has a very conservative idea of what's needed to protect the fantasy boyfriend audience.

The obvious answer of what Harry could do is to make it just one notch more specific that he was attracted to men. He could have said 'I'm asked about my sexuality more than I should be and I don't want to talk about it directly.' And then covered Charlie XCX's boys (perhaps that would be too many notches, but you get the idea). Or he could have done carpool karaoke with James Corden and James could have said that he was attracted to men and then asked if Harry had ever thought of hooking up with James. There would be options to be explicit that he's attracted to men, without ruffling the fantasy boyfriend audience, and not giving any space for follow up (or even requiring Harry to use words).

But that approach may well be vetoed either by Harry, or people he's working with.

For me the question then becomes - whose advice is Harry taking on this. Because Harry Lambert could give him good advice about how he was seen in queer scenes and how to avoid being seen as queerbaiting. But I don't know if he's in those meetings, or if his influence is restricted to clothes. I'd be worried if Harry was only getting straight people's advice about how to navigate all this.

And one reason I think that might have happened is that we haven't seen the Late Night Talking video yet. Now there are lots of reasons for that (particularly the success of As It Was) so I'm not leaping to conclusions. But one possibility I'm considering at the moment is that the backlash to Harry's comments in Better Home and Gardens took them by surprise, and that there's an attempt to figure out how to mitigate the response in a reactionary sort of way. And that the way they respond to the criticism will be to be less queer. Rather than to be explicit enough in a way that people will understand.

I think it'd be a real shame if that happened (although obviously it's all speculation at this point). And I do think that sort of reactionary response would come from the advice of straight people. But I think it's worth saying that Harry's decision making team does seem to be full of straight people, and that's very much a decision he's made. If he makes decisions based on bad advice because of it, that's ultimately on him.

#Super interesting #like I've said before #I don't feel likewe can know much #until we know if the rumours about the video are true #and if it's going to be released #and we may only know one of those things

[solitearedtori]

tori spring <3

I spend a lot of my free time projecting everything about myself onto my favourite characters, and when doing so with tori I noticed how strikingly similar we are. down to her mannerisms, sarcastic comments and lack of interest in intentionally meeting new people, also, on a more darker tone, having a sibling who outwardly struggled more than you, and therefore your own mental health was greatly ignored for a little too long to the point you reached the stage of feeling entirely helpless and lost in the abyss of self hatred and hiding behind a fake exterior of utter nonchalance. sorry that got personal. but I think its one of the reasons I latch onto tori so much; I get her. I get the way she acts, and the barriers she puts against people and the clear but difficult-to-show affection for her siblings. she cares, but she has never had the freedom or time to express her love in a more obvious manner. and for that she will always be my favourite.

#heartstopper #Alice oseman #tori #torispring #tori spring #kind of vent sorry #comfort #my favourite #best girl #<3

[sarisinema]

The Killer (2023) vs Le Samourai (1967) and Adorno's The Culture Industry

26.03.24 - Blog Post 6

In a recent interview, Michael Fassbender, who plays the main character in David Fincher's latest film, The Killer (2023) talked about the costume choice for his character: He said they chose the killer's outfits from clothes that can be bought from every airport in every country. He even joked about how Fincher wanted him to look like a German tourist, so they went for a regular European tourist look. A couple minutes later, he mentioned about how Fincher was inspired by Le Samourai, Jean-Pierre Melville's legendary film, starring Alain Delon. Fassbender said, "Fincher wanted him as sharp as Jeff Castello, his moves and his tidiness should be cool as Jeff.'' This was an unfortunate thing to say, in my opinion. The Killer was a flop, it was the worst film in Fincher's career. When you watch The Killer and Le Samourai back-to-back, things get even worse for The Killer. Fassbender is not wrong tho, it is obvious that how Fincher was inspired by Melville and tried to create the same props and styles as Le Samourai's. It is easy to spot the similarities between the two films, both of them are about a cold-blooded hitman, which lives a very lonely and tidy life. The plots are also similar, the routine of these men gets interrupted because of a mistake they made- Castello was seen by a woman on the crime scene, and The Killer, let's call him K, missed the shot. The physical appearance of the actors who played the hitmen are strikingly similar, even the gaze, which is cold as ice, thanks to the big blue eyes of the actors. So, why is Le Samourai still an unforgettable masterpiece, while David Fincher's The Killer is such a pointless and bad movie?

First, let's look at why Le Samourai is not an ordinary hitman-thriller, but an emotional movie that speaks to the soul. Jeff, our protagonist, speaks so rarely in the movie that the director is always telling us something through Jeff's interactions with the people around him (mostly his lack of communication) and the decor of his house. This is one of the most important choices that makes the movie memorable - the director shows us that Jeff is unhappy with his lifestyle, but he can't do anything to change it, yet he is too accepting and mature to whine about it. The people in Jeff's world are inhuman, they are either indifferent to crime or they are the ones who commit it. Jeff has also lost his humanity in this order - he keeps a bird in his house, and the bird keeps fluttering and trying to get out of its cage. Jeff doesn't let the bird out, and he himself can't get out of his order. As a result of what happens to him (a woman sees him in the place where he committed the murder), Jeff runs away. Finally, he is able to break free from his wheel by sacrificing himself. Melville never exaggerates, the streets of Paris, which normally look like something out of a painting in a 60s movie, are shown as dirty and dangerous, and the houses are falling into disrepair. Dialog is sparse and used only where necessary. Violence is almost non-existent.

Fincher's K, on the other hand, starts talking non-stop from the very first scene of the movie; he tells us a lot of useless things about his work ethics and his routine, and the funny thing is that K's life, which is supposed to be "interesting", does not make the audience curious at all. We hear what our character, who doesn't have a very interesting personality anyway, is thinking and doing and we continue to watch the same thing on the screen. This fools the audience and gets quite boring. In addition, K's constant change of countries, luxurious locations, expensive gadgets and fancy weapons are thrown at us in every scene, and Fincher, who does not give us even a second to wonder where and on whom those weapons and gadgets will be used, reduces the element of curiosity in the movie to the finale: Will K be able to reach the people who attacked his wife? K, as an American, opens all doors, gets everything done with money and violence, and at the end of the movie he returns to his luxurious villa in a tropical climate to be with his wife, whom he left all alone during the hospitalization.

The Killer doesn't even manage to be a badly Americanised copy of Le Samourai. Sure, there are a lot of things that have been Americanised, because everything in our lives is now of the same standard. In Adorno's theory, the culture industry, there was talk about films and how they had caught up with Hollywood clichés and so on. I think Le Samourai and The Killer are the best examples of this cultural change. As the world gets smaller and smaller, so do the emotions and our reactions to them. Like K, every aspect of the film's story and the character's psyche should be very obvious to us, the stupid audience, and we need violence and fancy effects to keep our attention on the film. It is almost hard to watch how a character that has to be written to be taken seriously by the audience (because this film is not a mockery) is an American man who dresses like a tourist and eats hamburgers in Paris. I really did consider the small possibility that this film could be a mockery of the 'hitman' or 'killer' trope, but as a teacher of mine said, 'you should set the mockery to mock something' - so unfortunately Fincher saw his character as his version of Jeff Castello, who is a product of the culture industry. A man loves money, even though he lives inhumanely because of it; shows no remorse, always finds his way, and indifferent from every other successful American in today's capitalist world- Jeff Castello without conscience and dollars. Everywhere he goes, even when he changes continents, is always the same, the food, the living styles, the money- the world of American movies gets smaller and smaller each day just like our world. What a shame!

#the killer #david fincher #le samouraï #jean pierre melville #adorno

[thedaveandkimmershow]

August was definitely an odd month.

It also felt like two months. There are definitely events during the early part of the month that seemed like they belonged in July. There are even things that happened after the fifteenth that seemed of another age.

The summer/fall thing had a lot to do with that oddness, I’m guessing. We are, after all, now living in the season of Fall.

Booooooooooo. 😡

August was a busy month for Linzy. She played gigs at The Cottage in Bothell and The Rustic Cork in Mill Creek where we enjoyed a lovely evening with dear friends.

The band she's in, The Little Lies (a Fleetwood Mac tribute band) played to a packed Taste Edmonds crowd on the 11th. The other band she's in, Midnight High, debuted their new album, Swimming Lessons, at the Tractor Tavern in Ballard to a packed house and a lot of love from that audience.

The month was a busy one for me in a number of ways, the most interesting of which was exploring the use of Generative Fill in Adobe Photoshop, Adobe's AI tool that enables serious manipulation of reality. For example, we were at a Public Storage place with friends when I took out a chair, placed it in the middle of the road between two buildings, and had our friend's son sit on that chair with a big smile plastered on his face. With not terribly much effort, I replaced the background trees and sky with a sun-soaked jungle. I also replaced the road with a brighter chunky cement surface and toy dinosaurs running all about.

Seriously.

Toy dinosaurs.

As if they were giant set pieces I'd brought down for the occasion.

Couple weeks later on a particularly bright and hot weekend, I took another photo at that Public Storage, this time with plenty of room for…

A giant public swimming pool.

No kidding. It actually looks like a public swimming pool complete with a net for water sports, barely a couple feet from our van.

I did a bunch of stuff like that across the month, figuring out this tool. Mostly illustration-y things. But those photos at Public Storage continue to capture my attention because of how strikingly real are my additions.

Kimmer, of course, continued her work from home with Ballard Psych. She's also fully gearing up for her Doctoral program at The American College of Healthcare Sciences in Portland. It's an exciting opportunity for her and, from the sidelines, I can see the experience is fixing to be pretty incredible with all the resources they're already making available to her.

For our family movie outing of the month, we all convened at The Crest Theater in Shoreline to watch "Barbie" and compare notes. It's fun to watch, definitely. It's filled with a lot of laugh out loud moments on top of a metric ton of nostalgia. It's creative as hell, great casting (did not see Rhea Perlman coming, for example), wonderful performances all around. Definitely a lot of social commentary that, in a nearly full theater, resonated with a lot of different people at different times according to their experiences... as well as lighting up universals that are obvious (of course) to everyone.

One of my favorite quiet moments of August was a comfy weekend afternoon when Kimmer 'n I drove into Ballard, grabbed some burgers at 'Lil Woody's next to The Majestic Bay Theaters, and drove further west to that spot overlooking Salmon Bay where the water empties out into Shilshole Bay. At that overlook is a patch of grass with a park bench on which we enjoyed a lovely lunch together.

Those sweet moments are not nothing, you know?

Insanely Small World Award of the month goes to Lerin Herzer who opened for Midnight High at their album release show. Lerin, it turns out, is the daughter of Linzy's Jr. High band director.

Dang.

The previous winner, by the way, is Harry Wirth III, Linzy's bandmate in The Little Lies who was also in a band called Molasses, a band in which Linzy's High School band director also played.

Speaking of Linzy's high School band director, he recently referred one of his 2023 graduates to me to talk shop. The student's about to embark on their university experience and wanted to ask questions about being a professional creative. We covered a lot of ground during our conversation and, once again, much to my chagrin, I found myself advocating what once I used to roll my eyes at whenever the Music & Video Business director at the Art Institute of Seattle would bring up his pet advice: networking.

He talked about it a lot.

And we all rolled our eyes.

Only, you know, he was right and even though I frame the advice in terms of community and chasing your career as part of a group with compatible skillsets, yeah.

I'm singing that same old song.

Networking.

So that's it for August (and summer, apparently).

Eight down.

Four to go in 2023.

Onward!

#summer #fall #charlie kester #art institute of seattle #it's a small world #the little lies #midnight high #lerin herzer #salmon bay #ballard #'lil woody's #barbie #crest theater #the american college of healthcare sciences #generative fill #adobe #photoshop #taste edmonds #tractor tavern #swimming lessons #the cottage in bothell #the rustic cork

[riftdancer]

'You think if we smash that guy's glasses, he would just open up a door and have a million of them there, just like that one episode of Spongebob if we continued to break them?' ( I am so sorry Kotetsu that you get him when he's being silly. Also, rip Bunny's glasses lol ).

Unprompted asks | Always Accepting!

It was the third day of the weekday that Kotetsu was on his long trip to figure himself out. An advice given to him by his brother and friends; Japan was a good destination, the mid aged man figured. He’s never been to his ancestor’s country before, only heard about it and learned the language from his own mother. There had been some fun reactions to that fact, when people would ask the raven which prefecture he came from. Disbelief that he wasn’t a local, and was born overseas; guess he has his family and Oriental Town to thank for that and for instilling their habits that wasn’t commonly expressed in Sternbild. Thanks to his cheerful and friendly disposition, some locals had taken to Kotetsu and suggested a bar by the name Crossroads. This worked out perfectly for him, as the old man felt that he could use a drink. He had things to think about, and perhaps being at this place would give him a good space to muse his next step.

Upon stepping into the establishment, he was greeted by a room dimly lite by red lights and a big flashy neon heart with the flashing words [WELCOME]. This wasn’t the kind of place he’d usually find himself in, but Kotetsu wasn’t about to turn his nose up at a local’s recommendation. After taking in his new surrounding, his eyes traveled over to two sets of figures standing behind the bar. An eyebrow shot up at the seemingly high school student before dismissing it. Appearances can be deceiving, Kotetsu reminded himself before looking to who he assumes to be the proprietor of the bar. A woman with short purple hair, dark eye shadows (the lighting was too low to figure out the color), red lips, and garbed in an equally dark kimono and the one thing that stood out was the golden detailing. This person gave the man a flashy reminder of Nathan which easily brought a smile out of him before he sat down at the counter.

With lighthearted banter, greetings and names were exchanged and Kotetsu was given his chosen drink for the night, shochu. He rested an elbow on the countertop, and his chin nestled on the palm of his hand. Another customer had come into the building, carrying a magazine with a strikingly familiar face on it. His golden amber eyes immediately follow the annoyingly, yet, endearing smirk; surprised to see it in Japan and in the bar he visited no less. Well, Barnaby was making some real head turning progress on his late parents work so perhaps it’s no surprise that the young British man was a bit known worldwide. Especially in a country, which Kotetsu assumes to be, more technologically advanced. Once the cover was no longer in his sight, the raven turned his body back forward. It was good to see that the blond was doing okay. The thought of checking up on Barnaby and Kaede crossed his mind, but it would be too early to contact either one of them.

In a moment to himself, he heard the young man speak to him. He assumes it was about the man on the cover, especially since Kotetsu showed obvious interest in it just a second ago. Nostrils flared at the thought, “I’ve seen that show,” he said. It was a spur of the moment sort of thing, when he was surfing through channels and settled on some kid’s cartoon. It dragged out a few good laughs from him, “Hate to break it to you, but the guy ‘s only got five extra pairs and one of the frames got bent.” He smiled at the memory while waving the idea off. “Pretty sure he could afford five or twenty more, though.” After all, Barnaby didn’t seem like he had trouble with money.

#『TORAFU #『WILDROAR #tricksheart #『kupomail #//ooc. i remembered you filled out that one meme thing so I had to do a double check on verses #//so i went with the torafu verse cause i figured it'd fit into persona easily

[frenchtoastie]

Not rlly a post to pay attention to, just being bitter I guess

#just reminded especially today #like it’s a weird dichotomy of being a very romantic/daydreamy person vs knowing it’s probably something I’m never going to get or have #I really don’t think I’m an easy person to love in a romantic sense I’m too difficult to deal with #I just don’t get taken seriously as anything more than a friend not to mention I have so many problems someone would have to deal with once #they get to know me better #like the first part of that definitely stems from me looking and having energy that is much younger than I actually am #people really do think I look 16 or 17 and many think my mental age is about the same #like my coworkers spent four months thinking I was that age #and people my age aren’t looking for someone who seems so young bc they are sensible #and then the people who do show interest are strikingly obvious that they are into the fact I seem much younger #someone gave me their number before right after they said they couldn’t believe I was as old as I am and thought I was much younger? #they told me I had childlike energy? #and so many people see me as ‘adorable and sweet’ and ‘can’t see me as anything more than a friend’ #and it’s so terrible to watch people not taking me seriously at all #I’m not an adult enough for most everyone #and then that doesn’t even touch on any of my other problems #besides the whole mental age thing people wouldn’t get over just the way my brain is anyway is probably so hard to love #the adhd autism is just not practical for any other person to deal with and the ups and downs of everything I don’t want to put #someone through like they shouldn’t have to put up with me at my lowest #no one would want me at my lowest anyway #and then my whole lack of experience I just daydream all the time but I don’t really know what anything is like #I would be a terrible partner to anyone because I don’t really know things I only think I know things from what I’ve read in books and seen #in movies and those aren’t real and I can’t have anything real #and it’s just today that reminds me that it’s not something I get to have and nothings ever going to come close to it #and that really I don’t deserve it either #and no one talk to me about it bc you’re not going to change my mind #and nothing you say is going to make any difference or make anything better

[sleepy-shinx]

Y’all I had a really interesting submas-related PLA AU pop into my head that I wanted to share…

Imagine. One day, Jubilife Village is bustling a little more than usual, with news of new visitors coming into town in the next few days. Sailors, travelers who were only going to be in Hisui for a week or two before setting back out to their next destination.

MC is excited to meet them, interested to see if they have Pokemon and whether they’ll be new Pokemon or Pokemon they’d already seen before. With a bit of discussion with Kamado and Cyllene, both agree to let the MC be part of the greeting party when the visitors arrive.

The day comes, and a boat lays anchor not far from the shore of Prelude Beach. And as a smaller boat with two people aboard lands at the dock, the MC gets their first glance at these two travelers.

Two identical twin women, with long white hair tied back in a braid, wearing white dresses with dark blue accents… one wearing a long sailor jacket in white with light blue accents, the other wearing an identical jacket except it’s dark blue instead of white.

The similarities to the Pearl Clan’s warden of the Highlands are immediately strikingly obvious to the MC.

The two introduce themselves as Isabelle (the one in the dark jacket) and Emily (the one in the white jacket). They have spent most of their adult years sailing between many different regions, as they have a passion for water travel of many different sorts. However, they originally come from Unova (or, whatever Unova may have been called in the past).

And yes, they’re Ingo and Emmet’s ancestors.

I would think they have similar lines that Ingo and Emmet have in regards to the subway, but instead for sailing.

The MC greets them with enthusiasm and offers to show them around the village, and finds that the two young women are extremely kindhearted and fun. While they do have a serious passion for sailing, they also have Pokemon, and are very close to them too. They each have two Pokemon- both have a water type of some sort of course, but also…

A Lampent (Emily) and an Eelektrik (Isabelle).

The MC is very excited to meet both of these Pokemon that they’ve never seen before, ofc. Some info is jotted down in the Pokedex ofc, but they don’t overwhelm the two with questions. Instead, the MC has an idea, and takes the two to the training grounds.

Where they happen upon Ingo.

Ofc Ingo ALSO notices how similar they look to him- it’s way too glaringly obvious to be overlooked. But Isabelle and Emily ALSO notice, and it’s sort of a moment of ‘do we know each other?? are we related somehow?’

With the limited information that all three of them have knowledge of, they don’t come to much of a conclusion, just chalking it up to coincidence or something of the sort.

But this is also the moment where Ingo starts to have some weird feelings. Why does he feel a sense of longing and sadness when he sees them? Why does it make him feel like he’s missing something, something important? Why do their Lampent and Eelektrik feel like familiar Pokemon, even if he didn’t think he’d ever seen them before in his life?

They move past the initial introductions and Ingo starts explaining the purpose of the training grounds and what he does. Isabelle and Emily are very intrigued by the concept of people fighting alongside their Pokemon against other people and their Pokemon, and they say they might try it out at some point while they’re staying in Jubilife, however, they have a goal they’re trying to meet while in Hisui.

They want to find a Dusk and Thunder stone to evolve their Lampent and Eelektrik.

The MC offers to help, and Ingo also decides to lend his assistance as well (he’s the Pearl Clan warden in the Highlands, of course, and as rocky and mountainy as that area is, it’s a great place to start looking for evolution stones- not to mention, he’d be able to ask Lian for help too).

Idk y’all this is purely a Concept atm but I think it could be super fun and a great AU for an eventual #sendingohome reunion with Emmet, too.

I also feel like this is where breeding gets introduced in too, lol. At one point the girls find eggs (that eventually hatch into a Tynamo and Litwick) that they gift to the MC for their help in finding the stones, and then there’s like. A whole sidequest where they study the eggs and figure out breeding LOL. Idk, just another idea that popped into my head when I thought of this-

(ALSO NO SHIPPING. Shouldn’t have to be said but they’re still related ffs)

#pokemon #submas #ingo #emmet #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #warden ingo #pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus #hisui #chandelure #eelektross #lampent #eelektrik #long post #ish

[ateezmakemeweep]

seonghwa x reader x yeosang; love triangle au

word count: 35k

angst, fluff, smut

it was in your first class of the semester, intro to creative writing at nine a.m., that you met kang yeosang.  

you didn’t know what to expect from the college experience, leaving the safety and familiarity of your hometown to come to a new city full of strangers and endless possibilities.

one of them being an all-consuming, butterfly-inducing first love that you missed out on from years of being socially anxious and reclusive.

it all started when you showed up late to your first class, red-faced and flustered and apparently very forgetful.

you sealed your fate the moment you borrowed a pen from the cute boy next to you, sneaky looks and shy smiles eventually morphing into so much more.

september - freshmen year

you’ve seen movies and shows and even heard some things in the halls of your high school about college classes. how they were so much harder than anything you’d been exposed to but also came with more freedom.

you didn’t need a certain color or book for the subject, you could freely leave to go the bathroom or get a drink, you didn’t even have to show up for all the professor cared.

it was also known that there were many different types of people in college: the stereotypical frat boys, boasting about parties and girls as they wore cut-off shirts and showed up to class hungover.

there were the edgier teens and young adults, finding their own look away from the eyes of their parents with piercings and tattoos and brightly colored hair that caught the attention of the older, snooty professor.

and then there was everyone else.

students like you who, maybe, didn’t fit in anywhere yet or didn’t know where they were gonna fit in; but, truthfully, fitting in was the last thing on your mind.

because it was the first day of classes, bright and early in the morning, and you were scrambling into the grand brick building, panicked and breathless, as you searched desperately for room 204.

you set an alarm and got out of your dorm room and everything, a single dorm you are so eternally grateful you secured. but it was a few wrong turns and entering one of the wrong buildings on the other side that landed you your current fate.

winded with messy hair and slightly red cheeks as you entered what you were praying was the right room. the professor was still doing introductions via a powerpoint and barely sparred you a glance, allowing you to easily slip into the first available seat.

you took the professor doing her own introduction and going over the syllabus to catch your breath, calm down and relax yourself because okay, yeah, that was a bit of a mess but you’re here in one piece now.

you made it in without getting scolded, you didn’t fall on your face or trip over the outdated tan carpet and you’re pretty sure no one even noticed you.

“i’ll spare you the ice breakers because i know you guys are gonna get stuck with some in your other classes,” the professor said, another win for you because you can’t imagine anything worse than trying to talk to someone right now.

“i just have a few notes for you to take and then i’ll let you guys go early. how does that sound?”

there’s a chorus of replies muffled by the sound of students shuffling to open their bags, notebooks hitting the table and the satisfying but annoying click of new pens.

it’s upon opening your own backpack that you realized, not only were you late to your first day of college but, you’d forgotten something as simple as a pen.

you rummage through your bag, hoping one just slipped to the bottom and letting out a quiet, annoyed sigh as you come to terms with this. you should’ve just brought your laptop, you already see several other people them so it would’ve been fine.

why do you always have to-

“need one?”

the deep voice from beside you is low and whispered, long fingers attached to a veiny hand offering you a blue pen. you hadn’t even noticed who you sat down next to you, far too consumed in your embarrassment about being late to notice the very attractive, very nice man sitting right next to you.

he couldn’t help but notice you though, if the way your bag hit into his shoulder and the cute little sigh you made when you plopped down right next to him didn’t immediately grab his attention.

his interest was only peeked further when he heard you rummaging next to him, a slight flush on your exposed neck that he can only assume happens when you’re flustered.

his voice ripped you from your frantic searching, eyes meeting his as your breath caught in your throat.

they were deep and brown, with a soft light in them that kept you entranced for far too long. his hair was black and looked soft to the touch, hanging just above his eyes so it didn’t obscure his regal features.

“i... yes please,” you finally answer with a wince, taking the pen from his hold gently. “thank you.”

“no problem,” he responds cooly, keeping his eyes on you for a few fleeting seconds before turning back to the board.

taking notes and focusing on the professor’s voice keeps you occupied most of the time, the pen in your hand and the blue ink on your paper a constant reminder of the person sitting right beside you.

he doesn’t look like anyone you’d ever met before in your life.

sure, you’d had crushes on people from your school back home but that was only because they were nice to you. they weren’t like the majority who made fun of anyone who wasn’t like them - cool and popular and had an interest in going to parties and being social.

there was never anyone who looked like him though, so strikingly attractive and cool even though he’d only said four words to you; maybe this is just showing your inexperience, falling in love at first sight with a person who just gave you a pen and has a pretty face.

“alright we’ll wrap up here. i’ll see you guys next time!”

your professor’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, the rustling of people all around you bringing you back to reality.

you close your book and put the cap back on the pen, grateful you were too distracted by your thoughts to chew it absentmindedly - you probably would’ve had to drop the class if you had to give him back a chewed up, slightly wet pen cap.

you look next to you to see the boy is tucking two books under his arm, about to get up and leave for the day before your lowly spoken voice stops him.

“wait,” you say, quiet but abrupt as he turns around to look at you.

his eyes are soft and glinted with a certain type of amusement, one you can’t quite make out or have the ability to try and determine right now. you can only hold out his pen dumbly, your stare on him blank despite the slight flush to your cheeks.

it only deepens when he holds your gaze, eyes roaming your face before a smile crosses his face and make your heart jump inside your chest.

“it’s okay, keep it,” he says, nodding his head toward your bag.

“oh... are you sure?” you squeak out, “i don’t wanna leave you without an extra pen.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, everything about him, his presence, his laugh, his face making you grow even more out of sorts.

“i’ve got more, don’t worry.”

“oh. well, thank you!” you smile softly, tucking the pen in the pocket of your sweater. “i’ll be sure not to lose it.”

“cool,” he chuckles out, the sweet smile on his face causing yours to widen. “i’m yeosang.”

“y/n,” you introduce sweetly, a lingering silence between you two full of soft smiles and wandering eyes; you aren’t aware of that feeling hanging in the air, something so obvious and palpable when two people are immediately attracted to one another, but he feels it.

he felt it in the way he’d sneak glances at you, your brows furrowed as you took notes or the far away look in your eye when you dazed off with your cheek on your hand.

he didn’t know why he was immediately drawn to you, maybe something about your wide-eyed looks or sweet vanilla scent, but he was sure of two things: he needed to know your name and he had to get here early next class to get the same seat next to you.

november - freshmen year

it took yeosang two months to ask you out.

it proved to be one of the more challenging things he’d done within these past two months of school - not because he was nervous or thought you weren’t interested but because getting you to open up was incredibly trying.

he knew you were interested though, if the way you alcoholism when you saw him or continued to sit next to him was any indication of that.

you learned within the first few weeks of class that he was a freshmen like you, had an older sister who also went to this school and planned with his seven high school friends to all attend college together.

“that’s... kind of crazy,” you giggled, a smile on yeosang’s face hearing your laugh ring through the classroom.

the professor was running a few minutes late, leaving you and him and all your other classmates to chat amongst yourselves.

“do you live together?”

“unfortunately,” he says, the pain in his voice causing you to muffle another giggle into your hand. “i love them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like... constant chaos. and the house is always mess. it’s a miracle that i won rock, paper, scissors for a single room.”

“well that’s good then,” you say with a smile. “i have a single dorm here, too, actually.”

“oh?” he says, head cocked to the side questioningly. “did you wait too long to apply?”

“oh no, i actually... requested it,” you tell him quietly, a slight blush on your cheeks as you explain yourself. “i do better with my own space. i don’t know if i could be around someone, like, all the time. especially if they had different habits than i did.”

“i get that, completely,” yeosang says, a shudder going through him at the mere thought of some of his roommate’s different habits.

like how wooyoung rarely throws out leftover food before putting it in the sick, leaving disgusting, soggy food out that results in all of them gagging and screaming at him.

or how mingi insists on showering in the late hours of the night, the sound of water and pipes squealing ripping him from his slumber.

or, one of his personal favorites, how hongjoong must always have three pairs of shoes stacked on top of the shoe rack - no more, no less, or he says it throws off the rack’s equilibrium and sends him into a frenzy.

“but doesn’t it get lonely?” he asks, “what do you on weekends and stuff?”

“homework, sleep, sometimes go to a coffee shop and do more work,” you shrug, never realizing how much of a reclusive loser you seem to be until this very moment. “i’ve met a few girls from my classes but our project ended a few weeks ago.”

you felt the need to throw that in there, just so he knows you do in fact see other people from time to time.

“well you should come to one of our parties,” yeosang says with a smile.

“my sister’s friend always throws them at his house. they’re fun and don’t get too sloppy since it’s not people our age trying to catch up on the full college experience.”

dread pools in the pit of your stomach at the word party, not being able to picture anything worse than standing in a overcrowded house being surrounded by sweaty, drunk bodies and the stench of alcohol.

but that sounds far too harsh to say to yeosang, instead giving him a small sympathetic smile as you shrug your shoulders.

“i don’t know, i’m not much of a party person,” you confess quietly.

“oh, c’mon,” yeosang whines slightly, swinging his chair to face you playfully.

there’s a glint of something in his eyes, like he’d be fully prepared to beg and plead with you just to see you outside of the classroom or library.

“it’ll be fun! we’ll be able to hang out without finding our voice and engaging the audience.”

you giggle at the words that have left your professor’s mouth about seven hundred times this semester, cocking your head to the side as you looked at him pleadingly.

partially because, if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re gonna crack.

“i don’t go to parties much,” you tell him, a soft sympathetic frown on your face.

you really don’t wanna reject him. you wanna hang out with him outside of this class and school and engaging the audience but why does it have to be in that type of setting?

but it’s not like you can suggest any other setting.

because then it’ll seem like you’re asking him out on a date and that is something you definitely can’t do.

“why? are you scared?” yeosang teases, his eyebrow quirking up along with the smirk on his lips. “i’ll be with you the whole time. you can even meet my friends, they’ll be on their best behavior for you.”

you’ll never get used to the way he says your name. the way his deep voice makes it sound and how butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“yeosang...” you drag out in a slight whine, feeling bad at how eager he’s becoming and how much you really don’t wanna go. but you wanna go for him. you really, really do.

his smile widens at hearing you say his name, the sound of it falling from your pretty lips never failing to give him the same reaction. he wants to hear you say it more, in every way, in every setting, where people and his friends see that you’re comfortable with him.

“please, y/n?” he asks, his face leaning closer to yours.

your faces are mere inches apart, unaware to everyone else in the room sleeping on the tables or texting on their phones.

his eyes are roaming every bit of your face, lips quirked up in a smile that has your eyes falling down to his lips before back to his glinted eyes.

“for me,” he hums lowly, his smile turning to a smirk when he notices you swallow nervously.

“i really wanna hang out with you,” he says, his voice just above a whisper as he speaks to you and only you. “if you hate it that much, we’ll leave and do something else. but i want us to try. i want you to meet my friends and just have fun for a night with me.”

you let out a sigh, the air between you thick and charged as his eyes become more and more hopeful.

“i won’t leave you once. not even to pee.”

you narrow your eyes at him, pushing him back playfully and ignoring the hard muscle under your hand.

“i don’t wanna hang out with you if you’re gonna piss your pants.”

his deep chuckle booms through the room, waking a few students angrily while grabbing the attention of others. but he can only shake his head at you, eyes falling to your lips when he sees you press your teeth into the soft looking skin.

“then it’s a deal. as long as you’re there, i won’t piss my pants. how does that sound?”

you first met park seonghwa at that party on a friday night.

he was just in the midst of the many introductions and first impressions of yeosang’s seven roommates, sealing his fate as yeosang’s incredibly handsome but standoffish best friend.

you were more so focused on how handsome and happy the black-haired was to see you anyway, a smile lighting up his face the second he saw you emerge from your car.

driving yourself was a sure fire way to not drink and get shit faced, release your ever present desire and crush on yeosang in the form of a sloppy drunken kiss and embarrassing, stuttered confession.

“hey guys, this is y/n,” yeosang said, his hand guiding you by the small of your back. “the girl from my class, who-”

“you haven’t stopped talking about? yeah, we figured,” the friend he introduced as wooyoung chirps, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “you’re just as pretty as he said, y/n. do you want a drink?”

you can barely respond to the happy, chipper boy next to you, too distracted by his words and the pink flush creeping up on your cheeks.

“i... uh... no thank you,” you finally stutter out, an awkward giggle leaving your mouth. “i drove myself here so i can’t drink.”

“now why the hell would you do that!” wooyoung yelps, throwing you an incredulous look before punching yeosang in the arm.

“um, ow?!” yeosang says, a smile pulling at your lips at the sound of his voice.

“why would you invite her and not offer her a ride, you sick fuck? now she can’t drink and have fun.”

“i’ll still have fun,” you reassure wooyoung with a sweet smile. “i don’t drink much anyway. or come to parties, for that matter, so this is all gonna be a new experience.”

“oh shit, seonghwa, you hear that?” wooyoung says, nodding his head toward the dirty blonde with a sour look on his face. “she’s a recluse, too.”

“don’t call her that,” yeosang snips at the same time seonghwa says “don’t call me that.”

wooyoung only rolls his eyes before promptly getting whisked away to dance by mingi and san, leaving you and the others huddled around the couch and side table littered with their beers.

“i’m sorry about him,” yeosang says, breathless and defeated in a way only his oldest friend can make him. “he has no filter or knowledge of boundaries.”

“it’s okay, i like him,” you smile, your eyes meeting his and causing your heart to jump.

he looks better than he usual does if that’s even possible, his black hair hanging low and the faint smell of his shampoo wafting in your nose.

he’s wearing the same soft and sweet but amused expression he always has, the strangest mix of someone who looks like they’d be complete trouble but also someone you could bring home to your parents.

“then you’d be the only one,” yeosang chuckles out, the black-haired turning his head to his friend sitting on the couch. “right, hwa?”

“right,” the man’s deep voice booms, your eyes meeting at the same time.

he’s just as striking as seonghwa but not in such a boyish way. there’s a deep, brooding intensity to him that scares you ever so slightly, like he’s just as hard and cold as his expression says.

“do you wanna go meet the others?” yeosang asks, ripping your gaze away from seonghwa. “i think hongjoong and jongho are around here somewhere.”

“oh- sure,” you smile, looking back to seonghwa to see his eyes already on you. “nice meeting you, seonghwa.”

he hums a response before lifting the beer bottle to his mouth, legs spread and neck rolling to the side as if to deter anyone from sitting near him.

yeosang’s hand finds its way to the small of your back again, the warmth seeping through your shirt and making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“don’t mind seonghwa, he’s a grouch at these,” yeosang says, a small giggle leaving your mouth as you look back at him.

“he seemed nice,” you assure him quietly, your face way closer to his than you anticipated. you can almost feel his minty breath on your skin, warmth all around you as he guides you carefully.

“they all do.”

“good,” yeosang smiles, his thumb rubbing along your back before stopping you in front of two boys playing beer pong.

“you fucking idiot! you suck!”

“fuck off, this is my first time and i’ve gotten more than you!”

you and yeosang share a look of amusement before he clears his throat, the taller boy’s head snapping toward you both. his eyes light up in some sort of recognition, dropping the white ping pong ball and ignoring the way it bounces onto the floor.

“getting your ass handed to you, i see,” yeosang quips, jongho rolling his eyes before holding his hand out to you.

“i’m jongho, yeosang’s coolest and most talented friend.”

a smile lights up your face despite the more crowded and loud area, taking your hand in jongho’s as you introduced yourself.

“you guys are in the same class, right? tell me, how much does yeosang hit his head falling asl-”

“hey, yeosang!”

all of you crane your heads toward the new voice, a group of guys with red, glassy eyes and shaggy hair looking at yeosang expectantly. you don’t recognize them from any of your classes or around campus, figuring they’re older seniors or friend’s of his sister.

“we’re gonna smoke in the back? you wanna come?”

you’re all too aware of the hand on your back moving to your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in a way that’s oddly reassuring in the moment. like he knows this area is louder and more crowded and making you ready to bolt.

you’re only not because he’s next to you and his friends seem incredibly happy to meet you.

“nah, i’m good,” his deep voice reassures.

you watch the boy’s gaze shift from yeosang to you, eyeing your body up and down before it lands on your hips. a smirk crosses his face and he nods his head, an amused “ahh, okay,” leaving his mouth.

there’s an immature and embarrassing chorus of “oohs” and “ahh,” like the grown college men are actually in a class of immature elementary schoolers who just got in trouble.

yeosang only rolls his eyes and flips them off, your eyes widening just as he turns to you with a soft smile.

“my sister’s friends. they’re cool, just stupid as shit.”

you bite down on your lip so you don’t burst out laughing, giving him a small nod that makes his smile widen.

“you wanna try playing beer pong?” he asks, “i’ll drink your beers so you can’t use that excuse.”

your eyes narrow as you pinch him arm gently, his arm knocking into yours as he narrows his in return.

“fine,” you say, “but i’m gonna be bad. i’ve never played before.”

“jongho plays every weekend and is still terrible,” hongjoong says, patting you on the shoulder reassuringly. “so it’s fine.”

“i’m not terrible!”

but come to find out, after nearly three rounds, he was pretty terrible. either he was pretty terrible or you were the fastest learner in beer pong history at this institute.

“you’re gonna be bad?” yeosang mocks with a smirk, your hands awkwardly bumping as you walk around the block.

the house had gotten far too stuffy and crowded after the second round, the noise growing louder and bodies growing closer to you in a way that made you incredibly nervous.

it was fun at first, even you can admit that. but once it got too loud, your discomfort started to show itself.

your wandering eyes, your teeth in your lip, the way you were no longer laughing or high-anniversary hongjoong despite being on different teams. yeosang had caught on immediately, deeming the third game your last before you took a break outside.

the cold air was refreshing and just what you needed but yeosang’s warm body next to you is nice too. the way your cold hand grazes his warm one, the way you’ll look at him any time it happens and catch him already staring at you.

the way, if it wasn’t for him pushing you out of your comfort zone, you would’ve never gone to an unfamiliar party or played a round (or three) of drinking games.

“i didn’t expect to be good, if you could believe that,” you giggle softly, biting down on your lip as you watch your feet. they’d almost be in sync, if you weren’t a naturally fast walker and yeosang had a slower, smoother swagger of a walk.

“i don’t know if i can,” he says, his voice teasing and light as you walk in the darkness. “beginners luck maybe but it seemed like more.”

“well i’ll probably never do it again so i’m glad we discovered this tonight,” you say quietly, a small giggle leaving your mouth.

lost in the way your heart is pounding and butterflies are in your stomach, you don’t realize yeosang isn’t walking until he pulls you by the elbow gently. your back hits in front softly, your eyebrows furrowing as you turn to look at him.

you’re greeted by a look of mock hurt, yeosang’s eyes staring down at you causing another small smile to grace your face.

“what?”

“i thought you’d come back next week,” he says, voice so soft and sweet it makes the butterflies act up even more; he shouldn’t sound like this when he can also sound so scary and intimidating, the deep tone of his voice never failing to send your cheeks blazing.

“we had fun, no? i really like hanging out with you, y/n.”

for a moment you think you ruined something that barely started to build between you two. that the fleeting look of interest in his eye is gonna be shot to hell because he thinks you’re rejecting him in some way.

but you like him.

you really like him and you really like hanging out with him - you just don’t wanna do it in such a...crowded setting.

“i liked it, too, yeosang,” you confess immediately, faintly aware of his fingers toying with yours. “but... parties aren’t my thing. it got too crowded and i just get uncomfortable but i really liked hanging out with you.”

now he’s gonna think you’re stupid. silly and stupid and, quite frankly, weird that you can’t be in a normal setting for college students. maybe you should’ve just pushed through it, maybe you should’ve just-

“so no parties next time?” he asks, the hand toying with your fingers finally fully grasping your hand. the move makes your heart jump in your chest, the perfect fit of warmth and strength in your hand making you bite back a smile.

it doesn’t stop the blush from crossing your face, though, beyond grateful for the darkness in the sky right now.

“we can just hang out us, too. see a movie, go to dinner, whatever you wanna do.”

“so like a date?”

you don’t know why you blurt that out but you’re beyond embarrassed when you realize you do, your eyes growing wide and face heating even more; if the ground swallowed you up right now, you wouldn’t even mind.

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth and it only makes you more embarrassed, your gaze dropping and head falling ever so slightly.

he crouches so he’s staring up at you, a teasing smile on his face that brings a frown to your lips.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i-”

“yes, a date,” he says, successfully cutting you off as he rises to his full height and lifts your face to look at him. his finger’s resting under your chin and he’s standing even closer to you, eyes roaming you in such a way that makes you stare back dumbly.

“let me take you on a date. how does tomorrow sound?”

your eyes roam his for a few silent seconds, half because you’re in shock and half because you’re still embarrassed, until you realize he’s standing there awaitingly.

eyebrow quirked cockily and eyes full of amusement, like he somehow already knows you’re not gonna say no to him.

“i... tomorrow’s good,” you finally say, not being able to help the big smile that crosses your face.

the sight causes his heart to lift in his own chest, leaning down to press a soft and surprising kiss to your cheek. it’s simple and chaste and sweet but it makes every bit of you feel even more warm and happy, excitement bubbling inside you as he pulls back and interlaces your fingers together.

dinner and a movie turned into a very impromptu trip to the store for blankets, food and a picnic basket.

the restaurant yeosang planned on taking you to, a new italian restaurant in the center of town, had a two hour wait and the new romcom that followed was sold out for the night, leaving you and yeosang in his car trying to come up with a new course of action.

you insisted that you didn’t care what you did, that you could just go back to your dorm or his apartment and order take out or watch a movie there.

but he noticed you looking at the sky absentmindedly, a far away, fascinated look in your eye at the few visible stars and had an idea of his own.

he refused to tell you what you guys were shopping for, just that you’d see when you got there and could guess as you went along. it had all been so strangely intimate and domestic, yeosang pushing the cart as you threw things in after looking at him pleadingly.

“y/n, i told you to buy the whole damn store if you want. you don’t have to look at me like that over a box of cookies.”

you narrowed your eyes, insisting you will absolutely not do that.

“i just don’t know why you’re not letting me pay for anything. not even gas,” you whine.

he rolls his eyes silently as he pushes the cart along, a smile pulling at his lips as he walks past you.

“and you haven’t even told me what we’re doing!” you yelp after him, running after him like a child who doesn’t wanna lose their parent. he cranes his neck back as he raises an eyebrow, ushering you along to “find out what his genius plan is.”

when he goes down the bedding aisle telling you to pick out the fluffiest blanket, you look at him with suspicion all over your face. a smile pulls at his lips as he ushers you over himself, his hand lingering on your waist.

“this is the nice kind,” you tell him, a happy smile on your face even though it’s white and could very well be stained and destroyed.

“then put it in, pretty girl,” he says lowly, a squeal threatening to leave you as as butterflies erupt in your stomach. a smirk crosses his lips when he sees you get flustered, tightening his hold on your waist for a moment before dropping it entirely.

his real course of action starts when you guys are done shopping, fruits and cookies and crackers stocked in the cart along with a hidden gem he snuck under the cart tray.

it’s by a stroke of luck that, when you guys pass the bathrooms, you ask if it’s okay if you run in there quickly. he tells you to meet him in self check-out as he pays, hauling ass to the register and sticking all the items in a reusable bag.

you come out with a sympathetic smile, asking him for the tenth time if you could please give him some money for tonight’s date.

“absolutely not,” he insists, grabbing your hand so naturally, it’s like you guys have done this for longer than two days. “it didn’t go the way i intended so i have to make it up to you.”

“no you don’t,” you whine quietly, looking up at him as a biting gust of winds sends you shivering. “this is fun, too. you’re just nice to be around.”

a smile lights up his face as he peeks down at you, his hold on you tightening before you quickly reach his car.

you ask where you guys are going for half the ride, a mischievous and coy smile on your face as you beg him to tell you where you’re going and what you’re doing.

you face him the entire time you do so, your fingers toying with his on the middle console. he doesn’t give you any hints but makes sure to keep his hand in yours, soft, sweet chuckles leaving his mouth when you let out more whines and groans.

“just a little longer,” he insists, the warmth of the car and his hand causing your head to rest on the seat.

it’s all very comfortable and calm, the quiet hum of his car nearly lulling you to sleep until you feel the car stop.

your head pops up and your eyes widen when you see you’re down by the beach, about an hour from your town and causing your eyes to gape at him - he just drove this far for the beach in the middle of november.

“the beach?” you ask, a confused smile tugging at your lips. you love it here and you’re certainly not mad, you spend most days in the summer down here, but you guys definitely can’t go in the ocean right now.

“yup,” he says simply, turning off the car before silently getting out. you watch him through the window as he opens the back door, carefully taking out the bag full of food and blankets before making his way to your side.

you send him a smile when he opens your door and extends his hand, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth as you take his hand. he interlaces your fingers and your hands swing between you two, the chill from the ocean biting and cold but also slightly refreshing from the car’s heat.

“so...” you say once you two stop on the sand, the grains lumpy under your sneakers. you’ve never seen the beach this dark and desolate and it would absolutely unnerve you if yeosang wasn’t beside you. “what exactly are we doing here?”

“you mean you don’t wanna swim?”

your expression causes him to chuckle, disconnecting your hands to lay out a blanket on the sand. your next expression, however, warms his heart more than he’s ever felt before.

your eyes widen as they look at him, a surprised and excited gasp leaving as he pulls out a medium-sized picnic basket.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.”

you look up to see the soft smile he’s sending your way, his hand reaching out to cup your cold, red cheek. his thumb rubs over the cold skin for a few seconds, like he’s testing the waters to see if this is too much too soon.

the way you lean into him makes his heart start to pound just a little bit, his head cocked to the side as his eyes roam your face - you look so pretty, even with early signs of windburn.

“of course, pretty,” he mumbles quietly, that word again causing the butterflies to return. “thank you for coming on this date with me.”

you eat your sandwiches and fruit huddled under a blanket together, him wiping a crumb from your face and you throwing a stray piece of cheese at him when he calls you messy.

it’s all very tranquil and comfortable, like you guys have known each other for longer than two months. it’s still just enough time to still be unsure though, if your touches are too much or the way you’re looking at each other is setting yourselves up to be hurt.

you couldn’t care about any of that right now, though, laying down on the blanket and looking up at the sky with yeosang by your side.

you started off close, arms brushing before they eventually stayed glue to each other, and now you’re even closer. your head is just mere inches from resting on his chest, a shiver running through you that acts as the catalyst of him pulling you closer to him.

“c’mere” he mumbled lowly, your body immediately moving closer to hm until his warmth and woodsy scent surrounds you. you smile into his sweater, toying with the ends before his large, veiny hands covers your smaller, cold one.

“this was a really smooth idea, you know,” you say after a few moments of silence, eyes threatening to closer and body relaxing if you continue to lay here in the most comfortable silence of your life.

“oh?” he says, hearing the smile in his voice.

“yeah,” you say, tentatively turning to look up at him. there’s a look in his eye that makes you feel comfortable enough to rest your chin on his chest, your eyes briefly falling to his lips. “i think this was better than dinner and a movie. the stars are really pretty.”

a small smile grace his face as he looks at you, hand reaching up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. all of his moves and touches tonight have been slow and gentle, like you’re a piece of glass he has to be fragile with.  

you’ve never been treated like that before and it makes your heart flutter, the sweet look in his palpable even in the darkness.

“they are,” he mumbles, his eyes not leaving you as his hand gently moves down your face.

your skin is smooth and cold and he doesn’t think he ever wants this moment to end. the closeness, the wide-eyed look you’re giving him, the way he feels so content and at ease, it’s like he doesn’t know how he lived peacefully before this.

“when’s our next date gonna be?”

a smile lights up your face as a cute giggle leaves your mouth, his hand on your chin constricting your movements ever so slightly.

“this one isn’t even over,” you tease lightly, eyebrows raising playfully. “what if when it ends, you don’t wanna see me again?”

“and why would that happen?” yeosang asks curiously, genuinely confused and positive that that wouldn’t be the case. because as he pulls your face a tad closer to him, your amused expression dropping to one of a surprise, he’s certain of two things.

he’ll never get tired of seeing you and he wants to kiss you right now.

“because, right now,” he starts again, voice low and deep that effects every part of your body. “i wanna kiss you more than anything. and then make sure i see you soon, as soon as possible, really, so i can do it again.”

you swallow nervously as you look at him wide-eyed, the confidence and sureness in his words causing your eyes to drop to his lips again.

you meet in a kiss half way that’s just as gentle and sweet as it is fulfilling. it’s a kiss that shows it’s your first time kissing each other but that’s what makes it so nice for both of you.

it’s slow and chaste but everything about it is pure. there’s no other intention than just kissing, testing out and acting on the attraction that was building the moment you saw each other.

he moves you on your back gently to hover over you more comfortable, your eyes closed as your arms wound around his neck. he doesn’t even make a move to deepen the kiss in any way, his tongue barely flicking out to trace the outline of your lips.

it’s then you pull back breathless, looking at him above you with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest.

“i... i want that, too,” you admit quietly after a few seconds, his eyes on you and yours on him.

because you wanna see him again, you wanna see more of his smile and hear more of his laugh and get to know the boy who briefly his way into your heart and mind so quickly.

“good,” he mumbles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek before pecking the other one with a smile. “that makes me happy.”

you wanna kiss him again but he flops back down beside you before you can daringly initiate one, pulling you atop his chest again as he wraps his arm around you.

it takes everything in you not to fall asleep right there and then, feeling so comfortable and safe beside him, you’re excited to see how your next date is gonna go with him.

febuary - freshmen year

your second date turned into many more, becoming more comfortable and familiar with each other until, one night, he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

it wasn’t anything grand, just after a night of late night drives and fast food run. your feet were up on the dash and you fed him salty, fattening fries with the moon as your witness.

he looked over at you occasionally, watching as you sipped from your drink or took a bite of your sandwich and realized in that moment, he needed you to be his.

officially.

because as far as he was considered, you were his and he was yours after your first date stargazing.

“y/n?” you hear him say, your mouth still connected to the straw as you guzzle down your soda. you move your gaze to see him looking at you, nervously swallowing your drink as your eyebrows pull together.

“what?” you ask, immediately wiping at your face and mouth. “is there something on my face?”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head, eyes roaming you for a few more seconds before his hand is resting on your face. the movement causes your heart to stutter, eyes widening and heart starting to pound.

you hope he can’t hear it. you think there’s about a 40% chance that he does and those odds are way too high for you.

“i like you,” he says.

the confession is short and sweet and everything about it is genuine. the way his voice drops and he’s looking at you with such a soft fondness, you can’t find the words to respond.

“i really like you, y/n,” he mumbles, his thumb slowly caressing the side of your face.

every stroke of his finger makes your heart pound more and more, your eyes looking up at him with a palpable look of, both, fear and fondness. because you like him, too. you really, really like him but that scares you a little.

so does the way he’s looking at you, touching you so softly and sweetly and not tearing his gaze away from you.

“i want you to be mine,” he finally says, breaking the silence in the car. “will you be my girlfriend?”

his friends took the news of your relationship just as you expected, excited and overwhelmingly supportive, with a few lingering eyes that went unnoticed by everyone.

but that’s because he made sure to keep it that way.

you didn’t go to yeosang’s often but when you did, you made sure to talk and hang out with each and every one of them. some of them were crazier and chattier than others but you found it all very endearing - no matter how overwhelmed and scared it made you.

seonghwa was the only one who seemed to be on your level, able to sit in a room and observe without saying much unless directly spoken to.

you haven’t talked to the handsome boy a lot, just casual greetings and goodbyes, but you just knew you were intimidated by him. he always held such a stern, hard expression on his face, dignified and serious in a way that just didn’t seem to match the group.

the only times you’d see him crack a smile when the boys would start brawling or hongjoong said a corny, uncharacteristic joke.

he did’t make you feel uncomfortable or unwanted though, he always said hi and always made you feel welcomed by making extra food for you or automatically setting an extra spot for you.

it was subtle but it was nice, always making you feel just a little more welcomed by yeosang’s friends - but when valentine’s day came, yeosang did everything in his power to let his roommates know they were not welcomed in their own home for the night.

“what?!” wooyoung screeched when hongjoong broke the news to them. “where the hell are we supposed to go on valentine’s day as seven single losers?! and then get a hotel?! are you nuts?”

yeosang only stared blankly at the boy as groans of protest were heard from the others, grumbles of “who said i’m single?” and “i’m not a loser,” throughout the  apartment.

“when did i say you could never come home you dramatic fuck?” yeosang sneered, “i just asked for a few hours!”

he had been tormenting himself for weeks about what to do for valentine’s day  with you. you insisted over and over again that, really truly, you didn’t want to do anything.

but he thought you deserved it and he’d never actually had a girlfriend during this god forsaken holiday - he had to try it at least once and what better time than with someone like you?

“that might be the problem though,” seonghwa said to him one night, after hearing his friend carry on for hours and hours.

yeosang looked to his friend on the couch with a confused expression, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes.

“she doesn’t like crowds or loud noises. you think it’s really a good idea to bring her out to a restaurant or public place on valentine’s day?”

naturally an extrovert, yeosang would’ve never thought that to be an overwhelming or distasteful prospect. the booming voices of people and laugher and music was something he’d loved all his life but, seonghwa’s right, you don’t like that.

you didn’t like it at the party and you don’t like it here. you don’t like when a restaurant or movie theater is too crowded, always choosing an area that’s more secluded and quiet.

“shit, you’re so right, hwa,” yeosang says, slapping his friend on the arm gratefully. “maybe i’ll just make her dinner here. we can stay in, that’ll be nice, right?”

seonghwa gives a disinterested shrug and yeosang can see he lost his friend already, wondering how the dirty blonde even knew that until he remembers, he’s the same way.

avoids crowds and big outings like the plague, only humoring them because they’d all annoy the shit out of him if he didn’t. and he thinks if seonghwa had a valentine, he’d wanna do the same thing with them.

“okay, okay, okay,” wooyoung says, the only one of the seven that had shit to say per usual. “we will go out and get shit faced if you insist. cry about our sad single lives and the fact we’re not loved this year. but... i ask that you save some left over food and buy us at least two drinks.”

hongjoong knew to rush the boys out of the apartment in a timely fashion after that, already seeing in his mind the brawl that wold ensue between yeosang and wooyoung - and once that happens, everyone else will pick sides and create more chaos.

it leaves yeosang with a little over two hours to prepare the house and dinner, lighting a candle and throwing nonsense into any closet that would fit in until the aroma of spices and flavors filled the air.

he told you to come at seven on an empty stomach, that he’d be providing drinks, dinner and dessert and to not even try bringing him a gift the same way you requested; but when you show up at seven on the dot with a cute little pink bag, he sees you did’t listen either.

“baby... i told you i didn’t need anything.”

“and i said the same thing,” you whine, poking him in the stomach lightly as you walk through the apartment.

it’s the most spotless you’d ever seen the place, a soft touched smile on your face as you picture him scrambling to clean and get the boys out.

“you even cleaned.”

“please, i made the boys do it before i kicked them out.”

“yeosang!” you squeal, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend of two months. “you didn’t have to do that!”

“believe me, i did,” he assures, pulling you by the hand to the table set for two. he pulls out your chair and you bite back a smile, mumbling a quiet “thank you,” as you watch him prepare two plates of food.

the idea of this always embarrassed you, a cheesy romantic dinner with candles and chivalry and a boyfriend who looks at you so lovingly. but now that you’re here, you know you’ve never felt this happy before.

that seeing him do this for you and only you is one of best feelings in the world; you’re still not crazy about valentine’s day, you find it all very cheesy and dramatic, but you think it just has to do with the fact that you’re with yeosang is why you’re so happy and touched tonight.

“this is good,” you hum through a mouth full a food, a smirk on his face as he reaches over to dap at your messy lips.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you answer through narrowed eyes, yeosang’s deep melodic laugh quickly melting your annoyed expression way.

“you look pretty.”

your brows pull together in confusion, slurping noodles into your mouth at the exact moment he says that.

you look down at your outfit in contemplation, a simple comfortable outfit you were excited to wear when he asked if you wanted to stay in for valentine’s day.

you were shocked when that was the plan he came up with, knowing that yeosang enjoys going out and socializing every day and night; but that’s what happens when you’re good at it. when you’re so charismatic and joyful and just so naturally draw people into you.

he asked if you wanted to go to dinner or a movie or do a crazier type of date but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. just told him he can plan it and you’ll go along with whatever he wants.

you ended up getting a text from him asking if you just wanted to stay in. that he’d cook for you and you guys could just hang out and watch movies as long as they weren’t cheesy romantic comedies.

“why do you look so surprised?” he chuckles, ripping you from your thoughts as a small, shy smiles finally rises on your face - you don’t feel very pretty, in fact, you thought you actually looked kind of sloppy.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, a blush creeping up on your face as you twirl your noodles.

you feel his gaze boring into your face, pressing your lips together before finally raising your eyes to him.

“what!” you squeal, face heating up even more in a way that causes a deep, melodic chuckle to leave yeosang.

“you’re cute, that’s what,” he says, eyes roaming your face before they fall on the small, pink gift next to you. “and it’s because you’re cute i’m not mad you got me that.”

you follow his eyes to the bag by your elbow, huffing as you meet his mock harsh gaze.

“how could i not get you something?” you whine. “you never let me buy anything ever! and you made all of this food.”

he watches as you slurp up the last of your food, smiling gratefully at him before standing up from your chair. you take the bag next to you and pad over to him shyly, holding out your hand awaitingly.

he looks at it before meeting your gaze, eyebrow quirked with a smile pulling at his lips.

“what?”

“i wanna give it to you before i do this dishes.”

“like fuck.”

your eyes widen as a laugh bubbles out of your mouth, smacking him in the arm lightly before he loops an arm around your waist. you fall into him with a squeal, your heart stuttering when you’re suddenly in his lap and he’s smiling down at you.

“i- it’s only fair,” you manage to stutter out, feeling silly for being flustered over being in his lap. “you cooked all of this for us.”

there’s a pout on your lips that he can’t help but notice, next to the wide-eyed innocent shock that’s always behind your eyes.

when he pulls you in his lap the same way he did now, watching you shift and move on him in ways he doesn’t think you realize what you’re doing.

when make out sessions turn more intense, his lips trailing down your neck and his hands squeezing your hips that has tiny, small pants leaving your mouth.

when he gets more bold and tells you all the things he wants to do to you when you’re ready, lowly mumbled in your ear so he can pull back and see just how red and lustful you are at the thought of his head between your legs.

he didn’t wanna rush any part of your relationship in that regard.

one because he liked you, he really, really liked you and it wasn’t about that for him, and two because he just knew you hadn’t done much before and didn’t want you to feel pressured in any way.

it didn’t stop his own desires from surfacing. from him getting hard with you on top of him and jerking off to the thought of you when you two would part ways.

it’s feelings he’s trying to push down right now, your wide-eyed look staring at him as a soft, sweet smile pulls at his lips.

“and i’ll clean it for us, too,” he mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist loosely before his eyes move to the bag - the disdain in which he looks at it could only be described as incredibly dramatic.

“once you see what it is, you’re gonna feel bad for looking at it so meanly,” you say with a swat to his chest, dangling the bag in front of his face.

his interest is peeked, a mischievous look behind his eyes that makes your cheeks flame. a soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes the bag from your hand, carefully taking out the festive pink and red wrapping paper.

the first thing he feels is cool metal, his hesitant gaze move toward you only to be met with a soft, encouraging smile. he rolls his eyes playfully, unveiling the gift that has his heart jumping in his chest.

it’s a framed photo of you two he’s never seen before, you smiling at the camera and him smiling at you as his arm rests around your shoulder.

he recognizes it from one of the parties he took you to a few weeks ago, the pretty red dress you wore with black tights under leaving him unable to tear his eyes away from you all night.

there’s even picture proof right in front of him, his gaze so soft and sweet on you he feels the slightest hint of an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

“you looked so pretty that night,” he mumbles lowly, a low, short chuckle leaving his mouth that has your stomach swooping dangerously. “who took this picture?”

“who do you think?” you quip sarcastically, remembering half the night you were hiding from one particular friend with black hair and a high-pitched laugh.

“wooyoung’s stupid ass,” yeosang grumbles, his finger sliding over the cool metal of the frame.

he has a lot of pictures of loved ones and likes documenting moments with family, friends, even the people he meets once but has a great experience with. but this picture is by far his favorite, the way a smile is stretched across your face and how comfortable you look beside him.

“thank you, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i love it, my new favorite picture.”

“i wrote something on the back, too,” you tell him sweetly, cheeks warm as you watch his eyebrows pull together.

he looks at you for a few moments, smiling when your lips quirk up and you nod your head encouragingly.

when he flips it over, he sees your neat handwriting in red ink with i’s darted with hearts.

i really like you, too :) happy valentine’s day ♥

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth, cheeks turning pink as he throws his head back and looks at you fondly.

“i never said anything after you asked me out because i was too nervous and shocked,” you tell him honestly, his smile widening as he watches you speak. “so i just wanted to assure you.”

“thank you, baby,” he laughs out, placing the picture down and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. “i’m glad you’re letting me know two months into this that you do in fact like me.”

a squeal of protest and defense tries to leave your mouth before he shakes his head, cutting you off with a kiss to your lips that you immediately meet. it’s chaste despite the way you’re in his lap, your mouths parting and his tongue licking along your bottom lip.

“your turn for a gift,” he says when he pulls back, both of you slightly breathless. “go wait on the couch.”

“but i wanna do the-”

“i’m just gonna stick them in the dish washer,” he tells you, the look in his eye proving you’re not gonna win this conversation. “just find something for us to watch, okay?”

you stare at him for a few seconds, his gaze and face unwavering causing you to let out a groan and jump off his lap. he smirks to himself as he begins to clean off the table, watching you pad over the couch to turn on the tv.

you seem comfortable in his house.

you look like you belong there and that makes his heart pound in his chest the whole time he puts the dirty dishes away.

he sneaks into his room to grab your gift before joining you, plopping down on the couch next to you and causing a tiny, surprised squeal to leave your mouth.

“you scared me!” you giggle, a quiet “sorry,” leaving his mouth as he starts to  dangle a small white bag in front of your face. your eyebrows pull together as you snap your head to him, a content, almost conniving smirk on his face.

“yeosang...”

“i never said dinner was your gift so stop looking at me like that,” he says, his hand on your cheeks squeezing them together lightly.

your lips are pushed together and pouted and he has to resist the urge to kiss them, your eyes shooting daggers into him the only thing holding him back from doing so.

you take the bag with a small sigh, your eyes softening when he smiles down at you.

your heart nearly drops when you see a small black box wrapped in the white, glittery paper, your wide eyes meeting his that makes him throw his hands up innocently.

“not an engagement ring, don’t worry.”

a snort leaves you as you hit his arm playfully, licking over your lips before opening the box with shaky hands.

the first thing you notice is the amount of diamonds.

small, sparkly diamonds in a crescent moon shape that makes your eyes widen. it’s shining under the faint light of living room, the tv blaring and candles from the table filling the room with the aroma of cotton candy and sugar - courtesy of jongho’s love for festive candles.

“yeosang...”

the gift leaves you just as speechless as it does emotional, tears pricking your eyes because while you love it and you’re so grateful, he didn’t have do this; you didn’t expect any gift from him since he cooked you dinner tonight.

“do you like it?”

“of course i like it, i love it,” you’re quick to say, the feeling in your chest the biggest indication of that. “but i didn’t need this, yeosang. it’s too much.”

“it wasn’t,” he insists with a small, half-amused pout, his hand running through your hair before caressing your cheek gently. he smiles when you lean into his touch, thumb running along your smooth skin.

“i saw it and i thought of you.”

you look from him down at the necklace in your hand, a small smile on your face at the memory.

your arms grazed as you laid out on the blanket together, the cold chill in the air bringing your bodies closer and closer together. neither of you even noticed until the warmth of other’s skin sent shockwaves through you, a blush on your cheeks and a shy smile on his face.

“this was kind of better than dinner and movie i think,” yeosang’s deep voice says, breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over you. you rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him, a small smile on your face as you nod your head.

“i think so too,” you say sweetly, sticking your cold hands under the blanket. “definitely the best first date.”

a soft smile crosses his face, his cold hand cupping your cheek as his gaze roams over your face. the light of the moon is the only source of light tonight, shining in your eyes with a look that’s making his heart pull in his chest.

he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, the fascinated, content look on your face as peered up at the sky. take in the sight of shining stars and the crescent moon and the dark waves crashing on the shore.

it’s a sight that’s gonna remind him of you now. the moon and the stars and the distinct feeling of being content and at ease on the beach at night.

“good,” he says with a sense of finality, pressing a sweet, chaste peck to your lips. he smiles when you meet it back hesitantly, everything about it innocent and slow and just how he wants to pursue you.

“the moon’s gonna remind me of you now so i hope our second date goes well too.”

“our second date went well,” you mumble, toying with the necklace in your hand as you observe the amount of diamonds.

you’re almost uncomfortable at the thought of having something like this around your neck, knowing it was expensive and that you’ve never received a gift like this before.

“it did,” he says, the slightly crestfallen look on your face casing him to frown. “do you not like it? is it cheesy?”

your face falls the second you hear those words, the rapid shaking of your head causing a smile to pull at his lips.

“no! no, no, no, of course not,” you’re quick to reassure, guilt building in the pit of your stomach.

“i love it. i really, really, love it and it’s so beautiful. but i didn’t need a gift like this, yeosang. i feel bad that you got this and i got you a $15 frame with a secret picture.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he rolls his eyes, shutting you up with a kiss to your lips. his hand weaves through your hair and you make a tiny noise against it, clutching the necklace in your hand tightly.

“i wanted to get you it,” he says when he pills back, slightly breathless as he looks down at you.

“it wasn’t about the money. i love that picture and what you wrote on the back,” he teases, your eyes narrowing despite the embarrassed flush on your cheeks. “so don’t feel bad and please accept the gift, baby.”

he must see something in your eyes that shows him he won, a proud smirk on his face as he takes the necklace from your hold and brings it around your neck.

his hands graze your hair before touching the sides of your neck, the feel of his skin on yours causing you to bite down on your lip. his smirk widens as he struggles to clasp the necklace, all nervous feelings subsiding when a small giggle leaves your mouth.

“are you having a tough time?”

“no,” he grumbles, another small giggle leaving your mouth until you’re suddenly pushed down on the couch - necklace successfully on and back pressed up against the cushions.

all laughs and smiles are completely wiped off your face with the pressure of his body on yours, his smirking face above you causing your breath to quicken.

“oh? are you having a tough time now?”

he sounds so cocky and teasing, it should make you narrow your eyes. tease him with just as much of a conniving, wise-ass tone and smug look. but instead, your stomach swoops and your eyes move to his lips and like there’s a break in a dam, your mouths meet in the start of a fervent kiss.

he holds himself above you, tongue slipping in your mouth as he swallows your small, quiet moans. his hand trails itself down the side of your stomach to rest on your hip, the pressure of him and his lips on yours all consuming.

your hand travels to the back of his head, tugging lightly at the strands before a squeal leaves your mouth.

his deep chuckle rings through the quiet apartment as he lifts you up, plopping you down on his lap before connecting your lips again.

it’s the fastest you both have ever moved, your hands toying with the bottom of his shirt while his hands grasp your hips tightly. pulling your body closer to his  and moaning into his mouth when you rub against him a certain way.

you feel him smirk against your lips, pulling back every so slightly to catch the growing hint of lust and desire in your gaze.

“oh? that feel good?”

your cheeks flush at the tone of his voice, swallowing the embarrassed lump in your throat as you nod your head timidly.

“let me know when you wanna stop,” he mumbles, his words kissed along your neck making you sure you never want him to.

your mouths connect again in a fit of tongues meeting and bodies crashing, foreign feelings of arousal coursing through your veins. you guys always took things slow but you were never sure why - if he was doing it for you or if he just didn’t wanna do that step.

but you were secretly even hoping tonight, you’d be able to go further.

that’s why when his hands trail along the bottom of your shirt, warm fingers dipping under to touch your skin, you move into him even more. pulling back to look at him through hooded eyes as you nod your head.

you don’t even have the time to feel apprehensive when you’re sitting there in just a lace bra, exposed and slightly cold with goosebumps on your skin, because yeosang’s quick to assure you.

look at you with a soft, sweet fascination and tell you how beautiful you look for him.

both your shirts hit the living room floor before he’s scooping you up, a surprised squeal leaving your mouth that brings a smile to his face.

he plops you down on the bed shoved in the right corner of the room, clothes littering the floor and a mess of wires near the desk. it’s a little messy but it smells surprisingly clean, like a mix of cologne and yeosang’s natural teakwood scent.

“we don’t have to do this,” he says, his body looming above yours.

because you guys really don’t have to do this, he’d be perfectly content watching movies tonight with an inkling of kissing or touching, but, fuck, does he want to.

he’s wanted to hear you moan and touch you and taste you since you both started dating. since he looked at you under the stars and knew he’d fall for you shortly after.

“i want to,” you confess, a soft blush on your cheeks as you look up at him,

he rolls his tongue over his lips, biting down every so slightly in a way that makes your lower stomach tighten in desire. the look in his eyes is too much, it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before. like he wants to-”

“i want to ruin you,” he mumbles, bending down to press a peck on your neck. “i won’t do it tonight,” he continues, trailing his lips down your chest before bringing his hand to the lace.

his finger traces the red material, sliding one of the straps down before tugging down your bra. his eyes move to your nipple, hardening in the cold air as he feels his cock do the same.

“i’m gonna be slow and gentle and so good to you, baby,” he says, his hot breath fanning over your exposed boob. his lips are so close to touching your skin, the warmth and wetness bringing tingles to your skin.

“i only ask that you moan for me, okay?” he mumbles, his tongue swiping across your nipple causing a choked, strangled gasp to leave you. you feel him smirk against your skin and can’t even be embarrassed by it, just wanting more of him and more of the pleasure he’ll give you.

“doesn’t seem like that’s gonna be a problem though, pretty girl,” he chuckles out, mouth closing around your nipple again as his hands trail down your side.

every sensation seems heightened and overwhelming, completely aware of how heavy your breathing is and the building pit of desire in your stomach. desire that heightens when his hand ghosts past your pants, his middle finger tracing small circles through your leggings.

he can feel your legs widen and a smirk crosses his face, sucking at your nipple once more before pulling back and meeting your lips. you moan at the feeling of his fingers moving quicker, a strangled “yeosang, please,” catching you off guard as much as him.

but it seems to get things in to motion - because your leggings are done and your skin hits the cold air a few moments later, yeosang tugging his shirt over his head before his hands are back on you.

you’re laying beside him, head resting on his bare chest when he slips his hand in your underwear. rubbing quick, skilled circles on your clit as your breathing labors and you whine into the air.

“have you ever been touched like this before, baby?” he mumbles, a shake of your head causing him to stop his movements all together. you whine at the loss of pleasure, looking at him with glossy, confused eyes that makes him hold back a smile.

he likes seeing how desperate you got. how ready and willing and eager you are for him.

“have you ever been touched like this?” he repeats, a croaked whine of “no,” leaving your mouth that makes him smile. continue his blissful strokes on your clit as a finger slowly enters you.

you’re so wet that you welcome the stretch with a moan of pleasure, a deeply grumbled “fuck,” causing your eyes to roll back when he hesitantly adds another.

“you’re so wet, baby. you’re so fucking wet for me.”

you nod dumbly, not being able to find the words as his pointer and middle curl  and he fucks you with his fingers. you moan his name when the pleasure becomes too much, wanting to scream when he suddenly removes his hand from you.

you watch through hooded eyes as he tugs your underwear down with his teeth, his mouth pulled into a smirk until they’re only just past your upper thighs.

because like he’s so eager and can’t wait, like he’s been waiting for this moment since he knew you were gonna be okay with it, he looks down at your bare, soaked pussy with a look of hunger you’ve never seen before.

“let me eat you out,” he says, his words choked out and tone deep and strangled. “please, baby, can i?”

his voice sounds as desperate as you feel and you have to sit up so you can crash your lips on his, the overwhelming need to kiss him coming over you. he meets it back immediately, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and tongues until you pull back and tell me “please.”

his tongue brings you to your first orgasm, your thighs shaking between his head as your hand runs through his black hair desperately.

when his cock springs free, he circles it around your entrance and enters you slowly. sweet, soft spoken words of “it’s okay,” and “you’re doing so good, angel,” that make the whole experience that much better.

you feel full and he feels so good inside you, both your moans ringing through the air and the smell of sex in the room until he’s coming in you. hips bucking and slamming quickly to follow his high before he flicks your clit a few times to bring you to your second orgasm of the night.

you both lay there after, naked and panting, before he’s up and getting a warm, wet rag. there’s a slight sting but it makes you feel incredibly love and vulnerable, watching as he cleans between your legs with a sweet, gentleness and diligence.

“was that okay?” he mumbles in your hair, the faint scent of sweat and perfume on your skin. you only mumble and nod against him but he needs to see your face in this moment.

see that this was just as amazing and fulfilling for you as it was for him.

and when he meets your gaze, his thumb under your chin to meet his eyes, he can see it was. in your glossy eyes and shy smile and pink cheeks that makes him wanna kiss you all over again.

“it was good. really good,” you confess quietly, a small deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he moves a sweaty stand of hair behind your ear.

“yeah? really good?” he teases, eyebrow quirked as he pecks a playful kiss on your cheek. “just how good?”

your blush intensifies as you hide your face in his chest, his laugh mumbled against your head as you feel his lips press against your head.

you two eventually venture back into the living room after a few more kisses and wandering hands, plopping on the couch fully dressed and cuddled into one another when there’s a commotion right outside the apartment door.

the both of you turn to see the seven other boys barreling through in a drunken, sloppy daze, yunho holding mingi and jongho up while hongjoong holds san and wooyoung. seonghwa follows behind with an annoyed expression, meeting yeosang’s gaze that screams you will pay for this.

“what the hell happened?”

“single people drank for free,” hongjoong says, watching as the four drunken idiots either collapse onto the floor or stumble into the kitchen; seonghwa follows quickly behind, because as much disdain as he has, he doesn’t wanna see anyone light themselves on fire.

“so you could only imagine how that went. i don’t even know how many peanut butter and jelly shots san and wooyoung had.”

“that is so disgusting,” yeosang says, your head nodding against his chest because “i’m sorry, but that kind of is. maybe you guys should have some water now.”

“it was good, y/n!” jongho whines, throwing himself down next to you and yeosang. he slumps against the arm of the couch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before his eyes shoot open.

you and yeosang watch as he does so, quickly rising from the couch and sniffing like a police dog in front of a bag of drugs.

“the fuck’s your problem?”

“who lit my cotton candy candle?!” the boy yelps, taking one whiff of the air and being positive he’d know that smell anywhere. “and why does it barely mask the smell of sex?!”

your eyes widen and a deep, red blush overcomes you, a growl leaving yeosang at the same time hongjoong comes over and tugs the boy up by his arm. the smaller boy throws you an apologetic look as he escorts jongho to his room, yeosang’s arm tightening around you as you hide yourself in his chest.

“does it really? i don’t smell anything.”

yeosang bites down on his lip so he doesn’t start laughing, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he shakes his own for your own peace of mind.

“no, baby. it’s fine. he’s just a drunk idiot.”

april - freshmen year

maybe it was because you guys started out so strong.

with great communication and constant assurance that kept you both aware of each other’s feelings.

you knew when he was feeling unsure about your quietness, wondering if it was something he did or if you just weren’t feeling good that day.

he knew when you were feeling overwhelmed, realizing just how different you two were the longer you were together. how he was just so outgoing and charismatic and extroverted and you just... weren’t.

how now that they honeymoon phase was over, stupid little arguments would break out. about what to do on the weekend, about where to eat, about staying in to study versus going to a cafe on campus.

they weren’t even real fights but it was enough to make you see a change in you guys. enough to see that, maybe, one day, this was gonna be a problem and you two would have to overcome it or let it ruin something good.

“we’re having seonghwa’s birthday party at the house tonight,” he tells you during your study session, another argument he won by bribing you with hot chocolate and sugar cookies at a local cafe.

you look up from your work and nod your head, a small smile on your face at the thought of seonghwa and the others.

you’ve gotten a lot closer to all of them over the past few months, even seonghwa who took a little bit longer to come out of his shell. but now that you talked to him you saw how nice and funny he was.

how he comes across as scary and standoffish but, really, is one of the most loyal and observant friends in the room.

he always knows when people are uncomfortable or have had too much of someone or something for the night - you watched him physically separate wooyoung and san when the both had too much alcohol and were getting snippy with each other.

his presence brings a comfort over you that you can’t quite explain. maybe because it seems like he’s kind of like you - quiet and shy and doesn’t like being the center of attention.

which is why you’re shocked in the first place he even agreed to a party.

“oh, he didn’t,” yeosang says, a smirk on his face as he thinks back to the night they all gave him an ultimatum. “but it was the lesser evil that we gave him so he agreed.”

“oh?” you quip, eyebrow raised as you play footsie under the table. “and what was it? making a restaurant sing him happy birthday?”

a wide smirk crosses yeosang face as he nods, a giggle leaving your mouth as you smack his arm lightly.

“you guys are bad.”

“eh, he’s dramatic,” he says, your gaze dropping back down to your work.

he’s said that a few times when you tell him a restaurant or bar is too crowded. when you’re at one of his sister’s house parties and the beer pong table is becoming far too overwhelmingly and crowded for your liking.

it’s always in a joking manner, him whisking you away despite others’ groans of protests, but it still secretly makes you a little sad.

“i actually have to go help them set up in a bit,” he says, your neck snapping up to him again. he sees your eyebrows pull together and reaches across the table, his hand on your arm rubbing you assuringly.

“what’s that face for?”

“nothing, i just...” you let out a sigh as you look down at your lap, feeling silly and stupid and perhaps dramatic. “you’re the one who wanted to come here and now you’re leaving. i could’ve just stayed at my room.”

“yeah but then i wouldn’t have fed you,” he says, reaching over to peck your nose sweetly. “i’ll pick you up at 7:45, baby.”

you can’t even say anything before he’s up and out the door, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as you watch him walk to his car. he turns around and waves, a small smile on your face as you wave back and watch him drive away.

you try not to think about it as you get your work done, faintly aware of the growing population in the cafe and the raising altitude of voices. a group of five take the spot next to you and that successfully gets you ready to sprint out the door.

it’s all good sounds, laughter and squeals and chipper voices, but it’s still too much for you. the sounds and the crowds and the overwhelmingly desire to just be in a peaceful quiet by yourself.

that is until a familiar voice, deep and low and calming, brings you out of your panic before it can even start.

“y/n?”

you look up to see a head of dirty blonde hair, seonghwa clad in dark leather and converse as he makes his way over to you.

“oh. hi, seonghwa,” you say, voice quiet and slightly breathless.

his eyes remain on you for a few seconds too long, gaze carefully roaming your  face before he makes his way over to the table. he sees your books and pens splayed out messily, a smirk on his face as he meets your eyes again.

“the semester just started, how do you have all this shit to do already?”

“believe me, i’m wondering the same thing,” you wince, his quiet chuckle causing a smile to light up your face. “what are you doing here?”

“getting a coffee. i slept like shit last night.”

“did wooyoung keep you up?”

“of course he did, the annoying fuck,” he grumbles, his eyes rolling and face pulled in disdain causing you to giggle. “speaking of which, where’s yeosang?”

seonghwa can count on his hands how many times he’s seen you two without each other.

“he left like an hour ago actually,” you say, seeing the time on your phone is 5:00 before your voice turns teasing and you raise your eyebrows playfully.

“he’s getting your party ready.”

seonghwa’s face pulls into on of confusion, your smile dropping as a guilty, sinking feeling builds in your stomach - yeosang didn’t tell you it was a surprise.

“oh no.”

“those annoying fucks, i swear to god,” seonghwa growls lowly, your eyes widening and lips pulling into a frown. “guess i can’t go home tonight.”

“i’m sorry, seonghwa, they didn’t tell me it was a surprise,” you whine quietly, looking up to meet his tight, dark gaze. “they said it was either that or a restaurant sang to you and you went with the party.”

“i told them that one was worse, not that i wanted a party.”

your frown deepens as you sink in your seat, your hands toying nervously on the table. seonghwa’s eyes fall to them and he lets out a sigh, eyes moving to the chair before he plops down in his seat.

a silence hangs between you both, as silent as it could be in a bustling, crowded cafe. you look up to see him watching your hands, quickly pulling them apart and smiling when he meets your gaze.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to spoil it,” you say, “but i don’t think they’re inviting that many people. yeosang usually tells me when parties are gonna be really crowded, so they’ll probably only be like twenty people.”

“yeah, well, that’s eleven too many.”

you press your lips together as you watch him, his neck rolling back and adams apple bobbing.

you can feel the table beside you watch, are sure the whole cafe has been watching since the moment he walked in. you’re not blind to the fact that seonghwa is unbearably attractive, slicked back dirty blonde hair and large stature that draws attention anywhere he goes.

for as long as you’ve known him though, you’ve never seen him bring girls around. or even mention a girl. he always just keeps to himself and his friends - and now you, you suppose, after months of trying and trying.

“i guess this is why they said we’re having a roommate meeting at 8:00.”

you send him a sympathetic smiling, assuring him that it won’t be that bad and you’ll be able to get through it together.

“i sometimes wonder how you’re able to put up with it,” you tell him honestly, thinking back to all the times you’ve watched him and his roommates. “they’re all so crazy and extroverted and.... loud.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, rising from the chair and looking down at you.

“years of practice and selective hearing,” he says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head. you don’t think anything of the way his gaze lingers on you, sending a small smile his way before he speaks again.

“so you’ll be there tonight?”

“yes! yeosang’s picking me up at 7:45 so i should probably get going too,” you say, closing your textbooks and getting your pens together.

“i’ll order my coffee and then walk you back to your dorm.”

“oh no, seonghwa, it’s okay, i-”

but before you can protest any further, he’s turned around and waiting in line to place an order for his coffee. you let out a sigh as you pack up your books, securing it on your shoulder before meeting him at the register.

the cashier is just as mesmerized as she is disappointed when she sees you stand next to him, dropping her flirtier smile for a polite one.

“your order will be right out sir.”

he nods his head as you guys go to the waiting area, standing side by side in silence before you turn to look with a smirk on your face.

“sir?”

“you can walk home in the dark, how ‘bout that?”

a giggle leaves your mouth as you shrug, insisting you didn’t even ask him to walk you home in the first place. he only rolls his eyes before his name is called, grabbing the hot coffee as you follow behind in amusement.

the walk to your dorm is only a few minutes, you and seonghwa walking in a comfortable silence as you walk through the campus. snow from last week’s storm rests on the trees in a picturesque manner, a slight chill in the air that causes you to shiver.

“are you gonna act surprised?”

seonghwa looks over at you as you walk, his arm clumsily bumping into yours as you walk through the slushy, dirty snow - it goes seemingly unnoticed by both of you, arms accidentally grazing for a few seconds before disconnecting as you walk.

he just shrugs and remains quiet, slipping back into the dismissive and intimidating person he once seemed to be. you don’t even think he realizes he comes off like that, just has this look that screams do not look or talk to me.

you stop in front of your dorm a few moments later, turning around tot meet seonghwa who looms over you. he wears a blank, unreadable expression until you smile up at him, thanking him again for walking you and that you’ll see him in a few hours.

“no problem, couldn’t let yeosang’s girl walk alone,” he says, gaze lingering on you for the third time. you've noticed him do this to everyone though, watch and observe to a point where you think he knows things people don’t know about themselves.

“and i’ll act surprised, tonight. won’t let it slip that you ruined my birthday.”

“yeosang didn’t tell me that it was a sur- wait. is today your real birthday?”

his eyebrow quirks up sarcastically, a smile pulling at his lips as he looks at you.

"why would they throw me a birthday party if it wasn’t my birthday?”

an embarrassed flush crosses your cheeks as an awkward giggle bubbles out of your mouth.

“i just thought because it was the weekend or something,” you stutter out, “happy birthday, seonghwa.”

“thanks, y/n,” he smiles, eyes softening every so slightly before he nods his head toward the building. “go in. it’s cold. i’ll see you later.”

“bye,” you say, sending a small wave his way before turning around and disappearing into your dorm building.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think seonghwa was an award winning actor.  

because when the party of 30 (just ten over what you predicted) screamed “happy birthday seonghwa!” in the pitch darkness, a miscalculation mingi and the light switch, he seemed genuinely surprised.

or, at least, as surprised as his face could express when he turned on the lights.

his eyes were wide and his eyebrow was quirked, a look of disdain throw at his friends who were huddled in the front and clapping excitedly.

“happy birthday hwa!”

“we got you, bitch!”

“wear this happy birthday hat!”

he whacked the red hat right out of jongho’s head, growling at him to not push it in a way that makes you hold back a laugh. he catches your eye and smiles at you, mouthing “good enough?” that has you nodding happily.

the house party picks up almost immediately after seonghwa’s arrival, music blaring and drinking games starting and a loud, pleasant chatter that your boyfriend thrives off of.

guides you around by the small of your back and introduces you to people you’re sure you’ve met before but just don’t recognize you; regardless, you’re polite.

smile at people and say hello before falling into the silence of watching yeosang and stranger after stranger talk. even someone he doesn’t know, like the friend of a friend or significant other of a friend, he talks to like he’s known them forever.

he just connects with people so easily and a part of you is truly envious of it.

“i just don’t get how you do it,” you whine to him on the couch, the same alcoholic beverage in hand (you think yeosang said it’s a rum and coke) that you humored him with when the party started.

“i just talk, baby, what do you mean?” he laughs out, you sitting on his lap as he takes a swig of his beer.

“i know but so easily,” you mumble. “and you don’t see awkward or scared or anything. what if you guys lapse into a silence? or don’t know what to talk about?”

“silence isn’t bad, though, we sit in silence sometimes. and there are always things to talk about.”

like the person walking around with jongho’s array of candles, making the drunk boy run after him and fight off people trying to sniff them.

or the incredibly competitive and entertaining game of flip cup, one side far superior than the other and completely demolishing them.

or like how the birthday boy, the reason why eveyone’s gathered here today and having fun, hasn’t gotten his ass off the couch since he walked through the door.

“i didn’t ask for these people to be here,” seonghwa growls when he hears yeosang talking shit, throwing a dirty look his way as he tosses a pillow at him. “you idiots did that all on your own.”

“and aren’t you happy we did? now you have a bunch of gifts.”

the blank stare seonghwa has shows he could not give less of a fuck about the pile of cards in his room right now, politely thanking the guests who were nice enough to actually bring them and not just their drunken presence.

“we should’ve taken your grouchy ass to a restaurant so they could’ve-”

“yeosang, bro! please come here! we need you!”

the voice belonged to a guy from your class named yeonjun. he had pink hair and was very similiar to your boyfriend, charismatic and friendly in such a gravitating, almost unnatural way.

he also apparently sucked at flip cup.

“it’s not my fault you suck,” he yells from over the couch, loud groans of protest and upset coming from the table.

“c’mon yeosang! please!”

“we need you!”

“leave your hot girlfriend and get over here now!”

yeosang looks to you to see a flustered blush on your cheeks, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he pecks one the pink skin.

“can i go, baby?” he mumbles quietly, squeezing your waist every so slightly. “they’re really desperate and need me.”

your lips purse together as you look over your boyfriend, the slight pout and look in his eye causing you to sigh. he knows then that he won, again, the way he usually does these days, and lifts you off his lap.

he presses another kiss to your head before he’s off, loud, happy shouts of excitement causing you to crane your neck back. he does the weird boy hand shake-hug before the game starts up, turning back to see seonghwa sitting across from you on the other couch.

“having fun birthday boy?”

“no,” he answers immediately, dryly, in a way that brings a big smile to your face. “how ‘bout you?”

“it’s okay,” you shrug, curling your legs under you as he rest on the couch more comfortably. “i hope the cake is good.”

“i don’t like cake.”

he’s never seen someone’s eyes widen as much as yours do in that very moment, a small, short chuckle leaving his mouth at your expression.

“what?”

“how do you not like cake?” you squeal.

if there’s one thing you could eat in this world, dietary and nutritional values aside, it would be chocolate cake.

“i just don’t like it, it’s too like sweet and sugary. and if it’s chocolate, that’s even worse.”

the pillow he threw at yeosang flies through the air and hits him back in the face, only your smug, disturbed expression staring back at his shocked one. it would usually make you laugh, the look on his face, but you’re truly just so disturbed - how is there not gonna be cake at a birthday party?

“how could you not like chocolate cake of all the cakes!” you squeal

“did you just throw a pillow at me on my birthday?”

“i mean like carrot cake or fruit cake i get. those are kind of gross and only certain people like them. but chocolate cake? it’s loved by almost every-”

like a game of monkey in the middle, with no monkey, the battered throw pillow flies through the air again and just misses your face; whether he did that on purpose or accidentally is no one’s business.

you and seonghwa stare at one another, eyes narrowed and faces slightly red, completely unaware to the party around you until you’re the one who cracks. put your hand to your mouth and start laughing hysterically.

not a cute giggle or breathy chuckle but a big, hearty, real laugh.

he’s never heard you like this before, probably because he’s only spent a little bit of time with you, but it makes him smile even more. the sound of your laugh and innocent happiness is contagious, his deeply mumbled “stop,” so obviously fake due to the the smile tugging at his lips.

you eventually moved onto the couch beside him, hitting him closer with the pillow before plopping down next to him. talking to him and being next to him made you forget about the party.

not because he was handsome or because you liked him - you loved yeosang and were dating him.

you just enjoyed being able to relate to someone. loved sitting there with someone who didn’t just wanna drink or get high or dance. who was able to be there in silence or talk about nonsense while being surrounded by the chaotic energy of a party.

so much so that you don’t even realize your own boyfriend left you for half the night. not once coming over to check on you or see if you were dong okay until it was time for the cake seonghwa wasn’t even gonna eat.

“i’m sorry, baby, i got caught up with the game,” he mumbled, his arms wound tightly around your waist. you shake your head against his chest, assuring him that it’s okay as he tickles your neck with soft pecks from his lips.

the night ended with yeosang getting so drunk, you had to put him to bed. it wasn’t something you minded, you’ve done this a few times before, but for whatever reason tonight it made something build in the pit of your stomach.

like you already knew tonight something in the future was gonna change because of parties, yeosang’s extroverted ways and seonghwa’s lingering eyes that everyone but you three notice.  

july:

you end the semester with all a’s, an excuse to not return home for the summer and a strained relationship.

it seemed like it happened slowly and then all at once.

there was the time at seonghwa’s party where you thought nothing of it. he was occupied and, luckily, so were you. he left you but went back smiling and affectionate, pressing kisses to your skin and mumbling about how beautiful you looked.

but then it started happening more.

at his sister’s parties where he knew you were uncomfortable.

at frat parties where you were even more uncomfortable.

even at his own house, when the boys had a few people over and they were playing video games while getting high.

it was always seonghwa who kept you company, the two of you in the same room as them but seemingly on a different planet. sitting beside one another observing the party and sharing snide, sneaky comments about others.

how it seemed as if there was some turmoil between mingi and yunho, the way they were ignoring each other and sharing looks back and forth when the other wasn’t looking.

how wooyoung and hongjoong’s frat boys friends didn’t seem to get along in the slightest, the boys always sneering at him when he laughed too loud or teased them too much.

how yeosang was so consumed by the limelight, talking and laughing and making jokes, that he seemed to have forgotten you exist.

“i don’t think he realizes he does it, y/n,” seonghwa assured you one night, the end of the semester coming to a close and allowing you all to relax.

it’d been a hard and stressful first year but there’d also been a lot of fun. a lot of making new relationships that you know will last a lifetime and a lot of things you learned about yourself through all of these experiences.

it’d also been one of the happiest times of your life thanks to yeosang, the boy you fell for so hard and so fast despite all your fears and reservations.

you’re still happy now, even with the bumps. because you think, you hope, that you guys could get through them.

“he’s always been like that. very social and in the middle of a group. people are always drawn to him.”

seonghwa’s not surprised that you were drawn to him. yeosang’s always had something about him that people flock to, men and women alike; but you were the first he’s truly fell for.

reciprocated feelings for and truly cared about their well being and them as a person.

“i don’t think he’s trying to hurt you. that’s just how he is.”

“he’s not hurting me.”

because through all of this, through him ignoring you and neglecting him and seemingly blowing off your feelings because they’re silly and unrelatable to him, you’re trying to convince yourself he’s not.

that you really are just being silly and dramatic about all of this.

that even though you go these outings for him, despite detesting them more than anything, and he keeps leaving you alone, you’re not hurt by it; but seonghwa can see through it.

and whether it’s because you guys are so alike or because he’s so annoyingly observant, you’re not sure. you just know that he looks at you with a soft, sympathetic disbelief that causes the ever growing lump in your throat to grow bigger.

“y/n...”

“he’s really not, seonghwa,” you mumble, words hushly spoken as you watch yeosang carefully; you know if he sees you looking upset, he’s gonna come over.

he’ll stop whatever he’s doing or whatever conversation he’s having and it’s because of that you can’t be upset. because he still loves you and cares for you.

you just have to stop being so dramatic and silly.

when you say that to seonghwa, the very words that come from your boyfriend’s mouth, you watch his face change completely. become harder and harsher as he looks to yeosang, jaw ticking as he pops his neck to the side.

“whatever you say, y/n,” he mumbles. “i just don’t want you guys having problems over this. he loves you, y/n.”

he asked you to stay with him for the summer a few days before classes ended, unsure if you’d be able to but wanting to ask because “my parents are gonna be away for the summer,” he said to you suddenly, both of you laying naked in your dorm.

you craned your neck up to look at him, sweat glistening on his face and chest making him handsome even then.  

“are you scared to be in the house all alone?”

he rolls his eyes playfully, bopping you on the nose lightly before pulling you on top of him. the blankets lay around you messily, your core under his flaccid dick that just ripped several orgasms through you.

“very. i’m gonna be very scared and need you with me. i truthfully might not even survive,” he drones on, resting his hands on your hips as you roll your eyes at him.

you ponder over it as you sit on top of him, biting down on your lip in a way that causes him to tighten his hold and roll your hips over him just a little bit. you ignore him and his horny ways the way you’ve learned to, thinking it all over before realizing it might be good for you guys.

you don’t know if he’s noticed the slight disconnect, it could just be you living in your head all the time, but you think spending time together would be good. would remind you of how you felt with him when you first started dating and he always made sure you were his number one priority.

you want some of that again. you want him to notice when you’re upset or uncomfortable and go out of his way to help you in a crowd, even if it’s just for a moment.

you want to feel like if it came down to you, his friends and the parties or you, that he’d pick you each and every time.

the first few weeks of summer felt as if you were getting that.

you spent a lot of your time longing around his house. playing in his pool and watching movies outside and having sex on nearly every surface, you were surprised to be able to walk.

but all of that quickly stopped when everyone else was home from college.

when his hometown became just one big reunion, people from his high school and neighboring colleges getting together the one way college kids knew - house parties with kegs and loud music.

it seemed as if every few days, you guys were going out.

you and yeosang and all of his friends meeting up with different groups and different houses and having the time of your lives late into the summer nights.

the stuffy houses and sleazy bars definitely weren’t your scene but yeosang, per usual, thrived.

he more often than not would leave you after the first hour, making sure you were with seonghwa or hongjoong or yunho before going off to drink or mingle with his friends.

he’d check on you periodically but it almost seemed as if he felt obligated to.

pressing a kiss to your cheek or holding you by the waist to ask if you needed another drink or wanted to play beer pong; but it was always the same answer every time.

a polite no with a fake smile on your lips that he left with a parting kiss before disappearing back into the crowd.

it was getting old and you knew he was starting to feel the disconnect too, the more hazy summer days that passed, but you both ignored it. because the times at his house were nice, you almost felt normal.

kissing and cuddling and talking as you ate.

but you knew that would all fade away eventually.

when there more were people who weren’t just you or his friends and craved something more exciting than just staying in and hanging out.

talk of a beach bonfire weekend had, admittedly, peaked your interest.

it was different than the stuffy houses or sleazy bars you’ve gotten used to over these past few weeks of summer.

now, you got to go to the beach and rent a nice house right by the ocean. be with yeosang and his friends and the people you got to know in a much more tropical and romantic setting.

you drove up with yeosang, yunho and mingi in the latter boy’s jeep, you and yeosang in the back as wind whipped through your hair. you giggle anytime your hair smacks him in the face, eventually being pulled into his chest to stop the assault from happening on his face.

his heartbeat is calming under your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as him and the two boys in front talk over the plans for the weekend.

you’re blissfully unaware of it as you remain close to his body, warm and sticky in the humid air but not caring.

because even despite your problems and disconnect, you still want him near you. you still find comfort in him and you still want to feel loved by him.

“how does that sound?” you hear yeosang mumble in your ear, his breath tickling your skin causing you to hum against him.

“how does what sound?”

“did you fall asleep?” he asks teasingly, nudging you playfully until your faces are a few inches from each other. “i asked if you wanna go on a date tonight when we get there.”

a happy smile crosses your face as you nod eagerly, one breaking out on his too before he places a soft kiss on your lips.

you’re buzzing with a silent excitement the rest of the ride, your hand is his as you play with his fingers and he smiles at you ever so often. holding hands always felt right between you two, like they were made to fit perfectly and acted as a way to ground you both.

your hands stay intertwined when you get to the house, a giant 8-bedroom mansion on the beach that cost you half of your savings - but the view is making it seem worth it.

the waves crashing just a few feet from the back door and causing everyone to storm out of their cars to fight for the best room.

“i want the balcony, please for the love of god! i will do all the dishes during this trip if you guys let me have it.”

“that’s such bullshit,” hongjoong complains, calling wooyoung out on a deal he knows he definitely won’t abide by; but after much nearly 30 minutes of whining and a written contract stuck to the fridge, it was decided.

wooyoung gets the room with the balcony in exchange for dishes duty, a fair exchange you think given the view.

your and yeosang’s room is the one next to wooyoung, an en-suite and beautiful view of the ocean outside the floor to ceiling windows. your standing there watching the waves crash, bags at your feet and content smile on your face when yeosang wraps his arms around you from behind.

you giggle when he presses his lips to your neck, turning in his hold to immediately meet his for a kiss. it feels like you miss him even though you see him everyday. even though you’ve fallen asleep and woken up next to him for over a month.

“what do you wanna eat tonight?” he mumbles against your lips, pulling back to look at you with a smile on his face and a playful twinge in his eyes. you cock your head to the side as you look up him, shrugging your shoulders because it really doesn’t matter.

you’re just excited for your date.

“i don’t care, i’ll have anything.”

“we’ll find a place then,” he says, pulling you closer to him in a way you already know means something. “you wanna shower before we go?”

“why? do i smell?” you tease, a smirk on his face as he pulls you toward the bathroom wordlessly.

and lucky for both of you, there was a very convenient bench in the shower that had you in there until the mirror was foggy and the water ran cold.

“can you bring us back food?” mingi whined, yeosang rolling his eyes as he caught the boy’s car keys.

“as long as you eat in on plates so wooyoung has to wash the dishes.”

“hey!”

“deal.”

a smile spreads across your face as you wave goodbye to all the boys, wearing a pretty new dress you’ve been wanting to wear for weeks. yeosang takes your hand and interlaces your fingers together, shouts of “bye” and “have fun lovebirds,” echoing through the house.

the restaurant is right on the beach with outdoor seating, twinkle lights lining the space with the quiet chatter of people and gentle crash of waves. you and yeosang are play footsie under the table as you look over the menu, shy smiles and coy narrowed eyes beuing thrown at each other.

it’s been a while since things have felt this natural and easy between you two but you think you both needed it. the casual conversation, the airy chuckles and giggles, the warm feeling in the middle of your chest when you catch him looking at you lovingly.

“you look beautiful, baby. are you excited for this weekend?”

a faint blush covers your cheeks as you look up at him, twirling the spaghetti on your fork as you nod your head.

“yeah. we’re going to the beach tomorrow, right?”

“yeah,” he says, popping a piece of steak into his mouth. “and then we’re gonna meet changbin and them at a bar. his friend’s parents own it so we’ll be able to get in.”

“oh... okay,” you hum after a few seconds, quietly picking at our food and feeling yeosang’s eyes on you.

“what?”

you look up and meet his gaze, the sweet, softness gone and replaced with something you’re not quite able to make out. you feel nerves in the pit of your stomach, taking a deep breath before you plaster a smile on your face.

“nothing. that’ll be fun.”

“you think?” he asks, eyebrow quirked and a happy smile on his face; he was hoping you liked going out and meeting his friends more. he loves showing you off and having you by his side but in the beginning, it always seemed like you didn’t wanna be there.

he’s happy you’re coming around to it now, wanting his girlfriend by his side and having fun with him too.

“yeah,” you lie through your teeth, the smile on your face a complete contrast to your feelings inside.

when did he stop knowing when your smile was fake? or thinking that you actually wanted to go out? couldn’t he see all the time you were pushing yourself to be there for him, just for him to leave you alone?

“i think we’ll have fun,” you lie again, having a terrible feeling that this weekend getaway might be the thing that breaks you and yeosang completely.

because your relationship is already fragile and neither of you are acknowledging it. you just keep kissing and giggling and playing footsie under the table, looking like the perfect couple you truly once were in the beginning.

friday morning it seemed as if maybe things were gonna be okay.

you woke up to yeosang kissing your face, forehead to cheek to cheek to nose until he peppered them down your neck and a tired whine left you. he smiled against your skin, his lowly mumbled ,”good morning, baby,” making your stomach flutter first thing.

the moment was quickly over, open mouthed kisses and his tongue slipping past yours, when wooyoung and mingi bursted through the door, dramatic yelps leaving them as they ran out covering each other’s eyes.

“i cannot believe you kiss him in the morning,” wooyoung said an hour later, all eight of you walking down to the beach.

the cooler was packed and ready, fully prepared for a day in the sun and pregaming for the bar later tonight.

“why?” you ask, a smile pulling at your lips at the look of disgust on his face.

“multiple reasons but his breath being the first! isn’t it disgusting? there’s no way he doesn’t wake up with rank breath, y/n, i just don’t believe it.”

an arm wraps around your waist from behind, your boyfriend’s hand craning your face back so he can peck another long, lingering kiss on your mouth; wooyoung’s gags in the back cause you to smile against him.

“you better be careful talking about rank breath,” yeosang says when he pulls away, eyes right on wooyoung who’s wearing a look of shock and hurt.

“i don’t have bad breath.”

“i can smell you right now. did you even bring a toothbrush?”

“he actually didn’t,” jongho quips, wooyoung’s head snapping toward his as you and yeosang suppress your laughter - one of you better than the other.

“it’s all he kept talking about in the car. sick fuck even asked to use to mine but that is just too-”

“oh wow, look at the waves! c’mon, y/n, you said you wanted to play in them!”

wooyoung grabs your hand before you’re able to say anything, giggling as he drags you down the hot sand. you throw down your bag and look back at yeosang with a smile, his hand waving you off as he picks up your belongings.

mingi and san join you both a few minutes later, the water making your feet numb in the wet sand.

you don’t know how long it takes all four of you to fully immerse yourself in the water - at least thirty minutes if you had to guess. but once you got in, you guys didn’t wanna get out.

the waves were harsh and crashed down on you viscously but that was part of the fun. diving into the water and letting the salt water soak up into your skin and hair. it was even better that there was no gross seaweed, the four of you attempting to play toothpaste despite the major difficulty.

but with how much time past, pruny fingers and soaked hair, you didn’t expect the others to already be shit-faced. it was barely noon and you could tell immediately that yeosang, hongjoong and jongho were well on there way to getting obliterated tonight.

you have sinking suspicions it’s because changbin and his friends are also here; and when their two friend groups are together, nothing could comes of it.

they’re all fun and sweet and care for one another but they also build off of each other - enable each other’s young, college drinking habits and rowdy behavior.

“b-baby, c’mere,” yeosang slurs when he sees you, wrapping you up in a towel and pulling you on his lap.

you land on his lap with a plop, smiling and saying hello to the others. you can smell the alcohol on yeosang’s breath but he’s always in good spirits. always laughing and smiling and making jokes that, usually, his drinking isn’t a problem.

it’s not something you particularly enjoy or can relate to but he’s never been a  mean drunk.

not until today.

“you look really good today, you know that?” he mumbles lowly in your ear, the new, red bikini you brought clinging to your body in all the right ways. you were slightly embarrassed to wear it today but decided to go for it because you thought you looked nice in it and spent $70 on it.

you looked up at him with an embarrassed flush on your cheeks, elbowing him lightly as he wraps his arms around your waist. his fingers toy with the edge of your bikini under the towel, your eyes widening when you feel what he’s trying to do.

“yeosang,” you whisper harshly, keeping your voice low but firm as you smack his hand over the towel.

“what,” he whines lowly, eyes roaming the area to see everyone either going to the water or chatting amongst themselves. “you’re covered, baby. i wouldn’t let anyone see what’s mine.”

“are you crazy,” you whisper as you peek your face up at him. “we’re already drinking underage on the beach yeosang. you can’t finger me in public either.”

“who said i was gonna finger you?” he mumbles, a smirk on his face and teasing in his voice; but you don’t find this funny. you don’t find him being this drunk and touchy at noon is funny. “you’re getting ahead of yourself now, baby.”

“why are you getting this drunk at noon, yeosang? we’re going out tonight too, unfortunately.”

“unfortunately?” he asks, craning his neck down to look at you. “i thought you were excited.”

“i was so excited for the beach,” you tell him quietly. “i thought you would come in the ocean with us.”

because you wanted to spend that time with him. have the jeuvnile fun you used to have when you’d go on drives to the beach at night and freeze your asses off on the sand.

“you looked like you were having enough fun with wooyoung and san,” he mumbles, something darker and sarcastic in his voice that makes you turn in his lap and look at him.

his eyes are glassy and teasing but not in the light hearted way. they look almost vengeful, like he’s jealous or feeling left out the same way you’ve been; but you’re always sitting there, at parties or at bars or in your room, waiting for him.

how doesn’t he see that?”

“that’s because you’ve been with everyone else. you’re always with everyone else and you leave me behind.”

“what are you even talking about?” he sneers, keeping his voice low but full of bite. “you come everywhere with me like my damn shadow, y/n. how do i leave you behind? i couldn’t if i tried.”

his words make you physically recoil, his lap now longer feeling comfortable and inviting but cold. the hurt is evident on your face and in your heart and he’s just looking at you like he’s ready to have a full on argument, his eyebrow raised and glossy eyes wide.

like he’s waiting for you to say something just so he can respond and hurt you.

there’s a long, lingering silence between you two, the laughter of others surrounding you despite the way tears are burning your eyes. a screech of your name pulls you away, looking at san and mingi where the shorter boy is holding his foot above the sand.

“can you come back with us? i cut my foot.”

some silly part of you expects yeosang to tell them to leave you alone. that you spent your time with them and now it’s his turn to be with you. but he doesn’t say a word, just bounces his knee as if to tell you to get off and it feels as if your heart drops into your stomach.

you swallow the growing lump in your throat, throwing the towel back on yeosang and rising toyour feet to help san.

“sure,” you tell the boy quietly, not looking back at yeosang once as you make your way up to the house.

you clean san’s foot on the counter in the kitchen, getting off all the dirt and dust with an alcohol pad as he whines in pain.

“it’s not that bad,” you mumble, mingi nodding in agreement as san narrows his eyes at both of you.

you’re strangely quiet, more quiet than usual, and mingi can’t help but notice the sad look on your face; you’d been so happy in the water and when you first got to the beach.

“did you and yeosang fight?”

you look up at mingi to see his eyes on you, soft and sweet and looking over you gently. it makes the weepy, emotional part in you wanna cry but you refuse, letting the dramatic tears burn your eyes at you shake your head.

“are you sure? you look sad.”

“no, i’m okay, i’m just tired,” you say, sending a small smile his way that is obviously fake. “the water and sun always tire me out.”

san and mingi accept your answer as you finish covering san’s food, slapping a band-aid on his heel and smiling (the smallest hint of a real smile) as he kisses your cheek in thanks.

you watch outside the window as yeosang sits in his chair, all the boys in a circle with their cups full of beer and throwing their heads back in laughter. you can hear their banter and harsh words through the open glass, not a single part of you wanting to go back out there.

you’d much rather sit in the bath or take a nap, rid yourself of the image of yeosang’s harsh words and annoyed eyes.  

“y/n?” san says, your eyes snapping to his concerned face - how long had he been calling you?

“c’mon, we’re going back,” he says, extending his arm down to you. “we used to play this olympic game when we were kids and we wanna try again.”

a smile pulls at your lips at his statement, picturing all of them as crazy kids running up and down the beach playfully. but now you don’t wanna go back out there, especially since you have to go out later with them.

“i kind of wanna take a nap before we go out tonight,” you tell the boys, looks of horror crossing their faces.

“what? we’re not going out till 7. it’s only 1:30, y/n.”

“i know but i’m gonna take a bath, too. the tub is really big.”

the dejected frowns on mingi and san almost make you crack but they eventually let it go, insisting that if you can’t fall asleep to come back out so you can all go back in the ocean.

you watch them walk back to the group from the door, eyes lingering over yeosang who’s smiling and laughing with his big group of friends. he always looks most comfortable like that, in a big group of people where everyone looks to him and laughs, giving him the attention he used to look for from you.

but things change apparently. you don’t know how or when or why neither of you have acknowledged it but it’s obvious that somewhere along the line, things had changed.

“where’s y/n?” seonghwa’s voice asked, pulling yeosang from his discussion as he sees mingi and san walking back to the group.

“she said she’s tired,” san answers with a frown, a scoff leaving yeosang that has the dirty blonde side eyeing him. “she might come back down after she takes a nap.”

“she won’t,” yeosang says, taking a sip from his beer before throwing the glass bottle into the garbage bag; san and mingi side eye each other, catching the dark look that seonghwa throws the boy’s way.

“can someone get me another one?”

you woke to the sound of yeosang shuffling around in his bag, eyes fluttering open to see a towel wrapped around his waist. your eyes roamed over is body, a flat, toned stomach and muscular arms that now had a red su burn on them.

“did you put on sunscreen?”

he jumped slightly despite your quiet tone, meeting your tired gaze and bedridden hair as he nods his head. he places a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on the bed, undressing in front of you as you keep your gaze on him.

“did you sleep well?”

you can’t read his expression or tone at all right now and it unsettles you greatly; so you only nod, sitting up and stretching your arms up and over your head.

“are you coming out with us?”

your eyes narrow and that same sad feling plummets in your stomach again. how it feels like your heart’s falling down further and further.

“um... why wouldn’t i?”

“because it doesn’t seem like you want to.”

“then should i just sit here by myself?”

silence fills the room as you both just stare at each other blankly, the hurt behind your eyes and the annoyance behind his far too palpable. you wonder if he’s gonna say anything in response or just leave the out the bedroom door, quirking an eyebrow up in the quietness.

“we’re leaving in 30,” is all he says, voice still short and eyes still tight as he turns around and leaves. mingi and san sneak through the door, most definitely eavesdropping, as they run over and plop on your bed.

“you didn’t come back.”

“you guys definitely fought.”

you let out a sigh as you look to mingi, an apologetic smile on his face as he pats your shoulder reassuringly. his hand moves to your hair, lacing his fingers through it before a knot stops him.

“i was sleeping, okay,” you grumble, a deep laugh leaving him as he pulls you up and off the bed.

“we’re leaving soon so get ready. we’re just gonna dance and have fun. i promise.”

and so similiar to the beach outing, the first few hours were fun.

the music was good, it wasn’t too crowded and you even didn’t mind the taste of your strawberry daiquiri. you danced with san, mingi and wooyoung until your feet were killing and your throat felt parched.

you went up to the bar for a water, needing to yell your order over the voices of people as you realize just how crowded it got. your eyes scan the bar for yeosang, seeing him in the corner where the big group resides.

your eyes meet form across the room, a small smile on your face as you wave to him.

you know he sees you, you know you two definitely make eye contact and that he could tell it was you, but he doesn’t acknowledge you in the slightest. only hyunjin and jisung do, yelping your name from across the bar and ushering you over eagerly.

you hesitantly make your way over, a polite smile on your face. there’s a few people you don’t recognize but there’s a lot of people you do, trying to keep that in mind as you approach the table closer and say hi to everyone.

“y/n! where have you been?”

“dancing with san and mingi,” you tell them. “wooyoung, too, but we kept losing him.”

“he’s too friendly for his own good,” jisung says, his eyes roaming you and yeosang before back to you. “where are they now?”

“not sure, maybe outside.”

“cool. stay with us for a bit.”

you’re hesitant but find yourself nodding anyway, your arm grazing yeosang who’s standing next to you. you look to him and he’s talking to a few guys across the table, hyunjin calling your name twice before you notice.

the whole time you’re talking to them, you can’t help but notice how yeosang seems to be avoiding you. giving you the cold shoulder like you’re a random stranger in a bar and not his girlfriend.

and the longer it goes on, the worse you feel. trying to carry on the conversation but becoming more and more aware of yeosang’s distance; and you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

“yo, yeosang,” jisung says, the black-haired boy snapping his head toward the boy. he nods his head toward you, your neck craning toward yeosang and face dropping when the boy begins to speak again.

“is there any reason you’re ignoring your girlfriend?” he asks, humor in his tone.

“what do you mean?” the boy asks, his eyes moving to yours, the same unreadable expression in them.

“you haven’t looked at her once. are you guys even still dating?”

“surprisingly,” the drunken man quips sarcastically.

your face drops and it’s like he knows it, looking at you with a roll of his eyes.

“i was kidding, y/n,” he huffs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. he reeks of alcohol and cologne, keeping you under his arm before continuing his conversation.

the entire time, it’s like you’re not even there. he doesn’t once acknowledge you or try to include you in the conversation. just keeps you there as if your his shadow, something he’s not even aware ad that he doesn’t pay any mind to.

you thought you’ve been dramatic over these past few months. maybe being too sensitive or too emotional or maybe even asking too much from him. but it’s like he doesn’t even want you here.

he hasn’t looked your way once and neither of you acknowledged the way you snapped at each other before. your communication has gone down the toilet, all of your feelings brewing while his seem to be nonexistent.

you move out from under his arm, no one, not even him, noticing when you mumble that you’re going to the bathroom.

tears burn your eyes the entire time, feeling stupid and left out and annoying, like you have no place here and just have to be attached to someone who doesn’t want you or yeosang’s friends.

you grip the sink and take a few calming breaths, looking up at the mirror when you hear the door open.

a drunken girl comes in and smiles upon seeing you, her face immediately dropping before she makes her way over to you.

“oh no, what’s wrong?” she asks with a frown on her face, her eyes roaming yours carefully as her hands grip your arms comfortingly. “you look like you’re about to cry.”

you almost laugh at the fact that this random stranger is the one noticing that you’re upset when you were just beside your boyfriend. you only shake your head and promise her that you’re okay, a pathetic excuse of a smile plastered on your face.

but the same way a person breaks down when someone asks if they’re okay, you do when you try to assure her that you are. that you and your boyfriend are in a great place and you feel completely happy here with him.

“just... stupid stuff with my boyfriend,” you eventually mutter out, a small tear escaping your eye that causes her frown to deepen. “i feel silly and dramatic but i don’t know.. i feel like he’s been ignoring me. we’ve been so weird these past few months and it doesn’t seem like he even loves me anymore.”

“leave his ass, are you crazy,” she asks without hesitation, wiping at your tears with a sympathetic smile on her face. “you’re beautiful and he’s not worth crying over. no boy is. because that what he is. a boy. a stupid boy, in fact.”

a wet, strangled giggle leaves your mouth despite the tears streaming down your face, watching as she takes a paper towel and dabs at your face.

“you’re gonna mess up your makeup so no more crying!” she says happily, bouncing up and down with her legs crossed. “leave his ass and have fun, sweet girl! i’m about to pee my pants now.”

another giggle leaves your mouth as you thank her sweetly, wiping at your face and smiling when she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. you take a deep breath, trying to take her words to heart but far too aware of the upset in your stomach.

how leaving him seems like the most painful thing ever. how you don’t even wanna do that because you guys haven’t talked about anything yet. all these problems could be in your own head for all you know, you two haven’t had any sort of discussion.

but it doesn’t help that he doesn’t even seem receptive.

he has been ignoring you and making you feel left out. he brings you along just to leave you when he knows you’re only coming for him; even on the nights you guys stay in, it’s obvious he wants to be out partying.

why can’t it be more fair? are you asking for too much or is he just being inconsiderate?

you walk out of the bathroom to se the corner of bar empty, only jisung and hyujin lingering. the taller boy meets your gaze and the two make their way over, letting you know that they went to the bar outside.

“oh... okay, thanks for letting me know,” you thank softly, a small smile lighting up your face.

they both wear their own sympathetic smile, hyunjin shaking his head at jisung when they make eye contact. there’s a few moments of an awkward silence, you looking between them both before jisung opens his mouth to speak again.

“yeosang was saying some fucked up shit, y/n. i just wanted you to know.”

“han...”

“no, hyunjin, they’ve been together for a long time and he knows her best. that wasn’t cool.”

your stomach plummets at the words leaving the boy, the tears you just got rid of burning the back of your eyes again.

“what... what did he say?”

“it wasn’t anything that bad, we were just shocked. you guys usually seemed so happy and in love and it was just-”

“he said it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you guys broke up. and that if you wanted to, he wouldn’t be too opposed.”

the look on your face must give it all away, tears filling your eyes as you feel yourself ready to bolt. you will not be the girl who cries publicly in a bar, looking like a hot, red-faced mess because your boyfriend decided to be an asshole.

“he’s shit faced, y/n,” hyunjin says immediately, his stomach turning at your tears; he hates when people cry, especially girls. “he only said it because he thinks that’s where you guys are headed. said you guys have felt very disconnected since school ended.”

and while it helps to hear that you haven’t been the only one feeling that way, it still hurts you.

because it doesn’t seem like he wants to fight for you and he hasn’t said anything to you. he’s just ignoring you, making you feel worse and worse with the occasional kiss or whispered sweet nothing.

you think the worst part is that, eve if you guys did break up, he wouldn’t be sad about it. he’d just move on without any qualms and think of you as the girl he dated during his freshmen year of college.

but he was much more to you than that.

he was your first love. the first boy you allowed in and let yourself trust. gave yourself to in the most intimiate way and found solace in him despite your differences.

those differences seem to be your downfall right now - with one similarity that, apparently, both of you suck at communication.

you don’t even realize you’re turning around and leaving the bar until you hear your name being called behind you, walking out in the warm night air and heading toward the beach.

you just keep walking and walking and walking, until there’s nothing but silence and the waves crashing around you.

he knows he shouldn’t care this much.

he knows that it’s not his place and that the boy next to him should be the one worrying and concerned about where you are.

but yeosang doesn’t seem to care at all, switching from beers to shots in a decision seonghwa made hours ago to stay away from.

he can’t stop his eyes from moving to the door ever so often, waiting for your hair or smiling face to walk through and flood him with some relief; but when he sees mingi, san, and wooyoung come in without you, he’s not sure he can hold off any longer.

“yeosang,” seonghwa says, voice deep with his usual bite. “where’s y/n?”

“i don’t know,” he slurs out, not even bothering to look around or observe the crowd. “probably with mingi or san.”

“no, they’re out here, too.”

“i don’t know hwa, why do you care?” he growls in annoyance, downing another shot to dull out the sound your name and all the concerns he has. coming to terms with the fact that you guys are changing and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“because she’s missing, yeosang. no one has seen her or is with her.”

he’s getting more and more irritated at his friends attitude, the way it seems like he couldn’t give less of a shit about where his girlfriend is. especially when he knows you get uncomfortable in this setting.

“i’m her boyfriend, hwa, and i know she’s fine. so fucking drop it. she’s around here somewhere.”

but that answer doesn’t quell the worry in seonghwa, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes at the endless horror stories plaguing his mind. they’re underage at a crowded bar with sleazy drunks and cops lurking - there are far too many things that could go wrong.

“then act like it, dickhead.”

yeosang just rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the group and dismissing seonghwa and the conversation completely. he doesn’t know how they can talk about his girlfriend missing to something as mundane as video games, seonghwa getting up with a huff and walking back into the bar.

he checks around the whole bar twice, nearing 1 a.m so the building is at its maximum capacity. but even then, he checks everywhere and doesn’t see you; he even asks girls waiting on line to the bathroom to see if you’re in there, unaware of the dreamy look in their eyes as they nod and hang on to every word he says.

“no one named y/n was in there,” they said a few moments later, an apologetic look on her face before she smiled flirtily. “did you lose your girlfriend?”

he rolls his eyes and thanks them politely, not giving her the time to give him some cheesy pick up line before he’s outside.

it’s warm with such a slight breeze coming off the ocean, looking up and down the block before the beach catches his eye. there’s a few people walking in the distance and he thinks it’s worth a shot, walking away from the bar and going down to the cold, grainy sand.

he’s walking for twenty minutes, about to turn around as he wonders why the hell he’s even looking for you, when he hears soft cries.

he can barely hear them over the sound of the waves but he definitely hears them, squinting his eyes in the distance to see a figure hunched over with their face in their hands.

he can tell you it’s you when he’s a few feet away, the way your hair’s falling and dress is riding up your legs. he swallows thickly, relief flooding through him as he looks over your figure quietly.

he could tell you and yeosang were having problems, could tell you’ve been having them for a few months by how often you and him would hang out at parties, but it seemed as if they were getting worse these days.

he saw it on the beach this morning, the way you went from smiling and laughing to disappearing inside the house. it bothered him then but he knew he shouldn’t butt in, waiting until you guys figured it out or handled things on your own.

but now he can’t just sit back anymore.

he’s seeing changes in his younger friend that he doesn’t enjoy; his drinking, his attitude, the way he’s treating you 90% of the time. and tonight had been the last straw for him, his blatant disconcern for you and your wellbeing completely rubbing him the wrong way.

he continues to approach you quietly, the sound of his footsteps in the sand causing you to look up.

the faint glow from the streetlights and moon cast light on him, calming you immediately as you look up at him. you feel the wet tears on your face but could care less at the moment, sending him a small broken smile that makes you feel pathetic.

seonghwa is similiar to mingi and san in the aspect that he’s able to tell something’s off between you and yeosang. not because he’s nosy (in the most concerned way) like the two younger boys but because he sees it.

watches you at parties and is usually the person sitting beside you on the couch while yeosang’s off doing whatever.

he moves slow and cautious, sitting down on the sand next to you silently. you can feel the heat radiating off his arm, not quite touching you but just a few inches away.

you’re no longer crying but tears are still on your face, leaving you wet and sticky and most definitely tear-stained.

“i don’t know what i did, seonghwa.”

the dirty blonde looks your way when you finally break the silence between you two, seeing your tooth in your lip and eyes strained on the dark, starry sky.

“we’ve been so weird ever since the semester ended and it’s only getting worse. i- i know that’s just how he is but he was like that in the beginning too but he would never ignore me. i don’t know what i did or why he started but it feels like we’re on our way to breaking-”

you can’t even say the words because it’s not something you’re ready to do. you still love him and there’s still hints of you guys as a happy couple, the way he holds you and kisses you and looks at you sometimes.

but the bad is outweighing the god these days and it’s hurting you. hurting you to the point that you’re here, crying on the beach to his best friend who you don’t even realize looks at you a little too long and a little too soft.

and he doesn’t even know what to say to you this moment. because he sees his friend is changing and he sees it’s effecting you; it makes him wanna go back to the bar and punch yeosang in the face, tell him to wake up before someone snatches you away and treats you the way you deserve.

“am i the one being stupid, seonghwa?” you ask again, turning to look at the boy beside you. “do i just have to like... get over it and try for him? try to enjoy all of this and be okay with mingling on my own?”

“you go out with us all the tie, y/n, how are you not trying?”

it’s the softest you’ve ever heard seonghwa’s voice, something about it bringing more tears to your eyes because it’s so obvious that you’re a mess.

“i must not be if he’s being like this. it’s like he doesn’t even know me and he just wants me to leave him alone. he- he even told jisung it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if we broke up, so why am i even crying?”

seonghwa feels rage bubble up in his chest at the thought of yeosang saying that, cracking his knuckles one by one until he’s facing you again. he doesn’t get how he can’t see what he’s doing to you or how he doesn’t care.

“he’s been different these past few months, i’ve seen it too, y/n, so it’s not you,” he assures gently, waning to reach out and touch your hand form comfort. “he’s just... i don’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

you let out a sigh as you hide your face in your knees, tears leaking from your eyes again as quiet sobs leave you.

you feel seonghwa’s hand on your back a few seconds later, moving up and down slowly as you fall into him. you both just sit there on the sand, you crying and him silently comforting you as you try to make sense of this mess.

because even right now, with you gone and not saying a word, he doesn’t care. he’s not calling or texting or going to look for you. he just don’t seem to care at all.

“please don’t cry, y/n,” he mumbles quietly, his thumb moving up and down your skin gently.

but his words don’t help in the slightest. you just muffle your cries until you can’t anymore, peeking your head up as you wipe the wetness off your face.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, feeling embarrassed to have just cried your eyes out for god knows how long; but seonghwa doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, shrugging his shoulders with a small smile on his lips.

“you don’t have to apologize,” he reassures gently, sending a small smile his way.

you watch his eyes roam your face, dark eyes piercing yours in a way that you once found so intimidating. but you’ve gotten to know him so well and know how sweet he is.

how much he looks out for his people and that he’d really do anything for anyone.

“what?” you ask, feeling self conscious and seen. “are there tears on my face?”

“just a few,” he teases, reaching across to dab at the reamining wetness. you smile softly as he tocuhes your skin, watching him so gently reach over your face.

his warm fingers linger on you for a little too long but you don’t even notice, thanking him softly when he pulls back.

you lean back and are reminded of your first date with yeosang, on the sand that feels familiar and the sky with a bright crescent moon similiar to the one around your neck.

it pulls at something in your heart, how maybe you guys will never be like that again. how the honeymoon phase is just something that isn’t meant to to last htat long maybe.

it’s just a fleeting moment that you’ll remember in times like this, when it feels like you guys are about to fall apart.

tears prick your eyes again, a sigh leaving your mouth as you silently beg yourself not to cry again before seonghwa’s on his feet and reaching his hand down, like he knew you were about to blow.

you look at it with confusion, looking from his hand to his eyes looking down at you expectantly.

“come with me.”

“where are we going?” you ask, taking his hand hesitantly. he pulls you to your feet with ease, keeping you hands intertwined as he turns around and pulls you up the beach silently.

“seonghwa,” you whine, your bare foot tripping over the lumpy sand. he just grips your hand tighter every time you stumble, a quiet chuckle leaving his mouth that makes you narrow your eyes at him.

“you’ll see,” he says, eyeing you back just as sternly. “i past it on my way to find you.”

a dimly lit playground with swings and small, slightly janky jungle gym comes into your view, a smile lighting up your face as you turn to look at seonghwa.

“i don’t know how i missed this,” you tell him, knowing for sure you hd to have passed it on your way to the beach.

“you were too busy crying,” he teases lightly, a snort leaving your mouth as you push him gently. he narrows his eyes and pushes you back playfully, watching as you take off in the sand and plop down on a swing.

he smiles as you wave him over, moving the swing and pumping your legs as you hold your arms out to him. he walks over, leaning his head against the chain of the swing next to you watching you sit there and smile up at him.

“push me,” you ask sweetly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “please,” you add, wide glassy eyes and a sweet smile that renders him unable to resist. his warm hands rest on your back as he pushes you higher and higher, your eyes looking out into the ocean and sky as memories wrack your brain.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.

you shake your head from the memories, looking back to see seonghwa still pushing you with a content smile on his face. you stretch you legs to reach the ground, slowing down until you jump off.

you topple on the sand a little bit, seonghwa calling your name with a chuckle and watching as you steady yourself out. you turn to him with a smile, looking up at him in a way that causes his heart to jump in his chest.

he knows he has to ignore though. because problems or not, broken up or not, you’re still his best friend’s girlfriend.

but it doesn’t stop him from frolicking in the sand with you. following you as the playful spirit comes out from zipping down the slide or climbing on top of the monkey bars.

he grabs your leg that hangs off from the monkey bars, your whiney “seonghwa!” echoing through the quiet night air. his laugh causes a smile to light up your face, the two of you in the playground until your body is weak and you’re laid out on the sand.

seonghwa checks his phone to see it’s almost 3:00, wondering aloud if their friends are back from the bar.

and that’s the reality check you need. remembering that your boyfriend’s ignoring you, you don’t know he you did and his best friend is the one here - comforting you, making you laugh and keeping your mind off all the things that are making you sad in the first place.

it’s a very sobering thought that makes your smile fall off your face, jumping up from your spot in the sand as you look at seonghwa.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you guys walk back to the house in silence, arms bumping ever so often in a way that both of you try to ignore. because even if this felt right, even if your time with seonghwa always feels so right and easy, it feels right with yeosang too.

and it’s not like you can just have them both.

gong home to an empty house was incredibly sobering.

your bed was cold, the house was quiet and you had to muffle stupid, disappointed cries into your pillow until you fell asleep.

but there was someone else sitting in the living room, waiting for the moment his friends come back so he can tear his one drunken asshole of a friend a new asshole.

and that’s exactly what he did when he heard the front door open, wooyoung and san’s loud “heeellloo!” echoing through the house causing his head to snap toward the door.

the boys shuffle in, saying their hi’s to seonghwa as they filter in the kitchen and start to raid the cabinets for food. yeosang’s the last to get through the door, his stumbling to a minimum and glassy eyes observing the house carefully.

seonghwa feels his jaw clench, the two boys meeting eyes as the black-haired boy approaches him quickly.

“did you find her?”

“how’d you know i went looking?”

“do you think i’m a fucking idiot?”

seonghwa clenches his jaw again, cracking his tension-filled neck as he looks at his friend. the boys hold a dark, intense eye contact that goes ignored by the rest of the boys - too consumed by their need for food, drunken ramblings, and wooyoung crying about keeping the dishes to a minimum so he doesn’t have to wash them hungover tomorrow.

“she was on the beach crying,” seonghwa eventually bites back, looking at his friend with every hint of disdain and anger. “heard that you said it wouldn’t even matter if you guys broke up or not.”

“that fucking jisung,” yeosang grumbles, seonghwa rolling his eyes and getting up from the couch. he feels yeosang falling behind him, half tempted to tell him to piss off before they’re both just outside the dirty blonde’s room.

“what are you so mad about? she’s my girlfriend, yeosang.”

“and you’re treating her like shit, yeosang. you have been for months. leaving her all the time, barely spending time with her, do you even notice how much she fucking hates going to those?”

“but she still does?” yeosang says, face pulled into confuson and irritaiton - he doesn’t like the way he’s feeling attacked and defesnive. “i never force her to go.”

“obviously she’s gonna go for you,” seonghwa growls, confused as to how his friend is so stupid and blind about this. “because she loves you, yeosang.”

“i love her, too,” he says, “she knows how much i love her.”

the look soenghwa gives him cause his eyes to narrow, anger spiking in him as he pushes his frined back. seognhwa’s eyes flare and he has to hold himself back, knowing that he’s already not in a spot to fight over you.

“and if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you loved her too. running to her rescue right away and nearly ripping my head off before.”

seonghwa doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, the silence doing more than words could at this point. and even drunk, yeosang knows what it means. can see in seonghwa’s face and body language that he has nothing to say because, yeah, he might love her, too.

“bullshit,” yeosang blurts out, a look of shock and horror on his face. seonghwa only shrugs his shoulders, attempting to walk away from yeosang before he pulls his friend back roughly.

“are you kidding me? y/n? out of every woman in this world?”

“i don’t know, yeosang, okay. it just fucking happened. i wasn’t ever gonna say anything to either of you.”

“wow, how noble of you. but you run off to save her when we get ino a fight.”

“because you were being a dick and she was upset,” seonghwa growls back, balling his fists in a similiar fashion to yeosang. “but i didn’t say anytihng to her. i just called you an asshole and said you were changing. not that she should leave you for me, although i’ve been tempted to steal her from you.”

a laugh of disbelief leaves yeosang, his head shaking as he looks over his friend.

“you’ve got fucking balls.”

and if it were anyone else saying this to him, they’d be beaten to a bloody pulp. but yeosang knows seonghwa would never make a move on you, actively try to steal you and get you away from him even if he wanted to.

he even had sinking suspicos that he had feelings for you, catching the way he’d look at you or his gaze would linger for just a little too lnog.

but he trusts his friend and he trusts you.

he was just the idiot now, acting as if you ddin’t mean the world to him and he doesn’t love you more than anyone else in this world.

“i’m gonna go apologize to her,” yeosang says, his gaze meeting seonghwa and making the dirty blonde nod his head. “thanks for taking care of her.”

the dirty blonde only nods his head, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watches him walk out the room and go to you.

yeosang walks in to se your sleeping form on the bed, creeping over to his bag and cringing at the sound of his zipper in the quiet room.

you wake to the sound of shuffling toward the door, eyes peeking open to see yeosang with his shirt off and slipping on pajama pants. he makes his way over to the bed, your eyes closing quickly as you attempt to keep your breaths even.

you think his soft chuckle is a sign that you’ve gotten caught, keeping up the act as the bed dips and he’s sitting beside you, running his fingers through your hair gently.

“i’m sorry, baby, i’m so sorry,” he hums quietly, keeping his eyes on you as a knot forms in his throat.

he hadn’t reaalized how much he’d been neglected you this summer.

how often he was leaving you and just being assured by the fact that you always had someone with you - mingi, san, wooyoung, even seonghwa, although that proved to be slightly dangerous now.

“i know you’re mad, love, but i’ll be better. i was shit faced when i said that to jisung and hyunjin.”

your eyes peak open, seeing his soft, apologetic eyes that makes a frown appear on his lips. your hand reaches up to touch his face, his skin smooth and slight sticky from the humid summer air.

“are you shit faced now? will you even remember this tomorrow?” you ask quietly, still hurt by his words and the way he acted.

he takes your hand from his ace and presses a kiss to each knuckle, shaking his head as he crawls into bed next to you.

“no,” he mumbles, positing himself close to your warm body. “i stopped drinking when no one could find you. your girlfriend going missing tends to sober a guy up.”

a small snort leaves your mouth as you shake your head, meeting his gaze with tired eyes.

“i wasn’t missing, i was on the beach.”

“with seonghwa.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, eyes roaming him carefully. you don’t quite know what to make of his tone or face, choosing to just nod your head in confirmation.

they had to have talked anyway - how else would he have known jisung told you what he said?

“i’m glad he was there for you when i wasn’t,” he mumbles quietly, a sad truth that he has to come to terms with despite knowing seonghwa’s feelings now.

“it’s okay, you’re here now,” you mumble, moving your body closer to his. he smiles against your head, wrapping his arm around you as he presses a kiss to your head.

but you can’t quite shake the feeling of seonghwa being there for you either.

the way he looked at you so sweetly and made you feel better with just his presence. his hold on you strong and gaze so soft, you can’t help but wonder if, somehow, you’ve also somehow fallen for yeosang’s best friend.

november - sophomore year

if someone told you over the summer that in four months, you’d be living with seonghwa and yeosang, you would’ve called them crazy. asked how the hell that arrangement came to be because why would a single man choose to live with a couple in the first place?

but really, the arrangement stemmed from all of you just having terrible luck.

you had started sophomore year on a terrible foot, not securing a single room this semester and getting a roommate you knew from the moment you met was gonna be a nightmare.

she was not only incredibly rude but messy. 

her clothes littered every inch of the floor by the second week of class and her boyfriend would come over at all hours of the day; you understood it was her room too but hearing them try (and fail) to have quiet sex at 2 a.m was not only disturbing but left you exhausted most weekdays.

“i can’t keep doing it,” you whined to yeosang, laid on top of him in his bed.

it was ironic that his apartment, the one with seven hyper active boys you once thought was the loudest place on earth, was now your place of solace.

it was where you went on weekends to get a good night sleep, not only quiet with no interruptions but incredibly comfortable with your head in boyfriend’s warm chest.

“i’m telling you, baby, ask to get a new room,” he says, a frown on his face at the bags under your eyes. 

his fingers swipes under your purple skin and you close your eyes at his gentle touch, always about ready to fall asleep when you’re with him.

“i did, they don’t have anything,” you whine, burying your face deeper into his chest. “i was even looking at apartments off campus but they’re all too expensive.”

yeosang quirks an eyebrow when he hears you say that, biting down on his lip as he contemplates telling you his idea.

because even before your terrible roommate dilemma, he’d been playing with the idea of asking you to move in together. you guys have almost been together for a year and this summer, even with the bumps in the road, had been nice.

waking up and going to sleep together every day had been the best part for him.always being with you and going about your day still with each other. food shopping, furniture shopping, even just watching tv in silence together.

he wanted more of that with you.

“why don’t we move in together?”

he doesn’t mean to blurt it out so harshly but the words just fall out, your head snapping to him with wide eyes.

“what?”

“i... i know it seems kind of sudden but why don’t we move in together? we can split the rent then,” he says, his arm wrapping around your waist tightly. “we basically lived together this summer and that was nice, wasn’t it?” he hums, grinding his body into yours a little too purposely to be innocent.

you roll your eyes despite the smile pulling at your lips, moving away from his chest to peer up at him.

could he be serious? does he really wanna live with you?

“would you really wanna live with me?” you ask quietly, his eyebrows pulling together at the meekness in your tone.

“of course i would, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to cheek sweetly. “why wouldn’t i?”

but even with his reassurance and sweet words, you still felt reluctantly.

it was a big step that scared you not only for financial reasons but because you know how you are. you couldn’t even have a roommate your first semester of college and now you’re gonna live with someone permanently?

but the more days pass with you living with your roommate, the more you realize you would much rather have yeosang. even if it meant taking a big next step with him as your boyfriend.

you walked up to his apartment ready to tell him you were ready to move in together, that you guys have to start looking immediately before you just insist on sleeping on the bench outside your dorms.

but when you open the door to this house, you’re met with chaos.

absolute, disastrous chaos. 

voices screaming, water everywhere and, most importantly, all of them running around shirtless and packing their bags; you suppose this is why yeosang hadn’t been answering your texts.

“um.. what is happening?” you ask loudly upon entering, all the boys heads snapping to you.

you’re able to make out the words water line breakage, flood, drown to death and parents house, the several loud voices rendering you unable to say or hear  anything properly.

yeosang pushes his way through and explains that their apartment is well on its way to being destroyed, a faulty waterline that the apartment manager didn’t take care of threatening to completely flood the building.

“what? where are you guys supposed to go now?!”

and that right there is how your current situation came about. 

moving into a one bedroom apartment with your boyfriend and his best friend, the black-haired boy looking over seonghwa with a particularly harsh look in his eye.

the rest of them were either able to secure dorm rooms at the boys dormitory or move in with their parents who lived close by - but seonghwa’s parents lived out of state now and the apartment he was one step away from closing on fell through, thus leaving him homeless.

this unsettled yeosang greatly, knowing his best friend was secretly in love with his girlfriend still.

“you’re crazy if you think i’d try anything with her at all, let alone with you fucking here, yeosang, shit.”

“i already told you just to tell her so shit doesn’t have to be awkward,” yeosang said, whisper-yelling as you set up furniture in your shared bedroom.

“telling her would make shit more awkward, she doesn’t have to know,” seonghwa argued back, looking toward the bedroom with a cautious look on his face.

ever since he outed his confession to yeosang this summer, he’d been trying to act like the same. 

distance himself physically but remain there for you emotionally - laugh with you, smile with you, act as a friend to you while not pushing the boundary when it came to how he felt about you.

“i don’t know how she doesn’t,” yeosang says honestly, looking at seonghwa with not a hint of anger in his eyes. “you make it pretty obvious.”

the dirty blonde narrows his eyes at the boy, punching him in the arm lightly before setting up the couch that now doubles as his bed - living like a true single bachelor.

you make your way out of your new bedroom, the house almost completely set up with furniture and decor. 

a frown crosses your face when you see seonghwa setting up the couch with pillows and blankets, poking the cushions with your finger as you look at him.

“seonghwa, are you sure this is gonna be okay? sleeping on a couch isn’t comfortable.”

“it’s a futon, y/n, they’re meant for that,” seonghwa teases, a small smile lighting up his face. “it’ll be fine.”

“but are you sure? what if you start to get-”

“he’ll be fine, baby,” yeosang says from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle as his eyes bore into seonghwa. “you don’t have to worry about him.”

the dirty blonde rolls his eyes before looking to you, reassuring you with a small smile and nod. he plops down on the couch and adjusts himself comfortably, giving you a thumbs up as he looks you over happily.

“it’s good, i swear. it’s new so i just gotta break it in.”

“maybe you can invite a girl over. finally get laid,” yeosang mocks, seonghwa biting the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t say a snappy comment; but you, you of course, have other ideas about how to break it in.

“that’s a great idea! let’s have a movie night!”

and before the two boys can protest, you’re running off to your room and writing in the group chat for the boys to come over at eight with snacks and a list of scary movies to watch.

“she already runs the show around here, doesn’t she?” yeosang grumbles, a smirk crossing seonghwa’s face as he nods his head.

“duh.”

“duh! you never go back in the house, are they fucking nuts!?” wooyoung shouts hours later, the apartment completely dark apart from the glow of the tv and jongho’s pumpkin pecan waffles candle (the one he insisted on bringing to set the mood).

you share a knowing smile with seonghwa, the dirty blonde finding himself in the worst seat of the house - directly next to a chatty, exuberant wooyoung.

yeosang and hongjoong had jumped up and claimed the chaises of the other couch, you spending the first two and a half movies curled on top of yeosang until your side became numb and you stole mingi’s seat.

now you sat beside seonghwa, bumping his arm lightly and giggling any time he made a passing comment about wooyoung or the movie or anything else he found utterly stupid or loud.

“who do you think would be the first to die?” you whisper to seonghwa, a smirk on his face as he looks over at you. his lips quirk as he thinks, looking over the pile of his friends laid out in his new living room.

he catches yeosang’s eyes on him, the boy watching carefully before he looks back to the screen casually.

“definitely mingi,” seonghwa mumbles in your ear, a smile pulling at your lips as you watch the boy clutch onto a blanket tighter and bury himself closer to yunho. “he’s a coward.

“maybe,” you mutter, a yawn escaping you as you adjust your position on the couch. your curled legs hit seonghwa but neither of you move, pulling the fuzzy white blanket tighter around you.

“but i think it’d be jongho to be honest,” you mumble, tired eyes still focused on the screen as you him and talk hushly. “it’s always the person you’d least expect.”

a small chuckle leaves seonghwa’s mouth as he nods his head in agreement, wishing he could put his arm around you so you could fall asleep against him more comfortably.

but he just keeps his arm and legs against you, watching the movie until he suddenly feels the pressure of your head on his shoulder.

he looks down to see your eyes closed, hair splayed over your face as even breaths leave you. you look so at peace and innocent in your sleep, not even realizing when his hand reaches out to move away the strands.

his eyes move to yeosang’s when he realizes what he’s done, looking to the boy who’s still adamantly watching the movie and chewing on popcorn. he settles himself back and tries to relax, feel the warmth of your body on his and tries not to get to comfortable with how nice it feels to have you against him.

a small whine causes him to look down at you a few moments later, his hand reaching down to rub against your blanket-covered leg calmingly. he barely realizes he’s doing it, not until his phone vibrates next to him and he sees yeosang’s name appear.

his eyes shoot up to see the boy looking at him, jaw clenched and eyebrow raised as he nods his head toward his phone.

yeosang [1:04 a.m.] you’re pushing it dick. try not to look so happy about my gf sleeping on you.

the dirty blonde is quickly humbled, removing his hand from your leg before trining his attention back to the screen; but the scene is one yeosang can’t quite shake off.

not because of something like petty jealously or a bad feeling in his stomach. simply because it reminds him of the first time you fell asleep with him, just a random night where you dozed off on his shoulder and he thought nothing of it.

he was listening to the sound of your breathing, the tv just white noise in the background as his own eyes threatened to close.

you’d only been dating for a few weeks, enjoying the closeness that comes with watching movies as you both stay in for the night. he wasn’t quite sure when you dozed off, he just knew when he asked if you wanted to watch the next part of twilight, you didn’t answer.

(yes, twilight was your idea and no, he doesn’t enjoy it or want to know how edward and bella’s wedding is gonna turn out).

he deices to replay the first one, just noise to have on in the background as he starts to doze off himself.

he’s stirred awake, however, when your body lurches forward, a gasp leaving your mouth as you shoot up from your sleep quickly. his eyes are wide as he looks up at you, thinking you’re on the verge of a panic attack or nightmare and fully prepared to help in any way he can.

but he sees your eyes are more so full of shock, looking at him and the surroundings of his room like you can’t believe you’re still here.

“are you okay? what happened?”

“i... did i fall asleep?

“uh... yeah?”

you look to be in such disbelief, he doesn’t know what to make of it. is it that odd that you would’ve fallen asleep? it’s late and dark and you said you hadn’t slept too great the night before.

you look to see his face pulled in confusion, looking at you with a mix of concern and bewilderment that makes you shake off the weird feeling inside of you.

“sorry, it’s just... i can usually never ever fall asleep around people,” you explain to him, a problem since childhood that rendered you unable to attend sleepovers or even share a room with cousins on family vacations.

your parents and doctors said it was probably just that you weren’t tired but it felt as if they were deep rooted trust issues of some kind. not allowing yourself to be unconscious or unaware in the presence of other people.

but you didn’t realize any of that with yeosang; you’ve never felt as comfortable with anyone as you do with him.

“ever since i was a kid, i could only fall asleep alone. it’s like i was too scared around other people or something,” you chuckle out, a small smirk crossing yeosang’s face as he pecks a kiss to your nose.

“hmm.. guess you just really like and trust me, huh?”

yeosang bites the inside of his cheek as the memory comes back to him, watching as your sleeping figure moves closer to seonghwa with a content look on your face.

he can only smirk at the way seonghwa seems conflicted, looking down at you with the softest, sappiest expression he’s ever seen his colder friend wear before they move to him.

yeosang moves his eyes away, training them back on the terrible scary movie that, for whatever reason, has mingi absolutely shitting his pants.

the black haired boy wakes you up at the end of the movie, sitting on the other side of you and mumbling that he’s gonna bring you to your room. you barely stir so he lifts you up effortlessly, a tired whine leaving you before you smell his familiar scent.

your eyes pop open to see him looking down at you, a sweet smile on his face that causes one to break out across your own face.

“hi.”

“hi, love. you fell asleep.”

you nod tiredly, face red and hair messy as he places you down on the bed gently. you curl up and under the blanket, letting out a tired whine as you hold your arms out with a pout.

he snorts as he joins you immediately, moving in next to you and sighing contently when your head rests on his chest. his hand runs through your hair. gently, slow and calming in a way he knows will quickly put you back to sleep.

but he needs to ask you one thing tonight. he needs to settle this once and for all so he can stop his brain from racing and thoughts from spiraling.

“baby?”

“hm?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

even in a tired daze, the question throws you off.

makes you snap your head up and rest your chin on his chest, eyes narrowed and eyebrows shooting up your forehead as you look at your boyfriend of almost a year.

“what?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

he repeats it like it’s a simple question, so straight forward and casual that you would think he was joking if it wasn’t for how serious his expression is.

“i... you’re my boyfriend, yeosang? why would i like seonghwa?”

he bites his lip at the confused expression on your tired face, twirling a piece of your hair at the top before letting it bounce back.

“was just a question, love.”

you look at him in complete shock and confusion, trying to decipher any anger or jealously on his face.

“is it because i fell asleep on him? i didn’t even know, yeosang, i just-”

“no, baby, no,” he’s quick to assure, his hands cupping your face gently. “it was really just a question, okay? i’m not mad or anything.”

you look at your boyfriend but see nothing but honesty in his eyes, reluctantly nodding your head before resting your head back on his chest. he hums quietly as you close your eyes, his chest feeling different than seonghwa’s but still just as comforting.

you don’t even have the time to wonder why you’re even thinking about that, comparing yeosang and seonghwa’s chests and smells, until you’re fast asleep again.

it took four days for you to finally admit it to yeosang.

and it wasn’t even that you lied at the time he asked - you just didn’t even realize.

you didn’t realize that, for longer than you can remember, you might’ve always had a bit of a crush on seonghwa. entranced by his handsome face and the way he carried himself.

how he always looked out for you and made you feel safe and cared for despite not owing you a thing.

but it wasn’t something that was overwhelmingly noticeable. 

you hadn’t thought about seonghwa when you were with yeosang. you hadn’t wished he was him or that the dirty blonde was the one who let you borrow a pen the first day of college.

but you did eventually come to love seonghwa. 

depend on him and look forward to seeing him and knowing that, if you didn’t have him in your life, your life would feel emptier.

but why had yeosang asked that? did he know before you did? did he see something in the way you looked or acted around his best friend? why wasn’t he mad about it?

“we can have a talk about it if you want,” yeosang said when you confessed all of this to him, sitting on your bed with a heavy pit in your stomach. 

“in fact, i think we’ll definitely have to talk about somethings. but for now... i think you should tell seonghwa.”

and if this whole situation wasn’t bizarre enough, admitting to your boyfriend that you liked another man, that surely did it. your boyfriend telling you to confess your feelings to him even though he was his best friend and you two were very much together.

“what?”

“tell seonghwa that you like him, baby,” he mumbles, his hands holding your face gently. there’s so much confusion and hesitation in your eyes he almost wants to laugh but he supposes he can’t blame you.

this whole situation is weird. and he doesn’t know how he knows this is the direction your relationship should go - he’s just felt it inside of himself for the past few weeks.

“stop looking so confused and just trust me, okay? tell him you like him and see what he says.”

so that’s exactly what you do, despite all the confusion still swirling inside of you; because as confused as you are about this entire situation, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you do like seonghwa.

you love him, even. not just as a friend and someone who’s been there for you but more. the way you feel comforted by his physical touch, physical being, how sometimes you’ve felt like, if you didn’t know any better and if things were different, your lips would’ve met with no hesitation.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you find the dirty blonde in the kitchen, hunched over a pot of boiling water as he carefully puts in a bag of ramen.

“seonghwa?” you say, creeping up on him with your hands intertwined and a blush already creeping its way on your body.

“oh, hey, y/n. you want some?”

you peek over at the chicken flavored ramen, your nose twitching when you say the bold, red, spicy printed on it; he lips quirk up into a smirk upon seeing your face.

“sorry. forgot you don’t like spicy food.”

you watch seonghwa stand over the stove for a few minutes, plopping yourself up on the counter to watch him silently. he continues what he’s doing with your silent presence there, completely going about his routine until he tells you to sit at the table with him.

there’a few more moments of silence, just him slurping and your occasional laugh until he finally realizes you came out here to say something.

“so... what’s up?”

you peek up at the boy watching you carefully, slurping a noodle into his mouth and watching some excess broth fall into the bowl.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you wanna tell me something?” he asks, his questioning tone making your heart pound. “or ask me something? you’ve been playing with your fingers for the past fifteen minutes.”

you let out a sigh as you drop your hands to your lap, watching him with a look of mock disdain on your face; curse this boy for knowing you so well.

“it’s a little... random,” you begin, not quite sure how to approach this. 

you’ve never confessed to someone before, especially not per the request of your boyfriend, but you have to imagine these are all the feelings that comes with it.

nervousness in your stomach and warmth fluttering throughout your body, hoping and praying that he like you back because if not, you’re gonna ruin this friendship and that’s not something you want at all.

“and maybe even shocking. but... i think i have to tell you and i hope you don’t think it’s weird. it’s something i just realized within these past few days and i... i don’t wanna ruin anything between us.”

his eyebrows pull together at your words, dropping his utensils on the table as he looks over your face carefully. his stomach’s quickly consumed by nervous, anxiety-ridden knots, looking over your face for any hint of emotion.

but you just seem to look as nervous as him.

“you wouldn’t, you couldn’t,” seonghwa assures gently, his voice deep and soft as he speaks to you and only you; you’re freaking him the fuck out but he’s trying to remain as calm as possible.

“what is it?”

you bite down on your lip as you look at seonghwa, his deep brown eyes staring at you so intensely it makes your stomach flutter. you don’t know how you didn’t reaize sooner that you liked him.

“i.... i like you,” you tell him, voice shaky and soft but the words already out - you’ve said them and there’s no going back. “i like you, seonghwa. a lot.”

it feels as if there’s a giant weight off your shoulders the second you say it, the butterflies in your stomach at an all time high. it feels good to finally say this, finally realize and admit it and let it out into the universe.

“i think i might even love you the way i love yeosang. i didn’t realize because of him, i guess, but now i know i love you both. i don’t know if that’s normal or possible but i really do, seonghwa. i hope that’s not weird for-”

the first thing you taste is the faint spice of chicken broth, unfamiliar but remarkable lips covering yours that you meet back instantly. seonghwa hums against your mouth as he pulls your chair closer to him, the sound of it scraping against the floor going unnoticed by both of you.

you’re only consumed by the feeling of his lips, the small noises leaving your mouth and the desperation of his kiss. how it feels like he’s been wanting to do this for so long, kiss you and touch you and show you how much he’s loved you from afar.

his hand grips your face as he pulls you closer, his deeply mumbled moan of your name against your lips causing you to whine against him. allow his tongue into your mouth and giggle when they collide into one another.

all the kissing stops though the second you hear another voice, the sound of the footsteps approaching you before a hand smacks into the concrete wall harshly.

“i told you to confess. you guys are making out?”

february - junior year

the first thing you learned about polyamorous relationships was that they’re all very different.

the way they come about, the rules in which couples establish, how and why people choose to be in them. there’s not some one size fits all for any relationship in life and that stands true for you, yeosang and seonghwa.

admittedly, things were weird in the beginning. navigating between yeosang and seonghwa comfortably and getting used to having not one but two boyfriends.

there were insecurities to quell on both sides, naturally, and you learned how do that.

assure yeosang that he was enough and that you stayed in love with him for a reason. assure seonghwa that he was enough and that you fell in love with him for a reason too.

many reasons that all became too much and morphed into one another, rendering you, both, loyal and locked down to two men who constantly tested you.

the first test being the blanket dilemma.

without fail, no matter the weather and no matter the sleeping position, you woke up without a blanket. 

you were either curled into seonghwa’s warm body, your legs intertwined and his arms around you, or had your back trapped against yeosang’s chest.

his arms wound tightly around your waist, the steady rise and fall of his breath on your skin as seonghwa laid there with the queen size blanket half on him and half on the floor; that’s what this morning was like, too.

you slowly untangled yourself from yeosang, crawling over to seonghwa until you plopped yourself down on him clumsily. he stirred underneath you, attempting to move and stretch his body with the weight of you on top of him.

you bend down to peck his cheek lightly, smiling when his handsome, sleeping face barely changes. 

you decide to play a little bit more, moving your body back and forth against him teasingly. the movements somehow wake the black-haired boy next to you, his eyes popping open and a smirk on his face as he watches you grind against seonghwa.

“what are you doing, baby?”

his voice causes you to jump, a quiet chuckle leaving him as you move your arms to showcase the stolen blankets.

“he can’t keep doing this!” you whisper-scream, a look of frustration on his face. “every morning it’s either you or him stealing all the blankets and leaving us freezing.”

yeosang rolls closer so he’s in your warm spot in the middle, looking up at you as his hand rests on your waist. you’re only wearing one of his white t-shirts, your nipples peeking through the material not at all helping his morning wood.

“and you think grinding over his dick is gonna help?”

your cheeks flush as you stick your tongue out at him immaturely, tuning back to run your fingers through seonghwa’s dirty blonde hair. 

the slow, calmingly movements cause tired groans to leave his mouth, his eyes eventually popping open before a smirk crosses his face.

“hi, baby girl,” his deep morning voice drones, one hand slipping past your shirt to rest on your waist. “what are you doing?”

“you stole the blanket again,” you whine, the pout on your face one he just wants to kiss off with you on top of him like this.

“i didn’t mean too,” he hums, moving you along by the hips as he feels his cock grow harder. “you had yeosang to keep you warm, no?”

the two share of look, both of them more often than no waking up horny and ready to take you. it’s not something you’re ignorant of either, watching them look at you before, suddenly, you’re pushed down onto our back.

“because, you know pretty girl, we may take the blankets but you take up a whole lot of room,” seonghwa says, his hands running through your messy morning hair.

he’s never slept with someone who kicks as much as you. who, even though you’re the smallest in the bed, take up the most space by far.

“remember the night you almost kicked me off?” he hums, a smirk on his face at the memory. his hand trails down your face, thumb pressing on your lip before he moves his hand over your chin and down your neck.

yeosang smirks when he watches you swallow nervously, his hand on your hip slipping between your thighs carefully. he doesn’t make any moves to touch you, just holds your inner thigh and allows his thumb to move slowly up and down your skin.

“he’s got a point baby,” yeosang’s voice mumbles, slightly deeper than even seonghwa’s morning voice. “you do take up a lot of room for being the smallest one here.”

with their hands on you and an intense feeling building in the air, you’re quickly being humbled. 

seonghwa’s hand trailing over your white t-shirt until it’s ghosting over your nipples, the palm of his hand on the sensitive bud causing your breath to quicken.

or that could be because yeosang’s hand is so close to your pussy, just a few inches away from touching your bare, growing wetness.

“i... i don’t mean too,” you say, growing more and more submissive and ready to whine as your two boyfriends start to cloud your senses; you were scolding them and now you’re the one being punished - how is that fair? 

seonghwa’s hand gently guides your shirt up until your bare chest hits the cold air, a deeply mumbled “fuck,” leaving him before he dips his head down and attaches his mouth to your nipple.

you let out a surprised gasp, sensations of pleasure shooting right between your legs. yeosang is readily there with his long, skilled fingers, toying with your slit and teasingly running up and down the growing wetness.

“you might not mean to,” yeosang says, eyes peeking up to see seonghwa’s face in your chest and your mouth thrown back in pleasure. “but you still do it, don’t you?”

his finger slides into you easily, a loud moan escaping you that has seonghwa smiling against your boob. his other hands move over to tweak with your nipple, yeosang keeping up his movements as he curls his finger inside of you.

you’ve barely been up for ten minutes but you feel yourself about to come, both the boys far too skilled and ready to give you pleasure however and whenever you want it.

you cry out when yeosang slips another finger inside of you, seonghwa disconnecting his mouth from your nipple to kiss you deeply. skilled tongue slipping in your mouth as his lips part on yours and you’re kissing back just as desperately.

chasing your orgasm as your hips buck into yeosang’s hand.

“are you about to come?” seonghwa mumbles when he pulls back, his hand trailing over your neck and squeezing at the sides lightly. “has your pretty little pussy had enough? are you gonna come just from yeosang’s hand?”

“y-yes,” you moan out, hand reaching out to hold onto seonghwa’s shoulder. “and your mouth.”

“please, he didn’t do shit,” yeosang mutters, his fingers fucking into you with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

they both watch with lust in their eyes as you moan loudly, eyes rolling back as you throw your head into the pillow. yeosang removes his hand immediately, tapping at your hip gently.

“turn around.”

but seonghwa can tell immediately what yeosang wants to do, the dirty blonde slapping his hand away and instead gripping your hips tightly.

“you got to touch her,” seonghwa growls, bitter over the fact he didn’t get to make you ome first thing in the morning. “now i get to fuck her.”

“you waited too long to make your move,” the black-haired boy smirks, the double meaning in his words making him roll his eyes. “that’s why i got her first.”

“well, maybe if you didn’t-”

“stop,” you whine, the growing feeling of wet empitness making you frown at your two boyfriends. “one of you, please. the o-other can fuck my mouth. i’ll be good, i promise.”

seonghwa and yeosang share a look before the dirty blonde flips you over and pulls up your hips, rising your ass in the air as he holds himself on his knees. the bed is firm enough so that he doesn’t sink down, rubbing over your ass gently before landing a loud, resounding smack.

“you’re always good for us, baby girl,” he says, trailing his dick up and down your wet slit. “you’re always so so good.”

you whine as he teases you, knowing that, with seonghwa, it’s better if you’re polite and wait. he likes seeing you desperate and whining, always waiting until he says it’s okay to buck your hips or chase your own orgasm.

but he doesn’t give you the time today.

because one second you’re empty and wet and ready to scream and then the next, his hips are smacking into yours and he’s fucking the life out of you. snapping them just the right way and in just the right spots for you to be crying out into your hot and stuffy bedroom.

“seonghwa,” you moan, the slapping of skin and quiet grunts filling the room.

it’s all halted, however, when yeosang’s in front of you, his hard cock just inches from your face as he looks down at you. there’s a smirk on his face seeing you so fucked out and desperate because of them, guiding your mouth to him and smiling when you take his cock without a second thought.

your tongue laps at the tip, swirling around and around until you sink down on it further. you hold back a gag when he hits the back of your throat, your head getting into a groove that has yeosang cursing and groaning your name harshly.

“there you go, baby,” you hear seonghwa growl from behind you, his hand reaching around you play with your clit. “you take us both so well. filling you up and making you feel good, right baby?”

“r-right, seonghwa,” you moan, eyes rolling back when his cock starts hitting a certain spot inside you. he can feel you’re about to come by the way you tighten around him, by the way your head starts bobbing harsher and yeosang’s grunts grow louder and deeper.

“come first, baby. it’s okay,” seonghwa says, partially because they always want you to come first and partially because he knows he’s about to bust inside of you.

it takes you clenching and throwing your hips back against his for him to come, one last snap of his hips causing you both to release. you’re moaning against yeosang’s cock when he releases too, the vibrations and knowledge that you just came with his cock in your mouth far too much.

the room is a mess of bodily fluids, heavy breathing and sweat but it doesn’t matter. you collapse on top of the bed as seonghwa pulls out of you and yeosang massages the sides of your aw gently.

the black-haired boy mumbles sweet nothings to you as seonghwa gets a warm rag, cleaning between your legs before he kisses the top of your head sweetly.

“you did good, baby,” he mumbles, collapsing on the bed next to you and wrapping arm around your waist. the three of you lay in silence for a few moments, heart rates calming and senses coming back before yeosang looks at you with a soft, sweetness in his eyes.

“oh. and happy valentine’s day baby.”

you’ll never forget your first valentine’s day as a couple with yeosang and seonghwa.

it was only a few months after you confessed to seonghwa during your sophomore year, the three of you just starting out and establishing rules for your new relationship.

they had all been strangely easy to work out, the number one rule being to always communicate. 

be open and honest about everything one of you may being feeling, so there’s not a spiral of miscommunication and tears the way there was that one disconnected summer.

the transition had been strangely easy for all of you too, probably because yeosang knew seonghwa liked you way before he called his friend out.

the parts of it that had been hard, however, was something you least expected - telling the rest of the boys and reserving a table for three on valentine’s day.

“wait... you’re all going to dinner?” san asked, looking at the three of you with confusion on his face. “can we come? what the hell.”

“you’re not sending us off the bar again but instead leaving us alone? why can seonghwa go but not us? we wanna spend time with, y/n, too.”

“because i’m her boyfriend, bud. who are you?”

seonghwa’s deep, sarcastic voice halted all the whines and complaints immediately, everyone’s eyes wide as they look to yeosang. the black-haired boy can only smirk as he feels eyes on him, a reassuring nod that sends the house into chaos again.

asking what kind of swinger shit is going on and how long it’d been going on under their roof without them knowing.

“it’s not swinger shit, dickhead, we’re just both dating her. like... one cohesive unit that live together and take care of her. me and seonghwa both agreed to it. in fact, i think it was more so my idea.”

“it was definitely your idea,” you tell him, seonghwa’s arm around your shoulder as he watches you talk with  smile. “you’re the one who told me to tell seonghwa i liked him!”

a snort leaves yeosang and seonghwa as there’s a mix of different reviews in the crowd.

hongjoong and yunho are looking on supportively, the only two boys who had lingering suspicions about seonghwa’s feelings for you.

wooyoung, san and jongho are only slightly confused, a mix of happy and cautious like they don’t know what’s about to happen but are here for it.

and mingi is by far the most baffled, looking between you, seonghwa and yeosang before shaking his head in bewilderment.

"straight people are so weird.”

you nearly spit out your drink at dinner reliving the story with yeosang and seonghwa, the table full of meat, pasta and bread as you celebrate valentine’s day together.

going out on dates was something you also had to get used to, usually surrounded by lovey-dovey couples who only had eyes for each other; but for you guys, the dynamic was obviously different.

you’d hold seonghwa’s hand while smiling lovingly at yeosang. yeosang would have his hand on your lower back while you and seonghwa played footsie under the table.

if anyone were nosy or curious about your dynamic, they’d be able to pick up on it really quick - but you three didn’t care. it wasn’t anyone’s business but your own and as long as you guys were all happy, it didn’t matter.

“he’s such a little shit,” seonghwa mutters, a giggle leaving your mouth as yeosang raises a fork to your mouth. you open up happily, biting into a piece of chicken and chewing on the flavorful food.

you three eat until you’re ready to explode, seonghwa and yeosang splitting the check before walking out to your car. 

you half expect to go back home, lay out in bed with them and spend the rest of the night watching cheesy romantic comedy, until you realize you’re in the car for a while.

your head resting on the chair as you turn to look at yeosang.

“where are we going?”

“it’s a surprise,” he mumbles, your mouth dropping open as you look at seonghwa in the back seat.

“wait.. do you know?”

he shrugs his shoulders with a smirk pulling at his lips, a whine leaving your mouth as you wack both of them in the arms.

“that’s not fair! please tell me, too!”

“we’re almost there, baby, c’mon,” seonghwa mumbles, moving closer to take your face in his hands. “come back here with me.”

“no,” yeosang says, taking one hand off the wheel to hold your arm tightly; but seonghwa’s at an advantage, picking you up over the console and dragging you up and onto his lap.

he drowns out the sounds of yeosang’s yelling, securing you onto his lap as you straddle him with a chastising look on your face.

“that was dangerous,” you mumble, a snort leaving him as he shakes his head at you.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles, your lips meeting in a kiss that you meet back immediately. 

yeosang looks in the rearview mirror when he hears the sounds of lips smacking and muffled moans, throwing an empty water bottle that just misses seonghwa’s head.

“i’m not your fucking uber driver,” yeosang snaps, “don’t make out when i can’t join.”

“hear that, baby? he wants to kiss me, too.”

you muffle your giggles into his chest, seonghwa and yeosang bantering back and forth as you rest your head on seonghwa’s chest. he’s warm and toned underneath you, the gentle lull of the car causing your eyes to close.

you’re not sure if you fall asleep, you think you’re in that weird space of consciousness and slumber, when you hear yeosang mumbling your name. his lips are by your ear and you look up at him sleepily, a smile on his face when he tells you to wake up.

you look around to see you’re still in the car, the black leather interior one you’re very used to by now. but what you’re not used to seeing is the ocean outside the windows, a gasp leaving your mouth that quickly wakes you up.

you run out and onto the beach, yeosang trailing behind as he shouts your name with a smile.

seonghwa and him had already set up the blankets on the sand, a cooler full of drinks and snacks off the side.

“yeosang told me this was your first date,” seonghwa mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist. “gotta admit, pretty smooth even for him.”

a smile brightens your face as you peck his lips, intertwining your hands before reaching out to grab yeosang’s.

you drag the two boys out to the freezing ocean, both of their desperate pleas to not freeze their balls off going unheard by you. you just giggle and pull them out further, squealing when the freezing water hits you feet and you jump up.

they both move to catch you, yeosang catching one leg and seonghwa catching the other as you hold yourself above them.

“baby, this was your fucking idea,” yeosang complans, the smile on his face proving he’s not bad in the slightest.

you frolic around with the two boys until your feet are numb. giggling and squealing when seonghwa catches you around the waist and pecking yeosang’s lips when you fall back and collapses on top of you.

“i love you,” he mumbles against your mouth, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you smile against him.

you spend the rest of the night cuddled between them, your head on seonghwa’s stomach as yeosang sits next to you, playing with your fingers and blowing hot air on your cold hands.

it’s calm and peaceful and everything you’ve ever wanted. 

there’s a different type of feeling in the air compared to the first time you were here with just yeosang, something that feels right and sweet and like without, both, yeosang and seonghwa here, it just wouldn’t be the same.

“i love you,” seonghwa mumbles when you look up at him, his hands twirling through your hair as he bends down to peck your lips.

all your cheeks are red from the wind and the tips of your fingers are freezing but you don’t wanna leave just yet. you just wanna stay here together, enjoy the silence and the crash of the waves and the occasional squawk of a brave seagull.

maybe even wait until the sun comes up to watch the sunrise, if you guys don’t completely freeze to death together.

january - senior year

your trip to the mountains doubled as a two year anniversary/graduation celebration.

the three of you were still as strong as ever, dealing with bumps in the road that all couples went through: fits of miscommunication, times of insecurity, even acknowledging that, sometimes, you need seonghwa and yeosang for different things.

seonghwa’s the boyfriend who understands you. 

is similiar to you and knows the way your introverted mind works. you go to him when you feel most uncomfortable in a crowd, like at frat parties or in bars where you know yeosang just thrives.

but yeosang’s the one who pushes you to do extraordinary things - maybe not even extraordinary, just things you normally wouldn’t do; he’s the one who pushed you to do you research with your professor that ended up allowing you to graduate one semester early with them.

so in order to celebrate, you three rented a house in the mountains with one bedroom, a giant movie room and a hot tub on the balcony.

spent a week in the snowy, picturesque country where you lounged around in bed, soaked in the hot tub and became even more sure that this is what you wanted for the rest of your life.

to wake up next to seonghwa and yeosang, even if it meant having the blankets ripped off of you in the night.

to live with them and build a life together with them, deal with the bickering that comes with dating best friends who have known each other for their entire lives.

to act surprised when, in a few years when you’re settled with jobs and a house, they buy you matching wedding bands to show off the fact that you’re theirs.

#very mixed feelings about this #u can absolutely tell when i was losing steam jfdkkdf #but whatever #happy vday get urselfs not one but two bfs #seonghwa #yeosang #seonghwa fluff #yeosang fluff #yeosang angst #seonghwa angst #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seonghwa imagines #yeosang imagines #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut

[dilfgmancoolatta]

can yuo write angsty freelatta........-benryphobic

@benryphobic

Gordon looks down at the half-eaten pizza, his appetite almost completely gone. He was initially suspicious of it- as much as he trusted Tommy, he had no idea what Mr. Coolatta’s intentions were. But after seeing everyone else dig in (well, everyone who had made it out of the boss battle alive), he let himself give in. It was horrible, but horrible in the way that most Chuck E. Cheese pizza generally is. Mr. Coolatta pulled out all the stops for this one, huh?

He sighs, gently nudging his paper plate away. He’s not really sure what to do. He doubts Mr. Coolatta would react well to being asked when they could leave- he seems really protective of his son.

Gordon decides to get some fresh air. Quietly pushing in his chair, he sneaks away from the group, Mr. Coolatta and Bubby seemingly distracting by a story Dr. Coomer was telling from the Engineering department.

He breathes a sigh of relief once the door closes behind him. He looks up at the sky as he slides down the wall. It’s strikingly beautiful, yet chilling. It’s a sky Gordon’s never seen before, with a large spiral galaxy, that definitely wasn’t the Milky Way, taking up much of it. Planets upon planets and stars upon stars that Gordon couldn’t recognize.

“That’s Andromeda o- up there, by the way.”

Gordon jolts, feeling his heart rate spike, before laughing. “Tommy, don’t scare me like that, man. Kinda still on edge.”

“Oh-” Tommy covers his mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Freeman, I thought you knew I was out here.”

Gordon waves him off. “It’s not a big deal. Just- Thought I should let you know.” Tommy nods. “Andromeda’s a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Mmhm! I told my dad once that Andromeda w- is my favorite galaxy. And after that, he always made sure Andromeda was the biggest thing in the night sky in his pocket dimensions.”

“That’s… honestly pretty sweet.”

Tommy nods, sitting down next to Gordon. “My Dad’s a good guy, even if he is pretty weird sometimes. Though I guess I can’t talk.”

“I don’t think you’re weird, Tommy.”

Tommy looks at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Freeman, I wouldn’t be so sure-”

“Listen, we’ve got a lab grown human, a man who’s been cloned, like, 1000 times, and then there’s you. I don’t think the identity of your dad makes you weird.”

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, but seemingly decides against it. Instead, he decides on a simple “Thank you.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments, staring up into the night sky.

“Did something happen at the party?” Tommy asks. “I hope my dad wasn’t being weird about the Chuck E. Cheese debate-thing.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I just needed some fresh air. Gordon sensory overload time was coming up, I could feel it. Wasn’t that hungry either.”

Tommy nods. “I understand. That… happens to me too. The only reason I could handle the arcade inside is because my dad makes the machines quieter-” He frowns and scrunches his nose. “But you don’t want to hear about all that.” He waves him off.

And there it is.

It’s a pattern Gordon’s noticed throughout their time in Black Mesa. Every time Tommy seemed like he was about to express any negative emotion, he’d change the subject and say something about Gordon not wanting to hear it.

So he takes a chance.

“But what if I do want to hear it?”

That wasn’t the answer Tommy seemed to be expecting.

“I mean- there’s not much more to it. It’s just me not e- liking loud noises. Nothing all that interesting.”

“It’s not about it being interesting, Tommy. You don’t have to dismiss your own feelings.” Tommy looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed in an unsure look. “You’ve been, like, my emotional rock throughout Black Mesa. You’ve gotta let me return the favor.”

“I d- really don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“Why would I?”

Tommy looks away from Gordon. “I’ve learned from experience, Mr. Freeman. There isn’t r- any way for someone like me to be upset without being treated like a child throwing a tantrum. And then they talk about you like you’re not even in the room-”

Oh.

Unfortunately, the experience is all-too-familiar to Gordon.

“I’ve gotten the same shit- it’s awful.”

“You... have? I never thought that of you- I mean, anyone in your situation might- would be a little on edge.”

“I mean, even before the Black Mesa incident. People would either use kiddie gloves around me or flat out tell me I was overreacting whenever I was slightly upset. So I do somewhat get it, and you don’t need to expect anything like that from me.”

Tommy nods, a small smile beginning to form. It’s a very nice smile- No, Gordon, now is not the time for gay thoughts.

“And I know I shouldn’t have let them win, and I really did try to not give in, but it just got so ti- exhausting going to work everyday with people who saw you as an overgrown child.” Tommy brings his knees to his chest and rests his head on them.

“I mean, I don’t think you ‘should’ have done anything in that situation.” Gordon shrugs. “I don’t think making a statement is worth more than making things bearable for you. It’s not your job to ‘show them who’s boss’.”

“Mm,” Tommy hums, taking his right arm off of his legs and putting it in between them. “It just doesn’t sit right with me that I ba- essentially taught them that that behavior works.”

Gordon gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “You didn’t teach them anything. They were shitty people to begin with, and even if you refused to ‘give in’, I doubt they would’ve changed their minds. You just would’ve been even more miserable.” He feels Tommy shift his hand so their fingers are intertwined. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush- “If you don’t mind me asking, couldn’t you have told your dad about it? He doesn’t seem like the type to let that slide.”

Tommy shakes his head. “He’s not, but…” he trails off. “Listen, my dads a go- great guy. If I had told him about how I was being treated at work he probably would’ve… either got them fired, at the very least, or have locked them in a void for who knows how long to ‘teach them a lesson’.” Gordon can’t tell if that’s a joke or not- from what little he knows about Mr. Coolatta, it probably isn’t. “But I’m a 37 year old man. My dad wants to protect me from the world, and I don’t really blame him for that, but I need to fight my own battles. I’m not going to be the kind of person that calls their dad at the first sign of danger.”

Gordon nods, brushing his thumb across Tommy’s hand. He understands where Tommy’s coming from. As a father himself, it’s been very hard to ignore his immediate impulse to protect Joshua from anything that could potentially harm him. He can’t imagine what it’ll be like a few years from now when there are dangers Gordon couldn’t protect Josh from even if he did try. “I can’t blame you for that. But I hope that line of logic hasn’t lead to you refusing to ask anyone else for help.”

“Well…”

“Tommy.”

“I’m gonna start trying to change that behavior, I swear!” Tommy laughs, doing an ‘x’ sign over his heart.

“Besides, considering the whole Resonance Cascade thing, I doubt your shitty ex-coworkers will be able to be shitty to anyone else.”

Tommy laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that, Mr. Freeman-”

“You can call me Gordon, you know.”

“I- Are you sure?”

“I think, after everything we’ve been through together, we’re well past the awkward coworkers stage of friendship.”

“I mean, if you’re sure about that… Gordon.” Never before had hearing his name filled him with more joy. “But… I don’t know. It’s st- silly, but I still feel bad that they died? Even though they were awful to me.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, man. Feelings are really fucking complicated- Not to mention you’re probably not mourning them specifically, just the fact that people died. You’ve got a big heart, there’s nothing silly or stupid about it.”

“You do too, M- Gordon. You’re a very kind person.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, both of them red as a beet.

“I think…” Gordon gulps, hoping how flustered he is isn’t that obvious. “I think I’m ready to go back inside.”

Tommy nods, standing up and pulling Gordon up with him. They both turn their heads to look inside the Chuck E. Cheese, seeing Mr. Coolatta somehow playing a perfect game of Skee-ball while Dr. Coomer and Bubby cheer on. Gordon looks at their hands, still intertwined, then back up to Tommy.

“C’mon, before the pizza gets cold.” Gordon opens the door with his shoulder, grinning at Tommy.

Tommy follows him in, and the Birthday Party At The End of the World continues on.

#freelatta #gordon freeman #hlvrai #tommy coolatta #nhlvrai #gordos feetman #halflife vr but the ai is self aware #I TRIED TO MAKE THIS ANGSTY BUT IT ENDED UP BEING VENTY SORRY

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Stormlight Archive Character Thoughts - Odium

I’ve been thinking about how Odium relates to different people, specifically to Venli, Dalinar, and Moash.

Venli is flattered by Ulim for as long as they need her to bring about the Everstorm, but then treated largely with disdain or worse by Odium, Ulim, and most of the Fused after that. They state openly that she was supposed to die, to have her body taken over by a Fused. Her only interactions with Odium involve him torturing her:

That yellow-white star expanded toward her at an awesome speed, swelling, growing, until it overwhelmed her with an incredible flame. She felt her skin melting, her flesh burning away.

You are not telling the story well enough, Odium’s voice declared, speaking the ancient tongue. You grow restless. The Fused inform me of it. This will change or you will be destroyed.

“Y-yes…Lord.” Speaking burned away her tongue. She could no longer see; the fire had claimed her eyes. Pain. Agony. But she couldn’t bend to it, for the god before her demanded all of her attention. The pain of her body being consumed was nothing compared to him.

You are mine. Remember this.

She was vaporized completely.

And woke on the floor of her hermitage, fingers bleeding from having clawed the stone again

And after Oathbringer, Odium decides he has no use for Venli, and she becomes in effect Leshwi’s attaché - a fairly minor position

This is all extremely different from the way Odium interacts with Dalinar and with Moash. With Dalinar it’s less relevant: Odium’s trying to recruit him throughout that book, there’s no telling if he would turn around and treat Dalinar horribly once he was secure of him, as happened with Venli. (Think of how the White Witch treats Edmund before and after he betrays his family in The Chronicles of Narnia.) The fear that Sja-Anat and others exhibit of him indicates that he’s dangerous to his servants, and his interaction with Sja-anat in her chapter is very much oriented around demonstrating his control of her.

But the way he interacts with Moash is strikingly different. He’s almost - well, indulgent. He encourages Moash to exhibit some self-preservation and not go wandering around in highstorms, and doesn’t get angry when Moash basically shrugs that off. He’s curious:

Interesting, Odium said. You respond to my gift in such an odd way. You are becoming something I have never before created, Vyre.

He recognizes that Moash is, to say the least, emotionally compromised when it comes to Kaladin, and yet he lets him go on the Urithiru mission anyway.

And he does this despite any obvious way in which Moash is a subatantially superior asset to the Fused or to anyone else on Odium’s side. Moash killed Leshwi using only a spear, and yes, that’s impressive, but for the most part what he’s done on Odium’s side - kill Elhokar when he’s unarmed, kill a drunk who also happens to be a Herald, kill Roshone, kill some prisoners in the Hearthstone jail - doesn’t require any extraordinary combat capabilities. (And with the exception of Jezrien, those were personal projects for Moash - they were more things that Odium was letting/helping him do than things he was ordered to do by Odium.) Certainly he hasn’t done as much to benefit Odium as Venli, who’s the reason Odium is capable of manifesting on Roshar as all.

Moash’s knowledge of Kaladin is an asset (at least, it seems to be until it drives Kaladin to reach the Fourth Ideal instead), but Odium in that scene isn’t treating him like an asset. Moash, or Vyre, seems to be something of a pet of his. Someone’s made him the dark-Windrunner unform that he wants. He’s incredibly informal around the Nine, who everyone else treats with deference; he shows up to their meeting and lounges. He practically mouths off to Raboniel - whom pratically everyone else is terrified of! - and gets away with it. Raboniel openly recognizes that Moash can get away with a lot because Odium likes him:

“What of Stormblessed?” a voice called out…

Vyre. …He draped one leg off the ledge. “He’ll stop you. You should have a plan for dealing with him.”

“Ah, the human,” Raboniel said, looking at Vyre on his ledge. “I’ve heard of you. Such an interesting specimen. Odium favors you.”

[Moash asks about Kaladin again. Raboniel says she isn’t worried.]

“Well,” Vyre said, pulling the tip of his sword back into the shadows, “I’m sure you know ypur business, Fused.”

The Nine, as always, suffered this strange human. His position had been chosen by Odium.

We know that passion does count for quite a lot in Odium’s armies. That may be part of the difference between Moash and Venli’s treatments. Venli is not passionate; her motivations for joining Odium - envy, ambition, cowardice - are colder ones. Moash certainly has passions. Obsessions, even. Strong enough to occasionally break through Odium’s emotion-numbing. We know from Odium’s statement that he’s responding atypically to “having his pain taken away”. While we don’t know for sure what a typical response would be, I think it would likely be similar to what Dalinar saw in Cultivation’s vision - berserker rage, bloodlust, taking what you want without limits. Moash’s pursuit of vengeance against Elhokar and Roshone isn’t likely atypical.

But not wandering around carelessly in the Everstorm. Not taking every opportunity to do heavy manual labour even when it’s not needed.

(Most likely, what Odium is missing - ironically, if so, being particularly attuned to and defined by hatred - is the heaping mountain of self-hatred that Moash is carrying around.)

The point is - Rayse has particular attitudes and preferences that make Moash appealing to him over and above Moash’s strict tactical usefulness. He likes having him around. He likes watching and seeing what he’ll do next.

But, unbeknownst to anyone except Renarin, Rayse isn’t Odium anymore. Taravangian is. (This happens after our last scene with Moash, where he’s rescued by the Fused and discovers that he’s blind. So we don’t yet know how any fallout from that might affect Moash.) Taravangian doesn’t have the same hangups as Rayse, and it takes time for a person’s identity to be subsumed by the Shard. Taravangian is a ruthless pragmatist with a saviour complex; Moash’s drives (mainly, desperate need for self-justification and self-deception) are very internal, and thus not ones Taravangian would care much about. T is a big-picture guy, Moash isn’t. And, between being blind and having had his plan for dealing with Kaladin backfire horribly, Moash’s utility to Odium has just gone down.

This is the main reason why I think there’s a solid chance we could see Moash leaving Odium’s camp in Book 5 - whether of his own volition or because Taravangian simply has little use for him - and having to figure out how to deal with all those inconvenient emotions.

#brandon sanderson #the stormlight archive #venli #moash #odium #dalinar #taravangian #rhythm of war #rhythm of war spoilers #row spoilers

[antoine-roquentin]

For now, these differing  ends  indicate  that  an  organization  like  the  FBI  did  not  allocate  repression  based  on  a  uniform  set  of  assumptions  separable  from  its  perceptions of the threats posed by particular classes of protest targets. Unlike popular conceptions of repression that view states as allocating repressive  activity  based  on  targets’  recognizable  characteristics  (such  as size, level of activity, or involvement in violence), the FBI’s actions were based upon assumptions about protest groups that were consider-ably more complex. For example, target group size seemed to be of central  concern  to  Bureau  personnel,  but  estimates  of  actual  group  size  were conditioned by an awareness of each group’s mobilization poten-tial, or the population of sympathetic individuals who might be mobilized through a catalytic event. This  awareness  stemmed  from  the  uprisings  sparked  by  SDS  at  Columbia University in April 1968, discussed in Chapter 2. The shocking  thing  about  this  revolt  was  that  a  relatively  small  protest  group was able to mobilize a large segment of Columbia students to take part in a set of high-risk actions that led to police occupation of the campus, hundreds of arrests, and more than a hundred injuries. The lesson the FBI took away from this protest was that campuses were full of potentially  mobilizable  individuals  and  that  a  small  number  of  committed  full-time members of organizations such as SDS could marshal a large body  of  sympathizers  into  action.  This  lesson  was  not  forgotten  two  years after the Columbia uprisings. In response to a ten-student sit-in at Stevens Institute of Technology in New Jersey in May 1970, an agent from the Newark field office sent the institute’s president a reprint of an anti–New Left article, attaching his own warning: “It begins with 10 like a deadly spore and soon the whole campus is infected with an incurable affliction.  Don’t  give  in  to  a  vocal  minority  that  wants  agitation  for  agitation  [sic]  sake.” Tom  Huston,  who  was  heavily  influenced  by  William Sullivan in his views on the dangers of protest activity, echoed this sentiment in his justification of the vetoed Huston plan. The New Left “wasn’t going to mobilize enough people to march on Washington to overthrow the government,” he argued, “but the way governments have  historically  been  overthrown  in  the  20th  Century  is  ...by small groups of dedicated people postulating the revolutionary theory.” Similarly,  we  can  explain  why  the  majority  of  violent  groups  were  not  subsequently  targets  of  repression  (see  appendix  B)  by  looking  at  the racialized context within which campus violence occurred. Of the seven  groups  identified  by  the  FBI  as  engaged  in  violent  activity  during  the  1967–68 school  year,  three  were  located  on  historically  black  campuses;  of  these,  none was  targeted  for  repression  by  the  FBI.  The  other  four  groups  were  on  predominantly  white  campuses,  with  half  becoming targets of significant repressive activity under the COINTEL program.  One  potential  explanation  for  not  repressing  violent  black  student organizations is that these groups were not defined as “truly” fitting into the New Left and instead could be dealt with through the existing COINTELPRO against Black Nationalist/Hate Groups. How-ever,  none  of  these  particular  campus  organizations  was  repressed  under this latter COINTELPRO. Instead, the Bureau believed that these acts of violence, while “spontaneous” and “unpredictable,” were generally the result of a particular grievance held by the students and there-fore did not represent a general threat to American values and institutions. Violent protest on white campuses, however, was often perceived as an attempt to undermine mainstream American values in general. These instances of violent action were indeed considered, as one SAC put it, “a separate and different problem [from racial or black nationalist activities]” since they directly posed a threat to the Establishment itself. In  this  way,  FBI  repression  of  the  (predominantly  white)  New  Left  was  as  much  about  resisting  a  challenge  to  the  traditional  American  lifestyle as it was about suppressing political gains and minimizing disruption.  This  concern  with  the  New  Left’s  countercultural  values  is  clearly  illustrated  by  the  Cincinnati  field  office’s  treatment  of  Antioch  College, a small liberal arts school in southwestern Ohio. According to the special agent in charge of Cincinnati’s repression of the New Left, Antioch was “most often run by a small group of militants that are permitted by college authorities to attack every segment of American society under the semblance of being ‘highly intellectual.’ Anyone visiting the  campus  doubts  its  ‘academic  scholarly  environment’  because ... the dirty  anti-social  appearance,  and  behavior  of  a  large  number  of  students can be seen to have the fullest ‘beatnik image.’” Due to the permissiveness  of  Antioch  administrators,  no  disruptive  incidents  had  occurred at Antioch during the preceding school year, and furthermore, “there is, in fact, little reason for disruptive activity [in the future] since the  students  are  permitted  to  do  exactly  what  they  want  to  without  interference  from  college  administrators.” Despite  this  recognition,  students  at  Antioch  were  repeatedly  targeted  for  repression  by  the  Cincinnati office, presumably for their adherence to anti-Establishment ideals rather than their potential for any disruptive threat. In this same manner, much of the Bureau-generated material against the New Left focuses on the “immoral” and “dirty” lifestyles of particular members rather than on their political ideals. In authorizing that a reprint  of  a  campus  article  about  a  student  demonstration  be  sent  to  students’ parents, the Director noted that, “while there is no indication in the article ... that the demonstration is inspired by the New Left, the tenor  of  the  photograph  is  such  that  it  shows  obvious  disregard  for  decency and established morality.” The Jackson field office even went so  far  as  to  define New  Left  members  solely  by  their  adherence  to  a  “hippie” lifestyle. Likewise, the SAC in the Newark field office described a New Left newspaper as a type of filth that could only originate in a depraved mind. It is representative of the type of mentality that is following the New Left theory of immorality on certain college campuses. ... The experimental literature referred to in the letter ... contained 79 obscene terms referring to incest, sexuality, and biology, four dozen “cuss” words and a dozen instances of taking the Lord’s name in vain. The  hostility  that  characterized  these  Bureau  agents’  views  was  so  pronounced  in  part  because  New  Left  “morality”  and  “lifestyle”  differed  strikingly  from  values  held  within  the  FBI.  Beginning  with  his  time at the FBI Training School (established in 1928), each special agent was  immersed  in  a  culture  that  was  the  polar  opposite  of  “hippies’”  lack of regard for established rules and respect for authority. In various ways, COINTELPRO–New Left became the place where these incompatible worldviews directly clashed. Obscenity of any kind was offensive  to  the  directorate,  and  agents  went  to  great  lengths  to  avoid  the  use  of  “cuss  words”  in  memos.  When  a  faction  of  SDS  began  calling  themselves  “Up  Against  the  Wall  Motherfucker”  (taken  from  a  poem  by  Amari  Baraka,  then  known  as  LeRoi  Jones)  in  late  1968,  agents  reporting on the group always typed the final word as “M_____ F_____ [obscene].” Agents’ outrage over the liberal use of obscenity in New Left publications provided another clear instance of this clash in values. Whenever the Bureau attempted to spread misinformation through the creation of faked “underground” leaflets, they necessarily had to imitate  the  language  of  New  Left  adherents.  An  interesting  dynamic  would emerge as obscene language would often be censored within the memo itself even though it was understood that it would be required in the Bureau-generated materials eventually distributed. The directorate would  also  often  justify  the  use  of  such  language,  as  in  one  memo  authorizing  a  proposed  leaflet  criticizing  the  National  Peace  Action  Coalition’s  upcoming  antiwar  demonstration  for  being  “lily-white”  and controlled by “faggots”: “We are approving inclusion of the profanity because to do otherwise would render the leaflet suspect, incredibly  inadequate,  and  would  probably  defeat  from  the  outset  the  purpose for which it is being prepared.” Within the Bureau, including a word like faggot in memos needed to be justified as carefully as using the word to destroy targets’ legitimacy by publicly attacking their sexuality. Thus in the FBI’s dealings with the New Left, targets’ political ideology  was  often  confounded  with  their  perceived  commitment  to  an  alternative  lifestyle,  with  the  latter  structuring  the  FBI’s  allocation  of  repression against the New Left. This discussion illustrates the importance  of  the  level  of  sophistication  involved  in  a  repressing  organization’s  assumptions  about  the  protest  field,  as  well  as  the  problematic  nature of an analytic strategy that ignores the organizational context in which protest and repression takes place. To understand which groups and  individuals  were  targeted  for  repression  by  COINTELPRO,  it  is  clearly not enough to evaluate the “objective” level of threat posed by each New Left or White Hate target (e.g., its level of activity, number of adherents,  or  predilection  for  violence).  Instead,  we  need  to  shift  our  gaze to processes occurring within the repressing organization itself.

David Cunningham, There’s Something Happening Here

the super square fbi agent from boardwalk empire is actually quite realistic. note also the commitment to seeing the greatest threat through a vanguardist lens.

[dansantcaparet]

Aerith, the Non-Optional Girl...

By FF_Goddess/Shiva of www.cloudandaerith.com

If you are interested in why I believe that Cloud's love for Aerith during the events of FFVII is not optional, then keep reading... Otherwise, thanks for stopping by! I hope this article gave you a clear view of why Cloud and Aerith fans believe they are the intended pairing of FFVII. :-)

Regardless of what choices you make during FFVII, it does not change these facts:

1. Cloud was attracted to Aerith from the beginning, admiring her radiant eyes and saying that her smile "was a good purchase".

* Cloud never admits any such thing about Tifa. In fact, he never makes any remarks on her appearance... ever.

2. Cloud and Aerith's meeting in the church was reproduced with Zack and Aerith in Crisis Core, giving Cloud and Aerith a direct parallel to Aerith's first romance as well as giving them a straightforward link to another canon couple in the same universe.

3. Cloud and Aerith meeting one another was described as "destiny" in multiple official sources.

4. Cloud agreed to become Aerith's bodyguard without asking for money. Instead, he accepts a date with her as payment.

* Cloud had just recently refused to fulfill his promise to Tifa, told her that her cause with Avalanche didn't mean anything to him, and also refused to help Avalanche further without being paid (and even more money than what he had received for his last mission with them).

5. Cloud smiles and laughs with Aerith. It is the **only** time during FFVII that he does either of these things.

* Tifa was not able to get Cloud to smile or laugh **at all** during the course of FFVII.

6. When Cloud is at Aerith's house, he remembers his mother telling him that the perfect girlfriend for him was someone older. As we all know, Aerith is one year older than Cloud.

* Tifa is one year younger than Cloud, which suggests that Cloud's mother would not have considered her an ideal match for her son.

7. Cloud and Aerith have a date in the park where they discuss Aerith's romantic past.

* Cloud never asks Tifa about her ex-boyfriends. In fact, he doesn't seem to care who she's been with.

8. Tifa is immediately jealous of Aerith and the bond she has formed so quickly with Cloud. The only reason for Tifa to be jealous is if she sees romantic interest between the two of them.

9. Cloud continually expresses concern for Aerith's safety whilst ignoring the fact that Tifa is in the same amount of danger. Cloud is also supportive when Aerith is frightened.

*By comparison, we have Cloud rudely demanding "Why'd you come along anyway?" when Tifa becomes scared before they jump from the train. The way he treats these two women is like night and day.

10. When Aerith is kidnapped, Cloud states he needs to rescue her "by all means!"

* Cloud ignores Tifa, who is drowning in her own guilt after the plate falls, and heads out to rescue Aerith with or without her.

11. Cloud braves Shinra HQ, a massive skyscraper crawling with his enemies, the most difficult quest he has faced so far, in order to rescue Aerith.

* Cloud is reluctant to rescue Tifa from Corneo because it means he will have to dress in drag.

12. Barret notices the change in Cloud when they are entering Shinra HQ, remarking that "there are times when even you fight for other people". This was said in response to Cloud's stony resolve to rescue Aerith, regardless of the risks involved.

* Barret knows that Cloud previously refused to fight for either he or Tifa without compensation.

13. Cloud mentions being Aerith's bodyguard right in front of Tifa. This is the deal he had made with Aerith, the deal where he is her protector in exchange for a date. If Cloud is bringing up his deal with Aerith, then that means he fully intends on collecting on that date with Aerith.

* Cloud never plans on any dates with just he and Tifa... ever.

14. When Tifa hears of Cloud's plans for a date with Aerith, she remarks rather harshly, "EXCUSE me." This was confirmed as a jealous outburst from Tifa when she saw them "developing their world together" and noticed the obvious "special bond" Aerith had with Cloud that was different than Tifa's bond with Cloud. Aerith's "special bond" with Cloud is clearly a romantic one or Tifa wouldn't be getting jealous.

* Aerith is **never** jealous of Tifa's bond with Cloud, which implies that she doesn't see anything romantic going on between the two of them. And, considering Aerith's ability to see inside the hearts and minds of others, this is a pretty profound statement.

15. Aerith's CG render is tied to her dream of riding the airship with Cloud. Cloud's CG render is of him just before he busts into Shinra HQ to rescue Aerith.

* Tifa's CG render is tied to her promise with Cloud.

16. When Aerith is feeling alone at Cosmo Canyon, Cloud tells her he is there for her and he wants to help.

17. Cloud and Aerith have a **second** date at the Gold Saucer. This is the default date for FFVII and is the only one being taken into consideration regarding the storyline. It is also the one date that makes sense as it is the **only** promised date within the game.

* Cloud doesn't date Tifa unless the player chooses to have him do so. In order to get the date with Tifa, the player has to play the game in a way that isn't considered "normal".

18. Cloud shows concern for Aerith when she cries over Tseng at the Temple of the Ancients.

* The night before the battle, when they are sitting under the Highwind, Tifa starts crying. And what does Cloud do? He looks away.

19. Cait Sith makes a prediction about "the affinity between Cloud and Aerith" which states that they are perfect for one another. He also predicts that they are destined to be married. Cloud makes no objections to this prediction, even if Tifa is present. Cait Sith remarks "Poor Tifa" regardless of whether Tifa is present or not.

20. It was confirmed that, despite the fact that Aerith dies, she and Cloud still have hope for a future together. Therefore, Cait Sith's prediction of Cloud and Aerith's "great future" stands firm.

21. Aerith is able to communicate with Cloud in his dreams due to her ability to speak directly to his heart. This implies a profound bond like that of soul mates.

22. Cloud tries to run after Aerith in his dream even before Sephiroth appeared and began to threaten her. This suggests that Cloud desperately did not want Aerith to leave.

23. Cloud and Aerith's lines together just before Aerith leaves are strikingly similar to those spoken in the play, Loveless, between a woman and her lover.

Cloud also first met Aerith under a sign for Loveless.

24. Cloud feels Aerith's presence in his **soul** and can hear her voice from distances so great that he could not possibly hear it with his physical senses.

This reinforces the idea that they are indeed soul mates.

* This kind of thing never occurs between Cloud and Tifa.

25. Sephiroth forces Cloud to beat Aerith and then attempts to make Cloud kill Aerith. This implies that Sephiroth knows Aerith is Cloud's weakness and being forced to harm her will cause Cloud the greatest amount of suffering.

26. When Sephiroth attempts to make Cloud kill Aerith, Cloud is able to resist Sephiroth's will. This is the **only** time in the game Cloud is able to overcome Sephiroth's mind control once he is under the evil maniac's influence.

27. When Aerith dies, Cloud holds her close and pours his heart and soul out in front of Sephiroth and everyone. He abandons his pursuit of Sephiroth and his quest to save the Planet, saying that none of it means anything to him anymore. And why? Because Aerith is gone.

* When Tifa lay dying in the Nibelheim Reactor, Cloud set her aside and went after Sephiroth. It was Tifa's teacher, Zangan, who considered her life more important than pursuing Sephiroth and it was Zangan who saved her life.

28. It was confirmed in Maiden of the Planet that Aerith's death broke Cloud's heart and he was consumed with grief over her death, blame toward himself, and hatred toward Sephiroth.

* When Cloud thought Tifa was dying, he said he was "really sad". o_0 Seriously?

29. Maiden of the Planet confirms that Aerith can hear the cries of Cloud's breaking heart. This ties her to his heart and soul once more.

30. In Maiden of the Planet, Aerith is surprised over Cloud's reaction to her death. She didn't realize how much she meant to him, which suggests that his feelings for her were not platonic in nature. After all, she knew they were friends before her death.

31. The game developers confirmed that, rather than the cliché of having a man die for the woman he loves, they decided to flip things and have a woman die for the man she loves. They also stated that they wanted to achieve an emotional impact on the player caused by seeing Cloud's pain ("feeling dazed at the gravity of the loss" caused by losing "someone you loved very much").

32. Cloud's companions come to offer him their condolences after Aerith's death. This suggests that they understand the depth of Cloud's feelings for Aerith.

33. Cloud alone is the one to put Aerith to rest at the spring. This indicates just how special Aerith was to Cloud.

34. After her death, Aerith can see that Cloud's heart is falling apart "from the sadness of losing her". Cloud is also being consumed by the "anger and hate he had for her being taken from him". And so we know Cloud considers Aerith's loss very personal: he "lost her" and she was "taken from him".

This suggest that Cloud considers Aerith an irreplaceable part of his life.

35. Even though Aerith was gone, Cloud continued to speak about her and remember her with fondness.

36. In the Lifestream, it is Aerith who guides Tifa into "Cloud's closed heart". What we can take away from this is that Aerith has access to Cloud's heart, even when it is closed to all others. Yet again Aerith is associated with Cloud's heart, just more proof that she is his soul mate.

37. Cloud promises Aerith that he will complete her mission and save the Planet she loved so well.

38. Cloud states that he is fighting to save the Planet and that one of the things he is fighting for is "a very personal memory". Since we know Cloud had promised Aerith that he would complete her mission to save the Planet, then naturally the personal element associated to his desire to save the Planet is Aerith.

39. Cloud also states that one of the reasons he is fighting is to free Aerith from Sephiroth's control: "Although she should've returned to the planet by now, something stopped her and now she's stuck...... We've got to set her free."

40. After Cloud defeats Sephiroth and is surrounded by Lifestream, he reaches toward the light with longing. Aerith reaches for him in return, both of them yearning to be reunited. In this scene, Cloud's actions clearly show that he wants to be with Aerith.

41. Earlier, Cloud told the Planet that he had come to show it everyone's wishes, including his and Aerith's. He then demanded an answer from the Planet.

While dangling from a ledge, he tells Tifa that the Planet had given him an answer to his wish: "The planet's answer... The Promised Land... I think I can find her there." If the Planet's answer to Cloud's question is that he can find Aerith in his Promised Land, then logically the question Cloud had asked of it previously was "How can I be with Aerith again? Where can I find her?" This shows two things: 1.) Cloud desperately wants to be with Aerith again, regardless of whether she is alive or dead. 2.) Cloud's Promised Land, the place where Cloud will find what makes him most happy, is associated with Aerith. And this is hardly a surprise since we already know she was the **only** person in the game who ever made him smile or laugh.

42. Cloud mentions his desire to be reunited with Aerith in his Promised Land right in front of Tifa, which makes it very clear that these two are not an item, regardless of what optional choices the player has made.

43. The lowest affection rating for Aerith in the game is 24. However, it is possible to completely eradicate all romantic interest in Tifa during the game, driving her affection rating all the way to zero.

So, there you go. These 43 facts remain regardless of what optional choices you make during the game, regardless of what optional scenes you get

(*COUGH*Highwind Scene*COUGH*), and regardless of which girl the **player** personally prefers. No matter what, Cloud is attracted to Aerith, protects her as his bodyguard, and goes on at least one date with her. No matter what, Tifa is jealous of the budding relationship between Cloud and Aerith. No matter what, Cloud and Aerith are confirmed to have a "special bond" and are predicted to be married. No matter what, Cloud is devastated over Aerith's death and one of the reasons he fights is for her. No matter what, Cloud is longing to be with Aerith at the end, reaching for her hand and asking the Planet how he can be with her again. No matter what, it is Aerith that Cloud wants to meet in his Promised Land. And, no matter what, it is impossible to use the affection rating system to eradicate all of the romantic affection between Cloud and Aerith.

Also, regardless of what optional choices you make, Cloud still makes his affection for Aerith clear right in front of Tifa. He calls himself her bodyguard in front of Tifa, bringing up a deal in which the result is Cloud dating Aerith. Cloud also doesn't object when Cait Sith offers to be the preacher at he and Aerith's wedding (even when Tifa is standing right there).

Cloud and Tifa fans like to assert that the High Affection version of the Highwind Scene is canon, even though they don't have any proof of this. They even go so far as to suggest Cloud and Tifa had sex under the Highwind, which is equally as absurd. And, yet, right after Cloud rescues Tifa from falling and they are clinging to the side of the Northern Crater, he says, right in front of her, that it is Aerith that he wants to see again in his Promised Land. And this is **after** he and Tifa supposedly confessed romantic feelings for one another (High Affection version of the Highwind Scene) and, according to rabid CloTis, had sex. If that is the case, then Cloud just used Tifa for sex, played her feelings, and dropped her like a rock.

Because it isn't Tifa that Cloud wants to be with in the place of supreme bliss (his Promised Land), it's a completely different woman (Aerith).

Also, Cloud demanded an answer from the Planet, remember? This is after he showed the Planet his wishes. His answer was that he could be with Aerith again if he could find the/his Promised Land. And so the wish he expressed to the Planet was quite obviously how he could be reunited with Aerith. This scene **also** took place after the supposed confession of love and alleged sex on pointy rocks under the Highwind. **IF** Cloud confessed romantic feelings for Tifa under the Highwind, then why would he be seeking a reunion with her confirmed "love rival"? **IF** Cloud confessed romantic feelings for Tifa under the Highwind, then why wasn't Tifa the one he states he wants to be with? Why wasn't his wish about her? And why doesn't he care about how she is feeling when he ignores her and says he wants to be with Aerith?

These scenes only make sense if you take the Low Affection version of the Highwind Scene into account. If Cloud and Tifa only shared feelings of a platonic nature, then they are only friends. And Cloud doesn't come off like a cold-hearted jerk who could care less about Tifa's breaking heart. If they are only friends, then it makes perfect sense why Cloud would be seeking a reunion with Aerith again instead of wanting to be with Tifa.

In my opinion, the Low Affection version of the Highwind Scene is the one being followed throughout the rest of the game as well as the Compilation (during which Cloud and Tifa are not portrayed as being in any romantic relationship and there has been **zero** progression toward a romantic relationship between them). Not only that, but the two Highwind Scenes are merely there for replay value and nothing more. While the **player** can choose for Cloud to show romantic interest in Tifa, it doesn't change the fact that he loves Aerith. In other words, Cloud's love for Tifa is **optional**.

Cloud's love for Aerith is **not optional**.

A good example is FFX, where Tidus can show romantic interest in Rikku or Lulu. Between Rikku and Lulu, it is Lulu that seems more inclined to show interest in Tidus, but it doesn't mean that either of them were intended to be Tidus's love interest. Regardless of any optional scenes or dialogues, regardless of affections levels, Tidus still loves Yuna and they are the intended pairing. The scenes with Rikku and Lulu were simply thrown in for replay value. They don't actually mean anything in the end. It is much the same between Cloud and Tifa.

Though Cloud can date Tifa, Yuffie, or Barret instead of Aerith, it doesn't change the fact that Cloud and Aerith love one another and are the intended pairing of FFVII. And, although Cloud has an optional scene with Tifa that may or may not show affection between them under the Highwind, it doesn't change the fact that Cloud and Aerith are the intended pairing of FFVII and Cloud loves Aerith regardless of any affection and/or optional scenes he might feel/share with Tifa (or anyone else).

An interesting note: Yuna is the default character for cut scenes when there is a tie, much like Aerith is the default character for the date scene at Gold Saucer, even if there is a tie between she and Tifa (or anyone else). Coincidence? I think not...

The bottom line? Cloud loves Aerith. The **player** can choose for Cloud to **also** love Tifa, but you cannot eradicate the love between Cloud and Aerith. He can love **both** Aerith and Tifa (optionally). Or he can love just Aerith. He cannot love just Tifa. This was the original intent when the game was created, regardless of the current fan-pandering stance that Square-ENIX has now taken.

One final thought in regard to Square-ENIX's fan-pandering... Throughout the Compilation and all spin-off games in which Cloud, Aerith, and Tifa appear, Cloud x Aerith gets actual solid proof while Cloud x Tifa gets fluff that seems to satisfy the fans, but doesn't actually have any true meaning to it. Want proof of that? Just read through my site... ;-)

#clerith #cloud strife #aerith gainsborough #final fantasy 7 remake #ff7r

[zelinkwrites]

A Mother’s Love

post calamity aoc timeline. started writing this, accidentally deleted it you get the gist here we go 

Rita sat underneath the apple tree in her backyard, watching her daughter Aryll play with the stick she found. 

“Mom! Mom! MOM! Look! Watch this!” yelled Aryll as she threw the stick in the air and caught it after it flipped once. “Mom, did you see that!”

“Yes, sweetheart that was very cool! I’m very proud of you.”

The little girl smiled at her mother’s praise and ran with her stick into the front yard. 

“Aryll, do not fall into that pond! I don’t want you to catch a cold!” Rita, understanding her rest time was over, stood up and began making her way around to the front yard to make sure her energetic young daughter didn’t get herself into some trouble. For just a second she wished just one of her children had been born with a quiet and serene personality. Oh, but she wouldn’t change either of them for the world. 

Speaking of her other child, Link had written home not long ago saying he intended to visit within the month. It had been so long since she had seen her son, what with his having been busy at the castle. She thought about her son, about the muddy, rowdy little boy she raised and how he had grown into such a handsome, mature young man. Oh she was so very, very proud of him. She’ll never forget the look on his face when he came home from a trip with his dad with a new sword strapped to his back, one almost at tall as him. The same sword that would grow to become such a burden to him. Rita had pledged one thing then: be as big a comfort and confidante for her son as he needed. Such is a mother’s love. Anything Link thought, he could tell her, unashamedly. Such is a mother’s love. Whenever he needed someone to hold him as he cried, she would be there. Such is a mother’ s love. Whenever he got hurt and needed someone to clean his wound and comfort him, she would be there, bandage in hand. Such is a mother’s love. As she rounded the corner of their home, she looked out at Hyrule, thanking the Goddesses for protecting her son while he protected the kingdom. 

Aryll ran up to her mom, panting from the rigorous lap around the house she just made. “Mom. Mom, when is Link gonna be here? I want to show him my stick trick.”

“I’m not exactly sure, love. Any day now, you know Link has always been timely.” She smiled at her daughter’s impatience and patted her unruly dirty blonde hair down into a more manageable shape. “But don’t worry, he’ll be here soon enough and I’m sure he’ll be sooooo impressed with your talents.”

She watched as her daughter smiled ear to ear, and noticed, as if her words summoned him, blue fibers of light gathering in front of the shrine across the bridge from their house. Aryll followed her mother’s line of sight and yelled as she saw her big brother materializing at the shrine. She sped across the bridge, as fast as her little legs would carry her, and got halfway across the bridge before her brother was there, jogging to meet her, picking her up, upside down, much to his sister’s delight, as evidenced by her maniacal giggling. He continued across the bridge but only after turning behind him to see if his surprise guest was following him. He walked up to his mom, still holding Aryll by her ankles. 

“Put her down before you drop her on her head.” Rita admonished before hugging her son and kissing his cheek. “Have you gotten taller since you were here last? I think you have...”

Link cleared his throat before stepping out of the way and letting his mother see who he had brought with him. Behind him was a gorgeous young lady with long golden hair, wearing a blue blouse with black trousers. Her hands were crossed in front of her and she looked very nervous, almost as if she felt she didn’t belong here. 

“Well, who is this?” asked Rita, although the answer was glaringly obvious. 

“This is Zelda, even though you probably already knew that. She said she had never been to Hateno and asked if I could... take her.”

“Well, hello Princess, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” Rita said, slightly bowing, mostly for show. 

“Oh! Please just Zelda is fine, really! It’s fantastic to finally see this village. Link has told me much about it, and you too.”

“Oh is that so? Well come on in, I’d love to hear what else my son has told you.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The visiting pair settled in, Link making a show of giving Zelda his bed and volunteering to sleep in a completely separate room (aw, showing propriety in front of his parents, how knightly). 

Rita knew her son well, though, being one of the only people in Hyrule who could read him like a book. She knew he was hiding something. And she was confident in her ability in getting to the bottom of it. She noticed it first in the way he really had to work to separate himself from the princess. He made sure he was always about five feet away from her. Next, she noticed the blush that stained the princess’ cheeks whenever their hands brushed over dinner, passing a plate. Third, she noticed Link’s stare lingering on Zelda for just a moment longer than was really necessary. The thing that cemented her theory, however, was the beautiful necklace that slipped out of the princess’ collar one day when she was helping her in the garden. It looked strikingly similar to the one Rita’s mother had given Link before she passed away many years ago. Interesting.

She decided to corner Link one day and force the answer out of him. After all, such is a mother’s love. She saw the golden opportunity when Zelda was outside watching Aryll’s “stick tricks” as she called them. She slipped in front of her son right before he opened the door to walk outside. “Soooo...”

Link’s eyes got wide and he immediately started turning red, just like he did when he got caught doing something he shouldn’t have been as a child. 

“The princess seems really nice.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah she is.”

“And she’s so gorgeous, also. Those ballads really weren’t lying!” 

“Ahaha, yeah I guess so...” Link said, ruffling the hair on the back of his head.

“That’s good for you!”

“Yea- er what?” Link said, reddening even more. 

“Well that means you won’t have to guard her through that courting stage for too long. That happened to your father you know. He still talks about having to guard the late queen when she was courting the king. Having to stand there while they make heart eyes at each other, obsess over each other’s looks, try to impress the other, oh your father hated it!” 

Link’s face got somehow even more red as he heard his mother talk about the princess courting someone. Rita definitely did not miss that look he got. “Oh, uh yeah. That-that’s... good.” Link was looking everywhere except for his mother’s eyes. 

“However that beautiful necklace she’s got on means maybe she already has a suitor. Wouldn’t that be something?” 

He’d been found out. He told Zelda it was a bad idea to wear the necklace. He told her he wouldn’t be offended if she left it at the castle. But no, she just had to wear it. He can’t stay mad at her though. Link stayed silent, still not looking at his mother as the blush creeped into the tips of his ears. 

“How long has it been going on?” asked Rita, smiling slyly. 

Link sighed and said under his breath, “About four months.”

“Oh my goodness! My little boy has a girlfriend!” 

“Mom...” said Link, who was madly scrambling to put away the smile that was on his face. Rita grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him over to their couch. 

“Ok tell me everything.” And he did. Starting with his appointment, to the assassination attempt, to the end of the calamity, ending with current day, Rita shrieking whenever he recounted something particularly cute. 

“Oh I’m so proud of you!” Rita grabbed her son and embraced him so hard he had to tap out to breathe. Then she got an impish little smile on her face and leaned in and whispered, “Have you kissed her yet?”

“Mom!” he exclaimed, the blush coming back to his face. She jabbed him in the belly and after they both calmed down Link quietly, almost too quiet to hear said, “yeah”. 

“Link!” Rita playfully admonished her son, shoving his shoulder, pushing him onto the couch a little bit. She wasn’t strong enough to really push him over so she knew he did it for show. “Well, just know I like her a lot. Really.” she leaned and kissed her son on the cheek again. 

“Me too.” Link said, a fond smile on his face. “We’ve been through a lot together. She’s had a lot of issues with her dad and, you know, with her mom dying when she was younger. I’m just glad she feels... comfortable here.”

Rita smiled and traced little circles on her son’s back as they sat in comfortable silence. 

“Well, I should probably go out there before Aryll makes her fight her with a stick or something.”

Rita laughed and watched her son walk out and greet Zelda with a kiss on the cheek. Right then she made another vow: to extend that same amount of comfort to Zelda, as well. Such is a mother’s love.

extra content !!!

Aryll gaped when she saw her brother kiss the princess. It prompted a lot of questions in her mind.  “Are you guys dating? Link do you like the princess? Does she like you? Will I be a princess if you guys get married? Will you be king? Does mom know? Oh my goodness does dad know? He’s gonna kill you Link. I won’t tell him don’t worry. Are you guys gonna get married? Can I be the flowergirl? Can we live in the castle?”

Link and Zelda both stood there, in awe of the stream of questions being produced from such a little brain. Link looked at Zelda apologetically, but also in a “I told you so” type of way. Zelda giggled and cut off Aryll’s questions.��“Aryll, how about you show Link that trick you showed me earlier!”

“Oh yeah, Link, you’re gonna love this!” She got in her position to throw the stick and Link looked at Zelda nodding his thank you.

#loz #tloz #zelda #princesszelda #link #zelink #fanfic #fic #linksmom #aryll #bigbrotherlink #newrelationship #cute #botw #lozbotw

[faintingheroine]

A Little Princess - Chapter 3

“On that first morning, when Sara sat at Miss Minchin's side, aware that the whole schoolroom was devoting itself to observing her, she had noticed very soon one little girl, about her own age, who looked at her very hard with a pair of light, rather dull, blue eyes. She was a fat child who did not look as if she were in the least clever, but she had a good-naturedly pouting mouth.”

Why is fatness always associated with not being clever in children’s books? The only exception I am familiar with is Piggy from Lord of the Flies.

And of course we see here something we see a lot in older children’s novels. Someone’s character being obvious from the face they make or their features.

“Upon which Miss St. John gave another jump, and when Lavinia and Jessie tittered she became redder than ever—so red, indeed, that she almost looked as if tears were coming into her poor, dull, childish eyes; and Sara saw her and was so sorry for her that she began rather to like her and want to be her friend. It was a way of hers always to want to spring into any fray in which someone was made uncomfortable or unhappy.

"If Sara had been a boy and lived a few centuries ago," her father used to say, "she would have gone about the country with her sword drawn, rescuing and defending everyone in distress. She always wants to fight when she sees people in trouble."”

And here we have the first instance of Sara being a truly idealized character. So far she has only been odd and intelligent and unnecessarily polite which only added to her weirdness. But starting with this instance she is portrayed as a fairly heroic idealized character, I will admit to that. But I am not too troubled with this, because she is still an original character with a particular personality and not the cardboard cutout of how the author thinks little girls should behave.

“So she took rather a fancy to fat, slow, little Miss St. John, and kept glancing toward her through the morning. She saw that lessons were no easy matter to her, and that there was no danger of her ever being spoiled by being treated as a show pupil. Her French lesson was a pathetic thing. Her pronunciation made even Monsieur Dufarge smile in spite of himself, and Lavinia and Jessie and the more fortunate girls either giggled or looked at her in wondering disdain. But Sara did not laugh. She tried to look as if she did not hear when Miss St. John called "le bon pain," "lee bong pang." She had a fine, hot little temper of her own, and it made her feel rather savage when she heard the titters and saw the poor, stupid, distressed child's face.

"It isn't funny, really," she said between her teeth, as she bent over her book. "They ought not to laugh."”

The book, having been published in 1905, hits you over the head with how “stupid” Ermengarde is. I remembered her as exceptionally stupid, though this might have something to do with her later naïveté in not understanding Sara’s new condition. Based on this chapter alone, she isn’t “stupid”, she is just a seven-year-old who is not particularly academically talented and has anxiety because of the expectations of her father.

We again see Sara’s heroic streak.

“When lessons were over and the pupils gathered together in groups to talk, Sara looked for Miss St. John, and finding her bundled rather disconsolately in a window-seat, she walked over to her and spoke. She only said the kind of thing little girls always say to each other by way of beginning an acquaintance, but there was something friendly about Sara, and people always felt it.

"What is your name?" she said.”

I really like how randomly children can become friends.

How friendly Sara is is something that is always recognized by others. Is this the same Sara that thought she didn’t care much for other little girls and was only interested in her books in Chapter 1? Perhaps by “friendliness”, it means “goodness” and “kindness”, after all in this chapter Sara befriends Ermengarde partially because she pities her, not really because she is desperate for a friend.

“To explain Miss St. John's amazement one must recall that a new pupil is, for a short time, a somewhat uncertain thing; and of this new pupil the entire school had talked the night before until it fell asleep quite exhausted by excitement and contradictory stories. A new pupil with a carriage and a pony and a maid, and a voyage from India to discuss, was not an ordinary acquaintance.”

Sara being defined by her riches is important, because the story is about whether she can stay polite and a “princess” when she loses all of it.

“"My name's Ermengarde St. John," she answered.

"Mine is Sara Crewe," said Sara. "Yours is very pretty. It sounds like a story book."

"Do you like it?" fluttered Ermengarde. "I—I like yours."

Miss St. John's chief trouble in life was that she had a clever father. Sometimes this seemed to her a dreadful calamity. If you have a father who knows everything, who speaks seven or eight languages, and has thousands of volumes which he has apparently learned by heart, he frequently expects you to be familiar with the contents of your lesson books at least; and it is not improbable that he will feel you ought to be able to remember a few incidents of history and to write a French exercise. Ermengarde was a severe trial to Mr. St. John. He could not understand how a child of his could be a notably and unmistakably dull creature who never shone in anything.

"Good heavens!" he had said more than once, as he stared at her, "there are times when I think she is as stupid as her Aunt Eliza!"

If her Aunt Eliza had been slow to learn and quick to forget a thing entirely when she had learned it, Ermengarde was strikingly like her. She was the monumental dunce of the school, and it could not be denied.

"She must be MADE to learn," her father said to Miss Minchin.”

Ermengarde’s father is well characterized. He is an intellectual who picked a pretentious ancient Germanic name for his daughter; one which the similarly bookish Sara is charmed by. He is openly insulting to his daughter and his sister/sister-in-law. His high hopes for his daughter and insisting her to be what she isn’t probably contributes to Ermengarde’s anxiety in the classroom. She is seven years old and he is already disappointed in her. He is a jerk.

“"You can speak French, can't you?" she said respectfully.

Sara got on to the window-seat, which was a big, deep one, and, tucking up her feet, sat with her hands clasped round her knees.

"I can speak it because I have heard it all my life," she answered. "You could speak it if you had always heard it."

"Oh, no, I couldn't," said Ermengarde. "I NEVER could speak it!"

"Why?" inquired Sara, curiously.”

I like that Sara knows French so well not because she is a super-genius but because she was raised bilingual.

(Sara is talking about why she was given her own sitting room). “”Yes," Sara answered. "Papa asked Miss Minchin to let me have one, because—well, it was because when I play I make up stories and tell them to myself, and I don't like people to hear me. It spoils it if I think people listen."”

I relate to Sara here.

"Oh, she got back to her seat before we could see her!" Sara explained. "Of course they always do. They are as quick as lightning."

Ermengarde looked from her to the doll and back again.

"Can she—walk?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes," answered Sara. "At least I believe she can. At least I PRETEND I believe she can. And that makes it seem as if it were true. Have you never pretended things?"

"No," said Ermengarde. "Never. I—tell me about it."”

Ermengarde is amazed by what Sara is doing, but what she is doing is an ability which is on some level common to all children and which we unfortunately mostly lose as we grow up: That is the ability to play pretend knowing that it is pretend and still get absorbed in it without needing to tell anyone about it. Actually on some level Sara is less childish about her game of pretend than most children are, she clearly feels the need to tell others about it as if she is a storyteller rather than a little girl simply playing, and she actually is a storyteller. Her daydreams and games aren’t simply left as just that, they are also recounted.

“She was so bewitched by this odd, new companion that she actually stared at Sara instead of at Emily—notwithstanding that Emily was the most attractive doll person she had ever seen.”

I have lost the count of how many times Sara is described as “odd” or “queer”.

I like that Ermengarde calls Emily “doll person”.

“Sara sat upon the hearth-rug and told her strange things. She sat rather huddled up, and her green eyes shone and her cheeks flushed. She told stories of the voyage, and stories of India; but what fascinated Ermengarde the most was her fancy about the dolls who walked and talked, and who could do anything they chose when the human beings were out of the room, but who must keep their powers a secret and so flew back to their places "like lightning" when people returned to the room.”

Ermengarde is fascinated because she didn’t grow up with Toy Story.

(Sara and Ermengarde are talking about Sara’s father and how she misses him) “I love mine more than all the world ten times over," Sara said. "That is what my pain is. He has gone away."

She put her head quietly down on her little, huddled-up knees, and sat very still for a few minutes.

"She's going to cry out loud," thought Ermengarde, fearfully.

But she did not. Her short, black locks tumbled about her ears, and she sat still. Then she spoke without lifting her head.

"I promised him I would bear it," she said. "And I will. You have to bear things. Think what soldiers bear! Papa is a soldier. If there was a war he would have to bear marching and thirstiness and, perhaps, deep wounds. And he would never say a word—not one word."

This is clearly foreshadowing of how Sara will behave when faced with serious hardship.

“Presently, she lifted her face and shook back her black locks, with a queer little smile.

"If I go on talking and talking," she said, "and telling you things about pretending, I shall bear it better. You don't forget, but you bear it better."

This again foreshows how Sara will survive through the novel.

“Ermengarde did not know why a lump came into her throat and her eyes felt as if tears were in them.

"Lavinia and Jessie are 'best friends,'" she said rather huskily. "I wish we could be 'best friends.' Would you have me for yours? You're clever, and I'm the stupidest child in the school, but I—oh, I do so like you!"

"I'm glad of that," said Sara. "It makes you thankful when you are liked. Yes. We will be friends. And I'll tell you what"—a sudden gleam lighting her face—"I can help you with your French lessons."”

I love how as children you can be frank about wanting to be someone’s best friend.

*This book is too fun to make it into homework so I am not going to continue with these chapter by chapter posts. I will write a post about it if I have anything particular to say, but I am not going to do separate posts on chapters. I will definitely write a retrospective and my final thoughts when I finish the audiobook though.

#a little princess #a little princess reread

[somestansomewhere]

Shameless - Dysfunctional Family Roles

When taking a closer look at the Gallagher family there becomes a clear semblance of character traits used to build the dynamics between family members. More times than not, there is a specific pattern in “neurotic storytelling” used to explore families that deal with addiction and poverty. When you look at the character of Frank, it is extremely obvious that he represents “The Addict” within the family. Frank is the one that often causes the most conflict for the family, making him the catalyst for his children to fill the following roles:

Fiona’s role of “The Caretaker” is another that was strikingly obvious to me. It is due to Frank’s neglect and narcissism that she then becomes the one to take on all of his responsibilities in order to keep the family functioning. As a child she wants to make Frank happy, and as seen in S1E1 she wants him to acknowledge her for all that she has done for him and be proud of her. However, when we look at her character arc in S4 this becomes much more obvious. In her relationship with Mike, we see how attracted to chaos she really is. Fiona likes to solve other people’s (Frank’s) problems. She gets bored and thus cheats on him with Robbie as a way to reinsert herself into a problem to solve. This happens throughout the series as she needs adventure in order to “feel needed”, (also stated in the Pilot). She is drawn to Sean because of his addiction. She goes into Ian’s lawyer meeting in S9 when he requested her not to.

Lip at first struck me as “The Hero” but ultimately I feel as if he is “The Scapegoat” in the family. He has all the wisdom and potential to “get out” of their situation but ruins all of his chances. He acts out for attention and is defiant, often participating in illegal scams. When Lip goes to college he instantly feels out of place, in his conversation with Helene in “Southside Rules” we see that he won’t rat out Kev because: “Southside Rules”. Part of the problem here is that he has an extreme amount of hostility towards Frank which is why Lip tries hard to not become like him and diverts all of his attention away from Frank. Lip develops his own alcohol addiction and ruins his chances at achieving any extreme goals. Lip also falls into the trap of a “trickster mentor”. Youens is arguably just like Frank. He is intelligent, but also a drunk, so Lip is drawn to him to be “the father he didn’t have”. This is why it hurts when us, as well as Lip, are let down by Youens in court, and when we learn Lip wasn’t the only student he catered to.

Now, I’d will to return to Ian in a bit and first talk about Debbie who takes on the role of “The Hero”. Debbie is extremely self sufficient and we see that in the later seasons she attempts to fix the dysfunctional home life. For example, in S9 she begins to do home renovations. And in S10, while she did act a lot like Frank, by getting debt cards for the family, and having a budget, along with a chore list, it shows that she is reaching for some form of normalcy to pull the family up. I personally think she appears to be doing this more for herself but, without Fiona she does try to be the one running he house. In earlier seasons she is over-responsible for her age and wants to be treated like adult, all while catering to Frank.

Carl to me is “The Mascot” to Frank. He is “the dumb one” and that is played for comedic relief. In the earlier seasons, Carl is the one that constantly helps Frank. The family roles are devised in relation to Frank, and Carl is one of the last kids to see him for what he really is. While Carl is violent he also has such love and compassion for his siblings, telling Debs not to wear white when she gets her period, taking care of Liam, and even though he really wanted to go to the West Point mixer in S9 he offered to stay home with Lip, when Lip was going through a tough time. Carl’s generosity and commitment/praise to Frank shows that he tries to lesson the burden that is Frank’s addiction, all while assisting Frank in his schemes.

Now, Ian and Liam share the same role of “The Lost Child”, but in different ways. Ian is the third kid in the first half of six, and Liam is the third child in the second half of six, so it makes sense. Ian is the middle kid (and also technically not Frank’s), who separates himself from the rest of his siblings. Ian’s story arcs have always been with outside characters to the family (with characters such as Mandy or Mickey). In S1E7 the family is faking Frank’s death, Ian is not a part of that plot line till the very end because once again, his His storylines are separate. He is on his own, being independent. When Monica returns in S1 the family deals with it together, however Ian runs to Mickey. Ian also searches for a purpose (like the military, EMT, gay Jesus) to strive for so that he won’t feel so lost. Ian is extremely goal oriented. Another point I would like to bring up is his relationship with Monica. She is “the runway” and he feels the same. Being bipolar also makes Ian feel isolated because he worries that his family will view him like Monica. He is the only one dealing with it as well and instead of wanting to change, he wants people to accept him for who he is. Liam on the other hand fills this role because in the later seasons he begins to fly under the family’s radar. He deals with the repercussions of all of his family member’s actions and is often roped into Frank’s bullshit scams even while growing up. Liam was “a prop” at first and now is all alone with much older siblings. In S10 Lip asks Liam where everyone is, and Liam says that he misses having everyone around. He is lonely.

Keep in mind that these are my opinions and if you have any thoughts or disagree, I’d love for you to send me an ASK so we can discuss it!! I Find this really interesting and if you do as well, look up “ Dysfunctional Family Dynamics”, loads of info will pop up! I have much more to say for specific characters (even Sammi who acts out in rebellion wanting boundaries in S5a) but this was just my “quick breakdown”. If you made it through this whole thing, you’re the best. Thank you! 💙

#shameless #Gallavich #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher #lip gallagher #debbie gallagher #carl gallagher #liam gallagher #frank gallagher #somestansomewhere

[jjk-biased]

park jimin x reader

genre: angst, lil' fluff if you squint hard enough lmfao

word count: 2k words of big sad bros

synopsis: befriending the ever-shy boy park jimin had its ups and downs but you were there for him through everything.

masterlist

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It was supposed to end on a somewhat lighter note. Laughter should’ve rang through the room by now from your remark, or at least a chuckle should’ve been heard from his lips as he denies your claim. He should’ve continued eating his pastries or at least change the topic to the song currently playing in Belle Vie.

There shouldn’t be silence. You shouldn’t hear the pitter patter of the rain outside from the cafe you’re in.

Anything but this.

You could still remember meeting his eyes. There he was, meekly hiding himself from the corner of the room to shield himself from the noise of your classmates. He was alone and it was as if he wanted it to stay that way.

You weren’t sure what was captivating about him. Was it the way his eyes told a different story? Was it how adorable he was as he avoided your stare when you approached him? Was it the small, unsure smile he returned when you looked at him?

You’d never know. But you were happy to be the first one to approach him.

“Hi! I’m Y/N.”

“O-oh�� uhm… h-hello,” He trailed off, once again looking at anything but you.

You unintentionally chuckled, somehow frightening this shy boy more, and continued, “Can I ask for your name?”

“I-I’m sorry… I’m Park Jimin.”

“Say Park Jimin… interested in going to the small cafe down the street?”

That was the start of an unlikely friendship between the ever-friendly Y/N and the resident cutie Jimin.

From a few meetings to being stuck by the hip, you two sure became a great duo. But Jimin still had reservations about himself, a nobody, and you, the ever-cheerful person who’d befriend anyone. You would remember Jimin always asking you why you hung out with him. He would list reasons why you were better off without him trailing behind you like a puppy.

“Because I like being friends with you silly!”

And you could see the storm in his eyes fade away just from that remark.

“Wanna go to the Hope Dance Studio oday?”

“I’ll just watch you dance, Jimin, and you owe me tea from Belle Vie.”

You two spent most of your days together and would often bond on your love for music. You discovered a new Jimin through dancing—a Jimin who forgot his stage fright and shyness everytime a beat plays. You loved this side of Jimin. It’s who he is. A dancer, born to perform on stage, yet held back by the timid persona he always went by.

Admittedly, you were secretly glad he was confident enough to show it to you. Only you.

Aside from the dance studio, you two were more than often seen in the small cafe by the school named Belle Vie. It was a cozy cafe that hosted a few stressed students or passerbys who wanted to stop for pastries. It was where you two always hung out after every school day.

As your highschool years went by, you began to lie low from the “popular” people. The famous Y/N who befriended anyone was still friendly, but you decided it was time to stick to those who will be there for you.

That was Jimin. You stuck by him as you went through countless breakdowns, stresses, and heartbreaks.

“You should forget that dork, Y/N! He was a player from the start. If you want, we’ll go egg his house soon because he deserves that shit,” Jimin’s eye twitched as he gripped the macaron in his hand rather harshly.

The two of you were once again in Belle Vie, though this time you were down in the dumps because your asshole of a boyfriend cheated on you with one of your friends.

You snorted as you stole one of the sweet delights from his plate, “The slytherin in you jumped out.”

He preened, mockingly laughing the way rich people do, “I try my best.”

“Thank you, Jimin.”

“Anything for you."

None of your relationships seemed to work. Maybe it was because you never seemed to find any sort of connection with them. Maybe it was because they never had any sort of genuinity to commitment.

Maybe it was because they weren’t Jimin.

It dawned on you on one of those quiet days where you ponder quietly as you gaze at the ceiling. Looking back, it really was Jimin who stuck with you through it all. He made you laugh every time he did his pranks (he was never caught), he made you smile every time he danced like a dork, he made you feel at home.

Squealing lightly, you fell off the bed at your epiphany.

“Holy shit… I like my best friend.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, your eyes widened. There are a lot more negative disadvantages to liking your only best friend. What if he didn’t like you? What if he thinks you’re creepy? What if you don’t become friends anymore?

That last question haunted you more than you liked to admit.

Jimin was your anchor, the one you found solace in when times are rough. Not being with him anymore just because your feelings got in the way.

You’d rather keep it in.

So you did. You kept that little crush to yourself and told not a soul. It kind of hurts to act that way, but it was for the best.

Jimin on the other hand began to grow out of his shell. Because you encouraged him, even in his bad days, you were able to help him be more out in the open. Soon, Jimin became one of the popular kids and you were more than happy to see him in his true element.

You once introduced him to your acquaintance and captain of the dance team, Jung Hoseok. He happened to be the son of the owner of the dance studio you two often went to as well. Jimin was soon recruited.

It was as if everything felt right when he accepted Hoseok’s offer. He was more than ecstatic. You were very much just as happy as he is.

“Congrats, shorty! Treat me to Belle Vie today?”

“You can’t call me that if you’re shorter… And shouldn’t I be the one treated today?”

That was the start of his way up to the big leagues.

You were left at the bottom. Probably forgotten, left alone at square one.

You didn’t notice it immediately. Your daily trip to Belle vie turned into every other day, then it became twice a week, once a week, until there was none at all. You couldn’t blame your sweet Jimin though. He became much busier after he joined the dance team.

At the back of your mind, it was hard to admit that he became too busy for you.

It was hard, really, to ask Jimin to hang out for at least just a day and be turned down time and time again.

“Hey! Can we go to Belle Vie today?”

You already knew the answer when his face contorted into an uneasy grin, the way he averted his eyes and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“I… uhm… have practi—”

“Oh! ‘S alright, we can just go out on a later date,” you cut him off to save yourself an ounce of dignity and scurried away before he could make it more painful than it is.

The unlikely duo weren’t seen together anymore anywhere.

You still went on with your day though. You wanted to support your sweet best friend through every competition he had, every breakdown he cried for, every problem he harbored.

It was different this time, you two couldn’t deny it. From strangers to best friends, then back to strangers.

The feelings you long since had have grown into something you couldn’t ignore. Despite every embarrassing moment you experienced from being turned down, the way his smile grew bigger every time their team won had your heart swooning. This Jimin, admittedly now one of the most popular heartthrobs of your school, brought your tummy butterflies that won’t die down.

On your fifth friendship anniversary, you decided it was time you get Jimin for just a day. Heck, just an hour with him would suffice. It’s been long since you two were together and why not hang out on the day that started it all?

“Chim, let’s eat at Belle Vie today. I’m not taking no for an answer,” You huffed in faux confidence, momentarily ignoring that little voice in your head who taunted at you.

“Ah… what’s the occasion?”

Are you kidding me?!

“June 13th! It’s our friendship anniversary dummy,” You grinned hesitantly as your voice wavered.

You never thought you’d have to remind him of this date. It was the other way around! He would surprise you and treat you to Belle Vie because you two were friends!

“Alright… I’ll meet you there.”

There wasn’t as much enthusiasm in his voice as he had last year. It was now blatantly obvious he wanted nothing to do with you.

You figured it was time for your last resort, confessing to everything you’ve felt. Maybe this time… Maybe this time he’ll have a change of heart.

Rain poured down when afternoon came. The clouds were weeping at the loss of friendship. Or maybe it was long gone and you just realized it now and the clouds were sad for another reason…

The two of you were sitting in the same booth you first did, the one nearest to the window. You both ended up getting the same food you always bought. You found yourselves in the same predicament you first met— awkward, silent, and nervousness.

Everything was the same yet everything was different.

The Jimin in front of you now, for example, was strikingly different from the Jimin you met. But you were still the same ol’ Y/N he first met.

You were finally fed up with everything he had thrown your way. Every rejection he made you face, every embarrassing moment you had to endure, every ounce of pain you had to feel.

“What happened to us?” You whispered, looking at anything but this stranger in front of you.

He raised an eyebrow, “Us? What do you mean? Don’t get carried away, Y/N.”

“You were never like this to me, Jimin… You always went to me for everything… Now we don’t even t-talk,” You cried out weakly, too hurt to prevent anything from not being said.

“I’m not gonna be there at your every beck and call, Y/N! I’m not gonna be with you forever! You’re not even my girlfriend! God, how clingy can you get!?” Jimin harshly let out.

Your eyes widened as his remarks flowed into your head and repeatedly taunted you. Tears welled up in your eyes, unable to believe that this is the person you called your best friend.

“I… I can’t believe I like you,” Your face visibly cringed when you said that word. That specific word that wasn’t even enough to describe the immense love you had for this boy who had chosen to hurt you with his words.

It was out. The secret you had for so long is finally out.

Instead of anything welcoming, however, Jimin only mumbled a “what?” out of disbelief. Maybe he wasn’t hearing himself correctly.

This expression of his told you more than you needed to know. Despite the tears now flowing freely, you asked him softly.

“H-hey… Do you know what Belle Vie means?”

You were met with silence. He stared at you as you tried to salvage this piss-poor conversation.

“It means Beautiful Life… and I’m glad to have experienced that with you, Jimin…”

He didn’t say anything back, just a weak, “Goodbye.”

And there was nothing.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It was supposed to end on a somewhat lighter note. Laughter should’ve rang through the room by now from your remark, or at least a chuckle should’ve been heard from his lips as he denies your claim. He should’ve continued eating his pastries or at least change the topic to the song currently playing in Belle Vie.

There shouldn’t be silence. You shouldn’t hear the pitter patter of the rain outside from the cafe you’re in.

But it did.

Your longtime crush and now ex-friend walked out of the door, and with him left the five-year friendship you two built.

What a beautiful life, indeed.

permanent taglist: @luvinseokjinnie @97faerie @amoreguk

#bts x reader #bts #bts imagine #bts angst #bts fluff #park jimin #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #jimin x fem! reader #jimin angst #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #sad hours bros #belle vie