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erospandemos · 4 months

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Winter's mission

Aespa Winter x Reader

Winter finds your secret diary and most importantly, your secret bucket list. Upon the discovery, she decides to fulfil every possible desire. The problem, however, is that every aspiration revolves around Winter herself.

Minjeong and you agreed to do a marathon to watch the whole drama you had both been saving up to watch. Your friend came to your house right before lunch so you could start eating with the first episode. It was just like the other times: she promised she wouldn’t get too invested and after two episodes she’d start screaming from frustration when the main leads were this close to kissing but backed away. You’d be laughing and she’d be yelling at you because it was a serious matter.

In the late afternoon, Minjeong got hungry. She begged you to get her favorite snack, the pepero sticks. You bought them two weeks ago and put them somewhere in your kitchen but didn’t remember at all. Still, your friend wanted one thing and one thing only. You tried to refuse but when she showed you her googly eyes and puffed her cheeks, you gave in. She was just too cute.

So you stood up and reluctantly made your way to the kitchen.

However, you made a big mistake by leaving the room without checking the stuff on your table, most notably your diary. Minjeong saw it clearly, the weathered journal peeking out from under a pile of books on the bedside table. She knew it wasn’t a notebook because she’d been your friend long enough to have memorized all your preferences and you were too cheap to buy such a nice diary.

Curiosity piqued, she hesitated for a moment to think if she should do it or not. She chewed her lower lip, with a light sense of guilt. You were gone to find some hidden and forgotten snack, so it should have been long enough—she had enough time. The more she waited, the more dangerous it was.

Minjeong made up her mind. She lifted the books and took out the notebook. She sat cross-legged on your bed, ready to reveal your secrets. As she contemplated opening it, a rush of adrenaline hit her veins, causing her heart to quicken and her muscles to tense up. She hasn’t even read a single letter yet but sweat was already dripping down her back.

“I probably shouldn't be doing this, but... what's the harm?” she whispered to herself, sighing deeply. “Okay, just a peek. It won’t hurt anyone.”

Minjeong took one last deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she started to open the diary. The creak of the leather seemed to echo in the room, she was alone. She started reading the entries, a mix of doodles, random thoughts, and personal reflections.

Some of the pages only had silly ramblings like how you noticed a game’s sale too late and had to pay 5 dollars more. Minejong giggled lightly but the adrenaline was still there. Her breathing became shallow, her gaze scanning the words on the page. As she flipped through the pages, she stumbled upon an entry that caught her off guard.

She raised her eyebrow as she started reading it:

SATURDAY 21 OCTOBER, 2023 I’m pretty sure Minjeong is playing with my heart. She’s been acting a lot more touchy lately. She was hugging my arm, hugging me and constantly touching me. She hugged me before as well since we’re friends but it just feels different these days. It’s probably because I’m a boy and she’s a girl. Even if we’ve been friends for a long time, she’s too cute for me to ignore. I think I like her. My heart beats faster when she’s around. I get nervous and fidgety. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s quite weird.

Winter's cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and excitement. Her curiosity took over her, she had to know. She had to know more.

TUESDAY 7 NOVEMBER, 2023 I almost had a heart attack when I saw Minjeong with someone else. They were acting so friendly and I just felt my heart shrink. I’m not attractive compared to them. Maybe I should go to the gym. But that wouldn’t change my face, would it? Dear Diary, I really really like her.

“Wait, this is all about me?” Minjeong whispered to herself. She skimmed through the stupid entries and found even more pages about herself. She covered her mouth, blushing madly. “Oh my… I had no idea.” She couldn’t help but smile and continue flipping through the pages.

TUESDAY 14 NOVEMBER, 2023 Minjeong is back at it again. I’ve met her eyes a couple of times today and it was simply enchanting. The way her face lit up when our eyes connected mate my heart skipped a beat. She looks honest. Happy and amazing. I wish I could see her eyes every day, see every feeling in her pupils, knowing she wouldn’t be afraid to hide anything from me. Of course, I’d do the same. Minjeong is already a great friend, she’d be a great girlfriend as well. I thought about confessing for the first time. It was really a stupid thought. There is no way someone like her would accept me. I’m just a bum. I don’t even like myself, why would she? Eventually, someone will come and take her away, I just have to accept it. I love you, Minjeong.

WEDNESDAY 22 NOVEMBER, 2023 Am I a pervert for looking at Minjeong’s legs? My eyes were glued to her thighs. Maybe for a couple of minutes. Yeah, that’s definitely too much.

Minjeong glanced down at her shorts and bear legs and suddenly she felt too exposed. She regretted wearing such revealing clothes.

MONDAY 27 NOVEMBER, 2023 I want to love Minjeong properly. She’s such a perfect girl. I want her to feel loved. I’d cuddle and hug her a lot if she was my girlfriend. I daydreamed in class instead of listening to the literature lesson and this thought came to me: Minjeong backhugging me. That’s it. That’s the thought. It was enough to make me a blushing mess. Dear Diary, I have a problem.

Minjeong didn’t feel exposed anymore, she just felt warm and flustered. “You silly…” Minjeong said. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then hugged the diary close to her chest. “I never knew you felt this way…”

Fearing that you might be coming back, Minjeong thought that she had read enough and it was time to put it away. She just stood up and was about to put the diary back on the desk when a piece of paper fell out. It looked like it was sandwiched between the hardcover and the last page. She picked it up from the ground and read it.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Top marks Try skiing Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

Minjeong didn’t have the time to put it away when she heard your steps. She just stuffed the diary under the books and kept the paper in her pocket.

Minejong quickly recollected herself. She straightened out the few messy strands and the wrinkled clothes. She took a deep breath and shook off the agitation, anything could have been suspicious in your eyes. You weren’t dumb—although you weren’t exactly smart either—so Minjeong had to be extra careful. That said, she had to think of a way to put the little paper back in place because surely you would have noticed the next time you were going to write about how fantastic the latest wrestling match you watched was.

“Here you go,” you said, throwing Minjeong the box of pepero. “You had me looking everywhere for those… fortunately they were still good.”

Minjeong smiled, picking up the box from her lap, a natural grin on her small lips. “Thank you, you’re amazing.”

You had no words to reply but only another smile. You exhaled, letting your body drop lifeless on the bed, beside your friend. The episode was still at the 26:56 mark, and you were recollecting what happened previous to the still frame.

“Oh, by the way, I also got a bag of chocolates,” you said. You took the plastic bag you left on the corner of the folded covers. It was full of those little bite-sized chocolates you’d buy to decorate your tables in the living room when someone was coming over during the winter; or for a bunch of kids. But you got the smaller version, which also cost a couple of bucks more because it was of “fine quality”.

“No way!” she said, letting go of the pepero, forgotten like it never meant anything to her. You looked at the Oreo-looking box and blinked a few times. Why did it feel so relatable?

“You know I love chocolate!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I bought it,” you said.

When you pressed the space bar on your laptop and the episode restarted, the room fell into a comfortable silence. You could only hear the dialogues coming from the speakers and Minjeong cutely munching on her peperos. You were grinning widely, having more fun staring at the hamster beside you than the scenes on the screen themselves.

Minjeong on the other hand, wasn’t exactly happy. Sure, the joy from her discovery was still lingering in her mind but so was the shock. The crunchy sticks of chocolate and biscuit took the roles of her nails, on which she nervously munched without stop, box after box. She would steal glances at you from time to time, and seeing you smile so happily, laughing and passionately talking to her, made her feel things she had never felt before.

She wasn’t sure if it was indigestion or butterflies in her stomach, but the thing was, Minjeong couldn’t focus on the screen at all. Her mind was still processing the revelations from the secret diary, she tried to act nonchalant, and fortunately, you couldn’t see her well, but her cheeks were betraying a faint blush.

“The cat is so round, it looks like a bag of potatoes, don’t you think?” you laughed.

“Y-yeah,” she whispered. Winter cleared her throat, “So, what do you think will happen next in the drama?”

“What do you mean? They’re like—they’re gonna kiss. Look at the romantic tension. I bet it’s gonna be a cliffhanger.”

“Right, right…” Minjeong continued to stare at the screen. Didn’t the protagonists kinda look like you and her…? She swore they were very similar at that moment. Somehow she could see herself in the shoes of the girl, while you could have been the protagonist, with that manly shoulders and features—ehem—you had the same eyes. Yes, that’s exactly what Minjeong was thinking, or at least, that’s what she wanted to think.

The protagonists, Ji-hoon and Soo-mi, stood close, their eyes filled with emotions, concealed, to the point of overflowing. Just like her and you. Ji-hoon tenderly reached out, cupping Soo-mi's face in his hands. With a soft smile, he gently brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, his touch lingering. His fingers looked very gentle, you always have been gentle too, maybe if it was you doing, it would feel…

“Minjeong.”

“What?!” The girl squirmed lightly, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly self-aware. The romantic scene felt really closer than usual and her facade was slowly falling.

“I think it’s about to happen,” you said, still keeping your eyes attached to the screen. “They’re gonna kiss, I feel it.”

“Uh,” Minjeong started, terribly awkward. “These romantic scenes are always so... uh, intense, right?

“What do you…” you turned around and saw her heated cheeks. You looked at her and raised an eyebrow. The corner of her mouth twitched. “You're blushing, Minjeong. Are you sure you're okay?”

“Me? Blushing?” she fumbled. “No, I'm perfectly fine. It's just... you know, the drama.”

On the screen, the air crackled with tension as Ji-hoon kept cupping Soo-mi's face, his eyes searching hers for consent. Without words, their lips finally met in a tender yet passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, leaving only the sweet symphony of their hearts and the intoxicating warmth of the embrace.

Minjeong was watching everything but the kiss.

“You're not usually this flustered,” you observed. Minjeong’s behavior was really weird. You looked back at the screen and it all looked normal. They were in their slowed-down shot with the ballad in the background.

“Yeah, well, it's just a really good episode,” she said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You tried to look at her by bending down and tilting your head but likewise, she turned around to avoid you. It looked strange but you just continued to watch the drama, accepting her answer.

As the episode concluded, Minjeong heaved a silent sigh of relief. She attempted to divert attention by reaching for more snacks, hoping to distract both herself and you from the lingering awkwardness.

You continue to the next episode.

You turned around and tried to get one of the snacks that were on her side. As you stretched, your hand brushed against Minjeong’s thigh. At the touch, she jolted with a loud gasp. It was like you sent a shock through her body.

“Oops, sorry about that,” you said apologetically, retrieving the box to your side.

“N-no problem at all,” she stammered.

You continued to watch without thinking much of it but Minjeong was completely on the edge. When you shifted and adjusted yourself, your leg would accidentally brush against hers. Or when you wanted to take the water bottle and you’d hug her shoulder by mistake. The blush on her cheeks continued to grow and she started to want to get out of there.

Your touches continued, all the ones that you were both accustomed to before, now sent a ripple of flustered nerves through Minjeong.

Eventually, the episodes ended and you came to the end of the drama. Minjeong’s nerves finally relaxed. You helped her gather her things and after chatting for a while, you bid her goodbye. You insisted on bringing her home, especially since it was quite late but she didn’t want to hear any of it and ran outside.

Minjeong slept well that night. She had all sorts of dreams and fantasies—was someone in the hallway, they’d think an actress was rehearsing for her future role. When she woke up, however, it was another story. Thanks to the newly found clarity of mind, the realization hit her harder than ever.

You liked her.

You! You.

You liked her.

Minjeong sighed and sat up on the bed.

She liked you.

Yes, she.

She liked you.

Now she had two options: either ignore it, act like nothing happened, which was both the easiest and hardest choice she could take; or deal with it. Minjeong didn’t like the idea of ignoring what she found. It would be like playing with your feelings. Really, you confessed indirectly, she has read all of your honest words, letter by letter, and now knew all of your feelings. You confessed to her.

But she also didn’t want to talk to you about it. Because, well, it was embarrassing.

What if you didn’t feel ready for a relationship? Maybe your journal was an outlet for your stress where you poured out all of your feelings knowing full well you couldn’t be with her.

Maybe it wasn’t a journal, maybe it was a fictional diary that you were writing. Like some sort of diary of a wimpy kid but for lovers.

Maybe you were writing about another girl. You knew that someone could have found your diary, just like Minjeong did, so you used another name. You could have been in some sort of Romeo and Juliet type of affair and the repercussions could have been deadly.

Minjeong was just making stuff up at this point. Let’s face it, you were just a normal person and what she read were real journal entries.

She sighed heavily. “Why?! Why did I…” she yelled. Minjeong closed her eyes and remembered your words—how sweet they were, how honest and meaningful—then shook her head. “It’s better this way.”

The piece of paper was still on the desk, crumbled and waiting. She got up and held it in her hand, skimming through your bucket list again.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Try skiing Top marks Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

She just ignored your last desire—the crossed-out line was still pretty readable but it was too embarrassing right now. You have helped her a lot until now, making most of the dreams from her bucket list come true. Yet, she has never had the chance to pay you back. Minjeong thought carefully and realized that this was the perfect occasion. She liked you so she would have liked it too and if you didn’t want to get into a relationship with her, at least she could fulfill a couple of your desires.

Minjeong clutched the paper with determinatione; it was her mission.

Objective 1: Secure the date

When Minjeong made up her mind and got up, two steps from the door of the room, she realized one thing: she had never been on a date. Such a pretty girl like Minjeong should have been asked out at least ten times by now. Especially since she wasn’t exactly shy or intimidating. And truly she had been asked out, but she never accepted. She’d say she had to focus on her studies, or that she wasn’t ready, or that it wasn’t the age for that kind of thing.

Minjeong turned while holding her chin, her eyebrow furrowed in deep thought. She had a location—the skating ring—that was a starter. But now, what do you do on a date? Minjeong tried to recall all the dramas she had watched: maybe she’d get some sort of idea. She has watched plenty of shows, surely there was something useful.

Characters would usually kiss each other ‘accidentally’ for example. Minjeong tried to imagine the scene: you and her walking in the frozen streets, her tripping and falling in your arms… some kids bumping into you, your lips brushing against her in a split second. Minejong started to blush terribly. “No, no, no, that’s not good,” she shook her head to get the thought out of her mind.

She was definitely overthinking this. You probably didn’t know any better than her and couples don’t really prepare that much before a date—it had to be natural. Minjeong decided to call you. There was a skating ring opened in the city during that period so that was the right occasion.

She gripped her phone, inhaled and exhaled. “Just hanging out,” she pointed out. “That’s right, don’t stress Minjeong, it’s just a hangout between friends.”

After Minjeong decided what to say and prepared all the possible dialogue options, which took about half an hour, she dialed your number and called. She couldn’t even calm her mind that you already picked up.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey,” Minjeong answered.

“Oh, Minjeong, how are you? Why are you calling me?”

“Well, I’ve got an idea for you.”

“Shoot.”

Minjeong swallowed her saliva. “How about we go skating at the ice rink? They opened it in the city center, I think it would be fun.”

“Skating, huh? Uhm… well, I’ve been thinking about it,” you said, you’ve been really thinking about it. It was such a weird coincidence that Minjeong asked you about it. However, “I haven’t done that in ages. Are you sure I won’t end up flat on my back?” You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of your crush.

Minjeong laughed jokingly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back… or, well, I’ve got your back if you do fall. But trust me, you’ll learn pretty quick.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m not really convinced.”

“Come on, we’ll have fun. They also sell hot chocolate and crepes. I’ll buy it for you if you come!”

“Free food? Okay, you’ve convinced me. When do you wanna see each other?”

“How about Saturday? We should both be free.”

“Sounds good. Alright, thanks, see ya.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as she hung up, Minjeong started jumping around like a maniac. She felt like she was a kid again, so excited and happy. She just forgot to tell you at what time to come. Whatever. She could have texted the time later. Plans were just going as planned.

The plans did not go as planned.

Objective 2: Find a replacement

Minjeong spent her whole morning preparing for the date. She looked at all the possible cafés and restaurants and food places you two could go to in case you got hungry. Then she looked at all the possible outfits she had in her wardrobe. She called her friend, Karina to help her decide the clothes. They ended up giggling and talking for about 5 hours about Minjeong’s story with you and Karina’s love interest.

In the end, they decided to go for the simplest sweater and pants they could find. It was to “not hide Minjeong’s natural beauty” as Karina put it. Whatever that meant.

You met right at the entrance of the city. You were already waiting there.

You found it hard to recognize Minjeong. She was bundled up in a big cozy scarf, a huge hat, and big gloves. The jacket was also quite thick, making her look like a snowman. You knew Karina didn’t let her go out of the house before dressing her up properly. You smiled, she looked very cute.

The both of you made your way to the ice ring talking about uni, friends, work, and so on. Being with Minjeong was always a pleasure as you could confide in each other about whatever problem or worry you had.

Hand in hand, you scrolled through the city, the subtle crunch of snow beneath your feet providing a serene soundtrack. There were a lot of people on the street. You came early but the sky was already starting to darken.

When you reached the ice rink, you gulped. Minjeong instead, was extremely excited. You paid for the skate shoes, slipped them in, and stepped on the ice.

The ice beneath your skates glistened brightly, it felt like ice, ready to crack, ready to swallow you in case you fell and gave in to the demons of the cold. Minjeong was still excited. She was already laughing while looking at the small kids tumble down the ice like bowling pins.

Wrapped in the warmth of your scarf and being alongside Minjeong, provided you enough confidence and comfort to aid your attempt. You stepped slowly, your legs shaking. Your friend held your hand and guided you through the edge of the ring until you found the right rhythm to continue on your own.

Your confidence grew, maybe too much, and you tried to make a tight turn and slipped. Your heart skipped a beat and your life flashed before your eyes. Fortunately Minjeong, with lighting reflexes, reached out and grabbed you.

“Oh my god, thank you Minjeong, you saved my life.”

“Be more careful!” she laughed.

After the incident, you started to be more careful and continued skating.

At one point, tiny snowflakes began to fall down the sky, soft and gentle. Both you and Minjeong started smiling brightly, thinking it looked like a scene from a romance movie. It really looked like what you’ve always dreamt of, skating with Minjeong under the snow.

The snowfall intensified, turning the ice rink into a snowy spectacle. It added a layer of magic to their already enchanting evening, and you continued to skate with carefree joy, leaving behind a trail of swirling snowflakes. However, as the snowfall grew heavier, the twinkling lights began to fade, and a voice over the speakers announced the temporary closure of the rink for safety reasons.

Minjeong panicked. She couldn’t end the date this way.

“Isn’t that a shame?” you said, walking away from the ice ring. “Well, I still had fun nonetheless, thank you for today, Minjeong.”

“Wait, wait,” she interrupted you. “Uhm, it’s still pretty early, wanna go back to my place?”

“Heh? Well, why not? Wanna order out?”

“Yeah, that’s fine by me.”

“Then let’s go.” Good job, Minjeong.

Objective 3: Look at the sky

You entered the pitch-black living room and turned on the lights. The room was well-lighted but still felt small and comfy, it probably was the darkness from outside the window. You glanced at Minjeong as she folded a blanket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. The air held a chill, a reminder that winter had firmly settled outside the confines of your makeshift refuge.

She nonchalantly dropped a stack of DVDs onto the coffee table, the worn covers hinting at countless movie nights spent in this room. Minjeong leaned over the desk, planting her hands on the edge. Minjeong's gaze shifted to you, What do you feel like watching?"

I shrugged, my gaze scanning the room as if the answer lay hidden in the faded wallpaper. "Anything. Surprise me." She picked a random DVD, its label scratched and worn. She put the disc into the blueray reader and grabbed the remote. The sofa creaked as Minjeong plopped down, patting the cushion next to her. "Grab a blanket. It's gonna get colder."

You complied, dragging a fuzzy throw from the back of a nearby chair. You two draped yourselves in layers of warmth, settling into the groove of the well-worn sofa cushions. The silence enveloped you, a familiar companion that required no words.

Halfway through the movie, however, Minjeong looked at the sky: it stopped snowing. It was like the snow had purged all the previous filth between the clouds and smog and left it a pure black, only decorated by the glowing stars. Minjeong kept slapping at your leg and pointing at the sky until you turned around and the view stunned you.

Objective 4: Hold that hand

“Wow…” your friend whispered.

“Yep,” you said back. The two of you continued to watch the sky, while Kung Fu Panda 2 was becoming noise in the background and your conversation shifted to the sight. You raised an arm, pointing at the bright dots.

“You know, the color of a star indicates its temperature,” you said. “Hotter stars appear blue or white, while cooler ones look red.”

“How is it red if it’s colder?” Minjeong said, puzzled.

“It’s about the waves of light emitted. To put it simply, cooler stars emit less blue light so they look red.”

Minjeong smiled, “That's interesting, but you know, in astrology, stars, and their positions also play a significant role. I'm a Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, and it says a lot about my personality.”

As soon as you heard the word ‘astrology’ you sighed heavily and rolled your eyes, sliding down the sofa. Minjeong has already filled your head with that stuff to the brim. Whenever she had time or whenever she bought a magazine from the news kiosk, she’d start reading the entire thing of the signs, you don’t even remember what it was called.

“Astrology, Minjeong? Seriously?”

Your friend furrowed her eyebrows from annoyance and spoke defensively, “What? It's fascinating! Capricorns are disciplined, ambitious, and practical. I mean, doesn't that sound like me?”

“Disciplined? Sure. But practical?” you laughed. “You're the one who believes in star signs.”

“Well, you're just a typical Capricorn skeptic. But I bet you secretly find it intriguing.”

You chuckled and shook your head. You two laughed it off and the silence resumed. After a brief moment, where your breaths signed the passing of time, you noticed Minjeong’s glow in the dark. Your heart fluttered as you watched her profile against the moonlight. Sometimes you forget your true feelings for your friend, but they always come back.

You sighed while turning back to the sky. “It's such a beautiful night, isn't it?” you whispered, masking the true meaning of your words because you weren’t really talking about the night. Both of you talked in codes, not on purpose but none of you could be honest. You were too scared of her possible answer and Minjeong was too scared to lose you.

“Yeah, it is,” she said softly. As you continued stargazing in comfortable silence, her mind swirled with a mixture of emotions. The recent revelations from your secret diary still lingered in her thoughts, and her unspoken feelings were twisting and turning inside her.

Her hand slowly crept up near you, a subconscious action maybe, a planned incident perhaps; but it was the perfect occasion. You felt her touch and didn’t think twice to hold her hand. The initial contact, when your fingers intertwine, sends a wave of warmth through you. The touch is surprisingly intimate, it felt like a bridge between Minjeong and you. In a way, her feelings were coursing through you.

Objective 5: Spill it out

“Today was perfect,” you say. Minjeong silently watches you with a soft smile. “You know, I’ve always been dreaming of this moment. To watch the stars with you…” your air suddenly blocked in your throat, “Well, I—” “I already know.”

“What?”

“I already knew it. That you wanted to watch the stars—and that you wanted to go skating… with me.”

You opened your mouth to ask her how but Minjeong was faster and pulled out the crumbled piece of paper, the title ‘BUCKET LIST’ was still visible. You panicked, your eyes flicking between her stupidly satisfied smile and your embarrassing, horribly written list of desires.

You gulped and started talking, stuttering, mumbling every word, “S-so did you see the di-diary?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god… I wanna die.”

“No, wait—”

“Forget everything Minjeong, no, well, you obviously can’t,” you blurted out, you didn’t know what to say anymore. “I’m sorry you had to read that. It was gross. I’m going to move out of the country, buy tickets, pack things, you’ll forget about me and I’ll start my new life—”

“I like you too!”

“What did you just say?” you stopped and looked at her with wide eyes.

Minjeong's admission hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound between you two was the soft rustling of the crumpled bucket list paper in her hands. Your eyes widened, locked onto hers, searching for any sign of jest or misdirection, but all you found was true sincerity. Her pupils stared at you, eagerly waiting for your answer.

"You... you like me too?" you stammered, hesitant and scared that you might have heard the wrong words.

Minjeong nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Yes. I like you. I read your list, and it wasn't gross. It was... endearing. Honestly, it made my heart race a little."

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, a mixture of relief and newfound anxiety. "I thought I'd scared you away with that stuff."

Minjeong chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not at all. It made me realize we share the same dreams, the same desires. I've been wanting to do those things too, you know?"

The weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a warmth that settled deep within. You felt a connection, a shared vulnerability that made the revelation less daunting. "So... what does this mean?" you asked, your voice soft.

She leaned in, her gaze unwavering. "It means we don't have to dream about those things anymore. We can make them happen together."

A grin broke across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. "Yeah, together."

Minjeong's hand found yours, and this time, it wasn't just for a casual touch but a deliberate, reassuring connection. The stars above seemed to twinkle in approval as you both sat there, hand in hand, in the quiet realization that your shared dreams weren't just fantasies on a crumpled piece of paper anymore—they were possibilities waiting to unfold.

“There’s still a last wish on that list I can fulfill…” Minjeong whispered. She took a deep breath and went for it.

She kissed you.

Minjeong's eyes, soft and inviting, met yours, and at that moment, the world outside faded into insignificance.

"I've been wanting to do this," Minjeong whispered, her voice a delicate murmur that hung in the space between you. Her fingers grazed the side of your face, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The proximity between you became charged, the magnetic pull undeniable.

You didn't need words. The unspoken agreement lingered in the air, and with a gentle tilt of her head, Minjeong closed the distance. The first brush of her lips against yours felt like the tentative caress of a butterfly's wings, a delicate exploration that spoke volumes. It was a moment of hesitancy and boldness, a dance between vulnerability and longing.

You didn’t say anything else, the look in your and her eyes understood each other perfectly and you kissed again. The first one was a quick peck, a mix of fear and sudden braveness. The second one was the overflow of your feelings, a long and deep kiss, a slow fusion of warmth and connection.

The world outside might have continued its relentless pace, but within the embrace of that kiss, time became elastic, bending to the rhythm of your shared heartbeat. It was a stolen moment, a stolen kiss, and yet, it felt like something long overdue, as if the universe itself had conspired to bring your lips together in this tender collision.

When the kiss finally broke, your lips naturally curled into a large smile while she hid under the blanket from the embarrassment. Minjeong emerged only a moment later, red and flustered. “Uhm, I wasn’t too bad, right? That was my first kiss…”

“It was my first too, and no, it wasn’t bad. It was amazing,” you said honestly. “I just like how I dreamed.”

Minjeong and you laughed together. This was just the start of the many more desires you two would fulfil together.

Mission completed

THE END

Written, 03 December 2023 - 14 December 2023

#aespa #aespa winter #winter #kim minjeong #kpop fluff #kpop #aespa fluff #winter fluff

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 8 months

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E like enigma

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles August warm-up round. Prompt: college AU.

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: Secret admirer, not actually unrequited love, no UD AU

"Oooh," Robin croons and hands him a book from the stack of returns. "You've got another!"

"Oh yeah?"

Steve's stomach does a funny little flip, but he tries to keep his tone casual. He fails. Knows it. Knows that she knows he tried, and knows he failed. Robin wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

"C'mon, have a look! What does it say?"

Steve steals a glance at the part of the college library that's visible from their desk. As is to be expected on a Friday night, there aren't many people around. Just some students frantically studying for exams or pouring over last-minute papers.

Robin nudges him impatiently. He sighs and flips the book open.

The name scrawled at the bottom of the lending card in narrow, scratchy handwriting is the same as always.

E. Munson

As always, there's a sheet of cheap notebook paper tucked next to it, folded in half.

The first time this happened, Steve didn’t put much meaning to it. Students will use all kinds of things as bookmarks. Candy wrappers, restaurant bills, hell, even a condom wrapper on one particularly noteworthy occasion. (Robin gagged so hard at that one she had to excuse herself to the staff room for a solid ten minutes.)

So, the first time he emptied the returns box and found a note in one of the books, he assumed E. Munson had simply forgotten to take it out.

There was a little heart doodled on it, and the words You’re really cute underneath. It had to be from E.'s girlfriend or boyfriend, surely. Steve wondered if they'd miss it.

Ever since, the notes have gotten more specific and, lately, more and more frequent. Some will compliment his hair or his clothes or his smile. Those make him preen a little, even though he denies it to Robin’s grinning face. Others are soft and thoughtful, telling him to drink enough water when it's hot outside, or asking if he's resting enough when he's stressing over exams. Those make him feel a different kind of happy - all warm and fuzzy and light.

The books with the notes only ever show up on Steve’s shifts, and only ever in the returns box. Whoever E. Munson is, they're pretty damn sneaky.

They're also driving Steve low-key insane. Because the notes are lovely, don't get him wrong. He kind of already has his eyes on someone else, though. Even if it's silly, even if he's sure nothing will come of it …

Robin is looking like she's about to explode with anticipation, so he sighs and folds the note open.

Wanna take you out for drinks after your shift. Meet me at the back entrance?

The back entrance is illuminated only by one dim streetlight and he is a little sorry he turned down Robin's offer of standing guard around the corner. There's a lonely figure standing just outside the keg of light, smoking a cigarette and-

"Oh. Hi, Eddie."

Eddie looks up at him and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile. And maybe it's the lamplight or the foggy air of the early fall afternoon, but his face looks uncharacteristically soft.

"Steve, hey. Hoped you'd show up."

"Y-yeah?" Steve stutters, stomach swooping with something that's half joy and half horror.

See, the thing is, he likes Eddie. They're majoring in different subjects, so they've only had two or three classes together. Hell, he doesn’t even know the guy's last name.

They've talked a few times, though. Maybe even flirted a bit.

But he has no delusions about this turning into anything more. The flirting and the furtive glances over the tops of textbooks are one thing, but there's no way that Eddie - with his rings and his leather and his chains and his unruly mop of dark curls that Steve itches to bury his hands in - would actually be into preppy ex-jocks in pastel colored polos.

Still, Steve can't help but feel drawn in by Eddie’s quick wit and smart mouth, that bold bark of a laugh. Not to mention his smile. How the corners of his eyes crinkle with it. How it makes a gentleness poke through that intimidating facade that Steve would like to learn more about.

He's smiling like that now, and Steve feels his heartbeat quicken and has to bite back a curse. Just his luck that Eddie would show up now, of all times. Now that the mysterious note writer is actually making their move and Steve has decided to try and give them a chance.

"Erm, listen man …" he starts to say. The collar of his sweater is suddenly too scratchy and too warm on his skin, so he reaches up to tug at it.

Eddie hums and the smoke of his cigarette mingles with the fog.

"Yellow suits you, y’know? You should wear it more."

And shit, if that isn't exactly what one of the notes said, only last week. Steve screws his eyes shut and heaves an aggravated sigh.

"Yeah, thanks. Listen, I'm sorry Eddie, I really am, but this is kind of a bad time? I'm meeting someone here and-"

"Ah, the elusive E., right?"

Steve nods. "Right. They'll probably show up any-"

And wait.

Wait.

Hold on a goddamn, motherfucking second.

He never told Eddie about the notes.

When he opens his eyes to gawk at Eddie, that smile has turned about one-hundred-and-twenty-three percent more smug.

"How do you …?" he starts to say.

One of Eddie’s eyebrows disappears under his fringe.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

There's a beat of silence. Something slots into place, and-

"Oh."

They both snort matching laughs as Eddie swoops into a bow and offers his hand.

"Eddie Munson, at your service. Now, are you still game for those drinks?"

Steve is.

The next time Eddie slips a note into his returns, he drops the books off in person.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fanfic #my writing #steddie drabble #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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ellieswifie · 7 months

Text

︿︿ ੈ[ 🎶 ] ༉‧₊˚✧

thinking about ellie teaching you to play guitar…

blurb

you’d be minding your own business sitting across the room from your girlfriend while she has the guitar in her hands, stroking the strings carelessly. you guys haven’t said much since you sent her a message indicating you were coming over.

you were in your notebook drawling little doodles and sketches of her as she attempted to play the guitar. but you notice something was off about her.

maybe it was the way she didn’t have her joyful smile while she played, or maybe it was the way you weren’t sitting beside her as she played like you usually are.

"hey babe?" you called, causing ellie’s head to quickly dart up to your face. "hmm?"

you smiled at her sudden reaction, placing the notepad on the bed, walking over to where ellie was seated. you stood in front of her, tapping her lap softly.

her head nodded as she placed the instrument on the floor, allowing you to sit on her thigh. you wrapped your arm around the back of her neck when she pulled the guitar back up, resting it on your lap.

ellie held your hands carefully bringing them up to the strings. a cheap giggle left your lips as she spread your fingers on the neck of the instrument.

"i have no idea what i’m doing." you smiled, causing ellie to laugh against your neck.

"let me teach you." she whispered.

and you let her. she held your hands as she moved your fingers from note to note. it didn’t sound perfect, but you felt as if you were getting there.

"i like when you teach me." you muttered as ellie removed the guitar from your guys lap, pulling her full attention on you.

her cheeks heated a bright red when you pressed a soft kiss on her temple. "i like teaching you." ellie smiled, pulling you further down on her lap.

"but i like you more."

#ellieswifie #gracie writes #fem!reader #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #college!ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams blurb #lesbians

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raainberry · 4 months

Text

Studious Confession

« Done deliberately or with a purpose in mind. »

Yunjin x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - you and your friend yunjin get sidetracked while speed running revisions for finals

wordcount - 1.8K

A/N - save me scholar yunjin, save me…

Absolute academic weapons.

That’s what you and Yunjin aimed to be when you scheduled a study session at your campus library. Exam season was breathing down your necks, and you ignored it for as long as you could, taking each other on the most impromptu hang-outs instead.

Convenience store runs that lead to mukbangs, walks around campus that somehow turned into treetop adventures, late night drives after a long day of classes you spent screaming to whatever she played on the aux… Risking your education (and probably your future) had never been so fun, but all good things must come to an end.

As the end of your junior year approached you were the first one to bring up studying, suggesting you should probably pump the breaks on the distractions. She only called you a nerd, but gave in when you proposed to study together.

The time itself wouldn’t be fun at all, but at least she’d spend it with you. “A win is a win.”, she’d said over the phone, and it only took a few more days to actually motivate yourselves. Reserving a study room was a step in the right direction, but what happened in there would only make you take two steps back.

“That doesn’t even look like me.” You said after she revealed her doodle in the corner of your notebook.

She spent the last five minutes trying to sketch your features out on the bit of blank paper left on your notes instead of focusing on her own.

“Yes it does, look!” She gestured at the messy drawing. “That’s your eyes and your mouth.”

“I am looking, I’m just not seeing.”

It actually did look like you, Yunjin was too talented for it not to. You were just looking at it upside down as you sat across the table from her.

“Well look harder!”

“I don’t want to, stop distracting me!” You whined, switching your pen for a highlighter.

“You’re so mean! Give me my airpod back.” She whined back, actually catching your attention this time.

“What?”

“I don’t want to share my music with you anymore. I need to listen to sad music alone because you’re so mean to me.” She argued, her hand out waiting for the airpod in your ear.

“Are you serious?” You asked, and she only stared at you, retreating her hand only to fold her arms over her chest. “If I say it does look like me, can I keep it?”

“You can keep the drawing, yeah.” She scoffed and you sighed.

You were unsure whether she was serious or not, so you decided to try something that could only have a positive outcome.

“Coffee break?” You proposed, and just like that, her smile was back.

Relief washed over you when her hand found yours, dragging you down to the nearest vending machine. The latter was familiar, it has seen your faces more times than the study rooms as you sometimes only came by to get a coffee from the machine right next to it.

That’s where you met Yunjin, on one of the rare nights she dedicated to her due projects. You’d offered her one of those cheap paper cups, a hole in your student wallet but nothing compared to the world she invited you in afterwards.

Her own little world, the person she was within it, the things she saw and built… It was all so beautiful. You’d get her a thousand of them if it meant learning one new thing every time.

Sometimes you brought her here in hopes for it, and it never failed. The same thing would happen: you’d get her a coffee, she would fight you, try to pay for yours, and you’d ask her about something you’d noticed about her to change the subject. Small details you’d noticed; a pretty necklace, some new earrings, a new hairstyle or the way her makeup looked. Sometimes her mood stood out to you, had you curious. She’d soon forget about her self-imposed debt, getting caught up in the excitment of whatever had caught your attention that day.

“I like your glasses today. How many pairs do you have?” You asked after she sighed out your name. “This is like the fifth pair I’ve seen you wear.”

“Thank you. I have a few. Even more back home.” She said, making you raise an eyebrow.

Her answer was shorter than usual. No spilling over to another subject that your question reminded her of. No squealing about where she got them from, holding your arm as she practically begged for you to come check the small store out with her next time.

Her hands stayed put in her pockets, below the sweater you’d asked about a few weeks ago. It looked comfortable and cozy, and she seemed to grow fond of it based on the way she pulled her hands into the sleeves so often.

“Do they even help you see?” You asked, joking around in an attempt to pull a little more out of her.

“Only two of them do. These aren’t one of them, though.” She giggled to herself, and you could only shake your head at her absurdity.

“Do you even want to pass?” You chuckled as the machine made all kinds of mechanical noises, signaling that the coffee was ready.

She rolled her eyes, getting her hands out of her pockets to grab the cup from yours. The heat emanating from it was the last thing she needed on this fair weather day, but the taste of that coffee was just too good to pass on.

The taste wasn’t the only thing that pushed her to accept each and every one of the cups you offered her. She didn’t even pay attention to it at first, but as time went on, she started looking forward to it. Sometimes to the point of craving it.

Caffeine was dangerous, sure, but she’d come to realise it wasn’t what she had become addicted to.

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

She broke the small silence that had taken its place between the two of you. One of your favorite songs was playing at a faint volume from the airpods you were still sharing, filling in for the lack of words. Your mind had drifted off, long gone and barely listening to your favorite melody as thoughts of her occupied the back of it.

The sound of her voice brought you back, all conscious and hiding how crazy you felt thinking about someone standing right next to you.

A curious hum resonated from your chest, and your eyes met her questioning ones.

“The coffee. When are you gonna let me pay you back?” She asked, and you smiled.

“You don’t need to.”

“But I want to. You spent like a hundred dollars since the beginning of the year.” She frowned.

“That’s a bit excessive. I’d say 30 dollars at the most. It’s really cheap coffee.” You pointed out.

It took everything in her not to call you a smartass. It seemed like a terrible way to confess her feelings. Especially when what she felt, the light she saw you in painted you as far more than a smartass. The opposite, or maybe a more positive and kind alternative.

“You really don’t want me to pay you back?” She insisted, and you shook your head, amused.

This wasn’t the first time she was asking, and you didn’t expect it to be the last, but your answer would remain the same.

You didn’t want her money.

“You could at least admit you want something in return.”

Her words wiped the delectation right off your face. The lighthearted atmosphere suddenly vanished, replaced by a heavy and uncomfortable one.

You had trouble finding the right way to breathe, scared it would shift the conversation into a much too unpredictable path.

“Wh—what?” You stuttered, furrowing your eyebrows in the most natural way you could.

Yunjin wasn’t having it, although in a simpler moment she would have laughed at your poor attempt.

“Come on, Y/n.” She probed. “No one gives out that many compliments out of pure kindness only.”

“There probably are a few people—” You started, but the way she stared at you kept you from rambling further.

There was no escaping it, she obviously knew what was going on. In theory, you couldn’t be surprised as you hoped for your actions to be obvious, or at the least for her to notice them.

Now that she did, you weren’t sure what to do. Hell, you didn’t even know where or how to stand anymore, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Well—I mean, I kind of have been doing this to get to know you a little more.” You mumbled.

One of her eyebrows furrowed, and you sighed. This wasn’t exactly ideal for the embarrassment you felt.

“We’ve been friends for months, is it so difficult to do that? Am I that hard to read?” She wondered, amused.

“I don’t know, it feels easier this way… For me at least.” You looked down, eyes sweeping the floor as you did your best to avoid her gaze.

Embarrassed was only the start to describing how this whole thing made you feel. Everything you did, everything you told and asked her in order to find out more, as sincere and truthful it all was… It all seemed so silly. Collecting all those bits of her personnality, of her mind; piecing them all together in sercret and falling behind closed doors…

What was the point of putting yourself through so much if it would all come to light anyway?

Would it even be worth it?

“Right. Well…” She trailed off, and your eyes were pulled by the sudden movement of her hand between the two of you.

You watched as it hesitantly approached yours, waiting to see if it would welcome it only for you to wrap your fingers around her palm in a heartbeat— that was to say it happened fast as your heart had picked up the pace for a while now.

Yunjin kept her smile to herself, hiding her appreciation behind treacherous eyes that she focused on your joined hands. The spark she held in her gaze whenever she looked at you was hard to erase—she couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it.

“Let your wallet rest a bit.” She joked, finally looking up at you. “Whatever you want to know, next time you can just ask.”

“Do you like me?”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows raised in surprise as you shared a laugh over the sudden, bold question.

It wasn’t exactly unlike you, but judging on the past couple minutes, neither of you really expected it.

“I do like you.” She admitted, a shy smile letting you know she wasn’t as cool about it as she tried to be before adding. “When you’re not nagging me about finals.”

“If this is one of your ways to get out of studying I’m gonna be so mad.” You half-joked.

It would be a pretty insane thing to pull, but you wouldn’t put it past her. She loved to avoid schoolwork, no matter the excuse.

“If it was I wouldn’t ask you to get back to it.”

“You haven’t.”

“I am now.” She smiled, tugging on your hand the same way she had to bring you here.

You could only follow as she jogged back to your study room. Whether her excitment came from studying or the progression of your relationship, you had a small idea. It put a smile on your face that you wouldn’t be able to get rid of for as long as she was the one holding your hand.

And wherever she’d lead you, you’d follow.

#lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #huh yunjin #le sserafim #yunjin fluff #le sserafim fluff

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hanasnx · 11 months

Note

okay okay here is some more ani+ hands content as promised

so i can't get the idea of anakin being smug about it out of my head. bc like, it’s such a fucking ego boost for this man that you’re falling apart for his literal hands

_____

like it starts off all innocent, with you having little doodles of anakin and some of your other friends in your little sketchbook that you never let go of

until you eventually start drawing anakin more and more… bc he’s just so pretty and drawable yk. like he’s got the curls and the scar and just how intense his eyes can be so you can’t help but draw him. until one day you watch him going on about the different parts of his lightsaber and how he’s planning to tweak it and yada yada but you’re just watching his hands bc lord almighty

you tell yourself it's an innocent, purely artistic fascination but that is NOT the case when you’re touching yourself at night thinking about ‘em so later on as you get closer (as friends or as enemies, you decide), he finds your notebook one day bc it fell out of your stuff or something and there are just these beautiful sketches of… his hands?

and at first, he’s confused? bc that couldn’t possibly be the case but his curiosity takes over, he leafs through to see different images of himself - his eyes, his side profile, him that one time he showed up with a bedhead - but most importantly his hands. He recognizes them as his own because of the level of detail and the thin rope bracelet on his left. so he becomes a man on a mission to test this theory ofc. handing you your things, letting the sleeves of his robes slide back more than necessary. taking every opportunity to put his arm around the small of your back as he needs to move past. working on his lightsaber or R2 whenever you’re around, noticing how one of the most intelligent, witty people he knows becomes simply mesmerized just watching him tinker with stuff

and now that he’s confirmed his theory? you bet your ass he is gonna use it night and day. i’m thinking of him goofing around with some of the men from his troops until he’s shoving one of them up against the wall with something like “is that how you’re gonna talk to a general?” and then he lets him go and they’re all laughing about it as they go their separate ways but when he walks past you, you hear him whisper like “you wished that was you, don’t you?” and your brain fucking short circuits. him when one day he’s trying to focus on something and all you can hear is you rambling about something or the other under he gets up puts his hand over your mouth and he feels you go pliant under him just looking at him with these bedroom eyes bc omfg you can feel how the pads of his fingers are roughly pressing into the flesh of your cheek “Just let me finish this thing without talkin’ my ear off, and maybe i’ll fuck you stupid properly, hm?” he says casually, as if he isn’t wearing the world’s smuggest look on his face. and you bet your ass this man will deliver “wanted my hands on you, is that it?” “look at you, drooling over my hands like some cheap lower-level slut” “Want my fingers in your mouth? Or around your throat until they leave pretty little bruises, hm? bcs I can make that happen” “gonna make you hump my fuckin arm until you make a fuckin mess like i know you will”

“greedy little pussy is taking my fingers like you were made for it, goddamn”

him making you watch while licks his fingers off after having his fingers in your pussy

okay i'm done for now

☥ “it’s such a fucking ego boost for this man that you’re falling apart for his literal hands”

100%

☥ “just how intense his eyes can be so you can’t help but draw him”

i love describing anakin’s eyes as intense. they’re just so present, so demanding, his gaze so severe and unforgiving. yes. intense. i love it.

☥ “he recognizes them as his own because of the level of detail and the thin rope bracelet on his left.”

the fucking rope bracelet detail. omfg. it’s so simple, so him

☥ “taking every opportunity to put his arm around the small of your back as he needs to move past.”

as i said in my last post,.,.,,.,, yes. hand at the small of your back supremacy

☥ “him when one day he’s trying to focus on something and all you can hear is you rambling about something or the other under he gets up puts his hand over your mouth and he feels you go pliant under him just looking at him with these bedroom eyes bc omfg you can feel how the pads of his fingers are roughly pressing into the flesh of your cheek”

stoppppp stop stop. shutting you up manually with just a big hand over your mouth im fucking drooooling. i’d be lookin up at him with crazy fuck me eyes fr you’re so real for saying this suffu

☥ “‘look at you, drooling over my hands like some cheap lower-level slut’; ‘want my fingers in your mouth? or around your throat until they leave pretty little bruises, hm?’; & ‘gonna make you hump my fuckin arm until you make a fuckin mess like i know you will’”

cheap lower-level slut😳💕🥴🫦😵‍💫 i think about this a lot. just,,,,, the coruscant detail, adding “cheap” makes me go so crazy. omfg. i love degradation; imagine those finger pad shaped bruises littering your neck im feral; & arm kink🚨arm kink🚨 im freeaaakaksigjngng i wanna fuck his arm so fucking bad this made me soooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫 insane. using the word “hump” god. chefs kiss.

☥ “‘greedy little pussy is taking my fingers like you were made for it,’”

this. this. this. this. insinuating you were created for the sole purpose of sex, for being obedient, for being his hole. oh god yes. i cant even fucking breathe i gotta sit down im so dizzy imagining his thick fingers stuffed inside a drippy pussy i’m sooooo😭😭

☥ “him making you watch while licks his fingers off after having his fingers in your pussy”

STOPPPPP STOP FUCKING STOPP i cant take it anymore i feel like i gotta break shit rn

the big show he’d make of it,.,.,. side eyeing you while he fucking licks his fingers clean. until his eyes are full on boring into yours as he’s sucking the remnants of your finish off his skin and you’re wishing you were the one to do it.

licking your cum/squirt off his fingers together, making out with his digits and melding your tongues through and around them… like the disgusting, impatient, greedy perverts you are.

#arm kink <3 #spoken-stardust #indy shoots the shit #anakin #thanks for the msg!!#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker prompt #x f!reader

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shou-jpeg · 8 months

Text

-Back on the Beat-

Part 4. 04

Porchay can’t stop looking at Kim.

Kim is sitting at the piano in the studio, humming tune Chay sent him earlier and adapting it for piano.

He looks so beautiful.

Kim looks amazing even on his worst days, but right now he’s ethereal; in his element and with a soft flush to his cheeks, as if he knows Chay is staring at him.

He probably does know, Kim is observant and Chay isn’t being very subtle.

Though... he’s been trying to flirt with Kim for two weeks now and Kim seems to let every attempt fly over his head. Chay would think he was being intentionally obtuse to let him know that he wasn’t interested, except Kim is the one who told Chay he wanted to try again. So Chay isn’t too sure what to think.

Does Kim just have some sort of flirting detection force field?

Maybe he’s just shy? Chay had thought that Kim was shy last time he tried this - maybe that was true.

Chay wonders if he should just ask Kim out point blank and save them both the trouble. He did tell Kim that he would let him know when he was ready to try again, Kim might be waiting for something a little more specific.

He wants to know if Boyfriend-Kim is also shy.

“I think this part would make a good prelude, and then the lyrics come in later over the top and the music builds from there, maybe a drum track and a bass to add depth.” Chay snaps back to the moment at the sound of Kim’s voice.

Right. The song.

The one they’re now composing together.

Co-writing.

Co-writing for a new WiK single, because Kim got inspired by what Chay had sent him and then asked him in the car on the way here if he wanted to help him make it into something real.

Chay dreamt of exactly this on a regular basis back when he was just a fan, except it means so much more to him now.

“It should be soft though. The drum beat should be slow but steady, like a heartbeat, and the bass will then support that same energy.” Chay picks up his pencil and begins scribbling down dot points as he talks.

“What kind of song are we writing here? We should probably decide on a theme to help guide the composition.”

“Definitely a love song.” Chay says with confidence. Kim looks at him. “I’m imagining a love song, but for a person that the singer already knows. They’ve been in love before and then were torn apart and didn't see each other for a long time. And the song is about them finding each other again and rediscovering their love for each other.”

Chay really isn’t being subtle.

Kim looks back to the piano, expression open and vulnerable. "In that case... perhaps the beat can pick up pace a little towards the bridge, to reflect the subject's emotions as he begins getting closer to his ex again." Kim says, and then begins talking about measures and other technical terms Chay isn’t that familiar with, since he’s never actually studied music theory.

He loves watching Kim talk about music though.

Chay is almost doodling hearts in his notebook.

He considers his pen for a moment. Then draws two hearts in his notebook anyway, because it’s cute and he likes being a romantic.

They stay at the studio composing late into the night, until Porsche messages Chay telling him he missed dinner, and that Nok, the bodyguard assigned to him today, needs to finish his shift and also have dinner.

Chay makes Kim order enough food at the drive through on the way back to feed both of them and also Nok, who reacts like Chay’s given him something a lot nicer than cheap take out.

“I’m never allowed to eat stuff like this anymore!”

Chay makes a note to sneak his guards junk food more often.

The rest of the drive back is quiet but not uncomfortable. Chay selects different songs to play over the car’s bluetooth and glances at Kim each time the song changes to gauge his reaction.

They pull up to the compound and Chay hops out of the car. “Should we go back to the studio again tomorrow, P'Kim?”

Kim looks down at his phone, bringing up his calendar. “I have a meeting tomorrow morning until 10am. How about I pick you up for lunch and we go to the studio after?”

“Sounds good! I’ll see you tomorrow.” Goodnight, phi. Kim smiles at him softly and Chay tries not to melt.

He closes the car door instead. Kim’s smiles are only slightly less devastating through tinted glass.

He waves goodbye as Kim pulls away and heads inside. It’s late, but he might stay up a little longer and play some video games, or to make some memes for Kim. He kind of wants to keep working on the song, but he doesn’t want to do any more without Kim around.

It’s their song now.

Chay smiles to himself.

He can’t wait until tomorrow.

---------------------------------------

Chay takes a deep breath, determined.

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#kinnporsche #kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #porchay pachara #back on the beat #i want you bach au #i want you bach au part 4 #forgot to schedule this one so its a little late lmao #oops

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elryuse · 12 days

Note

yandere classmate Takara? she's been in my mind lately

Deadly Classmate

Yandere Classmate Takara X Male Reader

The fluorescent lights hummed with an annoying buzz, casting a sterile glow on the empty classroom. Y/n squirmed in his seat, his heart a frantic drum solo against his ribs. Across the room, Takara, the K-pop idol who somehow ended up sharing his homeroom, was engrossed in a textbook. Yet, he felt her like a heat signature, the prickling sensation at the back of his neck a constant reminder.

"Hey, Takara," Y/n ventured, his voice a mere squeak. It had been weeks since they first spoke, a shy greeting that felt more like a dare than anything else.

Takara looked up, a slow, practiced smile blooming on her face. "Oh, Y/n! Didn't see you there," she chirped, her voice sugary sweet, a stark contrast to the intensity in her eyes. "Studying for the biochem test already?"

"Uh, yeah," Y/n mumbled, looking down at his notebook filled with doodles rather than chemical formulas. Her gaze felt like a physical touch, tracing every movement he made.

The weeks that followed were a slow descent into paranoia. He'd catch her lingering by his locker, a single pink hair clip – the one she always wore on stage – nestled amongst his textbooks. In the library, amidst a sea of students, he'd swear he saw a flash of her signature bubblegum pink hair tucked behind a bookshelf just before he entered a secluded corner.

One day, at lunch, Y/n decided to confront her, his nerves a knotted mess in his stomach. As she sat alone, picking at a salad, he sat down opposite her, the plastic tray feeling impossibly heavy in his hands.

"Takara," he began, his voice barely a whisper.

She looked up, her smile widening. The air crackled with unspoken tension as she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with an unsettling curiosity. "Yes, Y/n?"

"I… I've been seeing you around a lot lately," he blurted out, hating how his voice trembled.

"Just trying to be a good classmate, am I right?" she said, her voice dripping with a feigned innocence that sent shivers down his spine. "Besides, you're in all my classes, wouldn't it be strange if I didn't see you around?"

Y/n shook his head, his throat tightening. "No, that's not what I meant. It's just…" he trailed off, unsure how to articulate the suffocating feeling that had become his constant companion.

"Just what?" Takara's smile faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of something dark crossing her eyes before the sugary sweetness returned. "Don't worry, Y/n. I won't bite… much."

The playful lilt in her voice did little to ease Y/n's growing fear. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor with a loud screech. "I… I need some air," he stammered, his gaze darting around the cafeteria, searching for an escape route.

"Wait, Y/n!" Takara called after him, her voice laced with a hint of desperation that made him quicken his pace. He didn't stop until he reached the safety of the schoolyard, the crisp autumn air a welcome relief to the stifling atmosphere of the cafeteria.

His newfound resolution crumbled a few days later at the school mixer. Emboldened by a sip of cheap beer, he found himself laughing with a group of girls. One, a bubbly redhead with a mischievous glint in her eyes, took his hand, leading him onto the dance floor.

As they swayed to the music, a cold hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to see Takara, her smile gone, replaced by a mask of fury. The playful idol was gone, her eyes burning with a dangerous intensity.

"He's already promised this dance to me, hasn't he?" she hissed, her voice low and menacing.

Y/n felt the blood drain from his face. The redhead, sensing the shift in atmosphere, turned to see Takara's chilling smile. "Uh, I…" she stammered, her hand dropping from Y/n's shoulder like a hot coal.

"Don't worry," Takara purred, her voice dripping with a sickening sweetness. "He'll dance with me." Her grip tightened on Y/n's arm, sending a jolt of pain shooting up his shoulder.

The DJ switched songs, a slow, romantic ballad filling the air. Y/n felt like a puppet, his body being pulled onto the dance floor by a force he couldn't control. Takara clung to him possessively, her eyes glued to his every move.

"You shouldn't have danced with her," she whispered, her voice dangerously low. "You only belong to me, Y/n."

Y/n swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Takara, what are you…?"

"Don't worry," she interrupted, her smile widening. "I'll take care of you. You'll never have to look at anyone else again."

Terror choked his voice. The way she said "take care of you" sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't a promise of love, it was a chilling threat. The rest of the night was a blur. He spent it trapped in her suffocating embrace, her manic energy fueling his growing fear.

The next morning, news of the redhead's "accidental" fall from the school staircase hit him like a physical blow. The police ruled it a tragic accident, but Y/n knew better. He saw the triumphant glint in Takara's eyes when she heard the news, the way she hummed along to a cheery pop song as they walked home from school that day.

Sleep became a luxury he couldn't afford. Nightmares plagued him, filled with saccharine melodies and the glint of a silver hairpin, the one Takara always wore on stage. He started carrying a pepper spray, a meager defense against a threat he couldn't fully comprehend.

He tried to tell his parents about his fear, about the way he felt like he was being watched. But their response was a tired sigh and a dismissive, "It's just a crush, honey. She's probably just a big fan."

One rainy afternoon, as he walked home, a black van screeched to a halt beside him. Two men, their faces devoid of emotion, emerged. Before Y/n could react, they were upon him, strong arms muffling his screams.

He awoke in a dimly lit room, the only furniture a plush armchair and a single, flickering light bulb. Takara sat in the chair, a picture of domestic bliss, knitting a scarf with disturbingly quick movements. She looked up, her smile wider, colder than before.

"Welcome home, Y/n," she said, her voice dripping with a sickening sweetness.

Y/n's voice, rough from disuse, cracked as he spoke. "Takara… what is this?"

Takara's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her face before the chilling mask returned. "This, Y/n," she said, her voice soft, almost childlike. "This is your..no.. This is Our Future."

Her words sent a jolt of terror through him. This wasn't a twisted game anymore. This was a prison, built with twisted affection and fueled by a terrifying obsession. He had to get out, he had to survive.

He looked around the room, his eyes landing on a metal toolbox in the corner. A desperate plan began to form in his mind. "Takara," he forced a smile, his voice trembling. "T-that.. scarf looks lovely. Can I see it?"

Takara's eyes widened in surprise, the first genuine emotion he'd seen on her face since his abduction. "For you?" she stammered, her voice betraying a flicker of doubt.

Y/n nodded, his heart pounding against his ribs. It was a gamble, but it was his only chance. If he could get close enough…

The story can continue from here with Y/n attempting to overpower Takara or escape, adding more dialogue as the situation escalates. You can also explore the psychological horror of his captivity, highlighting Takara's twisted justifications for her actions and Y/n's desperate struggle for survival.

The toolbox was tantalizingly close, but Takara held the scarf out to him, her eyes sparkling with a dangerous hope. "Here," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Just for you."

Y/n inched closer, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He reached for the scarf, his hand brushing against hers. A jolt of electricity shot through him, a strange mix of fear and… something else.

"You're scared," Takara murmured, her voice a seductive sigh. Her touch lingered on his, sending shivers down his spine. "But you don't have to be. Here, with me, you'll be safe."

He looked into her eyes, the familiar glint replaced by a mesmerizing vulnerability. Maybe, just maybe, there was a sliver of humanity buried beneath the layers of obsession.

"Takara," he began, his voice hoarse. "Let me go. This isn't… this isn't love."

Her smile faltered, a flicker of pain crossing her face before being replaced by a steely resolve. "Love? Maybe not," she said, her voice losing its sweetness. "But it's all we have, Y/n. Can't you see that?"

The vulnerability was gone, replaced by a terrifying intensity. Y/n knew then that escape was his only option. He lunged for the toolbox, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

But Takara was faster. With a swift movement, she sent the toolbox clattering across the room. Her grip tightened around his wrist, her touch burning into his skin.

"Don't," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Fear choked back his words. He was trapped, a fly caught in the web she had spun. But as quickly as the fear came, a surge of defiance replaced it. He wouldn't go down without a fight.

"You're insane!" he yelled, his voice hoarse.

A tear rolled down Takara's cheek, a single glistening drop in the dim light. "Maybe," she whispered, her voice breaking. "But you're mine, Y/n. And I'll do anything… anything to keep it that way."

Before he could react, she was on him, her lips pressed against his in a searing kiss. It was a kiss filled with desperation, with a twisted sense of possession.

Y/n's body recoiled in disgust, but she held him tight, her grip like a vise. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the rain outside that drummed a mournful rhythm against the windowpane.

"Stay. Please," she pleaded, her voice a broken whisper. "Stay with me, and I'll give you everything you ever wanted. Fame, fortune… a life you could only dream of."

The world blurred, a sickening mix of fear and a strange, unsettling longing. His mind screamed at him to fight back, but his body felt powerless, paralyzed by the storm of emotions swirling within him.

As the kiss ended, he looked into Takara's tear-filled eyes, a silent question hanging in the air. He knew then that escape wasn't an option. Not anymore. His choice had been made, not by him, but by the terrifying love of a deranged idol.

Takara took his silence as acceptance, a twisted smile playing on her lips. In the flickering light of the single bulb, Y/n saw not the face of a pop star, but the face of a prisoner, trapped in a cage of her own making. He was a prisoner too, bound not by bars, but by a love as toxic and deadly as the glint of the silver hairpin she held tightly in her other hand.

#busters #takara #yandere x reader #yandere roleplay #yandere blog #yandere stories #kpop yandere #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #yandere #kpop smut

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sunnydaze4ever · 10 days

Note

this might like seem strange or not a very forward idea but can you do qiu and tamarack with a reader who has a bunch of chalk? like they go outside and just use their chalk all the time?

I decided to make headcanons out of this, lmk if you meant a Drabble!

Qiu Lin x Reader, Tamarack Baumann x reader

Them with an MC who uses lots of chalk

Fluff, Platonic/could be romantic

———————

Them seeing your chalk for the first time:

- Tamarack learned this fun fact on a Sunday afternoon

- Honestly, it’s surprising she didn’t find out earlier

- There were no plans with the boy’s club that day, no shopping to do, and not many ideas in your head

- So you went to your last resort; Chalk.

- A while back, on a boring shopping trip with your mom before even Golden Grove, you spotted a large bucket of chalk. Not only that, a cheap large bucket of chalk

- One cheap enough for your money to afford on your own! So your mom ended up letting you buy it

- Anyway, back to that sunday

- You were currently drawing some mushrooms you had seen in the forest the previous day along with other doodles

- Until Tamarack popped up

- She had been walking out to go to the forest. She was going to ask if you wanted to explore around until she peeked over your shoulder and saw your doodles

- Let me tell you, she lit up.

- “That looks so cool!” She said. You two spent the rest of the day doodling away on the sidewalk

- Qiu had found out when he had returned home from Darren’s house to find you and Tamarack huddled over a bit of the sidewalk

- Honestly, you looked like you were scheming.

- So he, of course, asked what you were doing.

- To which you and Tamarack revealed your masterpiece of pastel pink and yellow and blues.

- After a few compliments from Qiu’s end, he ended up joining in till dinner!

- Which is one of the few times you’ve seen him so far without his gloves (he didn’t want chalk on them)

———————

Now more general stuff:

- Tamarack, as she stated, thinks it's pretty cool!

- I like to think she has some chalk, but nowhere near the range of colors you do!

- And she doesn’t use them nearly as frequently

- Anyway! She likes to doodle with you sometimes

- Even more she likes to watch you cover the sidewalk all the way from her house to Qiu’s in chalk (If your determined/bored enough to do that much)

- Lets just say both of you are disappointed when it rains

- If you draw her, she’ll be super happy!

- She also likes drawing you sometimes if your both using the chalk

- If she’s drawing with you, she likes using red and yellow because it reminds her of the forest

- Qiu also thinks it’s pretty nice

- Doodle buddies? Doodle buddies.

- The only difference is yours are more colorful and on the ground while his end up on the ground

- Sometimes the two of you will draw similar things but you with chalk usually and him with his notebook

- He likes using your chalk too! But he doesn’t as much as Tamarack might.

- He’ll laugh if he sees you’ve covered the whole houses area with chalk

- If your sad about it washing away, he might suggest using a more permanent drawing tool

- He’ll compliment your drawings and if you bring them up compliment them to Baxter and Darren!

- If he’s using your chalks, he’ll mostly use the yellows and oranges

———————

#our life #our life now and forever #qiu lin #x reader #tamarack baumann #qiu lin x reader #tamarack baumann x reader #tamarack and qiu #platonic!reader #platonic #platonic x reader #olnf #olnf qiu #olnf tamarack #Olnf x reader #our life now and forever x reader

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coralinnii · 2 years

Text

crushing on a game character

feat. Ruggie, Floyd, Idia

note: established relationship, can be interpreted as gn!reader, reader can be interpreted as Yuu

Doesn’t get it. Supports your interest but seriously doesn’t get the appeal of it and how you can be so invested in it. Absolute normie.

Definitely gets a kick out of teasing you that your favourite character seems to have fluffy ears not unlike him.

“Shyeheehee, what a fun coincidence that is, cutie~”

Also doesn’t understand how much merch could go for. You spent how much to get that keychain?? Out of respect for you, he wouldn’t dare snag them, but he can’t say it’s not tempting.

He is impressed by the dedication you have in unlocking the newest stories and accomplishing the mini games for your favourite character. Also, considering his time being snatched away by looking after Leona and being the unofficial vice housewarden, he’s happy that you don’t feel as lonely or bored as he feared you would be while he’s busy.

That being said, he doesn’t appreciate it when it starts to cut into his time with you. He doesn’t mind listening to you about the newest stories or voice calls, but it’s pay-attention-to-your-boyfriend time.

Why are you gushing about the fluffy ears of some fictional man when he’s right there?

“Ahh~ his ears are just adorable” you squealed as you tapped repeatedly on the screen to watch the cute animation. You didn’t notice Ruggie’s own were flicking in irritation as he saw your eyes glued to your phone.

This is supposed to be a quiet lunch break under a shady tree by the school field without any disruptions (namely Leona) but as Ruggie munched on his last snack, you sat beside him, giving more attention to what he considers a cheap imitation of a beastman.

You felt the weight of your boyfriend shifting beside you. Before you could question it, the messy-haired upperclassman plopped his head onto your lap, smiling up at you as he made himself comfortable.

“You shouldn’t sleep right after a meal, Ruggie” you half-heartedly chastise him, but you couldn’t be mad, not with him.

“Leona had me running ragged all day, I hadn’t had the chance to rest” he lamented as he reached out for your hands, setting down your phone then bringing your hands onto his head, his ears flicking cutely. “I need your help to relax”

“Aww, my poor baby” you coo and proceed to run your hands through his hair, lovingly rubbing his soft ears which flatten and flick around in appreciation. Ruggie hummed in bliss as he started to doze off to your soft petting and sweet words of praise for your hard-working lover, your phone left forgotten at your side.

At first, Floyd wasn’t aware of your new obsession as he always found something else to distract him. You tried explaining the premise of the game that got you hooked but it lost his attention halfway and proceeded to change the conversation.

He didn’t discourage you to stop playing as it wasn’t a problem to him and watching you smile definitely lifted his mood.

It wasn’t until he started to notice that you tend to mention one particular character more than the others.

When you indulge in his doodling in class, he starts seeing that character’s name and he watches annoyed as you even draw cute versions of that character on your notebook, which he promptly rips out.

When you two started dating, his mood swings were less frequent as he’s been happier since then. He used to immediately brighten up once he sees you, even from across the hallway

Not anymore though because his mood now immediately sours when he sees you on your phone, giggling as you look like you were reading something from the game.

It wasn’t a matter of if he’ll snap but rather when.

“Floyd, seriously! Give it back!”

You stretched as far as you could against your pillar of a boyfriend, almost climbing him as he kept his hand over both your heads, your phone in his grasp.

“Woww~ Shrimpy’s pretty short, ain’t cha?” The teal-haired boy chuckled out as he reveled in your adorable face as you desperately reached for your phone.

“You’re just stupidly tall” You rebuked. “And being a jerk, by the way”

He ignored you as he stared at your phone he “borrowed” from you. Earlier he saw you and was planned to give you a loving squeeze, until he looked over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of that accursed game and even worse, that dumb character he’s reluctantly got familiar with from your doodles. Some may call this petty jealousy, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t like this lanky, grinning character grabbing all of your attention.

“Hey Shrimpy, how angry would you be if I crush your phone?”

“Very!”

He figured as much, so he decided on an alternative compromise. With his signature toothy grin, he leaned down to meet your eyes, still keeping your phone away from your reach.

“Then, give me some smooches and I’ll consider not to~”

100% in full support. Out of the whole NRC, he would probably be the most understanding of your interest because you cannot tell me he doesn’t have his own favs from gacha games.

You two can talk for hours on storylines, character designs, and animation sprites. He’ll even give you recommendations on devices with the best frame format to use for the best visual experiences. Heck, butter him up and he’ll build one for you.

If you also support his ramblings for his favs, he will truly try to pinch himself over this perfect relationship. Get you a partner that understands you.

He gets a warm, tingly feeling when you rush to him in the middle of the day with the biggest smile on your way to show off a new game scene. It feels nice knowing that he’s the first person you thought of to share your passion with.

Your fav character was not one that pops up frequently in your game so there wasn’t a lot of merch made for them. However, Idia still keeps an eye out for them just in case because he knows you’ll love it.

Again, get you a partner that understands you.

He may have to draw the line if you ask him if he’s willing to cosplay the character with you. That’s a bit out of his comfort zone.

If you’re persistent and persuasive enough though…

“Idia!!” You raised your voice by mistake from the shock of what was pushed into your hands “how on Earth did you find this?”

Idia rubbed the back of his head in what most would assume is embarrassment, but you knew him well enough he’s just hiding his self-satisfaction. He did just find a way to get his hands on a limited-edition figurine of your favourite character, along with the accessories that were difficult to find since they were sold separately.

“It was nothing, really. I know a few online buddies and they mentioned seeing it on some proxy website”

Now, usually you would reply with a smart quip for that smug attitude. But there's an undeniable warmth in your heart knowing this asocial man who wouldn’t put effort in something that would put him in an uncomfortable situation has personally asked others for something because he knew you would appreciate it.

In a swift movement, you managed to surprise your blue-flamed lover by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him to a hug and peppering kisses all over his cheeks, nose, and lastly his lips. His blue flames were flicking wildly with a pink hue colouring the tips. He stammered to let him go but you ignored his half-hearted pleas, opting to keep him in your embrace as you snuggled into his neck.

“I love you so much” you mumbled into his neck and while you couldn’t quite see his face, the darkened pink hues of his flames that tickle your cheeks gave you a hint of his feelings.

In Idia’s frazzled mind, he’s trying to calculate the affection points he must have gotten from this and now he wonders how you would reward him if he did try the cosplay idea.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #ruggie bucchi #ruggie x reader #floyd leech #floyd x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #twst fluff

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monstress · 1 year

Note

hii. if u dont mind, could u please share that "change of attitude" towards journaling? i feel like i really need that.. since i myself changed my attitude towards drawing and have been much more productive and happy doing it this last year. however Writing About Myself its another beast completely.. hope u r having a nice day! 🍃

hope you're having a lovely day as well! anyways as i was typing this up, what starts as a small tidbit has gone off the rails so i suppose this is my blanket advice as a newbie in journaling:

the materials!

choosing the titular journal aka notebook:

soft vs hard cover - i didn't realize this is SUCH a deciding factor until much later. most people prefer soft covers since journals can get massive with use but it's very subjective. be tactile - if it just don't feel right in ur hands, it's not gonna be something u reach out for when u have free time.

size - the most common sizes are A5, A6 or regular aka travelers notebook. you have to think abt who you are as a writer. do u have a large handwriting that takes up pages and pages? do you like space or are you overwhelmed by a blank page? do you travel a lot and do u want something unobtrusive in your bag? choose something that will reasonable work as a part of your daily life.

paper texture - paper that is smooth to write in are a great source of pleasure. notebooks with 100gsm paper is a good benchmark.

price - pleaseeee do not break the bank to purchase a fancy notebook. an expensive notebook can become an unloved one. you'd be too stressed to ensure every entry is perfect and pretty enough and the notebook eventually becomes too intimidating for you to fill in. check out your local hypermarket or online stores for quality notebooks. moleskins are overrated--in my country, they are v v expensive so don't feel pressure to buy a certain stationary just bc you see them often on ig/tiktok like my journal cost me approximately RM10 (USD2.34) and my new one w 100gsm paper cost me RM17 (USD4) like affordable options are out there!

build a connection with your notebook - listen...this sounds strange but having an attachment with your journal and making it inviting as possible is a great source of motivation. personalize it: add stickers, doodle or paint the cover. get a fabric/pvc cover to keep it clean if you'd like (you can add lil papers/stickers on ur actual notebook cover before putting on the pvc cover! very cute and easy)

and your pens:

again: less is more! use any relatively cheap pens you like - be it for the ink or smoothness. if you want to journal a lot, expect to lose a few pens during traveling or just around the house lmao

for fans of darker inks like me, i use Uni-ball Signo Broad, M&G R3 retractable gel pen and my favorite: Faber Castell RX Gel Pen 0.38mm - which cost like RM1.49 (i dont wanna convert - it's change money in america)

final note: i don't use fountain pens so i'm afraid i'm not well-versed enough to advise in that department but i deeply respect (and a little in awe) of journallers who use them 🫡

the tenet!

purpose: what do u plan to use the notebook for? daily journal? art journal? planner? all three? it's your life! live deliciously! since i have a 9-5 job, i know i can't keep up with more than one journal so i've been using mines as a diary and i dump my daily activities/thoughts/reviews of all kinds of media i'm currently obsessed with and it fills up quick!

don't be too hard on yourself: if you missed a day or two of journalling, it's fine - take it back up. write down anything memorable you'd like in the past few days. if you come across a certain blank page your brain is blanking to fill, perhaps after a previous dark entry, skip the page. skip two pages if needed. don't be scared of blank pages. if it needs to be blank, let it be.

it doesn't have to only be words! add stickers, dried flowers, receipts, ticket stubs, other ephemera you collected in the day. be artful! go crazy on page decoration!!

if there's anything you take away from this post, it's this: if you truly want a journal that is used up quickly, do not have plans to share it on social media. personally, i find once you are in the mindset of sharing your journal for an audience's consumption, you get worried whether it's "aesthetic" enough or is it too boring or too ugly or too dark or that you don't upload regularly enough. social media can be inhibiting your creativity or motivation to journal like let your animal brain ruminate in private! stay free from the shackles of responsibility!

#answered #poseida #journals #journaling tips #also in return i need to know what u did to change your attitude with drawing! i need to get back on that horse!

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slisopod · 4 months

Text

Well i have wifi again and its still christmas here at time of posting so heres that stuilly fanfic that i promised

NSFW WARNING!!!

"So, how are we taking out Sidney again?"

The words snapped Billy back to reality. They were supposed to be planning their murder spree, but all Billy could think about was the short-haired boy sitting beside him on the bed.

"Uhh, we're gonna wait until her dad's gone, you distract her over the phone and then I'll come in and finish her off...I think thats how we planned that out..." the brunette replied, sitting up and looking over at the notebook they were supposed to be writing down their plans in that Stu had decided to doodle in. The drawings looked like they were done by a child who had 5 cups of coffee, but they definetely got the job done depicting their plans.

Stu looked over at Billy. "Pretty neat, huh?" he said, pointing to a drawing of two stick figures at an altar, apparently kissing. "That's supposed to be our wedding, by the way," he moved his finger over to a drawing of the stick figures in a bed. "Thats just us fucking," he grinned. Billy sat up, smiling at him. "Sweetheart, these are our murder plans, not our everything else plans," he says, sliding his hand onto his thigh. The taller boy looked down and stayed quiet. His shorter counterpart couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"So i can finger-fuck you in the hallway and make you moan like a cheap whore during one of your parties while both of our 'girlfriends' are in attendance, but the second that we're alone and i put my hand on your thigh you're quiet?"

Silence. Then Billy pulled Stu close, the taller boy straddling him. "C'mon, baby, you know I was just teasing you," he said, kissing his cheek. "I know," he replied, seemingly having gone back to his typical state of being.

Stu wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, his fingers finding his hair. The shorter boy planted a kiss on the base of his neck; his hand had trailed down to his hip, his thumb moving back and forth against the clothed skin.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful, Stu. I don't know what the hell I did right to deserve you." The shorter boy looked at his other half with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. The taller boy looked back, smiling like an idiot. "And here I thought you were just gonna make out with me," he said, only sort-of knowing that he kinda fucked up the mood. "Well, do you want to make out?" Billy lifted his hand and cupped Stu's face. Stu simply replied with a soft peck to his boyfriend’s lips.

Billy returned the kiss, sliding his hand down to the small of Stu's back. He parted his lips and let the taller boy slip his tongue into his mouth, the contact feeling almost intoxicating to the pair. The shorter boy slid his hand down to his hips, stopping at the waistband of his pants. He pulled away for a second.

"Can I?" he queried, looking up at Stu's flushed face. "Yeah, go ahead," he replied, smiling down at what felt like the most important person in the world to him. Billy reached over to the bedside table, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube and a couple condoms. "Do we really need those things?" the taller boy asked, referring to the condoms. In his brain, since there was no risk of pregnancy, they didnt need any condoms. "Yes, dumbass, we really need these things," Billy replied. He knew better, and someone had to be the responsible person in their relationship and it was abundantly clear from the start that person wasn't going to be Stu.

"How do you want me, baby?" the shorter boy asked, already unbuttoning the shirt that his taller counterpart was wearing. "How do you think?" he replied, unzipping Billy's pants. The brunette finished unbuttoning the shirt and slid his arms through it, one hand rubbing the taller boy's skin and the other sliding down to cup his ass. "I know, still thought I'd ask just in case." He planted a kiss on the base of his boyfriend's neck and slid his other hand down to pull down Stu's pants, taking his boxers with them.

Billy almost immediately turned his attention to the taller boy's cock, enjoying how he groaned and whimpered as he rubbed his tip. He grabbed the bottle of lube with his free hand and ceased his minstrations, much to Stu's dismay. "Why'd you stop?" he whined. "Because I'm not a fucking idiot, unlike you," he retorted, squirting the lube onto his fingertips, "And last I checked I dont have a third arm." He planted a soft kiss on Stu's neck as he slid his middle finger into his tight hole.

The taller boy gasped at the cold sensation, his hands almost instinctively gripping the shorter boy's shoulders. "Why the fuck is your finger cold?!" he half-complained as he tried to grow used to the familiar sensation of having something inside of him. "Because you're a fucking brat, that's why," the brunette joked, kissing his boyfriend's lips as he started to move his finger and eventually slipped his index finger inside. "Pull my boxers down and grab a condom," he requested, smiling to himself as Stu did exactly that. "Good boy," he cooed as he unwrapped and slid the condom down onto his throbbing length, envisioning himself doing that same thing to the boy currently moaning like a cheap slut in his lap. He lubed up his cock and slid his fingers out, positioning himself against Stu's hole and slowly sliding in.

Billy gently stroked Stu's hair as he adjusted to his boyfriend's ample size, the taller boy whining softly into his shoulder. "Fuck, baby, you feel fucking amazing," the brunette said as he started to roll his hips against his boyfriend's ass. Billy silently thanked whatever higher deity was out there that they were by themselves because god forbid anyone hear the almost pornographic noises that the both of them were making as the shorter boy sped his pace up. Between the way Stu's walls felt wrapped around his cock and the pleas for him not to stop coming from the taller boy's mouth, he couldve sworn he had died and gone to heaven. If not for the blood curdling screech emanating from the doorway to Stu's bedroom. Of course she had to be here.

"Stu! What the fuck are you doing?!" Casey exclaimed, shocked and disgusted by the sight before her. Billy looked up at her, his breathing steady. "Get out," he said curtly, still buried to the hilt inside of Stu's ass.

"You fucking-" she started, trying to gain some power over the situation.

"Get out"

"I'm gonna-"

"Get the fuck out or I'll gut you like a fish."

Disgusted, Casey left, slamming the door on her way out. Billy kissed Stu hard, wrapping his arms around his waist and thrusting upwards roughly, using him like a fleshlight until the both of them came. Billy pulled the taller boy off of him, kissing his forehead as he disposed of the condom. He lay next to him on the bed, holding him close. "Well, sweetheart, our plans for Sidney are going to have to wait. That bitch has got to go."

Sorry for the shitty writing, im kinda rusty and suck at writing smut.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night

#billy loomis x stu matcher #stuilly #billy x stu #scream #scream 1996 #Stuilly smut #merry crisis

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mac-a08 · 17 hours

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My sister brought me a proper sketch book the other day q(❂‿❂)p

I used to Doodle on my homework notebook(back in my old days) because it's more cheap and thick but having to draw on this paper is kinda nice too.

#oc #flo #doodling

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pastel-pillows · 10 months

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Thinking about high school sweethearts Eddie and R who have been together before corroded coffin and were together when Eddie got his first guitar.

The first song he ever writes isn’t for you but the very first one he plays on his new guitar is. You can tell he put a lot of time and practice into it and he watches his hands strumming the strings more than he looks at you because he’s both too afraid to mess up and too embarrassed to see the expression on your face. The song is sweet, full of his appreciation for you and more than a fair share of cheesy comparisons and you absolutely adore it and have Eddie sing it to you all throughout your high school years, his composition and instrumental skills grow through the years and he writes more songs about you as your relationship evolves but the first one remains your favorite.

Eventually Corroded Coffin makes it big, bigger than Eddie could have ever dreamed of and you are with him every step of the way, every gig in a cheap dive bar that smelled like stale cigarettes and old food to every sold out venue with his face plastered on shirts and posters, you go with to photo shoots and interviews even if you aren’t actually taking part in them to support him. It’s a whirlwind and everything Eddie and the others dreamed of and the glow he gets after each performance as he’s rushing to wrap you up in his arms and ask you what you thought is everything you could ever want and you mean that, this life with Eddie is exactly the one you have had on your dream boards since you were fifteen.

“I’ve got a special something for everyone here tonight.” You shouldn’t be surprised that Eddie, even after decades of being together, would still have some tricks up his sleeve for you and yet you were still left baffled as Jeff and Gareth ushered you onto the stage where Eddie sat with that same black and red guitar that you’d gotten together all those years ago with a smile that had begun to etch a permanent home into the creases of his eyes and a hand extended to you inviting you to get closer.

“Today I’d like to sing for you;” though the words were spoken through the microphone and to the audience his gaze stayed on you, mapping the dips and crevices of your face in a way he’d been doing for so long but had been afraid to do the day he first sang this song to you. “The song that started my career as a performer.”

There are days when you miss when things were simpler, just you and Eddie curled up on his bed during the weekend instead of studying, playing with his hair as he hummed the song he wrote for you and doodled in the notebook that should’ve been filled with history notes but those times are never far away, and while a few things have changed, you both have a few gray hairs and you aren’t at Wayne’s anymore avoiding history homework, it still manages to hold the same magic as it did then, a bubble so molasses thick enveloping you both as he hums those first few notes of his sappy teenage love confession to you that you’re back in the eighties and the crowd outside is reduced to the dull background noise of the fan he’d had in the corner of his room then.

I wrote this at 4 am so be lenient. I just really enjoyed the thought of Eddie always being so unapologetically himself, and unapologetically in love with you, that even as a big famous rock star he’d still sing a poorly written love song from when he was 15 to a packed stadium just because he remembered the way it made you smile.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #don’t perceive me

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eddieunbanished · 1 year

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Eddie always wanted out of Hawkins.

Chicago is cold in the winter. It has the unpredictability of Indiana but the severity of the tundra. The Windy City winds whip his hair and cut his cheeks- just walking down the street to the coffee shop he frequents makes his nose go numb, no matter how far he pulls his scarf up or how tight he has his leather jacket zipped up with two flannels buttoned up under it for insulation.

(He didn’t have the money for a winter coat before moving and he sure as hell doesn’t have the money *now*)

The coffee shop is warm, a quiet hum of people who braved the December winds for a good cup of Joe and a comfy worn out leather chair to sink into. He stands in line and thinks that Gareth would like it here- he loves quiet places. That Robin would love the music they play and the quirky mismatched mugs they serve coffee in. That Steve would hate their coffee because he hates coffee but would love their hot cocoa.

They’re all about 200 miles away- some even more than that, now. He looks at the group of girls studying and giggling, the couple by the window, the other couple at the center tables.

He’s only ever been here alone.

Eddie sinks into his own chair in the back, letting his hot coffee cup bring the feeling back into his fingers- only then does he unwind his scarf and unzip his jacket.

He spends the day like he does every Saturday- scribbling in his little notebook of lyrics- trying to come up with words but mostly just doodling little dragons that look more like geckos. For the first half hour or so he can feel the little glow of mild accomplishment in his chest- he did *something.* Got out of bed, got dressed, went down the street. Now he’s really working on what he loves- his music.

He gives it two hours of nothing, nothing, nothing- not even stupid little gecko-dragons, each doodle ending up a scribble- before he throws it in and heads back down the street to his shoe box apartment, scarf and jacket back on.

He doesn’t leave the apartment the rest of the day. He makes cheap ham and cheese sandwiches and thinks about how Saturday used to be band practice day- how he’d drive to Jeff’s parents’ house and they’d play in the garage until the neighbors complained. Then they’d go to the Quarry and drink, playing rock, paper, scissors to see who’d be the designated driver. Gareth lost more often than not- dumbass had a penchant for choosing scissors and didn’t realize it.

He washes the sandwiches down with one- or two- too many beers.

Sunday is laying around, the TV on but nothing to watch. He could be going out and exploring the city, frequenting all the bars in all the scenes that didn’t exist in Hawkins.

He never changes out of his flannel PJs.

He stares at the junky rotary phone he got from a thrift shop- sitting on the floor of his living room because he didn’t have money for a side table. Couch, bed, little kitchen table and chair. That was about it.

He stares at that little phone from the couch, his face squished against the cushions as he lies stomach-down.

He bought it two months ago, with the rest of his furniture. He hasn’t used it once.

He keeps telling himself- when he’s settled. When he’s done something worth talking about. When, when, when. Thats’s when he’ll use it.

Or maybe never. He struggles to find a point. It’s been long enough to realize no one really needs him. He thinks about every face pulled his way, every awkward silence, every time he was too much and pretended nothing could touch him.

He buries his face back in the cushion. He can feel every single moment wash over him like a blanket- none totally clear but every one adding to the heavy fog weighing him down.

Sighs. Goes back to sleep at 3 PM.

He wakes up heavier, grimier, mouth tasting like dirt.

The clock on the floor next to his unused rotary phone reads 8:53PM in big angry red numbers.

He has work in eleven hours. Has to be awake in ten. Maybe nine if he wants to eat something before leaving.

He forces himself to go back to sleep because, really, he can’t think of anything else worth doing.

The clock reads 11:22 PM when he opens his eyes again.

He only tells himself the truth late at night.

That he made a mistake. That he’s been in his apartment for just over two months, in Chicago for three and he thought leaving Hawkins was the answer to everything but really Eddie still has almost all of his old problems- only this time he has them alone.

He called a few times from pay phones, in his early weeks. When he was sleeping in his van and just barely landed a job busting tables and had dug up enough spare quarters.

Gareth didn’t pick up. Eddie tried his house twice and slammed the phone down when he got nothing the second time.

Wayne was glad to hear from him, make sure he was alive. And Eddie missed him but Wayne wasn’t one for conversation. He was more of a daily comfort- it was hard to feel him from so far away, when Eddie couldn’t sit with him in silence watching Jeopardy or eating mac n cheese. They talked for about three minutes before Wayne went silent, nothing much to say.

Robin’s mom answered and said she finally left for study abroad- Eddie cursed because he totally forgot, had no number to leave her mom to pass on.

Jeff answered and Gareth was at his house with him- which was a weird pit-in-the stomach feeling for Eddie, but he wouldn’t admit it. They started their mom-and-dad style bickering, laughing about something he wasn’t in the room for when the pit got a little too heavy and Eddie made an excuse to hang up early.

Dustin picked up and then immediately had to hang up on him because Susie was calling.

He pocketed the rest of his quarters and didn’t try again.

He reads from 12AM to 1AM but he doesn’t really read- he skims and skips and goes back because he doesn’t understand what just happened about ten times before he admits that he isn’t paying attention.

The phone is bright red, which seemed better than the faded mint green or bright orange in the shop at the time but Eddie hates how he feels like he can always see that stupid bright red old-ass rotary phone on the floor. It’s always in the corner of his eye, in his peripheral vision, like a god damn ghost.

He doesn’t go back to sleep before he goes in to work.

The next weekend he goes out. He takes the van down to a bar that plays his kind of music and has his kind of people- he doesn’t wear the handkerchief he was so bold to wear in Hawkins, not where people could actually expect things from him. He only ever wore it in Hawkins because it was like playing chicken with the bigots, not because he really knew the ins and outs of its meaning. How close could he come before they clocked him? Would it be the handkerchief that got him done in or did he have to fully sequin his fucking battle vest?

He leaves it in the van and nurses a rum and coke while guys in leather and cropped Judas Priest shirts press up against each other.

At the Hideout he was loud- laughed big, noogied Jeff and played his guitar without any concern for the ear drums of the four drunk guys in the corner who only put up with their dumb band because the Hideout had the cheapest whiskey in town. Eddie then had dreamed of places like this.

Eddie now just has a headache.

(And a heart ache.)

No one approaches Eddie and when someone finally does- a young guy with a goatee and hair longer than his- Eddie smiles nervously and says “sorry, I’m on my way out.” The guy just nods as he goes.

In the van he slumps against the wheel. Thinks about how he could have a warm body pressed against his right now- about how that guy wasn’t what he wanted but maybe he’d do for now and then feels desperate and pathetic and kind of like a prick for thinking it.

He thinks about a battle vest stained with blood on someone who had never worn one before.

He thinks about the girl that someone wanted.

He drives home.

The stupid god damn fucking red phone is there, loud as ever from its silent place on the floor.

Eddie always wanted to leave Hawkins. He always, only ever wanted to leave Hawkins and now Hawkins was following him everywhere, taunting him with the fact that there wouldn’t be anyone on the other end of the phone to pick the fuck up.

Who would want to?

That’s not true, the littlest bit of his brain argues. Wayne is probably worried sick.

Yeah, some fucking nephew (son) he is. Disappearing and calling, like, once. Wayne probably thought he was dead. Wayne probably was worried sick. Wayne probably was the last person to care and every day he didn’t call made it more difficult to try because what a fucking failure. Maybe it would have been better if he’d died in that hospital, or in the upside down, or in his trailer with his eyes being crushed and his limbs snapped instead of Chrissy fucking Cunningham who deserved to be the one alive.

The phone rings.

It rings and Eddie jumps out of his skin because how the fuck is that possible?

He stares it down, watching the plastic vibrate with the force of it.

Ring, riiiing.

He’s never heard the ring before. It’s loud, harsh.

Ring, riiiing. Ring, riiiiing.

It goes on forever, and then stops.

Probably a crank call-

Ring, riiiiing.

Fuck. Eddie sniffles once, ignoring that he was on the verge of more than sniffling, more than red eyes.

(He hates crying. Does it too much.)

Ring , riiiiiiiing.

“Alright, aright, Jesus H. Christ,” he mumbles and for the first time Eddie picks up the phone.

“…hello?”

“Eddie? Eddie is that you?”

Eddie’s chest collapses. His heart gives out. Or maybe his lungs stop. All of it at once.

“S-“ he chokes on air. “Steve?”

“I- yeah. Oh my god I can’t believe this worked! I was visiting Wayne and asked about you and he mentioned that restaurant you’re working at so I called them and they gave me your number! Well, I had to call a couple times cause it’s not technically legal to give out employee info- but that one manager really doesn’t seem to care, so.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a long time. And when Steve calls his name again, wonders aloud if the connection is okay, he croaks out, “I’m. I’m here.”

“Oh good-“ Steve laughs, a little nervously. It’s short, clipped, but good natured. He talks- asks Eddie about his job and his apartment and when Eddie is too tired to pretend he’s anything other than exhausted, at his ropes’ end, not there enough to be *Eddie*- Steve doesn’t question it. He gives an easy “hey, thats’s cool man” and fills the silence.

He tells Eddie all about Robin- practically forces him to take down her new number. Updates him on an new mug Wayne bought, he saw him opening it when he got the info on Eddie last. How Dustin’s building some thing for a teen genius competition and Will’s running a game for Hellfire that Steve has caught the end of a few times when he goes to pick the kids up (he mixes up technical phrases and Eddie laughs when he calls Dungeon Masters “Story Telling Guys”).

“I was thinking,” Steve says. “And I mean you can say no-“ as if Eddie would ever say no to him. “I was wondering if it’s okay to visit? I’m going to be up your way next month for a thing, so.. I could stop by. See the new pad.”

The new *pad.* Dork.

“You know, I’m really glad I called. We’ve all been going crazy without you here to drive us crazy,” Steve laughs at his own non-joke. Eddie knows Steve can’t see him repressing a goofy smile but he does it all the same. Stupid joke. Not funny.

(But he gives up and smiles anyway.)

“I’m glad, too,” Eddie says.

It’s just past eleven when Eddie picks up the phone and just past three when he puts it back on the receiver.

With a plan for Steve to come visit for New Years- with some of the kids if the parents give their nod and Steve doesn’t kill then on the ride up- and a promise to call the very next day.

Eddie pulls the phone away from the wall and as close to the couch as the chord will stretch. He thinks about tomorrow and the call and New Years. He falls asleep and dreams of kind boys in battle vests and Hawkins coming right back to him.

#it’s 3:30 am and I was depressed alllllll day so this is what you GET lol #I don’t know how to feel about this one I have thoughts and kinda don’t like it but I don’t wanna like.. edit it LOL #but I just think if Eddie did leave he’d be lonely without his friends but too stupid to tell anyone he’s lonely #and the spiral is realllll #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson fic #st fic #mine #stranger things fic #tw: thoughts of death

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