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#i still remember so many facts i learned from them

obae-me · 2 days

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I saw your post about the characters with a traumatized MC and the part about the angels made me start thinking about how they'd handle an MC who has religious trauma (because I thought that was where it was going in your post)

MC avoiding Simeon and Luke because everything related to heaven creeps them out (they're legit scared of angels, god, etc) and feeling way too comfortable living in the devildom and being around demons because they "always knew they were going to end up in hell when they died" because that's what was hammered into their head growing up or something

that would sure change the cast's views on human religion huh?

Yes, absolutely. I can't remember if I mentioned it before or just kept that brainworm tucked safely inside my skull, but I think about this a lot. Namely, because I have SO much religious trauma (yippie!).

I've thought a lot about how the Celestial Realm harbors a lot of the same toxicity that certain organized religions have the tendancy to exhibit here on good ol earth. I mean, we've seen some things in game that suggest that things aren't all rainbows and roses up there. The way that Luke talks early game suggests a lot. And so I'm sure a religiously traumatized MC would have SUCH a hard time around the angels at first. (I actually had my own reservations with the angels when they were first introduced and I even kind of disliked Luke a ton before I eventually took a step back and thought about the fact that he's just a BABY who is just spitting out ideals that were shoved into his head. It's not his fault, and I think his character development is something that the fandom does not address enough. I'm so proud of him!! Having your expectations of the world be broken and then having to relearn everything you thought you knew is actually SO hard.)

MC getting along well or feeling more comfortable with demons because they don't feel like they're being judged or under the watchful eyes of others.

MC talking about "not being as afraid to come back" VERY early on in game and the other characters taking WAY too long to realize they mean come to purgatory after they pass, and the demons themselves don't feel good about knowing that.

MC avoiding certain sins/pleasures/temptations due to the fear that's been embedded in them over it. Even if those things are COMPLETELY normal and harmless to enjoy.

All of the characters being extremely patient and understanding about this sort of thing and very slowly chipping away at certain stigmas they still hold onto, making the human feel safe while they do.

MC avoiding Simeon because of mixed feelings of shame and maybe a bit of resentment and then eventually learning that he's actually such a down to earth and sweet guy and spending more time with him just to learn that he's been in many similar situations is so...so good to think about. Learning that he'll never force certain ideologies onto them, that he doesn't see them as someone who needs to be "saved". A human and an angel sitting together and discussing what being "good" really means. Sharing confessions to each other that they've both held on their backs for such a long time because they've been too ashamed of themselves and confused to heal from it alone. They're not a sinner and a Saint, they're just normal people who make mistakes and want to do good in the world.

I do have many thoughts on this clearly...

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #asks #anon

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nightwolf14292 · 1 day

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Jason Todd Canon Lore Stuff:

@jashjdh Ask and you shall receive! :D this is sort of part 2 to this post of mine, where I did the same thing for Dick Grayson. Here, since there are so many comics and so much conflicting lore, I read the fandom . com entry for the character and then type out the most important bits of what I learned, both to help myself remember it, and to teach others ^w^

!TW for Batman-like things, such as spoilers, mentions of injury and death, a brief mentions of drug use, a brief mention of sewerslide and r(😬)e, etc)!

•To begin with, a lot of people argue "Jason is the angry Robin!" Or, "Jason ISN'T the angry Robin!" I think for the most part, this misunderstanding happens because originally, Jason was a very calm kid. In his original appearances he had a similar backstory to Dick Grayson(Being an acrobat in the circus) and was much more chill, however in the post-crisis revamp, he became more violent and troubled. In the words of the wiki, "the post-Crisis Jason is impulsive, reckless, and full of rage."

•Jason lived a troubled childhood, with his father being a petty crook. His dad at one point served a jail sentence for his crimes, but even once he got out of jail, he never came back to the family. This left Jason alone, taking care of his drug-addicted mother. He would rip and remove the parts from cars around the city, selling them for cash to make sure they were fed and clothed. His mother eventually died from an overdose so he took to the streets, continuing to take apart cars for cash.

•One night he came upon the Batmobile parked in an alleyway. Batman had just replaced the tires, but had not yet put on his new custom hubcaps. Jason took this opportunity to snag the tires, and managed to get one and out of there before he came back for a second tire. This is when Batman caught him, hence the iconic interaction of him throwing his tire iron at Bruce and calling him a 'big boob' as he ran away.

•Batman tried putting Jason in a boarding school for troubled kids, however this didn't work out either because the owner of the school was actually running a program to train young criminals. When Batman busted the criminal operation, he decided that perhaps Jason's anger could be used for crime fighting, so he took him in because he was worried that if he didn't, Jason would become a criminal. While Jason wasn't an acrobat like Dick, he was strong, and had lots of skills from his time on the streets.

•On their first official mission together, though, it was revealed that Two-Face had killed Jason's father. Despite the fact that Jason's father had abandoned him, he was still enraged by this and he went on a rampage. However, he showed restraint when he allowed Two-Face to be arrested instead of killing him, which made Bruce very proud.

•As much as Jason was a good, enthusiastic student, he was also a very troubled one. His time on the streets had raised him with a tilted sense of morals, and with the tendency to lash out and get violent when threatened because of his street survival instincts. Because of this, Jason often had the opposite ideals and morals to his mentor. He tended to use excessive force when trying to stop criminals, such as how in one adventure he was asked to 'hold off' some villains, and he immediately shot at them despite Bruce's dislike of using guns.

•The most notable of these times was on the case of Felipe Garzonasa, a man who had r(😬)ed a woman, an event that led to her sewerslide. Jason tracked this guy down, and moments after Jason arrived, Felipe fell to his death off of his apartment balcony. While it was never confirmed nor denied, it's fairly possible that Jason pushed Garzonasa off, breaking Batman's no kill rule. (We love a man who respects women ✊)

•Bruce was so afraid that Jason was going to possibly kill someone, either intentionally or with his reckless actions, that he called Barbara Gordon and asked her to work a case with Jason, in an attempt to figure him out. They did work together, however Barbara could come up with no real way to help him, and simply warned Bruce that there was 'a darkness in Jason'.

•Jason eventually discovers that his mother was not actually his biological mother, so he runs away from home on a mission to find his real mom. He follows lots of leads, but eventually ends up in Ethiopia, finding his bio mother Sheila, working as an aid worker. He's incredibly happy to be reunited with his real mom, but he soon discovers that Sheila is being blackmailed by the Joker, being forced to supply him with medical treatment. Sheila herself has been embezzling funds from the agency, and to keep from getting caught, she directly hands Jason over to the Joker who brutally beats him with a crowbar and leaves him and Sheila in a warehouse with a bomb. Batman is unable to save them on time, and both of them perish in the explosion. Bruce is obviously devastated (and starts going crazy because of this a bit later on), and the bodies are both buried in Gotham City with the cause of death on Jason's death certificate being labeled 'smoke inhalation'.

•Jason is dead for at least a decade, his memory constantly haunting Bruce as his 'greatest failure', keeping Jason's Robin suit on display in the Batcave. Bruce begins to spiral over the thoughts that he himself had failed to train Jason properly, and that he had also failed to save Jason from the Joker. (Personal opinion, I don't know if I actually blame Bruce for 'Not saving Jason in time'? Because the way the wiki framed it, it made it seem like Jason ran away and didn't tell anyone that he was going to do this, plus I don't know how Bruce would've known that the Joker was blackmailing Sheila to begin with? Idk, maybe I'm missing some context here)

•Many years later, while Bruce is fighting with Hush, Tim gets kidnapped. When he confront the kidnapped it ends up being 'Jason', but it turns out that this version of Jason isn't Jason at all, and is just Clayface pretending to be Jason.

•Superboy-Prime, trapped in the Paradise Dimension, alters reality. This shift results in Jason's revival, as he's once again given life. He breaks his way out of his own coffin with his bare hands, and drags himself 12 miles before eventually collapsing (since he still has many lasting injuries from the Joker's beating). He's found at some point and hospitalized, where he stays in a coma for a full year, and even when he awakens he has amnesia. At some point he's recognized by a petty criminal, who informs Talia. Talia brings him to the Lazarus Pit, where she immerses him in the water where her father Ra's is also bathing. This restores Jason's memories and his physical health, however it's implied that the Pit's energy + Ah-Gul's energy messed with his mind and personality (Though it's always possible that these changes really just came from his trauma)

•Jason Todd takes up the mantle of Red Hood, and returns to Gotham City.

•Jason goes to find the Joker (who had been run out of town by Hush), and gives him a beating with a crowbar just as the Joker did to him, though he keeps the Joker alive to use him against Batman later on. He also assumes the control of several gangs, and starts a mini war against the Black Mask criminal empire. His general plan is to clean up the cities violence and drug dealings(probably because he doesn't want anyone to end up like his non-bio mother), as well as kill the Joker for revenge. Because of his intense and violent methods, he has many brushes with Batman. It's around this time that Bruce finds a Robin mask in the Batmobile, one that never belonged to Dick or Tim, but looked like a mask in the style of Jason's old Robin costume. He also realized at this time that Jason's coffin is empty, and that's when he starts to believe that Jason may have genuinely come back from the dead.

•Jason, hearing that Tim had replaced him and was supposedly a 'better Robin' then him, he got angry and broke into the Titan tower to confront him. Wearing a newer version of his own Robin costume, Jason makes quick work of immobilizing the other Titans. He was absolutely furious that there was no memorial for him in the Hall of Fallen Titans (Despite the fact that he was only a Titan for a very short time), Jason demands Tim tell him if he was really as good of a Robin as Jason himself was, and Tim stubbornly says 'Yes' before he passes out. As Jason is leaving the tower, he rips the 'R' logo from Tim's costume. However, it's revealed in the epilogue of that comic that Jason actually holds some respect for Tim now, begrudgingly saying an "I'll admit. He's good." As he ponders how he could've been a better Robin had he acted more like Tim.

•At some point Jason kidnaps the Joker and uses him to lure Bruce to Crime Alley, where they had first met all those years ago. Jason is of course angry that Bruce never 'properly avenged' him by killing the Joker, since Jason believed that Bruce would because the Joker had "Taken me away from you". Bruce explains that it would've been easy for him to kill the Joker, that he continuously fantasized about taking the Joker away, torturing him and eventually killing him, but that he wasn't willing to cross that line (Partially because he wasn't willing to stain the memories he had of Jason [that he clung so tightly to while losing his sanity] with blood). Jason decides on a deal. Either Bruce kills him, or he will kill the Joker. So he holds one gun to the Joker's head and gives the other to Bruce, counting to three. However Bruce, obviously not wanting to kill Jason but also not wanting Jason to commit this crime, uses a Batarang to cut down an object that ends up slicing Jason's throat. The Joker uses this time to detonate some explosives and plunge both of them into the waters. (I don't even know what to say about this part, I have a lot of opinions here. I will say though, I think that if Tim hadn't become Robin, Bruce might've legitimately killed the Joker.)

•Jason shows up again after about a year, now as an evil version of Nightwing. Jason uses this costume to taunt Dick, suggesting the two become a crime fighting team, but Dick refuses because he doesn't want to be associated with Jason's violent methods. Not long after, Jason is kidnapped by unknown mobsters. Dick, albeit hesitantly, saves him, and they team up to defeat the Pierce brothers. After the fight Jason leaves New York and drops the Nightwing mantle, leaving Dick a telegraph that says he has returned to normal, and that he still considers Dick family.

•Jason's kidnaps a girl named Mia, wanting to convert her to his side since they both had somewhat similar pasts and he feels they're kindred spirits. She refuses, so he blows up her high school. (WTF JASON???? 😭)

•I dunno how to explain this one too much, but basically he went on a mission with a Monitor that he called Bob? And he met an alternate reality version of Batman, who had started killing after Jason's death.. And then the Darkseid thing happens and Batman 'dies', which makes Jason absolutely furious (Because he cares about Bruce despite not agreeing with the way that he handled things back when he died).

•Jason, back as Red Hood, tries to take control of some gang wars to calm things down, but it actually makes things worse. Since Batman is supposed to be dead, and Nightwing is unavailable, Tim is the one who has to help clean up the mess. Jason asks to team up, but Tim refuses because of Jason's questionable methods. Due to a combination of some things, Jason gets shot in the leg and arrested. When the gang war is resolved, Tim stops by the prison Jason was in, using a disguise and a fake name to deliver Jason the code that will let him out of his cell because he believes Jason deserves a chance at redemption.

•After his escape Jason is summoned to the Batcave, where he is brought in to hear his part of Bruce's Last Will and Testament for him(Y'know, since Bruce is supposedly dead lmao). He listens to Bruce's final piece as he talks about out of all his failures, Jason was his biggest, and how he regretted not getting Jason actual help or showing much empathy over him hardships, instead dressing him up and having him fight. Unfortunately this heartfelt message is what makes Jason fully snap.

•Jason began dressing up in a Batman-like outfit, leaving slips of paper saying 'I AM BATMAN' where he worked, however he used much more aggressive and lethal forms of punishment on the criminals he fought. Due to the violent nature of his vigilantism, Nightwing and Damian are after the fake Batman. Dick figures put pretty quickly that the imposter Batman is Jason, and after an argument, Jason shoots Damian. Tim is also searching for the fake Batman at this time, dressing up as Batman as well to demonstrate how Bruce would've really acted. Tim finds Jason's fake Batcave, but has to be saved from a boobytrap by Catwoman. Jason returns to his 'cave' and finds them there, impaling Tim with a Batarang. Dick and Jason fight, with Jason thinking and claiming that Tim is dead, while Damian and the Squire are actually busy saving Tim. Dick kicks Jason off a moving train, but when he tries to pull Jason back up to safety(Because he still considers him family, just as Jason does him), Jason refuses his help and falls to his 'death', while claiming they'll meet again soon. This is when Dick becomes Batman.

•When Jason returned, having survived the fall, he decided to become direct competition to Batman and Robin, making it his mission to get to all of the criminals before them and become the new Gotham Hero. He even got his own sidekick, a girl named Scarlet. Jason was very public about this, posting things on social media, talking about how killing the villains was the best way to do it, and a lot of people actually agreed. At one point Jason kidnapped Dick and Damian, locked them up and stripped them both naked(😰), claiming online that if the post got enough attention, he'd reveal Batman and Robin's secret identities. However his plan was interrupted by an assassin names Flamingo, that he and Scarlet weren't strong enough to beat. Dick and Damian escaped and saved them from death, though Damian got pretty seriously injured.. Jason just ran Flamingo over with a truck- Jason was taken into police custody and as they took him away, he claimed that if the Lazarus Pit could revive him, why couldn't it revive Bruce too?

•After Bruce's revival, Jason files an appeal to Arkham Asylum, wanting to be released because the tests show that he's perfectly sane, just willing to kill. He ends up being transferred to a Gotham prison, where as soon as he arrives, the sewerslide rates spike and there are several homicides(Though these mainly occurred in self defense from Red Hood killing people in the prison who attempt to kill him first). On top of this, Jason poisons the food and kills 82 inmates, making 100 more sick. He's immediately taken back to Arkham Asylum, but is quickly broken out by some mercenaries. Jason breaks free from the mercenaries and fights them off as Batman and Robin arrive. At the end of this mission, Red Hood and Scarlet escape in a helicopter, warning Bruce and Damian not to chase them because he planted bombs all over the city months ago, and he's willing to detonate them. Dick doesn't do anything about, deciding that Jason was lying about the bombs, and that even if Jason decides to do better he'll only rejoin the family when he's ready to.

•Jason, trying to reform, forms his own hero team called the Outlaws. He changes the red symbol on his chest to a bat, a sign of his somewhat awkward but slowly-beginning-to get-back-on even-ground relationship with the Batfamily. The costume he now wears also used to belong to Dick. His relationship with Tim is now at least neutral, if not a little friendly, as the two can be seen eating together and making some jokes. However his relationship with Bruce is still strained, and a bit hostile. While he keeps his aggressive and lethal style of fighting, he now only uses it when he believes necessary, and doesn't always shoot the second he sees a problem.

•At some point his team disappears, and he goes back to being a solo hero.

Extra Fun Fact! Because of the Lazarus Pit, Jason no longer ages and he heals much much faster then a normal human!

TAADAA! I might do more if I get the motivation ^w^

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yarnings · 3 days

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The other day I got on the bus to come home from the mall/edge of the city transit terminal, and there were a couple of Plain Mennonite ladies, obviously in from one of the routes through the townships, taking the bus to an appointment of some kind. They weren't quite sure about which bus they were taking (since they obviously hadn't used a website to find their route), and because their destination was very close to mine (and in my usual stomping grounds) I helped make sure they knew where to get off the bus and where to go once they were there.

But it got me to thinking - I grew up without bus schedules, because the TTC didn't really put them out for the routes by my house. * But once I moved (and once the undergrad bus pass came in) I got used to carrying a collection of bus schedules in my purse. (Basically every bus that I took on a semi-regular basis I carried a schedule for. The schedules listed all the stop numbers, so I could call for the real-time departure info and plan accordingly).

But buses no longer have the schedule (including the route map) in a little box at the front of the bus. There isn't even a main bus terminal anymore, but while the rack of bus schedules was still there the last time I visited, I don't think it was stocked. The new customer service centre definitely doesn't have that rack. My kids have the relevant bus schedules downloaded onto their smartphones. (At this point it happens on a trip-by-trip basis, as we plan the route that they'll take out and back). You can still get paper schedules, if you go to city hall. Given that this is also where public health is located, and where the in-person offices for Ontario Works (welfare) are located, it would be one of the last places to lose the paper schedules.

But city hall was also one of the last places in the downtown core to have a buggy shed. (It's not there anymore. And by the time I saw it, 10 years ago, I really doubt it was still being used. I have seen... approximately one buggy in the urban centre in the time I've been here). While the schedules are presumably still where they are because marginalized people need access to them, how much of the fact that they exist for my transit system is because we have many more horse-and-buggy folks using it than the average system does.

This is a long way around to say that I think that post that suggests you need to learn non-computer ways to do a bunch of things isn't wrong. However remember that a lot of those things used to be a lot easier to do, and aren't necessarily worth the investment of your time. Navigating your bus system is one of them. Does your system even still have paper maps? (Now, I would argue that learning to plan your route using the pdf maps, whether of the individual routes or the system, is worth doing. But the way to learn to navigate the system without those is to ride it a lot. While that's a useful skill, please don't try to magically jump to it, given that you don't have the tools we used to use.)

*Technically they did, but they just gave frequencies, not times, even on Sundays when the bus only came every 10 minutes.

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byoldervine · 17 days

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Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)

1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out

Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on

2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page

RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable

3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it

Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them

4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt

Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else

5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference

Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on

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dreamcubed · 8 months

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i think he knows | theodore nott x reader

song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

masterlist

"wanna see what's under that attitude."

—————————————

Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.

The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.

"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.

"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.

"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"

You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."

"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."

You sighed, unable to argue.

"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."

That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.

"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.

"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."

You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."

"It's not that hard."

"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."

"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."

"Whatever you say."

Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.

***

It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.

Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.

Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.

"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.

You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.

You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."

His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.

Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.

Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?

***

The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.

Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.

It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.

A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"

You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.

"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."

"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."

"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."

"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.

"I mean, maybe he likes you back."

"What?"

"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."

"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"

Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."

Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"

"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."

"Easy for you to say."

***

You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.

"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.

"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."

You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.

"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.

"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.

He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.

You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?

"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.

You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?

It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.

Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.

What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.

This might not end well.

***

You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.

"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."

You had a feeling you knew what was coming.

"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"

"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."

"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"

Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.

"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."

Your breath hitched.

You used coconut shampoo.

Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.

"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"

You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.

You felt warm underneath his gaze.

He smirked.

***

You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.

The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.

"You aren't subtle."

A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."

He shrugged, "It's cute."

Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.

"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.

"No. Just quiet."

You clutched your books close to your chest.

"You're shy," he added.

You nodded.

He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.

"Hogsmeade," he said.

You hummed in surprise.

"This weekend. Me, you."

Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.

But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.

***

"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.

"I don't even know if it's a date."

"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."

You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."

"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."

You gave your best friend a small smile.

"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"

***

You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.

How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.

He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.

Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.

At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.

"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"

You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.

"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.

He shrugged.

It was frustrating.

You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."

He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.

"Nott?"

He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.

"Theo- what are you doing?"

Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.

You hummed in agreement.

"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."

Your breath hitched, "Really?"

"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."

You felt your ears heat up.

"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."

A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.

"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."

You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.

"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."

"Horrifying?"

"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——

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cal-flakes · 2 months

Note

omg !! rate (dealer or not i don't mind !!) spoiling reader after she's had a tough n emotional week :( projecting rn !! ilysm and ur writing is amazing !!

so sorry it’s so late! i’ve only just started properly writing again :( love ya

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “y’okay kid?” a gruff mutter echoed from outside the bathroom as you lay still, eyes so focused yet so withdrawn as you watched the way your fingers floated in the now lukewarm bath rafe had run earlier. huffing meekly in agreement, you listened intently as his footsteps shifted, lingering for a moment. “be back soon, alright doll?” he called once more, secretly wishing for more than a distant sigh. “m’kay” you whispered, resting your head back against the cool tile.

rafe cameron was many things but never a liar, well — never to you at least. he said he’d be back soon, and back soon he was. yet, it felt like hours till you heard the familiar sound of his heavy footsteps, alongside a not so familiar rustling.

you saw it coming, the stuff knocks on the bathroom door once again, that didn’t mean you were pleased to hear them. the thought of getting out, or even just moving was exhausting, especially after such a long week, or the week of hell as you’d named it earlier, earning a sympathetic chuckle from your love as he adjusted himself in the drivers seat, ready and waiting to pick you up from work.

“c’mon darlin’ you gotta get out now, waters cold” he stated firmly, much unlike his earlier pleas. “m’coming” you huffed. “i’ma leave you to it, meet me downstairs”

it wasn’t uncommon for rafe to be so matter of fact with you anymore, he’d sharp learned that pleas and coaxing does nothing for you, never as beneficial as simply telling you.

patting the last layer of your skincare into your face, you turned slowly to open the bathroom door, eyes widening as quickly as the could as you took in the arrangement on your shared bed — tulips, pink ones specifically, chocolates, all splayed out beautifully, laid carefully beside — a teddy bear?

“rafe?” you queried, feet padding against the cold floor, pace much quicker — bouncier even now that you’d festered for a couple of hours, recharging. “yeah doll?” he hummed from the lounge, throwing his head back over the couch to look at you, lips quick to turn upwards as he noticed the new plush hanging from your grasp. “another one?” you beamed, quickly rounding the cushioned chair, all but diving into his lap — in which he was quick to catch you, placing numerous soft kisses to your freshly combed hair.

“s’nothin, just remembered you said you needed an new addition, n’you’ve had a shit week, jus’ thought it might help..” he spoke, slender fingers raking through your hair as you lay in his lap, glossy lips and glassy eyes peering up at him as though he’d gifted you the moon.

#ʚ♡ɞ ☁: elle’s dreams #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafecameron #rafe obx #obx #dom!rafe #soft!rafe cameron

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minarisplaything · 4 months

Text

High Rise ft. IVE Wonyoung

Pairing: IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.4k Tags: Daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Choking A/N: i said i would didn't i? probably the fastest i've made a fic recently which also means please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes you find. might not be my best work but it sure was fun to write o7 Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction/parody

Dating a k-pop idol wasn’t easy. Especially when you were a so-called commoner. There were the obvious reasons, like you had to keep your relationship a secret until they reached their thirties, if you made it that long.And the not-so-obvious reasons; like watching your girlfriend parade around in sexy stage outfits and having to contain your desire to fuck her in them.

Or maybe that was just you.

When your girlfriend was Jang Wonyoung, a hyper-popular It girl – you cringed at even thinking those words aloud – the restrictions were even worse. Like that one time you had wanted to bring her flowers at her group's concert in Seoul and had to be snuck backstage with a bag over your head. Or the time someone had caught the two of you flirting candidly and Wonyoung blurted out that you were her cousin to save face. Embarrassing but somehow also cute when it came from her.

All this was to say it wasn’t easy.

But it certainly wasn’t without its benefits.

“Fuck, that one looks so good, princess,” you praised.

You snapped another photo as Wonyoung posed, biting her bottom lips and giving the camera a smoldering look. She hooked her fingers into her hip-hugging jeans, tugging them slightly as you quickly snapped another series of photos.

Honestly, you were somewhat shocked when Wonyoung told you her idea. It had felt provocative, mature even, and thus far each photo had proved that assumption right. But you rarely, if ever said no to her, even if her motivations were somewhat questionable. In fact, you wondered if this was all your fault.

“You left a like on Yuna-nim’s photo,” Wonyoung had said at the time. Her tone carried an accusatory hint.

“Did I?” you had stammered, trying to play naive. “I was just scrolling my feed and must’ve double tapped.”

“So you follow them?”

“Them?”

“Other girl groups,” Wonyoung clarified.

One thing you had learned about the IVE princess was that while she was sweet as a button on most days, she carried a jealous streak that verged on volatile. Sharing was not in her programming, least of all when it came to you.

You had recognized the trap forming but it had been too late. “Well, I mean, just to keep up. You know you do challenges sometimes and appear on their feeds.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side and slight pout was all the answer you needed.

That week you had gone without any physical contact from your girlfriend. Though she made sure to send you the filthiest selfies possible throughout. Which, oddly, worked. Because no matter how much you touched yourself to the photos she sent, it didn’t compare to the real thing.

It had seemed like the incident was over and in the past but as you snapped a few more photos of Wonyoung by the windowsill, you briefly wondered if this stemmed from it as well.

“Are you sure you’re going to post these on Instagram?” you asked, after a particularly racy photo.

“Mhm,” Wonyoung nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Remember the bathroom?”

“Oh, I remember.”

You also remembered the ones that hadn’t made it to social media and were sent directly to you. But this still felt even more daring than this.

“How many likes do you think this will get?” she asked, coolly, giving the camera a sultry look. An innocent question. At least on the surface. But you remembered her comment one night as you two relaxed together.

“Besides, it’s to promote the sponsor, that’s all. This will get the most engagements,” she added. Her gaze dropped and a small smirk formed on her lips, “In fact, I’d say it’s already working.”

You followed her gaze, looking down to see a rather obvious tent had formed in your sweatpants. You laughed, a flush coloring your cheeks. “Well, shit. Can you blame me?”

“I guess I can’t,” Wonyoung said coolly.

The way she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, spoke to more mischief however.

“Wony,” you wet your dry lips, “Are we still doing the shoot?”

“Mhm “ she nodded cutely, “Of course.”

She did another pose, pushing the waist of the jeans down to expose the lace underwear she had on underneath.

“You know, I love it up here. It’s perfect,” Wonyoung said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah…” you muttered, more focused on the sight of her exposed abs and smooth skin than her question.

By here she was referring to the penthouse you were using for the photoshoot. Funny enough, she could easily afford a place like this on her own. Though that would only spur on more talk about inequality among the rookie group.

“Being so high up…” she turned her head to look out the window. Your breath caught as you watched delicate fingers slip inside of her jeans. “We can see everything but no one can see us. Even if we were naked against this window they’d never know…”

Now you weren’t the smartest bulb in the room. In fact, sometimes you wondered if it was your self-proclaimed himbo status that Wonyoung liked most about you. But even you could put two and two together. And Wonyoung’s words combined with the side-eyed glance she was giving you were all screaming one thing.

“I could show my naked body to all of Seoul and no one. would. know.”

Her tongue pronounced every syllable while she locked eyes with you. As sweet and kind as Wonyoung could be she had an undeniable minx side to her. You were also fairly certain your girlfriend got off on the power high of being such a desired person but you had never actually confirmed that.

If you were starting to get hard when she pointed it out earlier, you were practically aching now. You tossed your phone onto the couch and made your way over to where Wonyoung was by the window. She let out a delighted squeal as you pushed her up against the glass, kissing her passionately.

Your hands moved against her stomach, feeling her toned abs that were shown off by the outfit she was wearing. Honestly, you should send a bouquet to whatever designer sent this to her to promote. You nipped at Wonyoung's bottom lip, your hands sliding into her unbuttoned pants to squeeze her ass.

"It took you long enough," Wonyoung gasped, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I thought was going to have to beg you to fuck me."

Your cock twitched, straining painfully against your jeans, "You still could you know."

She must have been in a good mood because the idol looked at you with large eyes, biting on her bottom lip. "Please fuck me against the window, daddy."

Oh.

You see, it had taken some time but you learned that your girlfriend had two modes. The arrogant queen who knew all of Seoul was her playground and made you worship at her feet. Then there was the submissive princess who begged to be pleased until she was satisfied. Often her mood was some mixture of the two but neither one left you unsatisfied.

"If that's what the Princess wants," you growled.

A delighted smile crossed the idol's features followed by another joyful squeal when you spun her around to face the window. Her hands rose, catching herself as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. You could see the aroused flush creeping up her neck and coloring her round cheeks.

"Didn't you say something about showing everyone your tits?" you whispered in her ear.

Not waiting for a response, you pulled her top down, exposing her tits to the cool glass of the window earning a gasp from Wonyoung in response. You pressed further against her, the bulge in your pants pushing against her ass.

"This whole shoot was just to rile me up, wasn't it?" you said, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. Your hands moved quickly to yank the jean pants she was wearing, exposing the white lace panties that she had teased you with a peek of earlier.

"Maybe," Wonyoung mewled, arching her back perfectly.

Your hands hooked into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to reveal her bare ass to your hungry gaze, "Bullshit. You knew what you were doing."

"Maybe I just wanted to remind you of what's right in front of you," she said.

There it was. That switch up she was capable of. It also confirmed your theory that your girlfriend hadn't exactly forgiven and forgotten about the Instagram incident. Well, there was no time better than now to put the matter to bed. You gripped your cock, slipping it between her legs to get it slick from her dripping sex.

"Oh, I'm well aware of what's in front of me," you started. Slowly you began to slip your thick cock inside of her, inch by inch with each syllable. "The most beautiful." More. "Talented." More. "Gorgeous." More. "Perfect." More. "Princess."

"Fuck!" Wonyoung moaned, her forehead bracing against the window.

"Is the princess feeling full?"

"So, so full…" she cooed.

"And I didn't even get to mention how good a girlfriend you are," you teased.

You could feel her pussy quivering around your length, stretching to accommodate the familiar intrusion of your cock. Wonyoung's hands were splayed against the windows of the high-rise, her ass pushed out and into you. She was on full display and only you were lucky enough to see it.

You could take it slow with steady, languid strokes, gently fucking your girlfriend against the window. But something told you that wasn't what she nor you wanted at that moment. Your fingers flexed around her waist, pulling out your cock until just the tip remained inside of her before thrusting your entire length back inside of her. Wonyoung's body jolted with pleasure as she braced her nude body against the window.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harder. "To know how much you turn me on." Faster. "To see how fucking hard you get me." Deeper. "No one else makes me like this." Repeat.

A mixture of mewls and moans fell from the idol's mouth at your relentless rhythm. Her head fell forward, her cheek pressed up against the glass. Perspiration was starting to form across her flawless skin and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up. You wanted to prove a point, to fuck Wonyoung to the point of exhaustion for the whole city to see. After that maybe you'd enjoy the little perversions.

"You probably say that to every - fuck - every girl," Wonyoung panted, glancing at you from over her shoulder. "You're probably just waiting to move onto the next idol you're drooling over."

She didn't say it with enough conviction for you to believe she truly felt that way. For starters, while Wonyoung may get jealous, she was not insecure. At least, not enough to ever think another idol was above her. It was more often a toxic possessive kind of jealousy. But nonetheless, in the heat of the moment you'd take the bait.

"Is that what you think?" he said, your breathing growing heavy with your harsh thrust. Conversation wasn't exactly easy at this pace. "Did you miss what I said earlier, huh?"

One hand moved from her waist to slip around Wonyoung's throat. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat as you squeezed. For a passing second there was no sound save for the repeated slaps of skin against skin as your hips were flush against Wonyoung's ass each time you entered her.

"I only want you," you finally gasp. "Always you."

Rather than another vulgar display to go along with your words, you merely lean over her, capturing her lips in a sideways kiss. It's messy and imperfect but it's also loving and passionate. Your tongues dance together all while your bodies remain intertwined. You can feel Wonyoung pussy quivering around your cock intensely as she moans into your mouth. When you pull back, you look at your girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you just cum from that?" you asked.

"S-shut up," Wonyoung retorted. You noticed a bright red hue of embarrassment coloring her cheeks before she hid her face, "Don't stop until you finish inside of me,"

It was always adorable when she continued trying to be dominant after her own orgasm. However, her words had an undeniable effect on you. "If that's what the princess wants."

You returned to the task at hand, focusing your efforts solely on chasing your first release and Wonyoung's second orgasm.

"Daddy," Wonyoung mewled, finding her voice. "I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum deep inside my tight pussy.""

You had a sinking suspicion that her words were payback for causing her embarrassing moments earlier. Her attempt at provoking you to blow your load sooner than you had intended to.

Regardless it worked to immediate effect. Your hips jerked, slamming against hers from behind. Your sweat-drenched body pressed flush against Wonyoung, pushing her up against the high-rise window. Your cock twitched, ropes of your sticky seed shooting inside of her womb as her walls convulsed around your length.

Of course the two things that pushed her over the edge would be you saying how you loved her and her revelling the power she had to make you cum on the spot. Truly a representative of her duality.

After a moment had passed and you began to regain your bearings you pressed a kiss to Wonyoung's shoulder.

"That was incredible, Wony," you muttered.

"I know," she said, her form practically radiating. "You weren't bad either."

You let out a chuckle, placing another lazy kiss to her skin, "Maybe we should've included that in the photoshoot."

Wonyoung smiled but didn't immediately respond. After a moment of delay she turned in your arms to look at you.

"Did you mean all those things you said?" she asked.

Her wide eyes looked at you and you reached up to brush aside a strand of sweat soaked hair. There was no hesitation in your response when you answered her.

"Absolutely. And don't you think otherwise for a second."

A smile beamed across the idol's face and she leaned forward, burying her face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around her and quietly you wondered if you weren't the luckiest man in the world.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #girl group smut #ive imagines #wonyoung imagines #ive x reader #male reader #wonyoung x male reader

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chaepink · 7 months

Note

CHAEEE U TAKE JJK REQUESTS NOW??

if you do, can I request a lil smt where r punishes satoru— letting him grind on readers thigh, degrading him and touching nothing but his hips and nipples !!!! tons of begging too bc satoru is a bratty bitch 😁😁

just disregard this req if u wish!! thank u!!

Such a flirt | sub!gojo satoru

wc: 1.8k+ words | masterlist

dom!reader, marking, handjob, begging, degradation, ruined orgasm, edging, dacryphilla, thigh grinding, nipple sucking/biting

note : making gojo cry >>>

not really proofread btw

Gojo Satoru is attractive, and infuriating so. Too bad for everyone else though, since he's yours.

And you let everyone know that. With the many hickeys and marks that you leave on his neck and collarbone (and even lower on his body) along with the death glare you give to whoever is being a little too comfortable with him, people around have learned to leave alone what's not theirs.

But sometimes it seems that Gojo forgets that himself or rather purposely forgets and then goes off to flirt with someone as if he wasn't already taken. He's a brat whenever you don't pay enough attention to him so of course he's being bratty right now.

Of course, you know he's trying to rile you up every time he does it but lucky for him, you take the bait every. single. time.

So after catching him flirting with yet another one of his fans with them getting too touchy with him, you grabbed him away from them and towards your room to give him a punishment.

"fuck- p-please [name]! i'm sorryyy." Gojo's whimpers and moans are muffled by your neck as he grips your shirt for dear life.

The grip you have on his dick is brutal as you pump up and down at a slow, agonizing pace. Lewd sounds from Gojo along with the slick of your hand on his dick fill your room. You ignore the fact that they may pass through the walls, your anger making you instead focus on the brat in front of you.

You're towering above him as his back is towards the wall, the two of you on your bed. One of your hands is placed above his shoulder and on the wall behind him, giving you leverage and successfully preventing Gojo from running away from his punishment.

Well, it's not like he can run away when he's already a mess underneath you.

You whisper in his ear, his face still tucked within the side of your neck.

"You have to be quiet, Gojo." You coo at him, your pace becoming even slower if it was possible which earns you a pitiful whine from him.

"Everyone is going to hear what a fucking slut you are if you continue to let out those pornographic noises." You chuckle when he lets out a moan when you squeeze his cock.

"Unless you want that of course. You want everyone to find out how much of a whore you are, dont you?" Gojo shivers in your grasp and shakes his head frantically at the thought. But then he remembers the grip you have on his dick and that thought leaves his mind immediately.

His next words are muffled slightly but you can still hear them.

"ngh f-faster..." You furrow your eyebrows and tug his hair back to look at him using your unoccupied hand which makes Gojo let out a mewl. The small pricks of pain on his scalp, while uncomfortable, only add to the pleasure.

"I don't think you're allowed to order me around when you've been a brat today." Gojo looks up at you with flushed cheeks and tears welled up in his eyes. Even now, with his hard dick in your grasp and hair pulled back, you can't lie that Gojo looks pretty.

"tell me when you're close, alright? Don't continue to be a brat." Gojo slowly nods and it doesn't take long for him to get close to cumming, his noises getting louder which alerts you that he's close.

But brats don't get cum so when he starts pleading and begging to release, letting out little 'please!'s and "i-im close!"s, your hand releases from his red dick. Immediately, Gojo widens his eyes and looks at you but you're too focused on his dick and the way pre drips from the tip.

Once Gojo realizes what you've done, he lets out a loud wail, thrashing his arms around like a child throwing a tantrum as he sobs from the ruined orgasm. Tears streak his face as his whining turns to small sniffles and he looks at you with such a pathetic face that you wish to take a picture and save it in your camera roll.

"w-why did you s-stop!"

You give him a grin and sit down against a wall. Gojo watches as you pat your thigh and he immediately scrambles to sit there, earning him a "good boy" from you which makes him blush.

His still hard dick lays between the two of you, desperately waiting for any type of contact. He accidentally moves forward which makes his dick brush against your chest, making Gojo whimper.

His crying has stopped and he looks down at you with awaiting eyes.

You absentmindedly rub at the exposed skin at his waist, making Gojo shiver at the contrast of your cold hands to his warm skin.

"Brats don't get to cum, and you've been a brat haven't you?" Gojo avoids your stern eye contact, guilt obvious on his face.

"So," you start to say, gently grabbing his dick which makes him let out a hiss at the slight pain before you place your hands on the bed underneath you.

"if you want to cum, I better see you do so by grinding on my thigh, on your own." Gojo falters at the mention of how you won't be helping him but he quickly places his hands on your shoulders to steady himself.

'I can do it', he thinks. He can make himself cum without you touching him.

He slowly grinds down on you, letting out a shuddering gasp. His hands squeeze your shoulders as he speeds up his pace a little. Your hands go to hover over his hips, making Gojo whine. He pouts at you adorably, his face flushed.

"Put them o-on... please!..." You chuckle at his adorable beg and gently place your hands on his hips. You give it a small squeeze and Gojo quickens his pace. Who knew that your hands on his waist would turn him on so much?

His hard dick bounces up and down between you two and you glance down to take a peek at it. Pre cum drips from the red tip and you grin, knowing he won't last long without your touch.

He continues to let out little cute gasps and pathetic whimpers before wrapping his arms around your neck and burying his face against his arm. His grinding slows down and you hear him mumble out something.

"T-Touch me please, [name]." You hear him sniffle, is he crying?

You coo at him. "Aw are you that desperate for me to touch you that you're crying? You can't cum without my touch?" He nods into his arm and he lets out a muffled whimper when you squeeze his hips.

The pre cum on his dick stains your shirt and pants as it rubs against it every time he grinds on your thigh and drips down his dick but you don't pay it any attention, not when Gojo is letting out such pretty noises.

"Tell me, what do you want me to do? Look at me, darling." Gojo pulls away from his arm and you notice the tears clumping on his eyelashes.

You caress his cheek and you watch as he rubs against your hand with a pout. He looks so pretty and adorable.

"Want you to touch me, [name]." He looks at you with pleading eyes and you curse at yourself, knowing you won't be able to deny his request. He's too pretty for his own good sometimes.

"Yeah? You want me to touch you?" Your hands give his hips one last squeeze before they travel up to his nipples to ghost over them.

"Here?" He lets out a small gasp and nods.

"Pleasepleaseplease." You shush him with your finger and chuckle. "If you want me to touch you, get back to grinding on my thigh." He didn't even notice that he stopped but he quickly resumes his previous pace, speeding up even more.

Your hands ghost over his nipples once more before pinching them, eliciting a whimper from Gojo. You continue flicking and pinching them before leaning your face closer to one of them with a grin. He looks down at you with widened eyes before letting out a squeal when you take one in your mouth and begin sucking on it.

"ah! s-shit." You chuckle with his nipple still in your mouth, sending vibrations through his body. You lick the bud before teasingly biting it, Gojo's pretty noises filling the room and urging you to keep going. You switch over to the other one and do the same thing, making Gojo whine.

He glances at you, all while still riding your thigh as if his life depends on it. The bored expression on your face as you're sucking and biting his nipples knocks the breath out of his lungs. You leave a bite mark around one, making Gojo hiss at the slight pain.

You look so calm and collected while Gojo is the exact opposite, falling apart on top of you all because of your small touches. He would normally feel embarrassed but he can't right now, not when he feels so good. With a 'pop', you release his nipple from your mouth and look at how dumbed down he is, his face is all red and tears are once again flooding his eyes due to the pleasure. His nipples are red from your touches and the bite mark you left begins to turn red.

"You're such a pain slut, aren't you?" Gojo nods at you.

It doesn't take long until he feels the need to cum. He can't form the words to beg you for permission, opting to instead look at you and hoping you would see the desperation within his pretty eyes.

You smile at him and as you lean in to whisper in his ear, you squeeze both of his nipples at the same before murmuring the phrase that Gojo wants to hear.

"Go on then, cum."

Mere seconds later Gojo is screaming as he throws his head back, sobs racking his body as he shoots his cum all over his chest and on your shirt, dirtying it even more than it was before. He squeezes your shoulders, holding onto them for dear life as his orgasm floods his body.

You watch in awe as tears streak down his face and soon he buries his face into your neck, hiccuping and whimpering as he slows down his grinding. He mumbles "thank you"s over and over again until he quiets down.

You wait a few minutes for him to calm down before whispering into his ear with a smirk.

"Round two?" Gojo whines at your teasing but you feel his dick harden against your stomach and you know he wants it too.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

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rainbowfractals · 1 month

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This post is about antisemitism. I'm going to put my cards on the table here. I am not Jewish, I am a Muslim. I have been spending a lot of time in predominantly left and leftist spaces for some years. I've been paying attention to what's being going on on this site too. I think the left, the right no matter what your politics are has a big problem with antisemitism. I've seen people constantly dismiss it, claim it isn't a priority, claim the effects aren't that bad.

Within the last 4 months, I have seen many Jewish people on the Internet , on this site and others leave or take down anything relating to being Jewish because of constant harrasment. This harrasment has had an upsurge but it is not new, I remember hearing the same canards and same false claims years and years ago. I keep seeing people betray a callousness to effects this political enviroment and hostility has on Jewish people.

They refuse to even push back against statements like 'they care more about the jews' or 'being a member of the chosen people means your better than everyone else and they're your slaves', 'there are too many jews in the government', 'there are no palestinians who are of jewish descent, have jewish family members or are jewish and this is propaganda''. I've seen people unable to speak about grief about those they trusted and respected turning out to be antisemites without being harrased over the ethnic cleansing in Palestine.

I've seen a lot of antisemitism in Muslim spaces too, ranging from 'we're tolerant and this is how they repay us', to condenscension to 'some aren't bad but others are bloodthirsty and vengeful', and denial of any antisemitic attacks or crimes done by Muslims. I have also seen attempts to put a stop to this and defend against this and correct misinformation.

But the biggest problem I've seen is that their are a lot of people, who see this is wrong but don't do much about it, or think that it will somehow take away from calling for Palestinian liberation some who have saying this line for years others who have only just started saying it recently. In my experience it is generally not Palestinians saying this who are far more likely to push back against dehumanzing rhetoric than those who say , 'Oh we can't focus it now, Palestinians are dying.' In fact I seen anger against using phrases like 'free palestine' to hurt Jewish people as using the oppression of a people to be antisemities.'

People [in general] keep adding all kinds of caveats 'oh some are good', 'oh some are kids', like acknowledging the humanity of the Jewish people takes the lifeblood away from a Palestinian. In my experience openly saying one should listen to and defend Jewish people and Jewish communities from antisemitism without question is getting increasingly a volatile response. Simply saying that 'Oh what if they're a Zionist?' to just horrific biogtry is antisemitic and you should never deny what's happened to them is bad on that basis. Its used a dogwhistle to justify anything.

And here's the thing, I've spent the last 5 or so years trying to learn all I can about Judaism and Jewish culture, and the dissonance between what I now know and what I see around me has grown very wide. I don't know that much, but I keep seeing the same misinformation and lack of care as to how destructive it is. I keep seeing people assuming that antisemitism is someone else's problem to deal with. I keep seeing all kinds of monolithic, flattening and caricatures that bear no resemblance to the reality.

The most jarring thing was that there are people on this very site that if you had one should support and stand with Jewish people against antisemitism to make a fairer world that had learned a lot about why it is so rampant are now shying away from these statements. Jewish people are spoken about as if one event has obliterated any past or present of discrimination. As if their lives they have led have ceased to exist. The things that caused that atrocity and the current horrors were still around 5, 10 years ago. It wasn't out of nowhere.

I have seen those who have no issue with agreeing with neo-nazis and just violent hate and doxxing and shootings and so on and simply unpersoning Jews in their mind. This has happened many times before and unless there is a big change will happen many times again.

More and more Jewish people are ailenated and leaving places there otherwise went, changing how they live their lives and so on. To all those who are suffering from this. I'm sorry that this happening you shouldn't be treated in such a cruel way.

And to those of us who seen or noticed this withdrawal, we should try to prevent it. Its not enough to say that's wrong to some hateful statements we have work against a hostile and suspicious enviroment this hate flourishes in and give it no air to breathe and to water to drink from.

Antisemitism is not someone else's problem, its all of our problem. We should be vigilant in spotting it and then doing something about it. Many say this but there is a great need for action. Everywhere, on the social media, on the schools and workplaces in the place sof worship in the businesses, in the politics, in the media and so on.

I'm going to say this again, as because I am not Jewish I cannot be claimed to be priveleged and looking for attention by those denying the case. When I say volatile reaction, I mean there are people who viewed me talking about differences in theology between Judaism and Islam and the work of David Bar-Tzur in sign lanaguage interepretation Jewish settings and writings and community work with the Jewish Deaf community and how Judeo-Christian does not exist and is antisemitic and so on.

As first distaste 1 as I spoke to them about it over multiple conversations and was met with increasing hostility and eventually claims that I was following 'degenerates' and that I was too 'kindhearted' and had become 'brainwashed' by 'Zionist media'. Which quickly changed from condescending pity to cold anger when I protested against this. When said I wasn't going to get disclaimers that some 'Jews are bad' all the time whenever I said anything about them and deemed what they were saying to be antisemitic, the conversation devolved from there.

In their eyes I'm object of suspicon for essentially sympathising too much with Jewish people and knowing 'too much'. Yes they considered the amount I knew to be a sign I was brainwashed. It was even insinuated that I lack faith in my own religion and so on. If I didn't like this, I could just walk away and ditch everything I have said and done then keep my head down. But those suffering from antisemitism can't do this as they are being targeted.

That's all I have to say. Please respond if you have anything you'd want to say to me.

This was someone I've known for years who had over time more and more negative reaction, by distaste I mean there was a distinct sense of when I brought the topic up. Perhaps naively I keep trying to talk with them knowing what I know now I would have disengaged sooner and stopping trying act like this was a two-sided good faith discussion earlier, but the past is the past.

I also did not expect this post to get so much traction, I assumed some of my mutuals would read it and it would get some likes and a few reblogs and replies then the attention would leave my blog. I've been reading the responses, thank you for what you've had to say.

Also there are many people doing good work fighting against this in Muslim communities all over, I fear perhaps my original version this post didn't focus on that much, I was talking more about people causing and keeping up this issue.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #muslim #antisemitism in muslim communities #fractal posts

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saerins · 5 months

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°୨୧ NO CONTEST

+ kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, friends to lovers, slight hints of jealousy, mentions of alcohol, they go clubbing

notes: help me i think i made myself fall for this guy even more after writing this shit for him > ⤙ <

summary: being just friends doesn’t mean much when neither of you really want to keep it that way. problem is, will either of you make the first move?

SPOTTED: KAISER-KAIA DUO HIT THE STREETS, NEW BUDDING ROMANCE?

“i like you though, y/n.”

it’s spring and the weather outside is the nicest it’s ever been in a while and you have every chance to enjoy it except for the fact that dear michael kaiser is lounging on your couch, rifling through the magazine he got in the mail.

“right, haha, very funny,” you mumble sarcastically, slumping down onto the other couch where kaiser isn’t sprawled all over.

sometimes, you think it’s funny how he’s portrayed as this hot, sexy, confident soccer player who can do no wrong when it comes to matters with his looks, but then in private he’s like… well, this. his bed head’s a mess, his room slippers are the fluffy-fuzzy kind, and much less high maintenance than everyone makes him out to be. (but you have to stop yourself from staring because kaiser doesn’t sleep in anything but his sweatpants during this season and well, where his abs are concerned, he’s definitely got no problems there.)

kaiser sighs in the overdramatic fashion that’s probably his trademark right about now. “y/n, y/n, what do i have to do to make you believe me?” he turns around, smirking at you as he raises a brow. maybe it’ll work on his countless fangirls, but after being friends with him for over six years, you’re probably immune to it.

“maybe you can just shut up and get ready for your event later.” you roll your eyes, sauntering to the kitchen to get yourself some breakfast, automatically making two of everything because kaiser loves to crash your apartment in the morning. (he really does need to learn about personal space.)

breakfast preparations go quietly. kaiser listens to you—he shuts up and starts getting ready for his event before coming back into your apartment, all fresh and ready to shamelessly eat the breakfast you made, staring at you from across the table whenever you’re not looking like he always does.

“kaiser-kaia duo hit the streets, new budding romance?”

“miko, don’t tell me you’re reading that gossip rag too,” you whine, looking for any excuse not to dive into your pile of work for the day.

your colleague swivels her chair over to your cubicle, looking around to make sure your bosses aren’t around to witness the both of you slacking off. “hey, isn’t he your friend? give me the tea! are they really dating?”

leave it to miko to get all excited about dating rumours. you really don’t know what’s so special about them—kaiser’s gotten so many of them ever since, well, forever. even before he became a soccer superstar.

you remember what kaiser said in the morning. “i like you though, y/n.” always ready with that smooth tongue of his. that aside, if he really was dating someone, you bet that they’d be staying over with him more often than not, and there’s really no harm in rejecting a rumor as opposed to confirming one.

“nope, they just happened to be waiting for a cab at the same spot.” and paparazzis love to snap a shot from misleading angles. now that you’re really looking at the article, they managed to make it look like kaiser’s kissing her cheek. you find yourself rolling your eyes at it and looking away.

miko sighs, leaning back against her chair. “man, that sucks, they look cute,” she comments, scrolling away from the online article before she gives you a suspicious side eye. “hey, you sure you’re not dating him?”

you still a little at the sudden line of questioning before turning your attention back to your laptop equally quickly. “if i was, i wouldn’t be so free all the time now, would i?” a response to which miko shrugs off and decides to let go of as she retreats back to her desk.

as much as you love miko as your colleague, you haven’t been as honest with her as you could. she knows you’re friends with kaiser, yeah, but she doesn’t know he’s basically your neighbour. she doesn’t know that he comes over all the time whenever it’s off season. she doesn’t know that the both of you have fallen asleep next to each other on the couch.

she doesn’t know a lot of things—like how your heart’s beating erratically now at the notion of being someone special to kaiser. it’s always been sweet nothings that you thought would stay that way, and you’ve always been short at realising your own feelings, so much so you were, once upon a time, positive you had zero romantic feelings for your friend.

now? you’re not so sure anymore.

seven days pass and kaiser’s been pestering you every single moment you’re free—like he always does—but today’s kind of a special day because it’s your birthday and it’s an hour away from your dinner party yet you’re not even close to ready.

your hair’s wet, you’re still in your loungewear, you have no idea what to wear and kaiser’s just flipping through the channels, half bored to death. for his part, at least, he’s already ready.

it’s not even fair how he takes just half an hour to get ready and yet he looks like he does. hair perfectly soft, and he’s wearing a nice black suit with a wine red dress shirt underneath, his tattoos peeking out here and there. if he wasn’t a soccer player, he’d definitely either be a model or a very charming businessman.

“too handsome for you?” kaiser smirks as he catches you looking, and you have to spin on your heels to avoid getting flustered (to his face).

“shut up, kaiser, i haven’t found anything to wear,” you groan, making a beeline for your bedroom. you really wished your friends hadn’t booked a high-end restaurant for little old you—then you could literally just throw on anything and be done with it.

kaiser, completely comfortable in your apartment, strolls into your bedroom with you and starts browsing through your closet, ignoring your protests. within seconds, he finds a dress and holds it out, a lopsided smile filling his face. “how about this?”

the wine red satin dress hovers in front of you, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat before you speak, feeling the line getting blurry. “trying to get me to coordinate outfits with you or something?”

you’re trying your best but your voice quivers just a little bit, and you bet that smug smile on his face that he can hear it. “why not? we look good together,” he shrugs, as though it’s no big deal but it’s hard to stop yourself from overthinking when lately the two of you have been flirting more often and serious than usual.

rolling your eyes and trying not to be too late, you grab the dress from him and change into it, spending some time to yourself to recollect, internally cursing him for being able to make you this flustered over nothing at all.

by the time you come back out into the living room, hair all done and accessories settled, this time, kaiser’s the one who’s caught staring, shameless in the way his eyes drag over you from head to toe. you’d tease him for it, but you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for his comeback so you refrain.

as you grab your go-to black heels and sit down to strap them on properly, kaiser’s quick to offer a hand, his lithe fingers taking your heel from you, slowly inserting your feet, his eyes lingering on your face and his thumb rubbing circles around your ankle. your eyes are glued to his own, and somehow it makes you even more nervous when he’s not joking around. when he looks at you like this—serious, like he’s trying to tell you something without saying anything at all.

the way he ties the straps are gentle and precise, tight but not too tight that it’ll hurt you. you’ve jokingly told him to help you tie your shoelaces before but he’s always refused. yet now he’s helping you put on your heels on both feet without saying a word and the way his hand lingers on your calf when he’s done is enough to make you melt.

on some other day, you’d joke with him and get him to let go. today, you’re silent.

kaiser chuckles, though, his hand casually brushing up your calf slightly before he pulls away, gently patting your head as he gets up.

“let’s go.”

dinner is agonising, enjoyable, agonising.

it’s nice; being seated around a table, enjoying small talk and nonsense with the same group of friends, catching up with people like kaiser and ness who’s been away a lot because of their profession.

yeah, that part’s nice. what’s agonising about it all is how close kaiser is to you, how his right hand casually drapes around your shoulder from time to time, shifting down to your thigh sometimes, making you go crazy.

it’s not like the both of you haven’t been close before, but you feel like maybe this time, it’s different. it’s not just the close proximity, it’s the intimacy of it all that has you inwardly keeling over. what’s worse is that you think you want it, him. in a way you didn’t think to think of before.

“you sure you’re not dating him?”

miko’s words ring repeatedly in your head. somehow, your answer’s changed from nope to you sort of wish you did. you bite your lower lip, absentmindedly laughing along even if you didn’t hear the joke at all.

“you okay?” the voice in your ear nearly makes you jump up from your seat.

on your right, ness is grinning as he looks at you, like he knows something’s going on in that little head of yours. you shake your head anyway, but ness shoots you a knowing smile as his eyes briefly shift to kaiser’s arm around you before winking at you.

fuck, is that really enough to make the heat rush to your cheeks?

“y/n?” one of your other friends calls out, snapping you back to the foreground.

“what?”

“next stop: new club downtown! orange, or grape, or whatever the fuck name it is,” he drawls, excited, “you up for it?”

before you even get the chance to agree, one of the other guys speaks up. “hey kaiser, speaking of clubs, didn’t that dating rumour come up recently? the one with, uh, kaia?”

readjusting himself, kaiser pulls away from you, taking a swig of his beer. “don’t remind me,” he groans, sighing.

“why not? she’s hot!”

there’s a knot in your stomach that you can’t explain.

beside you, ness snickers. “tell ‘em what really happened, stupid.”

that manages to pique your interest.

kaiser sighs, resigning because he knows they’ll just keep hounding him if he refuses. “she tried her luck, that’s all,” he settles for something vague, trying to escape.

ness, however, ever the kind soul, expands on his words, making sure you hear every single bit—you’re not sure if he’s trying to egg you on or just see your reaction.

“please, she was trying to get you to send her home, no?” ness’ explanation gets a reaction out of the group, and you’re glad you all have a private room here so no one outside can hear you, servers included.

“shut up.”

“kaia and kaiser—has a nice ring to it.”

and even though kaiser doesn’t entertain that, you feel a little envy brewing inside you—one that you fail to drown out.

orange is filled with people; combining the fact that it’s holiday season and it’s the club’s launch night, it’s safe to say that there’s barely any room to breathe. still, your friends are all drunk on the alcohol, pulling one another to the dance floor, leaving you and kaiser at the table.

he’s still close as ever, his bare hands brushing yours, one of his arms around your waist, keeping you close.

“dance with me,” he raises his voice over the music. the way he smiles so genuinely now managing to make your heart skip a beat.

suppressing your grin, you wordlessly agree, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. he meanders the crowd skilfully, as expected considering he and ness are frequent clubbers. it’s only now that you realise you’d never gone to such a place with him, which is surprising considering your many years of friendship.

as you join your friends on the floor, you can’t help but notice how kaiser sticks to you and you alone, his hands on your waist, trickling up and down your arm, dancing along behind you. even surrounded by people, he commands your attention alone.

unfair.

but to kaiser, it’s unfair too. it’s not fair how you’re so pretty, it’s not fair how you’ve always been. it’s not fair that he’d fallen slowly for you, and now so so deep. how is it fair that even when he tries to forget you, when he tries not to mess with the friendship, that he ends up falling even more?

his eyes stay glued on you, shamelessly making sure no other man gets their hands on you—it’s fucking insulting how they try to get you to dance with them even when he’s right there. lucky for him, you’re not budging. you’re there. with him. only him. even if your other friends are here.

it’s just him and you and he wonders what you’re thinking. are you as flustered as he is right now? kaiser hasn’t even let himself drink more than one mug of beer, all because he knows this is a night he’d rather remember than risk forgetting.

“hey, isn’t that kaia?” one of your friends excitedly points out and kaiser follows his line of sight.

it is her, and she’s heading this way—but that’s not really important because what’s important is how kaiser noticed you’ve stopped dancing, awkwardly trying to shuffle away. it’s kind of funny, he swears he can tell that you might feel the same way about him. maybe you’re just more stubborn than he is.

so he keeps his arms around you, pulling you close.

“stay with me,” he whispers into your ear, and he suppressed a grin from the goosebumps searing across your neck. he guesses it’s a good sign you’re listening to him.

“kaiser, what’s up?” kaia greets, evidently trying to move for a hug but kaiser’s not budging, squeezing you closer instead.

he nods at her in acknowledgement before letting the rest of his friends throng around her for a photo.

once she’s sufficiently busy, he hears you speak up. “were you dancing with her that time too?”

kaiser manages not to snicker at your obviously jealous tone, “yeah, we went with a few other people after our shoot was wrapped up.”

you nod, and all kaiser can think of somehow is that your shampoo smells so nice. “oh, sure you don’t wanna dance with her again tonight then?”

are you testing him? it’s cute.

he shakes his head. “nah, i danced with her a lot that time already,” he teases, though he’s not too sure whether you’d take it like a joke like it was meant to. when you don’t respond, he chuckles, gently turning you to face him. “there’s one thing i didn’t do with her though.”

kaiser’s face is just inches away from yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek and he’s aware that everyone in the close vicinity is looking at the two of you but he doesn’t care.

honestly, he has to admit, he’s dreamed of doing this a thousand times over, always hovering between the decision to ruin this friendship or not. the thoughts were there whenever he’d wake up next to you on the couch. or whenever all of you met up and one of the other guys would throw their arms around you. or in the mornings when you made breakfast. there’s not a time he’s been sure whether this is what you wanted too.

hell, he’s not even sure now. but fuck, if he wastes another minute not trying he thinks he’ll kill himself for it. and he’s hoping to god this isn’t a dream because you’re not pulling away and you’re not treating this like a joke and it can only be because you want this too.

without another thought, his lips press against yours and it’s like the loud music drowns out into the background, getting lost and fading away. suddenly it’s like you’re the only thing in front of him and fuck, you taste even better than he can ever imagine.

“fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pressed against yours. “be mine?”

still breathless from that kiss, you chuckle weakly and nod, both of you earning whoos all around the room. (you make a mental reminder to tell miko before she winds up seeing this online before you get a chance to explain.)

and just like that, kaiser’s finally gotten the girl of his dreams.

“want you, baby, just you.”

the next morning, the two of you make the headlines.

LIPS LOCKED: KAISER & RUMORED GIRLFRIEND SHOW OFF THEIR LOVE

#bllk x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x you #kaiser x y/n #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #michael kaiser fluff #kaiser fluff #kaiser x reader fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

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tonicandjins · 1 year

Text

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon.

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking.

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area.

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark.

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels.

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you.

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven.

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him.

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree.

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him.

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark.

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake.

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think.

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English.

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought.

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea.

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city.

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep. When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning.

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep.

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone.

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends.

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo) - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #haechan fluff #haechan fic #haechan au #haechan scenarios #nct dream #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck fix #donghyuck fic #donghyuck smut #donghyuck angst #haechan x reader #faye's moving castle

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dalliancekay · 2 months

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The 'Aziraphale Still Believes in Heaven' Take

Is one that I see so often. Too often. The way many fans (still) say Aziraphale is so naïve, he's never learned anything, he never changes, Metatron just offered him a promotion and he happily jumped on it. Happy to go back to Heaven. Still in their clutches. Leaving Crowley behind. Cos nothing lasts forever. Amirite? Poor long-suffering Crowley. So patient. Goes through so much. Aww. Takes that say that because Crowley never told Aziraphale about the venom in Gabriel's "Shut your stupid mouth and die already", Aziraphale has no idea that Heaven is not the good guys, that he still believes they are on the side of truth and light.

Takes that claim Aziraphale wants Crowley to come to Heaven and be an angel again so they can be happy like in the good old times. Takes that basically say that Aziraphale is stupid. And blind. LISTEN Do you mean this Aziraphale:

Who knew before Crowley did that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, that things are wrong and one can get in a lot of trouble for a thing as minor as a suggestion to improve things. Is this the Aziraphale that would seriously suggest to Crowley, who he was immediately deeply anxious over, to go back to 'good old times'? What good old times? How is Heaven a place of light when:

A bunch of angels comes down to Earth to bully and PUNCH ONE OF THEIR OWN?

Why would he think they are the light when they shame him for being who he is?

Yes, I HC is that ultimately, Aziraphale still believes in God, in Her inherent goodness, even if Her tasks were often odd... and not lining up with what he thought was right. He thinks (remember my own HC) something somewhere went wrong with the what She wanted and the how it was understood and executed. And yes, Aziraphale wants to do good. But that's not tied to him being an angel. And it's not a bad thing ffs! Crowley does good as well. Aziraphale might be the only one who knows, but he knows. Maybe getting humans out of the Garden to seek knowledge was always a (certainty) possibility, and maybe not, but it was Aziraphale's decision to arm them.

And She didn't make him Fall for it. And do you remember when:

Aziraphale first openly questioned that Heaven was actually doing what God actually wanted? He had a think after the Flood, didn't he. He did what he thought was right. He trusted Crowley over his fellow angels, with his own sense of rightness. He and Crowley saved the kids that Aziraphale triple checked the Archangels saw no problem in letting die to make things easier. And She didn't make him Fall for it. In Edinburgh:

Az re-evaluated the thinking he was taught and did a full 180 degree turn, trying in few hours to save the grave-robbing girl AND the possible future lives of children that could be helped via more learning. And when we come to Metatron and his threats, we don't see the full conversation, but don't we see enough? Aziraphale says that he's not interested. Metatron keeps nagging at him. Pushing the symbolic coffee from Coffee or Death at him. Flattering him with obvious untruths. After all, Aziraphale knows what Heaven thinks of him. He tried to reason with Metatron before. Metatron tells him they know how deep his disobedience lies:

Aziraphale is not a fool. He knows this is an offer of come quietly or we will find a way to destroy you and your demon this time. Aziraphale didn't have to hear Metatron's quip of: "For one prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem." He knows the system is rotten. He knows for a LONG time. Did you see his face when he met Muriel and realised what a lonely sad existence they lead.

AND Crowley doesn't love Aziraphale despite the fact that he's being used to get out of trouble, being made to listen about random things the angel enjoys from symphonies to food and plays, and who continues to believe in goodness and kindness. CROWLEY LOVES AZIRAPAHLE BECAUSE OF THOSE THINGS AND because he sees Aziraphale for what he is, an angel who thinks for himself, changes his mind, learns, angel who is brave, who stands for the right thing, who sacrifices his own happiness for the safety of others, especially the demon he loves. They are the same. They are lonely. They are one of a kind. And they love each other.

Aziraphale wants to stay at home. In the home he built for himself and Crowley. On Earth where he's found so much to love. But he knows it is impossible. As Crowley confesses his love, Aziraphale struggles to stay on his plan to push him away, to make him stay. He'll miss Crowley terribly. He wants them to be together. For him, they were an 'us' the whole S2. However tenuously. Fragile existence and all that.

But even this was ripped away from him. And whatever he's planning, he knows he needs to do the first steps on his own. He can't submit Crowley to the torture that being in Heaven is going to be for him, an unwanted, despised angel. And that would be even worse for an unwanted demon. He had to push him away.

So he leaves. Furious. And determined. Whether it is to burn the place down or find God and ask Her all the questions to Her face I don't know. But his love will push him through.

And if I see one more simplistic take of the snarky demon is really good isn't he, so that means the stuffy angel is bad (and needs to change to be worthy of the demon) I will curse their dreams with lines about shades of grey. AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY ALREADY LOVE EACH OTHER

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #neil gaiman #good omens 2 #ineffable divorce #good omens thoughts #aziraphale my beloved #aziraphale is such a bastard #aziraphale defense squad #good omens meta #hc #the final fifteen #season 2 #kaypost

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leahsgf · 17 days

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Can you write Alessia Russo x reader where reader has known her and Ella toone for years and is always watching their matches no matter what but reader and Alessia fall in love behind Ella’s back and then get found out?!

caught out

alessia russo x fem!reader

the way i started this in december and am just editing it now..

i loved writing this and am thinking of making it a mini series - so if you have any reqs for this ‘universe’ let me know! i’m up for anything

since before you could even remember, it had always been you and ella, the pair of you being practically attached at the hip from when you were babies, all the way up into adulthood. your bond only grew with time, and when she introduced you to alessia as young teenagers, the three of you very quickly became an absolutely inseparable trio - falling into eachother’s stride with ease.

you weren’t entirely sure where you ended and they begun.

even as you all got older and couldn’t physically see each other as much as you used to - with them both at the peaks of their careers, and the travel and demands that came alongside that, and you caught up in your own career - you still remained a solid unit. your family.

you didn’t play football, you never had, having always been the scrawny little kid who was terrified of pe lessons, earning yourself the lifelong nickname ‘tiny’, which still stuck even as a fully grown adult. but you were there for every single one of your girls’ moments. rain or shine, no matter what side of the world, or how busy you were with work, you’d be in the stands, cheering them on.

today was no different - finding yourself sat at wembley, a stadium you’d come to learn inside and out, to watch them play. you always adored being at games, seeing your girls flourish always made you want to burst with pride. and likewise, they loved having you there, always playing their best when you were in the crowd- branding you their ‘good luck charm’, and constantly bickering over whose jersey you’d wear to the matches.

being such a tight knit group, and having such a set routine when it came to games - alessia’s transfer to arsenal changed things for the three of you. many things, in fact.

for almost the entirety of the time you’d known them, they’d played for the same teams - the only exception prior to this being alessia’s college days. for you, it came as an adjustment, a new team to learn about so you’d be able to fully understand and appreciate her future stories, different games to go to, and the realisation that your two favourite people were going to play against eachother at some point. at multiple points.

this also meant that most of the time when you were going to one of their games, you wouldn’t see the other. this didn’t make a difference when it came to the times you would go to watch ella play, but with alessia, it changed things. it blurred lines that the pair of you had previously forced yourselves to draw, using ella as an almost reason, signifying the fact you were best friends, and that’s all it was.

in fact, you actually had no idea at what point exactly you and alessia became more than friends. from the secret stolen kisses at sleepovers as teenagers for ‘practice’ to the lingering glances and touches that lasted just a second longer than friendly ones should, you weren’t even sure that you had ever truly been just that.

however, with the sudden absence of the pair of your’s best friend, and the physical representation of the walls put between you, said wall came crashing down - within alessia’s first week at her new club.

your relationship very quickly blossomed from that moment, a decades worth of hidden, suppressed feelings from both sides pouring out.

despite how obviously in love with each other you were, you had been terrified to reveal it to the world, specifically your world, not wanting to lose, or even slightly affect your friendship with her.

the arsenal girls had figured it out instantly the first time they met you, and had been sworn to secrecy by a very flustered and panicked alessia, which made matters even worse, and made what you were doing feel like even more of a betrayal to your best friend.

the months of sneaking around and not being able to tell ella about a relationship you were in for the first time in your life was killing you, and the more time that passed made it more awkward to come out and say to her.

there had been many close calls that didn’t help your stressing over her reaction, from the one time you had to climb out of alessia’s bedroom window when ella unexpectedly showed up demanding a girls night after training, and then had to wait twenty minutes outside before going around to the front door to pretend you’d just arrived, to the time you’d had to practically leap apart mid drunken make out when you had hosted a group of your friends at your apartment and one of them stumbled into the kitchen without warning, and thankfully (for you, not for her) it was only leah.

your cheeks flushed furiously as alessia spun you around, her and ella both immediately finding you after the final whistle had blown, and the lionesses solidified their well earned win.

“see tooney our little good luck charm always comes in handy!” the blonde patted your head after releasing you from her grasp - giggling when ella immediately latched onto you in response, ordering you to ‘pick her up’ after you’d already caught her in your arms.

“my girls! this calls for celebrations, come on, we’re going out!” she yelled, almost ear piercingly loud - quite literally for you, as you foolishly held her right next to your ear.

there was a group of the younger players who always went out to party after wins, and you naturally went along every time - having known most of them for the same time you’d known your best friends, practically being an extra limb to either one of them.

you hung around the locker rooms waiting for them to change and shower, rolling your eyes at the winks and nudges of beth and leah as they passed you, and shoving them away - catching a glimpse of alessia and ella closely behind them, particularly focusing on the former’s panicked expression.

the journey back to the team’s hotel was one that could only be described as loud and chaotic. you were sat on your girlfriend’s lap, squished between her and the seat in-front of you, and ella was sat next to you, so close that it was practically a pile up.

thankfully, she was too busy bellowing an interesting rendition of ‘islands in the stream’ to notice the blonde’s hand on your hip, pulling you flush into her and drawing little hearts and stars onto the exposed skin from where your shirt had risen up.

you and your best friends had always been touchy, so you on one of their laps was a regular occurrence, therefore there was no way in your mind that ella could find out.

you were back and being ushered into their room to get ready for the night ahead before you knew it - desperately attempting not to blush furiously as alessia helped you top up your makeup, following ella’s strict orders so you could all match.

“right i need to find mary she said she’d curl my hair! less, remember what i said! i know how clumsy you are just follow what i told you, yeah? mary! mary!” she didn’t even give herself a chance to finish her own sentence before she was darting out of the room, voice echoing the corridor and most likely gaining a future noise complaint in the process.

not even a second after she was out of sight, alessia turned to you with a grin that only you could read - pulling you into her.

“oh i’ve been desperate to get you alone all week, i’ve missed you baby.” she grinned, throwing her arms around you and peppering kisses all over your face before finally meeting your lips.

you melted into her touch, instantly being returned home just by the slightest trace of her fingertips in your hair, and laughing as she playfully pushed you down onto the bed.

you barely had time to register her the feeling of her lips, and the comforting weight of her on top of you before the sound of a door being flung open and a following gasp hit your ears.

alessia practically flew off of you as you threw your head back onto the pillow and scrunched your eyes closed. you knew exactly who it was without even needing to look.

“el we can expl-”

“MARY YOU OWE ME SO MUCH MONEY!”

and she was gone just as fast as she stumbled in, cackling as mary groaned from the next room.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #lionesses x reader #lionesses #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader

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elodieunderglass · 1 month

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Hi! I was wondering if you could help me out with a word I've forgotten? I'm trying to remember the name for a concept that (I think) talks about how people better understand or process Things once they have vocabulary to describe it - I've heard it talked about in regards to the colour orange, or coercive control, etc.

long story short i've just read a paper saying ancient Greeks and Romans weren't racist bc they had no word for racism and am trying to form an argument against!

(no worries if this is unanswerable, i'm aware its a bit of a long shot but you struck me as a person who Knows Things)

That’s extremely kind and funny of you. i don’t know much but i am ok at synthesis.

I think you might be thinking of the concepts loosely called the “Sapir-Whorf hypothesis”, which describes something called “linguistic determinism.” This idea has been “disproven”, as it is just too reductionist as a concept - people are clearly perfectly capable of having experiences that are tough to describe with words. There will be plenty of papers showing how this reasoning is applied.

but it is still commonly thrown around and still considered a useful teaching framework. That’s why you’ll see it referenced online as if it is fresh, new, and applicable - people learn about it every year in college. Also, elements of the framework are probably perfectly sound. It definitely seems to be the case that language shapes brains; it just doesn’t seem to be the case that humans who don’t have specific words for them can’t experience orange, or the future.

(Many things in college are taught using teaching frameworks that may not be, technically, true; the framework is intended to give a critical structure for interpreting information. Then, when we later find evidence that disproves the hypothesis, that single piece of information doesn’t destroy our expensive college education; what we paid for is the framework. This is mostly frustrating in the sciences, when fresh crops of undergraduate students crash around on social media, grappling with their first exposure to (complex concept) and how it’s DIFFERENT to what they learned BEFORE and their teachers LIED TO EVERYBODY and they’re going to save the world from POP SCIENCE by telling the TRUTH. You’ll notice that these TOTALLY NEW INFORMATION reveals map along the semester schedule. The thing here is that getting new information, or information being different from what you were previously told, does not cancel out the fact that you are getting what you pay for - an education. Learning new facts that change our relationships to hypotheses isn’t a ✨huge betrayal ✨ , but the expected process of academia. Anyway.)

You have an interesting response here, and can start by looking at the ways that Sapir-Whorf has been disproved. There will be loads of literature on that.

However, it would be interesting to look at the argument as an unpicking of the other side’s rather weird, ritualistic superstitious belief that a behavior doesn’t exist if the creatures doing it can’t describe it. It is not on the ancient Greeks and Romans to categorise and interpret their behavior for a modern educated audience. They do not have the wherewithal to do so. They are also fucking dead. We can name the behaviors we see, and describe their impacts, however the hell we like.

Sure, the ancient Greeks used “cancer” to refer to lumpy veiny tumors. We can infer that they still had blood cancer, because their medical texts describe leukaemia and their corpses have evidence of it - they just didn’t know it was cancer. But we do, so we can call it cancer. Just because Homer said “the wine-dark sea” in a flight of girlish whimsy doesn’t mean he was unable to distinguish grape juice from saltwater, which we know, because we can observe that he was an intelligent wordsmith perfectly capable of talking about wine and oceans in other contexts. We are the people who get to stand at our point of history with our words, and name things like “this person probably died of leukaemia” and “poets say things that aren’t necessarily literal” and “this behaviour was racist” and “that’s gay” and “togas kinda slay tho” despite Ancient Greeks having different concepts of cancer, wittiness, prejudice, homosexuality, and slaying than we do today.

Now just to caveat that people do get muddled about the concept of racism. Our understanding of racism from here - this point of history, with these words, probably from the West - is heavily influenced by how we see racism around us today: white supremacy and the construct of “whiteness,” European colonial expansion, transatlantic chattel slavery, orientalism, evangelism, 20th century racial science, and so on. This is the picture of racism that really dominates our current discourse, so people often mistake it for the definition of racism. (Perhaps in a linguistic-deterministic sort of way after all.) As a result, muddled-up people often say things like “I can’t be racist because I’m not a white American who throws slurs at black American people,” while being an Indian person in the UK who votes for vile anti-immigration practices, or a Polish person with a horrible attitude about the Roma. Many people genuinely hold this very kindergarten idea of racism; if your opponent does as well, they’re probably thinking something like “Ancient Greek and Roman people didn’t have a concept of white supremacy, because whiteness hadn’t been invented yet, so how could they be racist?” And that’s unsound reasoning in a separate sense.

Racism as the practice of prejudice against an ethnicity, particularly one that is a minority, is a power differential that is perfectly observable in ancient cultures. The beliefs and behaviors will be preserved in written plays, recorded slurs, beauty standards, reactions to foreign marriages, and travel writing. The impacts will be documented in political records, trade agreements, the layouts of historical districts of ancient towns.

You don’t need permission to point out behaviours and impacts. You can point them out in any words you like. You can make up entirely new words to bully the ancient romans with. You are the one at this point of history and your words are the ones that get used.

Pretending that “words” are some kind of an intellect-obscuring magical cloud in the face of actual evidence is just a piece of sophistry (derogatory) on the part of your opponent here. It’s meant to be a distraction. You can dismiss this very flimsy shield pretty quickly and get them in the soft meat of them never reading anything about the actual material topic, while they’re still looking up dictionary definitions or whatever.

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