I'm Sick - Tumblr Posts
DCxDP Prompt
Allergy Season
“Aa, aaa, aaaa choo! Ugh.”
“Danny. Just take the medicine.” Jazz said in frustration as she crossed her arms and glared at Danny.
“Oh come on Jazz. It's just some allergies. I'm fine.” Danny grumbled then sneezed again.
“Tell that to the wall you just iced over. Just take the stupid medicine.” Jazz growled while pointing at the bottle she had brought in earlier.
“Oh cool it Jazz. I don't want to take the medicine. Besides, what's the worst that could haaaachoo!” Danny rubbed his nose and looked up to keep talking to Jazz only to see a giant window into space. “Oh this is so cooaaaachooo!”
…
“Did anyone else see a kid sneeze into existence then sneeze again and disappear?” The Flash asked from his position at the meeting table.
“Did the kid have white hair, glowing green eyes, and a spandex suit? If so than yes. I saw them too.” Green Arrow replied.
“Hnn.” Batman grunted before getting up and leaving the room.
“What you want to bet he's going to file for adoption?” Green Lantern joked as he elbowed Superman.
“Oh come on. He is not that bad.” Wonder Woman said from Superman’s other side.
“Just in case, I'm gonna go check on him.” Superman chuckled nervously before taking off after Batman.
Do you know what I hate about my water bottle? It’s too good, like, I put in hot tea and then forget about it, only for 10 hours later it’s just warm. Still warm. STILL FUCKING WARM. HOW THE FUCK??? The bottle itself is cold as ice! How the fuck is this tea still warm? Wtf? Do you know how many times I’ve burned my mouth thinking it’ll be cold tea? But then it’s still roiling hot? What the hell man!
Me: It must be nearly SPRING because for the first time in a long time I am home and I am WARM and TOASTY.
My Brain: You live in a badly-heated and appallingly-insulated flat. It’s February in London. You are sick, and you are running a temperature.
Me:...which makes me WARM and TOASTY.
My head hurts and I want to cry because of snakes. I mean, look at them!!
They are just so adorable
Everything hurts.
Everything hurts so much.
I can't see clearly and ot's too bright.
It's too much.
I want tea and I want to complain to someone about everything and I want someone to hold me while I'm shaking and coughing.
I don't want to be alone while feeling like the end is coming.
I can't really breath.
I want someone to care and be here.
Painnnnnnn
Someone please knock me out so I don't have to feel this anymore
Turns out I'm not a pussy after all, I actually have a really bad infection and have to go to the hospital in a few days, yippee!!
But, hey, at least I didn't waste the doctor's time.
Double it and give it to the next person
i think what makes my stomach turn the most is how much of arthur was known and learnt by merlin. entire world's full of sadness, grief, anger, happiness, joy, love. he knew all of it, was there for most of it. he knew that man inside and out, better than arthur knew himself. merlin, god, merlin knew every little bit of him. literally. and arthur only got as much as merlin could give. as much as merlin was allowed. it's like they were in the same room, separated by glass. merlin could see arthur clear as day, whilst arthur stared through something that was all but a double sided mirror, only bits and pieces visible, the rest of it just reflecting himself.
Howdy. I’m sick rn and very bored so if anyone sees this, you should send me an ask. Like send me literally anything. Tell me about a weirdly specific opinion, or your really niche special interest. Consider this an excuse to send me five paragraphs of the elaborate lore of a thing you like. Ask me about my various interests if you want (Kirby/analog horror/tma, ect). I just love to talk and I want something to do.
press play! (bnd) ˚ · .
bnd as male leads , ot6 , fluff , slight angst , movie/film tropes, loosely (!!!) inspired by random movies/dramas/books i've seen and read (with song recs <3)
more under the cut!
a/n: me pretending that all of these are real dramas so i can escape into my silly little fantasy land >___^ <3 also thank you so much for 400+ followers!!! i know i haven't been as active lately, but seeing the sweet messages in my inbox and your genuine reblogs keeps me going for sure. i don't deserve all of this love and support, and yet, i've managed to find my place here. thank you guys!!! my little strawberries ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆<333
sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "i have no idea why i like you, but i do" lead
university, streetlights, jackets, sunsets, fond eye rolls, sharing books, lunch dates, faint smiles, polar opposites, long calls, gardens, bouquets, lattes, butterflies
to put it simply, you are somehow everything sungho tries his best to avoid in life. disorganization, clumsiness, carelessness, and above all, making a fool of himself; four things you seem to have perfected. you always show up to lectures 30 minutes late, panting heavily as you clutch your backpack to your chest. your professor and everyone else in your course is used to your tardiness by now, so no one bats an eye—but when the only available seat left is next to sungho himself, he starts to mind. first, you ask him for a pencil, and then, you ask him what’s going on, and then you ask him how his handwriting is so neat. sungho responds to you in curt words, never sparing a glance your way as he tries his best to keep his focus on the lecture. but you keep. asking. him. questions.
he knows that you aren’t dumb. you somehow managed to get accepted into this school under a rigorous major, and you haven’t dropped out so far, so there’s no way you don’t know how to keep up. in a way, he sees you as a little yapping chihuahua who laughs way too loudly, and he sighs everytime you wave brightly to him across campus, cupping your hands around your mouth to tell him to wait up so you guys can walk to class together. it seems as if you’ve already claimed yourself to be his friend after your limited, brief interactions. great.
somehow you always manage to find him when he's studying at a cafe, pulling out the chair in front of him to plop down and pester him about what he's up to (and you always manage to convince him to buy you coffee just so you can leave sooner). you purposefully take the spot next to him everytime you show up to class, nudging hi sfoot under the table so you can pull a funny face at him or sneak him a lollipop under the table.
sungho likes to believe that he’s indifferent to you. you’re just another obstacle he has to navigate through in order to finish his day. but he realizes you may have struck a little deeper into his heart than he originally thought when he notices you sitting solemnly on a bench on his walk back to his apartment. you’re dressed up in a nice outfit and he can tell you’ve put in a lot of effort to your appearance, but under the glow of the streetlights, he notices your smeared mascara and wet cheeks, your purse clutched tightly between your fingers. you’re mumbling to yourself as you fiercely wipe at your face with the back of your hand, something about “that asshole” and how you’re “so dumb”. sungho doesn’t know what comes over him as he hears those words, but he finds himself stopping directly in front of you, watching as you slowly tilt your head up to meet his eyes.
“you’re not dumb,” he says, staring down at you with such sincerity. you sniffle a bit, tilting your head at his figure in a confused manner.
“sungho? what are you doing here?” you ask quietly, your voice shaky as you try to stop your tears.
“you aren’t dumb,” he repeats again. “it’s late. you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”
you don’t respond other than blinking owlishly at him. in this moment, he realizes how beautiful your eyes are, glimmering despite the tears pooling at your waterline. a cord in him strikes; he doesn’t like seeing you without a smile on your face.
sungho shrugs off his jacket before leaning down to drape it over your shoulders, giving you a soft smile before offering his hand out to you. “may i walk you home?”
and from that day on, sungho seems to have opened up his heart to you. he asks if you want to visit a cafe after class, helps you catch up in schoolwork, his eyes lingering on your bright smile—and each minute he spends with you, he falls for you more and more. he’s not sure how you feel about him; he can’t read you quite yet, and he’s not quite sure why he likes you so much, but he thinks it’ll be worth the wait, as long as he gets to be by your side.
˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo - the "i'll look after you, no matter what" lead
bustling city, dinner dates, gentle hands, puppies, headlights, midnight talks, watching the stars, wishes upon dandelions, breakfast in bed
it’s riwoo’s second year working at this company—and subsequently, his second year dealing with his inconsiderate seniors and selfish boss. so when you, the new, sparkly-eyed intern, are assigned two giant stacks of paperwork to go through on your first day, riwoo immediately empathizes with you. when it starts to grow dark and most of your coworkers begin clocking out, you find yourself trapped at your tiny desk with at least 3 more hours worth of work to do.
you’re basically falling asleep, your eyelids slipping shut every few seconds before you finally doze off. riwoo watches you from across the office and some part of him feels guilty at the thought of leaving you all alone here. so instead, he makes you a cup of coffee and brings you a snack, placing it quietly at your desk. he even leaves a few sugar packets next to the mug because he’s unsure of how sweet you like your drink.
and then he waits. he exhaustedly types away at his keyboard, his knee bouncing under his desk to keep himself awake. you finally wake up an hour later with a tiny yawn, stretching in your chair before sleepily blinking at the scene in front of you. he watches as your eyes widen at the coffee and snack before looking around the office, locking eyes with him above his computer screen. he gives you a small smile and wave, to which you return, mouthing out a ‘thank you’. if you’re going to be working overtime, he’ll be there with you.
and it becomes a thing. riwoo makes sure you eat as you work through the mistreatment from your boss, comforting you when you stress cry in the breakroom, taking you out for dinner when you clock out and making sure you get home safe with a small reminder to get some sleep. you find yourself falling his selflessness. he works through those sleepless nights with you, cheering you on with shy smiles and quiet encouragement. before you know it, riwoo becomes your rock.
as you wait for the bus to head home, riwoo jogs up to you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath.
“riwoo, hi,” you greet with a small, tired smile. riwoo’s cheeks are flushed red, his hands tucked deep into his pockets as he returns your smile with a weak one.
“hey, y/n. i just, um… i wanted to ask you something before you leave…” he starts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. your bus is nearing your stop in the distance, so you stand, adjusting the bag on your shoulder.
“yeah, what’s up?” you ask, meeting riwoo’s eyes. they’re big and round, glossy as the headlights of passing cars speed by. your heart flutters in your chest at just the sight of him.
“i was wondering if i could take you out? on a date, i mean,” he stumbles out, pressing his lips into a thin line once the words escape.
“like a date date?” you clarify. you guys hang out all the time and you have to admit that you’ve started to want more. riwoo is the sweetest, most giving person you’ve ever met and you think you’re already in too deep.
“yeah. a date date.” at his words, your entire face lights up, quickly nodding your head as you answer.
“i would love to.” right then, your bus pulls up to a stop, so you give him a tiny smile, motioning toward the doors. “ i’ll call you when i get home, okay?”
“okay. yeah,” he breathes out with the brightest smile on his lips. “get home safely.”
“i will!” you wave enthusiastically through the doors before they close behind you and riwoo watches you through the windows with a small smile until your bus disappears down the road, his heart light in his chest.
from there, one date turns into two. and then two into three. and then suddenly, you’re at his apartment playing with his puppies while he cooks you guys breakfast, the sunlight beaming through his sheer curtains. even if the weight of the world is falling on your shoulders, you deem it impossible to feel down around your ray of sunshine.
riwoo always waits with you for your bus, letting you rant to him about your day, or things you're interest in, or to just tease him about how he dropped a stack of papers that day. and you never forget to text him when you get home, going to sleep with a smile on your face as you reread the long paragraph he sends to you about how proud he is of you and how he can't wait to see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. in this big city full of hustle, bustle and noise, he is your solace.
jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "everyone wants me, but i want you" lead
road trips, rooftop hangouts with friends, bright smiles, street vendors, shared hoodies, soccer games, skateboards, sparklers, bonfires, sunny days
ever since you moved onto campus for university, you’ve had a crush on myung jaehyun. from his silly smiles, to his friendly nature, to his cute nose and cheeks. you like everything about him. the only problem is that everyone loves myung jaehyun—in fact, you can’t name a single person that doesn’t know and love him. so you’ve managed to keep your feelings to yourself for the longest.
you were in the same friend group from the very start, with your roommate dating his roommate, the intermingling of your circles was bound to happen. and in all honesty, you couldn’t wish for a better group of people to be around. you guys always go on road trips together, visiting different cities and towns to sightsee and explore. you attend jaehyun’s soccer games with your friends, cheering him on from the sidelines only to celebrate with drinks in someone’s dorm room after another win. the proximity is inevitable, and the first two years of college pass by before you can even blink. by the end of your second year, you and jaehyun became closer than you would’ve ever thought. but it always remained at that. close friends.
it’s the night of your friend group’s annual bonfire—something you’ve been looking forward to all year. you’ve been worrying about your future: what would happen when you graduate college, whether you would move away or not, would jaehyun ever like you back. but mid-summer is your favorite, especially when the tide is low, everyone has sparklers and drinks, and the night air is light and fun. your bathing suit clings to your skin after your friends had splashed sea water on your earlier, but you don’t mind it. it’s a break from your own thoughts.
you notice jaehyun sitting in the sand near the bonfire, shivering a bit, so you grab an abandoned blanket from someone else’s chair and skip over to him. when you drape it over his shoulders from behind, he looks up at you, his eyes scrunching up with the smile that overtakes his face at the sight of you.
“hey,” he speaks, looking you up and down. you feel your body heat up under your skin, returning the smile with a small one of your own before taking a seat next to him.
“hey. you okay?” you ask, your eyes searching his face. usually, jaehyun is at the center of all the action, but tonight, he seems quieter than usual. the bonfire is warm on your skin, illuminating the sand in front of you.
“yeah, i’m okay. just thinking,” he says weakly, flashing you a tiny smile before looking back at the fire.
“about what?” you pry, bumping him with your shoulder. he looks especially good tonight, with his wet hair and soaked t-shirt, his tanned skin washed in a hue from the fire. you’re snapped out of your gazing when he speaks, though.
“you,” he says bluntly. he doesn’t look at you, but you’re staring holes into the side of head.
“what about me?” you nearly whisper, your voice almost drowned out by the loud laughter of your friends at the shore. jaehyun watches the fire for a bit before he turns to look at you again, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t quite put your finger on.
“how pretty you look. how pretty you always look,” he says. you scoff at his words, bumping his shoulder again.
“stop playing around, jaehyun. i almost thought you were being serious,” you nervously laugh, looking down at the sand.
“but i am,” he replies quickly. “i am being serious. you’re beautiful.”
when you meet his eyes again, they’re boring into yours with an intensity you’ve never felt before. something so foreign and yet familiar at the same time. you can’t do anything but whisper a thank you before your friends are rushing over to drag you guys back to the water. some part of you is unsure of whether that was just another passing comment made by jaehyun. he jokingly flirts with his friends all the time. what difference would it be when it’s towards you?
but when jaehyun texts you the next morning to meet him on the beach, and you see an entire picnic set up with flowers on the sand, you realize that maybe he wasn’t joking. he’s standing there with his arms awkwardly spread out in a ‘ta-da’ manner, a shy smile on his lips as you near him. the sun isn’t fully risen yet, so the sky is still slightly orange near the horizon. he looks softer like this, with his puffy morning cheek and his messy hair.
he confesses that your friends gave him the extra push to confess and helped him set everything up for you. over chocolate covered strawberries and french toast, he finally confesses that he’s had a crush on you this entire time and almost went crazy from keeping it a secret. the morning started with shy gazes, soft touches, and laced fingers as the ocean waves lulled you. with your head rested on his shoulder, you finally feel content. maybe the future won’t be so bad.
˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan - the "everything sucks, except you" lead
big school, skipping stones, handwritten notes, late-night bus rides, comfortable silence, dirty shoes, convenience stores, headphones, lingering gazes
han taesan always tries to stay out of the spotlight. he keeps his head down, his hood up, and his headphones on—in a way, he feels like if he can disappear from other people’s lives, it wouldn’t be so hard to disappear from himself either. he doesn’t have any friends, and if anything, people seem to act like he doesn’t exist at all. he’s okay with that. it’s comfortable. that is, until you come along.
he’s not sure how he’s never noticed you at first. maybe it’s because you’re just like him; you stay out of the way, you don’t speak to anyone, and you’re simply going through the motions. he’s not even sure if you go to the same school. he first sees you on a late bus ride home, near the back. your head is leaning on the window, your face blank and solemn, with one earbud in your ear as you watch the passing city through a blur. taesan doesn’t know what it is about you that intrigues him. let it be the way your sweater is a few sizes too big, or the melancholic look in your eyes, or the way those same eyes meet him from across the bus, piercing and inquisitive.
he sees you again at the convenience store a week later, pushing around noodles in a cup with your cheek in your palm, staring down at your food with no intentions of taking a bite. even in the harsh lighting of the store, your face stops him in his tracks. your eyes follow him as he pretends to not notice your stare, his heart pounding in his ears with every movement. and when he makes it up to the counter to pay, you’re gone, as if you were never there in the first place.
he doesn’t see you again for a while; not until he runs into you on his walk home, sitting on a swing at a vacant park. your shoelaces are untied, and you’re watching the way they flow in the wind. your unreadable gaze intrigues him in ways he’s never felt before. he’s always told himself to not get involved, to not get attached, and to not get in the way. but his feet seem to have a mind of their own as they drag themselves towards you. the sound of his shoes against concrete catches your attention, and he watches with shallow breaths as you lift your head to face him.
“your… your shoes are… um, untied,” he stutters out, moving his headphones to rest around his neck before pointing at your laces. you don’t say anything, but you do follow his gaze down to your shoes, cocking your head.
“can you tie them for me?”
the request is odd, especially for the first words he ever hears you speak, but he finds himself unable to decline. he kneels down by your shoes before taking a quick glance up at your face, his palms growing sweaty with the way you watch him. with shaky fingers, he helps you tie your shoes before he stands back up, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“you, um… i see you around a lot. what’s your name?” he doesn’t know why he asks, but some part of him is overwhelmed by curiosity. he knows why he is the way he is, but with you… you’re an anomaly that eats at his mind. he wants to know you.
“y/n,” you say quietly, looking up at him from your position on the swing. taesan nods with pursed lips, averting his gaze for a second.
“i’m taesan.” when he speaks, the corners of your lips perk up ever so slightly, nodding softly in acknowledgement. something about your faint smile makes his stomach churn and his head spin. he decides then and there that he would like to see you more often; and subsequently, your smile too.
“nice to meet you, taesan.”
“nice to meet you, too. y/n.”
from there, you guys meet every now and then. taesan likes to place his headphones over your ears to show you new songs, and you like to share earbuds on the bus ride home together. he slips little notes about his day in your pocket before you get off with a little p.s. to meet him at the park before sunset. you pick clovers and tie them together to make bracelets, sitting on the swings as you bounce conversation back and forth.
there’s no judgment from the outside world in the little bubble that you’ve created with him. and if he starts falling for you with every curious gaze and passing smile, he barely notices the shift. with you , existing becomes natural. there’s no guilt, or shame, or need to hide from yourself. it’s you both against the world.
leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "i wouldn't mind living with you" lead
new to town, seashell necklaces, oceanviews, birds in trees, sunrises, midday strolls, the youngests in the neighborhood, cooking together, white t-shirts + flannels
it’s not easy living in a new town, far away from the city that you grew up in, but you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. you wake up the the sound of beach waves and boats docking, the grandmas of the neighborhood leave fresh food on your doorstep, and you get to gawk at the beautiful man that always seems to be at the shore collecting seashells. he’s the only person near your age in the entire town, but for some reason, you haven’t spoken to him yet. maybe it’s because of the way that he’s always alone at the shore, or running around the town helping everyone he can.
leehan, they call him. a few of the grandmas have encouraged you to talk to him, saying that it’d do him well to have a friend his age. yet, something about him is unapproachable—let it be because of his long wavy hair or those flannels he wears way too often. you can’t place your finger on it. so you stick to admiring his bright smile from afar, taking in the way he speaks with fishermen as if he grew up in the water himself, or the way he assists the grandmas in caring their groceries home. he’s entrancing, moving with swiftness and speaking with intention. an aura of confidence follows him around like a glowing shadow. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a small, small crush on him by now.
you sit at the beach with your knees pulled up to your chest, the soft breeze kissing your cheeks as you gaze out at the water, the sun sparkling against its gentle waves. moments like these remind you why you moved here. your escape. although, you’re too wrapped up in soaking up the atmosphere to notice the figure moving to sit beside you, and the clinking of seashells is what pulls you out of your trance. you jump a bit at the sun block of sunshine, shielding your eyes to look up at the culprit.
the handsome, handsome culprit who’s currently holding something out towards you with a small smile on his lips, the wind blowing his long hair into his face. in the midst of your shock, you manage to drag your eyes down to his hand—it’s a handmade necklace, made of white string and polished shells from the shore. the shells are an assortment of light blues, whites, and pinks, perfectly complimenting each other, replicating where the setting sun meets the sea. it’s gorgeous.
“made something for you,” he starts, his smile lopsided and charming. his head is cocked in a playful way, his eyes slightly squinted from the bright sun. he’s even more gorgeous up close. “y/n, right?”
“uh, yeah,” you stutter out, too distracted by the way the sun hits his face so perfectly.
“i realized i haven’t given you a proper welcome yet,” leehan speaks as he hands you the necklace, his voice deep and gentle. your eyes flickered back up to his sparkling ones, quickly shaking your head in dismissal.
“oh! no, it’s okay. i’ve seen you around enough times,” you laugh as you avoid his eyes again, running your fingers over the shells. leehan hums in response, his eyes watching your fingers. alone like this, up close, his atmosphere is affable and soft—nothing like the unapproachable man you’ve seen from afar.
“so, are you liking it here? i heard you moved from the city.”
“i do like it here, actually. i couldn’t ask for more,” you speak, finding his eyes again. leehan’s are curious, sincere, and inviting in all the ways that makes you want to keep speaking. so you do. you tell him about why you came here, how you’re starting a-new and leehan, with a wide smile, offers to be your personal guide around town.
you end up meeting up every morning for a walk by the beach, watching the sunrise as you exchange stories about anything and everything. leehan teaches you how he makes necklaces from seashells, his favorite recipes to cook, and where to find the quietest spots in town when you just need a break from it all. you’re falling for him—with his chivalrous, kind-hearted nature and warm smile—but you don’t mind it at all. you really do like it here; especially if he’ll be around too.
˚ ⋆｡˚ woonhak - the "i'm secretly in love with my best friend" lead
small town, childhood best friends, neighbors, growing up together, coming of age, grassy fields, tiny markets, bicycles, fireflies, shorts + graphic tees
woonhak's big smile has been a constant in your life for as long as you can remember. some of your earliest members are of making mudpies and catching fireflies in jars together, playing tag in the long grassy fields that border your town. you guys are partners in crime, drawing silly pictures in chalk outside of your neighbor’s houses or riding your bikes down to the store to buy all of the mango popsicles in stock with your pocket money.
in your eyes, woonhak is just… woonhak. he is familiar. existing with woonhak was as easy as breathing to you. you remember teasing him when you lost your first tooth before him because it proved that you were going to be more mature than him, or when you took your training wheels off first.
your parents are best friends, and it also helps that he lives directly next to you. you guys have sleepovers all the time, using flashlights under the blankets as you pull funny faces at each other, sharing stories about past crushes or what show you’re currently watching. woonhak knows everything about you and you know everything about him.
your favorite spot to meet up is the flower field behind your house. the grass is so tall, it reaches up to woonhak’s chest, the flowers spotting the green with blooms of yellows, pinks, and purples. it’s quiet there, and you guys are free to discuss whatever and whoever. that’s where you are when you’re watching the stars one night with woonhak by your side, his arms tucked behind his head. you mirror him as you talk about something woonhak did earlier that week.
“you’re so cute, hakkie. still the same after all these years,” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand so your voice doesn’t echo too loud. at your words, woonhak sighs, a big one that catches your attention. “huh? what’s wrong?”
woonhak shakes his head, looking straight up at the sky. “i just… sometimes you say things and it reminds me that you still see me as a kid.”
you turn your head toward him at that in confusion. “what are you talking about?”
“y/n, what am i to you? honestly.” his words come out so quick, you don’t have time to linger on the sharpness in his voice.
“you’re… you’re my best friend, woonhak,” and you’re telling the truth. the answer is simple. woonhak is your best friend.
woonhak is silent for a bit, the crickets and frogs in the distance filling in the lack of noise. his gaze is far off as he stares up at the night sky, his body framed by grass and flowers. for the first time in your life, you can’t read his mind and it terrifies you.
“we are best friends, right?” when he remains silent and your heart drops a bit. “woonhak?”
suddenly then, he turns his head towards you, the side of his face illuminated by the glow of moonlight. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his cheeks flushed red from the humidity of summer nights.
“what if i wanted to be more than that?” he whispers, his gaze locked intensely on yours. you feel your heart stop in your chest, your palms growing sweaty from more than just the heat.
“more… more than best friends…?” you repeat dumbly. it’s as if you’re short-circuiting, all of the words that were once on your tongue dying off one by one.
“i…” woonhak sighs dejectedly, turning back up to face the sky. “i like you. i like like you. a lot.”
at the words, something in you clicks. something about the way your eyes always linger on his bright smile when he shows up on your doorsteps at the crack of dawn. something about the way your stomach churned when that girl from fourth period asked woonhak out last year. something about the way he links your pinkies together when you walk side by side, and the way he cups your face when you cry to him, and the way he holds you with so much security and love.
your lips move faster than your mind, sitting up quickly to look down at him with a wide grin. “i like you too. i like like you, woonhak. a lot. too.”
you aren’t sure what any of this means for your relationship, or for your future—but as woonhak laces your fingers together to press a small kiss to the back of your hand, any worry or doubt dissolves with the wind. you’re here now with him and for you, that could be more than enough. more than you’ve ever dreamed of.
reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3
masterlist
just drank theraflu followed by caffeine so i’m feeling
✨Festive✨
Bro goes honey on my cheerio till I nut
Guys I think i caught something, I had to go home from school because I was shivering, had a high temp, runny nose, my throat hurt, my everything felt tingly for no reason, my nerves were very sensitive (idk if that’s like the proper way to explain it) I’ve just been under a heated blanket for two hours knocked out and I still have goosebumps and I feel weird and my heads weird idk-
But I’m sorry that the two people that find interest in my character talks (looking at you @spheroz 🤩) that I will probably not get the Michael Varus post out in a while, and that my Bryce Lawerence post wasn’t my finest work, I was half asleep while finishing it.
Thank the Gods for autocorrect while writing this, and let’s hope I feel better because I still have like 3 more pages to write for my English assignment.
I miss talking to people.
I’m so sorry.
I want to hug you rn. BUT IM SICK. ON PRIDE MONTH. you wouldn't probably let me do that anyway. BUT I STILL WANT TO DO IT.
Take me in your arms (Miss Heroin)
By: unknown
So now, little man, you've grown tired of grass
LSD, goofballs, cocaine and hash,
And someone,pretending to be a true friend,
said, "I'll introduce you to Miss Heroin".
Well honey, before you start fooling with me,
Just let me inform you of how it will be.
For I will seduce you and make you my slave,
I've sent men much stronger than you to their graves,
You think you could never become a disgrace,
And end up addicted to poppy seed waste.
So you'll start inhaling me one afternoon,
you'll take me to your arms very soon.
And once I've entered deep down in your veins,
The craving will nearly drive you insane.
You'll swidle your mother, just for a buck
You'll turn into something vile and corrupt,
You'll mug and you'll steal for my narcotic charm
And feel contentment when I'm in your arms.
The day you'll realize the monster you've grown,
You'll solemly swear to live me alone.
If you think you've got that mystical knack,
Then sweetie, just try getting me off your back.
The vomit, the cramps, your gut tied in knots,
The jangling nerves screaming for one more shot,
The hot chills and cold sweats and withdrawl pains,
That can only be saved by my white little grains.
There is no other way, and there is no need to look,
For deep down inside, you know you are hooked.
You'll despretly run to the pushers and then,
You'll welcome me back to your arms once again.
And you will return, just as I foretold!
I know that you'll give me your body and soul.
You'll give up your morals, your conscience, your heart,
And you will be mine 'till death do us part.