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Layla and Sheila, my twin paranormal investigators!

Queen's Thief New Year Oracle📜🪶🕯️🌿

In a lost volume of his Memories, Pheris Erondites related a dream he had in which the goddess Moira taught him how to predict one's fortune in the coming year. Now I will relate to you this most excellent, totally serious & trustworthy method of divination*:

First of all, you should take the number of letters that form your preferred name, and add to that number the age you will be at the 00:00 hour of the next year according to your time zone. For example:

P H E R I S = 6 letters And he was 45 years old when he wrote this method down, so 6 + 45 = 51

Then, ask yourself how many beautiful earrings you would offer on Moira's altar in exchange to have your fortune told, and add this number to the one you already have.

Pheris's own answer was 1, which was the number of earrings he had in his possession at the time. Using it as an example, we have:

51 + 1 = 52

Then keep adding the numbers among themselves until you get a single number from 1 to 9! For example:

5 + 2 = 7

Now that you have a single digit, click on the page corresponding to it on the list below, and have your new year's fortune revealed to you:

if your number was 1

if your number was 2

if your number was 3

if your number was 4

if your number was 5

if your number was 6

if your number was 7

if your number was 8

if your number was 9

Have a good new year, and be blessed in your endeavors!

________________________________________________________

*This oracle is just a joke; please don't take the result seriously!

a charmer 

tysm for taking ur time to write this !!!

it’s so beautiful 🫶🫶

⪩.⪨ — KITTY LOVE! ҂ lee minho oneshot

SYNOPSIS! there's this craze about puppy love that everyone seems to enjoy. however, you find that you don't quite get what the fuss is all about. you are way more interested in your cat-like neighbour who seems cold and kind of annoying. the boy who acts like everyone's existence burdens him to no end but quietly takes care of the elderly lady on your block, helps children back to their feet when they fall, and holds the elevator door so it doesn't close on you.

PAIRING! lee minho x fem!reader

GENRES! boy next door au, strangers to (very brief and one-sided) enemies to lovers, fluff, some angst, minho is a tease but he can get away with it bc he's cute.

WARNINGS! swearing, brief mentions of reader being a bit insecure about dating, suggestive themes but no smut, minho turns eggs into an innuendo, i think i got the gender of minho's cats right??? but i could be wrong, so sry about that if that's the case fkfjskshsj. please do tell me if i missed any!

WORD COUNT! 11k

A.N! if you see me reposting this bc it didn't show up in the tags when i first posted it and as the attention whore that i am i can't have that no you didn't :_) as always, english is not my first language so i apologise if there are any mistakes! i hope you enjoy it!

“and when are you going to get a boyfriend, dear?”

you sigh in an attempt to keep your cool and not lash out to your mom. you know she means good; she always does, especially when it comes to you. but it's like older relatives never know how tiring this whole “you should get a boyfriend” conversation is. why do you need a boyfriend anyway? sure, you've had a fair share of crushes growing up, but they were never serious enough for you to want to do anything about them. and it has been enough for you, it just has. what's so difficult to understand about a person being completely okay with being single?

“i've already told you, mom. whenever it happens, it happens. and until then i'm not going to force myself to find someone.”

“i know, i know.” you hear your mom sigh at the other end of the line. she clearly doesn't agree with your position on this, but she always respects your decisions. you are glad for that. “it's just that i feel like you won't be able to meet anyone in that new place of yours.” you know exactly what she means by that.

it's been a month since you moved to your current apartment. your previous one was a shabby, tiny thing that was overpriced with the excuse of it being placed right on the city centre. your new place, on the other hand, is on the outskirts of the city, but it's much more spacious, and it's not falling apart by the moment. you don't mind putting up with long bus rides to get to your workplace. in fact, you enjoy the peace and quiet, the time it gives you to organise your thoughts on your way to work or wherever you may be going. and there's a supermarket relatively near your place, so you can't complain about that. it's safe to say that you're a lot happier with your new home, but your mom just can't see that. she's too busy thinking about when you're going to bring a son-in-law for her and your dad to meet or when you're going to give them grandchildren, even if you consider yourself far too young to even be considering marriage or children. that's why she liked your old place. it was near all the popular clubs and bars, giving you the perfect chance to mingle; a chance you never took in all the time you lived there.

you think something's not right. like, you know something is definitely wrong in your life when your mom is hinting at you that you should spend more time partying at questionable places in order to get laid.

and you wish this was a “your mom” thing, but your friends have similar opinions to hers. sure, they don't want to rush you into marriage and children at every chance they have, but they have told you several times that a relationship would probably add happiness to your life. that it's strange how they've never seen you head over heels for anyone ever since they've known you.

your feet softly thud against the wooden flooring of your living room as you walk to your window, feeling like you need the pretty view to calm yourself enough to get through this call. as you move the curtain to get a better view of the park that's a couple of blocks away, you catch sight of your neighbour walking along the street, heading to your block, presumably getting back home from somewhere. you recognise him from a time you were just getting to your place and he suddenly came out of his, rushing down the stairs.

suddenly, a child appears running down the street and trips right beside him. you see him help the little boy back to his feet, dust off the dirt from his knees and ruffle his hair with a smile before resuming his walk back home. you smile.

you blame your mom and your friends when what you've just seen makes you say:

“i don't know mom, love happens at unexpected times and places.” that's unlike you, you aren't that much of a romantic. you know that much, and you know that your mom knows that much, so you don't give her a chance to say anything. “look, i have to get some work done, but i'll call you again tomorrow. love, you, mom! bye!” and you hang up on her.

love? sure, your neighbour is cute, and he seems pretty nice, but you don't even know the guy's name. you don't even know why you mentioned love in the first place.

famous last words.

a few days later, you're on cleaning duty around your apartment. you've got some dusting and sweeping and mopping to do, as well as some windows to clean. some meaning all. not to mention the good scrubbing that the tub needs. well, “needs” is a bit of a strong word; you could probably go for a few days more without doing anything, but you're a bit of a clean freak, so your place has to be spotless all the time for you to be happy. which means that you're properly attired to get this shit done with the most worn-out pyjamas that you own, some crappy flip flops and an unidentifiable hairstyle that does the job of keeping your hair out of your face but probably makes you look like birds live on top of your head. and cleaning day means something else.

you have music blasting through your whole house.

you think it's a good thing that your neighbours haven't told you off so far; you assume they don't mind the occasional loud music from you, or they would have done so in the month that you've already been living here. they haven't complained about you singing at the top of your lungs either, so either they're cool about it, or they meet each week to plan your murder. whatever the case, you're here for a good time, not a long time, so you will take the chance of giving a mini concert for yourself while you clean while you can.

except, the “for yourself” part doesn't actually exist. it's just an illusion created by your senses, a scam, a fallacy. you just don't know it yet.

you're currently standing on top of a chair in the tiny balcony of your living room, and to any outsider it might look like you have a death wish against the poor glass doors with how furiously you're wiping them.

your next door neighbour, lee minho, certainly thinks it must look like that to anyone who isn't within hearing range as he is. he himself would have thought so too if it weren't for the way you're cheerfully singing along 22 by taylor swift. minho's house is structured the exact same way as yours, and his living room has a tiny balcony of its own, which is where he's watching you from with a mug of coffee in his hand and an amused grin adorning his features. you're so entranced with your current task at hand, the song you're singing to or both that you don't even notice the boy in the balcony next to yours. he doesn't want to be a creep though, he just decided to stand there a moment longer because you two haven't actually crossed paths yet and he knows you've been living in the block for a while, so he was curious about you.

and he sure is pleased with how... interesting of a neighbour you seem to be. so he just lets his gaze linger for a moment longer and goes back inside to save him the accusation of being a stalker and you the embarrassment of knowing someone is hearing you when this clearly looks like a one person activity.

the image of you stays with minho for a good part of the day, and each time he remembers a smile threatens to take over his face.

however, another week goes by before you actually see each other.

you're going back to your place in the unbearable heat of mid-july and carrying three very heavy bags with your groceries. you consider getting your groceries delivered to your place next time, and then you feel guilty for whoever you'd be putting through this hell for a shitty salary. you give up on having groceries without suffering the heat, but right now you have more pressing matters at hands. you still have a few minutes to your house and you don't trust your abilities to get there without melting into a puddle on your way. if it's any indication, your underboob is already sweating. you hate it here.

by some divine working, you get to your block in one piece, and the sound of relief you let out when you get through the main door is ungodly. you think this hell of a ride is over until you catch sight of the elevator.

oh hell no.

cute neighbour guy is inside idly looking at his phone and the doors are starting to close. now, you don't have much to complain about your flat or your block in general. but the elevator, the damn elevator, is slower than a university's administration office when you desperately need a reply from them. which means you'll be stuck out of your home for longer if you don't get on that damn thing within the next few seconds. and like, you know this isn't a big deal. you know. how much longer can you possibly have to wait to get home if you don't make it to the elevator? 5 to 10 minutes at most? that's not long.

you know.

and yet you're at a point in this adventure that going grocery shopping in july is where every minor inconvenience will either infuriate you or reduce you to tears without a good reason. you guess that's what spending the morning doing your least favourite activity in your least favourite conditions does to you.

your neighbour must hear the rustling of your bags because he lifts his head from the screen of his phone and the two of you make eye contact for a second. oh he sure is handsome. you're about to get swayed by his pretty eyes, his fluffy dark hair, the perfect curve of his nose, his perfect-looking face in general. and for the love of beyoncé, this man has some pretty thick thighs. his overall proportions just seem godly, and you're looking at him from a distance. you're about to make heart eyes at this fine-looking man when-

wait.

did he just roll his eyes at you?

you blink and huff in a sort of angry confusion, and next thing you know, he's sticking his hand between the elevator doors, keeping them from closing. as they open again, he calls out to you.

“oi, neighbour! you getting in or what?” you blink again.

are you tired enough to get irritated by everything or is he being low-key rude at you right now? dude just held an elevator door for you and yes, you're grateful that he's saved you a longer wait, but why is he acting like he unwillingly donated one of his kidneys to his worst enemy?

“yeah?” you answer, but it sounds more like a question. you move towards the elevator again, struggling with the damn bags. “yeah, i am.” you repeat, firmer this time. “thanks for that.” he just nods at you in acknowledgement.

“third floor, right?” he asks. you say yes, slightly surprised that he seems to know you live right next door to him. but then again, you knew before talking to him too.

hold on. oh fuck.

is he being rude to you because he's pissed at you playing loud music and singing? are the weekly meetings to plan your murder a thing after all? oh shit. that would actually make sense. do you apologise? or would that be weird? you haven't even introduced yourselves, it would definitely be weird. you take a deep breath. okay, okay. you got this. let's do this step by step.

“my name is y/n. we're actually next door neighbours.” you give him a polite smile.

he snorts. he has the audacity to snort at you.

“i know.” you think that's going to be it, but at least he has the decency to introduce himself as well. “i'm minho.” he offers his hand for you to shake as if you weren't holding three giant bags, and by the teasing glint in his eyes you know that it's not an innocent mistake. “right.” he smirks, looking down to your bags and back to your face as if to let you know that yes, he in fact did that on purpose, and then the elevator reaches your floor.

you can't believe you ever thought this guy was nice. in your defense, you think most people would have been fooled with the way he treated that kid that time you caught a glimpse of him through your window. but you’re still pissed to learn this. why does he have to be this hot if he's going to be an asshole?

you make up your mind to just go on with your day, get into your house, forget that this ever happened and avoid having to talk to this guy for longer. the bags on your hands suddenly feel lighter when you practically jump off the elevator and sprint to your door.

apparently, this minho guy has other plans.

“i'll see you around, neighbour.” he calls behind your back. you know he's still smirking even before you turn to look at him working his front door open. “nice singing, by the way.” he raises an eyebrow at you before he gets in and closes the door behind him.

you actually drop your bags at that. you knew there was a good chance he'd been able to hear you all this time, and in every other situation it wouldn't have phased you. but when it seems like he's mocking you after how rude he's managed to be to you in the span of a couple of minutes? now you're both flustered and pissed.

“oh shit.” you scramble to get your bags again, suddenly remembering that you've bought a dozen of eggs. if even a single one of them has cracked because of this guy...

turns out only one egg survived, as you'd soon discovered with a quick glance at your bag and upon closer inspection later after you got inside your house. but you're convinced that it was minho's fault. and so, you're set on holding him accountable for it.

so you are ringing his doorbell next day.

“hey, neighbour.” an unsuspecting lee minho directs an amused grin at you when he answers the door and what he finds is you. he notices how your arms are crossed and how you're sporting a frown that makes you look, in his humble opinion, more adorable than intimidating.

he has no idea what this is about, but he's here for it.

“hi, minho.” your tone is flatter than a table when you greet him. “i need some eggs.”

he blinks at you once, twice, and for a moment you think it's endearing how he looks like a confused cat. nope, nope, you need to stop right there. we must stay focused, brothers.

“you need eggs.” he repeats after you.

“yes. you startled me when you got into your house yesterday and i dropped my bags.” he raises an eyebrow at you like he did yesterday. does he have to look that hot while doing it? you continue through gritted teeth. “i had my groceries there, and the eggs i bought cracked.”

“really?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks exaggeratedly at you. you nod. “my bad, neighbour.” he doesn't sound a bit sorry.

“my name is y/n.” you were bothered before, but now you're getting pissed.

“i know, you told me yesterday.” on his end, minho is having the time of his life. you are so cute trying to stay calm. in your current stance, you're only missing an irritated tapping of one of your feet to look like thumper from bambi. perhaps he can push you enough to get you to do that, he bets you'd look adorable. ah, he must be losing his mind.

“you keep calling me neighbour.” you point out. minho gives you a very sweet, very charming smile, and you mentally curse at how it actually kind of works.

so much for staying focused.

“aren't we neighbours though?” you sigh.

“whatever. do you have eggs?”

“the question isn't whether i can give you my eggs or not, the question is: are we at that point of our relationship already? we might be going too fast here, neighbour.” he teases. is he making an innuendo out of eggs now?

you take a deep breath.

“look-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“wait, i'll be right back.” he saunters inside his house leaving there, dumbfounded. can this guy get any more irritating?

you're still standing there, probably looking like you're trying to catch flies with your mouth when you hear a soft meow below you, and you find a cat stretching right by your feet. so your annoying neighbour is a hot guy with a cat. why did the universe put the man of your dreams right next door only to make him an asshole? still, you waste no time in getting down and presenting your hand to the kitty.

“oh hi, baby. when did you get here?” you softly call, and when it not only gets closer to you but nuzzles its face against your palm as well, you gasp in delighted awe.

“dori likes you already, huh?” you look up to find minho smiling at you, and this time it's more of a fond smile than a shit-eating grin. the cat goes back to its owner and nuzzles against his legs this time, and you get back to your feet. “here.”

minho shoves two cartons of eggs into your arms. two whole cartons, which is twice what you bought yesterday. he might have gotten on your nerves the couple of times that you've talked to him, but you came here intending to go back with maybe a couple of eggs out of pettiness more than anything, so it feels wrong to take this much from him.

“wait, minho, this is too much. it's more than-” he cuts you off again with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“take them. it was my fault and i bought too many anyway. or is that more eggs than you can take, neighbour?”

well, bye-bye cute, smiley, kind of not that annoying-looking minho, welcome back shit-eating grin, irritating asshole.

“thanks, minho.” as he goes back to annoying, your tone goes back to flat.

“don't mention it. let me know what you think about my eggs next time, neighbour.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and with that, closes his door on your face.

you feel your blood boiling as you go back to your house.

unbeknownst to you, minho saw what happened yesterday in the split second he caught sight of you dropping your bags as he was closing his door and actually felt guilty about it, so he bought the eggs to bring them to you later on that day.

he's glad you've come to him before he had the chance to do so, though. it's been way more fun like this.

the next time you see minho, you find him helping an elderly lady go down the stairs to your floor.

you're locking your door behind you, ready to go hang out at one of your friend's place, when you hear his voice behind you.

“aish, we've talked about this, mrs park. you need to take the elevator.”

you turn around and sure enough, this lady you assume to be one of your neighbours from one of the upper floors is gripping minho's arm with one of her hands and holding a cane with the other as they descend the stairs. with much difficulty on her end, you note.

“don't lecture me, young man.” this mrs park lady spits at him. minho straightens his posture next to her.

“yes, ma'am.” you like this woman already. there's this feeling of satisfaction in seeing minho getting told off that has you quietly snickering.

the sound must reach his ears as his gaze automatically travels to where you're standing. you think he's going to be embarrassed that you just witnessed someone else having the upper hand in a conversation, but he just gives you a lopsided grin.

“hey, neighbour.” you don't bother hiding how you roll your eyes into the next world.

before you can say anything, mrs park speaks up.

“and who is this young lady, min-min?” your eyebrows shoot up at that, and you don't miss the way minho's ears turn red at the nickname. oh, so this is what makes him shy. you take note of it. “did you finally get a girlfriend?”

well, now you are the one feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. you fear minho is, in fact, very capable of telling her that you are actually his girlfriend just to get a reaction out of you, so you walk towards the two of them before he can answer.

“my name's y/n. mrs park, right?” she smiles at you while nodding and she looks like the cutest grandma while doing so. you've been around this lady for a few minutes at most and you'd already do anything for her. maybe it has to do with her scolding minho, you think.

“that's right, dear.”

“i actually moved next to minho a couple of months ago.” you explain, mirroring her smile. you're about to shake her hand, but you notice that it might not be the most comfortable thing for her in her current predicament. “you know what? let me help you get the rest of the way down too.” you tell her, and you offer one of your arms for her to hold like she's doing with minho's, as well as a hand to hold her cane for her. she gladly takes you up on your offer.

“oh, aren't i lucky to have such kind kids as neighbours? thank you, deary. i'll bring you cookies next time. after all, i couldn't properly welcome you when you moved because i didn't know you had.” yep, you would most definitely risk it all for this woman.

“don't even worry about it, mrs park! it's not your fault, and i wouldn't want to inconvenience you.” you tell her as the three of you make your way down the stairs. she doesn't have that many steps left, but her pace is slow, and she hisses in pain with each one she goes down. you understand why minho was ushering her to take the elevator.

“nonsense, dear. it's no inconvenience, i'll get you those cookies soon.” she insists. you'd feel bad if you refuse her too much, so you accept.

“well, in that case, thank you so much. i'm sure they'll be delicious.”

“do i get cookies too, mrs park? yours are the best.” minho butts in, and you catch yourself finding him cute again in the way his eyes sparkle with hopeful joy at the notion of the homemade pastries.

“you know i can't say no to you, min-min, but learn some manners from this young lady.” she tells minho, but both of you can tell she's joking. you assumed as much already, but they must be close with each other.

“yes!” he pumps a fist in the air in victory. “thank you, mrs park.” he smiles the prettiest smile you've ever seen at her as the three of you get down the last step and you think for a moment that you want him to smile at you like that too.

“let me get the elevator for you, mrs park.” you let go of her and give her cane back, already moving to call the elevator. “i know it's slow, and i'd love to help you all the way down, but i think it might be more comfortable for you like this.”

“she's right, mrs park. we can't have you tripping down the stairs again.” minho intervenes.

“again?!” you ask, horrified. you are not letting this woman walk down a single step more, not on your watch.

“that's right, mrs park here tripped down the stairs last year and fractured her hipbone. she gave the whole block quite a scare.”

“oh my god.”

“you make it sound so dramatic. besides, i'm completely recovered now.” mrs park complains, but as much as minho annoys you, you agree with him on this one.

“mrs park, i get what you mean, but minho is looking out for you. there's no harm in using the elevator, right?”

mrs park looks back and forth between minho and you a couple of times and both of you smile the most innocent smiles you can manage at her. she sighs in defeat.

“okay, okay. i'll take the damn thing.” the elevator doors open right then. “now you children get back to whatever you were doing, i've already taken more than enough of your time.” she waves at the two of you as she steps into the elevator.

“will do! it was nice meeting you, mrs park!” you wave back at her with a smile, and so does minho.

“see you, mrs park. i'm looking forward to those cookies.” the elevator doors close, and you're left alone with minho.

“well, that leaves just the two of us, neighbour.” the corners of his mouth tug upwards, and you already fear what he's about to say next. “but pray tell, wouldn't it have been easier for you to get in the elevator with mrs park?” your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. you can’t believe this man.

“couldn't you have said so before the doors closed?” you ask incredulously, and then you realise “wait, but you didn't get in either, you missed it too.” one of his hands flies to the nape of his neck and he lightly scratches it. 

“ah, i actually didn't. i only came out because i heard mrs park and i couldn't let her walk those steps alone.” his smile gets wider, and he shrugs his shoulders. “sorry to disappoint, but you're on your own on this one.”

“i-” this time, it's actually a good thing he cuts you off, because you have no idea what to say, caught between trying to process how surprisingly sweet of minho is to take care of mrs park like that and how exasperated you feel at him right now.

“i'll see you around, neighbour.”

“and is this neighbour of yours handsome, dear?”

you don't know why you even bother at this point.

“mom, for the love of god!” you settle for the softer option of the words that were about to come out of your mouth. “i've barely seen the guy twice and you're already throwing me into his arms.” you exasperatedly munch on one of mrs park's cookies, the sweet treat is very much needed to get you through this phone call. minho was right though; her cookies are the best you've ever had.

“do you want to be thrown into his arms?” she throws at you, and you sputter. what has gotten into your mom?

“this is pointless, i'm hanging up.” you deadpan. your mom laughs at the other end of the line.

“aw, come on. i'm just joking, sweetie. but would it kill you to try to look at him in that light? or anyone for that matter?” see, this is what your mom doesn't know.

the fucking thing is, you see him in that light.

you don't know why your mom is so set in getting you to consider if minho is handsome or not, but the fact is that you very well know he is. you've seen him just a couple of times, but you're too well aware of how attractive your neighbour is. he has it all too: cute, hot, sexy, endearing, you name it. you aren't that sure about his personality because you don't get just why he has to tease you each time he sees you nor do you enjoy being mocked each time he opens his mouth, but he definitely has the looks. you'd be either too blind or too ignorant to even try to deny it.

“mom, i don't think i'd even say we're friends. just because he looks around my age doesn't make it any weirder than if you were trying to set me up with a man old enough to be dad.” you hear some rustling on the other end and then your father is speaking to you. your mom always puts everyone on speaker, so this is no surprise.

“i've been summoned. what's up, petal?”

“dad, tell mom to stop trying to set me up with my neighbour.” you take another bite of your cookie, chewing quickly to continue speaking. “tell her to stop trying to set me up with anyone for that matter.” your dad makes no effort to do such thing.

“your neighbour? what neighbour? who is this young man trying to seduce my baby?”

“dad, you're missing the whole point. no one is being seduce-”

“if you're seeing someone, you better bring him home for me to meet him, young lady.” you silently face-palm.

by the end of the call, both your parents are somehow convinced that you like minho, that he likes you or that you're dating him, you're not sure which one. perhaps all three. well, it's not like you care. no matter how good-looking you think he is you can't picture yourself dating minho, that would be-

wait, why are you imagining what it would be like to date him? you groan. see? this is what talking to your parents does to you.

you take the last bite of the last cookie you have left from the batch that mrs park made for you. you're thinking about how much of a sweet person she seems to be when you're startled by the sound of your doorbell. you make your way to the front door, to find none other than minho on the other side, with his characteristic cocky smile.

“hey, neighbour.”

“uh... hi. can i help you?” you don't know why you find this situation so awkward, but there's something about minho actively looking for you that seems uncharacteristic of him.

“you can, actually. i have a friend over and he's making brownies, but we ran out of sugar.”

“so?” you ask. you have no problem with giving him sugar, but you want to make things a bit difficult for him because he always makes things difficult for you.

“so,” he echoes you. “i was hoping you'd take pity on us and give us some. i think about a cup is all he's missing.”

“mrs park would be disappointed in you, minho.” you feign a disappointed sigh of your own accompanied by a disapproving shake of your head, and when minho looks at you with pure confusion in his eyes you think you're getting good at his little game. “she did tell you to learn some manners, didn't she? and you can't even say please when asking for something.”

minho mutters an “ahh” while nodding his head in understanding before he gets back to the smug smile.

that's not good.

“my dearest, most favourite neighbour.” he dramatically begins, leaning his back to your doorframe and putting a hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint. “would you be oh so gracious with these two fools who didn't properly measure their sugar so as to bestow upon them the immense generosity of sparing some of your own, m'lady?”

at that, he gets down on one knee and delicately takes one of your hands in his own, bringing it to his lips to plant a soft kiss on the back of it without taking his eyes off yours for a single second.

you blink repeatedly.

you stare at minho.

he grins at you from below.

your eyes widen.

you blush.

you yank your hand from his hold as if it burned you to touch him. it somehow feels like that may very well be a possibility.

“h-huh?” you can hear the whistling sound of water boiling in a teapot in your ears if you focus hard enough.

“sugar, neighbour. i asked you if you can please give me some.” he repeats. “your pretty head surely knows what sugar is, right?”

your what now?

at this point, minho is grinning wider than the cheshire cat. he likes annoyed you, but he thinks he prefers flustered you because there's less risk of you actually getting angry at him. and there's the added benefit of seeing you blush, that's cute. so cute, minho finds himself wanting to make you blush more. wanting to kiss the redness on your cheeks. he's definitely losing his mind.

“of course i know what sugar is.” is all you can muster once you're able to somewhat compose yourself. minho finally gets up and dusts his pants off, still smiling at you.

“glad to know, you had me worried for a second there.”

“i'll be right back.” you run away into your house and minho patiently waits at your door.

you want to get this over with as quickly as possible because you don't like not knowing what to do about the frantic pounding of your heart. and most importantly, you can't be bothered to measure one cup, so once you get the sugar, you bring him the whole packet. besides, he did give you too many eggs last time, so it's only fair that you give him extra too.

“here.” in a similar fashion to him, you shove the thing into his chest and he scrambles to take a hold of it. you notice that he is about to protest , so you speak before he does. “you gave me extra eggs last time, so take it. i'll survive without it, i promise.” at that, minho's face lights up again.

“oh, that's right. you never told me what you thought about my eggs, neighbour.” his hand comes up to hold the doorframe as he leans forward, towards you, with that teasing smile of his.

so he's back at it again. however, this time you're set on being the one who gets a reaction out of him. so, not only do you play along whatever this egg innuendo is, but you also try something you've been thinking about for a while now.

you lean forward as well, your faces inches apart. minho doesn't bat an eye at first, and it almost seems like his smile gets even bigger. but that changes once you whisper:

“your eggs were delicious, min-min.” the combination of the nickname, the sultry tone you've used with him, and the way you bite your lip would be bound to end anyone else. but minho is a strong man, so he's just rendered speechless.

this time, it's his eyes getting wide for a change, and they wander to your lips for a split second. even his mouth falls open a little bit. you see the tips of his ears getting red as they did that day when mrs park called him the same nickname and you are pleased with his reaction, guessing that this is the most you can get out of him. mission accomplished, you think to yourself.

and you close the door on his face.

this one goes to you, but the sense of victory is dulled by the fact that all you could think of when getting that close to him was how easy it would be to close the remaining distance and kiss him.

the next morning, you find that a piece of paper has been slid through your front door.

“hey neighbour,

my friend and i ended up making too many brownies, and it's only fair that you get to have some. we couldn't have made them without your stellar support, after all.

swing by whenever you want today and let's have them over a movie :)

- min”

you read and re-read the note. the faces of three cats are doodled right next to his name, and you can't help but feel giddy at the thought that a boy has written you a note inviting you over and has even taken the time to doodle on it. it's the simplest thing, but you find it charming in the most adorable way. guess you are easy to please.

you suddenly freeze in where you're standing.

wait, is this just a friendly hangout between neighbours? or does he want it to be a date? do you want it to be a date? oh god, you want it to be a date. that must make you some sort of masochist, because why else would you voluntarily accept what sounds like an invitation for him to tease you for the whole duration of whatever movie you end up watching? yep, you must be out of your mind. but that doesn't take from the fact you do want this to be a date, so you think it's time to admit that you might have developed a teeny tiny crush on minho.

okay, so you must be into degradation.

that's all you can gather from this newfound piece of information and you guess there's something new to learn every day.

whatever, you don't want to think about this too much. you've had crushes before and they've never gone anywhere, so why would this be any different? thinking about the prospect of liking or dating someone always makes you wonder if the reason you've been single all your life is somehow your fault, and you don't want to get depressive thinking about that.

so you just make up your mind to drop by minho's house in the afternoon and go on with your day until then. you work out, take a shower, have breakfast, do your chores, prepare lunch and laze around until you get hungry enough to have the meal you prepared.

5 pm arrives faster than you expected, and you guess that that's is a decent time to go to minho's house, so you quickly prepare some iced coffee to have with the brownies, change into a comfy outfit and take your keys to exit your house. you kind of walk the short walk from your door to minho's in autopilot, getting suddenly nervous at the prospect of spending that much time alone with him, and you ring his doorbell with a slightly shaky hand.

when minho gets the door, he does a quick once over of your appearance today, which doesn't go unnoticed. he grins that lopsided grin that you've come to like in these few times you've seen each other, and for once, this sight of him makes you smile too. he does his little confused blinking again, but his smile stays, and you swear his voice sounds softer when he greets you with his usual:

“hey, neighbour.”

“hi, i brought coffee.” you lift the bag where you've brought the beverage and minho makes a gesture for you to hand it to him. you try not to think about how warm his hand feels when it brushes against yours. minho ushers you inside with his other hand.

into degradation and touch starved. you keep learning today, it seems.

“come on in.” you follow him inside and try to make the way you're curiously looking around not too obvious. “make sure you close the door behind you, please. wouldn't want the babies to run out.”

“the babies?” you echo his words, making sure that the door is properly closed behind you as he has requested.

“that's right.” you continue following him like a lost puppy until you reach his kitchen. “this is cold, right?” he asks, patting the bag.

you nod at him, and he gets the two cups inside the bag to transfer them to his fridge.

“all set.” he smiles again. “come meet my babies.” you follow him to the living room and he asks you to stay there as he walks along a long corridor that you're guessing leads to the rooms and the bathrooms as it does in your place. you hear the sound of a door being opened and the soft padding of paws against the floor, and before you know it three cats come rushing at you and start meowing at you for attention. have you died and gone to heaven?

“you already know dori,” minho comes closer to where you're crouching to pet the three kitties. “and these are soonie and doongie.” he points at each one and you nod.

you feel like this might be imposing, but you're too overwhelmed with this much cuteness around you, so you can't help but ask:

“do you think they'll want to rip my eyes out if i try picking one of them up?” minho chuckles at that.

he doesn't usually like other people around his cats aside from his family and closest friends, but with the way you're looking at them with starry eyes and the slightest pout on your lips, he knows his babies are in good hands with you.

“try your luck, neighbour. they may not stay still, but they won't lash out. maybe try dori.” he advises. “it's not that much of a difference, but she has already seen you once.”

you nod and focus all your attention on the grey cat. when you gently scoop her up in your arms and she doesn't protest, you feel like you might cry tears of joy. she even lets you scratch her chin and... is that purring you're hearing? oh no, this is bad. you might be in love.

“she doesn't hate me!” you whisper-shout at minho. he chuckles again at your excitement.

“looks like it.”

“she's purring, minho.” he nods.

“i can hear that.”

“she's the cutest thing i've ever seen.” minho bites his tongue to stop himself from saying that you are the cutest thing he's ever seen.

“she takes after her owner.” is what he says instead. you're so entranced that your answer is automatic, unfiltered.

“she does.” you say with a smile. minho freezes as he feels a familiar heat at the tips of his ears, and you seem to notice what you've just said a moment later. you go stiff, and dori is startled enough to jump from your arms. “i mean!” you suddenly find minho's wooden floor, which is identical to yours, to be the most interesting thing in the world. “you do these little things sometimes that are kind of cat-like, you know?” you mumble.

minho gets giddy at the subtle implication that you've been paying attention to him.

“like what?” he asks while crouching to pet soonie, and surprisingly enough, his tone isn't teasing this time, just curious.

“like...” you slowly let you gaze meet his again “like when you blink slowly and many times when you're confused. or the way you sometimes tilt your head to the side. or the way i thought you were kind of an asshole at first but you actually look like you care a lot around the people around you.” you throw in.

that last one is a bit of a reach because you don't really know him that well yet, but you want to know what he has to say about it. fortunately, he doesn't seem offended when he huffs a laugh at you.

“why would you think i was an asshole?” he stands up again. you know he hasn't just asked you that.

“you were rude when we met on the elevator!”

“how was i rude?”

“you're either messing with me right now or you're too dense. you acted like you hated my guts! and you keep making fun of me since then.” you acuse, crossing your arms. minho winces a bit. he does see how he could have come across that way.

“i'm sorry it seemed like that, i'm just not the best at meeting new people.” he explains. “i guess that kind of makes a bit like a cat, huh? but for the record, i've never once made fun of you.” he says, completely serious.

“allow me to disagree.”

“it's true! friendly banter? maybe. a bit of teasing? perhaps. some flirting? definitely, if you hadn't noticed.” he says nonchalantly, and you freeze for a moment again. “but i would never make fun of you.”

“that's good to know.” is all you manage to squeak, and you want to get paid for all the times you blush around this man, because it's happening too often. minho goes back to smiling.

“good. now that that's settled, shall we watch a movie, neighbour?”

the little details were already hinting at it, but minho turns out to be a big softie. you are sitting on opposite ends of his couch so that both of you can have your legs stretched on top of it. his movie of choice is tangled, and you can tell he must have seen it at least as many times as you have to know every song by heart. he incredulously asks you if you aren't going to sing with him during the first one as if that was a given.

“you belt out taylor swift at ungodly hours in the morning but you can't take singing a couple of songs with me, neighbour?” he challenges. of course, you sing every damn song with him.

and it turns out to be a blast. you can't remember when was the last time you had this much fun watching a movie. but then again, neither of you you aren't as focused in the movie as you are in dramatically repeating some of the lines and singing the songs. you try not to think about how your heart speeds up when a more romantic song comes up or every time minho replaces flynn calling rapunzel “blondie” with his trademark “neighbour”.

halfway through the movie, minho takes out the brownies and the coffee.

“here. lix makes the best brownies, but i hope you'll still like my eggs better.” he winks at you. you find yourself smiling for the first time at that joke too.

“again with the eggs? why does it feel like you're using them as codeword for something else?” you tease as he hands you your plate and your cup. you place both on the table in front of the couch, and he does the same when he comes back with his.

“and what do you think they might be codeword for, neighbour?” you just shrug your shoulders. “well, whatever they are, they've been in your mouth” he wiggles his eyebrows at you like he did last time, and you take one of the cushions on the couch to playfully hit him with it.

“pervert.” you acuse.

he takes the cushion from your hands smirking and looks behind for his cats before chucking it without a care as they aren't there.

“maybe i am.” the two of you are left in very close proximity, and you start feeling that familiar heat on your face when your eyes seem to have a mind of their own and automatically dart to his lips. you really need to get paid for blushing around him.

“let's try those brownies.” you back away with a racing heart and pray that you won't drop your food or spill your drink with how shaky you get when you're nervous in the slightest. thankfully you manage to get through without incidents.

minho is right about those brownies being the best, as he was about mrs park's cookies.

“your eggs are definitely in danger after this, minho.” you joke around. “is your friend a pastry chef or something?” his eyes get wide and bright as they did when he asked mrs park if she would bring him cookies.

“he should be one, right? i've told him so hundreds of times!” the two of you practically inhale your brownies as you speak.

“i mean, he should definitely give it a try if it's something he enjoys, he's clearly good at it.” you say, taking another bite.

“good enough to make you forget about my eggs.” he pouts. “you wound me, neighbour. i'm gonna have to wine and dine you to win my rightful first place in your heart back.”

“are you asking me out, min-min?” you throw the nickname at him, not wanting to be the only flustered one in this room.

the usual redness appears on his ears, but he's not as flushed as the other times and there's no doubt in his voice when he says:

“damn right i am. what do you say?”

what do you say? that's a stupid question.

“sure, but are you sure you can top these?” you point at your now empty plate, moving on to what's left of your coffee. minho's lips quiver as if he's trying to contain a smile.

“topping is my favourite thing to do, neighbour.”

you almost spit out your coffee, but you don't have anything to hit him with within reach anymore, so you let it go this time.

you discuss when you'll meet for dinner, the movie long forgotten. minho apologetically tells you that his job is actually keeping him busy for the next couple of weeks or so, and that he won't have the time to cook you the five star course he's promised you until then. he offers to hang out some other day for movies like this if you want though, as he's free during afternoons for the most part. you, of course, say yes.

some other day turns out to be almost every day. minho and you exchanged numbers the day he asked you out to that dinner date, so you guys have been texting as well. there's a lot of your usual bickering and a big amount of flirting, your conversations becoming dangerously close to inappropriate sometimes. but for the most part, you just talk about more wholesome stuff.

he sends you lots of selfies using weird filters to make you laugh, and there's this one time when you nearly lose your shit when you receive one in your workplace. you learn he hates coriander with a passion, and it might make you a bit cruel, but you make a mental note to hide some in his food sometime to see the face he makes, just once. he tells you that he has seven friends who are dying to meet you, including the brownie boy. you also find out that he's a graduate on computer science and he works as a computer hardware engineer. you're not entirely sure what that is about, but you know that you need big brain energy to be working in something like that. his true passion, however, is actually his favourite hobby: dancing. so this man has got the looks, the brains, as you're quickly discovering the personality too, and he is a dancer. why does he keep getting more charming by the moment?

you have multiple chances to ask yourself this question in the span of the two weeks that you spend coming to his place to watch movies. you learn that soonie had been abandoned when he adopted him, that he got doongie from a friend's cat who had given birth, and that he got dori from an abandoned cat website too, and this fact tugs at your heartstrings. he just loves his cats so much, and it's obvious that they love him too. they are a little family, and you find them to be the absolute loveliest when they're together.

you just find minho to be the absolute loveliest in general. you realise now why you thought he was an asshole at first; it's because he doesn't feel the need to make a show out of how he cares for others. he never expects anything in return for the little things he does for people, nor does he shove it in anyone's faces that he's doing something for them. in fact, he does things for others almost secretly, you learn when he confesses what actually went down with the eggs. that was the problem all along: the first few times you saw minho, you were too focused on how he talked to you, which you easily mistook for the wrong thing when you didn't pay attention to the nice things he was pairing it with.

you don't think he's nice like you did that first time you saw him through your window though. you now think he's one of the sweetest people you know. some point along this couple of weeks, much to your friends' delight, you've found yourself telling them about your growing crush on your neighbour, and you have promised to ask him to meet them sometime soon. who knows? if things go well, maybe your friends can meet his. you still want to wait to tell your parents though, you don't want them jumping right to marriage at the news that you've found someone you like, that you're getting to know him, and that he seems to like you as well.

on his end, minho finds himself more infatuated with you by the second. it's all about the little things, he thinks. it's how you bring treats for his cats too when you bring snacks for the two of you, or how they curl both around and on top of you if you fall asleep on his couch like they've already done twice. it's how he wishes he could lie down with you too when that happens, how he wishes to hold you close to him too often these days. it's the way you look out for mrs park as if she was your own grandma ever since you met her just like he does. it's the way you feel more comfortable as time passes to match his teasing. it's the way your eyes have been softening lately and your smiles have been getting bigger each time you look at him.

and so, when the friday of your awaited dinner date rolls around, both of you are buzzing with excitement. you manage to get through half of the day without excitement turning into nerves, but when the afternoon arrives, your stomach starts to churn anxiously. you know there's no reason why you should be this nervous to see minho, but you can't help it. the possible outcomes of this date scare you. what if he decides he doesn't like you like that and doesn't want to have more dates with you or even invite you over for movies anymore? and what if he does want to keep on going on dates with you? you're old enough to treat the concept of dating with maturity, but it's still so new to you that you can't help but worry about whether you are enough to be considered dating material. and copious amounts of stress only mean one thing for you.

it's cleaning time.

you don't care if you'll soon have to start getting ready, you need this.

you're butchering half of celine dion's discography this time, which means minho must be having the time of his life back at his place, and that lots of teasing surely await you when you see him later tonight. or so you think.

you go around your house dusting the rooms and scrubbing the kitchen counters, and once you get that done you decide to finish off with something relatively quick and clean the windows and the balcony doors.

you finish off the windows in no time, and you have stepped out to your balcony with only one foot when soft meowing startles you. your eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets when you lower your gaze.

doongie stands in your balcony, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world, and he's curiously looking at the streets below, his tail slowly swishing side to side as he sticks half of his body through the metal bars. you panic at the sight. this isn't good. you know that minho's cats never leave the house unless it is for a vet appointment, so doongie being out here in the open is completely unpredictable.

and you live on a third floor.

“doongie.” you softly call. “doongie, sweetie, come here” you try. doongie is uninterested. “pspsps. here, baby. here, have a treat, hmm?” you coax, and that grabs his attention.

he steps back and meows at you again, as if ushering you to give him what you've promised. that leaves you enough room to scoop him up into your arms. you take a quick glance at minho's balcony and find the doors closed, so you go back inside your place, lock the doors to your balcony and head straight for minho's house. you waste no time in ringing his doorbell, as you've done countless times now.

minho opens up soon after, and he looks more distressed than you've ever seen him. you can guess why.

“look, y/n, this might not be the best moment.” he tells you, looking guilty to be kicking you out before you've even stepped into his place.

it's shocking enough for you to hear him use your name instead of his usual “neighbour” with you. and as much as you hated it at first, you'd give anything to hear him say it now, because that would mean that he's feeling good enough to joke around with you.

“doongie is at my place.” you say. he looks at you with eyes wide as saucers and it seems like he doesn't fully process your words, so you repeat them. “doongie is at my place.”

when the words finally register in his head, he slumps and he lowers his head, his forehead landing on your shoulder. his hands grip your waist, holding onto you for dear life.

“thank god. oh, thank god.” he mumbles, muffled against you, but you still hear the shakiness in his tone. you stroke his hair softly. his hands move from your hips and then he's hugging you in the tightest hug anyone has ever given you. “thank you, thank you, thank you.” he repeats over and over against you, and you swear you can hear sniffling.

you wait until he's calmed down a bit to tell him that he can go get doongie, which he quickly and gladly accepts. he holds his cat right as he sees him, peppering the kitty's face with kisses.

“i was worried sick.” he tells him. “my baby, i'm so sorry. you have a dummy of an owner, right?” he apologises, scratching his chin. doongie doesn't look like he cares that much about it. in your eyes, he just looks happy to see minho as usual, as meows at him and proceeds to rub his face against him, purring loudly.

you watch the two fondly, and walk them the short way from your house to minho's when he says he's going back to get things ready for later.

you didn't notice when you came to get minho, but his place looks like a tornado went through it.

“do you need help with... that?” you ask from his front door, pointing inside. although you don't know exactly what to point at, everything looks like a mess.

minho tells you that he started looking everywhere once he noticed that doongie was missing and that's why his house looks like that. he tries to politely refuse your offer, telling you that he'll have his place looking like it usually does in no time and then he'll make dinner for the two of you. nice try, but you're not having any of that

“bullshit.” you deadpan. “i'm helping you and you don't get to say no. i brought doongie back to you, so you owe me one.”

“and you're deciding that i owe you... letting you clean and tidy up a mess that you didn't make?”

“you got a problem with that?” you ask with an eyebrow raised at him. minho straightens up.

“no, ma'am.”

“thought so.”

the two of you get to work, and even with an extra pair of hands to help, it takes longer than minho had expected to get his place back to normal.

minho looks dejectedly at the kitchen counter where he had already set a few of the ingredients he was going to use and bites his lip. it's probably too late to make what he had in mind now, so he will have to settle for something quicker.

“make yourself at home, i'll get started with dinner.” he says.

you yank the back of his collar to pull him back to you.

“no, you won't.”

“what is it with you bossing me around today?” he complains, turning to face you.

“minho, you were scared shitless for doongie just a while back and i can tell you're still unsettled by the whole thing, so just sit back and rest for a little, okay?”minho doesn't look fully convinced.

“but what about dinner?” 

“it's fine, minho, don't worry about it. we can order some takeout and you'll cook for me next time.”

you see the signs of how he hasn't fully recovered from the shock just yet as he frantically looks at doongie every now and then. as if he were going to disappear any second, and for good this time. his voice hasn't lost that shakiness you noticed earlier, and his lips have been pursed in a straight line while his eyes have looked suspiciously watery. it breaks your heart to see him this shaken up.

“no, i-i promised. it was the whole point of the date, and-”

screw this, he needs to shut up.

for the first time since you've known each other, it's you who interrupts minho.

crushing your lips against his.

it takes him by surprise and he goes stiff for a moment, but you keep it short either way.

“minho,” you cup his cheeks softly and look him in the eyes. “do you really think you need to cook for me to get me to like you, or to go on more dates with you, or whatever it is that your equally hot and stupid brain is thinking right now?” he looks speechless.

“huh?” oh how the tables have turned. not long ago, you were the one stunned to silence in each of your conversations, and now it's him who can't find the words to answer you.

“i'm saying i already like you, you cute idiot. i don't care about dinner, i'm here for the time i get to spend with you.”

minho looks like he's on the verge of tears, but even as he lightly sniffles, he smiles and says:

“and here i thought you only wanted me to be your trophy husband.” you smile at him, lacing your hands together behind his neck.

“idiot.” he shrugs his shoulders, not losing the smile. you never want him to lose the smile.

“it's part of my charm.”

“it actually is.” you admit.

and this time, it's him who's diving in to kiss you. his lips move slowly against yours, soft and tender at first, and a few moments later they become firmer, more passionate. you match his pace eagerly, and you think that you could kiss this boy for a whole lifetime as a pleasant shiver runs down your spine and you feel goosebumps rising on your skin. the two of you feel breathless when you pull apart, but he still steals another peck before resting his forehead against yours with a smile. one of his hands comes up to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek in slow motions.

“hey, neighbour.” he whispers.

your lips stretch in the biggest, happiest smile your face is capable of, and minho doesn't need to see it. he feels it, and he knows he will do whatever it takes to have you smiling like that as often as possible.

“hi.”

after that, he finally yields to you, letting you order some takeout as you cuddle on his couch. minho is laying his head on your chest and has his eyes closed while you thread your fingers through his hair. soonie is sleeping by your feet, doongie is laying on your chest right next to minho's face and dori is curled up on top of your belly. you could get used to this.

“date me.” minho suddenly mumbles, half asleep.

“huh?”

“i said date me.” he repeats, a bit louder this time.

“i heard you. but haven't we been going on dates this whole time? i thought the movies were dates.” your voice goes somewhat quieter and you bite your lip at that last part, afraid that you might have misunderstood the situation. minho huffs and opens his eyes to look at you, but makes no effort to move from his current position.

“you can be so dense sometimes. yes, those were dates. but i mean date me. as in, be my girlfriend, neighbour.”

minho feels you tense under him, and he watches at your eyes dart from one place to another. he can hear your heart picking up its pace from where his head is placed, and he smiles at the adorable blush already creeping up your cheeks.

“sure, min-min.” you throw the nickname at him, as you do every time you want him to feel even a fraction of the bashfulness you feel.

and it works, like it does every time. minho rolls his eyes at you, but he somehow does so lovingly, and then closes them again.

“hey neighbour?” he quietly calls out to you. you hum for him to continue as your fingers keep moving slowly through his hair.

his eyes remain closed as the corners of his lips lift.

“did you order something with eggs?”

CRASH & BURN.

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor. w — swearing, one absolutely horrendous dad joke, the secondhand embarrassment is even worse this time i'm not sorry at all, the rest of the en-kids are also losers. 1.3k words.

note — listen, who am i to deny the public from their needs and wants? i have no idea how rizzless hoon became such a hit, but ask and you shall receive. i'm sure this won't be the last you'll see of this loser. PART ONE.

also tagging those who were asking for a part two hope u all don't mind! — @gyulune @jngwnlvs @snowysab @miercerise @karinasswifee @cerealdreamwriter @dinonuguaegi @tyongff-ff

for the past five days, you have been routinely returning to the skatepark at the same time without fail. this has obviously attracted questions from your friends considering the first time you tried out a longboard, you crashed and scraped and bruised your chin within seconds, but you can’t exactly tell them the truth about your endeavor— that you’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of mr. kuromi bandaid with the rollerblades again, and being left disappointed every single time.

he hasn’t shown up. not even once.

it’s day five, and there’s still no sign of him nor his lollipop. it’s day five, and you’re just about to give up until you spot from your peripheral a familiar group of boys that scared the shit out of you the other day— except this time, they aren’t staring at you like maniacs, and they seem to be one person less.

“are you fucking stupid?” you overhear as you hesitantly approach their circle, cautious steps because they’re still as intimidating as you can remember. they all look so serious, two individuals glaring at each other while the rest simply watch, both unconcerned and amused. “oh yeah? you really think you can beat me? wanna duke it out right now, dickwad?”

cold sweat breaks out and you freeze in your tracks, expecting them to spiral into a fist fight.

“my dragonite will sweep your fucking team, loser.”

“your dragonbitch doesn’t stand a chance against my tyranitar!”

nevermind. you really shouldn’t be so quick to judge them again.

you regain the bounce in your step and race up before they could metaphorically kick each other's asses.

“hi!” 

you flinch when the six heads suddenly snap towards you. your smile twitches, discomfort  lasering into your skin from the half a dozen set of narrowed eyes leering at you so intently and so intensely. “who are you?” the one previously bragging about his dragonite asks.

“dumbass.” another one smacks the former on the backside of his skull. “it’s shoelaces.”

the nickname sets a few lightbulbs off, and a pair breaks away from their violent staring at you to give each other knowing glances. “oh, shit!” this time it’s mr. tyranitar who exclaims. “right. the dude hoon absolutely decimated himself in front of. poor guy. he’s still going through the five stages of grief.”

hoon must mean sunghoon. you want to open your mouth and present your business about the missing individual, but it’s not so easy to butt in when they’re busy conversing amongst themselves.

“what do they want?” 

“how should i know? i’m not them?” 

“no fucking shit. but what do you think they want?”

“maybe it’s about hoon?”

“no way. that guy’s done for.”

“hey, don’t be too harsh on him! he’s grieving!”

“what if it’s because we‘re being too loud—”

“what if they’re here to have a pokemon batt—”

“you do realize they can hear you, right?” 

light-haired guy is right. you can very much hear them, and they’ve all finally quieted down, slowly turning their heads to you once more but with a dampened intensity this time. they’re waiting for you to speak. you can’t believe you thought they were scary. you can’t believe you were intimidated by a group of nerds.

“sorry for the intrusion,” you smile, pressing your palms together. “i noticed one of your friends hasn’t been coming around lately. is he okay?”

a cough. a nudge. a silent conversation between the six pairs of eyes. “he’s been sick these past few days,” dragonite owner finally says. “sickeningly unbearab— ow!” 

your smile disappears. “oh no.” he’s sick? he already didn’t seem that strong when you met him the other day, collapsing into the ground and all.

“i think you can help him get better— ouch! jungwon, what the fuck?” one of them gets hit again. you’re sure it’s been the same guy hitting the rest of them since earlier.

“why are you asking about him?”

the nicest looking one squeezes out of their group while asking his earnest question, fishing out the answer from you with bright, curious eyes. “ah,” you sound out. “i just wanted to tell him that i also think his shoelaces are really cool.”

they stare at you, then stare at each other. and then someone spews out, “is that a new pick-up line, or some shit?” before getting hit again, and the light-haired guy comes forward to block the squabble happening behind him, and to tell you that they’ll be dragging their friend tomorrow at the same time (isn’t he supposed to be sick?) so you can compliment his shoelaces in person(?), and that they are looking forward to welcoming you to their family (whatever the fuck that means).

as promised, they do drag the sick man into the skatepark— literally dragging him because the guy who introduced himself yesterday as jake is pulling him forward by the sleeve while jungwon pushes him from behind as the wheels of his roller skates make sure that sunghoon keeps on moving. he looks like he’s ready to move on into the afterlife. your eyes light up when they drag him closer.

“c’mon, hyung! just a little bit more— a liiiiittle bit—

“i told you, i’m never coming back here again!“ you hear him groan, attempting to break away from his escort team. “never ever. never again. this is is where half of my dignity is buried. my pride. my shame. my—”

and then he freezes.

sunghoon gets frozen by an invisible force when your eyes meet, frozen but his cheeks are set ablaze. his friends did a great job in escorting him to you, encasing him and in consequence his view of his surroundings until you’re within an arm’s reach so he doesnt run away. the heat from his face thaws him back into movement, panicked and angry expressions sent to his friends and they all look pretty stupid trying to talk with just their eyebrows, but it’s cute nonetheless.

“hey!” you finally chipper in, causing sunghoon to freeze once more, creaking to meet your gaze. 

“h—hello. hi.”

sunghoon’s greeting comes out as a choke. jake and jungwon send each other signals before hurling the poor boy at you.

it’s like he’s suddenly forgotten how to skate. he can’t control his muscles, sliding over the short path at a dangerous speed that mimics his racing heart and oh shit— oh shit, oh shit. how does he stop again? how does he make a turn? how does he not fucking crash into you like a meteor being sucked into the earth’s orbit?

“oh!”

like all of his (very limited) interactions with you, sunghoon crashes and burns. it’s inevitable. but this time, he crashes and burns into you. you’re both on the concrete and his hand feels like it got crushed between the hard ground and the back of your head, but that pain quickly subsides into a numbing buzz, pumping his arteries with nectar, burning his veins with gasoline, because holy crap—

“close.”

“you’re right, that was a close call,” you breathe out. “i could’ve cracked my skull open.”

“i— i mean, close, you’re— you’re too close.”

does he realize that you can’t exactly move underneath him? he probably doesn’t, not when you can practically see the smoke emitting from his head and the panicked swirl in his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “ah, sorry.” that was a mistake. sunghoon’s face flushes warmer and like a hammer to his skull, the realization hits and he and slowly pries himself off of you.

“sorry—”

“it’s fine.” you sit up and brush the dust off your clothes, stretching out your legs as you nudge yourself closer to him on the ground. “your friends told me you’ve been sick. are you feeling better now?”

“huh?” 

you’re not sure why he’s confused, but he looks very confused before turning his gaze to his friends. you find jay snapping out a thumbs up and sunoo’s stern face somehow reading don’t fucking blow it. he turns back to you with a lot more sweat on his neck than prior. “oh, yeah i was sick, i was so sick, ahaha—” he stammers. “a—anyway, what’s up?”

“i just wanted to see you again. it’s not everyday that i get a compliment on my shoelaces, you know?” you smile. “what about today? aren’t they prettier than the last ones?”

you wiggle your shoes to show off, laced in a complicated pattern that you’ve been practicing for the past five days, and you expect to receive another compliment for it, but sunghoon is oddly quiet. 

he’s quiet. you’re sure you chose a cool pair of shoes this morning. you’re about to be disappointed, until you notice that he’s actually thinking. he’s thinking very hard he’s thinking of something, and that something comes out of his mouth in the form of a badly timed pun.

“...what about...toe-day...”

park sunghoon only knows how to crash and burn. all his friends are a witness to that. they’re a witness to this events that transpired this afternoon, but what they didn’t expect is for you to have an affinity for disasters. you’re laughing at his dumb joke. you’re actually laughing. they’ve been shitting on sunghoon for being hopeless, but maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.

CRASH & BURN.

© hannie-dul-set, 2023.

AAGGHFHHRHSHDHSHDHSHJDBSKDN (notes in tags as always)

mingyu x reader

in which mingyu is an idealistic pastry chef, and you’re a cynical wedding planner who doesn’t believe in love.

words: 4.5k

genres: fluff, just really sweet (hah) fluff, one-sided enemies to lovers (?)

content warnings: none

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.

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Zero

The first time you meet Mingyu, he empties a plate of caramel banana sponge cake into your lap.

Keep reading

Awwwww *lift him and place on my hand then start to gently caress his back with my thumb*

CHIBI SUN

（Sun may need your…love. ）

（Maybe it would be good to give him a lift...）

she found a flower for you!

U_U 🩷

NOOIOOOOOSIOOOIOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HES TOO CUTE AAAAAHRHRDDAAAAAAHAHHHHHAHHHHHHHSHHDHH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Dear Nikto nation, please look at what @temeyes made! Also please check out Tims ig and twitter!

Look at this little guy, I'm so in love with him! So peaceful and happy! Comissioning from Tim was the best idea, I got recently. The best experience! I want to kiss Niktos head and defend his sleep with everything I have!

Is This the Part Where We’re Supposed to Kiss?

🐬Zhong Chenle x Reader ft. Park Jisung

🐬Genre: fluff, comedy

🐬Summary: frenemies to lovers, Jisung gets sick of you and Chenle constantly teasing each other and avoiding your feelings and decides enough is enough.

🐬Word Count: 2.7k

🐬Warnings: making out, some swearing

🐬A/n: I got a little carried away with this one oops but it’s Chenle so is anyone surprised…I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3

———————————————————————————————————–

“Why are you staring at Chenle like that?” Jisung asked, shoveling more pasta in his mouth and raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Because he’s annoying.” You replied, eyes boring into the back of the boy in question, who had gotten up from the coffee table in his living room to go get himself a refill of his drink. You were at Chenle’s house for lunch with the pair, courtesy of Jisung inviting you to join them. Jisung had become your friend a few months ago upon meeting at a local coffee shop, and with the blossoming friendship you quickly found out that wherever Jisung went, Chenle was sure to follow, and vice versa. The two were a package deal, so it wasn’t long before Jisung introduced you to his confident, bubbly Chinese friend. Chenle was a good guy. However, there was one major issue that had arisen.

Keep reading

This gives me life.

Can you draw Telemachus riding on Athena’s shoulders. Please.

of course!

Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader

summary: Feyre invites you to Rita's and you drink more than you can handle. Good thing your loving mate is there to take care of you.

warning: implied smut in the beginning, drinking, some fluff

a/n: this is based off this request. Thank you so much for sending! Hope you like it! I tried to incorporate a little bit of everything  ♥️ I feel like this can be read as a stand alone imagine. If you're interested in reading more of Az x witch reader, you can find the masterlist here.

**

“You’re staring.”

Your tone dances on the edge of light teasing as you meet Azriel’s gaze through your vanity mirror. You hook your earrings on and turn, lips curving up into a sly grin.

Azriel doesn’t look away. He’s sitting on the bed and uses his elbows to prop himself up as he leans backwards. His hazel eyes drink you in like a man who’s been deprived of water, appreciating every inch and curve of your form in that short dress of yours.

“How can I not when you’re dressed like that?”

“Like what?” You ask innocently. You miss the incredulous look he sends your way as you bend over to clasps the straps of your heels, inadvertently giving him a lovely view of your chest.

 You’ll be the death of him, he thinks as he sucks in a sharp breath, wondering if he could convince you to stay home tonight. It’s been a month since you accepted the mating bond and the urge to have you and keep you by his side at all times is insatiable.

You struggle with the clasps of your heels, nearly stumbling over your own feet. Azriel rises from the bed and kneels down in front of you, clasping the straps with a graceful ease. His touch lingers on your ankles and he’s well aware of the warmth of your body. So are his shadows. They eagerly slither up your legs.

“Thank you.” 

“Of course,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your calf and then another, following after his shadows. His gentle touch both comforts and thrills you. He smiles against your skin when he feels your skin tingling and tightening with goosebumps. 

“Az,” you protest but the small moan that escapes your lips when he kisses his way up to your thigh betrays you. “We’re going to be late.”

“They’re not going to care or notice.” Azriel replies, reluctantly accepting that there’s no way he can convince you to stay in tonight. You’ve barely seen Feyre and tonight was all you could talk about the past couple of days. But he knows he can convince you to stay home just a while longer so he pulls away from your thighs briefly.

The look he gives you as he gazes up at you is downright sinful and you’re melting into his promising warmth.

**

Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a dance of vibrant colors over the grand venue. Laughter and animated conversations weave through the air along with the pulsating beats resonating from the dance floor. Your smile widens when you spot Feyre and you’re tugging Azriel along with you.

“You’re late!” Feyre quips, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry, I got a little held up,” you reply and then turn to Azriel with a subtle raise of your eyebrows, your eyes silently screaming: “I told you so.”

“I’m not sorry.” Azriel says, wearing a pleased look and you smack his arm in response, prompting a laugh from Feyre.

“Az, my man!” Cassian greets and the liquid in the glass he’s holding spills over slightly.

The two of you are being split into different directions. Cassian, with a playful grin, tugs Azriel to the table they reserved for the night, where Rhysand and Amren sit. Meanwhile, Feyre excitedly guides you toward the dance floor. You ask her where Elain is, noticing she’s the only one missing from your group but she tells you her sister is the one watching Nyx for the night along with Lucien.

Mor, already holding a drink in hand, offers it to you with a wink. You take a sip and immediately grimace at the bitter taste, making her laugh. But she insists for you to chug so you do and before you could dwell on the burn of the harsh liquid in your stomach, Nesta is spinning you into a dance. 

**

Azriel watches you, his eyes alight with a tender affection that paints a soft glow in their hazel depths. A subtle, contented smile graces his lips. You’re laughing and smiling as you dance with the girls–a playful exchange of twirls and spins. 

The dress you’re wearing is a delicate cascade of yellow, reminiscent of dandelions in a sunlit meadow and as you twirl and raise your arms, the material of your dress rides up your thighs. He takes pleasure in knowing that if your dress rode up further, it’d reveal the marks he left on your skin earlier.

Rhysand chuckles. He doesn’t need to read Azriel’s mind to know what’s on his mind and as if caught red handed, Azriel turns to his friends.

“Like you weren’t the same way with Feyre,” Cassian retorts playfully.

“As were you, boy.” Amren rolls her eyes. “All of you but I will say that I am surprised Azriel is handling tonight so well.”

Azriel’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

With a mischievous glint in her silver eyes, Amren simply raises her glass in your direction and Azriel follows. You’re still dancing with the girls, oblivious to the greedy eyes on you. They linger longer than he likes and when a group of high fae approach you, his shadows are discreetly darting to you while one remains. It curls around his ear and whispers to him and he catches snippets of your conversation. They’re thanking you for a potion they bought from you and he allows himself to relax. But only a little.

“I can’t keep up with her.” Feyre breathes heavily and Rhysand welcomes her to his lap, chuckling at her.

“Your mate is popular.” Nesta comments, smirking when she catches the glare Azriel sends her way.

Azriel lost count of the amount of drinks you’ve had but he knows you're captured in a spell of euphoric bliss when you’re swaying more than usual and the hair you had tied up is now loose around your shoulders. Mor is still with you and to his dismay, so is the small group of high fae that had approached you. 

Although he knows Mor is a friend, he can’t help the unsettling feeling in his stomach when she rests her hands on your waist because you’re his and the primal instinct to make his claim and remind everyone of it is strong. He knows it’s the bond and he reminds himself of this when you lean into Mor with a smile. It’s when a dark haired female comes up behind you and her touch lingers longer than needed and brushes in places it shouldn’t that the unsettling feeling slithers into his heart like a green serpent and he loses it.

**

“Azriel!” You gasp happily and throw your arms around his neck.

Azriel steadies you, placing a hand at your waist in a possessive manner. His attention is on the dark haired female. You’re oblivious to the way his gaze darkens and his eyes narrow at her in a silent warning but you’re not oblivious to the tightening of his muscles.

 You rest your hands on his chest, a slight pout on your face.  “Why are you so tense?”

 “Because she was looking at you like she wanted to fucking devour you.”

 “Who?” You pull away slightly to look up at him. Your eyebrows knit together at the bitterness of his tone, even though it’s not directed at you. Then, a laugh escapes from you because the only ones you were dancing with were Mor and the female you just made friends with. “Az, she’s just a friend! Let me introduce you.”

When you turn around, your friend is nowhere in sight. “She was just here…” you murmur with a small frown.

Mor snorts besides you. “y/n, sweetie, she was definitely hitting on you.”

“Oh.”

“I need another drink,” Mor says suddenly. She pats Azriel’s shoulder playfully as she heads toward the bar. “She’s all yours now.”

You’re gleaming with delight at Azriel when he looks back at you. “You were jealous.”

“And that amuses you?” He huffs, pulling you closer to him.

“Yes,” your hands toy with his dress shirt. The uppermost buttons on his dress shirt were left undone and with a bite of your lip, you deviously unbutton more. Your hands are slipping under his shirt with easier access and caressing his chest, following the intricate pattern of his tattoos. A wave of heated desire courses through him at your touch. 

“I find it kinda hot. You’re hot. Like really, really hot.”

A flush of warmth paints his cheeks and he’s thankful for the dim lighting. He stands there, with you still in his arms, momentarily speechless because he knows those words would never escape from your sober, bashful lips.

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, a smile curving his lips when you flutter your eyelashes at him in response. Amusement dances in his eyes. “Like really, really drunk.”

You poke a finger at his chest. “Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

The lively tempo of the upbeat music gracefully yields to a more intimate melody. As the first notes echo through the air, your mouth parts in delighted surprise.

“I love this song! Dance with me?”

The excitement in your voice is contagious and before Azriel can respond, you’ve already taken matters into your own hands as they grasp for his. You place one at the small of your back and entwine your fingers with the other.

“I put a spell on you."

"Because you’re mine.”

Your movements are clumsy but Azriel adjusts and guides you effortlessly. The grin on your face deepens as he twirls you, the music weaving a spell around both of you. “Mine, mine. All mine.” You sing to him, your voice joining the rhythm of the song.

As the final notes linger in the air, he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “All yours,” he confirms with a loving smile.

You nestle your head onto his shoulder, breathing softly onto his neck. You’re the one who breaks the tender spell of the moment. With a wicked gleam in your eye, you nip at the spot you know is extremely sensitive and he his body shudders beneath your bold move.

“y/n.”

You giggle when you see that your lipstick left its imprint on his skin and Azriel senses that tonight will be a long one.

**

As the night unfolds, more people approach you to thank you for your elixirs and advice. Some of them are your regulars and you excitedly introduce them to Azriel and then they’re buying you both shots. It’s nearly a miracle when he manages to bring you back to the table. You sit on his lap and drape an arm around his neck and he tucks you into his side.

“Is the room spinning or is it just me?” You say as you lazily brush a hand down his exposed chest. “Or is it you, my pretty?”

Unlike the lighting on the dance floor, the chandelier hanging above the table bathes you all in a bright glow, highlighting the blush on Azriel’s flustered face. Laughter erupts from Cassian and Rhysand and Feyre breaks into an amused smile. She’s the only one that is aware of your flirty nature when drunk. She knows this because when you would drink together in the Spring court, she’s been on the receiving end of it before.

Shadows are pushing your drink in front of you away from you, replacing it with a glass of water instead. Your fingers are toying with the buttons on his shirt again. “This is such a nice outfit,” you murmur.

“Thank you.” Azriel replies, bringing his drink to his lips.

You lean into his ear to whisper. “It’d look even better if it were on my bedroom floor.”

Azriel nearly chokes on his drink. Water splashes onto Cassian, who sits beside him. He glances between you and Azriel. He takes note of the deepening of Azriel’s blush and then the satisfied smirk on your face.

“Drink some water, y/n.” Azriel says in a slightly breathless, unusually ruffled rush. A wave of relief comes over him when he brings the drink in front of you to your lips and you don’t protest.  “You sound a little thirsty.”

“Only for you.”

“Azzy, I’m feeling a little thirsty too.” Cassian teases. He can’t help himself and leans in toward his friend, playfully batting his eyelashes at him.

You’re suddenly enveloped in a sea of green and the unwelcome visitor that had come upon Azriel earlier is now knocking on your door.  You don’t like how close Cassian is to Azriel. Your mate. He’s yours and only yours.

“Back off.” You nearly growl.

“Or what?” Cassian challenges, ignoring the kick Nesta gives his leg under the table in warning.

“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble–”

“Hey Az, your mate is putting a curse on me.”

“I’m her mate, not her master,” Azriel replies with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “y/n is free to do as she pleases.”

He knows you well enough to know that the words you are spewing are nothing but nonsense. A means to scare Cassian and he takes delight in the flicker of panic he sees flash in his friend's eyes.

“Can you at least tell her to stop staring at me like that?” Cassian nearly whines, avoiding your eyes when they darken at him.

When Azriel turns to you, your eyes are back to normal and softened with a sweetness that melts his heart. “I’m not doing anything,” you say coyly and Azriel finds the pout on your face unbearingly adorable. 

“Stop being a baby, Cas.”

**

Azriel nearly has to drag you out of Rita’s. There’s only so much teasing and flirting he can take from you and he welcomes the cool breeze of the night as soon as you both step outside. With a sigh, he effortlessly hoists you over his shoulder.

“Let’s go home, love.”

He pauses at the giggle that escapes from you. “What is it?”

“I have a perfect view of your ass from here.”

Azriel shifts you from being over his shoulders to cradling you gently in his arms instead. You hum in content and raise your hand to brush against the face you adore so much. “Still a lovely view.”

“Better I hope?” He quips.

“I don’t know,” you muse with a teasing gleam in your eye. “Your ass is pretty nice too.”

“You’re going to regret this tomorrow.” Azriel huffs a laugh as he takes you home.

He’s grateful that you live only a couple of blocks away from Rita’s. He’s opening the door to your home only a couple minutes later, greeting your cat, Binx, who is lounging on your couch with a smile. Binx’s curious eyes take in your state and Azriel swears the cat winks at him.

Azriel carries you all the way to your room, using his foot to nudge the door open. He carefully places you on your bed before turning to the set of drawers. He grabs some clothes for you both to change into and when he turns to face you again, you’re curled onto your side and snoring softly.

His heart warms at the sight.

He gently slides your dress off of you, replacing it with something comfier--one of his shirt’s. He unclasps the straps of your heels and then removes your earrings. He wipes away your makeup with a dampened towel, knowing that if he doesn’t, you’d wake up with irritated skin.

Finally, after making sure you’re comfortable, he slips under the blankets. You stir and although your mind is hazy from the alcohol and drowsiness, your body still seeks out the comfort of his warmth.  

“I can’t believe you're really all mine.” You murmur softly as you cuddle up to him.

He buries his head into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender he’s so fond of. He closes his eyes and smiles. He still can’t believe you’re all his either.

**

Another glorious morning greets you, the sun glaring brightly through your thin curtains. Your mouth feels extremely dry and a thin layer of sweat forms over your skin. The arm around your waist tightens in response to your movement. You’re shifting in the bed, turning to face Azriel.

His eyes are closed yet the subtle upward curve of his lips confirms he’s awake. “Good morning, love.”

“There’s nothing good about this morning,” you groan. 

Your entire body is aching and as you stretch your sore muscles, a sudden wave of nausea hits you like a ton of bricks. You're slipping under Azriel’s hold and running to your bathroom. He follows after you, brushing your hair away and holding it back for you as you hurl all the contents from your stomach.

You lean your head against the marble cabinet near the toilet, reveling in its cool touch. “Please never let me drink like that again.”

“I quite liked drunk y/n,” Azriel teases as he helps you up to your feet. He hands you your toothbrush and leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. “She’s bold.”

All your blood rushes to your cheeks. You meet his gaze through the mirror. Bold can mean many things and as you try to remember the events from last night, you’re coming up blank. “What did I say?”

“You nearly cursed Cas,” Azriel replies. He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he says his next words but the mischief reflected in his eyes contradict his casual demeanor. “And you said my ass is nice.”

 Azriel watches you, savoring the role reversal as now you’re the one in a flustered state. You push past him with your hands on your face–a futile attempt to cover the mortified expression on your face. You walk back into your bedroom.

“Why are your clothes all over the floor?”

Azriel normally places his worn clothes in the hamper that sits in the corner of your room but in his haste to take care of you, he carelessly threw them on the floor. He smirks, taking advantage of the perfect opportunity to tease you further.

“Because you said they’d look better there than on me.”

“Fire burn and cauldron boil me.”

**

a/n: when writing this, I was listening to the song I Put a Spell on You and I found that there's another version of the song that Austin Giorgio sings called You Put a Spell on Me and it's very Az coded in this au. Imagine him singing it you 😩

tagging: @fxckmiup