#cdrandomideas

[cutiedwaekki]

how to (not) get a boyfriend

—skz x saiki kusuo

summary : minho just wanted a peacful life. so why when he wanted to avoid jisung he always find him anyway ?

a/n : happy new year late guys i hope y'all are happy and safe ^^

What's y'all resolution ? One of mine is trying to post at least once a month here hehe

this fic will mainly took place in the universe of the manga/anime saiki no psi nan. It's highly recommended to have seen it to enjoy and understand it this but not mandatory.

Btw tell me who are your favorite character from this anime. Mines are Kaido and Aren :))

Enjoy ♡

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔🍮᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

Minho was never an ordinary child.

He didn’t come from a special family. They weren’t rich, nor poor. Just… aggressively average.

Which made it even more suspicious that their son was anything but normal.

At fourteen days old, Minho started speaking without opening his mouth.

At one month, he began walking in mid-air.

At one year old, he went grocery shopping alone.

Yes. Alone.

That was when Lina, his mother, finally started questioning reality.

But instead of taking him to a doctor, she and her husband panicked, thinking he had robbed the supermarket despite the fact that Minho was holding the receipt in his tiny baby hands.

His parents were… special. Not in the "wow" way. In the "we’re just going to accept this and move on" way.

They never questioned his powers. Never freaked out. Never asked for explanations.

They simply nodded and went, "Well. That’s our son , isn't he so increadible"

As the years passed, Minho’s powers only grew stronger and more ridiculous.

Teleportation , telepathy , levitation , reality bending , time stopping and so on ...

Basically, nothing was impossible for him.

Except having a normal life.

Which was, unfortunately, his one and only dream.

So at seventeen, Minho was doing everything in his power (literally) to blend in as a completely normal high school student in Seoul.

No attention. No drama. No destiny.

Just vibes

He had even modified reality so that his antennas and green-tinted glasses looked "normal" to everyone. Nobody questioned them. Nobody stared. Nobody cared.

Which was good. Because the antennas suppressed his powers, and the glasses prevented him from accidentally turning people into stone.

His life was simple:

1-Go to school.

2-Prevent accidents.

3-Buy puddings.

4-Go home.

5-Watch anime with his cats.

Perfect . Peaceful. Predictable.

And then… Han Jisung happened.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔🍮᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

One morning, after nearly destroying the sun because he wanted five more minutes of sleep and the sunlight offended him, Minho was walking to school when a group of delinquents blocked his way.

At first, he planned to ignore them. He could read their thoughts; they were just kids playing tough, looking for easy money.

But then he heard someone shout from afar, "Leave him alone!"

Minho turned.

And there he was.

Blue hair (which, technically, was also Minho’s doing since he had normalized it by altering people’s DNA). Same uniform. Dramatic entrance.

Han Jisung.

A self-proclaimed hero, secret agent, and chosen warrior against an organization called Dark Union.

…Which did not exist.

Unfortunately.

Jisung marched toward them with the confidence of someone who had absolutely no plan.

Minho stared.

'Oh no. Not him'

He wasn’t mean, just extremely annoying. Ever since the first day of school when Minho had helped him after he got locked in the bathroom Jisung had decided to become his knight, sworn to protect him from the Dark Union and all evil forces.

But Jisung was not tall. Not muscular. Not intimidating.

He was… enthusiastic.

The delinquents blinked at him.

One of them took a step forward.

Jisung immediately panicked, handed over his wallet, Minho’s wallet, grabbed Minho’s arm and sprinted.

They ran for a full block.

Jisung collapsed against a wall, gasping. "We… we got away… right?

—"Oh don’t thank me" Jisung wheezed, laughing. "It’s my job as your protector. And don’t worry about the money. Better your wallet than your life."

Minho stared at him.

'…You just gave them what they wanted. Congratulations , you saved me from nothing.'

But he said nothing.

Because Jisung was smiling at him.

He kept a neutral expression, barely looking at the blue-haired boy who was staring at him with sparkling eyes, smiling so brightly that it made his chubby cheeks stand out.

And for some reason… Minho felt his brain lag.

'…Why is my heart doing that.'

Annoying.

Okay… maybe he was looking at him more than he thought.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

No matter what Minho did, everything seemed to lead back to Jisung.

They sat close to each other in class, so Jisung talked to him nonstop.

One weekend, Minho ran into him at the convenience store while buying pudding, and somehow ended up in a café with him, paying for his cheesecake while Jisung rambled about his plans against the Dark Union.

In the evenings, they took the same route home, and Jisung always waited for him after class with some ridiculous excuse completely unnecessary, since Minho could read his thoughts.

And yes, Minho knew everything.

He knew that Jisung had a crush on him.

He knew he was getting closer on purpose, just to get his attention.

And even though Minho tried to avoid him, there was something about Jisung that intrigued him.

He wasn’t perfect and glowing like Yongbok, the school’s golden boy.

He wasn’t strong and athletic like Changbin, the class rep.

He didn’t have a dramatic ex-gangster past like Jeongin.

He was just… Jisung.

A loud, dramatic idiot who only wanted to be loved.

Minho wasn’t emotionless but with his powers, he had learned to stay discreet, to never stand out, to live quietly… even while constantly hearing the thoughts of everyone within a two-kilometer radius.

But maybe… one day, he could give him a chance.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

That day started normally. Minho was heading to school when Jisung’s blue hair suddenly appeared in front of him, making him jump.

He hadn’t heard his thoughts. He hadn’t sensed him at all.

How was that possible?

His powers were working , he could hear the neighbors’ thoughts just fine but Jisung’s mind was completely silent.

Minho stared at him, trying to understand, until his gaze landed on Jisung’s necklace. It looked like cheap costume jewelry… but it was made of germanium. For reasons that made no sense, contact with it blocked his telepathy.

—"You noticed my necklace, hyung? It’s pretty, right?" Jisung said proudly, blushing when he saw Minho staring.

He stepped closer, completely unaware of the effect the necklace was having on Minho who, for once, was utterly lost in front of someone.

His other powers worked perfectly, but the closer he stayed to Jisung, the quieter the world became.

For the first time in his life… Minho willingly stayed close to someone.

And guess who went home that night extremely happy that his crush had spent the entire day glued to him?

Jisung was definitely wearing that necklace again. The shaman hadn’t been lying when she said it would bring him luck.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

That day, Minho found a letter in his locker.

He immediately knew it was from Jisung he could even see how many times he had rewritten it, carefully choosing every word.

It was a clear confession, ending with:

'If we run into each other before the end of the day, then we’re meant to be.'

Which was stupid, considering they went to the same school.

And yet… he hadn’t seen Jisung all morning.

At lunch, the classroom emptied, leaving Minho alone , unaware that Jisung was sitting quietly in the back corner. He hadn’t heard him, so he hadn’t noticed him.

He wandered the hallway, confused.

Why was that stupid letter bothering him so much?

When he finally saw Jisung in the distance, he panicked and jumped out the window to avoid him.

He didn’t even realize what he was doing.

But something felt wrong.

Why had he avoided him?

He had never imagined himself in a relationship. Too complicated. Too much pressure.

So why… ever since Jisung entered his life, had everything changed?

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The day felt endless.

Every time Minho sensed Jisung nearby, he panicked , turning invisible or teleporting away.

By the end of the day, they hadn’t run into each other once.

Which meant… it was over.

They’d just go back to being "friends." (if they even were friends)

But it didn’t feel right. For the first time, Minho cared about what someone else might feel.

And the idea of Jisung being sad because of him… bothered him more than it should.

When he got home, he realized he had forgotten the letter in his locker. So he teleported back to school.

As he reached the back of the classroom Minho felt something twist in his chest.

An unpleasant sensation.

Unnecessary and embarrassing.

But as he was about to ignore it he heard some crying coming from the big locker usually were all the furnitures and paper were stocked

'Great' he though

He opened the locker.

And there, inside, curled up, cheeks wet with tears, eyes red and swollen…

Han Jisung.

Minho blinked.

'…So that’s why it hurts.'

Jisung looked up. The moment he saw Minho, his face shifted from despair to pure relief.

—"Hyung…" his voice trembled. "I… I thought you were avoiding me… because of the letter…"

Minho stayed still.

In his hand, the letter.

The one he had reread too many times.

The one he pretended not to understand.

The one he understood perfectly.

Jisung noticed it and inhaled sharply.

—"…You read it…"

But he didn't anwser

Minho suddenly thought on how to get away with this situation.

Option 1: erase Jisung’s memory.

Option 2: teleport him to another continent.

Option 3: act like a normal human being.

'…Annoying.'

He chose option 3.

Reluctantly.

He held out his hand.

Jisung hesitated, then slowly took it as Minho gently pulled him out of the locker.

Then they stood facing each other with their face very close , almost too close.

Jisung looked up at him, hesitant, vulnerable.

—"…Do you… like me too, hyung?"

Minho’s brain froze.

'…Why are his eyes doing that ? That’s unfair.'

He didn’t answer , simoly because he didn’t know how.

So instead, he tightened his grip on Jisung’s hand and started walking out with him.

Jisung blinked, surprised, but followed.

They walked out of the classroom while still holding hands while Minho was carefully calculating his strength so he wouldn’t accidentally crush Jisung’s hand.

Jisung stared at their hands, then at Minho, then smiled. A real soft bright and happy smile.

—"So… um…" he whispered shyly, "we’re… dating, right?"

Minho didn’t answer but he didn’t let go.

And for Jisung, that was a confession.

They walked all the way to Jisung’s house like that in this calm but confortable silence.

On their way they stopped at a convenience store and Minho paid for two banana milks and two puddings. One for him and Jisung.

After that they continje to walk until they finally arrive in front of his house

At the door, Jisung stopped as he turned to Minho. Then they both looked at each other.

Jisung seemed like he wanted to say something , like he wanted to do something… but didn’t dare to.

Minho sighed internally.

'…Fine.'

He spoke up , his voice softer then he would himself imagine

—"Jisung-ah… take care of yourself."

Jisung froze , his eyes widened , his heart almost skipped a beat

Minho had said his name.

Out loud.

Just… because.

He smiled.

—"…Good night, hyung." He replied with excitation , placing quick kiss on his cheek as he went inside, his heart light, his face warm, convinced he had just experienced the best moment of his life.

Minho stayed there for a few seconds motionless. He placed his hand on his cheek were Jisung just had kissed him as he realised what had just happen

Then turned away.

'…It’s official. Han Jisung is dangerous. Extremely dangerous to my peace.'

But strangely…

He had never been happier to be in danger.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

[cutiedwaekki]

WIP

hiiii ♡

As promised, I'm really trying to be more active here, so I've decided to show you my current work to tease you about upcoming fics (and also to motivate myself to finish them). I also have some ideas in the works, so feel free to give me your opinion or even suggest ideas.

WG FIC :

office pig :

Hyunjin got hired at this new company , it was so easy to get in ... almost too easy.

That's until he discover his new job is the be the office pig. The one we feed when we're stressed , the one we played with etc...

Is he going to accept it or leave ?

seasons of loving :

(part 2 of seasons of love)

Just watching Felix gaining weight throught the year while notcong how his closes friends getting fatter

(Idea) Aishite :

Minho is a huge fan of the rosing rockstar Jisung. From collecting all his photocards to knowing each facts about him. So when je discover that jisung liked "bigger people" he jumped on the occasion

(old draft) I'm the boss :

Seungbin dynamic with Changbin being the top but Seungmin is the feeder. Always tempting him and teasing him whole remaning innocent with the others.

(Idea) eat now kiss later :

Minho tried to make a love potion to make jisung fall in love with him. The only problem is now that Jisung is in not love with him but his cooking

(Old draft) my onlyfan :

Changbin a well known BHM content creator , showing his gain through the years , making all type of content around it.

His followers love everything about him. They may knew each of his curves but not the one who got him all of them

NON WG FIC:

Nana :

Basically a nana insipired fic but with minsung because i can do it

[cutiedwaekki]

Puppy Princess

☆ hold me i'm your bunny

summary : Seungmin got home for holiday with bunch of stories to tell his family about

a/n : it's cringe , short , too much obssessed with ot8 fic lately , just wanted soft seungmin content 😔

anywayy enjoy ♡

(*つ´･∀･)つ

Seungmin stepped through the front door and felt it immediately , that particular pull of a place that had always belonged to him, that smelled like jasmine tea and fabric softener and something baking somewhere deeper in the house. Nostalgia, even though he had only been gone a semester. Maybe because of it.

He had enrolled at one of the most prestigious universities in Seoul. He had earned a merit scholarship , the one that included a dormitory room within the campus grounds , and while his parents were more than comfortable enough to cover every expense without blinking, Seungmin had firmly refused to let them pay more than they needed to. He was stubborn about it in the quiet, polite way he was stubborn about most things.

Because Seungmin was, by most definitions, a model student. Perfect grades, immaculate attendance record, the kind of behaviour that made professors use him as an example and made his classmates call him (not entirely without affection) the 'class robot'. He took color-coded notes with four different pens. He had a study schedule laminated and stuck above his desk. He had strong opinions about which mechanical keyboard switches were optimal for typing speed versus tactile feedback, and he was not afraid to share them at length with anyone willing to listen, and sometimes with people who weren't.

Outside of academics, his interests were what politely might be called niche. He had over three hundred manga volumes, organized by genre and then alphabetically by author. He had watched enough anime to have a ranked spreadsheet. He could hold detailed conversations about fictional world-building, card game mechanics, and the narrative shortcomings of season three of any given shonen series. He collected small gashapon figures that lined his windowsill in careful rows. He wore graphic tees with characters on them that most people his age had never heard of, hoodies with Japanese text that he had bought from import stores, socks patterned with pixel art.

He was, in short, a deeply gentle nerd , the kind who apologized when someone else bumped into him, who held doors open for strangers and then stood there long past the point of comfort waiting for them to pass through, who smiled reflexively when someone made eye contact with him on the subway.

And for a long time, he had had no friends because of it.

Not quite nerd enough for the hardcore gaming circles. Not quite social enough for the casual ones. His interests were too specific, his humor too quiet, his presence too unassuming to carve out space for itself in the chaos of high school social dynamics. He had known people, certainly , classmates, lab partners, a few acquaintances who borrowed his notes and never returned them , but friends, real ones, had always been a different matter entirely.

He had seemed, to outside observers, to take this rather well.

That was because he had his family.

His father rewarded him at the slightest occasion : a high score, a good report, finishing his dinner .With the kind of proud enthusiasm usually reserved for Olympic athletes. His mother had spoiled him since before he could walk, and had never really stopped, greeting every visit with an array of his favorite foods and an expression of pure delight at the sight of him. His older sister Minji protected him with the ferocity of someone guarding something small and precious, a role she had appointed herself to in childhood and never relinquished. She was the only person on earth allowed to tease him, and she exercised that right frequently and with great satisfaction.

They were all three united by an understanding that had never needed to be spoken aloud: Seungmin was loved. Seungmin was cherished. Seungmin was theirs, and they were going to make very sure he knew it.

He toed off his sneakers, and the simple act of bending down made him pause. There was resistance now. The soft, insistent pressure of his belly against his thighs, the fabric of his hoodie riding up at the back, the quiet strain of it. He straightened up slowly and tugged the hem down on instinct, a reflex he had developed sometime around October without quite noticing when. The hoodie was a grey zip-up he'd bought at a fan convention three years ago, back when it had hung loose on his shoulders and pooled a little at his hips. It had a Haikyuu characters embroidered across the chest in careful detail. He loved it unreasonably. It didn't fit the way it used to. The zipper sat slightly strained across his middle, and the hem barely reached the waistband of his jeans, and the fabric followed the gentle round curve of his stomach with an attentiveness he would have preferred it not to have.

He had gained weight. That was simply the truth of it. It wasn't all of sudden , it had been gradual, slow, the kind of change that crept up in small increments until the day his favorite jeans required a full breath-hold to button. His face was rounder now, his cheeks full and soft, a faint second chin appearing when he tilted his head down to look at something. His thighs pressed together when he walked, a warmth and friction that hadn't been there before. His belly had developed a distinct presence of its own by being so round and low and soft, sitting comfortably over his waistband, noticeable when he sat down and his shirts pulled taut across it, very noticeable when he bent forward.

He had not weighed himself in several months because he had decided, with calm deliberation, that he didn't particularly need that information.

He was, by any definition, soft. Plush. Well-fed. And standing in his childhood hallway, tugging his convention hoodie over his stomach, he felt the familiar small knot of self-consciousness that always arrived with coming home , the awareness of being seen, after months of existing in the comfortable anonymity of campus life.

His mother appeared from the kitchen doorway almost before he had finished processing the thought, arms already open, face already luminous.

"Pup'! There you are, finally!"

She pulled him into a hug without hesitation, without ceremony, without any pause that might have suggested she'd registered the way he'd changed since summer. Her arms wrapped around him with the easy familiarity of someone who had been hugging this particular person for twenty-two years and intended to keep doing it regardless of what that person looked like. Seungmin's cheek pressed into her shoulder. His belly pressed soft and round into her middle. He felt his face get warm.

She pulled back and cupped his face in both hands, studying him with the particular focused delight she reserved for his homecomings.

"Look at this face. Look at you." She squeezed his cheeks gently, and they gave under her hands with a soft, yielding resistance that made her smile widen. "You're eating well, aren't you? You're glowing, Pup'. Absolutely glowing."

It was not a criticism. In his mother's voice there was no irony, only the uncomplicated pride of a woman who equated a well-fed child with a happy one. For her, roundness was abundance. Softness was health. The fact that her son's cheeks had gotten squishier and his middle had filled out since the begining of the semester was simply evidence that he was doing great

Behind her, Minji leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed and a smile on her face that contained several distinct layers of emotion fondness, amusement, and the particular sharpness of an older sister who had been saving a comment up since the moment she'd heard the door open.

"Careful, Minnie." Her eyes traveled from his face to the gentle swell of his belly straining against the hoodie, and back up again. "You keep going like this and I'm going to start calling you a baozi instead of a puppy. You're practically round."

"Minji—" their mother said, in a tone that was more amused than reproving.

Seungmin made a small, wounded sound and immediately brought both hands to his stomach, pressing against it as though he could simply push it back in through willpower. He could feel it clearly under his palms — the softness, the warmth, the way it sat heavy and full and entirely unwilling to be hidden. His jeans bit into his hips at the waistband, the denim stretched tight across his thighs. When he walked, the fabric of his inner thighs whispered against itself with every step, a new development he'd grown quietly used to. His shirts rode up constantly now when he lifted his arms or leaned forward, exposing a pale stripe of soft stomach, and he had developed a habit of checking the hem every few minutes the way someone might check a loose thread.

"Be happy i'm not eating you next" he said, with some sort of teasing tone

Minji looked at him. He looked back at her. She raised one eyebrow with serene patience.

"You're very cute," she said, with absolute sincerity. "Like a little dumpling. Come on, Puppy , Mom made things."

(*つ´･∀･)つ

Installed on the sofa with a tray of tea and a plate of butter cookies, Seungmin was flanked on either side by the two women who knew him best in the world, both watching him with the expectant focus of people waiting for a show to start. He reached for a cookie before the plate had quite finished landing on the coffee table. Then a second one, almost immediately. He held his teacup in his other hand, ankles crossed, perfectly comfortable, utterly unaware of how thoroughly he was being observed.

The interrogation commenced.

"How many?" Minji asked.

"Seven."

Their mother made a sound of pure delight. Minji kept her face carefully measured.

"Are they actually your friends? Not study partners, not people who borrowed your notes—"

"I think so."

"You think so ?"

"I'm fairly confident."

"Photos?"

"Yes."

Seungmin set down his tea and pulled out his phone and scrolled to his gallery. He passed it to his mother. A series of bright, candid images: a group of young men in a café, crowded outside a convenience store at what appeared to be two in the morning, piled around a table of entirely demolished dishes. His mother made increasingly delighted noises. Seungmin pointed to each face in turn, his voice taking on that particular unhurried warmth it got when he talked about things he actually cared about.

"That's Yongbokie bit he prefer i call him felix. He's my roommate. He's Australian, incredibly loud in the mornings, but he bakes constantly. He always makes too much and just leaves plates of things on my desk. Last month he made three batches of brownies and left all of them with a note for me with a little heart drawn on it. I ate all three batches over four days." He paused. "I don't regret it."

He scrolled.

"Hyunjinnie studies fine arts. He takes me to gallery openings and tells me I have a poetic face, which I believe is a compliment. I've started going to the galleries without being dragged because actually some of them are interesting, but I haven't told him that. Changbinnie lifts weights every day and talks about music with unsettling enthusiasm, but he's genuinely very sweet. He takes me to restaurants after his gym sessions even though I don't actually use the gym. I wait on the bench outside and read. We've started doing this three times a week."

Their mother pressed a second cookie into his hand without comment. He ate it while continuing.

"Minho and Jisung are roommates. Both obsessive about manga I've converted them both to a few series, which I consider a personal achievement. Minho cooks almost as well as Felix, honestly maybe better, and he always tells me to have seconds and pack me food for my own dorm. Jisung just wants to talk constantly while we eat. He'll order an enormous amount of food and then spend the entire meal discussing

Last week he cried about a fictional death and then ordered more ramen and kept crying."

He said this fondly.

"Jeongin's from Busan. He brings me coffee every single morning without being asked. last week it had caramel drizzle, whipped cream, chocolate pearls, and what I think was a small cookie balanced on top. It was technically more dessert than beverage. And Chan is Felix's friend, also Australian. He appears at irregular intervals with pastries and explains that I need energy to study. He's very tall. He pats my head."

He said this last part with the straightforward matter-of-factness of someone reporting observable fact, already reaching for another cookie.

His mother and Minji had been exchanging a series of looks above his head for the past several minutes , a whole conversation conducted entirely in raised eyebrows and micro-expressions, the fluent silent language of two people who had been allied on the subject of Seungmin for his entire life.

Minji let the silence sit for exactly as long as it took for Seungmin to take a large bite of his third cookie. Then she said, calmly:

"Minnie. These men are flirting with you."

He looked up. Blinked. Cookie mid-chew.

"What?"

"Openly. With enthusiasm. All seven of them."

"No, they're just—" He swallowed. "They're attentive. They're friendly. It's different."

"Felix leaves you baked goods with handwritten hearts."

"He's affectionate by nature—"

"Hyunjin told you that you have a poetic face."

"He's an art student, he talks like that—"

"Changbin takes you to dinner three times a week."

"He's hungry after the gym—"

"Seungmin." Minji said his full name with great patience. "That's more than friendly."

There was a pause.

And then, unbidden and entirely unwelcome, the images arrived: Felix pressing his thumb gently to the corner of Seungmin's mouth to wipe away a smear of chocolate, so casual and unhesitating that Seungmin had barely registered it at the time. Hyunjin with his sketchbook open, saying stay still, 'I want to get your hands right they're very you'. Changbin's broad palm settling warm and steady on the small of his back to steer him through a restaurant doorway. Minho setting a second bowl in front of him without asking, saying 'you look like you're enjoying it'. Jeongin's eyes tracking him over the rim of the cup every single morning, waiting for the first sip, wearing that small private smile. Chan's hand on top of his head, resting there in that absentminded way that somehow always stayed a moment longer than strictly necessary. Jisung asleep against his shoulder in the manga cafe, weight warm and trusting, snoring very faintly.

The blush started at his ears. It moved inward rapidly.

"They're my friends," he said. His voice had lost some of its certainty.

Their mother reached over and patted his round cheek with the palm of her hand, soft and warm.

"Of course they are, Pup'," she said, in exactly the same tone she used when she told him the dentist wouldn't hurt.

"Of course," Minji agreed serenely, and stole his last cookie.

He let her take it. He was busy staring at the middle distance with slightly too much intensity for someone thinking about nothing.

His mother stood, announced that the raviolis were ready, and the moment dissolved into the domestic comfort of plates being carried and chairs being pulled out and the smell of food filling every corner of the kitchen. Seungmin found himself at the table with a bowl in front of him that was considerably larger than the one he'd asked for, because his mother had served him without asking, and that was simply how things worked here.

He ate three helpings. He didn't count them consciously. He was still thinking about Hyunjin's sketchbook, and the way Chan's hand always lingered.

They were only friendly right ?

Right ?

(*つ´･∀･)つ

That same evening, in the apartment two blocks from campus, Jisung was lying on his stomach on the floor of the common room, scrolling his phone with one hand and holding a half-eaten bag of chips with the other. He came across a photo from last month — the seven of them at that ramen place, Seungmin sandwiched between him and Felix, face bright, chopsticks raised, mid-laugh. Jisung stared at it for a moment. Set the chips down. Picked them back up.

"Hey," he said to the empty room, because Minho was in the shower.

No answer.

"I miss Seungminnie" he told the chips, and then felt that this was slightly embarrassing, and ate the rest of the bag.

(*つ´･∀･)つ

Across campus in the art building's studio, Hyunjin was supposed to be finishing a charcoal study. He was instead sitting cross-legged on the floor with his sketchbook open to a page he'd filled three weeks ago — not an assignment, just a sketch. It was Seungmin, smilling broadly, with his hair slightly curled and his torso larger than it actually was bit give this whole chibi vibe.

Very you, he'd said then, and meant it entirely.

He closed the sketchbook. Opened it again. Turned to a blank page and picked up his pencil.

He didn't know yet what he was drawing. He had a general sense of direction.

Seungmin was his muse , and he missed that muse

(*つ´･∀･)つ

Felix served himself dinner in silence, a single portion in a pan for one, which was a thing he had not done in several weeks because there had always been a reason to cook for two. He ate standing at the kitchen counter, which he also hadn't done in a while, because Seungmin always insisted on sitting at the table properly, and Felix had started agreeing that yes, sitting was better, meals should be an occasion.

He looked at the table. The two chairs. The chair that was usually occupied.

He served himself, sat down at the table, and pulled out his phone.

Food didn't raste the same without Seungmin

(*つ´･∀･)つ

Chan was still on campus.

This was not unusual. Chan was almost always still on campus, specifically in the music production lab on the third floor of the arts building, at a desk that had accumulated the quiet evidence of too many late nights , three empty energy drink cans he kept meaning to throw away, a hoodie draped over the back of his chair that wasn't his but it couldn't help wearing over and over as it still got Seungmin scent in it

The track he was working on wasn't going anywhere tonight. He'd known it for an hour but had kept adjusting things that didn't need adjusting

He pulled out his phone instead.

There was a photo in his camera roll from two Sundays ago , Seungmin on the bench outside the gym, reading, completely unaware, the afternoon light catching the soft round curve of his cheek in profile, his hoodie riding up slightly at the side. Chan had taken it without announcing it because he'd wanted the unguarded version.

He looked at it for a moment.

Set the phone face-down.

Picked it back up.

He thought about the pastries left outside the dorm room door. The head-patting that had started as a joke, become a habit, become something he looked forward to with a specificity that probably warranted more examination than he was currently prepared to give it.

He pressed play on the track. Thirty seconds. Stopped it.

Something was missing , Seungmin was missing

(*つ´･∀･)つ

In Busan, Jeongin was at his parents' house for the holiday, and he was standing in front of a café counter staring at the menu the way he hadn't stared at a café menu since ... since before this semester, when ordering coffee had been a simple transaction. He found himself automatically doing the mental calculation: caramel drizzle, whipped cream, the sweet ratio that worked. Then he caught himself and looked blankly at the barista.

"An Americano" he said, because that was what a normal person ordered.

He didn't enjoy it very much. It needed more caramel. It needed someone to take the first sip with their nose scrunching slightly before declaring it perfect, which was something Seungmin said every single morning with unfailing conviction regardless of how sweet it was.

He paid and sat down and looked out the window for a while.

It's not fun if Seungmin wasn't here

(*つ´･∀･)つ

Changbin went to the restaurant by himself, which lasted approximately six minutes before he ordered his food to go. The table for two felt like an accusation. He sat on a bench outside and ate his ramen from the container and watched people walk past and thought about how Seungmin had laughed last week at something on his phone and shown it to Changbin without preamble, assuming he would find it funny, which he had, but more because of the way Seungmin's whole face had done the thing it did when he found something genuinely delightful , a little helpless, the round softness of his cheeks pushed higher.

He finished his ramen. Got another portion.

He didn't need it. He was going to the gym later. He got it anyway.

It wasn't the same without him

[cutiedwaekki]

Don't be surprised if i drop a short fic with seungmin being a delulu in denial

Like imagine just saying all the things the members are doing for him and he's just like "yeah they're just being friendly"

no seungmin. they love you

(Really such a random idea just because one of my class got cancelled)

[cutiedwaekki]

Am i the only one who reread my own fanfic and cringing at some parts because i remember EXACTLY how i wrote it ??

Plus including all the typos and translation errors that I will never correct, I'm incredibly lazy sorry

Anyway , i got busy this days ... sleeping , watching animes , studying , THINKING OF A WHOLE NEW FIC WITH MULTIPLES CHAPTERS WITH A TROPE I NEVER DID BEFORE AND A WHOLE NEW WRITING STYLE , opening up a ytb channel , baking , studying ...

just the usual things right ? :))

[cutiedwaekki]

OKAY SO , I REALLY WANT TO POST A FIC BUT IDK WICH ONE SHOULD I FOCUS TO SO I LET YOU GUYS CHOOSE

which fic should i post first?

want so bad pt.2 (request)

GIANT

Chrismas special fic

Other

Voting ended onDec 19, 2024

want so bad pt.2 :

pairing : minsung

summary : Minho was right, Jisung was going to come back to him

GIANT :

pairing : ot8

summary : for a dance pracrice , they decide to wear their skzoo costume , little they know that those suits will make them bigger

Chrismas special fic :

paring : ?

summary : surprise

Other

Any other fic that i promose to post but i didn't 😭

[cutiedwaekki]

Imagine a some sort of a isekai were the more you gain in level the more stronger you become but also the fatter you get

I'm just saying 👀

[cutiedwaekki]

Hear me out :

skz x danganronpa

(Yeah i have thousands draft , but as we say good things always come in threes)