- [COMPLETED]
song mingi has a lot of things he's not a fan of. for one, he hates mornings, writing classes and the judgemental assholes crowding his school. he also hates the fact that his aunt's brought yet another otherworldy to their house.
an '...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Mingi awakes with a grunt, hating how dry his throat feels. He briefly opens his eyes before quickly shutting them once more, fucking detesting the stubborn early morning sunlight shining through the blinds.
He groans as he buries his head into his pillow, wanting just a couple more moments of quiet and peace.
The phone on the nightstand decides to ping that very second, an annoying notification that soon triples as new messages decide to pop in.
Mingi hisses in irritation, hating it the most when his mornings are disrupted like this.
He grumbles and snatches the device off the table, tiredly rubbing the crust out of his eyes.
- sannn🐈⬛🧋 rise and shine mingiii!!
- sannn🐈⬛🧋 ok i know u hate it when i do this but we got school today n i know u never use ur alarms i dont want u to be late again
- sannn🐈⬛🧋 and i wont be a good friend if i didnt care about ur attendance
- mingki💤💥 suck it
- sannn🐈⬛🧋 thats the spirit!
- mingki💤💥 youre an absolute menace to society
- sannn🐈⬛🧋 see u in thirty minutes~~
- mingki💤💥 whatever
Mingi throws his phone to the side and shoves his feet into his fluffy pikachu slippers. San got it for him as a birthday gift last year as a joke due to how 'dynamic' and 'spunky' his personality can be (San's words, not his), but Mingi treasured the gift all the same, knowing how San loves that.
Lethargic as fuck, Mingi slithers past his bedroom door and into the bathroom, mind too foggy to pay attention to how silent it is around here.
He pulls off his shirt, relieved at the body he sees in the mirror even though he knows he's looked like this for a while now. But Mingi doesn't think he can get used to it just yet, fearing he'll be back to square one when he wakes up one day.
Fatigued eyes reflect back at him, slanted and lined with dark bags underneath. His normally plump lips are now pale and pulled into his teeth in contemplation. Some stubble shadows his sharp jaw, and Mingi signs, not looking forward to this part of his day.
Like clockwork, he brushes his teeth, then shaves, then pulls off his sweatpants and boxers, looking away from the mirror right then.
Mingi then showers, borderline scalding water washing over him in the process. But that's the way Mingi likes it.
