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withlovemark · 26 days ago

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"the baby project"

warning(s): suggestive! angst! mentions of cheating, drinking, lots of cussing, minho can't communicate to save his relationship

pairing: exes to lovers minho x reader [requested]

words: 4.8k+

summary: he's a cheater. he broke up with you. and now he has the nerve to be the one mad at you? it's all bad! and the cherry on top is you're forced to be paired up with your cheating ex for a project worth 50% of your grade. what could possibly go wrong?...or...right???

au: for the sake of the story, everyone has been aged up to the legal drinking age in s.korea (19). no underaged drinking here! (if you do, pls be safe)

professor alex stumbles into the classroom clumsily, box in hand filled with life-like baby dolls, capturing everyone’s attention.

“ok class, today is the start of the baby project!,” he says excitedly, “you’ll be paired up in 2 of course, acting as the parents, please make sure to take care of your temporary child as this will account for 50% of your final grade,” he explains as the whole classroom groans in annoyance, this was either a pass or fail.

“professor-,” madison raises her hand, “can we pick our partners?,”

“of course,” he nods, everyone immediately scrambling to their usual partner, leaving you - partnerless.

you sigh, looking around the room for anyone who wasn’t paired up only to lock eyes with your ex, minho!, standing across the room. it made sense, you guys were usually the ones partnered up but right now you wanted nothing to do with him.

‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me’

“ok,” professor alex claps his hands, “everyone seems to have their partners, minho and y/n please stand next to each other,”

“no way i'm partnering with her!,” minho complains, his accent ringing in your ears making you want to vomit.

“well, i don't want you as my partner either!,” you roll your eyes, arms crossed.

“uhm, okay, well is anyone willing to switch?,” professor alex looks around the room as you and minho have a stare down, “no?,” the class is absolutely still. dae almost volunteers but before he could do so, yuri slaps his hand down, shaking her head no.

“ok well i'm afraid you two either do this together or fail this class, the choice is yours.”

“now, each pair will get a stroller, a cradle, a baby bottle and a week's worth of diapers, please make sure all of this remains in pristine condition. for every cry that the baby makes, a point will be deducted to your grade…a voice recorder is installed in each baby to make sure you are following the rules of gentle parenting, so please everyone, take this very seriously, ” he advised.

—

“this is so fucking stupid,” minho groans in annoyance as the two of you sat on the grass, having a picnic, fulfilling one of the baby’s needs – quality time.

“language,” you warn him.

“it’s a fucking doll, y/n,”

you scoff, you hate this as much as he does, “yeah a doll that has a voice recorder,” you remind him.

“you really think they’re going to listen to a week’s footage of this shit,”

“can you just stop cursing?!,” he was getting on your last nerves, “you think you can do whatever you want with no consequences,” you mutter under your breath.

”what did you say?,”

”nothing,” you brush him off.

”no, say it…since you have so much to say anyways,” he grunts, waiting.

“huh…can’t say it to my face? you know this is exactly why i broke up with you, you just always have some bullshit to say,” he taunts, catching your attention, eyebrows furrowing.

he has pushed your last buttons, if he wanted to hear what you had to say, then he’s going to hear it.

"you never were good at this," you said quietly, voice biting. “you always wanted the easy way out, minho, that’s why you cheated right!…is that what you wanted to hear?,” you say angrily, tears threatening to spill.

minho’s eyes darken at your words but before he could get a chance to reply the baby’s cries broke off the tension.

"great," you scoff, gently grabbing the baby and rocking it back and forth.

“i’ll go change her diaper,” you announce, quickly making your way back to your dorm room. you needed to get out of there fast, your own tears threatening to spill.

minho watches your figure leave until you are completely gone. your words hit him harder than they should have.

its true, he did pull away first.

—

it's been two days since the park incident. you have been taking care of the baby all by yourself, getting more pissed off at minho with every second that passes. there were still four days left of this project but you were already at your wit’s end.

it was so like him — to leave once it was getting hard. although, this might be a bit of projection on your end.

a knock makes it’s way to your door, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“what are you doing here?,” you ask, coming face to face with the devil himself.

“give me the baby,” minho commands.

“what? no!”

“look y/n, this is my grade too ok and my voice hasn't been around her for a while,”

”weren't you the one who said they won't listen to it anyway”

”just give me the damn baby, i'll return her tomorrow”

“no”

”why not”

”i don't trust you!,” you admit, making him falter for a brief moment before the sound of the baby’s cries snaps him out of his haze.

“fine,” he gives in, pushing his way into your dorm.

”what are you doing?”

”i'm staying here, you can watch us all you want,” he says, walking over to the baby’s cradle, picking her up and rocking her back and forth, baby bottle in hand.

“whatever,” you scoff, walking past him and into your room, slamming your door shut.

truth is, you needed his help. you swore that the baby was defected, crying over the littlest of noises. you took this opportunity to catch up on all your assignments, trying to ignore the boy that was currently in your living room.

minho inspects your place, finding everything exactly as it was before. it’s as if no time has passed and he’s suddenly back to those moments – sitting on the same tiny couch, ramen noodles in hand, binging your favorite tv shows, or when you would experiment with skin care together, laughter filling the space as you discovered some face masks were gentler than others. then there were those times when you would just lay together, head on his chest, talking about the future or other times when the tv’s sounds were drowned out by the sinful noises that escaped your lips.

he can’t help but feel a pang of regret, realizing that the two of you had it all and somehow let it slip away.

he makes his way to your bedroom, gently knocking at your door. no response. he tries again. nothing. his annoyance beginning to creep through.

slowly, he turns your doorknob, only to find you slumped at your desk, hair disheveled, breathing steady and slow – completely worn out and fallen asleep from exhaustion.

he releases a sigh, making his way over to you and gently tapping on your shoulder, “y/n-,” he quietly calls out to you, afraid to startle you.

putting a stop to the light taps, you softly take his hand, murmuring, “-just five more minutes,” your mind clouded in a daze. the warmth of your touch stirs a wave of remorse in him, and for the first time since the break up, he realizes how much he has missed you.

“this is really bad for your back, you know?,” he softly chides, carefully picking you up from your chair. you snuggle into his chest like it was second nature, sleep overtaking you. minho silently thanks the universe that you couldn't hear the rapid thumping of his heart.

gently laying you down on your bed, he tucks you in carefully so as to not disturb your sleep. before he could go, your hands find his again, “don’t leave me,” you mumble in your sleep and it takes every ounce of his will to pull away.

“i'll be back tomorrow,” he promises softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before quietly slipping out of the room.

it wasn’t until he was in the comfort of his own bed that he realized what he had done. slapping his forehead in frustration, he forced himself to sleep and just deal with it tomorrow.

–

“what happened to you?,” you spat, seeing the dark circles that had formed under his eyes and the pimple that he was currently sporting.

“what?!”

you harshly poke his reddening pimple as he slapped your hand away, walking away and finding his spot at the couch next to your baby.

he realizes you don’t remember anything about last night and the fact that he had already thought of a million excuses for his behavior to something you don’t even remember makes his blood boil, but this was for the better.

“how is she?,” he asks, leaving you confused by his sudden concern for your fake baby.

you eye him suspiciously, “she’s fine, she didn’t cry at all last night,” you gasp in realization, rushing over to check if her battery was still in.

“what? what happened?,” he panicked at your sudden movement.

you carefully inspect the baby, everything was still where it should be. minho scoffs, your actions dawning on him, “you really don’t trust me do you?”

“can you blame me?,” you shot back, “you’re not exactly the most trustworthy person in the room,” you jab at his character once more, causing his eyebrows to furrow in frustration.

“she’s been crying nonstop for the past two days and suddenly you show up and not a single peep,” you continue explaining.

“well, maybe she just missed her dad, why would i kill our child like that?,” he mocks angrily, rolling his eyes.

the baby starts crying again, snapping both of you out of the argument. each cry is a point deducted and you’re pretty sure you’ve been down 10 points now.

you rushed over to tend to her, hands brushing against minho’s in the process as you reached for her at the same moment.

quickly, you pull away, letting minho hold her as the two of you coo the fake baby, trying to get it to stop, “shhh its okay, mommy and daddy aren’t fighting, were just having a loud conversation,” minho talks to the doll like it truly had feelings and you can’t help but giggle at the sight.

“what?,”

“this is absolutely ridiculous,” you laugh, the baby’s cries immediately stopping, “hey, it worked,” he says, sharing your smile.

you cough, breaking eye contact as you sat down at the other end of your couch, “a-are you staying here for dinner?,”

“uhm,” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, putting the baby down, “should i?,”

“i think she likes it better when we’re together,” you point to the baby. he nods, agreeing, “okay”

“okay,” you say, reaching out for your tv remote and switching it on.

“just three more days,” you mutter under your breath.

–

minho has fallen asleep on your couch, the show you were currently watching long forgotten as sleep took him away.

after he had made the two of you dinner it felt wrong to just kick him out.

instead, you watch the steady rise and fall of his chest as he occupies the same space he did before, almost like it was always meant to be reserved for him. you want so badly to just lay your head in the comfort of his chest and wrap your arms around him as you somehow fit together on this couch with absolutely no distance between you…just like before. but so much has happened since the last time you’ve felt that closeness.

as much as you miss having him around you can't shake the words he said to kitty out of your mind.

you had gone there to surprise him, with the dish he’d been craving when you stumbled upon them in an empty classroom. the hushed conversation hung in the air, and the words - “i think i’ve fallen in love with you, a little bit...or a lot,” slipped from his lips, leaving you frozen in shock as you turned away, heartbroken.

you can’t for the life of you figure out when he had developed those feelings for her, how he could so easily throw your relationship away or why he couldn’t just be honest with you. if he had then maybe you would have remained friends instead of whatever rivalry you've got going on right now. you shake the thoughts away, not wanting to dwell on it any longer.

what’s done is done.

instead, you grabbed a blanket and your star-shaped acne patches from your room. gently draping the blanket over him, you carefully apply the yellow patch to his cheek before turning the tv off. with a soft glance at him resting peacefully, you quietly slipped away.

–

the sun greets through your window, waking minho up in the process. it takes him a while to realize he was still on your couch, taking notice of the blanket around his body and the star patch, his favorite, sitting prettily on his cheek.

his heart flutters at the thought of your care, excitement bubbling through him at the hope of becoming friends.

you exit your room, already dressed for the day, “morning,” you greet him, heading over to your kitchen to drink a glass of water. he clears his throat, “good morning,” he smiles.

“i’m going out with yuri and juliana, you can stay here and watch the baby,” you say coldly before leaving your dorm room, leaving minho sitting there dumbfoundedly.

–

you needed a girl’s day. something to get your mind out of the gutter. so you spent the whole day shopping your heart away, until the three of you found yourself in the middle of the new club.

this is actually what you needed – a drink, maybe two, maybe three.

being paired up with your ex when there were still clearly a lot of unresolved feelings was the worst thing to happen to you. you are so going to leave a bad review for professor alex at the end of this term.

“y/n, slow down,” yuri says, grabbing the shot glass away from you.

“i just need to forget,” you whine, reaching out for the shot glass.

“do you really think drinking will help you?,” yuri reprimands, “it’ll only make you forget tonight but then you’ll be back to square one tomorrow.”

she was correct, of course she was, but you honestly don’t care.

you brush her off, wandering off on your own, in search of another drink. you just need enough to make the pain go away, just enough to let loose and have fun for a bit and then you’ll go home.

your phone rings in your pocket – minho. his contact picture that you have yet to change blurs your vision, it was a picture of you kissing his cheek, his smile grinning from ear to ear, eyes happily closed. you ignore it, shutting your phone off. you don’t want to think about his stupid face.

–

it’s 1:00 AM and minho has been worried sick. it was so unlike you to be out this late. he has been trying to call you only to be left with your dial tone. kitty has come over to calm him down, helping him figure out where you could be.

“ok so, yuri said they went out to a club but she lost her,” kitty tells minho after getting off the call with yuri.

“lost her!?,”

“yeah, apparently y/n ran away from her after she stopped her from drinking, they’re not entirely sure where she is right now…she sent the address of the bar though,” kitty says, handing her phone to minho.

he immediately jumps up, rushing to your door when it suddenly swings opens.

you stumble in, the smell of alcohol clinging to your clothes as your gaze sweeps across the dorm, landing on kitty who is standing right in the middle of the room, a dark laugh escapes you.

life really had a twisted way of playing trick on you.

“where have you been?,” minho’s voice cuts through, drawing your attention. your laughter fades, leaving you caught in a mix of emotions, unsure whether to laugh or cry as the alcohol swirls in your system.

who was he to ask in the first place? looking at you with concerned eyes like he actually fucking cared.

“that’s just fucking great isn’t?,” you spat, eyes brimming with tears, “just bring the girl you cheated with to your ex’s place,” you laugh bitterly, trying desperately to wipe away the tears that have spilled.

“cheated?,” you hear kitty chime in, confusion etched on her face.

“what’d you guys do? fuck on my couch?,” you accusingly say, voice breaking as the tears continued to fall.

"enough."

minho’s voice is firm as he steps toward kitty, gently taking her hand and leading her out of your dorm. "sorry about this , i’ll see you tomorrow," he tells her as they bid each other a goodbye, leaving the two of you standing there.

“what the fuck is your problem?,” he turns to you, fed up with your behavior.

“you’re my problem!,” you shout, frustration and pain finally spilling over “you tell another girl you’re in love with her while being with me and you can’t even be fucking honest with me about it!,” you shout, breaking down completely. all the emotional turmoil of weeks of holding it in crashes over you.

“do you even know how much it hurt to hear you say you were in love with her?,” you confess, hiding your face in your hands, tears pouring uncontrollably.

the baby cries for the umpteenth time and you can’t help but cry harder. you run to the safety of your room, slamming the door shut behind you. the sharp click of the lock resonates throughout the room, amplifying the weight of the moment.

minho finally put two and two together, the accusations of cheating making sense in a way that shatters him. his heart breaks at the realization that you have heard them that day in the classroom.

with a heavy sigh, he walks over to the fake baby, gently trying to soothe her as he gathers his thoughts, heart heavy with regret as he hears your cries in the next room.

–

you push yourself off your bed, your head pounding, the memories from last night hitting you like a ton of bricks.

how could you have been so careless?

slowly, you get to your feet, grabbing clean clothes and making your way out of your room, determined to shower the remnants of the night away and clear your head.

but a figure in the kitchen stops you in your tracks.

“morning,” minho says, placing a glass of water and a pain reliever on the counter, pushing them in your direction. you nod in acknowledgment, walking over and accepting his offer, desperate to ease the throbbing in your head.

“we need to talk about last night,” he says, breaking the silence.

“after i shower,” you agreed, scurrying off and making your way towards your bathroom. your mind racing with the thought of what he had to say. perhaps, you took longer than usual, not at all ready for this conversation.

–

you finally make your way back into your living room, freshly dressed, towel in hand and spot minho sitting on your couch, a plate of breakfast placed on your coffee table. he looks back at you, patting the space next to him, “you should eat first,” he says.

you eye him suspiciously, slowly making your way over to your side of the couch as he grabbed the towel out of your hand, using it to dry your wet hair.

you quickly pull away, in shock, “what are you doing?”

“uhh, drying your hair, obviously” he replies, tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

“why?,” you question. he was being unexpectedly sweet and now you’re racking your brain for a memory that may have gotten lost on you last night.

“why not?,” he teases and you’re too tired to argue any further. you sigh in defeat, letting him do what he wants, focusing instead on the breakfast in front of you, stomach grumbling at the realization of how hungry you actually were.

minho continues to gently dry your hair as you sit with your back to him, hurriedly eating the food he made.

for a moment it felt like how it did before, a pang of sadness washing over you.

“i’ll say sorry to kitty,” you break the comfortable silence, pausing his movement.

“for?,” he asks.

“what i said last night, i was drunk and it wasn’t nice of me,” you admit.

“okay,” he says.

“and sorry to you too,” you apologize, “it’s just…not easy for me y’know?,”

“i don’t know, actually, what’s not easy?,”

you sigh in frustration. he sure wasn’t making this whole apology thing any easier.

“it’s not easy for me to see you two together,” you admit, “i’m gonna need some time to move on from this, it’s not like what we shared was nothing,” you pause, finishing your food.

“-and, plus you haven’t even apologized to me for cheating on me by the way,” you exhale, frustration slowly building at the reminder, as your thoughts continued to flow.

“-then what? you break up with me for calling you out on your bullshit like really? you couldn’t just be a little more honest?,” you turn to face him, a mix of disbelief and annoyance in your eyes, trying to keep your emotions under control.

“-and now were here taking care of this fake baby,” you point at the baby sitting in her cradle sporting her evil smile, “who cries at everything, like god!, im so tired and so ready to give her back."

you sigh, slumping back onto the couch, “she’s made this whole thing a lot more difficult than it should be, it was supposed to be out of sight, out of mind,” you emphasized, “that was the plan...but now you’re here” you ramble. all the things you had planned to say in the shower spill out.

you were supposed to sound way more collected than this.

minho listens intently to every word you say, a warm grin slowly spreading across his face, “are you done?” he asks, his tone light.

“yeah,” you say, feeling a little deflated.

“ok, my turn,” he says cheekily.

“first, thank you for saying sorry for last night,” he begins, “but i won’t apologize for cheating on you,” he continues, and before you could curse him out, he adds, “because i did not cheat on you.”

“oh c’mon, i heard you tell-,”

“-kitty i was in love with her a little bit?,” he interrupts you, finishing your sentence.

“or a lot?” you added. how could you forget the sentence that haunted you every night.

“or a lot,” he nods, a knowing look in his eyes, “i was practicing and she was helping me” he admits.

“practicing for what?,” you ask, confusion creeping in.

“for how i was going to tell you i was in love with you,” he admits, gaze locking with yours. your breath catches in your throat, the weight of his words sinking in.

“what?,” you whisper, voice faltering at his confession.

“i’m not done,” he says and you nod, encouraging him to keep going.

“i am sorry for walking out, at the time i was too scared of my own feelings, i’ve never told anyone i was in love with them…,” he admits, “-so when you accused me of cheating, i got angry, i couldn’t believe you could think so little of me when i was thinking the world of you,” he says with a sad chuckle, finally clearing things up.

“why didn’t you just tell me?,” you ask, your voice quiet.

“because i thought this was too good to be true, every couple was destined to end why not just end it now?,” he shrugs, “i saw it with my parents, the way they switch partners like clothes, it was all i knew,” he adds shakily, “so when we started to fall apart, i just…let it happen, i thought well, that’s how relationships go, they crumble, and you move on to the next one,” his truths spill out of his lips.

“-but then, this baby comes along and suddenly you were forced back into my life and i realized that i couldn’t—didn’t want to run anymore,” he continues, walls crumbling down.

“…i’m still in love with you and not even a little bit,” he confesses, eyes locked on yours.

“y/n, i love you… a lot,” he declares, his voice full of conviction, “to the point where i want to run with you and if ever you decide you want to stop or run ahead of me, i’ll be okay with knowing that i still was able to be a part of your journey,” he finishes.

go big or go home right?

you can’t help but regret how much miscommunication had taken away from you, tearing up from his confessions, he gently wipes away your tears before they had the chance to fall.

“you’re so stupid,” you say before connecting your lips on his in a soft kiss.

“i love you too,” you whisper and in that moment, all his worries melt away. his overthinking mind quiets as it focuses solely on those three simple words.

he pulls you back in, lips entangling once again. you feel him smile as he deepened the kiss, hand making its way to your waist, as your’s found its way to his long hair.

“god, i’ve missed you so much,” he grunts, moving down to kiss your neck. you moan as he finds your sensitive spot, making sure to leave a mark.

you pull him closer towards you, needing more of him, when you see it — your baby looking straight at you.

“minho-,” you call out to him.

“yes, love,” he asks, still littering kisses on you.

in any other moment, the use of the pet name would’ve sent butterflies all over your stomach but right now all you could focus on was the doll's lifeless eyes.

“-she’s staring at us,” you whisper.

he pauses his actions and you quickly dart your eyes to your baby, minho following your line of vision.

“woah...we’re her eyes always that big?” he asks quietly, head tilting in observation.

“maybe we should take this somewhere else?,” you mumble, remembering the recorder that was strapped onto the doll.

minho playfully smirks at you before grabbing your hand and leading you to your bedroom, “wait-,” you stop him.

carefully, you lift your baby from her cradle, quietly making your way to the bathroom and gently placing her in the bathtub, far away from the bedroom, wary that the voice recorder could pick up the sounds you knew you and minho were about to make.

“add this too,” minho whispers, handing you a blanket, making sure the baby didn’t fuss, before quietly sneaking into your room.

—

you wake up to the pretty boy next to you, fingers lightly tracing the contours of his sharp features, down to his soft pink lips, "good morning," he murmurs, causing you to quickly pull your hand back.

he smiles, “it’s okay, i know i’m too good looking to only be stared at,” he teases, earning a playful slap on the chest from you, your sweet giggles ringing in his ear, this was the best way to wake up.

“i love you,” he says sweetly and your heart stops, you’re not really sure you could get over the effect those words had on you.

“i love you too,” you reply, causing a grin to automatically break out on your boyfriend’s face.

he leans in towards you, ready to kiss you when a startled cry interrupts the moment.

“ughhhh,” your boyfriend groans, “i’ll get her,” he says, grumpily stomping off into the bathroom to soothe your baby.

—

“well, your baby cried a total of 19 times, that leaves you with 81%,” professor alex discloses, handing you your grade.

“a B-!?,” you shriek in disappointment. the baby cried a lot, sure, but she didn’t cry that much. though you weren’t too sure about the time you left her in the bathtub

“hey, i thought we were gonna fail so this is pretty damn good,” minho chimes in positively.

“this is the lowest grade i’ve ever gotten,” you cry out, banging your head down your desk, minho quick to place his hand where your forehead is about to fall, ensuring a soft and gentle landing.

you turn your head towards him, lips pouting and he can’t help but chuckle at your actions.

professor alex made his rounds, telling everyone their grades, “okay class, please say goodbye to your baby, then gently place them back in the box,” he instructed.

minho takes the baby out of your stroller as you bid your goodbyes, “we never gave her a name,” you point out.

“pleasee,” he responds with a grin, “all my baby names are reserved for when we actually have kids.”

“you have baby names for our future kids?,” you say in shock.

“you don’t?,” he says, almost disgusted.

“well…i do,” you smile teasingly as he mirrors your expression.

“ok goodbye baby, thanks for getting mommy and i back together,” minho says, dripping with enthusiasm.

“bye baby, i will not miss you but thank you!,” you say before you placed her back in the box.

walking out of the classroom, hand in hand.

an: they do not care about that baby lmaooo, had so much fun with this request! thank you for reading <3, pls tell me what you think!

#not edited #xo kitty #minho moon #xo kitty minho #xo kitty minho x reader #minho x reader #minho xo kitty #love.c.

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jihyoruri · 5 months ago

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 NOBODY KNOWS kim minji x reader

👛★ ͘ ⴰ ever since summer 2022 new jeans has been at the top of the world surpassing and creating records and getting biggger and better every month but then SM Entertainment drops a new girl group stardom out of knowhere on everyone’s heads “surpassing and creating records” just like a certain group, causing a rivalry in the media and between the groups behind closed doors.

in which behind the secret of rivalry between stardom and new jeans, there’s an even bigger secret between their leaders.

PARING — kim minji x idol!reader

last. masterlist. next

★ ͘ PAGE#1 nobody knows — ❝tonight let’s start a masquerade, I’m coming over but nobody knows my little secret ❞

“the rising sensation, stardom, is adding yet another major endorsement to their growing portfolio, now becoming ambassadors for Sony. they’re set to release a special line of headphones with the iconic brand, already racking up over 100,000 pre-orders—and counting.”

a groan came from beside minji, drawing her amused gaze toward the source of irritation.

“we’re listening to the radio! since when did radio news start caring about stardom’s endorsements?” hanni muttered, rolling her eyes. “that’s not news.”

stardom's name had been everywhere lately, dominating headlines as they skyrocketed to fame.

“they’re still not bigger than us,” minji said, patting hanni’s shoulder as she adjusted her seatbelt. “so why does it matter?”

“they have their own sony headphones, minji.”

“ahh, they have it in purple ,” hyein murmured from the seat behind, eyes glued to her phone.

hanni shot her a sharp glare, haerin pinched her arm, and danielle threw her a disapproving look.

“sorry,” hyein mumbled, shrinking back.

“i just want one day where i don’t have to hear about them,” hanni sighed, her frustration clear as the other girls nodded in agreement. “it’s bad enough they’re performing tomorrow, too.”

“how about see them everywhere,” minji chuckled, gesturing out the window at a bus stopped next to their van. plastered along the side was an ad for pocari sweat, featuring stardom smiling brightly for yet another endorsement.

“ugh”

“rate how shady you think they’re gonna be tomorrow, out of ten ,” summer asked, turning to face the rest of the girls lounging in the back of the van, while eunjin quietly flipped through the pages of her book beside her.

“eight point five ,” yuri replied, lifting her head from yn’s shoulder, causing the van to erupt in laughter.

“I was gonna say nine, but I’m bumping it to ten,” hana chimed in, mischievously kicking the back of eunjin’s seat, sending the girl jolting forward. “i don’t trust that hyein girl. she’s always staring at me.”

“oh, you wanna talk about staring? let’s talk about their leader, who’s always staring at our leader,” yuri said, rolling her eyes. “sometimes, i feel like she’s just gonna jump and eat yn, it’s probably all that jealousy.”

yn playfully rolled her eyes at yuri’s comment. “i’ll go with a seven. that sunshine girl can’t do any harm,” she said, finally answering summer’s question.

“i dare them to say something slick,” summer added, turning back to the front with a smirk. “what do you think?” she nudged eunjin, who sighed in response.

all eyes shifted to eunjin—whenever she spoke, the girls paid attention. she didn’t say much, so when she did, they hung onto every word.

“jealousy is a nasty thing. it eats away at you. and they’ve definitely got it,” eunjin replied, calm and thoughtful. “so yeah, i’m with yuri—eight point five.”

a slow clap broke the silence. “bravo, the wise words of eunjin unnie,” yuri teased, making the others chuckle.

the sound of screams and clapping filled the air as minji watched stardom walk onto the stage to receive their award. both newjeans and stardom had been up for artist of the year in japan, and while everyone kind of knew stardom would win— even though it was just a year into their career the girls had been dominating asia—it didn’t stop the girls from feeling a bit salty

"at least we still have the western market," danielle muttered quietly, just loud enough for the girls to hear. they all watched as stardom struggled to start their speech over the deafening cheers and applause.

"they're probably coming for that too," hanni replied, trying to keep her face neutral, fully aware of the cameras trained on them. with the ongoing internet war between newjeans and stardom, their reactions would undoubtedly make headlines. "right, minji?"

hanni glanced at their leader, expecting a response, but minji was silent. her gaze was locked on the stage, fixed on stardom's leader, yn, who was the last to deliver her thank you. yn's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, like crystals catching the stage lights—so captivating, it was impossible to look away. yuri gently wrapped an arm around yn’s waist, offering quiet comfort, which caused minji to slightly clench her jaw, while the other members leaned in supportively as yn spoke.

"thank you to our fans, to everyone who's believed in us," yn's voice trembled slightly, thick with emotion. "we wouldn't be here without you. this award means the world to us... and we promise to keep working harder."

as she finished her speech, the cheers erupted again, louder than ever, but minji hardly noticed. she was still mesmerized, completely taken by yn’s beauty and the way she seemed to glow under the stage lights. hanni glanced at minji again and saw the way she stared, almost hypnotized by stardom's leader.

"dude, are you okay?" hanni asked, raising an eyebrow.

minji blinked, snapping out of her daze, her face suddenly flushing. "what—uh, yeah, i'm fine," she stammered, her voice a little too quick.

hanni narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced but chose to let it slide. "okay..." she mumbled, though her suspicion lingered as she turned back toward the stage. minji's weirdness wasn’t something she was going to ignore forever.

yn linked her arm with yuri’s as they strolled through the hallway, trying to track down their managers. “leave it to us to get lost,” she sighed, glancing around with a hint of amusement.

“who cares that we’re lost? we just won artist of the year! everybody celebrate!” hana exclaimed, jumping onto eunjin’s back, earning a startled yelp from the quieter girl.

"we’re going to a sushi restaurant and eating everything," yuri chimed in, her tone playful as she squeezed yn's arm.

the girls were so caught up in their laughter and excitement that they didn’t notice another group walking toward them from the opposite direction.

summer, still laughing at hana almost slipping off eunjin's back, wasn’t paying attention and kept walking backward—until she crashed into someone with a hard thud. the hallway suddenly fell silent as everyone froze.

“ow!”

“oh, i’m so sor—” summer started to apologize, but her words faltered the moment she realized who she’d bumped into. “—ry,” she finished awkwardly, eyes locking with hyein from newjeans.

hyein’s eyes flashed with recognition, but she quickly masked it, shrugging off summer’s apology as if it were nothing. her gaze briefly flickered to hana, who had slid off eunjin’s back under the weight of the tense moment, though she averted her eyes as hana shot her an icy glare.

hanni stepped forward, her expression hardening as she glared at the five girls. her eyes locked onto summer. “you should be sorry. maybe watch where you’re going. hyein’s already had an injury—we don’t need another.”

summer’s eyebrows shot up, clearly not liking the tone. she glanced behind her, almost in disbelief, as if confirming hanni had really spoken to her like that. a dry laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head. “i know you’re not serious—”

eunjin gently placed a hand on summer’s shoulder, a silent plea to drop it. “leave it alone.”

yn stepped in, her voice calm but firm. “summer unnie, just let it go.”

but hanni wasn’t done. “what? i was just reminding your member to watch where she’s going. what’s the problem?” she snapped back, the situation wasn’t serious but she couldn’t hold back her resentment towards the girl group so she used this as an opportunity.

hanni didn’t back down, her focus now shifting to yn. “maybe your leader can explain it, so you understand better.” she said coolly, her challenge clear.

yn did exactly what summer had done—looked behind herself in disbelief—before she took a step forward, but yuri’s arm quickly wrapped around her waist, pulling her back. "leave it.” yuri whispered, though yn’s eyes were still locked on hanni's, before switching to minji’s who looks away.

“you’re right.” yn said her voice calm, “they’re just bitter.” she says her eyes still on minji before walking straight past the rest of the group the rest of the girls following behind her.

“you two,” yuri muttered, shaking her head as she pointed at yn and summer, “need serious anger management.”

yn cursed under her breath as her phone buzzed softly, hoping it didn’t wake yuri, who was fast asleep beside her in the hotel bed. glancing at the screen, she saw the message

she looked at the message.

“I’m near your hotel.”

she sighed quietly, running a hand through her hair before carefully sliding out of bed, moving cautiously so as not to disturb hana, who was sprawled out in a starfish position on the other bed.

with a quick glance around to make sure no one stirred, yn slipped out of the hotel room as quietly as possible and made her way down to the street outside, her heart racing with anticipation.

"hey."

minji looked up from her phone to find yn standing in front of her, a juicy couture cap pulled low over her head. minji couldn’t help but smile. "hey."

"you texted," yn said softly, her eyes scanning minji's face as if searching for something.

"i did."

"so..."

"i missed you," minji admitted, gently pulling yn closer by the arm. yn’s eyes dropped, her cheeks flushing as she looked away, clearly flustered.

"same," yn mumbled, clearly embarrassed. after a pause, she added, "your member really wanted to pick a fight today, huh?"

minji groaned, rolling her eyes as she tugged yn even closer, until there was almost no space left between them. "yeah..." she trailed off, unsure what to say. it wasn’t like she fully agreed with her group's dislike toward stardom, but she understood the frustration. stardom had come out of nowhere, sweeping up all the attention.

"let’s not talk about that," minji murmured, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the gold “s” necklace hanging around yn's neck. all of the stardom girls had one, each in either silver or gold.

minji’s tone shifted as she changed the subject. "there’s this 24 hour ramen place..." she started, watching as a smile slowly spread across yn’s face. "if you want to…"

"of course i do," yn replied, her smile now fully blooming, the tension between them melting away.

#new jeans #new jeans x reader #kim minji #kim minji x reader #minji #minji x reader #★stardom #girl group imagines

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silantryoo · 7 months ago

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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — EPILOGUE 3, begin again

jo yuri and choi yena's wedding.

WARNINGS ; implied depression, mentions of overworking, slightly suggestive, mentions of broken homes (2.4k)

y/n wished that it was her up on that altar with wonyoung.

the hues of white and gold twinkled against the sunlight, the heat of the californian sun blinding everyone in the venue. yuri's dress, a hanbok beautifully accentuated with gold, ruffled in the wind, yena standing across from her soon-to-be wife with tears in her eyes.

y/n couldn't focus as they began to open their letters, the couple's vows written in great length (and the last time y/n asked yuri, she had almost two pages).

all she saw was jang wonyoung, standing across from her with a soft smile, watching the couple exchange their speeches.

the wonyoung she knew was still there, bits and pieces of the shy, caring girl she fell in love with years ago making herself known through each smile and laugh. her smile was still angelic, but gone was the burden of her last name. she walked lighter, the shackles of expectations now released from her .

she wasn't jang wonyoung, the daughter of a politician. she wasn't jang wonyoung, the promising volleyball player and the hope of suma, nor was she 'victory' jang, yoo 'the ace of korea' jimin's shadow.

she was wonyoung, just wonyoung.

and somehow, despite the years apart, wonyoung looked as beautiful as ever. she seemed much older, wiser, yet it was all the same. with her hair slightly shorter, y/n could tell she had gained some weight in her cheeks. her eyes, still doe-like, never seemed brighter, and from where she stood, y/n could see someone familiar.

she didn't know why, but y/n wanted to fall in love with this wonyoung, just like she she fell in love with her wonyoung.

y/n's eyes tore away from her ex, the entirety of the venue cheering as yena and yuri kissed.

she clapped half-heartedly, her mind and eyes wandering to the tall girl standing on the other side.

she was happy for the two, knowing how hard it must've been for them. y/n knew about their rough patch and the long-distance relationship they had during yena's overseas training. she admired them honestly, the way they pushed through it.

y/n wanted to be like them, so sure they'd be better for the other person.

she glanced at wonyoung, their eyes meeting.

it was pathetic, honestly. she was still hung up on her ex from college despite graduating so long ago. even through her multiple counselling and therapy sessions, she couldn't let go of it.

she did all the steps. she explored her options, dating around but nothing truly sticking. she took care of herself, both mentally and physically. she focused on her career, finally a well known actress.

but it always ended with wonyoung in her heart, no matter how much her mind wanted it to stop.

yuri and yena walked down the aisle, and beside her, jiwon and minju had already begun to cry.

(she was sure after their toasts later, jiwon would sob a river.)

it was bittersweet, knowing that when she was young, she had always dreamed that she and her wonyoung would be walking down in a similar fashion, somewhere in france.

wiping a stray tear on her cheek, y/n smiled. they followed suit with the now-wedded couple, cheers erupting as flowers littered the hot air.

y/n looked forward at the couple.

wonyoung didn't.

the after-party started right after aeri's toast.

they had moved to a much bigger, more ambient venue once the ceremony had ended. it was a couple minutes away from the vineyard, yet it was enough to fill the entirety of the one hundred guests and the couple's requests.

wonyoung knew coming in that there would be a huge bar with a plethora of fine wines and liquor. yena had asked her months ago about the most expensive services money could buy. beside it, a photo booth with yena and yuri's cardboard cutouts stood. tables littered the floor, the front designated for the two brides. in the center was the dance floor, a huge, rave-like stage sat in the middle.

she was surprised that the two didn't bother to buy a disco ball while they were at it.

"yeah," yujin hiccuped, raising a glass of champagne in her hand. she watched as yena messily made out with her now-wife in the middle of the dance floor. "that's my friend!"

wonyoung smiled. part of her wished rei could've come to humble yujin a tad, but things were already hard on her with the mention of jiwon. if she were to see the kim, fully dressed up, she was sure to have a mental breakdown.

gaeul sat yujin down, the taller girl leaning on her fiancée.

"is yujin-unnie drunk already?"

her eyes wandered for a moment, settling on the actress who constantly invaded her mind.

unlike wonyoung who was mostly known for her brand, l/n y/n was a name you heard everywhere. her face was on billboards, her smile on screens. everywhere she looked, everything she heard was y/n, or at least adjacent to her.

it hurt for a while, seeing the girl you loved everywhere but not hearing from her. wonyoung had waited months for a text back, for a call.

nothing came, and it was enough for wonyoung to know that y/n was done with her.

but the years of drowning herself in horrible music, expensive wine, and using work as a distraction paid off. VKY took off, and the bigger it got, the worse and worse her mind became.

the first few months of success felt like a failure.

"she was drunk during the ceremony, actually." gaeul clarified, ignoring the sulking girl beside her.

wonyoung was thankful for them, dragging her away from her desk and forcing her to face everything she worked so hard to push away. gaeul, rei and yujin urged her to go get help, and despite her parents raising hell to prevent wonyoung, she did.

she hated taking those stupid pills though.

"i was not!" yujin sulked, clinging onto gaeul like saran wrap. "i was tipsy."

wonyoung glanced once more at her ex, y/n smiling at some joke yuri had made.

she got over it, the ghosting. it took a year or two (or three), but she did. she cried, she drank, she tried to forget. wonyoung even journaled, her baby blue leather book filled with tears and pain.

still, she could never get over y/n.

it was by accident. wonyoung had found out when she was going through her contacts with yujin, the two talking about other notable people to model for her newest collection. yujin, always making sure never forgot, mentioned the actress. out of curiosity, she checked, only to realize that her number was wrong.

and then she panicked even further.

('wrong number.' she had double-checked with jiwon.)

"baby," yujin whined, her eyes watery. "i wanna dance."

the olympian tugged on her fiancée, huffing at gaeul's sluggish movements. yujin's emotions always got amplified tenfold when she drank, and years later, it was still the same.

"i'm gonna go with her." gaeul grinned, gathering her purse as yujin tugged harder. "she'll start telling people we're married if i don't."

"we are!"

"we are not." gaeul's voice blended into the background, finally giving into yujin's request. "our wedding is next year, yujinnie."

the music continued to blast around them, wonyoung watching as they walked into the surprisingly active crowd (but what did she expect from yena and yuri's friends?). their figures blurred into the horde, leaving wonyoung alone at the table.

she looked at her glass, dripping as the cold mingled with the hotter air.

it was lonely, being twenty-six years old and watching your friends get married. she achieved success, all the things her father was sure she would never reach. but not once was she date. she didn't want to date anyone, and when she did, it wasn't her.

it wasn't y/n.

wonyoung felt like she was back in that stupid bathtub, drinking some wine she grabbed from the dollar store, and playing some music that someone probably dedicated to their ex. her eighteen-year-old self would probably sit beside her, crying in her arms. she'd probably even throw up on the ta-

"hey."

l/n y/n.

familiar yet different, everything and nothing, hers but no ones.

"hi." wonyoung smiled, her grin soft but her heart hammering.

y/n's nerves crackled in the dim light, the sun setting behind her. for years, she had dreamt about this, pathetically so.

"can i sit here?"

the designer nodded. "go ahead."

the decorated chair scraped the floor lightly, y/n taking place on it. she was close enough to feel, the heat of her skin permeating onto wonyoung's, their knees nearly touching. wonyoung strained her ears, hyper-aware of every move, every breath, everything that was y/n.

she was over the hurt, but wonyoung would never be over y/n.

"congrats, by the way."

wonyoung glanced at the shorter girl's hands, watching as she rubbed her knuckles. "on what?"

"on your brand." y/n whispered, her words coming out slightly forced and awkward. "i remember you always liked stuff like that."

she always tried to hide it, but y/n remembered freshman year, and the little pastel blue notebook wonyoung would hide in her nightstand.

"i did." wonyoung fought the urge to look up, to steal a glance, afraid that this was just another dream. "i just never had the time to."

fear always ruled jang wonyoung.

the fear of imperfection, of loss and pain. it lingered in the halls of the jang household, long before wonyoung was born. it was a birthright that she had no say in, one acquired through her father's actions and her mother's words.

wonyoung wasn't scared anymore.

the taller girl's eyes met with y/n's, a soft sigh escaping her mouth. y/n was way more beautiful than she remembered, her cat-like eyes and her mole pairing with her smile.

"how's hyunseo?"

"she's good." wonyoung closed her eyes, letting out another breath as she relaxed. "we visited hannah's grave a couple weeks back."

y/n had never heard of hannah, her name a foreign word to the actress. she tried to wrack her mind for any memories, but every single one came out empty.

"hannah?" y/n sighed softly. "who's hannah?"

wonyoung stared at her, her eyes softening. it felt so freeing, finally being able to say her name. "hannah was someone who meant a lot to me."

even after years, a near decade, y/n could still read the bits and pieces of wonyoung. how she'd look away, contemplating on telling more. how the girl take a sip of water, trying her best to calm down.

wonyoung was still so similar to the girl she met, the girl she loved, and the girl she let go.

"why didn't you tell me that you were the deleted number?" her mouth moved before she could process her words.

"huh?" wonyoung froze, and from the corner of her eye, she could see the crowd getting larger and larger. "oh, um, i didn't think it mattered anymore."

if wonyoung was eighty percent sure she let go, then she was sure y/n definitely did.

and before, as soon as those words left wonyoung's mouth, y/n would already be in hysterics. her heart would be ripped in two, and she'd go silent, trying her best to figure out what she did wrong.

"it mattered to me." it felt like the world lifted off her shoulders. "you should've said something."

their eyes met once more.

"i panicked." wonyoung's voice was sheepish, a small dust of red coating her face. "it was stupid of me, i know. i just..."

y/n's fingers twitched, her mind itching to touch her wonyoung again, to figure out who was in there.

"an old habit, i'm guessing?"

she'd love any version of wonyoung, whether it was hers or not.

"a very old habit."

the air danced around them as the night continued, the smell of booze multiplying with each minute. neither moved from their spot, worried that this was the last time - the last chance - they'd get to see each other. so the two sat, stealing glances and people-watching, content with whatever was going to happen next, whether it be good or bad.

a soft whisper traveled into wonyoung's ears, and if she hadn't spent the past eight years yearning for the sound, she might have missed it.

"i'm better now, wonnie."

wonyoung loved that nickname more than life itself. "sorry?"

"my promise." a smile flickered onto the actress's face, and wonyoung found herself afraid of losing her again. "i'm better now."

old habits die hard, but time marched forward. wonyoung knew that they changed, for better or for worse. she knew that no matter what, in sickness and in health, she'd love y/n. they weren't the same two naive girls who were hurting, and even though glimpses of them flashed through, wonyoung was willing.

y/n held her hand, and everything fell into place.

"thank you..." wonyoung could barely hold her tears back. "for keeping your promise."

"anything for you, wonnie."

y/n squeezed her hand, and the room fell silent. wonyoung felt like she was floating. she wasn't sure where she was gonna land, if it was gonna hurt her or anyone else. all she knew was that somewhere, y/n was waiting for her, just like wonyoung had been too.

to love someone was to do the right thing.

"are you seeing anyone?"

"no." a grin splayed across y/n's face, one that was only ever reserved for wonyoung. "i'm not."

jang wonyoung would wait forever. she would wait for the perfect time, sitting idly in the corner of the room. she'd count the seconds as they go by, watching as each hand moved at a snail's pace, but a pace nonetheless.

"good."

l/n y/n couldn't wait. she couldn't sit by and let nature take its course. she could prevent earthquakes and hurricanes if it meant protecting wonyoung. she'd move planets, shapeshift, become someone new... someone better.

"good?"

wonyoung stood up, her hand trembling. she reached out to her y/n, offering a hand. she couldn't keep waiting forever, and she knew y/n couldn't be the only one changing for rest of eternity.

(wonyoung was too grown to keep being an idiot, anyway.)

"dance with me, y/nnie?"

love.

it was still there.

"gladly."

THE END.

masterlist

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@moontealemonpie @rikisgeef @cutieseo @limbforalimb @ahnneyong @yumtooki @lcv3lies @sserajeans @jiwoneiric @blue4hour @trsrina @xyxlyn @misumiausworld @awkwardtoafault @d7dream @slowlyturninggay291 @perfectsunlight @juhyunsthirdwife @uzumakioden @txtbrainrot @rosiehrs @wlwgirlsworld @skisk1 @bzeus28 @deeznutzryu @jisooftme @jihyostolemyheart @li0ilthecxnt @eggomi @ddoxhan @zhivaxo @sweet-dhrafts @bearseulgs @marimo-anura @wonyoluvr @serenitygrace24 @ddeonutz @noiacha @livelaughchoerry @yunnybunnyy @ivy-aurora

#jang wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #aespa x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #silantryo

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badboydevotee · 5 months ago

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A Birthday for Frankenstein

“Whose birthday? Oh, mine? I forgot. Did Yuri leak my medical records?” -Jiro's Birthday Voiceline.

The sun peeked through the curtains of the small, cluttered lab Jiro called home, casting soft rays over stacks of medical texts and scattered vials. Today, however, the atmosphere was charged with a different kind of energy. The lab was decorated, albeit haphazardly—tattered streamers hung from the ceiling, and an oversized cake sat precariously on a cluttered table, half-hidden behind a pile of lab equipment.

You stood at the doorway, hands on your hips, taking in the scene. “Happy birthday, Jiro!” you announced, your voice brimming with enthusiasm.

Jiro, who had been meticulously adjusting the settings on one of Yuri's experimental devices, paused and glanced over his shoulder, blinking slowly as if trying to process your words. “Whose birthday? Oh, mine? I forgot. Did Yuri leak my medical records?” he replied, his voice monotone, betraying little of the surprise that flickered in his crimson eyes.

You laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “No, silly! I just thought we could do something nice for you this year. You’re always taking care of everyone else; it’s time someone took care of you.”

With a slight frown, Jiro returned to his work, adjusting his black face mask down to his chin. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I have deadlines to meet. Patients to check up on,” he mumbled, waving a hand dismissively.

“Just for a little while,” you coaxed, stepping closer. “Just one slice won’t hurt your busy schedule.” You gestured toward the cake, decorated with a small, hand-painted skull and crossbones, a nod to his macabre interests.

His eyes flicked to the cake, a faint glimmer of curiosity breaking through his usual indifference. “You know I can’t eat that much sugar,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, almost forming a smile.

You grinned, sensing victory. “Just one slice. Then we can get back to your experiments. Deal?”

With a resigned sigh, Jiro turned off the device and straightened, his posture still rigid, but the hint of a challenge sparkled in his gaze. “Alright. One slice. But only if you help me organize these records afterward.”

You beamed, clapping your hands together. “Deal!”

As you both settled down with the cake, the moment felt oddly warm, despite Jiro’s usual cool demeanor. He watched you with a mix of curiosity and bemusement as you cut into the cake, a skillful slice that revealed the rich red interior. “It looks… edible,” he remarked, his tone lightening just a bit.

“You mean it looks delicious!” you shot back playfully, handing him a plate with a generous slice. “Now, blow out the candles. Make a wish!”

“Wish? I suppose I could wish for more sleep,” he mused, his expression thoughtful. “Or maybe for an end to this endless nausea.” His eyes narrowed playfully as he glanced at you. “Or perhaps for you to stop bothering me about birthdays?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “How about a wish for both? You could use some self-care in your life, you know.”

With a soft chuckle—something rare and genuine—Jiro leaned forward, blowing out the candle with surprising fervor. “Alright. Wish made.”

You both dug into the cake and fed him in turns, the sweet taste juxtaposing the usual bitterness of his workload. As you chatted, sharing stories and laughing about the bizarre things that had happened in the lab, the tension eased from Jiro’s shoulders.

“So, Jiro,” you teased, taking a sip from your cup, “how does it feel to have a birthday celebrated?”

He paused, a shadow of a smile forming again. “Honestly? It feels… nice. Oddly nice.” He glanced at you, his expression softening as he added, “Thank you for this.”

“Anytime,” you replied, feeling a warm glow inside. “Just remember to take care of yourself, okay? I won’t let you forget your own birthday again.”

He nodded, a sense of gratitude mingling with the usual stoicism, as if he were beginning to understand the importance of these moments amid the chaos of his life. The day wore on, and laughter filled the lab, transforming it from a place of isolation into one of camaraderie.

As evening descended, you both returned to the lab equipment, but the atmosphere had changed. Jiro was still the calm, composed figure you knew, but now there was a glimmer of something more—perhaps it was hope, perhaps it was the promise of friendship—shining beneath his cool exterior.

And for the first time in a long while, Jiro felt a little less like a ghoul and a little more like a person deserving of joy.

Ao3 vers.

#yumejoshi #yume #tokyo debunker x reader #tokyo debunkers #fluff #birthday fluff #jiro kirisaki #tkdb x reader #tkdb #jiro kirisaki x reader

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ro4dlj · 4 months ago

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Some GLITCHX 2024 moments I liked a lot so I doodled them :3

Not the nuzi crumbs I expected but the nuzi crumbs I'll take.. (also made J purposely put pickles cause I thought it was funny)

Oil rose yuri!! Everyone clap !!

Aaaand some funnybunny and bunnydoll (GOD ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I DREW THEM)

Forgive me for not giving Jax and pomni personal designs Ragatha is the only important one /j

I'm too lazy to timestamp these moments but you can watch the glitchx 2024 over here!!!!

Okay baiii stay freshh

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bobateaqwq · 3 months ago

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okay. hmo. yuri dabihawks rapunzel AU BOOM EVERYONE CLAPPED AND CHEERED

#i will draw this soon.#ive been super busy sorry i havent been posting!!

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 3 days ago

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𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Synopsis: Split Rivers Sweetheart, a sweet little Junior who’s the lead singer of the schools show choir. The only issue is a certain head cheerleader has made it her life’s mission to disband your club with her family’s money. Unfortunately for her, you seem to have more support than you realize, maybe even from the golden boy himself. Wally Clark.

Notes: Modern AU! All characters are alive! Mentions of Alcohol, Drugs, partying! Reader and all characters are around 17-18 ish! Most of my inspo for this was from Glee since I’m rewatching the show. 80’s References & so on.

Masterlist // Chapter Four

The air in the show choir room was thick with tension. What started as an ambitious idea was quickly becoming a logistical nightmare. The cheerleaders stood on one side of the room, arms crossed, ponytails bouncing whenever they rolled their eyes. The show choir members stood on the other, looking just as unimpressed.

At the center of it all stood Claire Zolinski, clipboard in hand, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against the surface. Across from her, Charley had their arms crossed, gaze sharp. Maddie was beside them, shifting her weight like she was physically holding back the urge to say something snarky.

“Alright,” Claire exhaled, looking around at the divided room. “We’re running out of time. We need to at least get through Espresso before practice is over.”

Nicole clapped her hands together, trying to cut through the tension with enthusiasm. “It’s a high-energy song! If we nail the timing, it’s gonna look amazing!”

“It would help if the choreography actually made sense,” Charley shot back.

Claire stiffened. “It does make sense. You just don’t know how to keep up.”

Charley scoffed. “Right, because we definitely spend our time throwing people in the air for fun.”

“You don’t spend your time dancing, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, enough,” you interrupted, stepping forward before the argument could spiral further. “Can we at least try to get through this? Fighting isn’t gonna magically make the routine better.

Claire and Charley didn’t break eye contact for a moment longer before Claire finally sighed and looked away. “Fine.”

Maddie muttered something under her breath, but you ignored it, turning to Yuri, who was adjusting the mic stand. “Let’s start from the top.”

Simon cracked his knuckles, looking more excited for the dancing than the actual singing. “Let’s do this.”

Dawn hit play on the speaker, and the bass from Espresso filled the room. Immediately, everyone scrambled into position.

The first few beats started strong—Simon and Nicole nailed the footwork, and Yuri’s vocals were clean and controlled. But it didn’t take long for things to start falling apart. The cheerleaders weren’t in sync with the choir members. The formations were off. Some of the show choir kids were getting tripped up by the fast transitions.

By the time the first chorus hit, Claire threw her hands up in frustration.

“Stop, stop, stop!” she yelled, reaching over to pause the music. “This isn’t working!”

“Oh really?” Maddie shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I couldn’t tell.”

Claire turned to her sharply. “You could at least try instead of rolling your eyes every five seconds.”

“I am trying. It’s just hard to take this seriously when it’s obvious you don’t actually care about us being part of this. You just need warm bodies to fill your routine.”

Claire’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe? But it was gone just as fast. “I do care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place.”

Maddie crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Before things could spiral again, Yuri let out a sharp sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Enough. If we’re going to make this work, we need to simplify things where we can.” He turned to you, eyes sharp with decision. “You’re singing all the songs.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It’ll be cleaner if we don’t switch vocalists mid-performance. It gives the routine consistency, and let’s be real, you have the strongest voice for these songs.” Yuri’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Janet nodded in agreement. “It makes sense. Less moving around for us, and the focus stays on the performance itself instead of worrying about transitions.”

Claire, for once, didn’t argue, just crossed her arms and sighed. “Fine by me. As long as we can actually get through the choreography.”

You hesitated for a moment, but seeing everyone waiting for your answer, you finally nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Yuri said. “Now, let’s actually run this thing properly.”

The two groups exchanged glances, tension still thick in the air, but eventually, they all grumbled in agreement.

“Alright,” Claire said, rolling back her shoulders. “From the top.”

The music started again. And this time, despite the mistakes, despite the hesitations, despite the obvious divide in the room—something clicked.

It still wasn’t perfect, but for the first time, it actually felt like they might be able to pull this off.

By the time practice was over, the tension had eased—but just barely. The cheerleaders and the show choir weren’t exactly friends, but at least they weren’t actively trying to strangle each other anymore. Progress.

As everyone started packing up, Nicole clapped her hands together. “So, I talked to the theater department, and they’re in.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “In for what?”

“The setup for the halftime show. You know how they’re the fastest at putting sets together? They’ll be responsible for whatever staging we have on the field.”

Janet grinned. “That actually makes this a lot easier. They work fast, and they’ll make sure everything doesn’t fall apart mid-performance.”

Claire, still slightly stiff from earlier arguments, nodded. “Fine. But tell them not to overdo it. We don’t need a Broadway production, just something functional.”

Nicole smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. They’re already planning something over-the-top. You know how they are.”

Claire groaned, rubbing her temples, but didn’t argue.

“Alright,” Yuri sighed. “We’ll meet up tomorrow to go over everything again. Let’s hope it actually looks like a halftime show by then.”

With that, practice wrapped up, and everyone filed out—some leaving in pairs, others in quiet groups, all exhausted but determined.

The sun hung low in the sky, streaking the field with gold as the football team pushed through their drills. The air was thick with sweat, the sharp scent of churned-up grass, and the distant echo of cleats slamming against turf.

But none of that mattered to Wally Clark.

Not when the coach was in his face, practically spitting as he yelled.

“Pick it up, Clark! You’re not running plays like you mean them! You want a championship or not?”

Wally gritted his teeth, helmet tucked under his arm, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. “Yes, Coach.”

“Then act like it! You’re the best we got! You don’t bring your A-game, we don’t win. And I don’t lose!”

The words sank deep into Wally’s chest, pressing against the already suffocating weight of expectations. He knew all of this. He didn’t need to hear it again.

But before the frustration could fester, Coach blew the whistle. “Five-minute break! Hydrate!”

The players scattered, some jogging to the sidelines for water, others flopping onto the grass with exhausted groans. Wally exhaled hard, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the stress.

That was when the whistles started.

A couple of his teammates nudged each other, smirking as they tilted their chins toward the field entrance. “Well, hello, ladies.”

Wally didn’t even glance up. He’d seen the cheerleaders walk onto the field a million times before. It wasn’t exactly a life-changing event.

But then—

The music started.

At first, it was just a heavy beat pulsing through the speakers. But then, a voice cut through the field.

Clear. Strong. Captivating.

Wally frowned, finally looking up as he pulled his helmet off.

The cheerleaders were moving into formation, rehearsing their halftime routine. The show choir had set up near them, their small group arranged with microphones, preparing to run through the setlist. But Wally barely registered any of that.

Because he was focused on her.

Or at least, he was trying to.

He couldn’t see her—she was too far, blocked by some of the other performers—but he could hear her. And that was enough to make something inside him pause.

She sounded good.

Not just decent, not just okay. Really, really good. Like she belonged on a stage bigger than a high school football field.

And it bothered him.

Because he wasn’t expecting it.

His feet moved before he could stop himself, stepping toward the edge of the field, trying to angle himself for a better look. Just as he was about to get a clear view—

“Clark!”

Coach’s bark snapped him out of it, and he turned sharply, setting his jaw.

“Get over here! We’re going over plays!”

Wally clenched his helmet in one hand, giving the field one last glance. He still couldn’t see her.

But the voice stayed with him.

Even as he jogged back to his teammates, even as the coach started barking orders again—he could still hear her.

And for the first time in a long time, Wally Clark found something slipping through the cracks of football, pressure, and expectations.

Curiosity.

Soft shades of pink and baby blue painted the walls, the warm glow of fairy lights strung along the white curtains casting gentle shadows. Jewelry clinked softly against the edges of a porcelain tray on her vanity, catching the dim light like scattered stars. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh linen, an otherwise safe and dreamy space—if not for the muffled chaos drifting up from downstairs.

The shouting had started almost twenty minutes ago.

At first, you tried to ignore it. Pretended it was just another disagreement, a raised voice or two before everything settled down. But then something shattered.

Your stomach twisted.

You paced the length of you room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what to do. Could you do anything? If you went downstairs, you might make it worse. If you stayed put, you’d have to keep listening, the weight of every sharp word digging under your skin.

The sound of something else breaking made you flinch.

Your hands shook as you reached for your phone, quickly scrolling to Dawn’s contact. You pressed the call button and brought the phone to your ear, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pick up. Please pick up.”

The line rang once. Twice.

Straight to voicemail.

You exhaled sharply, throat tight. Of course. It’s late. She’s probably asleep.

The voices downstairs swelled again, and you quickly set your phone aside, not trusting your grip. Instead, you crawled onto your bed, curling up against the plush comforter.

It was all you could do.

Just wait.

Wait for it to stop.

Wait for the voices to drop back down into silence, for the tension to dissolve into an uneasy stillness.

Eventually, exhaustion won out.

Even with the distant echoes of anger in the air, even with the weight pressing heavy on your chest—your eyelids grew heavier. Your body gave in.

And as you slipped into sleep, the last thing you heard was the sound of someone walking away downstairs.

The steady rhythm of a basketball hitting the wall filled the room, punctuated by the occasional swish as it landed perfectly in the small hoop hanging over his door. Wally leaned back against his pillows, tossing the ball absentmindedly, watching it spin in the air before catching it again.

His phone buzzed on his nightstand.

He ignored it.

Another buzz. Then another.

Probably the guys in the group chat talking about practice, or the game on Friday, or something else football-related. He just didn’t care right now. He needed a break. A second to breathe without thinking about running plays, winning streaks, or his coach drilling it into his head that he was the key to a championship.

He exhaled through his nose, tossing the ball a little harder.

His mind wandered back to practice, to the way his coach got on his case about picking up the pace. It wasn’t like he was slacking off, but lately, it felt like no matter how much he gave, it wasn’t enough. The pressure was there, constant, sitting heavy on his shoulders.

His grip tightened around the ball.

Then—his thoughts shifted.

To her voice.

The rehearsal.

That halftime thing the choir was doing with the cheerleaders. He hadn’t planned on paying attention, but he did. More than he wanted to admit.

The sound of her voice had cut through the noise of practice, weaving through the air in a way that made him stop. He hadn’t even seen her—just heard her, like something drawing him in before he could think twice about it.

And now he was wondering.

Who the hell was that?

His phone buzzed again.

He let the ball drop into his lap and ran a hand down his face, staring up at the ceiling, still hearing the lingering melody in his head.

And for the first time all night, it wasn’t football running circles in his brain.

It was her.

Whoever she was.

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