#I’m sorry if this comes off as cringey I try my best not to

[eeveelikessoda]

Olivia Combs Ref Sheet!!

I finally have her ref sheet done!!! Sorry for not making one sooner!!

Now that I have a ref sheet for her, I can talk about her more! I’m gonna copy paste her info from my notes app lol

-23

-Female

-Irish American 

-5’8” (The same height as Jack!)

-Nickname: Oli

-Works in the Film Department as a reel inspector.  She basically goes over all the film reels and checks for errors or problems before they can be sent off to air (I’m not sure if this was an actual job back then, but it seems fitting. Joey was a perfectionist after all).

-Gets along really well with Norman Polk.  Basically besties, as they both relate to being exhausted and fed up with the stuff Joey pulls.

-Gets along really well with Jack Fain as well.   She enjoys spending time with him, since his positivity balances out her aloof nature.

-Gets along really well with Sammy Lawrence.  She likes to mess with him sometimes, but only because she feels like he needs to lighten up a bit.  They both get along because they are pretty stubborn.

-Rivalry with Lacie Benton. This studio ain’t big enough for two girls with mechanic skills.  They like to talk smack about each other. They got into a fight in the basement once, which Sammy promptly stopped Wally from getting involved in (dude wanted to break it up).

-Pretty neutral relationship with Thomas Connor.  They respect each other, but they don’t really talk much.  

-Enjoys Wally Franks company.  He’s a funny guy, and they would definitely get drinks together after work. Their relation went down the drain after Wally became the Ink Demon and she came back to the studio. She’s trying her best to make him snap back to reality.

-Pretty good friends with Shawn Flynn.  They’re both Irish, so they like similar things there, and love talking about their homeland.

-Neutral relationship with Susie Campbell.  She exists, not much else to say about it. Olivia does like her voice though.  Aware that Sammy loves he, and likes to tease him about it. After she comes back to the studio, she thinks she’s insane, but willing to try and help her.

-Doesn’t like Joey Drew at ALL.  Would probably murder him in the streets if he wasn’t signing the paychecks. Hates him even more after realizing what happened after she left.

-Didn’t really know Henry.  Knew of him, but very little about him.  They would probably get along pretty well though. During the second part of the AU (coming back to the studio) they tend to be a bit at odds due to Henry not trusting Norman, Jack, and Sammy, and her not liking how he’s trying to be leader all the time. They’ll work it out though.

-Neutral Relationship with Bertrum Peidmont.  They know of each other, but thanks to working in completely different departments, they don’t talk much.  She doesn’t really like how stuck up he is though.  He is aware of her and Lacie’s rivalry.

-Neutral positive relationship with Grant Cohen.  They understand the feeling of being screwed over by Joey, so they bond over that.  She does like to make fun of him for being British though.

-Quit before everything went down hill and Joey started messing with the ink on a larger scale.

-Surprisingly good at mechanics.  She often fixes miscellaneous things around the studio just because she can, or because she wants to make them run better.

-Might have Trypanophobia, the fear of needles.  Spiders, heights, the dark, she’s good with those, but she draws the lines at needles. It’s not really plot important, but I think it’d be funny to see her absolutely getting all antsy when the crew is trying to deal with a very insane Susie.

-Definitely the type to hold grudges.  She will always remember when you wronged her.  Even if it’s petty, she’ll remember.

-Likes to call people by nicknames or shortened versions of their name sometimes.  Like, she would definitely call Norman; Norm, and Sammy; Sam.  It’s just her little way of showing she cares.

-She has a very slight Irish draw to her words.  She sounds American, but tinges of her Irish Accent show through a bit.

-Favorite kind of music is definitely swing.  She’d probably lose her crap if she ever heard electro swing. In modern times, she would probably really like anything by Will Wood.

-Enjoys bitter and savory foods.  While she does like sweets, she loves the kick salt gives.  Her favorite food is probably pretzel bites, thanks to their filling nature and are easy to eat on the job.

-Takes her coffee battery acid black.  If she can’t see her reflection in the swill, then it wasn’t made right.  Although, she probably wouldn’t mind a bit of milk in it on some days.

-Enjoys horror/thriller movies.

-Her favorite animals are probably bats and cats.  Yes, a very dark and edgy choice, but she just thinks they’re slick.  In addition, she would also really like mudskippers.

-Favorite kind of weather is rainy.  She likes it when it’s just lightly raining, and she doesn’t need an umbrella.  However, she also loves it when it’s just absolutely pouring outside, like to the point where you could think it’s night outside.

-Her eyes light resistance is kind of jacked up at times.  Working in the pitch dark of a studio room with no light other than a projector running a cartoon definitely does something to your eyes.  It takes her a bit to adjust to the light whenever she comes out.

-She’s prone to migraines, since the sudden shift from pitch black to a lit room when she leaves her workstation hurts her head.

-She came back to the studio 5 years later (Yeah, it’s supposed to be 30, but this is my AU lol) due to her crushing guilt finally getting the best of her. She felt bad for quitting and leaving her friends to deal with Joey, since literally a year after she left, Joey screwed over everyone in the studio.

-Has a light scar across her shoulder from being a stupid kid.

-Hates anything frilly, like a dress or skirt. She would probably throw a fit if Susie offered to do her hair for one of Joey’s parties. She values comfort over style any day.

-Voice Claims (What I think she would sound like, or as close as I can get!):

Sargent Calhoun (Wreck It Ralph)

Mai (ATLA)

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn 99)

Sorry if this is really long. I just have a lot to say about her!! If you read through to the end, you are a trooper lol

[moonstruckme]

Hiiii your marauders fics are AMAZING!! I’m truly obsessed with them. Would you ever do an aftercare fic where the reader is in sort of an emotional subspace and is just super clingy? Totally fine if not just curious :)

Hi, thank you! I realize you said "just curious" lol but I decided to try my hand at it. I'm not super familiar with this stuff, so it might be kinda cringey lol--sorry! Anyway, thank you for asking/requesting lovely :)

cw: smut mdni, p in v, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 605 words

Your forehead crashes against Remus’ chest, panting breaths blowing warmth back onto your own face. 

Both of his hands had been gripping your hips, but now one coasts up the ridges of your spine, coming to rest on your upper back. 

“You’re alright,” he murmurs. 

You hum in response. It comes out a bit like a whine. You’re feeling teary and torn open, the emotions that had been heightening as you inched toward climax now crashing into the gulley below. 

Remus’ lips press gently to the top of your head. “Was that good for you, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you affirm readily. “Really good. Was it for you?” 

“I thought I made that apparent enough.” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, and you smile, turning your head to nuzzle your cheek against this chest. “Ready to get up?”

“No.” It’s almost a whimper. You needle your hands under his arms, wrapping yourself around him. “I wanna stay here.” 

He shifts, and you inhale sharply at the slight movement of his cock, still inside you. Shushes and apologies alike fall from Remus’ lips, but he leans up on his elbows, using one hand to tilt your face towards him. His expression shifts as he realizes your still-fuzzy headspace, lips pulling down.

“Oh, baby.” It sounds almost pitying, one knuckle stroking down your cheek lovingly. “You’re not going to feel better until you let me clean you up, dove.” 

Tears press at your eyes, but you do your best to sound reasonable. “I’ll feel better if we cuddle.” 

He kisses your forehead again. You recognize the apology in it and whine as he moves uncomfortably against your sensitive walls, sitting you both up. “We’ll still cuddle, I promise.” He slides you off his cock despite your protests. “Hey, you’re alright. I’ve got you, sweetheart. Not hurting, are you?” 

“A little,” you say, giving him doe eyes in hopes of some extra attention. But then Remus’ brow furrows concernedly, and you rethink it. “Not really, though. Not more than I wanna be.” 

He lets out a little sigh, pressing his lips to your forehead again. “You’re fine,” he says, seemingly to both of you. “Wanna have a bath, honey? We can cuddle in there, if you like.” 

“Or…” You give him a suggestive look, and he laughs. Not exactly the response you were looking for. 

“Sorry,” he says at your frown. “Sorry, dovey, you just looked too cute.” Admittedly, that softens you a bit. Remus squeezes your hip lightly, tilting his head as he considers you with an odd half-smile. “No, no more tonight. Think I’ve got you a bit too fucked out already, hm?” 

You pout. “Am not.” 

Remus hums, leaning forward to kiss your pushed-out lips. “Right, course not.” He lifts you up a bit, slipping out from under you. “You wanna stay here while I go start the bath?” 

“No.” Your tone pitches desperately, grabbing for his wrists as he stands beside the bed. Your vision blurs. “I want to be with you, Rem.”

“Okay, okay.” He brings his hands to your waist hastily, standing you up in front of him. “You’re fine, baby, you can come with. You gonna be okay with sitting on the counter while I get it all ready for us?” 

You blink at him interestedly. “Because I’m a good girl?” 

His chin comes down on your head and his arms wrap around your shoulders. You’re not sure what’s prompted the show of affection, but you’ll take it, nosing your way into the juncture of his neck. “Sure, darling,” he says, a definite note of amusement in his voice. “My good girl.”

[wcters]

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 750+

summary: you have your period and chris tries to help you

warnings/notes: swearing, established relationship, periods, sorry it’s so short but that’s the only thing that i could come up with that i didn’t find cringey at that moment

A lot of the time, you hated being a women. Constantly judged on how you dress and act, creepy men, unrealistic body standards, and more. But this time? It was periods. That time every month where your body lets you know you’re not pregnant but simultaneously punishes you for not being pregnant. Every woman hates it, every little girl wants it.

Usually spending time with your boyfriend and your best friends would help a little bit, just to make you feel less of a sack of uncontrollable emotions and pain, but that wasn’t the case this time. This time, everything was bothering you. You had left the triplets to take a nap in Chris’s room as to try and stop yourself from getting mad at them and breaking down for no reason, but you’re still bothered in here. The ticking of the clock, the air from the vent, every little noise was bugging you. You groaned and grabbed the pillow besides you, throwing it over your head.

Because of the object blocking your ears, you don’t notice the footsteps leading up the the bedroom door. “Babe?” Chris called out as he opened the door, “you okay?” You hummed and stayed where you were, too lazy and tired with everything to reply. “Y/n?” “. . . I think I’m dying.” You finally spoke, pain evident in your voice. “I need to be put down.” Chris quietly laughed at that. “You don’t need to be put down.”

“I may not need to, but I want to.” Chris grabbed your hand as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s wrong? Is your period?” You never felt embarrassed when talking about your period with him - you shouldn’t. You hated when some of your friends mentioned that their boyfriends would get grossed out when they talked about it. It’s a natural thing and it’s needed for them to live. You nodded, taking the pillow off you head and turning to face him. “I’m just so sick of it.”

“I know you are. And I would say I know it hurts but I don’t really know . . . At least not from experience.” You felt his hand brush up and down your back as you laid on your stomach. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked you, moving your hair tbh at fallen in your face. “My heating pad in the basket? Can you heat it up?” You groaned as a significantly sharp pain hit you, curling up. “Of course. Anything else?” Chris nodded. “Get rid of my uterus for me?” You looked up at him with a pleading smile. “Ask me later.”

You watched Chris as he moved to grab your heating pad and then open the door, slightly closing it but not fully as he left. While he was out, you figured you should change your pad. You did that, and stole a pair of loose boxers to put over top instead of the sweatpants you had on earlier. You were sitting up in his bed when he got back. “Are you wearing my boxers?” He asked you, placing the bag in front of you. “Yes. My sweatpants were bugging me and I was going to cry.” You grabbed your heating pad and leaned against his headboard, putting on your stomach and opening your legs. “Come here,” you patted the space between them, “I want to watch a movie.”

Chis knew better than to fight you, having dealt with you on your period many times before. It was you, but not dealing with any shit, and he didn’t want to make you cry. He took his shoes off and climbed on the bed and lied in between your legs. Before he put his head down, you put a pillow over your heating pad as to not burn him. “That’s really nice.” He commented as he lied down. “I know. That’s why I have it. Now, what do you want to watch?”

You ended up putting in a Disney movie, any other movie would probably get you upset in some way, so you both cuddled up and pressed play. When Nick knocked on Chris’s door later in the night and got no answer, he opened the door to find you two asleep with Chris in your lap. He took a quick picture and left you two alone, closing the door.

“Matt, look at this.” Nick called out to his brother that was on the couch. “What?” He was shown the picture and a smile formed. “Those two are so in love, it’s sickening.” He shook his head. “I know.”

[spenceragnewfics]

THE MEET CUTE | Trevor Evarts x F!Reader

I'm so sorry if this sucks!

Summary: As a popular Youtuber and close friend of Chanse, you get invited to be on TNTL and meet an unlikely friend.

Word Count: 614

Being an influencer wasn’t something you ever thought you would be. Granted, you did grow up in the peak age of online content so it shouldn’t have been too surprising when you decided to try your hand at it during the pandemic. You were bored and thought it would help the time pass, it did plus you got five million followers in the span of three years as well.

During that time, you met a friend named Chanse. You two met at a mutual friend’s house and have been best buds since. His humor works perfectly with yours and you two are known for being super close. He used to be in a lot of your videos over Zoom or Facetime which got him some popularity too.

It’s because of Chanse that you are sitting on the Smosh Pit set right now, getting ready to film TNTL. You had watched the series for years so it feels like a dream to be filming it, especially with your best friend being right next to you. You had met some of the cast and crew before shooting but this was something else. 

Sitting on the stool, your fingers are typing away when someone walks onto the stage. “Oh, hey, you’re Y/N, right?” A male voice asks and you look up to see the most beautiful man you have ever seen. His light brown hair and facial hair make his youthful face more mature but his glasses help keep his youthful look.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I am. And you are?” You ask, getting off the chair. “I’m Trevor. It’s great to finally meet you, Chanse has said a lot about you.”` You look at him shocked, “I promise that most of it is probably not true.” He laughs while shaking his head. “It’s all been good, I promise. I’ve also seen a few of your videos. I’, excited to see if I can make you laugh today.”

“I’m excited to see you try.” You say, smiling before everyone gets called into place. Since you’re the special guest, you ae chosen to go first. It’s a smooth and funny filming and Trevor is the last one to go.

He comes out in a girly wig and holding a play camera as vlog camera. He lays on the floor and holds the camera in a familiar position before you spit out your water when he speaks, “Hey, hey, hey, all my panbaes.” It’s the intro you used to use back in the pandemic because you thought it was funny.

You soon understood how cringey it was and changed it but it had become a meme amongst your fans and now will get even more attention thanks to Trevor.

The rest of filming goes well before it’s called a day. Walking over to Trevor, you giggle “You did awesome, I genuinely did not expect that to come up.” He shrugs, trying to play it cool.

“Eh, I thought it would be funny. Do a bit of a throwback.” He says, his cheeks getting red. “So, have you seen more of videos than your letting on?” You ask, suddenly feeling more confident.

“Yeah, I used to watch all the time back when the pandemic was happening. I still keep up but not as much as I used to. I really like your stuff.” You smile and feel your cheeks heat up at his confession.

“Well, I would like to thank you and would also like to ask if you wanna get lunch sometime. Maybe we can discuss some of your past stuff, Mr. Streamer.” He chuckles and nods, “Yeah, yeah I'd like that a lot.”

“Okay, it’s a date then.”

[upindreamland]

Your Smile - Fred Weasley

Fred Weasley x female!reader (she!her pronouns) one shot

Summary: Just Fred doing whatever he can to make you smile. 

Warnings: None. Let me know though. 

AN: I hope you enjoy! This is my first time writing for Fred and my first time writing a long fic in a while. It might be a little cringey but hey that’s okay. Enjoy!

————————

Fred Weasley loved a lot of things in life. From pranking people with George to playing quidditch. But there was one thing Fred loved more than anything, your smile. Ever since Fred met you on the train to Hogwarts during your first year, he’s been hooked. Doing anything he can to make you smile. 

The first time he purposely tried to make you smile was during first year when he found you alone in an alcove crying.

Fred was looking for you everywhere. You didn’t come down for dinner and he was getting worried. He hasn’t known you for long but what he did know is that you were never one to skip out on a meal. When dinner was almost over Fred decided to roll up some food and excused himself before heading off to look for you. He finally found you sitting in some hallway. 

“Y/N” he called out 

When he saw you he noticed tears in your eyes. 

“Hey what’s wrong?” he questioned with worry in his eyes, kneeling down to sit by you. 

“Huh? Or nothing I’m fine” you said while trying to discreetly wipe the tears from your eyes, scared to open up to him. 

“Okay but just so you know I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.”

Noticing that you weren’t going to say something he continued on

“I brought you some food just in case you were hungry.”

He pulled out the food he brought and handed it to you. You took it and offered him a small smile. 

You both sat together in silence as you ate. Comfortable silence. A couple of minutes later after finishing you spoke up 

“Thanks Fred. I know it might not be a big deal but…” you hesitated tears forming again 

Without thinking Fred reached for your hand in comfort. You were thankful to the low lighting in the hallway, for he would have been able to see the blush that rose on your cheeks. He gave you a reassuring look as you continued on

“I just… I miss my family. I haven’t been away from them for this long. I just don’t know what to do. I feel alone.”

“Oh. I'm sorry Y/N. It’ll be okay. I promise. If it helps, I'll be right by your side if you ever need someone to just sit with or talk to.”

By now the tears have stopped but you still had a small pout formed on your face. 

Knowing you were at least feeling a little bit better, Fred decided to do what he knew best to make you feel a lot better. Tell you a joke.  

"Hey there, (Y/N)," he said with a mischievous grin. You looked at him confused. 

"I've got a joke for you." 

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to expect. "Okay, I'm listening," you said with a small smile.

"Why did the chicken cross the playground?" Fred asked, unable to contain his laughter.

You rolled your eyes, already sensing that this was going to be a silly one. "I don't know, Fred. Why?"

"To get to the other slide!" he exclaimed, laughing so hard that he nearly doubled over.

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculous joke, and before you knew it, the two of you were both giggling like children on the playground. The tears were officially gone. 

"Thanks for the laugh and the food, Fred," you said, still chuckling.

"Anytime, (Y/N)," he replied with a wink. 

“Come on, let's head back to the common room.”

As you both walked away, still smiling, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Fred's infectious sense of humor. From the short time you’ve known Fred, he always had a way of making everything feel a little bit brighter.

Opening up to him might have been the best decision you have ever made. 

————————

The second time was during 4th year when he realized that the crush he had on you wasn’t going away anytime soon. 

As you walked through a hallway to get to the library, you heard someone whisper your name. You turned around and saw your best friend grinning mischievously at you.

"Hey there, Y/N," he said, holding up a small box wrapped in red and gold paper. "I got you a little something."

You took the box from him and opened it, revealing a set of brightly colored enchanted origami animals. They were so adorable that you couldn't help but smile.

"Oh my gosh, they're so cute!" you exclaimed, picking one up and bringing it closer to inspect.

Fred chuckled. "I knew you'd like them. I went out and found them after you talked about them the other day." He didn’t mention that he got them because he knew how happy they would make you. 

“You remember that?” You asked shocked that he remembered something as tiny as that. 

“Of course I did. That’s what best friends do,” he said. 

As you played with the paper animals, your goal to head to the library forgotten, Fred leaned in closer to you. "You know, Y/N, you're almost as cute as these little guys," he whispered, winking at you. 

You felt your cheeks turn red and couldn't help but smile. "Thank you Fred,” you said with your heart pounding. Fred definitely wasn’t the shy type when it came to making his feelings clear. You on the other hand weren't as daring but decided that you’d give it a chance. “You’re pretty cute as well.” 

Shocked by your courage Fred couldn’t help but chuckle. He wasn’t expecting for you to reciprocate the same feelings as him. He was glad you did though. 

After a bit he spoke up, “I was thinking we could head outside to have a little picnic with these little guys." 

You laughed at his way of asking you out on a date. "Sounds like a plan, Weasley."

That was the first of the many dates you too would go on together. 

————————

The third time was when he realized it was time to make it official with you. 

You two didn’t really talk about becoming official since the switch from best friends wasn’t that noticeable. All he knew was that he found himself falling harder and harder for you - being drawn to your kind and caring personality he’s loved for so long. He knew he wasn’t going to find anyone else that was going to be able to put up with his constant pranks or clingy behavior after a tough quidditch practice. You were it for him. So, when Fred realized he hadn’t officially asked you to be his, he got to planning. 

The time came during one afternoon as you were both sitting by the lake after a long day. You two hadn’t seen each other for most of the day since you had to meet with a classmate and Fred had quidditch practice.

Fred had packed a small picnic basket with some of your favorite snacks. Hidden between them was a little box he made with a note and a necklace with the date on it. As you were eating you mindlessly grabbed the box. When you opened it, you couldn’t help but gasp. 

Y/N I’ve loved you for forever and I’m hopeful you’ll allow me to call you mine? - Fred

“Yes of course Fred!” You exclaimed while throwing your arms around him. “I love you so much.”

When Fred pulled away the sight he was met with made all of these years worth it. Your bright smile lit up your whole face. He was reminded once again of one of the reasons he was so in love with you. 

You probably smiled the hardest that day. 

————————

The fourth time was when he felt like he hadn’t seen your smile in years (it was like a minute)

Throughout your relationship with Fred, his mischievous side was becoming more noticeable, and today was no different. You were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, buried in a book, when Fred plopped down next to you.

"Whatcha reading there, Y/N?" he asked, peering over your shoulder.

"It's just a muggle novel," you replied, trying to keep your place in the book.

"A muggle novel, eh?" Fred said, his eyes lighting up mischievously. "I bet I could make it a lot more interesting."

Before you could protest, Fred had snatched the book out of your hands and began to wave his wand over it. Suddenly, the characters on the page began to come to life, jumping off the paper and into the room.

You looked around in amazement as the characters and scenes from your book suddenly came to life. When he decided to erase the spell, you couldn’t but chuckle at your boyfriend.

"You're insane, Fred," you said, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

"Insane? No, just a little bit crazy," Fred replied, winking at you. "You know you love it."

As the craziness of the moment came to an end and you opened back up to your page, you couldn't help but smile. Fred may have been a troublemaker, but he was your troublemaker.

————————

The last time (for now) was when he went out of his way to plan the best date night ever.

The year was coming to an end meaning classes were becoming stressful. Fred noticed and decided to try and help you. 

You were walking back to the common room when all of a sudden Fred was by your side, a charming smile on his face.

“Gosh Fred you scared me!” You said putting a hand up to your chest.

"I have a surprise for you," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes. "What kind of surprise? You know I have work to do."

"It's a secret," he said, holding his finger to his lips. "But I promise you'll love it."

Fred led you down several twisting corridors and up a staircase before finally stopping in front of a portrait. He muttered a word and the portrait swung open, revealing a hidden room filled with anything you could ever think of.

"Ta-da!" Fred exclaimed, gesturing to the room.

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight. "What's all this for?"

"Just because," Fred said with a shrug. "I thought you could use a little cheering up."

You felt your heart warm at his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Fred. This is amazing."

He grinned. "Anything for you, Y/N."

You spent the next couple hours exploring the room - enjoying the time you were spending with your boyfriend without a care in the world. It was definitely something you needed. 

As you were leaving the room, Fred stopped you for a second and turned you around so you were facing him.

"Did you know I love your smile? It makes me the happiest when I realize I’m the reason you’re smiling," he said softly.

You blushed at his words grinning up at him. “How did I get so lucky? Thank you for always making me smile. You always know how to brighten my mood.”

Fred's face lit up, and he pulled you closer to give you a sweet kiss. You both pulled away smiling from ear to ear. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling grateful to have such an amazing boyfriend.

————————

AN: that’s it! I hope you like it. Feedback is always welcome. Thank you for reading and come talk/request anything!

[syrstab]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ SUNSET SPOTTING!

a/n : hi so this isnt my best piece of work, i js felt like i needed 2 post :P (also, im REALLY shit at writing furina + neuvillette, i js wanted to try writing them, sorry if its inaccurate :( +THE BEGINNING IS HARD TO READ LIKE I HATE IT SM ARRRGHHH - i reread this and i found it MAD cringey sooo..

SUMMARY - basically you and furina suggested to neuvillette to go out in public. of course neuvillette was a busy man, but he just has to make time for you. ( also watching the sunset :> )

you and furina were catching up over some tea, as you two rarely saw each other as you were both so busy with work.

“hey furina..”

“yes y/n?” furina looked up, her bright blue eyes meeting yours, taking a sip of her tea

“you, me and my darling neuvillette should go out today.” you say proudly, as if all three of you would go out together. it’s always just been you and furina.

furina giggled when you called neuvillette your 'darling' and took another sip of her tea whilst looking around. “your absolutely obsessed with neuvillette, y/n. I personally find it adorable how you gush over him twenty-four seven , but, i highly doubt all three of us would go out. neuvillette is practically drowning in work…”

you pursed your lips, as if you really thought about it

“just you watch furina, all three of us WILL go out together!” you say with a smug smirk, getting out of your chair.

“y/n, y/n, y/n…” furina sighed putting her tea down and following you.

you proudly walked to neuvillettes office, where of course, he’s doing boring documents and signing papers.

“how’s my gorgeous, cunning, sexy, handsome, beautiful, iconic, courageous boyfriend THE neuvillette doing?” you beam whilst opening the door, furina trailing behind you

“well, hello to you too, y/n.” neuvillette smiles. he knew you were going to ask him for something, as you don’t usually call him those lovey-dovey names. at least, not all together.

“i have a teeny, tiny itzy bitzy request for you.” you grin, furina facepalming knowing damn well this whole 'going out together' thing isn’t going to happen and it’s just going to be you and furina, again.

“go on, my love.” neuvillette stops writing and places his quill down, then interlocking his fingers together like some sort of ceo, i mean he is chief justice of fontaine..

“sooo… i was wondering if you could stop working for an hour or two, to go out in public to clear our minds? we both know how stressed out you’ve been recently.” you furrowed your brows at that last comment, attempting to persuade him to stop working

he purses his lips, glancing at the window in his office “mmm… as much as i want too, i simply cannot. i’m sure furina told you about how much work i’m doing.”

“pretty pleaaaaseeeeee neuuuuuvi?” neuvillette knew you were the type to try to get anyone do anything for you, and the fact you added his adorable nickname you made for him, he REALLY thought about it.

“come on y/n, maybe just us TWO should go out together. let’s LEAVE this poor man alone.” furina says, adjusting her little top hat on her head, attempting to egg you on with the comment she just made

“you’re SO right furina!! we should DEFINITELY go out together, WITHOUT the chief justice of Fontaine!!” you and furina turned around, backs facing neuvillette, arm in arm, smiling at eachother

“have fun, you two. don’t get into too much trouble.” neuvillette waved you and furina off, your mouth agape as neuvi said this. was this man REALLY being serious?

“uggghhhhhhh please neuvi? just for an hour! pretty please with a cherry on top?” you turned around, and at this point you were properly begging for this man, and neuvi took notice of your whiny voice

furina chuckled at how desperate you were for him to go out. neuvillette usually kept himself out of the public eye, unless you dragged him outside.

you grasped neuvillette’s hand, pulling him outside his office. “you can do those shitty documents later, the suns about to set.. and there’s nothing like watching the sunset with my lovely boyfriend!” you gleamed at neuvi, furina leading you outside to the nearest aquabus station she could find.

you found yourself on the aquabus which Aeval was always on, and you, furina and neuvillette stroke up a conversation with her. you weren’t talking about anything specific, just whatever came to mind.

after a while, you came to romaritime harbor. there weren’t many people there, as it was getting late.

“you don’t have to act all tough and regal, neuvi.” you nudged him lightly, as it seemed he was holding a lot of weight on his shoulders, after all, he is a very important man.

“i suppose so. there isn’t many civilians around today..” neuvillette huffed, dropping his shoulders ever so slightly

“awwh, what cuties you two are…” furina giggled to herself as the three of you walked towards the edge of the balcony

the sun was setting behind sumeru’s desert mountains, and everything felt perfect.

you stood in between furina and neuvillette, staring out whilst your head rested on neuvillette’s shoulder. there was a comfortable silence in the air.

“i love you, neuvillette.”

“i love you too, y/n.”

“...aaaaaaand BOOM! you get married to eachother, have kids and live happily ever after.” furina smirked, knowing you’d blush at the thought of getting married to the iudex himself,  neuvillette.

“oh shush, furina.” you waved her off, one hand covering your cheeks as they were painted a rosy pink

“…i would like that.” neuvillette says, looking at the painted sky

“...like what?” you asked, looking up at him

“i would like to get married to you, and have children with you.” neuvi looked down at you, making eye contact

“i would like that, too.” you smiled at him.

“ooooooooooooooh~” furina says in a high pitched voice, leaning forwards

“oh shut up, furina!” you and neuvillette groaned in unison, and once you both realised you said that at the exact same time, you all started laughing together.

[comic-book-jawns]

Ricochet

“I’m sorry.”

Andrea truly doesn’t want to hurt Lena. She never has.

But this conversation is already nine months overdue. Well, nine months, plus three years. And if she’s doesn’t take advantage of this adrenaline high, she’s not sure when she’ll get the nerve back.

“For how I left.”

The way Lena tenses and crosses her arms tighter around herself tells Andrea she doesn’t have to elaborate.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault I threw myself at you. And I’m the one who ran first.”

Well, yes, and Andrea obviously does not regret not kissing a 14-year-old back a few days before she left for college.

“I couldn’t give you what you wanted. But I… I could’ve give you closure.”

Lena scoffs.

“I would never have let you.”

Andrea thought so too — it’s how she eventually convinced herself that ghosting her only real friend from boarding school had been for the best.

It’s only occurred to her over the past few months that that was never the point.

“You would’ve known that I’d tried.”

***

Lena had really thought (cringey as it was) that she might actually cry if they won ICCA’s. If she played a part in making Kara’s dream since her freshman year come true.

Only Lena hadn’t really caught on that doing so had become her dream somewhere along the way. And, well, with her track record of dreams coming true…

Unfortunately, turns out that disassociating over placing first in a fucking a cappella competition is far more mortifying than tearing up.

Especially in front of someone like Kara. Not that there is someone else like her.

So she’s supposes she should be rather grateful to her team captain for bringing her back to reality… by bringing up her most mortifying experience of all time.

Of course, crying over your childhood crush saying sorry for not like you back is also quite cringey. But Lena’s dignity has lost sight of the shoreline at this point.

“So, yeah, that - that’s what I wanted to say. In case, being a complete bitch to you since August hasn’t been a sufficient apology.”

On the one hand, Lena is surprised by the genuine laugh that bursts out of her amidst the tears. On the other hand, Andrea is the only person who’s ever rivaled Lena’s dry sense of humor.

“I know it’s not an excuse, but… it was easier than worrying about disappointing you again.”

Already nodding along, ready to wrap this up, Lena freezes when she actually process what Andrea said.

“What?”

At the time, she’d been so blinded by hurt and shame for letting herself dream she ever stood a chance that she’d never even tried to put herself in her ex-best friend’s shoes.

It didn’t occur to her until she was actually getting ready for college herself that she had no idea what she’d do if a 14-year-old girl kissed her out of the blue and said she was in love with her.

Not that that was a remote possibility, Lena having sworn off friendship after convincing herself that Andrea had never given a shit about her.

Trying to convice herself, that is. Because she knew deep down that it was a lie. And that was the most excruciating part.

Still, knowing teenage Andrea had cared about her in some form… Well, Lena hadn’t just run into her at the Activies Fair three years later — very alarmed because it was not school Andrea had left for that summer — and assumed…

“I could never get your face out of my head.”

Humiliating, Lena feels herself blush, full well knowing Andrea didn’t mean it like that, and scratches at her wet cheeks as cover.

“No matter what Lex and your mother did, you - you wouldn’t cry. And I was always relieved.”

Oh? Lena’s not really sure what to say to that. But what really catches her off-guard is the sudden rasp in Andrea’s voice. And when she finally looks at the older girl for the first time since she joined her out here in the parking lot, she finds her swallowing harshly.

“Because I knew how to distract you. I was good at it.”

Andrea meets her gaze with an even more jarring attempt at a smile.

“But in the end, it was me.”

Andrea turns fully away then, her back to Lena, so all she can see is the hand running stiltedly through dark hair still pulled into a bun.

“I made you cry.”

Lena doesn’t need to see her face, though.

***

Precariously carrying five cups of steaming hot tea in her bare hands — every kind available; you’d think a singing competition would have a more robust selection?! — Kara considers it quite an accomplishment that she doesn’t immediately give herself third-degree burns when she finally finds the freshman in the parking lot.

Successfully placing them all down on the pavement doesn’t prove to be much easier, but Kara isn’t willing to tempt fate when she’s so preoccupied with the scene in front of her.

Kara does consider her fellow senior a friend, but more in the way she considers a lot of acquaintances her friends. And, frankly, her treatment of Lena has driven a wedge between them that Kara’s doesn’t know if she’s all that interested in dislodging.

Sure, Kara had eventually convinced her that Lena is the team’s future, literally.

The reason they’d used the same repertoire for years was because no one knew how to arrange new material. Nothing better than what they already had at least.

Andrea had never admitted their severely lacking musicianship, of course. So Kara had done it for her… after not defending Lena when she’d previously had the chance.

The point is Kara’s friendship with Lena “it’s just math” Luthor is her priority. She can live with never speaking to Andrea again after graduation. The thought of anything changing between her and Lena after graduation has been making her nauseous for weeks.

“So… Kara?”

Kara doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, she swears. Honestly, she’d kind of expected them to pick up on her presence whether she dropped the cups or not. But it seems the pair is still in their own little bubble, Andrea demurely wiping her face while pulling back from the embrace. Lena keeps her close, though, loosely holding her elbows.

“Kara?”

“I know, Lena.”

“Know what?”

Kara definitely should’ve turned around by now. She’s hardly in a position to get self-righteous about secrets when she has yet to tell her best friend that she won’t be leaving campus, after all.

Staying on for a Master’s in Journalism hadn’t been her plan even back in the fall. But a lot has happened between now and then, so.

Andrea sighs with none of her characteristic exasperation.

“I knew you had feelings for me before you kissed me.”

Kara is positive the only reason she doesn’t audibly gasp is because she’s too shocked. Well, that and Lena scoffs loudly as she takes a step back.

She’d figured that Lena and Andrea had a history, per se. But her mind had never gone… there.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t act like it.”

“How was I supposed to act?”

In four years, Kara has never heard Andrea speak so gently, without even a hint of condescension to boot.

Lena’s more choked scoff seems to suggest she’s not used to it either… and that Kara is probably missing something.

“You don’t have to believe me. And if you want to tell me I’m wrong about Kara, go ahead.”

Yeah, she’s definitely missing something.

“But… if you want to tell me I’m right, I certainly wouldn’t discourage that either.”

Lena’s chuckles in that beautifully thick way she does when Kara gushes over one of her mash-ups profusely enough.

“Fuck you.”

“Still too young for this ride, sweetie. Sorry.”

Kara can’t help her eye roll at Andrea gesturing at her own body like it’s a letter on Wheel of Fortune. But then Andrea frowns, which makes slightly more sense when Kara hears Lena’s abruptly dejected tone.

“It’s the same.”

“What is?”

“You - you and me. Me and Kara. It’s the same age gap.”

“Yes, but I’ve known you since you were a baby.”

“Seven.”

Even as her mind races — scrambling for the missing context — Kara can still hear Lena’s scowl clear as day. Andrea waves dismissively.

“Same difference.”

But then she takes a step forward, her arms hovering pretty awkwardly for someone who was just clinging to Lena a minute ago before she settles them on Lena’s shoulders.

“You jump. I jump. Okay?”

Kara recognizes the quote instantly, but it doesn’t clear anything up for her. Other than it means something to Lena, judging by the way she loops her arm through Andrea’s and leisurely leads them further out into the parking lot.

So they’re thankfully well out of earshot by the time Kara accidentally kicks over all the cups.

[kiyareverie]

I don’t know what I just wrote- it’s kinda cringey but

Description: the Mizo Middle Five get to know Y/N L/N, a charismatic and mysterious person with connections to the underworld. Despite their high-profile connections, they bond with the group over shared moments, offering their insights into the world of gangs and bringing out the best in each of the boys.

---

Title: I don’t have a title for this one…sorry

---

The Tokyo sky was painted in hues of orange and pink as the Mizo Middle Five gathered in their usual spot behind the old shrine. Takemichi was already complaining about something trivial, while Makoto and Takuya bickered over who was better at the latest arcade game. Yamagishi, ever the informant, was rattling off rumors about a gang fight in a distant part of town. Akkun sat back quietly, spinning their comb between their fingers, until their eyes shifted to the shrine's torii gate.

“Oi, Takemichi,” Akkun said, their voice tinged with a mix of awe and amusement. “Did you tell *them* about this place?”

All heads turned to see a person stepping gracefully through the gate. Their long hair shimmered in the fading sunlight, and they wore a designer jacket over their school uniform, effortlessly blending elegance and casual style. They carried themselves with the kind of confidence that turned heads wherever they went, and the slight smirk on their lips hinted at mischief.

“Is that…” Yamagishi stammered, their voice unusually high-pitched. “*Y/N L/N*?! The Y/N L/N?”

Takemichi scratched the back of their head sheepishly. “Yeah, uh, they’re… kind of my childhood friend.”

“Childhood *what*?!” Makoto exclaimed, nearly choking on their words. “How come you never told us you’re friends with *the most popular person in Shibuya*?!”

Y/N rolled their eyes but couldn’t hide the amused smile on their face. “I’m not *that* popular, you know,” they said, though the blush dusting the boys’ cheeks said otherwise. “And Takemichi, seriously? You didn’t tell them about me? After everything?”

“It’s not like I thought it’d come up!” they protested.

Y/N laughed, their voice light and warm. It was no secret they were a figure of interest in Shibuya, not just for their beauty, but for the rumors swirling about them. Whispers of their ties to the underworld, their casual conversations with gang leaders, and even legends like Wakasa Imaushi and Shinichiro Sano. Despite this, here they were, hanging out with the Mizo Middle Five like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So, what are you guys up to?” Y/N asked, sitting down next to Akkun, who nearly dropped their comb in shock.

“Uh, nothing much,” Akkun said, trying to play it cool. “Just, y’know, talking about stuff.”

They raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but let it slide. “Well, since I’m here, I might as well join in. It’s been a while since I’ve just… hung out.”

---

As the evening wore on, Y/N proved they weren’t just a pretty face. They joined in their banter, their wit sharper than Makoto’s lame pick-up lines. They teased Yamagishi for their encyclopedic knowledge of gang lore, yet somehow ended up sharing tidbits only someone on the inside would know.

“You guys talk about gangs like they’re celebrities,” Y/N said, shaking their head. “If only you knew how much trouble they really are.”

“Wait, wait,” Yamagishi interrupted, leaning forward. “You’re saying you’ve actually met Wakasa Imaushi?”

Y/N smirked. “Met him? He’s like an older sibling to me. Shinichiro too.”

The group collectively gasped, and even Takemichi looked surprised. “You never told me that!”

“You never asked,” they said with a shrug. “I grew up around them. My parent runs a business they used to… ‘help’ out with. But don’t worry, they’re good guys. Mostly.”

“Mostly?!” Makoto squeaked.

Y/N laughed again, their voice genuine and lighthearted. “Relax, they wouldn’t hurt you. Not unless you gave them a reason.”

---

Over the next few weeks, Y/N became a regular presence in their group. They were like a magnet, drawing the boys together with their charisma and charm. But more than that, they brought out the best in them. They encouraged Akkun to keep practicing their hairdressing skills, promising to be their first high-profile client. They challenged Yamagishi’s knowledge, introducing them to the real stories behind the legends they idolized. They even humored Makoto’s attempts at flirting, though their sharp retorts always left him red-faced.

And Takemichi? They reminded them why they mattered, why their kindness and determination made them special. “You’ve got something most people don’t, Takemichi,” they told them one evening. “You care. Don’t ever lose that.”

---

One evening, as they sat around the shrine, Y/N glanced at their phone. “Alright, you guys have been so great, I want to do something for you. How about I tell you a few stories?”

The boys eagerly leaned in as Y/N began to share a mix of stories from their life, some funny, some surprising, but all captivating. Their tales of their connections to the underworld, their childhood spent around gang legends, and even the occasional wild adventure with friends kept the group hanging on every word.

When they finished, the boys were left in stunned silence, each of them processing the fact that their seemingly normal life had suddenly become a little more... colorful with Y/N around.

“That was amazing!” Yamagishi exclaimed. “No wonder you’re so popular!”

Y/N laughed, bowing dramatically. “Thank you, thank you. But don’t let it go to your heads, okay? I’m still just Y/N.”

Still, as they sat back down, the boys couldn’t help but feel a little starstruck. Y/N L/N wasn’t just a friend— they were a force of nature. And somehow, they’d been lucky enough to find themselves in their orbit.

---

That night, as Y/N walked home with Takemichi, they glanced over at them. “You’ve got a good group, Takemichi. Don’t ever take them for granted.”

“I won’t,” they said, smiling. “And hey, thanks for being part of it.”

Y/N grinned. “What can I say? You guys are growing on me.”

And with that, they disappeared into the Tokyo night, leaving behind the echoes of their laughter and the memory of their stories that would live on with them.

---

Pls leave me requests or something-

Idk what to write about and I’m not that creative 😗

[killerlookz]

I NEED TO GET SOMETHING OFF MY CHEST

I am a young adult. Born in a time where it was seen as cringey/insane to be obsessed with a singer. I remember going to school and my friends making fun of one direction fans/ Justin Beiber fans. I must admit I was in on that train at one age, but then it hit me.

What the fuck is wrong with people enjoying a person's music and showing their love?

Nobody is being harmed. Nobody is being discriminated. Nobody is being in anyway impacting the lives of others. Why do we as a society put down these people? (This excludes fans that were harassing/stalking)

And for years I respected those types of fans from a distance, never quite understanding their love but seeing how it brought them so much joy.

Then I discovered Joost.

My world has changed completely. I began listening on the day before TRAFIK came out and I was hooked.

I love everything about him. From his music, persona, fashion, friends, and even this fan base.

I am embarrassed sometimes of what a big fan I am, and that's not right. I wish nothing but the best for Joost and in my time of being a fan I have ensured I have done nothing that could make him uncomfortable.

...

Except maybe read RPF but I truly in my heart of hearts don't think he will mind, because the shit he wrote about himself was no better. And if he ever came forward saying it made him in anyway uncomfortable I'd never read it again.

Seeing how you and many other have explained RPF has really helped me get over my worries. Though I won't be putting it on display any time soon, I am a huge Joost fan.

Anyway, thank you so much for opening my eyes to the wonderfulness of Joost and reblogging so many different types of media.

You have helped me discover so many different blogs that have quickly made their way into my heart.

Sorry if this is all a lot. I just really needed to talk it through and I admire you a lot :)

hiiiii !!! thank you so much for your message :-)))))

i don’t know what it is in particular about the joost fandom that is so anti rpf hahaha but it’s kind of commonplace in most other fandoms so i’m not sure where the insane amount of outrage comes from when joost hasn’t said anything about it himself …

like i know there are obviously people who are anti-rpf in every fandom but its not usually such a big talking point??? like people keep it to themselves.

even I MYSELF used to not enjoy rpf for a time… (until i turned to the light) but even then i literally did not gaf if people wrote rpf??? like i literally did not give a single fuck? and i didn’t expect the people who it was about to share my stance either so i don’t really understand this fandom in particular

but whatever! don’t be ashamed of regular shmegular fandom activities! this shit is so normal and i think here it joost was ever to communicate anti-rpf boundaries we would all completely understand that :-) were just having fun here, and no harm is intended, just creating little stories with an artist we admire!

people feed into the stereotype too much that people who participate in fandom or fanfic are just all creepy stalkers who think about whatever celebrity 24/7 and try to invade all types of privacy. i just don’t think that’s true- but the stereotype has people literally gripped by the throat that so many people are turned off from fanfic / fandom without even trying to get to see what it’s actually like!

but i’m so glad you’ve found your space here!! i love the joost tumblr fandom so much <3 they’re so great!!! such a fun little community for real :-))

[justelib]

Hi, hi, hi!! I thank @ahyesthesufferingoftvteens for this request! Also i’m really sorry but I think I kinda got off track and I also think they’re out of character 😭🙏

Okay, Skeet isn’t dead, I’ll forever be delulu, so he’s mentioned in this!

Warnings: none? I’m not sure.

(Reekai\Reeve x Kai.)

Also I wing it with punctuation, i do what feels right so correct me if I do something wrong!

Talks and donut dates

It’s been around three months since the group settled down in hollow life, it took two months for skeet to heal up from his injury, they were lucky it wasn’t fetal.

Anyways, Kai has be distancing himself from the group, it’s not like he wanted to but he couldn’t see a place he would fit. Sure he’d still hand out with them, mostly individually, like his Nature walks with Mira. his skateboarding lessons with Skeet. discovering new cheat codes with Vanessa, even though he’d never actually use them. Trying to start an lgbtq+ support club at their school With Adam. And lastly, his awkward hang outs with Reeve, nearly always at holy donuts, the park or in one of their rooms where they play games.

Kai has been avoiding them even more. He kept thinking of when He was in the castle ruins with Adam, where he found out that he was basically a replacement for reeve.

•

With Reeve, he was confronting Mira, knowing she was the most likely to keep a secret out of the best friends.

Reeve said a quick hello to Mira’s dads before heading out to the back yard, where Mira would most likely be, sitting against a tree with a book, probably dozing of as the heat tired her. And he was right, she sat with her back against the tree, her head laying back and her book sat open.

He made his way over to her, crouching down and poking her in the cheek, continuously doing so, knowing how much she hates it.

The girls eyes snapped open, glaring at the older (?) boy. “What do you need, Reeve?” She sighed, rubbing her eyes.

Reeve sat down, arms crossed. “Why’s Kai avoiding us?” He asked, not beating around the bush.

Mira sighed, closing her book. “There’s this thing that happened.”

•

An hour later, Kai stood outside of Holy Donuts, waiting for Reeve. He stuck his tongue out as he fiddled with a Rubik’s cube, looking up when a shadow fell over him.

“Hey.” Reeve nodded, a small smile on his face. Kai smiled, putting the cube in his bag. “Can we talk?” Reeve asked, pulling Kai to sit on a bench.

“Sure.” The short boy nodded.

“I know why you’ve been avoiding hanging out as a group.” Reeve stated, looking at Kai.

“What? No, I haven’t.” Kai laughed nervously, eyes darting around.

“You have.” Reeve stated, raising a brow as Kai went to refuse again.

“Alright.” Kai sighed, admitting defeat.

“You May have took my place as Mira and Adams teammate but they chose you because they knew you’d do great. You’re our friend, Kai, and an amazing person.” Reeve rambled.

Kai smiled, clearing his throat as he felt his face heat up. “Thanks…” he laughed nervously. “Now, we have a donut date to star.” He stated standing up, looking behind him at Reeve. “You coming?”

And finally, after their fourth holy donut date, the two made it official.

——

Sorry it’s so short, and it seems pretty cringey 😭🙏 I’m much better at writing fics that follow an episode\movie and this is my first time writing a oneshot =D

My cringey hollow Oc

|

[professormingisglasses]

QUESTIONS...

FFwriter X idolseonghwa (kinda)

TW: talks of anxiety and mental illnesses, starts of like smutty(?)… but trust it's not like that. (let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: This is me getting used to writing for Hwa, I hope it isn’t too cringey but this concept came to me while daydreaming haha. Also I feel like it would funny if this ever happened to an atiny IRL. Anyways enjoy, and for the most part I think it’s gn! but once again let me know and give feedback :)

XO your fave shinestar ;)

(I’m Ot8 for the most part, I CANNOT CHOOSE and I don’t want to hehe. You’ll see further down what I mean)

He pried me away from the crowd and sat me down one of the velvety couches in the hallway. “Why did you bring me here?” I ask Seonghwa hazed and dizzy from the dance floor. “I called three times and you didn’t answer, do you have any clue how worried I was,” he gritted out while roughly brushing his hands through his obsidian locks. Finally coming to my senses, “But why, after all the things I said about yo-” he cuts me off, crashing his plump lips into mine and he carefully press my back into the velvet. I groan against his lips as he grabs a fist of my hair to allow access to my neck. “Tell me if you want to stop sweetheart,” he mutters in between the nibbles and nips at my neck. I’m so heady all I can offer him is whiney hum, I never want him to shit.

“Why did I write that,” I aggressively erase my mistake while frantically peaking at the time on the top of my computer, 3:25 AM. My readers will just have to wait for the next part, I tell myself as I quickly finish up the loose ends to make a cliffhanger. “Sorry for the ending guys,” I sound out while typing my authors note, “Please be patient and ready for a part two, XO your fav shinestar ;).” I press post, setting my laptop on my haphazardly organised desk and crawl into bed. Catching a glimpse of my alarm clock; 3:36 AM. Groaning into my pillow*,* I punch my clock giving myself three hours of sleep before I have to run down to the station for work. I dream about meeting Seonghwa and riding away into the sunset with him on a horse, Picture perfect, I smile to myself.

The clock has been going off for the past ten minutes, I grab the stupid thing and ram the off button. WHY DID I DECIDE TO PICK THIS JOB OUT OF ALL THE OTHER OFFERS I GOT UGHHH. I drag myself out my bed and head to the bathroom to look half decent while taking interviews with out-touch-with-reality celebrities. My current job at a gossip magazine was to make ends meet, heavens know I despise this job and all I want to do is work with artists. My true passion was to become a music journalist, diving deeper with the artists on their albums and understanding who they are behind the mic was all I want to do but alas I have to survive. Plus this is closest I can get to meeting some of my role models, for now that is.

“Eventually we will get there, but first let’s get through today,” I slap my face in my car mirror to psyche myself up before entering the office. Even before I can properly enter the office lobby, I spot a rougue human hurtling towards me. “Girl- woahhh,” my office bestie nearly crashes into me, so I her shoulders and face towards me. “YOU HAVE TO GET TO THE MAKE-UP DEPARTMENT NOWWW,” she pushes me hastily along the office floor and I try my best not to fall flat on my face and acknowledge my coworkers. “First of all, WHY?!” I question as soon as we stop. “Second of all, why the fuck are our co-workers looking at me like I stole their paychecks ?” her face goes ghost-white. “Hello, are you ok?” What is up with this girl…

That’s when I hear him chuckle,

my heart dropped

I send an SOS and he’s-behind-me-isn’t-he? sharply to my friend, and in return receiving an encouraging yeah-hahahhahaha-but-you-got-this. I carefully turn myself to face Seonghwa, “Excuse me, are you who is supposed to interview me today? Sorry for any last minute trouble,” I feel the Earth shift beneath me and feel a shock that could send me into my grave along with my ancestors. “Yup yup,” my friend covers up for my shaken state. “Just give us a few moments to prep,” she leads me away. “HWAT !?” our make-up team promptly gets to work after not-so-gently placing my into a chair. “You got this, alright,” my friend shoves the interview questions I’ve worked on in my free-time, turning over in my head, thinking of that What if I ever got to meet him. I look over the questions, the words and letter slide around the page and my heart begins to pound with a strong presence. But they aren’t perfect, I am not ready. My thoughts are left as scattered as my questions.

I sit opposite Seonghwa, lit by the studio lights looking like the angel he is and fitted into a simple sweater and grey trousers that fit the homelness of the set. I cannot bring myself to look up at him as the make-up touch up his face and he glances towards me, my hands grip my clipboard with ferocity. “We can start whenever you are ready,” the director shouts out. “Ok, thank you,” Seonghwa replies politely. “Like he said whever you are ready,” I feel a gentle touch on my finger tips. I meet his face as he pulls back, he’s contorted with concern, but with a firmness that is comforting. I can’t help to think to myself of the times where his lives and content helped with my anxiety, and more importantly helped me to feel like I deserve to exist.

Thank you Seonghwa, let me prove to you and myself it was worth it.

With a deep breathe I signal to the staff that I am ready, “So you will be releasing a solo album soon..”

The interview had gone by somewhat smoothly, but minimal stuttering and edits which is a win for me. “Thank you for your time, anyways that’s all from me, your fav shinestar,” I finish cheekily.

I head to the roof after grabbing a muffin to munch on and clear my thoughts. I hear a door open but muffled as I stare into the baby blue scenery the sky displays. The knots that wind up during an anxiety attack slowly unfurl as I create shapes out of the fluffy clouds. “Good job by the way, you did amazing,” Seonghwa begins gently. I swiftly face him watching as the wind picks up his dark hair that the stylists, graciously, had left loose and soft. His eyes meet mine when the wind settles down after dancing around him in joy, leaving him with his signature smile. Absolutely mesmerised, I’ve forgotten to reply back, “Sorry, thank you” I shake myself awake. “Don’t be,” he tilts his head as though offended by my apology. “Also,” he jumps up, “your fics are just as good too. I love the way you portray me in each character, makes me feel like a shapeshifter,” he chuckles. I chock on my muffin,

HE’S READ MY FICS ?!

“Thank you ?” I force out settling myself. After he assures I’m ok, he continues his attack on my wellbeing. “I thought they would be more you know…” he fades off with smirk, I chock once more on my poor muffin, “I know what Atiny like…” he turns away. “HAHAHAHAhAHAHHA, yeah” I laugh obnoxiously. Sensing my obviously convincing casualness, “thank you again.” He shifts the conversation to something I don’t pick up right away because all I can think about what he was saying.

THANK THE HEAVENS THAT MY SMUT IS ON A WHOLE OTHER ACOUNT

Sending my thanks to anyone looking out for me, I tune into the conversation with Seonghwa, today was perfect and sweet like him. What more could I ask for, right?

This is what I sent to my poor best friend in the late hours of the night:

(i’m too tired to continue but basically, last minute she finds out she’s interviewing Seonghwa as he’s releasing his own album soon and after some nearly embarrassing moments, he realises that is the author of some of his most favourite ff of himself, and confesses this to her. She gets flustered but appreciates his words, he jokes about how he thought that the fics would be more raunchy since he knows what atiny like, and she brushes it off casually by laughing but thanks all the forces of the universe that her smut is on another more hidden account.)

(Sorry and love you lots !!!!)

[gomapda]

sidewalks we crossed [side A: you.]

i started writing this over a year ago and never got around to finishing it; it’s meant to be a three-part thing. so maybe if i post the first part, i’ll be inspired to finish the rest. this wasn’t written to be shared with the public, mostly just for myself (which is why some of it can be cringey), but here we are anyway. hehe. happy birthday lee jihoon! 태어나줘서 고마워!

pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader

genre: romance, fluff

summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.

rating: 13+

length: 23k (LOL)

tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure

inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi

inspo spotify playlist found here!

side A: you.

“Are you insane?”

If it were months ago, you would’ve winced at the harshness in his tone, but you’ve hardened yourself with resolve, almost saddened that this was the most communication you two have had since, well, you couldn’t recall. “I’ve been contemplating this for a while now.”

“But you didn’t talk to anyone else about it!”

No, you thought bitterly. You just didn’t tell him.

“I’ve already talked to my parents,” you spoke coolly.

He scoffed. “As if they’ve ever actually cared about you and your life.”

You felt anger flare up with a cold dousing of shame. “And what—” You spat. “You do?”

“Wha—of course I do! I’ve always looked out for you! I’m your best friend!”

Bile rose in your throat. “Best friends wouldn’t flake on every single hang out to go off and spend time with their favorite noona—!”

“Don’t you dare pin this on me.”

Your eyes shot up to his.

Cold. Piercing.

So unlike the bright crescents you were used to him having around you. He used to shine in your eyes, never too bright, but in a way that demanded your attention as you basked in his almost ethereal glow.

You were reminded that the moon has phases. And maybe that meant it was time to start anew.

Even if it meant disappearing from sight.

A heavy silence passed over the two of you.

You prepared so many answers to the questions you thought he would bombard you with.

What? You were going to a prestigious international academy several thousand miles away.

When? You were leaving in two months.

How? You got a presidential scholarship.

Why? Because you loved him so much it terrified you.

You had all of these answers.

But it didn’t matter.

Because he didn’t care enough to ask.

The tears couldn’t even form in your eyes. You knew it would be selfish and manipulative if you did. He always felt responsible when you cried.

“You can’t leave,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

A lie.

“You can’t just fucking leave.”

Leaving him, the unspoken message.

“Y/N, you— ”

“Let me go. Please.”

You heard his breath hitch.

You forced yourself to smile softly at him, wanting to ignore the visceral pain in his tensed jawline, widened eyes, and clenched fist. You knew the irreversible wound you were inflicting. Your resolution almost shattered at the prospect.

Almost.

“I’ll keep in touch.”

Another lie.

“Don’t bother.”

You supposed you deserved the door slam that followed his footsteps, not even allowed to watch his retreating form.

You closed in on yourself, finally letting the tears slip down your cheeks quietly.

He would be fine.

He always was without you.

Always will be.

Only a week later, in the comfort of your childhood bedroom nestled in the midst of Busan, did you receive the news from your neighbor a few streets down.

Jihoon decided to go through with moving to Seoul to become a trainee. I hope you can come by to congratulate him! His father and I would love to have you at the party!

Questions ran through your mind.

How long has he been thinking about this? Did he ever mention wanting to become an idol? When did he even apply to become a trainee? When is he leaving? Is he cut out for trainee life? Is he going to make his own music or be forced by his company to make inauthentic music? Is he going to remember to eat his meals? Will he be okay?

You paused for a moment.

Was this because of you?

You realized it didn’t matter.

You weren’t going to get the answers you wanted.

You didn’t deserve to.

You deleted the message.

──────────────────

Years later.

“Man, fuck this thesis work.”

“Careful, if they hear you say that, they might pull your funding out from under you.”

Hyejin glared at you, her lashes unceremoniously sticking a little too high up her eyelid. You wondered whether she knew there was no point in wearing makeup everyday when her only company was her pipettes and centrifuge. “God, sometimes I wish I was in your major.”

“You would wanna read about things like depression and emotional incompetence?”

“Why not? I see it all the time in my major. God. I was at a drinking party the other day—” You winced in advance. “And I just want you to be aware that if you were to include STEM majors in your sample, your EQ mean would drop so fast.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “Alright. Fair. To be honest, though, my research focus is mainly on the public and government’s responses to providing resources for group homes and how to make transitioning a little easier. I’m hoping to garner more attention and funding in order to do more activism. So, technically, I don’t actually measure EQ. Although, I can make guesses based on the public forums that are out there.”

“All I heard is that you’re an absolute saint.”

You laughed. “Maybe to you, unnie.”

“D’you wanna get schwasted tonight?”

“I can’t. I have book club.”

“God, you’re such a fucking nerd. Why am I friends with you again?”

“I distinctly remember you saying it was to, quote, ‘ruin me.’”

“Seven years later and I still haven’t.”

“I dunno about that. I started watching that drama you recommended and my sleep schedule—”

“Isn’t it so good?”

You laughed as she started parroting off lines from the drama and you agreed after much coercion that, yes, the second-lead was indeed a better fit.

Your phone pinged beside you and you stole a quick glance. Your breath hitched as Weverse popped up on your screen. Your pulse slowed down to a normal rate when you realized the notification was from “RM 🌟”.

Maybe you should just delete the app.

You turned your attention back to the girl who was your first college roommate back at Yale, where quick introductions were made, and not a second later, began laughing at the prospect that your RAs probably put you both together for being foreign students from South Korea. 

She was much more refined back then, having already spent an entire year on her own as a Yale undergraduate, but your burning flame managed to craft something entirely new; just as she, like a river running its course, smoothed out your rough edges over time.

She led you back home.

Back to South Korea.

Back to him.

──────────────────

“You said you don’t break promises, Y/N.”

You found yourself grimacing. “Jihoon, that’s not fair—”

“Fair? Y/N, I kicked your ass at darts and now you said you wouldn’t keep your promise.”

“I don’t want my first ever tattoo to be whatever that is!”

“You pinky promised, Y/N.”

Your bottom lip jutted out. “I can’t even tell what it is.”

He stared down at the napkin he drew his artistic rendition on and then looked back at you incredulously. “It’s a firefly. Are you blind?”

You blinked. You could see the wings? Maybe? And those are lines that represent glowing? Not some weird excretion? You held your tongue and asked a more appropriate question. “Why a firefly?”

“I dunno. Seemed fitting. We always go see them together in the summer. They remind me of you. You remind me of them. That’s all, I guess.”

“Aw,” A toothy grin spread across your face. "You think I light up the night?”

“Sure, if you want.”

You could tell that Jihoon was getting embarrassed and wanted to immediately stop talking, but you being you, refused to let it happen. You piped up with your typical know-it-all attitude, “I read somewhere that fireflies represent inspiration and guidance. And hope, I think.”

He looked you straight in the eyes.

Your heart leaped into your throat.

“I guess that’s you, firefly.”

──────────────────

And here you were, in Seoul, a knowing pang in your chest that constantly reminded you of just how close he was. How your relationship always was. Close in proximity, but always left you wanting something more. Something else.

You blinked up at her, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Y/N—”

“I know,” you blurted out.

“You just look like you’re on the brink of a panic attack every time you see a Twitter or Weverse update.”

“It’s not that bad,” you grumbled.

Hyejin’s features softened.

Your chest tightened. You hated that look.

Pity.

“Actually, unnie. I’ll join you tonight. Screw book club.”

A knowing smirk spread across her lips. “Alright, bumblebee. My EQ is high enough to realize you’re running away from your issues, but it’s low enough that I won’t do anything about it.”

“I’ll add that to my data then.”

She flicked your forehead.

―――――――――――――――――

You groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, staring down at Hyejin’s bare legs wrapping themselves around your torso.

God. How much did you even drink?

You untangled yourself from her limbs, quickly checking her skin to make sure she didn’t have a repeat of three years ago when she somehow convinced you to let her get a tattoo of the two paper clips emoji on her inner bicep.

“They represent us, bumblebee.”

“How, unnie?”

“We’re like… leaning on each other.”

“That’s... so beautiful, unnie. Thank you.”

You shook your head fondly at the memory, staring at your own addition of two paper clips on the opposite bicep, sans the alcohol in your system. So, who’s to say which one of you is worse than the other?

You tried to unlock your phone but the brightness did too much damage to your eyes to where Face ID couldn’t recognize your look of disapproval. You quickly swiped the brightness all the way down to read the time.

5:43am

That meant you only slept an hour and a half after getting home.

You peeled off the skin-tight clothing your roommate had so lovingly forced you into and grabbed a loose fitting tee and shorts. You knew you had the weekend to recuperate since you’ve completed your work ahead of your deadline.

You poured yourself a glass of water and emptied it in the span of 10 seconds. You could feel your brain recovering from its shriveled state, as if the water seeped into your skull and was being soaked up. You wondered if Wheein, your ridiculously cute neuroscience major friend down the street, would be able to explain why that is.

You hummed to yourself as you grabbed another glass of water and a reusable metal straw before making your way back to your room, where Hyejin was convinced that your bed had healing properties since she never woke up with a hangover when she slept in your space.

“It’s like you just have this homey superpower.”

“Okay, unnie. Please stop eating your hair when I’m trying to feed you toast.”

You set the glass at your bedside table and decided to go through your phone’s notifications before rousing Hyejin awake.

You scrolled through the notifications, mostly people making sure that you both got home okay, Wooyoung sending you a money charge with the caption: I may have ordered you the taxi, but you’re paying for it. Love you noona xoxo

You scrolled until you saw a lone notification from Instagram (why? you haven’t posted in two weeks?) that nearly made you drop your phone in the same way your heart did.

[04:17] wzljh__ liked your post

Your hands shook as you stared at it.

You took a screenshot.

(Just in case.)

You clicked on the notification that took you straight to the post wzljh__ liked.

It was a random post from three years ago when you studied abroad in Japan during your junior year, where you were praying in front of a temple for, according to your caption, “to be able to change the world… and also get into a PhD program.”

You clicked on the usernames that indicated who liked your post. You couldn’t find the familiar handle anywhere. Secondhand embarrassment rushed through your veins and passed as quickly as it came.

You came to three conclusions at once.

1. Lee Jihoon reactivated his Instagram.

B. He didn’t block you.

III. He stalked your profile.

──────────────────

“Y/N, I really don’t think—”

“Jihoonie, I need to get more likes on my post. Therefore, I am making you this profile. You don’t even have to go on that often. Okay? You can deactivate it once I go viral enough to have the world at my disposal.”

“That’s never going to happen—”

“Believe in me more, would you?”

“Why should I?”

“Because I believe in you.”

──────────────────

Jihoon immediately reprimanded you, telling you that you didn’t need to appease anyone as a sixteen-year-old (God, he really was too mature for his own good) but your whining had him yielding once you promised that you’d catch up on One Piece over the weekend and that you would make a bento for him.

He only ever posted once (at your request), but he did like every single one of your posts back then, although, no one would know since those were all archived (for the sake of preserving your current social life by preventing the increase in Hyejin’s arsenal of embarrassing photos of you).

Only months later did you have that falling out and his deactivation quickly followed. You believed he wouldn’t ever reactivate his personal account, especially with his woozi_universefactory account set up for Pledis, which, even then, was hardly posted on.

You clicked on his profile to see the anonymous profile picture still there. You saw his followers list and saw only four names.

That once familiar wave of jealousy that plagued you for over a decade never came when you saw her name. It dissipated a few years back after a night of confessions and mascara stained tears, hushed whispers and muffled sobs tucked away in the corner of a Busan bar in the middle of winter.

You checked his following list and saw several musical artists as well as your own handle.

Wait. Where was hers?

You navigated to her page to make sure you weren’t completely delirious and your brain slowly caught up with your eyes.

He wasn’t following her.

You typed in her username to find her profile. Immediately, her beautiful smile shone brighter on the page than the dimly lit screen could do justice.

You never hated her. She was a confidant and a beloved person in your life. Still is. You were all childhood friends (along with your cousin) with deep ties and connections, although the same could not be said for you and Jihoon currently.

But you hated how it all turned out: she didn’t reciprocate feelings towards Jihoon, but didn’t have the courage to properly reject him either.

Because, who would ever want to let him go?

You did, your mind supplied.

You bit your tongue and wondered if Jihoon found out that she was proposed to by your cousin just over a month ago, the one who she spent her childhood years pining after.

Maybe that’s why he’s not following her anymore.

──────────────────

“Y/N.”

“Shh, Jihoon. I’m concentrating.”

“On what?”

“My wish!”

You felt a tug at your earlobe and your fourteen-year-old self squeaked out, “Why!”

“What’re you wishing for?”

“I can’t tell you! That’s not how wishes work…”

He let out a gruff noise and sat across from you, his bright red shorts and white shirt were definite contrasts against the dirt surrounding your two small bodies.

“I’ll tell you one of my wishes.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. If you tell me one of yours.”

“You first.”

“Ladies first.”

“I asked and it’s only polite if you answer.”

He huffed. “You never make any sense.”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes before he cast his gaze down in a boyish way that was just so charming, you too had to look away. “I want the courage to be able to confess my feelings before it’s too late.”

You stared at the river and wondered whether it was deep enough to catch all the tears that wanted to spill themselves from out of you, the image of her coming to the forefront of your mind.

“Firefly?”

“Hm?”

“What about you?”

You forced a smile as your eyes met his.

“I want to be friends forever.”

You knew wishes would never come true if you said them out loud.

──────────────────

“Jesus Christ! How long have you been standing over me like a fucking creep?”

Your trip down memory lane was interrupted by Hyejin’s screeching. You promptly rolled your eyes. “Get up, Princess. I got some water for you.”

“I’m gonna spill it on my face—”

“I brought a straw too.”

“How about a diamond ring? Because if you popped the question, I’d say yes immediately.”

You resisted the urge to smack the smug grin on her face and pushed the water over to her. “You would want a diamond, wouldn’t you?”

“All-naturally mined. No lab made stuff. Spent enough time there myself. Don’t need a ring to remind me of it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind to tell Wheein—”

“Shut up.”

“You’re right. She probably already knows. Being childhood friends and all.”

“Shall I remind you of your unrequited childhood love?”

“‘S not the same,” you responded automatically. She raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t even seen him.”

“What? We rewatched their Melon performance literally two days ago, what the fuck you mean you haven’t seen—”

“I meant in person, unnie.”

She clicked her tongue. “And we went to the SEVENTEEN concert seven months ago. We would’ve gotten the fan sign too if you weren’t being so damn annoying about it.”

Your flustered response was enough to make Hyejin laugh at your expense. “I-I just wasn’t sure whether he would’ve even wanted to see me!”

She paused at your words.

You blinked owlishly at her. “What?”

“You used to say that you knew he didn’t want to see you. Now you’re not sure? What happened while I was passed out?”

You gulped.

She set her glass down quietly, a soft smile that seemed misplaced surrounded by her strained features.

“Bumblebee, take a seat.”

You promptly fell to your knees, feeling like explaining the situation would be akin to confessing your sins.

You only hoped she wouldn’t damn you to hell.

──────────────────

“Just slide into his DM’s.”

“Hell no.”

“Don’t talk to your unnie like that.”

You scoffed. “I’m not going to slide into his DM’s like some sad bitch who’s been yearning for over a decade.”

“...but isn’t that exactly what you are?”

You were so close to throwing your mimosa across the table. Too bad the American-inspired restaurant you were at only had half-off drinks during the weekday happy hour. You weren’t going to waste your full-priced flute of champagne and orange juice.

“Give me your phone.”

“No.”

“Bumblebee, I promise I won’t message him. Just give me your phone, I want to see his profile again.”

You took your pinky, made an ‘X’ over your heart with it, pressed the tip against your lips, and held it out for her to do the same.

“God, what are you, 5?”

“Pinky promises cannot be broken. If you break them, you break my trust.”

“You know, for someone who’s studied Psychology, you sure believe in a lot of non-evidence-based practices.”

You emphatically made your point by bringing your pinky closer to her. She sighed and hooked hers around yours. “Satisfied, bumbles?”

“Always, unnie. There’s something beautiful about how the biggest of promises are made with the littlest of fingers.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up at that.

She took your phone and turned it to where you could see her every move. She clicked Jihoon’s profile and went to his first and only post, already liked by your sixteen-year-old self.

She looked as though she were scrutinizing the caption. You expected her to try and formulate an idea of him that was separate from his stage persona.

What you didn’t expect was for her to unlike the post and quickly like it again.

“UNNIE!”

“Oh, bumblebee, I think you would have broken the sound barrier with how loud that was.”

You were too busy having a meltdown to realize the whispering voices around you, giving pointed looks of disdain. Hyejin smiled at everyone and bowed slightly in apology. She tossed your phone at you.

“You said you wouldn’t—”

“I didn’t message him, did I?”

Your mouth went dry while your tears welled up.

Hyejin recognized the consequences of her actions immediately. “Whoa, hey. Y/N, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“You don’t get to decide if it’s fine or not.”

She flinched back at your harsh tone.

You stared blankly at the phone in front of you, the once red heart, drained white, and filled again with color in the span of a microsecond.

Your watery eyes met Hyejin’s concerned gaze.

You bit your lip. “Can you pull out your phone?”

She froze. “Why...?”

“Because I’m going to eat everything off of this brunch menu and you’re paying for it, so you’re going to have to make a transfer from your savings now.”

“...Yeah, okay. Fair.”

──────────────────

“They’re both cooked dough with butter and syrup.”

You gasped loudly. “Jihoon! Blasphemous!”

He gave you a deadpanned look. “Y/N, you mean to tell me that it’s really that important whether I decide between pancakes or waffles?”

“Waffles are obviously superior! They have little pockets that cradle the syrup, with crisp edges and fluffy insides!”

“There’s literally no one here that’s arguing against you right now.”

“I need you to agree with me!”

“No, you want me to.”

You plopped back down into the booth, shoulders slumped at a lost cause.

“...would it make you happy?”

“What?”

Jihoon cleared his throat. “I asked if it would make you happy. If I agreed that waffles are superior to pancakes.”

You stammered, a blush creeping up your neck at the question. “Uh, no. It was a dumb debate. I was just trying to be annoying. I—”

“It’s okay to let yourself be happy even over the dumb things, firefly.”

You twiddled with your thumbs and bit back the goofiest grin as you heard Jihoon call the waiter over to order your shared waffle platter, asking for, ‘enough syrup to fill each little pocket’.

You never saw Jihoon eat pancakes after that day, always opting for the obviously superior choice. 

―――――――――――――――――

The joy of eating butter and carbs and sugar from that day was not enough to sustain you through the week once you realized you had a paper deadline that was sooner than you remembered.

Your eyes ran over the words again, nearly questioning your sanity when it felt like you spent the last thirty minutes trying to reorganize your paper in a way that was cohesive. You spent so much time unlearning the APA 6th edition format to relearn the APA 7th edition, and then moving back to Korea made you throw all of that out the window. Therefore, your mind was a jumbled mess of DOI numbers and misplaced periods.

This paper was due in less than a week and you still found yourself questioning whether the literature review was comprehensive enough to cover all twenty sources you were required to include. Two pages. A list of twenty sources that took up approximately three-fourths of your second page. A singular paragraph of literature review on peer-reviewed articles studying the risk factors of suicide in Korean adolescents before needing to address implications and future research and potential programs that could address these issues.

“Nothing is real,” you muttered to yourself.

You glanced around the library and noticed a scarcity of other human beings. You groaned to yourself as you realized you hadn’t moved from your seat in over eight hours and the library was due to close in ten minutes.

You wanted to stab yourself in the neck when you remembered you still had the Social Welfare 101 class’s papers to grade. You knew that they needed feedback on their writing and you also knew they saw you as a pushover, so the papers are very likely lackluster, especially since the class was filled with people who were trying to get their Humanities credit for their degree in another field.

“Become a doctor, they said. It will be worth it, they said,” your hushed-tone almost mocking.

One of the other TAs from the Educational Psychology department had offered to take some of the grading from you, knowing that you had several large projects due soon, but you quickly brushed off the offer, saying that you could handle it.

A few stray tears slid down your face as you felt overwhelmed by the entirety of the last four years. You graduated early from Yale and dove straight into a doctoral program you could have easily put off by working for a few years.

You removed your glasses and buried your face into your hands, allowing yourself five minutes of reprieve. Just five. Before you needed to pack up and get back to work.

Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?

──────────────────

[tw: suicide mention]

“Social work is a useless field, Y/N.”

You grit your teeth. “Eomeonim, I—”

“Did you think I wouldn’t see your interview in the school newsletter? Saying you want to go to Seoul National University and study social work? No daughter of mine is going to go into a field that has no chance of finding a job that makes money. You think that your Abeonim and I will be supporting you for the rest of your life? What will the neighbors say, huh?”

“Eomma—”

“No, you do not get to call me that, you ungrateful child. I did not work as hard as I did to put you through the additional tutoring and classes I have for you to just betray me like this.”

Bile rose up in your throat and you choked back the tears threatening to spill.

“Oh, and there she goes, being dramatic again. You don’t think I feel like crying too? You want to become a social worker? You want to help people? How can you do that when you’re so selfish?”

Your nails dug themselves into the meat of your palms, but not hard enough to cause pain, not when your nervous habit of biting them whittled them down to stubs.

“Get out. Come back when your head is clear.”

You moved, but not too hastily so as to signal her to your anxiety, for you were just a prey and she was the apex predator. You kept your gaze downcast and zipped up your designer brand backpack before looping your arms through the pristinely kept straps. Your family had a reputation throughout the town to keep. And you were the heir to it all.

All of the glamour.

All of the charisma.

All of the pressure.

All of the pride.

All of the distrust.

All of the insecurity.

All of the underlying self-hatred.

You shut the door behind you softly and wrapped your arms around you, letting your feet carry you to the one place you knew you could find solace.

Once you arrived, picking a fallen leaf off of your skirt, you knocked weakly at the window pane.

Jihoon glanced up from his desk and made his way to open it for you. “Hey, firefly.”

You quietly slipped through the frame.

“Bad day?”

“Do you ever, just, think about stopping?”

Jihoon blinked once. “Stopping what?”

“Life, I guess.”

He remained silent and he uncrossed his arms so you knew, at least physically, he was open to listening to you. This wasn’t the first time you brought up this subject to him.

“I could just end it all, Jihoon. I could just have it all be over. My parents wouldn’t have to worry anymore. They wouldn’t have to be so disgusted by the fact that they birthed such an ungrateful and selfish child.”

Jihoon breathed deeply through his nose. You knew how much it stirred up his insides whenever you talked about this, but he would reiterate that your safety was always more important than his comfort.

“I should just do it, right? That’ll prove something to them. That’ll show them that they’re not the perfect people everyone makes them out to be. They drove their daughter to this. Oh, but. They might just use it as an excuse to garner more attention. Woe is the perfect family in Busan, they struggle with loss, just like us. But… I could just end it all now. It could all be over, Jihoon. I have that power.”

“You do, firefly. You could end it all.”

Your head shot up so fast you nearly got whiplash. You were expecting soft!Jihoon, not whatever this was. You spluttered, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re the one who said it.”

“Are you saying I should just do it then?”

“No,” Jihoon said evenly. “I’m just saying that you do have that power. But you also have the power not to. You have the power to continue on.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“But you have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Jihoon!”

Jihoon clicked his tongue at your raised tone. “Whoa, hey. You’re the one who always says you have to jump through hoops in order to ‘earn’ love. I’m not the one who taught you that bullshit; go talk to your parents about that.”

“But they’re right!”

“No, they’re not.”

“Shut up! You don’t know me!”

“Y/N, I have spent more time with you than those sorry excuses of parental figures ever have!”

“Those are my parents!”

“Yeah, and they’re assholes!”

“You’re the one who doesn’t know! They’re the ones who see me, who know me best. They raised me. They know how disappointing I am. They know how useless I am. They know! They’re the ones who know just how unworthy I am!”

“God! Why do you care so much?! Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?!”

You sucked in a sharp breath. Your bottom lip trembled as your voice came out, horribly fragile, a complete contrast to your sharp tone from just moments ago. “I… Because it’s me, Jihoon. I’m either too much for people or I’m never enough. So, I have to do everything perfectly to prove that I’m worthy. I have to be better than anyone else. Because I have to make up for the fact that it’s me.”

You were openly sobbing.

“But… you’re not better than anyone else, firefly.”

You tried to muffle your tears enough to hear Jihoon’s voice over your crying. Your eyes met his and you expected to see pity, but instead, his facial expression remained as neutral, a steadfast look in his eyes amidst all of your wavering.

“Firefly, you suck at Super Smash Bros. You’ve never won a game against me. Not even one. In like, ten whole years. Also, you’re really bad at timing when ramyeon noodles are done. You always overcook them. You cry when you see a fat seagull waddling down the shoreline. You can’t eat spicy food to save your life. You use too many emojis when you type. You can’t even jog 100m without wanting to pass out. You get so angry that you blow up at others and shame them for making you angry, but you hate it when people are mad at you. You refuse to share your food when it’s still warm, but force me to finish it when you’re full. You don’t trust others enough to do their part of the work so you never let anyone else help you. You have a nervous habit of saying stupid random facts when a pretty girl talks to you. You once poured milk before the cereal. You’re full of flaws.”

Your lips were pressed in a thin line, but the tears had ceased approximately halfway through his listing of your traits.

“You are not the best. By any means. Mediocre, even.”

“I’m kind of hurt.”

Jihoon snorted. “You don’t know everything, firefly. You’re not always going to be the smartest in the room. You’re not the best that ever existed. You never will be. But you’re never too much. And you’re always enough. And although your parents and nearly every adult in this town could think otherwise, you will meet people, people like noona, like hyung, like me, who will still care about you even when you’re being a shitty little brat like you are now. People who will still care about you even when you’re not number one.” 

“…You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.”

──────────────────

“Do you ever think about generational trauma?”

Hyejin gave you a sideways glance. “Do we need to pull out the therapy chair and the rosé for this?”

You swatted the offer away. “I’m serious.”

“What d’you mean then, bumblebee?”

“I just think about my parents and the pressure that was probably put on them from their parents and the parents before. But with each generation, no one decided to try and break the cycle. They just kept taking their hurt and putting it onto the next. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s not just my family. It’s prevalent… everywhere. Did you know that South Korea has one of the highest rates of suicide in all of the OECD countries, second only to Lithuania? Common risk factors among adolescents tend to be academic pressure and family issues. So. I know it’s not just me. The numbers don’t lie.”

“Is this related to the paper you were working on earlier?”

You pondered for a moment. “I think researching adolescents and suicidality might’ve triggered some old memories, yeah.”

“Are you…?”

“Okay,” you finished her question. “The thoughts only come when I’m feeling overwhelmed with stuff. And it being our last semester, it’s just… a lot is being demanded of us. Classes, projects, thesis defense. I’m feeling, I dunno, a little helpless.”

“Hmm, I’m remembering some wise words from my undergraduate roommate at Yale~” Hyejin said, in a sing-song voice. “She said that the best way to stop feeling helpless is…?”

You glared.

“The best way to stop feeling helpless iiiiiis…?”

“...to ask for help.”

“Wow, right on the money.”

You decidedly messaged your fellow TA to ask them to help alleviate some of your workload to which they happily agreed.

Which you only gained the courage to ask for after a straight-winning streak in several online matches of Super Smash Ultimate.

You weren’t mediocre.

You just realized he wasn’t either.

──────────────────

Just a few days later, on a rare weekend where you managed to pull away from schoolwork, you found yourself in the attic of the group home you worked on-and-off at for the past four years, sorting through boxes of tattered toys, gathering the ones necessary to put through the washer. You laid down on the floor, the rickety boards beneath you groaning at your weight. You passively wondered whether a cartoon moment would happen and the group home inhabitants would find a you-shaped hole in their ceiling.

You reached into your own backpack and pulled out your own toy of sorts. You threw it up in the air only to let gravity do the work to bring it back into your hold. You had to be careful to not give yourself a black eye like you did a few years back.

“Whoa, you played baseball?”

You glanced at the tattered ball in your hand, the stitching almost undone, the yarn beginning to peek through. The color was no longer a pristine white, but that only proved its history of handling. “Choi Sannie, what about me says ‘athlete’?”

“Hey,” your younger coworker put his arms up in defense, fully climbing into the attic space now. “I know all of the things we have here at the home, and that is definitely not one of them. So that means that’s yours. Or you stole it—” He gasped loudly in delight. “You stole—!”

“No, dumbass.”

He deflated. He knelt down on the floor next to you, inspecting the baseball without taking it in his hands, careful to not overstep your boundaries. You taught him all about consent; Choi San was a wild child, but he knew respect. “May I see?”

You tossed it casually over to him.

“Is this handwriting? I can barely read it.”

“Even if it was brand new, I promise that handwriting would be illegible to the average person anyways.”

“You’re not average though.”

“Of course not.”

“So, what does it say?”

“Gwangan-dong, Busan, August 2.”

“Was it a gift?”

“Yeah.”

“From who?”

“An old friend.”

“Why keep it?”

You hummed softly.

“For the days that feel like I’ve lost.”

──────────────────

Lee Jihoon was a boy who demanded attention. And he always had it. But not because he would go parade and peacock around for the sake of trying to earn it. He naturally caught it, with collected looks and smooth words. Everyone in your town knew him: his ability to work hard and even more, his ability to achieve. He never needed to do anything to garner more attention because all of it was already on him. Even at the perfect attention-craving age of thirteen.

Lee Jihoon would never show off.

You had been to every single one of Jihoon’s baseball games, cheering silently when he made a great call, throwing mental expletives when things were going awry. You knew his mannerisms, his tells. Hell, you even knew the code for when the coach beckoned his players to steal a base.

So, you knew when Jihoon was showing off.

You wanted to gag at the sight of him puffing out his chest while he wore his catcher gear. You often believed him to be beyond this world but the reality quickly slapped you back as you wondered why exactly he was being so obnoxious.

Your unnie turned to you, “It’s almost over, yes?”

You wanted to laugh at the fact it seemed like she aged an additional year for every inning. “Yes, unnie.”

“I don’t understand how there’s no timer.”

“It’s done by the number of outs.”

She nodded, but you knew she didn’t actually take it in, since you repeated that fact three times over the course of the past two hours.

“Our Jihoonie’s doing well, right?”

“Yep, as per usual.”

“I really don’t understand baseball, lovebug.”

You pat her shoulder. “It’s alright. I don’t mind telling you. Although, you might want to ask oppa more about it. He knows more than I do. He messaged me and said he’ll be here in about five minutes so he can take us all out for dinner after.”

She froze. You quirked an eyebrow.

You noticed the redness creeping up her neck.

“Oh my God. Unnie! Do you like my cous—?”

Before she could say anything to defend herself, you felt the bleachers around you shift in tandem and you nearly toppled over until she caught you.

Your eyes found Jihoon, who was holding the ball that sealed their fate: they won. He won.

You saw him and his teammates gather together, his mask coming off to reveal his black hair sticking to his forehead and his ever-so-brilliant smile.

Oh no. You were so smitten.

After several moments of trying to push through the crowd, you finally reach a place where you spot Jihoon animatedly speaking to your unnie, who managed to get ahead of you by several paces.

You immediately froze.

Even from this far away, you could see his eyes clearly. Of course, you could. You were so practiced in searching for them, in times of joy, in mourning, in dancing, in sorrow. In those dark irises, swirled something so raw, your breathing became ragged. You saw the way he looked at her. You knew the look in his eyes.

Because you’d caught glimpses of it in yours in passing mirrors whenever you were with him.

How long did it take you to realize?

Suddenly, you wanted to be anywhere but there.

You rushed backwards, much easier to run away than it was to charge forth. You ran and ran and ran until you reached the back of the bleachers where you crumpled down onto your knees, effectively getting grass stains on your poor clothes.

“Mommy! Mommy! There’s someone crying!”

“Baby, no—let’s go over here.”

“She’s an ugly crier, like you!”

You cursed the fact that children were basically sober drunks and said whatever was on their mind. The fateful “u” word that repeated itself obsessively in your mind.

You thought of your unnie.

Your beautiful, elegant, sweet, soft unnie.

Of course Jihoon would prefer her.

He was pulled into her gravity with no room for resistance. His crescent smiles faced her, never to show his dark side, for she was the earth he orbited: captivating and delicate.

Why would he even care to ever look your way?

You were a given; never a prize to be sought. You were unrefined and blundering in your demeanor. You were on the crux of puberty, an awkward and horrendous time that consisted of your skin deteriorating, hormones running rampant, and just. So. Many. Emotions.

Ugly.

“Whoa, whoa, ladybug, is that you?”

You glanced up, not even bothering to wipe away the dribbling mess that was on your face. Your cousin stared in horror at your tears.

“God, you look horrible.”

A broken sob ripped through your chest and your cousin quickly realized he made a mistake. He scooped you up into his arms and held you as you cried, cried, cried.

If jealousy was the ugliest trait, you must have been downright hideous.

Later, you had your face tucked into your cousin’s chest as he apologized to Jihoon and your unnie, who both reached for you, but your cousin, in his typical knight-in-shining armor fashion, brushed them aside and pulled you closer. He convinced them that you received some off-putting remarks from your parents and didn’t want to talk about it (a regular occurrence), so he would take you back to his place to cheer you up with some Disney movies and freshly squeezed lemonade.

Your unnie offered condolences and a swift pat on your head before she called her dad to come pick her up, all of you waiting until she drove off.

Jihoon spent the time waiting listing off a myriad of your needs (“You have to make sure you have the double Kleenex, okay? The other ones leave weird fuzz on her cheeks. And don’t let her wash the dishes when she’s sad because she doesn’t realize how hot the water actually is and ends up rubbing her skin raw. And make sure you use simple syrup for the lemonade and not just sugar, she hates the crystals.”) while he packed his gear away, preparing to walk back on his own, his home not too far away from the baseball field.

You felt your cousin squirm at the prospect of Jihoon having to carry all of his gear after playing a two-hour game and having no food in his stomach. “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”

He looked back at him, glanced at you, probably noticing the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly.

“Here, firefly.”

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up to realize what it was doing. You saw a small object in the air, falling within your arms reach.

So, you caught it.

Your eyes trailed up to meet his, momentarily forgetting he was the sole cause of your meltdown.

His jaw clenched so hard, you cowered slightly.

“Why are you giving me this?”

You cringed at the sound of your voice, gruff and raspy.

“It’s your win today.”

You blinked rapidly. “Huh?”

Jihoon sighed and you wondered if he just considered you a petulant child.

“Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”

Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands.

You sniffled, the corner of your mouth upturned.

Before you could say anything, Jihoon immediately turned on his heel and walked away.

You looked up and caught your cousin staring at Jihoon’s retreating form with a bemused look. 

“Alright, ladybug, let’s get you home. Your parents are probably preparing dinner right now.”

“You promised Disney and lemonade.”

Your cousin sighed dramatically. “I guess I did,” he ruffled your hair to which you let out a prolonged, annoyed groan. “Which movie?”

You pondered for a moment. “Hercules?”

You thought of Jihoon and his reputation throughout your town: attention-grabbing, diligent, admirable, heroic.

But most of all, kind.

“You got good taste, ladybug.”

──────────────────

“Does today feel like a lost day?”

You resisted the urge to mess with the singular faded green streak running through San’s hair, a test subject from when Hyejin wanted you to dye her hair, but you didn’t want to try it out on yourself nor buy a synthetic wig. A rebellious eighteen-year-old was the best option at the time. “No. It doesn’t.”

“Then why do you have this?” He inquired again.

“Because I can do what I want, San. It’s my win.”

He pulled a face of indignation at your rare (at least to him) display of childishness. Your phone pinged on top of your thigh, alerting you to its presence.

[12:42] wzljh__ liked your post

You bit back a grin, knowing San would question you endlessly if he caught it. So you tucked it away, for a later time, where you could be alone and smile as widely as you wanted to. He was getting more and more bold. Hyejin’s action, you knew, was what spurred him on. You wanted to laugh in disbelief.

Lee Jihoon was a man who demanded attention.

And he always had it.

──────────────────

“No, no. Noona, you promised.”

“I did no such thing.”

Wooyoung scoffed at your words. He pulled out his phone and his nimble thumbs quickly found what he was looking for, signified by a soft ‘ah-hah!’. “You said you would help me try and secure BTS tickets. You’re the only other person that I know that has the ARMY Membership.”

You glanced at his screen and saw your drunk state and you resisted the urge to keel over at the sight. You heard your slurred words promising the very thing Wooyoung was asking of you now. “I wasn’t sober enough to realize what I was saying. Also, what kind of person films their drunk friend and coerces them into promising to get BTS tickets?”

“I never said I was a good person, noona.”

“Ask San or Seonghwa.”

“They don’t have the ARMY Membership,” Wooyoung repeated, emphasizing the last two words. “I’m out here trying to secure the front section. It’s close enough to the stage where I can see Jimin-hyung’s sweat without the screen.”

You grimaced. “Weird ass fanboy.”

“You cannot deny that he is a beautiful man,” Wooyoung said pointedly. “Although, I assume your type is like 15cm shorter and a muscle bunny.”

“He’s only 11cm shorter, sir.”

“Okay, okay. Keep defending your boyfriend.”

You spluttered, instinctively responding with what you said for most of your middle and high school days to those around you. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Wooyoung gave you a ‘duh’ look. “No shit. You’ve never even met him because you refuse to get the fan signing tickets because you’re a weak ass coward.”

Well. He was definitely right about one of those things. You often forget that you’ve kept your history with him private from most except Hyejin.

(And Wheein.)

(Because Hyejin told her.)

(Luckily, Wheein is a lot more considerate than her boisterous and loose-lipped counterpart.)

“Wooyoungie, you’re really not making me want to help you here, you know.”

“Noona, please.”

He looked at you with his wide brown eyes and jutted out his bottom lip. The thick black frames on the bridge of his nose gave off the impression of innocence, something you would never again associate with the young man in front of you.

His eyes lit up once he visibly saw your determination crumble.

You bit your lip. “You’re paying for this pizza. And we get pineapples on it.”

“I love you~ You are a goddess I am unworthy of even perceiving~ I worship the the ground you walk on, O sweet and kind deity~”

Your mouth twitched. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

Wooyoung looked at you, a serious look in his eye, took your hand and squeezed it. He gave you a smile that almost melted away your disdain. “Thank you, noona.”

“Men like you give women trust issues.”

“Yeah, probably.”

──────────────────

“I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young. I wanted to be your tomorrow, so I lived today. Ever since the first day I saw you until now, in my heart, it’s only you. These typical words, I’m only saying them now. But I hope these typical words will reach you. Thank you, thank you. That’s all I can say. Even all the waiting, all the longing. And all of our memories. Thank you, thank you.”

You half-hoped they would perform this song, half-hoped they wouldn’t. It rendered your heart weak, almost wringing it through with the lyrics and melody, the implication. There was a deep yearning within you that wished these lyrics could have been for you, once upon a time.

You hid yourself with a black face mask and wore a baseball cap. Hyejin told you that you were making yourself look even more conspicuous by wearing such garb, but you couldn’t risk being noticed. You wanted to see him, but in a way that didn’t require vulnerability. Plus, your tears were easier to hide.

Hyejin held your hand, her fingers intertwined with yours, the two of you uncharacteristically calm and still unlike the other CARATs around you, all of whom were cheering and swinging their lightsticks in tandem.

She gave your hand a tight squeeze.

You thought back to what was seemingly a mundane day, going on one of your grocery shopping trips at a Trader Joe’s while still living in New Haven, Connecticut.

The days leading up to your shopping trip, you were a mess of a human being, weighed down by the amount of work you still had left to complete, hardly able to be present in your own life, instead simply watching it go by. Hyejin took over your chores for the week, bought you sweets, stayed up with you even if she finished her own work, made sure to send kind text messages randomly throughout the day, and was all around the best supporter you could have asked for.

You kept apologizing to her for not being able to reciprocate, the only words that your mouth had the energy to form were, “I’m sorry.” And she would, each time, just pat your head with a soft chuckle and say, “You don’t have to keep saying that, you know. You don’t have to say that you’re sorry.”

But you weren’t sure of what you could say instead, so you said nothing at all.

Your grocery trip was made to be more of an adventurous outing that matched the energy that you were able to procure, as cooping yourself indoors only intensified your feelings of stress. However, you were on the mend from the disastrous week, as you finished up your work the day prior to your little trip to the grocery store.

(You couldn’t help but think your ability to even leave your apartment was because of Hyejin.)

After gathering all of the ingredients to cook carbonara (with extra pancetta!) and loading them up in your car, Hyejin offered to return the shopping cart to its designated location.

You saw her from afar and suddenly something overwhelmed you.

You knew what to say instead of: ‘I’m sorry.’

“Bumblebee?”

“Thank you.”

Hyejin gave you a raised eyebrow. “Yeah? Of course.”

“No, I mean...”

You paused. What did you mean?

Did you even have a right to express yourself? That’s all you seemed to do during the week and it was almost embarrassing trying to say something now. Like, this wasn’t the right time and place. The butter was melting in the car.

“Actually, never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young.

She gave a pointed look and said, “Uh. Alright.”

But something tugged at you. A gentle reminder from a gentle person with a seemingly rough personality.

These typical words, I’m only saying them now. But I hope these typical words will reach you.

If he could do it, so could you.

Before she could get into the passenger seat, you called out again, “Actually!”

She glanced your way, still visibly confused.

You took a deep breath. “Thank you for returning the cart. But, ah, more than that. Thank you for coming to the store with me. Thank you for spending time with me. Thank you for consoling me. Thank you for living with me. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for staying by my side. Thank you for loving me.”

You couldn’t hold back your tears, so you didn’t. Your beloved friend did not fare much better.

She was in a state of what seemed like hysteria, laughing with tears streaming down her face. “What the heck, dude? What’s the matter with you? God, I love you so much.”

She took you into her arms and you both cried in the middle of a Trader Joe’s parking lot.

Your heart was filled with gratitude as the thirteen boys on stage interlocked their fingers in a pinky promise to love their fans. You mirrored the action as you took Hyejin’s pinky and interlocked yours with hers. She glanced at you and you gave a smile from behind your mask, trusting she knows what you mean. Trusting that she hears the promise you are making to her, to yourself.

Promising to always be thankful.

Promising to always love.

But if she could not hear the wordless promise echoing in your chest, you knew you would repeat it aloud to her for as long as she needed. To whoever needed it.

Because although those words may be typical, they were still worth saying.

That is a lesson an old friend taught you.

An old friend whose smile now shone as bright as the stage lights that lingered on his form.

──────────────────

Three weeks later, you were up to your neck in deadlines. You were demanded at every possible place you frequented. In the research labs, in the recruitment office, in your collective TAs room, in the group home you volunteered for.

Hypothetically, there should have been no room in your mind for Lee Jihoon.

Too bad you saw him everywhere.

Not just explicitly, like the way his idol group overtook the internet with selfies here and tweets there and ridiculous fan edit videos everywhere.

But rather, in the crevices of Seoul, in the freshly cooked rice found at your favorite family restaurant, ready to serve piping hot meals with heaping portions of a mother’s love, in the off-key melodies sung unapologetically by a circle of children in the middle of the neighborhood park, not caring who’s there to witness, performing for any and all, in the rhythm of the city thrumming beneath your soles and at your fingertips, ready to sweep you off your feet if you gave it the chance.

You saw him everywhere.

That included your notification center.

[15:32] wzljh__ commented on your post—

Your vision blurred.

Was this what cardiac arrest felt like?

A comment? A comment? You were plenty satisfied with the likes on your post, but a comment meant direct interaction, not mindless scrolling and double tapping.

The ringing in your ears was prevalent and you knew for the sake of your body and soul, you needed to shut it all away.

You pushed aside the thoughts, compartmentalized like they taught you during your clinical therapy program, and shoved your phone far into the depths of your unorganized bag.

You breathed in.

You breathed out.

You had work to do.

──────────────────

“Hey, so, it’s noona’s birthday on Sunday—” 

“I know, Jihoon, you haven’t shut up about it for the past two weeks.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. But I’ve spent so long trying to find a gift for her and I still can’t find anything. Can’t you, just like, come with me to the market for the day? I’ve never spent so much time and effort trying to find a damn gift for a birthday before. I’ll buy us dinner and we can stop by that dessert stand with the black sesame soft serve.”

“I told you. I have college prep exams I have to worry about. You want to woo her? You can. Easily. Lee Jihoon, anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.”

He breathed out a long sigh. “...thanks, firefly.”

You gave a stiff nod before walking away, the singular cardstock invitation (since you only made one for him because he teased you endlessly for your homemade invitations in the fifth-grade and you committed yourself to spite him every year from then on) you scrawled a date on in two week’s time weighing heavily in your bag. You bit your bottom lip to try and prevent the tears from slipping.

Guess your birthday wasn’t worth putting time and effort in.

At least, that’s what you thought until you found a small package in your first-year high school locker on that fateful day, in two week’s time.

Inside a poorly wrapped box, you found a card and a keychain of three tiny medals: simply drawn hands interlocking at their pinkies, the infinity symbol, and a crescent moon.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you opened the card envelope slowly, afraid your shaking hands would accidentally tear apart the paper. The card was homemade and purposefully horrendous (he claims; although, knowing his crafting skills, you weren’t so sure) with his haphazard, yet endearing scrawl.

You read the words once. Twice. Three times.

Moved them away from your eyes so the tears wouldn’t fall and smudge them.

“I saw these charms two months ago and immediately thought of you.

You said anyone would be lucky to be loved by me.

Guess you’re a pretty lucky person.

Happy birthday, firefly.

- Jihoonie

P.S. I have a sun on mine, if you end up wanting to switch.”

And so you skipped the first ten minutes of your last class to fold in on yourself in one of the second-floor girls’ bathroom stalls. You muffled your cries against your sleeve because it’s just so utterly him that you couldn’t even think straight.

When he finds you after school, eyes puffed and disheveled, you half-expected him to comfort you, because it was your birthday and, to most people, that warranted special treatment.

Instead he laughed loudly at your tattered self, pinched your reddened nose with a grip you could say bordered on assault, and said, “Come on, let’s go get some cake and ice cream. I’ll pay.”

You glared at him. “You hate cake and ice cream.”

He merely grinned at you. “Not today, I won’t. You really are lucky to have me, aren’t you?”

Even with the way he teased you relentlessly for all seven blocks to the place you frequented when your pockets were lined with allowance, the dessert shop with the fresh cream green tea cake topped with fruit you knew Jihoon was gonna take when you weren’t looking, even with his eyes filled with mischief and cheeks filled with stolen strawberries, you couldn’t help but agree.

──────────────────

“He’s been pretty bold lately.”

You cocked your head to the side as you pulled your lunchbox out onto the cafeteria table. You spread the items out in an orderly fashion and Hyejin nearly sneered at the display, but you ignored her. “Hrm? What d’you mean?”

“I mean, he’s been liking more and more of your posts. He also commented today. Isn’t that bold? Considering you haven’t spoken in years? What happens if he’s just, I dunno, playing with you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Is it dumb to say that it’s just a gut instinct that everything is okay?”

“Again, what is the point of your higher education? Gut instincts aren’t exactly evidence-based.”

You unwrapped your sandwich and your eye twitched at the sauce that dribbled down. Damn. You could’ve sworn you had the right ratio this time. 

You took a bite, your tongue slipping out to catch the excess sauce. You chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the bread before you spoke.

“I dunno how to explain it, unnie. I know all of my observations have been just… through likely scripted scenes and concerts. And I know it’s dumb to think that he’s still the same kid from way back when, but even seeing him interacting with his members… It just seems like he’s happy. Not just the superficial kinda happy, but the everlasting contentment and joy kinda happy. So. I don’t think he’s going to ruin that by trying to dredge up stuff that could ruin it. Or plot revenge. I just... don’t sense any ill intentions. And I never have, even when all that shit happened.”

“Hm… I honestly don’t know the guy, but it does just sound like he made one choice in an unfortunate circumstance. Big decision in the midst of big emotions,” Hyejin murmured.

“So did I,” you said pointedly.

She smirked at that. “Yeah, but you ended up with me, so I’m okay with your choice. But, also maybe, I just trust your judgment a little too much. But, if you consider him as wonderful as you say he is, then. I believe you. Plus, I feel like his lyrics and videos that I’ve seen are proof that he’s not a complete piece of shit.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you for thinking he’s not the scum of the earth.”

“Yes. Just a rung above that. If I ever meet him, I’ll definitely punch him. For your honor.”

“Hah. Thanks, unnie. I’m sure that your stick arms will do a lot of damage.”

“Of course.”

The two of you laughed.

Hyejin hummed. “Do you ever blame him?”

“For what?”

“Leaving before you.”

You raised a brow as you set your sandwich down to bring your attention to your apple slices, peeled in a way to make them look like bunny rabbits. After dunking it into some peanut butter, you decapitated its head with your teeth. “Blame is a funny thing.”

“What d’you mean by that?”

“I mean, think about it, unnie,” you began. “Do I blame him for leaving when I was the one who decided to leave first?”

Hyejin clicked her tongue. “But he left without even saying ‘goodbye’ or even warning you.”

“Mm, yeah. But... I mean, do I blame him for leaving before me when he could blame me for deciding to leave first? Or do I keep going and blame him for making me fall in love with him or could he turn that around and blame me for having feelings in the first place? Do I go further and blame him for defending me from bullies in first grade or does he blame me by trying to become friends by giving him a seashell? Do I blame him for being born or does he blame me for the same thing? Blame is an endless cycle and trying to pin the entire thing on one person or one event is hard. At least, in this instance, you know? There wasn’t a clear cut perpetrator and victim here.”

Hyejin picked at her nails. “You really have a different kinda brain, don’t you, bumblebee?”

You chuckled. “It’s gotten me this far.”

A silence fell over the two of you as you stared at your bunny apple slices, eventually fed up at the odd number of them and choosing to sacrifice one to your stomach for the sake of your peace of mind. 

After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I used to be real angry with him.”

“Yeah, you told me you used to be a fiery little thing. Plus, I heard you blow up at that student athlete who was dishing out homophobic slurs near the Student Center. When you’re angry, whew. I wouldn’t ever wanna be caught in the crossfire.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, he would often be. I don’t think you can grow up with and know a person for, like, sixteen years and not ever be angry with them. Especially when that person is a prepubescent boy who knows all the little things that grinds your gears.”

“God forbid having feelings for men.”

“Women aren’t that much better,” you reminded Hyejin. She paused for a moment before agreeing to your sentiment. You knew too many of the silly arguments her and Wheein have had over the past two decades.

“Honestly, though. I think he’s one of the only people I ever felt safe enough to even be angry around. So, he usually got the brunt of it all. Honestly, he should’ve left me faster. I was a mess to deal with at the time.”

Hyejin pulled a face at your self-pity. You merely offered a small smile and she rolled her eyes. “So, you were still angry at him when we were at Yale?”

You swallowed another apple bunny. “Absolutely. Remember New York?”

“Which time?”

You snorted. “Specifically the one where we went during the Fourth of July. Where I had hook-ups after hook-ups and had to get a pregnancy test and an STD screening. Where we went bar-hopping literally every night because I wanted to drown in my sorrows. The one that you got on that stranger’s shoulders to shoot off an illegal firecracker.”

“The trip where you got so drunk, you screamed at a man that turned out to be a statue.”

“Hey, in my defense, he looked like an asshole.”

“I’m sure many people would agree with you that Christopher Columbus is indeed an asshole.”

You both laughed.

Your voice lowered to barely above a whisper, Hyejin physically needing to lean in to catch your words.

“I… was angry that he made promises he couldn’t keep. I was angry that he decided to walk out of my life without asking to even try. I was angry that he didn’t even care to ask why I was wanting to leave. That he didn’t care enough to want to know what I was doing. I was angry that he dropped me so fast. I was angry that he moved to Seoul as a last ‘screw you’ because he didn’t want to try and talk it out. I was angry that he was angry. But above all, I was angry at myself that it took me so long to let myself even feel the anger because I blamed myself for everything.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“At the time, I had a sixteen-year-old’s anger and heartbreak and a twenty-one-year-old’s body and ID. So, that anger manifested itself into drunken nights of hedonistic debauchery and cursing out loud for the first time ever, right at a statue of a colonizing murderer.”

You thought she would laugh at your phrasing, but instead, she merely took you in. You wanted to shrink back at her scrutinizing gaze.

“Does it still bother you?”

“...No, not really,” you admitted. “I just woke up one day and realized that I missed him so much more than I was angry at him. At me. Eventually the anger just kind of… faded. I mean, he was hurt when I left. And if he felt like I was leaving him, then it makes sense he would try to do the same in some kind of twisted adolescent retribution. I’m not saying that either of us deserved that kind of treatment, but I mean, we were sixteen and dumb. As a former sixteen-year-old, any kind of change felt like the world ending.”

“As a former sixteen-year-old, I would have to agree,” Hyejin nodded. “Do you ever regret it?”

You shoved another sliced apple into the peanut butter. This time, not picking it up. You stared down at it as you tried to formulate your thoughts. You replied softly after some time, “No.”

“Nothing?”

Your mind trailed back to the time you spent chasing your dream of studying abroad, establishing your place in the world without depending every little decision on him, running after dream after dream and fulfilling them through your own power and accord.

And you thought, as beautiful as the experiences were, you wished you could share the stories with him. He was always your best audience member, applauding your every word and exaggerated action. Sometimes laughing and jeering and heckling, but always, always, always attentive.

You chased your dreams. You always have.

All except one.

But it was okay.

Because he gave you so much more in those fleeting years than the world could ever have supplied in millions.

“No, nothing.”

────────────────── “Do you still love him?”

Hyejin watched you over the years. You grew and healed, evolved from a bumbling adolescent mess, bright-eyed and terrified, into a full-fledged woman who learned that all most had to offer was a quick fix and prolonged heartbreak. Someone who decided to be kind because she knew first-hand that the world was not. A woman who wanted to be a love letter from the universe. Someone so strong, yet so fragile to the workings of the world because you always allowed your heart to be vulnerable.

She never knew anyone who loved for the sake of loving.

Someone whose living was loving.

Not until she met you.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but it slowly curved at the ends. “I think I always will.”

Hyejin’s heart felt constricted in her chest; she wanted to scream at you to let go and to move on. Tell you that he wasn’t worth any of the heartbreak and pain and self-doubt.

But she knew. She knew looking into your eyes, that you loved him with a love that transcended the flimsy, insecurity-driven kind portrayed in romantic comedies or Korean television dramas.

Because although she saw your eyes rimmed with unbrittled heartbreak, she also saw the gratitude that overflowed from your irises.

Part of her still wanted to berate and chastise you and tell you to just move on.

But she remembered being on the receiving end of that. How her friends reminded her that to be in an unrequited love was never worth it and that there were plenty of fish in the sea and that she needed to move on because it was just sad.

She remembered how empty that left her, wanting to fill the cracks in her heart with her beloved, because that was always what Wheein would be to her, just as Jihoon would be to you. Hyejin had the privilege to call Wheein at any time, to hear her voice lull her fears and anxieties into soft understandings and warmth, warmth, warmth.

Everyone told her to walk away from all of that.

Not you.

You were the first one to sit with her, hold her hand, smile and remind her what she already knew, a resounding truth in the depths of her soul.

And so, she sat down with you on the edge of your bed, grabbed your hand, smiled, and reminded you of one of your favorite quotes: “What a privilege it is to love.”

A tear slipped past as you beamed. “And to be loved in return.”

“Even for a moment.”

“Even if it is not how we want.”

“Because, still, it is love.”

“And it is the one thing we will never be without.”

──────────────────

“Two more months,” Wheein muttered before quickly downing her soju shot, not waiting for anyone else at the table. “Two months. And we’re done. No more needing to prepare for a thesis defense. No more needing to sit next to a centrifuge for ten hours at a time. No more needing to read bullshit and selfish opinions on public forums. No more needing to sit next to that weird dude who always smells like he has an open wound that’s infected—”

“Wheein, sweetie, that’s too graphic,” Yongsun responded, bringing her choice of a virgin cocktail up to her lips.

Wheein merely took a swig of the beer next to her.

Byul-yi shot her a glare. “That’s mine.”

“She needs it more, unnie, trust me,” you replied on her behalf. Byul-yi gave you a warning glance that wordlessly said you defended Wheein too much, especially as someone who was younger. “To be honest, I think Hyejin-unnie and I need to catch up to where Wheein-unnie is.”

“No, you need to pace yourself carefully especially with soju because you end up drinking too fast and way past your limit before you even realize.”

“Yongsun-unnie, I know we dated when I was a young and unassuming first-year doctoral student who didn’t understand how to handle her alcohol, but that was the past. Let’s move on, shall we?”

“Hyejin told me you threw up just a few weeks ago.”

“Goddamnit, Hyejin-ssi,” you hissed in mock anger.

She snorted, seeing through your ruse. “Wouldn’t have mattered if she heard from me. Byul-unnie was the one who was holding your hair at the bar, so.”

“Is this how I’m repaid by setting you two up together? The constant risk of potentially being exposed by one or the other? The betrayal. When I introduced the two of you, mere weeks after Yongsun and I broke up, and you two were blatantly flirting in front of me–”

“We were not flirting,” they chimed in unison.

The rest of the table rolled their eyes.

Wheein huffed and whined into her arms, voice muffled against the table. “Y/N, you gotta find me someone.”

“You’ll see them if you just open your eyes. I’m sure of it. They’re right there. Just look in front of you, unnie.”

Hyejin pinched your thigh but you were used to her physical torture.

Wheein groaned loudly, sitting up, but still covering her eyes with her hands. Byul-yi nodded in apology to Hyejin who merely bit her lip.

Yongsun dissipated the tension for Hyejin.

By directing it towards you.

“Y/N, I saw that you posted on Instagram yesterday. The same post from the group home you volunteer for. You were asking for the support of the community, right? And just today, I saw there were a ton of comments on their public page.”

A lump lodged itself into your throat and you stared at her, lips parting but not making any sound.

She cocked her head to the side.

Hyejin rubbed your thigh soothingly with her hand. “Bumblebee didn’t realize that they were going to get that many comments on that post. Plus, uh, I think it was shared by that one singer? Bamsu?”

“Bumzu,” you corrected weakly. Jihoon’s partner-in-crime, or rather, music production.

“Yeah, uh. Him. I guess someone who knows the group home page somehow managed to get it circulated to where he saw it, and… yeah.”

Several other research fellows messaged you privately saying how exciting it was to get the attention your project needed. Your group organizer was saying that tens of calls were coming in at a time, asking how to best provide funding or resources.

You resisted the urge to spiral into oblivion because you knew only one (1) person who would be able to do such a thing.

Bumzu had transitioned from performer to writer/producer and usually had a hand in charity work, at least, over the past couple of years, according to a quick run through his Instagram feed. He wasn’t under the scrutinizing eye of Dispatch, at least, not as much as a certain thirteen-member idol group. His interest in this program didn’t warrant sasaeng fans who would try to track down the people who made the post.

It was the perfect cover up.

It’s not as though Bumzu did anything over the top. He simply reposted the group home’s post on his story, only available for 24 hours, but even then, that was enough time to garner attention.

The group home leader called and cried to you saying that God had really blessed you all.

You wondered whether you should tell her that you didn’t think God was 164cm with moonlit eyes that haunted you in your sleep.

──────────────────

[15:32] wzljh__ commented on your post: “this is some really cool stuff. do u mind if i share this?”

[19:22] You replied to wzljh__’s comment: “👍🏼 go ahead”

──────────────────

“Noona~”

“Choi Sannie~”

“I don’t appreciate the mockery~”

“Then get your ass to work~”

San snickered before undoing your haphazardly done ponytail and threading his fingers through your badly tangled hair. “You need to calm down. You have a meeting soon and you look like an absolute mess. So, I’ll at least braid your hair for you, mmkay, noona?”

“San, if you want to reduce my stress, I would appreciate it if you could go and run through the program schedule and let me know what doesn’t work—”

He tugged on your hair and you yelped.

“Noona.”

You leaned back in your chair to see him staring down at you. You grimaced at the fact that, even from this angle, his jawline was inhumanely sharp.

“No one is expecting you to run everything. We have group organizers for a reason. You’re just here to volunteer.”

“But I want to help. I’m responsible for getting the word out there. And I want to be able to make a difference for those in group homes—”

“You did. You helped me. Now I’m in a local college. Working as a barista. Volunteering in the same home I met you in.” Before you could cut him off, San continued, “You can take a break, noona. I’ve never seen you this stressed out before. And I’ve seen you literally down an entire six-pack of banana milk after eating two chocolate croissants.”

“They’re called pain au chocolat. They have to be in the shape of crescents to be called croissants.”

“No one gives a flying shit, noona.”

You gaped at him. “San! Who taught you to speak like that?”

“You did.”

You grumbled to yourself before reaching back for your Apple Pencil. San snuck his hand over your shoulder to pluck it out of your hand. “Hey!”

“Jinwoo wants you to sing him to sleep.”

Your heart ached as you stared at the screen in front of you. There was too much work to do and you couldn’t afford—

“Are you really cost-benefiting the effects of whether you sing a child to sleep right now?”

“...”

“God, what a professional. Where’s the noona that would sneak kids out to go catch dragonflies and then eat bungeo-ppang while washing it down with banana milk?”

“Are all of your memories of me associated with banana milk?”

“I remember what I remember, noona.”

“Why don’t you sing to Jinwoo?”

“Because he’s asking for that song that you sing; the one that only you know.”

You froze.

For some reason, Jinwoo, at the ripe age of eight months, established quite clearly what he liked and disliked, with the latter list nearly double the length of the first.

Every song you sang to him had its expiration date before he would take a metaphorical red Sharpie and cross it off of his likes list.

All except one.

You cursed yourself for singing it so long ago, caught up in exhaustion that you just wanted to quell the baby’s cries as soon as possible.

And so you procured a song that was gathering dust from being long ignored in the recesses of your mind.

You locked your iPad, gathered your stuff together to put away in your bag, slung it over your shoulder and made it up the stairway to where you knew Jinwoo would be.

You found him nestled in several blankets on the floor in the room meant for three-to-six year olds, convinced that the ground would be able to keep him steady unlike the volatile day-to-day he was thrown into since birth. Most of the other kids were out at the local school, but Jinwoo had a lower constitution than them, so would often stay at home. The home did its best to ensure that his schedule was tied with the other kids, including the midday nap.

His chocolate eyes looked up at you expectantly, his arms outstretched for you to envelope him in your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile down at him and scooped him up in one fell swoop. He giggled as you spun the two of you around the room.

You swaddled him as best you could, a three-year-old much larger than the eight-month-old you once knew him to be.

His hand pressed itself against your cheek and you nuzzled your face against its warmth.

“Ready to sleep, Jinwoo?”

“Will you sing to me? The forever song?”

“Yes. Of course.”

And so you did.

You sang to him a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.

──────────────────

May 26th.

You thought that date would forever ingrain itself as the day that he forcibly came back into your life by taking you and the rest of the world by storm alongside his group, singing of an awkward and clumsy adoration paired with a point choreography that was, well, pointing.

(At the time, you wondered whether she heard the song, the one you were sure it was written about. You never asked.)

But here you were, six years after his debut into the world as an idol, dressed in your regalia of indigo and black, full bell sleeves, velvet paneling, and a weird puffy hat to top it all off, debuting into the world as a Social Welfare PhD grad.

You were a whole ass doctor.

“WE’RE FUCKING DONE, BITCHES.”

“God, Wheein, can you calm down? We gave you that key for emergencies.”

“It’s an emergency that I don’t have a bottle of soju in my hand right now.”

Byul-yi patted Yongsun in hopes of appeasing her anger. “Remember when you finished your MBA and how that felt?”

Yongsun blinked once before pushing herself off of the couch. “Alright, so how many bottles am I pulling out?”

“Wait! Wait! Wait! We need a picture!” Hyejin chastised her childhood friend for taking off after Yongsun. “Bumblebee, come here. Wheein, you too!”

“Whose phone?” Byul-yi asked.

You all chorused your phone, handing her the latest model of iPhone. She wiggled her brows at you. “Looking for a sugar baby, mama?”

“Bold of you to assume that I’m not paying installments on that sleek piece of overpriced metal and glass.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a broke grad. Alright, alright. Okay, ladies. Now let’s get in formation. Wheein, brush your hair out of your face, you look like a mad scientist. Y/N, stop furrowing your brows like you’re reading those mean comments online. Hyejin, stand up straighter, you’re slouching—probably from bending over all the time—”

“Unnie!”

“Over your centrifuge, okay? Chill. Alright. 1, 2… 2 and a half.”

“How old are you? 50?”

“Alright, for that, you just got a burst. Y/N, I hope you find the ugliest gem in that to post.”

You and Wheein laugh at Hyejin who is now putting on her face of Disapproval and you imagine that Byul-yi is just now taking an endless amount of candids. You reach for the phone, a toothy grin still spread across your lips.

“Oop! Damn, this camera is nice. Don’t get too drunk otherwise you might accidentally drop it into my purse.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed at your phone. You swiped through the camera roll, finding too many of your face, especially when reaching for the camera, thanks to Byul-yi’s trigger happy thumb. However, you looked genuinely happy, so you couldn’t be too mad.

Maybe that’s because you were done slaving over papers and deadlines, you mused.

You showed Wheein and Hyejin the photos as well, refusing to delete the ones where Hyejin is pulling her signature face. You smiled down at your screen before pulling up Instagram to post a photo of all three of you (looking like baddies and not like the unhinged beings you usually are) on your story.

You figured you would post the professional photos you had done by Myungsoo at a later date.

You typed up a caption:

alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD

You locked your phone and tucked it away, ready to simply celebrate with your beloved group of girls.

That is, until two hours passed, which included a passed out Wheein cuddling into Hyejin on the couch and a drunk Yongsun and tipsy Byul-yi retiring to their own room and you sneaking into their second bedroom. You finally saw several responses to your story, mostly clapping and fire reactions and messages of well-wishes and pride. There was one handle that immediately caught your attention and you couldn’t help but think you were predictable in where your eyes always go.

[22:06] wzljh__ replied to your story: i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan

[22:08] wzljh__ replied to your story: sorry that was dumb of me to assume

[22:08] wzljh__ replied to your story: of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album

[22:15] wzljh__: sorry that was stupid

[22:15] wzljh__: ignore me

[22:15] wzljh__: congrats y/n

You checked the time stamps to see that the first three messages came in rapid succession. While the last three came less than ten minutes later, without the “replied to your story,” meaning he actively searched for your conversation in his DMs to send a message.

You wondered whether it was okay to respond. He initiated it, so you figured this was consensual on his end. But… would you be okay?

Lee Jihoon was the one you believed would always know how to crack the code to tear down the walls of your heart. The one for whom your heart would invite in, with offerings of warm tea and resounding laughter and requests to make himself at home in your messy, but safe, space. You were always so utterly bare in front of him that it was almost nauseating with how much trust you put into his hands.

Did he deserve that same trust after what transpired between the two of you?

Regret lives in the past. Anxiety lives in the future. But you lived in the present.

Present (tipsy) you said, “cute human messaged must respond”

You opened up the conversation. 

[23:16] You: alexa, play congratulations by day6.

[23:16] You: happy anniversary to svt!! 🥳 

[23:16] You: hope you’re having fun with the members!!

Immediately, Seen popped up on your screen.

Your breathing hitched as you saw those damned three dots. You really should ask your old Biology tutor why your chest felt as tight as it did. Or maybe Wheein would know the science as to why it felt like your brain was firing a million and one things but was also completely shut down.

[23:16] wzljh__: oh

[23:16] wzljh__: oh wow

[23:17] wzljh__: i didnt think u would know that

[23:17] wzljh__: thanks you

[23:17] wzljh__: thank uou*

[23:17] wzljh__: you* wow im genius

You giggled softly to yourself.

──────────────────

“You look like an oversized peach, but, like, not a nice one. One that fell off the kitchen counter and now has bruising forming.”

“You’re fucking rude.”

You tutted. “Jihoon, language.”

“One of these days you’re gonna drop the fuck word too.”

“Mmm. Nope.”

He grabbed at your cheek and pinched it softly. You made a dramatic display of faked annoyance. “You will. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be the first one to hear it, alright? I’m gonna hear the fuck word from the kid that everyone else is foolish enough to believe is entirely wholesome.”

“Um? But I am? So very wholesome?”

He barked out a laugh. “Sure. You got most people convinced, but I know you. You’re too fiery for your own good.”

“Oh, so you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Of course,” he replied in English, his words laced with his thick Korean accent. “I’m genius.”

You giggled before you corrected him. “‘I’m a genius.’”

He grinned. “We both can be.”

──────────────────

[23:18] You: the other caratdeul are posting it all over twitter so it’s trending, of course i would know that 😤 i’m in touch with the insiders nowadays

[23:19] wzljh__: the other caratdeul

[23:19] wzljh__: ??

You cursed silently. Did alcohol loosen your thumbs too? Is that possible? Would you remember these questions to ask Wheein later?

[23:19] You: uh, i’m also a carat? duh? have you /seen/ jeonghan-oppa’s visuals? 😍

[23:20] wzljh__: unfortunately every day

You laughed out loud at that.

You saw the three dots come. And then disappear.

You couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that hit, but you figured that he had his own celebration to do.

That is, until a video was sent from his end five minutes later.

You swore Lee Jihoon was going to be the cause of your death one of these days. 

You clicked on the video.

“Annyeong, Y/N-ah!!”

You balked at Yoon Jeonghan’s face grinning at the camera. What the frick.

“Jihoon told me that you graduated with your PhD today! Congratulations! Hanniehae!!”

Your heart burst at the sight.

God, Jeonghan was so cute. You so desperately wanted to be his friend when you first discovered SEVENTEEN, almost more jealous of Jihoon for being surrounded by twelve other fantastic human beings rather than the other way around.

[23:28] You: omg i’m gonna cry

[23:28] You: !!!! how!!!! is he!!!! so CUTE!!!!!

[23:28] You: this is the best grad gift ever

[23:29] You: my years of indentured servitude to SNU was worth it to just bear witness to that 🥰 i can die happily now; thank you yoon jeonghan for existing

[23:30] wzljh__: um excuse me who else

[23:30] You: and to lee jihoon for the provision and distribution of content: i shall remember your services

[23:30] wzljh__: i now owe ur “jeonghan-oppa” a new lego set just for that

[23:31] You: he’s cute when he goes on vlive and builds it so just think of it as an additional gift to me, ok

[23:31] wzljh__: no.

[23:31] You: 🙄 rude

[23:31] wzljh__: u owe me too now especially since u said i gave the best grad gift ever

[23:31] You: i’m!!!!!

[23:32] You: ok so technically no one else has given me a gift yet so you were just better than nothing 🤧

[23:32] wzljh__: yes thats always my goal. to be better than nothing

[23:33] You: 😂😂😂

[23:33] You: wait!!

[23:33] You: you can’t distract me!!

[23:33] You: gifts are exchanged for the sake of selflessness and glad tidings!!

[23:34] wzljh__: thats not what u said when u guilted me into buying u the cardcaptor sakura cards because u got me plushies of the straw hat crew

[23:34] You: i didn’t GET you them! i MADE them!! my craftsmanship and time are worth much more than the ccs cards!! equivalent exchange!!

[23:34] wzljh__: god u are such a weeb

[23:34] You: if you recognize my reference you’re not so innocent yourself

[23:34] wzljh__: …

[23:34] wzljh__: damn

[23:35] wzljh__: anyway u think ur craftsmanship is worth more than the $50 i dropped on those cards?

[23:35] wzljh__: u wanna tell that to chopper whose head was too big for his body and now looks as though hes in inexplicable pain??

You stared at the screen. What?

[23:35] You: ???? pics or it didn’t happen

[23:36] wzljh__: at the dorm

[23:36] You: !!!!! you still have them with you???

[23:36] wzljh__: yea? ofc lol

[23:37] wzljh__: they may be dopey but mostly dope

[23:37] You: bihhhhh

──────────────────

“Always remember this, Y/N.”

You swallowed the handful of popcorn you so elegantly stuffed in your mouth just seconds prior. “You always do this, Jihoon. You always wait until my mouth is full—”

“Good people watch anime.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay?”

“I’m serious. Don’t trust anyone who says that they don’t like anime, alright?”

“What, so, that’s a requirement for whoever I’m going to be involved with in the future?”

“Yes. How can someone be a bad person when they have Monkey D. Luffy to look up to?”

“Fair, but—”

“And if the person can commit to nearly a thousand manga chapters and over eight-hundred episodes, they can commit to you.”

For some reason, his logic overtook your own. You nodded in slow agreement. “I mean. You’re not wrong.”

“Of course not.”

“So, you’re saying I’d have to find my Luffy?”

He eyed you. “I think you’re more of a Nico Robin than a Nami, honestly.”

Your stomach flipped but you brushed aside the implications of his words.

And even years later, your first-date questions always included, ‘If you were a Straw Hat member, who do you think you would be?’

You had yet to find another Zoro.

──────────────────

[23:38] wzljh__: anyway u still owe me

[23:38] You: BIHHHHHHH

[23:39] wzljh__: ill let u know by the end of the week

[23:39] You: 🥺 do i not get a choice

[23:41] wzljh__: u always have a choice 

[23:42] You: hrmmmmmm then… i shall hear you out… maybe… perhaps… mayhaps

[23:42] wzljh__: always been a poet, since that second grade writing contest, havent u

[23:43] You: me? a poet? how about i quote one of the greatest poets of our generation

[23:43] You: ‘let’s have fun’

[23:43] wzljh__: …?

[23:44] You: ‘everyone stand up and clap’

[23:44] wzljh__: ok

[23:44] You: 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

[23:45] You: wait

[23:45] You: that’s one too many

[23:45] wzljh__: fake fan

[23:46] You: 😢 i come here and get bullied by a member of my favorite k-pop group

[23:46] wzljh__: favorite

[23:46] wzljh__: ?*

[23:46] You: asjdkksncsls yoinks

[23:47] You: i wish i could unsend messages

[23:47] You: or go back 3 seconds in time

[23:48] You: but what if i jump forward 10 seconds..

[23:49] wzljh__: HA

[23:49] wzljh__: alright u are at least a cubic if u watch gose

[23:50] You: 💖💙 it’s what pulled me thru my thesis

[23:50] wzljh__: lololol

[23:50] wzljh__: alright alright

[23:50] wzljh__: i gotta go soon

[23:50] wzljh__: but

[23:51] wzljh__: congratulations y/n

[23:51] wzljh__: seriously

[23:51] wzljh__: u do some amazing things

[23:52] You: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[23:52] You: thanks jihoon so do u

[23:52] You: oh wait i just remembered

[23:55] wzljh__: ?

[23:56] You: an amazing thing u did

[23:56] You: thanks for sharing the info abt the group home project!!

[23:58] You: i don’t think i can ever explain how grateful i am!! it went so smoothly because of the response from the surrounding communities

[00:00] You: and you didn’t need to share the information

[00:00] You: but you did

[00:00] You: and i just

[00:00] You: idk i’m really grateful

[00:02] You: anyway!!

[00:02] You: sorry

[00:03] You: oh wait i’m supposed to say thank you

[00:03] You: thank you thank you thank you

[00:03] You: thank you lee jihoon

[00:05] wzljh__: is it bad if i just send a 👍🏼

[00:05] You: you’re gonna ok, boomer me? and my authentic and genuine heartfelt words??

[00:06] wzljh__: 👍🏼

[00:07] You: ...i’m unsubscribing

[00:07] wzljh__: lolool

[00:07] You: 😭😭😭

[00:08] wzljh__: still a crybaby

[00:08] You: more like crylady

[00:09] wzljh__: i suggest u never say that ever again

[00:10] You: yep noted i regretted it as soon as i hit send

[00:10] wzljh__: looooollll

[00:11] wzljh__: ill let u know what i expect for my equivalent exchange

[00:12] wzljh__: i need to consult with my lawyers on what exactly i can get away with

[00:12] You: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[00:12] wzljh__: i can hear that message and i dont get how

[00:13] You: i’m gonna d word 😭

[00:13] wzljh__: not until i get my gift lol anyway ill message u by the end of the week

[00:14] You: ok 😞 fine

[00:14] You: you’ll message me?

[00:14] You: 🤙🏼?

[00:15] wzljh__: lolollllllll thats not a pinky promise emoji

[00:16] You: don’t care!!!

[00:16] wzljh__: lollll still so stubborn

[00:16] wzljh__: okay fine

[00:17] wzljh__: 🤙🏼

[00:18] wzljh__: goodnight y/n sleep well

And so you did.

You dreamt of crescent moons, steady heartbeats, gentle melodies, and open arms.

And falling, falling, falling.

──────────────────

Five weeks.

Four interviews.

Three community project ideas.

Two job offers.

One major minor meltdown.

Zero Instagram messages.

Not that it particularly mattered when your entire future was splayed out right in front of you.

“So… you either stay in Seoul…” Hyejin began.

“...or I move to New York,” you finished for her.

“...okay, but like, what is even over there?”

“Unnie.”

“I know it’s your favorite city in the world—”

“Strongly so.”

“And they have Broadway—”

“An absolute treat.”

“And you’d be lecturing at Columbia—”

“The first Social Work university in America and most prestigious school in said field.”

“But I’m not there!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Hyejin’s pout. “Unnie, you and Wheein were already talking about living together next year because you’re both heading over to Jeju!”

“Which is the same time zone as Seoul! AKA, I can call you at any point I want—”

“We both know that’s not true even if we were in the same time zone.”

“...okay, touché. But! Are you really going to move halfway across the world? Again?”

“I enjoyed my time at Yale!”

“Bumblebee, you left Korea because you were running away from something. Someone. Are you sure you’re not leaving Korea for the same reason?”

“...Unnie, I love New York.”

──────────────────

“Doesn’t this city just reek of anxiety?”

You ignored her and instead took in the hustle and bustle of the streets around you. The neon signs of overpriced bags just begging to be haggled, the misogynistic advertisements of computer-generated women overhead, unassuming hot dog stands and bodegas whose businesses depended entirely on locals, live music found on nearly every street corner, committed to entertain in order to survive.

This city was the physical manifestation of everything right and wrong with humanity.

Bodies close. Minds worlds away.

The perfect place for someone like you.

“So full of life.”

Hyejin looked at you. Her face softened once she caught a glimpse of the glimmer of light she always saw in passing.

She hoped it would return for the long-term.

“Yeah, bumblebee. Full of life.”

She promised herself that she would take you every year from then on.

Your first trip was during the nipping frost of winter, filled with artificial twinkling and overconsumption of goods; the holiday cheer dampened by the cold reality that heartbreak and loneliness were inevitable byproducts of the season.

Your second trip was in the welcoming arms of autumn, decidedly going upstate for one day; the leaves faded into reds and golds, apples ready to be picked to be baked into a sweet pie, accompanied by the warmth of spiced cider and slow healing found in vulnerability wrapped in double crochet blankets and friendship.

Your third trip was during the sweltering heat of the summer, bad decisions and dangerous impulsivity. Late night drives of yells and whoops echoed into the Lincoln Tunnel with the wind rushing through your hair. The invincibility of youth and rekindling of the burning fire you thought was long gone.

Your fourth trip was in the blossoming of springtime, maturation of seeds sown and bountiful harvests. Gentle breezes and flowy dresses. Picnic baskets and overpriced coffees. The unspoken connection of humans collectively sitting in Central Park enjoying the gift of now, thankful to be alive.

As the seasons changed, so did you.

──────────────────

“But,” Hyejin started, exasperation already apparent in her tone. “Come on, bumblebee.”

Annoyance flared up. “What?”

“You’re thinking about running away again.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hyejin rolled her eyes at you and you could feel the simmering anger building in the pit of your stomach. You tried to quell it down with breathing, but you still felt the flames lick at your insides. “Jihoon just started messaging you again and you’re off here just thinking about fleeing the country. Again.”

“This has nothing to do with him.”

“I think it has everything to do with him.”

“I’m not some lovesick puppy who can’t make her own decisions, unnie. I applied to Columbia because I thought that it would be an amazing opportunity to be an assistant professor. Do you know how many PhD grads get to score a job like that right out of graduation?”

“Oh, yes, we get it, Y/N. You’re always cream of the crop. Top of your class. Always pursuing something bigger and better than what we mere humans can provide.”

Your jaw dropped. “What the hell?”

“You were offered a full-ride to NYU for your PhD, but you declined it because you didn’t want to, and I’m quoting you here, ‘dirty your healing place.’”

“Things change, unnie.”

“No, you’re just fucking scared.”

Rage filled you. “You don’t know me. You think you have me all figured out, but you’re just projecting onto me because you, for one, are constantly running away from your own feelings for Wheein! You wanna know who’s scared? It’s not me. Because I make my choices and I don’t regret them. Can’t say the same for yourself, huh?”

You grabbed your belongings and stomped out of your shared living space, slamming the door behind you, the beating in your chest ringing in your ears with a resounding thump, thump, thump.

Part of you wondered if the reason you snapped was because she was right.

Maybe partially.

But you also knew that you hated being carved and molded into what people perceived you as.

And she perceived you as something you were not.

Your happiness wasn’t reliant on him. You were a wholly and complete person without him. You knew that. You found that Truth long ago. You proved that through the years of work you put in; years that Hyejin witnessed herself.

So, it felt like a backhanded slap when it felt like she saw the girl you were when she first met you. As though you didn’t put in the effort to take the course of your life into your hands and crafted it to be the way that it is now.

You were a whole person.

She never said you weren’t.

You tried to pull out your car keys from your bag but struggled to find them in the midst of your frustration. You growled before giving up, stomping your way down the now dimly lit streets, the sky never quite achieving a pitch black, with the light pollution of the city. Stars were nowhere in sight, but the moon hung low near the horizon.

You found yourself walking (nearly stomping) for almost an hour as different voices argued in your mind. You were several blocks away from your home now.

She overreacted.

She’s just worried about you.

She didn’t have to be.

She probably doesn’t want you to experience the heartache that she’s seen you go through.

She was treating you like a child.

Because she loves you. And love makes you do crazy things sometimes. Like yelling at your best friend. Or flying halfway across the world.

You groaned inwardly.

God! Why did you have to have a conscience?

You said some pretty shitty things to someone who may have not portrayed her care in the best way, but tried to anyway. She gathered the courage to try and challenge you and you blew her off by rubbing salt into her own wound.

She wasn’t right.

But neither were you.

You felt the wash of shame come over you as you twiddled with your bag’s strap, trying to muster up the determination you needed to trudge back down and apologize.

“Oh, thank God, bumblebee.”

You pivoted your entire body at your unnie’s voice, wanting to shrink back at noticing the redness in her skin and puffiness under her eyes, even in the faint light of the street lamps. She looked so frazzled, her flip-flops nearly hanging off her feet from what looked like running around trying to find you. “Unnie, I—”

“I know you said you don’t like apologies, so I’ll say thank you instead. Thank you for your honesty, even if it was really mean. Thank you for listening to me, at least the beginning. Thank you for getting angry because I know that’s really fucking hard for you to do so and I feel weirdly honored but also still spooked by it. Thank you for not driving, especially this late and on a weekend when you’re upset—”

Your heart sank at the memory of Hyejin recounting her story of losing her friend to a drunk driver, something Hyejin felt immensely (and irrationally) responsible for, having been the person to last send her off.

You had forgotten about that.

Here you were, trying to figure out how you were going to apologize, and here she was, worrying about whether you were going to come back to her at all. You bit your lip before you piped up, “I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

“Yeah, well, I was right. I learned that I never want to be caught in the crossfire. Your anger is terrifying. You’re not a bumblebee; you’re more like an agitated hornet. With a gun.”

“Unnie—”

“I’m not done. I don’t know how to process my emotions like you do so I didn’t really think before I came running after you. I’m still hurt and mad that you said all of that shit—”

“I was wrong,” you interrupted. She went quiet at that. “I don’t know everything. I hardly know anything. But what I do know is that I was wrong. I said some things that I knew were going to hurt you because that’s what I wanted to do. I was wrong. But... so were you, unnie.”

She remained silent, so you continued.

“I’m not that same, young, dumb teen that you met at Yale. I’m not the brat who was still trying to figure out how to be her own person without being an off-brand version of all of her friends from Busan. I’m… I’m not weak, unnie.”

“I… I never said you were.”

You wondered when you started crying. “Yeah, well. It felt like you didn’t believe in me. That you didn’t trust me. You are the only person in my life who saw all of the changes I went through and you still said I was running away. So, it just made me think that all of my growth was… I don’t know. Fake.”

“What? No. Oh, bumblebee. Never.”

“I’m… I’m my own person. Who can make her own decisions. I don’t need anyone else to complete me. So, there’s no one and nothing that I’m trying to run away from. I’m just trying to figure out where I want to go. Is that so bad?”

“...No. Not at all,” Hyejin answered softly. She slowly stepped towards you and tentatively wrapped her arms around your torso. You leaned in and breathed in her scent, muffling your sniffling against her shoulder. “You were right that I confused the woman you are now with the girl you were then. But I’ve never ever seen you as weak. Or incomplete. Not then, not now.”

“Then why?” You sobbed. “Why do you think my life revolves around him? Anyone else can think I’m some love-struck dumbass, but why you?”

“Oh, bumblebee, I fucked up when I said I thought it had everything to do with him. I definitely… projected. Like you said. As much as I hate to admit it. But... I also want you to know that I don’t see you as some sad girl who’s been pining after some crusty dude. I see a woman who has gone around the world, fallen in love with it and its people, and still knows exactly with whom she feels safest. And I don’t want you to deny yourself of that.”

“I’m not denying myself anything. He doesn’t love me, unnie. So, I have to be the one to do it. Because he won’t. And that’s okay. I’ve learned to love myself and isn’t that good enough?”

Hyejin squeezed you tighter in her embrace. “Call me crazy, but… I think there’s something there. Call it a spark. Call it a string of fate. Call it a grown love. But… ah. I’m not good with words like you, bumblebee. You are good enough. Just as you are. Wonderful, even. I… I’m not saying he’s a missing piece of you or anything like that. But. Agh. Like. He is bread. And you are butter. You’re both complete by nature and can exist without each other, but you’re just… better together,” she tried to hold her tongue, but you knew her resolve was weak, so you braced yourself. “Butter together.”

“...unnie, you really are bad with words.”

You yelped when she grabbed at you to pinch your thigh.

She promptly turned the two of you around back to your apartment, her arm looped around yours. You easily walked past your building, though, caught up in smoothing out the harsh lines said during your earlier conversation. She admitted her fears regarding pursuing her own unrequited love and you confessed you often chased things that were of grandeur rather than that of simplicity. And you both touched on exactly the roots of your insecurities: hers in her fear of being unwanted and yours in the idea that you were incomplete without him.

The two of you found yourselves swinging at a neighborhood park that probably closed several hours ago, but it was a safe space for the two of you, to air out the tension, to have the beginnings of healing and mending, although most of it being left to time and future efforts of rebuilding trust.

Together.

──────────────────

[19:21] wzljh__: this might be a dumb question but did ur kkt account change

[19:21] wzljh__: i tried messaging u and it said delivered but

[19:21] wzljh__: nvm u dont have to reply sorry

[19:42] You: omg

[19:42] You: jihoon i made a new account bc my username was @narutofanfreak123 and i couldn’t bear to tell people that was my username but i didn’t know how to change it LOLLL

[19:43] You: so i made a new account once i came back to korea!!

[20:01] wzljh__: i

[20:01] wzljh__: i shouldve asked

[20:02] wzljh__: i thought u werent replying because u were busy with job searching since u were posting about it on ur story

[20:02] wzljh__: or maybe u didnt want to talk to me 😣

You rubbed your eyes in disbelief.

Jihoon used an emoji?

[20:05] You: oh no lol i already got offers

[20:05] You: still deciding between two of them

[20:17] wzljh__: before u tell me whats ur username on kkt?

[20:18] You: oh yeah!

[20:18] You: oh

[20:18] You: uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[20:18] wzljh__: ???

[20:19] You: haha

[20:19] You: ok so

[20:19] You: uh

[20:19] wzljh__: are u ok???

[20:20] You: yeah! haha

[20:20] You: welp

[20:20] You: it’s @madamefirefly

[20:20] You: heh

Lee Jihoon (@wzljh__) added you on KakaoTalk! You accepted Lee Jihoon’s request!

[20:23] Lee Jihoon: nice username

[20:23] You: thanks it was inspired by someone who used to bully me as their pastime

[20:25] Lee Jihoon: sounds like u were a masochist

[20:25] You: 🙄🙄🙄

[20:25] You: nice username

[20:25] You: sounds like it was randomly generated off of a sketchy site on naver that just so happened to have your initials

[20:26] Lee Jihoon: that ‘sketchy site’ somehow managed to predict the initials of my english stage name

[20:27] You: that was easily!!!! within your control to manipulate, woozi-ssi!! it should technically be uji!!

[20:27] Lee Jihoon: no that site knew my future and spoke to me

[20:28] Lee Jihoon: speaking of futures

[20:28] Lee Jihoon: whats coming up on the y/n agenda

[20:29] You: oop sorry hyejin-unnie is back home and i promised we would get dinner together so i might not respond until later

[20:30] You: but i’m deciding between staying here in seoul to continue the work i’ve been doing and being an assistant professor at columbia university in new york city!!

[20:30] You: although i’m def leaning more towards one than the other

[20:30] You: ack she’s yelling at me to hurry sorry i’ll ttyl!!

[Read at 20:30]

──────────────────

 Your phone rang.

You saw the FaceTime ID and never slid the bar faster than you did in that moment.

“Unnie! I—oh God, is that a wedding dress—oh my, oh no, the tears—”

One of the most beautiful laughters of your childhood rang out as she flipped the camera back to her face, stained from salty tears already passed. “Oh, lovebug—” Your lips split into a wide grin at the childhood nickname. “I think this is the one. I needed to show you. What do you think?”

“Hold on, I’m crying so hard that I can’t see—”

337.1km away, your future family member (although, one could argue she always had been) burst into a renewal of joyful tears, so exuberantly over-the-moon to share this moment with you, and you sharing the same exact sentiment to be able to bask in the joy of a promised love.

“Unnie,” you said emphatically. “You are… so beautiful. So stunning. So radiant. So dazzling. My goodness me. You are… just so splendent.”

She hiccuped. “Lovebug, no one uses that word anymore.”

“I had to go back to words of old to explain myself because language oft fails me when I see you.”

“Stop. God, you and Jihoon both with your ability to speak. How do words even come out of you two like that?”

You made a noise.

You don’t think she caught it.

“Y/N, you are sunshine personified, so to hear you say that makes me feel like I’m being blessed by Amaterasu herself.”

“I wouldn’t want to go lock myself in a cave.”

“Then don’t, lovebug,” she said dismissively. “Plus, you can’t. The bachelor and bachelorette party is gonna be in Seoul and you promised you would be there.”

“Yes, yes. To help me get blackmail on everyone else in case they try to turn on you later. You’re using me, you know?”

“You’re a useful person.”

You clicked your tongue. “So I’ve been told.”

A comfortable silence passed between the two of you before she broke it, a slight hesitation in her tone.

“So… turns out that Jihoon’s gonna be at oppa’s bachelor party. Oppa asked him to perform and he said no because of his schedule, but he said he would be at the wedding. And the bachelor party.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that. He was willingly going to the party and the wedding of the man who stole the love of his life away from him? “Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Huh. Weird.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s coming to the wedding. I know you don’t want to see him, but—”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Uh, you literally went across the world to avoid him—”

“Why does everyone think that? No, don’t worry about me, unnie. It’s fine.”

You didn’t look directly at the screen but you could feel her stare boring into the side of your face through it. She thought you were lying. But you weren’t. It wasn’t about you.

“Lovebug—”

“He texted me.”

Your words stunned her into silence.

That is, until she went rapid-fire.

“Oh my God. What? How? When? Did you reply? Was it an emergency? Did you have a conversation? Was it a casual conversation? How long? Oh, thank goodness—”

“Whoa, whoa, chill out, unnie. Wait. Why do you look happier now than you did when you were showing me your wedding dress? Wait. Aren’t you at a boutique right now? Don’t you have your mom waiting or something—?”

“Shush, I’m asking the questions around here.”

And so, you answer them. You told your future family, your confidant, your safe space. You told her of the accidental like, the off-chance comment, the purposeful messages, and everything caught in between.

337.1km away and you felt right at home.

──────────────────

“Y/N?”

You knew that voice anywhere.

Of course she was here, of course she was. This was one of your collective dreams, two girls fantasizing about inebriated situations and uninhibited fun by means of burning liquids in a local Busan bar. A dream of spending a night here, sharing a story for every shot.

You learned a year prior that you would really only be able to tell two stories before wanting to quit.

“Oh… hey, unnie.”

“You’re… you’re back.”

You forced out a laugh. “Yeah, I, uh. Graduated.”

“From Yale.”

“Uh… yeah. From Yale.”

“Can… I sit here?”

You glanced up at her before gesturing to the seat in front of you, the corner booth really far too large for your person. You could almost see the thoughts that raced in her mind before she gave a small nod and sunk down into the cushion.

“So, how have you—”

“I heard you—”

“Oh, no, you go—”

“Oh, sorry, I just—”

You both locked eyes.

And promptly burst into a fit of laughter.

“God, what is this?” You managed to get out, holding your stomach.

She was no better, in her signature hiccuping stage. “I just—!”

“We have the communication skills of five-year-olds.”

She wiped away a stray tear. “We’ve become a drama.”

“I call being the second-male lead.”

“Wait, that’s not fair. We all know that the second-male lead is objectively better.”

“That’s exactly why, unnie,” you winked.

She scoffed. “Alright, I’ll give it to you this time, lovebug.”

You saw her freeze, as if she didn’t expect herself to call you by that nickname. She looked like a deer caught in headlights and you quickly gave her a wave of your hand. “You spent more years calling me that than you did my actual name. Let’s not break the trend now, yeah?”

She visibly relaxed and you couldn’t help but smile fondly.

A lull passed over you, but you felt much more comfortable with this silence than the strained one prior. You closed your eyes and simply took in the moment, gratitude filling your lungs.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes fluttered open. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m sorry that you had to leave because of me—”

Oh.

That was heart wrenching to hear.

The apology signified a wound, an old one.

A self-inflicted one.

Oh no.

“Unnie,” you began slowly, reaching for her hands. You could see the tears brimming. “Do you… do you blame yourself for my decision? Has guilt been eating at you all of these years?”

“I just… you left. Jihoon left. If I had just said something, then—”

“Unnie.”

She bit her lip at your definitive tone.

“Nothing, nothing, about this was your fault.  Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t mine and it wasn’t his either. We all struggled to ‘just say something’. Unnie, we were young and dumb. We still are young and dumb,” you squeezed her hands for emphasis. “If you say you’re sorry, then okay. I forgive you. But I just want you to know that past me never blamed you. Never.”

She let out a choked sob and you found yourself crossing to the other side of the table, enveloping her in your arms, tucking her head under your chin. She buried her face into your chest and you just rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for never reaching out. I’m sorry I never cleared the air. I’m sorry I was so scared.”

“We needed time and space apart, unnie. To figure ourselves out. And I did. I really did. And I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I kept tying my self-worth into Korea, into Busan, into you, into him. But that doesn’t mean I cut you off in order to do it. I don’t think I ever could,” you squeezed tighter. “Thank you for saying that you’re sorry, but there really is no need, not to me.”

And so she cried into your arms, emptying herself of tears. Later, you filled that space with your stories of adventure, your kind words, and your love. And she did the same for you.

In that moment, Busan never seemed so much more like home.

���─────────────────

“So, New York, huh?”

You glanced up at your boss, the social worker in charge of running the different programs tied to the university, the same one who got you involved with the group home, the same one who offered you a full-time position after graduation in training new recruits, specializing in the Child and Family division, but also providing self-care guidance to the rest of the staff since your specialty in school was around Behavioral and Mental Health.

The pay was good, seeing as it was run by professionals partnered with SKY: Seoul National University, Korea University, and Yonsei University. What most Koreans would consider to be the ‘Ivy League’ of South Korea. Although, being a community leader was definitely a far-cry from a prestigious position as an assistant professor.

“Ah. Yeah, New York.”

“Nice place.”

“It’s… yeah. It’s nice.”

“Is the air better there than here?”

“No fine dust, but there’s a lot of smog.”

She pulled a displeased face. “Is that better?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. You wanted to reduce into a puddle and slip through the vents, dreading this conversation.

“You should go.”

Uh. What?

You parroted those exact words out loud.

“I may have lost some of my mind’s sharpness to age and time, but if I remember correctly, New York City is one of the most popular places in the world. And I hear that it would be a good place for a young, spry lady like you to get your bright mind out there. The world needs a little more of you and if New York City is the best way to do it, so be it.”

“I’m… I’m…”

“A wonderful human being who will make the most of the hand that she’s dealt. I’ve seen you make castles out of cardboard.”

“You… you want me to go to New York?”

“Oh, Heavens no. Not at all. I would love to just keep you here forever,” she sighed, going so far as to lean back in her desk chair. You resisted the urge to laugh at her theatrics. “But you’re not a princess locked up in a tower. You have the power to make your own choice, and I know that whichever path you go down, it will be a flowery one. You’ll make it one. Because that’s just what you do, Y/N.”

“What if… What if I’m not sure?”

She tilted her head back down to meet your eyes and gave you a smile that was slightly off-putting, as though you had fallen into a trap she carefully laid out. “Then, what can I do to convince you to stay here?”

“I think a part of me thinks I’m wanting to stay here because I’ve found my home here. I think I’ve become incredibly comfortable here. In Korea.”

She blinks at you. “Is… that a bad thing?”

“I think... I think that I’m wanting to stay here because I love it here and the work I do and the people I’ve met, but I think I’m wanting to leave because I’m trying to prove that I’m not tied down to a particular person. Because I feel like everyone thinks that I can’t live my life without them, so I want to prove that I can do it. That I will.”

“So… you’re trying to prove that you’re not influenced by said person, by, uh, being influenced by said person?”

“Uh.”

“‘Uh,’ indeed.”

“What if… I’m staying here because I subconsciously think that everyone is right? That I actually can’t live without them? Not actually?”

“Is that person me?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I’m a little hurt you answered that so quickly, but. To prove my point. You are here, in my office, yes?”

“Yes…?”

“Are they?”

“No…?”

“Then. You’re living without them, aren’t you? Right here. In front of me. Heart pumping out blood through your veins and your brain shooting off neurons. You’re alive. Without them.”

“It’s… it’s a little different, Doctor, I—”

“Y/N. You’re dazzling. Almost overwhelmingly so. There is no one. No one who can overshadow you in the way you think they can. No matter what underlying influences, no matter what puppetry you may think is going on, you call the shots. You get to decide what to include in your life moving forward. If this person has as much power as you think they do over you, I’d like to meet them. Because you’re a force to be reckoned with.”

You bit your lip. “Is… Is it okay to be so selfish?”

“You said so yourself, Y/N. You found a home here. Or more like, knowing you, you built a home here. Korea will forever be marked by you. Seoul. Busan. Everywhere you’ve gone. That’s something that the majority of the world cannot say, because everyone feels a little lost, a little out of place. But you? No. You have a place. Right here. And, I mean, even at the end of the day, if you go off somewhere else, you’ll always have a place to return to that will welcome you with open arms.”

“Doctor, I…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“...I think I wanna stay.”

“Perfect. I’ll have them write up your contract.”

──────────────────

[04:12] Lee Jihoon: i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am

[4:12] You: i still have the sleep schedule of a doctoral student, you know

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: oho i see

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: and u still owe me a gift, doctor

[4:12] You: 🥴🥴🥴 i thought you forgot

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: never

[4:13] You: ok lee jihoon, what do you want?

[4:13] Lee Jihoon: can i call u

[4:13] You: ? sure?

Before you could even type, ‘is something wrong?’, his name and profile picture (which wasn’t even of him, it was that dumb photo of Hansol) flooded your screen. Your finger slid across before you could even give a second thought.

“Um. Hello?” Silence met your ears. You wondered whether the call actually went through. You pulled the phone away from your cheek and pressed ‘speaker’. “Jihoon…?”

“Ah, sorry. Yes. Wow. Hi.”

You knew speaker was the better option. Hearing his voice that close to your ear would have given you heart palpitations, or at least, worse than what was already happening. “Yes, hello yourself. Did you need something?”

“Huh?”

“You called?”

“Oh. Yeah. No. I just. Wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything. I think staring at a screen would’ve made me fall asleep faster, but I wanted to talk. To you. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s okay.”

You heard him release a sigh of relief (?). “Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”

You hummed, realizing there was a chance he didn’t exactly prepare conversation topics. “I decided to stay in Seoul.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. My boss here convinced me.”

“Tell them thank you.”

You snorted. “It wasn’t hard to.”

“Columbia is a pretty prestigious place, though.”

“Huh. How’d you know that?”

“Might’ve asked Hansol and Jisoo-hyung.”

You clicked your tongue. “Jihoon, just because they’re American doesn’t mean—”

“Nope. That’s exactly what it means.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Okay, okay.”

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

“Uh—what?”

“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea. You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even bigger school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So. I’m proud of you.”

Your throat felt tight. “It’s not that big of a deal—”

“But it is, firefly.”

Oh, that nickname. “I mean, I just—”

“You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”

“Jihoon, I—”

“I’ve missed you.”

Before you could even make a noise (not that you could), he continued.

“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls. And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle go down. That kind of stupid.”

You couldn’t form words.

But you tried.

“I… I missed you too.”

You could’ve sworn you heard utter satisfaction in his voice. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”

“Okay.”

“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”

“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”

His laughter rang throughout your empty room and your chest tightened.

“Alright, we’ll go with just firefly then.”

Tears formed in your eyes at the ‘we’. You felt like you were fifteen and back in your childhood bedroom, after a long, long hours, ending your night by telling him about your day. The words you denied yourself for years tumbled out of your mouth, “Night, night, Jihoonie.”

A low chuckle met your ears.

“Sleep well, firefly.”

──────────────────

“He fucking booty called you?”

“Unnie, that’s not—”

“Nuh-uh, bumblebee. Any call past 3am is a fucking booty call.”

“So, when you called me past 3am, it was a booty call? I feel violated.”

“Time zones, Wheein. Doesn’t count,” Hyejin said dismissively.

Wheein puffed out her cheeks and stabbed the salad in front of her, piercing a lettuce leaf. You wanted to laugh at her infantile display, but you knew that would only result in her turning against you. And Hyejin was already a formidable opponent.

“He’s an idol,” you repeated for what seemed like the millionth time. “His rehearsal didn’t end until 3am.”

“He didn’t even tell you what he wanted for a gift,” Wheein interrupted.

“Yeah, what the hell is that about?” You muttered, turning back to your own plate of fries. You chewed on one thoughtfully as you made eye contact with Hyejin who gave you a deadpanned look. “What?”

“God, you two are dense, aren’t you?”

“Um, rude?”

“The phone call was the gift,” Hyejin explained.

“What a shitty gift.”

“Yeah, what? I would’ve asked for, like, Y/N’s homemade japchae.”

“Or my kimchi jjigae.”

“Or her dwaejigogi-bokkeum—wait. Stop distracting me,” Hyejin shook her head. “Regardless, bumblebee. He called you and that was his gift.”

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous notion. “Sure, Jan.”

“Don’t make Brady Bunch references at me. We’re not American.”

“No, but we do use the internet,” you reminded her. “Anyways, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ve got other things to worry about. Like the fact that my cousin and his fiancée are coming in about a week and they want to get dinner together before they get shit-faced over the weekend. My only task is to gather blackmail material whenever the bachelorette happens with her friends.”

“Sounds like my kind of job.”

“Yes, Wheein-unnie, it really does.”

“Aren’t you gonna see him then?”

“Who? Jihoon?”

“Yeah, like. Aren’t you gonna see him next week? Isn’t he in your cousin’s bachelor party troupe or whatever the hell it’s called?”

You cocked your head to the side. “I don’t think I’ll see him? I shouldn’t see him. I think they’re gonna be in a different part of Seoul.”

“Huh. That would’ve been cool, though.”

“What?”

“You know that scene in dramas, where the main characters meet each other again for the first time in a long time and it’s all fuzzy and slow motion and there’s music playing in the background?”

“That’s—what? No. That doesn’t actually happen in real life, unnie.”

Hyejin pursed her lips. “Sure, Jan.”

──────────────────

“Ladybug!”

“Move aside, second-rate, that’s my lovebug.”

Your unnie ran into your open arms after she shoved her fiancé aside. You laughed at his crestfallen face but squeezed your future family as tight as you could. She squealed at your strength but nuzzled her face into your neck anyway.

“She’s… she’s my cousin, you know.”

“Yeah, but she chose me, which means that she likes me more. Chosen family is always better.”

“What? No—”

“She’s right, oppa,” you quipped. “Chosen family is always better. Has Lilo and Stitch taught you nothing?”

“I—you two always do this. You two always gang up on me and Jihoon, and—”

“Our table is ready, oppa. Let’s go take a seat.”

“For once, can you two listen to me, please?”

“He’s asked that before, unnie.”

“And we abided at that one time, right, lovebug?”

“Yes. He said to listen for once and we did.”

“Once only means one time, am I wrong?”

“No, unnie, you’re not.”

“God, forget it. Where’s the damn table? I need a drink.”

The two of you laughed at your cousin’s outburst and retreating figure as you both linked arms to follow after.

──────────────────

One appetizer in, you swirled the lemonade in your hands, appreciating the visible pulp as an indicator of its freshness. Your cousin, on the other hand, was several beers in, face slightly flushed, a permanent lazy grin plastered on his face.

“Wow, I’m surrounded by my two favorite girls—”

“What about your mom?”

“Or your dog?”

“Or Jennie from Blackpink?

“Or Zero Two from Darling in the FRANXX?”

“Oh God. He watched Darling in the FRANXX?”

“Ugh, yes, lovebug, let me tell you—”

“ANYWAY. YEAH. MY TWO FAVORITE GIRLS.”

The two of you snickered at his outburst. Your cousin’s phone pinged and he shielded it from you, squinting like an old man, staring at the screen with a tilted head. “Oh, hey, he’s five minutes away.”

You made an inquisitive sound. “Who?”

The two of them exchanged nervous glances, your cousin visibly swallowing.

Your unnie was the one who decided to speak up.

Because they knew you wouldn’t ever get mad at her.

Oh no.

“I know we didn’t give you the time to prepare, but we thought that you would’ve run away if we told you earlier, but Jihoon is coming here and—”

You could see her mouth move but you only heard a dull ringing.

You tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Wait.

Could you even speak? Where was your mouth again? Did it even move? What was happening? Where were you? Who were you?

“Y/N.”

You thought you felt a hand place itself on your shoulder. You turned to the sound source. “Yes?”

“Are you breathing?” “I think so.”

Your vision focused enough to recognize the looks of concern from the two seated at the booth.

Your heart sank. Oh no. Oh no.

Jihoon was going to see the two of them together, engaged.

He was going to be completely shattered.

“Lovebug, are you crying?”

“I—”

“Jihoon! Hey!” Your cousin’s voice went up several octaves from its regular position. You froze and cast your eyes downward, shrinking back as far into the seat as you could.

“Hey, hyung.”

Even the highest quality of speakers could not do this man’s voice justice, you realized.

“Oh my goodness, it’s our Jihoonie! Hi!”

You prepared yourself to hear the strain in his voice that you knew would tear you up inside.

“Hi, noona.”

Wait. What?

He spoke with such nonchalance, your head shot up in surprise.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Was your vision still fuzzy from earlier?

Did someone turn the playback speed to 0.5x?

Was that music playing?

(Shit. Hyejin was right.)

Your tongue mindlessly ran across your lips.

Oh wow.

He was really built like that, huh? His fair skin was so clear, you could have sworn there was a halo of light emitting from him. Cleanly done undercut, his ebony bangs fell messily just above his eyes, oh God, those crescent eyes, those bright, bright, bright—

Has he always looked at you like that?

“Hey, firefly.”

“Holy fuck.”

The older two gawked for a moment before your cousin began to berate you, going so far as to threaten to wash your mouth out with soap, while your unnie had her jaw dropped in horror. But you couldn’t look away from Jihoon. Surprise flitted across his face, but only for a moment. It settled into an uptilted corner of his lip and amusement dancing in his irises.

The woman before him, he only ever caught fleeting moments of. From social media posts by old friends to grainy photos from news outlets regarding your doctoral work. You were always so hard to pin down, like trying to catch a sunbeam in his hands.

You changed. So much.

You grew more into yourself, a woman you crafted with your own hands. There was a quiet confidence woven into you, so blatantly obvious, even though your current posture would convince everyone else otherwise. But he wasn’t everyone else. He could see the burning flame you’ve had since you were children, but it was more refined, more honed in, more in your control.

That made you more dangerous.

But that flustered look on your face.

Maybe you hadn’t changed too much.

And that gave him hope.

──────────────────

[끝.]

[side B: him.]

[suguruverse]

hi! idk if it’s being requested already or in the works but could i request being best friends with mattsun and makki?

— BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH MATTSUN AND MAKKI

authors note - hey yall.. long time no see. don’t expect me to come back yall i just wanted to clear my drafts a lil bit since this has been sitting in the drafts for like a year 🫣🫣

fem!reader

- lemme tell you this friendship hands down definitely has the most platonic flirting EVER

- AND THEY'RE SO BAD WITH IT AS WELL

- they unironically call you mamas or bae/baby girl

- but they are the best to have at parties and shit OH MY GOD

- they can tell with one look if you're uncomfortable and will be by your side immediately

- unlike the others, they actually encourage you to talk to other people

- but that doesn't mean that they won't wear terrible disguises while following you on dates

- you can bet your ass that they will throw it back on you every chance they get and they expect for you to catch it EVERYTIME

- they LIVE for making you flustered and purposefully try to make to mad

- they say stuff like "ohh you wanna kiss me so bad" or "oh yeah" bc yk hot boy shit

- nah bc you and mattsun definitely used to hate each other before makki locked you guys in a room together to talk things out and it resulted in you both HYSTERICALLY crying and hugging each other

- you guys have done the thing where you guys go out super dressed up and go to mcdonalds or something

- these stupid bitches pull your bra straps and let go when it snaps you, they think they’re so funny

- they also have no boundaries with you whatsoever for example they will walk into the bathroom while you’re showering and have a full blown conversation with you or walk in while you’re literally on the toilet

- they also say stuff like ‘how often do you shave your pubes?’ or ‘can you check if i have an ingrown hair on my ass’

- sometimes they purposefully dress down so you look extra sexy

- when olivia rodrigo's album came out, you guys all went to makki's place and definitely cried in each others arms

- for some reason they love commenting weird things under your posts like "let me be your best friends to lovers trope" "ur so hot pls be my sugar mommy" "i would hide a body for you" or "i've told my therapist about your ass"

- mattsun's bio on his twitter and instagram is literally "property of y/n"

- makki's bio is "y/n's sugar babie <3"

- PLS YOU ALL THIRST OVER IWAIZUMI TOGETHER AND HE'S SO SICK OF YALL

- also mattsun has a milf of a mother and she's the only reason you and makki come over

- MATTSUN SWEARS UNDERNEATH HIS BREATH AND IT'S SO HOT AHHH

- he also has intense road rage and it's hilarious bc he's the designated driver

- WHENEVER YOU GUYS FACETIME, THEY MAKE IT THEIR DUTY TO TAKE THE UGLIEST SCREENSHOTS OF YOU AND THEY THREATEN TO SEND IT TO IWAIZUMI WHENEVER YOU PISS THEM OFF BC THEY KNOW ABOUT YOUR FAT CRUSH ON HIM <//3

- okay so i feel like makki has obsessions with the most random anime characters and cries over them weekly

- HE IS AN UGLY CRIER AS WELL DO YOU FEEL SO BAD WHENEVER YOU LAUGH AT HIM CRYING

- they love going on wattpad and reading cringey smut stories and depending on how bored they are, they would have competitions on how well they can write their own

- on your birthday, makki sent you a link and it was a you x iwaizumi fanfic

- they love leaning on u for some reason???

- y’all definitely go to playgrounds at like 3 am just because and then just watch makki fly off the swings

- they very much have a ‘what’s yours is mine’ mentality like you cannot eat or own something without them taking it

- they unintentionally yet intentionally grab ur boobs </3 i’m sorry

[adoresoperecs]

Kim Seokjin

Say you want me (S) @jeonsjiddies

Summary: Reluctantly joining your friend at a party pays off when you end up alone with Seokjin in his apartment and he shows you what you’ve been missing out on.

Breakfast in bed (F) married au @babeejeon

View (S) by @noteguk

Summary:  in which Seokjin likes to show people what is his. 

Broken nose (F) best friends to lovers @taetaespeaches

Summary: “I broke your nose, and I’m sorry for that, but what you’re doing isn’t fair”

All because of you (F) @taegularities

Summary: They said food is the ultimate way to someone's heart. It would be a shame if Seokjin didn't try to at least confirm this belief

Easter Sunday (F) @jjungkookislife

Summary: An Easter announcement for Jin.

No more bad words (F) parents au @jjungkookislife

Summary: Jin accidentally curses in front of his daughter.

My type (S) @floralseokjin

Summary: You take the college nerd’s virginity

The nanny series (F, S) dilf Jin @jjungkookislife

Summary: Jin needs a nanny for his son, but when he hires you, he gets that and so much more.

Favor (S, F) best friends to lovers au @jjungkookislife

Summary:There was very little your best friend, Seokjin could say no to.

Lazy day (F, S) @ttttaehyungie

Summary: As payment for waking you up, your boyfriend owes you cuddles. You’re here to collect that payment. Anything that happens beyond that? It’s not your doing.

Silly kitty (F) hybrid Jin @jincherie

Happy kitty pt 2 of silly kitty (F) @jincherie

Carnival rides (S, F) @geniuslab

Summary: Working at your parents’ funnel cake stand during the summer sounds like a decent enough gig. But you didn’t quite plan for the exhausting heat or the cute gelato guy who would make it his mission to get you to like him. Warning: This ride will get you wet!

Big dick (S,F) @floralseokjin

Summary: Your new boyfriend has a really big dick

One night stand (F) @v-hope

No fights before bed (A,F) @babeejeon

Prompt: Call me in the middle of the night and tell me you can’t sleep without me.

Kiss cam (F) @v-hope

Verlgen (S, F) @untaemedqueen

Like this (S) @jeongi

Summary: your neighbour, seokjin, teaches you exactly how he likes to be touched.

Love bites (S) @luxekook

Summary: you’re stuck working the evening shift on valentine’s day at bangtan bistro. as the city’s most expensive and exclusive restaurant, the bistro draws in couples both old and new with partners looking to propose or to impress. your tolerance for PDA and cringey lovebirds has never been lower. throw a flirty chef into the mix and you’re in for a bumpy ride that might just conclude with a happy ending.

Kiss it better (S) @ppersonna

Summary: your best friend Kim Seokjin makes you an offer you can’t refuse

Thunder (S) @ppersonna

Summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year. apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

leather loafers (F) @jimlingss

Summary: Yes, you went to the ball Yes, you ran into the prince. Yes the shoe fits. BUT!- You aren't that Cinderella bitch. THEY'VE GOT THE WRONG BITCH

kitchen romance (F) @jimlingss

Summary: You come from a long line of matchmakers. Your ancestors ancestors were matchmakers and its all because of a special, inborn gift. A gift that allows you to see each person fated ones above their heads. But its not a gift when one day, your boss walks in with YOU above him.

getting bigger (S,F) @sweetwritertanya

Summary: You are eating less than you probably should during your pregnancy because you’re afraid of gaining even more weight. Your husband, Jin, discovers this and is incredibly angry at you.

favorite dessert (S) @sweetwritertanya

Summary: Jin becomes aware of a particular fetish he seems to have that involves you and food, namely whipped cream that you just happen to be making when he comes home…

sexual fantasy (S) @circus-babe

Summary: A fantasy that might have made its way into the real world.

forty-seven steps (F) @jeonqkooks

Summary: Seokjin thinks he's decent at building things. Well, he's never met an IKEA storage bed.

breeding (S) @c0llisiion

Payment plan (S) @trivia-yandere

Summary: Your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity.

Knocked (F, S) @sailoryooons

Summary: Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

Meet me at the bar (S) @eoieopda

Summary: You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

Thank you, daddy (S) @ktheist

Summary: The last time you saw seokjin was when he went off to college and never looked back. uncle kim, a friend of your father who treated you like his own daughter, would complain about his estranged son whenever he came to visit in the new year and got drunk and turned into a pathetic sobbing mess.

Dream come true (F, S) @sugaurora

Summary: Since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

Tuna Fish (S, F) @floralseokjin

Summary: Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he? In the end, it takes one charity car wash event and one – or two, depending on how dirty your mind is – soakings to make things very clear.

Jin Fic recs by @kingofbodyrolls

Forever (S,A,F) @oddinary4bts

Summary: three years ago, your relationship with jin ended in fights and tears. When life puts him back on your path, you catch a glimpse of light in his eyes that you thought had died when you broke up. Will your relationship blossom into a well-deserved forever or will you lose the love of your life again?

Off Limits Series (S) @floralseokjin

Summary: You've been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can't ignore the sexual tension that's simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

Im all yours (S) @sailoryooons

Summary: You’ve been in love with your best friend Jin for as long as you can remember. You know everything about him – except that he is also entirely in love with you.  

Turn Back Now (A,F,S) @raplinesmoon

Summary: After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

[taro-im]

Tsukishima Calls you Fat~

warning: kind of angst to fluff

*******ALSO ALL BODY SIZES R BEAUTIFUL *******

this is just a scenario so pls love your bodies

also this is my first time writing so sry if it sounds cringey or weird 😶

Tsukishima and you are about to go to your first year of college

Tsukishima and you have been dating since your first year in Karasuno, in your third year you were starting to stress out more because of exams, career paths, and the future

So during your last year you have been stress eating it has been a bad habit of yours to stress eat, you didn’t pay attention to how much you ate because you were more focused on exams and getting into your dream college

You barely spended time with your boyfriend Kei Tsukishima you guys haven’t seen each other after graduation …………….

Finally you got into your dream college, it felt like you were on Cloud 9

The first person you called was Kei and he was so happy for you

Him and you got into the same college and planned to rent an apartment together in 2 months………..:…………………………………………….

One day you were in the bathroom and noticed you gained more weight than usual, you went on your scale and noticed you gained 10 pounds you were shocked and disappointed in your self, how did you gain 10 pounds in only 3 months? you blamed yourself and beated yourself up about it

Then you decided to go on a diet, you felt embarrassed if Tsukishima saw you like this, you didn’t hung out with him, you lied and texted him “ I’m going to my home town for the summer” You barely ate, all you did was run and exercise all summer it was always very hard for you to loose weight since you were a child

Finally you only lost a couple pounds, you felt more confident and happy

lil time skip college starts soon

it has been the day you’ve been waiting for, seeing your boyfriend after 2 months of only texting each other, you jumped into his arms and hugged him so tight and he patted you on the head and said “ idiot your hugging me too tight I’m not going anywhere come one lets put our things in out apartment” you giggled and both started to unpack and settle into this new place that you will be sharing with your loving boyfriend

You and Kei talk about how your summers went and cuddled under the beautiful view of the Tokyo night sky

time skip 4 months of living together

It was a very stressful day for you, you had 2 big projects due in a week, that would affect your grade. You haven’t stressed ate in a long time tbh when you ever were stressed you would either barely eat or eat to much but you would never noticed

You and Kei never really saw each other only in the morning, He worked part time at a music store and the job ended at twelve so you only had a glimpse of each other before you went to school, that whole week you stressed ate and binged, finally it was time to turn in the assignment and you gotted an A on both you were so happy and all the stress was gone, you celebrated with one of your friends from high school at a restraunt, she looked at you and said “ omg y/n you gained so much weight what happened did you stress eat again???” Suddenly you mood was sour, she enjoyed the dinner and you barely touched your food, you looked in the mirror in disgust and noticed you gained that weight back you hated yourself for it so you tried you best at starving your self, you lost most of the weight you gained and felt a little better

Today was a Saturday, Tsukishima was off and today you and him finally got to spend time with each other after a long time even though you both live together you barely saw each other or texted each other then you used to, it felt like your relationship was falling apart

Tsukishima wasn’t in his best mood today and you didn’t even knew that he got fired from his job. While Tsukishima was in a bad mood you were so happy he got to stay home today so you figured that you and him could cuddle and watch movies together so you made cookies and brought snacks from the store and went to his room……………

“Keiiiii guess whattttt I made cookies for us and some snacks we could watch a movie and cuddle together” you said in pure excitement not noticing he was pissed “ not now” he groaned “come on we haven’t spent time with each other for a long time it will be fun” you said, “Can you fuck off Y/n I’m not in the mood right now and it looks like you’ve gained weight so I think it’s best not to eat any cookies or snack right now you should be in a diet” he said in anger and frustration, your face wall full of embarrassment, you holded in your tears, you didn’t even know what to say all you could think of to say was “ sorry for bothering you I’ll just throw the food away” you left and closed the door trying to hold in your embarrassment, guilt, and anger you were trying your best to loose that weight you only had 1 meal a day you haven’t had snacks since the project which was a month ago, your friend called you fat but you didn’t really take close to heart because she was only being honest, you tried your best but now suddenly your boyfriend tells you this? You feel so lonely, even though you both were bo the living in the same roof it feels like you were more distant then ever, all your insecurities when into your head.

After that fight you saw Tsukishima more often but it was so awkward, you tried avoiding him he would try to start a convo with you but you would cut him off and say “ sorry I have um I have something important to do” and you would go to your room, he would always be in the living room studying, you felt really petty for ignoring him but you just couldn’t go back to normal he didn’t even apologize, you took his words to close to heart and barely ate just water and some granola

“Hey Y/n I brought your favorite cake today and your favorite drink come eat with me” he said, He literally just called me fat 2 weeks ago the fuck? you felt so angered and said “just throw it away I don’t want to get fat” “who called you fat you look fine?” He said so confused, you had tears from built up anger, tears trickled down your face making Tsukishima shocked and hugged you tightly “darling what’s wrong why are you crying who made you upset?” He said confused “you literally called me fat 2 weeks ago, and told me to fuck off i just wanted to spend time with you, and you just got angry at me” you said sniffling, Tsukishima suddenly remembered what happened 2 weeks ago he was so angry that he accidentally took his anger out on you “I’m so sorry Y/n I’m such an idiot… I took out my anger on you that I didn’t even payed attention to what I said, that day I got fired from my part time job and I wasn’t in a good mood I’m so sorry baby I didn’t mean to hurt you” he said sounding regretful “It’s ok Kei I’m sorry to hear that you got fired are you ok?” You said concerned “It’s ok but I just needed a little more money to get you that bag you saw in high school I was going to surprise u for yur birthday but I can’t buy it now” he said, so the reason why you didn’t see him that much is because he wanted to buy that bag In display during high school which was really expensive… he really remembered that one time you went to Tokyo together in highschool, You always thought that your boyfriend never really noticed but he did. Both of you makes up with each other but Tsukishima was mostly sorry and you both decided to go on a date tommorow and spend the whole day together

[ningningsplushie]

The Cute Barista

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Word Count: 2,263

Genre: Cafe au, semi-comfort fic

Summary:  Your favourite barista has moved away and in her place is the ever charming Park Jimin. Can he comfort you just the same?

Warnings: Cringey pick up line (rip but it fit well with the story), stressed and upset reader

After a long day, a trip to the cafe was exactly what she needed. Classes were kicking her ass, what with essays, assignments, and presentations piling up on the daily, not to mention her trying to keep up with work and her own personal life. A calming sit-down, with a nice book, along with her favourite barista, Hwa Young, would surely cheer her up.

Opening the door to the cafe, the smell of brownies and buttercream frosting immediately wafts up her nose. The overall atmosphere of the place, with its pastel pinks walls and baby blue trimming, its bubbly aura due to the dainty display of desserts, large windows, and sweet jazz music instantly calms Y/N after a hectic day.

Walking up to the cash register, she realizes that Hwa Young isn’t at her usual station, neither is she wiping down the tables or serving customers.

She spots a blond boy standing in place of her favourite barista and decides to ask for her whereabouts. “Excuse me, I was wondering where Hwa Young was?”

The boy looks up from the till and gives her a warming grin, cheeks almost covering his eyes. My, he’s really handsome. Handsome, however, was an understatement. His face had an innocent, boyish charm to it, with large, honest eyes, plump lips with a subtle cupid’s bow, and a soft jaw.

“I suppose you’re in the dark about her.” Hearing this, Y/N grows worried and the boy sees this. “Oh don’t worry,” he scrambles, panicking for frightening her, “she just moved to Japan for university. She left just last week.”

She left? Crestfallen, Y/N looks to the ground. Damn, I was really looking forward to seeing her. “Really? It’s just…she has a really comforting aura and it was something I needed right now. I suppose I won’t be getting that ever again, if not ever again.”

Y/N realizes her mistake of oversharing and clasps a hand over her mouth with wide eyes. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. The last thing you need right now is for a stranger telling you her problem.”

The new barista chuckles, “It’s alright, my sister was a big help to a lot of people so I understand.”

“Yeah, she- wait. Sister? She was your sister?” Y/N squeaks out.

“Is, not was. She’s still here with us, just far away. But yeah, after she left I decided to take her place here to help our mom run the cafe.”

“That’s sweet of you…” finding no reason to stay any longer she decides to leave, picking up her wallet from the counter. “Anyways, I’ve got to go, but uhhh, thank you for telling me about your sister. Have a nice day-” she reads the boy’s name tag. “Jimin. I’ll be going now.”

Just as she’s about to turn, Y/N feels a grip on her wrist, disabling her from leaving. Jimin looks at his hold on Y/N and quickly lets go.

“Listen, I know you’re not exactly in the best of moods right now and I know I’m not my sister but please, stay and give yourself a rest.”

She considers his comment for a moment before turning back to him and offering a tight-lipped smile.

“Alright. I’ll have a medium honey latte, please,” she says, offering Jimin money for her order.

Taking the money from her, he gives a mock salute, chest puffing out. “Coming right up, Miss.”

Y/N can’t help but giggle at his gesture, hands going up to cover her smile.

“Yeahhhh! That’s what we like to hear. My goodness, if I knew your smile was this bright, I never would have bothered to change the light bulbs in the chandeliers.” Jimin puts his arms out as if protecting himself from a bright flash and at this, Y/N laughs some more. Giving the barista some more material, he pretends to swoon, resting the back of his on his forehead. “Wow, wow, wow. I might as well just shut off our radio too. Your laugh sounds much nicer.”

Y/N blushes, earning a “cute,” from Jimin but then composes herself. “Call me Y/N, please.”

Nodding, he begins tinkering with the espresso machine. “Y/N, I might not be as comforting as my sister but I’m certainly more charming and cuter than her, aren’t I?” throwing a wink to the girl.

Y/N rolls her eyes and replies, “You guys share half of the same DNA.”

“That’s true but my DNA gave me the upper hand in looks.” Y/N couldn’t deny that. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips, how they formed when he smiles, or the position they were in whenever he pouted whilst concentrating.

“Alright, one medium honey latte for Y/N,” he whoops, placing the porcelain cup before her.

“Thank you so much.” Taking a sip from her drink, she closes her eyes in pure bliss, the warmth of the latte spreading throughout her body.

“How is it? Is it too sweet? I think I might have put too much sweetener in it so-”

“It’s perfect,” Y/N sighs, opening her eyes once more.

He gives a proud smile and pats his head. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll leave you alone now, let you decompress for a while.”

“Thank you for everything… for being so patient and kind. I appreciate it,” Y/N says, gazing out the window.

“A little kindness never anybody. I just hope I made your day somewhat better.”

“You definitely did.”

And with that, Jimin leaves the girl alone, moving on to his own barista duties of washing the dishes, clearing tables, and taking the orders of a few people who wanted a kick of caffeine. It was close to the evening which meant that the cafe was nearly empty, something Y/N found most agreeable as it allowed her to enjoy the soft music playing through the speakers while enjoying her recent read. For about thirty minutes or so, Y/N was enjoying her novel whilst sipping occasionally on her latte, and at that moment, she was finally at peace. Here, she was able to temporarily forget about school, work, and her general stresses in life. All that mattered was her tranquility, the porcelain cup sitting ahead of her, and the cast of characters splayed out in her book. Y/N realizes that her brow had loosened, curing her blistering headache ever since she stepped foot into the shop, especially since she talked to Jimin.

Leaving all her worries aside, Y/N gazes out the window and ponders. Everything is so beautiful right now, what with the snow gently falling and families walking hand in hand, she thought. It’s a shame I can’t fully enjoy life with all my stress plaguing my thoughts. I should just enjoy it while it lasts.

It didn’t last long, that is, only because Jimin came over with a fresh piece of what appeared to be strawberry shortcake. He places the plate in front of Y/N and leaves with a simple, “Bon appetit.”

“Hey wait! I didn’t order this.” she rushes to her feet to return the cake.

Jimin comes back, pushing Y/N by her shoulders so she’d sit back down. “I know you didn’t. But you can’t drink something on an empty stomach,” he urges, nudging the cake towards her and turning back around once again.

With her mouth shaped into an O’, she reaches for her wallet to pay for the dessert but before she can do so, Jimin, with his back towards Y/N, protests, “don’t even think of paying for the cake. It’s on the house.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly eat this without paying. Besides, won’t you get in trouble?”

“You can, and you will,” he affirms, now facing Y/N, slinging the rag over his shoulder, adding with, “plus, what’s the worst my mom can do? Not feed me Jjajangmyeon for two weeks? I can survive.”

Warily, Y/N begins to stab the fork into the cake before venturing with a meek, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he declares, giving her a warm smile that makes her want to eat the cake all the more, wanting to see his smile once more. “Also, I uhhhh,” Jimin stammers, “I wanted to give it to you cuz uhhh…it m-matches your sweater vest,” he declares, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment from his statement.

Confused, Y/N looks down at herself. As per usual, she was in a rush to attend her first lecture of the day and just threw on the first thing her eyes met, which was a pink, strawberry printed sweater vest over a white button-up. Wait. He just gave me a slice of cake because it matched my vest. How much cuter can this guy get? With a blush creeping up her face, she shoved a piece of the cake in her mouth, and in an instant, her tense shoulders dropped, like a weight lifted off of them. The sweetness and acidity of the strawberries coated her tongue but was soon covered by the velvety taste of the buttercream frosting.

“Wow Jimin, this is…absolutely delicious.”

He hums, “I’m glad you think so. I’ll be sure to tell my mom.”

“Yeah, you def- wait. Your mom?” Y/N interjects, mouth full of cake.

Jimin takes a napkin from the dispenser and wipes the frosting from the corner of her mouth and asks, “Did you really think I was the one who made the cake? You overestimate me, my dear friend,” he leans in closer to Y/N, lips frighteningly close to her ear and whispers, “I appreciate the sentiment though.” He pulls back and winks at her, hair falling over his eyes. “I just thought it befitting to feed you something as sweet as yourself.”

Shocked at his boldness, Y/N goes back to eating her cake, not quite sure how to respond to him, especially since she was turning redder and redder by the second and it feels like her tongue had been swallowed.

“Cute,” Jimin chuckles, going back to washing the dishes.

By the time Y/N finished eating, the sun had set and it was closing time, leaving only Jimin and Y/N to be the only two in the shop. She looked at the time and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Oh god, I’ve got to get going. I’ve got to wake up early tomorrow.”

Y/N scrambles to gather her items in her bag, her book, her phone, her wallet and is about to zoom out the door before she hears Jimin calling her name.

“Y/N hold up! You forgot something.” Bewildered, lets go of her hold on the door handle, and looks to the boy.

“Come here,” he beckons for Y/N to come closer.

Walking closer to the counter, Y/N has her hand reached out for him to place whatever it is she left behind. Jimin, placing something unbelievably small in her palm, smiles bright, cheeks overcoming his eyes. She looks down and sees a single Hershey’s chocolate kiss. Y/N looks back to Jimin for an explanation and what he says next throws her off completely.

“Hershey factories make millions of kisses a day, but I’m asking for only one…perhaps after our first date?”

Y/N is silent for a few beats as she registers his cheesy pickup line. Jimin, panicking, quickly regrets his words and goes to take back the kiss but is stopped when Y/N doubles over, shoulders shaking.

Concerned, the barista walks around the counter and puts his arms around Y/N, scared that he triggered what he thought were waterworks. “Y/N…I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” But then he hears laughter, belly-aching laughter, one that Jimin wants to hear all the time.

For a good minute, Y/N is hunched over, cackling while Jimin lets out small giggles but then ceases her laughter, wiping her tears away, and looks towards Jimin. “Wow, thank you for making me laugh like that. I haven’t done that for so long.”

Jimin frowns, “I’m happy I made you laugh but are you laughing at me or with me?”

“With you, I’d never laugh at you, especially since you made me feel so much better today,” Y/N replies.

“Oh thank God,” he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “So about that date…would you like to go out with me? I know it’s weird since we just met today but I heard a lot about you from Hwa Young and-and I always wanted to see what you were like. Our paths crossed and I didn’t want to give this moment up.”

Y/N considered how much of an impact he had on her in just one day and thought what it would be like being with him every day. She knew she’d feel tremendously better. As of now, she’s felt more comfortable than she had for a long while. Being around him reminded her of all the beautiful things she’s failed to notice and allowed her to feel like herself once more. If being around him felt like this, she never wanted it to end. His presence comforted Y/N and made her feel right at home. She definitely wasn’t going to turn him down.

“I’d love nothing more than to go out with you. But you better not break that promise of a kiss.”

Brushing a small strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, he replies with, “Oh, I promise.”