#also my first time posting a fic to tumblr like this lol so i hope it was okay ??? ive never used anything other than ao3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thefrogdalorian · 1 year ago

Text

From Now Until The End

Summary: After being away from you as part of his job with the New Republic, your partner Din surprises you with a trip to the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine to make up for it. But instead of the fun-filled day he had planned, you are overwhelmed by the many sights, sounds and noises. It leads you to finally share a part of yourself with Din that you had been hiding from him until now.

Rating: General Content Warnings: Descriptions of panic attacks/sensory overload. Word Count: 5446 Link to read on AO3 // Din x ND reader series

Authors note: After my post a few days ago about finding comfort in Din as a neurodivergent person provoked so many thoughful discussions, this fic just sort of landed in my lap today and I was not one to fight the muse. I really hope you enjoy it!

For the first part of your life, you had believed you were somehow cursed, such was the way bad luck was drawn to you like a womp rat to the sands of Tatooine. How did everything seem so simple for others when nothing ever seemed to go right for you? Had you missed out on some kind of crucial meeting that taught everyone else to be a functional human? Or were you just fundamentally broken? Getting a diagnosis of autism thanks to a knowledgeable healer that you had encountered quite by accident, had finally answered some questions for you and helped you to navigate the galaxy in a different way, allowing yourself far more grace and compassion than you ever had before. But it didn’t make all of your problems instantly vanish.

But your fortunes had changed forever on that fateful day when you had first encountered a man hunting imperial remnants for the New Republic in the course of your work in a Cantina, a job you loathed. He had strode in, seeking information that you had been happy to give him.

You were stunned when he had tried to give you some credits for it, it was just the right thing to do. You had always had a strong sense of justice. Sure, your boss probably wouldn’t be too happy if he had caught you fraternising with customers and conspiring to capture Imps with a Mandalorian, rather than doing your job. Which was, to pour flagons of spotchka and keep the peace. But the man in the shiny Beskar had been the first person in a while who had actually treated you like a fellow human being, rather than something to be leered at and ogled while you brought them more alcohol. You felt instantly at ease with him, the conversation flowing from your lips so naturally that you forgot he was a stranger. And you were usually so wary of strangers. To be as open as you were with him so quickly, it was clear that there was something special about this man.

People were usually wary of Mandalorians, they were still such a rarity in the galaxy after The Great Purge. But you realised after just a few minutes of talking to him, that there was something incredibly comforting and warm about the man beneath the armour. When he had left, you had felt so devastated it was almost pathetic. Of course he had left, he was only here in this backwater hellhole for a job, after all. It had been difficult to complete your shift without dissolving into sobs, you felt irritated and on the verge of a meltdown but if you were to try to explain it to anyone, even if you could find the words, it would not make any sense. A stranger had made you feel happier than you had in a long time? How was that normal?

Waking yourself up for your shift the following morning and dragging yourself into to face the most wretched hive of scum and villainy in the galaxy at your place of work had been one of the toughest things you had ever had to do. You loathed that cantina, that was situated right next to the starport on the formerly-Imperial planet in the mid rim. People were fleeting, passing through. It was seedy. There were secrets to be traded in and you knew if you weren't careful, you could pay with your life. But you had to keep going. The boss had taken you in and supported you when you were down on your luck. There was no alternative.

But the moment when you had caught the familiar glint of that shiny Beskar out of the corner of your eye as you were cleaning glasses had changed everything. At that moment, when Din had strode back into the cantina with that confident gait that you loved so much, it was as though all the misfortune you had endured had meant something. All the suffering you had experienced in your life was all being made up for now, when Din had returned and saved you from a monotonous life on that dead-end planet, working in a job you loathed with a hellish boss. You had left that day and never looked back.

Crossing paths with Din Djarin had been, without a doubt, the most fortunate thing that had ever happened to you. Although you had still been wary of his intimidating presence at first, despite how quickly you felt at ease with him; you had come to learn that despite his hulking, armoured form, there was a heart of gold beneath that cold, hard Beskar. As your relationship had gotten more serious and the two of you had grown closer and closer, your guilt at hiding such a big part of yourself had increased. There was not an easy way to tell people that you were autistic, you had discovered that over and over since you had received your diagnosis. There were often painful consequences once others discovered that there was a hint of difference. You knew it was foolish to think that with Din, he had proven to you time and time again to be a patient, understanding man. Not least because of how he treated you, but also because of how sweet he was to his son, Grogu.

Surprisingly, perhaps because he had spent the first part of your relationship hiding his face from you behind his helmet, you had not felt the need to mask as much as you usually did. There was no pressure to make eye contact and Din was so quiet that small talk was not an issue. He was direct, a man of few words. When he did speak, it was straight to the point. Something that you found immensely comforting from the moment you met him.

You had not wanted to burden him with the secret you were hiding from him though. At first, you had not thought it was important to bring up. People usually ran away or treated you differently. In the past, your honesty had been met with rejection or unkindness. Your heart ached to think of the same thing happening with Din.

But unfortunately, hiding that part of you was no longer an option. As you sat there, cowering in a cave that you had found away from all the noise that was characteristic of the Boonta Eve Classic, you wondered how on earth you were going to explain it to Din. This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. You wanted to drop it in conversation, nonchalantly, as though it wasn’t a big deal – because why should it be? Instead, your hand had rather been forced by how upset the accumulation of events that happened to you throughout the day had left you.

Din had taken a lot of jobs recently and the two of you had spent a considerable amount of time apart. But you didn’t spend your days alone, pining for him; he had secured a job for you with his friend, High Magistrate Greef Karga on the planet where you shared a cabin with him and Grogu. It was a beautiful tract of land, just past the lava flats. You felt extremely grateful that Din had wanted to invite you into the quiet life he had built for himself Grogu. So while Din was away, you had found yourself working in the Nevarrian archives and making sure everything was up to date and in order. For a detail-orientated person who loved order, it was a perfect job for you. Even better, it came with minimal human interaction, a parsec away both literally and metaphorically from that hateful Cantina. What’s more, you had an incredibly good-natured – not to mention handsome – man for a partner and his charming son, whom you had quickly come to adore. With those big brown eyes and ears that could melt your heart when they drooped downwards, there was no way you could do anything other than love Grogu.

But with so much time apart recently, Din had wanted to do something special to make it up to you. He had arranged to take you to the Boonta Eve Classic, an infamous event the entire galaxy over which took place annually on Tatooine. He had a friend who could babysit Grogu and it would be the perfect opportunity for the two of you to spend some quality time together. Din had told you about the time he had visited Tatooine on the day of it a couple of cycles ago but was unable to stay due to commitments elsewhere. You could see how excited he was to finally experience Boonta Eve and you would be lying if you weren’t excited too. It was definitely something on your bucket list, that you had wanted to experience for a while. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little daunted by it though, all the noise and people were sure to push you out of your comfort zone.

The heat of Tatooine was the first thing that stood out to you. Nevarro could be hot, but this was something else. It was repressive; you sweated just standing still. You wished you had dressed in something lighter, some cotton perhaps, rather than the shirt that seemed to cling to you. The bright, harsh light of the twin suns was also making your head buzz. You had felt a little shaky as you and Din climbed off the ship that had brought you here and headed for the hangar to meet Din’s friend who would take care of Grogu.

Din had introduced you to a few of his acquaintances since the two of you had gotten together and usually, you could understand why they were friends. You were about to meet the exception to that rule, though, in the form of a curly-haired, eccentric mechanic called Peli Motto. You had barely had a chance to catch your breath on this planet, which seemed determined to boil you to death, when you entered the hangar and met perhaps the most extroverted woman you had ever met in your entire life.

When you walked in, she had been conversing with some Jawas, her brown curly hair bobbing up and down furiously. Your understanding of the language was minimal at best, but it seemed to be a pretty heated discussion. Din shifted awkwardly next to you, Grogu in his arms. He cleared his throat and at once she spun around.

“Mando!” Peli exclaimed, throwing her arms up in delight. “Good to see ya, always a pleasure!”

“You too.” Din nodded in response.

“No ship today?” Peli asked, with a shrug. “Shame, I would’ve given her the ol’ once over for ya. For a good price, of course.”

“No, there wasn’t enough room. I’m here with my partner, you see.” Din said, nodding towards you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back to show that you were, in fact, an item.

“Well look at you! Isn’t Mando punching above his weight? You’re stunning.” Peli said with a grin, her hands coming to rest on her toolbelt. Although, judging by the amount of droids she employed, it didn’t look as though she did much work herself. “You know, if things don’t work out between the two of you, you give me a call. Alright?”

“Uh… alright?” You laughed apprehensively, taken aback by how brazen she was.

Din sensed your unease and swiftly moved the conversation on, removing his hand from your back and taking a few steps towards Peli, handing Grogu to her. Grogu cooed at being passed to the woman, who greeted him enthusiastically. You just stood there awkwardly, your arms felt heavy and you suddenly felt incredibly out of place, even though you were with your boys. You just wanted to leave this place behind and finally spend some quality time with Din. That was the entire point of your trip, after all.

After Din had reminded Grogu several times to mind his manners and not eat all of Peli’s food, the two of you left the hangar behind and walked hand-in-hand as you made your way towards the area where the Boonta Eve Classic was taking place. Din had splurged on grandstand seats for the two of you and, although you had expected it would be busy, as you got closer and closer, you were blown away by the capacity of the main stand. It seemed as though it could hold hundreds of thousands of people. Din must have sensed your unease since the whole interaction with Peli, as he checked in with you.

“You okay?” Din asked, looking at you. But all that greeted you was the harsh blackness of his visor, rather than the warm, comforting brown eyes that you loved so much. “Sorry about Peli, I should’ve given you a heads-up. She’s completely harmless, but I know she can be a lot, sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s okay.” You laughed nervously. “It’s just a lot busier than I was expecting.”

“It’s Boonta Eve!” Din shook his head as though it should be obvious, which only made you feel worse, somehow. “Biggest event of the year. There are a lot of people, though.”

“Yeah.” You said quietly.

“Let’s get some food. It was a long journey, you must be hungry.” Din said as he pointed towards a stall with a considerable throng of people surrounding it. “Look, I think those stalls sell Bantha cheese hoagies, We can get a refreshing glass of blue milk too.”

“Okay.” You agreed. It was true, you would probably feel better with some proper food in your system. It had taken the better part of a day to travel here from Nevarro, on one of the ships that had been specially chartered to take people to the event.

But the food had not helped. Nor had been crammed onto the bleachers alongside thousands of others without the comfort of Din’s face to ground you. Every time you looked at him, you were met with the unmoving gaze of his helmet, rather than his warm brown eyes that you loved so much. You had tried to maintain your composure throughout the afternoon through the many races and into the evenings, Din seemed to be enjoying himself and you didn’t want to ruin that from him. Much less could you even begin to get into why you were so upset, why you were struggling so much. He probably wouldn’t understand, he’d think you were strange. So you resolved to keep it together. It would all be over soon. You shut your eyes and took deep breaths as the final race began, knowing that you just had to make it through a few more minutes before you and Din would head back to the lodgings he had booked for the night – at great personal expense, if you had to guess.

But when the pod races had ended, after much cheering and ear-splittingly loud commentary coming from the speakers, there had been no reprieve. Instead, a fireworks display had started up, replacing one loud noise with another. If there was one thing you abhorred, it was sudden loud noises. They made you physically jump, completely terrifying you. It had been the thing that had tipped you over the edge into meltdown territory. You were trying your best to keep it together, to at least make it somewhere more private before you came apart. So you abruptly stood up, clapping your hands to your ears.

“Din… I need to leave.” You managed to squeak out before you were pushing your way along the row of bleachers and hurtling down the steps to somewhere quieter.

As you reached the bottom of the grandstand, your mind raced. Where could you go? You were somewhere completely alien to you. Plus, when you had made your way here, everything had been light. But now the suns had set and darkness had crept in. You were grateful that the harsh sun was no longer beating down furiously on you, but the lack of light disorientated you. Your vision started to blur as the tears began to fall, you were trembling, twisting your head furiously in desperate search of somewhere quiet you could get some privacy as you broke into pieces.

Mercifully, behind one of the vendors that were beginning to pack their wares up for the night, was an entrance to a cave. It was the perfect place for you to get some quiet away from the fireworks, which were still exploding all around you. Without a second thought – for your safety, for Din’s whereabouts – you darted inside the cave and found some peace. You sat there, arms around your knees, rocking back and forth as the meltdown that you had felt building pace for hours was finally crashing down with all its might on top of you.

The sound of footsteps outside the cave did nothing to reach you, such was the distress you found yourself in. It could have been anyone with nefarious intentions, you weren’t in a position to care. You weren’t in a position to take anything in, really. But, mercifully, it was the familiar sight of the Mandalorian who owned your heart. Din had found you; of course, he had, he was not once known as the best bounty hunter in the parsec for no reason.

“Cyar’ika? What’s wrong?” Din asked, voice full of concern as he closed the distance towards you.

He took a seat on the cold, firm floor of the cave in front of where you were currently sitting in a state of distress, unreachable as you felt the world was ending.

“What happened?” Din asked, again. But his voice sounded slightly different this time and, as you opened your eyes and looked at him through your tears, you realised why. You could finally see the face of the man that you loved so much, the face you had been aching to see all day.

“Di- Din?” You sniffled. You respected his devotion to the Creed entirely – although he had chosen to walk a different path to the Way he was raised, he still only removed his helmet around you and Grogu.

“I’m here, cyar’ika. I’m not leaving you.” Din said, reaching out to pat your knee awkwardly, clearly scared that he was going to upset you more.

You took some deep breaths, attempting to compose yourself so you could speak to him and let him know the truth, about what had caused your sudden loss of composure and subsequent meltdown. To an outsider, you knew they looked inexplicable but inside your head, they made complete sense.

“Was it something I did? Was it the fireworks?” Din questioned, although the cave was almost entirely in darkness, you could still see the concern on his face. “I’m so sorry, I thought you knew they were part of Boonta Eve.”

“I didn’t…” You struggled for breath, “...know.”

“I’m so sorry. Were they too loud? Din asked you, you were grateful that he was keeping it to questions that could be answered with a yes or no. They were far easier to reply to in your current state.

“Yes.” You nodded your head furiously.

“Okay, okay. I think I get it.” Din said, continuing to stroke your knee gingerly. The warm pressure and presence of his hand was a welcome addition. It soothed you, rather than repulsed you as could sometimes happen when you were in a state of meltdown. “Take your time, get your breath back.”

You weren’t sure for how many minutes you sat there, trying to compose yourself so you could speak to Din and let him in. Let him know what had caused your distress. You knew what it was, but this could change everything. For a second, that made you cry harder. But then you comforted yourself with all the times Din had been understanding before, when you had returned from work upset or when he had been kind and patient to Grogu, the little boy with an immense gift.

Eventually, though, you were composed enough to initiate a conversation with the man who was so concerned about you, who you knew wanted to help you and understand what had upset you so much. You couldn’t bear the thought of him believing that it was his fault, if nothing else, you had to let him know that there was nothing he could have done to prevent this.

“Sorry for running off.” You said sincerely, struggling to meet Din’s gaze as you sat there in the cave together. “It wasn’t your fault, Din.”

“Do you want to talk about what caused it, now?” Din asked. “No pressure to but if I know, perhaps I can help you in future.”

You could have launched into a detailed history of your life, about how you knew from an early age that you were different. That, despite your human parents, you had repeatedly questioned whether you were, in fact, an alien who had been adopted, somehow. How things had not made sense until the day that healer looked into your eyes and told you those words: You are autistic. The way, even after that, things still did not make sense. How you thought that logically, having a diagnosis should make things easier to understand, that often you felt as though you understood yourself even less now.

But you didn’t. You could tell Din those things another time. For now, there was only one thing that Din needed to know. You closed your eyes and uttered the three words that could change everything for you, that could rip this man and the life you were building together away from you:

“Din… I’m autistic.” You said, shutting your eyes as though you were anticipating some kind of violence in response to the admission of your diagnosis.

When you opened them, though, there was no pain to be rained down on you. Only love and acceptance. Before you, the man you had grown so close to sat there cross-legged, his warm brown eyes widened in shock, as he nodded slowly in understanding.

“Okay,” Din said with another firm nod, making sure that he was looking directly at you. “What can I do to help you?”

“You’ve been so understanding and accepting of me already. I just sometimes struggle to put into words how I’m feeling. It’s as though I don’t know how bad I’m feeling until I’m reduced to a blubbering mess, like just know.” You admitted. “That’s why, eventually, things were too much and I just ran off.”

“What caused it today?” Din asked, curiously. You saw no trace of judgement or a desire to pry in those eyes.

“Well, I tend to struggle with social situations, meeting new people and new environments. And also, sensory overload, when things are too bright and noisy… it makes me panic.” You admitted, fiddling nervously with the hem of the shirt that you had dressed in that had failed miserably at keeping you cool. “It was just… everything today. And I didn’t know how to say it or make you aware because you didn’t know and you might think I was ungrateful. I know how much you were looking forward to this, how much you spent on giving me the best experience. I wanted to have a good time but I just… I couldn’t…”

“Oh, cyar’ika. I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve been struggling. I can see how a busy, noisy pod race with all the sounds and people would be awful for you. Plus the fireworks display you had no idea about… Boonta Eve was probably not the best place to bring you. Nor was it wise to introduce you to someone new, especially someone as loud as Peli.” Din said, shaking his head although he was upset for himself. “And all that, somewhere unfamiliar… on a planet you’ve never been to. It’s amazing, really, that you coped as well as you did, for so long today. I'm proud of you.”

“Thank you, Din. But please don’t feel bad, you didn’t know. I should’ve told you sooner… but I was scared to.” You admitted sheepishly.

“Scared?” Din questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I just….” You took a deep breath. It was difficult for you to talk about the unfortunate reactions you had been exposed to in the past. “There have been plenty of people who have not accepted my diagnosis, told me I didn’t look autistic or that it can’t be that bad. People just… they don’t understand. I was scared you’d think I was weird, that you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

“Oh, cyar’ika.” Din said, shuffling to sit next to you so he could wrap his arm around your shoulder and bring you into him protectively. “I would never think that of you. I can’t imagine how much it would hurt to feel so misunderstood and struggle with so many things that others find easy. I must admit, I don’t always notice lights and noises like others do, behind my helmet. It sort of creates a barrier between me and the rest of the galaxy. If I had to face the world in the same way you do, bearing my face… I would probably struggle too.”

“You would?” You questioned in amazement. Usually, you doubted how much people could understand, but with Din, there was utter sincerity there. He was noble and always true to his word, sometimes to the point of putting himself in precarious positions, you did not doubt him for a second.

“I would,” Din nodded. “Plus, as for the weird thing. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but when you met me I told you I was part of a Creed that meant I could never show you my face. Not only that, but I had adopted a son who was older than me. So, you know, I’m also surprised you didn’t leave me. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the galaxy.”

You laughed at that, so hard that your sides were hurting. Din soon joined you and the cave was soon filled with something other than tortured sobs. It was a welcome change for your body to be hurting rather than something other than pain and terror, for there to be warmth spreading once again in your chest.

“Good point,” You admitted. “You are pretty weird.”

“But seriously, if you ever feel yourself struggling like that again, please tell me,” Din said, suddenly looking at you seriously. “You know, if there’s anything I can do, I’ll help you. Now that I know, I can look for things that might cause you distress. I promise I’ll never put you through anything you don’t want to do. You said that today must have cost a lot and that’s true, but you know credits don’t matter as much as you do. Your happiness is my only priority… along with Grogu’s, of course.”

“Thank you, Din.” You whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

The truth was, you would never be able to thank him with words. To have someone so understanding of you… it was a debt you felt that you would never be able to repay. But Din would never ask you to repay anything.

“Just continue being yourself, cyar’ika.” Din said, squeezing you to him. “I fell in love with you because you are who you are, this changes nothing. In fact, it makes me admire you and love you even more.”

"Really?" You asked.

"Really. From now until the end... I'm by your side." Din said, solemnly.

You sat there stunned, letting his words wash over you. They were a balm to your soul, the exact thing you needed to hear. You wondered how you had ever doubted Din's faithfulness and honourability. It seemed stupid now, that you could ever believe this man would want nothing but your absolute happiness.

"Ready to head to the lodgings?" Din asked after a few more minutes had passed.

"Let's go." You nodded, accepting Din's hand as he pulled you to your feet.

As you made your way to the lodgings Din had arranged for you that night, your hand in his, you felt as though an incredible weight had been lifted from your shoulders. He had finally learnt the truth about you and the reasons why you struggled sometimes, there was nothing to hide anymore. And he had not responded with judgement or dismissiveness, nor had he doubted how much you had struggled. He had listened, allowed you to explain and vowed to help you through it in the future.

Din's helmet was back on now, but you felt a new respect for him. To know that he found it comforting, that he liked wearing it... most people would think it was an intense personal sacrifice to wear something so restrictive, but now that you knew that Din actually found solace in his helmet, with its tinted visor and the way it made noises quieter… perhaps you would think about the steps it took to become Mandalorian.

But all those questions could be answered later. For now, it was just you and the man you loved most in the galaxy, a man who knew everything about you and still loved you as much as he had before.

You weren’t sure what you had ever done to deserve such a kind, good man... but you weren’t about to question the way the galaxy had brought you together. You were just happy that your paths had crossed at all.

A few days later, back at your cabin on Nevarro, you awoke in the middle of the night to find that the side of the cot normally occupied by your favourite Mandalorian was empty. You momentarily panicked when you sat up with a start and saw that Din was nowhere to be found. You placed your hand on the sheets on his side of the cot and discovered they were still faintly warm. He couldn’t have gone far. Perhaps he was with Grogu, the little boy might have had a nightmare. But as you made your way into the hallway of the small cabin, you noticed a faint light coming from the main living area of the cabin.

As you crept down the corridor, not wanting to disturb Din, you noticed that he was sitting at the small desk in the living area. Illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp, you could see his curly dark hair resting on the desk. You worried for a moment until you heard the comfortingly familiar sound of his shallow, even breaths which indicated that he had fallen asleep. As you looked even closer, you noticed that there was something open on the desk. Your curiosity got the better of you as you wandered over there to see what he had been up to before he had fallen asleep with a lamp still on. A lamp that you turned off and shut the book that was sitting just above his hand, his hand resting next to it. And then you noticed the golden writing on the red cover and your heart skipped a beat.

It read, in Aurebesh: How to Support Your Autistic Loved One

You felt a lump in your throat and tears pool in your eyes. Before you could react further, Din stirred. The sound of the book shutting with a thud had caused him to stir, his brown eyes fluttered open and he turned to look up at you.

“Hi, sleepyhead.” You said, teasingly.

“Hi,” Din said, wiping his eyes.

“Doing some late-night reading?” You asked with a smirk, nodding at the book.

“Oh…” Din said, turning his head to look down at the book too. “I got it from the archives here. I just wanted to know how to help you.”

“You’re so sweet, Din.” You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, cyar’ika.” Din smiled at you, his eyes looking at you adoringly. “Let’s head back to our cot.”

As you fell asleep, your cheek resting on the warm, firm expanse of Din’s broad chest, you felt certain that you were the luckiest person in the entire galaxy. There was no one that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You had not travelled far, but you knew that you could travel the galaxy many times and never meet another person as understanding as Din Djarin.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to… because he was all yours. From now until the end.

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #autistic reader #autistic representation #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #really thank you if you interacted with the post I made the other day bc this wouldn't have come to me without that :')#i loved writing this so much it was very cathartic #also my first time posting a fic to tumblr like this lol so i hope it was okay ??? ive never used anything other than ao3 #good god its almost 2am i need to drink water and SLEEP #my fics

98 notes · View notes

educatedsimps · 5 months ago

Text

— "best brother ever!" tiktok trend with hq men

≪ back to fics masterlist

hq character x gn!reader

a/n: just some more crack filled headcanons while i churn out the rest of the requests 🫡 saw a vid of someone doing this and i was thinking of how the hq characters would react to it LOL hope you enjoyy

cw: fluff, humour, swearing oops, mild suggestiveness towards the end ?

The trend:

"Babe, come 'ere!"

Curious, your boyfriend stepped into the living room where you had your camera set up on a tripod pointing towards you. When he reached your side, you pointed at the camera and explained, "We're gonna do a tiktok trend so just stand here, okay?"

He nodded, before smiling a little and waving at the camera.

Grabbing onto his waist protectively, you spoke to the camera. "If you wanna get to him, you're gonna have to get through me first."

Then you leaned up and kissed him on the lips. He smiled into the kiss, happily kissing you back. Pulling away, you gave him a side hug and turned to the camera, dropping the bomb with a shit eating grin on your face.

"Best brother ever!!"

The reaction:

atsumu and oikawa would scream. and i mean scream. like they're in a horror movie or smth "AYO WHAT THE FUCK???" with all the dramatic facial expressions and hand gestures like bro shut up my eardrums are gonna explode 💀

tanaka, nishinoya and bokuto are the slow processors. they'd just keep smiling and would only get it right before you stop the video. he's HORRIFIED and whipping his head at you like "WHAT DID YOU SAYYY" you cannot stop laughing and poor guy's probably traumatised.

kageyama, hinata and ushijima would be confused. like "why'd you say that? i'm not your brother" or even better, "you don't have a brother" and you'll be looking at the camera like jim from the office like does he not get it ?? 😭💀

akaashi and shirabu would stand there staring at you with the most incredulous look on his face. he'd lowkey be judging you and be like "wHat..." sorry babe it's just a prank 🥰

semi would choke on his laughter and shove you away saying stfu but he'd be laughing about it and he'd probably help you post it afterwards. this man is so... HAHAHAHA i love him 😂

sakusa would also shove you away saying stfu but he's lunging to grab the phone so you can't post it (you'll still post it anyway LOL)

tsukki is all three of the above. would look at you with the MOST JUDGY face on earth before shoving you out of the camera frame saying stfu

kenma, osamu and suna would have the most DISGUSTED look on his face and you can't help but laugh at how his face is scrunched up and pinched together

kita would have the most disappointed look on his face like you'd honestly regret doing the tiktok (it's still funny tho. 10/10 would post)

iwaizumi would freeze, slowly turn to you and stare at you with the same face he made when oikawa asked him "iwa-chan, are you my mom?" HAHAHAHSJHJVF GOODBYE

daichi and suga would be like "bruh". nothing else. just pure "bruh" 😐

matsukawa, hanamaki and kuroo WOULD GO ALONG WITH IT HAHAHAHA "yeah best lil sis/bro ever" AND THEN KISS YOU ON CAMERA AGAIN, EVEN DEEPER THIS TIME 💀 then you'd collapse laughing together

tendō would turn his head, look at you with a loving smile and say "what the fuck did you just say?"

asahi would not know how to respond so he's just standing there looking between you and the camera like "huh..."

futakuchi "this ain't alabama, babe..."

extra thoughts!

after you record all that, iwaizumi and akaashi (he a freaky one 👀) will smirk, smack ur ass and say "best little sibling ever" before kissing u deep 🫶 do what you will with that information

also if tsukki was in a good mood, he'd prolly play along but in the most sarcastic way possible HAHAHA like "yeah, best little sibling ever" before kissing you out of frame lol

#educated.simps #haikyuu x reader #lyssa.writes #simps.write #yves. edits #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma x reader #hq #hinata x reader #kageyama x reader #hq x reader

900 notes · View notes

luvergirl-866 · 17 days ago

Text

something like love

part - 1

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.1k

c/w - language

a/n - hi!! i am so so excited to be posting my first ever pazzi fic (and also my first post on tumblr!) she’s a cute little fake-dating rom-com for yall, and i hope you enjoy reading it as much i enjoyed writing it! updates will probably be inconsistent but im gonna do my best lol. lmk what yall think!! (edit: side note, this is obviously all fiction! i’m sure paige’s mom and step-dad are perfectly good people irl, lol)

“Will you go out with me?”

When Paige asks this question during their weekly lunch date, Azzi is so taken aback that she almost chokes on her Chipotle.

“Shit, you good?” Paige asks, concerned, handing Azzi a napkin to cough into.

Azzi waves her off, swallows, and croaks, “What?”

“Hm?” Paige is staring at her nonchalantly, like she didn’t just ask what Azzi heard her ask. “Oh, that. Yeah, will you?”

“I don’t—“ Azzi shakes her head. Is she being messed with? It feels a lot like she’s being messed with. “Paige, you’re my best friend.”

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t know you…had, like, feelings for me.”

“Huh? No!” Wide-eyed, Paige shakes her head violently. “No, ‘course I don’t.”

Azzi’s stomach clenches—not in the good way it sometimes does around Paige—and she thinks Paige could’ve bothered to sound less disgusted by the notion of her having feelings for Azzi. “Funny, P.”

“I’m for real.”

Azzi frowns. “Actually?” Paige nods and Azzi wrinkles her brow, confused. “So you wanna go out with me but you don’t feel…like that about me.”

“Were you even listening earlier?” Paige playfully rolls her eyes, sitting all casually in her seat with her legs spread like she has the biggest dick on campus. Azzi usually loves it when she sits like that, but now she’s too annoyed and confused to appreciate it. “I was talking about my mom.”

“Oh.” To be fair, Azzi stopped listening a while ago, when Paige was still talking about the hot electrician that fixed her leaky sink the other day. She wasn’t aware the conversation had taken a more serious tone. “Sorry, I spaced. What were you saying?”

“I was saying she and her fuckass husband invited me home for a few weeks this summer…” Paige waits, but it doesn’t ring any bells, so she sighs and continues. “They told me to bring Josh.”

Azzi scrunches her nose. “Eww, why?”

“Because…I haven’t really, like, you know…” Paige tips her head to the side, “told them we ended things.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs.

“I know! I know. Just, I dunno.” Paige sighs, and Azzi knows she’s trying to act chill about it even though she likely laid awake last night thinking about it. “It’s hard, y’know? They’re not like my dad’s side, they’re not like your parents. You know what they did after I told them…” Paige glances surreptitiously around the restaurant, even though they’re far away from campus and not very likely to be recognized, “everything. And if I told them about Josh and they suspected something, I don’t think they’d let me see Ryan and Lauren again.” Her eyes are wide, now, and she’s doing that thing she does when she gets mad, pinching her bottom lip between her fingers.

Paige and Josh were never actually a thing, by the way. Paige doesn’t swing that way and she’s known it for a long time. But she came out to her mom over the new year, and that phone call had ended in a seething Paige at Azzi’s door, yelling and cursing while Azzi listened, and a broken one in her bed that night, crying herself to sleep while Azzi stroked her hair.

So a couple months later Paige recruited their closeted gay friend, Josh. And they became each other’s beards, pleasing her mom enough that she could stay in contact with her younger siblings. That is, until Josh found a nice boyfriend and Paige was left hanging.

Azzi tries to come up with something to say, something comforting, but she’s not sure there is anything to say.

“And I hate them for that,” Paige goes on. “But as long as Ryan and Lauren are still kids, my parents can still keep them from me. And it sucks they’re holding that over my head but there’s not a lot I can do about it.”

Azzi offers a sad little smile, letting her silence urge Paige to go on, even though she can tell it’s hard for her.

“So, anyway,” Paige sighs, sitting back in her seat, “when Josh ended it, I didn’t wanna tell them, because I knew the calls would stop coming, the support. And so whenever they asked about him, I’d be all, oh, yeah, he’s doing great, just busy. Just bullshitting my way through it.”

“And you’ve been doing this for the past two months?”

“Umm…” Paige looks down at her fingers, counting on them, then furrows her eyebrows. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Okay…” Azzi leans forward on her elbows. “So how does your weird question come into all this?”

“Don’t say no right away,” Paige says, giving her this knowing look she hates.

Azzi narrows her eyes at her. “We’ll see.”

Paige reaches over to whack her and misses. “Lemme explain, damn. So, when they called me last night and invited me to come home with Josh, I was like, oh, shit. And I thought of ways I could handle it.”

“Uh-huh…” Azzi watches with wary eyes as Paige bends to rummage through her book bag. “Paige, tell me you’re not—”

“Let me introduce you to…” Paige keys up her laptop and then turns the screen toward Azzi with a wide smile, “Boom!”

“Oh my fucking god.” Azzi buries her head in her hands.

“No, bro, listen! It’s lowkey impressive!” Paige taps the screen. “It’s titled Game Plan for my Summer Visit to my Fuckass Parents, featuring Azzi Fudd. By Paige Bueckers.”

“Good Lord,” Azzi says, taking a peek at the PowerPoint in front of her. When has Paige ever gone to such lengths as to create a PowerPoint before? This must really be serious to her.

“So, listen carefully.” Paige taps the screen again; it changes from the title slide to one labeled ‘First (and worst) Option’. “I put the worst part because it’s true, but it’s also a lil rhyming moment.”

“Right, okay. Just keep going, please.”

“So, this is the first option that came to mind,” Paige starts, glancing down at the screen. “This is the option where I ghost my parents and refuse to come see them at all.” She taps the screen to a pros and cons slide. “As you can see, I mostly only came up with cons.”

“Yeah, because it’s a terrible idea.”

“I know. So then we have option two.” The next slide is labeled ‘Option Two (mid)’. “I put the mid part because—“

“I get it.”

Paige shoots her a look. Azzi playfully kicks her under the table. “Go on.”

“Okay.” Paige nudges Azzi’s foot with her own, but her attention is back to the laptop. “This is the scenario where I let my parents think that Josh and I are still together by telling them that I can come to Montana, but that Josh can’t. It’d be pretty easy, and as you can see here…” she clicks the screen, “there’s an even ratio of pros to cons.”

Azzi nods sagely. Sometimes, her best friend takes a while to get to the point, and Azzi learned a long time ago that waiting it out is the best way to go.

“But there is this one big con: I can’t keep lying to my parents forever. So this option is pretty much a way to procrastinate on telling them the truth. Which takes us to the last option.”

This slide is titled ‘Third Option (THE BEST)’ along with a few muscle emojis tacked to the end. A headache forms at the base of Azzi’s skull.

“This is where my awesome idea comes in.” Paige gives her a very self-satisfied smile. “Instead of Josh, I take you with me to Montana and we pretend you’re my girlfriend for two weeks. Literally a genius idea.” She leans back in her seat, nodding assuredly to herself, and Azzi can’t help but smile because she really loves this girl. Despite how bat-shit crazy she is.

“P, I don’t—“

“Hear me out.” Paige clicks to the final slide. This pros and cons list is mostly pros, and Azzi spots many love-emojis sprinkled throughout. “We pretend we’ve been dating since beginning of March. They know you’re my best friend; we’ll pretend that after Josh broke up with me, you and I bonded and fell in love or some shit. My parents won’t be happy, but I’ll already be there with you so they won’t kick me out or nothing.” Paige frowns. “Probably.”

Ok, so, Azzi absolutely hates to admit it, but this does actually make some sense. Not that she’ll ever say such a thing out loud.

“And then they’ll realize we’re totally in love and I’m happy and even if they hate gay shit they just want me to be happy, because I’m their kid.” Paige says this last part less like a fact and more like something she’s trying to convince herself of. Azzi can’t help but feel bad for her.

“Okay,” Azzi says slowly, watching Paige tuck away her laptop. “That’s your plan.”

“Yep.”

“I’m seeing a few plot holes.”

Paige waves her off. “It’ll work. No plan of mine is gonna fail, trust.”

“And why should I help you?”

Paige gives her an easy smile, and Azzi sort of hates how confident she is. “Because I’m your best friend in the whole world and you love me.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow.

“C’mon, Az. What is there to lose?”

Azzi sighs and almost says something stupid like I’m in, but this isn’t just one of those things that she can help Paige with without thinking twice. It’ll be two weeks of torture, pretending to date the girl she’s secretly in love with while being surrounded by her homophobic family, and then having to come home at the end of the two weeks and pretend she never got to experience a glimpse of what it’s like to be with Paige in the way she’s always wanted.

It sounds like hell.

Azzi sighs again, ready to say no, but when she looks up Paige is staring at her with something more vulnerable than before, open in the way she bites her lip, her arm reaching across the table like she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve and waiting for Azzi to take it.

Azzi takes her hand, instinctually, and says, “Okay.”

She is so fucking gone for this girl.

————————————-

They don’t talk about it for two days after that. It’s not that they don’t get the chance, or that they don’t see each other—they go to the gym together both days—it’s just that neither of them seems to have the guts to bring it up. And why should they? It wasn’t too scary while they were having the original conversation—nothing too big or threatening or, god forbid, real—but as soon as Azzi stepped into her dorm after that lunch, she realized just how much she fucked up by saying yes to Paige’s crazy idea.

It would be an understatement to say that talking about it is the last thing Azzi wants to do at this point.

Paige, however, seems to have other plans, as she usually does. When she storms into the living room—where almost every single member of the UConn women’s basketball team is doing homework—she makes a beeline for the seat beside Azzi on the couch and whispers, “Hey.”

Nika leans up from the floor to poke Paige with her pencil. “No chit-chat, we’re working.”

Paige glares. “What, I can’t talk to my best friend?”

“Shh,” hisses Aaliyah, barely pulling her eyes from her laptop.

Paige flips her off even though Aaliyah is too immersed to notice, and then she turns her attention back to Azzi, bumping their knees together. “Can we talk later?”

Azzi pretends to be focused on studying. “Mm. About?”

“About…” Paige glances around furtively, “y’know.”

Yes, Azzi does in fact know, but she really wishes she didn’t. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Paige says sarcastically. “Specifics? Rules? Details? I prepared a whole new PowerPoint.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing the past couple of days.”

“Yeah, turns out I love PowerPoint.”

Azzi finally cautions a glance up, and Paige is looking at her, completely serious. The eye contact seriously messes with her ability to make sound decisions.

“Okay,” Azzi relents. “As long as you’re quiet for the next forty minutes, we can talk.”

Paige, dutifully, doesn’t say a word for the rest of Azzi’s worktime, letting everyone study in peace. And that’s how Azzi ends up in Paige’s bedroom an hour later, perched on the edge of her bed while Paige struggles with her laptop.

“Okay, fuck this,” Paige says after extensive fiddling. “My stupid fucking PowerPoint isn’t loading. What the hell.”

Every bone in Azzi’s body wants to take this as a sign from God, the fact that this PowerPoint isn’t working, that they’re not supposed to do this. She wants to walk out of the room—and this agreement—for good. But Paige is her best friend and Azzi had always been too loyal for her own good, so she sighs and says, “How about we just talk about it? Y’know, like normal people.”

Paige frowns but closes her laptop regardless. “Okay. So.”

“So…”

“First off,” Paige says when Azzi doesn’t continue, “I just felt like I should probably say sorry for dragging you into this.” Paige scratches the back of her neck, always a little awkward when it comes to apologies. “I know it’s a lot to ask for.”

Azzi blinks, startled. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, well…” should she back out? If she were going to, now’s her chance.

Azzi looks down at a scab on her knee. “I mean, that’s okay.”

Paige shifts in her seat, the stool creaking underneath her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had to help with one of your ridiculous plans.” Azzi goes for lighthearted but knows it falls flat under the weight of what she’s going to have to do.

“Okay.” When Azzi looks up, Paige is staring at her suspiciously. She wonders just how bad of an actress she must be for Paige, the same Paige who hasn’t yet detected Azzi’s somewhat obvious, six-years-long crush on her, to see right through her. But then she just shrugs and continues, aloof like she always is. “So then I wanted to ask you about what you think we should do about…all this.”

“…Okay?”

“I was thinking we should get into the, like. The specifics.”

Azzi rolls her eyes. “Paige, just tell me.”

Paige gnaws at her lip until it turns white and Azzi starts to worry it might bleed, but then she says, “We need a sex timeline.”

If Azzi were drinking water, she would have surely spit it out.

“A what?” she asks, sort of incredulous. Paige has said a lot of crazy things before but nothing quite like that.

“Okay, my bad, weird way to put it.” Paige grins as if all of this is funny to her. “What I mean is we need a story to tell my family, our friends. Like, why did we start dating? When was our first kiss? What’s our song? Have we, you know…gone to the penthouse and freaked it?”

Azzi throws herself back onto the bed. Paige’s bed. Which she is just now realizing is probably going to be the bed that many of these fictional events are going to take place in. “Paige.”

Paige is giggling now, which is endearing because Paige doesn’t giggle often. If only it weren’t at Azzi’s expense. “We need to figure it out, for real! People are going to ask questions.”

“People are not going to ask those kinds of questions.”

“Um, excuse me.” Paige stands and walks over until she’s at the bed, pulling Azzi’s legs off the edge playfully. “Have you met our friends? KK’s not shy with that shit.”

Azzi’s ankles instinctively go around the back of Paige’s thighs, but she’s in a certain mindset due to their current conversation and the casual gesture suddenly seems much less innocent than usual. She unwraps them, pulling her legs from Paige’s grasp as discreetly as possible. “So we’re planning on telling them we’re dating, too?”

Paige shrugs. “Yeah. You weren’t?”

“I don’t…” Azzi straightens up as Paige sits beside her, their hips touching. “We spend every day with them, P. Don’t you think it’ll be hard to keep up the act that much?”

“Yeah, probably. But that’s also why I wanna do it.” As usual, Paige sounds completely sure of herself. “We only have a couple weeks until Montana and I wanna make sure we get enough practice acting like a couple.”

Azzi still feels uneasy about the whole thing, but Paige is right—they can’t get onto a plane as best friends and get off it a convincing pair of girlfriends.

Azzi’s face heats at the term. Girlfriends. But that’s what they’ll be, isn’t it?

“I was thinking we’ll tell them next week,” Paige says. “We’ll ask them to hang out and then drop it on them that we’ve been dating since March.” Paige must recognize the look on Azzi’s face, because she puts a hand on her knee—which does absolutely nothing to help. “Is that cool with you?”

Azzi can’t say all of the things she’s thinking right now, so instead she settles for, “Yeah, no.” She pauses, her feet on Paige’s fuzzy carpet, and decides this will be the last time she lets herself doubt this.

“I think that’s perfect.”

————————————

One week later, three Saturdays from the end the school year, Azzi sits with a bowl of popcorn in her lap feeling like she might hurl.

“Why are you acting so weird, Fudd?” KK asks, and Azzi startles at her name, looking at the freshman who’s sitting on the floor in front of her and giving her a weird look.

“Leave her alone, Camera,” Paige says, settling into the couch next to Azzi. “What movie we watching?”

They are all crammed into a dorm, as they often are, excited for a chill team movie night in the midst of finals season. Little do the girls know, they will be getting entertainment from more than just the movie tonight.

“No, KK’s right,” Ice says, scrolling through Netflix on the TV. “Azzi’s been acting super weird.”

Azzi, somewhat offended (she thought her acting skills were pretty decent) looks around the room for help. Instead, the girls all just nod their agreement.

Paige nudges her and raises her eyebrows, and Azzi knows exactly what that look means.

“You don’t have to tell us what’s up if you don’t want,” Inês says from her place on the other side of Azzi, dipping her hand into their shared popcorn. It almost makes Azzi want to back out.

Almost.

Putting on her bravest face, Azzi nods and turns to face their friends. “Paige and I have something we’d like to tell you.”

There’s something odd about the silence that follows this, the way the girls on the floor look at each other before turning their bodies to face the couch, the stragglers sitting in the loveseat and at the dining table leaning forward almost imperceptibly.

Azzi tenses up as she is suddenly under the scrutiny of eleven other girls. How is she going to lie to them? How is this ever going to work?

Paige, through some form of best-friend-telepathy, senses Azzi’s struggle and places a comforting hand on her back. “I can say it.”

This isn’t what they practiced, but Azzi is too grateful and too distracted by the hand on her back to worry about going off-script.

“We’ve been wanting to tell y’all for a while,” Paige says. “But we also wanted to just keep it to ourselves for a little bit.”

It sounds so natural, and effortless, and Azzi can feel herself slipping into this role for the first time. She pretends the hand on her back is more than friendly, the nerves in her stomach are something other than guilt, the things Paige is about to say are true.

If one good thing is going to come out of any of this, it’ll be this feeling of contentment that Azzi will get to have, at least for a little while. And maybe she’s okay with that.

“Do you guys remember that party we went to a couple months ago?” Paige asks. Her nails scratch over Azzi’s shirt, making her shiver.

“Yeah…” Nika says at the table in the corner. Aubrey rests her chin in her palms, looking suspiciously like she’s trying not to smile. For some reason, Ice and KK are clutching each other’s hands.

“Well, when Azzi and I got home we just decided to stay together in her dorm…” Paige trails off like she’s hesitant to continue, and half the girls lean closer to them while the other half look a little too relaxed. Ice is now glaring at KK, who’s…beaming?

“Something happened between us that night.” Paige looks at Azzi now, and even though this is what they were supposed to do the look in her eyes still takes Azzi’s breath for just a moment. She has dreamed of Paige looking at her like this for years, and now it is finally happening, and Azzi thinks she would do anything to make this all real.

Paige opens her mouth to continue, but before she can, KK jumps to her feet and squeals, and Ice throws the remote on the ground with an angry, “Fuck!”

Azzi and Paige both startle, and Azzi loves the way Paige’s hand fists up her shirt in surprise, but then the notices that all the other girls don’t seem surprised or confused at all—rather, they all seem to be having similar reactions to KK. Nika and Aubrey are even singing something, and Inês has jumped up from her spot beside Azzi to join the others in what looks a lot like a celebration. Why are they all chest-bumping each other?

Finally, Azzi finds it in herself to speak. “Guys, what…?”

KK kneels to wrap her arms around a sulking Ice and looks at them both, eyes glimmering. “Whatchu mean, what?”

“I don’t…” Paige releases Azzi’s shirt, her hand falling to the seat behind her. “We haven’t even finished telling you yet.”

“Are y’all actually this dumb?” KK asks, before squealing in Ice’s ear and then throwing herself onto the couple on the couch. “Ugh! I’m so happy for you two lovebirds.”

“Lovebirds…?” Azzi asks, but the room is too raucous for her to be heard and when she looks at Paige, all she gets is an equally confused head shake in return.

“My babies are growing up,” Aubrey says, wiping an invisible tear, and Aaliyah comfortingly pats her shoulder.

“Baby,” Amari says, smiling at the both of them, “we have known.”

“Uh,” Paige says, thrown off for once in her life. “How?”

“Because y’all are the most obvious fucking couple in the country,” Ice chips in. She is still pouting, even with Ayanna patting her on the head and Jana rubbing her shoulders.

During the past week, Paige and Azzi have been dropping a few hints here and there in the hopes that they could almost ease their friends into it before telling them, to make things more believable. But obvious? Obvious enough for all of them to know? That’s a stretch.

Apparently thinking the same thing, Paige laughs awkwardly, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. “We thought we were pretty good at hiding it.”

“Yeah, right.” Caroline flicks Azzi’s forehead good-naturedly. “KK and Ice have had a bet running for, like, six months now.”

At this, Azzi tenses up, and Paige turns to her, gives her a cautious, confused smile. “That long?”

“I started the bet, of course,” KK pipes in. “You two are so in love.” She sighs dreamily and then nudges Ice with her foot. “You owe me my five-hundy, girlypop.”

“You didn’t even actually win, this doesn’t count,” Ice grumbles. “We made the bet six months ago and they only started dating in March. And also, I thought they’d be way too pussy to tell us yet.”

Paige perks up at this, her unusual awkwardness gone as fast as it came. “Hey! I ain’t pussy about nothing!” and KK chimes in with her own protests of, “Girl, boo! It does too still count, you’re just a sore-ass loser!”

Azzi can’t bring herself to say anything, because their teammates believed Azzi and Paige gave been dating longer ago than this arrangement was even brought up. And that means they must have seen Azzi’s feelings for Paige, and whatever the other side of that is, and they don’t really act like a couple, do they?

“Anyway,” Ice continues, a little less pouty now, “I totally thought I’d have to walk in on you two fucking or something before you ever really came clean.”

Azzi squeezes her eyes shut. Paige’s fingernails dig into her back a little bit.

“I actually can’t believe none of us have walked in on them fucking yet,” Nika muses, and the room quiets down a little, everyone mumbling their assent.

“Maybe they’re celibate,” KK reasons, then fixes them with a look. “Are y’all celibate?”

Paige laughs, and then bends close to Azzi’s ear and mutters, “Told you so.”

For the rest of the night, Azzi’s neck is hot.

This might be more complicated than she thought.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #paige buckets #the people's princess #uconn wbb #wbb #wcbb #fake dating #pazzi fics

296 notes · View notes

t-lostinworlds · 4 months ago

Text

Warm Winter & Fiery Frost | B.Barnes [Completed]

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x ex-HYDRA assassin!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: grumpy x grumpy, enemies to lovers-ish, slow burn-ish, angst, fluff-ish

》 SUMMARY: They say opposites attract. You and Bucky were so alike—He was called The Winter Soldier and you were called Frost, for fucks sake—that it's probably the reason why you hated each other. Or was it the denying of powerful feelings in fear of getting hurt? You know, like how the cliché goes. Because you know what they also say: There's a fine line between love and hate.

》 WARNINGS: canon typical violence (blood, guns, combat, etc.), canon divergence, meanness against each other (at the start & that one scene™), emotional constipation! (on both sides. they both need therapy lbr), poorly translated russian prolly, soulmate vibes (not really?), r has bucky at knifepoint quite often (& threatens to kill him), bucky's kink unlocked? (not explored lol), down bad!bucky, r has a backstory, mentions of: past traumas, grooming (no specific ages but it's implied that r was very young), manipulation, experimentation, child trafficking, torture, murder (u know hydra tings), a sweet, happy and open ending (+ if i missed anything pls let me know!)

》 TOTAL WORD COUNT: 29k+ (my longest fic yet)

A/N: i actually started this a year ago??? (according to my doc) which is crazy to me?? bc it feels like i only had this idea for months? where has the time gone. ANYWAYS. first behemoth bucky fic & first fic in a few months so pls be kind ksksks

++ also would like to say that r in this isn't the usual happy-go-lucky, sweet, emotionally capable, sunshine-y person compared to what i typically write but she has her reasons. cold & hardened but mushy on the inside. u know. like our fave supersoldier. they're honestly the same person just different fonts lmao. ANYWAYS,

++ additional note: tumblr has a limit of only 1000 paragraphs (or text block so to speak). the fic itself is 1300 paragraphs so it's waay over the limit. so i decided to cut it into two parts BUT i also posted it on AO3 if you want to read it as a whole already. hope you guys still read and enjoy it! <3

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

PART ONE | PART TWO

or READ ON AO3

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!

© t-lostinworlds, 2024 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

#ww&ff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #sebastian stan #my writing

158 notes · View notes

satangcrush · 1 month ago

Note

not the same anon as before but am also searching for om fanfic scraps

please drop some more author recs 🥹🥹🥹

hi nonnie!!! here are some more (i got tired of typing like half way through so some of them are short in description but i truly recc all of these authors okay!!!! also all sfw unless stated otherwise) <3

@aspiringtrashpanda : my recent discovery and love love her writing so much. do check out her obey me month, as well as her masterlist here

@devildom-dedicated-daydreams : suggestive content; this is just a blog dedicated to one fanfic but i highly recommend if you're into like those manhuas/manhwas with secondary character who gets revenge with a system in place. (brain kinda stopped so just check out their work on tumblr or AO3.)

@leviathans-watching : they have a variety of fandoms, so if ure multifandom, u can check out their pinned post for more. if you're only interested in obey me, you can check out their masterlist!

@demonfamilytherapist : i actually got recommended this account from a reblog on the previous ask but i havent had the time to go through their works. but here is their masterlist for reference <3

@shabootldoo : they write for a multitude of fandoms which you can check out in their pinned post, but if you're only interested in obey me, they specialise in writing for character/character (e.g. Solotan, SoloSim, etc etc)

@once-in-a-blood-moon : love jo's brain and im always having fun reading her thoughts (especially as a solomon enjoyer) and you can check out her sfw masterlist here and nsfw masterlist here

@obeythebutler : rosh has many many works for you to check out from one-shots to headcannons to series! you're in for a ride <3 this is their masterlists here (do note that there is nsfw work here so DNI if ure a minor, thank u)

@eraofkalki : vee doesnt have a masterlist yet but im tagging her works here for you to have easy access - young master, solomon's paradox, cor meum

@elsecrytt (NSFW): they havent written for the obey me fandom in a hot minute but i do come back to their masterlist from time to time to READ

@three-realms-archive : one of the first few blogs that i followed when i made mine <3 they do a variety of content too from oneshots, short snippets, hcs and series! they have quite a bit of work so you'll def have fun checking out their masterlist

@books-and-catears : another one that was recommended in a previous reblog on the last ask. i also havent had much of a chance to check them out but this is their masterlist for reference!

@obae-me : they have some nsfw works but they are tagged as such! they do both HCs as well as longer works here. have fun checking out their works hehehe

@meggs-wonderland : they have a mixture of both NSFW and SFW, so do check it out at your discretion :> this is their masterlist , they also do self-ships if ure interested to check it out!

@zephyrchama : if you love writers who specialises in comedy, they're the one for you. their writing always gets a chuckle out of me and i also want to applaud their effort for revamping their masterlist because theres so many works that they have written so far

@mochatsin : this was also another creator that was recommended in the previous ask and i also havent had the chance to check out their works but this is their masterlist

@denpa-dere : was recommended by @/zephyrchama in the replies, do note that they do both NSFW & SFW content! just binged their house arrest series (NSFW!) in the morning lol. (great read, 10/10 recc) this is their masterlist for reference

@thebellearchives : also recc by @/once-in-a-blood-moon!! this is their masterlist for reference, they have a mix of NSFW and SFW as well as write for JJK and Trigun if you are interested in these fandoms as well :>

here are a variety of other accounts that dont really write fics but i enjoy reading/browsing as well <3

@akuzonprime : the blurbs are very cute and i hope u take the chance to go through their account!

@obeymeinfo : they post character (outfit?) sprites of the characters and its a great place to look at, if you are looking for a particular outfit hehe

@devildom-fashion-week : they archive the character battle outfits and voicelines hehe, if ure ever looking for a particular outfit (to write or draw), highly recommend checking them out

@sheepthatgobaa : highly entertaining art. 10/10 recommend. also your token luke fan. (Familial btw. Do not Perceive Kelo Wrongly.) anyways she does a lot of requests too for fanart and it’s always so funny ehheheheh

@enoe-of-noen : they have a variety of content on their blog, from art, to fic, to hcs to, whatever you are looking for, they most probably have it HAHAH you can check out their pinned post here

@featheredcrowbones : love vy's art so im adding them in too lol but do check out their art tag!!!!!

@marsvlog : so actually im also a fan of mystic messenger and seeing their pinned post of belphie and saeran artwork (made me a little feral but i digress) so if ure a fan of both fandoms, ure in for a treat hehe

@dailyraphael : my daily serotonin for fanart of raphael + bonus of cute artstyle yes

@devildomwriter : theyre a great account to check out, they do quotes, lesson summaries, writing, and a plethora of other things!!! i especially love the obey me cast as cats series that they currently have going on.

@solomams : if youre looking for someone who's dedicated to their ocs + solomon & mammon, look no further because lupe is here to save the day

@yoyvmii : also does fanart for multiple fandoms but her mammon in boothill’s outfit artwork lives in my head rent free yes

@nevvn : was recommended by @/once-in-a-blood-moon in the reblog! love love love their solomon drawings, this is my personal fav from them

@solomiracle : was also rec by @/once-in-a-blood-moon! how could i have forgotten abt this, It's one of the staples of the solomon lover community! also what I love abt them is that they consistently reblog old artworks/works of obey me and its always pleasant seeing these artworks floating around again~

@starry-miki : recc by @/once-in-a-blood-moon!!! i did a customary scroll through the account and omg the marketable plushies artwork is so cute LOL, I also love this solomon artwork of theirs, its so pink and he's so cute lol

@sane-omblog : recc by @/in-the-bushes-miki! another one that I forgot to include lol. anyways love their art style, its so cute and whimsical!! (sidenote, i was rooting for teenage satan to win the poll but the art of baby satan was so cute that I was like yeah nvm)

@susujelly : another one recc by @/in-the-bushes-miki! its my first time seeing the account but the pinned post of solomon as the cat made me lol'ed so hard

@afraidofbee : also recc by @/in-the-bushes-miki! also another one that I forgot to include again lol, love seeing their posts of sheep!MC just absolutely getting up to mischief. and the artstyle is super endearing and this is one of my recent favs from them

+ some others i want to recc but I forgot in my initial post so im adding them as I go (im def forgetting people again lol): @bearakero : only posts about thirteen!! love love seeing fanarts of thirteen and this is my personal fav, just think that u do so much justice to her!

guys my brain died btw

Edit #1: guys wait let me self promo also lol hahahahah um my writing blog is @satanghulu if u wanna check me out 💖 okay fr bye

edit #2: this is the previous post if you are still looking for more writers in the fandom!

#also to the blogs mentioned here; if i inputted something wrong please let me know!!!! (i didnt do a 2nd check before posting this soooo ya #i probably missed people out again but i dont think i can look thru my followings again ! i am tired! ok bye going back to write my fanfic #sorry i lied let me yap a bit more #obey me #satang has a mail!#i went through my entire following list for this op im dying #if anyone else has other reccs; please leave them in the replies or reblogs thank u very much #also i have no one else to recommend because i already went thru my whole following list LOL so if other anons want to ask me... i have nth #to share anymore #thank you very much #byebye

114 notes · View notes

morgana-larkin · 8 months ago

Text

I got a prompt messaged to me from someone who would like to remain anonymous. The prompt is: Ok basically the reader is pregnant and Melissa is super protective. And they are married. Also somehow in the fic Mel got reader pregnant (like magic baby - or something like that)

I really liked the prompt and had a lot of fun writing the fic. So just pretend that Mel can get reader pregnant when she cums inside her. I mean it’s fanfiction, not realistic. Lol. Anyway…it’s basically just under 3000 words of protective and sweet Mel. I’m thinking of maybe writing a part 2 of Mel and reader has parents more since I wrote more of reader being pregnant. Let me know if you would want a part 2. As always, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: On to the Chessy prompts! I would also like to thank my 2 birds for not repeating any words that I said when tumblr glitched while I was posting this and I had to restart it.

Mine

Warnings: smut, so much sweet Mel it’ll warm your heart (I mean it did for me and I wrote it 🫠), a bit of swearing at Mel but it’s funny

Words: 2.9k

Your hands clutch ginger hair as lips suck your nipple and you let out a gasp. The same lips go to your other nipple and sucks on it as well. That mouth is fucking magical with your body and those lips trail a path of kisses up to your lips and kisses you. As the kiss ends, you look up and see the lust in the eyes of your wife Melissa. Melissa is teasing your entrance with your fingers right now and she goes to lick the outer skin of your ear and give little bites and you let out a whine.

“Something you want, Amore Mia?” Melissa whispers seductively in your ear.

“Mel…baby, I need you.” Is all you manage to say.

“I’m right here Amore.” She teases you and pulls back to see your face and you look up and see the smile, the same smile that you love.

“I need you inside of me.” You tell her and she grins.

“As you wish Mia Amore.” She tells you then lines her strap with your entrance and enters you fully. You gasp in pleasure and your wife smiles at you and gives you a second. You nod then she starts moving in and out of you slowly then speeds up. “You’re so beautiful Amore, so fucking beautiful.” She says and you grab her head and pull her down to kiss her. You love it when she compliments you, it’s one of your love languages and she knows it and she loves complimenting you.

Melissa goes to rub your clit as she’s close since the strap is rubbing her clit everytime she moves. “Mel I’m so close…so fucking close.”

“Let go Amore, I’m so close too.” She tells you and that pushes you over the edge as you come with a moan, your wife comes right after and you feel it drip inside of you.

*3 months later*

You make it to the toilet just in time to lift it and throw up as Melissa holds your hair up. Melissa ran after you, knowing you’re experiencing morning sickness again.

“It’s ok Amore, let it all out. Not disappointed at all that our baby is rejecting my food.” She jokes and you laugh then throw up again. Melissa rubs your back soothingly and you lean into her touch. “I’m sorry that you keep having morning sickness everyday.” She tells you with an apologetic smile.

“It’s ok, we wanted to become mothers and I’m happy you got me pregnant.” You tell her and she smiles warmly at you. “I hope they have your hair and eyes.” You add and she laughs.

“Well I hope they have your cute little nose and chin.” She says as she boops your nose and you giggle. “Are you done?” She asks and you nod and flush the toilet. She lets go of your hair and helps you up. She gets you some water, mouthwash and gum to which you accept all gratefully.“We gotta go to work now Amore.” She tells you and you nod.

You both get into the car and she drives you both to school. You both met at Abbott when you started there 6 years ago. She tried to avoid you at first but couldn’t resist your charm and became attracted to you and you couldn’t help but get attracted to her either. She got the courage to ask you out after flirting for 6 months then got married 4 years later.

You both walk into the break room with one of her arms around your waist. “Here, sit down and I’ll make you some tea to hopefully get right of that morning sickness again.” She tells you and you nod.

“Still having morning sickness every day?” Barb asks and you nod.

“That little Tesoro keeps rejecting my food. Starting to wonder if they’re actually mine.” She teases. You give her a look and she smirks at you and giggles. “Here you go Amore.” She says as she hands you the tea and sits down beside you. “You’re starting to show Amore. I still can’t believe we’re having a baby.” She tells you excitedly.

“Well I haven’t had sex with anyone else so it’s obviously yours.” You joke to her and she laughs. From the moment you both found out that you’re pregnant, she vowed to protect you and the little Tesoro at all costs. She already protected you anyways, she’s even punched a guy in the face at a bar when he wouldn’t let you go.

*3 more months later*

“Hey baby.” You ask Melissa as you’re laying in bed and she’s brushing her teeth, getting ready for bed.

“Yes Amore?” She tells you and spits the toothpaste out of her mouth into the sink.

“The little devil is kicking inside me again.” You tell her with a pout and she giggles.

“Give me 2 minutes and I’ll scold them.” She tells you with a laugh.

“I still don’t know why they only listen to you. They’re already favourtising.” You pout and she laughs again.

“Oh hun, don’t worry, they’ll love you as well.” She says as she gets into bed next to you.

“I hope so. I’m the one carrying the devil.” She smiles at you and gives you a kiss on the lips. She then puts her head on your thigh and talks to the baby.

“Little Tesoro, what did I say about kicking mommy?” She says and rubs your belly. As she rubs it, she suddenly feels a kick and jolts up then looks at you then back to the belly then back to you. “Was that a kick?” She says and you nod.

“I’m happy that you finally felt one.” You say. You told her the baby kicked for the first time 2 weeks ago and she pouted as she missed it. She tries to get them to kick again but never catches it. This was the first time. You look at your wife who’s watching your belly and her eyes start to fill with tears. “Oh come here baby.” You tell her and open your arms out to hug her. She moves and puts herself in your arms and rests a hand on your stomach. “Of course they stop kicking me after you talk to them. I was telling them to stop for 5 minutes.” You say and she lets out an airy laugh. “They better listen to me when they’re outside the womb.” You complain and your wife looks at you with a smile.

“I’m sure they will.” She says and kisses you. You could find out the gender at your ultrasound next week but you both want it to be a surprise. “Do you have any ideas for girl names?” She asks and you nod.

“I was thinking Caterina.” You say and she lifts her head and looks at you surprised.

“You want to name the baby after me?” She asks and you nod.

“I remember the meaning of your middle name when you told me. Pure. Which both you and the little one are.” You tell her and her eyes fill up with tears again.

“What about boy names?” She asks as she curls up in your arms again.

“I thought of Luca, meaning…”

“Light.” She finishes for you with a smile.

“Ya, do you have any ideas?” She nods.

“For a boy I was thinking Nico, and for a girl I was thinking Amelia. If it’s a girl and we name her Amelia then you can nickname both of us Mel.” She states proudly and you laugh. “Are you sure you want to go with an Italian name? Cause we don’t have too.” She says and you smile at her.

“I already told you that I want to do an Italian name. I love a lot of Italian names that I saw when looking. Your name is Italian and I love it.” You tell her and she kisses you.

You’ve been getting a lot of attention lately with your belly since you’re 6 months pregnant and a lot of people have been touching your stomach and it’s driving Melissa insane. She keeps giving glares and sometimes actually grabs the hand on your belly and pulling it off. She doesn’t like people, that’s not her, touching you.

She did that with Janine last week. Janine touched your belly but then Melissa came into the break room and saw it. She quickly stood beside you and pushed Janine’s hand off then hugged you and mumbled “mine” while glaring at Janine. A few parents have been doing it too but then quickly stopped when Melissa kept coming beside you with an arm around your waist and glaring at them.

You and Melissa have started building the baby room with a crib, a rocking chair, a little bookshelf with baby books to read to them and a couple stuffed toys.

Every day at lunch, she kept moving a chair over so you can put your feet up and then after a week, the chair suddenly stayed there, you think Melissa had something to do with that. Every morning and afternoon or whenever the halls were busy, she wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you through the hallway of children so you didn’t fall.

Melissa keeps attending to your cravings every day, she always asks what you’re craving tonight before she makes supper. She makes whatever you’re craving for you and sometimes has to make something for herself if she refuses to eat what you’re craving.

“Your cravings are getting worse.” She told you one night and you pout.

“Tell that to the little one, not me.” She laughs and does just that.

“Tesoro, will you start craving some Italian food, your mommy is missing my cooking.” She tells your belly and you giggle.

“I really am.” You say and she smiles and kisses your forehead.

You go on maternity leave a month later and you’re bored out of your mind. Melissa texted you on your first week off at every chance she got and video chatted you on lunch and during her prep period. When she got home she cuddled with you on the couch and nuzzled her head on your chest and talked to your belly while listening to your heartbeat. The first time she heard the baby’s heartbeat she was filled with tears and she got a video of it and plays it all the time.

She helps you up the stairs ever night, she started that when you were 5 months pregnant and she hasn’t stopped. She got you a little shower seat when you couldn’t stand for long without your back hurting too much. Every night she motions for you to lay down between her legs and gives you a small shoulder and neck massage. She’s always careful and makes sure not to push on any point that might send you into early labour. You usually fall asleep between her legs while she massaged you and she quickly became an expert at removing herself and lying down beside you without waking you up.

As for the sex, your sex drive went through the roof when you hit 4 months pregnant and it hasn’t slowed down since. The first day it hit you, you two had sex 4 times, she didn’t complain at all. At least until it happened 5 days straight and you kept waking her up at midnight cause you woke up horny and couldn’t fall back asleep. She’s given you quickies many times in the car before school, during lunch and after school. A few times she’s even done it in school in one of your classrooms as you two both had a prep period at the same time, she had to cover your mouth the entire time. She had to get a vibrator for you that was quiet in case it got really bad and you needed to get off and she was either busy or tired.

It seems the more pregnant you get, the more touchy and protective she gets. She’s next to you as much as possible and always has an arm on or around you somewhere. She wants to cuddle all the time at home while talking to the baby. In public places, like the grocery store, she usually has an arm wrapped around your waist as you push the cart. If you need anything, even small things, like refilling your water bottle, then she’s on in a second.

In your 8th month is when she was full on momma bear. She kept insisting that you stay seated, she went grocery shopping alone or said you had to be in a wheelchair if you came with her (which you stayed in the car every time), she got whatever you needed so you wouldn’t have to stand and got you headphones so you can listen to music if the baby was being a little devil and she wasn’t around. One day you did trip and fall on your stomach and she rushed you to the hospital and they told both of you the baby was fine after checking. And that only made her more protective and you barely stood all day.

One day while she was at work, you felt contractions getting closer and closer together. You thought it was Braxton Hicks contractions since you're only 8 months pregnant but they didn’t stop, you knew you were in labour. You quickly called Melissa to which she immediately threatened Ava to sub for her and rushed home to bring you to the hospital.

The labour was long, it was 10 hours before the little Tesoro was born. You kept swearing and yelling at Melissa, especially when she kept telling you to breathe like you both were shown in parenting classes. Barb was there too, holding your other hand and kept trying not to laugh when you kept yelling at Melissa

“I AM FUCKING BREATHING!” You yelled at her ones. “YOU GOT ME INTO THIS MESS *screams when contraction hits* YOU FUCKING BITCH!” She didn’t take any of it personally.

“That’s it, let it all out, yell at me about anything and call me whatever you want.” She told you when you first started yelling at her. At one point, one contraction got so bad that nothing she was saying was helping so she screamed with you.

When you were pushing, she kept telling you that you’re doing great and to keep pushing.

“I AM FUCKING PUSHING SO FUCK OFF! TELL ME TO PUSH ONE MORE TIME AND I’LL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE!” You yelled at her when you got annoyed.

“And I’ll still love you.” She replied to that and kept holding your hand. You squeezed so hard while pushing that you almost broke her hand, she didn’t complain about it at all. The baby finally came and they said it was a girl. As soon as they brought her to you for skin to skin contact, you named her.

“Hi, little Amelia.” You said and she looked at you and welled up with tears.

“You went with my choice?” She said and you nodded.

She kissed you while the baby was on your chest and Barb took a picture of you all as a family for the first time. After 10 minutes of skin to skin, then you handed Amelia over to Melissa to hold. As soon as the baby was in her arms, she started crying while talking to her daughter for the first time face to face.

“Hi my little Tesoro. So you’re the little trouble maker who kept kicking your mommy.” She joked and you laughed. Melissa looked at her daughter with little ginger hairs and her green eyes with your little nose and chin, just like you both imagined.

“My two Mel’s.” You said to her as she held the baby and she giggled.

You fell asleep after breastfeeding Amelia for the first time, and Melissa stayed awake and held Amelia while sitting in the chair next to your bed. She kept humming or singing some Italian lullabies that she sang to your belly at night when you were pregnant.

Melissa got a month off of work after Amelia was born. Ava had it all set up for her when Melissa requested a month off after the baby was born when you went on maternity leave.

The first month you both kept taking turns when Amelia cried. You had to use the breast pump and a bottle as she was premature and couldn’t suck the milk out of your breasts long enough.

After a month, Melissa had to go back to work and kept calling you and requesting pictures throughout the day. The first day she went back to work, you brought Amelia to see her at work at lunchtime. Although you were a little early and got there a few minutes before lunch and surprised Melissa at her classroom. All her students said “aww” when Melissa held her baby before class ended. At lunchtime she brought you and Amelia to the break room and introduced Amelia to everyone.

Barb held her first, even though she visited a few times in the first month to help you guys get some proper sleep. All of them took turns holding Amelia for a few minutes and then handed her back to Melissa who smiled at her daughter and held your waist.

Barb looked at her best friend and couldn’t be happier for her as she looked the happiest she’s ever been, holding her daughter and her wife at the same time.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

If you want to be added then let me know!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

182 notes · View notes

bokettochild · 11 days ago

Text

🎶For the twelfth day of Christmas, my Ketto gave to me-🎶

Closure!!!!!

So, I've been talking about this for a fair bit now and debating the logistics, and I have decided to do it: A Christmas of Closure!

I have so many unfinished/on hiatus fics, some that never got past the first part, and this is my effort to (1) relieve myself of the guilt of not finishing them and (2) give a bit of closure to the readers who still wanted more from the story.

How does it work? You guys can choose any story of mine that you wanted to see more of, and the first twelve will get a little love this holiday season, with me posting one update every day leading up to Christmas, and ending on Christmas day with either whatever I was most excited to share, or what took me the longest and I needed more time for LOL

They key to this is that it's stories I've already started, so rather than spending half my writing time trying to figure out what it's going to be about, I'll hopefully just be giving words to something that's sat in my brain for the last few months/years. I'll get to share with you what was supposed to happen, while maybe jump-starting my own creative process so maybe (no promises) I'll actually be able to finish the story! (Again, NO promises, but also I hope so!!!)

(Specifics below)

All stories are on the table with the exception of TBBU, since that's already a work in progress and I will get there independently (*she lied, like a liar*). There might be others that have reached their natural end as well, and I'm not up to making zombies, but I can't name any right off, so go nuts and choose whatever you feel has been on life support for too long :)

Whumptober/Sicktember/Febuwhump prompts are up from grabs, but only in the form of continuations of already written pieces. I will not be writing prompts that I failed to post on time in this challenge (maybe another time)

The age of the fic doesn't matter, but be aware I might not be able to capture the same voice as I used to use. My writing style has changed and developed, but I will try and match my own freak when I can.

You CAN ask for specific things! I will not take unkindly to you popping in to say "write an update for story XYZ and maybe have ABC happen?" I can't promise that ABC will happen of course, because maybe that's not what was meant to happen, but I promise to consider any and all suggestions regardless, and try and make a Christmas present that you'll enjoy :)

The stories will get posted starting on the 14th of December and ending on December 25. There will not be an Ao3 collection, but I will have a master-list here on tumblr.

I hope that covers everything, but if you have any questions I didn't answer, please feel free to send an ask, so I can answer publicly, in the case others had the same question <3

#Ketto writes #ketto's writing misadventures #linked universe #linkeduniverse

56 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 5 months ago

Text

A-Z Sherlock Fan Fiction Tropes Bingo

Ahhh, so I saw this Fanfiction Bingo Card by @swissmissing going around, and even though I wasn't ever tagged, I wanted to do some recs of my own because, like, that's my whole brand LOL. I hope no one minds...🙃 I needed to have a list ready for this Sunday, and this was perfect, LOL.

And because I'm always trying to overachieve on these challenges, I'm going to do full black out, BOTH tropes in each square.

This will be a Combination of my read fics and "to read" fics [to fill in spaces I don't have tags for], which I will append the latter with (MFL) just like so, for those of you who only want fics I've personally read. And apologies, I had to remove some of my standard links to fit them all within Tumblr's link limits, so author names aren't clickable AND I've removed all series' links, so be sure to check out other stories by the authors!!

AND FINALLY, this is a rare list that I DON'T have in word-count order, just so y'all know! I hope you guys like the fics I've pick for y'all. Literally random picks from my lists, based on tag searches, LOL.

AU: A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

Amnesia: I Need You To See Me by Mssmithlove (E, 12,625 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Amnesia, Soldier!John) – After going back to war, John is yet again invalided home, this time with a broken ankle and a chunk of his memory missing, unable to recall the last five years he's spent being Sherlock Holmes' partner and husband. Part 9 of Happiness Awaits

BDSM: Lock and Key Series by 221b_hound (E, 59,509+ w. across 14 works || Series WiP || Post-HLV, Tattoos, First Kiss/Time, Anal, Hand Jobs, Captain John, Cuddling, Sherlock's Scars, Possessive Johnlock, Exhibitionism / Voyeurism, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Masturbation, Sherlock in Panties, PWP, Dirty Talk, Sexual Fantasies, Restraints, Photographs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Assorted Kinks, Sherlock in a Sheet, Sex on Furniture, Domestic Fluff) – John has been back at Baker Street for a year, following the debacle that ended in Mary's death. Things are good. Back almost to what they used to be. Sherlock might wish they were something else, now, but he only has himself to blame, he thinks. It's too late, now, for the things he first denied before he'd ruined any chances he might have had. Sherlock also thinks that people who get tattoos are idiots. But perhaps he's about to learn a thing or two, not least of which might be it's not as late as he thinks it is.

Bodyswap: Inexplicable by emmagrant01 (E, 34,664 w., 6 Ch. || Body Swap, TSo3, Magical Realism / Artifacts, Infidelity, Angst) – So what was in that matchbox, anyway? John and Sherlock find out, the hard way.

Crossover: Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Star Trek Fusion || Established Relationship, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

Crack: Fucking Cake by Random_Nexus (E, 12,965 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Humour/Crack, Inanimate Object Smut, Frottage, “For a Case” / “Experiment”, PWP / Kinky, Mutual Pining, Fluff) – Sherlock brings home a chocolate cake, John finds him about to have sex with said cake, then exceedingly weird hijinx ensue. Part 1 of "Fucking Baked Goods" - Sherlock BBC

Domestic: Back to the Start by slashscribe (M, 14,088 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock’s Violin, Pining Idiots, Fluff, Domestics) – Sherlock hasn't played the violin since John's wedding (which is long since over), and when John returns to 221B, Sherlock relearns the violin as he and John relearn each other. Post S3 fic with an obscene amount of pining, idiocy, and attempts to pawn off tea duties.

Disability: Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w., 34 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Established Relationship, Major Character Injury, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis/Disabilities, Hurt/Comfort, POV Sherlock, Mental Health Issues, Drug Use, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it's supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken

Established Relationship: Caught In The Act Series by ShirleyCarlton (E, 9,217 w. across 7 works || Established Relationship, Unintentional Voyeurism, Alternate POVs, Humour, Blow Jobs, Walking in on Someone, Switching, Public Sex) – This is a series of six scenarios written from the points of view of six different people as they accidentally walk in on Sherlock and John having sex.

Enemies to Lovers: Synchronicity by Calais_Reno (T, 46,424 w., 10 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, POV John, Bullying, Coming Out, Forgiveness, Drinking/Bars, Boarding School, Drunk John) – John and Sherlock meet again, years after they were school boys together. John hasn't forgotten why he still hates Sherlock Holmes. (MFL)

Future: Uncharted Territory by J_Baillier (T, 19,603 w., 4 Ch. || Dystopian Future / Black Mirror AU || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Drama, Homophobia, Bisexuality, Technology, Humour, Romance, Near Future, Happy Ending) – The System puts people through a series of assigned relationships in order to determine who their Perfect Match is. John believes that it works; Sherlock really, really doesn't. One of them is probably going to be wrong.

Fluff: A Lifetime Together by LondonGypsy (M, 8,886 w., 1 Ch. || Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Falling in Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Pining Idiots, Alternating POVs, Domestics, Retirement) – John and Sherlock falling in love.

Gen: Octopus by glass_rose_paperweight (G, 705 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Fluff, Bed Sharing, Limpet Sherlock) – A week after Sherlock and John finally get together, and John is finding sharing a bed with Sherlock Holmes to be ... difficult, sometimes. If not downright suffocating.

Genderswap: Cockscomb by birdie7272 (E, 115,302 w., 32 Ch. || Femlock / Gender Swap || Light Dom / Sub, Sensual Play, Cocks, Lace, Safe Words, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Truth or Dare, Slow Burn, Feminism, Relationships, Sexuality Crisis, Cheating, Power Play, Manipulation, Control) – Lace, whiskey, and a case full of cocks leads to a brand new kind of adventure. AKA The One With All The Cocks… When There Are No Cocks (MFL)

Historical: Enigma by khorazir (M, 289,667 w., 23 Ch. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Case Fic, Espionage, Period-Typical Homophobia / Sexism, Pining Sherlock, Inexperienced / Virgin Sherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence) – It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies' encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy. (MFL)

Humour: Equine Arse Anonymity by Kayjaykayme (E, 3,834 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Public Sex, Coming in Pants, Humour, Halloween, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock needs to speak with suspects at a fancy dress ball. He chooses a couple's costume for himself and John. It is logical, practical and well thought out. John doesn't agree and exacts sweet revenge.

Illness: Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst, Promise of Forever) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Imprisonment: THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON by skyefullofstars (T, 110,758 w., 24 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Angst, Violence, Whump, Nightmares, Murder, Drug Addiction, Torture) – While Sherlock grapples with his new-found feelings for John Watson, he faces a very real threat: John's kidnapping and shooting at the hands of James Moriarty. And the knowledge that the love of his life is being used to test an addictive drug - at the risk of John's sanity and life. Prequel to THE BOYS OF BAKER STREET. Part 1 of THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON

Jealousy: The High Tide Series by stardust_made (E, 15,269 w. across 3 works || OMC, Angst, Jealousy, Developing Relationship, First Time, Romance) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, afluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it.

Jilted: Love Is Series by SilentAuror (E, 36,903 w. across 2 works || Post S3, Alternating POV Each Story, Angst, Unrequited Love, Rejection then Reconciliation, Romance, Mary Divorce, Eventual Happy Ending) – At Mrs Hudson's urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him.

Kids: The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w., 23 Ch. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) –Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school's Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

Kink: John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times Series by wendymarlowe (E, 247,051+ w. across 45 works || Series WiP || Short Stories, Assorted Tags with Assorted Genres, PWP) – A collection of short imaginings of how Sherlock and John might finally allow their relationship to become physical. Don't be afraid of the giant cloud of tags - each fic stands alone and you can read them in any order.

Long: Free Falling by twistedthicket1 (M, 203,574 w., 38 Ch. || Guardian Angels AU || Guardian Angel John, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Kidlock / Teenlock, Light Mystrade, Passage of Time, Possessive John, Drug Use / Overdose, Victor Trevor, Graphic Bullying, Big Brother Mycroft, Hard Drug Use, Depression, Possessive Sherlock, Possessive John, Panic Attacks, Nightmares/PTSD, Pining, Healing Abilities, Kidnapping, Violence, Torture, Blow Jobs, Virgin John, Emotional Development / Attachment, Mortality, Happy Ending) – All Guardian angels are born with a Chosen human. When this child is born, the angel comes into being to protect and care for them during their life on Earth. For John Watson, all he cares about in the world revolves around his Chosen, Sherlock Holmes. Watching him grow up though, the angel soon learns that God must have had a sense of humour the day he decided to make Sherlock, as trouble seems to follow him like a magnet wherever he goes. John can't decide what's worse, the idea of losing his Chosen one, or the fact that he may be breaking the most taboo law of heaven as he disguises himself as a human to better protect and befriend the beloved detective he's always watched from afar. He was meant to care for him. But what happens when caring evolves into something more? What happens when an emotion an angel is supposed to be incapable of possessing comes to life suddenly and viciously inside John's chest?

Love Triangle: Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

Magical Realism: The Frost Child by twistedthicket1 (M, 9,994 w., 2 Ch. || Frozen-ish AU || Magical Realism, Christmas, Angst, Fluff, Powerful John) – In a world where people are born with a Gift of varying levels, simple John Watson is the last person one might look at when thinking of any strong Magick capabilities. Hiding comfortably in the shadow of Sherlock's brilliant deducing abilities, John is content to keep it that way...

Major Character Death: I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

NSFW: Caves in the Mountains Are Seldom Unoccupied by starrysummernights & TheMadKatter13 (E, 7,925 w., 1 Ch. || Were-Creatures || Werebear John, Pseudo Bestiality, Rimming, Dub Con, Rough Sex, Come Inflation / Eating, Size Kink, PWP, Bratty Sherlock, Rutting) – “This isn’t something to play at, Sherlock,” he snapped. “If it doesn’t work out- what you’re asking of me- we can’t shrug and say 'oh well, at least we tried'. If we do this… I could seriously hurt you. Do you understand? I could lose control. I could… I could kill you.”

Next Gen.: If Equal Affection Cannot Be by blueink3 (E, 31,156 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Family, Retirement, Grown Up Rosie, Angst, Reunion, Loneliness, Sussex, Fluff, Sexy Times, Happy Ending) – Sherlock fled London a couple of years after John left him in hospital with nothing but an old walking stick and a half-hearted goodbye. Rosie grew up thinking that Sherlock died when he committed suicide in front of her father by jumping from Barts' roof. So it's somewhat awkward when they run into each other in a Sussex general store between the loaves of bread and the Mars bars... (MFL)

Omegaverse: A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,869 w., 26 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Omegaverse / Prime Universe Crossover || OmegaJohn / AlphaSherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dubious Consent, Humour) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?

Only One Bed: The Cure for Snoring by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 1,278 w., 1 Ch. || Sleepy Conversations, Bed Sharing, Cuddling, Fluff, Domestic, Platonic / Sleepy Cuddles) – Sherlock and John spend the night in Scotland after finishing a case. The sole Inn in town only has one room left...one bed. This would be fine - if not a bit awkward - if Sherlock hadn't developed a habit of snoring loudly. John suffers through many hours of sleeplessness before he discovers that skin-to-skin contact stops the noise. Part 1 of Dreamscapes

Parenthood: Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

Platonic: The Green Blade by verityburns (T, 72,929 w., 15 Ch. || Case Fic, Bromance) – As a serial killer hits the headlines, the police are out of their depth and the next victim is out of time. With faith in Sherlock Holmes at an all time low, this is a case which will push loyalties to the limit...

Queer: Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ‘I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’

Quest: Licence to Kiss by fellshish (T, 13,739 w., 4 Ch. || Post-ASIB, Sort-Of Bondlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Angst and Humour, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock loves John, and John loves... James Bond. He only made Sherlock watch every single film. Tedious. And now John's birthday is coming up. Sherlock can't tell him how he feels, but he can organise an amazing gift: John's very own spy adventure. Sherlock begs Mycroft for a real case with some extra gadgets. And perhaps some actors pretending to be criminals. What could possibly go wrong?

Retirement: Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

Road Trip: Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (E, 30,568 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Rel., Road Trips, Slow Burn, Mummy Holmes) – “You love your mother, Sherlock?” John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk. “Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

Soulmates: The Heart On Your Sleeve by flawedamythyst (T, 5,441 w., 1 Ch. || Soulmate AU || Sherlock POV, Heartmarks, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Semi-S1 / S2 Canon Compliant, Reunion) – Sherlock stared at the imperfect circle on his left wrist in horror, then sat down on his bed with a bit of a thump. After over thirty years, his heartmark was finally showing activity. This was not good.

Slow Burn: Tomorrow's Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining, Jealous Sherlock) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

Teen AU: The Sky is Full of Fiddles by agirlsname (T, 25,659 w., 6 Ch. || 1895 Teenlock || Romantic Fluff, Bed Sharing, Swedish Folk Music, Dancing, Sherlock’s Violin, Poetry, Skinny Dipping, Summer Love, First Kiss, Proposals, POV John, Gay Surprise) – It's 1895 in the heart of Swedish folk music and dance. During certain weekends, boys are allowed to visit girls at night, wooing them with fantastical poems. If a girl lets a boy into her room they can share a bed all night, fully clothed, to talk and eat caramels together. John is seventeen and looking for a girl to marry like everyone else. He's very surprised when another boy suddenly stands outside his door, wanting to share his bed… (MFL)

Time Travel: The Engine by stitchy (T, 8,294 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Post-HLV, ASiP Do-Over, Sci-Fi, Time Travel) – Shortly after the events of His Last Vow, Sherlock has an opportunity to revisit the night of A Study in Pink and get some perspective on the destiny of he and John's relationship.

Undercover: The Skin Over My Heart by standbygo (E, 8,849 w., 1 Ch. || Post-Hiatus, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Dog Tags, Military, Homophobia, Gay Bashing, POV First Person Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Undercover, Haircuts, Flashbacks, Touching, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Metaphors, Introspection, Hand Jobs, On the Couch, John’s Past, Angst with Happy Ending) – Sherlock and John are still trying to adjust to Sherlock's return from his hiatus when John's friend Bill Murray brings them a case. Someone is targeting the LGBTQA+ members of Bill's unit. John and Sherlock go undercover at the unit, but when they end up having to flirt to flush out the suspect, Sherlock realizes he's in over his head.

Unrequited: Love Is Series by SilentAuror (E, 36,903 w. across 2 works || Post S3, Alternating POV Each Story, Angst, Unrequited Love, Rejection then Reconciliation, Romance, Mary Divorce, Eventual Happy Ending) – At Mrs Hudson's urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him.

Vampires: Bleed Me Out by antietamfalls (E, 87,987 w., 14 Ch. || Vampire AU || Bonding, Vampire Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Magical Realism) – John isn’t exactly surprised to discover that Sherlock isn't human. His vampirism doesn't pose a problem, even when their relationship gradually grows into something more. That is, until a deadly revelation about John’s blood sends their lives spinning dangerously out of control.

Villain POV: Genesis by pasiphile (M, 19,521 w., 1 Ch. || Graphic Violence, Moriarty’s Past) – Before he was Jim Moriarty, he was just Jimmy, a street kid with more pain in his past and more ambition in his head than he could handle, and only one other person he could bring himself to trust. Part 6 of This Life Is A Trip (When You're Psycho In Love) (MFL)

Whump: Trapped and Upside Down on the M6 by BootsnBlossoms (E, 4,256 w., 1 Ch. || Whump, Car Accident, Hurt / Comfort) – Everything felt wrong. His hair was going the wrong way. His arms were bent in ways he wouldn’t choose to bend them. His neck hurt and he couldn’t really feel his toes. Something was dripping on his face – and rolling up. A car crash. He had been in a car crash.

Werewolves: John Watson’s Moon by patternofdefiance (E, 11,314 w., 1 Ch. || Supernatural Creatures || Werewolf John, First Time, BAMF John, First Time, Anal, Fleeting Depictions of Violence) – Sherlock finds out John is a werewolf and wants to see the transformation. It, uh, gets really kinky.

Xenomorphism: Forest King by Elphen (E, 141,856 w., 27 Ch. || Magical Realism / Omegaverse AU || Mythical Creatures, Group Sex, Body Worship, Drinking / Impairment, Dubious Consent, Anal Fingering/Sex, Transformations / Shapeshifting, Mpreg, BAMF John, Possessive Sherlock, Celtic Mythology, Paganism, Sherlock’s Violin, Frottage, Illnesses, Caring Sherlock, Netherworld/Underworld, Coping Mechanisms, Paternal Lestrade, Defensive John, Big Brother Mycroft, Insecurity, Self-Esteem Issues, Misunderstandings, Mild Jealousy, Pregnant Sex, Male Lactation, Birthing, Emotional Support, Parenthood, Family History) – After falling out with his sister, John ends up in a Cornwall Midsummer’s Eve celebration in the middle of a forest that’s rather…different. After the hazy night of magic and passion with a pale-eyed man, he goes home to London. He’s in for a surprise when his stomach starts growing and buds appears on his head. Not one to just accept things, he returns to Cornwall to demand an explanation. When he meets the forest king, Sherlock, again, he has to come to terms with not only what’s happened to him but what kind of magical world he’s been thrust into. Plus, there’s the questions of whether he trusts the antlered man and how he'll survive being apparently pregnant. Sherlock isn’t much help. That doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to somehow make John understand his feelings, however, even if he’s greatly hampered by being Sherlock. They slowly move forward but problems beyond their control may arise from an act done with the best of intentions. How will they cope, separately and together? (MFL)

Xmas: Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness', and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts' now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Zombies: The Hollow Ones by antietamfalls (M, 100,244 w., 23 Ch. || Walking Dead Fusion || Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Build, Emotional Constipation, Protective John, Hurt/Comfort) – The dead walk. Mangled corpses of the deceased rise and mindlessly feast upon the flesh of the living. John wakes up, alone and confused, into the remnants of a city gone mad. He will search for answers. He will find Sherlock at any cost. And he will learn that the living are far more dangerous than the dead. (MFL)

Zoomorphism: How to Build a Heart out of Ashes by Teumessian (E, 144,931 w., 31 Ch. || Changeling AU || Slow Burn, Drug Use, Mentions of Child Abuse / Bullying, Mentions of Student/Teacher Relations, Uni-Age) – In an AU where a small number of the population become Changelings at a young age, at 17 John Watson believes he's destined for Normal life but then the Change takes him and he is sent to the Baker Institute. There he meets Sherlock Holmes.

#johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #fic rec bingo #a to z fic recs #long post #fic rec sunday

100 notes · View notes

natalieispunk · 2 months ago

Text

BABY, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: an unforeseen snow storm leads you and joel to find refuge in a cabin in the woods.

warnings: nothing explicit, just hurt/comfort surrounding grief but if i have missed anything potentially triggering let me know

notes: this is my first fic here, and i've been procrastinating because i'm so nervous about posting here LMFAO. i feel like tumblr fics are held to a certain standard although i thought i'd shoot my shot anyways because you never know.. lowercase is intended. written with a no ellie au in mind, but is up to interpretation. joel and reader's relationship is also up to interpretation, but is implied to be romantic/considerably close because of joel's vulnerability lol. dividers by @/saradika-graphics

the wind howled beyond the rickety windows of the cabin, rattling the glass in its place as frost blurred the outside view of snow and wind locked within dance.

whilst the cabin had proved to be acceptable, by no means was it liveable. wood rotted, creaking with every step as the stairs threatened to give in at any slight pressure put upon them. much like you, and joel. it'd been a shining light amidst the forest as you stumbled and plodded through the thickened wilderness- had you stayed out there any longer, the hope wouldn't have been as sufficient any longer. it'd proved to be the one thing keeping you going, the hope of finding somewhere safe, somewhere liveable. somewhere you could live in congruity.

"found these." the texan drawl pulled you from your thoughts, and as you looked over your shoulder, the imposing frame of joel met your eye. in his arms were a few blankets. fraying, but you couldn't afford to be picky anymore. you'd already wrapped yourself up in the blanket stuffed into your pack, but joel didn't seem all that satisfied. and honestly, you weren't either.

he stepped closer, his boots thumping lightly against the floor before his arms were extending in a silent offer. take a blanket, keep warm. it was endearing, although oftentimes you found yourself yearning for more than his silent care. you wished for words, for touches.

"thank you." your reply was quiet, but it didn't seem to bother him so much. instead, he gave an incoherent grumble and a nod, turning back to his own spot by the weathered couch. "should be quiet tonight." he observed, surveying his surroundings in silence. his gaze flickered down to his lap, and you watched. "i can take watch, just in case." you heard yourself offer. joel frowned.

somehow, your memories of meeting joel were always faint. with how much you found yourself to be borderline treasuring him, someone would think that you would remember everything down to time. it had been through tess, back when all he had been to you was the unsettling shadow looming over the woman, back before you got to know him. it had been the small things that drew you to him. that furrowed brow, the subconscious glances to his broken watch, or the self assured gait he carried himself with. despite everything, he was never one to open up. yet somehow, you felt as if you knew him like clockwork.

then again, maybe tess had too.

"no. don't worry 'bout it." joel murmured. "y'need rest. been a tough few days out there. this storm ain't gonna help." he sighed. it wasn't a lie. supplies had been low ever since you had left the qz in the dust. compared to whatever this is, that place might've even been cushy. now it was real- it was raw survival, scrounging for supplies in places you wouldn't have ever imagined yourself. some of it was perhaps humbling, but it was necessary.

you subconsciously mimicked him, a frown on your lips as you stared towards him. "you need rest, too. you've been.. i don't know, weird." he didn't seem to take kindly to it, and he huffed. "y'don't know what you're talkin' about." he grumbled, eyeing you from beneath his brow. "y'just won't do it right." there was an almost playful lilt to his tone, as if he didn't quite want to take you seriously. as if he was avoiding something.

"stop that."

"stop what?"

"that. avoiding things." you stand, arms folded over your chest as you peer down to him. somehow, he looked.. pathetic. not rudely, but just so tiredly pathetic. the way those brown puppy eyes met yours, how he seemed so sheepish about your calling out. it almost made you that bit more frustrated with him. he didn't take himself into account, and that hurt you, too. he deserved more than what he gave himself.

"it's just.. this, joel. you doing everything, i'm- i don't wanna feel useless. like you're.. babying me. i can do shit." you frowned. joel kept to his silence, and after a few long, suffocating moments, he spoke. "i ain't babyin' you, darlin'." it was silent for another moment, and you could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he sat there, figuring what he should say next. what he could say next. "y'get nightmares, don't ya?" he mumbled, and with hesitance, you nodded.

it wasn't rare for joel to be vulnerable. to open up like this. not anymore, at least. ever since tess, it seemed to be the tip of the iceberg for him. there was a certain level of empathy between you as your gazes met, the silence between you twisting itself into something more comfortable, understanding. it was joel's turn to mimic you, and he nodded. "yeah. yeah, i know y'do." he whispered. "i get 'em. of sarah, tess." he began. "i lost 'em, an' i coulda done somethin' to save 'em but i just- jus' stayed there. didn't do nothin'."

you felt your gaze soften. it felt as if you weren't controlling yourself as you sat down alongside him, a heap of limbs leant against the couch as your eyes focused on his face. he wasn't looking at you, but that was okay. he needed this. "an' i don't wanna lose you, neither." he finished. the tremble in this voice was there. something about seeing such a strongly portrayed man so vulnerable beside you, it made your chest twist in a way you'd never felt before.

with understanding, you nodded. trying to understand was hard. you had both lost people, but somehow there was that silence understanding that you wouldn't understand just what the other had went through. and again, that was okay. because despite that, you still had each other, and you were there now. he was there now. it was okay. "i know, joel." you whispered. "but y'won't lose me. i'm here."

the relief in him was palpable as his shoulders slumped, as if it was what he needed to hear. that you were there with him, that you would be there with him. with a shaken exhale he nodded, and he had never looked so weary. so exhausted. your lips twitched downwards into a frown as he glanced sideways to you, and your hand reached out to find his jaw.

"go to sleep, joel."

"i'll be here."

WELL thank u for reading i am so nervous to post this. the ending is awkward because i didn't wanna drag it on, especially for my first post. depending on the response i may post again, or turn this into a potential series? i'm not sure, but thank you guys for taking the time to read :)

word count: 1070

taglist: tba, please let me know if you would like to be added!

#˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ nat's writings #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #ppcu #fanfiction #fanfic

49 notes · View notes

r4izx · 5 months ago

Text

Blooming flowers, Wilting love

lyney x g/n reader!

6,212 words and 33,475 characters

summary: lyney feels love when he sees you. but he feels itchy in his throat when he also sees you. he sometimes cough up petals as well... is this love?

warnings: mentions of blood, slight cursing (one curse word lol)

a/n: as i was writing this, i saw a tumblr post all about their love-hate relationship with hanahaki disease fanfics. it made me pause and go like, ʘ‿ʘ oh.

this is my longest fic so far but also...!!! one of my least favorites as i wrote this during a writer's block. •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀ nevertheless, hope you still enjoy!

"do you think we'd stay together, forever, yn?"

you and lyney were gazing at the sea that time. staring at the constellations, counting the stars, you think you won't ever forget that moment. the sound of the waves, the wind's breeze, it was so... peaceful for the lives of two fatui members. but his question was a bit abrupt, you think. especially for someone like you who thinks it's pointless to believe in such thoughts.

"there's no such thing as forever, lyney." it's the truth you think. nothing in this world lasts forever. that's why it's better to cherish the things you have now while you still can. this was your point of view of the world. for you the world had limits. you always thought that in the end, everyone will die anyway. so you didn't meddle yourself with beliefs about 'forever'. although... "-but i don't think i can live without you, all, beside me, lyney." you, of course, was referring to him and his siblings. you know how much lyney loves his family. after all, they're the only ones he has left to take care of in his life. compared to you who has no one, he had a responsibility.

lyney loves his family more than himself. from when you were kids staying at house of the hearth, you watched how much he cares for them. to the point where he'd sacrifice himself if he needed to. just for the sake of his family. and just like lyney, you cherish your family a lot. although not connected by blood, you view lyney, lynette, and freminet as your family. you've been together since childhood, you all grew up together, what else could they be but family?

what else?, you say?

contrary to your view of the three as family, lyney views you more than that. at first, he didn't know what he was feeling. he didn't know when it all began either. he just remembers when he started to think about you everytime you weren't there, everytime you weren't by his side. everytime you were with someone else. all of a sudden he started to feel jealous when he sees you with someone else. but it quickly goes away when you go to him at the end of the day. you were always there for him. lyney often bottled up his feelings. he had no one to vent to. it would be awkward to talk to father about it and he doesn't want to burden his siblings with his worries. but he has you. you were there to comfort him. at moments where he was at his lowest, you were just... there. he was sure you didn't learn any magic tricks, how come you always surprise him by being there when he needed someone? as if you knew what he was feeling. but still, he isn't complaining. at this point, he couldn't go by a day without you and he felt reassured, ..you cherish him more than anyone else, you feel that you have a duty to protect him, ..just like family! you are his family. that's all it is, ..-right?

but if that was the case, then... lyney thinks why doesn't he feel the same way towards his siblings, his family. he never got jealous when lynette and freminet was with someone else, no. he never relied on somone this much and felt comforted just by their presence. and sure enough, lyney was sure about his feelings for you. his love for you. and no, not love for family way but more like... a romantic way. he was sure of it when he noticed the fact that his temperature rises slightly when you both make contact. when you make cheesy remarks not knowing what it does to him cause you just view him as family. he felt butterflies in his stomach. and lyney thinks that this is what romantic love felt. it felt warm. it felt like he found a bonfire in a cold, snowy mountain. that fire was the only thing keeping him alive. it made him feel safe, warm and...

itchy?

is love supposed to irritate you like this? it started with an itch. lyney has been feeling itchy in his throat ever since he figured out his feelings for you. it was so irritating and annoying he wanted to take his throat out but he couldn't. he doesn't know what it is, he doesn't know anything at all. it's his first time loving someone in a way that's more than love for family, after all. so he goes to a doctor since he couldn't tell anyone about this. not father, not his siblings, and not even you. he doesn't have the courage yet. the doctor began examining him. asking him all kinds of questions. when did you start feeling the itch? are you able to eat properly? and... did you do anything that triggered it? well, that question definitely triggered something in his memories. and all of a sudden, he started coughing. his throat stated to ache unbearably. he couldn't breathe, he felt his airway being blocked no matter how hard he tried. it was a good choice to go to the doctor earlier, the doctor quickly moved to help lyney breathe. slowly, the coughing was going down but lyney's throat was getting itchier and itchier. he couldn't take it anymore. he coughed up whatever was making him feel that way despite the immense pain. to say that he was shocked was an understatement.

blood.

and...

..petals..

lyney wasn't stupid. he's heard of this before. he heard it a long time ago. when someone's love doesn't get reciprocated, they start to grow flowers in their lungs and cough up petals. he heard it when he was younger and thought it was stupid. that whoever was in love was stupid. clearly they were gonna die because of love, so why do they still continue? it wasn't even love for family. but now that he's older, lyney thinks he understands now. it doesn't make him any smarter for understanding though, rather he thinks that maybe he is stupid. he became the person who he thought was dumb for continuing to love someone despite that being the reason for why they're hurting so much. but how could he ever stop? he thinks that if he stops loving you his heart would as well. you made him feel safe, warm, comforted and... loved. he trusted you so much that it scared him how easily you could hurt him. but still, he won't stop. how could he when he can't even imagine a life without you?

the doctor explained to him in detail. how people only get this disease when they're love is unrequited and the fact that it was so rare to get it but he still did. he didn't know if he was lucky or not. although the doctor did tell him there was a way to remove the flowers though, it was basically a cure. he could get surgery in exchange for his memories. he would have to forget all about you. and so... "What! NO!" lyney couldn't help but shout out of surprise and annoyance. was this doctor crazy? do they think a person would want to forget someone they love? the thought of not remembering you sends lyney shivers down his spine. he can't even imagine forgetting all those memories. when you both went sparring together, got lost during a mission, when you wiped his tears when he couldn't keep his emotions to himself anymore, and even when you both first got taken in at the orphanage. it scares him. he doesn't want to forget you. so he never will.

the doctor just chuckled, fortunately they understood and gave some 'advice'.

"then, you better tell 'em what you feel soon. take the chance while you still can. you don't possibly think that you would live forever, right? ahaha..-"

forever.

"...there's no such thing as forever, lyney."

that memory suddenly popped into his mind. is this what you meant? that death will await for us in the end anyway? it's not like you were wrong though.. you were right. there's no forever in this world. but the doctor was also right. he should go ahead and tell you how he feels soon. he just needs to muster up the courage and confess!.. but how could he? how could he have the courage when he sees the way you look at him?

lyney always felt something odd about you everytime that tangerine head harbinger passed by. he sees the way your breath slightly hitches. the way you'd steal secret glances at him, the way your eyes glimmer for a bit when you see him, the way you turn your head to hide your reddening face.

he hated it.

he hated the fact that you liked someone else when he's right beside you and has always been right there since childhood. but what he hated even more is the fact that he pays so much attention to you. he'd notice things about you that he was sure you probably didn't know about yourself. you never acted this way around him... does he even have a chance? how can he possibly confess to you at this state? he feels his throat ache even more now. breathing felt more of a curse than a cause to live at this point. everytime he inhaled, he could feel petals going up his throat. truly, his time is limited now and he has to do something before it's too late.

by now, you've probably noticed that something was wrong with lyney. when he sees you, instead of usually greeting you with a bright smile and a hug, he just smiles, sends a wave, or even worse- he just nods at you! he barely talked you don't get what you did wrong so it was getting slightly annoying.

scratch that-- it was REALLY annoying.

you both finally met again after a busy week cause of father's orders at fontaine. it was a fatui meeting. everyone had to attend. you were glad cause that meant you would be able to see your family-- lyney, lynette, and freminet of course, --and also see lord childe. the harbringer who you oh so look up to. well, okay, maybe it's more than just admiration.

you like him.

you like that ginger head.

maybe it was because of the stupid smile on his face whenever he made you laugh, maybe it was because of the fact that you felt safe around him, or maybe it was simply because he was outgoing that he ended up stealing your attention. you didn't expect yourself to be the type to fall for someone really quickly, but you got to know him for a few months in a mission together and you... really liked him. he didn't just steal your attention, he stole your heart as well. although, you had no one to talk to about this and you don't think you would actually tell it to someone.

so here you are, at the fatui meeting, waiting for the harbringers to finish their speeches when it finally ended. originally, you took this meeting as an opportunity for you to catch up with your family. but it seems that lyney

had the same intentions when you feel a tap on your shoulder. you turn around and face him. you almost couldn't control the smile on your face when you remember that he's been acting differently towards you the past few weeks. you quickly compose yourself and speak to him with a stern look.

"don't you think you have something to say to me?" you cross your arms and stare at him, waiting for him to speak up. lyney suddenly mutters something incoherent, he sounded as if he couldn't form words probably in his mouth. the only thing you understood was his almost incomprehensible "wa--t--r. wah-... ter!!". for a moment, you were really worried. you've never seen lyney in such state before. you grabbed the nearest bottle you could and gave it to him as he takes a deep breathe and clears his throat. "well,... where, do i, begin?"

"oh ho, from the very beginning. lyney. we haven't seen eachother for so long, i can spare some time for you." despite your sharp tone, the sweet smile on your face was quite unsettling. oh boy, he's doomed. you were gonna scold him. you always did this. from when you both were a child, you always scolded lyney when he did some outrageous things like hurting himself just to rescue a cat stuck on a tree. you scolded him for a while that time. you were quite protective. after all, it's your duty as his family.

lyney tells you that he was feeling unwell and couldn't speak properly these past few weeks which explains the situation earlier with the water. "--but why didn't you tell me anything!?" that's right. why didn't he tell you anything? the lyney who always relied on you, who felt safe and comforted when he vented his feelings to you was now the same lyney who started acting a bit distant and different. when did he change so much? you just don't get it. did you really do something that he didn't like for him to be like this with you? he seemed fine with others which made you even more concerned. but before you could finish worrying, --lyney interrupts.

"..y/n.. i have something to tell you, okay?"

what's this? all of a sudden the atmosphere changed. it was gloomy yet felt somewhat reassuring. you didn't know what was gonna happen next. what is he gonna say? why is he being so serious? is he gonna drop some big news? why can't you understand him at all right now? and why is the 11th fatui harbringer approaching you? wait-- what?

"y/n!! so you were here!~" the ginger head was approaching you with that same stupid smile on his face again. you couldn't control yourself from slightly blushing. you could feel your ears reddening a bit as you try and look away from him. you cover your mouth to hide the fact that your mouth is slightly raised upward as you turn away from childe's direction as an attempt to hide from his gaze only for you to catch a short glimpse of lyney's expression.

you don't get it. you don't understand at all what that look on his face was. you, who's one of lyney's closest companions, someone who he could consider as family, for the first time was unable to know what lyney felt. he's been hiding too much stuff from you these days. he hasn't been opening up to you. you can't help but worry that he might be bottling up his feelings again and doesn't have anyone to vent to. but the thing is... lyney always went to you. he would go to you and you would comfort him. so why isn't he?... 'don't tell me.. that, he lost his trust in me?' the thought sent a shiver down your spine. you quickly looked at lyney's face again, only to see him gently smiling. was that just a trick of your eye? you were sure it wasn't. you look at his odd smile. unlike what a smile should do, it didn't reassure you at all. it made you worry even more. you really can't read him. he looks sad yet happy. he has a solemn face yet it felt as if it was filled with so much guilt. unfortunately, your thoughts was cut off when the man whom you liked stands before you.

"i've been looking for you everywhere! i'm hosting an after party with some of my companions, wanna join us?" childe asks you when he finally noticed lyney and continued, "--oh, and, you could invite your friend over there too." you glance at lyney who heard the offer. he understands that you're trying to ask him if he wants to attend. so, he looks at you with that unsettling smile again. "y-ou- ...you should go.. y/n, i'm.. fine.." he clears his throat mid sentence. he wasn't fine at all. his throat is so itchy, he feels that his lungs is about to burst, his chest feels heavy, his airway feels blocked and he feels that something is going up his throat and he's trying so desperately to hold it in. but there's only so much a person could handle. but... in the first place, lyney was a person who had no one he could rely on, who he could vent to except for you. but he can't bear it. he can't bear the sight of you with that tangerine. he thinks he really won't be able to handle this hanahaki disease thing. and for some reason, seeing you so in love with someone else hurt him more than the flowers threatening to spill from his body.

so he gathers some remaining strength to tug at your sleeve when you were about to leave with childe. he grabs your hand, flipping it to the side of your palm and does a little magic trick. he takes his hat, rummages through a bunch of items in it until he finally stops and grabs something. he grabs it and closes his hand and places it on top of your open palm. when he finally opens his fist, he then revealed a flower. a rainbow rose, to be exact. before you could even say something, lyney just nudges your hand a bit as a sign for you to just go already. you hadn't even left when he himself took the initiative and faced the opposite direction and left in a hurry. you didn't know why he was rushing you and himself so much. and at this point, you don't what your efforts to talk to him was all about when in the end, he just leaves. without leaving a word behind.

childe takes your hand in his and that was all it took for you to snap out of your daze. your heart instantly started beating faster. you think he might even be able to hear your heart pounding so loudly right now. was it because of the fact that he's holding you? the fact the he came all this way just to invite you? and that he was looking for you, and only you? or maybe it was because of a certain flower you were holding in your other hand. on one side, you were holding childe, and on the other, was a rainbow rose.

'a rainbow rose, huh.'

lyney couldn't sleep that day. nor could he breathe. nor could he eat, speak, and think properly. his heart felt like bursting. maybe it really was. when he saw the way you light up when childe came, he was hit with an arrow of reality through his lungs. suddenly the air around him felt warm. but not the type of warmth your presence gives him, rather... it felt suffocating. he felt like throwing up. he was doing all he could to keeo himself from vomiting. he really was. it was the hardest battle he has ever done. a battle between him and his own feelings. there is a saying that one's greatest enemy is theirselves and in this battle, lyney thinks he's at the losing end. when he left you there after giving the rainbow rose, he felt his heart throb in pain. he saw the look on your face. a face full of confusion, worry, and a small hint of happiness. at that moment, he just wanted to chase after you, hug you and never let you go. yet..., all he could do was send a small smile. a smile filled with mixed feelings, a smile you wouldn't be able to understand, even if you tried. lyney himself doesn't understand what he feels too. jealousy? anger? happiness? relief? sad? he didn't know! but one thing for sure was that he felt like he was...

about to die.

he immediately went to the nearest secluded place he could go to. making sure nobody, was around. and after all his efforts to not throw up, he started vomiting. blood. it was so bloody. not even enemies has hurt him to this point, yet... his own feelings did this. and lyney thinks again, 'is love supposed to feel like this?' he wanted to blame you, blame you for not returning his feelings and put him to such a miserable state like this, but he couldn't. cause he knew it was his fault. it was his fault for falling for someone who only views him as family. and if he wanted to he could just take surgery and forget about you! --but he won't. he's sure that forgetting you will hurt even more than this disease.

the downpour of blood and petals wasn't stopping. he was starting to choke on the petals. his throat was hurting, so, so badly. it was aching, it was itching. he wanted to scratch it out of him and just end his suffering. especially when something really rough went up his throat. it even got stuck there. he was coughing and coughing, trying to vomit it out. he was having such a difficult type to breathe and aside from petals and blood, even tears was spilling out from him. he was dying yet living. and so, he spitted it out. a flower. no, flowers. such beautiful flowers came out tainted with blood. at first, he didn't recognize what flowers it was because it was painted red from the blood, but he looked really closely and...

rainbow roses.

he scoffed, really? these, again? was teyvat making fun of him right now? cause it sure feels like it. the rainbow roses that was supposed to be filled with a bunch of colors was now just red. for some reason, that color reminded him of his fate. and so, he kept that rose.

lynette and freminet has caught on to lyney at this point. they started wondering what was wrong with him when they saw that he's been having too much so-called bathroom breaks, --especially, when you're around. they noticed how lyney's breath slightly hitched when he sees you, they noticed the fact that he now tends to avoid your gaze rather than look up to you and stare at your eyes as if he saw something beyond it like before. at first, they just watched. they waited, and they observed. just like in their missions. they knew for a fact that lyney won't open up his problems to his own siblings. which is why he always relied on you, opening up to you. you were his source of fresh air. in a place where he felt suffocated and had nowhere to go to, you were there. so surely, if lyney didn't want to tell them, they just have to wait, ...but if it takes too long and progressively gets worse, they have no choice but to interrogate him.

it's been a few weeks since lyney has been acting strange and there was no sign of him telling the truth to lynette and freminet. they were growing impatient to their brother's antics. they aren't usually this bothered but when it comes to health, they have to step in no matter what. family comes first and their brother showed them that. which is why, it's totally valid to do this right now because it's out of love and concern, ...right? lynette and freminet decided to follow lyney when he needed a bathroom break. they followed as lyney goes to a secluded area instead where no could see or hear him, which was perfect for them. --and almost immediately when lyney got there, he started throwing up.

how can they explain what they're feeling right now? watching their own brother suffer, vomiting blood and petals. their heart dropped. it felt like it. the world froze around them, only lyney was moving as if the time stopped. all this time... lyney was suffering this much and didn't tell anyone...? they couldn't help but think he was greedy, for not wanting to burden others but himself. they couldn't make a sound. they needed to be... patient. --like how they were trained and taught to be by their very own brother. tears were starting to blur their vision when the sound of raspy coughs kept on going as it becomes even more rougher than the last one. patience.., they both think to themselves. --but only when they heard their brother utter a name did they lose it.

"...y-/n--..."

blood, petals, and the way he acted around you. everything seemed connected somehow. it all cleared up. and it was so obvious that lyney was suffering an unrequited love. but they had to confirm it. their patience? gone. lynette and freminet look at eachother and nods, a signal saying 'go' as they rush towards lyney's side. just as they went beside him, lyney collapses to the ground, although still conscious. the other two immediately went to support him and lyney finally looks at them. he looks them in the eye and send a sheepish smile as if saying, 'don't get mad'. but how? how could they not? they wanted to scold lyney, scold him for keeping all his problems to himself, scold him for doing nothing and bearing the pain all this time, scold him for liking someone who only sees him as family and of course, ...scold him for continuing to love you despite everything.

lynette says it first, despite the cracks and sniffles between her words she still says, "brother--!!.. wh-..why don't you just.. get surgery and forget them?..". and lyney is shooked. how did they know who he really liked? was he.. "..so obvious.." freminet continues his thoughts. now, lyney couldn't hold back his tears anymore. he started crying. it wasn't about you, -no. he cried because after a long time again, he could open up. he could breathe again, although he knows not for long. literally. so he thinks he has to say everything now before he loses the chance. he has to explain everything to lynette, to freminet, and of course, to you..

"..--c--can't.." he can't. he can't forget you. why did everyone think this way? the doctor and even lynette. he wanted to tell lyney that he would rather lose his vision than forget you. he would rather duel with father than forget you, he would rather bear this pain than forget you. he would rather lose his life.. than forget you. he wanted to say all this to his siblings but he can't. he couldn't even imagine a life where he doesn't know how to utter your name. the thought scared him. to him, a life without you was a life without a home. no safe place. he wouldn't be able to breathe. most importantly he couldn't stop thinking about what you would feel if he forgets you. how ironic though, he doesn't even think about what you would feel if you found out that he's suffering all because of his feelings for you.

once, twice, thrice, it kept going on. petals enough to make flower crowns surged from lyney's throat. and now freminet speaks up, "--p-please, ..just, tell y/n what you feel..". ah, that's right. another cure for this disease aside from the surgery was to be loved right back. but he knows it's impossible so he just shakes his head in response. "h-he's telling you to confess..!, --n-not to get your feelings returned.." "stop being so stubborn!" freminet adds. for once, lyney let his siblings scold him, after all it's a first, and perhaps even the last time this would occur. the thought made lyney cry. salty tears came flowing down his eyes along with blood and flowers from his mouth. it was mostly because he thinks that sooner or later he'll end up leaving his loved ones behind, both his family, and you.

a week had passed and his disease showed no signs of getting better, only getting worse as time passed. it was the same thing over and over again except for the fact that he has his siblings to help and rely on now. but then again, nothing would change if he doesn't tell you what he feels, that's why he's been preparing himself. for the entire week ever since lynette and freminet found out about his condition, he's been taking a break from missions with the excuse that he got a severe injury from a recent battle. which lead to him to being stuck in his room for the whole week, unable to see anyone aside from his siblings and father. nobody raised suspicions about him faking his condition, after all, he did look like he was suffering. but during that period of time, he didn't need to control his vomiting which helped him, ... sorta..? anyway, it simply meant that he's ready.

ready to tell you what he truly feels before it's too late,

...or not..

"i'm confessing to childe soon.."

hah...

...-ahahaHah"--ahaHahaha..--"

lyney couldn't help but laugh. should he have just stayed in his room for a couple more weeks? he laughed. watching your amused yet confused expression, you're probably thinking 'what's wrong with him?' and he laughs even more! he was laughing so hard tears started forming in his eyes, atleast, he thinks it's because of that. it was a bittersweet laugh. he starts to ponder, 'maybe i should've just gotten surgery..' but he smacks his head with his palm. that's right. his hat nearly tumbles off his head.

"lyney-?! what's wrong? -you.. okay..?"

you probably questioned if he was okay because he was still smiling and chuckling. "-pfft. i was just so enamoured by your eagerness to confess! ahaha-!!" contrary to him, that is. it took him so long, to build up the courage to tell you his feelings, and now he just feels like running away. he starts to feel that sooner or later tears won't be the only thing pouring out of him again. he may be chuckling right now but his mind is

it took a while for lyney to calm down again, while you were stressing over what's going on. why was he being like this? he's acting weird, again. the lyney who opened up his heart to you before is long gone now. replaced with unreadable expressions and held back words. you knew, something was off. enamoured? really? something was off about lyney in a way he was only like this towards you. but no matter what you do, you can't seem to remember anything you might have done to put him in such state. you might be a bit oblivious but you aren't stupid. yet, you still can't pin point why he's like this.

lyney interrupts your thoughts. he clears his throat and with a shaky voice, he asks,

"y-you... you're confessing, today?"

hm?

why would lyney be so curious about your confession? maybe he's curious as a friend just like others would be, but, something smells fishy. lyney isn't the type of person to be so caught up on topics like these, as far as you know. so, what's up with him now?

"..yeah, later. ..he invited me to go to on a mission with me. it's these little acts of him that make me so heads over heels for him." and that was all it took for lyney's courage to vanish. all bark yet no bite. you who was once his home, a person he could confide in, where he could breathe and feel safe, is now the reason why he is unable to breathe. he's inhaling, yes, --yet he feels that he can't exhale anymore. just endlessly gasping for air.

-fuck. he has to do this. he knows it himself, --that it isn't long before he has to go. he has to. -no, he needs to. he needs to confess. lyney takes a long, deep breath and finally let out some air. he looks at you, --you who's blushing so meekly, fiddling with your fingers like a teenager texting their crush, only for him to remember that it's all because you're thinking about him. someone else.

"y/n... y-you know, you're really special to me right, i just wanna know if you feel the same.. do you love me too?" maybe lyney should've made it clear, --or maybe he shouldn't have asked because- "--of course i do, lyney.. were family okay? always remember that." oh he is for sure gonna remember that. until his last breath most likely.

at this point he just had to go. "i-i see, well- y/n, I'll get going, goodluck!" lyney is rushing to get out of here, his heart his thumping so fast but the butterflies he feels is in his throat, he needs to go, -as soon as possible. just as he turns around to leave you immediately say something, "-lyney! wait-". and he gulps, but doesn't turn around to look at you. there was a short pause until you continued, "i want you to know that you're special to me, okay? you're one of my closest friends.., family-, even, ...just wanted to say this so you know.. goodluck! stay safe! let's watch the waves again next time, when we have time. see you!"

that time never comes.

he can sense that you're waving but he doesn't wave back. you hear his footsteps and watch as he leaves. something was wrong with lyney today so you wanted to reassure him. albeit it was just an inkling.

liquid trails on the ground as lyney walk-runs. he doesn't know whether it's from the tears running down his face or the blood pouring out of his mouth. maybe a mix of both. the trail leads to an room that served as a dormitory for the fatuis, but fortunately for him, it was empty. unlike his mind that was full of thoughts and his heart full of emotions. he couldn't stop thinking about what you said. sure, you may have said that he's special and all but what he heard was the word friend. a reminder that he'll never be more to you than that.

maybe it was just him.

maybe he was the only one who felt like his day is complete when he sees you. maybe he was the only one who thought that you were eachother's back. but now he feels as if he's the only one watching your back as you take a step forward while he's just there, watching you. maybe he was the only one who thought he had a chance. considering you were childhood friends and all. fuck- friends. it was right there all along. you both were childhood friends, nothing more, nothing less. this was his destiny. but for once he wants to stray from the path towards this so called destiny and it leads him to this current situation.

flowers.

there's no point in holding back now. he really feels like he's reaching the end of the path he's walking. he lets it all out, coughing up different kinds of flowers. heliotropes, chrysanthemums, rainbow roses... this time it's not just petals anymore, it's full on blooming flowers coated in red.

everything hurts.

his throat, his lungs, his heart... even his mind! he can't take it anymore yet for some reason his mind starts drifting back to the memories he and you had together. these memories felt like home. the sound of waves crashing onto the land, the sound of his heart beating along, and the sound of your comforting voice. for a split second he felt like the pain he was feeling eased for a bit, but he was brought back to reality when he realizes that these moments are really just memories, ...and will forever stay like that. he will no longer be able to be with you again, no longer have the ability to make more moments like these. and it dawns on him,

his friends, his family, the fatui, childe, father, and... you. his life flashes before his eyes. and he didn't even realize it but he was shedding no tears. weird but, maybe this was just too much pain for him to even process. he feels his body weakening, his legs barely able to stand makes him fall onto his knees. the way he starts to feel dizzy and his vision is blurred-- even without tears in his eyes. the way he feels like something pierced through his stomach, his heart-, even. he knows, his time is up.

lyney wishes he could say his last words, but he isn't able to. so he just says it in his mind,

...thank you,

and that was his final words. to you, to his siblings, to everyone.

he falls down the ground, and with all the strength he could muster, he tries to open his eyes, ...only to see a rainbow rose. the rose he kept. though, it wasn't covered in red anymore, and it was fresh. it was blooming.

then lyney smiles,

maybe there was forever in this world, but it was just... not meant for lyney.

67 notes · View notes

gallavichthings · 11 months ago

Text

It's time!

How would you all like 21 22 fics on the 21st 22nd of December?

The Gallavich Masquerade Ball 2023 is now open! Grab a glass of champagne or anything else you'd prefer, some hors d'oeuvres, and choose your (first) dance partner for the night!

You can check all the fics in our AO3 collection or on this post, after the cut. A list of all authors with links to their profiles is also included. This post is pinned so you can check it whenever you want.

And here's the link for the form where you can put your guesses. It's only one form for all the fics, so please wait to submit your guesses only after you've read them all.

Here's the updated point system:

Points for readers: Correct guess on first choice: 5 points. Correct guess on second choice: 2 points. Incorrect guess: lose 1 point. (Please note that you only lose 1 point per story, even if you guess incorrectly on both choices.)

Points for writers: If someone correctly guesses your fic (regardless of in the first or second choice): 1 point. If someone wrongfully guesses your fic: 3 points.

Leaving kudos and comments is allowed and appreciated! Writers are also allowed to answer, but it's up to them whether to already do it or wait until everyone's identity is revealed so as not to give anything away accidentally. Oh, and if you want to post something about the fics here on Tumblr but can't tag them, I can serve as buffer for now lol.

Oh, and the surprise? The winners will get some great fanart, courtesy of the talented @doshiart! Isn't that awesome?! 🥂

Cheers!

Keep reading to get a list of all the fics with their summaries and word count, as well as a list of all the authors, with links to their AO3 profiles.

FICS:

AITA? (2,072)

AITA? My new clients (29M and 31M) threatened me and I want to fire them. I know that’s not official therapist speak. TLDR; I want to encourage them to have healthier boundaries and find a new therapist, but until then, what do I do?

Attitude adjustment (4,483)

Post-canon Ian and Mickey figure out some relationship issues. That includes insults, (play-)fighting, more insults, and orgasms. Or: Mickey is having an attitude. Thank god Ian knows exactly what to do.

Black Charcoal meets Fiery Red (1,838)

Ian poses in a life drawing class. A straight forward job, if not for the guy with the blue eyes who can't stop staring at him.

Carnival (3,136)

Ian and Mickey spend the evening at a carnival... "Ian locked the car’s door, and put his arms around Mickey��s shoulders, as they walked towards the carnival. He had brought the leaflet home a few days ago, wiggling the colorful sketch of a carousel and the outdated font under Mickey’s nose with some hopeful glee. Mickey had protested for habit sake, but had caved in pretty easily..."

Five Dates with Brad f*cking Pitt (4,269)

Sometimes things may not be what they seem. Especially when there are assholes around who add fuel to the fire just for the sake of a fucking joke.

Groceries (2,260)

A routine trip to the store turns into a trip down memory lane.

The Guardians (4,879)

3,000 years ago, they had to join forces to defeat an evil sorcerer. Now, the sorcerer was back, and more powerful than ever. Could they defeat him for good?

i'll find a new place to be from (5,947)

They stand in silence for a couple beats, unspoken words lingering above their heads. The cig in his hand has long burned out and Ian resists the temptation to light up another, and another. He feels his mouth open, and close, then open again–but nothing comes out. Time’s up. "See you inside, Red," Mickey finally says before pushing the door open, and Ian remembers how to breathe.

Infused Attraction (3,434)

Mickey has to receive Iron infusions. Ian is a student nurse who is assisting the other nurses with the infusion. Mickey is interested in the redhead. Ian is seemingly interested in him too. Let's see how it goes!

Italy (I Trust And Love You) (3,183)

"Ian closed his eyes and ran a hand through his damp hair. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. Took a deep breath, as if to steal himself for some monumental task, and walked off down the sidewalk. The rain made quick work of drenching him. Ian didn’t seem to notice. In the dirt beneath the tree, drawn in crude blocky letters made with the toe of his boot: I + M." OR A story mostly told through Debbie's eyes during world war two, as she worries for all her brothers, but particularly the one sent home much before the rest.

Jump To Recipe (5,977)

Hiring Mickey Milkovich - Freelance Photographer to shoot the photos for his food blog was the best move Ian’s ever made. Mickey’s a fantastic shot, plus he’s committed to the success of Ian’s blog. (He’s fucking hot, too. But that’s just an added bonus.) And the best thing about him, is that in all the ways he’s professional behind the camera, he’s refreshingly unprofessional to Ian’s face. Which means when he comes around, Ian always knows he’s in for a good laugh, intriguing conversation, and an ego boost - Mickey never shy about how much he loves Ian’s food when they dig in after the shoot. Ian’s made chocolate lava cake today. But when extra time leads to their at-home appointment going way off script - Mickey wanting to update Ian’s headshots, but with a twist - who will the spicier photos leave wanting more, the “housewife army” from his blog’s comment section, or Ian and Mickey?

A Lot (4,245)

What could have happened if Ian had told Mickey that he was worried about going to Mexico with him?

The man in the van (2,141)

“Suppose I should thank you for the compliment then,” Ian teases, smirking a little. The guy snorts. “Don’t mention it, Red. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He proceeds to shamelessly check Ian out again, licking the corner of his mouth as he does. or Ian Gallagher wouldn't mind some excitement in his life. Enter one Mickey Milkovich, ready to oblige.

ole red (5,596)

Mickey is out of prison and walking the straight and narrow with help of his cheering section, P.O. Larry . It’s hard being tough in a pastel polo and dad shorts. Old Army is just a paycheck until he meets the assistant manager, Ian. Finally he figures out Ian was Mandy’s Ian from their teen years. Mickey is attracted to the redhead but is still closeted. Ian responds to Mickey lashing out by revealing he knows Mickey’s secret. Mickey decides to be brave and the reward , huge 😈

The Reason to Exist (4,851)

lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: can you stop stealing my loot lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: this team only needs 1 sharpshooter anyway 😐 mm1234567890 [18:23]: shut up u f** lieutenantcolonel [18:23]: WHAT

Red Hot (4,364)

Ian's workday has been shitty... but his afternoon might just be very different. Thanks to his favorite nephew and a certain mouthy and opinionated stall owner at the winter farmer's market.

A Salute Before We Sink (4,601)

The world will end tomorrow. Ian's only chance at survival is to earn a spot in an underground bunker. One man stands in his way.

Snowballs and Sneaking Out (2,441)

Mickey shows up to the Gallagher House in the middle of the night with a surprise for Ian.

So drunk on you (3,878)

"Then Mickey launches himself into quite a detailed account of the previous evening and there goes Ian’s sanity. He’s learned over the months to hone his selective hearing. That is, he’s not tuning Mickey out completely but he’s trained his brain to gloss over the facts that fall under the TMI category and focus on the highlights. Again, for the sake of his sanity. Because the thing is, he’s so gone on Mickey it’s actually embarrassing. And he’s been gone pretty much from the very beginning." Just another friends-to-lovers story.

Span the Distance, Bridge the Border (4,988)

Ian and Mickey are happy, living on the West Side and adjusting to life as husbands in their new apartment. Things are going well, really well, until one day Mickey’s brothers show up. And God only knows what they could possibly want.

weight of the world (3,360)

Mickey thought he was fucked for life and that he’d never see his mom again. Turns out he was wrong about both of those things.

Wonderful- a Gallavich Christmas Mini-fic (5,030)

In which Mickey learns the reason for the season or How the Mick gained Christmas.

AUTHORS:

Blodeuwedd

Calli_Writes

Captain_Jowl

energie_vie

Gallabitch73

gallawitch

Gembu

GrandSelfMythology

IanGalagher

JuliaKay

lingy910y

MissSnowwhitepink

mmmichyyy

My_Brain_Melted

NotHereNJ

Rayrayor

sam_writes_fics

Suzy_Queue

sweet_perversion

Sweetbee78

whatthebodygraspsnot

whatyouandihave

#Gallavich #Ian x Mickey #Shameless #Shameless US #Gallavich fanfiction #Gallavich Masquerade 2023 #Events #Mod post #now updated

170 notes · View notes

spurious · 6 months ago

Note

what was the moment where you said yes to McShep?

OKAY SO.

Obviously you, audioletter my beloved wife know all this but. I’m not sure I’ve talked about how I got into SGA/mcshep on my tumblr so.

After finishing the x-files in 2022, my wife’s Zaddy Husband Mitch Pileggi beckoned us to watch Stargate Atlantis (because we couldn’t stomach Walker Texas Ranger). We’ve both been in fandom for a Long Time and thus remembered the years that McShep reigned supreme, and starting the show we said to each other “haha wouldn’t it be funny if we became ride-or-die mcshep shippers?”

……..yeah.

From the very start of the show, basically every single time John and Rodney were on screen together we’d go “haha mcshep lol”

So now I’m like. trying to excavate my memories to figure out when it Became Real for me.

I do tend to love buddy slash pairings and ships where one person is shrill while the other is chill so it’s not, like, surprising to me in hindsight that I did end up shipping mcshep? And then the SGA fandom being so friendly and active just…allowed my fixation the space to flourish.

But anyway, let’s see what the first McShep thing I saved to my camera roll was!

*drumroll*

It’s this art by the amazing @luluxa:

So at this point I think I was still at the “no no, I’m saving this fanart to my phone ironically” stage.

Now, this was October 30th. By November 3rd, I have photos of a trip to mandarake where I was really hoping to find SGA doujinshi cause I SWEAR I’d seen it before (I’ve not managed to find it yet. Japanese fans why. You guys love generic white guys mcshep should be massive here)

The first fic I have bookmarked is from November 2nd with the note “oh no I have feelings about McShep now” and it is Counting Down by @alienfuckeronmain, which is a post-trinity fic.

HOWEVER. I also have a Grace Under Pressure coda bookmarked from a day or so later, and this tracks with my impressions: this is the episode that most intensely sticks out in my mind as being emotionally memorable and something I needed to be reading fic about. Soooooo I guess it was Rodney that got me, and the need to process my emotions about episodes by reading other people’s processing, and, uh, now here I am almost two years later!

SO. To get to the actual question, several paragraphs and approximately a day later, I don’t know that there really was a single moment that put me there, as opposed to a series of moments enacted onto an already-primed pump? Because truly I should know by now that the danger of doing something ironically is that you end up doing it ronically, but. I remember devouring the fic I could find that was non-spoilery as we were watching (lots of episode tags) and it definitely shaped my perspective on John and Rodney’s interactions.

But essentially, this is a ship archetype I tend to like, and Rodney McKay is absolutely the type of horrible little gremlin man I tend to like, and the fic was good, and. Here we are lmao

#mcshep #wife content™️

74 notes · View notes

gomapda · 6 months ago

Text

sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 1)

this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.

side A found here!

author's note:

oh goodness. it's been a while.

i really did intend on posting this soon after i published the first part, but then life kind of got in the way. i graduated from grad school, moved to south korea, and have been here since. i'm still a carat, and i really do think about this fanfiction all the time, mainly because this story is truly me bearing my soul to the internet and my friends who have access to the original google doc.

this one is a lot less edited and looked over, but it's because this portion of the fic reminds me of something i'm still in deep grief for. so, for those of you who will read this, i was originally going to have a third installment, but i think i'll leave it at this two. it feels good and true to leave it here.

this was supposed to be published yesterday on seventeen's anni, but i was busy spending time with my korean host family who i've not been able to see that often since moving out :')

maybe i'll write short stories including these two because they are so special to me, but this main story has come to a close. the real final push was jihoon releasing "what kind of future?" officially, the very song that inspired this fic, in honor of his beautiful friend and human, moonbin. bin-ah, i hope you're sailing among the stars and looking over all of those who love you and who you love in return.

and to you, who may be reading this, thank you for being here.

✧⋆°｡☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆｡°✧

tagging @fiantomartell since you asked me to whenever i published this. it's been a long while, but.

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: 30k (bro WHAT 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 b: him.

The rapid beating in his chest drowned out the slam of the door behind him as he rushed down the stairs of your home, desperate to just get away as soon as possible. Your parents weren’t home, so he didn’t have to worry about looking like an absolute fool in front of them.

You knew. You fucking knew.

You knew how much he was in love with you and this was your way of rejecting him.

He was stupid, so stupid. If he just put his feelings aside then you wouldn’t leave. You wouldn’t have to leave. But this was all his stupid hormones and brain chemistry and his fucking heart. He knew that it wouldn’t pan out. You never saw him as anything more than just a dear friend, a brother. You made that clear.

Since the beginning, your pinkies intertwined promised a forever, but you both had different ideas of what that was. And he was stupid to believe there was a chance.

He ran.

He ran so far and so hard that he couldn’t make sense of left or right or forward or backward. All he knew was that he needed to get away from you.

But he couldn’t.

He passed by Old Man Park’s home with a winding tree you were convinced held fae people that would only come out when the entire town was asleep (there was a 50km radius, you said).

He ran by the rusted bars of the playground you two snuck off to instead of going to cram school where you attempted a flip and promptly landed on the crown of your head, wood chips tangling themselves into your hair, tears mixed with laughter and pain streaming down your cheeks.

The library where you would spend more time in the children’s section than anywhere else because you would practice your ‘reading voice’ for your future children’s bedtime stories.

The baseball field where the realization that he was in love with you hit him harder than any fastball pitch ever could.

You were everywhere.

And he needed to get away.

He went to your house to share the news of passing the trainee audition, that was the whole purpose of seeing you.

However, that wasn’t the only thing he planned on confessing.

If you asked him to stay, he would have.

But instead, you rejected him before he even got one word out.

So, he packed his bags up for Seoul, a place untarnished by you. A city that not even your light could reach, no matter how radiant you were.

──────────────────

Years later.

“Jihoon-ah, aren’t you working too hard?”

He glanced up at Jeonghan who was probably let into the studio by Bumzu. Jihoon glanced at the clock to notice a bright 4:02am glaring back at him. “Ah, hyung. I didn’t even notice the time.”

“I figured. I brought you some food.”

Jihoon glanced down at the two bags in his hands. His eyes narrowed. “Hyung, I don’t eat as much as you think I do.”

“I’ve seen you eat three full meals in one sitting. Get away from your desk and we can eat.”

Jihoon sighed before he reluctantly left the seat he hardly moved from for over seven hours. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replied happily, snapping the wooden chopsticks into two. He started chewing on one of the danmuji, the sound of its crunch reverberating in the studio. “Oh. And also, the wi-fi’s down at the dorm, so.”

“So, you’re here to steal my bandwidth.”

“I brought you food. I paid my toll.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.”

“So, are you in the composing stage or the writing lyrics stage?”

“...Lyrics.”

“Hm. What are you writing about? Or rather, who are you writing about?”

Jihoon stabbed the grilled fish. “...You know who.”

“She’s really got a grip on you, huh.”

Jihoon grunted in response. Obviously.

Jeonghan continued, “I saw that one of the local newsletters interviewed the group home that she volunteers at. She was voted as volunteer of the year. Again. She smiles with her entire body. Seems like a good person.”

The younger of the two picked away at the fish, not bringing it onto his makeshift plate. “Yeah.”

“Do you still stalk her on Instagram?”

Jihoon let out a loud sigh.

“That’s a yes, then.”

“You know it’s not as bad as it used to be. I used to check, like, every few weeks, but now it’s gone down to just a couple times a year.”

“She hasn’t blocked you yet?”

“Hah. I don’t think she even knows that my account is reactivated.”

“Well, you never needed to reactivate before. Her Instagram used to be public. The rest of the members and I used to scroll through wondering how a bright girl like her could be associated with such a deadpan guy like you.”

“Wow. Thanks, hyung.”

Jeonghan merely brushed off Jihoon’s sarcasm, already used to it. “She only made it private this last year, right? Since she complains about her program being out to kill her on her story. To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t realize you’ve been watching her stories.”

“I don’t think she checks who watches her story since she has over a few thousand followers.”

“She attracts people, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she always has.”

“Can I see her profile again?”

“You’re not going to do something weird, right?”

“Ey, Jihoon-ah.”

“That makes me really not want to.”

“Ey.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes before pulling out his phone. He opened Instagram and clicked on the “Search” feature and saw your profile appear at the top without even needing to type anything. He signaled for Jeonghan to scoot down the couch so he could sit down and handle the phone in his own hands. Jeonghan peered over his shoulder as he scrolled through your profile.

“Oh, is that Japan?”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon clicked on your post.

But it wasn’t opening.

So, he clicked again. And then again.

And his phone decided to catch up with his thumb’s movements.

The once white heart was now red.

His grip loosened on the device of betrayal and it clattered to the ground. “Oh shit.”

Jeonghan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. He placed his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I’m sorry, but. This is karma for not letting me see her profile on my own.”

“Hyung. Hyung. What should I do?”

“Just unlike it? I’m pretty sure that Instagram doesn’t send a notification as long as you unlike it before she sees it.”

“How do you know?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Jihoon. It’s not the end of the world if she happens to see it. If she blocks you, then you know, and you end up writing another heartbreak masterpiece—” Jihoon couldn’t even appreciate the comment. “—but. Who knows what’ll happen?”

“...”

“Uh. I’ll just… do it for you, then.”

Jeonghan picked up the phone, facing the screen towards Jihoon, the camera scanning his frozen features to unlock and Jeonghan tapped the red heart to empty it again. He placed the phone back on the younger man’s thigh, but Jihoon remained in the same position as earlier, eyes glazed.

“Jihoon-ah.”

“Hyung.”

“Let’s just wait, yeah? The food’s getting cold. So, let’s finish eating.”

“...Okay.”

──────────────────

Jihoon picked at the rice bowl in front of him, his mind light years away, chest filled with concern for the future. Was auditioning for a company worth it? Even if he started the process now, wouldn’t it still take a while to even hear back?

“Jihoonie.”

His heart constricted once he heard the voice of the person who made him unsure. He caught you blinking owlishly at him. “Y/N.”

“Hrmm. You seem quite a bit down, my friend. You’ve barely touched your first bowl of rice. It’s concerning.”

“Just thinking.”

“Oh, don’t do that. We know that usually ends badly for people.”

“Well, someone between the two of us has to have brain cells.”

“I pride myself in simultaneously never thinking and also being the top student of our school.”

“You work miracles, Y/N.”

“Hey, now I know you’re down because you didn’t call me a flipping nerd. Your best moods are usually accompanied by your worst words.”

“You make me seem like an asshole. You slander me to other people, don’t you?”

“Of course. I can’t have them know just how utterly wonderful and fantastic you are. I’d rather you have that butthole reputation if I get to keep my best friend all to myself. I’m a selfish lady, you know.”

Did you even know how much your words affected him?

“You’re neither selfish nor a lady.”

“Oh, but I am. I’m a selfish lady who’s only checking on you because I refuse to be wrought with worry for the rest of the day. So, come on, Jihoonie. Let’s go play darts.”

“Last time we played you almost stabbed my hand.”

“Your fault for reaching for the board when I was about to own you. Come on. Let’s go. I’ll make a pinky promise with you.”

Jihoon snorted. “Of what?”

“I promise to do whatever you want if you win.”

Jihoon scrunched up his nose in response. You were always so naive with him, trusting him wholly. But a part of him was grateful that you did. He merely sighed and stood up.

He might as well use your promise to his advantage.

──────────────────

“She didn’t block me.”

“Oh, really?” Jeonghan glanced up at Jihoon who suddenly broke the silence.

“Who’s she?” Soonyoung’s ears perked up.

“You know. His firefly,” Jeonghan replied.

“What? Why would she block you?” Seungkwan directed his question at Jihoon, who was simply trying to edit lyrics in his own studio, which was being occupied by several SEVENTEEN members.

“Jihoon accidentally liked one of her posts last night, but we unliked it. Oh, sorry. I unliked it because he was completely frozen.”

“The notification probably didn’t go through,” Seungkwan supplied. “I’m pretty sure unliking a post makes the notification go away.”

Jihoon had set his phone aside earlier in hopes of not constantly checking it. His mind may be unsteady, but he was always self-disciplined.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Soonyoung glance down at his own phone screen that buzzed a second prior.

“Oh. Jihoon-ah, she liked one of your posts.”

Before his mind could even catch up, Jihoon flung himself to his phone, his self-discipline be damned. He frantically clicked on the notification and it redirected him to his Instagram page, where he saw your name among the list of likers. He wasn’t sure whether his heart was racing or whether it stopped completely because the buzzing in his ears overtook all of his other senses.

He even ignored the boys’ laughter around him.

“Is… Is social media actually facilitating real connection right now? Are we about to prove all of the ahjussi and ahjumma wrong? Are we about to witness history?”

“Seungkwan-ah.”

“Sorry, Jeonghan-hyung.”

“She… She didn’t block me. She saw me. What is this? What do I do? Do I just ignore it? Or should I let her know I saw it?”

Soonyoung snorted. “Yah, I’ve never seen Jihoon this nervous for any performance ever.”

“His heart’s probably racing more than it did the Golden Disc Awards.”

“WHAT DO I DO.”

“Jihoon-hyung,” Seungkwan started. “I think the first thing you need to do is breathe.”

So, he did. In. Out. In. Out.

After what seemed like years, Soonyoung spoke up. “So… Are you gonna message her?”

Jihoon sat in contemplation for a moment before he decidedly shook his head. “No. It’s time to write a song.”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows rose at that. “You’re gonna go back to work after all of this?”

Jihoon bit his lip. “No. This is gonna be a solo song.”

The corners of Jeonghan’s lips curled up at his dongsaeng. “I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”

Jihoon nodded almost mindlessly.

Everything about her usually is.

──────────────────

“Jihoonie~ Wake up~”

He groaned loudly under the bed covers.

He heard you snicker, the only warning before you landed with a loud thump as he let out an “oof!” from beneath you.

“Get off me. You weigh like a million pounds.”

Rather than listening, you spread your limbs and trapped the adolescent boy beneath you, nuzzling further into the outer casing of his cocoon. “Nope. Just yesterday you yelled at me for not eating enough when you flung me off of the couch by accident because I stole the remote. So.”

“I’m suffocating. You’re killing your best friend.”

“Oh, but to die with a beautiful girl on top of you, isn’t that the way to go?”

There was a moment of silence where Jihoon contemplated catapulting your entire being off of his bed before, “Pretty sure that’s your dream, you damn pervert,” came his muffled reply.

“Huh. You might be right there.”

“Get! Off!”

His hand easily found your weak point between your first and second rib and you cried out as you toppled down onto his bedroom floor. He emerged from the confines of his sheets with hair sticking up every which way.

You grinned lazily up at his disheveled state and he glared right back at you. “Why are you in my bedroom?”

“Because your mom said to come and get you! We’re going to Muju today, remember? In time for the Firefly Festival!”

“Right. It’s your yearly family reunion.”

“Yes, I will become one with the bugs. My fursona will arise again. Or is it bugsona?”

“Is a buggy better than a furry?”

“You’re asking me to choose between two evils, my dear Jihoonie. Come on, get up. I’m excited to spend an entire weekend with our family.”

It was way too early for his mind to whirr as fast as it did at the simple implication of ‘our’. “Alright, firefly. Get out of my room so I can get ready.”

“Okay! I’ll go help Mama downstairs.”

You were committed to calling Jihoon’s mom as Mama instead of Eomma, as the latter held a tone for you that was nothing less than stressful.

Jihoon smiled at your joy, but stopped when he noticed you freeze in place. “...What?”

You shifted the weight in your feet before speaking. “Mm. Just had a thought. With a smile like yours, who would ever need the summertime?”

You grinned at him while his heart stopped. You always spoke without a care in the world; never carefully crafting your thoughts before speaking them aloud. You were spontaneous. Wild, even. Sometimes it ended with you in some kind of trouble, while other times, like this one, ended with him in trouble instead.

You scurried out of his room before he could respond.

He released a dragged out sigh as he felt his cheeks warm.

Forget summertime.

He wondered whether the earth could be sustained through all of the seasons at the sheer brilliance of your smile.

But he ought to thank the summertime.

Because it meant, every year, without fail, he would wake up to you, he would smell the breakfast you helped his mother cook, he would hop on a plane to travel to a different province and see the night sky alight with hundreds of fireflies, your face aglow with soft awe and wonder.

Yeah.

He needed the summertime.

──────────────────

“What? Jihoon-hyung is talking to the girl that just upped and left him and fled the country?”

“Chan-ah, your wording needs work,” Seungcheol chastised. The other members that were near enough to hear nodded, while others were distracted by their own activities.

Jihoon buried his face in his hands. “Eugh, I don’t even know anymore. It’s not like we’re actually talking; she just reliked one of my posts. It’s like, she went back and let me know that she saw me. But is that supposed to be a warning? Is it supposed to be a white flag?”

The youngest member of SEVENTEEN shrugged. “Hyung, I think that you’re putting a lot of meaning behind something that was just a small gesture.”

“Nah, Chan,” Seungcheol interjected. “Jihoon has been in love with this girl since he was a kid. This is more than just a small gesture, after what she did to him.”

Wonwoo spoke up. “Hey, don’t forget Jihoon was the one who left Busan first.”

The accused groaned.

“Wonwoo, you’re just biased towards her because you think that she and Jihoon would make a good couple and you believe in an ideal love.”

“Hyung, I just think that if Jihoon can write what he writes about her, there’s something there.”

“You romanticist.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Jihoon-ah, I think you’ve tried to reach her with your words time and time again, but maybe it was never made clear that she was the one it was for. You mentioned that she really thought you were in love with your noona—” Jihoon grimaced at the memory. “—so, maybe she’s just unaware.”

“She can’t be that oblivious,” Soonyoung interrupted. Jihoon knew Soonyoung was almost fiercely protective over him because he was the one who witnessed Jihoon’s aftermath firsthand. Soonyoung may be over-the-top some days, but whenever Jihoon needed it, he would help ground him.

Wonwoo’s eyes flicked between the two of his fellow 96ers. “We were all kids once, Soonyoung. We were all so focused on ourselves we couldn’t really see what was happening around us.”

Soonyoung pursed his lips. “...I guess. Jihoon, what do you think?”

Jihoon stared at his hands. “Does it matter whether she knew back then or not?”

They all collectively raised a brow.

“Whattaya mean?” Seungcheol asked.

“I can make a ton of assumptions about her. That she was actually in love with me and was scared. That she was rejecting me in her own cruel, yet kind, way. That she had no idea and the timing was just completely off. But all of that, I don’t actually know. All I do know is that… I want to see her. And not just from afar anymore. But part of me also hates her. But all of me misses her. I don’t know. I guess I’m just too stupid to figure this out.”

A heavy silence passed over the group.

Soonyoung broke it. “If you’re stupid, then I’m the biggest idiot on this planet.”

“That’s not comforting, that’s just a fact.”

“Hoon, you wound me.”

──────────────────

Award shows were weird.

At first, everything was an out-of-body experience for him and could barely process what was happening. He even couldn’t believe that he and his twelve members managed to earn their matching pinky rings and the right to produce and perform, let alone be nominated for an award. When they went on the stage, they did their best to be as refreshing of idols as they could be.

But it was much more daunting than they were used to.

Their debut year went by, and although there were many nominations, they remained only that.

In middle school, he would often tell you that you had a strange fixation on being number one in your graduating class. He said that he didn’t get it, that being in the top 5 was already something that was admirable.

He would never forget the look you gave him when you said, “One day, you’ll know what it’s like. You’ll know what it’s like to almost have something and then not. It’s the kind of feeling that eats away at you, Jihoon. The feeling of, ‘But what if I did more?’”

He merely rolled his eyes and called you dramatic.

That is, until he experienced it firsthand.

The first time ever was when he was doing a music competition for clarinet and compared himself to his bandmate, who received several achievements while Jihoon found that he simply didn’t have the body to be able to hold the same lung capacity.

Then he felt it: that driving force.

You both pushed yourselves further, to higher heights.

And it ended with him sick and bedridden.

And you, heartbroken and unsure of life.

The two of you would reprimand each other for trying too hard, but even with accountability, that envy, that desire for an indisputable win, that fear of failure, would still sneak its way into you both. You, with your academics. Him, with his musical endeavors.

For several years after their debut, at award shows, Jihoon would clap, the rhythmic beating of his hands echoing that in his chest, his smile lined with bitterness, his ears rang with the whispered voices.

‘Those people didn’t deserve it. You worked so much harder. These people don’t even produce their own music. Or maybe it’s because they have real producers and composers, unlike you. Who are you to think you deserve that award?’

One night, after another show of no wins, he collapsed onto his bed, unlocking his phone, intent on watching an anime episode before falling asleep. His members were discouraged and no one wanted to discuss what more they could even do.

Even if they did everything right, maybe it still would never be good enough.

When he opened up the YouTube app on his phone, he saw a recommended video. Your name written out in English caught his eye and he realized it was Part II of a podcast you had done with the channel before. It was a Korean-American podcast and you would share your experiences in the Korean language, connecting with your culture despite being in a foreign country.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he clicked on it, hoping to find comfort in a person he always had, in someone he probably always would.

Several minutes in and he realized just how thick that red string must be between the two of you.

“You know, I thought I undid a lot of my perfectionism before coming to college. Korea is the birthplace of comparison and pressure, I’m sure of it. It was ingrained into me from childhood. So, I did what I could. I got out. Learned to broaden my horizons. But when you attend a school like Yale, your environment really just kinda forces you to be perfect just so that you can survive. Because if you’re not, then you’re cut.”

He thought back to his trainee days.

To his current days.

How similar.

“I remember being at an event where we were being presented awards for our achievements. I remember that I was in the running for one of them, and I won’t say which one so this doesn’t come back to bite me. But at this one event, I remember no other guests were invited, only the nominees and peers in the same field. And when they announced the winner, everyone applauded, of course. However, I won’t ever forget the sight that I saw.”

You chewed on your lips, gazing upward trying to find the right words to say, a habit you’ve had for years.

“The winner had the biggest grin on their face, proud of themselves, as they are allowed to be. But when they turned back to the crowd? I think they saw something. I think they saw that our smiles were forced, that we were judging them, judging ourselves, trying to determine whether they actually deserved the recognition or whether we should have been the ones to win. And… their smile faltered. It was quick, but it was noticeable. And I think the only reason why it even faltered was because it was only those of us who were nominated or could have been. Like, it’s easy to cheer on someone for a prize that you didn’t want, but as soon as you have stakes in the game? Well. That’s a whole different story. But when they lost that smile, it felt like something shattered.”

Your eyes welled up with tears, but they didn’t fall.

“They say it’s lonely at the top. I haven’t been there in a long time, but. I don’t even know if that’s where I want to be. These people have done super cool things, and who’s to say that I would’ve gotten the same results if I had tried? And maybe, maybe they have enough competitors. Maybe they need someone who celebrates them. Someone who knows the hardships of working in this field. And maybe that’s what I can do. I just want to do what I love and what I love doing is social work. Celebrating other people. Learning their stories. Not saving the world, but trying to make it into one that might be worth saving. If I happen to get recognized because of doing those things and they give some kind of trophy for it, then alright. But that’s just a byproduct of the greatest award I’ve already given myself, which is just letting myself do what I love.”

And those were words he carried with him as he went to bed that night.

When they won their first award. Their first Bonsang. Their first Daesang.

Award shows were weird.

It was all about performance.

Performing on stage, prepped through sound-check, clean-cut choreography, and pre-recorded live vocals to grab the audience’s attention.

Performing when at their designated table, giving reactions at a timely rate for both the fancams and large screen cameras.

Performing when behind the stage, being the best hoobae or sunbae they needed to be, adapting to whatever situation they may be placed in.

He knew how to perform. He was good at it.

It was why he’s in this industry.

But there are some things that don’t warrant worrying about an audience.

As he watched the seven members of BTS walk towards the stage, reaching for their Daesang. He clapped to match the rhythm in his chest, sure and steady, at ease. His smile, genuine and wide. The voice in his head, not unlike yours mixed with his own, provided gentle comfort.

‘They deserved it. They worked hard, just like you did. Their ability to collaborate with other musicians is astounding. It would be an honor to work with them. And you, too, have won, you’ve given yourself the greatest award by continuing to do what you love.’

──────────────────

Jihoon once again found himself at the recording studio, however, at a more reasonable time. He was trying to finalize all of the details on the songs for their comeback album, so he was spending his days in the recording studio and ending it in the dance studio, fully exhausted to where he would only have enough energy to shower and trudge back to his bedroom, just to pass out on his bed.

He heard the door to his room open but didn’t make an effort to turn around.

“How’s the song coming along?”

“The album is nearly complete—”

“No, the solo one.”

Jihoon finally glanced up at Seungcheol who now stood beside him. “I haven’t had as much time to work on it. Why?”

“No, I just wanted to check in with you.”

“You’re a good leader, hyung,” he said quietly.

Seungcheol clicked his tongue. “Of course, I am. But I’m mostly just curious because you’ve never written a song about her specifically that only had you singing it.”

“…that’s not true.”

“What? Which one?”

“The first song I ever wrote.”

“Oh what? What was it?”

Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s an old song that I think only I remember anyway, plus, I only had vocals at the time. No instruments or anything.”

“…huh. What was it about?”

──────────────────

You wiped your snot away from your face, unable to differentiate between mucus and tears. Your unrelenting sobs weakened to light shudders.

His voice carried from above you, his hand entangled in your messy knots as he rubbed soothing circles against your temple. You curled yourself further into the tear-stained pillow he so lovingly dubbed, “Y/N’s Breakdown Headrest” which also doubled as “Y/N’s Punching Bag” when your emotions were forged from fire and not a dam that couldn’t hold anymore of the taunts and cruelty from your own parents.

His thigh was a mere hair’s breadth away from grazing the top of your head. He had a tendency to bounce his leg, one you continuously called him out on, but he wouldn’t ever stop his bad habit.

That is, unless you needed him to.

And he always gave you what you needed.

So, he sang to you a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.

──────────────────

Jihoon paused, wondering how you comforted yourself now, wondering if you now had a Breakdown Headrest 2.0, before he spoke again. “It’s about what all the songs I write are about. Love. Although, more lowkey, not as direct.”

“Love and her are synonymous to you, aren’t they?”

“She’s the one who taught me most of it,” Jihoon said nonchalantly. “A truly honest and genuine form of it.”

“Wow, how romantic of you,” Seungcheol laughed.

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you know I only have the patience to tolerate all of you guys because of her. She believes it’s her divine mission to be as annoying as possible.”

“She sounds terrifying.”

“Yeah, she’s taught me how to be patient and remain calm. But she was also incredibly patient with me. Honestly, it feels like all the things that make me likable are all from her.”

Seungcheol made a “oOooOooOOOooOOooo~” noise before Jihoon got fed up and kicked him out. Of course, his reprieve was short lived as more and more members flocked into his room, a constant moving traffic of his twelve brothers.

He imagined you meeting them.

With Seungcheol, you would probably tease him relentlessly, trying to come up with new names for the S. Coups game, while also thanking him for being so protective and steadfast, praising him for his taste in emo music and asking him to sing My Chemical Romance with you.

With Jeonghan, you both would sneak off to devise plans on how to create chaotic dynamics in between the members and cause more infighting while eating stolen snacks or spend hours just sitting around, doing fuck all, because why not.

With Jisoo, you both would speak in English (with you affectionately calling him by his English name “Joshua!”), sharing music as well as probably arguing between Los Angeles and New York, since that was a common feud topic Jisoo brought up.

With Jun, you would try to get as many reactions out of him as possible or get him to write down the list of all of the authentic Chinese restaurants around Korea or you would sit with him at a piano and watch as he played OSTs to Chinese dramas, applauding all the while starry-eyed.

With Soonyoung, you both would either be each other’s soulmates or the banes of each others’ existence, both fiery and passionate; however, you were always good at matching the energies of those around you, so you would let him ebb and flow while you merely followed, likely to call him, “Hoshingi,” just as Jeonghan does, and you would probably love caring for him the same way you did with elementary school students.

With Wonwoo, you would watch him play his PC games, probably in awe of his prowess or you would discuss lyricism and poetry, both exchanging flowery words for no reason as you would try to pick his brain as to what really lies beneath the surface, whether he truly is as straightforward as he seems, and be intensely satisfied that he simply is as he is.

With Seokmin, likely to sweetly call him “DK~”, you would ask him to sing for you since you loved Broadway style voices, and since you both were so generous with your kindness, there would be no doubt that the two of you would somehow manage to start up a non-profit that manages to eradicate all the bad in the world.

With Mingyu, you would discuss filming and the latest movies to watch and you would ask him how he finds the motivation to do many different hobbies at once especially when busy with being an idol; you would probably try to trick him into listening to you tell ghost stories as if they happened to you.

With Minghao, you would share your favorite poets and philosophical ideas, sharing the life lessons that you two have learned and realized you managed to hack life’s code at a younger age than most, you both realized the real importance of being alive: contentment and love.

With Seungkwan, you would probably be laughing so hard at his wit that you wouldn’t have much time to breathe, you would try to figure out how exactly he managed to memorize so much information surrounding K-Pop and why exactly he was so passionate about it or if neither of those, you would ask him if he could get you the plug for those Jeju hallabong oranges.

With Hansol, you would call him “Vernonz,” since you loved names that began with the letters V and Z, and ask him about his parents once you found out they were both artists, and you two would definitely discuss the effects of late-stage capitalism and social media on humanity.

With Chan, you would do your best not to baby him, but you hold a lot of fondness for those younger than you, you would try to figure out how he is so particular about his attention to detail and whether it is something that is pressuring him (and if there was some way you could alleviate it).

He imagined you there, integrated into his life again. He imagined you showing authentic interest in every one of his precious members, unlike most interviewers they would be forced to interact with every comeback. You would learn all of their names, find out their favorite foods, the best way to make everyone collectively laugh, and ultimately, how to help all of them feel comfortable around you and inevitably love you.

And once they did, he could say that his most beloved people were finally all together.

He fell in love with you, but you’re the one who taught him how to walk into it with his eyes wide open. So, he did it with his members. It took practice, having to actively choose them. With you, it may have always been a choice, but it was as natural as breathing, even if there were times he felt like he was being suffocated (or wanted to suffocate you).

He remembered the first time he became aware of it. Most people talk about how love comes, there was always talk about rose-tinted glasses and how it softened the world around them, unable to forget the brilliant smile on their face, but no. You always shattered expectations.

From anyone else’s standards, his realization came at an inopportune time. But it was so clear. It wasn’t as though you had sparkles around you as you emitted a warm glow, it wasn’t as though your hair was perfectly touched up with no strand out of place, it wasn’t as though you were perfectly dolled-up with eyes lined and lips colored. No. It was just… you.

And that's when he knew.

Because there was no filter to block the sheer clarity he was hit with when he finally accepted he was in love with you.

──────────────────

When Jihoon saw your crying form, a slurry of words filled with concern and instructions were the only thing leaving his mouth as he packed his things up. He only deviated once he gave a quick farewell to his noona who left with her dad.

Jihoon bit his lip. Would you be okay? Maybe he’ll just rush home now and shower then call you later at night. Or maybe he should go prepare his bedroom if you decide to visit. Yes. He should do that.

Jihoon turned on his heel to make his way back home, his newfound mission resounding in his mind.

However, your cousin’s voice reached his ears, “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”

He looked back at him, saw the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly. His fist clenched, the baseball preventing his nails from biting into his palms. He spun it once. Twice. And up into the air.

“Here, firefly.”

You caught it by instinct.

Your gaze met his.

He felt his heart ache at the sheer brokenness apparent in your eyes, rimmed with red and puffed skin. He grit his teeth. He hasn’t seen you cry this hard since the day your parents told you that your number two class ranking was nothing to be proud of and that they expected more from you.

His jaw clenched so hard, he heard an audible bite.

“Why are you giving me this?”

Your voice sounded so soft, like a child. A visceral instinct within him wanting to lull you into a peaceful rest with a lullaby.

But he wouldn’t do that.

Because that would be embarrassing.

(That was a future Jihoon problem.)

“It’s your win today.”

He much preferred the look of confusion on your face to the look of agony you held just a few moments ago.

“Huh?”

He swallowed thickly, his brain unable to keep up with the words tumbling from his mouth. “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 probably much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands, unlike his.

You sniffled.

A soft smile formed on your lips.

And Jihoon realized he preferred that look on your face than any other he’s seen.

Pretty.

He rapidly turned on his heel before he even gave a second to try and unpack that thought.

The weight of his baseball gear was really doing a number on his heart, he realized belatedly.

That night, he didn’t prepare his room. He didn’t even call you.

(Not that you reached out.)

He merely stared up at his ceiling, his heart in a constant flux of rapidly beating or stopping completely.

He groaned loudly as he played through the day’s earlier events, thinking himself stupid for giving you a fucking baseball. You don’t even like sports. Did he think he sounded cool when he said all of that cringey stuff?

It’s your win?

But despite the feeling of wanting to curl in on himself, he couldn’t help but still agree with his earlier self.

You did win his heart, after all.

(He threw his pillow at the wall.)

──────────────────

“You’ve been liking her posts more easily.”

Jihoon merely grunted as he tapped away at his computer, Soonyoung on the couch beside him. “I decided to just… stop overthinking. Well, more like just stop thinking in general. I’m too tired to try and pretend I’m smarter than I actually am.”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. “You got it bad for her.”

Jihoon glared at him, who was scrolling through his (Jihoon’s) phone. “Be careful what you say. For the amount of songs that are about her, she covers basically 60% of your salary.”

Soonyoung laughed. “Guess I owe her a lot, huh? If she didn’t up and leave, you wouldn’t have come here and we would’ve never met. So, I guess I’m grateful to her. Plus. She’s cute.”

“She’s more than that.”

“Yeah. I can tell,” Soonyoung went quiet for a moment. “She… A part of me really doesn’t want to trust her. I keep remembering that day, you know. Where you just… didn’t seem like yourself. Barely there—” Jihoon cringed at the recalled memory. “—but she also just seems so genuine that it makes it hard. I want to be your bro, you know? Bro code and all—”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“—And I’m nothing if not a bro. But I don’t think you’re the type of person to be hung up on someone who’s not trustworthy. Like. You lose interest in people easily if you don’t see them on a regular basis. But her? It’s been years, bro.”

“Okay, bro.”

“Just letting you know I support you in your decisions,” Soonyoung stated, but there was an edge to his voice that sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than Jihoon. “If she’s really who you say she is. If she’s the one who’s captured that stubborn heart of yours. Then I’ll do everything I can to help you out—Oh, she posted again. Wow. She posts often and yet still gets over a thousand likes. It hasn’t even been a day. Oh wow!”

Jihoon twitched but tried not to show his eagerness. “What?”

“They’re doing a donation drive for the group home that she works with. Ey, how can someone who does volunteer work to help kids and teens be a bad person? Jihoon, are you kidding me?”

“Young-ah, you’re the one who said it, not me—”

“So close-minded, Hoon.”

Jihoon rolled his computer chair over to Soonyoung, snatched his phone back, and smacked the annoying gnat’s hand in the process. Soonyoung yelped in pain, but laughed it off. He saw your post (noticed that Soonyoung ‘liked it for him’) and a figurative lightbulb lit up over his overworked head.

“This looks like something Bumzu-hyung would post on his story. Maybe I can ask him to share it. Oh, but this is her private page. Oh wait. She tagged the group home.”

“Thanks for the play-by-play.”

Jihoon ignored him and clicked the profile to see they had the exact same e-flyer post. But he knew that you’d probably notice there was an influx of donations (hardly anything got by you) and he didn’t want to bombard you with unsolicited help.

But it’s for a good cause!

But he might be trespassing on her territory.

Everyone cares about youth and kids!

This group home wouldn’t have even caught his eye had it not been for you.

He groaned inwardly. “I don’t know whether I should ask Bumzu to reshare or what—”

“Dude, just ask her if you can share it and then wait for her reply. It’s not like there’s only a one day donation thing.”

Jihoon blinked at Soonyoung. “You’re right.”

Soonyoung immediately sat up straighter, pulling out his own phone from his pocket. He opened up his voice memo app. “Say that again, I need to record that so I can set it as my ringtone.”

Soonyoung pressed the Record button, extended his phone receiver to Jihoon, who leaned in promptly and said:

“Fuck off, Kwon Soonyoung.”

──────────────────

“Kwon Soonyoung, what the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean? It’s not like I planned this.”

Jihoon glared at the boy before him who was somehow wearing matching clothes again. He specifically came home after rehearsal to change into something different and yet, here he was, matching with this endless energy ball. Jihoon specifically changed out of his all-black garment to choose a long, plain blue button-down overshirt and ripped, dark jeans. Something different from his usual style of a t-shirt and shorts.

Yet, there Soonyoung was, in nearly the same outfit, minus the overshirt being a blue flannel.

“I think this just means that we’re soulmates, Jihoon-ah.”

Jihoon pulled back his fist as if to hit Soonyoung, but the latter didn’t flinch at all, only laughed at the expense of his friend. The other members were downstairs waiting for them so Jihoon didn’t have enough time to change out of the outfit. And it felt almost ridiculous to give this more attention than it deserves, as if he was losing by admitting that it bothered him to the point of needing to change clothes.

But Kwon Soonyoung, the man that he was, would not let him live it down.

“Wow, we look like a couple. We should go on dates, huh? Get some sushi or–ack!”

The shorter of the two pressed his foot against the back of the other’s knee and Soonyoung nearly came crashing down had it not been for his instincts to catch himself.

Jihoon huffed down the stairs, shaking his head at the situation and readying himself to be made fun of by his members. Once he got through that door, it was game over.

And he was right.

Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Dino were the ones who rallied the rest of the group to heckle, which only added insult to injury, as those three were the ones who had the longest rap sheet to make fun of. Jihoon kept his disgusted face on as Soonyoung wrapped his arms around his shoulders, announcing to (what seemed like) the world about how he’s ‘matching with his best friend.’

Jihoon came back with a slew of half-hearted insults at the rest of his members, but they unfortunately outnumbered him. He is rarely on the receiving end of this level of teasing, but he was dragged into it thanks to Soonyoung, who was eating it up.

Even in the midst of it all, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel thankful that he even had someone to accidentally match with who would wear it with such pride and not shy away from it. Sure, it might seem dumb and annoying, but it reminded him that he could have that kind of playful relationship with others outside of you. He had other friends in school or at baseball, sure, but none were as comfortable, as relentlessly fun. He thought there would never be another you.

And there never was, but that feeling of acceptance, of joy, of gratitude.

He was able to find it outside of you.

Which was a heartbreaking realization before, but now he only hopes you’ve done the same.

And mere hours after his own outfit debacle, Jihoon sees your instagram story to find you accidentally matching with Hyejin, her making the same face that he did not too long ago. But you had a shit-eating grin, no doubt proud of causing a disruption in your friend’s life.

Your caption read: “oh, you and your soulmate are tied by a single, red thread? that’s nothing compared to the matching threads we got on right now. eat your heart out, makoto shinkai.”

Beneath it in smaller letters: “if you can’t tell by her face, this was not planned at all, but man, am i really rolling with it.”

Jihoon snorted at the serendipity of it all.

Perhaps the string of fate really isn’t just a single thread.

──────────────────

It was a rare day in which Jihoon found himself at home.

Which meant he had a lot of time to think about you.

(You replied to him. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. But he was, pleasantly so. Of course, it included a thumbs up emoji which was the visual manifestation of the acquaintance zone, but he would take what he could get.)

Album preparations were underway, and although there is a part of him that feels as though he should be scrambling, especially as their anniversary date was literally tomorrow, he thought back to a voice from his youth.

Years ago, he laid in his childhood bed, struck with a nasty fever from pushing his immune system too far by attempting to balance school and various music competitions. There was a half-asleep you, exhausted by misplaced guilt, with your fingers intertwined with his, who said: Jihoonie, Koreans always say ‘fighting’. I told you that this morning, and I knew you weren’t feeling well. I could’ve stopped you. And now here you are. I said ‘fighting,’ but why? Why do we have to fight? Life isn’t a battle to win. You don’t have to overcome anything, okay? You can just lay here and be with me. Please don’t get sick again. Please remember to rest. Some days, it’s okay to just be.

So, here he was. Simply being.

Whenever massive events (like SEVENTEEN’s six year anniversary) happened, he made sure to spend the 24 hours prior doing nothing than just being, to gain enough energy to last the following day.

Otherwise, the nagging guilt would get to him.

You were always weaving stories with even the thinnest of threads. Your knack for adding dramatic flair, amping it up to eleven, was a nightmare sometimes. For example, when he got sick and you kept repeating that you should’ve said something instead of letting him go on stage only to nearly faint afterwards. You took on too much responsibility for things outside of your control, which only caused you to lose your grip on what you actually could.

His chest tightened at the thought of you losing your grip completely. There were very few things in life that terrified him, but you potentially ending yours was one that plagued him until he learned how to remain steady when you were feeling unsure, and even still, it tore him up inside. But he knew that it wasn’t his battle to face; he wasn’t meant to save you. You reminded him of that time and time again, so instead, he learned how to let you live the life you weren’t sure you wanted. He observed warily.

As a teenager, he knew just how bad these thoughts could get for people at that age. He knew how people fell prey to the lies that they were unworthy of life and love.

So, he simply tried to be as honest as possible. He would do his best to not invalidate your experience, but he refused to enable those insidious feelings. He would come off as abrasive, he was sure, but your ability to detect bullshit was like no other. Your parents had a big hand in that. So, instead, he was truthful in his own way, in his own language, one that you learned to understand.

A few years ago, you did a two-part YouTube podcast at Yale. The first one was released a couple of months prior to the second, and he’s sure at least one hundred of the views are from SEVENTEEN (not all him, his members also took away a lot from your words).

He listened to that podcast time and time again. He heard the life in your voice, the curiosity of the future outweighing the pain of the past. You said that life was, at first, a means to be with the people you loved. But you slowly came to believe that life was something that you would choose to love every single day, and so you did.

He hoped that you still did, but trusted that, if there were days that would come where you did not, you would reach out to someone to wait with you until the storm passed and you could choose to love again.

His chest filled with pride thinking about how far you’ve come.

But he couldn’t help but wish there were some things that remained from back then.

That glimmer of hope spurred him to become mindful of the object he was fiddling with in his hands. He held up a bracelet of years ago, hardly worn by time or by him. He wasn’t sure whether he was still allowed to. It was one-half of a pair, but if its partner no longer existed, then.

However, he never had the desire to throw it away.

The metal charms felt both foreign and at home in his hands as he fiddled with them, the faint clicking sound of the chain barely registering as his mind was in an entirely different place. His eyes focused once again on the charm of the sun caught between his fingers.

If only catching you was as simple, he mused.

Jihoon sighed and covered his eyes, desperately trying not to cringe at his internal monologue, habitually reaching for the Chopper plushie that you gifted him years ago, squeezing the body to diffuse the embarrassment he felt.

He remembered when he saw the charms at some random shop he heard about from others and thought you would enjoy, so he decided to scope it out in advance for the two of you. It was easy, on his way home after spending a few hours on his own to rehearse his clarinet, a regular occurrence.

Although there was no doubt the two of you gravitated towards each other, you both valued your independence and alone time.

──────────────────

“We’re giving us the chance to miss each other, Jihoonie.”

“Who said I’d ever miss you?”

“Well, gosh darn. Guess I’ll cover for you and miss you twice as much.”

“…You’re dumb.”

“Yes. Can I have some of your fries?”

──────────────────

He retaliated by taking the ketchup bottle and squeezing them all over the tray of fries and you immediately retracted, believing that fries should be dipped in its respective sauce (unless they were loaded fries, of course, which warranted using a utensil of sorts).

He chuckled to himself. Fifteen was one of the most turbulent years of his life, but there were plenty of moments (like fries drowning in ketchup) that reminded him it wasn’t all intense.

Your fifteenth year started off with that charm bracelet.

Two weeks before then, you were so moody that he nearly gave you your birthday gift earlier than he intended, just so he wouldn’t have to see you be so upset (for which, he has only a vague remembrance of what could have made you so upset). Of course, it might have been easier if he had simply brought up his concern and asked how you were, but he knew you would have brushed it off as nothing.

He paused.

Did he know that though?

Or did he just assume?

He clicked his tongue, annoyed at his own self-reflection.

Communication was easy in theory.

Application, however.

He often found it difficult, matching your pace.

You were always so quick.

Quick-witted.

Quick to anger.

Quick to assume.

Quick to run away.

He heard a soft knock at his bedroom door (which meant it wasn’t Mingyu or Soonyoung) and he grunted in response. The door slowly opened (that ruled out Seungcheol and Chan) and revealed who decided to greet him in such a manner.

Ah, he was right.

“Woozingi~”

“Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Jeonghan moved to sit at the edge of Jihoon’s bed, with his legs crossed. “The members are wanting to get dinner tonight altogether since we have a schedule tomorrow. The staff said they’ll pay since it’s our six years.”

This had Jihoon propping himself upright. “Barbecue?”

Jeonghan snickered. “Yeah, it’ll be good to get ready in a few hours. But I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person since I know you like to mute the group chat.”

“That’s because it’s constantly going off,” Jihoon grumbled.

“Yes, that happens when people are trying to have a conversation, Jihoon-ah. You should try it sometimes. Especially since it sounds like you have communication issues.”

Jihoon winced. “Hyung. Your timing is terrible.”

“No, it’s impeccable. Just not for you. Anyway, a word of advice.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t have to fear rejection anymore,” Jeonghan started, slowly, the words seeming almost foreign in his mouth. “Regardless of what happens with her, you have people in your life that care about you as you are. You don’t have to try and match her. I don’t want you to subconsciously fall back into a habit of appeasing her because you’re afraid of scaring her away again.”

Jihoon blinked slowly. “I wasn’t expecting actual advice, so I’m a little stunned right now.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “I’m gonna be honest. The other members told me to come talk to you because the rest are either too scared or don’t know what to say.”

“Hah, we’re back to our trainee days, huh?”

Jeonghan grinned, probably recalling the amount of times that he was the emotional support pillar of the boys before they each learned to open up to each other. “Speaking of, I remember when I first met you. You were a teen with a cold-hearted exterior and a lot of opinions as well as the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had the responsibility to carry the music of twelve other guys and you had just lost something that was precious to you. You threw yourself into your work and that became your identity.”

“I—”

“I know you’re not that way anymore, but I’m just reminding you that, no matter what happens with her, no matter how she may respond, you aren’t that cold teenager who had to bear the weight all on your own. You’ve grown and are surrounded by people who can help ease the load.” Jeonghan paused for a moment. “Also, if I could think of a member who laughs easily at anything, you are one of the first that comes to mind. So, it concerns me that you haven’t been laughing lately, even when Mingyu accidentally sneezed out his ramyeon noodles—“ Jihoon snorted at the memory from last night. “—and, if I can assume anything about her, I don’t think she’d be very honored to know that it’s because of her. So. Come back to us, Jihoon. If she’s really meant to be in your life, she can match your rhythm. Don’t leave us in the dust.”

“Is this a long-winded way of saying ‘bros before hoes’?”

Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Maybe so!”

──────────────────

“Our Jihoonie~”

The teenage boy grunted in response, shooting up a look at one of the older members. “Is there something that you need, hyung?”

“You speak so formally, it’s off-putting.”

“That’s because someone refuses to act his age.”

“What a tough Busan guy,” Jeonghan teased.

Jihoon’s face twitched.

“Bumzu-hyung is looking for you. Said he wanted to finish up some more lessons.”

“Agh. I knew he was going to have criticisms. I’m barely getting a grip on this music production stuff, so I don’t even know if what I’m making is good enough to sell. Everyone might hate it.”

“Even if everyone else hates your music, just know I’m one of your biggest fans.”

“...If my music is hated, then we won’t make any money, which means you’ll be poor. What? Is it your dream to become poor?”

Jihoon expected Jeonghan to laugh and tell him that he was right and that money mattered. But instead, Jeonghan replied, “Jihoon. Your music is good. And if we don’t make money because other people aren’t able to see it. Then what’s the point? You say that it’s your responsibility as to whether SEVENTEEN succeeds or not, but, we’re thirteen members. Three units. One team. We’re SEVENTEEN. Stop acting like it’s all about you. Maybe my dream used to be becoming rich. But now, it’s just doing this. With all of us.”

──────────────────

Jihoon stared at his hands, at the charm bracelet. “Is it selfish to want this life and her as well?”

“Maybe it is. But, so what if you’re selfish?”

“Isn’t being selfish supposed to be a bad thing?”

“Just hope that she’s as selfish as you are,” Jeonghan shrugged. “By wanting her in your life, does that mean you want to be with her romantically?”

Jihoon paused. “You know, I’m not sure. I think I would be over the moon if we could even just be a part of each other’s lives. To have that line of communication open. But as the people that we are now. I think I’d like to meet the new Y/N. She probably has more in common with the new Lee Jihoon than the old her anyway.”

“You two have grown apart, aren’t you worried?”

Jihoon went silent for a moment, trying to pick out the right words. “Rather than grown apart, it feels like we’ve simply grown in separate spaces, by taking different routes, but our lives seem too intertwined for our paths to never cross again. Plus, she’s one of the few people that I could really be myself around. It’d be nice to have another safe space like that outside of SEVENTEEN because who else can I complain about you all to, that wouldn’t cause conflict between us?”

“Ay. What is there to complain about?”

Jihoon gave his hyung a pointed look.

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan started. “But be honest. Real talk. You really think she wouldn’t spread it to Dispatch?”

“She has always valued people’s stories more than anything, so it really annoyed her when other people would take out-of-context excerpts and twist them. So. That’s how I know she wouldn’t spread it. Also, if she was that kind of person, she would’ve done so by now. She has a ton of blackmail material on me.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “Interesting. You said she likes stories, so is she a writer like you?”

“Not in the traditional sense. She’s more of a speaker than a writer. In high school, of course, she had her awkward moments like everybody else did, but even then, she was a tier above the rest. I don’t know how to say this kindly, but she doesn’t really think before she talks, but she doesn’t usually have to because what comes out is almost always what she intended.”

“So, she must be eloquent then.”

Jihoon clicked his tongue. “Just because things come out as she intended doesn’t mean she wouldn’t intentionally be mean or annoying.”

──────────────────

“You like unnie, don’t you?”

Jihoon spluttered. Shit, shit, shit. He tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He wasn’t good with spontaneous spoken words, that was always your realm of expertise. He needed time to think of the right thing to say, but you never waited for him. “F-Firefly, I—”

You barked out a laugh, and he nearly retaliated at the harshness. He wasn’t sure why exactly you were being so harsh. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. She’s pretty high up there, above us mortals. From now on, I’ll do my best to help you out, yeah? That’s what best friends are for. Plus, you’re like family, like a brother to me, so.”

Jihoon sank back.

Family? Brother?

He wondered why that left a bitter taste in his mouth. But that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t being called family the highest praise?

So why the hell did that piss him off?

Instead of speaking his actual thoughts, his mouth had a mind of its own. “I can handle myself, Y/N.”

You sneered at him.

God, you were so infuriating sometimes.

She wasn’t like that.

She was the soothing waves of Busan, ebb and flow, constant and expected. She was everything you weren’t. She was older, more experienced, graceful, calm, soothing.

She was beautiful.

But she didn’t have that burning fire you did. Didn’t have him reacting the way you managed to every time you opened your damn mouth or rolled your eyes—there you went again!

What the hell was wrong with you?

Rapid escalation, raised voices. You, accusing him of not trusting your judgment and hiding his crush from you, saying that you wished he trusted you. Him, arguing that he didn’t need to share every little thing, that it wasn’t about his trust for you at all, and that God, he did! He did trust you! Of course, he did!

So, why didn’t he tell you about the stupid crush?

It wasn’t that deep, but you were convinced it was, and he was too tired to even try and correct you. So, sure, he could be “in love” with his noona, like you believed. Because then he wouldn’t have to untangle the mess in his chest. He could shove it under the rug like he always had, always would.

You slammed your fists down onto the table before you walked away from him, in a rampage. Like a damn wildfire trying to clear everything in sight.

You were a volatile thing, explosive, even.

But.

You fizzled out just as fast.

He awoke around midnight to the soft knocking at his window, your silhouette perched on the thickest branch the tree outside his childhood home had to offer. He had half a mind to not open the glass pane but he saw you shiver and his body leaped out of bed without a second thought.

“I’m sorry, Jihoonie,” you said, a few moments after you clambered into his room.

“Okay.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for being friends with me anyway.”

“Sure.”

So, he wrapped your favorite blanket around you, the one he kept in his room for nights like this. Color slowly returned to your face and he saw the stains of tears on your cheek in the moonlight. You muttered words of apologies and told him about your day, not having the chance to earlier.

You were better like this, quiet, but not silent. Like a crackling fireplace beckoning all to come and listen, to be enveloped in warmth and light.

He never once called you his family.

But he’d be damned if you weren’t his home.

──────────────────

“Funny enough, despite the fact that she’s more of a speaker than a writer, even more than that, she’s a listener. She listens to more stories than she tells them. I think that’s helped with her pride. If she knew she messed up, she would always apologize, even if she hated doing it.”

“Well, that’s one lesson you haven’t learned from her yet.”

Jihoon pulled a face and Jeonghan laughed in response. The older of the two snatched away the Chopper on the opposite end and started throwing the doll up and down.

“Alright, lover boy. What I got from this conversation is that you’re still in love with her, but you gotta make sure she’s worthy of your love, alright? Heed my warning, don’t be afraid of being rejected by her. It’s already happened anyway, and here you are: world-star idol with twelve bros behind you no matter what.”

Jihoon cracked a smile. “You’re right. I got lucky.”

Jeonghan tossed Chopper back in his original vicinity. “I think Dokyeomie wanted to ask something from you too, but I don’t remember what it was, so maybe you can go get ready and he’ll come find you.”

“What a useless messenger.”

“Your luck can’t be perfect, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan quipped. He turned to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. “I hope to hear her story one day. Hear her side of things.”

“…Me too, hyung.”

──────────────────

“How much is the corn dog?”

“Hmm… Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”

Jihoon mustered as much displeasure as he could hold in his six-year-old body. “Y/N, you can’t pay with stories, that’s stupid.”

“It’s my shop!”

“Jihoon, we’re just playing pretend,” your cousin added, his eyes darting between the two of you, likely worried about needing to do damage control.

“Hyung, her idea is dumb!”

“Why!” You whined. “People pay with money all the time, but you can get money whenever! I don’t get to hear stories! I like stories! My parents don’t read to me every night like yours do, Jihoon!”

Jihoon stomped out of the playroom in annoyance, ears grated by the sound of your crying and your cousin’s failed attempts to console you. Stories couldn’t buy the new toy race car that he got. Stories couldn’t buy him candy at the corner market near the kindergarten. Stories couldn’t buy a GameBoy.

Stories didn’t matter.

Money mattered.

Still, nearly a decade later, you never failed to ask for your unconventional form of payment every time he took a portion of your lunch. He knew you packed more for him anyway. And he knew you would always ask for a story in return.

And he intentionally packed smaller meals so he could tell you about how the History teacher had botched up his classmate’s test and accidentally graded off by one, about how the clarinet solo he was learning required a finger pattern he wasn’t used to, about how that one guy—oh, the tennis player?—no, no, the flautist—isn’t it flutist?—it doesn’t matter—yes, it does, Jihoon—anyway, he asked out a girl—the senior?—yes—oh wow, how bold.

And you would smile in return, sliding your food choice of the day within his reach.

He learned that you hated money; it was the one and only thing your parents ever gave you consistently. Simply, it was the manifestation of their love (or lack of) for you.

So, he paid you with recountings of the mundane. You never complained, even when he felt as though his storytelling skills were lackluster. He held your rapt attention; your eyes wide with wonder, voice laced with curiosity.

Eventually, he asked you why.

Why stories?

“Because without them, I wouldn’t have learned that you love the X-Men series because of Hugh Jackman, that you prefer winter over summer, that the first ever K-Pop group you listened to was Brown Eyed Girls, that when you tell me a funny story, you wait until I react before you start laughing.”

And you gave him that smile that made his heart stutter.

“Money is everywhere, Jihoon. But there’s only one you. That’s all there is to it. People, at the core of it all, are just stories. So. That’s why. People will always matter more than profit.”

──────────────────

After Jihoon readied himself for the group dinner, he plopped himself down onto the communal couch and found himself scrolling through Instagram. He stopped at your latest post, a candid shot of you reading a children’s book to several six-year-olds, your face aglow with excitement, a high chance the photographer captured you mid-way through some silly voice attributed to the character on the page.

“Hey, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“Can I borrow your microphone for the day?”

Jihoon didn’t even have the chance to think twice before the words left his mouth, “Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.

“Is… Is this a hidden-camera?”

“...never mind. Just put it back when you’re done.”

“It’s blue, by the way.”

“I don’t care—”

“It makes me feel happy because it’s the color of the sky and of the ocean, which means it can be super calm or super exciting. It’s also one of the colors of our Caratdeul.”

“Okay, Dokyeom-ssi. Get out.”

“Yes, hyung. Thank you.”

Jihoon thought about how, if given the chance, you would ask Seokmin if he liked the paleness of 9am or the depth of 6pm? If he liked the gentleness of serenity or the vibrancy of cerulean? Or if he appreciated all that the shades encompassed before fading into greens and indigos?

But he wasn’t you.

You were the inspiration; the muse.

You were the reason to write.

He was just a storyteller.

──────────────────

“THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS HERE. THANK YOU TO THE PLEDIS STAFF, OUR MANAGERS, OUR CHOREOGRAPHERS, OUR MUSIC TEAM, OUR DANCERS, OUR STYLISTS, OUR CAMERA WORKERS, OUR FAMILIES, AND OUR SEVENTEEN MEMBERS! HAPPY SIX YEARS. HERE’S TO MORE!”

Everyone in the rented out restaurant cheered before drinking together. Even the sound barrier breaking screams of Soonyoung wasn’t enough to dampen Jihoon’s pride and spirit over how far they’ve come as a team. He looked around at his table, several members already seemingly drunk, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Jihoon-ah, make an exception for tonight and drink!”

He shook his head fervently. “There’s going to be several of you who are going to regret drinking when we have our V LIVE tomorrow. You’re going to look super puffy.”

“I can already feel it,” Seungcheol laughed, his eyes slightly glazed. “But the food and the beer are too good to pass up.”

Speaking of, Jihoon made sure to snatch a piece of kalbi to put onto his plate before Mingyu could. The younger one gave him the stink-eye while Jihoon merely smirked and tilted his head back, challenging him. Mingyu decided to change his target and grab at Seungkwan’s piece, who promptly smacked his hand with a “Kim Mingyu!”

Laughter went around the table as they reflected on the last six years, the amount of embarrassing moments that were brought up were positively correlated with the amount of shots that were taken.

Jihoon grit his teeth as he tried not to fold in on himself, remembering how they threw him up as a cheer and nearly ended his life by creating a Jihoon-shaped hole in the ceiling. He was so much smaller back then, easier to launch without thinking.

They laughed about the incident where Mingyu was nearly beaten to death by Jihoon with a guitar, which Jihoon argued that he still believed he was in the right. They discussed one of their first performances as a team, where they performed NU’EST’s “Hello” and they all had helmet hair. They poked fun at Seungkwan for his revolutionary English skills when he said, “are you kimbap kidding?”

They’ve grown so much.

International interviews with BuzzFeed, Seventeen the magazine, and others. GOING SEVENTEEN as a show has grown alongside them, more than just showing Carats the behind-the-scenes, but has now turned to variety that garnered the new fanbase of Cubics, and has been an honest highlight to Jihoon’s career, where they can just go wild and laugh with each other, just as they always do.

They talked about how they used to sneak in food, how they used to help each other get ready for school, how they still have the same playful spirit as they did back then, but with more trust that has formed between them (although, less for Jeonghan since his cheating at games has only gotten worse).

Jihoon leaned back, full of food and laughter and gratitude.

He wouldn’t trade his life with his team for anything.

(Not even you.)

However, that didn’t mean Jihoon didn’t want you to be a part of his already complete life.

He was a selfish human being.

He hoped you would be one too.

──────────────────

May 26th.

Six years ago, “Adore U” came out, marking the beginning of the journey of a thirteen member boy idol group named SEVENTEEN.

Now, here he was, trying to not be bullied into drinking another shot of soju after already consuming several in a short period.

Their anniversary V LIVE ended not too long ago and they did not have a schedule the following day, so the team decided to celebrate on their own, playing Mafia and messing around. A few hours ago, Jihoon would’ve hardly been able to tolerate the noise level, but since his hearing has been compromised due to his heart beating so loudly in his ears from the alcohol, he was plenty fine.

He shooed away his members and retreated back into the corner of the room, pulling out his cellphone and ignoring Mingyu making stupid kissy faces and noises. Jihoon shot him a look of disgust, but Mingyu merely laughed it off and went to go bother his next victim, who seemed to be Boo Seungkwan, a prime choice indeed.

As soon as he refreshed his Instagram app, there you were (with a highlighted gradient ring around your profile picture, your head tilted back with a soft smile grazing your features as you took in the endless sky above you).

He clicked on the circle and saw you and your friends there, a dimmed photo but your collective smiles large and wide. He recognized Hyejin and Wheein easily (the former with a disgusted look apparent on her face and the latter with a deep dimple), as they were two friends who were a common occurrence on your feed.

And there you were.

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

The corner of his lip quirked up at the cleverness in your caption.

Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in his system, he swiped up to send a message:

i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan

His brain short-circuited.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

Who was he to think he could directly message you like this? Also, who the hell was he to figure anything about you? He hasn’t even spoken to you. Jesus Christ, what has he done?

Before he could stop himself though, his thumbs decided to speak his thoughts.

sorry that was dumb of me to assume

of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album

What the hell, dude.

You were going to freak out and call him a creep and then block him.

You’ve literally never done that.

He tried to calm his heart.

However, not even ten minutes later, he realized he couldn’t take that risk.

sorry that was stupid

ignore me

congrats y/n

He felt nearly every goosebump that crawled along his skin, creeping up to his neck, threatening to choke him out. He breathed in deeply through his nose, hoping no one bears witness to him.

“Yah, Jihoon-ah.”

His eyes trailed up to see Soonyoung with a look of concern, mixed with a twinge of panic and anger.

Ah, it would be him.

“What did she do?”

──────────────────

For people who didn’t know him, Kwon Soonyoung comes off as, well, not-so-bright.

But that wasn’t (entirely) true.

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

He knew how to read a room, but oftentimes, he would purposely choose to simply do what he wanted anyway. Hardly did he ever prioritize another person’s comfort and complacency over his expression of his individuality. He knew what it took to be a performer, and he never denied himself the opportunity to be one.

So, him simply staring at his friend in silence with eyes that alone could have earned him his moniker of “Tiger’s Gaze,” was a major indicator that something was amiss.

Also, the fact that his friend was shrouded in near darkness, eyes rimmed with red, only a corner lamp illuminating his pale features.

“She went to America. She’s never fucking coming back.”

Soonyoung tried not to wince at his friend’s broken tone. Jihoon cursed like a sailor when they were trainees, but it was a habit that he slowly lost since he would often be reprimanded for his speech. He had to do the work to censor himself.

Well, the K-Pop industry was not a stranger to censorship, he mused.

“Wasn’t she already at an international school, though?”

“Yeah, but I just… I thought she would come back after graduating from that boarding school, you know? She wanted to go to Seoul National University, but. Fuck, dude. What if I’m the reason she stopped? What if she stopped following her dreams because of me? What if I–”

“She made her choice, Jihoon.”

“This is all my fault.”

“How?”

Soonyoung saw confusion flit across Jihoon’s face, but it quickly settled with a shake of his head. “It just is, alright?”

“Jihoon–”

“I’ll never be good enough for her. Fuck, I just thought if I tried, then maybe I could be, and– God, who do I think I am? Of course she’d never want someone like me–”

“Dude! Shut the fuck up, will you?”

Jihoon sat there in stunned silence.

“This might not even have anything to do with you. And if she really went to America because she’s trying to avoid you, then she’s a massive bitch–”

“Don’t fucking call her that–”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. Just like she’s doing whatever the hell she wants.” Soonyoung’s anger was slowly morphing into rage. Who was this person in front of him? He was so used to the sure, secure Lee Jihoon who would never truly get riled up.

But one mention of you and suddenly he would spiral.

Who the hell did you think you were?

Leaving this man who loved you so fucking wildly, to the point where he was just one moment away from begging on his knees for your return.

Soonyoung felt disgusted, but it was more of a ringing concern in his ears.

“Jihoon, you’re acting crazy right now. So what if she doesn’t come back to Korea? Are you gonna wait like a fucking sad dog out in the rain? Hoping that she’ll come pick you up again? You’re missing your own fucking life here.”

“I just–”

“Yeah, yeah, you love her. I get it. But… If she were to see you right now, do you think she would even want this kind of love? This obsessive, insecure kind?”

Jihoon’s face was now contorted in pain and Soonyoung tried so terribly hard to keep his face neutral. Soonyoung was plenty capable of being a soothing person, especially to his fellow members, but he was so riddled with frustration that he knew that he would come off as disingenuous if he even tried to pretend to be.

“Let her go. If she comes back, then she will. But don’t let her come back to someone who is incapable of even picking himself off of the floor.”

“...Okay.”

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

Aware of how much Lee Jihoon was in love with you.

Painfully so.

──────────────────

“I just–”

“You just what?” Soonyoung’s eyes bore into his friend’s face.

Jihoon recoiled at his tone. “I replied to her Instagram story and it was some dumb comment, but what if she thinks I’m being too much and she backs off and–?”

“Jihoon-ah.”

“...Soonyoung-ah.”

“She’s human, right?”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Then why are you acting like she’s this untouchable goddess? Who cares if she thinks you’re being too much? You’re putting her on a pedestal she probably doesn’t even want, dude.”

──────────────────

“Why’d you reject the guy?”

You glanced up at her best friend. “What’re you talking about?”

Jihoon cocked his head to the side. Was it already so quickly forgotten by you? It happened at lunch and it was kind of rowdy. Poor dude. “The guy who asked you out to the dance. You said you thought he was cute before and that he was good at tutoring math.”

“Yeah, I might know him, but he doesn’t know me.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys tutored together.”

You clicked your tongue. “Yeah, we do, but. He doesn’t know me. I know him because I ask him questions. I ask him about himself. But he never once asked me a question about me. If he did, he would know that I hate public gestures. He would know that I don’t like receiving flowers. He didn’t even care to ask any of my friends about what I liked. The main reason as to why he asked me to go to the dance is probably because I made him feel good about himself. I might know him, but he doesn’t know me, and that’s one of the most annoying things.”

“What, that people don’t know you?”

“No. That people assume they know me.”

Jihoon paused for a moment.

“People think that I’m this super wholesome good kid who gets perfect grades.”

“Well, one of those things is true.”

You cracked a smile at that. “Yeah, well. The more people assume I’m on a different level from them, the lonelier it is. I just… I don’t want to be lonely, Jihoon.”

“It’s alright. I’ll make sure you aren’t.”

It was chilling, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, as if you knew a secret he didn’t, as if you already prophesied a future that rendered his words empty. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lee Jihoon.”

──────────────────

Jihoon nearly bit his tongue.

Ever since he no longer had the security of having you be by his side, he became exactly like one of them, forcing assumptions onto you.

You were out of sight and he was out of his mind.

He told you that you could always be yourself around him, and here he was, creating a caricature of you in his head that he knew didn’t exist. To push forth the narrative he wrote. One born of insecurity. “...I don’t understand how you’ve been so right lately?”

“I really do wish I had my phone around to record you when you say that,” Soonyoung said off-handedly. “So, you’re not going to try to unsend those messages?”

“You can unsend messages?”

“Uh–”

Jihoon immediately unlocked his phone to go to his messages. There, he saw your chat. He long-pressed the message without much thought and his thumb hovered over it.

But he hesitated.

“...Just watching from afar isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?”

Jihoon stared up at his friend, who had a look of (almost) pity etched across his features. Jihoon swallowed the lump in his throat. “...No. I don’t think it is.”

“Well, if she rejects you in any kind of way, I can comfort you.”

“No thanks.”

“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”

──────────────────

Almost exactly sixty minutes later, Jihoon witnessed a miracle.

“...She replied.”

Seungkwan glanced up at Jihoon. “Who?”

Jihoon turned his screen to his younger member, who leaned forward to read his screen. Only to audibly gasp and cover his mouth with his hands. “You messaged her?!”

“Yeah, like an hour ago. Keep up.”

“Hyung, you didn’t tell me–”

“Ah, Boo Seungkwan.”

The corner of Seungkwan’s mouth twitched and Jihoon merely smirked. He turned his attention back to your messages, smiling fondly at your usage of 🥳 after greeting him a happy anniversary.

Oh shit, wait. You knew SEVENTEEN?

And he portrayed that sentiment exactly when messaging you.

(With some typing errors.)

(He may or may not have taken one, two, several shots once the anxiety settled back into him.)

(His alcohol tolerance was nonexistent.)

The messages were now rapid-fire. He found out that you were a Carat and that you favored Yoon Jeonghan.

He snorted at that, of course you would.

A lightbulb lit up over his head. Ah. He could do something for you.

He jumped up from his seat on the couch, away from Seungkwan who was watching over his shoulder the entire time who chose to remain silent because he knew he would be kicked out if he said anything compromising. “Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Woozi Woozi~?”

“Can you do something for me?”

Jeonghan stared at him, frozen. Then after a moment to process what exactly Jihoon said, the older one crossed his arms over his chest, a scandalized look in his wide eyes. “Depends on what you’re asking for.”

“YAH.”

“Lee Jihoon, don’t yell at someone you’re trying to ask a favor from. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”

Jihoon held his tongue, but his expression must have given it away because Jeonghan laughed and said that he would rather not die, and asked Jihoon to continue with what he was saying. “Y/N just graduated and she basically said that you’re her favorite SEVENTEEN member–”

“WOW! I like her already.”

“Hyung.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do for both my cute fan and my even cuter dongsaeng?”

“Just a video to congratulate her.”

“My videos are rare, it’s not easy to get something like this, you know.”

“Hyung, please.”

Jeonghan cackled, but quickly acquiesced. “Alright, alright.”

Soon enough, he found himself in a rhythm speaking to you. It was so easy, there was no residual awkwardness (on his end, at least) and it felt so natural. The banter was still there and so were your emoticons, escalating from the “:)” of your childhood to the iPhone emojis. You seemed so close, within reach, attainable.

That felt dangerous.

He could feel it. He could feel that desire to spill out everything he could. He spent years coming up with the words he wished he could’ve told you, some of them now award-winning songs, and it feels almost euphoric to know that he could tell you it all.

But.

He wasn’t sure, still. How receptive you would be. Would you run away like you did in the past whenever things became too much, too overwhelming? He always reminded you that you could never be that, but he wasn’t sure whether he was of the same capacity.

He wants you in his life. There is no doubt about that, especially not now.

But what if you leave again?

He cannot mess this up. He can’t.

So, he kept things light between you, jokes and jabs.

But that didn’t stop him from pushing for more, disguised in a (not-so) innocent attempt at ensuring that he would be able to have open contact with you in the future.

And that’s all he needed. A future with you in it.

That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

──────────────────

Yes. Yes, it was.

After a few days of no response from your end on KakaoTalk, your Shikamaru profile picture almost mocking him with his permanent deadpan look, the answer was resounding.

But Jihoon’s entire identity was based on his stubbornness.

So, he decided to take a chance and message you on Instagram.

Only to retract immediately saying you didn’t have to reply.

Stupid.

Thankfully, though, you responded within 30 minutes, admitting that @narutofanfreak123 was not exactly a username you wanted to share with anyone above the age of twelve. You both quickly resolved the miscommunication (wow, Jihoon thought, imagine if we had this before).

He chuckled at your choice of KKT username, @MadameFirefly, oddly touched that his nickname for you still held enough weight to be your moniker for a messaging app.

He did his best to casually ask what you were planning on doing in the future (not like he wanted to see if he could somehow fit into it, or whatever).

Jihoon was left staring at his phone screen, the weight of his phone now burdened by the weight of your choices. Seoul? Or New York City?

──────────────────

“You didn’t have to miss the dance just because I got a B on an exam, you know.”

“Your parents are insane for grounding you to the library for a B on an exam, you know? And for a hagwon that’s way above our grade level.”

You shook your head, not willing to admit out loud that you agreed. “What I mean is that you don’t have to keep me company while I study when you could go off and meet cute girls and sweep them off their feet.”

“Why would I do that when I can watch you and your snot-nosed face trying to do college level calculus?”

“It’s all so that I can get into Seoul National.”

“Firefly, you could get into any school, even outside Korea.”

“Maybe I’ll do just that,” you laughed. “Finally get out of here.”

“Just let me know and I’ll stow myself into your suitcase.”

“Oh please. You’ll probably be the one traveling internationally doing whatever you do. A world-renowned musician.”

“Alright, you can be in my suitcase instead then.”

“Okay, can you leave breathing holes for me?”

“No, get better lung capacity.”

You clicked your tongue at him and he laughed. “Seriously, though, Jihoonie. You could be spending your teen years the way the movies do it. You could be ‘swearing you’re infinite’ while a slow-mo cam focuses on you as you dance, surrounded by beautiful people definitely too old to be cast as teenagers.”

“No thanks.”

You put your forehead down onto the table. “Please. Do it for me. Get a girlfriend because I can’t.”

“You know, you’re probably why I can’t get a girlfriend.”

No. You definitely were.

You shot him an annoyed look. “You could easily go and find someone who’d be smitten with you. But instead you’re about to watch me get a nosebleed over how hard I’m working my brain here.”

“Maybe I’m a sadist and want to watch that happen.”

You threw your eraser at him, but easily missed, the rubber object bouncing off of the table and onto the carpeted floor. You whined at the idea of having to leave your seat and Jihoon just rolled his eyes and picked it up for you.

Sure, he could be dancing with his friends, with cute girls, with whoever. He could be surrounded by endless snacks and overly sweet punch, the dance no doubt smelling like youth and pride and reckless decisions. He would see that there are plenty of people in his life outside of you.

But, no.

If he did, you would be left here, in this almost deserted library on a Friday, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into what your parents have convinced you matters more than your health.

You gave him a large grin as he passed you your eraser before you went back to focusing on your work.

Yeah, he’d much rather see this instead.

──────────────────

Later that evening, he found himself again in his recording studio.

Our past that didn’t line up,

If I could go back in time,

Rather than roughly, but warmly,

Would I be able to let you go?

He stared at the lyrics he wrote, feeling discontent. He wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t feel any kind of residual emotions towards you. Who would be able to meet you where you were and wish you well, no matter where you decided to go.

One of his biggest regrets was storming out of your childhood home the way that he did. He could’ve had answers but instead he was left with hostile emotions and questions.

He could only hope he would’ve done something different.

But now that he is faced with letting you go, he’s not sure how easily he would yield.

He took a moment to bury his face in his hands and tried to think about this from your perspective (something he had to practice while living with twelve other boys). He breathed in deeply and thought about the you that you are now, about how the person he fell in love with could easily be gone, and you were nothing but a shadow of what remained.

But that didn’t feel right either. It seems as though the person that you’ve grown into, that you’ve flourished into, is someone he would’ve wanted to get to know regardless of whether you had history or not.

Perhaps that is because of the artifice of social media, or perhaps it’s because you carry an air of authenticity with you that has now been given the opportunity to bloom instead of stifled in the environment you were raised in. Whether or not you were mere remnants of his past, it does not mean that the person you are now is any less lovely.

He groaned loudly.

Emotional labor is hard.

How is this something you enjoy doing?

──────────────────

“You really want to become a social worker, huh?”

You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. It feels like the best use of my skills. I like being able to potentially help people like me and well, there are a lot of people like me, you know. I don’t know whether I want to become a private practice therapist, but that seems like a solid option for now until I know more about what else is out there in the field.”

He would disagree, but he decided not to. “I just can’t deal with all of those emotions.”

You gave him a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most sensitive people that I know.”

Jihoon felt ruffled by that. “What? What are you talking about?”

You quickly put your hands up in mock defense. “I’m not saying that being sensitive is a bad thing. I’m saying that there’s no way you would be my friend if you couldn’t handle emotions. I have way too many of them, I’m not that blind to that. Also, I’ve read your poetry and heard your music and that’s some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Like, even the way you hold your clarinet is emotional.”

“I think that’s you projecting yourself onto me.”

“Say what you want, Jihoon. You’re a sensitive soul, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Yeah, well, sensitivity isn’t what gets you awards, you know. Skill does.”

You huffed in response. “Yeah, well, once you build up the second, the first is what will create a legacy that will be one to remember for ages to come. I’m speaking it into existence now. And I lay claim to the title of being your first fan. I will support you the entire way, no matter what you do. Music, baseball, comedy. Whatever!”

Jihoon snorted. He wouldn’t dare become a comedian, but it made him feel good that you thought that was a viable prospect for him. “Whatever industry I’m in, I’ll probably have to protect you from all of the bad people. You’re too soft. Even just last week, I mean…”

“What? You mean, when Nahyun made fun of me during my presentation in front of everyone?”

Irritation washed over Jihoon.

The self-proclaimed It Girl decided to try and belittle you while in the middle of your presentation, as you were explaining the measurements that you used in your findings, she asked whether you had ‘measured’ your weight recently because ‘you really ought to’.

He never wanted to get into a fight more than then, especially when your other classmates laughed along. It was a subpar, typical, low-class mean girl line, but it filled him with rage.

You were completely unphased by it, continuing on with your presentation, not even choosing to spare a glance in her direction.

Luckily, the teacher, not being a prick himself, called out Nahyun and pulled her aside after class to apologize to you. (Jihoon would’ve preferred a public execution apology.)

Jihoon stood just a few feet away as you accepted her half-assed effort. You paused for a moment and muttered something to her, something that only she could hear. Nahyun merely pursed her lips afterwards before walking away. Irritation rushed through him again.

“Seriously, though. You’re too soft, firefly.”

“Hm. I don’t think so.”

“No?”

“No. I just think everyone else is too hard on themselves. And each other.”

“...You’re gonna be a great therapist.”

“Thanks. Hire me.”

──────────────────

Jihoon had his own fair share of meetings with professional counselors (especially in the midst of living such a hectic life as an idol), but he was worried whether you would be as cut and dry as they were, whittled down by years of academia. It seemed almost like they were reading out of a textbook, using vocabulary words like ‘empathy’ and ‘self-care,’ so he never saw it fit to return if it wasn’t necessary.

However, the places you’ve poured your time into left only glowing reviews for your passion and compassion for the field that you were in.

Jihoon was roused from his thoughts at his phone ringing on his desk. He looked at the Caller ID and saw a name he has been in and out of contact with for over a decade, it was your cousin. He picked it up. “Yo, hyung. What’s up?”

“Are you busy right now, Jihoon?”

“No. It’s a slower day today. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Seoul in a few weeks. Your noona and I are planning on celebrating saying goodbye to our single days by drinking way too much within the span of 12 or so hours. I wanted to see if you were down to join.”

“I probably won’t drink, but if it’s for you, hyung, I’ll go.”

“Nice. And you can feel free to leave after the dinner, we’ll just be at an apartment we’re renting out in Gangnam, since I don’t trust those fools to walk around the streets of Hongdae.”

“I’ll probably do that, I don't want to accidentally be caught by Dispatch.”

“Right, right. We wouldn’t want to sully the name of the best producer in all of K-Pop.”

“That’s a title I don’t think I’ll ever get.”

Your cousin laughed. “You never know, you might get that award sooner than you think, kiddo. Alright, I’ll keep you updated on our schedule. But uh…”

Jihoon knew his hyung well. He was about to bring you up again. “What about her?”

“I just wanted to ask whether you’d be interested in a meet-up with her. Not that we’ve asked her or anything, but I know we’ll probably meet up with her at some point, and I know it’ll feel weird if we’re not all together, you know? The four of us.”

“Yeah… I want to say that I’m courteous enough to wait for her response, but I just know that I’m willing to meet with her, if anything. Even just one last time.”

“That… sounds kinda sad, but. I guess I’ll take it. If you’re down, we could even make it a surprise on her end.”

He imagined your deer in headlights look but couldn’t think further than that. “Sounds like we’d really be putting her on the spot, if that was the case.”

“Hey, she’s rarely played it safe. Same with you. Might as well keep the flow going. And if anything, I’ll take the brunt of it all. She can’t stay mad at me for too long.”

“We both know that’s literally not true.”

“Okay, fine. Your noona can take the blame.”

“Wow, very excited to see how this marriage will go.”

His hyung laughed. “Amazingly, I’m sure.”

A thought occurred to Jihoon and he realized it was strange that he was mentioning it as an afterthought, as if it was something to be expected, something natural and normal. “Oh, hyung. By the way, I’m talking to Y/N again.”

Jihoon heard the undeniable ‘beep beep beep’ of being hung up and he stared confused at his phone screen until he saw another phone call from your cousin. He picked up with a, “Hello?”

Your cousin sounded much more flustered than he did just seconds ago. “Sorry. I hung up because I dropped my phone by accident. Say that again. You’re what?”

“I’m talking to her again. Kind of. I guess. Like, Instagram DMing went to KakaoTalk.”

“Jesus Christ, you slid into her DMs?”

“Can you not say it like that?”

“Can you say that that didn’t happen?”

Jihoon relayed the entire experience to him, only now realizing he didn’t even share all of the details with his members because it would’ve been too much teasing fodder from them. But your cousin, his hyung, was the kind of fellow that wouldn’t do that, even given the opportunity.

──────────────────

“Hyung,” Jihoon started one day, across from said person in a local Busan restaurant. “I don’t get how you’re single.”

“Why, you wanna date me?”

Jihoon’s eye twitched and your cousin laughed. Jihoon bit on his straw, the family style meal between the two young men long since devoured. “People compare us, you know.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s there to compare?”

“I don’t know. So many people around us know how cool you are. You’re good at sports, you’re smart, you have a lot of friends, you’re handsome. Everyone always says you’re one of the best listeners they’ve ever met.”

“The trick is to not pay attention sometimes and just nod.”

“I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that.”

“I’m sure she knows,” he laughed. “Well, I'm honored that you think all of those things, but those are all traits you have too. You do realize that, right?”

Jihoon grunted. “Not… really.”

“Well, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean others don’t. My cousin definitely does. She’s a good kid and has a good heart. Same with you. If you ever decide to do anything about those feelings of yours, just know that I approve.”

Jihoon nearly choked on his drink. “Wh–?”

“Oh, it was a secret?”

“Hyung!”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything to her, don’t worry. And if you ask me, I’d say that you’re the only one on this planet that even has a chance. Well, except that girl from the cake shop.”

Jihoon sneered.

Fucking Woo Soyeon.

With her shiny hair and long eyelashes and doe eyes and tanned skin from her beach volleyball playing.

Giving out discounts to you like nobody’s business. Calling you cute and flirting nonstop while twirling a lock of her hair. Saying you’re her favorite customer. He could swear Woo Soyeon would throw a knowing smirk at him every time you stuttered a little too long when saying thank you.

That damned girl behind the counter, the one whose beauty and voice (“It’s just so velvety, you know? Like the chocolate cherry cakes.”) he knew you were smitten by.

She was even taller than him, especially in her heels.

At the ripe age of 15, Jihoon understood what jealousy was.

Because of fucking Woo Soyeon.

“Watch out, Jihoon. I can hear your thoughts all the way from over here.”

“Sorry.”

Your cousin laughed. “Trust me, you mean a lot more to her than cake counter girl. My cousin wanted all of us to go see the Christmas lights in the city together. You don’t see her inviting that cake counter girl, do you?”

Jihoon felt a weird sense of pride well up in his chest. Then immediately deflated. It felt stupid to feel like he won against a person who’s just trying to sell cakes to a loyal customer. “Hyung, how do you do it? You’d never let yourself get angry or jealous over stuff like this.”

The older of the two cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You wouldn’t get jealous over a cake counter girl.”

“Says who? I get jealous. It’s normal, you know. Jealousy isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just what you do with it, right? Like, just because you’re jealous of cake counter girl, does that mean you stop Y/N from going to that shop?”

“What? Why would I do that? She loves that shop.”

“Exactly. Emotional maturity doesn’t mean you stop yourself from feeling the emotion, it just means you learn how to handle it as it comes. And once you practice it enough, it becomes easier and easier.”

“You make it sound easy, but it’s not.”

“Hey, I’m not anything big and special myself.”

Jihoon shook his head. “Hyung, you’re a superhuman.”

“No, I’m just human and letting myself be that,” he corrected. “Trust me, there’s plenty of good people out there. A lot of them just aren’t making the decision to do so. It’s easier to be cruel, but. I want to prove that you can be kind and still be a man. We get to define what that means. If I decided to be cruel, to become what society says is ‘a man,’ then I have no doubt Y/N would lose trust in me, and probably, all men.”

Jihoon noticed that his hyung stared at him for a second.

“Actually, maybe not all men.”

Jihoon felt embarrassed, but also honored, at the implication. “Thanks, hyung. You know, for not making fun of me. And for admitting that you also feel those kinds of things.”

“Absolutely, I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m seriously still surprised that you’re single.”

“Yeah, well. That might not always be the case if I can figure out what to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… you know your noona?”

──────────────────

Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the way the events unfolded. Your cousin told him about his feelings for his future wife, but it still took a few years for anything to come out of that. He wondered whether being childhood friends had anything to do with it, as if the longer and deeper the bond, the riskier the chasm was to try to jump across.

However, your cousin still managed to do it.

“How did you do it, hyung?”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Just… how did you manage to tell noona how you felt?”

The older man laughed. “You really think that it was me who confessed? No, no. It was her. I think she was tired of the back and forth that was happening between us. I mean, so was I, but I was a coward, but thankfully, she wasn’t. Now because of her saying that she loved me first, I get to be the one who says it last. Then we start again. It’s a dialogue, you see. It doesn’t matter who starts the line, as long as it continues.”

“Oh…”

“Am I proud that I was a coward? No. I sometimes wish it was me who said it first so she wouldn’t have any room for doubt. But we can’t go back and change the past, only commit to a better future. All of this to say, though, Jihoon, it’s been long enough of not saying anything between the two of you. I don’t think you want to wait any longer.”

“…yeah. I agree.”

That night, hours after preparing for the album, Jihoon’s fingers tapped away on his Notes app.

This waiting, it’s not easy to endure.

It was past 4am now.

But he didn’t want to wait any longer.

So, he switched apps and instead of a blank Note, he began typing into a message box.

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

A response from you was the last thing he expected, but you always managed to surprise him.

The first time he heard your voice directly in his ears, he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. But he tried to keep his voice level as he asked you about where you were leaning towards for your career.

The relief that rushed through him.

The hope that ignited in him.

That was the spark needed for him to explode.

And so he did, into words.

“I’m proud of you, you know?”

He heard your throaty stutter, one that only came out whenever you were really caught off guard. “Uh—what?”

“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea,” Jihoon still couldn’t believe the two of you went to the same school. “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 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.”

He could barely hear your, “It’s not that big of a deal—” over the pounding in his ears.

“But it is, firefly.”

And suddenly he was brought back to all the years before. Where he spent more years in love with you than not. How that nickname encapsulated exactly as he saw you: inspiration, guidance, hope.

“I mean, I just—”

Your flustered response only encouraged him to continue. “You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”

“Jihoon, I—”

He didn’t realize just how much he’s missed hearing you say his name. But more than that, “I’ve missed you.”

There was a pause on your end, but he was done with his.

“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—” which he would never admit to being the reason he never wants to get behind the wheel again. “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 going down. That kind of stupid.”

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was naming a memory that you no doubt remember as well, it was near traumatizing. But there was something in him that didn’t want you to forget. He didn’t want himself to forget. Because…

If I forget someday, as if nothing is wrong,

Our future will be empty and sad.

It’s not that I want to forget you.

Ah, he made a mental note to switch to his Notes app later.

“I… I missed you too.”

Jihoon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his cheeks, almost to the point of straining them. It was already so late and he still had enough function in his brain to know he ought to cut this short now. Otherwise, he’d be on the phone with you for an ungodly amount of time. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”

“Okay.” Your voice sounded so small, he had to press his phone closer to his ear to ensure he didn’t miss anything.

“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”

“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”

He laughed hard at that. You would say that. “Alright, we’ll just go with firefly then.”

‘We’ felt good on his tongue.

“Night, night, Jihoonie.”

“Sleep well, firefly.”

He told you he needed to sleep, but with the way that he was running on sheer endorphins from finally releasing some of that pressure inside of him, sleep was the furthest thing on his mind. Instead, he imagined you getting some well-deserved rest, wondering what kind of dreams you hoped to have.

You were falling asleep, he was falling in love.

──────────────────

In less than 24 hours, he was going to see you in person for the first time in years, no more needing to find YouTube videos or podcasts or news articles or social media posts.

Tomorrow, he’ll be face to face with you.

And the dorm was in chaos.

“He should wear the white button down!”

“No, he should wear something funky, with cool patterns!”

“What? Absolutely not, hyung! Jihoon-hyung looks best in plain clothing, his skin shines that way!”

“Well, he’s been avoiding his skincare, so that might not be the best route to go down.”

“Hoon is handsome no matter what!”

Jihoon was exhausted. Why were his members more invested in this than he was?

Even Soonyoung was getting giddy. And that was a problem. When it came to you, Soonyoung was his voice of reason, but after he relayed the phone call he had with you, Soonyoung was easily won over by your: ‘I missed you too.’

“I knew it!” The tiger had exclaimed.

(Jihoon wasn’t sure whether he did.)

Junhui was thriving off of the chaos and was now leaping across the wooden floor, with Jeonghan quickly on his tail, trying to coerce him into stopping and failing miserably. Seokmin was still trying to convince Seungkwan that a funky pattern was like how, in nature, peacocks showed off to their mates—“he’s not a bird, hyung!”—while Soonyoung kept interjecting saying that Jihoon was attractive no matter what so he could just wear a plastic bag (which earned him a gentle slap by Seokmin). Mingyu disappeared for a moment after Wonwoo’s off-handed comment about Jihoon’s skin, only to return with his skincare products that Jihoon knew were going to be slapped on him soon enough. Seungcheol kept repeating in an exasperated tone, “Stop fighting, we already got a noise complaint this week,” while Jisoo and Minghao were probably off in Jihoon’s closet trying to establish an outfit for him without his consent. Hansol was on his phone, noise-canceling earphones on, completely uninvolved in what was going on. Chan was only goading on whoever was the loudest in the moment (currently, Junhui).

Jihoon piped up. “Do I get an opinion on this?”

In near perfect synchronization (including the boys in his room), everyone responded with a, “No!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

God, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

[continue reading here]

74 notes · View notes