#and now i'm listening to that playlist from last year again and all that made me fuckign. relapse akdhskhdks

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world

masterlist : here ．．discord : here ．．playlist : here

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks. You recognised him now, the student from the museum, the one that had called zaunites rats.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

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[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 4 | l.n

summary: as taylor swift once said: 'in a world of boys, he's a gentleman'.

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy x sunshine, unedited, some filler stuff this chapter, a hint of fluff here and there, and are we finally getting somewhere with this??? idk????

message from jordan: happy new year, everyone! i hope you all had a fun and safe holiday season, and i hope this year is kinder to you than previous ones <3 thank you for being so patient with me on getting something out for you guys. i'm struggling a bit with writer's block, but hopefully i can push through and some more writing done by the end of this week :) again, thank you for being so patient. sending you all my love, always <33

series masterlist | listen to the playlist

the sunlight pouring into your bedroom windows made you open your eyes. however, you immediately regretted it. a pounding sensation filling your head the minute your eyes met the light. you let out a groan, your hand coming up to your temples as you buried yourself back into your pillows. 

“here,” a voice said from next to you, “take this.”

your eyes flew open again, lando’s figure coming into frame as he held out the bottle of advil and a glass of water towards you. you blinked at him as he softly smiled, nodding back towards the medicine bottle. 

“thanks,” you mumbled, looking around the room for any signs of what could’ve happened last night. you swallowed the pills down with the glass of water that he had in his other hand. he took the glass back from you, leaning off the foot of the bed to place it on your desk. 

“did we…?” you trailed off, sitting up. you had on a pair of pajama pants and an unfamiliar hoodie, a pair of clothes you don’t remember changing into. 

he shook his head, a soft smile on his face, “no,”

“thank god,” you sighed, placing your pounding head on your knees.

“did have to carry you out of the party though,” he said, “lily’s the one who got you changed. hoodie is mine, though. you were shivering on the walk back here last night. i slept on the floor, don’t worry.”

you looked over at the floor next to the bed, now noticing the folded up blanket and pillow on the carpet. you ignored how your heart tightened in your chest as his gesture, maybe he was a gentleman.

“i don’t even remember having that much to drink,” you said, “was it really that bad?”

“the guys convinced you to play a few rounds of beer pong,” he chuckled softly, “you suck, by the way.”

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah, need to work on my skills, i guess.”

“yeah, you can say that,” he laughed softly, “you hungry? there’s this really great spot off campus if you want something to eat.”

you nodded, “yeah, just let me change and brush my teeth and stuff.”

he nodded, biting his lip a bit to hold back the smile threatening to break out on his face, “yeah, sure! i’ll uhm.. wait for you out here.”

he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder towards the door as you nodded. when he closed the bedroom door behind him, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. you weren’t sure what had flipped, but suddenly he was making you giddy like a high school girl with a crush. and honestly, you weren’t sure if you were that mad about it. 

you moved as quickly as your hungover state let you, throwing on a pair of jeans and shoes before brushing your teeth quickly and grabbing your things. 

you walked out to the living room, spotting him on the couch as he scrolled on his phone. you smiled when he looked up at you, putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie as he stood up. 

“ready?

you nodded, the two of you walking out of the apartment and towards the parking lot where he kept his car. you watched as he unlocked the doors, opening the passenger side door for you. you thanked him, smiling softly before he shut the door gently behind you. he jogged around to his side before getting in. 

“here,” he said, handing you his phone, “play whatever music you want.”

you held his phone in your hand, “do you want me to put in your passcode or do you..?”

“oh, it’s 4444.” he said, backing out of the parking space as you snickered. he looked over at you with a soft laugh as you shook your head, scrolling through his spotify.

“what?”

“your passcode is a bunch of 4s?”

he shrugged, “it’s easy to remember,”

“also easy for someone to get into your phone.” you said and he shrugged, making a right out of the school campus. 

you shuffled one of his recently played playlists, humming along to the songs you knew. you watched the view of the town out the window, thankful that your headache had slowly started to go away. 

you didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the beauty of england to see the way he looked over at you occasionally. he smiled to himself, wondering if you knew how gorgeous you were when you were in your own world. he had seen it in you before, especially when you’d lose yourself talking about art or working on the project. something about you being so unaware of your beauty made his heart rate pick up. 

he pulled into the lot of the diner, finding a parking spot before putting the car in park. he made it a mission to open all the doors for you, making you softly laugh and thank him every time before the hostess led you to the booth seat in the corner of the small diner. 

you flipped through the menu, “how’d you find this place?”

“i’ve been coming here since my first year,” he said, “they have the best pancakes in my opinion. food’s definitely better than the cafeteria on campus.”

“anything’s better than that place,” you said, “not hard to beat.”

he nodded with a soft laugh, “very true.”

after ordering your food, you ended up finding yourselves in conversation, talking about anything and everything.

“are you heading back home for the holidays?” he asked, taking a bite of his food as you shrugged your shoulders.

“probably not,” you said, “let’s just say things with my family haven’t always been…” “picture perfect?” he asked, finishing the sentence for you.

“yeah,” you said, “i normally just head back home with lily for the holidays, but with her new secret man, i don’t want to intrude if she’s planning on bringing him.”

“still haven’t met him yet?”

you shook your head, “surprisingly no. i don’t want to push her, but i really wanna know who the guy is.”

he nodded, “yeah, i’m in the same boat. oscar’s been talking about this girl, but i haven’t seen her around.”

“yeah, i texted him the other day and he said he had plans with her,” you said, “haven’t had our usual study sessions in a while.”

“hold on,” he said, “you don’t think…”

you furrowed your eyebrows, confused at what he was getting at until it clicked. you looked at him with wide eyes, “oh, god. i don’t know.”

“surely she’d say something to you, right?”

“i’d think so,” you shrugged, “unless she wasn’t sure it was going to be a serious thing, then i’m not sure.”

“i’ll try to get more out of him the next time i see him,” he said, finishing off the last few bites of his breakfast, “now i’m curious.”

you nodded, finishing your food as well, “me too,”

the waitress came back with the check, you fishing your wallet from your bag, but he was quicker in getting his card out. 

you sent him a look as he smiled at the girl, thanking her before his eyes landed back on you. his smile only got wider at the look you were sending him, “what?”

“how much do i owe you?”

he shook his head, “don’t worry about it.”

“lando-”

“nope, it was my idea,” he chuckled back at you, “you can get it next time if you really want to.”

next time?

you sighed softly before giving into him, watching as he signed his name on the receipt, “i guess i can live with that. thank you, by the way.”

he nodded, the two of you making your way out of the small diner, “anytime.”

“probably a long shot and you totally don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said, walking towards his car, “but did you wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?”

he smiled as he opened the car door for you, “yeah, sure,”

you sent him another smile as you got in the car, feeling the same giddy feeling you felt earlier. 

whatever this feeling was, you really didn’t want it to go away.

[slinkythecoffeekid]

Chapter One || You Know What They Say About New Guys

Updates: Hi everyone, I'm back! I've been binge-watching Ted Lasso (because I was gifted some Apple+ for the holidays), and honestly, Jamie and Roy have been all over my reels and stuff, so I wanted to finally watch it. Let me tell you, I was inspired!

Chapter 1/? of the "Standing Again" pairings: unsure at the moment Rating: T for teens word count: 6.2k Warnings: mentions of injuries, anxious behavior, depressive episodes, swearing, self-esteem issues. Notes: pretty sure I made this GN, but if I missed something let me know

Synopsis:

You used to be a professional footballer. That was until you got injured with a torn ACL at the height of your career in the final match of a championship run. It's been three years since you've played competitively (let alone at all). You've been offered a job at AFC Richmond Football Club as their new nutritionist. Accepting the position to move on from your past, you find yourself dealing with one of the most chaotic teams in the Premier League in their day-to-day and your own healing from your past.

playlists are 10 songs per chapter!

“Well, Arlo, we have two minutes left of the ninety, and Man City is up one nil to Crystal Palace in this game.” 

“Yes, well, Chris, it comes down to how many shots on goal. Man City goalie number 13 (Y/N) (y/l/n) has battered down and blocked. They're on quite the defensive hot streak today.”

“The ball is with Sharpe, Sharpe passes to Blanchard, Blanchard to Weerden, and Weerden lines up for the shot! And- It's blocked by the goalkeeper! Another brilliant save by Man City's own (Y/N) (y/l/n)”

“Listen to the roar of that crowd! Crystal Palace won't have time to score another goal.”

“Not that it would help besides tying the game; excellent save on Man City's part.”

“Yes, well- Wait, somethings wrong on the pitch… it looks as if the goalkeeper is down.”

“Well, they are holding their eg in pain; perhaps they tore something.”

“Medical has come out to assist her off the pitch… They are taking them off the field on a stretcher.”

“ Hopefully, it's not too serious.”

The alarm next to your bed buzzes to life next to your bed, on the table it sits on, raising you to some form of alertness as you reach over and smack it before rolling onto your back, staring at the ceiling, and letting out a heavy sigh before looking back at the clock, 5:25 am—a routine you had set in you for long before now. With one last sigh, you kick the warm covers from your body and force yourself to brace the cold that is your new and albeit bland Richmond flat. You look around the room and check your phone for any new notifications. The same ones you have yet to clear from old friends and family, sending you hundreds of messages you'll never open.  There's no point in removing them, but it is far too late to respond to them. Dropping the phone back onto your bed, you head out of your room to your tiny kitchen. 

The entire flat was small and bland, much like your bedroom was; it's not like you moved many things into this place, just the basics of what you would need. It was meant to fit one person, and you are one person. Walking to the stove, you grab the kettle and fill it with water. Then, you walk to the fridge and grab an apple from the bottom. Taking a bite out of it, you look out the adjacent window. The city was dark because it was still so early in the morning. The street lights were still lit, causing a gentle fuzzy yellowish-orange glow on the rest of the world; it had rained the night before, so the reflection of the light bounced in the puddles and water droplets that hung off the windows. It was peaceful and quiet. You used to enjoy the quiet time of early morning; it let you get your thoughts together. You liked it less now; being alone with your thoughts leads to thinking about things you found unpleasant. 

Finishing your apple and tea, you head back into your room and to your wardrobe to get dressed. 

Getting dressed in plain black joggers and matching black shirt, you grab crisp white trainers and some socks before putting them on, grabbing your phone before walking to the bathroom to brush your teeth and pull your hair up and out of your face, holding a white baseball cap to match your shoes. Checking the time, it was 6:07. Normally, you would leave for the Man City Club House at this point, but that was three years ago, and you couldn't kill the habit of wanting to be training early this morning. You may not be a pro footballer anymore, but you could still go for a jog, correct? You head out of your bathroom one last time, shutting off the lights as you go, grabbing your watch off the bedside table as you pass it to head towards your front door. At your front door, you hold the keys and work bag you'll need for this next chapter in your life. Slinging it over your back, you head outside, looking back at your new flat, and give it a rueful smile before locking the door and putting your headphones in to provide you with something to listen to on your morning run. 

I don't wanna let it pass through the pressure in my head

I don't want to marinate in it, in it again and again

And if I let it into me, I get a rod in there, and it's gonna ring through me again and again

Half of me is melting away. Half of me never goes away, away.

Your run takes you through all of Richmond; you've always felt the best way to visit a city was by planning a jogging course and taking that run every day. The only difference was Richmond was going to be your home now. You would have to change up your routes every so often. Still, that thought gave you something to be happy about as you smiled to yourself as you managed to jog into the car park of your new place of employment. AFC Richmond Football Club. Checking your watch, it was 8:05, which is still early for your first day. The car park was still pretty empty, with a few cars here and there, a grab bag of luxury and economy class type cars; knowing how male footballers are, you knew most of those sports cars belonged to team members. Heading inside, you head straight to your new boss's office. Jogging up the posh stairs, you stop to take your headphones out before the office door, smoothing your jumper and adjusting your hat. Taking a deep breath, shaking the jitters out. 

Were you nervous? Fuck yes, you were, are, and probably will be for a while. This wasn't just some new club owner; you could handle the old men who owned some clubs. This is Rebbeca Fucking Welton. One of four women in a position of high power in football, a gorgeous woman who could ruin your career and take your husband, and you'd apologize to her. Her divorce didn’t change your view of her, and you wanted to impress her; besides, she hand-picked you to be the new nutritionist for the team. Though you still were quite unclear as to why she had picked you. Sure, you knew football; you played all your life, your brothers played too, and your dad- well, you didn't like thinking about your dad and football. Even after your injury, you still tried to be present in football, became a registered dietitian, and worked for several footballers independently. Maybe word of mouth hit Rebecca's ears, and she felt the team needed someone to keep them on a decent diet? Who the hell knows? 

Shaking your head, you let out a deep sigh before shaking the jitters out of your whole body. Then, knocking on the ajar door before you, you hear a clear voice, like the Bells of London, chime out, “Come in.”

Stepping into the office, you look around; it's a posh office, very sleek and minimalist, the windows overlooking the pitch, but what really caught your attention was none other than Rebecca Welton, with her platinum blonde hair and her perfect work suit she wore in charcoal grey and her strong jawline. There also is another person sitting in a chair across from her. The man who had been all over the news, Ted Lasso, looked like what you’d seen on the table, with a warm smile that reached his eyes and definitely reminded you of an uncle in the best way possible. Your focus was broken when Rebecca raised an eyebrow and called out to you once more.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Her concern was polite, but it didn't matter; you kept your boss waiting for your response.

“Sorry, I was just observing; you have a lovely taste in decor.” You chuckle awkwardly, rocking back on your heels ever so slightly, hands jammed into your pockets and balled up as you let out an awkward “so…”

Sensing the absolute thick fog of anxiety, Ted slapped both of his knees with a midwestern ‘welp’ and stood up and turned to you with the happy smile he seemed to always be wearing before speaking to you. “Well, as much as I'd like to stay, I do have to head downstairs and make sure everyone makes it in, but later, you should come to my office. Come in and know me better, man!” Ted tried to imitate a British accent towards the end of his sentence. Still, it failed as he couldn't beat his own Kansas accent, tipping an imaginary hat as he got up and headed towards the door. 

“Alright, ghost of Christmas present,” you retorted just before he got out of sight. All you could hear was “Yes! They got it!” before a loud ow and what sounded like possibly running downstairs to catch himself or the tumbling of a body. Honestly, you were unsure you wanted to tell the difference for this coach.

You sat across from Rebecca, who, unfortunately, or fortunately, was enjoying the biscuits that Ted had brought her since it was ‘Biscuits with the Boss’ time. Clearing her face and desk of any crumbs, she clears her throat and ensures she has finished her biscuits before speaking. She smiles at you ever so gently. “I'm so glad you accepted the invitation (Y/N). Our PR mastermind has been trying to get me to hire a ‘life coach’ for the team, but none of them know football the way you do, dear.” she stands, “did you want anything to drink?” she asks you as she walks to get tea for herself.

“Yes, please,” you realize you hadn't had too much to drink after your run, as the last time you stopped to get water was a while ago; yes, you had your water bottle, but you drained that of its contents a while ago. Looking at the bookshelf behind Rebecca's desk brought a small smile to your lips, seeing all her achievements on the shelves and the books. Looking over your shoulder as she offers you a glass of water, you provide a soft “thank you” and take a sip before speaking. “I've seen Keeley on Instagram and Twitter, and  I have seen the team's social media presence since she took over, and I’ll admit she's done wonderfully.” You give a kind smile before clearing your throat, “So you want me as the dietitian for the team? Do you have a list of things for me to keep in mind or-” 

“Oh nononono, as this is a newer addition to our clubhouse, I feel it most important for you to get to know the boys and learn about them yourself. Of course, I understand setting up diets for twenty people is quite a lot. Still, you'll have the coaching staff to help you, and hopefully, the team will be quite flexible to help you, and you’ll have Leslie to help you with anything you need as well.” She gestures to the door where one Lesslie Higgins, who wears a brown tweed suit and a tan and maroon striped tie with a beige button-up shirt, makes himself visible to you, enters the room, and offers a hand to shake. 

Shaking your hand, he politely smiles at you before looking at Rebecca. “I can show her to her office if you do not mind.” 

Rebecca shakes her head as she returns to looking at some information on her computer. " That would be lovely, Lesslie. The team should be out on the pitch now as it is.” She looks so incredibly focused on her work that she doesn't even notice when you and Higgins exit the office and head down the stairs together. 

Higgins gives you a detailed tour of the clubhouse and the team's history over the years, looking at the history of the clubhouse and nodding as Higgins imparts you with many tidbits of obscure soccer knowledge you'd pocket in a mental file somewhere for a rainy day. Higgins also showed you where everything was, from the locker rooms and medical rooms to the training room, the bathrooms, and even the copy room. He showed you everything you would need for your job in great detail. The only thing you two had missed on your tour was the pitch. However, you didn't mind too profoundly. Your tour ended with Higgins holding the door handle to one last room, and he cleared his throat before adjusting his tie with his free hand. This concerned you, and you raised an eyebrow, watching this jovial older man seem nervous about opening a door that you assumed was an office or corridor. 

“Right- before we go in, I must warn you that Keeley, ah yes, the sweet woman she is, might have gone a tad overboard when making sure you had everything you would need to feel comfortable. If she did, please don't hesitate to ask us to remove or exchange items."He had yet to look back at you as he fumbled with his key ring before unlocking the door to this space; when he did, he slipped in, shutting the door in your face. But not before reopening it for you with a nervous smile. Letting you step inside to the ample space. 

The space you had stepped into was a large state-of-the-art kitchen. It reminds you a lot of the ones from the American Hells Kitchen. The floor was nonstick sleet linoleum, and the light grey walls and the counters were all stainless steel. Still, they had built-in appliances; this kitchen had not one, not two, but three fridges, and you assumed equal freezer space. And you had suddenly become a woman who had five ovens in your kitchen. If it wasn't for the fact that this was your workspace, you'd just be living in your new office. Then you noticed all the kitchen gadgets linked up on your counter space, blenders, stand mixers, hand mixers, hell, even a bread maker, all in a neat row on your counters. Could you even call them yours? The semantics of the matter would have to wait as you finally cracked a small but visible smile. Walking through the kitchen and checking every cabinet for its contents. Whoever came before you was organized, but you knew this setup wouldn't work for you. You pull a notebook from a small compartment in your backpack that sits at the small of your back and a pen from the same pocket and start writing down notes about the kitchen. Engrossed in your work, you had failed to notice Lesslie leaving and leaving the key with you. 

After looking everything over in your kitchen space, you decide to head to your actual office; it was a small room right off the kitchen, with a window to see into the kitchen. It had a desk, bookshelves, and a desktop for you to use, not personalized to your taste but standard practice, and that was fine enough for you. You set your backpack down in the chair and open it, pulling out your things. You had cookbooks and recipe cards to put up on the shelves, cords to plug in so you didn't steal your home chargers, and the small but important things to get through the day. But the most important things you'd brought from home were two picture frames that you put on either side of your computer. 

The photo on the left was from your childhood, and you and your two siblings were in the photo. Both of them are in their secondary school kits and taller than you. You stood in the middle of them with a broad, slightly toothless grin. All three of you holding a football in your hands. Your kit was covered in dirt and grass stains, as were theirs; it was the first day that all three of you had a game, and your parents couldn't have been any prouder. Your sibling's numbers are their favorite numbers; yours is 13. The other photo to the right was from your debut season. You played as a goalkeeper sub for Man City in your debut year, number 13, and it's still your number. You had come to thrive with 13 as your number; people found it unlucky. Unlucky thirteen people used to say, but that was until they watched you play. It became fast learning that Man City's opponent was unlucky if you played keeper. 

Reminiscing, you failed to notice that anyone was in the kitchen as it was closed off to the rest of the world, but jumped violently at the knocking at the doorframe, “jesus-fucking-shit!” you turn to see who was at your door. Still, it was none other than the coach Ted Lasso, his eyes wide with panic, probably from scaring him by scaring you.

“I didn't mean to startle you there. (y/n) thought you heard me, though if you swear that much, I'm sure you and Roy will make fast friends.” He smiles at you. His recovery was smooth enough to make things less awkward. “Can I come in?” he asks, gesturing to your office. 

“What? Oh yeah, yeah, come in!” quickly trying to steal your racing heart, you drop your bag to the floor and sit down in the chair across from Ted, who looks like a labrador looking at his owner with a treat. Calming yourself, you sigh and put on a polite smile. " Hello, Coach Ted. What can I do for you?” you ask him to settle into your chair.

Ted gave a soft ‘oof’  as he let himself fall into the chair across from you and crossed his right knee over his left, holding it in his hands and looking off into the distance before looking back over at you with that Ted Lasso smile you've learned well from the internet, “well first off I wanted to come down and say hello and introduce myself again before you are fed to the wolves. so please just call me Ted” he chuckles at his own little joke before continuing, “secondly I wanted to apologize for scaring the bejesus out of you, you jumped so high I thought you might be a cat!” 

The concern made you laugh; you'd think he'd seen them jump from being startled, or maybe it was the goalkeeper phenomenon that all goalkeepers jumped in strange ways to protect their goals. Still, you shake your head in response, “I'm fine, Coach Lasso- I mean Ted, I'm sure this won't be the last time I get startled in my corner of the world. And I appreciate the concern about meeting the players, but I'm sure I will be just fine.” 

Ted makes the face that can best be described as the dad equivalent of ‘OK, bud, if you're sure’ before setting both his feet on the ground, smacking his knees aggressively, and hoisting himself up and out of the chair. " Welp, if you're sure about that, how bout we go for a walk so you can meet them?” He heads towards the door and holds it open for you. 

You sigh, forcing yourself out of your chair. It's not that it was comfortable, but it gave you the relief of being off your feet for the first time in a few hours. “Sure, why not?” you head out the door, following Ted towards the locker room. Ted stops you outside the locker room before stepping in and returns a few moments later to find you looking at your phone. He waves to catch your attention before waving you in with the excitement of a toddler. You roll your eyes and pocket your phone before walking into the locker room where every team member is sitting in their locker cubbies; most decent, a few people topless, but no one was in a towel. You walk to the center, where the other coaches stand in a line and wait. 

“Now, alright, everyone. This is (in) they’re joining us as the team's new dietitian, like Jenni Craig but better. So you guys need to let her know all your diet things so they can help you be the best you can be. Do you all understand?” Ted introduced you to the team, but they just seemed more confused by who Jenny Craig was, and honestly, you were a bit too. 

A coach to Ted's side, with a beard and wearing polarized sunglasses leaned into Ted's side. " They don't have Jenni Craigs, Atkins maybe.” With that comment, everyone on the team nodded and let out a collective ‘ah’ of agreement. 

However, you did hear a scoff to your right; in the number 9 cubby sat a man who was probably, if not your age, definitely younger than you. The name above 9 was Tartt. Oh yeah, you knew who this was, Jamie Tartt; he used to play for Man City, was on loan, got shipped back, and then shipped right back to Richmond. You had never met him personally. However, you'd heard from others that he was less than delightful to deal with on a good day. However, that scoff was short-lived when a man standing near him smacked him upside the back of his head. Eliciting a hiss and an “ow, what was that for?” 

The man was fit, physically muscular, had a black beard and bushy eyebrows, and wore a coach polo. You knew immediately this was Roy Fucking Kent; you’d have been stupid if you didn't know who this man was or if he was born in the last five to six years. And you were neither of those things. He was not having any of the young striker's behavior and glared down at Jamie, “shut it, Tartt,” he snapped at Jamie before turning his attention back to you. Still, his stoic, frowning face stayed the same. 

Ted looked at you and gestured to the team, “Do you have anything you want to add? Anything at all?”

You shrug and look around the room, taking in each of the team members' faces. You'd memorize them eventually, but that wasn't the point of today. Clear your throat and readjust your shoulders, squaring them back and holding your chin high. Confidence is key when dealing with people you don't know or need to convince. “Names (y/n), I'm your new diet coach; I need an updated diet form; I'll send that out in an email by tomorrow morning; I need it by Wednesday to do orders. It's simple, I need your allergies, preferences, and restrictions. If anything changes, please try to tell me as soon as possible. I don't make a habit of killing my clients.” You knew it wasn't the most admirable introduction, but you were not the nicest woman either. You think briefly before remembering something important, turning to the coaches. “Kitchen is off limits to the team now if it wasn't before; if you need something from the kitchen, message me.” with that, you head for the door. “Cheers,” you wave before walking out of the locker room. 

The locker room sits in stunned silence before everyone turns to Ted, and an amalgamation of voices hits Ted like a load of bricks before he raises his hand and raises his voice, “Hey! One voice at a time, I'm not the Complaint whisperer; that's Nate's job. Now, what's got all your ducks out of their rows?” 

“They seem like a very knowledgeable coach; where did Ms Welton find her?” Sam asked with a raised hand so that he would be noticed.

“Probably the internet; that is how most people get hired in this economy,” Jan states from beside Sam. The others around him nodded in agreement, but a few tried to shush him. 

“they seem fucking cheery, but as happy as granddad over there, fit though, ain’t they?” Jamie snickered, leaning back into his cubbyhole. He and a few others close by laughed at his comments as well.

Standing next to Coach Beard and Nate, Roy frowned before Ted smiled at the team, “Welp, you heard them. Ensure you promptly respond to their email, or you might end up on the menu.” His words fell on primarily deft ears, and with that, the coaches walked into the office. Roy shut the door behind them, and the locker room returned to its chaotic, chatty atmosphere behind them. 

Ted plopped himself right down into his chair and stretched his arms up in the air before looking at the three other coaches, who looked right back at him with a dumbfounded look; all Ted could ask was… “What?”

“That's all we get. What?” Beard asked, putting his sunglasses on top of his hat. The boss hires a new person, and all we get is a what?” he asked before crossing his arms in his chair, leaning back as far as it would let him before falling backward out of it.

“Well, I don't know what to tell you guys. I just met ‘em this morning in Becca's office before practice. They seem like nice kids to me, honestly. Oh, but don't sneak up on them. When I spooked them earlier, they looked like Shaggy and Scooby getting ready to run away from a scary monster.” Ted looked to Nate and Roy for their input. Roy scowled like usual, and Nate nodded in agreement and understanding.

“Of fucking course they are- are you fucking stupid?” Roy pinched the bridge of his nose before putting his free hand out to stop Ted from responding, “Don't answer that. I already know the answer to that. Thats, (y/n) fucking (y/l/n)” seeing the deer in headlights look both coach Beard and Ted are giving him he lets out an exasperated sigh looking to Nate for some sort of assistance on this explanation. 

“Oh-ah yes! Um, (y/f/n) they used to play for Man City about three years ago, but they retired due to a torn ACL at a finals match a few years ago and used to be an all-star goalkeeper. Also called unlucky 13 for a time,” Nate jumped onto the shelf behind him and crossed his arms, “a bit surprising that Ms. Welton would try hiring them even for a dietitian position.”

Ted's eyebrows rose at the mention of your former nickname, “because of their injury or before that?” curiosity in his eyes.

“Before that,” Everyone else in the room responded in unison. 

“But it's not all that surprising; we've been missing someone to ensure everyone can eat healthy; young boys like that will eat whatever they want. Especially if they aren't being monitored,” Beard said, looking back into the locker room where the team, now unattended by the adults, was mucking about. 

Ted nodded before getting up, “Welp, I will see you gents on the field, but I've been summoned for girl time in the office.” He pushed in his chair, waving his phone around as if to show them the text, “Now, if you'll excuse me.” With that, Ted left the coach's office, leaving the other three coaches confused and shaking their heads in disbelief. 

Ted headed down the halls and bounded up the stairs before knocking at Rebecca's office, peeking his head around to make sure that people were inside, with his goofy smile, “knock knock.” 

Rebecca looked up from the sofa she and Keeley were both sitting on, looking at something on Keeley's laptop, and she waved Ted in quite frantically, “Keeley, put that away. We will watch those later."

Keeley whines in annoyance, “Fineeee, but I want to watch more of them when we are done.” She closes her laptop, turning to Ted with a smile on her face. " Morning, Ted! What did you think of them? I think they are pretty stellar!” She is now leaning forward, her arms propped up on the arm of the sofa and her chin resting on the back of her palms.

Rebecca lets out a small chuckle, seeing Keeley's excitement about your employment, before clearing her throat: " Yes, that is why I brought you up here. I wanted to ask your opinion on (y/n). Based on my very little interaction, I don't fully understand them even if Higgins also gave me a report of his own.”  She adjusts to sit with one leg over the other, expecting Ted's praise or lack thereof. 

Ted nodded before leaning forward in the armchair, in that deep-thinking sitting position he was well known to do before looking between the two women in the room. “Welp, they seem straight to the point, I think they’re just not comfortable yet. If we give them a few weeks, they will be busier than a bee in spring and sweeter than the honey from it.” 

His analogy was lost on the two women sitting across from him before Rebecca cleared her throat, “Right, yes, well… with that in mind. I wanted to discuss something with you, Ted, and Keeley. I would also like your input on the matter.”  Rebecca had this glint in her eye, where she had something purely devilish up her sleeve.

Keeley looks over, adjusting herself to fully face Rebbeca, and nods thoughtfully, or as seriously as she can manage: " Absolutely, what are you thinking?”  before smiling, seeing how serious Rebecca looked.

Ted nods, gesturing towards the space in front of them. “Floors yours, boss,” he gave her an encouraging smile. 

Rebecca smiles a devious smile. “What I am proposing doesn't leave this office until we are ready to put it into motion.”

You had spent your entire afternoon doing tedious paperwork, sending out the survey email to the team, looking at cookbooks former staff had left behind,  and double-checking the incoming order that would be arriving on Wednesday. Your afternoon was peaceful, being able to be by yourself and acclimate to your new environment. During your time in the kitchen, you found it was basically soundproof, so you could listen to whatever you wanted, and no one would know or even care. You had your music turned up for most of the day and listened to anything that could and would keep you distracted from thinking. 

Finishing up your daily task list, you check the 5:30, a respectable time to leave work. Grabbing your bag, pack away anything you need to take home, like notebooks and order information. You look at the two pictures on your desk as you zip up your backpack and nod to them both. Standing up and putting on your backpack, you head out of your office and ensure the kitchen and office lights are off before locking the door behind you. You head towards the door and car park before you hear your name being called from overhead. 

“(y/n)!” Standing there was Keeley, waving frantically and smiling. " Where are you goin’?” she asks as she runs down the stairs that lead to Rebecca's office. You hadn't ever met Keeley in person, but you'd seen her on Instagram and knew that she and Jamie Tartt dated at one point, but anyone in football knew that. You were not expecting Keeley to hug you very aggressively, much like a koala holding onto a tree.

You tense at the contact but relax quickly and return the hug, albeit awkwardly. “Hello, Keeley. Is this how you greet everyone you meet for the first time?” You blow her hair slightly out of your face, your voice strained from the hug. 

She quickly lets go of the hug but still tightly gripping your shoulders and smiles, “No, but I've been so excited to meet you, but your office was locked, so…” she pouts slightly at the fact you had unknowingly locked her out. “No biggie, though! If you don't mind me saying love, your fucking fit! Your parents must be fucking gorgeous!” 

You let out an awkward chuckle, avoiding eye contact. “Thanks. I'll be sure to inform my dad you said so. Sure, he loves that.” Sarcastically, you roll your eyes. " But to answer you, I'm heading home for the night. I have a lot of research to do.” You manage to get yourself out of Keeley's grip somehow. 

“That's perfect! I'm heading home too! Did you drive? If not, I can give you a lift!”

You put your hands up, shaking them in a no gesture, “I didn't drive, but there's no need; my flat isn't too far from here.” it wasn't a lie; yes, your run was two hours, but that was nothing for you, and moreover, on purpose. Besides, the sun was still up, so there was no excuse for needing a ride. However, the pout on Keeley's face tugged at your moral compass, “Tell you what? If it ever rains, I'll let you drive me.”

Keeley's eyes lit up excitedly, and she let out a little squeal before hugging you again. “Oh, that sounds grand! You'll have to give me your number, or I'll message you on Instagram. You have one of those, right? " She started digging through her bag, looking for her phone. Once she found it, she began to type. 

You nod, “It's (y/n)unlucky13.” You look down at your shoes sheepishly. When was the last time you said that out loud? 

Keeley hums in response before tapping a button: " And done! I followed you, so now I can message you!” She looks at you and offers her arm to link with your own to walk outside. “Shall we then? Get our last glimpse of the boys on the pitch?” 

You instinctively link arms with her and walk outside the car park lined up to the pitch. The two of you walk to the fence and watch the team doing the last bit of practice for the day. Keeley watched with the same eagerness as a small kid. Looking over at her, you smile before returning to the field. Your arms crossed, resting on the fence, and your head resting atop them, you watch in personal silence. You study the field, watch the goal, and look at everyone's movement. It wasn't long before the team headed towards the dugout for the end of their days. You stretch and let out a groan of relief from your stretch. 

Keeley smiles, “Well (y/n), have a safe walk home.” She heads to her car, but before leaving, she rolls her window down, “See you tomorrow (y/n)! Send me your coffee order!” And with that, she is gone.

You stood there incredibly dumbfounded; how could someone make such fast friends with everyone? Was she now your friend? Actually, you liked the sound of that. You missed being surrounded by peppy people. You adjust your backpack and start your trek home for the night. Richmond in the evenings was not too much different from the morning. You passed children coming home from school, passing footballs as they went. Couples walking hand in hand, young and old. Parents running errands with their children. It reminded you of before. When you did this before in Manchester. You shake your head to force the thoughts out and return to your flat at around 6. You unlock your door, remove your shoes, and set your bag on the kitchen table.

Your phone buzzed suddenly, and you looked down to see a text from Coach Ted. You don't remember giving him your number, but you opened the message. 

Ted Lasso

Hey Doc! Well, actually, you're not a doctor, are you? Calling you chef seems odd, too. I'm going to stick with Doc. Anyway, we are glad to have you. I think you'll work wonders for the team. Have a good night!

You reread the message repeatedly, whipping your eyes as tears rose, and put your phone back in your pockets. You decided you had no energy to cook, so you ordered some takeout. You worked on building a new diet regimen while eating your own meals into the late night hours. You looked over your phone, unlocked it, and decided not to leave Ted on read. 

Thanks, Coach Ted; if you're gonna call me Doc, I'm calling you Coach. 

You press send, clean up your food, and put your work back into your backpack, only to hear another ding from your phone. 

Ted Lasso

Alright, Doc, have a good night!

You smiled, looking at the time. It was after 10, which was late, even by your standards. You shut the lights off in the kitchen and head to your room, changing into shorts and a t-shirt before brushing your teeth and brushing your hair from your hat hairstyle. Walk out and stare out the window before crawling into your bed, plugging in your phone, and watching. You check your phone one last time for the night and open Instagram to send Keeley a DM. 

Hey, here's my order. 

You attach a photo of your preferred drink and its modifications so it's easier to order in person. You put your phone down on the bedside table, missing the heart reaction Keeley gave your message. Hunkering down in your blankets, you let out a sigh of relief, and for the first time in a while, you felt your shoulders relax, your jaw unclench, and your muscles unclench. You drifted into a restful sleep for the first time in over three years. 

Moving to Richmond may be good for you.

[choccy-milky]

(SPOILER WARNING to people who haven't read your story) I SWEAR to GOD!!!! This is borderline anon-hate with my current state of mind after finishing The Raven and The Snake over this weekend. I finished it in two days. I'm a mess. I've even started making a playlist because I feel like I can't properly enter reality again. I'm supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis right now,,,, what have you done to me!!!!

I loved it so so so much, and I am very mad I cannot have a collectors edition hardback version of it on my shelf. There are many many moments that keep replaying in my head, and scenes that I saw so vividly when reading through it. The first imperio moment and Sebs shadow and imperio-green eyes as Clora was held captive, and the entire scene in the repository and how I was physically shaking as I slowly realised that Seb had made a fucking horcrux, and when it was CONFIRMED the GASP i GUSPED. It was so perfect, and so very Sebastian; because OF COURSE he made a horcrux (lowkey hot, sue me).

And the scene where Clive realised Seb straight up just died for his daughter without knowing he would be back, oh my dear lord.

And the idea of Seb being seen as a 'Ruffian' and that little mamas boi bitch of a Henry thinking his hand-me-down-riches, muggle ass would be preferable to a powerful wizard. I secretly wished they didn't have to keep magic a secret so Henry could have known just how inferior he was. AND SEB APPARATING SO FAR UMPH the skilllll.

I could go on and on and on, and maybe I will some other time in your inbox when I have another mental breakdown.

And now I'm also almost done with the small sequel. Just taking a break to bombard you with this unhinged message of mine. And how you draw Sebastian is so fucking good. It's actually what got me reading in the first place. I see your version as being in a completely separate universe from the game, cause the way you draw him just has that something, and it's not the same anywhere else. It certainly doesn't help my obsession that my own boyfriend has the same features and colour palette as him, now I think I might even use your art as inspo for next time we need wardrobe additions.

I love you and I hate you.

Ps. Of course I added Sarah Smiles to the playlist and also Far too young to Die, and Just One Yesterday. If you've any other songs you think match please let me knowww~~

BRUHHHHH I ALMOST FEEL NARCISSISTIC FOR POSTING/RESPONDING TO THIS ASK BC ITS JUST PRAISE BUT DAMN THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭😭IM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!! FORGET WRITING YOUR BACHELORS THESIS, TY FOR WRITING A THESIS ON WHY U LOVED MY FIC SO MUCH AND ALL THE LIL THINGS U ENJOYED BAHAHAHA (love the henry slander) im also glad u like how i draw seb too, and i love how thats what made u start reading it in the first place BAHAH but fr, sometimes i try drawing seb more accurately to his ACTUAL appearance and then im like... Who The Hell is this... and it may sound arrogant since im the artist but my seb is MY seb, yknow...its why i dont like drawing him with other mc's romantically. bc even tho its like, oh look, that's Sebastian Sallow™ from the hit game Hogwarts Legacy™! in my style if i draw him with another MC, its like, NO!!! THATS NOT SEBASTIAN SALLOW™, THATS CLORA'S HUSBAND🤺🤺THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOI??🤺🤺🤺 LMAOO but rly TY AGAIN💖💖💖 not only for reading but also taking the time to write all this and let me know how much you enjoyed it🥹🥹i (and all writers, really) always love getting stuff like this!! it also brings me back to when i was writing it, especially now that ive been finished with my fic for a few months, listening to u react to all the diff scenes is making me miss it and giving me nostalgia for my own damn fic FRRR😩 also i love that youre making a playlist LMAOO thats how u know the brainrot truly has a hold on you IM SO SORRY🙏🙏 i actually made a seb and clora playlist like last year and its somewhere in my ask tag if you look through that?? but one song that i can recommend off the top of my head (which i almost made their anthem in that OTP chart) is arms tonite by mother mother...whenever i listen to it i cant help but laugh to myself bc its SO perfect for the chap where seb sacrifices himself....YOULL SEE WHEN U LISTEN😇💖

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part six

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

the songs in this chapter are: "scared of my guitar" by Olivia Rodrigo, "Michigan Cherry" by River Whyless, "Traveling Song" by Ryn Weaver, "Slim Pickins" by Sabrina Carpenter, and "Adore You - Acoustic" by Maisie Peters !!

a/n: ahhh hi it's my birthday! super excited to share this with you guys even though it isn't all that special or exciting but i'm just happy to be back :). last year for my birthday i posted in this life or the next and i wanted to finally get part 3 of that up today but that just wasn't going to happen BUT for everyone asking i am working on it. i swear. i'm not giving up on it!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

You thought that you might have heard somewhere that music is to the soul as opium is to a stubborn cough.

Or, maybe you dreamt that. Regardless, you knew for certain now that it was bullshit. But, with nowhere else to place your heartache, you found yourself sitting by a fire nearly every night with your guitar in your lap, humming soft words under your breath and plucking the strings as gently as you could.

It was for work, yes, but like opium, you had long since become addicted to the routine. Billy had too.

"You can play a little louder, y'know." He hums, tossing a broken twig into the campfire that separates you. "I was promised music in exchange for my services."

"And you get your music." You chuckle, hand pressed over the strings to stop their hum. "You haven't missed a show in almost two months, that ain't enough?"

"Sure, I'm just sayin' don't hold back your practice on my account. I'm happy to listen again." He answers with a soft smile, the yellow glow from the flames warming his features and bathing him in light.

You can't help the matching twitch of your lips to return his, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks that you can't confidently attribute to either the fire or your own blushing. "Well, it ain't much to listen to yet. Not finished."

"Ah, somethin' new?" Billy asks, leaning back on his palms and watching you expectantly as you give him a slight nod.

You're leaning over your guitar to scribble in that little notebook of yours, the pencil almost nothing more than a little nub in your hands and the pages of the book almost filled to the brim with words and notes. The temptation he faces every day to just grab it while you're sleeping or out away from the camp on a little walk has become an almost unbearable curiosity.

Because yes, he loves the songs you do sing, but what he wouldn't give to hear the ones you don't.

Billy would dive at any opportunity to see just a little more into your beautiful mind.

"Yeah, kinda." You hum in response, distracted again by the strings of your guitar effectively wrapping around your heart and your fingers and dragging your attention back to it.

"Okay, then, let me hear what you have so far."

You hate doing that, normally. You would hardly even play incomplete songs for your family when they were around- that awkward moment where you just have to trail off and go "Um, that's all I have..." and try to laugh but not too awkwardly was something painful.

But, this was Billy. Something about him compelled you to agree.

The problem was, the song you were currently meddling with the idea of may or may not be about him. You'd like to confirm with yourself that no, it is not about Billy, but damnit- he's the only person in your life. What else were you meant to write about?

You look down at the pages next to you, narrowed eyes reading over your own writing.

'Perfect, easy, so good to me. So why's there a pit in my gut, in the shape of you'-

Nope, nope, no. He's not hearing that.

You could deny all you wanted that the unfinished song was about him, try and claim to yourself that it was about Max- but deep down you knew the direction it was going.

You flick through the most recent pages, trying to spark your memory of something safer.

'Tart and sweet like a wild berry Tart and sweet your words to me Dark and red like a Michigan cherry Dark and red as the Iliad sea Here we lie in the deep night ready Here we lie, our skin is bare'-

That's definitely not going to work either. Your cheeks get somehow hotter and you clear your throat, flipping the page again.

Okay, this is much better.

"Like I said, it ain't done, so... not much to it yet, but..." You say, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes as you quickly scan the new page again and position your fingers over the guitar strings.

Billy gives you a steeled nod, sitting up a little straighter ready to listen as if he would be a judge of the quality of your music. It was a joke, you both knew it. He knew he couldn't come up with a critiquing word toward your music if he was held at gunpoint and forced to try.

"Nobody knows where they are going Oh, how we try to wrap our minds Over the edge of all our knowings Be it a bang or the divine Tip of my iceberg blues are showing I've never been one for goodbyes So, 'til I meet you there, I'm singing A traveling song to ease the ride And so you know, everywhere I roam I'll see you on the road."

Your voice is steady, focussed on getting it out rather than dwelling on the meaning of the words and Billy could tell.

"So farewell to my friend, He who taught me to love like a beast And to feast like the queen that he fed turtle soup Little boy from Paris to the States, check the facts That was Magical Max He was black sheep and mischief and love for his craft..."

His heart leaps at the little laugh that falls from your lips at the memory of your friend, your fingers slowing their strum to a steady halt. He doesn't expect you to continue, but you do, your smile quickly fading again back into an attempt at indifferent focus.

"Then he told me that I was starlights that shine On that very last day, he said "Shoot for your dreams, little girl, to the stars" Well, I'm taking you with me Now this one is ours and I know what you'd say you'd say "On with the show!" So on we go."

How embarrassing it is to almost cry singing a song that isn't done, for your best friend who would never live to hear it. Whose memory deserved to be shared. It wouldn't get very far if you couldn't even share it with one person; if you couldn't even stomach finishing it.

"Um, so... I'm not sure about chording for that last bit, or honestly the lyrics. I think it feels better without the guitar, but..." You say quickly, focussing yourself on your book and pretending to scribble something in it just so you wouldn't have to look at the boy sitting across the fire from you.

"I think it's perfect." Billy tells you, a softness to his tone you only had the pleasure of hearing once in a blue moon.

What he meant to say was that it's beautiful, that it's a flawlessly fitting tribute that he felt lucky to hear, that when sung by an angel's voice like yours he didn't doubt for a second that your friend Max had heard it from beyond the veil and loved it too. Even unfinished.

None of that was what came out though, essentially awestruck the way he always was at your shows- but this time he was able to actually speak to you after hearing it instead of just clapping, whistling, or if he was lucky, catching your gaze with a smile and a corny thumbs up that told you he thought you were doing great. Not that you needed it.

"Thanks." Your sweet voice replies, watching him for a moment you determine to be too long before your focus is back on the notebook next to you. "Anyway, um, if you want to hear something else unfinished, this one I think is going to be kind of funny."

"Show me what you've got, then."

Billy simply couldn't resist anymore.

Sitting absentmindedly on a hay bale in a barn where a local owner was gracious enough to let the two of you stay, that damned notebook seems to be glowing right in his face from the sunlight streaming through some bullet holes in the wood paneling that made up the side of the stable.

It's taunting him, he's sure of it.

This stare-down has been going on for about ten minutes since you left it out on the ground next to your guitar to go use the homeowner's washbasin to clean up when his wife offered- you weren't going to turn down a bath that wasn't in a creek.

That would probably take you a while though, you'd likely savour it, so he could just take a look. You'd sing him pretty much anything asked, and what could possibly be more vulnerable than that song you wrote about Max that you shared with him a couple of weeks ago? Surely you wouldn't mind all that much. On the off chance you ever found out. Which, of course, you wouldn't- because he would put it right back where it was after just skimming it.

It's not Billy's fault your handwriting just looks so pretty and you're a poet without publication privileges- it would just be a waste if no one ever read your pretty musings written oftentimes to no one.

And still, he convinces himself again, that you would never know.

He gets up and studies the book to make sure he could put it back down at the right angle before picking it up, hands gentler than they have ever been- like he was touching his mother's precious crystal vase, a wedding gift that had been long lost to time in several moves across the sea and then the country.

He opens the notebook and immediately he can see how you've grown since this book was first picked up by your delicate hands. How your print has changed from beginning to almost end, the pages all wrinkled from spills and humidity and time.

How lucky, he thinks, to be chosen by you for this journey of your life. Why does he feel so much camaraderie for a book?

He skims the pages, delighted to see that it isn't just full of words but drawings too; the sweetest most delicate doodles of little things like your guitar or a flower here and there squeezed in amongst the words on the pages. The amount of talent one young woman could possess astounded him, it's shocking that it doesn't drip out of your every pore in the very black ink that you use to write. 

He can't help smiling a little to himself as he reads the scrawled titles and lyrics to songs he recognizes and he can practically hear your beautiful voice singing every word he's already heard.

'A boy who's nice that breathes- I swear, he's nowhere to be seen.'

That was the funnier song you sang to him those odd weeks ago, and just remembering the small laugh that fell from your lips as you sang the words makes him chuckle too as he reads it.

You had told him you wrote it with Sarah, and he could tell- based on the two distinctive styles of handwriting squeezed onto the small page.

He begins to realize as he flips through the pages of the small tattered notebook resting in his lap, that you had been dating the pages. Finished songs had dates of beginning and completion going back a little over a year, and he figures this must not be the first one you've gone through.

Billy comes to the near back of the notebook, as much as he would love to spend all day reading every word you'd ever translated turning your life into poetry or ballads of melodic storytelling, he knew his time was limited.

One song in particular catches his attention, though.

'So high that I am floating, So good that I'm out of my head. So low baby I was hurting, you made it better again.

Oh, we got caught in a moment, and I'll lay with you all night. So good that now I'm hoping you'll hold me down for life.

I adore, I adore, I adore you.'

The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile as he reads the words, scribbled out and rewritten several times in some places.

It's unfinished, but dated to have been started a couple of weeks ago. He remembers you had asked him what the date was that day, and saw you write it down as he answered- your hair falling over your face and brushing your shoulders as it shielded the book from his view.

A couple weeks ago.

And the drawing- oh, how his heart flutters in his chest so quickly it feels like his ribs have transformed into a sparrow's cage.

To Billy, it looked like him. He knew he must be thinking crazy, after all, it had been a while since he had had a proper look in a mirror, but it sure felt like he was right now- down to the little feathers on his hat and the shape of his cupid's bow. You had given yourself away with the scope of your artistic faith.

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of your voice, slightly hesitant as you stand in the entrance to the barn, he slams the book shut and jumps just about a foot in the air; a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"N-nothing! I just, it just- um..." It was still clutched in his hands, already weary of parting with the precious object of your affections. "It, um... It fell, and I- I just picked it up, and-"

When he looks up at you, you look mildly horrified; cheeks burning the same way his are and eyes blown wide like you had been the one who was caught doing something wrong.

Neither of you move, both frozen on the spot, terrified of the next words that might fall from the lips of the other.

You weren't about to incriminate yourself by asking in a shaky voice if he had read or looked at any of it, knowing he did, and he wasn't going to ask if that song or any others he skimmed (and wish he took more care reading) were about him like he hoped they were.

After a moment of staring at each other like both of you were hostages with guns to your head respectively, you both decide to make the first move at the exact same time. He quickly holds the book out to you at the very moment you reach out to take it, and the awkward exchange makes you want to curl up under the hay bale you were meant to sleep on and rot there.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[thewriterg]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

pairing(s); billy loomis x gn!reader, stu matcher x fem!reader, billy loomis x stu matcher

summary; what was better than going to a graveyard at the hours of pitch black darkness to take pictures with your boyfriends? —flufftober day;7—

word count; 900+

warning(s); reader being graveyard etiquette police as you should, fluff, suggestive jokes, kisses, pet names, and language

playlist; mg1 by machine girl

A/n;—GIFs; @crhrrtbeanie & @murderofravens— stole the title from my favorite video game ofc

“I'm getting the… heebie jeebies” You rolled your eyes at Stu as you walked in between him and billy walking up to the gate of your local cemetery and you were sure you heard Billy huff for the fifth time in twenty minutes as you held a bouquet of deep red roses against the black velvet of your dress you bell cape sleeves dropping down to you cover the green stems of the bouquet Billy climbed the gate first a little grunt resting on his lips as he made it over making sure to bend his knees when he dropped to the floor

“Your turn princess, help her over idiot” Billy stated before hissing at the blonde who playfully pouted at him in response

“Be nice.” You whispered sternly at the brunette as he grumbled something under his breath holding his hands up to catch you Stu suddenly swept you off your feet quite literally causing you to gasp slightly at the quick movement shaking your head with a smile on your face as you watched him whistle while looking around trying to hold the smile off from etching itself on his face but soon your position was changing once again now your knees placed on the blades of his shoulders

“Oh babe I should take my shoes off” You winced at the thought of your heavy platform boots being planted into your boyfriends skin listening to the sound of protest leave his throat as he held onto you thigh to keep you from swinging them off his clavicles

“Ive took a knife to the shoulder one chase these are nothin’ kitty” The blue eyed boy reassured a goofy smile on his face that was practically permanent there as you sighed nodding your head before you carefully placed one foot on each shoulder pressing your body against the fence looking ahead as the moon set over the graveyard

“The view looks so nice, the pictures are gonna be great” You decided talking to no one in particular a small film of fog falling over the place

“Maybe, but I got a real good view right here” You heard Stu whisper looking down to see his head covered by your black floor length dress jabbing your foot into the side of his neck digging into his jugular as he hissed at the sensation Billy chuckling at the sight while you swung you leg over the gate before hopping down into the brunettes arms who caught you with ease setting you down gently giving you time for you to steady yourself as you checked over the roses that were gratefully uncrushed

Stu was next his lanky figure making it easier to get up and over the fence without much difficulty and soon you all began to walk along one of the trailways the crickets chirping gently for some of the last times they will this year until spring rolls back around but that was then in this is now you tugged the long sleeves of your boyfriends sweaters making your way into the grass being careful to not to step on and head stones embedded into the ground the grass crunching underneath your boots

“Think right here is good moon is set” Billy stated camera hanging from his neck as you nodded holding your bouquet looking around until a cross shaped head stone came into your line of sight you approached it paying a silent respect to the dead before turning around to face the boys

“STU! Watch your step!” The blonde slightly flinched at the sudden noise apologizing gently making sure to not step on any imbedded porcelain as Billy postponed the camera up to his eye taking a canon photo of you before attention averted back to him at the sound of the fluttering shutter before poking your leg from the split in your dress, cradling the roses with your ring covered fingers, staring dead at the men in front of you with a small smirk on your face

The brunette let out a low whistle the sound of his camera going wild while the blonde quickly clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth repeatedly making sounds with his mouth watching as you struck different poses each one leaving him starstruck with hearts in his eyes

“How do I look?” You questioned after a while now situated on the grass you back lying against the greenery and your knee propped up towards the sky skin glowing under the moon the darker makeup enhancing your features

“Sexiest vamp i've ever laid my eyes on”

“Please step on me”

You giggled at the praise it enhancing your confidence as your rolled your hand down you body and Billy was sure your the memory card would be full by the time he was done but it was a key piece taking up storage after all

After about an hour you took all the pictures you could and now you hummed setting down one of the last of you dozen roses on the last headstone you came across before you walked up towards your lovers pressing a kiss on each cheek leaving your mark on both of them as walking ahead with a smirk

“You guys coming or are you gonna keep standing there? You'll be dead by daylight”

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[yourfellowhuman07]

Hello, my fellow Entrapdak shippers!

I am happy to say it is once again time for Entrapdak Positivity Month, a fandom event created by the always lovely @maireadralph, who works tirelessly to put on all the major events, zines, and is currently running the Entrapdak Community here on Tumblr.

Now, like last year, I have decided to make another Ask Game for those who don't plan on drawing or writing anything but still wish to participate in the event this year.

The game is simple, just open your Ask Box and reblog this post so fellow shippers can ask you one of the questions I have written for this year. I will also link the Ask Game from last year if anyone wants to answer those (I know I'm willing).

Now without further ado, the questions:

What were Entrapta and Hordak’s first impressions of each other?

Who fell first, and who fell harder?

When and what made them realize their feelings for each other?

Who proposed first and how did they do it?

What’s the first Human/Our World AU that comes to mind when it involves Entrapdak?

What is the worst take on Entrapdak you’ve ever seen/heard?

What part(s) of their relationship made you fall in love with the ship?

How long have you been shipping them for?

Which of Hordak’s various designs throughout the series is your favorite (Season 1/2, Season 3/4, Season 5, or the flashback design in the finale)?

What is one thing they don’t like about each other that they can look past?

What is an interest/hobby they each have that you have no evidence for, but you know in your heart they love?

What is a weird crack headcanon you think about for fun?

What would happen if Entrapta joined the Horde before she was offered to join the Alliance?

What does Hordak wear now that he is out of the Galactic Horde?

What kinds of movies/TV shows/books do you think they like?

If you have/hypothetically had a playlist for them as individuals and/or as a couple, what is/would be on it?

For my writers and imaginers, what is an old story idea you had about or involving Entrapdak that you abandoned?

What was Hordak’s reaction when he met Wrong Hordak?

In your mind, what happened to Entrapta’s parents?

What was (x character)’s reaction to finding out Entrapdak was a thing?

How long did it take for Entrapta and Hordak to get into a relationship after season 5?

Who’s the most likely to tell the other about their feelings first?

How do you think Entrapta’s hair works (Robotics, Genetics, Magic, etc.)?

 What type of music would they listen to?

Who’s bringing the stray animal they found on the street home?

What do they find the most attractive about each other (besides their mutual intelligence)?

 What, in your mind, is Hordak’s punishment, and how does he feel about it?

 Could you tell me about any potential kids they might have?

 What’s something random you wanted to talk about regarding Entrapdak?

Your own SFW question?

And for those who would like to use it, Last Year's Ask Game:

[nonclassyparty]

tins without labels - chapter 1 (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba)//click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: drinking, little bit of kissing, descriptions of erm...male genitalia? cursing, cringe fest you've been warned. !word count: 9.3k taglist: @maru-matt @yawnzshit @mcsalterego @ddaeing @downbadreading @btshook (sorry if i forgot anyone but pls reply if u want to be added!)

previous chapter

(chapter 1; when we feel each other up)

Got different people inside my head, I wonder which one that they like best, I'm done with tryna have it all, and ending up with not much at all

present time (21 and 23 years old);

There was a really ugly drawing framed and hanging on the wall at the doctor's office.

It was a house tilting to one side with three stick figurines whose shoes were far too big next to it with strokes of green thrown everywhere which you presume is supposed to be grass. It was drawn by crayons.

You presume it's an art piece made by the doctor's kid but you hope she realizes early on that her daughter or son doesn't really have a proclivity for the arts.

But then again, maybe they will later on. Maybe they'll stand out amongst their peers and be further encouraged by their parents. Maybe they'll even take private lessons to get better. Maybe they'll get into art school and have the professor praise them up on how their talent is extremely rare. Maybe they'll even win some awards.

And then, maybe someone will break their hand so badly that they never get to hold a brush again.

Alright, now you were just projecting.

But what else is there to do as you sit in the almost sterile office with your dad by your side as the doctor keeps going on and on with a somber expression on her face. You're sure Doctor Son is a nice lady, if you were paying attention you'd maybe notice that she tries to break the news extra gently but you're barely listening.

There's been a lot of "it was more serious than we first thought", "rehabilitation will be a long and steady process", "a new excellent physical therapist works at the sports center on campus so she'll be able to visit him a couple times a week, we've already made sure that he gives all of his attention to her" and the most gruesome one, "another even minor injury and there's a risk of her not being able to walk again."

You don't really have to be paying too much attention to know what the underlined thought is.

No more football.

The persistent ache in your left knee serves a constant reminder of what happened almost four months ago, it was the last game of the season. Little did you know it might be the last game of your measly career.

You refuse to look at your dad, feeling the sadness radiate off of him like it does every time he speaks to any of the doctors you've visited in the past four months.

And it's been a lot of doctors.

The fact that you spent the whole summer at home for the first time since you finished high school didn't help. All he did was coddle you and stare in pity and disappointment. Or try to be overly positive and enthusiastic about your recovery.

You didn't know which was worse.

After the final doctor's appointment before the start of the new semester which you leave with barely saying a word during the almost half an hour you're there, you and your dad get lunch at a dinner just off campus.

The thick holder containing scans, blood tests, surgery papers and whatnot, lies on the table between the two of you and you feel like nothing could cut through the thick silence.

Your dad, of course, tries.

"You can still have an amazing career in education, you know? Your mother was a teacher and she loved her job."

It's just sometimes, your father really doesn't know how to beat around the bush and in this moment, you wish he did.

"Right." Is all you say.

Neither one of you comments on what you both know. Which is that you didn't give a fuck about your major in education. Sure, you had passing grades but that is because you needed to study something to stay on the team and not because you were actually interested.

Football was always the bigger picture, the real goal.

"You can always switch majors?" He offers and you nod again, thanking the waiter when he brings two bowls of noodles to your table. 

You don't want to say that switching majors in your third year of college seems like a complete waste, of both money and time.

He sighs and you know he's frustrated with you, you understand it as well but you can't control it. Talking about your career, now that your dream career is over and done with, is an extremely sore subject.

"You know what, you've been working so hard since before you even started college, you deserve to rest."

"I've been resting since May." You respond and he winces at the mention of May. When it all fell apart.

"That wasn't rest. It was recovery." You give him a bland look and he sighs again, "I'm just saying! Maybe you'll discover something else you like to do this semester."

"Doubtful." You murmur, the reality finally sinking in at least a little.

"It's not doubtful at all." Your dad scoffs, taking a slurp of his noodles. "You're twenty-one, your life just begun, I'm sure there are other things to do and new people to meet. You wouldn't know if you never even tried."

"Dad-"

"Get yourself a boyfriend. Go to parties. Find yourself some friends who aren't talking behind your back in the locker room-"

"They weren't my friends-"

"Live your life. Is my point. Don't be cooped up in your bedroom, refusing to see anyone like you were doing the whole summer. Just...try, at least." He is silently begging now and now, it's your time to sigh.

"Fine."

"Who knows...you might discover that football isn't all there is to life."

You go silent at that, embarrassed of your own thoughts on the matter so you just keep them to yourself.

-

You flip through the pages of the magazine that you've read front to back at least four times by now before throwing it on your bed.

Your dad left earlier this afternoon after you've settled into your dorm and since then you've just been lounging on your bed, trying to busy yourself with knick-knacks that you have lying around so the time could pass faster.

You adjust the ice pack on your knee a bit better and with a soft sigh, your eyes fall on your roommate.

Yunjin was sitting behind her desk that was pushed up right next to your identical one and was busy doing her makeup. Carefully applying a pretty shade to her eyelids as she moves her desk mirror to her liking.

She was getting ready to go to a party no doubt. It was the last Friday before the new semester after all and Yunjin was a frequent party goer from what you could tell in these years living together.

Yunjin and you have been roommates since freshman year and yet, you've barely spoken to each other. Always sticking to your sides of the generously sized dorm room, you guess it's because you don't have much in common with each other that you never tried to be friends.

You didn't know much about her if you were honest, just that she majored in political science, often dyed her hair and had a lot of friends. You were sort of the complete opposites from what you could tell.

But since she kept renewing her contract for the room with you every year, you think it's safe to assume that she at least doesn't mind you all too much.

Just...try, at least.

You clear your throat. Here you go...

"You, uh, you do your makeup really prettily." It's out of your mouth before you know it, you already feel awkward as it is but when your red haired roommate turns to you in surprise that maybe you even spoke in the first place - the awkwardness triples.

"Oh." Yunjin utters with raised brows before a tiny, careful smile settles on her face. "Thank you."

So...now what?

You both stare at each other for a long hard second and you hesitate, thinking it's best to leave it at that. Keeping up a conversation was never your strongest suit either. Now that you think of it, apart from football, you don't have any strong suits at all.

"I, uh, I had a lot of practice." She offers awkwardly, motioning to her face with the eyeshadow brush wedged gently between her fingers.

"Right, yeah, I can totally see that." You nod, surprised that she responded back with something that almost sounds like she wants the conversation to keep going. You clear your throat, "The eyeliner and stuff, seems tricky."

It seems like that was all it took for the ice to disapparate for Yunjin because next thing you know, she's rambling without a plan to stop;

"Oh, that's just at the beginning, the first couple of tries I mean and that goes for everything makeup related or, hm, maybe everything life related as well, wow." Yunjin shakes her head as if life philosophies were certainly not more important than a perfect winged eyeliner, "But anyways, I was looking like a panda for the majority of my junior year in high school." She chuckles at that, not looking embarrassed at all, "Had those thick eyebrows as well, it was a complete disaster. But the longer I wore makeup, the better I got at it and the more I learned what suited my face."

You clutch the pillow in your lap as you diligently listen to her, feeling like a younger sibling watching her older sister get ready for a party. 

"People say eyeliner isn't in fashion anymore, like it's an old makeup trend or whatever," Yunjin rolls her eyes at you and you chuckle lightly, shyly because you had no idea what was in trend, "Such bullshit, I'll never stop wearing it. It looks so good on me."

She observes the perfect thin wings decorating her eyelids and almost sighs a little in admiration.

You nod in agreement, not being able to stop yourself, "You have big eyes so the eyeliner frames them perfectly. It suits you."

Yunjin smiles happily, "Right? I totally look like Jihyo from TWICE, right?"

You hesitate, having no idea what Jihyo from TWICE looked like but you don't have the heart to sway her happiness so you just give her a small nod.

You continue to chat, mostly Yunjin talks, and by the amount she seems to have to say to you, you start to think that maybe all this time it wasn't that Yunjin avoided getting to know you because she wasn't interested in knowing her roommate. It seems like she had the idea that you had no interest into getting to know her, so she never bothered.

Once she's done with her makeup and she looks over herself in her precious small round mirror standing on her desk in satisfaction, she turns to you with a glare.

It's not a glare as if you've wronged her somehow but a glare of curiosity and seemingly not taking 'no' for an answer. You raise your brows.

Her glare deepens, one inquisitive but perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Oh," You huff out, for some reason embarrassed that she's aware you're a complete klutz in that department, "I don't know."

"Hm, why not? You might like it. Makeup is fun!" 

"No, I know I'll like it." Your cheeks flush, embarrassment growing at the thought of her thinking that you're one of those girls who thinks she's better for not being interested in makeup. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. "I just...won't I look stupid?"

"Stupid?" Yunjin frowns as if the idea is ridiculous and maybe it was a little. "Why would you look stupid? I'm basically a pro at this, I wouldn't let you look stupid."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything about your...y'know, skills." You grimace when she continues to stare at you, not really in the mood to disclose that ever since a stupid teenage boy named Son Eunwoo laughed at you at prom for trying to look pretty that you've given up on it as it obviously didn't suit you all that much. "Just, y'know, people will think I look silly if I wear it. It's not my thing...y'know?"

There's a faint moment of silence and you cast your eyes somewhere else as you feel awkward all over again for ruining the relaxed mood. Finally, Yunjin speaks,

"Y/N," She calls quietly, face set in a serious expression when you bring your eyes up to her again, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

You blink at her a couple of times, mouth parted as she sits in her chair, perfectly curled hair and perfectly applied makeup, and waits for your response.

"I'll go wash my face."

"Yes, you go do that and don't forget to moisturize."

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for Yunjin to do your makeup. Before she starts, you carefully tell her you don't want too much and she says she'll ask before everything she applies if you want it or not.

And she really does.

She places a little bit of foundation just to cover the natural redness of your cheeks and the couple of small pimples that appeared on your chin. She foregoes contouring because you tell her you don't want that, not sure what's the purpose of it. 

She goes a little bit crazy with the eyeshadows though, maybe she notices that you have the most interest in them. Glitter especially. It makes your eyes look glossy, almost wet but you're sure you're not describing that properly.

She even does some thin eyeliner on you, some mascara, brushes out your eyebrows but doesn't fill them out because you tell her you don't like them looking sharp. Some blush, a pretty light orange color that decorates your cheeks in a way that it surprises you by how good it looks on your face. And at the end, some lip gloss to finish everything off.

All through out, you two talk. About school, about your hometowns, about your parents.

It's bonding, you realize. 

You never bonded with anyone through makeup before, it was usually over football with Ryujin or gossiping over the people you knew from school because that's what you had in common with her. But football is gone now, so is high school and for years now, so was Ryujin.

It was hard to keep up with a friendship that was out of necessity in the first place, even harder when there's an entire ocean separating you now.

But with Yunjin, although you seemingly have nothing much in common, the conversation just flows with each soft stroke of a brush or pat on the cheek.

"See!" She hands you her round mirror to look at yourself, "You look so good!"

"Oh," You muse out, staring at the reflection, admiring the glitter and shimmer and all the colors you're not used to having on your face, "I like it."

"Now, don't get me wrong!" She warns quickly with her hands up, painted nails glistening under the shitty dorm lights, "You look good without makeup too. Well," She rolls her eyes at herself, "You obviously know that since you don't wear it at all as it is but like, if you sometimes want to wear it, you'll know now that it won't look stupid on you."

You chuckle shyly at her short rant, placing the mirror back on her desk. 

You wished Yunjin's words of affirmation would be enough to rid you of all your insecurities regarding makeup or...anything 'girly', they don't but you don't have the heart to tell her that. "Thanks."

She nods in response before checking her phone for the time apparently. She throws it on her bed before clapping her hands, "Well, since you already have your makeup done, you might as well go to this party with me."

That leaves you stumped. You turn to look at her from the chair in front of her desk. Party? "Wait, what?"

Yunjin doesn't even grace you with a look, standing in front of her closet which was flung open as she sorts through different materials and patterned clothes.

"Come on L/N, brush your hair out and get into a pair of jeans that make your ass look great." Her head peaks out from behind the door of her closet, she winks at you, "I'll worry about your top."

You really don't know how this happened. You don't know how you ended up here, in the jeans that hugged your hips and thighs the tightest and in the most preposterously skimpy top you have ever worn with your brushed out long hair falling over your back and your lips tinted a deep glossy red. You were a willing participant in it but you really have no idea how this happened.

"I don't think this is an appropriate outfit." You tell Yunjin as you look over yourself in the tall mirror which you both share. "I don't think this shirt is supposed to be worn like this."

"Actually," Yunjin said as she fixed her skirt in the mirror behind you and paid no mind to your ongoing breakdown, "For the last three months I thought I got scammed by the online shop I ordered that top from because it looked nothing like the photos on me but now looking at you, I'm starting to realize that the online shop is legit and that I simply didn't have the tits to fill it out."

You spluttered about at her commentary as you stared at the outfit, wondering if it would be rude to chicken out on her now.

Your light blue denim flare jeans and white sneakers looked totally acceptable. They were yours after all. 

The shirt, the offending bright red sleeveless low cut crop top that almost had your boobs out completely for the whole entire world to see, on the other hand, was certainly not.

You don't think you've ever worn something so short, so tight, so...revealing. In your life.

It's not even that you felt uncomfortable in it, really, you thought you looked hot but it just....wasn't You.

And at that point, you had to remind your self very strongly that you had no idea what You actually was. Football was no more (at least for the near future but you have an inkling it's for forever) and maybe the you that was tied to it and that the rest of your small world knew should rest for a little bit while you explore what other you's are there.

Beats moping around and feeling sorry for yourself, at least.

Yes. You will try your hardest not to care what anyone else might think tonight. You looked good. Sexy as fuck, as Yunjin said.

It wasn't all she said. Yunjin, as you begin to find out in the last hour you've actually spoken to her, is the best when it comes to making a girl feel good about herself.

"God, Y/N, your body is crazy." You hear her say as she pulls your hand away from your stomach that was bare since the skimpy shirt or jeans didn't cover it. She stares at your abs. "Do you still workout?"

Still. Meaning she also knows you're a retired athlete at only twenty-one years of age. Once again, you have to try your best to not let that reminder dampen your mood.

"Thanks." You respond clearing your throat, giving her a weak smile. "Yeah, I workout five times a week."

You don't mention the physical therapy you're about to start next week or the fact that all your workouts are under strict supervision ever since the injury happened. That, starting from next week, two other people will be responsible of you staying in shape.

It's so pitiful, you're so used to doing everything on your own.

"Five?!" Yunjin's jaw drops before she scoffs, looking at her body in the mirror with overly critical eyes.

Yunjin seemed to be naturally on the skinnier side, she didn't have any muscle built up. Not like you, years of doing football made your physique change, your body looked amazing - you were aware of that. Personal trainers, coaches both male and female told you so at least....'Defined thighs, defined stomach, toned arms...'. You heard enough about your body to know that it looked good.

It took years of sweat and regular gym hours to make it that way though and you feel bad that Yunjin seems to be comparing it to her own.

"When I was in my best shape, I had a whole team of people working with me from diet to workouts, that includes my coach as well." You chuckle lightly, as she turns her eyes from her stomach to you, "Everyone was expecting me to go pro so...The university invested a lot in me."

You force out another laugh, not trying to turn an attempt to stop the comparisons into a pity party. "Even now when I won't be playing, I'll have two people working with me."

When all you get in return is a dumbfounded stare, you groan feeling like you read the situation incorrectly. Your social cues still need some catching up to do.

So, there's nothing left to do when you feel so uncomfortable but ramble and it's what you do best, you will be quick to learn.

"This is stupid, I don't know if that's what you were doing and I'll feel like shit if I say it but ended up assuming it wrong but I'll say it anyway just in case; if you were comparing yourself to me, don't, I had professionals working with me for the past three years. Professionals that are extremely expensive and finished schools and shit to learn how to make people look hot and fit, so...." You trail off, avoiding her eyes at all cost and scratching behind your neck awkwardly.

The silence is so long that it almost wills you to run out of the room and maybe ask for a permanent roommate change, just to beat Yunjin to the punch. Instead, you hear a stifled giggle.

You glance at her just to see your roommate bite back a grin.

You huff, cheeks turning red from the embarrassment because you barely speak but when you do, it's really almost always complete and utter shit, as you try to hide your own smile.

"You're a nice girl, Y/N."

"Yeah, yeah." You huff, always terrible at taking compliments, "So are you, I guess."

She snorts at your awkwardness but doesn't further comment on it as she rummages through her jewelry box and pokes big hoop earrings on.

"And you can keep that shirt if you want...God, I hate you big boobed bitches." You let out a surprised laugh at that as she rummages some more through her jewelry box. "Do you have any earrings for yourself? I'd offer you a necklace but I think it's hotter if your neck is bare honestly."

"Um," You approach your desk and pull out your mom's jewelry box with a humble amount of items in it. You show her your tiny golden hoops, "What about these?"

"Yeah, those are great. Put those on and let's get ready to go, Chaewon might be dancing on tables by now."

As you lock the door to your dorm and turn to leave, Yunjin intertwines your arms as you both walk down the hall crowded by college students either going in or going out.

New girl friend, not so bad, you think to yourself.

Chaewon is not dancing on tables when you get there. You don't exactly know who Chaewon is but there's nobody dancing on tables in the crowded frat house you've walked into. You don't know anyone there, you thought you might see some girls from your team at least despite not getting along with them the best but you don't.

Yunjin, on the other hand, seems to know everyone.

She greets every living soul in the dusty, stuffy living room and every living soul greets her back. You guess it's safe to say that your roommate slash new girl friend is very popular with the party crowd at your campus.

As it's your first ever college party, you just follow her around like a lost puppy but she never makes you feel like a lost puppy, instead, she introduces you to every person that comes to chat with her even though you can hardly remember their names. You appreciate that more than you'd like to admit.

You end up in the kitchen which is less crowded but still has a handful of people in it where Yunjin shoves the classic red party cup in your hand and clinks it with her matching one, telling you to drink up.

At least you're not a complete virgin in this area. You drank before, you weren't an expert or anything because alcohol is limited for athletes but still, it's one of the first 'not first's of the night.

You meet Chaewon who is bubbly and cute with her bob and sparkly eyes. She's not nearly as drunk as Yunjin led you to believe she would be. When you comment on it, Chaewon smacks Yunjin's arm jokingly.

"You've made the girl think I'm an alcoholic or something." She scolds your roommate with a smirk before turning to you, smile back to complete innocence, "I don't even drink that much, Y/N. Honest."

Yunjin comes closer to mutter in your ear, "She's a liar, it's just that she's trying to be sober to see if the guy she's into comes alone tonight."

"Oh!" You nod and give Chaewon a reassuring smile as she goes beet red in the face and glares at Yunjin who continues to tease her.

You were about to tell Yunjin that you much prefer the crowd in the kitchen than the living room area and that you'd hope to stay here a bit more but you don't get a chance to.

 Loud hoots echo through the kitchen and you turn your head to see what the ruckus is all about only to see the bane of your very existence walk in with a wide smile along with a group of other guys, greeting everyone like he's the king of the world and with the way everyone in the room treats him - he might as well be.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would be considered the life of the party.

He can be! You don't give a fuck! But why did it have to be the first party that you are attending.

You try to hide your scowl by taking another sip of your drink, trying your hardest not to let your eyes trace his movements from the other side of the kitchen island but one second your eyes are coasting over his ridiculous outfit (which he looks damn near scrumptious in but that's besides the point and something you will never admit that you ever thought about for even a second) and the next thing you know - his eyes are meeting yours.

You quickly whip your head to stare into the living room, feeling the edge of the counter dig into your back.

Yunjin and Chaewon are talking about something, laughing loudly through the noisy room and you're trying to hard to keep up with their conversation but that turns out to be impossible now that you're aware of a certain menace lurking about.

And lo and behold, quickly enough he skulks away from his group of friends and sneaks up to your side in three long strides.

"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me or is this Y/N Y/L/N at a frat house party?"

You stand rigid as his clothed elbow brushes your bare one but otherwise don't give him any further acknowledgement. Yunjin, from your freshly learned discovery is ever the social butterfly, grins with an eyeroll.

"Don't be a dick, Wooyoung."

Oh. Oh.

Yunjin knows Wooyoung. Well, that makes just about everything a thousand times worse.

"What? I didn't say anything." Jung Wooyoung defends with a smug smile from next to you before giving Chaewon a charming (or at least what might be charming by some people's standards, definitely not yours or anything) smile. "Chaewon, hello."

She stifles a laugh, "Hi, Wooyoung."

You're irritated to the highest degree for some reason.

Why were you never on the receiving end of his charming smiles? Again, charming by some people's standards. Let it be known, it's not by yours. Not that you want to be on the receiving end of any kind of Jung Wooyoung smile but just...why aren't you ever?

"Can't believe you two managed to get babyface over here out of her room for once." He comments and for a second you have no idea who he's referring to. Until Chaewon laughs lightly again before motioning towards Yunjin.

"That's all Yunjin. I just met Y/N, actually."

"Lucky you." Wooyoung adds and only after his second mischievous glance do you realize they're talking about you.

"Babyface?" You turn to him, growing outraged as his lips stretch into a wide grin. What is it with him and these weird nicknames which all contain the word 'baby' in them. What happened to calling you a troll like he did in middle school and moving about his night?

He shrugs, "I reckon it's better than crybaby."

"You reckon?" You scoff, not being able to stop yourself. Not even a full minute with him and you're already showcasing the gnarly childish side of yourself to girls you were hoping would become your friends. "Wow, how many years of college and you're finally using big words, Jung."

Wooyoung, for reasons you could never wrap your head around, looks positively delighted at your quip. "If you think 'reckon' is a big word then I have no further comments, Y/L/N."

You flush a deep red at that as a glare fully sets down on your face, aimed entirely towards him now. He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing which only makes you grow redder.

"So, you two know each other?" You forgot for a split second that the two of you were in the presence of your new friends. Yunjin stares at you with brows raised.

With a solemn sigh, you respond, "We were neighbours."

"We still are." Wooyoung adds, cozying up to you further. You watch in contempt the way his shoulder brushes yours and his arm lays on the kitchen island behind you, one wrong move and his arm would be around your waist. Seriously, why is he so damn close?

To your own embarrassment, you find yourself not moving away, liking his warmth and whatnot. Maybe, he smells nice as well. Just a little bit. Something citrusy and delicious. Whatever.

"Oh?" Yunjin asks, looking awfully too interested in your relationship with Wooyoung. Not that there is a relationship. Your brows furrow as you observe the way she silently communicates with Chaewon.

"What?" You ask, lost entirely. 

Chaewon gives you the same, overly enthusiastic smile, "Oh, nothing."

Wooyoung's chest shakes against you from silent laughter about something you must've missed and you turn to glare at him. He didn't do anything, you just felt like it.

A couple of minutes of conversation pass and you find yourself even enjoying it, despite the little nuisance stuck to your side. It's been awhile since you hung out with anybody, you never thought you even needed it but you think you understand now the hype around these college weekend hangouts.

Until it somehow dips to Yunjin and Chaewon ditching you.

"Y/N, remember that guy Yunjin was talking to you about? The one I have a crush on?" You nod as Chaewon talks against your ear, "Well, he just got here and Yunjin and I will go say hi to him."

"Oh, I'll come with!" You say pathetically before Yunjin loudly exclaims "NO!"

"No, Y/N, you stay right here with Wooyoung, okay?" She motions to the guy next to you, "You two seem to have so much in common!"

She's giving you a weird smile, overly wide, overly excited and you have trouble reading what she's trying to tell you, not knowing her nearly enough to be able to read girl code already.

You can barely get a word in and they're already gone, whisked by the living room crowd and you're stuck with Jung Wooyoung of all people by your side, feeling completely and utterly stupid. 

They...ditched you? Did Yunjin regret inviting you? Did she find you embarrassing? Maybe you should just go home.

A deep sigh is heard by your side and you're once again reminded with who they left you with.

"Y/L/N, they didn't ditch you. They don't hate you or whatever it is that you scrambled up in that big head of yours, they're trying to set you up with me." Wooyoung lazily explains from your right and you turn to look at him like he's crazy. What surprises you more than his statement is the fact that he's actually sticking by your side.

"What? Set you up with me?" You scoff, crossing your bare arms over your chest, "Don't be ridiculous."

He snorts, "You'd rather think they ditched you than trying to get you laid?"

You go silent at that. Laid. How preposterous. How insane and how ridiculous.

It's another thing that you're a complete virgin to. Literally and figuratively. You've never went with a boy past a clumsy make out session. Get laid, you scoff inwardly, how silly.

Suddenly, you're aware of a pair of eyes on the side of your face and you're not surprised to find Jung Wooyoung staring at you in amusement. With all your defenses up, you ask, "What?"

His eyes twinkle with mirth. "I didn't say anything."

Another moment of silence between the two of you passes. Some guy comes to greet Wooyoung, he gives you a small nod in greeting which you return and after some small talk between the two of them he walks away, leaving you two alone once again in the middle of the semi-crowded kitchen.

Wooyoung inches closer to you again, mirroring your stance now by leaning against the island with his back. "Is being alone with me that scary that you refuse to talk?"

"Scary?" You scoff again, it's all you seem to do in his presence, without even looking at him. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Jung, you're not nearly as intimidating as you like to think you are."

"Who said I thought I was intimidating?" He asks calmly, enjoying the way you're riled up for no apparent reason.

You don't answer his question, aware that you're being a bitch for no reason. But it's his fault if anything, years of juvenile fights made Jung Wooyoung bring out the worst in you.

"These parties don't seem like they're all that." You comment, more to yourself than anything but he's obviously listening so you decide to include him in the conversation. "Don't you get bored of them?"

Wooyoung hums from next to you, lightly swaying to the music from the living room as he hands you a cold cup of...something and takes one for himself as well. It feels weird that he actually is sort of attentive by getting you a drink when he noticed your empty cup on the island. You decide not to dwell on it too much.

"Bored? Not really, they get repetitive but there's always something fun to do." He responds, mouth quirking up as he looks down at you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips just in time for his tongue to swipe across his bottom lip. You look away quickly.

Clearing your throat, for the life of you, you have no idea why you nod to a couple in the corner right next to the kitchen almost having intercourse against a wall. "Like that?"

Wooyoung snickers and you feel yourself flush slightly but you blame it on the drink which is...much better than whatever Yunjin handed to you at the beginning of the night. "Don't blame people for having fun, Y/L/N."

You turn to him with your nose crinkled, "That's your idea of fun?"

Wooyoung seems a bit surprised and yet strangely intrigued by the course of the conversation. Maybe you are too but in this moment, it feels all too exhilarating with him being so close and you being a complete and utter virgin and all. God, if Chaewon and Yunjin left you here in hopes of getting you laid, maybe they were right.

There's no reason to be acting like this around Jung Wooyoung.

Honestly, what is wrong with you Y/N? Maybe you really should fuck someone. You'd stop thinking about Jung Wooyoung this way and lose your virginity at last.

Two birds with one stone.

"I know lots of ideas of fun." Wooyoung starts before he gives you that devastating grin of his that you despised even as a lovesick teenage girl as he subtly nods to the couple, still at it in the corner, "That is one of them. Although I'd at least take it up to one of the bedrooms upstairs."

Your nose crinkles in disgust again at the thought of the state of the beds in these dirty testosterone filled frat houses. "Gross, they probably don't even change the sheets."

"My apartment is two blocks away." Wooyoung adds, a little too quickly in your, once again completely virgin, opinion. "I always have that option as well, y'know?"

You blink a couple of times, staring at the kitchen tiles as you start thinking that you're not talking about his ideas of fun only anymore.

Was he-? Is he trying to-? No. No way. Do not.

"Right." You say quietly, taking a tiny sip of your drink before smacking your lips.

There is no way that in any shape or form Jung Wooyoung is attempting to flirt with you. 

He's quiet for only a couple of seconds before two other guys approach him, doing those weird half hugs half handshakes that assholes like Jung Wooyoung use to greet their friends. Which he seems to have a bunch of. Mr. Popular he is.

While they converse, your eyes are still stuck on the couple making out in the corner of the room and to not seem like a complete and utter creep, you draw your eyes away from them into the living room where...all you seem to see are couples.

Flirting. Kissing. Grinding on each other (Gross). Humping on the couch (Double Gross, you're sure people use that to sit on ordinary days). Clumsily walking up the stairs with their hands already on each other's clothes (Triple Gross). They're all going to have sex!

Meanwhile, you're a virgin. Not by choice either, if it were up to you you'd grab the first guy you see right this second and let him fuck you just to get it over with. It's not like you're saving yourself for someone special or anything. Too bad that they all seem to be taken one way or another and the only guy you've spent the whole night talking to is-

Wait.

Nononono.

But-

Wait.

You turn to observe Jung Wooyoung by your side, who is still talking to his two buddies. None of them paying you any mind.

As you mentioned before, there was a general consensus going around that Jung Wooyoung was good looking. You've seen him only a handful times since that night he dropped you off home after prom even if you're both on the same campus but you can admit (although you'll outwardly deny it if anybody asks) that he has gotten even hotter.

His face lost all of his baby fat with years that went by, his jawline got sharper and lips plusher. His eyes were expressive and the mole under one of them was cute. His hair was still long, you don't know if he cut it after prom night and just let it grow out again or if this was simply the length her preferred, now all black but it suited him immensely.

He had nice hands as well. Veiny hands, long fingers with nice and tidy nails. And you might've called his outfit ridiculous but you only did it to fulfill your role as his self-appointed enemy, it wasn't that ridiculous. Just a pair of baggy jeans and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. You guess he knows that he has sexy hands. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, making sure to showcase the naturally tanned smooth skin underneath and a necklace decorating his collarbones.

This...whore. 

A man that plays up his good physical attributes this well could be nothing else but a man that gets around a lot.

When you notice that you've spent a good two minutes doing nothing but checking Jung Wooyoung out, you notice that his two friends have left already and he's holding his red cup while staring at you with an amused smirk on his face.

"What now?" He asks and you part your lips before licking them, almost shivering when you catch Wooyoung following the action closely.

Well, your dad did say that should live your life and try at least. His words, not yours!

Although when he said them, you are most definitely sure your dad didn't think you'd ever be applying them when asking Jung Wooyoung to take your virginity but what he doesn't know won't put him in an early grave.

You are twenty-one years old and among a lot of other things, you are horny. It's time to get a move on.

"I'm going to ask you something now and for once," You let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you can't believe you're about to do this before opening them to level Jung Wooyoung with an open stare as you inch closer to him to make sure he can hear every word, "Just this once, I ask of you, nicely, to not be a dick about it. If you're not up for it, just...just let me down gently. Don't laugh at me, please, just tell me no and we'll forget it ever happened."

All traces of amusement leave Wooyoung's eyes after your all-too-honest speech and he turns to rest his hip against the kitchen island to be face to face with you. He looks serious and asks quietly, "What do you wanna ask me, Y/L/N?"

You take a deep breath, feeling undeniably nervous under his heavy gaze. "Those ideas of fun you mentioned before, the ones involving your apartment...."

Wooyoung presses the rim of the cup against his lower lip, teeth gently grazing it before he takes a sip. He nods, looking a little confused as he swallows, teeth coming back to bite on the cup.

"Mind showing me?"

It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, it only takes another second for the mischief in his eyes to triple and lips placed against the rim of his red cup to stretch into a wide breathtaking smile.

-

Wooyoung had an inkling of an idea where the course of the night would take him when he first left his apartment. Have a drink or two, mess about with the guys for a few hours and maybe if he was up to it, find someone to take home.

 But this... if someone told him this would happen, he'd burst out laughing and call that person crazy. Insane. Deranged. A lunatic. 

Really, he had no idea how the hell this happened. 

This being two handfuls of your jean-covered ass in his hands, tongue shoved deep into your mouth as he pushes you against his hallway wall and swallows every tiny sound you make while your hands tug and rake through his hair.

He's pretty sure your dark red lip gloss is all over his cheeks from how messy and rushed the kissing is. Everything tastes like artificial cherries, a taste too sweet for Wooyoung's liking accompanied by a tinge of vodka and lemonade that you've both been drinking.

Your hands are soft when they run over his jaw and latch onto his shoulders, he swallows another surprisingly sweet whine of yours and slips a leg between your thighs. Embarrassingly enough, Wooyoung is already hard and once his hands slip from your ass to your hips just to feel the way you move them as you grind against his thigh - he fears he might finish in his pants.

Yeah, if at the start of the night someone told him that Y/L/N Y/N would be dry humping him in the hallway of his small studio apartment after he went out of his way to keep her company at a party, he surely would've dialed the nearest psychiatric institution to take that person in for much needed treatment.

When you reward him with a whimper that goes straight to his dick for placing a kiss underneath your ear, Wooyoung starts coating your neck in slow hot kisses and bites that leave you trembling in his arms. 

He's been (as subtly as he could) staring at the naked skin that your shirt revealed for the majority of the night anyway so, truly, this isn't much of a chore for him.

When his teeth gently graze your clavicle, he pulls away for just a moment and realizes he's finally gotten a front seat view of your tits.

Jesus Christ.

When the fuck did you become hot?

Wooyoung always found you cute at most. And fine, he thought you were pretty too that night he drove you home from your prom night. But that's where it all ended. He didn't think about you all too much in any other way given your history and barely saw you as it is.

Looking at you now...your hooded eyes that glittered around the corners. Flushed cheeks and heavy breaths that made his head spin. Disheveled long hair that fell down your back and that he wanted to tangle his fingers in (which he quickly did as soon as that thought appeared, no time like the present!). And those fucking tits covered with nothing but a sorry excuse for a shirt that clung to your torso.

Wow.

It really must be true when they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

Although there's little heart involved in this situation and a whole lot of thinking with his dick.

He pulls the thick strap of your top a little and watches at it smacks against your skin gently. You keep quiet, breaths still heavy as you watch him.

"This shirt is fucking ridiculous, Y/L/N."

No time left for talking, his fingers curl around your waist again as he bends down to place kisses against your chest. You both probably smell like smoke, sweat and booze but there's a soft layer of vanilla mixed into it the closer he gets to you and Wooyoung finds himself not minding the combination.

"I-It looks bad?"

It's the first words you've spoken since you stumbled into his apartment and Wooyoung has to pause, almost in disbelief. His first reaction is annoyance, not pegging you as the type of girl to fish for compliments by acting insecure even though she knows very well she looks delectable.

But then, the more he stares, the more he notices the way you twitch in his hold, shifting your gaze around his face in order to avoid his eyes, his annoyance disappears. You are insecure about the shirt. You are genuinely wondering whether or not it looks good on you.

And Wooyoung is nothing, if not ready to please at all times.

"I wanna drag it off of you with my teeth." He says the honest truth, hating the way his voice is low and husky. What the fuck is he doing. Why is he breathing so heavily?

The blush that overtakes you doesn't stop at your face but slowly curls around your neck and appears at the top of your chest. He hums, satisfied with the reaction he got before going back to business.

The business being your marvelous tits.

With his hand still curled around your waist as he lowers down so his forehead is basically resting on your bare chest, he groans once he thumbs over your left breast and feels a hard nipple under the material.

"Are you not wearing anything under this?" He murmurs against your skin, groaning again once he feels your fingers intertwine with his hair. Wooyoung doesn't wait for a response but roughly pulls one of the thick straps down your arm and places a hand over your naked breast feeling its weight in his hand.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He thumbs at your nipple, liking the soft moan that escapes you at the action as you continue to grind against his clothed thigh.

"Y-Yunjin said it didn't need a-a bra." You stutter out through a whisper and he places a soft kiss to the middle of your chest as if to soothe you before returning his attention to what's really important.

God bless Yunjin then. Wooyoung should remind himself to buy her that chicken sandwich she likes so much tomorrow morning.

His thumb rubs over the hard pink nipple one last time before its enveloped by his lips, tongue twirling around it and arm tightening around your waist as your breath hitches and you twitch even more in his hold.

When you let out a high pitched moan once his teeth gently graze the soft bud, Wooyoung thinks he'll send Yunjin a whole damn buffet to her dorm.

Wooyoung releases your nipple with a 'pop' that makes you groan lewdly and he scrambles to stand up to his full height to get the offending red shirt off your body.

"Off." He mutters and you quickly grab the ends of the shirt to pull it off, needing Wooyoung's help since it was genuinely so tight on your torso.

With your hair disheveled even more now and bare chest on full display, Wooyoung almost kneels down in front of you.

His dick ached.

"Oh my fucking God." He mutters, burying his face into your chest as he licked and kissed and sucked and...

"Bed." You whisper through a moan, tugging at his hair. You grit out almost bossily, "B-Bed!"

"Bed?" Wooyoung looks down on you in confirmation, body now completely pressed against yours and when he sees your wide, desperate but sure eyes, he quickly nods. "Bed."

His lips are back on yours again, hand grasping at your jaw as he pulls you from the wall and leads you further into his studio apartment. The bed was only a couple of feet away anyways.

You grunt against his lips as you trip over something and he pushes it away with his foot (it was a sneaker that fell out of place as he was getting ready in a hurry), continuing to lead the way to his bed.

"You take off your shirt too." You whisper, almost shyly which causes something warm to swirl in his stomach. He obeys quickly, dropping his shirt to your feet before pulling you in with a hand at the back of your neck, biting at your lower lip and letting out a small laugh as you gasp.

"Pants too." You add innocently and he huffs, growing amused at your bossy nature even in the bedroom.

So, of course, he'll be a little shit about it.

Wooyoung drops himself on the bed, thanking God he changed his sheets this morning, and obnoxiously spreads out his legs. He observes you with a tilted head and a grin on his face, "Why don't you take them off?"

-

You lick your lips at the request, feeling like it's awfully hot in the room despite the fact that you're not wearing a shirt. You without a shirt in front of Jung Wooyoung with your tits on full display was another thing that you weren't ready to unpack just yet.

He's beautiful.

Wooyoung's skin is a pretty color of fresh honey and you carefully step closer, between his legs, to place a hand on his firm chest and feel his velvety skin. He watches your every move with hooded eyes, holding himself up with his arms placed behind him on the bed.

There's a tattoo on the side of his ribs, one that you would never know about unless you see him like this, so you run a thumb over it in admiration. Still, you don't want to take too long at the risk of coming off as weird, so with all the bravery you can muster - your hand drops to the button of his jeans and you gently (because of your fucking knee) lower yourself down to sit between his legs.

You thumb it open and pull the zipper down, shivering at the way Wooyoung's lips part and he softly exhales in what seems to be anticipation. You further flush when you finally get to see the outline of his....well, his dick.

You felt it against your hip, when you were kissing by the entrance door but you didn't have the guts to ever look down.

When Wooyoung lifts his hips up to help you get his pants off, you realize you're about to see it now anyway.

Clearing your throat, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear all at once and pull it down. If Wooyoung notices how clumsy you are with it, he decides not to comment at least.

And there it is. His dick. A dick, first of all. The first dick you've ever seen in your life that wasn't through the screen while watching a bad porn video.

You don't stop pulling on his pants until they're pooling at his ankles without breaking stare with his...penis. 

You don't really know what you expected if you're being honest. You never thought a dick would be pretty and...it's not exactly ugly either. Just, odd looking you suppose.

You can't tell if it's either big or small as you have nothing to compare it to. Maybe average? What is considered small? You're scared what a big dick looks like if this is a small one. Or even average one. It's kind of thick though which is worrying, you don't even notice the way your lips part as you imagine how exactly is this...thing supposed to fit anywhere inside of you.

There's neatly trimmed hair at the base of it and the tip is flushed, a thick vein running at the underside of it and two-

"Uh," It's like a sound of a scratched record as you freeze, "Your first time seeing a dick or something, Y/L/N?"

Your head slowly lifts from his lap and up to his face where a Jung Wooyoung awaits with raised brows.

It's only then that you realize you've been examining this guy's dick like he was at a doctor's appointment instead of trying to get him off.

You're at a little loss of words to be honest and for a split second you're worried that Jung Wooyoung will take your stutters of "I, uh" and "Um"'s and "Uh, hm"'s the wrong way and think you're impressed by him or something. You're not, once again, you have nothing to compare it to. You barely know what you're looking at right now.

His facial expressions go a little like this in the next twenty seconds: Cockiness (that quickly fades though), Confusion and last but not least Realization.

"Oh my God, it is?!" He laughs in disbelief before his eyes grow even wider and mouth continues to hang open. He quickly places a pillow laying on his bed over his lap, to shield his manhood from the big bad scary virgin apparently, "You're a virgin?!"

It feels like a punch to the gut and you flush a deep red, already scrambling up to your feet and shielding your bare chest. While you try to find that damned crop top, Wooyoung is still rambling in the background.

"There's no way! Wow, seriously you've never had sex before?! Never?! Wow, there's no way! Wait, why are you putting your shoes on-"

You refuse to turn towards him, pathetic tears of embarrassment already welled up in your eyes and bottom lip wobbling, "Uh, I'm gonna go."

"Wait, what? Why?" You hear shuffling behind you and you assume he's trying to get back into his jeans.

You quickly slide your second sneaker on and are flinging the door open, not looking back. "I have to go. I'm sorry, bye."

"Sorry? What are you- Will you just wait a fucking second for me to put my clothes back-" The door falls shut and you're stalking down the hallway of the apartment building, trying to get as far away from his door as you can.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What were you thinking? Kissing Jung Wooyoung, going home with Jung Wooyoung, doing anything with Jung Wooyoung. What were you thinking?

You cry only a little when you get back to your dorm. Really, it's only a little, just a couple of flimsy tears. 

Then you scrub the makeup from your face and change into your pajamas. Yunjin still isn't back and you're angry at her too, for bringing you to that party in the first place. For leaving you with Jung Wooyoung as well.

You're angry and embarrassed. And on top of that, you're horny too.

Why did Jung Wooyoung have to be such a good kisser? Why did his hands have to feel so nice? Why was he so beautiful?

You huff, buried deep in your sheets and all ready to go to bed but sleep just isn't coming. You're too busy thinking about the guy you've sworn not to think about at all anymore.

It was going so well these last two years.

With another huff, you cover your face with your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs.

He tasted like lemonade.

[hrtbreakanniversary]

Secret Love Song | Sung Hanbin

And nobody knows I'm in love with someone's baby I don't wanna hide us away Tell the world about the love we making I'm living for that day, someday

summary: afraid of having attention on herself from dating the school's most beloved, y/n y/l/n hides her relationship with sung hanbin. pressured to keep this act up, she begins to reap the consequences of doing so.

pairing: sung hanbin x fem! reader

word count: 12k

playlist: secret love song - little mix, cornelia street - taylor swift, shadow - seventeen

warnings: jealousy, suggestive, both of their thinking gets a bit toxic imo, lots of miscommunication, y/n has trust issues, hanbin is a little insecure, anxiety, profanity (lmk if i missed any!)

The cafeteria was busy with everyone rushing to get a meal in the small period between classes. Friends talk about the outrageous amount of homework that teachers assigned or the crazy things that they were taught because they forget that the people they are teaching are just young high school students. Failed whispers gossiping about what happened over the weekend.

A topic being on the school's basketball team's pointing guard, Sung Hanbin, being tied down to cheer captain, Yoo Jimin. Witnesses talking about how they caught them underneath the bleachers outside near the football field during the halftime of last week's game. His lips on hers and their hands where they shouldn't be in public.

This could be rumors. This could be the truth. It's up to the recipient if they choose to believe it or not.

Y/N knew it wasn’t true because they have been dating for about 6 months now.

"Honestly they're pretty cute. It's nothing surprising if they are a thing." Zhanghao's voice muffled behind the straw as he took a sip out of his drink.

"Dude." Yunjin whacked the male on the arm. She quickly reassured Y/N," Don't listen to him. Everyone knows that they're just close friends."

"You're acting like Y/N is going to do anything about her crush. Don't give her that toxic positivity."

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N scoffed out," Thanks for believing in me, Hao. I appreciate the hope you have for me."

"I'm just stating the facts. You've liked him for how long? And I have not seen you guys talk at all."

"Yeah, they have!" Yunjin tried to recollect exactly when but blanked out.

"Like once? When he asked for the answers to the science homework? I’m sorry. He and his whole posse are totally out of our leagues."

"I hope you fail tryouts tonight."

"Yunjin." Y/N sighed," Too far."

"He's pissing me off."

Zhangho mocked Yunjin, flicking her off in the process. In response, the girl whacked him on his head. While her best friends bickered, she couldn't help looking over at the table in the middle of the room. Zhanghao was right. Despite them already dating, she still struggled to believe that she was. And the way that Zhanghao talked about it like it would be something atrocious, this is why she preferred to keep their relationship under wraps and away from the public’s eye. If her own best friend couldn’t see them together, how could anybody else? And she knew the comments from people who didn’t know her would be more harsh.

Y/N eyed how Jimin was sitting so close to him. With every movement, their arms and shoulders would touch.

Jimin rose her arm to hang off his shoulder, leaning into his ear to whisper into his ear that made his lips raise into a smile. Just as Hanbin was about to reply to whatever the girl had to say, another body came into her view and blocked away the school's new "couple". Letting out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, she looked up to find Matthew. He was a year younger, a grade below, but she had American literature with him. They didn't really talk much except when they would get paired during class but then again, Y/N didn't really talk to people outside of her circle.

"H-Hey, Y/N."

"Hi."

Matthew gleamed at the simple response, his fingers playing with the strap of his backpack. As he remained silent, she looked around the table before looking back up at him," Is there something you need?" "Oh… uhm…" he stumbled to take his bag. Placing it roughly on the table that had the three of them grasping at their trays so that their food didn't jump too far out of their plates. Digging deep into the trenches of his bag, he spared each of them a bright smile before pulling out a crumpled-up flower. A single white rose and he shyly began to hand it to Y/N.

More like shoved it into her hands.

"I was wondering… if you would like to go to the winter formal with me. I mean I know that you don't know me too well and I don't know you too well but I've always thought you were pretty. And maybe we could get to know each other through this. So be my date?" In the corner of her eyes, she saw his friends huddled at the door. One of them filming the whole interaction.

“Matthew, I’m sorry.", His face fell in disappointment. Y/N quickly shook her head, attempting to stop him from crying but she could see the tears already beginning to fall," It's just I wasn't planning to go is all! I'll have to figure it out with my parents and I don't have money to go. I’ll get back to you, yeah?"

Blinking away the rest of his tears, he let out a sigh of relief, "Oh. Okay. Well, I'll see you later."

Before Y/N could even say anything, he scurried away. Pushing past his group of friends that ran after him, slapping him on his shoulder and back as they made a commotion.

"That wasn't easy to watch," Yunjin spoke through clenched teeth. Zhanghao picked up the rose from Y/N's lap who was still staring at the empty door in complete guilt.

"Well… this is how you can tell someone likes you." He rose it in the air as if he were examining an exotic flora. "So start living in reality. The both of you. Because Sung Hanbin has never spared more than a glance at Y/N in the past four years”

Funny enough, Hanbin himself had not been able to take his eyes off the girl for more than a minute since the second she walked in. _ Right foot. Left foot. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

Y/N let out a dry heave, crouching over her knees. Having physical education right after lunch was pure evil. She could feel today’s lunch. Maybe chugging the banana milk before coming out was a bad idea too. It was beneficial for the people in sports that had to leave early to compete at other schools but she wasn’t a part of any sports so they could’ve put her during any other part of the day. Her body was pulled forward by Yunjin who kept her speed at a slow jog. Huffing through each breath,” The faster we get this done, the more we can hide from Coach Kim.”.

“Left!.” A crowd of male voices exclaimed, running past her in a speed that mocked her. Damn basketball team. Their heights offended her too. The grimace on her face stayed until that familiar flop of hair running in the back appeared. Of course, Sung Hanbin being the captain of the basketball team had to lead an example to other players and make sure all his teammates were accounted for. So despite possibly being the fastest, he stayed towards the end to make sure that the players who weren’t able to keep up and no one was left behind.

Suddenly, Hanbin turned around and began to run backward. Raising an eyebrow in question, Y/N continued to jog. He looked around the area, especially on Yunjin who was still beside her before his eye fell down into a wink at her before turning back around and catching up with the rest of his team.

All prior complaints dissipated into the air. She struggled to hide her blush from his flirtatious attempts but that failed when Yunjin stopped them and held her cheeks together. Worried that she was going to faint from the way her cheeks were turning so red.

After everyone had finished the two laps, Coach Kim lined everyone up along the white lines. “Alright, before I send off half of you, we’re going to play a little game of dodgeball.”

Coach Kim earned boos from the tough crowd but he waved them off and began to read down his roster.

“Coach, why don’t we play it a little differently? Couple dodgeball? Girl as striker and boy as the defender?”

“That’s so boring too! You all take too long to get each other out!” A girl shouted from the other side of the line.

“How about we change that up too and have the boy as the striker and the girl as the defender?” A girl with pig tails asked.

Coach Kim obviously thought that was a good idea since he didn't wait for a vote from the class as he immediately divided the class up in half using the method of giving a person a number between 1 and 2.

Y/N looked around at everyone frantically picking their partners. During this game, she always partnered with Yunjin. They always purposely got out so that they could run off and hide somewhere away from everyone’s view to watch episodes of this anime named Bluelock. But now that Yunjin was split apart from her and on the other team, she didn’t know who to choose as her partner and if anybody even wanted to be her partner.

“1?” A familiar voice came out from the chaos of the crowd, their hand reaching to grab her wrist. Hanbin smirked down at Y/N’s look of surprise, her eyebrows raised and lips ajar. His hand slowly trailed down to interlock their fingers together.

Oh he’s getting quite brave. The fight to hide her blush failed once again. But reality hit when she heard other people in their team complaining about how they wanted to be Hanbin’s partner. The ones reminding her why they were in this position in the first place as they questioned who she was and how in any way she was special enough to have Hanbin choose her so quickly. She began to try to pry her fingers out of his,” Hanbin, we can’t.”

“What? Be partners? I don’t see why now.”

” Yeah but partners don’t hold hands like we are.”

Almost like he wasn’t paying attention to a single thing he was saying, Hanbin used his thumb to rub out the crease between her eyebrow created by the pout on her face. Y/N turned her head from side to side to shake his hand off, “Hanbin!” She whisper screamed.

“I don’t know who that is. I only go by one name.”

“Whatever.”

“Whose Hanbin?”

“Shut up, dude.”

“Dude? Hanbin? What are these names?”

Binnie was just on the tip of her tongue but the sound of the whistle brought everyone’s attention to the middle. Using this distraction, she snuck her hand from Hanbin's grasp before any more questioning glances made their way.

All while Coach Kim was trying to give instructions on how to play the game, she could feel his hand linger near hers. The feeling of his fingertips on her palms, close to interlocking their fingers but never doing it. She loved him. Loved how he respected her space and despite pestering her so much about it, listened and didn’t continue actions that made her uncomfortable.

She ached to hold his hand in public.

Wished she didn’t care too much about the retributions.

The whistle rang through the air again to commence the beginning of the game. Everybody rushing into their sports and grabbing a ball from the middle of the court.

Y/N knew it wasn’t going to be normal. She also knew that they were going to be one of the first ones to get out.

Normal partners, they held onto their partners by their shirts or by holding them on their shoulders.

But Hanbin’s arms were around Y/N’s waist, holding her tightly to his chest. It was honestly a little hard to maneuver around with the limitations of space.

The sound of the ball rushing through the air buzzed in Y/N's ear as she flinched away to avoid getting hit all while pushing Hanbin behind her who felt like a 3 potato sacks that she was dragging. The boy was much too happy while playing a game of dodgeball, his grip only tightening as he tucked his chin into her neck.

"Binnie, you're going to have to move if you want there to any chance of us winning."

Longing the vowels in each word, he whispered into her ear," I don't caree~".

To everyone’s surprise except hers, they were the second pair to get out. Gasps of how Hanbin usually lasts until the end. Walking off to the side, they stood and watched the remaining teams. After few minutes and nobody else getting out after them, Hanbin leaned down to whisper in her ear,” Do you want to get out of here?"

She rose her eyebrow," And how would we do that?"

Hanbin looked over at the game and examined the game. More like he was checking to see how Yunjin and her partner was doing. The duo were pretty still very much into the game and it seemed like they weren't going to get out anytime soon. Y/N watched as his arm shot up to garner Coach Kim's attention who stared over at them in question.

"Do you need more balls from the storage, sir? Y/N and I would have no problem grabbing some."

Coach Kim eyed the balls that went off the distance. He shrugged and nodded, honestly not really caring.

Hanbin wasted no time and walked in front to guide them toward the storage. His long legs allowed for their trip to be shorter and faster despite Y/N’s little complaints from her struggling to catch up, practically jogging. He kicked away the rock that held the door open in a comical way that almost fostered a giggle out of her. With a gentle smile on his face, he held the door open with his one hand. Y/N shook her head at his antics, rushing to get inside so he wouldn't have to hold it any longer for her.

Once the both of them were inside, the door was shut between them. Only the light from the windows shining in for them. Luckily the balls were in an easy find because they were in a visible place. Y/N being the one who found it decided to grab it especially since Hanbin was doing who knows what behind her with the jump ropes.

The only con is that it was a high place tucked besides two boxes.

But it was doable. Getting up onto her tippy toes, she reached up. Stretching out her body to grow tall to grab it but to her avail, it failed. So she tried again, jumping with more force each time. It took the fifth try for the bag to finally budge, it slowly sliding down. What she didn't know was that as she moved the bag, it was moving the box to the right forward.

"Cmon." She muttered underneath her breath, grabbing a handful of the net to pull it forward.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the box tipping forward. Quickly, she reached her other arm out to catch it but a body came up behind her to help catch it as well.

Once she turned her head, Y/N's mind was going haywire. She could not focus with how close he stood to her. You'd think she would be used to it by now. But each time, she got a close glimpse of his face. Starstruck is what could be used to describe; her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her breath picking up a pace. Looking over the details of his face from the curvature of his nose to his soft lips, she couldn't look away.

"You know… usually, people say thank you for their life rather than just checking them out."

Her face scrunched up in disgust," I was not checking you out!"

Hanbin ruffled her hair with one hand and pushed the box back into place. He then helped Y/N pull down the rest of the bag. Y/N pulled the bag up to her chest to distribute the weight better. She tried to back up of the little corner she was in but Hanbin's body blocked her from doing so.

"What are you doing?"

Hanbin quickly motioned to her to be quiet with a finger to his lips before cupping a hand behind his ear. Y/N turned around so she was now facing him with an raised eyebrow.

"Doesn't sound like anybody got out."

A smirk grew on his face, her cheek crinkling up to look like cat whiskers. Like muscle memory, her thumb ran over the lines of one of his most beloved features.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I might just kiss you."

Y/N snapped out of her trance, her hand falling onto his shoulder and resting there. She leaned forward so that her face was under his. She tilted her head up, looking him straight the eyes. "Would you?" A loud shriek escaped from her mouth as her feet were suddenly off the floor and she was placed on a tower of mats. His arms caging her between them, slitting himself between her legs. He leaned in so close that the tips of their noses brushed against hers, his lips barely hovering over hers.

Like a game, she leaned back against the wall to run from him. His lips chasing hers, desperate for even the slightly touch. A small peck given by her. Hanbin groaned in annoyance.

He moved one hand to rest against her bare thigh while the other wrapped around her waist to pull her closer to him.

Like magnets, they stuck to one another. The space between them now closed as their bodies mushed together like a perfect puzzle piece.

The white noise of the fan mixing together with the sound of their heavy breathing. Y/N could feel the butterflies going crazy in her stomach when his hand that was previously on her waist slip underneath her school t-shirt.

The way his hands slowly moved and brushed against her a sensitive spot that evoked a giggle. Hanbin couldn't help the smile at the sound. "Come on, babe. I'm losing it here."

"I don't know. It doesn't feel right snogging another women's man."

With his forehead against hers, Hanbin frowned in confusion, " What do you mean?"

"Last I heard, you were dating Jimin."

"Jimin, huh?" Hanbin dramatically leaned away from Y/N, his arm still secured around her waist. He let out a deep sigh," You're right. I shouldn't be having such thoughts about another man's woman."

This time, Y/N rose her eyebrow up in confusion.

"With that junior."

"Oh, Matthew?" "What was going on there anyways?"

"He asked me to the formal."

"Oh is that right?" Hanbin wiggled his eyebrows," How cute is that?"

"Shut up." She pushed at his shoulder that didn't budge at the movement.

"Did he give you flowers?" A peck on her forehead," Balloons?" A peck on her cheek, " What color are you two wearing?," A kiss on her lips.

"You're soooo annoying. I said no to him."

He tucked a strand hair behind her ear, " Good. Because you're mine."

"Yours? I'd be surprised. Everyone is saying you're Jimin's."

"Would I be in your arms if I was hers? I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than here." He ran his thumb over cheek," I'd go anywhere to be with you." Pulling her back in for a tight hug as he wrapped around of his arms around her waist.

Y/N couldn't help the way her cheeks burned. To hide her reaction, she tucked her face between the crack of his neck and returned the hug back to him.

The moment was interuppted by a rapid knock at the door that had her immediately push Hanbin off of her. His hand quickly grabbed onto hers when he stumbled back against the cushions behind him. Yunjin's voice could be heard outside of the room, asking Y/N if she was in there.

"Crap." Y/N started to push her hair back into place, adjusting her clothes back into place. "Dude, hide."

"What, why?" He whispered in a hush tone.

"Don't you think she'll find it odd if we're just chilling in here together?"

"And what's wrong with that?". It was as if he couldn't see the seriousness of the situation. A boy and a girl in a room alone was strange and questionable in so many ways. Especially with how he was leaning his body into hers again, squeezing her hand, "I think it's about time she found out."

"Binnie, just-" The door opened before she could finish her sentence, the doors were open and Yunjin was in the room with them. Luckily she was looking around the room first since they were tucked away in the corner. That quick second allowed Y/N to realize that their hands were still interlocked together and yanked her hand out of his grip. She had unintentionally done it so fast and rough, failing to see how Hanbin's eyebrow began to furrow.

"Yunjin~" She called out to the lost girl, grabbing the bag of extra balls beside her. Yunjin's head quickly snapped over in their direction, her eyes immediately looking Y/N in hers and widening at the sight and thought of the two being alone in a room together.

Y/N rose her hand up to show the bag of balls in her hands, " You came just in time. Can't find anything in this junk yard."

"Right…" Yunjin only moved only because Y/N dragged her out of the small, congested room. She frantically waved goodbye to Hanbin whose gaze were directed to the floor. Yunjin herself wasn't able to figure what emotion he was showing but couldn't help but see that he resembled a kicked puppy on the side of the road.

Finally breathing in some fresh air of outside, Y/N threw the bag over her shoulder and began walking back to the game that wasn't even halfway done yet.

Behind her, she could Yunjin jogging to catch up to her. Whispering yelling underneath the breath that she couldn't wait to tell Zhanghao about how Y/N got to spend time with her "crush". _ Yunjin has been Y/N's best friend since kindergarten. There is no Y/N without Yunjin and there is no Yunjin without Y/N.

So maybe it wouldn't hurt for Y/N to tell about Yunjin about the fact that she isn't single and has a boyfriend that she's been with for six months now. Also that the boyfriend is Sung Hanbin who she has been gushing over and slightly obsessed with since middle school. Yunjin rambled on and on that she was happy that Y/N was able to interact with Hanbin especially after all these years and that she totally thinks that Hanbin is into her despite the fact that in the two minutes that Yunjin saw them together, Y/N tried her best to not look over at him in fear that she would reveal things just by the way that she looked at him.

Maybe it wouldn't be too bad if they went public.

Jimin and Hanbin's friendship never bothered her especially since she knows Jimin views as a brother. But maybe going public would also put a halt to all the rumors about Jimin and him that irked every time she thought about it.

Y/N pulled her shirt over her head to put on her button up instead. Currently she was in one of the empty shower stalls. While she's known most of the people out there for long as she has been attending public school, she preferred to have privacy while changing.

While clasping the buttons together, she got a big whiff of cigarette smoke.

The shower stalls had a vent that was just placed perfectly on a wall that has an alley on the other side where all students that smoke hid to have their daily dose of those nicotine sticks.

She opted to ignore it as it was none of her business and all she had left to do was to tuck her shirt into her skirt. As she pushed the bunched cloth into the hem, her movements halted when she heard the mumble of her name.

"Yeah, she was with him most of the time."

"Damn that sucks! Weren't you trying to be his partner in the game? Isn't that why you brought it up to Coach Kim?"

Y/N inched closer to the wall, keeping up onto her tippy toes as the vent was so far high up on the wall.

"And he partnered up with Y/N instead?"

The girl let out a long and heavy sigh, seemingly taking a drag of her cigarette before continuing her rant," Partner up? More like she leeched herself onto him. So annoying. Then they were the first to get out."

"Oh my gosh. Hanbin must've been so annoyed. He's literally the best at any sports he plays."

"Right? Then they disappeared off and I never got to talk to him because by the time I found him, he was already with his friends."

"What? Didn't you get out right after Hanbin and Y/N?" The other girl let out an horrendous cackle," And way to make it so obvious. I'm so surprised that Coach didn't say shit about that. "

"That old man is tired. I was doing him a favor by making the game shorter. But anyways, I couldn't find him. Gosh it was so annoying."

"Oh well. The time will come."

"I could've gotten it over with if Y/N wasn't in the way."

"Hey… at least you know she isn't any competition."

"Right? In no way would Hanbin ever go for someone like Y/N."

"You're like 10 times prettier than she is, hands down."

"Girl, I already know that. Like literally he is way too good for her and if she confessed like anyone else would, let's just pray for her because that wouldn't end well."

Having enough of this conversation, Y/N threw on the rest of her outfit and snatched her backpack out of the ground. Pushing past half of the girls, she rubbed at the tears that were fighting to come out. She couldn't believe she was crying because of a gossip. She couldn't believe she was running away from Yunjin who would be the one to comfort in times like this.

She couldn't believe she was dumb enough to even think that the world would accept them. _

A kiss on her neck distracted her from the spam of messages coming from Yunjin about how Matthew asked about her after school. The culprit’s hand pulled the cellular device away from her and placed it on the night stand. Hanbin’s warm hand coming back down to run over the exposed skin of her midriff. A giggle escaped from her lips as he began to lay multiple pecks running down to her collar bone.

Pushing him off slightly, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get your attention.” He pouted,” I’m so tired and all I want to do is cuddle with the hottest girl in school.”

“Hottest girl?”

He hushed her, bringing up his index finger to her lips.

“But she’s too busy talking to her friends that she spends 24/7 with.” He dramatically sighed, allowing his body to fall on top of hers. Tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

“Oh shut up. I know you chose me as your partner on purpose during that game. I don’t want to place blame on anybody but if you weren’t too hyperfocused on hugging me the whole time, we could’ve won.” No snarky response was heard. Instead, she could feel him breathing in her scent that had her scrunching her neck in response.

“Dude, I probably smell like sweat.”

“No, you smell so good.” His voice muffled,” Like cheese.”

Pushing him off again, she mumbled underneath her breath,” Idiot.”

“I wanted to get out first so I could spend time with you. Don’t act like I don’t know yours and Yunjin’s secrets. But she just had to get out so soon.”

“Well you have me all to yourself now.” Y/N pushed back his hair out of his face. Like a puppy, Hanbin gleamed at the gesture and words that came out her mouth.

"By the way, what's your favorite number?"

"_" She raised her eyebrow up," Why?"

"No reason."

"You sound very guilty right now."

He pulled his phone out and began typing hurriedly on his phone. Y/N propped herself up into a 45 degree angle, trying to get a peek of his screen but Hanbin quickly hid the screen with a devilish smile.

"Heyy…" She began poking his shoulder, hoping to annoy him enough to get him to give in. But instead, Hanbin took the opportunity to roll over and lay his head on her stomach. He grabbed her hand that was poking at his shoulder and began to nibble at her finger.

“Stoooop, you little vampire.”

Hanbin placed her hand onto his chest, bringing his phone up high enough so the both of them could look at his screen.

"You're going to put that number on your jersey?"

"Yeah, I want to show that I'm yours somehow."

"That's pretty smart."

"Told you I was."

"Mhm and that's why this was suppose to be tutoring session for your D on your latest Stats test." Hanbin shushed her before pulling up his Instagram and successfully distracting them again from changing their cuddle session to what it was suppose to be before which was a study session.Occasionally they would laugh at the reels that would pop up but his feed was full of a lot of people she didn’t really know or talk to. So Y/N resorted to playing with the strings of his hoodie. Suddenly the loud commotion of earlier today caught her attention. Looking up, she saw an angle of Matthew’s proposal. Someone had sent a video to the school’s instagram account to post for the Assuming where the camera was, it was his friend that was recording earlier today.

She could feel herself physically cringe at watching it all go down again. Expecting Hanbin to laugh about it, she quickly covered his mouth to intercept any sort of teasing that may come to his head. But instead his face remained stoic and he sat up, her hand falling down to her side. He was hunched over as he rewatched the video again.

To get jealous was rare for Hanbin. In the time frame of their whole relationship, which isn’t long but isn’t too short, Hanbin has never showed any signs of jealousy except for one incident before they started dating. He was pretty confident in himself and the two of them always reassured one another that they were the only ones that had each other’s eyes.

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

“You didn’t say no.”

She sat up fully as well, scooching closer to the end of the bed where he sat. “Well, I’m planning to.”

“Why didn’t you say no right then and there? You told me that you did.”

“I just didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his friends.”

“It seems like you’re going to say yes to the guy.” He pointed at his phone.

“But I’m not. I’m planning to say no.”

“He doesn’t seem to think so.”

“I’m going to tell him no!” And while they were on this subject, she couldn’t help but bring up something that’s been bothering her as well,” Why aren’t you denying the rumors about Jimin?”

“What rumors?”

“There’s rumors that the two of you were behind the bleachers and that the two of you are together.”

“Well first of all, the girl I was behind the bleachers with was you. And those rumors have been around since the minute people realized that we’re friends and hang out in the same friend group. It’d be weird if I deny them now if I never acknowledged them before. Besides, those rumors have never bothered you until now. Why are they bothering you now?”

“Then why are you so bothered that I’m planning to say no later? You know I wouldn’t go to the dance with somebody else.”

“I asked you last week and you straight up told me no. He asks you and he gets a, “I’ll have to see. ”

Y/N ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “You know why I said no to you.”

Hanbin returned his gaze back to the dark screen of his phone,” Yeah… yeah… I know. Everyone is going to have something to say about you and me and it’s just too much attention.”

“If I told Matthew no right away, I wouldn’t hear the end of it, especially since he did it in front of so many people.”

The two in silence. Both coming to their conclusion. Y/N came to the conclusion that the both of them were in the wrong and getting a little too jealous. But it didn’t feel like everything was said as Hanbin stayed perched at the end of his bed, his phone back on and scrolling through the comments underneath the video. She reached out an arm out to him but he abruptly stood up. He was quick to grab his duffle bag which was tucked away beside her closet.

“I’ve got tryouts.”

“Binnie…” Getting up onto her knees and was about to get up off the bed to walk over to him but he stopped her ,” Cmon..”

Using his hand on her shoulder to guide her back down into her bed, Hanbin leaned a placed a kiss on her forehead, “I'm sorry." He brought his hand up to cut her cheek, running his thumb along her cheek," I overreacted. I'll see you later?" Even though he looked her in the eyes and said that. She struggled to believe him. Reluctantly, she nodded her head slowly. Before she could even utter another word, he was out of the door and down the stairs.

Despite facetiming later that night, Y/N still felt there was something on Hanbin’s mind. Like he still had something to say. That morning too, she didn’t receive a message from him telling her to have a good morning. 

Not that she wanted him to always send it but it was so out of character for him not to. 

So she couldn’t help the pain in her chest when he walked past with her friends like she didn’t exist.  But this was something that was a regular occurrence. She was the one who told him to do that. So why did she want him to look at her? 

A tap of her shoulder shook her out of her shoulder. Turning again, she found Matthew with another flower in his hand. He motioned for Y/N to take it. The girl slowly took it from his hand. Honestly, she was trying to avoid him until after the dance so that the whole proposal would be useless and forgotten but she already knew that was impossible. 

“So?” 

“Matthew… I’m sorry. I can’t go.”

“Didn’t you say it was about money? I could pay for your ticket!” 

For some reason, even though Matthew was in front of her, she couldn’t help but look over at Hanbin who was leaning up against a locker, talking animatedly to his teammates every so often.  

“No… No.. it’s something else. I just can’t go with you.”

“Do you mind me asking why? I mean I know we don’t know each other all that well so I think that this would be a great time for us to get to know each other.” 

“You’re quite persistent, you know?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all.” 

“Okay, Matthew, it’s not something else. It’s someone else.” Feeling apologetic, she held his hands in hers ,”It doesn’t feel right for me to go to the dance with someone when I’m completely and utterly in love with someone else.” 

“Is it Hanbin?”

She looked back at him in shock, “Woah, how’d you figure that out so quickly?” 

“I mean, minus the fact that you won’t stop looking over at him, I think the bruise on my leg is clear evidence. He was super nice when everyone first got there and he was even giving me tips but then I mentioned my proposal to other players to make myself look cooler because they were all calling me kid because how short I am and he started getting rough.” 

She knew it. She knew he was still bothered about the proposal. 

“You used me to make yourself look better?”

“ I’m sorry for that. I honestly deserved getting roughed up.” 

“Yeah and for also thinking that I could up your game in any way.” Y/N laughed at the thought but Matthew looking at her with an incredulous look as if she were insane halted her from continuing on. 

“What do you mean? You’re one of the coolest and sweetest girls I’ve ever met. Anybody that could have you would be lucky to have you.��� He shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing. “ I just don’t understand why I never see you two together.”

“Well he’s him. And I’m me. People would just look at us weird and question how someone like me could be with someone like him. Like he could do better, you know?” She didn’t know why she was spilling her feelings out to someone she barely knew. But it felt so good to say it aloud. 

“Who cares about what everyone else says?”

“Me. Because I will have to hear the disapproval from everyone and how strange it is that we’re even together.”

“What matters is that the two of you like each other and that’s all that matters. Anybody else that cares and has something to say needs to get a life. And to stop watching so many movies because this is real life and those “status quos” don’t exist.” 

The first bell rang signaling that their first class was about to start in 5 minutes and they needed to go now. Matthew leaned in and kissed Y/N on her cheek before she could deny it. “I truly wish you will take in what I say. Don’t hide your relationships for the sake of people you shouldn’t care about.” 

The younger boy walked away before she could even say anything, leaving her dumbstruck. 

Someone colliding into her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts. 

Matthew's word ran over and over again in her head like a broken record. The way he tells her like it's so easy to do so.

Maybe it is if she learned to not care so much.

The second bell warning pulled her out of her mind. The teacher from her calculus was beginning to notice that she was starting to come late to class a lot more than she should be. She bound to pull her aside to talk about it soon. Pivoting around, she rushed up the stairs to her first class. 

Hanbin stood by himself at his locker now. His hands tucked into his jeans as he watched Matthew walk away. His jaw clenched tight as the loud slam of his locker echoed through the empty hall. 

_ 

Apologies spilled from her mouth every millisecond as she hovered through the crowd to get to the entrance of the tunnel where the basketball team gathered. 

The pep rally was about to begin in 10 minutes and she managed to escape from Yunjin and Zhanghao to be able to talk to Hanbin. To talk about their argument last night and their relationship. Because Matthew was right. Why do other people’s opinions matter? But there was still that fear and that voice in her head that told her that wasn’t a good idea.

Finally reaching an area that had some elbow room, she maneuvered past the associated student body to where a large group of boys in the school’s basketball uniform circled around who knows what. Not seeing the face she wanted to, she decided to see if he was more towards the front. 

“Excuse me.” She squished past the sweaty boys and landed at the front where she found the cheerleaders putting face paint on students and athletes. The boy she was looking for had his legs spread out so he could be the same height as the girl in front of him. The girl dangerously close as she held onto his shoulder, her head leaned in to ensure that the lines she was painting on his face were perfect. 

When she leaned back to laugh at something Hanbin said, Y/N realized then and there that it was Jimin. 

She had to think about what she was going to do next. If she was going to do something that she regretted because of that green feeling that was currently bubbling in her chest. First, she knew that Jimin was a sweet girl that would never take another person’s boyfriend and she never cared about her friendship with Hanbin because what she had with him was so secure. Second, she wasn’t so sure how secure they were anymore and it wasn’t like Jimin knew that Hanbin was tied down, it seems like all her actions were definitely advances to something more. 

So now here Hanbin and her in a janitor’s closet where she pulled him away from a confused Jimin. Y/N muttered something along the lines that she had to talk about something from Chemistry despite that class being one that took two years ago in their sophomore year.  As she walked away, she could hear people asking questions such as, “ who is that?” or “If I was Jimin, I’d be upset if someone was touching my man like that.” 

“You expect me to be okay with dating rumors when you’re going around, acting like that?” 

"Y/N, she was just putting face paint on me." His eyes remained away from you and on something in the background. Trying to avoid her glare.

“She’s all over you and it annoys the hell out of me. Yeah, I didn’t care before but I care now.” She couldn’t believe the words that were going to come out next,” If you want her, then go ahead and go for it. But you have to let go of me first.” She didn’t mean a single word.

“Did I actually ever have you?” 

Y/N stopped her prancing in the small room and turned her body to look at Hanbin who was already looking at her.”What do you mean by that?” 

“Sometimes I'm just here for fun. For the pleasure of it all. Our dates consist of hanging out in our houses and occasional dates outside of the city because you are scared to be seen by anybody else. Here, I have to act like you don’t exist and you act like I don’t exist. I want to brag about you to my friends but I can’t. I even have to remind my mom not to say anything about you to them even though she absolutely is in love with you. And I assume you never told yours about me because of how you hid me away from Yunjin. Are you that ashamed to be with me?"

“Binnie-”

“I want to hold your hand when I want to. I want to kiss you when I want to.” And he too could feel that green monster building up again at the memory from earlier today. .

He saw that? Y/N waved her hands and shook her head,”It’s not what it looks. I didn’t know he was going to do that and I wouldn’t have wanted him to do it if I had known. I’ve told you multiple times that Matthew and I have nothing going on.” 

“ Then why aren’t you believing me when I say that Jimin and I aren’t as well. You’re asking why I care so much about Matthew? It’s not Matthew that I care about. It’s the fact you have never been so open to talking to me in public  and you didn’t even push him away when he kissed you even if it was a simple one on the cheek. You didn’t say no to his proposal so now I have to hear whispers about things I know that aren’t true. And I get why you did it so people wouldn’t talk but there is inevitability some. Why can’t you let there be whispers about us?”

She  watched as his face scrunched up, his fingers running along his forehead to massage the tension headache forming. “Y/N, I’m just tired. I’m so tired. Of running around. Of acting like I don’t care that we have to hide.” The pain in the chest made it hard for her to breathe as she could feel the three words threatening to come out of his lips.

Wanting to cut him off to tell him that she didn’t hide them anymore, his phone rang frantically. They let it go to voicemail but right after, it rang again. 

Though the both of them didn't budge a single movement for what felt like the longest time, his phone went off again after the other one finished. Hanbin pulled the device out of his pocket, letting out a sharp exhale. “I’ll just tell them to go on without me.” 

Before he could lift up the screen to see who it was, Y/N shook her head, “ It’s fine, just go.” 

“No, I’m not leaving us like this again. It’s just a pep rally. I don’t have to be there.” 

“And if you go missing, the whole school will freak out. Personally, I don’t want to be the reason that the school star player is missing.” 

“Y/N, this is it. This is what’s wrong. Who cares about what anybody thinks? Do you not have anything to say about this?” 

“I’m trying, Hanbin! I’m trying. But everyone you miss a basket or the team is having a off day, I have to listen to the crowd talk and assume things about you guys. And most of them talk about you being distracted and having a girlfriend. I don’t want to be blamed for that and have everyone scrutinize me. It’s also the fact that no one could ever imagine you with me. It’s always Jimin. It’s always who the heck is that? whenever they see me with me.  Shit, even Zhanghao can’t imagine us together.”

“But we are. And people are going to have to accept that.” Hanbin hung his head back. “And I’m trying my best to just do what we’ve been doing. Keep our relationship a secret but I can’t find the strength to go on anymore. Because sometimes I feel like I love you more than you love me. And I honestly don’t know if I can stay any longer, feeling that.” 

Her heart thumped at the three words. They haven’t said I love you to one another yet. Always dangerously on the tip of their tongues but never finding the right times to do so.

And this wasn’t the context in which he was hoping he was going to say it.

Her attention shot back into the room when Hanbin’s phone rang again. He cursed under his breath, seeing his Coach’s contact name on the screen this time. “I’ve got to go.” 

A silence granted permisssion to end the converstion. Hanbin slowly grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. Y/N let out a shaky breath as he began to pass her, their shoulders brushing against each other.

“I love you, Hanbin.” 

The sounds of his shoes signaled that he halted in his steps. She could hear him let out a breath of air before starting to speak.

Then the door slammed open. The short, stubby janitor shouting out,” What are you two doing in here?”

(a/n: i meant to put sports, not spots! so sorry for the typo)

After the janitor caught them, his screaming caught the attention of the basketball coach who was searching the hallways from Hanbin. The star basketball player was pulled away from her before he could even reply to her declaration. Though he could see Hanbin struggling to get out of the older man’s grip, looking back at her every so often until they turned the corner to the gym. 

It was true she wasn’t feeling all that well. The dizziness from nervousness and the bile rising up her throat, trying to imagine how it would be if they changed the premise of their relationship. Truely, she needed to lay down before she fell to the cold, dirty ground of the hallways. 

She hoped that he saw it to be true and not said out of desperation to fix their falling relationship. Checking the clock in the corner of the room, she wished the time would go by faster so they could finish their conversation and she could tell him how much he means to her. 

Multiple buzzes from her phone prompted her phone to check whatever her friends had to say now. She could feel her heart drop to her stomach and bile rising up her throat again. This time there was no way to stop it from coming out.

Opening the notification from her friends and repeated tweets from the school's gossip account. The recent headline highlighting Yoo Jimin asks Sung Hanbin to WakeOne's annual winter formal! He says yes! The photos showing different angles of the proposal. A clear look of surprise on Hanbin's face as flowers handed to him from left and right from other cheerleaders. The last photo shocked her gave her a sharp pain in her chest as Chaewon's arms were wrapped Hanbin's neck, his eyes only simply looking down at her face. His hands nowhere near to pushing him off.

Covering her mouth to control her impending sobs, Y/N quickly stood up to run over to the trash can to empty the contents of her stomach. Though Hanbin hadn’t outright said it, she could feel him putting that pause or ending their relationship in the last sentence that he had spoke to her.

He was going to be with someone that treated him right and was perfect for him.

She had her chance and she lost him. 

Turning to look at the school’s nurse, she raised the question if she could stay for the rest of the day to avoid and hide her problems outside of this room but she was already scribbling down a note, shaking her head at the disgusting smell.

_

As the last bell rang, Y/N apologized to the nurse who told her that was nothing and to rest as it seemed like she was sick from stress. And the stress was beginning to take a toll on her body.

Y/N could only imagine if the nurse knew what type of stress she was going through. She would shake her head at the teenage girl.

The nurse began prepping the word and just as Y/N was about to sit down to wait, the door bursted open. A disheveled Yunjin appeared. She slapped a hand against her forehead and shook her head,” No fever.” She grabbed Y/N's face by the chin and twisted it around to check if there was anything abnormal but nothing. “Girl, you look and feel fine. So you left me alone to those heathens for nothing?” 

"Tell that to the three times I've thrown up in the past hour. Guess I should’ve trusted you and just threw away that 6 dollar boba.” 

"I could always buy you a new one. Are you feeling better now?” 

“Yeah kinda..”

Yunjin linked arms with hers,” Great, then, let’s go meet up Zhanghao to check if he made the team or not.”

“I’m actually going to head home right now. I’ll catch the two of you tomorrow at the game-” 

“Oh my gosh, noo! He’d kill us if we forget the promise we made with him.  We have to be there for him to either congratulate him or console him with a dinner.”

“I know but I still don’t feel all that good.” 

Yunjin hummed in response. Although not completely convinced to let Y/N go home. While Y/N waited for the nurse to complete the last of the paperwork, she saw in the corner of her eye a familiar tall figure.

Maybe it was her nerves that prompted her to do so but she grabbed Yunjin who was completely thrown off by the change of energy in the environment. Y/N quickly pulled them both behind a curtain just in time for the door to open again.

"What are you doing-"

Y/N covered the brunette's mouth, peeking through the small slit of the curtain.

Hanbin stood inside of the nurse's office, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. "Hello, by any chance, did a Y/N Y/L/N come by today? I heard some of her friends saying she would be here."

"Oh uhm..." The nurse stumbled over her words. Crossing her fingers behind her back, Y/N hoped that she could read the room and understand what Y/N wanted. "She just left."

"Oh..." Hanbin sighed. "Do you mind if I asking what's wrong with her?"

"Hanbin, you know I can't disclose other student's health with you."

A soft chuckle filled the air and Y/N feel her heart warm at the sound. But it was still heavy with the news she read only two hours before.

"I get that. Can you just let me know if she's okay?"

"She's alright."

She could see him slowly nod and tuck his hands behind his back before bowing. "Thank you. Have a good rest of your day, I'll see you at the game tomorrow."

"Good luck tomorrow, Hanbin."

She waited for sound of the door clicking close before taking her hand off of Yunjin's mouth. Thanking the nurse profusely for lying for her despite not knowing the situation, she could feel a tug on her sweater. Turning to look at Yunjin whose face was decorated in so much shock that it was almost comical, " Why are you acting so weird? And was that Hanbin just looking for you?"

"I can explain."

_

"Wait, then why did he say yes to Jimin?" Yunjin scoffed, shaking her head.

Y/N hugged her pillow close to her chest. The tears beginning to fall again. She managed to hold herself together as she confessed about the secret relationship between Hanbin and her but the reminder that they were potentially over clouded her mind. She shrugged in response.

"That makes no sense though. Because he never actually broke up with you."

Zhanghao sighed and grabbed tissues from her desk, handing them over to her.

"I'm sorry."

The two girls looked up at him in confusion. In the years that they've all been friends, they have never heard those two words come out of Zhanghao's mouth. He was very unashamed of his actions and if he was ever sorry for something, he would show it through his actions.

"That I was pushing Matthew on you. That I kept saying that Hanbin wouldn't look your way."

"You're not wrong though, Hao. He wouldn't have paid attention to me if it wasn't for us having the same part time job during summer."

"Y/N, don't say that." Yunjin nudged her with her shoulder.

"You’re absolutely gorgeous. You both are. And I kept making comments like you were less than what you are."

"It's fine, Hao."

"Yeah but still I was such a dick."

"You were just trying to help me get over him. Nothing wrong with that."

Zhanghao fell back into the plethora of stuffed animals tucked in the corner. Though all was forgiven, the male couldn't stop the feeling of embarrassment and shamefulness he felt from how he acted in the last week.

Yunjin all of a sudden began giggling which earned confused looks from the other two poeple in the room. "He was so jealous then."

A smile perked up on Zhanghao's pout, " That's right! He was going so hard on Matthew that one day at tryouts. I feared for his life."

Yunjin tickled Y/N's side, her tongue sticking out," Look at you having two boys fighting over you."

"Dude, it was making me so sick. I can't even act like I could brag about it because it was stressing me out so much."

"That explains why he was asking the nurse about you. Aw, Y/N, he was looking for you!"

"Yeah... after he said yes to Jimin during the pep rally."

"I don't know if he even said yes to her. Everything happened so quick and he didn't even smile or do anything through the whole thing." Zhanghao tapped his chin," He was just... in shock."

A sudden knock on her door silenced them all. Peeking in was her mother. "Honey... Hanbin is downstairs."

Plushies flew each side of the room as her two friends scrambled to leave the room through the window but Y/N stopped them. She kneeled to the end of her bed," Can you tell him I'm sleeping already? That I'm still sick from earlier today?"

Her mother frowned before nodding, shutting the door behind her.

"Why are you avoiding him?" Zhanghao questioned, crossing his arms together," And are you not getting his texts or calls?"

"I... blocked him."

"What? Why?"

"Hao, I just don't want to deal with all of this right now. It's too overwhelming."

"If you avoid your problems, they only get worse."

"I just need some time to think about everything, okay? I feel like I got the ultimatum that I have to choose having our relationship public or losing him. Then I also think that Jimin is so much better for him because if he's with her, it'd be so much easier because she's used to the attention. "

"But he doesn't like her, he wants you." Zhanghao waved his hands from left to right," Hence why he was crying over a photo of you and him."

Y/N covered her face with the pillow that was still in her arms," I know... I know... but if he was with her, he wouldn't have to even deal with this bullshit."

Yunjin wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulder, "I get what you're thinking but he seems like he's all in for you."

"I know... I know... I just don't know if I'm ready. I thought I was. And what if I just disappear from his life. Act like I never in it like I was before. Then he could get over him."

"So you're just going to avoid him until when?"

"Not forever. I just need a moment to think to myself. I've already heard what he has to say."

"So you're just going to let Jimin swoop up and take your man like that?"

"What? No? Yes? I don't know." Y/N abruptly stood up, shocking both of her friends. "You guys are suppose to be helping me but instead you're making me want to throw up some more." Speaking of which, she could her stomach beginning to rumble and the feeling of something up her throat. Stumbling over sheets and pillows to the bathroom, she shut the door behind her. Praying that the fan would cover the noise.

Zhanghao huffed and pulled out his phone. Yunjin decided to keep quiet and watch the show that was put on before Zhanghao came over. When he becomes stressed or annoyed, he tended to find comfort in his phone especially when he's trying to calm down and not blow up on the person he was talking to.

But at that moment, he was currently texting Hanbin to tell him the truth. For two reasons he did so. One, so he didn't have to watch his friend mope around. He disliked seeing Y/N upset especially when she begins to self deflect herself. Two, so he doesn't want to have his teammate mope around when their first scrimmage is tomorrow. While it wasn't a real game, it was still a pretty big deal.

After Zhanghao and Yunjin left, Y/N went downstairs to wash and put away the dishes that they used. Sitting on the couch was her mother, catching up on the shows she missed while at work. In front of her on the coffee table was a white pharmacy bag and bento boxes that were opened up. She walked over to see Mrs.Sung's infamous rolled egg omelette.

She always mentioned to the older lady that she makes the best.

"What's this?"

"Hanbin brought this earlier when he came by. He told me you went to the nurse's earlier that day?"

Y/N sat down and nodded. "Wasn't feeling too well."

"Well, he brought you medicine. Mrs.Sung made you congee. It's on the stove."

Using her finger, she took a peek into the bags and boxes. She could her heart melting at the sight, a note at the bottom of the bag from Hanbin. The message was short with the simple words of Get Well Soon but it meant so much more. The way he went home after practice and still came by her house to drop all of these things off despite it being a bunch of back and forth.

She could feel her mom side eyeing her and honestly, she would too.

The words replaying in her head of how he felt like he was more in love with her than she was with him. Which simply just wasn't the truth and it pained her heart to ever think that he thought that way because her actions are what prompted him to believe so.

She pulled out her phone to text Yunjin and Zhanghao if they could help her for what she was conjuring up in her head. She passed Hanbin's contact in her favorites. Debating if she should unblock him or not. Scared of what's to come next. But in order to get to the next step, she had to. Quickly, she unblocked his contact.

Soon, a spam of notifications appeared. Stating that she had 6 new notifications from messages.

As she read through the messages he sent her, her vision began to blur from the tears brimming her eyes. Hearing those words written out so beautifully by him.

Cursing herself for realizing it too late. Through every comment she's heard that upset or scared her, she was given the constant reassurance by him that she'll be safe with him. Through everytime she considered that they should break up, she always told herself that Hanbin is worth it all.

Hanbin will always be worth the pain.

_

Though she tried to talk to Hanbin earlier in the day so that it wouldn't seem like she was ignoring his texts from the night prior, it seemed like the world wasn't against her today.

Because of the game tonight, the basketball team was able to leave during PE so she missed him in their last two classes that they shared together. She was able to conjure the confidence to walk up to him during lunch but she pulled away from the planning committee to help plan for the class floats that were going to come out during halftime.

At least he knew that she was going to talk to him and wasn't planning to ignore him until the school year was over. His wide eyes and the clear shout from down the hall, telling her to come to the game tonight, an indiction of so.

It was better this way especially since she wanted to surprise him tonight and she knew she could never hide anything as big as this from him. So this no talking period between them both pained and relived her.

It also gave her more time to sneak around and plan her surprise for him in the period that she was waiting for the game to start with Yunjin. They had planned to grab some hotpot to fill their stomachs but Zhanghao forgot his shoes because of first game jitters so they had to go to his house and grab them. And while they did this task for him, he also complained that he needed it before the warmups started and told them not to take so long. Text messages rushing in every other minute to check up on where they are. He was unknowingly rushing them but they let it slide this time because they will never understand men's weird obsession with smelly clothes being their good luck charm and that it was his first game.

After giving the princess his stinky shoes, the two girls went to a nearby dollar tree to get the materials she needed for what she wanted to prepare for Hanbin. Yunjin dropped Y/N back at home so that the two of them could get some rest before heading out to the game. Yunjin asked Y/N if she wanted her to pick her up but being the person she is that didn't want to inconvenience anybody, Y/N insisted that she would walk there especially since it was still going to be light out when the game started.

She had so much running around today so who could blame her for falling asleep on the couch while watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy?

Maybe then if she took Yunjin up on the offer, she wouldn't have woken up to about 35 missed calls and 60 unread texts combined from both of her best friends. She wouldn't be frantically trying to grab everything and pay for an uber to school so she could get there before the game ended.

She slept through three and half quarters. With only 10 minutes remaining in the game.

Surprisingly with how fast she threw everything together and rushed out of the house to get into the car, she didn't trip over her foot once as she stumbled out of the uber. Leaving a hefty tip for the middle aged man who had to deal with her asking if he could drive any faster despite there being traffic to the school.

Struggling to catch her breath, she saw a large crowd of people exiting the gym. Confirming the worst possibility of all the possibilities.

The game ended on her and Hanbin was left thinking that she flaked on him.

Running towards the entrance, she immediately found Yunjin who grabbed the girl by her shoulder and pushed her away the crowd that stampeding out.

"Y/N! I tried calling and texting you. Where were you?"

"For the life of me, I could not wake up."

Yunjin sighed and began to rub her forehead in frustration," The balloons are still in my car and they should still be inflated. The game just ended and they should still be getting ready to go home."

"Then we have enough time."

"We have enough time."

Y/N took a deep breath, a shaky one that was filled so much anxiety.

"Hey, you don't have to do this. A man's love is not worth risking it all for something that you are not yet comfortable to do."

Y/N quickly shook her head," No, I want to. This is for him and for me."

Yunjin gave her a tight, warm hug," You'll do great. If all goes wrong, I'm just a phone call away and Hao will be nearby." And a quick second, the soft Yunjin was gone. A strict look on her face as she pointed her head towards the large tree at the side of the school," Let's get to work."

_

Y/N nervously tapped her foot against the pavement, crossing her arms together to gather warmth as a strong gust of wind flew by.

The sound of boys yelping and clammering of the locker room gained her attention, turning her head to find Hanbin in the crowd.

Because they are teenage boys, everyone looked the same especially after taking a shower. There were no differences in hair to tell them apart. Ignoring the side eyes and quick glances, she stepped closer to the entrance just to make sure she didn't miss.

Accidentally bumping into strong frame that immediately caught her.

"Y/N!" Matthew cheered, a wide smile at her appearance. " I didn't know you were coming tonight!"

"Oh... yeahh..." Y/N smiled softly back, her eyes darting from his face to whoever was coming up behind him.

"Did you see the basket I got? It was so intense because all of the guys from the other team were like ganging up on me and honestly I kinda rushed to throw the ball and it actually got in."

Y/N's mouth dropped down in shock," Dang, that's some real talent. But I'm sorry, I didn't get to see it. I... missed like the whole game."

"Wait then why are you here?"

Y/N leaned down to whisper," I'm actually going to ask Hanbin to homecoming."

Matthew's gasp came out louder than Y/N expected, his hands clasping down together with hers. "Dude no way!" He quickly pushed her into his arms and wrapped her into a hug as he swung their bodies left to right," I'm so proud of you. It's going to be great. I can't wait for you guys to-"

Y/N quickly pushed Matthew off when she opened her eyes and found Hanbin standing at the entrance, only a few feet away from them. He was already focused in the position the two were in, his eyes wide. When he finally snapped out of it, the emotions ran dry from his face as he cleared his throat.

"By all means, do not let me interrupt."

"Crap." Y/N and Matthew mumbled underneath their breaths as Hanbin began to storm off in the direction of the parking lot.

Without bidding a goodbye to Matthew, Y/N ran after the boy. His long legs benefitting him as whenever she thought she was caught up to him, she wasn't.

"Hanbin!" She yelled, her voice cracking as she never really spoke that loud unless she really needed to.

He stopped in his steps but continuing on.

Groaning out of frustration, she quickly ran again to grab his arm and made him face her. "Hanbin, please."

"No!" He threw her hand of his arm," You didn't text me back all night. And then I see you with Matthew. Y/N, you could've just told me what you wanted and spared me the shock because I'm already heartbroken as is."

Not finding the right words to say in the heat of the moment, Y/N pulled him in the direction of the soccer field.

Hanbin didn't resist but questions spurred out every second, telling her to say something or asking where she was taking him.

As they reached closer to the tree, she couldn't find which one it was as she couldn't seem to find the decorations that Yunjin and her rushed to do in 10 minutes. Curses sprang from her mouth when she finally found the sign. Only the sign. That wrote out Wanna Dance? in Zhanghao's chicken writing.

She immediately dropped Hanbin's hand, looking at the bare trees that no longer had his favorite colored balloons tied to them. And the lights that were scattered throughout the grass with the flowers all over the place. It looked like a tornado had blew through this place.

This was suppose to be perfect.

But it was all ruined because they didn't read the wind advisory warnings or tie down everything tight enough so that it would stay.

Tears quickly brimmed her eyes, turning back to look at Hanbin who still hadn't said anything or gave any type of reaction which worried her more.

"Binnie... I swear there was so much more. I wouldn't... I wouldn't do something as basic as this. I had everything planned and it was so pretty when I finished setting it up with Yunjin." The salty tears ran down to her mouth, causing her to involuntarily bring her hand up to rub at her eyes. Between sobs, she whispered underneath her breath," I had it all planned. I wanted it to be perfect for you because you've done so much me and I love you so much. I wanted to prove to show you that I love you just as much, if not more, as you do."

She kept rambling on and on how everything was ruined.

She would've jolted if not for the fact that his warm touch was comforting on her skin. His hands pulling her arms down so that her hands were off his face.

"Binnie... I'm so sorry. I understand if you don't want to get-"

Lips halted her mid-apology. Hanbin's cupping her cheek as he moved his lips against hers. He pushed in harder, encouraging her to join him which she did. Her arms wrapped around his neck, eyes fluttering close as their lips fought eagerly against each other.

"Don't finish that sentence." His lips connecting against hers before he pulled away to catch his breath," You know I'll always want you. I love you."

BONUS:

The group's instagram stories after Y/N and Hanbin made their relationship public.

(a/n: hello, this fic is heavily unedited so plz lmk if any part seems funky or sounds weird. i also slightly rushed the end so i apologize if it seems like that. thank you for reading. i love and appreciate you! <3)

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 8/6/2024

people mad at a video game for being woke, i'm mad at it for not being woke enough. so it goes.

also i wrote a yeehawgust fic

listening

another addition to the "SOMEBODY COME FUCK THIS (GAY)" playlist, thank u charli xcx and billie eilish

-

reading

im still really annoyed with Retraction Watch for platforming a terf last year and then not doing any sort of sockpuppet damage control in the comments. since they got acquired by crossref they've done way less guest editorials. not to be all "stick to sports!" but stick to sports, retraction watch.

they did introduce me to this substack series i will be following with great interest about the rise and fall of hindawi. wiley acquired a paper mill a few years back, bc they seemingly did zero diligence, and then blithely ignored the problem for two years before being forced to do the single largest retraction of papers in scientific publishing history, somewhere above ten thousand articles because it is STILL ONGOING.

i do love following various retractions bc i like seeing what finally made someone go "wait a minute", and, as i have just written in a cover letter, "I studied astronomy and have held several data jobs because I’m fascinated with how and why systems work and fail..."

-

watching

my best friend has decided while i'm at her home in the evenings eating her food and bothering her children (for my mental health, it is very important i am fed tiny bits of mushed up banana by hand by her one-year-old), our new project is watching all the xmen movies. i have no particular desire to do this or special affinity for the xmen, and i would like to keep eating very good texmex and bothering her children (for my mental health, it is very important i play hot wheels with the five-year-old). this sounds so super bitchy of me but it's hard to convey that these are essentially on for background noise.

saw the first two. the two things i know about them are that hugh jackman is in them and they're at the statue of liberty in one

-

playing

an ideologically baffling little environmental game free in the epic store this week, LumberJack. this is on PC and Switch for $13, which is far more money than the playtime anyone can get out of this game. tiny tiny tiny little Spain-headquartered studio without an active website, it looks like one guy hired out to make this and two more games and then went back to single-dev projects. i can respect that!

steam reviewers are mad at this game for being woke, and i'm mad at it for being woke in a very strange way. your one mechanic, as a bear, is swinging a big axe to remove cars and trailer offices and portapotties and various garbage from the landscape.

i wish the movement and look controls are inverted, and i wish they weren't, or at least had an option to make them normal. i know Why this isn't a mobile game (can't monetize something with twoish hours of gameplay and twenty levels) but it's a very straightforward and simple game that would translate very well to mobile. much like donut county.

now for being picky about the political mindset of the developers: as much fun as it is to be a bear swinging an axe around, lumberjacks are not the people i associate with wild preservation movements.

saving the land and turning it back into pristine and perfect land for wild animals in this game looks like erasing every hint of human activity from a site and turning it into sheer recreational use. many levels are heavily polluted, but some can definitely be read as recycling centers. im confused by the erasing every hint of humans in early levels, and then this level where you break down a radio station, slap the host with your axe, and she turns into a park ranger who starts gardening and taking care of chickens?

i don't think that removing all the traces of people from the landscape will magically fix everything, nor do i think simply being in unspoiled wilderness will magically fix me.

there's a golfing level where you whack bombs into various small buildings. i think golfing to save the environment is a strange choice to make for designing a game.

i also briefly thought this bird in every level was an extinct ivory-billed woodpecker, which was a little alarming bc there are some real nutjobs out there with very strong beliefs about this bird and government overreach and how much the government is lying to you about the extinctness of various animals.

i stopped playing about halfway through bc i was not having fun and found the underlying environmental message a little confused. they've managed to sell at least 10k units which is...not very good. i am not surprised this is free on epic, and i wonder what their payout for that was. would not be surprised if they negotiated a payment to their nonprofit partner ecologi as part of that.

-

making

yeehawgust fill! i have another bitchy blond babygirl!

what the fuck is the prisoner? cult 60s british spy tv. with all the surreality and anxieties about the cold war and midcentury psychological horror you could possibly want

He’d been drugged enough times to recognize the splitting migraine rapidly galloping down his neurons. “Where am I?” He fought down the taste of bile (ketamine? xylazine, by the aftertaste) and the rising panic. Oddly enough, the migraine was always worse with veterinary sedatives. One would think a mind would adapt to nearly three hundred years of irregular drugging and constant experiments. One’s body had adapted and ghoulified, but in equally unhelpful ways. The tycoon flickered, approximating an appraising blink. “This meeting has been a long time coming, hasn't it? You've come a long ways, literally and, I suspect, figuratively as well. You’re in the Free Economic Zone of New Vegas.” They’d pretended the prisons were so many different places: across the Continent, in various parts of London, up and down and all around the East Coast of these wretched States. Rarely this far west, aside from the awful escapade in the faux pre-War Western town. “What do you want?” He managed to swing his ankles off the saddle (also pre-War? Heavily used. It certainly wasn’t his, the equestrian event had always been his worst event in the pentathalon) and jolted what felt like every half-dead nerve in his half-dead body.

[not-poignant]

Omg please drop some of your fave 00s Midwestern emo

Absolutely!

So first thing I should say is that I love a lot of emo, not just 00s Midwest. And most of the musicians I loved then, I still follow to some capacity now (it's also how I found musicians like Manchester Orchestra long before they went viral.

For specifically Midwest era, it'd have to be:

The Get Up Kids (I would die for Matt Pryor, his prolificness and songwriting is incredible. He's also The New Amsterdams, and writes as Matt Pryor, he also did children's albums as The Terrible Twos and now has a punk band I always forget the name of). For people new to TGUK, would highly recommend Red Letter Day, and I'll Catch You

There's also Jets To Brazil, mewithoutYou, Sunny Day Real Estate, Spanish Love Songs (folks who listen to my playlists might recognise the song Brave Faces Everyone, which I'm also using as an upcoming chapter title). I've seen The Shins listed as Midwest emo and I enjoy them but I don't think they fit the genre, lol. There's also Mineral, Rainer Maria, Modest Mouse etc.

In terms of more broadly, the emo artists I've love/d are like Brand New (controversial these days, I know), Taking Back Sunday, Acceptance, The Academy Is..., Panic! at the Disco (they've strayed from their roots but I still like em), Say Anything, Matchbook Romance, Dashboard Confessional, The Early November, All Time Low (do an amazing cover of Umbrella), Fall Out Boy, The Format (not really emo but they were in this crowd), Jimmy Eat World, JamisonParker, Death Cab for Cutie, Alexisonfire! (Screamo), Anberlin, Hellogoodbye, and probably a bunch of others I'm missing!

I've been to see Dashboard Confessional and Brand New live (the latter was the first band I ever flew to another state to see, because they weren't going to come to Perth), and I've intended to see Taking Back Sunday twice but both times was too sick to go.

I live with a music journalist, and we're both very interested in all kinds of music, usually with different projects going on at the same time. Currently he's trying to get through all the top albums by year since albums existed (he's now in the early 90s), curating a playlist of '100 top songs per year' series of playlists. I'm doing my Colourways project this year, which is creating playlists of 30 unique songs each that match some of the top selected colours of the year. (I'm currently listening to Kenepuru Sound in that collection).

Last year were both actively tried to listen outside of our music spaces, so Glen targeted a lot of foreign countries, and I specifically lasered in on Indonesia, because that suited some worldbuilding I was doing. Consequently made a giant Indonesian-songs playlist, and fell in love with Padi. Everyone should. (Go listen to Semua Tak Sama, especially if you love Radiohead). I also focused on listening to a lot of Indigenous Australian music, which led me to Alf the Great, who made the song Running that I added to a few playlists. He's Kalkadungu/Bidjara.

The year before that I was followed on playlist curation, etc. We're both a bit neurodivergent about our music habits, except that Glen can't listen to the same song over and over again, and I can to his dismay, so I have to be careful how I do it (and normally not when he's home).

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Chapter 6: Goodbye, Emily

This is probably one of my favorite chapters, and also one that broke my heart while writing it (it didn't help that I was listening to the Monsters Inc soundtrack while doing so, especially Boo's Going Home). Check out the full hearbreaking playlist for this fic here!

Word Count: 2500 ish

Warnings: it's giving Sully leaving Boo, iykyk

Fic Masterlist here!

Age 7

Summer came, and with that, the rest of the half-bloods.

Luke and Annabeth had been at camp for a bit longer than a month now, and they had settled in pretty well; after the initial turmoil of Thalia’s demise, life at camp went back to normal, and before they knew it, summer had arrived.

Emily had gone back at training with her siblings and some other demigods from various cabins, but she purposefully kept her distance from Annabeth; unspoken tension lingered between the two, and they avoided direct confrontation in the arena. Luke was an excellent swordsman, though; apparently, he and Thalia had been on the run for a long time, and he was experienced with combat fighting. His presence, and his skills, were a constant reminder of the dangers lurking outside of camp.

That summer, though, Thalias’ sacrifice and Annabeth and Lukes’ arrival wasn’t the only big thing to happen to Emily: every year new demigods arrived for the first time at camp, and this time, a young girl, around two years older than her, made it to camp, accompanied by a satyr named Gleeson. Her name was Clarisse La Rue. Claimed by Ares, she was Emily’s older half-sister.

Maybe she couldn’t be friends with Annabeth, but she had now a new sister!

Clarisse settled in their cabin in the morning, and in the afternoon she was already training with her siblings. Emily had flying class that day, and although she was super excited to meet Clarisse, she loved the Pegasi too much to miss out on riding them.

At dinner, the tables were once again full of demigods, all of them gathered for the summer. Emily loved it. Clarisse was there too, on the opposite end of the table, and she seemed to be fitting in nicely, which Emily thought was good. She was a bit louder than Emily, though, and she also seemed a bit harsh when another camper, a son of Hephaestus, accidentally pushed her while walking by; he apologized, but Clarisse’s face still looked angry.

They all sang songs together by the campfire, and Emily felt like the weight of loss on the shoulders of everyone who had been there when Thalia died lessened. That night, she dared to sneak out again; she hadn’t done it since the night Annabeth and Luke arrived, but she felt better again, and so she went outside to look at the stars.

What she didn’t expect, was to see her father that night.

Ares materialized in the quiet darkness, his form merging with the shadows; he never visited Emily during the summer (too many children around for his liking), but at night, with her alone sitting on a rock by the beach contemplating the stars, he thought otherwise.

He was starting to go soft on her.

“Anything interesting up there?” Emily looked at him, her whole face lighting up, and an instant smile appearing on her lips “Is there seat for one more?”

Emily moved to the side a bit, allowing her dad to sit down. She remembered then their last encounter, when he told her to not be friends with Annabeth; he didn’t seem mad at her now, so she guessed she had done good. His approval was everything that mattered to her.

“Don’t you get tired of sitting out here, all by yourself?” he knew of her little escapades, for a long time now. She always sat outside, even in the colder months, looking up at the sky.

"I like the stars. They keep me company" she said in a hushed tone "They're all sparkly, shiny… and they've been twinkling for, like, thousands of years! Chiron tells me their stories, often, and one day… I wanna do something super cool like the heroes from the stories, something… so brave like what Thalia did, so that when I'm not here anymore, my spirit can go up to the sky and turn into a brand new shiny constellation”

You didn’t hear stuff like that from Ares’ kids very often.

They were children of war, not poets or dreamers. Yet Emily’s yearning for heroic deeds, echoed something familiar to Ares – the desire for glory in death, to be remembered as a warrior… that was a fighter’s last victory, and it was something else she had also inherited from him.

“Look, that one looks like Chiron!” she was pointing at the sky, at the Archers’ constellation, which certainly looked like a centaur. Ares hummed, looking up as well; he never looked at the stars, not anymore. Why bother, if they looked the same as thousands of years ago? “He knows a lot of things. And he teaches me a lot too”

“Seems like that old centaur has been keeping you busy, huh?”

There was a sense of… ease, between them. They felt comfortable with one another. That was something Ares hadn’t felt with his children in a very, very long time, not since he withdrew from their lives. Whatever it was that drew him so much to Emily both intrigued and unnerved him. It scared him like nothing else could. Feelings, attachment, love… emotions were dangerous in war. They could be lethal.

But they were also the very essence that fueled one’s determination to keep fighting.

“Oh!” Emily looked back at him again, having remembered something “Guess what? I got a new sister today!”

She told him about Clarisse, who had arrived that morning. How she had already began training with them all. How she had seemed to settle easily among her siblings. Ares knew, of course; he had claimed her after all. That girl was different to Emily: she embodied the typical traits associated to him, and that most of his children had. He had seen her fewer times than Emily, and he wasn’t really interested in seeing her again anytime soon. She didn’t spark anything remarkable inside of him.

Ares listened to Emily talking about her new sibling, his stoic expression revealing little of the thoughts swirling within him; she expresses joy at having another sister, the news however, didn’t elicit the same enthusiasm from her father.

“That’s great, Ems” he responded, although he didn’t really mean it; he didn’t really care, to be honest. His face was neutral now, not really showcasing any emotion – there was a stark contrast between what he felt when he thought of Emily, to when he thought about his other children, and he was starting to become aware of that.

“She’s more like my brothers and sisters than me, though. She seems tough, and she’s loud. I think you’ll like her. Maybe you could come one day and meet her!”

Ares felt a sudden pang, a subtle discomfort, that made him want to disappear that same second. A crippling, uncomfortable feeling on his limbs and his chest, that made him clench his jaw and his muscles tense.

Emily’s innocent anticipation of him confirmed his fears. He sensed her growing attachment, her yearning for connection, which was something he had encouraged himself with his visits, and her believe that these sporadic meetings were something normal, when it was the opposite. It sparked an uneasy realization.

In that moment, Ares had to choose; if Janus had showed up that instant, he wouldn’t have been surprised. He couldn’t meet Emily’s expectations… and he was convinced that not even trying he would reach them – they were so high as the stars above them.

As the god of war, he had spent millennia cultivating the image he uphold even nowadays: ruthless, strong, an unyielding force indifferent to softer aspects of existence. He embodied the cruel moments of battle, where there was no sanity, but only raw emotions and an instinct to survive, to fight, to kill, and to thrive. Emily’s presence challenged this self-imposed narrative, the very essence of his divine existence.

She was still pure, and he could understand her eagerness for a real father-daughter relationship – he’d had that same feeling once, when he still believed Zeus could be there for him not only as a king or a ruler, but as a parent. For Ares, the idea of fatherhood clashed with his persona as the god of war, and the vulnerability that accompanied it was a territory he was unaccustomed to navigating.

The realization that Emily expected more from him than what he thought he could provide made him decide to distance himself for good. These sporadic visits would only encourage and enliven the idea she had of him, which was something he didn’t see himself as: a father.

He would end up disappointing her. He knew that it was inevitable. In his divine logic, a clean break seemed a safer option. So even if it pained him… he would ignore those feelings, and move on. He couldn’t be the father she sought. The remains of what he felt would vanish in time, and in a few centuries, he wouldn’t even remember them.

At least, that’s what he told himself, not entirely convinced.

If Emily’s mother was still around, everything would be better. She had been nothing but perfect to raise their child, in his opinion. Now without her, he didn’t know how to be the only parent Emily had left. He was… scared of ruining everything, so he’d step back. It was the best option.

He’d never stop caring, but he couldn’t stay by her side. Not anymore. For her sanity, and his own.

“You should go now” he said, looking at her little face. She resembled him, kind of. Every day that passed he saw more of himself in her than he thought was originally there “Warriors need their rest”

“But I’m not tired” the yawn that followed said otherwise. Ares didn’t hold back his chuckle.

“Oh, really?” she nodded, but another yawn came to her.

She then did something that made his heart skip a beat: she slid to the side, resting her small frame against his arm, and started playing with his fingers, tracing the patterns of little scars on his skin, and fumbling with one of his rings.

“I miss Mommy” she mumbled “But I’m happy to have you, Daddy”

She insisted that he accompany her to her cabin, since he’d never been there at night, and he gave in; he made darkness surround them, hiding them from anyone who could still be up and see them, but Emily didn’t seem to notice as she pulled at his hand in the direction of the Ares cabin, giggling. He found himself tucking her in, something he never thought he would do; she clutched that stupid teddy bear to her chest, smiling sleepily at him, in a bubble he created so none of his other children would see him. He didn’t want to deal with that.

“All set?” it was certainly an unfamiliar task, even slightly awkward for him, but he easily draped the thin covers over her, shielding her from the fresh summer night air, and she seemed content enough. He didn’t relish much in the feeling of making her smile, though - it was time “Goodbye, Ems. Stay strong for me”

“Can you stay until I fall asleep? Please, Daddy?”

“No, kid. Daddy has to go”

She sighed, fighting back tiredness. Oh, his little warrior.

“Goodnight, Daddy” she lifted one of her hands, and rested it briefly against one of his cheeks. She fell asleep a few seconds after, hugging her teddy bear off to dreamland, mumbling one last ‘love you’ before completely succumbing to sleep.

Ares stood up quickly, not bearing to stay there any longer. He may think this was going to be a clean break, but right now, it felt rough, sharp, and bloody. He made his way out of the cabin, off to the night, but he halted in his step one last time, looking at his hands; Ares could still feel Emily’s fingertips tracing the skin on his own fingers, playing with one of his rings.

Taking off said ring, he snapped his fingers, and made it disappear. It didn’t vanish, though, no. It appeared on Emily’s camp necklace, resting over her chest alongside the bead she had acquired last summer. With that, Ares left camp half-blood, for good this time.

Things didn’t get better for Emily from then on.

The sister she had thought could be her friend, turned out to be uninterested in her, rejecting her for her youth (she was only two years older than Emily, but that seemed to make a huge difference, being so young), and also because she wasn’t as rough as most of their siblings. She just wasn’t how Clarisse thought Ares’ children should be; Clarisse proved to be a stark contrast to her own demeanour, and while Emily cherished the gentle moments at camp, Clarisse, embodying the more traditional traits of Ares' children, sought intensity, sharpness, and harshness.

The dynamics within the Ares cabin began to shift as well. Her siblings, once fond of Emily's sweet nature, now gravitated towards Clarisse, recognizing familiar traits in her that resonated with their own. The demigods outside the cabin acknowledged Clarisse's formidable temper, making it clear that she wasn't to be underestimated.

Initially, Clarisse struggled to accept Emily as her sister. The stark differences between them, from their personalities to their approach to combat, baffled Clarisse. While Emily displayed skill in the arena, it wasn't enough to bridge the gap between the two sisters. Emily found herself grappling with the shifting dynamics, losing favour with her siblings as Clarisse asserted herself as a formidable force within the Ares cabin.

There was this one time where Emily asked one of her older brothers if he wanted to go to the strawberry fields to help the satyrs collect the harvest, like they had done the previous summer, but then Clarisse got in the way, laughing at her for wanting to do something as mundane as that.

“It’s fun, though” replied Emily “And last time they gave us extra strawberries”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds like something Ares would love seeing his children do” Clarisse snorted, and she nudged their brother, who still hadn’t answered Emily; he was older than both girls, but not as harsh as Clarisse, and she intimidated him “Do you want to go pick up some strawberries like a little boy? Or do you prefer to go to the arena and fight some Hermes kids with spears?”

He looked conflicted, until he sighted, shaking his head no to Emily’s direction.

“Maybe next time. Have fun, though”

The Ares cabin, once filled with warmth for Emily, became a battleground for dominance, and Emily found herself on the outskirts.

Clarisse reveled in the admiration she received from her siblings at her fighting skills, whereas Emily struggled for the first time to reconcile her own identity with the expectations placed upon her as a daughter of the god of war. She sought solace in the familiar embrace of the night sky, fiddling with the ring her father had gifted her at the beginning of summer, tracing the braided metal, memorizing every quirk and curve.

Her father didn’t show up anymore, not even when she was outside alone, at night; she hoped that at least then he would appear, but nothing happened. The very last day she had been truly happy, was when she had last seen him.

She remained hopeful, though, thinking that probably in autumn, when most of the campers went back home, he would visit again. Until then, she would wait for him. She would be strong, like he wanted her to be, and she’d resist. She could do that until he’d come see her again.

Little did she know, he would never visit her at camp ever again.

----

Taglist: @strawberryys-stuff@ladysybilchronicles@kyuupidwrites@nhloversblog@beansficreblogs@priyajoyyy@zeeader@lightsgore@gengen64@holb32@therockywhorerpictureshow @jasontoddorjasongrace @lflores2008 @mymelodymia

[ironwoman359]

i saw your tag about how in 500 years we WON'T be calling britney spears' "toxic" classical music, and i am willing and able to hear this rant if you so wish to expand upon it :3c

You know what, it's been over six months, so sure, why not, let's pick today to have this rant/lesson!

To establish my credentials for those unfamiliar Hi my name's Taylor I was a music teacher up until last year when the crushing realities of the American Education SystemTM led me to quit classroom work and become a library clerk instead. But said music teaching means that I have 4+ years of professional classical training in performance and education, and while I'm by no means a historian, I know my way around the history of (european) music.

So, now that you know that I'm not just some rando, but a musical rando, let me tell you why we won't be calling Britney Spears or [insert modern musician(s) that'd be especially humorous to today's audience to call classical] "classical music."

The simple answer is that "Old music =/= Classical music," which is usually the joke being made when you see this joke in the first place.

As funny as this joke can be when executed well (this is one of my favorite versions of said joke, especially since this is a future world where there's very little accurate surviving info about the culture from the 21st century), there is VERY little likely of this actually being how music from today is referred to in the future, because, again, music being OLD does not automatically make music CLASSICAL.

If you'd indulge me a moment, have a look at these three pieces from the early 1900s, which is now over 100 years ago. That's pretty old! You don't have to listen to the whole of all of them if you don't want to, but give each around 30 seconds or so of listening.

All three pieces are over 100 years old, but would you call "In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree" classical? Or "The Entertainer?" Most likely not. You'd probably call these songs "old timey" and you may even be savvy enough to call "The Entertainer" by it's actual genre name, ragtime. But if either of these songs came on the radio, you wouldn't really call them classical, would you? They're just old.

Whereas Mahler's Symphony No. 5, now that sounds like classical music to you, doesn't it? It's got trumpets, violins, a conductor, it's being played by a philharmonic! That's a classical musicy word!

The short answer of why we in the real, nonfictional world won't be calling Britney Spears's "Toxic" classical music in 100 years is it simply doesn't sound like classical music.

.....and the long answer is that Mahler's Symphony No. 5 isn't actually classical either.

See, music, just like everything in culture from dress to art to architecture changed with the times, and therefore 'classical music' is technically (although not colloquially) only one of about four to five musical periods/styles you're likely to hear on one of those "classical music tunes to study to" playlists.

Our dear friend Mahler up there was not a classical composer, he was a composer of the late romantic era.

So now, because I have you hostage in my post (just kidding please don't scroll away I had a lot of fun writing this but it took me nearly 3 hours) I'm going to show you the difference between Classical music and the other musical eras.

These are the movements we'll be dealing with, along with the general dates that define them (remembering of course that history is complicated and the Baroque Period didn't magically begin on January 1st, 1600, or end the moment Bach died) :

The Baroque Period (1600-1750)

The Classical Period (1750-1820)

The Romantic Period (1820-1910)

The Impressionist Movement (1890-1920)

You'll notice that as time goes on, the periods themselves grow shorter, and there starts to become some overlap in the late 19th to early 20th century. The world was moving faster, changing faster, and music and art began changing faster as well. Around the beginning of the 20th century music historians quit assigning One Major style to an entire era of history and just started studying those movements themselves, especially since around the 20th century we were getting much more experimentation and unique ideas being explored in the mainstream.

Even the end of the classical to the beginning of the romantic period can get kind of fuzzy, with Beethoven, arguably one of the most famous classical (and yes he was actually classical) composers in history toeing the line between classical and romantic in his later years. The final movement of his 9th symphony, known as Ode to Joy, far more resembles a romantic work than a classical one.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

To oversimplify somewhat, here are the main characteristics of said movements:

The Baroque Period (1600-1750)

Music was very technical and heavily ornamented. This coincided with a very "fancy" style of dress and decoration (the rococo style became popular towards the latter half of this period). The orchestras were far smaller than we are used to seeing in concert halls today, and many instruments we consider essential would not have been present, such as the french horn, a substantial percussion section, or even the piano*. Notable composers include Vivaldi (of the Four Seasons fame), Handel (of the Messiah fame) and Bach:

*the piano as we know it today, initially called the pianoforte due to its ability to play both softly (piano) and loudly (forte) in contrast to the harpsichord, which could only play at one dynamic level, was actually invented around 1700, but didn't initially gain popularity until much later. This Bach Concerto would have traditionally been played on a harpsichord rather than a piano, but the piano really does have such a far greater expressive ability that unless a group is going for Historical Accuracy, you'll usually see a piano used in performances of baroque work today.

The Classical Period (1750-1820)

In the classical period, music became more "ordered," not just metaphorically but literally. The music was carefully structured, phrases balanced evenly in a sort of call and response manner. Think of twinkle twinkle little star's extremely balanced phrasing, itself a tune that Mozart took and applied 12 classical variations to, cementing it in popularity. And speaking of twinkle twinkle, memorable melody became more important to the composition than ornamentation, and many of our most universally known melodies in the west come from this period. The orchestra also grew bigger, adding more players of all kinds as now we didn't have to worry about overpowering the single-volume harpsichord, and additional instruments like more brass and woodwinds were added. Notable composers include Haydn (of The Surprise Symphony fame) Beethoven (of, well, Fame), and Mozart:

Pay attention to the size of the orchestra here, then go back to the Bach concerto. Notice how in that very typical Baroque setting, the orchestra sits at maybe 20 people, and that here in a Classical setting, there's nearly two times that!

The Romantic Period (1820-1910)

In the romantic period, it was all about BIG FEELINGS, MAN. It was about the DRAMA. Orchestras got even bigger than before, the music focused less on balance and became more dramatic, and there was a big focus on emotions, individualism, and nationalism. Discerning listeners will notice a lot of similarities between romantic symphonies and modern film scores; John Williams in particular is very clearly influenced by this era, any time I'd play the famous Ride of the Valkyries by Wagner in a class, the kids would remark that it sounds like it should be in Star Wars. A lot of romantic composers were German, including Beethoven, if you want to call his later works romantic (which I and many others argue you can, again, compare Ode to Joy to one of his earlier works and you can hear and see the difference), but you also have the Hungarian Liszt (of the Hungarian Rhapsodies fame), the Russian Tchaikovsky (of the Nutcracker and 1812 Overture fame), and the Czech Dvořák:

See how this orchestra is even bigger still? Modern orchestras tend to vary in size depending on what pieces they are playing, but the standard is much closer to this large, romantic size, and it's far less typical to see a small, intimate Baroque setting unless specifically attending a Baroque focused concert. Also I know I embedded Dvořák because Symphony From a New World slaps but please also listen to Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 it's one of my all time favorite pieces and NOT just because of the Tom and Jerry cartoon, alright? Alright.

The Impressionist Movement (1890-1920)

A bit after it began but definitely still during the romantic period, a counter movement began in France that turned away from the emotional excess of romanticism and focused less on standard chord progression and explored more unconventional scales. This music was less worried about how it 'should' sound and was more concerned with evoking a certain emotion or image, giving you an "impression" of an idea. Debussy is by far the most well known name in this movement, even though he personally hated the term 'impressionism,' lol.

Notice the way the periods build on each other naturally, literally, physically builds on the orchestras that came before, evolving in style and structure until you get to the late 19th and early 20th century when things were built up so big that a response to that excess started to develop, first in the impressionist movement, and then into 20th century music in general, which got much more experimental and, as we say, "weird." (frickin 12 tone scales, man)* *i do not actually dislike the sound of 12 tone, it's interesting and unique, but it is HELL to analyze in music theory, which is unfortunately when a lot of us classical musicians are first introduced to it, therefore tarnishing our relationship to the genre as we cannot separate it from our own undergrad anguish

Even if you're not a super active listener and you have a harder time discerning the difference between, say, late baroque and early classical, you cannot deny that the first piece I've linked by Bach and the last piece I've linked by Debussy sound completely different. They're both orchestral pieces (I intentionally chose all orchestral pieces as my examples here, getting into solo works, opera, and chamber ensembles would take too long), but other than that, they couldn't be more different.

Wait, so what are we talking about again?

Classical Music is first a period of music, a specific artistic movement with music typically written in Europe between 1750 and 1820 with a specific sound that is distinct from these other styles I've outlined here.

And Classical Music is second a genre. Because while academically and historically Baroque music is not classical, and Romantic music is not classical...colloquially it is. They sound similar enough that it makes sense to put them on the same playlists, the same radio stations, the same 'beats to study to' youtube compilation videos. While individuals may have favorites and preferences, it's not far fetched to say that if you like listening to one of these styles, you'll at least like one of the others.

But whether you're being broad and referring to our modern idea of the classical genre, or you're being pedantic like me and referring to a specific period of musical history (or modern compositions emulating that style, because yeah, modern compositions of all of theses styles do exist), I think we can all agree that, as much as it slaps, "Toxic" by Britney Spears is not classical music, and 500 years is unlikely to change our perspective of that.

A Traditional Ballad though?

Yeah, I can see us calling it that in 5 billion years.

(the full version of this scene is age restricted for some reason, but you can watch it here)

Anyway, thanks for reading y'all, have a good one!

[aquariet]

Nobody asked for it but I did it anyway

Have a nice post of me talking about every lyric in the song unsweetened lemonade and why it fits Icarus Morningstar. This was 100% inspirated by sage’s 18000+ word post analyzing the sherb playlist.

Since this is about a single song it lucky is only 952 words long.

What a lovely way to simply appear on tumblr again.

Now I’m gonna stop yapping.

I hope this is enjoyable.

“My eyes are made of acid”

The fact that one of Icarus’s eyes isn’t Normal. It’s constantly bleeding and thinking too much about specific things caused it to hurt.

“And my tongue is sharp with spite”

Icarus and manipulation. Their tongue being sharp with spite is cause they will say anything to get more people on their side. Both during the corruption arc and mid to end season 3.

“Attention whore with too much pride”

They want to believe what’s being told to them. By fable or in season 1 enderian. They wouldn’t listen to anyone that tried to tell them otherwise. Rea,Athena,Centross. Even the things.

“There's no one I wouldn't fight”

End season 3 and corruption arc. Icarus would fight anyone for the approval and attention of the gods.

“I don't like confrontation but”

He doesn’t want to have to kill people. But he does.

“I'm staring at the sun”

Them screaming at the sky in season one and Them screaming at the sky at quixis. Screaming at something that won’t talk back. That seems to only keep hurting them. (This is the last season 1 to season 3 comparison I swear)

“I won't quit until my eyes go red”

They need to stop quixis. No matter what.

“I'll finish what's begun”

Killing Hailey. They needed to do it publicly. So that everyone could see.

“I fucked the reaper cause I knew”

Prison duo after the cave. Icarus doing whatever they can to get centross back. Even if it’s a path straight down to hell.

“My time was coming can't you see”

The glitching in Icarus’s chest after the cave. It was gonna kill them and that was certain by the end of the finale.

“I'd do anything for twenty bucks”

Icarus would do anything for some sense of love. Specifically parental love. Obviously from fable. But also from enderian in the end reset. That’s their aunt. They don’t remember it. But it’s the only ‘real’ family Icarus knows.

“I'd sell my sour soul”

They would. Yea I have no real addiction to this lyric. Icarus literally almost died in the cave when fable tried to rip the glitching from their body. And yet they were grateful for it. They’d sell their live for their dad.

“Cause lemonade is bitter”

Young Icarus being like their dad. Hell. Icarus without the eye being very able to kill.

“Till you sweeten up the bowl”

The eye. The only reason Icarus didn’t kill more people. They wasn’t able to cause they weren’t 100% themselves. The piece of hardcore sherb keeping Icarus at bay.

“And I'm sitting in the bathroom”

Icarus being isolated. Far away from everyone.

“I'm crying citrus tears”

The wack. The reason they are isolated. They don’t want it to hurt others.

“Everything I used to love decayed over the years”

isla, momboo, centross. Icarus loved them. And had to loose them.

“It's hard to finish sentences I'll sell my pride instead”

They never had good reasons for the things they’re doing. And the things point that out. Quixis points it out. And what does Icarus do. They ignore it. They “sell their pride instead” cause if they admit they’re wrong they have to admit that all the bad they’ve done wasn’t for something good.

“Cause it's easier to focus I'm just the price above my head”

It’s easier to list to fable. To believe that they are nothing more than whatever he tells them to be.

“People think I'm pretty So I'll buy a hotel room.One bed trope without the tension”

fable gives them praise so they run away with him. Even though fable is almost never actually at the house. There is no tension cause they don’t spend enough time in the same space to have any.

“The child and her groom”

Icarus and Isla. The ‘good child’ and the ‘perfect wife’

“I didn't die at 12”

Icarus was supposed to die as a kid. Be dragged to the world port and done. However that didn’t happen. They kept living.

“I guess I'm here till 93”

By the time Icarus actually ‘dies’ they’re easily an adult. But before then Icarus is stuck in the same loop. Fall, forget, rescue fable, repeat.

“Enemies to lovers”

Icarus talking about fable. In the beginning he was the enemy. He was the bad guy. Then by season 2 he wasn’t anymore he was their dad.

“but you'll never own my heart”

Fable might be Icarus’s dad. But he never really makes any attempt to be a dad unless it benefits him and his needs. He’ll never own Icarus’s heart. Cause he’ll never try to.

“One sided it's pathetic”

Icarus does love fable though. He’s their dad. He gives them praise he believes in them. Or at least that’s what Icarus believes.

“How you think you're being smart”

Icarus thinking he can go to malici and just talk them into joining their side. His dads side. Without his dads help so that they can proof he’s worth it.

“Worthless parents make stupid kids”

Fable being an asshole dad directly affecting Icarus.

“The apple never strays”

Icarus ends up as a carbon copy of fable.

“Your conscience never compromised”

All the deaths being seen as okay cause they’re all gonna come back. They are gonna get them all back.

“And ego never pays”

Fable ended up too confident in themselves. Blabbing on and revealing everything in front of Icarus lead him to his death.

“I'd do anything for twenty bucks To feel more in control”

Icarus would do anything to stop the whack. Anything to make quixis do as they want. Anything to make sure things go as Icarus wants it to go.

If you can think of anything I missed (it’s probably a lot) don’t hesitate to let me know. I love to learn more little things about our favorite bird

[im-immortal]

AO3 Roundup 2024

thank you so much for the tag @galadrieljones ! (seriously such an honor from a writer i admire so much)

tagging: @mistressheroine @pipergirl17 @piper1016 @littlelindentree @weapon13whitefang @not-so-austen @lemortehomme @raginglittlehurricane @spield @rckyfrk @deerdens @xx-cherryballerina (and anyone else who feels like doing this, pls tag me so i can read and like your post, i love you all)

—Words posted: 327,634

—Additional Words Written: unknown, but probably close to 450,000

—Grand total of words: girl idk. let's call it 500k just to be safe, especially if we're including all the words i deleted lmao

—Fandoms: The Walking Dead

—Works: another installation of Let us always find each other, To Love is To Be Alive, and Small Miracles

—Highest Kudos: Small Miracles

—Highest Hit One-shot: To Love is To Be Alive

—New Things I Tried: writing an almost-cross-over with Beth/Daryl and Detroit: Become Human. that was a fun venture into a different universe that was not of my own creation, fitting in two characters who definitely didn't belong and somehow making them belong. writing not one, but two OC's that people actually care about in Small Miracles. i genuinely didn't think anyone would care much for Gale or Mae, but now they've become nearly as beloved to the readers as they are to me and honestly, i cannot describe how good that makes me feel! particularly for my little sentient zombie boy <3

—Fic I Spent the Most Time On: Small Miracles ... and i am still spending time on it. y'all have no idea. i made playlists, i listened to songs on repeat, i added and extracted and added again to the outline, i brainstormed during downtime at work, i got new ideas while watching movies and shows. i am still doing all those things, i'm just not quite capable of putting thoughts and ideas into words like i was throughout the majority of 2024.

—Fic I Spent the Least Time On: To Love is To Be Alive -- it came to me fast and hard, i wrote it in about 2-3 weeks because it was so rapidly coming into my head and i just had to get it out.

—Favourite Thing I Wrote: Small Miracles ... duh. i fucking love this fic and still do. i can't wait to finish it.

—Favorite Thing I Read: as far as books go (pls message me if you want to add me on Goodreads), my favorite reads this year were:

The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix

A Novel Love Story by Ashley Poston

The Nanny by Lana Ferguson

Last Light by Claire Kent (this one is for all my Bethyl girlies--it's extremely Daryl/Beth-coded, so if you love Bethyl and you love post-apocalypse fiction with a healthy dash of smut, you should definitely give it a try)

and for fanfiction, i'm gonna narrow it down and say it's a tie between:

afterglow by galadrieljones

Love in the Wilderness by LeighJ

Sweet Willow by CherryParfait

Revenant by devils_might_heed_us

La Dame Blanche by MistressHeroine

genealogy by wandering_gypsy_feet

qué será, será by moonshineshacks

—Something I Finished: ummm let's be so real... the only thing i actually finished this year was To Love is To Be Alive ... sorry about that for my readers. i swear to GOD i'm doing my best to finish at least ONE more thing omg

—Miscellaneous Highlights: i played a lot more video games and read a lot more books this year than i think i have in the last five years, so that's a highlight for me (hello, i actually discovered, played, and rapidly became obsessed with the entire Life is Strange series and its universe, as well as all of the Supermassive games, from Until Dawn to The Quarry and through the entire Dark Pictures Anthology!) because i love taking inspiration from other fiction in every form. i'm very proud of myself. also, i started converting my fic Lunacy Fringe into an original novel, and it's about 3/4th of the way finished, so i am actually excited to finish that and put it out into the world just to say i did it, just to say that i actually wrote my own original novel and contributed it to the millions upon millions of self-published novels available online lol (i guess i wanna contribute to The Zeitgeist ?? idk if i'm even using that correctly??). i also pushed myself and delved into writing OC's into one of my fics and found that it was well-received, which gave me a bit of a confidence boost! not to mention, i reread Wild Love by LeighJ and commented (because for some reason i didn't comment the first time i read it?? what the hell was wrong with me?) and it ended up sparking her to add some deleted scenes and create a series that i now ADORE, and there is nothing i love more than encouraging other writers and seeing what they can come up with when they're reminded of how much their writing is appreciated. i am also incredibly proud and appreciative of @mistressheroine for everything she's written this year and all the help she's given me in my own writing, and for being such an amazing friend and just an overall great person to talk to and fangirl with. also mad kudos to @raginglittlehurricane for our shared obsession with Kyle Gallner and the Dinner in America movie, and all those countless tiktok edits we send to each other (girl, i am impatiently awaiting the release of that DiA fic... just saying).

—Writing Goals for 2025:

finish Small Miracles.

finish hot girl summer (playing by the rules).

start posting and continue writing cuffing season (part 6 of in for a penny, in for a pound).

add some chapters/possibly complete who we gotta be and Redire A Morte.

finally finish and publish Lunacy Fringe as an original novel.

somehow make time to finish and post the final chapters of Don't Make Me Haunt You.

make some more headway on my original zombie apocalypse novel, even if it's just a fully-fleshed outline.

—Final Thoughts: i have a lot of shit on my plate, especially for a sleepy bitch who works full-time and also enjoys other endeavors like movies, shows, and video games. (ps: give me a follow on twitch @im1mmortal to see me livestream like two or three times a month lol) but all in all, i feel like i am continuing to learn and grow as a writer and at the end of the day, that's all that really matters to me. i want to read as many books as i can, consume as much well-written media as possible, and learn as much as possible when it comes to making my own dreams come true. i know i have a lot of WIPs sitting around just waiting to be finished, and believe me, i see all the comments urging me to continue and finish, and i desperately want to, but i have to go off of vibes. it sounds lame, but it's true. i refuse to write unless i feel like i am writing from my heart. i erase anything that feels forced or soulless. quality over quantity all day, every day. but i also recognize that i'm kind of an idiot who has a strength in starting things and reaching the point of climax, and my greatest weakness is actually writing the climax and reaching the conclusion. i'm working on that all the time, and i strive to change it. but what really keeps me going is the feedback and the random comments and messages, even if they're months or years later, letting me know that something i wrote resonated with someone far away who i will never meet or actually know. it gives me all the motivation i need. i just have to find that last little passage past the mental block to continue writing and actually finish something. oh... and the energy LOL. seriously tho, i love this fandom, i adore all of the various fics i've been blessed enough to read because they offer such different perspectives on characters and settings and they open up my mind to entirely new possibilities. not to mention, i've made some of the absolute best friends through fandom and fanfic. i wouldn't trade it for the world. all i ask for is a little patience and understanding. and i really hope to keep you all in my heart and see y'all on the other side of whatever this is as we traverse life and fiction and discover how the two overlap in ways we never could have imagined <3

as we all get older, in the best of ways, let's fuck 2025 right in the mouth

[simcoesleftear]

TURNsgiving Day 2: What do you think a character's favorite song would be? OR pick a song you think best exemplifies your favorite character.

I'm doing Simcoe, of course.

Lots of ramblings under the cut 🥰

I didn't go for the option of choosing what I think would be his favorite because I haven't the faintest idea. He's full of surprises.

If he listened to contemporary music, I do suspect he'd be into some pretty emo/scene bands, though. Something like, emotional, edgy, "different", even a bit cringy; the stuff you're into mostly when you're an angsty teenager or remember fondly from those years, basically because he is kind of a big, emo, misunderstood child to me. I also think he'd have "guilty pleasures" (or maybe not so guilty? Does this man even know what guilt or shame are?) that would come from totally different genres of music and artists you would not "expect" him to listen to. Maybe something like, idk, Lana del Rey or something. I'm not sure enough to name specific artists for this either but he'd most likely be into romantic, dramatic ballads and music too.

NOW I do have a few songs that remind me of him though... lol. And I'm holding myself back because I actually have a little playlist I made of songs that remind me of my Simcoe x Turn OC fic (it'd be unfair to add them too because most of them remind me of either their dynamic or my OC herself).

Again, idk if he'd actually listen to these, but the ones I've added are coincidentally angsty, heavier (more death metal, though, not emo/scene) songs and a romantic one, haha.

This song literally opens with the line "I killed them all, of course" and also has:

Label me, however you like I am no villain, I am just, just like you

I'm no villain! I am just like you We're in the business of self-preservation I'm no villain! I am just like you We're in the business of self-preservation

The only grave worth lying in Is the one you dig yourself

Need I explain this one? lol

And from the same band (it's one of my faves 🤷‍♀️):

Catch me if you can I am faster than your mind can fathom Armed with the element of surprise I slither through the corners of your eyes Pull me inside your wildest dreams I will follow - I will follow In the wreckage of what I perceive I will follow - I will follow I'll take your unwillingness And make you crumble! I'll take your hesitance And watch you burn!

I don't know, this song just sort of captures Simcoe's essence to me but I'm not sure I can really explain why, but it has to do with his polarity.

Simcoe's been attributed dog-like characteristics a few times during the show: he's been called a bloodhound, a mad dog. Clinton, in the last episode, also compared him to the dogs they use for hunting, saying the hunt and following orders are all they know. And even if his motivations were misguided, I dare say Simcoe intended to act as Anna's guard dog, even if she didn't want him to either. That's just his idea of protection. To me, he's all these things: a mad attack dog who'll also guard you, follow you, and be fiercely loyal.

In the lyrics you get this sense of menace but also something "sweeter" and more mellow, specially in the "I will follow" parts. It's not entirely because of the lyrics either: the vocals range from growling to clean, melodic ones (and they're all coming from the same singer as well! Which is not a minor detail! Symbolism?). That sort of mixture is something I'll automatically relate to Simcoe.

And last but not least:

The lyrics are very poetic, and even though Sandro was the ultimate romantic (that and his sensuality were most of his brand), they sort of reminded me of Simcoe's poem for Anna: dramatic, a bit cheesy, so full of longing and surrender to one's lover, who is described using embellished metaphors.

But my favorite part's the chorus, because it repeats:

Si quieres yo te doy el mundo Pero no me pidas que no te ame así

Which means:

If you want, I'll give you the world But don't ask me not to love you like this

Ouch. Gets me every time 😭

Lol at first I thought I had no idea about how to go about this and ended up making this whole thing 😭 anyway that's it :)