#but man today I’m finding out people exist who have good notes on all the content. who does that

[exopelagic]

I HIT 50 PER CENT BAY BEEEEEEE

[jaeyunverse]

the perks of having a hot best friend

pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader

genres: fluff, crack, mild angst, best friends to lovers, college au

wc: 14336

warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, jeno is shirtless in a scene phew, too many idol features SORRY i lowk lost track of who i’ve included. i think that is all but lmk if you find something else!

summary: having a hot best friend is nice until you start getting butterflies in your stomach every single time you look at them.

note: JAEYUNVERSE COMEBACK WOOO i’ve missed writing long fics so much omfg but i’m shitting bricks as we speak LOL it’s been a while since i’ve posted something big and i won’t lie i’m hella nervous. i rlly hope you guys enjoy this fic ♡ please don’t hesitate to give me your feedback! here’s to hoping my writing skills haven’t become as rusty as i think i have hehe :’))

masterlist

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐊𝐒 !

01. an abundance of freebies and discounts

Lee Jeno knew the power his smile held. 

All it took was one flirty laugh combined with those sleepy eyes of his for people to melt. Being the resourceful person you were, you utilised that talent of his to its full extent. 

“Can you go and flirt with the cashier so she gives us a free muffin?” 

Your best friend gave you a dirty look. “You do realise this is supposed to be your treat, right?” 

“I am paying!” you exclaimed. “Just go do your thing and make her feel generous enough to slip a free dessert in our order.” 

Jeno rolled his eyes, but you knew you’d won. You almost always did. “Fine, whatever. You owe me one though.” 

“I’m feeding you because I owe you one,” you pointed out. “This makes us equal.”

“How riveting. I have to work so the person who owes me doesn’t have to owe me anymore.” 

“We can argue about this for hours or you can haul ass to the counter and place the damn order. I’ll Venmo you the money the moment you’re back,” you promised. 

Sliding out of the booth, Jeno said, “You’re lucky you’re cute. If this were Jaemin, I wouldn’t be letting him off the hook easily.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and shooed him away. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. 

“Hey!” you cried. “Don’t take me with you! The flirting won’t have any effect on her if she thinks we’re together!” 

“Everyone thinks we’re together,” Jeno muttered and got in line behind an old man. “She checked me out when we entered the cafe, saw you arm-in-arm with me and gave you the dirtiest look to ever exist.” 

You snorted. “Liar. You might be an eye candy but you do not command such a high level of attention.”   

“I’m telling the truth!” he argued. “I would know because I was checking out the drink she placed on the counter. I was trying to figure out what the person’s order might have been to get something so incredibly delicious-looking. I saw her out of the corner of my eye.” 

“Oh.” You frowned and took a step forward when the line moved ahead. “That’s unfortunate. Should we go to another cafe and try our hand at getting something free there?” 

“How about you stop being such a cheap skate for once?”

Slapping his shoulder hard, you grumbled, “I have to bear the weight of my goddamn rent alone while you share yours with three others! I need to cut down on certain things, asshole.” 

“My offer to move in with you next semester still stands.” Jeno wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m a really good housemate; ask the others.” 

“You live with boys. The disgusting things you do don’t bother them because they do them too.” 

He closed his mouth and thought about it for a second. Then, “Touché.” 

You rolled your eyes, but before you could make another snarky comment, a pleasant voice interrupted, “Good morning. What can I get for you today?” 

Jeno averted his gaze to the girl standing behind the counter and let a lazy smile take form on his lips. You raised a brow and watched in amusement. 

“Hey there. Can I get a Strawberries & Crème Frappuccino with 1 pump caramel syrup, 1 pump hazelnut syrup, and 1 pump toffee-nut syrup? Java chips too, please.” 

The girl—Lia, according to her name tag—looked surprised to see him blatantly flirting with you right beside him. Maybe he was right about every stranger assuming the two of you to be together, though you couldn’t fathom why. “O—okay.”

“What do you want, friend?” Jeno stressed the last word. Refraining to roll your eyes a second time, you said, 

“Iced coffee without milk. Could you add some sugar to the brew? I prefer my drinks to be sweet.” 

“Of course,” she said and nodded once, unfazed even after learning of Jeno’s status as an eligible bachelor. 

Snorting under your breath, you whispered to him, “Lia doesn’t give a fuck. You’re lacking.” 

He scoffed and nudged you away. “No, I’m not,” he whisper-snapped. “Get out of here. You’re killing my vibe.” 

You deadpanned and gave him a don’t-bullshit-me look but retreated to your booth nonetheless. The last thing you heard Lia ask was: “Anything else?” 

You’d only been sitting and scrolling through your phone for a few minutes before a hand slapped a receipt on the table in front of you. 

Glancing up, you inquired, “What?” 

“Read the order.” 

Dropping your gaze to the piece of paper again, you picked it up. An appreciative frown tugged at your lips as Jeno slid into his seat. “You managed to get us a free muffin and a free bagel?”

“Don’t ever question my talents again,” he ordered and leaned back. Resting his arm on the cushion behind him and placing his ankle on his knee, his attitude was nothing short of a king’s. “I won’t tolerate any further slander.” 

“Uh-huh,” you muttered, utterly unimpressed. Though you admit, a smile threatened to break out on your face and you had to bite your lip to keep it from escaping. 

Jeno raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for something. All you did was stare at him, and when he realised you wouldn’t budge, he did an extremely horrible and high-pitched imitation of you that should have deserved jail. “Thank you sooooooo much, Jeno! If it weren’t for your flirting skills, I wouldn’t have anything to eat. You’re my one and only saviour, and I don’t know what I would have done without—”

“Order for Jeno!” Lia hollered. 

Said-boy flinched and clutched his heart with his hand. “What the… That was quick.” Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to you, the tips of his ears red and his face flushed. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. Venmo me the bill amount.” 

You snickered and watched him get up. However, before he could move out of earshot, you called his name. “Thank you for your service.” 

Jeno glanced at you over his shoulder and did nothing but observe you for a moment. Then, a lopsided grin took form on his lips and he mock saluted. 

“You’re welcome.” 

02. gives good boy advice

“What are you doing here?” 

Pushing past you, Jeno strolled into your living room and plopped down on your sofa. “Is that any way to greet your best friend?” 

You rolled your eyes and closed the front door. Sitting down beside him, you placed your laptop on your lap again and resumed going through your notes. “I’m being serious. Were we supposed to hang out today? Because I cannot. I still have three finals left.” 

“No, we didn’t have any plans today,” he said, peering over your shoulder to check what subject you were studying. It was Economics. Horrible memories from the previous semester resurfaced and he shuddered before continuing, “Your text said you wanted to talk about something important?” 

You paused and glanced at him. “So you came over?” 

“Do you want me to leave?” Jeno frowned. “I thought it would be better to talk in person.”

He stood up and dusted himself off. Eyes widening, you grabbed his wrist and forced him back to his original position. “That’s not what I meant! I do want to talk to you but—it’s weird. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever has happened right now and I’m getting second thoughts about asking you for advice.” 

Concern seeped into Jeno’s face. “Woah, are you okay? You don’t have to explain anything right now. Just tell me one thing: do I need to beat anyone up? I’ve got a few gym buddies who are ripped.”

You huffed a laugh and placed your laptop on the coffee table. Crossing your legs, you turned to face him. Upon watching you get comfortable, your best friend rolled his shoulders back and did the same thing. 

“Before I say anything, I need you to promise me that you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me. Or call me an idiot.” 

“I won’t,” he answered immediately, though he wondered what issue warranted you to require his word. 

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “YangYang asked me out a few days ago. I’ve always liked him, but not in a way that’s not platonic. I fucked up and instead of rejecting him right there, I asked him for some time to think it over and kinda led him to believe that I would say yes.”

Jeno raised an eyebrow. “How?” 

“I told him he’s my type,” you mumbled, cringing at the memories that came rushing back. 

“What?!” he exclaimed. “How the hell did you manage to do that?” 

“I don’t know!” you whined and buried your face in your hands. “He came up to me when I was in the library and asked if we could talk! I didn’t know he was going to drop such a bomb on me so I said yes. Then he started talking about how he’s always cherished our friendship and how he’s so glad to have me.

“I started suspecting where his train of thought was headed when he added a but to his sentence. He said he’s liked me for a while now and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. I was flabbergasted once he was done! I’ve always viewed him as a good friend and I didn’t want to just turn his heart down!”

“So you told him he was your type?” Jeno asked incredulously. “I know I promised to not call you an idiot but you’re really fucking stupid, Y/N! It’s going to be hella awkward when the group meets up!” 

You groaned and closed your eyes shut, letting yourself fall on your back. “That’s not even the worst part.” 

Jeno grabbed your wrists and hauled you back up. His face was barely a few inches away from yours when he ordered, “Explain.”

Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I told YangYang that he was cute and my type but I wasn’t in a position to think about going out with anyone with still two weeks of finals left to get through. I thought he would drop it but he asked me if I would think about his confession after our exams and I felt terrible telling him the truth. So I said I would. Yeji called me last night and said she set me up on a blind date with this guy in her class. You know how fast word spreads here. YangYang is going to know I dangled him on strings only to go on a date with someone else!” 

“You’re going on a blind date? With whom?” 

You flicked Jeno’s forehead. “That’s not the issue!” 

“Well, I want to know!” he sputtered and slapped your hand away. 

“I don’t know! Frankly, I don’t care either. I made a bet with Yeji and I lost. Now I have to spend an evening with a random guy I don’t even want to seek a romantic relationship with.” 

Your best friend sighed in frustration. “This might be one of your biggest fuck-ups till now.”

“I know,” you said quietly and dropped your gaze to your lap in shame. 

“You’ll have to apologise to YangYang and tell him the truth. He’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve any of this.” 

“I know.” 

“Hey,” Jeno said softly. You glanced at him to see he’d gotten up and was holding his out for you. “Come here.” 

You rose to your feet and let him envelop you in his comforting embrace. Burying your face in his chest, you whispered, “I never wanted to hurt YangYang. I don’t want to lose him as a friend.” 

“You won’t as long as you come clean and explain everything. Don’t insult him further by giving him more half-truths. Guys would rather know what’s the real deal than be lied to and find out from someone else. Not only is it hurtful, but it’s a huge blow to the ego.”  

Your lips curled in a small smile and you leaned back a little to look at his face. “Is this about your mom lying to you about the tooth fairy?” 

“Damn right it is,” he grumbled. “I gave an entire speech about her being my favourite person in the whole world. That’s not something you recover from easily.”

“It’s been 15 years.”

“It’ll take me another 15 to come to terms with the fact that I used to rip my loose teeth out and place them under my pillow when I needed money urgently.” 

You laughed and pulled yourself out of his arms. “I can’t believe I’m taking guy advice from you.” 

“Why?” Jeno exclaimed. “I’m a guy too! Plus, I always give good advice!” 

You giggled and plopped down on the sofa again. “I know. But you’re also Jeno. I’ve never thought of you as just a guy.” 

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.” 

“How about you sit your ass down and help me study now that you’re here? I made flash cards.” 

Snatching the stack from your hand, Jeno teased, “Oh, how would you survive without me?”

“I don’t have to wonder about that shit.” You grinned. “There’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.” 

He laughed. “And thank fuck for that.” 

03. hugs always make you feel safe thanks to all the beef underneath

You were going to drag Jeno to the seventh circle of Hell. 

You couldn’t afford to go grocery shopping with him when you had a huge exam the next day. You hadn’t studied shit and were one “have you prepared for tomorrow’s final?” away from a mental breakdown. 

It didn’t help that Yeji had called you in the middle of the night to clear a doubt she had from a chapter you didn’t even know had been covered.

You’d been panicking ever since and it felt like you were going to get a heart attack at any moment.  

“Doritos or Lays?” 

“Kick to the nuts or knuckles to the jaw?” 

Your best friend tore his gaze from the rack of chips and eyed you warily. “I said I’ll help you study tonight.” 

“You don’t understand, Jeno!” you exclaimed and ran a hand through your messy hair, pacing in the supermarket aisle impatiently. “I’m going to fail! Fail!”  

Groaning, Jeno grabbed your arm and forced you to face him. He held your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, enunciating each word as he reiterated, “You’re not going to fail. We’re going to pull an all-nighter in the library, but we need to be stocked up on food before we do that.” 

You sighed painfully. It burned your eyes to just focus on anything—how the hell were you supposed to stay awake for another day and write a three-hour-long exam after that? 

“You could have come here without dragging me with you,” you muttered. “I could have been studying at home instead of wasting precious time.”

Jeno frowned. “Any more time in front of your laptop and you would have gone insane, Y/N. Your eyes are completely red.” 

“Oh, that’s not because of the screen time. I cried before you came to check on me.” 

Huffing a small laugh that bordered on exasperation, amusement and worry, Jeno threw a few packets of Doritos in the shopping cart before slinging an arm around your neck. You let him pull you against him and wrapped your arms around his waist as the two of you began walking. 

“Well, you needed to get out anyway. I don’t remember the last time I saw you leave your apartment.” 

“I stepped outside yesterday to play with the neighbour’s cat,” you said defensively. 

“Not good enough,” Jeno popped. “We’re going to go get a massage once we’re done shopping.” 

You stopped in your tracks and peeled yourself away from him. “The final is in twenty-eight hours!” you yelled, staring at him incredulously. “Are you fucking stupid?!” 

“So you have plenty of time to de-stress before you start studying again!” he chirped, paying no heed to your concerns nor the people who had heard your outburst and were giving you odd looks. “Trust me, I went for a massage before my final and I was so relaxed. It helped me to focus too.” 

“Jeno,” you uttered his name with barely contained impatience. “I don’t have time. I need to cover a lot of shit before I go and sit in the fucking examination hall.” 

“And I said I’ll help!” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated. Pushing the shopping cart forward again, he studied the shelves and continued, “You always do this, Y/N. You freak out before a test and act like the world is ending only for you to do super well.”

“Well—” you began, stumbling after him— “that’s just my coping mechanism! The more worried I am, the better I do. But I’m screwed for real this time!” 

“No,” Jeno popped, placing a 2-litre bottle of Sprite in the cart. “I’m not listening to you this time. Especially not after you stayed awake for three days straight for your midterm.” 

You sighed again. There was no arguing with your best friend. “How long is this massage of yours going to take?” 

“We’ll be back at your place in two hours max,” he reassured you, patting your head. You swatted his hand away and gave him a dirty look. “I think we have everything we need to make it through today and tomorrow.” 

“Why do we need such a big bottle of Sprite?” 

“Party at my place this weekend. There’s a discount so I’m buying in advance.”

You frowned. “Shouldn’t you be stocking up on booze?”

“The guys said I have an alcohol addiction,” Jeno said, getting in line at the billing counter. “Which is, like, totally untrue but you know I never back down from a challenge. I’m going to prove them wrong by staying sober for two weeks.”

“Sure,” you snorted. “You’ll just find lame loopholes or cheat when no one’s looking.”

A sly grin took form on Jeno’s lips. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and drawled, “I know what you do when no one’s looking.”

“Really?” You feigned a gasp. “You know I sneak over to your house and steal your food when you’re not there?”

His smile dropped immediately. “Wait, what? That’s you? Not Hyuck?”

“The food thief is me but the one stealing your sheet masks is Hyuck,” you admitted.

“He steals my masks?! The ones I buy are expensive as fuck!” Jeno exclaimed, betrayal seeping into his features. His hands fell to his side and his eyes turned distant. “I can’t believe he’s been gaslighting me into thinking I do an extra round of skincare when I’m drunk.”

You giggled and pushed the shopping cart forward once the person in front of you was done. Placing the contents on the billing counter for the cashier to scan, you revealed, “Hyuck saw me raiding your pantry when you were at the gym. He used that as leverage against me for weeks before I saw him stealing your sheet masks and was able to finally strike a deal—he turns a blind eye to my robberies and I turn a blind eye to his.”

“Why’d you team up with him?” Jeno pouted. “I thought we were best friends.”

You laughed incredulously. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the part where Hyuck and I used your stuff without asking?”

“Well, yeah, I’m pissed you used my shit. But I guess I’m just a little more bothered that you guys teamed up,” Jeno said and shrugged, fetching his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Because, you know, coming together to make people suffer has always been our thing.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by how he was beating around the bush. “Are you saying you wanna team up with me to get back at Hyuck?”

Jeno grinned. “I’m gonna screw over that motherfucker so bad. You get off the hook, though, because you’re cute and I need your help.”

“You’re impossible.” You huffed and shook your head. Taking the bag of groceries, you said to him, “Text me my share and I’ll Venmo the money to you.”

“You could buy me an ice cream instead.”

“No,” you denied immediately. “We’re not wasting time on ice cream. Massage and then straight home so I can pick up my study material and we can leave for the library.”

Thankfully, Jeno didn’t protest. He drove you to your apartment complex and waited for you while you packed your bag. Then, the two of you were off to the massage place.

An hour later, you were done and forced to admit that the massage had indeed helped you. It felt like all the stress had left your body. Thinking about the final didn’t make you want to cry anymore and things were actually looking up now that you were rested.

You were able to retain the knowledge better and it was easier to understand the concepts. Jeno quizzed you and provided you with an endless supply of coffee throughout the night.

Right before lunch the next day, however, the panic resurfaced as you were revising your syllabus for the last time before your final at 3. You couldn’t seem to remember anything you had studied the previous night. 

You could feel another breakdown coming, but before you could hyperventilate, Jeno scooped you up in his arms.

You hadn’t even realised when he’d come back from picking up your food. One minute, you were trying to control your breath and the next, your face was buried in his hard chest.

You held onto his shirt as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and he rocked you from side to side.

“Shh, don’t cry,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “You’re gonna ace the final like you always do. You were able to answer all the quiz questions, so keep in mind that you are prepared. The pre-exam anxiety is just clouding your thoughts. Everything’s gonna come back to you when you sit down to write, alright?”

Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and bit down on your lip to keep a sob from escaping. Jeno’s presence kept acting like a tether for you. It always had.

Maybe he was right about the final. Maybe he wasn’t. But at that moment, engulfed in his warm, safe embrace, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 !

01. having to deal with a narcissistic asshole. 

It was an especially sweltering day. 

You were being baked inside-out despite wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, your hair tied in a messy high bun. Adding to your torment was your broken A/C. You’d requested your landlord to fix it several times but your efforts were to no avail. 

You would have kept bothering him incessantly and gotten the job done if you weren’t so intimidated by him already. 

Sighing, you eyed your bathroom. A cold shower sounded like an amazing idea. Jeno wasn’t supposed to come over to watch the movie for a while anyway. 

Deciding to cool yourself and get rid of the sweat sticking to your body, you entered the tiny bathroom. A high-pitched squeal left your mouth the moment you turned the shower knob and the cold water hit your skin. 

“Fuck,” you cursed and flinched, turning the knob the other way immediately. Your shitty apartment didn’t even have a valve to adjust the temperature—the water was either mildly hot or ice cold. Showering in summer was always a big problem.

“God, I don’t wanna keep doing this,” you mumbled to yourself and stepped into your room again. 

There was this… thing you’d been doing ever since you moved into this apartment. Whenever it was hot, you’d work out so you’d get more sweaty. That way, when you showered under the ice-cold water, it didn’t feel as unbearable. 

It was weird and there probably was no science behind it, but you didn’t care as long as it worked. 

So, you rolled out your yoga mat on the floor and began warming up. 

Within no time, your skin was glistening with sweat and your hair was damp. You were struggling to complete the last push-up of your final set when someone knocked on your door, causing you to lose your focus. Your arms gave out beneath you, and you collapsed to the ground. 

“Woah, it’s boiling in here,” Jeno pointed out intelligently. “And you look like you’re one move away from dying. God, I can’t even breathe Why the fuck are you working out with the windows closed? Are you stupid?” 

Groaning, you rolled on your back and watched your best friend as he moved to the windows and threw them open. “Hey!” you protested weakly and raised a trembling arm in a pathetic attempt to stop him. “I’m trying to do something!”

Jeno raised an eyebrow at you and grabbed your hand, hauling you up effortlessly. “Oh, yeah? Pray tell.” 

You crashed into his chest and rebounded, but he tightened his hold on you. His palm hovered over your back in case you lost your balance. Steadying yourself, you glared at him and snapped, “No. You’re gonna make fun of me.”

“I won’t!” Jeno laughed, his eyes crinkling. 

“Stop, you’re doing it already!” 

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. I really do wanna know what you were doing.” 

You eyed him for a moment, waiting for him to slip up and start laughing again. But Jeno’s face remained mildly curious. Satisfied, you explained, “Well, because I was feeling hot, I decided to take a shower. The water here is very cold, though, so I decided to work out in a closed room because that would make me even hotter. If I get in the shower now, it wouldn’t feel as cold because my body temperature has already increased, and the water would be sort of neutralised.” 

A beat of silence passed. And then, “I know I said I wouldn’t make fun of you—”

“Then stop talking.”

“But did you not realise you could have mixed the hot and cold water in a bucket?” Jeno continued, clearly still talking. “Or, I don’t know, come over to my place to shower?” 

“You live with three other men.” You deadpanned. “I was not going to shower in your apartment with Jaemin, Renjun and Hyuck there. Also, I don’t have a big enough bucket, so I will be buying one today,” you added, muttering the last bit. 

Jeno rolled his eyes. “God, Y/N, I would have kicked the guys out.” 

“What makes you think they would have listened to you?” you asked amusedly.

“Okay, true,” he agreed. “They would have listened to you, though. If there’s anyone who’s bossy enough to get them out of the house on a hot Sunday afternoon, it’s you.” 

“Are you calling me bossy?” 

“Are you going to shower now?” he deflected. “You stink.”

“Shut up!” you exclaimed and slapped his shoulder hard, but laughed nonetheless. Moving away from him, you kicked him off your yoga mat and said, “You opened the windows and interrupted my workout, so I don’t feel as hot anymore. I think I’m gonna exercise a little more so I don’t die of hypothermia in the shower. You can take my laptop and choose a movie till then if you want.”

“How about I work out with you?” Jeno suggested. “We can have our gym bros moment.” 

“I don’t wanna have a gym bros moment with you.”

“Why?” he whined. 

Flicking his forehead, you said, “Because I know you’re gonna turn this into a competition, and I’m not in the mood.” 

“Scared?”

“You wish,” you scoffed. “I’m tired from all the working out I did before you came, and I’m not going against you when you have that advantage over me.” 

“That still means you’re scared. Pussy.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you got into the position for a plank. “Get out if you’re going to keep being annoying and not contribute shit to our gym bros moment.”

“I knew you’d come around,” Jeno replied smugly. You practically heard the grin in his voice when he said that. 

You closed your eyes and laboured your breathing as you felt your abdomen begin to burn almost immediately. “Had to, or I knew you’d keep irritating me.” 

Opening your lids, you turned your neck to see if he was doing the exercise with you. 

Your arms gave out the moment you saw Jeno shirtless, his bulging biceps on full display.

“Damn, you lost quicker than I thought,” he commented. 

“Why are you naked?!” you demanded in a shrill voice. 

Still in position, Jeno only glanced at you like you were out of your mind. “I was wearing a hoodie, Y/N. Did you expect me to do a plank in that furnace?” 

“Yeah!” you exclaimed. To your dismay, your eyes kept drifting to his well-defined muscles no matter how much you tried to focus on his face. 

To make things worse, Jeno noticed. And smirked. “Stop complaining if you’re enjoying the view so much. It’s okay to admit you have a hot best friend.”

Flustered, you scrambled to your feet and looked at the ceiling. God, you felt like a stupid middle schooler. It was insane how much of an effect Jeno was having on you. What was weirder was that your mind was drifting to places it had never been before. At least where your best friend was concerned. 

“Narcissus has nothing on you,” you muttered under your breath, and tried to gather your bearings. 

“Besides,” Jeno continued, having not heard you. “I do send you pictures sometimes. I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ve never seen me like this.” 

“Your phone’s camera is fucked, Jeno,” you grumbled. “The photos you texted me didn’t capture half of what’s actually there.”

No matter what you hadn’t seen, you’d felt whenever you hugged each other. It didn’t take away your surprise upon seeing the 2440p quality visual though. 

“Is that disappointment I hear?” he taunted. 

“No!” you exclaimed and finally looked at him again. At the sight of his working muscles, you muttered, “Can we stop now? You won.”

“Ah!” Jeno dragged the word as if he had just stumbled upon a revelation. “You want me to stand up so you can get a better view of my abs? Got it.” 

Your eyes widened, and before you could deny his ridiculous accusations, he was towering over you. Wiggling his eyebrows, he gestured towards himself and flexed dramatically. 

“You’re an idiot,” you huffed, unable to help yourself. 

“Yeah? Then I guess an idiot just managed to fluster the shit out of you.” Jeno smiled and ruffled your hair. Bending, he picked up his discarded hoodie and shrugged it back on. “I’ll go and get you a bathing bucket from the supermarket around the corner. Don’t freeze yourself to death.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I won’t.” 

“Also, do you remember the shirt I forgot here all those months ago after I got wet in the rain? Can you find it so I can change into it when I’m back?” He frowned and looked at himself. “I’ll eventually toast myself if I watch the movie in my hoodie.”

“Sure, but you’re stupid for wearing warm clothes in summer,” you commented.  

Jeno gave you a dirty look. “Sorry for assuming your A/C was in working condition. Besides, you always want to cuddle when we watch movies, so I figured you’d be more comfortable if I was wearing a hoodie.” 

Your cheeks warmed at that, your heart stumbling a beat. What was wrong with you? You’d always known Jeno was caring and went out of his way to do nice things for you.

Typically, you’d have felt grateful for how thoughtful he was being. 

Now, though, you felt that and… something else that you didn’t really want to acknowledge. 

“Whatever,” you said instead, trying to sound dismissive. Pushing him out of your room, you continued, “I’ll find it. Just hurry up with the bucket.” 

A few minutes after Jeno was gone, a notification popped up on your phone. 

[jeno]: clearer picture that i clicked on jaemin’s phone for your viewing pleasure :”) 

You blinked in confusion and opened the photo that was attached below, your eyes widening the moment you saw it. It was a zoomed-in gym mirror selfie of Jeno wearing nothing but sweatpants and shoes, his muscular abdomen on full display. 

[you]: did you crop jaemin? 

[jeno]: ???? [jeno]: wdym……. [you]: the photo’s dimensions are weird [jeno]: oh [jeno]: what the fuck [you]: LMFAOOO [jeno]: STOP I DIDN’T WANT YOU LOOKING AT HIM INSTEAD OF ME I’VE GOT A BETTER BODY ANYWAY AND I’M GONNA BUY A NEW PHONE SO I CAN SEND YOU CLEARER PICS WITHOUT HAVING TO CROP THAT FUCKER OUT 

You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling too wide. Right before you were about to type a reply, you received another text from your best friend. 

[jeno]: so are you gonna tell me what you think [you]: FINE you’re hot. [you]: happy?  [jeno]: euphoric

Finally laughing out loud, you shook your head. 

Narcissus had nothing on Jeno indeed.

02. female friends ask you to be their wingwoman 

You didn’t think you’d ever accompanied Jeno to a party without having someone ask you to set them up with him. 

“Please,” Yoo Jimin begged for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Yeji said he was single!” 

Sighing, you mentally cursed Yeji for inviting Jimin to Jeno’s party. “He is, but I’m not setting you up with him.” 

“Why?” Jimin demanded rather aggressively, making you wonder what it would take for her to quit nagging you. “Do you like him or something?” 

It took a concerning amount of effort for you to refrain from rolling your eyes. “I do not.” 

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“I don’t know, Jimin!” you finally burst and gestured at your surroundings. “Maybe I’m not too keen on helping you out because you followed me into the washroom and cornered me! Maybe I feel used because you’ve never shown much interest in me even though I’ve tried striking up a conversation with you several times before!”  

Jimin’s features softened, and she looked away. “You’re right,” she muttered, guilt and shame evident in her voice. “I’m sorry for jumping on you like that.” 

You immediately felt bad for snapping at her. Pursing your lips, you tried to cheer her up. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need me to set you up with him anyway. I know we haven’t hung out much, but based on what I’ve heard about you from Yeji, you’re smart, funny and social. You have no reason to be nervous while approaching Jeno.” 

For some reason, you regretted encouraging Jimin to pursue your best friend. A gaping hole formed in your heart, and you wished she would go for someone else instead. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” Jimin smiled gratefully. “I know I’ve been a shitty person, but could you give me another chance? I’d really like to get to know you more.” 

And just like that, the hollowness in your chest was gone. You gave her a genuine smile of your own and said, “I gotta pee right now, but does lunch tomorrow work for you?”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot where we were.” Rubbing the nape of her neck sheepishly, she replied, “Lunch works. I’ll text you tonight so we can talk about it.” 

The two of you exchanged your goodbyes, and then she was gone. A few minutes later, you exited the washroom as well and headed back to the party. 

“I missed you,” a voice slurred in your ear. Arms circled around your waist, and a face buried itself into the crook of your neck. 

You laughed. “You failed the challenge, Jeno.” 

“Where were you?” he demanded in an almost whiny tone. “It’s your fault! I wouldn’t have lost at beer pong if you’d been playing with me.” 

Patting Jeno’s back in consolation, you replied, “I’m sorry you have zero self-control and commit to things you know you won’t be able to do.” 

Jeno peeled himself away from you and pouted. “You’re mean.”

“Thanks. Let’s get wasted together,” you said, but then added upon looking at his already tipsy condition, “Or I can get wasted, and your ass can keep me company.”  

“Don’t you think one of us should be sober?” Jeno asked as you pulled him along.

“I’m not gonna hold back from drinking!” you exclaimed. “Let me remind you that you were supposed to be the sober one today and make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. I’m blaming you if I get naked in the yard.” 

Thanks to the music that was gradually getting louder as you approached the main party area, you didn’t hear your best friend’s response. You tightened your grip on his hand when the crowd thickened. Wading your way through the dancing throng, you finally reached the table lined with alcohol and food. 

You chose a bottle of Romanov and popped it open, drinking straight from it. You’d barely taken a few gulps when Jeno snatched it from you and put it to his own mouth. 

Throwing him a dirty look, you picked up another bottle for yourself. “Do you wanna dance?”

“I wanna throw up.” 

“Suit yourself.” You shrugged and aimed for the dance floor. A smile crept on your face upon seeing Jaemin; you were not in the mood to dance alone. 

“Y/N!” he hollered when he noticed you. Stumbling towards you, he pulled you in a quick embrace. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 

“Finals!” you answered. Jaemin nodded in understanding and ran a hand through his hair, taking a swig from his beer. “Do you wanna dance?” 

You grinned. “You know I do.” 

The next few hours were a complete blur. The bottle in your hand was replaced by more one after the other, and when Jaemin deemed you’d had enough to drink, he gave you a red solo cup filled with water instead. 

It felt good to finally unwind after the horrible few weeks you’d had. There was no academic stress weighing down on you anymore, and though you were low on sleep, you didn’t want to stop partying. 

You just wished you and Jeno had gotten wasted together. While you were having fun with Jaemin, partying with Jeno was a different experience entirely. 

Right as you were about to take a sip from your cup, you felt an arm being thrown around your neck. The touch was so familiar that you recognised who it was immediately. 

“I missed you!” you exclaimed. Jeno looked down at you with a grin on his face, a pair of black party glasses sitting on his nose. His hair was damp and fell over his forehead. Maybe it was the liquor in your system, but you could have sworn he never looked better. “Let’s dance.”

“Dance?” Jeno laughed. “Haven’t you been doing that for the past two hours? Don’t your feet hurt?” 

Frowning, you glanced at your legs. “They do!” you exclaimed, and looked back at him again, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Feeling tears beginning to pool in your eyes, you mumbled, “But I still want to dance.”

“How about we go on the roof instead? The stars look pretty tonight,” your best friend suggested, trying his best not to laugh at you. “I didn’t drink at all after you left me. I’m sober enough to take care of you now.” 

Your eyes lit up at that. “Wow, that’s such a good idea! You’re so smart, Jeno. I love you.”  

Jeno’s lips finally twitched up in a smile. “I love you too, silly.” 

Plucking the solo cup out of your hand, he offered you an arm. You looped yours through it with a soft thank you and leaned on him as he led you upstairs. 

The two of you entered his dark room, and Jeno shut the door behind him. Only when the loud music was muffled did you realise your head was throbbing.  

He unhooked your arms gently and grabbed a warm blanket off his bed. Throwing open his window, he jumped out on the flat roof and looked at you expectantly. 

You staggered behind Jeno and took the hand he was holding out for you. His other hand hovered over your waist as you climbed on the sill. 

Thanks to the alcohol in your system, your balance was non-existent, and your legs turned to jelly the moment they made contact with the roof. Fortunately, your best friend was there to catch you.

You bumped into Jeno’s chest instead of falling to the ground. He wrapped his arms around you and steadied you, laughing a little at your antics. 

“God, how much did you drink?” you heard him wonder to himself. You mumbled an incoherent response and leaned against the outside wall of his room, watching him lay the spread on the floor. 

The two of you usually climbed the ladder that led to the slanting roof at the very top of the house, but you reckoned the boy in front of you didn’t want to risk taking you up there when you were so wasted. 

Jeno sat down on the blanket once he was done and peeked at you over his shoulder, patting the space beside him. “Come on.” 

Pushing yourself off the siding, you stumbled to him, tripping over your feet a bit. You were able to keep your balance, though, and a moment later, you found yourself lying on the blanket next to him.

Your shoulders brushed against each other, the warmth from his body seeping into you. It was summer, but the night air was still chilly, especially now that you were on the roof. You were thankful for the protection Jeno offered against the mild cold. 

The music was blaring once again now that you were outside, and there were no barriers to deafen it, but the volume barely bothered you. Your eyes were on the stars, trying to identify the constellations.

“I see Orion right there,” Jeno said, pointing at the sky. You followed his finger, and sure enough, there it was. “And there’s Ursa Minor.” He moved his hand after noting that you had recognised Orion. 

“I don’t see it,” you muttered, blinking heavily to clear your sight. 

“Can you see Polaris?” he asked, glancing at you for a moment. 

You raised your hand and pointed it at a random star that was nowhere near the one Jeno was referring to. “There.” 

Jeno snorted. “You could spot Orion, but you can’t identify the brightest star in the sky?” Without waiting for a response, your best friend grabbed your arm and directed it to the right star. “That is Polaris.” 

“Woah.” You gaped and lowered your arm. “It’s so shiny.” 

Jeno laughed again upon hearing the child-like wonder in your voice. You stargazed often and always challenged each other to see who could identify the most constellations in a minute. He knew the night sky was familiar to you, but seeing you like this reminded Jeno of the first time he brought you to his roof and introduced you to his favourite hobby. 

“Do you want it?” he teased. 

Eyes widening, you turned your neck to look at him, your faces so close you could count his lashes. “Really?” 

“Really,” he said and pinched your cheek, unable to help himself. “I’ll get it for you.” 

A wide smile immediately broke across your lips, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you!” you squealed. 

Jeno chuckled, a little surprised that you had practically climbed on top of him, and part of him was caged under you now. He didn’t mind the sudden intimacy. It had always been his love language; any sort of physical contact with you—be it comparing hand sizes or carrying you on his back—warmed his heart. 

Patting your head, he asked, “You want me to show you the rest of Ursa Minor?” 

“Yes.” You nodded into the crook of his neck and peeled yourself away from him, but your head still rested where his shoulder met his arm. 

Brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on your face, he averted his gaze to the sky. “Polaris is the tail of The Little Dipper. Now we move towards the left. See the star that’s above the brightest? That’s Delta. Epsilon is above Delta too, but the distance between them is not as much as the distance between the first two. Zeta is below—” 

You tuned Jeno out. He was still showing you the stars that made up the constellations, far too invested to notice that you were no longer paying attention to what he was saying and were looking at something much more beautiful instead. 

You’d always known your best friend was attractive. You’d have to be blind to not notice his striking features—they were sharp with a certain softness around the edges. His face always stood out in crowds and demanded people’s undivided attention. 

Rightfully so, you thought to yourself as you admired his perfectly straight nose and the shape of his soft lips, diverting your gaze to his eyes. You’d always thought they were his best features. They were warm and open and felt like home. It deserves to be appreciated. 

“Pherka, Eta, Kochab and Zeta form a—”

“You’re prettier.”

Jeno glanced at you, your faces mere inches away and those beautiful eyes peering into yours with slight confusion. “What?”

“You said the stars looked pretty tonight,” you whispered. “I think you’re prettier.” You paused for a moment, as if rethinking your words. Then, “I think you’re the prettiest person in the world.”

A fond smile crept on your best friend’s face, and maybe it was because your ear was in the vicinity of his heart, but you could have sworn you heard it thumping loudly against his ribcage. Lightly bumping his forehead against yours, Jeno whispered back, 

“I think you’re the prettiest person in the world too.” 

03. it’s very easy to fall for them, especially when they’re always so sweet and caring

The first thing you felt upon regaining your consciousness was pain. 

Your skull was splitting apart, the little bit of sunlight creeping in through the closed curtains rendering you blind. Nausea was beginning to set in, but your body was so weak that you weren’t sure you could make it to the toilet in time. 

You should have never drunk so much. Not only had you not taken any proper rest after working yourself to exhaustion during your finals, but had also danced to the point you couldn’t move your legs. Heck, you couldn’t even remember much of the party. You recalled leaving Jeno behind to party with Jaemin, but everything after that was a huge blank slate. 

The toilet was far away, but you could try reaching the dustbin near the study table instead of just throwing up on the carpet. Groaning, you tried to push yourself up. When that didn’t work, you put all strength in your abdomen and threw yourself off the bed. 

A shockwave of agony passing through your body rendered you immobile on the ground. You moaned in pain and curled in on yourself, covering your mouth with a hand upon tasting bile on your tongue. 

The door was thrown open, and a worried Jeno gaped at you lying on his room’s hard floor motionlessly. “What the fuck?” 

“Dustbin,” you croaked with much difficulty, tears springing to your eyes. They hurt so much you wanted to rip them out. 

Your best friend moved into action immediately. “I kept the dustbin right beside the bed in case you got sick, you blind twat truck. Along with painkillers and water on the table.”  

You found it in yourself to glare at the boy, but he ignored you. Placing the waste basket in front of you, he helped you up. You gripped the rim as he gathered your hair in his hand and held it up to avoid it getting in the way of your vomit. 

Right before you emptied the toxins in your body, you managed to say to him, “How capable do I look to you right now, you stupid toe-licking grinch man?” 

Jeno rolled his eyes and rubbed your back with his other hand, patiently waiting for you to finish. Once your heaving stopped, you took the tissue he was holding out for you and wiped your mouth. You felt much better after throwing up but you were still so tired. 

“Come on.”

You swatted Jeno’s hand away and rested your back on his bed, tucking your legs under your chin. “Too much effort,” you muttered and closed your eyes, willing the headache to go away.

“I was going to carry you to the bed, Y/N,” he said in exasperation. 

“I just need a moment,” you whispered almost incoherently, wishing he would stop asking you questions when you had no energy to answer. “A moment and an Aspirin.” 

There was some shuffling, and then you felt a hand brushing your matted hair out of your face. “Here.”

You peeled your lids open to see Jeno crouched in front of you with water and the painkiller you had asked for. Taking it from his hand, you popped it into your mouth and gulped down some water. 

For a few moments, you tried to regulate your breathing and calm yourself down. Jeno could tell you were gathering the willpower and strength to climb back on his bed. He wanted to help, but you clearly didn’t want it. So, he just watched you silently struggle.

He should have been with you last night; he hated that he wasn’t when he had promised to be the sober half. As far as Jeno was concerned, Jaemin was going to get an earful about keeping tabs on how much his friends drank. Never in the two years of friendship had he seen you with such a huge hangover. 

“Fuck,” he heard you curse under your breath. You moaned in pain as you pushed yourself up on trembling arms and fell on his mattress. Sighing, Jeno tucked you in and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“Sleep well,” he said and made his way to the door. “I’ll wake you up for lunch. Renjun is making grilled sandwiches.” 

Your eyes flew open again. Fuck. You were supposed to meet Jimin. 

“Jeno, wait,” you blurted, and he stopped in his tracks. “I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch, but I don’t think I can make it. Can you cover for me?” 

Your best friend leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which friend?” 

“Jimin.” 

“I thought she ghosted you.” He frowned. “Now you’re meeting her for lunch?” 

“No, you are meeting her for lunch. I don’t wanna be rude and cancel at the last minute. What if she already left?”

“It’s 10 in the morning.”

“Well, what if she turned down other offers because of the plans we made?” 

“She left an hour ago with Mark after passing out on the couch in Hyuck’s room last night. I doubt she’s had the time to turn down any other offers. Actually, I think she’ll be glad you cancelled. She looked pretty hungover when she left.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” you whined, wincing when the throbbing in your head responded to the sudden increase in the volume of your voice. “I’m only asking you for a small favour.” 

“I’m not being difficult,” Jeno defended himself and took a few steps towards you. “I’m trying to tell you that you may be overthinking this. Let me send her a text from your phone asking for a reschedule, and we can have some homemade lunch with the guys.” 

Sighing heavily, you averted your gaze from his and stared at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna blow this. I think she’s really cool and I’d like to get to know her more. I’m good friends with everyone in our social circle except her. It’s awkward.” 

Jeno’s eyes softened at that. “Y/N, you’re not blowing anything. Rescheduling lunch because you both partied till you collapsed is not going to take away any points. Trust me.” 

Your best friend was right. You were overthinking this, but you didn’t exactly blame yourself. All your efforts to befriend Jimin had been futile till now. You didn’t want to do anything that could mess up the friendship that had begun to bloom last night. 

“Fine,” you finally relented. “Shoot her a text from my phone. I think it’s in my clothes bag—” you paused, your eyes widening. Lifting Jeno’s duvet in panic, you looked down at yourself. “Who changed my clothes?” 

“Ningning did!” Jeno answered quickly, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He couldn’t understand why he was freaking out—nothing happened. 

You exhaled in relief, trying to get rid of the alien tingling feeling spreading throughout your body. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “Okay. Well, my phone’s in my clothes bag.” 

Jeno busied himself, rummaging through your backpack that was on his bedside table. What you didn’t know, however, was that it was just a front for him to calm himself down. “Got it.” He waved the phone at you. “What’s your pin?”

“Your birthday.”

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and a seed of warmth sprouted in his chest. A dizzying sense of affection for you washed over him, drenching him in happiness from head to toe. “Really?” 

You nodded and closed your eyes. Turning on your side to get into a more comfortable sleeping position, you buried yourself deeper under his sheets. Yawning, you mumbled, “Day-Month-Year with leading zeros.” 

“My password is your birthday too,” he said quietly after sending Jimin the text. “A lot of them are. It’s the easiest set of numbers to remember.”

You didn’t respond. Jeno didn’t mind. He knew you’d already fallen asleep. Keeping your phone on the table, he smiled sadly and stared at your resting figure in longing. “Everything about you is so easy to remember.”

Jeno closed the door behind him as he left, none the wiser about the fact that you were still awake and had heard everything he’d said, your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to leap out of your chest. 

Your best friend left, completely unaware of the fact that you were now entertaining the possibility of being in love with him. 

𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 !

01. the green-eyed monster you resent makes an appearance more than you’d like

You genuinely couldn’t believe your friend group and their seemingly never-ending social battery. 

One would think that after a long night of partying, a person would stay at home the next day and take some much-needed rest. Your friends, however, thought it was a good idea to meet up for dinner and decide what to do over the weekend. 

You didn’t bother to remind them of the wonderful invention that was group chats. 

“We should drive up to the beach,” Mark suggested, flipping through the menu. “Summer just started, so I don’t think there will be a lot of people.” 

All of you were seated in a round booth at the back of a diner Chenle said he frequented. You weren’t going to lie; you could see why. The setting was very homey, and the cushioning of the sofa was very cosy—you were almost sure you were going to fall asleep even before your food arrived. 

Ningning, who was sitting beside Mark, peeked over his shoulder to see what was listed. Minjeong said, “That’s stupid. The start of summer is exactly when beaches get overcrowded. Most don’t get to visit the ocean during the year, so they make a beeline for the beach as soon as break begins.”  

“True,” you heard Jeno say. He leaned back in his seat and put his arm on the cushion behind you. You resisted the urge to lean in. Taking a sip of his water, he continued, “Besides, we’re already going to Jeju Island for a week next month. I don’t think we should drive three hours to go to the beach right now.” 

“What about karaoke?” Jimin piped up. She was sitting on the other side of Minjeong, opposite from Chenle, who was on the other side of the table. 

“We don’t need an entire weekend for just karaoke,” Chenle pointed out. “We could do it whenever we want.”

“Well, what about—” 

“Hey, can I take your order?” a female voice that was a combination of annoyed, upbeat, friendly and polite interrupted Minjeong. The girl looked a little flustered at being cut off, but she cleared her throat and mumbled a small yeah, just give us a minute.

The waitress did not move, so all of you awkwardly picked up the menu cards and began flipping through them. 

“The usual for me, Yuna,” Chenle said, smiling up at her. To diffuse the sudden tension created in the air, he began making small talk with her as she waited. 

“What are you eating?” Jeno asked. He was closer to you now, his eyes scanning the contents of the menu card in your hand over your shoulder. 

You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m eating anything. I’m not very hungry.” 

Jeno’s eyebrows creased, and he glanced at your face in worry. “You haven’t had anything since lunch. At least drink something.” 

“It’s fine.” You dismissed him with a wave of your hand and pushed the card in his direction so he could order whatever he wanted. “I won’t be able to finish anything by myself and I don’t wanna waste food.” 

“How about we share?” he insisted. “You eat however much you want, and I’ll finish the rest. Don’t go to sleep on an empty stomach.” 

An internal battle began. While Jeno’s suggestion was sensible, you knew he didn’t like to share his food with anyone. You remembered a time when he had refused to go on a second date with a girl because she kept nibbling on his meal. You didn’t want him to do something he hated just for your sake. 

“Really, it’s fine,” you repeated. “You go ahead and—”

“Hey, Y/N,” Yeji called, making you divert your attention to her. “You wanna share a triple-decker chicken sandwich? Chenle said this place is famous all over town for that dish.” 

You had to admit, a triple-decker chicken sandwich did sound tasty. But you’d just turned down Jeno, so you didn’t wanna say yes to Yeji. Shaking your head, you once again said, “I’m not hungry.”

“Why aren’t you hungry?” Mark frowned, overhearing your conversation. The rest of your friend group looked at you in concern. Ningning asked, “Are you okay?” 

You groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to everyone why you didn’t have an appetite. “I’m okay. I’m just not hungry because I had a lot for lunch.”

“That’s a lie,” Jeno commented unhelpfully, and you smacked his shoulder hard in retaliation. He winced, rubbing the area of attack. “Hey!” 

“Shut up!” you exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, you said to everyone with as little annoyance in your voice as you could, “Please just order what you want. I still feel a little weird after last night’s party, and I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.” Before anyone could reply, you added, “I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.” 

Yeji looked a little stunned, but she got up from her seat and let you leave the booth when you requested her to move. Locking yourself in one of the stalls, you clutched your stomach and curled in on yourself, closing your eyes. 

Your period cramps were especially painful this time. Maybe it was because of last night’s exertion, but your cycle was early too. Your stomach was in too many knots for you to even think about eating anything. 

The washroom’s door opened, and you heard soft footsteps trudging towards you. Knocking on the only occupied stall’s door, a female voice asked, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” 

“Yeah,” you croaked, feeling tears burning your eyes. “Everything’s fine, Jimin. I just have period cramps, that’s all.” 

“Oh.” There was silence for a moment. “I have painkillers. Do you want them?” 

Exhaling through your mouth, you wiped your moist cheeks and stepped out of the stall. “Sure.”

Jimin smiled at you reassuringly and handed you a wet wipe, looping her arm through yours. “Don’t worry. I got you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness and gratitude. You’d wanted to connect with her for so long, and it finally felt like you were getting somewhere this time. Maybe you were being overemotional due to your fluctuating hormones, but you wanted to pull her into a hug.

“Oh, also,” you started a little sheepishly, “I wanted to apologise in person about cancelling on you earlier today. I drank and partied more than I should have. I thought about sending Jeno to cover for me, but he pointed out that it would have been awkward for you to see him when you were expecting me.”

“Woah, wait!” she gaped and took a step away from you. The shock on her face surprised you for a moment, but the feeling didn’t last long. “You’re kidding me! You should have kept insisting, Y/N! A lunch date would have been the perfect way for us to get closer!”

“I don’t think he would have considered the lunch a date because he was just a stand-in for me,” you said awkwardly, and threw the used wipe in the dustbin. 

Jimin waved you away as you walked out of the restroom and back to your booth. “I mean, yeah, it wouldn’t have been an official date, but it would have given me the opportunity to ask him out on a real one.”

“Right.”  

You hated the way you sounded. You hated the way your stomach churned, and your mood dropped. You hated that someone was pursuing Jeno. You hated that you were being forced to play Cupid, all thanks to your strong refusal to admit your feelings and the friendship you wanted to build with the girl next to you. 

“Oh, my God!” Jimin exclaimed, too immersed in her own fantasies to have noticed the change in your tone and demeanour. “I can make up for the missed opportunity by sitting next to him right now! You wouldn’t mind, would you?” 

You did mind. The idea of her making a move on your best friend made you want to dig a hole and cry. God, you were being so pathetic. This was completely unlike you, and you despised the way you were acting. You had to pull yourself together immediately. 

Besides, it wasn’t like you were ever going to explore these newfound feelings you had for Jeno. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your friendship. Forcing an encouraging smile on your face, you said, “Um, sure! That’s a really good idea.”

“Took you guys long enough,” Chenle commented once you returned. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you have any other places to be?” 

“I mean I was worried.” He rolled his eyes. “We ordered food while you were gone. You sure you don’t want anything, Y/N?” 

“Yep,” you said, popping the last letter. “Scoot over and make space for us.” 

Yeji got up again and stood to the side as Jimin, and you slid into the booth. “The two of you better not make me get up again. I’m not budging even if you need to take a big dump.” 

“Sorry,” you muttered, smiling at her sheepishly. Making yourself comfortable, you grabbed your glass of water and dipped a straw in it, idly sipping the liquid. 

Jeno’s gaze caught yours from behind Jimin’s back. He pointed at her with a frown on his face and mouthed, “Why is she sitting beside me?” 

You waved him away and turned your attention to the rest of your friends. “Please tell me you guys finally decided what we’re doing over the weekend.”

“We did,” Mark piped up. “We’re thinking of going to an amusement park and then a water park.”

Jimin frowned. “Won’t those places be crowded as well?” 

“We just need to accept that most destinations will be. Everyone’s on break, so it doesn’t matter where we go. There will be people everywhere.” 

You agreed with Minjeong. “Amusement park it is. Can we hit the bars at night?”

“It won’t be much of a trip if we don’t.” Ningning grinned. “You sure you want to go clubbing so soon though? You were completely wasted when Jeno called me to his room and made me change your clothes last night.”

Mark snickered. “Are you scared of changing your own girlfriend’s clothes, Jeno?”  

Silence. No one spoke. 

NingNing was staring at Mark incredulously, and Yeji seemed to be suffering through an extreme case of second-hand embarrassment. Chenle pretended to flip through the menu while Minjeong grabbed her phone and scrolled through the apps on her home screen in an attempt to look busy. 

Jimin whirled to face you so fast that you wondered how her neck hadn’t snapped. You couldn’t even dare to look at Jeno to see what reaction Mark’s words had evoked out of him. 

Laughing awkwardly, you asked, “Who said we’re dating?” 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Mark scoffed in disbelief. “You guys are so bad at keeping your relationship private. Everyone knows there’s something going on between the two of you.” 

“Is that true?” Jeno asked, but no one present at the table dared to meet his gaze. “Do all of you think there’s something going on between Y/N and me?” 

“I mean….” Chenle began, dragging the word out. “You both are very close. People who claim to be just friends don’t cross the boundaries you two step all over everyday. But we’ve never seen you kiss either, so we’re not sure if you’re dating secretly or…” 

“You guys are crazy,” you interrupted. “Stop speculating about our relationship. It’s weird.” Turning to face a very betrayed-looking Jimin, you enunciated, “Jeno and I are just friends. That’s all there is to us.”

“Yeah,” Jeno added, glancing at you. “Y/N and I will only ever be friends. There’s no way I would date her. I don’t find her attractive in a romantic way.” 

Feeling a knot form in your heart and anger bubble in the pit of your stomach, you snapped, “Same. Jeno’s not even my type. I wouldn’t get together with him if we were the only people left on Earth.” 

Your friends exchanged knowing glances, and poor Jimin, who was stuck sitting between Jeno and you, made an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Okay, guys. We get it.” 

“I’m not sure you do,” Jeno hissed, staring all your friends down. “I can see your damn faces. The only way you’re going to believe I’m not into Y/N is if I prove it to you by going out with someone else.” 

Minjeong began, “That’s not—” 

“No, he’s right,” you fumed. Under the table, your hand curled into a fist. “The only way you guys are going to get this stupid image of Jeno and me being together romantically is if we date other people.” 

“The two of you are overreacting!” Yeji exclaimed. “There’s no need to get so defensive! We were wrong for assuming, and Mark was an idiot for opening his fat mouth. I’m sure you both would have told us if there was something. We’re all sorry.” 

There was a chorus of agreement on the table. Everyone genuinely seemed to be apologetic—except Mark, who was glaring at Yeji and looked mad for being called an idiot. His eyes met yours, and a sheepish smile took form on his lips. 

You huffed a small laugh and shook your head, but your heart was still in knots. There was a certain hollowness in the pit of your stomach. You felt sick and anxious. 

Did Jeno really have to say all those hurtful things just to convince your friends about your platonic relationship? He didn’t need to sound so offended and make your mutual denial a competition. 

Sure, you were the one who had declared there would never be anything more than just friendship between Jeno and you, but he didn’t have to cross the line by saying you weren’t appealing to him. 

Besides, you’d said what you’d said for Jimin. You didn’t actually mean the words that left your mouth. Considering the emotions you’d been feeling recently, it would be a lie to claim you didn’t hope for a different sort of future with Jeno. 

It didn’t matter anyway. A romantic relationship between the two of you wasn’t practical. Your best friend had never so much as hinted at wanting something more. 

In a twisted way, you were glad he said those wounding things. You needed to be pulled back to reality.

“Hey, Jeno,” you heard Jimin say once the food arrived and everyone started eating. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch and watch a movie sometime this week?” 

Bile rose to your throat. You hoped to God he would say no. You didn’t care if you were being a shitty person; you didn’t think you could take any more of this torture. 

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Your eyes were trained on your glass of water, but you didn’t need to look at him to know he was surprised. As much as you hated eavesdroppers, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to learn where this conversation was going. 

“I am.” Jimin chuckled nervously.

Jeno didn’t reply immediately. The rest of your friends were engaged in their own discussions with the people sitting next to them. The table wasn’t silent by any means, but the only things you could hear were Jimin waiting for his answer with bated breath and the pounding of your heart in your chest. 

Then, “I would be honoured.”

Oh, you were most definitely going to throw up.

02. you fall for them

You hadn’t talked to Jeno ever since dinner with your group.

He hadn’t reached out to you, and you hadn’t tried to contact him either. You’d received a text from Jimin the next day about the specifics of her date with Jeno. They were supposed to meet up for lunch at a restaurant near your college campus and then go out to watch some sappy rom-com. 

He didn’t even care for rom-coms. You’d begged him to watch one with you countless times and he’d always turned you down. Part of you wondered if he knew Jimin was updating you about everything and he was purposely pulling this shit to get back at you. 

But you dismissed the notion immediately. No way were you so dense and self-centred. Maybe Jeno genuinely was into Jimin. 

Your phone began ringing, and you rolled over on your bed, blindly searching for it on your bedside table. God, you hated being woken up in the middle of your afternoon naps. It almost always guaranteed a headache. 

“Hello,” you said groggily, your throat raw and dry. “Who is this?” 

“Oh! Did I wake you up?” It was Jimin. She sounded upbeat. Your heart sank. “I’m so sorry!” 

Pushing yourself up, you rubbed the gunk out of your eyes and made your way to the window. The darkness made you bump into the corner of your study table, and you bit down on your lip to keep a yelp from escaping. Hobbling, you threw the curtains open and said, “No worries. My alarm was just about to ring. How was the date?” 

Laughter bubbled from the other end of the phone line. “It was cool! He is a really good guy. No wonder everyone is head over heels for him. He opened the door for me, didn’t let me spend any money even though I asked him out, was an excellent listener, called me pretty and beautiful, and drove me back home. Oh, God, and the eye-contact? It made him a hundred times sexier.” 

Seems legit, you thought to yourself. Jeno had always been a gentleman. The other girls you’d set him up with had pretty much given you the same feedback. Part of you felt relieved that this date hadn’t been any different than the others he’d been on. 

Except the rom-com part, of course. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why he would agree to something he hated. 

“Ah, I’m happy for you, Jimin!” you exclaimed, trying your best to mean what you said. Your own words tasted like ash on your tongue. “Are you guys going on a second date?” 

“I’m not sure, to be honest. He said he had a great time with me, but when I tried to ask him out again, he just hugged me. That took me by surprise, and I kinda just forgot.” She laughed. “I know good dates usually end with a kiss, but the fact that he didn’t go for one didn’t bother me.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. Sitting on the ledge of your window, you asked, “That sounds nice. Do you think you’ll try asking him again?”

The last thing you expected her to say was no. And the way she said it… she didn’t sound sad or upset or disappointed. She sounded like herself. She sounded the way one would when they talked about the weather. 

It confused you. Didn’t Jimin just say the date was really good? She sounded so happy and delighted. Why was she backing out now?

“I—I don’t get it,” you sputtered. “I thought you were into him. I thought you had a great time today. Why aren’t you going to ask him out again? Did something else happen—?”

“Calm down.” She chuckled. “Nothing happened.” 

“Huh? Then what’s the problem?”

“Nothing happened,” she repeated. “That’s the problem. I like Jeno. He’s attractive, funny and caring. He’s everything a girl would want in a guy. But there was no spark between us. I had a great time with him, but hanging out today didn’t feel any different than usual. It felt like I was hanging out with a good friend, not with a potential romantic interest.

“I was looking forward to exploring what I felt for him. Turns out, it was just physical attraction. It also turns out that he wasn’t into me at all. If it wasn’t obvious the night we all went out for dinner, it was glaringly clear today. I think part of the reason he said yes was that he didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” she added. “The other—major—part was that he’s in love with someone else, and I would rather die than be a homewrecker.”    

“Oh,” you said again. You didn’t know how to respond to that. What did she mean Jeno is in love with someone else? You didn’t dare focus on the last part of what she’d said. You didn’t dare hope that the person she was referring to was you. “Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out between the two of you. I’m sure you’ll find someone else easily. You’re a delight. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”

Jimin laughed again. “If you weren’t in love with Jeno too, Y/N, I would have thought you were into me.” 

It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Forcing yourself to laugh, you croaked, “Whatever do you mean?” 

Saying that was a mistake. You should not have asked her to elaborate. She was going to make you come to terms with your feelings, and all the time and effort you’d spent denying and trying to get rid of them was going to go down the drain. 

Before she could speak, you made a static sound with your mouth. Then, you pretended that the connection was really bad. “Wha—hear—you. Try—back. Hell—?” 

You hung up before Jimin could call you out on your bullshit. A moment later, you saw a text pop up. 

[jimin]: that was soooo unsubtle  [y/n]: idk what ur talking ab!!!!!!! [jimin]: sure [jimin]: also a tiny heads up [jimin]: i told jeno to stop being a pussy and an asshole so he’s on his way 2 ur place now [y/n]: WHAT THE FUCK [jimin]: i’m going 2 pretend u said thank u [jimin]: don’t forget ab our dinner date tmrw [jimin]: have fun <3 

It was crazy how the bell rang almost immediately after you read the last text. You wondered if the timing was planned and that Jimin had told Jeno to wait till she gave him the go-ahead. 

You trudged to the front door and took a deep breath before opening it.

“Hey,” Jeno mumbled with a small smile. His hair was ruffled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. “Can I come in?” 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded and moved out of the way to make space for him to step inside. He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and stood awkwardly. 

“You can sit,” you said, feeling the corners of your lips curl up in amusement. 

He sighed and wove his fingers through his strands again. “Not before I apologise for my behaviour. I was completely out of line that day,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.” 

“So you don’t think I’m unattractive?” 

You meant to tease him, but the next thing you knew, he was standing toe-to-toe with you, a desperate and guilt-ridden expression adorning his face. “God, no. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I only said that because… because I knew it would hurt you.” 

Jeno was standing too close to you. You could barely breathe, much less think. But that didn’t stop you from asking, “Why would you want to hurt me?” 

He didn’t answer for what felt like an entire minute. He only kept staring at you, an internal battle raging inside him. Then, he let loose a breath of frustration and moved away. He refused to look at you, and your patience kept slipping with each moment that passed. 

Right when you thought it would snap, Jeno spoke up, “It hurt me when you said you and I would only ever be friends. I know how stupid it sounds, but it really did. For years, I’d been pining after you and hoping that maybe we could be something more in the future. I felt like an idiot when I realised wouldn’t ever view me in that light. 

“You got so defensive when Chenle said all our friends were suspicious of us being in a secret relationship. I couldn’t help but wonder if you felt disgusted at the idea of us being together. I got angry at myself for being naive and said those horrible things without even realising.” 

You didn’t know what to say. This was the second time you’d been rendered speechless in the past thirty minutes. It was one revelation after the other; you were having a hard time keeping up.

“You—you like me?” you stuttered. 

Jeno laughed humourlessly and looked you dead in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

You took a step back. “No, no, no, no—”

“Yes,” he pressed. “I’m sorry that I do. I know this changes everything, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I just—”

“Why would you go out with Jimin if you… if you love me?” you whispered. 

“Partly to see your reaction and partly in an attempt to get over you,” he admitted. “It didn’t work. I just—I just couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time I was with her. I felt so guilty for saying such terrible things because I couldn’t deal with my emotions and come to terms with reality. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry too.”

“You don’t have to apologise for not loving me back—”

“That’s not what I’m apologising for,” you interrupted and walked towards him until your abdomens were touching. “I’m apologising for not seeing it sooner. I’m apologising for encouraging Jimin to ask you out even though it killed me. I’m apologising for denying my feelings time and time again. I’m apologising for saying we would only ever be friends. The last thing I want is for our relationship to be platonic.” 

Jeno was barely breathing. “What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying I love you too, Lee Jeno,” you mumbled and stood on your toes, cupping cheeks with your palms. “I’m saying I want you to kiss me.” 

The words didn’t register immediately, but his lips were on yours the moment they did. 

Jeno’s arm snaked around your waist, and he pulled you closer. His hand grabbed your neck from behind, and he tilted his neck to the side, deepening the kiss. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. All you could feel was him. Your nerve-endings were short-circuiting, and pure adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You didn’t think you’d ever been as satisfied and euphoric as you were right now.

Jeno’s lips slotted with yours perfectly. You smiled to yourself upon realising he tasted like chocolates. Your best friend always ate a piece before any event he deemed to be very important. He claimed they gave him good luck. 

Letting go of one of his cheeks, you grabbed the round collar of his shirt and pressed your mouth harder against his. The nights you’d spent wondering how kissing him would feel and then hating yourself immediately for having such thoughts amounted to this. 

You didn’t want to hold back. 

But you had to ask him a question. It didn’t matter how stupid or ridiculous it was; you wanted to know the answer. So, you broke the kiss and inquired with your body still tangled with his, “Why the hell did you agree to watch a rom-com with Jimin?” 

“Really?” he asked exasperatedly. “You wanna talk about Jimin while we’re making out?” 

“I wanna know why you watched a rom-com with her when I’ve been begging you to watch one with me for so long,” you corrected. 

Jeno was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to tell you. You raised an eyebrow. “Well,” he started, blowing out a breath. “She told me you set her up with me, and it pissed me off even more. I knew she’d tell you all about our date, so I suggested we watch a rom-com. I knew you’d be riled up once you realised.” 

You snorted. Who knew? You weren’t actually being a self-centred narcissist when you suspected the same. “You’re an idiot. I was already riled up you were going out with her.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he teased. “Why’d you encourage her in the first place then?”

“Honestly, at first, I thought I could use you to further my friendship with her,” you admitted. Jeno scoffed in disbelief. “Yeah, I know. That was kinda shitty of me. But when I realised I was falling for you, I pushed her to pursue you in an attempt to convince myself I was not into you. That obviously backfired and did the very opposite. I was horribly miserable. I wanted to shoot myself everytime I heard her gush about you.” 

He smirked. “She gushed about me?” 

“Oh, get over yourself.” You shoved his shoulder playfully. “How’d you end up here after your date? Jimin texted me that you were coming.”

“Tough, but I’ll try.” He laughed. “She was probably able to tell how disinterested I was. After the date when I dropped her home and hugged her instead of kissing her, she just confronted me and asked if I was in love with you. Then told me to not bother answering because it was obvious. She said she didn’t want to get in the middle of us and threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t come here to make amends immediately.” 

You grinned. “Oh, the things I would have done to witness that scene.” 

“It was scary.” Jeno frowned. “She hit my shoulder really hard when I said I was in love with you and called me an idiot for going out with her. I think she was angry at herself too for being oblivious to our situationship. It was one of the weirdest dates I’ve ever been on.” 

“Jimin actually said she had a great time with you. She told me it was nice.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised. 

You placed a chaste kiss on Jeno’s mouth. “Hmm, I wonder how good the best date you’ve ever been on would be then.” 

He chased your lips and kissed you back deeply. Caressing your cheekbone with stars twinkling in his eyes, Jeno said, “I guess we’ll know when I take you out.”

“No way, are you officially asking me out on a date, Lee Jeno?” you asked, and let out a fake gasp. 

“Damn right I am,” he declared. “I don’t want the amusement park trip with our friends to be our first day out as a couple. Do you wanna grab some food tomorrow afternoon? We can go to the trampoline park before that.” 

You smiled softly. “That sounds wonderful. But,” you added. “No more flirting with restaurant staff for free food, or I’ll go ballistic on you.” 

Jeno laughed, and you thought it was the most beuatiful sound you had ever heard. His chest rumbled with the force of it, his eyes creasing to look like small crescent moons. Slipping his hand into yours, he squeezed once. 

“Wouldn’t even dream of it.” 

note: THANK U FOR READING TILL THE END WHAT ??? loads of hugs and kisses :’)) also i know i said this before but posting after a rlly long time has lowkey made me anxious LOLL i think i could have done better with the fic esp the end bc it’s a little rushed. honestly speaking i am ready to move on to my next wip and i don’t wanna spend more time rewriting this one :(( i still love this piece though and i would definitely love to hear your thoughts amigos!! stay healthy and hydrated <33

thank you to mira for coming in clutch and helping me out with the plot when i was stuck + giving me her honest opinion! thank you to dori too for reading parts of this fic and giving me her opinion as well! i love you both :D

taglist: @notbeforelong​ @w3bqrl​ @rikiflowers​ @mochisnlix​ @allorysayshi​ @hiqhkey​ @angel-hyuckie​​ @j4kesworld​ @timetoten​ @vantxx95​ @sweetjaemss​​ @ahnneyong​ @jennaissantes @sunshine-skz​ @baekhyunstruly​ @ja4hyvn​ @ily-cuz-i​​ @kdyism​ @keemburley @n0hyuck @luvenshiti @donutswithjaminthemiddle @mosviqu @deobitiful @jeonnyread @pjofics @venusprada @matchahyuck @tbzussy @babyksworld @bockhyun @rbf-aceu @ablackbtsstan @tamakofever @naemakkuri @sadgirlroo @fariylixie0915 @pradagukkie @babyjenono @hibernatinghamster @jaemnationnn @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @carelessshootanonymous @nctzennikki09

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (1)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: I wanted to write something that simultaneously includes some fun Jade moments as well as my own thoughts on some tropes. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

You’ve known the truth for a while—that this world exists inside a story. This is a world that revolves around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around you exists to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world is created for “(Y/N).”

You are Friend A. Friend A is a foolish girl who puts (Y/N) into a dangerous situation, involving her with the mafia. (Y/N) is saved by a tall, dark, and brooding man who turns out to be a mafia boss. They will face dangers in the underworld until all threats are eliminated, and then they will live out the rest of their lives in blissful peace as though they are good people. Friend A is never mentioned again after page two.

You are Friend A. You are aware of that.

So why don’t you break out of your role in this story? Why should you play your part instead of using this knowledge to change the flow of the plot?

Simply because the plot is beneficial to you.

You are Friend A. You are a core member of the Leech Mafia. When (Y/N) enters the mafia, her actions flick the first domino of a long chain of events, eventually leading to the prosperity of the Leech family and expanding their influence. Because no matter what, this story caters to (Y/N)’s livelihood.

And why should you interfere with something that will eventually pay out big for you?

There she is now, coming down the street with a smile. Her indistinct hair is in a messy bun that she always throws together in seconds. Her pants emphasize her incredibly tiny waist, and her eyes sparkle with the light of constellations when she sees you. A light blush dusts her cheeks even though she doesn’t wear makeup, and she passes all the people captivated by her on the sidewalk, oblivious to their stares, because she doesn’t believe in her innate beauty and charisma—the beauty and charisma that the story says she has.

“Oh, there you are!” Her voice, clear and sweet, rings out to you. You wave back, just as you are supposed to. “You said you wanted to get sweets from the bakery that just opened, right? I’m so excited. I love sweets! I saved up some money just for this.”

A dialogue line full of exposition. You nod and lead the way.

“Have you seen their Magicam posts? The cakes are so pretty.”

Her giggles chime like bells. “I think the strawberry one is the cutest!”

Your small talk has little to no substance. It exists only to pass the time. To be honest, you don’t mind. If this were any normal day, you would have enjoyed this. You would have visited that bakery with (Y/N), gone home with a strawberry tart, checked up on the ledgers for the mafia, and slept while fed and content. But today is the inciting incident of the story, and you have your part to play.

A dark alleyway is where these things always take place in stories. Four men smoking and muttering ominously to themselves lean against a brick wall, hidden in shadow. Their eyes follow your every step. You make sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk so that (Y/N) passes by the alley. As expected, their hands shoot out and grab her arm.

“Hey, you there.” One of the thugs licks his chops. “Got a minute to spare, pretty thing?”

Generic “bad guy” dialogue. Of course, he’s talking to (Y/N). You don’t need to do anything yet except make sure the pieces are in place. A flutter of black fabric in the corner of your vision assures you that the main lead is ready and waiting.

“Get your hands off me!” (Y/N) struggles against his much stronger grip to no avail. The men pull us into the alleyway and corner us against a dumpster. Tasteful.

“Don’t be so harsh.” Another thug whose voice scrapes like glass shards to the ears grabs your shoulder. You don’t shrug him off. Right now, your role is to lay low and let the main character shine. “We just wanna show you a good time.”

“You can fuck right off! And don’t touch my friend.” (Y/N) shows off her generically headstrong personality now. She probably thinks that she should protect you. You are Friend A, without any special characteristics, a piece of cannon fodder that cannot do anything on your own. Even though (Y/N) doesn’t consciously think that way, this is how she perceives the world. She is not wrong for doing so—she’s being sweet, in the way that she is designed to be.

You don’t have anything to do while she shoots off her scathing remarks, so you take your time to observe the thugs. Just as the story you read describes, these men come from an easily identifiable rival mafia. All four have a tattoo of a handsaw on their bodies—the symbol of the Carpenter Mafia, the current major group in the Queendom of Roses. Common soldiers, no doubt. Not anyone of importance . . . yet.

Thug Number One brings your attention back to the conversation by yanking on your hair. It hurts a little. Irritating, but you can bear with it. (Y/N) looks outraged.

“How about this? Since you’re so determined to save your friend, I’ll let her go if you give yourself to us.” He continues with his harassment by grabbing your cheeks with his grimy fingers. You inhale deeply and immediately regret it due to the smell of his breath. Your mind urges you to refrain from giving him a nice fist to the face. Not just from his treatment of you, but also from his gross proposition to (Y/N). Despite your respective roles in this story, she is still your friend. Hearing him throw those slimy words at her leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

(Y/N) puts up a struggle. “I won’t give you anything!”

“Do you think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She hesitates, looking at you with conflicting emotions warring on her features. Takes a deep breath, just as the story says she would. Then, with a wavering voice and a tough façade, she agrees.

You take your cue to run from the alleyway, abandoning her the way Friend A is meant to do. You don’t have to worry. After all, the thugs won’t be able to do anything before the male lead steps in and saves her.

There isn’t much time to waste until you get an update on the story. You hail a taxi to a neighbourhood by the sea. You tip the driver handsomely, bid him a good day, then walk another block before arriving at a mansion. There’s nobody here to greet you except the security guards at the front gates.

You scan the trees. Looks like he’s in a good mood. When he’s upset, he doesn’t usually climb. He hasn’t noticed you yet—his back is turned, his head buried in a particularly thick patch of leaves, and you’re downwind.

“Floyd!”

He turns so suddenly that you’re worried he’ll get whiplash. A grin lights up his face, and without a single reservation, he jumps right off the tree and lands smoothly on your side of the fence surrounding one of the Leeches' many properties. The sun shines across his handsome, sharp features. Of course, the twin brother of the male lead must be gorgeous in accordance with the axioms that govern this world.

“Handfish, how was it? Did Jade meet her?” Even though you are Friend A in this story, to Floyd, you are just his friend. He hasn’t given you a generic nickname like the “minnows” that he calls the family’s soldiers and staff. To him, you are an individual who is interesting enough to grant a personal nickname. Even if that nickname is “Red Handfish.”

“Yeah, he did. I saw his blazer.” You think back to the black fabric you saw before entering the alley. “I bet he’s doing the whole ‘I can’t let you live’ conversation with her.”

In the story, one of the thugs reveals Jade’s identity as a mafia boss in front of (Y/N) before he passes out. How a common foot soldier of the Carpenter mafia can recognize Jade, whose face is kept classified from lower-ranked members of the underworld, is worrying enough to warrant investigation. This could simply be a result of poor writing from the original plot, but you are also an example of the original story’s loose ends. If someone like you, who was meant to disappear after page two, can still have any significance and will instead of vaporizing immediately after you left that alley, then you can’t be too careful.

“Bet he’s being real smooth with it.” Floyd cackles, his raspy laugh reminding you of a chain smoker after five consecutive packs. “She’s gonna fall for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Of course. We’re talking about Jade.” Even under regular circumstances, he’s charming enough to lure any poor, unsuspecting fool to their demise. “They’re going to come here any minute now. Let’s go inside.”

You pass the security guards and enter the Leech property. A perfectly paved ground with colourful stones and not a weed in sight. A marble fountain surrounded by neat, rectangular hedges. And of course, the enormous white mansion with huge double doors, which in turn have proportionally huge fancy glass windows. For (Y/N) to have a “perfect” ending, the world must allow her to escape her current life of scrimping and saving by marrying her into a wealthy family.

“I wonder what the little minnow looks like.” Floyd hums, sauntering into the living room. “I bet she’d break easily if I squeezed real hard, huh?”

“Don’t do that.” The two of you sit on a velvet couch. Floyd’s long limbs sprawl out and take up the majority of the space. You settle on the far end. “And are you going to keep calling her a minnow?”

“Dunno, haven’t met her yet.”

“She’s very pretty. When you meet her, I’m sure you’ll get the feeling that there’s something special about her.”

The story emphasizes how much Floyd adores (Y/N). She is supposed to become a sort of mood stabilizer for him, keeping him consistently happy in her presence. You wonder if that will actually happen. Floyd can and will throw tantrums around people he holds dear. His mood that flips at the drop of the hat seems difficult to stabilize on just affection alone.

He shrugs non-committedly. Just as you’re about to suggest a nickname he could use, your phone buzzes.

Five minutes away. Jade’s text is short and to the point. You stand and stretch, getting ready to play Peeping Tom.

“Remember, don’t say anything about the original plot, okay?” Floyd’s unpredictable nature worries you. You know that your reminder won’t do much if Floyd decides it would be fun to spill the beans anyway, but you can’t help yourself.

“I know, I know.” He frowns and waves you off. Laughing, you move to the room across the hall. He hates being told what to do, but he’s in a good mood right now. It won’t be a problem.

The front door creaks open. Through a crack in the door, you watch Jade carry (Y/N) in his arms like a princess and set her down on the couch. Smooth, easy, efficient, the way he likes to do everything. Even though you know he is acting, his movements, the soft look in his eyes, are almost believable to you. And you’ve known him for fifteen years. There’s an odd stirring in your chest. Guilt? Envy? You tamp it down.

For a fraction of a second, you swear you make eye contact with him. If he notices you, he doesn’t show it. He seems to redouble his efforts on acting sweet to (Y/N). It might just be your imagination.

Floyd pokes around at the two of them the way he always does when he’s curious about something new. His grating laugh fills the air while Jade bandages a scrape on her knee. Good, the scene is going exactly as described in the story. (Y/N)’s first colourful and memorable experience with her future family. Her new family must be fun, rich, kind to her, and love her unconditionally no matter the circumstances. Her new family has to be better in every way compared to her current one—a mother who passed away at childbirth and a scummy father who neglects her. For an author, these are simply lazy ways to give her a tragic backstory and simultaneously pretend her parents don’t exist for the rest of the story because they don’t add to the romance.

How horrible. How could a late mother and neglectful father not affect a person? How could they simply be written off as another thing the male lead “saves” her from? And for that matter, how can the author casually write in a scene where she is cornered by adult men who are physically far stronger than her, who harass her and make disgusting comments, just so she can meet the male lead? How can they just pretend that won’t lead to any trauma?

You know firsthand how (Y/N) lives her life, because despite the story labeling you as the disposable Friend A, you genuinely have been her friend for the past year. You’ve seen her live on plain rice porridge for days to cut grocery costs. You’ve seen her wear clothes until they are threads because she can’t afford to buy new ones. Oh, but isn’t it wonderful that she’s skinny and looks good in everything?

What a load of bullshit.

[eco-lite]

My unedited thoughts on volume 2!

“The Cat’s Eye of Insight”

* I really have such little patience for the obnoxious stuck-up child trope. Even if the kid is legitimately troubled. Sorry, Hajime.

* “Whenever I was near Richard, I kept finding that all the things I’d locked away deep in my heart just started spilling out” (32). Uh huh. 🥲

* “And why is my brain so much more talented at coming up with awful scenarios than good ones?” (39). Great question, I’d love to ask my brain the same thing.

* Lots of hints that we’ll be seeing more sides of Richard in this volume!

“The Fighting Garnet”

* Why is Richard turning into Sherlock Holmes right now?

* NOT Richard implying that he and Seigi are soul mates! 😭

* Really interesting exploration of how in some peoples’ eyes, the more beauty a person has, the less human they are—the less they must be treated with respect. Similar to how people feel they have more rights to celebrities’ personal lives and bodies because they are in the public eye. It seems like Richard had experienced a lot of violation in his life. In this regard, Seigi is dehumanizing Richard all the time. But I think this story finally has him realizing why his words bother Richard so much.

* “Now, maybe this was just me making assumptions here, but I can’t imagine there were a lot of women in the world, let alone in Japan, who would particularly enjoy being called warriors. I think being called ‘lady’ or ‘princess’ would probably land with more women in general” (95). Seigi, my sweet summer child. You have no idea. What is this, Ouran Highschool Host Club? I think most women today would love to be called a warrior—women fight every fucking day to exist as we are. As Richard said, to live is to fight!

“The Dance of the Emeralds”

* Richard, you are way too lenient when it comes to sweets…

* I’m starting to think that most people aren’t actually that effected by Richard’s beauty—it’s just Seigi. He keeps mentioning how beautiful Richard is even when he’s frowning or doing mundane things. I think that’s just Seigi’s attraction to him as a person.

* “She had the vibe of someone who’d just come running from a construction site” (131). Literally what??

* I really glad that Seigi genuinely appreciates who Tanimoto is as a person, with all her nuances and cute habits.

* Crazy how Seigi says the wildest romantic shit to Richard and is like “huh, what?” But when he says the same kind of thing to Tanimoto he’s gets all flustered and nervous.

* Not Tanimoto thinking Seigi has feelings for literally everyone besides her. 😭

* This story has taken such a turn omg. We’re into drug smuggling and money laundering now?! This really is turning into Sherlock Holmes.

* I don’t even know what to say about Richard eating the caramels out of Seigi’s hand. That’s just normal fodder for them by now.

* Richard fishing for compliments now?? “‘You look perfect like you always do. The most beautiful man in the whole world is standing in front of me.’ The woman behind the counter suddenly started coughing really loud. Maybe she had a cold” (180). And then Richard hurried away into the theater. Like??? You can’t act so shameless and then get embarrassed, Richard!

* Ahh, Richard, you’re too self-sacrificing. Way to end on a sad note.

“The Opal of Reunion”

* “‘The universe has a way of bringing people together when it’s meant to be’” (196). Richard, you sentimental shit. (And NOT Seigi reusing that line on Hase omg.)

* Wow, Richard was right on to suspect Seigi had a crush on his karate classmate. I mean, we were all thinking it. But Seigi! You can actually admit to yourself that you had a crush on your male classmate?! Biggest character growth! Not that he knows how to explain it to Richard, though.

* 🥹🥹🥹 Richard waiting for Seigi because he knew Seigi would be disappointed in Hase after their confrontation. 🥹🥹🥹 Richard playing Finnish death metal so Seigi can cry in peace. 🥹🥹🥹 Richard taking Seigi out for sushi at a fancy hotel. 🥹🥹🥹 Richard telling Seigi to live in the moment instead of ruminating on depressing times in the past. 🥹🥹🥹 Richard letting them split the check so Seigi doesn’t have to be reminded of his relationship with Hase. I’m so happy that both Seigi and us readers get to see this side of Richard—“comfort mode.”

* “…in the end, the only thing I have power over is what I decide to do. Otherwise, I’m just going to cause myself a lot of unnecessary pain” (215). Yeahhh I felt this hard. I struggle with this a lot.

“The Serendipity of Euclase”

* Awww Richard, don’t be ashamed of your pudding fail. Please keep blushing though, that’s fucking adorable.

* His little swaying with joy. 🥹

* SEIGI you cannot in one moment say “we’re just boss and employee,” and in the next moment say “‘we were kinda like a cute married couple, huh?’”! Stop playing with Richard’s emotions!!

[readyplayerhobi]

Because, I Love You | 05

; Jungkook x Older!Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 1.5k

; Synopsis:  According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

; A/N: So, this is a very short chapter that’s just...fluff. I just wanted to write something sweet and cute, nothing too intensive 😊

; Masterlist

-

Humming to yourself, you squint at your bag and try to mentally remember if you’ve got everything you need. It’s not like this is a special trip or anything, you just always forget to put stuff back into your bag and then regret it at a later time. Though you’ve found that as long as you have your car keys and your phone, you can pretty much get by anywhere.

Thank goodness for Google Pay!

Still, you ruffle through the sections and let out a quiet sound as you realise you’ve forgotten to put some reusable bags in. Putting the bag down on the console table that lives by your front door, you move back through the house to the kitchen and find two reusable plastic bags underneath the sink. Folding them up, you head back and put them in before zipping the whole bag up.

“I’m going now, babe.” You call out, grabbing some Adidas trainers from the shoe storage and hopping on one foot as you put them on. Holding onto the doorframe, you wiggle your foot into the shoe and look into the living room, noting how Jungkook’s got that vacant expression he gets when he’s either completely focused on something or, ironically, not focused on anything.

It makes you want to smile, and if you didn’t have your shoes on, you’d go over and shut his jaw for him. You just wanted to squish his cheeks and coo at how adorable he looked, despite the fact he was a grown man who was taller and buffer than you. He was going to be cursed, or blessed, with a perpetual baby face.

“Jungkook?” His name catches his attention, and those big, bright eyes flicker over to you. He looks up and down your body, taking in your outdoor outfit before they focus on your shoes, and his lips purse ever so slightly whilst a tiny crease appears between his brows.

“You’re going out?” Sighing to yourself, you stand straight once your shoes are on and put one hand on a hip. He shuffles a little awkwardly at that expression, clearly recognising your look of exasperation.

“Yeah, I told you I was meeting up with Momo today, remember? I haven’t seen her in six months because…well, life. But she’s free today so we’re going to head into the city and wander around, get some dinner or something. I’ll be back later, she might come with me so you’ll get to meet her if you want to stay. Otherwise, please lock the door behind you!” He’s still pouting, but now there’s a hint of nerves in his eyes.

Even though you’ve met his parents, he still hasn’t met yours yet and he’s only met one of your friends. You weren’t one of those people with a huge group of friends who all knew each other, instead, you just had a close handful who barely knew the other people existed. Momo was someone you knew from college, but she had a very busy career and personal life that meant the two of you never seemed to sync up.

As a result, she knew that you had a new boyfriend, though after seven months he wasn’t new anymore, and that was about it. You weren’t a talker via text, and neither was she. Either way, you’d realised upon Jungkook meeting Yuna, a friend of yours since high school, that he was an exceptionally shy person at meeting new people and he’d said barely anything to her. Not in a rude way, just in a ‘please don’t notice my existence’ way.

It was cute, and you wondered how he’d handle meeting Momo if he stayed around. She was loud and very outgoing, something you enjoyed about her in small doses. No doubt she’d be friendly, but she’d probably do some subtle interrogating and you’d end up wanting to wrap Jungkook in your arms again to soothe his frayed nerves. You loved Momo, but you’d fully admit that even you could only cope with her in small doses.

“Oh…okay. Have a good time,” He pauses, chewing on his lip for a moment before continuing, “Text me when you’re gonna come home, and I’ll clean up a bit or something.” 

At that, you look around your relatively clean house and chuckle, wondering when he’d got comfortable enough in your home to get those visitor nerves. The ones where you’re convinced your home isn’t clean enough for guests. It was sweet, but you knew Momo wouldn’t care. Not that it would soothe the nerves in him, so you’d let him do whatever he needed to.

“Okay, can I get a kiss?” You ask, pursing your lips at him expectantly. It makes him smile as he pauses his game and then stands. Before walking over to you, he stretches with a groan and you’re treated to a delightful view of his lower abs and pelvis as the shirt he’s wearing rises up. And there’s the contrast to his baby face, complete with a delightful trail of hair that you’ve followed many times.

He’s in his usual casual clothes, baggy sweatpants in a neutral dark grey combined with a matching oversized shirt. Jungkook is naturally taller and broader in the shoulders than you, and you can actually fit into his clothes. At least the oversized stuff. You’d be entirely honest by saying that you’d never once expected to be able to fit into a boyfriend’s clothes, not unless they were physically bigger than you, but Jungkook’s shirts were big even on you.

“Love you.” Jungkook murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly before giving you a sweet, but short, kiss. You can feel that he’s a bit sad about not being able to spend the day lazing around with you, the last few Saturdays had ended up with both of you being busy doing other stuff, but you both had tomorrow at least.

Squeezing his waist, you kiss him a few more times with a smile before resting your cheek against his shoulder. He’s so warm and cosy and solid and safe. You don’t think you’ve ever felt as happy and content in someone’s arms before.

“Love you, too. I’ll see you later, okay? Make sure to take a break from that!” You say teasingly, poking his stomach before gesturing towards the TV. He’s fallen back into the world of Skyrim, so it’s not unusual for him to sit there for hours and not move at all except to yell in frustration when he gets killed by a draugr or a dragon.

“Okay, okay.” Jungkook laughs, letting go of you to return to the couch.

“And eat lunch! I don’t want to come back to find you hungry, okay? There’s stuff in the fridge for a sandwich if you’re lazy, otherwise, there’s some frozen leftover stew if you want that.” It makes him laugh happily as you fuss over him, knowing he loves it and that he knows you love it too.

You watch him fondly for a moment before grabbing your bag and heading out the door. It’s only when you’re there that you realise Jungkook had parked behind you in your drive, blocking your car in and you groan quietly. Opening the door, you hurry in and peek around the corner.

“Can I take your car? You’re blocking me in.” You ask, pulling out your keys and leaving them on the console table in case he wants to go anywhere. Jungkook hums in acknowledgement and nods his head, eyes already focused on the screen so you know he’s only half listening. It’s enough for you though, so you grab his keys and hurry out the door once more.

Jungkook’s car is newer than yours, a sleek Mercedes that his parents had bought him as a present for graduating. The concept of that was wild, but thankfully he’d never shown any spoilt tendencies, if anything he was too sweet. Your parents could probably have bought you a car if you’d asked, but it would’ve been cheaper and older than this.

Jungkook happily lets you drive his fancy car, though, and you’d admit to loving it. He wasn’t hugely into cars or anything, so he wasn’t precious over it. There was nothing wrong with your car, but there was something about driving a car that had freaking mood lighting. 

It’s only when you’ve parked up that you’ve realised Jungkook can’t go home for the night if you’ve taken his car and snorted to yourself. He won’t take your car for the night, so you guess he’s probably going to meet Momo then.

[audrinawf]

How do I get my SP back? We've been together for years, and it's been months now since the breakup. I've been successful in manifesting other things like passing exams, revising grades, and attracting financial abundance for myself and my dad. I've even received overseas internship offers without even studying that much or working hard; I simply decide once that I have those, and then they got reflected in my 3D. However, this situation with my SP has to be quite challenging for me.

this is a common problem we all have. some people are better at manifesting one thing over the other.

I think you need to do a lot more shadow work / inner work to manifest a relationship cause it’s either that you have some subconscious beliefs about relationships or it’s your beliefs specific to your SP.

A few things you can do to figure out these subconscious beliefs :

analyze what kind of content you’re watching about relationships, what people are you following? are you following people on social media that hate men? Is your fyp filled with “men ain’t shit” content? cause the things we watch 57473 times a day become our reality even if we think we’re note subscribing to those beliefs.

what movies are you watching? I find 99% of the movies and tv series today just reiterate toxic beliefs about relationships.

how do you speak about relationships? I’ve been guilty of gossiping about relationship drama , like for example when a celebrity gets cheated in , the whole internet goes wild. I’ve been guilty of engaging in cheating drama. I realized that even if I was in a healthy relationship, it didn’t serve me to discuss other people’s misfortunes cause the more I did it the more I felt bad and then that turned to anxiety about my relationship.

So how do you speak about your SP? Do you keep talking about the past drama you had with your SO to your friends? I’m not judging you cause this is what I used to do. I used to retell the same story of how we broke up or how we fought multiple times cause I thought venting was good but I realized that I was just speaking the old story in to existence over and over again.

And I think society also created this mass hysteria and keeps us in a low vibration where we think all relationships are doomed and that we should all fear for our relationships.

there are good men out there, there are so many men out there who are loyal and want marriage and commitment. but whenever I go on TikTok for example all I see is this mass panic that men ain’t shit and that if Jay Z cheated on Beyoncé then we’re all doomed which then just reinforces the belief that if someone as pretty as Beyoncé gets cheated in than us uglies will as well as if cheating has anything to do with our beauty or worth. They want us to believe that cheating is just something inevitable that happens out of nowhere and that it can happen to anyone instead of just admitting that low quality men (despite how much money you have you can still be a man of low values) will cheat.

and most importantly, you can have it all. You can be a master at manifesting wealth and success and also a master at relationships. Perhaps you have some deep seated belief that you can’t have both? I’m not inside your brain so I don’t know what your beliefs are exactly.

For me personally I had to stop following a lot of creators that I looked up to cause they were successful but they had such horrible beliefs about relationships and men and I witnessed these people speak into existence a lot of negative things to their lives cause of it. And the more I watched their content the worse I felt over time.

[metaldragoon]

Today marks 10 years since I made my Tumblr account, probably.  It’s, at the very least, 10 years since my current oldest post on my main account.  I was 21 years old and living with 4 other people in a house for $500 a month, had been working at the same place I still work for about 15 months part time, and I was a pretty big Mega64 fan at the time I guess.  If you are not familiar with Mega64, the relevant piece of information to why I say “I guess” is because I was listening to all their podcasts at the time, which they’ve been doing since like 2004 or something.  They had their own forum which is how I was able to listen to all the archived podcasts, and I remember some girl on the site that I thought was hot had a link to their Tumblr page so I checked it out.  I am not really sure I even ever followed her or just creeped before making an account.  Mega64 are also prone to discussing anime, and I remember a young Derrick Acosta riding a teacup at Disneyland on one of their podcasts praising how good the soundtrack to an anime known as “DEATH NOTE” was, so I went to watch that (he was right) and sort of became addicted to anime in general from that.  Not really addicted, I feel like I still got a lot of hater fuel in me keeping me safe from addiction, but I am definitely stuck in the viscous goo, never truly able to escape anime’s grasp from that day onward.  Toaru Kagaku no Railgun which is the anime in the thumbnail above these paragraphs you’ve been reading was probably my first foray in to just watching whatever had a cute girl in it and truly becoming a degenerate.  I wouldn’t say I look back with shame but I’ve definitely reeled myself back and just watch the snobbiest, most-elite anime now.  It was also the first anime I GIF’d, January 15th of 2013 according to the archives.  Sort of surprising how quickly I got on it because I really hate doing anything for other people to perceive because if there’s one thing to know about me it’s that I can’t handle the slightest amount of criticism without spiralling down the darkest hole of depression imaginable.  Have these past 10 years been good? I don’t really know.  The last year has been really hard, since September 2021 I have been considering the current times “the worst year of my life,” but at the same time I guess it’s rolled on and I’ve made progress.  The only major relationship of my life ended this year and that was always kind of my rock for feeling like I meant anything to anyone.  I constantly find myself thinking “distance myself from everyone so that when I kill myself it won’t hurt anyone” since last January.  Overall being with someone I loved for 6 years made me a much better person, but just emotionally it’s quite a valley afterwards.  I didn’t have my dog for as long as a lot of people, but he was with me for 7 years and I had to put him down because of liver cancer in September which I already wrote about, but, I mean, that was really hard and I still get emotional about it a surprising amount.  Work’s good but sucks at the same time and just feels like a suppressant to everything in life.  Just stand there and exist, go home in 8 hours, one day closer to the end of my life sentence of being a cog in the machine.  Lots of old man injuries along the way but I’m pretty hard on my self physically so I can’t complain too much about a few torn tendons and ligaments over a decade.  Can still run and hoop, and I guess that’s good enough.  Hard to remember who you were ten years ago, but I guess the biggest thing that’s changed is not being afraid of aging.  31′s getting up there! but with newfound perspective it’s really not.  Barring unfortunate circumstances 80′s probably a safe minimum age and that’s more than twice as long as anything I can even perceive.  I think I’ve always had old man energy anyways so I look forward to being a crotchety miserable old grandpa complaining about everything as part of a “bit” that only I know is a bit. 

[broadswordandpistol]

Dear Uncle

So earlier today I promised a post about Alvin and Gilland. I have a lot of thoughts about this, but I’m not sure I can parlay that into a coherent essay. Expect this to be more like “here are these things I’ve observed about Xillia, writing Alvin, and writing Alvin with Gilland -- specifically @gilandor-yul-svent.”

I’ve had some people say to me, “ew, why do you write with Gilland of all people,” and truthfully, it’s because Gilland is important to Alvin. Alvin’s life is not sunshine and roses. It’s hard, it’s a struggle, and Gilland is part of what makes Alvin who he is. Also, his mun is a terrific writer and a good friend.

Lots of this will be headcanon, and a bit of it will contradict existing canon because I think it fits my interpretation of Alvin better. I’m not saying the canon is wrong, just saying that this is how my Alvin works.

It’s also worth noting that I’m a native English speaker. My Japanese is minimal. I am basing this -- and 99.9% of my interpretation of Alvin, as well -- on the English material. (If you want to know what the other 0.1% is, that’s a different post.)

First things first: canon suggests that Gilland was 15 when the Zenethra crossed the Schism. I headcanon him as a bit older; otherwise he is only 9 years older than Alvin, and substantially younger than Alvin’s father and Leticia, most likely at least five or six years younger. I find it hard to believe from his character model that he’s only 35 in Xillia. He should be younger than Alvin’s father, but not necessarily a lot younger.

The relationship between Alvin and Gilland reads to me as if there has always been a substantial age difference between them. Gilland gives orders; Alvin is expected to obey. He holds Alvin’s birthright over his head, and the coat, as well. (In canon, it’s Gilland’s coat. In practicality, I can’t see him ever wearing it. It’s absolutely the wrong colors on him. My headcanon is that it’s Alvin’s father’s coat, which makes a lot more sense, especially because Leticia continually mistakes Alvin for his father.)

On the Zenethra, before you fight Gilland, Alvin tells him “the truth is that I’ve always despised you.” I think for Alvin, that is true only in the moment. Yes, he despises Gilland, and yes, he’s despised him for a long, long time. I don’t think that’s always been true. I think there are old mixed feelings there, from when Alvin was much younger. He rushes to Gilland’s side when he falls in combat, and there’s exhaustion and sadness in his voice when he says, “goodbye, Uncle.” Losing Gilland closes one chapter of Alvin’s life -- it frees him, but at the same time, it destroys one of the few ties he has remaining to his original life.

Moving into my Alvin’s history, in particular:

Gilland has been part of my Alvin’s life since he was very young. @gilandor-yul-svent took little five-year-old Alfred for strawberry pancakes, and shopping for a Halloween costume. (For the record, Alfred chose the Dread Pirate Aifread, and requested that Uncle Gilland be his bo’sun.) Gilland has always been a hard man to know. He’s cantankarous and can be -- usually is -- self-serving. But there are times when there’s a decent guy under that shell. They’re rare, and I think you have to be pretty close to him to see them. He’s mostly a villain -- but that emphasis is on mostly. Even bad guys do good things, sometimes.

Alvin hangs onto those memories, and he remembers ... sometimes -- sometimes Gilland has some good in him.

In the verse I write with @gilandor-yul-svent​ that includes Gilland’s survival, yeah, he’s about as hard to kill as Alvin. Destroyed by combat, his spyrite, and sunk into the bottom of the ocean? Nah, he popped back up out of that like a daffodil out of a snowbank.

It took them a while to reconcile. I should note that this includes some actual real life paper mail exchanges -- Gilland and Alvin exchange holiday cards. There’s very definitely some growth in those, over time.

These days? Well, Gilland has offered, at least once, to screw over the Skylark Exchange for Alvin. Alvin -- as tempted as he was, and boy, he was tempted -- turned him down. But he appreciated the offer. Okay, it’s not exactly a “good” thing to do, but hey, at least Uncle was thinking about him, and offered to do him a favor. They stay out of each others’ way most of the time, squabble occasionally, and get along decently well, all things considered.

Forgiveness is hard, and maybe Alvin will never fully forgive him, but he tries. Spirits know Alvin needed all the forgiveness he got from other people. He tries to give that back, as best he can.

... after all, Gilland’s family. And Alvin doesn’t have much of that left.

[deathisthestart]

My note as of today… I won’t do it now but maybe tomorrow my mindset will change…..

Suicide note 10/9/24

As you know, it’s been a very rough couple of months for me . if you find out about what My husband did to me and how he could hurt me continuously finding out things that he’s been doing to me over the years really hurts. Really huge crash in my soul. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I love my daughter Sophia so much what kind of woman am I? What kind of woman loses her husband to an 18 year old child? What kind of woman cannot keep her husbands eyes on her? What kind of woman am I if I have to keep begging for attention and love and reassurance that he feels this way about me.? I’m no woman. I can barely bare children and I can’t keep a husband. he just looks at other women all the time lust over them online and he looks for women who look nothing like me. Big breasted, women, skinny women, Asian women, women who are nothing like me. He cheated on me with someone who was nothing like me. Would I have preferred him to cheat on me with someone who looks exactly like me ?absolutely not but to know that everything that he goes for everything that he’s able to risk his family for is everything that I’m not just let me know that he doesn’t want me he stuck here with me. Even though I love him even though I feel like he was the love of my life he doesn’t feel that way it’s not reciprocated back. Why is it so hard for him to love me just for me why is it so difficult? am I that horrible of a person to just be loved That horrible people keep their eyes on me.? what’s wrong with me? I’m not a mother. I’m not someone that he wants to. I’m not someone that he wants to lift up and show off to the world. I’m not that person. I’m the person that he hides in a closet and tells her things when no one around. I wish I could be more than him, but I’m not I wish my baby in my stomach would understand what I’m feeling, but I cannot explain this to her. She knows what she knows and sadness. I don’t want Sophia to see me and when he leaves because he’s going to . I see him so I’m gonna leave first he’s gonna be with someone who’s 18 to 26 white completed big breasted girl that I’m not..

I just want Sophia to know that I love her absolutely so much I would have killed for her. I would die for her. I get after her not because I mean I get after her because I want what’s best for her. She has so much opportunity so much power to be amazing and great I don’t even believe in God I’m not even sure if he exist, but I pray to him every day that she didn’t come out, looking like me and thankfully she did not. My mental health issues is not what’s causing this. This is what happens when a man makes a women feel worthless every day. I cannot be near him. I feel disgusting and I hate being around him because I see his eyes and he does the looking and trying to be discreet about it. He starts threatening me that he’s gonna leave me that he can’t deal with this shit anymore but how come he doesn’t listen to me. I try to explain myself I can’t deal with this. Why can’t he just stop lookingfor that, he cannot control his vision, but it’s OK. I won’t have to hear that much longer. Maybe I’ll be at peace maybe I won’t have to worry about if I look good enough for him. I’m very tired and I’m very pregnant and I’m very very sleepy so sick of questioning why I wasn’t good enough why he did the things that he did to me. I was great. But that’s not my problem anymore. It won’t be his. He won’t have to deal with me for 18 more years and he won’t have to deal with anyone else. All he hast to do is take care of our Sophia and make sure that she lives in good healthy life. I couldn’t see myself without him but he could see his life without me, easily. So I just want you to know I love you. I’m not leaving because I hate you. I love you so freaking much sometimes I just look at you sleep and I just wanna squeeze you and tell you how much I love you because you’re such an amazing kid doesn’t matter how often you bicker back-and-forth you’re so amazing. I love you so much, I cannot imagine how my life would have been if you did not come into it. I just want you to do your best in life don’t ever live for someone else don’t you ever fall in love with someone else you fall in love with yourself and I think that was my biggest problem. I didn’t fall in love with myself first. I fell in love with your dad and his love, truthfulness and his honesty and I didn’t get any of that. I got a lot of insecurities, heartbreak and disappointment. Everyone will see that he was a good provider but providing is not everything you can throw money at someone and be emotionally unavailable for them . It doesn’t show them that you love them . And if you know me. I just wanted to be loved. My code to the phone is 9747 to read our message exchanges. He never listen to me. He didn’t care all. I was a fucking idiot to him.

Sophia, please live your life as a free spirit and please don’t ever let anyone make you feel less than what you are. I’ve told you this many times before but I want you to shine brighter than any star in this world. You are an amazing person and amazing individual and you’re an amazing daughter. I’m so happy that I had you as a daughter Sophia , you are the light of my life and I love you so much. I hope you don’t get upset with me for doing this was not easy. I just want you to always remember that I love you so much and in another lifetime I’ll find you again. I promise I hope in another universe you would be happy sitting on the couch, drinking hot chocolate watching Hocus Pocus or Beetlejuice but for now it’ll all be OK. I will find you again I pinky swear I love you Sophia . We will meet again in the future and I’ll love you just as much as I do now. Please don’t hate me but live for me.

[joeyxrubiconway]

Memento Mori — remember death

Cloaked in the colors of military victory, a Roman general parades through his adoring city.

At the height of his triumph, a servant leans in and whispers in the general’s ear:

Respice post te. Hominem te esse memento. Memento Mori. Look behind you. Remember that you are a man. Remember that you must die.

These servants (known as “auriga,”) were hired to keep the war hero from becoming overly confident, reminding him of his own finitude.

From Ancient Rome to the Renaissance, the idea spread.

Memento Mori themes were common in the humanities, reminding everyone from the wealthiest merchant to the humblest farmer that death is the great equalizer.

Today, these ancient ideas are being rediscovered through philosophies like stoicism.

Best-selling author Ryan Holiday, often considered the modern-day OG on stoic living, puts it this way:

I firmly believe the thought of our mortality should shadow everything that we do, not in a way that is depressing, but liberating. It should let you cut out bullshit…let you decide how you’re going to treat other people…

Imagine your existence laid out simply:

Say you’re 35 years old — you’ve lived 1,820 weeks, 12,775 days, and 306,600 hours.

I first grasped the significance of death at age 8, when my grandmother died of cancer.

Until then, I’d thought death might somehow be reversible.

Now, I watch my own 7-year-old son grappling with this realization as family members pass away.

Or my 11-year-old daughter who wants to make sure she hugs me every night, knowing that it could be the last time.

Eventually, you realize that all living things die, including ourselves.

Yet as adults, we often find it more comfortable to keep thoughts of death at a distance — until we have no choice but to confront them.

Rich or poor, good-looking or not, we share this fate.

Steve Jobs perspective shifted dramatically when facing pancreatic cancer.

In his own words:

At this moment, as I lay sick in bed, I realize that recognition and wealth are insignificant in the face of impending death…

In Jobs’ final years, this realization led him to (attempt) reconciliation with his estranged daughter, Lisa.

Then, there’s the finality of death.

A desire for something more — an idea noted by thinkers for thousands of years.

King Solomon captured this longing in Ecclesiastes 11:3:

He (God) has put eternity into man’s heart..

Whether or not you believe in eternity, death has a way of bringing out what matters most to us.

I experienced this firsthand when my dad had a close call with COVID. During those tense moments, I saw a side of him I’d never seen before. He shared things he needed to say, and I’m deeply grateful for those words.

Death forces you to think about your desires, life goals and responsibilities, and decide what you want to do.

You can do it while acknowledging that you’ll be neglecting many other things that matter too.

Not being able to do everything you wanted is the paradox that makes life special — if things lasted forever, you wouldn’t appreciate the finitude of time.

Memento Mori isn’t about fear of death, it’s more about living in full awareness of the limited time we do have.

So, as you go about your day, let the whisper of the auriga remind you to cherish the moment you’re in right now.

There is only one success — to be able to spend your life in your own way.

— Christopher Morley

[haya-haya-iamthatiam]

Volcano Earthquake And Wildfire Update Live With World News Report Today... Trending: Parenting | Suffering | Resurrection | ChatGPT | Spirituality | HopePROGRESSIVE CHRISTIANThe Real Meaning of Beulah Land: Reflections on Isaiah 62:1-5 JANUARY 17, 2016 BY JOHN HOLBERTLectionary Reflections Isaiah 62:1-6 January 17, 2016I begin with confession. I love the old gospel songs when sung by a male quartet (sexist, I know!), with the lead baritone crooning the melody, the stratospheric tenor singing far higher than the staves, the "normal" tenor providing inner harmonies, all anchored by a stentorian bass, whose low notes defy logic and gravity. I still listen to such stuff, knowing all too well that these hymns enshrine terrible theology, little of which I can stomach, and more than a few hokey intonations that make me cringe and smile all at once. When I read Isaiah 62, one of these old tunes pops into my head: "I'm Dwelling in Beulah Land."I doubt many of those who sing this chestnut realize that they are in fact singing something in Hebrew; Beulah is Hebrew for "married," and the prophet, echoing the mouth of YHWH, announces that the formerly "desolate" land of Israel (shemamah in Hebrew) will no longer be alone and devastated but will now find genuine happiness as when a young man and a young woman marry. In fact, "your builder" (YHWH) will marry you and will, like a young bridegroom, rejoice over God's bride (Israel). In short, Isaiah proclaims an end to the disaster of exile and foretells a rich future for the shattered land, one filled with hope and joy. This new thing will be accompanied by a change of names; Shemamah ("the devastated") will turn into Hephzibah ("my delight is in her"). I once had a distantly related relative named Hephzibah, but I have never known anyone named Shemamah. A good thing, no?But does the old hymn capture the full meaning of what Beulah land represents to Isaiah? I think not, and in this transformation from Isaiah to Charles Miles' song of 1911, we could discover a tragic truth about what has happened to our appropriation of the biblical word. Isaiah is focused clearly on YHWH's actions on behalf of the chosen people of Israel, whose "vindication" and "salvation" will be witnessed by "the nations" and whose "glory" will be seen by "all the kings." God's work of vindication and salvation are public acts, political acts, designed to demonstrate to the entire world what YHWH has in mind for the earth God created.Compare that public proclamation with Miles' understanding of Beulah Land.Far away the noise of strife upon my ear is falling; Then I know the sins of earth beset on every hand; Doubt and fear and things of earth in vain to me are calling; None of these shall move me from Beulah Land.I'm living on the mountain, underneath a cloudless sky, I'm drinking at the fountain that never shall run dry; Oh, yes! I'm feasting on the manna from a bountiful supply, For I am dwelling in Beulah Land.Several things should be quickly noted about this portrayal of Beulah Land. It is "far away" from noise and strife, removed utterly from the "sins of earth," completely devoid of "doubt and fear and things of earth." But, note carefully that all of those things still exist on the earth, but they do not exist at all in Beulah Land. Also, the pronoun is consistently "I." "I'm living" and "drinking" and "feasting" on a mountain under a sky without clouds.In short, Beulah Land is something like a popular notion of heaven, a place where individuals may find rest and safety from the horrors of earth that are characterized in the second verse by "the storm of doubt," where the "sons of men in battle long the enemy withstand." (Only three years after the hymn's writing, World War I will break out and many sons of men will find their muddy deaths in the trenches of France and Germany.) But such agonies are not for those who dwell in Beulah Land: "Safe am I within the castle of God's Word retreating; nothing then can reach me — 'tis Beulah Land."Verses three and four promise more of the same. "I am safe forever in Beulah Land," because "dwelling in the Spirit, here I learn of full salvation; gladly will I tarry in Beulah Land." This portrait of an individual salvation, protected by "the castle of God's Word," cradled calmly in God's Spirit from which I learn of "full salvation," is in every way not at all what Isaiah envisioned in his prophetic word.Isaiah speaks clearly of the refusal of YHWH to "keep silent" until Jerusalem's vindication rises like the dawn, until her salvation is a "burning torch" (Is. 62:1). YHWH will never rest until all the nations and each one of their kings witnesses these actions of God. Beulah Land here is not some place of individualized heavenly rest, far above the warring masses that pollute the earth. Beulah Land is Jerusalem transformed by the power of YHWH into a model place of justice and righteousness, a place that can serve all the nations as the very symbol of YHWH's desires for the entire earth. After all, YHWH is the earth's "builder," its creator; YHWH desires for it the fullest measure of shalom, that is, unity and wholeness, a beacon light for the entire creation.

[jonathankatwhatever]

It’s 5 June 2023 and I feel lost, like I don’t know who I am. I’ve spent the last days away from work, away from engaging with the part of me that is me deep inside. I feel distant. I even stopped trying to bend my hurt fingers. Not sure if I’m letting them heal or letting them stiffen. We shall find out.

Every place I was yesterday I’d seen in a dream. A Chinese restaurant, a car parked directly in front turned out to be the one I was in. The man in a uniform carrying a bad looking at a man in a wheelchair was a doorman holding a food delivery waiting for Jared’s grandfather, who is 98 today, to be pushed out the door.

Much of the day was previously seen. The entire scene at the restaurant, including the baby shower I walked past, with the expectant mom’s dress. The room. The chair outside. The trains going by on the elevated tracks.

I’ve had many ideas why this can happen. The math shows how it’s possible, though I now see that we’ve connected to it from two sides now rather than one. That is - and note the we in the last sentence - the prior idea was one-sided, that there are multiple pathways and those can be seen from your perspective in a dream form under a few conditions. This requires understanding dream visuals, which consist of images taken from these pathways, often cobbled together, so they fit a narrative. As in, my repeated dreams which used images from my childhood home: they were easily accessible and thus could be inserted as background without rendering the actual background. I noticed this many, many years ago when I’d be in a scene, in a conversation, and it appeared to take place in front of our house on Woodbank and yet a car would drive up what would be lawn. Or something else would happen that said this is not really that place.

Given that, I noticed the images often didn’t fit at all. I had a series of violent dreams which persisted until I realized the setting appeared to be a hotel lobby or the like with people in it and nothing actually happened in those images even though a battle was the storyline. I assumed then that meant I had no war images to fit, so what did fit was a scene that filled the space, that could take being overwritten with whatever that dream was about. I had this kind of experience countless times and the idea has stood up.

Now we can connect this to the conception of a Thing - the first time I feel like I’m actually thinking - within D-structure, so we can say with 100% certainty that our Things do indeed pull together imagery, that these Things have access to D4-3 constructs. So that makes a 2nd side: the process which affects me, which exists in Togs form, meaning the DC&R process operates ‘externally’ or on the Boundary of my Thing, and in Tigs form, meaning it meets what wells up from me.

One effect of ‘being away’ is that I spent time looking at you from outside my perspective. I ended up back at the same place I was when I gave up on you because I couldn’t get past the surface identification of you. I’m not sure that came out well. I mean the identification of you as being inverted and twisted versus the identification of you as a good looking talented ordinary person with a gift for manipulation. I remember that very well because it capped a long period of anguished and often angry arguments in which I would swear to not think about you again, that you were glittering surfaces built around something whose core was either unknowable or somehow diseased, meaning you showed all the signs I was attuned to pick up on but as a false representation of the forces driving me, as felt by you, as responded to by you. I think that is the core of my doubt, when you get into it.

That period ended when I was standing in the gym and decided to give it one last shot. I remember the image: looking at my phone, being very focused, seeing the song IDWLF, listening to maybe 30 seconds, stopping, looking up the song, listening, thinking ‘there’s real in that’.

I’ve gone through those same emotions over the last few days.

It was especially acute because the ‘event’ brought together so many human threads. His parents are very old and in poor health. His father is essentially blind and can barely walk. He isn’t able to hold conversations for long. His mother is in a lot of physical pain and that plus her meds make it difficult for her. So we had them and us in the middle and my daughter in a beautiful dress at the other end. All things pass.

That isn’t really true. I had this argument when George’s album came out: it’s not that all Things pass but that corporeal Things pass, while the eternal does not. That is the work in a nutshell: join your incorporeal Thing to the eternal or die.

It’s a subject I visit often. Walking around after the ceremony and lunch, I heard a guy playing his electric chair. Hendrix. A song that came out before 1970, over 50 years ago. When that song came out, I thought, if I went back 50 years, I’d be somewhere between Irving Berlin’s first hit, Alexander’s Ragtime Bank from 1915 and the Gershwin’s I Got Rhythm. No one listened to those when I was young. Most people today don’t even know those songs exist, outside perhaps the idea of them.

That music will fade too. And I thought: what is more ephemeral than music? Than a concert? You can’t even lift a note in your hand. Images on screens that change and then go dark at the show’s end. And yet creating the highest ephemeral moment gets you closer to that peak, which raised another problem in my mind. No easy way to say this but I was walking through the gay section of Toronto and was struck by how old-fashioned it is because, on the one hand, you had all these people with their families, with their dogs, with their regular lives, and on the other you had those who were treating this as a way of, as we used to say, letting their freak flag fly. That culture to me seems really dated: you don’t need to assert who you are by acting out like that, by being overtly sexual in public in front of kids because you are letting you out. The idea that you somehow need to ‘let you out’ is of course correct, but that you is also supposed to be a normal human being who happens to have these sexual and gender identifications. That layer of kink really fits better with other layers of kink, not with pride in family, friends, and community. I think the barrier there is that people clearly are bound or constrained by the way their acceptance of themselves occurred through a process of opposition. That’s a huge topic.

This society seems to have accepted as true that struggle can be eliminated if only people were 100% tolerant of anything that this society at that time deems ‘best’. That is untrue. The math says it is not possible.

I have to go now. Driving back.

[autumnalwalker]

A Dream About Betrayal

Author's Note/Content Warning: Death of a close friend and not-particularly-graphic violence. It's strange how in dreams you can have incredibly intense relationships with people that don't exist in your waking life nor bear any resemblance to anyone you know.

I am lying among the refuse of a seaside garbage dump, washed out of a storm drain.  A dear friend of mine has died.  Heroic sacrifice and all that.  

Much later I will learn that she has been cloned many times over by the very ones she fought.  Somehow they preserved her memories and personality and loaded them into her copies, albeit with slight variations in each instance. Some will remain loyal to their creators, but most will band together, escape, and continue their fight.  My first meeting with one of the loyal copies - her standing atop a paramilitary vehicle and wearing her enemy’s corporate colors, ready to apprehend me or worse - will be an event of disbelief and despair.  My subsequent rescue by and “reunion” with those who rebelled will be joyous but confusing.  They all prefer to keep using her original name, but make the concession of nicknames around others if there’s more than one of her present. 

But that is all much later and I know none of it yet.  For now I am lying debris, bereaved and nearly without hope. 

A courier finds me.  He has a package from her for me.  He has many packages from her for those she knew in the event of her death.  He says no more.  I cannot bring myself to open the package just yet, but I can muster the strength to follow him out of this place. 

The courier does not wait for me though and I lose sight of him.  I see him again in the distance handing a narrow package longer than I am tall to a man I once knew.  The man’s features - an unfortunate case of genetics - have left him unjustly branded a monster since his youth.  That never mattered to her and me.  The three of us were good friends once upon a time.  But then he finally broke under that terrible societal pressure and began living up to his hitherto entirely undeserved reputation. 

It’s our fault - hers and mine - that he now lives here in a shack amid the flotsam and jetsam, unwelcome even in the junkyard’s shantytown, instead of ruling with an iron fist from some palace or penthouse or manor. 

I always regretted how things turned out. Wished that we could have made a kinder fate for him than this or death. 

I know I should put my head down and keep moving, but I can’t help but stop and watch.  It’s a mistake.

A woman arrives.  She’s come from across the sea to find him.  To finally find someone else like her.  I point her towards him. 

He finally notices me and in his fury he ignores the newcomer altogether.  Another tragedy wrought by my inaction.  He storms up to me, ranting and raging.  How dare I show my face after what I did to him?

Tears in my eyes, I cry out the only real thought that’s been in my head since I awoke.

“She’s dead.”

He says he doesn’t care. 

I ask if that package he just got is from her.  

He says he doesn’t care. 

I plead with him, desperate to know what’s inside. 

He tosses it aside into a nearby scrap heap. 

I say I’m sorry.  

He hits me. 

I run. 

He chases me. 

He catches me in the shantytown.

He beats me. 

I hit back. 

Our fight goes through the narrow alleyways.  It lasts a long time and we travel a fair distance.  On a good day I could probably win.  Today I can barely muster the will to defend myself. 

He throws me to the ground. 

I whimper “I’m sorry,” over and over again with tears streaming down my eyes as I crawl into a hole in the wall filled with exposed wires that would electrocute me if this place actually had any power. 

He says to come back and find him if I still feel that way tomorrow morning.

[miraculous-tigereye]

Help Him Out!

The next day was definitely different. I awoke to see everything was just as it was when I laid down, it was almost too perfect. For a moment, I truly believed what happened was a dream. But it couldn’t have been, right? It had to have been real, all of it. The villain, the building almost collapsing, the superheroes, Chat Noir, too. I decided to continue on tentatively, taking everything for what it was until I found evidence to prove myself wrong.

My day continued on as casual as usual. Get up, get ready, eat, head to school. The second day was less intense, people weren’t ogling me as much and I could breathe. Everything seemed to be okay, and classes were flowing smoothly. Though I do have to admit, I dislike science class. The teacher is mean, and her work is very complicated for no reason! It’s fine, though, I manage to survive and the bell rings for dismissal of the school day.

Somewhere inside I feel something akin to disappointment. What happened last night? Was it all real? I worry that it wasn’t, that I’ll never taste anything as exciting as that again. But, I see that— thankfully— I am wrong. The ground shakes and another villain has appeared! I cannot se them, but I can hear the shrill voice that calls out to those superheroes from last night. Ladybug and Chat Noir. I know the latter, but yet to acknowledge the former. Perhaps it was their ability that fixed everything, the magic ladybugs? Whatever it was, it was exciting.

However I do not put myself into the direct line of danger, I’m not a fool. Instead, I find a safer place to hide and wait out until it’s over. It’s taking a while, but I don’t want to get hurt. I find himself huddled against a locker in the far corner with my knees drawn to my chest and my hair in front of my eyes. It’s risky to even move, and I decide to sit there until I see those magical Ladybugs again.

In the mean time, I check the news and notice that this villain, a monster with a sword-hand, is rampaging. There I also find articles linking back to something called Ladyblog. I continue to scroll, occasionally wincing at the damage I can hear, and find more information. Though most of it is centered around this Ladybug superhero, there is some information about Chat Noir. I learn that he works alongside Ladybug to protect the world from this villain named Hawkmoth. Who are these people? why are they doing this? The curiosity plagues me, yet the answers allude me.

Finally, after what seems like hours, the ladybugs flutter around and clean up the mess. Any damages that were once visible to me no longer exist, just as new, just like last night. The thought festers before I stand to leave, heading home.

I nearly bump into a few people, and I know I’m not really watching where I’m going, but I can’t help it! This Ladyblog is so full of information, and good information at that. I’m so curious! What is a miraculous? A lucky charm? A cataclysm? Just as I almost run face-first into the 4th person today, I pocket my phone and decide to no longer obstruct my vision.

I find myself standing at the corner of a crosswalk, waiting to pass. The numbers are ticking down before the cars go, and I decide to not risk it and stay. However I see an older man still walking as the numbers count own. Concern brews but I believe he can make it. Then, time runs out and the hand tells us to stop, but he’s still there, walking, slowly. That is, until an impatient car swerves around him to get to wherever they need to go. The sudden movement startles him, and he falls!

Something pushes me to help the man, and so I do! Without a thought of self-concern, i throw myself forward and help cushion the man’s fall by preventing his head from hitting the pavement harshly. He seems a bit shocked but overall okay. A scowl makes itself onto my face as I eye the license plate of the car driving away. Despite mentally noting the plate, i know nothing will come of it. I sigh and redirect my attention. A stray horn honking brings me back to reality where I help the man up— as slow as i please, those cars can wait— and assist him across the crosswalk. Once on the other side, I let out a few anxiety-ridden breaths.

“Are you okay?” I start with some wound up tension in my voice, that driver was so reckless.

“I am, thank you, young man.” The old man smiles up at me, and I smile in return, “Young man” cools the fire broiling in my chest. What a kind stranger. “The world needs more people like you,” He brushes himself off.

“Ah, how kind. We need to be better people to one another.” I bow formally in response, brushing off the indirect compliment with a humble manner. “Please be well, sir! It was a pleasure meeting you,”

The man smiles and nods. “Likewise,” then, he turns and leaves.

I follow suit and begin heading back home, the chaos from earlier pushed to the back of my mind. I find myself worrying if people are so inconsiderate on a daily basis, is it really that common? I hope that such a sweet man would be treated better than that. If not, let him in specific be treated well.

Soon I make it home, greeting my host parents kindly before taking a snack from the kitchen and heading upstairs to my room. My bag feels a bit heavier than before, but I pay no mind to it. Instead, I grab my laptop to begin homework. I’ve got work to do!

[seffora-merryweather]

lucrezia:

he was a good man, seffora had stated. and in that, lucrezia wholly agreed. that despite his flaws, she genuinely believed mathis rowan to be of the kindest souls she had ever encountered. the one that slipped out of the tree to help her find her way back to the keep, both ten and two. the gods allowed people to wear their souls on their face. his was written all over it, with every small glance, every smile.

“one of the best.”

and there was something about this conversation that seemed to leave chills creeping down the neck of the lady of the arbor; how much had changed over these months had no doubt caused her fear, and that had always been an issue the woman needed to deal with. accepting change when it comes.“your patience and prayers shows; for the gods have left it up to you to decide who to take as a husband. as much as he will take you as a wife.”

she remembered being six and ten again, noting the way in which her eyebrows were thicker and darker than those of the pearl of highgarden, how hair that was entirely natural was more noticeable on her own arms, how her figure was never as slender as helena tyrell. how she once had thought the sun was the world, only to realise the sun was only meant to stay for some amount of time.

“there is no way for you to know such a thing, lady merryweather. you would have hardly been a stranger, and no doubt a most loving and dedicated wife. you need not doubt yourself so.”

Seffora couldn’t quite tell how the sort of empathy that existed between the two of them had formed. It was there one day, it felt like, and the young lady was immensely grateful for it. In the Lady of the Arbor she had unexpectedly found someone who seemed to understand her worries and her wishes, someone as wise as she was kind. Whether intentional or not, the Mistress of Ships was patiently guiding the younger, less experienced woman. So, in seeing the shades of grief in Lucrezia’s eyes, Seffora placed a hand on the lady’s arm, simply offering silent comfort and company.

“I am grateful for that choice, of course,” the Lady of Longtable admitted. Once, she’d told Rhys Arryn that she didn’t wish to marry a Reach lord, a sentiment that came from wanting to choose someone her heart wanted. It felt naive and silly to say so back then. Today, holding the title she did, it felt like a possibility. She had a certain amount of power to rule her own life. “I would have endeavored to be a good wife to him. But now that I have more freedom in my choice, it’s one I wish to make with both my mind and my heart”.

There is no way for you to know such a thing, the Redwyne lady said. But there was, wasn’t it? “He never looked at any woman the way he looked at you, my lady,” she said, her voice gentle, her expression open and sincere. It wasn’t a reproach in any way, but a subtle truth that Seffora had noticed. She’d always been good at observing, and while the Rowan lord had a way of looking at the late Tyrell princess, there was something particular about him around Lucrezia. “It’s not- It’s not my place to say something like that. I’m sorry,” she added after a moment.

[qierxing]

Under the Sea

Yan! Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Halloween AU

CW/TW: Reader is noted with both she and they pronouns interchangeably due to their fluid state of being but is still considered G/N overall

“If you choose to lock your heart away, you’ll lose it for certain.”

–

Dead men tell no tales, they said.

Sailing would be easy, they said. 

Did they think about the repercussions of unforetold supernatural problems?

The rancid smell of seaweed and brine makes your nose scrunch as you’re hauled up and thrown roughly onto your knees, shredding even more of your nice clothing. You doubt the cold hands cared though. After all, what is one puny mortal against a whole ship full of undead pirates?

“This one ‘ere’s seems to be the ca’pn, sir.” A guttural growl echoes above you, and murmurs of more crewmates surround you. 

It was a good run, you thought to yourself. You fought till the end, until your daggers and saber were knocked out of your hands, your skin slashed and bruised, and till they had to pin you down from causing more trouble. It was more than what you could say for your own crewmates, the traitorous, cowardly scum, leaving you immediately and trying to flee with their own lives. Didn’t matter though, because they were all immediately slaughtered without mercy. You’d have more pity for them dying in their own pools of blood if they didn’t abandon you first.

A barnacle covered boot tips your chin up, and you’re face to face with a smug man, piercing green eyes, dark hair like coal tied in dreads and braids, tall and lithe figure to boot. The captain of this crew, no doubt.

“You. Herbivore. What’s yer name?”

People back home called you many names. The looney merchant. A superstitious fanatic. Raving madman on the better days. Today, you can now safely say they’re all fitting.

“...[First]. [First] [Last].” You cough up, after the boot digs into the crook of your chin and head, causing an unbearable pressure on your throat. The pressure removes itself and you’re left choking for air while the man hums in thought.

“Well, ca’pn Leona?” The voice behind you asks. A scrawny, weasley sounding voice. Must be the one who binded you. “Dunno why you kept this one alive.”

You could practically hear the grin in the next words. 

“‘Cuz they got some worth to ‘em right now.”

–

“Have ye heard about the myth of Calypso?”

The name sets you on edge immediately. A pirate asking after the revered primordial sea goddess? That can only mean…

“Who hasn’t?” You shrug your shoulders flippantly. “Every child in a coastal town has heard about how she controls the seas and watches over sailors.”

An annoyed growl is your response. It seems your hunch was correct. “Not that, idiot. I meant about her curse.”

Aha.

“Curse?”

The captain gnashes his canines impatiently. “The one where she curses her lover for leaving her.”

“Ah, that. Yes, I’m acquainted.” You decide to stop teasing him and see where this leads. 

“I need ta find her ring.” Silence reigns. You furrow your brows and cross your arms.

“You mean, the one that so happens to be dropped into the ocean, never to be seen again? The one where Calypso, herself, has been rumored to destroy? That ring?”

“Yes, that damn ring!” The ghost snarls, banging his fist on the desk, causing documents and books to fall off. “I need to find that ring so I can finally–!”

“That ring has been gone for more than a millenia. Scratch that, it’s not even proven to ever have existed.” You interrupt, uncrossing your arms, leaning brazenly on the rickety oak desk. “And yet, you’re wanting to stake your undead life on this trinket?”

A knife is driven a finger’s width away from your hand. You don’t blink as the captain’s face becomes inches away from your own. “What does a mortal know about being undead?! What do ye know of–” He cuts himself off, a pained look clouding his eyes. You only observe as he breathes in deeply.

“Alright. I’ll help you find it.” His head whips up in surprise. “On several conditions.”

He smirks. “Negotiatin’? You’ve got guts. Name ‘em.”

“One, that you promise not to kill or harm me at any point, especially after our deal is over. Second, once this is all over, you’ll return me back to land. Third and finally, you return my belongings back from your loot.”

The captain mulls over your words, deep in thought. Beads of sweat run down your back. It was a daring bluff, but if you were kept alive this long, it had to be for something!

He runs his hand down his face, groaning. “You drive a steep price. Fine. It’s a deal.”

A crack of an incoming thunderstorm echoes as you both shake hands.

–

You were many things. You were once a privateer. A bartender. Even a librarian at some point, shelving books for hours till the daylight blended to blue darkness.

But never, in your entire life, have you been made to scrub deck floorboards.

The sun beating down upon your aching figure feels like salt on top of many wounds. The biting smell of lye only makes your head spin and fingers burn. 

Worth? Was your worth really amounting to just being a ship’s hands?!

Unbelievable. You end up slipping and nearly falling on your face into the bubbly mess. Left alive, but only to be doing dirty work for ghost pirates. If only the people back home could see you now…

“Shihehehe! Nice work, newbie. Cap’n Leona wants ta see you now, by the way.” The weasley voice! You look up to see squinty gray eyes and sharp teeth, all in a narrow face. There’s something unnerving about the way the ghost leans over you with his smirk, as if he’s a beast ready to devour its prey.

Shaking away the bubbles and your shame, you silently march right past him and into a sturdy chest.

“Oi, watch where ya goin’!” An angry rumble shakes you back to view the familiar face with silver hair and golden eyes that pushed you down back then. You stand your ground as the both of you stare each other down.

“My bad.” The man grunts as you push past him. “What’s their problem?” is the last thing you hear before you’re out of earshot.

You’re in a foul mood by the time you see Leona’s mug, and it seems he is too.

“What’s the hold up on finding the ring?!” He growls. His clothes are a mess more than usual, hair rumpled, and even his desk is near inhabitable. 

You huff. “If I wasn’t bogged down on ship chores perhaps I can work more on that map to get you there, Captain.”

“We’re short on manpower, if ye can’t tell. Also I can’t have ye havin’ enough time to go schemin’ behind me back.” You roll your eyes, walking up to his desk and yanking out a long parchment, causing a rather cute yelp from Leona.

“Hey–!” You unravel the aged parchment, scanning over the red lines and dots that circle the map.

“Wow, you’ve made no progress at all. Do you really wanna find this ring?” The parchment is snatched out of your hands as Leona angrily snarls. 

“Shut yer trap! I’m workin’ on it.” You heave a long sigh, walking over to his desk and starting to arrange the scattered papers and books. 

“What the hell are you doin’?” 

“What does it look like? I’m helping organize your space. Since you’re ‘working’ on it, nothing wrong with making your environment better, no?”

He only grumbles in response, but a strangely comfortable silence falls as you both do your tasks, seemingly in tandem. The sound of the quill scribbling is rather nice on the ears as you put back books and sort papers into neat piles. It’s only when you’ve finally refilled his inkwell that you lean over his shoulder and take a look and whistle.

“Nice work, Captain! Now we’re getting somewhere!” You clapped him cheerily on the back without much thought, making him scoff.

“This much is nothin’, herbivore.” If you looked closer, you would’ve seen how he leant into your palm, eyes softening as his voice resembled one of looking at a lover.

–

The night sky has always been beautiful.

And as the stars twinkle above, you can hear the pirates singing their drinking songs, raucous and loud, but with whatever soul they have left in their rattling ribs. 

Your drinks were pretty popular, once they found out you could make the most killer mixes out of whatever they had in stock. Ruggie, the silver eyed weasley pirate, became your instant friend as he handed out your brews to other eager crewmates.

“Shihehehe! Think of all the profit we could make outta this! Yo, Jack, come get some of this!” The younger man staggers under the weight of his drunk senior throwing himself onto him, grunting as he looks panicked.

When you break away for some peace, you find that your intended spot was already taken.

“Come ‘ere.” You blink, half turned in resignation at finding another stargazing spot. 

“Are ya deaf? Come ‘ere.” Well, it’s not like you can turn down a command. You settle yourself down next to the lazing captain, looking up wistfully.

It’s a perfect clear sky. You wish you had your telescope with you. From here, you can see a bit of the Crux and then bits of the Centauri–

“We’re close to the ring, aren’t we?” You turn your head to observe a still Leona.

“Yes.”

A long pause.

“Why did ye agree to help me? I didn’ even hafta threaten ye all that much.”

You hum, eyes still fixated on the stars. “I could ask ya the same question of why you spared me, Captain.”

Another agonizing beat.

“I thought ya were a fool.” He shifts, shoulders popping and cracking. “All yer crewmates had the sense to run but ye just stood ya ground like ye weren’t up against the famous dread pirate Davy Jones.

I guess I can admire that kind of stupidity, ya know?” 

You remain silent, throat closing in on itself. Silence returns, but you can no longer admire the stars before.

–

The shrine is ruined, as you expected. All that remains is a half buried altar in sand and broken shells and rocks around it. 

“What the hell is this?”

“It is what you’re searching for.”

For someone to have been searching for this ring so desperately, he looks furious, enraged even. He clenches his hand around the silver tightly, hands trembling. Perhaps you should’ve been more sensitive than just plopping the trinket into his hands.

“How do I know yer not just trickin’ me with a fake?!” He roars, the cave around you echoing. Water drips from stalactites, plopping down into puddles surrounding your area. 

You gesture towards the shrine carelessly. “Give it a try. It’s what you’ve been wanting all this time right?”

Leona’s eyes widened. “What do you–” “You wanted to be free, didn’t you?” You tilt your head, annoyed. “Well, this is it. Once you do the ritual with that ring and return it to Calypso, you’ll be free of your curse. Your love.”

“No.”

Your mouth purses at the ghost’s retort.

“I want to return to her.” 

Something in you snaps.

“You left me.” It is not you speaking, but the sea. It wails and groans as the wind howls. “You do not get to choose to come back to me, not now.”

Water rises with your temper as Leona begins to comprehend what is going on. The stalactites tremble, ready to collapse under the pressure the water pounds upon the rocks. You slowly reach out your hand.

“Give me back my ring.” Your eyes glow, your mortal veil falling away like sand. This is your domain, where he left you to rot and cry out for him for many nights, until you could only pick your trembling bones up and out into the world. Stripped of your emotions, left to rage and scream at the sky, as you walked along the seafloor. For many moons, you wondered if you could ever live without him. As year by year passed, you wandered dry land to forget the aching pain in your heart.

You will make him regret ever wronging you.

“No.” Leona steps forward against the sloshing tides, now up to his knees. He bares his fangs.

“I won’t.”

“What are you doing–!? Give me–” You howl in rage as your outstretched arm is snatched and you’re wrenched into his arms, writhing in anger.

“I won’t let you go, ever again.” He whispers in your ear, and the last thing you register is the feeling of metal on your ring finger.

—

“It seems like the ship was ransacked by pirates.” The old man sighs, leaning back in his rocking chair. 

“Really?” The child at his feet frowns. “But that nice sailor told me all sorts of cool stories…”

The old man shakes his head in disapproval. “Loads of tosh. That superstitious lunatic would only fill your head with stuff of fairytales. Forget it.”

The child looks out their window into the horizon, the sunset leaving shadows on the waves crashing onto the shore. He blinks, and for a moment, he swears he sees the silhouette of a large ship in the distance.

He rubs his eyes, and when he opens them again, it’s gone.

“How strange…”

He could've sworn the flag was a skull crossbones.