#but the senior captain has been MY kid since she was a freshman

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I went by the dance team's practice today (I was invited by the coach, I'm not THAT weirdo) and when the senior captain saw me she fully burst into tears so I also cried.

I miss these kids a lot.

[sweetbans29]

Varsity Jacket - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin keep it light and playful at a game (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Is this not everyones dream?

It's the first time in the state's history of WBB that they decided to play basketball in a football stadium. A piece of history that has been led by one girl allowing thousands to benefit.

The game was chosen to be an exhibition game, a kick-off to the season, naming it the Crossover at Kinnick. They laid the Iowa WBB court within the confines of the outdoor football stadium, drawing a near 55,000 fans to be a part of the first game in Caitlin Clark's senior year. A NCAA record-breaking 55,000 fans. The first of many records Clark would break this upcoming season.

The game followed a lot of football Saturday traditions. The way the team was called out, a stadium flyover, and your favorite part - the Hawkeye Wave over to the kids in the UI Stead Family Children’s Hospital. You had done it before when your team had danced at football games and were excited to be a part of it today.

You are proud to be part of the Iowa Hawkeye dance team - have been for the past three years now. It is what brought you to IU in the first place.

Growing up dance had always been something you enjoyed. Unlike most of the other girls on the dance team, you didn't start taking dance classes until halfway through middle school. When you learned you had a natural talent for it, you started taking it more seriously. You joined your high school's dance team and decided it was something you wanted to try your hand at in college. When you auditioned going into your freshman year, you were one of two freshmen to make the team.

Since then you have captained the team for two football seasons, going into your third. Yet here you are, freezing your azz off because you forgot your damn coat.

Upon arriving at the stadium, you should have been prepared. You should have thought through how it is November in Iowa and how it is about to be winter but that doesn't cross your mind until you are shaking courtside.

"Didn't you bring a coat?" One of your teammates asks. She is currently bundled up in two jackets, ear muffs, and hand warmers.

"If I did, don't you think I would be wearing it?" You snap and immediately realize. "I'm sorry babe, I am just freezing."

You are trying to hide your shaking body and keep moving around to generate any sort of heat that you can.

A part of being on the dance team was being visible during the whole game. You weren't the cheer squad but your team had to be posted up next to them every game. It wasn't bad, it was just cold.

As halftime approached you directed your team to stretch out again, not wanting them to pull anything while dancing. You did the same, as you watched your basketball continue to do what they do best.

Once everyone was stretched, you all bunched together ready to take the court.

"I am still freezing my ass off," you say rubbing your hands together and huddle close to your friend. "I can't believe I didn't bring my freaking overcoat."

The team was coming off when someone bumped your shoulder causing you to take a few steps back.

"Hey! Watch it," you tell the 6-foot frame.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," the girl says. You pull down your skirt and smooth it over. Once you are satisfied with your outfit adjustment you look up.

'Of-freaking-course', you think to yourself as you make eye contact with none other than Caitlin Clark.

"I didn't see you there," she says, the slightest smirk peaking out.

"Very funny Clark," you say trying to hide your own smile and keep it serious.

"Oh, keeping it professional now are we?" She says. "It's cute, but you can call me Caitlin."

"That is so kind of you," you say, kind of surprised she is still there talking to you. You finish your sentence with, "Clark."

She just smiles and shakes her head. You hear the music come on and you know it's your cue. Caitlin doesn't follow the rest of the team back through the tunnel, rather stands to the side and watches you and your team take the court.

Caitlin knows she should be back with her team. More so to warm up but she couldn't nor wanted to take her eyes off you. She stood there watching you and your team keep everyone entertained during halftime. A smile resting on her lips the entire time.

She has seen you around before. How could she not, you were at practically every sports game. Caitlin would frequent the Hawkeye's football games but never really got close enough to see you perform (something she will probably never admit to you). If it wasn't seeing you in passing there, she noticed you would go and watch other sports just for fun. She has to think about it but if she remembers correctly she has seen you at both the men's and women's volleyball matches, women's soccer, and even some track and even the women's swim and dive meets.

Caitlin cheers on your team as you finish your routine and runoff, making way for the cheer squad to perform their routine next. As you make your way back you see Cait standing in the same spot she bumped you in. She is smiling at you and clapping as you make your way over. You walk up to her despite the murmurs you hear from your team, only making out your name and Caitlin's in their muffled conversations.

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere, Clark?" You ask as you cross your arms over your chest. You may have just performed a 6-minute dance routine but the chilled air was unforgiving.

"Wanted to stay out here and watch - making sure your little frozen ass doesn't fall off," she says, her eyes never leaving yours.

"The team is great," you say with a smile choosing to ignore the second part of her statement and refusing to be the first one to break eye contact.

"I wasn't watching the team," she says, that stupid smirk playing on her lips again. You could feel yourself losing this battle.

"That's a shame, they are great," you say trying to regain any part of this conversation.

"Maybe, but not as great as who I had my eyes on," she says. You blush and look away. You felt like you were being interrogated by the freaking CIA not flirting with your school's superstar.

"Okay, Clark, you win," you say as you crumble under her gaze.

She rubs the back of your arm, letting her hand linger on you. You look back up at her.

"I should get back," she says not wanting to leave you but knowing her job isn't done.

"You should," you say, agreeing for her - the first time since this conversation has started.

"Thanks for umm, thanks for watching," you say, your nerves peaking out. She nods and heads in the direction of her team.

What the hell was that? You make your way over to your team and they are all chattering about the interaction. You take your seat next to your co-captain who is just looking at you.

You keep your head forward still processing it all. Caitlin Clark was just talking to you. Not only that, but she waited and watched you perform then proceeded to flirt with you about it. Her hand was on your arm. You were thankful it wasn't skin-to-skin contact because you probably would have never let her walk away. She was teasing you.

You are too caught up in your own thoughts to see when someone had walked up to you. Your co-cap tapping your leg and nodding at the woman who was standing in front of you.

"Oh hi," you say and stand.

"I was told to bring this over to you," she says holding something, you look down and it's a jacket.

"Oh thank you," you say grabbing it.

"She wanted me to say it is from Caitlin," she says, emphasizing the name. "Told me I had to emphasize the name."

The woman walks away and you unfold the jacket to see 'CLARK' on the back right above the number 22. This girl is not serious right now. If you were under any other circumstance, you would not be putting it on but since the only time you have stopped shaking was while you were performing you decide to put the jacket on.

If your team was whispering about your interaction with Caitlin before, they are shouting from the rooftops now.

The basketball team comes back out and you find yourself looking for a particular someone. To your delight, she is making her way over to you.

"You got it, good," she says, wrapped in an Iowa jacket of her own.

"You didn't need to do this," you say but make no move to try and hand it back to her. It has been the warmest you have been the whole game. She lets out a little laugh.

"Sure, says the one who was shaking like a chihuahua," she says taking in the sight of you in her clothing. She could get used to this.

"I appreciate it, Clark," you say and she groans.

"Caitlin," she says.

"Clark," you retort.

"Cait," she responds.

"Clark," you are not giving in.

"CC, Caity, C - anything but Clark," she says frustrated.

"Why does it bother you so much that I call you by your last name?" You ask now the one who has the slight edge in the conversation.

"Clark, get your butt over here," one of her coaches yells at her.

"That's why," she mumbles and gives you one last look before running back over to the team.

"Get it Clark!" You yell after her, earning some whistles and shouts from your team.

You're thankful it is still cold out because the redness on your cheeks can easily be taken as cold, hiding your blush.

Your team doesn't shut up about the fact that you had talked to Caitlin but she gave her varsity jacket to you to wear. All the girls were staring at you and taking in the sight of the player's jacket.

A ball gets swatted out of bounds and you catch it before it can hit anyone on your team. Caitlin sees where it goes and books it to grab it from you.

Here is the thing about Caitlin, she is the last person to go and catch a ball that has been hit out of bounds. Her whole team was aware of this. So it is to everyone's surprise when she is the first one to hustle after the ball when the whistle is blown.

You hold up the ball for her.

"Careful there Clark, could have hurt someone," you say.

She laughs, "Ya right."

"Since when are you the first one to run after a loose ball," you say exposing that you may have watched her more than a few times. Could anyone blame you? Caitlin has been drawing the attention of the whole nation.

"Didn't want to miss the opportunity to come talk to the pretty girl," she says with that damn smirk.

"You are too kind Clark," you say faking flattery.

"Oh, I was talking about the girl next to you," she says teasing you.

You sit there speechless as Caitlin finally takes the ball.

"I'm kidding, but you should see the look on your face. It's priceless," she says winking at you before heading back over to inbound the ball.

'Oh it is on Clark' you think as you watch them finish up the last quarter.

Caitlin, of course, plays amazing. She finishes the game off with her first triple-double of the season. You watch as she celebrates with her team - all of who were excited to start the season on a high note. You are celebrating with your team when they all go quite in front of you and stare at something behind you. You turn around before Caitlin can tap your shoulder.

"Ahh, so we meet again," you say with a smile. "Well done Clark."

"Okay, enough with the Clark. You are wearing my jacket for goodness sake," she says and shakes her head.

"Oh, ya, thank you for this," you say and begin to take it off. She stops you by putting her hand on your arm - the second time today you note.

"Hold on to it, if you take it off now you will start shaking again and I don't really care to see you looking like a little chihuahua," she says and scratches the back of her neck. You raise your eyebrow at her. If you don't give her the jacket back now, that means you will need to see her again to return it.

"And who exactly am I supposed to get this back to you?" You ask.

"Well that is actually why I came over here," she says and you can tell she is a little more nervous than she had been before. You don't notice but both of your teams are watching the interaction between you.

"Okay," you say encouraging her to continue.

"How would you feel about going out with me this weekend?" Caitlin says as she has to mentally remind herself to keep her breathing steady and to not rush her words.

"I don't know..." you start. "I was thinking I could just have someone swing the jacket by one of your practices."

Caitlin's face looks mortified and you immediately bring your hand up to hers to ease her, your joke being taken a little too serious.

"I'm kidding Clark," you say and give her hand a squeeze. "I would love to go out with you this weekend."

She smiles widely.

"Great," she says. "I'll text you details," she begins walking backward.

"And how are you going to do that without my number?" You say as she is now just out of reach.

"You're cute," she says, now back in control of the conversation. "I've had your number for a while, now I just get to use it."

You stare at her, mouth agape. You don't know how to get the last word in so she does.

"Talk to you soon babe!" Caitlin says and runs back towards her team.

AN: This was a cutie. Hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

[disregardcanon]

i went and put the cast of amc iwtv with the vampire in a yellowjackets inspired au

The year is 1996 in New Orleans. Louis de Pointe du Lac doesn’t really LIKE football, but his dad always insisted that he play as the only son who… was capable. Now, with the way his family’s been hemorrhaging money with his father’s death, the recent worsening of his brother’s mental illness, his older sister’s recent marriage and his younger sister (read: Claudia) still needing to be provided for… he’s not got a lot of options. 

He’s a very gifted student academically, but he won’t be able to go to the sort of school he wants to in order to make the kind of MONEY he wants to on the virtue of his grades. So he keeps up with football, even though he kind of hates it and his father, because he wants to get a scholarship out of it. 

He’s good at it, but not quite that good. And he needs to GET GOOD very soon if he wants to get a scholarship and drag his family out of dire financial straits as they keep sending him and Claudia to the fancy prep school and pretending they’re not nearly broke. He’s already a sophomore. If he’s not up to snuff by junior year he’s not going to get a scholarship. Period. 

He needs some kind of leg up in this situation. The coach suggests that he join the dance team during the spring semester to improve his footwork. His mother hates the idea because she knows he’s gay and knows that putting him around all the openly gay guys on the dance team is not going to Turn Him Straight, but she can’t pitch much of a fuss about him becoming a better football player. 

Louis has to audition for the dance team because it’s very competitive, but Lestat who’s the popular senior captain takes an immediate interest in him and offers to help him perfect his routine. (they flirt and they fuck and it is Sublime ™) Louis makes the team! Becomes an essential member and glued to Lestat’s hip. (They’re the Shauna and Jackie teehee) 

Other members include: Armand, who did all the work necessary to be captain and according to him and some of the others SHOULD HAVE BEEN! He is Lestat’s ex and is very upset that Lestat got the captainship instead. He talks to Louis and they’ve built up a bond and understanding but it’s very much Unknown ™ to Lestat. (He’s Tai… also kinda lottie) 

Daniel mainly does the school paper but he knows that the dance team is going to be very very good this year, so he offered to be the equipment manager because 1. That gives him the inside scoop 2. Gets to go somewhere that the other gays are and not have to totally commit to it 3. The dance team at my high school was a very easy place for kids to get drugs so… that would also be an incentive for daniel 4…. Sub reasons. He thinks Lestat is the biggest drama queen he’s ever met, isn’t a big fan of armand but is team he Would Have Been a Better Captain Because He Has Some Kind of Restraint, and is who louis always comes to when he needs to bitch about lestat. They are BESTIES! He doesn’t slot easily into anyone’s role, so he gets Misty’s job, Natalie’s drug problem, and Van’s love interest status. 

Santiago wants the solos and he wants to be adored by the group but since lestat and armand have a deep complicated Love Hate Exes situation, they will always choose each other and/or louis over him. They’ve already come to an agreement that when lestat and armand graduate next year louis becomes the captain, how is that fair? Santiago’s been here longer he’s more talented he’s more popular with people that aren’t lestat armand or daniel!?!?! He’s planning a coup and all his underlings are down for it. 

Madeline is a freshman that is not at all impressed by the bullshit going on with these boys. She just wants to dance and they’re getting all…. Personal about it. 

They do so well that the team gets to go to nationals. Lestat and Armand’s families go in halvies (so that neither family gets full bragging rights) to charter a plane for them and the coaches, and Florence du pointe du lac is like NO LOUIS YOU ARE NOT GOING ON A PRIVATE PLANE WITH ALL THOSE QUEERS AND NO REAL CHAPERONES! So she… invites herself, Paul, and Claudia. She’d make Grace and her husband come too if Grace didn’t put her foot down about it. 

The rest of the poor dancers aren’t thrilled about Louis’s homophobic mother, prospective seminarian brother, and baby sister (6th grade) joining them on their almost unchaperoned trip, but… Florence de pointe du lac is not someone who can be talked out of something, and the team needs Louis at this point. He’s an integral part of the team. 

Mama de pointe du lac dies in the crash along with the flight crew, the pilot, and the two coaches. It is now Gay Anarchy with a 12 year old girl and a very mentally ill 19 year old who wants to become a priest. 

Things that happen: 

Louis trying to keep his relationship with Lestat a secret from his siblings, which… is not going over well with Lestat, who thinks he’s being set on fire when things aren’t entirely about him. Lestat is not contributing much beyond Being Charming and Being a Bitch (jackie taylor core motherfucker). Paul is not contributing because he is busy being Catholic and Homophobic. Claudia is trying very hard to contribute but Louis won’t let her because he thinks it would be wrong to make his baby sister do this stuff and no one else wants to deal with her. She finally gets Madeline, who’s the second youngest here, let her help do stuff and Madeline’s actually impressed by how good the company and the help is. 

Daniel is journaling everything that might be interesting down the line. Armand is experiencing Visions. Are they the same as Paul’s visions? Mayyybbeeee! You’re not finding out from either me or the narrative. 

Cue cabin, cue seance, cue Paul having a fit about how Against God all of it is and going off on everyone, but specifically Lestat and Louis by association. The team is currently Santiago and his cronies, Armand, Daniel, Claudeline, and then the ever changing beast that is loustat vs paul or the de pointe du lac brothers vs lestat. 

After the seance, Paul starts getting visions from what he thinks is god. He takes some water from the lake to bless for himself and takes to praying for hours and hours and hours instead of Contributing To The Group and louis tries to pry him out of it and lestat languishes in jealous-angry-grief as santiago and armand compete for control of the masses, daniel watches, and claudeline just. Vibe. Are they girlfriends? Are they besties? No one knows. No one cares, because louis has some attention to spare for his boyfriend and some to spare for his brother and none for anyone else. 

PAUL IS GONNA FLY THAT PLANE! God told him to. Louis thinks it’s a catastrophically bad idea, Lestat thinks it’s a great idea, and Armand backs him up. Lestat wants Paul gone and wants a chance to go home, so obviously this is a good move for him. Armand thought that they needed to do something to try to fix things for a very long time, but he didn’t want to go out on a limb about it and risk Santiago’s guys Mutinying About It. And, well… he had a Vision ™ about it. That’s not a normal thing that he can just… say. 

Paul dies. Armand tries to grab for him before it becomes clear that he’s going to die, and Daniel becomes very interested in what’s up there. Louis becomes very, very distraught, to the point where he’s barely doing anything and seems like he might just… off himself. This is awful for claudia, who just lost one big brother and now is losing another… and it’s intensely distressing for lestat and armand, the romantic rivals, and daniel, who hasn’t been talking to much of anyone during this shitshow but knows that 1. Louis was his friend at one point 2. Armand has something weird and spooky going on 3. Santiago is trying to take over and he doesn’t trust santiago as far as he can throw him. 

Team “Get Louis Not to Kill Himself” is formed. 

In the aftermath of Paul’s failed plan to save them, Santiago is trying to wrest control of the group from Lestat, Armand is working through some visions that he hasn’t made up his mind on being good or bad yet, Louis is being despondent, claudeline are vibing on mushrooms, and Lestat is trying desperately to figure out SOMETHING that would make this suck less.

a party, right? a party would make this better. a party! lestat is going to plan the world's greatest party to celebrate this doomsday. santiago tries to sabotage it by sneaking mushrooms in and getting everyone loopy. like hell yeah if i make everyone lose trust in lestat surely iiiii will be the leader. yes this is a Good Plan.

louis doesn't eat any of the soup because he's suicidal. lestat doesn't eat any of the soup because he ate earlier and damn it he is going to PARTY! he tries so hard to drag louis out to the dancefloor and then to get him to at least go back and snuggle together but to No Avail. louis wants to be at the party with his nose in his journal writing and being Angsty About It. lestat needs attention and is Very Horny and Very Sad and Very Lonely and is trying to get someone, anyone to Pretend to Like Him For the Night. but everyone else except louis and santiago are high off their asses. armand is leading Lottie Adventures in Hallucination Theory and daniel is hallucinating him s the hottest devil-angel that's ever existed. this is not going to have any ramifications whatsoever.

lestat figures out that santiago drugged everyone and is upset but mainly is lonely because louisssss will not! hang out with him! and he's like fine you hate me you hate that everyone likes me. clearly no one likes me enough right now. will you have angry sex with me? show how deeply unwanted i am?

and yeah they have awful sex that Super High Prophet Armand breaks up because neither of them matters anymore. santiago's the one that gets SA'ed because lestat has to have Ultimate Jackie Vibes and then they try to sacrifice him before louis's coming back with his book and claudeline who are still high off their asses like what the fuck happened? i went to go get my sister and her high-ass girlfriend and you guys are doin what? human sacrifice?

lestat what the hell's going on?

oh well i was just minding my business having revenge sex with santiago-

and that makes him persona non grata with louis for the next however many days. armand's doing Forest Cult Shit because the mushrooms assured him that his visions are Real and then he was able to lottie kill the bear and daniel's like you know what? yeah. this might be true. i'm gonna work with it.

and lestat is very angry because louis won't talk to him because he had revenge sex with santiago but he's very clearly okay with armand HUMAN SACRIFICE VISIONS MAN! they're chilling! that's cool! so lestat refuses to thank the forest for the bear and he gets into a big fight with louis about louis not loving him and louis's like you know what? i don't.

"i'm not coming back until you apologize, louis! you will BEG for my company!"

"LIKE HELL I WILL!" and lestat spends the night out in the freezing cold and the snow where he dies. louis talks to his corpse a lot. claudia is worried and keeps trying to bring him back but she spends a lot of time just doing goofy shit with madeline when she can't get her brother to act like a person.

it takes a long time before they're Ready to Eat Lestat but they do and louis feels awful in a way that no one else does and he, of course, starts seeing dreamstat everywhere instead of just with lestat's corpse.

santiago is plotting coup things still, claudia is becoming so frustrated with louis that she is NOT ENOUGH to keep him grounded in this reality without lestat and that he's letting these moral scruples about eating his boyfriend drag him down when their mom and brother are already dead, and armand is trying to figure out something to keep louis alive and santiago out of power.

daniel isn't exactly a full fledged wilderness believer... but he's seen enough that he thinks it's worth paying lip service to. despite everything, he trusts armand. and they're having weird psychosexual adventures while everyone else is doing other stuff and trying to figure out how to get louis to Stay Alive. armand might not be wilderness jesus but like... he's daniel's own PERSONAL jesus and he's keeping them fed so that'll have to do.

armand's lottie powers are keeping birds raining down from the heavens while santiago tries to figure out how to wrest control of the group away from him. but louis is a sad sack in the corner, claudeline is off doing their own thng, and whenever santiago does anything daniel points out everything that's wrong about it. but oh no, armand is FIIINNNEEE! he's great! somehow mr. skeptic believes this guy is PSYCHIC and can TALK TO THE FOREST! he used to be doubtful of everything but now he's wilderness prophet's right hand man.

there's a confrontation on a cliff side where santiago tries to get daniel to admit that he doesn't believe this bullshit and is just going along with it because he hates santiago and wants to fuck armand's crazy ass. and santiago's like i am going to destroy you if you don't come clean about not believing this guy's bullshit to everyone. I AM THE ONLY ONE FIT TO LEAD HERE! and daniel's like what the fuck man? we've been out here six fucking months and this is what you're worried about? get a fucking grip- an altercation. some shouting. some more threats, and then daniel molloy pushes a man off a cliff.

he goes to armand terrified about what he should do... but armand assures him it'll be okay. the body is already gone. that's probably worse once the wilderness stops providing... but at least they don't have to admit to what happened to santiago.

the weeks go by and they starve and starve and starve.

when they finally resort to a card draw, it lands on louis. they should have rigged it, but they didn't think to. and louis is suicidal enough that he's going to let it happen even though there are lots of people dead set on it NOT happening. madeline makes meaningful eye contact and does a tackle so that claudia can drag her brother off to save him. but he's just... so out of it. he does not want to be here. he does not want to be alive without paul and lestat and-

claudia falls through the ice to the water and he's dragged out of it, desperately trying to get into the water. armand stops him, of course. "it's you or her" and "she's already half-dead" and "what would we do without you?" and "would lestat want you dead, you ate him for this?" and then the splashing stops. daniel finally catches up to them with his hunting party and he can't help but feel relieved that it wasn't his friend. it wasn't louis. "the wilderness chose" but i agree with it.

when they get claudia's body back, madeline sobs out her body weight and clutches her body for hours. and then they come to take the body away and she knows that she won't live through it if she tries to fight back, but she does. because this is madeline, who will always chose claudia over anything.

so they have a body to prepare immediately and one to dry and save for later. enough to make it through the winter. louis hates himself, but he takes that first bite yet again. because no matter how much he hates himself and wants to be dead, it won't bring back paul or lestat or his baby sister. eating her won't bring her back but it won't kill her again.

then armand, in a stroke of great Armand-ing, declares louis the antler king. (take this burden off my shoulders, maitre, don't hate me, don't leave me, save us save us SAVE US) and everyone who's left is willing enough to accept that.

the three that are still alive that still matter make it to the end: our dubai trio and their bunch of ghosts. and they'll keep living with it because they always have.

[ddosie]

# 2 and soobin for the prompt please!

you wouldn't say you were the sentimental type.

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

it was a problem that you had only read about in story books. the handmaiden watches the price she fell in love with get married. she moves on. the king lets go of the memories of his favorite knight. he moves on. the queen loses her son, her only son. she moved on.

they all moved on. so why couldn't you?

"class! class! let's start this school year by introducing ourselves! i'll go first. my name is ms. hilton, and i'm your english teacher for this year! i've worked at this school for a long time now, and i can't wait to teach all of you kids!

okay, now that i've done my introduction, shall we go along the classroom and introduce ourselves? starting from you sir, yes you with the white and black sneakers. please start by telling us your name and a fun fact about yourself."

you watched as the said boy stood up, pushing his hair back with his hand.

"uh... hi everyone, i'm soobin, and one fun fact about me is i went to Europe this year."

as the next person got up to introduce themselves, you found yourself staring at him.

jeez, he was tall for a middle schooler.

the sun is filtering through the blinds in your room, and rays of light are being painted across the walls. everything is a golden color, from the desk to the bedside.

"so... what topic are we choosing for this project?" you watched through the lens of your glasses as soobin furrowed his brow.

"do you think, maybe aristotle?" you nodded your head eagerly, so soobin stood up and walked over to the teachers desk. a second later he sent you a thumbs up.

"aristotle it is."

you twirled your pen in your fingers as soobin took a seat. "hey do you want to work on the project with me over the weekend? i know a really good café...?"

there was a small smile on your face, and you nodded.

"yeah sure, what time?"

you got up from your chair, grabbing a camera. in this lighting, the room was just too pretty to not take a picture of.

"y/n, for someone of that height, there is no reason you should be walking that fast."

you sent a small smile to the long-legged boy trying to catch up with you in the hallway.

"if you don't want to be late to class bin, you're going to have to put those legs to work."

you let soobin catch up with you, and you slowed down your pace from thereon so the two of you could walk side by side. soobin pointed at the trophy shelf.

"do you think we'll win this year too? i hope we do, yeonjun promised a party at his house if we get placed first."

you gave soobin a reassuring pat on his arm.

"you'll be finneee... if you win, i'll take you out to icecream after."

the boy turned to look at you, a smile creeping into his eyes.

"really?"

"really."

fiddling around with the camera, you brushed the light dust that had collected on the top off. you watched as the particles were swept away, dancing in the dying sunlight.

"we should do this every year."

you turned to look at soobin lying next to you, ice-cream sandwhich in one hand, while the other was tucked behind him, supporting his head. he was looking above, admiring the night sky.

"you mean climb some random apartment stairs to get to rooftops? and risk our lives every season game to see a different view of the city at night?"

soobin let out a small laugh. "yeah, well when you put it that way, it does sound bad." you smiled, lying down with your own ice-cream sandwich, propping an arm under your head.

"...i meant the icecream tradition. you'll be there for my next season game, right?"

now it was your turn to admire the night sky.

"of course. i wouldn't miss it for the world"

grabbing a tissue, you went to work at the camera, cleaning dust from all crevices and corners of the lenses. you were surprised. when was the last time you had even taken a photo on this thing?

"hey bin, what's up?"

grabbing your phone and placing it on your desk, you made yourself comfortable, ready for any facetime tea he would spill.

"ah, y/n..." you watched as he ran a hand through his hair from the other side of the screen. "i don't think... i don't think i'll be able to make it to your birthday this year."

there was a quiet silence. you felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"if i can ask, um, why?" you fiddled with the hem of your hoodie, waiting for an answer.

"the schedules for the basketball game lineups just came out, and the final season game is happening on your birthday. i just wanted to tell you in case we do win that far and i won't be able to come."

you decided to smile at the way soobin had said just in case they win. the two of you were in your sophomore year, and he hadn't lost a game since middle school.

"yeah, don't worry about it soob. we can still get icecream after."

you felt a turn in your stomach when the boy gave you a relived smile, running a hand through his hair again.

"that's all i wanted to say, i've got to go now"

"hm? why?"

"chem tutoring. these freshman are horrible at science."

adjusting the camera, you zoomed in on random objects in your room. the bookshelf. your water bottle. the lamp. click. click. click.

“did you hear? that senior yeonjun will be throwing a bigger party than last year! are you going y/n?”

you shrugged. “when is it?”

“I think it‘ll be this saturday.”

"can’t. I’ll be out of town”

"for what?

“college. I sent an early application, and one of them reached out and wants me to tour the campus. if i go, I’ll have a guaranteed spot next year, and I probably won’t have to apply to any others.”

your friend let out a low whistle and patted your head.

"well when you put it like that, I guess you really can’t go… but maybe we could get something after the game? i heard the ice cream place was still open”

just like that, a mere sentence felt like a silent punch to the gut.

you looked away from your friends face, scanning the cafeteria unknowingly. you were met with the view of a senior tussling soobin's hair, an arm slung across his neck. you could hear their loud conversation even from where you were sitting.

"you coming to my house after the game? me and the guys we're planning to get some icecream and stay over at my house for the night."

you thought you saw something flash in soobins eye's before he smiled, nodding in agreement.

abruptly standing up, you tossed an apology to your friend about how you wouldn't be able to make it and you had just remembered you had some important emails to send. you didn't want to be around when the words of confirmation came out of his mouth itself.

so much for a flash. the last time you had icecream with him was two years ago.

adjusting the lens once more, you caught your eye on a ticket stuck between two books on your desk. you slowly pulled it out. it was blue and grey, your school colors. there was a hole punched on the bottom, indicating it was used.

"and it's the last two minutes of the game, and hybe high is in the lead! if they can make this basket, it will guarantee a regional win for the school. oh! there goes hyunjin... passing to donghyuck who... also just passed to eric who, jeez, passed to soobin...! look at that! look at that!! we are in the last minute everyone, and if captain of hybe high makes this basket, like i said they will be the regional winners!!"

you let the sound of the announcer wash over you, leaning forward in your seat to watch the game.

for some reason you kept coming back. to this gym. to the basketball games.

to soobin.

it had been over a year since the two of you had really talked, the last icecream run being well over three years ago (a promise to go before your birthday was conveniently broken), and the last facetime was to ask for calculus answers.

you knew that you had faded out of the life of the star basketball player.

you just couldn't accept it.

"and soobin gets closer to the rim... oh! it looks like taehyun from bighit acadmy is a pretty good blocker... anyways look at him go! we have twenty second left, and even if he doesn't score hybe is still in for a win... okay, okAY?? WAIT WHAT!! WHAT!!"

there's a loud screech of the intercom that mixes with the cheers of the crowd. you found yourself on your feet, fists pumping in the air in celebration alongside the students in the bleachers despite yourself.

"AND CHOI SOOBIN SECURES THE PLACE OF HYBE HIGH IN DISTRICT REGIONALS!! ONCE AGAIN THE ACE HAS TOPPED EVERYONE AND BRANG HIS TEAM TO VICTORY!!"

you held the ticket tenderly. on the backside was stamped senior, a marker that counted as a discount for the upperclassmen that wanted to watch the game. flipping it over again, you felt a wave of something hit your stomach as you took in the grey and blue.

"hey y/n, wait up!"

you whipped around at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

there, stood soobin, in all his six foot and one inch glory.

"you.." he panted, hands on his knees as if he had run a million miles. "you walk too fast. what's the rush? you were cheering for me so loudly."

there was that feeling again. of being punched in the gut. by that invisible hand that seemed to favor your stomach whenever soobin was around.

"ah, you know... just getting home."

you tried not to stare too long. soobin had grown, matured. the baby face he donned as a middle schooler was gone, only his dimples a reminder of the childhood smiles you shared together.

"you're not... going anywhere? going straight home?"

you gave him a small smile. "...yeah. i'm going soon, so i really need to pack. good game though! you really did good this time around."

"going soon... to where y/n? are you taking a road trip without me?" you sensed a wary tone under his teasing words. three years apart, and this was the news you would have to tell him. curse the fates.

"yup! im, ah... moving cross country. i got accepted a while back."

you could already see the question in his eyes. how far? which major? on campus or near?

why didn't you tell me?

there was a moment of silence while you rocked back and forth on your heels. soobin pushed his hair back, looking into your eyes.

the heaviness of a thousand unanswered questions weighed in the air.

"so... want to catch up over icecream?"

as you held the basketball ticket from senior year, you realized three things.

one: you were the sentimental type. you clung onto old memories and good times like they were life jackets, keeping you afloat in the mundanity of your new life.

two: you didn't really like the idea of always moving on. it seemed so easy in the story books, that after a couple years the queen goes back to her ordinary life, the king appoints a new knight, and the princess finds someone she truly loved. but was there a time where you would just stop caring? was there a day you would wake up and didn’t think about what could have happened, the if only’s and what if’s?

three: you couldn't move on. you prided yourself on being able to move faster, walking a pace before everyone else. life was a journey, and you were going places. quite literally. you were floating when everyone was sinking.

but you were only floating because you had your life jacket.

...

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you clutched the ticket in your hand, the end slightly wrinkled by your fingers.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

[reignstormz]

| Lion & The Lamb |

INTRO; After hiding your secret crush on the hottest guy in school since freshman year, senior comes around and you finally come face to face with the Samoan, sharing an intimate moment together.

WORD COUNT; 2,300 (maybe, not sure, had some issues, pretty short)

WARNINGS; Takes place in 1984, Bullying, Sweet interactions.

CAST; Y/N ( Yourself) Y/B/F/ N ( Your best friend's name) Roman, Jey, Jimmy, Naomi, and Galina Anoa'i. (Just a story, not saying Galina is anything like her character in this fic)

MINI PLAYLIST; Give Me Your Love - Pebbles/ Two Occasions - The Deele / Ready Or Not - After 7 / Rock With You - Michael Jackson / Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

🦋

NOVEMBER 9th, 1984

The sounds of teenage laughter filled your ears as you sat in the passengers seat of your best friend's car. You sighed, trying the best you could to block out the noise as you read your book that was sitting in your lap. It was a hectic, busy Friday night. Your school's football team had just won yet another game and everyone was at the Drive In Movie Theatre to celebrate, goof around, or get down to business. Typical things that high school students would be up to. You on the other hand, didn't go to the game and was only here because your best friend practically dragged you out of the house.

You were not so big into the normal teenage, high school experiences. You were very quiet, antisocial, and didn't have many friends. School dances weren't your thing, especially parties. Instead, your way of having fun was just keeping yourself company. You were one of the smartest, if not, the smartest girl in school; You were a straight-A student, and you loved to read. Reading brought you joy and gave you the opportunity to escape to a different reality. Many people labeled you as nerdy, but you could care less.

You were over people picking on you, and judging you, which was one of the biggest reasons why you were so reserved. You got bullied heavily up to 4th grade, and your parents decide to homeschool you until high school came around. They wanted things to turn around for you, but it was the exact same. The only difference was, you made one solid friend and you ate school lunch, something other than food from your refrigerator.

Currently, the theatre was going to show Prince's "Purple Rain" and you were in the car waiting for it to start with your best friend. She also happened to be a cheerleader. You met her in PE class, one joke led after another and you guys became very tight. You were kind of surprised that you two were friends since you were so opposite from each other, and from different crowds.

Y/B/F/N's turned her head to look at you. She sighed, rolling her eyes briefly before she snatched your book out of your grasp. You groaned with irritation, and turned as well to make eye contact with her, "Can you stop? You made me lose my place."

"Can you just have fun for once? Girl. We're at the movies and the first thing you want to do is shove your nose into a book." She shades, throwing your book into the backseat.

"I didn't want to come tonight." You stress to her, "I have studying and homework I need to do-"

"That's all you ever do." She cuts you off. "Come on, you've known how long I've wanted to see this movie. Just do this one thing for me, please?"

"So you want me to sit in a car for an hour?" You questioned. A smile slowly creeped onto her face, which quickly answered your question.

You sighed, unbuckling your seatbelt to get out of the car. She furrowed her eyebrows, "Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm getting snacks." You replied, and before you got out of the car she grabbed onto your wrist.

"Can you get some popcorn? Please?" She asked, with clear as day begging look on her face. You rolled your eyes and got out of the car before she asked for candy as well. Any ounce of candy in her system was a not an option, especially since she had to still take you home tonight. As you walked to the concession stand, you saw just about every single familiar face from school. You were so focused on not making eye contact with anyone that you accidentally bumped into another person in front of you, causing their drink to spill all over your white long sleeved shirt. A couple people who were walking by giggled and the girl you bumped into couldn't of been worse.

"Even those ridiculous glasses you wear still can't help you watch where you're going." Galina dissed, looking you up and down before pushing past your shoulder. Her best friend, Naomi, looked at you apologetically for a second before following behind her. You sighed, looking down at your ruined shirt and turned your head, glaring at her. You saw Galina and Naomi walk back to their car, where the the most popular guys in school happened to be. The twins, Jimmy and Jey Uso, were sitting in the trunk of the car while the guy you've had the biggest crush on for the longest was leaning against it.

Roman Reigns was by far the hottest guy you've ever laid eyes on. He was the captain of the football team, he was smart, and also very kind as well believe it or not. You've only talked to him once, and that was when your chemistry teacher paired you two up for a project not too long ago. Roman was nothing but sweet to you, but since you were extremely shy and quiet, you barely said a word to him the entire time. Not only that, you didn't want any rumors to get out that you liked him. You would get teased nonstop, and Galina, who happened to be his girlfriend, would go out of her way to publicly humiliate you. However, it was nothing new. She was the typical mean girl that everyone was afraid of; You, well you weren't afraid of her really, you just didn't have the energy to deal with her bullshit so you always held your tongue.

"What happened to my fruit punch?" You heard Jey ask Galina. She sighed, wrapping her arm around Roman's waist while he looked down at her.

"Some nerd bumped into me and got it everywhere." She replies, and Roman raised his eyebrow.

"What nerd?" He says. Galina nods towards you. Before you and Roman made eye contact, you quickly turned back around and hurried to the bathroom to try to clean yourself up. This night couldn't get anymore embarassing, you thought.

You stared at yourself in the mirror with a lost expression. There was no way you were going to get this stain out of your shirt. You heavily sighed, adjusting your slightly crooked glasses. As you let a hand fall from your nose to your chin in stress, a strand of your sleeve ended up getting caught on a piece of your braces.

You rolled your eyes, groaning. You hated wearing braces for a million reasons, but this was the main reason why you couldn't wait to get them off soon. They got caught into everything. You tried again and again to get the strand to untangle itself but it wasn't budging. Shit, you thought. Now you had no choice but to go back to the car so your friend could help you. So many things were going wrong tonight and all you wanted to do was just go home at this point.

You took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. As you turned the corner, you almost ran into someone else for the second time. You sighed, closing your eyes for a second before looking down.

"I'm sorry." You apologized, sounding a little funny since the strand was still stuck on your braces.

"Damn, you need some help with that?" An attractive voice said, that you immediately recognized. Fuck, you cursed in your head. You slowly looked up and saw the tall Samoan tower over you with a concerned look on his face. You nervously started to tap your foot and your heart began to beat very fast.

His facial expression turned into an amused one and he gently took the strand out of your hand to help you get it loose, "I'll take that as a yes."

Within a minute, he got the strand loose from your braces and you were finally able to rest your arm by your side. You shyly pulled your sleeve shirt down, "Thanks.."

He nodded with a faint smile on his face. Little did you know, Roman always had a thing for you as well. He knew you as the quiet girl in class, ever since freshman year. It was now senior year and you haven't changed a bit. You guys were in classes together but never spoke before, or even sat together until one project. He admired the fact that you were different; Girls threw themselves at him all the time, which made you think that you could never stand a chance but you were wrong. He loved the fact that you were extremely smart and had a head on your shoulders. You had a unique type of beauty that he adored; The glasses, braces, the infectious laugh and the shyness. Roman deep down has a weak spot for the nerdy girls, even though no one knows about that at all. People assume all the time of what his type is or who he was as a person, when really no one knew who he truly was. The only people that knew him best were his family, and Galina at one point but as time went on Roman wasn't happy with the person she's become.

Galina was practically Roman's day one, they've known each other since they were kids through a family friend. She was never like this intimidating, rude person that she was now. Galina actually use to be very sweet, but ever since high school came around and she started hanging out with certain crowds, that's when the popularity really went to her head. Even though it made Roman sad at times that she wasn't the same person she used to be, he was not afraid to let her know how he felt about it. She promised him she'd change, but she's so far gone that it's out of control. You can't make people change, they have to do that on their own and if not, it's time to let them go. Roman thought about doing that many times, but he just didn't want to hurt her, especially with the history they had. It was just hard all around, and you made it even more tough for him.

"Whatchu' doin here all alone?" Roman asks curiously, then looked down at your shirt subtly. He saw a huge red stain and his mind went back to Galina saying she spilled her fruit punch on someone. He couldn't really make out your face since you walked away so fast, but now he figured out that you were the person that she might of spilled it on. Shit, he cursed in his head. Roman felt very guilty.

You noticed that he looked down at your shirt, causing you to slightly cover yourself from embarrassment. Chuckling nervously, you say "Oh, um. I accidentally spilled my drink everywhere..so I came here to clean it up."

He knew that you were lying since he was aware of what happened, but he didn't push it. He's noticed a lot of people cover Galina's ass so they don't get on her bad side. Roman nodded, looking down and unzipped his black jacket that was apart of his track suit, "I got sum' for you then."

"No no that's okay," You kindly reject. You look behind him to see if anyone walks in on the two of you and your heart starts to race. Lord knows that no one can see you in his jacket. Especially Galina, if so, everyone would be on your ass. You didn't feel like dealing with that drama.

Once he took the jacket fully off, your eyes went directly to his arms. Damn, his biceps were huge. You were completely glued to them until Roman jokes out of the blue, "You know, if you wanna' feel them you can just ask."

You snapped out of it and you covered your face, trying to hold back a laugh while blushing. You looked back up at him with a smile on your face, "That's hands down the corniest thing you've ever said to me."

"At least it made you laugh." Roman says with a small smile on his face. You admire his gorgeous smile while you had one of your own, gently grabbing the jacket out of his hands. You couldn't help but take it after that. This reminded you of all the times Roman would crack the dumbest jokes in class just to get you to smile, since you were so quiet and rarely talked to him. It went over your head that he only did it to impress you.

"I should probably back to my friend before she freaks out." You say shyly, thanking him for the jacket before getting ready to leave. Roman didn't want you to leave since he was enjoying this moment alone he had with you, so he thought fast and quickly stood in front of you. Real smooth, Roman.

You looked at him weirdly and Roman's face turned red. He was going to say something but he completely forgot his train of thought, making you want to laugh. The look on his face was priceless. The both of you grinned at each other before you fell out laughing.

"Don't look at me like that, girl.." Roman said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck while you giggled.

"I'm sorry, but you should've seen the look on your face." You pointed towards his face, not being able to contain your laughter, making him laugh even harder. He had the cutest laugh, you could listen to it all day. Once you guys both pulled it together, you both stared at each other in a comfortable silence before he asked, "Do you mind if I can buy you some popcorn or something?"

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that Roman-"

"Don't worry bout' it, come on." He chuckles, nodding towards the exit. You smiled at him, secretly loving every second of this. Never in a million years you would've thought a crush of yours would go out of his way to do this for you. Roman was such a good guy; You were having such a bad night before and he instantly made it better.

You both walked out of door and to the concession stand. The entire time, you guys stood there goofing off and talking while you waited in line. As you guys were occupied in a conversation, you noticed that you were getting a couple of suspicious looks since you were wearing Roman's jacket. However, no one dared to mess with you or give you slick comments either since they were shocked that you happened to be friends with him. Roman wouldn't hesitate to defend you if they did anyway in a heartbeat, but they knew better. You've seen Roman on multiple occasions stick up for people who got picked on at school, and it made your heart beat even harder for him. If there was a way you could just tell him how you felt, you would, but there was just no way in hell that was possible.

"Thanks, Roman. Even though I really don't need all of these snacks-" You giggled softly, looking down at the bag of snacks he had gotten you. Even though you couldn't never complain about snacks.

"Shh." He joked, cutting you off and took the opportunity to sneak cotton candy in your mouth so you'd stop talking, making you laugh. Roman smirked, taking his thumb and wiped off your bottom lip a little bit.

A frog got caught in your throat again as he flirtatiously wiped your lip. You both gazed into each other's eyes for what it seemed like forever until you both heard the movie start. You cleared your throat, and from behind him you saw Galina, Naomi and the Usos stare at you while they were still at the car. The Usos looked at each other with dumbfounded look on their face, like they wanted to laugh but they knew Galina would kill them. Naomi softly smiled at the two of you, while Galina had the most pissed off look on her face.

"Hey..I'll see you at school?" You say to him, with a soft smile on your face but not too noticeable since you knew Galina was staring at you.

Roman simply nodded, returning the smile and just stared at you in awe quietly. You said your goodbyes before you went back to your friend's car.

"Damn, Y/N. I just said popcorn not the whole concession stand." She says, looking at me weirdly. Then she just blankly stared at you for a minute before her eyes widen, realizing what you had on.

"Bitch, is that Roman's Jacket?" She squealed, and you hushed her real quick before she got excited.

"I'll explain later, okay?"

Your friend alternated looks between you and the movie, giving you the side eye as she took the popcorn out of your lap, "This conversation isn't over."

TAGS; @gold--gucciempress @wwzentertainment @flawlessglamazon @nicolewoo @romanreignshairdresser @sassymox @pennysky @lemonjvicey @thandiwethagirl @haharollins @rollinshield3 @sheerbeautyreigns @zaddyreigns @brookethegamer @alination @vir-tual @reigns-5sos @wickedsunfire

[bbyboibinnie]

comfort zone

synopsis: all your life you’ve tried your best to maintain a regular routine and comfortable life. during your last year as a senior though, everything changed and suddenly you were pushed out of your comfort zone. pairing: bang chan x fem!reader genre: high school au, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, little cliche but you gotta have some cliche stories in your life sometimes warning: mild swears wc: 11.8k a/n: this has not yet been proofread so my apologies for any errors! hope you enjoy nonetheless!

The hand on the clock was ticking excruciatingly slow. You’d been eyeing it for the last 10 minutes, trying to count down the time before math would finally wrap up and you could speed your way towards the cafeteria before everyone else began to flood in. It’s been like this for the last three, ongoing four years. You and your small group of friends had managed to secure a table in freshman year and that had been the hang out spot every day during the forty minute lunch period, which was frankly way too short. On most days, you spent half of those forty minutes waiting in line for the overpriced food that was barely considered edible. 

Nonetheless, right as the bell rang you were already out your seat and past the door. Other students were scrambling into the cafeteria and you picked up the pace to reach the line. You were squished between the person in front and behind you and if it weren’t for the massive backpacks acting as barriers, you’d be disgusted by the close contact. 

“I was wondering what took you so long.” Seungmin noted as you reached the wooden bench. 

“I know, it took even longer than usual to get this plate of god-knows-what,” you poked at the crusty pile of what looked to be pasta on your plate. “Those idiots kept cutting and of course the principle who stood there didn’t bat an eyelash as it happened right under his nose.” 

Seungmin shook his head and popped open the bag of chips he got from the vending machine. “The joys of high school right?” 

“Thank gosh this is our last year here.” 

“Amen to that.” You clinked your juice box with his and munched on the mediocre pasta, joining in on the card game the others had started. 

“Oh I forgot, we have that rally thing today don’t we?” Your other friend—Lia—brought up. 

“What rally?” You put down a queen and relished in victory as the others reshuffled the deck. 

“The one for the football players or something right? We’ve been going to this school for the last three years and we don’t even know.” What Lia said was very true. Before you had started high school, your parents and basically every adult you talked to said to ‘make the most out of your high school years’ and ‘get the full experience.’ Frankly, you just had your head set on getting that diploma at this point because after a while, everything has just felt more draining and repetitive, including today’s rally. 

“I guess there will be less class time then.” You shrugged, reaching out to grab the cards and continue the next round.

———

“I don’t get it.” 

“Don’t get what?” Seungmin said, turning to face you. 

“Why football is so hyped at our school. I mean at other schools I get it because they actually win, but haven’t we just been losing all season?” The rally had been going on for over half an hour and another yawn escaped your lips. 

“Yeah, I’ve been to every game and the best we got was a tie. Anyways, there’s only a handful of games left before this season ends. You should come.” 

“And remind me why I should?” The two hosts of the rally were trying to hype the crowd up and you had to stifle laughter as the person in the mascot costume came out from behind the bleachers. Did they ever wash that costume? It must’ve reeked of sweat in that thing; yoed at the thought.

“Because you’ve never gone before? I know sports isn’t really your thing, or any after school activity for that matter, but it’s high school. You gotta experience it at least once.” Seungmin reasoned, pulling at your arm. 

“I mean, you said they’ve been losing. I’m not going to pay and spend like two hours watching our school lose for the nth time.” The person in the costume was making rounds around the field now, starting a wave with the crowd. 

“Okay, what if I pay for your ticket then?” 

“But those two hours of of precious time will be wasted—“

“They have snacks there. Popcorn, churros, corn dogs, and your favorite and mine—fried oreos.” Events always sounded more appealing when food was involved, but you were hesitant. “C’mon please y/n? For me?” Seungmin was doing those puppy eyes with the pout to your dismay. Out of all the years you’ve known him, you could never turn him down whenever he gave you that look. 

“Fine! But you’re paying for the food too.” 

“Deal.” 

————

Seungmin had arrived at your house at six thirty on the dot and you slipped on your shoes before shouting to your parents that you were leaving. When you had told them that you were going out, especially to attend the football game, they had been surprised then elated. Your parents were the kind that always tried to encourage you to get out of your comfort zone and enjoy new things, and considering you were a major homebody, this was a pretty big step out the bubble of comfort if you had to say so yourself.

“Wow I’m impressed, you even wore the school colors.” He said as you got in the car, eyeing your outfit. 

“I mean if I’m going, might as well go all out right?” You ended up wearing the school hoodie with a white pleated skirt, the best part were the streaks of eyeshadow—red and gold—you had on your cheeks (no face paint because you didn’t have any on hand). 

“Exactly, now let’s go, I want to be there early so we get good seats.” He stepped on the gas and you were on your way back to school, something you’d never thought you do after hours. 

“Y/n pick it up, I can see a spot in the front row but someone else is gonna to snatch it if you keep you with that snail pace.” He looked back at you from atop the stairs of the bleachers. 

“Well it’s not my fault you won’t help me carry all of this food!” You gave him an exasperated look as you tried to balance the drinks, snacks, and napkins all in your hand. 

“Listen, I bought it so you do the heavy lifting and labor alright? Now let’s go.” He pulled on your arm and the corn dog nearly slipped out your hand as you tried to keep up with Seungmin. 

You gave out an annoyed huff as you sat down, right in the front row just like how Seungmin wanted. The feeling of the cool metal bleacher sent a chill up your spine and the bitter autumn wind wasn't helping ease the cold. You were starting to regret wearing that skirt. 

“We’re here, happy? Now take your food before I eat it all myself.” You rolled your eyes and handed him his share of the food while he excitedly starred off towards the field. The players were warming up and the opponents were off to the side, huddled with their coach. 

You looked back at the people in the stands and the seats were packed. To be honest, you were just shocked that this many people showed up to watch even though the team had a losing streak. There were adults, schoolmates, little kids, and —someone even brought their dog. It seemed like everyone was eager for the game to start and although this wasn’t something you ever thought you’d do on a Friday night, you were one of the eagerly anticipating spectators in the stands too. 

From beside you, Seungmin kept looking around the field, as if he were looking for something. You were puzzled at this but didn’t bother questioning him because wow, the fried oreos were delicious. 

“Aye Chan!” Your friend shouted; he was sitting so close that it felt like he had screamed directly into your year. His loud voice managed to catch the attention of one of the players on the field as the boy with the number 97 on his jersey turned around and jogged towards where you and Seungmin were seated. 

“Seungmin, you made it today!” The boy reached out over the fence that separated the crowd from the field to greet Seungmin and you were both confused and surprised at the sight. Seungmin knew one of the football players? Not just one of them but the football player Chan? Team captain Chan? You were with Seungmin five days a week at school and it had never occurred to you that he knew anyone on the team, much less the captain.

“Why are you so surprised? I come to every game.” He was leaning on the fence as he talked to Chan. 

“Did you come alone again?” You tried not to eavesdrop but it was impossible when they were speaking directly in front of you. 

“Nah, I actually convinced a friend of mine to come with me today for once. Y/n!” He shouted your name which made you look up in shock while in the midst of stuffing your face with fried food. Seungmin shook his head and grimaced at the sight. “Sorry, she usually isn’t this uncollected.” 

You gave a slight wave towards the two and swiped the crumbs off your cheeks. This was so embarrassing, Seungmin was going to get an earful from you after this. 

“Nice to meet you!” Chan shouted, smiling at your direction. You nodded and awkwardly tried to return the smile before giving up and going back to all the fried goodness that the snack stand had to offer. 

They probably talked for another ten minutes before Chan jogged off to join his teammates and  Seungmin came back to his seat where you immediately proceeded to throw questions at him. 

“You know Bang Chan? How do you know him?” 

“Yes, I do know him and we’ve known each other fo—“

“I’ve been your friend for so long, how come I didn’t know you were friends with the captain of the football team?!” 

“Well, I do have other friends outside of our friendship grou—“

“Wait, I’m still your best friend though right?”

“Oh my god, y/n yes. We have been friends since elementary and nothing changes tha—“

“Seungmin, answer my questions!” 

“I’m trying but you keep cutting me off.” He said which shut you right up. “Anyways, yes I know Chan. His mom and my mom are super close so we just started hanging out when our parents were together, that’s why you never saw me with him at school. And you’re my best friend and will continue to hold that title. No football player is going to take that title away from you.” You smiled in relief at the last part. 

“Is that why you go to all their games?”

“Well yes, but I also genuinely enjoy the atmosphere of these events.” 

“Ahh, as expected from the extrovert himself. I’m truly amazed how we’re best friends.” This thought had come to your mind on numerous occasions. Seungmin had that happy-go-lucky type of personality, always smiling and being the social butterfly while you were on the quieter, more pessimistic end of the scale. If it weren’t for the fact that you guys were assigned seats next to each other in the third grade, you don’t know if you two would’ve ever crossed paths otherwise. You’d have to thank your third grade teacher someday for doing you a massive favor with that seating chart. 

“They say opposites attract y’know?” Seungmin threw an arm over your shoulder and annoyingly ruffled your hair—you felt like he was an older brother you never had sometimes. You swatted his hands away and tried to fix your hair. 

“Can you stop doing that? You know I actually tried putting effort into my hair today righ—“ 

“Y/n shut up, the game is about to begin.” He shushed you as the band began to play and you begrudgingly stopped talking.

After the dramatic applause and cheers died down, the teams got into position and soon enough the game had started. You had never actually seen a game before, only seeing snippets of them in television dramas or in books, so you didn’t understand the penalties or all the ins and outs. Regardless, you watched silently for the most part and clapped when others did. 

It was halftime and the scores were not looking so hot. You had finished your drinks and snacks long before and was starting to wish you’d stay home because this game was turning out to be another bust—-as you had expected. 

“Seungmin, I’m getting bored. I tried being optimistic and hoped for a win but we are down by so many points.” You pouted as you looked at the scoreboard—five to twelve. 

“Aw c’mon y/n, it’s only half way through. Anything could happen in the other half.” He made a good point but it was not making you have any more hope than before. “Hey, why don’t you try cheering for them in the next half? Maybe if we cheer louder and give them even more support, they’ll do better. I gotta say, your half hearted clapping is not very effective.” You playfully elbowed him in the stomach for that remark. 

“If you say so, but if I scream at the top of my lungs and they still end up losing, I’m never going to another one of these games.” 

————

The game had continued on after the short half time break and it seemed like your school was finally gaining points. It was neck and neck and everyone was on the edge of their seats by the time the last quarter of the game rolled around. 

You had been so enticed with the game that you didn’t realize how late it was getting. You had arrived at six thirty and it was almost reaching the two hour mark. The sun had completely set by now and the field was being illuminated by the massive lights and whatever little light the stars and the moon  in the sky were giving off. 

“Not going to lie, we are doing better than I had expected.” Seungmin commented during the break session in between the quarters.

“Really? Are you telling me this is the team on a good day then?” You asked incredulously. The scores were so close but the opponents were still leading by a few. 

“Sadly, yes this is a good day for us. Let’s just give it our all with the cheers for the last round and hope they win.” And almost as if on cue, the whistle blew and the players were back in their positions. 

“Wooo!! C’mon guys!” You hollered as loud as you could. Then the ball was tossed and the clock was counting down the final quarter. 

——— 

“YES CHAN! C’MON YOU GOT THIS!” You and Seungmin weren’t even sitting anymore, you had gathered near the fence and your eyes followed as number 97 was speeding down the field. 

“Oh my god.” Your eyes were getting dry and you felt the need to blink but you forced yourself not to because you didn't want to miss this moment. 

“Holy shi—.” You heard Seungmin barely whisper from under his breath. Heads were turned as everyone watched Chan pass the goal and into the end field right as the clock reached zero.

Before you knew it, the audience around you had erupted into laughter, applaud, cheers, and everything in between. Meanwhile, the football players had circled on the field and were all congratulating one another. 

“Did we just win?” You looked at Seungmin and he turned to you with a gaping mouth, nodded rapidly. 

“You just witnessed the first win of the season!” The two of two started jumping up and down like little kids, smiling and shouting excessively. 

“My throat is so dry from all that screaming, but it paid off.” You smiled and felt light headed, unsure if it was because you were overjoyed or because of all the screaming and dehydration, probably all of the above. 

“Let’s go find Chan and congratulate him!” Seungmin grabbed your arm and pulled you down the steps of the bleachers, past the track and onto the grass. You spotted him from a few feet away but the two of you waited for the crowd to disperse a bit before reaching him. 

“You finally did it man! First win of the season!” Seungmin gave Chan one of those ‘bro-hugs’ and you stood back a bit to give them their space. Chan was just a friend of a friend so you felt awkward approaching him, but still you said your congratulations to him.

“Seungmin said it was your first time coming to one of our games right? Quite a show we put in tonight for you then.” He looked past Seungmin and directed the conversation at you, smiling like he had earlier. You didn’t notice this the first time but he had a dimple on one of his cheeks. His brown hair was tousled in every direction from wearing the helmet and the fringes of his bangs were matted to his forehead with sweat, undoubtedly you still thought he looked quite cute.

 “Yeah, I don’t know anything about football but I think you guys were great tonight!” You said, trying to project your voice so that he could hear you amongst all the other chatter and commotion. 

“She thought you guys were going to lose.” Seungmin noted, making you glare in his direction, silently telling him to shut up. Chan just laughed at the response, which made his smile grow wider. 

“It’s okay, I know we usually don’t do so hot. I’m glad you guys could come and watch us succeed today though. What a relief I exceeded your expectations then.” You smiled and awkwardly chuckled in response, feeling guilty now that you’ve been exposed by Seungmin for being a pessimist. 

“Well it was great seeing you again man, you gotta come over soon. My mom keeps asking where you are these days.” Chan turned back to Seungmin and they exchanged some more words before he focused back on you. “Also, thanks for coming tonight y/n to watch the game, and for accompanying my friend here, he usually goes solo and I pity him sometimes seeing him in the stands alone. Hopefully you’ll come back for our next game.” Honestly you had no plans to, but looking at Chan with his dimple, warm eyes and being convinced by his charming words, you felt like the urge to clear your schedule for it. 

————-

“What do you mean you’re not coming?!” Seungmin spun around in your desk chair and rolled towards your bed where you sat, surrounded by an innumerable amount of paper and textbooks. 

“It means I’m not coming, what words are you not understanding?” You replied without looking up, flipping to the next page in your calculus book. 

“But why not?” He was starting to sound like a whiny toddler and you were already getting frustrated with trying to solve this stupid math equation. 

“Seungmin,” you said firmly, looking at him in the eyes, “why can’t you just find someone else to go with? Can't you see I’m busy? This project isn’t going to finish itself.” You gestured towards the loads of work scattered everywhere. “Go ask Lia or something.”

“No, the last time I tried to bring her along she just kept talking about how pretty she would’ve been as a cheerleader and started to sulk over the fact that she didn’t make the squad. Anyways, you missed last week’s game too! Plus, you had so much fun the first time around.” Seungmin whined, saddened by your blatant, harsh rejection. 

“Right, but like I said I have to get this done. You know I’ll prioritize school work over a sports event any day. Plus, that was a one time thing. I just went for the experience. And now that I’ve experienced it, I can check it off my high school bucket list and move on.” Your focus ripped away from your friend and back to your notebook which was filled with scribbled and incorrect math solutions. You’d been working on this project for what seemed like an eternity and the light at the end of the tunnel was not showing itself. You wanted to scream in frustration. 

“Please come, it’s so much better with you there! Whenever I go alone I feel so… alone.” He watched as you crumpled up another piece of paper and threw at the trash, completely missing. “Plus, take it as a break from all your hard work and studies. You’re clearly stressed and need to unwind, treat yourself!” You eyed him from where you were sitting, going over his words. Maybe he’s right. You did have a lot of fun the first time you went and this project wasn’t due for a few more days.

You sighed, “I don’t know. Perhaps I do need a break.” His eyes lit up at your response and he quickly reached over to shut your textbook and push your notebooks to the side. 

“What are you waiting for then? Those first row seats are going fast.” After a moment, you caved into his words. 

“Alright, grab me the hoodie in my closet.” You ordered and he happily complied. Quickly you threw your hair into an updo and put streaks of gold and red on your cheeks. Slipping on the hoodie, you turned towards Seungmin who gave you a thumbs up. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Right as you guys were about to step out the room, you pulled him back. He gave you a questioning look. “By the way, you should consider being a salesman because sir, you really have a way to convince people with your words.” 

“Please spare me of your corny jokes y/n.” You punched him for his lack of appreciation for your humor as he led the way to his car. With that, you shut the door and the two of you were once again on your way to the school. 

———

“Oh sorry.” You apologized as you bumped into somebody as you tried to squeeze through the crowd and to the bleachers. 

“It’s oka- oh, y/n! Hey, you came back.” The person talking had a familiar voice so you looked up and Chan’s grin came into view. 

“Chan, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on the grass like warming up or something?” Over his shoulder, you could see the rest of his team mates stretching and whatnot by the field. 

“Yeah, but I had to run back to grab something from the lockers. Guess my timing was impeccable because now I’ve run into you. I noticed you didn’t come to the last game so I wasn't expecting you today either.” In last week’s game, Chan had thought you’d tag along with Seungmin like the other time but when he noticed you weren’t there, he felt a slight tinge of disappointment. “Is Seungmin with you too?”

“Yup, he went to grab some food. Sorry about missing the game last week by the way. I was busy.” It sounded like a pathetic excuse but it was the truth, you were caught up trying to study for exams and prepare for a presentation so there was no time in your agenda for a football game. 

“Ah, no worries. You’re here now right? Plus, you didn’t miss anything last week anyways. We ended up losing, pretty badly actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and you felt bad for him. Before, you had always made jokes and poked fun at the team for constantly losing but if you were in their shoes, you would’ve felt so discouraged and perhaps even frustrated. At that moment, you sympathized for him and his teammates. 

“Don’t worry Chan, that was last week so it’s the past now. Focus on today and have hope that you’ll win! Go out there and give it your all. I believe in your and the other players.” You gave him two thumbs up and a cheeky smile and he couldn’t help but laugh at your attempt at a motivational speech. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He genuinely meant this. Lately, he’s been getting at himself for all the losses this season. Was it because he was an incompetent player? Was he a bad captain? Was he even good at football? All these questions swirled in his head and kept him up at night but having recently won, hearing your cute speech, and seeing you beam sweetly at him, those doubts vanished. 

“Chan! There you are, come over here so we can take some pictures for the school yearbook together!” One of the cheerleaders approached Chan and you watched as she clung onto his side. For a moment, you had forgotten he was the popular team captain. 

“Uh, maybe in a bit Tiffany. I’m busy right no—“ 

“Come on Chan, the photographer for the yearbook club is already here. Plus we look good together.”

You felt like you were intruding on something here and felt so uncomfortable as you witnessed the girl flirt with Chan. You had to get yourself out of the scene. 

“Well I’m going to go grab a seat, good luck Chan!” You hurriedly fled to leave those two alone. 

“Tell Seungmin I said hi. Also, cheer loud for me! I need the support!” He shouted as he was dragged away with the girl. You made your way up to the stands and sadly, you hadn’t made it in time to grab the front row but thankfully, you spotted an empty area not too far back and sat down. 

While you were sitting there waiting for Seungmin—what was taking him so long to get the food?—a realization struck: you just had a full on conversation with the captain of the football team and it was completely void of any awkward tension. You had only met the guy once before and merely exchanged a few words with him. You’d never thought you’d even attend a football game much less two, and now suddenly be on speaking terms with Bang Chan. Senior year was something else. 

“Earth to y/n?” A hand waved in front of your face and you snapped out of your thoughts. You realized it was your best friend—he had finally gotten back with the food. “You good? Why are you spacing out?” He sat down and started munching in the kettle corn. 

“Just thinking how weird it is that I ran into Chan of all people and managed to have a full on, not-awkward conversation with him.” You left out the last bit where the cheerleader came in though, because that was beyond awkward. 

“How is that weird?”

“I don’t know. I just never thought I would be this far out of my safe little shelter. I mean think about it. I’ve stuck with the same handful of friends since freshman year and it wasn’t until like two weeks ago when I finally went to a school event. Now, I’m suddenly chatting up a storm with the captain of the football team and am sitting here sipping on hot chocolate waiting for the game to start, thanks for the hot cocoa by the way.” You blew glenty on the drink and observed the steam dissipate into the night air before taking a sip, pure instant mix hot chocolate flavor, just the way you liked it. 

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess it is sort of odd.” Seungmin nodded in agreement before continuing, “But as long as you’re enjoying yourself, then there’s no problem. Sometimes stepping out of your comfort zone to experience new things has its benefits.”

“You’re right, I guess I’m just finally realizing that now.” You smiled to yourself and watched as the two teams raced around the field. You still lacked knowledge about football, but watching this time around felt even more exciting than the first time. 

———

The team ended up winning again and of course you and Seungmin were so proud of your school for taking home another victory. Just like last time, you two waited around after the game to approach Chan and shower him with compliments and words of praise. 

“I didn’t think we’d be able to do it but we did it.” Chan was still dripping sweat and catching his breath, but his eyes shone brightly with joy. 

“Of course you’d be able to do it! You’re Bang Chan! The one and only.” You bobbed your head in agreement with Seungmin’s words. You had to give it to him, he was the best hype man a person could ask for. 

“Thanks. Anyways, the team and I were planning to grab some pizza at the local shop nearby as a mini celebration, do you guys want to come?” Immediately you shook your head while Seungmin on the other hand had accepted the invitation without a second thought. 

“I know this is a lot to ask of you and you’re probably going to say ‘sorry, I have to go finish my math project’ but please y/n. You’re already here and the night is still young.” Seungmin was clinging onto your right arm like a koala and you rolled your eyes at his antics. 

“If you knew I was going to bring up my math project then why bother trying to beg? Now let go of my arm you big baby.” You tried to wriggle your arm from out of his clutch but then someone grabbed onto your other arm.

“Please y/n.” You looked to your left and Chan was acting like koala 2.0. You expected this from Seungmin, you’re long-time best friend, but you had just met Chan on one other occasion and yet he acted like you two were the best of pals. You were taken aback by this but couldn’t manage to get either of them to let go, and the close proximity to Chan was starting to make the blood rush to your cheeks. God, you had to get them off of you before your face grew any redder. 

“Yes, okay! I’ll go!” They instantly detached themselves from your arms and high-fived each other, you let out a breath of relief. “One of you has to pay though, I don’t care who.” 

So there you were, sitting in the red and white colored booth stuck between Seungmin and the football team captain himself with a slice of piping hot pizza in front of you. This is not how you thought things would turn out. 

When everyone had arrived at the pizzeria, it was chaos. People were throwing out their orders and topping preferences and others were fighting to grab a table. You quickly told Chan your order, as he offered to pay, and pulled Seungmin to a booth before all of them were taken. Luckily, there was one last one that was unoccupied at the corner. When Chan had came to the table with the pie in hand, you thought he would take the other side of the booth but someone had spilled sticky soda all over the seat so that’s how you found yourself in this current predicament, squished between two teenage boys in a stuffy old booth, on a weekday night.

The three of you were eating and mindlessly talking when a group of girls drew closer towards you guys. You figured they must’ve wanted to talk to Chan so you continued eating quietly. 

“Chan you were amazing tonight! You really led the team to another win, I knew you could do it.” You recognized her, it was the same girl from earlier—Tiffany? 

“Thanks, hope you enjoyed the game.” Chan responded politely. 

“Of course I did silly. Anyways, do you want to join me and the others over there?” She pointed towards the other side of the pizzeria where most of the players and cheerleaders were gathered. 

“I’m good here, thanks for asking though.” She looked shocked at his response and for the first time, she averted her attention away from Chan to focus on you and Seungmin. Her eyes rolled right over Seungmin but stopped at you. Her gaze made you feel all ansty and self-conscious, but you tried your best not to show it. “Okay, well call me then.” She said before turning back and moving back to the other side of the room. 

It was silent for a while before Chan broke the tension. 

“So you like pineapple on pizza?” Chan said, biting into his own slice.

“Well yeah, it’s the superior topping.” The combination of sweet and salty was the best.

“Do you perhaps like mint chocolate ice cream too?” He asked, handing you a napkin as he noticed the smear of tomato sauce on your cheek. You nodded in thanks. 

“It’s not my favorite but I wouldn’t pass it up if offered.” You shrugged and grabbed another slice of pizza. 

“Seungmin,” Chan said, which caught the attention of the boy on the other side of you. “I like this girl. She had good tast–” Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at his words and he didn’t manage to finish his sentence before you started coughing, almost choking on your food. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” They simultaneously asked in alarm and you silently gave them the  ‘ok’ hand signal while inhaling down your drink, trying to wash down the pizza and calm yourself.

“All good.” You were not all good. You were just about to choke on pizza while some guy you barely even knew proclaimed that he liked you out of the blue. 

“Anyways, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by someone choking.” You slapped his arm and he laughed in response. “She’s got good taste and quite the sense of humor. I see why you ditch me at school to hang out with her now.” He joked, was he teasing you already? This guy seriously warms up to new people fast.

Thank gosh no other light-hearted confessions were made for the rest of the dinner, you didn’t think you could handle anymore heart-stopping jokes for the night.

“Wait.” Seungmin said suddenly, just as you guys were about to start wrapping this up and leaving.

“What?” You looked at him, waiting for a reply.

“I think y/n is our lucky charm.” He said with too much confidence. You whipped your head to look at him.

“What nonsense are you sputtering now? I am no one’s lucky charm. Do I look like that tiny leprechaun on a box of cereal to you?” You asked, feigning offense. 

“Well, I think you got the tiny part down.” Chan pointed out, and for the nth time you smacked him on the arm. Sure you were on the short side but there was no need to rub it in.

“That’s not what I meant y/n.” Seungmin gave you a deadpanned look before carrying on. “Anyways think about it guys, the first time y/n came to the game, the team won. Then she didn’t go to last week’s game and we lost. And today, she attended and we won again. Seeing a pattern?” He looked at you two expectedly, waiting for you guys to catch on. “I’ve connected the two dots.”

“You didn’t connect shi-” You started but Chan cut you off.

“You’re right!” His face brightened and turned towards you. “Y/n, you are our good luck charm! . You facepalmed yourself, these two shared the same three brain cells. 

“Right, and you’re Santa Claus.” You said with thick sarcasm dripping from your voice, “You guys are ridiculous. Now help me clean up please.” You referred to the table which was covered in dirty napkins, crumbs, and parmesan cheese packets everywhere. Thankfully they obeyed and started clearing the mess.

“No seriously, we have been losing all season and the moment you show up, it’s like all that is erased and we win!” Chan tried to reason, but you weren’t having any of it.

“It’s just a coincidence. It’s you and your teammates that are doing the work and bringing in the luck. I am merely just an audience member, an observer.” You shook your head at them and continued wiping down the table.

“Don’t take our word for it then, but you have to go to the next game!” Seungmin announced as he tried to reorganize the condiments on the side. You had just gone to the game and no time had passed before you were urged to go to another one. 

“I’ll think about it.” You peered over at Chan and he was smiling uncontrollably while Seungmin was happy dancing. What did you just get yourself into?

–––––

Ever since the spontaneous pizza meeting and the half hearted promise to attend the football games, you’ve been seeing Chan more and more at school. Sometimes you’d just notice each other in the halls and mouth “hi” or other times it was passing period and he’d see you and ask  “how are you?” before the seven minutes were up. As the days continued, he just increasingly  appeared in your frame of vision and it left you confused.

Both of you had been in the same grade year, at the same school for the past four years but you swore you’ve never even noticed him before and now he was everywhere. He’d be near your locker in the morning tagging alongside Seungmin, greeting you with a sunny smile and fresh look that contrasted greatly to your own glum expression and ‘just rolled out of bed’ appearance. It was seven am, you had an excuse to look like this you reasoned, making yourself feel better. 

Lately, he even sat with you and your tablemates at lunch. Your group of friends was shocked at first. Questions like “why is a football player sitting with us?” and “why is the football team captain sitting with us?” were exchanged amongst the table and you didn’t know how to answer because, why was he sitting with you guys all of a sudden? Eventually everyone got used to it though; he came around so often and no one objected. Initially, your friends had thought he was the stereotypical jock that acted all mighty and superior, but soon enough they realized he was the complete opposite of that. He was nice, funny, intelligent, and easy to get along with. He’d help your friends whenever they were struggling to finish their homework last minute, and he’d join in on the games of uno, go fish, and whatever else. 

Frankly, you didn’t mind his presence either and Seungmin was absolutely basking in delight because both of his best friends were now with him at school, playing the same card games and eating the same shitty school food together. You didn’t know when or how, but Chan just eased his way into your life and you had accepted it for the most part. However, there were moments when you still questioned him though, and one day you figured you might as well clear the confusion in your head. 

“Hey Chan.” He was currently teaching you how to play poker. 

“What’s up buttercup?” 

“Don’t call me buttercup.” You fixed a glare at him. “Anyways, I hope this doesn’t come off as a weird question but, why have you hung out with us everyday at lunch?” He didn’t say anything for a second and you regretted asking.

“Hm, I guess I just like it here. Your friends are nice, Seungmin is here,” he pointed towards the boy who was on his third pack of vending machine chips. “And you’re here.” You tried not to make anything out of that last comment and brushed it off.

“What about your other friends?”

“Other friends?” He raised an eyebrow at you and continued shuffling the cards.

“You know, the people you normally hung out with before you started hanging out with us?” 

“I didn’t have any friends.” He said and you scoffed, not believing it for a second.

“You? Captain of the football team. Mr. Bang Chan himself didn’t have any friends until you met us?” You said incredulously. 

“I mean I had Seungmin.” 

“He couldn’t have been your only friend.”

“No, I guess he wasn’t–”

“I knew it.”

“You didn’t let me finish. He wasn’t my only friend but I felt like he was my only true friend.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, it all felt so fake, so forced. Like I have my teammates and they’re chill, but we were just teammates, we didn’t hang out much besides practice or games. It’s like, just because you’re classmates, that doesn’t automatically make you all friends right?” You understood what he was saying and agreed. “And everyone else… well, it just felt ungenuine. I know many of them just tried to befriend me for the connection and to have the ability to say ‘I’m friends with the football captain’ but it wasn’t anything more.” At that point, you had wished you never pried. You felt like you had just pushed him to open Pandora’s box and that’s not what you had intended.

“Look Chan, I’m sorry I got nosy. I didn’t mean to ask you that and pry–” The apology started spilling out your mouth but the smile on his lips made you stop. “Why are you smiling? Shouldn’t you be offended and mad at me?”

“No, of course not. I know you must’ve felt weird that I randomly started hanging around you and your friends and I’m glad we got to clear up any confusion.” He said softly, looking at you from across the table. “I genuinely enjoy being around everyone at this table, especially you, so you don’t have to question it anymore. Okay?”

You kept replaying the words in your mind, ‘especially you.’ How could he say these things so easily and not realize how fast it made your heart pound or how sweaty your palms got? You couldn’t focus for the rest of lunch as he tried to teach you the ins and outs of poker. 

————- 

Weeks had passed and you, Seungmin, and Chan were like three peas in a pod—inseparable and going everywhere together. 

One day, you guys had planned on a hang out with three spots on the schedule planned. First was to hit up the arcade—Chan’s idea—and then grab dinner at Olive Garden—Seungmin said he was craving their breadsticks—-and lastly the cherry on top would be ice cream—-your suggestion. 

“Ready to get your ass handed in air hockey big shot?” You teased Chan as three headed to the arcade. 

“Oh, you’re so on.” He narrowed his eyes at you in the rear view mirror and you laughed from the backseat. 

“Woah, we should make this more exciting. Make it a wager.” Seungmin proposed from the passenger’s side. 

“What do you have in mind?” You stuck your head in between the two seats and looked at him. 

“Whoever loses...has to dress up as a fanatic at the last game of the season.”

“Isn’t the last game next week?” You asked, and the boys nodded in confirmation.

“Anyways I was thinking big fluffy tutu, face paint, a colored wig.” Seungmin listed out.

“Oh, and my jersey!” You made a disgusted face at Chan.

“Your jersey? You mean the one you sweat in and get both mud and grass stains all over?” The image of it alone was already disturbing, you couldn’t imagine actually putting it on.

“You know I wash it right?”

“Well regardless, what are we going to do if Chan loses though? He can’t do any of that, he had a uniform code to abide by.” You pointed out.

“Good point, if he loses he has to wear all of that to the after party then.”

“After party? Isn’t that only thrown when the team wins? What if the team doesn’t win?” You pointed out.

“The team will win.” Chan said with full confidence.

“No offense, but how are you so sure?” 

“Because, you’re our lucky charm.” 

________

“This is so unfair! He is an athlete! His hand eye coordination is way better than us common folk!” You shouted in disbelief as the last puck went into your goal, signaling that both you and Seungmin lost. 

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Chan teased as he proceeded to do a victory dance as you and your other friend stared at him unamused. “Oh wait. I only have one extra jersey though, so only one of you can wear it.”

“All yours Seungmin!” 

“What, no way! You should wear it, you had the least amount of points between the two of us.” 

“I– you– ugh!” You couldn’t argue with that. You had to accept the fate of wearing that dingy, stinky, jersey now.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll do my best to wash it before then.” Chan added, finding it cute how you scrunched up your nose and pouted.

“Great, how reassuring.” 

“Ok that’s enough arcade for tonight. My pocket is running dry and those breadsticks are waiting.” Seungmin stated before making it towards the door with you and Chan following behind. 

The night was coming to an end and you guys were at the last stop–the ice cream shop. The three of you ordered a sundae and took turns scooping from the mountain of frozen dairy, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles. 

“Are you nervous for the last game? You're going against the toughest school right?” You asked, looking at Chan who sat on the other side of the table with Seungmin. 

“A little, but for some reason I just feel really confident in the team so I think we will be fine.” 

“No doubt you got this in the bag man.” Seungmin said through a mouthful of ice cream.

“Nasty! Shut your mouth while you're eating Seungmin!” You tossed a crumpled up napkin at him.

“You’re one to talk, you’re quite a messy eater yourself.” Chan mentioned, reaching over to swipe the chocolate syrup off the corner of your lips. Regardless of how close you two had gotten over these last few weeks, his little gestures like these always caught you off guard, like wiping the corner of your mouth, guiding you somewhere with his hand on the small of your back, walking you to every class period. You’ve known Seungmin for years and he never did these things! Was it because he wasn’t chivalrous enough? Or was Chan too chivalrous? You shook your head of those thoughts and helped the two finish up the sundae.

–––––––––-  

This had got to be the worst outfit you ever wore you thought to yourself as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. The tulle skirt was actually cute but everything else was simply hideous. Seungmin had brought over the accessories in the early evening and you two had spent the last hour or two dressing up and getting ready for tonight’s game. You wore a wine red wig with gold stars painted across your cheeks and of course you kept your end of the deal and had Chan’s jersey on too, which surprisingly smelt of fresh linen. Seungmin on the other hand wore a bright yellow mohawk wig with half his face painted red, adorned with his very own tutu, which was layered over his pants, as well. You two looked awful but extremely hilarious.

“If I don’t get accepted into a college. I could go to the circus looking like this.” 

“Clown college is always an option.” Seungmin joked and you two laughed at your appearances until there were tears in your eyes. 

“Ready to go?” 

“Yup, let’s blow Chan’s socks off with these outfits.”

While you two were busy getting ready for the game, Chan was trying to prepare himself too, but mentally. It wasn’t that he was nervous about the game or the team losing, he had total confidence tonight would bring in another victory. The team had been doing well so far and everyone had been practicing extra hard for this final event. What he was really nervous about was seeing you. 

It had been weeks since he had first met you and the more he had gotten to know you, the more feelings he developed and the harder he fell for you. He had first seen you in the stands when Seungmin introduced you to him and he thought it was funny, yet adorable how your cheeks were stuffed like chipmunks with fried oreos. As time passed, he realized that you weren’t just cute, but so sarcastic, funny, and clever. He loved the way you made him laugh so easily and seeing your eyes turn to crescent moons whenever you smiled affected him more than you would ever know. 

He was planning on confessing to you today, to finally say the words ‘I like you.’ He had tried to do it multiple times before, but he never had the courage. Today was different though. Today you’d be wearing his jersey to the game and he was going to win, afterwards you’d meet him on the field and he’d run to you to say those three words and you guys would gaze into each other's eyes under the twinkling stars before going to the after party together, officially as a couple. That’s how the scene played in his head anyways. 

It was hard to not notice you when you had arrived. Both you and Seungmin stuck out like sore thumbs with the extravagant wigs and tutu combination. He couldn’t keep in his laughter and approached you two, meeting halfway. 

“You guys look amazing. Stars of the show tonight.” He looked at Seungmin before switching his gaze to you. Although he admitted the outfit had some clashing elements, he still thought you looked cute and pretty as ever. Seeing you in his jersey, which was just a bit too big on you, made his heart flip. There you were smiling at him with the light shining on your face, rosy cheeks, and his name written on your backside. How could he stop himself from falling for you?

“Thanks man, if we didn’t lose that game in air hockey, we would’ve never had the excuse to dress up like this. Like the mohawk?” Seungmin pointed to his hair.

“Love it. It’s a great look on you.” He looked at Seungmin before switching his gaze to you. Although he admitted the outfit had some clashing elements, he still thought you looked cute and pretty as ever. Seeing you in his jersey, which was just a bit too big on you, made his heart flip. There you were smiling at him with the light shining on your face, rosy cheeks, and his name written on your backside. How could he stop himself from falling for you?

“We’re going to the party after the game too right? I told my parents I was going to be home late today.” You asked. 

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” Chan said. 

“The game is about to begin, you should get going Chan, we will be in the stands cheering for you.” You reassured him before moving towards the steps to the bleachers, he grabbed your wrist to stop you though. 

“After we win tonight, meet me down on the field right after okay? Don’t wait, I have something important to tell you.” 

“Okay, now go before you’re scolded by the coach!” You ran up the stairs and assumed Seungmin was right behind you, in actuality he had stayed back for a second to talk to Chan. 

“Are you ready man? After you win you gotta use whatever adrenaline left and build up the courage to tell her.” Seungmin reminded Chan, hoping he wouldn’t back out of the confession again. He had been the wingman for weeks now and every time he thought Chan would do it, he didn’t. When his best friend first told him that he had a crush on your other best friend, he was momentarily appalled at the idea. However, after hearing Chan’s explanations on why he likes you and his feelings, he figured third wheeling you two wouldn’t be too bad as long as the both of you were happy, so he went along with it. 

He thought you’d catch onto Chan’s hints and subtle flirting, but either you were too dense or intentionally ignored it. Regardless, he and Chan had been planning this night for too long and he could not let his friend fail again. 

“Don’t worry. I’m going to do it.” 

“Okay, I’m really rooting for you.” 

Then Seungmin joined you in the bleachers and shortly after, the game commenced. 

———- 

It was intense. The opponents were just as good as the rumors made them out to be and your school’s team wasn’t leading, but they weren’t far behind either.

The other team had called for a time out and so the game was on pause. You were nervously eyeing the scoreboard and looked around in the field to find Chan. Was he feeling more pressured now? Hopefully he still had the confidence from earlier. You spotted him, with his back turned, but it was as if he knew you were looking at him because he circled around and locked eyes with you. You gave him two thumbs up and he returned the gesture. 

The whistle blew and everyone got back into their positions. The time was running again and the crowd was cheering nonstop. 

They had to win. 

It was the first game you’d ever gone to over the last few weeks that had gone over time but surely enough, the school reigned victorious. 

“Y/n, remember you had to meet Chan at the field right?” Seungmin reminded you, and thankfully he did because you were so caught up with the win that you’d forgotten for a second 

 “Oh, right. Are you coming?” 

“No, I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.” With that you left Seungmin and hurried down the bleachers. You had made it to the track and was halfway to the field when you noticed Chan, but he wasn’t alone. 

You stopped mid-step and watched as the unknown girl wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. You couldn’t see her face form here but you had a feeling it was Tiffany again. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach. 

He said he had something important to tell you. When he said that, a big part of you was looking forward to the end of the game. Not because you wanted to see them win, but because you wanted to hear him tell you what was so important. Was it that he liked you just as much as you liked him? When these feelings first developed, you tried to bury them. Not only was he Seungmin’s friend, which would make things weird, but because you weren’t sure if he was single, and  even if he was, why would he like you when there were so many other girls at the school? But you were bad at burying feelings and it didn’t help that you saw him everyday at school and even more so when you hung out. 

You had been hopeful though, perhaps by some miracle he had a crush on you too. But from the looks of it now, you had been wrong. So you stood there staring like a fool as the girl continued to kiss him. It must’ve been only second but it felt like forever. You snapped out of it when you realized hot tears were running down your cheeks, so you turned to leave through the school gates. 

————-

Chan pushed her off and immediately put distance between himself and the girl. “What are you doing Tiffany?!” 

“Why do you keep calling me Tiffany? You used to call me Tiff or princess.” She said, stomping her feet out of frustration. Chan wanted to roll his eyes at her childish behavior. 

“That was before.” Before was when Chan and Tiffany were together and known as the ‘it’ couple amongst the school. She was the head cheerleader and he was team captain, it was just like all those cheesy teen rom-coms. At the time, he had never dated anyone before and thought what they had was fun, but there was no real chemistry. It had lasted for almost a year but Chan had broken it off. “We’re not together anymore.” 

“Then let’s get back together.” She reached out to him but he stepped back. 

“No, there’s no chance for us anymore Tiffany. I gotta go find someone.” So he left the flabbergasted girl in the middle of the field as he ran off in search of another girl who was in a brightly colored tutu and the jersey with his name on it. With no luck he saw Seungmin and went up to him. 

“Where is she?” Chan asked anxiously.

“What do you mean? I thought she was with you.” Seungmin asked in a wary tone. 

“What? No, I haven’t seen her.” 

“Chan, she left right after the game ended to look for you. How can you possibly be telling me you missed the girl in a bright ass wig and a tulle skirt?” He asked in disbelief. 

“Oh shi—“

————

Thankfully the walk home wasn’t too bad, besides having the cold air nip at your bare skin, it wasn’t a very long walk and before you knew it you were already on the front porch unlocking the door. 

Your parents were already fast asleep and you didn’t want to wake them so you gently closed the door and made way to your room. Your reflection in the mirror revealed the streaks of eyeliner that were smudged around your eyes and the face paint was no longer intact. Washing your face, you tore off all the ridiculous clothes and slipped on your oversized t-shirts and sweats. 

This was so stupid. You felt like a protagonist in one of those typical romance films which is the last thing you had wanted. There you were wrecked in tears, crushing over some guy on a Friday night and he didn’t even realize it. The game was over so he was probably at the after party with that girl right now, meanwhile you were sulking under the covers in bed. 

The phone on your nightstand was chiming non-stop and it dawned on you that you just left Seungmin without a single word. Quickly you swiped your screen open and went to your messages.

Over thirty-two texts–twelve of which were from Seungmin and the rest were all from Chan. You disregarded the latter and tapped on your best friend’s name.

(8:42 pm)

[ seungminnie ] hey, wya?

(8:45 pm)

[ seungminnie ] r u in the bathroom?

(8:46 pm)

[ seungminnie ] wait, did u leave already?

(9:04 pm)

[ you ] yeah, i was feeling tired so i left. sorry, hope you have fun at the party tho. 

You hit send and shut off your phone for the rest of the night. The rest of the night was uneventful as you laid awake, running through everything that had led you up to this point. From the first football game, meeting Chan, befriending him, falling for him, then being crestfallen because of him.

This is why you always stuck to the things you knew, the things you were comfortable with. It had been like this for so long and the one time you finally tried to live life a little bit carefree with less restraints, it backfires. You wanted to blame him for causing this pain in your chest and the waterworks, but at the end of it all, it was your fault for thinking things would be different. Meeting Chan made you optimistic; perhaps those stereotypes about football players and high school kids were wrong. It was your fault for stepping outside of your safe little bubble and expecting things to be okay. You were naive.

————

The afterparty was a bust. After Seungmin had received the text from you, he informed Chan and the two of them were no longer in the mood to go, but everyone else was still in a celebratory mood and the team ushered Chan to join. How could the team captain not go to the party? 

So there he was, sitting on the couch while Seungmin was off trying to grab more sodas. He had plastered on a fake smile when people greeted him. Sure he was happy that they had won, but he didn’t feel like dancing, or mingling, or whatever else teenagers did at parties. All he could think about was how he messed up again at trying to confess to you. You must’ve seen what happened, there was no other reason for you to leave so abruptly like that. He had sent so many texts, sporadic apologies mixed with incoherent explanations. All left unread, unresponded. How was he going to fix this? You clearly didn’t even want to talk to him.

Seungmin came back with two cans in hand and Chan thanked him before popping it open with a satisfying fizz. His friend joined him on the couch and for a while, they just sat quietly, occasionally sipping on the sweet drink while the room around them continued to move to the music and muddled conversations filled the atmosphere. Finally, one of them spoke.

“What am I going to do?” Chan asked, defeat lined his voice.

“Do you really like her man?” Seungmin already knew the answer, but he had to ask.

“Yeah, I really do.” He said without a moment’s hesitation. Chan didn’t have much wisdom or experience when it came to relationships. He’s had crushes on different people before and many have tried to get his attention but none of them had the same effect on him as you did. 

“Then wait until she’s ready to approach you again and fight for her. It’s going to take time but if you want to make it happen, you have to try.” 

Seungmin was right. This wasn’t going to be simple, but he had to try. For you, he would.  

————

You tried to recover over the weekend and Seungmin sent you some texts, checking up on you to ask if you were alright. You were grateful for his concern and reassured him that you were okay, and in a way, it was a half lie, half truth. It was going to take more than two days to get over heartache, but you were prepared to let it go and move on, especially when you realized that it was your mistake to begin with and that even if Chan didn’t like you that way, you still enjoyed having him as a friend. All these weeks you spent with him brought you happiness and you didn’t want to erase all of that just because of some silly feelings. 

Coming to that conclusion, you finally opened the texts that he had sent but you had been ignoring for the last three days. 

(Friday 8:50 pm)

[ chan ] seungmin told me you left, i hope you made it home safely

(Friday 8:51 pm)

[ chan ] he told me u were going to meet me after the game. u must’ve seen us. im sorry

It was difficult to continue reading as your eyes began to blur but you swiped away the tears that threatened to spill and kept scrolling. 

(Friday 8:53 pm)

[ chan ] i really wanted to talk to u. Ik what you must be thinking but it’s nothing, i promise. she isn’t my girlfriend. we used to date but that was a long time ago. it's over now. 

[ chan ] please reply. 

[ chan ] im sorry y/n. seriously, im so sorry. 

(Friday 9:27 pm)

[ chan ] i’ll wait for u until ur ready to talk to me. gn 

That was the last text he sent you. It was just a few sentences but you let out a shaky breath and tossed your phone to the side. He wanted to talk to you, and you wanted to talk to him too. Was it just a big misunderstanding? He said the girl wasn’t his girlfriend, but rather an ex. That didn’t automatically guarantee he was single though, did it? Also, if she was an ex, why did he kiss her then? You groaned and fell into your bed, face planting into the pillows. 

This was so confusing. You should’ve never developed feelings for him. Whether he was single or not shouldn’t matter to you anymore, you just wanted to joke around, make sarcastic comments with each other, and be platonic friends like before. It was less stressful and complicated that way. 

————

Monday rolled around and you gave yourself a mini pep talk before walking through the school doors. You were determined to face him and not break down. This was going to be fine. You whispered to yourself as you spotted Seungmin near your locker, Chan wasn’t with him. Both a little disappointing, yet relieving. 

“Morning gorgeous, you doing well?” Seungmin leaned against your locker door as you grabbed your belongings.

“Well hello to you too gorgeous.” You joked, no matter how bad your weekend was, having your best friend nearby always cheered you up. “I’m doing alright this morning, woke up on the right side of the bed.” 

“That’s good, um, are you going to talk to him today?” He asked cautiously, hoping that it didn’t come off too pushy or nosy.

“Yeah. He said he needed to talk to me after the game right? Might as well see what he had to say.” You shut the metal door and together, you and Seungmin walked to first period. 

Half the school day had passed and the bell rang, signaling that it was lunch. This was it, you were going to face him now. You were afraid he’d avoid you because he didn’t sneak up behind you in the halls or walk your classes today like he usually did, but you saw his figure sitting at the lunch tables through the glass windows. Slowly you made your way to the bench. His back was turned to you so you gently poked his shoulder; he turned and looked up, a gentle smile spread across his face when his chocolate brown eyes locked onto yours. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” He breathed out, standing up to match you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” His hands were shoved in his pockets and he looked at you nervously.

“Yeah.” 

He led the way and you stuck close behind him. Soon the school’s garden came into view and thankfully most people didn’t come here, it was sort of hidden behind all the buildings, so you two had the area to yourself. It was so quiet and mellow here, there weren’t many flowers in bloom due to the recent season change, but it was still very beautiful. 

You sat on the little wooden bench that was placed in the center and he did too, leaving some room in between you two.  

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You started, looking down at your lap to avoid looking at him.

“I’m sorry. That’s the first thing I want to tell you.” He had all his attention on you. Chan paused for a moment before continuing, “You saw me with that girl the other night didn’t you?” You nodded your head wordlessly. His shoulders slumped at your confirmation but he figured you did.v“I know what you saw must’ve been really bad and you probably came up with many assumptions but I’m here to tell you that none of that is true. We aren’t together.” He said firmly.

“Then why did you kiss her?” Your voice was a mere whisper.

“I didn’t kiss her, she just came onto me and I was shocked. Once I had realized what was happening and who it was, I immediately stopped it and told her that she and I were completely over.” Some of the pain in your heart eased hearing this but you didn’t want to be too optimistic.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to know that I am not with her. I am not with anyone.” He said vehemently, leaving no room for doubts. “Y/n, please look at me.” When you didn’t, he gently grasped your chin and turned your head so he could finally meet your eyes. You had a dejected expression and your eyes were glazed over with trapped tears. He cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand; the warmth and closeness made your heart flutter. 

“Y/n.”

“Mmhhm?” You didn’t have the ability to form words at the moment. His touch made you lightheaded and you couldn’t think straight. 

“I like you.” His gaze never tore away from yours. 

“What?” Your forehead wrinkled in puzzlement.  He liked you? Bang Chan, captain of the football team. The boy everyone wanted to be friends with and the guy nearly all the girls swooned for. Bang Chan liked you?

“I. Like. You. Not just as a friend. I like you as a person that I want to go on dates with, hold hands with, make happy memories and experience the highs and lows of life with.” He was so close to you now that you could feel his breath on your cheeks. “You are the girl I wanted to hold in the middle of the field that night and say these words to. I’m sorry that didn’t happen but it’s better late than never.” The words were slowly processing through your head but unconsciously, a grin formed on your lips and red was rushing to your cheeks. 

“Chan, I like you too.” The words came out so easily and the boy immediately broke out into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

He leaned in close but before your lips connected he whispered, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes.” If someone were to have told you a few months back that you’d be kissing Chan under the cloud-dotted, blue autumn sky after he just confessed his feelings for you, you would’ve guessed they were insane, but there you were now doing exactly that and nothing could’ve made you happier. 

You had always been afraid of trying new things and straying from your typical routine because you didn’t know what challenges life had in store once you’ve ventured too far. Undoubtedly, stepping out of your comfort zone was difficult. Nevertheless, it was worth it because it led you here to this very moment. 

also here is my masterlist in case you want to read my other works!

[erzaguin]

Huntmira Week 2021 Day 4: Human AU

“Hey you’re the new transfer student right? My name is Amity and as your class rep I’ll be giving you a tour of the school. Follow me and don’t fall behind. We have a schedule to keep and we are already running late.” said the cotton candy haired girl as she started walking briskly away. “Come on I wasn’t kidding I will leave you behind if you don’t hurry.” 

“Alright so you already know where the office is. If you get in any trouble this is where they’ll bring you. Down that hallway over there is the school library which you have access to at any time during school hours. Come on, we're already running behind schedule so we don’t have time to see it.” she stated as she continued walking forward at a fast pace.

“Now the school is essentially divided into four parts each of which is assigned to a different grade level. Essentially it is meant to give students more time in between classes so they can get whatever materials they need from their lockers. Speaking of which, this one is yours.” she noted as she came to a sudden stop. “The number and the combination are on the welcome packet you received at the front desk. As you may have assumed already this is the freshman hallway apart from electives all of your other classes will  be here. Any questions? No? Good. Let’s keep moving.” without so much as a pause she turned on her heels and started moving at the same brisk pace.

“The hallway to your left leads to the juniors hall and the sophomore hall was the first hallway to your left when you entered the school. As for the senior hall that would be the separate building at the back of the school. The cafeteria is right at the center of the school and it also doubles as a social area. And this is the gym.” she stated as they reached a large oval shaped building separated from the rest of the school. “Hopefully nobody notices we are late” grumbled Amity under her breath as she opened the door. 

As soon as the door opened a roar of cheers washed over the pair as they entered the building. The gymnasium was filled with the entirety of the student body who appeared to be completely enthralled by whatever the captain of the girl’s basketball team was saying. She along with the rest of the basketball team were standing at the center of the gym with the school principal standing a few feet to the side beaming with pride. 

Amity ignored them completely as she tried to make out where her friends were in the stands. Without saying a word she tugged on the transfer student’s sleeve to get them to follow her. 

“Hey Amity, you made it. Oh is this the new transfer student” whispered Willow as Amity took the empty seat behind her. “Yeah sorry we’re late I had to give them a quick tour before coming here.” grumbled Amity as she thought about how late they were. 

“Oh don’t mind Amity she can be a bit grumpy in the mornings . . . and afternoons. I’m Willow by the way” she said in a cheery voice. “I’m Gus! Your family just moved to Gravesfield right? said the young man sitting next to Willow. “You’re going to need someone to give you a run down of what you need to know abouts Gravesfield. But never fear Gus is here.” Boasted the youth before proceeding to give the transfer student a rundown. 

“The first thing to know is that Gravesfield athletes are mini celebrities in town. If there is one thing Gravesfield High is known for it would be our sports teams. And because there is only one high school everyone in town gets pretty into it.” explained Gus with excitement but before he could continue the school principal called for everyone's attention the gymnasium became quiet.

“Now that we have heard from our athletes who will be representing our school out in the field it is time to hear from our student council.”exclaimed principal Bump as a small group of students made their way to the center of the gymnasium. 

Rather than applauding the student body stayed quiet as the youths continued to make their way to the center. There were only three of them but their presence  alone commanded the attention of every individual in the gymnasium. 

“Oh boy” mumbled Amity too herself as she saw her two siblings take center stage along with their best friend hunter. 

The three stood in a line facing the other students with Hunter in the middle with Edrick to his left and Emira to his right. The tension in the gymnasium had started to increase when without raising his voice Edric said “Hey” giving the students a sly smile. Without any warning the entire gym burst into a cacophony of cheers. Which only intensified when Emira gave them a wink.

“They really are popular aren’t days,” noted Willow as she looked at Amity who was trying to shrink into herself from embarrassment. 

“This must be really weird for you to see huh?” shouted Gus  over the crowd to the transfer student. “ Yeah, if the athletes are celebrities then the members of the student council are royalty.” said Gus before pausing for dramatic effect.

“The twins are Edric and Emira Blight. Edric is the treasurer and Emira is the vice president. They are on the top of their class, always the leads in any school play, and probably the most charismatic people you’ll ever meet. Also if that name sounds familiar it’s because more than likely your parents bought your new home from their mom Odalia Blight. She is the most well known real estate agent in the area. Not only that but their family also owns a security company.You might have seen some homes with a sign that says “protected by Blight security." 

"Some? Don't you mean all? Every building in Gravesfield uses Blight security. And aren't you forgetting one very important Blight?" Added Willow as she nudged her head towards Amity.

"Oh right Amity is also a Blight and she has the top spot in the freshman class she's als…"  

"That's ok no need for my resume " Interrupted Amity with a face that shows equal amounts of annoyance and embarrassment. 

"Suit yourself " shrugged Gus. "Anyway the blond guy between the twins is the school president Hunter Wittebane. If he looks familiar it's because he's on all the promotional posters with his uncle Mayor Belos. He is the most influential man in Gravesfield and Hunter will definitely follow in his uncle's footsteps. He is the captain of all the boys sports teams as well as the debate club, book club, and history club. Honestly he’s a very intimidating guy if you think about it.” mused Gus. 

“You know there’s a lot of rumors of how he became school president during his freshman year. They don’t normally allow freshmen to run.” puzzled Willow not asking anyone in particular but was loud enough for other students to hear and joined in the conversation. 

“I heard his uncle threaten the school” said a girl sitting in the row under theirs. 

“I heard the twins charmed the school principal to let him run,” said the girl next to her. 

“I heard a rumor that people added his name to the ballot when they heard he was dating one of the twins.” said a boy from somewhere above them. 

“I heard he was dating both” shouted someone else from a distance. 

“Silence,” a commanding voice rang through the gymnasium as all the students fell quiet. Hunter had stepped up to the mic and was now scowling the students in front of him. 

“Thank you,” he said in an almost gloating tone with a smug smile on his face. 

“It's good to see that everyone is so excited about school.” whispered Emira giving Hunter a sly smile causing him to roll his eyes. 

“As you all know we are the current members of the student council. We are here to let you know elections will be coming up soon and we encourage anyone interested to go run for a position in the student council. Just know that we will also be running to keep our positions. Now if you excuse us we have work to do.” boasted Hunter before turning on his heels and making his way out of the gym.

The twins waved goodbye to the crowd causing the gymnasium to erupt into a fit of cheers which could be heard even after they had left the gymnasium. 

"Do you two always have to be so extra?" Mumbled Hunter as he walked down the hallway. 

"Oh don’t be like that Hunny" said Edric as he put an arm around Hunter and gave him a flirtatious smile.

"Yeah it's not our fault that the crowd loves us." chimed in Emira as she clinged to Hunter’s arm.

“Yeah right and don’t call me Hunny” scoffed Hunter who by now should be used to the twins' shenanigans but they always found new ways to annoy him. 

Both twins let go of Hunter at the same time and let out a gasp as they feigned being shocked. “But you used to love us calling you Hunny” Groaned Edric while pretending to cover some tears. 

“Our little Hunny is growing up. He's embarrassed of us now.” said Emira as she mimiqued her brother’s reaction.  

Hunter let out a long sigh as he looked at his best friends pretending to cry. Even knowing there were no tears there he just could not bear the thought of upsetting them. These two had been his best friends, his only real friends since pre school. Because his uncle was such a powerful and influential man many people tried approaching Hunter as a means of getting close to his uncle. He understood that the twins felt the same because of how often people approached them for their families business connections and wealth. Then there were those who were too scared to approach any of them because they found them intimidating or just out of reach. 

They had never cared about who his uncle was just as he did not care about their families business.  He just couldn’t imagine what his life would be like if they hadn't approached him on their first day of pre-school.

The twins had stopped pretending to cry once they saw the expression on Hunter’s face. “Hey you ok?” asked Emira, genuinely concerned as she approached Hunter.

“If it bothers you that much we’ll stop” sniffled Edric as real tears were threatening to break through. 

Hunter looked at the pair and could not help himself from smiling appone seeing their grief stricken faces. These were his favorite people in the world just as they were the most annoying.

 “I hate you guys.” said Hunter with a smirk. 

To this both twins lit up and latched on to either one of his arms as they continued walking down the hallway before saying in  unison “Aww we love you too Hunny.”  

“Stop calling me that” demanded Hunter as he let himself be pulled away by the two.

[lovelyirony]

@rhodee for you

When Tony had gotten back from Siberia, he hadn’t been able to see anyone for a long time. 

But people had been to see him. 

He wasn’t expecting Rhodey to come and see him for a variety of medically-related reasons, but he was hoping for an email or a phone call, at least a message about Tony being a “dumbass.” 

And then he asked Pepper how Rhodey was doing, and she tenses up. 

Pepper has never been a good liar to Tony, not since they got drunk together for the first time and she told him every single tell she had for lying. They could never hide from each other after that. 

“He’s...knocked out, still.” 

Tony raises his eyebrows. 

“So, he’s not knocked out, something happened to him.” 

“Tony, he...he doesn’t remember.” 

“What, the fall? I wish I couldn’t remember that either, but I’m betting that that’s not what you’re talking about.” 

“He doesn’t remember any of us. He doesn’t remember anything except for his freshman year of college. All of this information is...overwhelming for him.” 

Tony freezes. 

He and Rhodey didn’t live together freshman year. Hell, they didn’t even know each other freshman year. They became sort-of-friends near the beginning of sophomore year, and that meant... 

Oh god.

Rhodey wouldn’t remember three important things: 

1.) He’s bisexual.

2.) He’s an accomplished man who has achieved much in his lifetime and has grown comfortable with himself with years of help.

3.) He married Tony. They’re married. 

For a long time, Rhodey didn’t really want to admit that he liked guys. It wasn’t something he ever talked about, nothing he ever wanted to discuss. He didn’t mind that Tony had an attraction to men, but he always seemed to put himself at a distance when Tony brought someone over for dinner or a study session. 

Rhodey didn’t want to come to terms with it at first. He was very adamant that he would marry a nice girl and settle down, and Tony hadn’t contested it, hadn’t challenged him on it. That could have very well been the situation. 

It wasn’t until the end of sophomore year--into the summer, actually--that Rhodey even wanted to tempt to talk about what attraction would even mean for him. 

They had gotten together senior year, and Tony has a picture framed in their bedroom of Tony dipping Rhodey into a kiss (and dropping him after the picture was taken) after graduation. 

“They had to take off his wedding ring for the surgery, but I wasn’t sure what to tell him. The doctors said to avoid bringing up any information that would surprise them, and I remember that you talked about it once...” 

“Yeah,” Tony says thickly, his chest hurting from more than just a frisbee-toss gone wrong. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s, uh...let’s just transfer him over to the headquarters. I’ll just...I’ll figure something out.” 

He can’t tell Rhodey he has a husband. He can’t. The reaction alone would be terrible, if he’s knowing what he knows. 

-

So he doesn’t. 

Tony welcomes Rhodey into the compound after taking down every single romantic photo, briefing everyone who still lived there that Rhodey had lost his memory, and praying to whoever would listen that Rhodey didn’t find out until he was comfortable with it. 

“I don’t go by Rhodey,” was the first thing off of his lips. Not a hello, not a smile. “I go by Jim.” 

“Right,” Tony says, smiling in that flashy way that Rhodey usually told him to stop, because it creeped him out because he knew what that smile was actually all about. “Jim. Nice to see you back.” 

“I wish I could say the same, but I’m not exactly sure I remember you. Your face looks really familiar, though.” 

“Well, that’s what nearly twenty-five years of knowledge can do to somebody,” Tony says quickly. “Let me show you to your room. Sorry about the lack of decorations, we didn’t really want to overwhelm you with anything.” 

“I’m fine,” Rhodey says, clearly annoyed. “It’s just weird knowing that I’m way fucking older and apparently I graduated college and managed to make something of myself and I can’t remember any of it.” 

“I can’t say I understand, but I can say that it sucks,” Tony says. “But, lucky for you, I kept some of your stuff.” 

“A friend kept my stuff?” Rhodey asks. “Why?” 

“Because I’m annoying and you pretend like you hate me, when I am the best thing that happened to you,” Tony says, smiling. 

He then turns when he can see Rhodey’s--Jim’s--expression turn sour. 

“Ah, anyway,” Tony says hurriedly. “You just...keep stuff sometimes.” 

(He’s not going to mention that it’s because they shared an apartment. Or a house. Or a room. Or, on occasion, a bank account.) 

“Dinner is gonna be at seven, feel free to come down,” Tony says, smile wearing thin. 

- 

Jim doesn’t come down. 

Or he did, but he came down early. 

Because he doesn’t want anything to do with Tony. 

“It’ll just take time,” Pepper tells Tony over the phone. “Give him some space.” 

So Tony does. 

But it’s hard giving your amnesiac husband space when you’ve never done it before, not really. 

Tony has always been around Rhodey, always been invading and crawling into his space, and Rhodey really only complained when Tony’s hands would sneak around his chest when the nights were dark and cold. 

Now they’re at a distance, and Tony doesn’t know how to bring up any facts about their life. 

So far, all Jim’s been doing is catching up on history. 

“We fought Captain America?” he asks, gaping at the article about finding Captain Rogers in an iceberg. “Why?” 

“He likes putting his foot in his mouth a lot.” Tony says. “And both sides have been notoriously bad at keeping their cool.” 

“Oh. So we just...I  fought him? Because I’m just friends with you?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, quite uncomfortable with the insertion of the word “just” in that sentence. 

“...weird.” 

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.” 

Jim looks up. 

“Why do you call me that?” 

“Call you what?” 

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.” 

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.” 

“Oh. Gross.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Tony says. “But kinda funny. One time you called me ‘sugar-tits’.” 

Jim laughs at that one. 

“Oh god, that’s...rough. What else did I call you?” 

Baby. Honey. Love of my life. Darling. 

“Uh...” Tony says, pretending to think. “I think love-muffin was also an option.” 

Jim throws back his head and laughs. 

“How did we...how did we become friends?” 

“Well, it all started with a dining hall and you trying to steal an entire painting without getting caught, and my valiant rescue...” 

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s not true?” 

“Because it isn’t,” Tony grins. “Just making sure your bullshit-detector is working again. It is. We met because we weren’t supposed to be roommates but they fucked up and the rooms filled up, so you dealt with me as best you could.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “What do we do for fun?”

Go on date nights. Talk about how stupid we were as kids. Debate who asked out who. Cook together. 

“Uh, we used to...shoot hoops.” 

“You don’t seem like a basketball kinda guy,” Jim says. 

“Oh believe me, I wasn’t,” Tony responds with a laugh, “but you were, and you always liked kicking my ass on the court.” 

“Good to know that I can still probably do that,” Jim says, smug and self-satisfied. “Hey, where did Pepper go?” 

“Oh, she’s busy with a contract this week, what do you need?” 

Jim puts his hand on the back of his neck in that nervous habit he always got (that Tony only knew about because every single time he would walk into the room after he realized he liked him in that way, Rhodey would do that). 

“Um, just want to ask her something. About my life.” 

And Tony can’t breathe. 

He doesn’t know and that’s...that’s everything. 

“She’ll be back for dinner,” Tony says. “In the mean time, I’ll be in the lab working on some stuff, feel free to do whatever.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

- 

Pepper stares at Jim, who for so long has been one of her best friends and is now asking if he had anyone who he was involved with romantically. 

“You...what?” 

“Did I have a girlfriend or anything?” Jim asks. “Because, um, it’s going to kind of suck if I didn’t.” 

“You had a girlfriend sophomore year,” she answers carefully. “That lasted for about three months or something. You’d have to ask Tony more about it, he knows more about you than I do.” 

“And you said we’re...friends? We didn’t date?”

“Yeah, we are friends, no we didn’t date,” Pepper says. “We get lunch on Thursdays if you’re in town.” 

“I’m in the army, right?” 

“About to retire, too,” Pepper says with a grin. “You were really happy, you were planning on taking Tony on a trip.” 

“I was?” Jim asks, frowning. “We’re...that close?” 

“Well yeah, you’re-” Pepper pauses for a moment. “You’re best friends. You always like spending time with Tony.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “Okay.” 

He knows that they’re lying to him. He gets why: if he learns too much, it could cause some sort of damage. And according to Friday, “Colonel Platypus” (whatever the fuck that means) keeps his personal life intensely private. 

He doesn’t know why he’s done that. Why he’s kept everything so private. It’s not because of his military status, he thinks. Unless, of course, they put him on all sorts of secret projects. That could definitely be a thing. 

Tony keeps almost calling him Rhodey. It’s a weird nickname. He doesn’t know why he apparently loves it. It sounds...stupid. Weird. Jim works just fine. 

Pepper also said they were just friends. And she sounds like she means it. And Tony says they’re just friends, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. 

But that doesn’t mean...? 

No. Of course not. There would be pictures and rings and all of that sappy, gross shit that comes with weddings. 

...would there be? 

“Hey Friday?” he asks. 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes?” 

“Um. Is gay marriage legal?” 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes, it is. Would you like further articles about the decision?” 

“Uh...sure. I guess.” 

He keeps reading articles (with reading glasses) and learns a lot about what’s been going on. 

He’s just interested, obviously. In current events. 

- 

It’s a week later when he asks Tony about it. 

“So...did you remember the whole legalization of gay marriage thing?” he asks Tony, who pauses at his coffee. “I, um. Read an article where they said you were bi, so I wasn’t sure if you-” 

“No, I am,” Tony says. “I remember it really well. I celebrated well that day.” 

he grinned as he looked at Rhodey, and swore to rent out the entire metropolitan museum of art, just for him. he would do anything for him, anything at all-

Jim looks at him. 

“What did you do to celebrate?” 

“Well, there were quite a lot of people at gay bars. We danced. I drank a glass of champagne. And then we danced again.” 

“Someone was with me?” 

“You were,” Tony says. “You were here when it happened, and it was...it was a good day for us.” 

“I’m not gay though,” Jim says with a frown. 

“Doesn’t mean that you can’t celebrate,” Tony says, eyes holding something in them that makes him look like he might cry. “Some people’s triumph can be a momentous occasion.” 

It can the occasion where your marriage is finally recognized everywhere. It’s where you get the iconic photo of mashing cake in your partner’s face, and all of the guests are grinning and you’re happy, and--

Tony shakes himself out of that train of thought. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jim says. “Just...please tell me that you didn’t get any embarrassing pictures.” 

“Oh I did,” Tony replies, grinning maniacally. “Would you like to see yourself in a feather boa or a flamingo floatie?” 

“Oh my god,” Jim moans, throwing his hands to the dinner table. “No...” 

“You looked a dream, gorgeous,” Tony teases. “And I have the pictures to prove it. I’ll get them out another time, I promised Dum-E that I’d help him pick up his mess.” 

“Who is he?” 

Tony grins. 

“He’s our baby, metaphorically speaking. We built him on a half-drunk, half-dare kind of situation,” Tony says. “He’s a disaster.” 

Jim thinks about it for a moment. “Can I...can I meet him?” 

-

Dum-E hasn’t seen his dad in forever. He’s wheeling around Rhodey, beeping and nearly running over his feet. 

“Great, your return has pushed back any build-up coordination training we did,” Tony scolds, although his tone doesn’t sound serious at all. “Dum-E, your father and I agreed to help clean, although methinks that Jim will be a great surveyor for us.” 

“What’d you spill?” Jim asks. 

“Couple of glass stuff,” Tony says. “He’s been really into stained glass recently, I think he was trying to make his own.” 

“He can think?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “His coding, by the way, was like sixty percent you. That’s why he’s so damned stubborn and also why he puts motor oil into smoothies, genius.” 

“Hey, that most definitely was you,” Jim says. “You didn’t grocery shop that day, so I was weak and malnourished.” 

Tony stills. 

“You...remember that?” 

Jim pauses for a moment. 

“You...you were supposed to go grocery shopping and I made a list,” he says, smiling fondly. “And you didn’t take the list because you said you had an eidetic memory, but you still forgot the lemons, so I don’t believe you.” 

Tony throws back his head and laughs. 

“Glad to have a memory for you, Rho-Jim. You want a glass of water or anything?” 

“Water sounds fine.” 

Jim watches as Tony works around Dum-E, obviously used to his quirks and mannerisms as he banters and threatens with nothing backing up that threat. 

He smiles as he wheels himself over, grabbing a dust pan on his way over. 

“Figured we’ll need this,” he offers. Tony accepts it with a smile. 

“Thanks Jim.” 

“You can-you can call me Rhodey. If you want.” 

Tony looks at him for a moment. 

“But is that what you want?” 

Jim pauses. 

“Yes. For now.” 

“Okay,” Tony says, smiling. He’s not showing how fucking happy he is, how ready he is to leap for the moon and bring stardust down on his way home. “Thank you.” 

Jim nods. 

“I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” 

“Have a goodnight, Jim. Let me know if you need anything.” 

-

He lies awake in bed that night. 

“Hey, Friday?” 

“Yes, Boss?” 

“I...I’m not being told everything, am I?” 

“Information can potentially be triggering to the current state you are in, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“Are you being paid to say that?” 

“I don’t get paid,” Friday says. “Although if I did, I would not want to take the money.” 

“So I am missing something,” Rhodey says. “I just...I don’t know what.” 

“It will come with time, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“And if it doesn’t? If I have to relive life all over again?” He asks, growing agitated. “If my memory doesn’t come back, Friday...I’m not sure they’ll ever tell me anything.” 

“It is already a good sign that you remembered Dum-E. He was missing you quite terribly.” 

“Can I...can you show me a picture of me with him?” 

“Sure thing, Boss.” 

- 

Rhodey has a sharp intake of breath. 

Right there. 

Right on his left hand. 

A wedding ring. 

And then he looks at Tony, Tony who is looking fondly as Rhodey and Dum-E are reenacting some stupid thing, and there’s a-

A ring. 

On the left hand. 

That wasn’t there before. 

Shit. 

[navyhyuck]

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𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃, 𝐉𝐀𝐘.

↳ a love letter a week, and it has you wondering who’s your secret admirer. you have nine weeks, eight candidates, and one story to live. will you find out who your ‘jay’ is?

a/n :: hi guys it’s finally here!! this is an introduction sorta prologue type chapter here, and i, uh, apologize for the length but anyway, please enjoy and stay tuned for more! :) update :: repost because tumblr hates me

wc :: 1.6k

taglist: @childofthecycle @takoyakkun @the8luvr @staywrites

let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

“That’s the new kid? Shit—he’s kind of hot.”

You’re caught off guard by Ryujin’s confession, the usual slam of her locker faltering as you lean back on your heels, giving her a raised eyebrow. She’s not looking your way, however, her usually bored eyes watching an unfamiliar face stroll down the hallway; your best friend’s gaze isn’t the only one he’s getting. It wasn’t, especially eyeing him from the button-down shirt he has lazily tucked into his jeans to the clack on his dark shoes on the tiles—he had your mouth practically dropping open at the sight.

You’re absolutely sure, you realize as he walks out of sight—the only thing marking his past presence being the cling to his neck jewelry, that you’ve never seen someone walk through those halls with a fashion sense as exceptional as his. Though you’re shaken out of your trance by the girl next to you, a low chuckle leaves her as you blink back into the present.

“What’d I say?” She tests, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that makes you roll your eyes, turning towards your locker to open it. “He’s hot, right? Like not a jock sort of hot but more like a, oh! Like one of those anime guys that loves the girl but sort of wants to kill her, that kinda hot. You know?”

“...Right.”

“And he’s got a nice face too, don’t you think?” Ryujin adds slyly, a smirk spreading across her lips as you wince at her choice of words. “Plus he’s on the swim team apparently, at least from what I heard this morning. It’s kinda hard to believe it too, that you know, someone with better fashion sense than Han Jisung’s entered the school. And well, anyone other than Jisung is the one for me.” She ends off dramatically, leaning against the lockers with her eyes staring up at the ceiling as if they had the answers to the next calculus test on it.

The boy’s swim team, well, you could possibly call them the pride and joy of the school; from the way every bleacher is filled with a packed audience, they make a more entertaining group than the football team (which we don’t talk about, not ever since Lee Taeyong’s senior rebellion against the sophomore class for sabotaging the homecoming game). It would be a lie if you were to say you’d never gone to one of their many meets and watched them take every lap as if it was nothing on their shoulders—if anything, you give them the credit they deserve. Though it’s common for everyone to have a favorite from the team as well—from the current top (and most popular) seven—you never personally decided on one. If you had to pick, you’d be conflicted till your last day on the earth.

First, is Lee Minho, the captain of the swim team. It’s easy to tell why he’s a school favorite, considering the athletic drive he’s had since his days in elementary school and the contributions he’s made since his freshman year, but most importantly because of his spirit. The previous year, he single handedly took the team to the county championships with his skills in freestyle and backstroke—though he won first prize for freestyle—and earned the highest title yet. Because of that, the annual argument on the team captain had even been unofficially cancelled this year because of the coach’s final (and best) choice; no one had dared to say Minho didn’t deserve the role.

Next, is Bang Chan, the team’s best diver. You don’t know too much about swimming, the only facts being the ones you derived from watching countless meets beside your friends, but you’re certain you’ve never seen a diver better than him. The only other thing about him is that he has the hearts of everyone melting at any given time, the dimpled smiles he gives with every loss or win being the one that somehow channels energy each time. He’s also seen as the most optimistic, mainly for his cheesy cheers before meets actually start, and as the one with the most charisma.

After that, is Seo Changbin. If there’s one thing about him that the entire population comments on, it’s that resting bitch face he holds throughout the school day and practically anytime he’s not swimming. It seems like it changes completely when his skin touches the water, maybe it’s as magical as a mermaid, but it’s also how he manages to speed through 500 yards without a few pants of exhaust at the end. He’s always one to keep going, until past the breaking point.

Next, is Han Jisung, the team’s designated popular member. He’s Ryujin’s favorite (and it’s ridiculously obvious, regardless of how hard she attempts to hide it) as well as many others, clearly being yet another contributing factor to his popularity. But he’s not just popular for the sake of it, he’s also quite famous for his sleek backstroke. Being a dream it is to some to see Jisung swimming competitively in the evening on Friday, you’ve even seen some take advantage of the situation by taking snapshots. You don’t like to think what he might think of strangers taking pictures of him in a bathing suit, however.

After him, is Kim Seungmin. Maybe you could call him another school favorite, but he isn’t nearly as ‘famous’ as his counterpart, though you might be one to advocate for his backstroke over Jisung’s. He’s also known for his impeccable grades, rocketing higher than most of the students in the school and even placing him in the top 5% of the school. Not only is he a stellar athlete, but he’s got the A’s as well. (You can expect him to be a teacher’s favorite, too.)

Next, is Lee Felix, the team’s best individual medley swimmer. Out of everyone on the team, he’s known as the one and only to exhibit some of the best technique (he was even complimented on the local news, and your heart had almost stopped just seeing the pretty boy on your TV). He’s also on the dance team, the captain too, though he’s more well known for his skills in the water. You can guess that there are a handful that come to watch him dance as well.

Lastly, is Yang Jeongin. A junior, actually, but with a skill set much farther than of his age. He’s a bit cute as well, with a shy sort of persona that usually had people awing for him through his sophomore year, and it still hasn’t gotten out of your mind even after a year. He is, after all, a fantastic 200 yard racer, being able to snatch a medal at almost every meet.

Adding another swimmer to the team is common, but something tells you that the case of this boy walking through the halls of your school might make him a bit more than just another person joining the team. The aura he gave off, startling everyone in his way with nothing more than a simple walk down the hallway—it’s nothing, but it seems like much more than that. Perhaps, you’d even get to learn his name one day.

You snap out of your daydream with a smack from Ryujin, the girl nagging at you to hurry up; your hand grazes past the lock on your locker, filling in the combination before tugging violently at the metal until it gives away. Instinctively, you reach your hand in blindly for your books, but there’s a fluttering feeling on your arm as you glance back, confused. A neat envelope had fallen from above, probably having been stuffed into the top not too long ago, and a questioning hum leaves you.

“What’s this?” You say to yourself, mumbling underneath your breath as you turn it over in your hand, your finger tracing over the colorful washi tape placed on the borders. It’s decorated with stickers, all the way until your name is written in a bright blue. The last letter of your name branches off into a flower, one that leads all the way to the back, where there’s a stick over the flap that reads ‘open here’ in small font.

Might as well read it now.

dear y/n love,

i hope you’ve received this safely, and if you haven’t, i genuinely apologize! i’d say it’s not my wrongdoing, which of course it is, but you also have no clue who i am! hopefully. unless you saw me put this in your locker, but i really hope you didn’t. i’d be quite embarrassed if you did, so please just maybe, don’t tell anyone if you did? yeah, thank you in advance.

anyway, hi! i’ll call myself jay for the time being. hmm, just so i can stay anonymous! i wouldn’t want to reveal myself to you just yet. or hopefully, not at all, but i think i’ll eventually open up to the idea of confessing. oh, yeah, sorry i didn’t mention. i’m jay and i’m in love with you.

okay, that sounds pretty aggressive and a little arrogant but i promise i’m not!!! i just don’t have any extra letter paper to write on or else i wouldn’t even be writing the rest of this. okay, okay, i’m sorry. back to the main point. so, i guess you can call me your secret admirer or whatever, but anyway, i like you. like more than a friend, like you, but i’m too scared to tell you so therefore, here we are. expect to hear from me in the near future ;)

signed, jay

[sandu-zidian]

Blabbing about this Musician!au I started last summer that has now also turned into a marching band!au because I got sad and nostalgic because despite how shitty it could be, marching band defined my high school life and social life and I couldn’t had asked for anything else.

I also don’t have every single prequel character (because this au is surrounding the prequel characters) in Star Wars smacked into here, and I gave up halfway through a couple of months ago in terms of brainstorming. Anyways, this is hella long so check everything out under the line if you’d like! don’t want to spam everyone with something that’s like, 4 pages long

Now, you might be asking. What instruments are these characters playing, or what are they doing in marching band? well, boy oh boy do I have some lore for you.

Anakin Skywalker: alright lets start of with the “Chosen One”. Now, I gotta say. He’s got some intense brass vibes, specifically high brass. But I don’t know. He didn’t really mesh well. And given his natural talent with the Force in canon, I thought that Anakin would be a sort of prodigy. And we all know the two instruments associated with that: the piano and violin. He’s more of a piano dude, so here we go! piano prodigy Anakin Skywalker. He also gives mad drumline vibes, and I can see him as either the lead snare, setting the tempo, or the main quad player. He’s brash, slightly obnoxious, but damn is he fucking good at what he does.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: I literally started this AU on the idea that Obi-Wan would play the cello. One of the defining quotes for him is that fucking “infinite sadness” quote. And we all know that cellos play some of the saddest pieces out there. (see: Elgar cello concerto) However, I can’t see him as a marching band dude. He doesn’t really give off color guard vibes (since that’s where most non-band people go to) so I have him as the resident student helper who everyone tolerates because he brings ice cream after band camp.

Ahsoka Tano: Ahsoka is a flute player. As a flute player, I have intimate knowledge on this. She’s like the chill flute player who’s competitive enough to keep her position as principal, but is also chill enough to not have a big ego that butts heads with everyone. She also gives mad color guard vibes. Also speaking about that from personal experience (am I lowkey projecting my own experiences on her? you didn’t hear that from me). She seems like the type to love swing flags and sabre, and is 100% captain by senior year.

I have Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka as siblings in this AU because I say so. Qui-Gon is around here somewhere as the resident hippie dad who lowkey smokes pot and will support his children while giving a big ‘fuck you’ to Dooku. 

Yoda’s also in here somewhere, and I love the idea that he’s an old Chinese/Asian man who refuses to speak english and will only do so with the most backwards grammar so his grandchild (Qui-Gon) and great-grandchildren (the trio) are forced to speak Mandarin/Cantonese to him (pick your poison). He just spends his days cutting up fruit and also might pull out his erhu if everyone asks nice enough. (I want to say he was a Peking Opera musician, but immigrated during Mao’s reign after he lost opportunities during the cultural revolution)

So, I know that it doesn’t make sense for a family to have 3 sets of twins and one triplet set, but fuck that I do what I want.

Cody Fett: okay so, Cody 100% plays the french horn. I don’t know, he just, he does. He’s got that air of sophistication because he can play the hardest brass instrument, but at the same time, he’s incredibly good at it and is matter-of-fact about it. He also would be the mello section leader (I was playing with the idea of drum major, but for now, leaving him as a section leader for now). He’s a bit uptight to be a low brass player, but cool enough to still be associated with the general brass group.

Rex Fett: I got Rex and Cody as the eldest Fett twins. Rex feels like a string player, so I have him on violin. I can see him be very hardworking and practicing diligently to the point where he easily sweeps through to concertmaster in high school and the local youth orchestra. He also gives of mad drum major vibes. I can see him copying music, handing out drill charts, and hauling the met around. Also, just think about Rex doing a fancy ass salute at competitions. Yes.

Next round of twins lets gooo

Jesse Fett: You could say Jesse has brass vibes. I see him as a reed person though. In concert band, he’s on clarinet. I used to think clarinets were as stuck up as us flutes but no they’re literally balls of chaotic energy ready to be unleashed. Just imagine Jesse blaming everything on his reed. I see him as the guy who switches to saxophone for marching band, though. He’s got the energy of the clarinet and the saxophone harnessed. Also, wouldn’t be surprised if he knows how to play the sousa.

Kix Fett: Y’know, when I originally made this AU, I had Kix as a musician as well. I’m gonna scratch that. He’s going to medical school, or at least, he’s planning to. He’s on the pre-med track and is dying in organic chemistry and wishes there weren’t so many pre-requisites. However, in high school, he definitely played the oboe. Of course Kix chose one of the hardest instruments to play. Also, just imagine him trying to make his own reeds. I don’t see him as a guy who’s in marching band. He’ll come to competitions and maybe football games if he’s bullied into it. Kix is the guy who’s classes are all AP and he’s dying inside.

Next round of twins yeet:

Fives Fett: shit, I forgot I gave them all real names. If I remember correctly, Fives is Frank. Anyways, trumpet vibes. Need I say more? He’s on the trumpet in marching band as well and he’s the dude who’s obsessed with DCI and always tries to play as high as he possibly can and absolutely demolishes his chops. I would say he’s section leader as well. He also hangs with the drumline at the back of the bus and always plays meme songs on blast and sends weird pictures to people’s phone via open airdrop.

Echo Fett: I think his birth name is Ethan??? I’m spitting thoughts not checking my old documents. Anyways. Echo feels like a string person. Specifically, low strings. So, he plays the bass. Upright bass. Whatever. You get what I mean. He sleeps in the case after school and hates hauling it everywhere. He was in marching band as a mello player (the easiest brass instrument to pick up for the activity so) but he was in a car crash that left him paralyzed from the hip down, and had to quit to recover. He never stopped playing, and found ways to adjust. (I do not know how exactly this would work, since I’m able bodied and also don’t play the bass, but I know he’d at least have a stool to sit on in order to lean his body on. let me know if you have other ideas i’d love to hear them!)

Finally, we got the triplets:

Dogma Fett: Dogma plays the bassoon. He’s a low reed kinda guy and between the bari sax, bass clarinet, and bassoon, he fits the last one the best. He and Kix moan over making reeds and he’s on the quieter side. He just vibes and plays all the low notes and has fun whenever he’s got some moving part. I see Dogma as someone who is only casually into marching band. He uses Jesse’s old student clarinet as his instrument and he’s always on time, knows his sets, and his technique is on point. He always finds himself roped into his brothers’ shenanigans though.

Tup Fett: Tup plays the harp. I like to think he met Shaak Ti (we’ll get to her in a bit) when he was young, and she was playing with an orchestra. He met her backstage and she offered to give him lessons. Tup’s not really a part of high school orchestra but sometimes he’ll be brought in. He’s more involved with solo work and the youth orchestra more than anything. Tup’s another on where I don’t think he’d be into marching band. Though I can see him being in winter guard as the dude who just shows up and is lowkey rip and therefore is a hunk on the rifle. His technique’s good but they’ve never been able to saddle him into fall guard.

Hardcase Fett: (i’ve given up on remembering the birth names so i’m just gonna not) Hardcase is 100% low brass vibes. He can’t be anything but a low brass. I see him as a tuba player. He’s chill, laid back, but also reliable for being the foundation of the band sound. He plays the sousaphone in marching band and always blasts either Seven Nation Army or some other popular show tune right after rehearsals. Hardcase also can play the bari sax and no one knows when he learned how to. 

OKAY we’re done with the Fett’s! Jango and Boba are in here somewhere but honestly I don’t have enough brainpower to come up with what their roles are. Jango’s gonna be a good dad though. Maybe he was a musician and that’s why most of his kids are going into music. Or maybe he’s just a supportive father. Boba’s the youngest though, that’s for sure. And he’s a little shit. Don’t know if he plays an instrument (probably) or what it might be.

Now lets get into some other characters! There’s a lot. And I wasn’t even halfway done with the characters I wanted to include. What the hell was I on last summer?

Padmé Amidala: Padmé is a flute player who quit after freshman year of high school and started taking music production and music theory classes. She loved it so much that she decided that composing was her jam. Now, she’s highly successful and often works with well known pianist, Anakin Skywalker, on piano concertos. Also, she may or may not be dating said pianists but you didn’t hear that from me.

Satine Kryze: twosetters don’t shit on me but Satine feels like she’d play the viola. She and Obi-Obi-Wan definitely dated in high school but after a year broke up on mutual terms and are just good friends now. A lot of people feel like she’d have been a better political science/international studies major than a music major but she’s good so no one complains (until she gets into a fighting match with someone and wins smugly)

Bo-Katan Kryze: shes Satine’s younger sister and is a mad athlete. She doesn’t play any instruments but she’s deeply active and is on scholarship for college, on the pre-med track with Kix. She’s very scary and most people are too intimidated by her to approach.

Plo Koon: I originally had him as an asian man, but I can see Native American as well. He plays the euphonium and he’s just a sweet man. He helps out a lot with private lessons at local high schools and is often brought in to help with low brass during marching band.

Wolffe Koon: Wolffe and Gregor (get to him in a bit) were both adopted by Plo when their parents died when they were very young. Plo was their godfather and he took them in like they were his own. They’re cousins to the Fett brothers (though don’t ask me how I have no idea). Wolffe is an engineer and works close to home.

Gregor Koon: Gregor is Wolffe’s younger brother and had a short stint of musical interest in middle school but quit after he entered high school. Gregor was in a serious car crash during college that left him amnesiac for a year before some of his memories returned. He now owns a restaurant and sticks close to home. Wolffe often comes around to check up on him because his brain injury still impacts his current life in small physical and emotional dips

Kit Fisto: Kit gives off mad trombone vibes and it’s mostly because he seems incredibly laid back. He’s one of those brass players who’s just a nice guy and while jokes around, never got pulled into jokes as a student.

Shaak Ti: like I said above, Shaak Ti is most definitely a harpist. She has that ethereal quality I think is common in harpists. She’s a tall Indian woman and she loves her job! She’s a private lesson teacher and instructor at the conservatory on top of her job in the orchestra since she’s not called in often to play. She loves all her students and gives good hugs.

Mace Windu: Mace is the director of the Jedi Symphony, the orchestra which almost everyone is involved with. He is a bass player and he likes his more classical pieces over contemporary music. He’s good friends with Yoda and sometimes the old troll has to wack some sense into Windu and have him take on newer pieces. Windu 100% gives off unhinged director vibes because mistakes and lazy musicians definitely don’t end after high school/college is over.

Quinlan Vos: this lil shithead definitely is the obnoxious, slightly arrogant, but kind of deserving of that, percussionist. He loves his snare drum and is also in the drumline. He’s the same age as Obi-Wan and the two are close friends. Quinlan is definitely slightly unhinged and is always at the back of the bus causing havoc after competitions. He’s the guy that I (OP) hate but also can’t help but respect cuz yeah he’s annoying but at least he’s good.

Aayla Secura: Aayla is Quinn’s half-sister, and plays the French horn. Again, like Cody, she’s got this air of professionalism that I associate with French horn players and like, we gotta represent the girls in brass somehow. She just fits it really nicely.

I feel like now is the time to list who’s still in conservatory and who isn’t: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody, Jesse, Quinlan, Padmé, and Satine are all recent graduates. Ahsoka, Aayla, Fives, Echo, Tup, Dogma, and Hardcase are still in conservatory (at varying years of course). Kix and Bo are entering med school/frantically applying and banging their heads cuz MCATs. Wolffe and Gregor are older and have been in the field for quite some time now. Plo, Kit, Shaak, and Mace are all faculty/seasoned professionals.

Somehow, I was gonna bring in The Skiratas (with proper research cuz I know very little about them), Dooku, Ventress, the Oppress siblings, rest of Domino Squad, Cut Lawquene, the other CCs, and more. I designated a page out of my sketchbook for this and my oh my the flow chart was hella confusing. How I thought I was gonna handle that in the summer before my first year of college, I have no idea. Maybe I’ll brainstorm more in the future but for now, this is all I have :]]]

Also excuse some of my slightly unhinged language I started writing this a few days ago while slightly unfocused and tired and stressed so my language is a product of that

[ethannku]

pjo as band kids

 a few headcanons that didn’t really need to exist... but i couldn’t get it out of my head. i have the seven plus reyna, nico and will in this post, and it became super long so there’s a cut haha. 

percy: plays the euphonium but only because he was banned from the tuba when he immediately blasted it when they were allowed to try all the instruments in like middle school. he was actually only allowed on mellophone and trumpet up until sophomore year, but he promised that he would be good so the band director let him play euph. blasting aside, percy is actually pretty good at euph. he isn’t the best or anything, but he manages to place in the middle at chair placements and all-state tryouts. during marching season he marches snare, just because they are the loudest things on the field. he’s also the main supplier of chaotic energy in the band, and his band bus is always the rowdiest.

jason: plays the trumpet likes its made for him. everyone would hate his guts for how prodigal he is except that he’s super nice and offers free “clinics” to new people. he is a drum major in junior and senior year, too, which definitely adds to his prodigal status. at a trumpet clinic he once made the clinician cry because of how well he played a lyrical etude, and he’s basically a living legend for it. 

annabeth: plays clarinet and bass clarinet, and doesn’t really have a preference between them. she also plays oboe and flute in her free time (which is to say she sandwiches practice time between studying for APs). annabeth has never not been first chair clarinet, ever since she first picked up the instrument in middle school. she’s also one of the few five year all-staters at their school, having gone every year since eighth grade. of course, annabeth is a drum major, and if you asked her she would say it’s because it buffs up her college resume, but really she just loves being in charge.

piper: plays the flute, and spins color guard for marching season. her playing skills are pretty good, and she’s normally in the top four chairs. first chair flips between her and nico, though. in color guard, her main specialty is flag, but that’s only because she prefers it to rifle, not because she’s bad at it. she is probably the laziest member of the color guard, but she can dance like no one’s business, so she often gets dance solos to start of each marching show.

leo: plays the saxophone. pretty much all he plays is careless whisper. people have no idea how he’s in the top band, except that he is somehow amazing at sight-reading. like jason, no one can really hate him because he is really funny and nice, and he helps out other kids with technique practice. he also has no idea how he makes it into the top band every year. he ran for prom king as a gag in senior year, but all the band kids swarmed the poll stations and he won.

hazel: plays oboe, and spins color guard for marching season. hazel is a weapons specialist, along with reyna. she actually started out directly on rifle after she showed interest in it, so her flag skills are abysmal. she can throw singles and doubles, of course, but her technique isn’t as crisp as it is on rifle and saber. hazel is the more approachable one between her and reyna, so she helps out new color guard members or people who are interested in spinning weapon line. 

frank: everyone assumes he plays the sousaphone when they see him, but poor guy just wants to play marimbas in peace. he’s in front ensemble during marching season, playing the marimbas. timpani and marimba are his mains during concert season. frank is a drum major, something that he applied for as a “i can say i tried” thing, but then he actually got it and he was super shocked. the rest of the band wasn’t, though, because frank always brings extra water and snacks for people during band camp, and if anyone has to run penalty laps he is right there running along with them. 

nico: he plays flute. his dad was a classical pianist and made him pick out an instrument to play when he was super young, so nico chose the flute because it was super shiny and the keys felt super nice. he’s been playing his instrument the longest out of everyone in the band, so it’s really no surprise that he’s been first chair for all four years. like annabeth, he is a five year all-stater, though he really doesn’t like competing; he just likes playing and making beautiful sounds. he somehow gets roped into color guard because he was told that it would be easier than marching band, and whoever told him that lied because it was a lot harder. but they got more breaks, so it kind of evened out. plus it got him a boyfriend and he actually enjoys rifle and flag so. a win.

will: color guard captain. he isn’t the best at rifle, that would be reyna and hazel, but he is the most well-rounded member of the guard. will runs a pretty tight ship during rehearsals, but after rehearsals he’s really laid back. he often arrives early to rehearsals to run the material a few times, and he stays late to help out others or to practice more. he leads the band through warm up and does a lot of hyping up too, so most of the band knows him, and a lot of the time people will join the guard just to get to know him or because of his energy. will’s charismatic enough that they actually stay.

reyna: absolutely brutal weapons specialist. reyna was out throwing quads and fives in her freshman year, and she just grew and grew after that. she often has rifle solos in marching shows, and whole rifle passages during winter guard. she’s actually in orchestra during concert season, she plays the violin, but she happened to see a football game once in middle school and she fell in love with the people spinning the guns. her name is known around the state from marching band and winter guard comps, and she often gets people from other schools telling her they want to be like her. she’s flattered, but she just wants to throw guns and swords in the air. she doesn’t get the hype.

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (2)

part 2 is already here! fun fact, I’ve actually written like 16 chapters and I probs won’t always be posting weekly but I really wanted to put out part 2 sooooo... yeah. The Tom Holland x reader high school AU continues

Story Masterlist

Warnings: mild language

Word Count: 2365 (shorter than before, I know)

% approximately 1st week of September %

The next week had been relatively uneventful. Mrs. Flynn gave you both an A on your budget for the first week.

She also drew the next weekly condition, which for you was a $300 doctor’s visit of one family member.

“Well that’s stupid. If this were real life, we wouldn’t even need to take our kids to the doctor as PA’s,” Tom argued.

“First off, it’s not real life, and secondly, what if the kid broke a bone? Who’s gonna cast it, genius?”

“Well we probably wouldn’t have to pay,” he grumbled

When Friday afternoon hit, you were almost disappointed to see Tom not in the stands for your game, but remembered that the team had to start all their pregame rituals a couple hours before kickoff.

After crushing the competition, you took a quick shower and put on the shirt every senior was supposed to wear and walked to the field, where some of your friends had already claimed a spot on the bleachers. 

It was still a half hour before kickoff, so you talked as they helped put paint streaks on your cheeks and tie ribbons in your hair to show school spirit. You also watched the boys run drills until they were called to the sidelines for the national anthem. 

The team captains met for the coin toss, and as Tom and his co captain headed back to the team huddle, Tom spotted you in the crowd and pointed directly at you.

You didn’t know what he was doing so you quickly flipped him off and went back to your conversation.

They ended up winning the game by a field goal, and true to his word, Tom had actually played pretty well, aside from getting sacked towards the end of the game. 

You and the girls, not yet wanting to go home, hung out in the parking lot as families left.

“Hey, look. It’s your husband,” Alexis pointed out as Tom and a couple other players came limping down the lot with bags in tow. They were still wearing their football pants but had removed their jerseys, leaving on sleeveless compression shirts.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. But I will say, his mom already loves me. We’re on a first name basis.”

She gave you a little low-five out of pride.

You couldn’t help but notice Tom pull the necklace out from under his shirt’s collar, the ring still attached.

Did he wear that the whole game?

He spotted you from a few yards away and yelled out,

“Hey hey hey. What did I tell you? Swooning yet?” he held his arms out as if to show he was right.

“Not quite, bub. But I’ll give you that touchdown pass. Don’t forget we have to work on the budget tomorrow!”

“Yeah yeah, see you then, princess.” He waved a hand as he continued on to his car.

Ugh. Princess.

Tom had been calling you that ever since the time freshman year you were the leading princess in a school play. 

You had hated the role for many reasons. 

For one, the character had no development and was basically dumb and defenseless (aka the exact opposite of you and everything you stood for). On top of that, the costumes were hideous, and what should have been a couple of pretty ballgowns and flowing skirts ended up being completely unflattering in color, shape, and style.

Everyone knew you hated it, and Tom loved to rub that in your face.

Eventually, you decided to retire home for the night since you had had such a taxing day.

%

You rang the Holland’s doorbell again, and this time it was opened by Tom’s youngest brother, Paddy. He was in the 5th grade, so you didn’t know him well. 

A perfect opportunity to make a good impression.

“Hey there, Paddy. Is Tom around? We’re supposed to work on our project today.”

“I’m not sure where he is, but I’m sure I can find him. Come on in.”

“Oh thank you. So polite.”

He sheepishly looked down as his face reddened. 

“I’ll be right back.”

He ran to the stairs and disappeared up them. A few minutes later an exhausted looking Tom appeared at the top of the stairs next to his brother.

“Come on up, I need to take a piss before we get started.” he called down, ever the charmer. He rubbed his eyes. He was only wearing a pair of sweats.

You followed his word and sat down on his bedroom floor, pulling up the documents on your computer as you waited. He came back wearing a shirt, a mug of coffee in hand.

“Want some? I made it fresh. I just woke up if you couldn’t tell.”

“No thanks. I don’t drink coffee, I find it disgusting. Caffeine addiction’s bad for you anyways.”

He looked down at the drink and back at you.

“Well we can’t all be perfect little princesses.”

You wanted to slap him, but just fired back with an insult and got to work. There wasn’t as much to do today other than reallocate the funds for the appointment and make up a story of what could have happened.

You both laid on your stomachs looking at the screen. As you typed, you heard heavy breathing and glanced over to see Tom had fallen back asleep.

Wow. He almost looks nice when he’s sleeping. What a disappointment.

You finished your paragraph and shook him awake.

“Ugh. sorry. I told you I’m a mess after game days.”

He went to push up to a sitting position when he winced, inhaling sharply. He put his head back on the ground.

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just pulled a muscle in my back last night. I think it’s from that sack.”

“Do you need me to get you something? LIke icy hot or some advil? I carry both at all times.”

“Icy hot would be perfect. I already took some painkillers.”

You shifted up and grabbed your backpack, pulling out the tube. You tossed it next to him to use.

“I hate to ask this, because you’re you, but could you put it on for me? I don’t think I can reach.”

You hesitated, but agreed since you knew what it felt like to be in pain like that. 

“Okay. Give me a general idea of where it is and I’ll poke around to find it.”

“Just under my shoulder blades on the right.”

He pulled up his shirt and you went to touch his back lightly. He flinched when your fingers graced his skin.

“Oh yeah, my hands are cold by the way.”

“No shit.”

You put your hand back, pressing lightly until he winced again, then you put a small amount of the ointment on your hand, massaging it in.

 You rhythmically rubbed your hand over the area in little circles, trying to loosen the tight muscle with your palm. You didn’t think much about it until he let out a moan, and you pulled your hand back like he was on fire.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry. It just felt so good on that spot and it just slipped out-”

“Let’s just agree to never mention this again. I’m gonna go wash my hands. And hopefully my brain while I’m at it. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Just across the hall. Can’t miss it.”

A little bit later and you were finally done for the day, so you helped Tom up and again packed your things.

“Sorry again about earlier. Thanks, though. It really helped.”

“Like I said, we don’t need to talk about it. Just never make that sound again, please. See you Monday.”

And with that you were out the door.

%

Another week, and Mrs. Flynn gave you another A and a budget condition.

Both you and Tom again won at your respective sporting events, and you again went to Tom’s.

Throughout the week, you and Tom had been on your usual game, firing shots. But at home it was like he was a different person. Sure you still jabbed at each other occasionally, but there was a more friendly aspect to it this week.

You were sitting on the floor when you felt a familiar pain in your lower abdomen.

You ignored it for a minute, but then it hit twice as strong. Immediately you shot up.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” you stated, speaking quickly.

“Uh. Okay?”

You rushed in and as you sat down pulled up your period tracker app. 

You weren’t supposed to start for 4 more days.

Well that’s a lie you thought as you caught a streak of red upon wiping.

You dug through the under-sink cabinet, hoping and praying to find something, anything you could use. When that came up dry, you just stuffed up some toilet paper and resigned to getting a tampon from your backpack.

A sense of panic filled your chest, however, when you realized the little bag you kept with extra supplies was nowhere to be found. That’s when you remembered that you had taken it out to replenish and apparently never put it back.

“Oh no. Oh no no no!”

There wasn’t even a single liner at the bottom of the bag.

“What’s got you in a tiff, princess? Don’t we have everything we need already?”

You sighed. You weren’t one to announce when you were on your period, since guys liked to believe that all women become bitches when they bleed. But you were desperate.

“Look, I know you’re gonna make fun of me, but I just started my period and don’t have anything to deal with it and I don’t know what to do.”

“Can’t you just hold it?”

“Ha ha good one. Seriously though I don’t know what I’m gonna do. If I don’t figure out something fast, I’ll bleed through my pants.”

Tom looked at you confused.

“Wait a second,” you started. “You weren’t serious right then, right? Like you do know it’s something women can’t control?”

“WHAT?” he exclaimed. “You can’t?”

“You know, for someone who calls himself so smart you sure are a dumbass. How do you know nothing about periods? You play football, haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”

He got quiet.

“No. I’m too busy competing with you that when I do get free time, everyone gets really intimidated by you.”

“Oh... “ you didn’t know what to say, but then a cramp hit you like a ton of bricks and you doubled over. “Ugh. could you just go get your mom? I need to go back to the bathroom and try not to throw up.”

Eventually, Nikki came and left some midol, tampons, and a heating pad for you and you were able to go back to Tom’s room, finding him leaning against his bed. He sat up straight when you walked in.

“Are- are you okay? You seemed to be in a lot of pain earlier.”

You plugged in the heating pad and turned it on, laying down on your back so you could drape it across your stomach. The midol hadn’t yet kicked in.

“Yeah, I’m good. It was early this month and I just wasn’t prepared,” you said staring at the ceiling, but turned your head to look at him. 

“Sorry if what I said was insensitive. I just figured you knew more about it than the average guy and I was so panicked that I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ve never had a boyfriend either. Same situation.”

“Hah, nerd.” 

You rolled your eyes and threw a nearby pillow at him. 

“Like you have room to talk. Now let’s just finish this so I can go home and take a nap.”

%

When you got to home ec Monday, you hadn’t spoken to Tom since leaving his house Saturday. Frankly, you were embarrassed about the situation still and figured he felt awkward too. 

Then, of course, you learned that Mrs. Flynn had decided to throw the class a curveball to tie the marriage project into regular class assignments.

For a unit on sewing, she was making each couple work together to make a small “marriage quilt” approximately the size of a baby blanket. Partners would have to work together to choose the colors, make a design, and sew it together within 2 weeks in class.

So there you were, sitting in the back corner of the room discussing design options and drawing up a pattern with Tom.

Upon realizing you both loved blue, you decided to make a blue based quilt. There would be little teal and pink accents as well in a couple of the fabrics you chose.

You sat in silence as you both cut small squares of fabric and batting. Other groups were talking, but things still felt heavy.

“Hey, uh. About Saturday…” Tom began quietly from the right of you.

“Please don’t bring it up. Everything turned out fine so let’s just keep it that way. I don’t need you to embarrass me more.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… what you said got me thinking. I know about all kinds of stuff and I’d like to go into medicine one day, but I know nothing about women’s health. So, I spent a good portion of yesterday researching and honestly, I had no idea how much you all go through. We may hate each other, but I respect you a lot more than before.”

“Oh. Wow. You know, I’m sure you read about it yesterday, but it’s super different for everyone. I wouldn’t even consider mine nearly as bad to some peoples’. But that’s really nice of you. And just because we hate each other doesn’t mean I won’t offer to let you ask me questions whenever. Education is way more important than any rivalry.” 

He smiled slightly and looked down at his desk, then back up, putting out his left fist. 

“Is a fist bump a good enough agreement to let each other ask any kinds of questions like that, no malice intended?” he asked.

You smiled back and hit your right fist to his left one. Eventually you went back to your normal arguing, but you couldn’t stop replaying the scene in your head.

%

A/N: thanks for reading guys! I’m so so busy with school right now that it’s going to be hard to release chapters weekly but I am trying to keep a somewhat regular upload schedule! I’ve written about 16 chapters so I have a lot of content to share already and there’s still more before I finish. As always, I can’t reply to post replies but my messages and asks are always open! 

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06

[hinac0lada]

PILOT 1.5

|◁ previous: pilot 1.0  | masterlist  | next: ep 1  ▷|

INTRO TO LOVE SCENARIO CAST AND PLAYLIST:

welcome to love scenario!  where in you will encounter 6 different scenarios, and 6 different male leads. no, you are not dreaming, this is indeed real life darling! lucky you, 6 men fighting for your heart, but which one will you choose?

 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

ALEX’S NOTE: a little more in depth introduction for the whole cast! get to know the cast of love scenario !

RISS’ NOTE: had to split the pilot in two parts because it would’ve been way too long ahihi

[ more under the cut ! ]

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INTRO: LOVE ME -- IKON

'DO YOU NOT LOVE ME? BECAUSE I'M SHORT?

DO YOU NOT LIKE ME? BECAUSE I'M NOT HANDSOME?'

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L/N Y/N

INDIGO — NIKI

'YOU KNOW I'M YOUR TYPE, RIGHT?'

paradise creek's popular girl, student council's vice president and captain of paradise creek women's volleyball team. her kindness and contagious smiles captured the hearts of her fellow students. one bat of her eyes, and before you know it, you're under her spell of charms. despite constantly being surrounded by her admirers, she is very approachable and would be glad to help you with anything! but do not abuse her benevolence, she is not one to be messed with! her leadership and athletic abilities will sends shivers down her opponent's spines.

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TERUSHIMA YUUJI

TEXT ME — DPR LIVE

'SOS GIRL TEXT ME WHEN YOU WANT'

 paradise creek's bad boy. has a flock of girl's drooling over his playful smirks and astonishing looks, oh, and we couldn't forget the piercings that adds to his appeal. every girl attempts to be the good girl who changes the bad boy's ways, but none ever succeeds. he has no interest in such a thing called love. hardly ever in class to some extent, that you forget that he's even your classmate. but he is shockingly intelligent, thriving in all subjects despite his countless absences and tardiness.

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KUROO TETSUROU

IS YOU DOWN — DPR LIVE

'DOWN TO TAKE IT FURTHER THAN YOU'VE EVER TOOK IT'

 the provocative and scheming captain of paradise creek men's volleyball team. his unique hairdo and witty remarks never failing to pique every female's interest. do not be misled by his sex appeal though! he is an actual dork despite that facade of his. likes to engage in a battle of wits with the girl's volleyball captain. in spite of the never ending back and forth between the two, he never backs down from a challenge.

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AKAASHI KEIJI

LOVER BOY — PHUM VIPHURIT

'CALL ME LOVER BOY'

 the president of paradise creek’s student council and the local pretty boy. you thanked the heavens when you were his seatmate in a lecture. he was a smart kid indeed and would constantly teach things that you didn't understand without needing something in return. ever so the tranquil male he is, he fails to realize those in tangent around him. from the chocolates and snacks left at his desk, to the girls almost fainting at the sight of him as he walks down the campus halls. he was completely clueless as to how his looks had a big impact on a person.

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OIKAWA TOORU

WOMAN — HARRY STYLES

'THIS THING UPON ME HOWLS LIKE A BEAST,

YOU FLOWER, YOU FEAST'

paradise creek's heartthrob. he was definitely your typical debonair pretty face. from his luscious looks, to his impeccable skills in volleyball—it's either you want to be with him, or you want to be like him. although, his captivating smiles and flirtatious ways never seemed to faze the school's popular girl despite constantly being shipped with the heartthrob. she thinks he's just being nice—who wouldn't blame her though? he flirts with almost everyone. but he will never give up in pursuing her! regardless of her obliviousness to his feelings.

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IWAIZUMI HAJIME

BEST FRIEND — REX ORANGE COUNTY

'I STILL WANNA BE YOUR FAVORITE BOY'

 y/n's childhood best friend and personal bodyguard that protects her from creepy admirers and would beat the living daylights out of oikawa. a known fact is that the whole population lowkey has a crush on him, although none would ever have the guts to confess because of his intimidating demeanor. though once you get to know him, he's a sweetheart under all that muscle. he would constantly hang out with y/n to the point where people think they were dating, as if platonic relationships weren't a thing, is what he thought.

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KAGEYAMA TOBIO

OUTRO: HER — BTS

'I CALL YOU HER, HER

CAUSE YOU'RE MY TEAR, TEAR'

that awkward, cute sophomore that basically lives and breathes in milk. ever since y/n was assigned as his tour guide during his first day as a freshman, the two have been close ever since. ever so the socially awkward teen that he is— although he would never admit it, he appreciates his senior's effort to help him with anything regardless of his incapability with talking to girls. would constantly avoid oikawa and his taunting at all costs, as the two have personal vendettas against each other for no apparent reason.

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MIYA ATSUMU

WILD — TROYE SIVAN

'NEVER KNEW LOVING COULD HURT THIS GOOD, IT DRIVES ME WILD'

seacoast private academy's setter that has a smug grin permanently plastered on his face.  he is quite smitten with a certain female in PCA—even though they deny rumors of their relationship. has a strangely large amount of peers in the rival college.

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BONUS CHARACTERS

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SAKUSA KIYOOMI

seacoast private academy’s not so average germaphobe that will literally hyperventilate at the sight of a small particle of dust on his clothes. hates physical contact of any sorts, but makes exceptions. he thinks having feelings is a waste of time. most likely does a better job of keeping half of the  campus tidy and clean.

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SEMI EITA

seacoast's student council vice president. a very ambitious business major that pushes himself to the edge. could constantly be seen training by himself in his free time and after school hours.

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BOKUTO KOTARO

captain of the seacoast private academy men's volleyball team and friendly rivals with kuroo. rumors say you could hear his voice from across the street, chanting the SPA's chant during lunch break. has not heard about the concept of lowering his voice down.

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ENDING SCENE; LOVE SCENARIO — IKON

'THE LOVE SCENARIO WE MADE. NOW THE LIGHTS ARE OFF.

WHEN YOU FLIP THE LAST PAGE, THE CURTAINS WILL QUIETLY FALL.'

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@tobios-queen @bubbleteaa @ushiwakaa @asranomical @from-left-to-write @sosugasweet @pineapplekween @kxgeyamasmilk @veggytaled @nerumiz @taeiliee @kuryusmu @tremendousglitterthing @yakus-yakult @aplexii @baby-boy-taichi @indigohitoshi @kawanisshi @thiccbokuto @miaalattee @wakaitoshi @thechaosoflonging​ @kawanisshi​ 

[jeogiyall]

To The Beat; P.SH

Word count; 12.1k (i have absolutely no self control)

Genre; Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Seonghwa x Reader, Marching Band! AU

Additional; Featured Ateez, Entirely Self Indulgent, Flute Player! Reader

Warnings; Mentioned Sex, Swearing, Suggestive

A/N; so this is one of the more embarrassing things i’ve written,,, we’re just not gonna talk about the fact that i’m both a band kid and a kpop stan!! i’d also like to say that it is based entirely off of my experience with band! yes, we are poor, yes the kids are actually this mean, and yes they are this horny! the bus incident actually happened at my school y’all! band kids r a mess bye- also if u want to know more about marching band please ask me! i love to talk about it!

There were few things that you wanted more than this. Maybe a boyfriend in middle school, or first chair, but looking back even those pale in comparison. The want of those is pathetic compared to how badly you wanted to be woodwind captain your senior year. After being section leader for the flutes you were sure that it would end up how it was meant to, but sometimes even things that aren’t supposed to happen do. Like freshman year when the pit captain got his mallets stuck in the bell of a tuba, or when your newly appointed drum major (Kim Hongjoong, best friend since freshman year and previous woodwind captain/saxophone section leader,) cried on the field after stepping on a moth. Some things just end up wrong.

But here you are, sitting in the cafeteria of your school surrounded by the people you decided to spend all of high school with and feeling as full as ever. Your director's voice boomed, “(Y/n) (L/n,) woodwind captain,’ and you thought that no four words had ever sounded so perfect together. You stood quickly, legs carrying you to the front of the crowded space. People were clapping, as they do every year, but this time it was for you. For your hard work, and dedication, and everything that you’ve put into this program for the past three years. You cast a smile to your band director, heart soaring incredibly high that you don’t think it’ll ever come down.

“Congratulations.” She whispers while giving you a firm handshake. You murmur thank you before taking your place beside Hongjoong.

“We made it.” He slings an arm around your shoulder, using his free hand to pinch your bicep. You smile even wider, something that probably shouldn’t be possible, and open your mouth to respond. 

“Park Seonghwa, brass captain.” The words coming from your band directors mouth erases any thoughts from your head. He stands from his seat in the back of the cafeteria, face taking on a smug smile. You want to kick him. Instead you stand taller, spine pulled so straight that it could crack.

People clap still, but instead of responding gratefully he smirks (Seonghwa is always smirking or grimacing. You’re not sure which you hate more.) Hongjoong turns to you wearing an expression of annoyance. Normally, you would comfort the boy and tell him that it’s whatever. Tell him ‘Who cares about Seonghwa? We’re going to be so good at our jobs that he won’t even exist.’ But he will exist. He will exist, and you care.

“Looking forward you working with you.” He says lowly while extending a hand to you. If it weren’t for your band director watching you would’ve spit on him.

“Likewise.” You respond coldly, taking his hand into yours. The skin is obnoxiously soft, no doubt from his habit of never doing anything.

After a long winded speech from your director, you and Hongjoong return to the table where your friends are. Everyone wears a grimace.

“Does he have to be brass captain?” San complains before pouting his lower lip. If he weren’t obnoxiously drumming his fingers on the table you’d find it cute.

“Why does it matter to you? You're the drumline captain, you don't have to interact with him!” He pouts even more, shoulders shrugging into his ears.

“I’m just like... Sorry for you and Hongjoong.” You sigh at the words while relaxing against your chair. It’s easier said than done, seeing as the chair is far too small and made of cheap plastic.

“Me too, but I’m trying to not count him out. No one succeeds when everyone thinks that they’ll fail, even self righteous assholes.” San snorts, then returns to exchanging banter with Yeosang. You, however, are not as lucky.

Brass and woodwind captains are the people in band who have to work together the most, everyone knows that. Everyone also knows that you and Seonghwa do not get along, a fact that was solidified when he made you take four props to the field by yourself during a competition. He dropped your flute on the way to the field, and caused you to arrive on the field almost two minutes late by refusing to help. You earned a nice time penalty and got yelled at by the director, ever since you and the boy have fought like it was a war.

But maybe this season would be okay. He said he was looking forward to working with you, and he’s not a liar. He might be rude, arrogant, and full of himself. But he’s not a liar, if Seonghwa says something he means it. And sticks to it.

So maybe this won’t be so terrible.

*

Being wrong was hands down your least favorite thing. It was something so rare that you didn’t really have to worry about, but this marching band season seemed to be all about being wrong. Well all about being wrong, and Seonghwa.

The first day of band camp he scolded Jongho, your only flute freshman, for not bringing water. The poor boy looked like he was about to pass out and all Seonghwa could do was tell him to bring some tomorrow. You took him out during lunch break and apologized for your fellow leaders tone deaf behavior. 

But the second week of band camp was when he really started to get under your skin. It was the groups first time marching while playing, and fifth time running a lap for the night. As everyone settled back into place and brought up their instruments Seonghwa mumbled under his breath ‘Maybe if the woodwinds knew their damn music,’ then cut you a painfully pointed glare. No matter how much your brain tried to write the comment off as tired frustration, there was no denying that you wanted to punch him in the jaw. It would probably break him, you’re not sure that you cared.. 

And of course, there’s now. Band camp is over, and now you’re two weeks out from the first competition. Around this time last year was when Hongjoong started up woodwinds sectionals, so you figured you’d do the same. Why try to fix something that isn’t broken and all of that. Unfortunately Seonghwa had the same idea, seeing as he’s standing in front of you and clapping his hands harshly while the block messily executes a visual from your opener.

“Reset,” He barks, hands wiping sweat away from his forehead, “that was messy. We don’t do messy. Let’s go again.” It’s almost scary how regimented he is. Like for a minute you forget that he’s Park Seonghwa of your graduating class, and instead he’s the person that decides whether or not you’re allowed to breathe.

“Seonghwa!” You chirp, trying desperately to keep annoyance from seeping into the lines of your voice, “When will you guys be done? Just wondering, it’ our first sectional today so-”

“First? This is our fourth.” His voice is painstakingly polite, but there’s a smirk spreading across his face and you want to hit him until it hurts. Your teeth bite on the inside of your cheek, which is still pushed up into a smile.

“Yea, first. I just wanted to gauge everyone’s skill set-” you don’t owe him an explanation, you don’t owe him an explanation, “When will you be done?” One of his perfectly shaped brows raises, pink tongue darting to the corner of his mouth. His eyes quickly flick to his block, who are standing still as statues, then back to you.

“We’re staying until rehearsal tonight, you guys can have the gym.” The tone of his voice is back to normal, more commonly known as cold and infuriating. Hatred boils in your gut as you uphold a smile.

“But the gym doesn’t have yard lines. We need yard lines to practice marching, and since you guys seem to be just doing visuals you don’t really need them. I’m sure it would make everyone else happy too.” If looks could kill you’d be dead. Or whatever’s worse than dead, because he’s looking at you as though you’ve spent the last ten minutes trying to strangle him.

“Let me get one thing clear, I do not fucking care what would make everyone else happy. I care about doing my job properly, as you should. If you wanted the field then you should’ve started sectionals earlier, so go to the gym or cancel your sectional. I don’t care, just get off.” You’re left fuming and ready to burst at the seams as he returns the block of brass. 

Later that day you talk to your band director about implementing a sectionals schedule. Something that would be made at the beginning of every week by captains and section leaders then posted in the instrument room. Something that would prevent today from ever happening again, but of course you don’t tell her that.

“That’s a wonderful idea, (y/n!) No one has ever suggested something like that before, nice job!” She smiles approvingly over her desk, hands typing fervently on her keyboard. You thank her, then duck out of the room. It feels wrong to accept her praise when the only reason for it is to piss off Seonghwa.

*

He’s here. It’s your scheduled time to have the field, 3:00 pm on Tuesday, and Seonghwa is here. Seonghwa is here, standing on the front sideline and looking at your group as though you interrupted him.  

“What are you doing?” You demand while stomping up to where he’s leading stretches, “You know I scheduled my sectional for today, you’re in the group chat.” He pulls his right arm across his chest, definitely flexing on purpose. 

“We’ve been having sectionals at this time for three weeks now, I’m not planning on changing it.” If it weren’t for four years of constant arguing you’d think he’s being polite. Everything from the relaxed facial features to his calm voice, but you know that this is always how it starts. A polite tone, quickly turned into sneers and words that taste like poison.

“Well plan on it.” You spit, stepping closer to the boy. He’s surprised by your boldness, so much so that he drops the stretch, “You’re not above the rules, adhere to the schedule and stop being an ass.” His shocked eyes morph into slants, like a tiger about to pounce on its prey.

“I may not be above the rules, but that doesn’t mean that you are the rules.” And there it is, the devilish quirk of his lips. It’s so blood boiling that you think he could be struck down by lightning and you would celebrate

“Oh you piece of-”

“Hey!” He shouts towards the bleachers, where the entire winds section is gathered. The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn’t even notice them leaving, “Did I say that you could leave block?” A bead of sweat rolls down the hollow of his throat, which is definitely not what you focus on as the brass scramble back into place.

“Seonghwa, I’m using the entire field. I’m the person scheduled, so you either have to stay on the front sideline or you have to leave.” He chuckles lowly, then turns to face you. His tongue smooths over the corner of his mouth again, you want to scream.

“I don’t take orders from you-”

“How about we just do the sectional together?” The low brass section leader, Mingi, offers quietly from his corner spot at the back of the block. He’s leaning one elbow on his contra, which is on the ground bell first, and trying desperately to hide his face behind his own hand. All that he manages to hide is his right eye, but it’s certainly an a for effort.

“No.” Seonghwa answers as soon as you sigh, ‘fine.’ His eyes shoot up to meet yours, finally filled with something other than anger or disgust, “Really?” An eyebrow quirks up so hard that it might as well grow into his hairline.

“Well if you’re not going to leave! I have things to get done and you’ve now cut into my sectionals time twice! So if sharing the field is what I have to do to get shit done then fine.” He stares at you in a way that makes you feel small, then shrugs. 

“Fine, get into a block on the back hash.” You’re about to tell the woodwinds to stretch, but when you face the dented bleachers they’re all sitting in a circle with outstretched legs, exchanging laughter and smiles. Whatever Seonghwa took hold of in your stomach releases as your heart swells with pride.

“Woodies!” You call, smile spreading as everyone's eyes shoot up to meet yours, “Join the block!” 

They shout back, “Yes mam!” Which makes you feel painfully old, and painfully happy.

*

The sectional went fine. Well, as fine as it could seeing as two people who nearly killed each other twenty minutes prior lead it. 

“You were bad ass, (y/n!)” Resident bari sax, Yeosang laughs, “I really thought that fire was about to shoot out of your eyes.” 

“I thought fire was about to shoot out of his eyes!” Yunho, the clarinet section leader, adds, “And you just stood there like ‘yea asshole, set me on fire! I can take it!’ No guys, I’m being serious-” All of the previous laughter from your boys halts as Seonghwa enters the room, steely eyes settling on your cluster of woodwinds. His eyes stay there, though you can’t blame him. If two sweaty teenage boys were staring at you like they’d been caught doing something wrong, you would stare back too.

“What?” He asks, the word so sharp that it could cut. Yeosang shakes his head while Yunho finishes putting his instrument away. The latter mumbles something about waiting for you in his car, to which you nod curtly. 

“Okay, well... I’m gonna go.” Yeosang drawls, leaving the instrument room with the bari sax around his neck. You laugh to yourself at the sight of him waddling away, then return to what you’re supposed to be doing.

“You know, whoever holds a sectional is supposed to sweep the instrument room afterwards.” You exhale while moving to retrieve the broom from it’s corner.

“Oh, like you were just now?” He quips, hands moving deftly against his metal padlock. He doesn’t even need a padlock, the band director locks the instrument room door after everyone leaves. It’s just something else that he has to be annoying.

“Maybe it would go faster if you would help me, seeing as you held a sectional too.” They’re normal words, but your throat physically chokes on each syllable. The boy drops his lock, eyes narrowing as they come in contact with you.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t take orders from you?” He takes a step closer, until his crossed arms are brushing against your knuckles. His skin is soft, almost like he waxes. It makes your head pound.

“I guess until I stop asking you to do your job, and not just the part of it that gets you praised.” You continue sweeping, trying desperately to get away from the boy. But of course he picks up on it and follows you.

“I do my job perfectly fine, thank you very much.” You scoff loudly, chin tilting up so that you’re eye to eye with the boy. He smirks.

“Clearly, you don’t.” The tip of his nose brushes yours, then his lips are crashing into you. His lips are crashing into you, and you kind of like it.

It’s an aggressive motion, filled with him gripping onto the collar of your workout shirt and you dropping the broom. The part of you with a brain thinks that you shouldn’t kiss him back, seeing as you hate him and what not, but then he bites your bottom lip and there’s no hope. Anyone would melt at that sensation.

And melt you do, body going limp as he pushes you against the closest wall. You bring up a hand to trace the hollow of his throat, copying the trail of his sweat from earlier. His moan vibrates against your palm and it’s all that you can do to not die right then and there. Pressed against the instrument room wall, in the arms of the boy that you hate.

“What were you saying?” He growls into your ear while pulling you in by the waist. If you were anyone else you’d moan something incoherent and let him keep kissing you with lips that feel like pillows. But you are not anyone else, you are (Y/n.) (Y/n) who is stubborn to a fault.

“That you’re an asshole, who sucks at your job.” He smiles down at you, eyes filled with a certain kind of thunder. A hand wraps around the back of your neck, then slams your mouth onto his. Hot breath hits your cheek as kisses you senseless. As you let him kiss you senseless. He tastes like coconut lip balm. 

“Wrong answer.” The boy exhales before attaching his lips to your jaw. You’re about to argue with him, because you just don’t know what’s good for you, but then your phone starts ringing. Probably Yunho telling you that he needs to get home. You need to as well, but it’s impossible to think about that when Seonghwa is devouring every part of you as if he’s been paid to do so.

“Seonghwa,” You start, but it sounds far too much like a moan so you have to clear your throat before continuing, “Seonghwa! I have to go.” He doesn’t let up, tongue running against the spot where your jaw pokes out.

“I’ll take you home.” His voice comes out rough, like if your hands ran over it they’d come back scraped. It’s almost enough to make you stay, but then there’s the idea of having to tell Yunho that Park Seonghwa is taking you home. That you were making out with Park Seonghwa, and it was so good that you didn’t want to leave so he offered to take you home. The thought of your friends reaction is enough to turn you off.

“No, Seonghwa, I have to go.” You pull his head off of your neck, running one hand through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. It’s sweaty, but doesn’t smell bad which is just infuriating, “Um... Do this again?” He smiles, but this time is a little different. His lips are still in a wicked curve, but his dark eyes have sparkles now. You almost think that he’s going to say something nice.

“You wish.” You want to tell him that he’s right, you do wish. Instead you sigh, push his body away, collect your bag, and leave with his gaze hot on your trail.

*

Seonghwa is still the thought that keeps you up at night with boiling blood. Everything from his evil smirk to the way his eyes always look unbelievably disapproving of everything. He’s infuriating in a way that evades words.

But there’s also other things to keep you up. Like the thought of his soft honey skin touching yours, or the way his throat feels vibrating against your palm. There’s him pushing you against the instrument room wall, but there’s also him yelling at you in front of the entire winds section. The line is slowly starting to blur and you’re not sure whether or not you like it. You are sure of two things, though. You’re sure that when you fall asleep all you can dream about is Seonghwas coconut flavored lips on your skin, softly whispering affirmations of hatred.

And that sometimes, things that aren’t supposed to happen do.

*

Before this season there were few things that you loved more than marching band. Maybe cookie dough ice cream, or speeding through downtown in the passenger seat of Yunhos mom van while Hongjoong and San yelled song lyrics from the backseat. Those were both good things, and the only things that even came close.

But then there’s now. There’s you and Seonghwa getting drunk off of each other while crammed into your school's equipment closet. There’s his soft hands pushing you onto the counter, his sweet lips growling crude words into your ear. There’s him kissing you, and then there’s something else that comes close to marching band.

*

Ever since freshman year your favorite feeling has been the one that you get after rehearsal. The feeling when your instrument comes off your face and pride swells all the way up to your cheeks. When San breaks from his final set next to you and offers up a childish grin, always accompanied by a high five and the words ‘Nice run, captain.’ 

Tonight doesn’t feel like that, tonight feels like your stomach is in the throat. Like the world is tilting and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Nice run captain!” San shouts, yet the words sound so far away. You nod slowly, high-fiving his outstretched hand while your free hand wraps around your own waist, “(Y/n?) Are you okay.” It’s all you can do to flash a thumbs up before falling to the pavement. Everything goes black for three minutes, but when yours eyes slowly open you can hear San curse. That, and also the entire band crowding around you.

You can still hear snippets of what they’re saying, but the thought of responding or comprehending is so exhausting that it could make you pass out all over again. Someone yells to give you space, a small part of you hopes that it’s Seonghwa.

For the record, it is Seonghwa. Seonghwa with furrowed eyebrows and frowning lips. His next words are to San, “Why didn’t you catch her?” 

“I have a drum strapped to my body!” The taller boy shakes his head, setting down his freshly polished instrument and crouching next to your limp body. If you were more coherent you would’ve moved away. Or loved it. You would’ve moved away or loved it.

“(Y/n,) can you hear-”

“Hongjoong, (Y/n) died!” Wooyoung shrieks from across the field, causing actually everyone to flock to you. 

“She didn’t die idiot, just passed out.” Yeosang responds while rushing to help Hongjoong off of his podium. The boy tries to jump the last three steps, which ends just as well as one could imagine. Everyone’s too busy staring at you to even notice.

“I told her that she should’ve eaten lunch!” Your drum major chides, “(Y/n!) (Y/n,) can you hear me?” He’s kneeling down next to you, sandy blonde hair tickling the tip of Seonghwas nose. You don’t even know why Seonghwa is still here, but a small part of you likes that he is. Almost like you two are more than boiling hatred and stolen kisses.

You hold a thumbs up to your friend, it takes every single ounce of your strength. Of all the reactions that you get, Seonghwa sighing in relief is the most satisfying.

“Told you she’s not dead.” Yeosang mutters from where he’s standing over you. Wooyoung sticks his tongue out to the boy, you almost want to laugh at their antics.

“Okay, Yunho is taking care of your field mics and prop. Do you think that you can walk by yourself?” You frown while turning your thumbs up into a hard thumbs down, eliciting a chuckle from your sweet friend. Seonghwa doesn’t laugh though, eyebrows still harshly furrowed while he stares down at your frail body.

“I’ll help her down to the band room.” He offers, causing Honjoongs eyes to go as wide as quarters. Along with Yeosangs, Wooyoungs, Junghos- pretty much anyone who knows anything about either of you, “I-I just don’t have a field job, and I can get Mingi to take my stuff down for me. She needs to get off the field soon, it’s slowing down the clean up.” Hongjoongs eyebrows clench slightly, but he eventually shrugs. You don't know whether to be grateful or to fight him.

But none of those thoughts are in your head as the tall boy scoops you up in his arms bridal style. His usually soft skin is tacky with sweat, yet he smells like fresh pine and spices. You think that it’s not fair that he smells good after a three hour rehearsal.

The last thing that you hear before dozing off against his chest is “You’re an idiot.” It’s whispered into your ear in a tone that almost makes you think that he’s being sweet.

The next time that your eyes open Seonghwa  is propping your body up on the counter in the equipment closet. Something in your chest burns bright red at the memory of what the two of you were doing here after last rehearsal. It consisted of your hair in between his fingers, and bright purple hickeys blossoming on his neck. Now he’s forcing a huge water bottle into your face while trying desperately to hold you up by your shoulder. Considerably less sexy, to say the least. 

“Drink.” He says curtly while handing the see through bottle to you. You accept with a shaky nod, then drink the water like you’ve been in the desert for the past fifteen years. It takes a minute before he manages to pry it away, “Hey! Not too fast you’ll get sick, and stop chewing on my straw!” A dry laugh escapes your lips, head tilting back ever so slightly. You don’t see the way that Seonghwas eyes trail on the hollow of your throat with a gaze so intense that it threatens to burn. 

“Why’d you offer to bring me up?” You croak while reaching for his water bottle once again. He relents with a sigh, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“No reason, just didn’t want you blocking up the clean up. Everyone was so focused on you that nothing was getting done.” His voice is flat, holding no traces of emotion, but you know that there’s something more. There was a reason that he was the first person to fall to his knees next to you. A reason that he scolded San for not catching you, “Don’t overthink things, (Y/n.) And stop chewing on my straw!” He snatched the water bottle away from you once again, causing both of you to laugh softly. 

“Sorry.” You sigh, body relaxing as his soft hand comes to rest against your jaw. It’s a gentle touch, something so foreign in this relationship that you’ve created with your fellow captain, “About your straw, not the overthinking. Not that I was overthinking.” He exhales a short laugh at your witty remark, a signature smirk tugging gently at his lips, “Come on Hwa, just admit that you like me.” He leans in closely to you, hot breath fanning against the place where your neck and jaw meet. 

“Okay,” He exhales, mouth dangerously wet and sweet, “I like you.” The words ricochet against the shell of your ear, teeth tugging against the skin where they’ve imprinted. It feels so good that you could collapse. He pulls away slightly and presses a tender kiss to your temple. You think that while you like when he throws you against a wall and kisses your lips numb, he’s good like this too, “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still hate you.”

And then he leaves you in the musty equipment closet, with nothing except for his water bottle and your burning hot cheeks for company.

*

It happens like this; forty minutes after everyone’s finished clearing off the field. You were putting your flute away into your assigned locker when Seonghwa barged in grumbling about something that you couldn’t understand, then pushed you harshly against the lockers.

“Hwa, wait! I still have my flute, I can’t drop it!” He bounced back at your exclamation, head hanging cutely as he let you finish.

“My bad.” He muttered while reaching into his pants pocket to apply coconut chapstick. The part of you that hated him wanted to gag, but the part of you that kind-of-sort-of-maybe liked him was excited to kiss the taste off. You shut the locker door with a loud slam, then turned on your heel once again to face the tall boy, “Okay?” He questioned with a quirked eyebrow. You nodded eagerly, hands screwing into the collar of his cotton t-shirt.

“Okay.” Then his lips were crashing harshly into yours, hands touching your body with a fever that can’t be measured. You all but collapsed beneath the sensations, “Your diagonal at the end is shit.” He whispers against your needy lips. Instead of responding, you tightly pull on his hair. It’s as if to say ‘Fuck you just follow the form.’ His low groan is a simple answer, ‘Absolutely not.’  

He’s just starting to do that thing that you really like, the thing where he pulls you as close as humanly possible by your waist and the nape of your neck, when a high pitched scream erupts from the instrument room door. Even though it sounds like one of the freshman girls, you both know that it’s Wooyoung without even having to look. 

“Shit!” Seonghwa curses, hands detaching from you so fast that your back collides with the lockers, “Oh gosh, (Y/n) are you-”

“Can’t talk, gotta run see you tomorrow!” You rush in one breath, dashing out of the door and into the band room. Wooyoung is about to walk out of the exit and into the parking lot, the parking lot where Yunho and Yeosang are waiting for you, “Woo, wait up!” You pant, stopping him right at the exit ramp.

“Do you guys do that after every rehearsal?” He questions, eyes blown wide as saucers, “Oh no, is that why we all leave so late? Ew, gosh, gross, gross, gross! That was so gross, like actually the grossest making out I’ve ever seen! It was so weird and hateful, a-and... And weird! I would’ve rather walked in on you guys fucking- nope take that back, I would not have liked to walk in on that. Wait, have you guys-”

“No!” You shout, hands coming to clamp on the frantic boys shoulders. Your eyes check the room while you lower your voice before continuing, “We’ve never done that, it’s just kissing. Weird, hateful, kissing.” He nods, face still twisted up in disgust.

“Why would you do that to yourself? Like, he’s kind of a dick to you.” You sigh heavily and bring up a hand to wipe the lines off of your forehead.

“Yea, but he’s also sweet sometimes. Not to mention like, really good at kissing-” Wooyoung gags dramatically at your answer, you think that if you weren’t so panicked that it would be funny, “Look, just please don’t tell anyone. Especially not my friends, I think that this is supposed to be like... A secret thing? I just want it to stay a thing, and I just know that they’d lose their shit...” You trail off, words turning into nothing but indecipherable noises and flailing hands.

“Why does he want to keep it secret?” Wooyoung asks with an uncharacteristically soft voice. It’s a question that’s been nagging in the back of your mind since last week in the equipment closet, when he softly whispered the affirmation against your sweaty skin, “You’re obviously into each other, so why?” You don’t answer, opting instead to bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you think it might start to bleed, “Maybe ask him about that before you worry about your friends.”

*

It’s late after your thursday rehearsal. You’re pressed flush against the door to the equipment closet, Seonghwas plush lips hot on your throat, when silent tears start to fall down your cheeks. For a moment they remain silent, mixing in perfectly with the whimpers you were letting out just moments ago. But then it hurts too bad to hold in, and you let out a loud sob.

“Jeez, it can’t feel that good.” The boy teases, face falling harshly when he sees tears mixing with your post-rehearsal sweat, “Oh no, oh gosh, was I too mean? I didn’t mean it, you’re really good at marching!  Like-” You wave him away, not wanting to be doted on. While you and Seonghwa have definitely gotten... Closer over the past two weeks, this is certainly overstepping. More than that, it’s like barreling past the line and leaving everything around it crushed.

“It’s not that,” You respond, hands releasing from the fabric of his shirt (a black tank top that perfectly highlights his toned arms.) He wants to tell you that they could stay there, that they could stay wherever you want. So long as it makes you stop crying, “It’s... I don’t know what it is.” The words are flat, clearly a lie. You don’t want to tell him why you’re actually crying, that you think some part of you has actually started to like him. But not just like him as a friend, as someone that you wouldn’t mind spending a day with. More like, someone that you fall asleep to. Someone that could kiss you for days and it would never bore you.

“I, uh, I don’t know-” He doesn’t know what to do, which is painfully clear. You don’t particularly mind that he doesn’t know, just that he’s here. Here for you to hold if you need to. Until he also starts crying, that is, “why are you-”

“Shut up. I just, I cry whenever other people cry!” You cast him a questioning gaze, mind jumping to all the cases where he did not do that.

“That’s so not true, Mingi literally cried two days ago and you laughed at him!” You wipe at your cheeks fervently, hoping that he wouldn’t say anything about the red that was definitely painting your face.

“He cried over DCI! That doesn’t count, I cry for things that matter...” You want to ask what he’s about to say, to tell him that there’s no real reason for you to be crying either. But you don’t, because he’s crying. Sad, crystal tears that paint his sun kissed cheeks, and his arms are open for you, “Can I hug you? I feel weird not doing anything.” 

You don’t say anything, just fall into the open space and inhale sharply. He smells sweet, and feels warm. Not the gross kind of warm that touches every part of you, but the comforting kind. The kind that feels like wearing fuzzy socks and sipping on hot chocolate.

“Don’t feel weird.” You mumble, lips moving softly against the fabric of his tank top, “I-I have to go soon.” He shushes you, hands softly rubbing the line of your shoulder blade.

“Just five more minutes.” It’s almost like a plea, like he needs it too, “You can’t go out crying, they’re gonna think that I did something.” He didn’t... But in a way he did. In a way, he made you fall for him by having lips that taste painfully like coconut. He made you fall for him by kissing like he’s made of fire. He made you fall for him by always smelling like a fall candle.

“You didn’t do anything.” You whisper, but it’s a lie. Because he did do something, something that he doesn’t even know about.

He made you fall for him, which is something that definitely wasn’t supposed to happen.

*

In your freshman year there was an... Incident on the bus (one that consisted of a girl, her boyfriend, and very loud sex) which unfortunately resulted in separate boy-girl buses. Which meant no more sitting with Yunho, no more sharing snacks back and forth with Yeosang, no more geeking out over music with Hongjoong and San, and no more ignoring Seonghwa for hours at a time (a task that you found very satisfying as a meek little freshman. It was clearly before you learned how to argue.)

But then Junior year rolled around, and there were too many girls and not enough boys. Your director said that it would be fine for some girls to switch over, which equated to being back with your friends. The first time that you climbed onto the bus all of your friends cheered, to which you responded with bowing down jokingly.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes harshly, then muttered something that you couldn’t hear. What you could hear, however, was Wooyoung laughing and telling his friend to lighten up. He’d always been so sweet, up until two weeks ago you didn’t understand why he’d be friends with someone like Park Seonghwa. You’re starting to get it now.

“(Y/n!)” San cheers from the back, eyes crinkling into an excited smile. Someone starts clapping, the same way that they always do, and you laugh. Seonghwa claps as well, to which Yeosang shoots him a look that reads ‘what the fuck.’ 

“I’m sorry, the only seat left is next to-” Seonghwa. The only seat left is the aisle chair next to Seonghwa. Yunho’s eyes look apologetic as he tells you, but then there’s Mingi curled up next to him with hot cheetos and a gallon jug of water and you can’t even be mad at him. Even if you still despised Seonghwa, you wouldn’t be mad.

“It’s fine.” You respond quickly, one hand coming up to pinch the boys cheek. He smiles brightly, “Since when have you been friends with Mingi?”

“I guess as long as you’ve been friends with Seonghwa.” The comment is quick, painless. Almost like you could tell him everything and he wouldn’t mind.

“Fair.” You slide down comfortably into the seat with Seonghwa, pulling a pack of dried apple slices and sour gummy worms from the stuffed book bag around your shoulders, “Hey.” The word is tiny, almost a whisper.

“Hi, love the snack selection...” He opens up the bag of apple slices, popping one into his mouth before offering them back to you, “Good to see you.” It feels like there’s more that he wants to say, but instead of pushing you giggle and accept an apple.

“You saw me two days ago, dummy!” He smiles softly, heart going limp at the (now friendly) teasing. You turn away before he can keep talking, jumping immediately into banter with your friends, “Hey, Wooyoung! Can you call Jongho back?” The boy in question glances at the empty seat beside him then moves things for a second before cupping his mouth to shout to the front.

“Jongho!” Your freshman looks up with wide eyes, “Sit with me!” He grins widely, throwing back a thumbs up before gathering all of his things. You mouth ‘thank you’ to Wooyoung before turning back to Seonghwa.

“Do you know who has the speaker?” Seonghwas eyebrows furrow, making it painfully clear that he was not paying attention when the boys decided this.

“Yeosang, I think. Him or Hongjoong, somewhere in that seat.” You know immediately that it’s Joong, Yeosang never takes his speaker out of the house, “You better not play that shitty playlist-”

“My playlist is fire, thank you very much!” You slap his bicep with one hand while the other clutches your chest.

“No it is not, half of it is Hannah Montana!” His laugh is sweet, with a slight edge seeping through. Like there’s a dash of liquor in your coffee, “Joong, I have the playlist!” Your friend smiles affectionately and cheers, accepting your phone with a radiant smile.

“Everyone say thank you, (Y/n)” He teases, which unfortunately results in the entire back half of the bus chorusing back ‘Thank you, (Y/n.)’  You giggle softly, a sound that ricochets through Seonghwas head. 

“Thank you, (Y/n.)” He whispers into your ear. If you two were alone in the instrument room he would’ve nipped at the skin there, the loss of that touch makes your body shudder. Seonghwa smiles at the way you roll your neck back, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re welcome!” You respond to everyone else. Right as you turn back to Seonghwa, Britney Spears floods the entire bus, “You’re welcome, Seonghwa.” He smiles, you almost think that he’s going to kiss you.

But then the bus starts moving, and everyone is cheering ‘First comp! First comp!’ You join in with a smile, Seonghwa rolling his eyes at everyones antics. Like he’s much too cool to have fun. Two weeks ago it would’ve been obnoxious, but now you think that it’s painfully endearing.

That seems to be the nature of things with Seonghwa. Everything that used to be the worst part of your day now brightens up any situation. You think that you hate it. Yet it’s also painfully okay.

*

Right as the band is done warming up for the competition your band director tells everyone to find a buddy to zip their jackets. You’ve always been able to do it by yourself, but before you can maneuver your hands to the space in between your shoulders Seonghwa is there.

“You’re gonna rip the jacket,” He grumbles, fingers making quick work of the zipper (there are definitely not sparks flying down your spine as his fingertips brush against your show shirt.) He pats it once after finishing, “good luck out there.” You turn around, hands dusting off the orange and black jacket. It hasn’t been worn in months, yet it’s like putting on your favorite dress. Comforting, empowering... Almost normal, yet if you were to wear this to a school or a grocery store you’d feel entirely insane.

“Let me get your-” He waves the question away right as you notice that Wooyoung is already taking care of it while chattering excitedly, “Oh... Good luck to you too!” Something about the lights of the warm up lot on his tan skin mixed with his uniform that elongates his legs and broadens his shoulders makes your stomach fill with butterflies, “You look good.” He grins in a way that’s shy.

“Thanks, you too.” In that moment you know that he must like you, because there’s sweat on your brow and a light slump to your shoulders. Every ounce of hair is plopped to the top of your head so it’ll fit in the shako, but Seonghwa said that you look good. He said that you look good, and he never lies. Not even to you.

*

“Mingi!” Wooyoung screeches, barreling towards the taller boy (who’s conversing excitedly with the drumline captain,) “Can I have an Oreo pleaseeee-” Mingi’s face twists a little bit, but eventually shifts with a wide smile.

“I don’t know, they’re Yunho’s so-” The boy in question shifts ever so slightly in his spot next to you. He flashes an apologetic smile to you before running up to take his boat of fried Oreos. He pinches one between his fingers and drops it into Wooyoungs mouth, who catches of the air like an excited puppy, and then offers one to Mingi, “Okay I guess it’s fine.” The contra player answers through a full smile.

“They’re so cute.” Yeosang coos while slinging his arm around your shoulders, taking Yunho’s spot. You smile and grab onto the boy's hand where it hangs down, “Before you ask, Joong is getting food with Jongho. Now, how was your run?”

“Fine, good. Always room to improve, y’know?” You both nod, knowing the exact feeling that you’re talking about, “But it was good.”

“And Seonghwa?” The question comes out so calmly that you almost miss it, but when the words finally settle in you’re left sputtering and confused.

“W-what?!” He looks confused, but you feel panicked. Down to the core of your body, you are panicked. 

“Well you guys are friends, right? Like you seem to be friends now and... It’s okay to be friends with him. You don’t have to pretend like he’s not your friend, and it seems good too. For him, he’s nicer lately.” Warmth blossoms in your chest, rising all the way up into your ears as your eyes involuntarily move over to where the boy sits on the bleachers. Where he sits alone, “Go ask him to join us.”

“Really?” Yeosang nods, hand releasing from yours as hope rises along with your blush. A small giggle slips past your lips, “Okay. Yea, okay! I-I’ll be back, um... Yea.”

When you settle down next to Seonghwa he greets you with nothing more than a curt nod. It’s strange, to say the least, but you brush it off. He’s probably just pissed about something, because he’s Seonghwa and always pissed.

“Hey,” You exhale, “h-how was your run?” He shrugs, shoulders tensing violently.

“It was good.” He’s supposed to ask how you did, and you’re supposed to say what you always do. But he doesn’t ask, so you don’t answer.

“U-um... So I was just wondering if... L-like if you wanted to have- not have, if you wanted to-” He looks you square in the face with a glare that could cut, “I was wondering if you wanted to come sit with us.” One of his perfectly sculpted eyebrows quirks, tongue darting to the inside of his cheek.

“If you want to make out you can just say so.” Something clenches around your vocal chords, throat closing up so hard that you think you could choke, “You don’t have to make up some bullshit excuse about wanting to be friends.” It’s not quite clear what tips you over the edge, maybe the biting tone of what he says. The hatred in his eyes that you were so sure you had moved past. The flicker of excitement that dies in your chest, but prickly tears start to gather in your eyes.

“What?” You squeak, swallowing hard, “I-I just wanted to-”

“To make out like we always do.” Those are certainly the words that come out, but they can’t be right. He can’t be actually saying that, because it’s not what you always do. Just two days ago this boy held you so tenderly that you could’ve broken, and now he’s looking at you like he doesn’t even know your name.

“Oh, um...” There’s a part of you that could cry. But then there’s also the part that could bite back, the same way that you would at the start of this season, “Just, fuck off.” 

You barrel out of the stadium like a train that’s on fire, mind focused on nothing other than sinking down into your seat and crying. Or screaming. Or doing anything to get something out of your body. You’re halfway there too, weaving in and out of the rival schools buses with ease, until somebody's hand grips your wrist tightly.

“(Y/n) stop!” Seonghwa. His pink lips are parted and panting. You pull your hand away and cradle it into your chest, fire forming on the tip of your tongue.

“Do not touch me.” The words are spat out like venom, causing him to physically recoil. It’s strange honestly, how less than a month ago this was your normal form of communication and now it’s something that hurts, “Don’t touch me, or talk to me, or even fucking look at me.” His eyebrows crinkle, the soft skin there folding ever so softly.

“I-I just thought that-”

“Thought what? That you could make out with me, and comfort me while I’m crying, and fucking carry me to the band room, and that I wouldn’t care about you? That’s what you thought?!” Earlier this season, back at the second woodwind sectional, Yeosang said that he thought fire was going to shoot out of your eyes. You didn’t get at the time, but now you do. Now, with anger pulsing through every last vein in your body, you understand. Because you want to slap that stupid confused expression off of his face, you want to make him cry the way that you’re going to cry, “Fucking answer me, Seonghwa!”

“I... I definitely didn’t think that you would care about me?” He knows it’s the absolute wrong thing to say as soon as your jaw solidifies into a harsh line. It’s one of your tell tale signs, along with steely eyes that pierce straight through his chest. It seems that pissing you off for three years had some benefits, “Nope, no. Definitely not that, I-”

“Fuck off.” You bite harshly before turning on your heels and storming off towards the bus. He’s about to follow you, but something about your clenched fists and shoulders that are raised so high that they could mold into your ears tells him to stay behind. You’re not sure whether to be grateful or pissed. Maybe both.

When your back finally slides against the cheap leather of your seat, it’s clear. Definitely both. Grateful because there are fat, snotty tears falling down your cheeks with reckless abandon. Because your sobs are so loud that the people on the next bus can probably hear you. Because you’re crying in a way that you never have before. 

But pissed, because no one has ever held you as tightly Seonghwa did just two days ago. Pissed, because the person who you were supposed to hate more than anything just broke your heart. Pissed because something that wasn’t supposed to happen did.

After hours (or minutes. Maybe seconds, you don’t really know) of crying you sit up and assume the natural post competitions pose. Knees hugged to your chest, fingers touching knuckle to knuckle, and head resting softly on the sweating window pane. When your eyes close Seonghwa is the first thing that you see, followed by dark sleep.

An hour later all of the boys crowd onto the bus, filling the space immediately with loud dialogue and banter. Hongjoong leads the group, holding a trophy nearly as tall as his torso and wearing a smile brighter than the sun. You quickly scan down the line for Seonghwa but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Hey! Where were you, we got fir-” Hongjoong halts at the sight of your tear stained cheeks, jaw falling slack at the sight of your wrecked appearance, “What happened?” Seonghwa ducks onto the crowded bus just as your mouth opens. You don’t know whether you should let it all out or pretend like everything is fine and go back to sleep.

“It’s nothing, just tired.” You don’t believe yourself, and the drum major's tight lipped smile let’s you know that he doesn’t either. With an exhale and a soft ruffle of your hair, he moves back to his shared seat with Yeosang. Making just enough room for Seonghwa to slide in next to you.

“(Y/n,) I-” You twist to the seat behind you and drop the half eaten bag of gummy worms into the drumline captains lap. San looks up with a thank you already on his lips.

“Wake me up when we’re twenty minutes from the school?” He nods with a smile, hands already ripping into the bag of candy as if he’s starving. You poke the tip of his nose softly before falling back into the seat, where Seonghwas legs are touching nearly every part of you (really only your thighs, but it feels like he could sit farther away. Like he should sit farther away,) “I’m going to sleep, San’s going to wake me up so don’t bother with it.” His eyes look sad in a way that makes you want to scream.

“(Y/n-)”

“Goodnight, Seonghwa.” You manage through the fresh lump forming in your throat. 

Though your head hits the glass immediately, you can’t fall asleep for almost twenty minutes. Chattering boys and Mingis terrible playlist isn’t exactly the best backdrop for sweet dreams. But they settle down, cheers turning into yawns and a bluetooth speaker into Mingi and Yunho sharing earbuds. You do fall asleep eventually, but it’s not the booming bass of Mingis meme rap.

When you fall asleep, it’s to the beat of a rattling windowpane that won’t fully close and Park Seonghwa breathing deeply next to you.

*

There’s always a trend of depleting motivation after the first win of marching band season. Like freshman year after the regional competition, the following rehearsal was absolute torture. Color guard flags colliding with brow bones, entire passages of music forgotten, and too many dropped drumsticks to count. Then there was junior year (which painfully mirrored the season prior,) in which everyone was sentenced to laps until the sun went down. Each year you’d huff dramatically while complaining about the lazy members, to which Hongjoong would listen with a heaving chest.

Needless to say, that’s changed for the worst (just like everything else this season.) You spent the first lunchtime rehearsal moping drastically while refusing to make eye contact with Seonghwa. All of your friends asked you what was wrong, to which you made up a lie about having an empty stomach. Yeosang saw right through the lie, seeing as he watched you wolf down a chicken biscuit, but he didn’t say anything. In all honesty he probably knew what was wrong but was too conscious to bring it up, an act of kindness that you couldn’t thank him enough for.

Then there’s now, Tuesday after school. Four hours before rehearsal, more commonly known as sectional time. Even more commonly known as designated argue with Seonghwa time, which you don’t want to do today. A small part of you wants to make Yeosang fight him, but the other part knows that it has to be you. It’s not as though you have any other way to get out your anger with Seonghwa (there’s messy makeouts in the instrument room, of course, but you’d rather cut off your own lips than kiss him. Or you’d give the world to kiss him again. Somewhere in between the two.) 

You take the final step onto your practice field, fully prepared to see a block of brass being run ragged by Park Seonghwa. But he’s not there. No one is except for your group and Wooyoung, who’s at the front of the field busying himself with tangled field mic cables. You glance around wildly before bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s genuinely infuriating how upset you are that Seonghwa isn't here, but there’s no time to think about that now.

“Um... Yunho and Yeosang, can you guys lead stretches over by the trailer?” The trailer which is parked on the exact opposite side of the field from where Wooyoung is, “Jongho too, just... Go through the basics, please.” They nod dutifully before leading the group away, Jongho doing so with an earth shattering smile. You wait until they’re all seated and chattering before moving over to Wooyoung, who’s adorning sad eyes and hair that’s too long tied back into a ponytail.

“Hey, (y/n.)” He greets quietly while placing the mic cable into its case. Your stomach churns tightly at the conversation that’s about to happen.

“Hey... Where’s Seonghwa?” The words feel like slow acting poison, the kind that’s threatening to eat you from the inside out and leave you for dead.

“He’s having sectional in the gym, said that you’d probably need the field.” That’s when it kicks in, burning a gaping hole into the center of your chest. You want to scream, or cry, or for Seonghwa to hold you so tightly that it hurts. Instead you stare blankly at the space next to Wooyoungs head, eyes glazing over and body going numb.

“... Oh, h-he was right.” Wooyoung nods before moving on to the next mic cable. It’s so silent and awkward that you almost think that you should leave, even with poison burning in your chest. Even with sadness eating at your skin.

“He told me what happened, and like... The stuff that he said. He doesn’t want to miss you.” Your band director always says that silence is the most impactful thing in music. You never got it until now, because there’s Wooyoung saying these things. Saying all of the right things that you want to hear, a call that waits for your response. Then there’s your response, that leaves a gaping hole in the score of this conversation, “He seems sorry.” You mull it over, words ringing sweet in your skull like an isolated harmony.

With a soft nod you respond, “Me too” before rushing away to where the woodwinds are assembled already in a block. The poison leaves you as sectional bleeds into rehearsal, but for a brief moment your eyes meet Seonghwas and you’re made painfully aware of the hole that it’s left where your heart should be.

*

The last moments in the warm up lot are spent with you trying to zip up your own jacket, and then Seonghwa swooping in to do it for you. His fingers brush the space between your shoulder blades, sending a shock through the core of your being. Goosebumps raise on your neck as his warm breath hits the skin there.

“You’re gonna rip it.” The words come out so much softer than the last time he said them, completely void of any teasing. If anything there’s tenderness, akin to the night that he had to carry you into the equipment room. Caring, gentle, loving. Everything that you’ve learned about Seonghwa in the past two weeks shining through in four words.

“Yea.” You swallow harshly, gloved hands moving to adjust the front of your jacket. It’s already pristine, but you need to do something with your hands or else your body will explode, “Good luck.” 

The director calls everyone into show lines before he gets a chance to say “You too.”

* 

It’s always a struggle to get dressed on the bus after a performance. For starters, your band has to get the cheapest buses possible so there are a grand total of three lights which flicker in and out of commission. You’re also one of the only girls, which just makes things weird, but your seatmates are usually pretty good at helping you hide..

Like now, with San holding up your oversized cardigan while you rumble through your book bag in search for clothes. The space is filled with rambunctious chatter, including Mingi, Yunho, and Wooyoung arguing over who’s going to buy the fried oreos (Yunho suggests three way rock paper scissors, which ends just as poorly as anticipated.) For a brief moment Seonghwa is speaking too, laughing with Jongho about a field judge that they accidentally knocked over, which is the only thing that your brain hears for the next five minutes. 

“(Y/n,) are you almost done? My arms are getting tired.” Even without seeing the drumline captain you just know that he’s pouting. It’s basically laced into his voice, causing guilt to pang in your chest.

“Yea,” You exhale while pulling out the more comfortable clothing (a dark green crew neck sweatshirt with fuzzy black sweatpants. You’ve been dreaming of the moment that you get to change since waking up,) “I just can’t see!” The boy chuckles with a nod that shakes the cardigan barrier.

“Hongjoong and Yeosang want me to tell you that they’re leaving and they hate you-”

“San that’s not what I said!” 

“Hongjoong is saying to never speak to him or his family ever again.” The drum major sighs dramatically before slapping the side of Sans head, causing the boy to cry out like a child. A laugh bubbles out of your throat as the sweatpants come to a halt on the curve of your waist.

“I’ll text you where we’re sitting!” Yeosang calls from the front of the bus, which is now entirely void of people, “Joong I’m leaving you!” 

“They’re a mess.” You grumble while pulling the sweatshirt over your head, “You can go San, I have to repack my bag and stuff.” He drapes the sweater over your head and tosses a packet of fruit snacks into your bag.

“Alright, I’ll probably be with the three amigos.” He’s already halfway out of the bus before you fully process the words, resulting in a giggle.

“Is that what we’re calling Mingi, Yunho, and Wooyoung?” He smiles the smile that makes his eyes crinkle and flashes a thumbs up before ducking out of the bus, leaving you to hum quietly to yourself. There’s something special about seeing an empty space when it was bursting with energy less than two minutes ago. Clothes are thrown around everywhere, uniforms hanging from cracked windows that let in an autumn breeze, bags thrown haphazardly into seats. Like a mist of peace has been pumped into this broken down bus, and you’re the only person lucky enough to see.

The only person until Seonghwa walks onto the bus, that is. You scramble to hide underneath your seat, praying to every being above that you managed to remain unseen. That you wouldn’t have to endure the painfully awkward conversation that’s about to come. 

“(Y/n?)” He calls. While it sounds sweet, he’s biting back a laugh from the loud ‘thud’ that you made by rolling out of your seat, “Can you get off of the floor?” There’s a small bite in his tone. Where it should make you angry, it just makes you want to cry. 

“No.” You answer, body curling in on itself. A small part of you is genuinely considering staying on the floor, but there’s something sticky about two feet from your hand Seonghwa moving back to where you sit. While the thought of facing him is embarrassing, the thought of him seeing you sitting on this disgusting floor is much worse, “You don’t get to talk to me like that anymore.” His nose is almost touching yours when you stand up, sparking a flame in your stomach (you so badly want it to be anger. Red, hot anger. But he’s looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows, warm light flickering against the plane of his face, and you want to kiss him more than you want to breathe.)

“I’m sorry.” He swallows heavily, pink tongue smoothing over puffy lips. You try to shove past him, but you’re halted by a hand on your shoulder, “Can we just talk? Please?” Sparkles form in his eyes, twinkling at you like stars. It hurts your stomach.

“No.” The word is hoarse, definite as you harshly push past the boy and storm towards the front of the bus. He’s trailing behind, hands still trying to grab at your own.

“(Y/n!)” The boy pleads, which does nothing to help your growing frustration. If anything it makes the tight coil of anger in your stomach snap, covering your body in nothing but fire.

“Seonghwa!” You bite harshly, turning around so quickly that your foreheads nearly bump together, “Leave. Me. Alone! It’s insanely rude to make someone like you, to kiss someone like the world is ending, to convince them that you care all for some weird sense of validations and then demand that they hear you out. I don’t owe that to you, so stop acting like I do!” Despite the firm words, your feet stay planted in place. As if leaving means that this is over forever.

“I know you don’t owe me that, I just... I want to explain myself, please just let me do that.” The light starts to flicker again, allowing you to see the sharp lines that compose his face. You’re supposed to say no, to leave and sit down in between your favorite people and make fun of other bands horn angles. Every part of you is screaming to go do that.

“You have ten minutes.” Clearly, you aren’t doing what you’re supposed to.

“Okay, well um... I’m a dick? Like, just a huge dick and it’s just now setting in that I can change. S-some part of you showed me that.” When the light flashes across your bodies you can see that his eyes are brimming with tears. They’re different tears from last time; more timid and less silly. You want to dab at the one that spills down his soft cheek, “And I’m sorry. For tripping you in rehearsal freshman year, when your elbow got scraped?” You nod, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. There’s still scar tissue travelling up your shoulder from that night, “And for telling you that your solo at regional auditions sounded bad. It actually sounded really really good, which you probably already knew... Oh, a-and um for blaming the woodwinds for not knowing their parts, because honestly we didn’t either I was just being... A dick.” You inhale deeply, trying to push down the hope bubbling in your chest. While the words are promising, you know all too well that apologies are meaningless without action.

“Why?” The hope is quickly replaced with tension that’s definitely trying to make you cry.

“Why am I sorry, or why am I a dick?” In any other context it would sound funny, but now it’s just a question. A genuine, innocent question that Seonghwa is asking you with a face twisted into sweet confusion. You shrug with a deep exhale, trying desperately to stall your erratic breathing.

“Either... Both. I just want to know why.” Seonghwa sucks in a breath, then runs his hands through his ink black hair before releasing the air. It’s embarrassing how you follow his movements as if they’re the tip of a conductor's baton.

“Um... Well, I think I was a dick because I thought that having people didn’t matter if you were good. That if I worked hard enough that it wouldn’t even matter that I was lonely, but you have both. Good and loved, not to mention kind. Always so kind.” The light has stopped flickering, leaving the two of you in complete darkness. It doesn’t matter, because his voice wavers slightly at unspoken memories and you know that he’s smiling, “Which is why I’m sorry too, I guess. Because you never did anything to me other than show me that I didn’t have to be like... This.” The next words are so quiet that you barely hear them, “And for making you think that I don’t care about you.” 

“Don’t say things if you don’t mean them.” Your eyes find his through the darkness, locking together like it’s the only thing happening in all of the world.

“I mean it.” It’s a deceleration scribbled into the space between his body and yours, signed by the weight of his hands cupping your jaw, “I care about you.” Goosebumps rise on your forearms as they wrap around the boys slim waist.

“Seonghwa-” There’s probably a right way to do this. A right way to fall for the bane of your existence turned friend. It’s out there somewhere, written up in perfect cookie cutter steps that are easier to follow than words on a page. They definitely don’t include him whispering the affirmation, ‘I care about you,’ against the skin beneath your ear while covering the space in wet kisses.

The boy wraps a hand around the back of your neck before pulling back. You can see him clearer now, all pleading eyes and taunting lips, “Can I kiss you?” It sounds like the climax point of a piece, the part where a chord rings out as the tempo slows just enough to make it itch. You nod while snaking a hand around his jaw.

Seonghwa moves in as if you’ve never kissed before, noses bumping softly. There’s a soft giggle, the rattling of uniform hangers against window panes, and then Seonghwas lips touching yours as if you’re going to break. So much is the same, like how his lips taste like coconut or the spicy scent that floods your nostrils, but it’s different too. Different in the way that he moves against you, in the way that his teeth don’t bite at your lower lip, in the way that his hands cradle every part of you that they touch. He feels like a caricature and more like a person, like a person who’s kissing you softer than you’ve ever been kissed. 

“I like you a lot.” He whispers while moving to kiss the corner of your mouth. Old Seonghwa would tease you for the whine growing in the base of your throat while trying desperately to hide the way that you’re affecting him, “Cute.” He exhales, becoming putty in your hands. 

“Please stop talking and kiss me.” It’s clear that he tries to smirk, but the moment is too soft for it. Too gentle for the fire that his quirked lips elicits in you; instead he gives off a perfectly soft smile. Gentle and caring, more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen.

“Okay,” His thumb runs across your cheekbone, then to the crease of your nose, and finally all the way down to the set of your jaw. It feels like he’s setting you on fire, “Okay.” His lips brush yours softly with the movement, followed by him leaning in so terribly slowly. You think to yourself that you’re going to love him.

In the moment before his lips touch yours there are two things; two hearts beating faster than is safe, and his phone ringing loudly. Your eyes shoot open right as the boy mouths ‘fuck!’ with a dramatic eye roll. You offer him a quiet laugh along with a quick kiss to the tip of his nose, “It’s okay, answer it.”

“No, I don’t need to. Just Wooyoung telling me to bring him his wallet.” You nod silently, nearly crying at the way that his hands untangle from you, “I’m really sorry, I wish i could stay but-” You silence him with a quick peck to the lips, he thinks that he’s going to love you back.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, “We can pick this up later.” He really does smirk now, the familiar look tempting you to stay and kiss him until your lips fall off, “Go get his stuff, I want to see the bands!”

After ten minutes of Seonghwa fumbling through Wooyoung's bag in the dark, the two of you finally leave hand in hand. It feels strange, yet at the same time like what’s meant to be.

*

“Seonghwa, wait!” you call as your boyfriend pulls you into the shared bus seat by your book bag straps. He was only trying to be sweet, but unfortunately failed to think about how pulling you would probably result in falling. There’s a yelp, and you tumbling into him, then of course a loud groan as your palm collides with his collarbone. 

“Oh my, oh gosh, I’m an idiot. Ow.” Mingi is laughing at you two, and it’s only a matter of seconds before your so called friends start throwing things, “Let me help you up, also did I mention ow?!” You laugh brightly and press a kiss to his temple before pushing yourself up into a sitting position.

“I think so.” You swat his hand away from your arms and pull out a box of tissues (packed in preparation for the last competition tears that were almost a guarantee,) “I need to check on Joong, okay?” He smiles gently with a nod.

Hongjoong is in the very back seat laughing his ass off while crying violently. It would be weird if he hadn’t done it three times before, each time at the last competition of the season. Sophomore year you asked why he was crying, to which he responded that it makes the crying less awkward. And that it makes everyone else laugh.

“Has anyone told him a joke yet?” You ask while ducking into the huddle of your friends. San is sitting next to the drum major and passing him candy, Yeosang dabbing at his cheeks with tissues that are quickly depleting. He accepts your fresh box with a silent nod. 

“Not yet.” Yunho answers while throwing a sealed water bottle to Mingi, who also has tears rolling down his face.

“Okay um... What do you call a cow with no legs?” The boy looks at you with wide puppy dog eyes and a gummy worm hanging from his mouth, “Pork chop! Oh no, that’s not right wait-” The boy starts to laugh even harder as you shout ‘Ground beef! Stop laughing I meant ground beef please-’ 

“Did she just say pork chop?” Wooyoung asks through a screeching laugh while breaking his way into the circle. You nod as your sides clench, stinging tears burning in the corners of your eyes. Seonghwa eventually comes back too with Jongho, taking purchase in the seat across from the slowly dispersing huddle. Somehow you fall to the floor of the aisle and settle between your boyfriends legs. He plays with your hair in a manner so relaxing that Mingi’s meme rap is barely audible (still audible though, sadly.)

Similarly to the first competition, you fall asleep. Only this time it’s to the drum of your friends shouting excitedly and Seonghwas heart beating in perfect time with yours.

[knightofameris]

an outstanding performance — marvel (stark!reader)

Setting: an AU where Peter never quit band and Michelle, Flash, and others are also in band, platonic fic!!! Gender: Neutral! Contains: fluff Word Count: 3.7k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY HOLY SHIT)

Summary: Being Tony’s kid meant everyone expected you to be some prodigy in some way. And you were—a musical prodigy at least. The last year of marching band was approaching and you’re definitely gonna be heartbroken. But as long as you had Peter, Ned, and MJ by your side it’ll all be okay

a/n: I wanted to pump something out since I haven’t posted and I’ve always wanted to write something with Peter in band because I WAS A BAND KID IN HIGH SCHOOL. So. It’s also not my best work but I had fun because i reALLY MISS BAND. AND THIS IS JUST A COMFORT FIC FOR ME TBH LMAO [repost from my old account @knightofmarvel​]

There’s a lot of band terms that I don’t think people will understand unless you were a band kid so here’s a little… mini explanation. This is what I used for my band by the way.

Sound off = just be louder I guess? Met = metronome The box = the area in the stadium where the announcer is always in Trumpet, mellophone, baritone/euphonium, tuba = brass instruments Flute, clarinet, alto sax, tenor sax, bari sax, bass clarinet = woodwind instruments Percussion = anything you can hit with a stick basically (including piano because piano keys control something that hits the string) Guard/color guard = the people who spin flags, sabers, and rifles. They also toss it in the air and do other crazy shit (deadass, guard people were so badass i dont get why people called them discount cheerleaders when guard works just has hard, if not harder. like u try tossing a fucking rifle up in the air. this girl legitimately went an entire show after splitting her brow causing her to bleed horribly and finished smiling soooo) Drum majors = people who conduct and is also basically in charge of the entire band Reps = doing something over and over, usually a certain exercise in music or marching technique or a certain part(s) of the show Set = Can mean multiple things, either a certain part of the show or getting ready for the rep they’re about to do (usually shown by holding the instrument up in “set” position) Stand-by = relaxed but still in attention Holding at pistol/rifle = more relaxed but usually saved in show or when instructors/whoever tells stories. Different instruments have different positions thus the pistol/rifle Horns up = instrument in mouth Horns down = instrument not in mouth, same position as Set.

Let me know if there are any mistakes!  **no beta, we die like men

Enjoy! 

“Senior year boyyysssssssss!” You screamed once you entered campus that warm summer morning. Ned and Peter turned around to see you running towards them, about to tackle them. Other band leaders, and especially the senior drum majors, cheered with you.

Ned and Peter, however, did not.

Instead, their eyes widened in fear and they raised their arms up, telling you to not jump at them. But alas, it was too late and you tackled them to the ground.

“Dog pile!” Someone, Adam (one of the drum majors) probably, shouted. And one by one, a group of your fellow bandmates fell on top of you. Each one of them caused you to let out a breath. Peter and Ned taking the brute of it.

“Alright alright, you idiots,” your band directed teased. You all looked up to see Mrs. Ha standing there with her hands on her hips. “Get up, you guys are scaring the freshmen.” She glanced over to the bandroom door where tiny heads were sticking out.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, everyone starting to stand up off of each other. You raised both of your hands down for Peter and Ned, they both took it and you helped them up.

“Damn, (Y/n), why’d you have to do that?” Ned asked. He then reached down for his hat. Something that was mandatory for all band members to wear during practice. Especially during band camp in the summer.

“It’s tradition!” You cheered, wrapping your arm around each of their neck. “Can you guys believe it? We’re seniors.”

“Yeah, and you’re woodwind captain man,”  Peter nudged you in the side.

You grinned and then walked in front of them to grab your backpack, clarinet case, and water jug. You turned around once they were all in hand. “Yeah, but at least I got my two trusty section leaders to lead with me.”

“What about me?”

The three of you turned around to see MJ with her hand on her hip. She had a slight smirk on her face.

“Uh,” you started to say, “to be fair, you’re in the brass section.”

“You could have switched,” MJ retorted, walking up to you and lightly punching you in the shoulder.

And you could have. Afterall, you were a musical prodigy. Especially considering the fact that you were the kid of Tony Stark. You didn’t have much of a knack for STEM, decent at it but only when you put in the extra work to the point of stress. But you had a knack for music.

Your dad noticed your gravitation towards music when you were a toddler and when you didn’t enjoy being in the lab as much as he thought you would have been, as a Stark. But you enjoyed music so he signed you up for piano classes. Then you wanted to learn more instruments and made your way through the wind instruments and then more percussion instruments. From flute to clarinet to alto saxophone, from trumpet to french horn, to, of course, piano and the drumset. You had a lot of range. The clarinet being your favorite instrument to play.

You narrowed your eyes at MJ, “But then you wouldn’t have been brass captain. And do you think I can leave the woodwinds to be left in charge by these losers?” You pointed to Peter and Ned.

“Hey!” They both protested.

“Guys! Roll call is soon and they’re introducing all the leaders to the entire band,” Adam said, holding the metronome in his hand.

“Yeah, got it,” You and Michelle said, both with a slight authoritative tone in your guys’ voice. You both exchanged glances with a raised brow.

“Wow, the captain in you guys is really coming out,” Peter teased. You both rolled your eyes. You went to go walk beside Michelle. On the way into the bandroom.

“Oh man, I just hope I don’t accidentally make a freshman pee their pants this year.” You walked straight into the bandroom and Peter laughed, remembering that clearly last year when you were section leader.

“I just don’t want to do running block,” Ned complained, trudging behind you. “I hate band camp.”

“Ditto,” MJ remarked. Peter shot her a look.

“Shouldn’t you be hyping it up, for the freshmen?”

MJ shrugged, “Yeah, but I can complain to you guys.”

“Fair enough.”

***

“Sound off guys!” You shouted as the band did reps across the field in across-the-floors. In a moment, the voices of the members got louder, counting in time with the met. You looked around yourself, making sure there were no members dicking around too much. With it being so far into the marching season already, you didn’t want any of them to dick around so much where they’d regret it if your guys’ band didn’t perform to the best of your ability at your last competitions.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he prepped to step off on the other side. He stuck his tongue out then faced forward with his clarinet in hand. His mouth moving with his voice being just loud enough to be heard as he began to count off. He was the backline with three other freshmen near him who didn’t count at all. All three of them clarinets as well.

You called out their names, telling them to sound off until one of the visual instructors cut the metronome. Peter continued, trying to keep time without it loud enough for the freshmen to stay with him.

“Alright, stop!” The instructor, Alicia, shouted. Peter stopped, relaxing his arms and putting his clarinet in his hand with standby. The entire band stared at him in silence, waiting for what he had to say. “We have three more competitions to go. One more football game. And then we have Grand Nationals. We’ve been doing this since June. It’s October! I’m doing all I can to push you guys, it doesn’t matter if you’re a freshman anymore. You’ve been in this program so you know what we expect. In the end, it’s up to all of you guys how bad you want it. Do you guys want to make finals?”

A chorus of yeah’s came from the students. Something caught your eye as the instructor continued to talk. Flash was dicking around, mocking the instructor and when the instructor was quiet you called him out.

“Hey Flash, why don’t you run a lap?” You asked. Lucky you, he was an alto saxophone, so completely in your control.

“Wh-What? Why? I didn’t do anything,” Flash argued. You raised a brow.

“Oh really? So you weren’t even listening to Alicia as she was talking?” You retorted. “You said you weren’t doing anything right? I guess that’s still a lap.” Someone next to him nudged him, telling him not to argue and he groaned.

He walked off to the side, setting his instrument down.

“Next time, don’t mock her when she’s trying to help us. Especially since you’re the only senior who doesn’t sound off.” Flash glared at you while you kept a smirk on your face.

He murmured, “Fucking Stark.” Then went off into the run. That’ll earn him a talk after practice.

“Thanks, (Y/n),” Alicia said, shooting you a smile. You gave her a nod

Percussion and color guard began walking into the stadium and prepped to practice with the rest of the band.

“Alright, I’ll cut this rep short, go grab a gush and wait for instructions,” Alicia ordered. The teenagers began to run off the field and towards their water jugs were with their own section.

“I don’t get why Flash is even more annoying,” Peter muttered. You and Peter watched Flash continue to run around the track as you drank water from your jug.

“It’s probably because he didn’t get any leadership position,” Cindy suggested. She stood next to you two, also a clarinet section leader.

“Yeah, well, Ned deserved the alto sax position,” you said. “Not Flash, he’s an asshole.” The other two nodded their heads.

A high pitched whining noise came from the box and everyone flinched and groaned, staring up at it.

“Oh, sorry guys,” the band director, Mrs. Ha, said. “Hornline captains, lead the warm up for your section. Mr. C and I won’t have enough time this practice.”

You turned to face your section, calling out to them and raising your instrument in the air. You led them to wear the respective drum major that conducted for the woodwinds for warm up stood on her podium. Everyone was wetting their reeds in their mouth, save for the flute players who stood in arc warming up their instrument. The reed players began placing their reeds on their mouth pieces, then also warming it up a bit. You walked around, talking to a few of the leaders here and there. Then walking up to one of the seniors in the clarinet section and making them center while also handing them a tuner for later.

With a wave of your hand and your fist closing, everyone stopped playing.

“Stand-by,” you called out. Each member stopped fidgeting and their ears looked to you attentively. “Set!”

In a ripple effect from the edge of the arc to the center, everyone brought their horns up. You smirked. “Nice job guys, we’ve come a long way since freshman band camp. Same warm up, make sure to watch the hands.” You pointed up to the drum major, Kay, who stood on top of the podium.

“Stand-by,” she called out once more. “Doing the woodwind warm up and make sure to watch my hands. Set!”

The rest of practice went by smoothly. The drum majors standing on the podium, instructors up in the box telling instructions through a mic for the head drum major to repeat. The entire band doing what was told. Parents sat in the stands watching their kids practice.

You could have sworn you saw your dad and a few others in the stands that practice. But you paid it no mind, he’d usually come to competitions but he had never gone to a practice.

So when practice was over and the band was dismissed, you, Peter, Ned, and MJ began to set back to the bandroom after all the underclassmen cleared out from the stadium. And after you gave Flash another stern talking about attitude and disrespecting instructors and leaders. Which led to him running a lap and then doing push-ups.

You and MJ were pushing the huge water jugs back as well, all of your stuff riding on the bottom of the cart with MJ’s. All four of you were joking around when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey kid!”

You jolted, turning around to see your dad standing there with Morgan on his shoulders. Rhodey, Pepper, Steve, and Natasha stood next to him, all of them with a smile on their face.

“Dad!” You called out, letting go of the cart and running up to him. Tony quickly set Morgan down and you hugged him. He let out an ‘oof’ on impact but hugged you back. “You’ve never came to practice before!”

“Well, I thought I should,” Tony said, kissing the top of your head. “You stink.” You tore away from him, laughing when you noticed his scrunched up face.

“Yeah, my hat’s kinda gross from practice.”

You turned to face Morgan and picked her up, setting her on your hip. You looked at the others, “Why are you guys here.”

“Got bored,” Rhodey answered. “Then thought, we might as well see what the musical Stark was up to.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’re so cool, (Y/n)!” Morgan hugged you around your neck. “But scary. Just like mommy!” Your dad and you chortled with laughter and Pepper shook her head, grabbing her out of your arms.  

“Yeah, you yelled at that kid for a good ten minutes,” Nat said. “Good job.”

“I’m surprised,” Steve spoke up. “I didn’t realize marching band was modeled after the military bands until Rhodey told me.”

“Yeah, you never came to one of my shows,” you playfully glared at him. But you began laughing and hit him lightly. “I’m kidding, you guys are always busy. But-” you looked at them, hopeful “-my last football game is this Friday. Then three more local competitions until Grand Nats in Indiana.”

The adults exchanged glances with each other.

“Well, you know Pep and I will be at Grand Nats,” Tony said, ruffling your hair.

“And me!” Morgan added.

“And Morgan,” Tony laughed.

“We’ll… Try.” Steve scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, (Y/n).”

“It’s cool,” you replied nonchalantly. “You guys are Avengers, other priorities.”

“Not to interrupt, but your friend looks like she’s struggling with the jugs.” Rhodey pointed behind you, and you saw MJ trying to push the jugs over a whole in the ground. Peter and Ned stood there, laughing at her. Your eyes widened and you bolted over to her after passing Morgan to your dad.

“Oh shit, sorry!”

***

The band sat in the stands, playing pep tunes whenever they were supposed to while the football game went on. You, of course, were dicking around with Peter and Ned. Ned sat behind you with his section and you sat beside Peter on the edge. MJ was far off in brassland, reading a book since she hated her section. She really hated trumpets.

Then the drum majors motioned to the saxes that they could do their thing and Ned stood up, ushering his section to stand up as well. You smiled, as this was one of your favorite traditions during football games.

Ned played the first note, and everyone following after. The tune of ‘Beautiful Girl’/’Stand By Me’ leaving the horns. There were a few pitch problems, but it’s not like it was a competition. Football games were always one to just relax, have fun, and do dumb shit.

Mrs. Ha even watched with a smile on her face.

“How do you think MJ’s faring?” You asked Peter. He looked back.

“Still reading her book,” he replied. “Dude, this is the last time we’re ever gonna hear Stand By me.”

You shoved Peter, “Bruh, don’t talk about it! I’m gonna cry.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “This is the last time we wear our uniform for a football game.”

“Peter!”

Peter laughed, raising his arms up in the air to block you from trying to smack him.

“Man, I’ll just do Drum Corps or whatever after this,” you muttered after giving up on hitting Peter.

“You could, that’d be badass,” Peter said. “Maybe do like percussion like tenor drums or something.”

You nodded your head, “I totally should. I’m gonna miss band a lot.”

“Me too,” Peter sighed. “But at least we can focus more on our other extracurriculars.”

You raised a brow at him. “You mean your internship?” Peter nodded his head. “You should’ve just quit band man.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, but band is fun and you’re still in it with your internship. Though, I think MJ would have found out a lot sooner if I did though.”  You laughed, remembering how MJ was only slightly thrown off on Peter possibly being Spider-Man because of how he was able to be in band and a superhero. Though the same applied to you

“Okay, sure, but I don’t do missions on season, and I fight crime a little less,” you retorted. He laughed again at you, eyes filled with amazement. You were cheering at the football team, not that you knew what was going on. Just, everyone else was cheering plus it was fun.

Peter was always amazed at how smoothly you fit into the leader role, something that would put you at an advantage if you ever led the Avengers in the near future. It definitely helped when you led groups in missions or when none of the older adults were around in times of crises. Then whenever a freshman was upset or a band member got injured on the field, you always somehow ended up right next to them. Even tripping while running across the field but falling into a roll then jumping back up, then carrying said injured member off the field to make sure they were okay.

He laughed to himself, remembering each moment he shared with you and all the other band members. He’s going to miss it a lot, but he knew you’d miss it even more.

***

The sounds of cheering, the rush of adrenaline, the musical notes and perfect harmonies accompanying the melody reverberated throughout the stadium. Then when the last note came out of your horn and everyone snapped their horns down, panting and sweat glimmering on everyone’s forehead, you smiled. You started almost laughing with tears coming down your face.

You enjoyed jumping off buildings to feel the adrenaline and going through the city but that could never compare to performing. Especially considering all the hard work you, and the entire band, put in for this particular moment. Your smile widened even more when you saw both of the senior drum majors on the podium in front of you also smiling, panting, but tears in their eyes.

Then the bass drum hit and in time with the beat, the members marched off the field or went to their respective prop to push it off the field. You were part of the latter, meeting up with Peter at the same prop.

He flashed you a smile, “Don’t cry yet (Y/n), we gotta wait before the senior traditions.” Then you only started crying more when you realized you wouldn’t be on the receiving end anymore. You would be the senior participating in said traditions. You wiped the tears off with your gloves.

“Shut up, Peter,” you laughed. “I can’t help it, we made it into finals. That was our final performance.”

“Was it your best performance?” Peter asked. You just started bawling more, nodding your head. At this point you weren’t even pushing the prop, but you knew Peter didn’t even need help, being Spider-Man and all. “Then that’s all that matters.”

When the entire band made it out in the -5 degree cold air, putting their instruments away and giving the props to the band dads to put away, you finally stopped crying. Mostly because tears in this weather was always an ass with how cold it is, especially considering the uniform doesn’t give you any warmth. Before your band director could round everyone up to talk about how it was the best performance your band had ever performed this year, that it didn’t matter what place you got, you felt a small body wrap around your legs.

“(Y/n)!!”

“Mo! What are you doing?” You asked, picking her up into your arms. She was bundled in warm clothing and you saw your dad and Pepper. Then even in the distance, you saw the Avengers which made you beam.

“That was great,” your dad said, kissing the top of your head.

“Wait! No PDA in uniform.” you took a small step back. He rolled his eyes. “Kidding, I don’t care anymore. Thanks dad.” He ruffled your hair the moment you gave your shako (hat) for Morgan to hold.

“Yeah, honey, even your solo was amazing,” Pepper said, fixing your hair then kissing the top of your head.

“It was…” Morgan paused, her face scrunching as she went deep in thought. “An outstanding performance!” Morgan cheered, hugging you tightly. You, Tony, and Pepper exchanged glances.

With a raised brow, you asked, “Where’d she learn those words?”

“No clue.” Tony shrugged. Then he grabbed his dad-bag and pulled out a few cards and even small gifts. “By the way, this is from everyone. They’ll come stop by to say hi but after they have a mission to get to.”

A small smile made its way on your face and you even started crying again. Tony wrapped an arm around your shoulder, rubbing your arm up and down. Morgan held onto you even tighter and Pepper placed a comforting hand on your hand.

“Thank you for coming, I’m gonna miss this so much,” you sniffled. Looking around you at your bandmates and all the joyful tears being shed, the hugs, the laughter. None of them were even staring at your dad in this moment because of the last performance. Which says a lot. Well, save for a few but it didn’t matter.

“I know,” your dad said softly. “But you got to experience it and I am so proud of you, (Y/n). Section leader and then woodwind captain? Amazing. I can barely play piano for the life of me.”

You chuckled, “I can’t code for the life of me.”

“But one thing’s for certain,” Pepper said. “Starks are always a natural for their passions.”

Your band director called for everyone to gather around to give them one last after-performance talk for the end of the season. You stood next to MJ, Peter, and Ned. Some of you with tears in your eyes, but all of you with a sense of satisfaction coursing through you. Four years of band was difficult, but you all made due with each other.

You glanced back, towards your family and the other Avengers and you were so happy to know that there on the field, you knew they were all watching. They all supported you through your musical career and would never stop.

Then the drum majors dismissed all of you and you turned to try to talk to your family once more, even making eye contact with Steve until all the freshmen and other underclassmen bombarded you with hugs and being all teary eyed.

“Hey, don’t worry about it guys,” you mentioned, looking at Peter, Ned, and MJ, trying to get them to help you out, “I’ll be doing drumline this year, I’ll still hang ‘round the bandroom.”

Tony chuckled, watching you talk to the younger teenagers and hugging each of them. He was proud of you, no doubt about it.

[sunflowerseedsandscience]

Continuing the “We dated in high school and now you’ve moved back to town” AU. No title yet. (Part One is here; Part Two is here.)

By ten o’clock at night, a little over twelve hours after running into Melissa Scully at the cafe near his office, Mulder has firmly convinced himself that his phone will not be ringing tonight, and that he should stop staring at it, stop pacing around his house, and go do something productive.

Melissa had promised she would call and tell him if Dana decided she didn’t want to talk to him, so either way, he’s not going to be left wondering. But Melissa had also warned him-- as if he didn’t know already-- that Dana might need some time to decide. He wonders, in hindsight, if it would have sounded too desperate if he’d asked Melissa to call him after she’d talked to Dana so that at least he’d know when the actual waiting would start.

Relax, he tells himself firmly. Either she’ll call or Melissa will, and there’s nothing you can do to make it happen any faster. He slides into his desk chair in his study, intending to go over case notes to prepare for next week’s sessions... but instead, his mind drifts, remembering Dana as she’d been when he’d met her. Most of his classmates had looked at her askance-- what was this tiny, freckle-faced freshman girl doing in their honors calculus class?-- and while a number of the boys had been put off when she’d put her hand up with the correct answer to every question, Mulder had been intrigued. She’d shown up in his physics, class, as well, just as knowledgeable, just as unafraid to put her hand up for every question.

On Friday of the first week of school, Mulder took the seat next to hers in calculus. “Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual.

Dana didn’t even look up. “I’m not doing your homework for you.”

“I don’t... wait, what?”

“That’s what you’re going to ask, isn’t it?” She locked her ice-blue gaze on him. “The last two guys who tried to talk to me offered me a seat at the ‘cool kids’ lunch table and a ride in his older brother’s Camaro, respectively, if I did their homework for them.”

“No, I-- I don’t-- I can do my own homework, I just--”

“So you want to know why a freshman is in your class?” Her expression didn’t soften any.

“I just wanted to say hi! Jesus!” This wasn’t going the way Mulder had hoped. “Are you always so defensive?”

For a moment, Dana looked like she was about to let Mulder have it... but then, she deflated with an exhausted sigh. “I’m sorry. This week has been rough. Guess I just expect everyone to demand something from me, since everyone here has so far.”

“I’m sorry,” Mulder said. “I can tell you up front that I get straight A’s without help, and I don’t have an older brother with a Camaro. Or any older brother at all, actually.” He smiled, and tentatively, she smiled back. “I promise, I really did just want to introduce myself.”

She was so cautious with him, at first. But he didn’t take that personally once he knew she was from a Navy family. The school-- and Arlington on the whole-- was full of military kids, kids who showed up in class partway through the school year and disappeared just as suddenly, their fathers or mothers sent off to a new destination at the whim of their superiors. Dana, by her own admission, had attended five different schools before moving to Arlington, and Mulder understood why she was hesitant to get close to people.

But once they had gotten close, there had been no separating them... at least not from outside forces.

The decision to break up before college had been mutual. Dana, no longer a year behind Mulder academically, had been accepted to every college she’d applied to, and one night, she drove over to his place, looking troubled, and asked him to go for a walk with her. Earlier that day she’d listened to her friend Ellen, who was Mulder’s age, talking about how she hadn’t applied to any schools more than a few hours’ drive from Arlington because she didn’t think she could stand living away from her boyfriend.

“That can’t be us,” Dana had told Mulder firmly. “I know you’re hesitating about going to Oxford, and I know it’s because you think you should go to Stanford with me. But honestly, Mulder... do you really want to go to Stanford because you think it’s the best fit for you, or is it just to be close to me?”

He thought for half a second about lying to her, but he knew how useless that would be. “No,” he sighed. “I know it’s not where I should go.” 

“And I can’t let you ignore that,” Dana said. “I can’t let you throw away the chance to go to your dream school.”

“And I could never ask that of you, either,” agreed Mulder. “So... what's that mean for us, then?”

“I guess that’s up to both of us,” Dana said. “We could give the long distance thing a try... or we can enjoy the time we have together until we leave for school in August, part as friends, and see what the future holds for us.”

So they had agreed. They would go off to their separate schools, keep in touch, and remain the closest of friends... but that would be all, at least until they’d finished with school. If the feelings were still there, they could take a look at where their lives were headed and find out if there was room on the road for both of them together.

Of course, they were free to see other people in the meantime, though they both agreed: neither wanted to hear about it.

The first months had been torture for Mulder. They’d written letters weekly, but phone calls were rare. Scully couldn’t afford the long-distance rates and didn’t like letting Mulder pay every time they spoke. He spent the entire fall looking forward to his Christmas holidays, when he and Scully would both be back in Arlington, and maybe they could continue as they had, if only for a few weeks.

And then in November, the word had come down from Naval command. Captain Scully, his wife, and his one child still living at home had packed up and headed off to his new posting in Oregon. Dana was long gone by the time Mulder flew home for Christmas.

They’d still written. Even when Mulder had fallen under Phoebe’s spell, he’d still sent Scully a letter every single week, though he’d been careful to keep that a secret from Phoebe. The fallout would likely have been nuclear.

But then, in March of Mulder’s senior year, a week had gone by with no letter from Scully... and then two... and then a whole month... until finally, during his last few weeks as an undergrad, he’d received the two-line missive that had shattered his heart:

“I want you to know that you will always be on my mind and in my heart, but I can’t write to you any more. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

The rest of his letters had come back undeliverable. 

The ringing of his desk phone startled Mulder out of his thoughts and he grabbed for it frantically. “Hello?”

“Mulder?” The voice was a little deeper, a little richer than he remembered, but still, he’d know it anywhere. “It’s me.”