#cause it’s hit or mostly miss with idol dramas I feel like…

[slytherinshua]

..yes,that's it.

why are we doing all this 😞😞😞

[moonsprings]

maybe it's because i've been through it these last two years with a shit ton of personal shit that happened (family deaths, friend with illness) that everything feels a lot more... more but this news of lee sun kyun's death has been shocking. it feels odd because i'm a lot more sad about it than i expected to be, just from a human perspective of not wanting other people to feel the kind of despair necessary to take your own life. i wasn't a die hard fan but a casual fan nonetheless (cue self callout about liking middle aged men with nice voices... lol.) and while admittedly i've been more of a fan of lee sun kyun's wife (actress jeon hye jin, who is famous in her own right) in recent years, he was undoubtedly an actor i watched growing up. coffee prince was the hit drama when i was in grade school, back when my family used to watch korean cable/broadcast tv at home. then pasta, then my mister which i consider his representative work, more so than parasite. it's a horrible thing that's happened.

there's a lot of context that's missing on the western side of the news, mostly to do with the whole hostess/escort blackmail situation that had been unfolding on korean news in the last 2-3 months which likely compounded the entire scandal and his decision to do this sadly. imo this entire thing has far less to do about drugs than people actually think though it's still a significant factor. lee sunkyun has always had a 'family man' image on kor tv and the revelations about him and the alleged hostess/escort who had been blackmailing him who supplied and took drugs with was a madame/hostess from a VIP (basically rich people only) room salon/hostess bar he appears to have been having an affair with for a while which irreparably damaged his image and reputation and likely his marriage and family. rumors had been circulating that his in-laws were urging jeon hyejin to divorce him, they supposedly sent their kids to an overseas boarding school because they were getting bullied in korea over lsk's scandal, and he was facing millions in won in contract violations penalty fees from cancelled CFs/advertisements and tv and film work that was delayed because of the scandal (also fucking hell, just saw the news report saying he left a message to his company's rep apologizing for the penalty fees right before his death). the same penalty fee situation happened to actor yoo ahin after he was convicted of drug charges and is now reportedly millions in debt. that is an incredible amount of pressure, even if part of it was the consequence of his actions. and to be clear, these were stupid choices he made but the reaction was so wildly disproportionate to what he's been accused of.

i feel like if it had "just" been drugs, or "just" been the hostess scandal, he could have made a come back after a few years as many other korean celebrities have (way more than people think, and he has more leeway as a critically celebrated, middle aged male actor who is not an idol), but it's the combination of the drugs, the 'room salon'/hostess club situation that just exploded, and the corrupt police placing this level of constant pressure and publicity on him that caused this imo. his private phone calls and messages he made with the hostess were leaked yesterday from a known r/ight wing kor youtuber before his suic-de. having seen it reported in the kor news, it's difficult to describe the contents of it other than being very personal and frankly, embarrassing (and i mean this as neutrally as possible. think adam levine-esque) in a country as conservative as korea when he's telling a s-x worker he 'really likes [her]' in the sense that he has feelings for her. and again, his wife is a prominent actress and their public images are tied together. given the timing, it likely wasn't just about the drugs. and i know the whole room salon/hostess bar thing is incredibly common in korea, in older stats some say something like 70% of korean men have frequented one (though it's increasingly becoming less acceptable and therefore less common, which is why the public reaction been harsh) and i really don't approve of the cultural aspects that have allowed this to be permissible (as a korean-american) but i feel like that's a personal issue that should have been handled by him and his family. if it was one or the other he could have made a return but i think the pressure of it being this public and detailed due to police likely being the ones intentionally leaking information from the investigation was just too much for him to handle. it feels like the police purposefully went out of their way to humiliate lee sun kyun in the press and public to try and get him to admit to the drug charges because g-dragon, the other celebrity that was implicated, proved his innocence rather conclusively and the police didn't have anyone else to use to get some high profile publicity.

...so we started the year with a suic-de and ended it with a suic-de. it's telling, i think. obviously i don't know any of them, they're 'just' celebrities who literally don't know i exist (as it should be) but honestly my chest feels heavy watching dark coats and emotionless faces walk into the university hospitals, the smiling portrait pictures atop the bed of flowers at the ceremonial funeral rooms, the whole lot - i don't know how many more times people can see this and not feel like anything's wrong. image is everything and the pressure to perform, be perfect, be successful is too much. i'm not even half as talented as any of them and i still felt it, a sea away, in a watered down version from immigrant korean parents and an immigrant community. everyone is way too damn casual about admitting their suic-dal thoughts but not really offering any real solutions and it's just so common. i've heard far too many interviews from kor celebrities who had scandals (and when i say scandals i mean in the asian sense again, dating, secret marriages, divorces or drugs or whatever shit that would barely even qualify as a line in the news in the west most of the time and not more serious crimes) who admitted years after the fact that they were considering suic-de because of the public reaction. or more mundane shit like 'i felt suicidal in school because of academic pressure' stuff i've heard a million times from korean friends, classmates. a lot of it gets dismissed as 'puberty' or 'everyone feels that way'. and again i ask why it's so normalized.

then even those celebrities that have died from suic-de are treated like virtual boogeymen afterwards, their names never mentioned even in places where it should be. the eggshells, the sidestepping because it could be considered 'sensitive' and thus they're erased because the only context their lives can be in is in position to their suic-des. other people who knew them, friends, acquaintances, coworkers they had - past the initial condolence messages, it's like they never existed because everyone is scared of controversy from saying the wrong thing, or not being serious enough, or whatever the hell people want to nitpick that week. people have literally been criticized before for being too sad or not being sad enough when a death from a suic-de has happened so i'm not surprised this was the end result, that literally no one talks about the deceased now outside of a very select few. if they are talked about, it's more so alluded to in an extremely vague manner usually not mentioning them by name, and they rarely, if ever say the actual word suic-de. they usually say that it was an "안타까운 사건" ('an unfortunate incident') even in official news reports, including of LSK's death, and it just bothers me that it's this taboo, everything from making stupid decisions and stupid mistakes (bullying, drugs, cheating, whatever the fuck) or just plain having mental illness, to ending their lives because of it, to having their friends and family not speak about them publicly because it's 'shameful' and they'll get judged.

i don't know what the point is, just that i'm really increasingly frustrated with the state of things. the police shouldn't have pushed him to the brink. this entire situation straight up should not have happened at all.

[markwritf]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ˚｡ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ idol x staff

· agatha x wooyoung x san · chapter 1 · wooyoung, overwhelmed by his emotions and insecurities, is encouraged by his supportive boyfriend san to express his feelings to a staff he admires.

the day i lost myself, but found us.

The wind from the window hit his face like in a movie, and the white walls of his room bothered him enough to make a loud noise in his mind and completely disassociate him from reality. Lying in bed, his mind instantly brought him up at all times, even if he tried not to, to how much of an asshole he must be by nature to keep thinking that way. Wooyoung was trapped in the normality and calamity that his work had given him for a long time, and feeling something that differed from the routine brought memories of war to him, who had vowed in vain to hold his chest in relationship matters. It might sound like hyperbole, but it was the truth he was living at that moment, the reality he had placed himself in. His mind was entirely wrecked with the mood he had tried to build up.

Until the only thing that could happen to change him for good, luckily, happened.

— Hey, did you miss our plans? — San's voice echoed in the room and Wooyoung, who was in his theatrical episode for the thousandth time that week, couldn't muster enough strength to say anything but mumble a low ‘hum', but enough for him to hear from the other side of the room door. San, knowing what all that endless drama was about, smiled and opened the door politely — Do you want me to stay?

The answer didn’t change. Wooyoung hadn't realized until that moment how over he was.

— You can't stay here forever suffering like this, you're gon’ break my heart... — San said, sitting down beside her boyfriend and looking at his face before lying down on his side. He, in turn, turned automatically to hug the waist of the man beside her, the permanent pout still on his face as a sign of protest. — Seriously, idiot. I've already told you everything you wanted to hear, and yet you're still suffering from something you don't even know will go wrong firsthand!

— Of course I know — was the first and only thing that came out of the lips, which remained in the same pout soon after.

— You don't know anything, weirdo! I told you the only thing I can't do is talk to her for you! Come on, Wooyoungie! We've done this so many times! You can't be disconcerted, firstly cause I've never seen you embarrassed. NEVER! And you're very confident all the time, especially when it comes to hitting on others.

Even with all those statements, Wooyoung remained silent. The truth was, he didn't want to hear that lecture, but he comprehended his boyfriend's side. It must have been stressful enough to allow that and not get any updates in return. There were a few minutes trapped in the hug and caress on the back that was given by San for him to create the courage to speak again, and even as he spoke, it seemed as if the words were not coming out of his mouth, but gushing out.

— I'm sorry… I'm already asking so much of you, and… I didn't even offer you anything in return… — He said, and San knew that there would be the first snort heard since Wooyoung's tone of voice was tearful — I'm trying to talk to her, but I'm afraid it's something very impossible... I mean, it's not like I know that much about her…

But actually, Wooyoung knew too much already.

She was his stage assistant, helping mostly with his make-up, hair, and costumes, and, mainly, calming him down before an important performance. She had curly hair, which was extremely different and made Wooyoung curious most of the time, as he was always very fond of touch and knowing the feeling of things at the first tactile impression. She was shorter, but older — which made him tingle internally as soon as he found out. She was beautiful to look at, touch, smell, Wooyoung had serious doubts about how to behave around her. But that was exactly the problem. Wooyoung was too insecure to propose that annoying situation, not that it was a problem to go up to her and tell her about his feelings, but it was an issue to do it properly. Just thinking about it made him shiver again.

— I think you fuss too much, love… It’s not like she's going to reject you! — San exclaimed, eyes shining and a pout on his face, brooding — I wanted you to do this for you… For us… Don't you think it will be cool? I mean, she's interesting, she's beautiful, and I see you two together.

— Stop saying that! You'll make me feel guilty all over again!

— You idiot, I just said I want to be with her too! — He laughed, swaying with laughter and then getting on top of his boyfriend, giving him several kisses on the cheek — Go before she leaves, or I'll hit you!

Wooyoung had no choice, but only realized it at that moment when San made that information clear. It had been months since he had seen her romantically for the first time, even if he didn't realize it — or maybe simply didn't want to accept it — at first. With each passing day, Wooyoung tried more and more to insert himself into her routine in a way that wasn't so visible, so clear that he was just madly in love. The problem was that form didn't exist if every time he saw her, his cheeks turned as red as his hair. It wasn't a common feeling, it was more than he had felt in his entire life and probably similar to what he felt in the spring of two thousand and sixteen when he met his boyfriend, and among all of them, that was the information that scared him the most in this whole situation. He was thinking too much, his mind worked on in those few minutes he passed through the dorm corridor before reaching the staff room. He knew she was there because one of the reasons for the supposed passion was the fact that she was so dedicated when it came to taking care of him.

 But reality hit the boy's face when he heard her voice inside, laughing at something that was said among the other people who worked for them. Wooyoung didn't have a chance to think before acting, as the glass in the room revealed him with the shyest expression in the world to the girl. Upon opening the door, the world seemed to collide with the stars once more in his eyes.

— Hey, Wooyoung! Need something? — She asked him, but at the same time that everything looked so beautiful, a harsh tone of tiredness prevailed between the lines of her voice. Wooyoung felt sad, even though this time he didn't show it.

— Oh, not really… I… — Even though he wanted to decide and clarify his intentions right then and there, Wooyoung gave up. It was unfair. It was simply unbelievable. There were no plausible justifications to make her go through that whirlwind of emotions that he hadn't even processed yet. Looking into her caramel eyes, he smiled, calm, as if the calamity could be conveyed by a simple look like his in that instant — It's just that, actually, I always notice that you do a lot for me. Hongjoong once did something similar to the girl who works for him, trying to… be grateful… Do you think there's a possibility that I can make you dinner tonight? — He said simply, but it took him a second to think better about what he had said — Ah! If you… I mean, if you're busy, there's no need… I'm sorry, I think you already know how flighty I am…

— Oh really? Damn… If you’d said it sooner…

The boy's heart broke in two pieces at that moment, so small but so crucial. It might have been simple from the outside, but mustering the courage to talk to her in that simple way was endlessly exhausting.

— It's okay… Please, don't feel pressured! I wanted you just to feel invited and… Chill around me, you know?

— I'm just kidding! I just wanted to see your reaction! But you know you don't need that, right? — She laughed, and Wooyoung was finally able to breathe again — I'm the one who doesn't want you to feel pressured.

— I'm not, I swear! Just wanted to thank you somehow. You do too much sometimes and I’m pretty good at cooking if you ask me. — He laughed for the first time, covering his mouth with his hand.

— I know that! I didn't want to waste the chance. — She commented, smiling along with him and copying the act, but later thanking him vehemently — But thanks for inviting me.

— You don't have to be formal like that. Can I… Meet you at eight? I don't want to bore you in the kitchen.

— Sure.

And it was at that moment that love finally had room to float through the air.

the nerve of intimacy.

With a not-so-exorbitant amount of food, because the strategy made at the last second could even have worked, but there was a lack of planning for it to run as smoothly as possible, Wooyoung set up a table as tidy as possible, even if out of the ordinary: the table in the common room of the dorm, in front of the TV and now housed between several cushions and pillows, had two plates of pasta and two glasses of wine - which were thought very carefully whether they should be placed there or not. In addition, he had also made an improvised dessert with what he had in the fridge, and the desperation in the boy's voice when he had texted his boyfriend desperately ashamed of the fact was the funniest part of his night so far. He would be even funnier if he wasn't so nervous, even if for no apparent reason. The door opened suddenly, as he had already informed her where he would be waiting. His body trembled before he turned and rose to receive her as informally as possible. There had indeed been situations in which this work barrier had been broken, like the time when he had the flu and had asked for company, since San had other plans that day and he would never be able to bother her without the need, but God knows Wooyoung's ability to be needy while sick. That same endless need became the need to take her in an embrace at that moment. A hug that should have lasted three seconds, but to him it felt like forever, in a good way.

— Thanks for coming, and sorry again for the sudden request — he said, walking with her to where they would be staying for the night.

— You apologize too much unnecessarily, Woo. You don't have to… — She looked like she wanted to continue, but the sight of the surprise he'd prepared was too enchanting to do it. The smile on her face grew and the feeling of gratitude for that moment only made him even happier — You are pretty excessive, right? I thought it was going to be just… Ah, Wooyoung!

— What?! You can't judge me for wanting to please you! — He said as if he was offended. The truth being he was, he felt guilty most of the time for not doing the least for someone who always did his best for him, without even realizing it.

For someone who made him believe again in the possibility of loving beyond what his chest supports.

For someone who made him relearn how to open his heart again.

— I'm not judging you, that's for sure, Woo. I just don't want you to see me as a liability. I like the relationship we've built over the years, and I like the intimacy we've built — she argued, sitting down and nodding thanks for the food when Wooyoung made a point in approving starting dinner — But I don't take it the wrong way too, I love spending these moments with you, to enjoy it when Sannie isn't claiming you — she laughed it off.

—  ...You’re being serious? — Wooyoung said after almost spitting out the food after choking on her speech — Sorry, I... I didn't think we were a problem... I mean, it's true that we spend a lot of time together, but…

— Of course not, silly! You both being together was never a problem, I think you are very cute as a couple — she said, with an almost inviting smile — I was just kidding, please don't be sad…

— I'm not sad, I promise you. It's just that sometimes I think I have to learn to show my affection for other people better, I'm very closed when it comes to people other than San.

— And you think there's a reason for that?

— Not exactly... Actually, I think I've closed myself off a lot lately about showing affection because... — he sighed mid-sentence, exhaustedly — ...I got tired, you know? Relationships are complicated, especially if they don't see me as anything more than a commodity, or an "advantage".

— You think? I mean, that people see you that way?

— I am pretty sure.

She clearly didn't know how to answer that, and it took a moment, and a few sips from both of their glasses of wine, to resume the conversation. A good three minutes passed in deafening silence.

— I see you as an amazing person, if that reassures you.

Wooyoung spent a few seconds static. He didn't know if he should stop looking at her, if he was very red with embarrassment, if it was so clear in his face that it had sounded so melodically to his ears. He didn't know if she knew. And if she didn't know, now was the best time for him to say it.

But he didn't say it.

The words were on the tip of his tongue. Wooyoung had everything it took for them to come off calmly and without worrying that it would sound so artificial, but fear gnawed at his insides. He was always scared and seeing such a beautiful face right in front of him was even more frightening if he had to be honest with himself. The scene was dreadful, to the point that the only words he managed to utter right after that was a soft "thank you" very low, almost inaudible.

— You're really cute sometimes... Do I make you nervous, by any chance?

— It's not really that, it's just…

— It's just that he likes you a lot, you know? — Suddenly, a deeper voice echoed in the room and its owner sat right next to Wooyoung, putting his arm over his shoulder and giving the calm smile that only he was capable of doing — And me too, but only if you are comfortable with it, obviously.

Wooyoung's body instantly turned cold, and he was once again unable to react verbally or physically. The silence lasted a few more seconds before he plucked up the courage.

— What the fuck? Are you on your mind?

— Oh, I can't take it anymore to see you losing your touch around her, it's more than fair that she knows you're crushing on her, isn't it?

— Obviously, but not like THIS, CHOI SAN! Are you out of yourself?

— What makes you think that? — He asked, still calm — I'm trying to help me, and you!

— "Me and you"?

They both stopped their little argument to look directly at her.

— Sorry for saying it that way. I knew about Wooyoung, but… You...?

— You. What?

The small dialogue was enough to make San lose all composure and start laughing audibly while she only dared to giggle, exchanging glances between him and Wooyoung, who remained open-mouthed in disbelief.

— You’re serious? I can’t believe it! You have no idea how many weeks I've been listening to him talk about you!

— San, for God’s sake! She doesn't need to know everything like that, damn it! Can you be quiet for a moment?

— I don't know why you're being so skeptical about this, it's already said! You’re meant to be happy about it, Wooyoung!

— Why aren't you happy? Did I say something wrong?

— No! Never! It’s just that I planned it to happen differently.

— But does it really matter if I feel the same way about you?

That was the end of something, and at the same time the beginning of something that felt like a misunderstood utopia.

A while has passed since the confusion, with much more laughter from Choi San, and exhausted sighs from Wooyoung accompanied by Agatha's lines, who quoted in parts the moments when his crush had become so clear. The truth is that no one there knew how to act, except for Choi San, who affectionately approached every second of the conversation that passed quietly as if it were natural in his head, until the moment when he got close enough to be sitting among the two, his arms over both shoulders, stroking Wooyoung's hair on one side while asking her consent with his gaze to do the same. San, at that moment, felt like the smartest person in the whole world, because the effort hadn't been completely his and he had gotten exactly what he wanted from the beginning: both. San has always been a very spoiled guy, and more than that, very possessive even if platonically. He wouldn't admit it, but he couldn't bear hiding within his core the pertinent dissatisfaction with not having exactly what he wanted. It was unbearable. And the chance to use the same feeling as her boyfriend to get to that moment was literally the greatest gift he could have asked for.

He certainly won. And he knew it.

no one can love you more than i do

It didn't take many words or more opened bottles of wine for the mutual embrace to be approached without too many words being necessary, even because San had fantasized about that moment countless times in his own mind. Enough to concentrate on tracing the girl's jaw with her index finger in a caress in that same position long enough to make her blush. And Wooyoung falling in love with the boy first was not in vain. San had the power to win you over with a few acts that he had seen in few people throughout his life, and it was something unique, so it was no surprise to see the girl give in so easily, and in fact, it was even a relief for Wooyoung to see that it was working. No one was unconsciously drunk, and the awareness only made it all the more urgent, really. The carpet was stained with the tension between the three of them, which was only broken at the moment when the youngest's act of courage in taking the other side of his recent beloved practically happened. They both stared at her in devotion, agreeing with everything she said, which sounded like murmurs amid the act of facing every small physical act that was portrayed in front of the two. San had always been bigger in size, and it was noticeable at that moment, and Wooyoung's eyes, which always shone with the fact, feared himself in the slightest at that moment.

— Yeah...? — He murmured between his lips, answering one of her phrases, and it was only at that moment that it had become so clear in her eyes that everything had become so hot. Even if suddenly.

— Yeah... My day was good despite that, you know? You two scared me, but I'm so comfortable... — She said, taking off his jacket, the only thing that covered the top of the dress she was wearing, attracting the attention of the two, who looked away, Wooyoung to the rest of the room, and San respectfully back to her face — Is everything okay?

— I don't know, I think you could answer that actually. I'm still kinda confused.

— With what?

— Us.

— Did I not make myself clear about something?

— It's not that, I just want to make sure you're comfortable with everything.

— Everything?

Wooyoung crawled, stopping in front of her, sitting on his calves and holding her hands, looking at her with pleading eyes that only he knew how to do.

— I'm not the asking type, really. I'd rather have you begging — he said, the tone of humor in his voice — Do you want to come to the bedroom with us? It's okay, actually. If you just want some cuddles, that's exactly what you're going to get, but if you want something more, we'll accept it. It's up to you.

— You are very hasty, don't you think?

— For the amount of time I've been waiting to have you, you'd think I'm taking it too slow for not having kissed you yet.

— Oh, that's what I think actually.

Maybe the power of dominance could only exist in the domain where San remained, but Wooyoung practically devoured the skin of the girl's lips with such a veiled consent but so beautiful to be pronounced as that was. Her kiss was so dense, but so soft, that the act of sitting on her lap was just an annoyance to San, who now felt obliged to do something, even if she didn't want to interrupt such a beautiful scene. They stayed there in a melodic movement until the end of the air, Wooyoung's hands tracing her waist while he still remained with his eyes closed, the pleasure written on his face.

— I really think this here has to be taken to the bedroom — He spoke harshly, almost irritated but containing it, making Wooyoung chuckle and hug Agatha, as if to tease him — Come on.

And so it happened. The journey was calm, in fact, leaving behind the trail of a moment that started something so beautiful. Wooyoung's room might have the aforementioned boring white walls, but San's room was perfect for that specific moment of intimacy. Dark. Silence. Spotted light. San looked around and closed the door when they both entered, Wooyoung leading her straight to the bed in absurd happiness, almost as if he was excited like a child.

— Are you jumping up and down on the bed with joy?

— I don't think you understand yet HOW MUCH I wanted you to be here with me anyway. Ah, sorry for not asking earlier, I got very excited. Do you mind if I sit on your lap?

— Of course not, I thought it was cute — she said, running her hand over one of his cheeks, stroking.

— Oh... really? 

San, envying the attention he received and that she gave, went to the bed and sat in the corner, Wooyoung following him with his eyes knowing exactly what the whole scene was about.

— He was more excited than I was, you know?

— Really? I thought you were the most interested in all of this.

— He's just the most scandalous.

— San! — He exclaimed when he finished crawling towards him, this time taking advantage of sitting on his lap, calling the girl with his gaze to come closer too, who took up space on the same lap — You can't be like that with me, hm? We have a guest, there's no need to do this whole jealousy thing.

San couldn't answer right away, because she was staring at her hand, which now had the opportunity to make the same path that Wooyoung had done before by her waist.

— It's just that you're selfish.

— For God's sake, when have I been selfish, honey?

— I personally found him so inviting, San. And I'm here, why are you so worried? — Wooyoung, noticing the atmosphere, made room for her on the boy's lap, who soon hugged her waist with both hands at the first opportunity, possessive. She, on the other hand, put both hands on his face, taking him in the first kiss between them, which was as melodic as the one with the other boy, who watched excitedly before deciding to kiss the rest of the boy's skin that he had access to at that moment. instant, which included the neck and the back of the head

— It's just that I might seem possessive...

— You don't look like it. You are.

— Shut up — He spoke softly, amidst the kisses that adorned his body, being paused by yet another courageous act by Wooyoung, this time taking off the older's shirt. — But I really wanted you two for myself, noona.

— Noona?

— Hmhum…

— But look, Sannie. We got her here. Just for the two of us — He said, taking off his shirt and putting his chest on his boyfriend's back while hugging him from behind, very close — She's ours now, like you wanted, right?

— Right. And she’s so beautiful, I feel like I cannot… Satisfy myself just by the thoughts of her.

— Neither do I. Lay her down, please?

San did, and the following parts of the night feels more like history. But at the end of the night and in the exhaustion of the three sweaty bodies that, this time, took part in marking the bed as territory, she lay down between the two, hugging San and being hugged by Wooyoung, who was already squinting sleepily, sly even in the tone of voice.

— Honey, thank you. You're too beautiful, you know that?

— Hm? You think?

— Now I'm sure. Just like… Just like I'm sure I'm in love with you.

— We. We are.

[originalwinnercheesecake]

Chain of Iron Theories on the Killer’s 5 victims

tinSo we know that the chain of Iron will have a mysterious killer who will kill 5 shadowhunters. Here are my theories on who will die.

1.) Maurice Bridgestock

Lets start with the obvious first, of course this man will be killed. He is Inquisitor and that is a powerful yet cursed position, take it and you will die a horrible  death. I am hoping he dies pretty early, because I have a feeling until then he will be gunning for the Fairchild family. Remember he and his wife were the ones who really wanted Charles and Ariadne to marry. Charles and Ariadne were originally friends, who both figured that being forced into a hetro marriage was inevitable and that they could both do worse. Charlotte and Henry gave there blessing because they thought Charles and Ariadne were actually in love. Once Charles told this parents that he and Ariadne weren’t they immediately gave him permission to break the engagement and gave their blessing for him to marry someone else (who he doesn’t love either, Oh poor messed up fairchild family). This infuriated Bridgestock. Charles and Charlotte know to avoid him unless it is for official business, done in public, with witnesses. Does Matthew? Chapter 4 is called “The King is Dead”; so maybe the Inquisitor is the “King” listed. The next half of that phrase is “Long live the King” symbolizing the transition of power, so that would mean choosing a new Inquisitor. The most obvious ones to get the promotion is one of the TID dad’s given how close they are with Charlotte and the sway her vote would give. According to the cards it looks like she gives the position to Will (cough Gideon would have been a way better choice cough), we will see how that goes.

2.) One of the Wentworth’s

The Wentworth’s will have importance in the COI.They have been referenced and set up like the Lightwood’s in CWA. We know at least 3 of their names, we know that Martin Wentworth is kind of a thorn in Will and Gabriel’s side. We know that Piers and Rosamund have a... tense relationship with our mains, but do have their own friends and seem close to each other. Honestly with how much this family is mentioned/established I was thinking for a while that it would be just like the Lightwoods in CWP. Like maybe Piers was Eugenia’s ex boyfriend, maybe he had wanted to marry her but bad stuff was happening at home, his dad keeping secrets, and he couldn’t get blessings. Then that snip-bit at the party came out and I read about Eugenia being done with suitors and Piers hitting on Catherine. Piers still may be Eugenia’s ex, and he may trashed her rep and then moved on to courting his sister’s best friend. If so and he dies I will not miss him.

I would say Rosamund is pretty safe. She has a fiance now, and is planing her wedding. Wedding are actually great places for interactions and drama. Rosamund is good friends with Ariadne. Maybe Ariadne will try to bring Anna to the wedding, or maybe Ariadne will have Eugenia ask Anna to accompany her to the wedding, because Anna is less likely to say no to that, and then use that as a chance to “win her back.”

3.) At Least One of The Carstairs Parents

Risa Included. We all care about this family, we all wish their troubles could be over, and tat things and the next two books could be rainbows and sunshine for them. And we all know that will not happen. Terrible things will befall London. Elias is unbalanced from PTSD and weak from detoxing after years of addiction, Sona is weak from a difficult pregnancy/ recent childbirth, Risa is a mundane and lacks the ability to kill demons. They don’t have a lot of friends, all three are old. It is not fair and I hope whoever dies is at least given a good death.

4.) Cecily Lightwood Nee Herondale

I hope I am wrong, please let me be wrong. The family tree and CWP2 epilogue say that she will live through this, but those were written 7 years ago and are no longer accurate. The Second book always has one tragedy that will emotionally destroy us and leave us crying till the third comes out. It is unlikely that all The TID gang will live through another series. Other people have been guessing Gideon, but his branch already lost Barbara in COG2. In a book with so many nuclear families why kill from the same one twice? No it won’t be Gideon. After careful analysis I have determined Cecily is the most likely of the one to die.

First off Cecily didn’t come into TID until the final book and she was mostly squeezed in as a secondary character. That means that CC put less time and development into her and while she probably likes her, is maybe less attached to her. Secondly Cecily is some one very important to Both Will and Gabriel, two people Tatiana hates more than anyone in the world. She also played a key role in Killing the Lightworm, she caused it to wound itself to were Gabriel was able to kill it. For Tatiana Cecily would be three birds with one stone. Another reason she might die is Cecily is the only one of The TID characters who I cannot find any information on what her job/role in the clave is. Everyone else has a job listed, is seen investigating or talking at meetings, Cecily is just a mother, okay the best of the TSC mom’s. But having to take so much time off shadowhunting to raise her children might have put her out of practice, and having such a strong bond with her children, nieces, and nephews would make it all the more heart breaking if she died. One final reason is that unlike her Gabriel does have an overall arch. He idolized a fantasy of who his father was, had that come crashing down, then wanted to become someone different. His wife dying would put Gabriel just were Benedict was when Barbara Lightwood the first died: A single father with three kids, one of whom is coincidentally about the same age as Gabriel was when he lost his mother.

I love Cecily and writing this has made me very say (Please let me be wrong about her dying) but moving on...

5.) Tatiana Blackthorn Nee Lightwood

She will die. Tatiana probably joined Belial willingly, she probably does not see it, but Belial is not her ally. The truth is she is just as much Belial’s pawn as anyone he has tricked. When he is done using her and no longer has any use for her, he will kill her to keep her quiet. She will probably die last, her blood is Jesse’s and can be used as a sacrifice. She dedicated her life to resurrecting her son so she could have him back, and she will die with the knowledge that she has doomed him to Belial’s plans.

Bonus 6.) Charles Fairchild

Charles will not die. I originally I thought he might, but he is actually necessary as a foil/parallel to Matthew. Two brothers who grew up in the same family, yet have personalities and struggles that are literally flip sides of the same coin. Cassandra Clare has said she is planning on “developing” their relationship. She has also said Charles will be away for a lot of the book. So that does not leave a lot of space for this development in COI, and Charles has to make it until COT. I believe that he will disappear. No one will have any idea were he went or why, His parents will send out a search, while that is taking place Charlotte task Matthew with assisting her the way Charles usually does. Matthew will hate it. He will hate the piles of work and stuffy meetings; he will hate having less time to see his friends; and especially the cranky, foul mouthed, horrible politicians he has to deal with instead. As time goes by and the Killer at large Charlotte will become more desperate to find her older son. When she cannot find him her and Henry will start to fear the worst and cry over it at home.

Matthew will eventually start looking into his brothers disappearance, not because he misses him, but their parents are miserable and Matthew is tired of having to do Charles chores.  He might learn Charles and Alastair were “good friends” before and try to force information out of Alastair, Que to him learning one of his brothers secrets. While I do think Matthew will be the one to find Charles I do not think it will be until the end of COI or early COT, when Matthews life has morphed into a much bigger mess than it was before. I also do not think Charles will be in the same... way as he was before his disappearance. There will be a whole new list of issues when the brothers meet again.

[jenonctcity]

Destroy Dick December -  Donghyuck

Lee Donghyuck – Smut, Crack, Fluff

Warnings: Explicit content, sex toys, masturbation.

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: 00’s line take part in Destroy Dick December

 Like No Nut November, Destroy Your Dick December is a month-long challenge related to orgasms of the penis persuasion.

On the first day of December you orgasm once, on the second you orgasm twice, on the third you orgasm three times, and so on. 

Series

 Day 1:

You knew that this was going to be a strange month for you. Why the hell Donghyuck wanted to take part in Destroy Dick December completely baffled you and left you worried for his health. Also, he was fairly busy with being an idol this month, so you were curious as to how he planned on getting himself off over 10 times some days. At first you thought about refusing to help him, mostly to deter him from wanting to take part in the stupid challenge. But after the drama you caused from avoiding him because he wouldn’t have sex with you last month, you decided against it. You didn’t want to piss him off or upset him like that again.

“Why are you staring at me?” Donghyuck’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. You didn’t even realise that you’d been staring at him like a crazed person as you were stuck inside of your thoughts. You blinked at him and kept blankly staring at him, just trying to freak him out for you own enjoyment now. “Babe…?” You were both laying naked in his bed, originally basking in post orgasm bliss until you’d lost yourself in your mind. “You’re freaking me out loser!” He furrowed his eyebrows and pulled a face of disgust at you, nudging you underneath his covers with his leg.

“Boo!” You giggled, he flinched and frowned at you.

“I thought for a second that I’d fucked you so good your brain had turned to mush.” His lips pouted as he spoke, leaning forward and placing a lingering kiss to your mouth. You hummed in acknowledgment against his lips, rolling him so he was laying flat on his back with you perched over him.

“You wish you could.” You teased, stroking your hand up his naked chest and to his neck, letting it settle to his warm skin, your thumb rubbing against his throat.

“Oh, you know I could.” His hands came to settle on your lower back, his lips moving slowly in time with your own. “I have plenty of time to prove myself.”

“Speaking of,” You pulled away from his lips, his subconsciously chasing after yours as you withdrew. “What are you going to do when you go to America soon? Surely you’ll have to orgasm like 10 times when you go won’t you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, smirking slightly as you watched his lips open and close as he fumbled to answer.

“Shit…” He mumbled, frowning in realisation. “I’ll just have to sneak off and use my hand.”

“Well if you even make it that long in the challenge, I guess you could always ask Mark for some help.” You winked at him, earning yourself a swift smack on the ass from his disapproval.

“You’re so funny (Y/N), stop with the jokes my ribs are hurting from laughing so hard.” His face was void of emotion, and the sarcasm dripping off of his voice proved to you he wasn’t the slightest bit amused from your dig at his close friendship with Mark.

“Anyway, good luck.” You shrugged, snuggling into the blankets of his bed nonchalantly.

 Day 3:

“Baby you feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His lips felt like a blessing; cool to the touch and feeling like the refreshing breeze on a hot day. The connection you felt to him feeling stronger than the force of gravity holding you to the earth. His hands had a strong grip on the cushiony skin of your waist, your body completely void of any clothes. You were sat in his lap, your ass perched on his thighs and arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His skin felt hot and slippery to the touch, droplets of sweat dripping down from his temple to his jaw from the heat you were making in a joint effort. With every rise and fall of your lithe body you felt his cock dragging against your walls, the sweet pang of pleasure rushing through you as the tip of his cock hit all the right places.

“Cum inside of me.” You reluctantly pulled away from his lips to whisper in his ear, your teeth nipping at his earlobe in encouragement. “Fill me up.” You gasped, the ecstasy of sex greeting you like an old friend as he used his strength to make you bounce quicker in his lap.

“Not yet.” He bit at your shoulder, sucking a tender mark onto your shiny skin. Every touch he laid on you felt like it was happening for the first time, the intimacy and love blossoming like a rose in the spring knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“But I’m so,” You paused your words briefly to let out a string of moans as his hands trailed up your body to your swollen breasts, his fingers and thumbs pinching your tender nipples and tugging them gently. “close though.”

“Shh, hold on for me.” You bit your bottom lip, dropping your head down onto his shoulder and gripping at the hair on his nape. You squeezed your eyes shut, slowing down your movements to will your orgasm away from the burning flames of it slowly starting to engulf your stomach. “Look at me.” His voice held an air of dominance, your head lifting almost immediately to comply to his demands. Your half-lidded eyes gazed into his sultry orbs, his eyes flicking down to your lips before he captured them between his own. His tongue probed at your lips until you granted him entrance.

“I can’t.” You felt your thighs start to shake from fatigue, your chest rising and falling as your orgasm slowly creeped back up despite your actions to delay it. He didn’t say a word as he held you down onto his dick hard, grinding his hips up into you now willing your high on instead of preventing it. Just seeing you teetering on the edge was forcing his own orgasm to tighten in his stomach, the feeling coming on like a tsunami of feelings overwhelming his system. He bit at your bottom lip, tightening his grip hard enough for it to leave marks where his fingertips touched. You mewled a moan into his mouth, the band inside of you snapping and causing you to see stars. Your thighs shook more, toes curling and head lolling backwards as you let the feeling take over your entire body causing you to nearly go limp in his hold. Donghyuck bucked his hips up fast encouraging his orgasm on. It wasn’t long after you’d slowly started to recover from the strenuous activity that he grunted, his hips stilling momentarily before he rolled them slowly, riding out his high as ropes of white cum shot from the tip of his cock into your dripping tightness. His head burrowed into the safety of your neck, his after-sex clinginess not failing to make an appearance despite how in charge he was during the deed.

“I can feel your cum dripping out of me…” You whisper with a soft giggle, wiggling your hips and sighing at the content feeling of being full of cock and cum. He gasped, oversensitivity causing him to squirm underneath you. He gripped your body to stop you from moving, a whine leaving his pouted lips making his cool breath send shivers down your spine. He gently pried you off of him, laying you in front of him with your back against the soft sheets. He spread your legs apart, trailing a teasing finger from your clit down to your hole. His seed was slowly leaking from you, about to drip down when he sued his fingers to scoop it up. With a smug look etched across his face he plunged his fingers inside of you, a squelching sound resounding through the room from how wet you were with a mixture of your juices and his.

“You look so fucking sexy with my cum dripping out of you like this baby.” He pulled his fingers out, spreading them and examining the slickness between his fingers. With a smirk he raised them to your lips, raising one of his eyebrows suggestively. You flicked your tongue out to lick at the tip of his finger before brushing your tongue over your bottom lip. You opened your mouth to except his fingers, closing your lips around his two digits and sucking them clean. “Good girl.”

 Day 7:

You honestly had no idea if Donghyuck had managed to stick to his challenge. You hadn’t seen him yesterday on day 6 because of his busy schedule, and December 7th marks the day NCT 127 performs in Chicago, so you definitely wouldn’t be seeing him for the next few days. It was around mid-afternoon when you received a facetime request from Donghyuck. You weren’t doing anything besides laying on your bed and scrolling through Instagram, so you answered the call.

“Hey loser.” You smiled as you greeted him, holding your phone underneath your chin so he wasn’t getting the most flattering angle of your face.

“Hey shit face.” He smiled as he saw you, he looked so soft, tucked up in his hotel bed with the covers pulled up to his chin. “I miss you.” He pouted as he spoke, his eyes trailing over your face with a solemn look. He couldn’t help but think about how beautiful you looked even when showing him yourself in a less than pleasing angle.

“I miss you too, it feels strange not having you try to touch my vagina.” He laughed in response, biting his bottom lip as images of your heat dripping with want for him flashed through his mind.

“Heeey speaking of that, look in the bottom drawer of your bedside table.” He smirked which made your stomach flutter with anticipation. You had no idea what he had planned, or what he had hidden, but you knew that it would probably be something to do with sex. The bottom drawer of your bedside table was the drawer Donghyuck used to store all of his belongings at your place, so you never really went into the drawer unless you were putting away any clothes, you’d washed for him. You held your phone as you sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed so you could access the drawer with ease. You used one hand and opened the drawer, moving a pair of his boxers out of the way and letting out a loud laugh.

“Woooow, a vibrator.” You shook your head as you laughed, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you turned the rubber penis over in your hand.

“Do you like it?” He smirked, his tongue brushing across his bottom lip as he tried to determine your reaction over the slightly fuzzy screen.

“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more.” You said monotonously with a ton of sarcasm dripping from your words. The more you held the sex toy in your hand the more you let the desire to use it. It was a bright pink colour and felt surprisingly flesh like for a rubber toy. It was a good 7 inches long which you knew was more than enough to get the job done.

“Great!” You saw him shuffle around, the screen going white a few times as the duvet he had over him covered his camera. He placed his phone on its side, propped up against something with the camera facing him. You also noticed that he had his hard cock in his hand. You raised an eyebrow and let out a surprised huff, tilting your head slightly as you watched him slowly start to stroke his shaft.

“Well you kept that quiet.”

“The element of surprise baby,” He winked, stretching his legs out in front of him and letting them dangle off of the side of the bed. “now come on, make use of the present I went out of my way to get you.”

“Hang on.” You stood up quickly, leaving your phone on the bed as you rushed to the bathroom to quickly rinse the toy underneath some water then you grabbed the lube from your cabinet and generously rubbed it over the shaft of the toy. You rushed back, propping your phone up the same way Donghyuck had, ridding yourself of your shorts and panties before sitting on the bed with your legs spread for his viewing. “Tell me what to do.” You left on your t-shirt, knowing he had a thing for seeing you only in a shirt. His hand sat at the base of his cock, squeezing the hard flesh and tipping his head back in pleasure, the sight of you spreading your legs for him over a phone screen really riling him up.

“Tease yourself, pretend its my cock baby.” His voice had dropped an octave, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed in anticipation. You followed his words, holding the toy at the base where the switch was. You trailed the rubber rip over your slit, circling it around your hole multiple times before leading it back up to your awaiting clit. You gasped, biting your bottom lip harshly from how sensitive your clit was to the touch. You hadn’t expected that after not having an orgasm in the past two days you would be as desperate as you felt in that moment. “Good girl, turn it on.”

You looked down at the toy, pushing the switch from off onto on and gulping at the toy came to life. The vibrations were loud, and you were glad that your roommate had decided to stay at her boyfriend’s house. Donghyuck twisted his fist around his cock, letting go of it for a second before going back to pumping at the hard appendage lazily. “Fuck yourself for me baby girl.” You let the head of the rubber cock sink into your wet hole, it giving some resistance from lack of penetration. You twisted it as you pulled it out, pushing it back into you and wiggling it around to get it inside of you easier. Once the entirety of the toy was inside of you, you paused and let your head loll back from the ecstasy that vibrations were making you feel.

“It feels so good.” You let out a string of moans as you withdrew the toy from you, ramming it back inside of you and keeping up a steady rhythm. He pumped his cock with his hand in perfect time to how you were fucking yourself with the toy. “I wish it was you fucking me.” You pouted at that camera, your eyelids lazily dipping as it was too much energy to keep them open fully during this activity.

“That is to hot (Y/N),” He gulped, the sight of you fucking yourself with a neon pink vibrator with your legs spread wide for him. “fuck.” He sped up his hand, his head falling forward with his hair blocking his face from your view. You watched him intently, wanting to lay back on the bed for it to feel more like Donghyuck was actually fucking you, but you didn’t want to miss his impending orgasm when it was very clear to you that he was close.

“Cum for me Hyuck.” You used your most sultry voice to spur him on, your hand slipping up your t-shirt to pinch at your nipple which sent sparks flying through your body to your clit. “I’m so close, do you see what you do to me?” The sexiness in your voice made him throw his head back, a high-pitched moan escaping from his lips as his orgasm hit him, his abdomen tensing as his cock spurted white ropes of cum onto his bare skin. He squeezed at is cock, dragging his fist from the base to the tip to milk all the cum from it. He looked up from his violently red cock to stare at you on the screen of his phone. He watched in awe as you mewled out a string of profanities, images of him cumming on your hot skin flickering through your mind and causing the tight knot in your stomach to snap. Your face scrunched up and then relaxed as you came onto the noisy toy. The buzzing became too much all of a sudden and you haphazardly threw the toy onto the floor, not really thinking about the mess it made on the rug. You heard a laugh from your phone and had momentarily forget that your boyfriend was watching your every move.

“Show me how wet you are baby.” He smirked, his phone now in his hand with his damp face close up to the camera. You smiled, still trying to catch your breath as you reached forward and snatched your phone up from its place. You held the camera down to your centre between your legs. The quality of what Donghyuck could see was poor, but he could see how your juices were spread over your swollen pussy and the tops of your thighs were your legs met with your heat. “So wet for me.” His voice was back to being low with a sexy rasp to it.

“I love you…” You sniffed, tears flooding to your eyes as the reality that you couldn’t snuggle into his chest to have after sex clingy cuddles. His smirk dropped instantly, a concerned look settling on his beautiful features as he watched a pixelated tear stroll down your flushed cheek.

“Hey no don’t cry!” He pouted, a gut-wrenching feeling settling in his stomach as he watched you get upset over his absence.

“I’m sorry, I miss you and it’s only been two days.” You sighed, wiping at your eyes with your thumbs. “I want cuddles.” You let out a soft giggle, pouting your lips out cutely.

“When I get back, we can make love and cuddle how does that sound?” His voice was gentle and enticing to you, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. You nodded your head eagerly, sniffing back your emotions.

“The I guess you’ll have to fuck me a lot more because of the challenge.” You rolled your eyes and sighed, scratching at your hair awkwardly. He shook his head in disagreement.

“No, I actually quit it yesterday, the thought of masturbating on the plane wasn’t really appealing.” You snorted a laugh, standing up and taking your phone with you to your bathroom to clean yourself up.

“So…you won’t be getting Mark to jerk you off then?” You smirked at your own joke, an annoyed groan leaving his throat.

“I’m hanging up now! Love you.” He blew a kiss at the camera, not giving you a chance to reply as he cut off the call, leaving you to laugh at your own joke on your own.

 Destroy Dick December: Lee Donghyuck – Fail.

[krreader]

SEVENTEEN scenario → calling you clingy.

pairing: seventeen x reader fandom: seventeen warnings: / genre: fluff ; angst word count: 2.2k+

a/n: aaaaaah, I’m so happy I finally got to work on some more seventeen stuff so I hope you like it love!

ask box | masterlists | faq | twitter | ko-fi | REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

choi seungcheol

As the leader, Seungcheol obviously had a lot of responsibilities. You knew that too. You had known that ever since you first started dating him and you respected that and were okay with it.

But you missed him a lot these days. Comeback was always hard on your relationship.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind when he was in the bathroom getting ready to leave again.

“Can you stay for a little longer? Just.. twenty minutes or something?”

Seungcheol sighed, “Please don't be clingy like this.”

You immediately stopped kissing his neck, instead you took a step back and cocked your head to the side, “Clingy? This was the first night we spent together in four weeks. One. Night. I've not complained once in the past four weeks and I'm clingy?”

“You know what I meant,” he turned around, “Don't turn this into an argument.”

“Oh, this isn't an argument, sweetheart. This is me telling you to maybe appreciate me a little more, instead of insulting me when I’ve done nothing but respect you and your job..”

“(Y/N), wait..-” he wanted to pull his own hair out when you left the bathroom, mostly because he knew you were right..

He should have thought about his words more carefully.

yoon jeonghan

He never meant to snap at you, he didn't quite know what was the reason for it, maybe the stress, maybe the exhaustion, but one second everything was fine and the next Jeonghan called you clingy and wanted you to leave him alone.

Which you obviously did, you weren't in the mood to argue.

And you knew he'd come running back to you in less than thirty minutes to apologize.

You were sitting on the couch when he entered the living room of your apartment.

“What are you doing?” he asked shyly.

“I'm on my phone,” you said nonchalantly.

“Are you.. playing that game? Pokémon Go?”

“No, the Harry Potter version,” it was clear that he wanted to make conversation, but you gave him the cold shoulder.

And it worked wonders. With a heavy sigh he dropped down on the couch next to you, “(Y/N), I am so sorry about what I said before.. I don't know what happened, but I never meant to snap at you like this, you have to believe me..-”

He continued on for about five more minutes while you just continued playing your game.

And when he was finally done you smiled at him, “It's fine, I'm not angry, I just wanted to see how worked up you'd get over this.”

His mouth was slightly ajar, then he murmured, “You're mean.”

“Only when I have to be,” you winked.

joshua hong

Joshua felt bad the second the words “Why are you so clingy today?” left his mouth and saw how hurt you were from it.

You had realized he was having a bad day and wanted to cheer him up by staying a bit longer than usual, but it clearly backfired.

“I'll just.. go then..-”

“No, no, no, wait..-” he grabbed your hand before you could do so and turned you around to pull you close, cradling your head against his chest, “I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to say that. I should have thought before speaking, I'm sorry.”

You forced yourself not to cry, focused on his heartbeat and nodded, slowly relaxing in his arms again.

You knew he didn't mean it.. or at least you hoped he didn't.

wen junhui

This wasn't a new argument you had. It was as if he always ended up saying the “You're clingy” line whenever he felt like shit and needed to let it out on somebody. And unfortunately, it was always you.

At this point, though, you've gotten so used to it that you simply rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say,” you continued to place the food in front of him, “Eat this.”

“No, I told you, I'm not..-”

“Stop arguing with me and just eat it. Am I your mother or your girlfriend? Jeez,” you plopped down on the couch and waited for him to eat it and of course he did. He did because he hadn't eaten a single thing today and you knew he hadn't, that's why you came here so late at night.

Not because you were clingy, but because you cared.

And once he was done, he turned around to look at you like a little child and said: “I'm sorry, (Y/N).”

“Whatever,” it was sad how used you’ve gotten to this..

kwon soonyoung

You visited him in the dance studio one night after he had been ignoring your calls for hours.

You were worried about him lately, you just wanted to make sure he was okay, but the moment he saw you, his face dropped.

“There's a reason I've not been answering my phone. Stop being so clingy, (Y/N)! I'm busy!”

You stared at him for a second, then you dropped the bag of food as well as the two bottles of water, “Well then.. sorry that I care.”

And with that you angrily left.

Soonyoung was still out of breath from dancing, then he slowly walked over to the food and smiled sadly when he saw you had bought all of his favorite things.

The smile faded though when he realized what he had just called you.. the one that cared so much about him that she'd go out of her way to bring him all of this.

“You idiot,” he muttered to himself.

jeon wonwoo

Wonwoo didn't have a lot of time as an idol, but he kept trying to squeeze seeing you into his schedule. Which, in itself, was horrible, given the fact that you were his girlfriend.

You kept texting him, asking if you could stop by tonight – like you had planned for a while – and if so, at what time.

And what you got as a reply was: “Can you stop being clingy for a while? I'm trying to figure it out.”

He did not get a reply. And after re-reading what he had sent, it was no wonder.

And you weren't surprised when he was the one that showed up with a bouquet of flowers and food that night, as well as an apologetic smile on his face.

“I have food, snacks, flowers and if you want, I can stay the night?”

“You're a bit clingy right now, you know?” you mocked him.

“I know,” he kissed your cheek, whispering an, “I'm sorry,” into your ear, then went into the kitchen.

lee jihoon

Jihoon was hardworking, but it came to a point where you rarely saw him anymore because of how much he worked and naturally, when he continuously canceled your date nights, you had to come to him at some point.

And it's not like you were staying for hours, you usually just stopped by at the studio with food, wanted to eat with him and then left again – after the occasional tumble, because yes, sex was also kind of hard to have when he was rarely at home anymore.

But today seemed to be a bad day, you noticed it the moment you walked in. He looked a lot more tense than usual.. might be because of the deadline he had coming up soon.

“Here, I wasn't sure what you wanted so I just bought a bunch of stuff. The lady at the store even gave me an extra portion because she said you needed to..-”

“(Y/N), can you just leave, please? You are way too clingy these last few weeks and right now I just don't need that, okay?” and with that sentence, he turned back around to his computer and put his headphones back on like he didn't just insult you.

Yes, it hurt, but you also knew him well enough. This wasn't the real him, this was stressed him who couldn't think straight.

So you just left the food there and went home without another word.

It was only when Jihoon was finally done and saw the food on his desk that he let out a heavy sigh and brushed his hands over his face.

He instantly texted you and apologized, asked if he could come over and talk to you about it all and also, properly apologized.

You said yes.

lee seokmin

You were at their dorm for dinner, were having a great time, your boyfriend telling a story, when he suddenly said: “Ah, (Y/N) can be so clingy sometimes.”

And boy, the awkward silence that followed after was horrible.

The rest of the boys that were eating with you all suddenly looked very interested in their dinner, Seokmin looked shocked about what he just said out loud and you stared at him with an open mouth and furrowed eyebrows.

“Excuse me?”

“I.. I didn't mean to say that, I don't know why I did..-”

You didn't want to cause a massive scene, not in front of the boys, so you just placed your napkin on the table and got up, “Then you better figure it out,” and with that you wanted to walk out of the apartment.

But Seokmin sprinted after you, chased you until he caught you at the elevator where you two started arguing.

And even though you didn't want the boys to hear, all of them stood at the door like they were watching a drama.

“Can someone get some popcorn?” Seungkwan asked, getting hit on the arm by one of his hyungs.

kim mingyu

“Do you realize that we never argue?” Mingyu asked one day out of the blue.

“Is.. that a bad thing?” you laughed, looking up from your book.

“No, it's just something that I realized today.”

“Well,” you turned to him, “Do you want to try arguing?”

“To be honest, I wouldn't even know what to argue about,” he narrowed his eyes at you, “How about.. You're clingy!” he tried to sound serious, but then instantly started laughing.. as did you.

“You're so bad at this, no wonder we don't ever argue, you have no talent for it.”

Which might not be the worst trait in the world.

xu minghao

God, did he feel bad. The second the words left his mouth, he was the one who was about to cry because he could see how much he hurt you.

“No, (Y/N). No, please don't cry,” but you already did and he instantly kissed your head and pulled you closer, “I'm sorry, I'm just so stressed lately, I shouldn't have let it out on you.”

But you already felt bad..

“I'm just.. going to leave,” you said in between sobs, but Minghao wouldn't let go of you.

“No, I don't want you to go, please stay for the night. For as long as you want. I'll miss you when you leave.”

But now he had already said the 'you're clingy' line and you just couldn't forget it.

boo seungkwan

You didn't know what started this argument, but here you two were, suddenly saying what annoyed you about the other person.

“You are so.. clingy! It's driving me nuts!”

“Oh, is that so, yeah?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “Would you rather me not seeing you for a while then? How about we take a break, is that what you want?”

“Fine! Go then!”

“Fine, I'll go!”

Seungkwan pouted for approximately ten seconds, until he heard the front door close, then he sprinted after you, because no, he obviously didn't want you two to take a break.

And you didn't.

You never did..

hansol vernon choi

Vernon had told you about the upcoming world tour and, naturally, you expressed that you were both happy, but also sad about it. Happy, because you knew what awesome experiences these world tours were for the boys. Sad, because world tour meant not seeing him for a very long time.

“It's because you've been so clingy lately, usually you don't mind it,” he laughed. He hadn't meant it in a bad way, but that's the way you took it.

“I've been clingy because I knew you'd leave and I wanted to at least spend a little more time with my boyfriend,” your voice showed the hurt and Vernon instantly sat up straighter when you got up.

“Wait, I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know. But the fact that this all seems to be so easy for you while I'm sitting at home missing you so badly..-” your shoulders slumped, “Makes me think you don't care about this relationship as much as I do.”

Vernon stared after you, his mouth opening and closing again because he didn't know what to say.

Why?

Because.. maybe.. you were right?

lee chan

Your relationship was still new, this was the very first argument you ever had.

And in a way, you could see why he said what he said.

Because you were clingy. But only because you were in that lovey-dovey phase.

Ultimately, it was you who gave in with a sigh and nodded, “What do you want me to do then? Should I leave?”

“No.. no, don't go, just.. understand where I'm coming from,” Chan brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I will reply when I can, I will come over when I can.. trust me. But some days it's just hard to do anything other than work. I need you to understand that.”

You nodded with a slight pout.

But you did understand..

[ddaenghoney]

chapter thirteen

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): lot of manipulative aspects in conversation.

Word count: 5133

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

Jimin finds himself contemplative. Standing motionless outside of the elevator, he looks on at the button to call for it still unlit due to his lack of movement. He’s supposed to hit the downwards facing arrow, earlier intending to work on choreography before the instructor arrived to work on finalization and moving on to the next song’s dance. But he doesn’t click the button, finding himself uncertain if he wanted to do that or follow the teeming sensation in his head to hit the button that would send him upwards.

He sighs, shaking his head and thinking about the ridiculousness of him just standing there. Rather than mull around in his thoughts it’d be more useful to do practically anything else, so he impulsively reaches to click a button. Stepping back, Jimin rubs his jaw, eyes glancing back down the hallway towards Yoongi’s studio.

For a second your simple sentence registers in his ears. A thanking comment that you didn’t have to say, especially considering how lackluster his involvement really was in the situation. Yoongi did more for you, and, had Jimin not spoken up in the midst of his annoyance overflowing out of his mouth, Yoongi likely would’ve said more. He clearly wanted that producer to stop being disrespectful to you.

Jimin falters at the memory, hand trailing to mess around with his hair as he thinks about your avoidance from the area by entrance into Yoongi’s studio. Not having to ask permission, it was simply granted to you, where it’s commonly understood by the majority of employees in the company that Yoongi hasn’t simply become comfortable with everyone to act like that. While he’s definitely polite and civil, there’s undoubtedly a line between himself and the original employees of SoundWave. Meanwhile, you’re an exception to the fact.

He bites his lip, attempting to silence the jealousy that he doesn’t have a right to feel strongly about anymore. Jimin made the choice to create a rift between the two of you, and there’s no sense in him trying to find away back across it anymore. The gap is too foundationally damaged with nothing in sight to fix its stability in a long-lasting way.

He enters the elevator, thoughtlessly clicking a floor number as he steps away from the couple of people also inside. Watching the stories climb, he tries to think about the future comeback he’s working on. There’s still much to record, but with the title track completed and choreography being mastered for it, Jimin finds the date of release running towards him at a speedy pace.

Another album to drop without his creative input poured into it in the way that you and other producers have worked so hard for him and every other artist. His name next to tracks, on the album cover, face in advertisement, and nothing in his heart to solidify the bond between himself and the music. The thought didn’t occur to him so strongly before, but now that he doesn’t see your happiness in showing him songs you’ve created, he can’t find anything exciting about the prospect of release.

Jimin can’t watch you pour emotion onto paper, or listen to the untamed ramblings of you passionately explaining songs given to other artists. He has to corrupt your meaning to come up with his own, behind lyrics he would have never written himself. He wants to scream onto pages with ink in the way you have. The scribbles in notebooks at his apartment and lines saved into his phone’s notes cling to the hope of further work, but wear away in abandonment. They aren’t enough.

Jimin steps out of the elevator, head bowing as Yerin’s secretary notices him. The button he pressed dragged him upwards in another attempt. Like his last visit, Jimin is unannounced, causing the lady greeting him to smile with apprehension of what he wanted. He could’ve succumbed and hid away in the lower basement levels where the dance studios are, but he’s on the top of the building again.

“Is she in?”

It takes a hesitant affirmative and a few more slowly spoken sentences for Jimin to be left standing in front of the secretary’s desk as she pages into the office. He didn’t have a reason to come up here this time. About a week earlier he had the faintest plan of asking permission to work with a producer on a small independent whim. Now he walks into the CEO office without a plan at all, uncertain of what he actually wants if he gives himself a moment to be honest with himself.

“Jimin,” Yerin greets the unassuming man as he carefully shuts the door behind him. Her eyes remain fixed on her computer as she types quickly, eyes unhindered by his presence. “Take a seat, this won’t take me long.”

Jimin does as she says, forgetting to nod his head as a response. He considers the implication of him coming here again so soon, wondering why he felt so impulsively moved to go and speak to Yerin again. The clutter of his head feels entirely unprocessed, but he thinks of you.

Recalling the hurt in your expression when he told you that he can’t accept what you wanted changed in your contract, Jimin sits with his hands meshed together, silently thinking about how he found himself so afraid to tell you that.

He knew completely that you wouldn’t be able to accept him staying beside you with an opposing perspective, because Jimin knows that despite all the crap that SoundWave gives you that you still understand the worth of what you do underneath all of your own insecurity of how to go about getting what you want. He didn’t want to lose you, but in agreement he’d lose everything he had worked for. However, the fact is that in so many ways what Jimin has was built for him. Jimin bites his lip, thinking that beside his own selfishness, he should’ve supported you.

The news of your leave comes to the forefront of Jimin’s mind. Rumors similar to the producer’s indignant comments swarmed the halls since the day of, but all cleared in front of him by your defiant statement that you quit. Splitting from the path you were on to start creating your own, you gave the greatest shock to the company. Even the tiny inklings shoved into the bottom of Jimin’s conscious, didn’t think you’d ever go this far when nothing outside of your choice is clear.

“Now then.” Yerin stops typing, shifting her chair to face Jimin directly as his eyes lift up to her. The person you overcame despite her chilling methodologies keeping the company arranged in perfect order. “What brings you here?”

“Y/N’s quitting.” Jimin’s voice speaks as small as he feels compared to Yerin and you. Obviously she knows this, and it isn’t something he should come from out of nowhere to restate unless looking for an argument, but his head didn’t consider words. Just the fact that there’s a crack where fingertips can reach through layers of deceptively bright veiling curtains.

The very corner of Yerin’s lip slides into a frown, the hand on her desk curling into an arch as the random sentence remains in the air without an addition. She notes an absence of apprehension in Jimin’s eyes as he stares back at her in the way one does after a realization. “She decided not to continue with the company, that’s correct.”

An evident erasure of any spite is removed from her tone, but not the gleam in Yerin’s eyes that Jimin sees through. Knowing she’s already irritated from your situation-- from losing control in the largest hidden piece to SoundWave. She’s good at hiding it to remain mostly poised.

“This means things are going to change.” Knowingly said. Not an observation, a promise. Jimin doesn’t smile, but his expression appears to be uplifted. Yerin’s hand curls more, fingers colliding with her palm, trying to find clairvoyance to study him, but his reaction is opposite of anything she expected to hear from Jimin concerning your leave.

“You’re not upset.” Yerin finds herself speaking the oddness aloud, not realizing so until she closes her mouth following the sentence. Appearing like a dissimilar person to the one she knows, Jimin pauses only for a moment, before air escapes his mouth in the smallest of laughs. Surprised as well.

“I know how much everything here rides on her.” He says, eyes casting down in consideration of everything you’ve accomplished for SoundWave. A gentle smile slips onto his expression, “I’ve been terrified of her getting sick of the crap she gets here.” He doesn’t miss a beat to rephrase himself, just sitting back into his seat while Yerin’s eyes follow his movements through a hardened gaze.

“Because you would never stop telling me how I’d never make it without her doing everything in the background. For years now that’s the only stance you’ve had, no matter how much I expressed how willing I was to do things for myself. It’s just always been you telling me no. That I’m not good enough-- that it’s not worth the risk.”

“It isn’t.” Yerin speaks up, sighing to refrain from clicking her tongue. She rolls her shoulders to sit up properly, speaking fluidly and without tact, “Your purpose here is for singing, dancing-- being the face of the Jimin persona the public want. Your artistry as a producer of any kind isn’t fruitful to take a risk in when you weigh it against people with endowed talent like Y/N and other producers in the company. This isn’t just about you Jimin. At the end of the day, what sells is more important than your desire to try your hand at songwriting.”

“She’s leaving.” Jimin says, words exiting his mouth with an audible grain of discontentment, that alters into rising frustration, “You’ve made it so she has nothing if she were to quit and she still has. You can’t rely on her to keep everything here functioning like it has-- it would only make sense that you change how things are handled and give the artists--” Jimin straightens from his chair, shoulders stiffening as he practically pleads through biting words, “Give me an opportunity to actually do what everyone out there thinks I do.”

Jimin remains still, watching for any reaction of his words, but Yerin only stares in a calmly pensive manner. No irritation of his outspoken demands, not even shock from his voice’s unintentional rise in volume from his emotions. Jimin keeps himself from faltering, thinking its best to remain firm no matter how long she appears to consider his words in silence.

“This isn’t entirely my decision to have the artists from creating their own music. It’s the board’s collective agreement to produce whatever will sell best from experience.” Cool words ease into the room, her fist uncurling so that her index finger can tap the quietest of beats against her desk. Yerin examines Jimin, finding him absent of a response yet. She shrugs a shoulder once, “To be completely honest with you, I’d rather go back to make a new deal with Y/N than give every artist a sudden opportunity at self-production, but she’s set in her ways.”

“She deserves better than what she gets here.” Jimin speaks without hesitation, though a piece of his mind becomes inquisitive as a faint smirk grows on Yerin’s face.

“And you don’t? Your contract ends at the end of the year.” She says, voice more sly than Jimin has ever heard. “Why not just leave at the end of it too?”

Jimin’s eyebrows crease in surprise, staying quiet while he tries to consider what she means. He catches the sound of his heart once and then it stays in his ears, feeling as though he’s done something wrong. He hadn’t considered his disposability. But that’s a factor isn’t it, one that should’ve crossed his mind, and maybe in a normal train of thought it would’ve. In other situations maybe he’s had the warning in the back of his mind that they could simply get rid of him since he’s replaceable. Replaceable. The word repeats with his heart, making Jimin bite on his inner cheek.

“You’re a liability to other companies.” Yerin leans her chin against her hand, watching him boredly. Her expression different from calm, similar to apathetic instead. “Your career is what it is because of how you’ve been marketed, conceptualized, created-- all synthetic.” Her finger continues a tap that’s out of beat from the way Jimin feels his heart, out of sync, creating a disarrayed ambiance. “You aren’t anything without what we make for you, Jimin.”

Her words send Jimin’s memories back, to every other instance of conversation with her privately for the past five years. The insinuations varying in how opaquely they’re depicted, but also equating to the strings attached to his performances on stage. How crafted his public persona is. Yerin’s reminders that he’s the face alone, and all else is because of collaborated work behind the scenes. Telling him again and again, if Y/N leaves his career could shatter right along with it.

“Just because Y/N leaves doesn’t mean we can alter the entirety of how the company operates. That’s like asking for public scrutiny.” She exhales, rolling her shoulders again in a relaxed manner. Jimin’s eyes don’t leave her, too frozen like suffocation. “Maybe if you left together with her, you could’ve made something, but from the looks of things that’s not something I need to be concerned about, or else you would’ve submitted resignation the same day she did.”

Jimin wonders how you were able to walk off without anyone. Under Yerin’s gaze and the tangling of her words, Jimin feels no freer than usual. Then he realizes that what she says is valid. You’re the one with talent. Yerin knows he can’t leave on his own because of that. Nothing on his own, Jimin is just what they’ve made. Like Yerin has always told him.

Making him align with the company’s perspective to keep your desires subdued. Tricked perhaps, but it’s true that a collapse without you is possible. An engrained thought.    

Jimin sits back in the chair, eyes glancing from her to a random point in space in front of his legs. There’s no tension in his body, but he feels as though he’s lost.

---

You stretch your legs, sock-clad feet lying atop the opposite armrest. Staring up towards the ceiling, you let a song play through your ears for the fifth time in a row, while your fingers tap softly along to the beat where they rest on the pillow you clutch against your stomach. The airpods aren’t soundproof like the headphones Yoongi uses when editing, so the typing of his fingers on the computer keyboard ring in the back of your mind. You barely notice when the monotonous sound breeches your concentration on the finalized version of the first song you worked on with him, but you find difficulty in ignoring when he starts typing again after abrupt pauses to take curious glances back in your direction.

“You know, I’m not really upset about that producer--he’s always been like that about my job.” You say plainly, unlocking your phone to pause the song, realizing that the comment would result as it does in Yoongi spinning halfway on his chair to better face you. “I kind of figured people would start rumors anyways.”

“Then maybe I’m more annoyed with that guy than you are.” A tiny sheepish curl begins at the corners of his lips, prompting an endeared smile on your own expression as you eventually shrug. “When did you start hearing the conversation?”

“About whenever he called out to Jimin.” You sit upwards on the couch, tossing the small pillow to the table and pulling your legs up to your chest so your chin can situate on your knees. “I thought he was going to notice me, but he looked in the other direction.” A small scoff escapes your lips sounding like a bitter amusement in Yoongi’s ears. Yoongi’s head nods slightly as he stands up to his feet, strolling to sit on the couch where your legs had occupied prior. “You sounded mad-- I would’ve been scared if I was him.”

Yoongi sighs at the memory of his tone, covering his slightly embarrassed smile with his hand as he rubs his face, sinking further back into the couch. You giggle at his reaction, lightly bumping the tip of your foot against his thigh to tease him. “Who wouldn’t? What a way to get information-- trying to get it through me,” He mumbles his words with his bottom lip prominently poking with his words, “In the first place I wasn’t going to let him say whatever about you anyways. Especially not go around saying you got fired.”

“Yeah,” Your eyes glow happily like your expression as you watch him talk. Yoongi shrugs, crossing his arms to keep himself quiet at risk of sounding silly. “Thank you, Yoon. It made me happy to hear you defend me like that, honestly.” You bite your lip to refrain from more laughter as he just shrugs again and purses his lips together in a muted satisfied smile. “Really I am!” You go on thinking his shy disposition is cute, but Yoongi only nods, mumbling in a joking way,

“Yeah, such a genuine way to thank someone.” He knows you’re speaking with sincerity, but he teases in return just concluding that you may try again with a higher-pitched voice to get him to believe you. Yoongi’s head turns to you as you shift on the couch, curiously raising an eyebrow as you simply crawl the pace to him and tug him into a hug,

“Thank you,” The final syllable trails on in a whine, as Yoongi laughs outright in response to your attempt to get him to stop pouting. His arm as well goes to wrap around your waist, unintentionally nudging you beneath the curve of your side prompting you to suddenly jerk. Pulling him back with you, Yoongi’s upper body lands on yours as you make a squeak of shock from being tickling and fall backwards onto the couch. “Don’t tickle me; I’m trying to be nice and thank you.”

“Accident,” He chuckles, adjusting himself into a less awkward angle as your hugging arms around his ribcage tighten warningly as though you attempt to get revenge. “What are you trying to do; wrestle me to apologize, angel?” Yoongi laughs, listening to your abrupt voice dismissing the idea sheepishly. “If we’re trying to replay the nap from the other day then maybe I should set an alarm since you fell asleep instead of waking me up.”

“How dare you call me out.” You can’t help but grin in embarrassment as he laughs, both recalling the hour nap that ran closer to three. “You made me fall asleep too.” Helpless mumbling excuses leave your lips, while Yoongi makes a disapproving whine at the passing of blame. “Also, how come you get to lie on me again? What if I want a pillow?”

“You threw the pillow onto the table.” He says bluntly, flicking his chin in the direction, as his waist wiggles to break free of the hug. You let out a single laugh, having forgotten that fact entirely and feel silly about his reminder. “But fine, since you’re complaining,” Yoongi’s voice trails off, simply taking a grip on either of your shoulders to bring you along with him as he lays his head on the opposite armrest.

Catching up with the altered positions, you feel a blush creeping along your cheeks while Yoongi’s arms lazily encompass your waist, leaving your face hidden from his sight as you situates against his chest. Biting your lip, you try not to think too much about the placement of your hands, but are at a loss of knowing where to put them. As your ears catch the faint melody of his heartbeat, you feel able to relax just the same with the weight of your forearms flattening also on his torso.

“Comfy?” The faint coarseness of Yoongi’s voice sounds mostly relaxed and gentle, but the questioning tone is genuine. You think even a little nervous that he did something wrong, but your head properly nestling against him relieves most of that worry. Evaporating it in entirely as your voice trickles peacefully,

“Yeah, very.” You don’t think he’s serious about taking a nap, considering the later hour of the afternoon and that you both would likely leave for the day soon. Nonetheless, not an ounce of energy in your body gives you the idea of scooting away from him. Too relaxed with in the warmth of Yoongi’s arms and gentle sway of your head rising and lowering from his even breaths, you lie enjoying the moment. Your hands twitch in little movements as indecision in your head goes back and forth, but eventually you ease them around Yoongi’s waist as well. Satisfied with the action as he shifts up only enough for you to hug onto him as he is to you.

“Maybe it’s not something for me to say, but I’m really proud of you for talking back to that guy, angel.” Yoongi admits softly, glancing as you wiggle a little and squeeze your arms tighter around him. Stifling any chuckling, he sees the faintest of rose decorating your complexation, and rubs his hands along your back, smiling as he questions, “What? You were cool.”

“Stop,” You laugh slightly, then sigh, “I was just annoyed. I don’t know.” Your cheek presses against Yoongi as you reconsider your actions, “I didn’t really feel scared or anything though… It felt kind of easy to speak-- defend myself, actually.”

“That’s good.” Yoongi smiles, letting his neck relax so his eyes can find the ceiling while he goes on, “I think you’re a strong person. Even if things are hard for you, you still do what’s best for yourself.”

“Whatever that is.” You mumble, not intending to discredit Yoongi’s words, because they really made you feel better about it all. Still you can’t help wonder about the future when the present seems so mixed up.

“Things will work out.” He replies simply, knowing it’s not a secure comfort. They’re ultimately just words with only what Yoongi knows about you to make up their validity, but in some ways he believes the simpleness is closer to what you would like to hear. Rather than dedicate paragraphs to idealistic scenarios, he supports you in a genuine sentiment enshrouded with the security of holding you in his arms.

Though there are ways for him to help you in a more pressing way. The idea of it is practically rebellious to the structure of his public persona, but the care of it bothers him less in the moment than it did when he rambled his worries to Hoseok. At the forefront of his mind is your situation, but also all of the potential associated with the idea. The small piece of it that could work for both of you even.

“I was thinking a lot lately,” Yoongi draws out the sentence, hesitant of the words due to their likelihood to change the temperment of the moment. But the rumor of you getting fired plays through his head, as well as the other instances of unfair treatment you’ve received. How you’re willing to leave with nothing. You hum for him to continue, your body completely lazed into his own. “If you want to, I want to release those songs we made together.”

There’s a beat of quiet, then you’re breeching away to support yourself on your arms. Looking down at Yoongi in an incredulous calm, your eyes narrow thinking you didn’t hear him correctly. He can’t help but smile up at you, finding your bewildered small frown endearing, but says again, easier now that it’s been said once, “I want to release them. Independently from my brand; just as Yoongi. With your name there too.”

“You’ll,” You stutter, still thrown off from the prospect, and the air in your throat hitching because of mention at your name being put beside something you’ve worked on. “You’ll get in trouble though, Yoon. I don’t want you to get in trouble for me.” You frown, wishing that you could say yes as instantaneously as he probably hoped for you to.

Yoongi’s undeterred by your response, hands running tiny slow streams along your back still to give a moment of calm. “I’ve released stuff independently before, angel. They don’t mind.”

“But they will if my name’s in there.” You swallow thickly, frown growing into more worry as your eyes deflect from his as you think of reprimand that would come his way undoubtedly.

“You’re not renewing your contract. They can’t stop you from doing what you want.” He strays a hand from your back to find your cheek, gently coaxing you to look back towards his eyes. Yoongi notices the evident spike of worry for his career, finding it similar to what he thought of his own career when Hoseok was going through his scandal. Then unwilling to help because of the risk. “Frankly, I don’t really care anymore if this company wants to get mad at me. My last one already stopped me from helping one friend when I could’ve, and I’m not going to let this one do it again.”

For a second you think that Yoongi’s desire to help you out is your fault for always bring your troubles into his life. That you’ve made him feel obligated. But you realize you’ve never indicated that you wanted to release the music. You didn’t join in collaboration with him under the pretense that you could find a way to drop the music into the public-- it was just his offer to give you an outlet when you originally were sad. But it became three songs before either of you realized. Never a discussion of release, and you didn’t expect anything because of a predisposed view you’ve grown used to.

“I want to.” Yoongi tells you softly, his eyes inspecting your expression as you feel a shift from worry into something different. He watches the space below your eyes, thumb brushing along your cheek to collect a tiny tear, and he notices your jaw appears to be clenched like you’re holding back. A faint smile drifts onto his face, “Do you?”

“I,” You try to speak, only becoming conscious of the tears Yoongi’s already aware of when they drip away because of your speech. An obscure mixture of anticipation fights with pessimism about his idea. “I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to say yes.”

“You can if you want.”  Yoongi says, brushing away more of the conflicted tears and catching you against his chest when you huddle back against him. “You don’t have to right now, either though. Just know that if you decide you want to release them, we can.”

“Even if it’ll get you in trouble though, Yoon?” You mumble in a more tamed worry, shifting in belief that maybe you could take a hold of this option that he’s willing extending you.

“Yeah, sweetie. I don’t mind that.” He listens to you groan against his chest, but just rubs your back to soothe any worries. His shoulders startle stiff when you lift your head up once more to look him in the eyes,

“You’re insane. You’re too nice, Yoongi.” Your voice is high like when you tease him or ramble about things you’re surprised about. He just shrugs, head tilting and only offering a smile in return. “You,” Frowning towards him, you wonder shortly why he always has to witness tears escaping your eyes to the point that you can’t even find yourself embarrassed about it. “You make me so happy.”

The shift in your voice to a small whisper leaves Yoongi quiet. Given the context of the conversation the admission is a bit nonsensical, only serving to create flurries in his ribcage. An earlier thought of hoseok’s words replay in his heads about Yoongi being fond of you, and it leaves him a little stunned in reaction to how you appear in his eyes. Yoongi opens his mouth a little to speak but finds no words coming out, silenced further by your curling smile.

“You know that you don’t have to feel like you need to help me, right?” You speak as through searching for doubt, but Yoongi instantly shakes his head. Curtly responding,

“I don’t. I help you because I want to.” More than that, but his mind doesn’t catch a particular word as he watches you rub your eyes from the previous evidence of surprise about his idea. His hands slide from a hug, settling to gently hold onto the sides of your waist, finding himself struck by enamor as you softly laugh.

“I wonder why-”

“I care about you.” Yoongi maintains eye contact as he blurts into your sentence, remaining serene like voice as you drop your hands from your face back to his chest. Looking down you take a moment to consider the intention of his words, unable to ignore the fervent tone despite his low voice. “We’ve gotten really close this year; why wouldn’t I want to help you?”

“Because I act like I need it every other second,” You murmur mostly teasing to which Yoongi rolls his eyes. Not having that thought for even a second. You giggle, reaching your hand to play with his hair and soothe his suddenly sour expression at your joke. “You mean it about wanting to release the songs?”

“Yes.” He nods, humored by the way you stare at him to search for even a hint that he’s unsure.

“You really mean it-”

“Angel,” He sighs, smiling at the singsong voice you ask again with. Squeezing your waist, Yoongi nods his head, “I thought about it a lot before today. I mean it.”

Your lips purse into a line. Knowing full well that Yerin would be angry the second those songs are sent out, you’re still hesitant. Granted the spiteful part of you finds the prospect of irritating her amusing, but not at all at the expense of Yoongi’s reputation within the company or otherwise. But if he’s the one presenting the idea, stating over and over again that he’s okay with it, you’re inclined to acknowledge that he knows what the idea could mean for him. And he’s still willing to do it.

“Okay, then.” Your heart thrums at Yoongi’s eyes widening slightly from your approval, but the quickly expanding smile on his face is hopeful so you succumb to a mirroring it. “Let’s release them.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire​ @tsvkino-usagi​@xionysus​​ @baebyjoonie​ @honeyoongles​

[dr-m-r-ma]

제 2 조: 계약 해지, 헤어질 때 (Article 2: Termination, When We Break Up)

Part 1/2

Genre: drama, romance Rating: PG-13 Group: Monsta X

Summary: Hyejung met Changkyun at a private party hosted by mutual friends. After one drink too many, they accidentally get caught fooling around by Dispatch photographers. What started as a sarcastic joke became a reality, forcing Hyejung to see Changkyun more often than she wanted to.

Disclaimer: This is 100% fictional and my own story. It is unrelated to the actual events and real people of Monsta X and Starship. Hyejung Lee (이혜정) is an original character created for this fanfic. Parts will be written in Korean with English translations. I did not major/study in English/Korean, nor was I ever strong in English/Korean grammar, so there will be grammatical mistakes. This fanfic is written in third person and past-tense for ease of writing.

“그럼, 어떻게 만나셨어요?” (Trnsl: “Then, how did the two of you meet?”)

Hyejung glimpsed to her side, her eyes meeting his, and she grimaced.

A hand snaked over to hers and she stared hard at him. 이야… 완전 가식적인데?? (Trnsl: Wow… he’s so fake??) She saw him wear his business smile -- it almost looked real -- so she pressed her lips thinly and curled them upwards. Hyejung replied, “아는 언니랑 비공개된 파티를 몇번 다녀서 가끔씩 보긴했는데, 너무 유명해서 못 다가갔어요…” (Trnsl: “I went to a couple of private parties with a friend so I saw him a few times, but I couldn’t approach him since he’s so famous…”)

She looked down at her inner arm, checking the small notes she made on her skin. She could feel her face turn red from trying to be sneaky, and this possibly made the reporter think Hyejung was too shy to continue.

“하하하 그러면 누가 먼저 고백했어요?” (Trnsl: “Hahaha then who confessed first?”)

Hyejung stiffened at the question. It was a simple question, but it wasn’t part of the script that they were given by the company. They prepared for almost every type of question a reporter could possibly ask them, but somehow this utterly simple question flew by their radar.

“제가 먼저 했어요.” (Trnsl: “I did first.”)

The reporter gasped, “어머, 아이엠씨가요? 어떤 고백을 했나요?” (Trnsl: “Oh my, I.M. did? What kind of confession was it?”)

With a funny look strewn on Hyejung’s face she looked over at Changkyun squarely. With her eyes, she basically told him, 니가 알아서 말 해. (Trnsl: It’s all on you, bud.) Before he could reflect it back onto her, she turned to face the reporter and smiled.

There a short moment of silence before Changkyun started telling the rehearsed story to the reporter. This was the cue for Hyejung to blush and smile like an innocent girl, and the cue that she could relax. As she started to zone out a little, her mind wandered back to when it all started.

< ONE WEEK AGO >

*Ding-dong*

*Ding-dong ding-dong*

*Rrrrring*

뭐야… 뭐가 이렇게 시끄러워… (Trnsl: What… what’s so loud…) Hyejung opened her eyes slowly, as they tried to adjust against the harsh sunlight leaking through her blinds.

*Bzzzt bzzt*

She frowned and turned her head towards her phone the main source of the noise. Unlocking her phone with one hand, she lazily glanced at the 21 notifications. 21?!?!

*Ding-dong ding-dong*

Sitting up quickly, she whipped her head around to stare at the door. It was not an alarm and her doorbell was indeed ringing. As she swung her legs over the bed and got out, she immediately staggered towards the wall. 술을 마시지말자… (Trnsl: Let’s not drink anymore…) Her splitting headache rang at every step she took towards the door. And only when she reached over to unlock the door did she read the first message on her phone:

주희언니 (Joohee): 야, 너 빨ㄹㅣ 안나와?! 아직도 자고 있어?! (Trnsl: Hey, are you s er iously not going to come out?! Are you still sleeping?!)

As soon as she unhooked the first lock, the door swung open, getting caught on the chain.

“아, 뭐야!!! 놀랐잖아!” (Trnsl: “Ah, what the hell!!! You scared me!”) Hyejung groaned loudly at her visitor. She unlocked the chain as well, and opened the door to Joohee.

The sunlight hitting her eyes behind Joohee blinded her enough, so Hyejung started to slither back into her place. “왜 이렇게 일찍 왔어? 무슨 일 있어?” (Trnsl: “Why’d you come so early? What’s going on?”)

Joohee grabbed Hyejung by the arm and pulled her back in place. The action caused things to swirl in Hyejung’s head, and she squinted at the pain thumping between her eardrums.

Her older friend, on the other hand, seemed completely fine, granted she was the one who took Hyejung out drinking the previous night. In fact, she had a strange look plastered on her face, and Hyejung only registered the unusual paleness of her friend.

“...무슨 일?” (Trnsl: “...What’s up?”)

Joohee sighed, “빨리 옷 갈아입고 나와. 너 벌써 늦었어.” (Trnsl: “Hurry up and change. We have to leave, and you’re already late.”)

“어디가는데? 내가 왜 늦었는데??” (Trnsl: “Where are we going? What am I late for??”) Hyejung tried asking, but Joohee wordlessly pushed Hyejung to the bathroom.

The car ride was silent. Hyejung couldn’t figure out what was going on and why Joohee seemed so serious. She didn’t explain at all what was going on, but she continued to wear the same scary expression since the morning. Without much to do since they weren’t talking, Hyejung decided to look back to her phone and get rid of all the notification signs.

She managed to erase most of the notifications on phone calls and messages since they were mostly from Joohee, with the exception of a couple of missed phone calls from an unknown number. Her head tilted with confusion when she saw a message from an acquaintance she hardly ever talked to. Her fingers tapped it, and all of a sudden, it came crashing back. The headache too, but, well, the memories.

They came in fragments, but she could remember the wandering hands and the giggles shared between close proximity as she stared at the Dispatch photos. 아니...아닐거야. 그래, 그자식이랑 왜? 내가? 말도 안 돼. (Trnsl: It’s not… there’s no way. Yeah, with that guy? Me? Nuh uh.) But Hyejung’s eyes wandered elsewhere. Slamming her hands against the window, she looked up at the large screen showing her face to the entire city of Seoul.

“깨었니? 니가 제일 마지막으로 알다니… 너무 드라마틱한데?” (Trnsl: “You awake? I can’t believe you’re the last person to know… Don’t you think it’s too dramatic?”)

Hyejung swung around and looked at Joohee. With a shaking finger, she pointed at the screen outside. Her voice also shook. “저게… 저게 뭐야?!” (Trnsl: “What… what is that?!”)

More photos of her surfaced the large screen, like that familiar figure hugging her against the balcony, or that unfamiliar look on her face pressed against that familiar neck. The frown deepened as more memories trickled back in.

‘너 진짜 매력없다.’ (Trnsl: ‘You’re really not attractive.’) he said.

She scoffed, ‘근데 왜 나랑 같이 있어?’ (Trnsl: ‘Then why are you with me?’)

She looked back at the screen, and even though the car started again to drive by it, Hyejung saw the glimpse of the profile of the other person with the title underneath. Slouching into her seat, she groaned loudly.

“월드스타 몬스타엑스의 랩퍼 아이엠의 숨겨진 여자?!” (Trnsl: “World Star Monsta X’s Rapper I.M.’s hidden girlfriend?!”)

It was really only a joke. It wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. Hell, if anything, it was supposed to be taken as everything but serious. And yet… there they were.

I.M., or as his manager called him Changkyun, with his manager at his side. Hyejung with Joohee by her side, as a makeshift manager.

It wasn’t like Hyejung was an idol or anyone important, but she pleaded with the company to let Joohee in on whatever they wanted her to do. She was a freelance artist, but never did she ever have the chance to work with someone in the entertainment industry. She knew she didn’t belong in that world, and even when she met Joohee, who worked hard as an assistant scriptwriter, she didn’t think she would step into the world that much.

And yet, here she was.

Hyejung’s eyes landed  on Changkyun, and his smirk irked her to no end. His manager kept going around in circles, while Joohee just huffed and puffed.

She couldn’t take it anymore, so Hyejung interrupted. She scoffed, “그래서. 뭐, 우리 둘이 사귀란 말이에요?” (Trnsl: “So. What, you want us to date or something?”)

“....네. 그러시겠어요?” (Trnsl: “....Yes. Would you?”) The manager clapped his hands, as if a weight was taken off his shoulders and everything would be solved so much faster. Except, Changkyun’s smirk was wiped off as soon as he heard his manager’s response, and Hyejung’s eyes glowed, knowing he was not on the same page anymore. But… she wasn’t exactly happy about how the manager responded either.

“어… 근데 농담 이었는데요?” (Trnsl: “Uhh… it was a joke though?”)

The manager waved her off, and when he noticed Changkyun’s disgust, he sighed. “그냥 1년동안만 연애하는 척! 척만 해. 그러고나서 둘이 스케줄 때문에 헤어졌다고 하면돼. 괜찮죠?” (Trnsl: “Just pretend to be dating for one year! Just pretending. Then afterwards, we’ll just say due to scheduling, you guys broke up. That’s okay, right?”) He looked at Hyejung, and she profusely shook her head.

“뭐 때문에 하자는거죠? 홍보?” (Trnsl: “What is your purpose? Publicity?”) Joohee cut in. Her words were sharp, like a knife cutting through the atmosphere. Hyejung mulled over her words for a second before staring back at the manager, who was now turning a bit red. 진짜로?? (Trnsl: Really??)

Hyejung rolled her eyes, while Joohee started to tell the manager every reason why Hyejung doesn’t need to follow through with it. As the two reps started to argue, she felt a tingle. Her eyes fell on Changkyun, and he had a grim look on his face, but he was staring at her with intent.

‘착각하지마, 좋아서 같이 있는게 아니니까.’ (Trnsl: ‘Don’t misunderstand, I’m not here with you because I like you.’) he chuckled sarcastically.

She saw his teeth twinkle like his piercing, and she couldn’t take his snobbish remarks anymore. Flinging her arm forward, she splashed the remains of her drink in his face.

‘걱정하지마, 넌 내가 제일 싫어하는 타입이니까.’ (Trnsl: ‘Don’t worry, you’re the type I can’t stand.’)

Each memory that resurfaced brought her to a new level of annoyance and frustration. She huffed before standing up. “언니, 가자. 더 말할 필요가 없는것 같은데, 그냥 가자.” (Trnsl: “Joohee, let’s go. I don’t think anything more needs to be said, so let’s just go.”)

As she and Joohee walked towards the door to leave, a new voice spoke out.

“나쁠게 있어? 그냥 하는척이라잖아. 누가 진짜로 사귀래?” (Trnsl: “What’s so bad about it? He said just pretend. Nobody said anything about actually dating, okay?”)

That same deep voice, with the same irritating tone as the night before.

Hyejung’s jaw locked and she tensed up. Slowly turning around, she saw the smirk from the beginning. It riled her up and her blood boiled at the sight. What was so funny?

Changkyun threw his hands out and shrugged. “필요하면 우리 계약이라도 쓸까?” (Trnsl: “If you want, should we write up a contract?”)

“Deal.”

.

.

*** TBC ***

A/N: we’ll see how this goes, with me trying to write 2 stories at the same time (lol) always appreciate the likes, reblogs and messages!! thank you! 

[muffin-n-waffle]

Channy Watches Anime Sometimes And You Should Too: Fall 2018 Edition

I’ve feel like I’ve been trying to make this post for forever, but life has gotten a little busy with Halloween prep and the like. Regardless, this particular season is one of my favorites, and I’m hoping that some of the new anime coming out of this season become some of my favorites as well. With that, let’s get started! I’ll actually be listing these anime from my favorite so far, but as time goes on, my opinion could obviously change. But, without further ado, here we go!

So Many Colors in the Future What a Wonderful World

In Nagasaki, a descendant of mages, 17-year-old Hitomi lost her sense of color at a young age and grew up lacking emotion. Her grandmother Kohaku, a great mage, sends Hitomi to the past, to the year 2018. There, she spends time with a 17-year-old Kohaku and friends from club activities.

Right now is the perfect time of year to watch something that feels a little...magical. So far this show is super pretty, and I really like the concept too. The pace is a bit slow, but it honestly makes the experience feel more relaxing instead of as if it’s dragging, at least in my opinion. Considering this plo has magic and time travel in it, I’ll be looking forward to see where it goes. 

Run with the Wind

Kakeru, a former elite runner at high school, is chased for stealing food. He is saved by a Kansei University student Haiji, who is also a runner. Haiji persuades Kakeru to live in the old apartment "Chikuseisou" where he plans to team up with fellow residents to enter Hakone Ekiden Marathon, one of the most prominent university races in Japan. Kakeru soon finds out that all of the residents except for Haiji and himself are complete novices.

So, after giving sports anime a chance last season, I found that I really enjoyed it. Yeah, it’s likely predictable, and often follows the same formula, but usually the shows are super feel good with just the right amount of painful drama on the side to make your heart hurt. I think, actually I know, this is the reason that I can watch animated sports when I can’t really watch them at all in real life. The stakes here seem to feel higher because I get to know the characters along the way, and I feel as if I really have someone to root for. That being said, this anime is awesome so far. The animation is fluid, and the way it’s directed is just so, so beautiful. 

Zombieland Saga

A typical morning. The usual music. Their normal lives. The peace these seven girls experience will suddenly be destroyed. By the living dead... zombies. A reality that they never wanted a part of, an amazing and terrifying zombie world. They all share one wish: "We want to live." These girls will struggle through this saga, in order to achieve a miracle.

And idol show, but with zombies! Honestly, this show wasn’t even on my radar until I saw a clip of it on youtube, which was from the very beginning of the first episode, and I’m so glad that I decided to pick it up. I feel like this is hilarious commentary on just how terrible life can be for real life idols, but we’ll see how the show ends up playing out. For now I’ve been super happy with it. 

As Miss Beelzebub Likes

Beelzebub is a great demon lord who rules over several millions of demons. Myurin, who decides to serve the demon lord, learns that not only does Beelzebub lack the poise of a great demon, but is also a laid-back girl who likes fluffy things. Thus begins the daily-life comedy revolving around the many villains in the demon world.

Sure, this show might be about hell and demons, but it’s seriously the cutest thing I’ve ever fucking seen. Honestly it’s like a slice of life workplace romantic comedy, and I enjoy the shit out of it every single week. 

Bloom into You

Yuu has always loved shoujo manga and awaits the day she gets a love confession that sends her heart aflutter with bubbles and blushes, and yet when a junior high classmate confesses his feelings to her...she feels nothing. Disappointed and confused, Yuu enters high school still unsure how to respond. That's when Yuu sees the beautiful student council president Nanami turn down a suitor with such maturity that she's inspired to ask her for help. But when the next person to confess to Yuu is Nanami herself. Has her shoujo romance finally begun?

Y’all I relate to the main character, Yuu, here so much that it’s not even funny. This is mostly because (slight spoiler alert) even when she does get a confession from Nanami, she still doesn’t really feel anything. There’s no flash of light, or punch to the gut telling her that yes, this is the one! She even feels jealous that Nanami can have such feelings. I know in the long run she’s going to feel something for Nanami, but so far it’s been amazing seeing a character like this in a romance anime! Regardless, this has been a really cute shoujo so far, and I can’t wait to see where it leads. 

Seishun Buta Yarou wa Bunny Girl Senpai no Yume wo Minai

Puberty syndrome – abnormal experiences rumored on the internet to be caused by sensitivity and instability during adolescence. This year, Sakuta Azusagawa, a second-year student at a high school near Enoshima, meets several girls that are experiencing this "puberty syndrome." For instance, he meets a wild bunny girl in the library. She turns out to be an actress on hiatus, Mai Sakurajima, who is also his senior at the school. For some reason, no one else can see this enchanting girl. How did she become invisible...? As Sakuta searches for answers to help Mai, they spend more time together, and he eventually learns of her hidden feelings...

Weird title and weird plot summary, I know, but so far this one has been fairly intriguing. I know it sounds like it’s going to be a harem anime, but with how the episodes have all gone so far, I don’t think thats going to be the case. I really hope not to be disappointed with this one, but we’ll just have to wait and see. 

Tsurune 

The story follows Minato Narumiya. Minato played Japanese archery in middle school, but after a certain incident, he ran away from the sport. In high school, Minato meets new friends, and together as part of their school's archery club they aim to win the prefectural tournament. 

Another sports anime, and while this one does have a lot of promise due to the fact that it has Kyoto Animation backing it up, there’s something about the pacing that hasn’t quite grabbed me just yet. This one only started a couple of weeks ago though, so there’s still a lot of time for the story to completely take hold of my heart. As a side note, the music in this is really beautiful, and it’s been one of my favorite parts so far. 

Boarding School Juliet 

The story takes place at Grigio Academy Boarding School where students come from two rivaling countries known as the "Black Dogs" and "White Cats." Persia and Inuzaka are leaders of their respective dorms, but they are secretly in love with each other. Now, they must keep their relationship a secret from other dorm mates while trying to avoid trouble.

In the beginning I was afraid this one was going to be far too melodramatic for me, but thankfully this is taking a comedic route instead of a tragic one. However, something with this anime just isn’t clicking with me despite the fact that I really want to like it. Normally romantic comedies are my favorite genre, but I think the comedy here is what’s not hitting the right notes, at least for me personally. I’m going to stick with this one to see where it goes, but I hope to not be too disappointed by it in the long run. 

Anima Yell!

The anime centers on Kohane Hatoya, a young girl who loves to be helpful to others. After she moves from middle school to high school, she becomes fascinated with cheerleading, and she starts a cheerleading club at her high school. Joining Kohane in her cheerleading activities is the experienced Hizume and Kohane's childhood friend Uki.

One last sports anime, though this one is so low on the list mostly because I’m not expecting much from it. Overall it’s a cute anime about cute girls doing cute cheers, and it’s been a nice show to unwind with on my Sunday evenings. 

[stratus-skye07]

Different Is Beautiful | Minho

Requested: For the SHINee scenario request: Minho au where he works not as an idol but somewhere else in entertainment: behind the scenes/model, whatever fits your inspo. He falls for a foreigner who works as a translator. Maybe they meet by happenstance before actually working together where he gets to know her better? She’s attracted to him, but assumes he wouldn’t be since she is a foreigner. And ideally low on the angst. (No references of blushing since some of us darker readers don’t actually flush)

Genre: Fluff / Model AU

Word count: 3.9k

A lot of people are afraid of change but I truly welcome it. I’ve been studying to become a Korean translator. Four years of constant studying to earn my degree along with extra volunteer works to get a better handle on the language. Finally, I’m given the opportunity of a lifetime. I was given a job interview and the next thing I knew I was on a flight to South Korea to start my job.

I don’t start working until next week since I had to have time to settle in to my small apartment. It didn’t take long for me to fall in love with the city, especially my neighborhood. I found time to go out for jogs to relax me, along with listening to some Korean children songs. I like listen to them as a refresher from when I first started learning.

I’m jogging through the park in full concentration with no thoughts of the outside world when something hits my calves causing me to trip and land hard on the concrete floor. I sit up, taking my earphones out, I notice the scrap on the side of my knee along with concrete burns on my palms. Looking around, I find the thing that hit me was a soccer ball.

Suddenly, a man comes running towards me, “Are you okay?” He asks me in English.

I nod, “I’m fine. I’m a bit clumsy anyways so I’m used to falling all over the place.” I respond in Korean.

He raises his baseball hat to reveal more of his face which has me taking a second look to be sure I wasn’t fantasizing him. He’s extremely handsome. “Oh, you speak Korean really well.” He says with raised eyebrows.

I smile, “Thank you, I studied hard to learn so it’s always nice to hear that from a local.”

“I’m sorry for hitting you with the ball. I tend to get really competitive so I just launched it.” I chuckle nearly forgetting that I was sitting on the floor after embarrassingly falling.

“Don’t worry about it. I understand how it is.”

He extends his hand to me, “Here, let me help you up.”

I give him my hands, careful not to touch the friction burns on my palms. Pulling me up, I stand but instantly want to fall back down when the feeling of pain radiates from my ankle. I yelp, nearly falling over but the kind stranger manages to hold me to keep me from falling over.

“Did you hurt your leg?”

I nod, “Yeah, I think I landed on it.”

The man helped me to a bench nearby to sit. To my surprise, he kneels down in front of me and starts examining my leg. Pinching and rotating different sections of my leg until he reaches my ankle.

“Ow,” I clench my jaw to suppress the painful feeling.

He has a pained look on his face as if it also hurt him too. “It looks like your ankle is sprained.”

“Of course, only I could have this kind of luck.” I say laughing through the pain.

The guy laughs setting my leg down, “It should be fine after some rest. It was my fault more than anything.”

I smile at him, “It’s okay. Thank you for your help though- um I don’t think I got your name.”

“It’s Minho.” He says extending his hand.

“I’m Y/N. It was nice meeting you even though I wished for it to be under better circumstances.” I push myself to get up from the bench, “I’d better get going before it starts to swell.”

I manage to get up from the bench but once I take the first step, I nearly fall over from the pain of walking on it. Luckily, Minho was quick enough to catch me before I was able to re-injured myself.

“You’re just gonna end up putting stress on your leg, let me help you get to where you need to go.”

I shake my head, “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Then don’t ask. I’m offering.” Minho ran to his friends to let them know that he was going to be helping me home. When he came back he crouched down in front of me, “Get on.”

“Huh?”

He looks over his shoulder to smirk at me, “I’m not asking.”

I’m hesitant to get on his back with the subconscious feeling that I would be too heavy for him considering I’m not slim like the usual petite Korean girls in Seoul.

To my surprise, he lifts me with ease. I started clutching his shirt a bit tighter since I wasn’t prepared for him to actually carry me up on his back so easily. I also catch a smell of his cologne. Even though he was playing soccer, he still smelled out-of-the-shower fresh.

After awhile of walking, I suggested stopping at a minimarket on the way to give Minho a break from all the walking. He was sure that he was fine but I wanted to give him a breather before we continued on. He set me down in a chair near the store while he went inside.

When he returned, along with water, he had bought some first aid supplies like a pain relieving spray, antiseptic wipes, and a bandage. With all the supplies at hand, he continued to treat the scrapes on my knees then proceeded to take off my shoe and sock to bandage my ankle.

I feel a little burdened by having him do all this. Buying the supplies was fine but treating me was overkill.

I place my hand over his to stop him, “You honestly don’t have to go to such lengths for me. I could’ve done this when I got home.”

He gives me that charming smile before pushing my hand back to my lap, “It’s not a bother at all. I’m the one that caused all this so it would make me feel better if I could fix it anyway possible.”

With that being said, he continues to spray down my ankle then wraps it up almost precisely around so that it’s tight enough to compress the sprain. The look on his face is very hypnotizing since he was concentrating on my ankle the whole time.

I always thought guys like Minho only exist in the korean drama world but here he was doing all the things I’d never thought I would experience in real life.

Once Minho finished taping up the bandage, he sits down across from me as he extends his hand, “Now, give me your hands.”

I look at him in shock. I didn’t think he’d notice the friction burns on my palms but nothing seems to be missed by him.

He tilts his head, “Do you wanna argue about that too?”

Humored, I shake my head and give him my hands, palms up. Once he started focusing on dabbing the wipes, I started to feel nervous, he held onto my hand tightly. His hand was obviously larger than mine and it was basically enveloping mine as he was working on it.

He was in complete concentration that when he spoke again, it caught me off guard. “Have you lived in Korea long?”

I shake my head, “No, I arrived a few days ago.”

Looking up at me, he had a intrigued look on his face. “Only a few days? I’d believe you if you said you were here for a few years. You’re pronunciations are really good.”

I blush at the compliment, “Thanks, I’m actually here for work. I’m a translator, hence the trying hard to keep the pronunciations up.”

He stays quiet again before I boldly ask, “What do you do?”

Minho’s hand pauses for a second then answers, “Let’s just say I’m pretty famous around here.”

“Really?” I look at his face to see the corner of his mouth lifting up slight as if he’s trying to hold in a laugh, “I get it you’re trying to play a joke on the foreigner. That’s fine.”

He finally releases a chuckle before going back to applying the bandaids to the burns, “Well you’re all fixed up.”

I look at the bandaids on my palms and feel thankful that he’d take time out of his day to make sure I was okay. Even though it was his competitiveness that caused all this, most people would just apologize and be on their way. I was beginning to like this guy but I knew someone as sweet as him has to have a girlfriend already. Plus, I’m not as pretty as a majority of the women I’ve seen in Seoul being that my foreigner features are far different from theirs.

After a few minutes of talking comfortably, there were times where people, mostly girls, would stare at Minho. I can understand why considering his looks but it was almost excessive. Minho began to realize the same things since he started to lower his hat whenever a group of young girls would walk by. I began to get the feeling that he was getting uncomfortable with the extra attention.

He clears his throat, “It’s getting late. We should get going. You still need to rest your ankle if you’re gonna start working by next week.”

I agree with him as I take the plastic bag containing the remaining supplies over my shoulder before getting on his back again.

The rest of the walk wasn’t too bad since the neighborhood has less people roaming around. I started feeling disappointed that we were getting closer. Once Minho dropped me off that would be it. I would never see him again. I honestly doubt that anything like this would ever happen to me again.

The moment of truth arrives once we reach my apartment building. Minho put me down in front of the door. He turned to face me as I stare at his handsome features one more time before saying goodbye to him.

“Can you get to your apartment?”

I nod, “Yeah, there’s an elevator so I won’t struggle too much.”

“Take it easy so your ankle heals up well.”

I smile before bowing to him, “Thank you again for helping me out today. I really appreciate it.”

He returns the smile, “It’s no big deal and I’m sorry again for causing it all. Next time I’m playing I’ll be sure to think of you so I don’t hurt anyone else.”

Thinking of me? I like the sound of that.

Without warning, Minho turns around and starts walking down the sidewalk we just came up from.

“Wait, will I ever see you again?” I ask.

He gives me that heart melting smile one last time before saying, “I’m sure if fate allows it, we’ll see eachother again.” He waves at me before walking down the street until he’s completely out of sight.

I can only hope that fate was that good to me.

One Month Later…

From the first day of work until now, a month in, I’m finding it more difficult to start off as a newbie. As a new hire, you get thrown into the boring stuff that no one else really wants to do because it’s a slow topic or just not interesting.

I’m fighting the sleep this morning. A journalist company had an interview with a popular author so I was given the task to translate the writing from Korean to English. The interview is pretty boring considering the book that’s being talked about is not my cup of tea.

As of right now, my journey as a translator has yet to sail off to exciting lengths. In situations like these, I need a grand opportunity to get me up in the more exciting things like translating for corporate companies but for those kinds of chances it could take months.

I take a minute to stretch out my fingers from all the typing I’ve been doing. Playing around with my hands, I find myself looking at my palms.

It’s been a month since my luck encounter with Minho but every once and awhile I end up looking at my palms to remember how his hands felt touching mine. Apparently, fate was cruel to me since I still haven’t seen him again. I even went jogging in that same park for a chance in running into him but he never showed up again. Eventually, I just took my losses and gave up.

“Y/N.” My boss calls for me.

I stand and bow to him, “Yes, sir.”

He approaches me with an exciting look on his face, “It’s your lucky day.”

“Huh? Is it really?” The last time he said that he told me I was going to be translating this boring interview.

He nods, “You’ve heard of SM Entertainment, right?”

“Of course,” I gasp, “Am I going to meet EXO?”

“Nope,” The excitement slowly goes away, feeling like this wasn't going to be as lucky of a day as I thought. “Paris fashion week is starting soon and, of course, they’re going to be sending their top model to the event.”

“Sir, I don’t speak French.”

“I know that but they are requesting an English speaker and you’re the only one available to take the trip over.”

I nods, “I understand.”

He hands me a card, “Here’s all the information. You’re flight has already been scheduled so just be there and meet up with the people of SM. You’ll be translating for their top model so do well.”

No pressure.

“If you do well on this then maybe we can find you some more exciting work to do.”

The excitement starts pumping again as I grin widely, “Really? Thank you, sir. I’ll work hard.”

The nerves were at an all time high but this was the opportunity that I needed to prove myself worthy of better work than what I’ve been getting. I can do this. I know I can.

The time goes by quickly as I wait near the entrance of the airport. I contacted the people of SM, they told me to meet up with them by the door. Around the time they’re scheduled to be here, I notice a crowd of photographers begin to gather outside.

I peak out the side window near the door to see they were taking photos of someone, most likely a celebrity. The crowd begins to clear as the person they were following began to walk towards the entrance of the airport, I’m able to get a good look at them.

My heart begins to race as my jaw drops when I see him again. It’s Minho. I’m sure it’s him even though he’s dressed more fashionable than that day we met. He’s the top model that I have to translate for? I guess it makes sense since he certainly had the looks.

Everything about the day we met begins to make sense, the girls staring at him and his joke about being someone famous. With how much work I’ve been doing, I haven't had time to check out the top celebrities in Korea yet. Had I done that, I would’ve seen Minho’s photos everywhere.

“Excuse me,” I feel a light tap on my shoulder. “Are you Y/N, our translator?” I look at the man whose voice sounds like the one I spoke to on the phone.

I nod, “Yes, I am.”

“Thank you for being on time. I’m Minho’s manager. He’ll join us once he’s finished taking photos with the press.”

I nod again unable to form a proper response since my mind was still thinking about seeing Minho again. The nervousness starts to get to me as he finishes up posing for the cameras outside the airport. He bowed to each one of the photographers as he walks through the sliding doors where we came face to face again.

Once his eyes met mine, he raised his eyebrows with a surprised look on his face followed by a smile. His manager signaled him to come over. As his tall figure came closer, it began to set in that he was really in front of me again.

“Minho, this is Y/N. She’s going to be our translator during the trip.”

He extends his hand which I shakingly took, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He says.

The whole reencounter was nerve wracking but Minho didn’t go into the fact that we had met once before. We didn’t really talk to each other as we went through security check. It wasn’t until we were waiting to board the plane that he came up to me.

Minho sat down in the chair next to me. I pretended to not know he was there since I didn’t really know what to say to him. A month felt like a longer time since I saw him.

“Did your ankle heal up well?” He asks.

Finally turning to look at him, that same feeling I had when I watched him bandage my ankle up came back as I stare at his sincere face.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I was able to work like nothing after resting it.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad that you’re doing well at your new job since you’re the one that’s gonna be helping us out during the trip.”

“Well, I’m honored to be working with you. I kinda feel dumb that I didn’t know who you were when we first met.”

He chuckles, “Don’t be. I was more comfortable with you not knowing that I’m a model. That usually intimidates people, especially women. They tend to feel that they’re not pretty enough to being around a model.”

He’s not lying. Even when I didn’t know who he was, I kept thinking how someone as good looking as him would even bother doing the things he did for me that day.

On the plane, Minho and I were sitting apart from each other. He was with his manager talking about their schedule while I took side glances at him when he wasn’t looking. I thought back on how he said that if fate would allow it we would meet again. I start to wonder if this was actually fate or if it was just coincidence.

Twelve hours later, we were in Paris. There was a crowd of people waiting to see Minho. I wasn’t too surprised since he did his fair share of acting as well as modeling plus how could you ignore a face like his.

Once we were able to take some time to get settled in, it was time to go to work the following day. I stay close by Minho the entire time. It was my job to be near him and pay attention to the people that he was talking to. I didn’t complain though. He certainly knew how to dress to impress. When I first met him, he was in a t-shirt and shorts playing soccer and now he was dressed in an expensive suit looking so professional.

The way he communicated with people was interesting to me. He had this unique aura about him. There were nothing but compliments from him about other people that it felt heartwarming to see. His tone never sounded like he was trying to play nice. He was also sincere about it along with his sweet smile, there was no way anyone could ignore it.

There were also time where we were so close to each other that I could feel his body heat radiate against mine. It also made my mine react numerous times. I had to continue to set myself straight multiple times. I was a foreigner and he was Seoul’s most handsome model. The majority of people he was talking to were women and they were just as beautiful as him. How could I reach that level compared to him?

I was tired from the busy day. I never suspected that fashion shows actually involved so much talking. I always assumed it was about looking at all the clothes and having all the pretty people get together. A majority of the conversation were boring but I somehow managed to pull through and do a good job.

I’m in my hotel room, preparing for tomorrow’s event which will be just about the same as tonights. There’s a knock at the door. Not expecting anyone, I look through the peephole to find Minho standing in front of my door.

I rush over to grab my oversized sweatshirt since I was already in my pajamas which consists of a tank top and shorts which is way too revealing for company.

I open the door enough for me to poke my head out. Minho’s smile greets me.

“Hi, what are you doing here?” I ask.

He raises both his hands to show me a wine bottle in one and two glasses in the other, “I figured you could use a break and you’ve worked hard today.” I chuckle before opening the door to let him in.

I don’t know if it was the wine or because Minho and I had already gotten to know each other before but I was feeling relaxed and at ease. It felt like we’ve been friends so talking about anything was easy. We ended up playing truth or drink. We either told the truth or drank from our glasses.

“Minho, I don’t think I can drink anymore.”

“The bottle’s almost empty. Just a few more rounds.” He places his hand on his chin to lean on his knee as he prepares to ask the next questions, “What was your first impression of me?”

I go back to the day that I met him, “Obviously, I thought you were handsome. Then you started helping me in more way than I thought you would which made me think how thoughtful and caring you must be and that I’m jealous of your girlfriend.”

He laughs, “If I had one you would be.” Honestly, the fact that he was single made me excited to hear. “Your turn.”

A question comes to mind, a question that has been in the back of my mind ever since I met him in the park that day. “Why did you go to such great lengths that day? You could’ve stopped at apologizing but you treated me and took me home. Why?”

Minho leans in looking at me then his eyes began to lower to my lips, “I was mesmerized by you.”

I scoff, “How is that possible? I’m not as pretty as most of the women of Korea.”

He tilts his head, “Do you think being a foreigner makes you any less attractive? Whether you were Korean or not, you made my heart race. Watching you work today just proved that it wasn’t just in the moment for me. My question is, was it the same for you?”

Without hesitating I answer him honestly, “Yes.”

As soon as I tell him my answer, his lips crash over mine. Once the initial shock goes away, his hands reach up to cup my cheeks and pull me closer. I rest my hands over his chest as he pulled me into his lap. Pulling away to catch my breath, I look into Minho’s lust filled eyes wondering if this was really happening.

He shows me his signature sweet smile before speaking through ragged breaths, “You still have a question left.”

Looking at his handsome face, I ask, “Do you wanna stay the night?”

[chaoticneutralwriter]

07; Nice

In which you recall getting dating advice from a genius.

idol!jimin x staff!reader (ft. bff!yoongi)

genre: mostly comedy and fluff oh shit some angst this time??

word count: 2.7k

A/N: I want to be friends with Yoongi :(

“So do you like Jimin?”

 It was a chain reaction: you inhale too sharply in the middle of your sip of soju, the liquid goes down far less smoothly when it’s in the wrong tube, which immediately only causes you to start choking in the most retched way possible because of the burn. You’re doubling over, coughing like someone who’s smoked a pack of cigarette every day of their life since they were born and it must’ve been so bad that the little old lady who was serving you was halfway scurrying over to your table, no doubt ready to call the paramedics. She only stops herself when the man in front you smiles at her reassuringly and waves her off (the bastard).

 When the violent coughing subsides, you’re still breathless, chest heaving and the burn of the alcohol sitting uncomfortably on your throat now. Yoongi slides the cup of water closer to you and then goes back to munching on the side dishes, unperturbed by the fact that you nearly just died in front of him because of him. You glare at Yoongi through teary eyes, but take the drink gratefully, the cool liquid soothing the ache.

 You set the cup down and wipe the tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. You’re taking your sweet time gathering yourself because this jerk deserves to wait for your answer. Eventually though, with a sniffle, a clearing of your throat and in the most calmest voice you can muster, you say, “…. What?”

 “I said do you like Jimin?” Yoongi almost sighs it out, like he’s talking to a two year old and stares at you evenly, expectantly.

 Immediately you’re on the defensive. “What makes you think that?”

 Now he actually does sigh as he leans back in his seat, pouring himself another shot of soju. He’s already feeling the imminent headache and it’s not going to be from the copious amount of alcohol he’ll be consuming in the next thirty minutes. Here’s the first shot…. 

 “Oh I don’t know; half of the time you can’t look him in the eyes when you talk to him and when you do actually talk to him, your conversations are like two sentences long before you run away with a bullshit excuse.”

 “Hey I—“

 “And then the other half, you’re avoiding him as if he’s a disease.”

 “I don’t—“

 “You literally stand on the other side of the room every time he’s around and glance at him from the corner of your eyes like he’s the fucking sun.” 

 You close your mouth, the sentence dying on your tongue as you let his words sink in. He’s right…. You know he’s right because you know you’re in deep when you can’t even look at them straight like they are the goddamn sun. But like hell you’ll give in easily. Not to Min Yoongi who will 100% never let you live it down.

“…. Well one; I still have trouble making eye contact with anyone so it’s not just Jimin.”

 “You seem to be doing okay with me.” 

 “Yeah well… You’re—“ You stop yourself as you see his eyes widen a fraction and his face takes on an expression as if he’s daring you to complete the sentence. You blanch at him and daringly throw in a scoff. “Oh c’mon, I swerved you so hard that one time I visited the music video shooting.” 

 He opens his mouth as if to argue with you, but then as if he recalled the memory, he closes it again and nods to himself in agreement and satisfaction. Your face burns hotter than from just the alcohol in you; Yoongi’s smug ass smile was forever burned into your mind from that day forward. You down a shot to numb the pain. What has your life come to….

 “Okay so you do that to the other members as well but, you do it only when we’re dressed up. You do that to Jimin all the time.”

 “Ew were you like watching me all this time?”

 “You make this face that Jungkook makes as if he’s having an identity crisis whenever Jimin so much as flick his hair.” Yoongi deadpans. “It’s hard to miss."

 You huff because you really don’t know what to say to all these receipts Yoongi is dishing out. Here you are, out trying to have a good time with lamb skewers yet you’re feeling so attacked right now.

 “If I had known you were gonna come for me when you invited me out to eat, I wouldn’t have said yes.” 

 “The kids ditched cuz Hobi was too tired to come and you said yes cuz I said I was gonna pay.” 

 “Right. But still...” You trail off as you pour yourself another shot. You had half a sober mind to question yourself whether the alcohol would help you at this moment (unfortunately you tend to become a chatty Cathy once the alcohol hits) but then there’s the other half of you that's saying, fuck I’m way too sober to be dealing with this shit. 

 Subsequently, you down the shot in one go. “Why are you even asking me this? Like, where did it even come from?”

 Yoongi just gives you a pointed look, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world as he drags the bottle to his side and refills his own shot glass. “Honestly I think everyone is getting pretty sick of how obvious you both are.” He knocks it back in one go and scrunches his nose as if it didn’t go down as smoothly as it should’ve. “It’s like watching a never-ending music video to an OST with no plot; just wistful staring.”

 You glare, taking a little offence to that. Nobody wants to be a cliche K-Drama because not only are they stupidly unrealistic, they’re also cringey as hell. But more importantly— 

 “You talk as if Jimin actually likes me back.” You say before biting off a piece of meat.

 “Because he does?”

 “Have you seen me?”

 Yoongi actually had the nerve to wheeze out a laugh. It probably doesn’t help that you’re stuffing your face as if you haven’t eaten in years, dressed down looking like you’re back in your senior years of college, living off of instant noodles and no sleep (but hey if the media sees the two of you, at least they’ll definitely write it off as BTS’s Suga being so generous as to share a meal with the homeless). All in all, they’re good lamb skewers okay? And you’re getting your money’s worth because with how Yoongi’s exposing you, he definitely needs to owe you

He sobers quickly as he makes to grab for another skewer. “C’mon Y/N, you can give yourself more credit than that.”

 “And I’m being serious when I said, ‘Have you seen me?’ The only description I fit for his ideal type is being small and having long hair.”

 “Ideal types are just ideal types. They don’t mean anything once you’ve actually set eyes on the real thing.”

 Your eyes narrow slightly at Yoongi, feeling really skeptical and suspicious. “I might just be tipsy but you’re starting to really sound like you’re actually encouraging me to pursue this….” You gesture with yours hands in a vague motion, “Endeavour.” A beat passes before you widen your eyes and you gasp, tone accusatory, “Unless you’re drunk.”

 Yoongi snorts in response as he downs another shot. “Unlike you, I actually have a tolerance. But,” Your glare is brushed off easily again as he makes to grab for pickled radishes. “As his hyung, I think it’s nice that he finally found someone he likes.” He shoots you a glance and sees you looking really unconvinced which causes his eyebrows to shoot up to his hairline. “Unless…. you’re not happy that he likes you back?”

 You snap at attention and start to fret, almost yelling as you wave your hands frantically. “NO! No, no no! When did I say that?! I didn’t say that!”

“Okay okay! Stop yelling! So that means you like him too.”

 “W-Well…” Your face automatically heats up at the thought.

 “So you don't like him then?"

 “I-I mean—! I just—“

 “Just what Y/N?”

 The subtle sharpness in Yoongi’s tone takes you off guard and immediately shuts you up. The change was so sudden that it outright nearly drains all the alcohol out of your system, sobering you up on the spot (that’s how serious it was). You clearly see that he’s no longer treating this conversation as if it’s something to laugh and tease you with, he wants a straight and honest answer and it wasn’t for his sake. You run a hand through your hair, feeling the intensity of his gaze that makes you self-consciously lower your gaze to your plate of food.

 “I just….” You pause and then sigh, utterly defeated as your hands wander to fiddle with the discarded skewers in front of you. “Well for one, the idea of him liking me is…. crazy.” You chuckle a bit but find that Yoongi is opting to let you finish your thoughts before he offers his two cents. “And….I feel like even if something could happen and as much as I want it to, I feel like it shouldn’t.”

 The tense, serious air around him dies down a bit as he furrows his eyebrows, casting you a very confused look. “Shouldn’t? Why?”

 Now it was your turn to throw him a look as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Um, I’m not sure if you realize that you’re kinda famous? Like high-profile celebrity…? International Hallyu K-Pop idol… ?”

 He shrugs as if that means nothing to him and it causes you to exasperatedly exhale. His nonchalant air seems to have made something snap in you because before you knew it, your feelings were escaping through your mouth.

 “Yoongi, seriously… You and I both know that dating and k-pop idol don’t go together okay? In a perfect world where everyone doesn’t give a damn if idols date and it doesn’t completely ruin their lively hood, then yes, I would’ve taken up on your offer.” You pause, feeling your heart hammering against your chest with overwhelming emotions. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe you were starting to feel cornered by Yoongi but either way, if he wants an answer from you, he’ll sure as hell get one. 

 “But it’s not and it sucks because you’re human too. You don’t know how many times I really wish I can just march up to him and kiss him senseless, tell him what a wonderful, beautiful person he is inside and out without caring what the world thinks, what the company thinks, what the fans thinks….” You lose a bit of steam because suddenly you’re so tired and at the end of your albeit hopeless romantic rant, reality is waiting for you and it instantly makes you grow more somber.

 “But I can’t be that selfish…. Not when there’s so many eyes on you guys. There’s just…. too much at risk.” You trail off, only to inhale and exhale deeply and in a soft voice, you spill out the truth that you’ve kept buried deep inside.

 “I don’t want to put him through a love that will only hurt him."

 The man across from you doesn’t say anything, quietly taking in your words and leaves you to mull over your own thoughts.

Well, shit just got deep…. You didn’t think neither Yoongi or you had meant to take things in that direction, but now here you both are, having a 3AM heart-to-heart about Jimin, over lamb skewers and soju. You get it though; Yoongi’s prodding at you because he cares about his members. He wants to know the extent of your feelings for Jimin, if only to protect him from the worst. Honestly, you would’t even be surprised if Yoongi were to tell you that you’re absolutely right and that it would be best if—

 “I think you’re afraid of love.”

 You double take. “…. What?”

 Yoongi nods as if affirming what he just said. “You’re afraid of love.”

 “Yah Min Yoongi did you not hear a word I said?!” Your voice raises and your body follows off your seat without restraint but you’re too far gone by the sheer audacity of his conclusive statement to really care. Before you can cuss him out, he springs from his seat just to push you back down to yours. 

 “I heard what you said, but think about it; you’re always running away from your feelings, physically and metaphorically.” Yoongi pauses as if something else came up in his mind, “Actually, now that I think about it, you run away from anything that you’re remotely uncertain about.”

 You’re so dazed that you almost completely miss what Yoongi is saying. Even so, you’re at a loss for words. He doesn’t seem fazed by your speechlessness however; in fact, he takes the time to pour himself another shot, drinking it in one go and lets out a loud exhale of satisfaction from the back of his throat. He’s about to pour himself another one but you grab the bottle from him almost angrily and slam it down on the table a little too forcefully.

 “Min Yoongi I’m about one second away from stabbing you with a lamb skewer because I for one do not run from my uncertainties.“

 “Oh please, you and I had to practically be trapped in the same space to develop the meaningful relationship we have right now.”

 And you’re deeply starting to regret it.

 “What does that even have to do with what I just said! I can’t—“

 “What about Jimin? Ever thought about what he wants?”

 “That’s— “ You huff, really hating the fact that Yoongi was so calm and collected throughout this entire conversation and here you are getting so heated and tense. Probably because there’s a little voice in the back of your mind telling you that he’s right. Because as much as you think pursuing anything more would lead nowhere, that doesn’t give you any right to assume Jimin would think the same (though you really think he would 100%). No matter how you look at it, you would be forcing your thoughts and opinions onto Jimin even if you didn’t mean to. You would have to hear it from his own mouth to really confirm anything.

 Yoongi seems to have read your thoughts because he wordlessly fills your glass with the remaining amount of soju left.

 “Jimin’s more mature than most people give him credit for. So I’m just saying, before you make any sort of conclusion on your own,” Yoongi says as he slides the glass over and you eye it listlessly. “It wouldn’t hurt to get his input.”

 Slowly, you take a hold of the shot glass but still make no move to drink it. Your eyes drift up to Yoongi’s face to meet his gaze. His expression is soft and you feel your initial annoyance dissipate. He means well, you know that. He only wants to look out for Jimin and in a sense, you as well. It makes you look away in shame; now you feel like a total asshole.

"Hey,” Yoongi calls out softly and you glance back to him again. He raises his glass, though empty, and tips it towards your direction slightly. “Sorry if it seems like I was coming for you but you two should really stop dancing around each other. I trust you’ll both make a good choice, and with whatever you decide to go with, I’ll support you both.”

 His words touched you, to say the least, and you let out a defeated sigh from it. Lifting your glass up, you gently clink it against his, letting a small smile take over your lips. “Thanks Yoongi.”

 He returns your smile and watches as you down the last shot of the night. Even though he did say he would support you and Jimin in whatever decision you’ll make, a part of him really hopes that whatever it is that you have going on, it would bloom into something…. nice.

Yoongi frowns.

I must be drunk, he thinks.

Because that was really lame.

A/N: It’s mochi day🌸🐤🌸 (and I’m a horrible writer because I did not write a Jimin related birthday drabble)

[nmshostclub]

Height (in cm) 5'3 Zodiac/Star Sign (ex: Leo, Virgo, Taurus, etc.) Libra Physical Description (what you look like) violet shoulder length wavy hair, green eyes, glasses, full figured. Personality Description (how you behave around others and yourself) mild tsundere, funny, ppl pleaser Hobbies (at least 1-2) writing, cooking, rpg games How you like to give love; how you like to receive love, compliments, hugs, sneaky kisses Usual date/outing clothing figure sundresses, skirts, tank tops

   Ai ships you with … Suzuki-senpai!

~

-A lucky item:

    A potted plant. A gift from one of Suzuki’s trips, it’s a special herd that has the ‘power’ to heal anything and anyone if made properly. You’re known to want the best for people so what would be better than something that can help those around you?

    Plus, the plant would fill the room with a sweet scent. Calming you down when the day seems tough to deal with. The small plant always manages to bring a smile to your face. To this simple color, scent, and even the mornings you wake up to water it.

-First encounter:

     Suzuki first met you by accident, simply put. During his escapade, he either ends up at his desired location or a room he’s not even sure existed before. As long as he gets to escape his crazy horde of fans. Ones that were clever enough to get through Ikemen Academy’s gates (Luckily, I hear that they’re working on getting tighter security).

     His escape leads him to the cafe, where you’re trying to fix up some new menu items to serve. When you see him, however, you think first that he’s some creepy thief and whack him out of the café before he did anything.

-

-

-

Alright, not a good start, really. However, your little … . scene made Suzuki curious about you. Maybe he’ll have to keep a close eye on you for now…  Keeping a mental note to not bother the cafe girl when she is doing her daily coffee menu change. One where she debates which one is better for her lovely customers. 

-Interactions:

    So the whole cafe thing wasn’t the best way to start this relationship off, but hey, that was just the first encounter.

    Luckily, this first impression changed over time. Spotting you in the hallways, Suzuki would try to talk to you. He couldn’t help but go over what he should say, later coming to the conclusion of apologizing (for coming in the cafe after hours).

    Somehow, he would get pulled into something important. His friends would rush him to class right before he could call your name.

    Jae-senpai, at times, calling him up for dance practice when he finally got you alone.  

    Suzuki, being unable to say no to Sunbae, he sadly ends it with, “I-I’m sorry, talk to you later. Promise.”

    In class, the idol would dolefully sing the melody of “Maxine”. One of the many ways that helped drain out his sorrow from his system.  Tapping his pen on his desk to the song after an incident much like that one. That kind of incidents would happen a lot, but time, he got to talk to you for the first time. Which brought an interest in you.

                ‘Why did the idol have to speak to you’.  

    The next time an interaction came up, it was your turn to do the talking. Offering a cup of coffee in the cafe. One on one, giving you a chance to even say sorry for kicking him out that one time.

    Of course, Suzuki takes you up on that (It’s like luck had finally decided to answer his calls and get on his side). He doesn’t spend one-second doubting, nodding his head like a little child. If the media got a photo of how he looked at that moment, people would definitely go on how it’s rather cute for the pop idol to gush and smile the way he did. You, on the other hand, made sure you aren’t fazed by this (despite your need to say how cute he looks, like a puppy of sorts).

  From then on, you started seeing Suzuki more and more in the cafe - his usual visits ranging from nearing closing time or after closing time (you still welcome him despite it, offering him a cup of coffee and a good talk about various things).

     You’d put up a rhythm game for the both of you to play sometimes since Suzuki finds those kinds of games rather fun. Plus, being able to beat him in those rhythm games kind of feels good (but, you always try to make up for it with a free cup of his favorite coffee blend or just a slice of cake).

-Confession:

    It happened in the Music Room, Suzuki was practicing a new song. Well, trying to write one.

    He was in a slump while thinking up a song concerning the strange love life teenagers seem to have.  It was going to be featured in a new show, “Even More To Say”, which he’ll be actively participating in. Bring him to his current problem: the deadline for the song is coming closer and closer.

     If Suzuki doesn’t improve his game, the producers would be forced to either look for another talented individual to replace him or push the show’s debut to a later day (it could be both, as far as Suzuki knew).

    You just happened to be walking by. Coming back from an order from the  Drama Club, that’s when you heard the soft tune of piano keys and an angelic voice.

You knew right away it was Suzuki.

  Thing is, you keep hearing keys going off the tune and the slight pitch changes that ruin the song altogether. The shake of your head couldn’t be helped. Hearing a rip from a notebook page with a groan of frustration.

    You manage to trace the song around the corner. One that read, “Music Room”. You then find yourself pushing it wide open.

    You happened to be there at the right moment; Suzuki sighing by the piano, rubbing his hands together is the first sight that greeted you. You also managed to catch him finally getting the idea of the perfect song.

  This time squeezing every drop of emotions in his words (as if he was in therapy or something). Repeating a simple, yet sweet, melody.

“A chemical in my brain can cause the world to go insane~

Everything doesn’t make much sense like it used to do

We can’t go off jump from swings or hang from trees like before~

However, your notes still make my small heart jump

Making everything alright, making everything click back in place ~

 The way it should always be

Just don’t leave, make me see gloom again~

I’m addicted to the way you look at me

Even if those kisses aren’t meant for me~”

    He continues to share the melody with the piano as he sings. Telling himself that was great in the end when the song comes to a stop.  The same moment when he heard clapping in the background.  The idol jumps, feeling a bit lightheaded when he sees you by the entrance of the room.  

    The thought of you, and just you hearing his latest project made him blush from his cheeks all the way up his ears.

  You rushed over to Suzuki, telling him how that was just amazing. He thanks you for your kind words. Facing the piano again. Trying to hide his blush. You then ask how he was able to write those lyrics.

    He then turned to you with a soft smile and says:

      “They say that the people around you help you see the world for what it is… and that’s what I feel and see whenever I’m with y-you.”

-First date/type of dates frequented:  

    You aren’t quite sure what kind of relationship you two have.

 The thing is, you’re afraid of what will happen if people know you and a famous idol are hitting it off with one another. You kept it ‘questionable’ at best and tried to limit your time with Suzuki with the addition of putting in excuses of having assignments to do or having errands to go take care of.

    Soon enough, people caught on.

    Of course, you denied having a relationship with Suzuki and his feelings for you whenever people ask (apparently news spread faster than wildfire does). That’s what you’ve been doing left and right since Suzuki confessed.

    However, Suzuki doesn’t give up that easily. He’s good at pleasing others. He can’t fail to please you now.

 Dates, mostly are something small. You would hang out in the cafe or he would visit you when he can. Having a cup of tea or coffee together. Watching movies or TV shows together.  Suzuki can have a packed schedule with all his concerts and photo shoots, but that doesn’t stop him from sending you daily or hourly/maybe even between every 30 minutes, compliments.  

    Sends silly snapchats when he is away or right next to you. It’s just one of the cute things he does. He would even ‘help’ in the kitchen and show you what he learned during his travels.  

 However, just because he ‘learned’ how to make it by watching his chefs do it, doesn’t mean that he can do it without burning something. You’re a bit cautious when it came to the kitchen.

    Scared if he even makes a PB and J sandwich without you in the room with him.  

That’s just when you simply together, Suzuki would go out of his way to surprise you with trips to a nearby quiet town. Where he knows it will be a smaller chance of getting recognized.  Shopping for fruits at farmer’s markets as he picks a flower for his flower while you do your shopping.

        FIRST KISS

     You always gave each other kisses, but your first mouth to mouth kiss was after what felt to be Suzuki’s longest trip ever. He was struck in a location where his phone couldn’t give a signal text. He couldn’t even get his hands on a landline to call you. As days went by you missed the ding that your phone would play when Suzuki sent you a picture and text. You noticed that you missed seeing little notifications whenever you checked your phone. Those constant texts and snaps weren’t a bug anymore, but something that made you smile. Looking forward to every day.  

    Time passed, slowly but it did move. You were cleaning up the café before you went home, then you heard the ding of the doorbell.

     Your first reaction was to said ‘We’re closed’, but instead you dropped the mop you were holding. There stood Suzuki. Going on how he missed you. You then run into his arms as you think to yourself how much you missed his hugs. That’s when you pressed your lips against his. Shutting him up for a moment.  Ending it when you release from the hug and punch his arm. Telling him that’s for not telling you when he was going to be back. Suzuki, on the other hand, was still blushing madly, even as you grilled him about how long he left you without a word.

-Long-term relationship:  

    Suzuki sang and wrote many love songs, but he’s new to the innocent high school relationship. He dated other idols but their relationships would go downhill for many reasons. One reason would be the cameras, the same ones that would follow you from the morning to midnight and after.

    The feeling of always being watched and gossiped about in magazines if you even held hands, isn’t the best feeling when you’re a teenager. So you continued dating in private little by little until the both of you managed to be confident enough to let people know about it and date in more public places. Rumors kept coming and going, and the fact Suzuki’s old partners went on and on about their time with him annoyed you.

    Suzuki, of course, assures you that there’s no one for him beside you. Just so you don’t have to feel jealous or angry anymore. Suzuki cancels his schedule for that time just to show you how much he cares for you.

      With all the romance stuff he pulls, you forget how he could be a ball of fluff. Teasing you when you would insist on cooking for him. Making you pout as steam would come from your ears. Telling him it’s not in the way he thinks. He’s just lucky enough to get the first taste of your new recipe.

    Nevertheless, you two have great chemistry together, minus the fact you could push him away at times.  It can cause some fights once in awhile but you two can easily overcome them.

    Whenever Suzuki does get some real time on his hands - a long break from both school and work - he’s basically all over you. Putting his arms around your waist and shower you with enough love to make up for his absence. You retaliate by squishing the life out of him and giving small kisses that put the supposed love of his fans to shame.

[onlyjihoons]

dream knight; l.j.n

a/n omg guys,, it has been so so long since i have written something, and im so sorry omg,, my school term is getting more hectic than it was before, and also i would like to sincerely apologise to  akutagawahakuryuunosuke im so sorry for taking so long to complete your request bb im almost done and i hope its not too shitty asnsosfo

and also this is a spinoff from @cremethorns Hydrochloric Acid,(i hope you don’t mind!) except it doesnt involve spillage of liquid on jeno and a shirtless jeno bc pg13, also highly based on true events that might have costed my innocence, i couldve caused an acid spill on my classmate lol.

disclaimer: this fic has nothing to do with royalty. or knights.

genre: in the context of The Inheritors,, fluff

synopsis: your crush had to see you at your worst, fainting in home econs, and spraining your ankle at dance, and you thought it was only one sided, and only jeno’s duty as a student councilor to bring you to the infirmary, it all changed when you nearly spilled acid on your crush’s oh-so-perfect face.

Lee Jeno. Student Councilor. Member of the school’s dance team. Visual. Most sought after chaebol, also heir to one of Korea’s biggest broadcasting companies. He had connections and friends, lots of them, from idols to even influential friends abroad, he has everything.

And you? Heir to your mom’s clothing brand, you had your fair share of inheritance to your name to be honest. But you were low-profile, only making friends with the people you trust. Everyone in your school was either filthy rich or a heir to some company or both. And most of the people had connections, not friends. Even the poorest student in your school lived in a swanky condominuim complex. You were pretty decent looking if you were compared to those of neighbourhood schools, but if you compared yourself to your classmates, you would be one of the less-better-looking ones. Make-up was part of it, plastic surgery is another.

Your crush and yourself were sort of polar opposites. Jeno was friendly and kind-hearted, making girls stop by his classroom just to marvel at his annoyingly good looks, one of the minority that hasn’t gone under the knife and yet this beautiful. He was also a talented human being, he can dance, sing and rap, and on top of that good grades and an mouth-watering amount of inheritance when he graduates from college. You had decent grades, looks and money, but your eyes shot glares at strangers, and the queen of comebacks. Last but not least, the formidable ‘ice queen’. You cursed at your genes for making your resting bitch face really bitchy, you got it from your mom. But under that ‘ice queen’ title was a really really really kind-hearted Y/N, which people failed to believe as they only made connections. You haven’t gone under the knife yet, as your mother chose to believe in au naturael. You didn’t want to either, not like you had to use your face in any kind of situation. You weren’t a model anyway.

Ever since you set foot into the school, you were classmates and tablemates for homeroom with Jeno, not like you were complaining. You easily made friends with Jeno, as he found you really nice to hang around with and one of the few not making connections. Exchanging smiles whenever you passed by each other, a simple, platonic friendship. At least that’s what you thought, at the beginning of high school.

Slowly, your teenage hormones got the better of you and you found yourself constantly looking at Jeno. Your heart started beating at the thought of the boy, and you were practically his partner for every single practical lesson for every subject in school. “Stars align and zodiacs match”, smirked Chenle, your cousin and closest friend in school. 

There was once you and Jeno were paired up for home econs, you thought you would make a good team, as you guys were already comfortable with each other. The school’s kitchen was incredibly humid and hot, while stir-frying the pasta, you passed out due to heat exhaustion. The humidity and the added heat from the gas stove was overbearing for your weak body. Being your partner and a member of the Student Council, (you were too, the both of you are the only student councils in your class) he kindly carried your limp body on his back, and constantly worrying about you. It was super sweet of him to even stay in the infirmary with you until you regained consciousness, recalling his big, brown worried orbs staring into your own. Black locks disarray and sweaty, and then flashing a relieved smile which melted you once again.

4 months later and your crush on him only deepened, you hit yourself mentally for choosing the same co-curricular activity as Jeno. He shot you a big grin when he saw you warming up on the first day of dance, offering to help you stretch, which you politely declined because you didn’t was to scare him off with your flexibility. But alas, the instructor decided to have some weird ‘flexibility evaluation’ which you vowed not to fail, due to your pride and reputation of a ballerina of 11 years. Contrary to your expectations, Jeno only eyed you with adoration? respect? shock? You didn’t want to get your hopes high.

Your instructor was impressed, placing you in the ‘top’ team. Your team bravely chose Gfriend’s Fingertip, also a choreography you had wanted to learn in the longest time. Jeno was in the ‘top’ team for the boys too, they chose BTS’ Not Today. You bit your lip, your teammates voted you to be the centre, SinB. You were flattered, they thought so highly of your dance skills, but you were also pressured to grasp the choreography fast and right, so that you could look the best and also help your teammates too.

While learning the dance break, your legs moved faster that your body could react, the inertia sending you to the laminated wooden floor, producing a small thump on your ankle. You groaned as the excruciating pain shot your ankle like a bullet, srunching your nose. Your teammates rushed to your side, worried as the team’s ace got hurt. Jeno’s team heard the commotion, and rushed to surround you as well. Jeno pushed through them, picking you up bridal style, causing ooh-ahhs, swoons(from the top teams) and glares(mostly from the girls) from the other teams. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid to fall again. Your instructor was puzzled when Jeno approached her with you in his arms, but she then hurriedly waved the both of you off lest your sprain got worse.

“Put me down, Jeno, I can walk,” You tried to wriggle out of his arms, but to no avail as Jeno suddenly ‘dropped’ you, producing a surprised yelp from you and curious gazes from students.

“Your sprain will worsen, princess,” Jeno whispered almost flirtatiously, sending shivers down your spine, “and I’m not Do Bong Soon, you’re not that light either.”

You scoffed, “I’m underweight, Jeno, how could you--” You gasped as Jeno’s faced inched slowly towards yours.

“I’ll kiss this pretty face of yours if you can’t stop talking till we get to the infirmary.” Jeno’s eyes darkened, causing you to gulp.

As much as you wanted his lips on yours, you shook your head profusely, Jeno’s eyes immediately crinkled into crescents, lightheartedly walking towards the infirmary.

In the end, stupid Jeno stayed to help ice your sprain, luckily not serious. The both of you missed dance, but none of you cared, you two were two busy giving each other playful banter to keep track of time.

“Your grades are gonna drop at this rate you are daydreaming in class because of Jeno,” Chenle snapped his fingers, startling you from your daydream.

You rolled your eyes, “Who was the one that got 16/20 for her math test and who was the one that got 12/20 for his math test?”

Chenle raised his hands in defeat, “Serves me right for not studying,”

“Neither did I,” You batted your eyelashes innocently as Chenle glared at you.

The school bell rang, signalling break time.

You and Chenle actually made the effort to pop by the snack shop to get some snacks together, usually it was decided through Rock Paper Scissors to who was the unlucky one to pay for the snacks and make the unwanted trip down. Neither of you actually bothered this time, as Logarithms sucked up all of the brain juice you had replenished during recess.

“Did you hear?” Chenle sipped on his banana milk, “We are getting our permanent lab partners for Chemistry today.”

“Mhmm,” You hummed as you munched on a churro snack, “I’ll probably get Jeno again, what’s new.”

“You see, Y/N, that’s the problem with you!” Chenle snapped suddenly, shocking you.

“P...problem?”

Chenle pinched the bridge of his nose, and hissed, “The reason why you’re always complaining that you can’t get Jeno to be your boyfriend, lies in the actions you do yourself, Y/N. At this rate, your crush on Jeno will be brought to your deathbed, the whole world knowing except him.”

You frowned, “So what is your point here, Chenle, do you want me to splash hydrochloric acid on him so i can see him shirtless? Hmm? Then after that expecting him to sweep me off my feet and plant a kiss on my lips? Like the ones in dramas and fanfictions?”

“Just... confess to him.” Chenle resumed sipping on the artificially flavoured drink, “I mean like, you have been liking him since forever, and besides, he has so many girls going after him. This is your golden chance, couz. And I highly doubt that your feelings for him are one-sided.”

You blinked your eyes, slowly absorbing Chenle’s words. You sighed, Chenle was right, even though you aren’t sure about the one-sided part. 

“Y/N and Jeno. Alright class, please take your seats beside your partner at the designated tables and wait for further instructions.” Your teacher waved the class off, and girls bursting into whiny sobs as they failed to get Jeno as their lab partner, again. It was a simple acid-base titration with hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide today, your teacher demonstrated the previous lesson and she wanted to let the class “have a go at it” as she believed in the whole “practical sessions helps with understanding” thing. It did help, in a way, but it was an opportunity for you to stare at Jeno up close, other than homeroom lesson. 

You hid your face in your hands as you saw Jeno approaching your seat with his signature eyesmile, you knew you were a stumbling mess in front of his smile, and your plans of confessing to Jeno would go down the drain.

“Y/N-ie~”Jeno sang as he settled down beside you, “We’re lab partners again.”

Don’t look at him, Don’t ever look at him, you chanted a silent mantra to yourself as you closed your eye in case you spilled your feelings too quickly.

“Y/N?” Jeno called out to you worriedly, “Are you alright? You look very out of it today.”

“It’s just the Logarithms that make me feel very blank in general,” You excused clumsily, “I’m just really tired.”

“Do you want me to be in charge of the burette or...”

“Actually, Jeno, I have something to tell you, and--”

“Alright class, please start now.” Your teacher instructed as students began to measure the amount of acid needed.

“Using a pipette, transfer 20.0cm3 of sodium hydroxide into a cornical flask. Add 2-3 drops of methyl orange into the sodium hydroxide. Describe the colour of the methyl orange.” Jeno read, “Do you want me to do it?”

You nodded slightly, recalling your phobia of handling equipment. It was in middle school, where you kindly helped the teacher to wash the petri dish, but your hands turned butter and the petri dish shattered, startling you. It was a measly petri dish, but it was kind of a big deal to the then you, and from then on you were very cautious around the cleaning of equipment.

“Y/N?” Jeno’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “Its your turn to add the methyl orange.”

You unscrewed the cap carefully, then cautiously dripping exactly 3 drops of the indicator. So far so good.

“Sodium hydroxide is an alkali,” Jeno noted as he wrote the answer down in the instruction sheet, “Do you want to pour the hydrochloric acid?”

You complied, feeling bad that Jeno had to see this vulnerable side of you today. You poured 30.0cm3 of hydrochloric acid into the beaker, then placing a funnel at the top of the burette. Unfortunately, the burette was taller than your height of 5″2, and you needed to stand on the footrest of your stool to reach to that height.

You carefully poured the acid into the burette, heaving a sigh of relief as you emptied the beaker. Your ‘good’ day shattered when you lost your balance upon descending, and you expected to hit the hard concrete floor of the science lab.

But you didn’t. You were in fact supported by a pair of strong arms, and those arms belonged to none other than your crush, Jeno. His eyes bore a worried look as you hoisted you upright and rubbed your back soothingly.

“You must’ve been really tired Y/N,” Jeno sighed. “I think we should get back to class once we complete this.”

“O-okay.”

“So what is it that you wanted to tell me at the science lab?” Jeno rested his chin on his hands, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“I-I...” You wrung your hands nervously, Jeno nodded for you to continue, “I like you, Jeno-ah.”

Jeno’s eyes widened, but his face was unreadable, “Since when did you begin to like me?”

“I don’t know... since we cooked pasta i guess?” You smiled sheepishly, then slumped in your seat, “Its okay if you can’t reciprocate my feelings, Jeno. I’m fine with it.”

“But I’m not fine with it,” Jeno’s expression darkened, a side you have rarely seen.

“Wh-why?”

“Because I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You blinked your eyes, and also attempting to dig whatever earwax you had out of your ears. Did you hear him right, Lee Jeno wanted to be your boyfriend.

Jeno’s face inched closer to yours, then softly placing his hand on your cheek, “May I...?”

You nodded slightly, and without hesitation, Jeno leaned in and placed his soft lips on yours, an immense feeling of euphoria erupting in your chest. Your hands magically found its way to Jeno’s black locks, pulling him slightly closer to slightly deepen the kiss.

Seconds later, you pulled away, a faint red dusting your cheeks, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Its alright, like it was my first kiss so...” Jeno looked away shyly.

“It was mine too.” You confessed, immediately regretting your words as Jeno smirked, “Can I be your last too?”

“Maybe,” You shrugged.

Jeno brought you into his chest, red dusting your cheeks again, “What about now?”

“...Okay.”

Well, no one said that your dream knight has to be in shiny armour, he could be in school uniform too.

[dimensiontripperhibiki]

A Name In The Wind (1/?)

Hey guys, so here’s a new multi-chapter fic from me based loosely around the movie Kimi No Na Wa. Honoka and Chika find themselves linked in an unusual way and build up a connection over time, helping (and hindering) each other in the process. I hope you guys enjoy this! Likely ships: ChikaHono, HonoMaki (ChikaMaki), HonoUmi, ChikaRiko (HonoRiko), NozoEli.  Honoka groaned as she woke to the insistent beeping of her alarm clock. “Too early…” She mumbled, pulling her pillow over her head. Vaguely she noticed that it smelled different than usual but she didn’t pay much attention to it. She was more focused on the insistent beeping. She could feel herself being dragged further into consciousness with every passing beep. “Five more minutes.” She mumbled, rolling over. She threw her arm over the edge of the bed like she always did, expecting her hand to hit the snooze button. It didn’t. It hit the floor instead and she jerked into a sitting position. “HUH?!” Even in her dazed state she recognized that she wasn’t in her own bed. Or in any bed. She was lying in an unfamiliar futon, in a very unfamiliar room. “What…” She felt different too somehow. She looked down at herself, trying to figure out what was wrong. “E-Eh?!” She lifted her hands to her chest. Her breasts certainly weren’t that big when she went to sleep. She shook her head, her stomach sinking when she felt a strange absence. Her hand went to her hair and she ran her fingers through it, finding it only came to shoulder length. “EEEEHHH?!”

The door across the room flew open suddenly and she looked up in time to see an older girl with a furious look on her face standing there. “Huh…?” She didn’t have time to question who the girl was before the girl in question rushed toward her, tackling her back onto the futon. 

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO CAUSE A RACKET?!” Honoka yelped as she found herself pushed back onto the futon, an arm pressed across her chest to hold her there. “Chika-chan got Mito-san angry…” Another girl’s voice sounded. The arrival of someone new only scared Honoka more but thankfully the girl trying to rough house with her seemed to calm down. “Get ready for school.” She scowled, pushing herself to her feet. “You’ll be late for...whatever you said you were doing.” “Huh?!” Honoka pushed herself into a sitting position. “IT’S MONDAY?!” “Damn it, stop yelling!” “It’s going to be one of those days.” You sighed and stepped into the room before Mito could do anything else to Chika. “Riko-chan is waiting for us at the bus stop. Get dressed Chika-chan!” “Eeeeh?!” Honoka jumped to her feet, ready to protest only to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror across the room. Just as it had seemed her hair was much shorter. It was a similar color but the length was completely wrong. “What happened to my hair?! A-And my face. And…” She was completely different. Not even her face was her own. “Your face is fine, Chika-chan. Now hurry up and get dressed.” You said, her brow furrowed in confusion. Honoka turned toward You, catching a glimpse of a poster on the door. It was her, and the rest of Muse. “That’s me…” “What?” You glanced over her shoulder at the poster and sighed when she noticed what Chika was talking about. They really didn’t have the time. “Yeah, we know. You want to be just like Muse. Now hurry up. Riko-chan is going to...” She was cut off by the sound of an incoming call to Chika’s phone. “That’ll be her complaining that we’re late. We won’t be able to practice if you don’t hurry.” Honoka padded over to the phone, almost automatically, and picked it up, finding Riko’s picture on the screen. “She’s pretty…” You rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear that from you. Now come on and you can tell her yourself. It might keep her from yelling at us. Just pick up.” “R-Right!” Honoka laughed nervously and answered the call. “Hello?” “Chika-chan, where are you?!” Riko asked loudly. “I’ve been waiting here for…” Honoka panicked and took the phone away from her ear, hurriedly ending the call. “YOU HUNG UP ON HER?!” You asked, earning herself an angry growl from Mito. “S-Sorry. Come on, Chika-chan. Get dressed. Please?” “R-Right.” Honoka wasn’t sure what was going on but she figured it was best to try to act normal. She found a uniform hung up across the room and turning her back to You, changed quickly. Automatically she tugged a section of her hair up into a side half ponytail. “Uh...new look?” You asked from the doorway, confused by the change. For as long as she’d known her Chika had always worn her hair the same way. “You’re acting weirder than usual. Are you alright?” “I am!” Honoka exclaimed quickly. “I-I just felt like a change.” You narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You sounded just like a city girl there, Chika-chan…” “Uh...I guess I’ve been watching too many dramas. It’s nothing. L-Let’s go!” You led the way out of the door, looking back to make sure Honoka was following her. “Chika-chan, are you still upset about what the student council president said yesterday?” “Who?” “So you are.” You said with a sigh. “Don’t let it get you down. She might come around yet…” She mistook Honoka’s confused look for scepticism. “I know. It’s a longshot. She really hates the idea of an idol group…” “Idols…?” Honoka mumbled, mostly to herself as she followed You out of the door. “Huh…” “Do you want to try to talk to her again?” You suggested. “We have Riko-chan now.” “Riko-chan’s the pretty one, with Umi’s eyes.” Honoka said to herself, trying to commit the name and face to memory. She realized in alarm that she didn’t know the name of the girl she was speaking to. “Um...hey. We’re friends, aren’t we?” “Of course. Best friends.” You flashed Chika a small smile despite her concern. “Though if you keep calling Riko-chan pretty I might take offence.” “O-Oh, I-I mean you’re pretty too!” Honoka said quickly, not wanting to offend the girl in front of her. “So um...I mean just to remind me, what’s your name again?” “Seriously, Chika?” You asked in exasperation. “What’s wrong with you? Did you hit your head or something?” “W-Well that girl did tackle me before…” Honoka said, hoping her excuse worked. “You mean Mito-san. One of your older sisters.” You reminded her carefully. “Whatever. My name’s You, remember?” “Ah, yeah. You-chan.” Honoka said with a nervous laugh. “Of course.” “Look Chika-chan, let’s just hurry up.” You said, exasperated. “Hopefully you’ll feel better when we find Riko-chan.” “Okay!” Honoka exclaimed, picking up her pace along with You. It didn’t take them more than ten minutes to get to the bus stop where Riko was waiting anxiously.

“Where have you been?!” Riko exclaimed when she caught sight of them. “I’ve been waiting for you for almost forty minutes!” “Chika-chan woke up late and started yelling.” You said, glancing at Chika. “So she got into a fight with Mito-san, hit her head and then she forgot my name. Not yours though, she keeps rambling on about how pretty you are.” She grinned at Chika whose eyes widened. Riko on the other hand blushed in response. “W-What? Chika-chan, are you okay? Why is your hair different today?” “Sure, n-now let’s go to practice!” Honoka started to walk right past the bus stop only for You to grab her arm. “We have to take the bus, remember? It’s too far to walk.” You said pointedly. “Ah, of course.” Honoka smiled. She turned to the road, her hands clasped behind her back and waited patiently for the bus, trying not to glance at the other two girls. They reminded her of Umi and Kotori, in a way. It only made her miss her friends. --- “Onee-chan, you’re going to be late! Did you forget to set you alarm clock again?” Chika groaned and turned over, bringing the blankets back over her head. It was only when the insistent knocking at the door continued that she sat up with a weary sigh. “I’m up!” The door opened across the room and Chika looked in that direction, faltering when a dark haired girl walked into the room. “Huh?” “Onee-chan.” Yukiho said disapprovingly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You promised Umi-san and Kotori-san you’d leave early. They’re waiting outside for you now.” “Huh?” Chika said again. She cast a quick glance around, realizing that she didn’t recognize the room she was in. “What…Umi-chan? Kotori-chan?” The names were all too familiar and she quickly jumped out of bed - noticing she’d been in one rather than on a futon - and rushed to the mirror. Her eyes widened when she found the face of the girl she idolized staring back at her. “Oh...Oh!” She lifted her hand to her much longer hair, playing with the ends. “HONOKA!” “Honoka-chaaaan!” “Hmm?” Hearing someone calling from the window, Chika went over and threw it open, looking down at the street. There were two girls standing there, both of whom she recognised. “I-I’ll be right down!” She closed the window quickly and turned to Yukiho who was watching her skeptically. “I’m going to Otonokizaka! I get to wear the uniform!” “You’re...weirder than usual.” Yukiho commented before she turned and left the room. Chika didn’t pay any attention to the comment, turning to dress in Honoka’s school uniform. It had to be some kind of dream. The kind of dream where it’s obvious it’s a dream but she didn’t care. She was in the body of the person she admired most and she was going to Otonokizaka high. She didn’t care about anything else. As quickly as she could, she brushed her teeth in the bathroom and hurried off down the stairs, grabbing her bag. “I’m off!” She didn’t wait for a response before she was out of the door, heading toward Kotori and Umi. “Sorry I’m late!” “Your hair is down…” Umi said faintly, staring at Honoka’s hair. While half of it would usually be up in a ponytail at the side, it was completely down, falling freely over Honoka’s shoulder. Somehow it made her look even prettier, especially coupled with the excited smile on her face. “Ah, I felt like a change!” Chika exclaimed brightly. “Do you like it?” Umi blushed and looked away, giving a vague nod while Kotori smiled knowingly at her. “It looks good, Honoka-chan. But we don’t match anymore.” Kotori pouted as she stepped forward and used her fingers to gently sweep Honoka’s hair to the side so it looked more styled. “There.” Umi bit her lip as she watched. She wished she could do that but she’d never been as bold as Kotori. Not even with the girl she liked. Not even with Honoka. “Thanks, Kotori-chan.” Chika said with a small smile before she looked toward Umi. “You look nice.” Umi confirmed again, trying to push down her embarrassment. She would never be able to muster up the courage to tell Honoka she liked her if she couldn’t even compliment her. “P-Pretty even…” “Thank you, Umi-chan!” Chika bound over to give Umi a hug but stopped a couple of steps away “Ah...can I hug you?” “What? Why?” Umi asked, shocked. She looked over Honoka’s shoulder as Kotori cleared her throat, finding her best friend shaking her head. “I-I mean of course. You don’t have to ask.” Chika grinned and flung her arms around Umi, hugging her close. Hugging Honoka was like being engulfed in warmth. A warmth she never wanted to leave. Umi wrapped her arms around Honoka in return and rested her head on her shoulder, breathing in her scent. It ended far too quickly for her liking as Honoka pulled away and started off down the road. “Come on!” Kotori joined Umi, smiling warmly at her. “You two are so cute.” “Kotori…” Umi grumbled in embarrassment though she had to admit that it was comforting to have Kotori’s support. She hadn’t been sure how her best friend would react to her feelings for Honoka. All three of them were close after all, but Kotori had been happy about it. She’d even said she would do anything in her power to help Umi win Honoka’s love. --- Chika sighed as she looked over the pile of paperwork in front of her. She’d thought they would be going to school early so they could do something idol related, like practice. She’d spent the entire walk to school daydreaming about being able to learn from Muse. Even if it was all in her imagination. Umi and Kotori were hard at work, Umi writing something down while Kotori was talking about the pros and cons of having certain clubs at the school. Chika vaguely wondered if having to do boring student council work was the reason Dia was so angry all of the time. “I’m going to the bathroom.” She declared suddenly, standing up from her seat. Two surprised stares turned toward her. “Heh. I won’t be long.” She hurried around the desk and left the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as she was out, she breathed a sigh of relief. The sound of a piano playing caused her to straighten up. “Music…” She murmured to herself. She listened for a moment before deciding to follow the sound. She walked down the hallway, finding the music getting louder with every step she took. Finally she found herself standing in front of the music room. She carefully opened the door and stepped inside. The girl behind the piano had her eyes closed so she didn’t notice the intrusion. The first thing Chika noticed was that the girl was pretty. Oddly pretty. She looked a lot like Riko though her hair was brighter than Riko’s was. Chika wondered if it was the piano playing that made her look more like Riko than she actually did. The girl, who Chika soon recognized as Nishikino Maki, was singing softly, mostly to herself as she played and Chika couldn’t help but smile at the sound. The girl’s voice was distinctive, easy to recognize. “Maki-chan?!” She couldn’t hold herself back for very long, overwhelmed at meeting one of her idols. “Hot and cool, Maki-chan?!” Maki’s eyes sprung open as she stopped playing. “Eh?! Honoka, what the hell are you doing here? A-And hot and cool?” “Your personality.” Chika practically skipped over to Maki, her hands clasped behind her back. “This song sounds so much better when you sing it acoustically. Will you sing it again for me, Maki-chan?” Without waiting for an invitation, she sat herself down on the piano bench next to Maki. “You should make a playlist of all of your songs. Piano versions so I can listen to you sing all of the time.” “What?!” Maki asked incredulously, her face flushing at Honoka’s close proximity. She shuffled closer to the edge of the bench. “W-Why are you even here?!” “I just wanted to hear the great Maki-chan play.” Chika said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Your playing is beautiful.” She wondered if it was biased to say she preferred Riko’s. Maki was probably just as good, if not better, but Chika felt like she could get lost in the music when Riko played. It felt like every note was played for her when Riko played, though she knew that wasn’t the case. “H-Honoka…” Maki turned her head, flinching when she found Honoka sitting as oddly close as she had been before. She felt herself start to fall and grabbed onto Honoka, pulling her with her. She hit the floor hard, Honoka on top of her. “O-Ouch…” Chika braced herself with her hand against the floor and leaned back to really look at Maki. She really was pretty, she noticed, though she didn’t look much like Riko. Her hair was too bright and her eyes weren’t the same. Riko’s eyes were golden brown, not the bright violet that Maki’s were. As Maki shifted underneath her, it occurred to Chika that it might not be a dream after all. The soft swell of Maki’s breasts brushing against her and the warmth of their legs touching was evidence enough of that. Not to mention the slight pain in her knees from the fall. “Honoka, stop staring and get OFF ME!” Maki exclaimed, pushing against Honoka’s shoulders. Chika laughed nervously and stood up. “S-Sorry, you’re just so pretty I couldn’t help it.” She offered her hand to Maki, her gaze sweeping over her. The way Maki was sitting, with her knees up made it easy for Chika to see things she most likely wasn’t meant to. “So Maki-chan wears pink underwear…” “Argh, HONOKA!” Maki pushed herself up on her own, her cheeks flaming in embarrassment as she quickly pushed her skirt down. “You’re such a PERVERT!” “Eh?” Chika looked surprised at first but quickly relaxed into a smile. “Just when it comes to Maki-chan.” “THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU!” Maki yelled, consciously covering herself. She was more embarrassed by the fact that it was strangely satisfying to have Honoka look at her. “I’m gonna tell Umi and Kotori how much of a pervert you are.” “I’m not a pervert...though I guess I understand the ‘hot’ part of your nickname now. Maki-chan is…” She was cut off as Maki stepped forward and slapped her, not too hard but hard enough to sting. Her hand flew to her suddenly much too warm cheek. “Oooow, Maki-chan…” “You’re such an idiot.” Maki said though she sounded more upset than angry now. “You can’t just say things like that. You have to at least...at least show an interest first. You can’t ignore me most of the time then come and say those things…” “What?” Chika asked, baffled. “IDIOT!” Maki exclaimed again before she grabbed her bag and fled the room, leaving Chika staring after her in confusion, rubbing her sore face. ---- “You’re sure you’re ready for this?” You asked, recalling what had happened the last time Chika had spoken with Dia. It hadn’t gone well, to say the least. “Uh...yeah.” Honoka answered, still a bit shaken by the incident earlier. She wasn’t sure how she was meant to react after almost being run over by a helicopter. She was confident about being able to speak to the student council president though. “I know how to handle stubborn student council presidents.” “Since when?” You asked skeptically as Riko raised an eyebrow. “Uh...Nothing.” Honoka answered sheepishly. “Nevermind. Let’s just do this.” She took a deep breath before she knocked briefly on the door and pushed it open. “Sorry to…” “Mari-san, get out of my chair!” A dark haired girl was saying, trying to prise a blonde girl from her seat. “Nooooo!” The blonde didn’t seem in any mood to move. “I sat here first, Dia!” “It’s MY CHAIR!” Dia exclaimed loudly. “I have work to do, you can’t stay in here all day!” “I can, I’m the chairman!” Mari leaned away from Dia, doing her utmost to keep from being prised away from the chair she’d situated herself in. “Unhand me, Dia!” “UNHAND MY CHAIR!” Honoka’s gaze flicked between the two of them as she tried to follow along with the conversation. It wasn’t easy. It was like listening to Nico and Nozomi arguing. “Hey, you’re the crazy girl who almost ran us over!” Honoka’s moment of realization interrupted Mari’s arguing with Dia and they both turned to her. “You almost kill-” “SHINY!” Mari finally vacated Dia’s chair but only to get closer to the three girls. “I’m the new director!” “What?” Honoka narrowed her eyes at the girl. Even she found that difficult to believe. “The new director?” “Yes!” Mari exclaimed in a high pitched voice that made Honoka want to block her ears. “But relax, feel free to call me ‘Mari’.” “But…” You started to say only to be cut off my Mari. “Want some tea?” “This isn’t real…” Honoka muttered to herself, casting a brief glance toward Dia. If it had been Eli she would have taken control of the situation and kicked Mari out already. Or at least tried to. “Ms. director…” Suddenly the blonde was right in front of her. “I said to call me Mari.” “Uh...Mari.” Honoka said, forcing a smile to her lips. “Yes!” Mari exclaimed brightly, leaning even closer to Honoka’s face. “Y-You-chan…” Honoka turned to You, confused and frustrated. “What’s happening?” “I wish I knew.” You answered, just as perplexed as her friend. “Stop touching my chest!” Dia’s voice caught Honoka’s attention and she turned back to where Mari had previously been standing, finding her a few steps back, her hands on the Student Council President’s chest. The blonde was hurriedly pushed away. “Stop your nonsense!” “It’s a joke!” Mari stated brightly, in English. Honoka sighed to herself. Clearly Dia wasn’t as strict as Eli or even Umi. “The Student Council President is Nico-chan…” “Goodness, I thought you were gone for good when you left during our first year.” Dia spoke. “Why on earth are you back now?” “SHINY!” Mari exclaimed, throwing the curtains open. “No. No way…” Honoka turned to leave only for Riko and You to grab her arms, tugging her back to them. “She’s crazy!” “Aww, don’t say mean things!” Mari exclaimed. “I even got you a booking at the Akiba bowl in Tokyo!” Honoka spun around in surprise, finding Mari standing in front of her again. “Are you serious?! Even Mu-” “It’s joke!” “That’s not something to joke about!” Honoka exclaimed angrily. She rubbed her throbbing temples, sighing to herself and wondered when she would wake up. It was just a bad dream. It had to be. --- Honoka had turned up late for class, predictably though what took Umi by surprise was the red mark on her cheek. It was clearly a handprint, like someone had slapped her. After Honoka had apologized to the teacher and sat down, Umi leaned toward her. “What did you do?” She hissed. “Who hit you?” “Ah...Maki-chan.” Chika admitted, rubbing her cheek. She noticed her bag was hanging on her chair and assumed either Kotori or Umi must have brought it for her. “It’s fine.”

“Maki-chan?” Kotori turned around to look at Honoka, frowning at the sight of her cheek. “What did you do? She’s been calmer since our first training camp…” Chika whimpered and rested her head on the desk. Already, she was messing up. “Honoka…” Umi’s hand twitched at her side. She wanted to reach out to her but she didn’t think she could muster up the courage. “Sonoda-san, Minami-san, Kousaka-san, please pay attention.” The teacher declared from the front of the class, causing Umi to sit up straight. Chika sighed heavily. The pain in her cheek felt real. Much too real for it to be a dream of any kind. “Kousaka-san, do you need to go to the nurse?” It took Chika a moment to realize she was being spoken. “Y-Yes.” She stood up from her chair, grabbing her bag. “Thank you.” “Put an ice pack on it!” Umi whispered in concern as Chika passed her desk. Chika nodded to show she heard before she left the room, closing the door behind her. She supposed that it was a good thing she was in the same year as Honoka at least. She would never have been able to handle third year work. Not that she had to at the moment. “Honoka?” Finding her path blocked suddenly, Chika looked up and found a tall blonde standing in front of her. “Uh…” “What happened to your face?” Eli asked, her eyes widening at the sight of the mark. “Come on, I’ll take a look at it.” “O-Okay.” Chika barely had time to agree before Eli had grabbed her hand and dragged her off down the hallway. She found herself pulled into a room filled with posters of idols and looked around in awe. “Whoa…” “Let me see.” Eli gripped Honoka’s chin and gently tilted her head so she could examine her cheek. “Who did this?” Her voice was clipped with barely restrained anger. “Another student?” “I’m in the clubroom?” Chika asked in awe as she took in the walls, lined with DVD box sets and idol merchandise. “Muse’s clubroom?!” “Honoka, pay attention.” Eli ordered, drawing Chika’s attention back to her. “Who did this?” “S-Sorry, Eli-chan. Uh...it was Maki-chan.” “Huh?” Eli’s brow furrowed in confused. “Chan? Why are you...?” Chika’s eyes widened in surprise. She must have stepped out of line. “Eli-san?” “San?” Eli frowned, even more confused now. “I uh…” Chika panicked for a moment, trying to figure out what she was doing wrong. “S-Senpai?” She watched as Eli nodded, still looking confused. “Eli-senpai! O-Okay…” “Did you get hit anywhere else?” Eli was suddenly closer, looking for any sign that she’d been hit on the head. “Your hair is down. Why is your hair down?” “I-I felt like a change. You...don’t like it?” Chika, realizing that she was about to be found out, scrambled for a way to distract Eli. She settled for looking slightly upset. “N-No, it’s fine. I just like your normal hairstyle too.” Eli said with a quick shake of her head. “You smell sweet.” Chika said as Eli continued to look for any sign that she had hurt herself. “I ate chocolate earlier.” Eli explained, slightly embarrassed. “So anyway, why did Maki-chan hit you? You must have done something pretty embarrassing.” “Uh...I might have fallen on top of her. And I saw her panties. And I suggested she’s hot.” Chika awkwardly scratched the back of her head. “I wasn’t being rude or anything, I just…” “It’s Maki-chan. Of course she hit you for that.” Eli said with a roll of her eyes. “Wait...since when do you notice things like that? You’re Honoka. The girl who didn’t even notice when a classmate wrote her a love letter. And you just called Maki hot. Hot, Honoka!” “Uh...I notice, I just don’t say anything.” Chika said nervously. “A-And I like Maki-chan. She’s passionate and caring and...pretty.” She reminded her a lot of Riko, which she supposed was why she liked her. “Right.” Eli said skeptically. “Oh, um...Eli-senpai.” Chika started apprehensively. “Just so I know, um...where is Nozomi-senpai?” She hoped she was right in saying that. She had to imagine that the only people she would refer to as Senpai were Eli and Nozomi. “You don’t call her Nozomi-senpai.” Eli said with a wave of her hand. “And stop changing the subject. You like Maki?” “Yes!” Chika pulled her phone - or rather, Honoka’s phone out of her pocket and quickly unlocked the screen, going through the gallery until she found a certain picture. “See? I took this picture of her because she’s cute.” Eli looked to the phone, taking in the picture of Maki sleeping at her piano. “You took pictures of Umi and Kotori too. You called it ‘My cute friends’ or something...seriously Honoka, what’s going on with you?” The bell rang just as Chika opened her mouth to reply. “S-Sorry, I have to get back to class!” She hurried out of the room, bumping into a shorter girl who was about to enter. “The hell Honoka?!” “Uh...sorry, who are you?” “What?!” Nico rose up to full height, anger flashing across her face. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?!” “Eeeeh?!” Chika flinched backwards, startled by the girl’s anger. “How can you forget my name? I’m Nico Nii!” “Ah, right!” Chika exclaimed. She felt somewhat guilty. She always forgot the pig haired girl’s name. “S-Sorry, usually someone has to remind...ah, I didn’t mean it! I was just thinking out loud a-and...I have to go!” “WHAT THE HELL?!” “Nico, calm down. Don’t hit her!” Eli stepped between the two of them to keep them apart. “I don’t think Honoka’s feeling like herself today so just...let’s not get angry with her, okay?” “Thanks, Eli-cha...I mean Eli-senpai. I have to go!” Chika took off down the corridor, wondering if it would be possible to find somewhere quiet to hide for the rest of the day. --- “One, two, three. One, two, three.” Honoka fumbled a little bit through the steps. She’d gotten used to learning new choreography but she had never practiced these moves before. She couldn’t help but worry that You and Riko would notice but they didn’t seem to. They seemed a little bit under practiced themselves. They had been out in the afternoon sun for what must have been an hour already and she was sweating from the heat but she didn’t care. She could almost feel the determination of the girl whose body she was possessing. That was why when Mari had suggested she help them practice she hadn’t said no. You and Riko were practicing just as hard as she was, she noticed as she glanced toward them. A flash of Umi and Kotori filled her mind, of them practicing for their first performance. She’d noticed that Riko and You looked at her the same way Umi and Kotori looked at her. Chika must really inspire them, she realized though she couldn’t help but wonder who inspired Chika in return. Her eyes blurred, her chest aching with the desire to see her friends and to help the girl’s in front of her. She stopped practicing, taking a deep breath. “Chika-chan?!” You and Riko asked in concern as Mari stopped filming on her phone. Honoka took another deep breath before she let out a frustrated scream that caught all three of the girl’s by surprise. “FIGHT!” “Wha…?” You stared at Chika in surprise. “Chika-chan…” “We have to show her! Even if we don’t have anyone watching us, we have to show her!” Honoka turned toward You and Riko. “Don’t let the President push you down. We have to keep fighting so we can get our idol group! We can’t give up. Even if there’s nobody at the concert tomorrow we have to sing and dance our hearts out. We have to keep going. Are you with me? Riko-chan, You-chan?!” “YEAH!” The two girls exclaimed, smiles on their faces. Mari raised an eyebrow. She almost wish she hadn’t stopped recording. She would have liked to have shown Dia that speech. “Impressive…” --- Honoka wasn’t sure she’d ever had to suffer through such a tiring day, even in the early days of Muse. It was hard work, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She yawned as she leaned further into Riko, letting the girl guide her to the bus stop. You had chosen to go home on her bike, leaving the two alone together. Thankfully Riko didn’t seem to mind being leaned on. She hadn’t complained once. “We are going to show her, right Chika-chan?” Riko spoke suddenly, her voice hopeful. “You meant what you said earlier?” “Duh! Don’t worry, Riko-chan. We can do it. Just keep going and I know the three of us can do anything together. We’ll get our idol group, I just know it!” The confident response brought a smile to Riko’s lips. “Thank you…” She glanced to Honoka, noticing her grinning. Chika’s smile was a bit off but it was no less dazzling than usual. “Eh…” “You really are pretty, Riko-chan.” Honoka said, yawning again into her hand. “Especially when you’re embarrassed.” “S-Shut up.” Riko mumbled, not sure what else to say. “Is that my house?” Honoka asked tiredly as she nodded to one of the houses ahead. “Uh...that’s mine.” Riko said unsurely. “Yours is just opposite. I’ll take you there myself.” Honoka hummed and rested her head on Riko’s shoulder like she had a hundred times with Umi and Kotori. “You’re a good friend, Riko-chan.” She mumbled, not noticing Riko’s blush. --- When Honoka woke up the next morning she expected to find herself still sleeping on a futon. That was certainly how she’d fallen asleep anyway. She was grateful to find herself sleeping in her own bed, surrounded by her own things. “It was just a dream.” She murmured, reaching out to turn off her alarm clock. She paused, noticing writing on her hand. “Sorry for the sore cheek.” She read out loud. ”I’m Chika by the way!” She lifted her hand to her cheek, finding it was indeed tender. “What?” Noticing her phone flashing on her bedside table, she picked it up and noticed she had a text from Nico. ‘You have some explaining to do when you get to school. Eli won’t be there to protect you this time’. “WHAT?!” Yukiho opened the door a moment later. “Oh good, you’re awake. Umi-san and Kotori-san are waiting for you. Umi-san doesn’t look happy with you…” --- Chika felt a combination of relieved and disappointed when she woke to her own bed. So it had been just a dream. But it had felt so real. She sat up, idly rubbing her head and yawned. She would have to get ready for school. She began to push herself off the floor but paused, noticing ink on the back of her hand. “Check your phone.” She read out loud, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Honoka...Honoka?!” She quickly reached for her phone, finding a text from You with times for a concert. Their concert. She quickly scanned the rest of her phone, soon finding a video of herself practicing with You and Riko. She didn’t remember doing that. Not with the unfamiliar girl talking in the background. “What the heck…” TBC

[devilssnarerp]

Congratulations KENNA! You have been accepted as Trenton Rosier. Please go through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours. If you need more time, make sure you send a message to the main.

I can’t wait to see a character that has as much importance as Trenton on the dash. He surely will have a different opinion that the majority of students, and the conflict it will create will be awesome. I can’t wait to interact with Trenton and to see him cause so much drama. Welcome to Devil’s Snare!

OOC INFO -- About the Player

Name & Age:

Kenna, 22

Preferred Pronouns:

She/Her

Timezone & Activity Level:

PST

Anything Else:

So excited to be here!

IC INFORMATION

Character Name:

Trenton Atilius Rosier

Age & Year:

Seventeen, Seventh Year

Birthday:

September 1st

Birthplace:

Oxford, UK

Blood Status:

Pureblood

House:

Slytherin

Face Claim:

Matthew Daddario

Personality:

Trenton has always been the most serious of the three boys in his family, evident even at birth. By the time he was nine he had mostly outgrown the imaginary friends, belly laughs, and wild abandon of kids his age; when he played it was to win, the only real exception being with his best friend. His loyalty to those who earn it is unbreakable, especially to his family, but he is not so easily won over. Taking after his father, he has never been a very trusting person, though as with his loyalty if someone puts in enough work he may eventually let them in. For the most part however, he tries to play things close to the vest; Trenton is a firm believer in not putting too many eggs in one basket, not even his best friend knows all of his secrets. Growing up surrounded by blood purists had the desired effect on Trenton. Both his parents were firm believers in a new order where muggles no longer had any power over wizards, no more hiding their abilities behind closed doors. All of their friends, with whom Trenton spent most weekends and even some evenings after work and lessons, believed the same. Their kids, his friends, even his brothers believed it. There wasn’t a chance he would be allowed to grow up thinking anything else, and Trenton did not disappoint. Deep down he is uncertain why he thinks purity is the most important thing about wizards, but at this point the feeling of dislike has become too ingrained into his personality for him to question it without dismantling his entire belief system.

Biography:

Long before Trenton Rosier was even a thought, his grandparents were devout supporters of the Dark Lord. During his first reign, Trenton’s grandfather was killed by aurors, leaving his young children alone with only their mother, who was forced into hiding on the mainland for many years. The kids grew up hearing many stories about how their heroic father went down fighting for the cause, rather than quietly giving himself up to the Ministry like a coward. They idolized him, and while they may have missed him dearly and wished he could have watched them grow up, none of the children had anything but respect for their father. Many years later, around the turn of the century, Marcus Rosier married a pureblooded woman whose family was close with his, and returned to the UK, just as his father would have wanted - it was a union of strategy rather than love, but it didn’t hurt that his new bride was the sole heir to a rather large estate and fortune. Not long after their marriage came the birth of their first son, Braden, and only a year later came a second, Logan. It was at that point Marcus’s tolerance of muggle oppression hit an all-time low, and he began organizing meetings with some of his closest friends to discuss the future of wizardkind. Under the pretense of being a social group, Marcus’s followers began to grow. He was very cautious only to discuss such important matters with those he knew could be trusted, and every person took time to vet before they were granted insider information. The process was slow-going, but Marcus felt that secrecy was the key to their success - the Death Eaters had lacked a certain subtlety and in the end he felt that had been the reason for their failure. He was determined to succeed where Voldemort had not. Four years after the birth of his second son came a third: Trenton. He was a strange baby from the start, and for a long while his mother feared he was ill or even mentally unbalanced; he rarely cried, laughed only for his brothers and the Nott baby who was close in age, and seemed generally uninterested in the typical toys of infants. Even as a child he seemed serious and attentive, his gaze seemingly intensely set on whatever he happened to be looking at. For months his mother refused to let him out of her sight for longer than ten minutes at a time, concerned with his abnormal behavior. As time went on and young Trenton seemed to relax, his mother grew less and less attached, exhausted from watching him so intently and constantly for so long a time. By the time he turned one, Trenton’s demeanor had changed enough that no one who met him would be able to guess the troubling start to life he had. Just before his second birthday, a ghastly rumor spread throughout Marcus’s group of purists. One of the members, assigned the duty of vetting foreign contacts in the hopes of beginning an international movement, was expecting a new baby, and there were many whispers that the timeline didn’t add up. Devoted servant to the cause, the man had been out of the country during the time the baby would have been conceived; when the girl was born her mother insisted premature labor, but many still had their doubts. She was a very attractive woman, and while at the time they had interpreted it as devotion, she had been spending a considerable amount of time with a man who was not her husband.. Marcus did his best to silence the whisperers, knowing full well the child was his. He had never truly loved his wife just as she had never truly loved him, and though she now turned her back on him save for social events, the only regret he felt was for the indiscretion had begat a halfblood child. Their sham of a marriage did not last much longer however, for the woman had long grown tired of pretending to love a man whose presence she loathed, and the insult of his affair was enough to give her the courage she needed. Homesick for her family, she divorced her husband and left their three sons in his care to return to the mainland just after Trenton’s seventh birthday. While they write each other fairly regularly, Trenton has not seen his mother in person in many years. Marcus did his best to be a strong figure his sons could follow as they grew, the way his father had been for him. Unfortunately, as he had spent most of his life not knowing his father but through the stories told by his mother, Marcus had very little idea of how to behave around his boys. Talking with them was challenging enough for him, but to be a parent? He didn’t have the slightest clue where to start. And so Trenton and his brothers grew up admiring their father, the figurehead of the Purity movement and a strong head of their household, but not really knowing the man on a very personal level. Nannies were the people who raised the Rosier boys after their mother left, and though their father did his best to parent when he knew how, Trenton may as well have been orphaned. His father took him to quidditch matches but never threw a quaffle around with him at home, bought him his own owl but rarely sent him anything. Still, having inherited so much of his father’s serious demeanor, Trenton did not mind this lack of affection as much as his brothers. There were no hugs or I love you’s, only claps on the shoulder for making the quidditch team and respectfully inclined heads for getting full marks in Transfiguration, and Trenton learned early on that the only opinion of any real importance was his own. Trenton did not cry as many first years did when they boarded the train to Hogwarts. That being said, he knew he would miss his father greatly and, not wanting to show any weakness in front of his father, when he stepped onto the train he did not look back to wave one last goodbye. Had he done so he might have seen the sadness in his father’s eyes, possibly the first real sign of delicate emotion the man had let show in a long time. Trenton was mildly excited for his new school, though having heard so much about it from his brothers it was not half the mystery to him that it was to most others. He and Zane spent the entire train ride playing exploding snap and eating as much candy from the trolly as they could possibly fit in their stomachs; what they could not finish, they stored in their trunks for later that night. After all, it was Trenton’s birthday, and he deserved some type of celebration. The Sorting Hat debated for far too long in Trenton’s opinion, before deciding to put him in Slytherin. According to it, he had potential in any of the four houses, and in fact it tried changed its mind many times before finally placing him in the house of the serpent, though its reasons had been unclear. It mentioned something about his mind being too full of other voices for him to know what is right for him, and that “Slytherins will help clear that up in no time.” To this day he hasn’t any idea what the Hat may have meant. Regardless, he joined Zane at the table decorated in green and silver, never to question its decision.

Headcanons:

(I.) Zannon Warrington has been Trenton’s best friend for longer than he can remember - the way his brothers tell it, the two have shared a fondness and playful rivalry since their diaper days. Truth be told, Trent loves Zane every bit as much as his own family members and would die for his friend without a second thought. As serious as Trent is, Zane is his polar opposite, balancing Trent out with his endless sarcasm and jokes. He frequently forces Trent to step outside his comfort zone and relax, and though he’d deny it ‘til the end, Trenton loves him for it; the majority of his happiest memories only happened because of the boy he’s come to see as his third and closest brother.

(II.) As a student Trenton isn’t top of the class, but he’s no slacker either. Some subjects, such as Transfiguration, are easy for him, while others like Divination and Potions are more of a struggle. He sees no merit in relying on soggy tea leaves or a ball full of mist to predict his future, and following potions directions to a tee is something he has to really focus on to get right. It was thanks to his poor Divination performance that he reconnected with Anastasia Zabini, the daughter of one of his father’s old friends and the future love of his life. Since becoming close with her Trenton has gotten better at hiding his loathing for Divination, but he still believes it to be an obsolete subject.

(III.) After divorcing his father and leaving her family, Trenton did not hear from his mother for years. In fact, his first letter from her did not arrive until a week before he left for Hogwarts. She explained that she still loved him and wanted what was best for him, but her life had been chosen for her and she couldn’t allow that to continue any longer. Her letter said she feared Trenton may one day be faced with the same situation, the way his father was pursuing his cause no matter the consequences; she didn’t want Trenton and his brothers to get sucked into the battle out of loyalty to their father, and invited him to come live with her. It wasn’t until that point that Trenton realized just how angry he was with his mother for being so selfish as to leave her own flesh and blood, young children no less, and not even have the decency to write until four years later. He tore up the letter and pitched it. It was another two years before Trenton decided to write her back, and the two have slowly built up their relationship since. Now the two correspond about every two or three weeks, but Trenton will never be able to fully trust her.

(IV.) Trent’s long-time closeness with Kiri Camden eventually earned him her trust, and around Christmas of his sixth year she confided in him that her mother had been involved in an affair long ago and the man she had believed to be her father wasn’t actually related to her. This thought lingered in the back of his mind for a while, nudging at some old rumors he’d heard of his own father’s infidelity around that same time. With the help of his brothers and best friend, Trent discovered that his friend’s deceased mother had run in the same circle as his father back in the day, and the two had been very close indeed. In a moment of bravery he wasn’t quite sure how he mustered, Trent asked his father for the truth and the man confirmed it, though insisted Trent was not to breathe a word to anyone, as the woman had been a halfblood and therefore impure by Rosier standards. Trent, who has long-since grown to love Kiri like the little sister he never had, has absolutely no idea how to tell her that they really are related - especially since the thing Kiri wants more than anything is a family, and their father wants nothing to do with her.

Writing Sample:

I don’t want to do this so just use the Kiri/Trenton quidditch thread

OPTIONAL INFORMATION

Wand:

Hawthorn, two unicorn foal tail hairs, 12 1/3 inches, extremely rigid

Amortentia:

Anastasia’s favourite perfume; broomstick handle polish - the weekly routine of maintaining his quidditch equipment, something he’s done since he was ten; salty sea air - it reminds him of his favourite vacation from long ago, when his family was together and happy

Boggart:

Varies between his brother’s dead body, Zane’s, Anastasia’s, and his own. Trenton fears death above all else - though his reckless competitions with Zane beg to differ; he fears the finality, the inevitability that it will happen to him and everyone he loves, and there’s nothing he will be able to do to stop it when the time comes.

Dementor:

During a family trip to South Germany when he was young to visit one of his father’s old friends, Trenton wandered off to explore the nearby forest where he was entranced by a pleasant sort of cackling a ways off. Curious and daring as he was, he set out to find the source and stumbled into an Erkling who promptly tried to catch and eat the young boy. Out of pure luck Trenton managed to outrun the creature until he was near enough the house to call for help. His brothers came running just as the Erkling caught hold of Trenton’s ankle, throwing heavy rocks at the creature until it let the small boy go free and retreated. On his worst nights Trenton sometimes still has nightmares of the rows of sharp teeth mere inches away from his face, and every time he nears a dementor he is forced to hear the high pitched cackling he once found so entrancing it nearly got him eaten alive.

Patronus:

Clouded leopard- sly, cunning, lethal, blends in well, silent but deadly. His best memory is one of a Christmas ball his father hosted a couple of years back; he invited Anastasia on one of their first real dates outside of Hogwarts. Halfway through the night he was struck with the realization that he loved her, subsequently panicked, essentially abandoned her, and when she finally tracked him down she told him - as if reading his mind - that when you love someone you do not leave her standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, especially mid-song. It was one of her more bossy moments in life, and Trenton fell even harder for her.

Anything Else:

Nothing!