#idk if I'm supposed to format it hi

[lee-laurent]

Playing Pretend - Jamie Drysdale

Summary: In which Jamie and his girlfriend end things after pretending everything was okay. Or in which Jamie's girlfriend moves in with Trevor while attempting to keep her pregnancy hidden from everyone.

content: pregnancy, mentions of abortion, long distance, keeping secrets from partner (if that's a warning idk), angst, fluff, mentions of sex, implications of cheating/being unfaithful, jamie's trade :(

notes: this one is a bit more angsty than my other fics. i wanted to experiment with trying something new. possible happy ending tho. guess you'll have to read to find out ;) sorry if it seems rushed, i didn't know how to format it :/

"Of course, you have options. You can read more about those here. This is a judgement free zone," the nurse continued to drone on about scheduling another appointment, but Violet had tuned her out. In fact, the only thing that Violet could hear was her heart pounding in her chest.

"Thank you," she mumbled, grabbing the paperwork and shoving it into her purse. All she wanted was Jamie and he was on the other side of the country.

Once she was safely in her car in the parking lot, she let the tears fall. A baby? How was she supposed to take care of a baby when her boyfriend lived five hours away by plane. They barely spoke more than twice a week at this point. Their relationship was falling apart and a baby wasn't going to save it.

"How was the doctor?" Trevor asked as she walked through the door, kicking off her shoes.

"Fine. Just food poisoning, like you thought."

"I told you! Never eat grocery store sushi, Vi. Should've listened to me."

"Ha. I guess you know best, Trev. I'm gonna go lie down. I'm still nauseous."

"Make sure you text Jamie! He was worried about you."

"I'm sure he was," she mumbled, making her way to her bedroom. She looked at the picture on her bedside table. It was of her and Jamie at his first game with the Ducks. She'd been so proud to see him move from the Gulls to the NHL. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and was looking down at her like she'd hung the moon and stars in the sky, while she smiled happily into the camera. Violet sighed, putting the photo face down. She couldn't bare to look at Jamie's face right now, photo or not.

Her phone buzzed.

Jamie <3: Trev texted. Said it's food poisoning like he thought. Feel better. I love you

Vi: Thanks, Jam. Love you too

Lying to Jamie made her stomach churn. In fact, everything was making her stomach churn at the moment. Trevor had made sausages with his breakfast that morning, leading to her projectile vomiting in the kitchen. Which is when Trevor finally convinced her to go to a walk-in clinic. A walk-in clinic that sent her to Planned Parenthood. And now at the thought of Jamie not knowing about his child mixed with the baby in her womb hating the smell of everything, she was leaned over the toilet once more.

"Vi? Do you want some ginger ale?" Trevor asked from the doorway.

"No. I'm okay, Trev. Just, I- I'd like to be alone right now."

"Oh, right. Call me if you need anything," he sighed, gently shutting the door behind him.

Violet sniffled, reaching for her phone on the counter next to her.

Jamie was worried sick about Violet, but he was also focused on the game of NHL 24 he was playing with Cam.

"Wait. Time out. Violet's texting."

"Oh, shit. What'd she say?"

"That... that we need to talk?" Jamie furrowed his eyebrows.

"Shit. We can finish this later. Call her."

"Thanks, Cam. I- I'll be back," Jamie stood up from the couch, albeit a bit wobbly from nerves, speeding off to his room.

"Hey," Violet's voice cracked as it broke through the speaker of his phone.

"Hey, um, what did you wanna talk about?"

"Long distance isn't working, Jamie. I- I think we should end things."

"What? Vi? Where is this coming from? Did- did you meet someone in Anaheim?"

"What? God, no. Jamie- I wouldn't cheat. You know that. I just- this is too much stress for me right now."

"Our relationship is too much stress for you? I- I told you that you could move here. We could get our own place. I-"

"Jamie, I have a life here. I have a job. My friends."

"I had all of that too. But, I- I'm making it work here. You could make it work here, Violet! Please don't do this. You- you're the love of my life."

"Jamie, don't make this harder than it needs to be. I can't do this anymore."

"Please, Violet. Please."

"We- if you need anything call Trevor. Goodbye, Jamie."

Jamie didn't return to his game with Cam; he spent the rest of the night crying himself to sleep on his bed.

"You broke up with Jamie?!" Trevor shouted the next morning, waking up an exhausted Violet.

"Trevor? It's 6 in the morning."

"Yeah? Well Jamie just called me in tears, saying that you dumped him OVER THE PHONE?!"

"We're long distance. How else was I supposed to do it?"

"You weren't supposed to do it at all, Violet! You guys are made for each other! What's with this sudden change of heart?"

"We were barely talking anymore. I need a present boyfriend."

"Vi-"

"Drop it, Trevor! It's frankly none of your business!"

"None of my bus-"

Violet gagged, leaning over and puking on the hardwood floor. She looked up at Trevor, wiping her mouth.

"Get me a paper towel, please."

"Right. Um, right... This conversation isn't over."

He returned with a roll of paper towels. Watching as she pulled herself out of bed, to clean up the mess next to her bed.

"Why'd you break up with him?"

"I just told you. It wasn't working."

"But, you didn't even try to make it work. He said you didn't communicate it wasn't going well until yesterday."

"Wow. Does Jamie tell you every intimate part of our relationship?" she snapped.

"No."

"It was rhetorical, Trevor."

"Oh. He loves you."

"I know."

"Do you not love him?"

"What? Of course I love him. He's the fa- the first man I loved. I'll always love him."

"Then why break up with him?! He- he said you could go live with him in Philly."

"I don't want to leave Anaheim. I want to r- never mind. But, my job is here."

"Get a new one."

"God! You're so immature! It's not that fucking easy, Trevor! I'm not going to start my entire life over for Jamie! So fucking drop it!"

"I-"

"Drop it!"

Trevor dropped it. At least with Violet he did. He spent every day trying to convince Jamie to call her. To fix things. To figure what he could do. Jamie wasn't easily convinced though. After the mental anguish that the phone call with his now ex-girlfriend had caused him, he wasn't sure he wanted to go through it again.

Violet's morning sickness hadn't ended. In fact, it was getting worse. Morning sickness? More like all day and all night sickness. She was in agony. And Trevor as oblivious as he was, was getting suspicious.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor again? I don't think food poisoning is supposed to last this long."

"It's probably just stress."

"Why're you stressed?"

"Work."

"But- okay? I still think you should go back."

"Trevor."

"Yes?"

"I'm fine."

"You're pretending."

"What?"

"You're pretending everything is okay. You're just afraid to admit that things are worse without Jamie. Not better. You're more stressed. Hence the vomiting."

"Trevor, I- I have work to do."

Two hours later Violet was in the kitchen doing dishes when her phone started ringing.

"Trev! Can you get that?"

"Sure."

"Hi! This is Alice from Anaheim OB/GYN, I was just calling to confirm your appointment on Friday with Dr. Rhodes," the voice came through the phone.

"Trev! Who is it?"

"Sure, just let me get the phone to Violet. Oh, perfect! Thank you!"

"Hi?" Violet asked, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Hi! Is this Violet?"

"Yes, this is she."

"Perfect! Just a few questions to go over before confirming your appointment."

"Oh, of course."

"Any abnormal bleeding?"

"No."

"Dizziness?"

"Nope."

"How's the nausea you mentioned last time you were in?"

"About the same."

"Okay, I'll let the nurse know. We can get you some tablets for that. See you Friday at 11:30."

"Perfect, thank you."

Violet sighed, hanging up the phone.

"You're pregnant?" Trevor whispered.

"What? No."

"She said she was calling from the OB/GYN's office. Isn't that a doctor for pregnant people?"

"Not always. They also give birth control and stuff."

"But why would you need birth control if you're not seeing Jamie anymore?"

"For my periods."

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying, Trevor. Why would I lie?"

"You're lying. You always itch your wrist when you lie. You're pregnant. Does Jamie know?"

"Maybe it isn't Jamie's?"

"Yeah? Who else have you slept with? Nobody. You and Jamie had sex the night before we left for Nashville."

"Who told you that?"

"Jamie."

"Ew. I-"

"So it is Jamie's?"

"I'm not pregnant."

"Violet... is this why you dumped him? Are you getting... you know?"

"Not pregnant, Trevor."

"Fine, I'll drop it for now. But, if you were pregnant, I, um, I'd be here to help. I promise."

"Good to know if I am to hypothetically get pregnant," she mumbled, itching her wrist. Trevor let out a heavy sigh.

"You- you can tell me anything, Violet. I'm not going to tell Jamie if you don't want me to."

"You said you were gonna drop it. Plus there's nothing to tell him. Everything is normal."

"Right, um, I'm going out. Call if you need anything for your... food poisoning."

"Will do."

When she finally heard the front door shut, she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. The tension in the kitchen had been palpable. She knew deep down that Trevor didn't believe her, but until she was showing she'd be able to hide it... maybe.

A month had passed and Violet was shocked to find that it looked like she was bloated. Violet had always been on the thinner side, but not to the point that she thought she'd be showing this early into her pregnancy. The doctors had confirmed that she was just over a month when she found out, meaning she was nearing three months. Baggy clothes became her new best friends. Unfortunately, most of the baggy clothing she owned were items she'd stolen from Jamie. This led to lots of looks from Trevor as she moved around their apartment.

Trevor now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Violet was pregnant. He'd gone into her bathroom to find some extra toilet paper and come across an array of prenatal vitamins. He didn't bring it up though. The apartment constantly had an air of awkwardness shrouding it. Violet and Trevor were tip-toeing around each other. And he knew that eventually he would have to be the bigger person and bring it up, which was uncommon for the Ducks player.

"I was talking to Jamie today," Trevor mentioned as he twirled some spaghetti onto his fork.

"Hm. How's Jamie?"

"Better. He, uh, he still asks about you."

"Good for him."

"I'm sure if you told him... about your situation, he'd be willing to help."

"What situation?" Violet smiled, taking a sip of her water.

"Can we stop pretending, Violet?"

She shook her head, pushing away from the small kitchen table.

"God! Grow up, Violet! You're going to be a mom! Start acting like a fucking adult!" Trevor shouted as she retreated to her room, that Trevor had not-so-lovingly nicknamed "the cave." Her door slammed in response, shaking the pictures hanging in the corridor.

"Hey, girl!" her best friend, Aly, smiled through the FaceTime call. "How're those vitamins? One of the moms I work with says they're the best ones!"

"Good, I think. I've got a little bump now."

"Damn! Baby Drysdale is growingggg!" she dragged out.

"Don't call them that. He- I still haven't told him."

"Girl! You told me you were going to like a week ago! What changed?"

"He- I saw him on Instagram and he looked so happy. I don't want to ruin that."

"So... you're just gonna wallow in self-pity until your baby is born? What about when he sees you with a baby? Isn't he gonna be suspicious?"

"He already accused me of cheating. So..."

"Violet! No! We are not claiming you cheated and got pregnant from another man."

"Jamie's not ready to be a dad."

"Who told you that? Jamie?"

"No."

"Exactly. You don't know that!"

"I'll think about it, Aly. Right now, the doctor said I need to avoid too much stress. It makes my nausea worse."

"Uh huh. Lemme tell you about this date I went on!"

"Do you think Violet would be okay if I came to visit?" Jamie asked Trevor.

"Um... I mean you're coming to see me. It has nothing to do with her."

"I guess, you're right. I'll get a hotel though. I don't want to intrude on her space."

"Her space is also my space, Jamie."

"Yeah, but she's my... ex. It'd feel weird. Is she, um, seeing anyone new?"

"Violet?" Trevor choked on his water, "No. No. She's been busy with... work."

"Makes sense."

"What about you? Any new women in your life?"

"No. I just compare them all to Vi."

"When you come, maybe you can get some closure. Talk to her."

"If she lets me."

"If she lets you," Trevor smiled, continuing to help his best friend plan his trip.

Six months pregnant. Violet couldn't believe it. Her baby was the size of corn, according to Aly. It was hard to hide her ever growing bump, but Trevor's hoodies and some of Jamie's old clothes did the trick. She had no idea that Jamie was coming to visit. It was all part of Trevor's plan to get her to talk to him... and admit her pregnancy.

Trevor was buzzing as he walked Jamie up the stairs to their apartment.

"Violet did some redecorating, but it looks similar to when you left! She's still asleep, I think. She sleeps in on weekends."

"Not surprising," Jamie bit back his smile.

"Welcome back, bud!" Trevor swung open the door, leading his ex-teammate into his home. Jamie looked around, it was similar to when he left. A few pictures had been taken down and replaced with new ones, but it looked pretty much the same.

"Trev? Why are you shouting?" Violet questioned sleepily, rubbing a hand on her stomach. The baby had recently discovered how to kick and it was their new favourite hobby.

"Look who I brought home with me!" Trevor beamed.

"Jamie?" the girl suddenly looked much more awake, dropping her hands to her side.

"You... you're pregnant," was all Jamie could manage, staring directly at her stomach.

"Surprise?"

The group sat in the living room. Well, Trevor and Violet were sitting. Jamie was pacing around the room, running his hands through his hair.

"You're gonna go bald, Jimmy. Stop."

"She- you're pregnant?!"

"Yes. We established that, Jamie," Violet rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. Is it... is it mine?"

"Um..."

"Yes, the baby is yours, Jamie! Are you dumb?" Trevor furrowed his brow.

"You didn't tell me?! Neither of you?!"

"She... It wasn't my place."

"Yeah? What about you, Violet? What's your excuse?!"

"I- I didn't want to ruin your career."

"Ruin my career? No! You were just being selfish. Don't pretend this had anything to do with protecting me!" Jamie exclaimed.

"Jamie, can you sit down? You're stressing me out," she sighed, rubbing over where the baby was kicking repeatedly, sensing its mother's turmoil.

"Violet! We... we're having a baby."

"I'm having a baby."

God, she was just as stubborn as before.

"Z, can we have a minute?"

"Oh, sure," Trevor left and Jamie didn't speak until he heard the door close.

"Violet, this is serious. Why would you keep this from me? Is this why you ended things?" he asked, kneeling in front of her.

"Sort of. I panicked. I just, I don't want you to feel forced to stay because of us," she motioned to her belly.

"I... I still love you. A lot. God, I never stopped loving you."

"Jamie..."

"You... you can come live in Philly! We can fix us. And raise our baby. Be a happy family."

"I want to stay here."

"You... you can't keep my baby from me, Violet. Please," his eyes started to water, "Not any longer than you already have."

"He-"

"He? It's a boy?"

"Shit. Yeah."

"I'm going to have a son?" he smiled, the tears finally falling. Violet could feel her hormones acting up, her eyes also welling with tears.

"Henry."

"Hm?"

"I- I've been planning on naming him Henry."

"Henry. It's perfect, Vi. Can I?" he gestured to the swell of her stomach. She nodded, letting out a sob as his hands met the cotton of her shirt.

"Hi, Henry. It's your dad. I'm sorry I haven't been here. I- I don't blame Mommy. She did what she thought was best."

Violet continued to sob. Why was he being so sweet to her? She'd kept his son from him!

"Violet, can you just think about it? Please. Us and Henry in Philly."

"I can think about it, Jams," she cried, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Are you sure you built that right?" Violet asked for the fourth time, "I don't want him falling on the ground in the middle of the night."

"I followed the instructions, Vi. It's secure. He'll be fine."

"Are you sure? I just-"

Jamie cut her off with a kiss to her lips.

"I'm positive, love. Now stop worrying. Poor Henry is going to pop out early if you keep that up."

"I'd appreciate it if he did. He's been sitting on my bladder all day."

Jamie kneeled down in front of her, placing a hand where he saw the imprint of a foot kick.

"Can you move off Mommy's bladder? It makes her pissy. And Daddy doesn't want to deal with it right now."

"He's not listening. I need to pee," she waddled out of the nursery and into the ensuite. Jamie laughed, following her into their bedroom.

"You look good pregnant," Jamie commented as she emerged from the bathroom.

"Shut up. We're not having sex until this monster is out of me."

"He's not a monster!"

"He's giant! I can't breathe."

"Here," Jamie walked behind her, lifting up her stomach. She let out a long sigh of relief, the pressure being alleviated from her back.

"Thanks, Jams. I love you."

"I love you too," he smiled. Although they weren't the most stable couple on the planet, Jamie was just glad to have his girl back. And now he had his little boy too. He felt complete. And so did Violet. Complete and happy with their soon-to-be family of three.

[txtmetonight]

I know I love you ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ when a moment of realization flashes–and they know that they love you to the fullest of their heart

pairing *. * Ot5 TXT x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, slight angst in hyuka's

warnings *. Insecurities in hyuka's, bad grammar (semi-checked)

call duration⋆ ★ 2.6k

a/n*. * This was so fun to write lololol. also idk if anyone has actually noticed, but i'm slowly changing my format hehehe

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet

Yeonjun’s eyes seem to blur, but he supposes that's because the practice room he currently resides in is starting to get to him, like he's hearing voices. The mirror in front of him is dusty, and it's quite a sad sight when he looks at himself—hair disheveled and messy, with his cheeks bitten red like a tomato. It's past midnight, and he knows he should be home, but he can’t find the heart to get up and leave.

The dance isn’t perfect, not to his liking, and it kills him inside as his feet get sloppy and arms start to flail in a nonsensical manner. His legs ache with strenuous pain, but he gets up one more time. Just once more, he promises himself.

Yeonjun knows very well that his words mean nothing but a lie. It’s a never-ending loop that he can’t free himself from. He forces himself up, and his fingers flinch to turn on the speaker. He's hovering over the button, but he can’t seem to move it away.

The clock reads 12:34 when he gets a shrill ring—it scares him half to death. Yeonjun stalks over to his phone and picks it up with a slight interest. It’s you, he realizes, and he doesn’t waste a moment's second to pick up the call.

“Choi Yeonjun, where are you?!”

He chuckles into the receiver. You're amusing, and his eyes crinkle. “Still at practice…” Yeonjun could almost see your grimace on the other side.

You sigh, “Are…are any of the boys with you? Or are you overworking yourself again?”

Choi Yeonjun looks at the empty practice room. He wonders if he should just fib, but for some reason, you've always been good at spotting his lies. You call it your girlfriend instincts; Yeonjun thinks it's pure bullshit. “

The latter,” he finally responds.

You go silent on the call at his words, and he pulls back his phone to make sure the line hasn't cut. It didn’t, so he just stares at your contact photo with a smile. You’re very pretty. But your next blabber is definitely not.

“Choi fucking Yeonjun! You better get your ass back home before I leave you to the streets! Do you hear me?! I am not letting you pass out again! By the time it turns one, you better be here, or I’m stuffing you into our next meal.”

This time you actually cut the call. Yeonjun knows the meaning of your threats and isn’t one to test them, so he hurriedly packs his duffel bag before he locks the door. And as he does, he knows that he’s so unequivocally in love with you—it hurts in a good way.

Choi Yeonjun realizes two things that night. First, you’re entirely scary in your way. And second, he wants to spend the rest of his lifetime and many more lives beyond that with you.

"You’re nowhere in sight. It’s quite unusual – really. Normally, you'd be situated on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book, but for some reason, you aren’t there. Soobin carefully shuts the door and quickly comes to the conclusion of your disappearance; you’ve gone to sleep.

Honestly, he doesn’t blame you. He came home a little late from vocal practice and was tired himself. All he longs to do is cuddle up to your side, preferably forever. Yet he knew from his upcoming schedules that it was going to be a while before he gets his proper break with you.

Still, he smiles at the thought of it. He lets his feet round the corner to the kitchen where he grabs a quick drink of water before making his way to your shared bedroom. Soobin’s arms feel heavy, and his throat is scratchy from all the singing exercises earlier today. All he craves are the warm blankets, but he’s abruptly stopped in his daydreaming about sleep as his hand grasps the doorknob.

“The audacity of this girl!”

You’re not sleeping as he thought you were. And you’re cursing someone out – how interesting. Slowly as ever, Soobin opens the door to find you on your stomach with a computer right in your face, aggressively typing something on the keyboard. Your eyes are so focused on the screen that you don’t notice your boyfriend enter the room!

Taking advantage of your obliviousness, Soobin carefully toes his way to where you lie, just peeking over to see what got you in a twist.

Surprisingly enough, you’re writing a document-sized paragraph on Twitter. It’s filled with cruel words and language that he’s sure don’t comply with the app’s guidelines. He’s now filled with even more wonder.

“Hey honey… what are you doing?” he asks. You jump in your bed, accidentally smashing a couple of keys. Your eyes widen, and you punch a laughing Soobin. “What the hell! How long have you been there?”

He shrugs and takes off his jacket. “Long enough to question who you were bullying.”

You suddenly grow pink. “No… one?”

“Really?” Both of you know that he doesn’t buy the lie you try to feed him. So, you exhale in defeat and timidly stare at your fingers drumming against the computer pad. “Well, I dunno. Some girl was sending a hate train towards you, and I was just defending… your… name. I guess.” You grow quiet at the end, but it was loud enough for the boy to hear.

The silence in the air is loud, but before you could bury yourself in embarrassment in a heap of pillows nearby, Soobin bends to place a kiss on your cheek. He feels like he’s about to pass out, and as his stomach churns with its rollercoaster of emotions, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming feeling of love for you.

It expands in his heart and into his touch as he kisses you again – this time on your lips. He doesn’t know why, but his breathing starts to stutter when you kiss him once more, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt this time.

He relishes the warm feeling before his fingers slide to where your keyboard was pushed to the side. He presses post, and your giddy grin is all it takes for him to kiss your lips again, his hands cupping your face. Choi Soobin thinks that he’s stuck in a pool of undying love – but he’d rather drown than live if his heart wasn’t for you to kiss."

The house is quiet. Except for the quiet chatter of the TV and the slight hums of your voice, as you thread through Beomgyu’s hair.

It's gentle when your fingers softly scratch his scalp, and he feels himself falling into a state of relaxation, his heart thrumming vividly in his chest. Your legs swing next to him where he sits on the ground, playfully poking at his thighs in a comical tease, and you place loving kisses on his head, so tiny and feather-like that he must strain to feel them.

Yet, it makes him feel full and content, so much so that he's undoubtedly about to burst. Soon enough, a scene on the drama you two have been binging—filled with emotions—suddenly causes you to pause the show with a slight furrow in your brow. He looks at you curiously but knows exactly what you're going to say.

And he couldn’t be happier to indulge.

“Oh, that’s so stupid! Who in—what?!” you complain to him. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything but giggles at you. You’re entirely entertaining and quite endearing. As you rant and rant, Beomgyu notices that the strain in his jaw from earlier in the day—which he quickly attributes to being the loud one in the group, the mood maker—was slowly lessening. He could finally smile properly without such a painful toothache. So, he grins at you. You grin back, and it sends butterflies coursing down his throat.

Beomgyu also realizes that he hasn’t spoken once this evening. Yet he hangs onto every word you say, every little movement, every little quirk, and comes to the realization that you don’t expect him to chatter. You really don’t. And that’s what he supposes he really loves about you; that your words make up for his in the silence of times, and you don’t wait for him to do the same, for you know that he cannot.

Choi Beomgyu is a silent motor who dwells in the words of your love, where he will reside forever on.

Taehyun can’t help but glance at his phone, and it’s becoming increasingly frequent as time passes by. He tries not to let it interfere with his dance practice, but he really couldn’t help it. It’s like a magnet, drawing him in.

His friends notice, but they don’t say anything at first; they merely observe his odd behavior. But soon enough, their silence couldn’t be held anymore. Soobin breaks first.

“Is there something wrong with your phone?” he asks, pointing at the device that sits in a chair, right near where Taehyun has wiggled himself too. The boy in question perks up, his eyes flitting around the room, landing on each member before he turns back to Soobin.

“No,” he responds. Beomgyu scoffs at his obvious lying and points his arm at Taehyun’s phone. “Then why do you—” He then turns two fingers around and prods just in front of his eyes. “Keep looking at your phone!”

No one but Kai notices the tinge of red that flourishes on Taehyun’s ears, but his bashfulness could definitely be detected from the flustered smile that he delivers. “I don’t know what you guys mean.” Sure, he does. He was actually waiting for your daily afternoon text that you have yet to send.

Taehyun’s eyebrows furrow before he picks up his phone and scrolls onto your contact. The others sigh at his expense and leave him alone—most have an inkling about his unwarranted distraction, but Taehyun pays no mind to them. He’s on a very important mission.

Swift fingers dance across his keyboard before he shoots a very quick message. Taehyun’s very concerned by your lack of presence today, and his words are direct enough to show it.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Seconds later, several bubble pop up onto his screen. They seem to have a staring contest with Taehyun.

"Yeah. Open the door of your practice room. Kinda have my hands full :))"

The boy doesn’t hesitate to jog to the other end of the room and swing open the said door, to where, behold, you stand, with a great big smile and five plastic bags in hand. The sudden smell of food wafts through the area; and Taehyun doesn’t realize how hungry he really is.

You can tell too; you’d always had him figured out, however far you were from the love of your life. But he can’t stop staring at you until the boys come through and push him away. He guesses that they’ve smelled it too.

“Surprise! I figured that you guys could all take a break and eat lunch.” You press a chaste kiss to Taehyun’s cheek and push past him to put all of the stuff down. The other four boys rampage over to their own bags, screaming their thanks.

You just chuckle, but it slowly diminishes into a sweet smile when you find Taehyun still by the door. His eyes glow when they meet yours, and you gesture to sit next to you. “I love you,” he mouths. He decides that the way your cheeks puff and get red, or the way your lips curl, is what he wants to see in heaven. Or perhaps he’s already there.

It’s the small things, he supposes. The way you care. Like when you pour Beomgyu a drink and give Taehyun and Yeonjun your own food, insisting that you were going to shove it down their throats if they didn’t take it. Or when you ruffle Hyuka’s hair and adjust Soobin’s collar.

Later that day, Yeonjun carries thoughts. Thoughts that he whispers to Taehyun with a jolly grin after you leave on your merry way. “You better not lose her. I’ll kick you off the group if you do.”

Kang Taehyun has never believed in soulmates until you came along and stole his heart.

It’s another one of those days. Where light usually shone, it was covered in bleak clouds, ones that Kai couldn’t escape from however hard he tried. He’s stuck in forever darkness that seems to consume him whole, eating away at his heart.

The pain is unbearable; it brings forth a few tears from his eyes. They feel like acid against his skin, and he wishes to be free from the pain of his insecurities. His hair flops in front of him, and one could assume that he uses it like a mask, hiding himself away until only a shell remains.

Kai doesn’t like looking in the mirror – he has known that from the moment such dark weather clouded his sight. And so, his reflection is slashed, covered in blood he has never asked for. It’s quite horrible when it's about himself. Then it gets worse when it extends to his bandmates – his platonic soulmates.

And finally, when his wobbly thoughts traverse your way, his stomach aches, and his heart falls apart into puzzle pieces that cannot fit. He greatly wonders how you can even put up with him and his miserable attire. Kai thinks that he’s tired of himself – but why aren’t you? As a solution to his problems, he has holed himself in his room, but you have a different answer to his questions.

You give three swift knocks on the door, each loud and firm, before you unlock the door and enter. Kai doesn’t dare to look you in the eye, but he feels your glowing stare on him. He doesn’t know what to do but weakly rejects your advance.

“Just… just leave me alone,” he says.

You don’t respond. He tries again. “(Y/n), seriously! Please!”

This time, your strides stop. And nothing more. Kai questions if you’ve melted to the ground, but alas, you have not when you sigh and exclaim.

“I would, but our son misses you!” Pause. What? Kai shoots his head up, in a query that shoots confusion down his spine. Yet he feels that tinge of a chuckle in the back of his throat. How do you do that to him so easily? When he stares up at you, your hands are behind your back, and you’re pouting. He decides to ask his question.

“What are you talking about…?”

You grin at him and swing your arms forward to reveal a tiny penguin plushie. “Our son, of course! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about him?!” Kai shakes his head. “No, of course not.”

This 'son' of his was actually a prize that was won from an arcade game. You’ve officially adopted him ever since. “Well… he told me that he really misses you.”

You take a step forward and lean down towards him. Your eyes observe his face, and they take in the expanse of his beauty. He wishes to cower away, but you don’t let him as you take your son’s tiny flappy fins and put it on your boyfriend’s face.

“We hate seeing you cry, my pretty boy,” you say as you wipe away his tears with the soft fabric. They soothe his burns. At last, you put the plushie away next to him and lean a little closer, just where his heartbeat resides on his neck. It beats with yours.

“I love you.” You kiss his heart.

Huening Kai thinks that you’ve just mended his puzzle-piece heart into such a beautiful picture of his irrevocable love for you – bigger and more stunning than any masterpiece created on this cruel earth. And you deserve much more.

[harmonysanreads]

I'm not sure if requests are still open since it's early in the morning where I'm from and idk how our timezones work, please delete this if it isn't orz. If it isn't too much trouble, a dainsleif fic mayhaps 🙏😔? I miss him so much and he didn't come home this patch, can be a short drabble ^^.

Not sure if it's leaning on your "things in consideration" list, but the prompt can be:

You've been under his radar for years but now that he's tracked you down, an unknown child who mirrors his blue Khaenriahn eyes guards you with his small and very fragile life. Those eyes... They're eerily familiar.

(side note: Dain isn't the type who thinks children automatically have a heart of gold lolol. He's kinda a hater when it comes to children cept for Yaoyao /jjjj, maybe that's some extra spice to add for the reason why reader is so terrified and left as soon as she had the opportunity?)

Reconteur

yandere!dainsleif x reader

cw(s) : yandere, implied female reader (the narrative is not gender specific but the word 'mother' has been used once)

wc : 1.7 k

this was an interesting challenge for me because this is one theme i've not done before, with a character i've also never written for! i'm extremely sorry for the wait as i got distracted by hsr :') and thank you so much for requesting<3

a delightful illustration by the loveliest person <3 (spoiler alert!)

Stories are truly spectacular.

They're capable of preserving bygone memories ; changing, adapting and sometimes, becoming far too distant from reality. Like saplings of the tree which extends its roots throughout Teyvat and, their seeds are welcomed by the flighty wind, soon to be cultivated by the torrents of time. The present will one day become history and that history will be archived for posterity to learn and criticize. One such story inspires much intrigue, dressed in charming rhetoric and is thus cataloged among fairy tales : a bittersweet tale of a Knight and an Angel.

And in classic format it goes — once upon a time, a defiled Knight cried out to the heavens, for he could not win against the temptation of seeing the forbidden pearl. This blatant defiance earned him but a curse of eternal agony and soon, he begged the skies for salvation. The clouds softened and sent him a little Angel, who quelled the fires of his pain bit by bit, until it became an infinitesimal dot in the Knight's soul. Brimming with gratitude, the Knight offered his very being to the Angel's service and of course, they lived happily ever after.

Now suppose, fundamentally speaking, if fairy tales are but stories and the retelling of history follows the same pattern — who are the storytellers?

The victors, of course.

The dull thud of pages colliding shut assuages Dainsleif, for the story which now finds itself beside children's bedside tables serves no other purpose than to instigate dulcet fantasies, losing credence before the trials of history. It brews a litany of feelings in his numbed heart until they intertwine and transform into a yarn of befuddling human emotions ; echoing in his ears that this is what his past has become.

Albeit, this hardly astonishes the Bough Keeper. When a war ends and the winners hoist their flags, they'd obviously be privy to recounting their glories — none of them would ever write that the Knight in the story had never begged the heavens for forgiveness and no such Angel was sent. Instead, he'd seen fit to snatch the Messenger that'd implored him to return to his right mind and one would think that Celestia had taken great offense in this act, but no one batted an eye.

That is because the Messenger, too, was forsaken by their home, a fallen angel with no wings and no divinity left. Whose existence became synonymous to that of a firefly and the Knight, became the darkness that allowed it to glow. When two broken individuals unite, they either complete their flaws or destroy one another and sadly, in his case, it was the latter.

But is it such a sin to wish for a normal life? Dainsleif muses as he passes by giggling groups of unassuming humans, desperate vendors trying to sell their wares and many more individuals who might carve their places in the next epics of Teyvat. Often is it said, you only learn to value things after they leave your grasp and while his memory does erode day by day, he'll forever remember that Angel's — your countenance, how the corners of your lips used to curve before they did no longer, how every word of yours bewitched his decaying mind and built it anew.

He was an ant chasing after the fragrance of sugar, a mindless bug blinded by a speck of light, an apophyte clinging desperately to the bough, a sinner. And sinners do not deserve luxuries called normalcy, love or a home. The aftereffects of the Cataclysm that befell his homeland drove uncountable masses to nihility, some embraced their hatred while others rotted in corners of this world. It is testament to Dainsleif's willpower that he'd not been conquered by insanity yet. Indeed, he's always practiced rationale and patience ; which have also aided him in his prolonged search for you.

He investigated till every rock of this wretched world became his acquaintance and he kept on hanging to the last traces of your existence. But, as every expedition led to a dead end, he was forced to accept a lamentable realization, that he missed you. He missed you so much. He'd vowed to never kneel before those who took everything from him, at this point in his life though, he found himself one breath away from begging that floating island — if only it'd bring you back to his side.

Rain. It'd rained before that catastrophic day and on the eve you trespassed in his life as well. Would you laugh if you saw him in this state? Or, would you coax him up from his knees and shield him from the rain? A hoarse chuckle leaves his lips, how shameless does one need to be to still expect comfort from the being they hurt repeatedly? He'd rather not hear the answer.

“Mister?”

The sky growled at his misery but he could not differentiate it from a mocking sneer. He blinked upon feeling the absence of raindrops falling on his person and raised his head to stare.

It is as though the stars gazed at him back, “Why are you kneeling on the ground on a rainy day, mister?”

Dainsleif stared owlishly, his mind momentarily ceased to comprehend the present. The boy that'd reach his knees at most if Dainsleif had been standing returned his gaze in equal interest. Though the man failed to decipher those familiar eyes, it seemed that the boy had reached a conclusion.

“Oh, you must be in pain! Here, take one of my apples.”

The Bough Keeper jolted at the fruit that was shoved to his hand, in the blur of his confusion he'd not taken note of the bag full of apples clutched by the boy's other hand.

“My mother said that an apple a day would keep the pain away—ah, or was it the doctor? Anyway, please take it and don't look so sad. I should really be returning now…!”

Dainsleif opened his mouth (To protest, to question or to thank? He didn't know.) as the boy dashed away, the pitter-patters of the rain lulled his footsteps and left the man a great deal dumbfounded. He looked at the apple, now glistening with rainwater and recalled the boy's words. On normal occasions, he'd be tempted to immediately evacuate the vicinity after that mildly embarrassing encounter but, the memory of the starry gaze that rendered him speechless implored him to follow the boy's tracks.

At this point, his mind was operating on instinct, tracing the footprints of an unknown child without purpose would be the farthest thing he'd put on his agenda in his current state. The dense forest swallowed his form until it finally gifted him with a clearing, a small source of light peeked past a half open window and enticed him closer.

“...re…were…y…?”

The man only came to his senses after hearing muffled voices, standing before what he assumed was the door to the thatched cottage. For a second, he debated whether to continue this rendezvous but resigning that he'd come too far, he decided to take a peek through the window.

The rain lulled just enough to not be an outright nuisance, succinct yet unforgettable — there you were, separated by but a weak wooden structure and Dainsleif's stupefied mind. You are there. Are you really there? Right before his eyes, emerging out of nowhere after he turned Teyvat upside down just to find some reassurance that you're still alive? Your eyes narrowed in that familiar frown and rubbing a towel through a boy's hair—

Wait, what?

Fine strands of blonde clung to Dainsleif's forehead, a few drops of water dripping down to join the small puddle under his feet. He gaped like a fish at the scene and at the boy who led him to this epiphany, completely forgetting vigilance.

“Did you talk to anyone, son?”

Flowers bloomed in his heart at the sound of that familiar lilt and his breath hitched as he processed the contents you uttered. Son. You called that boy son. In the light of your humble abode, he noticed the boy's golden locks of hair that he'd previously foregone and a conclusion crawled its way to his mind. He has a child. He has a child? Dainsleif knew you have a knack for unpredictability but this level of surprise was not what he was expecting upon your first appearance after all these years. He dwelled on the question of how it was even possible for a while, he recalled the boy's eyes ; those characteristic star-shaped pupils would never lie. Voices reached his ear again and he decided to cast aside these questions for a later time.

“I did, but the man looked so sad all alone in the rain! So, I gave him one of the apples because I didn't know what else to do. I promise I didn't talk too much!”

You paused for a while, a cautious query followed, “What did he look like?”

The boy copied your silence this time, finding great interest in your nails before exclaiming, “Pretty ordinary!”

Dainsleif didn't know why but that gave a sting to his heart, he looked back to you to see the unreadable expression on your face slowly shift to a soft smile. You affectionately ruffled the boy—his boy's hair, the action somehow softened the ache in his soul. Until he remembered that he was ignorant of his own son's name. He was one who preferred to form his opinion of everyone from a neutral point of view and while he's not one to excuse children's behavior just because of their age, seeing his own son speak half-truths at this stage raised many more concerns to be dropped in the pile.

You're not someone who'd preach dishonesty to a child but considering the situation you are currently in and the things this child must've seen, he found himself understanding. The skies rumbled and Dainsleif barely pushed back the urge to kick down the door and take his family to where they belonged. But seeing the smile that he'd yearned for so many years, he hesitated. You'd fought hard to earn this little happiness and acting on his impulses now, however justified they might be, would be dishonoring your efforts. And judging by your reactions, he can already sense that you won't just sit idly by for him to pounce on.

So, he'll be patient for bit longer and when the time is right, it'll seem as though his family returned to his arms out of their own volition.

[ethereange]

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

reluctance sparks something genuine; satoru is threatened to be kicked off his team, so he turns to you.

contains: college!au, satoru gojo x reader, satoru is like a popular jock, reader kinda dates around, college is american-based, but theres some japanese social influence, satoru plays basketball bc yes, texting (but not like a normal smau format idk ull see)

wc - 1.4k

part 1 // part 2 // part 3?

"i've done all i can do for you, but there are no exceptions. not even you, gojo."

satoru leaned back into the cushions of his chair, relaxing his arms as they folded comfortably across his chest. his stare never once broke from the eyes behind rectangular sunglasses. if anyone walked into the office, they would think he was oddly casual despite his situation.

and that would be the truth. the golden plaque gleaming on the wall from last year’s championship spoke for his contributions. satoru was not one to be intimidated when he knew his worth. he knew he was the exception.

"you're aware that you should've been on suspension from any games and practices up until now?"

"yeah? why was i not, yaga?" satoru quizzed back.

"coach yaga," he corrected. "because i've been doing all i can to keep your ass on the court. just because you can ball doesn’t mean you always deserve to. if your grade drops any lower, you're done."

that was a new one.

regardless of the past four times satoru was called into this very room with the same threat of "raise your grades or else", he hasn't toed this close to the line yet.

"whadd'ya mean i'm done? they're not just gonna-"

yaga sighed. "you'll be kicked off the team, and your scholarship will be revoked."

satoru stood up straight.

"as of now, you'll be on suspension. no training, games, nothing," coach stated. "you can..."

"...only help yourself now, is what he said," satoru scoffed. he was currently splayed across his shared couch, half-empty soda can in hand as he ran down the whole situation. "what the hell'm i supposed to do?"

"maybe you should look for a tutor again," shoko suggested, perched on the windowsill as she let her cigarette smoke flow out.

satoru sighed dramatically. "i'm not gonna pay some random. last time i tried they treated it like a date and never even looked at my books." he grimaced at the memory.

"do you even know anyone smart?" suguru poked, earning an eye roll from the other.

"of course i do," he replied, "a bunch of our teammates can handle themselves. they're just… busy with the practices i should be going to. is there any chance you guys could help at all?"

suguru and shoko shared a look. "honestly, i'm not much better off than you are. i still have training, and even though yaga’s not on my ass as much as yours, i’m not sure if i’ll be much help."

satoru turned to the brunette with a pleading expression- to which she let out a short, airy laugh. “you should know i cheated on almost all my exams. plus they’re mostly for pre-med.”

he deflated, lip jutting out in a pout as he stared dejectedly at the ceiling. he wracked his brain for a solution, for someone who was both smarter and had enough time to help him. but for someone as well-known as satoru, his social circle was mostly limited to his team and the other two in the room. college basketball did not leave much time for socializing.

"sorry to break it off, but i agreed to give yuji a ride to practice, and he's all the way at the dorms," suguru cut the silence as he rose to his feet.

"he doesn't have a car?" satoru queried. he would rather have his friends here to brainstorm answers to his problem.

suguru chuckled, "no, he doesn't have a license either. told me he's failed his test twice already."

satoru let out a little snort at that; he could vividly picture the freshman swerving a car recklessly. "alright, i'll let you go i guess," he responded. "you still gotta help me later, though."

"i think i'll head out, too," shoko announced, putting out the rest of her cig.

"you too?" satoru groaned.

she nodded. "i've got to meet up with my friend downtown."

"any chance they're smart? or know anyone smart? do i know them?" he questioned, a hopeful tilt in his voice.

she stared off in thought, letting out a huff before answering. "she's pretty smart. not like a nerd, but she's better than me," she paused. "her schedule's a bit... unpredictable, though. i think you've met her a couple times... probably at nobara's party."

satoru perked up. "that's good enough for me."

you sipped your drink as your phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the table. you felt your heart jump a little at the implication of the sound, picking up your device to check the notification.

but your spirits sagged a little when it was, in fact, not who you wanted it to be. instead, it was an unknown number, asking if it was you.

your eyebrows quirked, intrigued. shoko had left just previously to use the restroom, leaving you alone temporarily at the cafe table. you typed back a response.

you yes, this is her who is this?

XXX-XXX-XXXX gojo satoru

you blinked in surprise. gojo satoru? the newest basketball phenom, the one who girls and guys alike swooned over? yeah, there was no way he was texting you. you're not even sure if you've had a proper conversation with him before. maybe shoko had been gone for too long and decided to play with you.

you very funny who is this actually? and how'd you get my number?

XXX-XXX-XXXX wdym shoko gave me ur number

okay, now it was obvious. you were about to march over to the bathroom to confront your friend when she plopped down in her seat across from you.

"funny, shoko. i know it's you, though. when did you get a second number?" you asked.

she gave you a quizzical stare. "what the hell are you talking about?"

you rolled your eyes and faced your screen at her. she furrowed her eyebrows, before they relaxed as she laughed, "nope, that's satoru."

"you're joking," you gaped. "why would he text me? and why did you give him my number?" she shrugged and turned your phone back to you.

XXX-XXX-XXXX could u do me a favor

you sighed, giving shoko a last look before you replied.

you depends what it is, but try me

gojo satoru do you tutor

your fingers paused as confusion coursed your brain. shoko was indifferent, scrolling on her own cell and popping a french fry in her mouth.

you not really... i mean i'll help my friends out with studying but it's not like i get paid

gojo satoru ok perfect youll get paid

you you want me to tutor you?

gojo satoru yeah

you were boggled at his straight-forwardness. gojo was not known for being serious, about anything, really. maybe the exception was basketball, but even then...

you if you don't mind me asking why do you need a tutor? also why me specifically, i'm not the greatest student?

gojo satoru uhh id appreciate it if u didnt let it out the bag

you sure, i wont

gojo satoru ill get kicked off the team if i dont get grades up ur like the last person ik who can prob help

your confusion only grew more. how could he be doing so bad he was threatened his roster spot? and how were you the last person when he was ridiculously popular? you were certain people would help him for free, as long as they were in his proximity.

you as flattered as i am, i doubt that

gojo satoru yeah well its the truth so can u help me out

you flipped your phone around, sliding it over to shoko. "what do you think?" you sighed.

she scrolled over the texts. "i mean, he's my friend. and he's kinda on his last straw. and he usually doesn't text so bluntly. i'm not saying i'm pressuring you to say yes, but he does have money," she answered seriously. you laughed, and she continued, "it would really help him. maybe check it off with your boyfriend, first?"

your eyes fell to the glowing screen, staring at the upside-down messages. "it'll be fine. it's not like he texts me enough to care about it anyway," you admitted, slumping back in your chair. she scooted the phone back to you.

you sure, why not unfortunately i can't let the team lose their previous freshman of the year

gojo satoru thats an accomplishment btw but thank u this means a lot

you ofc, its not a huge deal to me

you sighed. not exactly how you planned this outing with shoko to end up. but maybe tutoring could help you with your own studying while you review topics with him. with gojo satoru.

gojo satoru so ru free tmrw

[island-ofthelost]

My Actual opinion on Five's sexuality

I've gotten into many a fight in my ask box about this, but I don’t think that I've ever shared my opinion in depth, so here I go *mentally prepares for war*

I do not think Five is 100%, completely aroace. For some reason, whenever I say this people take it as me saying that I think he's 100% allo, which has gotten me hate from one side and weird praise from the other for giving them "permission" to sexualize Five.

I find it hard to believe that these supposed members of the ace community (although I doubt all of them are) seem to be allergic to nuance and considering other identities when it comes to headcanoning aroace characters, it isn't all or nothing, so to speak.

That being said, I think Five is gray/demiromantic and asexual. The reason I think this is because Five clearly felt genuine romantic love for Dolores, but I don't think he would feel that way about anyone else, at least not anytime soon, and I don't think sex was ever part of it, he never wanted it to be, and the way his age/body disconnect is it would be weird in any situation, but I don't think he would be interested regardless.

I think a lot of people in the fandom like to headcanon Five as completely aroace because the thing with Dolores "was a trauma response" or "was psychological" or "wasn't really romantic love" and these have some merit because it's obviously open to interpretation, but my qualm is that I think some people don't actually believe this and just say that because the whole situation is yes, frankly, very weird. But I think either way it invalidates the feelings of this character to serve a headcanon.

But what's worse is people ignoring Dolores all together because "it's icky", and don't even bat an eye at Luther and Allison or any of the other wild things with romance going on in this show.

And if anyone thinks that I'm speaking over anybody and this should be within the ace community, I am on both the aromantic and asexual spectrums. I rarely share that on public posts because I haven't found an exact label and I am frankly not the most comfortable with it, so consider this a coming out I guess?

Idk, I hope ya'll enjoyed my yapfest/impromptu essay, and if anyone's interested in me making a longer, more in depth, and well researched essay (mayhaps in video format if I'm able), I'd be down.

(I am also praying to the tumblr gods that I will not wake up with a billion notifications having started a war)

[gomapda]

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

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

side A found here!

author's note:

oh goodness. it's been a while.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader

genre: romance, fluff

summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.

rating: 13+

length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)

tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure

inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi

inspo spotify playlist found here!

──────────────────

side b: him.

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

You knew. You fucking knew.

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

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

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

He ran.

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

But he couldn’t.

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

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

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

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

You were everywhere.

And he needed to get away.

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

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

If you asked him to stay, he would have.

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

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

──────────────────

Years later.

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

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

“I figured. I brought you some food.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I brought you food. I paid my toll.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.”

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

“...Lyrics.”

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

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

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

Jihoon grunted in response. Obviously.

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

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

“Do you still stalk her on Instagram?”

Jihoon let out a loud sigh.

“That’s a yes, then.”

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

“She hasn’t blocked you yet?”

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

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

“Wow. Thanks, hyung.”

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

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

“She attracts people, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she always has.”

“Can I see her profile again?”

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

“Ey, Jihoon-ah.”

“That makes me really not want to.”

“Ey.”

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

“Oh, is that Japan?”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon clicked on your post.

But it wasn’t opening.

So, he clicked again. And then again.

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

The once white heart was now red.

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

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

“Hyung. Hyung. What should I do?”

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

“How do you know?”

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

“...”

“Uh. I’ll just… do it for you, then.”

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

“Jihoon-ah.”

“Hyung.”

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

“...Okay.”

──────────────────

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

“Jihoonie.”

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

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

“Just thinking.”

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

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

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

“You work miracles, Y/N.”

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

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

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

Did you even know how much your words affected him?

“You’re neither selfish nor a lady.”

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

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

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

Jihoon snorted. “Of what?”

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

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

He might as well use your promise to his advantage.

──────────────────

“She didn’t block me.”

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

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

“You know. His firefly,” Jeonghan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He even ignored the boys’ laughter around him.

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

“Seungkwan-ah.”

“Sorry, Jeonghan-hyung.”

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

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

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

“WHAT DO I DO.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jihoon nodded almost mindlessly.

Everything about her usually is.

──────────────────

“Jihoonie~ Wake up~”

He groaned loudly under the bed covers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh. You might be right there.”

“Get! Off!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is a buggy better than a furry?”

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

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

“Okay! I’ll go help Mama downstairs.”

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

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

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

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

You scurried out of his room before he could respond.

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

Forget summertime.

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

But he ought to thank the summertime.

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

Yeah.

He needed the summertime.

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

The accused groaned.

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

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

“You romanticist.”

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

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

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

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

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

They all collectively raised a brow.

“Whattaya mean?” Seungcheol asked.

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

A heavy silence passed over the group.

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

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

“Hoon, you wound me.”

──────────────────

Award shows were weird.

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

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

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

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

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

He merely rolled his eyes and called you dramatic.

That is, until he experienced it firsthand.

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

Then he felt it: that driving force.

You both pushed yourselves further, to higher heights.

And it ended with him sick and bedridden.

And you, heartbroken and unsure of life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He thought back to his trainee days.

To his current days.

How similar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Award shows were weird.

It was all about performance.

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

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

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

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

It was why he’s in this industry.

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

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

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

──────────────────

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

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

“How’s the song coming along?”

“The album is nearly complete—”

“No, the solo one.”

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

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

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

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

“…that’s not true.”

“What? Which one?”

“The first song I ever wrote.”

“Oh what? What was it?”

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

“…huh. What was it about?”

──────────────────

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

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

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

That is, unless you needed him to.

And he always gave you what you needed.

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

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

“She sounds terrifying.”

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

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

He imagined you meeting them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that's when he knew.

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

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

“Here, firefly.”

You caught it by instinct.

Your gaze met his.

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

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

“Why are you giving me this?”

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

But he wouldn’t do that.

Because that would be embarrassing.

(That was a future Jihoon problem.)

“It’s your win today.”

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

“Huh?”

He swallowed thickly, his brain unable to keep up with the words tumbling from his mouth. “Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”

Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was probably much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands, unlike his.

You sniffled.

A soft smile formed on your lips.

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

Pretty.

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

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

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

(Not that you reached out.)

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

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

It’s your win?

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

You did win his heart, after all.

(He threw his pillow at the wall.)

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s more than that.”

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

“I never asked you to do that.”

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

“Okay, bro.”

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

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

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

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

“So close-minded, Hoon.”

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

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

“Thanks for the play-by-play.”

Jihoon ignored him and clicked the profile to see they had the exact same e-flyer post. But he knew that you’d probably notice there was an influx of donations (hardly anything got by you) and he didn’t want to bombard you with unsolicited help.

But it’s for a good cause!

But he might be trespassing on her territory.

Everyone cares about youth and kids!

This group home wouldn’t have even caught his eye had it not been for you.

He groaned inwardly. “I don’t know whether I should ask Bumzu to reshare or what—”

“Dude, just ask her if you can share it and then wait for her reply. It’s not like there’s only a one day donation thing.”

Jihoon blinked at Soonyoung. “You’re right.”

Soonyoung immediately sat up straighter, pulling out his own phone from his pocket. He opened up his voice memo app. “Say that again, I need to record that so I can set it as my ringtone.”

Soonyoung pressed the Record button, extended his phone receiver to Jihoon, who leaned in promptly and said:

“Fuck off, Kwon Soonyoung.”

──────────────────

“Kwon Soonyoung, what the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean? It’s not like I planned this.”

Jihoon glared at the boy before him who was somehow wearing matching clothes again. He specifically came home after rehearsal to change into something different and yet, here he was, matching with this endless energy ball. Jihoon specifically changed out of his all-black garment to choose a long, plain blue button-down overshirt and ripped, dark jeans. Something different from his usual style of a t-shirt and shorts.

Yet, there Soonyoung was, in nearly the same outfit, minus the overshirt being a blue flannel.

“I think this just means that we’re soulmates, Jihoon-ah.”

Jihoon pulled back his fist as if to hit Soonyoung, but the latter didn’t flinch at all, only laughed at the expense of his friend. The other members were downstairs waiting for them so Jihoon didn’t have enough time to change out of the outfit. And it felt almost ridiculous to give this more attention than it deserves, as if he was losing by admitting that it bothered him to the point of needing to change clothes.

But Kwon Soonyoung, the man that he was, would not let him live it down.

“Wow, we look like a couple. We should go on dates, huh? Get some sushi or–ack!”

The shorter of the two pressed his foot against the back of the other’s knee and Soonyoung nearly came crashing down had it not been for his instincts to catch himself.

Jihoon huffed down the stairs, shaking his head at the situation and readying himself to be made fun of by his members. Once he got through that door, it was game over.

And he was right.

Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Dino were the ones who rallied the rest of the group to heckle, which only added insult to injury, as those three were the ones who had the longest rap sheet to make fun of. Jihoon kept his disgusted face on as Soonyoung wrapped his arms around his shoulders, announcing to (what seemed like) the world about how he’s ‘matching with his best friend.’

Jihoon came back with a slew of half-hearted insults at the rest of his members, but they unfortunately outnumbered him. He is rarely on the receiving end of this level of teasing, but he was dragged into it thanks to Soonyoung, who was eating it up.

Even in the midst of it all, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel thankful that he even had someone to accidentally match with who would wear it with such pride and not shy away from it. Sure, it might seem dumb and annoying, but it reminded him that he could have that kind of playful relationship with others outside of you. He had other friends in school or at baseball, sure, but none were as comfortable, as relentlessly fun. He thought there would never be another you.

And there never was, but that feeling of acceptance, of joy, of gratitude.

He was able to find it outside of you.

Which was a heartbreaking realization before, but now he only hopes you’ve done the same.

And mere hours after his own outfit debacle, Jihoon sees your instagram story to find you accidentally matching with Hyejin, her making the same face that he did not too long ago. But you had a shit-eating grin, no doubt proud of causing a disruption in your friend’s life.

Your caption read: “oh, you and your soulmate are tied by a single, red thread? that’s nothing compared to the matching threads we got on right now. eat your heart out, makoto shinkai.”

Beneath it in smaller letters: “if you can’t tell by her face, this was not planned at all, but man, am i really rolling with it.”

Jihoon snorted at the serendipity of it all.

Perhaps the string of fate really isn’t just a single thread.

──────────────────

It was a rare day in which Jihoon found himself at home.

Which meant he had a lot of time to think about you.

(You replied to him. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. But he was, pleasantly so. Of course, it included a thumbs up emoji which was the visual manifestation of the acquaintance zone, but he would take what he could get.)

Album preparations were underway, and although there is a part of him that feels as though he should be scrambling, especially as their anniversary date was literally tomorrow, he thought back to a voice from his youth.

Years ago, he laid in his childhood bed, struck with a nasty fever from pushing his immune system too far by attempting to balance school and various music competitions. There was a half-asleep you, exhausted by misplaced guilt, with your fingers intertwined with his, who said: Jihoonie, Koreans always say ‘fighting’. I told you that this morning, and I knew you weren’t feeling well. I could’ve stopped you. And now here you are. I said ‘fighting,’ but why? Why do we have to fight? Life isn’t a battle to win. You don’t have to overcome anything, okay? You can just lay here and be with me. Please don’t get sick again. Please remember to rest. Some days, it’s okay to just be.

So, here he was. Simply being.

Whenever massive events (like SEVENTEEN’s six year anniversary) happened, he made sure to spend the 24 hours prior doing nothing than just being, to gain enough energy to last the following day.

Otherwise, the nagging guilt would get to him.

You were always weaving stories with even the thinnest of threads. Your knack for adding dramatic flair, amping it up to eleven, was a nightmare sometimes. For example, when he got sick and you kept repeating that you should’ve said something instead of letting him go on stage only to nearly faint afterwards. You took on too much responsibility for things outside of your control, which only caused you to lose your grip on what you actually could.

His chest tightened at the thought of you losing your grip completely. There were very few things in life that terrified him, but you potentially ending yours was one that plagued him until he learned how to remain steady when you were feeling unsure, and even still, it tore him up inside. But he knew that it wasn’t his battle to face; he wasn’t meant to save you. You reminded him of that time and time again, so instead, he learned how to let you live the life you weren’t sure you wanted. He observed warily.

As a teenager, he knew just how bad these thoughts could get for people at that age. He knew how people fell prey to the lies that they were unworthy of life and love.

So, he simply tried to be as honest as possible. He would do his best to not invalidate your experience, but he refused to enable those insidious feelings. He would come off as abrasive, he was sure, but your ability to detect bullshit was like no other. Your parents had a big hand in that. So, instead, he was truthful in his own way, in his own language, one that you learned to understand.

A few years ago, you did a two-part YouTube podcast at Yale. The first one was released a couple of months prior to the second, and he’s sure at least one hundred of the views are from SEVENTEEN (not all him, his members also took away a lot from your words).

He listened to that podcast time and time again. He heard the life in your voice, the curiosity of the future outweighing the pain of the past. You said that life was, at first, a means to be with the people you loved. But you slowly came to believe that life was something that you would choose to love every single day, and so you did.

He hoped that you still did, but trusted that, if there were days that would come where you did not, you would reach out to someone to wait with you until the storm passed and you could choose to love again.

His chest filled with pride thinking about how far you’ve come.

But he couldn’t help but wish there were some things that remained from back then.

That glimmer of hope spurred him to become mindful of the object he was fiddling with in his hands. He held up a bracelet of years ago, hardly worn by time or by him. He wasn’t sure whether he was still allowed to. It was one-half of a pair, but if its partner no longer existed, then.

However, he never had the desire to throw it away.

The metal charms felt both foreign and at home in his hands as he fiddled with them, the faint clicking sound of the chain barely registering as his mind was in an entirely different place. His eyes focused once again on the charm of the sun caught between his fingers.

If only catching you was as simple, he mused.

Jihoon sighed and covered his eyes, desperately trying not to cringe at his internal monologue, habitually reaching for the Chopper plushie that you gifted him years ago, squeezing the body to diffuse the embarrassment he felt.

He remembered when he saw the charms at some random shop he heard about from others and thought you would enjoy, so he decided to scope it out in advance for the two of you. It was easy, on his way home after spending a few hours on his own to rehearse his clarinet, a regular occurrence.

Although there was no doubt the two of you gravitated towards each other, you both valued your independence and alone time.

──────────────────

“We’re giving us the chance to miss each other, Jihoonie.”

“Who said I’d ever miss you?”

“Well, gosh darn. Guess I’ll cover for you and miss you twice as much.”

“…You’re dumb.”

“Yes. Can I have some of your fries?”

──────────────────

He retaliated by taking the ketchup bottle and squeezing them all over the tray of fries and you immediately retracted, believing that fries should be dipped in its respective sauce (unless they were loaded fries, of course, which warranted using a utensil of sorts).

He chuckled to himself. Fifteen was one of the most turbulent years of his life, but there were plenty of moments (like fries drowning in ketchup) that reminded him it wasn’t all intense.

Your fifteenth year started off with that charm bracelet.

Two weeks before then, you were so moody that he nearly gave you your birthday gift earlier than he intended, just so he wouldn’t have to see you be so upset (for which, he has only a vague remembrance of what could have made you so upset). Of course, it might have been easier if he had simply brought up his concern and asked how you were, but he knew you would have brushed it off as nothing.

He paused.

Did he know that though?

Or did he just assume?

He clicked his tongue, annoyed at his own self-reflection.

Communication was easy in theory.

Application, however.

He often found it difficult, matching your pace.

You were always so quick.

Quick-witted. 

Quick to anger.

Quick to assume.

Quick to run away.

He heard a soft knock at his bedroom door (which meant it wasn’t Mingyu or Soonyoung) and he grunted in response. The door slowly opened (that ruled out Seungcheol and Chan) and revealed who decided to greet him in such a manner.

Ah, he was right.

“Woozingi~”

“Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Jeonghan moved to sit at the edge of Jihoon’s bed, with his legs crossed. “The members are wanting to get dinner tonight altogether since we have a schedule tomorrow. The staff said they’ll pay since it’s our six years.”

This had Jihoon propping himself upright. “Barbecue?”

Jeonghan snickered. “Yeah, it’ll be good to get ready in a few hours. But I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person since I know you like to mute the group chat.”

“That’s because it’s constantly going off,” Jihoon grumbled.

“Yes, that happens when people are trying to have a conversation, Jihoon-ah. You should try it sometimes. Especially since it sounds like you have communication issues.”

Jihoon winced. “Hyung. Your timing is terrible.”

“No, it’s impeccable. Just not for you. Anyway, a word of advice.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t have to fear rejection anymore,” Jeonghan started, slowly, the words seeming almost foreign in his mouth. “Regardless of what happens with her, you have people in your life that care about you as you are. You don’t have to try and match her. I don’t want you to subconsciously fall back into a habit of appeasing her because you’re afraid of scaring her away again.”

Jihoon blinked slowly. “I wasn’t expecting actual advice, so I’m a little stunned right now.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “I’m gonna be honest. The other members told me to come talk to you because the rest are either too scared or don’t know what to say.”

“Hah, we’re back to our trainee days, huh?”

Jeonghan grinned, probably recalling the amount of times that he was the emotional support pillar of the boys before they each learned to open up to each other. “Speaking of, I remember when I first met you. You were a teen with a cold-hearted exterior and a lot of opinions as well as the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had the responsibility to carry the music of twelve other guys and you had just lost something that was precious to you. You threw yourself into your work and that became your identity.”

“I—”

“I know you’re not that way anymore, but I’m just reminding you that, no matter what happens with her, no matter how she may respond, you aren’t that cold teenager who had to bear the weight all on your own. You’ve grown and are surrounded by people who can help ease the load.” Jeonghan paused for a moment. “Also, if I could think of a member who laughs easily at anything, you are one of the first that comes to mind. So, it concerns me that you haven’t been laughing lately, even when Mingyu accidentally sneezed out his ramyeon noodles—“ Jihoon snorted at the memory from last night. “—and, if I can assume anything about her, I don’t think she’d be very honored to know that it’s because of her. So. Come back to us, Jihoon. If she’s really meant to be in your life, she can match your rhythm. Don’t leave us in the dust.”

“Is this a long-winded way of saying ‘bros before hoes’?”

Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Maybe so!”

──────────────────

“Our Jihoonie~”

The teenage boy grunted in response, shooting up a look at one of the older members. “Is there something that you need, hyung?”

“You speak so formally, it’s off-putting.”

“That’s because someone refuses to act his age.”

“What a tough Busan guy,” Jeonghan teased.

Jihoon’s face twitched.

“Bumzu-hyung is looking for you. Said he wanted to finish up some more lessons.”

“Agh. I knew he was going to have criticisms. I’m barely getting a grip on this music production stuff, so I don’t even know if what I’m making is good enough to sell. Everyone might hate it.”

“Even if everyone else hates your music, just know I’m one of your biggest fans.”

“...If my music is hated, then we won’t make any money, which means you’ll be poor. What? Is it your dream to become poor?”

Jihoon expected Jeonghan to laugh and tell him that he was right and that money mattered. But instead, Jeonghan replied, “Jihoon. Your music is good. And if we don’t make money because other people aren’t able to see it. Then what’s the point? You say that it’s your responsibility as to whether SEVENTEEN succeeds or not, but, we’re thirteen members. Three units. One team. We’re SEVENTEEN. Stop acting like it’s all about you. Maybe my dream used to be becoming rich. But now, it’s just doing this. With all of us.”

──────────────────

Jihoon stared at his hands, at the charm bracelet. “Is it selfish to want this life and her as well?”

“Maybe it is. But, so what if you’re selfish?”

“Isn’t being selfish supposed to be a bad thing?”

“Just hope that she’s as selfish as you are,” Jeonghan shrugged. “By wanting her in your life, does that mean you want to be with her romantically?”

Jihoon paused. “You know, I’m not sure. I think I would be over the moon if we could even just be a part of each other’s lives. To have that line of communication open. But as the people that we are now. I think I’d like to meet the new Y/N. She probably has more in common with the new Lee Jihoon than the old her anyway.”

“You two have grown apart, aren’t you worried?”

Jihoon went silent for a moment, trying to pick out the right words. “Rather than grown apart, it feels like we’ve simply grown in separate spaces, by taking different routes, but our lives seem too intertwined for our paths to never cross again. Plus, she’s one of the few people that I could really be myself around. It’d be nice to have another safe space like that outside of SEVENTEEN because who else can I complain about you all to, that wouldn’t cause conflict between us?”

“Ay. What is there to complain about?”

Jihoon gave his hyung a pointed look.

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan started. “But be honest. Real talk. You really think she wouldn’t spread it to Dispatch?”

“She has always valued people’s stories more than anything, so it really annoyed her when other people would take out-of-context excerpts and twist them. So. That’s how I know she wouldn’t spread it. Also, if she was that kind of person, she would’ve done so by now. She has a ton of blackmail material on me.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “Interesting. You said she likes stories, so is she a writer like you?”

“Not in the traditional sense. She’s more of a speaker than a writer. In high school, of course, she had her awkward moments like everybody else did, but even then, she was a tier above the rest. I don’t know how to say this kindly, but she doesn’t really think before she talks, but she doesn’t usually have to because what comes out is almost always what she intended.”

“So, she must be eloquent then.”

Jihoon clicked his tongue. “Just because things come out as she intended doesn’t mean she wouldn’t intentionally be mean or annoying.”

──────────────────

“You like unnie, don’t you?”

Jihoon spluttered. Shit, shit, shit. He tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He wasn’t good with spontaneous spoken words, that was always your realm of expertise. He needed time to think of the right thing to say, but you never waited for him. “F-Firefly, I—”

You barked out a laugh, and he nearly retaliated at the harshness. He wasn’t sure why exactly you were being so harsh. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. She’s pretty high up there, above us mortals. From now on, I’ll do my best to help you out, yeah? That’s what best friends are for. Plus, you’re like family, like a brother to me, so.”

Jihoon sank back.

Family? Brother?

He wondered why that left a bitter taste in his mouth. But that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t being called family the highest praise?

So why the hell did that piss him off?

Instead of speaking his actual thoughts, his mouth had a mind of its own. “I can handle myself, Y/N.”

You sneered at him.

God, you were so infuriating sometimes. 

She wasn’t like that.

She was the soothing waves of Busan, ebb and flow, constant and expected. She was everything you weren’t. She was older, more experienced, graceful, calm, soothing.

She was beautiful.

But she didn’t have that burning fire you did. Didn’t have him reacting the way you managed to every time you opened your damn mouth or rolled your eyes—there you went again!

What the hell was wrong with you?

Rapid escalation, raised voices. You, accusing him of not trusting your judgment and hiding his crush from you, saying that you wished he trusted you. Him, arguing that he didn’t need to share every little thing, that it wasn’t about his trust for you at all, and that God, he did! He did trust you! Of course, he did!

So, why didn’t he tell you about the stupid crush?

It wasn’t that deep, but you were convinced it was, and he was too tired to even try and correct you. So, sure, he could be “in love” with his noona, like you believed. Because then he wouldn’t have to untangle the mess in his chest. He could shove it under the rug like he always had, always would.

You slammed your fists down onto the table before you walked away from him, in a rampage. Like a damn wildfire trying to clear everything in sight.

You were a volatile thing, explosive, even.

But.

You fizzled out just as fast.

He awoke around midnight to the soft knocking at his window, your silhouette perched on the thickest branch the tree outside his childhood home had to offer. He had half a mind to not open the glass pane but he saw you shiver and his body leaped out of bed without a second thought.

“I’m sorry, Jihoonie,” you said, a few moments after you clambered into his room.

“Okay.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for being friends with me anyway.”

“Sure.”

So, he wrapped your favorite blanket around you, the one he kept in his room for nights like this. Color slowly returned to your face and he saw the stains of tears on your cheek in the moonlight. You muttered words of apologies and told him about your day, not having the chance to earlier.

You were better like this, quiet, but not silent. Like a crackling fireplace beckoning all to come and listen, to be enveloped in warmth and light.

He never once called you his family.

But he’d be damned if you weren’t his home.

─────────��────────

“Funny enough, despite the fact that she’s more of a speaker than a writer, even more than that, she’s a listener. She listens to more stories than she tells them. I think that’s helped with her pride. If she knew she messed up, she would always apologize, even if she hated doing it.”

“Well, that’s one lesson you haven’t learned from her yet.”

Jihoon pulled a face and Jeonghan laughed in response. The older of the two snatched away the Chopper on the opposite end and started throwing the doll up and down.

“Alright, lover boy. What I got from this conversation is that you’re still in love with her, but you gotta make sure she’s worthy of your love, alright? Heed my warning, don’t be afraid of being rejected by her. It’s already happened anyway, and here you are: world-star idol with twelve bros behind you no matter what.”

Jihoon cracked a smile. “You’re right. I got lucky.”

Jeonghan tossed Chopper back in his original vicinity. “I think Dokyeomie wanted to ask something from you too, but I don’t remember what it was, so maybe you can go get ready and he’ll come find you.”

“What a useless messenger.”

“Your luck can’t be perfect, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan quipped. He turned to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. “I hope to hear her story one day. Hear her side of things.”

“…Me too, hyung.”

──────────────────

“How much is the corn dog?”

“Hmm… Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”

Jihoon mustered as much displeasure as he could hold in his six-year-old body. “Y/N, you can’t pay with stories, that’s stupid.”

“It’s my shop!”

“Jihoon, we’re just playing pretend,” your cousin added, his eyes darting between the two of you, likely worried about needing to do damage control.

“Hyung, her idea is dumb!”

“Why!” You whined. “People pay with money all the time, but you can get money whenever! I don’t get to hear stories! I like stories! My parents don’t read to me every night like yours do, Jihoon!”

Jihoon stomped out of the playroom in annoyance, ears grated by the sound of your crying and your cousin’s failed attempts to console you. Stories couldn’t buy the new toy race car that he got. Stories couldn’t buy him candy at the corner market near the kindergarten. Stories couldn’t buy a GameBoy.

Stories didn’t matter.

Money mattered.

Still, nearly a decade later, you never failed to ask for your unconventional form of payment every time he took a portion of your lunch. He knew you packed more for him anyway. And he knew you would always ask for a story in return.

And he intentionally packed smaller meals so he could tell you about how the History teacher had botched up his classmate’s test and accidentally graded off by one, about how the clarinet solo he was learning required a finger pattern he wasn’t used to, about how that one guy—oh, the tennis player?—no, no, the flautist—isn’t it flutist?—it doesn’t matter—yes, it does, Jihoon—anyway, he asked out a girl—the senior?—yes—oh wow, how bold.

And you would smile in return, sliding your food choice of the day within his reach.

He learned that you hated money; it was the one and only thing your parents ever gave you consistently. Simply, it was the manifestation of their love (or lack of) for you.

So, he paid you with recountings of the mundane. You never complained, even when he felt as though his storytelling skills were lackluster. He held your rapt attention; your eyes wide with wonder, voice laced with curiosity.

Eventually, he asked you why.

Why stories?

“Because without them, I wouldn’t have learned that you love the X-Men series because of Hugh Jackman, that you prefer winter over summer, that the first ever K-Pop group you listened to was Brown Eyed Girls, that when you tell me a funny story, you wait until I react before you start laughing.”

And you gave him that smile that made his heart stutter.

“Money is everywhere, Jihoon. But there’s only one you. That’s all there is to it. People, at the core of it all, are just stories. So. That’s why. People will always matter more than profit.”

──────────────────

After Jihoon readied himself for the group dinner, he plopped himself down onto the communal couch and found himself scrolling through Instagram. He stopped at your latest post, a candid shot of you reading a children’s book to several six-year-olds, your face aglow with excitement, a high chance the photographer captured you mid-way through some silly voice attributed to the character on the page.

“Hey, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“Can I borrow your microphone for the day?”

Jihoon didn’t even have the chance to think twice before the words left his mouth, “Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.

“Is… Is this a hidden-camera?”

“...never mind. Just put it back when you’re done.”

“It’s blue, by the way.”

“I don’t care—”

“It makes me feel happy because it’s the color of the sky and of the ocean, which means it can be super calm or super exciting. It’s also one of the colors of our Caratdeul.”

“Okay, Dokyeom-ssi. Get out.”

“Yes, hyung. Thank you.”

Jihoon thought about how, if given the chance, you would ask Seokmin if he liked the paleness of 9am or the depth of 6pm? If he liked the gentleness of serenity or the vibrancy of cerulean? Or if he appreciated all that the shades encompassed before fading into greens and indigos?

But he wasn’t you.

You were the inspiration; the muse.

You were the reason to write.

He was just a storyteller.

──────────────────

“THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS HERE. THANK YOU TO THE PLEDIS STAFF, OUR MANAGERS, OUR CHOREOGRAPHERS, OUR MUSIC TEAM, OUR DANCERS, OUR STYLISTS, OUR CAMERA WORKERS, OUR FAMILIES, AND OUR SEVENTEEN MEMBERS! HAPPY SIX YEARS. HERE’S TO MORE!”

Everyone in the rented out restaurant cheered before drinking together. Even the sound barrier breaking screams of Soonyoung wasn’t enough to dampen Jihoon’s pride and spirit over how far they’ve come as a team. He looked around at his table, several members already seemingly drunk, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Jihoon-ah, make an exception for tonight and drink!”

He shook his head fervently. “There’s going to be several of you who are going to regret drinking when we have our V LIVE tomorrow. You’re going to look super puffy.”

“I can already feel it,” Seungcheol laughed, his eyes slightly glazed. “But the food and the beer are too good to pass up.”

Speaking of, Jihoon made sure to snatch a piece of kalbi to put onto his plate before Mingyu could. The younger one gave him the stink-eye while Jihoon merely smirked and tilted his head back, challenging him. Mingyu decided to change his target and grab at Seungkwan’s piece, who promptly smacked his hand with a “Kim Mingyu!”

Laughter went around the table as they reflected on the last six years, the amount of embarrassing moments that were brought up were positively correlated with the amount of shots that were taken.

Jihoon grit his teeth as he tried not to fold in on himself, remembering how they threw him up as a cheer and nearly ended his life by creating a Jihoon-shaped hole in the ceiling. He was so much smaller back then, easier to launch without thinking.

They laughed about the incident where Mingyu was nearly beaten to death by Jihoon with a guitar, which Jihoon argued that he still believed he was in the right. They discussed one of their first performances as a team, where they performed NU’EST’s “Hello” and they all had helmet hair. They poked fun at Seungkwan for his revolutionary English skills when he said, “are you kimbap kidding?”

They’ve grown so much.

International interviews with BuzzFeed, Seventeen the magazine, and others. GOING SEVENTEEN as a show has grown alongside them, more than just showing Carats the behind-the-scenes, but has now turned to variety that garnered the new fanbase of Cubics, and has been an honest highlight to Jihoon’s career, where they can just go wild and laugh with each other, just as they always do.

They talked about how they used to sneak in food, how they used to help each other get ready for school, how they still have the same playful spirit as they did back then, but with more trust that has formed between them (although, less for Jeonghan since his cheating at games has only gotten worse).

Jihoon leaned back, full of food and laughter and gratitude.

He wouldn’t trade his life with his team for anything.

(Not even you.)

However, that didn’t mean Jihoon didn’t want you to be a part of his already complete life.

He was a selfish human being.

He hoped you would be one too.

──────────────────

May 26th.

Six years ago, “Adore U” came out, marking the beginning of the journey of a thirteen member boy idol group named SEVENTEEN.

Now, here he was, trying to not be bullied into drinking another shot of soju after already consuming several in a short period.

Their anniversary V LIVE ended not too long ago and they did not have a schedule the following day, so the team decided to celebrate on their own, playing Mafia and messing around. A few hours ago, Jihoon would’ve hardly been able to tolerate the noise level, but since his hearing has been compromised due to his heart beating so loudly in his ears from the alcohol, he was plenty fine.

He shooed away his members and retreated back into the corner of the room, pulling out his cellphone and ignoring Mingyu making stupid kissy faces and noises. Jihoon shot him a look of disgust, but Mingyu merely laughed it off and went to go bother his next victim, who seemed to be Boo Seungkwan, a prime choice indeed.

As soon as he refreshed his Instagram app, there you were (with a highlighted gradient ring around your profile picture, your head tilted back with a soft smile grazing your features as you took in the endless sky above you).

He clicked on the circle and saw you and your friends there, a dimmed photo but your collective smiles large and wide. He recognized Hyejin and Wheein easily (the former with a disgusted look apparent on her face and the latter with a deep dimple), as they were two friends who were a common occurrence on your feed.

And there you were.

alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD

The corner of his lip quirked up at the cleverness in your caption.

Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in his system, he swiped up to send a message:

i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan

His brain short-circuited.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

Who was he to think he could directly message you like this? Also, who the hell was he to figure anything about you? He hasn’t even spoken to you. Jesus Christ, what has he done?

Before he could stop himself though, his thumbs decided to speak his thoughts.

sorry that was dumb of me to assume

of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album

What the hell, dude.

You were going to freak out and call him a creep and then block him.

You’ve literally never done that.

He tried to calm his heart.

However, not even ten minutes later, he realized he couldn’t take that risk.

sorry that was stupid

ignore me

congrats y/n

He felt nearly every goosebump that crawled along his skin, creeping up to his neck, threatening to choke him out. He breathed in deeply through his nose, hoping no one bears witness to him.

“Yah, Jihoon-ah.”

His eyes trailed up to see Soonyoung with a look of concern, mixed with a twinge of panic and anger.

Ah, it would be him.

“What did she do?”

──────────────────

For people who didn’t know him, Kwon Soonyoung comes off as, well, not-so-bright.

But that wasn’t (entirely) true.

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

He knew how to read a room, but oftentimes, he would purposely choose to simply do what he wanted anyway. Hardly did he ever prioritize another person’s comfort and complacency over his expression of his individuality. He knew what it took to be a performer, and he never denied himself the opportunity to be one.

So, him simply staring at his friend in silence with eyes that alone could have earned him his moniker of “Tiger’s Gaze,” was a major indicator that something was amiss.

Also, the fact that his friend was shrouded in near darkness, eyes rimmed with red, only a corner lamp illuminating his pale features.

“She went to America. She’s never fucking coming back.”

Soonyoung tried not to wince at his friend’s broken tone. Jihoon cursed like a sailor when they were trainees, but it was a habit that he slowly lost since he would often be reprimanded for his speech. He had to do the work to censor himself.

Well, the K-Pop industry was not a stranger to censorship, he mused.

“Wasn’t she already at an international school, though?”

“Yeah, but I just… I thought she would come back after graduating from that boarding school, you know? She wanted to go to Seoul National University, but. Fuck, dude. What if I’m the reason she stopped? What if she stopped following her dreams because of me? What if I–”

“She made her choice, Jihoon.”

“This is all my fault.”

“How?”

Soonyoung saw confusion flit across Jihoon’s face, but it quickly settled with a shake of his head. “It just is, alright?”

“Jihoon–”

“I’ll never be good enough for her. Fuck, I just thought if I tried, then maybe I could be, and– God, who do I think I am? Of course she’d never want someone like me–”

“Dude! Shut the fuck up, will you?”

Jihoon sat there in stunned silence.

“This might not even have anything to do with you. And if she really went to America because she’s trying to avoid you, then she’s a massive bitch–”

“Don’t fucking call her that–”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. Just like she’s doing whatever the hell she wants.” Soonyoung’s anger was slowly morphing into rage. Who was this person in front of him? He was so used to the sure, secure Lee Jihoon who would never truly get riled up.

But one mention of you and suddenly he would spiral.

Who the hell did you think you were?

Leaving this man who loved you so fucking wildly, to the point where he was just one moment away from begging on his knees for your return.

Soonyoung felt disgusted, but it was more of a ringing concern in his ears.

“Jihoon, you’re acting crazy right now. So what if she doesn’t come back to Korea? Are you gonna wait like a fucking sad dog out in the rain? Hoping that she’ll come pick you up again? You’re missing your own fucking life here.”

“I just–”

“Yeah, yeah, you love her. I get it. But… If she were to see you right now, do you think she would even want this kind of love? This obsessive, insecure kind?”

Jihoon’s face was now contorted in pain and Soonyoung tried so terribly hard to keep his face neutral. Soonyoung was plenty capable of being a soothing person, especially to his fellow members, but he was so riddled with frustration that he knew that he would come off as disingenuous if he even tried to pretend to be.

“Let her go. If she comes back, then she will. But don’t let her come back to someone who is incapable of even picking himself off of the floor.”

“...Okay.”

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

Aware of how much Lee Jihoon was in love with you.

Painfully so.

──────────────────

“I just–”

“You just what?” Soonyoung’s eyes bore into his friend’s face.

Jihoon recoiled at his tone. “I replied to her Instagram story and it was some dumb comment, but what if she thinks I’m being too much and she backs off and–?”

“Jihoon-ah.”

“...Soonyoung-ah.”

“She’s human, right?”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Then why are you acting like she’s this untouchable goddess? Who cares if she thinks you’re being too much? You’re putting her on a pedestal she probably doesn’t even want, dude.”

──────────────────

“Why’d you reject the guy?”

You glanced up at her best friend. “What’re you talking about?”

Jihoon cocked his head to the side. Was it already so quickly forgotten by you? It happened at lunch and it was kind of rowdy. Poor dude. “The guy who asked you out to the dance. You said you thought he was cute before and that he was good at tutoring math.”

“Yeah, I might know him, but he doesn’t know me.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys tutored together.”

You clicked your tongue. “Yeah, we do, but. He doesn’t know me. I know him because I ask him questions. I ask him about himself. But he never once asked me a question about me. If he did, he would know that I hate public gestures. He would know that I don’t like receiving flowers. He didn’t even care to ask any of my friends about what I liked. The main reason as to why he asked me to go to the dance is probably because I made him feel good about himself. I might know him, but he doesn’t know me, and that’s one of the most annoying things.”

“What, that people don’t know you?”

“No. That people assume they know me.”

Jihoon paused for a moment.

“People think that I’m this super wholesome good kid who gets perfect grades.”

“Well, one of those things is true.”

You cracked a smile at that. “Yeah, well. The more people assume I’m on a different level from them, the lonelier it is. I just… I don’t want to be lonely, Jihoon.”

“It’s alright. I’ll make sure you aren’t.”

It was chilling, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, as if you knew a secret he didn’t, as if you already prophesied a future that rendered his words empty. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lee Jihoon.”

──────────────────

Jihoon nearly bit his tongue.

Ever since he no longer had the security of having you be by his side, he became exactly like one of them, forcing assumptions onto you.

You were out of sight and he was out of his mind.

He told you that you could always be yourself around him, and here he was, creating a caricature of you in his head that he knew didn’t exist. To push forth the narrative he wrote. One born of insecurity. “...I don’t understand how you’ve been so right lately?”

“I really do wish I had my phone around to record you when you say that,” Soonyoung said off-handedly. “So, you’re not going to try to unsend those messages?”

“You can unsend messages?”

“Uh–”

Jihoon immediately unlocked his phone to go to his messages. There, he saw your chat. He long-pressed the message without much thought and his thumb hovered over it.

But he hesitated.

“...Just watching from afar isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?”

Jihoon stared up at his friend, who had a look of (almost) pity etched across his features. Jihoon swallowed the lump in his throat. “...No. I don’t think it is.”

“Well, if she rejects you in any kind of way, I can comfort you.”

“No thanks.”

“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”

──────────────────

Almost exactly sixty minutes later, Jihoon witnessed a miracle.

“...She replied.”

Seungkwan glanced up at Jihoon. “Who?”

Jihoon turned his screen to his younger member, who leaned forward to read his screen. Only to audibly gasp and cover his mouth with his hands. “You messaged her?!”

“Yeah, like an hour ago. Keep up.”

“Hyung, you didn’t tell me–”

“Ah, Boo Seungkwan.”

The corner of Seungkwan’s mouth twitched and Jihoon merely smirked. He turned his attention back to your messages, smiling fondly at your usage of 🥳 after greeting him a happy anniversary.

Oh shit, wait. You knew SEVENTEEN?

And he portrayed that sentiment exactly when messaging you.

(With some typing errors.)

(He may or may not have taken one, two, several shots once the anxiety settled back into him.)

(His alcohol tolerance was nonexistent.)

The messages were now rapid-fire. He found out that you were a Carat and that you favored Yoon Jeonghan.

He snorted at that, of course you would.

A lightbulb lit up over his head. Ah. He could do something for you.

He jumped up from his seat on the couch, away from Seungkwan who was watching over his shoulder the entire time who chose to remain silent because he knew he would be kicked out if he said anything compromising. “Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Woozi Woozi~?”

“Can you do something for me?”

Jeonghan stared at him, frozen. Then after a moment to process what exactly Jihoon said, the older one crossed his arms over his chest, a scandalized look in his wide eyes. “Depends on what you’re asking for.”

“YAH.”

“Lee Jihoon, don’t yell at someone you’re trying to ask a favor from. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”

Jihoon held his tongue, but his expression must have given it away because Jeonghan laughed and said that he would rather not die, and asked Jihoon to continue with what he was saying. “Y/N just graduated and she basically said that you’re her favorite SEVENTEEN member–”

“WOW! I like her already.”

“Hyung.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do for both my cute fan and my even cuter dongsaeng?”

“Just a video to congratulate her.”

“My videos are rare, it’s not easy to get something like this, you know.”

“Hyung, please.”

Jeonghan cackled, but quickly acquiesced. “Alright, alright.”

Soon enough, he found himself in a rhythm speaking to you. It was so easy, there was no residual awkwardness (on his end, at least) and it felt so natural. The banter was still there and so were your emoticons, escalating from the “:)” of your childhood to the iPhone emojis. You seemed so close, within reach, attainable.

That felt dangerous.

He could feel it. He could feel that desire to spill out everything he could. He spent years coming up with the words he wished he could’ve told you, some of them now award-winning songs, and it feels almost euphoric to know that he could tell you it all.

But.

He wasn’t sure, still. How receptive you would be. Would you run away like you did in the past whenever things became too much, too overwhelming? He always reminded you that you could never be that, but he wasn’t sure whether he was of the same capacity.

He wants you in his life. There is no doubt about that, especially not now.

But what if you leave again?

He cannot mess this up. He can’t.

So, he kept things light between you, jokes and jabs.

But that didn’t stop him from pushing for more, disguised in a (not-so) innocent attempt at ensuring that he would be able to have open contact with you in the future.

And that’s all he needed. A future with you in it.

That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

──────────────────

Yes. Yes, it was.

After a few days of no response from your end on KakaoTalk, your Shikamaru profile picture almost mocking him with his permanent deadpan look, the answer was resounding.

But Jihoon’s entire identity was based on his stubbornness.

So, he decided to take a chance and message you on Instagram.

Only to retract immediately saying you didn’t have to reply.

Stupid.

Thankfully, though, you responded within 30 minutes, admitting that @narutofanfreak123 was not exactly a username you wanted to share with anyone above the age of twelve. You both quickly resolved the miscommunication (wow, Jihoon thought, imagine if we had this before).

He chuckled at your choice of KKT username, @MadameFirefly, oddly touched that his nickname for you still held enough weight to be your moniker for a messaging app.

He did his best to casually ask what you were planning on doing in the future (not like he wanted to see if he could somehow fit into it, or whatever).

Jihoon was left staring at his phone screen, the weight of his phone now burdened by the weight of your choices. Seoul? Or New York City?

──────────────────

“You didn’t have to miss the dance just because I got a B on an exam, you know.”

“Your parents are insane for grounding you to the library for a B on an exam, you know? And for a hagwon that’s way above our grade level.”

You shook your head, not willing to admit out loud that you agreed. “What I mean is that you don’t have to keep me company while I study when you could go off and meet cute girls and sweep them off their feet.”

“Why would I do that when I can watch you and your snot-nosed face trying to do college level calculus?”

“It’s all so that I can get into Seoul National.”

“Firefly, you could get into any school, even outside Korea.”

“Maybe I’ll do just that,” you laughed. “Finally get out of here.”

“Just let me know and I’ll stow myself into your suitcase.”

“Oh please. You’ll probably be the one traveling internationally doing whatever you do. A world-renowned musician.”

“Alright, you can be in my suitcase instead then.”

“Okay, can you leave breathing holes for me?”

“No, get better lung capacity.”

You clicked your tongue at him and he laughed. “Seriously, though, Jihoonie. You could be spending your teen years the way the movies do it. You could be ‘swearing you’re infinite’ while a slow-mo cam focuses on you as you dance, surrounded by beautiful people definitely too old to be cast as teenagers.”

“No thanks.”

You put your forehead down onto the table. “Please. Do it for me. Get a girlfriend because I can’t.”

“You know, you’re probably why I can’t get a girlfriend.”

No. You definitely were.

You shot him an annoyed look. “You could easily go and find someone who’d be smitten with you. But instead you’re about to watch me get a nosebleed over how hard I’m working my brain here.”

“Maybe I’m a sadist and want to watch that happen.”

You threw your eraser at him, but easily missed, the rubber object bouncing off of the table and onto the carpeted floor. You whined at the idea of having to leave your seat and Jihoon just rolled his eyes and picked it up for you.

Sure, he could be dancing with his friends, with cute girls, with whoever. He could be surrounded by endless snacks and overly sweet punch, the dance no doubt smelling like youth and pride and reckless decisions. He would see that there are plenty of people in his life outside of you.

But, no.

If he did, you would be left here, in this almost deserted library on a Friday, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into what your parents have convinced you matters more than your health.

You gave him a large grin as he passed you your eraser before you went back to focusing on your work.

Yeah, he’d much rather see this instead.

──────────────────

Later that evening, he found himself again in his recording studio.

Our past that didn’t line up,

If I could go back in time,

Rather than roughly, but warmly,

Would I be able to let you go?

He stared at the lyrics he wrote, feeling discontent. He wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t feel any kind of residual emotions towards you. Who would be able to meet you where you were and wish you well, no matter where you decided to go.

One of his biggest regrets was storming out of your childhood home the way that he did. He could’ve had answers but instead he was left with hostile emotions and questions.

He could only hope he would’ve done something different.

But now that he is faced with letting you go, he’s not sure how easily he would yield.

He took a moment to bury his face in his hands and tried to think about this from your perspective (something he had to practice while living with twelve other boys). He breathed in deeply and thought about the you that you are now, about how the person he fell in love with could easily be gone, and you were nothing but a shadow of what remained.

But that didn’t feel right either. It seems as though the person that you’ve grown into, that you’ve flourished into, is someone he would’ve wanted to get to know regardless of whether you had history or not.

Perhaps that is because of the artifice of social media, or perhaps it’s because you carry an air of authenticity with you that has now been given the opportunity to bloom instead of stifled in the environment you were raised in. Whether or not you were mere remnants of his past, it does not mean that the person you are now is any less lovely.

He groaned loudly.

Emotional labor is hard.

How is this something you enjoy doing?

──────────────────

“You really want to become a social worker, huh?”

You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. It feels like the best use of my skills. I like being able to potentially help people like me and well, there are a lot of people like me, you know. I don’t know whether I want to become a private practice therapist, but that seems like a solid option for now until I know more about what else is out there in the field.”

He would disagree, but he decided not to. “I just can’t deal with all of those emotions.”

You gave him a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most sensitive people that I know.”

Jihoon felt ruffled by that. “What? What are you talking about?”

You quickly put your hands up in mock defense. “I’m not saying that being sensitive is a bad thing. I’m saying that there’s no way you would be my friend if you couldn’t handle emotions. I have way too many of them, I’m not that blind to that. Also, I’ve read your poetry and heard your music and that’s some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Like, even the way you hold your clarinet is emotional.”

“I think that’s you projecting yourself onto me.”

“Say what you want, Jihoon. You’re a sensitive soul, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Yeah, well, sensitivity isn’t what gets you awards, you know. Skill does.”

You huffed in response. “Yeah, well, once you build up the second, the first is what will create a legacy that will be one to remember for ages to come. I’m speaking it into existence now. And I lay claim to the title of being your first fan. I will support you the entire way, no matter what you do. Music, baseball, comedy. Whatever!”

Jihoon snorted. He wouldn’t dare become a comedian, but it made him feel good that you thought that was a viable prospect for him. “Whatever industry I’m in, I’ll probably have to protect you from all of the bad people. You’re too soft. Even just last week, I mean…”

“What? You mean, when Nahyun made fun of me during my presentation in front of everyone?”

Irritation washed over Jihoon. 

The self-proclaimed It Girl decided to try and belittle you while in the middle of your presentation, as you were explaining the measurements that you used in your findings, she asked whether you had ‘measured’ your weight recently because ‘you really ought to’.

He never wanted to get into a fight more than then, especially when your other classmates laughed along. It was a subpar, typical, low-class mean girl line, but it filled him with rage.

You were completely unphased by it, continuing on with your presentation, not even choosing to spare a glance in her direction.

Luckily, the teacher, not being a prick himself, called out Nahyun and pulled her aside after class to apologize to you. (Jihoon would’ve preferred a public execution apology.)

Jihoon stood just a few feet away as you accepted her half-assed effort. You paused for a moment and muttered something to her, something that only she could hear. Nahyun merely pursed her lips afterwards before walking away. Irritation rushed through him again.

“Seriously, though. You’re too soft, firefly.”

“Hm. I don’t think so.”

“No?”

“No. I just think everyone else is too hard on themselves. And each other.”

“...You’re gonna be a great therapist.”

“Thanks. Hire me.”

──────────────────

Jihoon had his own fair share of meetings with professional counselors (especially in the midst of living such a hectic life as an idol), but he was worried whether you would be as cut and dry as they were, whittled down by years of academia. It seemed almost like they were reading out of a textbook, using vocabulary words like ‘empathy’ and ‘self-care,’ so he never saw it fit to return if it wasn’t necessary.

However, the places you’ve poured your time into left only glowing reviews for your passion and compassion for the field that you were in.

Jihoon was roused from his thoughts at his phone ringing on his desk. He looked at the Caller ID and saw a name he has been in and out of contact with for over a decade, it was your cousin. He picked it up. “Yo, hyung. What’s up?”

“Are you busy right now, Jihoon?”

“No. It’s a slower day today. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Seoul in a few weeks. Your noona and I are planning on celebrating saying goodbye to our single days by drinking way too much within the span of 12 or so hours. I wanted to see if you were down to join.”

“I probably won’t drink, but if it’s for you, hyung, I’ll go.”

“Nice. And you can feel free to leave after the dinner, we’ll just be at an apartment we’re renting out in Gangnam, since I don’t trust those fools to walk around the streets of Hongdae.”

“I’ll probably do that, I don't want to accidentally be caught by Dispatch.”

“Right, right. We wouldn’t want to sully the name of the best producer in all of K-Pop.”

“That’s a title I don’t think I’ll ever get.”

Your cousin laughed. “You never know, you might get that award sooner than you think, kiddo. Alright, I’ll keep you updated on our schedule. But uh…”

Jihoon knew his hyung well. He was about to bring you up again. “What about her?”

“I just wanted to ask whether you’d be interested in a meet-up with her. Not that we’ve asked her or anything, but I know we’ll probably meet up with her at some point, and I know it’ll feel weird if we’re not all together, you know? The four of us.”

“Yeah… I want to say that I’m courteous enough to wait for her response, but I just know that I’m willing to meet with her, if anything. Even just one last time.”

“That… sounds kinda sad, but. I guess I’ll take it. If you’re down, we could even make it a surprise on her end.”

He imagined your deer in headlights look but couldn’t think further than that. “Sounds like we’d really be putting her on the spot, if that was the case.”

“Hey, she’s rarely played it safe. Same with you. Might as well keep the flow going. And if anything, I’ll take the brunt of it all. She can’t stay mad at me for too long.”

“We both know that’s literally not true.”

“Okay, fine. Your noona can take the blame.”

“Wow, very excited to see how this marriage will go.”

His hyung laughed. “Amazingly, I’m sure.”

A thought occurred to Jihoon and he realized it was strange that he was mentioning it as an afterthought, as if it was something to be expected, something natural and normal. “Oh, hyung. By the way, I’m talking to Y/N again.”

Jihoon heard the undeniable ‘beep beep beep’ of being hung up and he stared confused at his phone screen until he saw another phone call from your cousin. He picked up with a, “Hello?”

Your cousin sounded much more flustered than he did just seconds ago. “Sorry. I hung up because I dropped my phone by accident. Say that again. You’re what?”

“I’m talking to her again. Kind of. I guess. Like, Instagram DMing went to KakaoTalk.”

“Jesus Christ, you slid into her DMs?”

“Can you not say it like that?”

“Can you say that that didn’t happen?”

Jihoon relayed the entire experience to him, only now realizing he didn’t even share all of the details with his members because it would’ve been too much teasing fodder from them. But your cousin, his hyung, was the kind of fellow that wouldn’t do that, even given the opportunity.

──────────────────

“Hyung,” Jihoon started one day, across from said person in a local Busan restaurant. “I don’t get how you’re single.”

“Why, you wanna date me?”

Jihoon’s eye twitched and your cousin laughed. Jihoon bit on his straw, the family style meal between the two young men long since devoured. “People compare us, you know.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s there to compare?”

“I don’t know. So many people around us know how cool you are. You’re good at sports, you’re smart, you have a lot of friends, you’re handsome. Everyone always says you’re one of the best listeners they’ve ever met.”

“The trick is to not pay attention sometimes and just nod.”

“I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that.”

“I’m sure she knows,” he laughed. “Well, I'm honored that you think all of those things, but those are all traits you have too. You do realize that, right?”

Jihoon grunted. “Not… really.”

“Well, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean others don’t. My cousin definitely does. She’s a good kid and has a good heart. Same with you. If you ever decide to do anything about those feelings of yours, just know that I approve.”

Jihoon nearly choked on his drink. “Wh–?”

“Oh, it was a secret?”

“Hyung!”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything to her, don’t worry. And if you ask me, I’d say that you’re the only one on this planet that even has a chance. Well, except that girl from the cake shop.”

Jihoon sneered.

Fucking Woo Soyeon.

With her shiny hair and long eyelashes and doe eyes and tanned skin from her beach volleyball playing.

Giving out discounts to you like nobody’s business. Calling you cute and flirting nonstop while twirling a lock of her hair. Saying you’re her favorite customer. He could swear Woo Soyeon would throw a knowing smirk at him every time you stuttered a little too long when saying thank you.

That damned girl behind the counter, the one whose beauty and voice (“It’s just so velvety, you know? Like the chocolate cherry cakes.”) he knew you were smitten by.

She was even taller than him, especially in her heels.

At the ripe age of 15, Jihoon understood what jealousy was.

Because of fucking Woo Soyeon.

“Watch out, Jihoon. I can hear your thoughts all the way from over here.”

“Sorry.”

Your cousin laughed. “Trust me, you mean a lot more to her than cake counter girl. My cousin wanted all of us to go see the Christmas lights in the city together. You don’t see her inviting that cake counter girl, do you?”

Jihoon felt a weird sense of pride well up in his chest. Then immediately deflated. It felt stupid to feel like he won against a person who’s just trying to sell cakes to a loyal customer. “Hyung, how do you do it? You’d never let yourself get angry or jealous over stuff like this.”

The older of the two cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You wouldn’t get jealous over a cake counter girl.”

“Says who? I get jealous. It’s normal, you know. Jealousy isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just what you do with it, right? Like, just because you’re jealous of cake counter girl, does that mean you stop Y/N from going to that shop?”

“What? Why would I do that? She loves that shop.”

“Exactly. Emotional maturity doesn’t mean you stop yourself from feeling the emotion, it just means you learn how to handle it as it comes. And once you practice it enough, it becomes easier and easier.”

“You make it sound easy, but it’s not.”

“Hey, I’m not anything big and special myself.”

Jihoon shook his head. “Hyung, you’re a superhuman.”

“No, I’m just human and letting myself be that,” he corrected. “Trust me, there’s plenty of good people out there. A lot of them just aren’t making the decision to do so. It’s easier to be cruel, but. I want to prove that you can be kind and still be a man. We get to define what that means. If I decided to be cruel, to become what society says is ‘a man,’ then I have no doubt Y/N would lose trust in me, and probably, all men.”

Jihoon noticed that his hyung stared at him for a second.

“Actually, maybe not all men.”

Jihoon felt embarrassed, but also honored, at the implication. “Thanks, hyung. You know, for not making fun of me. And for admitting that you also feel those kinds of things.”

“Absolutely, I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m seriously still surprised that you’re single.”

“Yeah, well. That might not always be the case if I can figure out what to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… you know your noona?”

──────────────────

Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the way the events unfolded. Your cousin told him about his feelings for his future wife, but it still took a few years for anything to come out of that. He wondered whether being childhood friends had anything to do with it, as if the longer and deeper the bond, the riskier the chasm was to try to jump across.

However, your cousin still managed to do it.

“How did you do it, hyung?”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Just… how did you manage to tell noona how you felt?”

The older man laughed. “You really think that it was me who confessed? No, no. It was her. I think she was tired of the back and forth that was happening between us. I mean, so was I, but I was a coward, but thankfully, she wasn’t. Now because of her saying that she loved me first, I get to be the one who says it last. Then we start again. It’s a dialogue, you see. It doesn’t matter who starts the line, as long as it continues.”

“Oh…”

“Am I proud that I was a coward? No. I sometimes wish it was me who said it first so she wouldn’t have any room for doubt. But we can’t go back and change the past, only commit to a better future. All of this to say, though, Jihoon, it’s been long enough of not saying anything between the two of you. I don’t think you want to wait any longer.”

“…yeah. I agree.”

That night, hours after preparing for the album, Jihoon’s fingers tapped away on his Notes app.

This waiting, it’s not easy to endure.

It was past 4am now.

But he didn’t want to wait any longer.

So, he switched apps and instead of a blank Note, he began typing into a message box.

i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am

A response from you was the last thing he expected, but you always managed to surprise him.

The first time he heard your voice directly in his ears, he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. But he tried to keep his voice level as he asked you about where you were leaning towards for your career.

The relief that rushed through him.

The hope that ignited in him.

That was the spark needed for him to explode.

And so he did, into words.

“I’m proud of you, you know?”

He heard your throaty stutter, one that only came out whenever you were really caught off guard. “Uh—what?”

“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea,” Jihoon still couldn’t believe the two of you went to the same school. “You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So I’m proud of you.”

He could barely hear your, “It’s not that big of a deal—” over the pounding in his ears.

“But it is, firefly.”

And suddenly he was brought back to all the years before. Where he spent more years in love with you than not. How that nickname encapsulated exactly as he saw you: inspiration, guidance, hope.

“I mean, I just—”

Your flustered response only encouraged him to continue. “You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”

“Jihoon, I—”

He didn’t realize just how much he’s missed hearing you say his name. But more than that, “I’ve missed you.”

There was a pause on your end, but he was done with his.

“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls—” which he would never admit to being the reason he never wants to get behind the wheel again. “And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly, for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle going down. That kind of stupid.”

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was naming a memory that you no doubt remember as well, it was near traumatizing. But there was something in him that didn’t want you to forget. He didn’t want himself to forget. Because…

If I forget someday, as if nothing is wrong,

Our future will be empty and sad.

It’s not that I want to forget you.

Ah, he made a mental note to switch to his Notes app later.

“I… I missed you too.”

Jihoon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his cheeks, almost to the point of straining them. It was already so late and he still had enough function in his brain to know he ought to cut this short now. Otherwise, he’d be on the phone with you for an ungodly amount of time. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”

“Okay.” Your voice sounded so small, he had to press his phone closer to his ear to ensure he didn’t miss anything.

“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”

“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”

He laughed hard at that. You would say that. “Alright, we’ll just go with firefly then.”

‘We’ felt good on his tongue.

“Night, night, Jihoonie.”

“Sleep well, firefly.”

He told you he needed to sleep, but with the way that he was running on sheer endorphins from finally releasing some of that pressure inside of him, sleep was the furthest thing on his mind. Instead, he imagined you getting some well-deserved rest, wondering what kind of dreams you hoped to have.

You were falling asleep, he was falling in love.

──────────────────

In less than 24 hours, he was going to see you in person for the first time in years, no more needing to find YouTube videos or podcasts or news articles or social media posts.

Tomorrow, he’ll be face to face with you.

And the dorm was in chaos.

“He should wear the white button down!”

“No, he should wear something funky, with cool patterns!”

“What? Absolutely not, hyung! Jihoon-hyung looks best in plain clothing, his skin shines that way!”

“Well, he’s been avoiding his skincare, so that might not be the best route to go down.”

“Hoon is handsome no matter what!”

Jihoon was exhausted. Why were his members more invested in this than he was?

Even Soonyoung was getting giddy. And that was a problem. When it came to you, Soonyoung was his voice of reason, but after he relayed the phone call he had with you, Soonyoung was easily won over by your: ‘I missed you too.’

“I knew it!” The tiger had exclaimed.

(Jihoon wasn’t sure whether he did.)

Junhui was thriving off of the chaos and was now leaping across the wooden floor, with Jeonghan quickly on his tail, trying to coerce him into stopping and failing miserably. Seokmin was still trying to convince Seungkwan that a funky pattern was like how, in nature, peacocks showed off to their mates—“he’s not a bird, hyung!”—while Soonyoung kept interjecting saying that Jihoon was attractive no matter what so he could just wear a plastic bag (which earned him a gentle slap by Seokmin). Mingyu disappeared for a moment after Wonwoo’s off-handed comment about Jihoon’s skin, only to return with his skincare products that Jihoon knew were going to be slapped on him soon enough. Seungcheol kept repeating in an exasperated tone, “Stop fighting, we already got a noise complaint this week,” while Jisoo and Minghao were probably off in Jihoon’s closet trying to establish an outfit for him without his consent. Hansol was on his phone, noise-canceling earphones on, completely uninvolved in what was going on. Chan was only goading on whoever was the loudest in the moment (currently, Junhui).

Jihoon piped up. “Do I get an opinion on this?”

In near perfect synchronization (including the boys in his room), everyone responded with a, “No!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

God, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

[continue reading here]

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello!

I was wondering if I could request an angtsy fiction between Hades x fem reader x Maleficent, if possible the reader could be a AK and is unsure if being with Hades and Maleficent is okay or not, and is constantly feeling judged by people despite not many people knowing the three are together, but only write this if your comfortable with writing polys!

Anyway, have a wonderful day and once again only if you're comfortable writing this kind of thing!

oooo okay! I like this!! and dw I'm totally okay w polyship fics as long as it's age appropriate and the ship actually makes sense if two+ characters r being shipped together / not just w the reader ; I do have one thing, I only do gn / they/them readers but I don't think gender was mentioned much at all lol ; but thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! ; also I put this in hc format bc writers block and I couldn't stretch this out that far I'm sorry :((

HADES & MALEFICENT ; unsure

summary ; being an AK in a poly relationship with two VKs is socially nervewracking

warnings ; language, internalized homophobia / fear of poly-phobia idk

word count ; 579

masterlist

lowkey you all jumped into it without realizing how it made your stomachs churn on the inside

your internalized homophobia was strictly for yourself and it wanted to shine at the very moment you found yourself happy

like, you could be out doing something fun together and your heart literally stops and you spiral into confusion and hatred for yourself

nevertheless they notice but you don't wanna talk about it

they think it's because your an AK dating VKs and they're completely okay if you wanna just not be with them because of it

but it's also kind of that??

as an AK, you're supposed to be an example for others and show kindness and friendliness

not date the VKs...

so you often spiral over that too

not many people know you three are poly other than the other VKs, and your friends

fay literally couldn't care less, as long as you aren't dating uliana...

she thinks you're cute

just don't join the dark side ig

the others are kinda iffy about you dating two rotten-to-the-core VKs but you do you

just don't become a bully like uliana

cause they know she kinda just drags them around

they understand that they have it a little wrong after you explain that hades & mali are just there for the drama & to do dumb shit with the others out of school

to be up front, uliana doesn't like you that much at first but she grows on you

the fact you aren't trying to be her friend kinda amazes her, she likes it

hook and morgie actually couldn't care less, as long as yall are happy

they'll happily be your couples therapy, they have nothing else going for them

but the spiraling over everything never really stops

thankfully it gets so bad that hades and maleficent literally have to intervene and make you open up

you'd been trying to hide all your confusion and opposing morals for so long and you exploded on bridget one afternoon 😟😔

"hi y/n! want a cupcake?"

"no, i don't want your fucking cupcakes, bridge!"

"..."

the WHOLE CLASS was staring at you...

"wow, y/n joined the dark side"

"shut the hell up, flynn"

but yeah there's lots of talk about how you can open up and talk about shit w them

I mean that's what they're there for

but they do understand that they don't know what it's like for you to carry on your back

you're scared of being rejected by society because you're queer and that you're dating two villains like cmon

like you honestly just debate running away and joining them late at night when you can't sleep

the weight to be perfect on your shoulders will just make you crumble

but you soon realize you can't be perfect, no one is, and that's okay

but you can still be yourself, love who you want, and be a good person

you never wanted to get wrapped into their villain things and they don't wanna get wrapped into your preppy little royalty shit

it's okay to be friends with / date someone with different preferences / likes !!!

and that's normal!!

it just took awhile for you to accept it

also no one gaf if you're queer you were kinda overthinking it

you could pull better than them tho

(in some ppls eyes...)

but once you fully come out and are public, ppl r just wondering why you chose them of all fae/gods

to each their own

overthinking = overrated

[elleloquently]

hi lovely <3 could i request protective!ellie and reader (relationship) in a patrol but things go south and she almost gets bit by an infected and ellie is just "i can't believe i almost lost you" and literally never gets reader out of her sight after that. thank u so much! :D

a/n : i literally love this sm thank you for requesting bc after reading this prompt i could not get it out of my head!! that being said though i'm sorry this took a bit ): the format for this is kinda weird i think maybe idk yeesh but i had too many ideas so anyway yes so cute love her c/w : weapons (guns mentioned,) violence against infected, protective!ellie my beloved (not quite edited </3)

fears all the way down - ellie williams

spring hesitated to make its welcome, the morning rays shyly peeking out from behind gray skies and dark clouds. every morning upon waking you would yearn for a sunny day, and finally the sun decided to grace the sky. it was the kind of brightness that would cause you to squint upon stepping outside, desperate to shed a few layers despite the air still being chilled, anything to feel the sun on your skin.

morning frost turned to morning dew, the slight crunch of a boot or a hoof that once crushed the delicate crystals into the grass was replaced with a slippery wetness and mud, new prints left to track.

you relished in it now, closing your eyes only briefly to imagine a world without infected, free to walk or ride without pausing at any given sound or movement. your horse followed faithfully behind shimmer, ellie's horse, as she led the way. she was always like this, leading and guiding and taking charge. it was infuriating and endearing, you would roll your eyes but only if your lips wore a smile as well.

you didn't patrol often, but when you did, ellie always found herself as your partner. incessant and persistent, you weren't aware of just how much trouble she had caused behind the scenes. rearranging shifts and lecturing just about anyone who would listen to her thinly veiled threats, the patrolmen of Jackson would rather give in with a sigh than have ellie williams worked into a fuss over who was partnered with her girlfriend.

even jesse, a dear friend to you both, knew exactly who was knocking at his door even before the sun came up on a day where you were supposed to ride out on patrol together.

it wasn't that ellie didn't trust them, or have good faith in them, because she did. and it wasn't that she didn't trust you, or think you to be capable, because she did. nevertheless, ellie displays her affections by protecting the ones she loves. you happened to be a lucky one, much to your frustration and adoration. you relished in her care but you also worried about her well-being, an endless cycle of stubborn lovers where you both seemed to keep simultaneously winning and losing.

"all good back there?" ellie noticed your silence, glancing over her shoulder with a curious smile.

you hummed in response, nodding to affirm your answer to her question. it had been a quiet patrol so far, but neither yourself nor ellie were one to let your guard down.

continuing down a well-worn path, you had spotted something in the distance that was once a house, part of it nearly collapsing within itself. it grabbed your attention anyway so you tugged on the reigns, signaling for ellie who seemed to have spotted it as well.

"think it's worth a try?" you posed, and ellie mentally debated your question.

"i think it's been a bit since anyone's gone down there..." ellie eyed the path, coming to a decision with a sigh. "might as well," she shrugged, directing shimmer towards the house.

your horses fell in step with one another as you approached your destination, weary of the trees that nearly covered the house. shimmer stopped first and ellie quickly jumped down from her faithful companion, coming to your side.

ellie shielded her eyes from the sun, offering up her free hand. you took it, gratefully, and landed feet on the ground next to her. you took a quick inventory as ellie pulled out a gun, cautiously scanning the surrounding area.

"be right back, tulip," you murmured to your horse, armed with your own weapon as you carefully approached the house.

less snow made it easier for delicate footsteps, but any infected were sure to be better blended with the greenery that were soon to be blooming again. no matter how often you were outside, or dealt with infected, you couldn't stop your heart from pounding with the threat of danger looming over your head at any given moment.

the door to the house was ajar, raising your own levels of suspicion. you glanced at ellie, who's eyebrows were drawn to a crease. you were practically holding your breath upon entering, only to let out a breath of relieve when yourself and ellie came to the conclusion that it was clear.

"i'll watch the front, do you wanna check the back?" you offered to ellie, relaxing your grip on your weapon.

"be careful," ellie responded with a nod, giving you a quick, cautious smile.

you glanced around the room, trying to see if anything was worth picking over when ellie's voice broke the brief silence.

"i mean it!" she called pressingly, though the desperation in her voice was just enough to make you laugh.

a quick glance out of the window at shimmer and tulip left you satisfied, so you pulled your attention to the wreckage that covered the room's floor. there wasn't much, not really, but some of your best finds thus far had been from searching through areas like this one.

you kicked at an old chest with your boot, watching dust particles fill the air. not expecting much, you lift open a fragile compartment and grin at the unexpected sight.

"ellie," you call, using a lighthearted tone so that she doesn't mistake it for trouble.

she appears quickly anyway, amused with the proud look that's painted itself on your face.

"more ammo," you clarify, presenting her with a little box. it wasn't much, but it was certainly more than either of you were expecting, considering the looks of the place.

"that's my girl," laughed ellie, reaching out to bump your arm to which you rolled your eyes affectionately. you could show her a rock and she would probably still respond with, 'nice!'

you poked around in silence for a bit, occasionally hearing drawers opening or a mumbled swear coming from ellie's direction. it was almost nice, and you admired the way that the sunlight was warming you from the windows when a sound broke through the atmosphere.

freezing immediately, you drew your gun and waited. you prayed that you were only paranoid, but the noise sounded again and this time it was closer, there was no mistaking it.

you were lurking near the doorway, close enough to keep a watchful eye on the horses when another croaking sound made your blood run cold. the floorboards underneath your boots creaked with every step so you stayed put, eyes frantically darting around the trees as far as you could see.

gun pointed through the door, you held your breath and waited. anything that knew you were around would be hot on your trail by now, and quickly.

you waited and waited, and all you heard was silence and the occasional snort from a horse. despite the nothingness that greeted you, you felt a growing pit in your stomach and a strong desire to go back to the main pathing where you had been previously riding.

you slowly crept through the doorway, carefully closing it only halfway while you checked everything within your eyesight once more before calling to your girlfriend. you frowned, glancing over tulip. shrugging off your extra jacket, you slung it over her saddle when you suddenly heard a branch snap.

at the sounded tell, it was already too late. a stalker came barreling out from behind a line of trees, hyper focused and thrashing as it hurdled toward you. with no time to think and hardly any time to move, you wielded your gun but the creature was faster than you, stronger than you.

your body slammed against the door, knocking it open and you nearly fell backwards which allowed you to slip through the infected's grasp as it thrashed for you. immediately footsteps pounded through the house and gunshots rang in your ears, the stalker lying at your feet.

dazed and trembling as if you were frostbitten, you stared down at the infected unmoving as ellie quickly pulled you into her arms.

"hey, hey," she reassured you, checking over your body quickly just in case for any marks, but you had been saved.

"ellie," your voice wobbled, but you quickly blinked back any tears. you wanted to just dust yourself off and move on, strong and brave like you always promised ellie you would be. she worried so much, and you didn't want to actually give her a reason to worry but despite your efforts, you found yourself falling apart in her arms.

ellie held onto you, tightening her grip with every shaky breath that escaped your mouth. "it's alright, i've got you. i've always got you," she mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

you stayed like that only for a moment, too anxious to make another mistake. you quickly gathered your bearings and decided to call it on patrol, ellie gripping your hand as you left the house together. she helped as you hoisted yourself up onto tulip, only letting go of your hand and returning to her own horse when you were firmly grabbing the reins.

ellie was in autopilot, checking in with you and mumbling directions as you rode quickly and carefully to Jackson. the obnoxious sunshine only made your tears look more obvious on your cheeks and you roughly wiped them away with your sleeve, not wanting to appear as pathetic as you felt.

ellie grew increasingly more quiet, only quickly squeezing your hand once you made it back to safety. without a word she moved to stable shimmer, and a horrible feeling washed over you. she was acting as if she were mad, and you couldn't blame her. you remained at tulip's side, stroking your horse as you watched your girlfriend wordlessly move around the stable.

"i'm so sorry," you whispered, and ellie froze once you broke the silence. her back was to you, and you almost expected her to simply ignore you, or to start into a lecture, even though ellie would swear she wasn't always like joel, all you heard were reflections of his words in her careful pleas.

"i don't know what happened, it was so dumb and it happened so fast, ellie, so fast and i had my gun out but-"

ellie slowly turned to face you, and the look of guilt was evidently written all over her face. you abruptly cut yourself off, feeling even more awful than before.

she tried not to often reflect the losses that she had experienced, but even as strong as ellie was, it wasn't something that could be buried. even when the wildflowers start to bloom again and the skies turn blue, the threat of potentially losing someone that you love was hidden in every corner, ready to jump out and completely envelop you at any given moment, any small slip or mistake. it was nearly maddening, not knowing if that could be the last time you ever hear someone's voice. her losses were her failures, and she refused to let you be one of them.

shame and worry took over you, your eyebrows drawing together as ellie stared at you, shaking her head before starting towards you. ellie quickly pulled you into her arms once more, furiously blinking away her own tears. "i can't believe i almost lost you," she whispered into your hair, to which you quickly drew back.

"hey," you started, relieved that she wasn't upset but devastated by her confession. "i'm okay ellie, i'm not going anywhere, i promise," you reassured her.

"i know," ellie pressed. "that will never happen again," she spoke, half telling you and half telling herself. "i promise, nothing will ever happen to you."

you yearned to make ellie the same promise over and over, but you knew it wasn't the time. you allowed her to dote over you for the rest of the evening, her hand never leaving yours, not even while you had dinner. with every quiet check-in of a whispered, "are you okay?" you would nod and squeeze her hand, allowing her to look after you because you knew it was what she needed, to feel competent and to prove to herself that she was capable of protecting the one that she loves.

[waterghoulcalamity]

a little lengthy but here are my predictions (or maybe expectations, in some cases) for next season of iwtv:

just like "the vampire lestat" begins with lestat reading interview with the vampire, the season is going to begin with louis reading lestat's book and possibly going to find lestat again

i wasn't sure if they were going to change the format of 2 time periods happening at the same time (the interview in louis apartment and the story and louis was telling) but i feel like it's the best way to do it, idk if they're going to have daniel interview lestat but i think it'd be interesting if they had lestat kind of post something he recorded of himself, am i the only one??

TW for SA // i believe they're going to go as far as they can with lestat's turning. some people say that lestat's SA in the books is purely metaphorical (because no penetration happens) but i would say no, that it is very explicit, biting is supposed to be this infinitively more intimate and pleasurable act than sex for BOTH the vampire and the victim in the books (because vampires can't have boners, apparently) and, since the whole reason magnus chooses lestat is because of his looks, i think we should be prepared for not only lestat's turning scene to be even worse than it was in the books, but the entirety of his stay with magnus as well, i won't go into detail of what happened but, well, you know

i think they will have lestat kill his father, which will give a whole new layer to lestat letting louis and claudia "kill" him, accepting louis knife in his throat. sam has said multiple times that his "death" was kind of a wake up call for lestat because he had been living at the peak of his chaotic behavior for too long, so i think it'd be interesting if they did that, because it would also make more painful why he never looked for louis and claudia, as in saying "i had to kill my own father and it was painful for me despite the fact that i hated him, and now i push you to go through the same pain because of my actions, i can't face you"

i hope, i HOPE, that they drop the incest with his mother. i think there are many ways they can make their relationship uncomfortably close without having resort to incest, please rolin i'm begging you

i'm manifesting that this season is going to be 12-15 episodes long, i'm willing to wait until 2026 for 12-15 episodes

pleaaaaseeee i want louis and lestat to be in that awkward "we are trying to be friends" stage but failing miserably because they're too possessive and could never be normal about each other

i think they're going to have armand find lestat at least briefly after the release of his book, it's going to be fun seeing what they have to say to each other. i don't quite think it's going to be like in the books were armand begs lestat to love him and let him stay with him but i do think they're going to keep some of those elements

speaking of armand, i think they're going to revisit that scene in magnus's tower with the three of them and they're going to reveal that armand was in lestat's head BEGGING him to go with lestat or something of that nature, like saying that all of this could've been avoided if lestat had loved him and it still could if he did, but lestat continued to reject him as he always did. idk if it was just me but i find assad's face in those scenes to be telling a story we don't quite understand yet

back to them meeting again in the modern times, i think armand is going to tell lestat about daniel and lestat is going to genuinely be happy for him (because they do keep a sort of friendship in the books after everything)

well, that is all. this thoughts keep circling my mind i think i needed to put them to rest, hopefully this will be enough but probably the only thing that can is s3 being released in this instant

[omniuravity]

I'm gonna rate all the songs in Hazbin Hotel in order from my least favorite to my favorite.

@bloodypeachblog @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered

12. It Starts With Sorry (Episode 2)

This song isn't bad, I just hate how sappy it is. It doesn't help that it's in the same episode as Stayed Gone which is one of my favorites.

11. Whatever It Takes (Episode 3)

Again, I don't hate it I just don't think it's as strong as the rest of the songs. I personally wasn't a fan of the songs in Episode 3, they just weren't as strong as the rest.

10. Welcome To Heaven (Episode 6)

It's not nearly as strong as the other song in the episode. It's pretty good though and reminds me of Happy Day In Hell, which I think was the point.

9. You Didn't Know (Episode 6)

This song is super emotional, but it has way too many story beats within the song and takes me for a ride. It is a powerful song towards the end, but idk it just doesn't hit as hard.

8. Happy Day In Hell (Episode 1)

It's a pretty good first song for the show. I'm just not a fan 🤷🏻‍♀️

7. Respectless (Episode 3)

It sounds like something I'd hear on the radio, which sometimes work but I just wasn't a fan. The only reason this song is so high is because I like Velvette's singing voice.

6. Hell's Greatest Dad (Episode 5)

This episode has two strong songs, and this one is definitely one of my favorites. I love the banter between Lucifer and Alastor. Personally the only thing I dislike about this song is Mimzy's entrance at the end, but I suppose it ends the song.

5. Hell Is Forever (Episode 1)

I love that it's a reprise of Happy Day In Hell, but also Alex Brightman is great at rock musical theatre. It's honestly just a bop. Guitar solo, fuck yeah!

4. Poison (Episode 4)

In my opinion this song is like Addict the sequel. This song is so passionate and strong that it just has to be one of my favorites. This is a reflection of not only Angel Dust as a character, but also the industry he works in.

3. Stayed Gone (Episode 2)

It's so good! It's a double villain song (even though Alastor is technically a protagonist). I am a sucker for a good villain song. Also, as someone who is studying music the A B B A format works really well for me. It's also super jazzy which fits both Vox and Alastor.

2. More Than Anything (Episode 5)

This song made me cry. This song is a testament to Lucifer as a character, as well as his love for his daughter. I am a SUCKER for emotional songs, and this one hit me in the gut.

1. Loser, Baby (Episode 4)

I LOVE Keith David's singing voice especially since I grew up with Princess and the Frog. Not only that, but it's a good start to the slow burn that HuskerDust is supposed to be. I also love that Husk calling "baby" is derogatory and as the song progresses it becomes friendly and loving.

[cafeseoulmate]

Why We (Don’t) Work

i'm okay with being by your side for as long as i can hide what if i told you that i've fallen?

featuring: music major!beomgyu x fine arts major!gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst, childhood best friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers au, idiots to lovers au, high school au, college au, band au, hurt/comfort, slice of life, slowburn, mutual pining, 5+1 & nonlinear format

wc: 13k

warnings and other notes: cursing, alcohol consumption, reader is implied bi/pan, two jokes about murder, mention of the flu, brief mention of making out, cliches, inaccurate portrayal of a painting & sculpture double major, idk where this was going tbh

I. WE'VE BEEN FRIENDS FOR TOO LONG

The idea of friends eventually becoming lovers, especially those who have known each other for a long time, is okay in your opinion. In theory, the principle of falling in love with someone whom you've previously built a relationship with is not that great but not that awful either.

It's reasonable, practical and natural even in many situations. You would know from the amount of friends you've watched over the years who only started seeing each other romantically after a few years of getting to know and being comfortable around each other platonically.

You just figure that it's not for you and Choi Beomgyu, the nuisance who's been affectionately stuck to your hip since your days at the neighborhood playground.

For starters, you've known him for far too long. Not that love is supposed to have an expiration date, it's just that most people who start off friends—like your college friends Yeji and Ryujin who started dating before your junior year—usually take less than a decade, and that is really pushing it in your humble opinion.

Beomgyu's known you since the time you were sporting bowl cuts your mom fashioned with your kitchen scissors, probably and unconsciously even longer than that given that your respective moms have also been close friends since you were toddlers. You've pushed each other at the swings and the slides more than any of your other childhood friends, have gone to the same schools together spent most of your non-holidays with each other since kindergarten, and even live in the same university dorm at the present.

You both had almost 16 years to bring up anything remotely close to romantic feelings with each other and the closest to romantic-leaning affection that you got from him was the time he gave you a bouquet of roses, and he didn't even buy it for you originally.

It was in your 10th grade, when Valentine's Day gifts have finally reached normal status among the consciousness of your teen peers. Since Halloween, Beomgyu had been saving up his money to buy Yeeun from Class 4 a bouquet of roses—bribing you to pay for his lunch two out of five days in the week, singing and dancing his ass off at his family's Christmas and Lunar New Year parties for money, and working the afternoon shift at the neighborhood guitar store—only to chicken out at the last minute because Jaehyun from Class 6 had asked Yeeun to be his girlfriend in a very public proposal at the soccer field.

In a small class reunion last Christmas, Taehyun had asked about the whole ordeal, supported by the drunk cheerings of your former classmates at the memory of Beomgyu handing you the abnormally large bouquet by the school gate during dismissal almost five years ago.

"What else do you want to know about that?" You asked with a frown, feeling light-headed from all the barbecue and soju yourself. It was finals week for most of you as well, somehow making all the shots of peach-flavored alcohol taste sweeter and the stories bitterer. "You all know how it went: Gyu chickened out and didn't want to waste his hard-earned money on a girl who got a boyfriend that same day so he gave it to me before we went home."

"You also gave me half of the money to buy it! That's also an important detail!" Beomgyu slurred out to your right, leaning his head on your arm with a giggle and making you roll your eyes. "I thought, 'ya, this person bought me lunch for three months they kind of bought this bouquet so I'll just give it to them. That's only fair!'"

Yunjin raised a finger this time, as if making a shushing motion in the air as she took a long sip of her soju bottle across the table. "Okay but!" She exclaimed after slamming her bottle down, momentarily covering her mouth as she hiccuped before continuing. "You...you could've just gave it to your mom or something!"

"Auntie's allergic to flowers." You pointed out. "My dad also forgot to buy my mom flowers that time so I gave it to him when I got home. I technically saved two lives that day.”

"So it didn't spark anything?" Jeongin pointed to you then to Beomgyu who was contemplating on falling asleep on you by that point, clearly uninterested in this conversation you've had with the rest of the world a million times already. "Not even a little bit?"

Of course there were times over the years, at least on your part—moments where Beomgyu spent an hour too long in your childhood home when he just told you that his parents wanted him to come home at a certain time, filled a day with questionably sweet gestures only to bribe you with trouble after, or comforted you too well in your darkest moments among others that made your heart flutter more than it's supposed to.

You never told anyone about how on that day, you plucked out a single rose from the bouquet before secretly handing it to your dad as he cooked a quick Valentine's Day dinner for your mom. There was no denying that, even if he gave it to you under pitiful circumstances, it was still a sweet gesture. After Yeeun, he thought of giving it to you, the next immediate person and his best friend.

The red rose drank fresh water by your windowsill for three days until Beomgyu invited himself over for a cram session when you ended up hiding the flower shamefully under your bed and convincing yourself that you were just momentarily blinded by the principle of the gesture.

Though it accidentally wilted after you've forgotten about it amidst your busy high school schedule, you still keep the petals in a box under your bed as a reminder of all those moments you've thought you were starting to feel something for your best friend, only to snap yourself out of it after. You even had one of the petals made into a resin necklace by Yeji when she picked up on the hobby, wearing it everyday since without Beomgyu ever asking about it’s significance.

He just thinks you got it from the congratulatory bouquet the boys all pitched in to give when you won a sculpting competition at the university museum.

But as mentioned, you've mostly come to terms with the fact that you've known Beomgyu long enough to let a lot of opportunities to pass by, even if it pains you. Though romantic love doesn’t have to have an expiration date, you think you’ve been around your best friend long enough to know and accept that nothing is going to happen.

So to keep up appearances, you shook your head in front of your demanding friends that night at the reunion and teasingly pushed the sleeping Beomgyu to Taehyun's shoulder, much to everyone's disappointment.

"I've known him for all my life, literally. If something remotely romantic were to happen, it should've happened years ago." You grimaced before downing another shot of peach soju, that particular shot stinging a bit too much for your liking.

"But that's, like, the tricky thing with friends: you never really know when things are starting to be something else with one or both people." Sieun pointed out with a pout.

"Oh, I can assure you, it's not like that with us." You waved your hand dismissively in response before quickly going back to gathering your next mouthful of lettuce wrap. “Anyway, you guys have known us pretty well too. We just don’t match that way.”

Next to you, Beomgyu groaned seemingly in agreement as he stirred on Taehyun's shoulder, moving to lean on you again. "You're all so fucking noisy." He mumbled on the nook of your neck, hands encircling around your waist as he then pointed at the jug of water on the table. “If Y/N says it's not like that then it's not like that. So let me sleep and let Y/N eat their food!"

You shrugged at Sieun and Yunjin, smoothly shifting the conversation's focus to Sieun after before filling in a glass of water for Beomgyu as he’s requested.

"You're going to have a nasty hangover later, you know." You pointed out to him, making sure to keep your voice low knowing that he's sensitive to noise when he's drunk.

"You'll take care of me." He replied confidently with a boyish grin, more as a statement than a question. "Can I sleep over your dorm later? Hyuka won't let me in the room like this and Ryujin's already on vacation anyway."

You then rolled your eyes, knowing full well that you don’t have a choice anyway. "Sure, sure."

II. WE HAVE SHIT TASTE IN PEOPLE (AND IT WOULD BE AN INSULT TO OURSELVES IF WE START LIKING EACH OTHER)

The first time someone directly and publicly questioned Beomgyu's relationship with you, however, was at the traditional secret gathering your classmates had arranged in your two-day senior retreat just four years ago. On that night, after a whole day of tedious team-building activities and an evening of getting lectured by your teachers on house rules, most of Class 2 gathered at the boys' shared room for swiped alcohol and midnight snacks.

At that time, it was Daehwi who had asked and the context was the equally traditional game of truth or dare. When Beomgyu was picked for the second time that night, he surprisingly chose truth, prompting the question everyone has apparently been asking among themselves.

"Would you date Y/N?"

Beomgyu laughed. It was always his instinct to laugh whenever his own relatives asked the same question or when you would tell your own similar experiences but also because he saw you throwing your head back in laughter as well from where you were seated between Yunjin and Ryujin.

But what really solidifies this question as an inside joke between the two of you was the time when you watched When Harry Met Sally together at a sleepover in Beomgyu's house a year before the class retreat.

It was the classic friends to lovers romcom that you ended up watching in that particular sleepover in the first place because Yunjin mentioned that it reminded her of you and Beomgyu. So of course it had to be brought up before you could accidentally fall asleep on Beomgyu that night, you pointing to Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan before smacking Beomgyu in the head and asking the exact same question the boy would face at the senior retreat.

"Without thinking about all the gross couple shit like kissing or whatever," You gagged between your question, making Beomgyu roll his eyes and scoff. "would you date me?"

"First of all: gross—"

"That's why I said without all the couple stuff!"

"Still gross! Why would you think of that question!"

Back to the class retreat, once Beomgyu had calmed down from laughing and before Jeongin or Hueningkai could start leading the teasing on how you and your best friend reacted to the question in the same way at the same time, he said, "Y/N has shit taste in people. It'd be an insult to myself if they start liking me, even more if we do date."

You laughed even harder, repeating the words back to him. "Ya, you have shit taste in people too!"

Daehwi almost did a whole spit take with his glass of Cola while hearing your exchange. "Damn, you two are brutal with each other!"

Taehyun told Beomgyu later on that he felt as if that particular answer could be misinterpreted as the latter being mean to you. But your best friend was quick to explain that it's something you actually talked about in the aforementioned sleepover. You also backed him up on this over breakfast the next day when you sat with the two boys.

On the night of your sleepover, after you asked the question and Beomgyu was done making his teasing disgusted faces in front of you, he had said the exact same words for the first time and even elaborated on it.

And like Daehwi, you also almost did a spit take hearing it for the first time but your own glass of hot chocolate.

"You had a crush on Yeonjun two years ago before he was cool and you dated that annoying what's-her-name from the softball team who, by the way, cheated on you before you could even celebrate 100 days." The blunt 11th-grader Beomgyu said in front of your surprised face on that sleepover. "Ah, and don't get me started on that time you were swooning over that asshole Taejoon from Class 7 last semester because he sat next to you on the bus when I got the flu? You were crushing on a guy who thought he was jack shit and played with a lot of girls while I was almost dying in the hospital! Shit taste and inconsiderate!"

You and Beomgyu also did not forget to mention to Taehyun about how you almost smothered Beomgyu to death with a pillow in response, pausing the movie so Meg Ryan didn't have to see the crime you were about to do before tackling your best friend on the bed.

"Hey, Yeonjun's cool and Minji from softball really is an asshole but I didn't know Taejoon had a reputation in Class 7 back then! I just thought he was cute and really polite to the old ladies and the kids on the bus!" You retorted aggressively, smacking Beomgyu's face repeatedly with the Hello Kitty pillow he lent you for that night. "And I visited you with the boys and Yunjin after school while you were sick to catch you up in class, you ungrateful brat! I have shit taste but I'll never be inconsiderate to you!

"While we're at it, you also have shit taste, mind you! Pining after girls like Yeeun and Rina right when they start dating other people! Ah, and you dated that girl, Areum, in the 9th grade too even when everyone kept telling you that she was trying to get to Soobin through you! Shit taste and idiotic!"

Your college years would not spare the both of you from having more strings of failed romantic relationships just as much as it did not stop all the questions from friends, both new and old, about Beomgyu's relationship with you so the answer always remained the same: both of you have shit taste in people so dating each other would be somehow insults to yourselves.

But there are times, of course, when it would just be you and Beomgyu alone and, instead of the usual jokes and banter, he allows himself to be just slightly honest for the sake of his sanity and to make sure that you never feel as if he has some hidden ill-intent in always jokingly bringing up the uglier sides of your dating history.

In another sleepover at his house last summer, he didn't fight you when you decide on watching My Best Friend's Wedding and blurted out halfway, "As your own best friend, I think you deserve the best."

Though no one did a spit take this time, you did momentarily freeze while trying to tuck yourself in under the weighted blanket you were sharing. On his laptop perched comfortably on a foldable table, the movie was coincidentally at the part where Julia Roberts was delivering the iconic, "Choose Me” speech.

“I'll have to say this quick or I'm just going to have this massive coronary and then you'll never hear it and.....and....you have to. This is, by far the dumbest thing I've ever done in my entire life.” Julia Roberts dramatically delivered on the laptop screen as if filling in the silence. “Ugh—so dumb in fact—uh—that I can't...... oh but I'm gonna.”

“What’s wrong?” Her male lead, Dermont Mulroney, asked and Beomgyu felt like he should be asking that question to you when your silence started dragging on for too long.

When you did regain your composure, you chuckled nervously. "I-I mean yeah, I know, but...what's with that all of a sudden?" You furrowed your brows up at him.

And like he was mirroring you, Beomgyu also paused for a moment as he too contemplated on why he said it out of nowhere.

Meanwhile, Julia Roberts just continued delivering her lines flawlessly, filling in the silence between the two of you. “Michael......I love you. I've loved you for nine years. I've just been too arrogant and scared to realize it and, well, now I'm just scared. So I, I......realize that this comes at a very inopportune time. But I really have this gigantic favor to ask of you.” Though the sound coming in on your respective earphones was only at 75%, suddenly it felt louder the longer that Beomgyu didn't speak. “Choose me? Marry me. Let me make you happy.”

Beomgyu scratched the nape of his neck and smiled sheepishly, turning away for a second as you finally pause the movie and the light illuminates the side of his face a little too brightly.

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re gonna pull a Julia Roberts right now. You know—“

“What? No!"

“Then answer the question!”

"I just remembered, you know, how we always say that we won't date each other because we both have shitty taste in people and everything." He shrugged when he did explain himself, unconsciously sinking lower on the bed as he pressed his back harder on the bed frame behind you. "And I know it's a joke and all but I—I also think that you deserve better than someone like me...or Yeonjun, Soobin, Tae, and Hyuka.

“Though I guess it is hard to find someone better than us, especially me and Soobin, I think you should still look for someone who’s really kind, smart, and will never give you a hard time. You deserve someone who looks out for you and makes you feel like home but also like you’re flying.

“Someone who’s funny too but not too funny to upstage me! Just enough to get you through the dark times because you do get really stressed out these days. I—I don’t know, I guess I was just thinking about—about that, yeah…”

You relaxed your expression as he spoke, though a small pout remained. "Okay..." You pressed play on the laptop again with a laugh. "Random but okay.”

“I give my whole heart out to you in a speech and that’s all you have to say?”

“What else do you want me to say?” You scoffed and playfully nudged him away, earning you a dramatic wince from him. "With how you generally act around people I like, it's not that hard to figure out that it's because you think this way."

“Yeah but, I don’t know, maybe say it back to me too and comfort my lonely, lonely heart?” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in response.

“I think that’s a you problem. We all tell you to just get yourself out there then you reject every person who throws themself at you.”

The boy feigned a glare next. “I’m going to kill you in your sleep later.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes, moving carefully on the bed to face him fully. “You deserve someone infinitely better than me too. Someone gorgeous—not just pretty!—and smart enough to keep your dumbass in check and just overall awesome, but not too awesome, of course! I’m literally the coolest person you’ll ever meet…ever!”

"Oh you flatter me, Y/N!" He exclaimed dramatically with his hands to his chest, smiling when you snorted and turned your attention back to the laptop again to press play on the movie.

Though he partly thinks otherwise—that it’s impossible that there’s someone out there infinitely better than you overall—he does agree that you are the coolest person in his life.

"You're so annoying." You mumbled under your breath and he quickly retaliated by pinching your cheek affectionately. "Ya!"

"You love me."

"I know right, how will I even find someone better than you?" You teased but Beomgyu's observant enough to understand that you only mean it halfway.

"Maybe you won't?" He teased back with a wink. "I know for sure no one's better than you."

"Shut up."

III. WE ARE EXTREME OPPOSITES (AND WE ANNOY EACH OTHER A LOT)

If you were to be asked about the things that annoy you about Beomgyu and vice versa, you both would probably need a month of preparation and a year each just to list everything you've come up with. Sure, you’ve known each other for a long enough time to be comfortable in each other’s presence but that doesn’t make everyday perfect as there are still instances when you get the undeniable urge to smack him in the head or dropkick him for being insufferable.

If you were to make a top five shortlist, however, the fact that Beomgyu has no concept of personal space when it comes to you would take the cake—pinching your cheeks, holding your hand whenever a remotely attractive person passes you by, always putting his legs on top of yours, hugging you to death, and always headlocking you when you meet up among others.

But beyond that, ever since he got comfortable with initiating skinship with you around the 3rd grade, he's also somehow managed to convince himself that he had the right to be all up in your personal business too even when you didn't want him to—from simple things like stealing your food, spamming you with messages the second you don't reply as quickly as he'd like, to always having insisting that he accompanies you whenever you mention going to a new place, online stalking anyone you find interesting, randomly popping up at the studio in the Fine Arts department, and loosely keeping tabs on people you hang out with.

There have been times, however, when Beomgyu’s nosiness has actually saved you from a date or unwanted attention in public and even comforted you. In elementary and high school, whenever you’re allowed to pick groupmates, he’s always ready with gossip about everyone’s work ethic for some reason. Whenever a creep at the mall or at a party would try to hit on you, he’s always by your side ready with a glare and all intent to report the creep to the authorities. And even when he’s a shit drunk, he’s always aware enough to defend you whenever your friends pick on you.

But more importantly, as the more reserved person between the two of you, Beomgyu’s always the one who’s forcing you to open up to at least one person when you’re down (aka him).

The first sleepover that the two of you ever had was in the 6th grade when Beomgyu invited himself over to your house and stayed up with you until 3 AM to finish a Science project your three other groupmates basically gave up on. You never asked him to do it, just complained about it over lunch once, then suddenly he was barging in your house with his own stationary and your Science teacher already notified of how your groupmates have been slacking the past two weeks.

“Why did you do that?” You pouted after turning in your finished paper online. Fortunately for the two of you that time, it was a Friday and sleeping in wasn’t going to be an issue, especially for 6th grader Beomgyu who had the tendency to sleep the whole day. “I could’ve just told Mrs. Kim on Monday myself.”

Beomgyu shrugged as he fluffed the pillows and arranged your plushies on the bed. He hasn’t had his sudden growth spurt at that time so fitting in your old bed frame was still fairly easy then. “Knowing you and how long your groupmates have been bailing on you, you’d probably chicken out if Yunjin or I don’t do it ourselves or push you to do it.”

“No—“

“You know I’m right.“

You glared at him then, standing up from your desk to punch his arm. “I hate you.”

But he only rolled his eyes. “Then next time, I’ll try to not meddle that much anymore. Just…when our classmates are taking advantage of your kindness like this again, report it immediately, okay?” He nagged, his voice soft while his expression was determined. “Even if you don’t tell me directly, I know you’ve been having a hard time with that even more this year for some reason and, knowing you, you’d rather suck it up because you think you’re bothering people when you bring it up when you’re not.”

“That’s not true.”

“Y/N.” He squinted his eyes and pursed his lips.

You scoffed, climbing in the bed and laying down on the side next to the wall. “Okay, maybe sometimes it’s true.”

“Y/N.” He repeated your name in the same tone, lying next to you with your teddy bear in his arms. "Ms. Fluffy doesn't think so and I kind of agree with her."

You rolled your eyes in response, Beomgyu catching the gesture before he could turn off your bedside lamp. “Fine, fine. I admit it, I wasn’t—I wasn’t planning to tell Mrs. Kim because I thought my groupmates would get mad and think of me as a nuisance.” You winced at the admission, lifting your blanket up to your nose.

But Beomgyu was quick to stop your hand, flicking your forehead after. “Stop doing that. You literally did half of your paper, even the parts you weren’t assigned to. You’re far from a nuisance.” He retorted, tucking Ms. Fluffy the teddy bear next to you. “And Mrs. Kim’s job is literally to make sure we’re not having a hard time learning, she’d understand.”

That time, and most times when Beomgyu would be the one nagging you, you felt like shrinking under his fierce gaze. “I don’t want to get into trouble with anyone in class—“

“I’d fight anyone off for you if that happens."

“But I can handle myself if ever!”

“Now, you’re just contradicting yourself.” He pointed out with a chuckle, settling down next to you. “Just...next time, okay? You should never suffer in silence by choice, you’re better than that.”

You had no choice but to nod in agreement and fulfill your promise that very next Monday, talking to Mrs. Kim yourself to elaborate on the incident further with Beomgyu holding your hand the entire time.

Most of the time, it's sweet and thoughtful that your best friend looks out for you out of genuine concern. You can’t admit it to his face, knowing he’ll tease you endlessly for it, but you like Beomgyu having his full attention on you most of the time and how he can literally rival your family as the person who knows you best.

But alas, there are still numerous instances when it's caused you more harm than good to disastrous levels.

At the top of your head, there was that incident in the summer before your sophomore year when Yeji first set you up on a blind date with Theo, a friend of a friend from the Vocal Performance department.

You even made sure that Beomgyu wouldn't get anywhere near your bowling date, threatening all of your mutual friends to keep the agenda a secret over message (and free food for Taehyun and Hueningkai) and scheduling the date on the same weekend Beomgyu was going to take an exam for one of his summer classes.

However, when Theo briefly left you alone in your lane to buy snacks, a familiar mop of brown hair, black hoodie, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses suddenly whooshed in your peripheral vision, followed by two figures in hoodies you unmasked at the end of the night as Yeonjun and Soobin.

Another annoying thing that Beomgyu does is that when he’s “investigating” something—whether it’s a friend’s date or that time everyone thought Taehyun was secretly seeing someone—he always brings the same get-up of hoodie and thick-rimmed glasses along as "disguise." It's a stupid idea that first came to him when Yunjin went on her very first date in high school that he never bothered to change even when everyone started catching on, making it easier to spot him in your surroundings.

Though he didn't approach you until you approached him back in your dorms, it was still unnerving to spot him, Yeonjun, and Soobin playing five lanes away from you and your date. Their glances felt heavy on your back as the night went on.

"He was literally in two of your classes last semester. It's not like he's some stranger to you." You frowned at Beomgyu after letting Yeonjun and Soobin go with an earful of a speech of their own. Though you and Theo agreed that you clicked better as friends, you still lectured and nagged at your three friends in your dorm's communal kitchen with Beomgyu staying an hour longer than the other two. "How did you even get to the bowling alley? I thought you have an exam tonight?"

"My exam was only until 7 PM so I got Yeonjun to drive us to the bowling alley as soon as I got out. It was a celebratory thing for me too! That English final really kicked me in the ass, if you must know." Beomgyu answered with a pout, hands deep in his hoodie pockets and his glasses slipping on his nose. "And even if I do know Theo in passing, I don't know him that way. He’s more Yeji’s friend than mine. What if he was a shit dude when it comes to dates? What if he stood you up tonight or something?"

"You say that for all the people I like."

Beomgyu waved his hand dismissively in defense. "I only say that to the objectively trashy ones and the ones I don’t know enough about. Theo’s under the second category.”

"Still! You get what I mean!" You frowned as you smacked him on the back of his head, earning you a wince from him. "Gyu, once, just one date where you leave me alone. No disguises and no spam texts. Can you do that?"

There's a long pause that followed after with Beomgyu opening his mouth a couple of times only to close it back again, keeping you on edge for what felt like forever but was only for around five minutes.

He never told you what he was going to say at first or if he was even thinking of something else to say, you can just easily infer that it's different from what he actually ended up saying with the way his expression softened right before he finally spoke.

"Only if you tell me more about these things before you actually go on them. Even just the basic things are fine.” He frowned this time, crossing his arms. Even without you scanning every inch of his face, his expression easily gave away to the fact that he was thinking of saying something else but was trying his best to hold back. “I’m...I'm worried, okay? I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

"You know I can handle myself. We've been through this hundreds of times, I'm not that kid from the 4th grade who couldn't tell on my shit groupmates." You interjected, crossing your arms in front of the taller boy. "Anyway, if I ever need help, you're always the first one I'll call, you already know that."

He pouted down at you. "Sure?"

And you nodded with a laugh at his ridiculous expression, uncrossing your arms as you couldn't fight the amusement creeping up on you whenever Beomgyu tries to act cute anymore. "Positive."

So on the next two blind dates that Yeji set up for you that summer, you were pretty sure that Beomgyu only kept tabs on you through text as the hoodie and glasses were nowhere to be seen when you and your dates went out.

♡

On Beomgyu’s end, if he were to pick a top one habit of yours that he finds the most annoying it would be your tendency to hide your artworks from him until it’s finished when he’s always showing you his drafts.

Much like how you often try hiding your burdens, troubles, and blind dates from him, you often ban Beomgyu from seeing your drafts and sketches until the work itself is done which, as a fellow artist, makes him want to sneak up on you even more.

Especially when you think that you’ll be working on a particular project for a long time or if it’s in a medium you haven’t tried before, you’d often be blocking Beomgyu from seeing a peek of your plans out of a weird superstition that you might not finish anything if you hear a comment from him too early.

As your musician best friend who’s always showing you his own work even when it’s still disjointed lyrics and melodies in his head, Beomgyu sometimes thinks that you don’t trust him enough in something important as your own art. Without you knowing, it hurts him a bit sometimes because it’s as if he can’t be useful for you in that sense when you're always his most trusted critic when it comes to his music.

“It’s not like I can possibly make a bad comment.” Beomgyu insisted sometime during midterms as you talked over your senior thesis projects over dinner. It was almost 2 AM in your dorm’s communal kitchen, your mugs only half-filled with lukewarm chocolate when the boy asked if he could take a peek at your sketchbook after letting you hear some of his new music. “With you and your art? Impossible to make any bad comments I’m telling you!”

“Eh, but—“ Maybe it was the tiredness from having been up for 24 hours straight, trying to stay on top of your piling requirements, that unlike your usual response to Beomgyu’s pouting and puppy eyes, you decided to blurt out, “I just—I don’t know…I think too highly of your opinion.”

Beomgyu was effectively rendered frozen and speechless, missing the way you slouched your shoulders and hid your face behind your hair after your confession. “I—what?”

“Don’t make me repeat it.” You deadpanned, taking another sip of your chocolate next to him. At least with your shoulders touching, you couldn't see the way his expression unconsciously softened while listening to you. "It's already embarrassing enough as it is."

“But…but why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you think highly of my opinion? It’s just me.” Beomgyu chuckled nervously, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment as he spoke. “Not like I’m a professional artist or whatever.”

“Do I really have to say it?”

Beomgyu nodded, pursing his lips. "I'm being serious right now." He pretended to squint his eyes and furrow his brows and you rolled your eyes in response.

With a sigh, you then answered. “It’s exactly because you’re you. You’re Choi Beomgyu, the annoying kid from the neighborhood who just decided one day that he’d join me at the plastic tables in the playground when he saw me drawing flowers on my mom's notepad. The one who bought me my first oil paint set for Christmas in the 7th grade because he said he noticed how much I enjoyed it in our Art class. The one who always adds more compliments to my work along with actually helpful feedback even when I ask for criticisms only because he’s too nice for his own good but he’s also very intuitive.

“You…annoying as it is, you’re kind of very important in my art and it makes me nervous sometimes to show you anything before it’s complete because I think it has to be perfect and totally not disappointing even when you first see it. I only want you to see good things from me...”

While the silence that followed felt like an hour for you, it felt like forever in Beomgyu's mind as his thoughts flew to the memories as you mentioned them.

Much like you, he can also vividly remember how exactly you befriended each other at the playground then, when he complimented your doodle of the daisy bushes by the swings because you drew them a little too well for a five-year-old with broken crayons and an unsharpened pencil. You even complained to him that you can render the flowers better if you just didn't forget your sharpener at home, leading to a whole conversation that you continued at the swings where he offered to push you for the rest of that afternoon.

He remembers that 7th grade Christmas when he picked your name for the class Secret Santa and didn't even have to read more on the wishlist below your name because he was already set on buying you an oil paint set and some brushes to go with it outside of the classroom. He knew you were saving up to buy it in the summer yourself but he also knew that it'd make you even happier to get it six months earlier so it was easy for him to take money from his own savings that were supposed to go on a new ukulele.

But more importantly, his mind lingers to a memory you didn't mention, to that day outside of the teacher's lounge when you were first filling in your college applications. While your other friends were talking animatedly about what they were planning to do after your high school graduation, you were unusually quiet next to Beomgyu as you filled out your application which quickly prompted him to ask if you were okay.

"What did you put in your program?" He had asked after, leaning his head on your shoulder only for you to cover the top half of your application with your hands. "Ya, I want to see!"

"No, it's embarrassing!" You protested, moving the form away from his peering eyes when his hand tries to reach for it. "You'll know later anyway if I pass Seoul University!"

"You mean 'when' you pass." He corrected, resting his chin on your shoulder this time before peering up at you. "And why are you embarrassed over your program? It's not the most embarrassing choice you've made in front of me."

"Ya!"

"So what is it?"

You leaned away from him and Beomgyu found it weirdly strange to be on eye-level with you while seated after he's suddenly grown almost a head taller than you over the summer. "I might...do a double degree on Painting and Sculpture."

"What's embarrassing about that? If anything, I'd be surprised if those two are nowhere near your top five options." He raised a brow almost instinctively. "Y/N, a double degree's impressive as hell!"

"It's just that..." You stumbled shyly over your words, scratching the nape of your neck. "I don't know, it's a shot in the dark. It's not like I'm that good like how you're great with your music."

"That's bullshit. You've always been talented and hardworking when it comes to your art. If anything, it's me who's always trying to catch up with you." He countered immediately, sitting up straight with a serious expression on his face. "And it's something you love and want to learn more of so why would it be embarrassing? Be confident and own your passions, Y/N."

"They might not actually see that if I don't do well in the exams and the portfolio I turn in. For all we know, I suck compared to other people."

"You literally just won a mural competition last summer." Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "Admissions would be dumb to reject you."

Looking back on that memory almost four years ago, the revelation of what you really think of him makes Beomgyu's head spin that he had to quickly snap himself back to reality when you downed the last of your chocolate and mumbled how opening up was a mistake to yourself.

"I'm going to bed." You announced, rubbing your eyes tiredly and clutching your mug to your chest.

Before you could leave the table, however, Beomgyu quickly grabs onto your arm. "Wait, wait, no!"

"I'm tired as shit. You can rub my emotional comments on my face tomorrow morning."

"It's not that." Beomgyu frowned, tugging on your arm for you to sit down again. When you hesitantly follow along with him, he then continued, "It's just...is that why you tried hiding your application form from me back then?"

"I mean, I wasn't as confident in myself then as I am now and I had my other doubts about taking the program itself but...yeah, I guess." You shrugged slowly, looking everywhere but him. "I also thought that if I take both Painting and Sculpture, I have to make you proud no matter what."

On any other day, he would've teased you for it but he knew you'd probably smack his head on the table in that moment. So, instead, he held back on a smile and nudged you gently on the shoulder. "You make me proud no matter what you do." He assured. "And, if you must know, I also think highly of your opinion on my music...I guess we just show it in different ways.

"And if you're not ready to show me some of your new projects yet, it's okay. I can wait for all of them because I know they'll all turn out great."

You then looked up at him with raised brows. "Even if I make you wait until graduation for some of them?"

"I might ask Ryujin or Soobin to take photos of your progress for me if I have to wait that long." He joked, making you chuckle. "You know, the usual."

"Sure you will." You scoffed before picking up his mug on the table and standing up again. "Dude, come on, we really have to go to bed."

IV. WE KEEP SECRETS FROM EACH OTHER

It's not to say, however, that there aren't any instances when your roles are unwittingly reversed. Beomgyu also closes himself off from you and everyone else from time to time and you naturally end up being the nosy one banging on his door and demanding for him to at least let you know that he's eating well.

It's often when Beomgyu's stressed—when there's too much work to be done, especially in his music, or when he suddenly finds himself in a problem that he unusually doesn't share with you at the first encounter.

In these moments, you usually start noticing a week before he could even lock himself in his room and isolate himself from all of your friends. Especially since university began when you'd mostly meet in the day at lunch with your friends, he'd stop pestering you to elaborate more on a story you'd tell half-heartedly but he'll still hold your hand under the tables in front of all of your friends, squeezing it more often than usual out of anxiety.

And his smile never reaches his eyes when he's stressed, the same way his laugh would be quieter, an easy giveaway that he's going through something he's decided to keep on his own.

So as someone who's noticed his patterns over the years, you let him be at first, squeezing his hand back and initiating all the jokes in the group for him to finish with the punchline so he doesn't linger too much in his own thoughts.

Then when Hueningkai or Soobin do message you that Beomgyu hasn't left his room except to go to only half of his classes, you're quick to come up to his dorm with takeout and whatever project you're working on, knowing that what he really needs best in these moments is company.

There's times when Beomgyu acts extra bratty and doesn't let you in his personal space for a couple of days, a week at most like the time he was so stressed about Toto getting sick back in your Freshman year. It takes a lot of time out of your week and money from your weekly allowance buying him food but you wait patiently by his door anyway, catching up on your studies on the hallway floor if you're at the dorms or outside his room back in your neighborhood and occasionally knocking on his door to ensure that he's still alive.

But when he does let you in, opening the door just wide enough for you to see his bloodshot tired eyes and a blanket over his head, you take the initiative to open the door wider and hug him before anything else.

You almost never initiate skinship as much as you never share things until they're prodded out of you by Beomgyu, he knows that well so that's exactly what you do when you first see him in this state. All the time.

You don't speak until he lets you go and you're allowed to occupy his space with him. Back in your old neighborhood, you would put your things on his desk next to his own and work quietly until he decides to open up to you on his own accord.

Since college started, however, things have been slightly different in that once you're in the room, you'd sit on his bed first and let him hug you until he's ready to talk. If his roommate, Hueningkai, would be there at the end of the day, you'd throw a shoe at the younger boy and ask him to come back after dinner with the promise that you'd play Mario Kart with him the next weekend.

When Beomgyu's stressed, he likes it better when it's just the two of you, your exact opposite since you'd rather have all of your close friends with you on a hangout when you're in a similar state of mind.

The most stressed Beomgyu has been in college was when he was finishing the first official album for TXT, the band he formed with Yeonjun, Soobin, Taehyun, and Hueningkai in the summer before your freshman year. It was in the second semester of your junior year, when both of you were also preparing for internship applications on top of academics and the clubs piling one on top of each other that you sort of saw this coming as soon as you felt stressed out yourself.

Beomgyu only let you in his dorm room on your fifth day of camping out, crying out his frustrations on your shoulders for almost two hours that you had to change into one of his shirts after and ask Hueningkai to bring up a whole pitcher of water for your best friend to drink over dinner.

"I—I...I just...I can't! I can't finish the songs! I'm going insane!" He exclaimed on your shoulder, his cries muffled against you but you don't mind as you continue rubbing his back in circles and reminding him to breathe. "And...and nothing's been going my way these days! Not in my classes, not in the radio show or on the soccer team! I'm just...I'm just so out of it, Y/N!"

You hummed comfortingly, carefully moving both him and yourself so you're both sitting up properly once more. You then pointed to his open laptop and computer screens on the desk across the room with a small smile, "I can see your progress from here, though. You've been doing well. You're trying and getting things done, that's what matters."

"It's not all that good..."

You shook your head almost immediately, handing him another pack of tissues you've brought with you before discarding the used ones in the nearby trash bin. "Yes, it is! I've heard the drafts before you locked yourself up in here, they're all great." You retorted, tilting your head when he buries his face in the crook of your neck once more. "I think I like Thursday's Child Has Far To Go and Maze in the Mirror the most. They're very you.

"And about your classes and clubs, just take your time with them. Soobin and I e-mailed some of your profs already, Jeongin and Tae are handling the radio show well, and I'm sure Sunwoo and the rest of the soccer team would understand your absence for now.

"For now, just do what you want to do. Rest if you want to rest. If you want to focus on the band, then that's fine too. Everything will align themselves in time, just please don't forget to take care of yourself."

"And if they don't? Align themselves in time, I mean?"

His breathing was ragged then from all of the crying and his eyes the reddest and puffiest you've ever seen them. You figured from then on that you really hate seeing Beomgyu cry in frustration the most.

"They will, I promise. They always do with you." You replied without thinking, hesitantly patting his head and gently wiping his tears with your thumbs. "And you know I'll stay with you here until you're satisfied with your progress. Or at least for a couple of days because I have tons of presentations next week."

He sniffled a bit, spraying his hands with alcohol and adjusting the blanket wrapped around him. "W-What are you going to work on in a bit?"

You scoffed, already expecting that he'd ask. "I brought a project for my Sculpture II class, if that's okay. I also brought newspapers so I don't make a mess on the floor." You answered anyway, chuckling when his eyes immediately lit up. "You've been bugging me about it so I thought I can show you the my progress just this once to cheer you up."

And as if a light switch was turned, the glossiness previously in his eyes suddenly looked like sparkles as he sat up straight. "I could smother your face in kisses right now."

"Wipe that snot off of your nose first." You pretended to cringe when he dramatically opened his arms wide and puckered his lips. At that moment, you immediately knew that he was feeling a bit better, at least. "Geez, sometimes, I think you just sulk sometimes to get me to come here and show you my works early."

"I'm not that evil!" He pouted, taking the weighted blanket off of his back and getting off the bed. "Though, now that you've suggested it..."

A pillow then quickly landed on his face. "Choi Beomgyu!"

So you spent three nights at Beomgyu and Hueningkai's dorm room, working on a bust of Yeonjun (it's a long story involving you losing a bet to him at your last group hangout) on the floor while Beomgyu finished the final edits to TXT's songs. You then go back to your own dorm room before breakfast to freshen up for your class then come back again after your classes, often around 4 PM.

And when Beomgyu finally caught up with his classes and extra-curriculars, he surprised you with an invitation to TXT's surprise album launch over a month later.

Another thing about Beomgyu is that he's strangely great with surprises, preparing elaborate plans for occasions like your birthday, the holidays, or when he's bounced back from a difficult situation right under your nose.

Initially, the boys only told you that they'd release the album after finals week and play it at the year-end school festival, the first time they would be performing a full set of original songs. Though you, Yeji, Ryujin, and Yunjin insisted that they should do a proper album launch, all five of the boys just kept saying excuses or shifting the topic to something else.

On your last official school day for that semester, however, you suddenly received a notification from TXT's social medias about a surprise album launch at a cafe you frequent with all of your friends and a personal message from Beomgyu telling you to come over 30 minutes before the show.

So in retaliation, you made sure to stop over at the nearest flower shop with the girls and surprise Beomgyu with at least a congratulatory bouquet of roses, the same size as the one he gave you all of those years ago.

Said bouquet almost getting ruined when Beomgyu hugged you the moment you entered the cafe.

"You came!" He exclaimed giddily on your neck, almost toppling you to the ground as his arms encircled your waist. "You came! You came! You came!"

You scoffed, taking a moment to regain your footing as you rested your cheek against your best friend and carefully held the bouquet behind his head. "Of course I'd come. I'm your number one fan."

"Sure you are." He feigned a sniffle before tilting his head away to press a kiss to your cheek. "But still, thank you for coming. This means a lot to me."

"I know."

"You helped finished this album."

"I doubt that. I just worked with you in silence for three days straight."

He shook his head fervently, pulling away from you fully by then and leading you to the makeshift stage across the room. "You helped me refocus and get back on my feet so I can finish everything. I think you helped big time." He retorted before picking up his guitar from its stand. "Anyway, I have another surprise!"

"I only got you one." You feigned a frown while shaking the bouquet in your hands, making him chuckle before occupying the empty high stool next to him. "I'll have to get back at you again after this."

"You're already doing so much for me coming here tonight. And you bought me really expensive flowers!" He assured, strumming the guitar a few times. When you then opened your mouth to retort, he quickly interjected, "Anyway, I wrote this song for you! I'm still thinking if I want us to perform this later but I really just want to play it for you right now before anything."

So in the middle of that cafe, while your friends ran around preparing the decorations and doing soundchecks, Beomgyu sang his song, "Nap of a Star," with his guitar on his lap and his phone with the lyrics on the music stand.

"I can see even without you in front of me. I feel you, even without saying anything. Because I believe in you, even if I'm anxious

"I can touch even without you in front of my eyes. I reach even if you go far away from me. Just by remembering you, my heart always dances like before

"I want to become your nap and dream together always as if nothing happened. The evening sunset and the darkened night sky, my heart is full of you."

He occasionally giggled and fumbled on the guitar a bit everytime he glanced over in your general direction but he finished the song with you nearly in tears, something you instinctively hid by smacking him in the arm once the guitar was out of the way.

"You jerk! You wrote that for me? Are you sure?" You exclaimed, rapidly blinking back tears. "And I only got you flowers today! God, you're making me look like a bad friend!"

He rolled his eyes, getting down from the high stool and standing in front of you. With your own chair's height, you were easily at eye-level with him as he smiled at you. "I already told you, just coming over to hear us is already enough. Don't worry about it." He assured. "Anyway, what did you think of the song?"

"It's beautiful, of course." You scoffed half-heartedly, making him chuckle. "Was that night walk in the lyrics about—?"

"That night walk at the art fair? Yeah." He grinned shyly, rubbing the nape of his neck.

Once, in the 9th grade, you had a big fight with Beomgyu over Areum, at that point his ex-girlfriend. What you both do remember the most about it is how it happened on the week before a planned trip to an art fair in the busier district of Seoul that you were really excited about.

Though you were pretty sure that you weren't on speaking terms with him that time, he still showed up at the bus stop on the day itself, prompting you to apologize to each other before heading to the art fair together.

"You were crying like shit in public that we had to move to a more secluded area because people were looking. Then, you almost choked me to death with your hug." You recalled in confusion. "Not like I was any better but..."

"I put it in because I really thought our friendship was over then." He explained with a pout. "Then the first words we told each other when you saw me at the bus stop were apologies and...ah, it's very cheesy but I just think back to that time whenever I miss you. I think it's one of those moments I remember when I think of our bond."

You smack him again, this time directly on his chest, but the tears also flow freely this time. "God, you're so...you're so poetic and annoying! And you're making me cry!"

"I take that as a win." He laughed deeply as he hugged you, one hand rubbing your back soothingly while the other cupped your face and wiped your tears gently.

"How can you even say those things without crying? We've been friends for almost 16 years, damn it, Gyu." You mumbled in his plaid shirt, hugging him back. "I-I really love the song…”

"Years of practice on how to say it properly, actually." He joked half-heartedly, rubbing your back even more and mumbling to a passing Soobin something about the last preparations for the album launch. "That's why I do all the talking for us."

V. I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH

Your thesis for your Painting degree, you realize right before the Winter break this senior year, is the perfect surprise to get back at Beomgyu. While you've briefly mentioned that you'll have to take an extra year to complete your Sculpture degree's senior thesis, you're focusing on your Painting degree in your 4th year and have miraculously kept it under wraps from everyone including your best friend because everything's been hidden in your laptop and at the studios.

At the same time, it sort of fits. Though overall, most of the studies, actual finished works, and research you've done so far for your thesis are focused on human relationships overall, traces of Beomgyu have been slipping in here and there, reminding you that it's quite hard to paint anything about your friends or your first love without him.

He's in the series of studies you did of all of your friend groups, in a watercolor rendition of the faces you remember from your old neighborhood's playground, and even in a charcoal rendition of your favorite romance book characters as your thesis advisor suggested that you try and explore.

And he's in even more finished works and abandoned sketches way before that, some you unconvered in your old binders while researching for your thesis.

It could just be the extra hustle and bustle of your senior year, with you and all of your friends busier than ever as you work on your final year. Not to mention, you still have to prepare balancing a job at the university museum with your fifth year classes next year and Beomgyu's been busy putting out new music with TXT and discussing a junior producer position at an entertainment company.

But it's been almost a whole month since you last went to a proper lunch (one that isn't jut coffee and convenience store ramen) with any of your friends which is a whole record for you and Beomgyu, in particular. You're probably just missing the guy a bit too much these days that even just getting his daily cheer up messages has been messing with your thoughts all over again.

(Not that it doesn't mess you up on any normal day. It's just a tad bit extra now that you haven't seen his face around in a while)

So when you brought up to your thesis advisor the idea of painting a portrait of Beomgyu, the studies of which you would gift him for Christmas then remake as a proper oil painting for your thesis after the Winter break, there wasn't much of a complaint on her part.

Hell, you might even suspect that Prof Kim, a mentor whom you've also had in past studio classes, has been secretly rooting for you this whole time after years of always seeing Beomgyu randomly pop up around the department building.

"And what kind of relationship will a portrait of Choi Beomgyu represent in your exhibit?" She asked on Monday with a teasing glint in her eyes, a copy of your project research in her hands.

Your face heated up in an instant as you fumbled over your words, something you quickly excuse as a reaction related to the snow outside. "I—well...I'll figure that out later which I know is a cop out answer academically but I'll connect it to something in my RRL later, I promise!"

Prof Kim chuckled, closing her binder. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Personally, I think you already have it in your RRL and project proposal, you just need to make a more explicit mention of your friend in the paper moving forward since he'll be a subject in one of your finished works."

You nodded sheepishly, quickly gathering your things and standing up to bow at your advisor. "I'll e-mail you my progress again next week before the break!"

"No, no, it's okay! Just e-mail me after the holidays, I won't deduct grades or anything!"

A few days later, you're on the floor of your dorm room with Ryujin and Yeji cramming their own choreographies for their respective senior theses in another corner of the room while you finished your second study of Beomgyu, using your most recent photos as a reference.

The small 12x16 canvas you were working on sat comfortably on an equally small easel on your work desk, another canvas of the same dimensions drying by the windowsill next to a pile of old photos at the same time. Since your thesis would only require photos of your studies, you figured that you can give all of them to Beomgyu then make an extra oil painting of the two of you, knowing that he'd probably shy away (after making egotistical jokes, of course) if it's all just him.

"So what would the final painting be?" Ryujin suddenly asked as Yeji pauses the music for a five-minute break, approaching you as she drinks a bottle of cold water. "They're all so different."

You glanced over your shoulder and frown. "That's the thing, I'm not really sure how I want to paint him in the final work."

"Why?" Yeji asked this time, sitting cross-legged on a nearby mat.

You shrugged in response. "I don't know. Honestly, I thought if I do some studies, I'd get a clearer idea but I'm already three paintings in and I still have no plan of action for the one that actually counts to a grade." You sighed, turning your attention back to your unfinished painting.

"At least you have the Christmas gift ready!" Ryujin half-heartedly joked, sitting on an empty chair next to you. On your peripheral vision, you also caught Yeji nodding with a hopeful smile. "You don't have to paint the final work until after the break, anyway."

"Yeah, but it's the one that's going to be displayed at the exhibit at the end of the year." You pointed out matter-of-factly, carefully finishing the last layer of your painting. "And it has to be perfect."

"Maybe you can work something out over the break? You're going home to your neighborhood with Beomgyu and spending more time with him, anyway." Yeji suggested next. "Maybe then you'll have a clearer idea, hm?"

And Yeji was definitely right, as she always is, when you do go home to your old neighborhood with Beomgyu after the last official school day of the semester and find yourself hanging out in his childhood bedroom on the days leading up to Christmas much like the old days.

The idea comes to you on the afternoon of Christmas Eve almost two weeks later, when you invited yourself at the Choi's once more to listen to TXT's new songs and catch up with Toto. You sat cross-legged on Beomgyu's bed with your own earphones connected to his laptop and a live-sketch of the boy in his favorite green plaid shirt and freshly cut and dyed black hair on your lap.

Glancing over at him and seeing the way his eyes sparkled as you listened to "Way Home," it was a rather quick revelation to you that the best way to paint your best friend is in his most comfortable state. Just like this: when it's just the two of you drawing and listening to music, basking in the comfort of each other's company.

So you looked back at him again as the song transitioned to "Blue Hour," trying to take in as much of his features in that moment as much as you can. The faint sunlight coming in through the fogged up windows, Beomgyu's messy hair and skewed reading glasses, his hand propped up on his desk as he rested his cheek on his palm, his brows furrowed slightly in concentration as he worked only to consciously soften them when he looks at you, the way he talked animatedly about certain parts of the song with a boyish but proud grin on his lips.

Before you can even listen to the third song, you were already placing your hand on his upper arm and asking him to stay still for a moment.

"Why?" He asked, blinking twice while his hands go to pausing the song on his laptop anyway.

"I'm trying to memorize your face in this light." You answered absentmindedly, turning to a fresh page on your sketchbook and looking at him for a minute longer before removing your hand from him. "Okay."

"Okay?" He chuckled nervously. "What was that for? Are you going to send the mafia to kill me or something?"

You rolled your eyes, folding your knees closer to your chest to hide your sketchbook as you start anew. "It's a secret."

He then tried peering over your shoulder, moving the chair he was sitting on closer to the bed. "Are you drawing me?"

"Maybe." You teased with a smirk before pulling the sketchbook closer to your chest when he tried peering again. "Play the next song, Gyu."

Painting him in another solo portrait then on one of the two of you after that was relatively quick and easy as you finished your final gifts on Christmas Day while Beomgyu and his family went to a reunion out of town. While the last painting study, the one you'll render to a bigger canvas after the break, is him looking back at you fondly on that Christmas Eve afternoon, the additional painting of the two of you was from a candid photo Taehyun took when Beomgu played you Nap of a Star.

So now, here you are, in your room this time with the portraits gift-wrapped on the foot of your bed while your best friend handed you a late Christmas gift of his own.

"I was going to make it on my computer at first since everyone was sending in pictures on chats but then Yeonjun said that it might end up looking like the slideshows you have at funerals even with my superior editing skills." Beomgyu explained with a nervous chuckle as you unwrapped the gift, finding a thick scrapbook of all of your memories and mementos growing up. "Since everything else of you that I have—the pictures, the craft store receipts, Lotte World tickets, and everything—are all in boxes at home and at the dorms, I just thought I'd print the pictures I got from our friends and instead of scanning the things I already have then make it into a physical scrapbook.

"You did always say that you want to make one someday but we never really had the time so I thought I'd start it for you and, surprisingly, there are too many things in my own space that are yours or remind me of you."

You browse through the abnormally thick book in surprise and amusement, not even knowing that Beomgyu's kept even the simplest scraps of paper related to you after all these years. From the pictures his mom took of the two of you for every first day of school until the 12th grade to the candid photos he's taken of you over the years on his phone (regardless of how unflattering they are—you make sure to smack him in the arm everytime you come across one as you continue browsing) to notes you'd leave on his locker whenever he missed school and all the Christmas tags you've put on your previous gifts, it's the most detailed history of the two of you from when you met up until the present, complete with small captions handwritten by the boy himself.

So much so that you even linger on some of the pages you never thought you'd see, including the sketch you drew that day on the playground, the first note he passed you in class in the 1st grade, and a copy of the front page of the Science paper you crammed with him in the 6th grade.

"How did you even get some of these?" You ask, pointing to a photo of the two of you from your first Christmas together you somehow forgot existed. It was in the 1st grade when the Chois had to cancel going to their annual family reunion because of Mr. Choi's work so your families ended up watching the neighborhood fireworks display together. "I don't even think I have a copy of this!"

"That's from my mom! Also took her a long time to find on her phone." Beomgyu grins before turning to another page just full of flattened flowers, mostly daisies and roses. "And these are from all the bouquets you've bought me for recitals, graduations, and our first album launch! I kept at least one of everything because I wanted to use them in a project someday but I wasn't really sure what until I got the idea to make you a scrapbook."

"How did you even decide to give me a scrapbook for Christmas? And going through all the trouble of asking everyone we know for extra pictures? I thought you were busy with the band and your thesis?" You ask next, turning to the last page and finding a bunch of old letters and old invitations, the one from your senior prom standing out. By this point, it was hard to keep the stray tears at bay as you sniffle, making Beomgyu laugh before passing you tissues.

You went with all of your friends back then but you only danced alone with Beomgyu, somehow deluding yourself into thinking that he would confess and reciprocate your feelings.

But he never did, holding himself back from saying anymore in front of your house and simply kissing your forehead at the end of the night, and that was probably the only time you cried over the boy for that reason.

Beomgyu scratches his head and smiles sheepishly before slowly gesturing over to your wrapped gift for him. "A-Ah, well...Ryujin may or may not have mentioned something about you slaving away the past few weeks for your gift."

Your jaw slacks. "Are you serious?"

Before you could protest even more, however, Beomgyu's quick to raise his hands up in defense and interject, "Well, to be fair, I got the original idea of a simple scrapbook with everything I have way before Ryujin approached me! Then she mentioned sometime ago how hard you were working on my Christmas present that I had to up the stakes and ask for more pictures and stuff from everyone else after.

"And it wasn't that time consuming, actually! Everyone was happy to share photos and even some stories about you which I wrote in some of the entries because I thought it was sweet. Just...I want you to feel absolutely loved with this gift.

"And I mean, isn't it also nice seeing us from other people's point of view?" He points out next, flipping back to the pages mainly dedicated to photos of you and your mutual friends mixed in with photos they took of you. "It's also kind of a gift from everyone else in that sense."

You wipe another set of stray tears, making Beomgyu pout and reach a hand up to help you.

"Are you okay—?"

"I love it so much." You sniffle, smacking his arm before hugging the scrapbook to your chest. "Thank you, Gyu."

He heaves a sigh of relief, clutching his chest with his free hand. "There are still some blank pages towards the end. I figured you can put your own stuff in it if since I know you keep some things in the box under the bed." He suggests, patting the bed as if to gesture to the boxes you keep under it. "Or if you want, we can just fill it with new stuff later."

"Will you help me add in my own things?"

He nods with a bright smile. "We can do it before dinner with your parents." He then reaches towards the opposite end of the bed and picks up his gift, shaking it in front of him and asking next, "Should I open my gift in the meantime?"

"Yes, please. I can't be the only one crying right now." You nod with a chuckle, moving the scrapbook to your bedside table and helping him remove the tapes all over his gift.

"Before you make your usual complaint that it's too much, it's also actually part of my senior thesis for my Painting degree. Remember how I mentioned last time that I decided to make two separate theses for my programs? So, these are studies for one of my final paintings." You explain as the paintings come into view, Beomgyu's eyes widening and his jaw slacking in an instant.

"Woah..." He breathes, laying the canvases next to each other gently. “This is...this is amazing!"

"And there's one of the two of us. Look." You point at the last painting with a small smile. "The reference is from a photo Taehyun sent to our chat after the album launch."

"A-And...and where are the other portraits from?" He asks in a lower voice after a moment, eyes sparkling when he looks up at you again.

You gulp down any feelings of wanting to melt on the spot, pointing to each painting as you answer, "The first portrait's from a photo I took at your last gig, the second one's from last summer when we went to Haeundae beach, and the third one's from just the other day when you were letting me listen to your new music."

He points to the last one shyly, his cheeks flushed pink as the two of you look over at the painting of him listening to music on his headphones with a small smile on his face. "This was in my room?"

You nod, equally shy now that he's asking the questions upfront. "I-I just figured...you looked so warm and cozy then and that's always how I remember you so...yeah. That's also the one I'll be painting in the final work that's going in my thesis."

"Really?" His eyes widen even more, to which you simply nod once more before briefly looking away from him.

"Yeah, because my thesis is mostly on human relationships and, really, the rationale in all of these paintings is that I wanted to portray you as how you are in my eyes which is—"

Before you could even finish your thought, however, Beomgyu's oversized hoodie engulfs you and his lips land on your cheek. Then he gives you another peck, this time on a spot just slightly higher on the same cheek.

Then another, and another, before moving to another cheek. "You're amazing. I love you so much." He whispers against your skin dangerously close to your lips, almost as if he was telling you a very important secret.

And you know he means it differently than the other times he casually says it to you when he doesn't laugh excitedly between his words or jokingly force you to say it back as he would often do.

Instead, he punctuates the declaration by cupping your face gently and repeating the words again. "I love you so much. I love you the most." He sighs, meeting your gaze desperately.

And it's probably the years of knowing him that he doesn't have to elaborate on it further for you to catch on. At the same time, you feel a weight lift itself off of your shoulders at this, one that you haven't even realized you've been carrying along with you this whole time, hugging the boy back tighter with your arms on his waist in response.

“Can I?” He asks next, stroking your cheek with his thumb as his eyes momentarily flickers down to your lips.

You nod with a soft hum almost instantly, tilting your face as he closes the gap between your lips.

Beomgyu kisses you like it's the most natural thing in the world for him to do, his lips feeling comforting on top of yours as he conveys every built up feeling and all the kinds of love he’s had for you in the past 16 years and receives the same back from you.

And all negative thoughts you’ve had, worries that your best friend will never look at you the same way you’ve always hoped for him to, are immediately thrown off the window and replaced by the assurance that Choi Beomgyu, the nuisance who’s been affectionately stuck to your hip since day one, is in love with you.

"I love you." He repeats, voice muffled towards the end as he gives you another fleeting kiss before rubbing your noses together. "You know what I mean, right?"

"I love you too." You reply on your own accord, panting slightly as you fill your lungs in with air and biting your lip as you feel your face heat up after. "I outlined it out at the bottom of our painting too with my signature, in case you didn't spot it."

"Ya, I did." He chuckles sheepishly, briefly moving to sit away to put your paintings on the side of the bed. Before the space he previously occupied in front of you grows cold, his arms are back around you once more as he tackles you down on the bed. "I'll hang all of them in my dorm when we get back."

"You can't nail things to the walls then graduate. That's not how it works." You laugh with a shake of your head, encircling your arms on his neck as he props himself on his elbows on top of you. When he laughs along, something in your heart stirs happily at how the two of you could go from intimate to casual so smoothly, assuring you that nothing much is going to change—just now with more-than-friendly kisses and the assurance that your best friend feels the same about you. "Anyway, they're all small enough to go on your desk at the dorms and at the studio."

"Then I'll put them on my work desk at the studio. Everyone has to know I have a really talented partner."

"Partner?" You scoff teasingly against the sudden rapid beating of your heart, playfully pushing him away. "I'm your significant other now?"

"Didn't I make it clear enough with the kisses and the hug? Not even with the fact that I've been sticking by you my entire life?" He feigns a pout as he easily rolls the two of you over with you comfortably on top of him now. "Should we make out instead?"

Your face heats up more at the comment, eyes widening when he does press a longer kiss on your lips and even manages to open your mouth while you’re distracted. "That's also not how it works, Gyu!" You manage to successfully push him away and roll your eyes, hiding your face in his chest in embarrassment.

"Then will you be my significant other? I'll take care of you like I always have, just with more kisses! Maybe some other things too like just five seconds ago." He dramatically asks with a smirk, teasingly prying your hands away from your face. "What? You wanted me to ask!"

"What happened to having shit taste in people and dating each other being an insult, then?” You tease one last time, making him groan. "Or not liking anyone I like, hm? You’re kind of contradicting yourself here.”

"We’re contradicting ourselves. I think I know enough Math to know that negatives cancel each other out." He retorts before leaning down for another kiss and resting his head on your chest after.

"But you suck at Math.”

"Do you want help with the scrapbook or not?"

VI. (epilogue) MAYBE WE WORK A LITTLE TOO WELL

A big bouquet of red roses and sunflowers is dropped in your arms by Beomgyu for the second time in your life, purposeful this time as he follows it with a an extra daisy tucked in your ear and a kiss.

"Congratulations on the exhibit, baby!" He greets you giddily after with a grin and a soft pat on your head. "I’m so proud of you! You’ve worked so hard!”

"Ew, ew, ew, not in front of us, please." Hueningkai complains, hiding behind Yeonjun and Taehyun as you lead your friends around your thesis exhibit. “I’m a child!”

You roll your eyes, draping your free arm around Beomgyu's waist anyway as Ryujin and Yeji wander off to the portraits you made of your family while the boys approach your studies on your high school and college friends.

"I have another surprise, by the way!" Your boyfriend speaks up again, taking out his phone and placing an earphone on your left ear. "I may or may not have gotten the idea from that time you were finishing up your thesis in the studio."

"I'm fucking scared." You joke, adjusting the earphone anyway while he wears the right bud on his right ear. "What is this?"

From what you can remember of those all-nighters two weeks ago, you brought your remaining works in his studio to work with him in the same space. While Beomgyu was winding down from having just finished his own thesis and recording the demo for a new song, you were trying to work quietly in your own corner, alternating between singing TXT's old songs to yourself or mumbling about how you were going to present the written part of your thesis to Prof Kim.

You also remember making out on the studio sofa while you’re on break but you’re pretty sure (well, you’re hoping your boyfriend's not insane like that) that it’s not anything remotely related to that in particular.

Beomgyu then takes your hand, leading you to where Yeji and Ryujin are. "Let's start here. I followed your gallery's pamphlet but modified it a bit towards the end so we'll end up in the painting you made of us."

And when you do stop in front of the painting series, that of your family over the years, Beomgyu's pre-recorded voice rings through your ears.

"Hello and welcome to "Why We Work,” a senior thesis by artist and my beautiful, beautiful partner, Y/N Y/L/N." Beomgyu proudly announces in the recording, making you laugh out loud in an instant. Faint in the background, you can distinctly hear Maze in the Mirror's instrumentals playing. "Y/N, baby, are you tuning in? Congratulations on finally finishing your Painting thesis! I made you an audio guide!”

You smack the real Beomgyu on his arm as you try and regain your composure. "Ya, you brat! What is this?”

He only giggles in response, making a shushing gesture dramatically. "Shh, just continue listening in. I made it for the whole gallery."

You roll your eyes but tune in anyway, responding well to the commentary as you walk with Beomgyu and even discussing some of the works yourself live and more in-depth.

“This was really sweet of you.”

“It is sweet of me, you’re welcome.” He teases, earning him another smack on the arm.

taglist: @wccycc @4beomy

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 24 thoughts

this episode was quite spooky. because cannibalism is real. but something about scully about to get her head chopped off and boiled seemed more outlandish than all the aliens and the guy that kills people with his shadow or even lizard man eugene tooms!

which is strange. because those things are pretty outlandish! maybe its because it was so much scarier than even evil lizard men.

let’s jump in:

so this is an episode involving more meat. did we need more meat, after the earlier meat processing content in s2 episode 10? many are saying no. but not chris carter!

we begin at a dirt road at night. in the state of arkansas. we have an older man and a younger woman named paula in a car, which is not suspicious at all! /s

oh and now the old man choking? is this natural or did she induce it with some poison. i mean maybe he deserved it, if she did. he takes some pills, so I’m guessing it is due to natural causes. now she beckons him out to the woods. 

into the woods. she says he has to catch her. is she luring him into a Bigfoot trap? we have yet to really see Bigfoot, and maybe he’s hungry. although Bigfoot is more Pacific Northwest than Arkansas, i think.

author's note: we tested negative for bigfoot in this episode :(

oh! this man tripped and is now surrounded by people with flashlights and very cool masks. get axe murdered, fucker.

back in DC! aforementioned fucker has been gone for 10 weeks and scully thinks the higher ups are sending them on a wild goose chase. “i’m not questioning the legitimacy of the case, just their motives in assigning it to us” <- damn, very well spoken by a rightfully suspicious woman

oh, but at the scene, someone saw a fire. and mulder says the fire is “supposed to be the spirits of massacred Indians” OH...

(mentally i was like, please do not be another scary Indigenous story episode. and we did in fact get that. sighs deeply. we can make things scary without making Indigenous people the scary ones! or using the trauma of genocide as a setting for spooky time! well, i'm sure you, dear reader, know that, so i shall not preach to the choir, but i will point out that these thoughts were going through my mind)

“these are only legends, mulder”, says a dismissive scully. and why is her hair looking excellent today. I mean not that it isn’t usually but damn. shoutout to the hair and makeup team.

the place on the side of the road where he went missing had a big fire! could be a bonfire, both parties thought. until mulder remembered a documentary he saw in college...

(hehehehe mulder spent college watching documentaries <3)

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! wow it's been a while since i've gotten to format some text like that. he watched a documentary about an insane asylum in college and it gave him nightmares.

(and this may not be super relevant to his character, but to ME, it is, so i shall note it <3)

he's got the VHS from the doc all loaded up, and presses play on a guy rambling about a fire demon!! who was found in the same spot as the fire mark!!! dun dun dunnn 

(love the implication that he either purchased his own copy of the documentary that gave him nightmares in college, or had to go rent it from the video store. both are wonderful possibilities)

cut to arkansas. mulder is on the scene holding a plastic fork from the ground. wearing his silly sunglasses. lmaooo idk why they make me laugh. what a serious gentleman.

sheriff arrives at the scene. he says the witch’s peg to ward off spirits is normal there and also that the fire mark comes from illegal trash burning. and, as an American i am aware of how Americans love an illegal trash burn. but still. suspicious.

sheriff says the missing man george was chasing women out of town. lovely sounding fellow /s

wife questioning time!! he left her years ago. oh, but tea: the day before he went missing he was going to cite major health violations in the chicken plant! hmm... a cause for murder?

mulder gives the wife his phone number. also mulder is also looking very good today. but that is an evil voice in my head that ought to be silenced.

noooo, it's chicken plant time. no thank you ma’am, i would be out in the car <3

paula from the woods at work in the plant!!! taking mystery pills. seemingly in pain??

chicken cutting cam. oh, this is not for me! 

the agents chat with the manager, who says george was trying to shut them down. and while clocked in, paula is sweating. she just gasped in front of a whole bunch of chickens and some guy with very blue eyes. she sees a human head on the chicken stand and picks it up and throws it off. shoutout to this fake decapitated head and my best friends in the prop department for making such a funny creation.

(but of course, it was a hallucination, and she really just threw a poor chicken on the floor!!! his sacrifice was in vain... gone but not forgotten)

mulder is inspecting the chicken gutting operation and i've said it before and i'll say it again: he is braver than me. 

ohh, more chicken drama: george was filing a lawsuit about “line hypnosis” and it was dismissed before he vanished! he deserved to win. is there a meat processing union? there ought to be. but he was the only one citing bad health practices, the other 3 workers said it was fine... sooo what’s the truth…

“what’s that” asks mulder, who then gets shown the feed processor, and asks “chickens feed on chickens?” <- heartbreaking realization. many of us remember where we were when learning this information. i'm sure it will stick with him forever. and i'm frankly surprised he didn't know already.

NAURRR THE SLUDGE AND BLOOD nasty nasty evil

OH plot twist: paula is holding the manager with a knife to his throat… scully telling everyone to calm down. personally i would be not calm. she said “don’t get excited” but me? experiencing an active hostage situation at my place of work? i would be excited

NOOO the sheriff shot her and she fell into the feed conveyor belt processing… thing. sheriff i KNOW you are covering something up. you will not hide from me.

SHE GETS GULPED INTO THE FEED BELT THINGY GAGGG it’s giving the jungle by upton sinclair that caused many american 8th graders to confront the corruption of the meat industry

paula had gone to the doctor about headaches… like george!!! doctor had assumed the condition was stress induced. and they did have similar symptoms. 

treated them both with codine… ain’t that a bit strong?? this man doesn't seem to be a very good doctor, tbh. i mean i don't think the guy that works at the chicken plant to sew back on fingers needs to be an expert in everything but like. codine for headaches? umm girl.

mr. chaco of chaco’s chicken was paula’s grandfather… if i was a grandfather rich off of chicken money, my grandkids would not be working the processing line, let me tell u that much!

back to the agents: these two should not be looking as good as they do in a chicken processing plant. they had to really step it up today to compensate for the horrors of the set.

chicken man lives in a mansion. further evidence of corruption. paula, i would not have had you working in such conditions if i was your grandfather. there has been a deep wrong here, i can see already.

and he’s got a big hat and is feeding his chicken corn. not other chickens, like the feed he makes in his plant... seems he is aware of the ethical issues implied in his business. also, mulder with those weird ass glasses. 

cacho is going on about the subject of chickens. and how he built this town. he sure is taking an awful lot of credit for creating a town, pretty sure that's a team effort mr. chaco. he's also going on about how he thought george was trying to tear him down. 

AUTOPSY TIME!! rare degenerative disorder in da brain of paula. and scully has only seen it one other time back in med school because you can only really find it in an autopsy. nice work, doctor! <- i just typed “nice worm 🪱” so we'll let that stay for the added sense of whimsy it provides

but despite looking like a young girl fresh out of high school, paula was born in '48?! she was 47 years old. allegedly. this is not adding up. so they go on a quest to find her birth certificate and see what the truth is.

debrief in the car. so: odds are not great that she and george had the same very rare disease

during this discussion, our duo are run off the road by a chicken truck!!!! no! oh... he drove them into a river. mulder has shifted into rescue mode as the river is red with chicken gore. i feel someone might be distracting them and trying to get the body… (this was actually not the case i was just overly suspicious)

but more chicken drama: the driver had the same symptoms as george and paula! how can this be?!

“i just came up with a sick theory, mulder” (grabs her shoulder) “ooh, I’m listening” LMAOOOO this is sososo funny to me. yeah tell me ur sick theories scully you have my full attention.

GAG!! because it is both gross and shocking. her theory: what if someone put george’s body in the feed grinder, and then since it’s a prion disease, a chicken ate it, and someone ate a chicken, and it spread to the humans!!!! AHHHH! well that would be an epidemic, because they ship chickens out across the country… she glances knowingly, implying things could be very bad 

the river is filled with bird gore from the plant BLECH... who allows this??!! please say there are some modern regulations in place to prevent this being done irl.

mulder says he wants it dragged, thinking that maybe george is in there. and the sheriff is hesitant to do this. once again, i’m onto you, sheriff. i mean, a river full of chicken gore: it would be a good place to put a dead body.

and bam! a body is found. or rather. many many many bones. many bodies. and they are still going. damn.

so, we have a ton of bones. scully can put them into 9 distinct skeletons, one of which is in fact george. i love that she can do that, put the bones into distinct skeletons. she knows it's geroge from a pin in his femur!

“all of them share one, strange detail though” “well, they seem to have lost their heads” “… well, besides that” <- LMAOOOO idk why this was so funny to me... he really thought he picked up on something but he did Not.

here's the linking detail: all the bones are smooth and buffed like they have been polished. ??? who is polishing bones? it sure isn't me, i'll tell you that much. 

george’s wife is at the scene, learning her husband's body has been found, and she is sobbing. and the sheriff says “we’ll take care of you” now what does THAT mean? because it's not really sounding like the welcoming words of a man who is going to guide his neighbor through tragedy, and instead like there is something bigger at play here...

back at the plant, the doctor is mentioning another guy coming down “with the symptoms”…. omg. so this IS a known thing from the inside. mr. chaco knows but he isn’t doing anything about it!!!!! chicken dramaaaa goes crazy 

scully at the scene of all the bones, carrying a bucket of chicken. lmao. she is braver than me, for i would have gone vegan the first moment i set foot in chicken processing land.

mulder does some digging: 87 people have disappeared in the area in 50 years! that seems... a lot? and he thinks the same person or persons were responsible. he thinks they were EATEN!! boiled in a pot.

“they used similar evidence to prove cannibalism among on the Anasazi tribe of New Mexico” okay: 1. why do you know that 2. need to look into these allegations for myself and 3. Anasazi… that is the title of the next episode!!! what could this mean!! another cannibalism episode?!

scully is very sad to say that paula could have gotten sick from eating george :( girl I’m not convinced the chicken is clean put it down NOW 

cannibalism = eternal life? follow for more crazy mulder theories!

she puts aside the chicken……. good!

mr. chaco says “he’ll handle it” and george's wife doris arrives, saying she “can’t keep lying”… she says “she did it” (!!)

OH????? she... killed her husband? that is a bold thing to admit to.

“we’re gonna take good care of you”, says mr. chaco, which raises the question: are they a cannibal cult???? is that what he means when he mentions that he “built this town”???

now what the hell is going on. <- an interjection i stand by

mulder and scully are going to the courthouse to look at the papers and all the birth records are burnt!! doris calls mulder and says he’s afraid mr. chaco will kill her… they split up…. nooooo i hate splitting up!!! i watched so much scooby doo as a kid!

GASP! a guy in a mask like we saw at the very beginning of the episode is in doris' home!!! drumbeat playing while she screams…. overall, this is very not good, i wrote, referring to the use of Indigenous imagery for this murder, and also doris being murdered in the first place

scully at the scene of the murder ft. big ass flashlight. she gets in through the side door. gun: out. trench coat: open. looks: served. diagnosis: baby girl that could kill me, and i am respectful of the fact that she has this power yet refrains from using it on me.

mulder at mr. chaco’s house. mr. chaco has some… stuff in his home. including photos with Indigenous people and also bones. having human bones in your house, and especially on display, is not a good sign of ethics in play. and a skull. Oh! it says the skull is from a tribe in New Guinea... why tf does he have that. put it back???

at the back of chaco's parlor, we see a mysterious door. mulder is busting it open.

LORD ALMIGHTY, I DID NOT THINK THERE WOULD BE HEADS INSIDE??? HELLO???

so that must be where all of the heads that mulder noticed were missing have gone. they're sewn up sort of like shrunken heads. very spooky. once again, pour one out for the props department for such a creation.

noooo chaco is in the house with scully, who was investigating the call of doris. NOOOO HE KNOCKED HER OUT!!! this seriously needs to stop happening like i'm worried about the brain damage she is experiencing.

back to mulder cam. goodness. all of these heads. 

in a field now. doctor is serving some soup. to a bunch of people. who are eating around a big bonfire. do NOT tell me scully is in that meal....

she is not. YET! but he is bringing her over to be roasted. and they ate doris! chaco is yelling about turning on each other and how they were only supposed to eat outsiders. girl you shouldn't be eating anybody last time i checked. 

man in the mask shows up with an axe. and chaco is decapitated in front of scully. who is put into the decapitation thingy next. GIRL THIS IS FUCKED UP!!!

mulder on the scene, just in time. he shoots the dude in the mask.

“you alright?” he asks, brushing her hair back after lifting her out of the decapitation machine. my good friend, i would venture to guess that she is not quite alright at the moment!!! this will take an awful lot of unpacking!!!

sigh. but the tenderness of the near death experience. coming back to life in someone's arms. yeah i'll romanticize that.

TEA!!! the sheriff was the one under the mask!!!!!! i knew he was up to no good.

wrap up: chicken place shut down. unclear how many citizens of the town ate people. 27 have become ill with prion disease. chaco’s plane was shot down in 1947, and he spent 7 months with a cannibalistic tribe, and also he was born in 1902, so he was 93 at his death- so the cannibalism really WAS extending life. and we see some more feed being scooped to the chickens as scully says his remains have yet to be found. end scene.

HUH???? what in da hell. so what are we thinking kids…?

well, i'll tell you something: turns out i am afraid of cannibal cults, no matter how outlandish they seem! i guess when you get a villain or evil situation of the week show like this, you WILL learn exactly what kind of fear pushes your buttons. i can imagine almost nothing scarier than being led to the slaughter like scully was. seems a purposeful commentary on the meat industry, especially when taken in with the other meat episode this season.

so, if i were scully, i do think i would need to take a week or so off. but she is just built different than i am.

some things bugged me here. first of all, like i mentioned, you don't need to throw in Indigenous people to make a scary story. like is the thought of a bunch of arkansas cannibals not horrific enough? the scary was there!

second, i have not been doing a kidnapping count, but i feel that scully is getting the rough of the deal here. i believe in gender equality when it comes to characters being kidnapped. like, an even 1:1 ratio. why are we denying mulder his damsel in distress arc? does anyone think about how he would feel? how nice it would be to see scully burst in with a gun and shoot the fellow that was about to cannibalize him?

still, it is rare an episode actually spooks me, so i must give credit where it is due. even if it felt a little outlandish, your girl was frightened! scully needs a vacation now. i also thoroughly laughed at the sick theories line and his funny sunglasses.

it's funny to note, but i like the episodes that are either very silly and light hearted, or incredibly angsty the best. and that may seem contradictory, but you cannot tell me that one breath and humbug may be on opposite ends of the tone spectrum, but they are both objectively Perfect. i'll have to think more on why they are the best in my opinion, but i think honestly i would watch these two read the dictionary.

[mobblespsycho100]

👍psychoanalyze ur kabru playlist now boy

yes I shall #1 boykisser... 🫡

ask game thing

anyway formatting the last post was kinda hell for me. which is why I'll do the same exact formatting for this one...

(rambling all over the place is commencing)

1. Valley of The Dolls by MARINA

baby. where do i freaking begin.

"In the valley of the dolls, we sleep" -> his adoptive mother, Milsiril, is a big fan of collecting dolls. Like, plushies of everything. She animates them to fight, but they're also there to soothe her. She also adopts a lot of children from short-lived races who don't have a family and she got allegations that she treats them all like her dolls lmao... I mean she kind of does in the sense that they're all precious to her. She does respect their autonomy but uhhh still living with such a doting and overbearing/overprotective mother makes u wanna break outta the dollhouse the cage . be free . hashtag transgenderism also gosh im getting off topic . anyway i bet Kabru slept with a lotta those dolls. in his comfy bed . that he left behind because hes not abt that life mama he wanna see the world and save it and get killed in dungeons. boy.

"Got a hole inside of me / Living with identities / That do not belong to me" -> Grouping these lyrics together because it makes sense for my twisted narrative i mean my very real and based takes. Anyway, he's got a hole inside of him the void in his heart (in his mind) and thats why. his autism and ptsd masking swag. thats as eloquent as i can put it. theres a lot more i can say though

"In my life, I got this far" -> He survived the tragedy of Utaya his hometown . the bloodbath because of the dungeon. It has to be for a purpose ™ . It's because he has to save the world from suffering the same fate and it's his burden to bear it's his purpose it was why he survived (the survivor's guilt... goodness man. trauma processing of all time. :[ )

"Now I'm ready for the last hoorah" -> boy . letting these panels speak for itself. putting it under the cut because spoilers for the peeps seeing this maintagged and they're not caught up with manga .

yeah boy hes falling. fallen. uhm. in the pit. Ready for the last hoorah in this case like. yeah 🤣 just leaving it up to laios (Liar . kabru and mithrun dungeon adventure speedrun)

"Dying like a shooting star" -> guy keeps dying. not even like a shooting star really. well. ig hes going out in style somewhat id getting crushed by Falin's chimera dragon claw counts as shooting star style

2. Lip Sinking by The Hoosiers

We all know Sash does not play about The Hoosiers which is why I have 26 damn The Hoosiers songs on there I should get awarded tbh .

Now Lip Sinking is really good because it's another one of those scammer / masking guy anthems i keep talking about. These lyrics in Verse 5 in particular is really easy to match to Kabru's character moment™ though, so let's break it down.

"I float above my body" -> Common depersonalization experience. For trauma reasons, Kabru probably feels like this a lot sometimes but specifically in this scene...

(apologies for no alt text peeps . but this is the friendship confession scene for those in the know if it hasnt loaded in yet)

anyway, back to the show (psychoanalyzing Kabru) . I think this disconnect with his words VS his thoughts and his heart is so real. Like. seeing urself out of ur body is again a depersonalization thing, and idk if hes feeling depersonalization in this moment specifically but he was really out of it and in a sort of , scrambled and intensely anxious state. His usually calm and cool persona slash facade is Crumbling and man he hates that .

"Must be out of my mind / Cos I watch myself / Getting it wrong everytime" -> He's like. man what the hell am I saying

letting the page speak for itself again because It's like. its there i mean its in tha text what am I supposed to dissect hes dissecting himself already 🤭😭 okay. 'What am I saying' 'I can't find the words' so true man idk what the hell im saying either rn

"I can't tell you how I'm really feeling" -> because he doesn't know his own emotions. He thinks he does, he has been so good at controlling them and like being fake about what he's truly feeling in his heart, adjusting his personality for others' sake. So they trust him, believe in him, listen to him. But for Laios, how does he even say anything? Before this, the words just spilling out, he didn't even know how he felt about Laios. It sounds ridiculous even to himself and that's why he clamps his mouth afterwards but indeed it Is what he was truly feeling all along... (and then Laios thinks he's lying and hes like "NO BITCH!!!? what?!!!?! im being vulnerable and honest rn?!?" )

"Cuz I'm just lip-syncing" -> for so long that's what he's been doing. lip syncing, saying things he doesn't really mean to influence others' perception of him... but this time his mouth moved faster than his mind racing with thoughts. that he's able to convey what he truly wanted all along and finally admit to himself and his own consciousness. like. aaaahgh. man hes so special to meeee....

bonus: the outro's lyrics is rlly good aha. he can finally say what he actually feels... he can be #real.

3. Allies or Enemies by The Crane Wives

This one is . a lot of vibes I think.

"Are we allies or enemies? / This will be the death of me / This will be the death of me" -> He legit says this to Laios . like hes still wondering if they're allies or enemies . Technically he doesn't want them to be enemies. he's cautious but he knows Laios isn't really a bad guy but like, his mind just keeps fixating on Laios and the steps he takes to get the dungeon under control so. hes desperately trying to figure it out because goodness this guy is so. waugh

"All is fair in love and war, but I can't fight with you anymore / This will be the death of me" -> his mental conflict is sooo tasty to me. like . all is fair in love and war !!! any method is justifiable !!! means justifies the ends but also he understands that in the end he can't fully wrap his head around Laios' love of monsters but he knows that Laios will be the one to conquer the dungeon because he also loves his family. He can't fight with him anymore and he can't "kill" him anymore because somehow this man has wormed his way in. well, he never wanted him dead in the first place but I find that he often thinks about killing him to save humanity from his... well. freakishness (complimentary) (concerning sometimes) ;;; but in the end Kabru lets him go and is willing to trust and support Laios till the end ... also once again the repetitiveness of "this will be the death of me" because he's stressed as helll!!!!

"What happens now, do we have another go?" -> I think this is post-Marcille being talked down out of being dungeon lord . Kabru's probably like ok so now what. well. Laios goes its my turn with the dungeon lording 😭😭 (and shit goes down) (but its okay he got it covered)

"Do we bow out and take our seperate roads?" -> Now this is probably when they're (the whole gang) is like "WHERE'S LAIOS DID HE DIE?" no he lives guys its fine. and namari toshiro and kabru run at him in relief. wauh. and also ofc the whole people coming together to eat faligon meat and save Falin ... yippeee... so yeah they don't go seperate roads because Kabru is like yeah imma be Laios' pr manager . #royaladvisor . sticking with him fr fr

"I'll admit I had my doubts / But I want to be let in, not out / But I want to be let in, not out" -> again the repetition ... of him wanting to help. I've mostly been talking abt how this entire song is Kabru's conflicted thoughts @ Laios but this can also be Kabru lending a helping hand to Mithrun at the end of everything. Because he's the one to like help Mithrun realize that there is a purpose to living and like . new desires and ppl who care abt him... but also yeah Kabru "i want to be let in, not out" because he wants to help out Laios with running the new kingdom instead of being in the background again and being ignored ahhaa he wants to be friends for real (and maybe even . lovers. lets go gay people)

ANYWAYYY YEAH THATS THE END WOOOOO idk how to close this out. happy belated birthday kabru and ty juno for sending this in ajshjdhsb :33 ♡

[nugatorysheep]

Wip Title Game

Tagged by @novantinuum

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs

I am not tagging 50 million people so @extranuts @flaretheskywing @dragonuva @roseetube post some WIP titles cowards

I have several docs that are just meant to be informative that I'm not listing because there's not much to talk about with them, and a TON of unfinished art that is like pre 2022 that will def not get done ever so its been yeeted into my Untouchables folder and also isn't listed here lmao

For convenience, I've taken out any duplicate files that are the same thing but in a different format

As you can see I have three brands of naming conventions for my files: Objective, Boring Name that just Is What It Is, Song Title and/or Lyric, and Shit Post Cause I Was Tired

Lord help me I have SO many WIPS

(Non-Informational) Writing Wips:

Bad End FOM Fic Beguiler of Wills Burning despair does ache Chapter 9: What does it matter how my heart breaks Drabbles Druidbreak Ficlet FOM WIP Doc Glimpses of life denial WIP IDK what to call this but yeah IEOE stuff idk Intermission XXX: Separate Ways Intermission XXX - Last moments of pure recall Intermission XXX - Look in my eyes she still holds the power Intermission XXX - The way ahead feels lonely Intermission XXX - Loss of want back there Pit AU - Editing Prism R&C Soundtrack Breakdown Six Forty Seven Slug it out Tell Me Something Good

Art Wips (I have a million of these):

[shoves hand in abdomen for the symbolism or some shit].clip ask.psd Axel Sketches.clip baneful bunker.png beat up boys.clip Beyond Bliss Gems Lineup.clip Bliss rose stuff for later.clip break the bank.clip chompers.png Connverse dump.clip Cupid dump.clip Druid x Sven x Sonny.clip Dryad sketches.clip EINF Steven.clip evil boi.clip evil leo doodles.clip Eye contact.clip Fab fly floret.clip failure 01.clip Frame of Mind Sketchbook.clip Fusion Chart.clip gay as fuck to be a test subject. what are you testing, your capacity for homosexual desires.clip (this is one long ass title lol) goober.clip Haven't you noticed I'm a star.clip He can say it cause i said so.clip he yeeteth and yoinknth away.clip HEARTBREAK SPINEL REF.clip homie rolled a nat one on genetics fr.clip HONEY REF.clip i am so fucking hungry bro imma make noodles 1.png (there's 4 it's a comic) I have made a new boy.clip Illustration (2).clip Illustration (3).clip Illustration.clip Illustration2 (2).clip Illustration2.clip Inner Demons.clip it triggered his flight or fight response.clip Karma Sketchbook.clip lazer_eyes-3A4E6.clip Lemme tell you what it's like to be a Zero.clip Loss Dot Jaypeg.png me.clip Mermay HB.clip mermay.clip MINOTUAR MAN.clip mirror_gem_designs.clip ML Stevonnie.clip munchmunch.clip Nova Artfight 2.clip Now that it's raining more than ever.clip old man lizard.clip oops all pain lol.clip open arms.clip Pasture crew.clip rare dizzy art.clip Real.mdp Ref wips.clip Sarkhan's Dragonfire.clip Save a horse ride a cowboy.clip Say that again i dare you.clip Screenshot 2023-09-23 001021.png Senkywenky.clip SFW Sketchbook.clip ShatteredStar.clip Show off those guns.clip Slugman the second coming.clip Snaps and snarls.clip so what's the point of holding tight onto my feet.clip Soap.clip some mtg quote.clip Space faggot.clip spongebob window meme.clip Starnheim_Unleashed.psd STEVEN ON LION.clip SU AU Battle Cuts.clip SUDF page redraw.clip Suneater.clip SUTREK.clip Take A Breath.clip Talking to Myself Redraw 1.clip (there are several of these it's a comic) THE SUN IS GETTING LOW.clip THERE IS NO MANA IN THIS AIR.clip they love each other.clip this was supposed to be shoes idk what happened.png Throwing boys at the wall to see what sticks.clip Tourmaline.clip Tower of boys.clip Trolls bullshit.clip tumblr bait purple rabbit man but the lame version [springtrap did it better].clip uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit idk.clip Union of Love.clip wahho.clip Welcome to the grid user.clip Welcome to the grid user.png Will you be satified.clip wip 02.clip You're MINE.clip zoo doodles.clip ZOOLOGY GEMS REF TWO.clip

[weaselle]

i've seen several videos of a certain type, i'm sure most of them are completely staged, but i don't understand why they are popular even if they weren't staged

the format is: woman offers reason for man to sort of reject her in some way, man does not reject her over this because he is a hero who can step over a bar so low it is lying on the ground. But specifically in a lot of these videos (which again, i'm pretty sure are completely staged) the man does this in a negative way? for no reason? and is the 'hero' for it?

two examples

in one video, a woman has, apparently, told her partner she is taking him out to dinner, but then in the car she tells him they can't go because she can't afford to pay for dinner? and then he says fine he'll pay, and she complains that she wants to be the one to take him out, and he offers to give her one of his credit cards before they go to dinner so she can be the one to pay the bill - which is fine or whatever even tho idk why this exchange is worth watching.

the thing is, he like, raises his voice and treats her like she's stupid. He, like, tosses his wallet at her and very loudly says something like "pick any card out of there, why do i give a fuck, what's wrong with you" or something to that effect. It's supposed to be sweet somehow? i think? like "oh it's okay baby i'll let you pay using my money so you can live out your fantasy of buying us dinner" or something, which is weird content anyway, but if you didn't know the language, based on tone and physicality you'd swear he was legit angry at her about something

similarly, in my second example, a guy shows up for a blind date only to discover his date is literally blind, and she's like do you still want to go, and he... treats her like she's stupid for wondering? he says, among other things, something like "do you like food? then why the fuck wouldn't we go out" in the same tone you'd ask someone why they put a metal bowl in the microwave again. Like this is supposedly the first time they've ever spoken, and he's treating her like she's stupid for worrying her blindness will result in some kind of rejection and it just... rubs me the wrong way.

whether or not it's staged, these videos feel a little bit like watching a video where a woman says "i'm afraid you're going to be mean to me" and then the guy, like, calls her a dumb bitch for being stupid enough to think he'd be mean to her. And then the video is posted as a sort of example of "look how sweet this man is" or something.

Anyway, i HATE that these kinds of videos are so popular.

[boomboom-tanjiro2019]

OUR BELOVED SUMMER AU

PORTGAS D ACE X F! READER

This is gonna be based off the KDRAMA "Our Beloved Summer" I haven't finished it so keep that in mind. Idk if this is gonna be continued but this is the concept. Use of They/Them for Ivankov. I'm a Mrs. Kook defender. Not much was changed here but I will be altering to fit with the characters personalities a bit. Some original "Our Beloved Summer" characters might be split into two depending on the scene. The formatting is super weird so might not make sense, I really reccomend the show! Basically the different font is when the two are being interviewed and the flashbacks in between are describing the events of their meeting. As it goes on it will make more sense. Obv this is not my original storyline though some parts are changed 100% reccomend the show.

PROLOGUE

May, 2011

Interview, Ace sits in chair shuffling awkwardly. Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17: Oh… start? Uh- My name is Portgas D. Ace.

-

A teacher talks at the front of the classroom as Ace knocks out in a fit of narcolepsy. Camera crew recording to the right of him near a window, miniature camera facing him on his desk, another camera facing the girl next to him.

His eyes flutter open and immediately direct to the camera crew next to him, comfortability snatched away from him.

“Don’t look at the camera” Dragon whispers over.

Ace slowly lifts his head, “It’s too big for me to miss…”

Dragon sighs, “Just… pretend there’s nothing over here”

“How am I supposed to do that? It’s right in front of me??”

“Ignore it-“

“Idiot. Face forward.” The girl in the chair next to Ace whisper shouts over the teacher. Ace furrows his eyebrows and looks at her as she stares down at him from his hunched over position, “…Why are you looking at me? Look at the board.”

‘Bitch.’ Ace thinks.

“Class is dismissed! Do whatever you want.” The teacher, Dracule Mihawk sighs and whispers under his breath, “Fuck these kids.”

He packs up his things as the camera crew stays fixated on him.

“You’re leaving?” she asks, sitting in the same spot.

“None of your business what I’m doing.” Ace messily shoves his things in his bag, papers everywhere crumpled together.

The girl takes a deep breath, “Sir, can we stop recording?” Her head slowly turns to glare at the back of Ace’s head, “It’s really hard to work with such an idiot.”

Ace turns on the heel of his sneakers “Huh? You call me an idi-“

“We have been filming for DAYS. The whole time you’ve been moving around like you’re insane. I can’t focus at ALL because you were so restless.”

“The camera is- RIGHT. THERE. What the hell do you want me to do?”

“Focus on class? Maybe?! You can’t even do that?”

“Then ignore me and focus on yourself.”

“Fine. You don’t care about getting good grades, totally get it. But I refuse for you to end up bringing me down to your level.”

Ace turns to the camera in a “The Office” style fourth wall break, “You heard that right?” He turns back, “I’m SOOO happy for you. Your social skills couldn’t get lower.”

The girl scoffs and murmurs “why did I even agree to this?”

“I KNOW right?” Ace smiles and puts his hands on his hips with a sarcastically confused expression, “Why DID you agree to this?” With that, he storms off.

-

Interview Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  My name is Y/N L/N. I think I first saw Ace around the tenth grade.

-

Flashback to when Y/N is describing, October 17, 2009 

Y/N approaches the library desk, peaking over at the top Bookworms list.

Portgas D Ace

Y/N L/N

“Excuse me, Mrs.?” Y/N asks as the librarian looks up. “Who is…um…” she reads the name one more time “ Ace?”

“Oh? Ace? He’s over there actually.” She points to a guy over in the corner of the library.

-

Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17: I met him in a weird spot.

-

“Hey.” She stands near the boy, “My name is Y/N. What’s your school rank?”

Ace looks at her, taken aback and kind of bashfully , “Erm… 267.”

She freezes, “But… we only have-“

“267 students.”

-

Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  At that moment, I thought he was a super weird kid. Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  UM- No. That was the 2nd time we met. The first time was during the entrance ceremony.

-

Flashback to their freshman year, first day of school.

A multitude of students stand in separate lines at a school gym as school officials sit in chairs on a decorated front stage.

“The student entering into their first year with the best grades from middle school is Y/N L/N!” A principle shouts over the chatter.

-

Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  I watched her walk because she looked like a soldier marching into war or something.

-

Y/N grabs her award with a small and serious smile and swiftly going back to her spot in line.

Ace’s deep chocolate eyes meet her piercing and intoxicating ones, he smiles softly at her.

-

Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  In my own defense here, I was just trying to be nice to her the first time our eyes met.

-

“Hey.” She tilts her head up in his direction. 

Ace gasps slightly, cursing himself for doing it right after. His eyes widen and he waits for another word intently

“Turn around.” She narrows her eyes at him.

He looks as if he was pretending not to die slowly, his eyes staying in the same position as only his head slowly rotates forward like a depressed owl.

-

Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  That’s when I realized she was pretty weird. Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  …ANYWAY- I never thought I would have gotten involved with a kid as weird as HIM.

-

Senior Year, February, 2011

Ace rolls around in a chair, restlessly holding a bag over his head with his nose scrunched and bopping his head to non-existent music like the Wii soundtrack was the only thing that was in his head. Which wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption. The teachers’ room is packed with desks and computers.

“So- what do you think?” Ivankov smiles in an overexcited manner, “The director is a SUPER close confidant of mine and he PROMISED not to get in your way. Awesome right?” They wink, “You can always refuse of course.”

“…Am I the only one being filmed?” She asks.

“No, there will be another, they’ll record the best student and worst student for a month and see how you two will interact. Like a documentary. That’s where Ace-boy over there comes in.”

Y/N’s eyes pan over to Ace getting slapped with a rolled up piece of paperwork by a female teacher, wincing at the contact and putting on the expression of a hurt puppy… or a spoiled toddler. “Ouch- sorry-“ he whispers.

‘…right.” She thinks.

“Anyway- just keep the offer in mind, alright?” Ivankov smiles.

“Okay I will.” She smiles, “Thank you- wait… sorry- say I do agree to it, do I get paid for it?”

“Of course! You’ll be paid well.”

Ace’s bag stays over his head and his eyes stare directly at her as she’s leaving, catching her off guard. She freezes and looks him up and down before jogging off.

-

Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  To me, it seemed like he was my total opposite. I thought about saying no. Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  Yeah, well I had already said no when Iva asked me, but turned out I had no choice in the matter anyway.

-

“ACE!” Dadan calls out to her “not son” and drags him over to the bench the other two are still sitting at, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US ABOUT THE DOCUMENTARY?!”

“OW OW- why would I?! I’m not doing it.” Ace shouts while getting thrown over to sit on the bench.

Garp laughs and hits Ace way too hard on the back, “What are you TALKING ABOUT? Of course you are! Dragon came all this way to ask. Even though he owes me thousands in child support.”

Dadan mumbles, “You mean he owes ME.”

“YOU CAN'T MISS THIS CHANCE.”

“YOU’RE GONNA GET TO STUDY WITH THE TOP STUDENT OF THE YEAR- YOU HAVE TO.”

“I DON’T WANT TO!” Ace shouts, temper rising.

Garp’s grin fades, “Why the HELL not kid? How can you refuse?!”

“Strangers are gonna know my face!” He puts his arms up in defense.

Dadan scoffs, “as if you care about that.”

“I’m a senior! This will affect my academics.” Ace crosses his arms and closes his eyes as if that was a valid argument.

Silence.

Dadan and Garp burst out laughing.

Dadan can barely get the words out and shouts, “WELL THEY CAN’T GET ANY WORSE KID!”

Garp is still smiling but his laughter fades out, “I mean… they could be to Luffy’s level.”

“…Don’t even go there, he’s lucky he’s only a freshman so they can’t ask him to be in the documentary. He’s the only one Ace is beating right now.” Dadan completely stops smiling at the reminder of the horror that is Luffy’s academic life. No one is even sure he can read. “Besides, you’ll be studying with the TOP STUDENT! You should be GRATEFUL!!”

“But…. BUT! I…. THAT GIRL IS A WEIRDO!”

-

Going back to the interview room with the two at least two feet a part glancing at each other tiredly Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  Yeah. That’s it- that’s about how this whole thing started. And it became way more bothersome than I thought.

-

Ace sits down in the classroom he switched to, pulling out an array of unnecessary items.

Y/N sighs, “it’s always the worst students who cause the most ruckus.”

Ace looks confusedly over to her, “You talking to me?”

“Keep your stuff off of my desk.”

Ace sassily scoots his colors over to the complete other side of his desk and slowly scoots the overlapping pages of Y/N’s book to her side.”

-

Portgas D. Ace, 17:  She was way more annoying than I could have ever imagined.

-

The two documentary stars sit at a lunch table alone with cameras between them documenting their every move.

-

Portgas D. Ace, 17: At first I tried to be friends with her.

-

“Hey um….” Ace awkwardly smiles before trying to talk, not being able to think of a conversation starter. He slowly puts his head back down, fiddling with his spoon and food, but a piece goes flying and lands right on Y/N’s white shirt getting sauce stains on it. 

She looks down slowly and coldly, and in Ace’s personal opinion, seems like she is going to beat the living shit out of him. She looks back up and focuses her eyes away from Ace.

Ace’s eyes widen and he stiffens immediately, “Oh- um- sorry…” he cringes at himself.

She ignores his apology and takes a napkin to try to wipe off the stain, she finally looks back up at him and glares, grabbing a sauce packet and slowly opening it.

Oblivious to the action, Ace turns and points at her sheepishly while facing the camera, trying to explain. “I didn’t mean-“ A spray of sauce goes flying at Ace’s shirt as he gasps and faces her defensively. “I said I was sorry!”

“Good for you. I’m not.” 

-

Y/N L/N, 17:  What was I gonna do? We are just too different.

-

Y/N and Ace were forced to be recorded attending a gym class, normally Ace’s forte. However, Y/N was set on using him as a human shield instead of playing normally.

She moved him while trying to avoid the ball, causing Ace to get hit and very uncharacteristically fall to the ground. Y/N taking this opportunity to tilt his head the direction of the ball and get him hit in the face instead of the side of his head had he just stayed there.

She stands up again and Ace pulls away facing her in anger, “HEY WHAT THE F-“

Y/N quickly turns him around to the direction of the ball, still unnecessary given he would have still blocked it with the back of his head, Ace realizes and quickly ducks down.

The ball approaches quickly while Y/N is still in that same spot.

The ball smacks her right smack dab in the middle of the face, knocking her down not from momentum of the throw, but the shock and late reflexes making her fall back much easier than normal.

Ace flips his head around, realizing late, “PFFT- uh- you alright there?” He smiles and lends a hand while Y/N grabs his arm and digs her nails into his wrist in cold blood.

-

Y/N L/N, 17: He acts like a child.

-

Ace lies down on a bench looking up at trees that have light partially peeking through. Like a glimpse of heaven or an artwork showing how nature can work in harmony to form a single piece.

He talks to the camera crew facing a camera up at him from above, “One of the things I love doing the most is lying in the shade, with the sun peeking down on me through the trees.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Y/N interrupts Ace’s filming standing up over him, “Finish that book so you can return it.”

Ace smiles and examines the book, reaching out with it to give to her, as she reaches for it snatching it away with a shit eating grin to put it under his head as a pillow and sighs, “Wow… this is great.”

Y/N fumes and snatches both of the books from under Ace and lets his head hit the hard wood of the bench.

-

Y/N L/N, 17:  To top it off he’s lazy.

-

Students sit in an eerily quiet classroom, pencils marking away at workbooks, the only sound being Ace’s giggling at his phone out texting some of his friends from Whitebeard’s Resort where he works for the summer.

The students glare over at Ace, not one saying a word, settling for silent annoyance. Y/N grows tired and snatches the phone right out of his hand and shoves it in her backpack.

Ace stands up in shock and disbelief, the sound of the clanking chair alarming Mr. Mihawk.

“What was that?” He enters back into the classroom from the conversation he was having with Shanks, probably escaping it honestly, “ACE! You AGAIN?! I thought I told you all to be quiet.” He sighs and rubs his temples.

Ace glares over at Y/N who gives him a fake confused look and innocently smiles.

-

Portgas D. Ace, 17:  Things are already exhausting and she has a knack for making them even worse. Y/N L/N, 17:  To sum it up, Portgas D. Ace is pathetic.

-

"Sorry, what was that last question?" Ace asks Dragon in an isolated room, Y/N sitting two feet to his right.

"How about why can't you pay attention?" She crosses her arms and shoots him a pointed glare.

"Right..." Dragon sighs, "I'm gonna restart the recording now, if we can just get this segment done."

Portgas D Ace: Things I hate? *He smiles* Y/N L/N. She’s some weird girl I know.

Y/N L/N: *Facing him* I hate pathetic things. I despise people who are hopelessly pathetic the most. Portgas D. Ace: *Inconspicuously pointing at her* And being selfish! I hate selfish people who only-

Y/N L/N:  People who cause trouble for others! If you want to fail, fail on your own. Why do the rest of us have to go with you? Portgas D. Ace:  People who are super harsh, and speak without thinking. To me those people are super rude. Y/N L/N:  Look at who is talking. He needs to look in a mirror because he doesn’t think at all.

Portgas D. Ace:  He?! Me??? Y/N L/N:  You started it by bitching at me first! Portgas D. Ace: Ugh. Are you done talking? Y/N: Not yet because I’m obviously still talking. Ace: Why did you guys want me to film this again? Y/N: Because it’s a documentary filming the best student helping the worst. Correct? Ace: Ohhhhh… I see… you’re seeing how long normal people can endure anti-social ones. Experiments like this are just unethical. Y/N: Oh I’m sorry… from the title BEST and WORST student who would you think is more antisocial?

Ace: People like her exhaust everyone around them as soon as they enter society. Y/N: Someone like you wouldn’t even be able to enter society so how would you know that? Dragon: Alright… um… here’s a DIFFERENT question: what do you think you’ll both be doing after ten years?

*Silence* Ace: Let’s see… I’ll be 27 by then… Y/N: Whatever it is, I’m hopeful and pretty sure that I will be good at whatever it is I’m doing. Ace:  Ummmmm… I guess I wanna live an adventurous life without being too tied down. Y/N: I’ll lead groups of people in my company and have an active and fulfilling life, a successful one. Ace: I want a free and open life Ace and Y/N: With one thing for sure- Y/N:  I’ll have nothing to do with the pathetic person next to me. Ace: *Scoff*  That’s how I feel.

Dragon shuts off his camera and exits the room with Ivankov waiting outside, "Maybe I've gotten myself into more trouble than it's worth."

"Oh it'll be fine... They'll learn something and become better people by the end of it." They smile.

"I suppose you'r-" He's interrupted by the sound of clanking chairs and incoherent yelling.

"Or maybe they'll kill each other before filming is over and this will be for nothing" Ivankov pats Dragon on the back and take off.