#okay there that's all for now bye ... will check in again sometime later. when i finish all my school tasks maybe? b4 may 1

[astrxealis]

comin here for a bit HELLO OH MY GOD if any of you are playing honkai star rail hmu <3 complicated feelings for hoyogames but my nostalgic love for honkai in particular wins out

[leashybebes]

Congrats on the increased follower count, you deserve it after exes detriments (sorry, I can’t remember the official name) but here’s a prompt for you:

Buck and Tommy struggle to find time in their schedules to see each other

aww, thank you so much! 💛💛 and thanks for the prompt!

Buck knows he should be getting some rest. But if he has to lie sleepless in his bunk and listen to Chim snore much longer, he's going to do something drastic. He creeps out of the bunk room, shoots off a text, and makes his way up to the roof. He's barely sat down by the time his phone rings.

"Hi," he says, and he feels breathless and eager all over again. Still.

"Did you seriously just 'u up?' me, Evan? Aren't you at work?"

"Hey, it was a sincere question. You can tell by the lack of the eggplant emoji."

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah," Buck agrees easily. "I miss you. And your eggplant."

"Evan!" Tommy's so good at sounding scandalized and delighted all at once and Buck grins.

"What are you doing after your shift on Tuesday?"

"Errands, then therapy, then sleep."

"Gotcha. I'm working Wednesday."

"Me too. Thursday?" Tommy suggests.

"Looking after Jee," Buck says, and while he's never going to regret time spent with his niece, this is starting to get ridiculous. "They should be picking her up by eight?"

"Drinks with the team at nine," Tommy says, and he does sound regretful, but part of Tommy working on himself is trying to let himself have more meaningful connections, both in quantity and depth, so Buck's not about to try talking him out of that. "And you're working Friday."

"Yeah. And you have that private flying lesson Saturday, right?"

"Yeah. Should be done mid afternoon if that's any good?"

Buck rubs his hand over his face. "Video call with Eddie and Chris at four, and then I'm supposed to be going for dinner at Maddie's."

"Ah."

"I could come over after?"

"I'd need to leave before seven for my Sunday shift."

"Honestly, at this point, I'll take it."

"Evan."

Buck sighs. "I know, I know."

They're dating now, is the thing. Not going on a couple of dates and then weaving their lives together without discussing it until it blows up in their faces. Actually dating.

"I could - I could tell them. You could come with me."

There's a long, heavy silence.

"I don't think I'm ready for that."

Because they're also keeping it to themselves for now. They both want to see where it goes without any outside influence, to see what it is they settle into when it's just them. It's honestly - it's kind of fun, having this little secret to themselves, going further afield than they usually would for dates, trying new places and new things. But it can't go on forever, and although he's only referred to it jokingly, Buck knows Tommy's worried what people will think - that he screwed up too bad, that they'll hate him, that they'll tell Buck he's an idiot to give him a second chance. Buck's pretty sure that's not on the cards - Maddie might go a little overprotective big sister with a side of pregnancy hormones, but he thinks that'll be it. And that's nothing they can't handle.

"Hey," he says. "Can we talk about this sometime? Check in, see where we're at?"

"Yeah," Tommy promises. "Of course."

"Okay. Monday, then?"

"Monday," Tommy agrees. "My neighbour's been raving about this seafood restaurant in Santa Barbara if you're up for a bit of a drive?"

"Sounds good. Monday's so far away, though," Buck laments.

"I can hear the pout from here, Evan," Tommy teases.

"Well," Buck says, letting his voice drop deliberately into a tone that never fails to make Tommy a bit wild. "You'll just have to buy me a nice meal and kiss it better, huh?"

"God, Evan - "

"I'm off Tuesday too. Maybe we find a nice little bed and breakfast and make a night of it? I can show you just how you how much I've missed - "

He hears the door open behind him and his mouth snaps shut. "Gotta go. Call you later."

Tommy lets out a huff of laughter. "Bye, Evan. Be safe."

"You too," Buck says, as Bobby drops into the chair next to his.

"Hey, Cap."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"With Chim sawing logs one bunk over? I'm amazed anybody can."

"You don't normally struggle."

Buck shrugs, tries not to meet Bobby's eye. Everyone used to tease him about his Tommy-face, his Tommy-voice, his Tommy-pout, and for all they're taking it slow - and they are - Buck knows he's right back there. If Eddie wasn't in Texas, he's pretty sure their secret would have lasted a week, and Bobby's the next best thing when it comes to reading Buck with a glance.

"You doing okay?" Bobby asks.

"Yep! Real good."

"Hm. Apropos of nothing at all, Kaur from B shift is looking for cover. You interested in Friday off in exchange for a six to six Saturday?"

"Yes! I mean. Yeah, I can do that."

Bobby shoots him an amused look. "Okay, then. Happy for you, kid."

Buck grins up at the dark sky. He can push his call with Chris and Eddie a little later, and still make it on time for dinner with Maddie and Chim.

"You coming back inside?"

"In a minute," Buck says. "Just gotta make a call."

"Uh-huh. Tell him hi from me if you like," Bobby offers, patting Buck's shoulder as he goes.

[junplusone]

i'll always say it's you ; yoon jeonghan

summary: you always used to think that even the end of the world couldn’t keep you and yoon jeonghan apart; you’d find your way back to each other somehow. ten years later, you start to wonder if that’s such a good thing after all.

contains: childhood best friends to ??? to ???, swearing, drinking (+ underage), talk of joshua and cheol's arm muscles, mention of drugs in a joke like once i think, caffeine addiction, peak delusion, jeonghan cheating in games as always, hella yearning

word count: 12.98k

a/n: this is lowkey a mess and probably kind of inaccurate loll but i hope u enjoy! feedback always appreciated xx

the me of today hopes for the you of tomorrow

“What about you, Y/N? Have you ever been in love?”

Hearing your own name slowly zones you back into the conversation at the table. You pause at the question, a drop of soju splashing out of the glass in your hand.

“What?”

“Come on, it’s just a silly question,” the young intern says, rolling his eyes. “You’re no fun, Y/N. We’re off work right now! It’s fine,” he drawls, swaying a little in his chair.

You can’t really remember his name right now, downing the glass in one go, but his bold innocence bothers you. Maybe his demeanor, full of life and promise, is what gets on your nerves. 

Were you like that when you were fresh out of college, too? It’s so unthinkable to you now, at twenty-nine. It feels like ages in the past.

“So? Are you —”

“I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation,” you say quietly, zipping your bag shut. “I think I’m going to head out, anyways. It’s quite late already.”

“But —”

“Chan, just stop asking questions and drink this, okay?” His friends try and calm him down with a glass of water. Amidst the chatter, you decide to slip away, silently pushing in your chair and leaving the bustling restaurant. 

Dinners like this always end up making you feel worse, anyways, like an outlier at a table of people with fervent hopes and dreams of their own. 

You make it two blocks until your phone begins to buzz in your pocket, and you fumble to answer it, knowing there’s only one person who would call you at nine o’clock on a Friday night.

“Hello?”

“Oh, you answered,” Yeonju says, evidently surprised. “I thought you’d still be at work.”

“I’m on my way home now,” you tell her. “Why, did something happen?”

“Kind of,” you hear rustling on her end of the line. “Jeonghan called.”

“Huh?” 

You had stopped abruptly at Yeonju’s words— foolishly in the middle of the road, and you rush to the sidewalk, still reeling. It’s been so long since you’ve even heard his name that it sends your mind into a tailspin when she says it again.

“I thought you knew,” she says, “He said he tried calling you first, but you wouldn’t pick up.”

“I don’t answer calls from numbers I don’t have saved,” you remind her. You haven’t had Jeonghan’s number saved on your phone in a long time. There was no need to keep it if you never used it anymore.

“I think you should talk to him.”

“Yeonju,” you shake your head. “Why would I? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“There is, and you know it, too,” she doubles down. “You won’t say it, but I know you agree with me.”

She’s right, as much as you want to pretend otherwise. When has Choi Yeonju ever been wrong about you? Sometimes it scares you how good she is at reading your mind, but as always, she delivers reality checks right when she feels like you need them.

“Maybe,” you admit begrudgingly. “But things are just easier without him.”

“Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy,” she points out, “but take your own time, no rush. And take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I will,” you say with a faint smile.

“OK, perfect. Call if you need anything else, yeah? I gotta go now.”

“Okay, Yeonju, take care.”

“Bye!”

She hangs up just as you unlock your front door, shutting it behind you and kicking off your shoes. The peace and quiet of your apartment welcomes you, and you sigh in relief as you sink into your couch.

Pulling out your phone again, you scroll through your call log. There are a few unsaved numbers, likely just spam calls, but when you see the same number four times in a row, there’s no doubt about who it might have been. Your finger hovers over the screen; should you? Shouldn’t you?

No, it’s easier to just stay angry. It’s easier to pretend his name means nothing to you anymore. 

But even as you toss your phone to the side, Chan’s question still haunts you, like it’s a reminder that maybe you need to retrace your steps and do something different this time. 

God, you had finally been able to go a few days without thinking about him, but today just took you right back to square one.

“Have you ever been in love?”

When you close your eyes, all you see is him.

first time feeling my heart race, never thought it'd beat so fast

TEN YEARS AGO

“Yoon Jeonghan, delete that right now or I’m going to kill you.”

Jeonghan shakes his head vehemently, still cackling at the picture of you on his phone. This is nothing new to you; over the years you’ve gotten used to him finding the absolute worst angles of you whenever you fall asleep in class, or on the bus, and it never fails to get you fuming. 

In fact, if Jeonghan has one talent, it’s probably pissing you off.

“Not my fault you dozed off like that during lecture! Even Yeonju would have bullied you if she was there,” he teases. “I’ve been collecting bad Y/N photos since we were sixteen and in high school, why would I stop now?”

“You’re evil.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“Dinner’s on you, by the way.”

“What?!”

“Do you want to keep that horrendous picture or not?”

“Okay, fine,” he concedes immediately, slipping his phone into his pocket. “But we’re going back to my dorm first because I left my wallet on my desk.”

"Why would you not have that with you? Dumbass," you scold. 

To anyone else, you might sound angry, but somewhere in the unspoken words, you and Jeonghan have already reconciled. 

The weather is chilly and perfectly November-esque, and if not for the thick scarf around your neck you’d be shivering by now. Having Jeonghan by your side adds to the warmth spreading throughout your body, a little piece of happiness found in his company. 

You’ve never needed to explain yourself to him. Somehow, whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s going on, he just knows, and it’s perfect. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Not much to your surprise, Jeonghan’s roommate is there when the two of you walk in, blankets piled over him as he hunches over his laptop. 

“Hey, Josh,” you greet him. “Everything okay?”

“No,” he frowns, rubbing his eyes, “I may have procrastinated a little too hard on this paper and now it’s due in a couple of hours and I’m totally fucked.”

“This is why I told you to drop that philosophy class at the beginning of the semester,” Jeonghan says, pocketing his wallet. “You don’t even need to take it.”

“Just trying to knock off my humanities electives, but honestly, this one kind of backfired on me,” Joshua admits, defeated. “Where are you guys headed?”

Jeonghan points at you accusingly. “This one tricked me into buying her dinner earlier.”

“I did not!” you gasp. “You walked into that one, stop blaming me for the consequences of your actions! Also, I want ramen, which means we’re going off campus, so you’re driving.”

He narrows his eyes at you as he reaches for his car keys. “You are so evil.”

"Takes one to know one, Hannie."

What throws you off is the way Joshua’s eyes flit between the both of you as you bicker, the way he tells you to have fun in that singsong voice of his as you step back out into the cold, like he knows something you don’t. 

You still remember the day you first met him, when Jeonghan left to go grab something after introducing the two of you, and the question that immediately followed.

“Are you guys together or something?”

And of course, Joshua meant no harm — nobody ever does, when they ask something like that. You and Jeonghan have been fielding questions like that since the start of your friendship. Everyone’s wanted to know exactly what it is that you are to each other, and the answer has always come without missing a beat.

Friends, you’ve always said. 

Friends in the way that you can’t go anywhere alone in your hometown without being asked where the other one is, the way that your parents always set out an extra plate and ask if he’s joining for dinner as usual.

The right word for it would be ‘inseparable’. Sometimes, though, you wonder if that’s all that it is. 

Like now, as you notice the cold has Jeonghan trembling next to you. His teeth are chattering, long lashes framing his eyes that are now narrowed in displeasure. 

When you unravel your scarf from around your neck and reach to drape it around his, they go wide in surprise. 

“What are you doing?”

“You never wear enough layers, idiot.” You tuck the ends into his jacket and the way he’s staring at you steals the breath out of your lungs. 

You can’t run from the fact; your best friend is undeniably attractive. It’s a simple truth, down to his soft but sharp features, the slope of his cheeks, and the hair that frames his face so perfectly. It’s dark out, but Jeonghan’s eyes are lit up like stars. You don’t even realize it until you start to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“Thanks,” he says with a faint smile. “What would I do without you?”

“Freeze, probably,” you reply flippantly, but you look away, unable to take the intensity of his gaze on you.

Just think about the way he looks at you, Y/N.

Was Yeonju right? You have no way of knowing, and you don’t want to tip the scales by bringing any of it up now.

“Alright, let’s go,” you say instead, tugging him along to the parking lot. “It’s late, I’m hungry, and you promised.”

“Why do you always seem so excited to drain my bank account?”

“It’s my favorite hobby,” you quip. “Shall we go?”

“We shall, m’lady,” he says as you get to his car, pulling open the door for you with a wink. Your cheeks burn as you get in, his defined features etched into your brain.

Yes, he’s your dearest, oldest friend, but Yoon Jeonghan has a certain way of making your head spin that throws that very title into question.

when half of me is gone, how can i live as one?

PRESENT DAY

It’s been exactly three days since Jeonghan called you, and you haven’t heard from him since then. You don’t know what you were expecting. Another call? A text? 

No, it would be quite stupid to hope for such things after everything that’s happened.

It’s a quiet Monday night, and your brain decides to take an involuntary trip down memory lane. Ten years ago today, you’d probably be doing homework frantically, most definitely an assignment you’d put off until the night of. Ten years ago today, Jeonghan would be by your side. 

Oh, how some things change over time. 

After another hour of mindless TV and doing whatnot on your phone, your conscience finally wins the moral battle against your pride, and you scroll down through your call log again. Taking a deep breath, you decide to call him back before your brain can convince you otherwise.

All the words evaporate out of your mouth when he picks up on the first ring. 

“Y/N?”

God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice. Just the sound of your name from him is enough to make you tear up.

“... Jeonghan?”

Silence. After a few seconds your heart sinks, thinking maybe he’s hung up on you and gone radio silent yet again. 

Then you hear it, just barely whispered into the phone: “I’ve missed you.”

Those words tug at your heart so badly you press your eyes closed to prevent your tears from welling up. “Jeonghan, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“I haven’t heard from you in over a year,” you cut him off. “A year, Jeonghan. Do you really think you can just ‘I miss you’ your way back into my life whenever you want?” 

“Don’t say that,” he implores. “You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. I mean it.”

“I’ve heard the exact same line from you so many times,” you tell him, the rest of your words dying in your throat. 

You have many more things to say to him, so many unspoken feelings, but now doesn’t feel like the time. Instead, you swallow your anger like you’ve done every time he finds his way back into your life.

“How… how have you been?”

“I’m okay. I wrote a new song,” he says lightly. “Shows have been pretty alright, things are looking up… just the usual.”

“Oh, I see.”

“What about you?”

“I’m okay, too.” A blatant lie. “Jeonghan… why’d you call me on Friday?”

“Oh,” he starts, like he’s surprised you even asked. “Um, I’m actually in town for a bit, so… I was just wondering if you wanted to meet and catch up again. Y’know, like old times.”

It’s the flippant edge in his voice that stings more than anything else, as if he doesn’t care that your friendship hasn’t been the same for years. Do you mean that little to him now?

But, like always, you have a hard time saying no to Yoon Jeonghan.

“Okay,” you agree. “Just tell me where, I guess. And when.”

“Okay.”

It’s not for a few seconds that you realize your cheeks are wet. Jeonghan feels so far away now, the distance hurts like a piercing pain and you have to slap a hand over your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sob against your couch, the stoic wall you put up crumbling away with every passing moment.

“Y/N,” his voice is shaky now. “Y/N, please don’t cry.”

Feeling caught and cornered, your brain enters fight or flight mode, and promptly chooses the latter. “I’m not,” you blurt out, and immediately end the call, tossing your phone across the room so you aren’t tempted to call him again.

If time traveling was an option, you’d go back to a decade in the past without a question. For some reason it hurts more that after all this time, Yoon Jeonghan is still the one that knows you the best.

You wake up the next morning horribly late for work, with a blinding headache and a notification from Jeonghan on your phone.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: is tonight @ semicolon cafe ok with you? after you get off work?

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i won’t take up too much of ur time, i promise

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m so sorry y/n

you: its ok. that works, see u then

It’s well past nine o’clock when you finally enter the office. You almost make it to your desk unnoticed until your boss glances at you sneaking in.

“You’re very late,” Seungcheol observes, leaning back in his chair. His gaze is always stern, and today it makes you even more anxious than usual.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “Things just… everything kind of worked against me today. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“I believe you,” he says, casting another concerned look at you as you nearly drop your laptop going to your desk. “Is everything okay, Y/N? This really isn’t like you.”

“Yeah,” you lie through a tight smile. Damn Yoon Jeonghan and his stupid face for ruining your whole day. “Everything’s fine.”

Looking back, it’s quite impressive how you manage to keep your composure throughout your whole workday. You know you’ve accomplished a feat when even Junhui doesn’t really notice anything’s wrong. 

Despite how oblivious he comes across at first, your colleague is easily one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met, as you’ve learned in the past five years you’ve spent at this company.

“Long day?” Junhui swivels around in his chair as he catches you taking a break from your screen.

“Yeah,” you admit, glancing at the clock. Almost five. “Even longer when we get asked to fix all of the intern’s mistakes. How do you just forget to write a whole method?!”

“God, I hope Lee Chan never gets hired as a backend developer. Love the kid, but I’m not sure how he got through college with his code looking like this.”

“Hard agree.”

“Hey, do you have plans after? Me and the rest of the team are probably gonna get dinner together. None of the interns,” he clarifies with a grin. “We need some peace and quiet. I think Wonwoo’s genuinely at his final straw, he’s been downstairs with them all day.”

As tempting as that sounds — Junhui has a knack for finding the best spots in Seoul — you have something more important on your plate for the day.

“Maybe next time,” you decline. “I have to meet someone after work.”

“Oh?” A sly grin spreads across his face. “Someone special?”

“It’s not a date,” you insist, face heating up.

“I never asked if it was, Y/N, you’re just outing yourself at this point.”

“It’s not!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he teases, turning back around. “Keep me posted!”

You roll your eyes.

The end of the day couldn’t have come any slower. Usually, you’d get so engrossed in whatever you were working on that you’d end up staying late, but today you shock everyone by packing up when the clock hits five, bidding Junhui a good night as you almost run to leave the building.

(“Someone’s in a rush,” he remarks when you turn your computer off. “Don’t be late on a first date, it’s not very polite!”

“Fuck off,” you respond, when Seungcheol is safely out of earshot.)

The walk home almost freezes your fingertips, and you have to shove your hands deep into your pockets to keep them from going numb. You make a note to dress accordingly for the biting cold later.

At least the weather matches your mood today.

The idea of a hot shower turns out to be a little too inviting, though, because when you finally step out, hair wrapped in a towel, it’s 6:28, and you have a text from Jeonghan waiting to be opened.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m here, i snagged a table in the back

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, pulling on an old sweater and some jeans. You don’t have time to fully dry your hair, so you just run your round brush through it a couple of times, hope for the best, and throw it into a claw clip, praying it stays up.

You’re officially twenty minutes late when you finally get to the cafe — it’s not too far from your apartment, thankfully, but you still had to book it — and you approach Jeonghan slightly panting and out of breath. 

(If Junhui was right and this was actually a date, you would be royally screwed.)

“Here, sit,” he pulls out your chair, a little alarmed by your flushed face. “Were you running?”

“Yeah. Sorry I’m late,” you answer, and then you look up at him and the air is knocked out of your lungs as if you weren’t already winded from getting there. He’s even more beautiful than the last time you saw him. “Wow, you…”

“I?”

You’re not even sure what the rest of that sentence was going to be, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. Snap out of it. 

“Nothing,” you say quietly.

“How have you been?”

“You already asked me that.”

“I want to know more.” He’s looking at you like he’s trying to memorize your features; it’s hard to ignore. 

“I don’t have anything interesting going on,” you deflect. “Tell me about what’s going on with you. You said you wrote a new song?”

Jeonghan’s face lights up when you say it. “I did. I spent around nine months rewriting and perfecting it. It’s kind of like my child, in a way.”

“Yoon Jeonghan, a father. I never thought I’d see the day.”

He laughs, and it feels like a part of your old selves is back. “Want to listen?”

You nod, and he passes you an AirPod and his phone. “Imperfect Love,” you read out loud. “That’s deep.”

“It came from a pretty raw place,” he confesses. “Something that’s kind of been on my mind for a while.”

“Something or someone?”

Jeonghan’s face reflects something akin to panic. “What are you talking about?”

“This seems like a song about unrequited love,” you deadpan. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Well, it’s not,” he huffs. “Don’t assume things.”

“This is the kind of update I was waiting for. You didn’t tell me you’d found someone!”

“I didn’t!” he insists, concealing a smile. “Will you just stop asking questions and listen already?”

“Alright, Mr. Unlucky in Love,” you tease, securing the AirPod in your ear and pressing play.

The instrumentals are beautiful, and Jeonghan’s angelic voice fills your ears a few seconds later. You haven’t heard him sing in a long time, and you’d forgotten just how ethereal he sounds when he’s pouring his heart into the mic.

The sunlight that happily illuminates this dark world 

Becomes a star when night comes

Come down to me

There are many, many things shining in this world

But among them, you’re the only one that’s precious to me

Jeonghan is watching you nervously, like he’s anxious for what you will say. You make the mistake of catching his eyes, because immediately you falter — they are gorgeous, he is gorgeous, and it feels like you lose time with every second you spend admiring him.

Even if I can’t be the perfect weather for you

Will you still love me like this?

It feels like a silent plea — you wonder what kinds of things have happened to him in the past year that you missed, all the things you don’t know about. 

Together we become old and worn out

Even if you come to me, who’s useless

At the end of a shining day

I’m happy that it’s you every day

The song comes to an end, and you hand Jeonghan’s phone back to him. His eyebrows raise, like a question.

“Did you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him honestly. “I love it.”

A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m still convinced you have a secret crush that you’re not telling me about.”

“Oh, not with that again,” he grumbles, waving off your curious questions. 

What you don’t tell him is that you’ve missed hearing him sing and watching him perform, that the look in his eyes when he’s doing what he loves most is something you adore. There are a lot of things like that you want to say to him, and as good as the both of you are at acting like nothing’s wrong, the situation feels awfully different this time.

“Hey.” Jeonghan has a glint in his eye, the one he usually has when he’s up to something. “Do you wanna leave and go get tteokbokki and fried dumplings at the night market stands instead?”

Your favorites, from when you were a broke college student and couldn’t afford anything nicer. How did he still remember that?

“Yeah,” you say, already grabbing your things and standing. “Let’s go.”

You had forgotten that it was cold as fuck outside.

You had also forgotten that the food stalls were in the opposite direction of your house, so now you’re stuck walking twice the distance in the freezing weather. 

“Are you warm enough?” Jeonghan asks, a bit worried. Stop looking out for me, you want to scream at him. Stop caring. Stop making such a fool out of me.

“I am, but I know you’re not,” you scold instead. “I’ve been telling you for years to dress for the weather.”

“Eh, what’s a little bit of cold?” he jokes, but you catch him shivering violently out of the corner of your eye, and you can’t just watch as he suffers.

“Here.” You pull your scarf off of your neck and hold it out to him. “Wear it.”

“Are you su—”

“Wear it before I take it back.”

You wait until Jeonghan’s listened to you, the warm fabric wrapped around his neck. A part of you thinks you’ll always feel the urge to look after him.

Stop it.

“You still haven’t told me about yourself,” Jeonghan starts hesitantly. “I know I’ve probably missed a lot of things in the past few years.”

“Eight years,” you correct him. “We graduated and then you disappeared.”

“I didn’t disappear, things just got really hectic,” he tries to explain. “Like, all of a sudden everything was on my shoulders, and I had to spend all my time working towards what I wanted. That or it was all just gonna go to waste.”

“Right,” you leave it at that, not wanting to start an argument on the road. This always happens — you’ll run into Jeonghan somehow, you’ll somewhat reconcile, fight, make up, and then it’s radio silence from him again. A year after you graduated college, you stopped looking for news articles on him entirely, actively avoiding any headlines with his name in them. It hurt a little too much to bear. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

You suck in a breath at the quick response. 

“Yeonju’s doing well,” you start, even though he probably knows that already. “She has a cat now, actually. She adopted him a couple of months ago.”

“Really? What’s his name?”

“Mandu, because she says he’s round and fat like a dumpling.”

Jeonghan snorts. “That’s like when Josh told us his dog’s name was Bingsu.”

“Oh, I remember that,” you say, faintly reminded of his college roommate. “Um, there’s not much else, honestly. Junhui is still a major pain in my ass, that definitely hasn’t changed.”

“Your work friend, right? I thought you two got along pretty well?”

“Yeah, we do,” you admit. You don’t need to explain any further, because Jeonghan knows that your sarcastic remarks are reserved for those you cherish the most.

“It’s been a really long time since you introduced us,” he muses. “But I still remember him pretty clearly.”

He remembers you, too, you think to yourself, recounting all the times you’ve ranted to Junhui about all the times Jeonghan got on your very last nerve. Just not as fondly.

“Oh! Wonwoo actually joined the same company two years ago. I think I told you this already,” Jeonghan confirms with a nod, “But it’s really nice getting to see him again, I missed when we used to hang out in college.”

“Aw, that must be really nice.”

“And the three of us still work for Seungcheol,” you conclude.

“I remember him, too. The one with the huge ass biceps,” Jeonghan says, a bit miffed. “I don’t think he liked me very much.”

“He doesn’t like randoms coming in during work hours, which is what you did, Han.”

“Oh. Right.”

Despite his short response, you know Jeonghan is smiling to himself right now, and you kick yourself mentally for letting the decades-old nickname slip. The two of you may be on a truce right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgiven him.

A few minutes later, the lanterns and lights of the night market come into view. A little piece of childhood memory burrows its way into your heart. The vendors and stalls may have changed, but you used to love visiting this street with Jeonghan when you were still students. 

“I really feel so old right now,” Jeonghan remarks as he follows you through the narrow walkways. “I feel like the last time I’ve been here was when we were eighteen.”

“It probably was,” you say. “Oh! Tteokbokki!”

You don’t even realize the way you’re holding on to the sleeve of Jeonghan’s sweater as you pull him along with you in excitement. He doesn’t say anything, just chuckles to himself as he walks behind you.

“Two cups, please,” you request the vendor when you finally get to the cart, and reach for your wallet. Jeonghan stops you before you can get to your pocket.

“No way,” he says firmly. “This one’s on me.”

“Jeonghan.”

“That voice isn’t working on me this time.” He hands the vendor a couple of bills with a friendly smile. “Just let me buy dinner tonight.”

You cross your arms. “No.”

“Why not? You had no problem doing it back in college.”

“Don’t bring that up now,” you say sharply, stung by the familiar memory. Jeonghan senses the shift in your attitude and drops the subject immediately.

“Wait here,” he tells you. “I’ll be back in a second.”

What are you supposed to do with yourself? Oh, you’re a mess, you realize, the way your feelings haven’t been in check for the entire evening. You were supposed to be so calm and collected, and now you’re anything but.

“Here you go,” the vendor hands you two steaming cups of the spicy rice cakes. “One for you, one for your friend.”

“Thank you.”

The man nods towards Jeonghan, making his way back through the sea of people. “Never let go of someone who cherishes you that much,” he says offhandedly, stirring the tteok in the pot.

You just blink, confused. “What?”

Before the vendor can answer, Jeonghan’s already caught up to you again. “There was nobody in line for fried dumplings,” he tells you excitedly. “Here, have some.”

“Thanks,” you say as you exchange with him for the tteokbokki, ignoring the awkward encounter you’ve just had. “We should probably get out of the way and find somewhere to sit down.”

“Yeah, we should.”

There are a few benches at the corner of the street, and you pick the empty one under one of the streetlamps, a hazy yellow glow cast over it. Sitting down, you bite into the first dumpling, the flavor flooding into your mouth.

“Jeonghan.”

“Yes?”

“Is this shrimp?”

“Yes?” He looks adorably confused in the dim light. “You prefer seafood over pork, right?”

Your heart feels like it’s beating at double the pace. “I do,” you reassure him. “It’s really good. Thank you.”

“Try the tteokbokki, too, it’s just the right level of spicy.”

“I will.”

Just being there and enjoying the food in silence reminds you of how easy it is to just be around Jeonghan. There’s no pressure to break the quiet; it’s comforting and peaceful. 

You watch him savor the tteokbokki sauce and smile to yourself when he winces slightly. He’s always had less of a spice tolerance than you.

“Jeonghan?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to vanish on me again when you leave Seoul?”

The question stops him in his tracks. He doesn’t seem to have the words to answer, and the lack of a response makes your heart sink.

“Why are you thinking about that right now?” he says instead, chiding you gently. “Did you finish eating?”

The way you’re looking at him now, your eyes are imploring him. Please don’t make me empty promises again. 

“It’s rude to answer a question with another question.”

Jeonghan rakes a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I’ve never vanished, Y/N, it’s just hard for me to leave my work that often,” he insists, “and besides, you’ve got Junhui and Yeonju and Wonwoo to entertain you in the meantime —”

“None of them are you!” Several people passing by glance over at you, but you can’t help that your voice is rising when you feel the anger bubbling up. “You’re my best friend, Jeonghan, do you have any idea how hard it’s been doing life without you?”

“Y/N, we’re past our youth,” he tries reasoning with you. “We don’t have to be attached at the hip all the time.”

Every word he says is like a knife to your chest. “You shouldn’t have asked to meet up today, then.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Jeonghan shuts his eyes, trying to think of the right words. “I just can’t be there for you all the time in the way that you want anymore. You’re stable, you have a solid job, but my livelihood depends on my music and whether people like me or not. That’s the harsh truth of it. And I’m not getting any younger, either.”

“I’m not asking you to be there for me all the time,” you snap. “All I ever wanted was the occasional message. A few updates. Whether you’re doing okay, how your life is going, things like that. Don’t give me bullshit excuses. I know you have thirty seconds to text me back letting me know that you’re alive.”

And stop playing with my heart, you want to add. Whether you’re aware of it or not.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan swears under his breath. “Y/N, let’s calm down and talk about this inside —”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Yoon Jeonghan.” Your fists are clenched right now. Jeonghan knows this about you; you don’t get angry quite often, but when you do, you are a force to be reckoned with. “It’s always a goddamn cycle with you. You show up, make all these promises, and then abandon me again. What am I supposed to do with that?”

You’re on the verge of tears, but you can’t cry in front of him. Anywhere but here.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he pleads with you. “I don’t know what more to say other than I’ve been trying my best, I really have been.”

You’re not having any of it. “Yeah, right,” you scoff, averting your eyes so you have time to blink the tears away. 

“I mean it. I want to be there for you, but…” he trails off, voice shaky. “It’s just been so difficult.”

“Save it, Jeonghan.” You don’t think you can be here for a minute longer without totally breaking down. “I should really get going now.”

“Y/N, wait —”

“If you took the subway, there’s a station down that street if you keep walking for a few minutes.”

“Wait,” Jeonghan insists, standing. “Let me at least walk you home.”

“No need,” you retort, turning around and setting off towards your apartment. It’s even colder now that it’s completely dark out, and you start to regret your choice of coat as your teeth chatter quietly. All you can do is thug it out for the remaining three blocks to your apartment building.

The wind stings your eyes and you tear up anyway, despite your attempts to keep it down for now. Why did you think today was going to go any better than every other time this has happened? 

Stupid. Your fault for thinking anything would have changed in eight years. 

It’s not until you approach the entrance to your building that you hear the quiet shuffling of footsteps. You whirl around, ready to fight, but you stop short when you see Jeonghan standing several feet behind you.

“Just to make sure you got back okay,” he says quietly, walking over to you. You accept gingerly when he places your scarf back in your hands. “It’s late.”

You don’t even know how to feel; you’re too high-strung with too many lines of thought in your brain at the same time. “Thank you.”

“One more thing.” Jeonghan hands you a small plastic bag. You peer inside.

“What is this?”

“Tiramisu,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

“Oh,” you’re confused. “Why?”

It should make you even more furious that he has the audacity to give you a soft smile, but for some reason it doesn’t.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

The realization hits you belatedly — how did you manage to forget? — that you were so swamped with work commitments, it had totally slipped your mind today. (So that was why your phone had been constantly buzzing with notifications from Yeonju before you’d put it on silent.) 

Jeonghan’s gesture, though, comes as a complete surprise, and it starts to dissipate the irritation from earlier.

“You remembered.”

“Of course,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I never forgot.”

just friends, that's not enough for me

EIGHT YEARS AGO

Normally, you are not someone who is criminally inclined. 

However, it’s currently five in the morning on a day where you don’t have class until noon, so whoever is calling you at this time is most definitely going to end up six feet under.

You answer without checking who it is first, eyes still closed. “Hello?” 

“Happy birthday!”

“Huh?” You lift your head just to be sure you heard correctly. “Yoon Jeonghan, it’s five a.m!”

“I know!”

“Why are you awake?”

“To tell you happy birthday?”

“Thank you, but cut the crap,” you tell him.

“I pulled an all-nighter to finish a project,” he admits. “Worth it, though. I’m the first person who told you, right?”

“You keep forgetting I live with Yeonju,” you point out, glancing over at your sleeping roommate.

“Damn it, Choi Yeonju!”

You grimace at his loud exclamation. “Jeonghan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor and let me go back to sleep.”

“Okay, but I’m waking you up at ten so you don’t skip your linear algebra class.”

“That class is at noon!”

“Yeah, and you take centuries to get ready, dumbass.”

When ten o’clock does roll around, you’re wide awake already. Yeonju is still fast asleep, so you try to get ready for class as quietly as possible.

jeonghan: i’m outside ur building

jeonghan: hurry up i’m hungry

you: ??? when u said u were gonna wake me up i thought u meant u would call

jeonghan: uhh surprise?

“Are you serious,” you mutter under your breath, haphazardly throwing an outfit on and rushing downstairs. Quickly, you press your key card against the reader and push the door open to the sight of Jeonghan leaning against the side wall.

“How long were you waiting?” 

“Long enough. God, you really take forever, but I guess you get a pass because it’s your birthday,” he says begrudgingly, gesturing for you to walk with him.

The weather is quite bleak, but the slight smile on Jeonghan’s face is enough to chase the dreary atmosphere away, like your very own sun.

“Did you sleep at all?” you question, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“I tried, but by the time I finished the project it was already seven and Joshua was up, so I just didn’t bother. That guy’s a freak, I’m telling you. I don’t know anybody else who wakes up that early just to go to the gym.”

“Well, you don’t go at all. Maybe that’s why he has those nice muscles and you don’t.”

Jeonghan’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Are you kidding? Is this why you keep coming over? To ogle Joshua Hong’s arms?”

“Yeah, cause Joshua Hong is my best friend,” you deadpan. “Is it such a crime to just appreciate a nice set of muscles?”

“Okay, okay, stop talking about Josh when you’re with me and get in the car,” he urges, fishing out his keys. “Or we’ll be late and you won’t make it to that class.”

“I don’t even go half the time,” you point out. “And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“What I can do is promise you will be happy and fed by approximately half past eleven.” Jeonghan starts the car, adjusting his mirrors. “Is that good enough for you?”

“Deal.”

It strikes you then, beneath the dim sunshine, how good he looks when he’s driving. His eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on the road, humming along to the song playing through Bluetooth. For all the jokes you throw at him for never being seen at the gym, his arms are quite toned, subtly flexed as he makes a turn with one hand on the wheel.

God, you are so done for.

A few minutes later, Jeonghan pulls into a relatively empty lot. The building is quite unassuming, but you recognize this cafe as the one you frequent during exam season for your coffee fix.

“I love this place!” you exclaim, beaming at him. “How did you know?”

“‘Cause you never shut up about it,” he quips back, grinning.. “Stay here, I’ll just be a minute.”

You hum quietly to yourself as you wait for him to come back, content where you are. There couldn’t have been a better start to your day, aside from Jeonghan’s early morning call, and you think you’d be happy to spend the day just like this, peacefully with him and your closest friends.

In truth, you aren’t really sure how to navigate things with Jeonghan at the moment. Your relationship has always been labeled as strictly platonic, but lately there have been things that make you want to think otherwise. A few stolen glances, the way he looks out for you a little extra… you think you’re going insane. 

That, and the way your heart has been reacting when you make eye contact with him lately has been a bit unsettling.

(“Don’t be so delusional,” Yeonju had told you a week ago. “You have a lot to lose here if anything happens. Plus, it’s Yoon Jeonghan, everyone thinks he’s flirting with them.”

“Yeah,” you’d replied flatly. “You’re right.”)

But maybe you’re allowed to be a little selfish. Maybe those sunlit smiles and most vulnerable moments are memories reserved just for you.

The car door opens again, and Jeonghan pokes his head in, handing you a plastic bag as he gets in. 

“Sustenance,” is all he says. “Eat before you go to class or I’ll have to deal with your hangry whining after.”

His words sound annoyed, but his tone is soft with you, like it usually is. You flash him a grateful smile before pulling the boxes out.

“What’s this?”

“Avocado toast, but yours has egg on it.” He wrinkles his nose with displeasure at the combination. “Plus a little sweet treat for your caffeine addiction.”

“This is beautiful,” you hold up the tiramisu box. “The caffeine is speaking to me, Hannie. We are one and the same.”

“One would think you’re on drugs.”

“One would think living with a chemistry major would teach you that caffeine is a drug,” you tease, sinking your teeth into the golden toast. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now — maybe you shouldn’t have skipped dinner last night. “Wow, this is good.”

“It is,” Jeonghan agrees, “but I’ll stick with no eggs for now.”

“You’re just ignorant and have bad taste.”

“Again, free pass only because it’s your birthday.” Jeonghan waits for you to swallow, then asks, “So, does twenty-one feel any different?”

“Nope,” you say decidedly. “Why would it? The only thing that’s changed is that drinking is legal now.”

“Oh, and you can gamble.”

“Right, but I don’t have enough savings to do that.”

Jeonghan laughs to himself at a stray memory. “Remember when I turned twenty-one? I’ve never had a night more disastrous than that one.”

“I do remember! Anyone would assume you were a raging alcoholic,” you snicker. “Even Soonyoung felt the need to sober up and help me get you back to your place. Do you know how impossible that is for him?”

Jeonghan looks like he’s questioning his whole life. “Yeah, that is pretty bad,” he admits. “Good thing it hasn’t happened since and I’m a responsible alcohol enjoyer now.”

“You drank a whole bottle of soju before your exam last week because you ‘needed to pregame’ or you’d fail it.”

“... Right.”

The two of you eat in silence, careful not to drop crumbs in his car, enjoying the midday quiet with each other’s company and nothing else. It’s moments like these with him that you cherish the most.

Yeonju’s Don’t be so delusional echoes in your head, like a silent rebuke.

“Hey, we should start heading back,” Jeonghan says, glancing at the time. “Let this be the day that Y/N graces the lecture hall with her presence.”

You groan, not wanting to spend another hour and a half trying not to doze off listening to who is possibly the most boring professor at your entire university. Jeonghan pats your back empathetically.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you, “Just think about how you’ll feel later when it’s all over and done with.”

“I’ll feel like it was a huge waste of time and I could have just asked Wonwoo to catch me up,” you grumble. 

Jeonghan’s smile falters a little bit at the mention of your classmate, one of Soonyoung’s friends and therefore a part of the friend group. You still can’t figure out why Jeonghan isn’t too fond of him, but you  just assume they haven’t had the opportunity to connect as much and brush it off.

“He got me through data structures last semester,” you offer, trying to defend your point. “Or I’d probably have failed.”

“Right, I remember,” Jeonghan says absentmindedly. You don’t say anything more until you’re back on campus again, picking up on his sensitive mood. When you start making your way to your lecture hall, he follows you, and you let him.

“I’ll walk you to class, I have to print something out at the student center, anyways,” he explains, bag on one shoulder. “Also, you left this in the car. Eat it after class, or whenever.”

You take the plastic bag he hands you, the faint scent of coffee filling your nose. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan fills your ears with silly stories about his friends over the short walk and you listen carefully, always happy to hear about the boys. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them anyways; you’ve been swamped with work, and time that all of you have free together is quite rare.

“I should go in now,” you tell him when you reach the hall. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you might as well, and Jeonghan can easily read the annoyance written on your face. He pats your shoulder gently.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “Come over later so we can all eat cake and listen to you rant about your god-awful professor.”

“Okay.”

“And so you can get an eyeful of Joshua’s arms, you freaking pervert.”

You gasp. “Am not!” you screech, punching his arm.

“Ow!”

“Take it back!”

“Not afraid to speak my truth,” Jeonghan says instead, feigning injury. “This is literally abuse.”

You roll your eyes. “Get out.”

“Go in.”

“Fine,” you huff, pulling open the double doors, but you look back over your shoulder before you let them close behind you. “See you later?”

Jeonghan nods, a twinkle in his eye. 

(You won’t know it now, but this is the look on his face that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.) 

 “See you later.”

Choi Yeonju is, you discover, the lightweight of all lightweights.

That title had belonged to Soonyoung up until now, but tonight even he’s watching her in disbelief from where he’s perched on Joshua and Jeonghan’s couch.

“I only gave her a shot,” he promises you, eyes big and pleading. “I swear on my life.”

“I know,” you sigh, grabbing her sleeve and pulling her away from the wall she’s about to faceplant into. “It’s okay, I’ve got an eye on her.”

“Sorry,” Soonyoung offers sheepishly. “I know you were planning on getting wasted tonight.”

You were not, in fact, planning on that at all. “Who told you that?”

“Jeonghan?”

“That evil bastard.”

The evil bastard in question is currently deeply immersed in a card game with a couple of others at the small kitchen table. The subtle flush on his face tells you he’s a couple of drinks in, and if you squint enough, you can see the silhouette of cards hidden in the sleeve of his jacket. Typical.

“Y/N!” Yeonju taps your shoulder urgently. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

She grins. “I wanna go to the bathroom.”

“Alright, come on. You gotta stand up,” you inform her gently when she doesn’t budge from her spot on the sofa.

“Comfy,” is all she says, mumbling into the furniture.

“Do you still need to go to the bathroom?”

“No.”

Soonyoung just looks at you in total confusion and shrugs. 

“Nothing to do about it until she asks again,” he says before sinking into the couch beside her. He still looks relatively sober — sober enough to handle the situation if Yeonju decides to walk into a wall again — so you tell him you’ll be right back and decide to check in on the game going on.

You walk in on a crime scene.

“You!” Seungkwan throws an accusing finger at Jeonghan, who you can tell is playing innocent through his surprised expression. “You rigged the game!”

“I didn’t do anything! I won fair and square!”

“Count the cards,” Seungkwan tells Wonwoo vengefully. “There won’t be fifty-two, I’m telling you!”

Jeonghan stands suddenly, laying his hand on the table. Everyone else is too busy yelling amongst themselves, and Wonwoo seems to be content with watching them argue, but you catch the way Jeonghan slips the cards in his sleeve into the pile unassumingly.

“Excuse me, boys,” he says smugly, “but I’m going to go on a little victory walk. Don’t mind me, enjoy!”

Seungkwan grumbles, but lets him go in favor of helping Seokmin back into the chair he’s just fallen off of. In the meantime, Jeonghan sidles up to you, faintly smelling of tequila.

“You seem very sober,” he observes.

“I am,” you laugh. “Not entirely, but sober enough to notice the cards you stashed during the game.”

Jeonghan’s face morphs into one of surprise, then mirth. “Shh,” he winks, placing a finger on your lips. That alone short-circuits your brain, so you nearly miss his next words. “It can be our little secret.”

“Oh, you are tipsy tipsy,” you murmur, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’re up for that victory walk you were talking about.”

“I am! I’m so up for it,” he announces, tucking his arm in yours. “Let’s go take a walk outside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“What’s four plus four?”

He rolls his eyes. “Ninety-two,” he says sarcastically. “Please, I’m not a lightweight like the rest of our friends.”

You cast a glance at the couch; Soonyoung has been roped into listening into whatever story Yeonju’s telling him very animatedly, sitting attentively with his back unnaturally straight. He looks a little scared of her energetic narration, which is a first for someone like him.

They should be fine, right? You don’t plan on being gone for long — usually you wouldn’t think twice about leaving Soonyoung and Yeonju together, but in their current state you’re not sure how chaotic they’ll get.

“They’ll be fine.” Jeonghan mirrors your thoughts as if he’s read your mind. His voice feels a little too close, like his lips are right by your ear. Too close, too close — you’re faintly aware of your breathing accelerating, heart running on sheer adrenaline.

By the time you snap out of it, he’s already at the door, turning to find you when he realizes you’re not next to him. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” is all you can manage before you grab your coat off the hook and follow him out the door. A part of you wishes Yeonju was sober so she could slap the delusion out of you.

Jeonghan opts for the stairs — “We’re only on the second floor!” — and is waiting patiently at the main door for you. The smile he greets you with is blinding, and his eyes crinkle a little more when you return it. 

“Did you bring your keys?”

“Right here.” Jeonghan pats his pocket reassuringly and pulls the door open. “After you, m’lady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you laugh, reveling in the moment. 

It’s windy outside, and you glance over at Jeonghan, satisfied to see that he’s dressed warmly for once. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and for a man his size, his thick sweater is draped over his body in a way that makes him look a little smaller. It’s adorable, and it just makes you want to reach over and squish his cheeks.

“You’re awfully quiet for a man who just won a game against Boo Seungkwan,” you tease gently. Jeonghan chuckles, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

“Nothing new,” he says. “Seungkwan just has bad strategy and won’t admit it.”

“Or you just enjoy cheating a little too much.”

He gives you a knowing smile. “Touché.”

You’re not exactly sure where you’re going; you don’t think Jeonghan does, either, but the two of you fall in step together perfectly on the sidewalk. It’s not too late yet, maybe nine or ten, and the streets are relatively crowded, as expected for a college city.

“Do you think we’ll be really different when we’re thirty?”

You look at Jeonghan, a bit surprised at the question. “What do you mean?”

“Like, we’re twenty-one now,” he explains, “Remember when we were sixteen? We had so many ideas about what we were gonna be, and we’re already there. Five years passed so quickly.”

You nod, reminiscent of your childhood days. “We’re gonna hit thirty before we know it.”

“Do you think I’ll be bald by thirty?”

“If you are, I’ll take lots of pictures of you and your shiny head,” you joke. “For memories.”

“Noo, not my hair,” Jeonghan laments theatrically. “My gorgeous, gorgeous hair.”

You can’t even counter that, because it’s true: Jeonghan must have won the gene pool because his hair has always been soft and silky. It’s longer now than it used to be, curling a little bit just under his ears and brushing the back of his neck.

“Soonyoung’s been campaigning for you to go platinum blond,” you inform him. “He keeps saying if you do it, he’ll dye his whole head bright yellow.”

“Highlighter Soonyoung is really not something I want to see.”

The more the wind picks up, the tighter Jeonghan has his arm looped around yours. His lips are pursed, like he’s preoccupied with something else.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Are we still gonna be friends when we’re thirty years old?”

The subtle, vulnerable tone in his voice surprises you a little bit. Drunk words are sober thoughts, you suppose.

You try to cheer him up, saying, “Why, did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“No,” he shakes his head firmly. “Everything is so much easier with you.”

Don’t be delusional, don’t be delusional, is the mantra in your head as you attempt to ignore your rapid heartbeat. The truth is that you agree — the way Jeonghan just gets you makes things so uncomplicated and free.

It’s been this way since middle school, when twelve-year-old you found home in the boy who always helped you sneak snacks from your desk during class when the teacher wasn’t watching. 

Jeonghan has always been the first person you think of in a sticky situation; he’s always been reliable, above all, because he knows you would do the same for him without even needing to think about it. He’s been by your side for so long, you can’t even picture what a life without him would look like now.

Your next words would never see the light of day had Jeonghan been sober, but you suppose you can get away with erring on the side of honesty.

“Me too,” you tell him quietly, holding onto him just a little bit tighter. “I like life a little better when it’s with you.”

because i love you, because saying i love you isn't enough

PRESENT DAY

The office is quiet when it’s late at night; there aren’t many people who enjoy staying past their stated hours, but you figure it can’t hurt to finish some additional tasks when you don’t really have much to go home to. You can’t remember the last time you had a day to yourself without worrying about deadlines; the lines of code haunt you in your sleep and fill every waking hour. Every night spent working overtime is a testament to your determination, though it crumbles it a little each time.

Today, though, you’re joined by Junhui and Wonwoo, the three of you working under the dim light. The rest of your team packed up and left hours ago, so it’s just you on this floor of the building.

“I feel like my eyes are melting in their sockets,” Junhui complains, stretching for the first time in what you think is a solid eight hours. “I don’t know how Wonwoo does it.”

“He’s a machine,” you joke. He’s got headphones on, most probably noise canceling, so you know he can’t hear you two. (Or he’s choosing not to.) “I just don’t want to go home with this stuff unfinished because I know I won’t stop thinking about it all night.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pulled an all-nighter in the office.”

“Unfortunately.”

Junhui frowns. “You need to take time for yourself,” he expresses. You let him lecture you, even though he’s younger. “Do stuff that you enjoy that doesn’t involve writing code. You know, enrich your personal life.”

“Maybe,” you sigh, putting your head in your hands. “There’s barely any time as of now.”

“Speaking of personal lives, I still can’t believe you won’t tell me about your date,” he sulks. “You’ve always come back with stories about your dates.”

“There haven’t even been that many,” you say at the same time Wonwoo turns around with his headphones off of one ear, asking, “Date? Really?”

You give the man a look. “You didn’t hear us say your name, but that was what caught your attention?”

“Well, Jun’s always talking, but the last time you went on a date was two years ago, so this is news to me.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Junhui reasons. “Everyone has bad dates. It’s a universal experience.”

“Okay, first of all, it was not a date,” you clarify. “I just met up with a friend from college.”

This piques Wonwoo’s interest. “Wait, really? Who?”

“Right, I keep forgetting you guys went to college together,” Junhui mutters under his breath.

“Did you see Yeonju again?”

“It was nobody,” you lie through your teeth, kicking yourself internally for your choice of words. As much as both men know about your ongoing tug-of-war situation with Jeonghan, you don’t really want to bring it up in conversation, and definitely not now of all times. “It went fine, just some catching up.”

“So it wasn’t a date?”

“You really need to stop believing everything Junhui tells you without fact checking it first.”

“Damn,” he says. “And we thought you were finally getting some action.”

“Wonwoo!”

The conversation is interrupted by the low rumble of your stomach in the few seconds of silence that pass afterwards. Both men turn to look at you expectantly.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “I’m starving.”

“I’ll order takeout,” Wonwoo volunteers, already reaching for his phone. “Is kimchi fried rice okay with you guys?”

“Fine by me.”

“With pork?” Junhui asks hopefully.

“Done.”

The three of you promptly get back to work, aiming to maximize the amount of work you get done before the food arrives and you inevitably break focus. By the time the delivery notification goes off on Wonwoo’s phone, you’ve knocked off about three quarters of your to-do list for the day.

Good enough, you reassure yourself, pulling the sticky note off of your desk and flicking it into the trash can. 

Junhui eats in a record time of ten minutes — you swear you’ve never seen him scarf down food this fast before — and starts packing up at his desk, dropping off a couple of notes on Seungcheol’s desk for tomorrow morning’s meeting.

“My girlfriend is going to be so upset if I’m not home soon,” he says ruefully, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Take care, guys! And thanks for dinner, Wonwoo, I owe you one.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You and Wonwoo finish not too long after, and you take your time cleaning up the place, making sure everything is thrown away and in its place. 

“Are you ready to lock up and go?”

“Yeah, let’s head out.”

It’s not until you’re in the elevator, heading to the parking garage, that Wonwoo speaks up again. A little hesitantly at first, but the concern in his tone is still evident.

“Hey, has everything been good with you lately?”

“Hm?” You look at him curiously, wondering what it was that made him ask. “Yeah, why?”

He shrugs, looking down at you through thick-rimmed glasses. “Just haven’t checked in with you in a bit. Seungcheol’s needed me all over the place lately, so it’s been a while since I caught up with you guys.”

“Right, you’ve been in back to back meetings with the design team,” you muse. “Seolhwa was talking about how chaotic it’s been in the restroom earlier.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty tough.”

The elevator opens with a ding! and you follow him out, fishing for your keys that are probably somewhere in one of your pockets.

“I parked a little far,” you tell him, “so I’ll get going now. But I’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting, right?”

Wonwoo just looks at you gently, like he’s seeing right through you. 

“Jeonghan’s the one you met up with, isn’t he?”

You freeze. “What?”

“I had a feeling, but it was a little more obvious when you started getting defensive,” he chuckles. “Plus, I think you forget I’ve known you for nearly a decade now.”

You allow yourself to breathe, relaxing the taut muscles in your neck. “I didn’t want to make it awkward,” you admit. “I know you said you guys still keep in touch sometimes. I don’t want to make it weird.”

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows. “Just for birthdays and things like that. We weren’t really that close in college, either.”

Not really knowing what to say, you stay silent, eyes glued to the ground. He seems to sense this and drops the matter, reaching over to pat your shoulder.

“I won’t pry,” he says lightly, “But if you ever want to talk about it, just know you can always call up an old friend.”

You smile. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”

“Take care, Y/N. Get home safe.”

The drive home is numbing. The playlist you have on dulls into background noise as you focus on the road, fighting the urge to yawn. It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night, and all you want is to be back in your bed.

At the back of your mind, all you can think about is the text you woke up to this morning.

yoon jeonghan: hey, i just wanted to tell you tomorrow is my last day in seoul 

yoon jeonghan: i don’t know if you want to see me or not, but i’ll be at semicolon cafe working for most of the day. pls drop by if you have some free time. i really miss you.

So typical of him, to leave it up to you to go find him. And yet, you would — if it came down to it, you would go to the ends of the earth if he asked you to. 

Yeonju would be furious if you told her you were even considering it, you scold yourself. After all, she’d only told you to speak to him once for your own peace of mind. Last week should have given you all the closure you needed. 

Still, your conscience is swayed at the idea of being able to see him again. 

You shake the thoughts out of your head, as if the subtle action could erase the pain and longing you’ve felt for the past eight years. 

The traffic light turns green. You step on the gas and don’t look back.

even if i can't be the perfect weather for you, will you still love me like this?

SIX YEARS AGO

Jeonghan has been in the studio for hours.

Nothing seems to sound right, and the frustration makes him want to pull his hair out. He can’t even remember the last time he got out of the chair, but he doesn’t want to lose even a little bit of whatever workflow he’s managed to maintain while he’s been in here.

Occasionally, when the weather is just a little dull and time seems to tick by too slowly, he wonders if he made the right choice. Maybe he should have stuck with his career, actually put his degree to use, instead of setting it aside in the name of passion.

He’s vocalized these thoughts to his manager many times, and Jihoon is awfully good at raising his spirits, but the self doubt seeping into his soul is very hard to ignore.

Reluctantly, he presses the play button again, whatever he’s conjured up in the last couple of hours playing in his headphones again. It doesn’t sound any better this time. 

Yes, he could swallow his pride and ask Jihoon for help, but after a year and a half of unsuccessful ventures in the music industry, he wants to be able to do something on his own.

Prove himself; to Jihoon, the world, and you.

Jeonghan will never forget your only words to him when he’d first revealed his plan to switch career paths, just a month or two before graduation. 

(“I always believe in you,” you’d said, following it up with a comforting hug. 

“Always?”

“Always.”)

And when you said that with such conviction, placing all of that trust and belief in his hands, he knew there was no way he could turn back on what he’d set his sights on. In truth, on days where things just seem so bleak, you are his strength, and he wishes he could tell you that.

But when your name comes through on his phone, he falters.

What is he supposed to say? All he can give is excuses, that nothing’s really worked, nothing has panned out in his favor yet. As it is, the two of you haven’t spoken that much since graduating, both of you occupied with your own goals and careers, and at times like these he feels your absence a little extra.

Is this what it means to grow up and grow apart?

For now, he ignores the buzzing, telling himself he’ll come back when he’s snagged his first real achievement. You’ll be proud of him, and he’ll finally make something of himself.

Jihoon walks into the room, closing the door quietly, right when he’s about to listen to the track for maybe the hundredth time.

“Oh, hey.” Jeonghan can hear the exhaustion in his own voice. “What’s up?”

“Wondering when the last time you slept was.” Jihoon sinks into the chair beside him, trying to lighten the mood. “You look like a zombie.”

“Yeah, I feel like one.”

“You need to spend less time in here,” Jihoon advises gently. “Or you’re going to lose your mind. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“I just can’t figure out what it is I’m missing,” Jeonghan sighs, evidently frustrated. “It’s like, almost there, but not really. It’s been killing me for days.”

“You know, these things do take time.”

“Or maybe I’m just not cut out for this and I should just go work for a news channel instead.”

Jihoon watches him carefully, picking up on his slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “And then you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you held on just a little bit longer. Do you really want that?”

Jeonghan doesn’t really know what else to say. He’s been hearing the same things from everyone around him — his parents, his sister; everyone talks of a future where he’s already succeeded, but that isn’t set in stone. Nothing is promised, he knows.

“I need a miracle,” he mumbles instead.

“You need to eat,” Jihoon corrects. “I just placed an order for dinner, and I know you like sundubu-jjigae, so you have no excuse to bail on me this time.”

Jeonghan considers this for a moment, then gives in. “Fine,” he says, “but I can’t stay too long.”

“Good.” Jihoon rises, and then places a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.”

“Thank you.”

He’s alone again, when the door closes behind the shorter man. It’s something he’s had to get used to; he’s learned to rely on himself over the past year or so, but when the reality of loneliness sinks in, it breaks his heart just a little. 

Even more so knowing that it’s his fault that he’s pushed everyone away, including you.

Your name is still burned into Jeonghan’s brain, and his fingers itch to respond, but he ignores the urge. His phone is left forgotten as he slips his headphones on again, tinkering with the unfinished track.

And the thought of you dissolves into the music.

we used to be best friends, i remember you said you can be yourself when i'm around

PRESENT DAY

Today is the day that Choi Seungcheol learns that you are full of surprises.

In all your five years of working for him, he’s never once had you call in sick for work or ask for a day off. You’ve always been hard-working, maybe too much at times, but he sounds like he definitely didn’t anticipate this.

“Oh,” is all he says when you request the morning off. “Yeah, sure. Are you feeling alright?”

“Not really, but I will be before the client meeting at three, so I’ll be present for that.”

“Oh, all right. We’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

It weighs on your conscience that the first time you request time off also happens to be the first time you blatantly lie to your boss, but you’ve already deliberated this enough with Yeonju over call last night.

(“I’ve been such an honest worker,” you said dramatically, “and now I’m running all that to the ground.”

“Don’t be so theatrical. Choi Seungcheol can afford to give you half a day of paid leave.”)

Now that you’ve settled that, you grab your heavy winter coat, setting out into the morning cold. Damn Yoon Jeonghan for making you move your whole day around for him. You had predicted correctly that Yeonju would berate you for it — you sat through a lecture over the phone last night — but that hadn’t deterred your resolve to see him again.

Who knows? His behavior is so erratic that even you, who knew him like the back of your hand at one point, can’t predict him anymore. Today could very well be the last time you see him for another few years until he decides he has the time for you again.

Whatever, you huff to yourself as you walk briskly, knowing that as upset as you get, the soft spot you harbor for him will never go away.

You had worried that it would be a little too early, since it’s only eight in the morning, but you have no problem finding Jeonghan in the sea of caffeine-deprived corporate workers getting their fix in the small establishment. He’s engrossed in his laptop, and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you take the seat across from him, waiting for him to look up.

“Oh,” is all he says, pushing his screen down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t think I would, either.”

Jeonghan gives you a sorrowful look, hair fluffy like a halo around his face. “I’m trying, I really am.”

“Jeonghan —”

“I’m juggling so many things at once,” he says quietly. “And I never wanted you to think any less of me. I wanted you to be proud of me..”

“I was. I still am.”

“But I still haven’t done anything.” He sounds more agitated as he speaks. “I haven’t gotten anywhere, I’ve barely made a name for myself. Nothing I do is paying off.”

“You’re trying, though,” you tell him. It saddens you to see him like this. It’s not often that Jeonghan talks about how he feels, especially not now that you’ve grown so distant. “And you don’t have to go off and accomplish great things for me to be proud of you. I already am.”

He’s quiet, like he’s dwelling on something.

“I’m sorry,” he says a few seconds later. “It’s just all been such a mess.”

“That’s okay.”

In the silence between those two words are many more that don’t need to be spoken for him to understand. You’re doing okay. Everything will turn out okay.

“I wish things could go back to the way they were,” he says again, eyes a little shiny when he looks back at you. 

Nostalgia fills your brain, all of those treasured memories with him resting in a well-lit corner of your heart. 

“You know, it really hurts, Han, to keep doing this push and pull with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” he laughs wistfully, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I never meant to hurt you, Y/N, honestly. And I’m really trying to be better about it. Things are looking up now, I think. It’s getting a little easier than before.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I knew you could do it.”

“How…” Jeonghan starts tentatively. “How long are you here for?”

“I’m not sure,” you reply, fidgeting with one of your bracelets. “Not too long.”

“Are you going to have something to eat?” An olive branch.

“I have food I meal-prepped at home.” A subtle denial.

The silence is loud. You try to think of something, anything to say to fill it, but you come up blank. There’s not much else to be said in the fraught air between the two of you. Not now, anyways.

“I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work,” you say suddenly, eyes landing on his half shut laptop. “I didn’t mean to take time out of your day.”

“That’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m really glad I got to see you.”

“Have a safe trip to… wherever you’re going.”

He chuckles. “Just Jeju, but thank you.”

Before you leave, you reach for the scarf loosely wrapped around your neck — your favorite one you’ve had since college, the plaid cream-colored one — and you set it down on the table. He just looks at you questioningly.

“Why…?”

“It’s cold,” you say with a faint smile. “You haven’t changed, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Thank you.”

You take the time to memorize him — the curve of his face, the soft look in his eyes, the one reserved for you and the ones he holds close. If you could etch his features in your brain here and now, you would.

“Well,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Don’t be a stranger, Han. The next time I see your name, it better be a call from you instead of another news headline.”

Jeonghan nods, eyes forming crescents. “I’ll do my best.”

And there is something to be said about the love in looking back, for sure, but there is also love in not looking back, in choosing to keep your eyes trained on the path before you. There is love in knowing your weaknesses, that if you turn around you might not be able to walk away after all. 

You don’t release the breath you’re holding until you walk out the door. It’s raining, you realize with a start, the previously clear sky clouded over. It seems that your overcast heart has been mirrored by the earth.

The rhythmic droplets provide a strange sense of comfort as you let yourself get soaked, for lack of an umbrella. It works in your favor, anyway, because nobody will assume anything’s amiss if your face is already drenched.

Pit, pat. The smell of wet soil rises in your nostrils, and you let the tears fall.

no matter where i am in the world, i'll say it's you

FOUR YEARS LATER

The lights are blinding, and the sounds of the camera shutters are incessant. But this is the life Jeonghan has always dreamed of, so he doesn’t dare complain.

In truth, he doesn’t care for a lot of the interviews he’s been asked to do — he can’t be bothered by the mundane, mind-numbing questions he gets asked over and over again. Nothing ticks him off like the insensitive digs into his personal life they always ask him, searching for information he doesn’t wish to disclose.

But he does it, anyway, because what choice does he really have? It’s good for your image, Jihoon always tells him, adding another event to his schedule. It’s for your public platform.

“So, you’ve come out with another hit single,” the interviewer starts, beaming at him. His teeth are so artificially white, they seem to reflect the bright studio lights. “How does it feel to accomplish such a success yet again?”

“It’s really great,” Jeonghan answers honestly. “I’m very grateful to my manager, producer, and my beloved family. And, of course, all of the wonderful fans. I couldn’t have done any of this without them.”

“A touching answer as always, Jeonghan-ssi.” The man flashes a smile at the cameras. “Your new single To You was really well received by fans, especially for its fresh and passionate take on what it feels like to be in love.”

The blazer feels stiff now, under the heat of the lights. Jeonghan tries not to dwell too deeply on the true inspiration for the song he’d written late at night a couple years ago, overcome by his own heart.

“I’m really glad that everyone’s been enjoying it so much. That really was the intention,” he says, “to have a song that makes you feel like you’re floating.”

“And it does!” the interviewer laughs. “A lot of viewers really appreciated the sincerity of feelings that was conveyed through the song. Which raised the question; have you ever been in love before?”

Something akin to a late realization suddenly hits Jeonghan right there in the hot seat, under all those lights and cameras. His hand comes up to toy with the end of the scarf he’s wearing, a keepsake of treasured memories.

“Maybe,” he says with a wistful smile.

Wherever you are in the world right now, there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re watching.

“Maybe I have.”

thank you for reading! if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear it :) much love, ashi xx

[sumirhatos]

Photoshoot

Red Velvet - Joy x Male reader

7.3k words

TW: foot fetish, feet worshiping

-----

This is a continuation of Exposed addiction.

Thanks to Nether Blade for helping me with this chapter. ❤️🥰

-----

"Miss Bae, but he works at JTBC, and we are not sure if he has any experience in advertisement filming" says the manager, a little bit confused.

"So what? He proved to be very professional last time, what difference does it make?" she says, raising her eyebrow. "Don't you trust my opinion?"

"N-no miss Bae, I'm just-" the manager was about to share his thoughts of disagreement.

"Then it's settled!" she interrupts him, putting on her Aviators and leaving the meeting room.

**BZZ BZZ**

(Late night 11:26 p.m.)

You were watching videos on YouTube until you are interrupted by a call

Usually you don't pick up calls when you are off work, but this time you didn't even bother to check who's calling...

"H-Hello?" you answer with a sleepy voice

"Okay, good, you are not asleep, I got work for you" says Joohyun.

"Ummm, what?" you reply getting confused by the voice, but being too tired to recognize the caller, so you check the caller's ID. It's Joohyun?!?!

"J-joohyun? I mean, Miss Bae!" you spill. "Sorry, didn't recognize your voice, I'm really tired right now, I've had a very long day and I didn't get enough sleep either" you explain to her.

The events of last night are rewinding before your eyes.

"W-what kind of job are you talking about?" you ask her to try to change the subject...

"Well, just a regular filming job you will manage. Wait for my message. You can thank me later. Bye!" she spills and hangs up.

"What?" you hear nothing but you've been hung up on...

"What the fuck is wrong with that woman? First she kicked me out of the hotel room. Now she offers me a job all of a sudden?" you curse before going to bed.

The next morning you receive the message from Joohyun.

"You were approved for the job by our managers, I'm absolutely sure Sooyoung will be happy to work with you again.😏"

"Wait, what? I have to film Sooyoung?" you reply to her, not that you mind seeing Sooyoung again.

"She will send you the deets later, you owe me one, pretty boy, enjoy the shooting ;)" she replies.

You initially met Sooyoung and the Red Velvet members a long time ago, the first encounter happened when you had just started your job as a part of a filming crew for MBC, being just 19 years old back then.

Red Velvet had just debuted as a group and were invited as guests on the Weekly Idol Show, that's when you met them for the first time.

The other members probably didn't pay attention to you at all, you were just one of the assistants for the filming crew.

But Sooyoung was different, she noticed a young member of the filming crew, the clumsy guy, who was just trying his best to be helpful.

After the filming she even came up to you and said "Fighting!", which was like a breath of fresh air for you after a long day of work. Maybe she was just trying to be polite? Or maybe she pitied you?

Yet somehow you later became sort of buddies, you were someone she could talk to during work, you were her guy in the filming crew, who helped her with small requests, like messaging her about the filming, sending schedules, and sharing other relevant information. Sometimes you hang out together as a part of a group, telling your stories, sharing your experiences in life and much more.

You wouldn't call it a close relationship or anything, but you became sort of friends, to an extent.

A few years later, life becomes more successful for you. JTBC, another broadcasting channel made you an offer you could never pass on, came with a new team, new place, new crew and new position for you: a fucking filming director! They even made their own show, Idol Room, which featured old hosts, from Weekly Idol.

Right away, you became THE guy in the team, so others finally started paying attention to you. Suddenly more people wanted to hang out with you, go for drinks and attend parties together or stuff like that.

Even idols started paying more attention and trying to suck up to you for different reasons. Sooyoung was not an exception, she also asked you for professional advice here and there.

"What's wrong honey?", a voice came from your bedroom, "is everything okay?", she adds coming to the kitchen.

You hoped she wasn’t trying to become closer to you just because of the new important role you had, but that she indeed considered you an interesting person worthy to hang out with.

"Shit...This woman is fucking killing me", you say out loud.

"Well, I just got a message from Joohyun, she got me an extra job... I'm having an ad shoot for Sooyoung", you say with an annoyed face.

"Oh! You can try out a different type of shooting by taking this job and make some extra money as well. Good for you. Joohyun is so nice and generous!", she exclaimed with a smile, "She cares about people she works with so much and even helps them to get more gigs!"

If only she knew what a real bitсh Joohyun is...

"Plus, you have told me that you liked to work with Sooyoung in the past when you had just started your career as an assistant, remember?", she adds.

"Yeah, I guess'', you answer, "but it's Saturday and I wanted to spend the day with you... I should decline it", you add with sadness in your voice.

"Nah", she shakes her head, "It's fine, we can watch Netflix when you come home later today", she smiles. "I know how much you love your job and I don't wanna see you walking around with a sour face all day, feeling bad for not taking this opportunity", she comes to you and pats you on the head.

"Thank you", you simply reply to her, taking her hand and holding it for a moment.

"Okay, chop-chop then, don't wanna be late, right?", she says, clapping her hands.

"Yeah..." you reply to her, still annoyed by the fact that you have to work on a Saturday.

You get up and head to your closet, get dressed into a casual outfit: grey joggers, green loose hoodie with a zipper on top of an LA Lakers print t-shirt.

Then you head back to the kitchen, and see that your girlfriend is munching on her breakfast while watching some news.

"What are you wearing?!?! Are you going to a basketball match? Haha", she says giggling at you.

"Hey it's Saturday, my official day off. I can wear whatever I want!", you exclaim to her light tease, "And who the fuck is gonna stop me? Am I the director or what?!", you say proudly of yourself

"I was joking you little poopster", she says, slapping your thigh.

"Yeah-yeah, whatever", you reply, heading to the door.

You put your sneakers on and head out.

"I'll see you in the evening, I'll try to get home not too late", you say to her heading out.

"Hey, wait. Haven't you forgotten something?", she says, jiggling the car keys in her hand.

She throws them at you and you catch them like Lebron catches the pass from Davis to perform the slam dunk.

"Thanks", you say to her and go to your car.

**BZZ BZZ** your phone vibrates.

"Hello Mr. Foot Fetishist! 😏 I guess we are working again together! I've attached the details. See ya! 😘", was the message from Sooyoung

"Oh god, what is this nickname? Joohyun told you?", you reply to her message...

"Maybe 😋", she replies

You have kept your fetish in secret from her and other idols successfully so far and now Joohyun had to ruin this... And not just anyone, but Sooyoung? Now she’s gonna try to hide her feet from you. Great...

"Hope that nickname doesn't stick for too long though...", you murmur to yourself, while getting in your car.

Heading to the place Sooyoung mentioned in her message, you arrive in about 20 minutes. It's some 3-story building near SM Ent. headquarters.

"I guess bees don't want to get too far from their nest", you say while getting out of the car, you take off your hoodie and leave it inside.

Heading straight inside the building, you go to the 3rd floor, that's what was said in the description Sooyoung sent.

At the entrance to the studio you are stopped by some bodyguard in a suit.

"Can I help you?", he says with a disgusted face. Is it because of your outfit? Probably because you don't look like somebody who might be here for work?

"I'm a filming director from JTBC, here for a Barrel photoshoot with Park Sooyoung.

"Yeah and I'm Lebron James", he mocks you by pointing at your tee.

"Hey listen, I don't want any trouble and I think you don't want any either, right? I'm here for work", you tell him in response. Maybe it sounded like too much...

"The fuck? Asshole

"Guys where is my phone? I need to make a call, Sooyoung asked people walking around her, but then she stops when she sees you at the entrance to the studio.

You are mesmerized... She looks... Well, to say she looks like a goddess would be an understatement... Her makeup has already been done, her beautiful hair is also ready, curling over her shoulders.

She's wearing a white cropped hoodie, a short lavender sports skirt that barely covers her mouthwatering thighs and exposing to the world her long fucking legs, going down, on succulent feet she has light pink summer heels.

"I was about to call you, but unfortunately I can't seem to find my phone in this mess ", she says, pouting. So fucking cute...

Looks like no pedicure today, some toenails might look meh without any polish applied, but that's not the case for Park Sooyoung, her toenails are looking pristine and elegant in their natural color, signaling how well she looks after them.

"Oh, there you are", she comes to your direction, "He's with me", she pushes away the bodyguard.

"H-hello Miss Park", you reply, trying to be formal with her around other people even though you are sort of friends... "So um... I suppose it's a summer outfit photoshoot?"

"Yep, didn't Joohyun tell you about the job?", she asks, taking you by the hand and leading you inside the studio. A very bright place, a lot of light from the studio LED lights.

"No", you shook your head, "she didn't tell me anything about the job itself..." you add just staring at Sooyoung stunned by her beauty once again...

"Okay, we should get to work if we want to finish the whole photoshoot today, there are a lot of outfits I need to pose in", she says with a bright smile.

She then leans towards you and seductively whispers into your ear: "I hope you like it, oppa", she said, giving you goosebumps...

"This is gonna be a long day...", the only thought that crossed your mind.

"Um... Okay guys, let's start, shall we?", she asked without looking for an answer obviously.

"I can see that Miss Park is almost ready", you said, pointing to a girl going through her bags, presumably looking for her phone.

"Found it!"Sooyoung exclaimed, holding onto her phone and holding it up in the air.

"Okay, we are set to film in two settings, one is the regular white background and the other one is with the sand & beach theme", says one of her managers.

She strikes a few poses, which you capture with the camera. Everyone on set is probably appreciating her visuals. The main thing that you are captivated with though are her amazing legs, her ample thighs, strong looking calves and last but not least, her feet, those succulent toes, the arch, the ankles... Fuck...

"Sounds interesting", was your response, "okay, let's begin", you added. 

While you are usually supposed to instruct the person that is in front of the camera, Joy is a natural, the camera loves her. After all these years of knowing her, you have figured out there is not much direction to do with her, so you let her improvise.

"G-Good job Miss Park, you are such a pro", you comment a little bit nervously, getting yourself a smile in response from her. She knows you are staring.

"Okay, we will proceed with the next outfit", her manager said. Sooyoung left for a couple of minutes to the changing room.

Coming back she's wearing another lavender color outfit: long sleeve sporty top and very short shorts, once again exposing her amazing thighs to your eyes, completing the look with a baseball cap of the same lavender color, on her feet she had peach colored sneakers. Whole fit looks very beautiful.

You take a few pics in the setting with sand and a few regular pics, after that she left for the changing room once again.

"Good, next!", the manager said again.

Couple of minutes later, she comes back in a surfing outfit with black tight pants, a tight light blue top and the same peach sneakers.

"Uhh... It's too hot in here", she says waving her hands in front of her face. All of a sudden she takes off her sneakers, freeing her appetising feet from their shackles . Playfully she shows her shoes in the camera and you took a shot of that. Sooyoung giggled at you. If only you could sniff those shoes...

This girl knew exactly what she’s doing, those natural colored toenails are looking so fucking delicious, it drives you crazy. If you two were alone you'd have jumped at her to feast on each of her toes. The thought of it made you sweat even more...

To shake off  the intrusive thoughts, you tried to concentrate on taking photos of Sooyoung, while she was posing.

Moving to the setting with sand she looked like a true surfer girl, who just came to the beach and is getting prepared to ride the waves.  She sits down and plays with the sand.

You take more photos of her and they come out cute rather than sexy.

"Okay, time for the next outfit, I suppose?", you ask one of Sooyoung's managers.

Sooyoung gets up and leaves to the dressing room once again to return in a very cute blue chequered dress.

"Okay, for the last two outfits we want the beach setting", the manager says.

"Oh, so I don't need my shoes then?" Sooyoung asks the manager.

"If you don't want to, sure", the manager replies indifferently.

Glancing at you, Sooyoung smiles and elegantly takes off the heels that she wore previously at the beginning of the shooting session and then tiptoes to the beach setting.

There is something about sandy feet... Something alluring that makes you desire her feet even more...

"Wish I could see her cute little toes"...

Right that moment as if she heard you, Sooyoung lifts her left leg a little out of the sand just enough for you to be able to see her cute toes.

Those feet need to be worshipped, those toes need to be sucked, those soles need to be massaged and licked... Sooyoung looks at you and giggles once again. Can she actually read your thoughts?

You snap more pictures of her once again, while she is spinning around being playful in front of the camera.

"Okay, last outfit, Sooyoung", the manager says.

You check your watch and to your surprise you’ve already been shooting for 2 hours... It seems the time passed very quickly because of the hypnotizing beauty of Sooyoung, so you lost the sense of time.

Sooyoung heads to the changing room, as she passes you, she runs her finger down your cheek and gives you a hungry glance.

"Uhh... This girl...", you think, "What if somebody notices?!?!", it seems Sooyoung doesn't care.

It took a few minutes for her to return in another jaw-dropping outfit: yellow one-piece swimsuit that tightly hugs all of her curves, denim shorts, once again not covering her thighs and topped off with a blue cap on her head, kind of cute. Another perfect beach outfit.

She sits down in the sand, her butt is resting on her soles, which are covered in sand once again, that swimsuit almost doesn't cover her back, leaving little to your imagination, such an amazing body, and such a pretty face, the face that you have splattered with your cum just a few days ago...

Flashbacks from that incredible night are coming back to your mind making you feel fired up once again... She on her knees in front of you, her face painted with your load... Fuck...

Sooyoung looked at you with a smirk once again, as if she knew exactly what you were thinking right now. You stopped taking pictures, staring at her through the camera, you couldn't take your eyes off...

"Okay, good job everyone", her manager said,"and thank you for helping us with the shooting, sir", she addressed you.

"Uhh... Yeah, thank you guys, good job", you reply awkwardly to the manager and the whole crew, "I'll be happy to work with you next time if I have a chance", you add.

Meanwhile everyone started to pack their things, cameras, lights, screens and etc., Sooyoung gracefully stood up and headed to the changing room.

"Sooyoung we will be waiting for you in the van, to drive you home", her manager says to her heading out.

"Nah, that's okay, I have to discuss something with opp-", she stops mid sentence,"I have to discuss something with the director here", she continues.

"Y-Yeah?, you say with uncertainty, seeing her glare at you, "right, we have to discuss... Yes...", you try to come up with something, but nothing comes to your mind.

"Yeah", she glares at you, "Next shooting for Barrel, remember? I've told you that the contract includes a few photoshoots", she elbows you in the side, signalling to you to play along.

"Oh, yeah! How could I forget this? The next shooting, ha-ha", you say with an awkward laugh.

"Oh, okay, we can wait", the manager replies.

"It's fine, he'll give me a ride home, right?" Sooyoung smiles at you.

"Yeah, I will, definitely, I'll drop off Miss Park at her place, don't you worry", you try to reassure her manager with an awkward smile on your face.

"O-kay, see you on Monday then. Bye", the manager says. She bows to you and leaves the studio with other staff members.

Seeing them out you bow last time. Then you get hit by something on your back, you look at Sooyoung, she has taken off her shorts and threw them at you. That yellow one piece swimsuit barely covers her ripe peach... All of a sudden you are hungry...

"I'll be right back", she says getting into the changing room, "don't peek", she says smirking at you.

"I didn't even plan to", you reply to her. She shuts the door.

One minute later Sooyoung comes out wearing a white dress paired with white sneakers, her hair is tied back in a ponytail to reveal her cute forehead.

"Okay, let's go", she says heading for the exit. You say nothing following her while checking her from the back. In addition to her juicy thighs she has very muscular calves.

Heading to your car you keep staring at her ass and legs.

"Enjoying the view?", she says, turning around all of a sudden.

"Yes", you answered firmly without any hesitation.

"Good", she smiles, "is this your car?", she points at a red sedan.

"Yeah, get in", you say, opening the door for her.

"Oh wow, so there are still gentlemen left in this world!", she exclaims with a grin on her face. You decided to say nothing, just replying with a smile.

She gets inside your car and you close the door for her. After that, you go to the back of your car to put your camera and your bag into the trunk and then go to the driver seat.

Sooyoung has already gotten comfortable in the seat beside you and was waiting for you inside.

"So, what did you want to talk about?", you asked her when you got in, put the key in and started the engine.

"Well, I just wanted to hang out with you, you've been busy not attending any parties, so I was wondering how have you been lately? Plus, my manager would have talked about work all the way, if I had taken the ride...", she says with a weariness in her voice.

"Yeah, I've been busy working on new stuff for our channel", you point out.

"I also don't want to go home alone...", she said with sadness in her voice.

"You should've invited your friends to hang out then", you suggested.

"Yeah? Who for example? My group members?" she asked.

"Yeah, why not?", you said to her calmly

"We see each other all the time", she replied. "So, I've decided to invite you instead. Joohyun told me that you are fun to hang out with", "Joohyun told me, everything", she said, taking off her sneakers, reclining her seat and putting her bare feet on a dashboard.

"A-am I?", you replied startled by it, trying to concentrate on the road instead of her legs.

"Do you like mine?" She asked with a grin obviously meaning her succulent toes which she was wiggling on a dashboard.

"Y-yes, of course", you gave her a short reply, peeking at her feet.

"Good", she said, shifting in her seat and putting her feet into your lap, "oh yeah, that's better", she added.

Moving her feet slowly all over your lap, she provokes an already forming bulge to get even harder, making it hard to concentrate on the road.

"Sooyoung, I'm driving!", you exclaimed, not even trying to get her feet from your crotch.

"You know, I never expected you to be a feet kinda guy, but now that I think about it, there were some hints to it", she smirks, grinding her right foot on your bulge.

"R-really?", like what?"

"Well, whenever I wore some open toed heels, you were complimenting my shoes, I just thought that you actually have taste in shoes'', she replied, still rubbing your bulge through the pants.

"Sooyoung...", you groaned.

"Should I stop?", she grinded her foot on your shaft even harder.

You say nothing... Yes, it's dangerous to drive like that. But what can you do? Are you even capable of telling her to stop? Of course not, you can't tell her to stop. Even if you did, she'd not stop what she's doing.

Smirking at you she brings her left foot to your right cheek.

"So, I need an answer, should I stop?", she repeats the question with a slightly seductive tone.

"No...", you finally reply, so she continues to smother your cock with her right foot and starts caressing your face with her left foot. Next move was kinda predictable. She placed her toes on your lips, you opened your mouth welcoming a few of the toes inside.

"Ooh, Joohyun did mention that you like feet, but she didn't mention you are so freaky about it", she giggled surprised at your initiative.

Her toes tasted weird, somehow you catch some alcohol flavour, so you dare to say: "your toes taste weird"

"Did you think I'd put my shoes on without wiping the sand off it?", she asked, "I used antiseptic wipes, also why would I want to poke you when my feet are dirty, it sounds disgusting...", she continued.

"Well, I wouldn't mind, because it's you", you said, taking her toes out of your mouth and switching to kisses.

"Ewwww, you are a freak", she resented, snatching her feet from you, "why would you want to lick dirt, yikes!", she exclaims.

"Nah, it's not like that, to be honest, but if it's someone I like, I'd do that", you commented on her antics,massaging her feet with your right hand.

"Yeah, it's more like a display of affection that I'd want to worship your feet even though they might be dirty", you reply, gently massaging her left foot with your right hand, rubbing her sole with your thumb, running it along the whole length of her foot from bottom to the tip of her toes, still wet from your saliva.

"Umm, so you like me?", she asks, getting shy from your words, you can notice that her cheeks are getting a little pink.

To your disappointment Sooyoung takes her feet off your lap and sits properly in her seat, putting on her sneakers.

"Well-, you were about to answer, but you get interrupted

**You have arrived at your destination** - the voice from the navigator announced

"D-Do you want to come in?", she asks awkwardly, trying not to look at you. But why is she so awkward all of a sudden?

"S-sure", you reply with the same awkwardness in your voice.

You two get out of the car without saying a word and head inside the building, past the concierge desk, into the elevator and to her apartment on the 15th floor. Entering the apartment you are greeted by the sunlight coming from the all floor-to-ceiling windows at the side opposing the entrance door.

"Make yourself at home", she said, putting on some fluffy slippers, as went off somewhere.

"O-kay", you mumble, she probably didn't hear that anyway.

The whole apartment was dominated by light colours, bright curtains, pale walls, it's almost as if the light was radiated by the owner's aura.

You sit on a white chair next to the huge windows, through which you can see the whole city.

A minute later Sooyoung comes back with two beer bottles.

"Here, I figured you wouldn't mind something to drink", she says, sitting right next to you on another chair, she hands you one of the bottles.

"Yeah, thanks'', you reply, "the view is amazing, it's like the city is in the palm of your hand'', you continued, opening the bottle and taking a sip.

"Mhm, that's one of the reasons I chose this place, you can see each part of Seoul from here, the view calms me down", she comments.

You look at her, a gorgeous girl is sitting in front of you, drinking beer, "Yeah, it is indeed a peaceful sight to see", but obviously you were talking about her, not the view from the window.

"Can I take a picture of you? It's a very nice view, it will look good", you ask her all of a sudden, pulling out your camera, good thing that you have a habit of taking it everywhere with you.

"Sure", she puts down the bottle of beer and looks right into the camera "what should I do?", she then asks, acting if it was some other photoshoot.

"Actually, be natural, casual photos are the best, to be honest, I don't want you to be professional right now", you say while taking a photo of her.

"Okay, if you say so", she replies, relaxing in the sunlight, as it pierces her black hair curls, making her shine like the star she is.

You take photos from different angles, zoom in, zoom out. After that she gives you a grin, pointing at her feet, and you gladly take a picture of her soles.

"Do you want to kiss them, oppa?", she asks, looking at you with those sexy eyes of hers, looking at you in anticipation of what you are going to say.

You don't have to be asked twice, so you put down the camera, lean forward and place your lips on the bottom of her toes. First you kiss the toes of the left foot, going from the pinky all the way to the big toe, then on the right foot you go from the big toe to the pinky.

When you are finished you lean backwards, waiting for the next command.

"Cute, now lick my feet", Sooyoung giggles.

So you obey the same way you followed Joohyun's order the last time. You started to lick Sooyoung's feet, first the right foot from the tip of her toes to the bottom and then from the heel to the top of the left foot, savouring the salty taste of her delicious soles.

"Hihi, it tickles", Sooyoung chuckles looking at you, but she doesn't move, letting you do the job, "Now suck on my toes, oppa", she commands wiggling her toes in front of you.

You obey her once again, starting with her right foot once more, you suck on each of her toes, one by one, alternating between sucking, kissing and licking them, trying to clean every bit of her succulent toes.

After that you start licking and sucking between all five toes on her left foot while trying to envelope them in your mouth. Sooyoung's foot is definitely wider than Joohyun's, but you can't complain about that.

"Oh wow. Do you love my feet that much?", Sooyoung asks you, staring at you again with those lewd eyes of hers.

"Mmm, I guess the answer is yes'', she giggles admiring your thorough work, her toes are glistening with your saliva, those are surely clean now.

She leans forward and runs a finger down your left cheek "Such a submissive oppa, do you like it when I command you?", she asks you seductively. You nod in response.

"Get up and undress'', she said, and you don't ask why. Following her command, you take off your hoodie, t-shirt, joggers and socks. Sooyoung bit her bottom lip watching intently as you took off your garments.

Then she leaps at you and begins to touch your body, starting with the chest, she trails to your abs and starts going even lower, to the only part that remains clothed. With both of her hands she gently palms your prominent bulge up and down a couple of times, going lower to your ballsack, cupping it softly as massages your testicles.

"Mmmm, it feels so full, have you not been released for the past few days?", she asks looking right into your eyes and licking her lips, you just nod.

"Let me help you with that", she says, removing your undergarments, freeing your dick from its cover. Your cock springs out and bumps her into the face, Sooyoung bursts into a laughter because of that, which makes you laugh as well. 

"Your little friend is a quick one!", she giggles. She spits on your cock to lubricate it and proceeds to jerk you off.

Stroking your now naked shaft with her right hand at a good pace and continuing to grope your balls with the left, she extracts a moan from you indicating your pleasure. That's when she stops.

"Okay, continue oppa, you got one more foot to clean'', she says putting her right foot on the edge of the leg rest so you could have better access to it, leaning back into her seat, she closed her eyes waiting for you to proceed.

You kneel in front of her and do the same amount of worshipping to her right foot, sucking on each of her toes, leaving no dry space.

After that you grab both of her ankles and put the soles on your face. Her toes are on your cheekbones and while her soles rest on your lips. It's so soft, so divine and beautiful. It feels like time has just stopped completely. There is nothing in the world right now, it's just you and Sooyoung soles.

"Khm-khm", Sooyoung clears her throat.

"Oh, sorry, they looked so soft, so I couldn't resist to feel them on my face", you replied to her, kissing her heels

"Oh yeah?", she says, smothering your face with her feet, softly pressing them on your cheeks, "do you like that?", she asks without stopping moving her feet all over your face.

"Yes'', you reply between kisses and nibbles on her soles. Sooyoung produces a soft groan of satisfaction. After a few more seconds you go lower, her heels receive the same treatment of licking, kissing and sucking, making Sooyoung groan again.

Kissing her left ankle you go higher to her calf and to her thigh and then to her-

"S-Stop", she says all of a sudden, withdrawing away from you to sit properly in the chair .

"I didn't tell you to do that, are you impatient, oppa?", she says, her face getting red... Is she shy?

"Yes...", you reply desperately. Of course you are impatient. You want her, you want her so bad it hurts...

"I've noticed, but I'm not done playing with you", she says putting her feet in your crotch, "I think your friend wants to play too", she adds with a smirk on her gorgeous face.

She teases your shaft with her left foot, rubbing the tip between her big toe and her index toe, meanwhile massaging your balls with her right foot. It doesn't take long for you to leak pre-cum all over her toes.

"Fuck, Sooyoung...", you moan her name. She's doing a number on you.

"Lay down", she commands, throwing a cushion at you to use for your head. Then she stands up and goes to the kitchen to grab some unidentified bottle from the counter.

When she comes back you are already in a horizontal position ready for your mistress in anticipation. She sits back on the chair and pours some brown-ish liquid substance all over her soles and toes.

"Hope you don't mind honey, I don't have anything else here haha, she laughs and pours it on your cock.

She proceeds to rub it into your shaft and balls with her feet.

"Oppa is so hard for me", she says, pressing your length with her sole against your stomach. She trails it from bottom to the top with her right foot all the way through your length, while pinching your ballsack with the toes of her left foot.

As a result of Sooyoung's work you start to moan each time she completes the stroke with her foot.

"You are already leaking, haha", she giggles, rubbing your precum with her toes, griding it just between her big toe and the second toe for a brief moment and then completely stops.

"I'm also leaking because of you oppa...", she says, slipping her right hand under her dress, trailing a slightly darker wet spot on her white underwear.

"Sooyoung let me taste you", you said, starting to get up to help her with her "problem", but she held you back in place with her feet not letting you move.

Instead, she slips her hands under the dress and slips the underwear off underneath. Then she slides it to her thighs, down to her ankles and then off her legs. She grabs them and throws them away.

"Do you like the view?", she asks, rubbing her now exposed clitoris with her fingers, while playing with your shaft with both of her feet this time.

She places your cock between her soles and starts to fuck you with her soft feet, it's not slow this time, in a few seconds she has picked up a good pace, making you grunt almost every time her feet reached the bottom of your shaft.

"Fuck, Sooyoung...", you moan her name helping her motion by thrusting between her soles.

"Do you wanna cum?", she moans, fingering and rubbing herself with almost the same pace of her feet.

"Yes, fuck, I'm getting close", you grunt, increasing the speed of the footjob even more.

"Ah-h, y-yes, I'm close as well, oppa", she moans once again, also increasing the intensity of her hand work.

"Are you gonna cum, oppa?", she asks, "O-oh, yes, yes give it to me oppa, she grins at you.

"Y-yes, Sooyoung, you are gonna make me cum so hard!", you grunt in a low voice trying to resist the urge to release your pent up spunk all over her feet. Just a little bit longer, just a little bit, you don't want this to end.

"Yes, yes oppa, blow it all over my beautiful feet that you love so much", she says staring right into your eyes.

"Gonna cum all over my soles? Or maybe you want to paint my lovely toes and tops white with your creamy seed?, she asks switching from fucking you with her soles to rubbing you with her lovely toes again.

"Fuuuuuck, Sooyoung-", you moan her name out loud, being unable to say anything else.

"I guess I should decide then", she says, coming to a full stop and then gets down on the floor. She spins around so her ass is facing you. She lays down on her stomach and places her feet back on your shaft.

She resumes fucking you with her feet in a reverse footjob.

It doesn't take long for you to reach your limits, bringing you to the edge of your release. 

You grab her by the ankles and help her fuck you with her feet till you cross the line of no return.

Sooyoung's name is coming out of your mouth in a moan of pure satisfaction. The volcano has erupted.

First spur is released from the tip of your shaft with quite a high velocity and lands on her right leg, droplets going here and there from the calf down to her sole.

"Yes, yes, give me all of your cum, yes!", Sooyoung demanded, slowly stroking you with her feet.

Second blob released in a string across the whole length of her left sole that you had just cleaned with your mouth, staining her foot from the heel to the toes.

Next spur was not powerful enough to make an "explosion", but as most of the eruptions happen, your hot lava was going down your length reaching sooyoung soles, which are still gently pumping your shaft on both sides.

"Wow. Oppa, if I knew you would have such a big load stored in there I'd not let it go anywhere but inside me", Sooyoung says in a surprise.

She sits up and reaches for your cock, now pumping the remaining cum out of you with her right hand.

The last few weaker pulses of your cock released the remaining cum on her fingers, milking you completely dry.

She flips over on her back, lifting her legs a little to show you her soles covered in your white paint. Then she spreads the cum she just extracted out of you all over her toes, rubbing your load into her skin.

Doing the same with her soles and after playing enough with her feet and your cum, she brings her hand to her lips and licks remaining semen off her fingers.

"Mmm, so tasty", she says with a giggle on her face.

"I guess honey helps", you say.

You are spent, laying there on the floor you feel completely exhausted after an intense high that you just had.

But...

In a blink of an eye Sooyoung is between your legs sucking your cockhead trying to milk any cum that is remaining inside your half erected cock.

"Fuck, Sooyoung, please", you moan her name again, trying to get her off you.

But you are too weak to do anything, she ignores your plea as she’s pumping your shaft with her right hand in a tandem while bobbing her head all over your length.

This magical sudden blowjob on your sensitive cock makes you moan even louder than before.

She brings you to full erection again and with a pop she takes your penis out of her mouth.

"Shall we go for round 2?" Sooyoung asks, getting up and helping you up as well.

But right that instant you are interrupted by an intercom call.

"Oh come on, who could it be? "Sooyoung whines, heading to the door.

"Yes? Who is this?", she answers the call with an annoyed voice.

"Hey, Sooyoung-ah, it's me", you hear a very familiar voice from the intercom, but can't really recognize who it was exactly, definitely someone you know or met before.

"Oh, shit. Unnie, I totally forgot that we are having a slumber party tonight. Come in", Sooyoung replies and presses the button on the intercom, which opens the door.

"Get dressed. Quick!", she says to you slightly panicking.

You take all of your clothes and run to the bathroom to get dressed, meanwhile Sooyoung proceeds to clean herself and the floor with wet wipes she grabbed on the counter.

The bathroom is pretty big, there is a big bathtub and a separate shower, the sink countertop is filled with a lot of different skin care and makeup products. Well, that is expected for a girl like her, her face needs to be perfect all the time.

One minute later you come out from the bathroom and head back to the living room. Sooyoung and her guest are discussing something in the kitchen.

"Well, well, well. Who do we have here?", a girl with black long hair asks.

"Umm... Hello Miss Kang", you mock her a little by addressing her with her last name.

"Lol, drop this bullshit, we are not at work", she replies.

"I apologise, Miss Kang", you say and all 3 of you burst into laughter.

"Anyways, what are you doing at Sooyooung's place?", she raises her eyebrow.

All of a sudden awkward silence descended in the room...

"Uhh... Did I interrupt something?", Seulgi asked, breaking the silence.

"Not really, we were discussing some work matters", Sooyoung answers, "but we actually just finished, right?", she added, addressing you.

"Y-yeah, we just finished discussing the next photoshoot for the fashion brand Sooyoung is working now.", you replied, adding to the lies Sooyoung just said.

"Oh, right you've had the first photoshoot today, how did it go?", Seulgi asks you two.

"It went very well!", you answered, "Sooyoung did a great job, so photos came out very well", you added.

"Yeah, it was nice, but the painting is as good as the painter that works on it", Sooyoung said, winking at you.

Your phone buzzes. Incoming call your girlfriend.

"Well said Sooyoung!", Seulgi said approving her point.

**BZZ BZZ**

"My apologies ladies, I need to take this call, might be important", you say to them, heading to another room.

You go to the guest room and pick up a call.

"Hello, what's up honey?", you reply.

"Hello, we need to talk", she says.

"Sure, what's the matter?", you say curiously.

"Not over the phone", she answers.

"Oooookay?", sure. I'll be home shortly.

"Okay", was her reply and she hung up.

What the heck was that? Uhh...

You head back to the kitchen to Sooyoung and Seulgi.

"Okay ladies, I gotta go home", you said.

"Oh, that's sad, I thought you gonna stay for a little, but it's fine", Sooyung says with a disappointed voice, "Hope we can hang out again like that next time", she winks at you, obviously alluding to continuing what was left unfinished.

"Yeah, sorry, duty calls", you both head to the door.

You put your shoes on and head out. But before you leave Sooyoung stops you and gives you a peck on a cheek, absolutely throwing you off guard.

"I-I'll see you later", she says right after blushing away. And just like that from a fling Sooyoung made this much more complicated.

"Y-yeah. B-bye", you said rushing out.

"Okay that was random, I'll deal with this later", you said out loud going downstairs to your car.

So you just head home, but you are unable to get thoughts of what just happened out of your head. That kiss on your cheek from Sooyoung... What the fuck?

[fluentmoviequoter]

Reassurances

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: Luca's fellow S.W.A.T. members tease him for dating someone who is younger and out of his league. Though he knows they mean well, sometimes he needs your reassurances.

Warnings: brief angst, insecurities, teasing, fluffy comfort!!

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

A/N: Luca deserves all the love!!! He gives the best hugs in the world, I just know it. (Sorry if he's OOC, this is my first time writing for him, but I will be adding him to my character list if anyone has more requests for him!)

“Luca! Your daught- sorry, your girlfriend’s here, cradle robber!” Rocker calls when he sees you.

“Knock it off, Rocker,” Hondo replies, turning to Luca to add, “The brainwashed model is here.”

“Guys,” Deacon chides. “Take it easy.”

“Thank you, Deac,” you say, waving as you walk past them to the situation room.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” Luca asks, pulling you into a hug.

“Just wanted to see you. I was in the neighborhood,” you answer, practically melting at Luca's touch.

“You’re sure everything’s okay?” he checks, pulling back to look at your face.

Smiling as you look into his icy blue eyes, you nod.

“Oh, I got you something while I was out this morning,” you remember. “Want it now or later?”

Luca’s gaze flits over your shoulder, looking at his team and a few members of 50-David not so inconspicuously watching you. “Later sounds good.”

“Luca,” you say quietly, “you know they’re just teasing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Forcing a smile back on his face, Luca returns his full attention to you. “What else do you have planned today?”

“Not much. I’m probably gonna go sit at your house and wait for you to get home.”

Luca chews the inside of his bottom lip, debating if he should tell you that you can do whatever you want and that you don’t have to make special trips to see him.

“Hey,” you say, tapping his chest. “I want to see you. But if you’re busy, that’s fine.”

“No, ‘s not that, just…”

“Luca, I want to.”

Luca nods, his eyes and smile dropping as you approach him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeeze him tightly.

“Okay, I get it,” he says through a laugh, tapping your back.

 “I’ll see you tonight, then?” you ask, tilting your chin to catch his eyes.

“See you tonight,” he assures, rubbing between your shoulder blades.

As you exit S.W.A.T. HQ, you’re glad Rocker left already. 20-David’s teasing is clearly all in good fun, but Rocker always takes it too far, instilling doubts in Luca. You will never grow tired of reminding him that you love him, want him, and will choose him over and over for the rest of your life, but sometimes you want to put the other S.W.A.T. members in their place.

✯✯✯✯✯

While you get comfortable at Luca’s house, he counts the minutes until he can pull you into his arms again.

“Big plans tonight?” Deacon asks.

“Just a night in,” Luca answers.

“Only option at your age, isn’t it?” Street jokes.

Luca doesn’t reply, and Street looks at Tan. The rest of 20-David shake their heads at each other, acknowledging that they took it a step too far.

“Luca, I didn’t-“ Street begins.

“It’s good,” Luca answers, closing his locker. “See you tomorrow, guys.”

“Bye, Luca,” Deacon calls. He turns toward Hondo, who shrugs.

“We may need to lay off him for a few days,” Hondo suggests.

“Trouble in paradise?” Rocker asks as he enters the locker room. “She remember there’s guys who don’t need to early bird discount?”

When no one replies, Rocker raises his head and asks, “Is he okay?”

“We don’t know,” Street answers, looking at Luca’s locker. “But he has to be. If he’s not, it’s our fault.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The door opens, and you rush to greet Luca, wrapping your arms around him as he closes the door. You know something is wrong when his arms don’t immediately circle you. 

“Luca,” you say softly, pushing your fingers through his hair, disturbing the gel he put in it this morning. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, his shoulders lowered and drawn toward each other.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while? I, for one, could use some good company.”

“You could get better company,” Luca whispers.

Sighing, you wrap your hands around Luca’s arm, leading him to the couch. After you push him to sit, you turn toward the kitchen to get him a drink, but his hand leaps up and catches your wrist. The questioning look in his eye, like he thinks you are leaving him, is enough to break your heart. Kneeling before the couch, you raise your hands to Luca’s cheeks.

“Look at me?” you request.

When he lifts his tired, glassy eyes to you, you silence. You’re not immune to insecurities - no one really is - but seeing Luca questioning you and your relationship like this is especially painful.

“You’re all I’ll ever want,” you promise. “I will choose you, Luca, every single day.”

Luca shakes his head, and you gently press your hands against his cheeks as you comfort him.

“You wanna know something about me?” Luca’s gaze raises back to your face, and you say, “I could marry you right now.”

Sniffling, Luca leans closer to you. Moving your hands down to either side of his neck, you lean between his knees, pressing your weight into the couch.

“The guys,” Luca begins, taking a shaky breath. “I know they’re just teasing, but they’re right about so much, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Tell me what you think they’re right about.”

“You’re too young for me, way out of my league… You could do better than me.”

“Can I ask a question, and promise not to take it the wrong way?”

Luca shrugs, and you crack a small smile. 

“You have to at least say you’ll try,” you add.

“I’ll try.”

“Why’s it bothering you so much today? Some days you roll with the punches, and joke with them. Today was different, though. Did something change?”

Dropping his chin, Luca presses his face against your arm beside his jaw.

“It’s me, right?” you ask. “You realized you’re in way better shape than me, that this whole time you’ve been out of my league.”

“What?” Luca mumbles against your forearm.

“I mean, you work out all the time for work, chasing down bad guys and jumping out of helicopters. You got tired of my joints cracking every time I stand up, right?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Luca says with a chuckle.

“Exactly.”

Luca shakes his head, and you wipe a stray tear from his cheek. You stand, keeping your hands on him as a tangible promise that you’re not going anywhere. Luca looks up at you from the couch, following your movement.

“I mean it,” you reiterate, “I could marry you right now. Dressed like this, and that’s saying a lot.”

Dressed in a stretched-out t-shirt that once belonged to Luca and your favorite, comfiest bottoms, you hope you’re getting your point across.

“How are you not tired of me yet?” Luca asks. “We have this conversation too often.”

“I don’t mind telling you how I feel. Luca, I love you, and I will scream it from the rooftops… maybe not this rooftop because you moved to a neighborhood filled with known gangs.”

You sigh as Luca finally returns your hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing a hand under your shirt to press against your back.

“Tell me,” you murmur.

“I know you love me,” he answers. Moving his hand further up your spine, he adds, “And I love you.”

You smile, turning to sit beside Luca. He leans against you, his eyes stuck to yours as he smiles.

“Don’t ever listen to Rocker, he’s an idiot. I don’t know how he got married before you.”

“Maybe he’s the one that brainwashed somebody.”

Chuckling, you agree with Luca before remembering the surprise you got him. Moving out from underneath him, you disappear into the guest bedroom, and when you reemerge, Luca is watching for you.

“It’s not much,” you begin, “but I got you this.”

Luca pulls you back onto the couch before extending his hand. You lay the small package in his palm, turning to watch him open it.

As Luca removes the paper hiding the gift, you realize you are the lucky one in this relationship regardless of what he thinks about who is out of whose league.

Luca moves his hand to catch the two toys that fall toward his lap. Turning them over, he smiles as he looks at the diecast cars.

“Is this supposed to be Black Betty?” he asks, raising the vintage Hot Wheels S.W.A.T. van.

“I saw it and thought of you. Like I said it’s not much, but-“

“It’s perfect,” Luca interjects. “You’re perfect.”

Leaning toward him, you take the van from his hand so he can examine the matching police car.

“You deserve nice things, Luca,” you remind him. “And you deserve to be happy with whoever you want, no matter what your team says.”

Luca nods, setting the cars on the table before pulling you into his arms. He doesn’t always have the words to say, but his actions and everything he does for you show you that he loves you and wants you, even when thinking he doesn’t deserve you.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into S.W.A.T. HQ the next week, after receiving a less-than-informative text from Luca, you cross your fingers that any teasing he encounters won’t push him as far as last time.

“Somebody get a chair lift for Luca! He needs to get to another level before she realizes she left him behind!” Street yells when he sees you.

Luca hears the commotion as Tan and Hondo join in on the teasing and rushes out to meet you. He hugs you, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you toward the situation room.

“What’s it like dating someone who’s so far out of your league?” Rocker asks, a teasing smile on his face.

“At least we have standards and didn’t scrape the bottom of the dating barrel,” Luca replies, “but that’s more of your thing, right?”

Rocker’s jaw drops, and you press your lips together to stifle a laugh. 20-David, however, doesn’t try to hide their amusement, turning their teasing to Rocker as they follow him out of the ring.

“That was unexpected,” you say, smiling as Luca continues walking again.

“Still want to marry me?”

“Of course,” you answer without hesitation. “Wait, right now?”

Luca raises his brows, smiling as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Not what I meant, but why not? You’re all I’ll ever want.”

Luca cups your jaw, and you whisper, “Reassurances are my job.”

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track three: something about a beat

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, hopeless stupid pining, alcohol, mentions of deceased parent, maki is Fed Up, anxiety, unbearably cute dogs. || sfw. 9k words.

“OKAY, IT’S UP,” Nobara says, grinning at you over her laptop. You’re sprawled across the living room at Takuma’s place, surrounded by a random combination of your band and his while others are in classes. After spending last night mixing the single, Takuma helped Nobara set up an artist profile for the band, and now your music is available on streaming services. Just like that.

“That’s so weird,” you say, grinning as you pull up Spotify on your phone. Next Fix by Cursed Technique. Strange to see your face on there, a photo taken of all of you by some freshman when you last performed at The Fix. Nobara sends the link in your group chat, and Toge responds within seconds.

freak no. 1: FAME freak no. 1: FORTUNE freak no. 1: wait it’s not opening freak no. 1: nvm i’m just stupid

“Does he ever pay attention in class?” Nobara mutters. Maki snorts.

Yuta is also in class, but that means he’s locked in, all his devices on Do Not Disturb. You don’t think Toge’s turned DND on a single time in his life.

“I’m going to Kinji’s!” Kirara shouts from the front entryway, and Yuji leaps to his feet and disappears down the hall, barreling back out of his room seconds later.

“Wait! Can you give this to Panda while you’re there?” He hands her a drive, and Kirara rolls her eyes and takes it.

“You need to slow down every once in a while,” she says, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Okay, bye. I’ll be back in a few hours.” The dogs follow her to the door and return the living room when she’s gone, curling up on either side of Megumi, who’s busy writing some paper in the corner.

“What was that?” Nobara asks.

“Demo drive for the radio station,” Takuma says. “Panda plays our stuff sometimes. I bet he’d play yours, too.”

“That’d be sick,” Nobara says approvingly. She turns to bother Megumi, poking at him until he takes his headphones off and talks to her, and Yuji strolls into the room and flops down directly on the floor.

“Comfy?” you ask, poking him with a socked foot.

“Mm. Yeah.”

“Ah, look what you did, Kugisaki,” Megumi says, and you look up to see Shiro trotting toward you with her tail wagging, having abandoned her post at her owner’s side.

“That was not my fault! You’re the one who moved.”

“Because you kept poking me!”

You immediately slide off the couch onto the floor, letting Shiro sit in your lap. “Um, excuse me,” Takuma says, offended. You crane your neck to look up at him behind you on the couch. His face is lit up by his computer as he works on a string of code he tried (and failed) to explain to you, and there’s laughter in his eyes despite the affronted tone of his voice.

“Favorite,” you inform him with a wide, cheeky smile. He very maturely sticks his tongue out at you.

“Toge message,” Nobara informs you all, reading off her phone. “He says omg we have four listeners do you think they’re writing slutty fanfiction about us already.” She glances at you. “Petition to remove him from the chat—oh, look, he started sending the wolf memes again.”

Hanging out like this has become natural so quickly you almost forget you haven’t been friends with Shibuya Incident for ages. You feel almost as much at home in the tapestry-covered living room here as you do in the plant-filled kitchen of your own house down the street.

Maki checks her watch, sighing. “We should get going soon. The guys will be back in half an hour.” Then you have rehearsal, even though you’re not one of the three bands performing tomorrow night. When you do take the stage next week, you want to be ready.

Nobara is trying to read Megumi’s texts over his shoulder, which isn’t working out well for her, and he tells Maki, “Yes, please, take your invasive little gremlin home.” He puts his hand right on Nobara’s face and pushes her away, and she screeches and tries to tackle him, but he’s already sitting in a beanbag chair in the corner, so it doesn’t really do much except make Kuro jump on top of them both.

You glance up at Takuma again, still stroking Shiro’s fur while the others start to stand, ready to head home. “You rehearsing today too?”

“I’d hope so,” he shrugs.

“Yes, dipshit, in two hours. If you ever read the group chat,” Megumi says.

Takuma doesn’t seem fazed by Megumi’s irritation and just shrugs. “We have a new song for tomorrow.”

“You didn’t tell me!” You poke at his knee in retribution for his secrecy. “I wanna hear it!”

“You will,” he says. “Tomorrow.”

“Skipper, help, I don’t wanna walk our gremlin home by myself,” Maki calls from the door, and you reluctantly pat Shiro on the head and stand. She follows you to the entryway and sniffs at you while you cram your feet into your sneakers.

“Maki Zenin.” Nobara turns up her nose and crosses her arms over her chest. “If you hated me so much, why didn’t you just say so?”

“Bye!” Yuji shouts from the living room, and you all call out varying goodbyes and noncommittal sounds before making your way out the door and down the block, the afternoon air chilly against your cheeks.

Nobara waits all of ten seconds before spinning around and walking backward, grinning at you mischievously. “I bet Ino wrote a song about you.”

“Oh my god. Shut up,” you laugh. “He didn’t.” You can’t imagine you’ve given him all that much to work with. What would he write, that you like coffee and drums and Megumi’s dogs?

“Why else wouldn’t he show you? Don’t you guys text each other song lyrics like the little romantic fucks you are?” Your face is flaming, and you’re suddenly very grateful for the cool of the wind against your skin. The idea of him writing a song about you plants something weird in your gut—not something bad, just something unexpected and warm and blooming.

You try not to show it and your friends see right through you, Nobara turning back to skip up the drive with a satisfied grin and Maki rolling her eyes at the both of you.

“I’m gonna write a song, too,” Nobara declares, unlocking the door and pushing her way inside. “Skipper and Ino, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S—”

This time, you and Maki speak in tandem. “Shut up!”

—

“There’s a joke here,” Gojo says, tapping both of his index fingers together while he thinks. “About being a drummer and a journalist. Something about a beat.”

You laugh, jotting another note on the lined paper of your small spiral notebook. “I hate to tell you, but I’ve heard that one before.”

You’re not sure features qualifies as a specific beat, more of a broad category, but your staff isn’t nearly large enough to assign people to smaller specialties. Plus, it’s a college publication, designed for experimentation and growth. Nobody wants to be boxed in yet. That’ll come later, out in the monotony of the real world, and you’ll be confined to some hyperspecific beat like neighborhood crime or high school basketball.

“No!” Gojo cries, dragging his hands down his face like it’s the end of the world. “I can’t believe somebody plagiarized me before I even said it.”

“That’s not how that works,” Utahime cuts in dryly, sliding three shots across the counter to the waiting group of sophomores and then effortlessly throwing together another cocktail.

Gojo leans toward you, shadowing out your notes, and stage-whispers, “You see what I have to put up with?”

You do, actually, see what Utahime has to put up with. She long ago put down a line of blue painter’s tape to divide her side of the bar from Gojo’s, and she preaches frequently that there will be dire consequences if he crosses it.

Of course, he crosses it at every opportunity, and here he is, still.

It’s also just how the two bartenders split up the work, the customers, and you write that down too, that it’s an effective division of labor. “Don’t read my notes,” you tell Gojo as he squints at your writing upside down. “It’ll wreck the journalistic integrity.” He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout that reminds you violently of Toge, who’s taking photos of Utahime as she works.

You glance over to the stage, where Angel is performing the last number of her set, a bouncy, belty song that you recognize from a video she posted earlier this week. The crowd loves it, dancing around and singing along, but still, you think she’ll have a tougher time making it through as the only solo artist remaining in the competition.

You whoop and cheer as she hits her last note, holding it for an ungodly amount of time, and Gojo eventually has to abandon his teasing to do his job. When Toge thinks he’s got enough photos, the two of you slip back into the crowd, Panda commentating on the change of artist as you catch up to your friends.

“And now, here’s your alt rock duo, your boys, the Kamos,” he says as you come to a stop beside Yuta. “Give it up!”

Nobara very loudly gives it up.

“Hi.” Yuta nudges you. “How’s the reporting going?”

“Good.” Noritoshi and Choso settle in on stage, tuning their guitar and bass and making girls swoon in the front row but somehow remaining entirely oblivious to it. “You’re not going home tomorrow, right?”

Yuta shakes his head. This weekend is fall break, which just means that there were no classes today. You spent the first day of your three-day weekend cramming for midterms.

Toge’s heading out after this and Nobara will leave early in the morning, but Maki and Yuta will be here for the weekend. You wonder about Takuma and his band, but you can’t ask right now—they’re all backstage, waiting to go on after the Kamos.

The boys in question, when they’re not doing covers, have incredibly nonsensical song names that have little to nothing to do with their lyrics. The first track of theirs you ever heard was called Song About the Time My Dog Got Lost for Three Hours.

“Okay,” Choso says after their cover of a song by The Smiths. “This one’s called Please Don’t Tell Your Mom I Was At Your House Past Curfew.”

He and Noritoshi then proceed to play the most upbeat, energizing alt rock shit you’ve ever heard. You love these guys, and the crowd does too, the way they don’t take themselves too seriously but they’re genuinely talented. But it’s making you nervous for Takuma and his band, because only one group goes on tonight. Only one.

No, you think, shrugging it off. They got this.

When Shibuya Incident finally walks on stage, the ensuing roar of applause before they even do anything eases whatever worries you might have had. They were slotted at the end of tonight’s set for a reason. Everyone loves them.

Without prelude, they launch into a song you recognize from their EP, a fast-paced track with a pretty simple chord progression that gets entirely flipped on its head in the bridge. You let Yuta spin you around as you dance with the rest of the crowd, the lights and sound washing over you. Yuji’s in his element, Kirara is fucking killing it, and Megumi—as always—is the rock the band stands on, unerring tempo and steady presence keeping everyone on track.

After the song finishes with a crazy riff from Kirara, and the crowd takes a minute to freak out and then slowly wind down, Takuma grabs the mic to address the audience.

“Hi again,” he says, scanning the clusters of people from his place on the low stage. His gaze lands on you and your friends, and he smiles a little wider. “That was Godspeed. We’re gonna slow it down a bit for our next song. It’s a new one. We’re calling it Curious.”

Nobara practically launches herself over Toge to get to you and shake you by the shoulders. “What did I say?” she hisses.

“Oh my god,” you say, shoving her off. “They haven’t even started yet.” But you look back at Takuma to find he hasn’t stopped looking at you.

To your surprise, the instrumentals don’t start first. Most of Shibuya Incident’s music opens with a riff or a fill or at least four bars of introduction. But this time, Takuma leans into the mic and starts singing, just a low “ooooh,” and the rest of the band comes in one by one—Megumi, then Kirara, then Yuji. Kirara’s harmonizing on a higher note, and the effect is a slow, dissonant build that makes you lock in, all anticipation.

Then Takuma tugs the mic from the stand and sings,“I see your eyes, curious, curious, you wanna know why the sky’s so goddamn blue. I hear your voice, curious, curious, you’re asking me if I’d ever fall for you.”

And as you listen, Nobara’s smile just gets wider and wider, and Takuma keeps making fleeting eye contact with you, and you realize abruptly that she was right.

This song is about you.

Takuma’s said it to you before, in passing, how he likes the way you look at the world—through a journalist’s lens, curious about how everything works, always searching for unseen answers.

“Wish I could see my life like you do,” he and Kirara sing in unison. “Wish I could walk the streets each night… wonderin’ if the full moon sees you, but I just keep lookin’, lookin’ down at the time.”

You’re transfixed, just like the first night you saw Takuma perform live, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the stage if you tried. Someone should write a story about him, you think. This man could be on the cover of Rolling Stone and you wouldn’t question it.

God, you’re so far gone, aren’t you?

When the set is over, the last song finishing with a long, drawn-out chord, Takuma thanks the crowd and hands the mic off to Panda to take over. As the band disappears one by one into the backstage area, he lays out the voting process.

“The voting period will last ten minutes, assuming no technical difficulties,” he says. “QR codes, as usual, are posted around the bar. If you’re a competitor, you can’t vote. Make sure you’re logged into your .edu accounts or you won’t be able to access the form…”

Your fingers are tapping nervously at your thighs, the crowd around you already glued to their phone screens. The band isn’t back out on the floor yet—Panda will call all three artists up at the end of the voting period and announce the finalist live.

Sweat is starting to pool in the palms of your clammy hands, and you wipe it on your jeans, anxious. To you, there’s no question. But it’s not up to you.

“Relax,” Yuta says, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “It won’t even be close, Skip.”

After the longest ten minutes of your life, Hana Kurusu, the Kamos, and Shibuya Incident join Panda back on stage, a dramatic spotlight bouncing between each artist as Panda draws out the announcement. “And the artist from tonight moving on to the finals in two weeks is…”

“Just say it,” Maki huffs beside you, and Yuta chuckles and nudges her with a shoulder. She tries to hide the slight upturn of her lips, but that’s not going to slide past you.

You’ll tease her later. For now—

“Shibuya Incident!”

The reaction is explosive, both on the floor and the stage. Yuji practically leaps onto Kirara’s back, and Takuma’s face goes slack in surprise before a shy smile works its way across his spotlit features, Megumi being his nonchalant, unaffected self in the midst of it all. Nobara is screaming, and you’re yelling at the top of your lungs, Toge whooping and snapping photos as the Kamos and Hana crowd the band, congratulating them on the victory.

Takuma looks out into the crowd again and you wave, smiling unabashedly, so fucking proud and excited and thinking maybe, maybe, if you make it too, you’ll be facing off against each other, and wouldn’t that be something?

Maybe you shouldn’t be so thrilled. He’s the competition, after all.

But if he wins for going up there and singing curious, curious with his eyes locked on yours, you suppose it wouldn’t be all that bad.

—

Most of Saturday passes in a barrage of classwork and inconsistent, snacky meals in between, the diet of a harried college student, ramen and chips and whatever actual food Yuta leaves for you in the fridge. He’s back from work by three, and Maki wraps up her own work around the same time you do, late afternoon creeping into evening. The three of you are curled up in the living room, the TV on while Yuta and Maki try to pretend they’re not looking at each other.

You need to get them alone.

you: are you busy takuma: not at all takuma: what’s up? you: mind if i crash your house?

You glance up and swear Yuta has somehow, in the last two seconds, moved closer to Maki on the couch.

you: i think yuta and maki need some ~ALONE TIME~ takuma: TEA takuma: sorry kirara told me to stop saying that in response to everything that happens ever takuma: it’s fun tho

“I’m going to Takuma’s,” you announce, and Maki raises a brow at you.

“Again?”

“Sue me for having friends.”

Yuta’s brows crease a bit at the word friends, but he doesn’t comment. With a furtive glance back, you grab your shoes and slip out the door, successfully leaving Maki and Yuta alone in the house for an indeterminate amount of time.

Please, you think. One of them has to make a fucking move soon.

Takuma answers the door before you can knock. “Hey.”

“No pups today?” you ask as you step past him into the entryway, kicking off your shoes.

“Sadly,” Takuma says. “Fushiguro took ‘em with him, wherever he went. Ah, man. Did you only come over for them?” His tone is teasing as he closes the front door behind you, trading the October cold for the warmth of the house. “Afraid I’m a letdown.”

“Takuma,” you scold at his self-deprecation. “You’re basically an excited puppy yourself, so—”

“Hey!” he squawks, and then thinks about it and tilts his head, conceding. “Fine. Maybe. Yeah, okay.”

“What have you been up to?” you ask as the two of you make your way to the living room.

“Procrastination. Guitar instead of homework, mostly. You?”

“Same,” you sigh. “Well, not the guitar part. But I should have been way further ahead on my homework by now.” You shrug. You’ll get it done; you always do.

You settle in easily on the couch, and the two of you boot up the Wii and play a few rounds of Mario Kart because someone left the disc in. And when you’ve both beaten each other enough times to lose count, Takuma mentions something about your single and you realize you haven’t checked the stats.

“You can see more on a computer,” he says, and you follow him up to his room, where he cedes control of the device to you. You pull up the artist profile and grin at the steady upward climb of listeners. It’s not a ton, but this only went up on Thursday.

“We haven’t even done anything to promote this,” you admit, spinning in Takuma’s desk chair to face him. “I don’t even know how people are finding it.”

He immediately looks down, which means he knows something. You nudge him with your foot. “What? What does that face mean? Takuma.”

“I maybe gave Panda a drive of the mix,” he shrugs, talking fast like the meaning of the words might elude you if he mumbles enough. “And he maybe played it at the radio station earlier today. Several times.”

A wave of affection crashes into you so fast that you jump up and throw your arms around him without thinking, laughing into his shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that!” You pull back, grinning. “That was really sweet. Thank you. Seriously.”

“Ah, it was nothin’.” He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck, a gesture you’ve come to recognize as self-conscious.

“Not nothing,” you say softly. He smiles.

After a moment, he glances at the window and seems to come to a decision. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey yourself.”

“Wanna go out on the roof?”

You blink, processing the words, instinctively looking to his window. You’ve never really realized it before, but it opens out onto a flat expanse of shingles, a perfect lookout right outside Takuma’s bedroom.

Your grin is answer enough, and he unlatches the window and pulls it open. He glances back at you, up and down, and you feel yourself blush before you realize he’s taking in what you’re wearing. He grabs a thick jacket from the closet and tosses it to you, then shrugs one on himself and leads the way, gripping the window frame with one hand and pulling himself outside. After a moment of consideration, he reaches back in and grabs his acoustic guitar by the neck from its place against the wall, pulling it out with him.

When the window shuts behind you, you’re immediately grateful for the protection of the extra layer. Even with your hands balled in the sleeves of your hoodie, it’s chilly out here.

You’re surprised by how much of the campus you can see spread out in the distance. It’s early evening, but the days are getting shorter, the sun a misleading blaze of heat in the otherwise cold hour.

“This,” you say, “is fucking awesome.”

“Right? I called dibs on the room as soon as we toured. For this.” He grins, leaning back on his palms, legs spread out in front of him. You lie back on the roof, letting the cool surface seep through your hood, staring up at the sky.

“So Maki and Yuta,” he says, shaking his head fondly. “Are they finally a thing?”

“I don’t know, but if they’re gonna do anything about it, it’s not gonna be while anyone else is home.” You shrug, or at least do whatever approximation of shrugging you can when you’re bundled in a bulky hoodie and jacket and lying on a roof.

Honestly, Yuta and Maki are some of your favorite people on this planet, and you can’t imagine anyone else who really deserves them. They’re the de facto mom and dad of your group—as in, Yuta is the band mom and Maki’s the gruff father who won’t admit his affection for the pet he didn’t want to get but ended up loving anyway.

“Man, I’m glad I wasn’t around when Kirara and Hakari were in their pining phase,” Takuma chuckles. He pulls his legs in, sitting cross-legged, and picks up the guitar, idly tuning it as he speaks. “Then there’s Itadori, probably picks up girls everywhere he goes and has never once realized it.”

“What about Megumi?” You let your head loll to the side, looking at Takuma with the guitar settled in his lap.

“Fushiguro? I don’t know, man, he doesn’t tell us anything. He has like, resting yearning face. I’ve got no idea. I don’t even know where he is right now, just that he’s supposed to be back really late.”

“That means the dogs will be back?” you say hopefully.

Takuma shakes his head, strumming another chord, and another, fingers moving deftly across the frets. “I’m not enough for you, huh?”

“I said no such thing.”

He plucks out a happy little melody on the guitar, looking at you. “Wanna learn?”

You sit up, your hood falling back off your head in the process. “Really?”

In answer, he hands you the guitar, scooting closer to you to show you where to place your fingers. You’ve been around your bandmates enough to know the basics, but you let him teach you anyway, giggling a little when he guides you through a three-chord progression and says, “Damn, you’re a natural.”

He leans back and stares at the sky, listening to you play. Eventually you add a few other basic chords into the mix, varying your strumming patterns, already feeling the strain in your fingertips from the unfamiliar press of the strings.

“So,” you say, still idly messing around on a G chord. Takuma props himself up on his elbows, looking over at you. “What was the incident in Shibuya? Have you been to Shibuya?”

He snorts. “Nope. Honestly, it was more to make people ask the question. You know in the Marvel movies, how Hawkeye and Black Widow are always talking about Budapest?”

“And nobody knows what the hell happened there,” you say, laughing. “Ah. I see.”

“I’ve never even been to Japan,” Takuma admits. “Fushiguro has, though. Maybe he had an incident in Shibuya. Who knows?”

G, C, D. D, C, G. You play the chords over and over, strumming softly, slowly, letting your finger catch on each of the strings, then five of them, then four.

“This is a really nice guitar.”

“Yeah.” There’s a beat of silence that makes you glance up, weighted differently than the usual pauses in conversation. Takuma is sitting up now, knees pulled loosely to his chest. “Was my dad’s.”

“He taught you to play,” you remember aloud, recalling your conversation in the coffee shop. But now you’re hung up on that word: was. Part of you doesn’t want to ask, but part of you feels like his words are a sort of quiet invitation, like he wants to tell you, but doesn’t want to force it. “I… is he…?”

“He died when I was twelve,” Takuma admits, eyes fixed on the sky. “Uh, car accident. It was stupid, some issue with the other guy’s car. Couldn’t stop it.” You’ve never heard his voice like this before, taut, oddly thin. Carefully, gently, you set the guitar on the roof beside you, watching him.

“Were you…”

“In the car?” Takuma sniffs. “Ah. Yeah.”

“Oh,” you breathe, and that’s what it is, more of a breath than a word. “I—Takuma…”

When he laughs, there’s no humor in it. It’s a hollow kind of chuckle, one that says everything he can’t. “It’s why I learned to skate, actually,” he says quietly, not meeting your eyes. “I’d get everywhere that way. I didn’t—want to drive, I guess. Got my license late and everything. I think people thought I was just a slacker.”

Whatever words you might scrounge up feel inadequate for a grief this large. You don’t want to pity him, and you don’t want to dismiss him, and that’s always the problem with hard conversations, isn’t it? What a line to walk.

“You’re not a slacker,” you say eventually, and he raises a brow at you. “I mean, maybe you procrastinate coding projects to a worrying extent, but you always get it done.” You smile thinly. “You don’t give up in any way that matters, Takuma. I like that about you.”

He chuckles. “Nanami said something like that, once.” His eyes go far-away again, just for a second. “He’s kind of the closest thing… like… I don’t know. I’ve known Nanami for a really long time. He was my dad’s friend. And I guess he sort of became a father figure, after…”

He shrugs. “It’s probably a big part of why I decided to go here. That, and it’s not too far from my mom’s. I don’t know that she’d have been thrilled if I went somewhere farther.”

“You’re not home,” you say carefully, a question but not question. “For break?”

“She’s on a business trip,” he says. “So not much point. But I’ll see her at Christmas, at least.”

For a while the silence stretches out comfortably between you, like a weighted blanket. You can’t ignore it, but it isn’t unwelcome. At some point you scooted closer to him, and now you sit side by side, only the layers of your jackets separating you.

“Thank you for telling me,” you say eventually, soft, unwilling to break the quiet. He nods.

“You didn’t go home either,” he points out, an unspoken question in the spaces between words. “Is it just ‘cause you’re from so far away, or…”

“Yeah. A Friday off didn’t feel like enough of a break to warrant a flight back.” But that’s not all of it. His silence tells you he knows it, too. He’s been so candid with you all night. You can share this part of yourself, you decide.

There’s something about Takuma, anyway, that makes you want to tell him things. You want to know him, and you want him to know you—you now, here, at school, but also you there, home, in the past.

“I haven’t been home since July,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest, mirroring him. “My town is… small. I liked it when I was little. But the older I got the more I started to feel, just—I don’t know, stifled?”

Your hometown used to feel huge, like you could explore it forever on your Razor scooter and never find all its secrets. But you grew, and the town didn’t grow with you, and suddenly you were standing outside your high school realizing you knew every corner of the self-proclaimed suburban city, every street and coffee shop and alley. You’ve always been curious. And at some point, there wasn’t anything left in that place for you to be curious about.

“I love my home. I love my parents. It’s just… I needed to get out. I don’t think they ever really understood that.”

It’s easier to admit things when you’re looking straight ahead like this, out over the lines and curves of buildings, picking out street lamps, watching a few stray cars make their way around slow corners.

“Is it what you wanted it to be?” he asks quietly. “Here, I mean.” He nods out to the vast stretch of campus, spread across the city. So many corners you’ve been here years and haven’t found them all.

Campus is weird on break, you muse, looking out over the darkness. A whole parallel world for you to explore, the shadowed version of the place. A video game map on single-player, a dead server. Hardly any lights on in the windows, no kids out on the street. Like a ghost town. But it still doesn’t feel empty to you. There’s so much promise in it.

“Yeah,” you answer after a moment, soft. “Yeah, I think it is.”

A ghost town that isn’t lonely, somehow. You could write a song about it, you think. Friends with all the dead in my ghost town. The phrase plays itself out in your head, and it sounds like something moodier than your band usually goes for. It sounds like Shibuya Incident.

You wonder if this is what it means to be in a relationship—not a romantic one, necessarily, but a friendship, or any kind of bond between two creative people. If it’s this, the sharing of intellectual property with another person to the extent that their voice and yours start to blend.

It’s in the way Nobara can finish your sentences when you’re throwing out potential verses, scrambling for rhymes. How Toge and Yuta can anticipate each other’s movements, match chord progressions without talking about them. How Maki slips into your tempo seamlessly, every single time.

And now your lyrics sound like something his band would play. Maybe Takuma’s songwriting will start sounding like yours, too.

You don’t think you’d mind.

“Can I tell you something?” Takuma murmurs after a moment, sounding hesitant.

You rest a cheek on your knees, hands clasped together in front of your shins, facing him. “Mhm.”

“That song last night,” he whispers, and he’s not looking at you, just staring out at the rapidly darkening campus. “It was about you. And how you—I don’t know, the way you look at things. Like they’re always so full of potential. I wish I could do that. You just see things and want to know more. I like… watching you, being curious.” He pauses for a beat and then quickly adds, “Not in like, a creepy way! Just—I don’t know.”

A chuckle slips through your lips against your will, the darkness hopefully hiding the color in your cheeks. Maybe you can blame it on the cold. “Watching?” you ask, teasing. “I can’t imagine I’m all that intriguing. There’s a lot of cool people around here, y’know.”

“Skip,” he murmurs, and now his eyes are locked on yours. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

Every nerve in your body is hyperaware of his proximity, and his hand reaches up to cup your jaw, the touch ghosting over you, barely there, hesitant. A nonverbal question. Is this okay?

You lean into the warmth, letting his breath wash over you, mingling with your own in the space between your lips, smaller and smaller and smaller.

He’s watching you, closely, giving you a chance to pull away. So many words exchanged tonight, but you don’t need any for this.

You don’t pull away.

It’s slow at first, and soft, and hesitant. The shingles dig into the heel of your hand as you lean forward on one arm, a grainy feeling on your fingertips, in the grooved imprints left by the guitar strings. You find your free hand moving up to his shoulder, pushing, guiding him down until his back is pressed against the roof and you’re over him, lips locked with his. You look at him, and he’s so full of potential. You want to know everything about him, you want to know how he works, you want to ask questions. And you do, with your tongue along the seam of his lips, and your hand tangled in his hair, and his breath mixing with yours in the air. It’s near full dark now, feeling later than it really is, evening in autumn.

You’re not cold anymore.

He deepens the kiss, body coming up to meet yours, and you feel like maybe this roof is the top of the whole world, because how could you ever feel higher than this?

“Takuma,” you murmur, and you kiss him again, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this way before, but you’ll do maybe anything in the world to feel this way again.

And then a sharp, deep sound makes you jump, scrambling to sit up on the shingles, breathing heavy from the kiss and the noise. Did that come from inside or out?

“What—”

“Oh, crap,” Takuma groans, pulling open the window. “Someone’s home.” He looks back at you, cheeks flushed from the cold or the kiss or both, looking a little helpless, a little apologetic, and you can’t help the small laugh that bursts from you at the absurdity of the situation. You feel like a teenager getting caught by your parents.

“We should…” He nods toward the window. You hand him the guitar, then crawl back over to the window and slip inside after him, the warmth a stark relief from the temperature you’ve gotten so used to. Your heart is a jackhammer, rapidly pecking away at the once-stable structure of yourself.

You kissed him.

You kissed Takuma.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out with still-cold hands.

utah: [1 Image Attachment] utah: dinner?

Admittedly, the pasta does look amazing, and your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

“I should go,” you say awkwardly, holding up the phone for Takuma to see.

“Uh, yeah, uh—for sure, no problem, I should go see what’s up down there anyway,” he says after a beat of hesitation. “I’ll see you, uh…?”

“Around?” you finish, laughing slightly.

“Yeah,” he echoes with an amused half-smile as you make your way down the stairs. “Around.”

—

You’re freaking out.

It’s 4:31 on Monday afternoon, you’ve been listening to the same song on repeat for an hour, and you’re freaking the fuck out.

After Saturday night, you didn’t talk about it. You kissed him on the roof and your heart turned into a hummingbird and you were warm all over, and then the front door slammed and you nearly jumped out of your skin, and Megumi was back early and Takuma had no idea why, and you pet the dogs and then slipped out, wanting to give them their space.

And you haven’t talked about it. You haven’t had time. Sunday was a mess of cramming for midterms and your housemates returning from break and you threw yourself into your studies and tried not to remember, but now…

The stupid fucking switch in the back of your brain has flipped itself on and you can’t turn it off, all worry and criticism and hypothetical worst-case scenarios and you’re giving too much too fast, Skipper, you know better than this!

How many people in your tiny town fell in love young and grew to resent each other? How many of your high school friends grew up with divorced parents? How many breakups have you seen in your two and a half years at this university, how many tears and shouting matches in public halls, how many friend groups falling apart because two people fell in and out of love?

The thing is, you know you’re panicking about nothing. Takuma hasn’t asked anything of you. It was just a kiss. He is not your boyfriend. This is not a contract.

But if you talk about it, it could be, and you don’t understand why that scares you so much. Do you have commitment issues? What the fuck is your problem?

You probably wouldn’t have a problem at all, if you’d just had the time Saturday night to figure out what the kiss meant. But now that a whole day has passed and you haven’t seen him and you don’t know for sure, your mind keeps wandering down paths it should have stayed away from.

What if it’s a friends with benefits situation and you’ve just read too much into it? Maybe this is all he wants, making out, spending late nights together getting physical. Maybe that’s all. A heated makeout session on a roof doesn’t mean he feels the way you do. And do you even know how you feel? Fucking hell.

It’s the anxiety talking, the more logical part of you says, the part that sounds an awful lot like Maki. Your friends aren’t around to tell you how stupid you’re being, so the only texts you and Takuma have sent since Saturday night are playlists and song lyrics skirting around whatever truths you’re trying and failing to articulate.

Do I Wanna Know floats from the speaker on your desk, your phone next to your head on the bed, facedown and dormant. Do I wanna know if this feeling goes both ways?

Your door slams open and you jump up, whirling around to find Maki with her arms crossed, leaning on the frame. “Alright,” she says. “That’s the tenth time I’ve heard that godforsaken song. What the fuck is up with you?”

When you don’t respond, she steps inside and closes the door behind her, pauses the music, and then makes herself comfortable on the edge of your bed. “Talk to me,” she says. “You’re driving yourself crazy.” The words stall in your throat, useless, stagnant things as you avoid her knowing stare, instead staring at the popcorn ceiling until it blurs.

Maki sighs and shifts entirely onto the bed, turning herself to face you.

“I didn’t know you were home,” you say lamely.

“You’re driving me crazy, Skip,” she tries, and she knows you so fucking well, because the guilt trip is exactly what dislodges all those words built up in the back of your mouth—she breaks the dam and you spill your soul onto the quilted comforter, rambling, a rush of truths and things you thought you’d hidden from yourself but you can’t anymore. And she just listens, not looking away once.

You tell her everything: that you know you catch feelings fast, too fast. That despite your bleeding heart, you haven’t really been in a long-term relationship since high school. That you think of the future, of all the places you want to go, all the things you want to do, and there’s no guy in those dreams, and the thought of restructuring the life you’ve planned out for yourself around a boy who might be temporary is too much to even fathom. That—

“I kissed him,” you say breathlessly, bordering on hysterical, and you feel so stupid, this worked up over something so small, something that should be good. “I kissed him and now it feels real and now I’m freaking out.”

“I can see that,” Maki says calmly. “Let me ask you something. What is the worst thing that could happen, if you date him and it doesn’t last?”

“I…” You chew on your bottom lip, mind spinning through every bad outcome. “He could end up hating me, Maki. I could get some crazy job and have to leave, or he would come with me and leave his whole life behind and then he’d grow to resent me and we’d just be in some kind of hellish limbo until one of us snapped. Or he could—he could leave me, or we could try long distance and he could fall in love with somebody else, or I could, or—or—”

You flounder for a second, realizing your biggest worry is the one most immediate, the one most central to your life as it exists right now.

You’ve been sitting here thinking about big-picture things that are so far out, trying to make the feeling curdling in your gut feel like a valid reaction to a major life event. But that’s not what this is.

You’re just really, stupidly, pathetically scared that Takuma kissed you and didn’t mean it.

“Or—I guess that’s not the issue. Not really,” you admit quietly, not looking at Maki. She probably already knows. She has a way of knowing exactly what’s bothering you and just asking the right questions, getting you to talk yourself out of whatever hole your anxious mind has dug.

“I—it was just a kiss. What if he doesn’t want something serious right now, and I like him this way and he just wants something casual? I can’t do casual, Maki,” you say, raking a hand through your hair. “And it could fuck up this thing we have going. Yuji and Toge get along so well, and Nobara and the boys and Kirara, and Megumi’s your cousin, and I don’t wanna cause some weird, awkward rift, you know what I mean?”

Because it’s been so good, getting to know them. You don’t want to fuck up the dynamic just because you caught feelings too fast.

Maki leans back against your wall, humming as she thinks this over. “Okay. First of all, take a step back. Do you actually think you and Ino dating or not dating or whatever would mean I stop talking to my cousin? Or Nobara to the guys?” She raises a brow at you, unimpressed. “Seriously. I love you, Skipper, but you do not have that much power. These relationships existed before you knew Ino. Yuji is incapable of having conflict with anybody. And Toge doesn’t give a fuck about awkward relationship drama, he just wants to play Smash.”

As she speaks, you can feel your heart settling back into its home in your chest. Maki always knows what to say. Always.

“Second: Let me put it this way.” She levels you with a serious look. “You are so worked up about all these incredibly hypothetical situations. If you shut this down now, if you don’t act on what happened on Saturday, you’re still going to be worked up about hypotheticals. They’ll just be different ones. I know you, Skipper, you’re gonna drown yourself in what ifs. So you have to pick the lesser evil. There’s an unknown factor either way. Which one is gonna be worse?”

You groan, faceplanting into your bedspread. In the process, your forehead must hit play on your phone, because all of a sudden Arctic Monkeys blasts through the JBL again and Maki is grabbing your phone and saying, “Absolutely not. Nope. We are done with that.”

You look up at her helplessly. “Do I wanna know?” you choke out, half-laughing. “Because if I’m taking this out of proportion, if he doesn’t feel this way and I’m just another girl he kissed—”

“You’re not,” she says firmly. “Are you kidding me? Skip. That boy kisses the ground you walk on.” She shakes her head, some mix of fondness of exasperation flashing across her face. “You already know. The question isn’t if he likes you, or if you like him. It’s whether you’re gonna let it play out or shut it down before it has a chance to.”

Your door slams open, and Nobara strolls in and puts her hands on her hips. She glares at Maki and then at you.

“Please tell me I’m wrong,” she says, and you know you’re in for it, “but I believe you both had significant relationship developments this weekend and didn’t immediately call me? What the fuck? Spill.”

Abruptly, you feel like the worst friend in the world. Not necessarily because you haven’t filled Nobara in—she hasn’t been home—but because Maki is flushing pink, and you left her alone with Yuta on purpose, and it’s Monday, and you haven’t even asked what happened.

You look at Nobara. “Close the door.”

She does, but she doesn’t sit down, choosing instead to pace the room as she speaks. “Exhibit A: the plants have name tags and the handwriting is not Yuta’s. Exhibit B: I just came from down the street and Ino is acting weird as fuck.”

You sit straight up, suddenly on high alert. “Weird how? Did he say anything?”

“No. Like, the entire time. That’s the weird as fuck part.”

You turn to Maki, trying to read her. “Okay, what happened with Yuta? Was it when I left? Because if I wasn’t obvious enough—“

“You were very obvious, thank you,” Maki says, her blush deepening. “Uh, we made dinner. As you know.”

“It was good.”

Maki is pointedly looking everywhere but at you and Nobara, gaze darting from the ceiling to the bedspread to the door, as if she might escape the conversation. You hadn’t even noticed the plant name tags. That’s maybe the most sappy gesture that’s ever come from Maki Zenin.

“Mm. Yeah. Uh,” she says, eloquently. “We might have kissed. We might be… together.”

“Maki!” you and Nobara both scream, which results in Toge nearly breaking down your bedroom door five seconds later.

“What?” he demands. He clocks Maki’s bright red face and grins widely. “Aha! Yes. Good.”

“Wh—”

“Yuta won’t look me in the eyes, so I figured. You wanted to tell us all at once?”

Maki nods sheepishly.

“Too late!” Toge says cheerfully. “And he’s not home. So we can take this quality girls’ time to—”

“You are a man.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said that to me,” Toge tells Nobara, hand over his heart.

She swats at him in response and flops onto your floor, and Toge drops down beside her, you and Maki leaning over the edge of your bed to see them both.

"I ate your love pasta," you tell Maki, and she groans.

"This is why I don't tell you people things."

After the appropriate appoint of freaking out about Maki and Yuta (of course I knew, I always know, Nobara says), they make you go through the whole of Saturday night in detail.

You leave out the part about Takuma’s dad. That doesn’t feel like your story to tell.

When you get to I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Nobara blinks at you, and the innocent expression on her face means whatever she’s about to say is anything but. “So he told you you’re not like other girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan, dragging your hands down your face.

“Oh, shit, Skipper!” Toge nearly shouts from the floor. “We have to go, like, two minutes ago.”

“Shit!” You scramble off the bed, shoving your laptop into your bag and weaving around Nobara, who has made no move to get off the floor. You and Toge have your usual Monday night class time to do field reporting, and you’re meeting up with Geto and Utahime.

The front door clicks open and closed, and you grin at Maki, who goes red. Yuta’s home. God, you wish you could stay for this.

“Hi, Yuta! Bye, Yuta!” you call on the way out the door, patting him on the head, and Toge follows suit with a much more aggressive motion that messes up Yuta’s hair.

“Oh, hi! Um. Bye?” Yuta’s startled laugh follows you out the door, and then you’re on your way.

You’re always on your way back to The Fix, eventually.

—

Utahime, notably a happier person in general when Gojo’s not around, lets Toge into the back to get some photos of the storeroom. That leaves you alone with Geto, back on the same stool as last time, phone on the counter as you watch him work, talking as he goes.

“Finished inventory,” he says, typing something rapidly on his laptop, “and now it’s budgeting. And yeah, that’s about what it looks like on the day to day. What else did you want to know?”

Geto is remarkably easy to talk to. He’s soft-spoken and articulate, a good listener, and you find yourself forgetting it’s an interview after a while, lost in conversation. You learn that he studied business in school, so opening an establishment like this wasn’t much of a stretch. He handles the finances and hiring, and he’s the one working with Panda on the Battle of the Bands. Gojo and Utahime bartend, Nanami is security, and Shoko handles everything else. It’s a small team, he says, but they work.

“I wanted to be able to be home for the girls when they were growing up, and this wound up being a great way to do that, schedule-wise,” he tells you. “And now they’re here, which is great. I wouldn’t say I ever saw myself opening a bar, back in college, but now that I’m here and Shoko and I have been running the place for a while, I’m not sure where else I ever could’ve ended up, y’know?”

You nod, head propped in your hand with your elbow on the counter. “So is this the dream? The endgame?” you ask. “Think you’ll stay a while?”

“Well,” he says, closing the laptop, “I think it comes down to doing something because you love it, not because other people love that you do it. Though right now, both of those things are true, which is fortunate for me." He leans on the bar counter, head tilted as he considers his words.

"If the work makes you happy, if the people there make you feel the same way, I think that’s worth hanging on to," he says. "If I ever stop loving the work, I suppose I’ll move on. I don’t see that happening, really, but if it does, I’ll roll with it. Whatever comes after.”

“That makes sense.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Man, I wish the career thing was that clear-cut now. I know I have time, but it’s weird to think about.”

“Would you ever go further than this with the band, you think?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious. “Or is the journalism thing pretty much what your heart’s set on?”

You’ve thought about it. Drumming makes you feel alive like very few other things do, but you love writing, reporting, meeting people and telling their stories. You want to go for editor-in-chief next year when Tsumiki graduates, but the reality is that you won’t have so much time for the band if you get the job. And you love your band.

Not that it’ll be the same, anyway, without Maki and Yuta. That’s something you don’t love to think about.

“I don’t know,” you confess, sheepishly realizing you’re still recording, that you’re supposed to be the one asking the questions. “I don’t think… that the band is ever necessarily going to be a professional thing. Maki and Yuta have all these big career plans. And it’s like, how much do I invest in that now, knowing it’s not… forever? When the journalism thing, the career, might be? I don’t know.”

“You know, I don’t think it matters all that much whether it’s forever,” Geto shrugs. “If it gave you what you needed at the time, wouldn’t it be worth it?”

He glances up at you, taking in the lines of your face, the tapping of your fingers against your other arm. You kind of feel like he sees something you don’t.

“Here’s some unsolicited advice, kid. On the record. Maybe life is short, maybe not. But regardless, your heart is not a finite thing.” His eyes are soft but not sad, serious but with a sort of levity that’s wise and not regretful. You think, idly, that you would find it very hard not to trust him. “If you’ve got something, love it while you have it.”

Something tells you he’s not talking about the band anymore. Or maybe that’s just you, looking for answers where there aren’t any.

“Thanks, Geto,” you say, turning off the recording. “This has been really helpful.”

Your heart is not a finite thing. And you think you’ve made up your mind.

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a/n: what is this? setup for the megumi spinoff i'm writing after this? oo (sorry he was a cockblock it was for the plot, this one AND his, hehe)

[vgperson]

What Did I Do In 2024?

(looking up) Sorry, I was thinking about Grimstone Yano.

----

As usual: my site has an RSS feed with basically everything I’ve done back to 2020, so this will mainly be going over the same stuff from that.

I didn't do much public in the first three months of the year; I was playing a lot of games (and continued to throughout the year) and planning out a particular game project which has somewhat fallen to the wayside as of late. But guys. It's gonna be so good if I can actually make it.

In April, Kenshi Yonezu released Bye Now, See You Someday! (interview, interview, tangential interview). Then in May, it was Every Day (interview, interview, interview, interview, interview).

Then there was the lead-up to and release of LOST CORNER in August, with RED OUT (flashing lights warning), Junk, and the rest. (Interview, interview, interview.) And about a month later, the madman went and released the new Donut Hole music video.

Around this time, social media conditions spurred me to create an art gallery page on my site, to both archive notable pieces from over the years and post new ones. Truthfully, I've been doing periodic drawings just for fun for about 2 years now, just… not posting them here. I also haven't felt like I should include every new drawing in the RSS feed (partly because it feels bothersome, partly to minimize the effort of the posting process), so you'd have to check manually to keep up with it. But if you're interested, there you go. (P.S. It's called a gallery because it's fulla gals.)

In October, I posted my translation of Sugaru Miaki's first new novel in 6 years, The Town of Sakura. It's hard for it to compete with some of his past works, but it's pretty good, yeah. (And you thought there is never an interview online? Think again.)

Finally, in November, one more Kenshi Yonezu song: Azalea (interview). And of course, as per IZ's new rule, I had a fairly leisurely month to work on Wilardo's conclusion of Witch's Heart.

Oh and if you wanna see all the good games I played this year I made a list here. Okay bye

----

Nankidai did not finish Your Turn To Die this year on account of raising a baby. He recently moved residences "as part of a plan to go bankrupt if I don't finish next year." He'll… be okay, I hope.

I can't say I'm definitely going to focus on either my own games or free game translations next year, as I'm going to be busy with a certain other project for most of January or so. (I also worked on a couple paid translation projects this year that should come out sometime.) But I would still like to do those things as much as ever, of course. You and I both will just have to wonder when.

[reysdriver]

Piggyback | R.L.

Remus gets jealous after you spend an afternoon with James, but you sweetly assure him he has nothing to be worried about — remus x fem!reader fluff with a hint of angst

warnings: jealousy/insecurity, some foul language

words: 1k

You held on tight from behind him, arms wrapped around the broad shoulders of James Potter. He held your thighs steady as you dashed through the halls of Hogwarts. 

He laughed when you let out a squeal every time he turned a corner, fearing he would lose control and run into a wall — even though you know he would never do that. He has too much Quidditch experience and he knew his best mate, your boyfriend, Remus Lupin would kill him if he ever hurt you. 

Speak of the devil, James turned one more corner into the library hallway and you saw Remus' familiar silhouette at the end of the hall walking away. James didn't seem to notice him and was about to run another direction, but you moved your hand onto his arm to direct him one way. 

"Jamie, wait, Remus is over there! Run down the library hall." You told him. 

"Alright, let's go see your Moony." He replied, obeying your instructions and heading towards Remus. 

Once you got closer, you called out Remus' name, which caught his attention. He turned around and looked slightly shocked at the sight of you on James' back, both of you running at him. James came to a jagged halt when you reached Remus, causing you to let out a giggle. 

"Let me down please, Jamie." You asked of the boy carrying you. He once again obliged, bending down and letting you get off his back. You thanked him softly and turned to Remus. 

"Hi, Remmy." You said, pulling him down by his tie so you could kiss him. You did so, a sweet kiss on the lips, which James looked away for. 

"Hi, love." Remus greeted you back. "What were you just doing?" 

"Oh, Jamie was just giving me a piggyback ride around the school while you were busy in the library. But, now you're out, I guess, so here we are." 

"Yup, here we are." James said with a shrug. "So, I guess I'll be on my way, probably to go find my lily flower. I'll see you two later." 

And with that, he started to walk away, heading towards the library to check for Lily there first. 

"Bye, Jamie! Thanks for the ride!" You said just before he left, and he did a little salute in return, then kept walking.

You turned back to Remus, hoping to spend time with your boyfriend after he'd been in the library all day working. 

"So, you and 'Jamie'? Where did that little nickname come from?" He asked before you could say anything. 

"Oh, I just sometimes feel like I'm imposing on your friend group when I call you by your Marauders nicknames, so I'm just trying out some other ones." You told him with a smile. "What do you think of it?" 

"It's cute." He said curtly. 

You could tell at this point that something was bothering, and you knew Remus well enough to know that he wouldn't just tell you unprompted. 

"Then what's wrong?" You asked, looking up at him. 

"What? Nothing's wrong." He answered, though you knew it was a lie. "Let's just go back to the common room."

"Well, clearly something is wrong, and I don't want to go until we figure it out." 

"How could anything be wrong? I just finally finished my essays and you had a great afternoon with Jamie." 

The way he sneered at the nickname you gave his best mate is what made you realise what was upsetting him. 

"You're jealous." You stated, fighting back a grin because of your realisation. 

"What? No, why would I be jealous? No, let's just go." Remus said with a scoff. Taking her soft hand in his, Remus started to walk away with you, now completely silent. 

"You know, I know you're not jealous." You started curiously. "I know it's impossible. But, hypothetically, if you were jealous, I would say that it's okay. Even though I was just being friendly with James, it's a totally normal emotion, especially in a young relationship, and I would really be proud of you for sharing your feelings." 

You paused for a moment, then looked up at him to admit the next part. "I might even find it a little cute, if we're both being honest here." 

He looked down at you, still walking down the corridor alongside you. "You would?"

"I would." 

"Well, it's too bad that I'm not jealous." He added with a sly smirk. 

He knows what he's doing. Annoying, adorable, stubborn arsehole.  

"You know, I bet Jamie gets jealous sometimes." You told him, trying to break Remus into admitting it finally. "I'll go hang out with him for the evening, and I'll ask him." 

Obviously teasing him now, you let go of his hand and started to walk in the direction James went in a minute ago. You only made it about a step and a half before he took hold of your wrist, gently stopping you. 

"Or," Remus started, his mood clearly changed from before. "I could admit that I might have been jealous for a minute, then I could give you a piggyback ride to Gryffindor tower, and we could hang out, just us, in my dorm."

"I'd like that very much, Remmy." 

"Then, hop on, love." He bent down so you could climb onto his back, then stood up to his full height once you were settled. 

"See? You're even taller than James, so the view from up here is much better. I love it."

You could tell even that simple bit of flattery had brightened his mood even more, though he was trying not to let it show. "So, are you ready to go now?"

You leaned your head down slightly so you could give him a sweet peck on the cheek. "To your dorm, Remmy!”

[heesuits]

cry baby - lee heeseung ♡

paring: co-worker!heeseung x reader

genre: soft

! the song lyrics are mentioned at some point.

wc: 3k+

.

Closed your notebook and stretched your spine... Just finished studying for today, your fingers feel stiff from all the writing, maybe they could even get cramps later. You've been having some online classes at night from different subjects to complement your degree and just got really immersed in it for a couple hours now. You lay your head back at the chair and look at the side glancing at your phone, completely forget about its existence, stretch out your hand to grab it... 10:02 p.m, some notifications and three unread messages:

[8:47 p.m.] heesu: hey wyd :)

[9:12 p.m.] heesu: are you there?

[9:46 p.m.] heesu: there's just something I wanna talk to you about, don't want to bother okay? nothing urgent don't worry, text me back when you can...

Heeseung is a friend from work, you've been working at the same shift for about 3 months now and he kind of makes your days easier with his periodic jokes. Even though he is a shy person overall, you found it funny how it looks like people are always looking for him, trying to find a thing to talk about and make the hours go faster, but you don't judge them, he's definitely a good listener and the big shiny eyes make it easier to know that he's truly paying attention to the issue. But when it comes to the introvert chart you're a full #1 and he's around a #2, cause he often comes to you with some random vent about his life, his meals, his gaming, his love affairs, and you usually just listen carefully and show interest in his matters, rarely opening up about anything, but you can swear he's too good with conversations and still get some facts from you sometimes...

He even caught you crying from stress once, you were hiding at the staircase and he just sat by your side and stayed there for a while not really saying anything but take your time, once you looked done from the crying session you two just got up and went back to work and later that day he brought some chocolate, giving it to you like some sort of secret weapon, claiming that it would help. It surely did. And you've never talked about it but you could feel like since then you've definitely become friends somehow, the atmosphere between the two of you have changed, he always notices when you are having a bad day and keeps looking for alternative ways to help you go through it, and you know when he's just tired of being the listener and needs to open up.

You didn't know what the messages could be about, it's monday, you were working together hours ago and had no other choice than to meet again tomorrow... "I was kind of busy when you texted earlier, here now, what's the issue?" You replied, locked the phone and put it in your pocket. Headed to the kitchen to fill in the water bottle, you were feeling kinda hungry so just got an apple to eat when you felt the phone vibrate, someone is calling, you read the name on the screen: heesu... that fast? Can't help but wonder if there was something happening and just picked up...

"Heeseung? Hello?" he never called before, ever...

"Hi... First of all you're a really bad emergency contact..." he didn't have a worrying tone at least, just the usual.

"And what's the emergency you're needing to contact me about?"

"None actually... did you still not unpacked your bag after work yet?"

"Umm, no... nothing to get off of it today, why?" just too curious at that point.

"I left something there, was wondering why you still didn't say anything about it... go check and then you talk to me okay?"

"I'm not working from home don't even try."

"It's not about that I swear, it's a surprise, cmon go see it."

"Okay mystery man, I'll follow your instructions."

"Bye."

As soon as he hangs up you almost run upstairs to check on the bag, leaving the water bottle and forgetting about the apple... What could it be? A present? A gift card to get some coffee? A prank? Heeseung often handles you pieces of paper during the shift, some just written [I'm bored x.x] sometimes complimenting your different hairstyles [nice buns :D], [cool bangs u.u], [fluffy ponytail ;D], thought it could be one of those and he just made it dramatic to be fun. You found it, now almost sure about the random piece of paper theory: An envelope, locked with an emoji sticker that I gave him some weeks ago cause you recorded yourself unboxing some stationary in your close friends and he said that he liked it. You sat on bed and opened it... Chocolate! And a... handwritten letter? Your face is confused, you tilt your head to the side and go straight into reading:

—

Hello there :D (I've never written a letter)

Is my handwriting readable? Hope so...

Where to start from?... I think I worry a lot... I've got this anxious feeling but it goes away for a minute when I'm with you. When it comes to you I think I talk too much and try too hard, I want to listen more. When we talk throughout the day there's this feeling of "I know I'll fall in love with you, and that's not what I wanna do" I can taste my heart breaking from the thought of you saying that you know it... but those are just my anxious thoughts and at least I should be honest and give you the opportunity to know about my feelings and decide about yours by yourself. Every single new thing I learn about you makes me hope that there's some more time to know much more, to fall some more. I swear I wanted so hard to shake my fears away and open up to you about this in person, but as my voice fails courage I hope my writings at least let you feel my honest intentions... Oh, right, the point of the letter...

Would you give me permission to know more about you, and fall even harder? I promise I won't be your cry baby.

[ ] yes

[ ] no

From: Lee Heeseung

—

You get up and grab a pencil to mark your choice, get your phone to take a photo and send it to him without any text or context...

[ ✗ ] yes

[ ] no

—♡.

[be-missed]

Like Mum!

Florence Pugh x Wife!Reader

Summary: While doing a Cooking with Flo on live, her wife surprised her with a daughter who shaved her head on her grandparents house during a weekend vacation.

A/N: So Florence and R are married and they have a daughter.

Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So after doing that, we need to dice the onions and garlics, lots of garlics of course" Florence starts to dice the said ingredients while going on live on her Instagram.

"No way... NO way my love. What happened?", Florence heard her wife scream from their living room, curious about the situation, she then shouted back "What happened darling? Everything alright?".

A few seconds pass and she doesn't hear a response from her wife that made her much more curious about the mystery that is happening in their living room.

"Well guys, I need to check up on my girls, hold on for a sec yeah?", Florence stated as she went off the camera and started to walk from their kitchen to the living room.

As she is nearing the room, she heard her parents laughing in the phone since her wife is face timing her daughter from Florence's Parents house and Florence saw her wife on the carpet stifling a laugh while shedding a tear.

Florence got to her wife's level and asked "What happened my love? Why are you laughing huh? Everything fine? I heard you earlier and thought something happened?" As confused as she can be, Florence heard her Mom on the phone and told Y/N "Okay, now her grandpa is fixing her hair."

Now Florence is much more clueless on the things that are happening. Her wife laughing her ass out and her mom telling her wife about fixing a hair cut.

So what Florence did is she take the phone that was laying on the ground and saw her daughter sitting on the bathroom sink, a smile on her face, her dad shaving her daughter's head.

"What...WHAT IS HAPPENING BABY? What happened?" she asked baffled by the things that she saw while Y/N just laugh out loud again, laughing from the reaction of her wife.

"What happened mum? Why is Elise getting her hair shaved?" Florence asked her mom, still confused.

Her mom answered, "Oh well, she saw a picture of you a few years back, you know, from when you shaved your head and told us she wants to also have that hair cut." still giggling from the things that are happening in her household.

Baffled by her mom's answer, Florence asked "How did she ended up like that?" and Y/N answered her wife "Well your dad was shaving his beard and Elise was watching, so when your father put the razor down, Elise run it through her front hair" while giggling in between "I have pictures of it baby, I will show it to you."

Florence finds it amusing that her wife is laughing so hard while their daughter is getting her hair shaved off.

"Okay, all done, go and say hello to your moms young lady" Florence's dad said as he brush of the fallen hair from his grandchild's shoulder.

"Hi Mum! I look like you now, LOOK!" as her daughter pointed to her ipad with Florence's picture with her hair shaved off "I look like Mum now, I'm so pretty" Elise added with a giddy on her voice.

"Yes my love, you look so lovely, I can't wait to see it in person." Florence said as she shakes her head wondering her child be as adventurous as her.

Y/N chimes in "Yes baby, you look so lovely, and you look like Mum now. I can't wait to see you later."

They ended the call with good byes and a few kisses.

Florence ended up laying down on their carpet, trying to process things "Wow, from all of my hair choices, she chose that" with a giggle on her voice and a sigh.

Y/N lays on top of Florence and said "Well she got it from you, you know. You're adventurous, wild, ready to try new things, and sometimes crazy, also a risk taker" and kisses Florence softly on her cheeks.

Florence smiles at the tenderness that her wife showed. "Well, she did really nail it, she looks like me." Florence stated amusingly at how her and her child are alike.

"Yes, you two are both alike, my lovely and wonderful girls" Y/N said and cuddled more into Florence's neck.

They are enjoying the quiet, not until they hear their fire alarm blaring because of the smoke that was coming out from their kitchen.

"SHIT I WAS COOKING" Florence got up from her position and almost throw her wife away from her to save her dish.

___________________________________________________________

[kohakhearts]

7 for palletshipping tho?-

7: we always used to have sleepovers as children, why would it be weird now? wc: 1 731 read on ao3 here

Ash is at his wit’s end.

It has been a long, long time since he’s been truly and properly alone. Even then, he knows so many people in so many corners of the world, it is hardly a surprise when he bumps into a familiar and friendly face on his journeys. They will typically spend a few days to weeks together, and then, eventually—as they always do—part ways again with a spirited promise to meet again soon.

This is how it always is. Ash wouldn’t have it any other way.

Except for one Gary Oak, that is.

Oh, Ash sees him everywhere. They run into each other, quite literally, in Castelia City trying to find a place in line for a Casteliacone. They cross paths a dozen times or more at the docks in Vermilion City, boarding separate ships to faraway regions. They even find themselves two seats apart on an airplane bound from Kalos to Kanto.

But after a few hours of conversation, Gary always steps back again. Says, somehow bracingly, “It was good to see ya, Ash,” “I’ll see ya around,” “Catch ya later”—each new iteration means the same thing: I’m not sticking around this time, either.

Since they were kids on the road for the first time, this is how it has been. One degree of separation, and then a dozen more with each one of Gary’s receding footsteps. Ash cannot trace or follow them, has never known how to catch up to someone whose movements always face away from him. He spent so long trying, he became someone whose footsteps others believe can be followed, too. Sometimes, he even needs to remind himself that the view from up ahead cannot be the reason he refuses to turn around when a friend calls out his name.

It is almost ironic, then, that this should be their position now: caught out in the lush green of northern Hoenn, Ash calling out to the shadowed figure ahead of him, “Gary! Hey, wait up!”

Gary pauses, though he does not so much as turn his head until Ash has jogged up beside him. He offers Gary his best winning smile and says, “Wasn’t expecting to find you out here! What’re you up to?”

“Looking for a Pokémon.” Gary’s eyes turn away from him again, sweeping over the sunlight-dappled shrubbery. “Actually, maybe you could help me out.”

“Sure! What are we looking for?”

“Kecleon.”

Ash blinks. “Did you wanna catch one?”

He shakes his head. “It’s injured. I saw it earlier, but it disappeared before I could get close enough to check it. I doubt it’s gone far. It didn’t look like it was in very good shape.”

Ash’s decision was already made when he saw Gary standing out here alone in the first place, but that is enough to solidify his convictions. With a sharp nod, he says, “I’ll check this way, then. We can meet back here.”

Gary’s gaze still doesn’t reach his, even as he nods his agreement. Ash doesn’t waste any time to do more than notice it; they will return to each other, without a doubt. They always do, at least long enough so that Gary can say good-bye.

The search, however, is long and fruitless. The leaves shudder with the late summer breeze, calling his and Pikachu’s attention, but never once do they encounter anything larger than a skittish Oddish or wide-eyed Zigzagoon peering out from behind tree trunks and bushes. As green begins to glow orange with the final strokes of daytime, Ash trudges back to the place he met up with Gary to wait for Staraptor to report back to him with its findings.

It arrives only a few minutes later, head bowed as it delivers to him one disappointed squawk: nothing.

Ash smiles at his Pokémon and pulls out its ball to recall it. “It’s okay. You did your best. Thanks for the help.”

By now, the last coals of evening are beginning to cool into dark splotches all around him. The wind whispers through the trees; he wraps his arms around his torso, momentarily frozen by the lonely quality of its passage.

But then there is a rustling to his right. His head snaps around just as Gary appears from the late-day shadows. He’s carrying a bundle in his arms, brow pinched. Without even looking up from it, he steps past Ash to get to the clearing behind them and says, “Help me start a fire, would ya?”

Ash doesn’t need to be told twice when there is an injured Pokémon in their midst. He pulls out two Poké Balls and directs Sceptile and Pignite to begin gathering kindling for them. Pikachu hops off his shoulder and scurries away to help them.

In no time at all, the fire is blazing and a small pile of juicy oran and sitrus berries have been gathered nearby it. Ash watches from one side of their makeshift fire pit as Gary mutters reassurances to the tired, feverish Kecleon, then puts his back to the scene and begins pitching his tent. It is twenty parts habit and eighty parts hope that has him throwing out the extra sleeping bag he’s taken to carrying since he realized how often he is pulling his friends away from their day-to-day lives for adventures without them having any time to prepare for the fact.

It is only when he crosses to the other side of their site that he sees Gary is watching him. It is not merely the nighttime shadows that contribute to the darkness of his expression.

“I should take Kecleon to the Pokémon Centre,” he says.

Ash peers down at the now-sleeping Pokémon with a frown. “Is it really that sick? It’s gonna take at least an hour to get there, and that’s if we don’t get lost or sidetracked on the way. ‘Sides, the Pokémon Centre’s gonna be closed soon. We shouldn’t wake Nurse Joy if it’s not an emergency.”

The wind slices between them, much cooler now that the sun has gone away.

And then Gary says, voice tight, “Who said anything about ‘we’?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ash mutters. “‘Course I’d come with ya.”

A sigh. He watches as some of the tension drifts out from Gary’s body.

“Stay here,” Ash tells him. “I set up the tent for us both. You need to get some sleep too, y’know. You were searching for it all day!”

But just when he thinks Gary is going to acquiesce, he turns around and grabs his bag from the ground. Still not looking at Ash, he says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The night seems, all at once to still. Ash stands there for a long moment, heart beating loud and fast, just waiting for Gary to quantify that statement. To give him some kind of reason for his departure, if there ever even was one, but—

He doesn’t.

And finally, the desperate irritation beneath his breast rises and swells. He takes a step forward, demanding, “Why not? You’re always doing this! Can’t you just trust me on this?”

He sees when the tension returns. A familiar weight on Gary’s shoulders.

“It’s not about trust. This is just how it is.”

Gary takes a step away from him.

“But why’s it gotta be how it is? C’mon, Gary, we used to have sleepovers all the time as kids! What’s so different about it now?”

His heart leaps up into his throat when Gary whirls around. The shadows are cast away by the light from the fire, revealing wide, astounded—angry?—eyes.

“What part of this is anything like that?”

Ash swallows. “Well, uh—how is it anything not like that? We share the tent and if you’re really too worried about Kecleon to sleep, then I’ll be here to keep you company. Or, if not, then we can watch each other’s backs if anything happens. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Gary opens his mouth, then closes it again. He blinks once, hard, then laughs. It is not a joyous sound in the slightest; Ash is reminded of sneering taunts, a rivalry he never knew how to play out.

He says, feeling very small, “I just wish you’d stop walking away.”

A beat passes. Gary lifts one hand up to his nose, sighing deeply. When he drops again, the heat in his gaze has simmered down into something less familiar, almost sad.

“It’s different, Ash. We…we’re different. It’s been a long time. Let it go, all right?”

“No. Why should I? You aren’t giving me a reason to!”

Behind him, the fire spits and crackles. Pikachu pads around it in order to sit down by his feet, looking up at Gary quizzically.

“The reason is we aren’t kids anymore.” Gary hoists his bag up higher on his shoulder, determinedly not looking at either of them. “You’re never gonna get it, so why bother wasting time explaining? It was good to see ya, Ash, but—”

Before he can finish the thought, Ash surges forward and grabs hold of his wrist. When Gary’s wide eyes fall down to meet his glare, all he can think to say is, “Stop leaving me behind, you jerk!”

He feels Gary’s hand twitch, but he dares not release his hold now. Gary doesn’t force him to, either.

He just asks, “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?”

And all at once, the anger floods out of him. His grip relaxes, just slightly. He lowers his gaze, and he nods.

The wind picks up again, but Ash doesn’t feel its bite as Gary steps in closer to him again. Gary’s fingers brush against his wrist, then force their way up to his hand, effectively loosening Ash’s hold on him. But just when Ash expects the warmth to disappear, those fingers wrap between his, holding tight.

“Okay,” Gary says, very quietly. He shrugs his shoulder, so that his bag falls down his free arm and back to the ground. His hand squeezes Ash’s. “I’ll stay.”

Ash breathes out, deflating against him. His head falls to rest against Gary’s shoulder. Everything else seems in an instant to disappear.

“I missed you,” he admits at last.

Gary stills. But he does not pull away. And finally, finally, he lifts his free hand up to Ash’s cheek. It is warm, and familiar.

He says, “I missed you too, Ashy.”

bed-sharing prompts!

[fallenclan]

//an: this is the third part of this. if u could link the second part of that it would be greaaatt thank u very much

//tw; implied past abuse, death

--

Applebranch has her second litter the next moon.

"I want to name this one Crowkit," she says, pointing to a tortoiseshell she-cat. Then, she points to a tiny brown swirled molly with her tail. "And this is Molekit."

All that's left is a black and white tom. She stares fondly at him.

"I'm not sure what to name him," Applebranch says. "He's quiet, I'll give you that."

"Quietkit?" Silverbelly prompts.

"It doesn't feel right," Applebranch muses. "Thoughts on Coalkit?"

"No," Silverbelly says. "That one doesn't feel right either."

She takes note of how Crowkit and Molekit both seem to nestle into the little tom.

"Blackkit?"

"No," Applebranch says. "Too basic."

Then, the little kit sneezes. Silverbelly stares at the pine needle that just landed on him.

"Pinekit?"

"Pinekit."

--

Hailpaw flexes her leg. "It feels good."

"Alright, then you're free," Silverbelly says. "Don't strain it too much. Tell Otterslip to only do lighter exercises for a half moon, so you can get back into the swing of things."

Hailpaw grins at her. "Yeah! Okay! Bye Silverbelly, bye Lichenstripe, bye Stormsight. Thank you!"

Hailpaw was unique. She had this thing where instead of saying "thanks, you guys" she thanked every cat individually. She had boundless energy, yet stayed completely still while she was recovering. Sleeping, silently watching her littermates.

"Lichenstripe," she softly calls. The tom perks his head up. "When you catch Otterslip, tell him to keep an extra eye out for Hailpaw."

"Will do," Lichenstripe says.

Silverbelly turns back to her herbs, prepared to begin stocking them, when she hears rustling behind her. One sniff tells her all she needs to know.

"Oaktuft," she dully asks. "What do you need today?"

(She held a specific brand of sarcasm just for Oak "I once stubbed my paw on a rock and screamed loud enough to wake the dead" tuft. He knows she doesn't mean it.)

"I think Moxie is expecting kits," he hastily says.

Lichenstripe perks up. "Send her my way later."

"I was hoping... you could... ask?"

Silverbelly, as maturely as possible, groans. "What did you do?"

"I just, don't think she knows yet?" Oaktuft says. It comes out like a question.

"You mean to tell me," Silverbelly inhales. "That you picked up a queen was expecting before she did?"

"Yes?"

"You know how stupid you sound right now?" Silverbelly gawks. "Like, you're usually stupid-"

"Hey!"

"- but this is breaching new levels of idiocy. Lichenstripe, tell him how ridiculous he sounds."

Lichenstripe stays perfectly still. "I'll check on her later. I'll just say there's a stomach bug I need to check for or something."

Oaktuft grins. "Thanks Lichenstripe, you're the best!" And then he runs back off.

"Why do you oblige him?" Silverbelly sighs.

"He's funny," Lichenstripe hums. "Sometimes."

--

Moxie, as it turns out, is expecting. Oaktuft can be strangely perceptive when he's actually paying attention to things.

Silverbelly sighs, and drops a pebble in Lichenstripe's "made an inacurrate assumption about something and was wrong" hole.

--

Stormsight and her are out gathering herbs when he perks up, pile of poppy forgotten.

Then, he's walking through the bush.

"Stormsight!" She shouts, her own little pile of oak leaves left to the wind.

She follows his tail, and that's when she picks up on it. A tiny, barely audible mewing, followed by frantic shushing.

And he stops at a bush.

A cat with a bright ginger back and jagged stripes looks up at them, and hisses. "Get the hell away from me!"

"Are you alright?" Silverbelly asks.

She picks up one of her kits, and hisses again. "Back off!"

"My name is Stormsight," Stormsight smoothly says. "This is Silverbelly. We're medicine cats. We don't hurt cats, we heal them."

"That's what the last one said," the queen snarls. "And then I was attacked."

Silverbelly takes notice of the small nick on her ear, and the little scratch bleeding from her stomach. She sees a little nest of dead leaves and moss.

"What's your name?" Silverbelly gently asks.

"I'm," she pauses. "I'm Jagged."

"Do you need somewhere to stay, Jagged?" She instinctively asks. "We have a home. We can help you, and treat your wounds."

"I don't need help," she spits. As if on cue, one of her kits wails, and tries to paw at her belly. "I don't."

It takes a very long time, but eventually Silverbelly and Stormsight manage to convince her to come to camp, where she sleeps in the nursery with her kits, and continues to hiss at anyone who gets too close. But she talks to Holly, and Applebranch, even if it's just curt responses, so it's an improvement.

--

Moxie gives birth to one kit. Newtkit. A scrappy little thing that seems to hate everything except her mother and Bluekit.

And Jaggedstripe has gotten better. She has real conversations with Applebranch, and Moxie, and she lets Silverbelly check her over with minimal fuss.

And Hailcrash has truly grown into herself. She's a spectacular fighter, clever and intelligent. Otterslip always says her name with the utmost pride.

Henryclaw is a new addition to the clan, someone that Jaggedstripe used to know. They say tense hello's and nobody pries farther.

--

Two things happen in the following moons.

One, Lakelily has been more tense during their half moon meetings. Hesitant to say anything about his clan or how his cats are doing. He won't meet her at the border for herb trades. She has a horrible feeling Floodstar is behind it.

Two, Neo dies in his sleep. He was old, it was bound to happen.

Three, Goldenstar loses his first life defending his son from a dog. He spends one day in her den recovering, then leaves.

"Come back if it starts hurting again," she calls.

Goldenstar flicks his tail, but she knows he won't be visiting anytime soon. She watches Celia run to greet him, and realizes that he might have someone to keep him in check after all.

--

"You're old," Newkit says.

Moxie stares at Silverbelly. "Am I?"

Silverbelly winces, and decides the floor is the most interesting thing in the world. Moxie looks at Oaktuft, who looks like he was just viciously insulted.

"Are we old, Newtkit?" Oaktuft whispers, a single tear leaking from his eye.

"Yeah," Newtkit loudly says. "You should retire so you stop complaining about your bones hurting after patrols."

Oaktuft frowns. "Oh."

"I suppose we are old," Moxie muses. "Thoughts on retiring?"

"I guess we can retire," Oaktuft says.

And that is the story of how Moxie and Oaktuft retire. Because their four moon kitten calls them old.

--

Jaggedstripe leaves the nursery.

Her kits are six moons old, so she's technically supposed to leave. Technically, they've been complaining they don't need her since they were four moons, but she stays regardless.

"I don't think I want to move," Jaggedstripe says.

"You could stay in the nursery," Stormsight says. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Newtkit will be an apprentice in hardly a moon," Jaggedstripe says. "There's no point in staying in the nursery if there are no kits to look after."

Silverbelly hums. "It's up to you."

And later that day, she sees Jaggedstripe carrying a small bundle of moss into the warrior's den and smiles.

--

"Inhale," she says.

Sillymoon takes one deep breath.

"Exhale." She hums as she listens, then steps away. "Everything sounds fine. Don't push too hard, Toro will show you the ropes."

"Thank you for your help," Sillymoon says. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," she says. "Stay safe."

Then, Jaggedstripe walks into the den, and drops Newtpaw at her feet. "She fell from a tree. She seems fine, but I just..."

Silverbelly nods, and noses through her fur. "Anything hurt?"

"No!" Newtpaw exclaims. "Everything's fine. I'm just sore."

There's one bruise blooming on Newtpaw's shoulder, but otherwise she looks fine.

"See?" Newtpaw turns to Jaggedstripe. "I told you I landed on the moss."

Jaggedstripe concedes, and nods.

--

"You," Silverbelly breathes. "You what?"

"I think I accidentally flirted with Wormshade?" Flyspots meekly says.

"Aw, he's all grown up," Applebranch teases.

"Momma!" He squeaks.

"My little baby is finally feeling things," Applebranch purrs. Flyspots ducks under her muzzle.

"You know what, forget I said anything," he declares. "Never talking to you about romance again. Maplethorn!"

"Why is he talking to Maple?" Applebranch gawks. "He's horrible at romance. He has never once felt anything for anyone."

"Maybe he's looking for a more realistic opinion?" Silverbelly blinks.

She's promptly interrupted by Wormshade bowling into her. "Hey, if I hypothetically wanted to be Flyspot's mate, would you kill me?"

Applebranch hums. "Depends on how fast you can run."

"Oh," he says, then slowly backs up. "Yeah, I'm gonna. Yeah."

"Stop scaring his future mate off," Silverbelly says. "They're cute."

--

Landslides are one of the common dangers of mountain life. They've happened before, it's easy to avoid them if you're in shape and out of the way and it's easy to hear them coming.

She digs frantically, paws churning at the mud. He needed to be here. She can't explain this to Lakelily.

A warm pelt brushes her, with the underlying coolness that says it belongs to the stars, and she stops.

One yellow limb pokes out of the mud, unmoving.

"Oh," Holly whispers. "I'm so sorry."

Silverbelly tucks her head into her paws and cries.

--

"I'm sorry," she blurts.

Lakelily stares at her. His eyes are dull, and his tail lays flat along his paws. "For?"

"Lichenstripe died," she hollowly says. "He got caught in a landslide. I'm so sorry."

Lakelily pauses, then stares up at the moon. "That's not your fault."

She watched the newly named Eveningstar climb the rock, and the conversation abruptly ends.

--

Pinefrost and Molesong become warriors.

Crowpaw stares at them from next to Mudsplash, who murmurs something to her. Crowpaw doesn't acknowledge the words.

Silverbelly continues to cheer for her kits, and makes a mental note to check on Crowpaw later.

--

"It looks pretty badass," Bluefern says.

"It does," Newtpaw agrees. "I look cool as fuck."

Silverbelly sighs.

--

"Check back with me later," she yells.

Goldenstar does not check back with her later. When she finds him, sleeping in his nest, she asks Celia to send him her way when he wakes up.

Predictably, he does not stop by. Celia says sorry, and she says it's okay, but she wishes her leader would take care of himself for once in his life.

--

"The verdict?" Evie asks.

He's a brand new, so dark brown he looks black in most lights, recruit to the clan. Also, he's sick, and hacks his lungs out every four minutes. When he is not doing that, he is winking at Bluefern when she passes by.

"Greencough," she says, then passes a leaf to Evie. "If you're going to cough out phlegm-"

"What's that?"

"-please cough it out on this so I can properly get rid of it."

"Okay," Evie says.

--

"Maybe I'll retire soon," Curly says. She flexes her tail, now scarred in a ring like way.

She hums. "If you'd like."

And she promptly ignores how shamelessly Evie is flirting with Bluefern and Newtscar, who are also flirting with eachother. She can't tell if it's a joke.

--

"Crowflame, did you know male torties are like, super rare?" Blizzardfang says.

Crowflame hums. Silverbelly feels the fur on her spine stand. Applebranch laughs.

--

One moon later, Evie has recovered.

"I wonder what Bluefern thinks about mates," he mumbles. Silverbelly can feel her jaw drop. Next to her, Jaggedstripe gawks.

--

"Silverbelly?" Goldenstar asks.

"Look who finally pays me a visit," she says. "What do you need?"

"Would it be betraying Morningbloom if I loved someone else?"

"Why do you ask?" She carefully studies his conflicted expression. "Oh my stars, it's Celia. You like Celia. Why?"

"He has a charming smile," Goldenstar mumbles. Silverbelly groans.

"But to answer your question," Silverbelly says. "I think Morningbloom would want you to be happy. If Celia makes you happy, she would want that for you."

--

"I know," Applebranch whispers, in a soothing voice. "I know, Silvie."

"I keep having the same damn dream," she whispers. "Since I was an apprentice."

She chokes out a sob, and Applebranch murmurs hollow words of comfort.

--

"What do you mean you thought we were already mates?"

Flyspots tilts over, a dumbstruck expression on his face. Wormshade looks enraged, but the way the fur on his face fluffs up says everything she needs to know.

Applebranch catches his eye, and Wormshade wilts.

--

She wakes up with fluffed fur and unsheathed claws, panting hard.

She stares at Stormsight, and it's like the vision has come crashing down at her. Those fucking rocks, tumbling down a cliff, a trail of blood pooling behind them.

Otterslip is on guard. "Where are you headed to?"

"The glow cave," she says. "I need to speak with Starclan."

Otterslip blinks at her, confusion filling his gaze. "Do you want an escort?"

"No," she breathes. "Not really."

He nods. "Okay. I'll tell everyone where you went."

And Silverbelly allows her paws to guide her east of the mountains, where the clouds block the moon and a faint drizzle accompanies the chilly air.

--

She passes a Cricketclan patrol, who nod at her, and she continues walking, and numbly stops at the glowcave.

"What does it mean?" She whispers, to nobody in particular. "What does it mean?"

She glares at the pool, snarling. "Oh, so now you don't want to talk to me. I haven't gotten a proper rest since before my first litter, and now you want to be quiet?"

She feels her hackles stand. "Fucking talk to me!"

A whisper climbs behind her, and she whips around to face it.

"Yeah, you think this shit is funny? I'm being haunted by three rocks and it's a silly game for you. Of course it is."

The spirit settles next to her, and opens its mouth. Then, it closes again, and materializes a stick in it's jaws.

She stares as it draws a shaky line in the wet clay. She watches a shaky v shape take form, and the spirit points behind her.

"What are you trying to tell me?" She pleads. "Show me what you want me too see."

The spirit raises one paw, ever so slightly lifts it, and points behind her, to the starry pool.

Silverbelly rolls her eyes and looks behind her. And she stops, hissing and snarling as she wheels backwards.

Three rocks. Dark brown with a darker line, a dull brown pebble with two curved lines, and a more ginger one with white spots.

"Tradition," the spirit whispers. "Like an heirloom, of sorts." And then she hears it fade away behind her, leaving Silverbelly alone in a cave with three rocks that mean something, but she doesn't know what.

-🍭

part one | part two

LOLLIPOP. I AM IN FUCKING SHAMBLES DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS FIC IS DOING TO ME. when applebranch called her Silvie i almost started crying actually. and i LOVE all the little nods to the characters that didn't do much in canon, like Lichenstripe and Holly,,, oughghghh. the little hints of bluenewtevie. oaktuft being a dumbass. the goldencelia. this fic is a fucking masterpiece and i love it so much

[yourtouchismidas]

this thought has plagued me since yesterday (mads knows) but imagine matty helping gigi make a birthday card for rg's birthday (like a milestone birthday or something) and they spend the whole day (day before the birthday) being all secretive in gigi's room and rg is not allowed to enter. and finally at midnight she's presented with 1) the card and 2) 2 babygirls covered in glue and glitter

this is so cute!

you're sitting in the lounge, in the sunlight, warm coffee in your hand and the house is quiet, peaceful. you take a sip, enjoying it, before the slow creep of suspicion infiltrates your mind. your youngest is napping but the other two, the ones who can walk and put their hands in things are up and about and should be with their father. but then again, sometimes being with matty is like having a fourth child. a big overgrown baby girl, just like your three little ones. mischief follows him and now mischief follows your girls too. especially when they are all together.

you take the baby monitor and leave the coffee. your phone starts buzzing where you left it on the table and you see it is your friend's teenage daughter mila, probably calling you to have a melt down at what to wear for your birthday party tomorrow (a meal out and then drinks back at yours, literally nothing to stress about but you know she will). you will call her back later. it's too suspiciously quiet in here. come to think of it. there should be a couple of dogs running around here too. and they're no where to be seen either.

you check the garden. the kitchen. the bathroom. your room. you peak in on baby valentine, who is sound asleep still. gigi and shay have a loft room at the top of the house and so you head up the last flight of stairs.

you can hear taylor swift music, muffled through the door, and little voices, and matty's voice cutting through to tell them to stop arguing. a dog barks inside. ah. here we go.

"erm, hello?" you say outside the door. the voices, which were loud before, stop abruptly. the taylor music carries on. even the dog is quiet.

"what are you guys doing in there?"

nothing.

"i'm coming in," you say.

you hear a little "noo!", not sure which girl it is, and scrambling, and then the door opens, just a crack, and matty's head pops out, the music getting louder.

"we thought you were having a quiet coffee," matty says.

"i was. but then i got... suspicious."

"nothing to be suspicious about!" gigi calls, from inside. matty nods, a floating head in the door way.

"hmmm," you say, "think you guys are hiding something from me."

"nope. no. nothing at all," matty says, "goodbye now."

he tries to close the door on you but you stop him.

"you can't leave me out. that makes me sad!" you say, putting on a sad voice, targeting your middle daughter, which works immediately.

"oh no!" you can hear her gasp behind the door.

"shay," gigi whispers, too loudly, "the surprise!"

matty is shaking his head at you.

"fine. fine. i guess you girls dont want me to play with you."

"that was low," he says. you smirk.

"can i least have the dogs? maybe just one? i'm lonely."

"no, sorry, they're integral to the project," matty says, then quickly, "the project that does not exist. okay then. bye now."

he closes the door. you laugh and head back downstairs where your coffee is still warm. might as well make the most of the peace.

an hour later, just when you're about to go and wake up valley, the five of them (two daughters, two dogs, one matty) come stumbling down the stairs. all five of them are covered in glitter, and paint, and matty has two red smudges of it on each cheek, one a little bigger than the other.

"oh my lord," you say, taking them all in. but your girls look so bright and are grinning and then they present you a big card, a3 size, which is covered in different coloured glitter, shimmering the floor with it as they pass it to you. it says happy birthday mummy, from your loves and on the front is a heart and inside that a four hand prints (three daughters and a matty) and two paw prints.

"we cleaned the dogs, dont worry. and the baby," matty says quickly.

you're crying and you assure them its happy tears and gather up your daughters in your arms.

"hope you have a good birthday mummy," shay says, climbing into your lap.

"i will baby," you say, "if you are all there with me."

"what about valley?" she says.

"valley too of course. i'm just going to go and get her."

you hear her crying.

"then i will come back and look more at your lovely card."

you leave the room, kissing matty's cheek as you go out and whispering that he is a nightmare.

you pick your baby girl out the cot, settling her in your arms and head back down to the rest of your family. on the way, you notice some paint on the side of her tiny wrinkled hand. you will always pretend that you didn't see two daughters, two dogs and a matty, sneaking into your sleeping baby's room and pressing her hand print on the card before wiping the paint off again, through the baby monitor. they will never know. but you will.

[canonicallyanxious]

some assorted gay chicken show thoughts:

(i put a cut bc this got so stupid long i'm so sorry lol)

i think Earth has a really tough task with this role but imo he is totally nailing the restrained longing of it all and the undercurrent of wistful regret for lost opportunities in everything he says and does. the way he's not necessarily unhappy with his lot in life but doesn't think there's any value in it or what he provides for his community. the way he's resigned himself to loneliness but still can't help but want something more in a part deep inside of him (the shot of him looking at the moon in ep 1... I Am Thinking). i think it's really easy to see how bold and open Wen is with his feelings and be swept up in that bc the way Jim expresses his attraction is a lot more subtle but I think Earth does an amazing job of conveying that longing through the tiny shifts in his microexpressions, the way he looks at Wen when he thinks no one is looking (it KILLS me his expression when he sees how gentle and kind Wen is to his cat), the way he orients himself around Wen without thinking - it seems like he always has to consciously pull himself away in scenes like when he's dropping Wen off at the main street or at the end of ep 2 when Wen almost kisses him and i like the way Earth carries himself in scenes like that, he makes it easy to buy into

i really like the more meandering conversations that establish characterization and relationship dynamics. one example that comes to mind is when Jim and Wen are talking about the DVD. Full disclosure I'm not familiar with the movie referenced but judging from the title and the cover and the way Jim described it as "classic" I'm guessing it's some sort of romance. But then, "i haven't watched it in a long time. The disc is probably damaged." and then, when Wen says he can stream it if he wants, he says "that's okay, i don't want to watch it anymore." i like the way this dialogue hints at his history with love and ideals. "I don't want to watch it anymore", implying that he did at some point in his life want to watch it. The disc is probably damaged, but he can't bring himself to check to be sure. it's better to leave it alone and in the past. but in the past it was something he wanted to watch, an ideal he wanted to believe in; what changed? (who hurt u uncle jim i just want 2 talk)

the contrast between day and night life in this show ugh ugh ugh. the intimacy and vibrancy of the night, but also how lonely it sometimes can be; how harsh and uninviting the reality of daytime can be, but also how chatty and bustling. it's getting late and i'm sure way smarter people have already said much smarter things about it but just know this is a theme that always gets me and it is getting me now so fuckin hard.

and again i'm sure much more intelligent things have already been said about the relationship between Jim and Li Ming but I am fr LOVING it so far, not least of all because it reminds me so viscerally of my own teenage relationship with my parental figures skdjfnskdjfnskdjf but also the conflict between them just feels so well drawn and realistic, the way Jim is just trying to do what's best for Li Ming but doesn't know how to show that, the way Li Ming lashes out when at the end of the day all he really wants is for Uncle Jim to understand his point of view. it's some good shit u know

i do think imagining this whole situation from Li Ming's perspective is incredibly funny. like imagine it's one in the morning and you are in your room just minding your own business when a completely wasted man you've never met before wanders into your room, doesn't say a single word to you, and then when your emotionally distant uncle ushers him out he doesn't say anything to explain either he's just like "k sorry bye" and yeets himself out of there to go have shockingly tender sex with a man whose name neither of you know. and then like a month later you come into work only to find said drunk man is now your COWORKER at your UNCLE'S RESTAURANT. Li Ming doesn't get paid enough to deal with this shit. Uncle Jim wants us to think he has his life together so bad but he's just as messy of a bitch as anyone else on this show bless his heart

i'm really into the progression of the last part of ep 2, the subtle shift of the power dynamic, the way Wen so casually paying off the couple flows into Jim watching him work and understanding that they come from vastly different worlds flows into Jim telling Wen he's not fit to be anyone's home. and yet he still wants this closeness, as much as he tries to deny it; he made the choice to buy the second beer at the convenience store, he made the choice to offer it to Wen, he made the choice to let Wen rest on his shoulder if only for a little while. unstoppable force (Jim's yearning for closeness borne from a very deep loneliness) v immovable object (his abysmally low esteem of himself and his life)

as well i'm a huge hoe for glass metaphors so you know when Jim let himself want closeness with Wen by buying the beer only to come back and see him behind the window (like yes there is jealousy in that scene of the man Wen was talking to but there's also a distinct sense of never actually being able to reach Wen in his world; the reality is he stands behind the glass) a bitch was completely weak for it. it's me i'm bitch

obviously i love everything about the conversation at the end of ep 2 (a bitch is weak for a person as a home!!!) but something that especially interests me about it is what it tells us about Wen's relationship with Alan and the way he feels when he comes back to their apartment. i'm gonna be honest at this point i'm very confused about what's up with that whole clusterfuck lol but the implication that the place he lives in doesn't make him feel any of the things he described that he wanted from a home... home where someone waits for me, home where all my tiredness is gone and i have peace of mind, home that's more than just a place to sleep... how much he yearns for it that he's willing to pursue it with a man he only recently met... it paints a picture of a very lonely person and it does make me feel for him (even if I think it's really bizarre how completely casual he's being about cheating on his presumably long term partner not just with himself but with his friend who clearly knows the both of them skdjfnsdbfskdjfnsdjkfsn)

what i like most about this show so far is how at the core of it everyone just wants someone to see them and understand them. this, the aching loneliness everyone feels but in such different ways, is the driving force behind so much of the conflict and the drama and the interactions between characters. tonally it's exactly my kind of shit, i'm really looking forward to seeing how it builds as the story continues

[musical-chan]

Father of Time Chapter 19: The Goddess's Green Blessing

This was going to be the best week. 

Link enjoyed being on the beach. He was reminded of the Great Bay and felt a strange sadness that he had never had a chance to enjoy the places in Termina for what they were. Maybe with no monsters and no masks, it might have been fun. This place was certainly nice. The Sacred Realm had saved them so much travel, there was finally time to relax, no matter how much of a grump Aevum was being.  So he played in the waves and looked at seashells with his father and took time to enjoy himself. 

Their second evening there, he stared over the ocean, his feet just on the edge of the surf.  The sun set along the coast, off to the west, but there was something about seeing the light reflecting on the water before it could sink below the horizon.  He hummed a song that washed back and forth like waves and sparkled like light on the water. Some part of him wished Navi was here to enjoy this with him; she never really did get to relax when they were together.  He hoped she was happy wherever she might be.  The water lapped at his toes and he thought of home.

Without conscious decision, he hummed Saria's song.

Hey Link! How are you!?

"Oh hey Saria, sorry! I didn't mean to call."

It's no problem at all.  It sounds windy where you are.  Is it still cold?

"Oh, no! We kinda took a shortcut. I think we're pretty far south now.  I'm on a BEACH! It's all sandy and there's a ton of water. Did you know about the ocean?"

I don't think so. Is it nice?

"Yeah, it's nice and kinda scary at the same time. It's a lot of water and super deep. All I can see is water all the way to the horizon! I wish I still had that Zora tunic, haha.  Didn't have to worry about drowning in that thing."  He blinked, remembering he still had the mask in his bags. Oh, he probably could have used that to go swimming.

I bet you could go get another when you get back, right?

Link paused, thinking about going back to the Zora city, wondering if he wanted to risk running into Princess Ruto again.  It would be nice to have something for swimming again. The mask was okay but transformations were never entirely pleasant on his body.  Well, he'd have to think about that more.  Surely Ruto wasn't still obsessed with him. He pretty much turned her down cold accidentally the last time.

"Yeah, maybe I could.  I should."

If you're south, does that mean you're closer to home now?

"It sure does!  Dad says we'll definitely be back by winter now!  I can't wait to see everyone again. How's your fairy doing? Any sign of bad things with the Deku Tree?"

Oh Link, that's so great! You come and see me as soon as you get home, okay?  My fairy is fine! It's so nice of you to ask.  She says your house fairies are lonely and they miss the treats.

"Oh, right.  I thought they would have left when we didn't come back."

No, they decided it's their home now.  Oh right, you asked about the Deku Tree. He is fine!  Sometimes we get more Moblins trying to get to the Temple but I think they've started to give up now.  I've heard some worrying things from the edge of the forest though.  When you get back, maybe you can find out what's going on?

"Of course!  Man, it has been a while, hasn't it?  I got a letter from Malon but haven't heard anything else."

I don't think it's too bad but there seem to be more monsters pushing at the edges of Hyrule.

"Thanks for the warning! I'll check it out as soon as we're back. I can hardly believe we'll be home soon.  Maybe a few more weeks, right?  Let me know if anything happens though, okay? I can get to the Temple pretty quick if I need to."

I definitely will.  I should go though. We'll talk again soon, right?

"Right after I talk to the last Goddess!"

Bye Link! Later!

(Read the rest on AO3!)

[sapphireginger]

Nobody’s Listening

AO3 Link

Summary:

Stiles just wants someone to listen, but who?

She just wants someone to let her listen, but who?

Stiles just wanted someone to listen but no one had the time or was willing to make the time. Lydia was off with Jordan. Scott was off with Kira. Allison was off with Isaac. Everyone was off with their person. Everyone except Stiles.

So, feeling desperate and ashamed he felt as much but deciding ‘fuck it’, Stiles posted an ad online for someone to just listen.

After a woman named Kali Blackwood responded, they met somewhere comfortable. Despite Stiles’s skepticism, when Kali gave him a go ahead gesture, he went ahead and started. At first her commanding presence and fierce aura intimidated him while also giving him flushed cheeks and putting him at a serious risk for a boner.

Despite that, slowly he fell into a groove and it was going really well so far and yet, halfway through their first meeting, Kali got a text.

Stiles felt defeated, slumping down to make himself smaller, because of course he couldn’t even get someone to listen this way. He told Kali that it was okay and she should get that, but without even checking the alert, Kali simply turned her phone over with a smile, gesturing for Stiles to continue.

When Stiles just stared at her, wondering if this was some kind of joke or perhaps he was dreaming, Kali reminded him what he was talking about and Stiles continued.

Later when he was all talked out (shockingly enough), he thanked Kali and bit at his lip nervously before blurting out in question as to why she hadn’t checked her phone.

Kali didn’t hesitate and quickly let Stiles know that she genuinely wanted to listen to him and her phone could wait. Kali said she was someone who could never express herself with words but she was always good at listening.

She’d been looking for someone to let her listen, someone who in turn needed to be heard. Stiles needed to be heard and Kali needed someone to let her listen.

So, they agreed to do it again until one day they switched and it was Kali’s turn to talk while Stiles listened.

Yeah. Two peas in a pod.

Not to mention it turned out that Kali’s father, Deucalion was good friends with Stiles’s dad. Neither dad had expected their kids to get along so well but the first time they all sat down to eat together it was obvious to both Noah and Deucalion that the other’s child needed what their own was able to provide.

“This’ll be interesting,” Noah said as he clinked his bottle with Deucalion’s.

The other man snorted, surprised at the sound coming from his own nose. He scrunched up his nose and shrugged at Noah. “A relief is more like it. Your son can give my daughter what I can’t.”

Noah nodded. “And your daughter can give my son what I can’t.”

“I had such a hard time with her because Kali wouldn’t talk to me and I’m not much of a talker myself. Then Stiles comes along and presto, she’s doing both. He didn’t try to change her or force her.”

“My wife was always so good with Stiles and his rambling, something I’ve never been able to handle. I often wished he’d just stop for a minute to let me catch up but I should’ve spent more time listening.”

Deucalion squeezed Noah’s shoulder and nodded solemnly before smiling. “Thank hell they’ve found each other then, right?”

Noah didn’t get a chance to reply as the two in question bounded downstairs and towards the door. “Bye, Dad!” Kali said while Stiles just waved. It was such a drastic, yet welcome change and the two parents finally felt like the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

Thank hell, Deucalion moved to town and just happened to be qualified as a source for the Sheriff’s Department.

Thank hell Kali had just gotten a new computer for her birthday.

Thank hell Stiles put up that online ad.

Thank hell they found each other and now things would be different, now things would be better than ever before.

Thank hell.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Quote:

Sometimes we need someone to just listen. Not to try and fix anything or offer alternatives, but to just be there… to listen. An ear that listens can be medicine for a heart that hurts.

✦ Steve Maraboli ✦