#side note but IDK if the author intended it

[philomaela]

I think it's actually super funny that fundamentally Corlys and Rhaenyra do the same thing and pass their children off as Laenor's kids. Talk about a pair that truly understand each other lmfao.

[themuseofbaroque]

astro obvs. & notes #1 - general

author’s note - this is for entertainment purposes only, none of this is fact. these are simply my own opinions!

- neptune 1H 🤝 pisces rising, noticing their eyes first. the water influence to these placements adds something that draws you in like a current, no pun intended. i used to work with a pisces rising, and she literally looked like a pretty fish (lmfao) big, shiny eyes. either of these placements can find it incredibly easy to appear sensual or seductive.

- speaking of water placements! i’ve also noticed pisces placements tend to take a lot of pictures around water. beaches, hot tubs, rivers.

- this can also be said for air signs (esp. libra) but with things they enjoy! i’m always seeing personal interest posts from libras, aquarians and geminis. music, video games, political causes, shows they’re watching, food, celebrities, etc. anything they like, they post. anything.

- i’ve never laughed harder than when i’m with people who have heavy gemini, capricorn, sagittarius and leo placements

- in my personal opinion and experience, capricorn risings are what people think scorpio rising is. i’ve only met one scorpio rising irl (that i know of) and she did not fit martian/plutonian ruling at all. celebrity examples ⬇️

kim hongjoong of ateez. the intimidation factor, the style, sex appeal, the interest in piercings/tattoos. he’s a capricorn rising, with his chart ruler, saturn, in the sign of aries so we see a lot of red/martian influence from him as well.

megan fox. she’s been a little fuckin weird ever since she dated mgk (that man makes me physically ill to look at much less read about) but! she had her bad bitch moments! being known primarily for her sex appeal + starring in jennifer’s body (a gothic treasure btw) i feel is very scorpio coded however she herself is a capricorn rising, with a sagittarius saturn in the 11h, more fire influence from her as well just like with hongjoong.

joan jett. THEE female guitarist of the 80s. her whole career was surrounded by sex, scandals, drugs, all the darker themes of rock n roll in general. she’s another fire ruled capricorn rising and a sagittarius saturn in the 11h like megan. her style and even her personality has an edge to it, much more fitting for scorpio/plutonian stereotypes rather the capricorn ones. imo.

- actors who’ve done major/recognizable roles in horror usually have a capricorn neptune. neptune is imagination and capricorn is ruled by the devil card in tarot. combine the two and you have quite literally = dark imagination. celebrity examples ⬇️

mia goth staring in the X series as the main face of the trilogy

bill skarsgard being the main face of the IT remake as pennywise

evan peters as tate langdon in AHS, he also played jeffery dahmer recently for netflix.

- capricorn actually shows up quite a bit in the horror genre, esp. gore and paranormal. both actors and writers.

- sagittarius too, oddly enough. a lot of well known faces of horror have major sagittarius placements/stelliums/jupiter dominance.

- underdeveloped cancer placements are more manipulative and two faced than geminis. i see so much gem slander on here, and don’t get me wrong, i love both cancer and gemini placements! however i’ve met and befriended quite a few of both, and cancers by far have been the common denominator in issues around them more than once. stirring the pot then turning around and playing the victim when people are frustrated, lying, playing both sides to better their own situation, and even playing people against each other. i’ve never seen such hateful behaviors from the geminis i know irl.

- aries men are much shyer compared to the women

- taurus women i’ve met irl get pregnant very easily. venus? good coochie? idk

- grand trines are some of the most beautiful people i’ve ever seen (a grand trine is when someone’s big 3, so sun/moon/rising, are in the same element but in all 3 different signs. ex: virgo sun, taurus moon, capricorn rising)

- queer individuals with pisces placements can pass as straight pretty easily if they wanted to. most of them are chameleons

- aries risings i’m so sorry for the household you had growing up. i see martian childhoods usually being the ones who dealt with screaming matches, toxic parents, poverty and underlying issues with siblings that last into adulthood

- i’m not surprised at all when libra placements tell me they’re in college for a general studies degree because they can’t figure out what they wanna do yet

- a lot of fan favorite female characters in video games are canonically cancers

- if you think your rising sign doesn’t suit you very well, try looking at whatever planet correlates with your gender identity. masculine: sun and mars, feminine: venus and moon. the houses and signs of these should help you out a little bit

- libra placements absolutely get favoritism at least once in their life, jobs/family dynamics especially

- sagittarius women usually have rough love lives, at least in the beginning. a lot of them try to save and help partners who don’t deserve it and they get hurt badly in the process. same goes with pisces women

- virgo venus is not that bad of a placement as stereotypes make it out to be. clean freaks? yes. perfectionists? usually, yes. loyal? yes. remember the small things? yes. romantic? no. at least not in a cheesy way. sensual? yes.

- lilith aspects to any of the big 3 is a bad bitch placement. honorable mention is venus/lilith aspects as well

- air signs like spicy food just as much as fire signs

- a lot of rappers have heavy mercurial placements (virgo and gemini) (3h and 6h)

- mc aspecting venus in anyway is usually the person who fools around with coworkers/may even cheat on a partner with someone they work with. most people with this placement have definitely had a partner at one point or another worried about someone they work with. may be the type to have a “work wife”/“work husband”

- 6h chiron is the person who’s life has been majorly impacted by their own or someone else’s health. disabilities, chronic illnesses, stds, limb amputation, skin grafts, etc.

- aries moon and mercury combo = bad potty mouth, cursing is an almost unbreakable habit

- speaking of aries! aries and aquarius placements together in any of these ➡️ moon, venus, mars, lilith, pluto ➡️ usually have a tendency to jump around from partner to partner very quickly, including falling back into exes. their thoughts and opinions on people and things change SO quickly that they usually are the kind of people who have rosters (unintentionally). they are upfront, they don’t lie or drag anyone along but they do seem to be restless when it comes to romance. even if they don’t physically date a lot, they may often THINK of it, their minds going a million miles a minute

- geminis do not get the rep they deserve for being freaks. not only does the sign traditionally rule the throat/lungs/hands/nervous system, (choking, breath play, hickies, hand fetish/fingering, blindfolding and sub/dom dynamics) but it’s also ruled by the lovers card in tarot 👁️👁️

- fixed signs 🤝 tattoos

- sagittarius/capricorn/pisces/libra placements usually have issues with religion/spirituality growing up. either they were forced into one as kids and they have an unhealthy relationship with their god now as an adult or they simply struggle to find something that feels true to them. this is just my experience but every single friend i’ve had who’s left the christian church, had an interest in paganism/buddhism, joined the satanic temple, grew up as strict catholics, etc, have had these placements. religion is a revolving door for them and it’s a common subject of struggle in their life

- women with pisces placements tend fall into unhealthy relationships very easily, especially if they’re heterosexual and dating men. they fall in love with the idea of love before the actual person presenting it. they are bossed around very easy and usually don’t like confrontation. honorable mentions for this as well: pisces stellium, cancer stellium/mercury/saturn, 7h saturn

- cheesy hallmark movies make me think of taurus/libra venus placements, 7h venus as well

- 5h cancer/moon/venus, cancer rising/moon dom, 5h/8h synastry aspects please be wary of accidental pregnancies! wrap it before you tap it cause y’all extra fertile 💀

- most well known streamers/youtubers have 10h stelliums, including their venus. a lot of them will end up dating another social media presence/someone who shares a platform/job with them

yay first post! pardon any spelling errors i’m proof reading this half asleep ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

[delespresso]

RERUN ━━ Fiyero x fem!reader

author's note; this took longer than expected, i'm sorry! but here we are <3

prompt; "Admit it you missed me." "I certainly missed kicking your ass, if that's what you mean." for Fiyero x Reader? (maybe they knew eachother as kids?)

summary; fiyero's arrival in shiz university had everyone in a frenzy, but especially a certain lady from winkie country

side notes; i'm using a surname for the reader this time but its not an oc, feel free to imagine your own name! (i just didn't wanna use y/n). never read the books, so if i say anything about the vinkus/ winkie country is purely from google searches and maybe even made up by myself idk 😭

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

The newspaper pretty much hit her in the face.

She'd been walking in the courtyard, intending to head back to her dorm to get ready for her classes after an early morning jog. But the newspaper that somehow flew from a stack on one of the tables quite literally smacked her in the face.

She grabbed it with a huff, about to throw it aside. Of course, until the headline of the latest report from The Shiz Gazette caught her eye.

Prince Fiyero Spotted at Shiz!

She read it over and over again. Looked at the picture they'd printed repeatedly. Then she tossed it onto the floor, quite literally stomping over it as she ran back to her dorm.

When was the last time she saw that stupid, handsome prince? They were both younger then. Their separation was mainly because he could never for the life of him keep himself in one school — there was always something he did that had him transferred to a new one.

She'd thought that now she was in Shiz, maybe they wouldn't meet again. After all, it was quite a prestigious school. Maybe his nonchalant, slacking attitude would have him rejected the moment they saw his name.

She was so wrong.

He was here. Fiyero Tigelaar was here. The Winkie Prince. The boy she grew up with. The boy who stole her butterfly clips for no other reason than to make her run in the rain to catch him. The bane of her existence.

She was sure the universe was conspiring against her. The second she'd changed into her uniform, she left her dorm. Admittedly, it wasn't the typical blues that everyone wore. She was one of the few with a different shade; greys and lighter blues instead. She intended to head straight for her first class— only to find a small crowd gathered outside.

That horse. Oh, she knew the horse. She recognised the bloody horse before she even saw the person.

When someone finally moved their head out of the way, she caught sight of Fiyero Tigelaar himself. He was by the directory board, figuring out the layout of the place. Galinda was there too, no doubt trying to offer some touring services. He turned his head, about to respond to the blonde girl — when his gaze drifted over the girl's shoulder and found a familiar face.

A smile immediately broke on his ridiculously handsome face, his hand raised for a wave. It was as if everyone's attention immediately snapped to her.

She sighed inwardly, her eyes narrowed. The slightest nod was all the acknowledgement she gave him before she turned and trudged off elsewhere, avoiding him at all costs.

She'd heard of his little escapade to the Ozdust Ballroom, bringing quite the group of students with him for a night out in town. Already he was rubbing off on everyone, influencing them into his bad habits.

Fiyero had been in Shiz for a week now, and she'd successfully avoided him. But of course her peace and quiet couldn't last forever. In the back shelves of the library, as she skimmed through the book bindings to find a history book — she was loudly interrupted.

“Lady Yarrow.”

She nearly dropped a book with a gasp, startled by the sudden intrusion. Then she was quick to hush the person, spinning on her heels to see Fiyero's smug expression.

“This is a library,” she pointed out.

“Really? It was introduced to me as the ‘bookplace’,” he hummed, looking around as if it was a new discovery.

She rolled her eyes, inhaling deeply to prevent herself from yelling at him like she used to back when they were in Winkie Country.

“Library,” she repeated. “And you're meant to be quiet.”

Fiyero grinned, knowing she was getting ticked off already.

“And is this ever-present tension a new development? Or have I forgotten how easy you are to rile up?” he teased.

The young girl he knew was always sensitive, took everything to heart. They weren't necessarily best of friends but they weren't enemies either — or so he believed.

“Why are you here?” she deflected with ease as she turned back to searching for her book.

“I wanted to read.”

“Ha!”

“Shh, its a library,” he exclaimed in a mock whisper, repeating her earlier words as she shot him an exasperated glare.

“Why are you in Shiz?” she asked instead, moving on from the topic.

“Transferred from Royal Winkie.”

“Kicked out, I believe is the right term.”

“Oh so you have been keeping up with me?” he exclaimed, a bit of a giddy grin on his face as tailed her through the shelves.

When she didn't respond, he just skipped his way until he was in front of her. He walked backwards as she moved forward, still looking through the titles.

“I haven't. But you know our parents,” she grumbled.

“Admit it, princess, you missed me,” he teased, poking at her shoulder.

She swatted his hand away, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. He was still as insufferable as ever.

“I certainly missed kicking your ass, if that's what you mean.”

Fiyero chuckled at that, but he persisted anyway. He just kept shadowing her through the library, pestering her with random teases or jokes even until she was leaving. Even then he followed her.

She just couldn't seem to shake him even if she tried.

“Princess,” he drawled, knowing full well how much she hated when he called her that.

He couldn't help it though — getting on her nerves was his hobby. Not to mention, he hasn't seen her in years.

She ignored him though, continuing to walk through the halls and towards the garden instead. Fiyero knew she was stubborn, but so was he.

“Ignoring me won't make me go away,” he pointed out.

“Throwing a log at you might.”

His laugh was awfully gleeful for someone who just got threatened. When she settled at one of the tables in the garden, she noticed he wasn't directly with her anymore.

Just as she thought she was free of his torment, there was a daffodil suddenly in front of her face. She looked at the hand holding the yellow flower, following it up to see his cheeky and smug face. In a smooth motion, he slid the flower in her hair as an extra accessory.

"You know, I think I'll enjoy wearing you down," he said, before giving her his signature smile and walking away.

Fiyero Tigelaar made it his life mission to bother her at all times from that day onward — letting history repeat itself, as always.

liked this tale? leave a tip!

[leclercsixteen]

𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 ! ᶜˡ¹⁶

you're intertwining your soul with somebody else ⋆˚࿔

𝓬harles leclerc x ���ale reader synopsis: it was always y/n and charles, charles and y/n. nobody ever came between them. then, charles got a girlfriend and y/n gets jealous.

genre: social media, angst kinda?? warnings: y/n used for reader. lowk mild angst. mostly told through social media posts. kms joke. reader being jealous for no reason.

author's note: not intended for female readers & not written for female readers. using joris as a fc lowkey haha. also!! no shade to alex at all just a fun piece of fiction for fun :))

masterlist. navigation. part two.

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, f1, and others tagged: charles_leclerc

youruser think it’s safe to say the break was fun 🫡

view all comments

userone now why did y/n only post him and charles yet charles did not post a single picture of him and y/n?? ⤷ usertwo don't tell me my fav platonic bfs are going through a break up ⤷ userone if they are I might kms idk tho

userthree when are they becoming canon ⤷ userfour bro ? canon 😭? have you never been in a non fictional fandom before ⤷ userthree I've been stuck in the 9-1-1 fandom forever free me

charles_leclercs love ya man! ⤷ youruser much love char 🤍 ⤷ userfive "love ya man" daughter or "much love char" son

usersix just kiss already gyatt DAMN bro ⤷ userseven bro chill we don't want to assume anything ⤷ usersix they've literally kissed before wdym 💔💔 ⤷ usereight alright grandma lets get you back to bed

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, youruser, f1, and others tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

charles_leclerc mi amor ❤️

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usernine this is embarrassing ⤷ userten wdym? its just a gf and a bf ⤷ usernine no for y/n he posted pics of him and charles while charles only posted him and alex

youruser yall cute or whateva 💁💁❤️ liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others ⤷ usereleven oh babes im sorry 😭

usertwelve where is y/n??????

userthirteen not me looking for y/n immediately .. i might have a problem I fear ⤷ userfourteen no cause I did the exact same thing...

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, willne, and others

youruser mi vida 🌊

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userfifteen oh my petty king how i love you ⤷ usersixteen how is this petty? ⤷ userfifteen for every break in the f1 season y/n and charles have a shared vacation and post each other but this year charles posted his new gf (dw I love her) and said 'mi amor' in the caption so it's just funny that y/n used 'mi vida' which means 'my life' 😭😭 ⤷ usersixteen while i think you're reaching this is funny

lewishamilton looking great y/n! ⤷ youruser that's all you man! ⤷ userseventeen "chary/n" daughter or "lewy/n" son

usereighteen oh wow

usernineteen an interesting way to propose but yes

usertwenty just realizing we haven't seen much of y/n shirtless...but im not complaining ⤷ usertwenone right?? like chary/n please fight more

HIS VACATION WAS supposed to be relaxing, yet he’s having one sided beef with his closest friend on instagram and causing a ruckus on twitter—and he just knew his pr manager wouldn’t be happy with him at all. but, he didn’t care as he laid on his back in the day bed in the airbnb charles rented out for the week. they found themselves in greece for this year’s break, but that wasn’t the only thing that was different.

charles’s girlfriend was with them.

charles of course didn’t bring her along without asking y/n if he was okay with it, to which he said that it was okay and that charles should invite her along. so, truthfully, it was his own fault. he loved alexandra, he really did. she was nice and the perfect girl for charles, yet he couldn't help the pit in his stomach that formed when charles said that he found somebody a couple weeks ago.

this trip wasn't the first time that y/n met alexandra. he actually really liked her and charles together when he first met her. but, a rock had settled in the bottom of his stomach. he wasn't sure why, but he knew it had to be there because of charles.

y/n had never questioned his sexuality, he was 26 for goodness sake. questioning your sexuality is for teens who fell in love with their best friend—at least that's what y/n thought. maybe he was being truthful or he just didn't want another thing to worry about along with his and charles's f1 careers.

he held his phone above his head in the air as he scrolled on twitter, pursing his lips at every post he saw that included either him, charles, or him and charles together. a knock on his door paused his doom scrolling momentarily.

"it's open," he called as he continued to scroll on twitter. he liked a couple of funny tweets as the door opened and charles appeared in his doorway—well, the airbnb's doorway if you want to get technical.

y/n turned his head toward the doorway and sighed once he realized it was the man he started one sided beef with just a couple of hours ago. "what do you want?" he asked, his voice venomous as he dropped his phone onto his bare chest. it was hot in greece, so he and the other guys on the trip practically lived in linen outfits, flip flops, and swim trunks.

charles scoffed a laugh as he stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him. "what is wrong?" charles asked as he took a couple of steps closer to the day bed. he stopped just in front of the coffee table that held y/n's iced coffee that he hadn't touched since he got home a couple of hours ago—it sat in its own condensation and the ice melted, making it look like a concoction that a middle school boy would make with his school lunch.

y/n shook his head and feigned innocence, "i don't know what you mean. nothing is wrong." turns out his career choice was the right one because he was a terrible actor as charles raised a brow and looked at y/n like a parent who just caught their kid in a lie. y/n side eyed charles before rolling his eyes. "charles, i'm too tired for this," y/n groaned as he wiped his face with his hands, his knuckles rubbing at his eyes.

"do not lie to me, y/n," charles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. y/n came to the conclusion that this was not a good look on charles; frustration. charles looked better when he was smiling and meeting fans. "you created unnecessary drama on instagram and twitter and now silvia is texting me to fix it while we're on vacation," charles rolled his eyes. he looked like he did not want to be there arguing with y/n, and neither did y/n.

y/n raised his hands in surrender, "hey, i didn't start shit. the fans pointed something out and then i played with it, nothing else! they read into our posts and i thought it was funny."

he did not, in fact, think it was funny, not one bit. he wanted his best friend back, yet his best friends attention was on his girlfriend and making sure that they stayed out of drama on the internet.

charles sighed again and he moved. he now sat on the coffee table in front of the day bed so he was closer to y/n's height and they were now face-to-face. "i get it," charles started, "alexandra is a new addition to the group, but that doesn't mean you get to be dramatic on the internet. it's frustrating for me and for our pr teams. you need to talk to me, y/n, instead of doing something stupid."

"but my reasoning is stupid," y/n said, now feeling like a child who's gotten scolded for something. "it won't make sense to you and it's petty and childish behavior. i don't want to talk about it," he was whining now, and he wasn’t sure where it came from. y/n doesn’t whine, he mocks and he yells, but he doesn’t whine.

"i bet you it's not that stupid," charles smiled comfortingly at y/n, trying to get his friend to open up to him as if they hadn't done this before. "come on, hit me," he laughs as he leans back and rests his hands behind him on the coffee table.

it was silent for a couple of beats as y/n thought about what he wanted to say and if he wanted to say it or not. his brain would sound like car crash after car crash if someone listened in. it was chaotic and he couldn't concentrate, so he just said words and hoped that they made sense and didn't make the conversation awkward.

"i think i like you."

well that definitely made the conversation awkward.

a/n: lmk if you guys want a part two cause yes im leaving it on a cliffhanger sorry ☺️☺️

[slvt4chrissturniolo]

the first time

warnings: lowercase intended, dry humping, palming, p in v, use of pet names, pain, clit rubbing, cumming in condom, not proofread

summary: y/ns and chris's first time having sex

authors note: this is my first time writing a long(er) fic! idk if it was any good so please tell me if not and how I could improve. I wanna know if you guys like fics these lengths or burbs more too, now get to reading ! ♡

you and Chris have been dating for around a couple months now, and you guys have gotten really close. you've been opening up, and doing things around him you'd only do alone in privacy. you guys have taken your relationship slow, but you've recently wanted to take it to a new level. you've wanted to get to know more of him, you wanted to reach a new level of intimacy you two have never experienced with him before. you wanted more than what you've have, you want all of him.

when you were cuddling with chris, watching a show you felt a need for him, a need you've never felt. you were laying next to him with his arm wrapped around you, but you wanted to lay under him. you zoned out thinking of what you wanted to do to him, and what you wanted him to do to you. he realized you were staring into his ocean blue eyes for a while so he paused the tv and he turned his head to yours. his thumb rubbed circles your forearm, making you feel at ease.

"what's wrong baby"

"oh nothing I just zoned out"

you lied, and he could tell. he looked into your eyes with love, and comforted you. he wanted to know everything, no matter if it was just a stupid little thought.

"tell me what's on your mind sweetheart"

you were embarrassed to say it out loud. you didn't even know how he'd react, or how he'd feel. you trusted him with your whole heart, and you knew you wanted this. although, you didn't know if he did.

"I want- uhm"

you felt so needy, you couldn't manage to get the words out your mouth.

"please can we- ..."

"You can tell me y/n, you can tell me anything"

you couldnt let the words release, it felt like they were in a cage, and they were begging to be set free. you brought your hand over the chris's sweatpants, and you started to play with the waistband. you looked into his eyes with lust. you slowly started to move your hand closer to his member, not wanted to do anything unwanted to him. you didn't want to push a boundary, or invade privacy. but the adrenaline started to rush through you. you felt a need in between your thighs. you started to look at him with submissive, puppy looking eyes, while desperately begging.

" please i- i- ive wanted to.. for a while ive wanted to-"

in a rush you started to feel around his tent. you looked away from his sparkling eyes, unaure of the outcome of what you just did. you felt your cheeks turned red as you watched chris's eyebrows eyes in shock. he didn't expect you to do that, but he was filled with bliss. ever since he laid his eyes on you, he's fantasized about you. he's never wanted to pressure you, but he's always wished for this moment. and although, he was flustered. chris nodded fast, and whispered yes please under his breath as he smashed his lips into yours. a wet patch on your underwear formed instantly when you felt him get rock hard. as the kiss deepened, you started to rub the tent on his sweatpants. he brought a hand to you face to cup your cheek.

your free hand ran to his scalp, you're fingers were running through his soft hair as his tounge was exploring your mouth. his hands then found thier way to your waist, they began to roam your sides. he gripped into your waist, digging his fingers into you. he pulled his lips away not long before lifting you up onto his lap. you immediately felt his big cock pulse, and throb under your heat. you started to grind on him, releasing little whimpers, his hands went to your hips to help you go faster, and give him more pleasure. you attached your arms around his neck, with his head resting on the headboard and mouth open in an O shape, you began to trace kisses all over his neck.

chris felt your boob's press against his chest, he needed to feel them in his hands, nothing with between the two of you. he grasped your shirt, and looked up at you for approval, you nodded and then he removed your shirt from your head. he couldn't take his eyes off of your tits, he was enchanted by them. he got so turned on by seeing them in a black lace bra. but he wanted more, so he grabbed the back of your bra and unclasped it. it fell off your arms and he was in love. seeing you this bare got him so worked up, his cock started to ache and hurt. you grasped his shirt, signaling for him to take it off. he pulled it over his head, and your hands began to roam his chest, not long before he grabbed your waist, and flipped you onto your back. you let out a whimper from the sudden movement. you and chris were holding eye contact, unable to stop staring at each other's dilated pupils. his lanky fingers covered the waistband of your pants, awaiting for your permission.

"please chris"

you were begging for him, youve been dreaming of this moment for so long. you've only seen him like this in your dreams, and he's only dreamed of you like this aswell. then his fingers began to loop around the waistband before he slid your pants off, he was quick, he need you just as much and you need him. you were wearing matching black lace panties, he loved your matching set. he's seen you in a bra and underwear, and you've seen him without a shirt on, but this all felt so different knowing what was to come. he took his time admiring you. this all didn't feel real to him, he was in a trance. he whispered little praises under his breath while brushing his hands over your waist, worshiping what's in front of him. he made eye contact with you before you watched his slide his sweatpants off, revealing his big hard member. it was bulging through his boxers, his boxers that didn't stay on for much longer. once they came off his cock sprung out, it was veiny and thick. you've had sex many times, but you knew this time would be different.

he held on to your hip with one hand, when the other was pulling your drenched panties to the side, showing him how soaked you are. he stared at your glossy pussy with a wide smile.

"shit ma.. you're so wet"

you whimper from his words, youve never heard him speak like that. he ran his fingers through your dripping folds, causing your legs to shake around his hips.

"can I take this off baby"

you nodded, then his hand on your hip let go, and he took your underwear off. his eyes filled with stars, in his eyes you looked like an angel. he ran his hands through his hair, unaware of how he got here.

"fuck.. You're gorgeous"

although he hates the feeling, chris prioritizes you more than anything, so he leaned over to open his bedside table to grab a condom. the light was hitting his shoulder blades just right, youve wanted to see him like this for so long now. he came back into you're vision, and looked through your eyes while tearing open the condom wrapper like a wild animal. he slid the ultra thin latex onto his enlarged cock, then pumped it a few times. his hands gripped into your shaking thighs, spreading then further. he held his base and lined himself up to your entrance.

"can i?"

"y- yes"

"tell me if it hurts baby, okay?"

"okay"

you looked up at him through your lashes as he rubbed his tip all over your wet pussy before pushing it inside you. you whine, and make a sour face from the feeling. chris leaned into you wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight in his arms. you put your arms around him, clutching onto his back. In a low and dry voice, he whispered in your ear.

"shh.. you're doing so good"

he was half way inside you, and you couldn't find the pleasure. you're eyes were screwed shut from the sharp pain in your stomach. one of chris's hands made their way up to your scalp. he began to kiss along your jaw, and run his fingers through your hair. his voice tickled your spine as he comforted you.

"are you okay mama?

you didn't wanna make his heart ache, you were holding in a scream and only let out a whimper.

"tell me when it feels good babe"

for minutes, you were laying In his arms. you felt a discomfort inside, but you've never felt safer against his touch. it felt like forever before feeling the pain leave. what once felt like stabs in your stomach began to feel amazing. you began to moan, and chris could tell you started to feel pleasure. he jerked his hips forward, pushing his whole length inside you, earning a loud and long moan from you. your nails scratched his back, leaving red lines. your eyes were shut, and your mouth was wide open.

"shh it's okay baby, I'm right here"

you started to ease up, and relax as you got used to his size. it felt unlike anything you've ever experienced. you felt every vain inside you, the feeling made your pussy clench

"mm it- f- feels so good chris"

you talked in between heavy breaths, you felt stuffed. he pulled his body away from yours and grasped your waist. he would slowly move his member in, and out of your sloppy ways. letting himself get coated in your slick, you were making a huge wet mess. whimpers, moans, and the sound his cock sloshing into your tight hole. you were continuously whining with your bottom lip in between your teeth, and eyebrows stitched together. chris wanted to see you fall to pieces.

he rubbed his fingers over your clit in circles, making your jaw drop. your vision was blurry and fuzzy. he looked down at you with a smirk on your face, he was so happy to know he good he could make you feel. his speed increased, his fingers worked faster, and he began to pound into you. the feeling was far too much, you couldn't handle being so overstimulated. a knot formed in your stomach, your eyebrows were pushed together. you clawed at his back, and ran your nails over his shoulders. you clenched around his dick, you let out a string of moans before letting words release from your mouth.

"c- chriss i- I'm gonna- cum"

your breathing was long and heavy, you felt as if you were gasping for air. chris continued to circle your clit, helping you fully reach your climax. you were both surprised at how you were about to cum, but you weren't complaining. you started to rub your boob's, and circle over your hardened sensitive nipples. the sound of skin slapping and moaning bounced off the walls .

"come on babygirl, cum around this cock"

with his words, you released all over his huge length. you heard a ring in your ears and your stomach was fuzzy. you squeezed your legs around his hips, hugging around them. he removed his fingers from you clit, he brought them over to hold you waist to stop you from squirming. your mouth would close, and your moans wouldn't stop either. you were a soaking moaning mess. chris kept pounding inside your cunt, spreading your sticky cum all over him. your shiny white cum leaked down onto the bed sheets, but he wasn't stopping to clean up. you looked up at him with blurry vision while biting your lip. you felt every drop of cum get drained.

chris was still chasing his high, abusing your pussy in doing so. his breath hitched, and you felt his dick twitch inside your pussy. he leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, held you in his arms while jerking his hips back and forth. he began to rub his balls with his fingers, rubbing his soft skin in circles. he let out a low groan next to your ear, then shot warm cum into the condom.

you felt his hot breath hike up the hair on your neck as he gasped for hair in your ear. the two of you stayed in each other's arms, in disbelief of the pleasure you guys just felt. your thoughts were foggy, you were unsure of what to do, or what to say. you rubbed his aching back, trying to calm his breathing.

"I- I love you chris"

"I love you more y/n"

a trail of kisses were left on your neck, sure to leave marks tomorrow. but you couldn't care less, youve never been this happy. you started to enjoy the silence, you never wanted this moment to end.

dividers by <3 @bernardsbendystraws <3

taglist <3 @sophand4n4 @luckysouls @iloveduckssm @mattsbug lmk if you wanna be added <3

[blitziwitchwrites]

pairing: gym teacher!toji fushiguro x reader

content tags/warnings: age gap (reader is eighteen but still in high school, toji is late 30s), teacher/student, smut, oral (m receiving), overstimulation, dumbification, piv sex, virgin!reader and experienced!toji, taboo sex

author’s note: idk why i find this hot guys, but i’m sorry i dooooo…. obviously don’t do this in real life guys but thank god for fiction.

—————

imagining gym teacher!toji who can’t help but stare at the quiet secretly athletic girl in his new high school seniors class…

gym teacher!toji who had never looked at a younger girl once in his life and was always appalled at the thought of being attracted to someone younger than him, much less someone his son’s age and his own student.

gym teacher!toji who saw you coming in on the first day of the new school year and saw you walking up the gym bleachers with your headphones on and your backpack secured over your shoulders, your head down and lost in your own little world, and had to take a double take for the first time in his life.

gym teacher!toji who was more quiet during opening day orientation, with the rest of his co-gym teachers, than he ever had been in his whole career. while he was usually right up front, helping go over the rules and expectations of the gym period, this time he was in the back, standing away from the giant screen with the google slides presentation as he watched you, noticing you just doodling in one of your notebooks with one ear exposed and one ear still covered by your headphones.

gym teacher!toji who felt his heart leap when the gym teachers started to assign squad spots and he saw you were in his class. he watched you walking down the bleachers as he called your name, before you tripped over your own feet and tumbled down the bleaches. gym teacher!toji who immediately stepped forward to catch you before you could hit the ground, only for his heart to skyrocket to his throat at the way you grabbed his biceps to help catch yourself, his large and beefy arms secured around you, his hands on your back as your face bumps into his chest from the collision. his face turns red when you look up at him, giggling nervously with a bright pink, mortified face before you quickly let him go and quickly apologize and rush to sit in your squad spot.

gym teacher!toji who watched you walk to his line the following day in class to get your locker lock and combination so you can pick your last gym locker for the school year. when you approached him for the lock, he just stared at you at first, unsure what to say, before he realizes he was staring when he notices you anxiously fidgeting your hands. quickly, perhaps harsher than intended, he silently signs off on your locker lock and jots down your locker combination before quickly ushering you away, his nerves getting the best of him.

gym teacher!toji who watches you on your first day of actual class, which is just an ordinary game of dodgeball because it is friday, and watches you standing in the back with several of the other girls. however, you’re standing on the other side of the gym, away from the rest of the girls who seem to keep pointing over at you and laughing while you stare straight ahead.

gym teacher!toji who swats a dodgeball away from him when it comes flying towards him, the ball hitting one of the girls in their back. while normally toji would just apologize and let her stay in the game, this time he tells her to go to the outline, because if maybe she’d been paying attention or even attempted to catch the ball, he would let her stay in the game. gym teacher!toji who feels a small sense of accomplishment when you giggle as the girl glares at you on her way out, but only feels prouder when a ball comes flying towards you and you catch it, much to toji’s surprise.

gym teacher!toji who watches as you throw a ball, taking one of the boys on the other side of the gym out, resorting in the boy stomping off while his friends keep attempting to target you now and pelt the ball at you, only for you to successfully dodge the balls that come flying at you. however, gym teacher!toji prepares to blow his whistle and tell one of the boys to sit out when they suddenly shout that you’re a ‘bitch’, only for you to catch the ball they threw at you and pelt it at the boy’s face, knocking him on the ground and giving him a nasty bloody nose.

gym teacher!toji who is quite proud of you, but has to send you to the principal’s office and the boy to the nurse. luckily, due to the nature of the incident, the principal talks to you and lets you walk back to gym class so you can change out of your uniform and get your stuff and go get on the busses before they leave. however, you go back only to find out that all of the women gym teachers have left, locking up the locker room, until you see toji leaving the boy’s locker room and run up to him, begging him to let you inside the girl’s locker room, just so that you can change and get your stuff and go home…

gym teacher!toji who agrees, unlocking the locker room as long as you promise to be quick, before sitting and waiting in the office as you quickly go to your locker to get yourself together. 

gym teacher!toji who tries so hard not to be a pervert, and has never had such an urge before, but can’t help yet peak out the office door when you’re changing, your back to him as you strip down to your navy blue bra and light gray panties, clearly an unmatching set because you had zero intention of having anyone see you like this anyway. however, he quickly looks away when he notices you moving, turning to wait in the office for you to be done, sitting in one of his co-worker’s chairs and bouncing his leg, trying to ease the growing tent in his pants, singing random songs in his head to try and calm himself. twinkle twinkle, little star…

gym teacher!toji who jumps when you poke your head into the office, letting him know you’re done. he then watches you come into the office, fidgeting your hands, beginning to apologize again for falling him on the first day… and then hitting that boy in the face with the dodge ball again… and insists that he’s the first teacher to ever seem to not like her, but that she is going to work on it.

gym teacher!toji who, somehow, ended up with a pretty eighteen year old girl on her knees between his legs, his throbbing cock buried deep in her throat no more than a few minutes later, to try and earn his approval. gym teacher!toji who rakes his fingers through your hair, brushing your hair out of her face, before pushing your head down lower, letting his cock hit the back of your throat as he praises you, insisting you’re his favorite student and he’s so proud of you!

gym teacher!toji who shows you just how much he likes you when he unloads himself in your throat, watching it dribble down your chin, and then quickly pushes you up, discarding the pants you had just put on and tossing your soaked panties behind him, revealing your cute virgin pussy that is dripping with arousal, and he’s still fucking hard, if not more now.

gym teacher!toji who coos down to you, lovingly stroking your cheek and wiping your pleasure-driven tears with his thumb as they pour down your cheeks while he pushes his massive cock inside your virgin pussy, taking his time and being slow as he stretches you out because his favorite student earned it. gym teacher!toji who shoves his fingers in your mouth to muffle your cries when he speeds up, your gushy and gummy pussy squeezing the everloving life out of his swollen cock as it pummels in and out of you, a puddle of your fluids dripping onto the desk beneath you. 

gym teacher!toji who pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wraps them around your throat, the sound of skin slapping filling the girls locker room office as his tip begins to hit right against your cervix, which is kissing and slobbering all over him as you start to babble as you hit your nth orgasm, the orgasms flooding and flooding your brain and the desk each time, this man with so much experience causing you to see stars as he kisses away your tears and insists he’s liked you since the moment he laid his eyes on you, and he was so proud of you today, calling you a good girl over and over and over again and praising you before he finally blows his load inside of you, his sticky cum flooding your overstimulated walls as you cum again and milk his cock completely dry.

gym teacher!toji who slowly pulls out of you, seeing his cum dribbling out of your tiny, abused, red hole and onto his co-worker’s desk, scooping the mess with his fingers and plunging them in your mouth, telling you to taste how much he likes you.

gym teacher!toji who helps you get dressed and sneaks you out of the gym locker room, before driving you home in his car discreetly because you way missed the bus, dropping you off at your house- thank god your parents aren’t home- but not without kissing you goodbye first and giving you his phone number before pressing his finger to his lips and whispering out a soft shhhhh and then slipping out the door.

gym teacher!toji who watches you more than ever the following day as you move around the gym class, clearly struggling to walk due to your sore legs because of how hard you got fucked yesterday, before standing a little closer to you than normal when he finally insists you sit out, and he won’t take points, because… he’ll just punish you later in his own special way.

—————

masterlist! not proofread. please do not copy, steal, repost, and/or translate. copyright protected by blitziwitchwrites.

[half-dead-writer]

Hello! Could you do a masc (gn is okay too!) reader with Boom Shadow where reader is a minimum wage worker (probably works at meh burger or some cheap store) and Shadow falls head over heels for him? Straight up love at first sight. Like it's completely one-sided and he's really embarassed about having a crush on some random guy (of all people lmao) but he tries his best to befriend him. It's based on a trope i have with my OC and i thought it'd be fun to see how someone else would interpret the dynamic! (If possible, maybe Shadow successfully asks him out on a date at the end?)

Author's Note

ty for that fun request!! :3 I had a masc reader in mind for this one but once again I couldn't fit the masc mention anywhere so it kinda turned out gender neutral lol idk if I made him too dramatic but I hope you enjoy it anyway! i don't really know how to call this format, it's like a fanfic but also loosely written, like in headcanon form oh well, whatever, it exists

Favorite Employee

Shadow keeps coming back to Meh Burger, but not because of the food.

character: Shadow The Hedgehog (Sonic Boom) words: 2,386 reader: gender-neutral (intended to be masc) warnings: none, I think?? slightly suggestive at the end but nothing bad

How did that happen?

Shadow would've never indulged in his craving for a burger if he knew what the day would bring.

But today, the ultimate life form entertained his stomach's demands, chaos controlling himself right in front of the cursed place.

He knew the citizens well, at least from afar. So the moment be laid your eyes on you he knew you were a new face. He hardly cared for newcomers, but something about you, your clothes, your attitude, seemed to draw him in.

Of course, he ignored the feeling at first, placing confident strides towards the counter.

His sharp voice cut through the silence. "One burger."

Whatever your response was, be it dull like the rest of the place, kind, or even shy, the mere sound of your voice as you handed him the bag with a burger inside, telling him the amount of money he owed, felt like a gut punch to his entire being. On the outside, his face remained hardened, but the frown he usually wore started to show a different emotion. Surprise? Confusion?

He grabbed the bag after paying for it, and then disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The cave did nothing to calm down his beating heart, his eyes hardly focusing on the glowing markings adorning the walls.

Why was this happening?

The hedgehog looked at the bag in his hand, fingers clutching the paper so tightly it caused creases to appear on it.

Even run-ins with the blue hedgehog didn't leave him so... exhausted? Like he was on the verge of falling down.

That stupid face of yours was etched into his brain, worming it's way into his thoughts.

It was all stupid.

He felt... anger.

Initially, he thought it was directed at you.

But the deeper he dug, he realized the anger was stemming from seeing himself as weak.

How could he react like that to a random Meh Burger employee?

It was embarrassing. And he couldn't even figure out why.

Struggling to confront his emotions, he carefully unwrapped the packaged item. The presence of the object reminding him of events that transpired moments ago.

He wasn't even hungry anymore.

Safe to say, you started to notice his face in the crowd more often. Always the same order, at the same time.

Shadow was not known for his predictable behavior, but from experience, you could swear he'd always be there to get his food on time. You always made sure to prepare the bag a few minutes before his arrival, starting to notice the approval in his poker face as he received the item. You had no idea about the sickening butterflies appearing in his stomach each time his hand brushed against yours as you passed him his order.

Every meeting of yours was simple. Shadow appeared to get the order. Took the goods. Then teleported back. No conversation exchanged besides except for the transaction.

Until the one time you got to work late and the first thing you saw after arriving there, was the ebony hedgehog, arguing with your coworker, Dave.

"This one is insufficient." His piercing gaze bore onto the burger as if trying to make it disappear. Some poor excuse of sustenance, not even served by you. "Where's (Y/N)?" He knew your name by heart now, catching a glimpse of it on your name tag.

"Sir, we ensure you all burgers are of the same quality. Fresh from the freezer." Dave explained, dead eyes staring back at the clearly annoyed customer.

"Not what I asked, fool." His sight narrowed, already impatient with this fruitless conversation.

Another lavender shirt with yellow leaf-markings came into his view, this time not as infuriating. You.

He felt the need to flinch but stood his ground, not moving a muscle as you approached closer.

Obviously confused, you asked about the commotion.

Shadow remained silent, glaring at Dave. He didn't have to explain himself.

"This guy asked about you." He shamelessly pointed at the hedgehog. "I'm taking my break." And then he was gone.

Your eyes met with his in a silent question.

Shadow wanted to speak, but no words were coming out. Why did he feel like was not the one in control of the situation?

It was hard for him not to sound like a fool when the reason for his annoyance was him not seeing you.

"I didn't like his attitude." He mumbled an explanation. It was close enough.

Seeing the smile appear on your face after was worth it.

It was official. You were a better employee than Dave. Which of course, wasn't a surprise, but it still fed your ego a bit.

You took the bag left by Dave, passing it over the counter.

Shadow almost hesitated to grab it, his brain flooded with several thought processes. Should he add something else?

The hedgehog slowly took the object out of your hand, fingers lightly brushing over your own. The contact was the final push for him to spill out the words.

"What time do you leave work?" His question sounded more intimidating than he planned to, the rushed rumble in his voice coming out almost like a growl.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. Then quickly recovered, reminding yourself he waited for an answer. Looking at the time, you responded truthfully, be it curiosity, genuine fear or lack thereof.

Without breaking the eye contact, he asked, or more so commanded you to arrive at the destination and time chosen by him.

Without even waiting for your response, the last words you heard before him disappearing were "Don't be late."

And just like that, he was gone. Leaving you with... possibly a life or death situation. You really weren't sure whether the guy was asking you to hang out, or planned to murder you where no one could find your body. As a newcomer, you didn't know much about Shadow, but from the passing conversation, you knew he was not a creature to mess with. Why would he out of all people invite you to a hang-out? That question haunted your mind for the rest of the shift, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't interested. You had to know what was the hedgehog's deal, even if it killed you. Possibly, he wouldn't. By a stretch, you were his favorite employee, after all.

Shadow did not need to hear your response. He teleported somewhere calm where he could gather his thoughts. He didn't think he was able to hear the rejection coming from your mouth.

If you didn't accept his offer, you wouldn't show. All that was left to do was to wait for the time of the meeting.

Panic was not something he experienced often. Even fighting with the toughest foes was not as stressful as talking about his feelings. But at this moment, the place inbetween waiting for you to leave work and the meeting, Shadow couldn't escape the churning in his stomach. The dread reaching up his spine as he thought of his next course of action.

Shadow did not have a plan yet, but one thing was clear. He wanted you to stop invading his brain and making him feel distracted, weak. Wanted you to give him the attention he deserved. Wanted you.

Multiple scenarios played in his head, wanting to be prepared for every possibility. You running away, rejection, at worst, maybe laughter. None of them were positive, but he had to make sure he'd be able to accept the outcome, no matter the response.

He was rehearsing what to say in his mind. Wondering if he looks presentable. Checking the time over and over (he was not gonna be late). Picking where to stand so the lighting makes him look cooler, even if he wouldn't admit to that part. Everything had to be on his terms if he was gonna lower himself to be... vulnerable.

The time passed quicker than he'd like. He was already at the place, watching from afar, noting any movement that his eyes could catch. And alas, he had noticed your silhouette, approaching the meetup spot at the agreed on time.

He teleported behind you, earning a startled yelp that made a subtle smirk appear on his face for a moment.

“You’re late.”

You weren’t. It was just his way of managing the emotions threatening to rise to the surface.

Opening your mouth to respond, Shadow beat you to it and spoke first. He didn't wanna waste any time.

“Why did you smile?” His tone was flat, but the question held weight. “Earlier. When I said I didn’t like his attitude.”

He didn't know how else to ask "Do you like me?" without saying it out loud. He had to get some information before proceeding with the heavier stuff.

You hesitated for a second. Did he really have to get you out here just to ask that question? You decided to tell the truth.

“Well… it was nice to be appreciated.”

That caught him off guard.

His eyes widened slightly, just enough to be noticeable. His posture tensed, but not out of anger.

You gave a small shrug, trying to play it off, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you. “Nobody really notices when you do your job right. You noticed.”

He spoke after a second of suffocating silence. “That wasn’t the intention.”

You gave him a wry look. “You almost started a fight over a burger. Kinda seemed like it?"

His eyes narrowed, something in his expression shifting. His angry defensiveness was still there, but something else also shined through his attitude. Almost like he was... flustered.

“It wasn’t about the burger.” He grumbled, his voice keeping it's harshness. The questions were too much to bear.

“Then what was it about?” You couldn't stop the question from escaping your lips.

He looked away. Not down, but to the side, like your gaze was too much to handle. You could see the war behind his eyes. He wanted to retreat, teleport out, pretend this never happened. But he couldn't. His pride wouldn't let him.

“It wasn’t about the food. It was about you not being there.” The stiffness showed in the words that came out. Clearly, he wasn't used to spilling his thoughts like that.

You didn't know how to respond. Seeing your surprised and mildly confused expression, Shadow decided to continue.

"It shouldn't matter. Your absence should not distract me. And yet," he sighed bitterly, disappointed, more so at himself. "I can't get you out of my head."

His eyes returned to meet with yours with intimidating intensity. He took a step closer. "It's pissing me off."

You almost held your breath as the hedgehog approached, quiet yet heavy steps heading your way.

He stopped just a foot away from you. The silence between you both felt too loud, the lack of any response from him only adding to the rising tension in the air.

You swallowed, trying to make sense of the situation. “So… you like me, and that’s the problem?”

Shadow's cheeks get warmer, not used to such intimate matters in regards to him. It was uncomfortable.

“I don’t like you,” he snapped quickly, like a knee-jerk reflex. Then paused. A realization. “…I mean- I don’t just like you.” He mumbled the last sentence.

“I don’t know what this is. I don’t even know what I want from you,” he kept talking, not because he wanted to, but because now that the dam got broken, he couldn't stop. “I don’t even know why it’s you. But I can't keep pretending like it doesn’t affect me.”

Your silence stretched too long due to pure astonishment, hearing the raw sincerity in the hedgehog's words, and the hope for him to say something else

Shadow just stood there. His eyes searched your face, scanning for some sign, anything, that'd show him you weren’t about to laugh, dismiss, or worse, pity him.

But in that long several seconds, you were still quiet. Shadow was not satisfied with your "um"s and "uhh"s as you looked for a response that'd convey your opinion clearly.

His patience ran out prematurely and he took a single step back. Jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides, and voice filled with furious apprehension, barely keeping his cool.

“I didn’t say all that for nothing. You heard me. Now you deal with it.”

There was no warmth in his tone. Only a brittle edge, barely holding together the storm beneath it. He wasn’t angry at you. He was bracing himself. His harsh words were a desperate plea for you to do something.

Any hint of you reciprocating, be it approaching closer, a soft smile, physical touch or telling him about your feelings would give him the push he needed.

He'd close the leftover distance between you two, gaze locked into your eyes, your face, your lips. As if in disbelief. Adrenaline coursing through him like he was in the middle of a battle. Now that his emotions were fully on display, he had a hard time stopping them. The need to make you his. To express it.

He leaned in even closer. There was no doubt what the motion meant. He was about to kiss you, yet still gave you time to reject his advances, almost like a challenge.

When you didn't pull away, his lips finally pressed into yours.

The relief was immense, pulling his emotions out like a magnet to the surface. The kiss wasn't aggressive, but it was filled with restrained desire to devour you, now that he finally won.

Alternative take: if you'd be bold enough to kiss him first as your response (or showed obvious eagerness after he kissed you first)

One moment he was staring at your pretty face, next he felt the pressure on his lips.

It took him by a surprise, making him lose his cool for a second.

But as you showed him the extend of your approval, he quickly recovered, palms clinging to your sides, pulling you even closer.

Depending on your input, the kiss could get way more heated. You got this boy in the bag. Or vice versa.

As you parted ways, Shadow's expression was less guarded. He wore a satisfied smirk that went well with the gleam in his eye.

You were officially his.

[mochis-cream]

11:34 — song mingi ♡

・ sometimes you wonder what life decisions you’ve made that wound you up by this clowns side, but then again, you wouldn’t trade him for the world

s.mg x gn!reader ・ ateez ・ 에이티즈 ・ sfw ・ non!idol au ・ wc: exactly 600 ・ genre -> fluff, slice of life, slapstick ・ one shot! -> masterlist!

content warning: established relationship, collective sillies, mingi minging, princess mingi realness, cursing, lowercase intended, not proofread

author’s note: guys idk what happened!! one minute i was asleep and then the next i was awake at 3 in the morning writing this 😰😰 anyways mingi mingi mingi i love mingi mmrph (*´∇｀*)

‘CAUTION! DO NOT TOUCH!!’

you were certain that was the warning you gave. you were positive, actually, because you're looking at those words right now, written in your handwriting on a sticky note attached to a prank canister. the same prank canister that currently lies in the doorway, open at your feet, several feet away from the only other person in the room who could've opened it. the same person who currently lies on the floor, covered in confetti and fallen cereal, staring up at you like a deer caught in headlights.

"uh- princess? okay, what the fuck. what happened?" you ask, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. the sight is both tragic and fucking hilarious: mingi, wide-eyed and looking like he’s just survived a cartoonish explosion, is splayed out in a sea of brightly colored paper and cheerios.

mingi looks up at you, still processing the events that led to his current predicament. “i... uh... think i touched something i shouldn’t have,” he says, his voice a mix of embarrassment and lingering shock.

you take a moment to survey the room. the open prank canister lies a few feet away, likely flung from mingi's hands during his moment of panic. “and by that you mean the thing that said ‘caution! do not touch!’ in big, bold letters? the thing with the warning written in my handwriting?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he nods sheepishly. “uh yeah, that seems to be the case.”

you can't help it. the laughter bubbles up from deep inside you, and soon you're doubled over, clutching your stomach as you laugh uncontrollably. mingi watches you with a mix of amusement and annoyance, still covered in confetti and cereal, looking like the world's saddest party favor. a tried and true damsel in distress.

finally, you catch your breath and kneel down beside him. “my, princess, you really outdid yourself this time,” you say, wiping a tear from your eye. you start picking confetti out of his hair, still chuckling.

mingi huffs, sitting up and trying to shake off some of the cereal clinging to his clothes. “it’s not funny,” he mutters, but as much as he might complain, the corners of his mouth twitching upward speaks for itself.

“ah, yeah, you’re right. it’s absolutely hilarious,” you counter, pulling him to his feet. “why on earth would you touch something that i explicitly wrote ‘do not touch’ on?”

mingi shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “i dunno.”

you shake your head, still grinning. “there’s never a dull moment with you, is there?”

as you both start cleaning up the mess, you can't help but think about how your life with mingi has always been this way, full of surprises left and right. sure, not every surprise is a good one, but such is life. both of you have your own things to work out, and thing are never always perfect, but you wouldn’t trade this relationship for the world. besides, who else would provide such endless entertainment?

it’s funny really, how two completely different people can come to live and share their lives, and in the end create something beautiful despite the messes they make along the way.

as you scoop up handfuls of cereal and confetti, you glance over at mingi, who's trying (and failing) to stuff the prank canister back together, and it finally clicks. a thought that’ll stay with you until the day you die, ‘yeah, this is the goof i’m staying with for the rest of my life.’

truely, you couldn’t possibly be any happier. lucky you, huh?

[hybridirl]

missed you.

18+ only, please!

abby x f!reader

minor(?) spoiler in author note

a/n: hello everypony! i’m star!!! SO IM ALMOST (i am done as of 1/22/24. started this fanfic b4 this quick note) DONE WITH THE LAST OF US 2 AND GOOODD FUUUCKKKKK!ING DAAAMMIIITTTT!!! abby so obviously has comphet idk WHY THE FUCK she slept with owen. that scene was CRAZY but we did in fact get boob shot so i am kind of satisfied. not only that RIGHT WHEN HE STARTED GOING AT IT MY FUCKING DAD WALKED IN?? i literally JAMMED my thumb against the pause button i thought i broke the goddamn controller. me and my cousin were shocked (she was watching me play). but i, of course, am the master of hiding such things so it was easy. thank FUCK the pause screen goes dark because oh my god it was so obvious.

brief summary: your girlfriend, abby, is back from a mission and you show her just how much you missed her.

tw / kinda fluffy, pet names, use of y/n (maybe idk), cunnilingus (a receiving), slight head crushing, scissoring, established relationship w abby

intentional lowercase. not proofread, probably won’t ever be proofread.

✭・.・ ✫・゜・

“abby!” you waved her over and watched as the muscular woman made her way to you. you were sat at the lunch hall, at your own little table everyone called practically yours.

“baby,” she greeted with that warm smile she tends to put on for you. it was exciting. you hadn’t seen abby in days and now she’s finally back from her mission. she wrapped her arm around you tight as she plopped into the space next to you.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t come,” you whispered into abby’s neck while leaning into her. “isaac is so mean to me.” abby chuckled and rubbed your shoulder with a large hand.

“all good.” she squeezed you closer, smooshing your smaller frame against her side. you wrapped an arm around her and buried yourself into her to feel her closeness. “missed you, sweetpea.” her voice tickled your scalp; a hum full of content left your throat in response while your nose nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“missed you, too, abby,” you sighed in a hushed tone, your fingers coiling around hers. you looked up at her, your eyelids finding themselves fluttering at her loving gaze. you spoke, “wanna show you how much,” and you watched as corner of her mouth twitched up; she eyed you with almost-amused eyes.

it was routine: long mission, come home, make love. this was just part of the process.

“oh, yeah?” she started, “and how are you gonna do that?” she teased you slightly, but her eyes showed her knowing. you huffed a little at this coy act and got up, pulling her along with you.

you guided her across the way, hurriedly traversing hallways and rooms and trying to dodge the kiddos and finally! your room. manny had gotten used to your routine, so he intended to stay away from the room as much as possible for that day — or maybe the next few.

you pushed into the large room, the muscular woman following in suit. she shut the door, locked it, the usual.

“alright, baby,” she purred and picked you up, but your hand slapped lightly against her shoulder.

“put me down,” you huffed, “said i wanna show you. not you show me.” abby smirked that smirk and put you down. your arms wrapped around her neck, a small pout playing at your lips.

“a—h, i see,” abby replied with a hand to run down your side. it stopped at your hip, squeezing the flesh that rested there. “gonna worship me t’night, sweetpea?” she let out a little chuckle before stepping away from you and down the small steps, finding her bed. she nodded her head to you, practically beckoning you over. it’s the best you’re gonna get — abby doesn’t beg.

you followed the quiet order, doing what you do best for her. you didn’t kneel yet, but you did bend over to find the button of her jeans.

“off,” you muttered while your fingers fumbled with the easy task. she pushed a hand away, allowing herself to tug her jeans and boxers off. what it revealed to you always froze you for just a second: her vulva. it was trimmed, blonde, and her pubic hair was straight. you looked up at her as if asking for permission, which she of course gave by sinking deeper into the bed, her hips nudging toward you.

you gently pushed her shoulders down before finally kneeling at the bed, appreciating the beauty that was emanating such heat.

it was slightly pinker, and it glistened with desire. her outer labia was slightly puffy; you allowed your index and middle finger to gently spread it, showing her clenching hole to your hungry eyes. her clit was already protruding from its hood, hard and throbbing for friction.

your eyes flickered to hers for just a second before your mouth opened, your tongue slipping out and dipping just slightly into her wet darkness before guiding itself up right to the raw of her clit. her hips rolled in response and she thoroughly adjusted her body, her hands pulling against the back of your head.

the soft, low moans she made always did it for you. it was the encouragement you didn’t know you needed until it happened. it was almost angelic.

your lips enveloped the small bud, gently sucking it while your tongue flicked against the top of her clit.

“f—uck,” she moaned deeply, pulling your head closer to her drooling cunt. your arms wrapped on the underside of her thighs, folding and stopping at the top of her thighs. your hands continued to spread your legs whilst they desperately tried shutting. “keep working that damn tongue.” upon that request, your tongue swirled across her clit, up down left right and over and under and oh, my. those moans. whimpers and whines left her throat, unable to vocalize anything more.

“abby,” you sighed into her heat and let your tongue slurp up her desire. “y’taste so good.” you kissed at her clit, then moved down, slipping your tongue into her while your nose bumped her clit.

“keep going, baby, i’m almost there,” she moaned out whilst her hands reached toward your hair to pull you deeper. with your face smooshing against her cunt, her thighs shut tightly around your head. “yes, god, fuck…”

your mouth was relentless, even as she tipped over the edge; her clit throbbed and her vagina clenched around your tongue. you lapped it all up, of course, needing to taste her sweet n’ salty need. your hands reached up and underneath her shirt, caressing her chest and pinching at her nipples as she came; it only intensified the grip on your hair and the clenching of her thighs against your head.

your mouth dripped with slick, a sign of your hunger as she tugged your head away.

“abby,” you breathed, removing your clothes in the process. the thin string of your own slick connected you to your underwear as you tugged them down. she made way for you, scooting deeper into the bed as you climbed on. you sighed out a quick “fuck” before bringing your pussy down on hers.

“grind that pussy,” she growled deeply, her hands gripping your hips. “fuck.” her hands guided your movements, heavy and powerful rocks against each other.

“abby, please,” you groaned, your hand meeting your own breast to tweak your nipples. the other hand rested on abby’s thigh, keeping it spread for you to continue your work against her.

it hadn’t taken long for you, the sensations so powerful as your buds rubbed together. you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth until you were sure it was about to bleed, and your stomach became a knot.

“i’m about to-“ you started, but abby hushed you quickly.

“i know, baby, cum on me,” she purred out, “cum on my pussy, sweetheart, cum on my pussy.” and as if she had some control over your body, you came by her command. she followed in suit, your moans intermixing and your bodies convulsing. you leaned down to kiss her, holding her head close to yours as your lips danced and tongues tangled.

“i missed you,” you said softly to her after catching your breath, kissing her cheek and down her jaw. her large arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to her while you gently kissed at her face. with a soft smile, she returned the favor with a few kisses on your chin and the corner of your lips.

“i missed you, too.”

[gomapda]

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

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

side A found here!

author's note:

oh goodness. it's been a while.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

genre: romance, fluff

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

rating: 13+

length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)

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

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

inspo spotify playlist found here!

──────────────────

side b: him.

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

You knew. You fucking knew.

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

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

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

He ran.

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

But he couldn’t.

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

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

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

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

You were everywhere.

And he needed to get away.

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

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

If you asked him to stay, he would have.

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

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

──────────────────

Years later.

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

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

“I figured. I brought you some food.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I brought you food. I paid my toll.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.”

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

“...Lyrics.”

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

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

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

Jihoon grunted in response. Obviously.

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

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

“Do you still stalk her on Instagram?”

Jihoon let out a loud sigh.

“That’s a yes, then.”

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

“She hasn’t blocked you yet?”

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

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

“Wow. Thanks, hyung.”

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

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

“She attracts people, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she always has.”

“Can I see her profile again?”

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

“Ey, Jihoon-ah.”

“That makes me really not want to.”

“Ey.”

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

“Oh, is that Japan?”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon clicked on your post.

But it wasn’t opening.

So, he clicked again. And then again.

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

The once white heart was now red.

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

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

“Hyung. Hyung. What should I do?”

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

“How do you know?”

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

“...”

“Uh. I’ll just… do it for you, then.”

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

“Jihoon-ah.”

“Hyung.”

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

“...Okay.”

──────────────────

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

“Jihoonie.”

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

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

“Just thinking.”

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

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

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

“You work miracles, Y/N.”

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

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

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

Did you even know how much your words affected him?

“You’re neither selfish nor a lady.”

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

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

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

Jihoon snorted. “Of what?”

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

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

He might as well use your promise to his advantage.

──────────────────

“She didn’t block me.”

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

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

“You know. His firefly,” Jeonghan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He even ignored the boys’ laughter around him.

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

“Seungkwan-ah.”

“Sorry, Jeonghan-hyung.”

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

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

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

“WHAT DO I DO.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jihoon nodded almost mindlessly.

Everything about her usually is.

──────────────────

“Jihoonie~ Wake up~”

He groaned loudly under the bed covers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh. You might be right there.”

“Get! Off!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is a buggy better than a furry?”

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

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

“Okay! I’ll go help Mama downstairs.”

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

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

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

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

You scurried out of his room before he could respond.

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

Forget summertime.

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

But he ought to thank the summertime.

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

Yeah.

He needed the summertime.

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

The accused groaned.

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

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

“You romanticist.”

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

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

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

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

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

They all collectively raised a brow.

“Whattaya mean?” Seungcheol asked.

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

A heavy silence passed over the group.

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

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

“Hoon, you wound me.”

──────────────────

Award shows were weird.

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

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

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

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

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

He merely rolled his eyes and called you dramatic.

That is, until he experienced it firsthand.

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

Then he felt it: that driving force.

You both pushed yourselves further, to higher heights.

And it ended with him sick and bedridden.

And you, heartbroken and unsure of life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He thought back to his trainee days.

To his current days.

How similar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Award shows were weird.

It was all about performance.

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

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

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

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

It was why he’s in this industry.

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

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

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

──────────────────

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

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

“How’s the song coming along?”

“The album is nearly complete—”

“No, the solo one.”

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

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

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

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

“…that’s not true.”

“What? Which one?”

“The first song I ever wrote.”

“Oh what? What was it?”

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

“…huh. What was it about?”

──────────────────

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

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

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

That is, unless you needed him to.

And he always gave you what you needed.

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

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

“She sounds terrifying.”

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

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

He imagined you meeting them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that's when he knew.

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

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

“Here, firefly.”

You caught it by instinct.

Your gaze met his.

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

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

“Why are you giving me this?”

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

But he wouldn’t do that.

Because that would be embarrassing.

(That was a future Jihoon problem.)

“It’s your win today.”

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

“Huh?”

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

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

You sniffled.

A soft smile formed on your lips.

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

Pretty.

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

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

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

(Not that you reached out.)

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

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

It’s your win?

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

You did win his heart, after all.

(He threw his pillow at the wall.)

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s more than that.”

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

“I never asked you to do that.”

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

“Okay, bro.”

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

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

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

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

“So close-minded, Hoon.”

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

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

“Thanks for the play-by-play.”

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

But it’s for a good cause!

But he might be trespassing on her territory.

Everyone cares about youth and kids!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off, Kwon Soonyoung.”

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he was right.

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

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

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

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

He was able to find it outside of you.

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

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

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

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

Jihoon snorted at the serendipity of it all.

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

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

So, here he was. Simply being.

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

Otherwise, the nagging guilt would get to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only catching you was as simple, he mused.

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

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

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

──────────────────

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

“Who said I’d ever miss you?”

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

“…You’re dumb.”

“Yes. Can I have some of your fries?”

──────────────────

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

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

Your fifteenth year started off with that charm bracelet.

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

He paused.

Did he know that though?

Or did he just assume?

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

Communication was easy in theory.

Application, however.

He often found it difficult, matching your pace.

You were always so quick.

Quick-witted. 

Quick to anger.

Quick to assume.

Quick to run away.

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

Ah, he was right.

“Woozingi~”

“Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

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

This had Jihoon propping himself upright. “Barbecue?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Maybe so!”

──────────────────

“Our Jihoonie~”

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

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

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

“What a tough Busan guy,” Jeonghan teased.

Jihoon’s face twitched.

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

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

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

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

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

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ay. What is there to complain about?”

Jihoon gave his hyung a pointed look.

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

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

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

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

“So, she must be eloquent then.”

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

──────────────────

“You like unnie, don’t you?”

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

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

Jihoon sank back.

Family? Brother?

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

So why the hell did that piss him off?

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

You sneered at him.

God, you were so infuriating sometimes. 

She wasn’t like that.

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

She was beautiful.

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

What the hell was wrong with you?

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

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

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

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

You were a volatile thing, explosive, even.

But.

You fizzled out just as fast.

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

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

“Okay.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for being friends with me anyway.”

“Sure.”

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

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

He never once called you his family.

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

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a useless messenger.”

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

“…Me too, hyung.”

──────────────────

“How much is the corn dog?”

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

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

“It’s my shop!”

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

“Hyung, her idea is dumb!”

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

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

Stories didn’t matter.

Money mattered.

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, he asked you why.

Why stories?

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

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

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

──────────────────

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

“Hey, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“Can I borrow your microphone for the day?”

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

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.

“Is… Is this a hidden-camera?”

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

“It’s blue, by the way.”

“I don’t care—”

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

“Okay, Dokyeom-ssi. Get out.”

“Yes, hyung. Thank you.”

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

But he wasn’t you.

You were the inspiration; the muse.

You were the reason to write.

He was just a storyteller.

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’ve grown so much.

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

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

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

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

(Not even you.)

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

He was a selfish human being.

He hoped you would be one too.

──────────────────

May 26th.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there you were.

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

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

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

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

His brain short-circuited.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

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

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

sorry that was dumb of me to assume

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

What the hell, dude.

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

You’ve literally never done that.

He tried to calm his heart.

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

sorry that was stupid

ignore me

congrats y/n

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

“Yah, Jihoon-ah.”

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

Ah, it would be him.

“What did she do?”

──────────────────

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

But that wasn’t (entirely) true.

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She made her choice, Jihoon.”

“This is all my fault.”

“How?”

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

“Jihoon–”

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

“Dude! Shut the fuck up, will you?”

Jihoon sat there in stunned silence.

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

“Don’t fucking call her that–”

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

But one mention of you and suddenly he would spiral.

Who the hell did you think you were?

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

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

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

“I just–”

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

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

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

“...Okay.”

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

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

Painfully so.

──────────────────

“I just–”

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

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

“Jihoon-ah.”

“...Soonyoung-ah.”

“She’s human, right?”

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

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

──────────────────

“Why’d you reject the guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What, that people don’t know you?”

“No. That people assume they know me.”

Jihoon paused for a moment.

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

“Well, one of those things is true.”

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

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

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

──────────────────

Jihoon nearly bit his tongue.

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

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

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

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

“You can unsend messages?”

“Uh–”

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

But he hesitated.

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

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

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

“No thanks.”

“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”

──────────────────

Almost exactly sixty minutes later, Jihoon witnessed a miracle.

“...She replied.”

Seungkwan glanced up at Jihoon. “Who?”

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

“Yeah, like an hour ago. Keep up.”

“Hyung, you didn’t tell me–”

“Ah, Boo Seungkwan.”

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

Oh shit, wait. You knew SEVENTEEN?

And he portrayed that sentiment exactly when messaging you.

(With some typing errors.)

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

(His alcohol tolerance was nonexistent.)

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

He snorted at that, of course you would.

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

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

“Woozi Woozi~?”

“Can you do something for me?”

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

“YAH.”

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

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

“WOW! I like her already.”

“Hyung.”

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

“Just a video to congratulate her.”

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

“Hyung, please.”

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

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

That felt dangerous.

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

But.

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

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

But what if you leave again?

He cannot mess this up. He can’t.

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

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

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

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

──────────────────

Yes. Yes, it was.

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

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

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

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

Stupid.

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

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

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

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

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, get better lung capacity.”

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

“No thanks.”

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

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

No. You definitely were.

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

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

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

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

But, no.

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

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

Yeah, he’d much rather see this instead.

──────────────────

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

Our past that didn’t line up,

If I could go back in time,

Rather than roughly, but warmly,

Would I be able to let you go?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He groaned loudly.

Emotional labor is hard.

How is this something you enjoy doing?

──────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Irritation washed over Jihoon. 

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

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

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

Luckily, the teacher, not being a prick himself, called out Nahyun and pulled her aside after class to apologize to you. (Jihoon would’ve preferred a public execution apology.)

Jihoon stood just a few feet away as you accepted her half-assed effort. You paused for a moment and muttered something to her, something that only she could hear. Nahyun merely pursed her lips afterwards before walking away. Irritation rushed through him again.

“Seriously, though. You’re too soft, firefly.”

“Hm. I don’t think so.”

“No?”

“No. I just think everyone else is too hard on themselves. And each other.”

“...You’re gonna be a great therapist.”

“Thanks. Hire me.”

──────────────────

Jihoon had his own fair share of meetings with professional counselors (especially in the midst of living such a hectic life as an idol), but he was worried whether you would be as cut and dry as they were, whittled down by years of academia. It seemed almost like they were reading out of a textbook, using vocabulary words like ‘empathy’ and ‘self-care,’ so he never saw it fit to return if it wasn’t necessary.

However, the places you’ve poured your time into left only glowing reviews for your passion and compassion for the field that you were in.

Jihoon was roused from his thoughts at his phone ringing on his desk. He looked at the Caller ID and saw a name he has been in and out of contact with for over a decade, it was your cousin. He picked it up. “Yo, hyung. What’s up?”

“Are you busy right now, Jihoon?”

“No. It’s a slower day today. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Seoul in a few weeks. Your noona and I are planning on celebrating saying goodbye to our single days by drinking way too much within the span of 12 or so hours. I wanted to see if you were down to join.”

“I probably won’t drink, but if it’s for you, hyung, I’ll go.”

“Nice. And you can feel free to leave after the dinner, we’ll just be at an apartment we’re renting out in Gangnam, since I don’t trust those fools to walk around the streets of Hongdae.”

“I’ll probably do that, I don't want to accidentally be caught by Dispatch.”

“Right, right. We wouldn’t want to sully the name of the best producer in all of K-Pop.”

“That’s a title I don’t think I’ll ever get.”

Your cousin laughed. “You never know, you might get that award sooner than you think, kiddo. Alright, I’ll keep you updated on our schedule. But uh…”

Jihoon knew his hyung well. He was about to bring you up again. “What about her?”

“I just wanted to ask whether you’d be interested in a meet-up with her. Not that we’ve asked her or anything, but I know we’ll probably meet up with her at some point, and I know it’ll feel weird if we’re not all together, you know? The four of us.”

“Yeah… I want to say that I’m courteous enough to wait for her response, but I just know that I’m willing to meet with her, if anything. Even just one last time.”

“That… sounds kinda sad, but. I guess I’ll take it. If you’re down, we could even make it a surprise on her end.”

He imagined your deer in headlights look but couldn’t think further than that. “Sounds like we’d really be putting her on the spot, if that was the case.”

“Hey, she’s rarely played it safe. Same with you. Might as well keep the flow going. And if anything, I’ll take the brunt of it all. She can’t stay mad at me for too long.”

“We both know that’s literally not true.”

“Okay, fine. Your noona can take the blame.”

“Wow, very excited to see how this marriage will go.”

His hyung laughed. “Amazingly, I’m sure.”

A thought occurred to Jihoon and he realized it was strange that he was mentioning it as an afterthought, as if it was something to be expected, something natural and normal. “Oh, hyung. By the way, I’m talking to Y/N again.”

Jihoon heard the undeniable ‘beep beep beep’ of being hung up and he stared confused at his phone screen until he saw another phone call from your cousin. He picked up with a, “Hello?”

Your cousin sounded much more flustered than he did just seconds ago. “Sorry. I hung up because I dropped my phone by accident. Say that again. You’re what?”

“I’m talking to her again. Kind of. I guess. Like, Instagram DMing went to KakaoTalk.”

“Jesus Christ, you slid into her DMs?”

“Can you not say it like that?”

“Can you say that that didn’t happen?”

Jihoon relayed the entire experience to him, only now realizing he didn’t even share all of the details with his members because it would’ve been too much teasing fodder from them. But your cousin, his hyung, was the kind of fellow that wouldn’t do that, even given the opportunity.

──────────────────

“Hyung,” Jihoon started one day, across from said person in a local Busan restaurant. “I don’t get how you’re single.”

“Why, you wanna date me?”

Jihoon’s eye twitched and your cousin laughed. Jihoon bit on his straw, the family style meal between the two young men long since devoured. “People compare us, you know.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s there to compare?”

“I don’t know. So many people around us know how cool you are. You’re good at sports, you’re smart, you have a lot of friends, you’re handsome. Everyone always says you’re one of the best listeners they’ve ever met.”

“The trick is to not pay attention sometimes and just nod.”

“I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that.”

“I’m sure she knows,” he laughed. “Well, I'm honored that you think all of those things, but those are all traits you have too. You do realize that, right?”

Jihoon grunted. “Not… really.”

“Well, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean others don’t. My cousin definitely does. She’s a good kid and has a good heart. Same with you. If you ever decide to do anything about those feelings of yours, just know that I approve.”

Jihoon nearly choked on his drink. “Wh–?”

“Oh, it was a secret?”

“Hyung!”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything to her, don’t worry. And if you ask me, I’d say that you’re the only one on this planet that even has a chance. Well, except that girl from the cake shop.”

Jihoon sneered.

Fucking Woo Soyeon.

With her shiny hair and long eyelashes and doe eyes and tanned skin from her beach volleyball playing.

Giving out discounts to you like nobody’s business. Calling you cute and flirting nonstop while twirling a lock of her hair. Saying you’re her favorite customer. He could swear Woo Soyeon would throw a knowing smirk at him every time you stuttered a little too long when saying thank you.

That damned girl behind the counter, the one whose beauty and voice (“It’s just so velvety, you know? Like the chocolate cherry cakes.”) he knew you were smitten by.

She was even taller than him, especially in her heels.

At the ripe age of 15, Jihoon understood what jealousy was.

Because of fucking Woo Soyeon.

“Watch out, Jihoon. I can hear your thoughts all the way from over here.”

“Sorry.”

Your cousin laughed. “Trust me, you mean a lot more to her than cake counter girl. My cousin wanted all of us to go see the Christmas lights in the city together. You don’t see her inviting that cake counter girl, do you?”

Jihoon felt a weird sense of pride well up in his chest. Then immediately deflated. It felt stupid to feel like he won against a person who’s just trying to sell cakes to a loyal customer. “Hyung, how do you do it? You’d never let yourself get angry or jealous over stuff like this.”

The older of the two cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You wouldn’t get jealous over a cake counter girl.”

“Says who? I get jealous. It’s normal, you know. Jealousy isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just what you do with it, right? Like, just because you’re jealous of cake counter girl, does that mean you stop Y/N from going to that shop?”

“What? Why would I do that? She loves that shop.”

“Exactly. Emotional maturity doesn’t mean you stop yourself from feeling the emotion, it just means you learn how to handle it as it comes. And once you practice it enough, it becomes easier and easier.”

“You make it sound easy, but it’s not.”

“Hey, I’m not anything big and special myself.”

Jihoon shook his head. “Hyung, you’re a superhuman.”

“No, I’m just human and letting myself be that,” he corrected. “Trust me, there’s plenty of good people out there. A lot of them just aren’t making the decision to do so. It’s easier to be cruel, but. I want to prove that you can be kind and still be a man. We get to define what that means. If I decided to be cruel, to become what society says is ‘a man,’ then I have no doubt Y/N would lose trust in me, and probably, all men.”

Jihoon noticed that his hyung stared at him for a second.

“Actually, maybe not all men.”

Jihoon felt embarrassed, but also honored, at the implication. “Thanks, hyung. You know, for not making fun of me. And for admitting that you also feel those kinds of things.”

“Absolutely, I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m seriously still surprised that you’re single.”

“Yeah, well. That might not always be the case if I can figure out what to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… you know your noona?”

──────────────────

Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the way the events unfolded. Your cousin told him about his feelings for his future wife, but it still took a few years for anything to come out of that. He wondered whether being childhood friends had anything to do with it, as if the longer and deeper the bond, the riskier the chasm was to try to jump across.

However, your cousin still managed to do it.

“How did you do it, hyung?”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Just… how did you manage to tell noona how you felt?”

The older man laughed. “You really think that it was me who confessed? No, no. It was her. I think she was tired of the back and forth that was happening between us. I mean, so was I, but I was a coward, but thankfully, she wasn’t. Now because of her saying that she loved me first, I get to be the one who says it last. Then we start again. It’s a dialogue, you see. It doesn’t matter who starts the line, as long as it continues.”

“Oh…”

“Am I proud that I was a coward? No. I sometimes wish it was me who said it first so she wouldn’t have any room for doubt. But we can’t go back and change the past, only commit to a better future. All of this to say, though, Jihoon, it’s been long enough of not saying anything between the two of you. I don’t think you want to wait any longer.”

“…yeah. I agree.”

That night, hours after preparing for the album, Jihoon’s fingers tapped away on his Notes app.

This waiting, it’s not easy to endure.

It was past 4am now.

But he didn’t want to wait any longer.

So, he switched apps and instead of a blank Note, he began typing into a message box.

i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am

A response from you was the last thing he expected, but you always managed to surprise him.

The first time he heard your voice directly in his ears, he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. But he tried to keep his voice level as he asked you about where you were leaning towards for your career.

The relief that rushed through him.

The hope that ignited in him.

That was the spark needed for him to explode.

And so he did, into words.

“I’m proud of you, you know?”

He heard your throaty stutter, one that only came out whenever you were really caught off guard. “Uh—what?”

“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea,” Jihoon still couldn’t believe the two of you went to the same school. “You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So I’m proud of you.”

He could barely hear your, “It’s not that big of a deal—” over the pounding in his ears.

“But it is, firefly.”

And suddenly he was brought back to all the years before. Where he spent more years in love with you than not. How that nickname encapsulated exactly as he saw you: inspiration, guidance, hope.

“I mean, I just—”

Your flustered response only encouraged him to continue. “You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”

“Jihoon, I—”

He didn’t realize just how much he’s missed hearing you say his name. But more than that, “I’ve missed you.”

There was a pause on your end, but he was done with his.

“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls—” which he would never admit to being the reason he never wants to get behind the wheel again. “And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly, for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle going down. That kind of stupid.”

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was naming a memory that you no doubt remember as well, it was near traumatizing. But there was something in him that didn’t want you to forget. He didn’t want himself to forget. Because…

If I forget someday, as if nothing is wrong,

Our future will be empty and sad.

It’s not that I want to forget you.

Ah, he made a mental note to switch to his Notes app later.

“I… I missed you too.”

Jihoon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his cheeks, almost to the point of straining them. It was already so late and he still had enough function in his brain to know he ought to cut this short now. Otherwise, he’d be on the phone with you for an ungodly amount of time. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”

“Okay.” Your voice sounded so small, he had to press his phone closer to his ear to ensure he didn’t miss anything.

“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”

“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”

He laughed hard at that. You would say that. “Alright, we’ll just go with firefly then.”

‘We’ felt good on his tongue.

“Night, night, Jihoonie.”

“Sleep well, firefly.”

He told you he needed to sleep, but with the way that he was running on sheer endorphins from finally releasing some of that pressure inside of him, sleep was the furthest thing on his mind. Instead, he imagined you getting some well-deserved rest, wondering what kind of dreams you hoped to have.

You were falling asleep, he was falling in love.

──────────────────

In less than 24 hours, he was going to see you in person for the first time in years, no more needing to find YouTube videos or podcasts or news articles or social media posts.

Tomorrow, he’ll be face to face with you.

And the dorm was in chaos.

“He should wear the white button down!”

“No, he should wear something funky, with cool patterns!”

“What? Absolutely not, hyung! Jihoon-hyung looks best in plain clothing, his skin shines that way!”

“Well, he’s been avoiding his skincare, so that might not be the best route to go down.”

“Hoon is handsome no matter what!”

Jihoon was exhausted. Why were his members more invested in this than he was?

Even Soonyoung was getting giddy. And that was a problem. When it came to you, Soonyoung was his voice of reason, but after he relayed the phone call he had with you, Soonyoung was easily won over by your: ‘I missed you too.’

“I knew it!” The tiger had exclaimed.

(Jihoon wasn’t sure whether he did.)

Junhui was thriving off of the chaos and was now leaping across the wooden floor, with Jeonghan quickly on his tail, trying to coerce him into stopping and failing miserably. Seokmin was still trying to convince Seungkwan that a funky pattern was like how, in nature, peacocks showed off to their mates—“he’s not a bird, hyung!”—while Soonyoung kept interjecting saying that Jihoon was attractive no matter what so he could just wear a plastic bag (which earned him a gentle slap by Seokmin). Mingyu disappeared for a moment after Wonwoo’s off-handed comment about Jihoon’s skin, only to return with his skincare products that Jihoon knew were going to be slapped on him soon enough. Seungcheol kept repeating in an exasperated tone, “Stop fighting, we already got a noise complaint this week,” while Jisoo and Minghao were probably off in Jihoon’s closet trying to establish an outfit for him without his consent. Hansol was on his phone, noise-canceling earphones on, completely uninvolved in what was going on. Chan was only goading on whoever was the loudest in the moment (currently, Junhui).

Jihoon piped up. “Do I get an opinion on this?”

In near perfect synchronization (including the boys in his room), everyone responded with a, “No!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

God, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

[continue reading here]

[impromptu-sketches]

Can we talk about how in only SEVEN CHAPTERS, Melting Point by Pibi is already WAYYYYYYYY more fun than Jinx. (Not to compare everything to Jinx right now because I'm heated, but that's exactly what I'm doing)

Jinx and Melting Point are two different stories being told.

Melting Point: past friendship/teammates reunited. One with a one-side love who intends to finally make progress with the other now that they're together again, and the other is healing from past experiences even though the person responsible for his trauma is the one in front of him.

Jinx: Because Kim Dan's life is hard and he needs money, he basically must sell his soul to Jaekyung, and Jaekyung who has this weird jinx and this somehow justifies all of his behavior.

(side note - On Jinx's official summary on Lezhin it ends with: "Could a night together be the thing to help Jaekyung break this jinx once and for all?" which is weird because I don't remember breaking his jinx coming up at all. Maybe if Jaekyung bottoms his jinx will be lifted? Lol)

Despite the differences in the stories being told, we have a similar set up of:

Famous athlete, sought after by media/brands/etc. who's kinda grumpy / 'hates everyone' vibes

The person who works for them/has a contract with them and must attend to their needs

With this same basic set up, Ian (the athlete in Melting Point) is already - in 7 chapters - WAY more likable than Jaekyung. And you may say, 'well, obviously. It's because he's a simp and already likes Eunsan' (the MC). But! Maybe it's because we see him experience ~emotions~ (unlike Jaekyung) when he's younger, or because he thinks of others and not just himself. It's just more intriguing.

Here's another example of a Jaekyung-like character who's even more like him and still is much more likable: Tae-seo from Gig of the Day.

Like Jaekyung, he 1. doesn't like Yeomin (the MC) at the beginning of the story, 2. uses him sexually, and 3. even saves him from load sharks like Jakeyung (just happened to be there). And yet, I really like Tae-seo despite this behavior. He's just likable (still want his redemption arc though).

Jaekyung is just too damn selfish to be likable right now.

And even when a character being 'likable' isn't the point or the goal of the author, ya gotta give them some redeeming qualities so people want to root for them lol. A personality, at the very least. Maybe some compelling family or friend relationships even. It's kinda crazy how all we've seen from Jaekyung has so one dimensional.

Work/fight/train. Jinx. Get angry at whoever stands in his way or annoys him. Repeat.

Another example, this time of an unlikable character: Taehwan from Banana Scandal (season 2). Taehwan was awful to Yeonwoo - and similar to Kim Dan, Yeonwoo was scared of him. I didn't like Taewan in the beginning at all! Unlike Jaekyung though, Taehwan was a well-rounded character, we got to see his family relationships (his brother from season 1) and when it came time to redeem him the author gave both us as the readers and the characters ~time~

And in that time, we got an -amazing- story with character growth for both characters, redemption arc, healing from past trauma, working on a relationship, and other healthy relationship things. ♡♡♡ This is my definition of a satisfying redemption arc.

Jinx (based on the author's note) will be about 110-120 chapters for the main story. We're on chapter 69. That's 40-50 chapters and Jaekyung is still at a 0 for me in terms of likeability AND character growth AND personality. So either he's gonna do a 180 real fast and grovel for a long time or ???

In defense of Mingwa, she did also say in her author's note:

So.... this is still just the slow burn :|

I'm secretly rooting for Jaekyung but he's making it so damn hard.

Idk if my definition of a satisfying redemption arc is the same as Mingwa's (if it's anything like BJ Alex :/ i'm not hopeful).

[toons-inkwell]

Finding "Frankie" AU. Chapter: 2

Warnings: Body horror? (Idk if you have a good imagination like me stuff like this does become horrifying in retrospect).

words: 6,411 (check first reblog for author's notes as well as Toon's design if interested).

Rain trickled down from the sky as Toon made his way out of a parking lot and into the confines of a small grocery store located on the edge of a very sketchy neighborhood. A sliding glass door opened with a ding to greet him, a loud box fan triggered and the sound of the air blasting him drew the cashier's attention. Burying his attention into the ground, he avoided anyone else like the plague and shuffled past what few prying eyes that would watch him. Cameras looked on overhead and he took a quick glance at them before completely dismissing their presence. Thankfully all but one were inactive, the only camera that was actually on was the one aimed at the checkout to ensure no employees were stealing from the register. The ones placed around the store were mere dummy props intended to deter thieves, the store didn't have the proper funds nor actual care to purchase real cameras to protect goods that would almost definitely disappear in such an impoverished area. With the only other person in the store being isles down and the cashier quickly going back to distracting themselves with their phone, Toon slid into the small cramped cereal section of the store and let his flesh disguise slip to take a breath.

Faux skin melted off into tar black ink and molded itself back in the blink of an eye. With a breath of relief Toon looked in the reflection of a puddle that had formed on the waxy grocery floor from the water dripping off his hoodie. With a grimace he pressed his glove-like hand to his snout and examined what he looked like, or at least what he felt comfortable looking like. It was weird to say the least but unlike the human disguise he wore in public the appearance of his anthropomorphic animal look was something that he didn't *totally* hate looking at. It felt like something he could safely look like and pretend to be without being horribly sick to his stomach, once again he didn't exactly like it but it did its job. Taking a further look at himself, Toon tilted his head and stared at his face to make sure he got everything right, he didn't wish to forget the only face he could stand looking back at him in a reflection.

Long rat snout: check. Fluffy spike-like fur on his cheeks: check. Black stripe running vertical across his eyes and head: check. Black triangle nose: check. Long floppy ears: check. Piecut pupils located in a conjoined eye that also acted like brow: check. It still felt like there was something missing though…

squeak

Toon jumped out of his skin as his big ears picked up the sound of a shopping cart’s wheel roll close. Thankfully jumping out of his skin was just what he wished to happen. In an instant his face shifted into his human form, what once was a weird looking rat-rabbit hybrid now went back to being a normal—if you could call his freakish appearance normal—man. Out of the corner of his eyes he spotted someone looking down the aisle at him, staring for an unknown reason. It made his heart sink and a small voice in his head tried to make him panic. The idea someone saw him without his disguise made him tremble but he did his best to not draw anymore attention himself. Trying his best to also not look like some druggie or otherwise lunatic, the disguised RatBit rubbed his chin and stared at the cereal boxes on the shelf.

“Which one to get… which one to get…” he murmured, feigning interest in the cereal.

Out of the corner of his vision he stared at some shopper who had stopped whatever they were doing and looked directly at him. Eyes bore into the side of his head and he held his breath, doing his best to give a genuine nonchalant smile only to fail miserably and look even more disturbed. Maybe shifting back into his RatBit look was a bad idea now that he was looking at it, it was probably a better idea to just keep his human disguise on until he went back home, even if it did disgust him. Besides, he did come to the grocery store with the intent to buy food after all. He admittedly didn't have much to his name, his hoodie pocket filled with a crumpled 5 dollar bill was all he had at the moment. It wasn't much but it was money he could spend and it would hopefully be enough to buy himself something to hold him over until he could get some more.

Releasing his breath, Toon stood up and no longer pretended to look at the cereal. With the presence of whoever was staring at him being dismissed, he surveyed the breakfast goods lined up on the shelf ready to take away what little he had left. Oatmeal, prepackaged pancake batter, the main allure of course being the several boxes of cereal that took up 1/3rd of the shelf towards the end. There wasn't much variety, it was a very ghetto store so stock was limited. The entire lower shelf consisted of some very bland honey coated cereal called JoyHoops which Toon passed over almost instantly. The two upper shelves were what caught his eye, more colorful boxes depicting a cartoon mascot chicken with the words “Morning Crunch” were what he was drawn to. Naturally preferring to look like an anthropomorphic animal himself he was enticed to buy the one with more childish marketing, one box specifically called out to him louder than the rest though. There sitting by its lonesome surrounded by different brands was a light blue cereal box sporting a lop-eared rabbit with a hat and magic wand.

“Frankie's Fruit Flakes…” Toon read aloud.

Toon reached out and grabbed the box, his hand brushing against the cold metal shelf making him shiver. Much to both his suprise and delight the box was strangely heavy for a cereal box. In comparison to the JoyHoops and Morning Crunch brands, the Frankie box held a tad bit more girth in both its packaging and feel. Toon picked up the other boxes just to make sure he wasn't going crazy and yup, sure enough the box holding colorful frosted fruit flavored flakes with marshmallows would probably be the best bang for his buck. He wasn't exactly a bargain shopper—he probably should have been—but he still knew buying this one would give him the best bang for his buck. Besides, he did have an odd fascination with the mascot of the cereal. His eyes sparkled seeing the friendly smile of the rabbit that had lured him in. It was just a capitalist and predatorial way to trick small kids into consuming their product, but it still worked on the disguised rodent and he began to feel a weird sense of nostalgia for a childhood he never had. Considering he was only partially a rabbit it wasn't really a vain thought to think the mascot was in some way cute, was it?

“Um excuse me?”

Toon froze up and felt his stomach tie into a knot, someone had spoken remarkably close to him. He prayed it was just someone talking to someone else but he could hear it was not only close but directed right at him. With a feeling of unease he tilted his head towards whoever this person was but suddenly felt a whole lot less anxious.

“... What the–?”

Sitting there was one entire shopping cart loaded over to the brim with boxes upon boxes of Frankie’s Fruit Flakes. The baby blue boxes were in one giant mountain, unevenly placed and all clumped together with a select few looking like they were about to fall to the side. Toon was immediately taken aback by the sheer absurdity of the sight and his mouth hung open as his eyes snapped to the man who called out to him.

“Um… can I help you?” he asked.

“Yeah I was just wondering if I could maybe have that?” The man pointed to the box Toon held in his palms “I already asked for all the boxes they had in the back and I was just coming to get what they had on the shelves so–” The man opened his palm as if expecting Toon to hand it over.

Being the nervous creature he was, he initially would have given up the cereal box just to avoid anything. Something about the box drew him in though, he didn't wish to depart with it at all. It was stupid to cause such a scene simply because he liked the mascot, but he did find it first as such he felt at least a little entitled to it. Toon swallowed a ball of spit that had built up in his throat and got ready to speak, doing his best to steel himself to reply concisely.

“...no…” Toon said as he clutched the box, pressing it close to his chest “I uhh–kinda want it? I'm hungry?”

Desperation filled the man’s eyes seeing Toon hold it. He took a step closer and reached into his pocket to retrieve a wallet which he flipped through in a panic “okay, yeah no, I get that I just REALLY need that box, I'd be willing to pay you if you let me have that, I know this may be a lot to ask it's just something I need right now”

Toon slowly crept backwards, his voice got softer and his gaze was averted back down to the floor “Um n-no, sorry I just want this?”

“Please, I'll give you a hundred dollars for it I just REALLY need it” The man took a few more steps closing the already limited amount of distance there was. Toon did his best to look away but had a handful of cash shoved in his face, the man still ever so insistent “Please– 500! 500 dollars!”

Toon let out a small squeak and covered his mouth. He had nowhere else to go and he found his back pressed against one of the cold walls of the store. Trying not to let anymore sounds slip he spoke with his voice now shrill and frightened “I'm really sorry, but I'm just taking this one box only and you have–”

drip

“Uh–.... Oh fuck…”

Toon could very clearly see a small drop of ink had fallen down off his face and onto the floor below. The hanging bay lights gave the small droplet a glint and for a split second Toon saw his disguised face completely malformed. His nose had shifted off to the side, his pupils were dilated and pitch black, worst of all most of his skin had started to droop like a very thick face mask about to be washed off. His entire disguise was coming undone and he looked like some misshapen wax figure that had gone out too long in the summer sun. The silence was deafening and even if Toon couldn't see the man’s face he knew he was getting a look of disgust. He had to get out, go far, far away.

The disguise he wore slipped away with his nerves, more drops of black fell onto the floor and Toon stumbled past the man. “I'm sorry, I'm just gonna take this and go” he mumbled.

“WAIT! Please give me that box!”

The man reached out towards Toon and time seemed to slow. For a split second in that moment Toon stood completely still, this random person grabbing at his hoodie making him react like a deer in headlights. The cearl box felt like nothing in his hands as they went numb, although not actually having blood nor a heartbeat he nonetheless heard a pounding in his ears that went off like sirens. His entire body felt like it was on the verge of collapsing as his mind raced, the finish line on his thought process telling him to do one and only thing:

Run

It was a spur of the moment thing. It was stupid and Toon cursed himself internally for doing such a moronic act but he couldn't help himself. The second his brain told him to, he ran, ran right out the store and into the cold rain. He could hear the shouting from the cashier, man. and the grocery store anti theft alarm but he never once cared to look back. His body had begun to melt with the human face he wore coming off, his body reverting his visage to its primordial state of pitch black with small glowing white dots. Puddles of water splashed and muddied his feet as he dashed through them, even his shoes were apart of the human disguised and those two began to deform. He deeply prayed no one saw him running through the parking lot, clutching a box of cereal like his life depended on it. When he first arrived to the store the rain was a light sprinkle that was almost pleasant, now it was a complete torrential downpour with the dark clouds casting shadows everything under them.

By the time the adrenaline—or at least his bodies’ version of it—wore off the pain began to set in. Toon had run 3 blocks straight, never once looking behind himself until now. A ragged sigh of relief flew out between his lips which were almost completely melted together. The disguise was almost completely gone but he couldn't care less as he found himself alone.

”The fuck was that guy’s problem?” He thought, his mouth currently incapable of speaking.

Taking a quick look around Toon tried to calm himself, assessing his surroundings to the best of his abilities. He was in not too unfamiliar territory, there was an abandoned warehouse, residential apartments, and even a few suburban houses that had long developed rot since they were in use. Potholes lined the black asphalt streets that were only made blacker by the rain which drenched everything and even the lights set up on the sidewalk to give people the comfort of safety at night in such a dangerous area held nothing but dead bulbs. To say the scenery was dreary would be an understatement, it was plain old depressing giving an unnerving sense of isolation. Even most of the residential apartment buildings were abandoned with a possible select few having tenants in them. The exact reason for such an abandonment of an area was the fact this was the part of town that was simply neglected, stricken with poverty and homeless; it was much easier for city officials to merely ignore this entire area rather than invest money to improve it. It was a sad reality but one the sentient ink creature came to understand not too long after waking up. They simply wanted nothing to do with any of this area. Well, most of this area.

With a pull of his hoodie drawstrings Toon hid himself and carried on, his feet still aching and heart palpitating. He was no longer in danger but the weird interaction was going to be engraved into his brain for the next week, at minimum. It was so odd, and for what? This weird frosted flaky cereal with marshmallows in it? He looked at the box and couldn't find what was so special about it, it was family size and heavy?... That was about it? The RatBit was just an honest to God loss on what the hell could be so special that someone would be willing to pay 10 times the amount the box cost if he handed it over. It was a box—a bit heavy sure but still—a box of cereal. Was this some sort of limited edition type thing and this dude was just a hoarder buying up every box the store had? All questions that would go unanswered, there really wasn't any logic he could apply to why the man had so many boxes in his cart and wanted this one as well. Toon just dismissed it as another bizarre display of man’s lunacy at its finest and left it at that.

Doing his oh so hardest to shove that out of his mind, Toon finally looked up when he was approaching his neighborhood. With only a quick glance given towards both ends of the road he made a direct beeline across the street to his home. A small concrete studio that was once used by animators one and a half stories high awaited him with its door partially hung open, big letters that once used to shine bright were just as broken and dull as everything else hung on the front part of the building. What was left of the old sign specifically held deep significance to the disguised ink creature, whatever the building was called had been lost to time leaving no letters other than “toon” as a label. The entire thing he held dearly but for him but it was the sign that gave his name, it was one of the few things he had when he awoke.

Toon finally got out of the rain and stepped inside with the cereal box he held in tow. Once inside he slammed the door behind him, the hinges filled with rust made an awful scraping sound and he prayed it would stay closed. The building lacked locks—because Toon broke them when he awoke—so he resorted to blocking all the entrances as a way to keep out unwanted guests. Today was different though, today he had no care and didn't bother blocking the main entrance. Instead he walked all the way over to the small part of the building he fashioned into a somewhat livable area and flicked on the lights. His sole company of roaches that infested the building skittered out of sight into unseen cracks and crevices, a sight that most would find revolting had become all too commonplace. He didn't care about the roaches or any other insects that lived with him, what he cared about and was focused on was a small box that sat on a table. Inside of the box rested small bits of drawings, doodles, and scraps of film reels that had been cut out focused on singular cartoon character from the 30s. This was Toon’s reference for his face, it's what he found when he awoke and quickly grew to acclimate to. It was something that felt familiar in an odd way and he had a connection to, he liked to believe those drawings were him, or at least apart of him.

Alas the reconnection with his body was short-lived. A small red envelope he had forgotten about was stuffed into the box by the RatBit earlier that week poked out.

”SHIT! I forgot about that!”

Toon swiped the envelope and he let out a gurgled groan reading the words “URGENT” on it addressed to some fake name he utilized. While the place appeared abandoned on the outside he was lucky enough to abuse the systems enough to be able to make a claim to owning it, squatters rights and all that. The unfortunate part of this was the fact that if he wanted to continue owning it it meant paying what property taxes that would be sent to his address and fake name. Another tragic detail was the fact that he had the unfortunate luck of dwelling in the only building actually wanting to be changed. He couldn't remember when but a couple months back he was offered a very miniscule amount of cash for his residence, they wanted to turn the old studio into some store or something. Toon didn't pick up on the exact details and time muddied them in his mind, but what he could clearly remember was the bottom line of them wanting to demolish and remodel the only place that he could call home. Needless to say he rejected the offer in an instant, but now that he was getting letters in the mail regarding the building he knew that if he missed one more payment he'd be evicted and no doubt the walls that were filled with unknown amounts of history would be wiped clean. Toon felt bitter towards the entire situation and looking within his pocket which held a 5 dollar bill he'd have to go back and give up just made him feel worse. He cursed himself for not taking the money the man offered if he gave up that box, but he'd rather die than go back desperate for the cash.

Between that bullshit that happened at the store, his current hunger, and now the revelation of this letter resurfacing it felt like life was becoming all too much and hectic. He just needed to gather his thoughts, take a breath, and take one thing at a time. Right now he was going to focus on the thing preventing him from taking a breath, the fact that his face was just a blank slate of ink with 2 glowing eyes. Toon tossed the envelope to the side and picked up one of the more intact drawings of the cartoon studio’s mascot, his face shifting to mimic what he saw.

Long snout, fluffy spike-like fur on his cheeks, black stripe running vertical across his eyes, black triangle nose, long floppy ears, pecut pupils located in a conjoined eye that also acted like brow, tuft of fur on his head—

“THAT'S WHAT IT WAS!” he exclaimed, the earlier feeling of something amiss being answered.

Toon licked his fingers and pressed them to his forehead, the fur beneath his fingertips melted allowing him to quickly mold it into a type of cow-lick before it hardened back into soft white fur. While he was at it he also ditched the pants he wore and added a few more details to his body based on the design papers he held. His hands kept the look of gloves but from his fingers and palms grew grey digital pads mimicking paws, his feet did the same. Sopping wet shoes covered in small bits of dirt and debris from outsidewere now white furry paws that he was quick to wipe on the ground. One final detail he added to his body was a monochromatic rat tail that emerged from his behind. With his body reshaped into that of the cartoon character he looked over at a small mirror he had hung up, it's glass cracked from him accidentally dropping it with the first attempt at trying to mount it on the wall.

Sure enough looking back was the cartoon character that probably was the studio he lived in’s mascot. He did do research on the place he dwelled in, a trip to the public library allowed him to look up what this place was but it netted minimal results. It was a small indie studio run by a group of friends who wanted to draw, it held no actual details regarding any creations that came from it nor any sort of report why it closed. All Toon knew was that the people who founded it were long dead since the 60s all that remained from them being a shelter, a few drawings he could use as an identity, a face and–”

gggggrrrrrrowwwe

–Hunger…

Toon groaned and lifted up his hoodie to look at his body, his inky stomach caving in on itself. Unlike his limbs which held proper fur on them his body was just a smooth inky shape vaguely resembling a torso of androgynous appearance although it became more unstable and harder to maintain with each day it was deprived of nutrients. Thankfully in his grasp he held the family sized cereal box, he'd have to ration it out until he could afford more food and perhaps it wasn't the most nutritious considering the box did sneakily hold small facts on the side stating it's high sugar contents, but it was still food. Food he could happily munch on. who needed milk? All he needed was the tasty flavor of the dry–

“tape?!”

Toon’s fur stood up and he retracted his hand, a VHS tape in his grasp. He was beyond confused and immediately noticed most of the weight the cereal box held vanished when he pulled out what was clearly not a bag full of cereal out. Heck, there wasn't even a bag the cereal was held in, the fruit flakes were just stuffed in with the tape leaving them crushed at the bottom. Instead of a nice box of cereal all he got was some stupid tape that took up 2/3rds of the box leaving him with barely anything.

“... What?” He muttered in disbelief “wha–WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?”

The RatBit buried his entire snout into the box to see what he had left. It was about a single bowl’s worth, definitely nowhere near what he thought he was getting nor what he should be getting for what he paid for. Well, he didn't pay for it and had to actually go back and give them the money, BUT STILL!

“I thought these things came with toys not whatever the hell this is!? What the fuck is this bullshit!”

Toon unlodged his snout from the box and firmly gripped the tape. He had effectively been robbed and all he had for food was a few handfuls of stale cereal and some shitty tape to show for it. He wanted to get mad, lash out and throw the tape against the wall letting it smash into thousands of little pieces before using his teeth to bite through the celluloid film reels. Just do anything to express his anger and what was soon becoming grief as he realized he wasted what little he had for a singular serving of food. But he couldn't. With everything that happened and what was going to happen with the place he lived in he honestly couldn't care anymore. Everything was becoming too exhausting and he'd just do what he'd always do, take the problem on the chin and try to press on even if he was feeling mad and on the verge of tears.

Toon let out a sigh, trying his best to relieve his frustration. His ears were drooped downwards and he looked at the tape in his hands. This actually snapped him out of his rage, the tape had the clear image of that cute cartoon rabbit on it in the background with the big words “PLAY ME!” in the foreground. Under it was small text which he had to squint to see. “Finding Frankie, season:1” it read in very small text. Now while it was neat having a piece of physical media of a TV show come with a box of cereal, Toon still felt pissed considering he bought cereal. He expected to get you know—maybe cereal!?

“Well… I guess I might as well watch this, nothing else to do after all and I ain't going back to the store while that weirdo is probably still there” Toon threw his hands up in the air in a fit, a few bits of the colorful flakes and marshmallows flew out of the box and he sighed.

After scooping what fell out back into the box Toon shuffled over to a storage closet that he knew kept small pieces of hardware from its hay day. Admittedly a cartoon studio from the 30s having a VCR in a closet was a bit bizarre but considering Toon also found his red hoodie in the building he just assumed there was an attempt to bring this place to life or turn it into something else before it was scrapped. Whatever the case he had a small CRT TV and a VCR which he dragged back into the livable area and plugged it in into an outlet. A small spark emerged making the RatBit flinch back, a side effect of the power being haphazardly directly connected to another building’s power grid. It was dangerous—and highly illegal—but it worked and allowed Toon to not only turn on lights, but now watch whatever was on the thing that had tricked him. Unlike the weight of the box, the tape didn't lie to him and was actually what it claimed to be and be a cartoon aired with the intent to educate kids and in no way garner an adult’s entertainment.

Oddly enough though, Toon did find entertainment in it. The show enamored him, probably because of the rabbit character, and he found himself sat on the floor with his pie cut eyes glued to the TV. With the box in his hands he rummaged around and scooped out a handful of the cereal. It was definitely stale, the taste comparable to that of fruit flavored dust that left an unpleasant aftertaste. Toon’s face scrunched up as he chewed but he knew he would be fine, he couldn't get sick like humans did. The horrible taste quickly became barely noticeable with each minute that ticked by, the rodent’s attention becoming more and more absorbed into what the television displayed.

“Finding Frankie” was the title just as the name on the VHS indicated. It starred the mascot of the cereal brand and the one plastered on the cover of the tape, a small lop-eared magician rabbit. The cartoon was very formulaic in its setup, usually the episode would start with Frankie attempting to impress unnamed characters with his magic trick only for something disastrous to happen and he'd rope in another character by the name of Henry Hotline who had a telephone for anyead to help him fix it before a third character named Deputy Duck with a tablet body found out what he did. A common gag in the show would be Frankie making himself “disappear” as a magic trick only to reappear in the background, whenever this would happen Henry Hotline would break the fourth wall and ask the audience to help him find Frankie which is probably where the title came from. After the initial 20 or so minutes of Frankie and his animated hijinks the show would then switch to a live action format, a man in a Frankie suit would come from off screen and greet a bunch of children and with the help of a tablet modeled to look like Deputy Duck they'd advocate for kids to exercise or whatever message the animated segment built. After the show there would also be one bonus segment, no longer than 5 minutes in length. It was a bit called “Calling Henry Hotline!” with the gist of it being an animated Henry would be sitting in what looked like some sorta kid version of a talk show setup where his head would ring and he'd pick up the phone listening to some question from a child. The questions ranged from life advice like how to deal with bullies or what to do if you break something all the way to questions about the characters in the Finding Frankie world. In a bit of charming characterization from the creators Henry would always initially answer these questions with intentionally poor, sarcastic or downright misleading advice, often saying the direct opposite of what one should do only for the quack of Deputy Duck to come off screen prompting him to reluctantly give a more helpful answer.

It was generic, childish, and oftentimes cheesy but dear god was Toon so fascinated with it all.

The little rodent never once looked away, not even bothering with pretending to need to blink. The world seemed to fade away and he subconsciously munched on the stale cereal with laser focus on the incredibly charming character of Frankie. He didn't know why but whenever the animated rabbit would be on screen he felt that odd feeling deep within his inky body that he felt at the store. It was a sort of bubbling and warmth that he never had felt before and saved him from reality. It allowed him to dissociate from all of it, the poverty stricken area, the bad tasting dry food being shoved into his muzzle, what happened at the store, the oncoming threat of his home being taken away, and even the discomfort he felt from merely existing. All of it just ceased to exist when Frankie would stretch with his mechanical limbs to climb something, bounce around or pull a human out of a hat. The Henry segment was humorous and the live action segment was delightful, but it was always those first 20 minutes at the very start of the episode that would force Toon to patiently sit and wait till the next played. Episode after episode he watched solely for the endearing rabbit that would make him feel a special sort of way.

All good things had to come to an end, eventually Toon’s bad luck came to tackle him to the ground. For some inexplicable reason the show he suddenly grown an attachment too started to not feel like itself. The animation segment in the very beginning was shortened down to 10 minutes with plots feeling a lot more rushed and nonsensical, the animation following along as it became very choppy with numerous errors made along the way. Henry’s 5 minute segment was removed, or at least it might as well have been. The telephone head no longer answered questions but now simply advertised products, one of these products being the very cereal the rodent found the tape in. The absolute worst was the live action segment that took up most of the cartoon’s runtime. What originally was supposed to be an educational segment intended to teach kids a lesson that would connect in some way to the animated part was now tried to be the entertaining part. It was filled with mediocre jokes or physical gags that would have been a thousand times better in an animated and more exaggerated format. The creepiest part of all of this though was the suit. The original Frankie suit was nowhere to be seen and now it was just this one mascot costume that resembled Frankie but was definitely not his cute magician rabbit. It had a permanent smile on its face with large teeth, beady eyes and movements that were stiff. The entire thing just got worse and Toon was forced to watch the death of something he had just fell in love with not to long ago. Thankfully it was only the last batch of episodes that had this horrendous format, once over the rodent couldn't help but feel worse. All the joy, happiness, and charm he garnered from Frankie and his show had its throat slit in front of him and like always he just had to take it.

When the final episode finished Toon stood up witnessing what was probably the most devastating event of the day “well… that was nice? M-most of it…” he said, the bright side not exactly shining the brightest.

With a melancholic smile he reached forward to eject the tape, his hand faltering the second he heard some extra footage that made his ears perk up.

”[CONGRATULATIONS! If you are watching this that means you are one of the only FOUR lucky people around the world who have the honor of participating in a gameshow located in the WORLD’S largest indoor trampoline, water, and parkour park!]”

Toon’s arm slowly lowered and he watched the screen. Real footage of a place that Henry advertised showed on screen as well as a few shots of what the indoor parts of the entertainment park looked like. It all went by so fast he could barely make out the scenery expect for a sign that read “Frankie’s Parkour Palace” which the camera lingered on.

”[To participate in this thrilling adventure simply bring the season one VHS you found in your winning box of Frankie’s Fruit Flakes to our main location in order to have a chance at winning FIVE MILLION DOLLARS!]”

The world lurched to a halt and Toon's eyes turned into small dots “five– five– five–”

The rodent continued to stutter as the tape continued with its message.

”[With over three stories of action-packed parkour obstacle courses, this is sure to be a gameshow you won't NEVER forget!]” The announcer suddenly spoke rapidly, his voice quieter and easily missable to the untrained ear ”[FindingFrankieanditsbrandtakesnoliabilityforanydeathdismembermenttraumaorotherwiseadverseeffectsthatmaycomefromparticipatinginthisgameshowmust beeighteenyearsoroldertoenterinvitationisnon-eligibleifanyoneotherthanthewinnerismadeawareofitsexistencewewillfindout]” and just like that it spoke loud again ”[We hope to see you there, lucky contestant…]”

Toon blinked slowly, his face blank. Quite literally blank, the ink that made up his expressions had dripped off and was a puddle on the floor.

The rodent was quick to bend down and smear the ink back on, reshaping his face as he gave breathless mutters, the shock of everything making him forget how to breath “holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck, HOLY FUCK!” black ink streaked down his face from his eyes, this time out of joy.

He could hardly believe his luck, no wonder that man wanted the box at the store he was trying to find the winning tape. He didn't though, instead Toon managed to find it and he was thankful to gods he didn't even believe in for allowing him a chance to change the horrid streak of luck that always befallen him. Ideas of what he could do swarmed in his mind, with a million dollars he'd be able to eat a proper meal for once in his life not once but probably an entire year or maybe two. With the remaining millions he could fix up the crappy building he called home. Heck, with all that cash he could go one step beyond and kick the place back into working order, hiring animators to come and make a new cartoon starring the character he took the form of. Maybe those creatives would be able to make changes to the design he found himself drawn to. Maybe they could be the ones to design him a body that he'd be able to be comfortable with.

All these thoughts put a big giddy smile on his face. Rewinding backwards to find the exact location of wherever this place would be, Toon began to mentally brace himself for whatever this game show would entail. This was a chance to not only better but entirely change his situation. It was a chance he was not willing to waste.

[vnamps]

THE GRADE AID. 003

prev. | next

overall summary: lee min-ho, your absolute academic rival, an absolute menace needs help to raise his grade before the semester ends, and who better to ask for help than you, the grade aid.

word count : 1.3k

overall contents: minho is cocky, a bunch of teasing, angst, fights, mentions of injuries, good ending.

authors note: I got carried away idk i need to stop watching kdramas.

Ever since Minho's meeting with Jeongin and Jisung, the study sessions haven't been the same. Minho has been acting like what one would even call a ...gentleman? It was like your everyday pleas for his menace behavior to stop were finally being heard.

And as the weeks grew, he became even a little more tolerable, to say the least. And even so, that didn't stop you from being surprised as he approached an offer to you after one of the study sessions.

"What?" You looked at him as if you'd seen a ghost, his calm expression remaining. Of course, it wasn't unusual to hang out with others in high school; But to be asked by someone you have no association with besides during your tutoring sessions is absolute maniac to you.

"It's a generous offer, you don't just say 'what' you give a clear answer" he says, deadpan look on his face.

"I'm sorry Minho, I'm too busy for a hangout session with someone I'm already spending too much time with than I need"

He peers out the window, a grin appearing on his face. "How are you meant to get home then?"

Your gaze followed his as he looked back at the raindrops that raced each other down the glass, every now and then merging with each other and falling faster .

"I'll... find a way"

"oh please, it's 40 degrees outside and harshly raining and you live more than a mile away from the school, allow me my one chance at being nice, you should be grateful"

you roll your eyes at that, looking down at your books and lack of a bag to fit them all. it's so far looking like you'll just have to take him up on the offer.

"Fine. Take me straight home" You grab your stuff and head for the exit as he smiles in victory as phase one of his plan succeeds.

The car ride was painfully more quiet than he intended as happy together by the turtles played quietly, the sound of the music mixing in with the loud sounds of rain.

As you stop at your home, you're about to open the door before he locks it. "At least let me walk to the door, you're holding valuable information for me and I wouldn't allow it to get wet"

You roll your eyes once more, sighing as you watch him reach in the back for an umbrella, opening his door and opening it.

Your eyes trail him as he makes his way to your side, opening the door. "what a gentleman " you say sarcastically as you try rushing to your door, him trailing behind you.

As you knock on the door, you're greeted by your mother and a warm smile. "Y/n! ooo, who's this cute boy?" she glanced at Minho, a grin on her face.

He smiles back. "Lee Minho" his charming smile was even enough to fool you as you groan.

"Well come inside, wouldn't want you to get caught in this horrible weather..." your eyes widened , looking back at Minho who looked down at you with a grin as he nodded.

You both sat on the couch as your mother prepared tea, Minho sitting and looking innocent as ever.

"I guess we are getting to hangout after all. Aren't you wondering why the world works in wonderful ways?"

"What I'm wondering is what I must've done in my past life to get this much karma."

Minho scoffs, glaring at you before glancing around at your home.

"I must say though, your house is quite small..." Now it was your turn to scoff, leaning back in the couch.

"I'm sorry? not everyone has a house filled with rooms that collect dust all day. its called convenience."

"And my home isn't convenient? What if on days like these there is a tourist that needs shelter? "

"That'd be the least of your concerns, your family is pure evil, no goodness in their hearts at all"

"I think that's very prejudice-" Before he can finish his sentence, your mother is walking in with a tray that has mugs filled with black cherry tea.

The smell is wonderful, one that catches both you and Minho off guard and certainly is a contrast from your previous moods.

"Wow.. that smells amazing.." Minho says and you can't help but to agree with him for once in your life.

Your mother sets the tray down on the coffee table, smiling at you two. "Now, we don't have coasters but this'll do." She looks up at Minho then at the clock. "You can go back whenever you feel. Any friend of Y/n's is family to us"

Minho then smiles, putting his lips against the edge of the cup, sipping slowly as the steam touches the tip of his nose. The taste was delicious. There was a bit of sugar added within the tea to gift it a sweeter taste.

The way his eyes light up as soon as the taste hits his tongue, a small smile that comes and goes. It's something that almost made you forget he was the same one you were arguing with just 2 minutes ago.

The rain had stopped leaving a dewy smell that illuminated the bursting colors that mixed in the sky.

You stood by Minho, getting lost in it as you were about to wish him goodbye (your mother's orders)

"Woah ... I don't get to see those colors from where I live." He looks mesmerized as the dark grey clouds contrast the blue, pink, and orange ombre.

Your snort a bit, glancing at him. "you mean you don't get to see the sky? "

He rolls his eyes before shaking his head.

"Not like this, it feels so... raw" You furrow your eyebrows as he continues.

"Even the tea today, which was amazing- I... I've never had something like that before."

It feels a bit lightheaded to look up at the sky and also think but it also feels a bit humbling to know that there is something more prettier than big white fancy houses and all the newest tech .

You sigh, digging your hands into your pockets. "Well, that's a normal life for ya. Things like this go unnoticed by everyone but I think we're the most unappreciative of it as we get such a view. You should get going, Minho. Good night " You walk back into your home, shutting the door behind you before Minho watches the lights turn off.

taglist :@palindrome969 @rpwplost @valkyriexo @intrikatie @brainrotahahaha @turtledove824 @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @ashxxgyu @linosalwayslinos

[cowgurrrl]

Don't Let This Darkness Fool You

Summary: Joel's journey to sobriety [1.1k]

Author's note: idk how i feel about this

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, ANGST, TW ADDICTION, misuse of drugs and alcohol, mention of Sarah's death and Ellie's time in FEDRA school, chronic pain, symptoms of withdrawal, Joel trying to make peace with his past, happy ending

The first time Joel goes to a meeting, he sits in the back and says nothing. He watches person after person get up and talk at the front of the room like it's the easiest thing in the world. He doesn't move. He can barely breathe in the musty church rec room as he listens to their stories and finds pieces of himself in each. The survivor left to carry on when everyone else died or left; the bereaved parent; the ruthless dealer shaking down clients to make ends meet; the addict.

Joel never felt the need to examine his relationship with substances. He drank and smoked and made bad decisions as a teenager and into young adulthood, which is partly how he became a single parent at twenty-two. After Sarah was born, he didn't have the time or energy to party anymore. Sure, he had a beer or two here, but never anything close to a bender. He always had to wake up for work and make sure Sarah got to school on time. He would just be setting himself up for failure if he drank heavily.

Then Sarah died, and nothing mattered anymore. The FEDRA doctor gave him a bottle of painkillers for the stitches on the side of his head, and he never thought twice about it. At first, it was manageable. A drink here, some pills there. His kid had just died. He was allowed to grieve however he wanted to, or that was his reasoning, at least, when it became harder to get under control. He would go from being fine to the throes of withdrawal and back to the hazy stupor that rendered him incapable of function. It was a cycle. One that Tess and Tommy hated, but he was always sober when they needed him to be, or he tried to be.

That entire year spent with Ellie, he was more scared of what would happen if he did touch the stuff than if he didn't. His objective was no longer how fast he could get his next fix. It was how fast he could get Ellie fed or somewhere safe. When they finally settled in Jackson, he felt like he could relax without the help of a neat whiskey or a handful of menacing white pills. He was good. He kicked his nasty little habit that followed him for decades and cold turkey at that. He was fine. Until the trauma from the previous twelve months finally caught up with him.

His back was permanently fucked up from falling off the horse in Colorado. He got horrible headaches, which were probably the result of one too many hits to the head and neck. His wrist clicked in pain every time he moved it too fast, and he couldn't sleep. The Jackson doctor cautiously prescribed him anti-anxiety medication and painkillers. And goddammit, if those little pills didn't make him feel the tiniest bit better. He could feel the spiral start again but was too scared to voice it or ask for help.

It wasn't until that night when he stumbled home drunk and a little high after a patrol shift and found Ellie doing homework at the dinner table. He slurred an apology, and she eyed him like a dangerous stranger when he sat across from her. They got into a fight. Joel doesn't remember what it was about, but he remembers going to bed feeling stone-cold sober even though the alcohol was still thrumming through his veins. In the morning, Ellie admitted that she hated when he drank because it reminded her of the FEDRA soldiers loudly coming home from QZ bars. Drunk men with authority and weapons are enough to scare anyone, let alone a little girl. Joel promised her it would never happen again, and he fully intended to keep his promise, but he'd be lying if he said it was easy to quit.

His hands shook in pain for the first few days, and he constantly felt sick. He was sweaty and irritable and uncomfortable. It didn't help that the other patrolmen would ask him to join them for a drink after patrols. He almost folded once. He was almost over the threshold of the Tipsy Bison before he doubled back and ended up at Tommy's door, crumpling in on himself from pain and withdrawal. It was Tommy who mentioned something about the drug addict's anonymous support group. "I'll even come with ya." His brother offered as he rubbed his back like Joel was a fussy infant instead of a grown man.

So, that's how Joel found himself white-knuckling his way through a DAA meeting with Tommy at his side. Tommy assured him that everything said in the meeting was privileged and couldn't leave the church doors. Joel was safe to say anything, and he would receive support. Still, he was so scared. He just sat and watched. It would take two more months of tears, sleepless nights, and fighting temptation before he found the strength to walk down to the front of the room.

"Hi, my name's Joel and… I'm, uh," he stumbled. "I'm an addict." He shared the bits of his story he felt comfortable sharing, but his hands wrung nervously the whole time. He was waiting for the room to turn on him or for the world to end (again), but it didn't. He said the worst things about himself and everything was… fine. "I just… wanna do better for my," he breathed deeply. "For my Ellie." He awkwardly thanked the group and moved to sit back down when the group leader, a kind-looking woman named Shawna, stopped him.

"How long have you been sober, Joel?" She asked softly, and he cleared his throat.

"'Bout four months, ma'am." He said, and she quickly turned to grab something out of her bag. Before he could ask what she was looking for, she pressed a dented circle into his hand and smiled.

"Now, it ain't as pretty as the ones back in the day, but you should be just as proud." She said before encouraging the group to applaud Joel. He felt silly receiving the praise, but when he sat back down, he couldn't ignore how much better he felt.

He didn't look at what Shawna gave him until after the meeting. He thought it was a personal thing he should see only when alone. He waited until his boots were off and he was comfortable on the couch before fishing the wonky thing out of his pocket and looking at it. It was obviously made from scrap pieces of metal, and the engraving was all wrong, but the words "4 months sober" still made him beam with pride. Joel stared at it for a few minutes before walking upstairs to Ellie's empty room and scribbling a note on her desk.

When Ellie gets home from studying with Dina and Jesse, she finds the coin on her desk beside a note in Joel's blocky handwriting. It reads, "Every single one is for you. It's all for you."

[gebnohe]

The Number One and Only!!

hsr women x idol reader

characters: Acheron, Robin, Serval (separately, not in order)

tags: gn!reader, fluff, idol, idol!reader, established relationship, suggestive for some

a/n: I COMPLETELY FORGOT I HAD A TUMBLR ACCOUNT  LOLLL

so firstly i wanna say i know almost nothing about celebrity culture i dunno how red carpet stuff works or whatever and yeaheayeeayeyayeah 

idk if this has been done already and youll probably see this a lot in my author notes

ive only read maybe a few fics to understand the [acceptable] format and stuff, and theyve only really been hsr fics

i love hsr! wow! 

i did just throw this together when i remembered i had a tumblr so apologies if it isnt up to the best quality im rusty and motivationless

also i like doing these little author stuff for whatever reason idk i find them nice

apologies if i did any mischaracterizing in here i try my best to get characters done right and whatnot

sorry about length differences…! owwwww

PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR THE NEXT ONE PLEASE 

(and yes, if you recognize the reference in the title, it IS one… heh…) 

you are a king/queen/monarch/ruler/supreme leader/dictator(? 😨 hopefully not) gg!

errr about the robin one my friend did ask that i write an nsfw of it (i did end up doing it) but im not sure if its actually good or not.

idk how/if ill link it

i also just dont really want to be a smut writer, i just wanna write cute warm maybe suggestive but not nsfw stuff… (on the occasion i remember this account)

also are there female firefly fans?? i genuinely have never seen one 

still doing a tiiiny bit of semi colon practice because wife said it was hot when used properly so i am going out of my way to start using them. anything for wife. lesbians unite. sapphics unite ✊. i hope you all find your second scissor.. 

Context: You’re an idol working under an agency! Pretty basic formula. You’re extremely popular, and able to charm anyone with next to no effort. People lay their eyes on you and fall in love almost immediately. Your performances are always beautiful, eye catching, and got every witness addicted from the moment you start to the moment you end. (Also this was written with the intent of you being a different [kind of] idol in each one, but idk feel however you want or something??)

Acheron:

Work today was exhausting… again. You’re going on tour soon, so your managers are stressing out about plans, being hinderances and disturbing your peace. How could an agency be so unprepared? 

It didn’t matter… they paid well at least. But your whole week had been exhausting; your manager was being the pain in the ass they always were, and you were working “overtime” practicing your routine just to make sure you got it down to just how it was intended. 

And when you were finally allowed to go home, you barely made it to the car. Hell, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. But somehow, you’d managed to get home.

You fumble with your keys for a few seconds before you finally unlock the door, exhaustedly stepping inside. And there, you’re greeted by your gorgeous girlfriend, Acheron. 

“Ah, you’re home?” She says, immediately noticing your exhaustion as she approaches. 

“Exhausting work.” You groan. “…this week is stressful…”

Acheron walks over to you, providing a kiss on your cheek and taking your hand, leading you to the bedroom to lie down and rest. 

“Mmm…” You murmur, following along as she guides you. “Thank you…”

Instead of lying you down on the bed, she sits on the side of it and gently pulls you onto her lap, making you straddle her.

“How was work?” She asks, eyes shifting to look up at you, hands coming to rest on your thighs, “Wait. You already said.” 

Acheron cuts you off, a small and gentle smile on her lips, her finger on yours after coming up from your thigh. 

“Yeah… but Aeons… it’s been so stressful this week…” You sigh, smiling softly back at her. “My manager is being so anno…” 

You suddenly trail off, Acheron’s hands caressing you from your thighs to your waist and back again. Her lips found your neck and she start gently kissing your skin, occasionally nipping at it. 

“Continue…” She murmurs, breath warm against your neck. 

You shiver while Acheron continues pressing her lips to your neck, “Annoying… and…” 

You try to continue, but the continued affection and kisses on your neck along with the touches make it even harder to focus. Acheron’s hands start to undo your clothes, your skin slowly forgetting the caresses of the fabric and becoming familiar with the caresses of Acheron’s hands. 

“Forget about work…” She whispers, lips moving to your ear and giving a playful and suggestive nip. Your hands struggle to find something to hold onto in order to steady yourself while she moves down to your collarbone, still speaking quietly.

“You can just let me treat you tonight…”

Serval:

Serval clearly had musical talent, which you easily scouted from the moment you saw her when you toured in Belobog. You informed your manager about her, and easy as that. Now she was working with you, helping compose and create new songs for you to perform. You’d noticed more about Serval though, with her musical talent not being the only thing that drew you to her. That vibrant, electric, outgoing, and sociable personality. Even that purple streak of her hair was really cute. And over the time you two worked together, you two grew really close. It evolved from just a work relationship to a friendship, and from a friendship to a relationship. 

But you stop your daydreaming reminiscence when you hear a knock on the studio door, Serval peaking her head into the room. 

“You in here?” She says, looking around the room before her eyes rest in you. “There you are.” 

Serval’s expression softens, taking a step into the room with a coffee in her hand, and the another being held between her arm and chest. 

“You alright there?” You chuckle, standing up and walking over. “Need help?” You ask, watching her awkwardly try to close the door while simultaneously trying to not spill either coffee she was carrying. 

“Ah, thanks, love.” Serval replies gently, exhaling with a bit in relief as you take the coffee she was holding between her arm and chest. 

“You look good today.” She smirks, “I mean, not that it’s anything new but… even better than usual.”

“Really now?” You smirk back, returning the tease, “Though… I’m not sure if you could look any better.” 

“Damn right.” She laughs gently, closing the door behind her, then kisses you.

Serval takes your hand, walking over to the table which was only a few feet away, snd sets her coffee on the table, looking you in the eyes. “So. Do we actually plan on getting work done today? Or are you just gonna let me cling to you for a few more hours?” 

“I’d love that, but we need to actually finish this song.” You chuckle back. “We can do that after or during, but we actually need to work now.” 

Serval wraps her hands around your waist and pulls you towards you, then lovingly kisses you while squeezing your body against hers. “…Fine.” She smirks, amused  that you’re getting a but strict on her. “Let me finish my coffee first. I can’t work in peak shape unless I’m actually awake fully.” 

“…Eh. Fair enough.” You shrug, compromising. She was never a morning person, after all. 

Serval takes another sip from her cup then sets it back down on the table, the arm moving back around you and meeting her other hand around your back. 

“So. You actually got any plans for what we’re gonna work on today? Or are we just going in… raw?” She asks with a raised eyebrow and suggestive tone. 

“Damn it, Serval.” You laugh gently, “Be quiet.” 

Serval smiles warmly back at you, hugging you again then finishing her coffee. “Alright, alright. Fine. Later then.” She boops your nose playfully, then kisses your cheek and steps away from the table. 

Serval randomly pauses and slowly turns to you. “…Have we even started working on the song yet?” 

You stare at her blankly in response for a few seconds. “Uh.” 

Serval bursts out into a gently laughter, her beautiful and cheerful voice filling the room before she slowly manages to compose herself, a grin rapidly growing on your face. “Okay, okay. We should start now.” 

“Wow, great idea.” You say sarcastically with an affectionate eye roll, walking over and taking her hand while shifting into a softer tone. “So where should we start?”

Robin:

You were both heavily involved with the music industry, obviously. Fellow singer, performer, whatever. It didn’t matter, because Robin had fallen in love immediately. She loved the way you moved when you sang, how you held the mic… and her eyes always being glued to your lips as you performed. SHE was your number 1 fan.

But of course, your relationship obviously couldn’t be public. Do you realize how much attention that would attract? Yeah, no. You both were celebrities, but having paparazzi asking Robin if you and her had tongue-kissed yet sounded the farthest bit from pleasant. 

And there you were. You were on that shining stage, singing and performing, looking beautiful as you always did. All of this was only enhanced by the glaring lights, the way the crowd cheering you on from below just made you shine even more. And it even with all of the combine efforts of all those elements, Robin still felt her eyes drawn and glued to your lips. 

She continues watching from backstage while you wrap up your performance, waving to the crowd as the curtains closed while a bead of sweat glides down your face and the spotlights shine down upon your position on stage. 

The curtains fully close and you exhale, gently putting your hand on your chest. “Haah…” You breathe, sweat drops trailing down your face and hitting the floor. You take a moment for yourself so you can catch your breath, then make your way backstage.

While walking, you sigh again, exhausted from the performance you just put on as you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You slowly turn around, and Robin suddenly presses her lips against yours, pinning you against the wall, her tongue gently pushing its way into your mouth as her arms move from your shoulders, across your arms and to your hands as she laces your fingers with hers. She moves her arms down to coil them around your waist and squeeze your body closer to hers as she continues kissing you.

Shortly after she pulls away and looks you in the eyes, nearly panting as much as you were with a piercing glitter in her aquamarine-like eyes. 

“Holy- aeons above… you were amazing!” She says excitedly, hugging you tightly. “Xipe I-“ she continues, still squeezing you. (Xipe is the harmony aeon) 

She laughs gently, a lot more excited about your performance than you are, and amused by your lack of words despite only giving you maybe a second to get out a sentence. 

“Robin… my stars…” You laugh back gently, wrapping your arms around her neck as they rest on her shoulders. 

“That was the worst scare I’ve ever gotten…” you tell her, catching your breath. It really wasn’t because of the performance this time, though. 

She hugs you tightly again before speaking. “You’re amazing.” She tells you gently, a playful and approving smile on her face. “Goodness me… I have so much I want to say…” She kisses your cheek then takes your hand, almost dragging you to your changing room as she continues to wear that same playful smile. 

“Robin, calm down.” You chuckle tiredly, walking in the door behind her and exhaustedly sitting down at your makeup stand. 

Robin walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your neck, resting her cheek on the top of your head. You lean back into her touch from the chair, your hands finding their way up to her forearms and resting there. She kisses the top of your head before backing up and swiveling your chair around, then cups your face and plants a kiss on your lips. 

“Don’t worry, I already locked the door.” She assures you, a look of desire in her eyes as she moves down your face, her hands mimicking the action, moving down to your waist and up your shirt. “If you’re still too exhausted, I can do all the work this time…” 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Caine and kinger x reader with ADHD

Caine and Kinger x reader w/ ADHD

yahoo!! gonna knock out some requests today !! this is gonna be based off of my own experiences btw !! not much else i can think to put in this authors note so! ill just get on with it note from the future, little longer than i intended but thats mostly because admin started relating TOO much wuh-oh

CAINE:

caine is honestly really good about keeping you on track when theres a task at hand. i dont know about you, but i tend to wander about when im working on something; to check on something else repeatedly then coming back to what needs to be done and just go back and forth.(shit im even doing it now, the getting up and checking on things thing even though i know the thing is fine/complete) i like to think that caine would be pretty okay at making sure you get the thing you need/want to do done! i dont think theres meds in the digital world, i mean yeah sure you can ask for them but since theyre digital theyre not going to actually. do anything. but lets say in a hypothetical au where this all takes place in the real world and caine is a real person, he would make sure you take them consistently and on time. honestly this hc isnt really part of the ask but; i generally like to think that caine likes to follow routines and schedules as closely as he can... maybe its the ringmaster thing since hes tasked with keeping everything running but... shrugs

very supportive when you make a small mistake in something (like this is just a general thing, though) and isnt too obnoxious with trying to hold or regain your attention is something happens to the side and steals it away. very patient and polite with it, i think

last minute addition because it hit me like a sack of bricks. time blindness. fucking time blindness. you know how i mentioned that caine is good at keeping you on track? i think he would be good with helping you out with that, at least some of it. mostly logging your activities and him keeping an eye on the time (which he already does so its not like an extra habit he needs to pick up.. though if it werent he would pick it up in a heartbeat. literally anything for you, he loves you a lot)

KINGER:

honestly he might start to mimic your stims and fidgets! he doesnt mean to mock you, no i just think he would start to reflect your actions after spending most of his time around you to make sure you're okay! while caine keeps you on track, kinger is likely to go with you when you wander off to check/do something else. really unless its something time sensitive or really important is when hes going to start outwardly reassuring you that the other thing is fine. honestly, in an au with the real world i was originally going to say he would have a chance of forgetting to help remind you/ask if you took your meds (if you take them) but i think he would take stuff like that way too seriously to even DARE forget. like yeah sure you're not going to d1e if you forget to take them for a single day but still. he'd probably be like this with any meds tbh, so if you're prone to forgetting youll be fine as long as you have kinger around! gibes you pillows for fidget stuff, if you are feeling restless. or perhaps even goes on a walk with you around the circus grounds. like idk about yall, or if this is something completely unrelated, but my legs HURT when i sit too still. like down to the bone, if i dont get up every now and then its agony; sleeping is hell and on days its worse than others (like im talking sometimes i need to be in near constant movement) (also jerky arms and legs) (anyways)

also very polite with returning your attention to where it needs to be but honestly given that kinger himself is shown to space out at least twice in the pilot i think sometimes you guys both get side tracked and struggle to remember and/or get back into the flow of what you were originally doing

ponders

tldr; caine keeps you more on track with schedules whereas kinger embraces your flow a little more but both are respectful of things and dont really make you feel less than + remind you to take care of yourself