#tho that may be the hormones

[queer-crusader]

It is SO fucking hot and humid I feel like a mouldy sponge

[gregmarriage]

it might just be my period, but i feel very annoying. like i’m too much and too intense for ppl and i keep scaring them away, bc they don’t like that

[otter-pup]

Hiii bestie, if your mystery pain feels like period cramps it MIGHT be T causing vagina/uterus atrophy. Basically T says we don’t need these, stop wasting resources on maintaining them, so the muscles get weak and become prone to cramping (a very truncated simplification, don’t come at me tumblr armchair doctors). It’s annoying but harmless. Aside from managing symptoms the way you would for normal period cramps, there are things like creams that can help, and regularly exercising the muscles (i.e. orgasms lol but also maybe kegels???) can help keep them strong. Though obviously if the pain comes back or gets worse during/after sexual activity, then give yourself time to recover like you would if you pulled a muscle. And also obviously, if the pain doesn’t go away after a few days or gets worse, consult your doctor. 💕👨🏻‍🔬🕺🏻

yeah i was considering that akjfhsd it's more towards the front kind of? like closer to my tdick but idk. went away shortly after posting abt it thankfully!!

[weepingseraphstranger]

I would gnaw on Chairface Chippendale's stupid chair leg teeth.

We are not the same.

[llycaons]

trying to listen to ancillary sword but it's going excruciatingly slow bc it's a sequel, and in fact I think the first sequel I'm listening to on audiobook. even very good sequels (which I expect this will be) will pepper in exposition and background info in the first chapter to catch up readers, which tend to take place in between lines of dialogue. I wouldn't mind except I always forget what was just said and have to go back and check, and it's comparatively much more difficult to rewind an audiobook to the right place than to glance back over a page. so I've been listening very very slowly aha. but I've finally gotten to ch2 and I'm glad I'm reading the sequel right away bc the story picks right up from the finale of the first book and I'm already intrigued by the new characters and entertained by the new plot direction

[eigwayne]

So I've been watching a whole lot of X-Files the last couple days, right? And there's the "Scully, you're not gonna believe this" meme, right? So obviously I was going to reach the episode that's from at some point.

Season 2, Episode 10 "Red Museum", 26:11. I didn't bother getting the exact frame but voila:

I knew it was coming eventually but I wasn't expecting it so early and I cracked up seeing it "in the wild," as it were.

[acelessthan3]

I think increased incidence of pollen-related allergies is proof that M. Night Shyamalan's The Happening premise is right, but it's just off by a couple degrees in how the actual biochemistry works.

[boringa55binch]

I think Glitchtrap did some modification to Gregory and Ness bodies probably

Something like fangs, eyes glow in the dark so they see better, no period or stronger resilence to sickness because they need to be in tip top shape to do important stuff and more.. Like they have been changed in more ways than one would think you know?

the glowing eyes and fangs are pretty cool, tho idk about the resilience to sickness thing. I don't think glitchtrap would have like... that much control over their bodies. Enhanced senses and some physical changes are the most he can do imo. same goes for stopping periods, that's a little too much control for a virus (i mean granted it may or may not be supernatural but i digress)

edit: actually! now that i think about it, since the glitchtrap virus is already messing around in their brains, it might be possible for it to fuck up the hormones in her systems enough to stop her from getting her period - or at least make her cycle irregular.

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗮 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗼𝘂𝘁; this is my personal way of coping with burnout, it may not work for you, but feel free to share in the comments the things that make you feel better when you feel this way ( blogger's note at the end of the post ).

𝟭. recognize the signs ( 🏳️ )

the moment of denial is over. i know, burnouts always come at the worst times when you have upcoming exams and a thousand things to do, but ignoring it won't get you anywhere, on the contrary, it will only prolong the worst, so recognizing and accepting the signs of burnout is the first step to getting out of it. if you don't end it, it'll end you, right? some common symptoms of burnout are exhaustion, excessive irritability, hormonal imbalances, change in appetite (too much or too little), sleep irregularities, increase in nervous tics.

𝟮. take time off ( 🫧 )

allow yourself to rest and recharge by taking a break from work or other stressors. depending on the severity of the burnout you may need an afternoon, or perhaps a couple of days to recover, it's not important, the important thing is that you reserve some deep rest that can really recharge you to start studying/working again. put off all non-essential tasks, put your phone on do not disturb mode and allow your brain to rest. if you have slept little in the previous days, taking a nap will not be bad.

𝟯. set boundaries + practice self care ( 🌱 )

establish clear boundaries between work and personal life to prevent burnout from reoccurring. prioritize activities that promote physical and mental well-being, such as exercise, meditation, and hobbies. i personally love taking care of my body doing beauty treatments that make me feel better about myself. i also deep clean my room and change my bedsheets, if it's true that the mess in our room is a reflection of the mess in our mind i can't see why it can't go both ways: removing the mess from my room is like cleaning my head from the stress in it.

𝟰. rearrange priorities ( 🐝 )

delegate everything you can delegate, you can't do everything alone and it's normal to seek support from colleagues and family. reorganize yourself so you have a plan to follow as soon as you recharge your batteries. ask yourself what led to burnout, was it the workload? in that case breaking it into smaller tasks could make it less onerous. maybe it was it's difficulty? maybe asking for help or using some time for additional research might work. in short, prepare a realistic scheme to follow to tackle the task.

𝟱. seek support ( ❣️ )

talk to friends, family, or a therapist about your feelings and experiences to gain perspective and emotional support.

𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 hi everyone, it's no secret that i've posted very little in the last week, but unfortunately i experienced a bad burnout that incapacitated me for a few days. family circumstances, academic stress and the arrival of spring have added up to take away the strength to do anything from me, but i'm here to recover and here is a simple guide that i always follow when i find myself in these situations. on the one hand i'm happy tho, it's my first burnout since i started university, eight months ago now, i remember that when i was in high school they were much more frequent and long, i feel i've become much more stable.

[cjonesjr]

・﹒・ two roads

Summary: After your father racked up a huge bounty on him from being the leader of a crime gang, you finally got the courage to kill him. However, the Ghoul arrives intending to kill him unaware the man was already dead. He gives you two options- let him have the bounty and he'll offer you protection if you come with him, or be alone and at risk for other unsavory people to hunt you down.

Warnings: 18+, suggestive content, death, blood, coercion, flirty Cooper

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x GN!reader

Notes: H! I am now in the Fallout fandom thanks to the show. My only experience with Fallout was the mobile game Fallout Shelter lmfao played that on and off since 2017. Started a new vault tho! I got some show characters including The Ghoul >:)

Blood dripped down the knife as you stared at his lifeless corpse, your form hunched over, breathing heavy, eyes wide and frenzied, hair sticking up all over the place, staring down at the body as the red liquid stained and soaked into the floor beneath him.

You finally did it.

He wasn't a good father, but your mother helped curb his less savory habits. Well, she was gone now.

You only stayed with him out of obligation, but as the days wore on, so did he. He was born and raised up here, however your mother was a genuine Vault Dweller who left her vault and made a new life up here.

Including dating your father.

He started a small gang purely to find the people that had killed her, and ended up becoming one of the fiercest crime gang leaders in California. There was a high bounty on him and he was always on alert. Not around you though.

It was an easy stab to the heart.

You had never killed anyone before though- but your dad was the one who had raised you to protect yourself.

How ironic.

But you weren't a killer. You weren't used to being able to take someone's life with your own hands.

Things change.

You still could have sworn time stopped as you didn't move, still staring at the corpse. Should you feel bad? Guilty? Regret? Maybe. But you didn't. He wasn't a perfect father, you couldn't care less.

You didn't know how much time had passed before you heard the creaking of the front door open and steps on the floor. Whipping your body to face the source with the still bloody knife at the ready, the thing that walked through the door wasn't what you expected.

"Well now, it seems like I was too slow this time, usually I ain't" You heard of him, who didn't? He was a cowboy, ghoul bounty hunter- and the best in the country. You just didn't think he would ever cross your path despite your parents being involved with people like him. He was more a myth to you.

"Not much of a talker, eh? You his child I assume?" Still in shock over everything, you gave him a small nod as you must still look frenzied. He chuckled as he walked closer, yet you didn't move one inch, even as he gently grabbed your wrist that was holding the knife and tossed it onto the floor, plucking it from your hand with ease. You just watched as he smirked.

"Your first kill is always the roughest, don't worry though- you'll get used to it"

"Don't kill me" You meant to sound louder, firmer, it just came out as a whisper, a plea. Shaky, you watched as he just chuckled at your weakness. You may have just killed someone, but that didn't mean you didn't feel trauma from it.

"I ain't gonna kill ya, but I am claiming that bounty. Runnin' low on caps, I'm sure ya understand" A small part of you felt a bit calmer from his voice, you liked it in a very special way, but the survival part of your brain was stronger than the hormonal part, so you couldn't fully take it. You were still in shock after killing your father, after all.

"But- but I need those caps more" His eyebrow raised as he took you in, looking up and down, and it made you shiver in a way that wasn't out of fear.

"Oh really now? How about this-" He released you, causing you to stumble back a few steps and cradle your thankfully uninjured wrist.

"You let me have the bounty and I'll protect ya, meaning- you come with me" You narrowed your eyes at the last part. Protect you?

"Against what? Against who?" He was silent, telling you that it was something you certainly weren't dumb enough not to realize. After some time, it finally hit you"

"My dad's men..."

"Are not gonna be too happy to see their leader gone, killed by his only child nonetheless" The realization made your blood freeze, chills ran up your spine as you knew exactly who would go after you first and exactly how he would kill you.

"I can survive...I'll find a way" You were lying to yourself as there was no way you could live against your father's gang, but you didn't want to be protected by a stranger- who was a ghoul not to mention.

"Ok then" He stood right in front of you and leaned down- face only inches away- and put his mouth right next to your ear. Yet again, you shivered at his closeness, tingles going down your spine and at the same time, you could sense that something changed within him then.

"Don't come crying for me when you're bleeding out shot up like a shooting range" He whispered before slightly nipping at your ear and slowly pulling away, gauging your reaction. Heat consumed your entire face as you now felt the signs of arousal present in your body. Staring at him, you felt the overwhelming sense of attraction start to fester. Fuck- was he genuinely into you, playing some twisted game just to fuck with you, or trying to further manipulate you?

"I get a cut, seventy percent" Your voice was so shaky, between the arousal and the fact that he knew exactly what buttons to push, you couldn't believe you were going along with this. With him. But his face lit up at your inference of agreeing to let him protect you.

"Fifty" You then got right up to his ear, just like what he did.

"Sixty and final offer"

Hook.

"Or else I'll take my chances"

Line.

You bit his ear, giving it a small lick before pulling away.

Sinker.

His breath hitched as he looked at you with eyes full of nothing but lust and curiosity. He then suddenly grabbed your shoulders and slammed you against the closest wall, his lips ghosting yours. Your heart was hammering out of your chest as you waited in bated breaths, arousal spiking your sex.

"Come. With. Me" He was firm, but not angry. He was more...pent up, growing frustrated with you throwing back what he was giving you. You could tell he was hard without looking down.

"Something tells me there's a specific reason you want to protect me, isn't there, Ghoul?" Despite only knowing each other for less than ten minutes, you already felt comforted in his hold, and you both knew how to get under the other's skin.

The attraction was- self assured- mutual and instant.

Neither of you could or would deny it, just never admit it directly.

Instead, it would linger in the air, charged like lightening.

"And if so?" Now that the earlier tension was gone, you could fully take in all forms of him, including his accent. That accent was old, very old, so old that had to of been from pre-war. Nobody spoke like he did.

Nobody.

"I'll pack my things" Pushing him away, you walk towards your bedroom to gather a bag when you passed by your father's body and stopped.

"By the way- what part of him did they want?"

"The head"

"Go ahead, just please cover it. I...I don't want to see it" Shaking your head to rid you of that thought, you let him do...that as you ignored the sounds of mutilation as you put your best and favorites into a backpack. You were very selective about what you brought, since you know would forever be moving around. Going out into the main room again, you were surprised at what you saw, or rather, lack of. Instead of just covering the head up in some makeshift bag, he draped a curtain he ripped off from one of the rods and laid it over his body.

"Thought you didn't want to see it again at all. Now let's go, we're wasting daylight" The ball of fabric that was now connected to his belt swayed back and forth as he exited through the front door, stopping right before he walked onto the sand after he realized that you haven't moved.

"You comin'?"

[eds6ngel]

✮⋆｡°✩⋆˙ a christmas miracle

a 'when i kissed the teacher' spinoff.

summary: you and steve were in a weird situation. you weren't actively trying to get pregnant, but you weren't exactly being safe either. so, how will steve react when he opens his final christmas present?

warnings: dad!steve. mom!reader. fem!reader. afab!reader. 90s!au. mentions and allusions to sex. mentions of pregnancy. pet names. kissing. tons of crying. alena being too young to understand pregnancy (kinda cute tho). alena being a cutie pie as always. some worries over steve's reaction. but mostly fluff and comfort!! [1.9k].

author's note: hi everyone!! i am back!! my first semester of uni is finally over, so i can get back to fic writing a little more! i couldn't neglect my happy family like this, so i've tackled a pregnancy fic! i've never been pregnant, but i do wish to be in my life, so all of my research has been for my own benefit and utilised in this fic. if i'm inaccurate in any parts, please let me know for the benefit of the readers and myself!! ♡

It was hard not announcing the news to Steve. Having to attend your first scan without him was heartbreaking, but the look upon the nurse’s face after you told her you were going to wrap up the ultrasound photo, along with a card saying “Merry Christmas Daddy” and a pair of small, cream, woolen socks, just confirmed your decision was the right one.

You and Steve were in a sort of weird situation. You had stopped using protection, but weren’t in a position were you were actively trying to get pregnant. You agreed that any time from now was an okay time for the two of you to have a child, but also weren’t bothered if the pregnancy tests came back negative.

But, a little Christmas miracle decided to form inside of you, the test showing two lines on December 11th, 1999.

Steve and Alena had gone grocery shopping for an hour, the perfect opportunity for you to wrap Steve’s gift.

Rolling out the wrapping paper, you placed a grey, fluffy blanket in the centre, before laying on top the Christmas card which read:

Hi Daddy.

I’m six weeks old today!

I can’t wait to meet you soon! I’m planning to enter the world on August 20th, 2000.

My mom is keeping me very safe right now as I grow, but I’ll still be listening out for you from inside my home.

See you in nine months.

Love, your future child <3

And as you were about to place the ultrasound photo next to the cream baby socks you previous put underneath the card, your eyes started welling with tears once more.

Was it the hormones? Maybe. But, something in you felt this was all natural. You were growing a human life inside of you, one that has half of your DNA and the other half the love of your life’s. That was something to bask in the intense emotion of.

With everything laid out neatly, you reached over for the sellotape, folding over the edges and carefully sticking them in place.

Wrapping the gift in a pretty cream bow, matching the socks inside, and adding a label reading “To my darling Stevie,” you added it to the pile of increasing gifts in the corner of yours and Steve’s bedroom.

Now, just a week to go until he gets his surprise.

You cradle your stomach, despite the size not increasing at all yet, and whisper to your unborn child “A week and he’ll know, my love. Your beautiful existence will be known.”

“Mom! Dad! Wake up! Wake up!”

You are awoken by the sound of your bouncing ten-year-old, aggressively rocking your fiancé as he groans loudly, his eyes adjusting to the light peaking through the window.

“Mornin’ pumpkin,” he murmurs, you opening up one eye as Alena’s full set of brand-new adult teeth smile right at you.

“And what are you doing up so early, missy?” you ask, the clock on the bedside table next to Steve shining a bright 6:00 in the morning, illuminating the room in a red glow.

“Mom” she drags out, rolling her eyes playfully, “You know what day it is!”

You tap your chin lightly, playing along with the joke, “Hmm… I feel as if I may need a reminder.”

“It’s Christmas Mom! And I may or may not have seen all the presents you left underneath the tree…” her vocal pitch increases, looking away in a guilty look as Steve reaches up and pulls her down into his body, the girl screaming as he ruffles her hair.

“Did someone be naughty and peak underneath the tree?” he grits through his teeth, Alena shouting in a reply, “I didn’t mean to, I promise! I saw it on the way to your room!”

You begin to tickle her sides as Steve holds her in place against his chest, making the girl scream in delight loudly, “Is someone now on Santa’s naughty list?”

“Mom…” she pouts her lips, a grumpy expression adorning her face as you sigh sadly, “I know sweet cheeks, you don’t believe in him anymore.”

“I’m sorry…”

You hold out your arms as you wrap her in a warm hug, “Don’t be sorry, baby. I knew you would realise eventually. You’re getting too old!”

She gasps and looks into your eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, “I am not old! You and Dad are old.”

You start giggling in shock as Steve just opens his mouth wide, “You better watch yourself, pumpkin.”

“Yeah,” you hold up a finger in warning, before pointing it over to Steve, “Dad doesn’t like being reminded he’s in his mid-thirties.”

And now it is Steve’s turn to attack you, but instead with aggressive kisses, littering them up your neck and across your face lightly, Alena now old enough to understand the playful love between the two of you. “You’re almost thirty as well, you know.”

“Two more years to go, babe. I’m still in my prime development decade,” you smirk at him.

And it wasn’t just you who was developing.

A loud gasp can be heard along with the shredding of paper as Alena holds up her latest gift, “You actually got me it?”

For such a small gadget, the Barbie Digital Camera cost you $70, the most expensive gift yet, but maybe not the one which will cause the biggest reaction.

“Of course I did! It’s the one thing you kept pointing at in the magazine!”

She giggles with a bright smile, “Thank you! Thank you!”

She launches herself at you, the motherly instinct in you clutching onto your stomach to protect your unborn child, hoping Steve didn’t notice the movement. The surprise would be known in the next half an hour.

“And after you’ve taken your photos, we can connect it to Dad’s computer and see it come to life! How cool is that?”

“Can I take it to school?” she asks, clutching the box in her hands.

“I assume you can! But, just ask Mrs. Critchley before you take it in, okay?”

“Okay!” she smiles, plopping herself back down on the carpet to open the rest of her gifts.

Your hands began to sweat. Alena was all done opening her presents, patiently waiting for you and Steve to unwrap yours.

Steve let you attend to your gifts first. Everything from a brand-new necklace designed with a rose quartz, matching your engagement ring, to the latest Nokia phone, you were thankful for everything he had bought you, praising him with many gentle kisses and warm hugs.

Now, it was Steve’s turn. You specifically told him to leave one present until last, leading him to give you an eyebrow raise and a shrug before simply agreeing, used to your weirdness by now. You got him everything from a new cologne to a new pair of Nike shoes, the soles of his old pair wearing thin from how much he was working over the Christmas holidays.

But, after one final kiss, it was finally time.

“Can I open this now?” Steve jokes, the nerves deeply settling in your stomach. You don’t even know why you were worried, you had stopped using protection in mutual agreement, knowing kids could be a possibility from that result. There was just a voice in your head trying to convince you an awful reaction would occur.

“Uh, yeah… Yeah, you can.”

“Hey,” he puts an arm on your shoulder, “Why are you so nervous?”

You lightly chuckle, “You’ll find out once you open the gift.”

Even after all of these years, Steve still wasn’t the smartest. Verbal cues were not his strong suit, but my God could he read body language like a champ.

He gives you a confused look before unwrapping the cream-coloured bow, delicately tearing apart the paper as his eyes immediately notice the ultrasound scan.

He may be oblivious, but he isn’t that oblivious. He has one very similar in his bedside table drawer of his sweet ten-year-old daughter sat next to him.

The tears form at his eyes before he can even recognise them. Small sniffles enter the atmosphere as his hazel eyes make contact with you, “Are you serious?”

And the tears follow suit for you, nodding frantically as he leans across the floor to collect you in his arms, crying into your shoulder.

“How far along?” he mumbles into your shoulder, tears dripping onto the red fabric of your dress.

“Read the card and you’ll find out.”

Steve was too drawn into the ultrasound scan to even notice the card you had gotten him. Releasing from the hug, he keeps a gentle hand on the small of your back, picking up the card and carefully opening it, reading the words you had written, the tears increasing as he noticed it was from the perspective of his baby.

“Wha— How? When did you get this done?” he stutters out, still in complete shock of the entire moment.

“Pregnancy test has been in the bathroom trash can for two weeks. I was scared you were going to notice it for a while, but then I remembered it’s you, and you don’t notice anything,” you giggle, Steve not even bothered by the joking insult, too caught up in his own emotions, “And two Thursday’s ago, I didn’t go to work. Went to the hospital and got the scan, and just hung around Starcourt until the time I would normally come home.”

“Well, you fooled me,” he chuckles, leaning in for a kiss which you gladly accept, cupping his cheeks as you smile into it.

“I love you so much, beautiful girl. And I love the baby who is growing inside of you. You’re so strong. Your body is so strong. I just— I can’t wait. I can’t wait to meet them.”

His hand had migrated down to your stomach, gently cradling the unborn child inside of you.

Alena had finally looked up from her Etch-a-Sketch, noticing the tears falling down both yours and Steve’s cheeks, your hands holding tightly onto each side of his head as your foreheads were leant against each other, kneeling on the soft carpet of the living room.

“Mom? Dad? Why are you crying?”

Steve turns around to face his daughter, you looking softly into her eyes, “Because Mom is having a baby, sweetie.”

Steve passes her the ultrasound scan, her face scrunching up in confusion as she points at it, “Why is it just a black blob?”

Steve begins laughing as his head falls onto your shoulder, sweetly rubbing up and down the sides of your waist.

“Because when a baby is first made, it starts out as a black blob and then grows into the full size baby we all know and love,” you explain gently to her.

“Hmm…” she takes in, before asking her next question, “But how did it get there?”

Your eyes widen as Steve’s hands stop on your waist, refusing to lift his head and look at his daughter.

You smile through the awkwardness, remembering that her sex education lessons would start in a matter of months, “You’ll find out soon, baby.”

thank you ever so much for reading!! do you guys want any more pregnancy related fics? i really want to do some research into post-partum for myself, so do you want me to skip straight to that, or tackle other things like morning sickness, gender reveal, baby shower, stuff like that? feel free to let me know!! ♡

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 @frostandflamesfanfic @tlclick73 @steveshairspray @superlegend216

[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]

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 11 -- 1 OUTTA 3 AIN'T BAD

Preamble! I had a HELL of a day yesterday, woof. So if this comes out garbled, y'all will know why. I'll try to keep this short, but... I'm likely lying to myself, let's see.

TW: FORCEBOOK -- I'm going to say a few words about ForceBook below, so if words about ForceBook are not your thing, please move along!

I'm gonna start this post with thoughts on the three main pairs, and then get some last little thoughts out at the end.

a) I have a feeling that I don't need to write THAT much, because the lovelies @lurkingshan (here), @neuroticbookworm (here), and @chicademartinica (here) all covered the top points of this episode nicely: this episode was a BostonNick WIN. On Nick, dear Chica nailed it so hard that I will have to link AND screenshot her m'fucker:

And Boston, BOSTON, MY MAN! MY MAN! MY MAN!

(Nick says the first line below, with Boston saying the second:)

Fuckin' a. There are two reasons why I STANNED BostonNick in this episode.

1) First of all, as you see above, Nick still had to be a tiny bit of a shit. Nick was in Atom's shoes once. Nick remembers the feeling of having feelings for someone who didn't have feelings back for him. So Nick took a little passive aggressive dig at Boston by calling Boston's sex and predilections "terrible."

And Boston shot back at Atom -- and maybe indirectly at Nick -- with his perspective on sex: "[h]ow can you love me after sleeping together just once?"

I've written before (and forgive the foggy mom brain, but I believe @emotionallychargedtowel has also written on this), that the hormonal experience of sex can impact people in incredibly different ways. Some people, like Boston, feel no connection with the person he's slept with after sex; other people, like Nick and Atom, catch feelings. All of it is normal.

What happened in the dialogues that we were privy to earlier in the series vis à vis Nick and Atom was that WE, the audience, heard THEIR perspectives, and the narratives allowed US to contemplate sympathizing for them -- by playing off of a general assumption that an audience would JUDGE people like Boston for having casual sex. Boston's positions on sex (heh) pissed off people like Nick and Atom! So Boston got fuckin' wiretapped and smeared by these dudes.

However: BOSTON REMAINED CONSISTENT, CONSTANT, AND ACCOUNTABLE to his position, AT ALL TIMES, that he wasn't someone who caught feelings after casual sex. I am sure for many sectors of the Only Friends audience, that this may not have been easy to parse, especially considering the very early and popular judgements levied against Boston. (For the record, I never took Boston as a predator, and I established my thoughts early in the series run on this as rhetoric about Boston's "badness" around sex was flying around. I'm a Khai girlie. Boys, girls, and non-binary friends can be playas, too, and deserve to enjoy their sex lives without judgement.)

What I UTTERLY admire about the pace of this series vis à vis BostonNick is that it took its TIME in establishing Boston's AGENCY to be able to LEVY his position on sex SO STRONGLY and CLEARLY, with Nick's support. While much of the series allowed the popular and condemning rhetoric to swirl around Boston, this scene put a fuckin' NAIL in that coffin. I believe this scene said: you can't only listen to one side, the crying, sobbing side of a person who wants another person after a one-night stand. You HAVE to listen to both sides. The hormonal aspect of wanting to be close to your sex partner is valid, but also -- if the other side is talking, you MUST listen to what the other side is SAYING.

Boston was always clear about his position -- and Nick and Atom HAD to take responsibility for their unreasonable demands from Boston after their one-night stands with him; unreasonable, because Boston CLEARLY stated to the both of them that he wasn't a relationship guy, and would not be forced into it. And both of them ignored those statements, and all hell broke loose, TWICE.

2) HOWEVER! Boston realized, after spending more time with Nick than with any other sex partner, and after he lost his friends, that he HAD caught feelings for his fave, his Nick! Remember last week, when I got all mewdy that MONOGAMY might be the dramatic device that the show would use to "redeem" Boston? BLECH.

DAMN, did this episode SPIN THAT AROUND for me. GOD, I LOOOOOOOOOOVED THAT CONVO WITH NICK AND BOSTON ABOUT FIGURING OUT THEIR STATUS!!!!!

Paraphrasing! "I want to spend the next few months loving on you," or whatever Boston says?! FUCK, YES! Nick, all OVER this, setting boundaries, allowing himself TIME and SPACE to figure out what's best for him, with both Dan and Boston! SHIT, MARK PAKIN SHOWED UP! Omg, BostonNick for the win.

My head's spinning, because that was seriously one of the BEST conversations I've seen written in a drama about the consideration of a relationship and a status check. That impressed me as much as Pharm asking Dean for a break in UWMA -- and then Pharm straight up LIVING HIS LIFE, BBQ pork grills and all, without Dean for a few months.

And. Boston was cool with Nick's boundaries and thoughtfulness. Boston knows what he wants, but he's not gonna push Nick into anything. Boston knows time is ticking, but will wait for Nick's answer.

It was so cool to see. My heart was full.

So that pairing, the NeoMark/BostonNick pairing -- SOLID.

b) Moving on! Thanks to @lurkingshan, I got clarity on what the fuq was happening with Sand and Boeing. At first, I thought Boeing was a little SHIT for showing up to Sand and stirring unnecessary drama in his ex's life after getting rejected by Mew. (Mond, though. 🤤)

But, as Shan pointed out to me in my insane day yesterday: Sand has a problem saying no to dudes. (Homey, RELATE.) So like, then they all go back to Ray's place, and Ray KNOWS that Sand has trouble setting boundaries and saying no, because that's what Sand's mom said to Ray, but also, that's the way Sand's been engaging with Ray himself, and Ray will DEF know what will be up if Sand gets closer to Boeing again, and Ray's like, uh, come into my pool so we can nip this in the bud?, but no, we know what Jojo's thinking, so.

I mean, have sex already, you three, chop chop. I see the FirstKhao gworls on my dash not happy about not having a complete episode of SandRay peace, which I get, but also, this continues to reiterate my bleh on Sand, which like -- get a backbone, Sand. You have a literal boyfriend now, and you're still not saying no to dudes? What if Mild strolled in for a foursome? (NO, DON'T TURN THAT DOWN, SAND, DON'T.) But I'm just saying -- maybe listen to a person in your life, like your mom, to set some boundaries, like your roommate. I'm throwing my hands up in the air on this one, but at least we may get our threesome, and, Mond.

c) Okay, last pair! TopMew. For a hot second, I was impressed with Top.

I liked this, ::waves index finger in a circle::, this worked.

But I have decided. I'm done with ForceBook. I just -- please remember the TW, FB girls. I'll get back to TopMew in a second as characters, but this was my first ForceBook show, and it might be my last. Watching them is as exciting to me as breaking down Amazon boxes.

We have seen Mew waffle this whole dang series. (WELCOME BACK, THE ONLY FRIENDS VENGEFUL WAFFLE! HEART YOU, @starryalpacasstuff!)

And there was more Mew waffling, more talking to moms, and Top is just like, I'm gonna peace out, DEUCES, and then, OF COURSE, HE COMES BACK INTO THE KITCHEN, LIKE HE NEVER LEFT THE HOUSE AFTER SAYING HE WOULD (I cackled), and then they're together in bed. And now they'll move in together.

This was a BIT of a storyline ride. But -- and I HAVE TO ADMIT, part of this is my tiredness talking -- I'm just kinda bored of ForceBook at this point. Do I actually get the sense that Top is *excited* about Mew moving in? Do I get the sense that Top and Mew *love* each other? I.... don't! Is it the chemistry between ForceBook? I.... I think so? I think so!

And, so... Mew will try to convince Ray to accept Top in the next episode? I dunno. (Episode 12 previews, we've learned to distrust them.) As much as I want to try to sit here to analyze TopMew at this point, I kinda just wanna throw my hands up in the air and be like, I'll leave these characters to fiction. And I think it's because I was unfortunately spoiled by the FANTASTIC chemistry emanating out of Neo, Papang, Mark, First, and Mond in this episode (MARK! MONNND. PAPANGGGG.).

I have to admit it, and I'm sorry to admit it. ForceBook do nothing for me, acting-wise and chemistry-wise, and I am done struggling with analyzing TopMew. I'll let 'em be.

d) Last thoughts! Bye, Cheum. We haven't had enough of Nonnie in this series, and I wanna see Nonnie as April dump Cheum's ass and break shit in episode 12, the way Nonnie's real-life brother goes and breaks shit on social media. Way to hold no one, including yourself, truthfully accountable, Cheum.

(What in the. I would love a Soonvijarn episode on Jojo's thoughts on Cheum one day.)

Anyway, bye, B.

THAT'S ALMOST IT! Ephemerality? I hope Boston makes a whole bunch of righteous new homies in NYC. This whole series has made me sick and tired of proximate friends, lol. We'd better see Mond suck face with Khao and First. Andddd, bleep, bloop, that's all I got!

HOME BASE NEXT WEEK, FAM!

[EPHEMERALITY SQUAD, second-to-last weekend meta for ya! @slayerkitty (SK... I am so tired, lol), @ranchthoughts, @chickenstrangers, @twig-tea, @neuroticbookworm, @lurkingshan, @distant-screaming, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @thatgirl4815]

[venerawrites]

Heya 👋

Can you do a pregnant s/o with neji, kiba, shino, Gaara??

Have a great day ❤️👋🌺

author's note: this is such a cute request, I really loved writing it! I actually wrote Gaara finding out his s/o is pregnant, where I kind of covered how he will be during the pregnancy, so I decided to cover only Neji, Kiba and Shino for this one. Hope you enjoy! <3

➤  Neji

Given this is Neji we are talking about, I assume his s/o's pregnancy was more or less planned.

He and his partner have been trying to conceive for a while, since they've been married for a year already and the elders of his clan were already pestering them about children.

So when his s/o told him they are pregnant, he felt both rush of excitement and relief.

Probably one of the calmest and most composed men when it comes to his partner's pregnancy.

I imagine he has been preparing for this moment for a while by reading various books, consulting with some of the older women of his clan, as well doing his own research during his free time.

Definitely more ready and knowledgeable than his s/o about it.

I have always been of the opinion that Neji is very traditional guy, who dreams of having a family of his own.

As such, he is overprotective from Day 1.

He will accompany his s/o everywhere, help them with chores and would try to stop them from doing any missions straight away, worried that the risk of losing either of them is way too big. (I say try, because he will probably be unsuccessful till the last few months)

Has a tendency to be a bit paranoid and scold his s/o if he ever see them doing even something by themselves.

I feel his s/o would find all his efforts and worries somewhat adorable in the beginning, but as their pregnancy progress and their hormones start going crazy, they will start losing their patience with him.

I imagine the second half of the pregnancy may be a bit stressful for both of you (and everyone around you tbh!), since his s/o won't hold back their complaints about Neji's behaviour and in turn he will be annoyed about why is his s/o angry, when all he tries to do is to take care of them.

Treats his partner like an absolute ROYALTY tho

His s/o want a silk pillowcase, because otherwise they can't fall asleep? He will go around the whole Hyuga compound to find them one.

His s/o is craving his famous vanilla ice cream in the middle of the night? He is spending the hours preparing it from scratch for them.

Overall, his s/o's pregnancy would go quite easy, as he is very attentive and already knows quite a bit about what to expect and how to handle his s/o's mood swings.

➤  Kiba

Where do I even start with this one?

Initially, when his s/o told him they were pregnant, he was absolutely perplexed.

He knew they were not always super strict with the protection, but so far they have always been safe from incidents.

Like, he is not against becoming a dad - quite the opposite, he would love to have a house FULL with little Inuzuka babies, BUT he just was not sure he was ready at that point.

He is not really sure how to prepare tho?

Unlike Neji, he is not in the mood to go around and spend days reading boring books about childbirth and pregnancies, neither he felt comfortable talking with his family about it.

I imagine he is the type of guy that just grab his s/o's hand and give them a reassuring smile, saying: "It's okay, we are going to figure it out together!"

And they do. The beginning is a bit messy, both him and his s/o don't really know what to expect and if they should expect anything at all at this early stage.

I don't think he is going to treat his partner any differently, because for the first few months they look pretty much the same as before, so in his mind they should be perfectly capable to continue going on missions, do chores etc.

His s/o's period of throwing up almost every night and feeling sick every time they take a bite of food COMPLETELY throws him off and he is phoning Sakura almost every day, asking her to come to his house and check his s/o

When his partner gets their mood swings, their house becomes almost like a battlefield - poor man doesn't really know why his s/o is behaving that way and would constantly be baffled by his s/o's behaviour

"Why are you screaming at me? Don't you dare throwing that pillow-Ow! Dammit!"

I imagine that he will have to seek his mother's and sister's help in the later stage of the pregnancy, it is just TOO MUCH to handle

That doesn't stop him from wanting to have another kid pretty soon after his s/o gives birth to their first one - now that he has seen how they glow when they are pregnant, he plans to keep them like that quite often

➤  Shino

Our favourite boy Shino... his s/o is honestly lucky to have him during their pregnancy.

When they first told him they were pregnant, he didn't show much of an emotion, other than letting his lips curve in a small smile, before resting a gentle kiss against his s/o's temple.

He was definitely happy about the news, but as I always imagined him as a quite laid back individual, his reaction is actually pretty calm and relaxed compared to many other Naruto men.

In the beginning, his behaviour doesn't change much - he tries not to intervene too much with his s/o's freedom and let them do whatever they want.

If they want to continue doing missions - that's fine by him, even tho he may ask the Hokage to send him with them if possible.

If they want to stay at home - he doesn't mind taking a complete care of them, if this is how they are going to feel comfortable.

He is very attentive and always listen to his s/o's wishes and needs.

For this reason I actually think his partner is going to have pretty easy pregnancy - they would feel relaxed and comfortable in Shino's care, adopting his view that parenthood would just come naturally to them.

I don't even think they would have any pregnancy symptoms, even at the late stage - their behaviour and relationship with Shino remains pretty much the same. (I mean, even when hormonal, you can't really be angry at this softie, can you?)

Also, I imagine he may propose during his s/o pregnancy? He had always knew he wanted to officially make them their partner, so this felt like the perfect time to tie the knot tbh.

cc artwork: Pengzhen Zhang

[mystreet-liveblog]

Its not even the voices Aphmau needed to do in early seasons. I just have troubles where I take shows really seriously, so the no warning / no consent kissing or the people trying to find out everything about Aphmau's love life is just frustrating for me.

Autistic people taking things too seriously, what else is new?

I hear that, I too have the “tism”

But on the rewatch I kind of read it differently. It makes sense that Aph’s friends would be concerned about her love life since she hasn’t been interested in anyone since high school, her mom is notorious for hating boys, and half her male friends have crushes on her and she doesn’t reciprocate any of them. It’s an interesting situation and I know I’d be concerned, especially if I was Katelyn or KC

Katelyn sees Aph as a sister and knows that she’s had bad experiences with boys in the past (Gene and Ein, though I haven’t gotten to Ein in the rewatch yet so I may be misremembering some details) so of course she’d be suspicious of Laurance and the others across the street, Aaron who’s super suspicious and used to be a bully, and Zane who is literally Zane hahah

Meanwhile, KC is obsessed with shipping and she stands as an outlier who actively analyzes relationships and pairs them together in her mind as possible relationships, with her favorites being expressed more openly and verbally like a hyperfixation. It’s problematic but also not unheard of, and I can relate to analyzing your friends and deducing their compatibility (though not so much pressuring them into pursuing that compatibility :/). In the end she just wants to see all her friends happy, and she projects her own love of romantic love onto them

(KC actually reminds me a bit of Nepeta from Homestuck but that’s a conversation for a different day)

I do think the lack of consent coming from Laurance and his roommates is very weird and disturbing, but the conscious narrative seems aware that it’s problematic while the subconscious narrative plays it off as a joke. It’s not really that funny, but I guess that’s just part of the anime tropiness of the season.

The entire show, or at least the first seasons of MyStreet and PDH, was made to feel anime tropey and unfortunately that kind of nonconsensual humor is very anime. It’s a little nuanced tho that the rest of the show explores the “after they get together” situations rarely seen in romance anime, though, as well as abandoning the nonconsensual humor in favor of villainizing it and using it to characterize antagonists (sorry Laurance fans your fav is problematic <3)

I actually kind of realized through my rewatch that Laurance was the main instigator of these inappropriate actions and it’s really his own problem to work through. The rest follow him with the frat boy mindset and only come to their senses when actually thinking on their own lol

Like, I remember as a kid there being so many jokes about Travis touching peoples butts, but as far as I remember from my rewatch they were all accidents! That’s kind of funny actually! But the normalization of predatory behavior is very weird in S1 and I’m glad it’s gone in S2

In PDH S1, it’s only slightly justified by the students all being literal children who are working through their hormones and poor coping mechanisms. Both Laurance and Garroth kiss Aphmau without her consent and then swear her to secrecy, which is toxic as hell and its protrayed as such. Gene even threatens to kiss her in front of Aaron which is a whole other thing we don’t need to discuss at length cause I’m sure you get the point by now

But PDH-Aaron notably asks permission every time he does anything romantic with Aph and it’s sweet. In S1 of MyStreet, he does kiss her after the play without verbal consent, but it’s implied she did at least nonverbally consent in later episodes when discussing what happened. Regardless, that sort of content in S1 isn’t touched upon as the story goes on which makes it a lot better to me, and it shows the growth of the author alongside her characters

WOAH— SORRY FOR THE LONG RESPONSE!!!! I just found this topic interesting!!!! Hope you have fun reading this MOUNTAIN wow—

[miz-orque]

Long Post

Sooo here's my silly little Monsoon concept in the Cyberpunk universe. This took some time, but I had a lot of fun doing it. You'll find a few things repeated on paper as my thought process was a little all over the place. The notes and layout on the pages may be a little unorganised. What's written on paper is reflected in the text, plus extra.

Yeah, this is longer than I thought lol so it's really appreciated if you do take the time to read it. I think I went a little ham 👀;

Apologies for image quality. I still have yet to get a scanner.

Cyberpunk!Monsoon.

General info

Typically, I would fashion him in: an Edgerunner's jacket (which is generally a mix of military armour and pedestrian materials woven together (this jacket is the Valentinos dual-weave Edgerunner)), simple black yoros and yoru no samurai kicks - the last two items being reminiscent of his ninja design in his canon universe. His utility belt and sais are also kept the same, tho the end of the sai's pommel glows when in use for combat.

He has a multitude of implants and cybernetics which include:

Memory boost - optimises sync between the brain and cyberware. An additional neuro chip implanted in his frontal lobe allows him full control of his unique cybernetic arms, including detaching and reattaching his arms, and control of his hands if they are several metres away when detached.

Self-ice - prevents him from getting a neuro virus.

Kerenzikov boost system - essentially a reflex booster

Custom Kiroshi optics: the Oracle (more details of this later)

(outdated) magnetic segmented cybernetic arms where each segment has a neuro link for full control (more details of this later)

Second heart - if his current heart stops beating, the second one activates.

Adrenal boosters - helps body maintain performance under pressure (in game stats detail less stamina usage when engaging in melee)

Micro rotors - increases attack speed

Adreno-trigger - increases attack speed for several seconds whe entering combat

Synaptic accelerator - a neuroprocessor that regulates hormonal balance during threatening situations (in game time is perceived slower for a few seconds when in combat. This implant can be used repeatedly after a 60 second cool down, but he's not looking to have a fight for longer than a minute)

Sub-dermal armour - exactly as it sounds - armour beneath the skin. He has this installed on his neck, torso, back and legs (before they were replaced)

Proxi-shield - the closer an attacking enemy is, the less damage they deal

Bionic joints (eventually replaced) - support of joints. He had this in his legs.

Dense marrow (eventually replaced) - increased power behind melee attacks. He had this in his legs

Dermal implant of a Tyger Claw tattoo - This implant directly links the user's optical implant to the weapon's system, offering real-time data-tracking of the weapon info - he only has this because he was a member of Tyger Claws for a few years, but he decided to keep it as he found it useful and for sentimental reasons

Fortified ankles (eventually replaced) - allows for greater distance covered when jumping

Iron lungs - is able to take in and utilise more oxygen. This was useful when he had his organic legs. This cybernetic has become rather redundant to him now that he's more metal than meat, tho he finds it useful for when he's smoking, he doesn't cough, however they're due for a cleaning from his habit.

Blood pump - supplies body's cells quickly and efficiently with oxygen - again no longer required. He eventually gets this removed

Further info

In this canon, Monsoon has albinism. His original eyes were replaced at a young age due to his poor vision and he received dermal implants to protect his sensitive skin from UV radiation.

Originally, his cyber optics were designed after his real eyes. These were standard optics that allowed him to see as the average person. The eyes were later replaced with Kiroshi the Oracle optics when he was recognised as a competent attack dog. These new eyes, however, were again based on his real eyes. He did not obtain his custom black and red optics until he joined Tyger Claws

The Oracle line allows the user to detect enemies (even under cover) within 17 m, turrets and cameras within 35 m and explosives and traps within 26 m, as well as 10x optical zoom in. He later got these functions upgraded when he opted to change their appearance. They were eye wateringly expensive.

The cyber threading on his face (the lines) are based on the veins surrounding his eyes in his original MGR concept art.

Likewise, the barcode on his forehead from his original concept, has been repurposed as evidence of being an unfortunate victim of human trafficking. Human trafficking exists across the globe in the Cyberpunk (CP) universe. The barcode that was tattooed on his forehead as a child was produced for the underground market to audit their stock. These markets are also owned by corporations who donate some of the profit made to charities (to look good to the general public), to law makers (for manipulation) and to crime syndicates (as pay).

As previously stated, Monsoon obtained custom black and red Kiroshi optics when he joined Tyger Claws. He thought they looked intimidating and cool. He was 15. And he still stands by this decision in his 40s. The black and red are also based on his MGR concept art.

For the record, Monsoon's unique eyes and visor in his original MGR concept design are some of my favourite things about him. Respectfully, these were omitted as I felt they didn't completely suit the environment I placed him in for this au. Sure, visors exist in CP, and of course there are characters like the Maelstrom group and even River (2077) that have robust optics, however:

Monsoon in this canon doesn't work as a corpo cyborg based in Denver with henchborgs under him; he is the henchborg and he's really fucking good at it

His visor holds his electromagnetic generator. In this canon, he doesn't have the ability to separate his entire body, just his arms. It would be redundant for him to have it unless he wears it for the aesthetics. I'm on team Practical Monsoon here so...

Maelstrom essentially believe in transhumanism. Monsoon does not believe in this (him becoming a cyborg in MGR is a consequence of him not wanting to die) and the glowing eyes would give his position away if he's being stealthy.

I think River's too broke to get a better looking eye lol. Monsoon may not be rolling in it, but at least he can afford eyes that provide wider perioral vision and allows him to blink his eyelids.

I just wanted to show off the emotions in his eyes. Can't do that if he's looking like: ⚫👃⚫ "I luv u"

I've designed him bulbous eyeball connecting visors that help increase his field of vision to act as his CP au visor. (A little on the fence with this)

Regarding his arms, their design is outdated. Further information will be provided later in the post, tho I thought I'd keep this here as this was used as reference for myself.

Ken doll Mons and his bs (backstory obvs)

Born in 2031 in Cambodia, Monsoon grew up in poverty. He was abducted as a young child and sold in the black market to an organised crime syndicate. Originally, he was going to be used as an actor for the growing extreme braindance (XBD) market, however, due to his aggressive and tenacious nature, he was taken to be trained as an attack dog instead.

Mention of a several years' mission is present, but this will be touched upon later. The two images are of Monsoon before and after this mission.

Pre-mission:

Most of his body is organic, tho he has a number of internal implants (as mentioned previously)

As stated, unlike his original canon design, the additional segments are omitted. Due to CP lore, and considering Monsoon's upbringing, he would have succumb to cyberpsychosis ages ago (would have gone on a spree like James Norris in Edgerunners). A super bog standard definition of cyberpsychos is a condition where the person dissociates from society when they have too many implants and not a great support system (if they even have one). (It's a theory that David's support system is the reason why his tolerance for something as extreme as his sandevistan was high). If the chassis was kept, I would have had to abide by this rule; Monsoon at this point would have been a slender version of Adam Smasher. (Not a bad idea, but that's literally what he is in MGR but with MG lore in place). Omitting his chassis meant that there was more freedom to explore the world of CP with Monsoon. Also I wanted to see him in sneakers.

Also, his design wouldn't suit the Night City (NC) environment. In his original canon, he's the only WoD member that isn't wearing a coat. In NC, he would need to be naked to fully utilise his abilities. Not to mention, the city itself being so busy, I feel as if his magnetism would cause some damage to certain technology, if his segments don't catch onto a vehicle or a building or a fellow cyborg's butt. If anything, reference of his original design (torso and legs) would be for cosmetic purposes.

Post-mission:

He lost his pelvis and legs during the mission

As he was out in the desert at the time of this incident, his legs were replaced with robust mechanical legs provided by a nomad ripperdoc.

His legs were later replaced with a sleeker and more modern design. He also got that Mr Studd installed 😉

His cyber legs also include reinforced tendons (can literally double jump/jump great heights), Jenkin's tendons (accelerates sprinting for a few seconds - recovery time is just as quick when he's not sprinting), fortified ankles (jump great distances) and lynx paws (quiet footsteps). These are to mimic some of the attributes he has in his original canon.

His cyber arms are eventually replaced with an upgraded and custom pair.

He has cyberpsychosis. Treatment includes therapy, medication and being around his support system regularly. Of course, due to the nature of his work, slaughter does help relieve the aggression he gets from his psychosis.

After being sold to an organised crime syndicate to become an XBD actor, his aggressive nature had them think he would be better suited as a protector. He was repurposed to become an attack dog. For fun, he was given a pair of sais to train with, tho his mentor was compassionate enough to train him well. Tho he was born in Cambodia and spent his early childhood there, he was migrated to Japan after being sold. He spent the rest of his childhood serving the Yakuza as their favoured attack dog. From 15, he was stationed at Night City, being a body guard for a high ranking Yakuza member, but he decided to join Tyger Claws instead.

Additional notes:

The crime syndicates involved are primarily a mix of Triad and Yakuza members, smaller groups and groups outside of Asia are also involved, taking advantage of the state of Cambodia (it's not great). Particular corps are also involved and it's rumoured the Khmer Rouge may also be poking their noses into this black market (they exist in the CP universe. Like in our real world history, they did have their influence, however they were expelled from Cambodia and ended up ruling over Laos in the turn of the 21st century) in hind sight, Monsoon was pretty lucky

He was sold at the age of five.

The XBD market involves things like murder, torture, sexual assault - basically any instance that involves very extreme negative emotions (and is obvs very illegal). Monsoon would have likely been put up for murder and maybe even have cyberpsychosis induced on him

The Yakuza viewed Monsoon as disposable, but thought to have him at least trained in fighting. When his teacher taught him how to use the sai (which he picked up quickly), the members he often interacted with saw his potential. On the field, Monsoon was aggressive.

He was named Monsoon because he was purchased during the season. The name stuck because of his extreme behaviours: eerily calm when he's not in a fight, frightfully violent when he is.

His first implant were his eyes. The following cybernetics were implanted on him without his knowledge ie he woke up one day with his hand replaced with a cybernetic one lol. He freaked

When he arrived in Night City, he offed the Yakuza member he was meant to protect and joined Tyger Claws swiftly after. It was rumoured that this particular was to be disposed of once a negotiation with affiliate groups was made. Monsoon didn't care and killed him anyway. He's never forgiven them for what they did to him.

Because of his upbringing, he speaks Japanese fluently. Being the favoured attack dog, he wasn't required to learn any additional languages, especially with the advent of the translator, however, he did take up learning English when he learned he was going to visit California for an unknown amount of time. Much to his chagrin of learning the common conversational sentences English, when he arrived at Night City, particularly Japantown, he was disappointed that everyone around him was speaking Japanese. That didn't stop him from actively learning tho. Unfortunately, he doesn't remember much Khmer if at all.

The crummy tattoo dermal implant on his back depicts Reahu, the demon king in Cambodian mythology. It's described to be a head without a body and devours the sun and moon, but because of its lack of body (and therefore stomach), it's a perpetual cycle of devouring these celestial bodies.

His stoic and serious nature proved him to be a valuable member to the Tyger Claw gang, getting some recognition from high ranking members, including a glance or two from the up-and-coming fixer, Wakako Okada. He was given a few private jobs, one of which awarded him his extraordinarily unique magnetic arms at around the age of 18. Tho his peers didn't care for the attention he received, a small group of Tyger Claws grew jealous of him, even denouncing him as a member for being an outsider.

During a mission out, the small group turned on him, disabling his arms and taking advantage of his shock. He did defend himself to the best of his abilities, however, he was outnumbered and beaten to near death. Before completely blacking out, he called Wakako.

Once recovered and his arms repaired, he left Tyger Claws and sought vengeance on those that tried to kill him. No longer a member, he happily attacks any member that so much as looks at him funny.

Additional notes:

His position in the gang would have been pretty much the same in his original canon. He did participate in some drug dealing and trafficking, however he enjoyed fighting the most.

He was out cold for a couple days when he was picked up by Wakako and taken care of by a doctor of her choosing

Monsoon was growing tired of the gang anyway and thought he would be successful if he left. The group that attacked him provided him a really good reason to leave

He wanted to remove the Tyger Claws tattoo on his back, but decided against it as he gave it a new meaning: continuously devouring the clan

It's an exaggeration to say that he attacks any TC member if they look at him funny. He attacks them if they touch him in any way, shape or form.

Despite the fact he was a member for about five years, he has never crossed paths with Jimmy. Jimmy was locked away being a cringe teenager editing edgy braindances and wearing black eyeliner.

Ze arms

Gifted his magnetic arms at 18, adapting to fully cybernetic arms was a challenge, especially with the unique ability to desegment at will. Tho they are rumoured to be of Arasaka make, his provider advised it was from an underground yet promising corporation.

Previous arms

Neural connection between brain, arms and segments.

Powerful electromagnetism, however best performed away from the busier parts of Night City

Electromagnetic generator located in shoulder joint.

Silicone connection inside and outside of elbow.

Upper half of arm matches skin tone. Forearms and hands are black (right) and red (left).

Palm and fingertips padded; sensors are quite sensitive

Range began at 10 metres, but increased to 15 when his arms were repaired

New and current arms

Possess the same elements as the previous arms, but with a sleek design

Arms are completely black apart from the left forearm and hand being red.

Generator hidden in shoulder

Fingertips have highly sensitive sensors

Edge of segments glow red when in use (when he gets his magnet on)

Carbon fibre material

Faster movement

Range is about 30 metres max.

Additional notes:

The arms are quite expensive. He has to visit a reputable doctor that is well educated in electromagnetics and whatever the fuck else his arms possess because they're pretty insane

It took him a good month to get used to using fully cybernetic arms and even long to actually master the use of its magnetic abilities. He would say about a year.

The underground corporation used both Arasaka and Militech to craft the arms. Monsoon's unknowingly a guinea pig, however he does eventually meet the people behind these.

Said people provided him with the new arms

He exclusively uses his magnetic abilities in combat. At least, that's what he says. Monsoon has used his abilities to get something out of reach, get something from another room, and trip Jimmy (when he didn't like him) - now he uses them to pull Jimmy towards him

Sundowner

Monsoon became a solo mercenary after he left Tyger Claws. Mainly working with Wakako, he would sometimes do gigs with other solos. More often than not, he would find himself working alongside this heavyweight merc, Sundowner. At first, he found him to be rather loud and obnoxious, but eventually he found him to be a worthy and competent ally to the point he's glad to see him in his group of mercs.

Additional notes:

They met for the first time during a meeting with a fixer at Tom's Diner. Monsoon mistook him for a patron as Sundowner was chowing down on a burger and commenting loudly about the music. He wasn't particularly excited to learn that he would be working alongside him for this mission

They only ever hang out at bars or eating establishments, and the occasional visit to a braindance club.

Okay, maybe sometimes they visit Dogtown for the thrill and chaos

Monsoon's been to Sundowner's humble abode once for bbq. It's in the Badlands

They once infiltrated a Scavs base because Sundowner thought one of them stole his keys to his truck. They killed them all. They did not find his keys because he suddenly remembered where they were kept.

They once got into a random scuffle with Sixth Street

And the Voodoo Boys

And the Valentinos

And the Animals

And Tyger Claws (Monsoon enjoyed that one)

All started by Sundowner.

Sundowner is gun heavy in this universe, only using Bloodlust when he wants to get messy, but keep his hands clean.

Of course, Sundowner has the Gorilla Arms cybernetic that grants him immense strength as well as the Reinforced Tendons implants

Coming from Alabama, Monsoon's not quite familiar with the terms Sundowner uses that isn't Night City lingo. Sometimes he uses his translator which isn't the most reliable due to Sundowner's accent. He did eventually grow accustomed to his way of speaking

Sundowner most definitely did partake in the Corporate War of 2069.

Sun became a fan of Jimmy's unnecessarily violent XBD edits

The above drawings are of them in their twenties

Legs and mission

The mission

At around 25 years old, Monsoon with Sundowner was given a secret gig by their mysterious fixer. Like most gigs, survival was not guaranteed, however, the payout for this gig was huge if they did survive. This gig involved them and a small group of other mercs, techies and netrunners to travel outside Night City across the country. The mission was so secretive, contact outside anything that did not revolve around the mission was forbidden, this meant that kin were left in the dark about the whereabouts of their loved ones.

The gig proved challenging; some members lost their lives. Monsoon almost lost his life being involved in an incident that had him lose the lower half of his body. He carried out the rest of the mission in a set of robust cybernetic legs that included storage for his stoma bags. The difficulty of this mission did solidify and strengthen his friendship with Sundowner.

After the mission, which ended up lasting five years, and of course receiving his massive payout, Monsoon got himself a new set of legs, a built in bladder, rectum and a Mr Studd (with Jimmy's assistance). He also developed cyberpsychosis which is handled by his medication, therapy sessions and time spent with loved ones.

Additional notes:

The payout was six digits

The mission itself was arduous. Flat lining tended to be the bulk of the mission, tho the men would argue it felt like an underground war. Really, it was corpo shit trying to keep governments outside of their business. Infiltration and assassination proved more difficult than initially thought, especially when theft of technologies was involved

Monsoon did find it difficult to not get in contact with the people he cared about during his gig. He obviously worried about Jimmy the most because he's a danger magnet. He forced him to get the Shock-n-Awe implant as a means of defence, but he also told Jimmy not to wait for him.

Monsoon's lower body was crushed by a massive structure that collapsed after a bomb went off.

He often wrapped cloth tightly around his abdomen to keep his storma attachments extra secure. The last time he didn't have that security, he dookied on Sundowner when he tried to parkour. They still laugh about it.

He lost his legs about two years into the mission

His psychosis developed rather quickly when his legs were swiftly replaced with robust cybernetic legs.

He was fully prepared for Jimmy to have moved on. Much to his surprise, he waited for him and started gaining immense success in his work.

He also learned he became a cat dad

Ze legs and pelvis

His replacement legs right after the accident were standard metal robotic legs that helped him get around, tho it hindered his athletic abilities. He was happy to have them finally replaced with a more competent model. These legs include:

Matching skin tone

Sensors included that allows him to detect pressure, temperature changes and pain

A faux butt with padding

A Mr Studd that acts similarly to a natural penis - of course he misses his real one, but he's glad he can pee out of this one and relieve sexual need. Special sensors in the phallus connected to a specific neural link allows him to feel aroused when stimulated and lead to an eventual climax, of course it's not the same as it once was. His sex drive is also quite low.

Faux testes included for aesthetic purposes - they look and feel almost like the real thing! 😃 A TRT device was considered to be included in his pair, but he opted to take injections whenever he wanted to. He doesn't think the lack of testosterone hinders his abilities to carry out his duties as a merc. Before he changed his legs, he wasn't on testosterone regularly.

Reinforced tendons, Jenkin's tendons and Lynx paws installed

Height increased from 6'2" to 6'5" - he had a high calorie and nutritional diet due to being trained as a fighter, however, that isn't to say he didn't receive painful procedures to increase his height to appear more intimidating

Has replacement organs with sensors

Artificial butthole works fine 👍 (don't lie, you were curious)

He takes rather strong immunoblockers

Additional notes:

Jimmy paid for some of the costs. He insisted.

Recovery was relatively quick, tho he had to take the time to get used to his new legs and make sure sensors worked well.

Jimmy's aware of Monsoon's cyberpsychosis. It kinda turns him on. And he loves to admit it.

....yeah Jimmy did select the junk to be Monsoon's replacement sausage

Khamsin

During a few of his gigs, he had Khamsin as his "wheels guy". His chatter and loud music gets on Monsoon's gears, but Sundowner like Khamsin, plus he's an excellent driver. Most of the time, Monsoon zones out when he's around Khamsin, but with enough drinks, he'll chuckle at a joke or two.

Additional notes:

Khamsin's truck looks better than how I drew it. I'm just bad at drawing vehicles

Khammy also has cybernetic legs

Mons doesn't hate him, but he wouldn't invite him to his place

Sometimes he gets taunt ideas from Khamsin

Mistral

Monsoon has been a well established solo when he met the young and snarky woman who goes by Mistral. Tho she's solo, she also dabbles in netrunning, proving her versatility. At first the two didn't get on so well. She taunted him about being an old fogie, and he retorted her about being a naïve and obnoxious little girl with pink hair, even tho their age difference is approximately 15 years.

Sundowner kept wanting her on the team despite the bickering as the group worked well together and he enjoyed her accent. When the group finally did decide to hang out together at a bar, Monsoon and Mistral bonded over their annoyance with Khamsin and their love for Jimmy. As the two got closer, Mistral gifted Monsoon a couple of sakura hair clips she won at a fair. He invited her to his place to see his cat.

Additional notes

Mistral's married to Courtney lol. Courtney's a corpo, but they hardy spend time together due to their work

Mistral's a fan of Jimmy's XBDs.

She's visited their place multiple times and has designated herself as their cat's aunt

Monsoon loves the hair clips, even tho he doesn't express this out loud

She's a gun user - I'm basing this off her time as a soldier, plus I'm not sure where her lance fits in the CP universe. The geckos would be more like her and Courtney's freak children than her tools

Monsoon does not like her freak children

Weirdly, her and Jimmy became good friends. They text each other on a regular basis

She also hangs out with the two if Courtney's busy with work

She playfully throws things at Monsoon. Monsoon draws on her face when she's netrunning

She came to Night City directly from Algeria. She misses the food there

Fighting

Monsoon's fighting style is more or less identical to the original canon moveset, save for his lack of magnetic segmented legs and torso. When he had his natural legs, he utilised reflex implants to boost speeds and force behind his kicks. Now that he has his cybernetic legs, he's even more dangerous in a fight. He has implants that increase his resistance to hacking. His arms can be disassembled by skilled hackers, a hell of a disadvantage if he's using his sais to attack from a distance. He carries a multitude of grenades with him which includes explosives, EMPs and smoke grenades.

Outfit

Monsoon dresses in kitsch style clothing. His wardrobe consists mainly of vests and short sleeves, and perhaps five pairs of bottoms. As he's often doing gig work (and beating up Tyger Claws), he favours no sleeves for their practically and ease of wear. He does own at least a handful of long sleeve shirts, bombers and hoodies which he wears on special occasions, such as when he doesn't want to use his magnetic abilities.

Additional notes

He owns a couple neokitsch style clothing (clothing that only the wealthy can afford) because Jimmy likes to spoil him. He only ever wears them when he's visiting Embers

Jimmy likes stealing his jackets and hoodies.

Monsoon on occasion wears Jimmy's jacket to feel like a villain - Jimmy doesn't take offence to this.

Monsoon wears his clothes until they fall apart. It annoys Jimmy because he knows he can afford new clothes.

He also hates going clothes shopping with Jimmy

Apartment

His apartment is located in Japantown, Westbrook of Night City. He keeps the apartment clean and free of clutter, the only decorations he has are books/magazines and a dragon statue that holds incense (came with the apartment). Eventually, his apartment transformed into a lively little abode when Jimmy entered his life. After becoming accustomed to the company, the apartment now includes horror movie posters, memory chips dotted everywhere, cute little momentos, cans of Spunky Monkey in the fridge, an additional toothbrush, additional clothes in the wardrobe, sex toys and numerous Polaroid photographs of the two.

Additional notes:

Sometimes they use each other's toothbrush by mistake

He has a plethora of plants. He likes nature. Jimmy's a little freaked out by the plants especially when they touch him

He doesn't smoke in the apartment