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liliansun · 3 years ago

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Hope that you’re ok

Jake Sim oneshot

[ Jake is moving to Korea to peruse his dreams of becoming an idol, so he writes you a letter letting you know he’s coming. ]

warnings: mentions of death

genre: very angst

0.9k wc

italics is what he’s writing

Jake’s pov

a/n: inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘hope ur ok’

part of the sour series

Sitting in his room, Jake had a million thoughts running through his mind. He was moving back to Korea to audition for a company he had been hoping to debut in for a while now. Finally getting the chance to be able to take a step towards his dream, he couldn’t help, but think about you. He didn’t admit it, but since he moved to Australia, he always thought of you. The shy girl next door, you had been his partner in crime. His yin to his yang, his best friend in the entire word and when he was told he was moving, all he could think about was you.

Now, he had the chance to finally see you again and he wanted to tell you in advance. He couldn’t wait to see you again, see how you’ve grown and get to know you all over a again. So here he was, late at night and he was sitting at his desk writing a letter to you.

‘Dear y/n, I’m coming back to Korea. I hope we’ll be able to meet up when I get there, I miss you a lot.’

As he was writing this letter, all of the memories of when the two of you were young flooded his mind. He remembers the day he first moved next door to you and our family. His mom had sent him next door with a box of cookies in hopes of staring a good relationship with their new neighbors.

‘It’s been how long? I can’t remember, but it’s been so long and I’ve missed you so much. Remember Layla? She’s gotten so big now, she can’t come with me, but I can show you pictures.’

When he knocked on your door that day, he was met with a young version of you. He still remembers the way you looked, blue jean overalls, a yellow long sleeve and pigtails in your hair. Even as a kid, Jake knew how beautiful you’d be when you grew up.

‘I can’t explain how much I miss you, y/n. You will get the biggest hug from me once I see you, oh maybe you can meet me at the airport!’

His next memory of you was when he spent his first birthday with you. You two were playing in the tree house his parents built for him and as the clouds began to darken, your imagination was flowing more than ever. You had huddled up next to Jake, holding the flashlight in your hands as you told him goofy stories about your fish. If he was honest, anything you said made him laugh.

‘Remember when we made our parents worried we’d get hurt because we were in the tree house when it started to rain? I still smell the scent of the fresh rain after it cleared. I hope we can share memories like that again.’

Jake’s smile never left his face as he hurriedly scribbled down on the paper. He thought it’d be too long if he mentioned every little thing he ever did with you, so he cut it short. Wanting to leave things to talk about when he got to see you.

‘I am too excited, so I’ll end the letter here. I’ll be arriving at the airport a week from when you should get this. Meet me by my gate please, I want to see you when I land. I miss you y/n, I can’t wait. Love, Jake.”

And the next morning, his letter was off into the world, hoping to find its way to you. Jake was just as eager as he was when he was writing that night, sitting in his seat on the plane as the captain announced he’d be landing. Jake was determine to be the first one off the plane, hoping to run into your arms and spin you around like he’s seen in romcoms before. Determination got him far, grabbing his carry on as quickly as he could and dashed out the plane and thorough his gate. Out of all the people in the airport, he was scanning the sea of people for your face.

He instead saw your mom standing in the middle of the people with a sign that had his name on it. He was hoping this was his sign, the sign that you’d be somewhere and you’d come out and surprise him. Walking towards your mom, he saw the sorrow that filled her eyes. She seemed to have lost the light she once had, but he didn’t think the worse. He had hope. Her voice sounded empty when she said his name, tears threading to fall from her eyes

“Where’s y/n, Mrs. L/n?” He asked, looking around in hopes you’d be somewhere close. When he looked back down at your mom, he saw the tears roll down her cheeks, sadness painted across her face. That’s when he first found out you had passed a few days prior to your parents getting his letter to you. In that moment, Jake felt the world stop. Everything had gone silent and he could only hear the sound of his heart shattering in his chest. Even when your mom brought her hands around him in hopes to comfort him, he felt numb. The idea of you not being on this earth anymore pained him in ways he couldn’t imagine he’d ever feel.

So when the day came, he was invited to your funeral. He stood in front, holding your moms hand as they lowered your casket into the ground. He was silent, staring down at the black box that held your precious body. As the family was asked for any last requests or thoughts, Jake leaned down. With his eyes closed and hand over his heart, he said the simple words he could only hope your would would hear. “I hope that you’re ok, y/n.”

©︎ liliansun

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clrkingrm · 4 years ago

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hellooooooooo! this is admin envy/holly and i am STUPID excited to kick things off around here..... i luv everyone so much already and i want to plot with All Of You :,) under the cut are some deets about mr. clark ingram: local garbage stoner, taco bell connoisseur, ex-juvie goer, and proud drummer for wet brain. feel free to hmu on d/scord (or on tumblr ims if u prefer) if u wanna plot something out. i also have wanted connections right here for ur perusal!!! <3 <3 <3

clark was born in new york city via in-vitro fertilization to two wealthy mothers. his formative years were spent in the fast-paced thrum of the city — its where his love for music first developed, and he 100% considered it to be his forever home. that was until he turned 13, and his grandmother falling ill led to his moms hauling them out to the tiny town of dingle to care for her in her final years.

three major factors led to clark absolutely despising his early years in dingle. 1) his ailing grandmother was an actual through and through asshole 2) he had just come out to his moms a few years prior, and transitioning in a tiny town versus the liberal heart of the city was not something he was looking forward to, and 3) compared to the city, it felt like there was absolutely nothing to do. this led to him lashing out, fucking around, and landing himself in trouble with the authorities more times than he could count.

this delinquency eventually caught up with him — his ass was tossed into a correctional facility when he was 15, after he accidentally burned down an abandoned home while getting stoned with his hooligan friends. they all dipped on him, leaving him to deal fully with the wreckage and the punishment.

after this minor wake up call, he got his life… slightly on track. he started actually going to school (and doing his homework!!!) regularly, partied a little less, and got involved with a better group of friends (ie: the esteemed connor roth). he managed to scrape up enough academic motivation to graduate high school, though not enough to even consider attending college once graduation arrived.

his mother (vivien, the mean one) gave him an ultimatum: either get a job, go to community college, or get the hell out. he is now the world’s worst dishwasher at rosie’s diner. though the titular rosie is generally distrustful of this little miscreant, he managed to snag the job because she was good friends with his grandmother. (little does she know, clark actively hates his grandma). he could find another job, yeah, but they always hook him up with free fries.

his grandmother passed away when clark was sixteen, but he only very recently found out that she left him her beachside home in her will. seems like a nice gesture, yeah, but it was mainly just to spite his mother (again, vivien, the mean one). giving a whole ass house to her unmotivated stoner son, where he could basically waste away? truly haunting her post-mortem. he now lives there with connor + TBD (lmk if u wanna live w them)! he still works as a dishwasher, though, for like, groceries… video games... and for weed money…. and for the free fries. gotta love the free fries.

he also does twitch streams as a small side gig, streaming the shittiest possible games. he has a puny cult following on the platform, who consistently send him worse and worse games to try out and yell about, but he makes essentially nothing off of it. he just likes the attention, mostly. (ex: this & this)

the one thing clark takes seriously in his life is drumming. he truly believes to the depth of his soul that he can make it as a professional drummer, and that if he doesn’t, there isn’t much else left for him in terms of occupation. this has led to a palpable desperation as he’s grown older — and to him taking wet brain a lot more seriously with the more time that passes. hence, the battle of the bands is actually kinda a big deal to him, because that spot at the festival could mean a lot for a future career.

clark truly thrives on being an annoyance. if he can find a way to push someone’s buttons, he will. there’s a disgusting pleasure he gets in messing with people, which has led to many constant citizens of the town to genuinely hate his crusty ass. as long as he can still get gigs, he doesn’t really care.

recently, he has tried to get into writing deeper lyrics for the group. he’s mainly the go-to guy for stupid and goofy lyricism, but he’s attempting to tap into his… feelings… whatever those are. (he has a lot, really. he just doesn’t wanna talk about them).

his main interests include drumming (obv), weed, taco bell, adam sandler movies (uncut gems literally changed his life), video games, skateboarding, stupid t-shirts, weird thrift store finds, partying, going to gigs, curating playlists, and being a general dumbass.

if you actually read all this shit and STILL want more, i got a nice about page for him right here (with a full bio!), as well as a pin board right here !!! (gotta rep the aesthetic)

#i am so hype!!!!!!!!!!!#intro.

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ccarats · 6 years ago

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Can I please get 14 with Vernon please? I'm so excited :D

sdpofjds yes u can!!! sorry it took like two days :( but i got so carried away with this after i sat down and got started on it!! and @ that anon who brought up me with vernon being in the rain, i dID IT AGAIN I’M SORRY!!!! this is my brand and i accept it. i hope u like it bb, and i’m super glad ur excited!!! sorry abt the wait again, ty for being patient!!!!!

14. can i have this dance?

member / genre: vernon + fluff

wc: ~1.3k

Vernon had always been one for breaking the norms. When people ran, he would walk. When they shouted, he would be quiet. He’d dance when everybody else stood still. He was a man that had marched to his own drum as long as he could remember, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. He was uniquely himself, and you had found it admirable that he thought little of being judged in such a harsh and hypercritical world. Where one would be outcasted for a simple err or misstep outside of what had been deemed socially acceptable. When you had first met him, you had gotten cornered by a pushy guy on your way into a museum your friend had recommended to you, and despite your protests, he wouldn’t stop flirting with you. You’d been hoping he’d move on and prayed for anything to distract him. You shook your head for what felt like the millionth time when you felt somebody wrap their hand around yours and tug you away from him.

“Babe, where were you at? We were supposed to meet in renaissance, not in modern.” You blinked dumbfoundedly at the man you had never seen in your life beforehand. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. He only winked subtly at you and turned back to face the man that had been bothering you previously. “I know she’s a work of art, but unfortunately she is taken.” He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you close, waving goodbye at the man who griped on his way outside of the museum. Once the man was out of the building, the stranger removed his arm from around you and chuckled shyly. “Sorry about that. I just know those guys tend to be persistent unless they’re scared off…” He sighed. You nodded your head in silent agreement at his words, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“No, you’re right. Thanks for the help…” You trailed off, searching for a name but realizing that you had not picked one up yet.

“Vernon.” He held his hand out confidently, a friendly smile on his, admittedly, handsome face. His features were unique- it almost felt as if he stepped out of a fairytale, but you quickly shook off the angels singing love in your ears and grasped his hand, shaking it as you told him your name. His smile only stretched further across his face.

“Well, you’re in here anyways- do you want to go to the Renaissance section with me?” You were taken aback at his friendliness. Not only had he come to your aid in a situation many would shield their eyes from and continue walking, he was now inviting you to peruse the museum with him? It was rare that you met someone with such a seemingly genuine kindness these days- many had an ulterior motive, and though you didn’t know Vernon, by the naive expression dancing behind his bright eyes, you knew he had no malintent in his request. So you found yourself saying yes before you had realized it, continuing on much further than you could have imagined that day.

What had been a turn of serendipity in your favour had blossomed into a goofy friendship, whether it be meeting up in other museums around the city or him playing fake boyfriend with you on nights out at the club, you had always found yourself absorbed in his presence. It was always mesmerizing to hear the way he thought- though he ended up at the same conclusions as others sometimes, his mind always seemed to take the path less traveled. The easy way out was not always the best, you remembered him mentioning one night when the two of you had grabbed ice cream. You teasingly called him a wise old master at that, only to have him snort and gently push you as the two of you walked along the empty streets.

What had been a stranger helping you turned into the same person who encouraged you to step out of the box, as he had. When everybody was getting wasted at a friend’s party, he encouraged you to dangle your feet in the water and bask under the moonlight and the way that it reflected against the aquamarine tint of the water. To explore the side streets of the city and discover new beginnings as others ran along the central roads, walking along roads they’d known their whole lives. To now, when the two of you had been walking down the street filled with clothing stores, conversing amongst yourselves about anything and everything when the weather decided to fuck you over and create a downpour. Where your first instinct was to run and take cover, you only discovered Vernon stood in the street, his head dipped back as the rain dripped down from his hair, his skin, his clothes. As he always did, he stood out amongst the others who had quickly moved to put their umbrellas up or rush to the safety of clothing stores and cafes surrounding you. His eyes slowly opened and his field of view turned to focus on you, a playful smirk pulling upwards on his face.

He ran over to you, the excitement spreading to the rest of his face, a sense of bemusement and childlike excitement reaching his eyes. A hand reached out to you, passing under the ceiling that separated you from the dryness of being under the structure and the rain that poured down around Vernon just a few steps away.

“Can I have this dance?” Confusion spread across your features, and he gave a quick nod of his head in reassurement, once again reaching his hand out to you. With a sigh, your hand wrapped around his and he quickly yanked you into the downpour, the rain instantaneously soaking you. You let out a gasp in astonishment at how heavy the rain had become in such a short amount of time. His hands moved up to brush the hair that had matted against your forehead with an affectionate smile, his hand resting against your cheek for a second before dropping to his side. You moved to hide your head in his chest, as to shield yourself from the rain, his free arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you as close to him as he could manage. Despite the stares you were sure you were getting from strangers on the street, you were somehow content with resigning yourself to the gentle sway in which Vernon moved the two of you.

“So, why’re you pulling me out into the rain and risking us getting sick, Socrates?” You lifted your head to lock eyes with Vernon, a playful smile on your face to show you weren’t actually bothered at his actions.

“Because you need to stop and smell the roses sometimes, smartass.” Vernon chuckled, one of his hands moving to run along your hair. “And sometimes you’re too afraid of being judged that you need a push. Like right now,” He laughed once more as he watched you search for words in response to him. “And stop trying to bite back, you know I’m right.” You scrunched your nose up, choosing to instead bury your head in his chest once more instead of trying to come up with a response. He was right, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how freeing it felt to be here in his arms without a care in the world in this moment. So, you silently nodded your head and continued to spin and sway around the streets with Vernon for what felt like an eternity- and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt scenarios #vernon scenarios #vernon #vernon chwe #seventeen drabbles #svt drabbles #vernon drabbles #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #vernon imagines #m; reactions #stars

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