#your honor i love them they are so stupid and smart at the same time

[sunset-bridge]

suspicious flower siblings.............

[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]

[cherrycola27]

afterglow

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol and drinking. Military inaccuracies. Allusions to and eventual smut. Friends to lovers. Mutual pining. Unrequited love. Minors DNI. 18+. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 5: Don't Walk Away

Jake knew that his time with you was coming to an end. He couldn't believe that you were seriously leaving. Be couldn't stomach the idea of you flying with someone else.

Since you were going back to Lemoore, Cyclone had decided to make him a single seat pilot like he was during the uranium plant mission. God, that fucking mission. If he could go back in time, maybe he wouldn't have flown it. Maybe he would have fought harder for you to go with him. That was the beginning of his downfall with you.

Jake couldn't believe how stupid he was. He had you in the palm of his hand, and now he was watching you slip through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. You were leaving in two weeks, and you hadn't spoken to him since the night he confessed his feelings for you.

It broke his heart when you told him that jt was too little too late. That you had been waiting for him to say that for almost two years. How could he have been so blind? Because he only cared about himself, that's how.

Jake had taken you for granted, and he could see that now. He'd always expected you to be there for him, and now that you weren't, his world was falling apart.

This week, he was finally cleared to fly. You had opted to stay on desk duty until you left.

He climbed in the cockpit and went through all of his preflight checks, but before he could take off, he had a panic attack and jumped out of his jet, and became physically sick all over the tarmac.

Everyone had asked him if he was okay, but how was he supposed to tell them that the thought of you not being in the plane with him made him feel like an elephant was sitting on his chest and made his vision go blurry. The rest of the team watched him spend the entire week trying to get up in the air, but it all ended the same way. Right before takeoff, the anxiety with set it, he would jump out, puke, and run into the locker room like clockwork.

By the time Thursday rolled around, everyone was in a good mood because you'd all been given a three day weekend. Tonight, the Daggers were throwing you a going away party at the Hard Deck. They wanted one last chance to celebrate with you before you left them next Friday.

Penny had agreed to close the bar down, but it still seemed like all of North Island was there. Well, almost everyone.

You sat in a tucked away corner booth and fiddled with the straw in your drink. You'd been watching the door all night, willing him to come.

"Glow, why is the guest of honor sitting alone looking all sad?" Rooster said as he slid in the booth next to you.

"I'm fine, Roo, honest." You told him.

"He'll be here. He may be a gigantic asshole, but Hangman cares too much about you not to come. He's been a mess all week. Couldn't even get his plane in the air." Rooster told you.

"What?" You asked him. You had been trapped in an office and hadn't heard anything.

"Jake would go through all of his preflight stuff, get cleared to taxi, and then he'd freak out, jump out of the cockpit, get sick, and run away. I asked him about it yesterday and he said he couldn't fly without you." Rooster told you as he sipped his beer.

"He sure didn't feel that way when they offered him the uranium plant mission." You grumbled under your breath.

"No one ever accused him of being smart." Rooster shrugged. You chuckled and smiled for the first time that night. Just then, the bell above the door chimed. Your eyes shot over to it, and there he was. Jake Seresin in all of his glory.

But he didn't look like his usual self. His hair wasn't neatly styled, dark bags had made a home under his eyes, and he didn't have his usual glow about him. Rooster quickly got up to leave, and Jake spotted you across the room.

He walked over to you and you noticed he had something tucked under his arm.

"Hi." He breathed out as he approached you.

"Hi." You replied.

"Glow, can—can we please talk. Privately?" He asked you. You sighed and nodded. You made your way through the crowd to the back deck. When you pushed through the doors, the noise of the party faded and was replaced with the sweet sounds of the ocean. You leaned against the railing, admiring the rays of the setting sun.

You turned to face Jake. He paced nervously across the old wood.

"I—I have something for you." He stammered as he shoved the box he'd been carrying in your hands. You untied the ribbon and lifted off the lid. You gasped when you saw the contents of it.

"Jake—you can't be serious." You met his eyes. "I am." He replied as he swallowed thickly.

You looked back down at the box. Inside where his wings. The ones he'd worn every day since his father pinned them on him, and his discharge papers, dated three months from now, when his contract was up.

"Jake, I thought you said you were going to spend your thirty years or more and then retire. What happened to that? What happened to becoming Admiral Seresin? Wasn't that your plan, your dream?" You ask him, still not believing what is in front of you.

"I haven't been able to fly for a week without you with me. You really think I can go another twenty years? I can barely go twenty seconds without thinking about you!" Jake exclaimed.

"If you're not flying with me. I don't want to fly anymore." Jake breathed out.

"You didn't seem to feel that way when you first came here." You argue back.

"I know. I was so stupid. I was so desperate to make a name for myself. To prove myself—that I— I forgot that it wasn't all about me. My biggest regret right now is not fighting harder to get you on that mission with me. If I could go back in time and do it all over, I would. I would choose you. I would choose us." Jake admits to you.

Your breath catches in your throat. "Jake—"

"I'm not done." He cuts you off. "You have been the best thing in my life. You have always been there for me. You have my six in the sky and on the ground. You're my constant, my anchor. I am a better person because of you. I know I can't take back all those hurtful things I said and did. But I can spend the rest of my life making up for them and proving to you how much I love you. Because fuck, Y/N, I love you so goddamm much it hurts." Jake declares with tears in his eyes.

"Jake—" You begin, fighting your own tears.

"I would do anything for you. To prove to you how sorry I am, even if that means hanging up my wings." Jake breaths out.

You don't know how to respond. You stand there looking at him, holding his wings in your hands, and you finally let the tears fall.

In this moment, you realize how serious he is. You can see his hard exterior cracking. You've never seen him be so vulnerable.

When you meet his eyes, it isn't the cocky Hangman standing across from you. It's Jake, your Jake.

The one who took care of you when you were sick. The one who always saved you a seat in flight school. The one who punched an ensign for grabbing your ass.

It's the Jake who watches rom-coms with you and was more concerned about your well-being than his when the two of you had to eject during a training exercise. You remember how scared he was then, and you can see that same look on his face now.

You open your mouth to speak, but Jake rushes across the deck to you and cups your face in his hands and kisses you. It's warm, and it's soft, and it feels like home.

"Please, Y/N, please don't go. I need you. And I promise if you stay, I'll never leave you again." He whispers as he presses his forehead to yours.

"Okay." You choked out. Sobs still catching in your throat.

"Okay?" He asks.

"I'll stay. I wasn't going to say anything until after the party, but, I retracted my transfer." You confess to him.

"Wh—why?" Jake stutters out.

"Because leaving wasn't going to solve anything. Believe me, I think we've both learned that lesson." You tell him. Jake gives a knowing smirk.

"And the idea of not being around you hurt more than being around you. We are a team, through the good and the bad. I couldn't walk away from you—from us. We have something, Jake, and I don't want to lose it." You tell him.

"I don't want to lose it either. I don't want to lose you, Glow." Jake tells you. "Tell me you're still mine. That we can move on from this." Jake pleads with you.

"I'm willing to try if you are. But I need you to tell me that I'm all you want. That I'm enough for you." You say to him.

"You're more than enough for me. You're all I want." Jake tells you earnestly.

"Now, can I take you home? And I promise I'll still be there in the morning." Jake asks.

"Yeah, let's get out of here." You grab his hand as the two of you jump off the back deck and sprint to his car, giggling like idiots.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I did! I'm thinking there is going to be about two parts left (and possibly) and epilouge for this story!

Taglist: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @lovinglyeternal @lovingbradshawafterdark @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @ohgodnotagainn @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @potato-girl99981 @djs8891 @roosterbruiser @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @olliepig @seresinsweetie @linkpk88 @my-obsession-spn @eternalsams @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @stargazer-88 @clancycucumber230

[thequietkid-moonie]

Mischievous supernatural keeps messing with them

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Teru, Hanako ]

[ Toilet Bound Hanako-kun / Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun ]

× This is inspired in Beetlejuice

I really loved writing this, it was pretty funny and interesting

Teru Minamoto

For being a supernatural that has to make a deal with someone to deploy your power you were wandering around pretty bored, searching for a perfect candidate, just making some mischief here and there, bothering a little the humans and supernatural that cross in your way

And what you have done has caught the attention of the family of exorcist Minamoto, even if you wouldn't doing anything Teru wouldn't let you alone, his work as the leader of the clan Minamoto is to exorcising all the supernaturals he find, besides he despises them

The first moment you two meet is when Teru attacked you without warning and with all his strenght, not letting you too much time to defend yourself, barely managing to escape with some tricks, leaving you frustrated for what happened, and Teru is too, he is furious that a supernatural managed to escape from him

Trying to take revenge or go against him won't be a really smart move since he is a really good and experienced exorsist, and since without making a deal with someone you are pretty weak you are in a clear disadvantage, it wouldn't be that way if you can deceive him and make him believe that you have all your power but is more likely that he already knows about your limitations (and if not he will find out soon)

Next time Teru even just see you he imediatly tries to attack you, but you always manage to escape (not without badly injuries) just to leave him more frustrated and angry. Since then you become constant target for Teru you have no other option to just run away and hide, you know it would be imposible now make a deal with someone since just by trying it he will exterminate you before you have the opportunity to even offer the deal

All this situation is so humiliating and shameful for the prideful you, so you start to work on your revenge, prying even the smallest details about him in hopes to find something that could help you gain an edge. In the other hand Teru wasn't better, every time you manage to scape just frustrate him more and more, how a stupid supernatural such as yourself manage to go away from him like this (even Akane can tell how frustrate he is, but he won't ask he isn't that stupid to do so)

Both of you prepare yourselfs to the next time you two fight, getting ready to give everything to be the one who end up being victorious, although the next time you two fight end being pretty much the same, both having his own way to fight and non of you willing to give up just end up on you escaping (but this time you weren't the only one injured)

What started full with hate and frustration quickly become a rivality with lots of motivation, both wanting to be the one who defeat the other and unconsciously helping each other to become stronger (it also gets pretty scary for whoever see you two being so motivated), as strange as it sounds both of you become rivales in a more honorable way

It get to the point that you approached to him to express your bloodlust against him and this time he didn't attack you imediatly, on the contrary he express the same against you, and that wasn't the only time, from time to time one of you approach the other to exchange some words (mainly to mess and tease the hell of each other)

However, Teru keep this as a secret for the sake of the honor of his family, the only people who he will let know (and yet hesitantly) is Kou or maybe Akane, and both will be shocked that Teru is "getting along" with a supernatural.

Also, it could happen that, since your relationship grow the one whit a rivality more settle and honorable, they end up seeing the two of you together, Teru won't say much or make a big deal of it (specially if is Akane who see the two of you), but if you try to say anything about it he imediatly goes against you and attack you, not with all his strenght though is more like a warning (because knowing you, you probably will try to make it seems like a friendship)

Teru will never admit it, let alone to you, but he grows to like the relationship you two have because with all the fights he has become even more stronger, not just physical but mentally too since he had to come up with differents ways to deal with you, besides even when he always says that you are annoying as hell you make things a little more funny

Is not probably, but he will be really mad if someone else manage to exterminate you before him, you two have a rivality and no one should interpose (and won't try to hide it, glaring angrily at the person without saying anything)

Hanako-kun

In the Kamome Academy there is a lot of spiritial energy since there is not just the seven misteries but also some other supernatunals, so having curiosity for that place won't be too strange

One day you just decided to give a try and visit the place, wandering around just seeing the students go by and searching for the others supernatunals. By the first moment you enter in the academy Hanako has know about your presence, and even when you were just chilling around the school he was very wary of you

It get the point that either you discover him stalking you or that he himself approached to you to introduced himself, at first he was very cheerful and polite, but you can easily tell that he is still wary of you, and he wasn't too bad on distrusting you, being a supernatural who seeks to make less than fair deals with others is pretty dangerous and he is in charge of protecting the place and the order between humans and supernaturals, so is just natural on him

Just take him one time seeing you trying to make a deal with someone to fully distrust you and keep an eye on you whenever you are in the academy, he tried to fight against you at the very moment since you were being a threat but you managed to get away with some trick and no matter how much times he tries to stop you somehow you always manage to get away from him, that frustrate the hell of him

For that reason you two end up having to pass a lot of time together and he ends up disliking your only presence a lot, making it worst knowing the little to nothing respect you have for human lifes or how you just use them to have fun. For a while your relasionship just goes from following you to make sure you don't cause problems to fighting with words and even physically from time to time

Since he doesn't let you do almost nothing you just start to have fun with him, messing with him, jokinly threatening him with doing something or teasing him with whatever you can (specially with the fact that he can't go outside the academy, but he always give it back saying that you are pretty usless without making a deal)

He never really trusted you around humans so when you get to know Yashiro and Kou (because is imposible for you to don't meet them one way or another, specially for how he care for them) he make you keep a distance from them and get really protective over them, Hanako even warned them about you when you weren't there (making them pretty scare of you in the process by accident)

The thing is that after spending so much time messing with Hanako you had just forget your goal of managing to make a deal and take advantage with someone and just started to focuse on him, you were having so much fun by even just spending time with him that you let pose a threat long ago, just going out of the school to mess with him too, but Hanako couldn't know because he is too blinded by the first impresion you gave to him, too worried that you will harm someone

Getting to be friends with Yashiro and Kou will be difficult since Hanako has warned them about you, but it isn't imposible, it just have to happen outside of the school (although with Kou is still pretty difficult since he come from a family of exorcists). When Hanako notice that they started to get along with you he is mixed between feeling betrayal and worried sick for them, making it worst when they try to explain him that you aren't that bad (or at least not anymore)

At the end has to be Tsuchigomori who make him realice that you had changed, one day while Hanako were complaining about you he point out how you had stoped wander around the school like a predator and just focused on him with joy all over your face, he may even dare to say that there is some care too

Flustered, Hanako will be thinking on it for a while, at the end he get the conclution that you actually changed, he still doesn't fully trust you but he is willing to give you an opportunity. The next time he has the opportunity he will talk to you, he shyly apologize for treating you so bad when you already changed, however you just laugh at his words calling him silly for being so worried, after all if he wasn't so wary of you it wouldn't have been so funny mess with him

From then you start to win Hanako's trust little by little, and even when he get more comfortable around you your relationship still doesn't change much keeping messing with each other but this time in a more friendly and playful way (although Hanako tries avoid by all means you meeting Tsukasa since knowing how much you two like messing with him that would just end in disaster)

[praetorqueenreyna]

counterintelligence, Nesta/Eris, Eris Week Day 6: Modern AU

Please enjoy, this is just a goofy light-hearted fake dating modern AU. There is lots of Cassian slander tho.

@erisweek2023

Read here on AO3!!

”I need a favor.”

Eris stared at the text message in disbelief. It had come through several minutes ago, and he was no closer to puzzling out what it meant. Sure, people often asked him for favors. He was smart and rich and good at problem-solving. But those people were not usually Nesta Archeron.

After running through several dozen scenarios in his head, he finally texted her back.

”What?”

A nanosecond after the text registered as being delivered, the phone began to ring in his hand. “Nesta Archeron” flashed on the screen. Bemused, he answered the phone.

“Hello?”

Nesta got right down to business. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for Elain’s wedding.”

It took a lot to truly surprise Eris, but that certainly did it. “I’m sorry, what?”

A huff of frustration, as if he were the one being vague and irritating. “Cassian and I broke up a month ago.”

Another surprise. A good one, if he was being honest. Eris had always fucking hated Cassian. They had grown up in the same social circles; Cassian had weaseled into Rhysand's friend group when they were children, and their families had been in the same industry for decades. Cassian maintained that Eris was a classist who disliked Cassian because he was poor. That wasn’t strictly true: Eris disliked Cassian because he was an asshole. But he had found that Cassian was sensitive about his class status, and so it was something Eris often mocked him for.

When he had met Nesta, he had had no idea what she had seen in Cassian. She was intelligent and biting, and he was a 20-something year old man that still acted like a college frat guy. Somehow they had managed to stay together for two years without either of them murdering each other.

“He’s the best man, and I’m the maid of honor,” Nesta continued. “And he’s bringing fucking Mor. I’d rather eat glass than go to this wedding by myself.”

Ah, Morrigan. Both Eris and Cassian had dated her briefly in the past, but only one of them had ever moved on. Whenever Eris saw the whole group together, he could sense the tension between Nesta and Mor from across the room. Christ. He wasn’t one who felt a lot of sympathy for others, but wow, Nesta had been royally screwed.

“That’s shitty, I’ll admit. What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Eris. Cassian hates you. He’ll be furious when he sees you there. And I know you hate him too. You can’t tell me you don’t want to piss him off. I’ll even let you be the one to tell him we’re together.”

The offer was too good to refuse. There was almost nothing Eris would love nothing more than to look in Cassian’s big stupid face and tell him that he was with his ex. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Perfect. The wedding is in three days. Text me your address, I’ll pick you up at two.” With that, Nesta hung up on him. Eris stared at the dead phone in his hands, still trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Eris didn’t hear from Nesta for the rest of the week. He texted her once, to ask for the color of her dress so that he could buy a matching tie and pocket square. She sent him a close up of a patch of fabric that was dusty rose in color.

The day of the wedding arrived and Eris was weirdly nervous. Quite frankly, he didn’t know Nesta very well. He had met her a few times, and flirted with her to piss off Cassian. And now they were about to spend several hours together pretending to be dating. He forced himself to sit and read all morning, knowing that if he started getting ready he would spend several hours fidgeting in his suit and messing with his hair.

His doorbell rang at two on the dot. He opened the door to reveal Nesta, looking even more beautiful than he had remembered. Her hair was bound in an intricate crown of braids, and her mauve dress flowed loosely around her body, both hiding and revealing creamy skin in equal measure. He once again marveled that an oaf like Cassian had managed to keep her for more than fifteen minutes. She scanned him from head to toe, mouth pursed. “Hmm.”

“Is there a problem?” Eris asked, slightly offended. In his own unbiased opinion, he looked very dashing. His suit was immaculate; not a speck of dog hair marred the charcoal gray. He had found a tie that perfectly matched Nesta’s dress, and his shoes had been polished so they shone.

“It’s nothing.” Nesta turned away, clearly expecting Eris to follow her. He debated calling the whole thing off and slamming the door. But Nesta turned back, one hand on her car door, and Eris put together a dozen tiny details that he had missed when she was right in his face. Her mascara was smudged and her eyes were tinged red. The patch of fabric over her thigh was wrinkled from her twisting her hand into it. There was a semicircle of half-moon imprints on her left arm, as if she had dug the nails of her right hand into the flesh. Nesta was anxious and miserable and furious, all in one. And she had signed herself up to pretend to like him for several hours, which wasn’t going to make her feel much better.

Without a word, Eris slid into the passenger seat of her car.

“We reconnected two weeks ago. You came into my work, we started talking, and I gave you my number. We started dating a few days after that.” Nesta regaled him with their romantic history as she drove. Her eyes were glued to the road in front of her. The clipped, analytical tone actually put Eris more at ease. He could handle this. He was good at negotiations.

“Where do you work?”

“I’m a bartender at Rita’s.”

“Really?” Eris couldn’t hide his surprise. Nesta did not seem like someone well-equipped for customer service. Especially not when the customers were drunk and horny.

“Yes, really,” she snapped. “I’m in law school, and I needed a job that let me work nights, after classes.”

Once again, Eris was both impressed by Nesta and confused that she had been with Cassian for so long. How the fuck had that neanderthal captured her attention?

“Okay, that works. I’ve gone to Rita’s a few times.”

“I have a cat named Darcy. Elain got me into stupid reality TV shows and we watch the Bachelor together every year. I can cook, but I hate it, so we mostly eat out at the Thai place down the street.” Nesta’s cheeks pinkened, flustered over having to share even the most nonsensical details about her personal life. “That should be enough to get you through this wedding.”

She paused. Eris realized she was waiting for him to to return the favor, telling her just enough to get them through the reception without giving the game away. “I have four dogs. I still like going to the theaters to see new movies. I used to smoke, but I’m trying to quit.”

“What about work?”

“I’m the social media manager for my dad’s company.”

“What?” Nesta laughed, caught off guard. The corners of her eyes crinkled. Eris noticed for the first time that one of her front teeth was chipped. “Bullshit.”

Eris smiled despite himself. “I’m serious. I do all the brand awareness and brand imaging, but nowadays that’s mostly just social media. I try to convince the public that the company isn’t an evil corporation.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, definitely.”

Nesta laughed again. Eris could see himself becoming addicted to the sound. “Noted.”

The remainder of the drive passed quickly. They shared personal details back and forth, but with ease and warmth. It felt less like they were preparing each other for a trial and more that they were just getting to know each other. It was very much like a first date, if Eris were being honest.

Whatever camaraderie they had built up dissipated when Nesta pulled up in front of the wedding venue. He could practically see the steel wall shutting down, cutting her off from any potential heartbreak. “Are you ready?” she asked, cold and clipped. Without waiting for an answer, she got out of the car, barely waiting for him to follow her lead before she locked it and strode away.

Elain and Azriel were getting married in a cutesy old church, chosen more for its aesthetic than for any religious affiliation. The wedding was small; only a few dozen people were milling around the foyer, waiting for the ceremony to begin. It made it extremely easy to pick out Cassian, who was already glaring at them with his upper lip curled into a snarl. Eris maintained eye contact as he wrapped one arm around Nesta’s waist, his own expression carefully schooled in its usual smooth confidence. Nesta tensed under his touch, but when she caught Cassian staring she relaxed, pressing herself against Eris’s side. He delighted at the fury that flashed in Cassian’s eyes. Just as he was contemplating the pros and cons of kissing Nesta in front of him, a call went out that the wedding was about to begin, and would everybody please take their seats. With a cheeky wave to his glowering adversary, Eris followed Nesta into the main hall.

As soon as they entered the nave, Nesta was swept away with the rest of the bridal party, presumably to some staging area so they could prepare to walk down the aisle. Eris scanned the crowd, hoping for at least one person who didn’t hate him that he could sit with. He settled on his youngest brother, who was sitting near the back with his boyfriend, Tamlin. Eris settled next to Lucien, who visibly jumped at his appearance.

“What are you doing here?” Lucien asked. “Did I see you coming in with Nesta?”

“Yeah. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.” The familiar beginning notes of “Here Comes The Bride” resonated through the hall, forestalling any more questions. A procession began making its way down the center aisle. Eris could pick out a few people that he recognized, such as Feyre, Rhysand, and Mor. The maid of honor and best man walked down side by side. Both Nesta and Cassian were making an attempt to pretend everything was fine, but the resentment between them followed them like a dark cloud. It was a visible relief when they separated at the altar. Azriel was next, dashing as ever in his tailored suit. Last was the bride herself, accompanied by her father. Elain moved slowly, both for the benefit of the photographer and to make sure that her father, with his injured leg, could keep up.

The ceremony was fine. It was short, which Eris deeply appreciated. A lot of people were crying by the end of it. Eris didn’t know enough about Elain and Azriel to know if their marriage would last. His cynicism said it was unlikely. Besides, they were the least interesting thing on the altar. He found his gaze constantly drawn to Nesta. She watched her younger sister with a softness he had yet to see in her. A few times he caught her dabbing under her eyes with the pad of her finger, clearly trying to keep tears from ruining her eye makeup. A new wave of hatred for Cassian rose up in him, startling him. He had tried to ruin this for Nesta in the name of “winning” the breakup. Eris resolved to be as obnoxious as possible for the rest of the evening.

The reception was held behind the church. Dinner was served on the patio, and the garden was festooned with fairy lights. To Eris’s delight, being the date of the maid of honor meant sitting at the same table as the entire wedding party, most of whom despised him. The looks he received ranged from abject disgust (Cassian and Rhysand) to plain suspicion (Mor and Feyre). The only people who didn’t seem to care about him were Feyre’s wife, Lena, and Rhysand’s date, a smirking red-headed woman.

“Lovely ceremony,” Eris said brightly, breaking through the tension that his presence caused at the table. He stretched out his arms, resting one against the back of Nesta’s chair. Nesta, in turn, leaned back so her shoulders were pressed against his forearm.

“It was,” Feyre agreed. She opened her mouth to say more, but Cassian interrupted her.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Eris raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m my girlfriend’s plus one.”

“Uh huh,” Cassian replied, unconvinced. “What’s your angle?”

That got a chuckle out of Eris. “I don’t have some evil master plan. I’m just here to enjoy the party. Be the arm candy.” He brushed his fingers across Nesta’s cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Not that anyone is looking at me when I’m next to this gorgeous woman.”

Nesta gave him an odd look, and for a moment Eris feared he had overstepped the bounds of their fake relationship. Then she smiled and looked down, the perfect picture of a flattered partner. It was cute, almost cute enough to be able to ignore Cassian’s scowling.

“How long have you two been together?” Mor cut in, a pleasant smile pasted on her face.

“Only a couple weeks.” Eris nodded towards Mor and Cassian. “What about you?”

The smile was gone. “About the same.”

“Odd. I could have sworn you two have been on and off again for years,” Eris drawled. “I’m sure it’ll stick this time.”

Now both Mor and Cassian looked like they wanted to kill him. “Seriously Nes, what the fuck are you doing with him?” Cassian growled. “Is this just to piss me off?”

“Shockingly, who I choose to date has nothing to do with you,” Nesta responded. “And don’t call me that.”

“Nes, come on—”

“Stop it!” she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. “You stopped being allowed to tell me what to do when you cheated on me with her.” She didn’t need to gesture towards Mor to indicate who exactly she was talking about. Every time Eris thought he couldn’t get more annoyed, he was proven wrong. The sheer nerve for Cassian to actually cheat on Nesta, and then act like Nesta was in the wrong for bringing Eris? The fact that he was only here to cause drama didn’t seem relevant. Cassian deserved everything that was coming to him.

Nesta deliberately turned in her seat to strike up a conversation with Feyre. As she did, she intertwined one of her hands with one that Eris had been resting on the table. In full view of everyone, she raised their entangled hands to her mouth and pressed her lips against his knuckles. She moved casually, as if the display of affection were subconscious. A woman reaching out to her partner for reassurance. She was a much better actor than Eris would ever have given her credit for.

Dinner seemed to pass at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eris was hyper aware that Cassian was watching their every move. Nesta was all over him: a hand on his shoulder while she whispered in his ear, playing with the tips of his hair in between courses, using her thumb to wipe away crumbs from the corner of his mouth. It was difficult for Eris to focus on the conversation when he was surrounded by Nesta’s soft touches and the savory scent of her perfume. The temptation to bury his face in her neck and inhale deeply was overwhelming. He distracted himself by talking, engaging with almost everyone at the table. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass about these people, but he knew how to turn on the charm when it was required. And seeing steam come out of Cassian’s ears as Eris joked with his friends made it all worth it.

Finally, finally, they got through dinner and cake, toasts and first dances. Pop music pumped through the speakers, and everybody vacated the tables in favor of the dance floor. With a minute to themselves, Eris leaned in towards Nesta. “How am I doing?”

“Fantastic. I’ve never seen Cassian so furious.”

Eris preened at the praise, but the smirk slid off his face when he caught Nesta staring wistfully at the dance floor. Cassian and Mor were wrapped up in each other’s arms, giggling. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Nesta lied. She scrabbled for her purse that was draped over the back of her chair. “We can go. You’ve done more than enough for me.”

“We don’t have to.” Eris didn’t know why he was arguing. He wouldn’t gain anything by staying. But if they left now, Nesta would drop him off and then go home and sulk, and he’d never see her again. “I don’t want to go.”

“Eris,” Nesta huffed. “Stop fucking around.”

“I’m not.” He rose to his feet and took Nesta’s hand in his. “I want to dance.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” For the first time ever, Eris was grateful that his parents had made him take dance lessons. He twirled Nesta under his arm, causing her to shriek in surprise. When he spun her back to him, she was grinning. She had clearly had formal dance training as well; she matched him effortlessly, falling into step even when he shifted dance styles and moves. She was his favorite kind of dance partner, the kind who could read his body language and predict what he was going to do, and match him perfectly. It resulted in an effortless, elegant dance that looked like a choreographed routine. It was likely that the rest of the wedding had formed a circle around them, applauding and shouting encouragement instead of dancing themselves. He couldn’t say for sure, because he couldn’t take his eyes off of Nesta. She was the embodiment of grace, her dress whirling around her like rosy wings. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, but she was laughing, free as a bird.

The song ended and Eris lowered Nesta in a dramatic dip. Her hands, which were around the back of his neck, tugged his head down to meet hers. She crashed their lips together, and Eris’s brain short-circuited. A live wire of electricity shot down his body, almost startling him into dropping her. He had heard people talk about experiencing fireworks when they kissed, but this was beyond that. This was a lightning storm, consuming him from the inside out and leaving him starving for more.

One of the greatest moments of Eris’s life was rudely interrupted by Feyre grabbing Nesta and jerking her away from him. “Elain wants to to take some pictures in the garden, just the three of us,” she explained. Nesta allowed herself to be dragged away, shooting him an annoyed glance over her shoulder. Eris consciously refrained from touching his lips with his fingers in the wake of the kiss, like some kind of goddamn Victorian era romance heroine. It was all a show, nothing more. Nesta only kissed him as a ploy to aggravate her ex. Not because she liked him.

The ploy worked a little too well, judging by the way Cassian was staring at him, as if hoping he would spontaneously burst into flames. Eris’s smug grin got a lot less smug when the larger man began to actually stride towards him across the dance floor. An actual confrontation wasn’t part of the plan.

“Whatever game you think you’re playing with Nes, you better stop before she gets hurt,” Cassian rumbled.

It took all of Eris’s willpower to not take a step back. Cassian was a foot taller than him, and twice as broad. “Of the two of us, I’m not the one who’s been playing games with Nesta,” he replied, his eyes sliding meaningfully over to Mor.

Cassian’s eyes flashed. “You don’t know anything about me, asshole. I still care about her.”

“Sure. I guess caring about her means that you’re allowed to move on and she isn’t.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

High on the adrenaline of the verbal match, Eris couldn’t help but goad him further. “I understand why you’re mad. Nesta was always too good for you. I’m guessing you wanted her to pine after you and stay single so you can go crawling back when Mor inevitably dumps your idiotic, inbred—”

Before Eris could say “ass,” and finish his devastating insult, his head exploded in pain. It was like someone had hit him in the face with a brick, knocking him to the ground and leaving him gasping for air. His vision cleared and revealed Cassian standing over him, still brandishing a curled fist. Somebody in the crowd screamed and a clamor of voices went up, but all Eris could focus on was the fact that Cassian was about to beat him to death.

“What the fuck?” Like a guardian angel, Nesta had returned just in time. She shoved her way through the crowd and crouched down next to him. He gave her his most charming smile, which was somewhat compromised by the fact that he was pretty sure his nose was broken and blood was dripping out of his mouth.

“He—” Cassian started to defend himself, but Nesta whirled around and shoved him in the chest. He stumbled back, more from shock than the push itself.

“Get out of here. And if you ever try to talk to me again, I’ll fucking kill you.” Nesta’s rage was a physical force. Even Cassian wasn’t stupid enough to defy her. He shut his mouth and stormed off. Nesta turned back to Eris, her hands gripping his wrists like iron shackles as she hauled him to his feet. Holy shit, she was strong. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, to him and only him, ignoring the rest of the gaping wedding party. Eris was more than happy to follow her out of the main hall and away from so many incriminating stares.

Nesta led him to the small room where the bridal party had gotten ready before the ceremony. Empty bottles of wine were scattered around, and a confusing mix of perfume scents hung in the air. She guided him to a chair, instructed him to stay put, and disappeared. Eris slumped over, completely exhausted but still buzzing with energy. Nesta returned with a stack of fluffy white towels she had managed to berate one of the staff members into giving her. She bent over Eris, wiping the blood from his face. He hissed when the towel touched his nose, sending a blinding bolt of pain through him. Nesta paused, then resumed her work with a lighter touch.

“I’m sorry,” she said. The tightness in her voice revealed that that wasn’t a phrase she said often. “This was a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have let things get that far.”

“It’s fine,” Eris waved it off. “You might be shocked to learn that this isn’t the first time I’ve been punched in the face.”

The twitch of her mouth into a brief smile filled Eris with light, and suddenly his face didn’t hurt so bad. “Well, I’m still sorry. I dragged you into this and I’ve been a bitch all day.”

“No you haven’t.” Nesta snorted, and Eris corrected himself. “Okay, you have. But I get it. I’ve done a lot worse over a lot less.”

Nesta pinched together a corner of the towel that wasn’t yet covered in blood and meticulously wiped around his nostrils. She was leaning close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek. “This was all so stupid. I hate how much I let him hurt me, even now.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

Her surprised snort answered him before she responded. “No, of course not.” The towel dragged across Eris’s mouth and chin. His face should be clean by now. “It just sucks how much of my life is still about him. I can’t get away from him. He’s dug in, like a tick. If I want to have a relationship with my sisters, I have to deal with him. And he is such an asshole.”

“Yeah, I could have told you that years ago.” Eris worked up the nerve to ask the question he had been wanting to ask for ages. “Why were you with him for so long?”

Nesta sighed. “I don’t know. It wasn’t all bad. And when it was, I figured that’s what I deserved.”

“That’s stupid.” Maybe it was the blood loss, the blow to the head, the adrenaline. Maybe he was still reeling from their fake kiss. But his mouth kept moving and words kept pouring out. “You’re so cool and smart and beautiful. You deserve, like, a tech billionaire who is also an astronaut who is also a model.”

At that, Nesta laughed, low and husky. She studied him with clear gray eyes, only inches from his face. “Well, if you know any tech billionaires-slash-astronauts-slash-models, you can introduce me.” She carelessly dropped the bloodied towel on the ground and straightened up, pulling Eris to his feet. “Are you finally ready to leave?”

The ride back to Eris’s house was in companionable silence. Nesta had led Eris by the hand through the main reception area, ignoring all the people who tried to stop her and ask what had happened. Oddly enough, she seemed in a better mood now, and Eris didn’t want to ruin it. She walked him to his front door and he dallied unlocking it, unsure if inviting her inside would be taken well and not wanting to scare her off.

“Well that was…” Eris trailed off, searching in vain for a polite description of the evening. “Terrible.” Nesta chuckled, which he took as a good sign. “But it wasn’t all bad. Let me know if you want to piss anyone else off.”

Nesta hummed thoughtfully. “You know, there’s a really shitty barista at the coffee shop on campus. I bet you could make him cry in less than five minutes.”

Eris’s heartbeat quadrupled. Unless he was mistaken, that sounded like a coffee date. “Yeah? I’d be down for that.”

Nesta grinned and leaned forward, pressing her cool lips against his cheek. “Great. I’ll call you.”

With a hand on his cheek, he watched Nesta get in her car and drive away until she was completely out of sight.

[sabertoothjello]

I finished All the Hidden Paths by Foz Meadows. So good. I loved it.

You know that vibe from A Taste of Gold and Iron that’s just “you two are such fucking idiots about each other”? THEY ARE JUST SUCH FUCKING IDIOTS ABOUT EACH OTHER and I love it.

Spoilers under the cut.

(Although the spoilers are more vibes than specific plot points honestly.)

So. The end of my copy of A Strange and Stubborn Endurance had a snippet of this and it was enough for me to know that the plot line was going to include attempts at seducing one or both of the boys into an affair. (This is barely even a spoiler - that’s the prologue.)

I was NERVOUS. I hate “are they cheating oh no what do i do” plots. I hate when there’s chapters and chapters of angst and drama that could be solved by a simple fucking conversation. I spend the whole time frustrated and annoyed and yelling at the book “JUST FUCKING TALK” and that’s not a pleasant reading experience for me.

Foz did not do this, and I could not be more grateful. From Moment 1, these two idiots trust each other and care about each other more than anything else in the world (okay yes except for Markel, WE KNOW VEL). At no point do either of them actually think the other did anything. They both worry that the other will think they did, but there is never any doubt or suspicion or mistrust.

And I loved it. It makes the story so much more compelling. These two ADORE each other (btw Vel is HILARIOUSLY oblivious to his own feelings like I mean SAME babes, but COME ON) and they trust each other and if you take that away, then WHAT IS THE POINT OF THE STORY.

I cannot even begin to express how glad I am that my yelling about this book (to my dog) was “SEE? Do you see how PERFECT THEY ARE TOGETHER???” and not begging fictional characters to talk to each other. That’s a stupid conflict to have in a story. It’s cheap, you can do better.

Do they have trouble communicating? Yes, absolutely. Does it make perfect sense for their personalities, their histories, their traumas? YES. Was I so fucking glad that Markel looked at Cae and said “you shouldn’t have left him” because Cae is a damn idiot? YES.

This is a LOVE STORY, not because they had to contend with accusations of infidelity, but because, in every single fucking moment, both of them knew with 100% certainty that this man who they love would not do that to them.

The trust, the loyalty, the honor, the respect, the pure honest CARE is important and meaningful. Even Vel, who has only known shitty, toxic relationships, is a good man and a good husband and that is important. He tries, he wants to be, he works hard at it.

Like, that poor man gets bitchy with his husband and realizes UM SHIT I can’t just walk out and see what happens WHAT DO I DO and then he does his best. That’s what you do, Vel. Your best.

(Markel’s “bold of you to assume that Velasin has ever been wrong” was PRICELESS)

The love confession was glorious. GLORIOUS.

(Side note, CAE LIKES SMART MEN and I love him for it.)

As someone who doesn’t do the politics and people shit either, I love EVERY second of Vel figuring shit out and asking questions and staying calm until it’s worth losing his shit, and I adore Cae just sitting there, watching him and being like “I have never wanted anything more in my life than I want you right now”. GOOD FOR YOU CAE GET YOUR MAN.

I’ll need a reread because plot points blur together for me until I get a second time through, but I’m basically ready to flip back to the front and start right now 😂

Also, apparently I love a good “oh no, this stranger I’m stuck with every minute of every day is really hot and I want to jump his bones” (both of these stories and AToGaI, THANKS FOZ AND ALEX) so that was also fun.

They’re adorable and stupid and I love them.

[dumbass-duo-showdown]

Propaganda for Wayne & Raj

their biggest goal in life is to be pro hockey players together (they're been on the same hockey team since they were children) but if that doesn't pan out, they plan to become beekeepers together because "they both really like syrup." they are so clinically stupid. they think cabbages are fruit. one of them eats things in his sleep and hacks it up like a cat. one of them decided the best time to come out was while falling down the side of a mountain. they think action movies are real.

Two hockey jocks who are best friends. They are smart when it comes to hockey, but not much else. Examples: they think cabbage is a fruit and that syrup comes from bees.

these idiots i love them so much. in the first episode, they didnt know how voting someone OFF THE ISLAND worked when everyone else did. they voted for each other. they think bees make maple syrup. they get convinced that everything on tv is fake, leading them to believe THEYRE fake bc theyre on tv. wayne will apparently eat random shit in his sleep. raj immediately thinks of sports teams when certain animals are mentioned. they have so many double confessionals. theyre besties your honor

Quite literally silly himbo jocks. They fought a cassowary and lost. They voted for each other in an elimination game because they thought voting gave them safety. They sent a guy to a hospital during a tripping prank. Canonically refers to selves as "a hot dog type"

silly hockey bros

They think bees make syrup, enough said

Everytime they were on screen they shared only one braincell

They're both just iconic!!! Firstly these two are inseparable.They do everything together!!! There:s so many amazing scenes with them. Wayne is a suped supportive ally of Raj and Bowies relationship.

They are besties and they are equally so, so silly. What really takes the cake here is that they both genuinely believe that all television shows and movies are real, and when they find out they’re not, they say “At least we can still trust wrestling. :)” They’re hockey players but, if that doesn’t work out for a career, they said they wanted to be beekeepers because they both like syrup. They lost their fake hockey beards and Wayne’s immediate response was, “Maybe I ate them in my sleep!!” And when he starts trying to hack them up, Raj just says, “Wayne’s good at this. :)” During a challenge, Raj lands in a pit of tapioca pudding and instantly assumes it’s vomit, meanwhile Wayne lands on an angry bull and asks, “Why is this cow so mad?! :(“ Wayne calls a skull a “head bone,” Raj calls cabbages “leafy balls.” They’re so supportive of one another and they’re always looking out for each other.

They are both so silly and stupid and they are adorable must watch the season they are in.

“If we don’t go pro” “which is crazy! Cause we’re totally going pro.” “That’s right. But iiiiiiif we don’t? We both really love—“ “syrup.” “So we’re gonna become beekeepers!”

[taiyami]

1, 3, 4 and 5 for both Jounouchi and Yugi please!

!! YES CHEF RIGHT AWAY !

My darling Jounouchi Gnocci and Yugi Boogie..

1. Okay yall are going to kill me. I never watched pokemon and I played like 2% of platinum growing up. I also never watched Digimon. SO! I'm going to do what I do best and assign them a BIRD ! ! !

I was kind of torn on Yugi, I really want him to be a belted kingfisher because they're one of my childhood favorites (and to me? Fit his energy?) They don't really stand out with any extraordinary behaviors though, so I'm also placing him with a parrotlet.

Parrotlets are the smallest parrot species and they're mischievous little birds that are SO sweet and extremely smart, they fit him very well. I hope to own one some day ^_^

-> Jou was SUCH an easy choice for me, what immediately came to mind was some kind of corvidae family member. I think he could be a jackdaw, but Scrub Jay's are soo him to me <3 They're pretty smart, playful, have big barks and are very under-appreciated birds! Just like our Jou.

3. Favorite Canon Looks?

-> This question haunts me because I love pretty much all of Yugi's outfits, including the stupid capsule monster filler arc armor suits 😭 Yugi was one of my biggest fashion idols growing up as a queer emo kid. I'd have to say his classic DK/S0 outfit is truly my favorite if I had to pick one. The symbolism of his thick leather vest that connects to his choker underneath his normal school uniform has always been eye catching for me. I also much preferred the rope on the puzzle compared to his silver chains. Very nostalgic look for me. (CLOSE TIE WITH HIS ANZU DATE OUTFIT <3)

-> Joey baby.. okay so I'm kind of lame, I LOVE. His battle city fit, I think it's so him. The sneakers, the baggy T-shirt, I also think the colors of this palette suit him well. I also like his wtd arc outfit, which is kind of similar vibes.

4. What movie(s) do you think they would not be able to stand?

This is so difficult.. I'm going to say Jounouchi isn't much of a fan when it comes to musicals or psychological thrillers. He seems like the warrior of the week film guy. He might groan about them in front of Honda but he will watch any chick flick with Shizuka. Hes surprisingly thoughtful about them too!

Yugi .... oh man, I don't know. He seems like he'd be a really big film nerd but at the same time he's not? He enjoys movies that have all sorts of twists and turns and also ones that are bold and not very subtle (FANTASY FAN). I think he'd have problems with very Film Bro movies? He doesn't understand the appeal of them and almost always finds plot holes within them that can never be explained.

5. What is a gentle memory they might have?

-> I personally think Yugi has SO many sweet memories of himself and his grandpa when he was growing up. He is such a grandpa's boy.. he remembers so many times that Grandpa was tucking him into bed at night and telling him stories of magic and fantastical creatures and adventures in his younger days.

-> And we know Jou has SO many memories of him and his sister as a kid. I doubt all of them were entirely gentle and more bittersweet leaning. Coming from a big brother like myself, I could see Jounouchi distracting her from their parents fighting by coloring with her or playing outside. But after they get reunited as teenagers, I bet they have all sorts of fun new memories together like finding the BEST spot to get pizza or biking to the beach every now and then together 🥹💓

YOUR HONOR. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH?

Character Questions!!

[heliads]

Okay, this particular request has been on my mind for a hot minute and I feel like I have to send it to you before I forget again, SO:

May I please request Han Solo with a gender-neutral Reader?? Reader travels with him and Chewie on the Falcon as a smuggler and is really good at what they do, but is also pretty quiet and doesn’t really talk much, which Han’s kind of always playfully teasing them about. One night the three of them are at a bar on a small planet when they get in trouble and for some reason Reader… has to sing for the entire bar to get them out of it?? (I don’t know, maybe someone at the bar suggests getting one of them to put on a show so they can humiliate them or something.) But it turns out that the Reader, who’s always so quiet, actually has the voice of an angel, and the entire time they’re singing Han is looking at them with a mixture of shock and heart eyes. And then when they’re done and come back to Han and Chewie Han asks what the hell that was and the Reader just shrugs and is like, “You never asked if I could sing.” And Han Solo, Big Bad Outlaw, knows right then and there that he is totally screwed and in love.

I am so sorry if this request is stupid or if it makes no sense, I promise you don’t have to write it (😅). But if you do decide to, thank you so much, and I hope you’re doing well, gorgeous!! 💛💛💛

raven i LOVE YOUR REQUESTS SO MUCH

masterlist

Space is cold. Dark. When you’re stuck in a smuggler’s usual shuffle from planet to planet, offworld to onworld to the nothingness of space again, it’s easy to think that you’re the only one out there. You see a thousand stars, and they’re different each time you blink. You’ll never find your way back, if there was a place to return to. You find people you can tolerate and cling to them, hope they’ll stop the restless churning of your heart to start running and never slow down.

Space is lonely. That’s why you stopped doing the solo smuggling act and joined up with two other outlaws in the hopes that it would make you relax enough to sleep at night. It’s worked well for the most part, and then some twilights are like this one, when you’re perched up on the roof of your ship, staring at the sky above and wondering if anyone, anyone, is looking back at you.

Your shipmates can’t blame you for sneaking out. They’re messing around in the nearby township right now, probably landing themselves in debt or coming up with a brilliant plan to get themselves out of it. That sort of stuff isn’t really your scene; gambling must be taken in small doses, by your preference, so you elected to stay behind and watch the ship.

That wasn’t a problem in the beginning, but recently, one of your business partners has been starting to smart at the fact that you don’t want to go wreck some credits with him. Han Solo has been a lot of things at a lot of times, but you never took him for sentimental.

In all honesty, you’re not quite sure how to describe him, nor this recent change in his opinion. When you first met Han, he was sort of reluctant to take you on. It had been him and Chewbacca for the longest time, and although Han makes his bank by being versatile, change like that is hard to accept. You’re damn good at what you do, though, and soon enough he had to admit that having someone else watch his back couldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

It was easier after that, once the contracts were signed and you swore with all a smuggler’s honor that you would never steal his goods and money and leave him high and dry on some world neither of you recognized. Honor among thieves is a treacherous sword with which to guard your hopes, but you and Han operated around the same sort of moral codes, so you figured you could trust him pretty well.

You were friends after that. Sort of. Han’s Han, of course, he’d charm anyone out of anything. By contrast, you were perfectly content to hang back in the shadows, or hide up on the roof of the Millennium Falcon to watch the stars burst in the sky instead of heading to another gambling den.

That didn’t bother Han in the start. Half the time, he’d win a little too quickly and the rest of his card players would chase after him, guns blazing, so having someone available to fire up the ship and get him out of there was a nice ace in the hole.

Lately, though, he’s started wheedling you a little more to come with him. Says he gets lonely when he can only count on one other life form present in a room to not want him dead. You’re a quiet person, always have been, but that doesn’t stop Han from trying to convince you to come with him anyway. Doesn’t matter, though. He’ll tease you half to death but still give up eventually when he knows there’s no changing your mind.

He’s started coming back earlier and earlier, though. Sometimes he’ll stagger into the Falcon past dawn, eyes still bright with happily won credits, but you don’t think you’ve seen him out there later than midnight in quite some time.

Take right now, actually. He’s only been gone for a standard hour or two when you catch sight of him traipsing back to the ship. Chewie barks out a greeting up to you when he gets close enough, and Han raises a hand, cheeky like always.

To your surprise, though, Han climbs out of the top access port to join you within a few moments. He takes a seat on the roof of the ship next to you, hands propped up behind him so he can stare at the sky.

“Nice night,” he remarks casually.

You arch a brow. “I never took you for a stargazer. Are you going to write a poem or something pleasant about it, too?”

Han chuckles. “I’ll leave the romantics to you, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve got a rhyme or two stuck in that introverted head of yours.”

“Mmm,” you pretend to agree, “they’re all about the nice, kind boys I’ve met on other planets. Totally unlike the card shark I’m stuck with right now.”

“Hey,” Han protests, “I’m more than a card shark.”

“Yeah, you’re a flyboy too. Head stuck in the clouds even more than me.” You reply.

A beat after you say them, you wonder if the words are a little too mean, crossing the line from banter to plain insults. When Han starts to laugh, though, you get this odd feeling that if it were anyone other than you saying them, he would be mad. Instead, he grins, does the thing where he closes his eyes and shakes his head derisively as if he couldn’t possibly believe that you were saying such a thing to him, nor that he would be so proud that you did.

“I always love your fire,” he grins, “Remind me why it’s always directed at me, though?”

“You’re the closest,” you tell him.

“I am,” he says affectionately.

You’re looking at the stars. He’s looking at you. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see him opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to rally his spirits to say something. It’s important, whatever this is, but instead–

“D’you want to go drinking with us tomorrow night? We found a good place. Great place. We probably won’t even get shot upon arrival.” Han sort of winces as he says it. This might not have been what he truly wanted to say, but he’s said it anyway.

“Sure.” The word is out before you can stop yourself. It’s not usually your scene, but you get the feeling that there’s more riding on this than just a round or two of watered down drinks.

“Really?” Han asks, surprised.

You swat him on the shoulder. “No need to seem so stunned. I do go out on occasion.”

“Oh, I know,” he says, “Just glad it’ll be now.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

A growl sounds from the inside of the ship; Chewie saying that he needs your help fixing up a part of the Falcon that’s been shoddy and sparking for some time now. You take it as a sign of both their trust that they’ll let you poke around on their beloved starship, even if you wish you hadn’t been wanted inside right now. Judging by the look on Han’s face, he’s thinking along the same lines.

“Well, I’d better go,” you say. It’s somewhat unnecessary to tell him this, given the fact that Han heard Chewie just as well as you did, but it fills the empty silence for at least a few more seconds.

Han nods, looks away, and you slip back inside the ship. You wait for the sound of his footsteps on the metal surface, but he stays out there a while longer, quiet. Unlike himself. You try to distract yourself with spark plugs and egregious amounts of rust in control panels, but the thoughts return soon enough, chasing themselves over and over in your head with thoughts of what could have and should have been if you had not left at that very moment.

You do your best to push the whole affair out of your head soon enough. Han’s your friend, sort of; your business partner, definitely. He makes his money off of convincing people of things and feelings that don’t exist. You can’t trust a single flirt or joke until he says something for sure.

Still, you know things. You know how he looks at you when he thinks you can’t see. You know that Han hasn’t stayed the night with a single girl in a long time. Stars, he doesn’t even dance with them unless he has to, and when someone buys him a drink, half the time he’ll just give it to you.

This is all just improper speculation, though, and it would do you good to ignore it all until something real happens. Until then, you keep up with your business contacts, you focus on what you’re supposed to be doing, and when Han reminds you that you agreed to go drinking with that night, you try not to feel like the whole world is falling to pieces.

It would be fun to get out of the ship, though, to have some fun in between risking your neck on endless jobs. You put on flashy clothes you haven’t worn in a while, you clean the engine grease out from under your fingernails, and when it takes Han several moments to pick up his jaw from the floor when he sees you before you leave, you count every one of the heartbeats that passes before he stammers out that you should get going soon.

He hasn’t been to this bar in a while, Han admits. He heard good things about it, but who really knows around these parts? You remind him that his criteria for ‘good things’ only include cold drinks and not getting killed on sight. He tells you that anything more than that is picky, and you laugh. It’s easy. It’s not something that you have to worry about, and you don’t have to double-check your every word to make sure you’re not embarrassing yourself. You’ve never had to think like that before, and it’s strange to do it now.

Han points out the club, reaches it first, holds the door open for you, which is strange. Everything feels new. You feel like a teenager who’s overgrown their welcome at home just enough to set off for brighter, more distant worlds, someone without the slightest clue how to operate on a planet that isn’t theirs. There should be a travel guide in your back pocket, a map in your hand, and memorized helpful phrases on your tongue, but instead all you have is the presence of mind to walk through the door and pretend that nothing is wrong.

You order a drink, which is something you can do without needing to watch Han out of the corner of your eye. You do it anyway. He is too present in this transformed world of yours. You are conscious of every word you say, how you thank the bartender for your drink, all the muscles necessary to down a swallow or two.

Han gets a drink too. The light is dim here; it makes it easier for patrons to lose track of time, their peace of mind, how many credits they’ve spent already. It makes it easier to forget just why you don’t come with Han every time. His knuckles are white around his drink like it’s a stuck knob on his bank of controls. He can straighten out, straighten up, if he just tightens his grip enough.

Before either of you can figure out where you’re going from here, the restless chatter of the bar turns to sharp, hard-edged syllables. There’s a man in front of the two of you, he’s come out of the back room to yell at the two of you. He’s the owner of this place, or so he claims, and he’s just about had it with smugglers coming in his town and drinking his product and wasting his money.

Turns out Han swindled him a few days ago, and now the owner wants payback. Han stands up slowly, raising his hands in mock surrender as if that gesture does anything but get his hands closer to his blasters, but the owner isn’t having any of it.

The bar owner scoffs, spits on the ground. “None of your tricks, Solo. You’ve given me too much trouble already. Years of it.”

Han frowns exaggeratedly. “Years of it? You’re crazy. This was just one bad time, that’s all.”

The owner shakes his head. “Wrong. You were here just last year, broke five of my glasses and convinced my best singer to resign.”

You glance over at Han with a surprised laugh you’re only barely able to hold back, and mouth five? at him. He purses his lips and whispers back that he’ll explain later. You can’t wait to hear that story.

It might have to come later, though, because the owner of this place is getting more annoyed by the minute. “Do you know how hard it was to replace her? Sales have been down ever since, and it’s all because of you. Empty stage tonight since she went and told everyone lies about my business practices.”

“I don’t think they were lies–” Han begins, but you cut him off before he can land you in even more hot water.

“You said you needed a singer?” You ask as innocently as you can, “I can sing tonight if we can go home without trouble afterwards.”

The owner and Han both turn to you with identical expressions of confusion.

“You will?” The bar owner asks.

“Sure,” you tell him, “but I want your word that we’ll leave without a single injury and no more credits paid than for our drinks tonight. Two songs and I’m done.”

“Three,” the guy argues.

“Three it is,” you say, and thankfully the owner backs off.

The second the tension ceases, Han turns to you with a bewildered expression on his face. “What is this about? Why are you telling him you’ll sing?”

You put a hand on his arm. “Relax, Han. I’m handling the situation, which you weren’t, by the way. Just roll with it and don’t start any more fights.”

“I don’t start fights,” Han retorts indignantly, “that guy totally came up to us first.”

You roll your eyes. “Same difference. This’ll be over in a heartbeat, don’t sweat it.”

Han looks like he wants to contest that, but you’re being directed up to the stage and then you’re up there with everyone looking at you and maybe, just maybe, Han was right about this being a mistake. You know one thing that Han doesn’t, though, and that’s that you’ve been singing for a while. It was a hobby of yours before smuggling became your main career, but you’ve been keeping up with your voice for a long time.

It’s just enough for you to get through the agreed upon three songs without much difficulty. They’re easy, especially since you convince the guy to get you some backing tracks so it’s not just your voice alone in all that stillness. By the end of your little show, you’re honestly enjoying yourself. It’s fun, and the dizzying round of applause that greets you when you’re finally done is certainly something to behold.

The bar owner sticks to his word, letting you and Han go without a fight. He even encourages you to come back any time you want, provided you repeat this sort of performance, that is. You just laugh and tell him that you’ll have to see about that.

You’re distracted, honestly. You’re not thinking about the bar or the show or anything, actually. All you can see is the expression on Han’s face, the way his eyes widened when you first started singing, how he had this awestruck look that stayed up throughout your whole performance and is still there now, even after you finished.

It’s like he’s never seen you before. Yes, that’s right. Like he thought he knew everything about you just to be totally blown out of the water. Even as the two of you walk back to the ship, Han keeps tripping over smooth ground because he can’t stop looking at you. Like he never wants to stop.

“What is it?” You ask at last, once the adrenaline rush of the show wears off and you start to question everything; if it had been good or not, if this is something that will change how the two of you speak forever.

“Nothing,” Han says quickly, “nothing. I just didn’t know you could sing. You never told me.”

You shrug as casually as you can. “You never asked.”

Han doesn’t seem to think this is an acceptable explanation. “Well, how much else is there about you that I don’t know just because I never asked?”

You smile. “A lot, actually.”

A pause. He looks back at you again, and then you see something click in his eyes, a realization of what you have not said and what he has not asked.

“Damn it,” he says all of a sudden.

You stare at him. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Han mutters through a flurry of avoided glances and dismissive gestures, “Nothing at all. Just. Get back to the ship, will you? We’ve got places to be. You’ll be there, right?”

“Sure I will,” you tell him, “Aren’t I always?”

“You are,” Han says, and then his face loses that wide-eyed, frenzied stare it had wielded only seconds before. He’s calm again, sure of himself, but not as arrogant as usual. Just– happy, almost. Content in a knowledge that had not been his to cherish before. “I know you are.”

requested by @starlit-epiphany, i hope you enjoy!

star wars tag list: @rogueanschel, @callsign-scully

[dreamyeyedrose]

"Letters, after the bestie"

To my mother,

Have you figured out how little you've seen of me until now? Do you realize how little you see, even still?

To my father,

Mom keeps saying you've changed. Have you really? I still hear the kitchen floor clattering of broken glass and cutting words every time I see you.

To my dearest and only elder sister,

Wasn't life so much easier when you had an assigned enemy? How are things now, though? We haven't had a real conversation in almost a decade, you know. I'm dying to know how you are, and lucky for you it'll kill me all the same.

To the playground peanut gallery,

I'm glad to have been the outgroup, to encourage your ingroup bonding. It's so cute when children have their little friend groups. Do you still giggle and laugh as much as you did then? It's weird how I smile and laugh more often now, compared to back then.

To the CPS officer that should've known better,

You were right, everything is more okay now, after I've gotten up, and dusted myself off. But what you thought was baking soda, I've always known was powdered plutonium. Let's pretend this powerful third eye has always been here, I have a feeling it'll help you sleep better. At least I'm one of the ones that are doing better. Are you?

To my eighth grade Honors English teacher,

The thing about the cool quirky Uncle-Iroh-core humanities teacher in the movies is that they're actually smart, and they actually care. And, just saying, if the pick-me that reads instead of having friends tries to communicate in the way those main characters "accidentally" alert the right adult to certain things. They're able to take the hint, and not instead tell Goliath to burn down any forest David could source wood from. You stupid cunt.

To my old coworkers,

I promise you I'm mentally ill. No, I know you think it's "maybe I just think that because I don't drink coffee." That's the masking. And my cotton candy energy drinks are more my brand anyways. Y'all should know this, since you all used to joke about it at least once a week.

Dear me,

We did, eventually, do one even better than "proving them all wrong." We get to keep proving ourselves right. I wish I could've told you about it sooner. But I promise to keep you updated and take pictures the rest of our life.

To all the people I've loved more than myself:

I have a new favorite in town.

He's always been better than you.

And I guarantee you he loves just me more than all the love you can ever comprehend. And the best part is that I am not the only love his heart knows. Too bad the mirror gets in between our lips.

[yandere-kittee]

Okay.. I may or may not already like Aiko… BUT OTHERWISEE I’d like to request one with her with a very Smart reader like as smart as her. But they aren’t interested in knowing them or becoming friends or dating since they’re focusing on their studies. So I’d want to see that type of relationship like enemies, one sided love, etc.. like they might compete who gets top score on the new test type of stuff or if she falls in love with smart reader

Eeeee I love this so much! I've been having an enemies to livers idea forming in my head and this was just the motivation I just needed ٩( ᐛ )و

Enchanted to meet you.

I had mentioned before that Aiko looks for a smart person for a significant other, and it's a bonus if you manage to fit into her high standards, her Mom raised no one who settles for less.

She knows her worth and knows she deserves someone who is just as smart as her, but not more because she should always be the one to be at the top of her class and school.

Well, that was before you came.

You transferred from your school to hers (Which as a private Institute and is very prestigious. ) You we're only a year younger than her and was in the same level and class. (In this case you were like the youngest in the class.)

She didn't mind you at all, since you weren't exactly interesting looking or someone who will be a threat to her grades, so she didn't care nor did she glance your way.

But during the test the teacher had told you, you didn't need to take the test at the moment since you had but transferred and try didn't know if you knew about the topic the quiz was based on, but you declined and said that you were actually fine and took the test.

Aiko thought you we're stupid because she assumed you only took the test because you didn't want to be left out in the test.

But when the results came in, she thought you would fail of the sort but, when it came to announcing about those who got the perfect score, she wasn't alone.

The teacher had congratulated you as she anded you your paper, the class clapped for you, cheering for you and such.

She's never had that sort of reaction before.

The students didn't like her since she was a 'bitch' and a know it all, unlike you who actually got along with others, for the first time in her life, Aiko had felt, threatened.

She now had someone who was a worthy opponent.

Aiko will fight you with all that she has, motivating her to study more just to be at too while you we're under her, though it didn't help when both of you were the only ones getting perfect scores.

But only one will remain number one.

Aiko did not let it show when card giving came and the Honor's list were to be announced.

Aiko glared at you when your name was announced and the class erupted in cheers when you walked up to the front of the class to receive your certificate of honors.

Overall, the relationship you two have is complicated but to describe it in simpler terms it's Academic Rivals to Friends? Lovers? Who knows, the both of you graduated before she could confess to you.

Academic Rivals where Aiko only saw you as her rival that she has feelings for while you thought of her as the cute smart girl in your class.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

That is all! I hope you liked this because this request took a little longer than others but glad I was able to post it now!

Follow me for more Yandere content! More posts to come since I have about 2-3 requests? That I still have to do. Don't be afraid to drop by my ask box and request me.

Requests are open!

[sl-newsie]

Chapter Ten: Just A Fairytale  (Spot Colon x Female Newsie)

Afta I dry my tears, I begin to walk back. By now it’s sunset- my favorite. It’s a gorgeous pink melt’n into orange. I’s just about there when I hear behind me:

“Um, Becca?”

I turn and see Les, almost cower’n behind a lamppost. His face is so sweet!

“Hey! Hey, Les. What’s wrong? Are ya ok?” I kneel down.

He nods. “Um… would you mind walking me home?” he asks in a small voice. “David’s still with the others, and they’re all still drinking at Tibby’s.”

I sigh. Well, that’ll be fun to come home to.

“No problem, Les! Ya don’t need ta be so skittish- I don’t bite!” I tickle his sides, mak’n him squeal. “Just show me where ya live.”

I take his hand and let him lead me through tha streets. A few bums check us out, but I give them a threat’n glare and they buzz off. We soon get to a brick apartment building, and there’s a goil stand’n at tha door with her arms crossed.

“Les! Where have you been?! Do you know what time it is?” She asks scold’nly.

“Sorry Sarah. I-” Les starts.

“Where’s David?” she asks worriedly.

Sarah? Sarah! So this is tha goil who’s stolen Jack’s heart! Not bad by tha look of her, and she’s certainly responsible. But I’s still suspicious...

“Don’t worry, miss. He’ll be back soon. I’ll make sure of it,” I say assurin'ly.

She narrows her eyes. “Les, why are you with this boy?”

My eyes go wide, then I get it. “Oh! I’m sorry! It’s tha cap, ain’t it?” I take it off and let my hair down, earn’n a surprised look from ‘Sarah.’

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know-”

“No worries. Happens all tha time.”

“And who are you?”

I smirk. “I’s tha one who determines whedda or not you’s eva see’s Jack again.”

Her smile drops to a concerned look. “Excuse me?”

“I’s Jack’s sista.”

Sarah's smile returns. “Oh! You must be Becca! Jack’s told me all about you! David’s mentioned you before as well!”

“Oh he did, did he? Well then you know I ain't one ta mess around with. If I’s eva hear you’s done someth’n to Jack…” I trail off threat’nly and hold up a fist.

Sarah shakes her head. “Oh no, Becca. I would never do anything to hurt him. He’s so sweet and kind, and-”

I gag. “Alright, alright! I get tha pitcha! But I’s still keep’n my woid, ok?”

She nods.

“Good. But I gotta tell ya, it’d be good ta have a sista. Liv’n only with boys can get on yer nerves a lot!” I roll my eyes.

Sarah looks relieved. “Thank you for your approval! I- I hadn’t thought about marriage yet, but I’m very honored that you’d want me as a sister. Maybe if Jack feels the same-”

“Oh, he does!” I say assurin’ly. “You’s all he eva talks about! Believe me, he’d be stupid not to ask ya!”

“Oh, well… oh my. I’ve always wanted to find true love. Just like something out of a fairy tale! What about you, Becca?”

“What?”

“Do you have a special guy?”

I snort, try’n to wave my true feel’ns away. “No! Luv’s for suckas, ‘sides I ain’t eva been kissed!”

Sarah frowns. “Don’t you want to?”

“Well, I… Yeah, I guess I do. That’s my wish, even if it is stupid.” I confess, hop’n she doesn’t think it’s childish.

“That’s not stupid, Becca. Trust me, you’ll find out one day.”

“Yeah… Well, it’s late, and Les here’s tired as it is. I’s bedda be go’n.” I turn ta leave. “And don’t worry! I’ll have David back here within ten minutes!” I call back.

“Goodnight, Becca!”

“Thanks for walk’n me home!”

I smile. Such a happy family. It’s no wonder Jack luvs her so much...

When I get back, finally, I immediately notice all the boys are kinda drunk. All except David, who was smart enough ta stay sober. When he sees me, he rushes up.

“Becca! Where’s Les?! I can’t find him! Is he-?”

I grip his shouldas. “Relax, relax! Don’t worry, I took him home, he’s ok! Sarah made sure of it!” 

David closes his eyes and sighs in relief. “Thank you. Thank you!” He gives me a tight hug, then realises what he’s do’n and lets go awkwardly. “Um, sorry.”

I frown. “‘Bout what? Giv’n a hug? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, it’s just… you’re a girl and-”

“Just ‘cause I’s a goil don’t mean all tha modest niceties appeal to me. See me as a friend, not a vase, David!” I stifle a laugh. “I’s ain’t gonna break!”

This lightens him up a bit. 

“Um… ok. I gotta say, you seem more street smart than one might think.”

I smile. ‘Don’t forget I’s book smart too.”

David looks surprised. “Really? How?”

“I-” I hesitate, then decid how much I wanna spill. “I was in school ‘til I was 12, then I dropped out ta sell papes.”

“Sounds familiar. I started selling because my father can’t find work.”

“That’s a shame. I hope things get bedda for ya.”

“Thanks-”

Suddenly, we both hear a crash upstairs. David looks at me apologetically.

“I’m sorry, but the rest of the guys are-”

“Drunk so hard they’s nearly passed out?”

“Almost. I’m sorry, I couldn’t get them to stop drinking.”

“Forgetaboutit. They’s woulda drank even if you weren’t there. I’m just glad they’s all back here safe and sound!”

“It wasn’t easy,” David admits.

Now I give him a hug, which at foist he tenses up at but then relaxes. 

“Thank you. I really appreciate it, and I’m sure they’s all will to in tha morn’n. You’ve done plenty, and I’s told Sarah that you’d be back soon. So take off!” I turn him around and gently shove him towards tha door.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright with them?”

“Yeah, I’s done this routine before.”

“Goodnight, Becca.”

“G’night!”

I wave goodbye and then head upstairs.

“Hey Becs!”

“Hey Beccy!”

I smile at tha younga boys. “Hiya kids. How’s Skippy do’n?”

“Bedda. He says ya jumped ova him while he was sleep’n!” Kenny says.

“How’d he know that if he’s was sleep’n?” I ask. All I get is mischievous giggles. “It’s late- you’s should all be sleep’n! Get ta bed!” I usher them off and then head up tha my bunkroom, where it’s so noisy I’m surprised Kloppman hasn’t thrown a fit!

I open tha door ta find all tha newsies laugh’n and hang’n onta tha bunks.

“Hey guys, it’s Beccy!” Mush unevenly announces.

“Hiya Beccy!” Tha oddas shout in faltered unison.

“Alright, boys. Enough’s enough! Go ta bed! You’s be thank’n me in tha mourn’n when you’s all got hangovas!” I proceed ta shove them all towards a bunk. Some of ‘em fall right ta sleep, but oddas prove ta be a bit more resistant.

“Aw, c’mon Becs! Just have a little fun-” Race throws a pillow at me, which I catch and use to pin him onta a bunk.

“My ‘fun’ is gonna be try’n ta sleep with all of you’s snor’n tanight!”

I finally get Blink and Jack down. All that’s left is Snipeshooter, Skittery, and Mush.

“Get to bed!” I bark again, but Race and Snipeshooter lean in close while Skittery puts my arm around his shoulda and says in a disturb’n way: “Make us.”

Uh, what?! Are they’s seriously that delusional? They’s try’n ta hit on me? That ain’t happen’n!

“Fine, I will.” I say sternly. I yank my arm out and shove all three boys away, mak’n ‘em stubble fer balance. I then take my pillow off my bunk and press it ova Skittery’s face. He’s out in seconds. I do tha same ta Snipeshooter, and before I do it to Mush he mumbles: “Becca, I’ve always luved you.”

I can’t say I ain’t flattered, but I gave up on dat’n any of tha fellas years ago. When Jack began ta make tha ‘no luv’ thing clear, I just thought of all them as broddas.

Now comes tha hard part- putt’n ‘em ta bed! I try sling’n Skittery ova my shoulda, but my back screams ‘no!’, so I end up dragg’n them all one at a time ta shove ‘em inta their bunks. When I finish my work, I collapse onta my own bed- but not before swip’n anodda pillow on accounts of mine be’n soaked with drool!

When I lay down, my thoughts of Mush’s confession are interrupted by what Sarah said.

“I’ve always wanted to find true love. Just like something out of a fairy tale!”

Well, fairy tales are nice for kids, but eventually reality kicks in. I’ll neva be able ta find a guy, and my true luv’s neva gonna luv me back. Spot ain’t tha type. As fer kiss’n, it just seems… weird.

“Don’t you want to?” She had asked.

I do, I really do. But what’s tha point of wish’n for someth’n that’ll neva come true?

[just-some-random-blogger]

meow meow, hottie-cutie! good morning! some love time for the best tumblr writer! 'i understand British accents' omg you're so big brained big sister!! ig i really am a little (ironic isn't it) meow meow next to you. i'm amazed you seem to be really smart, interesting, intelligent, bright and soso lovely-lovely. (and hot yes) i would've liked to be mutuals or friends with you for real ig? no but who are we to each other... you don't really need to answer it if you don't want to. what about british accent, it's more about the speed at which they speak?? i've sent my bestie a voice message with them speaking, turned it on and heard only 'lawlawlaw'... my brain may be big (not as much as yours) but too slow... and like spoilers... i know these TT girl i've been hyperfixated on this show since idk? november? october? tumblr and wiki almost showed me it TT i know the plot pretty good. tbh, i have really mixed feelings about rhaenyra's kids and jace being her heir? bc yes love is love and he's basically still targaryen, i can understand her being a wild girl in need of personal life and freedom. but thinking about the image of targaryens as the royalties, i don't really approve this? but i'm not on the greens' side bc?? i still haven't watched the show what am i talking about TT srry if i said smth stupid. next time i'll try better. 'IMMA BONK THAT LOSER MATT SO HARD FOR MAKING YOU SAD WHY ARE YOU SAD???' omg you sound SO like an elder sister rn TT thank you TT i'm always the one who people wants to bonk their enemies for them bc of my big stature? lol i'm literally all bark and no bite, i always just stand next to my short friend who beats the shit out of everyone like the meme with a small barking dog and a big one who's afraid of the first one. srry i've got distracted. i'm grateful! your words sound really comforting to me. but it's not like smth happened. this situation (like all things i must do but also the need to watch hotd without subtitles and so on) is so... ridiculous. it's killing me. why do i sound so whiny and complaining TT srry ig this's just how i see my life. (no but hotd already made my cry a couple of times) 'that means you want me to be nervous' IM SORRY TT it's good you understood i hadn't meant it. it was late with my brain even slower. wish you strong nerves!! giving them to you with a big kiss on your big brain!! thank you sm for your support, my most comfort person!! hope you can (or already did) forgive you too. 'i’m sure the same could be said about your kitty' ok i'm gonna make it a little sad rn. that very day, after nearly attacking my mom, my cat came back to me to lay on my lap. so now i'm crying and i'm not hot TT my face is pretty ugly rn but my eyes are shiny and it's pretty ig OH YOU KNOW WHAT?? you've reposted 'I, Unfortunately, Love You Most' and i recalled i was that anon too TT maybe even your work inspired me to request 'it takes two' and ask to make it more cruel sidjdpsp i like miserable and desperate daemon. i literally have fucking huge plot abt it in my notes... *winkwink* i've got a lot of thoughts about fics about daemon and some ideas but i feel like you're too busy. and like i need to go to bed... so have a nice day! take care! love you <з

MEEEEEEEEOW

meow meowmoew meow

some love time for the best tumblr writer!

💅💅💅🥺🥺🥺🥺 purr

'i understand British accents' omg you're so big brained big sister!!

bonk 🤠 understanding chavs that go innit is gauge of big brained-ness for you ?? LOL HAHAH

ig i really am a little (ironic isn't it) meow meow next to you. i'm amazed you seem to be really smart, interesting, intelligent, bright and soso lovely-lovely. (and hot yes)

lol but ur taller that me ??? HAHAHH i am pretty smart interesting intelligent bright and soso lovely-lovely AND hot arent i HAHAHAH <3 🥺😍 idk why ur saying this suddenly but <3 im honored for the high regard lovie

i would've liked to be mutuals or friends with you for real ig? no but who are we to each other... you don't really need to answer it if you don't want to.

WE CAN BE MUTUALS! and friends (aren't we already 💔)

what about british accent, it's more about the speed at which they speak?? i've sent my bestie a voice message with them speaking, turned it on and heard only 'lawlawlaw'...

that happens. sometimes idk what my sister is saying and we speak the same languages HHHHAHAH also we speak to each other in english accents cos its fun innit

my brain may be big (not as much as yours) but too slow... and like spoilers... i know these TT girl i've been hyperfixated on this show since idk? november? october? tumblr and wiki almost showed me it TT i know the plot pretty good.

HAHAHHAH MALAY KO BA (Filipino for how would i know ig lsdfaashf it's hard to translate) yeah same i knew what was gonna happen in the show because i think i started watching the show was already like on its 7th or 8th episode i didnt feel the need to skip through spoilers tbh though sometimes i did like its fine. also big brains arent meant to be compared 😡

tbh, i have really mixed feelings about rhaenyra's kids and jace being her heir? bc yes love is love and he's basically still targaryen, i can understand her being a wild girl in need of personal life and freedom. but thinking about the image of targaryens as the royalties, i don't really approve this? but i'm not on the greens' side bc?? i still haven't watched the show what am i talking about TT srry if i said smth stupid. next time i'll try better.

first of all you didnt say anything stupid. second of all, i agree, i too have mixed feelings towards rhaenyra in general lol. i mean they're all problematic, third of all. fourth of all, they all need extensive therapy and the rod of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. fifth of all, AHAHAHHA 'love is love' goo off queen but also DAMN 3 times HAHAdiaslgfasfasfhlasfhas i get why alicent is so pissed T_T sixth of all, i also dont approve of it, lol but im glad rhaenyra has her papa on her side. seventh of all, viserys problematic af too. eighth of all, im not on black/green side either, though since rhaenyra is mostly the protagonist of the story, people are more inclined to support her because that was how she was presented. again. they all problematic af AHAHAHAH

'IMMA BONK THAT LOSER MATT SO HARD FOR MAKING YOU SAD WHY ARE YOU SAD???' omg you sound SO like an elder sister rn TT thank you TT i'm always the one who people wants to bonk their enemies for them bc of my big stature? lol i'm literally all bark and no bite, i always just stand next to my short friend who beats the shit out of everyone like the meme with a small barking dog and a big one who's afraid of the first one.

lol HAHAH idk if its me being an elder sister or just me being intense. mayhap a bit of both. i will fight anyone for people i love. idc if theyre taller than me. people that are taller than me inspire my rage even more because ??? you think your safe just cause youre head dangling up in the ceiling ??? i think not. buttttt tbh irl im a pacifist AHHAHAH fr im usually the mediator i just talk a lot of smack, but when it comes to it, i usually resolve things peacefully.

im wonho in the end 'i dont smash i want peace

you and i are the same then, all bark no bite (just a nibble i think AHHAHA)

srry i've got distracted. i'm grateful! your words sound really comforting to me. but it's not like smth happened. this situation (like all things i must do but also the need to watch hotd without subtitles and so on) is so... ridiculous. it's killing me. why do i sound so whiny and complaining TT srry ig this's just how i see my life. (no but hotd already made my cry a couple of times)

im glad i can be a comfort to you my love. its ok to feel frustrated over things that frustrate you. its better sometimes to ride it out so that you let go of the feeling more wholly. as someone who watches a bunch of foreign films/shows, i understand the frustration of finding content without subtitles you can read so its ok. idk if i cried over hotd but i did very much feel disturbed many times over

'that means you want me to be nervous' IM SORRY TT it's good you understood i hadn't meant it. it was late with my brain even slower. wish you strong nerves!! giving them to you with a big kiss on your big brain!! thank you sm for your support, my most comfort person!! hope you can (or already did) forgive you too.

'i’m sure the same could be said about your kitty' ok i'm gonna make it a little sad rn. that very day, after nearly attacking my mom, my cat came back to me to lay on my lap. so now i'm crying and i'm not hot TT my face is pretty ugly rn but my eyes are shiny and it's pretty ig

T_T MY LOVE T_T IDK WHAT TO SAY ITS GREAT THAT YOUR CATE CAME BACK BUT ALSO REALLY SAD its ok to cry if ur sad but dont let yourself be sad all the time. i kiss my pretty darling

OH YOU KNOW WHAT?? you've reposted 'I, Unfortunately, Love You Most' and i recalled i was that anon too TT maybe even your work inspired me to request 'it takes two' and ask to make it more cruel sidjdpsp i like miserable and desperate daemon.

DANG THAT WAS YOU TOO you really are my #0 fan AHHAAAHHA tbh i love cruel fics but sometimes i dont think i write it well enough lol

i literally have fucking huge plot abt it in my notes... *winkwink* i've got a lot of thoughts about fics about daemon and some ideas but i feel like you're too busy. and like i need to go to bed... so have a nice day! take care! love you <з

you can always send me your thoughts if you want to. it's really just that i get back to them a little late because of how famous i am 😎 lol but in all seriousness, im so honored so many people like my writing enough to req things from me so yeah im luv u all<3

xxx

[dhampir-dyke]

Long rambling post below, mentions of suicide n shit but WE GOOD I'm just reminiscing and thinking aloud.

So weird thinking about me aged 14-17. If you would have told me I'd live to see 21 (soon to be 22) I would have cracked tf up and said "I doubt it". I genuinely thought I'd have killed myself WAYYYY before I ever got to where I am. And- to be fair- I do still have a 'failure is not an option' mindset right now.

I remember making a deal with myself when I was 16/17 that I'd keep from attempting suicide until I turned 18 and got myself into therapy and tried medication. If they didn't work, then I'd do the deed. (Like putting an animal out of its misery.)

I also gave myself another ultimatum; if I'm still living with your parents at age 23, to go ahead and do the deed- same thing if I were to ever be faced with HAVING to move back in with them. So I either succeed and try my best to keep living and make a life for myself or I say fuck it and peace out.

(And I'm not in danger or anything, these are just facts to me. I'm doing awesome financially, physically, etc and my mental health is much better than it was. I'm finally experiencing happiness and having moments of relaxation and being able to be myself.)

I remember always trying so hard to be a good friend. I was a little weirdo but so what I still am. The friends I had I was forced to move away from due to my parents bigotry, and the friends I tried to make afterward ended up being assholes or straight up freaks. I only met my closest irl friend through my now-ex and even now I just try so hard to be the best friend I can be. I was a good kid back then, even if I did have the world's most barely-contained suicidal agony and homicidal rage stored inside my tiny scrawny body.

I was so fucking smart too..... constantly, even to this day, my parents claim that I "never put in effort" and that I was lazy- but I took so many fucking honors classes and advanced electives. In highschool I literally had taken every extra class I could take except the mathematics ones. That's how I got into weightlifting, it was one of the only choices left for me to put on my schedule cuz I had taken every other class I could possibly take. And I passed every damn class without having to retake a single one. While being actively suicidal and nearly attempting every week or so. I wasn't lazy, I was a fucking badass????? Sure I wasn't on the fuckin honor roll but I was doing better than 90% of the school for sure. ANDDDD I finished 80% of my Gen ed college classes while I was highschool. I fuckin aced our ACT's.

But if you get told you're lazy and worthless and stupid enough, even an Einstein or a Turing will feel like shit about themself.

Thinking back to those dark times in my life is so confusing and frustrating. I have no sense of what normal behavior and experiences are for that age bracket. I think about my experience and I wonder if they were really that bad- until I say them out loud to someone and they look at me like I've got 2 heads.

I remember being so little back then. I was so depressed and anxious I couldn't eat. I weighed 110 pounds soaking wet and my joints constantly ached- my hair fell out and I was constantly fatigued. Now I weigh 140-150 and I don't hurt so bad, I have more energy and I feel more comfortable with my body- but my mom made a remark that my target weight should be 100 pounds. Even though she saw how miserable and sick I was back then. I've met strangers who were better mothers to me than she was.

But now I'm 21, I've got my own apartment, an awesome job, dear friends who love me. I'm saving up money for a house, and while I'll always be passively suicidal, I no longer want to die every single day and night. I can actually experience happiness. It's so fuckin odd to me. Being 15 and struggling to keep my head above water both feels like yesterday and also a century ago.

[wasntfaira]

STEVE'S ALWAYS WORRIED ABOUT MORGAN. he hadn't gotten to watch her first couple of years growing up -- time lost in a stupid fight with tony. there was a pang of jealousy that came with pepper &* morgan all together -- the family steve hadn't gotten for himself with tony on top of his complicated relationship with the billionaire. HE'D HAD HIS CHANCE &* GIVEN IT UP FOR BUCKY. he can't regret that entirely -- not when bucky was happy &* healthy &* waiting for steve to get home , wedding band on his left ring finger , same as steve's. his only regret wasn't making amends earlier -- steve was exasperated with his ability to lose time with those he loved.

it had surprised him , too , to be named godfather. IT GAVE HIM THE CLOSURE HE NEEDED WITH TONY , THOUGH. to know the trust was still there after everything. he's grieved tony as much as pepper. it's not been something he's ever hidden from morgan ; he felt no shame at the level of intimacy he had with tony , nor the need to really explain without her asking. maintaining her image of her father was her business , not his. pepper never forbade him from telling her or purposefully hid it , as far as he knows. still ; it's unspoken for the most part. he's always wondered what morgan thinks -- he's very publicly been married to bucky for ... well over a decade now ? time was blurry for the super soldier. it's not as if his orientation , or lack thereof , was any secret. just a part of life. no forbidden topic.

one thing steve &* pepper had forbid , as a unit , was getting into the super-hero gig. steve &* bucky retired a long time ago -- passed on the shield , found a regular prosthetic. it was at the very bottom of steve's list of dream jobs for morgan. sure , she was just as smart as tony , so he had no doubts that she could do even more good than he had , but his one promise to tony post mortem was keeping her safe. he encouraged college because there were ways to honor her dad without shooting lasers. no matter how cool.

❛ I KNEW YOU'D GET IN. that's great , kid. ❜ his smile is genuine &* wide as he leans forward in his seat , arms resting on the table between them. he'd set up a ritual with her , kept in place since she was a kid -- meet him for brunch every sunday at the diner that showed off the clearest view of the avengers tower. he'd come here all the time to draw the architecture that reminded him of home ; tony's eyesore of a skyscraper had ruined his sketches once , but now he found some comfort in it. ❛ is your mom going with you on the tour ? do you want me to come ? i can wear the whole hat &* sun glasses combo to not draw a crowd. ❜ he can't shake the slight eagerness to his voice or the way his brows raise excitedly ; he gives off the golden retriever vibe with her , no matter how much he tries to rein it in to not come off as the clingy dad.

                                                There  seemed  to  be  a  misconception  with  most  people  that  because  she  was  living  her  life,  because  she  was  no  longer  spending  her  days  moping  around  the  house,  it  meant  she  was  okay.  Truthfully,  Morgan  had  spent  all  of  two  sessions  with  the  therapist  before  she'd  had  to  fight  the  urge  to  flip  him  off  and  promptly  cancelled  the  sessions.  She  still  struggled  deeply  with  her  father's  loss,  re-played  his  message  to  her  almost  daily,  questioned  if  he'd  be  proud  of  who  she  was,  but  she's  not  about  to  tell  Steve  that. 

                     Morgan  had  never  quite  understood  their  relationship.  Her  father  and  Steve's  relationship  had  been  complicated  according  to  her  mother.  She'd  asked  why  he'd  named  Steve  her  godfather  then  and  Pepper  had  struggled  with  an  age  appropriate  answer,  she  was  sure,  and  had  eventually  settled  on  that  despite  everything,  he  knew  he  could  count  on  Steve  to  make  sure  she  stayed  safe.

                     When  she  was  younger,  the  answer  had  satisfied  the  heiress  but  these  days.    .    .    not  so  much.   Sometimes  Steve  spoke  about  Tony  in  a  way  her  mother  spoke  about  him  and  it  led  her  to  have  questions  she's  not  sure  she  wants  the  answer  to.  She  shrugs  slightly  at  Steve's  words,  giving  him  a  small  smile.  "  Sure.  "  she  agrees  with  a  nod,  not  really  wanting  to  correct  him,  not  wanting  to  delve  into  that  conversation.  Instead  she  shrugs,  hands  pushing  into  pockets.  She  changes  the  subject.  "  So  I  applied  to  MIT  like  you  and  mom  suggested.  "  suggested  because  Morgan  had  harped  on  about  going  to  the  school  her  father  had  the  second  she  found  out  he  went  there.  "  I  have  a  tour  on  Wednesday,  I  start  in  the  fall,  early  admission.  I  thought  you'd  like  to  know.  "  She  should  be  proud,  and  she  is,  in  a  way,  but  she  questions  if  this  is  the  right  choice,  if  she's  going  down  the  right  path. 

                      She'd  always  wanted  to  be  a  hero,  like  her  dad,  but  Pepper  and  Steve  had  expressly  forbid  her  having  anything  to  do  with  the  Avengers,  even  if  she  was  linked  with  them  forever. 

[thee-achilles]

🦩.|very powerful (& my fav) synastry aspects/overlays.

in honor of that valentine’s day season ig.

y’all act like i know shit about synastry. 🙄😒 y’all acted right 😈 here’s some of my fave powerful synastry aspects. 🙄

anyways this is an excuse to show my hand fixation 💪😒 a literal “odd flex, but okay.” i <3 hands.

let’s get this show on the road 😈

MOON-JUNO SYNASTRY

“LET’S GET MARARRRRRIIIIEEEEDDDD” that one tiktok. you know. the one.

i see no one speak on this. it’s SO PALPABLE. my first love’s moon was conjunct my juno. it makes you love and want to marry the person even if the other aspects create a rocky relationship. you want to take care of them and a part of them wants to take care of you. if other aspects are agreeable, this makes a wonderful long-term aspect.

juno is the asteroid that rules marriage and the moon rules our emotions, femininity, attachments, and nurturing, so it makes sense that with moon-juno synastry would make the moon person super attached to the juno person and vice versa.

the juno person knows that the moon person wants to or does take care of them well. the juno person makes the moon person mushy and want to take care of them even if they’re usually not the type to do so.

juno is the ideal partner and with your emotions, the moon, agreeing with that partner, it’s mostly perfect if other synastry aspects agree.

NORTH NODE CONJ NORTH NODE SYNASTRY

need i say more? it feels like you two feel like you were destined to meet. i have north node conj north node with someone i know and before we met, our parents talked about us to each other before we even saw each other. then, when we saw each other for the first time, i could tell we got the same feeling of “oh! i know you’re that person.” before we even EXCHANGED a word with one another.

you also have a similar path in life which means you get to help each other learn and grow. it’s giving long term if other aspects say yuh like ariana.

MOON IN THE 1ST HOUSE

god save the queen! sorry. anyways, this one screams wedding bells. y’all communicate telepathically. it’s like: 💆 “bro this bitch mad annoying don’t you think?” “bro i literally was JUST about to tell you that shit” 💆

also when you nurture each other, you feel nurtured through and through. it doesn’t leave you like “man, i really wish they did dadada-” NO 🤰 it leaves you frolicking in fields. 🧎 when will it be my time. y’all manifest this for me. IF YOU LOVED ME- 🙄😿

you can read each other so easily and can predict the most outta them. y’all are each other’s personal diary. it’s giving “hugging a pillow to your chest and talking about your secrets at a sleep over” type personal. also they understand your body.. if you catch my drift. 😏 i’m talking about body language, stupid 🙄😾

JUPITER-VENUS ASPECTS

**inhale, exhale**

COME ON, BRO.

i don’t see these aspects being talked about a lot 😿 which is why i’m here 😈 to talk about them 😻💁‍♀️

it’s just basic astrology at this point. jupiter is the planet of optimism and expansion. venus is the planet of love and beauty. when you’re with each other, you feel loved and feel beautiful. it’s like there’s this entire dome of energy around you two. constant smiles, playful bickering, little nitpicking (like pulling fluff off of their sweater nitpicking... so i guess knitpicking-), and LAUGHTER. this aspect gives me eugene and rapunzel vibes 🙄.

the “husband” and the “wife” planet is what basic astrology calls these two. shouldn’t the two spouse planets be together? wouldn’t they work in harmony? bring out abundance and joy together? i rest my case. 🧳👩‍⚖️‼️❣️

MERCURY-SUN/MOON ASPECTS

y’all.

my mercury dom self lives, dies, and breathes for these.

the moon aspects make words of affirmation a love language, and synastry with moon-mercury aspects LOVE to hear the other person talk. and then they’re like “you’re so smart :)) i would’ve never thought of that!!” LIKE????? OMG????

got my heart goin pi-ah pa-ah ❤️❣️‼️‼️‼️‼️🫂🫂

also i feel like sun and mercury aspects talk ALL the time?? like they just have so much to talk about and love sharing knowledge with each other. and it’s the kind where you’re like “you know that one thing where..” and the other person is like “YES!!” and you start laughing?? it’s absolutely amazing and i love it.

VENUS-PLUTO ASPECTS

🧍uh..

**crowd screams and runs away**

UGH. okay. whatever. i’m just not like other girls 😒

lemme crack this egg. venus-pluto aspects aren’t easy shit. they put you THROUGH it. drag you by your hair and humble you. BUT IF YOU BREAK UP WITH THE PERSON YOU GOT THIS SYNASTRY WITH... whew. it’s insane. what you realize after, the blessings you receive, the lessons you learn.. it’s like taking the rose-colored glasses off. you’re a changed person. it teaches you what you want/don’t want in love and reveals to you what you need in a relationship.

i know it’s a tough aspect, but in order to love better we gotta learn some lessons, right? it helps to prepare for the one we won’t want to make those mistakes with. it can be more helpful than you think.

not only that, but it’s filled with passion and intensity. it could be my plutonic venus speaking, but 😏 i like a little bit of that 😋 just a drizzle 🤏😁 i want them to be just a bit obsessed with me 😻❤️ i deserve it i think 🙄😒‼️

moving on.

JUPITER IN 2H/8H.

I AM SLAMMING MY TABLE.

me 💁‍♀️ and 😼 benjamin 😁 franco 👍 stay 🛏at 🅰️ the 🎩 banco 💰 getting 👩‍⚖️ checks ✅ like 😈 nike 💪 everywhere 🌎 that ❣️ i 🧍 go 🫂 if 🤨 you 🙏 ain’t ❌ getting 🏆 no 🙅‍♀️ pesos 🪙 qué 😨 estás 😩 haciendo⁉️ stack 🚸 it 😻 up 🆙 like 😒 legos 🧱 quiero🧴 dinero 👩‍💻

love jlo.

truly, she said it best: “yo quiero dinero.” SO DO I‼️‼️ this aspect gives you insane amounts of luxury when you’re with this person. you could be better at the lotto with them, feel abundant, or just your energy is higher to bring in abundance.

but this aspect isn’t all about money though 😒

you could realize new things about yourself or feel more comfortable to try new things with this person. self-discovery never stops. AND it’s enjoyable⁉️ sold. it’s just you two don’t feel like you’ll get judged around each other either because you’re ALWAYS encouraging each other to try new things. jelly tbh 😒

ANY 9H PLACEMENTS

yummylicious. learning with each other and enjoying it if positively aspected :)) it’s gorgeous to have and i feel like it doesn’t get hyped up enough!

you learn things you didn’t know anything about when with each other. you two could be a vastly different, too, but somehow.. it works.

teaching each other things gently and wholesomely. love love this overlay <33.

MOON SEXTILE/TRINE MOON

telling y’all right now.

MOON CONJUNCT MOON IS A SCAM 🤬🤬 y’all will literally understand how each other feels, but like?? idk y’all won’t know how to properly nurture each other. conjunctions are also a subtly harsh aspect, y’all. remember that.

so, in turn, i offer this 🤲:

it’s almost an immediate comfort and attraction, y’all. you guys understand each other SO WELL it’s insane. you guys will know how to nurture each other in the best way. i feel like you will bring out the best of each other emotionally and know how to love the other when they’re feeling down. you guys have your own way of expressing things, but you understand each other’s form of expression. THAT’S what makes it so beautiful.

this is a 10/10 aspect tbh. cherish this. 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

JUPITER-JUNO ASPECTS

this is so cute to me.

jupiter and juno are married, right?? so... why should i explain this.. 🤨‼️

an amazingly abundant and COMMITTED partnership. learning together, being abundant, luck in this relationship, feeling lucky to be with the person..

that ☹️ should 🧍 be 🤝 me 😩 energy.

you guys have a sweet energy around each other. you may pick on each other like an old married couple, but it’s sweet and very humorous. i see you two laughing a lot and one person being charmed by the other. or this could go both ways!! :))

people can see how committed you are to each other and may even want to protect your partnership from malo. they see the value you two have for each other and they love that! this just seems so healthy to me omg.

ANYTHING TOUCHING THE IC.

and finally, this bad boy. :))

good or bad, this is extremely powerful. there is a familiar vibe to this person, and whatever it is touching your or their IC, that’s what it is. you just get that part of the person.

this could be bad if like malefic aspects are here. it could cause you to crack yourself open and see why you are the way you are.

this is amazing in friendships especially. i have this with a few of my buds on here!! <33 the banter is easy and familiar and fun. it’s so lovely omg.

if positively aspected, could mean your/their family loves them/you. :)) that’s so cute 😭😭

thank you guys so much for reading. it means the world to me. i’ve been working on this post for a few months so i could better my knowledge on synastry aspects and overlays. i hope you enjoyed!!

til next time, lovelies!! <33

©thee-achilles 2022