#drifting songs from afar (playlist)

[realmsethereal]

Basic Tag Drop.

[misshoneyimhome]

Oh! A thousand times happy birthday to the wonderful @laurenairay! 🥳

So, this is my little one-shot for your Birthday Bingo, and, unsurprisingly, I had to go with our favourite fridge for this—Freddie Big Red Andersen 🤭❤️‍🔥

I went with the exes-to-lovers, surprise, dancing, and birthday celebration tropes—because what’s a story without a little soft!Freddie, longing for the one who got away? (Cliché? Oh, absolutely 🙈💕)

I hope you enjoy the story! Wishing you the happiest of birthdays, my dear 🥰

Tropes & warnings: No warnings, exes-to-lovers, surprise, dancing, and birthday celebration, bestfriend!Auston

Word count: 2.4K

➼｡ﾟ

Summary: You and Frederik Andersen were once inseparable—until he got signed by the Carolina Hurricanes and left Toronto. The breakup was painful but necessary, or so you told yourself. You both stayed friendly from afar, never crossing paths too much.

Now, on your 30th birthday, Auston Matthews has thrown you a party, inviting all your closest friends. You don’t expect anything unusual—until you spot Frederik Andersen standing in the crowd, watching you with the same warm gaze you’ve spent years trying to forget.

_

Is It Over Now? I Frederik Andersen №

Toronto hummed with the easy warmth of summer; the city streets still familiar beneath your feet as you stepped out of the car. The evening sky stretched overhead, streaked with hues of orange and lavender, the last traces of daylight fading into the kind of night that promised memories waiting to be made.

Auston Matthews had planned the night down to the last detail. Of course, he had. He never did anything halfway, and your 30th birthday was no exception. You expected something lowkey—a simple dinner, a handful of close friends, maybe a toast or two. Instead, the moment you stepped inside the upscale private lounge Auston had rented for the occasion, you realised just how much you had underestimated him.

The place buzzed with energy, a perfect mix of NHL players, childhood friends, and familiar faces from your past. The sleek bar at the back gleamed under the warm lighting, bottles glinting like liquid gold. A DJ spun a carefully curated playlist, your favourite songs filtering through the space, setting the perfect atmosphere. Laughter and conversation swirled in the air, champagne glasses clinking in celebratory toasts.

You smiled, a little overwhelmed but mostly touched by the effort Auston had put into all of this. He knew you better than most, and he knew exactly how to make you feel special.

Then, your gaze drifted across the room.

And your breath caught.

You froze mid-step, the noise of the party dulling to a hum in the background.

Because standing near the bar, looking just as effortlessly composed as ever, was Frederik Andersen.

The air in the room shifted, though you doubted anyone else noticed.

-

It had been years since you last saw him in person. Since the day he had packed his bags for Carolina, leaving behind not just Toronto, but you.

The breakup had been mutual—or, at least, that’s what you told yourself on the nights when the bed felt too big and the absence of his warmth too cold. You had both avoided the screaming, the bitterness, the messy fights. There had been no slammed doors, no ultimatums, just a painful, whispered understanding: his career was taking him somewhere else, and you weren’t part of the transfer.

You had stood in the doorway of your shared condo, watching as he zipped up his last duffel bag, his shoulders tense.

“You could come with me,” he had said, hesitant, like he already knew the answer.

You had smiled, even though it hurt. “And leave everything I’ve built here?”

Neither of you had said it, but you both knew the truth: you had never wanted to be the person who followed him from city to city, uprooting your life for his. You had been proud of him—proud of how hard he worked, how much he deserved this new chapter—but you had dreams too. Dreams that didn’t include packing up and starting over in a new city every few years.

So, you had let him go.

-

And now, he was here.

Time hadn’t changed him much—if anything, it had only made him more devastatingly familiar. Broad shoulders, tall frame, that quiet confidence that had always made him stand out without trying. His red hair was slightly longer than you remembered, curling at the ends, and he wore a navy suit, perfectly tailored, his presence commanding without a word.

He looked good. Too good.

And worse? He looked happy to see you.

His eyes—those same brown eyes that had once felt like home—found yours instantly. His pink lips curled into a small, unreadable smile, something caught between recognition and nostalgia. Maybe something deeper.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Auston appeared beside you just then, blissfully unaware of the way your world had just tilted on its axis. Or maybe he was entirely aware and was enjoying it a little too much.

“Surprise!” Auston grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Thought you’d want your favourite Dane here.”

Your stomach plummeted.

You barely processed the words. Frederik was here.

And you? You had no idea how to react.

Do you say hello? Play it cool, act as if seeing him again didn’t unravel something deep inside you? Do you turn away, avoid the conversation altogether, pretend this wasn’t affecting you the way it so clearly was?

Before you could decide, Frederik stepped closer.

His voice, smooth and familiar, edged with that faint Danish lilt you hadn’t realised you missed, reached you before you were ready for it.

“Hey.”

One word. That was all it took.

Your mouth went dry.

"Hey, yourself."

Freddie was here. He was standing in front of you, looking at you like the past hadn’t just been collecting dust between you for years.

Like maybe—just maybe—it had never really been over.

And suddenly, your carefully constructed world felt a little less steady.

The night moved around you, filled with the warmth of celebration, but no matter how much you tried to lose yourself in conversations, in laughter, in the rhythmic pulse of the music, you could feel him.

Frederik never lingered too far.

You told yourself you were imagining it at first—that it was just coincidence that every time you turned your head, he was in your periphery. That whenever you moved across the room, he was already there, just close enough to be felt but never too close to be confronted.

But it wasn’t coincidence.

It was intentional.

You’d feel his presence before you saw him—the subtle pull of gravity that still existed between you, even after all these years.

And the worst part? You played right into it.

At first, it was polite. The careful, safe small talk.

“How have you been?”

“Good. You?”

“Same. Busy.”

Then, the teasing comments, the ones that threatened to slip into something more familiar.

“Didn’t expect to see you drinking wine instead of beer.”

“Didn’t expect you to still be wearing the same cologne.”

And each time, a look that lingered too long.

A brush of fingers as he passed you a drink.

A low laugh from him when someone made a joke, his gaze flickering to yours, as if it was meant just for you.

You tried to act unaffected, to pretend this didn’t feel like stepping into a dangerous kind of nostalgia. But it was impossible when his presence settled into your bones like muscle memory. And then, at some point, the party blurred into background noise, and suddenly it was just you and him.

The night air was crisp when you stepped onto the balcony, the city stretching wide below you, the lights glittering like scattered stars. You took a breath, trying to clear your head, willing yourself to shake off whatever this was—the ghost of something unfinished pressing against your ribs.

But then, the door behind you clicked shut. You knew it was him before you even turned around.

Frederik leaned against the railing, his navy suit jacket slightly undone now, his tie loosened just enough to make your throat go dry.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The music from inside was muffled, the sounds of the city filling the quiet between you. Then, finally, he broke it.

“Did you really think I’d miss this?”

Your heart stuttered. It was such a simple question, and yet, it knocked the air right out of you. You turned to face him, swallowing hard.

“I didn’t think it mattered.” The words were meant to be indifferent, casual. They weren’t.

Something flickered across his face, but he recovered quickly, tilting his head slightly. “It mattered.”

The way he said it—soft, certain, like there had never been a doubt in his mind—made your stomach twist.

Because if it mattered, if he had still cared, then what did that mean for everything that had been left unsaid between you?

You bit your lip, looking away. “It’s been years, Freddie.”

“And?” His voice was steady, but there was something underneath it—a quiet urgency, a hesitation, like he wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to say.

You exhaled, crossing your arms, feeling too raw, too exposed. “And you’re in Carolina.”

“So?”

You blinked. “So?”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, his fingers tapping idly against the railing. “You always did make things more complicated than they had to be.”

Your eyes snapped to his. “You think this is simple?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a step closer. And just like that, the space between you felt impossibly small.

The scent of his cologne, that same familiar blend of cedar and something uniquely him, curled around you, dragging you straight back to a thousand moments you had tried to forget.

“No,” he admitted finally, his voice softer now. “It’s never been simple with us.” The words settled between you, heavy and unspoken. Because maybe that was the truth.

Maybe it had never been simple. Maybe it had never really been over. And for the first time tonight, you wondered if you were ready to stop pretending otherwise.

The night had taken on a different rhythm, one that pulsed beneath your skin as you tried to navigate the celebration without acknowledging the man who had, once upon a time, unravelled you with nothing but a look. But avoidance was proving impossible when every step, every glance, pulled you back toward him like a gravitational force too strong to ignore.

Then came the inevitable.

Someone—Auston, Mitch, or another well-meaning instigator—decided the night wouldn’t be complete without a dance floor moment.

A slow song hummed through the speakers, the lights dimming just enough to create the illusion of intimacy amidst the crowd.

You took a half-step back, scanning for an escape, but before you could move, he was there. Frederik’s hand extended toward you, palm open, fingers steady.

“It’s just one dance,” he murmured, voice low, just for you.

You knew better. It was never just one dance with him.

Still, your fingers hovered over his for a beat too long. You could have walked away. Could have turned him down with some breezy excuse, let the moment pass.

But you didn’t.

The second your palm met his, the warmth of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you—something familiar, something dangerously close to home. He guided you to the centre of the floor, his other hand settling at your waist, and the rest of the party faded into the background.

Your movements fell into sync, muscle memory filling the spaces where words had failed you. His touch was gentle, but firm—like he was giving you an out but hoping you wouldn’t take it.

“I didn’t peg you for a dancer,” you said, the attempt at lightness feeling thin between you.

His lips quirked into something resembling a smile, though his eyes stayed serious. “You know I only dance for you.”

Your chest clenched. Because you did know.

Frederik had never been the type to make sweeping romantic gestures, but you remembered the nights he’d pulled you into slow dances in your kitchen, arms wrapped around you as he hummed some off-key melody against your hair. You remembered the way he had held you after long road trips, swaying with you in the dark, letting the quiet fill the spaces where exhaustion sat heavy between you.

Those moments had been yours.

And now, you were here, in the middle of a crowded room, moving to the same unspoken rhythm that had once bound you together.

And just then... came the confession.

“I didn’t want to leave you.”

Your breath caught. You stiffened slightly in his hold, but he didn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightened—his fingers pressing just a little firmer into your waist, like he was grounding himself.

“I asked you to come with me,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “And you said no. But I never knew how to fight for you.”

Your stomach twisted. You remembered that night—how he had asked, once, how you had hesitated just a moment too long before saying you couldn’t. And then, instead of fighting for it, he had nodded. Accepted it. Let you go.

The words struck like a direct hit, stealing the air from your lungs. Because that had been it, hadn’t it? The thing that had broken you apart. You had been waiting for him to ask again. And he hadn’t known how.

So, instead, you had both let the silence make the choice for you.

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “You never asked again.”

His eyes darkened, a flicker of regret shifting in the brown depths. “I know.”

The song swelled around you, but you barely heard it, the world narrowing to the space between you and him.

He exhaled, his forehead almost brushing against yours, the feeling of him—curling around you, pulling you back into a past you weren’t sure you had ever left.

“I should have,” he admitted softly.

Your heart twisted painfully. Because if he had? If he had asked again? Maybe everything would have been different. Maybe you wouldn’t be here now, teetering on the edge of something that felt too much like déjà vu.

The song slowed. And instead of letting go, he held on. His fingers curled against your waist. His breath was warm against your temple. And suddenly, you weren’t sure how to breathe.

Because this wasn’t just a dance. It never had been. And you had no idea how to pretend otherwise anymore.

Later that night, when most of the guests were gone, he found you again.

You had slipped outside again for air, the remnants of the party still alive in the background, but quieter now. The city stretched before you, glittering with possibility, but your thoughts were tangled with the past.

Then, his voice cut through the silence.

“I don’t want to be just your past,” Frederik said, stepping closer, his hands in his pockets, tension written in the set of his shoulders. “Not when I still want a future.”

You turned slowly, your heart beating a little too fast, a little too hard.

You hesitated. What if history repeated itself? What if you opened the door, only to watch him walk away again?

But then, he stepped forward, closing the space between you, his expression raw, open in a way you had rarely seen before. “No more what-ifs,” he promised. “I’ll fight for this if you will.”

And just like that, the choice wasn’t shrouded in silence anymore.

"I want to fight too."

For the first time in years, there was hope.

[blaire-king]

February 14, 2019

Blaire had never spent Valentine’s Day alone before. It wasn’t something she had ever planned on doing because love, after all, had always been a constant in her life. This year? Atticus was gone. Or, at least, he was distant in a way that made it clear they were over, even if neither of them had said the words out loud. She should have been heartbroken. Should have felt the absence of him like a missing limb.

But she didn’t.

What she missed wasn’t him, not really. She missed the feeling of being tethered to someone, of knowing there was one person in the world who thought of her first. She missed the assurance that, on a night like tonight, she would have someone’s hand to hold, a shoulder to rest her head against.

She tried to distract herself, flipping through her textbooks, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. No matter what she did, her mind kept drifting, slipping away from the past and into something, or rather, someone else.

Jeremy.

Had he ever spent Valentine’s Day alone? Or was he out right now, charming some girl, making her feel like the center of the universe with that lazy smile of his?

The thought sent a sharp twist through Blaire’s stomach, the ache settling deep in her chest. It was pathetic, really, how effortlessly he consumed her thoughts, how she yearned for something that was never hers to claim. She tried to fight it, to push him from her mind, but it was useless. It was always him. It had only ever been him.

So she did the only thing she could think of to feel close to him. She opened her laptop and created an anonymous Spotify account.

For hours, she combed through songs, each one a quiet confession, a whisper of everything she couldn’t say. You’re In My Dreams. Yearning. One Day. How I Feel. Each playlist became a love letter, a secret she could only speak in melodies.

She lingered the longest on one playlist in particular.

I Can’t Have You.

She filled it with aching, heart-wrenching songs - ones that felt like crying into a pillow at midnight, like staring at someone from across the room and knowing they’d never be yours. Waiting Room. Lover, You Should’ve Come Over. Every lyric was a piece of her, every note a quiet prayer that, somehow, he might hear the music the way she did.

Then, finally, she bought the card.

It was simple but cute, the paper red with a little mixtape on the front, the words You make my heart sing scrawled across it. Inside, she spilled her soul.

Jeremy,

From the moment I first saw you… those curls, those deep brown eyes, that sly, knowing smile with the tiny dimple in your right cheek… I felt something shift inside me. A quiet symphony began to play, a melody only I could hear, one that grows louder every time you’re near.

You are close enough to touch, yet impossibly out of reach. Still, I ache for you in a way I can’t quiet, in a way that lingers in the silence of the night, in the spaces between stolen glances and fleeting moments.

So I will stay here, yearning in the shadows, loving you from afar. If the universe is kind, maybe one day, my dreams won’t just be dreams.

Yours, always,  Your secret admirer

She hesitated only for a moment before scribbling the link to the playlist at the bottom. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she slipped out of her dorm, the cold air biting at her skin as she hurried across campus.

Jeremy’s dormitory was quiet when she reached his door. She let out a slow breath, staring at the envelope in her hands. Then, with a racing heart and trembling fingers, she slid it under the door.

As she walked back through the empty halls, a strange warmth bloomed in her chest. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t know it was from her. It didn’t matter that tonight was spent alone, that she wouldn’t wake up to flowers or chocolates or whispered “I love you’s.”

For the first time in a long time, Blaire had put her heart into the world; and somehow, despite the solitude, this was her favorite Valentine’s Day of all.

[shahvv]

Falling in love♡

I've always thought being able to fall in love and get to be with the one you love is lucky. Why ? Because not everyone gets to be with someone they love. Not everyone gets their feelings returned and not everyone can fall in love.

I've been there. I've sat down in the middle of the night, where the rest of the world is sleeping quietly. I sat down and stared blankly at the wall wondering why I couldn't fall in love with anyone. Why do I envy my friends relationships.

Then the thought drifted away from why "I couldn't fall in love" to "why doesn't anyone fall in love with me" .

Hundreds, thousands, heck, millions people alive in this huge world, yet no one, not even one person, has ever liked me.

The thought drifted away to my insecurities. Am I that ugly outside? Is it my chubby cheeks? Am I unattractive? Is it because i wasn't skinny? Is it because of my tan skin? Is it because of my lack of social interaction? Is it because I looked unapproachable? Or

Is it because i'm not worthy enough to be loved by someone?

I've now fallen in love with someone. It has been almost a year already. Everywhere I go, even in crowded places, my gaze always falls on him, always noticing where he sits, with whom, and what is he doing. I've always watched him.

The first time I realized I'd fallen for him, I tried to push away my own feelings. I told myself it wasn't love. How could it be? We never talked with each other. I barely know him.

Yet the more I tried to push it away, the more bigger it got. The more stronger it feels. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it makes me happy, sometimes I cry.

I don't know.

After awhile of rejecting and hiding my own feelings, some of my friends found out this stupid crush that I tried my best to throw away.

They encouraged me to be honest with my feeling; they supported me in being with him. They encourage me to make the first move.

Yet I couldn't. Yes, sometimes I do look at you during classes. When the teacher was telling stories in front, I watched you silently as you struggled to finish the sudoku books at the back of the classroom in front of the back window.

My sketchbooks, which were used to be filled with my fictional crushes and my OCs, are now full with you. I drew you. Every chance I had, I grabbed my pencil.

Before I even realized it, your faces were everywhere in my drawing, to the point that I couldn't show my sketchbooks to anyone, afraid they would notice it was you in my drawing.

I like you. No, I love you. Three words that would never slip out of my mouth.

How much do you think I like you?

I've made a special playlist of the song that reminded me of you, I wrote about you in one of my essays about the love of my life. My friends are growing tired listening to me talk about you all the times—all the drawings I've made just for you, all the words of encouragement I whisper every time you do something.

When I heard you had a girlfriend, how sweet you treat her, I couldn't help but grinning at the thought of your sweet gesture. Even if it is not for me.

I heard you wrote a letter to her; I heard you gave your full attention to her; I heard how much you love her.

And it broke my heart when I heard you broke up with her.

Watching your Tiktok repost, your Instagram highlights, watching you ramble about how much you miss her.

I hold my breath.

All my friends told me this was my chance to confess to you. But I refused.

I knew you would never love me the same way I love you.

Or maybe I was afraid— I was afraid to be hurt. Maybe I was dumb. No, I am dumb.

Even so, I'll continue to watch you from afar. Continue to admire you from where I am standing now. Supporting you from the back.

My love, my dream guy, the one that pulled every string inside my heart effortlessly without you ever realizing.

If it's fate, Im sure we will meet again one day.

When that day comes, I'll make sure to introduce myself properly. I'll make sure we have a proper conversation.

And maybe, I would have the courage to tell you that

I love you.

But for now, I'll let it slip from my hands. As i watched, you faded into the crowd, leaving me and my feelings behind.

After all, not everyone is lucky enough to have someone they love love them back. And Im part of that unlucky group, I guess.

[ponderingrandomthings]

This is such an amazing, peaceful, Celtic piece - Oceanus (the first song in the album - if the post shows song #2, please go back to song #1). I find the drums quite noteworthy...

I will listen to the remaining album someday (starting now...)

Album Write up (from Bandcamp):

The Celtic navigator's great journey inspires this recording featuring material reworked and remixed from "Navigatio" combined with brand new material. Introduction by Stephen Lawhead – The great saints of the early Celtic church - Patrick, Columba, Samson, Aidan, And Brendan - were great travelers as well. In an age when most men rarely journeyed more than a few miles from hearth and home, they roamed the world ' often with little more than the cloaks on their backs, and the sandals on their feet. For the Celtic saints, each outward journey was also a journey inward. They wandered as pilgrims for the good of their souls, and each new discovery was seen as a discovery of the hidden territory of their own inner hearts. But, as much as they liked to travel, they loved returning even more. It was been said the Celts often left home just so they could enjoy the home-coming. Indeed, a man like St. Brendan would have relished one of the Celtic world's rare and special pleasures; to see one's homeland again, and know if for the first time. Much has been written about "The Voyage of St. Brendan (Navigatio Sancti Abbatis)". The story of the intrepid Navigator's fantastic voyage with a handful of monks to the Land of Promise is one of the great tales in the Celtic literary cannon. Like we often do with stories about people from the past, I initially viewed Brendan from afar. Much like one viewing a passing ship from the shoreline with a pair of binoculars, I saw Brendan but I did not know him. But here, in this music, I have attempted to sit with him inside his boat upon the great open sea – Oceanus. While drifting along the world's edge, the Brendan that I met wrestles with many of the same things with which I struggle. His eyes seek and long for something good, beautiful and true yet seldom does he get more than a glimpse of these. His mind dreams and hopes but his heart more often fears and despairs. He often finds himself alone - not because he does not have friends - but because he pursues the path of faith which ultimately one must follow on their own. He wonders if he has enough faith to continue down the path which he follows ... He does not. Yet, always he prays and the King of Love's good grace sustains him. This is what makes Brendan a true saint and, for me, is the inspiration for this music. – Jeff Johnson

--

Album Artists:

Jeff Johnson: Keys & voice

Janet Chvatal: Voice

Brian Dunning: Flute & whistles

Tim Ellis: Electric & acoustic guitars

Gregg Williams: Drums

Phil Baker: Bass

Roger Hadley: Percussion

Adele O'Dwyer: Cello

John Lehmkuhl: Drum loops

Jami Sieber: Electric cello

--

Just in case, here is the Spotify playlist for the Inspirational Moments Volume 1, 2, 3: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0KY8LFwNz3xW1bpprU1NH0 (that's where I first heard this, and other, songs)

YouTube Playlist (for Inspirational Moments Vol 3): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRVvLrB1aWvjU8gLXRA06gFxI0MsDA29D

[lunarmoonmoth]

Suffocation at its finest

My pulse feels weak as you pull away from me with ease

I gaze at once was admiring what it has that i don't

Constantly craving the touch and validation in which will never be received

Late night texts spiking my anxiety of what could be a terrible fate

Old feelings linger back into this broken heart of mine

It feels as though you don't care

Wishing for happiness to embody me whole so i can finally feel at one with myself

Not constant hatred for what looks back at me

I'm not him but at times i very much wish i was

I feel as though your seemingly bothered by me

I just wanna feel whole again

Unlike i've ever felt before because then i can feel eternal happiness

My brains scattered and broken into millions of pieces and i search allover to find whats missing

Nothing ever fills that void

Nothing ever will

Or at least i think nothing ever will

This shattered heart aches and aches for something in return for what is taken

You don't feel like i do

Do you

Do you feel saddened in a sense when i'm not around

Or does it not affect you

Shutting out the noise in my head by drowning in a field of dead flowers

Constantly hearing the happiness around you tends to slowly tear apart your mind

Brain constantly scattered and drifted

Can't tell if i feel anything really

I feel numb to any feeling

I feel the tears as they run down my face but i am in shock of their origin

Why must they shed

I feel nothing until this sudden burst of sadness reaches its hand out to me

Pure pressured i take its hand let it lead me afar because that is all i've known

All i will know truly

Suffocating and drowning in this void at times

Feeling swallowed whole against my will

Sucked into a void of melancholy music and fucking up my life because thats nostalgic for me

Offer me some help and i'll turn it down because its my problem so i must rescue myself

Not before the others

Never before them

As they matter more than anything

I'll still be here

Maybe not as full but its more important that i'm still here

I don't bother

I don't want to be a bother

Nobody wants someone who complains or vents when shit gets tough because god is that annoying

We all have problems so get over it

Choose an outlet

Or a place all your hidden secrets lay

Where no one can judge

No one can hurt you

Act fine until they cant see the reality

Punch, hit, yell

Anything to stop the noise of it all

That suffocating and honestly annoying sound that follows you everywhere

Playlist after playlist

Only 10 ish songs cause no way i could do anything more than that

Raising my mother at times wishing she would return the favor

Getting let down again and again without fail

Trusting you

I should trust you

That would be a mistake

You'll run if you learn of what's inside the notebook i keep hidden away

Away from harm

I wish someone knowing i loved them would be enough at times

It never is though

What was i really expecting

Truly

Could i be more of an idiot to think that would ever be enough

That id ever be enough

I told them

I told them to keep you safe

And selfishly to keep you here with me

I love you too much to leave you to rot like i am

You deserve better than that

It's scary

The thought of having to bury you

I should've said something sooner

And i hate how no one else cared that you were suffering in this big black hole

But me.

I needed you

Selfishly

I know

Why'd you tell me you love me

Unexpectedly

No reasoning

Just those three words

[withahappyrefrain]

I cannot be the only one who gets tons of ideas for fanfic when listening to songs!! Example: sad reminiscent post disaster breakup fic from drift away omnichord by Mars Bars, wistful happiness or crushing from afar from Dreams By the Pied Pipers, The first time ever making out inspired by Jamie’s Crying (Van Halen). LIKE!! It’s so easy to get a vibe for it

It is! My favorite is making a playlist for fics! It just sets the mood and is so much fun

[seoracle]

DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame. 

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real. 

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back. 

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it  was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist. 

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that. 

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face. 

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.” 

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy. 

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.” 

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!”  You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain. 

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager). 

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind. 

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea.  “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo. 

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu. 

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed. 

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face. 

“Y/N?” 

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever. 

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.” 

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?” 

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect. 

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat. 

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long. 

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her. 

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.” 

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.” 

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.” 

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop. 

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

[intheseautumnhands]

i may have tripped and fell into looking at old tags/writing stuff with my ex while trying to clear out some email stuff which, to be fair, i was already a little weird today from odd dreams so it didn’t add that much on, it’s just... very there again.

is it progress to be angry instead of heartbroken? is it backsliding? is it unfair? i honestly don’t know.

i am angry about a lot of things. one of those things is how many stories i will now have to seal up. i am angry that there is yet another box on that shelf, next to the stories i shared with [ex-siblingthing] and have never quite been able to shake, next to the stories i shared with people who i let drift out of my life because my brain was too messed up to take the steps to keep them around. i didn’t want to add more to that pile. i still regret too many of the stories that have been on that pile for almost thirteen years. i only had four years to build them then. i didn’t need 11 years worth of stories there.

i am angry about the songs i do not put on playlists anymore and the movies i am hesitant to watch again.

i am angry that it should feel like progress that we haven’t spoken in months, but instead i keep finding myself worrying about if they’re okay. i am angry that there is yet another person on that list, that i have to worry from afar about while being painfully bitter about the fact that i doubt they care if i am.

i am angry about how many fucking things got reset to step one and how much it retroactively feels like all that energy i poured into trying to help them was only ever reciprocated accidentally, like i was the only one who cared.

i don’t want to be angry. i don’t want to care anymore. it’s been fifteen months and i want to stop feeling like i’m being gutted by it on a regular basis. but it’s been some awkward amount of years with other people who meant the most to me when it ended and i still feel that way. and i don’t look forward to the idea of still feeling angry and abandoned three years or so down the line. i don’t want to be that fucking person. and maybe if it hadn’t reset me so hard i wouldn’t be. but i think i am. and i hate them for it and more than that i hate myself for being that way because maybe that’s why they left and why they should have left a lot sooner.

it’s not fucking right that it hasn’t gone away yet. i want it to go away.

[inlovewiththeteachertc]

Saw another crushing student do this challenge, thought I’d give it a go

December TC Challenge

1) what color is your tc’s hair?

Graying dark brown, so salt and pepper I guess. Not too short, not too long. 

2) is your tc married?

No he’s not. I’m pretty sure he’s single. 

3) if yes, do you care? would you do something with them regardless of their marriage?

It would make the situation feel hopeless. I wouldn’t want to be a homewrecker, so no.

4) what’s your worst memory with your tc?

He asked me if we ever discussed religion at home and I said no. I said I was an atheist and that we therefore didn’t talk about it. He said that he’s also an atheist but started talking about the importance to discuss it (he said he did it with his kids). He kept going on about it. I got to see how intense he can be, quite intimidating tbh. 

5) what’s your best memory with your tc?

One time when he was looking at one of my assignments and tested me to see if I thought I had written correctly and I said “I thought so”. I wanted to show myself confident to him. He seemed to really like that and responded with “you thought so?” and smiled. We looked into each others eyes intensely like you do before a kiss (there were other students there though so it didn’t happen). 

6) does anyone in your school know how you feel?

He was my teacher 2.5 years ago. A classmate asked me last year how I thought he was as a teacher. Many in my class disliked him since he was so outspoken and honest (I loved it though lol). The classmate looked at me in an odd way like he could tell I had felt some kind of way about him. I just said “yeah he was alright” not to be too obvious. 

7) does your tc know how you feel?

That’s tricky. He always said I was so friendly. But then again the way I looked at him, blushing etc... Idk. And that moment (question 5). He also seemed disappointed once when I sat next to him and moved my chair a bit further away from his. (Read more about that on my page). Idk if it could sink in to him that such a young woman would be interested in him. Hmmmm....

8) do you think there’s any chance your tc reciprocates your feelings?

Maybe. He seemed to enjoy talking to me and often wanted to know my opinion on things. He seemed to smile a lot around me and spoke kind of softly to me if that makes sense. No clue though. He was very charismatic in general. 

9) are you getting your tc a christmas present? if so, what is it?

No. It would’ve been weird if I did after a few years and before I’ve told him how I feel. 

10) have you ever flirted with your tc?

Yep, in a subtle way. He’s intelligent though, I’m sure he could read signs. 

11) how long have you had a crush on them? what began it all?

It began after two weeks of classes with him (didn’t stop). He was just so charming, funny and charismatic... 

12) do you believe you’ll get over them shortly after you stop taking their class/have the chance to spend time with them?

Lol, 2.5-3 years later and he’s still on my mind. He was unforgettable. 

13) what kind of grades do you get in their class?

Mostly A’s, sometimes B. Worked hard to impress him. English has always been my favorite subject before he was my teacher too. 

14) does your tc ever do any tiny, little things that you adore?

I loved his laugh and smile. The way he joked/teased playfully to see my reaction. The way he stood up for my grades when discussing with other teachers (more about it on my page). His sparkling eyes. How he spoke passionately of things he cared for. 

15) are you their favorite student?

One of his two favorites.

16) do you two share any tastes? movies, books, music, etc.

Some tv-shows. Enjoying movies that make you cry. The lack of popular social media usage lol. Dogs (we own the same breed even). Atheism. Both absolute idiots when it comes to cooking haha.  

17) is your teacher religious?

No.

18) do you masturbate to them?

Let’s not go there xD

19) do you communicate with them outside of school?

Sadly, not yet. Will contact him this year though.

20) do you have any tc songs or songs you relate to your tc? what are they?

An entire playlist. Lots of Ed Sheeran, sleeping at last, Billy Raffoul etc. Both sad and happy love songs. 

21) what’s your favorite thing your tc has said/memory you have with them?

See question 5. 

22) do you plan to continue a relationship with them after you leave school?

I’m planning on contacting him this year. Will ask him out hopefully. I’m nervous.

23) how will you deal during the summer? will you see him/her?

The summer after he wasn’t my teacher anymore felt sad and empty. 

24) does your tc support gay rights?

I couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t. He’s not extremely traditional. 

25) what class do you have with them? And what period? Do you have them every day?

English. Last lesson on Mondays and last on Fridays, so twice a week. It was lovely to end my school week with his class. It made me happy when going home for the weekend. And knowing I got too see him in a couple of days again.

26) have you ever drifted out during a lecture thinking about them and missed information?

Yeah, I daydreamed a lot about him. I stayed focused for my grade though. 

27) have you stalked them online? what did you find out?

Yes... His age, where he lives, who he lives with, ex girlfriend. Zodiac, birthday. 

28) have you ever run into them outside of schools? what happened?

I saw him once from afar in a parking lot but he didn’t see me.

29) has your tc ever spoken of teacher-student relationships? what did they say?

No. 

30) do you regret telling anyone about your tc? if you’ve kept it a secret, why have you done so?

I’ve told my mom. She doesn’t know just how much I adore him. I don’t regret telling her, but I have to be careful not to say too much. She’s protective. She thinks he’s max 40 years old. Lol he’s not but sure mom.

[peach-pops]

heyo 🗿 may i request a matchup pls 🤲 i’m a straight female, i’m 5’6” and i have freakishly long limbs. like, it’s awkward how long my legs are. i have hip-length white hair and i have tons of freckles literally everywhere. i’m a figure skater and a dancer (🕺😼) and i’m constantly listening to music. i’m pretty reserved but i also carry that chaotic energy 🧍thank u!💗

 i’m either attracted to one type or another. it’s either a guy who’s super outgoing and enthusiastic with an impeccable 👌😼 meme taste, or a shy, quiet guy. i definitely like guys with the same music taste. i’m really into indie rock, or alt. rock music. i’m not really a fan of rap but occasionally if my emotions get the best of me i have my angry rap playlist i’ll put on repeat. as for pet peeves, i cannot deal with someone who has two faces. i need someone who’s truthful || i prefer people to be who they truly are and don’t feel the need to mask their true selves. i’ve had too many people in my past who have lied about their true intentions with me and it makes me extremely angry and honestly kind of lost. also if he watches anime or reads manga i’m set for life 🙈 i hope this is enough information for you!! thank you so much!!

thanks for sending in a matchup! I really hope you like it and I gave you a lil bit of each type if you catch my drift (lowkey really proud of the bnha one) Matchups are open and the rules are in my bio! 

I ship you with Nishinoya! 

The first time he actually saw you was when he went over to Tanaka’s house and the very first channel on the tv was your televised dance competition. 

He was BREATHLESS watching you with your technique and he found his heart stop at the end when you smiled at the camera cause “ohmygodshesmiledatme!!!”

Now imagine how he felt when Tanaka noticed and told him that you were in his math class! Noya begged Tanaka to introduce him to you and right from the start, you two hit it off and started to date

If it’s meme taste you want, it’s meme taste you’ll get. A good morning text is always really cute but with Noya, he’ll always send some chaotic meme that he found in the depths of the internet. His reasoning is that he wants you to laugh before you even get out of bed so you’ll have a good start to your day

Will always show you off to his teammates and will call you ridiculous/cringey nicknames that are based off inside jokes like bambi, ice queen, and Freckles ( that one is obvious but you get it)

Noya is the type to shout on rooftops about how lucky he is to be with someone as pretty and talented as you are. It never gets old although sometimes, you find it embarrassing. If you ever wanted him to stop, he would but would be really confused as to why he can’t show the world how proud he is of you 

I ship you with Tamaki!

I’m going to say your quirk first cause it’s important on how you two met! Your quirk is: Cryokinetic surfing which means the bottom of your feet can release ice that helps aid in movement (basically like permanent ice skates) 

One day as Tamaki was walking out of the dorm to class with Nejire and Mirio, you had woken up late because you slept through your alarm. You got ready as fast as you could and you used your quirk to quickly skate to class. Just as Tamaki was about to open the building doors, you accidentally ran into him and omg poor Tamaki he was MORTIFIED!

He was really embarrassed cause Tamaki had a huge crush on you and he thought it was his fault but you had to reassure him that you were okay and asked if you needed to take him to the nurse. He said over and over that he was fine but Mirio INSISTED that you should take him to Recovery Girl cause wink wonk he’s the best wing man

Very slowly but eventually, the two of you started dating and while he would never admit it out loud, Tamaki was really grateful you ran into him that day cause he couldn’t stand watching and pining for you from afar any longer

Tamaki’s music taste is more like lofi and chill coffee beats but he started listening to more alt and indie music so you two could relate and talk about it more! He even made you a playlist of all the songs that reminded him of you and his face was so red when you told him how sweet he was

One of the big things you like/respect about Tamaki is that he never feels the need to mask his true self. Yes, he’s shy and sometimes gets insecure but you are comfortable in your thoughts knowing he would never lie to you or try to be someone he’s not 

He has his own ways of being supportive and loving you; he won’t shout from the rooftops that he loves you like Noya, but he expresses his love through small gestures and quality time. As long as you both look out for each other and work to try to understand each other, things will go smoothly

[miraclejune]

HERO’S SOUP: Chapter 8

Coffee

“I thought you had class until 5pm, Seungs?” Hyunjin latches on his seatbelt, pulling on it a little to see if it was secure. He stares at Seungmin seated beside Woojin through the rearview mirror. But waited in vain when his question was not answered.

Hyunjin huffed out air, throwing a fit. He got more pissed off when Seungmin answered when Woojin asked him. “You asshole.”

“Thanks, Jinnie, you dickhead.”

“Why I!” Hyunjin crossed his arms and puffed his cheeks. He looked out the window mumbling incoherent words underneath his breath. The car was filled with soft chuckles. “Your class got canceled huh?” Seungmin shrugged at Woojin’s words, opting to reach out for the AUX Cord. Vague answer, again. “You can just use bluetooth.” Seungmin nodded, connecting his phone to the car’s speakers.

“Whose shop are we gonna go to?”

“Not the antique shop, sorry.” Jeongin glowed red in embarrassment from Woojin’s words. Seungmin gave the boy a careful appraising eye through the mirror.

The lack of acquaintances affected Jeongin's behavior while growing up, not in a negative way though. And being in a relationship was part of the question. He liked multiple people before, but gazing from afar was the only option he had. He didn’t even have enough courage to say hi to his classmates, what more if it was a confession?

“We’re going to my café!” Woojin enthusiastically answered.

“You have a café?!” Jeongin gasped. He looked at Hyunjin who scooted over to his side.

Hyunjin rested his head on his shoulder, at the same time letting his arms snake around the boy’s waist, filling in the space between them. Jeongin could feel the vibrations from Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke softly. “Yeah, their cheesecake is amazing. Jisung's always chattering about how good it is.” his mouth watered. Jeongin loves sweets.

“Jeongin, you’re drooling.”

He almost slapped himself as he tried to wipe off his saliva. But before he could react, Seungmin let out a howl of laughter.

Hyunjin can’t help but giggle as he watches the boy beside him, writhe in embarrassment. “And yes, I do have a café .” Hyunjin detached himself from Jeongin, looking out the window as cars drove past them. “We really need to know each other more.”

“No thanks, I don’t like opening up to idiots.”

“HEY!” Seungmin was joking, of course. But that didn’t stop Hyunjin from acting like a kid. Pouting and stomping his feet on the car floor. "But, that doesn’t sound so bad.” Seungmin's voice trailed off vaguely. He focused his eyes on the road, obviously ignoring the searing stares from the others.

Seungmin held his breath in silence. He went from hot to cold, the 2 pairs of eyes bearing holes on his skin, and the other one stealing constant glances. He flushed crimson as he adjusted his seat and cleared his throat.

“Woojin,”

The alpha hummed, glancing at the witch’s face before his eyes fell on his fidgeting fingers. Seungmin heaved a deep sigh, it was weird. He never felt nervous around anyone, however, after hearing about Woojin's past… his heart asserted itself again, thunderously beating against his chest. “About the barrier…”

Woojin mused a little while in grave thought. His smile was linked with a sigh. “We’ll go over everything later, Seungmin. Don’t worry.” Seungmin murmured a vague acceptance. He wanted to brood over the matter immediately. But an air of uncanny familiarity hung over.

Noticing the sudden shift of mood, Hyunjin croaked “I thought you’re gonna drop some beats, Seungmin.” Even though the witch snickered, he can’t help but thank Hyunjin for saving his ass out there.

“Yes, boss.” The muffled sounds of an electric guitar resonated within the car.

As they ventured further down the road, the chorus of the song neared. Someone was definitely whispering, no. He was singing.

A soft-sounding voice softly muttered the lyrics, getting every melody right. His voice was far from different from the singer, but it definitely had its own color. Woojin gingerly pressed on the brakes, the car came to a halt as the red light shines above them. “You sing, Jeongin?” the boy flinched, hastily covering his mouth, exchanging glances with Hyunjin, and Seungmin and Woojin, who were looking over their shoulders.

“No need to be shy about it.”

“Yeah, Woojin is right! You sound amazing!”

“He’s a music major for a reason, you nitwit.”

Hyunjin ignored Seungmin's snarky comment and looked at Jeongin eagerly as if he was waiting for the boy to continue singing. The boy warily put his hand down, he gulped loudly.

Woojin turns back to the wheel, tapping his fingers against it. “Don’t pressure the kid, Jinnie.” Seungmin had to admit he also paused for a while to see if Jeongin would continue singing. He turned back to the front, the song ended and he waited for the next one to play.

“Sorry, Jeongin.” the boy floundered.

“It’s okay, Hyunjin! Well,”

“I can sing one song if you guys want.” the wolf beside him beamed. “Hey, giggles. Your tail’s wagging so hard.” the wolf glared at Seungmin's shoulder. But immediately turned his attention back to Jeongin. “We’re not forcing you to do so, okay?” the boy could hear the sincerity behind Woojin's voice even though he was facing the road. He smiled.

“I want to do it.”

Seungmin stopped his thumb from scrolling through his playlist. Woojin saw how the witch bit his lips, trying to hold back a smile.

Seungmin caught Woojin glancing at him, he cleared his throat “So what song would you like, Jeongin?” As the boy fell into thought, Seungmin couldn't help but finally let a smile form, a frown coming up later when Woojin nudged his elbow, wiggling his thick brows.

Finally making up his mind, Jeongin mumbled the title.

Soon enough, the melody started. It was awkward at first, he didn’t dare to raise the volume of his voice. But with Hyunjin's encouragement, Jeongin took a deep breath. Letting his voice be heard within the confinements of the car.

-

By the time they arrived at the café, Hyunjin was fast asleep on Jeongin's lap. The wolf had been nodding his head out of drowsiness. Seungmin waited for him to bang his head on the car window, but Jeongin prevented it from happening. Pulling the wolf towards him, before the incident happened.

“Hyunjin, wake up.”

Woojin chuckled, pulling into a parking space in front of his café.

“Jeongin, that idiot would not wake up with just that.”

He turned the engine off, removing his seatbelt as he slid his upper body through the seat gap. Jeongin and Seungmin waited for his actions.

They both expected him to tap Hyunjin's face with just enough strength to wake him up. But they were caught off guard when Woojin leaned in more, reaching out his hand to Hyunjin's… left ear?

“OW OW OW OW!!!!” Seungmin let out a howl of laughter, wiping a few tears from the corner of his eye. Jeongin, who was biting down his lower lip, trying his best to stifle his laughter, felt a bit sorry for the wolf.

He patted the wolf’s head, cooing at him like a kid. “Woojin, you jerk.” the alpha laughed, whispering a soft sorry as he kissed the wolf’s forehead. They emptied the car, Woojin made sure the doors were all locked before leading the rest inside the café.

Unlike Woojin's awful taste in interior design. His shop was not half bad. It was aesthetically pleasing, to be honest.

The tiny café huddled among the huge city buildings. It had a simple vintage exterior, not so overly decorated so it was very warm and welcoming, especially this winter weather.

Just like the outside, the interior was warm and cheery, with bright lights and vintage photographs placed around the walls of the café. Delectable pastries are tidily placed on the transparent glass cabinet, lining up and waiting to be eaten. The strong bitter aroma of ground coffee beans drifted in the air, the scent almost soaking into your clothes.

The usual gentle murmur of voices could be heard above the harsh occasional stomach-churning sound of the coffee machine.

An ‘eye-catching’ barista waved in their direction. Woojin walked past the three of them, a warm smile evident on his face as he headed towards the counter.

A guy with ghost-white skin circled the counter, giving Woojin a brief hug. His soft brown locks tousled a little as he rested his chin on Woojin's shoulder. After pulling away, his soft voice can be heard and the little dimple that played at the corners of his mouth appeared when Woojin teased him, he was… breathtaking.

His mellow eyes glanced over to their position and again the dimples made an appearance.

Woojin noticed, turning his head and signaling the three of them to approach him. “Jaehyun! Long time no see.” Hyunjin babbled, circling his arms around the older man.

“It’s been a while, Hyunjin.” Jaehyun replied, creeping his arms on the wolf’s back.

Drawing back from the embrace, he curiously looked at Seungmin and Jeongin. Woojin pulled the two on each of his sides. “This is Seungmin.” the witch nodded, eyes falling briefly on the guy’s outstretched hand.

His eyes went back up to the guy’s face, a small smile forming on his lips as he reached out to shake it. “So, you’re a hand shaker. Interesting.” Seungmin was caught a bit off guard when Jaehyun chuckled, honestly speaking, he expected the guy to give him a weird look of disdain. But instead, the guy laughed, running his hand through his hair.

“I’m really a hugger but, I think it would be weird to hug someone you just met. Ruins the idea of a great first impression.”

Woojin held off a chuckle. It looks like someone has met his match.

“And this adorable little guy is Jeongin.” Jeongin shut his eyes, craning his neck a little bit as Woojin’s large, heavy hand ruffled his hair. He let out a whine and pouted, fixing up his tousled hair.

A faintly quizzical look came into Jaehyun’s eyes, scanning the boy up and down. Jeongin looked up as Woojin nudged his side, reminding the boy about what Jaehyun said. “It means a hug, Jeongin.” not quite getting the point, Jeongin stepped forward nuzzling his head onto Jaehyun's chest. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The guy stiffened a bit as he felt warm hands snake around his back. Jaehyun couldn’t help but blush, wrapping his arms around the boy’s structure.

“Jeongin! Let’s sit there!” Jaehyun watched as Hyunjin pulled the boy away from his grasp, leading him and Seungmin towards the back end of the café.

He can’t help but find the situation a bit irksome. Woojin threw a measuring eye at Jaehyun, who seemed to be utterly detached from life. “Jaehyun.”

“Huh, what?” Woojin smiled, another victim of Jeongin's irresistible cuteness. “Can you give us,” Woojin paused, waiting for Hyunjin's voice inside his head as he asked Seungmin and Jeongin what they wanted.

“One hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream. 2 americanos, a café latte, and 2 cheesecakes.” Jaehyun nodded his head, quite impressed. How did he know about what the others wanted?

It wasn’t really his business so he went back to the counter. “Johnny. Order up.” A tall chiseled man with medium brown hair, a very prominent cupid’s bow, and soft eyes appeared from the kitchen area. “Woojin, wassup man!” he ignored Jaehyun, making his way towards Woojin. “Hey, Johnny.” bro-fist was more of a Johnny style. Considering he grew up in the US.

“Johnny, the orders!” the man frowned, glaring at Jaehyun before turning his eyes back to Woojin. “Catch ya later.”

Woojin proceeded to their seats. Pulling a chair beside Jeongin who was fiddling with his phone. The corners of Woojin's lips rose as he, not intentionally, read the contents of the screen.

‘Chan, where are you?’

‘I’ll be a bit late, Jeongin.’

‘Okay~’

The alpha shakes his head. His eyes danced around the café. Everything is familiar to him, well, even the distant stares coming from the female customers. He thought to himself again, maybe it was not such a good idea to bring the boys here. Jaehyun and Johnny bring enough clout to the shop. Hiring handsome full-timers was a really really bad idea.

Hyunjin stood up from his seat, excusing himself as he headed towards the restroom. The number one gullible person. He doesn’t know his effect on the people around him. Which kinda makes him more attractive, more or less.

Sometimes they have trouble walking around the city with that wolf. He gets scouted so much on the streets, Changbin starts grumbling about how they spend 90% of their time shaking off the scouts. Woojin leans back in his chair, fishing out his phone from his pocket.

After sending a brief text to Changbin, he placed it down on the table. A few seconds later, the screen lit up. Woojin leaned forward, reading the preview of the message.

“Changbin's with Jisung and Felix. They’ll be here in 20 minutes.” The sound of plates being placed on the table made Woojin look up to the server. His bright pink hair screams ‘KPOP Idol’.

He was overwhelmingly handsome, he looked like he came straight out of a comic book. His face was a cheat. Was he new?

“Hey, boss! This is our new guy, Taeyong, Jungwoo's boyfriend.” Taeyong bowed his head, his big doe eyes nervously danced around the room, trying hard not to make eye contact with the owner.

Johnny didn’t have to tell the boss about his relationship. “I’ll work hard, sir!” Johnny cackled, patting him on the shoulder as he turned to walk back to the kitchen.

Woojin gave him a warm smile, telling him to just drop the formalities and call him by his name. Taeyong fervently nodded, bowing his head before heading back to the counter.

The alpha eyed the new guy as he carried a few drinks towards a group of what seemed to be high school girls. All of them giggling and trying their best to make the guy stay a bit longer.

Woojin drew his attention back to his friends when Hyunjin came back. “What took you so long?” Seungmin questioned.

“Had to take selfies! My outfit looks great!”

Seungmin sneered, making Hyunjin hit his shoulder lightly.

Jeongin observed in silence, occasionally glancing at his phone to see if Chan had messaged him. Much to his dismay, Chan was probably busy. His eyes fluttered back up when Seungmin threw Hyunjin a question, “How did you become a model?” Hyunjin fell into thought, running a hand through his hair as he delved into his memories.

“I think, when I posted my OOTD on Instagram. A local shop sent me a DM, asking if I could model for them.” Hyunjin reached out for his phone, typing down the name of the shop, scrolling through their recent photos until he found his first ever photoshoot.

“I grew bored of hanging out here at the cafe and coming with Changbin and Jisung to their workplace only consisted of me playing with my phone at the sofa of their studio, while they buried their faces onto the screen and paper. And, well, I wouldn’t say much about Chan. He’s an old guy. I usually just sleep in his room. So, I guess modeling was a nice opportunity. I asked Woojin first, and he told me to give it a shot.” he continued, handing his phone to Seungmin.

Jeongin craned his neck over to their side. Seungmin handed him the phone, giving Hyunjin a smug look. “You looked a bit awkward.” Hyunjin chuckled. “Yeah, it was my first time. The photographer was very understanding, the staff were also nice. They fed me and even gave me more than the price we agreed on.” a soft smile formed on his lips as he recalled his memories.

“I promised them that they could call me up any time if they needed a model. I left them my number and email.” Jeongin held his breath in admiring silence, returning Hyunjin's phone to him.

“So, yeah. They posted the photos on their page. Printed posters of me and glued them to the glass walls of their shop. Soon enough, I received a lot of emails and calls. They said they wanted to collaborate with me. They wanted me to model for them. Most of them found me through that shop’s page. They messaged the owner and asked for my information. Kinda felt a bit mad because they released my contacts without notifying me, but I let it slide. Since they were a huge help to my impending modeling career.”

Hyunjin's story ended with him shoving half the cheesecake down his throat. Seungmin reached out for his bag, rummaging for his wallet. “How much do we owe you? I’ll pay for Jeongin’s too.”

“Seungmin, I can pay for my own food.”

“Stop, both of you. No need to pay. It’s my treat. Now, eat!” The owner of the cafe said.

Seungmin was disappointed he backed down easily. Jeongin too. They nodded in silence, picking up their forks.

Jeongin's face lit up, he turned to Woojin with a mouthful of cake. “This is amazing!” the owner smiled, relieved that everyone liked the food and drinks.

“Are you ever behind the counter?” Seungmin asked, sipping on his drink. Woojin hummed in response, looking out the window for answers. “Hhe ushed touew.”

“Don’t bark with your mouth full, you stupid dog.” Hyunjin choked, glaring at Seungmin while Woojin stood up to get some water. “Seungmin, play nice.” Jeongin whispered. He knows the witch was just kidding and Hyunjin probably doesn’t give a damn. But still, it was offensive to say such stuff.

Woojin sat back down, sliding the cup of water to Hyunjin. Seungmin looked at Jeongin dead in the eye, bringing up his fist. Jeongin sighed in defeat when Hyunjin, almost consciously, bumped his fist on Seungmin's.

He didn’t expect those two to become close, they’re always bickering and hitting each other.

“So you used to?”

“You understood that?” Seungmin snorted. Giving Jeongin a thumbs up. “I’m fluent in idiot.” Hyunjin laughed, clearly forgetting the fact that Seungmin called him an idiot. Their high five echoed across the café, earning the attention of a few customers, a few tables away from them.

Hyunjin covered his mouth with his hands, wide-eyed. Woojin stood up and bowed in the direction of the customers. Hyunjin composed himself and walked towards their table. Bowing his head multiple times as he gives them an embarrassed smile. The girls swooned over the fine man in front of them. “He really has no idea?”

Woojin shook his head, eyes glancing at Hyunjin. “None at all.” Jeongin knew they were talking about how clueless Hyunjin is about his effect on women and sometimes men.

“What an idiot.” Woojin and Jeongin chuckled.

“Can’t argue with that.”

After a half an hour, Changbin, Jisung, and Felix arrive. All three of them looked like death. Jisung's heavy footsteps led him to Jeongin’s side. He pulled the chair and almost instantly fell into the younger’s lap.

“I’m so fucking drained.” his voice turned into a hum as Jeongin ran a soothing hand through his hair. Jisung fought the urge to sleep, enjoying the feeling for a bit longer before Felix kicked his chair to the side, replacing it with his own. “I want head scratches too.”

They argued loudly, earning a warning growl from Woojin. In the end, Jeongin sat in between them, their heads on each of his shoulders, as both his hands scratched their heads. Seungmin scowled at the scene.

“What a bunch of dogs.”

“Hey!

“Fact check: I’m a fox, mate.” Felix pouted.

Woojin called up Taeyong, asking the newly arrived people to tell him what they wanted. He mumbled a soft thanks to Taeyong before turning his head at Changbin. “What took you so long?”

Changbin groaned as he leaned back in his seat, hands massaging his temples, being reminded by the hell they went through earlier was draining him more. “Ugh. After shopping with Chan, he dropped me and Felix off at the studio. Jisung was already there when we went in. We had to come up with melodies from scratch for a mini-album,” glaring at Jisung, he continued. “Jisung said they need it by next week. But when Felix checked in with their representative, they said 3 weeks.”

Bolting upright, Jisung whined.

“I said I was sorry!” Changbin groaned, nodding his head. He had no choice. What’s done is done. “I almost lost my remaining 3 brain cells for coming up with lyrics.” Felix nuzzled further onto Jeongin's shoulder, his breath tickling the boy’s neck. The confused look on Jeongin’s face came unnoticed.

Album? Melodies? Who are these people?

“You have a studio? Felix writes? You guys are producers? What?” Jeongin threw around a measuring eye. Gaze lingering slightly at Hyunjin before settling on Changbin.

His head whipped back to Woojin on his right when the man spoke, “We’ll tell everything later. Okay?” All he could do was nod, still baffled by the facts he had discovered in a span of a day.

“Chan's here.” the wolves stated in unison. And as in cue, the bell chimed. “We can smell him. Although Chan rarely smells. He has a slight scent when he comes from the antique shop.” Jeongin's question was answered even before it was asked.

All their heads whipped towards the direction of the entrance, it was definitely Chan followed by Minho.

After confirming it was them, Seungmin's eyes fell on Jeongin. The boy’s face was beaming more than ever. Seungmin smiled. “Hey, Woojin.''

The rest of them didn’t notice Changbin moving to Woojin's side. He pulled out a file folder from his backpack, placing it into the table before sliding it to Woojin.

Changbin pulled his seat closer to him, flipping through the folder before speaking. “Can you sing this one verse for me, I can’t figure out the melody that well.” Felix and Jisung stood behind the two, peering over the paper.

“This one?” Changbin nodded, mumbling a short ‘thanks’ to Jisung who lent him the laptop.

As the four of them were busy in their own world. Chan and Minho settled down. The vampire slyly taking the ‘empty’ seat beside Jeongin, they both smiled at each other.

“What’s the delay?” Hyunjin asked with a mouthful of his 3rd slice of cheesecake. Chan glared slightly at Minho before leaning back on his chair. “After dropping off Changbin and Lix at their studio. Minho called, his voice was so panicky, I worried and rushed to him.” Minho stood up, saying he wanted to check out the pastries and drinks. But clearly, he was just trying to avoid being scolded by Chan.

“He dragged me to his busking gig. I was annoyed at first but I let it slide since the shop’s closed for a week,” Jeongin yelped, eyes wide as he looked at Chan. “The shop’s closed?” he couldn’t hide the hint of sadness in his voice. Chan's lip hardened, looking away from the boy’s pouty face.

He took a deep breath, swallowing the lump on his throat.

“Y-yeah, but just for a week.” Chan smiled. He forced himself to look at the boy’s eyes, failing miserably, his eyes settled on the boy’s forehead. “Anyway, I thought it would only be quick like his former busking sessions. But that dumbass took forever.” Hyunjin chuckled, sipping on his drinks as he eyes Jeongin.

Jeongin's attention was caught by the 4 people on his side, he was immersed by Chan's rant but Woojin's voice startled him.

Wide-eyed, mouth agape, he gazed at Woojin. Effortlessly belting the bridge part of the song. Changbin nods his head, muttering multiple ‘OK’ as he writes down notes.

Felix, on the other hand, tilted his head, grabbing a piece of paper from the table. He wasn’t quite satisfied with how the wording sounds. He walked towards Chan's side,

“Hey, mate. Can you run over this part? It sounds awkward.” Chan nodded, gently grabbing the paper from Felix. He focused on reading the lyrics, a bit bothered by the amount of staring the boy beside him was doing. He cleared his throat and beckoned Felix to pull a chair beside him, and he did.

“Jeongin.” the boy’s eyes found the owner of the voice. “Sit beside me.” Seungmin pulled out the seat from his right. He quietly stood up from his current seat. Plopping down beside Seungmin. As soon as Seungmin's hand fell on his left thigh, he felt relaxed, giving the witch a small smile as thanks.

Mostly everyone had their own business. Minho and Hyunjin were pigging out on Seungmin's left side. And the rest were busy helping Changbin with music production. As soon as they finished, all attention was focused on the alpha.

The number of customers dwindled over time, but there were still a few once it hit 10pm.

Ah, right. They were at the center of Seoul. People barely sleep. Most shops are open 24 hours. Woojin's café used to be like that. But as more and more people visit them, his employees had a hard time adjusting to the hectic schedule.

So he decided to be open from 10AM until 3AM, and just to be fair, he hired more part-timers, so that the full-timers can have the night shift off.

Chan peered cautiously over the group of college students 2 tables away from them.

“They’re definitely gonna hear us.”

Seungmin and Jeongin giggled, garnering 7 pairs of eyes. “What?” Chan asked, a bit irritated.

“College students don’t give a damn” Jeongin nodded, crossing his arms as a cheeky smile grew on his face.

The confused 7 pairs of eyes went back and forth from Seungmin to Jeongin, before Minho yelled a loud “WHAT DO YOU MEAN”. Covering his mouth, the rest of them carefully looked back at the student, stunned by their lack of care with those

around them. They weren’t fully rowdy, the boys talked quietly with each other as they buried their faces on thick textbooks, and the girls were busy typing down on their laptops. “That’s what I mean.”

“But for safety precautions,” Seungmin snapped his fingers, Jeongin felt a gust of cold wind for a second. “I put up a spell. Every time someone talks, the words they say are different on the outside.”

After Hyunjin and Felix had their fun with the ‘spell’. Woojin started the meeting. “Okay, first of all, our jobs.” Jeongin listened attentively, Seungmin almost laughed when the boy pulled out his phone, launching the notes app, getting ready to jot down the details.

“I have had this café for 10 years now. The pack used to work here before too.” Woojin pointed at Hyunjin. “And you’re knowledgeable about Hyunjin's modeling career.”

Jeongin nodded, still quite shocked by Hyunjin's career. But well, it did suit the good looking man.

Woojin took a sip of his coffee before nodding at Minho, “When I moved here, it wasn’t that crowded yet. But a few years ago, Felix and I moved in together. And we saw someone dancing in the streets of Hongdae. We had nothing else to do, so we gave it a try. And well, it was fun! We weren’t in it for the money at all. It was quite amazing to perform in front of other people.”

“Do you guys get scouted a lot?” Jeongin questioned, fully aware of how the entertainment industry works in South Korea.

Minho and Felix looked at each other before snorting. “Yeah, but not much.” Chan on the other hand snickered. “Not much? Dude, every time I go to one of your busking sessions, scouts swarm you guys with their numbers. Some even had contracts on hand. And that’s ‘least’? Get the fuck out of here.” Felix hid his reddening face with his hands, while Minho, who was known to be a bit egotistical, chuckled quite proudly. “But yeah, after moving in with the wolves. It’s kinda hard to go back and forth. Still, I will try.”

“Jisung and Changbin are music producers slash composers. They work with big and small companies. Felix, who just joined them after moving into the mansion, now works as a composer also. Their studio is near here.” Woojin said, smiling softly as he patted Changbin's head.

The wolf whined, lightly slapping away Woojin's heavy hand.

After fixing his hair, Changbin turned to Jeongin, giving him an encouraging smile, “You can drop by anytime.” Jisung eagerly nodded his head, agreeing with Changbin.

Jeongin gave them an open mouth smile, adorably clapping his excited hands. “Oh yeah! Jeongin's a great singer too!” the boy ordered Hyunjin to stop while trying to hide his embarrassed face.

He looked up at Seungmin, clearly asking for help. But was betrayed when the witch fueled the fire. “Giggles is correct. Jeongin's amazing.”

“Cool! You definitely should drop by!”

Jisung blurted enthusiastically. “Yeah. You can sing demos for us.” Changbin added. All Jeongin could do was nod his head and pray to the lords for them to move on with the topic.

Thankfully, Woojin saved him.

“And you know well that Chan owns a shop. And Seungmin's your senior in university.'' After the brief, they let him take everything in. Opening up some small talk as Jeongin got comfortable.

“Alright, about the barrier at Jeongin’s house and University,” Chan's face grew serious. Giving his full attention to the alpha.

“Hyunjin and I felt it as soon as we entered the compound. But, we both thought it was a precautionary measure made by Seungmin, and we were wrong.”

Seungmin shifted from his seat before he spoke. “I didn’t put any spell around the campus. You do know, beings like us live amongst humans without their knowledge.” the rest of them nodded, while Jeongin was a bit taken aback by the information. ‘So it wasn’t just them?’

“I did not want to be discovered because they might,” Carefully choosing his words, he paused for a second. Of course, it did not go unnoticed by a very observant vampire. “It might fuel their desire to seek who put the spell.” His eyes momentarily flickered from Woojin to Chan. The only people who knew about him.

“So I was shocked when Woojin and Giggles asked me about the barrier.” Hyunjin frowned and glared at Seungmin, he still was not pleased by the pet name.

“I really don’t know how you guys discovered it, so please tell me you were just messing around.”

Woojin sighed nodding at Hyunjin who was waiting for his approval to speak. “It was not subtle at all.'' The witch whipped his head in Hyunjin's direction, his face evident of confusion.

“Even a newborn wolf can sense it. The rest of you can sense it.” Hyunjin pointed at everyone using his fork, eyes going back to meet Seungmin's furious ones. “So you’re saying I’m weak?”

“I’m saying the one who did it made sure to make it non-existent solely for you.” and it hit him. Seungmin's eyes flickered downwards. Embarrassed by his own outburst, his eyes focused on the floor, only to be taken away by Jeongin who touched his thigh.

Dark sparkly orbs stared right through him, soft words followed by a soft smile calmed him down. “Life becomes easier when you learn to give the apology you never got.''

The boy’s words were spoken in a hushed tone, which was pretty useless because everyone heard it.

Seungmin heaved a sigh. “Sorry, giggles.” Although the pet name was present, Hyunjin could sense the sincerity even behind the smug look Seungmin was giving him.

“And my hunch is that professor.” Jeongin flinched, remembering the terrifying scenario earlier. Seungmin could feel the boy tense on his side, he gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Professor?” Jisung asked. “Jeongin's professor.”

Woojin turns to Seungmin, “You can find her information right?” the witch nodded, giving Jeongin a fleeting smile before retrieving his hand.

He cracked his knuckles, and with a snap of his fingers. A thick, vintage book appeared. Floating in front of him. “Hang on,” the book flipped through the pages itself. “W-wait, they might… see?” Felix’s voice trailed off as he looked around the café. It was only them. “I had Jaehyun close the shop early today. It’s 1AM.”

“Barrier was gone like an hour ago, Lix. You dumdum.”

“Shut up, Changbin.”

Before they could engage in a fight. Woojin ordered them to stop.

“I do know who she is.” Seungmin blurted, eyes still scanning through the flipping pages. “I know everyone in school. She’s Jenny Yoo. The Music Department’s head. She’s very famous amongst her students.” Jeongin, who wanted to contribute, fumbled for his phone. Handing it to the rest to show her picture.

“Wow, she’s hot.” Jisung leered, earning a hard smack on the back of his head from Changbin.

“What? She is!”

Ignoring the wolf's last remarks, Seungmin continued, “She’s only been teaching there for 7 years, but she’s already the head.” With the help of Jeongin, he told them the basic biography of the professor.

The floating book rested on the table with a loud thud. “Found it.'' Once again, his hair turned ghost white, eyes were the shade of violet. “Huh, it looks like that’s the only info she has. Everything we just told you. Somehow, it felt like some of the information was removed. It's all blurry and… burned.” The book closed but remained still on the table.

“You actually told us a lot.” Felix stated. And for the first time, Chan spoke. “So you’re implying that it was Jenny Yoo who created that barrier? With what evidence?” Seungmin and Woojin's eyes met. Unlike the alpha, Seungmin could not hide his wariness. Woojin spoke on behalf of Jeongin. Going through the scene that happened earlier.

“She what?” Jisung's voice was laced with anger. The atmosphere suddenly became suffocating. Jeongin fidgeted on his seat. Feeling sorry for the mess he made. Felix, who was ready to kill, spoke, his voice even getting deeper. “Where is she?”

Woojin tried to calm them down, “Now now. It’s okay now, she didn’t hurt Jeongin. Right, sweetie?” the boy nodded. “I’m okay! It was a bit scary but Seungmin, Woojin, and Hyunjin were there.” a sigh of relief escaped their lungs. “She’s our prime suspect then.”

“She’s our only suspect.” Minho corrected Hyunjin.

“She knows Seungmin’s a witch. So she might be a witch.”

“Figure that out yourself, genius?” Hyunjin glared at Minho. “She might also be the one who put up the barriers at Jeongin's place. Seungmin, are you sure you don’t know her from your past or anything?” Seungmin frowned, shaking his head to answer Felix’s question. They argued for a while, coming up with possibilities of Seungmin being connected to Jenny Yoo.

Woojin then turned to Jeongin.

“Jeongin, did she visit your house?”

Jeongin smiled sadly, gaze lowering as Chan's question hung in the air. He sighed, looking up to them with somber eyes.

“I never had anyone over at my place.” a great pain shot through their hearts. They felt sorry for the boy. The room went still, Seungmin placed a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder, making him look up. The boy was welcomed by smiling faces, “Then we definitely should come over.'' Everyone agreed on Changbin's suggestion. Already planning what they would bring as gifts.

“Ah man, I want to taste your mom’s cooking!”

“You only think about food, Sung.”

“That’s bold to say, coming from you Hyunjin.”

Wide-eyed, Hyunjin retaliated. “What does that even mean?! And why are you laughing? WHY?” In the end, the café was filled with laughter and teasing.

“You guys are a bunch of meanies! I’m gonna get more cake!” the rest roared louder as Hyunjin stomped away towards the counter, not aware of what he just said. “We better apologize before he eats the whole pantry.” one by one they all stood up, heading towards the counter. Jeongin lingered a little, eyes solely focused on his friends.

Their hands naturally clinging to each other, smiles never fading on their lips. Even Seungmin was bright and happy, he had never seen him like that before. The school would probably be like headless chickens running around the field if they saw him in that state.

Slowly, his hand creeps up to his chest. It was beating so fast, in a non-scared way. The thought of having friends was a big thing for him when he was young, but after years and years of trying to make some, he lost the will to do so.

His imagination couldn’t fuel the desire anymore. So, he just let everything go. Seeing his classmates all happy with their own circle didn’t make sense to him anymore, it was like having friends wasn’t such a big deal. That it was far more disappointing and boring than it looks.

Jeongin was suddenly aware of his emotions, tears stained his vision. Lowering his gaze so that no one would see, he hurriedly wiped them, but they just won’t stop escaping his eyes.

He was so happy.

Fuck no, he was ecstatic.

He’s feeling so much at the moment, he can’t think straight. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He doesn’t want to let go of them. Letting out all his pent up sadness, Jeongin sobbed, loud enough for everyone to hear. 8 pairs of feet stood in front of him. Jeongin lifted his head up.

His sobs grew louder as he was pulled into a big, warm hug.

“It’s okay. We’re here now.” with just those words, he let loose of everything. Nuzzling his face to whoever’s chest it was.

“Idiot Hyunjin, why are you crying?”

“You’re crying too, Felix.”

“W-what? That’s not me. Jisung is the one who’s ugly sobbing.”

“Hey! I got something in my eye okay?”

“Mi… Minho is definitely not crying.”

“Please stop referring to yourself in 3rd person.”

“Changbin, are you crying?”

“Shut up, Woojin! You’re tearing up too, even Seungmin's crying---oh wait, he’s not.”

As they broke up, bickering. Chan's hand found Jeongin’s. Looking up to the owner of the hand, he flushed when his eyes found him. They exchanged silent smiles, already knowing each other’s words.

“Let’s take a polaroid!”

You could say it was fate. But there are too many idiots in their group to fully agree with that.

“Minho, you're stepping on my foot!"

If only he could hold on to this moment for a non-existent forever.

“Okay! Everyone ready? Say ‘dumbass’ in 1, 2, 3…” Jeongin smiled, forever does exist when you believe. And he does… he really does.

“DUMBASS!"

[angrykpoprants]

Have you listened to the leaked song? I’m gonna be real hones... I’m so disappointed. They have completely changed their sound and looks like they won’t be drifting away from their edm obsession (which isn’t popular like it used to be). Way too much Halsey on it, even without her the song can’t hold its own. I kept telling myself that next song will be good (I’ve said this since Not Today) and it’s disappointing. I feel like the bangtan I loved is leaving me.

No I haven’t, really only since Halsey is on it and it’s just that I don’t really care for her, but that’s just my personal opinion. My last favorite album of theirs was YNWA however, I do like serendipity and kind of like DNA. I’m not a really big fan of EDM, for me it has to be done correctly in order it to sound good. Like Dope for example that was the first time they experimented with EDM, and it got everyone hyped then they started to experiment some more and add edm elements to their sound pre 2016 and that was good too. GDxYB’s good boy and even dirty vibe I like, because it’s done in what I feel is the right way.

It’s funny that you sent me this because just the other day when I cleaning I just turned my playlist on shuffle and Spinebreaker started playing and I started to think of their new stuff. There is a big dramatic difference in their sound. Now, thats not necessarily a bad thing because that happens all the time for any artist, and everyone has their own taste in music.

To me it seems like they aren’t putting all that work into their music anymore. Even just looking at the song credits, their not as involved as they used to be to me. Almost like they’re kind of just becoming institutionalized, what I mean by that it’s like their new songs are just “here today, gone tomorrow” or very teenybopper-esque, because they are overly trying to make music that will get good and fast public approval then just not caring and focusing on what the fans like. 

I like bts from afar right now, that’s because I’m tired of biased media and the fandom. That’s honestly why I have two social media accounts, one that includes BTS and the other one doesn’t, I will say that when I took a break from kpop gossip/news sites and only used my non-bts social media I really was far out of the loop for bts, I didn’t see any thing about them which is why I’m so adamant that kpop and bts are still not as mainstream as people say.

As for you love for bts diminishing, you’d be surprised… this one blog that I follow people started talking about not really liking bts anymore and leaving the fandom. Now, i’m not going to lie, I went through that with Bigbang which is (and was) my ult group and GD who is (and was) my ult bias for a moment around OOAK era but my love came back. I also went through the same thing with B.A.P for about a year in 2013, and the people who follow me know how much I love B.A.P. If you need a bangtan break that’s perfectly fine. 

There is also the possibility of never being their fan again and that’s also fine, people change… I’m for sure not even the same person I was 4 years ago, that’s when the majority of my taste in music started to change too. I’ve stepped away from groups that I used to be all over, Super Junior, SHINee, U-Kiss, and Nuest. I don’t hate them, I still listen to their old stuff now and then, and from time to time i’ll get curious and check up on them. There also groups that I will listen to and i’m not even a fan, just some songs I like. There are also groups/idols that I didn’t like initially but found myself liking later on. If it makes you feel anything less that happy, you can step away from what you feel is negativity.

I hope this help you, If not you can send another inbox or message me.

[mermaeids]

NARCISSUS: Chapter Three

Summary: Clarke is trying her best to avoid talking to Bellamy. Bellamy is trying his best to get Clarke to talk to him. Meanwhile, Octavia uses whatever means she deems necessary to keep Wonkru from joining Eligius. Chaos and angst ensue.

Post-5x05. Basically, my version of 5x06 and on. The title comes from my post about Ovid’s Echo and Narcissus myth, in which Bellamy and Clarke are totally Narcissus.

Tagging some people who wanted to be tagged! @ringsabellamy@ravenslunas@thebellarkegame @wildsedreams @blarke @j-murphy@atlasbellamy @lieutenantshaw

And special thanks to Gigi @faeriefully for beta’ing this fic!! She’s amazing and you all should follow her.

Here is a playlist for this fic (songs that inspired me, songs that I listened to while writing).

READ ON AO3 (read chapter one here)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: the group arrives in Shallow Valley but the dangerous part is far from over.

His voice was broken even to his own ears.

“Clarke,” he repeated, reaching through the dark.

“I’m here,” she was saying, “I’m here. I’m gonna take you home. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here.”

I’m sorry, he wanted to tell her—though he couldn’t quite recall why—but his tongue was heavy. Everything was heavy. His body, his eyelids, his pain. His blood was cement, his head impossible to lift when he tried to see her face. He was a disgraced Atlas buckling under the weight of the sky.

Both of her hands cupped his face. “Shhh. I’ve got you. Don’t try to move.” She eased him back down to the earth.

Her touch slowed his wild pulse, pacified his mounting panic.

Then she was shouting for Monty to hurry up. There was a canteen against his bottom lip, and she was begging him to drink. Stay with me, Bellamy. Just a few sips, Bellamy.

Her voice called to him from the surface, but he was sinking in the deep.

Stay with me. Stay with me.

Stay with…

*

“Clarke, you have to treat him!”

“Tell that to the storm, Monty! Now help me get him and Harper in the rover.”

“But Clarke—”

“I know! I can’t fix him and drive us home at the same time. I’ll talk you through disinfecting the wound, but first we need to get in the rover!”

Fever, shakes, delirium. Clarke knew the signs of infection.

Lightning, wind, descending darkness. The storm was coming.

Monty carried Harper while Clarke and Echo lifted Bellamy by his arms and legs. His head lolled to the side in a way that made Clarke’s stomach contract with worry.

“Careful,” she muttered half to herself and half to Echo as they laid him down in the bed of the rover. Clarke opened the medkit, handing Echo the disinfectant and bandages. She touched Bellamy’s forehead one last time, allowing herself a precious moment to pretend that he was just sleeping, that he was okay and he was hers, before climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

They were off. All Clarke could focus on was the ground under the rover’s tires, the storm raging to the north, the uneven hitches in Bellamy’s breathing.

“Clarke, what do I do?” asked Echo.

“Clean it the best you can,” Clarke yelled over the roar of the wind and engine. “Cover the wound with gauze, then wrap it up as tight as you can. I’ll stitch it up as soon as we get to Shallow Valley. I can make a tea at home to help his infection.”

“Infection?” Echo repeated in alarm.

“Yes,” Clarke said shortly. “Monty!” she called. “Try to wake Harper up and get her to eat something. I brought some dried fruit. That should be bland enough.”

She saw Monty rouse Harper in the rearview mirror.

She drove through the night. It didn’t take long for everyone in the back to drift off, leaving her alone with the sounds of their steady breaths, accompanied by Bellamy’s labored gasping. She occasionally reached back and pressed a hand to his sweat-soaked cheek. “Soon,” she’d whisper. “We’ll be home soon. Hold on.”

About two hours later, when the sandstorm was just a distant memory fading into the rising sun, the chills set in. She could hear his teeth chattering. He started to jerk back and forth in his disturbed sleep, muttering senselessly and panting harder than before.

She had to stop the rover. It was impossible to keep focused like this, with him hurting in the backseat. His pain awakened a hollow ache within her, accompanied by a rising agitation. Only helping him would ease her.

She pressed on the breaks, coming to a stop between two dunes, and climbed into the back.

“What happened?” Monty mumbled, sitting up.

“The storm is gone,” Clarke explained hurriedly. “I need to help Bellamy.”

She reached over Echo’s stirring form to grab the medkit, accidentally stepping on the other girl’s hair.

“It’s too crowded in here,” Monty decided. “Everybody out!”

That roused Echo and Harper, who both followed Monty when he opened the back doors and sat on the sand outside. Clarke gave him a grateful look.

Echo stayed by the opening, studying Bellamy from afar. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I can help him, Echo, but you have to give me time.”

That seemed to be enough for Echo, who retreated from the rover as told.

Finally having the space she needed, Clarke started addressing the first problem: chills. She gathered all the blankets she had and spread them over his body, making sure they covered him up to his chin, rubbing them down until they were snug. His shaking decreased just enough for her to address the next order of business: the wound.

She moved blankets aside to reveal his torso and winced. There was blood leaking through the bandage Echo had secured earlier. He must have reopened the wound in his fitful sleep.

Fuck. She would have to stitch him up here. No anesthetic.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

[j3nh0e]

JJK - Quarterback

Genre: Smut/ tiny bit of fluff

Words: 1120

Author: Zoë

Summary:  Jungkook is an american footballer. Y/N has to cheer him up after a bad game (guys I’m so bad at writing descriptions I’m sorry, promise the actual fic is better). I put the video together, just to make it more vivid, but I used these:

Shower Audio - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7VOR4r5cgI

Background Audio - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-Oz1BrKSWE

Image: https://goo.gl/images/RQh9vn

Tags:  Y/N x Jungkook

Y/N watched from the stands as Jungkook hit the ground with his fist after yet another missed pass. Crouching down one of his team mates patted him on the back, the tension he was holding in his jaw was starting to ache. ‘Why was he playing so badly?’ He thought to himself rising to his feet to the sound of another whistle.

Y/N could feel his disappointment from the side-lines and frustration bubbled through her at her helpless state. She wanted to console and refocus him, but she was stuck watching from afar. The final whistle blew and saw Kook throw his helmet to the ground, rubbing his hands over his face and crouching down.

There was a huge hustle as crowds slowly made their way out of the stands and slowly dispersed into the night. Y/N said goodbye to her friends and made her way towards the foyer where she knew Jungkook would come out after showering. She saw some of his teammates pass, having a brief conversation with a few of them. Y/N smiled as she saw Yoongi, Jungkook’s best friend, walking out of the locker-room, his kit bag swung over his shoulder.

‘Where’s Kook?’

‘Didn’t see him in the showers, I think he stayed on the field. He’s not in a good mood.’

Y/N thanked him and walked back round to see Jungkook sat on the field, crouched over, his head hanging down. Passing through the glass double doors she made her way over to her slouched boyfriend.

‘Hey.’ She said quietly, taking up the spot next to him. He didn’t move from his position. They sat there for a while in silence, Y/N knew she couldn’t say anything in that moment to dissolve his anguish. Finally, he lifted his head to look out over the playing field, she could see slight streaks down his face as residing marks of his frustration. Y/N reached out her hand and stroked his shoulder slowly, the boy finally raising his eyes to her own. His hair was stuck to his forehead, a sheen of sweat covering his face and neck. His breathing was heavy, and he had pulled up his thermal shirt to reveal his muscular forearms. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how he glowed in the floodlights.

‘Come on babe, let’s go get you showered.’ She said kissing him lightly on his cheek. His mouth upturned slightly at the corner, but he wasn’t letting go of his grievance just yet. Once in the locker room Jungkook started to remove his kit whilst Y/N turned on the shower, running it to the right temperature. She knew she’d have to go the extra mile to get Jungkook to let go of the tension in his body and to stop blaming himself for what happened today. She pulled her phone out of her bag and put on a playlist they’d created together. As Bryson Tiller started singing, she slipped under the water. Jungkook lifted his head, hearing the song start to play, and saw his girlfriend. Water dripping slowly down her curves, her hands scraping her hair back off of her face. She had her back turned and he couldn’t help but stare and think how lucky he was. She slowly turned to look over her shoulder and silently beckoned the gawking boy to join her.

He tore off the last of his clothes and stepped into the shower slowly, clearly still harbouring guilt and disappointment. Y/N squirted some muscle relaxing shower gel into her palms and began working on his shoulders. Jungkook let his head fall back steadily as relief washed over him. She used her thumbs to put pressure down his shoulder blades, and occasionally kissed over his back. As she got to work rubbing her fingers up and down the nape of his neck, he turned around to face he. The love and gratitude consuming him, made evident in his face.

Grabbing the back of her neck Jungkook caught Y/N’s lips in his as water rained over the pair of them. Pushing her against the wall he deepened the kiss, sliding his hand down to feel her breast. He moved his lips to work on her neck and his fingers drifted further south. Before he could make contact with her most sensitive area, his hand was caught by hers.

‘Baby, I’m looking after you tonight’ Y/N whispered pressing slow kisses from his jaw down to his collarbone. She lifted her fingers and lightly ran her nails along his waist and v-line. Jungkook’s head fell to the left to allow her more access, his mouth was slightly agape as breathless moans passed his lips.

Gracefully, Y/N lowered herself until she was on her knees. Her hand wrapped around Jungkook where he needed her most. He couldn’t help but moan out loud as she slowly took the tip into her mouth whilst holding eye contact. Her lips were so swollen and wet from his hot kisses, but they looked even better surrounding his length. He rested both his muscular arms on the wall, hands searching for anything to hold on to as he gradually lost control. His head hung between his shoulders as he studied every movement of her lips, completely consumed in the pleasure of her hand working the base.

Aware that Jungkook was approaching his high Y/N took him as far as she could, speeding up the movements of her hand. Jungkook’s moans were bouncing off the tiled shower block and reverberating around the room. They became more frequent and high-pitched as he got closer to release, his hips jerking and his legs occasionally shaking as he gripped her hair in one hand, the other still supporting him against the wall.

‘Baby, I’m going to cum’ Jungkook warned and Y/N reacted, tilting her back as he painted her chest, groaning through his high. Regaining his breath, he looked down at his beautiful girlfriend, her body covered in water droplets and his pleasure. He stroked the side of her face, admiring how perfect she looked in the dim purple glow of the locker room.

They both cleaned up and dried off in the locker room, Y/N borrowing some of Jungkook’s sweats.  He sat down to tie up his shoes and when he had finished Y/N placed herself in his lap, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. They shared a gentle kiss as Y/N gently stroked the fluffy hair at the nape of his neck. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as they slowly unlinked their lips, admiring his girlfriend in his oversized clothing and messy topknot of hair.

His worries about the game had completely dissipated, he was totally, completely and utterly consumed by one thing. His love for Y/N.

Please let me know what you think !!

Masterlist

[carlylexwheeler-blog]

The Chaser I Seek

Summary: Muggle-born Anne Wheeler is thrilled when she receives her Head Girl badge in the mail the summer before her final year at Hogwarts, and so is Pureblooded Phillip Carlyle when he discovers he is to be Head Boy. Neither Phillip or Anne knows much about the other, except for what they have learned from afar. Phillip has been watching from the Slytherin side of the stands for years as Anne leads the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team to victory after victory. Anne, on the other hand, has listened to the whispers about the Carlyle family and their obsession with Pureblood lineage, and she knows along with the rest of the school that the Carlyles are instrumental in Voldemort's slowly gaining success.

Neither is prepared to be jarringly thrown together their very first day by a food-fight blown out of proportion.

As both students struggle to balance new responsibilities, they will begin to see new sides to one another-- sides that Phillip has been taught never to look for, and sides that Anne is not ready to explore. But with the wizarding world taking new steps every day towards war, Hogwarts must cling to unity stronger than ever... Especially the two students who are the face of it all.

Word Count: 3,036

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Basically It’s Gonna Go How You Expect It To Go

Chapter: 6 of ?

Read it on Wattpad or AO3.

Playlist

Song of the Chapter: "Whole Lot of Heart" by Tegan and Sara

Chapter Six: The Patronus Charm

Phillip and Wheeler spent most of the rest of the afternoon moving around the Common Room together, silent as they could be around one another. It was not uncomfortable, but it was slightly charged... Just enough to keep Phillip from retreating completely into his own mind. Both had a massive amount of work to do, and if they did manage to finish all of their homework and Head duties, there were Quidditch plays to attend to. As they sat at their desks, Phillip thought about how much he had to attend to. It should have been easy to focus.

But it wasn't, and it was the fault of the Ravenclaw who was currently sitting at the desk across from him with a mug of her disgustingly strong tea and a smudge of ink on her nose.

Everyone knew that Anne Wheeler was an exceptional player, and there countless passes that she had made that were incredible. Many people had seemed to think that these passes were too difficult to even be possible, and with good reason. Many involved her rolling her broom completely upside down to catch a pass, while she held on with only her legs. Phillip had never before understood how she could do such things, but he did now, and it mesmerized him. He had never seen anyone fly like that with a broom... It was as if Anne Wheeler had taken something that had been done one way for as long as it existed and made it her own.

His mind replayed what he had seen. Every movement was fluid and graceful, and she kept each inch of her body under control. He remembered the way that, even when she was holding on with her feet dangling in the air, they were perfectly pointed and held in graceful stance. His mind replayed her descent towards him, where she seemed to walk down invisible steps as she closed the distance between them like some sort of angel. Her soaked curls, which had framed her face like a halo, only added to the illusion of Wheeler as some sort of seraph. As he tried to focus on Herbology, his mind instead returned to the Quidditch Pitch.

When it returned to the pair of them, rolling in the sand until he was above her, inches from full lips, he stopped it suddenly.

He did not know what he was thinking. He had only just gotten out of hot water with Wheeler, and they were still working through tension following the Quidditch Pitch. During the day, he spent time with his group of elites, listening to their gossip and rants and steering the conversation away from Wheeler whenever possible. Yes, they were partners now, but she had made it clear that there wasn't anything more.

Did he want there to be?

Wheeler went to bed before him, leaving Phillip alone to struggle through Potions. They were studying Amorentia, which meant that they soon would be making an attempt at creating the devilishly tricky potion, so he needed to understand it. When he finished that, he pulled out his wand in order to practice for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

They were supposed to be practicing the Patronus charm, something that was rumored to be able to earn them a massive amount of points on the exam if it was corporeal. Phillip had succeeded in producing his before, the year previous when it was mentioned that it would be necessary to know the spell for their exams. It had worked for him then, but he had not attempted the spell for several months now, and he knew it took extreme effort. He did not want to look like a complete novice in class, not when it was the Seventh Year and it was more important to be prepared than ever before.

Not when the things they were studying were becoming more and more necessary for survival.

Dementors were almost completely out of the control of the Ministry of Magic now, at the Dark Lord's prerogative. They prowled the streets of England and were slowly becoming less concentrated, drifting into Wales and beginning to float across the seas, stopping only to seize a wayward seaman's soul. This kept the Aurors occupied while the Dark Lord focused on what he wanted to. It was much harder to stop that attacks on Muggles when the entire force of wizard fighters was struggling to contain the creatures of darkness and devastation.

Phillip was safe, he tried to remind himself sometimes. But he wasn't really, because after this countless members of his class who had been the main instigators behind the attacks on Muggles would be joining the side of the Dark Lord. And he would be expected to join them.

Phillip swallowed hard as he clutched the handle of his wand in his palm, ignoring the thought.

Instead, he pointed the wand in front of him and murmured, "Expecto Patronum." A spurt of silvery mist left his wand, but it went no more than an inch from the tip. When the mist settled around his hand it provided a cooling sensation that faded quickly, along with any of the light. Phillip furrowed his brow and raised his hand, saying it with more determination this time. "Expecto Patronum!" He fed the spell his happiest memory steadily, as though he were feeding kindling to a fire. The memory involved his first night at Hogwarts, having the hat set onto his head and the whole room burst into cheers. He had been so terrified that it would send him anywhere else, that he would be in the same position that young Edison had without any way of explaining to his parents what had happened. The relief had been the most powerful thing that he had felt to that point in his life, and maybe since.

Silver left his wand again, forming a cloud of mist that would surely provide a slight layer of protection from a dementor so that someone else could take it down. But there was no hint of anything within the mist, not the form of any shape that would be capable of driving the creature off on its own. Phillip let out a groan of frustration through gritted teeth, and the cloud dissipated quickly.

"You're too calculated." Phillip stiffened, and when he turned, he found Wheeler standing on the stairs that led to their dormitory. She was wrapped in the blanket from her bed, which was a deep blue over what appeared to be a men's t-shirt and old flannel pajama pants. Wheeler's curly hair was pulled up into a ponytail, but it was a mess from sleep and little portions stuck out all over the place. Her eyes were sharp, but lines of sleep surrounded them, and her lips appeared slightly dry the way anyone's were when they woke up. She looked amazing.

What would she look like in one of his shirts, he found himself wondering?

Phillip shook his head quickly. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. "I've done it before, and I did it just like this."

"I remember, I was in your DADA class," she retorted, waking over to the kettle. She put water on, and he watched her move throughout the kitchen to fetch the tea he knew she liked for bed. Sometimes, when he woke, he knew she'd woken up in the night because the jar of lavender and chamomile tea was still out on the counter, because she had forgotten to put it away. He was keeping a mental note of the amount in the jar, and he had a bag of the stuff in his room shoved under the bed. When he was sure she would not catch him, he added a few inches more.

"I know you were, so you saw me," he countered. "I can produce a corporeal Patronus, and this is exactly how I did it."

"So can I, and maybe it worked for you before, but something's changed. Your corporeal was never animated enough anyway, it was stunted by your memory."

"My Patronus is not stunted!" he huffed.

"It's alright, Carlyle, men all over England struggle to put out," she said in a sarcastic voice that mimicked the smooth tones of a Healer. He shot her a look, and she looked satisfied with herself. "It never moved very far from you, and if it's going to chase off a dementor, it has to. It was never as bright as it could have been, either."

"Says who?'

"Fine, you want the blunt version?"

"I wasn't aware that you were capable of giving anything but the blunt version."

His quip produced a sleepy smile from Wheeler, but a smile nonetheless. He wished he could bottle it up, the smile that he had put on her lips. Still, when she spoke, it was with the same grit she always had. "It was never near as bright as mine."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand..." he said slowly. "I've never seen you produce a Patronus, much less a corporeal one."

She shrugged. "Better just to do it for the examiners, have a trick to keep up my sleeve," she replied. "But the point is, your approach to the spell is wrong. It will give you the bare minimum results, but if you want to succeed past that, you have to change it."

"I don't get what you mean," he confessed. "I've been doing everything the way we were taught-"

"I'm not talking about something that can be taught," she said seriously. He stared blankly at her, and Wheeler let out a soft sigh. She fished her wand out of the massive pocket in the flannel pants, and his eyes widened. Was that why she clearly wore guys' pajamas, so she could have her wand on her while she slept? But then, Phillip remembered finding her curled up on the chair, her face streaming with tears and twisted in pain as she let out silent screams. Maybe it made sense.

Wheeler lifted the gleaming handle of her wand, which he noticed was carved in a manner that appeared to be by hand. If he looked very closely, he could see vines of roses curving up the wand's handle with leaves, thorns, and all. She levitated a piece of paper off of his desk, and the Seventh Year school supplies list drifted over to her. "Watch," she instructed. She moved the paper so that it was over the fire, and then, with a murmured spell, it began to shred itself at a rhythmic pace above the fire. The flames leaped a little to claim the paper, but past that, there was no drastic change.

"You aren't using a strong enough spell, which is why you're faltering. Because when you try to give it steady, calculated amounts of your happiness, it isn't going to work. You create a little bit and it falls flat."

"But if I give too much, won't I just exhaust myself?" he said slowly. He understood where she was going with the visual, but there were still points he needed to process.

"That's the point," she hummed. "Dementors... What do they do, Phillip?" Her tone was not derisive as she asked him a question they both knew he could answer.

"They feed on happiness," he said slowly. "They take it all, everything, and then leave a shell."

"Exactly," Wheeler said, and her voice sounded almost proud. "Which is why you have to give it to them without leaving a shell. Everything... An explosion of it, given freely. Because it isn't the lack of happiness that turns you into a shell, it's having it ripped away from you without properly letting go." She raised her wand again, and this time, a massive stack of papers from his desk flew into the fire. The flames roared in a shower of sparks, several of which landed dangerously close to the rug. "You need to completely let everything go if you want to generate the explosion of energy you need."

"That was the revisions to the student handbook I was making."

"But it was for magic." When he saw the mischievous look on her face, he started laughing, and then a truly strange thing started happening... She was laughing too, and they were both relaxed and at ease together in the slightly overheated room.

"Alright, then, Wheeler. Show me how it's done if you're such a pro," he challenged, leaning against one of the chairs.

"Challenge accepted," she retorted, lifting her wand. Wheeler took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and then she murmured, "Expecto Patronum." He was surprised by the quiet take she had on the spell, but he came to the conclusion that she did not need shouted words or gestures of the hand.

Immediately, from the tip of her wand, thick strands of silver fog began to roll into a shape. Wings formed, and then a beak, and a proud chest and a pair of intense eyes. It was a buzzard, a proud one with a hooked beak that looked sharp enough to take out Phillip's eye as it soared through the room and left a trail of mist in its wake. He found himself mesmerized by the animal, watching as it circled up above the vaulted ceiling. The bird seemed to sense his gaze, and it turned its piercing gaze onto him. It was just like looking Wheeler in the eyes.

He turned to look at her, with the ghost of a laugh on her lips and satisfaction in her eyes, and then before he knew it he was lifting his wand and repeating the incantation. He did not feed it the memories of the relief of having met his parents' expectations, the feeling that had been mixed with the fear that he would be just like them. He fed it her smile and their banter and the way her laughter made him feel, and he fed it the uncertainty he felt when he looked at her as he questioned every beat of his heart. He fed it the way she had looked, spiraling through the air like she was a breath of wind and then descending as though she had come from the heavens, in spite of her soaked clothing and wild curls.

From his wand, thick clouds of silver smoke began to flow freely, rolling into the massive shape of an animal-- a bear, with massive, hulking shoulders and a lumbering gait as it began to prowl the common room, peering up at the buzzard above. The creature shocked him as it moved away from him, seeming to take on a mind of its own in a way it never had before. It glowed, bright enough to burn its silhouette into his gaze if he looked too long.

"See?" she hummed, turning to look at him with the hint of a smirk. "Now, just do that in DADA and Professor Barnum will be falling over herself to praise you."

Phillip looked at her for a moment, staring. His eyes were wide, and he did not know what to say. His lips did not seem capable of forming words. "I- Thanks, Wheeler," he finally managed to fumble. His tone caused her to raise an eyebrow.

"Merlin, you need to go to bed, Carlyle," she commented as she poured the hot water from the kettle into her mug, the same one she always used. "It's an exhausting spell, and your body heals when you sleep. Your ego will need it tonight to recover from such a brutal loss to me." She gave him a sweet smile as she picked up the mug and left the room, leaving him alone.

Phillip watched as the buzzard circled the bear, causing the creature to tilt its head and stare. The bird was fading, but Phillip watched its every move until it was gone. His own Patronus turned an expectant gaze on Phillip, and he blinked back at the creature, stunned. His previous Patronuses had been a mere shadow of this... The massive creature had come alive in a way that it never had before.

It had come alive with her, the same way Phillip was starting to wonder if he was.

Defense Against the Dark Arts had gone exactly the way that Wheeler had predicted, with Professor Barnum thrilled to no end by the creature that burst free of his wand. The N.E.W.T level class was smaller, a mix of students from all of the houses, so Wheeler was there as well. Across the room, she had tossed him a smirk that unsettled him because of the way it caused his heart to leap. Rowle and Rosier, who were also in the class, had sat at his side with massive sneers as other students attempted the incantation as if his success somehow carried over to them. When Wheeler went, however, they could find no reason to sneer.

Her buzzard soared through the air for a few moments, seeming to enjoy being the object of awe for the moment. But then, it spotted the bear that Phillip had produced from the night before. The creature opened its beak and allowed a caw to escape as it flew to the familiar creature, and then it perched on the lumbering shoulders of Phillip's Patronus, which had yet to fade. His bear let out a bemused huff, but it made no move to brush off the creature. It was Phillip's turn to give Wheeler a smug grin, and she had quickly looked away from him.

The feeling of success carried over all throughout Phillip's morning, and into the lunch hours. He had not even minded, so much, listening to Fawley and Avery ramble on about some attack on a Muggle building in Cokeworth. He had the full feeling in his chest of knowing he had improved, that he had done well... But part of him wanted to explore why.

Why had Anne Wheeler's presence been the thing he reached for to fuel his Patronus charm? And more than that, why had it worked so well?