#he asked if my music was on spotify and I said no it's on tumblr

[secondbeatsongs]

things got weird today. ended up playing So Claybe for my top surgeon during a revision, but like. in my defense, he asked.

so dr. song, if you're reading this...I'm so sorry

[byuntrash101]

30 secs in heaven

dom!reader x sub!hyunjae

smut | nsfw | mdni

frat fuckboy!hyunjae,ennemies to fwb(ish), slut shaming hyunjae, shaming hyunjae for being a virgin (there's nothing wrong with being a virgin or a slut tbh they're sociological constructs it's your body do what u want), just shaming hyunjae in general (you are kinda mean oops), premature ejac, cumming untouched, lasting training, multiple orgasms (m), overstim (m), oral (f), face riding, nude sub/clothed dom, begging, degradation, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia, slight pain play, spit play, unprotected sex (it's discussed but they decide against it. don't be like them kids), creampie

requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]

turns out the campus' fuckboy is nothing more than a pathetic virgin that cums way too fast

[❛ this is a one time thing. ❜ + ❛ shut up and kiss me already. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REGLOB MY WORK 🖤

“How old are we?” Hyunjae snorted. “12?” he asked, cocking a disdainful eyebrow, looking down at the empty clear vodka bottle at the center of the circle.

“Don’t be a fucking twat for once will you?” Sangyeon retorted, eyes shooting daggers at the younger blonde man.

He wasn’t wrong though. Playing this hybrid of spin the bottle meets 7 minutes in heaven was kind of childish for a bunch of college sophomore and juniors such as yourselves but you didn’t speak your mind. For two reasons.

One. The night reached a state where everyone was trashed out drunk and passed out at various curious places. Even the DJ was blacked out, head resting on one of the house plants so the music was reduced to a random lo fi spotify playlist playing in the background on somebody’s unclaimed laptop.

Two. You didn’t want to side with Hyunjae. Ever. That man kind of repulsed you. You were never into fuckboys especially the ones that had the reputation to back the rumors. You were deeply convinced that every girl on campus has had a go with Hyunjae’s pogo stick and of course if that was what they wanted, great for them but that wasn't your style that's all.

“I don’t need a bottle to take a lucky girl to heaven” Hyunjae declared, a smug smirk playing at his lips, and looking through his long lashes at one of the girls in the circle, even daring to go as far as to wink at her. She immediately started to giggle. 

As far as you were concerned you had to repress a gag and opted for a more discreet but just repulsed facial expression. 

“Yeah right just spin it!” Eric hurried him by motioning to the empty bottle in the circle but that didn’t stop Hyunjae from throwing one last disgustingly fuckboyish eyebrow raise to the snickering girl.

“Aight” he said, reaching for the vodka bottle, starting to spin it.

 Anddd of fucking course it had to land on you. At that moment you and Hyunjae made eye contact. The smugness is gone. You both look at each other in complete confusion, hung in time.

You are not fond of Hyunjae, that's a fact. A known one. The main interested party knew that much from one very reliable source. Experience.

Of course since you breathed and had boobs Hyunjae tried to get into your pants too back when you were a new and introverted freshman in a brand new and intimidating college. But Hyunjae learned pretty fast that introvertedness wasn’t to be confused with shyness. Because you certainly weren't the latter. You rejected him in a way that didn’t leave any room for interpretation or even second chances and he never bothered you again. 

Fuck… Why me?

For a second you argued that the bottle landed between you and Giggles so you really didn’t mind letting her get into the sickeningly small closet with Mr. Universe. But unfortunately Sangyeon and Eric were way too happy to stick Hyunjae with one of the rare girls on campus that never showed interest towards him.

Before you could understand they whisked you both in the tiny closet. And you found yourself squished between a couple of mops, floor detergent and of course the campus’ Angel Face.

You both stayed quiet for a while, both awkwardly standing in the dark. Your arms crossed on your chest while Hyunjae leaned on the door.

“I mean” you were the first one to break the silence. “We can always just wait here for 7 seven minutes.”

“Yeah.” 

Silence again. But it was somehow even more awkward. The air felt heavy, weighing down on your shoulder like lead. 

“I don't want to get herpes or whatever” 

You didn't really know why you said that but it just slipped out of you. Maybe because you hated how dry he was, not making a simple effort to at least talk to you or how he looked like being in your company was the most dreadful thing that could happen to him or maybe it was the booze talking. But nonetheless you said it.

“What?” he whipped his head in your direction.

“Yeah you surely have herpes with all the mouths that you kissed. Too bad they don't make condoms for your mouths” you laughed out loud.

At first Hyunjae looked pissed, sharp eyes peering at you but as his eyebrows relaxed on his forehead a sly smirk pulled his lips.

“You know what?” he started “I think you’re jealous…” he walked to you lifting his arms and placing both his palms at each side of your shoulder, forcing you to back up, trapping you between the wall and his large frame.

The untasteful scent of his overly sweet cologne mixed with the strong smell of cold tobacco floated to your nostrils, by reflex you pushed your chin back in your chest until the back of your head was against the wall too. 

“Maybe you want to be added to my list?” he tilted his head bringing your face closer to yours.

He keeps a list? That's the cringiest thing you ever heard.

“Shut up and kiss me already. Let's get it over with”. You exhaled, bracing yourself.

“Kiss you?” Hyunjae started laughing. “You’re the last thing on earth I want to get my mouth on” he said before standing back straight, letting his hands fall to his side. 

But before he could turn around you grabbed him by the collar and switched position with him, shoving his body onto the detergent bottle and you crashed your lips on him. To your surprise Hyunjae reciprocated the kiss, gradually he relaxed between your arms. You dared to open your mouth, letting your tongue slip past his lips. His flavor took over you, the taste of cigarettes and raspberry vodka filled your head. He started to breathe heavily and then moan into your mouth.

Hyunjae on the other hand didn’t even feel himself get hard. He didn’t have time to understand he liked this change of pace, he liked being pushed around, he liked that you pinned him against the wall and just stole this kiss from him.

You should have known he was enjoying this kiss a little too much but somehow it didn’t ring any bells to you and before you realized it his voice went very high pitched until he broke the kiss abruptly. When you looked at him his eyes were rolled back in his head and his jaw was hanging open.

“Fuckkk” he cursed in a throaty moan.

Silence again. You took your hands off his collar. You looked at him in confusion, looking for some kind of explanation on what just happened into his eyes but the only thing you found was evident and undeniable shame.

“Did you just…” you asked as Hyunjae bit down on his lip in worry when you looked down you spotted the disgraceful wet patch at his crotch.

“Are you for real right now?” you started to chuckle. “Did you really just fucking cum from a simple fucking kiss?” you started laughing louder. “7 minutes in heaven? More like 30 seconds! I can’t fucking believe it. Cumming untouched like a fucking prepubescent virgin.”

In this very delicate situation, saying Hyunjae felt vulnerable was an understatement. And this side eye he made, unable to hold your gaze, betrayed him right away.

“Wait?” you clapped your hand over your mouth. “Nooo wayyyy dude” you laughed even louder, throwing your head back. “Are you a virgin?” 

The silence that followed spoke for itself. Hyunjae felt dizzy, he staggered backwards until his back hit the closed door. 

“Wait, I don't get it… Did you pay those girls to say that you fucked them?” you were still half laughing.

He had nothing to lose anymore.

“N-no… I.” he looked back at you through his lashes, your cold, unwavering glare made him shudder. “I don’t even know how it started” he blurted. “Just one day that girl from my sociology class started to say she fucked me and that I was the best she’d ever been with and I never denied it. And then another girl said the same thing and then another…” Hyunjae’s words get caught in his throat and he swallows back a sob. 

“Why didn’t you say anything, dipshit?” you spat. The biting tone made Hyunjae’s guts stir with an unknown feeling.

“I don’t know, okay?” one single tear rolled down his cheek. 

There was something so satisfying in seeing Hyunjae crumble like this, catching him in a lie and finally letting the truth out. You wrapped your hand around his chin, nails poking at his wet cheeks as you made him look at you.

“Yeah I bet you loved having your harem following you around at parties and worshiping the ground that you walked.” You hissed between your teeth.

“Yes… But at the same time I was petrified to be with a girl… because of that reputation I was too scared to disappoint her that she would tell the truth to everyone…”

“And losing the attention felt unbearable, right?” you dug your nails a little deeper on his cushiony cheeks.

“Yess!!” he exclaimed, wincing at the pain, another repressed little sob pathetically shaking his large body.

“You know what…” you let go of his face, raising both your palms at each side of your face . “I don’t want to stay here for another fucking second.” 

“No please” He whispered, pressing his back on the door to prevent you from leaving. 

Maybe, there was an opportunity in all this. For both of you.

“I-I…” he hesitated. “y/n… I can offer you a deal…” he somewhat regained his composure, straightening his back against the wooden door.

You were intrigued. 

“Maybe you… I mean…” he hesitated.

“Spit it out Lee” you urged him, your patience running thin.

“Maybe you could fuck me?” he blurted out.

“What?” you frowned in confusion.

“We could help each other. You help me… conquer my fear” Hyunjae walked on eggshells, the proposition sounding more and more like a polite suggestion rather than an actual deal  “and in exchange I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. Anything goes” he added.

Now that was something you could get to enjoy. Breaking the cocky fuckboy into a pathetic little mess.

“You would like that wouldn't you? '” without a heads up you grabbed Hyunjae's crotch. Package tightly fitting in your palm. “You think I didn’t notice how your dick didn’t go down this whole time?” Hyunjae whimpered ever so slightly in response. “You like when I’m mean to you don’t you?” The blonde whined again but didn’t speak. “You like when I make fun of you, huh?” you grip around his balls becoming ever so slightly tighter. “When I call you names?”

“Yess” Hyunjae admitted in a broken whisper, eyes tightly shut, shame painting his beautiful features.

“Pathetic” you spit. “You cum from a simple kiss then stay hard when I laugh at you. Your cock is really begging to be used, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Use me” he responds back a little more eagerly than he would have liked. You clench a little harder around his crotch making him gasp for air and jolt his hips into your hand.

“Good boys always say please” you whisper in his ear, the hot air lifting goosebumps on Hyunjae’s skin, drawing a quiet whimper out of the boy.

“Please, please, please” he whispered back, shallow breaths giving away the urge he felt. You smirk at his state of aggravated neediness. 

“This is a one time thing” you finally agreed as you find your fingers fiddling with the button of his jeans. Hyunjae’s face lights up in hope.

“Yes! Please! fuck me and I will never bother you again I’ll-” his voice got caught in his throat when you carefully peeled the denim off him. Hyunjae’s hips move against his will one more time when you drag down his wet and cum soaked boxers as he felt the cold air hit his scolding hot and leaking tip. You bit your lip at the sight. His cock hadn’t stop leaking from the kiss. Precum and cum mixing at making his cock glisten under the dim light of the closet. 

“Take everything off and get on your knees” you said, taking a step back to allow him some space to fulfill your request which he did hurriedly.

In a flash he was sitting on his heels in front of you looking up at you through his lashes, both hands laid flat on his thighs while he waited for you. You didn't even bother taking your clothes off, only sliding off your underwear from under your skirt. When you lifted the fabric and unveiled to Hyunjae the very object of his desire he stopped breathing. He left like he had never in his life laid eyes on anything this beautiful, this perfect. 

He licked his lips hungrily, wanting nothing more but to wrap his mouth around the glistening folds.

“Make me cum with your mouth like a good little fuck toy” you said shoving your hips onto his face.

Instantly Hyunjae started to move at a rapid pace burying his face in the wet crevices, wanting to drown in you. You grabbed the eager boy by his thick blonde locks.

“Slower you dumb cunt” you pulled archly on his face, making his neck bend awkwardly to look up at you. “You a fucking bitch in heat or something?” Hyunjae winced at the dull pain on his scalp. 

Hyunjae took a deep breath to calm himself down and stuck his tongue out, carefully swiping it from your entrance to your clit. You let a satisfied sight slip off your lips. And Hyunjae’s hands fly to your thighs to ground his body between your thighs and his mind to the present. Trying so bad to keep it slow as your taste intoxicates him, turning him into an animal.

“Yeah like that” you say as you relax your hand around his hair, even gently stroking it. You start to rock your hips on his tongue. Grinding your clit on his mouth just a little harder.

Hyunjae reads between the lines and goes ever so slightly faster. Twirling his hot tongue around your erect nub then going back down to dip the tip at your opening earning a pleased moan from you. You throw your head back and just lose yourself in the pleasure he provides you. Letting your voice go more high pitched as you near your high

That sound alone is enough for Hyunjae to lose control again. He was holding off so well up until then. So well when you squeezed his crotch, so well when he stripped for you, so well when he first tasted your nectar on his lips but the sound you made while your scent filled his head was too much for him. Again the white clumpy liquid spurted out of his beet red cock to stained his thighs and stomach while he moaned into your pussy. His large body shaking under you as he orgasmed once more.

When you noticed you turned around only to witness what you feared had happened. You saw Hyunjae’s mess all over his thighs and stomach. The slimy liquid finding refuge in the dents of his hips around his abs. You grabbed a fist full of his hair again.

“You fucking pathetic little bitch” you pulled his face away from your folds. “You fucking came again!” 

“S-sorry” he barely managed to say looking up at you with his cheeks and chin made shiny with your essence, mind still hazy from his high. 

“You deserve punishment don’t you think?” you growled as you pulled harshly on his hair bending his neck backwards, the sharp pain making his eyes prickle.

“Yes, I do. ‘m sorry y/n” he started to mumble. His guts stirred in anticipation when he saw your glacial eyes stare back at him with resentment. 

“Open your mouth” you demanded. “Stick your tongue out”

Hyunjae felt his cock twitch when he saw you lean in and purse your lips only to spit right on his tongue.

“Don’t swallow yet.” you instructed, hand still gripping tight around his hair. “Say thank you” 

“Pthang you” Hyunjae replied as best as he could as the slimy foreign liquid rolled on his tongue, making his insides flutter with thrill and joy.

“Swallow” you said.

And he did. Happily taking your spit down his throat almost as a trophy an indelible token of what you both did in this closet.

You let go of his hair and step away and Hyunjae collapses. He sits with his legs forward and his sweaty back against the cool wooden door.

You positioned both your feet at each side of his hips and started to crouch down. Hyunjae jolts when he feels your hand wrap around his bare cock guiding it to your entrance. Cock twitching at the idea of serving you properly. 

“Do you have a condom?” he asked between hisses as you lightly pump your fist around him.

“No. You?” you ask back and he shakes his head. You circle his tip on your hot wet folds which makes him arch his back against the door and press his lips into a thin line.

“Should we go get one?” he says, frowning in worry.

You let go of his cock and motion your chin to the door. “Go ahead. Go out and ask your friends for a condom.” You taunted him.

Hyunjae was conscious of the state he was in and the last thing he wanted was for his friends to see him like this, him that was so preoccupied with appearances. So he shook his head again.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy” you said as you grabbed his base again, angling him right at your entrance. “Today is a safe day for me” you said and you sunk yourself on his cock. The hot tip deliciously parting you, sliding with ease inside your drenched heat.

It took Hyunjae everything he had to not burst again. Finally popping his cherry. Finally feeling the delicious wetness and warmth of your pussy around him. Completely unrestrained, raw. He thought his whole body was going to burst into flames, his heart hammering against his ribs.

You saw him struggle, eyes shut tight, eyebrows digging a deep crease on his forehead, jaw clenched and nails clawing at the wooden floor. You grabbed his face between your fingers, sharp nails poking at his cheeks. The pain helped Hyunjae concentrate on something else that wasn’t the agonizing pleasure he felt on his throbbing cock.

“Look at me! Don’t you fucking cum, you hear?” you forced him to look at you. Slapping his cheek when you caught him losing focus, his eyes turning in his head. It worked and Hyunjae calmed down.

“Ok” he stated, out of breath. “I’m good”

You started to very slowly lift your hips up.

“I can’t fucking believe you came twice and you are still this fucking hard” you moaned as his tip was barely hanging inside of you to smash yourself back in. "You really are like a fuck toy ready to get used again and again and again" you said making your hips snap down with every word.

Hyunjae whimpered as a reply, biting down his lower lip in shame.

You climb the ladder of pleasure very rapidly given the orgasm Hyunjae robbed you of earlier you too were pretty worked up and with very little time you found yourself flirting with your edge again. 

Hyunjae, on the other hand, was being tortured by the strong grip of your walls around him. As you were nearing your high you clenched down harder on him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.

“Y/n… aaah” he was out of breath. Large beads of sweat dripping down his temples and hanging under his chin. “I can’t hold back anymore. Gonna aaah c-cum” he was at the end of his rope. His fucked out half lidded eyes looking at you with the most miserable of expressions.

You knew you were close, you figured you let the man let go before he loses the sanity he has left.

“Cum” you said.

The result was almost immediate. Hyunjae moaned out loud, finally letting go of his clenched jaw to let it lose as a string of groans and high pitched moans left his lips, to reverberate on all the walls of the tight space, probably to be heard by everyone outside that was not knocked out drunk. You felt Hyunjae delivering an abundant quantity of cum right in your pussy. Each of your thrust shoving the cum even deeper inside your dripping heat.

But you hadn’t finish yet and you don't intend to let yourself be edged to this level twice on the same night. You weren't going to stop before you grasp your orgasm.

Hyunjae started to whine when you kept on bouncing on his sensitive and drained out cock. Still constricting the poor member around your unforgiving wall. Hips still going strong with the brutal pace, determined to rip your orgasm out of Hyunjae.

“Please. Slow down I–Aaaa” tears started to roll down his face mixing with the sweat on his chiseled jaw.

“Shut up, I'm almost there” you said, clapping your hand on Hyunjae's mouth. His face contorting in overstimulation at the forced pleasure he winced under your touch, the face of true suffering. Hyunjae’s anguish was the last straw for you.

You finally snatch your high, hips becoming sloppy as you let yourself moan out, throwing your head back and pushing your hips back and forth, making Hyunjae’s cum gush out of you, mixing his previous loads still pooling on his stomach. 

You gradually slow down, riding out your high slowly until you come to a complete stop. You keep Hyunjae’s dick right inside you. After a couple of minutes of both of you trying to clear your minds and catch your breath you speak.

“You aren’t really ready be able to live up to your reputation yet but come see me again I’ll teach you to last for hours.”

a/n: ooooff. idk what happened here? i was really in my domme head space and my fingers slipped. thank you anon who requested this is one of my faves <3 guysss did you like it? if yes please consider leaving a comment or an ask. 1 comment = 1 forehead kiss from cat <3. ily

[gomapda]

sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 2)

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

side A found here! | side B (part 1) found here!

author's note:

part two of side b!

the final installment.

it's been a long journey to get here, and any messages or words i read in the tags of the reblogs were a source of comfort for me during these times. i'm glad that my words resonated with even just one of you.

and of course, thank you for being here.

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

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

genre: romance, fluff

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

rating: 13+

length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)

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

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

inspo spotify playlist found here!

──────────────────

“Noona, I need help.”

Immediately, the older girl closed the book she was reading, a young adult romance novel and turned her attention to him. “You never ask for my help. What’s going on?”

“I… I like Y/N.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Jihoon balked. “What? Does everyone know this already?”

“Y/N doesn’t.”

He groaned loudly.

“Are you finally wanting to tell her?”

“I mean, yeah. I—I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I got just the thing for you, Jihoonie.”

Jihoon spent his time trying to come up with some elaborate and dramatic confession (per the advice of his noona). They sat in cafes, picking out different foods that the two of them knew you’d enjoy, scoping out different restaurants, going to the library and her handing him too many romance novels.

After a few weeks, “Noona, you sure this is going to work?”

“Nope.”

“What?! Then why am I doing this?”

“I was just curious to see how much you were willing to do for her. She deserves nothing less than the best, you know,” the girl grinned, now revealing her mischievous side, one that he has never seen before. “Jihoon, you really think that she’s going to want anything that’s a grand gesture?”

“Well. No, but I thought you would know her—”

“Jihoonie, there’s no one that knows her better than you, I think. You probably know her and see her for how she really is. More than she can see herself. All you have to do is just tell her the truth. That’s it.”

“…this was a waste of time.”

She hummed. “Hm, nothing came up for you?”

“What do you mean?”

He could see that she was fidgeting with her fingers. She let out a nervous laugh as she said, “I actually wanted to see whether you still liked me. Whether spending time with me was going to change your mind. Not that I wanted it to! But I didn’t want you to be wishy-washy. She needs stability. She’s already chaotic on her own.”

“You knew I liked you?”

“Just a tiny bit.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Would you have given me a chance?”

“Would you have tried?”

The two of them sat there for a moment, mulling over the weight of the words said between them. But they both knew that there was someone else in their lives who mattered more, who they truly yearned for. If Jihoon and his noona ever pursued something, it would’ve just been them trying to find comfort in each other because they couldn’t have who they wished for. They would’ve tried to shape each other to fit the missing puzzle piece, losing the essence of themselves.

Jihoon and his noona were only mere reflections of who they actually wanted, the illusion created because of how much time was spent together. And that image would’ve faded fast.

“No, I don’t think I would have.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Good luck with him.”

“Yeah… good luck with her. It’ll work out.”

──────────────────

Plenty of people could say that his noona was childish, that she should have picked another route to go down. That it all could’ve been left unsaid. But Jihoon was grateful for her choice to do what she did. Because you didn’t deserve that “what if?”. Neither did he. You both needed to be sure.

And he felt it, walking into the restaurant.

He immediately recognized you, even with your head down. He was so used to seeing you from afar that this was a sight that was unfortunately so familiar to him. He walked forward in hopes of closing the distance between the two of you.

“Jihoon! Hey!” Your cousin said, frantically.

Jihoon held back his laughter, the sight of his hyung flustered a rare occurrence. “Hey, hyung.”

“Oh my goodness, it’s our Jihoonie! Hi!”

He could see that her eyes were screaming: save us. Jihoon wondered if he’d be able to. “Hi, noona.”

Ah, there you went.

Your eyes finally met his.

God, so beautiful.

“Hey, firefly.”

“Holy fuck.”

Jihoon was startled. Since when did you curse? And the fuck word too? But it must be a new development considering the other two were making a huge commotion over it. But even in the midst of chastising, you didn’t break eye contact.

“It’s been a while.”

You blinked. “Um. Yes.”

He couldn’t help but smile. This was happening.

His brilliant and warm and fiery sun.

The reason behind why his own light exists.

His guide, his inspiration, his hope.

His firefly.

Close enough to reach out and catch.

But not quite yet.

“So, are you all done eating?”

“No, not even close! Only ordered one pajeon, but feel free to order anything that you want! Oppa will be covering,” his noona responded as she motioned for him to take the seat next to you. He did and immediately felt you tense up beside him. Jihoon mentally cursed at himself. He should’ve asked.

He decided to lean back in his chair to try to mimic the body language he hoped from you: relaxed. “Hyung’s the best.”

“One day, I’ll make you spend that idol money of yours.”

“Alright, it’s a deal.”

You must have recovered from your shock, since you piped up with a, “Wait. Shouldn’t you be careful about eating out? What if someone sees you here? Couldn’t something happen?”

Aw, you were worried for him. “This is a restaurant that’s frequented by SEVENTEEN. This specific table is so far removed in the corner that it’d be hard to get a good look at my face, especially since my back’s to them.”

You looked around and scanned the area, probably noticing the boisterous environment of hweshiks overpowering the casual dining you were partaking in. “Hm. Okay…”

“You worried about me?”

“No, I’m worried I’m going to end up in Dispatch with message requests from sasaeng fans.”

Jihoon felt the color drain from his face. “If you’re uncomfortable with me being here—”

You immediately shook your head. “That was a joke, I guess it was too serious of a reality for it to seem like one. Jihoon, thanks, really. But I’m scary good at ignoring people. Uh… I’m… I’m glad that you’re here. Seriously.” You paused for a moment, probably noticing the tension that he was too aware of. “Because we’re with two weakass eaters so it’s up to us to finish the job. Will you join me on our noble mission?”

He snorted out a ‘yes’ and the table laughed. Your cousin brought up a time where you were crying because you hated wasting food but the dish was too spicy but you were too stubborn to stop eating. You quickly reminded him that he was the one who tapped out first and left a 9-year-old to solve the issue (“Wouldn’t have been a problem for me if you didn’t create one, oppa!”). The four of you spent more time catching up than thinking about what to order until you were all brought back into the reality that you were at a restaurant and ordered nothing but a pajeon and drinks.

The older two let you and Jihoon decide, as you were both pickier eaters than they were. Once the food arrived, you fell into a rhythm of years’ practice. You pushed your portion of fish and beef onto his plate and he pushed his portion of bean sprouts and japchae onto yours. You both split the pork belly serving evenly between the two of you.

His arm would (accidentally) brush against yours but none of the tension remained from earlier. You didn’t retract, you didn’t run away. In fact, you poked his arm for his attention midway in the conversation and he never thought such a small thing could evoke such happiness.

──────────────────

Physical touch was never something that Jihoon craved. In fact, in most cases, he felt negatively towards it. So, the experience of being touch-starved was not something he knew anything about.

That is, until you were gone for two weeks at an academic competition.

Why the hell was an academic competition half a month? And during summer break? What did they expect middle schoolers to do? Solve world hunger with pi? (The number, not the food.)

You were spending your school vacation for the sake of more school.

What a stupid concept.

And you were on the same team as Baek Yunho, the star player of the baseball team and chemistry league. Jihoon saw the way that Yunho would try to come up to you after a game, but you only ever made a beeline towards Jihoon.

He didn’t realize just how much the two of you gravitated towards each other. Between class periods, he’d pinch your nose or flick your forehead or you would attempt to bring him to his knees by pushing your own into the back of his and fail miserably and he would roundhouse kick you in response. If the two of you had the time, you would go over to his house and dig your toes into his ribcage when he totally owned you during a game of Super Smash Bros. And during the summer, usually, you would be sprawled over him, back to back, as he would watch anime or play games on his phone and you would read your summer reading list.

But normal people wouldn’t consider that physical touch.

And yet here he was, genuinely touch-starved, because you were in Daegu with a whole seven days left.

He grumbled under his breath. Another day has gone by without seeing Baek Yunho during practice which meant another day that you were gone. Something that occupied his mind, as he opened the door to his bedroom, swinging his baseball bag onto his bed.

And he heard a loud, “ow!”

He saw you rubbing your knee on his bed, with a pout on your face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

That’s one way to say he missed you.

“I came back from my competition today to apparently get assaulted by my best friend.”

“I thought it was two weeks long.”

“The whole thing is, but I opted out of the award ceremony. Plus, I only competed in the writing and foreign language portion because that’s all they needed me for, which all happened in the first week.”

Jihoon’s mind didn’t catch up with his body as he reached for you. You yelped and threw a pillow at him, “Ew. No, you just got back from practice and you’re sweaty!”

“Firefly, you’re missing out on a rare opportunity.”

You paused for a moment, possibly recalling all the times he’s rejected a hug from you and realizing this indeed was very rare. “Can you at least wipe off your sweat?”

“Nope, not at all,” Jihoon snickered.

It was now a competition to see who would be the faster one, you rushing for the door or his arms. And of course, the athlete that he is, Jihoon won.

“You smell like the sun! Stop!”

He decidedly rubbed his neck into the shoulder of your shirt and you did your best to wiggle away, but failed. Your look of disdain was met with Jihoon’s satisfied one. “Lee Jihoon, you’re the worst.”

“I’m glad my punching bag is back.”

You pushed his hair back only to immediately retract. “Ugh! How does so much sweat just come out of you?”

“Does it matter when I have a towel right here?”

You pinched his ear as he pushed his sweaty forehead against the other shoulder of your shirt. You burst into a fit of giggles when he found your ticklish spot in the middle of your thigh, but soon enough, your ankle found purchase around his and pushed him onto the ground as you clambered away and into his closet, probably to find a shirt to change into.

He was left there on his bedroom floor, listening to your ramblings about his sweat, almost deliriously happy.

He was satisfied, no longer a starving man.

──────────────────

After the food was finished (thanks to the two of you), the four of you walked out of the restaurant, the couple saying they were so full they wanted to walk it off on the way to their hotel. They offered for the two of you to join them but you declined, saying the hotel was in the opposite direction of your home.

Your cousin felt uneasy leaving you to walk home on your own. But you pointed at Jihoon with your thumb and said, “Jihoonie can walk me home, if you’re so worried. But even if he can’t, I’ve lived here long enough. This isn’t anything new.”

As if your cousin completely ignored the latter half of what you said, he glanced at Jihoon who gave a quick nod. “I’ll walk her home. Don’t worry. Then I’ll take a taxi back myself.”

After much long-winded convincing, the two headed off to the hotel while you and him were left walking down the street, his own face masked up and covered with a baseball hat in case of anything.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me home.”

“I’d like to, if that’s alright with you.”

He noticed you adjusting the hem of your shirt. “Okay. It’s a little bit of a walk from here. Maybe 30 to 40 minutes or so.”

“That’s 30 to 40 minutes I’d like to spend with you.”

“…yeah. I’d like that too.”

This felt almost surreal. You by his side.

But also so natural, almost inevitable.

As if this was all just waiting to happen.

After a moment’s pause, you asked him what he was doing for the coming months, if there were any plans.

“There’s a concert that Bumzu’s holding in Busan, and he’s asking some SEVENTEEN members to perform, so I’ll be doing a solo piece for that one.”

“Oh, SIMPLE?”

You immediately made a face as if you got caught admitting something embarrassing and Jihoon grinned. “Ah, you know my solo song?”

“Hm. Maybe…” You trailed off, looking everywhere but at him.

Cute.

“It might’ve possibly made it as my top song of the year in 2016.”

Agh, even cuter. “I’ll tell Yoon Jeonghan that he’s not actually your bias and you’re actually a Woozidan.”

“You can call me a Woozidan, you’d just be exceedingly and astronomically incorrect, like always. Unlike me, who is right, quite literally 100% of the time.”

Jihoon laughed. “Hey, I’ll have you know I’m one of the brains in SEVENTEEN, alright?”

“That’s because you were forged in the fire that was your friendship with me. Of having to deal with my illogical thinking.”

“Ain’t that the damn truth.”

The mood between the two of you was solid and Jihoon felt his resolve flare up within him, gathering the courage to ask, “If I invited you to Bumzu’s concert, would you go?”

“Oh. The one in Busan?”

“Yes.”

“Uh. When is it? I’m supposed to start work in three weeks.”

He wondered how big of a Carat you were because he knew that most would jump at the opportunity, but he felt oddly reassured that you weren’t a fan who would shirk on your responsibilities. “It’s in two weeks. You can… uh, bring Hyejin?”

You blinked up at him. “You know her?”

“She, uh, is always on your Instagram.”

“That’s very sweet of you and she’s gonna freak out that you know her, but she’s actually going to be in Jeonju that entire week with Wheein-unnie because they’re visiting their family. And then none of my other friends know about me knowing you. But. You know what? What kind of Carat would I be if I turned down this offer?”

Great minds think alike. “So… I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you will. I’ll sing the chorus of SIMPLE so loud I’ll overpower even your vocals.”

“You know, I never said I was singing SIMPLE.”

“Oh, what? What are you singing then?”

Jihoon grinned. “Guess you’ll have to come and find out.”

You let out a low whistle. “Wow, what an idol. Using your charm to convince me to use up my time and money.”

“You think I’m charming?”

“Enough that my wallet is in constant danger.”

“You know, I can always give you free things.”

“It’s okay. Buying your albums and merchandise and concert tickets have been the only way I can support you. And, well, I did promise I would be your number one fan.”

“‘S alright. That’s all in the past.”

Jihoon noticed you flinching at those words. Your voice was barely above a whisper, “…Is it really all in the past? It’s not that simple, is it, Jihoonie?”

He remained silent.

So did you.

You both walked, the evening stroll accompanied only by the artificial lights of the city, the sun having long since gone to rest and the light of the moon nowhere to be found.

You reached the doorstep of your apartment and you turned back to face him. “I think… We probably have a lot to talk about. But maybe the timing is off right now. I know I need to sort myself out, if that’s okay? I’m trying to do this thing where I think before I talk instead of just diving in and regretting something, you know?”

Jihoon nodded. He was all too familiar with that.

“But I just want to let you know that I still want to be a part of your life. And we can navigate how that will look like when we’re both not caught up in living our lives. Is… is that okay?”

He wanted to cry. “More than that.”

You smiled. “I’ll see you at the concert, Jihoonie.”

“I’ll see you, firefly.”

──────────────────

After that night, he was thrown back into his and SEVENTEEN’s work. Outside of Bumzu’s concert, they were working on their next album, aiming to release it in just two months, the theme centered around a youthful infatuation blossoming into a mature love.

He wondered what you would think of it.

One night, he was in his studio with Soonyoung again who looked over Jihoon’s latest solo for Bumzu’s concert.

“Jihoon, this is the saddest shit I’ve ever read.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Are you sure that this is what you’re wanting to perform? That this is what you want her to hear? In front of hundreds of people?”

“It’s… the most honest I can be. Yeah, it could scare her off. But I don’t think we can keep moving forward without addressing what happened between us. But I didn’t make this song to make her feel bad. I made it so I could let go of the pain I associate with the old her to be able to make space for the new her, you know what I mean?”

Soonyoung spared no expression. “Whatever you think is best, Hoon.”

“I’m just going to take a leap of faith,” Jihoon sighed. There really was no predicting exactly how things would turn out. You were different, he was different. There were too many unknown variables with the situation. “Hopefully she’ll be there to catch me.”

“Mm.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinking about how you’re going to be singing a ballad, pouring your true and genuine feelings, and I’ll be performing Hurricane in a tiger print shirt.”

Jihoon paused for a moment. “Duality of SEVENTEEN.”

──────────────────

You must have also been busy, as the only notification he got from you was on the day of the concert. It was a selfie of you at a gas station in the wee hours of the morning, no doubt filling your tank before your 4 and a half hour car ride, with a message saying, “i’m on my way to you! fueled by overpriced gas and cheap snacks!”

You were on your way. To him.

There was an electricity that was coursing through him that went beyond just nerves before a show. No, there was so much more riding on this, and as much as he wants to believe and trust that everything would work out in some way or another, there is the deep part of him that yearns for it to work out for the best. The most ideal cut.

He pressed his hands against his chest, as he tried to mimic compression.

But there was just too much bursting out of him to truly contain.

“Jihoon-ah, you alright?”

He must have looked like a crazed man to Jeonghan because the latter had an incredulous look on his face as soon as they made eye contact. “Do I not seem alright?”

“No.”

“Hyung.”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle and moved behind him to squeeze the shoulders of the stressed man. “It’s okay to hope, you know.”

“It feels like hope is the reason I can’t breathe right now. If it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t care this much. If it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t be in this position.”

“You’re right. You wouldn’t be. Without hope, you wouldn’t be in SEVENTEEN. You wouldn't have become an idol, be our unit’s leader, become a producer, written songs, or even had the chance to reconcile with her. All of what you are would’ve been impossible without hope”

Jihoon bit his lip. “I feel like I’m going crazy, hyung. I keep going back and forth between whether it’s worth it. I haven’t felt anxiety like this in years. I know that lo–love–” Jihoon realized he never said that word so directly about her. He always found more poetic ways to dance around the word. “–can be a lot of work. But this? It makes me think that it’s not meant to be. When I see her and when I’m with her, it feels so right. But when she’s not in front of me, I feel like the best thing to do is to just run away.”

“Yeah, but you ran away last time, right?”

“And I wouldn’t be in SEVENTEEN if I hadn’t.”

“But you’ve still pined after her for all these years.”

“Maybe that’s just me being stubborn.”

“Yeah, and? What about it?”

“What happens if I’m pining after her because I regret hurting someone I cared about, my best friend. What if I don’t actually love her–”

Jihoon’s voice caught in his throat.

Jeonghan answered in a low whisper, and Jihoon is sure that if he turned around, he would see pity in his older member’s eyes. “Jihoon–”

“No, I know,” he quickly cut him off, sighing. “Ridiculous notion. Hyung, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t understand myself at all. Just yesterday, I was talking a big game about how I needed to trust her and take a leap of faith and now it feels like I’m going back on it.”

“So, you don’t trust her?”

“That’s… not it.”

“Then what is it, Jihoon?”

“I… I can’t…”

“It’s just you and me here.”

Lee Jihoon and Yoon Jeonghan.

The very two people who were in that room together when that fateful encounter on social media occurred.

Yoon Jeonghan, the island of SEVENTEEN.

“What if she doesn’t love me back?”

Jeonghan felt Jihoon’s shoulders tremble underneath his grip. The older began to rub gentle circles and stood there in silence as the younger buried his face in his hands. “...She could.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“What if she does?”

“That’s not–”

“–How it works? Why are your worries more likely than your hope? Are they more logical? More based in reality? Listen, they’re all just thoughts driven by feelings. They both have an equal chance of happening, and yet you are convinced your worries are true. And maybe that’s your fault. Your fault because you keep suppressing your hope in fear of pain and rejection. So that later down the line, you can tell yourself that you knew it anyway. But guess what? This isn’t a game where you’re trying to come out of this as the least hurt.”

Jihoon felt lucky that Jeonghan couldn’t see his face.

“Just think of it as finally being able to let out the entire truth that you’ve been hiding for years, the truth that has been found in your lyrics, but is now finally going to reach the person you’ve hoped for so long that it would. She’ll be right there, listening to you. You’ve wanted it for so long. Don’t try to convince yourself all of a sudden that it’s not.”

“...Yeah.”

“Plus, they already have the line-up and backing vocals set up, so. It’s not like you can change it now. Go put your in-ear in. We’ll be in the audience. All of us.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

“...I’m not sure if it means anything, but you’re a good man, Lee Jihoon. I’m proud of you.”

Jeonghan patted the younger’s shoulder before exiting the small space, leaving Jihoon to his own thoughts. Ones that no longer swirled over the possibility of pain or even the potential of reciprocation. Instead, he thought about his members. The ones he’s told he’s loved, both in teasing ways and genuine utterances.

And then he thought of you.

He’d like you to hear the same from him.

At least once.

(And hopefully more.)

──────────────────

Busan’s driving laws were nothing like the rest of Korea. 

Luckily growing up in Busan, you were aware of the way that the drivers swerved in and out of lanes, making illegal (?) turns any chance they got. The flow of traffic in Busan is so aggressively different from Seoul, that it felt as though you had to flip a switch to reorient yourself into the version of you that learned how to first drive in Busan.

Not long after the person you were driving to see had stormed out of your home.

You sighed.

You weren’t sure what to expect at the concert.

It felt almost embarrassing how much you daydreamed over him potentially singing a song to you. The reality is dangerously close to overlapping with the delusion that you found yourself trying to literally shake away the thoughts.

But how could you not be a little hopeful?

The love of your life invited you to a concert, with him singing a solo song.

Maybe he’d confess–

The honk of the car behind you pulled you out of your thoughts. You groaned loudly, slapping your forehead. “Get it together, Y/N!”

Jihoon had told you to enter the concert hall through a certain entrance, and that you wouldn’t need to wait amongst the lines. He recommended waiting until everyone else was seated, so you would still have 20 minutes to kill before entering the venue.

You drove, mentally fighting yourself every kilometer of the way, until you finally reached the venue. You showed the badge that Jihoon had given you and was directed towards the back lot where staff parked. You cut the engine and sat there, attempting to calm yourself down.

You immediately get a request for FaceTime on your phone.

You answer it.

“Bumblebee!”

“Unnie, I can feel myself eroding away.”

Hyejin rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

You heard Wheein’s voice in the background. “Is that Y/N?”

Hyejin answered, “Yeah. Wanna say something?”

Wheein popped into frame. You gave a weak wave. “Are you gonna confess today?”

“What? No. That wasn’t in the plan.”

“Okay? Then change the plan,” Wheein said, as though it was the most obvious thing.

“I just want to be friends.”

“Forever?” Wheein asked.

“For now,” Hyejin supplied.

You rolled your eyes. “Listen. All I know is that I want to be in his life, and whatever that looks like is still to be determined, alright?”

“But what do you want in the long run?”

“You know I can’t plan for the long-term. Let’s just take things day by day, alright?”

“Okay, but what if he confesses today?” Wheein asked.

“He won’t.”

“What if he does?”

“I–”

Hyejin tapped Wheein’s thigh off-camera. “She’ll handle it if it comes up. No matter what happens, we’ll be here to pick up your call, okay? Whether it be to sort out your feelings or to just fangirl about the concert. We’ll be here to listen to whatever you’re willing to share. There’s not much to do here in Jeonju anyway, so. Just hit us up.”

“Go eat Jeonju bibimbap.”

“We did,” they answered in unison.

You let out a short laugh. “Alright. Well. Regardless of everything, time will continue to pass. I’m going to just bask in the fact that I was invited by a member of my favorite idol group to watch his performance.”

“And that’s already cool as hell,” Wheein nodded.

The three of you chatted about their plans for the week while you did your best to focus on the conversation while still paying attention to the time left until the concert. Not long after, you bid them farewell to once again sit in silence in your car, pressing your hands against your chest.

It was time.

──────────────────

Bumzu’s concert started off as nothing less than spectacular.

You always admired his musical prowess, knowing that he was the one who helped Jihoon form his own identity as a producer and songwriter. Bumzu was a titan in his own right, his lyricism and musicality rivaling plenty of others in the field.

Although his talent is impeccable, the venue itself was small. His transition from performing towards writing and producing had a hand in influencing the number of tickets sold. You also realized belatedly that the concert wasn’t advertised to include the SEVENTEEN members that you were promised.

Regardless, it felt like such an intimate space, you were thankful for it.

You were in the upper gallery, away from the rest of the concert attendees. There wasn’t anyone else nearby you, and you assumed that would stay the case.

That is, until you heard someone sit right next to you.

You glanced over, not wanting to be overt in noticing them (although, Korean culture lends itself to staring at others outside of Seoul and Busan), and you felt your breath hitch.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I–yeah.”

“I recorded a video for you for your graduation,” the most beautifully ethereal man on this side of existence said. “Do you remember?”

“I–yeah.”

He flashed a brilliant grin. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

“I–yeah.”

“Congratulations on graduating.”

“I–” This time, his voice overlapped yours. “Yeah.”

You flushed. “Sorry. I’m just– I’m kind of taken aback.”

“I heard I was your favorite member, your bias.”

“Mm. That’s true.”

“Why is that the case?”

You paused for a moment, the vocals of Bumzu drowning out the sounds of your conversation. “They say that your bias is the one who’s most similar to you. And your bias wrecker is the one that you’d most likely want to date or be romantically involved with.”

“Oh, so, we’re similar?”

“In the way that we love others, I think? From what other members have said about you, the way that you love is both wide and deep. You love others in a way where you can be a home for them during times of hardship,” you said, sheepishly. It felt almost strange to claim you were as loving as you were, but. You knew yourself. You knew your heart. Even the bad parts. “Also, we both would cheat at games.”

“It’s the only way to play.”

“Winning is too easy otherwise,” you added.

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “Well. That makes me feel better.”

“That I cheat at games?”

“No. That you love in the same way that I do. Because if you love Jihoonie as much as I love him, I think I have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“I do.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m sorry?”

“I do love him,” you said, unhesitantly. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest decision to tell one of Jihoon’s closest confidants this information. But, it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t ever meant to be a secret. It was simply a fact. “There’s no way that I wouldn’t.”

“You… You haven’t doubted your feelings?”

This time you raised an eyebrow at him. “Why would I? He’s easy to love.”

Jeonghan laughed. “You’re so right, Y/N. So. Is he your bias wrecker?”

“You mean the one that I want to date?”

“The very same.”

You saw the mischief in his eyes, and you felt yours bubble up inside. “I wonder.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised you cheat at games, you don’t seem like a great liar.”

“Who said I was trying to?” You flashed him a toothy grin.

“It’s rather strange to see just how different the two of you are. And also, how human you seem. The way that he talks about you, you’d think otherwise.”

“Unfortunately, being human is all I know,” you said, trying to shove down the feeling of butterflies in your stomach at the mention of Jihoon speaking of you to his precious brothers.

Bumzu was now giving a ment, but you were still so focused on the man next to you.

He crossed his legs and looked out at the stage. He pursed his lips. “Y/N. He’s a bit of a handful sometimes, you know.”

“I’ve got two hands.”

He smirked at that. “Right. That you do. And if you and I really are similar, then. Well. I hope you really listen to what he has to say to you, even if it can be hard to hear. I hope you try to understand him even when he doesn’t make sense. And, of course, I hope you enjoy the rest of your life loving him.”

You felt some tears well up in your eyes. “I’ll try my best.”

Jeonghan looked at you softly and patted your knee. “That’s all I ask.”

He stood up and you gave a slight bow. He smiled and said, “Enjoy the show.”

Bumzu’s voice rang out: “And now, a special guest: WOOZI from SEVENTEEN.”

Your eyes snapped back towards the stage, barely noticing the figure of your bias move back out into the shadows of the concert hall. You were transfixed by the man walking out on stage, his pale skin glowing underneath the stage lights, his black collared shirt hanging loosely on his frame. The cheers could not distract you from the way he gripped and ungripped the microphone in his hand as he sat down on the stool.

He lifted the microphone to his lips and began speaking.

“Hello, everyone. I am SEVENTEEN’s WOOZI.”

His eyes were darting around, but only looking downwards, barely looking at the crowd. “Today, I’m going to sing a song that I’ve only ever sang once. Um. And that was by myself, in my studio. Not even the other members have heard it.”

The crowd were wowed at the prospect of hearing an entirely new song from a genius producer. Seeing the spotlight shine on him, you realize how bare he looked without his other members surrounding him. His vulnerability was amplified by the closer proximity of the space.

You knew he was the kind of person that would lessen the amount of lines he had solely to allow others to shine more. He wasn’t like the sun, the blazing fire that consumed the day. No, he was so much more like the moon, the one that would reflect others’ light, but in such a way that was never accosting.

Even on the stage in front of you, he glowed so ethereally, you wondered if he was always the fae that you believed lived near the winding tree at Old Man Park’s home. He was the guiding light in the midst of night, always present, but in a less overt way than its celestial partner.

The sun was stunning in its own right, life-giving, even, but the moon provided comfort to those who tread in the darkness.

And you’ve seen the way he has done just that.

Not just for you, but for millions around the world.

“This is, uh. A very personal song,” you couldn’t help but notice the way that his grip around his microphone tightened. “I’m not sure if many of you out there have been unsure about what the future holds. But, this song… captures that, I think. This is ‘What Kind of Future’.”

Your reaction to grab your phone to record was immediately cut off by the piano playing.

This… melody?

Your throat tightened. It sounded so similar to the lullaby he would sing–

As if nothing happened I told myself that it was all a dream. When I closed my eyes and opened them again, I wanted to wake up with a relief.

The melody was so familiar, but because of that, you could focus solely on the lyrics he sang. 

Was this song… about you?

No, your mind supplied. Don’t be delusional.

But what if it was?

Your heart began to pound loudly in your ears, and you had to take deep breaths so as to not miss anything that he had to say.

Our past that didn't line up If I could go back in time Rather than roughly, but warmly Would I be able to let you go?

Your eyes widened.

You thought back to that moment in your house.

Could it be–?

When we weren't over As I held onto whatever was left You let go of me as I refused Although I don't wanna see you, I miss you Although I hate you, I miss you I don't understand myself so well

You immediately recall the desperation on his face and the hurt in his voice that you couldn’t see until it was too late. It was shrouded by his anger and your desire to look away. To run away. Because, to a teen on the cusp of adulthood, that was easier than being honest.

This waiting It's not easy to endure If I forget that someday As if nothing is wrong Our future will be empty and It's not that I want to forget you

You never wanted to forget him. 

You couldn’t.

He surrounded you at every turn.

The best parts of you were things that you learned from him.

He softened your rough edges, quieted the inner criticisms, pacified the burning flames.

The idea of him never being a part of your life again was one that you could not fathom, even with all of your imagination. Because there was no way for the current you to exist without him. Not in a way that deemed him necessary, but in a way that his friendship, his love, for you shaped you into becoming someone you, yourself, learned to love as well.

Your future might have been filled with joy and happiness.

His, just as likely to.

But yours and his, as he said, our future, would be empty.

We were happy about us You, who isn't me anymore Although I don't wanna see you, I miss you Although I hate you, I miss you I don't understand myself so well

You tried to quell your tears as much as you could, in fear of missing even another moment with him. Because you realize now that the feelings you had were not one-sided. Of course, they couldn’t have been. The way that the two of you stuck by each other through thick and thin.

Why were you so adamant that it couldn’t be true?

What kind of future is coming before us? Even if the Heavens don't give us an answer I'm too stupid until the end So I don't know the answer

The love you had for each other was so simple.

It was so direct, so straight-forward.

But the two of you made it complicated.

Why?

You also didn’t have an answer.

The both of you, burdened by the decisions of the past, anxious about the potential of the future.

As his vocals rang out, as he cried out, the tears finally streamed down your warm cheeks. You buried your face into your hands, listening to his voice, but unable to withstand the sight of him holding his microphone with such gentle, yet firm, hands. The same ones that trembled at his side that fateful day. Your breath staggered as you wept for the past versions of you.

The ones who struggled and constantly questioned whether you were loved by the person you longed for. The ones who somehow convinced themselves that you weren’t, rather than trusting in the obvious truth that you always had been.

And still are.

As the song concluded with his smooth vocals, the crowd erupted into cheers. You raised your head and found him looking longingly up in your direction, and if you weren’t mistaken, at you. 

But how could he? 

The stage lights were so bright, you were sure it was impossible to see beyond the stage.

But with the way his gaze softened as your bottom lip trembled.

Maybe, just maybe.

As soon as the crowd settled down to a reasonable level, he began speaking again. “Thank you all for attending tonight. Bumzu-hyung is an artist that I admire a lot, so I feel really honored that I was able to share my music here. This song is… both personal and special. And I hope that, maybe, someone out there can understand what I was trying to convey.

“Carats, thank you always for your support. Remember to stay healthy; I’m always wishing for your happiness. We hope that you continue to love and support SEVENTEEN. I’m always humbled by Carat’s love for us, and I really wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

He began to fiddle with the microphone in his hands. 

“Did you know that…” He trailed off for a moment before he glanced up in your direction. Your breath hitched. “...If you dream of fireflies, they’re supposed to represent guidance and inspiration? Because they’re kind of like a beacon of light in the dark. And according to some, they’re also meant to represent taking a chance at an opportunity that’s right in front of you. And I, uh. I’ve been dreaming of fireflies for a long time. So, I think… that means that it’s time to try and take that chance. I’m not sure what it’ll look like, but…”

He shut his eyes for a moment, tilting his head backwards, looking as though he was allowing the weight of his words to really sink into him. He brought the microphone back up to his lips.

“Thank you again. I hope our future together is one of happiness.”

He gave a slight bow to the audience who cheered loudly for him. He, once again, looked up in your direction. You weren’t sure whether he could see your expression, so instead you lifted your phone screen at its highest brightness, open to the phone dial screen.

If he gave any semblance of acknowledgement, it was imperceptible.

Bumzu was welcomed back to the stage and squeezed Jihoon’s shoulder before the latter excused himself off of the stage.

Almost possessed, you followed suit, leaving the upper gallery to rush towards the restroom, out of earshot and view of anyone else.

Not even a minute later, your phone starts vibrating.

You answer immediately. “That was fast.”

“We’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”

“Are you… running? You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“Meet me outside. Staff parking lot.”

“I–”

“Security cleared it out.”

“Jihoon, I’m not fit like you! I’m not a runner.”

“I’m not asking you to be. I’ll wait for you as long as you need.”

Your heart swelled. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’ll see you soon, firefly.”

The sound of his smile filled your senses as the call ended.

Despite your complaints earlier, your feet were carrying you at a pace you haven’t attempted since your required physical education class. Your eyes were darting around, searching, searching, searching. The adrenaline rushing through your body was enough to keep up your strides. You were rushing forward, and then–

You saw him.

He pushed his hair back, his chest rising up and down, attempting to catch his breath. He was definitely winded from the running. But there was no rest for the weary as your eyes locked. You found yourself barreling forward, not even really thinking of anything other than: him.

And his arms caught you with ease as you slammed yourself into his chest. He spun you around to lessen the impact, but tightened his grip on you. “Firefly–”

“Jihoonie.”

You held each other for a while.

Long enough for both of your breathing to even, for your heart rates to synchronize.

As though making up for lost time.

He adjusted his face just slightly away from the crook of your neck to speak. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want.”

“Yeah, well. I’m the driver, so no shit.”

Jihoon laughed and squeezed you closer to him. You let out a grunt. “You call the shots, firefly.”

You disentangled yourself from him and pulled out your car keys from your person. “Alright, get in, my passenger prince. Let’s take a trip down memory lane, hm?”

──────────────────

“Hi! My name is Y/N. Here’s a seashell!”

The young boy’s expression contorted into one of confusion. You were completely unaffected. He looked around at the empty playground, save for a few pigeons here and there, before pointing to himself. “Are you talking to me?”

You knew for a fact that he was someone that the CU convenience store auntie would call a ‘cutie’. You’d agree! “I’d like to!”

“I’m… I’m Lee Jihoon.”

“Okay, Jihoon! Can we be friends?”

“S-Sure.”

“Awesome!” You clapped your hands together. “I don’t really know what friends do together, but let’s go on the swings! You can sit first and I’ll push you. I’m very strong.”

“No, it’s okay! I can push you—”

“You don’t think I’m strong enough?”

“No, no. That’s not what I said—”

“Get on the swing, Lee Jihoon!”

“O-Okay.”

──────────────────

“Do you remember when I pushed you on the swing so hard that you lurched forward and got a nosebleed from falling onto your face?”

“That was the first day we met, firefly.”

“Well, I wanted to know if you remembered.”

“To the point that it haunts me.”

“You were so small and cute back then. So shy.”

You half expected that the two of you were going to drive in silence, just basking in each other’s presence. But, remaining true to the dynamic you two always had, there was still so much to talk about. You told him about the drive down from Seoul and how Busan really needed to up its driving laws to match the rest of the country. He told you about how Soonyoung just finished performing “Hurricane” on stage and Jeonghan sent him the video.

You told him about how Jeonghan actually approached you.

“Aha.”

You couldn’t turn to see his expression, so you asked, “Why? Is that a bad thing?”

“He, uh. Might’ve witnessed me have a bit of a mental breakdown backstage, so.”

You took his nervous laughter as a sign to not push further. “Honestly, me on any given Tuesday.”

“What, your grad program?”

“Oh, man, I gotta tell you.”

And so the two of you exchanged both stories and banter until you finally saw the shoreline coming into view. Just a couple of moments later, you parked your car along the sidewalk at the edge of the beach. This was a more local area, far away from tourist spots.

“Ah, this place.”

“Lotta memories here,” you said. You shot him a big smile as you turned off the engine. “Let’s go make a new one.”

The two of you exited your car and threw your socks and shoes into the trunk of your car, just like you did with his parents’ car, when you were children.

As you both walked towards the edge of the water, you were very aware of the silence that had fallen onto the two of you.

There was an instinct in you that told you to remain quiet.

“You know,” Jihoon broke the silence. You smiled to yourself. “I’ve always admired how you were able to be so honest about your feelings, without worrying about what other people think.”

“That’s the nice way of saying that I don’t think before I speak.”

He laughed and you relished in it. “Maybe.”

You skipped forward a bit more, letting your toes dig into the now cooled sand, the sun long set. You had your back turned to him as you waited for him to continue speaking.

“I was always someone who kept to himself. Who never really shared my heart with anyone.”

You hummed as you turned to face him directly. “You did in your own way, I think. You just needed people who knew how to read between the lines.”

“I was never honest about the hard stuff though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I constantly asked myself if I was worthy enough to love you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he continued.

“You loved me in such loud ways. You honestly left no room for doubt, and yet my brain managed to squeeze in some anyway. But… you know what I eventually realized?”

“What?”

“I realized that if I were to give myself to anyone, to be safe with anyone in the world, it would be okay if it was you. You’ve always been honest. Your sadness. Your joy. I know I can trust it. Maybe that’s naive considering how long we’ve spent apart. But you’ve never been anything but honest. So this is me trying to do the same. Y/N, my light, my firefly, I love you.”

In his eyes you saw him searching for something, anything. He might’ve not been able to interpret the expression on your face, but there was no need to. You pulled the collar of your shirt down to reveal the ink forever etched into your skin, placed over your heart.

Art that was drawn on a paper towel a decade ago.

You knew even in the dim light of the street lamps high above you, he could see it.

His jaw dropped. “Wait. That’s—”

“I broke one promise in my life. Just one. And I told myself I would never do it again. No matter how stupid the promises were, no matter how mundane, no matter how old they were. I would never break another promise. Because breaking that one promise ended up breaking me. The promise that I’d always be by your side.”

“What are you—?”

“Because it’s you, it’s always been you. Ever since I gave you that stupid seashell from this very beach,” you gestured at your surroundings. “And it was stupid because you could easily get your own, but you kept it. Like it was a precious treasure.”

The rampant beating in your chest matched the rhythm of your words.

“I don’t know what the future holds, Jihoon. I have no idea and I’m terrified. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know anything. Years at Yale, years at Seoul National, years spent in higher academia only taught me that I know so little. But you, oh, you were the worst reminder. I don’t get how you can make me feel so empty and filled at the same time. I don’t understand how you can make me feel at home with just a smile. I don’t know how you have such a hold on me. You’re just this strange enigma that I can’t seem to place, a riddle with no way to solve. But God, I so badly want to try. You’re a question I want to spend the rest of my life trying to answer. Because it’s you.”

He bit his lip and you wondered if you overwhelmed him.

“I’ve spent years, you know,” his voice barely above a whisper.

“Doing what?”

“Hoping that you would hear me. That my words would reach you,” he breathed out. His eyes softened as he recalled, “‘If a second life that’s different from now is to come to me, will I be by your side? Will you be by my side? I imagine things like this. Even if they’re words I mentioned as a joke. Will you believe me? Even if it’s a funny imagination. On a sudden day when I’m left alone, I’ll take my steps towards you again.’”

He stepped forward, hands reaching for yours, and you immediately took them, as soon as he was an arm’s length away. Physically, this wasn’t the closest he’s ever been, but it was the closest you’ve ever felt.

“‘You did this once before. Only by looking in your eyes I can tell. Whatever may happen, I want to know this emotion. When walking by my side, I don’t even want to let go of your hands. That flattering feeling is because of you, everything is so good.’”

He took another step forward, his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, hoping you could hear his words above his heart hammering in his chest.

“‘What can I do? Without you, my heart stops and it’s always cold. What can we do? Without me, you’ll struggle just as much, so what can we do?’” He paused, before recalling later lyrics. “‘I don’t wanna let you go like this. I don’t want to be scared with a broken heart. I’m the place you can come to. You’re the place I can go to.”

Tears formed in your eyes, but he brushed them away easily, now cupping your face within his hands, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, and you could have sworn he felt the fluttering of your eyelashes against him, dampened slightly by your watery eyes.

“‘I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young. I wanted to be your tomorrow, so I lived today. Ever since the first day I saw you. In my heart, it’s always been you. These typical words, I’m only saying them now, but I hope these typical words will reach you.’”

You looked at him, your entire being filled and your senses flooded.

With him.

It was only him, him, him.

How could you not have realized?

His words, his feelings were so clear.

He had the kind of love for you that brings forth a melody.

His gentle voice drew you away from your own thoughts, “Thank you, firefly. For choosing me.”

“Always, Jihoonie. Always.”

He leaned in to close the distance.

You met him halfway.

──────────────────

Your hands were intertwined with his as you swung them lightly, back and forth, ebbing and flowing, like the waves almost reaching your feet on the coastline of the local beach where you would laze away during your adolescence and find adventure during your childhood.

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, the sounds of the ocean and lull of the town around you, just basking in what felt like the stars finally aligning.

Jihoon squeezed your hand for a moment. “You know, I thought you left because you realized that I had feelings for you and didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, still not letting go of his hand, the sea breeze weaving itself between his and your hair.

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was pretty obvious. Hyung and noona thought the same. They figured it out pretty early on.”

“Um.”

He blinked. “You had no idea?”

“I—I thought you were in love with noona—”

“Hey, I might’ve thought she was pretty, but you were the one that turned that into something it wasn’t.”

“What! What about the times we went to try and find out whether the mini golf place was fun enough for a date idea? Or whether the food stand near the beach was romantic enough?”

“Please tell me you’re hearing yourself.”

“I’m—”

“Jesus, firefly. Are you serious? Did I end up ever taking her there? Did I even try? All of those places, all of those times, those were meant for you. You were the one who kept bringing up noona and what she would like while I was trying to figure out whether it would’ve been weird to reach out and hold your hand.” His grip tightened on yours.

You flushed at that. “Okay, but like—you spent so much time with noona before I left.”

“Because she was trying to help me plan something to get it through your thick skull just how in love I was because obviously none of the other things I did was enough.”

“I—you—she’s better than me.”

“I just confessed that I was in love with you, and you’re focusing on her right now?”

You blabbered out incoherent sounds and he merely laughed in your face at your reaction.

(Or maybe at himself.)

“Dozens of songs of writing my feelings for you into the lyrics, and you still didn’t get it. So. I’ll try and say it as clearly as possible. I love you, Y/N. What can I do to get you to notice me? Because I’ll do it, firefly. I swear I will.”

You bit your lip.

“I got my driver’s license.”

He wasn’t expecting that. “Uh… recently?”

“No. A month after you left, a month before I did. I got my driver’s license and I so badly wanted to call you to tell you. Because we talked about late night diner specials and how uncrowded the park was at six in the morning and you said I’d be your chauffeur forever.”

“Yeah, why should I have to learn?”

“Jihoon.”

“I’m doing alright without one, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes, but continued, “I drove around the neighborhood several times, passing by the mailboxes we used to Sharpie, the stop signs we tried to run up and slap, the sidewalks we crossed after hagwon, the sewer where we were convinced a clown lived.”

“That was a you thing, don’t drag me into it.”

“And I realized that none of it mattered if you weren’t in the passenger seat.”

“So, what are you saying? That I’m just good company?”

You eyed him and knew he was teasing, but there was a hint of insecurity underneath it. Because he said those words you had yet to acknowledge, let alone, respond to. The corner of your lips upturned. “Yeah, that’s it. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to be in said company for at least one lifetime. I love you, Lee Jihoon.”

“You’re missing the ‘too,’ since I said it first.”

“You’re annoying.”

“It’s been one of the only ways to get you to look at me, firefly.”

“Mm. I’m always looking.”

“Respectfully?”

“Most times. Have you seen the ‘Good to Me’ choreo?”

He bumped your shoulder as you burst into a fit of giggles, choosing to let go of his hand to wrap your arms around his waist as he pretended to stomp off. He stuck his tongue out at you, calling you a pervert, and you said, “Hey, you’re the one that’s in love with me, alright?”

He swept you up into his arms and rather than carrying you princess-style or even in a piggy-back ride, he threw you over his shoulder and you yelped loudly. 

“Jihoon!”

“Y/N!”

“Let me go!”

“Nope. Never again.”

You made a gagging noise. Who is this shameless kid?

“I’ll put you down though, my shoulder hurts.”

You smacked it once you were on your own two feet and ran as much as you could with the weight of your feet sinking into the wet sand with each step. He quickly closed the distance between the two of you and tackled you to the ground. You fell back, with his hand behind your head, ensuring no damage to your person. You giggled up at him.

The edge of the waves were mere centimeters from you, but seeing him against the endless night sky, with glittering stars, him, your moon, you could not bring yourself to care.

You had so many questions you wanted to ask him, about his life as an idol, about his pursuits and his struggles and his hopes and his dreams. You were so excited to fall in love with him again. You hoped that he would be just as excited to love the person that you’ve become, the one that is so wholly you, but has been transformed by him.

Leaving things left unsaid was a burden the two of you beared for far too many years, believing that you deserved the painful yearning of each other, to make up for the choices made as teenagers.

You breathed in the salt of the sea, as you thought about how, years ago, you were in the same city, letting this very person walk away from you. Shame washed over you, as it has for years, like the waves that were ebbing and flowing right beside you, and tears began to form in your eyes. It was almost embarrassing, how easily you let him slip away. He deserved so much.

“I’m a lot,” you choked out.

He smiled softly as he cupped your face gently, not moving to brush away tears that were threatening to fall. He simply held you, wordlessly accepting all that you were.

“Never too much, and always enough, firefly.”

You wanted to thank whatever higher power was out there.

Whatever one compelled Jihoon to search your Instagram page and accidentally like a post from years ago, a notification that could have been swiped away accidentally in the middle of the night by a bleary-eyed and half-awake you.

Because what kind of future would’ve come otherwise?

Would you have reconnected in some other way, more purposeful and intentional?

Or would you have convinced yourselves that living apart was something that was inevitable and it was better to have simply let the past be the past?

Or would you have yearned for each other in ways that even the potential of running into each other would lead to an eruption of nerves?

You breathed in slowly as you wrapped your arms around his middle, breathing him in, letting his heartbeat drown out even the sound of the crashing ocean beside you.

It didn’t really matter.

This future will be one that you build.

Together.

[끝.]

[vroomvroomcircuit]

The World did not end

(A/N): 'ello and welcome to my first F1 fic. I'm quite new here (not to fanfic or tumblr, I mean F1), but I want to give back to the F1 community, since you all helped me out tons during a really rough period these last couple of months.

Pairing: Lando Norris x platonic!reader

Warnings: mentions eating food, death of a loved family member, grief, it sounds sad, but it's actually pretty sweet and hopeful (it's based on a tiktok trend), English is not my first language btw

Wordcount: .7k (she is a shorty)

Masterlist ______________

Finding Mclaren’s reserve driver crying in the cafeteria wasn’t what Lando expected to stumble upon, when I went to check out where the repeating music came from. It sounded like a sad song that could land a high spot on his next Spotify wrapped.

“Uhm, (Y/N), what’s wrong?” he asks gently as he approaches the table. After a startle she turns off her phone, which has been playing the music. Frantically, she wipes her tears. It still does nothing against the fact that she has been crying and that her blood shot eyes are very visible.

Lando shakes his head. When people think Oscar is an introverted person, she is the masterclass of introvertedness. Like, the last stage of a pokémon evolution. That’s why seeing (Y/N) cry in a semi public place like the cafeteria calls for concern.

“There has to be something. The food here is not that bad. I mean, I have the same reaction when I see fish being served, too. But today I felt like the meals were rather good. So do tell. What’s bothering you?”

First she shrugs, the twenty year old not being able to find her voice immediately. “The- the world didn’t end when I was 13.” The tears are coming back again, restricting her voice once again.

Lando gathers her into his arms. even though he doesn’t understand what is happening at all. Does that matter right now, though?

The girl needs another minute or two until she is composed enough to explain the reason behind her crying. “There is this Tiktok trend going viral right now. It’s about people saying what mundane things they are able to do, or-or which things they have achieved, and all that because the world did not end when they were a certain age. They mean they got through some heavy event in their life. And because they got through this, they are able to do said things or achieve this.”

He nods, understanding the bittersweet and hopeful outlook this kind of videos can bring. “And something heavy happened to you at 13?” He probes while trying to keep a cautious tone, not wanting to overstep any boundary he doesn’t see.

“My, you see, when I was 13, my grandmother died. This was the first time I felt real grief. I wished for the world to end, because nothingness would have felt better than this immense amount of grief. And this led me to thinking of how many times I wished for the world to end. Because there were important and life changing events approaching me so quickly. When the world ends, I wouldn’t have to go through them, right?

And suddenly I’m 18, writing my final exams in school and it felt like the biggest task in my life. it felt like make or break. But the world did not end. I was able to graduate.

Then I got into the drivers academy, I am training, studying, and meeting people. I’m doing everything and anything. Because the world did not end when I was 13.

And it didn’t end when I was 16, overwhelmed with studying for school. It also did not happen when I was 19 and put under contract to be a reserve driver for Mclaren.

The world never ended. I begged and cried for all of this to stop. To have peace. Because I thought that I would only feel at peace, when nothing happens anymore. And the world didn’t end and now I sit here with you, talking about a tiktok trend.”

Lando understands her train of thought and sentiment immediately. “You know, I’m happy it didn’t end. These past couple of months with you here were pretty fun. Even Oscar admits it! With that true little smile, not in that monotone tone of his. These interviews and the media stuff is much more fun with these silly remarks of yours. And you are an amazing human being. I’m really glad that your world did not end, because meeting you made mine better.”

(Y/N) laughs, the tears being gone and cheeks heating up at that confession. “I’m glad too. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to ravish my way through the mountain of pasta minutes before you came in.” They giggle, knowing they share similar food preferences and have the culinary plate of a four year old toddler.

And all that, because the world did not end.

[askagamedev]

recently a Ubisoft exec apparently said that customers would have to get used to not owning their games for streaming and game services like game pass to really take off. What’s your take on that? Are we really headed to a place where none of us own our games anymore and we just rent them? If we buy games digitally do we actually own them? Can the rights to those games be taken away even after we paid for them?

As with most things, it's good to take the time to understand the nuance of what was said. The Ubisoft person doing the speaking was Philippe Tremblay and he is Director of Subscriptions at Ubisoft. In [the article], he was specifically talking about the mental shift that needs to happen in order for a subscription business model in games to really take hold, because game subscription services are really still in their early stages. Realistically speaking, subscriptions have one of two possible futures - an eventual plateau where subscriptions reach sustainability and equilibrium or an eventual crash because they couldn't.

Look at digital music streaming services like Spotify. They have largely reached their plateau as a massive chunk of the music market. There are still people who buy physical albums, but they are in the minority. The majority of music consumers tend to listen to their music via streaming services and have gotten used to not owning their music. This is one possible future for video games.

Let's contrast this with the current state of movie and tv streaming services. There's a huge number of streaming customers, but there are still strong physical media sales because the streaming services can't necessarily keep the shows and films the people want due to licensing issues. When this kind of volatility in the availability of the product is commonplace, it upsets the user base and puts them off of staying as subscribers. This is another possible future for video games.

As for buying games digitally and "owning" them... well, not really? Like... we've known for ages that end of service for live games is the end of the road, barring player-run grey shards and the like. There are many MMOG, MOBA, looter shooter, mobile, etc. games that have been shut down permanently. Some kinds of games are inherently ownable and some are not.

As player, it is largely up to us to decide what kind of games we want to support. Playing with a regular group of friends in a live service game is a huge amount of fun but absolutely not conducive to owning the game. Playing a single-player game by myself at my leisure is much more conducive to ownership, but I lose out on content updates and the camaraderie of playing with friends. It is my belief that we should all support the things we value. There are no solutions, only tradeoffs.

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Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[stormblessed95]

I have a question

Like Crazy is probably the most queercoded in Jimins songs, right after Filter.

But the song also begins with the pronoun "She's saying Baby come and follow me"

Some fans on Twitter are saying this is a reference to a gf or something.

Whats your take on this?

Hi! Thanks for your ask. Sorry for the delay in replying! And to start, I think it's fairly clear that I don't think Jimin is straight, in my opinion, based off my views. But in that same vein, I think he also likes women. I mean, he has shared previous school crushes on a girl with us. So a "she" in the lyrics of a love song, wouldn't ever really throw me off personally. But that's just me. On top of that, Jimin did share his notes of his lyric writing process for his songs on FACE. And we can see for Like Crazy, his original planned lyrics said "baby" in place of "she." So that probably got changed for a better flow, either he did that himself, or it was suggested to him by RM, Pdogg or one of the other people who helped and gave input to the song. Either way, I don't think it's indicative of a girlfriend or an ex girlfriend in anything factual. But everyone can think what they will and have their own opinions of it for sure.

Now, for me, honestly there is a lot of queer coding through this whole MV and through subsequent performances/choreo/promotions for this song as well. Lyric breakdown can be found here before we go further:

Music Video:

And my first post about Like Crazy, where I talk about the song as a whole, what I think it's about AND touch on the queerness of Jimins gender expression throughout the MV:

To expand upon that, the choreo is a huge part of that and this person did a pretty good job breaking that down and sharing their theory over the dance too.

On top of in the extra content for FACE, similar references get lowkey pointed out in the FACE Playlist video, both in the LC MV and the Playlist video. Which you can watch here

During the Set Me Free portion, things line up very similarly to Freddie's "I want to break free" video, where he cross dresses. And for those who don't know, he fairly openly queer as an artist. He was involved with both men and women regardless of never openly stating or confirming his sexuality (that I know of). In the video, we also see Jimin looking through vinyls, including Queen and Nirvana. AND in the LC MV set, we see on the wall writing that says "Set Me Free" "Moon" "Wake" among others AND a Queen sticker too.

I want to break free video:

He talks and makes references to accepting both sides of himself a lot. It's in his stylistic choices, his art, how he expresses himself. And it's been a repeated theme for AWHILE now and if you aren't seeing it... it's because you don't want to

To get deeper into it, some of the historic queer imagery and iconography Jimin used in this MV specifically and just in FACE promotions in general... would include Philip Johnson, the architect of the Glass House, openly gay and where the term "the glass closet" was coined from. A photo of his is once again in the FACE Playlist video.

Robert Mapplethorpe, his portrait on the jeans Jimin wore through the MV and several images in his photobook I believe too. A photographer specializing in male and female nude works, among other things. Including his most controversial work being his documentation of the gay male BDSM subculture scene.

In the photobook, he is pictured several times in an outfit where he is wearing Jean Paul Gaultier y/series Bodymorph jeans. Specifically he is wearing the "woman" set. The designer Specifically described this series as exploring and playing with the concepts of gender, he liked the idea of there being a mens set, and a womens set and them being able to overlap each other. The bodymorph clothing sets have naked human body prints on them. So!Yoon who recently worked with and is friends with RM (if not friendly with the other members too) also recently wore these in her album release as well. You can interpret him wearing these as you choose of course. I personally think it's speaks fairly clearly to the same things I was talking about above, with him referencing all things gender and how he is leaning into the more typical feminine iconography here with these pants for his softer side of the photoshoot for his album.

I think looking at the designs for both sets also makes it more clear which ahem, set, Jimin is wearing too. Lol and how some of the models are mixing the sets (including So!Yoon wearing the women's set as well in a diff color)

And lastly, while it might not have to do with the album directly, it does involve Jimin and is worth mentioning here as it was lowkey part of album promotions. During the first ever performance aired of Like Crazy on the Jimin Fallon show, Jimin worked with 8 backup dancers and one of them was nonbinary and shared their experience and how comfortable, welcoming, non judged and appreciated Jimin and staff made them feel the whole time. How they got to just be who they were the whole time. It speaks the type of environment Jimin cultivates around himself all the time.

Performance video:

And during the teaser that was shared of Jimin working on his album with Pdogg and others. They talked about how for 10 months, Jimin basically lived in Pdoggs house. They all just lived together and ate, slept, breathed this album. Lol and in the hallway of Pdogg's house, we see that he has a Stonewall rainbow art piece. Which if that is what that is, is very special to have the education over Stonewall and the support of for that in your home in Korea. I won't speak to it either way, if that is what it is, great. If it's not. I'm just going to enjoy a rainbow in the same shot as Jimin regardless. Lol

Teaser video:

At this point, there is deep references to historic queer iconography in so much of Jimins art, it's fair to say we aren't guessing anymore. He is as out as he can be without explicitly saying anything. For me personally at least. And no one is owed an explicit coming out from anyone for any reason. If you listen to what he says, what he sings about, what he photographs, what he dances, what he shares with us? It's all right there too see. So plainly. Queer people have always had to talk and listen between the lines. It's there if you want to see it. And it's fair for queer armys and queer people to react and talk about the continuous use of queer icons and imagery Jimin has used over the years. It's not assuming anything. It's just listening to what he is telling us and sharing.

Thank you for the ask. And thanks to anyone who read the whole thing. 💜

[sleepanonymous]

Hi! I hope you don't mind, but I would like to ask your input on something, since you post a lot of "lost media" stuff. Do you know what the general etiquette for talking about members' past bands/projects in public spaces?

Here's the thing: I only discovered Sleep Token a few months ago, and when I first listened, I was shocked to recognize Vessel's voice immediately. Apparently I've actually been listening to one of his old projects for like 8 years now 😭 It's lovely to know he's still making music and it's wonderful to see how he's progressed with his skills (his voice!! Oh my god, he's grown so much), but I can't help but feel a little sad because I'm worried I'll be shunned if I mention his old works around ST fans. What has your experience been with this sort of thing? I just don't want to start a fuss on accident.

Hi, Anon 🖤 I don't mind at all, thanks for the question. With the anonymity of Sleep Token, it's very tricky to talk about any of the band's past projects in fan spaces. Basic etiquette is to not mention them at all because of the names and faces associated with the projects. For that reason, the rest of this answer is going below a "keep reading" cut.

If you are a Sleep Token fan, and don't want to see past project names, do not click on "Keep Reading."

First off: Anon, I'm so jealous of you! Lol, I'm surprised you found Blacklit Canopy first, that's such a rarity in this fandom! You have no idea how many times I'm like "Where was I in 2012?! Why didn't I find this in 2014?!"

Secondly, my whole experience with this particular corner of the fandom has been lovely tbh. But I think I get away with posting "lost media" because I make sure to keep names/YouTube/anything identifying detached from the posts. I only ever refer to him as Ves (and not his full stage name) and I don't mention Sleep Token (or if I do I abbreviate to ST). I think the closest I ever got to mentioning Ves's past project actually was in this lost media post.

Another reason I think a lot of fans would consider it improper to mention Ves's old project is because the relationship he was in with the other half of Blacklit Canopy technically changes 70-80% of Sleep Token's songs. The intricate lore that fans have created is suddenly lost, and we're left with roughly three albums about "the girl that got away" and how Ves coped with it. That isn't inherently a bad thing, but I understand why it's not everyone's cup of tea. Since you're new to Sleep Token, I'm going to assume you haven't seen these interviews: about why the member's identities "don't matter" and what Sleep Token's goal is as a band.

I have seen people make posts about Blacklit Canopy here on Tumblr before without receiving backlash (at least outwardly), but that's only because it was in a similar manner to this post (the majority of it was under a "read more" cut), they kept the band names separate in the tags i.e. they didn't tag Sleep Token, and didn't mention Ves's name at all. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I've seen posts literally stating "It is disrespectful to listen to Ves's old music," which I don't agree with. One: there's an entire other person involved. Two: if Ves didn't want his fans to know, why are the Blacklit Canopy YouTube channel and Twitter accounts still up? And three: they literally released a deluxe EP on Spotify at the beginning of the year which Ves is 100% aware of and signed off on, if it wasn't him who published it in the first place. I'm not here to tell fans what they're feeling is wrong— on either end of the spectrum— because I understand where they are coming from and why they might feel that way.

All of the above said, there are safe fan spaces where it's perfectly acceptable to mention both Sleep Token and Blacklit Canopy in the same sentence; even identities. That goes for all Sleep Token members, past and present, and their other projects. So if you were wanting to keep them a mystery, then I'm sadly out of suggestions aside from DMs maybe. There are more people on this site Who Know™️ than you might think.

On Reddit you have both r/BlacklitCanopy and r/SleepTokenTheory

On Facebook you have the Blacklit Canopy Fans page

On Discord there's discord.gg/blacklitcanopy

I'm not so active on Reddit, and I don't have Facebook, so I'm very biased toward option three I'm also an admin there.

[chobani-flip]

so... I've been tagged by @newtkelly (WHO HAS A WIP IN THE WORKS WHICH IS GONNA BE SO AWESOME OMG GO READ ALL THE FICS I LOOOOOOVE) and @alchemistc (THE AMAZING ALCHEMISTIC MAGE OF AWESOME WRITERY POWERS WHO WRITES TRULY EXCELLENT FICS ????DAILY????? GO READ) to put my music on shuffle & list the first 10 songs + tag 10 people

but

the thing is... i... kinda don't listen to music? 👀👀👀 i know, i know, believe me.

like, i am not an alien, i have heard music before, but i don't go out of my way to listen to music in my regular day to day life.

so rather than just not taking part, or trying hard to come up with songs i really love a lot (which, they totally exist! but i can never think of one until i hear it on the radio or in a shop or as background song on a show or something) im gonna tell you about the audiobooks i found really fucking cool and my one podcast i adore:

the podcast AKA the only reason i have spotify on my laptop :

Ridiculous Crime (iHeartRadio) -

Zaron Burnett and Elizabeth Dutton talk about "outlandish capers, heists and cons" to "shine a light on the absurd side of criminality". "Always 99% murder-free and 100% ridiculous". i adore this podcast so fucking much, i am willing to 15sec+ manually skip the embedded ads that appear in LOOOONG chunks at the start, at the 20 minute mark, at the 40 minute mark and at the end of the episodes. also, Elizabeth Dutton is a 911 fan and she's the one whose endorsement finally made me decide to give the show another try. like, srsly, if you've gone off true crime because while you enjoy listening to RL stories and mysteries but all the sensationalizing of brutal crimes just got too much made it impossible to consume? THIS IS THE PODCAST FOR YOU (just srsly, skip the ads, they're fucking annoying

⬆is one of my favourite episodes

the audiobooks:

Vital Organs - Suzie Edge

this is a book full of extremely interesting stories from history connected to various bodyparts.

this is the tagline: From Napoleon's penis to Van Gogh's ear, from Marie Antoinette's teeth to Marie Curie's bone marrow, this book brings together the remarkable stories of body parts that have made history. and you might get the impression that it's going to be a bunch of kings and queens and famous people from that (and like yeah, they're there obviously) but there are so many fascinating stories about people you've never heard of? it's really cool. the one that really stuck with me was about the creator of the Braille writing system, Louis Braille.

Ask A Historian: 50 Surprising Answers To Things You Always Wanted To Know - Greg Jenner

(he also has a podcast, my friend loves it - that's how i found out about the book - but i have space for only one podcast in my heart)

abso-fucking-lutely excellent and interesting and hilarious. remember the tumblr post about the corpse pope put on trial? well, that one was one of the questions Greg Jenner got asked and he talks about the Cadaver Synod in great detail. Mansa Musa, ever heard of him? No? well, google the name and you'll be just as outraged as i was when you realise just how massive and influential he and his Mali Empire was and how your (generally really good) history classes and textbooks never fucking mentioned him. you'll also find out when the first monday was, and why the devil is a goat, and what the Flintstones ot right about Stone Age

A Curious History of Sex - Kate Lister

(also has a podcast apparently, but like i said i can only manage one)

It's a really really cool and interesting book 😁 here's the tagline:

This is not a comprehensive study of every sexual quirk, kink and ritual across all cultures throughout time, as that would entail writing an encyclopaedia. Rather, this is a drop in the ocean, a paddle in the shallow end of sex history, but I hope you will get pleasantly wet nonetheless.

Savage Appetites: Four True Stories of Women, Crime and Obsession - Rachel Monroe

so this isn't true crime, but it's about true crime, it explores why people, and women especially, are fascinated by it. it's not particularly accusatory or judgemental since the author is interrogating her own fascination, but it doesn't shy away from the nastier implications and sides of being enthralled by true crime.

honestly, this describes it really well: Combining personal narrative, reportage, and a sociological examination of violence and media in the 20th and 21st centuries, Savage Appetites is a "corrective to the genre it interrogates" (The New Statesman), scrupulously exploring empathy, justice, and the persistent appeal of crime.

currently listening to: Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlansky

did you know that the word salacious comes from salt? because people believed that salt made you horny and virile? and also that it protected you from evil spirits so in some places in the world (like France and others) in the middle ages, infants would be bathed in brine and salted before a baptism? and that salad is a salad and also from salt because the Romans loved to salt their assorted veggies, when they weren't making garum, the salty stinky fermented fishsauce? AND THAT SOLDIER IS A SOLDIER BECAUSE IN SOME PARTS THEY USED TO BE PAID IN SALT AND SOL AND SALT AND AAAAA i love it so much

ok 🤣 im done. now, i am aware that this was very much not the assignment if the assignment was getting recommendations for music, but if the assignment was finding out more about the person behind the blog, well, here you are 😁 these are the things i find cool and interesting

__

no pressure tagging: @wakeupnew @tiltingheartand @26-cats-in-a-trenchcoat

@kinard-buckley @bugboybuck @mistmarauder

@jackmichaela @do-androids-dream-ao3acc @so-that-was-okay

@apartmentsmoke

[heavenwithgyu]

locked in heaven

pairing: vernon x gn!reader (mentions reader wearing skirt once when describing the outfit somewhat but other than that nothing else!)

genre: fluff !

a/n i got this idea from tiktok lol ! i used filters to come up with the premise (forced proximity and vernon) and the rest was just me so :P also costume party bc halloween is so close and idk how long i’ll keep this writing spree !! i havent written this much in so long its crazy :)) i took the songs mentioned from seungkwans playlist on spotify so its songs he actually listens to and i absolutely adore ftisland so seeing them on there made me so happy

proofread: sorta, tumblr deleted part of my draft so i had to rewrite some which i didn’t reread

warnings: seungkwan says an suggestive joke accidentally, reader repeats it, brief mentions of drinking (reader doesnt and neither does vernon) uhhh kiss/makeout scene

Seungkwan had finally convinced you to go to one of his halloween parties, when he first asked you about it a couple of years ago, you weren’t as close so you said no.

The year after when he asked, you had already agreed to going to another friends party so you had to decline, treating him to lunch because of how petty he was afterwards. Any time you would ask to hang out a few days after the party, he would be telling you to go ask your other friends before you finally caved and told him you’d pay for him. He agreed.

This year he had asked you before your other friend even began planning theirs, spurring you on with the idea that Vernon would be there. Seungkwan knew you had the fattest fucking crush on him and who were you to say no to being at a party with your crush?

It gave you the chance to get to know him better, so you agreed, telling him you had no idea what to be. He had given you the idea to be an angel, said the halo and wings would look good on you.

You should’ve suspected the reason why he instantly knew what you should be but you didn’t, which is why when Seungkwan pulled up to your house just as you had finished getting ready, Vernon following behind him and dressed as the devil, you knew you were in for one tonight.

“Oh you guys are matching! How cute!” Seungkwan mused once he got inside, Vernon’s eyes locked onto your outfit, his face unreadable as traced up from your white skirt to the halo that you had gotten on your head with a headband and a piece of wire.

“Don’t go corrupting them!” Seungkwan scolded playfully, slight shock overrided you at his words and then he seemed to realize what he said. “Oh, not like that, oh I could’ve worded that better,” he said, his hand covering his mouth and you were giggling, walking over to the other man.

A smile on your lips as you looked at him, his eyes pouring into yours. “You heard him, don’t go corrupting me,” you repeated, his eyes widening while Seungkwan was telling you to shut up, obviously annoyed with you spurring on his misspeak.

Another giggle left you while Seungkwan was pushing you out of your house, Vernon following the two of you out and shutting your door since you were being pushed all the way to Seungkwan’s car. He was scolding you the entire time, saying how it’s not nice to make fun of mistakes, that he is soo nice to you all the time and you treat him like this.

You got into the back seat, letting Vernon have the front seat since he had been sitting there on the way to your house so all his stuff was still up there. Seungkwan was still going on about how he had done so many things for you when Vernon was getting into the car, a laugh slipping out of his lips when he realized that.

Vernon put on some music to shut him up, Seungkwan not protesting since he enjoyed the song that was on, singing along to it immediately while beginning to drive to his house so he could get the party ready.

You knew it wouldn’t rake him long, he probably had most of it set up already and just had to do a few finishing touches like scattered decorations or something of the sorts. You began humming along to Take Me Now by FTISLAND, surprised since the song that had last played was one by Harry Styles.

He didn’t live that far away from you so it didn’t take long to get to your house, the next song started to play as he pulled up. He sighed as he turned off he car, normally if he liked the song enough, he would wait until it finishes to leave but he didn’t have the time to.

You all got out, holding your bag close to you since you had never gone to one of his parties before, you were close with all the guys but it would be more than just them there. Seungkwan asked you to help him put silly stickers around, one’s that were fake blood and had writing that said ‘help me’, and stuff like that.

You were reaching up to put one of the stickers where he told you, up close to the ceiling for some god awful reason, but you couldn’t quite get it there. You looked around for something to stand on, just to give yourself an extra inch or two because you knew Seungkwan would be picky.

“Here, I got it,” Vernon’s voice suddenly said from next to you, carefully grazing your fingers to take the sticker from you, sticking it where he saw Seungkwan tell you to.

You muttered a quick thank you, feeling your fingers buzz from the gesture, it was small, it was nothing, you knew you shouldn’t be this flustered over it, but it was him, you couldn’t help yourself.

A few of the others began to come in, Minghao was dressed as a cowboy, boots and all, a smile gracing your lips at the sight because he looked funny. “Howdy partner!” you called to him, he grumbled, Seungkwan coming over and laughing.

“Seokmin and I made a bet, I lost,” is all Minghao said before he was off into the kitchen, presumably looking for the alcohol to start the night off early. He was ticked off from what it seemed, he hated losing bets, he was a competitive person by all means.

Seokmin followed in after him quickly, absolutely beaming with pride while he was dressed up as Pennywise. “Did you guys see him?” he asked, a slight giggle in his voice and Seungkwan was quietly telling him he was a genius and that he should win bets more often.

Minghao came back out with a cup in his hand, a glare sent to the two who were giggling, Seungkwan instantly trying to find something to pull him out of his situation. “Oh, uhm, Vernon! Help me with the rest of these?” he seemed to have settled on continuing to decorate, holding up the pack.

You glanced at the boy who was still beside you, him blinking a couple times while looking at Seungkwan, “Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” He walked over to the other, grabbing some and walking off to go put them places, not even waiting for Seungkwan to direct him.

A hum left you as you walked over to Hao, letting him complain about how Seokmin most definitely cheated somehow, just to see him wear this. He was planning on being Jack Skellington and had the makeup for him down but he just had to lose the bet, which he wouldn’t tell you about.

He brushed off the question both times you asked, so you just assumed he was holding onto the little bits of dignity he had left. “Y’know, you look like Woody from Toy Story,” you snickered after you looked at his outfit more, a loud sigh coming from him and then he was taking a swig of his cup.

“Whatever,” he muttered, walking off as more people began to file into the house, Seungkwan setting off towards where people weren’t to finish up and make it look like it wasn’t last minute.

You found yourself in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, surprised Seungkwan even had them in his fridge at a party to begin with, but you were grateful nonetheless. Sipping it as you walked out towards where the party had seemed to come alive spontaneously, music, people, everything.

While it wasn’t a lot of people, it was still people, you decided to walk around until you at least found someone you knew in the slightest, seeing Chan dressed as fucking Pikachu, no way.

You sat down next to him, holding in a laugh when he meets your eyes because he can see that little glint meaning you were going to make tease him for his outfit, a quick “Hey Chan—”

He quickly cut you off, “I don’t want to hear it,” him sighing right after and leaning his head back against the couch, sulking through his yellow face paint.

From the way he is sitting, you can tell he also painted his neck which causes a laugh to fall from you finally, him turning his head to face away from you at the sound, his nose scrunching.

You reached over and flicked one of his ears to his hoodie, giggling out “You look so cute~ Makes me wish I had a pokeball to—”

“I get it! Pikachu is funny,” He exclaims, making sure you didn’t get to actually make fun of him, which sucks the fun out of him being dressed like this.

A hum and you’re telling him goodbye, making sure to call him Pikachu instead of Chan which causes him to sulk more, walking off to go find someone you knew.

You wanted to find someone who was relatively alone because everyone who you were finding seemed to be very invested in their conversations would means you wouldn’t be spared the time of day.

Another swig of your water bottle as you finally settled on just roaming around, walking through the hallway and peeking into open rooms to find anyone who wasn’t caught up in something— or someone like Gyu was. He must’ve forgotten to shut the door or something because as you peeked your head in, you saw him making out with someone.

A sight you wished you could forget but also you were glad to see because at least he hadn’t gotten any further than that.

You got into a slightly deserted part of the hallway, leaning against the wall and pulling out your phone, trying to pass the time without getting super bored in the process.

You brought your hand up to open your water but a hand grabbed your wrist instead, looking up to see Seungkwan excitedly telling you, “We’re playing a game! C’mon.”

You didn’t protest, letting him lead you to a room that held a random people from the party, a couple of the boys, and Vernon. You quickly realized what they were playing, Spin The Bottle, at least you assumed with how everyone was sitting in a circle.

The thought of Vernon spinning the bottle and landing on someone else, kissing someone else right in front of you immediately crossed your mind.

You almost told Seungkwan that you didn’t want to play and left. Almost. The little devil on your shoulder was telling you all the possibilities if Vernon spun the bottle and it landed on you, that he would be kissing you.

So you sat down, all logic thrown out the window because there had to be at least 15 people and the chances of him landing on you out of 14? Slim. Close to none.

But there was a chance.

Seungkwan set a bottle in the middle, staying there, “So we all know what this is right?” he asked, a few people shaking their heads to where he was sighing, “It’s a combination of Spin The Bottle and Seven Minutes In Heaven, makes it more fun that way.”

Oh.

Your eyes wanted to look at Vernon, to see his reaction, though you were sure he already knew that since Seungkwan probably told him before he gathered people so your eyes stayed on Seungkwan.

“Who wants to go first?” he asked, his hand still on the bottle, and for some god forsaken reason, Vernon was saying he would.

Your stomach felt like it was in knots as his hand reached for the bottle, his eyes locking with yours before he was glancing around the circle. For some reason, your breath stopped, did he want to land on you?

No.

No you were sat across from him, of course he’d look at you right now, he would’ve looked at whoever was in your spot.

After what felt like an eternity, he spun it, your eyes staring intensely at it as you prayed to every possible God you could think of to have it land on you. You were an angel, they had to help you in your time of need.

The bottle began to slow, your nails wanting to dig into your palms but you tried to act like you didn’t care who it landed on, that the idea of him kissing someone else didn’t make your heart sting.

Because why would it land on you?

You were 1 out of 14, it was stupid chances and you should’ve never played and you wanted to look away to save yourself the disappointment whenever it stopped at— you.

It stopped at you.

Your eyes met Vernon’s, relief faintly on his features but you told yourself that you were imagining it, that he was just glad to have gotten someone he knows.

Why would he want to kiss you? He wouldn’t, he would’ve done it already if he did, there’s no way he wanted to be trapped in a closet with your for seven long minutes.

You were pulled, literally, out of your thoughts by Seungkwan tugging you to stand, Vernon’s arm in his other hand as he was leading you two to a door. You knew this door, this door led to a bathroom would led to another room which wasn’t frequented.

Gulping as Seungkwan pushed you into the other room, smiling at both of you with an evil grin, “See you two in seven minutes~” His voice was sickly sweet and you wanted to pass out when he closed the door.

It was you two, in a room. Alone. At least you weren’t pressed against each other in some tight closet.

“Have you, uhm, have you had your first kiss?” Vernon’s voice suddenly speaks but its quiet, you almost miss it, but you don’t because how could you miss his voice? Your eyes meet his, his hold worry.

You decide to tease him, “No, wanna be my first?” you ask nonchalantly, his eyes widen to comical levels while he’s opening his mouth to say something, shutting it right after. “I’m just kidding, Nonie, I’ve kissed people,” you tell him after a few seconds, walking over and for some reason, putting your hand on his arm.

You tell yourself it’s to help him relax but it’s most definitely just to feel his skin on yours even in the slightest way. “That was a terrible opener by the way,” more teasing leaves you, your hand also leaving him, you miss the way his fingers twitch as he wants to touch you instead.

He laughs softly, nodding, “Yeah, couldn’t think of anything better and the only thing on my mind was kissing so—” He cuts his sentence off short, seemingly thinking he said too much with the way he’s gulping, his eyes moving between yours quickly.

He’s nervous, you can tell, he’s hard to read to most people but to you? You can read him like the back of your hand, shallowly, you can never tell the reason he’s feeling it but you can tell what he’s feeling.

Wait.. the only thing on his mind was kissing? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he thinking of the game? Was he thinking of kissing someone else out there? Was he thinking of kissing you?

Your mind was racing with thoughts as you try to decode what he said, hoping by some miracle it’s a confession and you can finally kiss him.

But you can’t, it’s too vague, you don’t have enough to work with to come up with anything concrete. So you two are left looking at each other, words on the tip of your tongue that you want to spill out, that you want him to kiss you, but they don’t come.

Because while you’re silent, he is too, leaving you no indicator that he also wants it. So you’re left, looking at him. “Man, Seungkwan needs to clean this room,” Vernon suddenly says, you hadn’t noticed him look away and you peel your eyes away from him to look around, a laugh slipping past your throat.

“Yeah he really does, jeez,” you reply, not knowing how else to continue the conversation because all you can think about is what the fuck you should do. Fuck it. “Nonie,” you call out to him, his attention immediately on you, and you’re finishing your sentence before he can say anything, “you should kiss me.”

He doesn’t move, neither do you, but he seems to be frozen in his, not even breathing while he stares at you. “What?” he asks, dumbly, after a few seconds and you’re starting to think you’re making a huge mistake but you can’t turn back now so you’re just repeating yourself, quieter this time.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds again and your heart is racing and your body feeling like it’s about to throw up whatever you last ate and you realize just how dry your throat is gotten and how you left your water bottle out sitting in the circle still.

You’re too busy overthinking to see him walk over to you, his hand grazing your cheek pulls you back to reality, his eyes pouring into yours, silently asking if you were sure.

You nod slightly to him, letting him know you are, your hands reaching out to hold the back of his neck and he’s softly pressing his lips against yours.

It’s barely a kiss but it’s enough to feel as though matches had just struck your skin, your hands pulling him closer to kiss him more. He practically melts into you, his hands moving to grip your waist so he can ground himself.

You swear you’re losing your mind with how strong his cologne is, how his fingers dig into you to make sure you aren’t going to disappear, how his lips mold against yours— Your head is spinning. It’s too much, but it’s also not enough, you need him to kiss you harder.

It’s still featherlight and you need to feel his lips against yours more, he pulls back to breathe, you think, or find his sanity like you need to do, his eyes still closed. “Vernon,” you whisper, his eyebrows furrowing as you call him by his name, something you haven’t done in what feels like years, “Kiss me like you mean it.”

He smiles at you, his eyes practically sparking as he captures your lips in his again, finally pressing against yours firmly, his arms moving to wrap around you to hold you even closer when that doesn’t feel possible.

Your hands move to his hair, not caring that he had it done up and slicked back, he doesn’t seem to care either because he’s even smiling against you, tilting his head more to deepen the kiss.

Lungs are aching as you both sit there, absorbed in each other, but you couldn’t care, not when he’s like this with you. His lips part and yours do the same, his tongue carefully meeting yours before the door flies open, revealing Seungkwan standing there.

“I knew this would get you two together!” He exclaims triumphantly, a wide smile on his face while you two are practically jumping away from each other, heat spreading to both your cheeks.

You don’t say anything and just look at Vernon, him doing the same and then he’s walking over to the door, pushing Seungkwan out of the room. “Five more minutes,” he says, shutting the door and then walking back over to you, arms wrapping right back around you.

“I like you by the way,” he suddenly confesses, kissing you once again before you can respond and you’re left standing there torn— to kiss him back or confess back.

[glitched-dawn]

guys I am so fucking tired of how childish my dad is being. I’m fucking convinced he needs anger management

I’m not even sorry for the rant this shit is so unbelievably childish it’s not even funny

I was working on my new project today, Guts and Glory (a compilation of every gory scene in my novel series) and I was posting the chapter titles in my discord group chat because they were so fucking funny (example: Actual Guts This Time! Yaaay! | Boohoo, He Broke Free From The Barbed Wire | He Broke Free From The Barbed Wire again :( | Sweet Sweet GORY Dreams).

and so my dad walks in, he wants me to come along on a mushroom hunting walk. I say no, I’m working on a new project, but then all of a sudden he asks to see my discord.

I’m assuming it’s because I closed discord as soon as he came in, but that’s because I’m constantly switching between discord, yt, tumblr and google docs.

okay, at first, he just asked who I was talking with. I said my group chat, then I went to discord and closed the group chat because I’d posted all those chapter titles that were certainly not very friendly (every single one of them contained the word fuck, and we’ll, it’s Guts and Glory, what can you expect).

and then he asked me why I closed the group chat, and he asks me to show my discord.

I say FUCK NO because I don’t want to violate my friends’ privacy, they often put vulnerable and personal things I their statuses and I don’t want my dad to judge them because of that.

but my dad takes it as I can’t show my discord because I’m hiding things in there, and demands to see it.

I say no, I continue reading my works and opening more friendly docs instead of the guts and glory one, and the ones with the gory fight scenes currently open.

But he just keeps on asking to see my discord, and eventually he just tells me I’m going with him to the woods to hunt mushrooms, I say no I’d rather go on a walk, so he just sighs and leaves (don’t get me wrong he sighed like a furious fucking hog) and I go back to doing my work on Guts and Glory.

I can hear my dad whining to my mom downstairs, but she sounds calm and she doesn’t come up or anything so I’m guessing she actually had common sense about this.

but then, just a few minutes later, I notice that I can’t edit my docs - because there’s no wifi.

so I shrug it off as my dad overreacting and shutting off the wifi, and instead go play some offline hollow knight randomizer.

but then, I notice that my computer’s screen goes a bit darker and I hear the unplug sound effect from my mouse, but it’s still plugged in.

turns out, all electricity in the entire house except the ceiling lamps doesn’t work. I don’t think my dad would overreact that bad, and the wifi disappearing might be because of the “storm” outside, same with the electricity, but the last thing I know was him.

you see, I have a screen time limit on my phone. It’s supposed to limit my screen time after midnight to eight in the morning, but it’s buggy as fuck and activates both midnight and noon, and I can ignore it completely.

but my dad changed that.

so now I can’t use Spotify and google docs on my phone, not any app that I forgot to ignore the screenlimit on before he fixed it. Thankfully I did fix Spotify today, but it’s gonna be unusable after midnight, and chat. I don’t fall asleep that early. It is going to be fucking torture to try and fall asleep without music.

I don’t know the code to ignore the screenlimit, but fuck me if I’m gonna ignore getting it removed. I’m gonna ask my mom AND dad to come help me solve this shit, so that it doesn’t active at noon too, so it only activates after midnight (or I can get it removed completely, I fucking pray)

on a different note, I’m also going on a meeting with a psychologist tomorrow. And I have no idea who’s coming with me.

I ain’t gonna tell that bitch nun if my parents are still there I’ll tell ya what

but thats it I had to get that out and I am STILL so fucking angry over how childish my dad is being and how he refuses to grow the fuck up and act like a damn adult

[idealspawn]

im so happy. im so happy i barely even come on tumblr anymore... i met up w the guy im seeing. he kissed me when we were sitting on a large swing :D he told me he actually already wanted to kiss me the last time we were together. we also went out to eat. i let him pick what i ordered and got the bar to make me a surprise drink so it would be fun and challenge my ed. they made a cucumber tom collins w reduced sugar(the only instruction i gave them was to not make the drink too sweet bc i dont like sweet things all that much). and!! tom collins is my fav cocktail btw!! :DD. ate a vegan burger and fries. which is also pretty cool bc i avoid bread generally. but i didnt die and it was so good. we walked around a lot and then climbed on top of this climbing pyramid?? at a playground. we lied down and just talked. i was supposed to go back to my sister's place but he asked if i wanted to stay over at his for a while. he sang to me and played his guitar and showed his cool posters and told me the stories behind them. our first KISS KISS like make out kiss was so cute too... he played a song i knew but had weird memories attached to it. i told him im glad im making new ones w it. when the chorus came on he spontaneously kissed me :D we stayed silent w our foreheads touching till the end of the song. now i can associate the song w good memories :D we cuddled and kissed a lot. i ended up accidentally falling asleep and my sister thought sth had happened to me bc my battery had died too. but it was so nice. it was all so innocent and had no implications that it had to go any further than cuddling and kisses. we were all over eachother and tbh i dont think ive ever felt this comfortable w physical touch w anyone else before. he looks at me w such adoration too.. its so sweet. he said he has discovered so much good music from looking at my spotify which is cute.. our shared playlist now shows that the songs only i listened to before are the songs in common to us. thats sweet... he is so gentle and vulnerable and open. and he likes my quirks and doesnt view them as weird. lol i have that neurodivergent rizz. no but truly. so much more happened. i wish i could talk abt everything but im so exhausted i havent slept at all for the past week bc ive been so busy w diff events. saw my ex at this one party btw. she made long awkward eye contact w me but i looked away very fast but i saw from the corner of my eye that she didnt. at the last party the roles were reversed, i couldnt stop staring at her but she broke the eye contact fast. cool to know im over her completely now. anyway, im in such a great mood that i dont think even she can ruin it. she didnt look like she was having a great time and im glad. i had so much fun and i now think she truly did me a favour by leaving me. i have glow-upped so much and she hasnt. :) i feel so loved by everyone. i cant wait to meet up w the guy again next week. we have so many fun things planned. i cant stop thinking about our goodbye kiss. it was so passionate :D and our chemistry is so good. like truly one of the best. i layed my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating. when i wrapped my arm around him i felt how his heart started beating extremely fast. it was so adorable. :) we have so much in common too, its insane. like literally already starting from our childhood.

[gomapda]

sidewalks we crossed [side A: you.]

i started writing this over a year ago and never got around to finishing it; it’s meant to be a three-part thing. so maybe if i post the first part, i’ll be inspired to finish the rest. this wasn’t written to be shared with the public, mostly just for myself (which is why some of it can be cringey), but here we are anyway. hehe. happy birthday lee jihoon! 태어나줘서 고마워!

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

genre: romance, fluff

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

rating: 13+

length: 23k (LOL)

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

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

inspo spotify playlist found here!

side A: you.

“Are you insane?”

If it were months ago, you would’ve winced at the harshness in his tone, but you’ve hardened yourself with resolve, almost saddened that this was the most communication you two have had since, well, you couldn’t recall. “I’ve been contemplating this for a while now.”

“But you didn’t talk to anyone else about it!”

No, you thought bitterly. You just didn’t tell him.

“I’ve already talked to my parents,” you spoke coolly.

He scoffed. “As if they’ve ever actually cared about you and your life.”

You felt anger flare up with a cold dousing of shame. “And what—” You spat. “You do?”

“Wha—of course I do! I’ve always looked out for you! I’m your best friend!”

Bile rose in your throat. “Best friends wouldn’t flake on every single hang out to go off and spend time with their favorite noona—!”

“Don’t you dare pin this on me.”

Your eyes shot up to his.

Cold. Piercing.

So unlike the bright crescents you were used to him having around you. He used to shine in your eyes, never too bright, but in a way that demanded your attention as you basked in his almost ethereal glow.

You were reminded that the moon has phases. And maybe that meant it was time to start anew.

Even if it meant disappearing from sight.

A heavy silence passed over the two of you.

You prepared so many answers to the questions you thought he would bombard you with.

What? You were going to a prestigious international academy several thousand miles away.

When? You were leaving in two months.

How? You got a presidential scholarship.

Why? Because you loved him so much it terrified you.

You had all of these answers.

But it didn’t matter.

Because he didn’t care enough to ask.

The tears couldn’t even form in your eyes. You knew it would be selfish and manipulative if you did. He always felt responsible when you cried.

“You can’t leave,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

A lie.

“You can’t just fucking leave.”

Leaving him, the unspoken message.

“Y/N, you— ”

“Let me go. Please.”

You heard his breath hitch.

You forced yourself to smile softly at him, wanting to ignore the visceral pain in his tensed jawline, widened eyes, and clenched fist. You knew the irreversible wound you were inflicting. Your resolution almost shattered at the prospect.

Almost.

“I’ll keep in touch.”

Another lie.

“Don’t bother.”

You supposed you deserved the door slam that followed his footsteps, not even allowed to watch his retreating form.

You closed in on yourself, finally letting the tears slip down your cheeks quietly.

He would be fine.

He always was without you.

Always will be.

Only a week later, in the comfort of your childhood bedroom nestled in the midst of Busan, did you receive the news from your neighbor a few streets down.

Jihoon decided to go through with moving to Seoul to become a trainee. I hope you can come by to congratulate him! His father and I would love to have you at the party!

Questions ran through your mind.

How long has he been thinking about this? Did he ever mention wanting to become an idol? When did he even apply to become a trainee? When is he leaving? Is he cut out for trainee life? Is he going to make his own music or be forced by his company to make inauthentic music? Is he going to remember to eat his meals? Will he be okay?

You paused for a moment.

Was this because of you?

You realized it didn’t matter.

You weren’t going to get the answers you wanted.

You didn’t deserve to.

You deleted the message.

──────────────────

Years later.

“Man, fuck this thesis work.”

“Careful, if they hear you say that, they might pull your funding out from under you.”

Hyejin glared at you, her lashes unceremoniously sticking a little too high up her eyelid. You wondered whether she knew there was no point in wearing makeup everyday when her only company was her pipettes and centrifuge. “God, sometimes I wish I was in your major.”

“You would wanna read about things like depression and emotional incompetence?”

“Why not? I see it all the time in my major. God. I was at a drinking party the other day—” You winced in advance. “And I just want you to be aware that if you were to include STEM majors in your sample, your EQ mean would drop so fast.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “Alright. Fair. To be honest, though, my research focus is mainly on the public and government’s responses to providing resources for group homes and how to make transitioning a little easier. I’m hoping to garner more attention and funding in order to do more activism. So, technically, I don’t actually measure EQ. Although, I can make guesses based on the public forums that are out there.”

“All I heard is that you’re an absolute saint.”

You laughed. “Maybe to you, unnie.”

“D’you wanna get schwasted tonight?”

“I can’t. I have book club.”

“God, you’re such a fucking nerd. Why am I friends with you again?”

“I distinctly remember you saying it was to, quote, ‘ruin me.’”

“Seven years later and I still haven’t.”

“I dunno about that. I started watching that drama you recommended and my sleep schedule—”

“Isn’t it so good?”

You laughed as she started parroting off lines from the drama and you agreed after much coercion that, yes, the second-lead was indeed a better fit.

Your phone pinged beside you and you stole a quick glance. Your breath hitched as Weverse popped up on your screen. Your pulse slowed down to a normal rate when you realized the notification was from “RM 🌟”.

Maybe you should just delete the app.

You turned your attention back to the girl who was your first college roommate back at Yale, where quick introductions were made, and not a second later, began laughing at the prospect that your RAs probably put you both together for being foreign students from South Korea. 

She was much more refined back then, having already spent an entire year on her own as a Yale undergraduate, but your burning flame managed to craft something entirely new; just as she, like a river running its course, smoothed out your rough edges over time.

She led you back home.

Back to South Korea.

Back to him.

──────────────────

“You said you don’t break promises, Y/N.”

You found yourself grimacing. “Jihoon, that’s not fair—”

“Fair? Y/N, I kicked your ass at darts and now you said you wouldn’t keep your promise.”

“I don’t want my first ever tattoo to be whatever that is!”

“You pinky promised, Y/N.”

Your bottom lip jutted out. “I can’t even tell what it is.”

He stared down at the napkin he drew his artistic rendition on and then looked back at you incredulously. “It’s a firefly. Are you blind?”

You blinked. You could see the wings? Maybe? And those are lines that represent glowing? Not some weird excretion? You held your tongue and asked a more appropriate question. “Why a firefly?”

“I dunno. Seemed fitting. We always go see them together in the summer. They remind me of you. You remind me of them. That’s all, I guess.”

“Aw,” A toothy grin spread across your face. "You think I light up the night?”

“Sure, if you want.”

You could tell that Jihoon was getting embarrassed and wanted to immediately stop talking, but you being you, refused to let it happen. You piped up with your typical know-it-all attitude, “I read somewhere that fireflies represent inspiration and guidance. And hope, I think.”

He looked you straight in the eyes.

Your heart leaped into your throat.

“I guess that’s you, firefly.”

──────────────────

And here you were, in Seoul, a knowing pang in your chest that constantly reminded you of just how close he was. How your relationship always was. Close in proximity, but always left you wanting something more. Something else.

You blinked up at her, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Y/N—”

“I know,” you blurted out.

“You just look like you’re on the brink of a panic attack every time you see a Twitter or Weverse update.”

“It’s not that bad,” you grumbled.

Hyejin’s features softened.

Your chest tightened. You hated that look.

Pity.

“Actually, unnie. I’ll join you tonight. Screw book club.”

A knowing smirk spread across her lips. “Alright, bumblebee. My EQ is high enough to realize you’re running away from your issues, but it’s low enough that I won’t do anything about it.”

“I’ll add that to my data then.”

She flicked your forehead.

―――――――――――――――――

You groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, staring down at Hyejin’s bare legs wrapping themselves around your torso.

God. How much did you even drink?

You untangled yourself from her limbs, quickly checking her skin to make sure she didn’t have a repeat of three years ago when she somehow convinced you to let her get a tattoo of the two paper clips emoji on her inner bicep.

“They represent us, bumblebee.”

“How, unnie?”

“We’re like… leaning on each other.”

“That’s... so beautiful, unnie. Thank you.”

You shook your head fondly at the memory, staring at your own addition of two paper clips on the opposite bicep, sans the alcohol in your system. So, who’s to say which one of you is worse than the other?

You tried to unlock your phone but the brightness did too much damage to your eyes to where Face ID couldn’t recognize your look of disapproval. You quickly swiped the brightness all the way down to read the time.

5:43am

That meant you only slept an hour and a half after getting home.

You peeled off the skin-tight clothing your roommate had so lovingly forced you into and grabbed a loose fitting tee and shorts. You knew you had the weekend to recuperate since you’ve completed your work ahead of your deadline.

You poured yourself a glass of water and emptied it in the span of 10 seconds. You could feel your brain recovering from its shriveled state, as if the water seeped into your skull and was being soaked up. You wondered if Wheein, your ridiculously cute neuroscience major friend down the street, would be able to explain why that is.

You hummed to yourself as you grabbed another glass of water and a reusable metal straw before making your way back to your room, where Hyejin was convinced that your bed had healing properties since she never woke up with a hangover when she slept in your space.

“It’s like you just have this homey superpower.”

“Okay, unnie. Please stop eating your hair when I’m trying to feed you toast.”

You set the glass at your bedside table and decided to go through your phone’s notifications before rousing Hyejin awake.

You scrolled through the notifications, mostly people making sure that you both got home okay, Wooyoung sending you a money charge with the caption: I may have ordered you the taxi, but you’re paying for it. Love you noona xoxo

You scrolled until you saw a lone notification from Instagram (why? you haven’t posted in two weeks?) that nearly made you drop your phone in the same way your heart did.

[04:17] wzljh__ liked your post

Your hands shook as you stared at it.

You took a screenshot.

(Just in case.)

You clicked on the notification that took you straight to the post wzljh__ liked.

It was a random post from three years ago when you studied abroad in Japan during your junior year, where you were praying in front of a temple for, according to your caption, “to be able to change the world… and also get into a PhD program.”

You clicked on the usernames that indicated who liked your post. You couldn’t find the familiar handle anywhere. Secondhand embarrassment rushed through your veins and passed as quickly as it came.

You came to three conclusions at once.

1. Lee Jihoon reactivated his Instagram.

B. He didn’t block you.

III. He stalked your profile.

──────────────────

“Y/N, I really don’t think—”

“Jihoonie, I need to get more likes on my post. Therefore, I am making you this profile. You don’t even have to go on that often. Okay? You can deactivate it once I go viral enough to have the world at my disposal.”

“That’s never going to happen—”

“Believe in me more, would you?”

“Why should I?”

“Because I believe in you.”

──────────────────

Jihoon immediately reprimanded you, telling you that you didn’t need to appease anyone as a sixteen-year-old (God, he really was too mature for his own good) but your whining had him yielding once you promised that you’d catch up on One Piece over the weekend and that you would make a bento for him.

He only ever posted once (at your request), but he did like every single one of your posts back then, although, no one would know since those were all archived (for the sake of preserving your current social life by preventing the increase in Hyejin’s arsenal of embarrassing photos of you).

Only months later did you have that falling out and his deactivation quickly followed. You believed he wouldn’t ever reactivate his personal account, especially with his woozi_universefactory account set up for Pledis, which, even then, was hardly posted on.

You clicked on his profile to see the anonymous profile picture still there. You saw his followers list and saw only four names.

That once familiar wave of jealousy that plagued you for over a decade never came when you saw her name. It dissipated a few years back after a night of confessions and mascara stained tears, hushed whispers and muffled sobs tucked away in the corner of a Busan bar in the middle of winter.

You checked his following list and saw several musical artists as well as your own handle.

Wait. Where was hers?

You navigated to her page to make sure you weren’t completely delirious and your brain slowly caught up with your eyes.

He wasn’t following her.

You typed in her username to find her profile. Immediately, her beautiful smile shone brighter on the page than the dimly lit screen could do justice.

You never hated her. She was a confidant and a beloved person in your life. Still is. You were all childhood friends (along with your cousin) with deep ties and connections, although the same could not be said for you and Jihoon currently.

But you hated how it all turned out: she didn’t reciprocate feelings towards Jihoon, but didn’t have the courage to properly reject him either.

Because, who would ever want to let him go?

You did, your mind supplied.

You bit your tongue and wondered if Jihoon found out that she was proposed to by your cousin just over a month ago, the one who she spent her childhood years pining after.

Maybe that’s why he’s not following her anymore.

──────────────────

“Y/N.”

“Shh, Jihoon. I’m concentrating.”

“On what?”

“My wish!”

You felt a tug at your earlobe and your fourteen-year-old self squeaked out, “Why!”

“What’re you wishing for?”

“I can’t tell you! That’s not how wishes work…”

He let out a gruff noise and sat across from you, his bright red shorts and white shirt were definite contrasts against the dirt surrounding your two small bodies.

“I’ll tell you one of my wishes.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. If you tell me one of yours.”

“You first.”

“Ladies first.”

“I asked and it’s only polite if you answer.”

He huffed. “You never make any sense.”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes before he cast his gaze down in a boyish way that was just so charming, you too had to look away. “I want the courage to be able to confess my feelings before it’s too late.”

You stared at the river and wondered whether it was deep enough to catch all the tears that wanted to spill themselves from out of you, the image of her coming to the forefront of your mind.

“Firefly?”

“Hm?”

“What about you?”

You forced a smile as your eyes met his.

“I want to be friends forever.”

You knew wishes would never come true if you said them out loud.

──────────────────

“Jesus Christ! How long have you been standing over me like a fucking creep?”

Your trip down memory lane was interrupted by Hyejin’s screeching. You promptly rolled your eyes. “Get up, Princess. I got some water for you.”

“I’m gonna spill it on my face—”

“I brought a straw too.”

“How about a diamond ring? Because if you popped the question, I’d say yes immediately.”

You resisted the urge to smack the smug grin on her face and pushed the water over to her. “You would want a diamond, wouldn’t you?”

“All-naturally mined. No lab made stuff. Spent enough time there myself. Don’t need a ring to remind me of it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind to tell Wheein—”

“Shut up.”

“You’re right. She probably already knows. Being childhood friends and all.”

“Shall I remind you of your unrequited childhood love?”

“‘S not the same,” you responded automatically. She raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t even seen him.”

“What? We rewatched their Melon performance literally two days ago, what the fuck you mean you haven’t seen—”

“I meant in person, unnie.”

She clicked her tongue. “And we went to the SEVENTEEN concert seven months ago. We would’ve gotten the fan sign too if you weren’t being so damn annoying about it.”

Your flustered response was enough to make Hyejin laugh at your expense. “I-I just wasn’t sure whether he would’ve even wanted to see me!”

She paused at your words.

You blinked owlishly at her. “What?”

“You used to say that you knew he didn’t want to see you. Now you’re not sure? What happened while I was passed out?”

You gulped.

She set her glass down quietly, a soft smile that seemed misplaced surrounded by her strained features.

“Bumblebee, take a seat.”

You promptly fell to your knees, feeling like explaining the situation would be akin to confessing your sins.

You only hoped she wouldn’t damn you to hell.

──────────────────

“Just slide into his DM’s.”

“Hell no.”

“Don’t talk to your unnie like that.”

You scoffed. “I’m not going to slide into his DM’s like some sad bitch who’s been yearning for over a decade.”

“...but isn’t that exactly what you are?”

You were so close to throwing your mimosa across the table. Too bad the American-inspired restaurant you were at only had half-off drinks during the weekday happy hour. You weren’t going to waste your full-priced flute of champagne and orange juice.

“Give me your phone.”

“No.”

“Bumblebee, I promise I won’t message him. Just give me your phone, I want to see his profile again.”

You took your pinky, made an ‘X’ over your heart with it, pressed the tip against your lips, and held it out for her to do the same.

“God, what are you, 5?”

“Pinky promises cannot be broken. If you break them, you break my trust.”

“You know, for someone who’s studied Psychology, you sure believe in a lot of non-evidence-based practices.”

You emphatically made your point by bringing your pinky closer to her. She sighed and hooked hers around yours. “Satisfied, bumbles?”

“Always, unnie. There’s something beautiful about how the biggest of promises are made with the littlest of fingers.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up at that.

She took your phone and turned it to where you could see her every move. She clicked Jihoon’s profile and went to his first and only post, already liked by your sixteen-year-old self.

She looked as though she were scrutinizing the caption. You expected her to try and formulate an idea of him that was separate from his stage persona.

What you didn’t expect was for her to unlike the post and quickly like it again.

“UNNIE!”

“Oh, bumblebee, I think you would have broken the sound barrier with how loud that was.”

You were too busy having a meltdown to realize the whispering voices around you, giving pointed looks of disdain. Hyejin smiled at everyone and bowed slightly in apology. She tossed your phone at you.

“You said you wouldn’t—”

“I didn’t message him, did I?”

Your mouth went dry while your tears welled up.

Hyejin recognized the consequences of her actions immediately. “Whoa, hey. Y/N, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“You don’t get to decide if it’s fine or not.”

She flinched back at your harsh tone.

You stared blankly at the phone in front of you, the once red heart, drained white, and filled again with color in the span of a microsecond.

Your watery eyes met Hyejin’s concerned gaze.

You bit your lip. “Can you pull out your phone?”

She froze. “Why...?”

“Because I’m going to eat everything off of this brunch menu and you’re paying for it, so you’re going to have to make a transfer from your savings now.”

“...Yeah, okay. Fair.”

──────────────────

“They’re both cooked dough with butter and syrup.”

You gasped loudly. “Jihoon! Blasphemous!”

He gave you a deadpanned look. “Y/N, you mean to tell me that it’s really that important whether I decide between pancakes or waffles?”

“Waffles are obviously superior! They have little pockets that cradle the syrup, with crisp edges and fluffy insides!”

“There’s literally no one here that’s arguing against you right now.”

“I need you to agree with me!”

“No, you want me to.”

You plopped back down into the booth, shoulders slumped at a lost cause.

“...would it make you happy?”

“What?”

Jihoon cleared his throat. “I asked if it would make you happy. If I agreed that waffles are superior to pancakes.”

You stammered, a blush creeping up your neck at the question. “Uh, no. It was a dumb debate. I was just trying to be annoying. I—”

“It’s okay to let yourself be happy even over the dumb things, firefly.”

You twiddled with your thumbs and bit back the goofiest grin as you heard Jihoon call the waiter over to order your shared waffle platter, asking for, ‘enough syrup to fill each little pocket’.

You never saw Jihoon eat pancakes after that day, always opting for the obviously superior choice. 

―――――――――――――――――

The joy of eating butter and carbs and sugar from that day was not enough to sustain you through the week once you realized you had a paper deadline that was sooner than you remembered.

Your eyes ran over the words again, nearly questioning your sanity when it felt like you spent the last thirty minutes trying to reorganize your paper in a way that was cohesive. You spent so much time unlearning the APA 6th edition format to relearn the APA 7th edition, and then moving back to Korea made you throw all of that out the window. Therefore, your mind was a jumbled mess of DOI numbers and misplaced periods.

This paper was due in less than a week and you still found yourself questioning whether the literature review was comprehensive enough to cover all twenty sources you were required to include. Two pages. A list of twenty sources that took up approximately three-fourths of your second page. A singular paragraph of literature review on peer-reviewed articles studying the risk factors of suicide in Korean adolescents before needing to address implications and future research and potential programs that could address these issues.

“Nothing is real,” you muttered to yourself.

You glanced around the library and noticed a scarcity of other human beings. You groaned to yourself as you realized you hadn’t moved from your seat in over eight hours and the library was due to close in ten minutes.

You wanted to stab yourself in the neck when you remembered you still had the Social Welfare 101 class’s papers to grade. You knew that they needed feedback on their writing and you also knew they saw you as a pushover, so the papers are very likely lackluster, especially since the class was filled with people who were trying to get their Humanities credit for their degree in another field.

“Become a doctor, they said. It will be worth it, they said,” your hushed-tone almost mocking.

One of the other TAs from the Educational Psychology department had offered to take some of the grading from you, knowing that you had several large projects due soon, but you quickly brushed off the offer, saying that you could handle it.

A few stray tears slid down your face as you felt overwhelmed by the entirety of the last four years. You graduated early from Yale and dove straight into a doctoral program you could have easily put off by working for a few years.

You removed your glasses and buried your face into your hands, allowing yourself five minutes of reprieve. Just five. Before you needed to pack up and get back to work.

Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?

──────────────────

[tw: suicide mention]

“Social work is a useless field, Y/N.”

You grit your teeth. “Eomeonim, I—”

“Did you think I wouldn’t see your interview in the school newsletter? Saying you want to go to Seoul National University and study social work? No daughter of mine is going to go into a field that has no chance of finding a job that makes money. You think that your Abeonim and I will be supporting you for the rest of your life? What will the neighbors say, huh?”

“Eomma—”

“No, you do not get to call me that, you ungrateful child. I did not work as hard as I did to put you through the additional tutoring and classes I have for you to just betray me like this.”

Bile rose up in your throat and you choked back the tears threatening to spill.

“Oh, and there she goes, being dramatic again. You don’t think I feel like crying too? You want to become a social worker? You want to help people? How can you do that when you’re so selfish?”

Your nails dug themselves into the meat of your palms, but not hard enough to cause pain, not when your nervous habit of biting them whittled them down to stubs.

“Get out. Come back when your head is clear.”

You moved, but not too hastily so as to signal her to your anxiety, for you were just a prey and she was the apex predator. You kept your gaze downcast and zipped up your designer brand backpack before looping your arms through the pristinely kept straps. Your family had a reputation throughout the town to keep. And you were the heir to it all.

All of the glamour.

All of the charisma.

All of the pressure.

All of the pride.

All of the distrust.

All of the insecurity.

All of the underlying self-hatred.

You shut the door behind you softly and wrapped your arms around you, letting your feet carry you to the one place you knew you could find solace.

Once you arrived, picking a fallen leaf off of your skirt, you knocked weakly at the window pane.

Jihoon glanced up from his desk and made his way to open it for you. “Hey, firefly.”

You quietly slipped through the frame.

“Bad day?”

“Do you ever, just, think about stopping?”

Jihoon blinked once. “Stopping what?”

“Life, I guess.”

He remained silent and he uncrossed his arms so you knew, at least physically, he was open to listening to you. This wasn’t the first time you brought up this subject to him.

“I could just end it all, Jihoon. I could just have it all be over. My parents wouldn’t have to worry anymore. They wouldn’t have to be so disgusted by the fact that they birthed such an ungrateful and selfish child.”

Jihoon breathed deeply through his nose. You knew how much it stirred up his insides whenever you talked about this, but he would reiterate that your safety was always more important than his comfort.

“I should just do it, right? That’ll prove something to them. That’ll show them that they’re not the perfect people everyone makes them out to be. They drove their daughter to this. Oh, but. They might just use it as an excuse to garner more attention. Woe is the perfect family in Busan, they struggle with loss, just like us. But… I could just end it all now. It could all be over, Jihoon. I have that power.”

“You do, firefly. You could end it all.”

Your head shot up so fast you nearly got whiplash. You were expecting soft!Jihoon, not whatever this was. You spluttered, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re the one who said it.”

“Are you saying I should just do it then?”

“No,” Jihoon said evenly. “I’m just saying that you do have that power. But you also have the power not to. You have the power to continue on.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“But you have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Jihoon!”

Jihoon clicked his tongue at your raised tone. “Whoa, hey. You’re the one who always says you have to jump through hoops in order to ‘earn’ love. I’m not the one who taught you that bullshit; go talk to your parents about that.”

“But they’re right!”

“No, they’re not.”

“Shut up! You don’t know me!”

“Y/N, I have spent more time with you than those sorry excuses of parental figures ever have!”

“Those are my parents!”

“Yeah, and they’re assholes!”

“You’re the one who doesn’t know! They’re the ones who see me, who know me best. They raised me. They know how disappointing I am. They know how useless I am. They know! They’re the ones who know just how unworthy I am!”

“God! Why do you care so much?! Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?!”

You sucked in a sharp breath. Your bottom lip trembled as your voice came out, horribly fragile, a complete contrast to your sharp tone from just moments ago. “I… Because it’s me, Jihoon. I’m either too much for people or I’m never enough. So, I have to do everything perfectly to prove that I’m worthy. I have to be better than anyone else. Because I have to make up for the fact that it’s me.”

You were openly sobbing.

“But… you’re not better than anyone else, firefly.”

You tried to muffle your tears enough to hear Jihoon’s voice over your crying. Your eyes met his and you expected to see pity, but instead, his facial expression remained as neutral, a steadfast look in his eyes amidst all of your wavering.

“Firefly, you suck at Super Smash Bros. You’ve never won a game against me. Not even one. In like, ten whole years. Also, you’re really bad at timing when ramyeon noodles are done. You always overcook them. You cry when you see a fat seagull waddling down the shoreline. You can’t eat spicy food to save your life. You use too many emojis when you type. You can’t even jog 100m without wanting to pass out. You get so angry that you blow up at others and shame them for making you angry, but you hate it when people are mad at you. You refuse to share your food when it’s still warm, but force me to finish it when you’re full. You don’t trust others enough to do their part of the work so you never let anyone else help you. You have a nervous habit of saying stupid random facts when a pretty girl talks to you. You once poured milk before the cereal. You’re full of flaws.”

Your lips were pressed in a thin line, but the tears had ceased approximately halfway through his listing of your traits.

“You are not the best. By any means. Mediocre, even.”

“I’m kind of hurt.”

Jihoon snorted. “You don’t know everything, firefly. You’re not always going to be the smartest in the room. You’re not the best that ever existed. You never will be. But you’re never too much. And you’re always enough. And although your parents and nearly every adult in this town could think otherwise, you will meet people, people like noona, like hyung, like me, who will still care about you even when you’re being a shitty little brat like you are now. People who will still care about you even when you’re not number one.” 

“…You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.”

──────────────────

“Do you ever think about generational trauma?”

Hyejin gave you a sideways glance. “Do we need to pull out the therapy chair and the rosé for this?”

You swatted the offer away. “I’m serious.”

“What d’you mean then, bumblebee?”

“I just think about my parents and the pressure that was probably put on them from their parents and the parents before. But with each generation, no one decided to try and break the cycle. They just kept taking their hurt and putting it onto the next. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s not just my family. It’s prevalent… everywhere. Did you know that South Korea has one of the highest rates of suicide in all of the OECD countries, second only to Lithuania? Common risk factors among adolescents tend to be academic pressure and family issues. So. I know it’s not just me. The numbers don’t lie.”

“Is this related to the paper you were working on earlier?”

You pondered for a moment. “I think researching adolescents and suicidality might’ve triggered some old memories, yeah.”

“Are you…?”

“Okay,” you finished her question. “The thoughts only come when I’m feeling overwhelmed with stuff. And it being our last semester, it’s just… a lot is being demanded of us. Classes, projects, thesis defense. I’m feeling, I dunno, a little helpless.”

“Hmm, I’m remembering some wise words from my undergraduate roommate at Yale~” Hyejin said, in a sing-song voice. “She said that the best way to stop feeling helpless is…?”

You glared.

“The best way to stop feeling helpless iiiiiis…?”

“...to ask for help.”

“Wow, right on the money.”

You decidedly messaged your fellow TA to ask them to help alleviate some of your workload to which they happily agreed.

Which you only gained the courage to ask for after a straight-winning streak in several online matches of Super Smash Ultimate.

You weren’t mediocre.

You just realized he wasn’t either.

──────────────────

Just a few days later, on a rare weekend where you managed to pull away from schoolwork, you found yourself in the attic of the group home you worked on-and-off at for the past four years, sorting through boxes of tattered toys, gathering the ones necessary to put through the washer. You laid down on the floor, the rickety boards beneath you groaning at your weight. You passively wondered whether a cartoon moment would happen and the group home inhabitants would find a you-shaped hole in their ceiling.

You reached into your own backpack and pulled out your own toy of sorts. You threw it up in the air only to let gravity do the work to bring it back into your hold. You had to be careful to not give yourself a black eye like you did a few years back.

“Whoa, you played baseball?”

You glanced at the tattered ball in your hand, the stitching almost undone, the yarn beginning to peek through. The color was no longer a pristine white, but that only proved its history of handling. “Choi Sannie, what about me says ‘athlete’?”

“Hey,” your younger coworker put his arms up in defense, fully climbing into the attic space now. “I know all of the things we have here at the home, and that is definitely not one of them. So that means that’s yours. Or you stole it—” He gasped loudly in delight. “You stole—!”

“No, dumbass.”

He deflated. He knelt down on the floor next to you, inspecting the baseball without taking it in his hands, careful to not overstep your boundaries. You taught him all about consent; Choi San was a wild child, but he knew respect. “May I see?”

You tossed it casually over to him.

“Is this handwriting? I can barely read it.”

“Even if it was brand new, I promise that handwriting would be illegible to the average person anyways.”

“You’re not average though.”

“Of course not.”

“So, what does it say?”

“Gwangan-dong, Busan, August 2.”

“Was it a gift?”

“Yeah.”

“From who?”

“An old friend.”

“Why keep it?”

You hummed softly.

“For the days that feel like I’ve lost.”

──────────────────

Lee Jihoon was a boy who demanded attention. And he always had it. But not because he would go parade and peacock around for the sake of trying to earn it. He naturally caught it, with collected looks and smooth words. Everyone in your town knew him: his ability to work hard and even more, his ability to achieve. He never needed to do anything to garner more attention because all of it was already on him. Even at the perfect attention-craving age of thirteen.

Lee Jihoon would never show off.

You had been to every single one of Jihoon’s baseball games, cheering silently when he made a great call, throwing mental expletives when things were going awry. You knew his mannerisms, his tells. Hell, you even knew the code for when the coach beckoned his players to steal a base.

So, you knew when Jihoon was showing off.

You wanted to gag at the sight of him puffing out his chest while he wore his catcher gear. You often believed him to be beyond this world but the reality quickly slapped you back as you wondered why exactly he was being so obnoxious.

Your unnie turned to you, “It’s almost over, yes?”

You wanted to laugh at the fact it seemed like she aged an additional year for every inning. “Yes, unnie.”

“I don’t understand how there’s no timer.”

“It’s done by the number of outs.”

She nodded, but you knew she didn’t actually take it in, since you repeated that fact three times over the course of the past two hours.

“Our Jihoonie’s doing well, right?”

“Yep, as per usual.”

“I really don’t understand baseball, lovebug.”

You pat her shoulder. “It’s alright. I don’t mind telling you. Although, you might want to ask oppa more about it. He knows more than I do. He messaged me and said he’ll be here in about five minutes so he can take us all out for dinner after.”

She froze. You quirked an eyebrow.

You noticed the redness creeping up her neck.

“Oh my God. Unnie! Do you like my cous—?”

Before she could say anything to defend herself, you felt the bleachers around you shift in tandem and you nearly toppled over until she caught you.

Your eyes found Jihoon, who was holding the ball that sealed their fate: they won. He won.

You saw him and his teammates gather together, his mask coming off to reveal his black hair sticking to his forehead and his ever-so-brilliant smile.

Oh no. You were so smitten.

After several moments of trying to push through the crowd, you finally reach a place where you spot Jihoon animatedly speaking to your unnie, who managed to get ahead of you by several paces.

You immediately froze.

Even from this far away, you could see his eyes clearly. Of course, you could. You were so practiced in searching for them, in times of joy, in mourning, in dancing, in sorrow. In those dark irises, swirled something so raw, your breathing became ragged. You saw the way he looked at her. You knew the look in his eyes.

Because you’d caught glimpses of it in yours in passing mirrors whenever you were with him.

How long did it take you to realize?

Suddenly, you wanted to be anywhere but there.

You rushed backwards, much easier to run away than it was to charge forth. You ran and ran and ran until you reached the back of the bleachers where you crumpled down onto your knees, effectively getting grass stains on your poor clothes.

“Mommy! Mommy! There’s someone crying!”

“Baby, no—let’s go over here.”

“She’s an ugly crier, like you!”

You cursed the fact that children were basically sober drunks and said whatever was on their mind. The fateful “u” word that repeated itself obsessively in your mind.

You thought of your unnie.

Your beautiful, elegant, sweet, soft unnie.

Of course Jihoon would prefer her.

He was pulled into her gravity with no room for resistance. His crescent smiles faced her, never to show his dark side, for she was the earth he orbited: captivating and delicate.

Why would he even care to ever look your way?

You were a given; never a prize to be sought. You were unrefined and blundering in your demeanor. You were on the crux of puberty, an awkward and horrendous time that consisted of your skin deteriorating, hormones running rampant, and just. So. Many. Emotions.

Ugly.

“Whoa, whoa, ladybug, is that you?”

You glanced up, not even bothering to wipe away the dribbling mess that was on your face. Your cousin stared in horror at your tears.

“God, you look horrible.”

A broken sob ripped through your chest and your cousin quickly realized he made a mistake. He scooped you up into his arms and held you as you cried, cried, cried.

If jealousy was the ugliest trait, you must have been downright hideous.

Later, you had your face tucked into your cousin’s chest as he apologized to Jihoon and your unnie, who both reached for you, but your cousin, in his typical knight-in-shining armor fashion, brushed them aside and pulled you closer. He convinced them that you received some off-putting remarks from your parents and didn’t want to talk about it (a regular occurrence), so he would take you back to his place to cheer you up with some Disney movies and freshly squeezed lemonade.

Your unnie offered condolences and a swift pat on your head before she called her dad to come pick her up, all of you waiting until she drove off.

Jihoon spent the time waiting listing off a myriad of your needs (“You have to make sure you have the double Kleenex, okay? The other ones leave weird fuzz on her cheeks. And don’t let her wash the dishes when she’s sad because she doesn’t realize how hot the water actually is and ends up rubbing her skin raw. And make sure you use simple syrup for the lemonade and not just sugar, she hates the crystals.”) while he packed his gear away, preparing to walk back on his own, his home not too far away from the baseball field.

You felt your cousin squirm at the prospect of Jihoon having to carry all of his gear after playing a two-hour game and having no food in his stomach. “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”

He looked back at him, glanced at you, probably noticing the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly.

“Here, firefly.”

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up to realize what it was doing. You saw a small object in the air, falling within your arms reach.

So, you caught it.

Your eyes trailed up to meet his, momentarily forgetting he was the sole cause of your meltdown.

His jaw clenched so hard, you cowered slightly.

“Why are you giving me this?”

You cringed at the sound of your voice, gruff and raspy.

“It’s your win today.”

You blinked rapidly. “Huh?”

Jihoon sighed and you wondered if he just considered you a petulant child.

“Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”

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

You sniffled, the corner of your mouth upturned.

Before you could say anything, Jihoon immediately turned on his heel and walked away.

You looked up and caught your cousin staring at Jihoon’s retreating form with a bemused look. 

“Alright, ladybug, let’s get you home. Your parents are probably preparing dinner right now.”

“You promised Disney and lemonade.”

Your cousin sighed dramatically. “I guess I did,” he ruffled your hair to which you let out a prolonged, annoyed groan. “Which movie?”

You pondered for a moment. “Hercules?”

You thought of Jihoon and his reputation throughout your town: attention-grabbing, diligent, admirable, heroic.

But most of all, kind.

“You got good taste, ladybug.”

──────────────────

“Does today feel like a lost day?”

You resisted the urge to mess with the singular faded green streak running through San’s hair, a test subject from when Hyejin wanted you to dye her hair, but you didn’t want to try it out on yourself nor buy a synthetic wig. A rebellious eighteen-year-old was the best option at the time. “No. It doesn’t.”

“Then why do you have this?” He inquired again.

“Because I can do what I want, San. It’s my win.”

He pulled a face of indignation at your rare (at least to him) display of childishness. Your phone pinged on top of your thigh, alerting you to its presence.

[12:42] wzljh__ liked your post

You bit back a grin, knowing San would question you endlessly if he caught it. So you tucked it away, for a later time, where you could be alone and smile as widely as you wanted to. He was getting more and more bold. Hyejin’s action, you knew, was what spurred him on. You wanted to laugh in disbelief.

Lee Jihoon was a man who demanded attention.

And he always had it.

──────────────────

“No, no. Noona, you promised.”

“I did no such thing.”

Wooyoung scoffed at your words. He pulled out his phone and his nimble thumbs quickly found what he was looking for, signified by a soft ‘ah-hah!’. “You said you would help me try and secure BTS tickets. You’re the only other person that I know that has the ARMY Membership.”

You glanced at his screen and saw your drunk state and you resisted the urge to keel over at the sight. You heard your slurred words promising the very thing Wooyoung was asking of you now. “I wasn’t sober enough to realize what I was saying. Also, what kind of person films their drunk friend and coerces them into promising to get BTS tickets?”

“I never said I was a good person, noona.”

“Ask San or Seonghwa.”

“They don’t have the ARMY Membership,” Wooyoung repeated, emphasizing the last two words. “I’m out here trying to secure the front section. It’s close enough to the stage where I can see Jimin-hyung’s sweat without the screen.”

You grimaced. “Weird ass fanboy.”

“You cannot deny that he is a beautiful man,” Wooyoung said pointedly. “Although, I assume your type is like 15cm shorter and a muscle bunny.”

“He’s only 11cm shorter, sir.”

“Okay, okay. Keep defending your boyfriend.”

You spluttered, instinctively responding with what you said for most of your middle and high school days to those around you. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Wooyoung gave you a ‘duh’ look. “No shit. You’ve never even met him because you refuse to get the fan signing tickets because you’re a weak ass coward.”

Well. He was definitely right about one of those things. You often forget that you’ve kept your history with him private from most except Hyejin.

(And Wheein.)

(Because Hyejin told her.)

(Luckily, Wheein is a lot more considerate than her boisterous and loose-lipped counterpart.)

“Wooyoungie, you’re really not making me want to help you here, you know.”

“Noona, please.”

He looked at you with his wide brown eyes and jutted out his bottom lip. The thick black frames on the bridge of his nose gave off the impression of innocence, something you would never again associate with the young man in front of you.

His eyes lit up once he visibly saw your determination crumble.

You bit your lip. “You’re paying for this pizza. And we get pineapples on it.”

“I love you~ You are a goddess I am unworthy of even perceiving~ I worship the the ground you walk on, O sweet and kind deity~”

Your mouth twitched. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

Wooyoung looked at you, a serious look in his eye, took your hand and squeezed it. He gave you a smile that almost melted away your disdain. “Thank you, noona.”

“Men like you give women trust issues.”

“Yeah, probably.”

──────────────────

“I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young. I wanted to be your tomorrow, so I lived today. Ever since the first day I saw you until now, in my heart, it’s only you. These typical words, I’m only saying them now. But I hope these typical words will reach you. Thank you, thank you. That’s all I can say. Even all the waiting, all the longing. And all of our memories. Thank you, thank you.”

You half-hoped they would perform this song, half-hoped they wouldn’t. It rendered your heart weak, almost wringing it through with the lyrics and melody, the implication. There was a deep yearning within you that wished these lyrics could have been for you, once upon a time.

You hid yourself with a black face mask and wore a baseball cap. Hyejin told you that you were making yourself look even more conspicuous by wearing such garb, but you couldn’t risk being noticed. You wanted to see him, but in a way that didn’t require vulnerability. Plus, your tears were easier to hide.

Hyejin held your hand, her fingers intertwined with yours, the two of you uncharacteristically calm and still unlike the other CARATs around you, all of whom were cheering and swinging their lightsticks in tandem.

She gave your hand a tight squeeze.

You thought back to what was seemingly a mundane day, going on one of your grocery shopping trips at a Trader Joe’s while still living in New Haven, Connecticut.

The days leading up to your shopping trip, you were a mess of a human being, weighed down by the amount of work you still had left to complete, hardly able to be present in your own life, instead simply watching it go by. Hyejin took over your chores for the week, bought you sweets, stayed up with you even if she finished her own work, made sure to send kind text messages randomly throughout the day, and was all around the best supporter you could have asked for.

You kept apologizing to her for not being able to reciprocate, the only words that your mouth had the energy to form were, “I’m sorry.” And she would, each time, just pat your head with a soft chuckle and say, “You don’t have to keep saying that, you know. You don’t have to say that you’re sorry.”

But you weren’t sure of what you could say instead, so you said nothing at all.

Your grocery trip was made to be more of an adventurous outing that matched the energy that you were able to procure, as cooping yourself indoors only intensified your feelings of stress. However, you were on the mend from the disastrous week, as you finished up your work the day prior to your little trip to the grocery store.

(You couldn’t help but think your ability to even leave your apartment was because of Hyejin.)

After gathering all of the ingredients to cook carbonara (with extra pancetta!) and loading them up in your car, Hyejin offered to return the shopping cart to its designated location.

You saw her from afar and suddenly something overwhelmed you.

You knew what to say instead of: ‘I’m sorry.’

“Bumblebee?”

“Thank you.”

Hyejin gave you a raised eyebrow. “Yeah? Of course.”

“No, I mean...”

You paused. What did you mean?

Did you even have a right to express yourself? That’s all you seemed to do during the week and it was almost embarrassing trying to say something now. Like, this wasn’t the right time and place. The butter was melting in the car.

“Actually, never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young.

She gave a pointed look and said, “Uh. Alright.”

But something tugged at you. A gentle reminder from a gentle person with a seemingly rough personality.

These typical words, I’m only saying them now. But I hope these typical words will reach you.

If he could do it, so could you.

Before she could get into the passenger seat, you called out again, “Actually!”

She glanced your way, still visibly confused.

You took a deep breath. “Thank you for returning the cart. But, ah, more than that. Thank you for coming to the store with me. Thank you for spending time with me. Thank you for consoling me. Thank you for living with me. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for staying by my side. Thank you for loving me.”

You couldn’t hold back your tears, so you didn’t. Your beloved friend did not fare much better.

She was in a state of what seemed like hysteria, laughing with tears streaming down her face. “What the heck, dude? What’s the matter with you? God, I love you so much.”

She took you into her arms and you both cried in the middle of a Trader Joe’s parking lot.

Your heart was filled with gratitude as the thirteen boys on stage interlocked their fingers in a pinky promise to love their fans. You mirrored the action as you took Hyejin’s pinky and interlocked yours with hers. She glanced at you and you gave a smile from behind your mask, trusting she knows what you mean. Trusting that she hears the promise you are making to her, to yourself.

Promising to always be thankful.

Promising to always love.

But if she could not hear the wordless promise echoing in your chest, you knew you would repeat it aloud to her for as long as she needed. To whoever needed it.

Because although those words may be typical, they were still worth saying.

That is a lesson an old friend taught you.

An old friend whose smile now shone as bright as the stage lights that lingered on his form.

──────────────────

Three weeks later, you were up to your neck in deadlines. You were demanded at every possible place you frequented. In the research labs, in the recruitment office, in your collective TAs room, in the group home you volunteered for.

Hypothetically, there should have been no room in your mind for Lee Jihoon.

Too bad you saw him everywhere.

Not just explicitly, like the way his idol group overtook the internet with selfies here and tweets there and ridiculous fan edit videos everywhere.

But rather, in the crevices of Seoul, in the freshly cooked rice found at your favorite family restaurant, ready to serve piping hot meals with heaping portions of a mother’s love, in the off-key melodies sung unapologetically by a circle of children in the middle of the neighborhood park, not caring who’s there to witness, performing for any and all, in the rhythm of the city thrumming beneath your soles and at your fingertips, ready to sweep you off your feet if you gave it the chance.

You saw him everywhere.

That included your notification center.

[15:32] wzljh__ commented on your post—

Your vision blurred.

Was this what cardiac arrest felt like?

A comment? A comment? You were plenty satisfied with the likes on your post, but a comment meant direct interaction, not mindless scrolling and double tapping.

The ringing in your ears was prevalent and you knew for the sake of your body and soul, you needed to shut it all away.

You pushed aside the thoughts, compartmentalized like they taught you during your clinical therapy program, and shoved your phone far into the depths of your unorganized bag.

You breathed in.

You breathed out.

You had work to do.

──────────────────

“Hey, so, it’s noona’s birthday on Sunday—” 

“I know, Jihoon, you haven’t shut up about it for the past two weeks.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. But I’ve spent so long trying to find a gift for her and I still can’t find anything. Can’t you, just like, come with me to the market for the day? I’ve never spent so much time and effort trying to find a damn gift for a birthday before. I’ll buy us dinner and we can stop by that dessert stand with the black sesame soft serve.”

“I told you. I have college prep exams I have to worry about. You want to woo her? You can. Easily. Lee Jihoon, anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.”

He breathed out a long sigh. “...thanks, firefly.”

You gave a stiff nod before walking away, the singular cardstock invitation (since you only made one for him because he teased you endlessly for your homemade invitations in the fifth-grade and you committed yourself to spite him every year from then on) you scrawled a date on in two week’s time weighing heavily in your bag. You bit your bottom lip to try and prevent the tears from slipping.

Guess your birthday wasn’t worth putting time and effort in.

At least, that’s what you thought until you found a small package in your first-year high school locker on that fateful day, in two week’s time.

Inside a poorly wrapped box, you found a card and a keychain of three tiny medals: simply drawn hands interlocking at their pinkies, the infinity symbol, and a crescent moon.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you opened the card envelope slowly, afraid your shaking hands would accidentally tear apart the paper. The card was homemade and purposefully horrendous (he claims; although, knowing his crafting skills, you weren’t so sure) with his haphazard, yet endearing scrawl.

You read the words once. Twice. Three times.

Moved them away from your eyes so the tears wouldn’t fall and smudge them.

“I saw these charms two months ago and immediately thought of you.

You said anyone would be lucky to be loved by me.

Guess you’re a pretty lucky person.

Happy birthday, firefly.

- Jihoonie

P.S. I have a sun on mine, if you end up wanting to switch.”

And so you skipped the first ten minutes of your last class to fold in on yourself in one of the second-floor girls’ bathroom stalls. You muffled your cries against your sleeve because it’s just so utterly him that you couldn’t even think straight.

When he finds you after school, eyes puffed and disheveled, you half-expected him to comfort you, because it was your birthday and, to most people, that warranted special treatment.

Instead he laughed loudly at your tattered self, pinched your reddened nose with a grip you could say bordered on assault, and said, “Come on, let’s go get some cake and ice cream. I’ll pay.”

You glared at him. “You hate cake and ice cream.”

He merely grinned at you. “Not today, I won’t. You really are lucky to have me, aren’t you?”

Even with the way he teased you relentlessly for all seven blocks to the place you frequented when your pockets were lined with allowance, the dessert shop with the fresh cream green tea cake topped with fruit you knew Jihoon was gonna take when you weren’t looking, even with his eyes filled with mischief and cheeks filled with stolen strawberries, you couldn’t help but agree.

──────────────────

“He’s been pretty bold lately.”

You cocked your head to the side as you pulled your lunchbox out onto the cafeteria table. You spread the items out in an orderly fashion and Hyejin nearly sneered at the display, but you ignored her. “Hrm? What d’you mean?”

“I mean, he’s been liking more and more of your posts. He also commented today. Isn’t that bold? Considering you haven’t spoken in years? What happens if he’s just, I dunno, playing with you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Is it dumb to say that it’s just a gut instinct that everything is okay?”

“Again, what is the point of your higher education? Gut instincts aren’t exactly evidence-based.”

You unwrapped your sandwich and your eye twitched at the sauce that dribbled down. Damn. You could’ve sworn you had the right ratio this time. 

You took a bite, your tongue slipping out to catch the excess sauce. You chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the bread before you spoke.

“I dunno how to explain it, unnie. I know all of my observations have been just… through likely scripted scenes and concerts. And I know it’s dumb to think that he’s still the same kid from way back when, but even seeing him interacting with his members… It just seems like he’s happy. Not just the superficial kinda happy, but the everlasting contentment and joy kinda happy. So. I don’t think he’s going to ruin that by trying to dredge up stuff that could ruin it. Or plot revenge. I just... don’t sense any ill intentions. And I never have, even when all that shit happened.”

“Hm… I honestly don’t know the guy, but it does just sound like he made one choice in an unfortunate circumstance. Big decision in the midst of big emotions,” Hyejin murmured.

“So did I,” you said pointedly.

She smirked at that. “Yeah, but you ended up with me, so I’m okay with your choice. But, also maybe, I just trust your judgment a little too much. But, if you consider him as wonderful as you say he is, then. I believe you. Plus, I feel like his lyrics and videos that I’ve seen are proof that he’s not a complete piece of shit.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you for thinking he’s not the scum of the earth.”

“Yes. Just a rung above that. If I ever meet him, I’ll definitely punch him. For your honor.”

“Hah. Thanks, unnie. I’m sure that your stick arms will do a lot of damage.”

“Of course.”

The two of you laughed.

Hyejin hummed. “Do you ever blame him?”

“For what?”

“Leaving before you.”

You raised a brow as you set your sandwich down to bring your attention to your apple slices, peeled in a way to make them look like bunny rabbits. After dunking it into some peanut butter, you decapitated its head with your teeth. “Blame is a funny thing.”

“What d’you mean by that?”

“I mean, think about it, unnie,” you began. “Do I blame him for leaving when I was the one who decided to leave first?”

Hyejin clicked her tongue. “But he left without even saying ‘goodbye’ or even warning you.”

“Mm, yeah. But... I mean, do I blame him for leaving before me when he could blame me for deciding to leave first? Or do I keep going and blame him for making me fall in love with him or could he turn that around and blame me for having feelings in the first place? Do I go further and blame him for defending me from bullies in first grade or does he blame me by trying to become friends by giving him a seashell? Do I blame him for being born or does he blame me for the same thing? Blame is an endless cycle and trying to pin the entire thing on one person or one event is hard. At least, in this instance, you know? There wasn’t a clear cut perpetrator and victim here.”

Hyejin picked at her nails. “You really have a different kinda brain, don’t you, bumblebee?”

You chuckled. “It’s gotten me this far.”

A silence fell over the two of you as you stared at your bunny apple slices, eventually fed up at the odd number of them and choosing to sacrifice one to your stomach for the sake of your peace of mind. 

After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I used to be real angry with him.”

“Yeah, you told me you used to be a fiery little thing. Plus, I heard you blow up at that student athlete who was dishing out homophobic slurs near the Student Center. When you’re angry, whew. I wouldn’t ever wanna be caught in the crossfire.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, he would often be. I don’t think you can grow up with and know a person for, like, sixteen years and not ever be angry with them. Especially when that person is a prepubescent boy who knows all the little things that grinds your gears.”

“God forbid having feelings for men.”

“Women aren’t that much better,” you reminded Hyejin. She paused for a moment before agreeing to your sentiment. You knew too many of the silly arguments her and Wheein have had over the past two decades.

“Honestly, though. I think he’s one of the only people I ever felt safe enough to even be angry around. So, he usually got the brunt of it all. Honestly, he should’ve left me faster. I was a mess to deal with at the time.”

Hyejin pulled a face at your self-pity. You merely offered a small smile and she rolled her eyes. “So, you were still angry at him when we were at Yale?”

You swallowed another apple bunny. “Absolutely. Remember New York?”

“Which time?”

You snorted. “Specifically the one where we went during the Fourth of July. Where I had hook-ups after hook-ups and had to get a pregnancy test and an STD screening. Where we went bar-hopping literally every night because I wanted to drown in my sorrows. The one that you got on that stranger’s shoulders to shoot off an illegal firecracker.”

“The trip where you got so drunk, you screamed at a man that turned out to be a statue.”

“Hey, in my defense, he looked like an asshole.”

“I’m sure many people would agree with you that Christopher Columbus is indeed an asshole.”

You both laughed.

Your voice lowered to barely above a whisper, Hyejin physically needing to lean in to catch your words.

“I… was angry that he made promises he couldn’t keep. I was angry that he decided to walk out of my life without asking to even try. I was angry that he didn’t even care to ask why I was wanting to leave. That he didn’t care enough to want to know what I was doing. I was angry that he dropped me so fast. I was angry that he moved to Seoul as a last ‘screw you’ because he didn’t want to try and talk it out. I was angry that he was angry. But above all, I was angry at myself that it took me so long to let myself even feel the anger because I blamed myself for everything.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“At the time, I had a sixteen-year-old’s anger and heartbreak and a twenty-one-year-old’s body and ID. So, that anger manifested itself into drunken nights of hedonistic debauchery and cursing out loud for the first time ever, right at a statue of a colonizing murderer.”

You thought she would laugh at your phrasing, but instead, she merely took you in. You wanted to shrink back at her scrutinizing gaze.

“Does it still bother you?”

“...No, not really,” you admitted. “I just woke up one day and realized that I missed him so much more than I was angry at him. At me. Eventually the anger just kind of… faded. I mean, he was hurt when I left. And if he felt like I was leaving him, then it makes sense he would try to do the same in some kind of twisted adolescent retribution. I’m not saying that either of us deserved that kind of treatment, but I mean, we were sixteen and dumb. As a former sixteen-year-old, any kind of change felt like the world ending.”

“As a former sixteen-year-old, I would have to agree,” Hyejin nodded. “Do you ever regret it?”

You shoved another sliced apple into the peanut butter. This time, not picking it up. You stared down at it as you tried to formulate your thoughts. You replied softly after some time, “No.”

“Nothing?”

Your mind trailed back to the time you spent chasing your dream of studying abroad, establishing your place in the world without depending every little decision on him, running after dream after dream and fulfilling them through your own power and accord.

And you thought, as beautiful as the experiences were, you wished you could share the stories with him. He was always your best audience member, applauding your every word and exaggerated action. Sometimes laughing and jeering and heckling, but always, always, always attentive.

You chased your dreams. You always have.

All except one.

But it was okay.

Because he gave you so much more in those fleeting years than the world could ever have supplied in millions.

“No, nothing.”

────────────────── “Do you still love him?”

Hyejin watched you over the years. You grew and healed, evolved from a bumbling adolescent mess, bright-eyed and terrified, into a full-fledged woman who learned that all most had to offer was a quick fix and prolonged heartbreak. Someone who decided to be kind because she knew first-hand that the world was not. A woman who wanted to be a love letter from the universe. Someone so strong, yet so fragile to the workings of the world because you always allowed your heart to be vulnerable.

She never knew anyone who loved for the sake of loving.

Someone whose living was loving.

Not until she met you.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but it slowly curved at the ends. “I think I always will.”

Hyejin’s heart felt constricted in her chest; she wanted to scream at you to let go and to move on. Tell you that he wasn’t worth any of the heartbreak and pain and self-doubt.

But she knew. She knew looking into your eyes, that you loved him with a love that transcended the flimsy, insecurity-driven kind portrayed in romantic comedies or Korean television dramas.

Because although she saw your eyes rimmed with unbrittled heartbreak, she also saw the gratitude that overflowed from your irises.

Part of her still wanted to berate and chastise you and tell you to just move on.

But she remembered being on the receiving end of that. How her friends reminded her that to be in an unrequited love was never worth it and that there were plenty of fish in the sea and that she needed to move on because it was just sad.

She remembered how empty that left her, wanting to fill the cracks in her heart with her beloved, because that was always what Wheein would be to her, just as Jihoon would be to you. Hyejin had the privilege to call Wheein at any time, to hear her voice lull her fears and anxieties into soft understandings and warmth, warmth, warmth.

Everyone told her to walk away from all of that.

Not you.

You were the first one to sit with her, hold her hand, smile and remind her what she already knew, a resounding truth in the depths of her soul.

And so, she sat down with you on the edge of your bed, grabbed your hand, smiled, and reminded you of one of your favorite quotes: “What a privilege it is to love.”

A tear slipped past as you beamed. “And to be loved in return.”

“Even for a moment.”

“Even if it is not how we want.”

“Because, still, it is love.”

“And it is the one thing we will never be without.”

──────────────────

“Two more months,” Wheein muttered before quickly downing her soju shot, not waiting for anyone else at the table. “Two months. And we’re done. No more needing to prepare for a thesis defense. No more needing to sit next to a centrifuge for ten hours at a time. No more needing to read bullshit and selfish opinions on public forums. No more needing to sit next to that weird dude who always smells like he has an open wound that’s infected—”

“Wheein, sweetie, that’s too graphic,” Yongsun responded, bringing her choice of a virgin cocktail up to her lips.

Wheein merely took a swig of the beer next to her.

Byul-yi shot her a glare. “That’s mine.”

“She needs it more, unnie, trust me,” you replied on her behalf. Byul-yi gave you a warning glance that wordlessly said you defended Wheein too much, especially as someone who was younger. “To be honest, I think Hyejin-unnie and I need to catch up to where Wheein-unnie is.”

“No, you need to pace yourself carefully especially with soju because you end up drinking too fast and way past your limit before you even realize.”

“Yongsun-unnie, I know we dated when I was a young and unassuming first-year doctoral student who didn’t understand how to handle her alcohol, but that was the past. Let’s move on, shall we?”

“Hyejin told me you threw up just a few weeks ago.”

“Goddamnit, Hyejin-ssi,” you hissed in mock anger.

She snorted, seeing through your ruse. “Wouldn’t have mattered if she heard from me. Byul-unnie was the one who was holding your hair at the bar, so.”

“Is this how I’m repaid by setting you two up together? The constant risk of potentially being exposed by one or the other? The betrayal. When I introduced the two of you, mere weeks after Yongsun and I broke up, and you two were blatantly flirting in front of me–”

“We were not flirting,” they chimed in unison.

The rest of the table rolled their eyes.

Wheein huffed and whined into her arms, voice muffled against the table. “Y/N, you gotta find me someone.”

“You’ll see them if you just open your eyes. I’m sure of it. They’re right there. Just look in front of you, unnie.”

Hyejin pinched your thigh but you were used to her physical torture.

Wheein groaned loudly, sitting up, but still covering her eyes with her hands. Byul-yi nodded in apology to Hyejin who merely bit her lip.

Yongsun dissipated the tension for Hyejin.

By directing it towards you.

“Y/N, I saw that you posted on Instagram yesterday. The same post from the group home you volunteer for. You were asking for the support of the community, right? And just today, I saw there were a ton of comments on their public page.”

A lump lodged itself into your throat and you stared at her, lips parting but not making any sound.

She cocked her head to the side.

Hyejin rubbed your thigh soothingly with her hand. “Bumblebee didn’t realize that they were going to get that many comments on that post. Plus, uh, I think it was shared by that one singer? Bamsu?”

“Bumzu,” you corrected weakly. Jihoon’s partner-in-crime, or rather, music production.

“Yeah, uh. Him. I guess someone who knows the group home page somehow managed to get it circulated to where he saw it, and… yeah.”

Several other research fellows messaged you privately saying how exciting it was to get the attention your project needed. Your group organizer was saying that tens of calls were coming in at a time, asking how to best provide funding or resources.

You resisted the urge to spiral into oblivion because you knew only one (1) person who would be able to do such a thing.

Bumzu had transitioned from performer to writer/producer and usually had a hand in charity work, at least, over the past couple of years, according to a quick run through his Instagram feed. He wasn’t under the scrutinizing eye of Dispatch, at least, not as much as a certain thirteen-member idol group. His interest in this program didn’t warrant sasaeng fans who would try to track down the people who made the post.

It was the perfect cover up.

It’s not as though Bumzu did anything over the top. He simply reposted the group home’s post on his story, only available for 24 hours, but even then, that was enough time to garner attention.

The group home leader called and cried to you saying that God had really blessed you all.

You wondered whether you should tell her that you didn’t think God was 164cm with moonlit eyes that haunted you in your sleep.

──────────────────

[15:32] wzljh__ commented on your post: “this is some really cool stuff. do u mind if i share this?”

[19:22] You replied to wzljh__’s comment: “👍🏼 go ahead”

──────────────────

“Noona~”

“Choi Sannie~”

“I don’t appreciate the mockery~”

“Then get your ass to work~”

San snickered before undoing your haphazardly done ponytail and threading his fingers through your badly tangled hair. “You need to calm down. You have a meeting soon and you look like an absolute mess. So, I’ll at least braid your hair for you, mmkay, noona?”

“San, if you want to reduce my stress, I would appreciate it if you could go and run through the program schedule and let me know what doesn’t work—”

He tugged on your hair and you yelped.

“Noona.”

You leaned back in your chair to see him staring down at you. You grimaced at the fact that, even from this angle, his jawline was inhumanely sharp.

“No one is expecting you to run everything. We have group organizers for a reason. You’re just here to volunteer.”

“But I want to help. I’m responsible for getting the word out there. And I want to be able to make a difference for those in group homes—”

“You did. You helped me. Now I’m in a local college. Working as a barista. Volunteering in the same home I met you in.” Before you could cut him off, San continued, “You can take a break, noona. I’ve never seen you this stressed out before. And I’ve seen you literally down an entire six-pack of banana milk after eating two chocolate croissants.”

“They’re called pain au chocolat. They have to be in the shape of crescents to be called croissants.”

“No one gives a flying shit, noona.”

You gaped at him. “San! Who taught you to speak like that?”

“You did.”

You grumbled to yourself before reaching back for your Apple Pencil. San snuck his hand over your shoulder to pluck it out of your hand. “Hey!”

“Jinwoo wants you to sing him to sleep.”

Your heart ached as you stared at the screen in front of you. There was too much work to do and you couldn’t afford—

“Are you really cost-benefiting the effects of whether you sing a child to sleep right now?”

“...”

“God, what a professional. Where’s the noona that would sneak kids out to go catch dragonflies and then eat bungeo-ppang while washing it down with banana milk?”

“Are all of your memories of me associated with banana milk?”

“I remember what I remember, noona.”

“Why don’t you sing to Jinwoo?”

“Because he’s asking for that song that you sing; the one that only you know.”

You froze.

For some reason, Jinwoo, at the ripe age of eight months, established quite clearly what he liked and disliked, with the latter list nearly double the length of the first.

Every song you sang to him had its expiration date before he would take a metaphorical red Sharpie and cross it off of his likes list.

All except one.

You cursed yourself for singing it so long ago, caught up in exhaustion that you just wanted to quell the baby’s cries as soon as possible.

And so you procured a song that was gathering dust from being long ignored in the recesses of your mind.

You locked your iPad, gathered your stuff together to put away in your bag, slung it over your shoulder and made it up the stairway to where you knew Jinwoo would be.

You found him nestled in several blankets on the floor in the room meant for three-to-six year olds, convinced that the ground would be able to keep him steady unlike the volatile day-to-day he was thrown into since birth. Most of the other kids were out at the local school, but Jinwoo had a lower constitution than them, so would often stay at home. The home did its best to ensure that his schedule was tied with the other kids, including the midday nap.

His chocolate eyes looked up at you expectantly, his arms outstretched for you to envelope him in your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile down at him and scooped him up in one fell swoop. He giggled as you spun the two of you around the room.

You swaddled him as best you could, a three-year-old much larger than the eight-month-old you once knew him to be.

His hand pressed itself against your cheek and you nuzzled your face against its warmth.

“Ready to sleep, Jinwoo?”

“Will you sing to me? The forever song?”

“Yes. Of course.”

And so you did.

You sang to him a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.

──────────────────

May 26th.

You thought that date would forever ingrain itself as the day that he forcibly came back into your life by taking you and the rest of the world by storm alongside his group, singing of an awkward and clumsy adoration paired with a point choreography that was, well, pointing.

(At the time, you wondered whether she heard the song, the one you were sure it was written about. You never asked.)

But here you were, six years after his debut into the world as an idol, dressed in your regalia of indigo and black, full bell sleeves, velvet paneling, and a weird puffy hat to top it all off, debuting into the world as a Social Welfare PhD grad.

You were a whole ass doctor.

“WE’RE FUCKING DONE, BITCHES.”

“God, Wheein, can you calm down? We gave you that key for emergencies.”

“It’s an emergency that I don’t have a bottle of soju in my hand right now.”

Byul-yi patted Yongsun in hopes of appeasing her anger. “Remember when you finished your MBA and how that felt?”

Yongsun blinked once before pushing herself off of the couch. “Alright, so how many bottles am I pulling out?”

“Wait! Wait! Wait! We need a picture!” Hyejin chastised her childhood friend for taking off after Yongsun. “Bumblebee, come here. Wheein, you too!”

“Whose phone?” Byul-yi asked.

You all chorused your phone, handing her the latest model of iPhone. She wiggled her brows at you. “Looking for a sugar baby, mama?”

“Bold of you to assume that I’m not paying installments on that sleek piece of overpriced metal and glass.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a broke grad. Alright, alright. Okay, ladies. Now let’s get in formation. Wheein, brush your hair out of your face, you look like a mad scientist. Y/N, stop furrowing your brows like you’re reading those mean comments online. Hyejin, stand up straighter, you’re slouching—probably from bending over all the time—”

“Unnie!”

“Over your centrifuge, okay? Chill. Alright. 1, 2… 2 and a half.”

“How old are you? 50?”

“Alright, for that, you just got a burst. Y/N, I hope you find the ugliest gem in that to post.”

You and Wheein laugh at Hyejin who is now putting on her face of Disapproval and you imagine that Byul-yi is just now taking an endless amount of candids. You reach for the phone, a toothy grin still spread across your lips.

“Oop! Damn, this camera is nice. Don’t get too drunk otherwise you might accidentally drop it into my purse.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed at your phone. You swiped through the camera roll, finding too many of your face, especially when reaching for the camera, thanks to Byul-yi’s trigger happy thumb. However, you looked genuinely happy, so you couldn’t be too mad.

Maybe that’s because you were done slaving over papers and deadlines, you mused.

You showed Wheein and Hyejin the photos as well, refusing to delete the ones where Hyejin is pulling her signature face. You smiled down at your screen before pulling up Instagram to post a photo of all three of you (looking like baddies and not like the unhinged beings you usually are) on your story.

You figured you would post the professional photos you had done by Myungsoo at a later date.

You typed up a caption:

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

You locked your phone and tucked it away, ready to simply celebrate with your beloved group of girls.

That is, until two hours passed, which included a passed out Wheein cuddling into Hyejin on the couch and a drunk Yongsun and tipsy Byul-yi retiring to their own room and you sneaking into their second bedroom. You finally saw several responses to your story, mostly clapping and fire reactions and messages of well-wishes and pride. There was one handle that immediately caught your attention and you couldn’t help but think you were predictable in where your eyes always go.

[22:06] wzljh__ replied to your story: i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan

[22:08] wzljh__ replied to your story: sorry that was dumb of me to assume

[22:08] wzljh__ replied to your story: of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album

[22:15] wzljh__: sorry that was stupid

[22:15] wzljh__: ignore me

[22:15] wzljh__: congrats y/n

You checked the time stamps to see that the first three messages came in rapid succession. While the last three came less than ten minutes later, without the “replied to your story,” meaning he actively searched for your conversation in his DMs to send a message.

You wondered whether it was okay to respond. He initiated it, so you figured this was consensual on his end. But… would you be okay?

Lee Jihoon was the one you believed would always know how to crack the code to tear down the walls of your heart. The one for whom your heart would invite in, with offerings of warm tea and resounding laughter and requests to make himself at home in your messy, but safe, space. You were always so utterly bare in front of him that it was almost nauseating with how much trust you put into his hands.

Did he deserve that same trust after what transpired between the two of you?

Regret lives in the past. Anxiety lives in the future. But you lived in the present.

Present (tipsy) you said, “cute human messaged must respond”

You opened up the conversation. 

[23:16] You: alexa, play congratulations by day6.

[23:16] You: happy anniversary to svt!! 🥳 

[23:16] You: hope you’re having fun with the members!!

Immediately, Seen popped up on your screen.

Your breathing hitched as you saw those damned three dots. You really should ask your old Biology tutor why your chest felt as tight as it did. Or maybe Wheein would know the science as to why it felt like your brain was firing a million and one things but was also completely shut down.

[23:16] wzljh__: oh

[23:16] wzljh__: oh wow

[23:17] wzljh__: i didnt think u would know that

[23:17] wzljh__: thanks you

[23:17] wzljh__: thank uou*

[23:17] wzljh__: you* wow im genius

You giggled softly to yourself.

──────────────────

“You look like an oversized peach, but, like, not a nice one. One that fell off the kitchen counter and now has bruising forming.”

“You’re fucking rude.”

You tutted. “Jihoon, language.”

“One of these days you’re gonna drop the fuck word too.”

“Mmm. Nope.”

He grabbed at your cheek and pinched it softly. You made a dramatic display of faked annoyance. “You will. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be the first one to hear it, alright? I’m gonna hear the fuck word from the kid that everyone else is foolish enough to believe is entirely wholesome.”

“Um? But I am? So very wholesome?”

He barked out a laugh. “Sure. You got most people convinced, but I know you. You’re too fiery for your own good.”

“Oh, so you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Of course,” he replied in English, his words laced with his thick Korean accent. “I’m genius.”

You giggled before you corrected him. “‘I’m a genius.’”

He grinned. “We both can be.”

──────────────────

[23:18] You: the other caratdeul are posting it all over twitter so it’s trending, of course i would know that 😤 i’m in touch with the insiders nowadays

[23:19] wzljh__: the other caratdeul

[23:19] wzljh__: ??

You cursed silently. Did alcohol loosen your thumbs too? Is that possible? Would you remember these questions to ask Wheein later?

[23:19] You: uh, i’m also a carat? duh? have you /seen/ jeonghan-oppa’s visuals? 😍

[23:20] wzljh__: unfortunately every day

You laughed out loud at that.

You saw the three dots come. And then disappear.

You couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that hit, but you figured that he had his own celebration to do.

That is, until a video was sent from his end five minutes later.

You swore Lee Jihoon was going to be the cause of your death one of these days. 

You clicked on the video.

“Annyeong, Y/N-ah!!”

You balked at Yoon Jeonghan’s face grinning at the camera. What the frick.

“Jihoon told me that you graduated with your PhD today! Congratulations! Hanniehae!!”

Your heart burst at the sight.

God, Jeonghan was so cute. You so desperately wanted to be his friend when you first discovered SEVENTEEN, almost more jealous of Jihoon for being surrounded by twelve other fantastic human beings rather than the other way around.

[23:28] You: omg i’m gonna cry

[23:28] You: !!!! how!!!! is he!!!! so CUTE!!!!!

[23:28] You: this is the best grad gift ever

[23:29] You: my years of indentured servitude to SNU was worth it to just bear witness to that 🥰 i can die happily now; thank you yoon jeonghan for existing

[23:30] wzljh__: um excuse me who else

[23:30] You: and to lee jihoon for the provision and distribution of content: i shall remember your services

[23:30] wzljh__: i now owe ur “jeonghan-oppa” a new lego set just for that

[23:31] You: he’s cute when he goes on vlive and builds it so just think of it as an additional gift to me, ok

[23:31] wzljh__: no.

[23:31] You: 🙄 rude

[23:31] wzljh__: u owe me too now especially since u said i gave the best grad gift ever

[23:31] You: i’m!!!!!

[23:32] You: ok so technically no one else has given me a gift yet so you were just better than nothing 🤧

[23:32] wzljh__: yes thats always my goal. to be better than nothing

[23:33] You: 😂😂😂

[23:33] You: wait!!

[23:33] You: you can’t distract me!!

[23:33] You: gifts are exchanged for the sake of selflessness and glad tidings!!

[23:34] wzljh__: thats not what u said when u guilted me into buying u the cardcaptor sakura cards because u got me plushies of the straw hat crew

[23:34] You: i didn’t GET you them! i MADE them!! my craftsmanship and time are worth much more than the ccs cards!! equivalent exchange!!

[23:34] wzljh__: god u are such a weeb

[23:34] You: if you recognize my reference you’re not so innocent yourself

[23:34] wzljh__: …

[23:34] wzljh__: damn

[23:35] wzljh__: anyway u think ur craftsmanship is worth more than the $50 i dropped on those cards?

[23:35] wzljh__: u wanna tell that to chopper whose head was too big for his body and now looks as though hes in inexplicable pain??

You stared at the screen. What?

[23:35] You: ???? pics or it didn’t happen

[23:36] wzljh__: at the dorm

[23:36] You: !!!!! you still have them with you???

[23:36] wzljh__: yea? ofc lol

[23:37] wzljh__: they may be dopey but mostly dope

[23:37] You: bihhhhh

──────────────────

“Always remember this, Y/N.”

You swallowed the handful of popcorn you so elegantly stuffed in your mouth just seconds prior. “You always do this, Jihoon. You always wait until my mouth is full—”

“Good people watch anime.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay?”

“I’m serious. Don’t trust anyone who says that they don’t like anime, alright?”

“What, so, that’s a requirement for whoever I’m going to be involved with in the future?”

“Yes. How can someone be a bad person when they have Monkey D. Luffy to look up to?”

“Fair, but—”

“And if the person can commit to nearly a thousand manga chapters and over eight-hundred episodes, they can commit to you.”

For some reason, his logic overtook your own. You nodded in slow agreement. “I mean. You’re not wrong.”

“Of course not.”

“So, you’re saying I’d have to find my Luffy?”

He eyed you. “I think you’re more of a Nico Robin than a Nami, honestly.”

Your stomach flipped but you brushed aside the implications of his words.

And even years later, your first-date questions always included, ‘If you were a Straw Hat member, who do you think you would be?’

You had yet to find another Zoro.

──────────────────

[23:38] wzljh__: anyway u still owe me

[23:38] You: BIHHHHHHH

[23:39] wzljh__: ill let u know by the end of the week

[23:39] You: 🥺 do i not get a choice

[23:41] wzljh__: u always have a choice 

[23:42] You: hrmmmmmm then… i shall hear you out… maybe… perhaps… mayhaps

[23:42] wzljh__: always been a poet, since that second grade writing contest, havent u

[23:43] You: me? a poet? how about i quote one of the greatest poets of our generation

[23:43] You: ‘let’s have fun’

[23:43] wzljh__: …?

[23:44] You: ‘everyone stand up and clap’

[23:44] wzljh__: ok

[23:44] You: 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

[23:45] You: wait

[23:45] You: that’s one too many

[23:45] wzljh__: fake fan

[23:46] You: 😢 i come here and get bullied by a member of my favorite k-pop group

[23:46] wzljh__: favorite

[23:46] wzljh__: ?*

[23:46] You: asjdkksncsls yoinks

[23:47] You: i wish i could unsend messages

[23:47] You: or go back 3 seconds in time

[23:48] You: but what if i jump forward 10 seconds..

[23:49] wzljh__: HA

[23:49] wzljh__: alright u are at least a cubic if u watch gose

[23:50] You: 💖💙 it’s what pulled me thru my thesis

[23:50] wzljh__: lololol

[23:50] wzljh__: alright alright

[23:50] wzljh__: i gotta go soon

[23:50] wzljh__: but

[23:51] wzljh__: congratulations y/n

[23:51] wzljh__: seriously

[23:51] wzljh__: u do some amazing things

[23:52] You: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[23:52] You: thanks jihoon so do u

[23:52] You: oh wait i just remembered

[23:55] wzljh__: ?

[23:56] You: an amazing thing u did

[23:56] You: thanks for sharing the info abt the group home project!!

[23:58] You: i don’t think i can ever explain how grateful i am!! it went so smoothly because of the response from the surrounding communities

[00:00] You: and you didn’t need to share the information

[00:00] You: but you did

[00:00] You: and i just

[00:00] You: idk i’m really grateful

[00:02] You: anyway!!

[00:02] You: sorry

[00:03] You: oh wait i’m supposed to say thank you

[00:03] You: thank you thank you thank you

[00:03] You: thank you lee jihoon

[00:05] wzljh__: is it bad if i just send a 👍🏼

[00:05] You: you’re gonna ok, boomer me? and my authentic and genuine heartfelt words??

[00:06] wzljh__: 👍🏼

[00:07] You: ...i’m unsubscribing

[00:07] wzljh__: lolool

[00:07] You: 😭😭😭

[00:08] wzljh__: still a crybaby

[00:08] You: more like crylady

[00:09] wzljh__: i suggest u never say that ever again

[00:10] You: yep noted i regretted it as soon as i hit send

[00:10] wzljh__: looooollll

[00:11] wzljh__: ill let u know what i expect for my equivalent exchange

[00:12] wzljh__: i need to consult with my lawyers on what exactly i can get away with

[00:12] You: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[00:12] wzljh__: i can hear that message and i dont get how

[00:13] You: i’m gonna d word 😭

[00:13] wzljh__: not until i get my gift lol anyway ill message u by the end of the week

[00:14] You: ok 😞 fine

[00:14] You: you’ll message me?

[00:14] You: 🤙🏼?

[00:15] wzljh__: lolollllllll thats not a pinky promise emoji

[00:16] You: don’t care!!!

[00:16] wzljh__: lollll still so stubborn

[00:16] wzljh__: okay fine

[00:17] wzljh__: 🤙🏼

[00:18] wzljh__: goodnight y/n sleep well

And so you did.

You dreamt of crescent moons, steady heartbeats, gentle melodies, and open arms.

And falling, falling, falling.

──────────────────

Five weeks.

Four interviews.

Three community project ideas.

Two job offers.

One major minor meltdown.

Zero Instagram messages.

Not that it particularly mattered when your entire future was splayed out right in front of you.

“So… you either stay in Seoul…” Hyejin began.

“...or I move to New York,” you finished for her.

“...okay, but like, what is even over there?”

“Unnie.”

“I know it’s your favorite city in the world—”

“Strongly so.”

“And they have Broadway—”

“An absolute treat.”

“And you’d be lecturing at Columbia—”

“The first Social Work university in America and most prestigious school in said field.”

“But I’m not there!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Hyejin’s pout. “Unnie, you and Wheein were already talking about living together next year because you’re both heading over to Jeju!”

“Which is the same time zone as Seoul! AKA, I can call you at any point I want—”

“We both know that’s not true even if we were in the same time zone.”

“...okay, touché. But! Are you really going to move halfway across the world? Again?”

“I enjoyed my time at Yale!”

“Bumblebee, you left Korea because you were running away from something. Someone. Are you sure you’re not leaving Korea for the same reason?”

“...Unnie, I love New York.”

──────────────────

“Doesn’t this city just reek of anxiety?”

You ignored her and instead took in the hustle and bustle of the streets around you. The neon signs of overpriced bags just begging to be haggled, the misogynistic advertisements of computer-generated women overhead, unassuming hot dog stands and bodegas whose businesses depended entirely on locals, live music found on nearly every street corner, committed to entertain in order to survive.

This city was the physical manifestation of everything right and wrong with humanity.

Bodies close. Minds worlds away.

The perfect place for someone like you.

“So full of life.”

Hyejin looked at you. Her face softened once she caught a glimpse of the glimmer of light she always saw in passing.

She hoped it would return for the long-term.

“Yeah, bumblebee. Full of life.”

She promised herself that she would take you every year from then on.

Your first trip was during the nipping frost of winter, filled with artificial twinkling and overconsumption of goods; the holiday cheer dampened by the cold reality that heartbreak and loneliness were inevitable byproducts of the season.

Your second trip was in the welcoming arms of autumn, decidedly going upstate for one day; the leaves faded into reds and golds, apples ready to be picked to be baked into a sweet pie, accompanied by the warmth of spiced cider and slow healing found in vulnerability wrapped in double crochet blankets and friendship.

Your third trip was during the sweltering heat of the summer, bad decisions and dangerous impulsivity. Late night drives of yells and whoops echoed into the Lincoln Tunnel with the wind rushing through your hair. The invincibility of youth and rekindling of the burning fire you thought was long gone.

Your fourth trip was in the blossoming of springtime, maturation of seeds sown and bountiful harvests. Gentle breezes and flowy dresses. Picnic baskets and overpriced coffees. The unspoken connection of humans collectively sitting in Central Park enjoying the gift of now, thankful to be alive.

As the seasons changed, so did you.

──────────────────

“But,” Hyejin started, exasperation already apparent in her tone. “Come on, bumblebee.”

Annoyance flared up. “What?”

“You’re thinking about running away again.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hyejin rolled her eyes at you and you could feel the simmering anger building in the pit of your stomach. You tried to quell it down with breathing, but you still felt the flames lick at your insides. “Jihoon just started messaging you again and you’re off here just thinking about fleeing the country. Again.”

“This has nothing to do with him.”

“I think it has everything to do with him.”

“I’m not some lovesick puppy who can’t make her own decisions, unnie. I applied to Columbia because I thought that it would be an amazing opportunity to be an assistant professor. Do you know how many PhD grads get to score a job like that right out of graduation?”

“Oh, yes, we get it, Y/N. You’re always cream of the crop. Top of your class. Always pursuing something bigger and better than what we mere humans can provide.”

Your jaw dropped. “What the hell?”

“You were offered a full-ride to NYU for your PhD, but you declined it because you didn’t want to, and I’m quoting you here, ‘dirty your healing place.’”

“Things change, unnie.”

“No, you’re just fucking scared.”

Rage filled you. “You don’t know me. You think you have me all figured out, but you’re just projecting onto me because you, for one, are constantly running away from your own feelings for Wheein! You wanna know who’s scared? It’s not me. Because I make my choices and I don’t regret them. Can’t say the same for yourself, huh?”

You grabbed your belongings and stomped out of your shared living space, slamming the door behind you, the beating in your chest ringing in your ears with a resounding thump, thump, thump.

Part of you wondered if the reason you snapped was because she was right.

Maybe partially.

But you also knew that you hated being carved and molded into what people perceived you as.

And she perceived you as something you were not.

Your happiness wasn’t reliant on him. You were a wholly and complete person without him. You knew that. You found that Truth long ago. You proved that through the years of work you put in; years that Hyejin witnessed herself.

So, it felt like a backhanded slap when it felt like she saw the girl you were when she first met you. As though you didn’t put in the effort to take the course of your life into your hands and crafted it to be the way that it is now.

You were a whole person.

She never said you weren’t.

You tried to pull out your car keys from your bag but struggled to find them in the midst of your frustration. You growled before giving up, stomping your way down the now dimly lit streets, the sky never quite achieving a pitch black, with the light pollution of the city. Stars were nowhere in sight, but the moon hung low near the horizon.

You found yourself walking (nearly stomping) for almost an hour as different voices argued in your mind. You were several blocks away from your home now.

She overreacted.

She’s just worried about you.

She didn’t have to be.

She probably doesn’t want you to experience the heartache that she’s seen you go through.

She was treating you like a child.

Because she loves you. And love makes you do crazy things sometimes. Like yelling at your best friend. Or flying halfway across the world.

You groaned inwardly.

God! Why did you have to have a conscience?

You said some pretty shitty things to someone who may have not portrayed her care in the best way, but tried to anyway. She gathered the courage to try and challenge you and you blew her off by rubbing salt into her own wound.

She wasn’t right.

But neither were you.

You felt the wash of shame come over you as you twiddled with your bag’s strap, trying to muster up the determination you needed to trudge back down and apologize.

“Oh, thank God, bumblebee.”

You pivoted your entire body at your unnie’s voice, wanting to shrink back at noticing the redness in her skin and puffiness under her eyes, even in the faint light of the street lamps. She looked so frazzled, her flip-flops nearly hanging off her feet from what looked like running around trying to find you. “Unnie, I—”

“I know you said you don’t like apologies, so I’ll say thank you instead. Thank you for your honesty, even if it was really mean. Thank you for listening to me, at least the beginning. Thank you for getting angry because I know that’s really fucking hard for you to do so and I feel weirdly honored but also still spooked by it. Thank you for not driving, especially this late and on a weekend when you’re upset—”

Your heart sank at the memory of Hyejin recounting her story of losing her friend to a drunk driver, something Hyejin felt immensely (and irrationally) responsible for, having been the person to last send her off.

You had forgotten about that.

Here you were, trying to figure out how you were going to apologize, and here she was, worrying about whether you were going to come back to her at all. You bit your lip before you piped up, “I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

“Yeah, well, I was right. I learned that I never want to be caught in the crossfire. Your anger is terrifying. You’re not a bumblebee; you’re more like an agitated hornet. With a gun.”

“Unnie—”

“I’m not done. I don’t know how to process my emotions like you do so I didn’t really think before I came running after you. I’m still hurt and mad that you said all of that shit—”

“I was wrong,” you interrupted. She went quiet at that. “I don’t know everything. I hardly know anything. But what I do know is that I was wrong. I said some things that I knew were going to hurt you because that’s what I wanted to do. I was wrong. But... so were you, unnie.”

She remained silent, so you continued.

“I’m not that same, young, dumb teen that you met at Yale. I’m not the brat who was still trying to figure out how to be her own person without being an off-brand version of all of her friends from Busan. I’m… I’m not weak, unnie.”

“I… I never said you were.”

You wondered when you started crying. “Yeah, well. It felt like you didn’t believe in me. That you didn’t trust me. You are the only person in my life who saw all of the changes I went through and you still said I was running away. So, it just made me think that all of my growth was… I don’t know. Fake.”

“What? No. Oh, bumblebee. Never.”

“I’m… I’m my own person. Who can make her own decisions. I don’t need anyone else to complete me. So, there’s no one and nothing that I’m trying to run away from. I’m just trying to figure out where I want to go. Is that so bad?”

“...No. Not at all,” Hyejin answered softly. She slowly stepped towards you and tentatively wrapped her arms around your torso. You leaned in and breathed in her scent, muffling your sniffling against her shoulder. “You were right that I confused the woman you are now with the girl you were then. But I’ve never ever seen you as weak. Or incomplete. Not then, not now.”

“Then why?” You sobbed. “Why do you think my life revolves around him? Anyone else can think I’m some love-struck dumbass, but why you?”

“Oh, bumblebee, I fucked up when I said I thought it had everything to do with him. I definitely… projected. Like you said. As much as I hate to admit it. But... I also want you to know that I don’t see you as some sad girl who’s been pining after some crusty dude. I see a woman who has gone around the world, fallen in love with it and its people, and still knows exactly with whom she feels safest. And I don’t want you to deny yourself of that.”

“I’m not denying myself anything. He doesn’t love me, unnie. So, I have to be the one to do it. Because he won’t. And that’s okay. I’ve learned to love myself and isn’t that good enough?”

Hyejin squeezed you tighter in her embrace. “Call me crazy, but… I think there’s something there. Call it a spark. Call it a string of fate. Call it a grown love. But… ah. I’m not good with words like you, bumblebee. You are good enough. Just as you are. Wonderful, even. I… I’m not saying he’s a missing piece of you or anything like that. But. Agh. Like. He is bread. And you are butter. You’re both complete by nature and can exist without each other, but you’re just… better together,” she tried to hold her tongue, but you knew her resolve was weak, so you braced yourself. “Butter together.”

“...unnie, you really are bad with words.”

You yelped when she grabbed at you to pinch your thigh.

She promptly turned the two of you around back to your apartment, her arm looped around yours. You easily walked past your building, though, caught up in smoothing out the harsh lines said during your earlier conversation. She admitted her fears regarding pursuing her own unrequited love and you confessed you often chased things that were of grandeur rather than that of simplicity. And you both touched on exactly the roots of your insecurities: hers in her fear of being unwanted and yours in the idea that you were incomplete without him.

The two of you found yourselves swinging at a neighborhood park that probably closed several hours ago, but it was a safe space for the two of you, to air out the tension, to have the beginnings of healing and mending, although most of it being left to time and future efforts of rebuilding trust.

Together.

──────────────────

[19:21] wzljh__: this might be a dumb question but did ur kkt account change

[19:21] wzljh__: i tried messaging u and it said delivered but

[19:21] wzljh__: nvm u dont have to reply sorry

[19:42] You: omg

[19:42] You: jihoon i made a new account bc my username was @narutofanfreak123 and i couldn’t bear to tell people that was my username but i didn’t know how to change it LOLLL

[19:43] You: so i made a new account once i came back to korea!!

[20:01] wzljh__: i

[20:01] wzljh__: i shouldve asked

[20:02] wzljh__: i thought u werent replying because u were busy with job searching since u were posting about it on ur story

[20:02] wzljh__: or maybe u didnt want to talk to me 😣

You rubbed your eyes in disbelief.

Jihoon used an emoji?

[20:05] You: oh no lol i already got offers

[20:05] You: still deciding between two of them

[20:17] wzljh__: before u tell me whats ur username on kkt?

[20:18] You: oh yeah!

[20:18] You: oh

[20:18] You: uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[20:18] wzljh__: ???

[20:19] You: haha

[20:19] You: ok so

[20:19] You: uh

[20:19] wzljh__: are u ok???

[20:20] You: yeah! haha

[20:20] You: welp

[20:20] You: it’s @madamefirefly

[20:20] You: heh

Lee Jihoon (@wzljh__) added you on KakaoTalk! You accepted Lee Jihoon’s request!

[20:23] Lee Jihoon: nice username

[20:23] You: thanks it was inspired by someone who used to bully me as their pastime

[20:25] Lee Jihoon: sounds like u were a masochist

[20:25] You: 🙄🙄🙄

[20:25] You: nice username

[20:25] You: sounds like it was randomly generated off of a sketchy site on naver that just so happened to have your initials

[20:26] Lee Jihoon: that ‘sketchy site’ somehow managed to predict the initials of my english stage name

[20:27] You: that was easily!!!! within your control to manipulate, woozi-ssi!! it should technically be uji!!

[20:27] Lee Jihoon: no that site knew my future and spoke to me

[20:28] Lee Jihoon: speaking of futures

[20:28] Lee Jihoon: whats coming up on the y/n agenda

[20:29] You: oop sorry hyejin-unnie is back home and i promised we would get dinner together so i might not respond until later

[20:30] You: but i’m deciding between staying here in seoul to continue the work i’ve been doing and being an assistant professor at columbia university in new york city!!

[20:30] You: although i’m def leaning more towards one than the other

[20:30] You: ack she’s yelling at me to hurry sorry i’ll ttyl!!

[Read at 20:30]

──────────────────

 Your phone rang.

You saw the FaceTime ID and never slid the bar faster than you did in that moment.

“Unnie! I—oh God, is that a wedding dress—oh my, oh no, the tears—”

One of the most beautiful laughters of your childhood rang out as she flipped the camera back to her face, stained from salty tears already passed. “Oh, lovebug—” Your lips split into a wide grin at the childhood nickname. “I think this is the one. I needed to show you. What do you think?”

“Hold on, I’m crying so hard that I can’t see—”

337.1km away, your future family member (although, one could argue she always had been) burst into a renewal of joyful tears, so exuberantly over-the-moon to share this moment with you, and you sharing the same exact sentiment to be able to bask in the joy of a promised love.

“Unnie,” you said emphatically. “You are… so beautiful. So stunning. So radiant. So dazzling. My goodness me. You are… just so splendent.”

She hiccuped. “Lovebug, no one uses that word anymore.”

“I had to go back to words of old to explain myself because language oft fails me when I see you.”

“Stop. God, you and Jihoon both with your ability to speak. How do words even come out of you two like that?”

You made a noise.

You don’t think she caught it.

“Y/N, you are sunshine personified, so to hear you say that makes me feel like I’m being blessed by Amaterasu herself.”

“I wouldn’t want to go lock myself in a cave.”

“Then don’t, lovebug,” she said dismissively. “Plus, you can’t. The bachelor and bachelorette party is gonna be in Seoul and you promised you would be there.”

“Yes, yes. To help me get blackmail on everyone else in case they try to turn on you later. You’re using me, you know?”

“You’re a useful person.”

You clicked your tongue. “So I’ve been told.”

A comfortable silence passed between the two of you before she broke it, a slight hesitation in her tone.

“So… turns out that Jihoon’s gonna be at oppa’s bachelor party. Oppa asked him to perform and he said no because of his schedule, but he said he would be at the wedding. And the bachelor party.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that. He was willingly going to the party and the wedding of the man who stole the love of his life away from him? “Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Huh. Weird.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s coming to the wedding. I know you don’t want to see him, but—”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Uh, you literally went across the world to avoid him—”

“Why does everyone think that? No, don’t worry about me, unnie. It’s fine.”

You didn’t look directly at the screen but you could feel her stare boring into the side of your face through it. She thought you were lying. But you weren’t. It wasn’t about you.

“Lovebug—”

“He texted me.”

Your words stunned her into silence.

That is, until she went rapid-fire.

“Oh my God. What? How? When? Did you reply? Was it an emergency? Did you have a conversation? Was it a casual conversation? How long? Oh, thank goodness—”

“Whoa, whoa, chill out, unnie. Wait. Why do you look happier now than you did when you were showing me your wedding dress? Wait. Aren’t you at a boutique right now? Don’t you have your mom waiting or something—?”

“Shush, I’m asking the questions around here.”

And so, you answer them. You told your future family, your confidant, your safe space. You told her of the accidental like, the off-chance comment, the purposeful messages, and everything caught in between.

337.1km away and you felt right at home.

──────────────────

“Y/N?”

You knew that voice anywhere.

Of course she was here, of course she was. This was one of your collective dreams, two girls fantasizing about inebriated situations and uninhibited fun by means of burning liquids in a local Busan bar. A dream of spending a night here, sharing a story for every shot.

You learned a year prior that you would really only be able to tell two stories before wanting to quit.

“Oh… hey, unnie.”

“You’re… you’re back.”

You forced out a laugh. “Yeah, I, uh. Graduated.”

“From Yale.”

“Uh… yeah. From Yale.”

“Can… I sit here?”

You glanced up at her before gesturing to the seat in front of you, the corner booth really far too large for your person. You could almost see the thoughts that raced in her mind before she gave a small nod and sunk down into the cushion.

“So, how have you—”

“I heard you—”

“Oh, no, you go—”

“Oh, sorry, I just—”

You both locked eyes.

And promptly burst into a fit of laughter.

“God, what is this?” You managed to get out, holding your stomach.

She was no better, in her signature hiccuping stage. “I just—!”

“We have the communication skills of five-year-olds.”

She wiped away a stray tear. “We’ve become a drama.”

“I call being the second-male lead.”

“Wait, that’s not fair. We all know that the second-male lead is objectively better.”

“That’s exactly why, unnie,” you winked.

She scoffed. “Alright, I’ll give it to you this time, lovebug.”

You saw her freeze, as if she didn’t expect herself to call you by that nickname. She looked like a deer caught in headlights and you quickly gave her a wave of your hand. “You spent more years calling me that than you did my actual name. Let’s not break the trend now, yeah?”

She visibly relaxed and you couldn’t help but smile fondly.

A lull passed over you, but you felt much more comfortable with this silence than the strained one prior. You closed your eyes and simply took in the moment, gratitude filling your lungs.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes fluttered open. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m sorry that you had to leave because of me—”

Oh.

That was heart wrenching to hear.

The apology signified a wound, an old one.

A self-inflicted one.

Oh no.

“Unnie,” you began slowly, reaching for her hands. You could see the tears brimming. “Do you… do you blame yourself for my decision? Has guilt been eating at you all of these years?”

“I just… you left. Jihoon left. If I had just said something, then—”

“Unnie.”

She bit her lip at your definitive tone.

“Nothing, nothing, about this was your fault.  Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t mine and it wasn’t his either. We all struggled to ‘just say something’. Unnie, we were young and dumb. We still are young and dumb,” you squeezed her hands for emphasis. “If you say you’re sorry, then okay. I forgive you. But I just want you to know that past me never blamed you. Never.”

She let out a choked sob and you found yourself crossing to the other side of the table, enveloping her in your arms, tucking her head under your chin. She buried her face into your chest and you just rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for never reaching out. I’m sorry I never cleared the air. I’m sorry I was so scared.”

“We needed time and space apart, unnie. To figure ourselves out. And I did. I really did. And I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I kept tying my self-worth into Korea, into Busan, into you, into him. But that doesn’t mean I cut you off in order to do it. I don’t think I ever could,” you squeezed tighter. “Thank you for saying that you’re sorry, but there really is no need, not to me.”

And so she cried into your arms, emptying herself of tears. Later, you filled that space with your stories of adventure, your kind words, and your love. And she did the same for you.

In that moment, Busan never seemed so much more like home.

──────────────────

“So, New York, huh?”

You glanced up at your boss, the social worker in charge of running the different programs tied to the university, the same one who got you involved with the group home, the same one who offered you a full-time position after graduation in training new recruits, specializing in the Child and Family division, but also providing self-care guidance to the rest of the staff since your specialty in school was around Behavioral and Mental Health.

The pay was good, seeing as it was run by professionals partnered with SKY: Seoul National University, Korea University, and Yonsei University. What most Koreans would consider to be the ‘Ivy League’ of South Korea. Although, being a community leader was definitely a far-cry from a prestigious position as an assistant professor.

“Ah. Yeah, New York.”

“Nice place.”

“It’s… yeah. It’s nice.”

“Is the air better there than here?”

“No fine dust, but there’s a lot of smog.”

She pulled a displeased face. “Is that better?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. You wanted to reduce into a puddle and slip through the vents, dreading this conversation.

“You should go.”

Uh. What?

You parroted those exact words out loud.

“I may have lost some of my mind’s sharpness to age and time, but if I remember correctly, New York City is one of the most popular places in the world. And I hear that it would be a good place for a young, spry lady like you to get your bright mind out there. The world needs a little more of you and if New York City is the best way to do it, so be it.”

“I’m… I’m…”

“A wonderful human being who will make the most of the hand that she’s dealt. I’ve seen you make castles out of cardboard.”

“You… you want me to go to New York?”

“Oh, Heavens no. Not at all. I would love to just keep you here forever,” she sighed, going so far as to lean back in her desk chair. You resisted the urge to laugh at her theatrics. “But you’re not a princess locked up in a tower. You have the power to make your own choice, and I know that whichever path you go down, it will be a flowery one. You’ll make it one. Because that’s just what you do, Y/N.”

“What if… What if I’m not sure?”

She tilted her head back down to meet your eyes and gave you a smile that was slightly off-putting, as though you had fallen into a trap she carefully laid out. “Then, what can I do to convince you to stay here?”

“I think a part of me thinks I’m wanting to stay here because I’ve found my home here. I think I’ve become incredibly comfortable here. In Korea.”

She blinks at you. “Is… that a bad thing?”

“I think... I think that I’m wanting to stay here because I love it here and the work I do and the people I’ve met, but I think I’m wanting to leave because I’m trying to prove that I’m not tied down to a particular person. Because I feel like everyone thinks that I can’t live my life without them, so I want to prove that I can do it. That I will.”

“So… you’re trying to prove that you’re not influenced by said person, by, uh, being influenced by said person?”

“Uh.”

“‘Uh,’ indeed.”

“What if… I’m staying here because I subconsciously think that everyone is right? That I actually can’t live without them? Not actually?”

“Is that person me?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I’m a little hurt you answered that so quickly, but. To prove my point. You are here, in my office, yes?”

“Yes…?”

“Are they?”

“No…?”

“Then. You’re living without them, aren’t you? Right here. In front of me. Heart pumping out blood through your veins and your brain shooting off neurons. You’re alive. Without them.”

“It’s… it’s a little different, Doctor, I—”

“Y/N. You’re dazzling. Almost overwhelmingly so. There is no one. No one who can overshadow you in the way you think they can. No matter what underlying influences, no matter what puppetry you may think is going on, you call the shots. You get to decide what to include in your life moving forward. If this person has as much power as you think they do over you, I’d like to meet them. Because you’re a force to be reckoned with.”

You bit your lip. “Is… Is it okay to be so selfish?”

“You said so yourself, Y/N. You found a home here. Or more like, knowing you, you built a home here. Korea will forever be marked by you. Seoul. Busan. Everywhere you’ve gone. That’s something that the majority of the world cannot say, because everyone feels a little lost, a little out of place. But you? No. You have a place. Right here. And, I mean, even at the end of the day, if you go off somewhere else, you’ll always have a place to return to that will welcome you with open arms.”

“Doctor, I…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“...I think I wanna stay.”

“Perfect. I’ll have them write up your contract.”

──────────────────

[04:12] Lee Jihoon: i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am

[4:12] You: i still have the sleep schedule of a doctoral student, you know

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: oho i see

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: and u still owe me a gift, doctor

[4:12] You: 🥴🥴🥴 i thought you forgot

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: never

[4:13] You: ok lee jihoon, what do you want?

[4:13] Lee Jihoon: can i call u

[4:13] You: ? sure?

Before you could even type, ‘is something wrong?’, his name and profile picture (which wasn’t even of him, it was that dumb photo of Hansol) flooded your screen. Your finger slid across before you could even give a second thought.

“Um. Hello?” Silence met your ears. You wondered whether the call actually went through. You pulled the phone away from your cheek and pressed ‘speaker’. “Jihoon…?”

“Ah, sorry. Yes. Wow. Hi.”

You knew speaker was the better option. Hearing his voice that close to your ear would have given you heart palpitations, or at least, worse than what was already happening. “Yes, hello yourself. Did you need something?”

“Huh?”

“You called?”

“Oh. Yeah. No. I just. Wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything. I think staring at a screen would’ve made me fall asleep faster, but I wanted to talk. To you. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s okay.”

You heard him release a sigh of relief (?). “Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”

You hummed, realizing there was a chance he didn’t exactly prepare conversation topics. “I decided to stay in Seoul.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. My boss here convinced me.”

“Tell them thank you.”

You snorted. “It wasn’t hard to.”

“Columbia is a pretty prestigious place, though.”

“Huh. How’d you know that?”

“Might’ve asked Hansol and Jisoo-hyung.”

You clicked your tongue. “Jihoon, just because they’re American doesn’t mean—”

“Nope. That’s exactly what it means.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Okay, okay.”

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

“Uh—what?”

“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea. You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even bigger school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So. I’m proud of you.”

Your throat felt tight. “It’s not that big of a deal—”

“But it is, firefly.”

Oh, that nickname. “I mean, I just—”

“You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”

“Jihoon, I—”

“I’ve missed you.”

Before you could even make a noise (not that you could), he continued.

“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls. And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle go down. That kind of stupid.”

You couldn’t form words.

But you tried.

“I… I missed you too.”

You could’ve sworn you heard utter satisfaction in his voice. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”

“Okay.”

“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”

“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”

His laughter rang throughout your empty room and your chest tightened.

“Alright, we’ll go with just firefly then.”

Tears formed in your eyes at the ‘we’. You felt like you were fifteen and back in your childhood bedroom, after a long, long hours, ending your night by telling him about your day. The words you denied yourself for years tumbled out of your mouth, “Night, night, Jihoonie.”

A low chuckle met your ears.

“Sleep well, firefly.”

──────────────────

“He fucking booty called you?”

“Unnie, that’s not—”

“Nuh-uh, bumblebee. Any call past 3am is a fucking booty call.”

“So, when you called me past 3am, it was a booty call? I feel violated.”

“Time zones, Wheein. Doesn’t count,” Hyejin said dismissively.

Wheein puffed out her cheeks and stabbed the salad in front of her, piercing a lettuce leaf. You wanted to laugh at her infantile display, but you knew that would only result in her turning against you. And Hyejin was already a formidable opponent.

“He’s an idol,” you repeated for what seemed like the millionth time. “His rehearsal didn’t end until 3am.”

“He didn’t even tell you what he wanted for a gift,” Wheein interrupted.

“Yeah, what the hell is that about?” You muttered, turning back to your own plate of fries. You chewed on one thoughtfully as you made eye contact with Hyejin who gave you a deadpanned look. “What?”

“God, you two are dense, aren’t you?”

“Um, rude?”

“The phone call was the gift,” Hyejin explained.

“What a shitty gift.”

“Yeah, what? I would’ve asked for, like, Y/N’s homemade japchae.”

“Or my kimchi jjigae.”

“Or her dwaejigogi-bokkeum—wait. Stop distracting me,” Hyejin shook her head. “Regardless, bumblebee. He called you and that was his gift.”

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous notion. “Sure, Jan.”

“Don’t make Brady Bunch references at me. We’re not American.”

“No, but we do use the internet,” you reminded her. “Anyways, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ve got other things to worry about. Like the fact that my cousin and his fiancée are coming in about a week and they want to get dinner together before they get shit-faced over the weekend. My only task is to gather blackmail material whenever the bachelorette happens with her friends.”

“Sounds like my kind of job.”

“Yes, Wheein-unnie, it really does.”

“Aren’t you gonna see him then?”

“Who? Jihoon?”

“Yeah, like. Aren’t you gonna see him next week? Isn’t he in your cousin’s bachelor party troupe or whatever the hell it’s called?”

You cocked your head to the side. “I don’t think I’ll see him? I shouldn’t see him. I think they’re gonna be in a different part of Seoul.”

“Huh. That would’ve been cool, though.”

“What?”

“You know that scene in dramas, where the main characters meet each other again for the first time in a long time and it’s all fuzzy and slow motion and there’s music playing in the background?”

“That’s—what? No. That doesn’t actually happen in real life, unnie.”

Hyejin pursed her lips. “Sure, Jan.”

──────────────────

“Ladybug!”

“Move aside, second-rate, that’s my lovebug.”

Your unnie ran into your open arms after she shoved her fiancé aside. You laughed at his crestfallen face but squeezed your future family as tight as you could. She squealed at your strength but nuzzled her face into your neck anyway.

“She’s… she’s my cousin, you know.”

“Yeah, but she chose me, which means that she likes me more. Chosen family is always better.”

“What? No—”

“She’s right, oppa,” you quipped. “Chosen family is always better. Has Lilo and Stitch taught you nothing?”

“I—you two always do this. You two always gang up on me and Jihoon, and—”

“Our table is ready, oppa. Let’s go take a seat.”

“For once, can you two listen to me, please?”

“He’s asked that before, unnie.”

“And we abided at that one time, right, lovebug?”

“Yes. He said to listen for once and we did.”

“Once only means one time, am I wrong?”

“No, unnie, you’re not.”

“God, forget it. Where’s the damn table? I need a drink.”

The two of you laughed at your cousin’s outburst and retreating figure as you both linked arms to follow after.

──────────────────

One appetizer in, you swirled the lemonade in your hands, appreciating the visible pulp as an indicator of its freshness. Your cousin, on the other hand, was several beers in, face slightly flushed, a permanent lazy grin plastered on his face.

“Wow, I’m surrounded by my two favorite girls—”

“What about your mom?”

“Or your dog?”

“Or Jennie from Blackpink?

“Or Zero Two from Darling in the FRANXX?”

“Oh God. He watched Darling in the FRANXX?”

“Ugh, yes, lovebug, let me tell you—”

“ANYWAY. YEAH. MY TWO FAVORITE GIRLS.”

The two of you snickered at his outburst. Your cousin’s phone pinged and he shielded it from you, squinting like an old man, staring at the screen with a tilted head. “Oh, hey, he’s five minutes away.”

You made an inquisitive sound. “Who?”

The two of them exchanged nervous glances, your cousin visibly swallowing.

Your unnie was the one who decided to speak up.

Because they knew you wouldn’t ever get mad at her.

Oh no.

“I know we didn’t give you the time to prepare, but we thought that you would’ve run away if we told you earlier, but Jihoon is coming here and—”

You could see her mouth move but you only heard a dull ringing.

You tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Wait.

Could you even speak? Where was your mouth again? Did it even move? What was happening? Where were you? Who were you?

“Y/N.”

You thought you felt a hand place itself on your shoulder. You turned to the sound source. “Yes?”

“Are you breathing?” “I think so.”

Your vision focused enough to recognize the looks of concern from the two seated at the booth.

Your heart sank. Oh no. Oh no.

Jihoon was going to see the two of them together, engaged.

He was going to be completely shattered.

“Lovebug, are you crying?”

“I—”

“Jihoon! Hey!” Your cousin’s voice went up several octaves from its regular position. You froze and cast your eyes downward, shrinking back as far into the seat as you could.

“Hey, hyung.”

Even the highest quality of speakers could not do this man’s voice justice, you realized.

“Oh my goodness, it’s our Jihoonie! Hi!”

You prepared yourself to hear the strain in his voice that you knew would tear you up inside.

“Hi, noona.”

Wait. What?

He spoke with such nonchalance, your head shot up in surprise.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Was your vision still fuzzy from earlier?

Did someone turn the playback speed to 0.5x?

Was that music playing?

(Shit. Hyejin was right.)

Your tongue mindlessly ran across your lips.

Oh wow.

He was really built like that, huh? His fair skin was so clear, you could have sworn there was a halo of light emitting from him. Cleanly done undercut, his ebony bangs fell messily just above his eyes, oh God, those crescent eyes, those bright, bright, bright—

Has he always looked at you like that?

“Hey, firefly.”

“Holy fuck.”

The older two gawked for a moment before your cousin began to berate you, going so far as to threaten to wash your mouth out with soap, while your unnie had her jaw dropped in horror. But you couldn’t look away from Jihoon. Surprise flitted across his face, but only for a moment. It settled into an uptilted corner of his lip and amusement dancing in his irises.

The woman before him, he only ever caught fleeting moments of. From social media posts by old friends to grainy photos from news outlets regarding your doctoral work. You were always so hard to pin down, like trying to catch a sunbeam in his hands.

You changed. So much.

You grew more into yourself, a woman you crafted with your own hands. There was a quiet confidence woven into you, so blatantly obvious, even though your current posture would convince everyone else otherwise. But he wasn’t everyone else. He could see the burning flame you’ve had since you were children, but it was more refined, more honed in, more in your control.

That made you more dangerous.

But that flustered look on your face.

Maybe you hadn’t changed too much.

And that gave him hope.

──────────────────

[끝.]

[side B: him.]

[birb-boyo]

Friend asked me what was the weirdest way I found a hyperfixation and my top three go to

1. Hades

I watched a show called Blood of Zeus and saw a glimpse of Dionysus and thought he was pretty

Basically ran to Ao3 for an x reader, for a Dionysus x reader but then the fandom tag said (Hades game) so then I looked it up and BAM hyperfixation💀

2. Linked Universe

Basically the same thing with Hades except it was Link(obviously) it was during the peak of my botw arc(phase)

It was something @/dreaming-of-lu posted about Wild and then I saw Linked Universe in the tags and, once again, got curious

Let’s not talk about how the entire reason I ended up on tumblr was to read fanfics💀

3. Hamilton

This was while I was still writing Wattpad fanfics I think-

I was scrolling on Pinterest and I saw a clip of Guns and Ships and I clicked on it because I thought that Daveed looked like my older sister’s math teacher

But then I actually heard Guns and Ships and thought bro was spitting, plugged some lyrics into google, found the song, found the entire musical album on Spotify and now I know all of the songs word for word(but not Washington’s Farewell Adress)

[a-trick-or-two-with-lepers]

Hair Song Ranking - by Production!

I'm back again with a somewhat coherent tumblr post! Can you believe it? Anyway, I know I've already done a Hair song ranking, but this time, I'll be talking about multiple productions: the Original cast recording (1968), the 1979 movie soundtrack, and the Broadway revival cast recording (2009). I know, same formula as my Godspell post.

I am aware that the film version omitted a TON of songs, but I'll be keeping those songs in the ranking anyway. I tried to match the songs up as much as possible, so I left out some that only appeared in one version. Also, massive spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen the movie- it departs from the original script in several major ways, and I think this impacts the message of the story both negatively and positively. (My asks and DMs are always open if you want to have a conversation about it 👀).

And now: my unsolicited opinions!

Aquarius- Winner: 1979 Movie. I mean. Can you blame me? This is, like, the most ethereal opening to a movie ever. The arrangement in this version is my favorite of any recording I've heard of this song. The extended intro leaves plenty of time for the audience to get excited- the bass and brass hit every time- and by the time the vocals come in, you'd better be ready to be astonished. The soloist is amazing. 'Aquarius' is by far the most popular track from the musical, and Renn Woods, who was just 19 at the time, sings it with such power. I'm a big fan of Sasha Allen, who sings this song (as well as many others) in the revival cast, and Ronnie Dyson's original take is iconic, but Woods only got one song in the show, and I think she deserves all the recognition for it. I highly suggest taking a look at this article if you'd like to know more about her experiences.

Donna- Winner: 1979 Movie. I was 🤏 this close to giving this one to the revival cast; Will Swenson is one of my favorite portrayals of George Berger. But not even he could hit the notes Treat Williams (rest in peace 😔) managed in this song. I also enjoy the instrumentation and backup vocals of this one the most. It's gonna be really hard to compare Treat to anyone else- he's top tier, for me.

Hashish- Winner: 2009 Cast. I almost gave this to the movie again, 'cause I do think it did the best job at what it set out to do, which is, I assume, make the audience feel like they're in the blunt rotation. Only thing with that is, this song is on the same track as 'Donna' in the movie soundtrack, and it pisses me off, because whenever I wanna listen to the former, I have to either sit through the latter (which I'm not too fond of) or use one of my precious Spotify skips! So, I'm gonna go ahead and say I like the revival recording best. Like I said, this track isn't my favorite, but I like that this recording in particular gets straight to the point and doesn't drag it out.

Sodomy- Winner: 1979 Movie. Ok. I know I'm riding high on the movie soundtrack right now. I'm aware of my bias. But it's not my fault they put a fucking church choir in this song. It sounds SO GOOD, and for what?? Also, love Donnie Dacus. He's so damn cute in the movie, and I really like his voice. It's just strong enough not to sound breathy, but not so strong it overwhelms the track. Woof, my beloved 🥰

Colored Spade- Winner: 1979 Movie. Or as I know it: ".....😶..... and president of the United States of Love!" Also, yes, another movie win. I can't defend myself anymore. The recordings are just so clean. Whoever played bass for this one really went at it. Not to mention, Dorsey Wright put his whole Hudussy into his performance. I will say, there's a weird noise at the end of the recording- I can't even explain it, but it's funny as hell. Go listen to it.

Manchester England- Tie: 1979 Movie/2009 Cast. Yeah, I couldn't choose with this one. I'd say the movie has a slight edge over the revival cast- mostly because it's gay as hell and has both Treat Williams and John Savage singing. I do love the revival version as well, though, because I think it's more what the original composition had in mind. The fake British accent-shtick is missing entirely from the film. Actually, this is one of those songs where the meaning in the stage version is completely different from the film version. This makes it really hard to compare them. So, you get a tie. (Side note: I need to watch this clip from the movie at least once a day to stay healthy. Doctor's orders).

I'm Black/Ain't Got No- Winner: 1979 Movie. Shit, man. You can't put Kurt Yaghjian in a song and expect me not to go crazy about it. (Peep the profile pic). Once again, the arrangement of this version rocks my shit to an absurd degree. Every soloist SLAYS it, the instrumentation is crisp as hell, and this version actually combines songs that are usually broken up in most stage productions. I'm not saying it's necessarily better because of that, but it certainly makes it easier to listen to cohesively. Also, I don't know. The choreography for the scene just matches so well with the tune. And yes, I know I shouldn't judge a movie based on its cinematography when comparing it to stage productions, but it's really hard to ignore with this one. Even without that, this is one of my favorite songs from the movie. It's genuinely perfect. I wouldn't change a thing about it. Also, John Savage is just really adorable when he sings "I'm invisible." Sue me. At least I'm honest!

Sheila Franklin/ I Believe in Love- Winner: 2009 Cast. This one isn't in the movie soundtrack, so you're safe from its reign for now. Woo! Anyway, Caissie Levy slays. The original cast may have gotten this one if it included the little intro where everyone sings their bit about Sheila- I love that part. But I think the revival cast deserves this win.

Air- Winner: 1979 Movie. "But tumblr user a-trick-or-two-with-lepers, this one wasn't even in the movie!" Ok, and? It's on the soundtrack, and it's the best one. I'm sorry, I don't make the rules. It's a damn shame this didn't make the cut, 'cause Annie Golden did a great job with it! She sounds absolutely adorable. The other two versions are almost hard to listen to for me. It's not like I think the singers did a bad job- they're both very talented and I don't hate their versions- but the song is written to be somewhat annoying, I think. The voice Kacie Sheik puts on for Jeannie can be a bit grating at times. Maybe that just means I'm more of a vocalist-enjoyer than an actor-enjoyer, but in terms of listening value, this one goes to the tragically unused movie version.

10. Initials- Winner: 1968 Cast. An original cast recording win! Yay! I don't even have a problem with the other two versions, I just think it's really funny that this particular recording came out while LBJ was president. Dissing a current president in your broadway production has to be one of the boldest moves I've seen in musical theater history- though, this show broke a lot of musical barriers, so I'm not surprised.

11. I Got Life- Winner: 1979 Movie. I don't know why I spent so long thinking about which version was my favorite for this one. The movie version is like, one of my top tracks on Spotify. The whole scene is fucking perfect. I know this is supposed to be a Claude song, but Treat Williams as Berger owns it. It ranked number two in my 1979 Hair song ranking, and I stand by that placement. It has become one of my favorite movie scenes. The absolute joy that emanates from his performance is really inspiring. I will say, I like how they kept the 1948/1968 bit at the beginning of the OG cast recording, and Gavin Creel sings this song really well in the revival, but I'd be hard pressed to give this win to anyone but the one and only Treat Williams.

12. Going Down- Winner: 2009 Cast. This is another one that wasn't in the movie soundtrack, and I am PISSED that we never got to hear Treat sing this. Regardless, Will Swenson has the charisma cranked up to 1000 here. I adore how he growls out "Lucifer." This has become one of my favorite tracks from the 2009 recording. It is NOT believable that this man, or anyone playing Berger in these versions, is a teenager, but I've never cared about stuff like that. Well, except for the travesty that is the Dear Evan Hansen movie. Yeesh... Anyway!

13. Hair- Winner: 1979 Movie. The title track! I can back this one up, I swear. First of all: this is usually a Claude/Berger song, and while I really wish John Savage sang more in the movie, a second Woof solo is always appreciated. They keep more of the harmony in the intro, which I appreciate. This particular version of "Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees" lives in my head rent-free at all times. I wish they'd used Hud's solo in the soundtrack, but I'm not too mad about it. Treat is, once again, hitting those high notes, and my ears thank him for it. Also, this is the only version that doesn't drag out the "why don't my mother love me" line, and I don't know why, but I kind of like it better that way?

14. My Conviction- Winner: 2009 Cast. This song is so cute. I love that someone of an older generation shows support in this show! And she's(?) trans?? Or a crossdresser. Never was sure which it was. Either way, I think all the performances of this one were really great, but Andrew Kober did it best in my opinion. Still, I'd love to see the unnecessarily horrified reactions to this in the 60s.

15. Easy to Be Hard- Winner: 1979 Movie. Yeah, I knew this was gonna win before I even started making the list. I'm sorry, I truly do love both other versions, and whenever I sing this song I use the original key, but the movie version is simply just. 😚🤌. That plucky thing they do with the guitar is so beautiful. The meaning of the song is amplified by how different the scene is from the stage versions. And the singer. THE. SINGER. FUCKING INSANE. Her name is Cheryl Barnes, and she owns my entire heart. This role isn't in any other version as far as I'm aware, and she doesn't even have a name. She just pops up and is like "hey lemme just blow you all away real quick." Fuck you Hud for being mean to her and her little baby. Still mad that he didn't get more flack for that on-screen. Point is- this performance is the best. I don't even like Jennifer Hudson's version more than this one, which is saying a LOT, 'cause I love that woman.

16. Don't Put It Down- Winner: 2009 Cast. This used to be a 'skip' song for me. But after listening to the revival recording more, I can safely call it one of my favorites. The harmonies are really clear in this version, and I find the satire of it really amusing. Crazy for the blue, red, and white! What a shame that they made it instrumental in the movie.

17. Frank Mills- Winner: 1968 Cast. I just found out this was sung by Martha Plimpton's mother??? I love her! This version is absolutely adorable. I really like her voice, and I think it captures Crissy's character really well. No shade to Allison Case, though; her version is just as, if not more, beautiful. The original just happens to be my favorite in this case. Also, I noticed how few wins they were getting and I felt bad.

18. Hare Krishna/ Be-In- Winner: 2009 Cast. This is one of those where I'd honestly be fine adding any of the versions to my playlist. The original seems like the perfect thing to get high to, and the movie version is accompanied by a literal drug trip scene, but this version is the clearest and most listenable to me. The harmonies are really present. I really like when they all sing, "Burn it, Berger, burn it!" Also, Dionne and everyone singing "Aquarius," is really beautiful and haunting. They're hyping Claude up, and then he doesn't burn it, and hhhhhggngnnnnngggghhh it's just really good.

19. Where Do I Go?- Winner: 1979 Movie. Is anyone really surprised anymore? This is hand-down my favorite song from the movie. Let me tell you why. The instrumentation at the beginning is like an auditory orgasm. The cinematography- I know, I know!- is really thought-provoking. The way every single person walking through New York just turns around, in sync, and stops, like they've suddenly realized how meaningless their lives are... And let me tell you. I fucking a-d-o-r-e John Savage's voice. I know most people won't- it's kind of whiny- but for some reason, I just can't get enough of it. It's so tragic that he didn't get more solos in this movie. Anyway, I have a whole ass analysis of this song on my blog, so check that out if you're interested. I also wrote an almost 40k word ao3 story using it as title fodder. Yeah, I'm shamelessly plugging my fanfiction. If I'm aware that I'm cringe does that make me less cringe?

20. Electric Blues- Winner: 2009 Cast. I almost gave this to the movie, because that really is my favorite version... for the most part. I think it goes on too long- I know that's because it fades into Claude's drug trip, but it gets tiring to listen to (for my short attention span, that is). That doesn't mean I don't really like the revival recording, though. Everyone has great energy, and this recording actually made me appreciate the song a lot more. Also, the end is really funny ("What the fuck! I was singing!")

21. Oh Great God of Power/ Manchester England (Reprise)- Winner: 2009 Cast. As far as I'm aware, this is the only one that actually has this song on the soundtrack. The original just has the Manchester England reprise. Anyway, I love this version to death. The first half is so gorgeous. I love how obsessed everyone is with Claude because, same. Also, I really like how they all sing "I believe in God!"

22. Black Boys- Winner: 2009 Cast. It took me a long time to warm up to this song. What made me finally like it was this recording. The scene in the movie was... strange, to say the least. But the women in the revival cast do such a good job with it. It's a bop!

23. White Boys- Winner: 2009 Cast. I know we're on a revival streak, but it felt wrong to split up the two boys songs. Besides, this is probably the best version of the three. Sasha Allen is fantastic as always. As much as I love Nell Carter's voice, the military recruiter guys singing in the track is too goofy for me to take it seriously.

24. Walking in Space- Tie: All. I knew this was gonna be a hard one to rank. I love all the versions so much. So, I'm just gonna take the easy route and talk about all three of them. The original is such a cohesive tune. It plays so smoothly, and I really enjoy everyone's vocal performance. It doesn't feel overdone at any point. The movie version is a bit long for my taste, but it's so good that it honestly has a right to be long. This part of the film drags a bit, but maybe I just don't like watching people suffer through war training. It's definitely impactful in that sense, though. I really like the first soloist; she has this lilting soprano vibrato that's very pleasant to listen to. I also like how militaristic the men chanting the colors sound in this version. Sasha Allen is the first soloist in the revival recording, and of course, she's perfect. She belts the whole thing, unlike the other versions' soloists. Her voice gives me massive chills, especially when she puts a bit of growl into it.

25. Four Score/ Abie Baby- Winner: 1968 Cast. All the love to Nell Carter and Sasha Allen, but this version is my fav. It's the least serious, which I think is what is was written to be. The soloist is doing this sing-talking thing, which I love, and she's funny as hell, especially at the end. ("Bang?! Ahahah, bang? Shiiiiit, I ain't dying for no white man").

26. Three-Five-Zero-Zero- Tie: All. Again, I'm not sure how to choose which of these is my favorite. It's just a really good anti-war song. Each one of the versions does it justice. I really like when a song makes me learn something, and I learned a lot from this song. For example: I learned what Viet Cong means, and I also learned that this song references a really interesting anti-war poem from the 60s titled 'Witchita Vortex Sutra.'

27. What A Piece of Work is Man- Winner: 2009 Cast. It was really hard to pick my favorite of the three. I didn't wanna hit you all with another tie, so I went with the revival cast. I think it has the smoothest transition into the Walking in Space reprise. The vocals are very clean as well. I wish they had kept this song in the movie; it's so pretty!

28. Good Morning Starshine- Tie: All. Dammit! I lied. I need to add another tie. They're all so good! The harmonies in the original are really, really nice. The movie version just puts me in such a good mood, and Beverly D'Angelo's voice is amazing! What a shame she didn't get more vocal parts in the movie. I really like how the harmonies start layering as everyone in the car gets into the song. This was one of the only moments I actually liked how they characterized Sheila in the film. But it was the revival recording that made me actually like this song- enough to want it in my playlists. Caissie Levy just has such a good voice. I also just love this song because it represents the last moment of hope and happiness in every version. It almost makes me want to cry, but I'll have to save my tears for this next song...

29. The Flesh Failures/ Let the Sunshine In- Tie: All. Welp. There goes my good mood. Fuck. This song... it doesn't matter who sings it. I will cry. Every time. It's so perfectly composed. In the original, when Claude sings his last few lines, he gets drowned out by the chorus, which symbolizes his meaningless death. Of course, the differences between the stage versions and the movie are stark, considering Berger dies instead of Claude, but the power of the message remains the same. The cinematography of this scene in the movie is so genius, it actually hurts to watch. The young men- the teenagers, the children- marching into the gaping maw of the warplane, Berger among them, singing a reprise of Claude's song. He knows now that he isn't seen as an individual by these people. He's a weapon. Disposable. He could be Claude for all they care. Fuck. It hurts just to think about it. The revival recording, though, might be the hardest to listen to. When paired with Aquarius Goodnights/ Ain't Got No/ Yip up the Sun, it never fails to make me sob. And I mean sob. The way Claude sings "Ain't got no" followed by gunshots, the way Berger screams for Claude, the brokenhearted singing of Sheila when she realizes Claude has died... I can't. I literally have to stop at Good Morning Sunshine when I'm listening to any of these albums if I want to continue having a good day, or else I'll be thinking about it all day. I truly believe this is the most intelligent and heart-wrenchingly stunning song ever written. Let the motherfucking sunshine in.

Well Gee Willikers. That was a ride. I love Hair like I love life itself, but BOY does that last song get me. Thank you SO SO SO much if you've read this far. I love you and I am kissing you tenderly on the forehead as we speak. I'm definitely in a bit of a Hair fixation right now- some may even call it hyper- and I had to have a somewhat productive outlet for it, so here you go! Hope you enjoyed ❤️

[growling]

Odd and unusual, deeply unsettling creature dubbed by the locals as "tumblr user Growling" (pinned post)

hello everypony this is growling's blog of tumble on which i post my yaoi (anything can be yaoi if you're open-minded enough)

-> it/its or he/him in general -> metaphysical/spiritual fictionkin + plural, which is why I switch between I/we pretty often when referring to myself (please do not use psychiatric or pathologizing terms for us such as DID, alter or introject. our system members do not have defined roles, either.) -> Collective/unclaimed names include: Seth, Mateusz, Andrzej, Jaspis, Karneol, Sylwester, Stefan, Kosma, Cezary/Czarek, Sójka and Mikołaj. We collect names like cool rocks -> evil loveless aplatonic aro narcissists with dangerous levels of autism they warned you about. now start barking

Rain Code side || Akuma Kun side || Yomi's blog || Spotify (if you like character playlists and think I got immaculate music taste....) || Twitter (18+ area)

Attention keeps me alive and I love receiving asks heyhey hey you should send me asks I need enrichment in my enclosure haha..... That being said I'm usually bad at articulating myself and prone to get overexcited/anxious when I try to respond, so I may take way longer to answer. They had to nerf me somehow. Genders vary between parts but as a general rule none of us are comfortable with feminine terms even as joke/slang, "girl" isn't gender neutral guys what the huh.... I do not have a DNI as they're just objectively ineffective and dumb, stop expecting others to curate your own experiences and use the block button as it was intended, also the hell do you mean by "basic dni criteria" are you just virtue signaling or is this some sort of code.

Current fandoms & things I'm into: Winx Club, Rain Code, Bungou Stray Dogs, Akuma Kun, Danganronpa, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, Gushing Over Magical Girls, Akudama Drive, Gravity Falls, Tribe Nine and occassionally posting about Warriors, but I've distanced myself from the community because it's rancid over there, same with Wings of Fire. Non-fandom specific, we really like violent whump (not the fever type. the, uh... other one) or just terrible things happening to fictional characters. Wanting them crying, terrified and in pain is an expression of adoration from us <3 though we're too shy to post/reblog any of that sort of stuff for now since not many people are as into it. Oh yeah and also cat genetics, these are cool.

[ethicstownpod]

For the audio drama ask meme - 19? Please and thank you, love your show!

Y’all 🥺💖

19. Do you have any playlists/music you listen to while working on production?

So many. Legitimately, one for each character. You can find them on my Spotify page (below, if tumblr co-operates).

But I also have a 2nd, secret January playlist that wasn’t (until now, so I can show y’all) public that has more… villainous songs on there. And also sadder songs. He’s having A Time.

Way back when the discord was just me, Pinja (logo designer), Mick (theme composer), and Paige (Elaine) I used to post random memes along with updates and one of the first things I posted was the aforementioned playlist. And then I forgot about it for ~2 months.

And THEN we started adding cast to the discord and Rhys (who I do not know very well at all at this point I cannot stress this enough) texts me and goes ‘I’m listening to your January playlist. Hozier. Love it.’

And I’m like ‘Oh, well then, guess I can never speak to this guy again, that’s so embarrassing.’ So I told him ‘That’s so embarrassing, I can literally never speak to you again’ but that didn’t really work out for me, huh?

BUT WAIT IT GETS WORSE another month after that he tells me ‘Oh, I re-made your January playlist on the old man music app I use so I can listen to it sometimes and think about the show’ (<- exact phrasing) and I was like ‘You WHAT?!?! WHYYYYYYY???’ And instead of saying ‘To spite you personally, of course’ he said ‘Because I like it, and it helps me understand the character.’

And sometimes I just think about how much he had to give a shit to do that and it makes me really upset in a happy way. BUT NO ONE TELL HIM, HE’S NOT ALLOWED TO KNOW IT MEANS A LOT TO ME WHEN HE DOES NICE THINGS BC THEN HE’LL TRY TO DO MORE NICE THINGS AND THAT’S NOT OKAY.

So anyway, here’s the playlist!!