#idk if this is my turn to get off the train (i probably already got off idk) but for those still on it ty for sticking around

[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.]

[milaisreading]

Random scenarios between the manager and Blue Lock (pt 1)

Characters: Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Kunigami, Gagamaru, Baro, Reo and Nagi

Pt II will include: Yukimiya, Otoya, Hiori, Karasu, Rin and Kurona

Idk, thought of this randomly and I am sorry that it's this long for no reason. Requests are open if anyone wants to!

Warning ⚠️: Y/n is used with she/her. Possible manga spoilers.

⚽️Blue Lock is owned by:  Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Part II

Isagi:

"Do you need help with that, (Y/n)?" The girl turned to look in the direction the familiar voice came from, shaking her head with a smile.

"It's alright, Isagi. The boxes aren't heavy, go and rest. It's not everyday Ego-san shows mercy and let's you rest." (Y/n) said as the boy frowned a little. Shaking his head, he walked to where one of the boxes was and took it.

"It's really nothing. Friends are there to help, and I do feel kind of guilty that you can't rest." He admitted with a blush. The statement surprised the girl and she smiled back softly.

"I don't mind, it's in my contract after all. And besides, I am trying to do my best to make it easy on you guys as well. Being the future champions of Japan is a big burden!"

"Champions? You think we have a chance at winning?" Isagi asked, surprised at how confident she was in them. It warmed his heart knowing there was someone who believed in him even if he didn't.

"Of course! You guys are doing great, and with the talents you all are polishing you will be unstoppable at the World Cup! Trust me." (Y/n)'s grin along with her words caused the boy's face to turn a brighter red and a new sense of confidence took over his body.

"Thanks! I promise to not disappoint your expectations!"

"I know you won't!" (Y/n) nodded her head.

'I promise to get the Cup! Then I will ask (Y/n) out.' Isagi nodded to himself, a new goal already formed in his head.

Bachira:

"Bachira, come on! It's getting late and you need to sleep too." (Y/n) said, trying to get the boy off of the ground, but he wouldn't budge. It was already late and (Y/n) just wanted to clean everything up and go to sleep. Knowing how Ego is, he was probably judging her behind one of the cameras.

"No! I want to still play and train!"

"Is your monster telling you that?" (Y/n) wondered out loud as the boy kept quiet. She already got used to the talk of the monster and in Blue Lock nothing can really surprise her anymore, so asking about the monster came like a 2nd instinct to her.

"No... I just want to do better." Bachira said, hiding a small blush. It still amazed him how little she cared about the monster and acted like it's a normal thing. Unlike all the other people he met out and in Blue Lock.

"You are already great! Bachira, you need to rest too. Wanting to become great is a good thing here, but with no rest you will never achieve it." (Y/n) argued, but the boy still wouldn't budge. The girl thought for a moment, then went to pick up a ball from nearby.

'If you can't beat him, then join in.' She thought, kicking the ball towards the boy.

"Huh?" Bachira thought, picking the balk up and looking at the girl.

"How about this, I will help you train everyday for 30 minutes and then you go to sleep? Is that good?" Bachira looked at her in confusion for a moment, but soon after grinned and jumped up, kicking the ball back.

"Alright! It's a deal!"

'She is all I need to keep calm... my monster loves her and so do I. I can't wait till I win the World Cup and ask her out!'

Chigiri:

Excitedly, (Y/n) ran down the hallway to look for her red haired friend, package held tightly against her chest. She had been waiting for the item for weeks, and she was more than happy to know it came before the U-20 match.

'It's here! Teieri-san was right when she said it will be fast! Chigiri will love this!' She thought, running to the cafeteria where she eventually found the boy eating.

"Chigiri! I got something for you!"

Surprised, the boy looked up from his plate as (Y/n) stood in front of him, holding out the mysterious box to him.

"What... what is that? I didn't order anything." Chigiri argued, his face going a bright red when he looked at (Y/n) more closely.

'She looks so pretty today...'

"I know! I ordered it... well Teieri-san did since she is the one with the money... but that doesn't matter! Here, open it please!"

Confused, Chigiri took the box and slowly opened it. His expression turned into a shocked one, inside was a red knee brace and he took it out to inspect it.

"Where... where did you find that?" Chigiri asked, noticing it had his initials on the inside.

"I showed it to Teieri-san after I looked for a way to make your running easier, and she agreed to use the funds to buy it! The company even offered some personal touches as well. Hope you like it!" (Y/n) grinned excitedly as Chigiri kept quiet for a moment, unsure what to say. He was really touched that someone outside his family cared this much, not to mention it was the same girl he had liked for the past few months.

"I... I love it. Thank you, I will make sure to wear it whenever I can."

As (Y/n) was cheering him on, Chigiri couldn't help a fond smile as he looked up at her.

'Yes, she is the one I want. Coming and staying in Blue Lock was the best decision. I love her so much that I don't think I can hold it in till the World Cup.' He sighed.

Kunigami:

"Why are you eating alone? I am used to seeing Isagi and Chigiri with you." (Y/n) said as she sat across Kunigami, who nervously swallowed his food down.

"They went to sleep, I stayed a little later than usually to train."

(Y/n) nodded her head, sliding her noodles to him.

"Huh?"

"You need the food more than I do right now. Besides, I ate a lot during lunch today." The girl explained as the boy looked around the place, then back at her.

"You sure Ego-san won't get mad?"

"It won't be the first time. I stopped counting the amount of times Nagi stole food from me." (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders as Kunigami took the bowl, grateful for the extra food.

"Thank you... and thanks for the help. We don't tell you that often." He said with a tint of red on his cheeks.

"You really don't need to thank me, watching you all play is rewarding enough. Can't wait till I see you guys bring Japanese football to the next level! That will be exciting!"

The answer surprised the boy and he slowly nodded his head. A comforting silence fell among them and Kunigami kept sending the girl a few short glances.

'She looks prettier than normally... I really hope we stay close after Blue Lock. Maybe in a year or so I could ask her out properly.'

Gagamaru:

"Good job, Gagamaru! You did great out there! The save was amazing!" The boy blushed as (Y/n) patted his back. It wasn't a everyday thing that anyone paid this much attention to him. He was mostly silent and on the goal, not scoring and usually out of the attention radar. Well, except from Ego and (Y/n)'s, who paid attention to him for different reasons. Ego to either point out his flaws or sometimes compliment him in a weird way. (Y/n) meanwhile watched him always in a encouraging and warm way, a way that made him want to do better, show off his skills.

"Y-you think so?" The boy wondered as he wiped off his sweat.

"Yeah! You are so ready for the U-20 match! They won't know what hit them when they see you on the goal!" (Y/n) told him. Her words meant a lot more to him than (Y/n) could imagine, and je was kind of greatful for Reo coming over to pull (Y/n) away for some reason. Gagamaru watched her and sighed dreamily.

'If only I wasn't so silent... but soon I will open up. I just need to prove myself first.' Gagamaru nodded to himself.

Baro:

"Why do the towels smell so differently?" Baro wondered and looked straight at (Y/n) as she picked up the empty water bottles. The girl stopped in her tracks and thought for a moment.

"Oh! I forgot that I am using a new detergent now. That's why it smells differently."

"A new detergent?" Baro questioned.

"You complained a week ago that the detergent smelled bad and made the towels rougher than necessary. After inspecting them I asked Ego-san to switch them out. Thank God Teieri-san was there to help me." Baro kept quiet for a moment as he stared at (Y/n), making the girl more nervous than needed.

"Is that not good either? I made sure to get the extra softening one."

"No! No it's fine, I just didn't expect you to care enough for it this much." Baro said, sounding genuinely dumbfounded.

"My job is to take care of your issues, and you are my friend. So why wouldn't I care." (Y/n) shrugged, going back to her previous duties as Baro sighed and smelled the towel a little more.

'My queen is always making sure I am doing great. Can't wait till I make everything official. She will have the best of the best.'

Reo:

Reo walked through the hallway as he held a box with some baked goods his parents had sent him. It wasn't normal for Ego to allow presents inside, but after the victory over U-20, he became more lenient. So now once a month they could get some baked goods from the outside.

'Where is she... I hope she will like them. I asked my mom to find the best bakery in the city.'

The boy opened the door to one of the training rooms and sighed in relief when he saw (Y/n) there taking notes.

"(Y/n)! Are you busy?" The boy asked as the girl turned around to look at Reo in surprise.

"Reo?! Not at all, did you need something?" (Y/n) wondered as the boy jogged over to her, handing her the box.

"Not really! I just wanted to give you this! Hope you like them." Reo said as he blushed. (Y/n) looked at the box in surprise and took it slowly.

"For me? Strange, I already got the package from my parents."

"This is from my parents. I asked them to get these for you... as a thank you gift." Reo said, sounding bashful as he watched (Y/n) open the box, gasping when she saw the cupcakes inside.

"Reo! This is too much! They look like those expensive ones advertised on the internet! Why would you do this?!" (Y/n) asked, sounding genuinely embarrassed.

"You do a lot for us...and I wanted to thank you in some way. And this is my way of doing so. Just take them, please." Reo insisted, and after a minute or two (Y/n) finally agreed.

"I owe you one." She muttered as she took a bite from one of the cupcakes and the boy shook his head as he ate one too, after (Y/n) forced him to take it.

'Typical... she never let's anyone take care of her. But I will show (Y/n) that she can always rely on me. I will keep doing it as long as it takes for her to realize she deserves it.' Reo sighed, already planning something else.

Nagi:

Nagi groaned as he hid in a nearby storage room. Out of Ego's short neglect, the boy had escaped the training room and found safety in the abandoned corner of the building. He really didn't wish to leave training today, since (Y/n) was there, but he barely got any sleep the past week. It was all because of his ever-growing crush on the girl, he felt like his heart would explode when he was around her, and at night it became hard to sleep because of it.

'Stupid feelings...' Nagi groaned, closing his eyes shut as he heard the doorknob rattle. He groaned inwardly, prepared for a scolding from Ego or whoever it was, but nothing came of it.

"Did you find him, (Y/n)?" Reo's voice was heard and Nagi resisted the urge to open his eyes and look at the girl.

'Great...' The boy thought, expecting her to say yes.

"Uhh... no. Just some old brooms."

'Huh? Did he just lie?' Nagi thought in shock as he heard Reo groan and walking off to a different place. He heard (Y/n) sigh and she walked closer to Nagi's frozen form.

"I know you are awake. Go and take a nap, I will deal with Ego-san."

"And why would you do that?" Nagi asked suspiciously, opening one eye as (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders.

"You need rest, that's quite obvious. I want you to be healthy and well-rested, not half dead. Just go, Nagi." (Y/n) said and walked out to go and talk with Ego.

The boy stared at the entrance as his face turned a bright red and he hid his face with his hands.

'I think I really do love her even more now!'

[cozage]

Hi Coza.  How are you?  I’m so happy to see request open again!  Also wanted to let you know I LOVE The Daughter’s Return and the headcanon where some of the boys teach their partner how to fight!!!  Can I please have a Zoro x female reader, where the reader is saved by Zoro and joins the crew (idk what job or dream she has but it could be anything).  Zoro decides to teach her swordsmanship so she is able to defend herself.  I don’t know if any of that remotely makes sense.  But thank you and can’t wait to see it!! 💙🤍

A/N: HI FRIEND MISS YOU HOPE ALL IS WELL AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS LOVELY DISH OF ZORO Characters: Zoro x fem reader CW: Illusion to some spicy activities but nothing crazy Total word count: 1.1k

Sword Skills

You would’ve died if that green haired swordsman hadn’t stopped those men in the alleyway. They had cornered you, and suddenly he appeared out of nowhere to save you. 

And then he was gone again, racing back the way he came.

“Hey! Let me repay you!” you shouted. “Please! You just saved my life!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the man said, still walking briskly away from you. “I just took out some trash.”

“Please!” you begged. “Let me repay you! I have a sushi restaurant, let me make you a meal!”

That made him stop. He looked back at you curiously. “Got any booze there?”

You nodded. “Please, let me try and repay my debt.”

He sighed dramatically, but he turned and walked to you. “Lead the way.”

Ten hours later, he was still sitting in your shop. You had closed down early and the two of you had exchanged stories and laughed the entire night away. 

“It sounds like you have amazing adventures,” you said wistfully. “I wish I could do something that exciting.”

“Join our crew,” Zoro offered casually, taking another swig of alcohol.

You gave a dry laugh. “I couldn’t do that!”

“What’s keeping you here?”

You didn’t have an answer. You had no family, the job you worked was menial, and even the place you lived in was far too small for how much money you paid the owner. You had a few surface-level friends, but Zoro now knew more about you than any of your friends did. 

“I can’t fight,” you admitted. “I wouldn’t have anything to offer the crew.”

“Yeah right,” Zoro scoffed. “You can make sushi. You can prepare drinks. You can do plenty of things.”

“But I’d be a liability in fights. Which happens a lot in the pirate world.”

Zoro’s eye twitched in irritation. “You don’t have to be strong to be on our crew you know.”

“But I don’t know anything! Did you forget earlier today?”

Zoro clicked his tongue in disapproval, but he had to admit you were right. “Fine. I’ll teach you.”

You scowled at him in confusion. “Teach me what?”

“How to fight. Let’s go pick some swords out tomorrow before we get on the ship.”

“I’m not carrying around three swords.”

Zoro chuckled. “You couldn’t handle three swords yet. I’ve trained my whole life for three swords. With you, we’ll start with one.”

You nodded in satisfaction, a smile on your lips. “My flat is just upstairs, if you want to stay the night.”

Zoro shrugged. “Probably better for me to stay. Don’t know how to find my way back to the ship otherwise.” 

You were going to offer him the bed, but by the time you made it and went back out to the living room, he was already asleep on the couch. 

The next afternoon, you were staring at a giant ship with a lion-sun figurehead. 

“Ready?” Zoro asked. “You’ll just have to ask the captain, but Luffy is pretty accepting.”

You nodded, and the two of you walked onto the ship. 

You instantly found Luffy, the man Zoro had said was the captain. 

“Hi Luffy, I was wondering-”

“Who the hell are you?” the captain asked, looking at you with big, black eyes.. “Are you here to steal our stuff?”

You were taken aback by his question, and it took you a few moments to respond.

“Er..no. I was hoping-”

He cut you off again. “Awesome! That’s good. So, do you wanna join my crew? I’m going to be the King of the Pirates!”

He was direct, you had to give him that. 

“I would, actually. If that’s alright with you.”

Luffy broke into a wide grin. “Awesome! Nami and Robin will be excited to have another girl on the ship! Welcome aboard!”

And then he wandered off, as if nothing had happened. 

“Told you it’d be easy.” Zoro had a knowing smirk on his face. “Ready for your first lesson?”

“I suppose.”

“Alright then,” he said. “Raise your sword.”

You tried. You had to grip it with two hands, and it was surprisingly more heavy than you anticipated when you swung it. 

“The weight distribution always surprises people,” Zoro explained. He walked over to you, slightly adjusting your grip and your stance. 

“There, try that.” He took a step away from you. “Give it a few swings.”

You swung a few times. You had to admit, this stance was easier, but it was still extremely draining. 

“We’ll work up to a real sword. The next time you touch this, it’ll be a thousand times easier. But remember that feeling. Remember that struggle.”

And then he swapped your real sword for a fake, wooden sword that was much easier to swing. 

He trained you hard, but he also made sure you understood why you were doing certain exercises. He explained what muscles you were working, showed you what moves you would be able to do, and always gave the reasoning as to why a workout was important. 

He was good at this, explaining how things worked and why muscles need to be built. He worked you hard; only stopping when you collapsed with bruises littered across your body. 

But he carried you back to bed every night. And eventually, he started carrying you back to his bed every night. The two of you would sleep intertwined, bruises and cuts intermingling with one another. 

Some nights, he gave you another kind of workout, the two of you training all night long and sleeping all day. It was a trade off you were happy to do, though you often ended the night with far more bruises than you started with. 

Other night, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, caressing your body as if it was the most delicate thing he had ever seen. This was the duality of Roronoa Zoro, and you loved that you were able to see both sides of him like this. 

After a month of various training exercises, he handed you back your sword. 

You were hesitant to take it. You didn’t feel ready. You were still the same girl who would get beaten in an alleyway, weren’t you? Surely you couldn’t have progressed that much. But you could see the confidence in Zoro’s eyes, urging you on. 

You grabbed the hilt and swiftly pulled out the sword, ready to start your next phase of training. 

[crucifiedfaerie]

Sparring Sessions ༉₊˚✧

Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

➴ Summary: When Snoke makes you his training partner against his wishes, Kylo vows to make your little sessions as nightmarish as possible. But it gets increasingly more difficult for him as his feelings for you grow.

➴ Word Count: 3.2k

➴ Warnings: no actual smut but lots of sexual tension and slightly implied smut so 18+ MDNI, slowburn ??, snoke in his matchmaker era ???, reader's AND kylo's POV, kylo ren is a mean emotionally stunted dickhead as always, mean!kylo to soft!kylo, so much tension and mutual pining, reader has some fire in her and doesn't take his bs, crylo ren, A LOT of angst, a little bit of fluff, swearing, typos and saint being illiterate probably.

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams )

A/N: guys i kinda hate how this turned out. but idk im chronically too hard on myself at all times so maybe im just in my head about it. nonetheless, i really hope you guys enjoy. theres no smut in this one, and it is a oneshot currently, but if you guys do actually like it and request a part two, i will definitely consider making a part two with smut. also adam driver is sooo sexy in that gif like... LOOK AT HIM !!

Kylo Ren was always a loner at heart, sparing little attention towards his peers, let alone attempting to seek out positive relationships with them. He simply preferred to be left alone, his hot-headedness couldn't handle a person even remotely getting in his way.

The day Snoke told him he would be getting a training partner, he retreated to his quarters and threw what can only be described as a temper tantrum. His lightsaber shrieked as he swung at the durasteel walls, shouting profanities with each hit.

The following morning when you enthusiastically offered your hand to shake, Kylo simply stared at you. His dark eyes narrowed as they flitted from your outstretched hand to your face in a deadly glare. "We are not, and will not be friends... let's make that very clear." He stated coldly.

However, with each passing day, his hatred for you turned into something different. Despite Kylo's annoyance, he couldn't deny how beautiful you looked and he was constantly catching himself lowering his gaze to your lips.

As the months passed, your relationship built on hate evolved into a strange competition of who could annoy each other the most. Your constant bickering had even started to piss off the Stormtroopers.

The two of you would spend the first ten minutes of your sessions arguing over who got the shittier, cracked training saber. Kylo's favorite excuse being "I won more matches yesterday so I should get the better one." He'd use that even if it weren't true, as if he were hoping you'd somehow forgotten you'd beaten him multiple times the day before.

Some mornings you would breeze past him as he walked down the hall to the training bay. You'd sprint through the doors and hear his footsteps quicken behind you. Your level of speed was something Kylo could never match, which always made him mad. By the time he would make it through the doors, you would already be holding the better training saber, twirling it around in your hand. "Too slow, Ren." You would sneer at him.

Other times, Kylo would arrive to the training bay early, knowing by now that being punctual wasn't necessarily your thing. When you would try to take it from him, he would raise the saber as far as he could in the air, smirking as he took pleasure in watching your futile attempts to jump up and reach it. If Kylo's speed was inferior to yours, your height was most certainly inferior to Kylo's.

He would tell himself he hated how physically close you were to him in those moments, but deep down he knew that wasn't true. Each brush of fabric or slight bump against his side made his heart race... made him feel... something. And whatever it was, he resented you for making him feel that way.

This morning you had woken up feeling different. Your feelings for Kylo had been slowly evolving as well, and you seemed to be unable to get his dark eyes and stupid smirk out of your head. Truth be told, you were beginning to grow tired of how he treated you like some nuisance he only found pleasure in tormenting. As you walked down the quiet halls of Starkiller, you decided you were in no mood for his games today.

"Ten minutes late." Kylo shook his head, "That has got to be a new personal record." He jeered.

You scoff at him and roll your eyes, ignoring his jab and walking past him to pick up the damaged training saber he left for you. With your feet planted firmly on the floor, you take a fighting stance, waiting for him to make the first move.

Kylo lunged at you and instinctively you ducked, catching his saber with your own before pushing it away from your body.

You blocked each other's attacks in silence, the only sounds that filled the room were yours and Kylo's breathing and the clicks of dull metal blades hitting each other.

Kylo watched you intently with a dark gaze, gritting his teeth. Your fiery attitude always amused him. It was something he secretly really liked about you, so your silence today was unnerving. The longer you ignored him, the more he wanted to catch your attention.

"Hey." He said in a low tone as he dodged another one of your attacks.

Your eyes snap to his, narrowing. "What?"

Kylo took in your annoyed expression as a smirk tugged at his lips. He stepped closer, attempting to take a swipe at your abdomen with his blade before answering.

"You're looking lovely today." He smirked, attempting to catch you off guard.

You jumped back from his attack, his blade mere inches from making contact with your skin. "Very funny, Ren." You rolled your eyes, emphasizing his name in a sneer.

Kylo slightly shrugged, still smirking. "Why's it funny? Am I not allowed to compliment you?" He challenged, his tone still teasing.

"Not when it's laced with sarcasm." You mock his tone, taking another hard swing at him.

Kylo's lips curled into a smug grin as he catches your blade with his, pausing his attacks to look down at you, blades still touching. "But what if it isn't sarcasm?" He mused. In reality, he did genuinely think you looked lovely, but in the moment he was being sarcastic to get a reaction from you.

You laughed, ignoring his question. "You know for someone who hates my guts, you sure do try to make quite a bit of conversation with me." You took the opportunity to use your saber to knock his from his hands, sending it to the floor with a clatter. "I'd even say you have a crush on me or something." You jabbed, smirking.

Kylo's jaw clenched at your words, his fists tightening as he watched his saber fall to the ground. He tried to hide that your words struck a nerve with him, and that you were completely right. He did hate you... once upon a time, but things were different now and he absolutely despised how easily you could call him on his bullshit.

"Fucking- shut up." He snapped.

You let out a small huff of a laugh. He was never good at hiding his anger.

"With pleasure." You dropped your saber to the floor and gave a sarcastic curtsy before walking past him, bumping shoulders with him on purpose as you made your way to the door.

Kylo's eye twitched. "You-" He was filled with an insurmountable amount of rage at your audacity. You had really gotten under his skin this time. "Where do you think you're going? Training doesn't end for another two hours." He demanded, his tone shifting dramatically towards cold authority.

You groaned in annoyance. "To my quarters to be alone... Away from you! I'm done for the day."

Kylo scoffed at you, his ego bruised. "Of course you're going to run off. You're too much of a baby to train with me." He stepped in front of you, blocking your straight path to the door as he crossed his arms.

"Asshole." You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath before swiftly darting around him and out the door, leaving him alone in the training room.

His pride was hurt, and he wasn't going to let this go. He stood in the training bay doorway and shouted at you down the hall. "You know what? Don't bother coming back tomorrow! I'll tell Snoke having you as a training partner was a mistake, that you'll never be good enough to train with me."

"Fine!" You shouted back at him, waving your hand in the air behind you and not even turning to look in his direction. "I'm done being treated like scum by you anyways!" You turn the corner, leaving him standing at the end of the empty hall.

Panic and regret instantly washed over him as he watched you disappear around the corner. Kylo didn't actually want you gone, he only said it to get under your skin. He wasn't expecting you to so nonchalantly agree.

Why did I do that?

Kylo tried so hard to resist the thoughts and feelings he had for you that plagued his mind, how just the sight of you made him feel... funny. He always thought that maybe if he was mean enough to you, they would go away. But now with you gone completely, the feelings only rose to the surface.

"Fuck." He muttered to himself as he leaned on the doorframe, face in his hands.

When he looked up his expression hardened, noticing a Stormtrooper in the training bay staring at him. "What are you looking at!?" He yelled.

That night you laid on your bed staring at the ceiling, replaying the events in your head, which only made you angrier.

You massaged your temples in annoyance. "Stupid fucking man-child with his stupid fucking beautiful face and h-"

Your mumbling was interrupted by a light tapping at your door. It was pretty late, and most of the crew was asleep, so you were confused as to who would be knocking on your door at this hour. You were in no mood to talk to anyone though, so you just laid there, hoping whoever it was would go away.

After a few moments of silence, you heard Kylo's voice on the other side of the door.

"It's uh... It's me. I know you can hear me." The sound of his voice caught you off guard, his tone was one you'd never heard from him before. He sounded almost... sheepish.

"I'm sleeping." You shout back to him.

You thought you heard him let out a small laugh. "No you aren't. I just wanted to talk to you. Just- Can I come in? Please?" There was a slight whine to his voice.

You got up and swung the door open, glaring at him. "What?" You gestured for him to enter, your annoyance with him clear from your expression and hand movements.

Kylo stepped into your room, before you practically slammed it shut. He looked as if he were trying to look everywhere but directly at you. "I just... wanted you to know I'm..." He couldn't even finish his sentence. "I shouldn't have said what I said earlier."

You laughed, leaning against your door. "Are you in my room... apologizing to me right now? I'm sorry I just wanna make sure I'm not in some weird dream." You looked at him with a mixture of amusement and perplexity.

Kylo scoffed at you, trying to hide the slight strain in his voice. "I'm not apologizing. I'm just being... courteous... for once."

"..... Courteous?" You laughed, unable to hide how much enjoyment you were getting from this.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, shifting slightly. "Look, just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm not still pissed at you. I'm not saying I'm sorry. I do still despise you, after all."

"Oh, sure." You said sarcastically, nodding your head. "Because when I despise a person, I definitely feel the need to come to their room at midnight to explain myself."

Kylo's eye twitched as you called him out. "I do despise you! I just realized I may have gone too far, so don't be so full of yourself. Gods- I wouldn't have come here if I knew you'd be such a nightmare!"

You sighed, the amusement fading back into hurt and contempt. "If you only came here to insult me and make the situation worse, you can leave and never see me again. Which I'm sure you would love."

He took a step closer to you, pausing before speaking as a twinge of guilt crossed his expression. "Please stay." He tried to sound stern, but he knew he was in no position to give you any commands. "Look... just... come back to training tomorrow." He could feel the power slipping through his fingers.

You've gone soft, Ren. Lost your edge.

Your eyes narrowed as you glared at him. "I'll see you tomorrow." You said coldly, opening the door and gesturing for him to leave.

Kylo's brow furrowed, his ego bruised once again by your attitude towards him, but relieved that you agreed to stay. "Fine." He replied, a glint of anger returning to his eyes.

He went to storm out of your quarters, before stopping in his tracks just outside your door. "I... goodnight." He sounded pained.

What is wrong with me?

You laughed at him again, which only made him seethe. When he turned around to say something though, he realized you had already shut the door, leaving him in the dark emptiness of the hallway.

Kylo clenched his fists, his eyes burning with anger and want. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, trying to ignore the nagging thought of just... being honest with you about his feelings. Apologizing and asking you to come with him back to his chambers.

Don't be fucking stupid, Ren. She wouldn't want that. Just go now and save yourself the embarrassment.

He walked back towards his quarters, his head hung low, thoughts racing. When he entered his room, he slowly made his way to his bed before collapsing on the soft, dark sheets.

He attempted to rationalize the situation in his head, tried to brush off the entire interaction as nothing.

It's fine. This is just how we are. Tomorrow, we'll go back to normal.

Except none of it felt normal anymore.

Kylo was a mess. The entire ordeal had knocked him completely off balance, making him question himself for the first time. He took a deep breath, the anger in his heart fading to soul crushing emptiness.

Gods- Why am I like this? Every time I want to be kind, I end up going cold and pushing her even further away... I couldn't even say I was sorry and now she fucking hates me.

I dont even know why I want to be so nice to her, she constantly has an attitude and she acts like she's better than me.

His heart sank as he realized.

She is better than me.

He fought back tears, ashamed by his own weakness. Kylo laid completely still, taking a few more deep breaths before finally surrendering.

He shuddered as tears began to fall, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had someone there who he didn't have to hide his pain from.

You sat on the edge of your bed, knee bouncing and staring at the floor. Your mind was running a million light years a minute as you argued with yourself, your heartache and your anger having a moral battle.

I shouldn't have been so harsh, he seemed genuinely remorseful there for a moment... until I made fun of him.

Oh please. Ren is never remorseful about anything. He just enjoys tormenting me at training and was worried about losing that.

But there was an air about Kylo tonight... something different. Something softer that only a trained eye could have seen. And you saw it, you know you did. It was something you had never seen from him before.

I need to talk to him.

You quickly stood up and rushed out the door of your quarters. You didn't make it twenty feet down the hallway before you ran into something- someone.

You yelped at the sudden collision. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the quiet hallway you looked up and your eyes connected with Kylo's. Usually he had this perpetual expression of anger on his face, but now he looked... sad?

It's him.

It's her.

Kylo froze, his body tensing slightly once he realized you were mere inches from him. He had a second realization, and a small wave of excitement and nervousness washed over him.

Did she come to see me too?

"W-what are you doing here?" You whispered, not wanting to admit you were headed to see him.

"What are you doing here?" Kylo asked back, tilting his head. The truth was, he had just finished crying and he was fighting the urge to tell you how badly he needed you. How every time you're near him he finds himself gazing at your lips. How he absolutely adores your fiery attitude that always comes out the most during your sparring sessions, despite how much he pretended to hate it. It was a losing battle, he could only hide how he felt for so long.

"I asked first..." You attempt to retort, but trailing off as you notice his tear stained cheeks in the dim lighting of the hallway. Your expression softens. "Ren, have you been crying?"

Before you could even begin to process the foreign idea of someone as cold as Kylo crying, your face was in his hands and his lips were crashing into yours.

You froze initially, before melting into him. His kiss was full of need, months of tension snapping as your lips moved against his. He moved his hands down to wrap his arms around you. His grip on you was gentle but he held you tightly, as if he feared you would disappear at any moment.

Kylo pulled away just for a moment to breathe, pressing his forehead against yours. His heart raced with emotion, and his body felt entirely out of his control.

"I don't care if you hate me, I just couldn't survive much longer without telling you how much I need you." His voice was soft but there was a tinge of desperation to it.

Your fingers snaked their way through his dark locks. "I never hated you, I just thought you hated me." You smiled slightly, out of breath.

The energy from your touch and your words surged through Kylo's body, any remnants of the fear and contempt he felt just hours ago had now disappeared completely.

"I only ever hated myself for feeling something I didn't understand. But I understand now." He whispered before kissing you again, this time more urgently.

You were everything Kylo ever wanted. Your touch, your voice, your presence. Everything about you enchanted him and in that moment he felt like he had known you for far longer than he actually had. He couldn't stop kissing you, and he never wanted to stop.

Instinctively, you moaned against his mouth. The sound of the sweet noises he drew from you made his whole body feel like it was on fire. He pushed you against the durasteel wall, his lips sliding down your neck and then back up to your mouth. He smirked against your skin at your soft gasps of pleasure.

Kylo pulled away again for a moment, his dilated eyes locked on yours as he breathed heavily. He quickly took your hand into his own, gripping it tightly before taking a few steps back, pulling you away from the wall and leading you down the hallway to his quarters.

The sounds of your hushed laughter and shushing of each other filled the quiet of the hallway as you both practically ran hand in hand. If someone else had been in the halls, you would have looked like two school children running off to do something you shouldn't.

You knew you would both be late to training tomorrow morning, and so did he... but neither of you really cared.

[blossoming-mind-palace]

ROTBB First Time Headcanons (NSFW/Minors DNI)

An anonymous request. Work left me burnt out so I used this to get my creative juices flowing again. Written with a GN reader in mind.

Chung Myung

So you know how he has canonically big hands?

Guide him and he'll become the fingering king in no time. He already has long fingers, so you just need to tell him where to go, what to do, and how fast to do it.

Staying on the topic of hands he's grabbing everything because A. Grabbing your bits is funand B. He wants to see how you react. 

Surprisingly good at foreplay, and it makes you wonder if he’s read a couple of books on this or not.

Also bricked up and if you comment on this he will get cocky. (pun intended lmaoooo)

It might be his first time, but holy shit he has stamina thanks to his training. Even if he finished too soon he's going back in. Will not stop until you've finished.

Probably started out with missionary for the first round but will want to try other positions later in the night.

Kind of guy to finish inside of you, stay inside for a minute, and then accidentally get hard again from staying inside. (wrap it before you tap it)

Baek Cheon

He tries to be super romantic during his first time because he thinks that's what you want and he desperately wants to impress you. He’s a perfectionist, so he tries to make everything perfect.

Probably took you on a nice little date first. Has prepped his room ahead of time in case he gets lucky. He's got candles, towels, etc.

Normally you don't plan your first time, but he keeps this stuff on hand just so he can be prepared

And when he does get lucky he’ll concentrate more on giving his partner a pleasurable experience than his own satisfaction

Tries so hard to spoil his partner, but you should uno reverse it. He’ll get flustered and ask if it’s okay that he’s receiving all of this attention. Please continue pleasuring him he really likes it.

Going to go with missionary first because it’s easy and he wants to see how you react to his performance. If you want to continue spoiling him ride him during round 2 and he’ll be in heaven.

I also headcanon him as being bricked up but he needs to learn how to uhhh… wield the blade? Again? But like a different blade if you know what I mean? I need to stop bye-

Jo Geol

He doesn't know what he's doing. He's received advice, read romance novels, etc. but he’s still awkward. But then again who isn't awkward during their first time?? He's trying his best and that's all that matters.

Will try really hard to be romantic, but he’s extremely nervous. Will tell you he’s nervous, because admitting that he’s nervous helps calm him down. Idk why it just works.

Please reassure him and tell him he’s doing a good job.

Communicates a lot and is very loud. The more you stimulate him, the louder he’ll get. Isn’t shy when it comes to dirty talking with you.

He strikes me as a doggy-style kind of guy. Idk why.

Not as well-endowed as the last two but it’s about the motion of the ocean. He’s a quick learner so he’ll learn how to hit it right after a couple of tries.

Yunjong

Really reserved and shy, so you’ll have to take the lead with this one. There’s no way he’d initiate something so scandalous. 

If he makes any moves he’ll be really polite and constantly ask if what he’s doing is okay and if you feel good.

A blunt partner would make him soooo flustered, but he’s secretly turned on by a partner like that.

Yunjong wants to be dominated and bottom. Like he’ll top if you want him to, but he really likes watching you ride him. Find the thought of you getting off while using him like a dildo really hot, but you could never get him to say that out loud.

Discovers that he likes receiving hickeys, but can’t stand the embarrassment that comes with people seeing them. If you mark his neck please teach him how to use makeup to cover them up.

Jo Geol notices him during his walk of shame and Yunjong gets interrogated. Jo Geol was waiting for you two to get together and won a bet thanks to you guys.

Sweating nervously and giving vague answers when people ask him where he was last night, but everyone knows. He doesn’t say anything, but his nervous body language gives everything away.

 Yu Iseol

Ugh, I wish they would develop her more. I love her but she’s so hard to write for.

She seems quiet and stoic but if you're trying to seduce her she will get a little flustered.

Her flusteredness is very subtle though. It’s a blink and you might miss it kind of thing.

Her cheeks turn slightly red and she can't hold eye contact for as long as she normally does. 

Literally has no idea what she's doing. She has no prior experience or advice so she's in the dark. Please help guide her or be the dominant one.

Trying to figure out what she likes/dislikes and vice versa. 

I feel like she wants to top, but you’ll have to tell her what to do and if you like it or not. 

She also likes bottoming, and when you top you should overstimulate her. She won’t say it out loud but you can tell based on her expressions that she really enjoys it.

Doesn’t moan a lot so you’ll have to gauge your performance based off of her facial expressions and body language.

Likes it when you play or pull on her hair.

If she does a good job, please tell her. She loves being praised. 

Lee Songbaek

Sweet boy

Another one that asks if everything he's doing is okay and is very gentle with you because he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you.

He discovers that he’s a big fan of foreplay. Really likes to make you a panting mess before the main event happens.

Like Yu Iseol, I headcanon him as a switch. 

I feel like he’d want to do the face-off position during his first time. That or any position where his partner faces him because he likes the intimacy.

Also likes to watch you get off when you’re on top of him.

He seemed shy at first, but after you’ve seen each other inside and out (hahahahah) he’s going to be more honest and bold

Wants you to untie his hair and pull on it

Jin Geumryong

Another one I struggle to write for…

You have feelings for this guy? Bless your heart.

Likes being dominant and in control, but finds a witty partner that fights back exciting. 

If you try to fight for dominance you’re not gonna win. Nice try though!

Probably discovers that he’s into brat taming, and wants to do freakier shit but waits until next time because he doesn’t want to scare you off.

Will ask to tie you up to see if you two enjoy it, and you do.

When he marks you for the first time, he finds out he really likes making you squirm and will do it again.

Also enjoys overstimulating you.

Like Chung Myung, he will want to keep going until you’ve finished too. He might be a little mean but he’s not going to leave you unsatisfied.

[thedemises]

. . .  PAINTING NAILS (BY FORCE)! featuring mephistopheles!

contains! . . . lowercase writing, obey me! shall we date?, some swearing here and there, mephistopheles being a little jerk, probably ooc! mephistopheles cuz idk much about his character-, mc is a human-ram hybrid (having ears, horns, and some other characteristics and traits of a ram), mc is gender neutral, mc is strong?, mephisto being rammed over 💀 (no mepmep was injured in the making of this scenario), does "bloody hell" count as swearing?, got too lazy during the ending so it's kinda rushed 😔, mentioned the demon brothers, simeon, raphael, luke, and solomon! notes! . . .  an idea by me and good ol' buddy @ringdabel during a chat of ours that switched from talking about satan to his nails to the other characters to the painted nails of all the obey me characters (except for the angels, mephistopheles, and solomon)👍👍

mephistopheles feels like he ran a marathon but then he has the urge to run another mile because— bloody hell, why is that puny human exchange student so fast?

he, as a noble, never needed to run as much as he would need to in his whole life of existing. already having dozens of quite expensive cars in the ready to transport him with a snap of his fingers—but for some reason mephistopheles felt like running on foot like as if cerberus is hot on his tail was a good option.

wrong.

while most humans don't have much stamina and speed in the first place unless they train hardly for it, from what he had read, there's some others that are given the gift of incredible speed or the natural ability of endurance and stamina. rarely, even both.

and clearly enough—this peasant human, the HUMAN who managed to gain the pacts of all of the seven deadly sins AND survive a whole year in a realm where demons roam and most more likely to eat humans—was this close to snatching the tail cape of his attire off.

“COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHI—”

(well, the said human was turned into a human-ram hybrid when they were transferred to devildom in the first place, so that might've made their speed increase a bit more than an average human's speed—being half ram, after all).

“STOP chasing me, you human peasant!” he makes a sharp turn around a corner, letting his legs take him to demon-lord-knows-where, “i am NOT letting some rubbish paint be applied on my fingernails!!”

with loud yelling responding from behind his back, you declared, “NOT UNTIL YOU COMMIT TO HAVING YOUR NAILS BE PAINTED!!”

mephistopheles doesn't dare to look behind as he kept running in different directions, seemingly beginning to be out of breath when his pace grows irregularly.

the chase eventually doesn't last as long as he expected it to be when he was cornered in a room and then suddenly got rammed to the ground and was pinned down by the forced added weight on his chest, leaving him no other choice than to give up or attempt to resist it.

“KEEP YOUR FLITHY HANDS OFF OF ME!!” a low growl rumbles from his throat with his gritted teeth shown while he attempts to thrash around but you somehow prevent the demon from moving by holding him firmly, restraining his head by wrapping your dominant arm around the noble's neck as you pin down his arms with the other arm of yours.

“not until you let me paint your nails.”

“tch. why is getting my fingernails painted such a big deal to you, human?!” scoffing in disbelief at your insistence, the magenta-haired male tries pushing your body off his back but you don't budge a bit by your stubbornness.

damn, how come you're strong too? aren't humans supposed to be weak?!

“because,” you start, bringing a gloved hand of his closer to you as you inspect it, “doesn't lord diavolo have painted nails? heck, even barbatos and the seven brothers have their nails painted.”

ending your sentence with a determined toothy grin and one of your ram ears flicking a bit, you added, “besides, i think you'll look great with green-ish teal nail polish.”

mephistopheles clicked his tongue at that following a slight eye roll, scowling when you touched the dark patch of the back of his hair, “so? it'll be covered up when I wear my gloves either way, so it's useless and a waste of time.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

after a bit of eventual bickering, pleading, and some reluctance, mephisto finally agrees to your begging persuading with a, “... fine. but be quick about it though.”

turns out, painting your nails is a long, time-consuming process.

currently inside your room in the house of lamentation (who knows how you sneaked him inside without alerting the others), different nail polishes of varied colors were placed aside as both of you sat comfortably on your bed. as you held his now naked hand (after you told him to take his glove off) while carefully painting his nails in a cool green-ish teal color after prepping them and adding a base coat to make the pigment look better in the outcome, the demon sat in front of you with his legs folded underneath his thighs while resting his buttocks on the heels of his feet, his left arm outstretched to you.

during the mostly silent process, mephistopheles' black eyebrows were furrowed with his chin held slightly upwards as his eyes narrowed with skepticism and they held slight impatience but he didn't say anything. until now.

“why'd you want me to wear nail polish?... human.” his voice trailed off for a second, watching you finish painting his middle finger's nail before moving onto the next digit. response to the question, you shrugged your shoulders.

“don't know. the thought of you not wearing nail polish like the others irritated me—though simeon, raphael, luke, and solomon also don't wear nail polish either; so im gonna do their nails next after you.”

“by ramming into them?”

“no, but you were running away from me so i had no other choice.”

eventually, you finished painting all of the nails of his left hand and let him inspect the finished product before doing his other hand—observing the slightest changes in his expression while you waited for his acknowledgment.

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...” blinking at his freshly painted fingernails, mephistopheles doesn't speak out loud while he examines his teal-colored nails in silence.

then his eyes, hued a gradient of pear green and chartreuse, glanced up to stare back at you with the slightest satisfaction before darting to the side as the slightest flush appears on his cheeks and the demon nods his head at you slightly.

“... it looks awful.”

taken off guard, you took full offense to this unpleasant reaction. “excuse me? bitch, I took the time to chase you down, ram into you, paint your nails for a painstakingly long time, and this is how you thank me?”

“well i— ... i think it's alright.. i guess.” slightly startled by the sudden shift of attitude, he finally replies that gives you some satisfactory and the demon moves his hand to remove the other glove that his right hand is still wearing until he was eruptedly halted by you grabbing his wrist. “don't,” you firmly told him, dragging it to you and lightly tugged at the edge of his glove, “let the nail polish on your other hand set first for about one to two (1-2) hours before you do anything with it. now, may i?”

the demon's eyelids widened at the extended amount of time before they relaxed and he nodded with his ears turning slightly reddish at the last sentence, giving you permission to take off his glove for him—which you did, peeling it off from his wrist to the fingertips.

with his hand now bare, you begin doing the same prepping process like you did to his other hand before applying nail polish—letting the base coat set for two minutes beforehand and then, painting on the teal colored polish with patience and precise precision; not allowing the green apple-eyed demon to move from his spot (meanwhile, he was just uncharacteristically quietly observing while you worked on his nails—not that he'd admit it to your face or anything).

eventually after a long time, completing the progress of painting mephistopheles' green-ish teal nails and the drying process, you were finished.

after putting your supplies away, you sigh in relief as you flop backwards onto the soft mattress of your bed with your arms sprawled out—not paying attention to the magenta-haired noble in front of you—and closed your eyes.

“finally...” you murmur, making the demon glance at you with an arched eyebrow, “you were a pain in the ass to begin with but at least im finished.”

this ticked off mephistopheles quite a bit, “oi, oi, oi... i stayed completely still for you, peasant! is this how you react after pestering me to paint my nails?!”

“yeah, yeah... whatever.. you can kindly get out of my room now before any of the brothers—especially lucifer—find you, goodnight.”

“h- hey! don't just order me around like you can, human!- OI!!! don't ignore me!! AND DON'T FALL ASLEEP EITHER!!”

“zzZzzZzzzzzZzz...”

© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own. ━━  word count: 1,436.

[mackeydoodledoo]

Chapter 1: A Good Impression

Pairing: Lamina x (Fem!Mentor)Reader

Summary: Besides Sejanus, you had a heart among the 24 students to act as mentors. People made fun of you for getting paired with the girl who never stopped crying. But, you were going to do whatever it took to get her home.

Warnings: TBOSAS Spoilers, Injuries, Social Anxiety, Swearing

Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip

Theme: Softcore - The Neighborhood

A/n: Welcome to my first Lamina x Reader series! Idk how long I'm going to make this series :)

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

-------------------------------------------------

"Seven. Boy, Vipsania Sickle. Girl. Y/n Y/l/n," Dean Highbottom reads off the list

You look up to your female tribute... She huffs her shoulder upward. She was crying... You heard a few snickers. You really wanted to punch them in the face. But your heart was broken when you watched her cry.

"Looks like Y/n got the crybaby," Arachne snickers to you

You dead stare at her: she had always made remarks towards you but then look back up at the screen, catching one last glimpse of your tribute before it switches to the next district.

After the assigning ceremony, you find a spot outside of the area to just have time to think.

How am I going to make her a victor?...

"Looks like Y/n is having second thoughts about being assigned the crybaby of the tributes," Arachne says, coming up to you

"Lamina is not a crybaby," You say, looking up at her

You too never got along. But, since the both of you were in the same class, you were forced to tolerate her.

"Then, what is she to you? Don't tell me you are actually growing fond of your tribute now," She continues to belittle you

"Me? Fond of her? Please..." You say, "Unlike you, I have a heart. I'm going to make my tribute the best one out of all of you."

"I'd like to see you try, Y/l/n," Arachne stares you down

+*+

Both you and Coriolanus Snow waited at the train station. You look up at him: white rose in his hand and an anxious look on his face.

"With the stunt your tribute pulled at her reaping, she's already captured the capital's eyes," You tell him

"I just don't know how to get her to trust me," He says

Before you could offer some kind of advice that most likely wouldn't help his case in the slightest, traincars came to a hazardous stop. Both you and Snow make yourselves presentable.

As the peacekeepers forcefully grab the tributes out of the cars, both you and Snow look for your respective tributes.

Going off from your photographic memory: Lamina donned shoulder length red hair being tied back with a hair bandana.

Suddenly you see a girl with a matching description pass you by.

"L-Lamina," You anxiously call out to her

The girl stops and turns to you. Putting on your best smile, you reach into your pocket and present a small gift box.

"I-I know everything must be very frightening for you. But, i just wanted to Welcome you to the capitol," You try to keep a smile on

Despite you probably already fucked up your self-introduction.

But, Lamina doesn't answer. She doesn't even meet your gaze.

"I-uhhh," You begin to scramble your sentences, figuring out how to make her talk, "Made this myself."

You frantically tug at the ribbon, and open the lid.

"I... I never made anything of the sort in my life and. And. And-" You attempt to find the right words to even just speak

You gently take her hand, placing the shitty-made gift into her hand. She turns away from you, still not meeting your gaze.

Both you and Snow wistfully hop into the car just before any peacekeeper noticed two Academy students were in it.

An awkward silence sits upon the 24 tributes, you and Snow.

"What's the matter Capitol?" The boy from 11: Reaper asks, "You're in the wrong car."

"We should just kill them," The girl from 4: Coral suggests

Your eyes widen as the boy who was hovering around Lamina comes walking up to you. He presses his arm along your collar bones, pinning you to the back of the wall.

"Treech don't... She's my mentor," Lamina speaks for the first time

Treech's arm eases away from your collar bone. You are really going to have an interesting time...

"I reckon anything happen to them, something would happen to our loved ones back home," Lucy Gray states

"Then how come none of our mentors showed up?" Coral asks, "Why do you and the little crybaby get special treatment?"

"Because they don't know how to make a good first impression," You immediately answer, cocking a half smile, "That and... Most of them don't... Care like we do."

You werent actually sure if Snow cared about Lucy Gray. But, you knew you cared. Unlike your capitol classmates, except Sejanus, you never grew fond of the games... Having to be a mentor to a tribute who could die...

That's the real kicker to the gut.

Your eyes drift to Lamina. A slight smile appears on her face before she looks down at the floor.

The car came to an abrupt stop. You hear the sounds of the backup noise on a vehicle. All of you begin to waver from the car tilting. All of you begin to fall out of the truck, entering an exhibit.

As you begin to become aware of your surroundings, you recognize the place...

The Capitol zoo.... The hell?

A lot of the citizens on the other sidenof the cage began to murmur. You look over to see Snow absolutely terrified out of his mind.

I'll show him how it's done...

You stand onto your feet and strife towards the camera.

"Ahhh, Y/n Y/l/n," Lucky Flickerman makes his way toward you, "Now tell me, Was it required for you two to be in here with the other tributes?"

"Not exactly. For starters, they didn's tell us not to. Second, Snow and I wanted to leave a good first impression on our tributes," You say, "Let me introduce you all.. To my girl, Lamina."

You outstretched your hand and turn to look at her. She nervously stands to her feet. You walk over to her and gently grab her hand.

"I got you," You whisper, reassuring her

She nods as her hand closes around yours and follows close behind you. For once, she finally gazes up and sees the camera in her face.

"Tell us Lamina, what finally got you to stop crying once you got here?" Lucky asks

She let's go of your hand and reaches into her pocket and shows the half-assed gift you made.

"My mentor made it for me," She looks at you, "Didn't know someone like her could be talented."

"Is that so?" Lucky looks at you

"Like I said, I wanted to leave a good first impression," You smile

You conclude your small interview with Lucky and watch him walk over to Snow. You sigh in relief as you falter in the slightest.

"Do you have any food?" She asks, hiding into your chest

You reach into your skirt pockets and pull out some cookies.

"This is all I have for now," You say

As you place it into her hands, you felt an arm curl under yours and begin to pull you away.

"W-wait hold on!" You tell the peacekeeper

"Please...." Lamina sighs into your arm

She looks up at you, "Handful of us haven't eaten since our reaping..."

"I'll do what I can," You answer

Lamina let's go of your arm as she watches you get dragged out of the cage.

+*+

"Sejanus, got a second?" You ask him

He gets up from the table and you pull him aside.

"I need you to do me a favor," You say

"Yeah, of course," He says

You and Sejanus were close, not as close as he is with Corio. But, since the both of you share the dislike of the hunger games, was how you two grew close. You pull out a few sandwiches and other snacks.

"I need you to bring these to Lamina," You say

"Why don't you?" He asks

"I have a different idea," You say, "But this should tide her over for now."

He nods as he places them in his backpack.

"Done," He says

"You're the best," You smile, patting him on the shoulder

You hastily walk into the kitchen.

"Y/n honey?" Your mother looks up from her work, "Shouldn't you be at lunch right now?"

Your family were cooks for the academy. Not the most glamorous job in the capitol since the dark days, but it got your family around since. Your family taught you, so the academy allowed you to enter the kitchen at anytime you want.

"Kindof, but I want to cook a meal for my tribute," You say, "Enough to last her until the games."

"I know the perfect meal," Your mother goes into the recipie archive

+*+

You take a step back from your creation. Your mom giving you a congratulatory pat on the back.

"I'll wrap it up for you," Your mom tells you

"Thanks mom," You say, continuing to gaze at your masterpiece

+*+

"Psst, Lamina," You quietly call her

The redhead sits up and rubs her eyes. But seemed to fully awaken once she realized it was you.

"Y/n," Lamina sighs, slightly smiling, "Wait how did you get in here?"

"Perks of having a decent amount of money to keep us on our feet," You say, "But enough of that, I brought you something."

You place your backpack down and carefully take out a wrapped meal.

"Y/n," She sighs

Before you even handed her your personal cooked meal, you noticed in her eyes of how shaken up she was.

"Hey, what happened?" You asked

"The girl from 10... She killed her mentor, in which the peacekeepers shot her..." She explains

"Holy shit...." You mutter

You saw that she could smell the food. As you hand it to her, she nearly tears right into the wrapping.

"It's enough to last you until the games," You say

*Lamina's POV* The smell of the food overwhelmed you. You look up at her, waiting for her. But, she nods. You immediately indulge yourself into the meal.

"Oh my- how did you?-"

"Perks of having cooks for parents," Y/n says, "They teach you everything you need to know about cooking."

"Ahh, that must really be nice," You say, "Back home my parents really just taught me how to chop wood for our essential use while they were working at our log factories."

"Do you... Have siblings back home?" She asks

"Got a younger brother," You answer, "But, he's a mere baby. He won't remember me when I die."

"Hey," She coos, reaching out for your hand, "Don't say that. He deserves to have an older sister to look up to."

"I can't guarantee that I'm going to win," You look down at your joined hands

"I'm going to get you home," She says, "I have to go but... Eat up."

She gives your hand a gentle, but firm squeeze as she stands. She takes one last look at you before she makes her leave.

*Y/n's POV* You honestly didn't really want to leave her. You would stay at her side all night if you could. But, you didn't want to upset your family as to why you hadn't returned home.

+*+

You walk into class the next morning...

"You and Snow made quite the impression on the viewers yesterday Y/l/n," Dean Highbottom says

"I only wanted to leave a good impression on my tribute," You say

"I wouldn't recommend getting too close," He suggests

"Trust me Dean, I won't," You say, taking a seat at your usual spot in the class

"I find that hard to believe," He says, "I'm very fond of you, because of your hard work Y/l/n. I only wish you the best."

Though you only try your best to be in the good graces of people. Though that often makes you a pushover to a lot of the capitol students who want to make it to the top. It was like you unintentionally try, and somehow you do the best.

+*+

A peacekeeper shackles Lamina's wrists to the table.

"You all have thirty minutes to discuss strategy for the interviews," Highbottom announces, "You may begin."

You sit down, Lamina doesn't look at you.

"Frankly it's so unnecessary to be shackling all of you like this," You say, "How are you holding up?"

Her lip begins to quiver...

Oh boy...

Immediately she brings her hands up to her face and begin to silently cry to herself.

"Hey," You coo to her

You gently grasp her shackled hands, and slowly bring them down onto the table.

"Lamina, look at me," You calmly tell her

*Lamina's POV* Trying to pull yourself together, and slowly raise your head to look at Y/n. Suddenly, you felt no fear... You no longer felt like crying. You nearly twitch back when you saw Y/n's hand being to rise towards your cheek.

"Sorry," She says, nearly drawing her hand back

However, still feeling calm in her presence, you allow her to gently wipe your face from any tears.

*Y/n's POV* "These interviews are important for you all," You begin to explain, "This will help you get donations from sponsors for the games. However, it'll help me too so that I can send you items that you may need while you're in the arena..."

Lamina begins to cry again...

"Hey hey shhhhh," You calm her, "Do you remember what you told me last night?"

She nods.

"We need to get people to empathize with you, make them feel like they can relate to you," You suggest

"You want them to pity me?" She asks, "Hell no..."

"Lamina," You sigh, clasping your hands over hers, "I don't care about winning for me. I care about winning for you. Winning for you would mean that you'd survive in that arena and you'd get to go home."

"I still don't want them to pity me," Lamina sighs

"Not pity, empathize with you," You say, "Make them feel like they are able to connect with you."

Your fingers brush against her cheek, brushing hair away from her head.

"I'll... I'll try," Lamina says

"Atta girl," You smile

"Time's up," Highbottom says

The peacekeepers begin to forcefully take the tributes back.

"H-hey! Easy with her!" You try to tell the peacekeepers handling her

You were about to reach up to them to escort her back yourself. However, Highbottom grabs your arm and shakes his head.

+*+

You decided to pay Lamina another visit.

"Hey Lamina," You whisper

She turns over; her face lighting up.

"How are you holding up?" You ask, "Those peacekeepers earlier were really man-handling you guys... I was about to sock one in the jaw and escort you back myself..."

"You're too kind," She smiles

"I only want to leave you with a good impression of me," You sigh

"You've already done that," She confesses

"Really? Since when?" You ask

"Since the day you were at the train station," She says

"Now you're too kind," You chuckle, "You know... Even though they taught us to think lowly of the districts, and that you all were monsters. But, getting to know you... It taught me that the capitol was wrong... You.. Proved them wrong."

Lamina doesn't answer you. It caused you to look at her, worrying that you said something wrong.

"I-uhh," You immediately bolt to your feet, "I have to go but- but I'll see you tomorrow for the tour of the arena."

You reluctantly turn your back to her and begin making your way to the entrance, where your mother awaited for your return.

+*+

You meet with Lamina for the tour of the arena. Lamina clung to your arm. From the corner of your eye, a peacekeeper was about to pull Lamina away from you.

"It's fine," You tell them, not allowing them to touch her

Enjoy the Show

Lamina jumps at the saying once the both of you pass the turnstile gate.

"Hey, camera on Coral," Festus Creed gets the camera crew to focus on her

You roll your eyes.

Try-hard...

The lights illuminate the concrete arena. To think people would actually sit in the arena and watch children murder each other was an outrageous concept to you.

"Mentors and Tributes, you have one hour to walk around the Arena and devise a strategy," An announcement echoes

Chapter 2

[whoredmode]

kind of a headcanon/lore dump?? idk whatever you wanna call it. whatever it is. dewynter sisters stuff no one asked for but they’ve been on my mind and i don’t think i’ve really shared much of my hcs for them.

so if you keep up with my rewrites/my canon, you know that kiki and viola are mercenaries sent by ultor to kill loren (and later dex). here’s some more basic lore. this is all barely scratching the surface of all the lore and thoughts i have on them, so by all means feel free to ask me stuff. and honestly i’ll probably end up making more posts like this in the future (for them and others) if people are interested.

father: hendrik dewynter

mother: akane dewynter (née ueno)

their father is dutch and french while their mother is japanese and filipino.

as far as their general background goes, they were born in the netherlands, traveled with their parents for their work a lot, and were raised in both europe and the united states. both twins are fluent in dutch, french, and japanese.

both parents have been working in the criminal underworld for decades and have essentially been training the girls to become the mercenaries they are since they were young. hendrik and akane work primarily in illegal arms deals, and they use their cover as high society people to facilitate that. all this led to some familiarity with some syndicate members pre-loren’s leadership, but more so through their high society connections. worth noting i don’t believe the syndicate leaned as heavily into arms dealing until after loren became head of it because that was his area of expertise as well. regardless, hendrik and akane and their network got into illegal arms trade and espionage predominantly within western europe. when they had the twins, they were trained from a young age to become the perfect spies, assassins, whatever. this unintentionally made it so the girls really only trusted each other. they are not a close family. the dewynter’s see their relationship with their daughters as more of a business arrangement. almost transactional. they’d argue that what they put them through was for them to succeed, but in turn it just dissolved any chance of a meaningful relationship between them. despite this, or perhaps because of this, they became extremely adept mercenaries. keep in mind though that all this shit about the dewynter family was not widely known. hendrik and akane still had their regular careers as covers, and it’s why the twins have their backgrounds in economics and art.

regardless, loren was delighted to have them working within the syndicate—however he did not know that them asking to work for him directly was because they were being employed by ultor to sell secrets and eventually kill him. it also helped that they could speak dutch and french to him; there were many instances of the three of them having conversations that matt and killbane could not understand (which bothered the latter to no end).

the twins themselves only have a sense of loyalty to each other, and they do their work based on who’s paying best and what they believe they should do with their information they’re given. it’s why viola switches sides so easily after the death of kiki. money may have been their endgame, but the one thing they put above that is each other.

fwiw, viola does go back to doing mercenary work after the events of my sriv rewrite conclude. she’s one of several characters who leave the saints at the end. she allows them to keep in contact with her though. this whole thing kicks off a bit of a cat and mouse game she and shaundi have, but that’s for another post (oh wait i already made one kinda. happy shaunviola saturday).

this is getting away from me. also i wrote this all while really tired so apologies if it’s a little scattered. i love kiki and viola.

[tangerinesgf]

Why Didn't You Listen?

Tangerine x fem!reader (reader’s codename is Kiwi, because I like Kiwi’s and it sounds cute)

Summary: Tangerine warns you to get off the train before it reaches Kyoto. Unfortunately you don’t listen to him.  

Tags/warnings: angst, language, character death, hurt no comfort, mentions of blood/ injuries (a bit graphic I guess)

A/N: Idk where this came from, but I suddenly had inspiration. It got super angsty for no particular reason other than that I felt like it, so sorry in advance.

Based on the prompt: "I love you, for fuck's sake! And I need to know that you're safe!" "Sounds like that's just your problem." By @creativepromptsforwriting

“For fuck’s sake would ya just listen to me for once?” 

Tangerine was almost running after you as you walked from one train car to the other, not really paying attention to what he had to say to you. He found you casually strolling around the almost empty train when he was looking for Lemon. 

He couldn't understand how he missed you, since he had been walking up and down this train for at least 2 hours now.

"Oh because that worked out so well for me the last time!” You sneered at him. 

The last time you trusted anything Tangerine had to say you ended up with a bullet in you left shoulder that, by the way, still hadn’t fully healed. Even though he had apologized for what must have been a hundred time already. 

“I told you I was fuckin’ sorry about that.” he reminded you with a hint of hostility in his voice, clearly exhausted of having to say it again. 

“Doesn’t mean I suddenly trust you, now does it?” You picked up the pace of your steps, hoping that Tangerine would just give up and walk away. 

Unfortunately for you he did the exact opposite. 

Tangerine ran up from behind you and grabbed your arm, turning you to face him. “You can’t be here, alright? Shit’s going to go tits up.” 

“Shit has clearly already gone tits up, Tangerine, look at yourself.” you pointed out, looking him over.

Tangerine’s hair had turned back into it’s normal curly state, his suit was crumbled and smudged and there was blood all over him.

“Wait-” he grabbed your arm once again before you could walk too far from him. “Look, the White Death is waiting for us in Kyoto-” 

“I couldn’t really give a fuck if the bloody devil was waiting for us in Kyoto, I am not getting off of this train before I've completed my job.” 

You ripped your arm out of his grasp and started to walk away again. 

“Please, Kiwi, get out of here while you still can.” he practically begged you.

"No one's gonna kill me Tangerine, I can take care of myself." You insisted as the distance between the two of you grew, Tangerine not following behind you.

Goddamit, why wouldn't you just fucking listen to him? Tangerine knew damn well you could take care of yourself, but even he himself wasn't as stubborn as to take the chance to face The White Death.

Before he could really think them through, the next words already came out of his mouth.

"I love you, for fuck's sake! And I need to know that you're safe!" he yelled out after you. 

You stopped in your tracks, unsure of what to say to that. You and Tangerine had known each other for a few years now, running into each other during jobs, but also having been paired up a handful of times. 

And yeah there had been a lot of tension between the two of you, seemingly endless nights where you couldn’t stop talking after you’d patched each other up.

However after he’d gotten you shot you had kind of discarded any idea of a relationship with the man. He had told you to take the back exit instead of the front, so you wouldn't run into anyone. Instead there were 4 guys there who gave a scar to remember them by.

You took a deep breath before finally answering him. "Sounds like that's just your problem." It was probably a little harsher then he deserved, but it got the job done, because as you started to walk off he didn’t follow you anymore. 

Tangerine was left standing in the middle of the path as he watched you leave, he could only hope you’d make the right decision. 

After the train crash

He knew he should have run after you. Dragged you off of the train himself if he had to. But he didn’t, he let you go you own way, trusting that you could take care of yourself.  

Instead Tangerine had gone to find Lemon, thinking he would catch up with you later. In all the chaos of thinking his brother was dead, killing the prince and then finding out Lemon was actually still alive followed by a train crash, he had completely forgotten about you. 

He and Lemon had gotten out relatively unharmed, which was a miracle in itself. But of course that feeling of relief didn’t last very long. It hit Tangerine as they stepped off the train, careful not to fall over the debris of the train. 

He stops dead in his tracks. 

“Kiwi.”

Lemon hadn’t realized that his brother stopped walking and turned around at the mention of the name.

“What does she have to do with this?” his brother asked. 

“She was on the train.” As he says this Tangerine’s eyes start scanning the crash site, looking for any sign of you.

“What?” Lemon asked, confusion plastered all over his face, but Tangerine had already stopped listening, focused on finding Kiwi. God he hoped you were still alive. 

“We gotta find her, Lem.” 

Tangerine searched through the wreckage of the train like a madman. He had to find you. Alive. He didn’t know what he would do if- No, you’re okay, you could take care of yourself, he had nothing to worry about. 

“She could have just gotten off the train, ya know.” Lemon didn’t sound particularly worried as he said this, but then again you had only met Lemon a hand full of times in comparison to Tangerine.

Maybe he had a point, he warned you about the White Death, so he figured you’d be smart enough to get off in time. That’s probably why he couldn’t find you. Relief flowed through him, that’s until his eyes caught your little green backpack in the middle of a huge pile of rubble. 

No. 

He rushed over to it as fast as he could. Standing over the pile of debris he pulled the backpack free, there was blood on it. Looking further he spotted what he knew had to be your foot sticking out from the pile. “Shit, fuck, Lemon help me out ‘ere, think I found her.” 

Tangerine started to remove rocks and pieces of train off of you as Lemon joined him, doubling the effort. 

"Love?" He called out for you, hoping for a sign that you were still breathing underneath there.

But there was no response, no breathing or movement from where you lay.

As your body started to slowly come into view Tangerine started to lose hope in the fact that you might be still alive. There were injuries and blood all over your body from being thrown around during the crash. 

He hesitated to remove the final piece of debris that was still covering your face, not sure if he could handle what he would find. Knowing they couldn’t just leave you here, he slowly removed the piece of what had probably been part of a coffee cart once. 

His breath got caught in his throat as he could now see your entire body. Your face was covered, no drenched in blood so much that there was barely any clean skin visible. There was a huge wound on your forehead. He hoped that you had died instantly on impact with whatever you had hit, because the wound looked nasty and he wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer any longer. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility that you had still been alive under that pile of rubble and might have slowly bled to death.

Tangerine felt his body starting to shake and before he knew it his legs gave out from under him and he fell to the ground next to you. Lemon took a step back, understanding that he needed a moment. 

He pulled his handkerchief out of his retrieved suit jacket and started to wipe the blood of your face. Silent tears were streaming down his cheeks as your face became visible to him once more, little cuts and bruises littering your face. His breathing became ragged and he found it harder and harder to keep looking at your broken form.  

Your eyes were still open, but none of the joy and life they usually held was there. Now the only thing he could see in your eyes was emptiness mixed with a hint of fear.

You must have been so scared, god why didn’t he stick with you. Maybe he could have convinced you to leave after all. Or maybe he could have protected you during the crash. And while all the different possibilities and outcomes ran through his head he knew that there was nothing he could do about it now.

Dammit, why hadn't you just listened to him, when he had told you to leave.

As he finished cleaning your face as much as possible, he took a deep breath looking over you once more. The only time he told you he loved you was during an argument and you had left like you didn’t even care about him. But Tangerine knew you did. You always had just like him. The two of you had just been too stupid to tell each other. 

And now it was too late. 

He leaned over you once more and carefully closed your eyes. The empty look it held was replaced by a soft one. It almost looked like you were just sleeping. 

Before he got up he placed a kiss on the uninjured side of your forehead. 

“'Till we meet again, love” 

A/N: sorry not sorry..

Taglist: @megumisbabymomma @venusthepirate @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @wrendermeuseless @waiting4ff @kpopgirlbtssvt​ @dontknownameauthor​ @thirstyfortangerine @earth-elemental18​ @sisterlytherinog (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Hmmm haven't really made requests before so feel free to disregard this is you don't feel it UK?

Maybe something like unrequited love? I'm a sucker for some angst. Maybe Neteyam and a fierce warrior who he feels he doesn't deserve? Idk I suck a this😭. Hope you're doing good💛

Ahh! Thank you hun, you're the best. I hope I did it justice, you and me both here with the 'new to requests' thing. Fingers crossed.

Part 2

~

A blow to the gut made you stumble and large hands tried to pin you but you were too quick. Pushing yourself, you skilfully dodged your attacker’s punch, then gripped their wrist in a fierce grip, twisting it behind their back. 

With a grunt they landed hard on their stomach when you swept their feet from under them, signalling the end of your match. Applause and laughter broke out from the rest of your team, who had been observing and you whooped happily in success. 

“That’s two out of three Sa’ott. Ready to admit defeat now?”

Sa’ott grinned at you and accepted your help in getting up then shoved you playfully, “Fine, I’ll let you have your win this time boss.”

“Sa’ott!” The Na'vi's face went pale, grin slipping right off at the sound of Neteyam’s voice and the rest of your team all clammed up, their easy going demeanour turning composed and disciplined once more. 

“Is this how a warrior behaves?!” Neteyam’s booming voice stilled the male, turning him into a stuttering mess.

“N- no. N- no S Sir.”

“Then stop playing around and get back to your drills! All of you!” He barked.

Neteyam’s words were directed to your team, but his anger was all for you and it sent a jolt of chills down your back. Without a glance in your direction they all ran off, leaving the two of you alone. 

Ticked off, you glared at him, “Was that really necessary? He’s one of my men! How I choose to train is my choice!”

“That....was not training. The hell is wrong with you? Since when did you start acting so childish?” His jab angered you.

“Childish? Oh that’s rich coming from you. It’s not a crime if I let loose sometimes! It helps, and my team becomes stronger and closer that way. It can’t be all about drills and orders.”

“Tough! That’s all it is. You’re a unit leader, you’re supposed to be leading by example, not having a pissing contest with dumbasses in the middle of drill training for Eywa sake!” His lips curled in disgust “He was flirting with you.”

You knew for sure that Sa’ott wasn’t, he had a mate of his own who he was completely obsessed with. With a quirk of an eyebrow you said, “So?”

“So?” His jaw ticked. “Aha, well you sure move on quick, considering...” His words were mean but you took it in stride. 

“You almost sound jealous.”

His face hardened. “Well I’m not! It’s not happening. We’re not happening…or have you forgotten our conversation already? I told you-”

Now it felt like a slap in the face. “Stop. I was there, I don’t need a reminder. It was mortifying enough that I confessed my feelings for you and you rejected me…but I won’t allow you to make me feel bad about it.”

Turning to walk away, frustration bubbled. You couldn’t seem to help yourself though. Answers. You needed answers.

Facing him again, you wiped a bead of sweat off your brow. “I don’t get it, Neteyam. You act as if you care about me, you shoo away any male that even comes near me but yet you say you don’t want me? You can’t have it both ways!”

His face remained passive. “You’re right. I apologize if my actions showed I cared because I assure you…I don’t.”

Ouch, that hurt.

“So do whatever you want, I won’t get in your way again.” He turned to leave but your hurt got the best of you and you shoved his back, hard, causing him to stumble.

When he turned to face you with an angry snarl on his face you shoved his chest this time, cutting off his speech. You knew it was probably childish but you so what? You had finally snapped.

With a frustrated cry and another furious shove, you questioned him. 

“What is the matter with you? Why do you keep pretending?! I am not blind. I know what I feel between us! Why are you fighting this huh? Tell me the truth already Neteyam because I am tired of the circles we’re going in, I don’t know how much more of your rejection I can handle. So what is it? Am I not good enough for you or something?”

“Aha!” He let out a loud sarcastic laugh which simmered into a bitter chuckle. “Not good enough….that’s funny.”

He closed the distance between you two and gripped your jaw in a firm grip forcing you to meet his eyes as he glared down at you. “It’s quite the opposite sweetheart.” He spat the nickname as if it were a curse. 

You gripped his wrist trying to pull free from his grasp but he only held tighter and a pang of fear mixed with something else erupted in your chest. 

“You are the bane of my existence, everything you do irritates me and your presence is completely and insufferably suffocating…is what I want to say…”

You licked your lips, trying to ignore the hurt his words inflicted upon you, “What do you really want to say then?”

His eyes danced between yours, flickering left, right, left, right as he contemplated what to say.

“…I’m the one that’s not good enough for you, I don’t deserve you.” 

Silence.

“Nete-”

He released you then stepped back as if your touch burned him, wiping his palm on his thigh. “Don’t read into it. Just drop it alright. From now on I’ll leave you alone, I won’t chase off your little boyfriends. I won’t interrupt your roughhousing or comment on your training tactics. I won’t act as if I care."

That’s the last thing you wanted. You weren’t a crier but right now your emotions were all over the place and you wanted nothing more than to hide and bawl your eyes out. Rejection was a wretched feeling, it stung bad.

He pinched the bridge of his nose looking pained. “Forget about it sweetheart. I’m no good.” When he looked up again, his emotionless mask was visible once more. “We’ll just go back to how we used to be, right?”

Refusing to beg or show him how much he was hurting you right now, you swallowed down the lodge in your throat and gave a jerky nod. “Right. Whatever you want, Sir.” 

You knew the ‘Sir’ would get to him, judging by his flinch. You reported to him and from day one he had refused to have you call him Sir. But if this was how he wanted it then so be it. 

“Is that it? Can I be dismissed?” 

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s it. Dismissed.”

And with that you walked away, head held high.

~

I'm sorry if there were any errors.

Please reblog, like and let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments :)

Take care for now.

[bunnygirl678]

it's valentine's day, i'm sick so i didn't go bar hopping like i had planned on doing, this is my first single valentine's day in like 7 years and tbh i was looking forward to drinking like i was 22 again, lmao, so in turn y'all are gonna get a bull tauros riding au, little back story, my father and most of my male relatives were bull riders in their younger years so i grew up around the culture and i'm from Texas (fun fact I have the Texas flag above my bed like i'm a frat boy lmao) Also this is probably more along the lines of gameverse?

-Our tauros riders are red and green

-they're competitive with each other, they've been rivals since their mutton wooloo bustin days, they've both got their fair share of buckles, red is the current world champ

-they have a little secret though, they're mutually in love with each other but neither will admit

-red doesn't speak to most people, won't do interviews, he'll talk to Green though, Green on the other end will take any sponsorship he can get, is constantly doing interviews, loves the attention

-then some new comers pop up on the scene, we've got the mysterious redheaded cowboy with a chip on his shoulder named Silver, and he's itching to take the title from Red

-who is Silver? well turns out he's the son of Giovanni, the previous champion who came out of retirement to go up against red,

-but Giovanni got hurt, bad, like he almost died, Silver blames Red for what happened to his father, but Silver looks nothing like his father and doesn't use his name so no one knows who he is, but he wants revenge

-Silver refuses to make friends with anyone, even though Green keeps reaching out, desperately trying

-then there's Gold, a buckle bunnelby (buckle bunny is a term for "fake" country girls who hang around rodeos trying to date the cowboys) who has a thing for redheads

-Gold takes interest in Silver, who is up and coming winning a bunch, there's more to Gold than meets the eye, Silver ends up letting Gold hang around him a lot and falls for the cutie the more he gets to know the real him

-Green too becomes close with Gold, but not in a romantic way (remember he's hopelessly in love with his rival), problem is Red doesn't know that

-Red gets jealous that Green and Gold hang around together he starts lashing out a bit towards Gold, now Silver already hates Red but watching Red be an ass to Gold pisses him off even more

-they're practicing together, Red is being a super asshole to Gold, and Gold is done. He gets up on a bull before Silver/Green can stop him,

-Guess what, Gold was an up and coming rider before he suddenly quit, after proving himself he jumps off leaving everyone flabbergasted and just keeps walking,

-Silver ends up going after him, because he thought they were friends why would he never tell him, Gold admits crying that his mom passed from an extended illness and he couldn't bring himself to keep going, it had always been their thing, whereas with Silver it was the opposite, he had never been interested until his dad got hurt

-Silver convinces Gold to start riding again, suddenly he's not as interested in revenge but wants to see Gold succeed, late one night after a particularly grueling training Gold leans in and kisses Silver, Silver kisses back, they're together now <3

-Red pushes himself harder, Green announces that he's going to retire at the end of the season, Red is heart broken the best part of riding is competing against Green, and he really won't see Green anymore if he retires, like he knows it's the end of their friendship

-it's finally time for the big finals, red, green, silver, gold are the top contenders, Silver places 4th, he and his father share a nice moment, he's upset he didn't beat Red, but he found love awwww

-green places 3rd, he's happy, says he's looking forward to starting the next chapter of his life (maybe he gets a ranch idk), but there's a sadness in his eyes when he looks at red, regret for things never said or done

-it's down to red vs gold, red hates gold, he thinks green likes him, doesn't know about silver, ect ect

-gold wins 1st, he's the new champion, he points the sky and says 'look mama i did it!' very sweet and emotional, silver runs out kissing his boy, not only did gold do amazing and fulfilled his dream, he beat red effectively getting revenge in silver's eyes

-red is like wait???? gold is with silver???? then he's like oh shit green must be heartbroken, that was why he looked so sad, he goes to find green and tell him how sorry he was, and at first green thinks it's about him placing 3rd and he's kinda pissed about it, like it feels condescending

-but red is like you deserve better than gold anyway, and green is like wait what? you thought i liked gold?? no you big dummy i like you!

-thinking it's his last chance, green kisses red, who immediately kisses back

-leads to 'oh wait i thought this was one-sided'

-red who really cares more about green than his title announces his retirement, he and green settle down on a ranch growing old together

-gold rides a few more seasons then retires as well, he and silver breed tauros and live happily ever after

[hamartia-grander]

Had a crazy ass dream last night that I was in star wars and I had two kids I'd adopted bc their parents died, one was a 10yo boy whose name I don't remember but it started with an M and the other was a ~2yo boy named Bianco and somehow he could full on sprint but he was also tiny enough for me to cradle in my arms. And we were on a planet that doesn't exist in star wars and looked like a place I'm 100% certain I've never seen in my life. Also it was set right after the Empire took over so we (me, my kids, and our village) were trying to escape our planet for whatever reason and the Empire showed up to "save us" but dream me knew the Empire was actually bad so when I saw an AT-AT walker approaching I took my kids and ran and we hid in a ground level entrance to a sewer idk what it's called. The entrance led to an underground hideout which we lived in (idk what was happening on this planet but it must've been some kinda war or smthn) and my irl mom was also there and she told me we had to wait to leave until the empire was gone, and I said we'd have to wait months because they'd probably never leave, and also we're out of food so we have to find another way out. She was like oh yeah I have contact with someone who has a ship they can get us out. So then I grabbed my kids and we ran to this ship, we had to go a long way bc the empire was everywhere, and we get to the ship but turns out it's a huge shipyard with many ships ready to take off, and the one we were supposed to get on was a weird X-wing that doesn't actually exist in star wars like it was huge and shaped funny but I knew it was an X-wing. Anyway, we got on board to leave, I remember holding Bianco in my arms and soothing both boys with a story, and then the dream switched and I was suddenly in Jill's apartment from RE3R. I wasn't Jill myself but I lived in her apartment. And I was looking out the window to see if the guy on his motorcycle outside was stalking me (it looked just like when you look out Jill's window except I could see the alley between her building and the one across) and turns out the guy on his motorcycle wasn't stalking me he was actually tailing Leah Sava Jeffries who appeared on the street below, and she was dressed like Annabeth in the series but like dream me knew it was actually her and not Annabeth. Anyways as soon as I realised that I turned and grabbed my sword (I suddenly had a fucking sword that was celestial bronze like in the percy jackson books) and ran down to warn her. I ran into Jill herself on the way down and she was like what's wrong and I said "I have to help Leah" and she let me go. I got down there and Leah was already fighting a group of other kids that all had orange shirts on and I realised it was a camp half blood training course. I helped her fight them off and then we all went back to our houses for the night. Then I woke up.

[scoops-aboy86]

Wiggly Wednesday!!! 🪱💕

This is so weird, I was off camping over Monday and Tuesday so this feels like a Monday to me now that I'm back at work, but it is... not. It's Wednesday. Weird.

Anyway, thanks for the tag on this @runninriot and @hotluncheddie! You want a wiggly idea? Okay, here's a wiggly idea.

My go-to "I need to cry about something" movie is Interstellar, and I watched it recently so it's on my mind.

Steve as Matthew McConaughey, Dustin as the kid who grows up to Have The Idea, Eddie as Anne Hathaway, and Wayne as Professor Michael Caine. Robin, Hopper, and Jeff are those boxy-looking robots, ROBS HOPP and JEFF. The people already sent out to collect info from different places across the big scary frontier include: Dr. Brenner (original leader of the program, taking the place of Matt Damon), Dr. Owens (the guy from the last place they go to), and Joyce (I'm sorry, but she's the one who got smashed on impact by the big wave in the movie). There's still a worldwide blight, caused by the spores from the Upside Down.

Steve crash lands in Hawkins. Idk what he crashes, a plane or something. Unlike the movie, this story isn't about going into space, it's about going into the Upside Down. Nancy is barely a footnote, but their relationship falls apart once everyone realizes that Barb didn't disappear, she was killed in Steve's crash. Steve ends up renting a room at the Henderson's, which Claudia is a huge fan of because her husband has passed away and this way Dusty gets a big brother. Steve also gets some sort of certificate and becomes a guidance counselor at the school… basically a professional babysitter. He gets dragged back into whatever his original job was when Dustin and his friends follow their wonky compasses to a super secret government base, where Steve meets Eddie and his old boss Wayne and the kids meet El. She's still in training to close all the gates; plan A is for Steve and Eddie's team to go into the Upside Down to find the source of the hive mind and disable it, and plan B is to wait until she's strong enough to just shut the whole dimension out of ours again.

This is about as far as I have it strongly plotted out, but basically time is wonky over there, speeding up and slowing down in different areas. The spores on Earth grow into demodogs and demogorgons if not burned off in time, but in the UD there's a greater variety of monsters and problems—like the bats. They get to Brenner's site and don't pick up on the fact that he's been flayed right away, because they've never seen it before; they have to kill him, but not before gleaning the info that the hive mind is likely at Dr. Owens' site.

It is, of course, a trap. Like in ST, Henry Creel is at the heart of it and El piggybacks in to fight him directly. Henry dies, for sure. And it turns out that the hive mind wasn't the problem, it becomes relatively inert once he's out of the equation and the monsters and spores start returning back through the gates to their home.

Steve and Eddie (now in love) get back to Earth in the nick of time before El finally closes all the gates, trapped in amber just enough that they're now the same age as Dustin and the rest of the kids. Maybe ROBS gets a new robot chassis that looks more like Maya Hawke and she and Steve remain besties 5ever. And they all live happily ever after, the end.

Coming soon to a word doc in my general vicinity, eventually. Probably. We shall see.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

surrender | boo seungkwan

I’m back!!! I wrote this awhile ago but didn’t have time to post it. Hope you enjoy!!! Idk if there are any warnings. Lil bit enemies to lovers, soonyoung makes an appearance, there’s a part that is inspired by business proposal (kdrama)…. Enjoy

It is finally time for your office's volunteer summer camp -- an expedition into the forest that you have historically taken very seriously. It would be completely perfect if it weren't for Boo Seungkwan, the annoyingly handsome, eloquent, confident head of the sales team, who was your ultimate competition for best camp counselor every year. The role came easily to you -- an HR professional with years of experience building company culture into something people would quit their jobs to join -- but he somehow also had a natural affinity for the job. Probably all that smooth-talking sales swindling he does, you think to yourself as you hop out of your car and grab a box out of your trunk.

There is only one girl's head counselor, and two boys'. This year, a newcomer has replaced last year's other candidate -- someone named Kwon Soonyoung. You hope he'll take your side in what promises to be the most intense year of rivalry yet, as you and Seungkwan battle for the coveted title of best camp counselor -- a title that comes with an extra week of paid vacation time.

You put Seungkwan out of your mind as you set about decorating your campsite. The theme for this camp was Ancient Cultures, and you had decided to decorate based off a viking theme. Your girls would become warriors, but could also participate in cool camp activities that were on-theme, like braiding each other's hair and adding beads, painting their faces, and — the crowning event of the camp festivities — playing capture the flag. Your team was the reigning champion, having beat Seungkwan’s team two years running, and you were not about to relinquish your title without a fight.

You have almost finished constructing the huge viking ship entrance when he discovers you. "Wow," he says, seemingly impressed at the work you've already put in. "All this work just to lose to me?"

You scoff. "It's my year, Boo Seungkwan," you sing from atop the ship, using a screwdriver to attach the wooden dragon head to the bow of the ship. “Just like every other year.”

"Actually," he says, leaning against a tree, "I think we both need to be worried."

"About what?" you ask, looking around for your wrench.

"Kwon Soonyoung," Seungkwan says seriously. "He's not messing around."

"What do you mean?" you say. You begin using the wrench you found to loosen a floorboard in the ship that looks a little out-of-place.

"You should see his campsite. It's been decorated since I got here at 2."

You roll your eyes. "I get that you want to distract me, but I'm a bit busy here, so I'm gonna have to ignore you."

He shrugs and strolls away. "You're welcome for the heads-up," he says over his shoulder. "Come by later. I'd love to show you around my site."

The girls begin arriving one by one, until there are 26 altogether. This is your biggest group yet, and you start by touring the campsite. You’re quite proud of how it all turned out: electric flaming torches that will light up at night are scattered between tents, a heavy hand-painted tapestry that you worked on for six months is hanging in the pavilion, and there are large fur rugs in each of the nice tents.

The girls are amazed by all of it. They quickly take to the Viking activities, the older girls copying the Norse symbols in face paint on their cheeks and arms and braiding the younger girls’ hair. The most outspoken girl is a thirteen-year-old named Heejin, who has already braided her hair and looks ready for battle. You note her eyeing the foam swords and make a point to do some training for capture the flag later.

Your dad stops by in the evening for dinner, accompanied by a young kid dressed in a Roman soldier’s tunic, helmet, and staff. He looks amused. “This centurion helped me find you,” he says, ushering his employees over to the pavilion, where they start to set up the feast for your campers. The centurion bows to him and then, hand on his chest, shouts, “Praetor Seungkwan requests the presence of the General at his Camp with her cohort. Shall I bear news of your imminent arrival?”

Always so theatrical, you think to yourself, unable to suppress a smile. “Yes, soldier,” you say back, and he nods stoically. “Can you keep an eye on things, Dad?”

He nods, amused, and you grab Heejin, the tallest girl, Eunbi, and a loquacious ten-year-old named Jiwoo. “Where are we going?” Jiwoo asks.

“We’re headed into enemy territory,” you whisper conspiratorially. The girls grin at you. “Keep a wary eye out.”

Together, the four of you follow the Roman soldier into the thicket of trees just outside your camp. You’ve only trudged a few minutes when you begin to hear yelling ahead of you. The young soldier runs ahead and emerges through the trees, stopping so quickly that Jiwoo collides with him.

The camp is in shambles. “Rome is burning,” says Eunbi in awe. She’s only partially exaggerating — campers clad in makeshift Roman armor are running everywhere, yelling. Seungkwan, dressed in a toga over his camp clothes, is trying to round them all up. You have to stifle a laugh.

“Seungkwan,” you call. “What’s going on?”

“We were raided,” he admits, looking torn between distress and hysterical laughter. “It was Soonyoung’s kids. They came in here wearing some kind of Chinese stuff, and they stole all our grape juice.”

You can’t help but roar with laughter. “I think I’m in love with Soonyoung,” you say, wiping a tear from your eyes. At this, Seungkwan bristles.

“Wait until he does it to your girls,” he says grumpily. “In fact, I bet he’s headed there now.”

You feel a moment of unease at his words. “Why would you say that?”

“Because that’s not my camper,” he says, pointing to the kid who’d led you to the Roman camp.

The little kid splits an evil grin at you before running away, into the trees. The girls and you run back to camp and gasp.

A man dressed in all black with a gold tiger insignia on his back stands ahead of a small group of young boys, who stand at attention with arms behind their backs. He turns at your approach. “Ah, there you are,” he says, and his smile seems…evil somehow. “Kwon Soonyoung,” he says, offering his hand. You look at the little girls, and they shake their heads.

You ignore his proffered hand. “I saw what you did to Seungkwan’s camp,” you say, staring Soonyoung down with a raised eyebrow.

“In true Mongol spirit,” he says simply. “I’m hoping things will go easier here.”

“What do you want?” You say tersely.

“A favor,” he asks, his smile dropping slowly.

“What is it?”

“My boys and I seem to be without food tonight. We had a bit of an accident at camp. Would we be able to dine here?”

You happen to know your dad brought enough food to feed a literal army. Still, a part of you wants to say no. You don’t trust the look in Soonyoung’s eyes. One look at the hungry young men, however, and you soften.

“Fine,” you agree, “on the condition that there is no looting.”

The boys sit down beside the girls and begin eating. You and Soonyoung meet away from them. “So are you planning on waging war?” You ask him.

“The Mongols conquered most of Asia under the rule of Genghis Khan. It’s a great way to learn about history,” he says easily, less dramatic now that the boys aren’t present. “And a great way to win best camp counselor,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes, and he laughs. “Seungkwan was right,” he says. “It IS cute when you do that!”

“Seungkwan said what?” you snap, looking at him in alarm.

Soonyoung laughs. “You really don’t know,” he says, giggling. “Well, I won’t spoil the fun. But make no mistake, there’s more to Seungkwan than you think.”

Just then, screams start coming from the pavilion. You shoot a venomous glare at Soonyoung, who is grinning ominously, before running to check on your girls.

They are crowded atop the tables under the pavilion, some shrieking, some looking around, some crying, some clutching at the girls next to them.

“What’s going on?” You shout over the clamor, and one of the girls points to the attached benches at each table.

Snakes. You have to bite your tongue to keep from shrieking yourself. They’re slowly undulating on the benches. Then suddenly, a little girl named Sumin steps forward, more curious than scared. “It’s not real,” she says, poking the snake right in the eye.

It doesn’t move a muscle in her direction, simply continuing to squirm. You take a step forward and curse. It’s a toy snake, seemingly controlled by a remote. A prank.

This is, as far as you’re concerned, the final nail in Soonyoung’s coffin. You meet eyes with Heejin. “Run back to the Roman camp for me,” you instruct her. “It’s time for a war council.”

The next morning, you and the girls — in full Viking gear — march on Rome. There’s a ridiculous sort of tension in the air as you approach the pavilion, which Seungkwan has decorated with an actual stone statue of a Roman soldier, a sacrificial altar, and an incredibly accurate set of four pillars. A young, but tall boy, probably no older than twelve, is standing before the statue, and the “men” are in neat lines facing him. He meets your group, led by Heejin, with a bow. “I am Dosan,” he says in a commanding voice. “I am the unit’s general.”

Seungkwan is grinning with pride off to the side. The two of you meet eyes, and he gives you a look that seems to mean, “I told you they were impressive.” Indeed, the children seem incredibly well-trained after just a day at camp. You nod in agreement and his smile grows. A strange warmth steals over you, starting somewhere in your midsection, as though you’ve moved from the shade into the sun. Perplexed, you turn your attention back to the kids.

“Bring the treaty,” you instruct, and Jiwoo steps forward with a piece of paper you’ve made to look old through tea stains. It has a very real signature on it. Seungkwan holds his hand out to Jiwoo and she gives it to him. He reads it through, his eyes getting more and more wide every second. “A truce?” he finally asks, his face a mask of doubt.

“A truce,” you confirm. “If we combine our strength, Kwon Soonyoung can’t win, no matter how clever he might be.”

He looks to the boys. “What do you think?” he asks them, his face serious but his eyes full of mischief. They nod enthusiastically, and you grin. “Then it’s a truce,” he says, grabbing an actual feather quill off the desk and signing the treaty with a flourish.

You look to Heejin. “What do you want to do first?” you ask her.

She thinks for a minute before responding, “Train for Capture the Flag.”

You nod in approval.

Soon, the camp quickly dissolves into a commotion of organized chaos. Heejin and Dosan are heading up the actual swordfighting practice -- but not before Dosan sends a pair of twins on a “recon” mission to “canvas” the enemy camp. You can’t help but feel inspired by how seriously they’re all taking this war they’re in.

Seungkwan, too, is watching them proudly. You allow yourself one single second to think about how handsome the softness in his eyes as he observes his campers makes him look before addressing him. “You didn’t have to warn me they were coming. You could’ve let them do worse than they did. And honestly, if you’d asked me earlier, I would’ve assumed you’d have tried to team up with Soonyoung to bring me down.”

He gives you a wry smile. “There aren’t many people I’d stoop to Soonyoung’s level for, and you definitely aren’t on the list.”

“I’m going to try to take that as a compliment,” you say.

“Trust me, it is one,” he says, shooting a distasteful look into the trees where Soonyoung’s campsite is. “What about you, though?” he suddenly asks.

“Me?” you reply.

“Surely Soonyoung tried to ask you to join hands with him,” he says.

“He didn’t,” you say coolly, “and even if he had, I wouldn’t have done it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

You stand up. A brawl has broken out on the training fields, and you need to break it up. “I’m quite attached to you as my rival, Boo Seungkwan,” you say lightly, “and I don’t have any room on my roster for one more.”

You dance away, toward the fighters, only stealing a slight glance at Seungkwan over your shoulder. He is watching you leave, his mouth open in what looks like incredulity, but with a smile at the corners of his mouth and that same devastating softness in his eyes.

You suddenly wish you hadn’t looked.

***

The day has come.

After two days of training, a fair bit of history, and much too much interaction with Seungkwan (who seems to get more and more wonderful the more you see him), it’s come time for the Great War. It’s Capture the Flag Day.

Jiwoo and one of Seungkwan’s boys, Minseok, have been named head strategists. They’ve spent hours poring over the map of the entire campsite, planning for every alternative and educating the rest of their squads on tactics. Heejin and Dosan have headed up the infantry, because this year capture the flag features foam weapons, and if you get hit, you have to stay frozen until a fellow teammate can get to you. Heejin is a fencer and Dosan is a martial artist, and together they have taught the younger ones everything they know. To hold to Viking tradition, you have selected two Berserkers: an insanely energetic seven-year-old named Yura, the youngest of your campers, and the biggest and beefiest and wildest of Seungkwan’s campers, Junho. Their job is to whack as many of Soonyoung’s campers with a foam ax as possible.

Before the game begins, Dosan and Heejin stand on one of the pavilion tables in your camp, dressed to the nines in Roman garb and Viking skins, hair braided, face painted. Dosan opens his mouth, and begins to read from several sheets of paper Heejin is holding in front of him.

“Each of you has chosen the path of a warrior, not for glory or fame, but to defend all that we hold dear – our families, our land, and our freedom. We face a formidable foe, but know this: it is in the face of adversity that heroes are born!

Remember this, my brave soldiers – we fight not just for ourselves but for generations yet unborn. The deeds we accomplish today will echo through the corridors of time. Let us be the architects of our destiny and shape a future where freedom and justice reign supreme!

In the face of fear and uncertainty, remember that you are not alone. Look to your left and your right; you will find your comrades standing shoulder to shoulder with you, unwavering in their commitment to this righteous cause. Together, we form an unbreakable wall, an unstoppable force!

As we march into battle, let us carry the memories of our ancestors who fought valiantly before us. Draw strength from their legacy, for their spirits march beside us on this hallowed ground.

On this day, we shall etch our names in the scrolls of history. When our descendants speak of this moment, let them speak with pride of the day our courage blazed like a thousand suns!

Forward, my comrades, into the crucible of destiny! Together, we shall triumph, for we are warriors of indomitable spirit! May the winds of fortune favor our just cause, and may we emerge victorious, for this is the hour of heroes!”

At the end of this rousing speech, Dosan gives a deep roar.The onlooking campers yell in solidarity. You look at Seungkwan in absolute hysterics. “What was that?” you hiss. “That was incredible.”

“This kid has watched way too many war movies,” he whispers back, choking on a laugh. “I wish I’d recorded that.”

Jiwoo is barking instructions at everyone while Minseok talks to the recon team. Heejin and Dosan have gone ahead to meet the opposing team captain. Soonyoung emerges from the trees, his eyes hooded, the tiger on his back gleaming in the reddish sunset.

“May the best team win,” he says. “We can watch the whole game from the lake.”

The three of you head to the canoes so you can watch the game unfold. Soonyoung catches your arm, holding you back. “I think you need to see this video,” he says seriously.

He laughs at your glare. “I might be the bad guy, but I’m not a bad guy. Trust me.”

He hands you his phone and jogs to catch up with Seungkwan. You watch the video. It seems to be of a drunk Seungkwan, slumped in a chair in what must be his living room, hand over his eyes. “She’s gorgeous,” he moans. “Ugh, she hates me and she’s gorgeous. What am I supposed to do?”

The laughter in the background is definitely Soonyoung. “Stop laughing,” Seungkwan drawls in the video. “She’s seriously...oh, she’s my dream girl. She’s smart, and she’s beautiful, and she can make me laugh. Competitive. Almost scary. I like her so much,” he confesses, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Your heart is pounding. You put the video away, suddenly wondering why you’d never considered it before. The attraction between you has always been palpable, and the disdain has been majorly fabricated. But you find yourself remembering how Seungkwan carried one of your campers back a mile when she’d sprained an ankle at the last campout. Or the time when he stopped a particularly rowdy camper of his from picking on one of the girls in your camp. Or when he rushed one of the kids to the emergency room after they’d been stung by a bee because they were allergic. You’d been with him at that particular event, and he had paced in the lobby like the kid was his own until the nurse had come back to tell them he’d had an epi-pen and he was fine.

That was when your heart had started aching -- an ache you had tried to ignore, and mostly succeeded at ignoring, for two years. You rarely saw him around the office, but when you did, just his smile was enough to make you crazy. And now, here, in this place, the truth of your own heart was so embarrassingly clear. You loved Seungkwan. You had for literal years. And you’d put off the feeling for so long it had grown into something wild and untameable -- something that made you have to fight to conceal as he turned to look at you, ushering at the canoe. “We don’t have all day,” he teases, and you give him a weak smile. The light in his eyes, the wind tousling his perfect hair, that skin that basically glowed -- how had you ever lived without him?

And how could you, if you never said anything?

Seungkwan shoves the boat with you in it into the water before hopping in himself. Before he can grab his oar, Soonyoung deftly grabs it, jumping into his own canoe and paddling away. The two of you are stranded in a canoe that is moving fast toward the middle of the lake with absolutely no way of getting back. Soonyoung winks at you. You stare back, one part amused, one part abjectly horrified. You have no choice but to watch the game and try desperately not to throw yourself at Seungkwan, who is yelling at Soonyoung in the most adorable way possible.

The woods are alive with the sounds of feet pounding the ground and battle cries echoing through the night. Soonyoung's campers move swiftly and silently, using their knowledge of the terrain to their advantage.

The Roman and Viking campers, on the other hand, rely on their cunning and teamwork. They divide into two teams – one group works as a decoy to divert the enemy's attention, while the other stealthily moves towards Soonyoung's camp to capture their flag.

In the midst of the chaos, Jiwoo and Minseok emerge as the tactical masterminds. They have devised a clever plan, exploiting the weaknesses in the enemy’s formation. Using silent hand signals and coordinated whistles they developed during their training, they communicate with their fellow campers seamlessly.

Just as the sun is fully set over the horizon, the moment of truth arrives. Jiwoo and Minseokhwvr executed their plan flawlessly. The decoy group, drawing the enemy away, creates an opening for the second team to infiltrate Soonyoung's camp undetected.

In a heart-pounding moment, your campers snatch the enemy's flag from under their noses, and their victory is sealed. Cheers erupt as they make their triumphant return to their campsite, holding the captured flag high.

Seungkwan's campers and your campers celebrate their hard-fought victory, hugging each other in excitement and relief. The intense game has brought them closer together, solidifying their bonds as a united front against their rivals.

You don’t know when you ended up in Seungkwan’s arms in the canoe. You had both been cheering the kids on like parents, and at some point, in triumph or suspense, he had grabbed onto you. But now you caught yourself staring at him in the dim light of a rising moon. Trapped on a tranquil lake, with no one else around -- since Soonyoung has gone off to console his beaten campers.

Seungkwan swallows hard and lets go. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Got carried away.”

You grab his hand. He looks down, confused, at your fingers on his. “I saw the video,” you say in a rush.

For a moment, he thinks, seemingly not comprehending. Then, a light dawns in his eyes. A blush rises on his cheeks, and he curses. “Uh....I’m sorry,” he says, and then, clothes and all, he jumps. Out of the boat. Into the water.

“Seungkwan!” you yell, shocked.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says, trying and positively failing to sound cool. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

You can’t help but lose it. Laughing your head off, you jump in after him, your clothes quickly soaking. “Come back!”

You reach the shore at the same time. “I want to talk to you,” you say, reaching for his hand. Your numb feet catch on a large stone, and you tumble over, only saved from face-planting into the shore by Seungkwan, who has shot out his arms to grasp you.

He pulls you closer as a reflex and looks over your face, worried. “Please watch where you walk,” he says, his voice soft due to your closeness, and you blush as his warm breath sends a shiver down your spine.

But then the sound of footsteps makes you jump. Your campers are looking for you. Seungkwan looks horrified. “Hide,” he says, and you run into the trees hand-in-hand , stepping behind a tent wall. Seungkwan places a hand over your mouth as he looks around to see if anyone saw you.

He is incredibly close. You can see the water dripping off his hair onto the back of his neck. You move his hand. “Seungkwan.”

He looks at you, distressed. “What?”

“Did you mean it?” you ask him quietly. “What you said in the video.”

“I...” he stutters, seeming to be looking for an excuse, but then he looks at you. “I did. I have never met someone who can make me feel like you can. The competitive banter drives me crazy. But the craziest part is that I don’t want to be your rival anymore. I want to be more. I have no idea how to get there.” His voice is quiet and soft like yours. “So have a little mercy on me. I don’t know how to be to you what you are to me.”

You gaze at each other for a long moment. Then, you both move together, reaching for each other like a marathon runner reaching for water. He kisses you once, twice, three times gently before you grab the wet collar of his shirt and pull him in. He takes you into his arms, brushing his warm fingertips across the cold, wet back of your neck and making goosebumps erupt onto your arms.

“What a truce,” you murmur against his lips.

He chuckles. “No, this is a surrender.”

[laventadorn]

rough draft of two nje ch 15 scenes

so rough you could exfoliate with them! feel them strip the dead cells right off and leave your skin glowing and healthy*

*results not guaranteed

i've had an ass-kicking cold for the past four days; as in, it's kicking my ass. while i wait to breathe normally again, have some... more draco pov? idk why it's so easy and fun to write him -- maybe because i'm not emotionally invested in him and he's kind of a wet rag.

Harriet leaned over the bar, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“You did not tell me,” she said in a low voice, “that it was this many people.”

“Well, I – didn’t know they were going to be this. Numerous,” Hermione said (squeakily). 

“They must’ve told their friends,” Ron muttered. “I swear we were just talking to prefects in our year–”

Asteria patted Harriet on the back. Her hand might’ve been shaking a little (or a lot). Harriet didn’t blame her one bit – instead of a few prefects, all the Gryffindors in their year had turned up – Dean, Seamus, Neville, Lavender, Parvati and her sister Padma with her; Ginny and the other girls on the Gryffindor Quidditch team; Fred and George; that Luna girl from the train; a handful of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws from their year who Harriet only knew in the most general way from sitting classes with them for five years; and, most surprisingly, Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. At the sight of this many people trooping in to discuss her teaching them defense spells, Harriet had considered faking poisoning to get out of it – surely in the Hog’s Head it would be believable that she could’ve accidentally picked something up, even if it was just a long-term growth on her butterbeer bottle. 

In the end, the most she’d done was woodenly excuse herself and hunker down at the corner of the bar. Hermione, Ron, and Asteria, who’d been sitting in increasingly loud silence as the number of attendees grew, had scurried after her.

“Should we make a break for it?” Ron asked in a low voice. “I see a door behind the bar there. Probably leads to the yard.”

Harriet took off her glasses to scrub her hands over her face. Then she hooked the ends back over her ears with a sigh. “No . . . we’re already here. Anyway I’ve made more of a prat of myself in front of a bigger number of people.”

“You won’t make a. Prat of yourself,” said Hermione firmly. Asteria nodded vigorously, though she looked about to faint.

The barman gave a soft snort, like he didn’t agree. He seemed sort of familiar, but Harriet couldn’t place him. He was rubbing a dirty glass with an even dirtier rag, and she got the sense the only reason he hadn’t told them to bugger off was a disinclination for speaking to customers. 

“How can you say that, after knowing me all these years?” said Harriet to Hermione; she patted Asteria on the arm. “I make a prat of myself hourly. All right, let’s get this over with.”

Fred and George were handing out dusty bottles of butterbeer to the five-times-larger-than-Harriet-would’ve-preferred group that had overtaken a couple of tables to one side of the taproom. As she approached, all eyes pinned on her, and she almost made a break for the back door after all. She realized it was one thing to make a prat of herself spontaneously and quite another to get up in front of a bunch of people prepared to make a prat of herself. 

“Er,” she said. 

#

Draco breathed the open air in Hogsmeade. The best thing about it was that it was currently Pansy-free. 

Actually, he’d been having some good Pansy-free time lately. She was so fired up with this Inquisitors business, she’d stopped resembling a human-shaped growth on his arm. Prefects had to follow certain guidelines, but Umbridge’s Inquisitors had more leeway to properly abuse power. Draco hadn’t really known Pansy would have the initiative, but she’d proven quite good at conjuring up random infractions to inflict on people; other Houses were leaking points in small but significant totals. He was sort of impressed, but if she wasn’t careful, she was going to wind up with a head full of leeks when somebody snapped and hexed her. 

He’d also seen her scheming a lot with Daphne, probably to get back at Potter. He’d heard Tracey warning Daphne off – “You don’t want Potter as an enemy, don’t you remember?” – but he hadn’t said anything to Pansy. Aside from the fact that she wouldn’t listen, it wasn’t his business to make her smart about it. Besides, if she was busy crafting Potter voodoo dolls in dark corners, she wasn’t clinging on to him. 

Yes, he had a lot of time to himself lately. It was . . . rather quiet. 

Really, he wasn’t sure he liked it. His mind tended to go places that were dark and full of shadows. 

And yet talking to people was so much work these days. They hadn’t been – where he’d been.

(Wasn’t it pathetic? He was fine now. Why should he still struggle to fall asleep in the dark because it was dark?)

He was drifting down a side street when he saw something peculiar: Asteria and Potter meeting up with – Granger and the Weasel. 

He edged behind a street lamp, but he was far enough away that they didn’t spot him. But he couldn’t be too careful: Gryffindors might be oblivious as a fence-post, but Asteria had been better taught in Slytherin. And he’d noticed her tall form and fair hair. 

Asteria was hanging back a little behind Potter, who seemed to be making introductions, if the way Granger was smiling and Weasley giving a cringingly awkward wave was any indication. Asteria sort of twitched at them. Well, she could be cringingly awkward too, even if she was enormously good-looking and of much better breeding than the Weasel.  

They didn’t linger long after these first hellos, but headed off down the street. Potter still kept herself between Asteria and the others, as if providing a shield. 

Still edged behind the street-lamp, Draco reached up and touched the brooch he always wore on his lapel since his mother had given it to him - a Black family heirloom that activated a concealment spell with the right trigger. A quick check in a dusty shop window showed a nondescript wizard, not suspiciously plain, but unremarkable, standing in his place. 

Off he went after them. They stopped one street over and, after a brief pause in which Potter traded looks with her cronies, headed into a dingy building that Draco recognized from his third year, but had never ventured near since. 

The Hog’s Head? 

He almost turned to make a very dignified exit in a very opposite direction . . . but he reminded himself that the barman wouldn’t recognize him like this; his mother did not pass on useless trinkets. And besides, if Potter and cronies were about to get tossed out on their ears, he wanted to see.

The bar was the same as he remembered: filthy, low-class, poorly lit. The same candles stuck to the dirt-encrusted tables in their own wax; the same bay windows that probably hadn’t been cleaned since the goblin rebellion of 1612; the same floor you couldn’t see for all the grime and sawdust. The same bartender. . . 

You are not Draco Malfoy; you are a gormless nobody named Deacon Pines. 

He took a seat at the bar. The barman glanced at him with a sardonic gleam in his eye.

“Firewhiskey sour,” said Draco, with an accent that made him sound like Potter. 

The barman stared at him a moment longer with a gimlet eye, but made the drink and shoved it over. Draco held a single sip in his mouth, trying not to cringe. How his father could drink these. . .

Potter was sitting in a corner, easily visible from his seat at the bar, talking in low tones with Granger and the Weasel. Asteria sat at her side, content to be ignored, but looking round the room. He had actually never had call to observe her this closely or at leisure: she almost always faded from notice, and she seldom spent time in places around loads of other people. But shielded from notice beside Potter, she didn’t seem as jittery as usual. 

Then her eyes widened. Draco couldn’t help looking over his shoulder, and almost spat out his mouthful of whiskey.

A whole troop of people were marching across the threshold. The barman even dropped his scowl of suspicion to gape at the amount of Hogwarts students now cluttering up his taproom. Draco hunkered down at his spot at the bar – he wasn’t Asteria, shaken up by somebody looking in his mere direction, but he didn’t fancy being noticed by this crowd of Slytherin-haters when he was alone and unallied.

He glanced up; Potter had come to the other end of the bar, and was leaning over it like she wanted to brain herself on the edge. Asteria was patting her on the back. Granger and Weasley seemed to be attempting some pep talk. 

Draco suddenly had a vision of himself having a minor wig-out in the corner, and Crabbe and Goyle trying to offer advice while Pansy rubbed his shoulders. He almost swallowed a burning mouthful of his rancid drink. As if Crabbe and Goyle would care enough to think of something to say – or be able to, even if they did. As if Pansy would be able to get over herself long enough to be soothing. 

He couldn’t hear the conversation, but after a moment Potter straightened up, face resigned, and turned back to the slack-brained crowd. What was she nervous about? 

“Er,” she said eloquently. 

All right, so maybe she was nervous because she had the public speaking skills of a puffskein. 

She darted a look at Granger, who moved up next to her. 

“Thank you for. Coming,” said Granger in that stop-start way she had these days. “Well, we – put together this meeting for – people with concerns and – questions about. . . some recent things.” She swallowed; Potter, arms folded, shifted her stance a bit so that her shoulder was touching Granger’s. Granger’s chin came up a little. 

“And because we need to learn Defense and certainly there’s no – proper teacher this year – ”

“Hear, hear!” said one of the heinous Weasley twins. A titter went through the group. 

“I take it you’re worried about passing your O.W.L.s too?” asked one of the Ravenclaw swots. Behind Granger and Potter, Weasley rolled his eyes. Draco would never agree with the Weasel, who was barely literate, but Merlin’s beard, did Ravenclaws ever shut up about grades?

Granger was answering that question when a blond Hufflepuff from their Quidditch team – Zanius or something – interrupted her with a nasally voice:

“I have a question.”

Potter raised her eyebrows at his tone, but said, “Yeah?”

“Why’d you bring her here?” He pointed behind her – at Asteria, who went bright red. “Everyone’s seen you palling around with a Slytherin, but to just waltz in here together – how do you know she’s not a spy for that Umbridge?”

Asteria shrunk in on herself. Weasley scowled at that wart Zanius, but everyone else held their breath, as if waiting to see how Potter would handle this. They’d surely been wondering the same thing.

“Asteria is my friend,” said Potter coldly, but the look in her eye blazed, even in the smoke-stained light. “If you don’t trust your friends, that’s not my problem – nor is who I choose to be friends with any of your business. If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

Asteria looked up at her, and if those weren’t stars in her eyes, Draco wasn’t a Malfoy. Zanius’ mouth hung open a little, before he turned a dull read.

“It was just a question,” he muttered. 

“Right,” said Potter, with sarcasm so good a Slytherin wouldn’t have been ashamed to use it. “Glad to answer it for you.

“So,” she continued into the weighted silence. Her nerves appeared to have been tempered in the fire of Gryffindor righteousness; she no longer looked like she wanted to leap over the tables and run out the door. “If anyone has any real questions – ones about blokes called Voldemort, or anything you actually came here for – now’s the time.”

The Weasley twins traded raised eyebrows. Several people looked impressed, a couple like it was their turn to want to scurry out the door. Draco certainly wouldn’t want Potter looking at him with that eye – it reminded him more than a little of the barkeep’s when he’d nabbed a third-year Draco asking for firewhiskey, or McGonagall’s when she found Crabbe doing unspeakable things to a mouse in class. 

“Is You-Know-Who the one who hurt Hermione Granger?” asked a sweet, soft voice – Draco thought her name was Loony Lovegood. Pansy made fun of her sometimes. Pansy said she was a nutter; Draco thought dotty. Her earrings looked like orange radishes, making her an even worse dresser than Potter.

Potter looked at Loony in silence for a moment, that militant light dimmed. Granger put her hand on Potter’s arm. 

“Yes,” she said simply. “Harriet saved my life.”

Murmurs shifted through the crowd like wind through the treetops. Draco looked down into his disgusting drink. 

What would that be like… murmured a voice in his mind. 

What, being captured by the Dark Lord? Granger’s a Mudblood, and she was only taken because she’s Potter’s best friend, so she made the best bait. Your family is loyal. . . you’ll be safe.

But Potter had gone to rescue her – somehow . . . and had gotten her out. 

What would it be like. . . to have a friend like that?

[chans5oive]

Once more.

chan x gn reader

Genre: childhood friends to lovers au x idol au

warning: slight angst towards the end but ends with fluff!

Word count: 971

a/n: Hey!! This is my first ever fic please be nice and let me know if i made any mistakes and likes and re-blogs are appreciated but please give credit!!

You and chan have known each other since you were born your mothers were in a pre-natal group together and really hit it off and became best-friends. You knew Chan all through primary school in Seoul. Later when it was time to move to high-school you found out chan was moving to Australia and you were moving to (insert country.) After saying you hurtful goodbyes you guys promised to stay in touch.

Occasionally you would visiting each other and act like you have never left each other. However, the mutual friend feeling suddenly changed for Chan. It was summer in Australia you were 15 and Chan was the same, you went visit - not seeing Chan in a while so neither of you really had a recent image of one another- you wore short clothing from the obvious heat and when you saw Chan for the first time in what felt like ages he was blown away.

“were they always this cute” he thought.

“Wow Ive never never noticed the dimples when they smile before” he thought as you smiled at his sister.

You and Chan headed up to his room to do some mindless catching up when Chan could feel his heart racing and his palms getting sweaty. Yes, it could be from the sweltering heat…but what if it wasn’t? You dived onto Chans bed already making yourself comfortable as he put on a movie. You were engulfed in the movie but Chan couldn’t take his eyes of you. The movie ended and you turned to Chan. “hey i need to tell you something” you sputtered.

Recently, you decided to audition for JYP just for fun to see if you would get in and as it turns out you did.

“i auditioned for JYP and i got in so im moving back to Korea i guess” you spat.

“oh my god y/n that is probably the best thing i have ever heard” he spoken in an eger tone.

“i did too!! And im moving there in spring!” He jumped

so it was settled you and Chan would move together and train side by side. Which of course you did but not without making a few friends on the way.

-10 years later-

“Y/n!” A girl with long black hair called out to you.

“Yeji!” You cried

You and Yeji have been friends right from the start of your training process. She joined around the same time as you and since then you two became inseparable. “i thought you didn’t need to come in today?” She quizzed

“yeah but my comeback is soon and i wanted to see Chan in the studio!” You explained

“oh ok!” You hugged and make your way over to Chans studio.

You knock on the door and hear a familiar aussie voice coming from inside

“come in!!” He yelled.

You walk in and smell the familiar smell (you would often visit) of coffee and the old wood smell from the walls. Your wrap your arms around him and hug him tight. Chans heart raced once again and his palms once again becoming sweaty just like he did when he was 15. You sat on the couch and asked if he needed any help as you were an idol and a music producer too.

Finally, Chan had finished his work and found you asleep on his studio couch. He smiled and draped his jacket over your body.

ok hes in love

Chan with this new realisation he would distance himself. Your his best-friend and has been since your guys were born! He can’t confess can he? What if you break up? How could he live without you? He decided to consult in his closest friends. “just date her idk why your so stressed” a muffled reply came from Minho snacking on a bun.

“Yeah date her” came from 6 other boys in an overly loud manner.

With all this too think about Chan does the one thing he does when he needs to disassociate from reality. Make music.

You were worried. Chan hadn’t been answering you messages or calls. He always said he was too busy or when he saw your walking he would run the other way. You were getting sick of it because you couldn’t think of anything that you did wrong!

You came up with a plan. To trap chan and get him to say what is wrong.

You had the perfect plan, you would show up to his dorm unannounced and the boys would make sure he was home. You show up just as you planned there he was sitting on the couch.

“God hes gorgeous- wait did you just call chan gorgeous” you thought.

Putting that thought aside. You called out to Chan and made sure he couldn’t run.

“YA!! Why are you ignoring me!!!” You splutter already feeling a lump in you throat.

“Y/n-“

“No NO i did nothing why are you ignoring me i don’t understand!!” Oh great! Your crying. Perfect.

“I LIKE YOU OK..i like you” he spits out slightly crying too.

“what-“ you were shocked. In fairness you were actually quite happy you had always had a slight crush on Chan but i guess you never really noticed it apart from when you saw him on the couch mere moments ago.

“listen y/n i’ve liked no no loved you since we were 15 and when you visited me in Australia and you were just so..cute! And funny and sweet! Your just so perfect and-“

before he could say another word you pressed your lips against his. Slowly but tenderly kissing. Passionate like you were both waiting for this for 10 years you both have .

You pull away “in case you couldn’t tell Christopher chan i like you too” and pressed you lips together once more.

Tag list: @mazeinthemiroh @jisungsdaydreamer @fantasy2wonderland @anyamaris @chocotonez

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