#Day 8: Romantic Tropes

[bookgendrya]

Rich Girl x Poor Boy

“The Hand’s daughter.” Harwin went to one knee before her. “Arya Stark, of Winterfell.”

“I’m a ‘prentice smith, and one day might be I’ll make a master armorer[…]”

Forced Proximity

“I’m taking men and boys from the city,” Yoren growled as sharp steal scraped her head.[…] Afterwards he told her from here to Winterfell she’d be Arry the orphan boy.

“I did my work, is all. Bellows and tongs and fetch and carry. I was ‘sposed to be an armorer, and one day Master Mott says I got to join the Night’s Watch,[…]”

Found Family

She make much better time on her own, Arya knew, but she could not leave them. They were her pack, her friends, the only living friends that remained to her, and if not for they would still be safe in Harrenhal, Gendry sweating at his forge and Hot Pie in the kitchens. If the Mummers catch us, I’ll tell them that I’m Ned Stark’s daughter and sister to the King in the North. I’ll command them to take me to my brother, and to do no harm to Hot Pie and Gendry. They might not believe her, though,and even if they did…Lord Bolton was her brother’s bannerman, but he frightened her all the same. I won’t let them take us, she vowed silently, […]

I Hate Everyone but You

“She’s no use,” Gendry repeated stubbornly. “Her and Hot Pie and Lommy, they’re slowing us down, and they’re going to get us killed. You’re the only one of the bunch who’s good for anything. Even if you are a girl.

“Arry, come on! Lommy’s gone, leave her if she won’t come!” Stubbornly, Arya dragged all the harder, pulling the crying girl along. Hot Pie scuttled back inside, abandoning them…but Gendry came back, […]

Miscommunication 

“She’s my sister.” Gendry put a heavy hand on the old man’s shoulder, and squeezed.” “Leave her be.”[…]“Why did you say that?” Arya hopped to her feet. “You’re not my brother.” “That’s right,” he said angrily. “I’m too bloody lowborn to be kin to m’lady high.” Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. “That’s not the way I meant it.” “Yes it is.” He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. “Go away, I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I’ll go find the black-haired girl and ring her bell for her.” “But..” “I said, go away. M’lady.” Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that’s all he is.

Love Triangle

He doesn’t like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured.

Forbidden Love

“You must be a lackwit, boy,” said Lem. “We’re outlaws. Lowborn scum, most of us, excepting his lordship. Don’t think it’ll be like Tom’s fool songs neither. You won’t be stealing no kisses from a princess, nor riding in no tourneys in stolen armor. You join us, you’ll end with your neck in a noose, or your head mounted up above some castle gate.”

Right Person, Wrong Time

As Arya was cinching her saddle girth, Gendry came up to say that he was sorry. She put a foot in the stirrup and swung up into her saddle, so she could look down on him instead of up. You could have made swords at Riverrun, for my brother, she thought, […]

There was life at the crossroads inn, though. Even before they reached the gate, Brienne heard the sound: a hammering, faint but steady. It had a steely ring.

“…till you stand before m’lady.” Renly stood behind the girl, pushing his black hair out of his eyes. Not Renly, Gendry. “M’lady means for you to answer for your crimes.”

#Day 8: Romantic Tropes #bookgendryamonth2023 #arya stark #book arya stark #gendry #gendry waters #book gendrya #gendrya #arya x gendry #gendry x arya #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane Masterlist

Summary: Sometimes love and power become entwined with each other.

Tropes: Mob!Au, enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, pining, slow burn.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, death, underworld, dysfunctional relationships and explicit language. (Separate and specific warnings will be included in each chapter)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Prologue

Chapter 1 : A night out with an old friend can lead to surprises.

Chapter 2 : Gifts can make good apologies.

Chapter 3 : Guests shouldn't overstay their welcome.

Chapter 4 : A quiet night on the rooftop holds new promises.

Chapter 5 : Certain arguments can't wait.

Chapter 6 : Rumors can spread fast.

Chapter 7 : New enemies can complicate everything.

Chapter 8 : Some decisions require late night visits.

Chapter 9 : A marriage decision leads to an honest conversation about expectations.

Chapter 10 : Happy news can make a dinner so much better.

Chapter 11 : Engagement period is supposed to be romantic.

Chapter 12 : Some car rides aren't relaxing.

Chapter 13 : There are many ways to plan a wedding.

Chapter 14 : A wedding can be a good place for clarity.

Chapter 15 : The first day of marriage can be relaxing.

Chapter 16 : Some meetings cause rumors.

Chapter 17 : Petty fights can start out of nowhere.

Chapter 18 : Family dinner can get tense.

Chapter 19 : A therapy session can be enlightening.

Chapter 20 : Business deals are open to negotiation.  

Chapter 21 : Calmness is a facade.

#the eye of the hurricane #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob!au

[laurellerual]

Day 8: Romantic tropes - The other dress

It was even worse than before; Lady Smallwood insisted that Arya take another bath, and cut and comb her hair besides; the dress she put her in this time was sort of lilac-colored, and decorated with little baby pearls.

#bookgendryamonth2023 #arya stark #gendry #gendrya #asoiaf #asoiaf fanart #arya x gendry #gendry waters #acorn hall #a bit of love for the other poor dress that no one cares about #Gendry took one look and laughed so hard that wine came out his nose

[mickyschumacher]

NGL I LOVE UR WORK... ive been hopping thru ur m.list since the last hour.... its currently 1 am and i have an essay to finish before 8 am(im sure my prof will give me more time ik dey love me) anywasy i was wondering if u could do an enemies to lovers with Lewis((like really hated eachother)the reader could be a driver its oky don mind what she does) and then they were arguing abt sumting lewis says something thats completely out of the line and she starts crying in front him then he just kinda leaves her be, a few days later he would go on then apologize to her abt wat he said and then more fluff. (just ignore this if ur not into it or not takin a request at the moment. but im actually just hapi i kind of got the courage to ask u for a request also ur stories are soooo good i admire and envy u at the same time.)

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: as lewis's former teammate, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. but a bad move from lewis puts him completely out of line.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: enemies to lovers trope!, poor humour, some fluff, in depth moment of an alternated 2021 wdc (apologies in advance), therefore ANGST, bad race jargon, horner and masi discussed :(, mention of intermittent explosive disorder, misogyny, allusion to racism (not from the reader ofc!), shitting on the fia for a bit, lewis kinda being a dick for probably an unfair reason lol, a proclamation of feelings from sir lewis himself

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lewis hamilton x red bull!driver!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: you're too sweet to me! 🤧 i couldn't tell if you wanted this to be romantic but i went that way in the end! hope this was good! ♡︎ very very loosely based of swift's 'right where you left me'. but if you argued it wasn't, i would be inclined to agree. proof-read...ish?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

No one ever truly understood your move to Red Bull. It was in 2019, far from when Max was practically living on pole, so Red Bull wasn't exactly a threat to Mercedes, your previous team. Toto had even put a three-year extension on the table several months before your contract came close to expiring.

Yet you had chosen to sign with the devil.

When the commentators, journalists, and fans took a closer look at your decision, the only thing they could all collectively agree on was that you had moved to Red Bull because of Lewis Hamilton. Because you both couldn't keep your differences aside and Lewis had finally struck your last nerve.

While you weren't quite sure about the last part, the first was true. You had Lewis had never ever exactly met eye-to-eye. Every F1 driver had a specific style of driving. You liked to call Lewis' the 'calm before the storm'. He raced with a composure and maturity that most drivers did not hold. He was particularly calculative and the everyone loved him.

You, on the other hand, had given yourself a new nickname along side 'Flash 13' because you did everything in a flash: you overtook ruthlessly and calculated, you pushed the car till it was undrivable, and you were decisive to the very nanosecond. But you had also garnered yourself the name 'IED', after the behavioural disorder.

In part this nickname was due to the misogyny you faced as the only current female driver in F1 but also due to the sheer anger that bursted out of you whenever you encountered Lewis.

The amount of warnings Toto had given the both of you was simply endless. He had even resorted to putting you two with the team therapist.

The source of your hatred for each other was as clear as day. You hated Lewis' arrogance because somehow it was even worse than Rosberg, Alonso, Räikkönen, and Verstappen. And Lewis hated you for your 'perspective'. You didn't know what he initially meant by that but you regretted asking him. He said you needed to be stronger to be in F1 and that you were far too soft-hearted. Right after you had gotten your first ever pole.

It was ridiculous, to say the least.

No F1 driver was soft-hearted. You were all, simply put, a bunch of dicks. Not literally, of course. Naturally, following that comment, Lewis had pissed you off. He hadn't even had a second to know you before even making that judgement. It was ironic as well, considering your nickname that labelled your anger.

After watching Lewis win several championship titles with you following multiple places behind and seeing you only get angrier with each other, you had decided to call it quits for Mercedes. If people were going to take your annoyance and frustrations with amusement, you were going to head to the angriest team of all and leave your former team fuming.

Two years later, in 2021, you had finally gotten the perfect opportunity.

You hadn't really a clue how exactly Red Bull had made the 2021 car so well that you were matching the speed of Mercedes' car but you didn't care. You were matching Lewis. And Christian Horner was a happy man. A sexist prick but a happy man nonetheless.

Pole was either Lewis' or yours. Either he was a Grand Prix winner or you were. It was a game of cat and mouse, always in a constant pursuit of each other. The same went from your team leaders, Toto and Christian, who practically had the race director, Masi, on speed dial.

And by Abu Dhabi, you were equally tied, locked at 369.5 points. It hadn't been easy after getting penalised for multiple incidents against Lewis, but you were here. Lewis was trying to get his eighth championship and you your first.

You weren't sure how this was going to end. Heck, no one could've predicted what happened that day. But all you knew was that you were not going down without a fight.

You secured pole in Abu Dhabi which had put the entirety of Mercedes and F1 on edge. After a discussion with your engineer and several strategists, you had opted for soft tyres to further your advantage over Lewis.

Despite all of that, it was Lewis who had led the first corner after those red lights had gone out. It was only by turn six did you even get a lead. But it was a moment too short as your former teammate regained his top position by going off into the damn run-off area of the track.

You didn't need to scream in annoyance. You couldn't hear Horner, but deep down you knew he had already called up Masi, demanding an investigation. Your engineer reported to you that the stewards had dismissed it. The gap between you and Lewis was getting bigger, the race was coming to and end, and you knew you needed a miracle towards the end of the race if you wanted to win.

And that miracle was called Nicholas Latifi. The poor guy had crashed into Mick and the safety car was out on the tracks. Thankfully, they were both okay, but the timing of it was simply impeccable.

You had pitted to get new soft tyres and Mercedes was on the fence about heading to the pit lane in fear of the race restarting. So Lewis didn't pit. Miracle 2.

You re-joined the track with five lapped cars in between you and Lewis. And soon enough, Race Control had given the dooming message: lapped cars were not allowed to overtake.

The taste in your mouth was bitter. You had cussed out Horner, asking why you were even seeing these lapped cars in front of you.

Then came Race Control again: only the five cars in between you and Lewis were allowed to overtake. Miracle 3.

But of course, F1 had a flair for the dramatics. Because you were fucking restarting. Putting you and Lewis on a tight show-down for the final lap.

The bad news? Lewis hadn't pitted yet.

The good news? You could overtake Lewis. Miracle 4.

And the headline? You won.

You fucking won.

You were F1's first female champion in history.

You made history... or, well, herstory?

Yes it was controversial. Yes it was dramatic. Yes, questionable decisions had been made.

But you won.

By the time you had gotten out of your car and finished with screaming and crying in pure happiness, you had finally caught a glimpse of Lewis.

A small part of you felt bad. You knew for a fact, that these decisions weren't 'human error' as the FIA would go on to claim the following year in Bahrain.

It was entertainment. It was business. It was money.

You had both worked so hard this year. But the fight between an F1 driver breaking the record for the most championship titles and the first possible female champion in F1 was too good to resist.

Things between you and Lewis after Abu Dhabi hadn't gotten worse. You just talked far less than you normally did. You barely argued with each other anymore. It was disconcerting to say the least. Especially now that you were struggling to match Max's pace, always coming second or third as per the instructions of your engineer. For a moment you thought, what was the point of winning if you weren't going to win again?

━━━━━━━━━━━

You were still determined. Beating your own teammate would be hard. But you weren't a stranger to the idea. You had spent years trying to beat Lewis while purposely being the support for him to win. They were two actions they didn't go together but it had happened.

That being said, the venture was proving to be more difficult than you anticipated. In fact, it had caused a full collision with Lewis in the first lap of the Qatar Grand Prix.

You were so focused on beating Max you hadn't taken a second to look around you.

"What the fuck was that?" Lewis' voice invaded the air as he barged into your driver's room, ridden with sweat and still in his racing gear.

"Look, I'm sorry okay. I didn't see you. It was my fault. End of story," You told him curtly, not really wanting talk to Lewis any further.

"Damn right, you didn't see me. You could've taken me or anyone out! Are you so fucking stuck up your ass that you couldn't see me?" Lewis asked incredulously.

You scoffed at his accusation. It was true. But you didn't like when the truth fell from his lips... especially not when they sounded like that.

"Lewis, drop it. No one got hurt. Let's just move on okay?" You queried, annoyance dripping from your voice.

"Why? Can't handle the truth, L/N?" He laughed gently, almost mocking you. "Right... you were always like that."

You snapped your head towards him, raising a sharp brow. "Excuse me?" You spat as if to say he was becoming dangerously close to crossing a line he did not want to cross.

Lewis folded his arms, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? You don't like the truth. It's simple. I told you that you need to be stronger because you're too soft-hearted. And you hated that. And now that I'm telling you that you're selfish, you obviously can't handle it."

"Oh my God, you are one to talk. Lewis, you are so blinded by your arrogance that you can't see anyone else win. That's why you can't accept that I won right?"

"Not Abu Dhabi, aga–"

"Yes, Lewis, Abu Dhabi again. You are so fucking sour about losing that even when the hate targeted me, you let it. You let them say that my win was due to race and gender. Me, Lewis, out of all people, me."

No matter your differences, you had stuck up for Lewis on many accounts when it came to the FIA, 'fans', and haters. But he wasn't there for you.

You could see dark expression fall onto Lewis' face. "That's not true, Y/N."

"Then what was it Lewis?" You flailed your hands in exasperation. "Because you sure as hell didn't come to my aid."

"Because you didn't deserve it!"

You blinked blankly, arms falling to your side. Your mind took a minute to process the words that had fallen from his lips in mere seconds.

Lewis' face dropped as realisation struck him. What the fuck did he just say? "Y/N, I–"

"Get out," You grumbled.

Lewis did a double-take on the fresh line of tears accumulating on your waterline. He took a step closer to you, hands reaching out. "No, no, no, Y/N, I–" But your words made him stop.

"Lewis, get the fuck out of here before I start screaming like the bitch everyone thinks I am."

You watched Lewis return his hands to the side, clenching his jaw tightly as he made way to the door of your room. He stopped briefly, hesitating to open the door, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Four days.

You had pondered in deep thought for four days. And after 72 hours, one thing had become obvious to you.

Lewis wasn't with you or any of the other drivers. He was still in 2021, right where you had left him. Not a second had gone by for Lewis where he hadn't thought about Abu Dhabi.

What if he had just pushed for Bono and Toto to get him in that pit lane?

What if he had veered the car a little to the side and you didn't overtake him?

Lewis was still reliving the worst moment of his career and his life and everyone had moved on. Sure, every fan and commentator talked about it time to time. But it was something of the past.

To say you didn't deserve your championship title... you had heard it from several 'fans' and insignificant others. But to hear it from Lewis? It fucking killed you.

You cared about his opinion more than anyone in the world. And he knew that.

You would've never said anything as shitty as that to him or anyone for that matter.

You had worked your ass off to get to F1. Fuck, you had won F2 two fucking times because no one was willing to let a girl on their team... into a man's sport. Every driver worked hard to a certain degree. But you were a girl who didn't grow up with the means of driving yourself to your death every day. If everyone worked hard, you had worked ten times harder.

Everyone knew that you and Lewis had fought. And by the looks of it, they also knew it was far worse than your normal fights. You wouldn't look at him, you refused to speak to him, you spent minimal time in the same room, you had even paid your media fines in full to avoid everyone...

Max had even become some sort of bodyguard, telling Lewis to turn back around when he neared the Red Bull garage.

All of this protection, and yet, he had still found you in your favourite place. The one you both came to when you needed to become level-headed. The top stand of any empty Grand Prix, in this case the México Grand Prix, where the air felt a little bit cooler against your heated skin and you could think for even it was for just a second.

You sucked in a sharp breath, seeing Lewis in your periphery while you were firmly seated. He looked nervous, chewing on his bottom lip and taking cautious glances at you.

"Hey," Lewis greeted, making you raise a brow at his lame entrance.

You forced yourself to look at the rest of the empty seats in front of you. "Hey," You mumbled back, trying to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth.

An unsettling silence enveloped the both of you. You were sure Lewis was here to apologise. But you could also tell he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not in a selfish way. But in the most guiltiest way possible.

You sighed. "How are you?" You asked gently, peeking out of the corner of your eye.

Lewis winced at your question. Leave it up to you to still be this kind after what he had said to you. "Sorry. I'm so so sorry," He rasped, voice raw with the pain that had been gnawing away at him ever since those god forbidden words had left his mouth.

You nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "I know you're going to call me soft-hearted but what you said really fucking hurt, Lew," You jested with a brief smile.

Lewis grimaced at your poor humour, before his ears perked up at the old nickname you had given him when you first started getting on each other's nerves. "I know. I'm an idiot for saying something like that. Or that you're soft-hearted. You've worked so hard for all of this. You absolutely deserve everything and that win was only the first of many, I'm a hundred percent sure of it. Your Dutch shortie doesn't really know what's coming."

You gave him a tight-lipped smile after huffing in amusement at his diss towards Max. "Thank you," you told him earnestly. "Although, I am quite positive he is like almost ten centimetres taller than you. But, thanks anyways."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "Have you seen me? You don't think I give off tall energy?"

"You mean tall in insults?" You joked, grinning at the blank look on Lewis' face.

Lewis sighed. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean any of it. And by 'it', I mean all of the insults and fights. I was just disappointed in myself. Even more so that I didn't stand up for you. I'm so sorry."

You drew your eyebrows together, turning your body to face him. Confusion filled you. "Then why did you say it at all?"

"I–" Lewis blew out a small laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lewis, can you not see me dying here? Like a whole kitchen set of knives in my back?" You deadpanned.

Lewis rolled his eyes again. So dramatic.

He brought his hands together, staring at you briefly before looking at the empty stand. "Well, obviously, I heard of you before you joined Mercedes. I thought it was ridiculous that you had to get two F2 championships to get a seat, but anyways, I digress. Toto told me, he was considering you even though you had never been in the junior team.

And I remember just being so fucking jealous of you. Toto was consumed by you. He and Horner had been fighting for your seat for so long and now that they finally had an open seat, it was chaos. Toto won, obviously. And then we met each other in person for the first time and I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world."

You felt your heart begin to race and your skin heat at the sudden proclamation. "You... you what?"

Lewis smoothly glossed over the compliment. "And then we had our first quali together and you beat me. You got pole on your first race. So you were talented and beautiful. A crime, might I add.

And so when you came to tell me, you were so excited with all your talent and beauty, I was pissed. Because out of all things in the world, I had gotten an amazing competitor I was bound to feel for. I thought that by saying you were soft-hearted and all, it would get on your bad side and it would make me less attracted to you. It didn't. It got worse while it got easier to pretend to hate you."

You blinked blankly at him, cheeks aflame. Lewis Hamilton liked you. Your stupid teammate? The same one who's eighth championship you arguably took? "I'm sorry... hold up, we've been fighting for years because I'm a hot, talented, gifted, smart driver and you're a simp?"

Lewis squinted his brown eyes at you. "I did not include all those adjectives."

"I mean... that's basically what you said," You shrugged, flickering your eyes to the setting sun.

Where did all the damn cool air go? You wondered, pressing your hands to your flushed cheeks and feeling your soft palm absorb the molten lava known as your skin.

Lewis chuckled, picking up your flustered reaction quickly. He watched as you suddenly stood up. "Okay, well I'm... I'm going to meet Hugh and find a way to beat Max. See ya!"

Lewis paused, grabbing your wrist. "Wait? What? You aren't going comment about what I just said?"

You eyed his hold on your wrist: it was searing you. You turned to him, lowering your head to meet his gaze. You briefly looked down at his lips before looking back up. "I think I prefer hating you."

Lewis felt you press your lips on his cheek before walking past him. He watched your retreating figure, your kiss feeling heavy on his face, putting him right where you had left him: absolutely and utterly smitten.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic

[etaindelaserna]

Favourite KakaSaku headcanons and tropes in fanfiction:

1. Kakashi harbouring secret feelings for Sakura but he never acted on them because he is old and broken AND they are student-teacher AND because Sakura loves Sasuke

2. Kakashi being the most handsome man Sakura has ever laid eyes on with the physique of a greek God

3. Kakashi‘s ninken adoring Sakura‘s scent

4. Ino or Gai discovering that Sakura/Kakashi has a crush on Kakashi/Sakura and trying in a not so subtle way to play matchmaker but for the most part only ends up creating hilarious moments for the two of them

5. Kakashi opening up about Rin & Obito and Sakura — as a result — bringing them flowers every day and talking to them about (her feelings for) Kakashi

6. Kakashi, although he is too handsome to handle, actually has limited experience with romantic relationships and/or sex but is a faster learner and thus is a very considerate and passionate lover/partner

7. Sakura is the more perverted one of the two

8. They grow closer (as friends) during the time Naruto and Sasuke are away from the village to the point that Sakura can just stop by at Kakashi’s anytime and they hang out and talk

9. On missions together Kakashi is annoyed when other shinobi or civilians flirt with Sakura and either claims her or doesn’t act on it because she can handle herself (but still has a close eye on her)

10. Kakashi defending Sakura against Sasuke in any way, shape or form and being there for her during her breakdowns

11. Sakura doing check-ups on Kakashi’s sharingan

#kakasaku #kakashi x sakura #kakashi hatake #sakura haruno #fanfiction #kakasaku headcanon #kakasaku tropes #kakasaku fanfiction

[babyleostuff]

Who do you think would be most likely to ask you out after meeting you one time? Like they were struck by the lightning bolt and needed to see you again.

natalia's note: okay, so im not the biggest fan of like the "love at first sight" tope, so take this with a grain of salt, i tried my best :))

1 . . . DK

okay, so i see dk as someone who’s very romantic, so i think he’d be the most likely to ask you out after meeting you once

2 . . . JUN

i have no explanation for this one, it’s just a feeling. though, as much as he’d want to ask you out he wouldn’t because he’d be too shy

3 . . . SEUNGKWAN

our lil cutie patootie would be all heart eyes, and he’d want to ask you out so badly, but similarly to jun he might be too shy to actually do it. it would depend on the day

4 . . . DINO

another one that i think is quite romantic, and is into the stereotypical love tropes, so he’d definitely feel like he’s in a rom com when he realises he needs to ask you out immediately after he meets you

5 . . . MINGYU

he’s sure he’s in love when he meets you, so obviously he needs to ask you out, and since it’s mingyu we’re talking about he would ask you out

6 . . . HOSHI

he’s kind of „living in the moment” type of guy, so if he felt like he wanted to get to know you better, or if he’d really be into you he wouldn’t really hesitate to ask you out

7 . . . SEUNGCHEOL

okay, so this one wouldn’t ask you out immediately, he’d have to think about it a bit at first. BUT when he comes home, and realises he’s still thinking about you, he’d texts you (ofc he got your phone number earlier)

8 . . . JOSHUA

another one that’s still constantly thinking about you when you part ways, to the point where he knows that the only thing that will make him feel better is asking you out, so he can see you again

9 . . . MINGHAO

so, minghao is also someone who’s very romantic to me, but at the same time he tries to be realistic about love, so he wouldn’t think about asking you out immediately after meeting you

10 . . . JEONGHAN

he’d call or text you a couple of days after you meet, because he has this lingering feeling following him, and he realises it’s simply the thought of you

11 . . . WONWOO

first of all, he’d be way to shy to ask you out right after you meet, besides he’s kind of similar to hao - he tries to be realistic about love, so he has to be sure about his feeling about you

12 . . . VERNON

he’d have to meet you a couple of times more before thinking about a deeper feeling, like a crush or love

13 . . . WOOZI

a mix between minghao, and vernon - he’s both realistic, and does not want to jump into anything before he gets to know you better

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seventeen kpop #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen carat #seventeen reaction #seventeen requests #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua #woozi #wen junhui #wonwoo #vernon #svt #seungkwan #dino #svt woozi #mingyu #minghao #hoshi #chwe vernon

[schrodinger-swriter]

Helluva Hotel Masterlist

Here you will find my writings for Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. I more so go off of what we are shown within the episodes, as I do not follow Vivzie and the crew on social media. Any headcanons that may go against what has been said outside of that is purely do to this fact. I stress that you be patient.

The characters listed below do not determine what characters I will and wont write for. I will not be writing for Valentino, though. For reasons I feel I do not need to explain.

CHARLIE:

F J O C for Charlie

B L T Z for Charlie

D G K U V for Charlie

Prompts 1 and 3 with Charlie

Prompts 2 8 and 11 with Charlie

VAGGIE:

B C J L T Z for Vaggie

ALASTOR:

Alastor x Deaf!Reader

Alastor x Short!Hotheaded!Reader

Alastor and the Reader pining for one another

H I P W for Alastor

S for Alastor

Alastor x Short!Plushie!Reader

A B C E G J K for Alastor

L Q R for Alastor

D N Y Z for Alastor

Prompts 3 and 4 with Alastor

Alastor and the Reader battling together

T X for Alastor

Prompts 8 11 12 with Alastor

Platonic Alastor x Reader who loves old music

Alastor x Cat Demon!Reader

SIR PENTIOUS:

Sir Pentious x Warm bodied!Reader

Sir Pentious and the Reader pining for one another

A D J Z for Sir Pentious

I K O P Q U for Sir Pentious

C H S X Y for Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious x Winged!Reader

Reader becoming jealous of Cherri Bomb

Sir Pentious x Bat!Reader

Sir Pentious x Intelligent!Inventor!Reader

Romantic Sir Pentious headcanons

Sir Pentious x Reader w/ a goat skull for a head

Prompts 3, 4, 11 with Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious with a partner who is maternal to the egg boiz

Sir Pentious and the Egg Boiz with a Sick!Motherly!Reader

Marriage with Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious x Reader who is on their period

Sir Pentious saving the Reader

Sir Pentious x Reader who has self image issues

Sir Pentious x Girly!Reader

HUSK:

A C I J K N P Z for Husk

E H L R X for Husk

Platonic Father!Husker x Teen!Reader

ANGEL DUST:

A D F K L P Q T X for Angel Dust

C I Z for Angel Dust

Angel Dust x Asexual!Reader

Platonic Angel Dust x Reader who ghost writes erotica

NIFFTY:

B Y N for Niffty

C G I P for Niffty

LUCIFER:

A B E H for Lucifer

J K L Z for Lucifer

D I O X Y for Lucifer

R T for Lucifer

P U for Lucifer

Lucifer x Sinner!Reader

C for Lucifer

Lucifer x Fallen Angel!Reader

Lucifer x Reader who did something terrible for a good cause

Lucifer x Writer!Reader

Prompt 13 with Lucifer

Prompt 12 with Lucifer

Prompts 8 10 and 11 with Lucifer

Prompt 3 with Lucifer

Prompt 1 with Lucifer

Lucifer x Artist!Reader

Lucifer x Baker!Reader

Flying with Lucifer

Lucifer x Gardener!Reader

VOX:

C E I J M F for Vox

B D K for Vox

Vox x Cat Demon!Reader who bites him

Vox x Reader who gives him things

Prompts 8 9 10 with Vox

Prompts 5 and 12 with Vox

LUTE:

C K Z J for Lute

A B G H U for Lute

D E L V W for Lute

Prompts 1 3 12 with Lute

Prompt 10 with Lute

Prompt 5 with Lute

Prompts 8 and 13 with Lute

Prompts 7 and 15 with Lute

M R for Lute

ADAM:

B C K L P for Adam

Q U R X Z for Adam

CARMILLA:

Carmilla x Injured!Reader

Prompt 13 with Carmilla

A B C F J for Carmilla

ROSIE:

T V for Rosie

Prompts 2 and 13 with Rosie

C K Z for Rosie

J I for Rosie

Prompts 3 and 9 with Rosie

Rosie x Non Cannibal!Reader

FIZZ:

Platonic Fizz x Clown!Reader

STRIKER:

Striker x Reader who got cheated on by Blitz

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS:

Asmodeus and Fizz being friends with the reader

The main cast of Hazbin on Valentine's day

FLUFF ALPHABET

TROPES LIST

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss x you #charlie morningstar x reader #vaggie x reader #alastor x reader #angel dust x reader #niffty x reader #vox x reader #husker x reader #husk x reader #lucifer x reader #blitzo x reader #moxxie x reader #millie x reader #stolas x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin adam x reader #lute x reader #carmilla x reader #asmodeus x reader #fizzaroli x reader #hazbin rosie x reader

[crystallilytarot]

Choose a random item! Fanfiction trope with your partner

1- ship

It's written Capri on the ship, so maybe Italy is an important place for you or your partner, or maybe you or them are from an island, or you will go there together.

So, it feels like friends to lovers. But like a superhero movie :) You will have some difficulties in your life and your partner will help you or even save you, stand up for you. I feel after this, you will be friends first, so it's not a fast moving relationship. You go to the same school or you work together, or maybe you move to another place, and they will help you with your baggeges or show you the city. They can be someone that you already know, but you were never been more than friends until now. There will be some people who will try to sabotage your relationship, but don't listen to their lies! In the end you will be together and it will be a very loving, nurturing and romantic connection. Honestly, you are cute together.

Significant numbers maybe : 1, 5, 7, 8, 18, 85.

2-merry-go-round

Strangers to lovers definitely! It's a faded connection, you are literally meant to be together. I feel some fun times here, a trip, amusement park, garden, flowers, maybe a costume party. You will have fun that day, and you will have fun together too, it's like love at first sight. It can be a birthday or a celebration too. For some of you, you will spend the night together that day wink wink :) But after that you or them will feel regretful, I think maybe both of you, because you will think that the other person don't want anything else, but it's not the case at all! Another scenario is that you will be in separation for a while, but not because a breakup, these person live somewhere else. And they don't contact you right away after they go back home, so you will think it was just a fun night for them. You two will have a long distance relationship for a while, but one of you will move to the other person's place, and after that you will be inseparable. :) I see a lot of cuddling, pillow talk.

Important numbers maybe : 2, 4, 9, 10, 29, 94, 99.

3-cherry blossom candle

Spring may be important for you or some of you are from Japan or Japan is an important place for you.

Ngl it feels like a sugar daddy / sugar mommy and sugar baby relationship :) Even if it's not, they will be very supportive and caring towards you. It can be someone from your workplace, maybe your boss. I feel like your job doesn't pay well enough, but you will have a better opportunity and you will meet them there. Or you will have 2 people who wants to be with you, and you will have to choose. It probably will take some time for you to think about this and choose. I don't think that you will choose the money, there are emotions here. And it's not about the money, but this person will treat you right, and you deserve it! If you want to have children, you will have a family with this person, or pets, most likely dogs, but can be other types of pets too. I see a garden and a very comfortable, cozy home. You will take care of each other, both of you will nurture this relationship, but still, I feel like them will treat you like a queen/king. It's not just financial support, but emotional too. You will move to their house or it can be like you will left your past behind. It feels like after all the hardships you will have your rewards from the Universe!

Important numbers maybe : 1, 2, 6, 9, 10, 19, 21, 66.

#free tarot #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile

[andkisses]

♡ a good way | beomgyu ♡

despite the director casting you and beomgyu, your best friend, as the romantic leads, you both promise it won’t change anything between you

♡ beomgyu x gn!reader | wc. 9.1k ♡ genres/tropes: college!au, friends-to-loves, theater!au, hurt/comfort ♡ mentions of/warnings: injuries, lmk if there's anything else ♡ a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote and posted YEARS ago; unfortunately it was eaten up when i accidentally deleted my blog :’) it was originally for joshua from svt; i changed some of the times in the fic from the original, so if it’s a little wonky that’s why :’) pls enjoy ! <3 at the time it was my longest fic, now only second to roman holiday ^^ a/n 2: apologies for my absences ! i had some health issues even tho it was supposed to be my break :') im doing well now ^^

♡ masterlist ♡

It was strange. Weird. Practically unfathomable and there must be some kind of mistake. The play had those two characters as romantic leads. The ones who slowly turn to look at each other, catch the starry glint in the other’s eye before slowly leaning in, before slowly closing their eyes, before slowly feeling their heartbeat accelerate because oh heavens this is it—before slowly kissing each other for the first time with such tender passion some members of the audience start to cry.

Those roles were not ever meant for the ones who have been friends since seventh grade, where one of them accidentally tripped and tossed their lunch all over the other, rendering the former an apologetic mess and the latter slightly smelling of garlic for the rest of the day. Not for the ones who stayed up far too late binge watching whole seasons of anime because they finally turned in that big project and it’s in fate’s hands now. Definitely not friends who are each other’s best friends, always. Never them.

But when the director swings back to the two of you, the mischievous and excited glint in his eye is unmistakable. His giddiness even bubbles over and he repeats himself, happily gazing between you and the best friend of 8 years standing beside you. “Beomgyu, Y/N, you will be the best two leads this stage has ever seen.”

You don’t want to talk about it. You avoid it for as long as possible. Have every conversation about everything else possible except the one topic that actually needs discussion. The trees outside are slowly losing their crunchy leaves, littering the ground with crimson and gold and sprigs of chocolate in between. They rustle and fuss when walked over, and shuffle down the street in a hoard of warning, proclaiming threats of the bitter winds of winter that would soon approach and engulf everyone whole.

Some mornings, you can see remnants of late-night frost on window panes, icy designs laced over the glass in the early morning hours. The grass glistens and shimmers with frozen dew, and the sidewalk is slippery enough to encourage walking slowly or bypassing concrete altogether and walking through the dead leaves. Some nights, you can see your breath curl as you wait outside the diner, a translucent white beast disappearing into the night. As night draws darker earlier, the air grows colder, like a mysterious ghost. One moment, you’re warm—the next, a bitter chill sprints around you, immersing everything in a coldness that drills past your layers and settles into your bones.

But you’d wait a thousand years in the cold just to walk him home. You’d wait forever if it meant seeing him one last time before the day ended and blurred into the next through a series of dreams and quiet darkness.

Beomgyu is one of the last few people out of the diner; he never closes, but he stays as long as he can, helping out and cleaning before his boss gets angry and tells him to “go home! Don’t you have homework?” When he steps out onto the street, making sure to close the door behind him, he’s safely bundled up in a black pea coat and a plaid woolen scarf that, when wound up, nearly encompasses his neck, chin, and even the bottom tips of his ears. When he sees you waiting for him again, he smiles, eyes lighting up like firecrackers and his grin is so warm it starts to defrost your bones, slowly but surely.

“You know you don’t have to wait for me?” he says, falling in step with you as the two of you began the chilled trek back to your apartment.

“Yeah,” you shrug, “but then who will make sure you don’t get lost on your way back? Or, I don’t know, get eaten by a star-monster?”

“A star-monster?” He quirks his head towards you, raising his eyebrow in mild but amused confusion.

You nod your head. “What if the stars gang up on you and snatch you right off the face of the earth and you disappear into the sky? And no one knows or can save you because I wasn’t there? Hm?”

A bitter chuckle escapes his lips. The white curl of his breath fills the air in front of him before it fades, taking the bright look in his eyes with it. “Then I guess I wouldn’t have to be a part of the musical, would I?”

Silence washes over you like a breaking wave—it hurts and stings, knocking everything away and tossing the tiny ships around into chaos. The only sound now is the brush of the wind skirting the leaves down the street with you and the distant city noise. The heels of your shoes hit the pavement in time together, and your breaths slowly start to match up. But something’s off; you feel it in your heart and your bones begin to ache again as the cold ice returns once more, spreading their chilled fingers across them.

Somehow, you find your voice, but it’s quiet and small. “It couldn’t be that bad, could it?”

Beomgyu shrugs, looking anywhere but you. He throws his head back and stares up at the night sky, where the stars kindly twinkle back at him, almost as a promise of we’d never steal you away. You look up, too, but all you see is a menacing darkness that you’re not sure you can get rid of. It feels like it’s bearing down on you, pressing down on your head, your shoulders, and your heart. With it comes a dark doubt, one that oozes into the cracks of your armor and makes you start to question things. It beckons out the dangerous thoughts—the what ifs—and coaxes them into the light and forces you to acknowledge them. What if... this changes things. What if... it ruins things. What if...

“Y/N?”

Your gaze drops back down. Beomgyu stands a few yards ahead of you, in the light of one of the yellow streetlamps. You must have stopped while lost in thought, slowing down until you ended up stuck in between two lamps, in the shadowy part. “Hm?”

He shakes his head. “You just stopped walking.” He turns toward you completely and quickens his pace until he’s beside you again. The look on his face screams of concern, of wondering if his best friend is fine or if it’s something he can’t fix. He reaches out to take your hand in his. “Is everything okay?”

Your heart swells, but it still feels as if it will break, shatter, crumble at any time or place. It feels like porcelain, that if it isn’t handled with care and marked FRAGILE, it will ruin to the point that nothing can fix it. You know what question you have to ask; it’s weighing down on your tongue and you’ll have to force it out.

You gulp, and you can feel your hand shaking in his. Beomgyu’s eyebrows knit together, his starry eyes trying to search for what’s wrong. For what is in need of helping. You stare back at him, garnering the courage to ask the question that’s been plaguing you since roles had been assigned. “The show–it won’t change anything between us, will it?”

And then, he does something unthinkable.

He laughs.

Beomgyu lets go of your hand and bends over in half, practically cackling at the idea, whisker dimples on full display. When he stands back up again, he’s still laughing hard enough he crinkles into your frame, resting a hand on your shoulder and burying his head into your neck, an arm resting across his stomach. His body shakes with laughter, and it’s infectious. A grin slowly spreads across your face, and then a giggle works its way out until the two of you are both laughing like fools. You may be between two lampposts in the shadows, but there’s light where you are.

When the laughter finally subsides to gentle smiles, Beomgyu takes your hand again and tugs you close. He starts walking again, pulling you along, swinging your arms between the two of you. He knocks into your shoulder jokingly, and the both of you smile harder.  “Of course not,” Beomgyu says. His smile is pure, assuring. The hand in yours is warm, stable. “Nothing will ever change us.”

Seventh Grade.

The auditorium was full of anxious students, the buzz of noise telling the story of those who were waiting for their turn to shine on stage. The lights were turned on as bright as they would be for a performance, and the stage was decorated with real props from last semester’s performance, a steampunk rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. No one thought the director could pull it off, but when the curtains closed for the last time that first showing, everyone was left starstruck and a new round of students was inspired to try out for the next performance.

A loud clap from the director thundered through the auditorium, signaling for attention and shocking you into your seat a little further. The red fabric bristled against whatever skin your sweater didn’t cover. Outside, the harsh winter weather pummeled the barren landscape, the dead, empty tree branches getting whipped by the bitter, unforgiving wind. The light dusting of snow made everything brighter, almost to the point it hurt to look out the windows at the white world. Inside, however, was full of warm tones and warm breaths. The heat of the auditorium practically had you sweltering, making you wish you had worn layers instead of a bright green sweater. The threads around the collar began to itch at your neck, and you tugged at the hem in search of relief. You really wanted to be here. You really wanted to audition. But the number of people and how long you’ve waited has started to play mind games with you. What if they don’t get to you today? What if they skip over you entirely for someone else? Someone with more theater experience from prior years than you, a complete newbie? What if—

“Hey, uh, is this seat taken?”

You looked up, still fiddling with your itchy collar. It was the boy from the day before—Beomgyu. The one who had accidentally tripped over someone else’s backpack and thrown his lunch all over you. He looked like a complete wreck, one hand holding onto the wrist of the other arm, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes as he struggled to even look in your direction. You shelf your own nerves and offer up a kind smile and pat the seat, which he hastily filled.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a while afterward. On stage, more students rotated through songs and performances, some spectacular and others a little lackluster. It was beginning to become monotonous, and your mind started to wonder if you had gotten here earlier, would you have already auditioned by now? But then something happened. A student walked on stage, introduced themselves politely, and then began to blow everyone and every other performance out of the water. The way they moved, spoke, sang—everything they did was captivating and you felt yourself leaning forward in your seat, drawing ever nearer to the practically perfect audition. There was no music playing in the background, but their vocals and stage presence was more than enough. The entire auditorium erupted in applause when the student on stage finished.

“Wow,” you breathed out. You’d practically fallen out of the chair—feet standing on tiptoes, elbows on knees, chin rested in your cupped hands with a shimmer in your eyes. That. You wanted to be like that. Bewitching, enchanting, and utterly spellbinding.

“I know right?” the boy whispered beside you. The two of you turned to look at each other, and somehow, in the back of your mind, you registered he was sitting the same way you were, looking completely and utterly enraptured with the previous performance. He stared into your eyes—the first time, you noted—and you could see the stars, like a secret milky way full of wonder. There was a serious note in them. “Let’s both do our best so when we grow up, we can be that good.”

“No.” You shook your head, and Beomgyu’s face collapsed into confusion. You shook your head again, this time with a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. “No, when we grow up, we’ll be way better.”

A murmur ripples around campus. Sophomore year of college, and all of high school behind you. You’d think you would be used to it by now, the way quiet words spread around so sneakily but somehow always managed to make their way to your ears, too. But when the girls in the bathroom see you and slyly turn away, whispering how you and Beomgyu have the romantic leads, how of course they do, you can’t help but feel the knot in your stomach form and twist your insides until you feel pressure on your heart as well. Until it feels like you’re about to burst and spill everywhere. You want to spin at them, throw your hands out, and tell them how it’s not like that! That there’s nothing between the two of you except for friendship, the purest of kinds! Stop thinking that way!

But the wiser part of you, the one that’s been through high school, knows that they would just nod their head and try to hide their smirk. You can’t change their minds; they’ll always be thinking and imagining what they want.

Outside, the halls teem with people trying to get to their next class or break. You debate on stopping by your locker near the theater—you won’t need your books again until you go home thanks to rehearsal, but it would be out of your way to get there, on the opposite side of the arts block. But your books are heavy. Really heavy. Like shoulder-breaking, premature back pain-inducing heavy. You find that your feet have started to take you through the crowds to your locker before your mind decides on the plan itself.

In middle school, your and Beomgyu’s lockers were practically as far as they could be from one another. Yours by the gymnasium and near the arts building and the theater. With your mismatched class schedules, you only got to see each other at lunch and for theater. As your friendship grew, he would let you borrow locker space. It got to the point where you basically co-owned each other’s lockers; everything for classes on his side of the building was in his locker and everything for classes on your side was in yours.

By the time high school rolled around two grades later, the two of you were inseparable. As were your lockers. His at one end of the hall, yours at the other end on the opposite side. This only caused trouble junior year, when the two of you had such a bad falling out you could hardly bare to walk past one another’s locker let alone the other person. You would end up taking roundabout ways to your own locker, which worked until you ended up running into him one day without warning.

But you don’t have that problem now. As you walk past Beomgyu, who’s standing by his locker talking to another theater kid, you lightly slug his shoulder. You turn to walk backward and catch his reaction, and he’s staring back at you with fake confusion and his arms thrown up in the air. “You’ll pay for that!” he calls after you.

“Yeah, yeah, sure I will!”

You reach your locker, a happy smile on your face, glad your best friend is the kind of person you can beat up on. You spin the lock with precision, ready to open the door, slam your books inside on the shelf, and hurry to the theater for rehearsals. You can’t wait to see what strange exercises the director would have up his sleeve today; last time, he had everyone stand on the steps in the audience and each time they recited a line correctly, they got to move up two steps. First to the top wins; you and Beomgyu tied for first.

When you pull out the lock and swing the door open, what you see ruins your mood instantly. The crisp, white, inch-thick script stares back at you with quiet remorse. Remember me? it seems to say. Don’t forget about me. You’re almost afraid to touch it, knowing exactly what it holds in its pages even without having read a single line. If your fingers were to graze it, it’s as if an electric shock would shoot out and stop your heart from ever beating again. A tiny part of you wonders if, if your heart really did stop beating, would Beomgyu come to your side and rescue you?

Or would it be like the other night, with a sharp, bitter laugh and a mild happiness over a forgotten kiss.

You’re jostled out of your stupor by a neat punch to your arm, and you fall back into your locker with a metallic clang. When your vision focuses back on the real world, you see Beomgyu walking away from you towards the theater with a confident smirk on his face. He throws out his hands, his smile growing even wider. “I told you, you’d pay for that!”

You’re smiling too, now, and you hurry and grab the script and race after him.

It will all be okay. The two of you had already talked about it, how nothing could change between you two. Regardless of what the girls in the bathroom would dare to say in front of you. Regardless of what anyone else on campus or your major are thinking. Regardless of the script that burns slightly in your grasp, the crisp paper threatening to cut tiny slices into your delicate skin. You and Beomgyu—inseparable best friends for the rest of time.

It would always be that way. No play, no roles, no romantic leads, would get in the way of that. You’d promised each other you’d be each other’s best friend, always.

Freshman year.

Sunlight streaming through the loosely drawn curtains was what woke you, lit patterns playing across your face. Your back ached from sleeping on a couch at a crooked angle for who knows how long. You stretched and tried to pull at your sore joints, attempting to return them to pre-crooked status. The room was still dark; the lamps were all off and the only other source of light was the television, where Netflix was playing some random anime you don’t remember ever selecting or talking about. Vague memories float up to the surface slowly as you finished waking up: you and Beomgyu had turned in a big semester final project that neither of you had thought would be finished on time but somehow managed to pull off. Deciding to get take out and stay up as long as possible watching as many seasons of anime as you could fit in and—

“Boo!”

Your scream echoed through the small dorm and you pulled at the blanket on top of you, trying to hide behind the soft, comforting quilt. On the other side of the couch was Beomgyu, laughing so hard he nearly rolled off onto the shag carpet rug. You half thought about being kind, and warning him to be careful because if he fell he could hit his head on the coffee table, but the other half said he scared you and deserved whatever happened next.

“How could you be so mean!” you whined, reaching behind you to grab a pillow to throw at your best friend’s face. “How long had you been planning something like that?”

Beomgyu paused his laughter to think. “Probably since I woke up about ten minutes ago. It would have been more elaborate, but then you woke up and I ran out of time.”

“You’ll pay for that, you know,” you muttered, drawing the blankets closer against your chest, where inside your heart still beating faster than usual.

“Even after helping you with that project and pay for dinner? On a college budget?” He paused for another moment, resting his chin between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. “Wait, pay for dinner... seems like I’ve already paid for it, Y/N.”

“Beomgyu!” You lunged forward, diving towards his end of the couch. Instead of a successful attack, you landed squarely in his arms, where he proceeded to tug you tightly against his chest. Escape, you soon realized, was futile. You’d have to talk your way out of this one. “Beomgyu, let me go. Now!"

“You know, you sure are whiney when you wake up,” he commented, rustling the hair atop your head. Your heart was still beating quickly and you were convinced the flush of your cheeks was due to large bouts of boiling hot rage streaming through your veins. “And why should I?”

“I would be in a nicer mood if you hadn’t scared me!” You tried to wriggle your arms up and pry your way out, but his grip was solid still, strong and warm. Since when was he ever this strong? His cheeks, you noticed, were warm and rosy as well, but that was from laughing too hard, you were sure. Why else would they be flushed?

“You may have a point…”

“Of course, I have a point! Now let me go!”

Mischief swam around with the stars in your best friend’s eyes. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, planning something you could only hope wasn’t entirely embarrassing. One eyelid dropped shut, and the smirk on his lips was unmistakable. “I will, but only if you pay for breakfast. From somewhere nice,” he rushes to add. “Student union doesn’t count.”

You released a terse sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Fine! Deal! Now, release me!”

His arms slid away and you rolled over onto the floor, gently landing between the couch and the coffee table. The carpet was rough against your bare arms, but you were glad to be freed from Beomgyu’s death grip.

He was situated on the edge of the couch, chin resting lazily on his forearm, his eyes filled with mild shock and awe. “Really?” he gasped, as if he couldn’t actually believe you’d agreed. “Even if it’s the overpriced brunch food from the boutique down the street?”

You sighed, staring back at him.  “Yes. Even the brunch food from the boutique down the street.”

A moment of stillness, then...

“I’m glad we’re best friends," he said plainly, no hesitation in his voice. His dark eyes had warmed to a welcoming honest color, the kind some people could describe as home. The air around the two of you was still, a precious silence that quietly begged to be broken softly. Outside, the morning birds began to sing their late winter tune, beckoning spring to arrive as soon as possible. The sun filtered through the tiny windows brightly now, filling the dorm with warm yellow like that made everything feel nostalgic. Like the perfect ’80s movie.

When you found your voice, your words were soft but not timid. They held the same amount of honesty and weight as his had. “Me, too. We’re best friends, always.”

A soft smile played at Beomgyu’s lips as he echoed your promise. “Always.”

The walk back to your apartment is chilly. Even though the sun shone brightly ahead, the first freeze of the season the night prior plunged your town from late autumn into early winter. What few leaves remain on the trees might as well be frozen on, and the rest of the dead ones scattered around on the pavement, crunchy husks of their former selves. It’s daylight, but you can easily imagine if darkness were shrouded around you, your breaths would be rising out in front of you in vague translucent puffs. Cold describes everything in sight.

Beomgyu is close by your side, nestled in that ridiculously oversized scarf of his. Christmas is a while away, but you’re already planning on getting him a nice, Beomgyu-sized scarf, probably a deep brown to match his eyes.

“What’cha thinking about?” His voice, clear as crystal, cuts through the air like a sharpened knife, but it doesn’t startle you. It’s warm and inviting against the bitter winter weather, a gentle fire among the cold.

“What I’m gonna get you for Christmas,” you reply, burying your hands into your coat pockets. The pavement scuffs beneath your boots, the walk back home growing boring. As you crossed the street where you two used to part ways freshman year, him to the left and you to the right, you remember when he said his parents told him they were moving during high school. How distraught the two of you became, only to find out he was moving in across the street from your house. Now, you split the rent for a two bedroom apartment. “How about you?”

“To be completely honest, I’m wishing I had remembered my gloves this morning, because right now, my hands are extremely cold.”

You laugh, a bright chuckle, and pull your own hands out of your pockets, staring down at the grey gloves cloaking your fingertips. You hold out your hand towards him. “Want to take one?”

Beomgyu scoffs. “And let you suffer from an equally terrible fate as myself? I think not. At least one of us needs to live.”

You laugh again, throwing your hands back into your pocket. “Fine, be that way.” You cut in front of him, dashing over to the short decorative stone wall running as a divider between the grassy park and the sidewalk. In a quick hop, you’re walking along the top as it gradually slopes higher to the point your feet are even with Beomgyu’s waist.

He stares up at you as you hold your arms at length on either side of you, a small frown playing on his lips. “Be careful,” he warns, the tone of his voice surprisingly stern, something he rarely treats you with. When you look down, you see his brows creased as he follows your pace.

“Yeah, okay, dad,” you laugh, finding the bitter look on Beomgyu’s face amusing. The stone wall beneath your feet is sturdy, and your balance is just as solid. Years of strange theater exercises had brought you that. You can even see your apartment down the street; you’d walk all the way atop this wall, taller now still, and show him.  You’ll get to the end and hop off dramatically and tease him for worrying. He keeps pace with you perfectly, still by your side even if there’s distance. The look in Beomgyu’s eyes tells you he wants to reprimand you, take you by the waist and set you safely on the sidewalk before scolding you on every reason why you shouldn’t have done that. But you don’t need him to. You’re perfectly safe with no reason to worry and—

You’ve misstepped.

Your foot is too far from the center, closer to the edge of the stonewall than you had anticipated. There’s not enough foot on the edge to save it. Your impressive balance is misplaced even further as your arms circle widely at your sides, trying in vain to regain some semblance of stability. You can feel yourself pitch sideways, your feet finally coming out from beneath you, and now you’re looking up at the crystal blue sky.

There’s not a cloud in sight, odd for this early winter day, and for the shortest of moments, it’s like you're falling through the atmosphere. The cold wind biting at your cheeks is caused by your descent. The screams you hear are just the air rushing past your ears, calling your name, not anyone else. The clunk of bodies hitting the pavement is just an illusion.

Your vision snapping to black is just a mistake, a cruel trick of fate, like the dark doubts that swarm around your head when you’re all alone. The blackness is almost welcoming, and you succumb quietly.

Twelfth Grade

Four weeks.  Just under a month. Your life had gone from bold with color and emotion to two steps from dead and lifeless. Subjects you’d once enjoyed, now dull and monotonous. Walks to school were boring. Lunch and free period were non-committal. You’d skipped theater more than your fingers could count; you’d gotten an email from the director asking if everything was okay.

But it wasn’t. Nothing was.

Because it had been four weeks, just under a month, since you’d talked to your best friend.

What you’d even been fighting over, you couldn’t remember. That entire night is a fogged mess in your memory banks, existing but inaccessible. You know it’s there, but your brain, or maybe your heart, refuses to replay the details for you. The only information it relays is that there was a fight, and somehow some kind of words were said that ended in hot tears and storming out of houses with no goodbyes, take cares, or any sign of always.

Life since then had been weird, like you had shifted from one plane of existence but the world didn’t shift with you. Like a blurry camera shot, where one part of the image is in focus with fuzzy edges but everything else is shaken and smeared like thick wet paint.

All the love and joy theater had brought you since seventh grade was gone, five years nearly shattered to pieces inside your nearly-broken heart. You had no idea when the light would return, or if you would ever act again. It was so closely entwined to him, it physically hurt to walk near the theater or even think of certain plays.

Just like it hurt in the classes you shared. Sitting across the room from each other as far as possible, as opposed to right next to each other and sharing looks and soft smiles. The other students and even the teachers were left in a mild tailspin of confusion. There was never a scene made, nor any words spoken. Glances weren’t exchanged anymore. You never looked in his direction; your heart would ache far too much to handle.

Different pathways were even chosen to get between classes. You didn’t want a chance encounter in the halls, you couldn’t handle it. You guessed he couldn’t either, because you never saw him. There were never any accidental meet ups by your lockers, either.

Your plan had been to skip theater again and take the bus home, riding it around until it dropped you off last. You wouldn’t have to see him, it wouldn’t have to hurt, for that day at least. But you were running late, another teacher asking if you were okay needing brushing off. You needed to hurry and stop by your locker to retrieve your books. The bus was leaving soon; if you wanted to leave, you’d need to rush.

The halls were empty, everyone either in their after school clubs or outside waiting for the buses. You hurried to your locker, fingers anxious to spin the code in, grab your books, and leave. You reached inside, ready to retrieve the books by their spine and disappear from this place for what would feel like a short eternity. The hall was too bright, too empty, too--

“Y/N?”

Your heart skipped a beat, head whipping to the side. Beomgyu stood mere feet from you, but he might as well have been a thousand miles away. There were no longer any stars in his eyes, no warmth or cheer. They were sad, dark pits of self-doubt. They were muted screams, begging for help but not being quite loud enough. The dark circles under his eyes pleaded as well, and the downturn of his lips was what sent your stoic, bored, “I can make this” facade spiraling downwards.

You reached forward instinctively, wanting to cup his cheek with your hand and gently rub away the dark circles with your thumb, but you froze midway. Your voice even hitched. “Beomgyu... you look…”

“Awful? Dreadful? Like hell?” he filled in for you, and you couldn’t help but nod. Your chest was tight, almost to the point you wanted to clutch and tear at your heart to find relief. And the way your best friend was standing, shoulders slumped and body looking one strong wind from caving in like a fragile house of cards, it seemed like his heart was aching, too.

“What happened to us?” you asked, voice quiet and quivering. The hot buildup of tears began behind your eyes, making the edges of your vision blur together in a mass of sad, muted tones. “Why did we—”

“I don’t know,” he answered quickly, anxiously, as if he doesn’t speak fast, he’ll lose you again. He took a tender step forward, leaving only a few feet between you, but it was still too much space. You missed being side by side, close enough to bump into each other’s shoulders or elbow each other’s sides. Beomgyu took another tiny step towards you when you didn't move back. “What were we even fighting about?”

“I don’t know.” You felt like one step away from crumbling inwards, clasping in on yourself and all the way to the cool hallway floor. Your hands were shaking now at your sides, and you gripped your hoodie hem to prevent the shivers from racing up your arms and shaking the rest of you until you shattered into tiny shards. The moment your fingers curled around the soft hem was when you realized: it was his. You’d thrown in on that morning without even thinking. Now, all you could notice was how strongly, how nicely it smelled like him. You took in a solid breath of air to prevent the tears from spilling over, but it was shaky and unconvincing. “Whatever we were fighting about, it’s not worth this. I miss you, Beomgyu.”

His eyes were still empty, no stars in sight, but now they were glossy with tears. His chin quivered, and his lips moved to say something but couldn’t. His fingers curled and uncurled around the leather strap of his messenger bag. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “I miss you. So much it hurts to breathe, so much I can’t stand to look at you in class or else I feel like crying. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Please, please, forgive me and be my best friend again. I don’t think I can take life without you anymore.”

The both of you lunged forward at the same time, wrapping each other in a hug. Your arms clung to his neck while his encircled your waist, holding you close. Warm, salty tears finally spilled over, running down your cheek and onto the soft denim of his jacket. By his shaky breaths, you figured he was crying, too. “I don’t want you not in my life anymore either,” you managed, hoping somehow that you’d made sense.

Beomgyu laughed in your arms, drawing you even nearer. “Good, because I really didn’t want to have to explain to your father why I was standing under your window with my guitar instead of just letting myself in like usual.”

You laughed too, but the kind of broken laugh where you find pure happiness just after harsh sadness. Your heart swelled with joy, knowing that Beomgyu was still yours. The time you’d spent apart, not talking or goofing around or shoving each other playfully with stupid grins on both of your faces, had been life-draining. You’d never get it back, even if you spent forever together. You never wanted to go through anything like that ever again.

Beomgyu nestled into the crook of your neck, words whispered so quietly you knew instantly that they were just for you. “We’re each other’s best friends, always. Right?”

You wrap your arms around even tighter, a true smile on your face for the first time in weeks. “Right. Always, Beomgyu, always.”

The apartment is quiet. The shades are drawn open, allowing late afternoon sunlight to spill in and swim around on soft carpet floors, bathing them in warm yellow light. The television in the corner is on but mute, the news airing with no noise. The heater kicked on a minute or so ago, filling the house with nicely warm air. Outside, soft baby snowflakes begin to fall out of the sky, the first snowfall of the season. If the sound had been on, you would have known that the weatherman said the snow was no reason for concern—it wouldn’t accumulate to the point it was dangerous. Just a light dusting, something to make the outdoors look nice and wintry.

But you are unconcerned with whatever the weatherman’s words may be or the consequences of the snow. There are more pressing concerns.

Your voice warbles as you pull out the first aid kit from above the washer and walk back into the living room. “Beomgyu, I’m so so sorry, I—” You bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying; there wasn’t time for that now.  The white plastic lid snaps open, and you pull out the gauze, the alcohol wipes, and the bandages with shaky hands. He sits on the edge of the couch, one hand bracing himself on the cushion, the wounded one resting tenderly on his lap.

You lower to stand on your knees and reach out to take the hurt one in yours. You stare down at his split second knuckle, an ugly gash that would surely scar no matter how kindly or tenderly you treated it. Caused because of your stupidity, your recklessness. Caused because you tripped or slipped or something and fell off the wall. Caused because he risked his safety to catch you. You feel your heart break, knowing the scar would be your fault, forever, and you can’t ever fix it no matter how hard you try.

There’s no going back, or rewinding time to try again.

Beomgyu winces as you wipe at the cut with the alcohol wipes, and you mutter sorry after sorry. It’s beginning to not even feel like a real word. You can feel your chest heaving, one step away from a total breakdown as you swim through deep and measured breaths. Guilt pours over you like a thick syrup, sticking to every surface and threatening to drag you down and drown you whole. It fills into the cracks of your armor, bubbling up inside you like a witch’s brew. As you place the gaze and wrap the bandages around his hand, your breaths are coming shallower and shallower, your ability to keep it together fading. When you tie the bandages into place, you let go and drop to sit on your heels, all energy gone. Your head hangs in shame, and you wish you could crawl away and hide somewhere until further notice.

Which would be easier if you didn’t share a damn apartment.

However, your best friend won’t let you.

“Hey,” he calls, his voice soft and soothing. His healthy hand curls under your chin, gently begging you to look up, and you comply. His eyes are calm and filled with stars again,  and other emotions you can’t quite place. He smiles kindly, and you can feel your heart shatter at that instant. Right now, you don’t deserve that kindness. Your shoulders spike up and tears begin to spill over. Beomgyu’s face collapses into concern, and he slides off the couch to sit on the floor next to you, legs crossed.

When he places his hands on your shoulders, you try to shake them off. “Please, just...” Your voice falls away. How could you ever apologize for what happened? You knew you shouldn’t have, and yet you did. You knew he seriously disapproved, even if he didn’t voice it totally, and yet you continued. You knew, deep down, that you were getting cocky, and yet you didn’t stop. You had plans on teasing him, mocking him for his concern. The guilt presses down and down, crunching against your head, your shoulders, and your heart until you could scarcely breathe. Quiet sobs heave against your frame, from your torso down to your whole body. You could tell, soon, that you’d simply shake apart into fragments that could never be pieced together again.

You injured your best friend from your own stupidity.

“Hey,” Beomgyu says again, and this time, he reaches for you and pulls you into his lap, safely tucking you under his chin. You don’t resist, and even if you wanted to, you doubt you could have done it past all the crying. He gently rocks you back and forth, rubbing your back, soothing you as one would a small child. Once your sobs have subsided, and your breaths return to a semi-normal state, he speaks again. “I don’t hate you for what happened, if that’s what you think. I could never, I…”

You pull yourself slightly from his grasp, enough to stare at him at eye level, coming out from underneath the warm spot of his chin and neck and shoulder. The emotions swirling around amongst the stars in his eyes are new and unusual to yet, and some part of you feels at home with them. Your voice is quiet, almost hesitant, when you talk. “You... what?”

Beomgyu takes a breath, as if steeling himself. "I have something I need to tell you."

"Need?" you echo, head quirking to one side in confusion.

He nods, staring straight into your eyes. When he speaks, his tone is something you’ve rarely ever heard before. “Need. My chest might burst if I don’t get this off it, and that wouldn’t really help me graduate. Or tell you this. So... and seeming we might as well have almost died…” You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and Beomgyu seems hesitant, but only for a moment. Years of going up on stage have prepared him, but you can tell in this instance, he’s honest, 100% himself, and your best friend, not some actor playing a character for some play. 

He takes another breath before: “I think I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes grow wide, a small gasp escapes your lips, but he doesn’t stop.

“No, that’s not right. I know I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you for a long time but this... this is different. I want to keep you safe, to wipe away any of your tears. Seeing you sad just... tears at my heart. It hurts. Whenever you're sad or upset, I feel the same way, even if it’s just words over a text message. I really did feel like I was going to die when we had that fight. Living without you was unimaginable, but I had to go four weeks without you. Without your voice, your stupid jokes, your laugh. I guess I was in love with you then, too, I just didn’t know it.”

Words escape you, any witty comeback gone. You stare at him, the honesty in his eyes, thinking you’d see him differently after his confession. But you don’t. He’s still Beomgyu. He’s still your best friend. He’s still your Beomgyu.

One of your hands raises, and you tap yourself on your sternum. “Me?”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes now, as if he expected some kind of response like this. “Yes, you. I mean, who else would look up at the night sky, invent a star-monster, then worry about it taking me? I’ve wondered if I was really in love with you, like really actually in love with you. But when you fell and I caught you and you blacked out and I didn’t know why... Y/N, I was so worried. I could feel my heart breaking and I knew that if you never woke up, I wouldn’t ever be the same again.”

He’s mere inches from you, arms around you, body heat radiating off in such pleasant ways you feel okay with melting straight into the floor. His hands move from around your back to ghost around your face, like they want to caress you but are too afraid you might shatter like a fine porcelain under his touch. And his eyes—damn, his eyes. Every star, every galaxy, stirring together to create a beautiful milky way, a gaze so firm and caring you feel as if you’ll never look away. That if you somehow managed, too, you’d feel as if you were missing something dear and important.

Your heart flutters in your chest, its beat stuttery against your wrists. Oh, how on earth did you get here?

Maybe it was when one was so starstruck by the other they stopped watching where they were walking and dripped over someone’s strewn out, overstuffed backpack. When the other offered up a seat beside them during the audition to help settle nerves. Maybe it was when they woke up next to each other after having fallen asleep after binge watching an entire anime season or two, with Netflix on some other autoplay show, one was wondering how the other could look so soft and delicate just after they wake. When the other was happy that they were in each other’s lives. Maybe it was when they declared they’d always be friends, best friends, but now always seems to be more weighty and mean a little more than before.

Maybe, just maybe, this is when they slowly turn towards each other, catching the starry glint in the other’s eye. When they slowly lean forward, ever closer, to the point they can feel one another’s soft breath. When gazes go from eyes to lips and back. When heartbeats slowly start to be harder and louder. When you feel like you might be the one crying because oh heavens—this is it.

But there are things those plays never mention, things the audience can never detect.

They never mention how the palms of hands become sweaty, or how automatic it is to take a soft breath before another pair of lips meets yours, a touch so delicate you finally understand what all the hype is about.

How nice it feels to have two hands cupping your cheeks so gently, their little fear of shattering you gone, or how your own hand curls into the fabric of his shirt as if it’s second nature, the most right thing in the world.

How tantalizingly dizzy a first kiss is.

How soft lips are, how soothingly warm to the point you wouldn’t mind if they were all you felt. How tender goosebumps trail down your spine until something begins to pool in your stomach.

How, even though you’ve become utterly breathless, you can’t stop at just one, because now something that's been building and growing for years has unlocked.

Hands that trail from cheeks to ghost over the nape of the neck, sliding down arms softly to then find purchase at your waist. Kisses, more warm, tantalizing kisses that leave you craving for more. Kisses that roam from lips to chins, then trail down the jaw to tease and nip tender patches of skin on necks, only to return to corners of lips for more wholehearted, dizzying kisses.

You’re warm, almost hot, but it’s so pleasant. What exposed skin you have tingles with feeling, with a craving touch and affection, too. The two of you rest your forehead on one another’s, breath still shallow from all the kisses exchanged, hands softly interlocked with fingers entwined, or as much as one can with bandaged knuckles. He finds his voice first, though even it is soft and a little hoarse. “I should have done that a long time ago, huh?”

You giggle and snuggle closer, nestling into the crook of his neck. You place a kiss underneath his chin. Beomgyu rubs even patterns on your back with his healthy hand while you take the bandaged one in your own, cradling it gently. You pull it up to your own lips, kissing where each knuckle is softly. When you look up, you see the stars glowing in his eyes, brighter than anytime you’ve ever seen them. 

Beomgyu sighs, eyes softening at the corners. “I guess the kiss in the play won’t matter anymore, hm?”

You lightly slug in him the shoulder, a love-filled smile playing on your lips. He smiles back in a similar manner, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Oh, and I guess this means you love me back, too.”

People fill and mingle around the diner, looking for an open seat among the crowds of customers. And older couple swoops in as soon as you vacate the booth, not even caring that your dirty dishes were still neatly stacked at the edge awaiting pick up. But you didn’t mind. You push through the doors to wait outside while Beomgyu paid. Even though there’s a small crowd at the counter, you knew exactly which one he was. Beomgyu wore his light blue jacket, the one that accentuated all his features nicely. You’d have to make sure that whatever Beomgyu-sized scarf you bought matched that jacket. He needed to wear it as often as possible.

The first official date was almost over, but you knew there would be many more to come. 

Once he’s finished paying, Beomgyu makes a beeline for the door, carefully navigating around all the people crowding the entryway. “Is it always this busy?” you ask when he rejoins you.

Beomgyu shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. But knowing you, the most gorgeous person ever alive, would be there waiting for me was very motivational.”

You do little to hid your smile.

He takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers as if it were second nature. Maybe, it was, and you two had just been trying to ignore it. This walk from the diner back to your apartment had been done countless times before, but this one is special. And now, you think, it really is your apartment. 

Beomgyu starts to casually rub gentle circles onto your skin with his thumb. “It’s the perfect kind of weather for me to take off my jacket and give it to you to keep you warm, you know.” He then takes a deep sigh and throws his head back. His next words come out playfully clipped. “But, someone had to be smart and wear their jacket.”

“Well, you’re not dating a fool,” you chuckle. When you notice Beomgyu pouting, eyes downcast away from you, you laugh again and poke him in the shoulder to get his attention. “Thank you anyway, Beomgyu, for always thinking of me.”

He turns back to you, all smiles. “Darling, I don’t think I could stop thinking of you even if I tried.”

“Ew, gross.” You laugh, white curls of breath forming in front of you. But, unlike last time, there is no cold or ice in sight. No dark thoughts and doubts plague you tonight. You’re delightfully warm and happy.

“Ew, gross yourself,” Beomgyu mimics, throwing his tone to match yours. “I’m cold too, by the way. So I guess thanks for thinking of me by thinking of yourself. God, you’re like the smartest person ever.”

As the walk home continues, so does the conversation. "Our parents seemed pretty happy when we told them, huh?" Beomgyu mentions, a smile playing at his lips.

“Maybe they planned it,” you muse. “Maybe the director was in on it. They wrote it all together because they decided it was now or never.”

Laughter fills the air, and even in the dark spots between the lampposts are filled with light.

You nudge your shoulder into Beomgyu’s, garnering his attention. “Can I ask you a question?” When he nods, eager to hear what you have to say, you continue. “Why did you throw your lunch on me that day in seventh grade?”

“That was an honest mistake!” he exclaims, eyes filled with desperate honesty. The blush along his cheeks as he looks away is readily apparent. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with sincerity. “But sitting next to you on audition day wasn’t.”

A soft smile plays at the corner of your lips. “I’m glad I got there late, then.”

“Me, too.” A moment of silence falls between you, but it’s comfortable, like an overtly fluffy blanket made just for two. Afterward, Beomgyu is the first to speak again. “Okay, I’ve confessed something from our past that’s mildly embarrassing yet still endearing. Now it’s your turn.” He turns to you with a mischievous grin on his lips.  "’Fess up, darling."

It takes a small instant, before: “Oh! You know that time we stayed up all night and watched anime after that big project? When we woke up the next morning, even though you scared the hell out of me, I thought you were pretty cute.”

Beomgyu’s eyebrows quirk up, his grin grows wider. “Cute? Me? You thought I was cute?”

Pink blush rushes to your cheeks before you smack him on the shoulder. You drop his hand and quicken your pace. “You were cute, you’re not anymore.”

Beomgyu races to catch up with you, takes your hand again, and bumps into your shoulder gently. “Of course I’m not cute anymore. I’m handsome.”

You make a fake gag. “Oh, please!” There’s no sense of lightness when you shove his shoulder.

“Hey, now,” he says, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand, another fake pout on his lips. “Be nice to your boyfriend.”

You scoff. “Is that what you are now?”

“What else would I be? More than friends but not a boyfriend…” Beomgyu’s eyes brighten as he lets go of your hand and snaps his fingers. “Aha! Your husband!”

You shove him with two hands this time. The idea of being with him like that is overwhelming to the max. “Fine, you’re my boyfriend, then.” The word feels foreign on your tongue, but you can easily imagine them growing comfortable. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. Your Beomgyu.

He slings his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close as your apartment slowly grows larger in the distance.  He leans his head over and rests it gently on yours. “I guess I lied,” he mutters, and you pull back confused even with his eyes on you, rich and loving. “I told you the play wouldn’t change things between us.”

A smile slowly spreads across your face. “But... we changed in a good way, right?”

Beomgyu answers you with a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, caressing your shoulders kindly and pulling you just a little closer. “Yeah, we changed in a good way.”

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #txt fluff #txt headcanons #txt scanarios #txt imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu headcanons #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #fluff #angst #scarios #imagines #all #prose #txt

[mayaflowerxs]

omgg hii! i'd like to request a fic of Jeno (similar to jaemin's Crazy In Love) but i wanna have the fic sweeter and cuter, as in jeno's really and deeply in love with y/n and that he always shamelessly shows how clingy he is around y/n and would do anything in the world just for her 🥺

(i wouldn't mind a little bit of romantic smut between Jeno & y/n too 🤭)

FAILED CONFESSIONS

Synopsis: The five times Jeno failed to confess & ask you out and the one time he finally found the courage. Or, in which Jeno embarrasses himself multiple times until he finally manages to do things right.

Warning: Fluff / Humor / Smut. Swear word usage, softdom!Jeno, oral + creampie, it’s on the more cliche side so beware! She fell first he fell harder trope. Idol life!

Pairing: Jeno x fem reader

1. WHEN HE WAS 8

The day you saw Jeno was at work. As a cashier, you see faces every second of every hour and unfortunately for him you wouldn’t recognize him again after that day. At least that’s what he thinks. Jeno’s used to the attention, to girls fawning over him and guys wanting to be his friends. He’s popular, aura of his is very enticing but not for you. Maybe it was because you had currently been running an eight hour shift, on the busiest day of the week and the store lacked cashiers but it seemed the tables have turned the second you ringed his group of friends.

Rowdy and in their own world, the friend group continues to have their conversation of god knows what. And it wasn’t until you asked what sort of payment will be made did he turn to face you. He’s not spiritual, not into astrology nor psychology or any of that sort of thing and yet, in that moment he wanted to asks all sorts of questions. Like how is it, that you managed to get him starstruck by merely being in his presence. Frozen in place, hands becoming clammy, throat clenching and hand half way through his pocket and fidgeting with his sleeve. His brain practically reboots until he’s able to move again. “Oh sorry, um..how much?” He asks shyly, mentally scolding himself as he tries to avoid as much eye contact.

And even though you didn’t notice the flustered state the boy in front of you was in, he felt as if you did. There’s no way you didn’t notice the nervous gulp and the struggle to take out his credit card. There’s no way you didn’t notice the way his friends began to snicker the second they realized how he got because of you. But as he swipes the card and you hand him the receipt with a quick, ‘have a good day’ he slightly wished you did notice him.

Jeno wasn’t one to waste time. Any girl he liked he was quick to ask out and yet as he grabbed all the bags, not wanting the others to help carry and slightly wanting to impress you: he walked off as quickly as he could. Forgetting about his credit card, “Your credit card!” You say and hand it out to him. A tight lipped smile, he nods and grabs it. Uttering a low thanks he was sure you didn’t even hear. Shutting his eyes momentarily and walking out of the store he scolded himself all the way to the parking lot. Throwing the bags inside and getting in, he waited for the moment in which his friends would give him hell. And when they do arrive, as expected they dived right in.

The car erupted in chaos, he felt their hands shaking him as they cooed. Jokes and laughs were made, teasing from Chenle and Haechan and squeals from Mark. He wanted to punch every single one of them. He didn’t want to be reminded of how much he acted like a fool. He didn’t want to be reminded that no matter how much he physically changed he’s still the same eight year old dork that struggled to ask you out all those years ago. A single rose in hand with a box of chocolates. Propping his glasses up the bridge of your nose as he tried to steady his breathing. You’ve been his long time crush since preschool, way before he even understood what feelings were. His best friend Jaemin at his side reminding him everything will work out. That you would say yes, he spent the day before rehearsing what’d he say. How he’d approach you, would it be in front of everyone? Would he ask you to meet him behind a tree?

During the first and second grade, he grew just the tiniest bit of confidence to talk to you but for the most part still too shy. The most he ever spoke to you was to ask you to pass him the glue. Spending most of his time admiring you from afar and when he decided he’d ask you to be his girlfriend, Jaemin was ecstatic for him. Taking him to the nearest store where he spent too much time trying to find the right rose and box of chocolates. All just for it to never be received by you. The next day came and as he walked past the gates of the school he noticed the slight sadness in his best friends eyes. “I’m sorry.”

But he couldn’t pay much mind to him. Only a few yards away from the two of them, were you and your first ever boyfriend Shotaro. A transfer from Japan and even though he only knew a few sentences the two of you quickly hit it off. Close to the hip, Jeno should’ve seen this coming. Of course he noticed how good friends you two became and yet he was dumb to think he wouldn’t ask you out. Of course he would, you’re pretty, kind, funny and sassy. All that he likes about you. And so feeling disheartened, he throws the rose into the trash can and gives Jaemin the chocolates. Ever since that day, he’s only liked you from afar. He thought as the time went on he’d forget about this ‘silly’ crush on you but that would be far from the truth.

Which is why, as he currently sits in the car. Running a frustrated hand through his hair and contemplates on what he should do. This would be the first time seeing you after high school, and yet just as he thought he moved on. BAM! Did all those jitters come flying back into the deepest pit of his stomach. I guess he hasn’t actually moved on then.

2. WHEN IN THE 6TH GRADE

The class was switching seats. And as comfortable as the students were, a part dreaded this day but others didn’t. No, others were excited, others were Jeno. As his teacher walked past each desk, one by one and calling out a name his heart only increased in beats. Inhaling sharply, fingers slightly crossed as he hoped his and your name would be called. Not even caring if he got to sit in the back of the class or not.

“Y/n.” His heart skipped a beat, watching as you send a sad smile to your friend and walk over to your new seat. At the front, left corner. Furthest from the teacher and back facing the cubbies. And the desk right in front of her, the teacher hits with her pen and reads the name. “Jeno.” Hearing his friends pat his back and tease him for having to sit in the front he pretends to look sad but doesn’t waste time to go to his new spot. A miracle it was, a blessing his teacher gave him for seating him so close to you. In front of you where he only mostly sees you. And as he sits down, he feels the familiar tightness in his throat appear. His hands becoming clammy and fingers fidgeting with his sleeves. Your eyes momentarily glanced at him and sent a quick smile before looking past him and stare at your friend. As pathetic as it was, he froze. Mind spiraling as he replays the short smile you sent him. You never smiled at him, of course you smiled before but usually it’s because of your happy state but this. This was voluntarily only for him. Not for a group of people or the situation. Only for him, and even though he shouldn’t think much he can’t help but smile idiotically at himself about it.

During the time he sat in front of you, he made it his mission to get you to smile more, and if lucky, make you laugh. So, purposely he began to make dumb decisions, crack jokes and when he notices the slight curve on your face he knew he was heading into the right direction. Letting you in on the pranks he was about to pull on his friends and feeling joyous when you helped him. Accidentally getting glue on his hair, red in the face but liked when you began to giggle and help take it out of him. With you so close and smelling your vanilla perfume, he tenses and panicked to look anywhere but you. Asking for help even when he didn’t need it with the excuse that you’re the smartest of the class, which you were. He made himself seem like the class clown who had not a single clue as to how to do his work. And even though he got in trouble a lot, he felt happy to know it was getting your attention. So much, you spoke to him every chance you got.

It almost seemed like everything was finally going right for him. You and Shotaro had broken up a while ago, and the only other boy you dated was the class clown Yangyang in the fifth grade. And as jealous he got, Jeno tried his hardest to not come to resent him because he knew he was a good kid. But his hopes were back, you were single. He’s been single even when it’s been made obvious many of the girls especially the popular ones have had a crush on him. He was feeling optimistic and so during lunch, he finds a way to sit by you every time. Even if he had to cut people to stand behind you in line, and during recess he insisted his and your friend group played a game together even when the two had different interests. But it’s not like he cares if his friends wanted to play soccer and yours wanted to play in the bark box. He only looked at you and waited to see what you had to say. And whatever you choice was even if it was to do jump rope which he was miserably bad at or sit at the bench under the blazing sun, he agreed instantly.

Valentines Day was nearing. Which meant grams were around the corner. A time in which anyone can buy someone else a piece of candy with a note on it. Whether it’d be anonymous or not but Jeno was feeling brave. This could be his time to ask you out, to confess his feelings and so with his 25 cents in hand. He waits patiently in line, and as he goes to fill out the note he overhears some of the other boys discussing who’d they be sending their candy grams to. And when he hears your name, he feels his heart drop. “Me too!” “No way! I said her name first!” “Yeah well I like her too!” “Who says she’ll pick you?” Whatever hope Jeno had that you’d accept to be his girlfriend fell down the drain. Those boys were much more taller than him, bigger. You would never go for a scrawny kid like him. And so, without his name written on there he simply writes, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’ And when the day comes where the names are read, he watches sadly as you get over ten grams from your friends and admirers. Slightly smiling fondly at you for the way your eyes brighten at all the times your name was called.

Dejected that when you said yes to a confession on one of the Valentine grams, it wasn’t his.

3. WHEN IN MIDDLE SCHOOL

Seventh grade by far was the most thrilling year ever. A new school meant new environment, teachers, and classmates. The size of peers doubled and as Jeno made new friends so did you. At some point he managed to move on from you, just a little though. He made tons of new friends but those that sticked were a Canadian kid named Mark and a bratty kid named Haechan. Now enrolled in a soccer team, his clique grew from four friends to almost a class full. His popularity grew as well, his hair was freshly cut. He figured new school new look, clothes were newer and of popular expensive brand. Shoes nice and shiny and backpack a plain black Jansport because that’s was all popular kids wear. Not only that, but more girls were after him. Rumors were spreading like hell fire with more kids along with the gossip so any girl got a crush on him, he’d know within a day notice.

But after the long list of girls liking him, none of the names were ever yours. His attention was drifted off from you for a while, until he saw you show up to one of his games. When he notices you on the bleachers he can’t help but freeze. Why were you here? Do you like sports? Was it because it was tournaments? Were you here for somebody? Dating someone in the team? Oh god hopefully not. And as he tried his hardest to focus, he felt his hands getting clammy again. Just knowing you’re watching, maybe not exactly at him but in general had him feeling extremely nervous. What if he messes up and makes a fool out of himself? Then again it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. And when the game ends and luckily winning, his eyes aren’t on his coach nor his teammates. Not even the medal he gets, no his eyes are focused on tracking you. And when he spots you he felt relieved to know you weren’t here because one of the guys were dating you. On the contrary, your friend was dating one of the players, the goalie actually.

And with an excuse in thought. He walks over to you three. “Hey.” He managed to get out without his voice shaking. “Hi!” Your friend greets, a slight nod from you which kinda saddens him. So long since the two of you properly spoke it almost seemed like you two were strangers. But he wanted to speak to you again, which is why when he had a moment with his goalie he demanded he’d bring them any chance he got. Even when no game was going on, “You have to bring them.” “Them?” “Yes, your girlfriend and y/n.” But he didn’t leave any spot for questions, sternly giving him a look he simply nods and obliges. And so, little by little does he get close to you again. So much, rumors have begun to spread. Were the two of you dating? Were there any feelings involved? And even though Jeno only laughed it off, he looked at you expectantly, hopefully. Only smiling off the sting when you simply shake your head. Not even changing his appearance did you have any interest in him.

A dance was nearing, and Jeno thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to ask you out. And this time, he had your friends support. Making sure to get you to not accept any one else’s request and even asking you frequently about Jeno. And when she assured him you’d agree if he asked you, he took the leap again. Only this time, he was successful. You agreed! Overjoyed and also embarrassed by the way he was a stuttering mess and there managed to be a crowd when he asked you. He couldn’t stop smiling from ear to ear. Shyly grabbing your hand and walking you away from the crowd, forgetting that he only asked you to the dance and not to date. So with an awkward chuckle, he lets go. When the night did come, he couldn’t stop pacing. One of the first to arrive despite his friends protests but he didn’t care. Standing by a table he watched as more and more walked through the door, his anxiety doubling as the time went on and no sign of you. But when you finally did, hair down and a part of it up. A nice flowy dress and flats to match it, your smile bright and gradient he felt himself grow weak in the knees.

He dreamed of this very moment and now that it’s here, what should he do next? He only wished to ask you out and never what to actually do when you said yes. With a slight shove from his friends, he sends them a glare and walks over to you. Awkward and ears and cheeks red the two of you dance to a slow song. The disco ball shines above you two and it seems like time stops. Taking in your beauty, Jeno can feel his heart beat in his ears. Taking another gulp to moisten his dry throat. Holding your hand gently and praying they won’t start to sweat. The proximity made him feel fuzzy inside. His other hand on your waist he tries to resist himself in pulling you in a hug. To hold you tight and call you his. To not lean in and kiss your rosey pink lips. For most of the night he had fun with you, so much fun he couldn’t stop smiling like a doofus. Like a little girl did he speak how he felt to his friends, “I think I’m asking her tonight.” And as the supportive friends they are, they patted him in the back and wished him good luck.

So he searched for you, and then wished he didn’t. He couldn’t believe his luck. Eric Sohn, another popular kiddo not really close friends with and he too is a soccer player. Just not in his team. And this same Eric was currently dancing with you on the dance floor to another slow song that began to play. And even though he couldn’t hear what you two were talking about, he knew what was asked the second he saw you nod your head excessively and the group of kids around you began to awe. Truly, he couldn’t catch a break.

4. WHEN YOU TUTORED EACH OTHER

“Can everyone be quiet please?” Jeno snaps, finally gaining some peace in the car. “She doesn’t even remember me so can we please just get going?” Jeno didn’t want to admit what he was feeling was getting the best of him. And it wasn’t fair to take it out on his friends but he just wanted to leave already. To hide in his room and sleep away the image of you. He successfully did it for a few years, surely he can do it some more. But the ignition hasn’t started, and it’s gotten eerily quiet. So much he can practically read his friends thoughts. “What?” He asks monotonously, “You should go talk to her.” “No.” With an exasperated sigh Haechan groans and begins to whine. “C’mon Jeno it’s obvious you still like her.” “Ok and? Doesn’t mean she likes me, I mean she doesn’t even remember me.” He huffs.

Just to think you didn’t even recognize him was only making him more upset and sad. All these years and nothing? Maybe you had short term memory loss or something. There was no way you didn’t remember him, I mean throughout the years the two of you spent some good time together. Making some memorable memories, were they not as meaningful to you as it was to him? Freshman year and at the brink of failing his English class, top of your class and was asked if you could give him a hand. And as the sweetheart you are, you agreed. He still remembers how his throat closed up on him when he saw you enter. He immediately stopped slouching and pulled back a chair for you. Organizing his stuff so there’d be space for you. The first few times were quiet as he felt embarrassed by how bad he was at it.

But then he realized you weren’t so perfect either, you struggled in Math. And he was great in that subject. And so for a fair trade you began tutoring each other. Either at school, before or during lunch, after school at his or your house. At times the two of you got distracted and began having random conversations and playful banter. Watching movies and even staying for dinner. The two of you got so close, you even shared your first kiss together. But it was an accident, at least the first time. Jeno wanted to teach you a dance move and when he encouraged you to try, your socks caused you to slip. Instincts kicked in and before he knew it, he was quick to grab you only to fall alongside you. Falling on top of you and lips planting full smash on yours, a shocked pause occurred. Not a muscle was moved and it seemed like the two of you were afraid to make the next move. By the next time you tutored there was some awkwardness but mostly tension.

And when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and came back to him standing up to stretch, he came face to face with you. Merely an inch away and as the two of you struggled to not look at each other’s eyes or lips, you two shared similar thoughts. You’d lean in and kiss again. He felt overwhelmed with emotions. He can’t exactly decipher what he’s feeling, the wonder of what your lips would feel like and here he is kissing them again only this time for real. Kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Leading you to your bed, ignoring the loud crunches your papers made. Sighing happily when you run your hand through his hair and pull away to take a breather before leaning back in for more. House with no parents, the two of you spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s arms.

That night, you took each other’s virginities.

The purity ring he once wore now dangled around your neck. Luckily your parents didn’t know what that was and assumed it was yours, but Jeno wasn’t so fortunate. He got grounded, berated and shamed. How someone so young could be causing such reckless behavior but at this point in time he was in too deep. He felt this way for a while but never acknowledged it but he knows now. And despite his parents saying he’s too young to know what he’s truly feeling he knew it was real. He knew his love for you wasn’t all in his head. And he certainly knew, he didn’t regret giving you his v-card. Something no one knew, not his best friend or anyone else except you and his parents. It was a shock when he gave you his ring, you assumed he’s been without his virginity and to know you weren’t the only one that lost it, you confessed to him the truth. Guilty, he looks down shamefully. “I should’ve known, I’m sorry it should’ve been special.” “But it was.” Cupping his face and lifting his head to look at you, you can see the twinkle in his eyes the second he glanced at you.

You notice how his pupils dilate and the puppy eyes take form, how at ease he gets and his hands itching to touch you. Yearning for your comfort. “I’m glad it was you that took it, wouldn’t want any one else.” You mumble and close in on his lips.

Leg bouncing as Jeno waits impatiently for Mark to start driving off he rubs the inch on his skin, his shirt slightly reveals his abdomen. The black and red ink apparent As it rests neatly above his v line, a tattoo of a stem with two cherries. A date on it with initials. Your initials. To symbolize the day he popped your cherry, a day he’s never forgotten.

“Well I’m sure she was just too tired, it’s busy in there. You should at least think about coming by some other time and getting in touch with her.” Renjun tries to convince but he and the others can tell their friend has already begun to think about all his memories of you. Even the hurtful ones. Like when he prepared to ask you out with a poster and a bouquet of flowers. The two of you were practically inseparable, already acting like a couple no way it can go wrong. But it did, horribly. He convinced you to meet him out on the track, where he thought he would be able to get some alone time with you but that wouldn’t happen when the kids from p.e would be using it for their run day. Jeno should’ve specified, he should’ve made sure it was clear when he gave some of his classmates each a rose to give to you. A trail until you found your way towards him, but not a single rose was given to you. No instead, to a completely different a girl. The popular girl who’s been heavily crushing on him since the 7th grade and never had her feelings reciprocated.

More and more students piled up, a crowd forming and as she made her way down to the last rose Jeno felt his insides fill with anxiety. Still completely unaware that the person nearing wasn’t you. The horror to see the crowd part way not for you but for her. A bouquet of roses in hand as she read the poster he had in his hands. Phones out, video recording and whispers of encouragement. And when she shrieks and shakes her head. The crowd went wild, clapping and whistling for the new couple. And as he stood there mortified with the chick’s arms wrapped around his neck he grew oblivious to you who merely stood a few feet away. Heart broken and hopes destroyed, feeling stupid for thinking he’d ask you to be his. To think that night meant a lot to him just as it did to you. So that’s why he invited you, you assumed. So that you could see how he’d prove to you that day meant nothing to him, and how easily replaceable you were. So with a broken heart, you turned around swiftly and wiped off the tears from your cheeks. A new profound hatred for him.

5. WHEN HE SAW YOU CRYING

For two years you went ignoring his very existence. A senior, your last and final year before leaving grade school. One more year before leaving the city behind, your childhood home and moving on somewhere far away. A new start for you. During those two years, you had tried to do your best with getting by but your hatred for the school increased. You grew to hate the homework, the teachers, the peers, everything about it brought wrath. The idea of having to go made you want to cry and only thinking about having to wake up and attend had you stressing. You didn’t know exactly what caused that switch but you had a hunch it was the day you cried over Lee Jeno. After the misunderstanding at the track he was quick to make it clear he wasn’t referring to her and even though he was met with a slap in the face and accusations of messing with her feelings, he didn’t care. His only focus was you and yet when he noticed your sudden coldness towards him it worried him tons. Avoiding him at all times, not responding to his text messages and even stopped the whole tutoring program.

You stopped going to his games and when his team mates girlfriend was around, you were no longer with her. It hurt him to know how easily he lost you, so close. So close and yet you had managed to slip through his fingers again. And even though you tried to prevent crossing paths with him, it seemed like that wasn’t his intentions. No he searched for him, purposely walking past your class to run into you. And during lunch where you’d stay in the library, he would too. Sitting from afar but looking after you. And the times you met eyes, he would send you a soft smile only to falter when you immediately looked away. To say his heart didn’t sting would be a lie, he could no longer focus during practice. The gym wasn’t doing much to keep himself from thinking about you and at night when alone with his thoughts, all he can reminisce about are the days he spent with you. Trailing over his finger and feeling the emptiness of his ring, it had him thinking. Did you still have it? Did you throw it away? He couldn’t dare check, worried his heart wouldn’t know how to deal with the pain of you tossing his ring. Not when it held so much value of what took place for him to give it to you.

For two whole years he was left in the dark. Did you see what happened? You must have, he asked you to be there. By the next day it seemed like the whole school found out about it even more when the videos went around. He wished he could explain to you it was all a big mistake. And yet, he was a coward. Tail tucked between his legs, he hid in a corner and bowed down because he was afraid of confrontation. Of the possibility of you rejecting him even after explaining he only has eyes for you. That he only loves you. And with that in mind, everything began to slowly slip. His grades, his social bar, his ambitions. He quit soccer despite all those who tried to get him to stay. He started turning in lots of late assignments and most times, never even bothered to do them. He found his way into drinking most weekends, and smoking in the empty parking lot. His mood definitely dampened over time. No longer in the mood to go have fun, only shakes his head No and goes home where he’d lock himself in his room for the rest of the day. He began getting into situationships, and as messy as it got he didn’t stop.

Eventually it’s how he got his playboy reputation. Always seen with a new chick by his side and when he was no longer interested, he tossed them aside. You on the other hand managed to move on, you found yourself a new guy. And for those two years, you dated. Many saw how serious you quickly got with him, complimenting how well the two of you were for each other. Made for each other. Just the sentence itself had Jeno rolling his eyes. Party after party, it’s all he ever hears the second while there: your boyfriend waltzed in. It seemed like only he knew how fake your ‘lovely’ boyfriend was being. How he enjoyed the attention he gained from girls, how he simultaneously flirted back with them. How his sweet boy demeanor changed the second you left and spoke vile about women like they were objects. A toy, and even though Jeno had no place to talk he felt enraged to hear the son of a bitch speak about you so lowly. You weren’t his, ‘bitch’ you’re his girlfriend not a dog. You’re not meant to be a distraction instead a human he should love and cherish. And as much as he wishes to punch the living shit out of him, he refrained from doing so. He was no longer in your life, he shouldn’t be getting involved in your business.

But when you cried that night. The night of one of the regular parties that happened on Saturday’s. When he was shocked to see you enter. You’ve always hated parties he knows that because you told him. And yet here you were, walking in completely lost and uncomfortable. Tugging your thin sweater closer to you as you’re in search for your boyfriend. His eyes trailed your every move and when he sees you go upstairs, he’s about to make his way after you but is stopped by a manicured hand. Feeling their other hand come behind his head and avert his attention. Pushing him up against the counter but his focus wasn’t on her. Even when she began to brush herself on him, he continued to divert his eyes over to the stairs. And when he suddenly sees you coming down and push through the crowd of bodies hurriedly and a hand over your face, he knew you saw something you wish you didn’t. Quick to brush off the random chick, he goes after you. Demanding the annoying people standing in the middle of the room to get out of his way and when he finally catches up to you outside, his heart breaks upon hearing your small sniffles.

“Y/n…” you heard his voice but this only caused you to look away pathetically. Feeling embarrassed that he’s seeing you in such a vulnerable state. Humiliated that you fell for your ex’s tricks and had to find out the hard way that he was just a pig like every guy in high school. “Go away.” You get out with a croak in your voice. But he didn’t, no he stayed. He sat besides you on the steps and stayed silent as he watched you with sad eyes. “Stop pitying me.” “I don’t.” Scoffing, you wipe your eyes and roll them afterwards. “Of course you do, I’m crying over a guy who used me. Who cheated on me. I was just another chick he used, just like what you do.” A sting to his chest, he felt himself sobering up quickly. You weren’t wrong, you look down at his appearance he has changed vastly. Wearing almost all black, and clothes reeking of nicotine. Mouth smelling like beer and hair oily for the lack of regular washing. “I may not be the guy who should say this but, you deserve better. And I’m sorry that dirtbag couldn’t see how good he had it with you. That he made you cry.” He softens his eyes the second you turn to meet his. For the first time in two years his face was no longer cold stone. He wasn’t miserable or serious, he was at ease and a boy in love. A boy who silently begged for you to love him back.

“I’m sorry I made you cry.” His voice broke letting that out. The memory of seeing a small tear fall from the corner of your eye when the two of you met eyes from across the library. Right before you looked away. The last time you’d look at him for the next two years. Hands balled at his sleeves, his throat begins to tighten up, picking at his nails as he continued to stare into your orbs. Worried if he did anything else he’d break down. When he sees you let out a light chuckle, you wipe your tears away and dig something from under your shirt. Surprised when he sees the familiar silver ring, his purity ring. “Can you believe i still have it?” At loss for words, he averts his eyes from the ring to you again. “I thought the day you asked me to meet you at the track would be the day you’d ask me to be your girlfriend..” you chuckle hurtly at the memory. He could say something, right now. He should say something, but nothing comes out. So he waits for you to talk again, and hopefully he’ll find the courage while you do.

“But I was delusional, so I left. Because it was the only way I can move on. From you, from the hurt I felt. I thought getting into a relationship would help me do that but instead it only led me down to a path filled with more pain.” “Y/n…” he said desperately but you only shaked your head. “It’s okay.” You smiled softly at him. “I was wrong, and I moved on.” No, please don’t move on. Standing, you wipe off any dirt on your jeans and fixed your hair. “Think it’s best I never let another man in my life again. Love sucks anyways right?” Silent, he only nods merely just to agree with you. But it’s not what he’s thinking. Despite the pain he still wants to feel love. He still wants to love you and still does. No love doesn’t suck because despite it never going his way, he’s never regretted the special moments he shared with you.

About to leave, he stands and grabs your hand. “Y/n please wait-“ “Jeno!” He hears the high pitched voice call out to him. Raising a brow, you nod over to her. “Someone’s waiting for you mr. hotshot.” Shaking his head, he keeps a firm grip on your wrist and doesn’t bother looking back. “Please don’t go.” He pleads. “There’s nothing for me here-“ “Me. I’m here.” Stepping closer to you, he towers over you. A growth spurt that made him a good inches taller than you. “Funny, good to know you haven’t changed entirely.” Before he gets to explain that he isn’t joking, he gets pull roughly. Turned around and is met with the irritation on the girls face. “What the hell?! You’re supposed to be here with me and I find you outside with some chick?” “She’s not some chick!” Eyes widening, she scoffs and shakes her head. “So what is she your girlfriend now?” She asks sarcastically.

“So what if she was?” Surprised, she drops the attitude and huffs. “What?” Nodding, he feels all those sealed feelings begin to boil up. “You heard me.” Snickering she shakes her head. “C’mon Jeno who are you kidding, you don’t date. You only kiss and hook up-“ “Yes because I had no other choice given it was the only way to bury my feelings for her alright!” Shocked, she’s at loss for words. “That I’ve loved her since the first grade and nothing ever seems to go right because I only ever end up pushing her away and I can’t eat, think, sleep right because she’s always on my mind 24/7 and hooking up with nuisances like you was the only way I could temporarily forget about her. But that didn’t work because now I’m here potentially going to lose her indefinitely because you won’t stop cutting me off when I’m on the brink of confessing my feelings towards her and to finally ask her the question I’ve been dying to ask since I was 8 and that’s if she’ll do me the honors to be my girlfriend!”

An eery silence had consumed around him. Only the faint sound of grasshoppers and the beat of the music coming from inside the house. But it wasn’t until a voice broke it, did he feel the blood in him run cold. “What?” Forgetting you were there the whole time, he tenses up. Turning around slowly where he sees you standing there confused and surprised. His brain seemed to go blank, struggling to find the right words and when he watched you run off he could feel his heart shatter into a million pieces. So you really didn’t feel anything towards him anymore. He assumed. Brushing past the chick standing there awkwardly, he goes inside for a much needed drink. Grabbing the first bottle of vodka and downs a sip. He drinks, and drinks until the music only become sounds to him and he lost himself through the crowd. And even though he struggled to even piece together a coherent sentence, he seemed to sober up enough the second he finds your ex coming down the stairs with a girl in his arms. A smug look on his face, a hickey on his neck with her lipstick on his lips. This pissed him off, how could he be such an idiot to lose a gem like you. To ever think to hurt you. He saw red, he no longer cared what his friends had to say. Even when Jaemin and Renjun tried to get him to sit down and cool off he only shrugged them off.

He went straight towards the guy who hurt you. Roughly pulling him back by his shoulder, only a short hey escapes his mouth before receiving a hard punch to the jaw. That night, Jeno made his first ever felony and ended up behind bars for the night.

“Please just drive.” Jeno tells Mark and with a reluctant nod, he turns on the ignition and drives home. On the way there, Jeno was left with his thoughts. Silently begging to think of something else but all that flashes through his head is the taste of your lips. Your adorable smile, the contagious laugh and the warmth of your embrace. A single tear falls down his cheek and quickly wiped it. Even after all these years, when you ran away and never spoke to him again. When you didn’t even graduate at the same school and instead moved away, when he stopped seeing you entirely. After all that time, he’s still in love with you. Because as many came and gone, none managed to fill the void that occurred when you left. None could make him smile the way you did, laugh they way you did, love the way you did. And even when you feign to not remember him, he remembers you. And while you may have already forgotten about him, he didn’t because he never did. He loves you, so so much and it hurts.

6. WHEN HE SHOWED UP AT YOUR HOUSE

Seeing him after all those years felt like a time relapse. After a stressful shift, you were ready to clock off. Ready to tell whoever began to pile their stuff at your register to find somewhere else to pay but when you saw him. It’s like you couldn’t utter a single word. Your heart felt like it ran a 100 mph, you felt yourself heating up and breathing getting heavier. Would be recognize you? It has been almost six years since high school but you hadn’t change a lot, of course you matured but anyone who knew you would recognize you. And Jeno, he still looked the same other than his hair was now dyed and he was buffer. Jaw more chiseled. But it was him, it was the same Jeno. Your Jeno. And when you asked how they’d like to pay you made an effort to not look in his direction even making sure to have asked one of the other guys. Too anxious to meet him face to face, but he was the one who paid. The one who looked up at you, he recognized you. The way his cheery self butchered the second he saw you. How quiet he got, but you feigned ignorance. Pretended you didn’t remember him and only hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions.

You should’ve felt glad he didn’t, but you weren’t. And when you watched him quickly walk off leaving behind his card you made the impulsive act to call out for him. Finally looking at him, you couldn’t read his facial expression. He seemed, conflicted. And when he had since left, you were left alone with your thoughts. Making your way to the locker room where you would think back to all the memories you had with the man. You tried to move on from him, pretend he no longer existed and you thought you were doing a good job at it. But all those repressed emotions were hitting the surface, by the time you were headed off home you never would’ve known to prepare yourself to find the very man standing outside your doorstep. Head down with AirPods in, arms rested on his knees and he doesn’t look up until your headlights shine on him. Nervous and anxious, he’s quick to stand on his feet and play with the hem of his hoodie. Eyes widen when you get out, taking so careful steps towards him. There’s silence, and it seems like the two of you don’t know how to begin a part of Jeno is beginning to regret finding your address. Maybe you truly did forget about him and now thinks he’s some stalker waiting for you to come home.

“Jeno.” You say softly.

So soft and yet he still heard it. Heart rate jumping and throat closing in on himself. “How did you know I lived here?” A nervous chuckle, he cheeks become a light shade of pink. Balancing his weight on either leg, “Im friends with one of your old classmate buddy, she uh told me where to find you.” Ah, the very one who dated his teammate the goalie. “…So how you’ve been?” You ask after a moment of silence. But that’s not what he wanted to hear. At least not now, no he wanted to explain himself. Explain everything that went down years ago, ask you why you ran. Why you left. A part of him wanted to demand you some much needed explanations while the other wanted to break down and hold you tight. But he refrained himself from doing so, so instead he only nods and shrugs his shoulders. “Okay, I’m living life so that’s good.” “What are you doing here?” Chuckling, he looks around. “I’m still trying to figure that out myself.” A momentarily silence engulfs the two of you, staring at each other but the two of you begin to make quick steps closer to each other. Opening your arms and engulfing each other into your embrace. He hears you begin to cry, and to repress his he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I ran.” You manage to say out loud. “I’m sorry I made things worse.” A single tear falls from his eye, fisting his hands on your sweater and pulls your closer to him.

“No, I’m sorry I never made myself clear.” Pulling away, he cups your face. “I’ve liked you since the first grade, and as hard as I tried I failed. I failed to confess to you and when it was most important I messed that all up by making it seem like I was asking someone else when I wasn’t. I should’ve told you how I felt under better circumstances but I didn’t because I was filled with guilt and alcohol.” He sniffles and leans closer to your hand that’s raised to wipe the tears off his face. “I love you y/n, I’m sorry it took me more than ten years to tell you that. I’m sorry I was a coward and hurt you, and I’m sorry I’m too late.” He goes to move away from you but you don’t let go. Instead your grip on him tightens. “Why do you say you’re too late?” Unexpected by the question he stutters out an incoherent response. “I’ve always liked you Jeno.” Freezing, you smile at the confused state he’s in.

“You’ve always been oblivious haven’t you?” Feeling his cheeks warm up, he tugs the back of his hair and chuckles awkwardly. “I don’t- I’m not-“ “The only reason I’ve dated so much is to forget about you. I always wished you’d ask me to be your girlfriend. Always wished there was a chance you felt the same way, when the day I saw you and her…it hurt.” Feeling the guilt wash back up on him, he gently holds your hands. Rubbing soft circles on them nervous you’ll pull your hands away. “Which is why I cut you from my life.” Ouch. “But the night of the party, when you confessed your feelings about me, I didn’t know how to act. I couldn’t believe you liked me this whole time, I panicked and so I ran. I ran until I didn’t look back and it only made things worse.” Cupping your face, he tilts your head to face him. “I love you.” He says wholeheartedly.

“Ask me.” Raising a brow, you giggle and ask the question again. “What you’ve always wanted to tell me?” When the realization hit, he almost couldn’t believe it. Definitely not how he’d liked to ask you but he worries if he waited for the ideal moment then he’d never become yours. “Y/n…” he clears his throat. Hands beginning to sweat, “Will you be my girlfriend?” He hates how time seems to be passing by super slow. Every second is filled with dread, worry you’ll say no. Fear you’ll realize you don’t want this and reject him. But when he sees you grin and nod your head, a cheery yes all that worry is thrown right out the window. And instead, he picks you up and spins you around. “Yes?” He wants confirm, “Yes!” He didn’t ask your for hand in marriage and yet it still seems just as special. So much time went by, and just when he thought he’d never get the girl of his dreams. To confess his feelings, it did. Setting you down, he gives you no time to speak for he’s smashing his lips on top of yours.

Butterflies and fireworks go off, humming by the softness of your lips and your perfume hitting his nostrils. Like he just arrived in heaven, he’s ascending further the more he continues to kiss you. He loves it, loves the feeling so he deepens the kiss. Tilting his head, a hand behind your neck and pressing lips harder on yours. Moaning when coming in contact with your tongue. All his love and yearning for you has begun to spill through the kiss and it seems like you’re feeling the same. Feeling your hands pull him by his belt loops, walking forward until he leans you up against your car. He didn’t care who could potentially see, if anything he’d make it clear he’s now taken by the love of his life. The girl he’s been crushing on since the first grade, who has agreed to be his girlfriend. And when an elderly man walking his dog walk by and groan in disgust, he simply gives him a wink and presses his body on top of yours, in love with the whimper you let out. He wants to hear more of it, but he can’t push his limits. He just got you, he must be patient it’s the least he can do.

Pulling away to catch your breaths, he looks at you with a certain fondness. A smile on his face as he leans in and presses a kiss on your forehead, your cheek, temple and nose. “Mine.” He sighs contently on top of your lips before going back to kissing you. Spending another hour with you propped on your trunk and him nestled between your legs, lips locked onto yours. A perfect way to start your blossoming relationship.

Jeno hasn’t stopped showing his affection since you’ve said yes. Not caring what his friends had to say, even when they made kissy faces and poked fun at him for being so love sick. He loves expressing his love for you. It’s so obvious to everyone how much the man loves you, practically worships you. To every request you make, he obliges. With a simple plea and he’s on his knees for you. Dating for a few months and nothing has changed. Attached to your hip, he’s protective and caring. Helps with handing you things that’s too high for you, carries your purse and shopping bags. Moves the shopping cart as you grab the items. Brings in the grocery bags and refuses for you to carry any, opens doors for you and gives you pieces of his food with an excuse that he’s not that hungry. He cuddles you when he says he’s tired, cold, sick but really it’s excuses just so he can hold you. He nuzzles his face in your neck as a silent request to kiss him. Placing his head on your lap when he wants you to run your hand through his hair.

He even lets you dress him up, put crazy makeup on him and do any of the trends you see on Tiktok just to please you. So when his friends enter your home and sees you reapplying some of your lipstick meanwhile Jeno’s face is absolutely covered with your lip stains all over his face they point and laugh but he doesn’t care. A fuzzy hair band of yours pulling back his disheveled hair you fluffed up, and a loved up expression as he was reliving all the kisses you left on him merely a few minutes ago. As the time went on, his clinginess grew which meant more attention given. Such things like kisses and when those turned heated it would only be a matter of time before the two of you would have sex. But it hasn’t happened yet. That was until Jeno invited you to a dinner party, jaw dropped when he notices how gorgeous you looked. Hair and makeup done and the dress fitting so pretty on you. You look so good he couldn’t help but have you sit on his lap for most of the time, not trusting the strangers around you. Arms rested neatly on your lap, rubbing up and down your thighs. Biting his lip to hold back a groan when you moved too much.

A heated make out session in the bathroom ended in the two of you leaving sooner than the others. And when you arrived home, clothes were discarded until the two of you were bare for each other. The sheets over the two of you, dark room but the light of the moon shines through your window. Giving Jeno a perfectly view of you in pure bliss as he entered you. Quickened his pace after given the okay signal and pounded into you when you begged for more. Holding your hand that went to wrap around his neck and pressed reassuring kisses when he fucked you deeper. Arms resting in either side of your face, caging you in and lifting your leg to rest on his shoulder for better access. Leaning his hand down to run quick circles on your nub and asking if you were close. Softly kissing your face when you finally do come for him. “So pretty.” He mumbles and sets your leg down, only to be surprised when you flip him around. Sat neatly on top of him and having him through his head back and let out a loud groan when you sit on his dick. Grabbing your waist to steady you, he curses under his voice and admires how your breasts bounce when you do.

Pupils dilating even further when he stares at the base of his cock, how deep you take him. Loving how well his fits neatly inside you. Loving the way your warm walls tighten around him, in love when his tip makes a small dent on your lower abdomen and overall loving how well he’s pleasing you. So angelic, he wants to see you in this state for hours. And that’s exactly what he does. By morning, he’s calling in with no intentions of getting out of bed any time soon. Starting the fun from the previous night all over again. If possible he’s sure he’s fallen even more in love with you, and he was certain you were always meant for him.

So by the end of the year, he put a ring on your finger

#nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct smut #nct reactions #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream imagines #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct jeno #nct jeno imagines #nct jeno smut #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #jeno soft hours #jeno scenarios

[venusbby]

i just feel like being itoshi rin's bestfriend is a whole new experience.

there is something about being rin's closest person that brings you a feeling of warmth and pride altogether. knowing each other for years, you were aware that the mighty itoshi rin was selective when it came to people he wanted to spend time with. sure, he had many friends, he was a professional player after all- but even he can't help but admit that nobody could compare with you.

maybe it's because to him, you aren't really a friend at all.

you're much more.

and he definitely does not want to admit that. so he does not.

you, on the other hand, have a hard time trying to figure it all out. one part of you thought in a more simple way.

he's just closer with me because we've known each other for so long, that's all it is.

and then there's the other part of you that is greedy and aching and yearning to get some sort of sign that he's interested.

you're not expecting much. this is itoshi rin we're talking about. he just doesn't do any of that stuff. it's crazy that you're even thinking about the topic of dating when all these years you haven't heard a single word from him about having a simple crush on someone. but again, this is itoshi rin. he doesn't say the things he doesn't want to say. he doesn't show the feelings that he doesn't want to show.

you scolded yourself every year for not getting over your little crush on your bestfriend. unfortunately for you, it went on increasing until your heart was overflowing with care and adoration for a guy who seemed absolutely clueless about romance and the wildly trending best friends to lovers trope in almost every recent book or movie.

in your case, the best friends to lovers trope feels a little less sad because rin never really showed any interest in other people.

oh, little did you know. but you're still glad that the person writing your story didn't pour the cup full of jealousy into your life.

it's almost comical how stupid the both of you are.

a hopeless romantic and her hopelessly unaware bestfriend.

the stupidity goes for a few more months. sneaky glances, touches that feel like a spark, those short words of affection that rin manages when you're at the lowest and oh, the birthday.

the stupidity finally stops at rin's birthday.

ten minutes left to 12 AM. you were trying to drive as slowly and as patiently as you could to rin's apartment. arriving early would just ruin the surprise. you needed to get out of the car when there were just 8 minutes left, so that by the time you reached the high floor of the apartment complex it would leave you with 5 minutes to prepare yourself and the box of cake in your sweaty hands, waiting outside his door. then you would enter when there's just a minute left.

only rin deserved this type of difficult and serious planning.

you felt the pride for being able to think so much and felt extremely smart for calculating this plan accurately. however, the feelings were quick to drain out and be replaced by nervousness.

he wouldn't be mad, no. you just didn't want to make him feel awkward.

rin never really made a big deal about his birthdays. that never stopped him from letting his teammates and friends from blue lock enjoy the day, though. every year, he booked some place they could spend time, eat, drink, party, whatever. he didn't care much, just watched bachira and isagi wreck havoc. as long as he had you sitting next to him, laughing at his friends' antics, he was okay. he also liked seeing you happy. his chest bloomed with some unfamiliar feeling every time you said that you were happy because he was happy.

one minute left.

you quietly entered with the spare key rin had given you.

for emergencies.

somehow birthdays counted, right?

the lights were off, and you felt a little dumb. it would be really embarrassing if rin wasn't even home. maybe even more embarrassing if rin didn't expect you to come at all and told you to go back home or something.

from the living room, you could still see rays of faint warm light making its way into the hallways, escaping through the doorway of his bedroom. judging by the low sound effects, you guessed he was watching another movie or tv show.

one thing your dumbass forgot to plan. how the heck were you supposed to call him into the living room without scaring him?

fuck it, you thought.

"rin, im home, come out here please." you tried, trying your best to sound as less alerting as you could, hoping you didn't scare the guy. from the way the sound of the movie quickly stopped after your voice, you grimaced.

quick, heavy footsteps followed as itoshi rin entered his living room. his expression was a mix between a scowl and a frown- a face only he could make. you paused before you could even try to explain.

paired with the handsome, annoyed face was the absence of a shirt.

what were you going to say again?

well, it didn't matter. rin spoke before you could even adjust to the unfamiiar view.

"what the fuck."

"uh, look-" you managed.

"no, what the actual fuck."

you pursed your lips in an attempt to put your mind to work, to come up with something- anything. those teal eyes felt vibrant even in the darkness of the living room with just more of the golden light from his room passing through- because of the bedroom door now being opened all the way. you shifted from one foot to another. he continued to stare, his eyes slowly travelling down to the cake you were holding.

"happy birthday."

itoshi rin, your bestfriend, exhaled.

two strides and he was standing right in front of you, expression unreadable, and maybe you were hallucinating, because in the slight darkness you thought you saw him smile.

"y/n, you're insane." he breathed out, running a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. rin's face felt a little warm when he realized how he looked in this situation. this is by far the most out of pocket thing you've done, in his opinion.

for you though, this reaction was somewhat better than what you'd expected. you bit your lip to hold back a smile and set the box down on the neatly kept coffee table next to you. "i might be."

it was already three minutes past twelve. but you didn't care anymore.

while you carefully removed the cake out and placed it on the table, rin turned the lights on, still not recovered from your sudden appearance.

"shit," you realized when the brightness of the light hit your eyesight, "i forgot the fucking candles in the car. sorry."

now as unbelievable as it sounds, it was rin's turn to hold back a smile as he muttered quietly, "stupid."

it was even harder to focus on the cake without candles in front of you, when itoshi rin was sitting next to you on the couch, shirtless.

silence filled the room, and none of you made a move.

why would you do anything anyway? wasn't it rin's job to cut the cake?

apparently, you seemed more interesting than the cake, because rin was staring at you instead. you stuttered underneath his gaze. "what, you want me to sing the song for you?"

he huffed, attempting to fix his hair so he could stop thinking about your sleepy eyes. god damn it. he didn't know how to deal with this, with the erratic beating of his heart.

"thanks. for this."

itoshi rin was malfunctioning. and you were the cause for that.

to that, you managed a genuine smile. it was nice to hear.

"it's nothing. i did it because i care." you said quietly, fiddling with your fingers, eyes focused on the cake. you don't think you can handle looking at him. it might tempt you to pour out all your feelings. you could save them for another day, just not his birthday.

the mess of your hair kept together by a hairband, your heavy eyelids and the nervous fumbling of your fingers, rin knew you meant more. you wouldn't do so much for him despite being so tired if you just cared. there was only one option he had, to show you how thankful he was.

you're out of your short anxious trance when his bare, strong arms slowly but confidently pulled you into him.

the shock doesn't last for long and you find yourself melting in his embrace, face resting against his shoulder as your arms made their way to his back, to hold him tighter.

the cake must be satisfied with this outcome as well because it doesn't complain as you both stay in the same position for quite a few minutes.

rin felt your breath against his collarbone and sighed.

"stay the night. i can tell you're tired."

you don't deny it, but still whisper, "let's eat the cake first."

he finally let out a soft chuckle, feeling relieved that you couldn't see him as he mumbled something along the lines of "that's why i love you."

wait.

did he say love?

#itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi brothers #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock headcanons #blue lock manga #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n

[absolutebl]

I Cannot Reach You - Kimi ni wa Todokanai REVIEWED

This image perfectly captures how I feel about this show. You ready? I wasn't.

I Cannot Reach You

AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Japan 2023 - 8 eps 20 ea approx 2.5 hours

Themes, main tropes & archetypes: friends to lovers, tsundere/sunshine, self acceptance, self worth, high school BL, live action yaoi, soft romance, kindness

Rating? 10/10

Yeah, it happened again in 2023.

Adapted from a manga.

The moment I finished binging this show I was thinking about writing about it and re-watching it. This is a sure sign that I adored a piece of media. 

This is a wonderful BL.

Truly well executed, with smooth filming and lovely acting, both of a simplistic style that felt slightly more Korean than it did Japanese. It reminded me a little bit of Seven Days and a little bit of Takara and Amagi, and since these are my two favorite high school JBLs obviously I was bound to adore ICRY.

But what it reminded me of more than anything was Cherry Blossoms After Winter.

Odd for JBL and KBL to be so closely linked. 

Like CBAW show, ICRY is classic live action yaoi.

Like the MOST classic of CLASSIC.

All the JBL tropes. I mean look at that image above? It's rooftop assignation, kabedon, and a handhold ALL AT ONCE.

There was also multiple runnings of the gays, surprise kisses (one on a bridge), and shoulder leans.

There is even a “seme looses control to desire” scene which leads to dub con. There is an abject apology after but still - you’ve been warned. 

The premise is: smart sporty hot (and hella gay) Yamato has a long standing crush on his silly sunshine sweetheart bestie, Kakeru. Yamato is also stiff, self isolated, shy, and has only ever really managed to get along with Kakeru. I love this kind of pining seme so damn much, it probably biased me. 

Unlike most uke, Kakeru starts to slowly figure out that his best friend is in love with him by ep 2 (let the chaos bisexual identity crisis commence).

So do some of the friends around them.

The story thus revolves around Yamato trying to unsuccessfully suppress his desire, and Kakeru trying to figure out if he can return Yamato‘s affection.

This biggest barrier is actually Kakeru's feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness (when compared to Yamato). But this is tempered by his genuine kindness which forces him into act with integrity around his dear friend's love and strive to fix everything (even himself) to prove worthy of it - whether he can ultimately return it or not.

Kakeru's struggles are pitted against Yamato‘s repressed need that keeps bubbling over and figuratively (sometimes literally) attacking Kakeru with romantic, emotional, and physical intensity. 

Quick pitch:

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.

I’m not gonna lie, I dithered over whether to give this a 10/10 and nearly didn’t. But there is nothing wrong with it AS A BL.

And it's so GOOD to ALL of its characters and they are so good to each other. It's quiet and because of its goodness it will get overlooked, but I LOVED IT.

It's not one of those that BL outsiders will get and you must like Japan's style to enjoy it. But I'm in it. It's for me.

What am I hung up over? Even the kisses are good.

10/10

I CAN'T RECOMMEND IT HIGHLY ENOUGH

Welcome to a very elite club. I gotta change all my best of lists now.

I am sorry to tell you how difficult this show is to get hold of. It deserves a much wider distribution. As of Nov 2023 I do not know where to legally find it internationally with eng subs. Please check the comments for updates.

It's on Netflix in some countries!

Try to find it, you won't regret it.

(source)

#my favorite JBL of 2023 #best of the year? #Japanese BL #I Cannot Reach You #Kimi ni wa Todokanai #JBL #Japanese bl #live action yaoi #adapted from a manga #this is what i want from japan #it's just so good and so good to it's characters and they are so good to each other

[rosemarymonths]

Introducing Rosemary Month 2023, all throughout October!

You can submit art, fanfics, music, cosplays, meta analysis, shitposts, etc, for the prompts!! I’ll be keeping track of the tags: #rosemary and #rosemary month2023 for submissions!! Or you can simply just @ this acc so I don’t skip over yours by accident!

Prompts:

Day 1: From The Start

Imagine rosemary at their very beginning of their dynamic or at the first step of their romantic relationship!

Day 2: Turtle Consorts

Rose and Kanaya hanging around Rose’s consorts would’ve been pretty cute!

Day 3: Meteorstuck

Imagine any Meteorstuck shenanigans Rose and Kanaya got into together!

Day 4: Hurt/Comfort

Obligatory sadstuck day, but with added comfort for safety measure!

Day 5: First Kiss

Either imagine Pre-Retcon Rose and Kanaya’s first kiss, or the unseen post-retcon kiss! Or maybe you want to explore a different way they could’ve had their first kiss?

Day 6: Quadrants

Time for some rosemary quadrant smearing!

Day 7: Birthdays

How neat would it be to see Rose and Kanaya celebrating each other’s birthdays?

Day 8: Cats

Imagine Rose and Kanaya playing with a bunch of cats!

Day 9: Rain

Rose and Kanaya going through rainy weather, or just explore anything you want to do with rain.

Day 10: Rays

After the rain, Kanaya and Rose finally get some sunshine.

Day 11: Game Over

Explore the absolute heartbreak that is Rose and Kanaya’s deaths, either during the catastrophe or the aftermath within the dreambubbles.

Day 12: AUs

Any AU you want!! Been thinking about a MLP AU lately? A Little Prince AU?

Day 13: Family

Explore either Rose and Kanaya with their own little family, or just them with the other Strilondes/Maryams! Or both!!

Day 14: Alpha Timeline

Imagine either Alpha Rose x Beforus Kanaya, or post-retcon rosemary! Whichever one you like best!

Day 15: Tropes

Explore your favorite rosemary tropes!! Or a trope you’d love to see with rosemary!

Day 16: Scars

Rose and Kanaya bonding over their shared scars, either literal or metaphorical.

Day 17: Flowers

Either Kanaya simply infodumping about her botanic skills to Rose, or just pretty flower art, you decide whatever!

Day 18: Stars

Perhaps Rose and Kanaya stargazing, or aesthetic pieces! Go crazy!

Day 19: Date Night

Imagine Rose and Kanaya finally going on a somewhat decent date this time around.

Day 20: Robots

Assigned meat rosemary day, or just do whatever you wish with robots and rosemary!

Day 21: Double Date

Imagine rosemary going on a double date with another ship you like!

Day 22: Dreambubbles

Either Rose and Kanaya having dreambubble fun times, or perhaps more Game Over angst?

Day 23: Domestic

Explore Rose and Kanaya’s sweet domestic life, as they deserve!

Day 24: Strider Third Wheeler

It wouldn’t be Rosemary without Dave trying to tag along like he’s their five year old son, right?

Day 25: Proposal

Who do you think proposed? Rose or Kanaya?

Day 26: Wedding Anniversary

Rose and Kanaya celebrating their marriage!!

Day 27: Snow

Imagine Rose and Kanaya undergoing snowy weather!

Day 28: Fnaf Day

Exactly what it says. Happy Fnaf Movie month

Day 29: Beach Episode

Imagine Rose and Kanaya just having some beach summer fun times

Day 30: Clothes/Style Swap

A good ol’ fashioned clothing/style swap between Rose and Kanaya!

Day 31: Halloween

Happy Halloween!! Are Rose and Kanaya trick or treating? Passing out candy? Going to a party?Scaring little kids to death maybe?? Do whatever halloween fun you want with these two!

#homestuck #rosemary #rose lalonde #kanaya maryam #rosemary month 2023 #rosekan

[is-today-tomorrow-in-nz]

Let's talk about Mal

Malina is a ship that I absolutely loathe. It is one of the worst possible ships to exist and it should not have been in the canon. This does not mean I hate friends to lovers as a trope. But Malina is toxic on so many levels and Mal's traits should not be portrayed as an act of love, in a YA novel no less.

Character Breakdown:

Characteristics/ Background Info:

Gifted First Army Tracker/ Third Amplifier.

Conventionally handsome.

Driven.

Opiniated(Considering the century the story takes place in.)

Beds other women often.

18-19 years old.

Orphan.

Was raised together with Alina.

How Alina sees Mal till she is taken away

Alina has an unhealthy codependency with Mal. She follows him around not just in the orphanage but in the army as well. She pictures them as husband-wife since they were children. She is extremely jealous and is just waiting for Mal to see her and pick her. But she is discovered as the Sun Summoner and taken away to the Little Palace.

How Mal sees Alina till she is taken away

A childhood friend who he thinks he has outgrown. He explores life beyond what the orphanage has offered him. He carries no romantic feelings for Alina(or going by the trope he has not realised his feelings for Alina). But till Alina is revealed and taken away to the Little Palace, she is not someone whom he associated with love or dreamt of sharing his life with. She was just a remanence of his past life.

How their relationship evolves after Alina becomes the Sun Summoner

After Alina was taken away, Mal 'realises' his feelings for her. And with no response to any of his letters, Mal is worried for her 'safety'. In an attempt to reconnect with her, he risks his life to locate the Stag. All noble and admirable so far.

Finally he sees her, he is more angry than relieved. Not to mention, it was her big debut. She had finally embraced her powers, had become healthy.

He claimed to be worried about her safety and was angry that she was safe(?). Once he realises his heroic act to rescue her is not needed he verbally bashes her for becoming who she was supposed to be(?) Practically calls her the Darkling's whore. See, I was a teenager once. I know that teenagers can be incredibly selfish sometimes. But if your bestie, whom you believed was being tortured, is safe and healthy, you don't bring them down, especially when you claim to love them. You will feel relieved. Yeah, it might sting a little to know that she has moved on without you and she is no longer the childhood bestie you grow up with. But, you support them and wish them well. However, Mal acts incredibly jealous and verbally lashes out unable to face his own inadequacy.

From here on it's red flag nation and classic abuser techniques and traits.

He finds runaway Alina. When you find your bestie whom you accused of being a cossetted princess a few days ago on the run, you become worried. But Mal is all 'I told you so'. His ego is soothed . The Darkling is bad just as he said.

He comments about Alina having an appetite. He has seen his friend sickly thin, with breathing issues, cold, hungry and suffering with an unknown illness for 8-10 years. And now he sees her finally healthy and eating and comments on it as if it is an inconvenience for him. This is were Alina should have had an awakening and walked away from him. But LB thinks this is cute and a healthy love. So Alina remains.

We skip to Siege and Storm, they are in incognito. Alina has wasting sickness again. But not a single concern from Mal. He doesn't question why she became healthy or why she becomes sick again. He is just happy that he got the girl he grew up with back.

When Alina is back in Ravka and with a prince no less. We see the absolute worst of Mal. He is jealous, once again of his own inadequacy, and takes it out on Alina. She is being thrust into a world of politics, in a country literally on the verge of civil war and all he can think of are ways to make Alina's new position about himself.

He throws tantrum anytime Alina has thoughts other than him. He doesn't allow her to focus on the war or grow into her new role. He hates that she is no longer the girl he grew up with. He hates that Nikolai is actually making her better, giving her autonomy, coaching her to the life of politics. He picks constant fights with her. Suffocating her more when she was already struggling under the pressure of leading an army.

Alina tries to establish herself as the leader and commander of the Second Army and he thwarts her attempts by telling the guards and soldiers under her direct command embarrassing stories from her childhood to 'humanize her'. She is the Sun Summoner, a living saint, someone who is being courted by a prince. But he cannot have that can he? He cannot let her raise to glory. He has to bring her down to his level to show her that she was no better than him. He does not want Alina to have anything that was not him or given by him. He punishes her for his inefficacy.

When Alina backs away from a kiss, he goes on to kiss Zoya and cheats on Alina and tells Alina she made him do it. This, right here, is how an abuser behaves.

I don't buy his redemption arc in Ruin and Raising. It was a switch up after the negative feedbacks to his characters and nothing more.

It doesn't matter in the end because, Alina's powers which were an integral part of her was ripped out and she ends up with Mal to become his wife. Mal gets his girl he grew up with, who has always been beneath him.

Mal was an anchor who did not allow Alina to move upward and succeeded in his attempts to sink her with him under the disguise of love.

Conclusion

LB portrays the Darkling as the evil guy and retcons the trilogy to show us how bad he was in the duology. But for an author who is so concerned about young girls falling for abusive men, she literally ignores the glaring, mile-long red flag in Mal and packages them as a destined lovers. For an author who is all about morality and opening young girls eyes to the viles of men, she is doing a disservice to her own readers. The chances of me as a woman, coming across an 'evil' shadow man like the Darkling or a literal Prince are zero(not even near zero.) But Mal is a regular guy. A guy whom we see in our everyday lives. You can see him in a friend who grows jealous of your growth and tries to sabotage your career or in a friend who carried torch for you and spreads rumours about you when he sees you with better men than himself or you can see him in a boyfriend who strings you along for a decade while he waits for his dream girl to come. My point is, men like Mal exist in the real world and the author cannot claim a moral high ground with the Darkling and ignore all the abhorrent things Mal did to Alina. I don't care if people reading this are pro Darkling or not but I care if someone calls Malina as a healthy ship.

Note: Please read books like 'Why Does he Do that?' by Lundy Bancroft or please watch the show 'Kevin can f* himself'. You will see the parallels and understand who Mal really is.

#anti mal oretsev #grisha trilogy #grisha critical #shadow and bone #seige and storm #ruin and rising #anti malina #anti leigh bardugo #anti mal #s&b critical

[songforeddiemunson]

Morning Melodies

Eddie Munson header edit created by and used with permission from the incomparable @somnambulic-thing

For the @stcreators Event 04: Music

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (description vague apart from AFAB) Summary: Eddie and Reader engage in some romantic morning sex. Warnings/Tropes: Established relationship, pure romantic smut (fingering, oral, fem receiving, p in v sex) Note: I love guys who can play the piano. I think it's sexy as hell. Guitars are great, don't get me wrong, but imagine if Eddie could play the piano too? This is purely self-indulgent. Word Count: 1300

You opened your eyes and stretched languidly as wakefulness overtook you. The morning sun streamed in through the windows, and a faint summer breeze stirred the white sheer curtains.  You glanced at the bedside clock; it was almost 8:30 am.  Eddie was gone; he must have let you sleep in.  You pouted slightly; you so enjoyed being able to wake up beside him, and the mornings when you could lounge in bed together were too few.  Eddie had been on tour the last several months, and you only were able to see him a few times. You always missed him terribly when he was away.

As you sat up, the faint sound of piano music drifted to your ears.  It was Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, an achingly beautiful, soft melody. You closed your eyes and smiled; soaking it in.  You loved to hear him play.  

You slid out of bed naked and put on a discarded white button up shirt that Eddie had worn the night before. You took a moment to breathe his scent; after all this time, he still intoxicated you.

You padded downstairs and around the corner to the sitting room where Eddie played. You leaned against the door frame for a moment before entering; watching him.  He was dressed only in red plaid boxers with his long hair cascading around his shoulders. His dark curls glinted with hints of chestnut in the morning sun, and he looked as if he strolled out of a Botticelli painting. A beautiful, dark angel.

You moved quietly toward him, not wanting to interrupt the beautiful music he was making and ruin the moment.  Once you reached him, however, you couldn’t help but touch him; if only to remind yourself that he was real.  You stepped behind him and snaked your arm over his left shoulder, around to his chest.  You bent to press a kiss on the spot where his neck met his left shoulder; one of your favorite places in the world.

He didn't move or stop playing, but you felt him smile.  "Good morning," he said.  "I hope I didn’t wake you."

"You know I love to hear you play," you breathed into his neck, and kissed it again. "Good morning."

He chuckled.  "Damn, you're learning all of my tricks."

You came around to face him, leaning on the edge of the piano, but careful not to get in his way.  "Don’t change your ways on my account."

He smiled at you beatifically. When the sun caught his eyes just right, you thought they looked like honey; a glimpse into the sweetness within that he reserved only for you.

You stuck out your lower lip in a mock pout. "I was sad not to see you in bed with me when I woke up.  You know how I like to wake up slowly with you, and, um…acclimate each other to the new day."  You sighed, and smiled.  "This does make up for it though."

You walked around to the back of the piano, and climbed on top of it. He watched you with a cocked eyebrow but said nothing.  You walked slowly down the length of the instrument, almost to the flow of the music, and stopped at the edge, looking down on him.  Carefully, you lowered yourself down to a sitting position; legs crossed.  His expression took on an intensity that made goosebumps prickle along your skin.

Carefully, so as not to interrupt him, you placed each foot on one of his shoulders. He turned his head and kissed your left ankle, then gave the skin of your calf a little nibble.  You gasped, your breathing picking up pace.  You slowly unbuttoned the shirt, his shirt, fully exposing yourself.  You loved hearing him play, but you needed him to touch you.  You bit your lip in anticipation.

You tilted your pelvis so as to make yourself more accessible, and without missing a note, he rose up from the bench and leaned forward.  You felt his warm, silken tongue draw up the length of your slit, and you moaned.  He licked your entrance for a moment, and then his mouth closed to suckle on your clit.  Your legs shuddered with the pleasure of it, and you fought to remain upright.  He alternated between sucking and licking, sending you into paroxysms of ecstasy.  You felt your climax building, but suddenly his mouth was gone, leaving your heat aching with the need for release.

He stopped playing and stood up, eyes blazing.  He stared at you hungrily as you lifted one bare foot and touched his bulge with your toes.  You drew your foot slowly up his length, and his head fell back as he groaned. He reached down and pulled the band of his boxers down just enough to release his cock. You smiled at the perfect sight of him; his tatted and toned torso visible through his unbuttoned shirt, his impressive length standing at full attention.  

He grabbed your hips and pulled you to the very edge of the piano, and gently entwined the fingers of one hand into your hair.  He slid two long, skilled fingers into your heat, pushing them in as far as they would go.  He probed and hooked his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right places, and you gasped and moaned, hips squirming.  He could obviously tell by your wetness that you needed no further preparation, and after a few moments, he withdrew his digits.  He grasped his cock, and pushed the tip into your entrance. “Yes,” you moaned breathlessly.  "Please Eddie.“

He thrust his hips forward, sinking the full length of him into your depths in one, deliberate movement.  He kept one hand in your hair, holding you still as he thrust into you languidly at first, gradually picking up speed.  You attempted to moan his name, but all that came out was an ecstatic cry.  Your skin slapped audibly as he pounded into you; one foot slipped off his hips and smashed the piano keys, creating a cacophony that made Eddie chuckle despite his efforts. This carried on for several minutes; your mingled breathing punctuated with the occasional sour note caused by your foot hitting the keys as Eddie fucked you.  It wasn’t long before a powerful orgasm washed over you; your walls tightening on his cock. The force of the climax was unrelenting, and your hips bucked as the waves of ecstasy washed over you again and again.  You cried out; it was as if your very skin was on fire, and your mound tingled with a new sensitivity.  

"God...fuck..." he panted, and his teeth clamped down onto your left ear as he climaxed, grinding his pelvis into yours as he pumped his release into you.

He kissed you deeply before gently untwining his fingers from your hair, and braced himself with his hands on the piano, catching his breath.  You stroked the curls that framed his face.  "I've missed you Eddie,“ you said softly.

"I missed you too babe.  Enormously."  He gave you another peck on the lips before withdrawing and pulling up his boxers with a snap.  "You didn’t let me finish the song," he said with a wink.

You laughed and hopped off of the piano. "There will be time for that later.  First, coffee."

"Nope," he grinned at you, shaking his head.  "First shower.  Then coffee."

And so the melody continued, and the mingled sounds of your love and joy was a special kind of music indeed. 🖤

Thank you for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of all fic writers. Please show us some love! :)

MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

[willowgifsdaily]

WELCOME TO WILLOWMONTH2023 The first event hosted by willowgifsdaily and for our first event, we decided to do something a bit different and create a month long event, spanning from July 3rd - 30th and consisting of a total of 12 prompts.

Week 1: July 3 - 9

Day 1: Favourite Character Day 2: Favourite Relationship (Romantic / Friendship / Family) Day 3: TV Show (Whole Season / Specific Episode) or Movie

Week 2: July 10 - 16

Day 4: Favourite Quote Day 5: Favourite Story Arc / Character Development Day 6: Favourite Scene

Week 3: July 17 - 23

Day 7: Musical Number (Song/Score) Day 8: Parallels / Foreshadowing   Day 9: Location / Scenery

Week 4: July 24 - 30

Day 10: Tropes Day 11: Cast Member/s Day 12: Free Choice

RULES

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This event pertains to everything Willow related: 1988 movie, 2022 show, documentary, books etc.

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