#I was busy with school and very depressed
Text
sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 1)
this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.
side A found here!
author's note:
oh goodness. it's been a while.
i really did intend on posting this soon after i published the first part, but then life kind of got in the way. i graduated from grad school, moved to south korea, and have been here since. i'm still a carat, and i really do think about this fanfiction all the time, mainly because this story is truly me bearing my soul to the internet and my friends who have access to the original google doc.
this one is a lot less edited and looked over, but it's because this portion of the fic reminds me of something i'm still in deep grief for. so, for those of you who will read this, i was originally going to have a third installment, but i think i'll leave it at this two. it feels good and true to leave it here.
this was supposed to be published yesterday on seventeen's anni, but i was busy spending time with my korean host family who i've not been able to see that often since moving out :')
maybe i'll write short stories including these two because they are so special to me, but this main story has come to a close. the real final push was jihoon releasing "what kind of future?" officially, the very song that inspired this fic, in honor of his beautiful friend and human, moonbin. bin-ah, i hope you're sailing among the stars and looking over all of those who love you and who you love in return.
and to you, who may be reading this, thank you for being here.
✧⋆°｡☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆｡°✧
tagging @fiantomartell since you asked me to whenever i published this. it's been a long while, but.
pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader
genre: romance, fluff
summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.
rating: 13+
length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)
tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure
inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi
inspo spotify playlist found here!
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side b: him.
The rapid beating in his chest drowned out the slam of the door behind him as he rushed down the stairs of your home, desperate to just get away as soon as possible. Your parents weren’t home, so he didn’t have to worry about looking like an absolute fool in front of them.
You knew. You fucking knew.
You knew how much he was in love with you and this was your way of rejecting him.
He was stupid, so stupid. If he just put his feelings aside then you wouldn’t leave. You wouldn’t have to leave. But this was all his stupid hormones and brain chemistry and his fucking heart. He knew that it wouldn’t pan out. You never saw him as anything more than just a dear friend, a brother. You made that clear.
Since the beginning, your pinkies intertwined promised a forever, but you both had different ideas of what that was. And he was stupid to believe there was a chance.
He ran.
He ran so far and so hard that he couldn’t make sense of left or right or forward or backward. All he knew was that he needed to get away from you.
But he couldn’t.
He passed by Old Man Park’s home with a winding tree you were convinced held fae people that would only come out when the entire town was asleep (there was a 50km radius, you said).
He ran by the rusted bars of the playground you two snuck off to instead of going to cram school where you attempted a flip and promptly landed on the crown of your head, wood chips tangling themselves into your hair, tears mixed with laughter and pain streaming down your cheeks.
The library where you would spend more time in the children’s section than anywhere else because you would practice your ‘reading voice’ for your future children’s bedtime stories.
The baseball field where the realization that he was in love with you hit him harder than any fastball pitch ever could.
You were everywhere.
And he needed to get away.
He went to your house to share the news of passing the trainee audition, that was the whole purpose of seeing you.
However, that wasn’t the only thing he planned on confessing.
If you asked him to stay, he would have.
But instead, you rejected him before he even got one word out.
So, he packed his bags up for Seoul, a place untarnished by you. A city that not even your light could reach, no matter how radiant you were.
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Years later.
“Jihoon-ah, aren’t you working too hard?”
He glanced up at Jeonghan who was probably let into the studio by Bumzu. Jihoon glanced at the clock to notice a bright 4:02am glaring back at him. “Ah, hyung. I didn’t even notice the time.”
“I figured. I brought you some food.”
Jihoon glanced down at the two bags in his hands. His eyes narrowed. “Hyung, I don’t eat as much as you think I do.”
“I’ve seen you eat three full meals in one sitting. Get away from your desk and we can eat.”
Jihoon sighed before he reluctantly left the seat he hardly moved from for over seven hours. “Thanks.”
“Of course,” Jeonghan replied happily, snapping the wooden chopsticks into two. He started chewing on one of the danmuji, the sound of its crunch reverberating in the studio. “Oh. And also, the wi-fi’s down at the dorm, so.”
“So, you’re here to steal my bandwidth.”
“I brought you food. I paid my toll.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.”
“So, are you in the composing stage or the writing lyrics stage?”
“...Lyrics.”
“Hm. What are you writing about? Or rather, who are you writing about?”
Jihoon stabbed the grilled fish. “...You know who.”
“She’s really got a grip on you, huh.”
Jihoon grunted in response. Obviously.
Jeonghan continued, “I saw that one of the local newsletters interviewed the group home that she volunteers at. She was voted as volunteer of the year. Again. She smiles with her entire body. Seems like a good person.”
The younger of the two picked away at the fish, not bringing it onto his makeshift plate. “Yeah.”
“Do you still stalk her on Instagram?”
Jihoon let out a loud sigh.
“That’s a yes, then.”
“You know it’s not as bad as it used to be. I used to check, like, every few weeks, but now it’s gone down to just a couple times a year.”
“She hasn’t blocked you yet?”
“Hah. I don’t think she even knows that my account is reactivated.”
“Well, you never needed to reactivate before. Her Instagram used to be public. The rest of the members and I used to scroll through wondering how a bright girl like her could be associated with such a deadpan guy like you.”
“Wow. Thanks, hyung.”
Jeonghan merely brushed off Jihoon’s sarcasm, already used to it. “She only made it private this last year, right? Since she complains about her program being out to kill her on her story. To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t realize you’ve been watching her stories.”
“I don’t think she checks who watches her story since she has over a few thousand followers.”
“She attracts people, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she always has.”
“Can I see her profile again?”
“You’re not going to do something weird, right?”
“Ey, Jihoon-ah.”
“That makes me really not want to.”
“Ey.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes before pulling out his phone. He opened Instagram and clicked on the “Search” feature and saw your profile appear at the top without even needing to type anything. He signaled for Jeonghan to scoot down the couch so he could sit down and handle the phone in his own hands. Jeonghan peered over his shoulder as he scrolled through your profile.
“Oh, is that Japan?”
“Yeah.”
Jihoon clicked on your post.
But it wasn’t opening.
So, he clicked again. And then again.
And his phone decided to catch up with his thumb’s movements.
The once white heart was now red.
His grip loosened on the device of betrayal and it clattered to the ground. “Oh shit.”
Jeonghan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. He placed his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I’m sorry, but. This is karma for not letting me see her profile on my own.”
“Hyung. Hyung. What should I do?”
“Just unlike it? I’m pretty sure that Instagram doesn’t send a notification as long as you unlike it before she sees it.”
“How do you know?”
Jeonghan shrugged. “Jihoon. It’s not the end of the world if she happens to see it. If she blocks you, then you know, and you end up writing another heartbreak masterpiece—” Jihoon couldn’t even appreciate the comment. “—but. Who knows what’ll happen?”
“...”
“Uh. I’ll just… do it for you, then.”
Jeonghan picked up the phone, facing the screen towards Jihoon, the camera scanning his frozen features to unlock and Jeonghan tapped the red heart to empty it again. He placed the phone back on the younger man’s thigh, but Jihoon remained in the same position as earlier, eyes glazed.
“Jihoon-ah.”
“Hyung.”
“Let’s just wait, yeah? The food’s getting cold. So, let’s finish eating.”
“...Okay.”
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Jihoon picked at the rice bowl in front of him, his mind light years away, chest filled with concern for the future. Was auditioning for a company worth it? Even if he started the process now, wouldn’t it still take a while to even hear back?
“Jihoonie.”
His heart constricted once he heard the voice of the person who made him unsure. He caught you blinking owlishly at him. “Y/N.”
“Hrmm. You seem quite a bit down, my friend. You’ve barely touched your first bowl of rice. It’s concerning.”
“Just thinking.”
“Oh, don’t do that. We know that usually ends badly for people.”
“Well, someone between the two of us has to have brain cells.”
“I pride myself in simultaneously never thinking and also being the top student of our school.”
“You work miracles, Y/N.”
“Hey, now I know you’re down because you didn’t call me a flipping nerd. Your best moods are usually accompanied by your worst words.”
“You make me seem like an asshole. You slander me to other people, don’t you?”
“Of course. I can’t have them know just how utterly wonderful and fantastic you are. I’d rather you have that butthole reputation if I get to keep my best friend all to myself. I’m a selfish lady, you know.”
Did you even know how much your words affected him?
“You’re neither selfish nor a lady.”
“Oh, but I am. I’m a selfish lady who’s only checking on you because I refuse to be wrought with worry for the rest of the day. So, come on, Jihoonie. Let’s go play darts.”
“Last time we played you almost stabbed my hand.”
“Your fault for reaching for the board when I was about to own you. Come on. Let’s go. I’ll make a pinky promise with you.”
Jihoon snorted. “Of what?”
“I promise to do whatever you want if you win.”
Jihoon scrunched up his nose in response. You were always so naive with him, trusting him wholly. But a part of him was grateful that you did. He merely sighed and stood up.
He might as well use your promise to his advantage.
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“She didn’t block me.”
“Oh, really?” Jeonghan glanced up at Jihoon who suddenly broke the silence.
“Who’s she?” Soonyoung’s ears perked up.
“You know. His firefly,” Jeonghan replied.
“What? Why would she block you?” Seungkwan directed his question at Jihoon, who was simply trying to edit lyrics in his own studio, which was being occupied by several SEVENTEEN members.
“Jihoon accidentally liked one of her posts last night, but we unliked it. Oh, sorry. I unliked it because he was completely frozen.”
“The notification probably didn’t go through,” Seungkwan supplied. “I’m pretty sure unliking a post makes the notification go away.”
Jihoon had set his phone aside earlier in hopes of not constantly checking it. His mind may be unsteady, but he was always self-disciplined.
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Soonyoung glance down at his own phone screen that buzzed a second prior.
“Oh. Jihoon-ah, she liked one of your posts.”
Before his mind could even catch up, Jihoon flung himself to his phone, his self-discipline be damned. He frantically clicked on the notification and it redirected him to his Instagram page, where he saw your name among the list of likers. He wasn’t sure whether his heart was racing or whether it stopped completely because the buzzing in his ears overtook all of his other senses.
He even ignored the boys’ laughter around him.
“Is… Is social media actually facilitating real connection right now? Are we about to prove all of the ahjussi and ahjumma wrong? Are we about to witness history?”
“Seungkwan-ah.”
“Sorry, Jeonghan-hyung.”
“She… She didn’t block me. She saw me. What is this? What do I do? Do I just ignore it? Or should I let her know I saw it?”
Soonyoung snorted. “Yah, I’ve never seen Jihoon this nervous for any performance ever.”
“His heart’s probably racing more than it did the Golden Disc Awards.”
“WHAT DO I DO.”
“Jihoon-hyung,” Seungkwan started. “I think the first thing you need to do is breathe.”
So, he did. In. Out. In. Out.
After what seemed like years, Soonyoung spoke up. “So… Are you gonna message her?”
Jihoon sat in contemplation for a moment before he decidedly shook his head. “No. It’s time to write a song.”
Soonyoung’s eyebrows rose at that. “You’re gonna go back to work after all of this?”
Jihoon bit his lip. “No. This is gonna be a solo song.”
The corners of Jeonghan’s lips curled up at his dongsaeng. “I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”
Jihoon nodded almost mindlessly.
Everything about her usually is.
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“Jihoonie~ Wake up~”
He groaned loudly under the bed covers.
He heard you snicker, the only warning before you landed with a loud thump as he let out an “oof!” from beneath you.
“Get off me. You weigh like a million pounds.”
Rather than listening, you spread your limbs and trapped the adolescent boy beneath you, nuzzling further into the outer casing of his cocoon. “Nope. Just yesterday you yelled at me for not eating enough when you flung me off of the couch by accident because I stole the remote. So.”
“I’m suffocating. You’re killing your best friend.”
“Oh, but to die with a beautiful girl on top of you, isn’t that the way to go?”
There was a moment of silence where Jihoon contemplated catapulting your entire being off of his bed before, “Pretty sure that’s your dream, you damn pervert,” came his muffled reply.
“Huh. You might be right there.”
“Get! Off!”
His hand easily found your weak point between your first and second rib and you cried out as you toppled down onto his bedroom floor. He emerged from the confines of his sheets with hair sticking up every which way.
You grinned lazily up at his disheveled state and he glared right back at you. “Why are you in my bedroom?”
“Because your mom said to come and get you! We’re going to Muju today, remember? In time for the Firefly Festival!”
“Right. It’s your yearly family reunion.”
“Yes, I will become one with the bugs. My fursona will arise again. Or is it bugsona?”
“Is a buggy better than a furry?”
“You’re asking me to choose between two evils, my dear Jihoonie. Come on, get up. I’m excited to spend an entire weekend with our family.”
It was way too early for his mind to whirr as fast as it did at the simple implication of ‘our’. “Alright, firefly. Get out of my room so I can get ready.”
“Okay! I’ll go help Mama downstairs.”
You were committed to calling Jihoon’s mom as Mama instead of Eomma, as the latter held a tone for you that was nothing less than stressful.
Jihoon smiled at your joy, but stopped when he noticed you freeze in place. “...What?”
You shifted the weight in your feet before speaking. “Mm. Just had a thought. With a smile like yours, who would ever need the summertime?”
You grinned at him while his heart stopped. You always spoke without a care in the world; never carefully crafting your thoughts before speaking them aloud. You were spontaneous. Wild, even. Sometimes it ended with you in some kind of trouble, while other times, like this one, ended with him in trouble instead.
You scurried out of his room before he could respond.
He released a dragged out sigh as he felt his cheeks warm.
Forget summertime.
He wondered whether the earth could be sustained through all of the seasons at the sheer brilliance of your smile.
But he ought to thank the summertime.
Because it meant, every year, without fail, he would wake up to you, he would smell the breakfast you helped his mother cook, he would hop on a plane to travel to a different province and see the night sky alight with hundreds of fireflies, your face aglow with soft awe and wonder.
Yeah.
He needed the summertime.
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“What? Jihoon-hyung is talking to the girl that just upped and left him and fled the country?”
“Chan-ah, your wording needs work,” Seungcheol chastised. The other members that were near enough to hear nodded, while others were distracted by their own activities.
Jihoon buried his face in his hands. “Eugh, I don’t even know anymore. It’s not like we’re actually talking; she just reliked one of my posts. It’s like, she went back and let me know that she saw me. But is that supposed to be a warning? Is it supposed to be a white flag?”
The youngest member of SEVENTEEN shrugged. “Hyung, I think that you’re putting a lot of meaning behind something that was just a small gesture.”
“Nah, Chan,” Seungcheol interjected. “Jihoon has been in love with this girl since he was a kid. This is more than just a small gesture, after what she did to him.”
Wonwoo spoke up. “Hey, don’t forget Jihoon was the one who left Busan first.”
The accused groaned.
“Wonwoo, you’re just biased towards her because you think that she and Jihoon would make a good couple and you believe in an ideal love.”
“Hyung, I just think that if Jihoon can write what he writes about her, there’s something there.”
“You romanticist.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Jihoon-ah, I think you’ve tried to reach her with your words time and time again, but maybe it was never made clear that she was the one it was for. You mentioned that she really thought you were in love with your noona—” Jihoon grimaced at the memory. “—so, maybe she’s just unaware.”
“She can’t be that oblivious,” Soonyoung interrupted. Jihoon knew Soonyoung was almost fiercely protective over him because he was the one who witnessed Jihoon’s aftermath firsthand. Soonyoung may be over-the-top some days, but whenever Jihoon needed it, he would help ground him.
Wonwoo’s eyes flicked between the two of his fellow 96ers. “We were all kids once, Soonyoung. We were all so focused on ourselves we couldn’t really see what was happening around us.”
Soonyoung pursed his lips. “...I guess. Jihoon, what do you think?”
Jihoon stared at his hands. “Does it matter whether she knew back then or not?”
They all collectively raised a brow.
“Whattaya mean?” Seungcheol asked.
“I can make a ton of assumptions about her. That she was actually in love with me and was scared. That she was rejecting me in her own cruel, yet kind, way. That she had no idea and the timing was just completely off. But all of that, I don’t actually know. All I do know is that… I want to see her. And not just from afar anymore. But part of me also hates her. But all of me misses her. I don’t know. I guess I’m just too stupid to figure this out.”
A heavy silence passed over the group.
Soonyoung broke it. “If you’re stupid, then I’m the biggest idiot on this planet.”
“That’s not comforting, that’s just a fact.”
“Hoon, you wound me.”
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Award shows were weird.
At first, everything was an out-of-body experience for him and could barely process what was happening. He even couldn’t believe that he and his twelve members managed to earn their matching pinky rings and the right to produce and perform, let alone be nominated for an award. When they went on the stage, they did their best to be as refreshing of idols as they could be.
But it was much more daunting than they were used to.
Their debut year went by, and although there were many nominations, they remained only that.
In middle school, he would often tell you that you had a strange fixation on being number one in your graduating class. He said that he didn’t get it, that being in the top 5 was already something that was admirable.
He would never forget the look you gave him when you said, “One day, you’ll know what it’s like. You’ll know what it’s like to almost have something and then not. It’s the kind of feeling that eats away at you, Jihoon. The feeling of, ‘But what if I did more?’”
He merely rolled his eyes and called you dramatic.
That is, until he experienced it firsthand.
The first time ever was when he was doing a music competition for clarinet and compared himself to his bandmate, who received several achievements while Jihoon found that he simply didn’t have the body to be able to hold the same lung capacity.
Then he felt it: that driving force.
You both pushed yourselves further, to higher heights.
And it ended with him sick and bedridden.
And you, heartbroken and unsure of life.
The two of you would reprimand each other for trying too hard, but even with accountability, that envy, that desire for an indisputable win, that fear of failure, would still sneak its way into you both. You, with your academics. Him, with his musical endeavors.
For several years after their debut, at award shows, Jihoon would clap, the rhythmic beating of his hands echoing that in his chest, his smile lined with bitterness, his ears rang with the whispered voices.
‘Those people didn’t deserve it. You worked so much harder. These people don’t even produce their own music. Or maybe it’s because they have real producers and composers, unlike you. Who are you to think you deserve that award?’
One night, after another show of no wins, he collapsed onto his bed, unlocking his phone, intent on watching an anime episode before falling asleep. His members were discouraged and no one wanted to discuss what more they could even do.
Even if they did everything right, maybe it still would never be good enough.
When he opened up the YouTube app on his phone, he saw a recommended video. Your name written out in English caught his eye and he realized it was Part II of a podcast you had done with the channel before. It was a Korean-American podcast and you would share your experiences in the Korean language, connecting with your culture despite being in a foreign country.
Before he could think about what he was doing, he clicked on it, hoping to find comfort in a person he always had, in someone he probably always would.
Several minutes in and he realized just how thick that red string must be between the two of you.
“You know, I thought I undid a lot of my perfectionism before coming to college. Korea is the birthplace of comparison and pressure, I’m sure of it. It was ingrained into me from childhood. So, I did what I could. I got out. Learned to broaden my horizons. But when you attend a school like Yale, your environment really just kinda forces you to be perfect just so that you can survive. Because if you’re not, then you’re cut.”
He thought back to his trainee days.
To his current days.
How similar.
“I remember being at an event where we were being presented awards for our achievements. I remember that I was in the running for one of them, and I won’t say which one so this doesn’t come back to bite me. But at this one event, I remember no other guests were invited, only the nominees and peers in the same field. And when they announced the winner, everyone applauded, of course. However, I won’t ever forget the sight that I saw.”
You chewed on your lips, gazing upward trying to find the right words to say, a habit you’ve had for years.
“The winner had the biggest grin on their face, proud of themselves, as they are allowed to be. But when they turned back to the crowd? I think they saw something. I think they saw that our smiles were forced, that we were judging them, judging ourselves, trying to determine whether they actually deserved the recognition or whether we should have been the ones to win. And… their smile faltered. It was quick, but it was noticeable. And I think the only reason why it even faltered was because it was only those of us who were nominated or could have been. Like, it’s easy to cheer on someone for a prize that you didn’t want, but as soon as you have stakes in the game? Well. That’s a whole different story. But when they lost that smile, it felt like something shattered.”
Your eyes welled up with tears, but they didn’t fall.
“They say it’s lonely at the top. I haven’t been there in a long time, but. I don’t even know if that’s where I want to be. These people have done super cool things, and who’s to say that I would’ve gotten the same results if I had tried? And maybe, maybe they have enough competitors. Maybe they need someone who celebrates them. Someone who knows the hardships of working in this field. And maybe that’s what I can do. I just want to do what I love and what I love doing is social work. Celebrating other people. Learning their stories. Not saving the world, but trying to make it into one that might be worth saving. If I happen to get recognized because of doing those things and they give some kind of trophy for it, then alright. But that’s just a byproduct of the greatest award I’ve already given myself, which is just letting myself do what I love.”
And those were words he carried with him as he went to bed that night.
When they won their first award. Their first Bonsang. Their first Daesang.
Award shows were weird.
It was all about performance.
Performing on stage, prepped through sound-check, clean-cut choreography, and pre-recorded live vocals to grab the audience’s attention.
Performing when at their designated table, giving reactions at a timely rate for both the fancams and large screen cameras.
Performing when behind the stage, being the best hoobae or sunbae they needed to be, adapting to whatever situation they may be placed in.
He knew how to perform. He was good at it.
It was why he’s in this industry.
But there are some things that don’t warrant worrying about an audience.
As he watched the seven members of BTS walk towards the stage, reaching for their Daesang. He clapped to match the rhythm in his chest, sure and steady, at ease. His smile, genuine and wide. The voice in his head, not unlike yours mixed with his own, provided gentle comfort.
‘They deserved it. They worked hard, just like you did. Their ability to collaborate with other musicians is astounding. It would be an honor to work with them. And you, too, have won, you’ve given yourself the greatest award by continuing to do what you love.’
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Jihoon once again found himself at the recording studio, however, at a more reasonable time. He was trying to finalize all of the details on the songs for their comeback album, so he was spending his days in the recording studio and ending it in the dance studio, fully exhausted to where he would only have enough energy to shower and trudge back to his bedroom, just to pass out on his bed.
He heard the door to his room open but didn’t make an effort to turn around.
“How’s the song coming along?”
“The album is nearly complete—”
“No, the solo one.”
Jihoon finally glanced up at Seungcheol who now stood beside him. “I haven’t had as much time to work on it. Why?”
“No, I just wanted to check in with you.”
“You’re a good leader, hyung,” he said quietly.
Seungcheol clicked his tongue. “Of course, I am. But I’m mostly just curious because you’ve never written a song about her specifically that only had you singing it.”
“…that’s not true.”
“What? Which one?”
“The first song I ever wrote.”
“Oh what? What was it?”
Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s an old song that I think only I remember anyway, plus, I only had vocals at the time. No instruments or anything.”
“…huh. What was it about?”
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You wiped your snot away from your face, unable to differentiate between mucus and tears. Your unrelenting sobs weakened to light shudders.
His voice carried from above you, his hand entangled in your messy knots as he rubbed soothing circles against your temple. You curled yourself further into the tear-stained pillow he so lovingly dubbed, “Y/N’s Breakdown Headrest” which also doubled as “Y/N’s Punching Bag” when your emotions were forged from fire and not a dam that couldn’t hold anymore of the taunts and cruelty from your own parents.
His thigh was a mere hair’s breadth away from grazing the top of your head. He had a tendency to bounce his leg, one you continuously called him out on, but he wouldn’t ever stop his bad habit.
That is, unless you needed him to.
And he always gave you what you needed.
So, he sang to you a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.
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Jihoon paused, wondering how you comforted yourself now, wondering if you now had a Breakdown Headrest 2.0, before he spoke again. “It’s about what all the songs I write are about. Love. Although, more lowkey, not as direct.”
“Love and her are synonymous to you, aren’t they?”
“She’s the one who taught me most of it,” Jihoon said nonchalantly. “A truly honest and genuine form of it.”
“Wow, how romantic of you,” Seungcheol laughed.
Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you know I only have the patience to tolerate all of you guys because of her. She believes it’s her divine mission to be as annoying as possible.”
“She sounds terrifying.”
“Yeah, she’s taught me how to be patient and remain calm. But she was also incredibly patient with me. Honestly, it feels like all the things that make me likable are all from her.”
Seungcheol made a “oOooOooOOOooOOooo~” noise before Jihoon got fed up and kicked him out. Of course, his reprieve was short lived as more and more members flocked into his room, a constant moving traffic of his twelve brothers.
He imagined you meeting them.
With Seungcheol, you would probably tease him relentlessly, trying to come up with new names for the S. Coups game, while also thanking him for being so protective and steadfast, praising him for his taste in emo music and asking him to sing My Chemical Romance with you.
With Jeonghan, you both would sneak off to devise plans on how to create chaotic dynamics in between the members and cause more infighting while eating stolen snacks or spend hours just sitting around, doing fuck all, because why not.
With Jisoo, you both would speak in English (with you affectionately calling him by his English name “Joshua!”), sharing music as well as probably arguing between Los Angeles and New York, since that was a common feud topic Jisoo brought up.
With Jun, you would try to get as many reactions out of him as possible or get him to write down the list of all of the authentic Chinese restaurants around Korea or you would sit with him at a piano and watch as he played OSTs to Chinese dramas, applauding all the while starry-eyed.
With Soonyoung, you both would either be each other’s soulmates or the banes of each others’ existence, both fiery and passionate; however, you were always good at matching the energies of those around you, so you would let him ebb and flow while you merely followed, likely to call him, “Hoshingi,” just as Jeonghan does, and you would probably love caring for him the same way you did with elementary school students.
With Wonwoo, you would watch him play his PC games, probably in awe of his prowess or you would discuss lyricism and poetry, both exchanging flowery words for no reason as you would try to pick his brain as to what really lies beneath the surface, whether he truly is as straightforward as he seems, and be intensely satisfied that he simply is as he is.
With Seokmin, likely to sweetly call him “DK~”, you would ask him to sing for you since you loved Broadway style voices, and since you both were so generous with your kindness, there would be no doubt that the two of you would somehow manage to start up a non-profit that manages to eradicate all the bad in the world.
With Mingyu, you would discuss filming and the latest movies to watch and you would ask him how he finds the motivation to do many different hobbies at once especially when busy with being an idol; you would probably try to trick him into listening to you tell ghost stories as if they happened to you.
With Minghao, you would share your favorite poets and philosophical ideas, sharing the life lessons that you two have learned and realized you managed to hack life’s code at a younger age than most, you both realized the real importance of being alive: contentment and love.
With Seungkwan, you would probably be laughing so hard at his wit that you wouldn’t have much time to breathe, you would try to figure out how exactly he managed to memorize so much information surrounding K-Pop and why exactly he was so passionate about it or if neither of those, you would ask him if he could get you the plug for those Jeju hallabong oranges.
With Hansol, you would call him “Vernonz,” since you loved names that began with the letters V and Z, and ask him about his parents once you found out they were both artists, and you two would definitely discuss the effects of late-stage capitalism and social media on humanity.
With Chan, you would do your best not to baby him, but you hold a lot of fondness for those younger than you, you would try to figure out how he is so particular about his attention to detail and whether it is something that is pressuring him (and if there was some way you could alleviate it).
He imagined you there, integrated into his life again. He imagined you showing authentic interest in every one of his precious members, unlike most interviewers they would be forced to interact with every comeback. You would learn all of their names, find out their favorite foods, the best way to make everyone collectively laugh, and ultimately, how to help all of them feel comfortable around you and inevitably love you.
And once they did, he could say that his most beloved people were finally all together.
He fell in love with you, but you’re the one who taught him how to walk into it with his eyes wide open. So, he did it with his members. It took practice, having to actively choose them. With you, it may have always been a choice, but it was as natural as breathing, even if there were times he felt like he was being suffocated (or wanted to suffocate you).
He remembered the first time he became aware of it. Most people talk about how love comes, there was always talk about rose-tinted glasses and how it softened the world around them, unable to forget the brilliant smile on their face, but no. You always shattered expectations.
From anyone else’s standards, his realization came at an inopportune time. But it was so clear. It wasn’t as though you had sparkles around you as you emitted a warm glow, it wasn’t as though your hair was perfectly touched up with no strand out of place, it wasn’t as though you were perfectly dolled-up with eyes lined and lips colored. No. It was just… you.
And that's when he knew.
Because there was no filter to block the sheer clarity he was hit with when he finally accepted he was in love with you.
──────────────────
When Jihoon saw your crying form, a slurry of words filled with concern and instructions were the only thing leaving his mouth as he packed his things up. He only deviated once he gave a quick farewell to his noona who left with her dad.
Jihoon bit his lip. Would you be okay? Maybe he’ll just rush home now and shower then call you later at night. Or maybe he should go prepare his bedroom if you decide to visit. Yes. He should do that.
Jihoon turned on his heel to make his way back home, his newfound mission resounding in his mind.
However, your cousin’s voice reached his ears, “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”
He looked back at him, saw the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly. His fist clenched, the baseball preventing his nails from biting into his palms. He spun it once. Twice. And up into the air.
“Here, firefly.”
You caught it by instinct.
Your gaze met his.
He felt his heart ache at the sheer brokenness apparent in your eyes, rimmed with red and puffed skin. He grit his teeth. He hasn’t seen you cry this hard since the day your parents told you that your number two class ranking was nothing to be proud of and that they expected more from you.
His jaw clenched so hard, he heard an audible bite.
“Why are you giving me this?”
Your voice sounded so soft, like a child. A visceral instinct within him wanting to lull you into a peaceful rest with a lullaby.
But he wouldn’t do that.
Because that would be embarrassing.
(That was a future Jihoon problem.)
“It’s your win today.”
He much preferred the look of confusion on your face to the look of agony you held just a few moments ago.
“Huh?”
He swallowed thickly, his brain unable to keep up with the words tumbling from his mouth. “Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”
Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was probably much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands, unlike his.
You sniffled.
A soft smile formed on your lips.
And Jihoon realized he preferred that look on your face than any other he’s seen.
Pretty.
He rapidly turned on his heel before he even gave a second to try and unpack that thought.
The weight of his baseball gear was really doing a number on his heart, he realized belatedly.
That night, he didn’t prepare his room. He didn’t even call you.
(Not that you reached out.)
He merely stared up at his ceiling, his heart in a constant flux of rapidly beating or stopping completely.
He groaned loudly as he played through the day’s earlier events, thinking himself stupid for giving you a fucking baseball. You don’t even like sports. Did he think he sounded cool when he said all of that cringey stuff?
It’s your win?
But despite the feeling of wanting to curl in on himself, he couldn’t help but still agree with his earlier self.
You did win his heart, after all.
(He threw his pillow at the wall.)
──────────────────
“You’ve been liking her posts more easily.”
Jihoon merely grunted as he tapped away at his computer, Soonyoung on the couch beside him. “I decided to just… stop overthinking. Well, more like just stop thinking in general. I’m too tired to try and pretend I’m smarter than I actually am.”
Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. “You got it bad for her.”
Jihoon glared at him, who was scrolling through his (Jihoon’s) phone. “Be careful what you say. For the amount of songs that are about her, she covers basically 60% of your salary.”
Soonyoung laughed. “Guess I owe her a lot, huh? If she didn’t up and leave, you wouldn’t have come here and we would’ve never met. So, I guess I’m grateful to her. Plus. She’s cute.”
“She’s more than that.”
“Yeah. I can tell,” Soonyoung went quiet for a moment. “She… A part of me really doesn’t want to trust her. I keep remembering that day, you know. Where you just… didn’t seem like yourself. Barely there—” Jihoon cringed at the recalled memory. “—but she also just seems so genuine that it makes it hard. I want to be your bro, you know? Bro code and all—”
“I never asked you to do that.”
“—And I’m nothing if not a bro. But I don’t think you’re the type of person to be hung up on someone who’s not trustworthy. Like. You lose interest in people easily if you don’t see them on a regular basis. But her? It’s been years, bro.”
“Okay, bro.”
“Just letting you know I support you in your decisions,” Soonyoung stated, but there was an edge to his voice that sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than Jihoon. “If she’s really who you say she is. If she’s the one who’s captured that stubborn heart of yours. Then I’ll do everything I can to help you out—Oh, she posted again. Wow. She posts often and yet still gets over a thousand likes. It hasn’t even been a day. Oh wow!”
Jihoon twitched but tried not to show his eagerness. “What?”
“They’re doing a donation drive for the group home that she works with. Ey, how can someone who does volunteer work to help kids and teens be a bad person? Jihoon, are you kidding me?”
“Young-ah, you’re the one who said it, not me—”
“So close-minded, Hoon.”
Jihoon rolled his computer chair over to Soonyoung, snatched his phone back, and smacked the annoying gnat’s hand in the process. Soonyoung yelped in pain, but laughed it off. He saw your post (noticed that Soonyoung ‘liked it for him’) and a figurative lightbulb lit up over his overworked head.
“This looks like something Bumzu-hyung would post on his story. Maybe I can ask him to share it. Oh, but this is her private page. Oh wait. She tagged the group home.”
“Thanks for the play-by-play.”
Jihoon ignored him and clicked the profile to see they had the exact same e-flyer post. But he knew that you’d probably notice there was an influx of donations (hardly anything got by you) and he didn’t want to bombard you with unsolicited help.
But it’s for a good cause!
But he might be trespassing on her territory.
Everyone cares about youth and kids!
This group home wouldn’t have even caught his eye had it not been for you.
He groaned inwardly. “I don’t know whether I should ask Bumzu to reshare or what—”
“Dude, just ask her if you can share it and then wait for her reply. It’s not like there’s only a one day donation thing.”
Jihoon blinked at Soonyoung. “You’re right.”
Soonyoung immediately sat up straighter, pulling out his own phone from his pocket. He opened up his voice memo app. “Say that again, I need to record that so I can set it as my ringtone.”
Soonyoung pressed the Record button, extended his phone receiver to Jihoon, who leaned in promptly and said:
“Fuck off, Kwon Soonyoung.”
──────────────────
“Kwon Soonyoung, what the hell are you doing?”
“What do you mean? It’s not like I planned this.”
Jihoon glared at the boy before him who was somehow wearing matching clothes again. He specifically came home after rehearsal to change into something different and yet, here he was, matching with this endless energy ball. Jihoon specifically changed out of his all-black garment to choose a long, plain blue button-down overshirt and ripped, dark jeans. Something different from his usual style of a t-shirt and shorts.
Yet, there Soonyoung was, in nearly the same outfit, minus the overshirt being a blue flannel.
“I think this just means that we’re soulmates, Jihoon-ah.”
Jihoon pulled back his fist as if to hit Soonyoung, but the latter didn’t flinch at all, only laughed at the expense of his friend. The other members were downstairs waiting for them so Jihoon didn’t have enough time to change out of the outfit. And it felt almost ridiculous to give this more attention than it deserves, as if he was losing by admitting that it bothered him to the point of needing to change clothes.
But Kwon Soonyoung, the man that he was, would not let him live it down.
“Wow, we look like a couple. We should go on dates, huh? Get some sushi or–ack!”
The shorter of the two pressed his foot against the back of the other’s knee and Soonyoung nearly came crashing down had it not been for his instincts to catch himself.
Jihoon huffed down the stairs, shaking his head at the situation and readying himself to be made fun of by his members. Once he got through that door, it was game over.
And he was right.
Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Dino were the ones who rallied the rest of the group to heckle, which only added insult to injury, as those three were the ones who had the longest rap sheet to make fun of. Jihoon kept his disgusted face on as Soonyoung wrapped his arms around his shoulders, announcing to (what seemed like) the world about how he’s ‘matching with his best friend.’
Jihoon came back with a slew of half-hearted insults at the rest of his members, but they unfortunately outnumbered him. He is rarely on the receiving end of this level of teasing, but he was dragged into it thanks to Soonyoung, who was eating it up.
Even in the midst of it all, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel thankful that he even had someone to accidentally match with who would wear it with such pride and not shy away from it. Sure, it might seem dumb and annoying, but it reminded him that he could have that kind of playful relationship with others outside of you. He had other friends in school or at baseball, sure, but none were as comfortable, as relentlessly fun. He thought there would never be another you.
And there never was, but that feeling of acceptance, of joy, of gratitude.
He was able to find it outside of you.
Which was a heartbreaking realization before, but now he only hopes you’ve done the same.
And mere hours after his own outfit debacle, Jihoon sees your instagram story to find you accidentally matching with Hyejin, her making the same face that he did not too long ago. But you had a shit-eating grin, no doubt proud of causing a disruption in your friend’s life.
Your caption read: “oh, you and your soulmate are tied by a single, red thread? that’s nothing compared to the matching threads we got on right now. eat your heart out, makoto shinkai.”
Beneath it in smaller letters: “if you can’t tell by her face, this was not planned at all, but man, am i really rolling with it.”
Jihoon snorted at the serendipity of it all.
Perhaps the string of fate really isn’t just a single thread.
──────────────────
It was a rare day in which Jihoon found himself at home.
Which meant he had a lot of time to think about you.
(You replied to him. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. But he was, pleasantly so. Of course, it included a thumbs up emoji which was the visual manifestation of the acquaintance zone, but he would take what he could get.)
Album preparations were underway, and although there is a part of him that feels as though he should be scrambling, especially as their anniversary date was literally tomorrow, he thought back to a voice from his youth.
Years ago, he laid in his childhood bed, struck with a nasty fever from pushing his immune system too far by attempting to balance school and various music competitions. There was a half-asleep you, exhausted by misplaced guilt, with your fingers intertwined with his, who said: Jihoonie, Koreans always say ‘fighting’. I told you that this morning, and I knew you weren’t feeling well. I could’ve stopped you. And now here you are. I said ‘fighting,’ but why? Why do we have to fight? Life isn’t a battle to win. You don’t have to overcome anything, okay? You can just lay here and be with me. Please don’t get sick again. Please remember to rest. Some days, it’s okay to just be.
So, here he was. Simply being.
Whenever massive events (like SEVENTEEN’s six year anniversary) happened, he made sure to spend the 24 hours prior doing nothing than just being, to gain enough energy to last the following day.
Otherwise, the nagging guilt would get to him.
You were always weaving stories with even the thinnest of threads. Your knack for adding dramatic flair, amping it up to eleven, was a nightmare sometimes. For example, when he got sick and you kept repeating that you should’ve said something instead of letting him go on stage only to nearly faint afterwards. You took on too much responsibility for things outside of your control, which only caused you to lose your grip on what you actually could.
His chest tightened at the thought of you losing your grip completely. There were very few things in life that terrified him, but you potentially ending yours was one that plagued him until he learned how to remain steady when you were feeling unsure, and even still, it tore him up inside. But he knew that it wasn’t his battle to face; he wasn’t meant to save you. You reminded him of that time and time again, so instead, he learned how to let you live the life you weren’t sure you wanted. He observed warily.
As a teenager, he knew just how bad these thoughts could get for people at that age. He knew how people fell prey to the lies that they were unworthy of life and love.
So, he simply tried to be as honest as possible. He would do his best to not invalidate your experience, but he refused to enable those insidious feelings. He would come off as abrasive, he was sure, but your ability to detect bullshit was like no other. Your parents had a big hand in that. So, instead, he was truthful in his own way, in his own language, one that you learned to understand.
A few years ago, you did a two-part YouTube podcast at Yale. The first one was released a couple of months prior to the second, and he’s sure at least one hundred of the views are from SEVENTEEN (not all him, his members also took away a lot from your words).
He listened to that podcast time and time again. He heard the life in your voice, the curiosity of the future outweighing the pain of the past. You said that life was, at first, a means to be with the people you loved. But you slowly came to believe that life was something that you would choose to love every single day, and so you did.
He hoped that you still did, but trusted that, if there were days that would come where you did not, you would reach out to someone to wait with you until the storm passed and you could choose to love again.
His chest filled with pride thinking about how far you’ve come.
But he couldn’t help but wish there were some things that remained from back then.
That glimmer of hope spurred him to become mindful of the object he was fiddling with in his hands. He held up a bracelet of years ago, hardly worn by time or by him. He wasn’t sure whether he was still allowed to. It was one-half of a pair, but if its partner no longer existed, then.
However, he never had the desire to throw it away.
The metal charms felt both foreign and at home in his hands as he fiddled with them, the faint clicking sound of the chain barely registering as his mind was in an entirely different place. His eyes focused once again on the charm of the sun caught between his fingers.
If only catching you was as simple, he mused.
Jihoon sighed and covered his eyes, desperately trying not to cringe at his internal monologue, habitually reaching for the Chopper plushie that you gifted him years ago, squeezing the body to diffuse the embarrassment he felt.
He remembered when he saw the charms at some random shop he heard about from others and thought you would enjoy, so he decided to scope it out in advance for the two of you. It was easy, on his way home after spending a few hours on his own to rehearse his clarinet, a regular occurrence.
Although there was no doubt the two of you gravitated towards each other, you both valued your independence and alone time.
──────────────────
“We’re giving us the chance to miss each other, Jihoonie.”
“Who said I’d ever miss you?”
“Well, gosh darn. Guess I’ll cover for you and miss you twice as much.”
“…You’re dumb.”
“Yes. Can I have some of your fries?”
──────────────────
He retaliated by taking the ketchup bottle and squeezing them all over the tray of fries and you immediately retracted, believing that fries should be dipped in its respective sauce (unless they were loaded fries, of course, which warranted using a utensil of sorts).
He chuckled to himself. Fifteen was one of the most turbulent years of his life, but there were plenty of moments (like fries drowning in ketchup) that reminded him it wasn’t all intense.
Your fifteenth year started off with that charm bracelet.
Two weeks before then, you were so moody that he nearly gave you your birthday gift earlier than he intended, just so he wouldn’t have to see you be so upset (for which, he has only a vague remembrance of what could have made you so upset). Of course, it might have been easier if he had simply brought up his concern and asked how you were, but he knew you would have brushed it off as nothing.
He paused.
Did he know that though?
Or did he just assume?
He clicked his tongue, annoyed at his own self-reflection.
Communication was easy in theory.
Application, however.
He often found it difficult, matching your pace.
You were always so quick.
Quick-witted.
Quick to anger.
Quick to assume.
Quick to run away.
He heard a soft knock at his bedroom door (which meant it wasn’t Mingyu or Soonyoung) and he grunted in response. The door slowly opened (that ruled out Seungcheol and Chan) and revealed who decided to greet him in such a manner.
Ah, he was right.
“Woozingi~”
“Jeonghan-hyung.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
Jeonghan moved to sit at the edge of Jihoon’s bed, with his legs crossed. “The members are wanting to get dinner tonight altogether since we have a schedule tomorrow. The staff said they’ll pay since it’s our six years.”
This had Jihoon propping himself upright. “Barbecue?”
Jeonghan snickered. “Yeah, it’ll be good to get ready in a few hours. But I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person since I know you like to mute the group chat.”
“That’s because it’s constantly going off,” Jihoon grumbled.
“Yes, that happens when people are trying to have a conversation, Jihoon-ah. You should try it sometimes. Especially since it sounds like you have communication issues.”
Jihoon winced. “Hyung. Your timing is terrible.”
“No, it’s impeccable. Just not for you. Anyway, a word of advice.”
“Hm.”
“You don’t have to fear rejection anymore,” Jeonghan started, slowly, the words seeming almost foreign in his mouth. “Regardless of what happens with her, you have people in your life that care about you as you are. You don’t have to try and match her. I don’t want you to subconsciously fall back into a habit of appeasing her because you’re afraid of scaring her away again.”
Jihoon blinked slowly. “I wasn’t expecting actual advice, so I’m a little stunned right now.”
Jeonghan chuckled. “I’m gonna be honest. The other members told me to come talk to you because the rest are either too scared or don’t know what to say.”
“Hah, we’re back to our trainee days, huh?”
Jeonghan grinned, probably recalling the amount of times that he was the emotional support pillar of the boys before they each learned to open up to each other. “Speaking of, I remember when I first met you. You were a teen with a cold-hearted exterior and a lot of opinions as well as the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had the responsibility to carry the music of twelve other guys and you had just lost something that was precious to you. You threw yourself into your work and that became your identity.”
“I—”
“I know you’re not that way anymore, but I’m just reminding you that, no matter what happens with her, no matter how she may respond, you aren’t that cold teenager who had to bear the weight all on your own. You’ve grown and are surrounded by people who can help ease the load.” Jeonghan paused for a moment. “Also, if I could think of a member who laughs easily at anything, you are one of the first that comes to mind. So, it concerns me that you haven’t been laughing lately, even when Mingyu accidentally sneezed out his ramyeon noodles—“ Jihoon snorted at the memory from last night. “—and, if I can assume anything about her, I don’t think she’d be very honored to know that it’s because of her. So. Come back to us, Jihoon. If she’s really meant to be in your life, she can match your rhythm. Don’t leave us in the dust.”
“Is this a long-winded way of saying ‘bros before hoes’?”
Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Maybe so!”
──────────────────
“Our Jihoonie~”
The teenage boy grunted in response, shooting up a look at one of the older members. “Is there something that you need, hyung?”
“You speak so formally, it’s off-putting.”
“That’s because someone refuses to act his age.”
“What a tough Busan guy,” Jeonghan teased.
Jihoon’s face twitched.
“Bumzu-hyung is looking for you. Said he wanted to finish up some more lessons.”
“Agh. I knew he was going to have criticisms. I’m barely getting a grip on this music production stuff, so I don’t even know if what I’m making is good enough to sell. Everyone might hate it.”
“Even if everyone else hates your music, just know I’m one of your biggest fans.”
“...If my music is hated, then we won’t make any money, which means you’ll be poor. What? Is it your dream to become poor?”
Jihoon expected Jeonghan to laugh and tell him that he was right and that money mattered. But instead, Jeonghan replied, “Jihoon. Your music is good. And if we don’t make money because other people aren’t able to see it. Then what’s the point? You say that it’s your responsibility as to whether SEVENTEEN succeeds or not, but, we’re thirteen members. Three units. One team. We’re SEVENTEEN. Stop acting like it’s all about you. Maybe my dream used to be becoming rich. But now, it’s just doing this. With all of us.”
──────────────────
Jihoon stared at his hands, at the charm bracelet. “Is it selfish to want this life and her as well?”
“Maybe it is. But, so what if you’re selfish?”
“Isn’t being selfish supposed to be a bad thing?”
“Just hope that she’s as selfish as you are,” Jeonghan shrugged. “By wanting her in your life, does that mean you want to be with her romantically?”
Jihoon paused. “You know, I’m not sure. I think I would be over the moon if we could even just be a part of each other’s lives. To have that line of communication open. But as the people that we are now. I think I’d like to meet the new Y/N. She probably has more in common with the new Lee Jihoon than the old her anyway.”
“You two have grown apart, aren’t you worried?”
Jihoon went silent for a moment, trying to pick out the right words. “Rather than grown apart, it feels like we’ve simply grown in separate spaces, by taking different routes, but our lives seem too intertwined for our paths to never cross again. Plus, she’s one of the few people that I could really be myself around. It’d be nice to have another safe space like that outside of SEVENTEEN because who else can I complain about you all to, that wouldn’t cause conflict between us?”
“Ay. What is there to complain about?”
Jihoon gave his hyung a pointed look.
“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan started. “But be honest. Real talk. You really think she wouldn’t spread it to Dispatch?”
“She has always valued people’s stories more than anything, so it really annoyed her when other people would take out-of-context excerpts and twist them. So. That’s how I know she wouldn’t spread it. Also, if she was that kind of person, she would’ve done so by now. She has a ton of blackmail material on me.”
Jeonghan chuckled. “Interesting. You said she likes stories, so is she a writer like you?”
“Not in the traditional sense. She’s more of a speaker than a writer. In high school, of course, she had her awkward moments like everybody else did, but even then, she was a tier above the rest. I don’t know how to say this kindly, but she doesn’t really think before she talks, but she doesn’t usually have to because what comes out is almost always what she intended.”
“So, she must be eloquent then.”
Jihoon clicked his tongue. “Just because things come out as she intended doesn’t mean she wouldn’t intentionally be mean or annoying.”
──────────────────
“You like unnie, don’t you?”
Jihoon spluttered. Shit, shit, shit. He tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He wasn’t good with spontaneous spoken words, that was always your realm of expertise. He needed time to think of the right thing to say, but you never waited for him. “F-Firefly, I—”
You barked out a laugh, and he nearly retaliated at the harshness. He wasn’t sure why exactly you were being so harsh. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. She’s pretty high up there, above us mortals. From now on, I’ll do my best to help you out, yeah? That’s what best friends are for. Plus, you’re like family, like a brother to me, so.”
Jihoon sank back.
Family? Brother?
He wondered why that left a bitter taste in his mouth. But that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t being called family the highest praise?
So why the hell did that piss him off?
Instead of speaking his actual thoughts, his mouth had a mind of its own. “I can handle myself, Y/N.”
You sneered at him.
God, you were so infuriating sometimes.
She wasn’t like that.
She was the soothing waves of Busan, ebb and flow, constant and expected. She was everything you weren’t. She was older, more experienced, graceful, calm, soothing.
She was beautiful.
But she didn’t have that burning fire you did. Didn’t have him reacting the way you managed to every time you opened your damn mouth or rolled your eyes—there you went again!
What the hell was wrong with you?
Rapid escalation, raised voices. You, accusing him of not trusting your judgment and hiding his crush from you, saying that you wished he trusted you. Him, arguing that he didn’t need to share every little thing, that it wasn’t about his trust for you at all, and that God, he did! He did trust you! Of course, he did!
So, why didn’t he tell you about the stupid crush?
It wasn’t that deep, but you were convinced it was, and he was too tired to even try and correct you. So, sure, he could be “in love” with his noona, like you believed. Because then he wouldn’t have to untangle the mess in his chest. He could shove it under the rug like he always had, always would.
You slammed your fists down onto the table before you walked away from him, in a rampage. Like a damn wildfire trying to clear everything in sight.
You were a volatile thing, explosive, even.
But.
You fizzled out just as fast.
He awoke around midnight to the soft knocking at his window, your silhouette perched on the thickest branch the tree outside his childhood home had to offer. He had half a mind to not open the glass pane but he saw you shiver and his body leaped out of bed without a second thought.
“I’m sorry, Jihoonie,” you said, a few moments after you clambered into his room.
“Okay.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for being friends with me anyway.”
“Sure.”
So, he wrapped your favorite blanket around you, the one he kept in his room for nights like this. Color slowly returned to your face and he saw the stains of tears on your cheek in the moonlight. You muttered words of apologies and told him about your day, not having the chance to earlier.
You were better like this, quiet, but not silent. Like a crackling fireplace beckoning all to come and listen, to be enveloped in warmth and light.
He never once called you his family.
But he’d be damned if you weren’t his home.
──────────────────
“Funny enough, despite the fact that she’s more of a speaker than a writer, even more than that, she’s a listener. She listens to more stories than she tells them. I think that’s helped with her pride. If she knew she messed up, she would always apologize, even if she hated doing it.”
“Well, that’s one lesson you haven’t learned from her yet.”
Jihoon pulled a face and Jeonghan laughed in response. The older of the two snatched away the Chopper on the opposite end and started throwing the doll up and down.
“Alright, lover boy. What I got from this conversation is that you’re still in love with her, but you gotta make sure she’s worthy of your love, alright? Heed my warning, don’t be afraid of being rejected by her. It’s already happened anyway, and here you are: world-star idol with twelve bros behind you no matter what.”
Jihoon cracked a smile. “You’re right. I got lucky.”
Jeonghan tossed Chopper back in his original vicinity. “I think Dokyeomie wanted to ask something from you too, but I don’t remember what it was, so maybe you can go get ready and he’ll come find you.”
“What a useless messenger.”
“Your luck can’t be perfect, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan quipped. He turned to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. “I hope to hear her story one day. Hear her side of things.”
“…Me too, hyung.”
──────────────────
“How much is the corn dog?”
“Hmm… Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”
Jihoon mustered as much displeasure as he could hold in his six-year-old body. “Y/N, you can’t pay with stories, that’s stupid.”
“It’s my shop!”
“Jihoon, we’re just playing pretend,” your cousin added, his eyes darting between the two of you, likely worried about needing to do damage control.
“Hyung, her idea is dumb!”
“Why!” You whined. “People pay with money all the time, but you can get money whenever! I don’t get to hear stories! I like stories! My parents don’t read to me every night like yours do, Jihoon!”
Jihoon stomped out of the playroom in annoyance, ears grated by the sound of your crying and your cousin’s failed attempts to console you. Stories couldn’t buy the new toy race car that he got. Stories couldn’t buy him candy at the corner market near the kindergarten. Stories couldn’t buy a GameBoy.
Stories didn’t matter.
Money mattered.
Still, nearly a decade later, you never failed to ask for your unconventional form of payment every time he took a portion of your lunch. He knew you packed more for him anyway. And he knew you would always ask for a story in return.
And he intentionally packed smaller meals so he could tell you about how the History teacher had botched up his classmate’s test and accidentally graded off by one, about how the clarinet solo he was learning required a finger pattern he wasn’t used to, about how that one guy—oh, the tennis player?—no, no, the flautist—isn’t it flutist?—it doesn’t matter—yes, it does, Jihoon—anyway, he asked out a girl—the senior?—yes—oh wow, how bold.
And you would smile in return, sliding your food choice of the day within his reach.
He learned that you hated money; it was the one and only thing your parents ever gave you consistently. Simply, it was the manifestation of their love (or lack of) for you.
So, he paid you with recountings of the mundane. You never complained, even when he felt as though his storytelling skills were lackluster. He held your rapt attention; your eyes wide with wonder, voice laced with curiosity.
Eventually, he asked you why.
Why stories?
“Because without them, I wouldn’t have learned that you love the X-Men series because of Hugh Jackman, that you prefer winter over summer, that the first ever K-Pop group you listened to was Brown Eyed Girls, that when you tell me a funny story, you wait until I react before you start laughing.”
And you gave him that smile that made his heart stutter.
“Money is everywhere, Jihoon. But there’s only one you. That’s all there is to it. People, at the core of it all, are just stories. So. That’s why. People will always matter more than profit.”
──────────────────
After Jihoon readied himself for the group dinner, he plopped himself down onto the communal couch and found himself scrolling through Instagram. He stopped at your latest post, a candid shot of you reading a children’s book to several six-year-olds, your face aglow with excitement, a high chance the photographer captured you mid-way through some silly voice attributed to the character on the page.
“Hey, hyung.”
“Hm?”
“Can I borrow your microphone for the day?”
Jihoon didn’t even have the chance to think twice before the words left his mouth, “Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”
An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.
“Is… Is this a hidden-camera?”
“...never mind. Just put it back when you’re done.”
“It’s blue, by the way.”
“I don’t care—”
“It makes me feel happy because it’s the color of the sky and of the ocean, which means it can be super calm or super exciting. It’s also one of the colors of our Caratdeul.”
“Okay, Dokyeom-ssi. Get out.”
“Yes, hyung. Thank you.”
Jihoon thought about how, if given the chance, you would ask Seokmin if he liked the paleness of 9am or the depth of 6pm? If he liked the gentleness of serenity or the vibrancy of cerulean? Or if he appreciated all that the shades encompassed before fading into greens and indigos?
But he wasn’t you.
You were the inspiration; the muse.
You were the reason to write.
He was just a storyteller.
──────────────────
“THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS HERE. THANK YOU TO THE PLEDIS STAFF, OUR MANAGERS, OUR CHOREOGRAPHERS, OUR MUSIC TEAM, OUR DANCERS, OUR STYLISTS, OUR CAMERA WORKERS, OUR FAMILIES, AND OUR SEVENTEEN MEMBERS! HAPPY SIX YEARS. HERE’S TO MORE!”
Everyone in the rented out restaurant cheered before drinking together. Even the sound barrier breaking screams of Soonyoung wasn’t enough to dampen Jihoon’s pride and spirit over how far they’ve come as a team. He looked around at his table, several members already seemingly drunk, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Jihoon-ah, make an exception for tonight and drink!”
He shook his head fervently. “There’s going to be several of you who are going to regret drinking when we have our V LIVE tomorrow. You’re going to look super puffy.”
“I can already feel it,” Seungcheol laughed, his eyes slightly glazed. “But the food and the beer are too good to pass up.”
Speaking of, Jihoon made sure to snatch a piece of kalbi to put onto his plate before Mingyu could. The younger one gave him the stink-eye while Jihoon merely smirked and tilted his head back, challenging him. Mingyu decided to change his target and grab at Seungkwan’s piece, who promptly smacked his hand with a “Kim Mingyu!”
Laughter went around the table as they reflected on the last six years, the amount of embarrassing moments that were brought up were positively correlated with the amount of shots that were taken.
Jihoon grit his teeth as he tried not to fold in on himself, remembering how they threw him up as a cheer and nearly ended his life by creating a Jihoon-shaped hole in the ceiling. He was so much smaller back then, easier to launch without thinking.
They laughed about the incident where Mingyu was nearly beaten to death by Jihoon with a guitar, which Jihoon argued that he still believed he was in the right. They discussed one of their first performances as a team, where they performed NU’EST’s “Hello” and they all had helmet hair. They poked fun at Seungkwan for his revolutionary English skills when he said, “are you kimbap kidding?”
They’ve grown so much.
International interviews with BuzzFeed, Seventeen the magazine, and others. GOING SEVENTEEN as a show has grown alongside them, more than just showing Carats the behind-the-scenes, but has now turned to variety that garnered the new fanbase of Cubics, and has been an honest highlight to Jihoon’s career, where they can just go wild and laugh with each other, just as they always do.
They talked about how they used to sneak in food, how they used to help each other get ready for school, how they still have the same playful spirit as they did back then, but with more trust that has formed between them (although, less for Jeonghan since his cheating at games has only gotten worse).
Jihoon leaned back, full of food and laughter and gratitude.
He wouldn’t trade his life with his team for anything.
(Not even you.)
However, that didn’t mean Jihoon didn’t want you to be a part of his already complete life.
He was a selfish human being.
He hoped you would be one too.
──────────────────
May 26th.
Six years ago, “Adore U” came out, marking the beginning of the journey of a thirteen member boy idol group named SEVENTEEN.
Now, here he was, trying to not be bullied into drinking another shot of soju after already consuming several in a short period.
Their anniversary V LIVE ended not too long ago and they did not have a schedule the following day, so the team decided to celebrate on their own, playing Mafia and messing around. A few hours ago, Jihoon would’ve hardly been able to tolerate the noise level, but since his hearing has been compromised due to his heart beating so loudly in his ears from the alcohol, he was plenty fine.
He shooed away his members and retreated back into the corner of the room, pulling out his cellphone and ignoring Mingyu making stupid kissy faces and noises. Jihoon shot him a look of disgust, but Mingyu merely laughed it off and went to go bother his next victim, who seemed to be Boo Seungkwan, a prime choice indeed.
As soon as he refreshed his Instagram app, there you were (with a highlighted gradient ring around your profile picture, your head tilted back with a soft smile grazing your features as you took in the endless sky above you).
He clicked on the circle and saw you and your friends there, a dimmed photo but your collective smiles large and wide. He recognized Hyejin and Wheein easily (the former with a disgusted look apparent on her face and the latter with a deep dimple), as they were two friends who were a common occurrence on your feed.
And there you were.
alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD
The corner of his lip quirked up at the cleverness in your caption.
Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in his system, he swiped up to send a message:
i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan
His brain short-circuited.
Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.
Who was he to think he could directly message you like this? Also, who the hell was he to figure anything about you? He hasn’t even spoken to you. Jesus Christ, what has he done?
Before he could stop himself though, his thumbs decided to speak his thoughts.
sorry that was dumb of me to assume
of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album
What the hell, dude.
You were going to freak out and call him a creep and then block him.
You’ve literally never done that.
He tried to calm his heart.
However, not even ten minutes later, he realized he couldn’t take that risk.
sorry that was stupid
ignore me
congrats y/n
He felt nearly every goosebump that crawled along his skin, creeping up to his neck, threatening to choke him out. He breathed in deeply through his nose, hoping no one bears witness to him.
“Yah, Jihoon-ah.”
His eyes trailed up to see Soonyoung with a look of concern, mixed with a twinge of panic and anger.
Ah, it would be him.
“What did she do?”
──────────────────
For people who didn’t know him, Kwon Soonyoung comes off as, well, not-so-bright.
But that wasn’t (entirely) true.
Kwon Soonyoung was aware.
He knew how to read a room, but oftentimes, he would purposely choose to simply do what he wanted anyway. Hardly did he ever prioritize another person’s comfort and complacency over his expression of his individuality. He knew what it took to be a performer, and he never denied himself the opportunity to be one.
So, him simply staring at his friend in silence with eyes that alone could have earned him his moniker of “Tiger’s Gaze,” was a major indicator that something was amiss.
Also, the fact that his friend was shrouded in near darkness, eyes rimmed with red, only a corner lamp illuminating his pale features.
“She went to America. She’s never fucking coming back.”
Soonyoung tried not to wince at his friend’s broken tone. Jihoon cursed like a sailor when they were trainees, but it was a habit that he slowly lost since he would often be reprimanded for his speech. He had to do the work to censor himself.
Well, the K-Pop industry was not a stranger to censorship, he mused.
“Wasn’t she already at an international school, though?”
“Yeah, but I just… I thought she would come back after graduating from that boarding school, you know? She wanted to go to Seoul National University, but. Fuck, dude. What if I’m the reason she stopped? What if she stopped following her dreams because of me? What if I–”
“She made her choice, Jihoon.”
“This is all my fault.”
“How?”
Soonyoung saw confusion flit across Jihoon’s face, but it quickly settled with a shake of his head. “It just is, alright?”
“Jihoon–”
“I’ll never be good enough for her. Fuck, I just thought if I tried, then maybe I could be, and– God, who do I think I am? Of course she’d never want someone like me–”
“Dude! Shut the fuck up, will you?”
Jihoon sat there in stunned silence.
“This might not even have anything to do with you. And if she really went to America because she’s trying to avoid you, then she’s a massive bitch–”
“Don’t fucking call her that–”
“I can do whatever the hell I want. Just like she’s doing whatever the hell she wants.” Soonyoung’s anger was slowly morphing into rage. Who was this person in front of him? He was so used to the sure, secure Lee Jihoon who would never truly get riled up.
But one mention of you and suddenly he would spiral.
Who the hell did you think you were?
Leaving this man who loved you so fucking wildly, to the point where he was just one moment away from begging on his knees for your return.
Soonyoung felt disgusted, but it was more of a ringing concern in his ears.
“Jihoon, you’re acting crazy right now. So what if she doesn’t come back to Korea? Are you gonna wait like a fucking sad dog out in the rain? Hoping that she’ll come pick you up again? You’re missing your own fucking life here.”
“I just–”
“Yeah, yeah, you love her. I get it. But… If she were to see you right now, do you think she would even want this kind of love? This obsessive, insecure kind?”
Jihoon’s face was now contorted in pain and Soonyoung tried so terribly hard to keep his face neutral. Soonyoung was plenty capable of being a soothing person, especially to his fellow members, but he was so riddled with frustration that he knew that he would come off as disingenuous if he even tried to pretend to be.
“Let her go. If she comes back, then she will. But don’t let her come back to someone who is incapable of even picking himself off of the floor.”
“...Okay.”
Kwon Soonyoung was aware.
Aware of how much Lee Jihoon was in love with you.
Painfully so.
──────────────────
“I just–”
“You just what?” Soonyoung’s eyes bore into his friend’s face.
Jihoon recoiled at his tone. “I replied to her Instagram story and it was some dumb comment, but what if she thinks I’m being too much and she backs off and–?”
“Jihoon-ah.”
“...Soonyoung-ah.”
“She’s human, right?”
Jihoon raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, no shit.”
“Then why are you acting like she’s this untouchable goddess? Who cares if she thinks you’re being too much? You’re putting her on a pedestal she probably doesn’t even want, dude.”
──────────────────
“Why’d you reject the guy?”
You glanced up at her best friend. “What’re you talking about?”
Jihoon cocked his head to the side. Was it already so quickly forgotten by you? It happened at lunch and it was kind of rowdy. Poor dude. “The guy who asked you out to the dance. You said you thought he was cute before and that he was good at tutoring math.”
“Yeah, I might know him, but he doesn’t know me.”
Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys tutored together.”
You clicked your tongue. “Yeah, we do, but. He doesn’t know me. I know him because I ask him questions. I ask him about himself. But he never once asked me a question about me. If he did, he would know that I hate public gestures. He would know that I don’t like receiving flowers. He didn’t even care to ask any of my friends about what I liked. The main reason as to why he asked me to go to the dance is probably because I made him feel good about himself. I might know him, but he doesn’t know me, and that’s one of the most annoying things.”
“What, that people don’t know you?”
“No. That people assume they know me.”
Jihoon paused for a moment.
“People think that I’m this super wholesome good kid who gets perfect grades.”
“Well, one of those things is true.”
You cracked a smile at that. “Yeah, well. The more people assume I’m on a different level from them, the lonelier it is. I just… I don’t want to be lonely, Jihoon.”
“It’s alright. I’ll make sure you aren’t.”
It was chilling, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, as if you knew a secret he didn’t, as if you already prophesied a future that rendered his words empty. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lee Jihoon.”
──────────────────
Jihoon nearly bit his tongue.
Ever since he no longer had the security of having you be by his side, he became exactly like one of them, forcing assumptions onto you.
You were out of sight and he was out of his mind.
He told you that you could always be yourself around him, and here he was, creating a caricature of you in his head that he knew didn’t exist. To push forth the narrative he wrote. One born of insecurity. “...I don’t understand how you’ve been so right lately?”
“I really do wish I had my phone around to record you when you say that,” Soonyoung said off-handedly. “So, you’re not going to try to unsend those messages?”
“You can unsend messages?”
“Uh–”
Jihoon immediately unlocked his phone to go to his messages. There, he saw your chat. He long-pressed the message without much thought and his thumb hovered over it.
But he hesitated.
“...Just watching from afar isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?”
Jihoon stared up at his friend, who had a look of (almost) pity etched across his features. Jihoon swallowed the lump in his throat. “...No. I don’t think it is.”
“Well, if she rejects you in any kind of way, I can comfort you.”
“No thanks.”
“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”
──────────────────
Almost exactly sixty minutes later, Jihoon witnessed a miracle.
“...She replied.”
Seungkwan glanced up at Jihoon. “Who?”
Jihoon turned his screen to his younger member, who leaned forward to read his screen. Only to audibly gasp and cover his mouth with his hands. “You messaged her?!”
“Yeah, like an hour ago. Keep up.”
“Hyung, you didn’t tell me–”
“Ah, Boo Seungkwan.”
The corner of Seungkwan’s mouth twitched and Jihoon merely smirked. He turned his attention back to your messages, smiling fondly at your usage of 🥳 after greeting him a happy anniversary.
Oh shit, wait. You knew SEVENTEEN?
And he portrayed that sentiment exactly when messaging you.
(With some typing errors.)
(He may or may not have taken one, two, several shots once the anxiety settled back into him.)
(His alcohol tolerance was nonexistent.)
The messages were now rapid-fire. He found out that you were a Carat and that you favored Yoon Jeonghan.
He snorted at that, of course you would.
A lightbulb lit up over his head. Ah. He could do something for you.
He jumped up from his seat on the couch, away from Seungkwan who was watching over his shoulder the entire time who chose to remain silent because he knew he would be kicked out if he said anything compromising. “Jeonghan-hyung.”
“Woozi Woozi~?”
“Can you do something for me?”
Jeonghan stared at him, frozen. Then after a moment to process what exactly Jihoon said, the older one crossed his arms over his chest, a scandalized look in his wide eyes. “Depends on what you’re asking for.”
“YAH.”
“Lee Jihoon, don’t yell at someone you’re trying to ask a favor from. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”
Jihoon held his tongue, but his expression must have given it away because Jeonghan laughed and said that he would rather not die, and asked Jihoon to continue with what he was saying. “Y/N just graduated and she basically said that you’re her favorite SEVENTEEN member–”
“WOW! I like her already.”
“Hyung.”
“Okay, what do you want me to do for both my cute fan and my even cuter dongsaeng?”
“Just a video to congratulate her.”
“My videos are rare, it’s not easy to get something like this, you know.”
“Hyung, please.”
Jeonghan cackled, but quickly acquiesced. “Alright, alright.”
Soon enough, he found himself in a rhythm speaking to you. It was so easy, there was no residual awkwardness (on his end, at least) and it felt so natural. The banter was still there and so were your emoticons, escalating from the “:)” of your childhood to the iPhone emojis. You seemed so close, within reach, attainable.
That felt dangerous.
He could feel it. He could feel that desire to spill out everything he could. He spent years coming up with the words he wished he could’ve told you, some of them now award-winning songs, and it feels almost euphoric to know that he could tell you it all.
But.
He wasn’t sure, still. How receptive you would be. Would you run away like you did in the past whenever things became too much, too overwhelming? He always reminded you that you could never be that, but he wasn’t sure whether he was of the same capacity.
He wants you in his life. There is no doubt about that, especially not now.
But what if you leave again?
He cannot mess this up. He can’t.
So, he kept things light between you, jokes and jabs.
But that didn’t stop him from pushing for more, disguised in a (not-so) innocent attempt at ensuring that he would be able to have open contact with you in the future.
And that’s all he needed. A future with you in it.
That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?
──────────────────
Yes. Yes, it was.
After a few days of no response from your end on KakaoTalk, your Shikamaru profile picture almost mocking him with his permanent deadpan look, the answer was resounding.
But Jihoon’s entire identity was based on his stubbornness.
So, he decided to take a chance and message you on Instagram.
Only to retract immediately saying you didn’t have to reply.
Stupid.
Thankfully, though, you responded within 30 minutes, admitting that @narutofanfreak123 was not exactly a username you wanted to share with anyone above the age of twelve. You both quickly resolved the miscommunication (wow, Jihoon thought, imagine if we had this before).
He chuckled at your choice of KKT username, @MadameFirefly, oddly touched that his nickname for you still held enough weight to be your moniker for a messaging app.
He did his best to casually ask what you were planning on doing in the future (not like he wanted to see if he could somehow fit into it, or whatever).
Jihoon was left staring at his phone screen, the weight of his phone now burdened by the weight of your choices. Seoul? Or New York City?
──────────────────
“You didn’t have to miss the dance just because I got a B on an exam, you know.”
“Your parents are insane for grounding you to the library for a B on an exam, you know? And for a hagwon that’s way above our grade level.”
You shook your head, not willing to admit out loud that you agreed. “What I mean is that you don’t have to keep me company while I study when you could go off and meet cute girls and sweep them off their feet.”
“Why would I do that when I can watch you and your snot-nosed face trying to do college level calculus?”
“It’s all so that I can get into Seoul National.”
“Firefly, you could get into any school, even outside Korea.”
“Maybe I’ll do just that,” you laughed. “Finally get out of here.”
“Just let me know and I’ll stow myself into your suitcase.”
“Oh please. You’ll probably be the one traveling internationally doing whatever you do. A world-renowned musician.”
“Alright, you can be in my suitcase instead then.”
“Okay, can you leave breathing holes for me?”
“No, get better lung capacity.”
You clicked your tongue at him and he laughed. “Seriously, though, Jihoonie. You could be spending your teen years the way the movies do it. You could be ‘swearing you’re infinite’ while a slow-mo cam focuses on you as you dance, surrounded by beautiful people definitely too old to be cast as teenagers.”
“No thanks.”
You put your forehead down onto the table. “Please. Do it for me. Get a girlfriend because I can’t.”
“You know, you’re probably why I can’t get a girlfriend.”
No. You definitely were.
You shot him an annoyed look. “You could easily go and find someone who’d be smitten with you. But instead you’re about to watch me get a nosebleed over how hard I’m working my brain here.”
“Maybe I’m a sadist and want to watch that happen.”
You threw your eraser at him, but easily missed, the rubber object bouncing off of the table and onto the carpeted floor. You whined at the idea of having to leave your seat and Jihoon just rolled his eyes and picked it up for you.
Sure, he could be dancing with his friends, with cute girls, with whoever. He could be surrounded by endless snacks and overly sweet punch, the dance no doubt smelling like youth and pride and reckless decisions. He would see that there are plenty of people in his life outside of you.
But, no.
If he did, you would be left here, in this almost deserted library on a Friday, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into what your parents have convinced you matters more than your health.
You gave him a large grin as he passed you your eraser before you went back to focusing on your work.
Yeah, he’d much rather see this instead.
──────────────────
Later that evening, he found himself again in his recording studio.
Our past that didn’t line up,
If I could go back in time,
Rather than roughly, but warmly,
Would I be able to let you go?
He stared at the lyrics he wrote, feeling discontent. He wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t feel any kind of residual emotions towards you. Who would be able to meet you where you were and wish you well, no matter where you decided to go.
One of his biggest regrets was storming out of your childhood home the way that he did. He could’ve had answers but instead he was left with hostile emotions and questions.
He could only hope he would’ve done something different.
But now that he is faced with letting you go, he’s not sure how easily he would yield.
He took a moment to bury his face in his hands and tried to think about this from your perspective (something he had to practice while living with twelve other boys). He breathed in deeply and thought about the you that you are now, about how the person he fell in love with could easily be gone, and you were nothing but a shadow of what remained.
But that didn’t feel right either. It seems as though the person that you’ve grown into, that you’ve flourished into, is someone he would’ve wanted to get to know regardless of whether you had history or not.
Perhaps that is because of the artifice of social media, or perhaps it’s because you carry an air of authenticity with you that has now been given the opportunity to bloom instead of stifled in the environment you were raised in. Whether or not you were mere remnants of his past, it does not mean that the person you are now is any less lovely.
He groaned loudly.
Emotional labor is hard.
How is this something you enjoy doing?
──────────────────
“You really want to become a social worker, huh?”
You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. It feels like the best use of my skills. I like being able to potentially help people like me and well, there are a lot of people like me, you know. I don’t know whether I want to become a private practice therapist, but that seems like a solid option for now until I know more about what else is out there in the field.”
He would disagree, but he decided not to. “I just can’t deal with all of those emotions.”
You gave him a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most sensitive people that I know.”
Jihoon felt ruffled by that. “What? What are you talking about?”
You quickly put your hands up in mock defense. “I’m not saying that being sensitive is a bad thing. I’m saying that there’s no way you would be my friend if you couldn’t handle emotions. I have way too many of them, I’m not that blind to that. Also, I’ve read your poetry and heard your music and that’s some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Like, even the way you hold your clarinet is emotional.”
“I think that’s you projecting yourself onto me.”
“Say what you want, Jihoon. You’re a sensitive soul, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Yeah, well, sensitivity isn’t what gets you awards, you know. Skill does.”
You huffed in response. “Yeah, well, once you build up the second, the first is what will create a legacy that will be one to remember for ages to come. I’m speaking it into existence now. And I lay claim to the title of being your first fan. I will support you the entire way, no matter what you do. Music, baseball, comedy. Whatever!”
Jihoon snorted. He wouldn’t dare become a comedian, but it made him feel good that you thought that was a viable prospect for him. “Whatever industry I’m in, I’ll probably have to protect you from all of the bad people. You’re too soft. Even just last week, I mean…”
“What? You mean, when Nahyun made fun of me during my presentation in front of everyone?”
Irritation washed over Jihoon.
The self-proclaimed It Girl decided to try and belittle you while in the middle of your presentation, as you were explaining the measurements that you used in your findings, she asked whether you had ‘measured’ your weight recently because ‘you really ought to’.
He never wanted to get into a fight more than then, especially when your other classmates laughed along. It was a subpar, typical, low-class mean girl line, but it filled him with rage.
You were completely unphased by it, continuing on with your presentation, not even choosing to spare a glance in her direction.
Luckily, the teacher, not being a prick himself, called out Nahyun and pulled her aside after class to apologize to you. (Jihoon would’ve preferred a public execution apology.)
Jihoon stood just a few feet away as you accepted her half-assed effort. You paused for a moment and muttered something to her, something that only she could hear. Nahyun merely pursed her lips afterwards before walking away. Irritation rushed through him again.
“Seriously, though. You’re too soft, firefly.”
“Hm. I don’t think so.”
“No?”
“No. I just think everyone else is too hard on themselves. And each other.”
“...You’re gonna be a great therapist.”
“Thanks. Hire me.”
──────────────────
Jihoon had his own fair share of meetings with professional counselors (especially in the midst of living such a hectic life as an idol), but he was worried whether you would be as cut and dry as they were, whittled down by years of academia. It seemed almost like they were reading out of a textbook, using vocabulary words like ‘empathy’ and ���self-care,’ so he never saw it fit to return if it wasn’t necessary.
However, the places you’ve poured your time into left only glowing reviews for your passion and compassion for the field that you were in.
Jihoon was roused from his thoughts at his phone ringing on his desk. He looked at the Caller ID and saw a name he has been in and out of contact with for over a decade, it was your cousin. He picked it up. “Yo, hyung. What’s up?”
“Are you busy right now, Jihoon?”
“No. It’s a slower day today. Do you need something?”
“Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Seoul in a few weeks. Your noona and I are planning on celebrating saying goodbye to our single days by drinking way too much within the span of 12 or so hours. I wanted to see if you were down to join.”
“I probably won’t drink, but if it’s for you, hyung, I’ll go.”
“Nice. And you can feel free to leave after the dinner, we’ll just be at an apartment we’re renting out in Gangnam, since I don’t trust those fools to walk around the streets of Hongdae.”
“I’ll probably do that, I don't want to accidentally be caught by Dispatch.”
“Right, right. We wouldn’t want to sully the name of the best producer in all of K-Pop.”
“That’s a title I don’t think I’ll ever get.”
Your cousin laughed. “You never know, you might get that award sooner than you think, kiddo. Alright, I’ll keep you updated on our schedule. But uh…”
Jihoon knew his hyung well. He was about to bring you up again. “What about her?”
“I just wanted to ask whether you’d be interested in a meet-up with her. Not that we’ve asked her or anything, but I know we’ll probably meet up with her at some point, and I know it’ll feel weird if we’re not all together, you know? The four of us.”
“Yeah… I want to say that I’m courteous enough to wait for her response, but I just know that I’m willing to meet with her, if anything. Even just one last time.”
“That… sounds kinda sad, but. I guess I’ll take it. If you’re down, we could even make it a surprise on her end.”
He imagined your deer in headlights look but couldn’t think further than that. “Sounds like we’d really be putting her on the spot, if that was the case.”
“Hey, she’s rarely played it safe. Same with you. Might as well keep the flow going. And if anything, I’ll take the brunt of it all. She can’t stay mad at me for too long.”
“We both know that’s literally not true.”
“Okay, fine. Your noona can take the blame.”
“Wow, very excited to see how this marriage will go.”
His hyung laughed. “Amazingly, I’m sure.”
A thought occurred to Jihoon and he realized it was strange that he was mentioning it as an afterthought, as if it was something to be expected, something natural and normal. “Oh, hyung. By the way, I’m talking to Y/N again.”
Jihoon heard the undeniable ‘beep beep beep’ of being hung up and he stared confused at his phone screen until he saw another phone call from your cousin. He picked up with a, “Hello?”
Your cousin sounded much more flustered than he did just seconds ago. “Sorry. I hung up because I dropped my phone by accident. Say that again. You’re what?”
“I’m talking to her again. Kind of. I guess. Like, Instagram DMing went to KakaoTalk.”
“Jesus Christ, you slid into her DMs?”
“Can you not say it like that?”
“Can you say that that didn’t happen?”
Jihoon relayed the entire experience to him, only now realizing he didn’t even share all of the details with his members because it would’ve been too much teasing fodder from them. But your cousin, his hyung, was the kind of fellow that wouldn’t do that, even given the opportunity.
──────────────────
“Hyung,” Jihoon started one day, across from said person in a local Busan restaurant. “I don’t get how you’re single.”
“Why, you wanna date me?”
Jihoon’s eye twitched and your cousin laughed. Jihoon bit on his straw, the family style meal between the two young men long since devoured. “People compare us, you know.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s there to compare?”
“I don’t know. So many people around us know how cool you are. You’re good at sports, you’re smart, you have a lot of friends, you’re handsome. Everyone always says you’re one of the best listeners they’ve ever met.”
“The trick is to not pay attention sometimes and just nod.”
“I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that.”
“I’m sure she knows,” he laughed. “Well, I'm honored that you think all of those things, but those are all traits you have too. You do realize that, right?”
Jihoon grunted. “Not… really.”
“Well, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean others don’t. My cousin definitely does. She’s a good kid and has a good heart. Same with you. If you ever decide to do anything about those feelings of yours, just know that I approve.”
Jihoon nearly choked on his drink. “Wh–?”
“Oh, it was a secret?”
“Hyung!”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything to her, don’t worry. And if you ask me, I’d say that you’re the only one on this planet that even has a chance. Well, except that girl from the cake shop.”
Jihoon sneered.
Fucking Woo Soyeon.
With her shiny hair and long eyelashes and doe eyes and tanned skin from her beach volleyball playing.
Giving out discounts to you like nobody’s business. Calling you cute and flirting nonstop while twirling a lock of her hair. Saying you’re her favorite customer. He could swear Woo Soyeon would throw a knowing smirk at him every time you stuttered a little too long when saying thank you.
That damned girl behind the counter, the one whose beauty and voice (“It’s just so velvety, you know? Like the chocolate cherry cakes.”) he knew you were smitten by.
She was even taller than him, especially in her heels.
At the ripe age of 15, Jihoon understood what jealousy was.
Because of fucking Woo Soyeon.
“Watch out, Jihoon. I can hear your thoughts all the way from over here.”
“Sorry.”
Your cousin laughed. “Trust me, you mean a lot more to her than cake counter girl. My cousin wanted all of us to go see the Christmas lights in the city together. You don’t see her inviting that cake counter girl, do you?”
Jihoon felt a weird sense of pride well up in his chest. Then immediately deflated. It felt stupid to feel like he won against a person who’s just trying to sell cakes to a loyal customer. “Hyung, how do you do it? You’d never let yourself get angry or jealous over stuff like this.”
The older of the two cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“You wouldn’t get jealous over a cake counter girl.”
“Says who? I get jealous. It’s normal, you know. Jealousy isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just what you do with it, right? Like, just because you’re jealous of cake counter girl, does that mean you stop Y/N from going to that shop?”
“What? Why would I do that? She loves that shop.”
“Exactly. Emotional maturity doesn’t mean you stop yourself from feeling the emotion, it just means you learn how to handle it as it comes. And once you practice it enough, it becomes easier and easier.”
“You make it sound easy, but it’s not.”
“Hey, I’m not anything big and special myself.”
Jihoon shook his head. “Hyung, you’re a superhuman.”
“No, I’m just human and letting myself be that,” he corrected. “Trust me, there’s plenty of good people out there. A lot of them just aren’t making the decision to do so. It’s easier to be cruel, but. I want to prove that you can be kind and still be a man. We get to define what that means. If I decided to be cruel, to become what society says is ‘a man,’ then I have no doubt Y/N would lose trust in me, and probably, all men.”
Jihoon noticed that his hyung stared at him for a second.
“Actually, maybe not all men.”
Jihoon felt embarrassed, but also honored, at the implication. “Thanks, hyung. You know, for not making fun of me. And for admitting that you also feel those kinds of things.”
“Absolutely, I’m glad I could help.”
“I’m seriously still surprised that you’re single.”
“Yeah, well. That might not always be the case if I can figure out what to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well… you know your noona?”
──────────────────
Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the way the events unfolded. Your cousin told him about his feelings for his future wife, but it still took a few years for anything to come out of that. He wondered whether being childhood friends had anything to do with it, as if the longer and deeper the bond, the riskier the chasm was to try to jump across.
However, your cousin still managed to do it.
“How did you do it, hyung?”
“Hm? What’s up?”
“Just… how did you manage to tell noona how you felt?”
The older man laughed. “You really think that it was me who confessed? No, no. It was her. I think she was tired of the back and forth that was happening between us. I mean, so was I, but I was a coward, but thankfully, she wasn’t. Now because of her saying that she loved me first, I get to be the one who says it last. Then we start again. It’s a dialogue, you see. It doesn’t matter who starts the line, as long as it continues.”
“Oh…”
“Am I proud that I was a coward? No. I sometimes wish it was me who said it first so she wouldn’t have any room for doubt. But we can’t go back and change the past, only commit to a better future. All of this to say, though, Jihoon, it’s been long enough of not saying anything between the two of you. I don’t think you want to wait any longer.”
“…yeah. I agree.”
That night, hours after preparing for the album, Jihoon’s fingers tapped away on his Notes app.
This waiting, it’s not easy to endure.
It was past 4am now.
But he didn’t want to wait any longer.
So, he switched apps and instead of a blank Note, he began typing into a message box.
i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am
A response from you was the last thing he expected, but you always managed to surprise him.
The first time he heard your voice directly in his ears, he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. But he tried to keep his voice level as he asked you about where you were leaning towards for your career.
The relief that rushed through him.
The hope that ignited in him.
That was the spark needed for him to explode.
And so he did, into words.
“I’m proud of you, you know?”
He heard your throaty stutter, one that only came out whenever you were really caught off guard. “Uh—what?”
“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea,” Jihoon still couldn’t believe the two of you went to the same school. “You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So I’m proud of you.”
He could barely hear your, “It’s not that big of a deal—” over the pounding in his ears.
“But it is, firefly.”
And suddenly he was brought back to all the years before. Where he spent more years in love with you than not. How that nickname encapsulated exactly as he saw you: inspiration, guidance, hope.
“I mean, I just—”
Your flustered response only encouraged him to continue. “You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”
“Jihoon, I—”
He didn’t realize just how much he’s missed hearing you say his name. But more than that, “I’ve missed you.”
There was a pause on your end, but he was done with his.
“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls—” which he would never admit to being the reason he never wants to get behind the wheel again. “And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly, for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle going down. That kind of stupid.”
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was naming a memory that you no doubt remember as well, it was near traumatizing. But there was something in him that didn’t want you to forget. He didn’t want himself to forget. Because…
If I forget someday, as if nothing is wrong,
Our future will be empty and sad.
It’s not that I want to forget you.
Ah, he made a mental note to switch to his Notes app later.
“I… I missed you too.”
Jihoon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his cheeks, almost to the point of straining them. It was already so late and he still had enough function in his brain to know he ought to cut this short now. Otherwise, he’d be on the phone with you for an ungodly amount of time. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”
“Okay.” Your voice sounded so small, he had to press his phone closer to his ear to ensure he didn’t miss anything.
“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”
“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”
He laughed hard at that. You would say that. “Alright, we’ll just go with firefly then.”
‘We’ felt good on his tongue.
“Night, night, Jihoonie.”
“Sleep well, firefly.”
He told you he needed to sleep, but with the way that he was running on sheer endorphins from finally releasing some of that pressure inside of him, sleep was the furthest thing on his mind. Instead, he imagined you getting some well-deserved rest, wondering what kind of dreams you hoped to have.
You were falling asleep, he was falling in love.
──────────────────
In less than 24 hours, he was going to see you in person for the first time in years, no more needing to find YouTube videos or podcasts or news articles or social media posts.
Tomorrow, he’ll be face to face with you.
And the dorm was in chaos.
“He should wear the white button down!”
“No, he should wear something funky, with cool patterns!”
“What? Absolutely not, hyung! Jihoon-hyung looks best in plain clothing, his skin shines that way!”
“Well, he’s been avoiding his skincare, so that might not be the best route to go down.”
“Hoon is handsome no matter what!”
Jihoon was exhausted. Why were his members more invested in this than he was?
Even Soonyoung was getting giddy. And that was a problem. When it came to you, Soonyoung was his voice of reason, but after he relayed the phone call he had with you, Soonyoung was easily won over by your: ‘I missed you too.’
“I knew it!” The tiger had exclaimed.
(Jihoon wasn’t sure whether he did.)
Junhui was thriving off of the chaos and was now leaping across the wooden floor, with Jeonghan quickly on his tail, trying to coerce him into stopping and failing miserably. Seokmin was still trying to convince Seungkwan that a funky pattern was like how, in nature, peacocks showed off to their mates—“he’s not a bird, hyung!”—while Soonyoung kept interjecting saying that Jihoon was attractive no matter what so he could just wear a plastic bag (which earned him a gentle slap by Seokmin). Mingyu disappeared for a moment after Wonwoo’s off-handed comment about Jihoon’s skin, only to return with his skincare products that Jihoon knew were going to be slapped on him soon enough. Seungcheol kept repeating in an exasperated tone, “Stop fighting, we already got a noise complaint this week,” while Jisoo and Minghao were probably off in Jihoon’s closet trying to establish an outfit for him without his consent. Hansol was on his phone, noise-canceling earphones on, completely uninvolved in what was going on. Chan was only goading on whoever was the loudest in the moment (currently, Junhui).
Jihoon piped up. “Do I get an opinion on this?”
In near perfect synchronization (including the boys in his room), everyone responded with a, “No!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
God, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
[continue reading here]
#lee jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#seventeen fanfiction#svt fanfiction#seventeen#svt#세븐틴#lee jihoon#woozi#svt fic#seventeen fic#woozi fic#mine#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen drabbles#svt fluff#seventeen angst#svt x reader#Spotify#woozi x you#lee jihoon x you
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lucifer stimboard!
I've been meaning to do somethin hazbin hotel related since I finished the show so i decided to make a stimboard of my fav character Lucifer! also i definitely plan on doing the other characters!
(I tried to keep the board spoiler free)
#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar#rubber duck#lucifer is such a theater kid#i love this man sm#Im already hyperfixated on this freaking show#btw sorry for being gone for awhile#I was busy with school and very depressed#Ill upload more during summer <3
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I'm back and I'm not dead (yet)
I discovered Murderbot Diaries this summer and I finished book five and six about a mouth ago (I was devastated).
So I tried to draw the main crew for fun !
I really like the way I drew Mensah and Ratthi. The other are okay, I struggled to draw Murderbot because I usually see them with the armor (yes I'm very lazy for imagine them), but sometimes I make an effort and it turns out to be inspired by Markus from DBH- (hate myself for that)
Anyway, hope you like it ! If I can I will try to draw more stuff about the book because it s so freaking good and I love it so much
#AtalanteArt#my artwork#murderbot diaries#murderbot diaries book#murderbot diaries fanart#murderbot#book fanart#this book is so good#read it#you won't regret it#the main character is an anxious depressed autistic ace killing machine who only wants to watch TV shows in peace#i relate#if anything happens to them I kill everyone and then myself#I think I nailed it for the design of Ratthi and Mensah#my dyslexic ass just realised that it's Mensah and not Mensha#now I will disappear again cause I have work to do for art school#I m very busy so sorry if I don't have time to post
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What do you think Mine’s reaction to Masato / Aoki be like?
tbh they'd probably be. amicable. at the very least.
#snap chats#like they have similar values its just that mine's more openly depressed about his belief system and doesn't take pride in it like aoki#i talked about this before omg thats so funny... but yeah no aoki's more proud of 'how the world is'. prob cause he's 'on top' of it#mine begrudges the fact he needs material goods to be useful to people#meanwhile aoki's happy to exploit others if it means he advances. for the most part anyway#he only really starts to show some regret when confronted by ichi. and get the shit kicked out of him for twenty minutes#wait i was rewatching the cutscene and started to throw up cause i got reminded of me in high school again aoki you're 42 stop this#Back On Track Though. mine and aoki had similar pursuits: attain power to be loved thats the core of it in simple terms#they went about it differently ofc: for mine money was power and for aoki popularity was power. Both Very True TBH but anyway#mine realized that even with money his person wasnt valued#and aoki realized that even with recognition people didn't value his character. sins the arakawas. fcukin dummy#i mean aokis a jackass so no wonder but thats not the point of this. fuckfest of tags#they wouldnt be friends. aoki's incapable of friendship and mine would probably quickly recognize aoki as being power hungry#i think mine's been in enough business meetings And Knows Enough About Politics to recognize Professional Fakerism when he sees it#actually do you think mine'd be swindled by any 'kindness' aoki expressed like when kanda left him and he thought he just went to get help.#that shit was wack LMAO BUT REGARDLESS idk i have to go to class soon so im not gonna spend too much time thinking of this#if they needed to they'd just use each other for whatever purpose they needed the other for. idk why mine would need aoki tho#TLDR mine probably wouldnt think too differently of aoki compared to any other power-hungry freak#we can revisit this topic when. im not learning about JP history vjERJALKJ
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i don’t need a boyfriend and my life is full and fulfilling without any romance! as long as there is a cute boy texting me constantly, going to all social events with me and hanging out with me there the whole time, driving me everywhere, hanging out with me during all our formal events, spending at least three or four hours a week just talking with me in his car, sending me pictures of sunsets he sees, complimenting all my outfits, and going with me to get ice cream and look at the moon together, and he only does all of these things with me and nobody else, i do not need a boyfriend to feel fulfilled.
#what an annoying way to learn i am a Normal Girl kind of!!!#i didn’t think i was but i don’t have a good frame of reference because like. high school. did not want a boyfriend was just chilling#and very busy. college. was so deep in a depressive spiral i had pretty much accepted i would live and die completely alone and men didn’t#even figure into it and i just kind of assumed i would never attract that kind of attention in any way and was busy being miserable anyway.#so grad school was the first time i was like haha! this is how i can live my life happily as an adult! i have just a couple of close friend#and im so happy! i guess i really am one of those people who doesn’t really need romance in her life because im fine living without it if i#can keep my friendships the way they are. and now im like wait so why am i sad all the time now?#and upon further reflection i think everything might just be a mess now because i am stupid literally no matter what way you slice it#pray for me but also don’t take my posts too seriously i can’t talk to anyone about this in person so it’s over represented on my tumblr bl#i mean i do think about it every waking moment but like. im also doing other stuff and multi-tasking
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#warning there’s too many typos but who cares#i’m always complaining to myself in my head about how me & my best friend have grown apart#we’ve spent all out teenage years doing everything together even though we weren’t from the same school#we’d still find ways to see each other if not every day then at least every month#& since she started college & then a relationship & then work we’ve just grown apart & it was embarrassing for me really because i was alwa#ys the depressed never busy always alone type & i always ended up felt clingy when asking to hang out#feeling*#specially because she’s a social butterfly & i’m the one who has social anxiety lol but it was always reassuring to have her by my side#during these social events#then the pandemic happened & after things went back to normal.. i can actually count on my finger how many times we’ve seen each other irl#also stopped texting each other which is an important detail considering we used to talk every single day#especially because she’s like. literally the only person i feel comfortable opening up abt things i wouldn’t tell anyone#so i just feel isolated & a bit lost in life without her presence in it... but i’m just a very insecure human & always feel like the plans#& little dates & things i come up & plan for us to do is just... super boring to her (or anyone else)#so i stopped trying completely. which is sad because i miss her immensely#but last november i went to a festival with some friends but felt super stressed on the first day but tried to hide it from everyone#because i don’t wanna ruin the whole trip by being moody so i just kept to myself#ended up feeling overwhelmed & on day2 of the festival we txt each other bc she’s gonna be there#so i just spent the entire day2 with her & her partner & we all had such an amazing time... it really revitalized me lol#& everything felt so familiar even though i hadn’t seen her since her bday in may..#& idk i just missed her. i always felt like this lack of talking & seeing each other just meant that they didnt like me as a friend anymore#or that i wasn’t worth keeping around... idk i’m always expecting the worse which is so unfair to the other person#i know she loves me & that life happens#anyway all that to say that i decided to stop being a pussy & stop mopping around#crying abt how i’m alone & friendless. & like. just text them & invite invite them to see a movie or something#idk if it didn’t work our 2 years ago life happens i am trying again#i won’t find someone like them that easily again in life i think
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#Tmi#Vent post#Kind of#Me. Unshowered. Teeth clenched. Wearing a hoodie. (cringefail) (I only wear when I don't have the energy for a binder or sports bra)#Gripping the sides of the bathroom sink like a pathetic man in an art film.#'I bet miles Edgeworth from the hit murder mystery video game ace attorney also got worse ptsd symptoms during December and he got through#Law school so I can definitely go to class today. Writing 1500 words in two days is probably way easier than law school. I'm so#Mentally healthy that's why I'm contextualizing my very real mental illness and trauma through a very fictional lawyer. I'm so normal.'#I'm fine its fine I have health insurance again so I'm going to call a therapist today and set up an intake appointment#I'm just exhausted rn#'Logan why are you posting mental health stuff on the internet you hate when people do that' yeah yeah#This is safe though because none of you know my actual ptsd triggers and even if you did I can literally just log off#Anyway I need to put on jeans for class now because I'm at a low but it's not a 'batman pajama pants in public' low. I'm not 19 anymore.#(other people can wear batman pajama pants in public it's just not my thing personally)#(also my symptoms literally only include depressive episodes during December and I've never learned how to handle them so if idk#You have tips on getting through depression finals week™ and your comfortable sharing I'd be happy to hear. Don't feel obligated though#It's not my business)
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youtube
Crazy Ex-Girlfriend accurately conveying what it was like for me to graduate college into a professional world with no upward mobility but A WHOLE LOT of inspirational wall decorations. 🤣🙃🙃🙃
#original#worst part of college for me was the career fairs cause as far as I can tell there was no vetting process for what businesses were there#so I was really really strongly encouraged to go to these things by my parents and professors like every 6 months and it was like...#every single business there seemed to be offering either shitty exploitative low-paying jobs or soul-crushing low-level government work#I guess businesses that offer actually quality jobs just send out requests for applications - they don't send people to fairs at colleges#so it was an incredibly depressing and sobering time where all of this really aggressive inspirational rhetoric I'd been fed my whole life#just slammed up against this very uncomfortable reality#🎵 I AM THE MOMENT. THE MOMENT IS ME. 🎵 😬😬😬#there are jobs out in the world that don't suck ass but the job market is deeply fucked up in general in hyper capitalist america#and I was paying a lot of money to go to this fucking school that was supposed to set me up with a career!#what the FUCK were Teach for America (very exploitative) and canvassing jobs (even worse) doing at the jobs fair for a business school?!#sometimes college is a scam y'all#crazy ex girlfriend#cxgf#(okay well actually the worst part of college for me was the trauma but that was largely not the fault of the school)
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the clock is ticking. we need to get an adaption of tell the wolves i’m home into production before andrew garfield is too old to play toby
#when i say i've been daydreaming about this casting for a decade now.....#very niche posting but i was reminded shawn levy is adapting all the light we cannot see for netflix which depresses me deeply#which then got me thinking about all the books i read in high school that hit me like a freight train#i'll never be able to read tell the wolves i'm home again as an emotionally unstable sixteen year old#but by god can't i get the andrew garfield adaption i deserve#honestly if he was interested in getting into directing it would be the perfect first project for him#andrew call me i can have all your next career moves lined up for you by end of business day#a shout into the void
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💭
#I’m sad cuz my best friends and I made plans to video chat sometime this weekend#and once again it’s not gonna happen :(#this is the second time this month this has happened#I get that their both busy and stuff and will gladly listen to them rant and vent to me about what’s stressing them out and stuff#but it still sucks… one is a teacher but now realizes she hates her job but it’s the beginning of the school year and her first yr teaching#the other is starting her master’s program that I helped her with the applications and stuff and I know she’s stressed/busy with that#then my pathetic worthless ass is still stuck at home with my shitty parents#still no license/waiting for October to apply to a couple master’s programs for nursing… and still very lonely and isolated…#ok I’ll shut up now before I this about all of this too much and before I start crying and become depressed and shit…#squid sister says stuff
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So why do you hate the advertising industry?
Hokay so.
Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.
I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.
I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.
Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.
Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.
Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.
I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.
And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.
Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.
Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.
And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.
Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.
It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.
It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.
And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.
Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.
Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.
However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.
I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.
Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.
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guess who’s finally gonna really try so super hard to learn how to drive :)
#I have my permit for the 2nd time & I am DETERMINED this time man#First I had a learners permit in highschool at 17#I was in a god awful place mentally. A combination of suicidal ideation & intrusive thoughts about crashing kinda made me give up learning#Then I got a motorcycle permit to try and drive a motor scooter#But the safety course was like “hey btw most of the danger comes from cars not paying enough attention to you & you can’t do shit about it!#So I got massive anxiety about it and could only drive on small back roads. + motorcycles feel So Much Faster which made the anxiety worse#I ended up letting that permit expire too#Now I’m finally at a point where I’m not super busy and have less car anxiety and WAAAAYYY less depression#My suicidal ideation is gone & my intrusive thoughts don’t affect me nearly as much#And recently I got more free time for a little while so I studied for the class C permit test again & a couple days ago I passed :)#And today I drove a car for the first time in like 5 years & it was ok!#I have like 25 days till classes start & not really much of anything on the schedule until then#So I’m gonna try my best to practice a decent amount this month & hopefully get a behind the wheels lesson in from a good instructor#And hopefully should be comfy enough to drive to & from school with my dad in the car#I have classes 4 days a week so that’ll be guaranteed practice on some bigger roads#There’s also a few ways to get there so I can start w the route that’s 70% small road and work my way up to practice big roads & freeways#Trying my very hardest to beat the Can’t Drive Gay accusations
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#I love not having any close friends here anymore#it’s not like I’ve ever had a ton of close friends#and the past year has been mostly me and my one best friend who’s still in town#but she’s moving soon for uni and will be on the other side of the country#which leaves me with pretty much nothing#I have some friends who I enjoy hanging with but none of us are super close#I’m more a last-minute passing-thought addition to a group get-together#none of them would hang out with me one on one bc we’re not that close plus half of them are leaving too#and my old friends the ones that moved last year for uni#don’t really talk to me anymore#we were never very good at communicating and I’ve kinda come to terms with them probably being over me#but it still hurts to see on one of their stories that the three of them are in the next town over going shopping and eating a nice dinner#like. no one even told me they were back in town#and like. I want to have friends who I can spend time with. but I don’t have those anymore#my last good friend is moving and while I know we’ll still talk every day it’s still not the same#if it wasn’t for her making sure I didn’t fall into a depressive spiral where I never went anywhere but school work or my room#idk if I could have made it though last year#but now I’m gonna have no one here#and I have a single friend at uni who is in engineering so she’s so busy I never get to see her#and our lunch breaks don’t line up this semester#school sucks enough without feeling completely alone#but now I’ve got no one but my parents and a couple of people that live in my phone#who I love dearly but also can’t really. yknow. get me out of the house or come to class with me#which are the issues causing me a lot of the depression#anyway. not feeling stellar rn#vent#sorry
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Pluto in the houses
Disclaimer. This article touches on unpleasant topics for conversation. Please don't be sad when reading it. Thank you:)
Pluto is responsible in astrology for transformations, death, destruction, power, sex, crises. This planet is one of the most difficult to interpret the natal chart, because it shows skeletons in the closet.
Pluto in 1st house:
1.This is an indicator of mental endurance. Such people have experienced many terrible and difficult situations. For example, the death of loved ones,fire,drugs,alcoholism,depression,suicide attempts. Their life is filled with stages to which they try not to return. What's gone is gone.
2.I noticed that such people always have some unusual scar or birthmark, a mole on their face
3.Such people can really be a leader in a group or is in authority. The paradox is that they are most often not very talkative and energetic and don't like attention, but the people around them respect their opinion and often ask them for advice.
4.They love sarcasm and self-irony, as well as making fun of friends.
5.They have a high sense of empathy for people, so they feel lies or hypocrisy of the interlocutor well. This is a great placement for psychologists, tarologists or astrologers.
6.Most likely, such people have heard more than once that they have a heavy or tired look.
7.Pluto in the 1st house in the aspects with Mars, Mercury or the Sun can indicate manipulativeness, imperiousness and aggressiveness. Before doing this, please also analyse the other placements of the natal chart.
Pluto in the 2nd house:
1.An indicator of a great love for material things. Of course, everyone loves money, but not like people with Pluto in the 2nd house.Many of these people have deposits, are thinking about buying real estate or investing. Don't forget, Pluto is a planet of other people's money, so people with this placement are good in business and sales.
2.With tense aspects with other planets, this placement can mean greed, wastefulness, unwillingness to earn money on their own. Such people like to dream and do nothing.
3.Such people love antiques. I noticed that they can keep memorabilia, postcards and gifts from friends in a box for many years.
4.They always know how to save money. If you want to know where you can buy something at a discount, then ask them. Perhaps such people like second-hand shops.
5.I noticed that such people have faced fraud or theft.
6.Their thoughts often become material. I'm not talking about global dreams, for example, about buying a car. Such people may think about a new bag and get a bonus or an opportunity to earn extra money the next day.
7.Pluto loves change, so it's not surprising if people with this placement can move to another city to earn money. Such people could face difficult choices or risks to succeed.
Pluto in the 3rd house:
1.Good analytical skills. This is a good placement for people working in IT, engineering, economics and psychology.
2.With tense aspects with other planets, it may indicate poor memory, short temper and rebelliousness, problems with focusing attention.
3.My personal observation. This is an indicator that in childhood a person could be bullied, change schools, study martial arts. In general, such people are more likely than others to encounter toxic people.
4.This is a very good placement for speakers. Firstly, they know how to convey their message to the audience. Secondly, they have a pleasant voice (but you also need to look at other placements).Thirdly, such people don't like to be silent. For the same reason, I would advise them to keep a diary or write their thoughts and ideas in notes.
5.This is an indicator of an honest person. He will not lie out of courtesy or for selfish purposes. Ask him anything and you will hear his true thoughts.
6.This is a lover of heart-to-heart talk :)
7.Of course, you need to look at the other placements of the natal chart, but most often such people's brains work better in the afternoon or at night.
Pluto in the 4th house:
1.The 4th house in astrology represents family, childhood and mother. For an accurate interpretation, look at the sun and moon in your natal chart. This is an indicator of parents' divorce, constant moving, strained relations in the family. Such a person could receive insufficient love and attention from his parents. Often this is an indication of strict upbringing.
2.Good intuition. Perhaps someone on the maternal side had esoteric abilities.
3.He likes to do the interior of the house. The house for this person is the personification of his personality. The very type of people who start cleaning if they have a lot of stress or anxiety.
4.It is very important for this person to make friends with his inner child in order not to succumb to his desires. For example, you need to determine what is home and a sense of security for you, what is love and attention of loved ones for you, etc. Until you answer these questions, you will unknowingly create problems in your life.
5.This is a possible indicator of an inheritance or a precious family heirloom (but you also need to look at the 8th house in the natal chart)
6.If the other placements in the natal chart don't indicate a bad relationship with parents, then Pluto in the 4th house may indicate that a person had a strong mother. The child could admire her stress resistance, diligence, integrity.She is a complex, but very interesting person.
7.Such people have matured early. In childhood, they were wise children, with whom adults were surprised.
Pluto in the 5th house:
1.'Sorry,I'm anti-romantic".With tense aspects with other planets (especially Venus) this is an indicator of complete aversion to love. A person is afraid of relationships because of possible betrayal or low self-esteem (you need to look at the rest of the placements of the natal chart).
2.A great placement for actors. People like to watch their emotions and listen to them. Emotionality and a high level of empathy is expressed in artistry, which is noticeable even in ordinary conversation.It is not surprising that this placement is really found in many famous actors (Milla Jovovich, Robert Pattinson, Jon Voight, Lady Gaga)
3.Such a person can really select and create a new personality and image for a particular person, which causes problems in his personal life.For some, he is a cheerful extrovert, for others a homebody, for others an ambitious workaholic.
4.Most often, such people are jealous and demand passion and emotions in a relationship (but you need to look at Venus and the Moon in the natal chart)They want to literally get under their partner's skin and breathe the same air. Their love is constant, but very demanding.
5.Pluto is a planet of change, and the 5th house embodies creativity, so such people can be music lovers, often change their style of clothing and their appearance.
6.I notice that the language of love for such people is a physical touch.
7.A man who loves competitions. Firstly, they know how to win.Secondly, they have good endurance.Thirdly, they do not see obstacles.The only disadvantage is that a person can go against the rules and cheat.It's better not to argue with them.
Pluto in the 6th house:
1.Good immunity.A person rarely gets sick and he is physically hardy.(but you need to look at the rest of the placements)
2.The very kind of employee who wants to improve working conditions. He will not be silent if he is not allowed to go on vacation or on sick leave, not to agree to work overtime without additional pay. Responsible, but very demanding employee. Treats colleagues with respect, but tries not to start a friendship at work.
3.With tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator of workaholism to your detriment. A person can harm his health due to lack of rest and sleep.
4.An indicator that a person may think too much about their health and body. Often Pluto in the 6th house is found in hypochondriacs, people with an eating disorder.
5.Often such people experience impostor syndrome, as they cannot fully accept their achievements.
6.This is a great placement for leadership positions.Such people know how to manage and motivate people.The only downside is that they can go too far and be too overbearing and demanding of their employees.
7.Their emotional state is stronger than that of other people, affects their health.The stomach and skin are especially vulnerable.
Pluto in the 7th house:
1.This placement is most often found in the natal charts of people who have experienced an unpleasant experience in love (divorce, toxic relationships, infidelity, death of a partner)
2.Many of them have a person who can unsuccessfully seek their hearts for several years.
3.With tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator that a person can be sacrificial in a relationship. Sometimes I find this placement in the natal charts of people who have been subjected to domestic violence.
4.This is one of the indicators of late marriage.
5.The 7th house represents not only a partner, but also enemies. Such people could survive betrayal from the closest people, after which they began to experience trust problems.
6.A person who gives good relationship advice, but doesn't follow it himself.
7.Such people tend to fall under the influence of a partner. (but you also need to look at the other placements in the natal chart).It is important for them to learn to appreciate their hobbies, their character and their dreams, and not to change them because of a partner.
Pluto in the 8th house:
1.Fatalist. This man has been convinced more than once in his life that everything that is not being done is for the best.
2.An indicator of high libido (but you also need to look at Mars and the Sun).They are active and good at sex.
3.I noticed that these people always had a case when they almost died. Many of them had an accident.
4.They understood what karma is from birth. All the bad things always come back to them, as well as the best. Their enemies always get what they deserve.
5.Strong energy (somewhat similar to Pluto in the 1st house). During a conversation with them, you can be filled with energy for the rest of your life.They seem to be out of this world.
6.Possible mental problems.As well as psychological diseases (depression, ocd, adhd, etc.), and diseases of the central nervous system.Many of them suffer from insomnia, seizures or panic attacks (but for this you need to study the natal chart in detail)
7.Such a person is prone to hyperfixation on something. It is important for him to develop comprehensively so that his thoughts are not limited to one idea.
Pluto in the 9th house:
1.A person who likes to study other cultures.Perhaps he listens to a lot of foreign music, learns languages and watches travel shows.
2.There are two extremes here (you need to look at the natal chart).Or a person completely denies higher education and believes that it is not necessary in the modern world.Or on the contrary, he considers it the most important and seeks to get several.
3.A person who thinking on your feet.His mind is very active, but long-term memory can often be confused.
4.This is a person who is able to get information out of the ground.A good placement for detectives.
5.I often meet this placement in the natal charts of lawyers, police officers, people from social services.They try to change the world for the better because of a high sense of justice.Often there are philanthropists among them.
6.With tense aspects with other planets, such a person could be forced to move to another country or city because of poor living conditions.
7.A very inquisitive person. He's easy to learn on his own, so don't be surprised if he acquired most of his skills from the internet.
Pluto in the 10th house:
1.This placement is most often found in the natal charts of people whose profession literally saves someone's life (doctor, military, firefighter, etc.)
2.They are very purposeful and stubborn people. If they argue, they argue to the end. If they work, they definitely go for a promotion.The type of person who doesn't listen to someone's advice.
3.Such people tend to postpone some savings until old age.For example, to purchase additional real estate or find a source of passive income.In matters of finance, they think very big.
4.They respect reputable people, but they are not afraid of them.They don't care about your position, job and income, you will always be an ordinary person.
5.I noticed that these people are often stalked on social networks.People admire and envy them a little.
6.Their thinking is very practical.(but you need to look at the natal chart) Their logic gets the better of their emotions.They are not cold-blooded, but rather realists.
7.Such people are more likely than others to face rivalry at work or when applying to university.
Pluto in the 11th house:
1.Such people stopped communicating with people more often than others because of changes in their lives.
2.With tense aspects with other planets, such a person may fall under the influence of bad company or toxic friends.
3.This person believes in lifelong friendship and is looking for someone with whom he will be himself, but instead he is even more horrified with other people.
4.This placement is often found in the natal charts of volunteers, school/university activists. Such people like to work in a team and are often led by them.
5.Such people don't really like to express their opinions in a group (but you need to look at Mercury and the Sun).They would rather choose a compromise than defend their choice.
6.A good placement for influencers. Such people have more chances to gain popularity.
7.Also, with tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator of a social phobe.A person does not trust and is afraid of people.He is comfortable in his loneliness because of trust issues.
Pluto in the 12th house:
1.A person who is used to asking for advice from others.It is easier for him to ask the opinion of several people, think about everything and only then make a decision.
2.This is a good placement for psychologists and psychiatrists. These people are interested in the human soul from a scientific point of view.Perhaps they are fond of philosophy and have read the works of famous psychiatrists and philosophers.
3.The people who keep secrets the best.And their own too:)
4.Such people need to periodically restore their energy while alone and turn off the phone. So don't be surprised if this person disappears for a week, he's just resting.
5.In such people, intuition works most strongly through dreams and signs. Pay attention to information from the outside.
6.Life seems to deliberately confront these people with their fears. Although these people do not seem at first glance brave and courageous, in fact they are very strong.
7.I noticed that such people prefer to work alone.
#astrology community#astrology#horoscope#zodiac#astro observations#astrology signs#astro community#natal chart#astrology blog#astrology notes#fyp#tumblr fyp#viral#pluto#planets
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Pick a pile
What is coming in for you
1. 2. 3.
Pile 1
You are going to be receiving good news very soon this is something you have been hoping and waiting for. Someone is going to be helping you out with something you have been worrying about. This is finally going to work out for you and you are going to see why you had to work so hard for it. Someone here may have braces and you will be getting them off soon. There is going to be a reason to celebrate soon. If you're struggling with your health or have been feeling sick lately, your health will be getting better and improving a lot. Your wishes are coming true, you know what is best for you. Follow your heart, not what other people are telling you. Always remember everything is connected. You may be seeing 222 and 333.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 2
You may like listening to music or singing. I see you being more in the sun and outside. Something's ending and something's beginning. I feel like something has been in a constant cycle and it's finally ending. You may be getting out of winter depression. You may be hanging out with a friend or having someone over. You may just prefer to be outdoors. You love flowers and everything nature, and now that spring is coming, you feel like a new you. You may be learning something new or developing a productive skill. You're taking care of yourself more, cleaning your room, organizing everything, taking a nice shower or bath, doing your skincare, taking a nap, and reading a book. I feel like this new you is choosing peace and self love. You may be a water sign: Cancer, Scorpio, or Pisces.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 3
Someone's birthday may be coming up. You may feel like life is leaving you behind, but you are exactly where you need to be, love! Someone here may love candy and sweet treats. I feel like you have been in bed on your phone a lot lately. I feel like you're going to get justice and clarification about something you haven't been so sure about. Someone is going to make a promise to you, a good promise. Someone may have a black cat. Someone here has a secret admirer this could be from school, or someone in your business or work, but they have interest in you. I feel like you may know that, but you feel that this person is really childish. I feel like you daydream a lot.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
#pick a card#pick a photo#pick a picture#pick a pile#pick an image#tarot cards#tarot deck#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#pick a reading#daily tarot#tarot
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The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.
Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.
Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.
It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.
Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.
So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.
And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.
It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.
He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.
He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.
Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.
The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.
Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.
He can't.
His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.
Lord knows it would be the first time.
The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.
He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.
The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."
It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.
"Yeah. I bet you do."
He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.
"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."
He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."
The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.
The question goes unspoken.
The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.
And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.
So for once in my life
let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time
#inklessletter#ficlet#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#fluff#soft#this is very much unedited so#it's been a long time since I don't write a bit#pre steddie#steddie ficlet#please please please let me get what i want#the smiths#this song is so absurdly important to me
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