hi lovelies!! my name is Stella, and i've always been a part of many fandoms, so i created this blog to share my ideas.
fandoms include: marvel, kpop (nct, cortis, and skz), anime (haikyuu and jujutsu kaisen), reading (classics mostly), harry potter, pjo, gravity falls, rick and morty, dead poets society, greek mythology, fantasy, history, mlp, etc. i love cryptids and the occult, as well as mysteries of the world.
this is my first blog, i have little to no clue what i'm doing, but i'm doing this for the love of the game🩵
... in which you and james are lifelong frenemies. what happens when he calls you one late night?
warnings: predebut!james, non-idol!reader, use of y/n, reader calls james "yufan" more often than not, reader's nationality/ethnicity isn't mentioned but for the sake of the plot reader grew up in hong kong speaking fluent mandarin, heavyyyy headcanons like most of these things probably aren't even true but that's why it's a work of fiction !! a little suggestive, can get angsty
james thought about that night for days. he was waiting for a meeting with the company, standing outside the meeting room. he got there fifteen minutes early and kept thinking about the call, your encouragement, how he knew what he wanted after that conversation.
and god, he kept thinking about that last minute. when you got up to leave, saying your last words, and he stopped you to thank you. your advice deserved to be appreciated. and the absolutely adorable way you turned after that, blushing and muttering under your breath. you left him there, in a park and on a children's swing smiling.
the rest came, one by one, and they entered the meeting room. james sat down, brushing his mildly sweaty hands over his thighs. he'll be alright.
"so, james," one of them starts. "have you made your decision?"
"i have, actually." james takes a moment, inhales deeply, and then continues, "i've decided to join the group three project."
the meeting isn't long at all. james is shown who the other members will be, and he's introduced to the general idea of the project.
he walks out of the meeting room feeling... nervous. this is really important to him, and he can't help but feel anxious about this entire thing. he had a chance to debut before and now he has a chance to debut again. only this time, he won't make the same mistakes.
on his way to grab something to eat, he walks by a café. it's the same one he was in when you walked in after just arriving in seoul. he remembers standing there, thinking about everything. he thought he failed after trainee a.
then he saw you. he thought he left everything in hong kong, and he wouldn't dare to return. he couldn't return as a failure. but when he saw you, maybe something clicked in his head. he remembered the days when you would bicker and he would just enjoy being young and dumb. how time flies. he was glad to have a constant in his life again.
he opens the door to the café without thinking. it might bring some comfort after making such a big decision.
the café is bustling and alive. some are laughing with their closest friends, others look like they're having serious talks with their partners. he sees you sitting in the far right corner, laptop on the table, typing, most likely an essay.
of course destiny would line up like this.
he orders something to drink and brings it with him as he approaches the table, not bothering to say anything as he sits down across from you. he hears the sigh you let out.
"stalking me?"
"no."
"then how'd you know i was here?"
"i had a feeling."
"that doesn't make it better."
james just chuckles. he thinks about the meeting that just occurred. you have the right to know after listening to him that night.
"i just had a meeting with the company."
your eyes flicker up to him, and you stop typing. you can lie all you want, say you don't care about him or his career, but you'd be fooling yourself.
"what was it about?"
"the group three project."
you don't say anything, and you don't ask further questions. but the look on your face tells him he should keep talking.
"i thought about it. i told them i wanted to join," he says. "it's not too late. i'm only eighteen, but i have a little more experience now."
you smile, taking a sip of your drink. you shouldn't be smiling about him taking your advice. this doesn't even mean anything to you.
too late.
"i'm glad," you say.
james nods towards your laptop, the silent question there.
"i'm writing an essay."
"about what?"
you knew you were trapped now. you knew how james gets with his questions. "just something for my literature class. we all chose an author to write about."
"you have literature classes?"
"mandatory for right now."
"huh. what author did you choose?"
"oscar wilde."
"you loved him in middle school."
"still do."
james smiles. you don't read too far into it. you know that, when it comes to james, you shouldn't read too far into his gestures.
james just couldn't help but smile at your consistency. he was still so grateful to have something, rather someone, to keep him grounded. you reminded him of hong kong, even if at the time he was living there, you were an annoyance. looking at you now, you've matured. sure, you still banter with him like you always did, but he can tell high school and university have changed you ever since he was gone.
he's broken out of his trance of looking at you when you suddenly speak up.
"i should probably go. i have practice."
"you still play volleyball?" he asks, eyebrow raised. he's not entirely shocked, you loved the sport, he just thought everyone gave up on their sports for other dreams. he gave up ice hockey for trainee life.
"yeah, i have a game this weekend."
you go to grab your wallet to pay for your drink, but his hand stops you. his hand is warm on top of your own, and the contrast is striking.
"i've got it."
"yufan, don't you dare."
"it's the least i can do for you after being a pest."
you stand there, looking at him for a moment, before sighing. you knew you weren't going to win this.
"i'll see you later, then." and then you're off. but just as you're leaving, the youngcreatorcrew boys walk in, coincidentally. james bites his lip, cursing in his head. great first impression to make, being seen with a girl.
anybody else noticing the "playing" in cortis video titles recently? "playing soccer" "playing basketball" "playing golf" "playing chess"? i'm gonna assume it's a spoiler since they enjoy torturing us with spoilers that we don't notice.
... in which you and james are lifelong frenemies. what happens when he calls you one late night?
warnings: predebut!james, non-idol!reader, use of y/n, reader calls james "yufan" more often than not, reader's nationality/ethnicity isn't mentioned but for the sake of the plot reader grew up in hong kong speaking fluent mandarin, heavyyyy headcanons like most of these things probably aren't even true but that's why it's a work of fiction !! a little suggestive, can get angsty, read previous part (000) for this to make more sense😭
you had gotten the call an hour past midnight.
"what?"
"y/n?"
"what?" you repeated.
you heard heavy breathing on the other end. you wondered what chao yufan could be doing that made him breathe that heavily. when he finally spoke, his voice was shaky.
"can you come over? i just... i need to talk to someone who won't judge me."
you immediately grabbed your keys. what were you even thinking? you grabbed your hoodie next.
"where are you?" you asked.
"my dorm, dummy, where would i be?"
"don't call me a dummy if you still want me to come over."
"just get your ass over here."
you hung up the phone after that.
you hadn't talked a lot since you came to korea. in passing, sure, but you never allowed each other to get too close. maybe it was the grudge you held against him, maybe it was him trying to protect his reputation, maybe you were both just too scared of the chemical reaction that might occure if you get too close. whatever the reason may be, it was enough to keep you two away from each other.
you stop in front of the hybe building, noticing a familiar figure in the distance. right, you knew you wouldn't be able to enter the building and just go to his dorm. plus, he probably shared it with other trainees.
"yufan?" you called out. it was cold out, and yet he was wearing a regular shirt. you scoffed.
"y/n," he murmurs, sounding relieved when he sees you. once you get close enough, you see the state he's in.
his lower jaw is shaky, his eyes are watery, his skin, usually honey tan, was paler than usual. his hair looked as if he had run his hands through it thousands of times. you've never seen him like this.
"what happened?" you asked carefully.
"can we sit down somewhere first? there's a park nearby."
so you did. you had no clue why you were following your biggest childhood rival, but you also knew you couldn't imagine your night going any other way.
you sat down on some swings, the chains creaking beneath your weight. you both ignored the fact that you were probably too old to be here.
"hybe's preparing a new group. under bighit. they've asked me to join, and so did this one kid, martin."
"so? where's the issue?"
"can you let me finish?" he sighs. "i don't—"
he chokes up on his own words, stopping. "i don't know, y/n. i can make my dreams come true, but what if it all fails again? what if i fail again?"
you stayed silent.
"i don't know how much you know about what i've been doing these past few years—"
"i've done my homework."
he smiles gently. "good to know i'm still interesting."
"you're still annoying."
"same thing."
you roll your eyes.
"y/n, i don't know if i can do this. what if it just fails? what if someone leaves again? they've got my dream in their hands, and they've crushed it once already."
he continues naming things. it's clear he's already stressed enough about this.
"but that kid, martin. we've worked together a few times. he's crazy talented. he's so enthusiastic to have me on that team. and there's this other kid, seonghyeon. he's fourteen. they rely on me too. can i even do this? is it too late for me now?"
"yufan."
"the company told me i would be the oldest—"
"yufan."
"i've never been the oldest, that's a whole new responsibility to take on—"
"james."
he finally stops talking. he realises how long he'd been talking, and his ears turn a faint, dusty pink.
what was he even thinking? you've probably got enough of your own problems in life, and now he's bothering you with his shit.
"man up. don't think about what could go wrong. think about what happens if it goes right. you'll finally be an idol, yufan, isn't that what you've always wanted?"
his jaw clenched. you were absolutely right, and he didn't have it in himself to say otherwise. he wanted to argue, instinctively, because he was talking to you after all, but he couldn't. not right now.
"are you worried about trusting the other guys?"
his head turns in your direction so fast it's comical. you were gently swinging back and forth, feeling the cold breeze blow your hair back, wearing a small, smug smirk.
"knew it. you don't want to get attached again."
"shut up."
"if you get attached, you could get hurt."
"y/n."
"you don't want to give them the power of hurting you."
"y/n, i'm warning you."
"am i wrong?"
he couldn't respond. he knew you were right, you were practically saying his thoughts out loud, which is why he was trying to shut you up. he didn't want to think of himself as weak or vulnerable, especially not when it comes to his career.
"think about it, yufan. take that leap of faith."
"and what if i fall?"
"what if you fly?"
you get up, pocketing your phone in the jeans you were wearing. you totally didn't change from sweatpants to jeans before coming here because you were meeting with him.
"y/n," he calls out after you just as you were leaving the park. you turn slightly, facing him.
"thank you," he says, smiling at you. your cheeks turn pink, and you immediately turn around. he's never thanked you in his life.
... in which you and james are lifelong frenemies. what happens when he calls you one late night?
warnings: predebut!james, non-idol!reader, use of y/n, reader calls james "yufan" more often than not, reader's nationality/ethnicity isn't mentioned but for the sake of the plot reader grew up in hong kong speaking fluent mandarin, heavyyyy headcanons like most of these things probably aren't even true but that's why it's a work of fiction !! a little suggestive, can get angsty
chao yufan and you both grew up in the streets of hong kong. he spoke fluent mandarin, but he was often cast out by other kids for looking different. they were just his thai genes, but kids at the age of four couldn't understand that. that was one thing you had in common, though. how cast out the both of you were. though, very soon, he found his crowd and people started adoring him. he started playing ice hockey and taekwondo which made him popular. you, however, never had that same fame. you played sports, but never at his level. you got good grades, but could never beat him. you were kind and generous, but never as charming as he was. soon enough, you started resenting him. you were seven when you started "hating" chao yufan.
he, of course, noticed. he would pull on your pigtails, get weirdly competitive while playing any sport against you, would be all smug when he got a higher test score.
yufan and you would constantly bicker, poke at each other, try to get each other riled up. it often worked, especially before exam season. it had become so routine that you had to bicker with him everyday otherwise your day wasn't complete.
he was fifteen when he moved away. you heard the news, everyone at school was talking about it. that guy was moving to korea to become an idol. some laughed, some cheered him on, but none felt as strongly as you did. of course he couldn't just finish his education the normal way, he had to go on and become a superstar.
you watched the trainee a project, watched him dance and sing with the rest of the boys, and thought "holy shit, this kid might actually make it." he didn't. trainee a was a failure. not that you were watching him or anything. you couldn't care less what he was doing.
then he showed up as a backup dancer for jungkook, and you totally only noticed because your friends pointed it out. you absolutely didn't rewatch that performance multiple times. it was just to analyse him, you swear.
you were eighteen when you moved to seoul. you got the opportunity to go to university there, and you couldn't not take the offer. you totally didn't think about accidentally seeing yufan on the streets of seoul.
though, you did. once. by accident. you were just walking to your morning lecture, getting coffee, when you noticed yufan beside you at the register. you thought he wouldn't recognise you. it's been three years, plus you had completely changed. he's too busy becoming an idol to remember low-lives like you.
"y/n? hey, it's been a while," he says, switching to mandarin with you. you spoke korean too, but you didn't mind speaking your mother-tongue. you missed not speaking it everyday since you had no one here to speak to.
"hey. yeah, it has," you answer, getting your coffee.
"followed me all the way to seoul just to piss me off?"
"you wish my life revolved around you that much," you responded. "have a good day, yufan."
yufan. how long it's been since someone called him that.
you were a reminder of where he came from. you didn't see him as a celebrity. well, he wasn't one, yet. still, you only saw him as him, and not the version the media saw. you reminded him of hong kong, school, his friends back at home, hockey, his first years dancing, and those endless fights that made everyone around you sigh and roll their eyes. you were the eye of the hurricane, a calm in the storm he called trainee life.
he asked around, without you knowing, to figure out why you were in seoul. were you visiting? maybe you auditioned for a kpop company too? he gets his answer soon enough. he scoffs when he hears it. of course you chose to study here of all places.
after that, whenever you saw each other, you bickered. in mandarin, korean, english, passing by each other, you on your way to lectures, him on his way to yet another dance class. you followed each other on instagram. he used his spam profile but you still knew it was him. you posted daily stories of university, the people you were hanging out with, study sessions, fun activities outside of lectures.
yufan studied each story intently. he was invested to see what you were doing, and how you were doing. he knew you didn't find your place in hong kong, so he thought seoul might be treating you better. not that he cared, of course he didn't. and he would also never think about giving you a tour of the city, y'know, to help you.
and, to be honest, seoul was treating you better. you found your crowd. you hung out with girls who were similar to you in so many ways, and you finally built a social network for yourself. professors loved you. you were playing volleyball at a much higher level. god, everything was going so good.
...in which hinata and you were together and during that time, you became good friends with his sister, natsu. after you and hinata broke up, you continued to hang out with natsu, having monthly movie marathons that hinata is well aware of. what happens when natsu sets you two up?
warnings: 2026 (modern) au, use of y/n, brazil!hinata, miscommunication, but great communication towards the end, second chance romance, a little bit angsty, can you tell i love second chances?
after high school, he left for brazil. god, how that hurt. he didn't even tell you. which, why would he? you two hadn't talked in a few months at that time, and he had no reason to reach out right as he was about to leave for good.
it's been a year since your break up with shōyō. it wasn't dramatic, it didn't end in a fight or screaming at each other. shōyō was always busy with practice and he never had time for you, you were too busy trying to hold your relationship together while also struggling with your own duties at school and extracurriculars. you were together for two years when the question finally came up: is love enough? is loving each other enough to keep going, to keep trying even when there's nothing left to fight for?
though, you and natsu never had issues. the girl loved you and practically called you crying when shōyō told her about the break up. she didn't want to lose you, you became as familiar to her as you were familiar to him. their mum loved you. you were supposed to be their sister-in-law and daughter-in-law, respectively. until practice became more important, until late night calls turned into last minute texts, cancelling dates, arguing over little things, shōyō's and your own desperate tries to keep each other close, but it was inevitable.
you hadn't dated since. not because you didn't want to. at times, you had late nights and walks back home where you wished you had someone. and not just anyone.
natsu was the connective tissue between you and shōyō. he knew about the monthly movie marathons, and he never tried to stop you, even when they were at the hinata place. maybe he wanted to see you, but you couldn't allow yourself to be that delusional.
it's been a little over a year since the break up. you and shōyō still wished each other happy birthdays, happy holidays, happy new year, you still watched his stories on instagram and wondered how brazil was treating him.
what you didn't know was that he was coming back to japan.
who did know? natsu.
it was supposed to be a regular movie night. you and natsu texted about it, talked about watching to all the boys i've loved before, finishing the whole trilogy in one night.
you showed up to the hinata house, the familiar scent engulfing you. it's been a year since you were near shōyō, you couldn't identify his scent immediately. but when you walked into the living room, it became more apparent. it was slightly citrusy mixed with the scent of his laundry detergent. you thought you were going insane. natsu wasn't there yet, but you could hear the water in the bathroom running so you decided she was just washing off.
until shōyō walked out. you both stood there, eyes wide.
now listen, shōyō was always unbelievably attractive to you, but now? sunkissed skin, muscles built, slightly taller, his face more mature?
you felt that same feeling in your chest. the one that came four years ago when you met him. your english teacher begged you to help him, and it was only the second week of school. god, he was helpless, but he was so hard working, in love with volleyball, and, worst of all, so in love with you.
by the end of your first year, you were official. you stayed through late practices, empty promises, bad communication on both ends, wins filled with ecstasy, losses filled with agony, kisses filled with love and silence filled with resentment.
and now you both stood here, a year after the break up, a year after not seeing each other, a year across the world. you were in college, doing great. he was training harder than ever in brazil.
"what are you doing here?" shōyō asks. not accusatory, not angry, just... shocked. surprised. flabbergasted, some might say.
"movie night with natsu," you responded.
"she's not home." shōyō turns around, trying not to stare at you. you have gotten even prettier during this year, he wonders what has you glowing like that.
"what?" you asked. you questioned if you got the date wrong, but you were sure it said friday. movie nights were always friday. you even remember the message she sent, asking if friday worked for you. no matter how busy you were, you made time for her.
"said she's not home. she'll be here soon, though." shōyō coughs, sitting down in the living room. his hair was still slightly damp after his shower.
you also sit down, but on the other end of the couch. you couldn't get too close.
"when did you, uhm... when did you come back?"
dear reader, it was too awkward in this room. the spacious living room suddenly felt crammed with no air, two people sitting with unsaid feelings, thoughts that were never explained, questions that were never answered, and love that never wavered, even to this day.
"yesterday. missed japan and my family," he answered, fiddling with his fingers. you knew that habit all too well. he used to play with your fingers before games and important exams.
"how's brazil?" you asked, anything to keep it from getting even more awkward, if that was possible.
"beautiful. the beaches are unreal, and their volleyball is next level. they've got great food, too." he doesn't mention what it was like coming home to an empty apartment, looking at his lockscreen of his friends and throwing his phone across the room, missing them, his mum, his sister, you. distance made the break up even worse. he knew you were still close to natsu, and he always asked her for updates on you. natsu called him desperate and a scaredy-cat.
"how's college?" he asked, looking at you for the first time. you didn't look back. you couldn't.
"great. everyone's amazing. it can get hectic, but i enjoy the work."
"you always did."
this is what you were scared of. getting back into your old rhythm. talking about old times. it seems as if shōyō doesn't even notice what he said until it's too late.
natsu comes back, and immediately stops at the door when she notices you and shōyō sitting. shoulders tight, postures straight. he was still looking at you like he did back then.
"hey!" she startles the both of you. before you can get up to greet her, shōyō passes by you.
"i'd love to catch up. can we talk over coffee?"
you didn't even hesitate. "yeah, of course."
natsu smiles. she was late on purpose. she wanted you and shōyō to have some time alone. she can't stand seeing her brother and best friend so... well, there's not a word for this, is there? two hearts, beating in perfect synchronization, still so in love, yet absolutely stupid.
you got the message later that night.
xxx-xxxx-xxx: y/n?
xxx-xxxx-xxx: it's shōyō
you: yeah?
shōyō: can we meet up tomorrow morning?
shōyō: our usual café
you knew you shouldn't go back to that place. you shouldn't sit at that old booth you always sat at. but you couldn't deny him.
you: yeah i'm down
you: just text me when you get there
"shōyō reacted '❤️' to your message."
you get the text the next morning.
shōyō: i'm five minutes away
you just liked the message. the café was five minutes away from your place, so you quickly ran out to meet him there.
you could always tell when he was nervous. and right now? he's worse than when he played his first nationals.
you sat at that old, cursed booth. ordered your same old drinks. even the barista was the same, and she smiled seeing you two together. little did she know.
you talked about everything and nothing. you talked about college, your curriculum, seeing kageyama at the grocery store a month ago and catching up with him. shōyō's jaw tightened at that.
he talked about brazil, volleyball, the beaches, becoming good friends with oikawa and how he had to learn portuguese. he hasn't lost his spark, but he's definitely more mature now. you can see it. but he still has that same childlike joy when talking about volleyball.
"y/n, the reason i wanted to meet up," he started. "brazil didn't make the break up easier. i thought it would."
you stay quiet. you can see there's a lot weighing on his mind at the moment, and on his chest.
"when i left, i begged natsu to keep updating me on you. i know how bad that sounds, but i couldn't not know what was going on with you." he raises his brows, chuckling at himself. "the women in brazil are beautiful, the nature is too, their food is great, but all i could think about was how i would enjoy it even more if you were there. coming back from work every night, feeling how empty the apartment was, how alone i was, nothing felt right about it. you should've been there."
you stay silent. not by choice this time, but because you don't know how to respond.
"i remember oikawa telling me how pathetic i was. he meant well, i know, but he was so sick and tired of me getting homesick and wanting to come back to you." he stopped talking after that.
"i can't promise i'm a changed man, y/n. i still overwork myself. i still forget to look at the clock while at practice. i still love you. none of that's changed. just... please tell me you haven't changed that much either."
you think over your words once, twice, a thousand times. he's patient, looking at you as if his heart will shatter or resurrect itself depending on your response.
"shō, i knew you wouldn't change," you started. "i always loved how hard-working and determined you were. i would never change that about you. i'm glad you chose your career, because at the end of the day i did too."
"y/n," he murmurs. you knew what he wanted to ask.
"i still love you, shōyō. that'll never change. but is love enough? can we keep this going if you go back to brazil?"
"i'm not going back to brazil," he immediately said. "i won't leave again, i promise. i've already talked to my family and kageyama, i'm staying. i'm still young, y/n, but that doesn't mean i want to risk my future."
"your future?" you questioned.
"you."
you both stayed silent.
"just let me prove myself. i won't make stupid, empty promises. but i'm not the exact same as i was back then. please?"
...in which hinata and you were together and during that time, you became good friends with his sister, natsu. after you and hinata broke up, you continued to hang out with natsu, having monthly movie marathons that hinata is well aware of. what happens when natsu sets you two up?
warnings: 2026 (modern) au, use of y/n, brazil!hinata, miscommunication, but great communication towards the end, second chance romance, a little bit angsty, can you tell i love second chances?
after high school, he left for brazil. god, how that hurt. he didn't even tell you. which, why would he? you two hadn't talked in a few months at that time, and he had no reason to reach out right as he was about to leave for good.
it's been a year since your break up with shōyō. it wasn't dramatic, it didn't end in a fight or screaming at each other. shōyō was always busy with practice and he never had time for you, you were too busy trying to hold your relationship together while also struggling with your own duties at school and extracurriculars. you were together for two years when the question finally came up: is love enough? is loving each other enough to keep going, to keep trying even when there's nothing left to fight for?
though, you and natsu never had issues. the girl loved you and practically called you crying when shōyō told her about the break up. she didn't want to lose you, you became as familiar to her as you were familiar to him. their mum loved you. you were supposed to be their sister-in-law and daughter-in-law, respectively. until practice became more important, until late night calls turned into last minute texts, cancelling dates, arguing over little things, shōyō's and your own desperate tries to keep each other close, but it was inevitable.
you hadn't dated since. not because you didn't want to. at times, you had late nights and walks back home where you wished you had someone. and not just anyone.
natsu was the connective tissue between you and shōyō. he knew about the monthly movie marathons, and he never tried to stop you, even when they were at the hinata place. maybe he wanted to see you, but you couldn't allow yourself to be that delusional.
it's been a little over a year since the break up. you and shōyō still wished each other happy birthdays, happy holidays, happy new year, you still watched his stories on instagram and wondered how brazil was treating him.
what you didn't know was that he was coming back to japan.
who did know? natsu.
it was supposed to be a regular movie night. you and natsu texted about it, talked about watching to all the boys i've loved before, finishing the whole trilogy in one night.
you showed up to the hinata house, the familiar scent engulfing you. it's been a year since you were near shōyō, you couldn't identify his scent immediately. but when you walked into the living room, it became more apparent. it was slightly citrusy mixed with the scent of his laundry detergent. you thought you were going insane. natsu wasn't there yet, but you could hear the water in the bathroom running so you decided she was just washing off.
until shōyō walked out. you both stood there, eyes wide.
now listen, shōyō was always unbelievably attractive to you, but now? sunkissed skin, muscles built, slightly taller, his face more mature?
you felt that same feeling in your chest. the one that came four years ago when you met him. your english teacher begged you to help him, and it was only the second week of school. god, he was helpless, but he was so hard working, in love with volleyball, and, worst of all, so in love with you.
by the end of your first year, you were official. you stayed through late practices, empty promises, bad communication on both ends, wins filled with ecstasy, losses filled with agony, kisses filled with love and silence filled with resentment.
and now you both stood here, a year after the break up, a year after not seeing each other, a year across the world. you were in college, doing great. he was training harder than ever in brazil.
"what are you doing here?" shōyō asks. not accusatory, not angry, just... shocked. surprised. flabbergasted, some might say.
"movie night with natsu," you responded.
"she's not home." shōyō turns around, trying not to stare at you. you have gotten even prettier during this year, he wonders what has you glowing like that.
"what?" you asked. you questioned if you got the date wrong, but you were sure it said friday. movie nights were always friday. you even remember the message she sent, asking if friday worked for you. no matter how busy you were, you made time for her.
"said she's not home. she'll be here soon, though." shōyō coughs, sitting down in the living room. his hair was still slightly damp after his shower.
you also sit down, but on the other end of the couch. you couldn't get too close.
"when did you, uhm... when did you come back?"
dear reader, it was too awkward in this room. the spacious living room suddenly felt crammed with no air, two people sitting with unsaid feelings, thoughts that were never explained, questions that were never answered, and love that never wavered, even to this day.
"yesterday. missed japan and my family," he answered, fiddling with his fingers. you knew that habit all too well. he used to play with your fingers before games and important exams.
"how's brazil?" you asked, anything to keep it from getting even more awkward, if that was possible.
"beautiful. the beaches are unreal, and their volleyball is next level. they've got great food, too." he doesn't mention what it was like coming home to an empty apartment, looking at his lockscreen of his friends and throwing his phone across the room, missing them, his mum, his sister, you. distance made the break up even worse. he knew you were still close to natsu, and he always asked her for updates on you. natsu called him desperate and a scaredy-cat.
"how's college?" he asked, looking at you for the first time. you didn't look back. you couldn't.
"great. everyone's amazing. it can get hectic, but i enjoy the work."
"you always did."
this is what you were scared of. getting back into your old rhythm. talking about old times. it seems as if shōyō doesn't even notice what he said until it's too late.
natsu comes back, and immediately stops at the door when she notices you and shōyō sitting. shoulders tight, postures straight. he was still looking at you like he did back then.
"hey!" she startles the both of you. before you can get up to greet her, shōyō passes by you.
"i'd love to catch up. can we talk over coffee?"
you didn't even hesitate. "yeah, of course."
natsu smiles. she was late on purpose. she wanted you and shōyō to have some time alone. she can't stand seeing her brother and best friend so... well, there's not a word for this, is there? two hearts, beating in perfect synchronization, still so in love, yet absolutely stupid.
you got the message later that night.
xxx-xxxx-xxx: y/n?
xxx-xxxx-xxx: it's shōyō
you: yeah?
shōyō: can we meet up tomorrow morning?
shōyō: our usual café
you knew you shouldn't go back to that place. you shouldn't sit at that old booth you always sat at. but you couldn't deny him.
you: yeah i'm down
you: just text me when you get there
"shōyō reacted '❤️' to your message."
you get the text the next morning.
shōyō: i'm five minutes away
you just liked the message. the café was five minutes away from your place, so you quickly ran out to meet him there.
you could always tell when he was nervous. and right now? he's worse than when he played his first nationals.
you sat at that old, cursed booth. ordered your same old drinks. even the barista was the same, and she smiled seeing you two together. little did she know.
you talked about everything and nothing. you talked about college, your curriculum, seeing kageyama at the grocery store a month ago and catching up with him. shōyō's jaw tightened at that.
he talked about brazil, volleyball, the beaches, becoming good friends with oikawa and how he had to learn portuguese. he hasn't lost his spark, but he's definitely more mature now. you can see it. but he still has that same childlike joy when talking about volleyball.
"y/n, the reason i wanted to meet up," he started. "brazil didn't make the break up easier. i thought it would."
you stay quiet. you can see there's a lot weighing on his mind at the moment, and on his chest.
"when i left, i begged natsu to keep updating me on you. i know how bad that sounds, but i couldn't not know what was going on with you." he raises his brows, chuckling at himself. "the women in brazil are beautiful, the nature is too, their food is great, but all i could think about was how i would enjoy it even more if you were there. coming back from work every night, feeling how empty the apartment was, how alone i was, nothing felt right about it. you should've been there."
you stay silent. not by choice this time, but because you don't know how to respond.
"i remember oikawa telling me how pathetic i was. he meant well, i know, but he was so sick and tired of me getting homesick and wanting to come back to you." he stopped talking after that.
"i can't promise i'm a changed man, y/n. i still overwork myself. i still forget to look at the clock while at practice. i still love you. none of that's changed. just... please tell me you haven't changed that much either."
you think over your words once, twice, a thousand times. he's patient, looking at you as if his heart will shatter or resurrect itself depending on your response.
"shō, i knew you wouldn't change," you started. "i always loved how hard-working and determined you were. i would never change that about you. i'm glad you chose your career, because at the end of the day i did too."
"y/n," he murmurs. you knew what he wanted to ask.
"i still love you, shōyō. that'll never change. but is love enough? can we keep this going if you go back to brazil?"
"i'm not going back to brazil," he immediately said. "i won't leave again, i promise. i've already talked to my family and kageyama, i'm staying. i'm still young, y/n, but that doesn't mean i want to risk my future."
"your future?" you questioned.
"you."
you both stayed silent.
"just let me prove myself. i won't make stupid, empty promises. but i'm not the exact same as i was back then. please?"
... in which you and barty broke up and he's doing everything he can to get you back, even if it means changing himself completely.
warnings: modern au, barty crouch jr is a smoker and an alcoholic, sometimes a douchebag, not angsty enough to be labeled, "leslie's" is a coffee shop name i came up with on the spot, it's 2am and I can't sleep, use of Y/N, barty makes reader cry, mentions of lily, marlene, regulus, and evan.
you were sitting in your dimly lit apartment. you hated bright lights since they gave you migraines, so you just gave up on white overhead lights. lamps and candles are always lit at your place.
you were cleaning the bathroom. whenever your thoughts would wander, you decide to clean. it made you feel productive enough to forget barty.
ah, there it is again. his name. it came up whenever you allowed yourself to think for a moment.
barty and you broke up because he was toxic, and you couldn't handle it anymore. all of your friends hated him and told you to leave him months prior to the actual break up.
what actually happened? he came home one night, drunk and beaten up, and you were still awake. you could never sleep during one of his "night outs" with regulus and evan. he was giggling, swaying, putting his entire bodyweight onto you. his black hair was splayed across your shoulder.
too drunk to notice you were crying.
you decided to talk it out in the morning. he had a massive headache and he couldn't remember a single thing from the night before.
"barty?"
"who's barty?"
"you, idiot."
"i'm not barty. you never call me that."
you hated how you could see the face of the love of your life crumple.
"we need to talk."
"talking" actually ended up turning into a heated argument that ended with your tears and you stomping out of your shared apartment. his apartment.
you shook your head. ignore those thoughts. it's been seven months, you're better off without him.
the music that was playing from your phone was, rudely, interrupted by a notification.
you knew your friends would kill you for this. lily will have your head on a stick, and marlene will threaten to kill barty. but good lord how could you deny him when he sweet talks you like that?
you agree to meet up. thursday, 7pm, he said he wouldn't be late.
he showed up to your apartment after insisting you give him the address. another very dumb decision.
what shocked you was how he showed up.
he didn't show up in ripped jeans and a band tee with a spiky bracelet and his hair a mess. he showed up in a tailored suit, hair perfectly slicked with gel, an expensive cologne radiating off him (which wasn't new, he always smelled expensive).
you nearly slammed the door in his face.
"barty."
"princess."
"what the fuck are you wearing?"
"i thought you'd like it."
you just hummed. you couldn't argue with him when he's already smirking, and he just got here. you'll have time to argue later.
💚
as your "date" went on... well, a casual meet up, it was; that's what you told everyone, including yourself; you started noticing things. how he tried to sit up straighter, how he cracked his knuckles every time he wanted to curse, how he tapped his foot anxiously against the floor which you knew was because he was experiencing nicotine withdrawal.
oh yeah, that was another thing. he hasn't touched the cigarette pack that's been peeking out of his bag the entire time.
and suddenly, this new barty wasn't someone you wanted to be with. suddenly, you missed the cigarette smoke, you missed the late nights when he would drink, you missed making out in alleyways. suddenly, this man that you prayed for desperately wasn't your barty anymore.
"what the fuck happened to you?"
"to me? what do you mean?"
"barty, you know exactly what i mean. look at you. you're wearing a suit, your hair isn't all over the place, you're sitting up straight, you're not cursing, you're not smoking, you don't reek of alcohol. this isn't the barty i know."
his eyes narrowed. "the barty you knew, you hated. you wanted me to change."
"and you're changing for me?"
"isn't that what you wanted?"
"you're killing yourself to be with me."
"being without you is killing me more."
you couldn't respond to that. you brushed your finger against the inside of your eye, catching a tear before it can fall.
"i never wanted you to change. maybe at one point, but after that, i started missing those things. those things make you you. i can't be with you again without all of that." you sighed softly, shaking your head. "i'm sorry for being an idiot. i just wished my boyfriend was my boyfriend more often."
he smirks, the gentle lift of the left side of his lips revealing a small dimple. he reaches into his bag, finally grabbing his cigarettes. he offers you one, and you accept it.
"thank fuck," he says. "i was starting to get restless."
and its not like he doesn’t know what it means, HE IS NOT STUPID HE IS AN ADULT WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH
he left his successful group to make christian music and it’s so obvious who he’s catering to
when he left, i wanted to support him but i refuse to support someone who aligns themselves with beliefs that caused a detrimental impact and effect on poc in america
i'm back from the dead to talk about mark lee wearing the confederate flag. as someone who used to bias mark, i'm so shocked because i keep seeing people defending him and excusing what he's done. even if a stylist picked his outfit, he's nearly 27 and grew up in north america, mf KNOWS what that is. i'm european and they teach us at school. he's a grown man, there's no excusing blatant racism and white supremacy, even though he's an asian man, and how hard he's trying to fit into the whole aesthetic of conservative american white men.
if this was wonyoung, karina, jennie, y'all would've chewed them up and spit them out easily. if this was tarzzan good lord y'all would've had his head on a stick. let's stop worshipping idols. it's not hard to stop listening to someone.
- sincerely, a former mark lee biased girl, someone who had their life saved by his music, and someone who had seven posters of him (all now taken down).
i'm back from the dead to talk about mark lee wearing the confederate flag. as someone who used to bias mark, i'm so shocked because i keep seeing people defending him and excusing what he's done. even if a stylist picked his outfit, he's nearly 27 and grew up in north america, mf KNOWS what that is. i'm european and they teach us at school. he's a grown man, there's no excusing blatant racism and white supremacy, even though he's an asian man, and how hard he's trying to fit into the whole aesthetic of conservative american white men.
if this was wonyoung, karina, jennie, y'all would've chewed them up and spit them out easily. if this was tarzzan good lord y'all would've had his head on a stick. let's stop worshipping idols. it's not hard to stop listening to someone.
- sincerely, a former mark lee biased girl, someone who had their life saved by his music, and someone who had seven posters of him (all now taken down).
