[velvethana]

⠀⠀“⠀⠀You’re ⠀on ⠀⠀with ⠀⠀Cupid!⠀⠀Let ⠀⠀me⠀⠀ask ⠀⠀caller⠀⠀,⠀⠀what⠀⠀matters⠀⠀to⠀⠀your⠀⠀heart? ”⠀ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

masterlists.⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ latest. ♡⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀requests: closed.

જ⁀➴♡ 19.⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀txt ult.⠀⠀⠀ ⠀she/her.

𓏲 ♡ ˖ ⠀이젠 집어쳐 ⠀ Love⠀⠀⠀you ⠀ , ⠀⠀love ⠀ you ⠀⠀, ⠀ love ⠀⠀you— ⠀no ⠀ matter ⠀⠀what ⠀⠀I ⠀do! ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ♡ 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ☾

[velvethana]

Dark Room ⭒ the best of the best.

The heart of the bustling art scene was hard to stay afloat in, especially in a world as colorful as yours. Soobin finds himself entangled in a complex web of emotions when it comes to his world and more specifically: you. Exhausted of his state of denial, his Pokémon decide to pull together a plan to bring the two of you closer and get him to acknowledge your artistry as well as his true feelings.

જ⁀➴♡ wc 5k ✧ fluff

“She didn’t beat me because I let her! It’s because—”

“Yeah, yeah. Your Mareanie was no match for her… what is it? Gardevoir?” Yeonjun continued painting his nails, balancing on his knee as he stared off at Soobin’s Mareanie who was a few feet away munching on some random berries it had found.

When it started shaking violently as if it was being electrocuted, he narrowed his eyes. “That things not very bright, is it…” the tone of his voice was much more matter of fact rather than posing an actual question.

Soobin shot him a glare, shaking his head as Mareanie happily continued combing through nearby bushes to find things to snack on. It was certainly a curious Pokémon, not very similar to his others.

In all honesty, he’s unsure how he even got it to stick around. Standing barefoot on the beach, he was practically jump-scared by it creeping up on him curiously. Despite their normally unfriendly nature, this one in particular seemed to attach onto him for some reason.

“It’s just.. strong! She trains a lot, yeah? So I didn’t really lose, if I spent half as much time as she did wandering around regions then I’m sure I’d be even stronger!”

“Right…” Yeonjun trailed off, seemingly disinterested in Soobin’s argument as he tried to perform mental gymnastics to explain how he had really won.

Tangled in the sea of wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze, his Jigglypuff pranced around happily as Soobin’s Mareanie chased after it.

Soobin tried to regain his focus as he looked down at the palette in his hand, colors bleeding together with time. The brush in his hand was still and his eyes were practically burning holes into the blank slate.

Curled up by his feet, Soobin’s Smeargle stretches its’ body out comfortably in its’ sleep. “If you’re so convinced that you can beat her with enough practice then, why don’t you?”

Yeonjun looks over to see Soobin’s confused expression. “Practice, I mean.”

“Well, it’s not that I have to beat her…”

While that wasn’t a lie, it would be one to say that you constantly beating Soobin didn’t irk him slightly. Although he tries for the most part to not be very competitive with his Pokémon, his losing streak began to get on his nerves.

In more ways than one, you seemed to overshadow him. Even in the world of art that the two of you shared, your photographs were gaining recognition in record time thanks to your excellent networking skills.

It would be admirable if it weren’t so frustrating, especially with him seeing you in everything around him.

Yeonjun’s childhood friend, successful photographer and undeniably strong trainer: you seemed to have it all.

Blazing through regions non-stop with an intense work ethic and precise skill that Soobin couldn’t quite replicate.

Wrapped up in his thoughts, Soobin’s face was a picture of concentration as he focused on the canvas in front of him, his hand finally moving subconsciously to bring forward a blend of familiar colors.

“Right, you just want to— ah, hey!”

Yeonjun’s exclamation made him turn, a slight look of annoyance as picnickers nearby also followed his voice.

Soobin’s eyes widened a bit when he realized why, annoyance setting in once again.

“Not again..”

In front of Yeonjun who was shielding his Jigglypuff, Soobin’s Grafaiai was waving its’ hands towards Mareanie threateningly as it tries to trap it with its’ tentacles.

“Again?! This happens often?” Soobin let the palette fall, reluctantly walking toward the Pokémon.

“Can you two not have a turf war right now??” Looking around, the tips of his ears began to burn red as he felt peoples’ gazes on him.

Unfortunately for Soobin, the two didn’t care much about onlookers’ gazes as Grafaiai concentrated and spit directly at Mareanie.

Soobin’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he groaned, Yeonjun’s eyes were still blown open as he looked on.

Yeonjun’s Jigglypuff had an oblivious smile on its face as it rubbed against his face, enjoying the defense he provided.

“I gotta bring Mareanie to the Pokémon center.”

“Huh? Seriously?”

“This happens weekly, it’s a routine at this point.” Yeonjun’s lips jutted out in a pout as he looked down at the picnic laid out in front of him.

“You barely touched the food I brought.”

“I know, I know.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Soobin uttered an apology before a hard thump was heard behind him.

Yeonjun’s eyes trailed behind the taller boy. “Oh uh, your partners awake.”

Turning, Soobin’s face fell once more as he sees the canvas he was previously working on slapped over with Smeargle’s paint, the painting being completely taken over by the now excitedly working Pokémon.

What was supposed to be a nice outing to help Soobin unwind unfortunately became yet another stressful event as he now stood in the Pokémon center, tiredly running his hand through his hair as he waited for his Mareanie to recover.

Mareanie and Grafaifai almost never got along and when they did it was very short-lived. Considering how invasive the previous is and how territorial the later is, it’s practically a recipe for disaster.

Even still, once the two decided that they were bonded to Soobin for whatever reason he couldn’t just abandon them. And thus, a cycle of constant chaos was born in this artists’ otherwise mundane life.

“Soobin?” A familiar voice called from behind him and he turned, cocking his head over his shoulder to look back.

It was you.

It would be the most painful coincidence that the world would throw you into the fold today right after he had been talking about you. A grating reminder of what he can’t seem to shake thoughts of.

Even still, he gave you a tight lipped smile. “Hey, Y/N.”

Skipping over happily, Soobin took note of the camera hanging down around your neck. A familiar Indeedee followed by your side, seemingly as excited to see him as you were.

Considering your feelings for Soobin, Indeedee had been excited to see him as she felt the overwhelming fondness radiating off of you.

Perhaps the curse of having psychic Pokémon would be how easily they can read you.

“Why are you here? Is everything okay?”

“Ah.. Mareanie had an accident.” The smile on your face quickly turned into a concerned expression, bringing your hand up to nervously fidget with the strap of your camera.

“I hope that she’s alright.” Soobin chuckled slightly, shaking his head. “It’s fine, trust me.” Pausing for a moment, he decided to speed up his wait time.

“Why are you here? Is Gardevoir alright?” Noticing the absence of your other favorite Pokémon, it would be the quickest explanation as to why you’d be here.

“Aha.. yeah. Actually, Gardevoir and I were going to help this couple with a photoshoot. I’m here to get Meditite.”

“Meditite? How much trouble can a Meditite get into?” Shaking your head, you let out a small laugh.

“He likes to come here sometimes after his trainings. Nurse Joy has tons of berries that she likes to give out so he sees it as a market of some sort. I tell her all the time to focus on real patients but she insists he keeps visiting…”

The sight of the two of you engaging in casual conversation was almost funny to Indeedee, you standing wide-eyed with excitement as you ramble on about your current project and Soobin standing tall and confident with a calm demeanor.

The center’s ambiance seemed to dim the buzzing chatter of other trainers as Soobin focused on you.

Even when he can’t seem to possibly beat you in anything, he hangs onto every word that you say.

Ever present in his life and his thoughts— the strongest and most determined trainer he had met possibly by far, surpassing even his closest friends.

You were somehow a sea full of saltwater and the endless thirst scratching the back of his throat with a begging curiosity at the same time.

Eyes shimmering and beautiful with a buzzing excitement simply for existance. It was admirable and the slightest bit irritating.

The comforting hum of healing machines cone to an end as Nurse Joy returns from the back with her Chansey and greets the two of you warmly.

“Aren’t you two an unexpected pair?” The implication behind her tone made Soobin quickly attempt to clear his throat, causing her to quietly chuckle as she held out a Pokéball toward him.

“Mareanie is in good condition. She’s resting right now but she’ll be alright! The poison wasn’t anything major, thanks to Grafaiai.” Soobin let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding.

Before you could open your mouth to question about your own Pokémon, he came skipping over happily with remnants of some berry on his face.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you kneeled down with a smile as you wiped the juices away.

“You’re all set now?” Happily nodding along with you, Meditite took a deep breath as he took on his usual pose as he began to levitate next to you. Indeedee happily clapped her hands together.

“Thank you for keeping him happy. I’m really sorry he keeps coming here for something so small…” your voice trailed off before you laughed, scratching the back of your neck as if that would wash away the small feeling of embarrassment.

Nurse Joy shook her head. “It’s no worries. Meditite is a darling, he’s always welcome.” Turning toward Soobin, she gave him a smile before bowing slightly. “Please come again when you need assistance.”

As Nurse Joy was soon whisked away with the duties of the center, the two of you were left standing across from each other.

“Uh..”

“Ah—”

“Oh, sorry—!”

“You can—”

Shaking his head, he clears his throat again. “You can go.”

A painful stand-still of a conversation that you absolutely dreaded had you slightly reconsidering before you decided to just bite the bullet.

“Did you have anything ready for today? Um.. the couple that I’m working with today wanted to take some anniversary photos by the waterfront. I know this is a bit out of the blue but would you maybe want to come? It shouldn’t take too long and we can go to a café or something afterward!”

In truth, you’d been wanting to ask Soobin to spend time together for a long while but were a bit embarrassed, unsure of how to go about it.

Almost every interaction the two of you had was you asking him to battle and after a while, you began to feel a bit guilty for not trying to get to know him.

Considering how much you’d grown to enjoy his paintings, it felt more like asking out your idol rather than a mutual friend.

The invitation was seemingly out of the blue. Despite this, Soobin took a moment to think it over.

As of late, he’d been at a complete loss of inspiration. Art block had completely taken over and anything he did paint, he couldn’t possibly put on display for anyone out of sheer embarrassment.

Putting aside his conflicting feelings about you, there’s a slight chance that going could provide him with some insight and inspiration.

Maybe spending more time with you would allow him to clear you from his thoughts.

Bracing yourself for rejection, Indeedee gently holds your hand in hers to help you calm.

“Sure, that actually sounds nice.”

The way to the waterfront was rather unusual. Most times the two of you had interacted was with the assistance of Yeonjun’s brilliant social engineering or a spontaneous battle when you’d crossed paths.

As the two of you walked, you found that there wasn’t much to talk about besides his art and your upcoming photoshoot.

“It’s… you haven’t had a showcase in a while.” You pointed out before inwardly wincing at the topic you spit out. “How have you been?”

Soobin’s eyes widened a bit in surprise as you brought up his art. His lips jutted out in a surprised pout— he looked similar to a cute bunny for a moment as his head perked up. “Huh?” Suddenly, his posture seemed much straighter- you almost forgot how tall he really was. “I’ve been… fine.” He started hesitantly. “Just distracted, maybe…”

That was the only word he could say without giving away too much.

“I… I get it. Sorry, I’m not sure why I brought that up actually…” you let out an embarrassed laugh, “I was just wondering if I maybe missed one or something…”

Soobin seemed to perk up at that, “hm? Missed?”

You tilted your head to the side a bit. “Yeah..? I’ve gone to all of your showcases, I think… well, all the ones I’ve heard about.”

Suddenly, his throat ran dry as it always did around you and he swallowed. He hoped you didn’t notice with how quickly he covered it up with a cough. ‘Real smooth.’

“You- you’ve come to them?”

You gave him a look that was a mix of disbelief and amusement, as if you were somehow offended that he had even asked that. “Of course,” you said. “I always try to make it.”

Soobin could only nod, forcing himself to look ahead as the waterfront came into view. He could see the silhouettes of the couple coming to light. For some reason, he found himself wishing that the walk could be a lot longer.

“Your art is really impactful.” You tacked on at the end, giving him a small smile. His lips parted slightly as he went to respond, only for him to be cut off as you raised your hand.

“Cheol!” You called out, suddenly rushing over to who he assumed was your client. Despite the fact that Soobin found himself missing you by his side, a part of him was pretty excited to see you in action. Of course, he’d seen your photos on display the few times that he happened to pass by your exhibits. It’s not as if he was looking for them, though. He just happened to be in the areas.

It was a few hours that Soobin just stood, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he watched. There was something undeniable intriguing about how easily you seemed to direct your subjects, so confidently too.

Soobin almost felt envious. If he could command his brush in the same manner that you commanded people, maybe he’d be able to get some more work done. He watched as Gardevoir assisted you in shifting lighting, happily moving to block or direct light when you instructed.

He quickly brushed those thoughts away. It was a stupid comparison.

When you’d finished and collecting your payment, you waved goodbye to your clients before turning to him. Stretching your arms above your head with a yawn, his eyes never left you. You didn’t seem to notice that though as you glanced over to the waterfront to study the waves. “Oh… it’s already getting dark? No wonder the lighting was off…” you murmured softly. Resting your arms behind your head for a brief moment, you looked back at Soobin with a small smile as you caught him staring.

“What?”

“Huh..?”

Allowing your arms to fall, you looked down as you used your hands to adjust the lens of your camera. “You were staring.” You pointed out.

“Oh.”

That was all Soobin could muster and he immediately felt like slapping himself. Though his lips remained parted as he watched you, the wind against you and the water sparkling under the waning light in the background. He wished he could take a photo to remember it forever. But that was your expertise- he was just a fan.

Even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“Uh… I know it’s gotten a bit late but would you still want to—“

“I should go.” He said suddenly before he spoke up again, clearly flustered at having accidentally cut you off. “S-Sorry. I have this… project I want to start.”

Shaking your head, you waved your hand dismissively. “It’s alright. I get it… have fun.”

Soobin stood there for a moment, his hand twitching a bit before he brought it up to cover his mouth with an awkward cough. He almost went to hug you— but he caught himself. “I’ll… just- see you, Y/N.”

There was a fond smile on your face as you nodded. “See you… good luck with your project!” He nodded, looking down to meet eyes with Gardevoir. She looked smug.

He let out an awkward laugh before he realized that he had been standing there far longer than he needed to. With this realization, he nodded before turning to make his way back to his home.

Maybe the walk would give him time to clear his head. But he still had that image in his mind.

You sighed, looking back down to your camera. “…I guess I could just work on getting these prints now, then.” You muttered. Maybe you slightly regretted inviting him- only because you had wanted to really sit and talk with him rather than have him watch you do your job. He probably thought you were boring.

Gardevoir just made a sound of approval as she looked up at you with a calm smile, placing her hand over yours. You smiled a bit, placing your hand on her head. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Maybe Soobin should have thanked you. He hadn’t even considered it when he was with you or when he was walking away and had the thought to go back and run up to you.

But here, with his hand moving across the canvas quickly without any hesitation he knew he should have. As soon as he had gotten home he practically stumbled to set up his supplies. There wasn’t any hesitation in his movements for once— his own Pokémon sat back and marveled in awe at this. Maybe his art block was finally gone?

Soobin didn’t understand it— didn’t know how one interaction with you suddenly made everything so clear.

Not even an interaction but the simple act of seeing you with the setting sun reflected on your skin and the sound of your voice drowning out the loud crashing waves.

He wanted to immortalize you forever so that maybe then he would have all the time he needed to understand that feeling.

As the time flew past, Soobin hadn’t even realized. He was so caught up in his work as he moved. The entire time, all he could do was think about you as he tried to recall that exact moment. The exact feelings that overwhelmed him— every detail of your face. The lines, the beauty marks and the curves of every angle of you.

Eventually, his hand had stuttered in its’ movements. Once he hesitated, he pulled back a bit to see. It was as if his body was entirely on autopilot and he hadn’t even realized the new day yet.

As expected, he had painted that exact scene. It was you.

Despite his best attempts to deny his own actions, he knew that this was exactly what he had meant to make from the start. Because he wanted to have something of you, especially if he couldn’t have you yourself.

He sighed, studying the canvas as he placed his brush down to his side. Smeargle crooned as he rested his head against his leg, nuzzling it a bit as if he was comforting him.

Looking down, Soobin smiled and placed his hand on his Pokémon’s head. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a painting.”

It had been a few days since then. The two of you hadn’t crossed paths since, despite your best efforts to find him. With Yeonjun out battling different gyms now your direct contact line was cut, leaving you to search for Soobin in different crowds. Maybe he had went off to explore a different city while you had lingered back. You weren’t sure.

Meanwhile, Soobin was struggling to come to terms with what this meant. Surely a one-off portrait of you didn’t mean anything, right? Still, he found himself just staring at it as he thought of you.

How much you irritated him before that day. But why did you irritate him so much? He tried to find the answer, but all he could come up with was how much better you seemed than him.

It was this confusion that led Soobin to a studio he knew you frequented— though of course, if anyone asked, he would be here to see Beomgyu.

“Soobin?”

Almost as if on cue, he glanced over his shoulder with widened eyes like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh,” he murmured before he cleared his throat. “You’re here?” He said, though it sounded more like a question. As if he couldn’t believe he was seeing you, even with you in front of him.

“Uh… yeah, I’m here to use the dark room to develop some photos…” you trailed off, giving him a hesitant smile. You seemed smaller now, like you were trying not to take up too much space. He seemed to notice that.

“I’m just… I was looking for Beomgyu.” He said quickly before he shook his head, “you’re um…” even though he spoke, he wasn’t sure what to say to keep the conversation going. Why did everything seem so much more difficult now with you?

“Do you want to see?” You asked suddenly, giving him an out.

He let out a sigh of relief, his own charming smile crossing his features as he nodded.

You smiled too and for once, it felt like something was lifted from the air. “Have you ever been in a dark room?” You asked curiously.

“No.” He shook his head. “Gyu always says I’m too annoying to be stuck in a room with.”

Despite the implications of those words, he recalled them with a smile. It seemed like he was proud of knowing he could talk his peoples’ ears off and still be able to call them his friends.

You let out a quiet laugh, studying his smile for a moment as you listened to him. Soobin swore he felt his heart skip several beats at the look in your eye- like you were completely enamored with him- but he brushed it off. He must have been imagining it.

“It’s pretty scary. I’ll show you.”

“Scary? Is it supposed to be scary?” He asked, a bit confused.

“No.” You laughed, “you’ll see.” He only nodded, following you further into the studio to an unoccupied room. Your Pokémon were chattering amongst themselves as usual with the brief hums or chittering that you could overhear.

Smeargle and Gardevoir specifically seemed to be engaged in some type of conversation or another, to your surprise. It was an unlikely pair.

When you both arrived, the darkness of the room surprised him- though he should have expected it from the name itself. Still, the red lighting was something to marvel at. It almost felt like a different world entirely, as ridiculous as that may sound to someone like you.

“Oh… yeah. Scary.”

“Right? It’s straight out of a ghost type gym or something.” You laughed quietly as you placed your bag down.

Soobin nodded, moving to stand beside you as he looked down at the counter with all the materials he didn’t recognize.

“I never realized how much work you really have to do just for some pictures.” He admitted suddenly before he could catch himself.

“Yeah… it’s the same as painting though, isn’t it?”

He furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion before shaking his head. “No way. Photography is much more… technical.”

“Mechanical?” You asked as he nodded.

“That.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Why not..?”

“Isn’t painting mechanical too? I’ve seen you work before. Briefly but… you do move like a machine. It’s almost scary.”

Soobin let out a quiet huff as he leaned against the wall. “Not recently. Painting is more…” he caught himself before he finished.

“What? It’s harder?” You seemed amused by that idea. “But not recently? Why not?”

“Lack of inspiration.” He said simply, trying to ignore the fact that his latest work had been of you— he only got something done because of you and hasn’t been able to find anything else to paint since. You were a permanent muse now in his mind.

You hummed, nodding as you carefully placed the pictures down. “Me too.”

“How can you have a lack of inspiration? It’s photos…” he quickly realized how rude that may have sounded and winced a bit, “sorry. I just mean…”

You smiled, raising your head to look at him. “I got it. Don’t worry.”

He still felt a bit bad, his shoulders sagging slightly as you looked back down to the photo. Normally, his mind worked faster than his mouth— he seemed to function backwards around you. “Yeah…”

Soobin dug the heel of his palm into his eye in an attempt to get used to the lights, searching the area for something he could say. The area or his mind— anything to distract himself from how close you now seemed.

“I think… we have similar work methods. I think that’s why I relate so much to you.”

Soobin seemed surprised by this, “relate? You… relate to me?”

Nodding, you hold up the photo to display. “Yeah. I’m sorry if I’m speaking out of turn but… I think you tend to get into your head after just one mishap. And because of things like that, you can end up overworking yourself.”

He hesitated, swallowing the lump in his throat before he nodded. “Uh… yeah, actually.”

All he could focus on was the warm smile you gave him.

“The people you love will be waiting for you either way, so you should try to relax more.”

He let out a sheepish laugh only for it to be followed by a sigh. “It’s… hard to find time for yourself.”

When you went to open your mouth to reply, he suddenly cut you off once more. “Are they done?” He asked curiously, leaning over your shoulder to look at the photos. The tips of his hair brushed against your cheek- it was odd. But not too unusual.

“H-huh? Oh, sort of… they take a while but you can start to see the outlines. See?”

There was a noise- similar to a bump followed by a whine behind the both of you. Your eyes widened in brief surprise as you turned— only to find your beloved Pokémon missing. It was unusual, Gardevoir at least knew not to open the door while you were using the room.

Soobin drew his brows together in annoyance. “What was that?” He asked the obvious question as he made his way to the door, placing his hand down to push it down- only for it to lodge in place.

“It’s…”

“Is that..? Locked..?”

Soobin groaned, resting his head against the door as he strung a million curses together. He loved you, truly he did— no, he *liked* you but the idea of being stuck in such a small room with you made him want to have the ground open up and swallow him whole. How could he not embarrass himself more than he already had? Surely you’d noticed all his staring.

There was another noise as the door suddenly pushed open, hitting against Soobin’s forehead and sending him tumbling a bit. He groaned, bringing a hand to rub the spot where it had hit. In your surprise, you pulled him towards you a bit and pulled his hand from his face to try and see the possible bruise. “Are you alright..?”

Soobin couldn’t focus on you. He didn’t trust himself enough to not fall to his knees at the sheer proximity so instead, he directed his focus to the door. Smeargle was poking his head through the crack with his tongue sticking out, looking as dumb as ever, Soobin might add.

Upon seeing Soobin’s annoyance though, Smeargle let out a high pitched whine and slammed the door closed again. Any worries about your photos were now discarded as you let out a sigh and gently rubbed Soobin’s forehead. “You’ll be fine.”

“It’s just a door… you don’t have to rub it like that…” he murmured in embarrassment. Suddenly, he was thankful that the red lights hid the pink hue in his cheeks.

There was a brief silence as you blinked at him, the words slowly registering in your mind before you let your hand fall back to your side awkwardly. You didn’t have much time to sit with the embarrassment though as a smile made its’ way onto his face and he let out a quiet huff of amusement.

“You’re so bizarre…” he murmured. Still, there was the slightest bit of amusement in his tone. The idea that you were so worried about such a small injury.

“Don’t say that…”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it.” You pointed out. Soobin felt slightly guilty, after all- this was the first time the two of you had spent so much time together. Did he get too comfortable? Were you actually upset or was he feeling his heart drop into his stomach for absolutely no reason?

Soobin just loved you now, but he knew he would never do anything about it. He was beginning to get discouraged again and rethink his words, but then this little cloud, this smile, crossed your face like a young sailboat cloud, a little white meringue in the middle of that cerulean sky.

“I didn’t mean it badly- or uh, negatively I mean.” And he smiled a bit sheepishly, that dimple she’d seen very few times directed at her peeking through. Reluctantly, she smiled too. “Yeah, I know.”

A moment of comfortable silence passed before the reality settled in. “So… why exactly do you think they’ve done this?” Soobin’s lips turned down in a slight pout as he thought the question over. His Pokemon weren’t exactly *reasonable*- or, well, normal.

“Honestly, I…”

Very quickly though, he had a memory flash of the earlier morning where he was watching him and Yeonjun’s Pokemon ‘play’ fighting, the way Smeargle had popped up and seemed almost immediately alert at your sudden appearance in the Pokemon center. “…Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh! Um, yeah…” he gave you a halfhearted smile before she cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. “I mean, uh-“

“You know?”

“Well, no, not know- but um- inferred? I mean, I can guess-”

“Now you’re weird.” You pointed out with a fond expression. “Spill.”

Soobin took a moment to take in your expression in the dark of the room. It was beginning to feel hotter somehow, and more cramped. He cleared his throat. “Um… I…” he frowned, sighing before forcing himself to admit it. Maybe then Smeargle would open the door and he could strangle it himself. “I painted you.”

There was a few more moments of silence before you cocked your head to the side a bit like a confused puppy. If you were doing it on purpose to stir a reaction in him, it worked judging by the way he looked away with a forced smile. “What?”

“I painted you.” He said much quicker this time. “I mean, I was struggling with art block and instead of trying to think of what to paint I just… did. And when I was done I realized it was you..?” The way he explained it caused you to laugh a bit, causing his face to heat up. He couldn’t tell if you found it endearing or embarrassing— maybe a mix of both.

“Just… completely by accident? That’s flattering.” He smiled a bit before he forced himself to look back at you. “Yeah. You were… the first and only thing that made sense, I guess.” He said the words before his brain could stop himself. And your smile grew.

“That.” The smile on your face melted into a look of confusion. “Huh? What?”

This time, he smiled. “That. Your smile. Sort of… subtle— but still really pretty. Blinding, even in the dark of this room.”

It was your turn to feel embarrassed and you looked down at your hand for a moment, as if it could save you before you gave an embarrassed laugh. “Well, that’s certainly a line.”

“Thanks, I rehearsed it.”

“You did?” He quickly shook his head, waving his hands defensively. “No! No. Joking.”

You laughed again and he started to, too.

“But Yeonjun will definitely say I did—“

Click!

Silence fell over the two of you as you heard the door unlock and slowly be pushed in, the familiar Pokemon’s heads poking in.

Soobin shoved his foot into the crevice between the frame and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you…” your Gardevoir just stood back smugly and his Smeargle quickly scurried away. Studying the array of Pokemon, you found yourself even more amused. “I don’t think that’s the confession they were hoping for.”

Soobin looked over to you with a confused look. A part of you hoped he never understood anything so you could keep seeing that face. “Huh?”

You shook your head, pulling the door open to lean against it. Photos long forgotten. “Ask me.”

“Uh… ask you?” He furrowed his eyebrows together now as he looked at you as if you were crazy. Maybe he did think you were a little, not that it would change how he felt about you.

You gave a scoff of amusement. “On a date. Or do I have to keep hunting you down and battling you for you to realize I just wanted to see you?”

A look of realization crossed his face before his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. “Oh… oh!” He grinned, the corners of his ears wrinkling. “Yeah, okay.”

You chuckled. “Okay?” You teased, “that’s it.” Soobin cleared his throat. “I mean, uh— do you… want to go out together?”

“Is that a date invitation or are you asking to be my boyfriend?”

He tensed a bit in embarrassment before he laughed, rubbing the nape of his neck as his eyes darted everywhere but your face. “Both, maybe..?”

“Okay.”

“Okay? To..?”

“To both.”

His smile grew more giddy and he nodded, the two of you slipping from the darkness of the room into the light of the dimly lit hallway. “It’s a date then.” You said, poking his side lightly before walking off.

He had half a mind to call after you, maybe even follow you after such a sudden goodbye but his first instinct was to call Yeonjun excitedly. A complete switch considering his previous denial of his feelings. Unfortunately, Yeonjun didn’t answer, leaving him standing in the hall by himself shyly covering his smile as his Smeargle rubbed against his leg in a clingy motion.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[velvethana]

well its time to finish the soobin drafts i have to cope wtaf.

[velvethana]

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ last we talked. ⭒ drabble

The absolute last thing you wanted was to be here, talking to the boy you were with ‘unlabeled’— on and off. Yet here you are: just because he asked you to come. How could you ever deny him?

warning. none ! fluff / reader is a dummy who refuse to admit they are in love (aka me refusing to accept the fact i ult matthew and instead yelling ‘i hate him!!!’)

“Do you regret any of it?”

There was a heavy beat of silence between the two of you as the café around you continued to bustle with activity. A brief moment before the cracks in his heart expanded even more to the point that he thought it would shatter entirely as you nodded.

“I did.”

“Did?”

For some reason, despite the aching hurt behind those words he let out a quiet breath of relief that he wasn’t aware he was even holding.

“Did..? What did…”

“I do.” You corrected, furrowing your eyebrows together the slightest bit as you force your eyes to focus on the drink in front of you. Anything other than looking at him.

There it was. The sound of shattering in the back of his mind- the final crack in the china. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have been so optimistic still. But he wouldn’t give up. It wasn’t in his nature.

“You do.” he corrected quietly. This time, another breath came from him. It carried a lot more weight this time and he found himself wondering if you’d heard it too.

If you did, you didn’t mention it.

“What do you regret, then?” he asked quietly. His voice came out as if he was afraid to speak too loudly- as if he increased the volume even slightly that you would run away. It was so unlike him.

But maybe you would have. You’ve done it before.

“I regret you— everything about you.” The firmness in your voice did nothing to hide the pure irritation. He couldn’t tell if it was directed at him or yourself. Maybe it was both. Or maybe it was just towards the situation.

“Yeah, me too.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you forced yourself to meet his eyes now. “No.” you started, “don’t do that. you don’t get to do that.”

He seemed confused. But how could he be confused? After everything you’ve been through, he should understand. All the confusion and miscommunication.

Tip-toeing around the true depth of your feelings for the sake of preserving your ‘fun’.

And after everything you’d been through, you shouldn’t find his confused expression so endearing. But you did. You hated it.

“Do what?”

“You don’t get to give me permission to hate you.” Despite your best efforts, the words came out much shakier this time.

The heavy weight between the two of you seemed to shift, falling all onto your shoulders. The memories that your body were holding onto hitting you at full force.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” he corrected. He wasn’t as quick as you had been. Maybe he was less convinced with his own words. “It came out wrong. It’s my bad, really.”

“Yeah, it is.” You snapped quickly. A part of you found your own voice annoying in that moment, especially when his eyes widened a bit in surprise.

Being mean to Matthew was hard, especially when you didn’t mean it.

“I hate you. Everything about you.” A bitter laugh escaped you as you pushed your drink away slightly. Leaning back into the chair as if you were getting comfortable— like you were getting ready to let out all of the irritating thoughts boiling just below the surface.

“I hate your crooked smile. I hate your hair and how you’ve refuse to cut it. I hate your hobbies. Like how you’d push me when you got excited over a stupid paper card. I hate those stupid voices you make— the high pitched one, because you know it annoys me. But it makes you laugh and you knew that was what I wanted to hear, so I’d let you get away with it anyways.”

Even with the words you were throwing towards him, Matthew couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He tried his best to hold it back but he failed, like usual.

“You’d laugh too, you know.” he pointed out. You hated how smug he sounded. You hated how his smile still made your heart feel like it was tightening.

There was a fine line between love and a panic attack. Maybe the most irritating thing about Matthew was that you could never tell the difference, the entirety of your ‘friendship’. But you should have known better— you could never just be Matthew’s friend. He was too lovable. Annoying.

You let out an amused huff, some of the tension in your shoulders relieving from the sight of his smile.

“Your laugh is… contagious.” you admitted reluctantly.

He laughed a bit louder this time and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. The noise of the cafe seemed a bit quieter now that he was so close. All you could hear was how your breath almost caught in your throat when you focused on his lips.

“it looks like my smile is, too.”

You cringed, not bothering to hide your distaste for that comment. In his eyes, the expression was somehow still as endearing as always.

“Ew.” —that was all you said and he laughed again.

“Ew?” he raised an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. He leaned back, crossing his arms as he mimicked your position from before. “You’re really bad at hiding your smile. Don’t ‘ew’ me.” He mocked. There it was again. That annoying, high pitched impression of you.

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, you realized he was right. Because despite your best efforts to seem annoyed or downright disgusted- there was a clear amusement in your expression displayed by the slight pull of your lips.

“You love my smile.” he corrected, rather confidently. “You used to annoy me constantly anytime I was in a bad mood just to see it. When I was tired and worn out— and you were so dramatic, like you’d die without it... and you always said that long hair suited me best. So maybe that’s why I kept it. You ever think about that?”

You fell silent, unsure of how to respond.

“—and you don’t hate my hobbies, even if you get overwhelmed by them. You spent tons of money on those ‘stupid paper cards’ for me. You can say that it was because it was easier than searching for a different or ‘better’ gift, but I know you like opening them with me too.”

The words hung in the air for a bit before his smug expression softened into a familiar smile. His eyes studied you with a sense of longing, a subtle softness like he found something he was looking for as you hesitantly met his gaze. You wanted to hit him.

“You like seeing me happy.” he said, “and you can pretend to be unbothered or burdened by me all you want… but at the end of the day, the only thing you really hate about me is that you love me.”

You let out another scoff as you looked away, allowing his words to sink in. You tried to comb through your mind to find any reasoning or excuse— anything you could say to defend yourself.

“Sorry, correction. Still love me.” he said, sighing. His shoulders fell slightly as he studied your expression with the same soft smile. “I can admit it out loud now. So you can too.”

Before you could try and defend yourself, there was a brief shock as he leaned forward and you felt his hand on the side of your jaw. He gently turned your face to look back at him. You narrowed your eyes in response, shoving his hand away with an annoyed grumble.

“…I hate that you’re right.”

He only laughed at your reaction, not deterred in the slightest from your display of distaste.

“And there’s that smile I love. Took you long enough.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your bottom lip briefly as you tried to hold back the growing smile. It was too hard— too difficult to hide when he was watching you so instead, you took your drink and carefully brought it to your mouth.

“…Shut up.”

“Aww, come on! Don’t you want to rant some more about how much you hate me?”

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[velvethana]

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ birthday.

Over the years, you’ve become jaded of your dream to find a love that would provide a home for your heart. One chance encounter is enough to change those days forever.

જ⁀➴♡ wc 2k ✧ fluff , huening kai x reader

As a child, you would drift in and out of libraries filled with dead poets and their musky scent. Pages upon pages filled with musings of love long lost, only immortalized on those pages that began to yellow and fade with time.

Most people found themself drawn to poems about love, searching for the words to describe what they all longed for— true romance.

Unlike them, you often found yourself fixating on the books that held the passage of time. Maybe there was something that the authors knew, something that would make it all make sense.

You held them in your hands and breathed them in wanting so much to be part of their world. To understand and learn from them— to find something to fight for.

The books told you one day your poetry would be whispered on the lips of your lover, that time would slow and all that would remain was your love.

It was within these pages that you found yourself believing that was the only thing time could never take away.

With this came the yearning and soon your birthday wishes were replaced with something of a much heavier weight.

Overtime, you grew to dislike your birthday. It wasn’t always like that, though.

One year you would love it, others you would hate it.

One thing that always remained was the feeling of loneliness, even while surrounded by people smiling and clapping.

Somehow your birthday felt excruciatingly long but never long enough.

The existential dread that would come with facing the fact you were getting older and empty self-made promises.

The ritual of blowing the candles, the cutting of the cake— the mess of cream and sponge in your mouth.

Always your favorite, never changing flavors overtime because who was it for, if not you?

The taste was sweet and familiar, like a newly formed wish, fashioned from all the ones you've made before.

Cake began to be the only thing you looked forward to as you got older, until eventually you stopped eating it altogether.

You don't remember the wishes you made in sequence or the things you ask for.

You only recall the ones you wanted the most, like the f/c scarf you saw in a shop’s display window when you were thirteen.

The admiration for how perfect the mannequin seemed to wear it, partnered with a perfectly coordinated outfit.

How deeply you yearned to wear it as flawlessly as it had, maybe then someone would see you and fall in love just how you did in that moment.

How deeply you felt its’ absence when you sat and stared at the litter of torn wrapping paper, empty new possessions littered around as you waited for the next one— only for it to never come.

And even though it was trivial to everyone else, your heart ached at its’ failing.

You found yourself wondering what the cause of such heartache was.

The books said that the greatest heartache came from loving another soul, beyond any doubt or reason.

It was with realizing this, you called yourself lucky to have never been in love with anyone as much as you’d been in love with that scarf.

As long as your love was directed towards the minuscule things, you would be safe.

Yet deep down, a part of you still yearned for someone to look at you and convince you to take that risk. So you would try over and over again, despite the promise of heartache, to find what you wanted.

To have someone to spend your birthday with.

After all, what was more poetic than one’s birthday?

A day spent celebrating your life and your future, reflecting on the past and wishing for your future.

Or facing the inevitable end, remembering your final destination.

And even though it wasn’t death you feared itself, the idea of facing it alone seemed devastating.

Your wishes always changed.

Like the year you turned fifteen and your best friend's mother got really sick.

Despite all the stories your friend had shared with you about their relationship, when you found her breaking down at the news: you felt that heartache again.

All you wanted was for her to be okay again.

It was that year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.

In your case, for that year, it seemed to be a curse.

On your seventeenth birthday, you found yourself falling in love for the first time. Or at least, you thought so in the moment.

Walking out of your front door anxiously fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt as you made your way to his car, only for him to meet you halfway.

Standing on the sidewalk where he brought you red roses and a promising smile.

“Happy birthday.” He said.

When he broke your heart, you cried for days.

Many birthdays came and went.

One by one, you loved them and just as easily, they were lost to you.

Somewhere amidst the carnations and mistletoe you slowly learned more about love than the books ever told.

Love was messy and almost unattainable. Love was seemingly temporary, but inevitably painful.

Little by little, your heart that was once a bouquet of hope and ecstasy blossomed into one of tenderness and betrayal.

You wondered if you would ever be able to shed that loneliness that came every year, always the same day.

Then you met him.

Your meeting was clumsy and unusual, just like him as he flashed you a friendly smile and uttered a quick apology.

You stood in the doorway with the box of a now crooked birthday cake, dumbfounded.

It wasn’t until he waved his hand in front of your face and asked if you were okay that you had snapped out of it.

“I’m… okay.” Your voice was hesitant, unsure of how to proceed.

Everything in your heart yelled at you to keep the conversation going— to say anything to keep him here, in this moment.

“I’m not so sure about my cake, though.”

Looking down to realize the cake that was once decorated with intricate roses and beautiful cursive lettering was now lopsided and smudged, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“We should fix that then.” And he smiled, signaling for you to follow him back into the bakery the two of you had collided in front of.

The two of you had waited in the line to the register to explain the situation and see if there was any hope for you to get a quick replacement.

A face straight out of a magazine, it was a miracle you hadn’t recognized him. Longing glances and the sound of whispers nearby should have tipped you off but to you, everything besides his voice was simply white noise.

Holding your breath next to the handsome stranger, you found yourself hoping that the line would never move.

“Huening Kai, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“I said Huening Kai, that’s my name.” His voice was patient and even bubbly.

“Oh.” Was all you could say.

“I really hope your friends’ birthday doesn’t get ruined— I should have been watching where I was going, haha…” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and you found yourself falling further into his boyish charms.

You felt much younger than you were, that feeling of your heart fluttering you only felt once when that boy had given you roses.

How special he must have been to give you that simply by smiling.

“It’s… my birthday, actually.” It took you a moment to admit and he must have noticed with how he nodded.

“Well, I hope I didn’t ruin your birthday then.”

“It’s really no problem, I’m not doing much anyways so… there really isn’t any need for you to get me a replacement.”

Pulling back on the idea, he seemed to pick up on the slight embarrassment you had.

“It was a beautiful cake, but it’s fine. Really.”

“A beautiful cake for a beautiful girl, right?”

The blood rushed to your cheeks and you swore you could have stumbled over from how lightheaded you became. And he simply laughed, quickly apologizing for his teasing.

“Haha I’m sorry, I just don’t know your name.”

In that line you stood, dressed in a messy accumulation of whatever clothes you could find in a rush out of your apartment and your hair tussled about.

You certainly didn’t feel beautiful but you found yourself believing his words, despite it all. Maybe you were the tiniest bit hopeful.

“Huh? Oh, it’s Y/N…”

“Right. Happy birthday, Y/N!”

You weren’t sure if he knew it then but in that moment, all of those wasted birthdays seemed worth it because you had endured them to get to that moment.

The moment he came into your life, the best birthday gift you could ever ask for.

Without even knowing who he was prior, Huening Kai was the first man you fell in love with, completely and beyond reason, beyond any shadow of doubt you knew. You finally understood was the books spoke of.

He brought you dandelions each date.

You asked him why, if he thought they were pretty.

“They’re as pretty as you~” He’d joke.

The real reason, you later found out, was so you would never want for wishes.

Even on birthdays, he began to bring you that weed.

Somehow, you found the weed more romantic than any flowers you’d been given before simply for the meaning behind it.

A secret meaning just for the two of you.

It wasn’t a long time before the two of you had given yourselves to each other completely, jumping in head first.

It was your first birthday with him.

You never explained to him your distaste for your birthday but it didn’t stop him from encouraging the two of you to celebrate together.

Until then, it had always been the same every year. As soon as the first match was struck, the smell of burning takes you backward through your memory.

It stopped you right at that moment on that warm night, after your first heartbreak where you watched the first trickle of melting wax hit the icing and you found yourself crying for the love you thought you had lost.

Now there you were, the wax melting ever so slowly again, pouring down to deface the beautiful cake he had ordered for you. Combing through your memory, you tried to find something to wish for.

Something new or something old, it didn’t matter.

But you couldn't think of a single thing you had wanted— because he was standing there, in the lickering light, asking you to make a wish.

Messy blonde hair in his face as he leaned into his hoodie with that smile, the one you fell in love with had you holding your breath in the candlelight.

You looked deep into his eyes and saw the very best of yourself reflected back, all with love.

And you knew: he loved you, beyond reason, beyond doubt, and with no hope of salvation.

You knew your being happy was an anomaly and no one knew you better than he.

But for once, your resolve was firm and without avoiding his gaze, without crossing your fingers behind your back; or the other things you did when speaking untruthfully—you told him you were happy.

On your birthday, warm in the candlelight where your heart felt as if it were floating away.

The rain doesn’t discriminate between day or night and either will hold its own light and dark, you had learned over the years.

Through years of crying in bedroom closets, office cubicles and club bathrooms: the rain never discriminates.

You smiled nervously, feeling almost guilty for not having a wish. Despite this, you blew out the candles.

But as you went to confess your strange lack of want for anything materialistic or otherwise, he cut you off in that same playful voice.

“I love you, Y/N.”

And it was then you knew in your heart, you would always look back on that time-not without a sense of melancholy— that it was the happiest in your life.

Birthday or not, it didn’t matter anymore as long as you were with him.

After that, he never pressured you to celebrate again.

Some years the two of you had your cake and others, when your anxiety of mortality crept up on you, the two of you would treat it the same as any other day.

Of course it was the same as any other day but not without the extra caresses and gentle ‘I love you’s.

Kai hadn’t completely changed you or somehow healed that broken part of you by gifting you dandelions and pinky promises but that didn’t matter.

And now this was the year you were sure you would spend the rest of your lives together. The two of you had fallen completely in love, for the first and last time with each other.

This year where there weren't any candles— just the two of you walking late at night through the city streets with your heart in each other’s hands.

How thankful you were that you had given yourself to the first stranger who called you beautiful on your birthday.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[velvethana]

links don’t work this app is. so annoying

but hihii working on my written series + tons of one shots and drabbles

smaus are unfortunately on hold until i get a new phone bc i don’t have access to the app i used before >_< (sorry dealer no deal…)

[velvethana]

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ taste test! ⭒ drabble

Matthew wants to try a specific recipe so he calls in back up! Or the only person he knows is willing to try it.

“That’s…” you hesitate for a moment, a look of pure confusion on your face before you peer up at your boyfriend with a look that could only be described as gobsmacked.

“What the hell is that, Matthew?”

Matthew just grins, seeming so proud of himself despite the internal panic he was going through.

You’d heard all about how Matthew’s cooking was… well, ‘experimental’ according to his group members— but this wasn’t what you expected.

“You like matcha, don’t you?”

If it were possible for a question mark to have just appeared above your head, it would have. You slowly blinked at him, as if you were taking the moment to register his words. In a way, you were. You looked down at the plate in front of you.

“In my drinks.” You said, your voice not giving any indication of how you were feeling.

He lets out an almost nervous laugh now. “Yeah! Me too—“

“When was the last time you drank matcha?” He hesitates, his hands falling from his hips and he reaches up to scratch his cheek.

“Um… like a few weeks ago.” Was all he mumbled before shaking his head, “just try it.”

You loved Matthew dearly— so dearly that when he offered to make you dinner, you accepted instantly. Not without any worry of him burning down your kitchen, but you accepted nonetheless.

And despite his members’ warnings of these ‘unconventional inventions’, you just assumed that he would make something simple for a date night.

After all, he was a rather simple guy when it came to the things he did for you. Simple, attentive and sweet.

So imagine your surprise as you currently sit with his hovering over your shoulder, practically begging you to try the dish.

It was… some sort of pasta, that much was obvious.

“Matthew… I’m gonna ask you again but what the fuck—“

“It’s matcha pasta!” He exclaimed, almost offended that you even questioned it. “I told you.”

“No,” you corrected, “you just said that I liked matcha. You never said what it was.”

He groaned, leaning over your shoulder a bit with an almost pouting expression. “Come on. Try it.”

You raised an eyebrow at his behavior, “you try it first.”

He hesitates. “I’ve had it before. It’s good.”

One thing you had learned while dating Matthew was that he was absolutely terrible at keeping secrets and was an even worse liar.

“Are you trying to use me as a guinea pig right now?”

He seemed to give in as he sucked his teeth in defeat, pulling the chair out next to you to sit down. “Okay, fine. No one else will try it.”

A small smile crossed your features before you chuckled, “so… you’re making me try it? Why don’t you just try it yourself?”

There was a silence as he starred at you before he shrugged. “Cooking is my love language.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ah… okay. You’re scared, got it.”

“I’m not… scared.” He didn’t sound very convinced. “I just wanted to try it together! Like the movie with the dogs or whatever.”

Another laugh escaped you as you shifted on your chair, crossing your legs. “Very specific.”

He grinned as you leaned forward, his own body leaning closer as if he was drawn to you like a magnet. He looked like a lovesick puppy, as usual. “Very romantic.”

You rolled your eyes as you picked up the fork, swirling it around to get some of the pasta to cling to it. “Fine.” You said, a hint of intrigue in your voice. “But if it’s bad I’m gonna go break your one of your figurines.”

He froze, his smile falling a bit. “What? Who?!”

You narrowed your eyes at him a bit, “don’t worry about it.”

As you go to bring the fork to your mouth, he grabs your wrist with a nervous laugh. “W-Wait, why would you want to do that? They’re expensive, you know-“

As you watched him panic, you narrowed your eyes a bit before holding the fork out. He hesitated, his eyes falling from your own to the fork before flickering back up. Reluctantly, he opens his mouth and takes the fork in to try it.

Surprisingly, his eyes seemed to light up. He let out a hum of satisfaction as you pulled the fork away before he grinned. “It’s really good, actually… woah. Yum—“

You scoffed, “yeah. Right.” Taking more onto the fork, you bring it to your own mouth to taste test it. To your own surprise, he was right.

It did taste a bit zesty with the added lemon but the matcha sauce blended with the spinach in the pasta seamlessly.

“Shit— I mean… I guess Toji Fushiguro can live for another day…” you mumbled before you went to pick up another bite.

“So… can I get a kiss as a thank you?”

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[gigipov]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ WANTED

⠀WANTED FOR: THEFT, SPEEDING, VANDALISM

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀★★★ NOTICE ★★★

IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION CONCERNING THESE FIVE WOMEN PLEASE CONTACT YOUR NEAREST TPS POLICE DEPARTMENT.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ★★★ RESOURCES ★★★

⠀⠀masterlist. ⠀⠀ talk to gigi..? 💬⠀⠀ ⠀requests:

⠀⠀⠀🎮 Rated Mature 18+ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀she/her 🎰

[polarisjisung]

This situation is disgusting, painful, and sickening to the core, but it is very real.

Idols, let's not forget, are real people with real lives, that we do not know, so their actions undoubtedly affect the people around them.

While it absolutely sucks that someone who had so much influence over our lives turned out to be so vile, and it definitely hurts for his fans, this is about the victim, and it always will be.

It is absolutely okay and acceptable to be upset by this whole situation, but the focus should be on the victim and getting them the justice they deserve.

Supporting Taeil from this point forward is disgusting and does absolutely nothing for showing solidarity with the victim or anyone else who has been victim to anything similar

And making up rumours about a situation like this is equally as disgusting, lying about something so serious for a moment of fame and spotlight? or to pretend we know more than we really do? Please let's avoid spreading misinformation and rumours. It's not respectful in the slightest.

[velvethana]

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ Dealer, NO DEAL!

CHAPTER TEN: idiots 1 & 2.

CONTENTS: ✧

જ⁀➴♡ wc 0

home. ★ previous. ★ next.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[velvethana]

( — YELLOWJACKETS . ) CHAPTER ONE

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀“⠀⠀BIRDS OF A ⠀ FEATHER ⠀. ⠀”

warnings. ♱ (18+). lengthy series. gore. horror. cannibalism. cult activity. college au. swearing. vomit. humor. mildly suggestive. drug use. hallucinations and derealization. no smut. main character death. side character death.

chapter warnings. ♱ (18+) swearing. vomit mention. suggestive dialogue. drug use. slight derealization.

wk. 9.6k ♱

WILDERNESS (UNKNOWN)

The heart of winter beats still as the sound of hard breaths echo. Steady as he focuses, inhaling and exhaling to push himself to his limits.

The kind of darkness creeping that you only find thousands of miles from the warm, safe home you’re accustomed to. His eyes attempt to adjust as he’s hit repeatedly with the foliage he’s pushing through.

Light filters through boreal woods, giving him brief glimpses of the distance ahead.

Bare feet flying across snow-covered ground, branches lashing at filthy, blood-smeared arms and legs. A scream itches at the back of his throat but he lets nothing out.

Each gasp is a spectral apparition in the freezing air as screams of anguish and hunger echo through the woods.

Occasionally, a gust of wind sends a flurry of snowflakes against the crisp air and right into his face.

He bolts down an incline, when sudden he cries out, falling to his knees. A broken branch pierces his foot, nearly clean through to the other side.

Gritting his teeth, he rips it out and regains his footing, willing himself forward. Pushing through the pain.

Whatever you do— don’t let them catch you.

The woods abruptly give way to a large clearing surrounded by skeletal white birch. The boy halts to a stop at the edge of the glade, breath catching in his throat as he processes what he’s looking at.

Dozens of eyes carved into the surrounding trees. Around them, talismans hang from the branches, fashioned from bough and bone. Suddenly without warning, the overwhelming instinct to scream takes over as he lets out a strangled noise.

The air is filled with eerie, inhuman wails and as his own scream finally adds to the chorus of chaos— the woods fall completely silent.

Almost.

Somewhere behind him, a branch cracks, snapping him out of his terrified trance as he remembers where he is. Gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg, he bolts.

And this time, they let him go.

His body pale in the fading light as he flies across the glade until suddenly— he disappears.

The snow-covered ground opening up beneath him, appearing to swallow him whole.

A figure in animal pelts emerges from the tree line, his face shrouded by the hood of his rough and matter coat. Breath haggard, he approaches the edge of the deep hole that was previously concealed by cover of snow.

A tiger trap.

As he kneels at the edge, peering down through the jagged maw of branches snapped by the runner’s fall, he stares down unmoving.

Splayed at the bottom of the pit. His limbs once swift were bent at terrible, unnatural angles, body imapled on thick wooden spikes.

The bloodied points protrude through his chest, his thigh, his face— now nothing but a gory mess from chin to brow. A small and familiar silver charm glints around her.

The hunter stands, seemingly satisfied. Then, as the furs of his coat part, revealing the tattered and torn soccer shirt.

INT. VICE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE (PRESENT)

“Would you say you were close with any of the students?”

The vice principal sits in front of Jongho, scribbling down on a journalists pad. The principal himself seems to be around his 60's, with a cultivated youthful zeal as he tents his fingers thoughtfully.

Jongho doesn’t believe in this fabricated cool in a second yet he allows him to ramble. “I would definitely not say that- not one of those kids gave a good goddamn about Trigonometry, I can tell you that much.”

“Do you keep in touch with any of the survivors?”

The man’s face shows a hint of sorrow— no it seems to lean closer towards the side of offense. “I mean, we're all survivors in a way, don't you think?”

Jongho raises an eyebrow, unmoving. The man must have sensed his distaste for that comment as he awkwardly shifts. “Then what do you think really happened out there?”

The vice principal frowns. “All I know is that what happened was a tragedy, a terrible tragedy.” He pauses for a moment, glancing at the closed door behind Jongho. A slip of vulnerability behind his eyes. Jongho flashes a coaxing smile.

“I probably shouldn't say this, but some of these kids? Eh, no big loss, if we're honest.” Jongho nods in understanding. He doesn’t understand in the slightest. “But those kids were special. They were champions.”

EXT. SKU HIGH FIELD (PAST)

The summer air is hot as the fields littered with various players: all curled lips and freckles with sweat swiped unthinkingly from cheeks and brows. Muscles tensed, eyes narrowed in concentration.

Suddenly there's a breakaway by the team in blue and gold.

The ball expertly moved upfield by their star mid-fielder Taehyun.

He negotiates one defender after another before sending the ball spinning in a long, perfectly-aimed pass.

The fullback and sweeper close in, desperate to intercept but it’s Yeonjun who connects instead, tapping the ball just past the goalie into the net.

Immediately, the other players erupt in high fives and childish butt slaps.

Yeonjun runs downfield and the other teammates give chase, grinning, before swarming him in ecstatic celebration.

Their hearts raced as the realization of the moment finally dawned on them— this was the moment that their team qualified for the National Championship.

Arms carelessly throw around each other, the group jumps up and down as a chorus of cheers rings out.

“BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!”

Team captain, coltish beauty and hero of the hour whether he deserves to be or not. Choi Yeonjun— 18 and right now, as always, he is a God and worshipped accordingly.

Yeonjun casually jogs back into position with a loose and triumphant joy.

EXT. YEONJUN’S HOME — NEXT MORNING

The city of Seoul is a concrete haven to those who lived there. A metropolis known for its vibrant blend of tradition and cutting-edge modernity. The heart of its’ country.

Living in the city is a mess of contradictions. Friends with lies bubbling just underneath the surface hidden with smiles.

Tiredly, Yeonjun stares at himself in the mirror. It’s early morning before he has to rush off back to school and he furiously brushes his teeth.

He spits and rinses, gaze unmoving.

His expression was impassive as he considers himself in the mirror, reaching up to absent-mindedly play with the delicate silver chain dangling just below the hollow of his throat.

Choi Soobin sits idle at the curb in his beat-to-shit Ford Festiva, quietly discontent as he scribbled in the journal in his lap.

He glances out the window at Yeonjun’s picturesque colonial. Red brick, shutters, perfectly manicured lawn. ‘The nice side of town’ it would be most accurately described as.

Out of the corner of his eye he spots movement and narrows his eyes, glancing over to Yeonjun’s window where he spots Chaewon climbing down from a second story window.

She hits the ground, glancing briefly in his direction like a deer in headlights before hopping the neighbor’s fence.

Finally, Yeonjun emerges from the front door, looking utterly perfect as usual. It’s almost irritating to Soobin in a way. Brushing the feeling aside, he quickly stashes the journal in his backpack as Yeonjun climbs in.

“We’re gonna be late.” Soobin says.

Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he kicks his feet on the dashboard as he’s done hundreds of times. “We’re gonna be fine, relax.”

Soobin gives him an annoyed look, glancing at his feet on the dash before deciding against arguing. When it came to Yeonjun, he found it was best to let him do what he wanted when it came to trivial matters.

Starting the car, Soobin pulls off of the curb and onto the empty residential street to make their way towards the school.

Glancing at Yeonjun, he mumbles.

“This is like the fifth time I'm missing homeroom this month...”

Yeonjun snickered. “Then I guess you better put the pedal to the metal. See what this shit-heap can really do.”

Soobin scoffs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“This shit-heap has a name, thank you very much. And that name is Caruto.”

Yeonjun grins, dropping his feet to lean forward and pat the dash harsh and affectionately.

“Sorry, Uzumaki.”

On the stereo there’s a droll alto of a woman singing some rather boorish lyrics. Yeonjun wrinkles his nose and jabs the button, silencing it.

An off putting pop punk song suddenly blares from the speakers about instead. Innocently, off Soobin’s irritated facial expression Yeonjun’s lips form a pout of realization.

“Oh, were you listening to that?”

Soobin glanced over, a playful look in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows.

“No, it fell into the tape deck and accidentally pressed play.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes but doesn't put the tape back on and hums along to the new song.

“I saw Chaewon…” Soobin paused, voice growing a bit timid afterward.

“What happened to no distractions before Nationals? "Ripping off the band-aid" and all that?” Yeonjun shrugged, rolling down the window to lean on as he began flipping through radio stations again.

“I've decided showing up to college a virgin is a mistake. No offense.” Soobin glares at him from the corner of his eye but lets him continue.

“Plus at this point we've been together for so long. If we’re each other’s firsts then she thinks we’ll be ‘linked forever’. It’s like, poetic, or something.” Soobin scoffed. “Very romantic.”

Flashing him a grin, Yeonjun continued seamlessly. “Oh, that reminds me. I decided on a color palette for our room next year. Blue and red, not too American though. More like midnight campfire under the stars… or something along those lines.”

Soobin glances at Yeonjun, a little uneasy. Avoiding the particular subject of college, something Yeonjun’s been pushing for, he decided to focus on the other topic of conversation at hand.

“Chaewon’s a virgin?”

Not that it was his business or he even particularly seemed to care, Yeonjun gave him a confused look at the unusual pry for information.

“We've been together since freshman year.” Yeonjun rationalized. “It’s the 21st century, it doesn’t matter whether she is or not but I don’t have any reason to believe she’d lie to me.”

Soobin tapped his finger against the steering wheel impatiently. “Yeah, but. I mean, you guys have broken up like… ten thousand times.”

Yeonjun threw the same carefree grin towards Soobin that he always did when it came to his concerns about their relationship. “Never long enough to count.”

Soobin continued driving for a while in silence, Yeonjun looking out the window as he picked at his nail polish.

Suddenly a sign catches Yeonjun’s attention as he glances up as they pass Bonny’s Pizza Pub. He glares at the roadside marquee reading: “We’re proud of our Varsity Baseball Team!”

“The hell is this bullshit?” He asks, scoffing as he waved his hands out the window frantically.

“Those assholes were under .500 all season—“ he pointed directly at it as he swung over the drivers seat, hitting Soobin on the shoulder.

“Soobin, honk at that thing!”

Dragging himself out of his thoughts, Soobin had a clueless look of confusion on his face.

“Huh— Why?”

Yeonjun pouted, reaching across Soobin to do it himself. As the harsh sound of the horn aired, his pout was soon replaced with a cheeky grin.

“So they know they're bullshit!” Soobin laughs as Yeonjun lays on the horn again. “They're just going to think you're like, saluting mediocre baseball.” Soobin argued.

Yeonjun shook his head, “Oh, they'll know. Here, take over.”

Yeonjun leaned out as they drove by, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Try undefeated, bitches! We're going to motherfucking NATIONALS!”

EXT. SCHOOL BACK ALLEYWAY

Beomgyu used all the muscles in his face in the moment trying hard to seem like he didn’t give a shit as he choked down a swig of something from a brown paper bag.

“Ugh.. What is that?”

His friends laugh as he pulls the bottle of Old Wren Scotch and inspects the label.

“And here I thought jocks were supposed to be able to party.” Yunjin teased. Beomgyu continued to cough as he passed her the bottle. “Eat me.”

As Yunjin takes a swig of her own, she enters a coughing fit and begins sputtering. “Oh— that is terrible.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Okay, you know what? You can both go suck a dick.”

Yunjin laughs, hitting him on the shoulder as he defensively snatches the bottle away from her. “And just maybe we will.”

Heeseung is smiling too before his phone goes off. His eyes light up as he checks the number. “Oh shit, it's my cousin...” curiously, Beomgyu tilts his head as he leans against the wall behind him.

“Did he get us the stuff?”

“Yeah, ton—” Before Heeseung can finish, an all too familiar voice calls out. “Hey, burnout! Show us your tits!” Yunjin narrows her eyes at the douchebag leaning out the passenger window of his idling car.

Beomgyu glances uneasily at Yunjin and she looks down, flushing with embarrassment. It wasn’t that she had done anything for this torment— it was the unfortunate experience of being a high school girl.

“C’mon, don't be shy...” sensing her unease, Heeseung nudged her in a comforting motion before passing the bottle to Yunjin.

“I mean, shit! If you really wanna see em!”

Heeseung grips the hem of his shirt with one hand. The guys in the car laugh as he starts to do a ‘sexy’ dance.

Seemingly satisfied, they start up the car to drive away.

Yunjin bites the inside of her cheek, making a decision. She tightens her grip on the bottle and chucks it at the receding car with all his strength.

The car slams on the brakes as the bottle smashes against its rear window. Suddenly screeching in reverse, Heeseung narrows his eyes at Yunjin. “The fuck, Yunjin? They're gonna kick our ass, not yours!”

Yunjin shrugs, crossing her arms. “Only if they catch you. Show them how fast the Yellowjackets can run!”

All three share a look before hauling ass as fast as they can. Beomgyu can’t help the laughs that come out, causing his friends to laugh along with him sprinting down the alley.

EXT. SKU HIGH HALLWAY

As students make their way to first period in a preponderance of unisex flannel, there’s a teacher on hall-duty. She's doing her best to look authoritative. Her results are middling.

“Slow it down, Mr. Kim. There are rules against running in the hall. I assume. I haven't seen any official documentation, but the other teachers seem pretty against it, so...” her voice trails off as she turns a corner to find Assistant Coach Choi San.

Early graduate and alumni, he landed a job as Assistant coach fairly easily. His good looks seem to have an obvious impact on her as he gives a friendly smile.

“Hey, Arin! Did you talk to Coach?”

“Who?” Arin pauses, tapping her chin. “Oh, Baekho. Yeah.”

San tilts his head to the smile, smile unmoving. He has a kind and calming presence that leaves her feeling unguarded, an effect he seems to have on mostly everyone.

“So... are you in?”

Arin laughs nervously, “Well, it's like I said, I don't really know anything about soccer.” San opens his mouth to counter but she raises her hand to stop him. “Like at all.”

“C’mon think of it as a paid vacation… we’ll have fun. Besides, we already qualified for Nationals. I think we're good on the soccer front.”

As if suddenly realizing Arin’s lips separate with a sigh of air.

“Oh, you’re going too?”

San raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. The uniform he’s wearing doesn’t help to hide his muscles much at all. He continues as if it’s obvious. “I'm the assistant coach. Wait… why do you think I dress like this?”

This is new information to Arin but considering how good looking he is, she supposes it makes sense. Finally, she gives into his pushing with a small smile.

“Well, I guess if it would make the school board happy to have a girl there. I mean.. woman. I-I mean.. go Jackets! Haha..”

San grins, raising his fist up teasingly to bump it against her own. “Buzz, buzz, buzz! That's great, really. Welcome aboard.”

She’s unclear if he’s purposely flirting and hopes that it’s just in his nature to act this way. “Thanks. Maybe you could teach me some of the basics? I probably should know some stuff…”

San nodded, the creases by his eyes irritatingly adorable. “Yeah, sure. Can you come to practice this afternoon?”

Arin frowns. “I have a make-up bio lab. Myung Jaehyun, the whole Lyme’s disease situation. But we could grab a drink tonight?”

A look of surprised crossed San’s features before he nodded in agreement. Clapping her hands together, Arin hummed. “It's a date! I mean, not a date, date. It's a plan. A friendly agreement.”

INT. COED SOCCER TEAM LOCKER ROOM

The locker room was irritating to say the least as the sound of doors slamming shut and idle chatter rang about.

Leehan stares miserably at the mirror as Yeonjun paints a bee on his cheek. Around them, there's a flurry of activity as the rest of the team changes into uniforms and applies face paint.

“Leehan. You okay?” The boy nods and Yeonjun gives him a brotherly smile.

“It’s just a pep rally. All we have to do is run in and then stand there looking good. Honestly, I think the whole point is just to give freshman something to fantasize about later.” Leehan frowns, giving Yeonjun a haughty look as he snickers.

“I'm not nervous.” Leehan begins. Before he can continue, Y/N peeks her head in through the door. “Yeonjun?”

They look over to see her leaning in the doorway. “Coach wants to see you in his office.”

As Yeonjun passes off the brush to one of his teammates, he gives Y/N a friendly smile as he gently moves past her. Leehan pouts as Kai, his terminally cheerful teammate finishes painting his bee.

“I'm the only freshman who got asked, you know. And now it doesn't even matter. It's so unfair.”

Leehan pouts, scandalized by the sheer injustice. At the other end of the mirrors, Taehyun rolls his eyes with Beomgyu and Soobin.

“My suit was gonna be amazing. I mean— I even bought us matching accessories.” Kai gave him a smile, voice almost diplomatic as he tried to lend him some empathy their other teammates weren’t extending.

“Well, at least you can wear it next year.” Leehan gives him a withering look before speaking with total sincerity.

“You don’t get it Kai, because nobody asked you.”

Kai nods, trying to look sympathetic. “You’re done.” Despite his attempt, there was a hint of annoyance in his sweet tone.

Leehan looked in the mirror and smiled before walking off. Y/N pushed herself off of the doorway as he walked out past her, groaning as she looked into the mirror to touch up her makeup.

“Jesus Christ. Maybe someone should tell Prince Charming over there to worry less about prom and more about not fucking up at Nationals.” Taehyun crossed his arms, watching as she fixed up her hair.

“If he plays like he did at States...” As Taehyun assessed Leehan in his mind, he shook his head. “That’s not gonna happen. I’ll handle it.” Raising an eyebrow at him through the mirror, Y/N smiled as she widened her eyes dramatically. “Ooh, scary.”

INT. COACH SIM’S OFFICE

Trophies and equipment were riddled within cinderblock walls of the Coach’s office. It was much less picturesque compared to the rest of the school.

On the desk a photo sat of him, his wife and his two sons. To Yeonjun, everything looks like it smells like coffee and cigarettes.

Coach Sim gestures to the chair in front of his desk. Lighting a Marlboro, he glances up at Yeonjun.

“I'm going to talk to you like an adult. Is that okay with you?”

Yeonjun gets the sense that it's a favorite question of his by the tone he took. Cautiously, he nods.

“Do you know why I made you team captain this year?”

Yeonjun tries to project an air of mature humility as he goes to answer but is cut off. “Obviously it isn't because you're our best player.”

Even though he knew that he agreed deep down, he bit his tongue as he waited for him to finish.

“Soobin’s faster, Kai’s got you on footwork by a mile, and Taehyun, well, he could have a real future in the sport, maybe.”

Letting out a sigh he wasn’t aware he had been keeping in, Yeonjun decided to pry. “Is this... a pep talk?”

“Yeonjun, you possess something nobody else on this team has: influence. When it gets tough out there, these kids are going to be looking for someone to guide them. Can you handle that?”

There’s a beat as Yeonjun considers. It’s a heavy duty to take on but as the oldest of his team, he decides that it should be him to shoulder the burden.

Yeonjun nods, the picture of determination. “Don't worry, Coach. I've got this.”

EXT. SKU GYM

The boys baseball team stands lined up behind the vice principal at a podium on the gym floor. “Alright, let's hear it for the boys! Let's give them a hand.”

The bleachers are packed with students, exhibiting the various levels of enthusiasm you'd expect from a mandatory pep rally. Supportive shouts from the other jocks, eye rolls from the burnouts and everything in between.

The principal sighs, “Thanks, guys. You did your best.”

At the edge of the court, Coach Sim stands with Assistant Coach San and Sunoo, the team’s equipment manager. “Now, our next act needs no introduction. Let’s all make some noise for your Soccer Champions!”

As music starts to blare from the speakers, the crowd goes— well, not wild, exactly. It is high school soccer. But it’s okay, because Sunoo is fired enough for everybody. Pumping his fist, WOO-ing for all he’s worth to motivate his friends.

Coach San glances at him, amused, as the team jogs onto the court. Each member exhuding all confidence and grace. Like storming gladiators in a way, Sunoo’s enthusiasm seems contagious as the applause builds, feet rumbling against wooden bleachers.

“BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!”

EXT. WILDERNESS (UNKNOWN)

Pink strains of dawn are just starting to peek through the dark silhouette of trees. There’s the sound of rope, pulled taught against wood, a rasping creak.

The runner’s corpse now hanging upside down by the rope binding his ankles. Snowflakes drift through the early light as the hunter and a new figure, the butcher, work to hoist the body from a tree branch.

After a beat of silence, another figure— the overseer— joins them. There’s a moment, before they nod their approval.

There’s splashes of blood hitting the snow, ruining its’ delicate state as the butcher slits the runner’s throat with a hunting knife. Bleeding him out like a prize buck.

EXT. SKU HIGH COURTYARD

As Soobin exits the school, he approaches Beomgyu, Y/N and Taehyun who seemed to be conferring in hushed tones on their way to practice.

“This is what we've been working for all season. You really want to take that chance?” Taehyun asked, kicking at the ground.

Beomgyu scoffed, “Yeah. 'Cause I'm not a fucking asshole.” Doe eyes wide and alert, Soobin pulled on the strap of his backpack. “What are you guys talking about?”

They all glance towards Leehan, messing around playfully with some other freshmen on the other side of the courtyard.

“Leehan.” Y/N says simply. Soobin’s lips press into a frown, “What about him?”

“Did you black out at States? He totally choked.” Taehyun says. Beomgyu sighed. Taehyun’s competitive nature for sport was no secret but he still couldn’t help but find his annoyance harsh.

“He’s a freshman, Tyun.” Taehyun just frowned. “He’s a liability.” Soobin glances in Yeonjun’s direction uncertainly. Talking with Chaewon and her friends, he seems completely oblivious to his own teams’ conspiring.

“What do you want to do about it?” Soobin asked wearily. Beomgyu gives Taehyun a look. “Go ahead. Tell him.”

“He can't screw up if he doesn't get the ball.” He said simply. Soobin frowns. “You want to freeze him out?”

Beomgyu scoffs, “We'd basically be a man down. At Nationals.” Although he’s trying to rationalize, it just seems to add more tension to the situation.

“At least we'd know what we're working with.” Taehyun says. “I don't know, Tyun. He kinda sucks, but... it doesn't feel right.” Y/N says, crossing her arms as she looks over toward Leehan.

Beomgyu scoffed, expecting more defense from her. “That's because it's bullshit.” Taehyun scoffs this time. What he wants to say is fuck you but rather than that, he decides to bite his tongue. “Oh yeah? What's your plan, then?”

Beomgyu shook his head, “I dunno, play like a fucking team and win? It's worked so far.”

The tension in the group was clear, Y/N picking at her nails with her eyes cast downward. Soobin seemed to pick up on her anxiety and offered her a squeeze on the shoulder.

Taehyun and Beomgyu didn’t butt heads as often as the rest of them but when they did, it was obvious to stay clear.

“Everything works until it doesn't.” Taehyun argued. “And for the record, you smell like a wino. Get your shit together Gyu.”

Beomgyu takes a step towards him and glances at Y/N, then changes his mind. “You know what? Fuck this.” Beomgyu stalks off, shoulder checking Taehyun as he leaves. Soobin lingers back fully considering what Taehyun was proposing.

“Yeonjun’s not gonna like it.” He said. Taehyun huffed. “Then we probably shouldn't tell him.” Soobin hesitates before nodding.

EXT. SKU HIGH SOCCER FIELD (PAST)

Students in various athletic— soccer track— tread lightly as they head out to their respective fields.

Taehyun, Soobin and Y/N arrive just behind Beomgyu as Yeonjun finishes leading the rest of the team through a series of stretches.

Coach San clapped his hands together to get their attention. “Okay, circle up!” There's a short whistle blast as Coach San jogs onto the field.

“JV's gonna help us out with a little scrimmage today. Coach Sim had to take care of a family thing, so grab a pinny from Sunoo and let's get started.”

“Excuse me, Coach San? Shouldn't we say the lords’ prayer?” Jungwon’s voice asked gently and Niki groaned, leaning back on the field with a ‘thud’.

It wasn’t that Jungwon was particularly annoying or pushy about his religion, he was just certainly pert and could get on your last nerve. A few members of the team roll their eyes and glance over as Coach San expectantly who just chuckles.

“It's.. just a scrimmage, Jungwon.” Off his insistent look, he sighs and nods towards him. “..Sure. Knock yourself out.”

The team reluctantly forms a circle, heads bowed, hands joined as Jungwon recited the lords’ prayer.

Regardless of what anyone on the team thought, these circles had became a tradition at this point due to his sheer persistence and belief in them.

The scrimmage began shortly thereafter and as it progresses, Soobin dribbles upfield, easily maneuvering around the JV defender.

Leehan races open on his left but Soobin ignores him, opting for a trickier pass to Kai. When Beomgyu darts in and redirects the ball to Leehan who fumbles, then panicking as the defense closes in, sending a wild pass out of bounds.

As Coach San’s whistle blows, Beomgyu throws Soobin and Taehyun a defiant look of disappointment.

Soobin and Taehyun work together to keep Leehan out of the play throughout the game as Beomgyu undermines their efforts every chance he gets. Yeonjun shoots Soobin a look as to ask ‘what the fuck is going on?’

Taehyun gestures for a time out and jogs over to Coach San. As hard as he focused, Beomgyu couldn’t hear their conference, but he got the gist when Taehyun strips off his red pinny. He hands it over to the JV sweeper playing against Leehan, switching sides and sticks his tongue out teasingly at Beomgyu.

“C'mon, Varsity. Your own defense wants to see you step it up. And frankly, that makes two of us.” San clapped his hands together encouragingly, “Let's see some hustle!”

San blows the whistle and JV kicks off, this time with Taehyun playing for the other side. He’s all over Leehan: crowding, holding and talking shit per usual.

There’s another pass to Leehan, when Taehyun slide tackles him hard. As the ball rolls out of bounds, and the whistle blows foul Yeonjun finally voices his irritation.

Jogging up to Taehyun, he grabs his shoulder. “What's your problem? Are you- okay? Did something happen?” Playing dumb, Taehyun jerks his shoulder out of his grip. “What?”

Confused, Yeonjun pouts. “Just… ease up on the kid.” Soobin watches the interaction, then works his way closer to Taehyun as the players get ready for the inbound throw.

“C'mon, Tyun. This isn't helping.” Taehyun shrugs. “If we can't freeze him out, he’s gonna have to learn to play under pressure.” He rationalizes.

Before Soobin can respond, the coach’s whistle blows and play resumes. Taehyun’s strategy is set in action as he stays on Leehan taking a beating, frustrated. Only the harder Taehyun goes, the more the team realizes his strategy is working.

Leehan grimaces in concentration, negotiating the ball around Taehyun with a slick cruyff turn. In the corner, Leehan shoulders Taehyun hard to clear space for a pass and he chuckles in disbelief.

Leehan sprints to get open, Taehyun hot on his heels. Soobin fires a long lofted pass. Leehan and Taehyun are both vying for the ball as it arcs high in the air when Leehan jumps for a header and Taehyun instinctively juts his foot out, catching his ankle as he comes back down.

There's a sickening, audible snap as Leehan’s leg seemingly collapses. Buckling and breaking in a compound fracture that is a total peversion of the human form.

There's a beat of silence— an eerie stillness— as Leehan collapses on the field. Jagged bone puncturing the skin, blood spreading, soaking into the grass as he screams before all hell breaks loose.

Y/N screams as someone else begins to cry— Kai covers his mouth to try and swallow the nausea that arose. Taehyun backs away, stunned, horrified, as Coach San rushes to Leehan’s side.

Despite the fact he should keep his cool, he lets it slip out of sheer disbelief of the situation. “Holy fuck.” Trying to keep his shit together, he takes a deep breath. “Just— We need an ambulance. There's a phone in the coach’s office. Sunoo! Go.”

Sunoo nods, like a soldier in battle for some reason, before taking off. San watches for a beat before pulling himself back to reality. “Shit. Just— keep him calm! Don’t move him.”

He takes off after Sunoo as Soobin approaches Leehan, hyperventilating on the ground. He looks around, trying to find Yeonjun. He finds him pale, wide-eyed, frozen in place.

Knowing he should do something but hesitating, unsure of what to do. As if one wrong move could shake the entire balance of the team.

“Yeonjun.”

Soobin calls for him but he doesn’t move. His eyes are shot as he stares, seemingly in a bit of shock. Steeling himself, Soobin gets down on the ground, trying not to look at the leg and all the blood. Taking Leehan’s hand he tried to muster up a comforting smile, though his face was contorted in discomfort.

“Hey, look at me, Leehan. You're going to be fine. I'm right here.”

Beomgyu quickly joined him on the ground, dropping to his knees. “We're all right here. Okay?”

Soobin glances at him, grateful. As Leehan looks up at them and nods, shaky, he was clearly in shock.

INT. COED SOCCER TEAM LOCKER ROOM

There’s near silence as the team changes. Everyone is still a little shell shocked from what happened. An edgy feeling. Something combustible in the air.

Taehyun is sitting by himself. Everyone else is avoiding eye contact except Beomgyu, who's giving him a death glare.

Yeonjun looks around at his team before taking a deep breath.

“I know we're all worried about Leehan. But… I really think we need to focus on the positive right now! It might not be as bad as it looks.”

Beomgyu scoffs at Yeonjun’s blind optimism.

“You could see his fucking bones, Yeonjun. I'm pretty sure it's exactly as bad as it looks!”

Kai covered his mouth and turned away, “Oh god. I think I'm gonna puke again...” Beomgyu put his hand on his back gently.

Yeonjun glares at Beomgyu, unused to his authority being questioned. Trying to recover the situation, he sighs.

“I mean we’re still a team. And we still have each other, okay? And…” Jungwon swallowed. “We have faith.”

Y/N groaned, rolling onto her side as she pushed herself to sit up on the bench. “This wasn't exactly a big win for the power of prayer, Wonnie.”

Jungwon gave a nervous smile, “the world works in mysterious wa-” There’s a loud bang as Beomgyu slams his locker, giving Soobin a particularly nasty look as he storms out.

“Okay… guess he’s not up for a theological discussion.” Yeonjun shoots Y/N a look and she simply shrugs.

INT. SOOBIN'S HOUSE

Soobin and Yeonjun sat in a cramped attic room in a ramshackle house. Faded wallpaper, and soccer trophies littering the shelves.

“I don't know, it feels weird to just go like nothing happened...” Soobin said. Yeonjun sat putting on concealer at a small light-up vanity. Admiring his reflection, he made sure it was blended perfectly to cover anything up.

Satisfied, his attention shifts to the photos on the desk— him and Soobin at various ages. A talent show. The beach. Halloween.

“I mean, it's not like skipping the party is going to un-fuck Leehan’s leg. Plus, it's tradition. And we're already missing prom...”

Yeonjun sits back, fingering the chain around his neck. Then, bored, he starts opening vanity drawers. He pulls out an old prayer card of the Virgin Mary, turning it over.

“Oh my god, remember when you tried to get your mom to let you become Catholic? What did you call it?” Soobin, still shaken from the afternoon ruffles his hair in the mirror as he fixes his shirt over his jeans.

“My ‘spiritual awakening.’” Yeonjun snickers, “You were such a weird kid. What were you, like, nine?” Then, Soobin walks out into the room. “Eleven. I liked the saints. They were all so tragic.”

Yeonjun gives the basic outfit a once-over. Shaking his head no. As Soobin heads back into the closet, Yeonjun begins. “Lucky you had me to save you from yourself... You know, Kazuha’s going to be at the party tonight.”

Soobin gave Yeonjun a confused look, “Um, okay..” Yeonjun hums. “She asked Chaewon to ask me if you were gonna be there...” Soobin reemerges in the same jeans with a new white button up.

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow. “Definitely not.” Soobin crosses his arms. “Kazuha? Really?”

Yeonjun shrugs. “What? She’s basically Chaewon’s best friend. I just thought you might want to know she asked about you... plus she’s pretty quiet and respectable. Opposites attract or whatever.”

Soobin stares at himself in the mirror as Yeonjun begins to toss a stress ball up in the air, catching it and repeating. “So I’m not respectable?” Yeonjun snickers but Soobin just glares at himself in the mirror.

“I don’t need a girlfriend right now.” There’s a snap in his tone and Yeonjun looks over confused. “Jesus, I wasn’t saying you had to marry the girl.” Soobin doesn’t respond, trying to find another outfit that suites his friends’ standards.

“Whatever— are you ready, or what? C'mon, we're gonna be late...”

EXT. WOODS - NIGHT

Deep in the woods. Moving towards the glow of a fire, somewhere amongst the trees was a gathering of students. Hundreds, maybe.

A souped-up 4runner barrels in, a dented keg secured in the back. Teenage boys jump out to heave the keg to the ground as several other cars pull up alongside.

Soobin huffed as he realized they’re at a typical teenage hang-out spot. More specifically, the site of Kim Chaewon's famous annual kegger.

Moving through the crowd, Yeonjun and Soobin stood red solo cups in hand hanging with Chaewon and her friends. Yeonjun hits a bong as the girls laugh, Chaewon leaning into him to playfully mess up his hair.

There’s a few jealous stares from unknown sources as Yeonjun holds court, putting on a show. He turns away from Chaewon and grabs Soobin’s hand to insist he takes a hit.

Resistant, Soobin instead chugs his beer. Heeseung makes his way past the scene, finding Beomgyu and Yunjin. “You guys. My cousin hooked us up.”

Beomgyu’s eyes light up with a sparkle. “You got it?” Heeseung grins, holding out his hand to reveal several tiny squares of paper.

“I have six words, my friend. Lucy. In. The. Sky. With. Diamonds.” Yunjin rolled her eyes, laughing. “That is, like, literally the least efficient way to say that.” As Beomgyu snatches one of the tabs from his palm, Yunjin grabbed his hand.

“Dude. Don't you guys leave for the Olympics or whatever tomorrow?” Beomgyu paused, swallowing the lump in his throat as he thought about leaving. Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

“Yeah. We do.” He gave them both a look, daring either to say anything else. Yunjin shrugs as if it’s not her problem. Beomgyu takes the hit and Heeseung laughs.

Beomgyu closes his eyes for a moment, letting it dissolve as Heeseung’s arm finds a home on his shoulder.

“We are gonna ace that shit, my friend. We are champions.”

Somehow through the buzz of the party, Soobin found himself watching Yeonjun and Chaewon from a distance. A feeling of uneasiness and irritation at how easy it was for them to resume their relationship. His expression was unreadable.

Soobin rolls his eyes in disgust, then drains his cup. Heading for the keg to get another, he stumbles a bit only to find Taehyun already waiting for a beer.

Taehyun doesn’t notice him getting on line behind him at first but Soobin makes sure he does. “I admire your resilience, Tyun. It can't be easy knowing you fucking crippled someone today.”

Taehyun turned, eyes wide for a moment before realizing how completely shit-faced his friend was. Frowning for a moment, he hummed before giving him a forced smile.

“Cool. Good talk.” He starts to walk away, when Soobin shakes his head. “Just admit you did it on purpose.” Taehyun scoffs, turning toward him. “Excuse me?

Soobin pouted, stumbling to a halt as Taehyun walked back up to him. “You heard me.” Taehyun shook his head. “You know me, I wouldn’t have done that on purpose. I’m not heartless.”

Soobin threw his cup on the ground to emphasize his point. “You’re a fucking sociopath!” People started watching now, the argument garnering the attention of a few of their teammates as they head over.

Although the words hurt, Taehyun didn’t bother to argue back. The guilt lingering in him refused to let him defend himself. “You're wasted, Soobin.”

Kai makes his way over and puts a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, ready to lead him away. “Hey, Soobin, take it easy...” he shrugs it off.

“Good news, you guys. We don't have to worry about the Leehan problem anymore. Taehyun fixed it for us!” Jungwon’s eyes widened and he looked at Jay who shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“What's he talking about?”

Beomgyu walked over, jaw locked as he clenched his teeth. “He’s talking about Taehyun’s little plan.”

Taehyun scoffs, “Please. Since when do you give a shit anyway? Don't you have a bong to hit or a dick to suck, or something?”

Soobin jumped to Beomgyu’s defense. “Hey. Don't talk to him that way.” Beomgyu laughed. “Oh, fuck off, Soobin. I don't need you to defend me anymore. Last I checked, you were fine with the whole ‘freeze him out' strategy...”

Jungwon scratched his cheek, look of confusuon only worsening. “Seriously, what are you guys talking about?”

Soobin and Beomgyu’s voices boomed out in unison, “Shut the fuck up, Jungwon!”

Stepping forward, Niki chimed in. “Don’t talk to him like that, what the fuck?”

As the situation continues to escalate, Yeonjun finally seems to catch wind of the brewing fight. He frowns, heading off in the direction of the keg. Only to confront a full-on verbal barrage, everyone yelling at once.

Jungwon shot a glare at Kai. “Let me finish! LET ME-” Kai ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You interrupted me!” Soobin leaned into Taehyun’s face, pointing at him. “Go ahead and say that again, dickhead.”

An even bigger crowd gathered and Kazuha twirled a strand of hair around her finger, Chaewon standing idly by her. “Boys are so catty, aren’t they?” She hummed. “So aggro…”

Yeonjun storms in, taking in the situation at hand. “That’s it.” Thrusting himself into the middle of the maelstrom and extending his hands between Soobin and Taehyun, he shouted.

“Enough!”

Everyone stops as Yeonjun crosses his arms, glaring. Then, turning on his heels he motions for them to follow.

“Yellowjackets, WITH ME. NOW.”

The rest of them watch as he stomps off into the woods beyond the bonfire. Clearly expecting them to follow suit. There’s a beat of silence, before one after one, they do.

Soobin is the last to hold out. As he reluctantly follows the rest of the team. Yeonjun is pacing in front of his teammates like a body-glittered Patton. Sizing them up. A few look a little drunk. All of them look fucking miserable. Beomgyu, in particular, looks unsteady, as the acid starts to kick in.

“I don't know what the fuck that was, but I do know that it's over. We're about to go to Nationals, you guys. Nationals. And based on what I'm looking at right now, we might as well not even bother getting on that plane.”

He thinks for a second. “Alright, everybody line up… I'm fucking serious. LINE UP.” Almost as a reflex to his tone, they do. Then, a small smile playing on his lips, he continues. “I'm going to talk to you like adults. Is that okay with you?”

A few smile as they recognize the coach’s catchphrase. “Coach is always telling us that you can't win without three things. Talent. Trust. And respect.” Yeonjun taps his foot impatiently.

“I mean, Coach also talks a lot of bullshit, but I'm pretty sure he's right about that. So here’s what we’re gonna do. I want each of you to go down this line and say one nice- true- thing about every other person on this team.”

The others exchange looks. “Is he fucking serious?” Niki asked.

Dragging his feet into line, Jay threw the rest of them a confused look after having missed a majority of the argument.

“What is this, fucking Boy Scouts?” Yeonjun ignored the comment with a slight tsk before continuing, “Who wants to go first?”

Nobody makes eye contact before finally. “I’ll go, Yeonjun.” Solemnly, Jungwon steps out and walks to the end of the line. Starting with Taehyun.

“Taehyun, you are beautiful in the eyes of the lord.” Taehyun lets out an exasperated exhale before Jungwon steps over to Kai who gave him a smug smile.

“Kai, you are beautiful in the-” Y/N groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Oh my god this kid…” Yeonjun sighed, clapping his hands together.

“He took one religious class for the grade point and they brainwashed him… free my man Jungwon.”

“Jungwon, fall back!” Jungwon falls back into line between Jay and Niki as Yeonjun puts his hands on his hips, foot tapping impatiently.

“Fuck. Fine, I'll go first.” He walks over to Taehyun and looks him directly in the eye. “Kang Taehyun, you have more fight in you than anyone I've ever known. I’m inspired by your determination and hard work.”

He then steps over to Kai.

“Huening Kai, your smile makes me feel happy, every time I see it. You’re the undeniable force that holds us all together.”

Next, Jungwon.

“Jungwon, I truly admire your faith and kindness. You’re insanely skilled for your age and I can’t wait to see you take over this team.”

Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek, pulling at the skin inside anxiously as his head spins, the acid worsening the effects. “Beomgyu, I love that you don't care what anybody else thinks. You're more completely yourself than anyone else I know and you are incredibly warm, even if you don’t think so.”

Glancing down the line, Yeonjun’s heart swells. “Y/N. Your ambition inspires me. I have no doubt you're gonna take over the world some day.”

Kai snickered, “She's also deadly at beer pong.”

Yeonjun clapped his hands together, jumping excitedly at the comment. “Well, go ahead then. Tell her. C'mon, guys. If we do this one at a time, we'll be here all night...”

Rolling their eyes with affection, the members shyly start to turn to each other. Turning to Jungwon, Kai tapped his elbow with his finger. “Jungwon, you... have really shiny hair?” Raising an eyebrow, Jungwon gave him a confused smile.

Beomgyu swallowed down the dryness in his throat, clearing it quickly before looking Y/N in the eyes. “Y/N L/N, you never talk shit unless someone really deserves it.“ he paused for a moment, eyes traveling to the top of her head before he chuckled. “I… also really like your pilgrim hat.”

Y/N who was— definitely not wearing a hat— had a look of confusion before shaking her head, deciding to accept the strange compliments and move on. “Um… Okay..?”

Then, as Soobin approaches Taehyun, he takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry for what I said before. About you-”

Taehyun shakes his head, nudging Soobin. The two grew apart in recent months but there was still the remnants of a connection.

“I didn't, you know. Mean to hurt him.” Soobin isn’t sure if he believes him but he could tell that, if nothing else, Taehyun wanted it to be true.

Soobin nods when Yeonjun approaches. “Hey guys. Are we cool?” Soobin looks at him and shrugs. “I dunno. You still haven't said anything nice about me.”

Taehyun chuckles as he goes over to Kai who was waving him over. Yeonjun rolls his eyes, voice laced with sarcasm. “Choi Soobin, you're a fucking laugh riot.”

The smile on his face falters slightly at Soobin’s pout, shaking his head. “Okay, fine.” Yeonjun grabs Soobin’s hand.

“You're a clumsy dancer, you've got seriously questionable taste in music, and you can't hold your liquor for shit... but you’re also the smartest person I know and the only one who's always been there for me. You're the best friend I've ever had.”

His voice was laced with sincerity, “You know that, right?”

Quietly, Soobin agreed. “Yeah. I know.”

“And you should have told me about Taehyun and Leehan.” Soobin nods, he knows that too. Or at least, doesn't want to fight about it. The fight's gone out of him for now.

“Now, c'mon. Let's get you home.”

Yeonjun tugs on Soobin’s hand, wishing it felt better than it did. It felt off compared to any other time he had, it felt colder.

As the party winds down. Empty cups and beer cans remain, a few holdout couples still making out. The bonfire is burned down to embers now as Beomgyu continued tripping balls.

Looking around at his friends and classmates, their faces strange, distorted. Wrong. He turns away, afraid. Suddenly spotting Y/N standing alone amongst the trees, at the edge of darkness. Watching.

“Y/N?” His voice comes out hushed, confused.

Y/N’s face also begins to shift and warp. Beomgyu squeezes his eyes shut, regretting putting himself in a bad trip. When he reopens them, Y/N is gone off somewhere. He focuses his eyes onto the dying flames of the fire.

EXT. WILDERNESS (UNKNOWN)

Another bonfire, in another place, at another time. Meat is roasting over makeshift spit, fat hissing as it drips into the flames... a set of hands works on a hatchet and hunting knife over flesh and bone.

There’s the sound of faint humming, the person lost in the task at hand. High and clear.

A naggingly familiar, haunting melody.

'It seems no one can help me now, I'm in too deep, there's no way out. This time I have really lead myself astray...'

EXT. BACKSTREETS (PAST)

As Soobin rides in the front alone, Yeonjun sits with Chaewon in the back, leaning her forehead against the cool pane of the window. They ride in silence, as the radio plays.

“Turn on here, it's faster.” Soobin glances back in the rearview mirror, annoyed. “Chaewon’s house is on the way.” Yeonjun groaned, kicking the back of his seat. “C'mon. I'm past curfew.”

Chaewon chuckled. “I have a curfew too, you know.” Yeonjun gave her a sheepish smile, “Yeah, but. I mean, you know what my parents are like.”

Soobin sighs, there's no point in arguing. Yeonjun gets what Yeonjun wants. As Chaewon rolls down her window, letting the cool night air wash over her face, she sighs.

Soobin cuts the headlights and pulls quietly up to the curb, watching as Yeonjun and Chaewon climb out and exchange a quick hug before Chaewon gets in the front— an end of night ritual they've repeated countless times.

As they pull away, Chaewon gives a quick wave from the window flashing that patented, easy the-world-is-ours grin, for a moment, still and beautiful and perfect in the moonlight.

Soobin and Chaewon- now in front- drive alone down a dark two-lane road in a remote, wooded part of town.

“Pull over.” Chaewon says.

“Are you gonna puke? Don't puke in my car, Chaewon.” Soobin’s voice is laced with disgust and Chaewon rolls her eyes.

“Just pull over. Here.”

Soobin turns down an access road. As the car rolls to a stop, there’s a beat as the two both sit, staring out the windshield in silence.

“I thought we weren't doing this again.” Soobin said, breaking the silence. Chaewon frowns, “I’m not. Clearly.”

Soobin gives her a confused look and she rolls her eyes. “I just wanted to talk about it. It was a mistake. You know that right?”

Soobin scoffed at the insinuation that it— he was a mistake. “Yeah. Chaewon, I know.” She frowns. “I don’t want it to ruin our friendship— or yours. We both just slipped up, you know?”

Soobin shook his head, leaning into the palm of his hand. “We don’t need to talk about it.” He said, starting the car again.

VARIOUS LOCATIONS - NIGHT

Yeonjun folds his clothes peefectly, tucking them away into his suitcase.

Soobin holds a piece of paper, an official letterhead from his university of choice. Shaking his head, he stuffs the letter in a desk drawer. Then, picking up his suitcase, he takes one look at his childhood bedroom. As though sensing he’s leaving something— some part of him— behind.

Taehyun waits by himself as a taxi pulls into his driveway, struggling to load his own luggages.

Beomgyu sighs, smoking a joint out of the window of his cramped bedroom.

Kai finished packing away his clothes, his younger sister helping him zip up the suitcase. His older sister leaned against the door frame teasing him about having grown up.

Y/N sat staring at the table as her family maid served her breakfast. The chef’s kitchen was enormous her eyes trained on all marble and stainless steel. As the maid pointedly hands her a bottle of loxipene, she watches carefully like a hawk Y/N shakes out a pill and swallows it with juice.

Heeseung looks at himself in the mirror, pulling at his dilated eyes and snickering slightly before shaking his head. Suitcase all prepped and pre-ready, he flicks the bathroom light off.

Jay tiredly tosses his suitcase by his door, throwing himself down onto his bed with an exhausted heave.

Coach Sim loads the trunk of his station wagon with luggage as his two sons, Jake and Sunghoon climb in the back to go.

Sunoo sits at the edge of his pool, kicking his feet in the water with an impassive expression.

Jungwon sat on his knees, saying one last prayer to the small painting on his bedroom wall.

Niki goes into his living room to find his mom passed out on the couch, a bottle of scotch on the coffee table. Rolling his eyes, he grabs the car keys as she starts to awake.

INT. CHARTERED PLANE

The team are together now as they make their way onboard.

The students excitement is palpable as they take in the interior of the plane. It looks pretty much like any other plane except this time: it only belongs to them.

Beomgyu laughed in disbelief, “Wicked.”

Kai leaned toward Y/N excitedly, “I can't believe your Dad paid for a private plane!”

Y/N shrugged, “It's pretty much his only form of parenting, but I guess I'll take it.”

Jay and Heeseung chuckled before chiming in together in a sing-song tone. “Thank you, Mr. L/N!”

Coach Sim shakes his head, making his way down the aisle. “Alright, hustle up and take a seat. We've got a long flight.”

San stands helping Sunoo and Jungwon load their carry-ons into the overhead compartment. Assiduously pretending he doesn't see Arin approaching down the aisle, looking hungover. She gives him a sheepish smile before squeezing past and heading down the aisle.

A few rows back, Soobin and Yeonjun settled into adjoining seats. Soobin looked pale.

Yeonjun nudged him, eyes holding a look of concern. “You alright? They probably have a puke bag, if you need it.”

Soobin nodded, though he didn’t respond. He didn’t necessarily have a fear of flying but for some reason— this particular flight left him uneasy. He chalked it up to the tension building up to their game.

As he glances around the cabin nervously, Yeonjun smiles, rummages in his bag. Pulling out a balled-up tissue tucked deep into one of the inner pockets, he holds it out.

Soobin gives him a confused look.

“Remember when you came with my family to Jeju in second grade? You cried the whole flight.”

Soobin scoffed. “In my defense I was like 8, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun opens the tissue, revealing two pale blue valium pills. “I swiped these from my mom's medicine cabinet. She didn’t even notice.”

Soobin didn’t answer as he gently took the pills in his hand. “I know, I’m the best. And here.”

Yeonjun takes off his chain, linking it around Soobin’s neck instead. “It's a good luck charm. Now nothing can touch you.”

Soobin shakes his head as he swallows the pills, giving Yeonjun a look of genuine appreciation.

The team continues laughing, gossiping and singing. They’re all too swept up in their excitement over the adventure ahead.

As the sound of the plane getting ready to take off gets louder, Soobin’s nails dig into the arm rest of his seat. Yeonjun glances at him, leaning his head on his shoulder in comfort.

There’s a few playful shrieks as the plane lifts off. Soobin’s eyes grow heavy as the sounds of his teammates begin to warp and fade, growing dim as the Valium kicks in.

EXT. WILDERNESS (UNKNOWN)

The fur-clad butcher carries a steaming wooden plank— a makeshift platter— towards the overseer and a ring of acolytes waiting silently in the moonlight.

The overseer turns towards a strange, masked and horned figure: the shaman. Some unspoken agreement passes between them.

The culmination of a strange ceremony begins to unfold. Then, as he gestures to the congregation— they descend, ravenous, coven-like, on the feast. Grease-smeared faces as their teeth hungrily begin to rip and tear meat from its’ bone.

The overseer of the feast pulls back his hood to reveal his face, eyes dim and exhausted. The wreckage of the plane is weathered by sun and rain, grown over with dead winter vines.

INT. CHARTERED PLANE (PAST)

Soobin gasps awake to find himself in a cabin now eerily dark. The engines strain, a deep, terrifying roar. Somewhere behind him, someone screams.

He can’t quite place who it is or what’s happening, all he does is turn to Yeonjun. He shook him, heart racing. He doesn’t move. Across the aisle, Jungwon quietly mutters a desperate prayer.

Frantic, Soobin tries to get his bearings, to make sense of the nightmarish scene. Beside him, Yeonjun remains slumped, his unused oxygen mask dangling limply overhead from the initial loss of cabin pressure.

Soobin yanks up the window shade to see the silhouette of mountains, close and getting closer. The ground rushing up as they glide over a vast forest. Then— one final and deafening BANG!

[velvethana]

HEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

i have made my glorious (not glorious bc i WILL be disappearing occasionally) return

i have some ideas cooking up and yes i know people r like where tf are the fic series u teased (THEY R COMING!!!!) they have been sitting in my notes app bc PCD hit me into next year (I MISS TUBATU!!!)

but i have some stuff i will be posting so i won’t be having a set schedule but i’ll start uploading here and there randomly when motivation hits <3 ily mwah ty for the kind messages hehe

[velvethana]

omggg ur page is sooo cuteee love the effort put into it 🩷🩷🩷 !!!

tysm!! this means a lot to me, ur so sweet 💕

[velvethana]

do u like kpop?

Yes! i LOVE kpop! ☺️

[velvethana]

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ Take A Bite.

After his mysterious disappearance your friend returns with an apparent appetite for human blood.

જ⁀➴♡ wc 2k ✧ angst , vampire!ricky

warning. horror , unnamed character deaths mentioned , loosely inspired by jennifer's body

The last night you had seen him as wholly himself— when your world crashed into his, you belonged to no one.

The swelling in your heart the moment he walked you to your doorstep was swept under the rug, accepting his coat back from you with a smile you’d grown to know over the years.

By the time you collapsed into your bed, the sun was already on its’ way as you remained blissfully unaware of what had happened in the night.

Body throbbing to the faint music ringing in your ears and feet aching from jumping the whole night. The muscles in your cheeks beginning to tire from smiling so much at the tug of your heartstrings.

That was the moment before everything.

When you thought there was love— when you had yet to feel the full force of your reality.

Returning to school the next day, the dense forests surrounding only made you feel isolated as you sat in class, eyes fixated on where he sat— where he should be.

During chemistry you’d considered asking his friends but Matthew would shrug, offering the explanation that he’d simply fallen ill after an overstimulating night.

The school felt off, as if the walls had shifted somehow. Walking down the halls almost felt eerie in a way, the lingering question of where he was remaining.

To others around you, it might have seemed normal— but you knew that it wasn’t.

Ricky would never go out of his way to not respond to you, even if he was busy he’d make sure to share everything with you. Not a single day went by where you weren’t met with tons of notifications from him— photos of what he was eating or small updates through the day.

The silence was off putting to say the least.

Two days had passed when you heard a loud noise in the downstairs of your home.

Tapping away at your laptop, your eyes felt heavy as you hit the backspace over and over. Thoughts of Ricky continued to resurface as you brushed them aside, attempting to focus on your project in favor of your partner Wonyoung.

There was the faint noise— a thud. Everything seemed to still as you wondered if your ears were playing a trick on you, hand hovering over the laptop.

Another unmistakably eerie noise came from downstairs as your blood ran cold. Despite what your mind was telling you, you were dragged to your feet to go investigate.

Against your better judgement telling you to call someone, you found yourself slowly moving downstairs, the usual creaks of the old house echoing excruciatingly loud.

The sound was unsettling, almost haunting: the slow drip of water. One. Two.

It was barely audible yet chilling to the bone.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the noise came again, a bit louder this time, as if beckoning you. Apprehension swirling within you, you felt pulled into the unknown depths of your own house.

If all your senses were heightened, attuned to every sound around you it didn’t help as all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears.

The old wooden steps creak beneath your weight and the sound paused for a moment, only to resume once you paused.

The darkness of the hallway ahead had fear creeping up your spine.

Finally moving to the kitchen, you felt like a lamb led to its own slaughter. With bated breath, you inch forward, footsteps barely audible against the carpet.

And then, there it is again—the eerie noise, louder now.

It's coming from just around the corner, just out of sight.

You take a deep breath and round the corner, heart pounding in your ears. As you inch closer to the source of the noise, the tension mounts, your senses on high alert.

The kitchen faucet leaking periodically, the breath trapped inside your throat finally escaped as you turned the handle, silencing it.

In the back of your mind, you knew that couldn’t have been all. Logically there was a reason behind the strange thuds you’d heard but regardless, your mind attempted to calm you by saying it’s all in your mind.

Turning, your heart stops for a moment as you’re met with somebody. Looking up at him, you let out a sound of relief.

“Jesus, Ricky!” He doesn’t answer.

The kitchen was only lit with the moonlight creeping in through the window, it took you a moment for your eyes to adjust before you recognized the outfit he was wearing. The same outfit you had seen him last.

The scent of metal hit you as you scanned over him, assisting in you finally noticing the amount of blood coating him.

“Ricky…” your voice was shaky, apprehensive and filled with worry. “Are you alright?”

The smell made your head spin, nausea settling deep inside you and he just smiled, teeth coated red.

Without answering, he ended up shuffling through your fridge before you could collect yourself.

Curiously, your eyes followed him as your feet kept you stuck almost like a prisoner in your own body.

He moved faster than you could even react, pushing food aside and out onto the kitchens marble floor before settling on a chicken.

Realizing what he was doing as he shoveled pieces into his mouth, the pit in your stomach simply tightened.

Clearly something had happened— he wasn’t acting rationally or anything like you’d seen before. Some sort of psychotic break you’d assumed had him behaving almost animalistic.

Anxiously, you kneeled down and extended a hand to his back.

“You’re not really supposed to…” your voice trailed off as you cringed at the scene. “Eat it like that.” You finished.

Teeth seemingly rotted as he devoured the raw meat, the realization washed over you that this wasn’t the Ricky you knew— that something had taken over.

For a split second you felt that there was a pleading in his eyes when he looked up at you, a small whine at the back of his throat itching to be let out like a caged animal but all you were met with was the animalistic growl he let out when he harshly pulled away from you.

Your attempt to call for help was put to a stop when you were pinned to the wall in a flash, hands pressed to your side in a vice grip as you felt the bruising already begin to form.

Leaning in, his voice was laced with a tone you’d never heard before. It wasn’t playful but sinister.

“Are you scared?”

All you could do was nod. He laughed.

That night was spent cleaning up all the waste off of the floor. Food carelessly tossed around, covering the floor along with the black substance he had thrown up made your own stomach churn as you’d lost your own appetite.

You weren’t sure how to proceed or even what had happened, the entire thing felt like a scene out of a horror movie.

Something had happened to him— whatever it was must had happened the night the two of you went out.

His stained clothes, hair tousled and knotted with blood drying on its’ tips. Maybe if you had invited him to stay over, you could have prevented whatever it was.

You began to blame yourself all throughout the night: you couldn’t deny it was all your fault.

In the end you had no one else to blame for your life falling to pieces: that’s what you assumed.

There was no way you could have known what he went through, heart racing through his chest as foliage flew back against his face. Feet prints in the mud exposing exactly where he’d gone.

Something was taking over or already had.

That night you’d barely gotten any sleep, project long forgotten as you perused the internet for an explanation or something to try and understand what had happened.

Vampirism— a ridiculous theory.

Maybe it was to absolve some of the guilt you felt— you’d try to reason with yourself and yet you’d always reach the same conclusion. That you could have done something.

Is pain any less valid when it’s self-inflicted?

Doesn't it hurt just as much?

Maybe you were selfish for being upset- maybe you were going crazy.

You were sure you had gone crazy because the next day, he walked down the halls looking just how you’d remembered.

The distraction from the previous night kept you on edge as you shuffled through your locker, trying to put away your books and ignore the heavy feeling of your eyelids.

The sound of the locker next to you swinging open alerted you and you jumped.

“Boo!”

“Jesus— fuck!” Hand on your chest, you tried your best to steady your breathing as you shot a glare at the person in front of you. “Seriously? Again?!”

Ricky was standing there, a smug look on his face. Unlike the previous night he looked put together. Skin perfectly smooth and hair cleanly, he looked a lot like how you were used to.

All you could muster up was a short response, somewhat in shock at his presence. “You’re.. here.”

Ricky gave you a confused look, leaning back against the locker. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I come?”

There was a beat of silence as you gave him an incredulous look. “Why— Why wouldn’t you come? Are you serious? Do you..” looking around, you leaned closer to him.

A look of mutual confusion crossed both of your faces. “Do you remember last night?”

Ricky was silent for a moment before rolling his eyes and looking in the opposite direction of you down the hall.

“What about last night?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What about—?! Bro— you puked venom all over my kitchen!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, did you hit your head or something?” His voice was lacking concern and your face fell for a moment.

“You wish I was with you last night.”

The way he carried himself felt only slightly off, like something was bubbling below the surface.

Shifting under his gaze, you began to consider that your mind was just playing tricks on you. Maybe you were hypnotized by some fabricated delusions and it was all a meaningless nightmare.

“I- um… maybe I’m just tired? Nevermind.”

Seemingly satisfied with that response, he smirked again. “You were really that bored without me?”

Embarrassed, you rolled your eyes as you shut your locker. “Seriously, Y/N. You’re helpless, you need to start doing stuff without me.”

Before you could open your mouth to argue against it, he threw his arm around your shoulder to drag you to class.

Leaning into your ear, you could hear the arrogance in his voice. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

It would have been sweet like all the times he had shown you affection before, if only you didn’t feel his nails sinking into your shoulder.

Life in this town was dull and monotonous; but Ricky made things interesting.

The same could be said about your other friends but there was just something about him that stood out to everyone. Maybe it was his looks that drew you in but his personality made everyone stay.

To say that you were opposites was an understatement. You didn’t possess half of the confidence that Ricky did so when the two of you became friends in elementary school, mostly everyone was surprised.

There were moments his humanity would pop out again. You couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something isn’t right as he was sprawled out comfortably on your bed one moment then sitting up and glaring daggers at you the next.

One moment his voice would break the silence, the familiar gentleness that he used to speak with. “I wish we could've stayed kids, you used to love the softer me.”

It felt as if you were stabbed in the heart, an ache of nostalgia lighting inside you. You wondered if he felt unloved by you now, if he felt you pulling away from him or whatever he had become.

A few more days had passed and he had been acting strange again. Everything had been off lately— students were mysteriously disappearing and everyone was on edge.

Some were in mourning.

The first student to reappear was someone you didn’t know personally but knew of. Some guy from the football team seemingly torn and shredded to pieces like he was attacked by an animal.

It put you a bit on edge but you pushed any conspiracies out of your head, focusing your energy on anything that could keep theories from swirling around in your mind.

You couldn’t blame Ricky’s change in behavior lately, there must have been something to explain it. There was the underlying feeling from that nightmare you had swept under the rug.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you pushed your computer off of your lap to make room for him the way you used to.

A part of you wanted to make him feel loved but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it when it wasn’t true anymore. The Ricky you loved, whoever he was, this didn’t feel like him anymore.

Instead, you offered what you could.

“I think you still have that kid in you.”

Ricky paused for a moment, eyes trailing over your room to look at himself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes narrowed as if mentally exhausted.

“Do I?” There was another beat of silence before he sighed, laying his head onto your now clear lap and looking up at you with a smile.

Reaching up a hand, he teasingly tapped you on the nose. Cringing, you shoved his hand away.

“Hm… maybe I do.”

Over the next few months, you’d gotten used to the change in Ricky. Or at least you tried to convince yourself that you were used to it, in reality your relationship had became a train wreck.

Ricky flaking on plans was unusual but your suspicion came back when he had told you he was going to hang out with a guy— only for said guy to come up a week later dead.

The more times it happened, it became obvious that it had to do with him. Anytime you tried to bring it up, he’d lose his temper and ice you out again.

Maybe it was because you found comfort in familiar places that you decided to let him convince you everything was fine.

Someone that you knew so well, he had changed.

“You’re killing people.” It sounded ridiculous to say out loud. The way he scoffed, brushing you off completely.

“Just some guys, it’s not like they’ll be missed.” This time it was your turn to scoff.

“You— that’s not your right to decide! What.. are you? I mean- what happened to you, Ricky?”

Groaning, he rolled his neck to crack it. “Can’t you just stay out of it?” The tone in his voice made your blood boil, as if he was looking down at you.

As if you were a fly annoyingly buzzing in his ear.

That was when the fight broke out.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” You knew that he was trying to convince you, but you could tell even he didn’t believe that.

He’d flashed the smile you missed so dearly and he pulled you in, hand cradling the back of your head so gently.

The pit in your stomach told you to run— but you didn’t.

Before you knew it, teeth had broken into skin, a sweet venom pulsating under his tongue.

It happened in a flash and you’d thrown him off. All he did was laugh.

There was so much anxiety in the moment— a hint of hope and faith that you had pushed away fast enough.

Some delusional belief that you were an exception, that you were fine. But it was all unnecessary.

Once you let your heart take over, it was already out of your hands. There was nothing you could do to change the fact that it would either work or it won't.

All you could think of in the moment was all the people you had watched die— how you’d knowingly pushed aside your morals to hold onto the ghost of someone who was taken far too early.

There was a time when you considered Ricky one of the brightest things in your life. The ring around your finger he gave you when you were younger, how you’d subconsciously turn it when you were anxious.

There were things you had chosen back in your lunchbox days: clocks to tell the time you’d spent with the heartbeat separate to yours. The heartbeat sitting across from you in the sandbox, drawing shapes on the ground.

The heart that had now gone cold, the heart yours would soon follow.

The items that made up your school days: pencils, erasers, and a book of blank pages with words written on sand through all the ages.

A spoon and bowl he’d brought when you were sick, a phantom meal or a family recipe for you to warm.

A cup to catch the rain— he’d empty half of his into yours to quench your thirst and dull your pain.

After that fight you were down to one, looking down at the tools littering your desk on a Monday night and you couldn't choose.

A knife and a picture of him.

You knew what you had to do to put an end to it all— the gruesome deaths and murders. To hold on to the last bit of humanity you had left in you, it had to be done.

Slowly, you were going to follow in his footsteps— but you’d finish it before you let that happen.

Whatever he had become, you didn’t know it anymore. A million questions remained unanswered but one thing was for certain: you wouldn’t let him hurt anyone again.

Wherever Ricky was now, you’d find him and end things.

Bloodlust and childhood memories were a bittersweet mix, forever bonding the two of you until your end. Although you were convinced that you would be bonded even beyond that.

Sandbox love never dies, after all.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[velvethana]

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ While You Were Sleeping. ⭒ drabble

Against your better judgement you find yourself always returning to him every single time, unspoken feelings lingering in the dark.

There were many times that you had woken up, bathed in the sunlight peeking through the window in a sick game of hide and seek. The settling realization of where you were: in a bed unwelcome, you begin to pick up your clothes as well as the pieces of your heart.

After the fourth or fifth time, you'll get into a routine. Firstly, returning the shirt you'd stolen incidentally in the entanglement you'd found yourself in the previous night. Secondly reminding yourself how you had gotten there.

Dreadful conversations over some cheap alcohol resurfacing in the morning light, a harsh shot of pain in your temple as you remembered the way you'd previously stumbled over your words. How easily he made you flustered when you'd swear to anyone who listened how much you hated him.

The familiar chorus of texts coming from your friends practically pleading for a response.

"Don't tell me you're with him again."

That familiar feeling of embarrassment creeps up again as you study his face in the dim light, the shadow of a curtain just barely covering it up. How peaceful he looked in the moment and for a second you allowed yourself to believe that he was yours, in the same way that you were his.

You slipped up, that was all it was you'd tell yourself as you recollected yourself in the mirror. As quiet as possible to not wake him up because for some reason, you didn't want to disturb his peace. As if somehow affording him that kindness would make up for your own sleepless nights at his hand.

If anyone were to ask where you'd been, you'd do your best to think of a lie. Something believable and not too quick-witted. It had to be plausible but not too ready on your tongue as if you had been thinking of an alibi, itching to convince yourself.

They'd ramble on and on about how much better you deserve as if you weren't lying in a bed of your own making.

A torturous dance between something and nothing.

The urge to run away from something new. A dangerous deadweight looming over your head and shoulders. Just one more kiss and you'd be done. One more night where you feel like his.

Sometimes the moon looked brighter than the sun to you. The hushed words he spoke to you in the moonlight were much more preferred to the silence of the early mornings when you knew he'd inevitably be swept away from you once more.

This time, though, was different.

The usual routine you'd followed each and every time suddenly melted away in the palm of your hands, slipping through the cracks like water as your hand hesitantly hovered over the doorknob.

A sticky note asking for something from you- after all he had taken and given. One simple request.

"What if this time you stayed?"

If only you had been aware of the nights he’d spent tracing circles against your skin, waiting until you were asleep to close his eyes.

How when he closed his eyes to fall asleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about you so long as you were near him. No matter how far away he had been he would always find his mind and heart returning home to you.

Wordless and defeated, you crawled back into the comfort of the familiar silk sheets. It was strange, new. The feeling of his arms winding around your waist had your head spinning as he pulled you close, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

This time, you had stayed. A simple favor from the heart beating so close to your own, bonded together by an unquenchable yearning for the other.

You would learn to be very gentle with this fragile heart and in return he would make sure that you never have another morning where you felt undesired.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[velvethana]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀“⠀⠀BUZZ ! ⠀BUZZ ! ⠀BUZZ ! ⠀”

( — YELLOWJACKETS . ) TEASER

warnings. ♱ (18+). lengthy series. gore. horror. cannibalism. cult activity. college au. swearing. vomit. humor. mildly suggestive. drug use. hallucinations and derealization. no smut. main character death. side character death.

The heart of winter beats still as the sound of hard breaths echo. Steady as he focuses, inhaling and exhaling to push himself to his limits.

The kind of darkness creeping that you only find thousands of miles from the warm, safe home you’re accustomed to. His eyes attempt to adjust as he’s hit repeatedly with the foliage he’s pushing through.

Light filters through boreal woods, giving him brief glimpses of the distance ahead.

Bare feet flying across snow-covered ground, branches lashing at filthy, blood-smeared arms and legs. A scream itches at the back of his throat but he lets nothing out.

Each gasp is a spectral apparition in the freezing air as screams of anguish and hunger echo through the woods.

Occasionally, a gust of wind sends a flurry of snowflakes against the crisp air and right into his face.

He bolts down an incline, when sudden he cries out, falling to his knees. A broken branch pierces his foot, nearly clean through to the other side.

Gritting his teeth, he rips it out and regains his footing, willing himself forward. Pushing through the pain.

Whatever you do— don’t let them catch you.

The woods abruptly give way to a large clearing surrounded by skeletal white birch. The boy halts to a stop at the edge of the glade, breath catching in his throat as he processes what he’s looking at.

Dozens of eyes carved into the surrounding trees. Around them, talismans hang from the branches, fashioned from bough and bone. Suddenly without warning, the overwhelming instinct to scream takes over as he lets out a strangled noise.

The air is filled with eerie, inhuman wails and as his own scream finally adds to the chorus of chaos— the woods fall completely silent.

Almost.

Somewhere behind him, a branch cracks, snapping him out of his terrified trance as he remembers where he is. Gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg, he bolts.

And this time, they let him go.

His body pale in the fading light as he flies across the glade until suddenly— he disappears.

The snow-covered ground opening up beneath him, appearing to swallow him whole.

A figure in animal pelts emerges from the tree line, his face shrouded by the hood of his rough and matter coat. Breath haggard, he approaches the edge of the deep hole that was previously concealed by cover of snow.

A tiger trap.

As he kneels at the edge, peering down through the jagged maw of branches snapped by the runner’s fall, he stares down unmoving.

Splayed at the bottom of the pit. His limbs once swift were bent at terrible, unnatural angles, body imapled on thick wooden spikes.

The bloodied points protrude through his chest, his thigh, his face— now nothing but a gory mess from chin to brow. A small and familiar silver charm glints around her.

The hunter stands, seemingly satisfied. Then, as the furs of his coat part, revealing the tattered and torn soccer shirt.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ