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sluttywoozi · 7 months

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It's Nice To Have A Friend | yjh x f!reader

It's Nice To Have A Friend Masterlist

Rating: T | WC: ~2.8k | Genre: romcom, best friends to lovers, unrequited love(?)

Warnings: alcohol mention, suggestive thoughts

Jeonghan wakes with a start, your body heavy with sleep on his and your warm breaths puffing out over his chest. He was having the most incredible dream and, for once, he remembers every bit of it.

You, in that white dress he’d seen in the store window. You, walking down petal littered cobblestones to meet him at the end of an altar. You, vowing to be his wife and sealing it with a kiss. You, telling him you love him and never want to be apart.

He wants it, desperately. And not just the wedding part, but the married life part too. The grocery shopping together, the decorating the house, the dinner parties where your friends get too wasted and have to sleep over. The brushing teeth side by side, the waking up together every day, the going to sleep side by side every night.

He knows there’ll be hard parts, fights and stress and difficulties to face, but it’ll be the two of you against the problem and you’re a team that never loses.

And maybe he’s a bit hasty in deciding to marry someone he hasn’t even dated, but you’re his best friend in the whole world. There could be nobody better for him than you, and nobody better for you than him. He knows this, and he hopes you know it too.

He also hopes you won’t be too upset if you wake up alone. He’s got some jewelry shopping to do.

Jeonghan can tell you’re confused when he returns to the hotel. He was gone a bit longer than he meant to be, missed breakfast without even leaving a note, but if you were really worried you would have texted him. It appears you’re only slightly worried, waiting for him on the couch as you are with a furrow between your brows and your lip caught between your teeth.

“Where’d you go?” You ask as he lets the door close with a click.

“Just for a walk, I woke up early and didn’t want to disturb you,” he lies, with probably not enough guilt but more than he’d feel for lying to anyone else.

“Oh,” you deflate in relief, “How was the weather? Do you think we could get one more beach day in?”

One more. Right. This trip ends tomorrow, meaning the bubble will pop and you’ll return to your normal lives. Jeonghan can’t stand the thought of going back to a reality where you’re not his wife, but if today goes well, he won’t have to.

“It looked a bit cloudy, but it may clear up in a couple hours. Do you want to go to the farmer’s market at the piazza? We could get lunch and walk around,” he offers, wanting to save the beach until later.

“Yeah! That sounds so nice, let’s go,” you beam, shooting up off the couch to skip to the bedroom and pick out an outfit. He follows at a sedate pace, almost nervous to see what you’ll choose to wear. You only have sundresses left, and those are deadly to him. They were even before he figured out he has feelings for you, but now he really will be in danger of pulling you into some dark alley and ravishing you.

You pick one of the less harmful options, a floral dress that flutters about your thighs but doesn’t cut too low in the front, giving him a chance to not lose his mind today. He thanks you with a kiss and a, “You’re so pretty,” before taking your hand and pulling you to the door, eager to get to the market and find something to eat.

Jeonghan pats his full belly and looks around serenely. You’re next to him on the bench, your face tilted into the sun and your eyes closed as you bask. He’s basking too, but not in the sun.

He’s basking in your presence, in the ability to sit so close to you and hold your hand like this, in the security of knowing that you’ll still be his when you go home, even if his plan doesn’t work out.

Obviously, he hopes it does, but he doesn’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for, and if you don’t want what he wants, he’ll just have to live with it.

He thinks you might, though, want what he wants. You haven’t taken your ring off once, you’ve adapted incredibly quickly to being called Mrs. Yoon, and you’ve already been bickering with him like a married couple for your whole friendship. He knows those things don’t necessarily mean you want to marry him, but a man can dream.

It almost feels like he is dreaming. He’s sitting here on a bench in a piazza on an island off the coast of Italy. You’re here with him. There are wedding rings on your fingers and your thigh is pressed up against his. He can smell coffee and salt on the wind, the sky is completely clear and the bluest he’s ever seen, and every color seems more vibrant, from the teal of the sea to the ruby of the tomatoes for sale 10 feet away.

Your voice stirs him from his thoughts, “I wish we could stay.”

One side of his mouth lifts in a half smile before he presses his lips to your temple, murmuring, “Me too, baby, me too,” as he pulls back just far enough to gaze at you. Your eyes are still closed, the apple of your cheek and slope of your nose naturally highlighted by the sun. You’re wearing a little grin, as if you feel his eyes on you and know exactly what he’s doing.

He doesn’t mind and he definitely doesn’t stop, moving his focus from your face to the elegant arch of your neck and the curve of your collarbones, the spaghetti straps of your dress laying delicately on your shoulders. He wishes he could let his eyes travel lower but, considering the fact that it’s barely noon and you’re in a very public place, he supposes he shouldn’t.

“You gonna stare all day?” You ask teasingly, your head lolling to the side as you peek one eye open at him.

“I just might,” he teases back, knocking his knee into yours and pointedly returning his focus to your face. There’s a zip down his spine when your gaze locks with his, a jolt of electricity that used to feel more like static shock.

You nudge back and soon enough, you’re bumping elbows and knees and giggling like kids, completely unaware of the (mostly) fond looks you’re getting from other people. You spend half the day on that bench, just talking and laughing, before Jeonghan realizes you should probably be getting to the beach.

He jolts to his feet and takes your hand, tugging you behind him to the bus that will take you down to the shore just as it rolls up to the piazza. He’s not tentative about wrapping his arm around you this time, nor is he shy about pulling you into his side when the vehicle jostles you as it makes its way down the narrow streets of the town.

The sea comes into view slowly, as do the duo of lounge chairs Jeonghan requested. The area around the chairs is clear, an almost comical radius of ten or so feet empty before the sand is filled with umbrellas and loungers. The empty space just makes the duo stand out more, and he winces, wishing there was a bit more privacy.

He would have taken you out on the charter again, but the captain wasn’t available on such short notice and they wouldn’t give him a boating license after he admitted to intentionally capsizing four jet skis at once, so the beach it is.

Leading you to the pair of loungers, Jeonghan tries to ignore the shaking of his hands and the unsteadiness of his breaths, hoping you don’t notice either. It appears he gets away with his nerves, your focus on the drink tray and the book waiting for you in your bag. You settle in quickly, reclining in the chair and getting right into the next chapter, leaving Jeonghan some time to get things arranged.

Okay, he’s got the limoncello, he’s got the ring, and he’s got the list. It’s something he put together this morning because he knew you’d need some convincing of the logistics. You can be a very romantic person but you’re not known for your spontaneity, and getting married last minute on a trip to Italy seems like something that requires a bit of that. So, he put together this list addressing everything from what you’ll do when you get home to how many rooms your future house will have. It’s the most planning he’s ever done and his hand aches with all the writing, but it’s worth it if it helps convince you even a little.

He lets you read for a while, knowing you have four chapters left to finish so you can read the sequel on the plane. Your distraction gives him some time to try to calm the racing of his heart and the trembling of his fingers, though no amount of deep breathing seems to be helping.

All he has to do to execute his plan is drop the ring in the limoncello waiting for you. It should be easy, should be stupidly simple, but suddenly, it feels just that - stupid.

Why would he put the ring in alcohol? You’d have to rinse it clean before you could wear it and then you wouldn’t want to drink the limoncello because the ring was in it, and also what significance does limoncello even have? Yes, you’ve been drinking it this whole trip and yes, it may have fueled some of the heat that pushed you to confess to him, but does he really want to include it in your proposal, a story you’ll tell for the rest of your life?

His method of asking you isn’t even the only problem with his plan. It’s far too hot and far too bright, and there’s too many people on this beach, and you’re too exposed thanks to the radius he’d requested and everything is wrong, and he can’t ask you like this, but then how will he ask you?

All Jeonghan wants is to be married to you, he doesn’t understand why getting there has to be this difficult. It should be as simple as just telling you he wants to be with you for the rest of his life and asking if he can be your husband for real.

…

Wait. Why can’t it be that simple?

He turns to you, his mouth open to speak and change both of your lives, and finds you… sleeping. You’re sleeping, your book facedown on your chest and your head tilted towards him.

Jeonghan supposes he can wait a little bit longer.

Something buzzes on Jeonghan’s chest, stirring him from a dreamless slumber. His body feels warm despite the umbrella, the sound of the waves soothing him before he can even get annoyed about being awoken. The first thing he does is check to make sure you’re still there and when he looks over to find you unmoved, he breathes a sigh of relief.

He must have gotten a text, but he’s unsure who might’ve-

Oh. OH.

This is perfect, he thinks, reading the message and reaching over to nudge you awake. There’s not a lot of time to get to the hotel and then to the docks, but he’ll just have to make it work.

“Jeonghan, you don’t even walk this fast in the Lego store, what’s going on?” You huff, trying to keep up with him as he speeds down the wooden planks, your hand held tightly in his and your footsteps sounding behind him.

“You’ll see,” he teases, slowing his pace until you can walk next to him instead, the La Luce Stellare waiting for you just at the end of the dock. The sun is slowly sinking, the warm reds and oranges painting the sky into a perfect backdrop to the gently bouncing boat. It looks like the captain made it even more romantic somehow, with a sheer white curtain arch and fresh flowers all over the deck.

“What’s all this?” Your voice wavers, your steps slowing to a stop as you near the boat. He tries to tug you further, but you’re frozen where you stand.

“Jeonghan?”

He sighs, turning to pull you into his arms and sway you gently, hoping the contact will help you swallow his next few words.

“This is me trying to marry you.”

Your eyes grow wide, your mouth dropping open as if you want to speak but no words come out, just a strangled sound.

You cling to him when he pulls away, shock filling your face as he sinks down to one knee with a shaky grin and both of his hands grasping your left one.

“Y/n… I’m sorry you loved me by yourself for all this time, but I’m here now and I’m so in love with you, I feel like I could do anything. These past few days of being your pretend husband have been the best of my life, and I’m hoping you feel the same way. I’m also hoping that you’ll agree to marry me because I don’t think I can go one more second without being your real husband and having you as my real wife. I’m serious, I’ll throw myself off this dock right now.”

He relays all of this with tears in his eyes and a sincerity that almost scares him, but what’s scarier is the fact that he has no idea how you feel. You’re just standing there, your mouth open and your fingers trembling in his, as you process his words.

The longer he waits, the louder the roaring in his ears gets, the sound eventually overtaking his own shallow breathing and the crashing of waves in the background. He thought you were on the same page, but maybe that’s not the case. If this is too much, if he’s scared you off, if he’s ruined everything, he’ll-

“Yes.” You sound quiet, your voice barely discernible with the buzz still filling his ears.

“Y-yes?” He questions, swaying slightly where he kneels.

“Yes!” You’re more resolute now, with obvious joy in your voice, and through his watery eyes he can see that yours are shining.

The next thing he knows, you’re sinking to the ground and pulling him into a kiss, one that feels like more than a promise, more than forever, one that feels like everything. It sweeps him away before he can anchor himself, has him delving his hands into your hair and pulling you tighter against him as he sighs into your mouth.

He forgets time exists, forgets where he is, what he was doing before, what he’s doing after.

All he knows is you and the taste of your lips and the scent of your hair and the weight of the ring in his pocket.

Oh, right, that’s what he was doing.

He breaks away from you slowly, reluctantly, before reaching into his pants and pulling out the box he’d chosen this morning. It feels like eons ago, as does the clumsiness of his first plan, and he can only hope he still agrees with his choice of the ring that fills it.

It’s simple, elegant, but intricate enough to be interesting, just like you. He thought of you as soon as he saw it, and though he’s never been privy to your engagement ring preferences, he did happen to know your size. His fingers tremble as he plucks it out of the box and slides it onto your fourth digit, the diamonds glimmering in the waning light of the sun. It looks perfect on you, and he drags his eyes away from your hand to seek out your face, unsure of whether or not you’ll agree.

“Do you like it?” He asks apprehensively, brushing his thumb over your knuckles and biting his lip as he waits.

“It’s gorgeous, Hannie. I love it,” you whisper in response, your voice thick with tears. Relief floods his system, almost as much as when you agreed to marry him, and it’s like the last barrier to being with you forever falls away.

Well, the second to last barrier.

Now that the asking is out of the way, he needs to get you on that boat, exchange those vows, and kiss you for the first time as husband and wife.

Should be easy enough, only the slightest bit life-altering, right?

AN: surprise! if i kept this till i was happy with it, it would never see the light of day, so here we are!! there will be a smutty epilogue!!

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khaotunq · 10 months

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Khaotung Thanawat as Ray (Only Friends, 2023)

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aroaceyunarukami · 27 days

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Investigation Team icons! feel free to use if you wanna!

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gunsatthaphan · 8 months

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ok but,,, does that mean that Ray actually hugged his therapist at the end or,,,,?

#only friends #only friends series #only friends the series #only friends ep10 #sandray #ofts #gmmtv #was so immersed in that scene that I forgot it was in his imagination jkdhgdf #god we really cant have nice things can we #and now we're getting sandboeing next week #im not mentally equipped for this #please...#im gonna send jojo my therapy bill after this show is done istg

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chenouttachen · 4 months

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boc said false advertising allowed! this IS a romcom! this IS fun! they ARE in love!

#dff the series #dead friend forever #pheenon #tabarcode #barcode tinnasit #ta nannakun #like this makes it look like they’re having a nice time #and that the episode will be fun #but this show has never been fun #it is only pain #pain pain pain #boc will pay for the pain they’ve caused

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justafriend-ql · 9 months

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you BREAK mew's glasses? you make him get lasik?? oh! oh! jail for the writers! jail for the writers for One Thousand Years!!!!

#why can we never have nice things #only friends the series #ofts

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phefics · 5 months

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𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: pre-fred weasley x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and george smoke on the astronomy tower, and discuss your apparently obvious crush on his twin brother. (series masterpost)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

It was a cool evening in June, only a few weeks left in the school year when you snuck out of your dormitory, accompanied by George Weasley, and snuck up to the Astronomy Tower.

As you sat on the balcony, looking out at the night sky, you felt so incredibly lucky that you had stumbled into the same train car as the Weasley twins on the Hogwarts Express. Ever since that day, you had been inseparable. While Fred had been Sorted into Slytherin, you and George had both been Sorted into Ravenclaw, giving the two of you more opportunities to spend time together. You loved the twins equally, just in different ways.

George was your best friend, your confidant. You had all your classes together, played Quidditch together, lived right down the hall from one another during school. And Fred…Well, it was complicated.

He was also a dear friend, a fellow Quidditch player, someone you trusted and enjoyed spending time with immensely. But he was also impossible to be around lately, with his teasing smirks and his broad shoulders and his effortless humor.

As you had grown up together, Fred had become more than a friend, in your eyes. And it was terrifying, ridiculous, and utterly inconvenient. You had spent so long being completely content with your friendship, and then, almost out of nowhere, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t out of nowhere. Ever since you were young, Fred had always been right there. Making you laugh, hexing the boy who used to bully you in your third year, looking incredibly handsome in just about every outfit he wore, including his mother’s knitted Christmas sweaters.

As you sat with George, your mind swirled with those thoughts of Fred and how it would probably ruin your friendship with both twins if you ever pursued it, a joint burning between your fingers.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” George asked, seemingly out of nowhere, his eyes not leaving the stars as he spoke, as if it were a casual question to pose.

You choked on the smoke in your lungs, hurriedly passing him the still-lit joint to avoid dropping it on the stone floor. It took a moment to regain your ability to breathe, the question having taken you off guard enough to send you spluttering. “What? Who are you even talking about?” you retorted, tone defensive.

“You know who,” George replied, finally turning to you, a knowing look on his face. “I mean, you aren’t very subtle about it, darling.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you avoided his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay, y’know. I’m not jealous or anything. Remember when we ‘dated’ back in Second Year? No offense, but I didn’t exactly feel sparks the one and only time we kissed.”

Laughing, you felt yourself relax despite his little interrogation. “Really? You aren’t upset?”

“Not even a little. I think you guys would be a cute little couple,” he teased. “And you’ll still be my best friend, even if you’re shagging my brother.”

Your blush deepend, and you smacked his shoulder playfully for his crude words. You felt happiness for a moment before the feeling faded into anxiety. “I just…I don’t think he feels the same.”

George scoffed. “Look, Fred is a bit thick when it comes to girls. He doesn’t like talking about his feelings, even to me. But when he talks about you, I can see the way he lights up. He gets this stupid smile on his face…It’s actually quite gross, you know.”

He laughed, which made you laugh, too. Your head fell onto his shoulder, feeling solace in your best friend’s touch. The whole Weasley family was very affectionate, while you had grown up in a stiffer household, your grandmother was too busy comparing you and Neville to your parents to verbally praise you, let alone spare a hug when it was needed.

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better? Because false hope isn’t gonna be helpful in the long run,” you said.

George met your eye, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. “Pinky promise, I’m not,” he said, holding out his hand.

You interlocked your pinky finger with his, relieved and hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this little crush could go somewhere.

“Just…Give him time to realize it. I can try to knock some sense into him, if you want.”

You snort. “I can’t believe you’re his voice of reason. No wonder you two get into so much trouble.”

George poked your ribs, a mock-offended gasp slipping from his mouth. “Rude! I got into Ravenclaw, I clearly must have some reasoning skills, otherwise we need to call up the Sorting Hat and tell it that it fucked up.”

You laugh, and finish the rest of the joint between you two before standing, ready to sneak back to the dorms. The Common Room door opened with the answer to a simple riddle, and the usually bustling space was empty and silent, a perk of the late night adventure.

“So, what am I supposed to do now?” you asked.

“Instead of not-so-secretly pining for him, why don’t you actually flirt?” George replied.

The idea of flirting with Fred felt unnatural, but you realized that the way you two acted already could be easily translated into flirtatious behavior; the teasing, the physical affection. It wouldn’t be weird for you to let your touch linger, or crack a joke about finding him attractive. Small steps wouldn’t immediately alert him to a change in your behavior, but might help him realize there was a spark forming. As usual, George had brilliant plans.

Before heading to your dorm, you turned back to give him a hug. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“Any time,” he replied, pressing a quick to your forehead before tiptoeing back to his own room.

In your bed, you thought over the conversation, feeling a whirlwind of emotions: First, embarrassment that you had been read so easily; but more importantly, hope and excitement at the idea that Fred could like you, want you the same way. What had once felt like an impossible fantasy now seemed much closer.

The school year was coming to a close, and you had already planned to spend part of your summer break at the Weasley’s home, which would give you more of an opportunity to spend time with Fred, and to explore what could become of your relationship.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, too giddy to relax, but you eventually settled and dreamt of freckled shoulders, hands in your hair, and hushed laughter.

#it's nice to have a friend #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley fic #fred weasley series #ophelia's fics #harry potter #hp

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pandorasprongs · 2 months

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CHAPTER SIX | it all makes sense when i'm with you.

'it's nice to have a friend' masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 6.0k

SUMMARY: jamie and reader are finally happy, but are now faced with entering a new era of their relationship.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: yet another long chapter, but this is the last one before the epilogue and i really wanted to include a lot of scenes! i want to thank you all again for reading this! it's been a long time coming (longer than expected), but i hope you'll all enjoy it anyway! thanks again for reading and if you're curious, the title is from the song "1,2" by mxmtoon :)

"They were fucking psychos for making us tie it around our dicks. I mean, I already knew Total Football, so I don't get why they had to make me do it, too."

"Sportsmanship, Jamie. You have to be one with the team." You joke, but even through the phone, you can tell he's not amused.

"Anyway, after I finally told them they were doing it wrong, we got the first goal and now we’re winning matches. It's been doing wonders for my self-image."

It was your turn now to roll your eyes. You didn't respond, which resulted in Jamie asking, "Are you still listening?"

"Yes! You're just lucky no one's come in for office hours right now and you can be the one to talk my ear off." You take off your legs from your table and stand up to stretch. You hadn't realized how long you'd been sitting there, listening to Jamie update you on his life, but it was enough that it led to a loud crack in your neck.

"Fine, I'll see you later, yeah?" He asks and you give a short hum as your answer. "Alright. Bye, love."

Had it been the first time he'd called you that at the end of a phone call, you would've fallen back into your chair. But after your weekend meet-ups had been mostly reduced to weekly phone calls due to the sudden increase in practices for Jamie, you had gotten used to his casual usage of the word.

But that didn't mean you didn't still get the butterflies when he'd call you that. Yet again, you were falling for your best friend. Only this time, you couldn't pass it off as some stupid childish crush that would pass in time. But at least, you were old enough to understand your feelings better.

Now, you were waiting for him to show up at your flat tonight. You have subconsciously even pulled out the ingredients for lasagna, one of his favorite dishes of yours. Christ, what was happening to you?

As you pull out the plates from the cupboard and get them ready at the dining table, a knock on your door pulls your attention away. Before you can even react, it opens to reveal Liv and Freddie, the former now sermoning you about the importance of locking your doors.

"Who's your guest?" Freddie asks, changing the course of Liv's train of thought. Your best friend's eyes widen as she realizes and whispers, "Is Jamie here?"

"Jamie Tartt?!" Freddie exclaims in the loudest voice you've ever heard from him. You try and shush him before you realize he summoned the footballer.

"Yeah, who's asking?" You hear him enter from the hallway, carrying his duffel bag with him. Only you can tell he's surprised by the additional company, but any other person would have taken his smile as an overly confident one. "How're you doing, Liv? And this is the soon-to-be mister, I suppose?"

"Freddie, and yes, that's me." He reaches to shake Jamie's hand, and the footballer takes it politely. "We should leave them to it, right 'hon?" Freddie grabs hold of Liv's hand, who does not share her fiancée's eagerness to leave — mainly to hear all about what's going on with the two of you, — but obliges anyway.

"Wait," Jamie stops them from leaving and pulls out something from the pocket in his duffle bag. "Since you're here, I'll hand them in person. Three tickets to the England match in a few days. They give some out to each player, and I was planning to give it to (Y/N) and I'm sure she would've given it to you two."

He's right, but you still faked offense for thinking she had no one else to give it, too.

"No, we couldn't," Liv replied, "you should give these to your family." You knew she was just being humble, that she desperately wanted those tickets, but she'd never automatically accept them.

"Nah, don't worry about that. They're all back in Manchester, so too far away to go the match anyway. Plus, it's a return for leaving that one," he nods towards you, "in the middle of Nelson Road. Without that, I'd never have gotten her back, so thank you." You smile at Jamie as he says that, who only winks at you.

"Alright, thank you so much, Jamie Tartt." Freddie takes the two tickets, before saying goodbye to the footballer.

"You owe me an explanation," are your parting words to your best friend, after having spent this whole time wondering how she and Jamie had met before. All she does is smirk at you before taking her fiancée's hand and leaving the flat with him.

"Here's yours," Jamie hands you your ticket, before rushing to grab something from his bag. "I have one more thing to show you, hold on." You see a flash of white as he pulls the item out and rushes to your bathroom.

You could only laugh. You haven't seen him this excited to show you something since he first showed you his team kit after he joined Man City, the memory of which gives you a hint as to what he wants to show off now. You take a seat on the stool next to the kitchen counter, before you hear his steps returning, placing your toes behind the metal footrest.

"Look out now... for the best striker on the England National Team, Jamie Tartt!" He introduced himself, before having a running start and jumping right in front of you and posing.

You smile brightly, barely being able to contain your joy at seeing Jamie so clearly proud to show off one of his best accomplishments. You knew how hard Jamie had been working to get to this point, from the moment you met him as children all those years ago. This is the Jamie you know and love, so proud and self-assured, who knew what he wanted and went for it.

"It looks perfect on you, Jamie." You say genuinely, as Jamie walks closer to you.

"Yeah? It's soft too, feel it," he offers his arm, though he's still far enough that you have to stand. You forget how you placed your feet and end up falling forward. Jamie's there to catch you and once again, you find your face too close to his own.

"Careful," he whispers, keeping his arms wrapped around you and his eyes on yours. Jamie helps you up and keeps his hands on your shoulders as you move to create space between you too.

"You're right," you try and break the tension. "The kit's real soft. So..." you turn around to find the dinner you've made still not plated. "Can you still make your own plate of food or are you too high-status to do it yourself now?"

"Ah, I don't want to dirty up the kit this early," he tries to joke, but you slap his arm playfully before walking over to the dining table.

—

"Oh my god, oh my god, we're here." Liv s.queals beside you.

"It's real. Oh, somebody pinch me. What if I offer Jamie to be my Best Man? My brother wouldn't mind, right?" Freddie added, dawned completely in merchandise.

"Christ, there's two of you now." You joke, but Liv plants a kiss on your cheek and interlock your arms as you walk to your seats.

Before you can even get settled, a text message from Jamie grabs your attention. Could you come here followed by, please.

You're confused by the vague message but try to follow it anyway. You weren't sure where 'here' was, but you excused yourself from Liv and Freddie and tried to head to where you assumed the locker rooms were.

It was risky, considering you were wearing a Tartt shirt and didn't look like anyone of importance, but it seemed like there wasn't much security on the way there. You turn the corner where you find Jamie leaning against the wall, but your footsteps cause him to jolt up. He instantly softens when he realizes who it is, and starts to come towards you.

He envelops you in a hug and the first thing he says to you is, "I might fuck this. I mean, they didn't put me on starting for a reason, right?"

"Jamie..." you whisper, returning the hug and then pulling away to try and look him in the eye, but he keeps his eyes low. " What happened to the guy who was confidently showing off his kit to me a few days ago? If they have any sense in them, they are going to sub you in, and you are going to do great."

"You always say that," he points out and you shake your head.

"And I have, like, a 99 percent success rate with it." You take hold of his face to try and get him to focus on you. "They wouldn't have put you on the team if they didn't think you were a capable and amazing player. Of course, I've known that since we were kids, but the entire world is realizing it now. Jamie Tartt, you are one in a million. You've believed that all your life, so why stop now?" Jamie finally looks you in the eye and you try to give him a comforting smile.

The past months you've spent with Jamie have taken out a lot of the surprise factor in the things he does. But before you knew it, Jamie's lips were on yours and now, you could name at least one thing he can do to keep you on your toes.

Almost as quickly, Jamie pulls back, "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't—" but you interrupt him with a kiss of your own. You're not really sure how long you stay like that, but the moment Jamie returned the kiss, you knew time didn't matter. Then, of course, logic came back into your system and you had to pull away.

You're a bit out of breath, but you rest your temple against his, "You got this, Jamie." He pulls away before he gives you another hug.

His coach comes out of the locker room to call him back inside, and he turns to leave you but comes back to give you one last kiss on the cheek. "Bye, love." Love.

It takes everything in you to hold back from spilling everything to Liv as you get back to your seat and wait for the game to start.

—

"AFC Richmond's Jamie Tartt, winning his first cap for England, an unforgettable moment and well earned," the commentator announces at some point during the game, and Liv remarks that this is the loudest she's ever seen you cheer.

"Let's go, Jamie!" You shout and with the sea of England supporters at the venue, you're aware he can't hear you, but you hope it reaches him anyway.

And of course, you were right. He did amazing, plus you had only noticed now that he chose 24 as his number, which was his teammate's. He had told you about how Sam didn't get picked for the Nigerian team and how crushed he was about it, so seeing Jamie do such a touching gesture was only another reminder of how amazing — your friend? Boyfriend, if that could even be used? Childhood best friend? Ah, fuck it… — Jamie was.

You didn't get to see the footballer after the match, but he managed to send you a goofy selfie along with a 'thank you' message, indicating that he was back to normal, maybe even a bit more confident now. You send one back and close your phone as you return to your conversation with Liv. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you could still feel his lips lingering on yours.

—

"That's this class of students done," you said to yourself, before switching over to your laptop where Liv's guest list was open. The wedding was still in a couple of months, but even then, you were starting to feel the strain of being Maid of Honor.

It had been a few weeks since you even had a proper conversation with Jamie, let alone talk about what happened before the England match. You weren't really sure what you expected or wanted to happen. You were hoping Jamie would take the lead like he usually did, but even he was too busy to talk.

So recently, you've been diving straight into your work, hoping that by the time you were done, Jamie would finally send that message that he wanted to talk. But instead, the only person you've been having any non-academic conversation with was Liv.

You see a message from her pop up on your laptop, saying Have you seen this? Jamie's acting a bit weird.

You weren't sure what your best friend's standards were for "weird," but as you play the interview clip, you find yourself agreeing with her.

"I apologize to everyone, especially the kids." You watch him lean into the mic to say, and you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, but your expression turns into worry.

You reach for your phone to message him, Hey Jamie, how are you? Do you wanna come over for movie night soon?

It was ten minutes later when you finally got a reply. Doing good. Can't see you right now though, busy with training. Sorry.

Now you were really getting anxious. You knew Jamie wouldn't be so mean as to ghost you for the kiss, but you couldn't help your brain drifting to that conclusion. No, Jamie wouldn't do that. It must be something else.

You look up the schedule of matches for Richmond for the next few weeks and sure enough, their next match is against Manchester City. You grew up in Manchester and knew just how strongly Man City supporters feel for their team, and how they feel about the ones who leave, too. It must be eating Jamie up going back there, especially now when you remember one of the last times they played against them.

Jamie had recounted to you in the past how his dad barged into the Richmond locker room after they'd lost the match, and how it took everything in him not to retaliate, but even then, he ended up punching him in the face. You held his hand and as if you signaled a green light, Jamie wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your chest. You don’t really know how long you two stayed that way, but you ended up waking up to the sound of three missed calls from Roy to Jamie at 4 am.

And so, you decide to spend your break next week back in Manchester. You open your phone to message your parents and the speed of your mom's reply displayed their excitement. Can't wait, sweetie! See you soon, Mom and Dad love you.

—

"Oh my god!" Your mom exclaims as she opens the door and envelopes you in a hug quickly. You arrived around lunchtime, the day before the match, hoping to have time to meet up with Jamie and talk before it, though you haven't even been able to tell him you were in Manchester, too. "Dad went out to buy ingredients for a cake ‘cause we didn't expect you to get here so early."

You pull away from here and shake your head, "You guys didn't have to do that, Mom." You drag your suitcase across the threshold and slam down on the couch as soon as you reach it.

"Well, we haven't seen you in months and you haven't been here in Manchester in years! We were planning to have a whole thing for your return." Your mom explains as walks into the kitchen to make you tea, like she always did when she came to visit. At least this time, she wasn't criticizing you for the lack of a tea selection in your flat.

"Why have you decided to visit? You usually invite us to go to London during your breaks." She asks, walking back in with a tray of cups and a teapot.

It would be too hard for you to explain that the major reason (or person) that stopped you from coming back all these years was now the exact reason why you chose to travel all the way to Manchester, so instead you settle with, "Just didn't want you guys to take the long trip this time."

By the time your dad gets back with his bags of groceries, you have already changed into a tank top and pajama pants while your mom already made a late lunch for you three. You finally explain to the two of them how you got back in touch with Jamie after all this time, carefully omitting the reasons for your falling out, and are now worried about him playing against Man City.

"I mean, I'm sure it's hard for a lot of the players to play against their old team, but Jamie having to play a match against the team he spent his whole life aspiring to be a part of? I'm scared he's too shaken up, and he's not telling me anything either." You let out an exasperated sigh, and look down at your hands. "I'm really worried."

Your mom reaches out to take one of your hands. "Hon, you've never not been worried about Jamie. Ever since you two were kids."

You keep a solemn expression on your face, to which your dad adds on, as he takes your other hand. "Just do what you always did. Be there for him, and make sure he knows it. He needs your support more than anything, especially now that you're back in his life."

You let out a sigh, trying to absorb what they've just said to you, but you were so tired from the travel that you move to the couch and just try to relax. You end up drifting off into the night till you wake up to a message from an unknown number.

(Y/N)? I hope this is your number, it's Keeley Jones. We met before at the gala? Anyway, I hope you get this because we're following Jamie somewhere. He's been acting weird and I wanted to ask if you knew any special place he'd go to when he's stressed or going through something.

You don't have time to properly understand what she's asking and just go with your first instinct: Georgie. You shout up the stairs to your parents that you're heading out and grab a sweatshirt from your bag as you run to their house. It almost feels like deja vu, considering they've barely changed the exterior of the place.

You knock on the door and are received by Simon, whose surprise at seeing you back in Manchester doesn't faze you. You reciprocate his welcoming hug before asking, "Is Georgie home?"

"Yeah, she's just upstairs," he moves aside to make way for you to get inside the house, and you nod to him before running up to the second floor.

"Georgie?" You call out, and the call of your own name signals her presence. You walk into the main bedroom, one you remember vividly from when Jamie would rope you into taking some money from Simon's wallet — you always apologized on his behalf — when you were teenagers.

"Oh my goodness, I completely forgot you were coming home today! My mind's been all over the place. Welcome back, 'hon," she envelops you in a hug, which you're grateful for, but as you break apart, she notices your look of urgency. "What's got you here in such a rush?"

"It's about Jamie," you get straight to the point. "I'm worried about him and it's just that—" you're interrupted by Simon calling out to her.

She excuses herself, but you follow after her as she asks, "What was that, love? Someone at the door?"

You turn to go down the stairs when you spot Jamie waiting at the bottom. Georgie runs to hug her son and while your heart warms at the sight of this reunion, the trance is broken when Jamie spots you.

"When did you get here?" His accent's a lot thicker back in his hometown, you notice.

"Just before you did," you reply, but seeing as he returns his attention back to his mom, you instead walk down the stairs and past them to join Keeley and Roy whom you awkwardly greet.

"Well, we've got quite a number of visitors today. Who wants some sweet treats?" He offers, and you decide it's best to follow him.

You should've known that Jamie's "special place" would be his childhood home, and maybe it was the nerves that stopped you from thinking clearly. Now, you were just glad he was with Georgie now, someone who always knew how to cheer him up.

"Help me carry them out, yeah?" Simon asks, and you happily oblige, taking one of the trays into your hands. "Do you think Roy likes sweets?"

You shrug, genuinely unsure of the man’s food preferences, but Simon seems undeterred. You head to the living room and glance at the Jamie photo shrine, which seems to have grown twice its size after all these years.

You sit down awkwardly next to Keeley who once again greets you warmly, and only allow yourself to glance at Jamie once. It's like he's gone back to being a kid again, resting in his mom's arms as he tells her everything that's bothering him.

After a while, Jamie looks like he's ready to open up, so Georgie tells Simon to tour Keeley and Roy around the house. He agrees, and calls out your name, "You should come with us, too. You probably know some parts of this house better than I do, mainly Jamie's room."

You know he meant that innocently, but you can't help but feel your cheeks heat up at the mention of it. You nod and get up quickly, but not before looking back at Jamie and giving him a small smile. He returns it, and a part of you eases at the sight of it. He's going to be fine.

The four of you start in the kitchen and Keeley interlocks your arm as you lean in, "Did you get my message?"

You nod, "That's why I ran here as soon as I could. Georgie's got it, don't worry." You watch her instantly relax at your words, and you're touched by how much she cares for Jamie, even after he'd been a less-than-perfect boyfriend to her in the past.

Simon continues the tour and every once in a while, Keeley would find you in the photos and squeal about how cute the two of you were in them. She'd left Roy with Simon to learn all about you, along with how it was growing up with Jamie.

You reach the second floor and as Simon walks over to the room where you'd spent at least a fraction of your childhood, you suddenly remember how it's decorated. You try to hold in your reaction as Simon starts, "Here is the main attraction. Jamie's room."

It's just like how you remember it, with all the trinkets you two played with, the pictures of wins, and the trophies he got for them. You even spot a trophy you made for him after his team got second place once.

Your attention is pulled away by Roy's reaction to his poster, "Fucking hell." You chuckle as Simon explains just how devoted Jamie was to it.

"Oh, meat pies are done. Excuse me," he closes the door, revealing your personal favorite poster: Keeley's.

"Fucking hell," she imitates her companion, and you laugh even louder. She turns to you, "Have these two always been there?"

"Yup," you confirm, still chuckling.

"So whenever you two had sleepovers," something you mentioned to her during the door, "those two pictures of us were just hovering about you like that? How'd you manage?"

"Ah well, I got desensitized after a bit, really. Only after I realized Jamie would never take them down, even when I stayed with them for weeks on end. Just closed my eyes and faced the wall."

You decide to show them your own house, pushing back the curtain and pointing at your window. "Look, that's my bedroom. Jamie used to throw pebbles or beer caps to get my attention."

After a few moments of looking around the room, you notice Roy and Keeley sitting down on Jamie's bed, seemingly wanting to talk about something. You decide to excuse yourself and head to the kitchen to help out Simon, and also hopefully get the first taste of the meat pies.

You catch up with Jamie's step-dad as he checks on his pastries. Most of the times you've hung out with Simon were filled with him simply talking about his baking methods and new recipes he was trying out. But after a small lull, Simon's eyes lit up, and went out to grab something to show you.

"I sent a picture of this to Jamie back when I found it. Not sure if he showed it to you, but it is quite cute, don't you think?" He hands you a small photo of you and Jamie in the kitchen as teenagers. The way Jamie looked at you in it, you wondered how you'd feel now if he did it again. Of course, you’ve never been too careful with your surroundings, considering how you’ve never noticed the way Jamie’s eyes lit up every time he even just looked at you.

"Yeah, it's quite nice." You hear footsteps coming your way and hear a voice call out your name. You sit up when Jamie enters. "Hey, could we talk?"

Suddenly, all your nerves come back tenfold. You walk over to him and you head back to the living room, where Georgie is preparing to leave to give you two some space.

The first thing Jamie says as you two sit down is, "I'm sorry." Before you could even respond, he continues, "I didn't mean to ghost you and everything, I just... I was stressed getting ready for this match and going back here to Manchester and I didn't want to dump all of it on you. I'm really sorry."

"Jamie, you don't have anything to apologize for. You didn't do anything wrong and yeah, I missed you, but you needed space and I was okay with giving you that.” The footballer nods as if he’s digesting what you’ve just said. You take his hand into yours and decide to take your father’s advice, as you start, “If it's any consolation to the nerves you’re feeling, I hope you know that I'll always be here. The people that do love you will always be there to support you, including me." He smiles, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach again.

"I missed you, too, by the way. Especially with the last time we saw each other at the match," he whispers and suddenly you can feel yourself blushing again.

"Yeah, we should talk about it," you offer, but you knew that there really wasn't much to say about it all. Staying in limbo between friends and something more wasn't always a bad thing, especially when it was with Jamie. The footballer already seemed to know what he wanted to ask you, but before he could even start, the house phone rang.

Simon comes into the living room, and informs you, "It's your mum, she's asking when you're heading back to the house?"

"In a bit," you tell him and he nods. You turn back to Jamie who's trying to hold back his disappointment at being interrupted. You start, "Maybe you guys should start heading back, too. It's getting late."

He nods, "Right." Jamie gets up from his seat and pulls you up in the process, before realizing something. "Do you want to come to the match tomorrow? I think I'll need the extra support. Plus, you were always my good luck charm before."

"Sure. You're lucky I brought my AFC Richmond shirt with me, too. I was just going to wear it around the neighborhood honestly."

"You should. Make sure everyone knows who your favorite Premier League player is." Jamie teases.

"Yup, Dani Rojas." You retort and he pretends to walk away offended, but you pull Jamie in and kiss his cheek as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"Come on, love, I'll bring you back to your house before we go. Like old times," Jamie offers and you happily oblige. You say goodbye to Georgie and Simon and Jamie leads you out the door and to your house.

It takes a few minutes before you can convince your parents to let go of Jamie this time, but you finally manage and promise to see him before the match tomorrow. He surprises you with a kiss goodbye before he jogs back to his house to get Roy and Keeley, looking back at you once more.

—

If you excuse your heart nearly stopping when Jamie got tackled, that may have been one of the best matches you've ever had the pleasure to watch in person. You had no idea what Ted said to Jamie that caused the sudden change in him, but the spark in the player suddenly came back. Getting back onto the pitch, hyping up the crowd's heckling — which you couldn't lie, turned you on a bit, — and even managing to make the goal with an injury? Only Jamie fucking Tartt could manage that.

Considering you had only planned to stay for the game and now had to make it all the way to London, it was a miracle that Keeley instead invited you to join them on the bus to head back. You rushed home to collect your things and say goodbye to your parents — who were already planning to visit you the week after, — and headed to the hotel as the team was loading up onto the bus.

Keeley was there waiting for you and planned to introduce you to the team, but considering a good number of them recognized you from the gala and the other members were too busy celebrating, you instead quietly made your way to the back of the bus where Jamie was resting, while she left to go ride the car with Rebecca.

Considering he had to stretch out the leg over a number of chairs, the coaches instead opted to sit in the middle of the bus, right in the action, as Ted called it.

While everyone celebrated, Jamie still seemed to be wrapping his head around it. He notices you in front of him and smiles widely. "Mind if I join you?" He moves a bit over to make some space for you next to him. "How're you feeling?"

He moves to wrap his arm around your waist and pulls you closer, "Good, better since I get to celebrate beating City." He pumps his fist in the air and you don't understand why you still find it endearing. He scans your body before announcing, "I like your shirt." He plants a kiss on your shoulder before looking back up at you.

"Thanks, Jamie. And what did I tell you? You were great! I'll lose my voice tomorrow from how loud I was cheering you on. Do you know how much energy it takes to be louder than all the booing?" You mention, and all Jamie could do was chuckle. “But it was worth it. So you knew there was at least one person in the crowd cheering you on for the entire match.”

"Thank you," His face falls slightly, as if realizing something, but picks up before he confesses, "I think I might messaged my dad." You turn to look at him properly, but there's no sign of fear in him; only relief. "I, uh, I don't think he was there today, but Ted told me I could at least try to forgive him. Not for his sake, but mine. I don't know, it made sense at the time, but—"

It's your turn now to interrupt him with a kiss. You're lucky no one has decided to look at the back of the bus this whole time. You hold his face as you do so and after a bit of shock, he reciprocates it. After, you wrap your arms around him. "I'm proud of you, Jamie. And I'll be here if you need any help with the message or just want some support when you do it, okay?"

Jamie has a soft expression on his face and smiles at you once again. He laughs at himself before remembering something the two of you left hanging last night, "So, now that all that is out of the way, don't you think we should talk about... this?" He gestures at the position the two of you are in, with your arms wrapped around his torso and his arm draped on your shoulders.

"What about it?" You try and act coy, but you can barely keep a straight face. "We're just friends who reunited after so many years. It's perfectly normal."

He laughs before replying, "It's just," Jamie hesitates a bit, before looking you straight in the eyes and adding, "I don't think friends kiss as often as we do, love."

"That is true," You pretend to think before asking, "Well, what do you want me to be then?"

"My girlfriend, maybe. Since best friend doesn't sound right anymore."

"No, not really. Plus, Liv will definitely fight you for it and that is a match you are not going to win." you exaggerate your headshake and laugh, before leaning into him. "But girlfriend sounds good. Though, I do have standards for my boyfriend."

"Oh, yeah?" Jamie tilts his head and smirks, and you almost fold then and there.

"Yup," you confirm and turn away to list them. "He should be tall, handsome, funny, overly confident but rightfully so, a great football player, knows nearly everything about me including my favorite singer, — "Stevie Nicks, duh," he interjects, — loves my cooking, and me, obviously." You stop before looking back at him and faking an epiphany, "Oh, and his name should be Jamie Tartt."

He takes a minute to think, before nodding, "Pretty sure I fit all those requirements, love." He laughs as he turns to you.

"Yeah? Well, alright then." You move to kiss him once more as Jamie pulls you closer by your waist.

He pulls away, but keeping you in that position before whispering, "I love you, so much."

"I love you, too." You whisper back.

But as you rest your head on his shoulder, some of his teammates decided to move the celebration towards the back of the bus. "Mind if we sit here?" Sam asks politely, though a little louder than he meant. You nod as some of the players start taking the seats around the two of you.

You can tell on their faces they knew something happened between you two, but neither mentioned it and instead continued their celebration with their striker.

You turn back to Jamie, who gives you a sweet, goofy grin when he notices your eyes on him, and all you can do is be grateful for this moment.

At age 7, you believed your best friend Jamie would be in your life forever. At age 19, you believed your best friend Jamie Tartt was gone.

But now, nearly two decades since that little Mancunian boy kicked that ball over the fence, you realize that you had gotten in right at seventeen. Your best friend Jamie Tartt would be the only boy, man, you'd ever truly loved. And you wouldn't want it any other way.

At age 7, Jamie Tartt thought you were his best friend. At age 19, he thought you were his biggest weakness.

But at age 26, he realized that only one thing has remained the same all these years: he is in love with you. That is the ultimate truth. And that's all he needed. You're all he needed.

A/N: yay! we only have the epilogue left, but i'm excited! honestly, i couldn't bring myself to make it anymore angsty, especially because they've already been through a lot. hope you all enjoyed this and thank you again for reading!

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamietarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @taytaylala12 @loveforaugust @crownofdecitreadingrespectfully @dickgraysonspersonalwhore @jess4rush @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #it's nice to have a friend series

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blablaganov · 3 months

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Non is the one behind the mask and Jin is our living for now proof of that

So our homeboy just found out that no, Non didn’t ride off into the sunset with teacher Keng, but based on what we learned in episode 10 was handed over to Uncle Joe and vanished. And Jin’s initial reaction to this reveal isn’t horror at the thought that Non might already be dead, but anger at how the story of Non’s supposed escape with a teacher has affected his family?? Which is sweet, to care about them, but you just learned that your friend has really disappeared, so maybe focus on that first? But at least this reaction is consistent with what we’ve seen from him so far: Jin's response is emotional and explosive. It checks.

And then Tee drops the bomb - Non is dead. This should have been a huge shock for Jin, who was the only one to still hold on to the belief that Non was still out there, alive. Reactions of Tan and Phee is understandable; they have had years to accept that Non is most likely no longer alive, but Jin BELIEVED. So, I fully expected him to lash out, to start yelling at Tee, to start a fight. And what Jin gives me? Nothing.

Except for a murderous look, he does not react at all to the news about the death of someone he claims to care about and feel guilty towards. The character who shown to be impulsive, to react without thinking, whose emotions can be explosive DOESN’T SHOW US ANY REACTION. Which, of cource, is a reaction on itself, so my question is: Jin, sweetie, do you maybe have something to share with class?

Speaking of murderous looks. We’ve already seen them twice:

in the first episode, when Phee puts the tape on

And everyone from the original group looks various degrees of uncomfortable, especially after asked about Non, but not Jin. He is too busy trying to murder everyone with the glare until the mention of the camera snaps him out of it.

in the second episode, when the gang discusses what to do next

And again, while everyone’s anxiety is almost palpable, Jin is just standing there, looking disgusted by everyone but not in the slightest bothered by the fact that someone got Por impaled?? Someone left marks on his arms! The conversation isn’t merely about the possibility of Non’s ghost; it’s about the real, tangible danger lurking in the woods. And yet, Jin doesn’t look scared or concerned in any way, too busy trying to once again commit murder with the glare.

Knife

The marks on Por’s arms are the main reason I’m convinced that Non is the one hiding behind the mask. It's possible that Tan somehow slipped out of the living room and lured Por into the trap, but what about the marks? We’ve seen several times that Tan is one to outsource his murder, not too eager to harm with his own hands. Even after Tee’s confession about Non’s death, Tan doesn’t attempt to snatch the gun and kill Tee himself. So why get personal with Por? To convince everyone that it wasn’t an accident? But cuts don’t look ghosty; if anything, it’s a proof that a real, leaving person is behind it. And who has all the reasons to get personal with Por? NON And it with the same knife he used three years ago – a knife that someone present at the scene after Non got dragged away had to pick up and keep until now.

I am also mildly convinced that the knife attack is the main reason why Jin lied to the police in the first place. If he had admitted that Non was with them that day, everyone else would have probably said, 'Oh yes, he was with us, and he attacked us with the knife. He was screaming about killing us all, poor Top even got a scar. Here are the security camera recordings as proof.' We've already established that Jin is not the best decision-maker, so I can see how, from his perspective, lying to the police seemed like a better option.

And isn’t it interesting how Jin was the one who first noticed the cuts and also the one who took the knife in his hand to compare it with the cuts?

Jin, dear, no one said anything about someone hiding in the house...

Uncle Dang

I'm unsure which one of the brothers is responsible for this death, but it is interesting how closely it mirrors one of the scenes in episode 7.

In the past, Por sends Non to get food on Uncle Dang's bike, while he himself starts shooting. In the present, Uncle Dang dies delivering food for the boys on the same bike, simultaneously extinguishing their last chance of escape.

In the past, everyone was so eager to exclude Non and shoot the movie he wrote without him. In the present, they are willing to do anything just to get out of this place, and Por, bleeding out on the couch, needs it more than anyone. Sorry, but it's too late; this time around, you'll have to play your part the way Non wants you to.

Episode 7 is also where this dialogue between Jin and Por happens.

I know that logically Phee and Tan were the ones who slipped in the cassette, but were they also the ones who created it? Or did they just find it when they came to the house for the first time to scout it out? Because the last scene with Jin running out of the house was shot after Non's disappearance. It wasn't merely an old version; Someone intentionally added Non's scene post-credits. And who was the one doing all the cutting? Right.

Hallucinations

Jin’s hallucinations were what sold me on the "Non is alive" theory. Everyone who thinks Non is already dead also sees some version of Non/masked murderer. Not Jin, of course; he convinced Non to be alive and well, somewhere far away with teacher Keng. Oh wait… How is it possible that he believes something terrible happened to teacher Keng, but not to Non? That the video he took is the cause of teacher Keng’s death, but not Non’s? Haven’t they supposedly run off together? Unless Jin knows that Non is alive. Unless Non told Jin that Mr. Keng was killed by the mafia.

It also would explain Jin’s reaction after Phee confession.

The person you have a lot of complicated feelings about

so many that you decide the best time to bring up your past situationship is while you both are trapped in a creepy temple. One also doesn’t try to bite off the dick of someone they are indifferent towards

just confessed to being Non's ex-boyfriend and getting close to you to get information about him, and your first reaction is not a "Was Everything Between Us a Lie?" rage but a sad puppy "So You Never Saw Us As Friends?" Once again, Jin, sweetie, we need to talk about your priorities; also about the fact that you not once looked surprised about the whole thing.

Fun fact: One of Jin's listed hobbies is camping, so hypothetically he should know his way around the woods, yet he doesn’t even attempt to help Phee while they are looking for the way out of the forest. The only thing he does is complain and cling to Phee in a very damsel-in-distress fashion. And still manages to be the one who points in the right direction in the end. I'm not even sure if Jin’s shoulder dislocation is genuine because if horror movies have taught me anything, it's to never trust a character who injures themselves while escaping a murderer, especially when they then very conveniently trip over the air at just the right moment for another character to drop their weapon.

To sum it up:

Did he now?

#begging on my knees for DFF to stick with a horror ending #all i want is for Jin to find out he wasn't the one who published the video #for him to look around in horror #and have a nice little What Have I Done moment #dead friend forever #dff the series #DFF

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shima-draws · 5 months

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So my roommate is also into One Piece. I’m not sure if he’s watched any of the anime, I know for sure he’s watched the live action, but earlier tonight he came upstairs and watched a few episodes with me while waiting for a food delivery, and then he got hooked, and then he sat and watched MORE episodes with me without really knowing what was going on. But it was still wildly entertaining to him, esp since I’m right in the middle of one of the (arguably) best arcs rn, and now he wants to finish the arc with me LOL. NOBODY is immune to One Piece propaganda. Or Bon-chan 🥰

#Shima speaks #IT WAS JUST REALLY FUNNY #Like he’s been spoiled to a lot of stuff and has general knowledge of some things #So he knows (as well as I) about what’s going to happen to Ace #But yeah I’m in the middle of Impel Down and it’s absolute fucking CHAOS rn. Insane.#He was like. How much more are you going to watch tonight.#And I was like well I usually go until right before bedtime when I’m binging it #So he was like let me grab my blanky :) LOL #We started chanting PRISON RIOT!! PRISON RIOT!! PRISON RIOT!!!!!#Idk it’s just nice. I usually don’t get this kind of reaction to stuff I watch #My parents don’t like anime and my sister. Well she likes it but only specific series #So I couldn’t rope her into OP even if I tried lol #So having someone be like ooooh what are you watching it looks good I want to join!#IT FEELS NICE. OKAY. I don’t get that ever!!!#I don’t have the kind of family who would be willing to watch anime with me #And tbh I get jealous when my friends tell me they watch anime with their parents #I doubt my parents would watch anime if I were on my deathbed and asked them to. LMAO #Not faulting then it’s not their cup of tea which is fine. It just makes me sad #*them #Bc that’s just. Such a HUGE part of my life and who I am. And they don’t know anything about that side of me #Or about the things I’m into #Sorry didn’t mean to get emo in my tags. Anyway.#I was gonna watch more OP during my lunch break tomorrow BUT since my roommate also wants to watch more. I will wait :)#Never have to do that usually! Huh!! How fun!!!#One Piece

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vegaseatsass · 3 months

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DFF ep10 spoilers/ep11 trailer spoilers

I liked this episode because I'm absolutely feral for New, and for Tee's tears, and for Fluke my beloved unintentional comic relief, but mooooostly I just cannot wait for ep11. That preview completely unhinged me. Oh my god oh my god so many of my dreams are coming true. It turns out as much as I love New and as much as I appreciate White (New you have to seduce him to your side if you don't want him to ruin everything!!!), Non is still my heart and a few split seconds of promised footage is enough to make crawling from this moment to next Saturday acutely painful.

#PERTHNON AND TEENON MY BODY IS SO READY IT'S ALMOST TOO READY #i am not gonna comment on pheejin because i can't say anything nice right now #i found their stuff really disappointing on multiple levels!#but it's fine that's why we have new and tee to make me feel things #and nonnnnnnnnnnnnn #dff #dead friend forever #dff spoilers #dff the series spoilers #dear diary

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sluttywoozi · 1 year

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V. State Of Grace

Masterlist

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~3.3k

Warnings: male masturbation, alcohol mention, marriage kink (mainly outside of the bedroom), oral f. rec.

Jeonghan tests his limbs, finding them all awake and only slightly sore as he starts to wiggle out from beneath you. He’s not sure how long it’s been, the alarm clock on his side of the bed unplugged, but he does know it’s been at least ten minutes since you fell asleep. He’d waited to see if the situation would resolve itself but, unfortunately, he’s still fucking hard.

He’s not upset with himself, because who wouldn’t get turned on after two hours of making out with you, but it is rather annoying. Jeonghan really just wants to go to sleep but now he has to sneak off to the bathroom and jerk off with shitty hotel lotion while desperately hoping he doesn’t wake you up. At least he gets to think about you guilt free.

This will be the third time he’s jerked off with you on his mind. The first happened after you’d gotten to know each other but before you got close. There was a group beach day and once he saw what your clothes were hiding, he knew he was in trouble. He didn’t feel too bad about that one, just a little regret about getting off to the thought of someone he’d like to call a friend.

The second was tinged with shame, frantic and fast and messy, and he’d had to return to you and hope that you had no idea what he was doing. It was at one of your Best Friends Sleepovers and, embarrassingly enough, he got hard because you let him rest his head on your thighs. In his defense, you were wearing shorts and you’d showered earlier so you were all soft and you smelled so good and your thighs were so plush under his cheek. He couldn’t help the way his thoughts strayed to how they would feel around his head instead. Pressing up against his cheeks and ears, holding him against you, muting his hearing so all his other senses are focused only on you.

He can feel his dick throb in his boxers as he starts to picture it again, his hand sliding down his stomach and slipping underneath the elastic band to loosely wrap around his cock. He’s hoping that soon he won’t have to imagine, though he’ll wait as long as you need, especially after how long he’s kept you waiting for him.

Jeonghan lets out a relieved sigh when he emerges from the bathroom to find you sleeping soundly. He wiggles his way beneath your body, pulling your arm back to its place on his chest and brushing his thumb over your brow. He really must have worn you out tonight, but he just couldn’t help it. You unlocked something in him, the part he’d always kept packed up in a box and shoved in the back of his mind. The part that knew he could love you better than any of the people who wasted your time did. That part made him eager to prove himself, eager to show you exactly how he feels in the ways he knows best, though he only used one method last night. He’s got lots of ideas if you need a little more help believing him.

His head swims with images of you as he drifts off, real and imaginary blending together to form what feels like flashbulb memories. You, waking him up with kisses. You, moving the last box from your apartment into his. You, flashing your engagement ring at some loser trying to flirt with you. You, walking down the aisle to him, a vision in white. He wants it all and with his last conscious thought, sends out into the universe a wish that his dreams will become reality.

It’s a gorgeous day, and you’ve decided to spend most of it at the beach.

Jeonghan smears more sunscreen onto your back, the hot sun beating down and soaking into his skin as he lets his hands wander more than strictly necessary. It’s a luxury he can afford now, and the way you giggle when he slides his arms around you and pulls you into his chest only makes him feel richer. He’s been touchy with you all morning, holding your hand and cupping your cheek and pinching any part of you he can reach, but you don’t seem too bothered. In fact, you seem freer than he’s ever seen you, and it occurs to him that maybe the distance wasn’t because of something he’d done but because of your feelings for him. He still wishes you’d talked to him, but he can’t blame you for freaking out and pushing him away, not when he knows you have a tendency to ignore problems until they solve themselves or get so bad you have to deal with them.

This doesn’t fit neatly into either category but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Jeonghan knows you’re in love with him and you know Jeonghan is in love with you. He’d expected the dynamic to shift but it’s the same, if only more affectionate and flirtatious, and he can’t wait to see how your relationship develops now. He’s already gotten used to touching you more, obviously, but he wouldn’t mind getting used to kissing you, too.

He starts by turning you in his arms to lean in and plant one on you, the sweet little gasp you let out music to his ears. He’s lucky you’re fake honeymooning in a country known for romance or his fast-growing penchant for kissing you might get him in trouble.

It turns out his fast-growing penchant for kissing you has gotten him into trouble. Previously, he was able to walk down the street or eat gelato or sip wine without feeling the desire to press his lips to yours. Now, it’s all he can think about, all he wants to do. He wants to start every morning and end every night with a kiss, wants getting your mouth on his to be his new hobby, wants your lips to be the last pair his ever touch.

It’s very distracting, you’re very distracting, and he really is in trouble because this is the third time today he’s zoned out staring at your mouth while you talk. He should be listening to your words but instead he’s taking in the movement of your lips, the way they form around letters, letters that combine to make his name, and fuck, he loves how you say his name. Except this time it’s followed by a frown, and he doesn’t love that.

“Jeonghan? I’m not even going to ask if you’re listening because there’s no point, but I will remind you that you have to sleep next to me and I have very sharp elbows. Who knows where they could dig in the night?

“Baby, I love every part of you, even your insanely sharp elbows. Any bruises from them are just evidence that I get to share a bed with you,” Jeonghan attempts to sweet talk you. He can tell it’s almost working, but any cheesier and it might backfire on him so he’ll stand down for now.

Thankfully, you decide to forgive him and the day continues without any more transgressions or threats of elbows in the cover of darkness. You’d had more than enough sun at the beach and more than a wise amount of pasta at lunch, so you’ve decided to spend some time sipping cappuccinos in the piazza. It makes for amazing people watching, and Jeonghan can’t help but notice an elderly couple milling about, bickering in fast Italian as they peruse the market. Their tones are sharp but filled with begrudging affection, and it’s easy to tell how in love they are. He wonders how long they’ve been together, who confessed to who, or if they just knew somehow. He always wonders these things when he sees couples, but it means even more to him now that he has you. He hopes that one day, you and him will grow old and gray together and become the type of couple he wonders about.

He’s back to staring at your lips over dinner, not that you notice. You’re too busy looking at the bit of chest exposed by the four buttons he’d purposefully left undone, which definitely was not his plan at all, not even a little.

Okay, maybe it was, but he can’t be blamed if it’s effective! You’re just as susceptible to him as he is to you, and he’s honestly grateful because you’d be far too powerful otherwise. You already have near complete control over him, not that you know it, so he really can’t afford not to use his one advantage - his body. And use it he will, he thinks as he frees one more button when you turn your head. Maybe this will convince you to let him get all three of the desserts he’s got his eye on.

It at least helps him plead his case for the sixty euro bottle of red rather than the forty, and he thanks you with a lusty wink from across the table, his shirt gaping open at the neck and his collarbones glistening in the setting sun. He can see it all in the reflection of your sunglasses, wishes he could see your eyes instead but understands the necessity with the heat soaking into his dark hair. He loves eating outside, feeling the breeze and catching little bits of conversations as people wander about, but he is starting to get tired of just how hot Italy gets during this time of year.

He never wants to leave though, wants to stay here in this handmade heaven with you, where none of your friends are curious about why now and none of your parents are asking when they can expect to become grandparents and nobody is asking when he’ll put a ring on that finger because he already has. Maybe that’s the main reason he doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t want to return to a reality where you’re not his wife and he’s not your husband. It’s easily rectified, but the difficult part will come in convincing you. He knows he’s got you with the shirt, but proposing marriage is a bit more serious than trying for a more expensive bottle of wine.

Either way, he’s willing to give it a shot.

The walk back to the hotel is rife with tension. The cobblestone streets are still sunwarm even as businesses slowly shut their doors, and though the piazza is vibrant with citizens, it feels like you’re the only two people in the world.

It feels just like it did last night, heated and magnetic, your bodies drawing closer together with each step forward. Soon enough, he’s got his arm slung low around your waist and your gaze caught on him like he’d hung the moon just for you. Now, he knows that he would, knows he’d climb up into the sky and pluck however many stars you wanted, all you’d have to do is ask.

You never would, you’re far too selfless of a person to covet a source of beauty just for yourself, which Jeonghan is thankful for because he’s far too lazy to figure out how to get into space. He would, however, devote the rest of his life to studying teleportation if it meant he could get you back to the hotel faster. The anticipation is burning him up inside, searing his throat and flooding down into his stomach, scorching all of his edges like wildfire, and fuck, is he getting hard?

He’s totally getting hard, and there’s still at least five minutes left of this walk. Releasing your waist, he untucks his shirt and loosens a couple buttons on either end so the flowing fabric can cover any rising embarrassment. It’s simultaneously infuriating and the hottest thing on the planet that you can undo him like this.

The situation only gets worse when you cross the lobby together to calls of, “Buona sera, Signora e Signore Yoon!”

Hearing other people call you by his name does something to him, something that makes him grab your hand and make a beeline for the elevators, something that makes him smash the door close button even as another couple approaches, something that makes him turn and back you into the corner of the elevator, his hands on your hips and his lips centimeters from yours.

“Is this okay?” Jeonghan whispers, gravitating closer and closer to you as your eyes slip shut. You breathe, “Yes,” into his lips and he’s gone, pressing his mouth to yours in a kiss so deep it’s like he’s trying to swallow you whole. He supposes he is, wants to drink you up and dress you down and spread you out, and the ding of the elevator reminds him he can do none of those things until he’s got you in the room. He’s speed walking through the doors before they even fully open, tugging you along behind him and bouncing impatiently on his toes as he digs through his pocket for the room key.

The lock turns with a click and Jeonghan all but shoves you over the threshold, backing you further and further into the suite until your knees hit the sofa. You collapse down onto the cushions and he follows you, climbing up to hover above you on his hands and knees. His hair brushes your forehead and he knows you can see all the way down his shirt, but he likes it. Loves it, really. Being this close to you.

“Let me go down on you?” He asks (begs) in between kisses, not breaking from your lips long enough for you to give him an answer. You nod instead when it’s evident he won’t let up, shivers running down his back when you sink your fingers into his hair and pull him away from you by the handful. He’s about to whine but he figures out it’s just so you can suck some marks into his neck, and Jeonghan certainly isn’t going to complain about you wanting to leave something of yourself behind on him.

He does have to stop you when he gets too hard to think clearly, his head spinning and his hands shaking as he gently pushes you back into the couch. He doesn’t want to get his shirt all messy so he hauls it over his head, just enough of the buttons undone to let him yank it off. Your hands rise immediately to lay on his stomach, the hidden ridges of his abs flexing under your palms before he takes both of your wrists in hand and presses them above your head.

“Keep those there, yeah?” Jeonghan requests, his mouth open and his eyebrow quirked as he nearly pants the words out. He’s not used to doing this much physical activity but he’s ready to get used to it with you, even if the journey is a little embarrassing. Thankfully, he doesn’t think you notice his heavy breathing, focused as you are on the faint trail of hair that leads from his belly button into his trousers.

He makes a show of unbuttoning them, reaching inside and giving himself a quick tug before dropping onto his elbows to kiss his way down your neck. You wiggle out of your dress and bra, suddenly exposing so much of your skin, and Jeonghan can’t choke back the moan that arises when he finally gets his mouth on you. You taste exquisite, so sweet with just the barest hint of saltiness from the sea, and the feeling of you is even better. You’re blissfully soft under his hands, goosebumps following his fingertips and his tongue following them, and he knows he’ll never get enough of you. He’ll be happy to die trying though, he thinks as he lavs his tongue over your nipple and watches your flesh pebble, even the smallest of your reactions fascinating to him.

He wants to cover every square inch of your torso in kisses but he’s getting a bit impatient so he works his lips down your stomach and looks up when he hits the barrier of your underwear. “Off, take them off,” you whisper when he doesn’t say anything, groaning and pushing at them when he doesn’t do anything either. He giggles, squeezing your wrists and returning them to their place above your head before pulling your panties down and pushing your thighs apart. He has to lie down when he sees you for the first time, has to rest his head against your plush thigh and just take you in, his brain muddled and his tongue almost itching to taste you.

There’s no reason for him to wait, so he doesn’t. He dives in, licking your folds apart and guiding your wetness from your entrance up to your clit so he can get a better glide going. He fucking loves this already, loves the noises coming from your mouth and your pussy, loves the taste of you on his lips and the feel of you under his tongue, loves the way you can’t seem to stay still, your hips bucking and rolling until he belts his arms over you. He wants you to move but not so much he can’t get at you like he wants, like he needs. Holding you down seems to make you wetter too, so it’s a win-win situation.

You’re so slippery, it’s easy for him to wind his tongue in circles around your clit and start to build you up. This may be the first time he’s been with you like this but it doesn’t feel like it, it feels like he knows you inside and out, like he could pull you apart with a twist of his fingers, and maybe he could but he’ll stick to his tongue for now. It’s like a little challenge, and Jeonghan wouldn’t be Jeonghan if he didn’t make everything a game.

At least in this one, there won’t be a loser. You’ll get to cum and Jeonghan will get to make you cum, and he can always use his fingers if you want to go again, so this is one of the rare times everyone wins. He’s definitely winning, his tongue swirling around your clit and his chin growing wet with you. You’re getting closer and closer, your whines and moans melting into each other until they become one continuous sound, broken up only by your gasps for breath. Your thighs twitch against his cheeks and his mind flashes back to last night, to all those nights ago when he’d thought about exactly this, and suddenly, he needs your hands on him.

“Changed my mind, baby, touch me,” Jeonghan exhales into you, stopping the movements of his mouth until your fingers sink into his hair and he can breathe again. He sucks your clit between his lips and shakes his head, the noises obscene but hot as all fuck as he licks and nibbles you into an orgasm. He wishes he could bottle up your sounds and your slick, but he can keep neither so he just soaks in your moans and laps up your wetness for as long as he can. Eventually, you curl up and push him away, heaving a sigh and letting your damp lashes flutter closed as he presses a kiss to your belly and helps you hobble to the bedroom.

He’s still hard but that can wait until you’re all settled in with a glass of water and the most essential components of your skincare routine. Maybe this time, it'll go away.

(It doesn't)

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