#GUYS ITS A WORK TEAM NOT RECESS

[pup-pee]

starts FUCKING VIBRATING

OH BOY DO I HAVE SOMETHING 2 TELL U DO I

basically redstoner is a seris by yourpalross aka the guy who voices daniel bc im pretty sure that might b the only time ive mentioned him 2 u?

but it started off as a goofy mini series where he would show off redstone invention that were rlly cool! ((read; either did not work or was awful))

then around like episode idk 14? he started going a bit insane where a red((stone)) sun showed up & his inventions got less & less coherent & he started expressing how fucking lonely he was 2 the point of spawning like 100 mikus

then he started like kidnapping & unknowingly murdering his friends((some of them deserved it- who said that?)) & UHHHHH YEAH YEAH THATS ALL ILL SAY THATS BASICLALY NO SPOILERS BUT I USED 2 B OBSESSED W/IT SOOOOO BADLY

it came out around fnaf or smth so it just randomly started getting rlly "creepy" & it was a thrill like yumyumyummm give me that red bloody text yes plsss

she red on my stoner until the red sun never sets IT NEVER SETS I AHVENT SLEPT

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Five-Point Star: The Aftermath (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Bodyguard/Assassin!Chan x Mercenary/Assassin!F.Reader Themes: Smut | bit of Fluff | Angst  Word Count: ~17k | AO3 Synopsis: After months of hindering a mercenary’s attempts to get to the person Chris was hired to protect, after months of many fights, injuries, and plotting, he had expected for the resolution to be much more satisfactory than this. [This is the second and hopefully final part to Five-Point Star]. Warnings: pet names · cold weapons · firearms · questionable morals · graphic depictions of violence · mentions of cheating [not involving the main characters] · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · open-ish ending.

Author’s Note: here’s the promised second part to FPS! i just couldn’t bring myself to leave these two the way i did in part 1… like, part 1 can totally stand as its own thing, but i HAD to have some closure. i’ve been working on this one for quite some time, so here it is! i hope you enjoy it💜 especial thanks to @notastraykid & @channieskies for beta-reading this one💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here!)

Smut Warnings: fingering [F.Rec] · oral [F.&M.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv] · no thoughts, head empty sex [aka having sex in questionable locations].

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

After months of hindering a mercenary’s attempts to get to the person Chris was hired to protect, after months of many fights, injuries, and plotting, he had expected for the resolution to be much more satisfactory than this.

Well, he wasn’t sure if this was a resolution, if the problem had been eradicated or not… He wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Seungmin, along with Chris and his team, had nicknamed that mercenary the Wraith, since it was hard to predict when they would strike, and it was pretty much impossible to find traces of their identity no matter how hard they tried. 

Whenever Chris managed to once again frustrate the Wraith’s attempts at–presumably–harming Seungmin, there simply weren’t any signs that they’d been there in the first place at all. Well, save for any injuries Chris sustained during their encounter.

He had no doubt as to what drove the Wraith to do what they did–or at least he thought he didn’t have any. This hadn’t been the first time someone had been hired to do something to Seungmin. After all, being the child of one of the most powerful families in the city certainly put a target on his back. However, this had been by far the most difficult enemy Chris and his team had to deal with.

It was frustrating, really. The Wraith seemed to always be one step ahead of them no matter how hard they tried to keep the young Kim’s schedule and plans a secret. It wasn’t until they discovered that the phone of Seungmin’s personal tailor–Hyunjin–had been wiretapped, that they were finally able to get the upper hand.

Chris had conjured this plan to get the Wraith to believe Seungmin would be attending an event in one of the oldest theatres in the city. There, Chris would be waiting for them. 

He’d admit he was cocky. He’d asked his team to not come with him, he’d told them he had to do this alone, giving them a bullshit excuse.

‘If we’re all there, Seungmin won’t be as protected as he should be, so I’m gonna be there on my own while you guys make sure he’s safe’, that was exactly what he’d told them back then, but, in reality, Chris just wanted to do this on his own because his own pride was hurt.

Chris was decent at his job. Sometimes–admittedly most times–he even believed he was good at it. But in the deep recesses of his mind, he couldn’t help but feel like the Wraith was better than him. It was more than obvious. If they hadn’t been, he would’ve been able to kill them on their very first encounter. 

Regardless, he’d gone to the theatre on his own, where he waited for the Wraith to make their expected appearance. He figured that playing the piano would elevate his plan. He hoped it’d give his opponent the impression that nothing was out of place, that this was a normal concert, and they had nothing to be suspicious of.

Funny thing, how after so many months of pushing and pulling, it was almost like Chris could already tell when the Wraith was close. So the moment they’d stepped into the hall, he’d immediately stopped his piece and shot on sight. 

It all became a blur of flying knives and missed shots, until there was no other option but to physically fight. 

The Wraith was better than Chris, and he came face to face with this fact the moment his back had hit the floor and a knife had been pressed to his neck. He’d been, once again, defeated. He was blinded by rage, by frustration…

How could this person be better than him? No one had been until this point. Sure, he’d sustained many injuries throughout his career as Seungmin’s personal bodyguard, and he’d certainly been close to dying many times, but the Wraith had managed to beat him every single time they met. It irked him beyond belief.

Chris liked to cover his face when he was on duty, at least when he was out in public. He didn’t want people to know his face, he liked to be able to go to the grocery store or meet his girlfriend without having to worry about someone recognising him and trying to kill him, so he wore his mask diligently.

But, of course, his opponent had to remove it.

Of course they wanted to see his face, it made sense to him. But the fact that it made sense didn’t diminish the blow to his pride, though.

‘…Chris?’

No one had ever spoken his first name out loud while he’d been on duty outside of the Kims’ estate. Not even his team members, they knew not to expose him like that. He liked to keep his civilian side and his professional side separated, so he figured he’d give some use to both of his given names. 

Which was why, hearing it in that context, from the Wraith, made his blood freeze in his veins. He was beyond confused, borderline panicking, but even then, the voice sounded… familiar.

Chris realised then he’d never heard the Wraith speak. And as he looked into their eyes, even the shape of their eyebrows–the only discernible feature on their face under the hood and kerchief they wore to keep the rest concealed–recognition started to settle in his brain.

But there was no way. It couldn’t have been… 

His opponent was stunned, as was he. But that didn’t stop him from slowly reaching for that kerchief covering half of their face so he could pull it down.

Nothing would’ve prepared Chris for what he’d find under that piece of fabric. 

Chris always loved to see his girlfriend whenever he could. It was honestly a miracle that he was able to have a relationship in the first place, but she’d just made it so easy from day one, so he always tried to make time and space for her in his life. Seeing her always brought him this immense sense of comfort and familiarity that just couldn’t be matched.

However, this was a setting in which he would’ve never expected to see her face. This didn’t feel comforting at all.

Your name came out of his mouth in a breathless whisper, almost as if he needed to say it outloud for his brain to truly process that it was you on top of him, pressing a knife to his throat. His head started to spin right then and there.

Had you… had you known all this time? Had you been using him? There was no way. Something in the back of his mind told him it was just impossible. He’d been careful…

The few times he actually wanted to reveal his profession to you, something always seemed to prevent him from doing so, and he always took it as a sign that it wasn’t the right time. But maybe you’d known who he was this whole time…

‘I had no idea…’

The look on your face, coupled with the way your voice trembled, made him believe you. And maybe, he wanted to believe you. There was no way the love you’d shown him all these months could be faked, not when it’d felt so genuine…

How fucking twisted… What were the odds of you being both his girlfriend and one of the most annoying mercenaries he’d had to deal with?

God, these past handful of months… He’d been dealing with you.

He’d been trying to kill you.

He’d aimed and shot and hit you with the intent of killing you.

Chris wanted to vomit. He was disgusted with himself, confused, he wanted to cry. This was all so absurd and cruel… It’d been a long time since he’d felt this way, but at that moment, he genuinely just wanted to die.

He was used to killing and hurting people. He was never fazed by any of it at this point, but he’d done it because he wanted to protect the people he cared about. You being on the receiving end of this treatment was just completely wrong. You were one of the people he cared about. He’d never wanted anything other than to protect your safety and wellbeing. 

Chris was a firm believer that men who mistreated their loved ones were just scum, that they deserved to die. He’d often killed men like these and felt absolutely no remorse about it.

But now he was one of those men.

How could he go on after this? After knowing what he’d done to you? He couldn’t… He didn’t want to.

At that moment, he firmly believed he deserved to die. He’d hurt you, not only that, but Seungmin’s life was way more important than his own, so if you absolutely had him as your target, he’d just have to continue fighting against you.

And, again, he didn’t want to…

So he asked you to kill him.

However, you refused.

The fact that you wouldn’t take his life puzzled him. How could you not want him dead? After all that had transpired, why wouldn’t you? 

Chris had always known he wasn’t a good man. At least, not in the eyes of some. But, he’d made it his mission to be a good man to you, for you… And, most times, when he was with you, he truly felt like he was. 

This changed it all. His own perception of himself had just been shattered to pieces. Who was he now? Who were you?

‘Baby…’ Chris honestly almost started sobbing when you called him that. It was his preferred pet name, he’d told you many times before how much he liked it, how it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside… Right at that moment, it didn’t make him feel that way. It felt like one of your knives had just stabbed his heart. ‘I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ll make it to our vacation this weekend’.

Oh, that stung.

Your vacation this weekend… He’d planned it all out. A relaxing getaway to the coastside, perfect for enjoying each other’s company… He’d even wanted to seriously tell you everything about this side of his life, and if you’d been fine with it, he wanted to ask you to move in with him.

Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen now.

Chris was too stunned to move from his place on the floor. Too stunned to move and do anything to stop you from leaving. He was torn, confused, he was here to kill the Wraith, and not only did he not achieve that, he’d also found out that the person he’d been trying to kill was one of the people he loved most in this world.

The rage he felt coursing through him was uncontainable. So much so, the moment he did manage to stand up from that floor, he started thrashing the stage.

Every piano had been turned to nothing but a pile of useless pieces of wood and ivory. He’d emptied his guns by shooting at the seats and walls. He did all that as tears wouldn’t stop running down his cheeks.

How fucking pathetic.

He was pathetic.

Even when he had composed himself enough to return to the Kims’ estate, Chris still felt like he was nothing but the worst man on the planet, like he was useless as a bodyguard, like he was useless as his loved ones’ protector, and like he’d become the universe’s punching bag…

“Based on that look on your face, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you didn’t get the target?” Felix’s voice greeted him as soon as he entered Seungmin’s home, further aggravating those feelings inside of him.

“No, I didn’t”, was the only thing he said to the younger man as he walked past him and made his way straight to his assigned room. 

Chris was in no condition to speak of the matter. He needed to sort his thoughts out. He knew he had to tell his team about what happened, he had to tell them who you were. He had more than enough information about you to finally stop you from getting any closer, he had enough information to end you.

As he entered his room and started taking his gloves off, as he looked at the tiny plastic gnome figurine he kept on this room’s bedside table, Chris wasn’t really sure he’d be able to do any of that.

The sound of choked coughs filled the previously quiet space.

Chris sat up abruptly on the bed, coughing violently since he, once again, had choked on his spit in his sleep.

With a trembling hand, he reached for the bottle of water he kept next to the bed. When the coughing had lessened, he chugged half the bottle in one gulp. 

‘You should really go to the doctor’s, baby…’

Your voice resonated in his mind, an echo of the mix of memories from the numerous times you’d woken him up before he started coughing. He remembered the gentle murmur like it’d been whispered to him yesterday. He could practically feel the soft caresses of your fingertips on his back.

It made him feel like his throat was closing for real.

After placing the bottle back on the bedside table, he plopped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Chris couldn’t help but remember you. It seemed like it was all he did these days. 

His brain was certainly his worst enemy, especially at times like these, when he wasn’t on active duty, when he was just trying to get a few hours of sleep in his assigned room. Within the solitude of these four walls, it was easy for his brain to attack him, to send him in a spiral of memories that did nothing but make his heart ache and his eyes sting…

“Aaahhh… The food was absolutely delicious”, you rubbed your belly as you walked, with a big smile on your face. “I feel like I’m about to burst… But seriously, though, you should’ve at least let me pay for my food”.

Chris looked at you, amused at how you slightly swayed side to side with each step. He, too, felt like he was about to burst. The meal had been good, it’d been amazing, but… the company had certainly been much better.

When was the last time he felt like this? This… calm? Calm, but somehow still a bit giddy. He genuinely couldn’t recall…

“Nonsense”, he waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought. “I invited you for dinner, didn’t I? ‘Least I could do was pay”.

You turned to look at him, pouting, and it was honestly… adorable.

You were adorable, he’d known this since the very first day he met you, but every time he saw you after that, you somehow managed to step it up a notch. And he truly couldn’t cope.

Chris could hardly believe he was here tonight, having a date, and with a person he genuinely liked at that. It’d been a long time since he’d done anything remotely close to going on a date, but a few nights ago, after spending another evening talking to you at one of his friend’s gatherings, he found himself asking you out before he could stop himself.

It was unplanned, uncalculated, which was so unlike him… He always tried to plan ahead. Considering the profession he was in, he had to carefully choose who he associated himself with. Chris hardly ever mingled with civilians, but when he did, it was usually with this particular friend group from his childhood, who you seemed to also be acquainted with through a friend of yours.

The first time he spoke with you, he thought he was making a fool of himself, but as the night progressed, something started to linger between you two… Call it tension, or chemistry, but he was certainly intrigued.

Every time he went to his friend’s house to socialise, you were there. And every time, his always ended up with him sitting next to you, talking well into the wee hours of the night, about the silly shows you watched, or anything you felt like talking about, really.

Chris genuinely enjoyed talking to you, which he figured was exactly the reason why he’d asked you out on a date. He was honestly tired of seeing you only in the confines of his friend’s fence, it just wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

“C’mon, no pouts”, Chris chuckled, taking your hand. You seemed to be a bit surprised at the action, and, being honest, he was surprised at the action. But he’d already done it, so he wouldn’t back down. Thankfully, even if it had surprised you, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you intertwined your fingers with his, effectively agitating the butterflies in his stomach. “Let’s take a walk, hm?”

With leisure steps, you walked until you found yourselves at the pier. There were people here, but it wasn’t overly crowded, which Chris was grateful for.

Just before you both made it to the railing so you could look at the sea, you exclaimed an excited ‘Oh!’, and bent down to pick up something from the ground.

“Look!” You showed Chris what you found, and he couldn’t keep the smile from forming on his lips. “It’s just a little guy!”

Chris chuckled at your outburst. He giggled. You’d just made him giggle… When was the last time he giggled like this? “It really is!”

“D’you wanna give him a home?” You wiggled the figurine in front of him. “I heard these can be tokens of good luck”.

Chris immediately extended his palm, and you carefully placed the plastic toy in his hand. A gnome, around half the size of his finger. For having been found on the ground, it didn’t look in bad shape, it was honestly cute, so he put it in his pocket, and placed his hand over his heart after.

“Promise I’ll take good care of him”, Chris smiled at you. “I do need some luck”.

You chuckled at that, before you tugged him along so you could finally make it to the railing. With your elbows propped on it, you both spent a good while there, just talking, joking, and enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the breakwater.

It was… nice. Relaxing, even. 

He didn’t really know how he found himself standing so close to you, moving a few strands of hair away from your face and caressing your cheek with his knuckles. Most shockingly to him, was how you let him do these things. You looked comfortable, like you were genuinely enjoying spending time with him.

“If I tried to kiss you… would you let me?” The words escaped from somewhere deep within him. A question that he’d had in the back of his mind every time he looked at your lips, every time he saw you smile or laugh. He’d never thought he’d say it out loud, but here he was, saying them to you directly.

“Yes”, there wasn’t a single gram of hesitation in your voice, although he was sure he could hear a hint of surprise. It was almost like, just as his question, your answer had come out of your mouth before you could stop to think about it.

Your lips were so soft… you tasted like the balm you’d applied a few minutes ago, and the minty gum you’d been chewing earlier. Your cheeks, too, were soft under his palms when he held them between his hands.

Chris was certain you were soft all over. You looked soft, and maybe that was why his hands had found their way to your hips, where he could mindlessly knead the flesh over your jeans while his mouth was too busy getting acquainted with yours.

He pulled away from the kiss briefly, only to be met with a shy smile on your face before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in again. He couldn’t stop the delighted laugh that bubbled within him, nor the way he dived in fully into your kiss.

Maybe that gnome was lucky. Maybe it was thanks to that gnome that he’d somehow managed to come back to his flat accompanied for once. At least the one time he did want to come back with someone…

Chris could barely remember the last time another person was here with him. It must’ve been with one of his siblings, for sure. He had no doubts that he’d never brought anyone he was remotely attracted to in here, but he figured tonight was a night of trying new things.

Like pretending he could be just some guy… that he could be normal.

He hadn’t truly processed what was going on until you were both on his bed, dressed in nothing but your underwear. Propped on his elbows, he just looked at you.

You were wearing a black set, with a repeating pattern of red hearts on both pieces. It was… cute. In his humble–and absolutely correct–opinion, it fit you amazingly, you looked gorgeous under him like this, looking up at him like you genuinely wanted him. Like you saw him.

Which… made him feel nervous. 

Anyone else would’ve told him it was a silly thing to feel in this context. Chris had had plenty of sex in his life, but right here, right now, he wasn’t sure if this was anything like the sex he used to have. It didn’t feel like it, for sure. Mostly because he was feeling things. It wasn’t a chore or a commitment, there was genuine desire spreading within him, and it was a bit scary…

“What’s wrong?” you mumbled, cupping his cheeks.

Chris swallowed, suddenly aware that he’d zoned out for a moment there, long enough for the need reflecting in your eyes to start mixing with concern. Should he tell you what was going through his mind? If he did, would you mind…?

Tonight was indeed a night of firsts, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to open up fully. It was enough of a miracle that he’d let you into his flat, that he himself had willingly brought you here after a date.

“I…” Chris figured there were things he shouldn’t talk about just yet, but he really, really liked you, so saying something that was true, without revealing any details of his past, felt right. And he did just that. “I haven’t really… It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, okay? I guess I’m just… a bit out of my element”.

“Oh…” Your eyes widened in surprise, and your hands moved away from his face to rest on his shoulders instead.

Fuck… He fucked up. He probably shouldn’t have said that. Why did he have to be honest? He should’ve pretended, like he always did…

“Yeah, sorry to be a disappointment”, he chuckled, although it didn’t sound very humorous, not even to his ears.

“What? No, no”, you squeezed his shoulders, and your gaze immediately softened. “I’m just surprised! I just wasn’t expecting someone like you to just… y’know, not be having sex”.

That made him chuckle, genuinely this time. “What do you mean? I can’t even believe you’re here. I’ve got no idea how we managed to get to this point, honestly”.

“You’re very charming”, bringing your hands to his face again, you smiled at him. “If it makes you feel any better, I also haven’t… really done this in a while. I don’t usually go on dates at all… but I guess you’ve really made an impression on me. Clearly”.

That did make Chris feel slightly better.

“We don’t really have to do anything, y’know?” You said it very seriously, with no hesitation. “It’s fine by me, really. Although, I’d appreciate some cuddles anyway, if that’s okay with you”.

It was such a simple thing.

He didn’t have to do anything.

He could say no if he wanted to, and, somehow, he knew you’d respect that. Or, at the very least, he wanted to believe you would respect that. You hadn’t shown him any differently so far.

“Oh, we’re definitely cuddling…” Chris dived in, finding your neck with ease to attach his lips to your skin. “Later, though…”

“Later?” You chuckled, burying one of your hands in his hair, and placing the other on his lower back. 

“Mm…” With a trail of kisses, Chris made his way down your neck, your chest, finally using his hands to further push your breasts together so he could bury his face between them. “I really want you”.

And he really, really did. Probably more than he’d wanted anyone in a long time.

“I want you, too”, you replied simply, honestly.

It was one of the things Chris had liked about you since the very first moment he spoke with you. Your honesty, your transparency… you never really seemed to care about keeping pretences, always went straight to the point and voiced your thoughts.

Chris was a taker. He took lives, took money, took territories… he took things from people as he saw fit. Whether it was the right thing to do or not he didn’t care. 

But that wasn’t his inherent nature, and he’d always been painfully aware of this. For a long time, he’d been trained to take things, he was good at it, but, deep down, he was a giver.

To the people that were close to him, to the people that really knew him, he yearned to give all he could offer. 

That night, he really wanted to give you everything. So he did.

It was all so vulnerable, but so exhilarating at the same time. To not feel judged, nor belittled, to be open with his wants and needs, to be consumed by fire and passion… It was something he wasn’t used to, but the more time passed with you two in his bedroom, the more he realised just how much he liked it, how much he liked you…

With the first orgasm he managed to coax out of you, he realised just how much he wanted this to be a thing, he felt that you were just so compatible. Physically, emotionally, and, with a bit of luck, romantically, too.

Even after a couple of hours, when he was already giving you those cuddles he’d promised, when he asked you to stay the night, basking in the post-orgasm buzz, he believed wholeheartedly that this could work.

‘You’ll call me back, right?’ Chris couldn’t help himself when he asked you that the morning after your date.

It was crazy. There was no real space in his life for a relationship, not when he had to hide his profession from you. What would you think of him once you knew that the majority of the time he was a cold-blooded assassin, and not the dorky guy you met through a friend of a friend?

He would’ve liked to be like you. Honest and straightforward, but maybe it was for the best to not mention this just yet. It was only just one date, just one night of quite possibly the most fulfilling sex he’d ever had, but he already knew that this was something he wanted. He wanted to hold onto this feeling for as long as possible, he wanted you.

‘Would you like that?’ You’d asked amusedly, before you kissed him, standing right on the entrance of his flat.

‘I would’. 

You’d smiled at him. After pressing one final kiss on his cheek, you mumbled against his skin. ‘Maybe I will, then…’

And you did.

In recent years, Chris had never felt as happy as he did when he was with you. He wholeheartedly believed that his relationship with you was one of the best things to ever happen to him.

At least, until that night in the theatre.

Reminiscing the past was hard these days, especially after the first month without hearing from you. He’d gone through so many different emotions. He felt angry, sad, and sometimes even betrayed…

He’d always believed you to be a transparent person, and maybe you were, but, just like himself, you clearly wanted to keep this part of yourself in the dark. He supposed he couldn’t blame you, but it still bothered him. 

Why didn’t you tell him before? 

If you’d told him, you would’ve probably never been in this situation. The Wraith’s attacks started well after you’d gotten together, so, if he’d known who you were, and you’d known who he was, he was convinced none of this would’ve happened at all.

Chris would’ve liked to tell you all this, to shout and get all these thoughts and feelings off his chest. But every time he picked up the phone to call you, he chickened out.

At first, he told himself that it was to keep things less complicated. In reality, he just couldn’t stand the thought of the call not going through…

So he didn’t do anything.

He was too tired, and maybe too much of a coward to face this.

Maybe one day, he’d grow the balls to do it. Maybe one day he’d get some sort of closure, but that day clearly wouldn’t be any time soon.

Chris often spent his nights on patrol around the Kims’ estate. He couldn’t really bring himself to sleep at night, so he was usually working well into the morning, until they changed guard.

Although, no one really dared come here. Since he became one of Seungmin’s personal bodyguards years ago, there’d been only two instances in which someone tried to infiltrate his home. 

Both times, the person had ended up dead, of course. That was the Five-Point Stars’ sole purpose, to keep the young heir safe. Chris was genuinely proud of his team, they always carried out their task without hesitation, and he was convinced their skills were unmatched.

Tonight, though, something didn’t feel quite right. There was this feeling of dread inexplicably pooling in Chris’ stomach, and it was making it really hard to focus on doing his job.

It was close to midnight when the feeling started intensifying, so Chris moved from his post outside Seungmin’s wing of the estate, leaving Jeongin on his own to guard the space. If anything went down, the younger man would be more than capable of taking care of it, Chris was very confident in this, so he felt no reservations when he started patrolling the outer areas.

After a while of just walking, he just couldn’t ignore his gut feeling any further.

There was someone sneaking around in the Kims’ estate, Chris could feel their every move, but he couldn’t see them, and that made that feeling of uneasiness grow inside him. Not because he was scared, by any means, but because it all felt just how it did whenever he had to deal with the Wraith… whenever he had to deal with you.

Chris hadn’t heard from you in three months, not from the you that was his girlfriend–…ex-girlfriend?–nor the you that was the Wraith. He supposed, ultimately, you were both, just like he was both Chris and Chan, but it was still just so surreal to him…

Three months and his head still couldn’t wrap around the idea that you were both the person he loved, and the one he despised. Anyone that dared come anywhere near Seungmin with ill-intent was an enemy to him, but the more he pondered on the fact that you were doing that, the less he could see you as an enemy… And that, maybe, just maybe, did scare him.

You’d become his weakness, to the point where if he were to see you now, in this estate, trying to kill Seungmin, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to carry out his one and only task. He’d spent these last few months begging to the stars above his head that you wouldn’t try to get to Seungmin again, because he genuinely didn’t know if he’d be able to stop you.

As Chris followed his gut instinct, trying to chase that phantom of a presence that seemed to glide through the corridors, he started to come to terms with the fact that the possibilities of the intruder being you were just way too high, it was all too familiar… 

And he hated it.

He hated it all…

He caught a shadow moving in his peripheral vision, and not even thinking twice about it, he chased it–as quietly and stealthily as his skills let him.

Before he knew it, he had raised his gun and pressed it against the back of the person’s head, right against their hood. They raised both of their hands to signal they didn’t have any weapons at hand, and even if the movement should’ve eased his mind, it didn’t. It only confirmed his worst fear.

Knowing what he knew now, he could just recognise the fingers poking through the gloves’ holes, and the overall frame.

There you stood, after three months of nothing, dressed just how you had been the last time he saw you. Chris tried his best to ignore the lump that seemed to be growing in his throat, the desperate need to both scream and cry and hug you and push you away. 

Instead, he just pressed the muzzle of his gun a bit harder against your skull, taking a deep breath before he spoke. “What’re you doing here?”

Your shoulders seemed to relax the tiniest bit as you heard the sound of his voice, which, in other circumstances, Chris would’ve deemed a very foolish reaction on your part. But, being honest, he wouldn’t be surprised if you already knew it’d be incredibly hard for him to harm you.

“Looking for you”.

Cursed be his heart for jumping in his ribcage, it was almost embarrassing how quickly and easily the sound of your voice was able to kick-start it into a messy, erratic pace. Chris couldn’t let that show, though. He needed to bluff, and he needed to do it well. 

“Bullshit”, he swallowed, trying to get rid of that knot in his throat. It just made it worse. “What are you truly here for?”

Your shoulders rose and fell with your deep breath, and slowly, so very slowly, you started to move, to turn around so you could finally be face to face with him. You kept your hands up in the air, to show him you weren’t going to attack, but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not any more than it already was.

As usual, the lower part of your face was covered by a black kerchief, and the hood of your outfit almost fell over your eyes. The sight was almost revolting, if he thought about it too deeply… His gun raised, pressed against your forehead, ready to be shot at any second. It was something out of his worst nightmares, of those that showed him himself hurting the people he loved.

“I’m telling you the truth, I’ve been looking for you. I’ve come to warn you”.

“Warn me?” The statement was so unexpected Chris couldn’t even hide the surprise in his voice, but he recovered quickly, trying to mask his emotions with a condescending scoff. “What could you possibly need to warn me about?”

“They’re coming for you”, you said simply, your eyes unwavering as they stared deeply into his.

“They being?”

“The Guild”, your fingers moved, but you weren’t doing anything particularly malicious, you simply used your thumb to crack each knuckle, a gesture he knew you did only when you were nervous.

You must’ve known he knew this detail about you. He’d tried to stop you from cracking your knuckles many times in the past, whenever you were watching a scary movie that made you anxious, or whenever you had to order at a new restaurant. Back then, he would always take your hand in his, and drag his thumb on the back of it to help ease those nerves.

Chris couldn’t do that now.

To display such weakness in front of him messed with his head. Were you doing it out of real nervousness, or were you doing it as a tactic to distract him…? 

Regardless, he knew of the Guild. He’d heard of them before. Essentially a hub of guns-for-hire, with an extensive catalogue of many different mercenaries, who specialised in different activities. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was who you really worked for, that it’d been through them that you were hired to get to Seungmin.

“Someone has been hired to do what I couldn’t do. I heard them talking and I just… I felt like I needed to warn you”.

“You could’ve just called, why come all the way here for that?” Chris’ arm was getting tired from holding up the gun, but he just couldn’t lower it.

“I tried”, you sighed. “I tried, but you wouldn’t pick up, so I came here…”

Chris’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You called? There was no way… He would’ve seen it. Hell, he would’ve picked up. Unless… “When did you call?”

“Around thirty minutes ago”.

That’d explain why he wouldn’t have heard it. He never carried his personal mobile phone with him when he was on duty–or at least he tried not to. He used to do it a couple of times a week, on the days that he missed you, that he wanted to know anything that had been going on in your day–what you ate, what you were doing, what you were watching, anything that could make him feel close to you… He hadn’t done that in three months.

“And it couldn’t wait?” Chris was doing an excellent job at keeping the scowl on his face and the annoyed tone in his voice, probably because he was feeling exactly like that. Annoyed. “You tried to hurt Seungmin and now you care about what happens to him? Hard to believe”.

“I don’t fucking care about Seungmin”, your eyebrows knitted together, and in a movement way too fast for someone that had a gun pointed to their forehead, you pulled your kerchief down, revealing your face fully to him.

It was almost pathetic how his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“I’ve got no ill feelings towards the kid, truly, but I also don’t really care about him. The people talking… They said they were going for Seungmin’s guard dog first, in hopes of debilitating his security system, so I… I just…”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. When you opened them again, the glint of vulnerability shining in your gaze made his heart ache.

“I know it’s crazy, fuck… I didn’t think this through. They’re planning on striking sometime this week, and I just felt like I needed to come and tell you, so you could be prepared”.

Chris swallowed thickly. His hand trembled the tiniest bit, he wasn’t sure if you could feel his gun tremble against your skin, too. “If any of this is true, how could I even know you’re not here to distract me from doing my job? That this isn’t one of your schemes?”

“You can’t know”, you said, matter-of-factly. “There’s no way for you to confirm what I’m saying is true. All you can do is trust me and my word. I dropped the job after our encounter in the theatre. I just can’t do it when I’m this emotionally involved”.

When I’m this emotionally involved…

When I’m…

I’m…

I am…

I am…

I am…

Present tense.

You said that in present tense, like you were… like you were still emotionally involved.

Chris was weak. He was weak for you. Three months with no contact couldn’t change that, the fact that you had tried to kill him couldn’t change that, and the fact that he had tried to kill you also didn’t seem to be able to change that.

He was weak, and he couldn’t hide it.

With a sigh, he lowered his gun, and your frame immediately relaxed as soon as the weapon wasn’t pointed in your direction. “How infuriating…”

“What? Me? Or the people coming for your boss?” There was the tiniest bit of a humorous tone in your voice, and it just made him sigh again.

“Both”, he took his communicator from his belt, and clicked the communication button to speak with his colleague. “SpearB, do you copy? Over”.

There were a few seconds of silence, until the communicator crackled and Changbin’s voice resonated from the device. “I hear you, Channie. Over”.

You arched an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest, mouthing a ‘Channie?’ at him, which Chris decided to ignore completely. 

“Check in with Yongbok and make sure the perimeter is secure. Something doesn’t feel quite right, so we need to keep a close eye on each and every entrance. Over”.

The device crackled again. “You think it’s the Wraith? Over”.

Chris looked at you, and you looked right back at him. Your body was tense once again, and a spark of doubt flashed in your eyes. Licking his lips, he clicked the button on the device once more. “No. No, I don’t think it’s the Wraith. Just do what I said, and let me know if you find anything out of order. Over”.

‘Roger that. Over!’ was the last thing Chris heard from Changbin. He returned the communicator to its holster on his belt, all without taking his eyes from you.

There was a moment of silence, a moment that seemed to be stretching far too long for his liking, so he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “So… You’ve delivered your message. What now?”

You attempted to pop your knuckles again, the action obviously gave no results, since you’d done this already earlier, but Chris knew that wouldn’t stop you. It never did, your nervous habits always shone through.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a door opened somewhere in the area, and the sound of Changbin’s whistling filled his ears. Your eyes widened, just like Chris’ did as you stared at one another.

This was dangerous. If anyone saw you, you were at risk of being tortured for information, or straight up killed because of your numerous attempts to hurt Seungmin.

Chris wasn’t thinking, he just had to act, and he had to do it fast. Taking your hand, he quickly pulled you further down the corridor, where he could push you against the wall, right behind a column to hopefully hide you both from his teammate. 

You opened your mouth again to say something, and Chris simply placed a hand over your mouth to stop you, bringing his index finger to his lips to signal you to not make any noise. 

As the sound of steps drew closer, Chris mindlessly pressed you further against the wall, hopefully minimising the chances of Changbin seeing you.

He held his breath, waiting patiently as he looked at the shadows his friend’s body casted against the nearby wall. 

When it seemed like the steps were becoming more and more distant, Chris looked back at you, and only then did he realise just how close you both were. Your bodice was rigid against his chest, and the handles of your knives poked his abdomen. Noses almost brushed against each other, the hand he’d placed on the wall was itching to hold your waist, and as he looked into your eyes, as he saw galaxies and a plethora of feelings swimming in them, he was almost winded by how warm you felt. 

Chris could barely hear Changbin’s footsteps over his heart beating this fast and loud in his ears.

Fuck, he was a weak man. 

A weak man who was still hopelessly in love. 

It took a couple of minutes for Changbin to finally leave the area completely, his exit was signalled by the sound of a door opening and closing. Just to be safe, though, he kept quiet for a while longer, he kept pressing you against the wall and his hand firmly on your mouth.

Just to be safe… No other ulterior motives at all…

After a few moments, he finally removed his hand away from your mouth, slowly, so very slowly moving it to rest against the wall instead, right next to your waist as well. You mindlessly licked your lips as soon as his hand was off your face, and Chris couldn’t help but focus on the movement. 

Oh, your lips… how he missed them… He missed the way they moved with every word you said, how you would mindlessly chew on them when you were focused, how they felt like against his own, against any and every part of his body… 

“Why are you here?” Chris’ voice was barely a whisper. He didn’t intend for the words to come out unsteady, nor for his hands to start trembling slightly against the wall, but it was hard for his body not to react this way when he’d spent all these weeks just steeping in his own misery. 

You took a deep breath, your chest rose and fell against his own, and right then, with the barely there illumination of the bulbs on the roof, he could see your eyes start to shine with the tears that welled in them. 

“Because I care about you”, you said it so easily, like you weren’t just reaching inside his ribcage and squeezing his weak little heart with such a simple statement. “I know it’s stupid. That it’s insane, considering everything that’s happened. But I really can’t help it. Every day, all I can think about is how you’d be. If you’re eating well, if you’re getting enough sleep… And I hate it”.

You were trying really hard not to let the tears fall, it was obvious to Chris, yet your voice didn’t waver, not a little bit.

“I hate that I worry about you knowing what I’ve done to you. I hate that I can’t stop caring. When I heard them talking tonight about how they wanted to hurt you I just… I couldn’t think straight, I had to do something”, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the wall.

Chris couldn’t say anything. He just couldn’t. He wanted to tell you that he couldn’t stop caring, either. That he felt guilty, yes, but he still cared. That he’d always care, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

When you opened your eyes again, those tears you were trying so hard to hold back started to silently fall, and he wanted to cry himself. “Warning you… it’s not much, and it’s probably more a selfish act than anything else, but I had to do it. I had to… had to see you. Because I miss you, Chris, fuck… I miss you so much it hurts more than any blow Chan has ever landed on me”.

Chris was doomed. He was weak, and in love, and he was absolutely doomed.

His brain shut down completely. He knew it the moment he felt his lips on yours, the moment your fingers tangled in his hair and the quietest moan escaped your mouth. 

The kiss was messy and desperate, he couldn’t seem to be able to be any closer to you, and yet he still tried. He held your waist tightly, like you would vanish if he didn’t. He pressed you further against the wall, dizzy with the violent stir of his feelings, with the feel of your tongue against his own and your yearning kiss.

At that moment, the fact that he was Chan, bodyguard of Kim Seungmin, didn’t matter. The fact that you were the Wraith, an assassin that had been hired to harm the person he was supposed to protect, didn’t matter, either. All that mattered was that he was Chris, that you were you, and that he’d missed you and that he needed you.

When he pulled back from the kiss, panting slightly, the sight of you, all flustered, breathless, of your blown pupils, was enough for his walls to crumble. That look in your eyes was unmistakable to him, it set his insides alight and sent his mind into overdrive.

“Come with me”, without hesitation, Chris took your hand and tugged you along the corridor.

He vaguely recalled taking his communicator and calling Jeongin to ask him to continue covering for him as there was something he needed to attend to, just like he vaguely recalled the younger man telling him he had it covered. The only thing he could register for sure was the tight hold of your hand in his, and the moan that came out of your lips when he pushed you into one of the supply closets and kissed you again.

Chris blindly reached for the lightswitch before he pushed you against the closest wall. One of your legs wrapped around his hip to pull him closer to you, and he immediately took a hold of your thigh to keep you securely in place.

“Have you… been with anyone after…” You started to ask, your words broken between desperate presses of lips and tugs of teeth.

How absurd. As if he could have. As if he would’ve ever even wanted that in the first place… Regardless, even with the hazy state of his mind, he knew exactly why you were asking, so he shook his head. “Have you?”

You shook your head as well, further pulling on his hair so your lips wouldn’t detach from his. Although there was a part of him that kind of expected you to not have been with anyone, it still made him feel relieved. It made him feel… hopeful.

What a dangerous emotion to feel.

Letting go of your thigh so he could free his hands, your leg fell to the floor while Chris unbuttoned his gloves. “Are you still on birth control?”

“Yes”, your reply came immediately, eagerly, and his mind just fogged up further.

“Good”, he pulled his gloves off and dropped them somewhere on the floor.

With a tight hold on your hips, he flipped you around and pulled your hips back a bit towards him, so your ass could be flush with his crotch. Chris kept kissing your cheek, your neck, any bit of exposed skin he could, just as you ground your backside against his growing erection, while he frantically fumbled with your belt buckle and the buttons of your trousers.

“How many fucking buttons does this thing have?” Chris mumbled against your skin, quickly popping open what seemed like hundreds of studs. “How impractical…”

“Looks better than a zipper–Oh!” 

Chris pushed your bottoms down as soon as he’d popped open the very last button, just enough to expose the delectable flesh of your ass to his hungry eyes. He wanted to smack the luscious fat so badly, but even in his desperate state, he knew it was a really, really bad idea, so he settled for holding one of your buttocks tightly with one hand, while he brought the other close to your face.

“Open up, bun”, your lips parted as soon as he’d asked you to, and he quickly pushed two fingers inside your mouth.

A moan muffled against his digits when you sucked on them, and Chris could almost start feeling his head spin with arousal. God, your mouth… He’d always known it’d be the death of him one day…

“That’s it, baby. Make sure you get them drenched”, after letting go of your buttock, he hastily unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and pushed the zipper down so he could reach inside his underwear and finally free himself. 

The air was cool against his heated flesh, especially at the tip where pre-cum had started to leak. He pumped himself a couple of times, it was nowhere near as satisfactory as he knew your cunt would be, but it was certainly a pleasant warm-up.

As soon as he removed his fingers from your mouth, he brought them to your centre, where he made sure to coat his fingers in your essence to spread it all around your opening before he finally stuffed those two digits into you. You bit your lip to muffle the noises threatening to escape your throat, leaning your forehead against the wall as Chris tried his best to prep you in such an unfortunate setting.

“Tell me if it hurts. Hm? You know you can tell me, right?” Chris whispered in your ear, and you immediately nodded in response.

“Just… Fuck, just get inside, baby, please”, how could he stall any further when you sounded so eager and desperate for him, in the same way that he was for you? When you called him ‘baby’?

So he pulled his fingers out, making you whine at the loss of contact. It didn’t last long, though, because he stepped closer almost immediately after. He spat on his hand, and smeared his saliva all over his length before he lined himself with your entrance.

As he started to push in, he brought his free hand to your front, finding your clit with expert ease, rubbing slow circles on it to hopefully aid his intrusion. There was a whine, a quiet one, and Chris hushed you, kissing your cheek. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re doing well, so well. Remember to tell me if it’s too much…” He mumbled. It was almost funny how quickly he got into his role, he was so used to treating you like this, to checking in on you, that not even the place you were in, or the outfits you were wearing could stop him from doing it. All he got from you was a nod, a sigh that vaguely sounded like his name, and a push of your hips. “Impatient, bun? Hungry for my cock, are you, baby?”

You nodded, pushing back as much as you could to get him all the way in, making him hiss. “I am. I fucking am. Need you to fuck me, and I need it now, Christopher”. 

“Fuck…” It was an awkward angle, but he needed to kiss you. There was hardly anything he enjoyed more than kissing you while he was balls deep inside your warmth. Every push of his tongue, every bite on his lips, everything made it so your walls continuously clamped around him, all of it combined made him delirious, and even more so when he finally started to move.

Chris was trying his best to go slow, his mind was hazy with lust and need and want, but he still wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you. You, however, weren’t making it easy. You pushed back to sharply meet his calculated thrusts, and all he could do was match your pace, until the only noise in the room were the contained groans and moans and the obnoxious clattering of metal as both of your belt buckles swayed with your movements.

His fingers sped up, and very quickly, the obscene sounds produced when your bodies met joined the messy symphony playing all around you. Your grip on his hair was tight, the way your moans were catching in your throat was getting him impatient, he wanted to hear you properly, he wasn’t used to you holding back, and the sudden increased speed of his motions felt like it was his subconscious desperately trying to pull all those delicious sounds out of you.

He was talking. He knew he was talking, but he could barely hear what he was mumbling to you, all he knew was that, whatever it was, it had you whining quietly, meeting his thrusts harder, mumbling things back to him. 

Chris wanted to feel more of you, as much as he could, so he pulled his vest up, and took the hem between his teeth. He couldn’t talk like this, but he figured it was a small price to pay so he could feel your bottom freely bounce off his skin. Returning his hand to your hip, he held your soft flesh tightly, relishing the way the flesh dipped under his grip.

“C–Chris… Gonna–gonna come…” Your fingers flexed against the wall in what looked like a futile attempt to get a hold of something, to keep yourself grounded.

He wanted to tell you to come. Hell, he needed you to come around his cock right now or he would die, he was sure. But he couldn’t speak with the stupid fabric in his mouth, so he simply fucked you harder, faster, diligently rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs in that way he’d learnt to do throughout your numerous intimate encounters since the very beginning of your relationship.

Your relationship…

Were you two still in a relationship?

In all honesty, right then, with your presence consuming him, he hoped you were. 

The sight of you biting your fist to keep your moans contained, coupled with the feel of your warmth fluttering around his length as a result of your orgasm, made him lightheaded. His pace didn’t relent, though. He fucked you through it, just how he knew you liked it, while you did your best to weakly keep meeting his movements.

His lower abdomen tightened, he could feel his own climax nearing increasingly fast, and God, if he wanted that feeling to wash over him right the fuck now… 

He finally let go of the hem of his vest so he could speak. “Where–Shit… Where do you want it, pretty?”

At this point he would come anywhere, in you, on you, out of you… But he needed to do what you wanted, and what you wanted became painfully clear to him when you hastily removed one of your gloves, pushed him away from you a bit, and dropped to your knees.

Oh, how he’d missed the feel of your hand on him, and the squelching sounds it made when you jerked him off while he was still covered in your juices. You held him with that perfect pressure that you’d learnt to use all those months ago, looking up at him with dark eyes and your moist lips slightly parted as you still tried to catch your breath.

“Look at you, fuck–!” Chris threw his head back the moment you took him in your mouth, getting in as much of him as you could while gently squeezing his balls.

You hummed around his length, trying to get his attention, so Chris opened his eyes again, finding that look in your eyes that always got him close, the one that begged him to move. So he did, placing a hand on your head and shallowly thrusting into your mouth to complement your own movement.

“Fuck, bun… Gonna blow, shit–”

It was his turn now to bite his fist to contain his desperate noises. Three months of tension seemed to evaporate from his body when he found his release. He could only feel the tingles of pleasure shooting to every one of his limbs as your lips dragged around his cock, as you hummed and moaned in your own bliss.

His legs felt like they were going to give out, his arms felt like jelly, and his brain was void of anything other than you and your devious mouth. For a second, Chris wondered if you were going to try to overstimulate him, but you didn’t. You simply got your mouth off of him to lick the remnants of his cum that beaded at the tip.

Before he could even think about it, he was already helping you to your feet. Cupping your cheeks, he kissed you. Slowly, deeply, getting the combined taste of him and you from your lips and your tongue.

Your arms wrapped around his waist, and Chris wrapped his around your neck as he waddled forward to press you against the wall again. Partially because he enjoyed the feeling of it, partially because he felt like his legs were really going to give out, and the wall certainly provided much needed support.

As his kiss slowed into simple pecks of his lips on yours–and yours on his–the haze that seemed to have clouded every single one of his senses started to clear up.

In what was quite possibly the worst case of post-nut clarity he’d ever experienced, it started to dawn on him just how stupid and reckless this was. He shouldn’t have brought you in here, the longer you stayed within this estate the more at risk you both were.

You seemed to be coming to the same realisation, because the gentle pecks of your lips on his stopped, and you pulled back to look him in the eyes, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. Your arms unravelled from around his waist, only for your hands to rest on it. “Chris…”

He closed his eyes and sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I know…”

Stupid. You wanted to tell him this was stupid, he didn’t need you to say it to know.

Pressing lingering kisses on your cheek, he pulled up your trousers, and started fastening the trillion buttons, just as you did the same to him. You gently buckled his belt, and it was now your turn to start pressing kisses on his cheek, just as he finished with your belt-buckle.

His heart felt as if it was both swelling with love and being harshly squeezed with agony. 

What was this? What did this mean for you two now? He couldn’t undo the past, what he’d done, what you’d done… It was going to have repercussions, ones he didn’t even want to think about right now.

When he took a step back from your space to finish fixing his clothes, he watched you as you did the same.

“Need to get you out of here”, Chris mumbled, trying to fix the mess his hair had become from your continuous pulling and his own sweat–all that time straightening it this morning for nothing… “You’ve been here for way too long”.

“I can get out. That’s no problem”, you sounded confident in your statement, and, honestly, based on what he’d seen the Wraith do, he wouldn’t really be surprised if it truly was no problem for you to sneak in and out… Good for you, but bad for their security system, he figured…

There was a moment of deafening silence, a moment of you looking into his eyes and Chris looking into yours. Dragging his fingers through his hair, he sighed.

“We need to talk about this. But not now, not here in these… circumstances”.

“I agree”, you replied simply, picking up your glove from the floor and grimacing when you put it on your still sticky hand.

Chris reached for his own gloves he’d haphazardly dropped on the floor earlier, and tucked them in his back pocket before he opened the door and looked out the corridor to make sure no one was there.

Coast clear, so he turned back to look at you. “If… If you want, I’m free tomorrow evening. You could… drop by. After eight, preferably”.

You took a deep breath. It took you a moment to do anything, but when you did, you moved into his space, placing a hand on his chest and the other on the nape of his neck. You leaned in, and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“After eight”, you confirmed, and it was honestly pathetic how fast his heart started to beat when he heard those two words.

After offering him one last, small smile, you finally removed yourself from his space. Pulling the kerchief back over the lower part of your face, you went through the door and eventually disappeared somewhere by the end of the corridor.

This was completely crazy, insane, and the fact that you were still pretty much considered an enemy in his circle should’ve filled him with anxiety. He’d just had sex with you, after knowing who you were and what you’d tried to do…

And yet, oddly enough, he could only feel relaxed. Like he had finally breached the surface after swimming underwater for too long.

Seven forty-five in the evening.

Chris had arrived home two hours ago and had done nothing but try to get his flat to look presentable.

When was the last time he slept here? Probably a few weeks ago… It was hard to be in his flat when everything reminded him of you. After all, he’d mostly stayed here when you did.

He honestly hadn’t spent as much time in this flat as he did after he started a relationship with you. He’d been living here for around three months before he went on that date with you. He used to only come here to sleep on his days off, and even those days he tried to spend them out of the flat as much as possible.

After he met you, though, every day off he had he either invited you over, or went to your place. Week by week, the place started filling up with your stuff as well as his. Things you left behind, things you brought on purpose, things he himself placed there, like that one picture you’d asked a stranger to take of you two by the lake in the park… The place was filled with your presence, and being here, on his own, only reminded him of that night in the theatre, of the fact that you weren’t here and what he’d done to you.

Thankfully, the place wasn’t too bad, it was mostly just dusty. Chris didn’t bother hiding anything of yours that was still on display. There was no point in that when his feelings were more than obvious after what happened last night.

So, fifteen minutes before the agreed time, his flat was clean, his hair was damp from the shower he’d just gotten out of, and food had been ordered. He was starving, and, since you had a tendency to not eat dinner because you got too overwhelmed sometimes, he figured ordering for you as well wouldn’t be too risky of a move. Worst case scenario, he’d just have extra left-overs tomorrow…

Seven fifty-two.

Chris looked at himself in his bathroom mirror. His hair was already starting to curl, there was a bit of a flush on his skin still from the hot shower, and he was second-guessing his outfit choice.

A cropped top he’d cut himself out of an old, oversized band t-shirt he’d thrifted, and shorts… Was it too casual? He hadn’t really thought much about what to wear, he had grabbed these on auto-pilot. Whenever you came over, it was usually just to relax and spend some time together, so it was a no-brainer for him to wear these two garments.

That was before, though… What if you came to his door looking like a goddess, all dressed up and he was like this? Would it matter? Would you mind? Three months ago, you wouldn’t have, but three months ago you were still together. Maybe things would be different now…

Seven fifty-eight.

What if you didn’t come? You did say ‘After eight’ before you left the Kim estate yesterday, but what if you changed your mind? It was a complicated situation, after all. Maybe too complicated. Why did he even invite you over? It would’ve probably been best to just meet at a café or a neutral place, why did he even suggest his home for this?

And, most importantly, what did he want from this encounter? Chris hadn’t even thought about it, and, honestly, he kind of didn’t want to think about it. He’d asked you yesterday to come here because he figured talking about whatever the fuck was going on would be the only way to get answers, to get this heavy feeling in his chest to go away, but he hadn’t thought ahead.

You were a mercenary that had tried to hurt Seungmin numerous times, he was risking everything by keeping quiet about your identity, by asking you to come here even knowing who you were. So why? Why would he do this?

The doorbell startled him.

Slightly panicked, he ruffled his hair and looked at himself in the mirror–admittedly, he’d been standing there the whole time, but he wasn’t really looking at anything…

It was too late now for an outfit change, too late to back down from this insanity he himself had started. So, he bolted to the door, and his heart almost leaped out of his chest when he looked through the peephole.

Once Chris opened the door, and came face to face with you, dressed in your comfy clothes, still pretty much looking like a goddess regardless of your outfit, he remembered the reason why he was risking it all. 

Because you made his heart rate spike. You made him feel again. After years of having seemingly nothing but a hole where his heart should’ve been, you had managed to defrost his insides with your warmth. 

“Hey…” You fiddled with the straps of the backpack you always brought along with you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other right where you stood.

“Hey”, Chris wasn’t really sure what to say, he just looked at you for a moment, and you looked right back at him.

Silence enveloped you two. You wouldn’t move, save for your fiddling, just like he wouldn’t, he remained frozen on the spot with the doorknob in his hand. Normally, he would’ve kissed you to greet you, but… should he do that? Was it appropriate? You did fuck last night, but that was a heat of the moment thing… Maybe you wouldn’t want him to kiss you at all.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the delivery guy popped up right behind you, startling the both of you. So Chris just asked you to come in, and quickly got his card from his wallet that he had discarded by the kitchen counter earlier to pay for the food.

“Have you eaten? I ordered some for you just in case…” Chris asked as soon as the guy was gone, just as he placed the food on the counter.

“No, I haven’t”, you replied simply, finally putting your backpack down on one of the chairs. “What’d you order?”

“Cantonese…” Chris didn’t look at you as he took the containers out of the bag, nor did he acknowledge the quiet ‘Oh…’ that came out of your mouth in response. “Wanna eat on the coffee table?”

“Of course”, you said it like it was an obvious thing, and, honestly, it kind of was. Whenever you both met for dinner, especially when it involved your favourite food, you’d always eat at the coffee table, why would it be any different this time? Not like three months had passed since you last spoke or anything…

While Chris brought the containers with food to the table, you got a couple of plates, two glasses, and the necessary cutlery. By the time you were at the table yourself, he had already gone to the fridge and taken the pineapple juice you both liked.

It was all so… normal. Normal, but like things had been placed slightly to the left. The motions were the same, the same routine you had as a couple, but there was something odd lingering between you two, and Chris figured it made sense, all things considered.

When he finally sat down next to you on the floor, with his back against the sofa, you were already serving the food. Chris busied himself pouring the juice, and in no time, you both had started eating. 

It was silent for a while. Well, save for the murmurs coming from the television after you had switched it on for some background noise. Reality was seemingly looming over your heads, or, at least, that was how it felt to Chris. Yet, none of you said anything, you both just ate your food.

It almost felt like an eternity, honestly–even though it’d been probably just shy of ten minutes since you sat down to eat. But, eventually, you took a deep breath, swallowed the food in your mouth, and finally spoke, reaching for your glass of juice.

“I’m sorry this is so awkward… I just don’t know what to say”, you took a sip of your drink, finally looking at him.

Immediately, Chris’ shoulders slumped, and he placed his plate on the table before he turned his body towards you. With an arm on the sofa, he propped his head on his hand while he looked at you. “Me neither, honestly”.

You took a deep breath, chewing your food slowly, deep in thought.

“I’m… I’m gonna be fully honest. I’m tired of secrets. Sick of ‘em. And I feel like you deserve better than that”, you placed your plate on the coffee table as well, and took a napkin to wipe your hands. “I’ll just… I’ll start from the beginning, okay?” 

Chris swallowed, nodding to let you know he was listening.

“It started with my dad…” You wouldn’t look at Chris, you just placed your arms on your bent knees and fixed your gaze on the table. “He joined the Guild when he was a teenager. It was tradition in his family, you see? His mum had been a member for years, so she taught him everything she knew. Eventually, he made a name for himself, and he actually managed to get quite high in the ranks… But then he met my mum”.

You took a deep breath, leaning your head back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “He fell deeply in love with her. To the point where he realised he wanted to have a peaceful life, so he retired and did just that. Certified himself as a PE teacher, of all things, and then they had me”.

“Problem was… my mum isn’t exactly a good woman. She wasn’t good to him, or me. When I was still a child, she took everything my dad had and left us both, ran away with some guy she’d met… She’s still with him, last I heard. Good for her, I guess”, you chuckled, a chuckle that lacked any semblance of humour. “After she left, my dad just… he went through a deep, deep depression, lost his job, we could barely make ends meet… That was when he decided to return to the Guild, and, of course, like his mum had done to him, he brought me along…”.

You spoke a lot from then on. How you were taught to fight, how your father passed on to you his stealth technique, which was your signature trait to this day, how many people you’d had to kill, kidnap, or extort. You kept a tally, apparently, which in Chris’ experience wasn’t an uncommon thing to do. He himself kept records of his own milestones, as gruesome as that might sound to some people. It always helped put things into perspective, in a way.

“Seungmin… He was just another target. I wasn’t even going to kill him. I try not to kill when I can. It’s too messy… But, I must admit, at some point I was trying to kill Chan”, you finally turned to look at him, and the pained look in your eyes must’ve been a perfect match to his own. “In all honesty, I’m glad I failed. You’re really good at what you do, you know? If you hadn’t been, I would’ve succeeded, and being honest, I don’t think I would’ve been able to continue going on with my life if I had killed the man I love”.

The man I love…

There you were again, using present tense. Was it stupid of him to feel hopeful about that?

Maybe it was.

Before Chris could say anything, though, you looked away again, straightening your head to reach for your plate of food. “What I told you last night… Dropping the job, in the eyes of the Guild, is a sign of weakness. We are supposed to carry out our tasks or die trying. The fact that it took me so long to do what I was hired to do, and the fact that I essentially gave up, it’s all enough for them to consider me a burden, so I’ll have to either prove my worth again, or they’ll just get rid of me”.

You said it so nonchalantly, like you had accepted this as your fate. And Chris honestly hated it.

“How long do you have to prove it?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I could either be given a super hard task soon, or they could’ve already decided I’m no longer worth their time and just try to kill me. I need to be wary now. You’ve got no idea all the trouble I had to go through just to make sure no one was following me when I was coming here”.

As the guard of Kim Seungmin, as Chan, there was a small spark of pride at the fact that he had managed to stop anyone from doing harm to Seungmin. But, as your boyfriend–ex-boyfriend…?–as Chris, there was also guilt pooling in his gut at the fact that you were now being targeted by your own people because of him.

How fucking convoluted this all was…

You remained silent after that, just slowly putting food into your mouth, chewing leisurely. Chris knew you were waiting for him to speak. You had bared your past to him, and it was now his turn to do the same. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to speak, he wanted to do it, he’d wanted to do it for months, way before the theatre situation, way before the Wraith came into his life, back when it was just you and him. But, even though the fact that he’d tried to kill you didn’t seem to have fully pushed you away from him, he was sure that what he was going to reveal to you now could potentially do so. As odd as that might sound…

Chris figured it was now or never. Everything was already complicated, the future of you two was already murky enough, so he took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly only to finally open them again when he started to speak.

“You remember I told you… about my brother and sister, right?” 

You nodded, focusing your entire attention on him.

Chris hadn’t disclosed much of his family or career to you, but he had told you about his siblings. Not in detail, but you were important enough to him that he wanted you to know, especially when sometimes he’d get texts or calls from either of them and he didn’t want you to get the wrong impression when you saw their contact names with hearts and random emojis next to them.

“We didn’t really… have much. Our father abandoned us right after my brother was born. He left my mum on her own to raise three children, one that wasn’t even a month old, while she was still recovering from her difficult pregnancy…” The memory always made him angry, his father embodied everything he ever hated in this world, and whenever Chris thought of him, he had to make the conscious effort to not give into this need of looking for him and give him the beating of his life, preferably kill him if he could… 

Chris shook his head, trying to once again ignore the thought altogether. “Anyway, mum worked really hard to keep us three fed and to give us proper education. She really did her best, and even if we didn’t have much we were at least somewhat pushing through. But…”

It was always hard to talk about these things. Chris hardly ever allowed himself to think of this period of his life. He much preferred to remember his mother as the loving, hardworking woman he knew her to be, but he wanted to tell you this, he needed you to know the whole context, so he kept talking.

“She was sick. We didn’t really know, one day she was seemingly fine and the next she was in a hospital bed, telling me it would all be fine…” It wasn’t fine, clearly. His mother had always been overly optimistic, and even back then he knew this was just her holding onto the foolish hope that she’d make it.

She didn’t.

The very next day, she had passed away, and Chris and his siblings had been entrusted to their uncle.

“It was all so sudden… Very quickly, we realised our uncle just wasn’t a good man. I put myself as the shield between him and my siblings, but even that wasn’t enough. I had to find a way for us to leave, I couldn’t just let my brother and sister live with this guy, it wasn’t safe”, Chris tapped his fingers on his thigh, looking at the only picture of him and his younger siblings he had placed on one of the shelves close to the television.

After a few moments of silence to gather his thoughts, he took a deep breath and started talking again. “I was sixteen, what can a sixteen year old boy do? It was so frustrating, and I was incredibly desperate, so I…” Fuck, this was much harder than he expected it to be, but he swallowed regardless, pushing away the little voice in the back of his mind that urged him to shut up. “Back then, all I had was my charm and my body, you know? So I used just that”.

There were a lot of cruel, disgusting people in this world. People that didn’t even stop to ask how old he was, people who could clearly tell how old he was but weren’t put off by it–on the contrary, those were usually turned on by that fact.

For many years, Chris sold himself to other people. He became whoever they wanted him to become for a few hours, and eventually got himself enough regulars to financially support his siblings and himself. He managed to keep the three of them well fed and studying. 

Only problem was, the psychological toll such a profession took on him was almost immeasurable. It was hard to remain empathetic towards other people when he’d had to constantly experience physical and emotional abuse, when he had to do things he just didn’t want to do every single night. But he had to. For the sake of his siblings and himself, he just had to.

You didn’t seem at all surprised by what Chris was telling you, but he could see the look of disgust on your face. Knowing you, his logical mind told him it had all to do with his clients, with the situation, not with himself. But, there was a small part of him–a very self-destructive part of him–that was sure you’d be disgusted at him. After all, you’d been physically involved with someone who was nothing but a whore for a good chunk of his life, with no knowledge of the fact.

Chris swallowed. His mouth was suddenly dry after telling you all this, so he reached for his glass of juice and drank some to quench that nervous thirst. All while you looked at him, clearly deep in your thoughts.

“Mmm… So that’s why you’d been so insistent on me getting that STD test when we were talking about dropping condoms… Why you were so sure you were clean yourself”, you said simply, just as he was placing his glass back on the table. “Not gonna lie, I found it odd back then, considering most guys don’t really think about that stuff, they just want to get it wet”.

“Yep. I always made sure to be careful and keep that in check. I couldn’t afford to catch something dangerous. Who would take care of my brother and sister then?”

You hummed in understanding, but you didn’t really say anything else, and suddenly looking at your face was too much…

“Honestly, I almost never had unprotected sex with any of my clients, but whenever I did, I was super insistent on this, and old habits die hard, I suppose…” Chris picked at some loose threads of the rug under the coffee table, and he swallowed, avoiding your eyes before he braced himself for what he was about to say. “I’m… By the time I met you, I was no longer an escort, obviously. But you… That night with you after our first date was the first time I was able to actually enjoy sex in a long, long time. It was all just so… intimate. The fact that sex could feel like that… I don’t know, it absolutely blew my mind”.

Chris went silent after that. His fidgeting increased considerably, and very quickly, he realised he was nervous. Even before the whole theatre situation, he’d always been more scared to tell you about this part of his past than his current job. He’d always considered telling you about the Kims, about what he did, but whenever he thought about telling you what he used to do for a living, his mind would always convince him you’d just see him differently, and losing you was something he just couldn’t afford.

Maybe it was silly of him, considering killing people for a living was probably way more morally incorrect than having sex for money, but unlike the former, the latter was something he never truly found pride in. On the contrary, he was ashamed of it.

All of a sudden, Chris felt your hand on his knee, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the movement of your thumb against his skin. It wasn’t until you muttered a soft ‘Hey…’ that he finally pulled his eyes away to look at you instead.

“I hope you know I don’t… I don’t think any differently of you because of your past. You did what you had to do to survive, and that’s completely respectable”, you squeezed his knee a bit, almost reassuringly, and for a moment, Chris feared he was going to cry. “Even knowing what you do now… I get it. I truly do. I’m totally no one to judge, all things considered”.

Once again, you’d shown him why he had fallen in love with you in the first place. And, once again, he couldn’t help but feel that the world was just so unfair.

Out of all people in this whole wide world, why did it have to be you under the kerchief that night…

Chris took a deep breath, looking away from your face to your hand on his knee. Warm, familiar… Your touch seemed to shoot straight to his heart. Without thinking much about it, he placed his hand on top of yours, and held it firmly, as if you would disappear if he let go.

He wanted to tell you more. He didn’t just want to leave it at that, he wanted you to know everything, he needed you to know. So, after a few moments of silence, he started talking again.

“How I transitioned from what I did to working with the Kims was a very circumstantial thing… Turns out one of my clients had business with them. Problem was, he was trying to scam them, which, in retrospect, was very stupid on his part”, he had found himself tangled in this guy’s mess, he was setting Chris up to take the blame, and as soon as he realised that, he immediately ratted the guy out to the Kims.

In doing so, they had offered him not only protection, but also a different career path. 

“They found me a mentor, trained me, all while I was still pretending to be this guy’s fucktoy. And, eventually, when the Kims got what they wanted from him, I got to kill him”, even as he said it, Chris knew a normal person would’ve felt some remorse when telling this story. But he didn’t.

Very quickly after that, he realised that killing, torturing people, deceiving them, were much more dignified ways of using his body and his skills, which was exactly what he told you.

“To me, it feels like the Kims gave me my individuality back. I do what I do because I like it, because I am grateful for what the Kims did for me, and because I feel proud of it, as twisted as that might sound…” Somehow, Chris knew you would understand the feeling, considering what you did for a living yourself. “I’m able to provide for my brother and sister by doing something I can find pride in. I love my team, they’re like family to me as well, but I suppose all these things I learnt throughout the years ended up making me a bit… cold”.

“Oh, I know all about that…” You mumbled, with a small smile on your lips.

Chris chuckled at that, maybe a bit incredulously.

He looked at your face in silence for a moment. There was no judgement in your eyes, and the soft caresses of your thumb on his hand had his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Seriously, though…” Chris said after a while. “When you appeared in my life, I was reminded of how it was like to feel normal. I feel like I’m a bit more human”.

“It’s a very mutual feeling, you know?”

Chris remained silent, looking at you, until your words registered fully, and he offered you a nod. Somehow, what you said had heat pooling on his cheeks, and he looked away from your face to stare at your joined hands.

“I was even… Before it all went down, I was genuinely considering retirement”, taking a deep breath, you brought your free hand to hold his hand between your palms. “I should’ve told you what I did for a living. Maybe this whole thing could’ve been avoided if I had, but I was afraid you’d just… leave”.

“I wouldn’t have”, Chris replied before he could think twice about it, but with the words out there, he realised he meant them. How could he leave? You were just like him, after all.

“I know that now”, your hands were so warm, so familiar… 

“Come here…” Wrapping an arm around your waist, and taking a hold of your thigh, Chris guided your body to move, until you settled on his lap. 

Your hands immediately found his face, just as his arms wrapped around your waist. You looked him in the eyes, in a way that made him feel exposed, like you were reaching deep within his mind and soul. He realised then that he wanted to be exposed. He didn’t want any more secrets or half-truths, you were already his weak spot, so might as well let you fully in. 

“You’re so handsome”, you said all of a sudden, with a bright smile on your lips, and Chris immediately chuckled, looking away and shaking his head. “Don’t laugh! You are”. 

“You want me to blush? ‘Cause it’s working, baby”, Chris tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. With the same motion, he found your earlobe, and he caressed the skin while his other arm was firmly around your waist. 

“Maybe I do want that. It’s my only ulterior motive”, you chuckled, tracing patterns on his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Mmm… Is that so?” Chris supposed this was your way of confirming to him that you, in fact, didn’t have any ulterior motive. He also supposed he could do nothing else but believe you, to trust you.

“Mm”, you leaned in, leaving a tender kiss on his forehead before you pulled back to look him in the eyes again. “It is”.

The warmth of your palms, the soft drag of your thumbs on Chris’ skin, your weight on his lap… All combined had Chris closing his eyes, it had him leaning into your touch, and even questioning if this was a real thing that was happening, if you were truly there. You were. Logically, he knew you were, but it was hard for his brain to catch up with the fact after spending so long doing nothing but yearning for you.

There was a sigh, a sound of relief that further anchored Chris to reality when it came out of your mouth. 

“You, too, make me feel alive. These past couple of months… I’ve just missed you so, so much, Christopher”, your voice was so quiet, it was steady, but Chris could’ve sworn he felt your hold tremble on his face. He didn’t dare open his eyes, just took a deep breath and brought one of his hands to lay on top of one of yours on his face. “I know it’s… weird. All of this. It’s weird and complicated and there’s a lot we’d have to work on, but I… I don’t want to lose you. I can’t”.

Chris could feel your words reach deep within him. They might’ve sparked some doubts, maybe even a bit of anxiety at the prospect of facing the results of both of your actions, but… they also warmed him up from the inside out. 

He figured that, if there had ever been anything worth protecting, what you both had was one of those things, no matter how difficult it could be. And right then, when he finally opened his eyes and looked at your face, he wholeheartedly believed it was possible.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Chris nodded. With a hand on the back of your head, he pulled you closer to him, close so he could press his lips to yours, and the soft whimper that escaped your mouth was enough to make him want to cry right then and there.

Your hands left his face so you could wrap your arms around his neck. With his arms around your waist, he pulled you further into his lap, chest against chest sharing one breath. Your words kept resonating in his ears ‘missed you so, so much…�� Added to the feel of your tongue against his own, to your hand playing with his hair, he was sure his heart was about to burst.

You kissed for a while. Slowly savouring the feel of one another, almost like you both wanted to catch up on all those kisses missed in the past three months. Quiet moans slipped between your lips, his hands roamed your back, confirming that this was, in fact, very real. Even more so when your hips started to roll, grinding against him when his hands settled to squeeze your backside and your thighs.

“Missed you, too”, Chris breathlessly mumbled against your lips, taking a tight hold of your hips to guide your movement. You just nodded and kept kissing him, more frantically this time, and all he could do was match your pace, in hopes to convey just how much he had truly missed you.

His mind fogged up. There was nothing but you, and you, and you… He didn’t want for there to be anything else. Before he knew it, articles of clothing started to be removed and dropped on the sofa behind him, until skin was touching skin and even the minimal distance between your bodies felt like it was just too much. 

Chris needed you closer, as close as you possibly could be, and in his haze, he’d found himself kissing down your body while you laid on his rug. Slowly, he left kisses on your cheek, your neck, between your breasts–where he took a brief pause just so he could be smothered by them for a bit before he continued his path…

With your legs over his shoulders, with his mouth at the apex of your thighs, Chris couldn’t help but groan at the familiar, undeniable taste of you. Oh, how he’d missed this, too… Your hand gripping his hair, and his own roaming the softest areas of your body while he got to drink you up, was absolutely how he’d been dreaming to be, especially when you started making the prettiest noises, those that made his chest swell with pride and satisfaction.

He supposed it was more than fair. You’d gotten your taste of him last night, and it was now his turn.

Your words of encouragement, your sighs of his name, and the quiet sounds coming out of your mouth made his head spin. How had he even survived all these weeks without this? Without you? 

As he fixated on gently sucking on that sensitive nub between your legs, as your thighs started to shake a bit around his head, Chris just felt lucky. As unfortunate as this whole thing had been, he had to cherish this second chance. There was a lot to talk about, a lot more truths to tell to each other, but all that could wait. Until later or tomorrow or the day after… It could all wait.

Right now, all that mattered was to feel. 

For him to feel you, for you to feel him, and for both to just satiate the burning need for each other.

Getting you to come with just his mouth and his fingers was certainly one of his favourite things in this world. Hearing you gasp and moan his name made him lightheaded, filled him to the brim with arousal and love… Especially so when your legs trapped him right there, when he got to pin you down by the hips so you couldn’t pull away from him while he continued to drink up your essence.

Your body slumped a bit when Chris finally found his way up your body. As soon as he was within reach, you simply pulled him down to you with a firm grip on his hair, sealing your mouths in a slow kiss, uncaring of your taste on his tongue, his lips, or even his chin when you started to leave kisses all over his face.

Chris gave you time to catch your breath. However, when he told you he was doing just that, in that teasing tone that he knew would just rile you up, you just chuckled and told him it was difficult to do so when his lips so deliciously gave attention to your neck.

“What? Want me to stop?” He couldn’t help but chuckle as well, leaving lingering kisses on your skin.

“As if”, was all you mumbled back when you hugged him close and buried your hand in his hair to keep him right there.

After a couple of minutes where Chris just got to place his lips on every centimetre of skin they could find, you pulled him by his hair in that enticing way you always did, and brought him close to you once again, muttering his absolute favourite combination of words you could ever say.

“Fuck me”.

Gladly. 

Chris was hard, leaking pre-cum, needy in ways that only you had ever made him feel. There was not an ounce of restraint in his body tonight, no wish to tease or delay the inevitable. There’d be time for that in the future. Or so he hoped.

So when he finally pushed himself into your sopping warmth, when he started that slow, but precise pace of his hips that he knew you enjoyed so much, he was dead set on diving fully into it, into you. Just like he’d done countless times prior to that night in the theatre.

“I love you”, Chris mumbled in your ear, and even before he said it, he had already started to feel his eyes water.

“I love you”, you mumbled back, further digging your nails on his back, tightening the hold of your legs around his torso. “With my whole heart”.

Your words coming out as a shaky whisper were enough to shatter the remaining protective layer around his heart. He could feel himself tremble, and even though he saw the tears running down your cheeks when he kissed you again, he hadn’t really needed to do it to know they were there. Just like he was sure you hadn’t needed to see his to know, too.

Chris had almost forgotten how it was like to sleep with you–in the literal sense of the word.

Your warmth, the way you clung to him sometimes in the middle of the night, how you’d wake him up when he was about to choke on his spit… It was all so, so familiar, it was comforting, and last night, even if you both had gone to sleep late after a couple more mind-numbing orgasms, after finishing your food, and after even more cuddles and deep emotional talks, this had probably been the best he’d slept in weeks.

Which was why, when he turned to drape an arm around your waist because he just needed to pull you closer to him, he almost got whiplash from the feeling of the cold sheets under his hand.

Chris’ eyes snapped open to find your side of the bed empty. Why was it so cold? Had you just left? When did you leave? Had you woken up today filled with regret? Had you decided that trying to work things out was actually too complicated and not worth your time?

Chris’ heart was beating fast in his chest, and just before he flung himself from the bed in a panic to see if the things you brought last night were still in the flat, he heard a sound. It was quiet, but he definitely heard it, and that feeling of panic was quickly changing to one of dangerous hope.

He didn’t even bother putting clothes on, just stood up and walked all the way to his bedroom’s door. As soon as it was opened, he could hear things more clearly. 

Music.

Very low, but it was certainly playing somewhere down the hall.

He could hear the sound of a spatula against metal, as well as the crackling of oil, and the unmistakable hum of the airfryer.

“Morning, sleepy bear”, you said as he stepped into the kitchen, not even turning to look at him. Chris had light steps, but he supposed it made sense that you of all people were more than capable of hearing him walking closer. “M’making some eggs and bacon”.

Chris couldn’t help the small smile that came to his lips. He walked into your space, and wrapped his arms around your waist to hug you from behind. “So, the only things that were in the fridge”.

“Basically. You should really go grocery shopping. How are you gonna have energy for work if you don’t eat proper meals, hm? Who’s gonna protect Seungmin then?” There was a hint of a smile in your voice, and it only made Chris’ own smile widen.

It was odd to hear you talk about his job, especially so… neutrally. Resting his chin on your shoulder, Chris watched you carefully and methodically cook the eggs, and he couldn’t help but tighten his hold around your waist.

There was a moment of silence as you placed the two perfectly fried eggs on a plate, next to the already cooked ones. The airfryer timer went off, you switched off the stove, but you remained standing there in Chris’ hug.

One of your hands came to his arms, and you started to softly caress his skin. “Baby… I don’t wanna get you into trouble, you know?”

Chris knew. Being with you would definitely get him into trouble if the Kims found out who you were. He was aware of this, there was no way he wouldn’t be. “I know, love”.

“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t… don’t really know what to do. How to fix that. I can’t let them hurt you because of me”.

Taking a deep breath, Chris let go of your waist to take a hold of your shoulders instead. With a gentle grip, he coaxed you to turn around so he could cup your cheeks in his hands. “We’ll figure something out. About the Kims, about the Guild… We’ll just… figure it out”.

You swallowed, but a small smile found its way to your lips. “Why do I get the feeling that this is gonna be some ‘you and me against the world’ bullshit?”

“Because it is”, Chris chuckled, squishing your cheeks, making your lips jut out into a pout. “It’s you and me, bun. We might need to improvise a bit, walk around the truth, but I have hope that we can find a solution to this”.

He pecked your lips briefly, and his hold on your cheeks relented.

You immediately looped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you just as his hands found the small of your back. “I suppose we can put our two scheming brain cells together to think of something. I must say… doesn’t seem that difficult of a task when you’re here with me”.

Chris agreed completely. As long as he had you there, with him, it didn’t seem a difficult thing to achieve. Either getting the Guild to trust you again, or for you to defect, or even getting him to come clean to at least Seungmin, or keep you a secret, or for both of you to disappear completely, maybe leave the country and get new identities… It didn’t matter what course of action you both decided to take. 

As long as you got to be together, happy, and in love, it just didn’t matter.

Even when he leaned in to press a kiss on your lips, when he hugged you close, Chris held onto that possibly foolish hope that everything would be okay. That you both would, in fact, figure it all out.

tagging (people from my taglist + people that asked to be tagged in this part 2 specifically):

@comet-falls · @princelingperfect · @iadorethemskz · @kileidoscope · @maknae00 · @dundullresident · @vitrealisbunny · @yeetfellx · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @oiminho · @binchangf · @luxsonny · @mamieishere · @straylightdream · @bintificreads · @seo--changbin · @ppiri-bahng · @letsbangchanblog · @fun-fanfics · @armystay89 · @iightsung · @noellllslut · @100layersofdaddyissues · @toplinehyunjin · @biribarabiribbaem · @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad · @stayconnecteed · @floatingcoffecup · @5starlee · @ven-fic-recs · @poutypoutybin · @straydhampir · @svintsandghosts · @kim-hao-han · @brownriceocean · @kpopsstuffs · @crisle19 · @drhsthl

If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form. you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

General Masterlist

[frostyreturns]

Reddit mods are like You guys don't understand how hard and thankless this volunteer job is. Good so stop doing it then idiot. Why the fuck are you putting in work that nobody pays you for? They make it sound like they're feeding the hungry but they're just making the internet less fun. The "work" you do is trying to be the internets mommy, the pay you get out of it is feeling like a bigshot for policing what people can say on the internet. You're that weasel kid from that cartoon Recess that was always ratting people out... except you need the additional protection of doing your tattling digitally and anonymously.

"Without me it would be anarchy you would (checks notes) have to briefly see posts you don't care about or disagree with" Reddit is literally designed so that stuff people don't like is pushed to the bottom where its not seen so by definition by moderating and deleting things beyond that you are trying to prevent it from being the experience people want it to be.

The only reddit I ever looked at was for hockey team news and the gay ass mods were always banning people for smack talk and posting blubbery messages about being nice to fans of other teams and I'm like...do you guys not understand the point of sports.

Theyll go on and on about don't use the downvote button to disagree with people and then will downvote and delte anything they disagree with. Fuck reddit mods I hope they all quit forever they're the worst kind of people in the world.

[annefolklore]

Suhyeok x reader Headcanons

Warning: nsfw content at some point

HE IS OBSESSED WITH YOU

He would literally do anything for you

He IS literally the definition of charisma and he knows it damn well

His love language is physical touch

I just know that guy is rich, I mean look at him!

He smells REALLY good

He has a really good hygiene, especially with his feet. People just like teasing him about never wearing socs and saying that his feet smells, but it’s not true and everyone knows it.

He hates when someone reminds him of the shitty things he did in the past

he often makes you blush on purpose

He has a workout routine and has a workout kit at home

He knows how to play basketball and American football, but definitely prefers the first one. He just loves sports in general, from artistic sports to contact sports he must try them all!

I think he likes cheerleaders. Base? Flyer? Backspot? Frontspot? Competitive? Sideline? All girl? COED? He doesn’t care, as long as he sees you in that uniform doing that sport. If not, he likes them shy, nerdy, quiet you know?

He absolutely HATES coffee. Its smell, taste, even the coffee beans. No matter how much milk or sugar you pour in it, you’ll never catch him drinking that. Just seeing caffeine disgust him.

Suhyeok loves caramel! He always has some pieces in his pockets and he try to share with you, but you always decline. There’s something in his eyes that says “I hope you say no, so there’s more for me” and it just warm your heart when you see him smile as he opens the wrapper and stuffs the sweet into his mouth.

He is very romantic, so be prepared

He has a dog, a Siberian husky, because it’s an athletic race. He really loves his dog, like when he goes on a walk with it, he often ends up in a pet store buying clothes, accessories, toys, food or just supplies in general for the dog. He referred to it as his child.

He sleeps on his back with an arm over his head, while the other is on your back, massaging it. He really likes cuddling.

He has an habit of always running his hand through his hair, but somehow it doesn’t mess them up.

He is an ass guy

His favorite positions are leap frog because he gets a great view of your butt, cowgirls ( both reverse and facing him) and 69. Giving you head while you’re on top if him getting him off sloppy and slow is sooo hot to him.

Hair pulling kink

If you like being choked, he would hesitate at first, but after a lot of insisting, he did it. Now, you don’t even have to request it, because he does it on his own. Like, y’all could be in a missionary position and he just wraps your neck with his fingers and choke you(not to death obviously). It drives him crazy to see you roll your eyes and smile when he does that. You managed to make him have a new kink and maybe he could let you do it to him someday.

HE LOVES ORAL, he thinks it’s really important during intercourse. If you don’t like giving head tho, it’s not a problem, he loves giving it to you.

“I really need a snack” he said one time in class during a team work with you, his eyes full of lust. You will always remember that recess afterwards…

He just loves giving you pleasure in general

He is SO bad in arts and he attempts to draw most of the time only to see and hear you laugh

Y’all went to a private pottery class one time. Let’s just say, that man can be BOLD when he wants to.

—————————

I think I’m getting good at this! What do y’all think?

[livgr3]

Roundtable: Glee (2009-2015)

Oh dear. Where to even begin....

What we now know and love (or hate) as Glee began as a screenplay for a feature film of the same name by Ian Brennan. The screenplay then circulated to working TV writers Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk, and the three soon began writing a full television season based on Brennan's original screenplay. The series was very quickly picked up by FOX, following the success of another musical-themed program: American Idol.

So has been said about Glee in retrospect, from recent TikToks dissecting problematic moments in the show to a docuseries addressing speculations of dissent among castmates. While this has been interesting fodder to engage with online, I do feel that we have reached a collective memory of Glee that has strayed from the original tone and intention of the show. This is also thanks to the complete diversion the show took in its later seasons after new writers were hired and the show tried to keep up with its own rapidly growing popularity.

Glee’s initial charm was similar to the central appeal of American Idol: a glimmer of hope in a  time of economic hardship through an underdog story. Underneath its surface-level wackiness and off-kilter dialogue, Glee was intended to be a tongue-in-cheek satire;  a "postmodern musical" in the words of Ryan Murphy. Based in Ohio, its characters grapple with the ongoing economic recession and try to find hope and resilience in their downtrodden circumstances through the imaginative powers of the songs they sing. The show’s humor and central conflicts in its first season are largely derived from disputes from the “big guys” punching down on the “little guys.” In fact, the rivalry between optimistic Glee Club instructor Will Schuester and absolutely unhinged cheer coach Sue Sylvester can be read alongside the country’s broader economic battles. 

The mention of these two crucial characters brings me to an analysis of the show in conversation with the arguments of Robynn Stillwell in her work “Dual-Focus Strategy in a Serial Narrative: Smash, Nashville, and the Television Musical Series.” For this analysis I will refer to the first and last episodes of Glee’s first season, titled “Pilot” and “Jouney to Regionals,” respectively, pulling some contextual elements from episodes in-between if needed.

Dual-Focus Narrative

A defining stylistic feature of an episode of Glee is its introductory monologue, in which a character provides a voiceover of their unique, hilarious perspectives on the events of the episode to come. Throughout the episode, other characters might also provide a voiceover monologue with contradictory opinions, or introduce the episode’s B-plot. It is through these little snippets of each character’s perspective that the show manages its large ensemble cast and creates an advanced version of Stillwell’s described “dual-focus” narrative, with a different dual pairing each episode. This ability to navigate the complex relationships between many characters is something that is unique to Glee’s episodic format, and likely could not be achieved in its fullest in a film or stage musical. 

While the show’s “Pilot” sets up the central romances between Finn & Rachel and Will & Emma, these romantic pairings do not completely comprise the “dual-focus” of the episode. Instead, we are given voiceover sequences from Will Schuester, Rachel, and Finn such that the show is dually-focused on the lives of adults versus teenagers in a middle-American high school during the economic recession. In this way, Glee pokes fun at the triviality of high school popularity while also likening these struggles to the conflicts among the adult characters, such as budget cuts to faculty but an increased budget for athletics and Sue’s cheer team. In other words, the concept of an "underdog" is timeless and not age-specific. Through its strange satirical lens, Glee celebrates youth and is reliant on the notion of second-chances, evident though the name Will Schuester gives to his new Glee Club: New Directions.

Inevitable Couplings

In my opinion, the pilot of Glee has an absolutely top-tier set up for its romantic interests, the jock Finn Wolfhard and the geeky theater girl Rachel Berry. The show takes advantage of its musical framework, two characters are set up as opposites through their first ever songs before they even interact in the episode. 

To audition for Will’s New Directions, Rachel sings “On My Own,” a musical theater song from Lesa Miserables. She introduces her song with a chipper, contrived introduction and her audition is polished with a clear, classically trained voice. Moments later, Finn’s voice is heard in a much less formal manner, as Will hears him singing in the shower (not even gonna touch that one). His voice is free and imperfect, singing a classic rock song he adored as a child. Through these musical scenes, Rachel and Finn are contrasted in every way, from their personalities to their apparent levels of vocal training to their style of song. The show relies on our instincts to assume that opposites attract without any lines explicitly hinting at the romance with these two characters, so when the two sing together in “Don’t Stop Believing” at the end of the episode (which literally made me cry), their voices complement one another well and there is palpable chemistry as the characters dance together gleefully.

I would also be remiss if I did not mention “Klaine,” the iconic romance between Kurt and Blaine that begins in season two. The show sets this romance up in a very similar way, as Kurt admires Blaine’s suave confidence in an accepting environment which contrasts the homophobic environment Kurt experiences at McKinley High. They are, again, musically opposite, as Blaine often sings pop songs with an entire Glee club of boys while Kurt often sings musical theater ballads alone. Still, these opposites are not as apparent as Finn and Rachel’s, and the show now expects us to anticipate a romance based heavily on the fact that these are the only two gay male characters in the show thus far. While this romance was quite groundbreaking for its time, the show was still able to maintain its mainstream popularity by applying heteronormative frameworks onto queer characters, much like the Western musical frameworks we discussed last week.

Musical Fantasies

Music is the heart of Glee, adding texture to an otherwise dull environment. As the show progresses musical numbers take many adventurous forms, with numbers outside the diegesis that replicate famous music videos to conversations through song that blur the lines of diegesis.  

Even with all the flashiest numbers, I think nothing embodies the escapist quality of music in Glee more than its backstage numbers, where we watch the characters perform as their true selves. At the end of the Pilot, the original six Glee Club members perform “Don’t Stop Believin’” on their own after news of Mr. Schue’s departure from the position. Their singing and dancing is free and uninhibited as much of the secondary characters watch. Most importantly, the number inspires a lurking Mr. Schue to change his mind and continue instructing the club. Music functions within the narrative as a site of hope for characters in unfortunate situations.

Through this, the show also epitomizes its sense of neoliberal progressivism, ultimately suggesting that we can all come together and sing away our differences.

[natlacentral]

How Kiawentiio went from a ‘little arty kid’ to the star of Avatar: The Last Airbender

You know that classic actor’s arc, painstakingly building from bit parts to bigger roles, withstanding rejection and despair? Yeah, that’s not Kiawentiio’s story. The Mohawk Canadian actor was cast in the first thing she auditioned for, the hit CBC/Netflix series Anne with an E. Her next role was the title character in Tracey Deer’s wrenching, semi-autobiographical film Beans, followed by a gig on Rutherford Falls. And now she’s the second lead in a gigantic Netflix series, Avatar: The Last Airbender, a live-action reimagining of the beloved animated series (2005-08), shot mostly in British Columbia, arriving Feb. 22. And she’s only 17.

We meet via video call, and even on that flattening medium, Kiawentiio sparkles. (Professionally, she goes by that mononym, pronounced Guy-a-wen-di-jou.) She’s poised and friendly, without any child-actor posing. Now and again she glances over her shoulder into a corner I can’t see; turns out her mother is there for backup.

Her Anne with an E audition was a lark – or as Kiawentiio puts it, “It came out of nowhere and happened randomly.” Growing up on the Akwesasne reserve on Kawehno:ke (also known as Cornwall Island), which straddles the Ontario/New York State border, she was “the little arty kid in the corner, who stayed inside at recess to paint and draw,” and dreamed of going to art school. Her dad chanced upon an open casting call on Facebook, and they thought, might as well try it. She was the last audition of the day.

Landing Avatar: The Last Airbender, by contrast, required more of a campaign. As a kid, Kiawentiio loved the animated series – its environmental and spiritual themes, its thoughtful depictions of Asian and Indigenous cultures, the battle scenes of Benders wielding the four elements, “the character arcs, the sheer craftsmanship. It would fill me.”

So when she heard rumours a few years ago about a live-action reboot, she had a feeling she’d be right for Katara, 14, a novice Waterbender, the last in her Southern Water Tribe, traumatized by the world war being waged by the Fire Nation, yet undaunted and hopeful. Teaming up with Aang, the title character (played in the series by Gordon Cormier), she begins to realize her potential. Kiawentiio asked her agents to keep an eye out, “just in case the universe is listening.”

The audition, when it came, was veiled in secrecy – fake project and character names, disguised scenes, all via Zoom. After a month-long series of “adrenalin-pumping” chemistry reads with other actors, showrunner Albert Kim delivered the news: Yes, it was Airbender; yes, they’d been searching the world for their Katara; and yes, it was her. She and her family burst into tears.

With her co-stars, Kiawentiio spent six weeks at “bending boot camp,” where each learned the martial art their movements are based on: wushu for Firebending, tai chi for Waterbending, Hung Ga for Earthbending and Bagua for Airbending. They shot on a cutting-edge mix of green screens, practical sets – Kyoshi Village was built in a working quarry in Coquitlam, B.C.; Jet’s hideout was filmed at WildPlay, a ziplining park in Maple Ridge, B.C. – and volume stages, including the world’s largest LED video wall studio, a near-circle lined with 2,500 LED wall panels and 760 LED ceiling panels, at Canadian Motion Picture Park in Burnaby, B.C.

“That stage was warm,” Kiawentiio says, laughing. “Wearing Katara’s big blue parka, pretending to be in the Arctic while being in a microwave.” Watching the animated series come to life was “surreal,” she continues. “When you see Appa in front of you” – a flying beast that combines bison, hippo and manatee – “or even small things like my necklace – I remember being almost in tears.”

Canada’s Paul Sun-Hyung Lee (Kim’s Convenience) plays Iroh, brother to Fire Lord Ozai (Daniel Dae Kim); the actors playing Katara’s parents, Rainbow Dickerson and Joel Montgrand, also played Kiawentiio’s parents in Beans. But she didn’t get to hang out much – “I was in high school at the time, just trying to get through 11th grade,” she says. “Fun fact, I’ve never been to a first day of high school with my classmates. Every year I was doing something, travelling somewhere.” Now graduated, with a five-year option for possible future seasons, “I’m saving my next few years for the show and whatever else may come from it. But I plan on going to school in the future.”

Each of the four Airbender nations has real-world roots, including Omashu, Himalayan, Indonesian and Indigenous Arctic cultures; cultural consultants advised on folklore, history and mythology, as well as costumes, calligraphy and artifacts; and the series’ four directors are of Asian descent. That mattered, Kiawentiio says: “It’s 100-per-cent important to me that I represent where I come from, my people and my language. That comes with me to every character I portray.”

Her opportunity to embody authentic Indigenous characters has never been higher, as a spate of recent series attest: Reservation Dogs, Little Bird, Echo, True Detective: Night Country, the Yellowstone franchise. Lily Gladstone could well become the first Indigenous woman to win a Best Actress Oscar, for Killers of the Flower Moon. And Deer, Kiawentiio’s Beans director was an excellent role model: “Being able to see her be the leader, be so strong, opened my eyes to other things I can explore – directing, producing.”

But she doesn’t want portraying Indigenous characters to become its own kind of limit. “Those roles will always be at my root; they are what I can see myself in and relate to. That doesn’t have to be the end of what we’re capable of, though. We don’t have to just play the Indian friend, the Native guy. We can be just that doctor or teacher or lawyer, those regular roles. The days of just getting a role, and not The Native role, are still ahead of us.”

Now that Kiawentiio’s accidental career is skyrocketing, “it’s funny how weirdly normal it gets,” she says. “I understand how people can lose their groundedness. You’re in the air so much, how do you stay grounded? It’s helpful to keep my real life separate, with my family and friends, and have my work self be almost a persona.”

She’s always had a readable face, she realizes. “I can’t hide anything; it’s all in my eyes. But to be able to be in control of that to portray someone else is so interesting. My dad told me he’s never seen me light up the way I do when I’m on a set. That’s when I knew I should stick with it.”

[karume-everything-else]

𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝚒𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝙼𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚣𝚘 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚊 (𝙼𝙿𝟷𝟶𝟶) 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑����𝚖 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕. 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 "𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛'𝚜" 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝙵𝚎𝚖! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝙵 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 🤔

I just typically don't mention gender or describe Reader if it doesn't affect the story... it's just part of my writing style, though that can be fixed.

Today was going to be very strange, both of the tennis teams were practicing together with the fitness club. The fitness club wanted to join just to get some cardio in for the day, but the tennis teams had games over the weekend. This much practice was a good thing, but Momozo was having a hard time pushing everyone else's thoughts.

Knowing what the other person was going to do ahead of time was nice, but the fitness club had such wild thoughts. It really threw him off his game. Especially when his own girlfriend was so close.

Being around so many bulky guys, and the boy's tennis team had you feeling a little nervous. While you mostly played singles matches, doubles were the most efficient way to practice this afternoon. Unfortunately, that also meant merging with the boy's team for you.

On the bright side, you were paired with Momozo. Which didn't help the usually calm dude in the slightest.

The one mind he couldn't read clearly, even with his advanced psychokinesis. It was a huge part of why he liked you so much to begin with. Actually being able to enjoy quiet time with you instead of having to mentally yell at you.

Though, his mental projection worked too well for his taste. At least when it came to you.

Having seen you walk up to him like that and just quietly ask if he thought you were cute, just out of the blue in the middle of recess. It had him shaking and asking if you had psychic powers too.

Thankfully, and oddly, you didn't. But that still meant you had a strange mental block that prevented him from reading your mind while simultaneously hearing his thoughts loud and clear. No one had any kind of explanation for it, that's just the way things were.

Sitting on the bench, Momozo wasn't fully prepared to hear someone ask about you. Much less Mob.

"Hey, so... how is it that you and that girl work so well together?" Mob fidgeted with the end of the school's racket, "Are you using your powers for that?"

Momozo scratched the back of his head, "Well... yes and no. She, uh... I can't read her thoughts too clearly but she can hear my thoughts even when I'm not forcibly projecting them. Its kinda weird and not intentional. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought it was odd. Since the tennis teams are split and all, its really cool how in sync you are." Mob looked right at you, thinking about something else, "That and I've seen you two around the school. Is she nice?"

He could only nod, "Yeah, she's very nice. And funny."

Mob just barely raised an eyebrow at Momozo, "Are you two good friends then?"

"We're dating. Actually."

"Oh. That makes more sense than."

You walked back over from the vending machine. Knowing that you wouldn't get any more practice in until everyone on the tennis team had a turn. Which only left the bowl-cut boy Momozo was talking to and you didn't know who he would practice against. Not when everyone else in the fitness club paired off.

Unless he was going to switch in at some point. That was always an option. Until then, the three of you would just sit and make small talk with the rest of the tennis team and fitness club. Though most the people on the bench were boys who you didn't k ow very well at all.

Keeping to yourself and your hobbies like this was really making a dip in your social life, but Momozo was already making plans to go on a hike after the season ended. Maybe you'd see about tagging along, make a few more friends yourself.

[americanbrightside]

So I have two major issues with this argument, that Ward is less empathetic than Worm.

The first is the classic WB issue that Taylor is a more naive narrator than Victoria, and we see the world almost exclusively through their eyes. However, the narrative itself has its own morality, which characters get treated well or poorly, etc. In WB's works, at least Worm and Ward, that morality often gets eclipsed by the narrator's voice, but it's still there.

The narrative of Worm is way less kind and forgiving than the narrative of Ward. Partially because it has a simpler morality; a lot of the themes are Taylor's specifically, like who to learn from, validity of personal sacrifice, power vs heroism. In the world of Worm, will to power is the rule, though. It isn't just in Taylor's head, your powers are stronger the more ruthless you are, and characters that try to have clean hands are usually cut down brutally, the only exception being Tecton's team, a chapter that feels thematically inconsistent.

The narrative of Ward takes a side on Victoria's struggle of punishment vs forgiveness. The relationship between society and the villains is set up to mirror her relationship with Amy. To the point where the final monsters are people who were nominally forgiven but still socially ostracized, turned into monsters against their will. And the solution was to give up control.

I want to contrast the villains for a second between the two works. Yes how we see them is mostly colored by the main narrators, but also when they were written is important. Worm, with its cops and robbers, villains trying to get by between inflexible heros and true monsters, was written in the depth of the Recession. Ward, with its "this is how things are now"/"fuck that" was started in 2017, two months after the Unite the Right rally, during the peak of Trumpism.

And yet, in Worm the villains are either ultimately fine people or monsters, with the final antagonist being the person with ultimately the most power, God himself the source of our suffering, while in Ward villains are assholes but trying to clearly separate them from society just makes things worse.

I agree that the moral voice in Worm is weaker than Ward, but I don't think it's kinder. I think it just considers someone else to be the real bad guy.

thinking a lot about wildbow's early works (worm, pact) and his more recent moralistic works (ward, pale) and the sheer difference in narrative empathy

in worm and pact you have characters who do fucked up things but it feels like a lot of effort is put into understanding the people behind them and where they're coming from. rachel's dogs maul people but there's a whole Arc of taylor learning to vibe with her and befriend her and of rachel getting what she needs (a place alone with her dogs where she can let other people in at her own pace) and growing as a person. all from the angle of 'this is genuinely good for rachel and helpful'. we want her to succeed because we care about her.

in pact we see how sandra duchamp grew up, how she's just as much a victim of her family as she is someone who perpetuates that harm, and while she's an antagonist the story doesn't spoonfeed it to us--we're allowed to see her human and sympathetic moments and we're allowed to feel bad for her while also wanting her stopped.

it felt. i don't know. like the story in general respected these characters, respected the reader's ability to empathize with those characters while also knowing Murder Bad or whatever.

but then the major worm fandom interpretations shifted. you had reddit and other popular sources going on about how taylor was actually horrible and an unreliable narrator, and how the undersiders were actually ~super fucked up and evil criminals~. pact and twig were spared this for the most part by virtue of being less popular with those crowds.

and i'm not sure if the morality discourse got baked into wildbow's brain by osmosis or if he felt like he wouldn't be appeasing his fandom if he didn't address it or what.

but by ward suddenly that narrative empathy, for the most part, is missing. it becomes conditional -- the protagonist and others do not extend empathy towards others until they Properly Recognize What They've Done Wrong. any improvement, any attempt to do better isn't legitimate unless the Bad Deeds are addressed and atoned for by whatever inconsistent standards the narrative adheres to. what matters isn't riley being in a healthier place and making connections--ward thinks that we should be rooting for riley because she recognizes she messed up and is constantly making up for the atrocities she committed.

i think it's kind of reached its peak in post arc 13 pale though. every time empathy is extended it's near-always accompanied by a patronizing little reminder of "mmmm, well you did Bad Things too".

you aren't allowed to just say "well damn i sympathize with charles", for example, because the narrative constantly reminds you that actually he is Still Doing Bad and therefore you aren't allowed to feel for him. it doesn't help that the story continually one-ups itself on thinking of ways to make charles over the top evil either.

but either way it's just. bleak. in a story purportedly about community building it's shockingly uncaring. you can't just sympathize with a morally grey character or take them As They Are without the story casting judgment and constantly reminding you of their verdict. it's just exhausting and makes any positive message the story tries to send feel hollow

OBLIGATORY NOTE: this essay does not mean "actually all fallen and e88 and etc should be empathized with". what it does mean is that in a moralistic work it becomes telling when ex-nazi rune gets her own interlude and a bunch of pagetime to show how she's 'doing better' while that same courtesy isn't extended to many villains who are traumatized and might have, say, legitimate reasons to not want to be arrested or feel like they have no other option, or legitimate reason to not support the heroes, but oh. they do Crimes so actually none of that matters as long as they're still Doing Crimes.

[coffee-system-uwu]

Talk shit about my job

-> refuse to quit my job

Talk shit about my job

-> refuse to quit my job

Talk shit about my job

-> refuse to-

[shemarmooresfedora]

Protective of the Princess

Summary: Jo comes home with some unexpected news and Spencer isn’t a fan. (This is a stand-alone one-shot of my completed ‘Rebuilding Family’ series)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: mentions of little kids kissing, spencer freaking out, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: based on this ask from @reidsbookclub and this ask from @samuel-de-champagne-problems

Masterlist

Spencer made it clear to Jo she could be anything she wanted to be growing up.

She would change her mind about her career path quite often but Spencer was always supportive. When she wanted to be a vet, she had a bunch of different stuffed animals to practice on. When she wanted to be an astronaut, you all built a rocket ship out of a cardboard box. When she wanted to be a scientist, Spencer got her a book set of kid’s science books.

One afternoon after school, Jo hopped up on the kitchen counter as Spencer was making her a snack and you were playing with the twins on the floor.

“Daddy, I can’t go to work any more,” Jo stated.

“Why not, Princess?” Spencer asked, sliding apple slices and peanut butter in front of her.

“I have a baby and husband now,” Jo explained.

“You got a baby and husband in one day?” you questioned.

“Thomas kissed me and then we got married under the slide at recess and now we have a baby. I don’t have time for work, Daddy,” Jo sounded exasperated.

“Thomas did WHAT?” Spencer gaped.

“He kissed me like you kiss Mommy every morning before work,” she demonstrated the little peck on her baby doll.

Spencer’s eyes widened, “Y/N, please help.”

You stood from the blanket where the twins were having tummy time.

“Jo, how about you wait until you’re a little older to start kissing people? A hug or high five can show love to. You can try that next time,” you suggested.

“Daddy says kissing is safer than handshakes though,” Jo reminded you.

“Nope! I lied! Kissing is very dangerous,” Spencer shook his head empathically, “Don’t kiss.”

“But we have a baby together,” Jo held up her baby doll.

“I see that. What’s their name?” you asked.

“This is Derek,” she informed you.

“You named him after your uncle? That’s very sweet,” you smiled.

“I want a real one so I can name it Penelope. I want to have a big belly like Mommy used to have. How are babies made?” she questioned.

Spencer grasped your hand, looking very pale, “Y/N, I need to lie down.”

“One second, love,” you squeezed his hand before turning back to Jo, “You can’t have a baby until you’re much older. Then, I’ll explain it to you, okay?”

Jo nodded.

“I need to take Daddy to bed. He’s feeling a little sick,” you told her, “You can play with the twins.”

“Actually,” Spencer slipped his hand out of yours, “I’m going to go for a drive. I’ll be back in a bit.”

You looked at him curiously as he leaned in for a kiss but then retreated under the watchful eyes of Jo.

You followed him into the entryway as he laced his converse up, “Where are you going?”

“I’ve never heard of a Thomas before until now. I need Penelope to check this kid out.”

“Check this kid out?” you laughed, “What are you expecting to find? A nine year old with a criminal record?”

“I need to make sure my daughter is safe,” he looked up at you seriously.

“Okay,” you relented, “You’re a great dad albeit very protective,” you kissed him goodbye.

“Are we going to start having to only kiss in private now?” you smirked.

“I don’t want her seeing and copying it at school,” Spencer sighed, “The last thing I want is to get a phone call from her teacher that our daughter needs to stop kissing people.”

“Okay, sneaking around could be fun anyways,” you smiled, giving him another kiss, “Tell the team I say hi.”

-

“Who does this Thomas kid think he is?” Spencer grumbled to himself as he was in the elevator, “Kissing my sweet little precious daughter. I should have him arrested. Maybe I don’t have the grounds for an arrest but I can show him my badge and scare him off.”

His ranting stopped as he knocked on Penelope’s door.

“Who is it?” she chirped.

“Spencer,” he replied, “I brought you a croissant.”

“It’s open!”

Spencer opened the door and handed her the paper bag.

“And it’s still warm!” she squealed, “You must really love me.”

“I do but I also need a favor,” he spoke.

“Name it, boy wonder,” she readied herself at her keyboard.

“I need you to look up a boy named Thomas in Jo’s class.”

“Is this kid bullying her?” she gritted her teeth, “I swear to god, I will reign hell down on this kid if he is.”

“No, it’s the opposite actually. He kissed her,” Spencer sighed.

“She already got her first kiss?” Penelope gasped.

“I know! I didn’t even have mine until 25,” Spencer replied.

Penelope clicked away at her keys, “We’ve got two Thomases in her class but according to the attendance record, Thomas Jacobson was out sick today meaning Thomas Bennett is our guy.”

“What do we know about him?” Spencer asked, crouching down to look at Penelope’s screen.

“Plays on the town soccer team, has an allergy to shellfish, good report card,” Penelope stated.

“Anything else? Any visits to the principals? Sketchy friends?” he questioned.

“I guess the sketchiest friend he has would be his imaginary friend named Robby the cowboy according to his mom’s facebook. He’s got a squeaky clean school record.”

“Let me see what this kid looks like,” Spencer desperately demanded.

Penelope gave him a look.

“Please,” he added.

The group class pictures of the past 3 years popped up on to Penelope’s screen. Each year, Jo and Thomas were standing next to each other smiling and laughing in various poses.

“He doesn’t look like much of a threat to me,” Penelope stated.

“Why hasn’t she ever asked for him to come over on a playdate?” he asked.

“She was probably scared her dad was going to embarrass her,” Penelope chuckled.

“She’s in 3rd grade! No boys!” Spencer crossed his arms.

“That rule is setting you up for a rebellious stage later in life,” Penelope rolled her eyes.

“So I just let this happen?” Spencer sighed, dropping into the chair next to Penelope.

“Yes, you’re supposed to protect her but not from nice boys who make her happy.”

“But she’s just my sweet little girl,” Spencer started to tear up.

“And she always will be but you need to let her live her life,” Penelope explained.

“I know. Thanks Penelope.”

-

You heard the car pull in while you were making dinner. You lowered the setting on the stove and made your way over to the door.

“Hey,” you greeted him, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hi,” he snuggled into the crook of your nest.

“Did you find Thomas on the FBI’s most wanted list?” you joked.

“No, he’s a good kid,” Spencer sighed in defeat, “I just don’t like the thought of her growing up. Then, she’ll eventually have to leave us.”

“That’s what being a parent is,” you whispered, “You love them, care for them, and prepare them for the world as best you can but then you have to set them free. But, I have good news for you,” you smiled.

“What?”

“You’re stuck with me forever,” you grinned.

“Thank god,” Spencer squeezed you tighter.

“Daddy!” Jo ran into the room, “Lion King is playing in theaters tonight! We need to go!”

“Okay, Princess,” he looked to you for support and you squeezed his hand, “Do you think Thomas would want to come?”

“Yes! He loves Lion King!” Jo exclaimed, running to go get ready.

“You’re a great dad,” you reminded him once again.

“I’m still going to be watching this kid like a hawk,” Spencer admitted.

“As you should,” you grinned, kissing him.

Soon enough, Jo came home next week saying she wanted to be a congresswoman and they were back to their old adventures.

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @ssacalumsg0lden @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat @spencerreidsmommy @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @mggs-sidehoe @rexit-mo @hufflepuffhaze @thisismynerdyself @xoxospencerreid @wifeyprentiss @reidsbookclub @spencersrose @pinkdiamond1016 @muffin-cup @a-little-bit-of-everything19

one-shot only taglist: @strawberryspence @fbivestreid

[dangercocktail]

Ranger Danger

The vibrational dance of Noah’s cell phone dragged him away from the horror movie splaying blood across his television. As a young starlet screamed and ran with poor coordination through the woods, Noah scanned the stream of incoming texts. 

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand over his dark hair. The incoming texts were from work. As his supervisor implored Noah’s help, he discerned they needed him to come in even though he was off duty. Some sort of mild emergency that he couldn’t quite put together. Glancing at his phone’s clock, he read that it was a little after midnight. He quickly replied ‘be there soon’, flipped off the movie, and headed into his bedroom.

Noah slipped off his gym shorts and quickly dressed in the forest ranger uniform all his coworkers wore. He gave himself a routine glance in the mirror to finish buttoning his shirt. Noah filled out his uniform with a lean beefiness acquired from miles of hiking and lifting fallen trees, his sizable biceps straining the short sleeve cuffs of his shirt. With his striking brown complexion, easy smile, and muscles, Noah was a handsome representation of the Forestry Department, frequently called in to give tours to visiting government officials or bored tour groups of sexually frustrated housewives. He always maintained a calm demeanor in the most straining of circumstances, deftly handling questions with charm. He assumed the ‘emergency’ he was needed for now was something that required his level headed thinking. Weaving his belt into the buckle of his trim waist and grabbing his hat, he headed out to his Jeep.

As Noah drove into the darker recesses of the woods where his ranger station was located, he lowered the windows on his Jeep to take in the bracing smell of pine trees and cool night air. He inhaled deeply. He loved these woods. Having worked as a ranger now for almost five years, he felt at home in this forest, having hiked its expansive trails many times over.

Pulling up to Ranger Station #04, Noah saw his District Ranger standing in the soft yellow light of the station doorway waiting for him. Taking the only remaining parking spot next to the station, Noah observed that Ben and Daniel were on duty tonight, their cars parked next to the DR’s own Ranger Jeep. 

“Hey Jim,” Noah said, lifting a hand in acknowledgment as he approached the station. “How’s it going? You were slightly ambiguous in your texts...what’s going on?”

“Hey Noah, thanks for coming on such short notice,” Jim said, his smile tired but friendly. Jim was middle aged and handsome, having served in the military for several years before leaving service for a position in the Forestry Department. His body was slightly thicker than Noah’s in the middle due to Jim’s fondness for doughnuts but the small rounded softness there was offset by thick arms that easily heaved many forest obstacles.

“Ben and Daniel missed their last two audio checks so I drove over to check the station,” Jim explained, walking with Noah into the small station. He gestured to the radio log. “Last I heard from them was at nine thirty, then radio silence.”

Noah raised an eyebrow but only slightly. This wasn’t a big emergency, the guys were probably taking their time on their latest rounds. Ben and Daniel were known for getting high on these late night shifts, then strolling deep into the woods observing the enhanced beauty of the stars.

“Where’s their observation log?” Noah said, shuffling a few of the scattered papers on the desk to the side.

“Here,” Jim said, handing a clipboard to Noah. Noah flipped through a few of the sheets before reading the top page. Ben and Daniel had logged every hourly observation walk up until 10 pm. The last two spots for the day, the eleven and midnight observation, were conspicuously blank. Still, Noah wasn’t alarmed.

“They’re probably sitting under a tree marveling at the Big Dipper,” Noah said with a smile at Jim, looking up from the clipboard. He handed it back to Jim who set it on the desk.

“You’re not wrong but let’s follow protocol and run our own observation. Shouldn’t be too hard to find these two” Jim said, adding a new sheet to the clipboard. “I apologize for making you come out here but safety first right? Two man teams always”.

Jim scribbled the time, his rank, and initials in the one o’clock slot then handed it over to Noah for his own initials. Both of them grabbed a flashlight and radio, locked the station door, and headed out into the woods, following the well worn starter path every ranger had trod day in and out.

The night air settled around the two rangers in a cool mist as fallen pine needles crunched underneath their boots. They made small chatter occasionally but mostly remained quiet, something Noah appreciated about Jim. They both enjoyed the quiet of the forest, preferring the majesty of their surroundings to the noise most humans make to fill the air.

Nearly halfway through their observational walk with no sign of other rangers, Noah stopped and looked closely at a break in the trail. The trampled and well worn path of the trail continued on but to the right, the undergrowth was disturbed. Pointing it out to Jim, the two concurred that this was a recent disturbance of the forest and most likely Ben and Daniel had veered off trail, high and looking for a place to watch stars. Picking their way through the flora, the two rangers followed the new trail.

Despite the circumstances, Noah was enjoying the walk into this new part of the forest. It was rare for the rangers to disturb parts of the forest beyond the trail without good cause. Finding Ben and Daniel was sufficient cause enough to walk in these uncharted paths and Noah took in his surroundings with a slight feeling of contentment and awe. The forest really was beautiful.

The upended pine needle path continued for some time, Noah estimating nearly fifteen minutes since they had veered from the main trail. He was starting to feel slightly concerned and opened his mouth to say something to Jim when he heard a sharp slapping sound. Glancing over, he saw Jim removing his left hand from his right arm.

“God damn mosquito,” Jim uttered, wiping the remains of the crumpled creature onto his pants. 

“Yea, consistently the worst thing out he-...” Noah started saying then cocked his ear as his sentence dropped off.

“Do you hear that?” he asked Jim, tilting his head further. Jim froze in place and listened as well. Somewhere in front of them, not too far, there was a low rumbling noise. It sounded almost guttural to Noah, like water pouring from a giant jug.

Putting a finger to his lips to keep silent, Noah began carefully walking forward with Jim right behind him. The noise grew slightly louder with each step they took until suddenly, it stopped. They stopped in their tracks. Noah cocked an eyebrow at Jim and motioned with a questioning gesture of his hand, “keep going?”

Jim nodded and the two men pressed forward through the darkness of the forest and bush. Noah noted in a corner of his mind that he had never been to this part of the forest on any of his inquiries or observations; the wood seemed completely untouched by humans save for the newly beaten down path they were following. Jim stopped for a moment and appeared to be fidgeting with his belt but at Noah’s curious look, he waved them forward and they continued. Eventually they reached a small clearing by a pond that immediately struck Noah with its serene natural splendor. However as they stepped out into the clearing, they both heard and saw them at the same time. It took Noah a beat to fully comprehend what he was looking at. 

Near the edge of the pond lay a blanket and small radio, still playing the local college station. On either side of the blanket were two enormous spheres of flesh, completely naked and wobbling slightly as Jim and Noah approached. 

“What the fuck…” Noah said as he approached the shapes slowly, observing them not moving from their spot but jiggling and shaking in place.

“Oh shit, it’s fucking Ben and Daniel,” Jim uttered as he drew closest to the quivering shape on the right. Noah’s face took on incredulity as he drew close to the left. The flesh colored ball was indeed a man but blown up to enormous proportions. His legs and feet hovered almost a foot off the ground from the immensity of his ass, Noah judging it to be almost eight feet wide. The legs themselves were encased in roll after roll of fat to the point that Noah couldn’t discern where the knees might have been, the feet themselves swollen almost unrecognizable and sinking into the fat above them. Moving his eyes up, Noah took in a belly that covered half of the fattened legs and spread out in all directions, matching the width of that enormous ass, with a belly button itself six inches wide and receding darkly into the piles of belly fat. 

Two enormous breasts sat atop the behemoth of a belly, swollen and perky like two plastic grocery bags filled with pudding. They shook slightly in the night air as Noah observed the entire body jiggle, then suddenly swell out a little more. The feet at the bottom of this mass had almost disappeared. Two arms lay to the side of the massive torso, seemingly stuck and disappearing into the expanding rolls of fat as well. As his eyes traveled finally up to the face, Noah saw the faint hint of the face that used to be Ben. His neck had ceased to exist as roll after roll of fat took up the space above his breasts and connected with his cheeks. Ben’s cheeks had become intensely rosy, swollen to a state that it looked like he had a baseball in each.

Noah saw Ben glance down at him and begin to grunt, uttering something that Noah couldn’t make out. 

“Ben, what the fuck happened…” Noah said in shock, recalling the two fit men who he had joked with a week ago in passing shifts. This quivering mass of fat was at least eight times fatter than Ben had been.

“Moosh..” Ben uttered, slurping and trying to enunciate with his fat forced pouty lips. 

“Moosh!” he forcefully said, his eyes darting wildly as that rumbling Noah had heard before in the woods sounded. It was coming from Ben’s belly. Glancing over quickly at Jim and Daniel, he saw Daniel’s belly start jiggling then begin swelling in all directions. The man was expanding massively. His arms and legs disappeared into the expansive fat of his belly, leaving him almost completely ball-shaped. He was nearly nine feet around, with only hands and feet still visible on his appendages. His breasts, the same size as Ben’s, inflated as they jiggled, nearing the size of basketballs.

Noah looked back to Ben, absentmindedly slapping the back of his neck as an insect bit him. The now almost unrecognizable ball of fat that was Ben was going wild eyed, trying in vain to shout something, his lips forced even more open from the recent gains to his cheeks.

“Msssh!” he sputtered, his whole body quivering. 

“I can’t understand you..what the hell happened here Ben?” Noah asked in horror, then turned sharply when he heard Jim cry out.

Jim stood next to the enormous ball that was Daniel, holding his stomach and looking down in shock.

“Jim, what’s wrong?” Noah yelled, beginning to walk over. 

“I..don’t...know…” Jim uttered, right before the first button on his ranger uniform popped off. It was quickly followed in succession by a second and third button as Jim’s dough middle rapidly swole into a beach ball shape. His love handles quickly expanded to the sides as his chest developed two breast shaped mounds. His cheeks fattened and a double chin wobbled into place as Noah heard Jim’s pants rip as his ass followed suit. In the matter of thirty seconds, Jim suddenly looked to be over three hundred pounds.

“Oh fuck, Noah, it’s happening to me!”  Jim yelled, waddling slightly over to where Noah stood. 

“The hell is happening here?” Noah exclaimed, his eyes shooting from the fat man in front of him to the unrecognizable blobs of men to his side. The rumbling noise came back then, but this time, it started with Jim. Jim’s eyes went wide as he clutched with chubby fingers at the fattened sphere now occupying his front. The noise rose exponentially as it began coming from Ben and Daniel as well. Noah watched as Jim’s belly began growing again, pounds and pounds of fat piling on in waves. Jim began waving his arms in shock as his entire body inflated and began to take on a generally round shape, his feet slowly slipping on the wet grass of the clearing until he fell with a thud onto his immensely fattened ass. Noah observed him begin rising in the air as the fat continued to grow and Jim began to become another ball.

Ben and Daniel themselves had also grown more, their faces beginning to sink into the sheer mass of their rolls of fat. Ben was still trying to tell Noah something but it was just sputtering noises at this point. Noah backed away from the insane scene like he had observed something otherworldly, his eyes wide and his feet stumbling occasionally. A pit in his stomach had developed which he attributed to terror but as he turned to begin running, something brought him up short. A small popping sound rang through the air as he tried to run and he felt something heavy bounce on the front of his body. Looking down, he cried as watched his own midsection, now the size of a fleshy basketball, wobble and grow double in size. 

“No…” Noah uttered, stumbled a bit as his chest began to swell. He looked back to Jim who now was completely naked and becoming fully ball shaped.

“No!” Noah yelled, as he heard the rumbling begin again in Ben, Daniel, and Jim’s bellies. He grasped at his shirt as it fully ripped open, then felt his fingers clutch his doughy middle when he heard the rumbling start in his own belly. Turning to face the other fattened spheres that were once rangers, Noah felt his entire body begin jiggling then quickly begin to grow…

[etherealxgenie]

Why Lila is Marinette’s Own Fault || Miraculous Why?

(Before I begin, note that this is my opinion over the topic and am no way am bashing anyone’s love for the ship and/or character. I respect who and what you like, therefore expect the same courtesy. However, if this is something you cannot handle, please click the back button as this will be a heavily discussed topic. No flames allowed. Other than that, enjoy.)

So usually in the story, there’s always one or two mean girls who is out to get the main character for some kind of superior reasons to justify. And there’s no reason as to why they act this way just for the sake of being mean.

Like the Ashleys from “Recess”, who tend to pick on kids just for the fun of it sometimes or cause they’re popular.

Same can go for Libby from “Sabrina The Teenage Witch” who was out to get something for what she wants or just to be superior to the other kids in school.

For Miraculous, we already have that kind of character, Chloe Bourgeois, who is the daddy’s girl of the Mayor to get what she wants. And until we had some small character development in season two (which season 3 took it away!!), we had no reason feeling sorry for her and she was just for the convenient plot in the social life for Marinette in the series.

And then… there’s Lila.

Before I get into hand in this, let me note that Lila is not a good person at all in the show. She’s a liar, a manipulator and will do whatever she can to get what she wants. She breaks into homes, steals and molests pretty models. She’s been pretty shown to be just selfish without consequences and unless we get a background story of why she acts this way, she has no excuse. Especially when she teams up with hawkdaddy to now have permission to invade and spy on Adrien whenever she wants? Fuck that.

So in Volpina, Lila is introduced as this pathological liar to get attention in season one. She obviously goes for Adrien cause he’s the famous model after all. Reasonable considering as the new person looking for attention, you seek out the most popular/famous person in the school. That would Adrien.

Though considering with her connections, it would’ve been smarter to try and impress Marinette instead if Lila did her research before she came into the scene. But of course, new person so she wouldn’t know, but whatever.

And we can see Lila easily just says things just to get Adrien’s approval and such.

And so, Marinette follows them around (stalking? really?) because Tikki points out Lila has the book Adrien took from his father’s vault and threw it in the trash.

Now the SMART thing to do would’ve been to see how Adrien would handle the situation and wait for him to leave, if to acknowledge Adrien has a mind of his own and knows when to walk away (which he does). Or at the very least, try to distract them as Marinette while Tikki retrieved the book.

But… no. You transform into Ladybug to lash out at a girl PUBLICALLY, for anyone including Adrien to hear, just to embarrass her and call her out on her lying because she… “hates liars”.

Marinette, you fucking lie ALL the time! Most of those times to Adrien! And I’m not just talking about when in regard to being Ladybug, you hypocritical- (groans)

I can list plenty of episodes: Gamer, Aninmaestro, Ikari Gozen and hell, even Reverser counts! If she hadn’t lied about Marc’s book, Nathaniel wouldn’t have torn it! (sighs)

And before you all start jumping at me saying Lila got what she deserves, I only agree partially. Ladybug, as a public figure and heroine, practically the face of Paris, acted irrationally lashing out at a bystander because of lies which were or were not believable. Lila was broadcasting a post or making the news, she was trying (poorly) to impress a boy. Ladybug gave Lila the Regina George treatment.

Yeah, so you caused an akumatized situation and Lila hates your guts. Hell, I would hate you too. That’s like a celebrity jumping at an innocent bystander when they’re whispering to their friend about a rumor that only the two of them were talking about. You can’t jump to try and stop them and should just let it dispel on its own. At that point, Lila had no real power but you just influenced her.

And… oh boy did things get worse because of this.

Look season 3 was trash (except for moments in certain episodes) and I feel talking about the infamous ‘Chameleon’ physically hurts me but… yeah gotta point out a few things. The whole episode was unrealistic, and it was an obvious ploy to be sympathetic to Marinette with Lila back… but… you’re not fooling me.

So, Lila is still on her lying game, being able to fool the students and the staff?! Okay if you believe a student has so many disabilities without any paperwork proof, you can actually get fired for that for fraud. As someone who worked with education before, that’s just pure incompetence.

So yeah, Marinette comes to school seeing the seats changes to accommodate Lila and upright begins to plot to discredit her for her lies. UM… what happened to trying to start over with Lila after failing to do so the first time?

Oh, that’s right. She gets that way (at least partly) because Lila is sitting next to Adrien. I can understand if it was because they rearranged the seating without her say so but let’s face it. Lila sitting next to Adrien was her real trigger.

So since Marinette failed to acknowledge her mistake the first time, she spends all day trying to prove Lila is lying and in return the class is angry at her. Alya even comes to point out that Marinette is jealous of Lila.

And you know what? Alya is right.

Alya knows at least what Marinette is capable of doing so when it comes to Adrien and how far she’s willing to go. Remember that Alya is the one who encouraged her to break into his locker and steal his phone. So of course, she’s worried Marinette is gonna do something to the new girl.

I don’t blame Alya for doing one of the most competent things in the show: Warning Marinette to NOT go off the handle without proof and not make herself look bad in the process.

And because Marinette failed to do so… she made Lila her enemy AGAIN. It was bad enough you had her as your enemy as Ladybug, but now you get to deal with twice the drama!

Your own fucking fault, Marinette.

Also, the advice Adrien gave? I don’t blame for him for it and neither should you. Yes, his advice is not perfect, but with the options he has on his plate, its hard to do something otherwise.

For every encounter Adrien has had with Lila, it ended up with her being akumatized or a disaster no matter how he tried to handle her. We didn’t get to see how he would resolve in Volpina because of Ladybug’s intervention, but he would try at least in Chameleon and try to get her to see she didn’t need to lie and actually tried to befriend her. At this point, Lila was already triggered by Ladybug and Marinette so she just might have to take Adrien by force instead.

At that point, Adrien just wants to stay away and which he was trying to tell Marinette don’t interact with Lila or confront her cause there’s no way to do so at this point. Maybe he was trying to tell her to wait until her rumors got discredited, but he didn’t say it clear enough for her to understand.

And keep in mind, Adrien is a sheltered child with little to zero social skills taught to him by Nathalie and Gabriel. Hell, we don’t know how his childhood was really like even with Emelie around either and Adrien seems more like the pacifist unless he needs to absolutely step in. And he did by cleaning up Marinette’s mess in ‘Ladybug’. So now he’s gotta suffer being around Lila more because of Marinette making Lila her enemy.

But once again, this is bad writing as the writers of the show obviously forgot what it’s like to live in reality. In the real world, Lila would be immediately discredited without any proof the moment she came back. Not to mention, some of the class have their own connections and have more braincells proven in the previous episodes. Google search and such. A 5-year-old wouldn’t believe these lies in these times. Hey, I believe that because I once had a kid in kindergarten during my time as an afterschool art teacher look at one of my books I illustrated before and said they liked the ‘graphics’.

Kids are fucking smarter nowadays than you think.

The only reason anyone would believe Lila’s lies is if she’s magically influenced with some kind of ‘silver tongue’ spell or something and honestly? It looks like that’s the reason.

I dunno if Thomas Astruc or Zag is trying to insult the kids/adults or insult themselves to say Paris people aren’t that smart. If it’s the latter, you should see what you are doing because I don’t want to believe that because that’s disrespectful.

I know it seems I’m trying to stand up for Lila this portion, but I’m just looking things in a  more realistic and logical way. Did Lila take things too far? Yes, waaaayyy too far and should be arrested for it since she works for Hawkmoth. But it could’ve been handled better and that makes Marinette at fault too.

Part of me wonders if she’s done this before because in Zombiezou, she also causes Chloe to ruin her gift for Ms. bustier. If Marinette didn’t antagonize Chloe in the locker in front of the class, maybe she wouldn’t have done anything. Again, I’m not saying Chloe was justified, but if that was the reason, yeah I can see her doing it for payback.

So to all those fics where I’m supposed to be ‘Boo-hoo’ for Marinette because of what Lila did? Fuck you guys because you need to dig deeper into the story to see both sides and not just make it a pity party where Marinette is the innocent victim.

It’s called “Cause and Effect”.

And considering she made Lila her enemy, Marinette is gonna get effected enough because that’s how karma works.

[haikyuuhoo]

Contemporaneous - Chapter 1

Pairing: Atsumu x F!Reader

Summary: In which you are so incredibly lucky to exist at the same time as Atsumu Miya. Or, perhaps, it’s the exact opposite…

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing, inconsistent chronology (sorry I just liked it better that way), that’s about it so far

A/N: Okay, here’s ch. 1 finally! Mostly background, setting the stage, all that. Things will probably move quicker in upcoming chapters because I’m busy and have a hard time thinking of filler plot lol. Enjoy, please let me know what you think!

Prologue | Chapter 2

All of your best memories were with the twins.

Not like that was a hard thing to accomplish—pretty much all of your memories were with the twins.

The good memories, the bad memories, and all the ones in between. They were the biggest constant in your life and you felt so lucky to have them.

Sometimes you got emotional about it, and they teased you for it, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“H-Hey, why are ya crying?” Atsumu had asked one time at fifteen when the three of you sat outside of the 24-hour convenience store near your house at 2 in the morning, each of you holding your own popsicles you’d snuck out to get.

“I just love you guys so much,” you said with a sniffle, wiping your nose on the cuff of your sleeve.

Osamu grimaced, looking down at you. “Y-Ya don’t have to get all emotional about it. We’re kind of stuck with ya.”

You frowned, giving him a light punch in the shoulder. “Just say you love me too, dummy,” you huffed.

His eyebrows knitted together. “We love you,” he sighed before wrapping an arm around you to give you a side-hug.

Atsumu wrapped his arm around you as well and gave you a grin. “Yeah, but please don’t cry anymore. It’s kinda embarrassing,” he laughed.

“Oh, shut up,” you whined, though you felt comfort flood through you at the feeling of being sandwiched between your two best friends. “You know I get sentimental when I’m tired.”

“Doesn’t make it any less embarrassing,” Osamu mumbled, but a smile played on his lips.

You hummed and closed your eyes for a moment. “Well get used to it, you’re not getting rid of me.”

The twins were like your personal bodyguards. If someone messed with you, they messed with the Miya twins—and no one wanted to mess with the Miya twins. You first learned that when you were nine years old.

The air left your lungs, palms and knees scraping against the ground as you were pushed from the swing you’d been sitting on.

“You’re so lame!” one kid teased from behind you, shrill voice barely making its way to your ears as tears began to prick in your eyes.

“Yeah, where are your dumb friends? They must not like you if they aren’t even playing with you!” another said as the three kids who were picking on you moved to stand in front of where you still remained on your hands and knees, head hung in an attempt to hide the way you were crying.

Atsumu and Osamu had been punished for fighting during in class and the teacher made them stay inside for the first ten minutes of recess. You told them you’d wait for them by the swings; you didn’t really hang out with anyone else anyway. This group of kids didn’t like that though, telling you that the swings were their hangout spot during recess. You told them you’d leave after a couple minutes—you didn’t really want to just stand around and wait for the twins. What was the harm in swinging for a bit?

The harm was too great for the kids currently bullying you, apparently, and they decided to shove you off of the swings.

Your hands and knees burned from the scrapes you’d gotten, and you pushed your palms against your legs to try to make it stop stinging.

“Aww, are you crying?” the third kid laughed, and you looked up at them, face wet with tears.

“Oh my god, she is crying!”

A chorus of laughter sounded in front of you, making you cry even harder. Your face grew hot with embarrassment, tears leaving silvery streaks on your skin. And then suddenly, the figures of the three kids in front of you were shadowed as someone approached them from behind.

Two someones, in fact.

“Leave her alone,” Atsumu said, his voice causing a terror to run through the bullies in a way you didn’t think was possible for a nine-year-old.

The twins had a few bandages decorating their arms and faces, evidence of all the spats they got into with each other. But even after being kept in from recess they were already willing to fight again—just not with each other this time.

“You’re really pathetic,” Osamu continued, arms crossed over his chest as he gave the terrified kids an apathetic look.

“Yeah, get lost before I punch yer stupid face.” Atsumu stuck his tongue out, and somehow, the intimidation worked.

The bullies scurried off and Osamu helped pull you to your feet. “I’ll take ya to the nurse,” he offered, looking at the scrapes on your hands.

“And I’ll go beat them up,” Atsumu said, eyes still angry as he watched the kids run to the other side of the playground.

“No, it’s okay,” you sniffled, reaching up to wipe your eyes.

“Yeah, you’ll just get in trouble again, dummy,” Osamu reasoned with his twin.

Atsumu sighed and turned to you, shoulders slumping when he really took a good look at you. “’M sorry we weren’t here,” he said as the two of them started walking you back to the building so you could get your cuts cleaned up.

“‘S okay,” you said again.

“No it’s not! They’re dumb for picking on ya,” Atsumu argued. He let out an annoyed grunt when the three of you got inside. “Wish they’d get kept in from recess for being idiots…”

Being a family friend also meant that you got along with the twins’ parents too—especially their mom. She treated you as if you were her own daughter, and sometimes she joked that she wished you were because the twins were so hard to handle.

You were so close with them that sometimes you would go over to their house even when you knew the twins were at volleyball practice.

When you were twelve, she’d decided you were probably old enough to watch one of the shows she enjoyed, and so you started going over to their house after school to watch TV dramas with their mom while you waited for them to come home from practice.

“Y/N,” Atsumu whined one day as soon as he saw the two of you. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off and he was already complaining. This was the fourth day in a row they came home to find you watching television with their mom. “What’re ya doing? Yer supposed to be our friend!”

“Shut up,” Osamu mumbled, taking his shoes off and removing his jacket. “You’re so embarrassing.”

Atsumu frowned, eyes going wide as if he was pleading with you to come hang out with them instead.

“‘Tsumu, you just got home. We’re almost done with this episode, and then I’ll come hang out!” you reasoned with him.

He huffed, finally reaching down to take off his shoes. “Sometimes I feel like ya like her more than me,” he grumbled, earning him a smack on the back of his head from his brother.

“Keep up the attitude and she will start liking Mom more,” Osamu hissed.

You were always at their games. And when I say always, I mean always. You were the loudest member of the cheering section, and there were countless times when you didn’t even have the voice left to congratulate them on their victories.

One thing you never did, though, was boo them. They were your best friends—and you were close with the rest of the team too—so you never had the heart to boo them when they messed up.

Atsumu confronted you about it once when you were seventeen—they hadn’t even lost—after he’d had a tough game.

“Y/N,” he said, face stuck in a frown as he approached you.

You gave him a grin, wrapping your arms around him as you pulled him into a hug. “Congrats, ‘Tsumu!”

“Don’t congratulate me,” he hissed, stiffening in your hold.

You frowned and pulled away from him. “Why not? You won.”

“Because I sucked. You should have booed me.”

You rolled your eyes, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re so dramatic. Everyone messes up, ‘Tsumu. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It was close! I could have cost us the match!” he argued.

Now it was your turn to frown at him. “So you botched a few serves, it’s not a big deal. Your sets were great. Besides, I’m not gonna boo my own team, Atsumu—” He grimaced at the sound of his full name. “—and I’m most certainly not going to boo you.”

“Losers don’t need applause.”

You scoffed. “You aren’t a loser! I swear sometimes you’re so hard on yourself for no reason. People have bad games. I’m not going to ridicule you for it.”

“You should!”

Your jaw clenched. You hated when he did this to himself.

“I deserve ta be booed, ta be yelled at, ta be told what a piece of trash I am because I almost screwed this up for us!”

“It’s not going to make you better, you dumbass!” you finally shouted, shoving his chest.

Atsumu stumbled backwards a few steps, heartrate increasing. He couldn’t tell whether it was from the adrenaline of the game, his disappointment in himself, or your actions. You’d never pushed him like that. Sure, you bickered and things of that nature, but this time you seemed genuinely angry.

“You’re one of the hardest working people I know and seeing you put yourself down like that when all you had was one bad set makes me want to punch you in the face!” Your heart was pounding, the sound deafening you as your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I don’t give a shit about those people in the stands, they don’t really care about you. I’m your best friend! I’m not supposed to beat you down, I’m supposed to pick you back up!”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, words getting caught in his throat as he tried to gather his thoughts.

You pushed past him with a scowl. “I’m gonna go congratulate ‘Samu. Don’t talk to me until you’ve got your shit together.”

Osamu had been standing with Aran, Suna, and Kita by the entrance to the gym. They’d been chatting, but it had gotten cut short in favor of watching your interaction with the setter.

Osamu was in shock. He’d never seen you like that, which was saying something considering how long he’d known you, and it was kind of refreshing to see his brother get put in his place like that.

“That was kinda hot,” Suna said absentmindedly, eyebrows raised in amusement.

The gray-haired twin turned to glare at his friend. “Say that again and I’ll punch you.”

“Osamu,” Kita scolded.

“Sorry, Kita-san.”

Of course, with years and years of memories and friendship with the twins, you couldn’t help but think it was more than luck that brought you together. And even though you believed the three of you were fated to be together, as you got older something just felt different.

The summer before you started high school you had started to think that maybe you were fated to be more than just friends with Atsumu when feelings for him started to blossom. You tried to ignore them, far too shy and inexperienced in the ‘liking boys’ department to know how to deal with this new sensation.

You tried not to let it change your friendship with him, but there were times when you’d feel your face grow hot or your stomach flutter when you were around him.

At first, you didn’t like this feeling at all.

The twins had always been your comfort—your safe space. And now you were nervous to even be around Atsumu. But at the same time, all you wanted to do was be around him.

You hated it.

You hated the way you immediately perked up at the sound of them coming home when you should have been watching TV with their mom, now too distracted to even pay attention to the end of the show.

You hated the way you wanted to comfort Atsumu in a way that was so much more than friendly when he was beating himself up.

And you loathed the way you felt jealousy bubble in your veins at the thought of Atsumu liking someone else.

So you did your best to push the feelings away when you were around them.

But when you were alone, they all tumbled out, and you decided to take up journaling as an attempt to deal with the feelings. You felt embarrassed, as a teenage girl does, to have a journal filled with all of these thoughts, so whenever you were finished writing you hid it in your sock drawer lest one of the twins find it and tease you about it for weeks.

When you started high school and the twins joined the volleyball team, they were instant phenoms. And in turn, they garnered a lot of attention—especially from girls.

It upset you, if you were going to be honest with yourself. Not only because you couldn’t really hang out with your friends in the halls or during lunch without being interrupted by their gang of fan girls, but also because you despised the girls who flung themselves at Atsumu. It killed you to see them batting their long eyelashes and talking to your best friends with their cute voices, all while you sat to the side like some kind of unwanted piece of stale bread. And it especially killed you when Atsumu started returning their affections.

It scared you. It all scared you. The feelings, the girls, high school—you were terrified. You didn’t want to ruin things between the two—three—of you with your feelings, but the girls made you so insecure. So instead, you wrote in your journal.

You wrote down all of your feelings for three years.

You didn’t speak a word of them to anyone, no less the twins.

And there was a page you came back to almost every day, even though you had written it during your first year:

 The odds of existing are slim,

so the odds of you and I existing at the same time

must be next to impossible,

and I think that’s beautiful.

 Maybe the universe does work in my favor after all

because I got the chance to get to know you.

 You stared at the page, not even realizing tears were forming in your eyes until one fell and landed on your hand that pressed down on the page. It was a habit to hold it open, but it wasn’t even necessary anymore—you’d opened your journal to this page enough that it stayed open on its own.

When you’d written it, it was a happy thought. But now, three years later, it didn’t feel so happy. Atsumu was getting busier and busier with volleyball, and that meant he only got better, and when he got better his fanbase grew.

You were starting to feel like a second choice.

Scratch that, you were starting to feel like a tenth, twentieth, fiftieth choice.

You craved the attention he gave those girls. You wanted him to grin at you like that. You wanted to be more than just his best friend.

But you felt like you were running out of time.

It was ironic, considering you believed the universe brought the three of you together with the intention of you being side by side forever.

Maybe, after all this time believing it, you were finally starting to realize that you were wrong.

[muwur]

snapchat headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for using snapchat w ur boi toi ft. the pretty setter squad

❧ gn reader

✎ 3.1k words

a/n: kinda a combo of how they use sc and the kinds of snaps they send you! along w wat u send them, and uh... dating stuf n shenanigans? texting/snapping habits? my fantasies? IDEK ANYMORE EOFHEFJ

this was born from the recesses of my mind , which desired nothing mor than snapchats from suga , us sending cute selfies , others bein dumb n chaotic , no context videos , n him snapping me photos of some mangoes on sale he said he’ll buy for me DXX it’s too late for me now

doing research on hq bois and surfing thru sc features (im just now realizing theres quite a bit?? im hoping i address most of them at some point lolol) instead of real life tings aHHhhhHAHA

requests: open! will be working on a suga one i got, dw, requester!

sugawara

✧ sends good morning and good night snaps

✧ so he’s rlly good at keeping streaks, probs has the longest ones (one of them being y’alls streak)

✧ posts tidbits of volleyball practice on his story every once in a while

✧ snaps you pics of his sleeping teammates when they’re coming back to school after a long day of matches , adding a single ‘❤️’ as a caption

✧ he will also create colorful masterpieces on all of them

✧ gives daichi a santa beard, tanaka a squiggly stache (i imagine it to look like spongebob n patrick’s seaweed ones now that were mEN), n kageyama sum angry brows,,, wait he already has them lolol u good der kags

✧ posts a picture of you when you’re hanging out, captioning it: “🥰“

✧ has conversations with you purely via snaps

✧ ranges from casual chats and checking up on u to crackwhoring ( ** indicates the photo, while the “” quotes indicate the caption, all snaps are italicized, otherwise its regular dialogue)

✧ suga: *peace sign* “hey sweetheart, how r u?”

✧ you: *pics of homework* “ahh, drowning in school ;-; i cant wait for this week to be over fghjkl”

✧ suga: *close up with :o on his face* “let’s study together tmrw!”

✧ or

✧ suga: *complete darkness* “its 3 am n i cant sleep”

✧ you: *the top half of your head, laying on a pillow* “ ;( aw babe. do u want me to send something to help u sleep?”

✧ suga: *still in darkness* “y u still up?? go sleep. n 🥺 yes pls”

✧ you: *snaps pics of feet* “that’ll be 50 bucks, pay up” 

✧ suga: *darkness remains* “can we make a trade instead? i promise to make it worth ;)”

✧ ok now u BOTH cant sleep (im sry my crackheading be acting up around 2am eeryday, i stan a mischievous suga--)

✧ video chats (in the darkness lol) instead until you both pass out (im not in luv u r 😭)

✧ super down to take filtered selfies w you

✧ does all the silly ones with you (things like ’angry face’ or the frog one)

✧ but also rlly digs lookin cute with you using some heart crowns, y’all an aesthetic (n crakhead) duo fosho

✧ def subscribes to life hacks and tries them out himself, has a 50% success rate

kageyama

✧ doesn’t rlly use snapchat too much

✧ but when he does

✧ will either send you a picture to indicate he’s at volleyball practice (wow wat a sexi lookin gym floor)

✧ or some random picture of whatever he’s doing at the moment (*drinking milk*)

✧ this is mostly in order to save streaks

✧ he’s so bad at streaks

✧ “why does it matter?? what’s the point of sending just black screens or whatever’s in front of you at the moment??”

✧ can’t keep a consistent streak for more than 3 days and also doesn’t care (until hinata challenges him to see who can have the longer one)

✧ when you send him videos of him playing, he really focuses on them to try to improve his technique. asks you to send those vids to him (assuming u saved them, which u did)

✧ but when you look over his shoulder when he’s watching a video and give him some compliment (“i recorded at the perfect moment! that was a really good set, kageyama!”), he gets a bit flustered

✧ gets even more flustered but pretty happy whenever you post videos on your story showing karasuno winning some points with captions like:

✧ “footage of the legendary quick >.>” or “karasuno crows flyin high!” or “these bois make my heart 😭 im so proud”

✧ you WILL catch him off guard in photos, using filters that surrounds his head w/ emojis like 🥺💖🥰💘

✧ you also put these on your story (to his dismay)

✧ ppl comment on these mor than anything else (n for those who dont rlly kno kageyama, theyre kinda surprised to him like this)

✧ hinata snickers “hey kageyama you look pretty good here--”

✧ takes some selfies with you, mostly cuz you want them

✧ saves them after u send them over (n secretly cherishes them)

✧ occasionally watches his subscriptions, they’ll usually involve sports, mostly volleyball (who woulda guessed)

✧ you use his bitmoji to test out random facial expressions you would never see him wear

✧ you: “can you smile and wink like this? act like you’re the obnoxious charming guy in a shojo.”

✧ will actually attempt, but it looks so bad that you die inside and he never wants to try again cuz of ur laughing outburst (you: “😭😭 bb im sorry i couldnt help it”)

oikawa

✧ literally sends you anything and everything

✧ morning bathroom selfie to show off how good his hair came out that day, saying:

✧ “he has risen”

✧ or “i woke up like this”

✧ and my favorite, “you’re lucky you get this content for frEE”

✧ selfies with iwa, who just looks annoyed and exasperated at the camera

✧ sends you pics of his lunch and snacks (“bet u wish u had milk bread too”)

✧ always packs extra milk bread so he could convince you to stay at his practice after school--

✧ FILTERSS

✧ I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENUF

✧ will either use the filters that make him kayooottt (cute)

✧ loves the ones named ‘hearts,’ ‘soft,’ ‘peach,’ ‘butterfly cheeks,’ vsco filters LOL, etc

✧ uses ‘big mouth’ when he feelin a bit sASSY; also loves to use this one when he rants, it channels his inner valley girl

✧ sometimes he’ll be snacking or drinking something while he does so (“hey guys today im gonna eat these milk buns from my favorite bakery and this bomb orange juice and complain about this little kid who talked smack to me earlier and almost made me cry--”)

✧ takes cute selfies with you, is an aesthetic selfie king, puts them on his story to show off he’s hangin with you

✧ but on your story you only post the ones he looks bad in LOL

✧ has separate stories for his every need, some r private (and lucky you, ur included in all of them)

✧ titles them ‘mean things iwa said to me today,’ ‘ranting hotbox + mukbangs,’ ‘a day in the life of oikawa,’ ‘volleyball 🏐,’ ‘unpopular opinions,’ etc. 

✧ fitting room photoshoots lol

✧ “y/n, what do you think of this??” “and this?” “oOH WHAT ABOUT THIS??”

✧ ends up calling you through video chat so you can live critique his choices

✧ “oikawa, please no, i can’t be seen with you in public if you wear those--”

✧ also changes his bitmoji’s outfits from time to time, hopes you’ll notice, but you don’t LOL (oikawa: ;((((((( )

kenma

✧ uses sc usually just to reply to messages ppl send him

✧ indifferent about streaks, but keeps a few with ppl he’s closer to

✧ mindlessly plays the snapchat games with you, finds some of them kinda cute

✧ you both made his bitmoji for him, dressing his up in the orange cat suit

✧ you also helped make kuroo’s and put his in the black cat suit to match--

✧ snaps you every time he gets a new game, starts playing it, and once he finishes

✧ started to post some gameplays and reviews on his sc story (might as well add them to sc since he was already on other social platforms), and ended up amassing a large following

✧ follows the tech and gaming stories on sc

✧ as well as the ones with cute animals--

✧ open to selfies with you, usually wears a calm expression and holds up a peace sign

✧ even occasionally sticks his tongue out

✧ his story is occasionally heavily bombarded with candids of him w/ pretty sc filters, all taken by you

✧ but of all the filters, you love using the clout glasses on him

✧ especially when he’s just minding his own business

✧ “kenma, in his tru habitat” when hes cocooned in a blanket

✧ “kenma, on his way to steal yo manz” while on his way to the bathroom

✧ “kenma, next iron chef. watch out gordon” as he’s cooking instant ramen

✧ “kenma” n das it

✧ but he thinks it meme-y so he lets you do whatever you want, kinda digs it

✧ you end up dedicating your snap story to memes of kenma and the nekoma volleyball team. ppl are in it for the shits n giggles n hot bois

✧ you later discover someone else did the same thing with their volleyball team filled with hot bois from shiratorizawa, and you befriend tendou and share funni internet tings

akaashi

✧ 99% of his photos include either you or bokuto or both

✧ bokuto spams akaashi’s story and contact list with selfies and videos of himself using weird filters, often gets you to join him

✧ has several streaks, but will send something with more substance than a black screen or his bedroom window

✧ will usually involve smthng that just happened to him or smthing he saw, like:

✧ “a kind older lady offered me some apples in return for helping her”

-or:

✧ “how do i break the news to bokuto that the yaikniku place he’s been wanting to go to for the past week ,,, is closed today”

✧ o n let’s not leave out:

✧ “is it possible to conjure a ghost using a wooden spatula, ketchup, and a chalk drawn hexagram? bokuto’s been paranoid ever since he tried last night and i dont know what to tell him. seriously, help”

✧ looks through stories occasionally, comments whenever bokuto makes questionable decisions

✧ also comments on whatever you’ve posted. his words range from “you’re cute” to “why,” depending on the content

✧ ppl know when y’all are hanging out cuz he’ll post smthing to indicate he’s with you, usually it’s some candid and you’re not paying attention

✧ appreciation posts for you as well! esp if you got him something, like onigiri or his fav, Nanohana no Karashiae , for lunch! (akaashi: *snaps a pic of his food* “thank you y/n for feeding me”)

✧ prefers video calling over texting/snapping whenever possible tho

✧ occasionally reminisces thru his sc memories

✧ enjoys the flashback feature and will send them to you and bokuto (cuz they’re about y’all anyway lolol)

✧ also has secretly saved a bunch of selfies of himself, consists of him trying out a lot of the filters (he feelin himself)

✧ you, one day, looking thru his phone and discovering them: “akaashi, you’re so pretty wtf”

✧ akaashi: “...”

koganegawa

✧ sends you selfies of him before practice

✧ during breaks

✧ and after practice, usually makes a comment about how it went for him that day like:

✧  “i hit a decent toss today and futakuchi actually complimented me!”

✧ that, or:

✧ “i got yelled at 17 times today 😢😩”

✧ has quite a few streaks, his longest ones being with you and hinata

✧ def uses filters

✧ tries out every funny one he finds and sends you videos

✧ “look y/n im an aaaaAALlliiEEENnnNNN oo oo hoo hhhooOOh”

✧ “now im a chicky nuggy!!” (chicken nugget)

✧ also enjoys the doodle feature

✧ but he uses the filter with the clout glasses unironically--

✧ usually when smth good happens to him and he feels happy and/or cool about it

✧ “just beat the boss in this game on my 69th try B)”

✧ “kogane, that’s--”

✧ plays sc games with you and thinks bitmojis r cool

✧ kinda sad he cant find a hair option that matches him tho lolol rip

✧ you: “you hair’s just,,, unique,,,”

✧ subscribed to anything sports and fitness, as well as pop culture so he can stay in the loop

✧ also watches everyone else’s stories, pointing out whenever he sees smthing cool and/or interesting

✧ “woahh, karasuno’s at nationals right now! i wish we could’ve won, but next year for sure!!”

✧ you encourage him at all his games, hyping him up irl and online

✧ “koganegawa: best setter 😍!!”

✧ luckily you didnt record the parts he completely messed up LOL

semi

✧ before going out with you, snaps you a pic of his casual outfit like:

✧ semi: “does this look ok”

✧ you: “babe you look great, tendou was just messing with you”

✧ will make unwanted appearances on tendou’s snap and complains to you about them

✧ “i didnt consent to being part of his meme page” and

✧ “okay, but he didn’t only have to share all the moments i messed up--”

✧ also indifferent about streaks but will do them

✧ sometimes sends snaps/streaks indicating he’s practicing his music

✧ when you see these you usually ask him to send you vids or if you can come over n watch

✧ initially is a bit shy about it but he loves what he does and you and knows you’re genuinely interested and supportive so he agrees

✧ secretly rlly enjoys having you as his personal audience

✧ lowkey into asmr, like the soap cutting shit as well as chewing crunchy things

✧ also watches food porn and clips of mukbangs, then can’t resist going on youtube and watching the whole thing

✧  “y/n, can we try this, it looks so good--”

✧ will also often watch oikawa’s stories, especially his ‘ranting hotbox + mukbangs,’ and makes comments about him being an idiot

✧  “this kid he’s talking about is a savage”

✧ but admits they’re quite entertaining

✧ just looks serious in all the selfies you take with him

✧ you: “can you look like you’re enjoying yourself?”

✧ semi: “i look cooler like this tho”

✧ sc memories filled with shenanigans from you and the volleyball team, doodles, and mirror selfies with him experimenting diff looks (you: “tendou, you got him way too concerned about this”)

✧ also enjoys showing off he’s with you, taking a short video of you when you hang out

✧ you: “semi, i look bad right now”

✧ semi: “but you can never look bad”

✧ you: “🥺 bb”

✧ viewers: “aw”

✧ shiratorizawa: “can he be this nice with us LOL”

shirabu

✧ his main mode of communication with you is mostly through the regular messaging app, so he doesn’t use sc too much

✧ also doesn’t care for streaks and is bad at keeping them

✧ will answer to you or his senpais rather soon tho

✧ but lets all his other notifications pile up a bit before finally going thru them

✧ goes through the snaps he receives really fast, spending like 2 seconds each to look at them cuz aint nobody got time for dat

✧ doesn’t even rlly open goshiki’s LOL

✧ you have fun using filters on him and taking videos while he’s just doing his own thing peacefully like studying

✧ it takes him a second to notice and when he finally looks up, he just gives you an exasperated look

✧ cue you cracking up with laughter bc the filter finally shows up on his face

✧ his eyes and mouth are now on mike wazowski

✧ that, or his face becomes so disturbingly moRPhed like an alien

✧ caption: “ken-chan, my future medical man 😍”

✧ “y/n, please, this is like the 7th time in the last 20 minutes--”

✧ finally convinced him to take a study break and hang out with you

✧ which usually consists of snacking and light banter while you lay your head on his lap

✧ and scrolling through snapchat stories and showing him what everyone else is up to and cool things you’re subscribed to

✧ “loooook, dr. miami’s doing another butt job! is this the line of work you’re studying so hard for?”

✧ “no, it’s really not”

✧ is actually very soft with you and likes having the photos and vids for memories

atsumu

✧ sends you snaps where his brother looks bad, captioning it:

✧ “this is evidence that im the hotter twin”

✧ likewise, osamu sends you snaps where atsumu looks even worse

✧ like, the mans passed out, looking rekt and open mouthed, drool seeping into his pillow

✧ osamu: “u still have time to break up with him”

✧ also lucky for you, atsumu also loves to take unflattering photos of you and send them to you randomly at like 2 am

✧ you: “nani tf when did you even take this??”

✧ usually posts a snap while he’s out somewhere like at a match, the gym, outside on a run, a party, or just hanging out with you or his frens

✧ however, makes sure you look good if you show up on his story cuz he wants to show you off

✧ doesn’t really care for streaks, but has a lott

✧ but also has a tON of unopened snaps

✧ is the type to send just a black screen n call it a day, or maybe spice it up by sending a pic of the sexi gym floor (a comeback) w his shoe in the corner

✧ will, however, consistently respond to you and kinda looks forward to ur snaps (secretly hopes you show ur face)

✧ but when you dont:

*in class*

✧ atsumu: *a smirk on his face* “your content’s kinda dry today” 

✧ you: *your sexi desk* “my nudez ain’t free, i demand compensation”

✧ atsumu: *grasped his chin in thought, but angled the cam up bc he needa hide his phone in class lolol* “what if i... take you out on a romantic excursion”

✧ you: * your face but with ‘sausage’ filter* “🥵🥵🥵🥵 yessir, what u want”

✧ rlly only wants to have pics of your face wat a closeted sOFTIE

✧ likes to have content on his flashbacks

✧ usually has other social media sources to keep up to date with things

✧ actually rlly digs using sc filters, mostly ones that’ll make him look like a queen

✧ captions a selfie of you two like: “me >>>>>>> y/n”

✧ but nearly everyone who comments on it is like: “i think you flipped the sign, bro 🤥”

✧ judges ppl who are into soap cutting asmr (you will never hear the end of it if you also like it)

a/n: sc kinda dying for me, my use went from suga to an atsumu to like nearly nonexistent LOL

also o gawd i already have ideas here n there for a pt 2 so stay tuned fjxnwfesd hope it takes me less long cuz this one took me fkin foreva LOL

idk y i made semi like mukbangs but i feel like he’d be rlly into them--

[tealin]

Observation Hill

To see the post in its original format, please visit twirlynoodle.com/blog

There is no mistaking Observation Hill when you arrive at McMurdo, if you know anything about it.  It is a distinct cone, right at the end of the peninsula – even if you've never seen a picture of it, its name alone tells you it's a prime lookout, and sticking out into McMurdo sound as it does, it has clear views in every direction.

I had seen pictures of it, but I was still surprised how it loomed over the station.  Unlike the vastly larger Mt Erebus, it is visible from everywhere; whether you're eating in the Galley or crawling back to bed from the Crary lab in the wee hours, it's always looking over your shoulder.

Though not apparent in the above photo, it is clearly visible in person that there is a large cross mounted nearly at the peak of the hill.  Visitors especially from the States might assume it is just another expression of religious devotion – Christ died on a cross on a hill, so hilltop crosses are not unusual in a country which puts great stock in expressions of Christianity – but this is not another one of those things, in fact it isn't even American.  This cross was erected in January 1913 by the surviving men of the Terra Nova Expedition, as a memorial to Captain Scott and the other members of his party who died out on the Ross Ice Shelf on their way home from the South Pole.

Before the ship arrived it was decided among us to urge the erection of a cross on Observation Hill to the memory of the Polar Party.  On the arrival of the ship the carpenter immediately set to work to make a great cross of jarrah wood [an Australian hardwood].  There was some discussion as to the inscription, it being urged that there should be some quotation from the Bible because "the women think a lot of these things."  But I was glad to see the concluding line of Tennyson's "Ulysses" adopted: "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."  

... Observation Hill was clearly the place for it, it knew them all so well. Three of them were Discovery men who lived three years under its shadow: they had seen it time after time as they came back from hard journeys on the Barrier: Observation Hill and Castle Rock were the two which had always welcomed them in.  It commanded McMurdo Sound on one side, where they had lived: and the Barrier on the other, where they had died.  No more fitting pedestal, a pedestal which in itself is nearly 1000 feet high, could have been found. 

(Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, pp.565-7)

The establishment of the cross took two days: the first, to hack a hole in the volcanic rock in which to mount it, and the second to carry up the pieces and erect them.  

It stands nine feet out of the rocks, and many feet into the ground, and I do not believe it will ever move.  When it was up, facing out over the Barrier, we gave three cheers and one more.   (ibid., p.567)

106 years later, there is a hiking trail up Observation Hill.  I had intended to make a pilgrimage since the moment I arrived, but with everything else going on, and the ongoing challenge to get enough sleep, it wasn't until quite late in my visit that I finally made it.

My first attempt was on a relatively fine day, when I thought I could get some good views. The trailhead was clearly marked on the station map, but when I got there I couldn't find a way to reach it without crossing a fuel pipeline, and I had a dim recollection from orientation that this was a big no-no.  I wandered about looking for access until I started getting a headache from the fumes, and gave up.

The next opportunity came a few days later, after I'd found out from a veteran that it was OK just to step over the pipeline there.  It was a thickly cloudy day, and hazy by Antarctic standards, so I wouldn't get as good a view, but that did mean I could look forward to having the hill to myself.  So I stepped over the pipeline and started up.

It looks like a terribly steep climb from the bottom, but once on the slope it's not so bad, and is far less slippery than the gravel slope of Arrival Heights.  Partway up I passed a mountain rescue class, but beyond that the trail was entirely mine.

Like the rest of Ross Island, Observation Hill is volcanic in origin – in fact it was once a small volcano of its own.  Unlike the subglacial volcano that is now Castle Rock, which grew cylindrically through a hole it melted in the ice, Observation Hill must have been uncovered in its later years  at least, because it has the classic cone shape made by molten rock running down the outside.  It is a lighter colour than much of the rest of the exposed rock in the area, and in places, it gives a really good impression of being sedimentary rather than igneous.

While the climb was not as physically intense as I had feared, it did still make me very warm, and I had two pauses, not to catch my breath but to cool down.  One was to watch the rescue class, the other was when, somewhere near the top, I lost the trail, and examined the terrain for a while to guess which side would be least fall-off-able.  I chose the wrong one, it turns out – I didn't fall off, but I did have to pick my way over some bare rock and came out above the cross, which is mounted in a pocket of rubble just off the peak.

It's hard to tell from the photo but it is in fact quite large – I am an average sized female and I  stood well under the crossbar.  The inscription is still there, but over a century of blizzards have battered it, and some parts are just barely decipherable.

The names – above of the worst of the blowing grit – are still legible.  This gave me one of those moments which always seems to come by surprise.  I have lived most of my life, and certainly all of my career, in close proximity with fictional characters, who demand to be believed in, either out of escapist necessity or professional duty.  Most of the time I am off in my own little world, and the fact that that little world is now a historical moment in Antarctica does not, necessarily, make it more real, in relation to my literal present reality, than any movie I've worked on.  I know these guys were real, I have seen film footage of them, and read their handwriting, and, some of them, even met members of their families!  But when I'm up to my elbows in the work, it's easy to give it the part of my brain that suspends disbelief on a production.  Suddenly something will come along that jolts me back to their reality: in this case, a name carved on a physical object by someone who knew them personally.

At the same time, this physical object impressed upon me again just how much time separates their reality and mine.  Originally the cross was painted white, with the incised letters filled in black.  Only a little of the white paint remains in the deepest recesses of what are quite shallow letters, now.  In 1960, when Silas Wright returned and was photographed up here, the wood had already been scoured clean.  His visit was 47 years after the cross was put in place, and 49 years before mine.  The same imagination that conflates historical realities with fictional ones can make those years evaporate, but that is still a lot of years, and erosion, unlike imagination, doesn't lie.

Cherry may have believed that the cross would never move, but it has in fact blown down twice, once in the winter of 1974 and again in 1993.  Its restoration in 1994 was a significant effort: a new concrete "boot" was made for it at Scott Base and delivered to the site by helicopter, and the cross itself was relayed up the hill by teams of helpers.  (You can see photos of the event here, p.44)  I cannot say how moving it is to see such an outlay of resources and enthusiasm by people who never met the Polar Party, to perpetuate their memory.

The cross isn't the only thing to see at the top of Observation Hill, of course – there is everything else.  It turned out to be the perfect way to end my tour of Terra Nova landmarks, not only because it was the last bit of home territory the Terra Nova men themselves visited, but because I could see nearly everywhere I'd been from up here.

As you can see, it was not the greatest day for landscape photography, what with the matte light and the taller mountains being covered with cloud.  But I had not come up here to take pictures.  The sombre atmosphere befitted what I had come to do, which was to remember these men and thank The Powers That Be for the blessings that had been showered upon me in the last few weeks.

The cross faces south, towards their last camp, and the Pole.  This is, of course, a thoughtful and fitting aspect of the memorial.  It also gives the impression of a beacon, a light in a window, a lighthouse on a headland, guiding them home. The men who erected it knew the men were dead.  They are still dead.  We all know this.  But they are still out there somewhere, and it is not impossible to imagine some small irrational part of the human psyche wanting, in some small way, to show them the way back, and call them back by name.

Minna Bluff was covered in cloud, so I couldn't use it as a bellwether, but the wind started to pick up and was colder than before, so I thought I should start heading down again.  The correct trail was obvious from this end, and I poked along it for a little way before everything caught up with me and I sat down to have a little cry.

The cross is a historical artefact, and while it is not as plum or as complex as the huts, it still requires conservation.  Alarmed by the degree of erosion on the lettering, the Antarctic Heritage Trust has devised a shell to protect it from the worst of the winter winds.  That will do something, but it has already lost a lot.  When I was up there, I wondered why it hadn't ever been repainted, as the paint would go a long way to protecting it, and when the paint wore off it could just get repainted instead of eating further and further into the wood.  The raw timber is more harmonious with the environment, and I like it better aesthetically that way, as do many others I'm sure – the white cross with black letters in Debenham's photo from 1913 is very stark and artificial in such a magnificent landscape.  But it would last a lot longer.

On the other hand, generations of Antarcticans now have the cross as a touchstone, not only as their link to the history (not everyone gets to visit Cape Evans)  but as a landmark in their own experience of Antarctica.  It was personally important to the men who painted it white and put it up, but it is also personally important to hundreds, if not thousands, of people since then, who have never seen it white and don't know that's how it started, and might see the repainting as a travesty.  If it were to be conserved, to what extent would that go?  Would the letters be re-carved deeper, obliterating what remains of Davies' original work?  At what point does conservation end and adulteration begin?

The alternative is to take down the original and keep it somewhere out of the weather – Scott Base perhaps – and replace it with a replica.  Jarrah is still available, the letters could be carved afresh, it could be the bare wood everyone has known and loved for the last fifty years at least, and the original could be saved from the effects of weather once and for all.  But doesn't this defeat the intent of the original in some way, and make it – dare I say – a Disneyland version?  Do we owe more to history to keep it as it is and let the elements wear it down, or to preserve it as long as possible and do whatever might be necessary to extend the experience and historical understanding of a place, if not its authenticity?

These are all questions that curators and conservators have been grappling with for years, so I leave it to them to make the decisions.  I am grateful to have seen the original, and to have a moment to myself up there to reflect on these things, and more.  I hope, whatever happens with it in the future, Observation Hill is not de-crossed entirely.  How else will they find the way home?