#I can't knit while I watch a new drama or I will miss something

[writingforstraykids]

Always back to you - Chp.5

Pairing: single!dad!Minho x male!Reader (Chanlix | OT8

Word Count: 6696

Summary: Just as everything seems to go well a call from the past messes with Minho's mind. His ex is set on getting her son back, ready to destroy everything you've built.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, date night, yejun's a bitch

A/N: Thank you for all the love so far for little Minjun and his family🤭🖤

PART FOUR | PART SIX

Minho stretches his tired body, glancing over at you in the corner of the room. You're currently taking some calls to sort out Chan's upcoming schedules, and he can't bite back a small smile while watching you. After your fight, Chan made you stay by making you responsible for his own schedule and wanting to keep you around. 

They're taking a short break from practice, and Minho is glad to rest his body for a bit. He glances around the room and frowns as he can't find Minjun and his current assistant. “Y/nnie?” he asks gently as you end your call. “Where's our boy?”

“O-Our-,” you stammer, eyes widening at him. 

The silence that follows is loud. Around the room, heads turn, the abrupt outburst of movement marking a collective interest in the unfolding drama, or rather, the slip of the tongue that Minho just let loose. The members, more or less familiar with the private dynamics slowly simmering between you and Minho, can hardly contain their amusement.

"Did Minho just say 'our boy'?" Jisung repeats, his voice teasing as he nudges Chan with his elbow, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, Minho, since when did Y/nnie and you start sharing custody?” he chimes in, laughter tinting his voice as he looks over at you both, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Minho, usually so composed, feels a warm flush spreading up his neck, coloring his cheeks as he meets your startled gaze. He hadn’t even realized what he'd said until it was echoed back to him, and now, caught in the playful teasing of his friends, he finds himself grappling for a response.

"I just meant—" Minho starts, trying to backpedal, but Felix cuts him off, practically bouncing in his seat with delight.

"Aww, look at him! He’s embarrassed! Minho hyung, it’s cute, really. Embrace the family vibes!" Felix teases, his voice light and teasing.

You, still slightly flustered by Minho’s unexpected inclusivity, try to regain your composure. "Minjun is just with Hyejin," you manage to say, redirecting the conversation to the young boy's whereabouts. They went somewhere else to play. He should be nearby."

Yet, the teasing doesn’t stop there. Throughout the rest of the break, the members throw in casual jokes about family planning and shared parenting. Their banter is light but pointed, a humorous acknowledgment of the evolving relationship dynamics within their circle.

As the laughter and jokes continue, Minho finds himself looking over at you, and something about your shy smile, the way you're trying to hide your own amusement, settles the warmth in him more firmly. It's a reassurance, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t misspeak after all.

As practice resumes and the members scatter back to their positions, Minho pulls you aside for a quick, private word, his expression earnest. "Hey, about earlier," he begins, his tone soft, apologetic. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It just... came out."

You shake your head, dismissing his concern with a gentle smile. "It’s okay, Minho. Really, it was sweet," you assure him, your voice just as soft. "I guess it’s just a bit new to me, but not unwelcome."

Minho’s eyes search yours, looking for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he allows himself a small, relieved smile. "It felt right," he admits. You already feel like family, you know?” 

The word 'family' hangs between you, a weighty yet comforting promise of what’s slowly knitting together. 

"Thank you, Minho," you reply, your heart light, warmed by the sincerity of the moment. "That means a lot to me. I'll go check on him, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, watching you leave. 

As soon as you leave, Changbin asks, “Do you know Minjun's new nickname for Y/nnie?” 

“Huh?” Minho frowns at him, grabbing his bottle of water. 

“He called him his new mum,” he laughs, and Minho's blush deepens. “He also said you're like Lix and Chan hyung.”

“Oh, you can't tell only half of the story,” Jisung protests. He added, “He said you're kissing like Chan and Lix.” 

Minho chokes on his water, tears shooting to his eyes as he coughs. Seungmin pats his back forcefully and starts laughing at him. “He what?” he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. 

“Yeah, he even showed Chan hyung that it's not on the cheek but on the lips,” Changbin snickers. 

Minho blushes furiously before dropping back onto the floor with a groan. “Well, he's not lying,” he says, and his friends start laughing. Minho inhales shakily, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I still don't know if it's a good idea. I don't want to pull him into the public aspect of my life. I'm also not quite sure if I'm what he needs,” he admits, and they all grow quiet again. “There's a lot of bullshit in the back of my mind about what happened with Yejun. I don't feel like I'm enough for Minjun either.”

“Does it feel right being with Y/nnie, though? If everything else wouldn't matter for a second…does it?” Felix asks gently. 

“It does,” he nods. 

“Maybe being with Y/n would help your insecurities regarding Minjun,” Hyunjin reminds him. 

“You wouldn't be the only parent he has then..sort of,” Jeongin agrees. 

Minho hums agreeingly and is about to answer when the door opens. He doesn't have to turn around to identify the small steps echoing on the floor. Minjun closes the distance between them and crawls into his lap, hiding his face in his shirt. Minho frowns and wraps his arms around him as he feels him tremble. “Baby, what's wrong?” he asks worriedly. 

“Hyejin is mean,” he sniffles. Chan looks up and frowns at Minho. 

“Mean?” he asks confused. “Did she say something bad?” Chan asks him gently. 

“She said shut up,” Minjun answers, looking at him with teary eyes. “I just showed her my drawing.”

Minho's heart sinks at how timid he sounds. He cuddles him close and kisses his head. “It's okay, baby. Do you want to show me instead?” he asks soothingly, and Minjun nods. 

“I'll handle it,” Chan promises and gets up quickly.

“Where's your drawing, mate?” Felix asks encouragingly, and Minjun gets up, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve. 

-

Chan leans against the wall in the elevator, watching you cautiously. You two just got back from handling the situation with Minho’s new assistant, who seems hopelessly overwhelmed by taking care of Minjun. “You love him, don't you?” he asks. 

“Minjun?” you ask. 

“No, Min,” he chuckles softly. You remain silent for a moment, almost squirming under Chan's observant gaze. “Do you love him?”

“Why?” you ask quietly. “Would that be an issue?”

Chan tilts his head at you. “As long as you don't hurt him, there's absolutely no issue. I'm just asking because he means a lot to us. Minjun does, too. Minho has been hurt very badly before, and I won't let that happen again.”

“I know; he's scared of getting hurt again,” you nod gently and fidget with your hands. “I do love him. Minjun and he mean a lot to me, and I have no intention of hurting either of them.”

“Okay,” Chan nods gently. “Minjun called you his new mum,” he smirked, and you bit back a laugh. 

“Sounds like him,” you giggle. “Really, Chan, I don't want to be a distraction or anything. I know that's probably easier with you and Felix, but-.”

Chan giggles softly and shakes his head. “Since we're both part of the group, every argument carries a certain risk. I think you being with them takes a lot off Minho's shoulders with Minjun.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and nods gently. “I'll be there if you need anything. I'd rather have you two get some help than get into another argument that lasts for weeks. He doesn't do well with conflict,” he laughs. 

“Me neither,” you laugh. 

“And you're sure you want to take over organizing both of our schedules? With Minjun?” he asks gently. 

“Oh, Minho's schedule can be done whenever he's available. Minjun doesn't feel like a job, and the older he gets, the less he'll be around the whole day,” you chuckle softly. “Also, let's not get ahead of ourselves; Minho and I haven't named our situation yet.”

Chan hums softly. “If it takes too long, let me know,” he smirks, leading you back to the practice room. 

Minjun is sitting on Felix's lap as you enter the room, his drawings spread out on the floor with the others inspecting them closely. He explains them in detail, amusing everyone present with his sweet way to do so. Minho watches him fondly, and looking at him you realize that this soft side of him made him stand out to you in the first place. Chan takes his place next to Felix, hand resting on his thigh naturally as he joins the discussion of Minjun's masterpiece. Minho reaches for your hand, pulling you into his lap and resting his head on your shoulder. You're a little surprised by the sudden display of affection here with the others, but the knowing smiles tell you that not only Chan knows. “What happened with Minjun?” he asks quietly. 

“Hyejin yelled at him. She didn't realize that being your assistant comes with taking care of Minjun properly. She had already refused to play with him, so he told her about his toys and drawings because he was bored, which annoyed her.

“Told you your replacement is shit,” he says quietly enough for only you to hear. 

“Idiot,” you chuckle fondly, smiling as he intertwines your hands. “Well, I'm officially your assistant again. I won't let anyone treat Minjun like that.”

Minho's hold on you tightens. “That's why I trust you with him.” You squeeze his hands lovingly, leaning back against him.

-

Minho giggles stupidly as he watches you stitch up the back of Leebit’s head. You've just spent a while trying to figure out a way to include some of his cologne in the plushie to make it smell like him for Minjun, much to his amusement. 

“You're so easily entertained sometimes,” you roll your eyes at him fondly. Minho circles the table, steps behind you, and wraps his arms around your waist. 

“You're amusing to watch sometimes,” he gives back, kissing your cheek. “But adorable.”

“Well, thanks. Not my fault your son is so attached to you,” you tease him gently, smiling as he runs his hands down your thighs, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Hey, how is the sheer amount of love my son has for me my fault, huh?” he asks, gently squeezing your thighs. “It's not like I'd get what's so special,” he snorts. 

“You're his father, and compared to some other people we won't name here, you're actually there,” you say, and Minho bites back a laugh. You shake your head, focusing on the stitching, though the warmth of Minho's presence makes it hard to concentrate. "I think you underestimate your charm, Minho."

"I could say the same about you," he whispers back, his voice low and affectionate.

As you finish up with Leebit, Minho gently takes it from you, examining your work with an appreciative eye. "Perfect. He won't even notice the fix. You're amazing, Y/nnie."

The praise, sincere and simple, stirs something deep within you, and you find yourself turning to face him, his hands still circled around your waist. "I just don't want him to feel so alone whenever you're gone," you say.

Minho nods, his gaze softening. "You're so sweet. Don't you ever leave us, dear."

"Even when it gets complicated?" you ask, needing to hear his answer. You haven’t been this close to someone in ages, and you know Minho is a lot further than you in a few areas, but his prior hurt can’t be disregarded.

"Especially then," Minho affirms, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "We're in this together, right?"

"Right," you agree, leaning in to kiss him—a sweet, affirming connection that promises more than words could.

-

The ring of Minho’s phone cuts through the quiet of his living room. Glancing at the caller ID, his stomach tightens uncomfortably; Yejun’s name flashes across the screen, bringing with it a cascade of unwelcome emotions.

He hesitates for a moment before picking up. “Yejun.”

“Minho,” her voice comes through, falsely cheerful. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Minjun. I want to take him to the U.S. with me for a while. Just a trip. It could be good for him.”

Minho’s grip on the phone tightens, his other hand balling into a fist at his side. Did she already forget the debacle from last time?  “Yejun, we’ve talked about this. Minjun doesn’t want that. Not without me.”

There’s a pause, and when she speaks again, her tone has cooled significantly. “You just don’t want to let me have him,” she says.

“That’s not it,” Minho replies, struggling to keep his voice even. “It’s about what he needs. And right now, he needs stability, something you walking in and out of his life doesn’t provide. Especially not after last time.”

Yejun’s laugh is sharp, biting. “Oh, now you’re the perfect father, huh? Wasn’t so perfect when we were married. Always away, always working. You were a shit husband, Minho.”

The words sting more than Minho likes to admit. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that his being away often hadn’t been the core issue. “I was not perfect,” he continues, the weight of their failed marriage always a tender wound. “And I am sorry for my part in what happened between us. But this isn’t about us, Yejun. It’s about Minjun.”

Silence stretches on the other end before Yejun’s voice cracks through, icy and menacing. “You’re keeping my son from me, Minho. You might fool everyone else with your doting father act, but I know the truth. I know who you really are.”

“You don't know shit, Yejun,” he says firmly. “You haven't been there for the past four years. Don't act like you know anything about me and my relationship with Minjun.”

“It doesn't matter if it's true or not if someone else believes me,” she says lowly. 

Minho feels a chill run down his spine. “Yejun, please. Let’s not do this. If you want to see Minjun, you can visit here and spend time with him where he’s comfortable. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

“Fair?” Yejun spits the word out like it tastes bitter. “You expect me just to accept scraps of time with my own son? You’ve turned him against me, Minho.”

“That’s not true. Minjun is old enough to know what he wants. And right now, he doesn’t want to go with you,” Minho insists, his voice firm. “He’s happy here, with his life here.”

There’s a venomous pause before Yejun’s voice lowers, a dark promise threading through her words. “You may have won this little round, Minho, but this isn’t over. I will have my son back. And I’ll destroy your life if I have to for taking him away from me. I’ll make you pay yourself stupid once I take him back in.”

“You chose to go away. You handed over full custody to me; technically, I could make sure you never see him again, which I don't because that's bullshit. But don't twist things,” Minho’s heart races with a mix of anger and fear—anger at her threats and fear of what she might be capable of. “Yejun, don’t do this. Don’t make threats. Let’s try to handle this like adults, for Minjun’s sake.”

Yejun’s laugh is cold, devoid of any real humor. “Oh, honey. This is just the beginning. I left because I had to, not because I wanted to. You made our life impossible. Remember that.”

With a click, she hangs up, leaving Minho staring at his phone, her words echoing in his head. He slumps back into the sofa, the weight of the call settling over him like a heavy blanket.

After a few moments of stunned silence, he stands, pacing the living room. The threat Yejun posed was not just to his tranquility but to Minjun’s well-being. He knew he couldn’t take her words lightly. Yejun was unpredictable, and if her past actions were any indication, she was capable of following through on her threats.

He needed to be proactive. First, he would need to talk to his legal team about securing his custody of Minjun, ensuring that Yejun couldn’t just take him without consent. Then, he would need to sit down with Minjun and prepare him, just in case Yejun tried to contact him directly.

By the time you arrive back home with Minjun, he is mentally exhausted but knows the day is far from over.

Minjun greets him with a smile and runs into his arms the moment he reaches him. “Daddy! I'm home!”

Minho hugs him tightly, lifting him up and spinning him around, Minjun’s laughter a balm to his frayed nerves. Setting him down, he kneels before him, looking into his son’s eyes. “Buddy, we need to talk about something important,” he begins, his voice soft but serious.

Minjun’s face sobers, sensing the gravity in his father’s tone. “Is everything okay, Daddy?”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Minho reassures, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We just have some things to sort out, you and I. But no matter what, we’re together in this. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Minjun nods, trust shining in his eyes.

As you sit down together, Minho’s heart swells with love for his son. No matter what Yejun threatened, he would protect Minjun and ensure his happiness. They were a team, and together, they could face anything - even this.

Minho fills you in quietly later as Minjun is playing on the carpet not far from you. Your heart sinks at her threats, and you almost feel sorry for her twisted view of what happened. That couldn't be healthy. 

-

Minho’s sleep is uneasy, his dreams filled with vague, unsettling images. He awakes with a start to the intrusive buzzing of his phone. He reaches out groggily, the glow from the screen harsh against the dim light of early morning. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Minho’s gaze settles on a flood of notifications—missed calls, texts, and several urgent notifications from various news apps.

As he scrolls through them, a cold knot forms in his stomach. Each message seems to echo the same shocking revelation: “Yejun reveals Minho is dating his son’s babysitter!” and “Questions arise over Minho’s capabilities as a parent!” His heart pounds as he reads snippets of articles, each one painting him in an increasingly unfavorable light.

Beside him, you stir, your brow furrowing in sleep. Minho’s first instinct is to protect you from the storm that is about to break. He slips out of bed, his mind racing as he tries to process the information. How had things spiraled out of control so quickly? He knew Yejun was bitter about their past, but to go this far was something he hadn't anticipated.

He paces the room, his phone almost slipping from his sweaty palm as he tries to call Chan, his first person to turn to when his public life's falling apart. Chan had a way of handling these situations that made him feel safe. After several rings, a groggy voice answers.

“Min? It’s...what time is it?” Chan sounds disoriented, but he snaps to attention as soon as Minho begins to speak.

“I'm sorry for waking you, Channie hyung,” he says quietly, feeling a little guilty for disrupting his already fucked sleep schedule. 

Chan sits up at the timid sound of his voice. Minho doesn't call him ‘Channie hyung’ often; It's usually when he's feeling anxious or very thankful about something. He doubts it's the latter. “Minnie, what's wrong?” he asks gently, slipping out of bed to let Felix keep sleeping. 

“Channie, it’s all over the news. Yejun... she told them about Y/nnie and me. She said I can’t take care of Minjun properly. It’s a mess,” Minho’s voice is a mix of anger and desperation.

“What?!” Chan’s voice suddenly becomes sharp and angry. “She did what? Hold on, I’m checking this now.”

Silence fills the line for a few moments before Chan speaks again, his voice icy. “I see it. This is bullshit, Minho. She’s crossed a line. I’m calling the PR team. We need to handle this swiftly.”

“Thanks, hyung. I...I don’t know what to do,” Minho confesses, running a hand through his hair. His heart feels like it is being squeezed in his chest, the anxiety making it hard to breathe.

“Just stay put and try to keep calm. I’ll handle the media part. You just... make sure Y/nnie is okay. He's going to be dragged into this mess too,” Chan advises, his voice calm, but Minho can hear the underlying strain.

Minho nods, though Chan can’t see it. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Thanks, Channie, seriously.”

“Always, mate. We’re in this together,” Chan reassures him before hanging up.

-

Minho slipped out of the house quietly soon after, relieved that Minjun and you were still peacefully asleep. He needs to clear his head to handle everything calmly, and Chan will be busy for a while now. 

Minho steps into the practice room and stretches his tired body, warming up. He turns on the music a little more quietly than usual and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths as he prepares his body for the usual strain of dancing. 

He grabs his phone after a while and swallows hard. It isn't just the messages or missed calls—it's headlines, the kind that blur the lines between personal and public in the most invasive ways. “Stray Kids’ Minho’s Ex-Wife Claims Neglect—Says He’s Too Busy Dating Babysitter to Care for Son.” The words are crafted to scandalize, and they do their job perfectly.

The news is spreading fast, and with each passing minute, the narrative is slipping further from his control. Yejun had not only threatened him in private but also taken her grievances to the most public domain possible. The implications were catastrophic, affecting not just him but also Minjun and you, who had been nothing but supportive and loving towards both him and his son.

Minho gets lost in their newest choreo, moving his body precisely to the music, and tries to stop thinking about it for a while. Chan finds him there about an hour later, turning the music off as the song ends. “Thought I'd find you here.”

Minho pants softly and grabs the towel Chan holds out for him, wiping his face. “Needed to clear my head.”

The room is silent, heavy with unsaid words, until Chan finally speaks, his voice tight with anger and concern. “This is messed up, Min. She can’t just throw you to the wolves like this.”

Minho sighs, rubbing his temples. “I know, but she’s doing it anyway. She’s making it all public and dragging Y/n into it, too. It’s getting out of hand, and I’m worried about what this is doing to Minjun.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, and his protectiveness over his friend is evident. “We’ll fix this, okay? I talked to the PR team to see how we can counteract these claims. And I’m here, whatever you need.”

Minho looks up, startled as the door opens and Felix steps inside, followed by the rest of their closest friends. “Sorry, we're a little late.”

They all gather on the floor next to Minho and Chan, reassuringly patting his back as they do. “Let's deal with this bitch once and for all,” Jisung says firmly, feeling the need to protect little Minjun from this mess. 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Seungmin asks, glancing at Chan questioningly. 

“Everyone of us will publish a statement; I already talked that through. Minho shouldn't have any issues proving he's the one worthy of custody in case she snaps and takes him to court. Hyunjin, Innie, you have an interview coming up; be prepared for dumb questions.”

“I'll make them look stupid instead,” Hyunjin grins, pulling a weak laugh from Minho. 

“Have you talked to your parents yet?” Jeongin asks Minho, who shakes his head. 

“I forgot about that,” he admits, already searching for his phone. 

“Might be a good idea to clear things up with them first,” Changbin agrees. 

“Whatever happens, we have your back,” Felix promises.

“Thank you guys, really. Just…if you find ways to ease Y/nnie with this, I'd be grateful. He's not exactly prepared for the public’s shit as we are.”

“Of course,” Chan assures him. “Now go call your parents.”

The support is reassuring, but the problem looms large and unyielding. As the day progresses, you come to find Minho, your expression fraught with worry. Seeing you so distressed adds another layer of guilt to Minho’s already heavy conscience.

“Hey,” he says softly as you hand over Minjun to Jisung, who leaves you some space. 

“Hey,” you echo, swallowing hard. “Minho, maybe I should just leave,” you suggest hesitantly, the words paining you even as they leave your lips. “If I’m not around, she won’t have another reason to attack you like this.”

Minho looks up sharply, his eyes locking with yours. “Y/n, no. Leaving won’t fix this. It’s not your presence that’s the problem—it’s Yejun. And I’m not going to let her chase you away. You mean too much to me, to Minjun.”

Your eyes fill with tears, touched by his words but still shaken by the rapid unraveling of your quiet life. “But Minho, this is getting so big. What if it affects Minjun more than it already has? What if your career—”

He shakes his head, hands finding yours. “Look, whatever happens, we face it together. Yejun is trying to isolate us and make us feel weak by dividing us. I won’t let her. I love you, Y/nnie, and I need you to know that.”

The affirmation, so heartfelt and desperate, breaks through your resolve to distance yourself. You nod, squeezing his hands back, finding strength in his conviction.

“We’ll deal with this,” Minho continues, his voice firm despite the chaos around you. “I’ll talk to the lawyers, and see what legal avenues we have to protect ourselves and Minjun. And Chan is right—we’ll work with the PR team to set the record straight.”

True to his word, Minho arranged meetings with his legal team, and together with the public relations department, they began crafting a response that would address the allegations head-on. Chan was a constant presence, offering both strategic advice and moral support, and his friendship was a steady force in the tumult.

As the week progressed, strategies were implemented. The company issued a statement denouncing the unfounded accusations and highlighting Minho’s dedication as a father, accompanied by testimonials from colleagues and friends outside the group who vouched for his character and his role in Minjun’s life.

Yet, despite the countermeasures, the shadow of the scandal lingered. The press was relentless, and the public's appetite for celebrity drama was insatiable. Minho found himself scrutinizing every decision and every interaction with Minjun and you, aware that the eyes of the world were now critically watching.

Minho asked you to move in with them so it'd be easier for him to keep you safe. It didn't change much for you since you've been staying over a lot already and barely went back home. So, of course, you said yes. 

Two months later 

Felix's birthday is just around the corner, and you're almost a little surprised when he comes to you to invite you all. He giggles at your stunned look and tilts his head at you. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I'm just…did you ask Min?” you ask nervously. 

“No,” Felix shakes his head. “He's busy right now, and I'm inviting you as you are part of his and, therefore, our family.”

“Oh,” you nod gently, a shy smile covering your lips. “Sure, I'd love to be there,” you nod. “I bet Minjun would love it as well, and Minho will surely be there.”

“Lovely,” he smiles and gives you a gentle hug. 

Minho later walks in, Minjun sitting on his shoulders with a wide grin. “Y/nnie!” Minjun shouts and waves at you. “Look, I'm tall!”

“Oh yeah, you're really tall now, buddy!” you assure him. 

Minho giggles softly, stopping in front of you and greeting you with a soft kiss. “Hey there,” he says fondly. 

“Hey,” you smile back at him. “Ready to go home?” you ask, and Minho hums softly. 

“Minjun is staying over at Chan and Felix's tonight,” he says, and you frown at him, surprised. 

“The whole night?” you ask, and Minho hums agreeing. Over the past two months, you've been letting Minjun stay with all of the boys for a few hours each. It helped him grow less dependent on Minho, and he became more confident about staying somewhere else for a while. Minjun seemed happy, and Minho was more than glad. It allowed you all to grow together. “What's the occasion?” you ask curiously. Chan and Felix had been the ones Minjun loved staying with a lot. Chan once told Minho how much Felix loved having him around, and so the two of them made sure their boyfriend and son got what they loved. 

“Maybe I just want to take you out for dinner without having to glance at the time,” he smiles softly, letting Minjun down as he spots his beloved ‘Changnin’. Minho’s hands find your waist, eyes growing soft the longer he looks at you. “Maybe I want to kiss you stupid after without worrying about a certain someone bursting in and going ‘eww’.”

You giggle softly at the memory of Minjun catching Minho kissing you a little more passionately than he'd do in front of him. “Sounds lovely,” you chuckle. 

Minho hums gently, searching your eyes as if he doesn't know if he should keep talking or not. “Maybe…Maybe I'd be ready to take the next step,” he says, and your eyes widen. “No pressure or anything, though. Just..if it feels right if we're both comfortable tonight…I think I'm ready.”

You can't bite back the giddy smile covering your lips. Over the months you've been with Minho, you have never gone much further than kissing. He once covered your neck with loving little bites, but you didn't get much further with Minjun, only a few doors further. You've been able to tell how Minho grew a little impatient every time things were developing into something more, but there was simply no chance you two could take the time you'd need for your first time together with a child around the house. “You're sure?” you ask gently, and Minho nods. 

“I'm sure, my love,” he says sweetly, making your stomach flutter already. 

“I love you, Min,” you whisper, watching his eyes sparkle with joy. 

“I love you too, Y/nnie,” he says softly. “Come on, let's make sure Minjun is with Chan and Felix,” Minho suggests with a playful nudge, guiding you toward them. 

Felix is already fooling around with Minjun, and Chan is watching them fondly. “Are you ready to go?” Chan asks as you reach them. 

“Yeah, everything is done,” Minho nods, smirking at Minjun. “Are you ready to stay with Lix and Channie?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods happily, and Minho crouches down in front of him.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah? Uncle Channie will take you to the studio with him if you want to,” he tells him, gently squeezing his little hands. “Be good, yeah? No discussions about bedtime either, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods eagerly and tightly hugs him goodbye. “I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too, dumpling,” Minho smiles and kisses his cheek, gently brushing back his curls. 

You gently rest your hand on his shoulder, silently reminding him to let go of him. It’s also the first night for Minho without his boy since Yejun left. Minho does, and Minjun’s hugging you goodbye tightly. Chan chuckles softly, noticing Minho’s worried frown. “I’ll return him intact, I promise,” he winks at him, and Minho relaxes with a chuckle. 

Felix lifts up Minjun, smiling reassuringly at Minho. “We’ll take good care of him,” he tells him.

“I know,” he assures them gently. “Just new for me as well,” he laughs, gently poking Minjun’s cheek. “Be good, yeah?”

“You too,” he says, making everyone giggle. 

Minho rolls his eyes fondly, winking at him. “Yeah, okay.” His hand finds yours as they leave, and you squeeze it softly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s growing up way too fast,” he chuckles with a soft sigh. 

“Mhm, yeah, I can’t believe you saying this either,” you snort teasingly.

“Shut up, will you?” he laughs, gently shoving your side. “Alright, let’s go,” he gives himself a push.

The two of you reach his car outside the building. As you both settle in, a sense of nervous excitement fills the air - a mixture of anticipation for the evening ahead and the deep emotional connection that has grown between you two. 

Back at home, the two of you get ready, and you let Minho match your outfits since he has a way better eye for what’s needed in public. You barely got used to people taking pictures of him when you were only his assistant, but now you had to excel yourself as his boyfriend. Minho does his best to make you feel comfortable and look presentable for pictures whenever you’re out together. Once he’s done, he hums to himself happily, smacking your butt lovingly. Typical.

The drive is quiet but comfortable, filled with shared glances and soft smiles, each exchange weaving a deeper layer of intimacy. As you arrive at the restaurant, Minho’s hand finds yours, his grip reassuring and warm. You soon blend out the people around you, focusing on him only. This isn’t very hard to do because something about Minho caught your attention long before you started dating. 

Minho is more relaxed lately now that the whole mess with Yejun is settled. All of his friends repeatedly spoke out for him, and two weeks ago, Minho attended a press conference dealing with the matter. You know that hadn’t been easy for him, but he had been rather open and honest, making sure all the rumors were addressed and settled. He also made sure to clarify that you’ve been working for him for years, slowly taking more and more care of Minjun and growing closer with him in the process. She did her best to take him back to court, but looking at the circumstances, it only benefited Minho, who refused all of the payments she’d have to make for dragging his name through dirt and spreading lies.

After dinner, Minho suggests a walk, and you wander through a nearby park adorned with twinkling lights and soft shadows. You stop beneath a street lantern, its soft glow painting the scene in an almost magical light. Minho turns to you, his eyes reflecting the twinkling lights, his face etched with tenderness.

“Y/nnie,” he begins, his voice a whisper of emotion. “Being with you has made me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I feel like I can finally breathe like I’m more myself than I’ve ever been.” You listen, your heart swelling with each word, the sincerity in his voice anchoring the swirling emotions inside you. “And I want to share everything with you. Not just the dinners or the walks, or the laughs we have with Minjun. I want to share all the moments, even those we’ve yet to live,” he continues, his hand reaching up to gently caress your cheek. “I love you so much, and I’ll be there as long as you let me.”

The emotional weight of his words pulls you closer, and you find your lips meeting in a kiss that speaks volumes. It’s tender at first, explorative, and as if each of you is memorizing the feel of the other. The kiss deepens; it grows more passionate, fueled by the months of growing love and restrained desire.

Minho’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. His hands trace the lines of your back, pressing you into his warmth. You respond in kind, weaving your hands into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it’s all that exists in the world - the two of you, beneath the warm lights, lost in each other.

Eventually, the need for air forces you apart, but only slightly. Foreheads pressed together, breathing mingled, you share a quiet laugh - a moment of pure happiness and mutual understanding.

“Let’s go home?” you ask gently, and he hums in response.

The walk back to the car is filled with easy silence, which is comfortable and reassuring. Once home, Minho leads you to your bedroom, his hand steady in yours, a silent promise of what’s to come - a night of exploring, of loving, of affirming the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His lips entangle yours in a passionate kiss as he silently closes the door behind you. The back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and you both drop down into it. Minho hovers over you, eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration and love. He’s bracing himself next to your head, caging your legs in with his knees, and leans down, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss. His body moves on its own, searching yours, and the minute your hands find his hips, he lowers himself onto his elbows, closing the distance between your bodies. “Shit,” he mutters against your lips as you arch into him.

You reach down, testing the waters and palming him through his pants. Minho’s hips stutter, a soft moan leaving him, head dropping against your shoulder. “Minho?” you ask softly, noticing how desperately his body reacts to your every touch without him even fully realizing it. “When was the last time you had some time for yourself…like this?”

Minho laughs, planting a row of gentle kisses against your neck. “My sweet love, you have no idea,” he chuckles. “Remember that clingy kid of mine?” he asks, making you laugh as well. 

“Right,” you giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“Just tell me what you need, love; I’ll do it,” Minho promises gently, smiling down at you fondly. “We have time.”

Minho’s whispered promise lingers in the air, the warmth of his smile making your heart flutter. The room feels isolated from the world, a private sanctuary where the past complexities and external pressures fade into the background. Here, it’s just the two of you, bound by an intimacy that has deepened with each shared struggle and joy.

You guide his hand beneath your shirt, letting him explore your bare skin. Your breath hitches as he follows your silent directions with attentive care. Minho’s touch is skilled, a perfect blend of tender and assured, driven by his desire to bring you comfort and pleasure. His eyes never leave yours, seeking confirmation and encouragement, his own desire mirrored in the deepening blush of your cheeks.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. His fingertips trace patterns along the waistband of your trousers that leave you breathless.

“More than okay,” you manage to reply, your voice a whisper caught between sighs. The room fills with the sound of your intertwined breaths, a testament to the closeness that both of you cherish.

Minho’s movements become more purposeful. His free hand cradles your face, his thumb caressing your jawline as he watches the effects of his actions reflected in your expressions. The world narrows down to the shifting shadows cast by the dim light, the soft bedding beneath you, and the man who has come to mean so much. He has barely touched you and you’re already melting into a puddle. How the hell would you survive this?

PART FOUR | PART SIX

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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[joanofexys]

i honestly feel really really guilty about the way i left my previous fandom. i was in both the acotar and aftg fandom (and a bit of the capri fandom) when i deactivated 3 years ago but i was mostly in the acotar fandom. and one night i couldn't do it anymore. i felt really detached from everyone and everything in my life. the fandom drama was really bad. my group of online friends felt like they were all closer than i was with them and it felt like none of them like me. and the really big thing. i was lying about everything. my age. my name. my family. my friends. my entire life. it was all made up. and i committed to it hard. because i was a dumbass 13 year old desperate to fit in with a fandom full of adults. and one way or another i had to leave. and ultimately i think it's a good thing that i just cut everyone off with no warning but i feel really guilty. and i hope none of them think about me even though i still think of them. because i don't need them wondering what happened to me or why i decided to ghost them all. and sometimes i can't help but check in. and i even made a new account at one point and made a few posts. and checked in on a few people. and then i regretted it immediately. and i can never take what i did back. and it's better that i never reach out. and i don't really miss any of it. moreso the experiences i had and the friendships i made rather than the specifics. i miss being that close with people and sharing the tight knit community within fandom that we all had. and i feel like it's something i'll never achieve again. that i'll never have those kind of friendships in fandom. the groupchats and the video calls and the gift giving. i just don't really know how to get myself in fandom again rather than feeling like i'm on the outskirts watching everyone be friends while i randomly chime into the conversation with a comment that makes the room go silent. i don't know how to talk to people. i don't know what counts as a friendship or how to maintain it. what's fandom friends vs actual friends and if there's really a difference. if people really mean it when they say we can just chat and it doesn't have to solely be about fandom. i feel like i left a piece of me in that fandom, on that account, with all those people three years ago and i'll never get it back. that part of me is theirs to keep and i'm glad they have it. but i'm also not quite sure what to do without it.

[lucymontero]

So I realize as I am rewatching W that the reason I fell down the Lee Jong Suk rabbit hole now was because I was watching the new Lee Min Ho drama, King The Eternal Monarch, and was thinking “Ah, parallel universe and figuring it out. This is kind of like W.” But obviously I would not jump to watching W because I am going to watch I Hear Your Voice  first because it is much better. But now I have been through Pinnoccio and IHYV and we’re in W  and oh my GOD!  Why is this poor man constantly being cast as a traumatized orphan with eventual amnesia?

Also - HE SHOT HER. It never fails to piss me off. But seriously, LJS went through a tortured orphan phase and it was quite intense.

Also the first rule of parallel universes is that you WILL end up incarcerated. This poor girl. Lee Min Ho managed to get out pretty quickly but I just remembered that LJS in W is going to force her to write herself out of his memory and she ends up stuck in the comic and starving and yeesh W is a LOT.

I could see a dramedy with a cell full of people who all ended up there because of having no identity.

[wingedcat13]

Synovus: Villains Never Retire (3)

[Another day, another installment, another piece of evidence I can't resist a good monologue. Warnings for this week include more graphic descriptions of drowning, 80s TV references, and Synovus putting their foot in it. Repeatedly. See you in part four!]

[New here? See the start of the series or a part you missed here. As per usual, this chapter is also up on Ao3.]

‘Moping’ is, in your opinion, a highly underrated art form.

There are those who prefer the drama of the romantics; sighing and draping themselves over surfaces in elegant dismay. There are the hermits: creating a den and retiring to it until someone is brave enough to drag them, kicking and screaming, from a pile of blankets and misery. There are the students of the tantrum, who follow the subject of their distress in a very not-purposeful-certainly-not way to be pointedly fine or vaguely annoyed in their periphery.

You ascribe to none of these three schools. No, when you are upset, you become a spider.

Not literally - shapeshifting has never been one of your gifts - but in nearly every other way. You scuttle away from interaction with others, create stashes of supplies in hidden spaces, and watch the world from a dark corner or rafter.

You’re usually willing to admit it’s a bit of a juvenile response, to go brood and watch your minions at work. It’s never stopped you, though.

Your minions are used to such behaviors - enough that even if one of them does manage to spot you perched twenty feet up on a steel beam, they don’t acknowledge it. If you don’t move for more than four hours, sometimes they’ll send someone to make sure you haven’t died.

(Usually, it’s Oflok. She throws snacks at you to make sure you’ve eaten something. If they get really worried, they send Doll to try and coax you down.)

(Doll is still on vacation, so you figure you can get away with this for two more days at least.)

At least you aren't vying for space - neither Alexandria nor Minerva seem to share your proclivities. You haven’t seen either often: it’s easier to move from one room to the next via the maintenance hatches than to risk an awkward confrontation when you do spot them.

(No, you aren’t hiding from your guests in your own home. That would be ridiculous. You have nothing to be ashamed of.)

Still, there are signs that neither has quite forgiven you for what they’d learned at the meeting, now three days ago.

You'd passed through the training room yesterday to find it absolutely trashed - the dummies shredded by a sharp point, and a spear lodged in one reinforced wall. Minerva, then.

Your birthday gift to Alexandria, a custom Lego model of the ancient library she’d named herself after, is still sitting partially constructed in your lair’s library - meaning she hadn’t worked on it in several days. You’d helped her with the early stages before getting sidetracked by explaining some of the various theories you’d heard over the years about potential relics recovered from it or supposed secrets it was burned to conceal.

Personally, you were considering taking up knitting again. Or perhaps embroidery? It would depend on how much you felt like stabbing something.

---

It was while you were trying to recall how to properly set a purl stitch, that you finally overheard something you shouldn’t’ve.

You’d settled into the cross of two support beams in the mess hall to work on it. Between your costume and the fact that you were up above the hanging lights, it wasn’t even necessary to use your shadows to hide. Even the yarn you were using - a very deep purple- wasn’t likely to give you away, unless you dropped the skein.

Below you, a few of your minions were gathered at one of the tables, talking again about the turmoil on the mainland while they played cards. None of them seemed worried, exactly, just… slightly unnerved. You weren’t really focused on following the conversation.

You did hear, however, when Rosie stood up from the table and called, “Doll!”

You paused in the process of carefully undoing your last failed stitch, and leaned forwards to get a better view. Yes, that was Doll, half-jogging up the steps. He wasn’t due back for a few more days. You had a sinking suspicion you knew why he was back early.

“Rosie!” He returned, spreading his arms wide for a hug. There were a few moments of overlapping greetings and welcomings, his nickname interspersed with his real first name, Andrei. Chairs were shuffled, cards were reshuffled, and then he was dealt into the game.

“So.” He asked, as the group finally settled, “What’s got all of you so worried, hm?”

There was a mass exchanging of glances. Some of them were directed upwards, but none of them spotted you. You couldn’t see Doll’s face now that he'd sat down, but you could hear the slight grimace when he said, “If you cannot speak of it, you should have called me back earlier.”

“It’s not that,” Heather murmured, shaking her head, “it’s… well, we’re not entirely sure either.”

Theo was stretched out on a bench, rather than playing. “Syn got called to another meeting.”

“They are retired.” Doll said, as though that were an answer.

Heather shrugged, “I don’t think they were expecting it either. Anyway - Menace went with them.”

“She’s okay.” Rosie clarified, before Doll could stand. You could see her lay a hand on his arm from here. “No one was hurt. But Athena went with them, too.”

“In the new costume Syn made.” Oflok was definitely grinning. You contemplated throwing a knitting needle at her.

“That sounds like a good thing, rather than a…” Doll trailed off, making a vague circling gesture with one hand.

Rosie sighed, “Well, it would’ve been. But none of them have talked to each other since they’ve been back.”

Heather shook her head, “I’m used to having Syn destroy a training room every so often - but if Athena keeps this up, I’m going to run out of training dummy materials.”

“And Alexandria’s been spending most of her time in the sky, too.” Rosie noted. “And that’s after she’s weeded the garden for me and dug a new irrigation channel.”

“And Syn?” Doll asked.

“Skulking.” One of them mutters.

Doll laid his cards down. “Angry-skulk or emotional-skulk.”

You aren’t sure which they would’ve answered (and were slightly mortified they talked about this enough to have a commonly understood difference), as, about that time, Alexandria drifted up over the railing of the stairway.

“Doll!” She cried, smiling broadly.

“Menace!” He returned, just as cheerfully as he had when greeting Rosie. He stood to go offer her a hug - and didn’t notice or care that Oflok swiped his cards as soon as he turned away.

“I didn’t think you would be back for a while.” Alexandria said, once she’d gingerly extricated herself from the hug.

Doll shrugged, “What can I say, hm? I missed the sun.”

Alexandria chuckled, but her heart wasn’t quite in it. She moved forward, towards the table, and out of your line of sight. “Doll, can I… talk to you?”

There must have been some exchanging of glances or other signal, because your minions abruptly dispersed.

Oflok stood first, dropping a hand onto Heather’s shoulder and declaring, “I need someone to cut things. You’re helping.”

Theo, eager to dodge the same fate, had swung upright, “Oh, hey, that update should be about finished.”

“Fair Lady, those carrots should be about ripe. Want me to see if I can find ten of them that are ready?” Rosie offered.

“Better be at least twelve or don’t bother.”

The three of them moved off towards the kitchen, bickering about how long a carrot needed to be to be useful for whatever Oflok was planning. Theo ambled out a side door, and caught two more who might’ve otherwise wandered in.

When the door had closed, and it was just Doll and Alexandria (and you hidden in the rafters), you heard Alexandria say quietly, “I didn’t mean to drive them away.”

“You didn’t.” Doll assured her, “I did. I just got back from traveling, and I don’t want to have to move from this chair.”

Alexandria made no response to that, but she did sit.

There was a beat of silence, while Doll gathered the cards everyone else had left behind, and reshuffled them again out of habit.

"Why did you kidnap me?" Alexandria asked.

Doll sounded relatively unruffled as he replied, "Because Syn asked me to."

"Asked?"

"Told, if you want to be specific, but I could have refused without much trouble. They don't force us to do things, to work for them."

"Why did Synovus want me kidnapped?" The corner of a light blocked her face, but you could see one hand curled into a fist, resting on the tabletop.

"Because we needed to keep your parents busy for a few hours." Doll continued shuffling the cards, occasionally fanning them or bridging them in tricks that you knew were a sign of anxiety. One of few tics and tells he had.

"Why did you need to keep Athena and Legionnaire busy?"

Doll hesitated, and Alexandria added, more heatedly, "And don't tell me you can't talk about it, I know about the deal with Gray Gangster."

"If you did, you would know why." Doll returned, sounding annoyed. His tone gentled as he continued, "You should really ask Synovus, if you want the full story."

"No thanks. I want the truth, not to be lied to." There was a bitterness there. You managed not to flinch.

Doll set the cards down, and folded his arms. "Alexandria. What is this really about?"

"What do you mean 'what is this about'? This is about why I was dragged out of my bed to an island in the middle of nowhere, essentially as bait!"

"You have had over a year to be upset about this." Doll remarked. "And while I do not mean that you cannot be upset about it - I would be, I think - I mean that I think there is a reason you bring this up now, when you haven't before. A reason it is eating at you."

There was another moment of silence, which you silently interpreted as a staring contest. Alexandria must've lost, because when she spoke again, it was quieter.

"Is all of this... did Synovus do this just to.. to get at my parents?"

Your grip tightened on the knitting needles until you could've snapped them in half. Of course that's what she would've assumed, but your own stupid promises -

"Fuck no." Doll said, and he sounded like he was trying to downplay how offended he actually was. "We kidnapped you to preserve the Right of Rivalry, sure, but after? That was never part of any plan."

"That you know of." Alexandria countered. "They could've -"

"Let me make one thing clear for you, Alexandria." Doll said firmly, "You are right. It is entirely possible that Synovus had plans none of us knew about. Half the time I don't even understand the plans they do explain. But if you ask me a question and then counter it with hypotheticals, I don't think you cared about how I answered at all."

Another silence.

Doll sighed, "Synovus is not a kind person." He said. "But they are not a monster. The difference is that their mercies are invisible - because they are almost always a matter of restraint."

That, at least, prods a bit of curiosity out of Alexandria, "What do you mean?"

Doll picked up the cards again, shuffled them one last time, and began to deal. "You went to a meeting. Who all was there?"

"Tallflawes, Gray Gangster, Dr. Wraith, Unwritten, Chanter, Galactic Prodigy, and two people with wings I didn't recognize."

"Ibis and Vulture." Doll supplied, "That's most of the usual set. You are an observant girl. Why would so many powerful villains gather in one place?"

"Mostly, it seemed like they wanted to argue about territory rights."

"And why would they do so, peacefully?"

Alexandria shrugged, "Because it's in their best interest to, I guess? That way they don't waste time fighting each other, and can better hold off any heroes who come for them?"

Doll hummed, "You are forgetting something. Every supervillain, and that is what all of those people are, has an ego larger than the moon."

Alexandria snorted.

"They don't make concessions well. At least, not publicly. Not to each other. And most of them are worried about getting stabbed in the back on a moment's notice."

"They seemed pretty well organized, from what I saw. Tallflawes must be pretty intimidating when she wants to be."

"Tallflawes?" Doll paused, in the way he normally did when raising an eyebrow and expecting you to reconsider your statement. "No. Tallflawes did not create that structure. Synovus did."

"Synovus?"

"I know - they seem so anti-authoritarian most days. And you'll notice there is no official leader to that group, only whoever winds up hosting. For a long time, that was here."

Alexandria seemed to turn that information over. "They said something... I asked about the rules, and what happened if someone broke them."

"Synovus happened." Doll agreed. "I've seen it, once or twice. It's not a pretty thing. But they were warned, and a threat isn't a threat if you never follow through."

"When we got there, Tallflawes said something about, about saying words and living them. Rosie said something like that, when I was here before?"

"'If you cannot hold yourself to your oaths, I will.'" Doll recited. He shivered, "I have never worried about Synovus turning on one of us. But I admit... I do sometimes still have dreams about that day. Dreams I'd rather forget."

"So then... all of the Rights, the meetings, all of it... was because they were scared of Synovus?"

"Not all of it - most of it just made sense, like you said about the not wasting effort. And not everything is ritualized either. Villains aren't big on rules, as a whole, you know?"

Alexandria confessed, "I was kinda surprised they had so many."

Doll shook his head, "There are only three. The Right of Parley, which is the agreement for a ceasefire at meetings. The Right of Privacy, which means that if you try to steal someone else's secrets, they can retaliate without consequence. And the Right of Rivalry."

"Which is... Supervillain dibs?"

"More or less. It keeps them from stepping on each others' toes. Imagine if more than one group had showed up at your house that night - chaos!"

Alexandria had a card in hand now, and was slowly turning it over, cycling it against the tabletop. "Doll." She said slowly, "Is that... almost what happened?"

Doll sighed, "If it had been Gray Gangster's men at your house that night, Menace, it would not have been to kidnap you."

"You mean they would've...?"

You had had enough of hiding in the rafters. "He had plans for a bomb."

Both Doll and Alexandria flinched and looked up. You took the time to stash your knitting where it wouldn't fall, then dropped down.

"He had plans for a bomb." You repeated, "And wanted to know if I thought it would work on Athena and Legionnaire. Because he had a prison break planned, and they couldn't be allowed to intervene."

Neither of them could see your expression behind the helmet, but you didn't bother trying to hide the weariness in your voice. "He had plans for a bomb, and he was only bothering to tell me, because they were my rivals."

Alexandria looked somewhat upset to see you - though that might've been because of your 'entrance' - but she wanted the answers more. Enough she didn't turn and leave, at least. "But he didn't use it."

"No." You agreed. "Because I told him that I had plans of my own for that day, and if he interfered with them, I would tear him apart. And when he left, I scrambled to find something that would make it true."

There was another moment of silence. Just as it would've stretched into uncomfortably long, Alexandria spoke again, "So, what you said about Rosie, before..."

"That part is true." You confirmed, "It was just happenstance that the doctor was in the same prison. But I had sworn not to talk about Rosie's cancer with anyone, and until she released me of that oath, I couldn't even tell you that."

“And now?” Alexandria challenged, raising her chin.

“In my more foolish youth, I swore never to disclose what happened at our meetings to anyone who had not attended one. And don’t start about my not saying something earlier, you’re the one who flew off without a word, to me or your mother.”

Alexandria made a frustrated noise, and a few hand gestures like she’d like to strangle you. That wasn’t an uncommon sentiment when people dealt with you. Call it a gift.

After another heavy sigh, she made a motion as though physically pushing something to one side. “Okay. Whatever. I’m still mad.”

“That’s fair.”

Alexandria regarded you suspiciously. “You never break your oaths?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“How many times has that happened?”

That was an unpleasant memory. “Once.”

“Will you swear an oath to me?”

In a way, this had been inevitable. “That depends on what you ask of me, Alexandria.”

She watched you for a moment. You almost wondered if she could see, somehow, past the helmet, to the mixture of despair and resignation on your face.

Carefully, as though each word was specifically selected, Alexandria asked, “Will you swear to always tell me the truth about your rivalry with my parents, and how it relates to me?”

On reflex, you ran through all of the potential outcomes of this situation, all of the things you might be forced to disclose, every oath you’d made that might conflict with it.

And, very softly, hating that you could not even offer her this, you said, “No.”

You tried not to see the hurt on her face as you turned away.

—-

A few hours later, it’s Rosie who finds you this time.

It’s a mark of your bad mood that you don’t come down to talk to her once she’s made it clear she’s looking for you. Resolute, she just finds a ladder, and joins you on one of the wide beams over the workshop.

You’d left your knitting in the mess hall, and hadn’t gone back to retrieve it - so you’d spent most of your time mentally rearranging work desks and plotting projects that you knew you’d never be able to pursue, now that you were retired.

Still, you don’t leave. And part of you keeps track of Rosie’s progress so she doesn’t fall.

“Stuck with the short straw?” You drawl as she finally settles.

“Synovus.” Rosie frowns, “What the fuck.”

“What?”

“What. The. Fuck.” Rosie repeats. “Are you doing.”

“Waxing philosophical about my own impotence.”

“I don’t give a crap about that.” Rosie says dismissively. “What are you doing about Alexandria and Minerva?”

“I -“

“Because whatever it is it isn’t working.”

“That’s-“

“I like them.” Rosie says defiantly. “Both of them. I’m upset that they’re hurt.”

“Well, that’s-“

“Fix it.”

And with that declaration, Rosie swings her leg back over the side, and makes her way down the ladder.

Groaning, you knock the back of your helmet against the wall.

—-

You find Minerva down by the water.

In an attempt to signal peaceful intentions, you made yourself dress in something other than your costume. You left your face uncovered, and ensured you were wearing something that could stand being dragged through the sand in case this conversation went poorly.

Minerva, it turned out, was in the Naiad suit - which you wanted to take as a good sign. It could also have just been that she still had few clothes of her own here, though.

(You’d offered to send someone to purchase clothing for her, or retrieve clothing from her house. She hadn’t wanted to tell you where she lived, now, and you didn’t want Alexandria to go alone into that chaos. Between the extensive closet you rarely used and your minions’ donations, she’d amassed a small pile of loans.)

You caught her coming in after a swim. She caught sight of you when she was still knee deep in the gentle surf of the inner bay, and froze, staring at where you stood on the beach.

You hold out one of the two drinks in your hands and called over the waves, “Smoothie?”

Minerva doesn’t respond. After a minute or two, in which neither of you move, you sigh.

You take a sip from one of the smoothies, bending the straw to claim it as yours. Then you place both of them on a disc of summoned shadow, solidified enough to hold them, and levitated off to one side.

“Alright.” You call to Minerva, “Go ahead, drown me or whatever.”

“Would anyone weep, if I did?” Came the icy reply, and you grin.

“I hope not.” You respond lightly, “My funeral is to be a strictly no-crying zone. Only celebrations, and dancing upon the coffin.”

“Is that how you live with yourself? Everything a joke?”

Your grin fades. “Only myself, dear Minerva.”

The waves stir, a new current introduced. You try not to react to it. Minerva’s warning is venomous, “I’m not your ‘dear’ anything.”

Slowly, you turn your hands so that the palms are facing up, showing that you are not gathering your shadows. “My mistake.”

“The only reason I have not killed you,” Minerva tells you steadily, “Is because you’ve been, somehow, good for Alexandria.”

The waves are rising now - little tiny whitecaps as they froth over, still no higher than her hips when they crest.

“You sound as though you are reconsidering.”

“Even too much medicine becomes poison.”

It is a struggle, not to bare your teeth at that and taunt her. You close your eyes, rather than risk letting her see them swirl black.

After a few heartbeats, Minerva demands, “Well?”

You open your eyes again, powers held tightly in check. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

“I don’t want you to ‘say’ anything.” She growls. “I want you to give up on this charade of civility. Of charity.”

You stiffen, “Have you a complaint about my conduct, Lady Athena?”

She hisses. Oh, you should not have used that name. But it is too late now.

The waters of the bay shiver, and part. Suddenly, there is a clear path of damp sand between you and Minerva, as the water rises at her urging, summoned into shapes.

You take a step back.

“Go on, Lord Synovus.” Minerva takes a step forwards, and you can see a glint in her eyes, even if you can’t decipher it.

Wary, you take another step back. “Minerva. I know my word doesn’t mean much for you-“

That’s as far as you get before the first torrent of water slams into you.

It’s strong enough to take you off your feet, but instead of simply flattening you to the sand, it drags you further into the water. You had the briefest moment to take a breath before being dragged under - only to have it knocked out of you.

The force of the current pulls you in a kind of desperate cartwheel, while you scrabble for purchase in the cursed-soft sand. Saltwater stings your eyes and your nose, and a small voice in the back of your mind remarks, quite calmly, that you probably deserve this.

You can’t really address that though, because the vast majority of your instincts are screaming at you to save yourself; either in a mix of frantic animal instinct to orient and kick and breathe or the trained instinct of a super, to orient and kick and hurt before you can be hurt further.

Luckily, Minerva doesn’t seem to be genuinely out to kill you. At least, not immediately: you surface before you’re forced to suck in water, sputtering and coughing, in water up to your waist.

Resigned, you drag one hand through your hair and use the other to wipe excess water from your face. You glance around, trying to find and track where Minerva is, where the next attack may come from-

The answer was your ankles, naturally.

A current as strong as any riptide twines around your ankles and shins, yanking fiercely and suddenly, and causing you to go face-first back into the water. You struggle, because you cannot help what you are, but you keep a death grip on your powers. If you reacted now, by instinct, you are not sure how much damage you would do.

Again, you are spun until you lose all sense of direction, and again, you surface with barely time to breathe. Now you are treading water, and the babbling fear in your heart insists that if you don’t do anything, Minerva will sweep you out to sea and leave you to drown.

The part of you that has always survived, the part that became the Scourge of the Western Seaboard, classifies things much more coolly. There are several things you could say or do to make this stop. Several ways to return the sense of fear or pain.

You choose none of them, and instead take another sharp breath before you are once again pulled under.

But you are beginning to fear that you will have no other option, if you want to come out of this alive.

The next time you are allowed to breathe, you realize Minerva is shouting at you. Probably has been, but you’ve been a bit busy drowning to notice.

“-you took my family from me!”

You open your mouth to try and respond - just as you slip beneath the surface again.

This time, there’s no helping it. You choke on saltwater and brine, and the automatic response of your body to try and force it out only makes you inhale more. You should be focused on trying to reach the surface, but the animal panic has only risen, and it’s taking everything you can muster to try and keep the energy inside of you from exploding - as shadows, as light, as something raw.

So instead, you sink. And another current grabs you. And you have just enough time to think that it’s a shame Minerva will only kill you now, when you are no longer rivals.

And then you are slammed into the shore, and the water leaves you alone.

You spend several moments coughing up or vomiting seawater. You are drenched, and everywhere you are drenched, the sand sticks to your skin, clothes, and hair, in a gritty paste that stings worse than the saltwater. And yet, you are alive. For now.

When your lungs feel as though they’ve been scraped raw, and you’ve had time to catalogue the deep ache that is already spreading through your body, you look up to see Minerva, still standing in the water. She looks imperious. Cold.

And maybe you’ve suppressed your survival instincts too much today, because when you force words out of your mouth, what you say is, “Are you done?”

Minerva’s expression takes on a sharper edge, and she might have killed you for real (and you wouldn’t have fucking blamed her at that point) except for the blur of movement that slams into the sand between you.

You throw up an arm to shield your eyes from the spray of sand. When you risk lowering it, you recognize the admittedly-blurry outline as Alexandria.

“Oh hi menace.” You mutter in a small voice that might not actually have made it to full words.

“What the fuck!” Alexandria yells, looking back and forth between you.

“Language.” Minerva says automatically, proving you aren’t the only one with a faulty autopilot.

“What the fuck.” Alexandria repeats, just as emphatically.

“We’re okay.” You wheeze, and this time you’re fairly confident those are audible sounds.

Judging by the incredulous look Alexandria gives you, you must not look okay.

Minerva must have come to the same conclusion, because she comments, “You look like a drowned rat.”

“And whose fault is that?” Alexandria demands, rounding on her mother.

“And here I got all dressed up just for you.” You half croak, half croon.

There’s a very brief pause of dead silence between the three of you, before Alexandria turns back to you again.

“Did you make a pass at my mom?”

“What-“ the force of your own outrage is enough to send you into another coughing fit.

“Because if she’s beating the stuffing out of you for hitting on her, I’m just going to fly away again.”

Minerva has one hand over her eyes, “No, that’s not- that’s not what's happening here.”

“Well then, what the fuck.” Alexandria repeats, but this time it’s more plaintive than anything else.

Intentionally or not, it breaks the worst of the tension.

She glances at where you’ve devolved into another round of dry heaving (not due to the implications, simply due to the near drowning) and sighs.

Kneeling next to you, she pulls a bottle of water out of the small pack you hadn’t noticed she was wearing, and offers it to you. After a few carefully measured sips, you feel like you can talk again. Not that that means you should, but since when has that stopped you?

“Thank you, Alexandria.” You say politely, and don’t bother trying to stand. You do manage to scrape yourself into a sitting position, however.

There has to be a way to resolve this. Something you can offer, a bridge between where you both currently stand. Some kind of reassurance?

“I swear.” You say quietly, “That I do not mean either of you any harm.”

Minerva snorts, but Alexandria sits back on her heels. She’s frowning as she watches you, her head tilted, as though there’s something she can almost see behind your eyes.

You hold her gaze long enough to underline the sincerity of your statement, then look to Minerva instead. “You don’t believe me?”

“No. I don’t.” Minerva answers, folding her arms. The waters around her have begun to return to their normal state, but there are still signs of agitation. “Why would an oath matter to someone who’s killed hundreds? What I believe is that it’s a feint. Tell someone over and over again that you never break your word, when it’s properly given, and they’ll eventually put their guard down.”

You can’t really fault her for that belief, it’s certainly the kind of trickery you’re capable of. Known for.

“Why do you put so much emphasis on oaths?” Alexandria asks.

You lift one hand helplessly, “Because, at a certain point, it becomes all that you have.”

Alexandria pointedly looks around at your island.

“I don’t mean like that - yes, I have plenty of material wealth.” You correct. “I mean in the… not quite moral sense. I am..” You hesitate again, choosing your words carefully.

“I am a liar. A traitor. A villain. I have no goal, no ultimate aim, but I don’t seek sensational pleasure or wealth either. I ascribe to no religion. I commit atrocities. And I have a considerable amount of power at my disposal.”

You take a sip of the water again, while Minerva sighs, “If you’re just going to brag, Synovus, you can skip to the point.”

“The point-“ you say with a glare, “is that it would be very, very easy for me to fall into an aimless chaotic melancholy. But a promise, an oath, those are things that are so very easy to break.”

“Restraints.” Alexandria murmurs.

You try to find the words to explain, “There isn’t a - a sign of some kind, a pop-up message that tells you if you’re about to betray someone’s confidence or break a promise. You have to know. And so yes, I am very careful about what I promise myself to, because if oaths stop mattering to me…” You shrug, “What will?”

“They make you stop and think.” Alexandria reasons, and you nod at her, grateful that one of them understands.

“And, of course, this leaves us only with your word, to take on faith.” Minerva notes sourly.

“Trust me or don’t.” You snap, because these are explanations you have never given anyone else, and you are raw on the inside and out. “You live in my house. I’ve spent years saving your life. I nearly let you drown me in a temper tantrum. I’ve never lied about who or what I am-“

You go to gesture, out of habit, but only succeed in jarring the arm holding Alexandria’s water bottle. It knocks you out of your tirade, at least.

You look down to avoid looking at Minerva, and focus on breathing. You grimace are the grime you’ve smeared on the bottle. In measured tones, you say to Alexandria, “I would offer to return this, Alexandria, but… allow me to make a suggestion? I’ll keep this, and you can have my smoothie.”

You gesture in the vague direction of the disc of shadow, still floating patiently. “Or your mother’s, if she’s still refusing my peace offerings.”

For a moment, you think Alexandria is going to refuse. She’s pursed her lips, and still seems unsatisfied with the whole endeavor.

“You sound like you’ve been gargling seashells.” Alexandria remarks, even as she stands to go retrieve the drinks.

Minerva is staring at where they’re levitating, perhaps remembering your offer, but - no, not the drinks, the disc. She’s staring at the slim oval of solidified shadow. The proof of your abilities, that you hadn’t lost hold of, even while drowning.

You… honestly are a bit surprised it's still there yourself. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but apparently in forcing yourself not to change how your powers were being used, you’d inadvertently preserved the disc too.

“I lose control of all sorts of things.” You tell her, hoarsely. “But never my powers. Never.”

You intend for it to be reassuring - that you will never use your abilities against her or Alexandria in anger, that you are willing to allow yourself to be drowned if it means a chance at reconciliation.

Instead, Minerva’s face closes off even more. You realize, much too late, that it could be taken as an accusation instead. Mockery, as she had seemed so afraid of before she told you about her name, her uncertainty.

There was the hero, who had nearly drowned someone who refused to fight back.

Here lay the villain, painted as the martyr.

You lunge to your feet, reaching out as though you could catch her by the wrist, find some way to explain - but she is gone, into the water where you cannot follow, before the second syllable of her name has even cleared your lips.

There’s a frustrated noise from beside you, and you turn long enough to see Alexandria’s glare.

“Even dad never made her that mad.” She accuses.

The depths of that blow must’ve shown on your face, because Alexandria takes a step back, and looks momentarily uncertain.

“Thanks for the smoothie.” She says, and walks down the beach before taking to the sky again.

Eventually, you trudge back up the hill to your lair alone.

—-

You pass Rosie in the hall. She stops to stare at you, in all your sand-encrusted glory.

“I’m working on it.” You growl at her.

She doesn’t say anything.

—-

The next morning, you are woken by the whumpf of a teenager with super strength flopping into your bed. This, due to the laws of ‘Synovus being startled’ if not the laws of physics, results in you briefly experiencing flight about a foot and a half off the mattress.

“Good morning.” Alexandria says cheerily.

“Augh.” You reply, through your pillow.

Merciless, she finds the remote necessary to start clicking through what you have available on streaming services. She’s been really into a murder mystery show from the 80s recently - sure enough, you recognize the distinctive pattern of its opener a few seconds later.

“I’ve forgiven you.” Alexandria informs you.

“Mmpf?”

“I still don’t like it, and I’m not saying you’ve got full license to do it again or anything, but like. I don’t know. You’re a supervillain, of course you have secrets. I just don’t like when they involve me and I don’t know about them, you know?”

“Mmm.” You concede.

“Anyway, I realized that I could also keep secrets now.”

You roll over enough to crack one eyelid at her. She grins. You shrug. It’s her life.

Her attention is rapidly absorbed by the plot of the episode, and you go back to dozing.

And for a little while, everything feels alright.

—-

When you wake up for real, Alexandria’s on a different episode, and has an empty glass on the table beside her that still bears marks of a smoothie.

“Decided you were a fan?” You ask, gesturing to it as you start the process to drag yourself out of bed.

“The fruit here is much fresher than I’m used to. And Oflok might be magic.”

“Oflok is definitely magic.” You agree, and go to scrape yourself into the shape of something presentable.

Once you’ve curried life into your limbs and brushed away the last vestiges of sleep, you return to find that Alexandria’s swapped away from her show. Instead, she’s now clicking through news feeds.

“Was it the doorman?”

“Nope - he was framed. It turned out to be the neighbor.”

“Hell of a way to lodge a noise complaint.” You muse. You nod at the screens, “So, what’s the damage?”

“Bad.” Alexandria answers frankly. “The group we met before - the one you put in the hospital and the other two who left? They’ve staked a pretty big claim on Southern California, and actually seem to be able to enforce it. A few capes have disappeared closer to Seattle, six different people have claimed to know why, but there’s no evidence.”

She clicks through to a different channel, “Oh, and it’s a free for all in Death Valley.”

“We do love our sense of irony.” You admit. You scan the displays for people you recognize, signs of actual trouble versus someone looking for fifteen minutes of fame.

Something at the bottom of the screen catches your eye. “What’s that about? An anti-retirement petition?”

Alexandria grins, “Apparently a lot of them want you to come back.”

You are aghast. “Why?”

She shrugs, “A single tyrant is better than a super powered gang war? One person they interviewed said that at least you had class.”

“Clearly, I should’ve blown up a few more buildings before I retired.”

You watch the newsreel for a few more minutes - that petition has over 3,000 signatures, which is frankly ridiculous - before Alexandria asks, “Did you know this would happen? When you retired?”

You sigh, and readjust the pillows you’re now leaning against. “I expected something like this.” You admit. “There’s always a power vacuum. My retiring left a fairly large one.”

You squint, “I did think it would be more resolved by now, instead of escalating. Maybe I should’ve faked my death instead.”

“Would that have really made a difference?”

“If someone had claimed to kill me, they could’ve pushed to inherit all of my territory by right of conquest.” You point out. “The trouble with my not actually being dead would’ve made it more difficult for anyone to make an unarguable claim though. Maybe not.”

“Why did you retire?”

You frown, and look at her with disapproval. Alexandria only shrugs, “Hey, I can ask. Didn’t say I expected an answer.”

“I… know what it’s like to have super powered parents. Guardians. Life administrators.” You concede reluctantly. “I didn’t want that for you.”

“Awww.” Alexandria says, one hand over her heart. “You think you’re my parent.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“You made it weird by existing.”

“Touché.”

There’s a brief pause, as a commercial comes on that distracts both of you. In addition to its general absurdity, you have no idea what it’s for until the end, when it pivots to the intended product with a complete non-sequitur. You mock it together.

“You know, you don’t talk about them much.” Alexandria notes.

“My choice in toothpaste brands?” You ask, raising a brow.

Alexandria rolls her eyes. “Your parents.”

“Correct.”

“Sore subject?”

You rise, and stretch. “Just not much to talk about. They’re both dead now. Have been for a while.”

“I’m sorry.”

You laugh, and it’s more of a bark, “You might be the only one to say that about one of them. But I appreciate the sentiment, little menace.”

Alexandria makes a face at you. “By the way.” She says casually, “I’m going to fly to the mainland later. Want anything?”

You are, perhaps, too glad to change the subject to be appropriately suspicious. In hindsight, that will have been purposeful, and you will appreciate the maneuver as much as you are frustrated that it works.

“Some sort of non-chocolate candy, so it doesn’t melt in your pocket.” You poke her shoulder, and head past her into the hall.

“I’m going to bring you back a single jolly rancher.” She yells to your back.

—-

Later that day, after Alexandria’s left, you get a text message from an unknown phone number.

Not Unwritten, who does admittedly go through phone numbers at an alarming rate, but a genuine, never-texted-or-called-before number.

UKN: Hey, Syn? It’s Menace.

UKN: I uh. I may have dropped my phone on the flight over.

You stifle a snort.

Syn: Noted.

Syn: I will presume any further messages from your number are instead from a particularly enterprising cephalopod.

UKN: Why do you assume an octopus?

Syn: Octopuses are dope.

UKN: Sometimes talking to you is like talking to a thesaurus.

UKN: Sometimes you hit me with ‘Octopuses are dope’

Syn: I contain multitudes.

Syn: Pre-paid cell, I presume?

UKN: yep.

Syn: Don’t lose this one until you get back to the island.

Syn: … also Doll says hello.

UKN: hi Doll!

You wave Doll away before you can become an intermediary for a text conversation. He gives you a baleful look, but goes back to his current task: teaching you to play ‘the dungeon room game.’

He tells you it’s actual name several times, but you like yours better.

—-

“Doll. Doll. Andrei. I’m telling you, it doesn’t make sense.”

Your minion has his head on the table, as though not watching you will in any way spare him from listening to you.

“This economy - its terrible, Doll. In what - in what world is a custom made signet ring cheaper than a mass printed book?”

“In this one.” Doll says weakly.

“Bullshit. Two gold for a signet ring - you said one copper is the equivalent of one American dollar for vague estimations, and multiples of ten to class up, so that’s $200 for a signet ring, fine. But then -“

You recheck the book, and your math, just in case, “twenty-five gold for a book?!? If it was a spellbook or something maybe I’d understand but - Doll that’s two thousand dollars. That’s worse than textbooks.”

With disdain, you shuffle the papers in front of you, until you come back to the one with the ‘character goals’ box. You add ‘become bookstore mogul’ to the list.

Doll has rolled his head on his arms, enough to peer at you. “You’re going to be a rules lawyer player, aren’t you.” He says morosely.

“Not at all. I’m - what was it, neutral evil? Neutral evil. No law to be found.”

He sighs, and sits up, “Alright, if you are finished mocking the fictional economy, we can look at backstory-“

You are not, in fact, finished mocking the fictional economy, however you don’t get a chance to continue to dismantle it either. Instead, your phone vibrates.

At first, you assume it’s Alexandria, giving you a heads up call so she doesn’t set off the klaxons. But Doll frowns and reaches for his phone as well, and the screens in the room flip on.

Each screen - from the oversized one you used to play D.D.R. for Alexandria’s birthday, to the smaller screens still locked behind cabinets, to both of your cellphones - plays the same video. A live camera feed, depicting two figures you recognize for their insignias, if nothing else.

Dymania - you still think of them as 'ringleader.' The one with the white patterns, that's Jester. Clairvoyance and teleportation, with a side of potential emotional manipulation.

"Boss?" Doll asks. You hold up a hand, still taking in the details of the video.

"Someone wants to make sure I see this." You murmur. "Let's find out why."

They're against a wall, so you can't tell much about their surroundings (metal, large panels, industrial?) but the camera is steady and stays in focus (tripod, high quality capture and broadcast, no one holding it. Not completely amateur) as Jester steps forwards and declares,

"Citizens! It's been a while since you've heard from us direct, hasn't it? I'm terribly sorry about all of that, but it's only because we were waiting to have a proper show for you all."

Dymania, the calmer of the two, falls easily into pattern. (Rehearsed? Pre-recorded?) "The current upset must be such a burden for those of you who would prefer to return to life as normal. Nevertheless, rejoice - for we are closer to that calm prosperity you so desire."

"Not everyone agrees with that philosophy though." Jester chimes in, rocking on his feet. The energetic enforcer to the calm mastermind. "For example, try our visitors from earlier today. At first, we thought they were here to stir things up, but..."

"They've been kind enough to volunteer instead. To serve as examples, that we might sooner reach our goals."

"And to demonstrate that we do believe in equality..." Jester closes to the camera, and the view changes - not in the blurry motion of a camera spinning or the sharp cut of spliced footage, but in the blink-and-done of a transfer from one feed to another.

Your heart drops. You feel cold. You are conscious, barely, of Doll's sharp intake of breath, of a cry from further down the hall where this must be playing, of the shadows that are twining around your limbs and the humming of the light in your bones.

Jester's narration continues, cheery and jarring and signing a death sentence with every word, "We've got someone from all sides for you! Civilian, government, military..."

The three people kneeling with their hands bound do not interest you. But beside them, there are two more, one in white and gold, and the other in matte black.

"Villain... and Hero."

One of them is Athena, and that alone would hurt.

But the other?

The other is Menace.

You are going to end the world today.

[tyunniverse]

Midnight Crisis

pairing: huening kai x reader

genre: fluff (?)

word count: 1728

synopsis: huening kai gets woken up by his neighbor's alarm every midnight and finally decides to do something about it

There it is again.

Kai lies awake in his bed, eyes heavy and dark circles evident. He stares at the ceiling, trying his best to cancel out the noise that's been plaguing his mind for countless nights but to no avail. He's grown to hate the noise with each passing day. It's been like this ever since he moved in two months ago.

The first night was bearable, he'd assumed that his neighbor had something important to do at midnight. After all, it wasn't unusual for a college student to be up that late to finish an assignment. The first week was excusable. Kai figured that they must be working on an extremely important project that couldn't wait until morning to be finish. The next few weeks were hell. He thought he'd be immune to the alarm blasting through his walls but he wasn't. It sounds off for five minutes and after that, waits another five minutes more to go off again. His suffering doesn't end until it nears 1 am, and if he's lucky, it'll end before 00:30. This became the norm for Kai.

But the alarm had been going off for more than an hour. A hundred thoughts go through Kai's mind. Should he just try to go back to sleep? At this point that seemed impossible. He'd tried a hundred times before and it never worked. Should he just stay up until it ends? He'd be tired by morning but that's the safest possible decision. But what if this goes on until sunrise? He can't risk falling asleep in class when he had a presentation first thing in the morning.

Kai bunches the his blanket in his hands. "Why me?" He groans, shifting to the side to check his phone. His classmate, Beomgyu, had left him a message a few hours ago.

Hyuka, I can't make it to class tomorrow. I'm at the hospital with my roommate. Sorry, but I think you have to do the presentation on your own tomorrow. I promise I'll make it up to you.

Great.

Given the news and the loud pinging of the alarm, Kai decides that he has had enough. He can't deal with the stupid alarm going off every night, especially when he really needed the rest.

He hops out off bed, grabbing a hoodie from his closet and putting it over his shirt before storming out of his room.

—

You were beyond tired.

The classes you had on that day had all conducted tests, leaving your brain fried by the time you got home. You immediately pass out once you reached the comfort of your bed, not even caring to change out of your clothes. Your mind peacefully drifts into sleep, remembering that you had something to look forward to at 1 am.

You never forget to set your alarm. Sometimes, it was hard waking up in the middle of the night when you're having such a good time sleeping, but you made sure that it went off every five minutes until you're forcibly awoken by it's blaring sound.

The drama your best friend, Soobin, had recommended to you had been the highlight of your day since the beginning of the semester. School has been nothing but the source of your stress and you found that watching the new episodes every night helped you get through it and prepare yourself for anything to come. Little did you know that your energy booster had become the bane of someone else's existence.

"Excuse me!"

You were woken up by the sound of loud banging on your door. Having just come to your senses, your eyes wander to you phone that had been blasting your alarm since 12 am. You reach out to it, checking the time and panicking once you saw that it was way past the time slot for your drama. It was about to finish.

"Shit." You scramble towards your laptop, hoping to at least see if there was still hope to watch it until your attention was brought back to the loud banging on your door.

"Excuse me! Is anyone in there?"

You frown. "Who the hell disturbs people in the middle of the night?"

The place was quiet for a while until the banging came back. You take one last glance at your laptop before treading towards the door. You grab anything heavy along the way in case things get a little weird with your unexpected visitor.

Kai rubs his eyes as he waits for his neighbor's door to swing open. His ears perk up when he hears shuffling behind the door. It opens for about an inch wide, raising a few questions in Kai's mind.

"Do you need something?" You speak out from behind the door.

Kai's brows knit as he leaned a little closer. "It's me, Huening Kai, from room 208. I need to talk to you about something but isn't refusing to open your door a little rude?"

"Oh, sorry." You relax once you realize that the visitor wasn't a threat. You'd seen him a lot on your way to your room but you've never interacted before. All you know was that he seemed like a pretty nice guy. "Ah," You look up at him. He looked kinda cute despite his tired look. His messy hair had almost entirely covered his eyes and his hoodie had a molang print on the side. "But isn't it also a little rude to bang at your neighbor's door at 1 am?" You ask him, brows raised.

Kai purses his lips, trying his best to hold off on snapping at you. He was truly at his limit. "Not when that neighbor has kept me up for the past two months with their stupid alarm?"

"What are you— oh." You cut yourself off upon realizing the entirety of the situation. Maximum volume. You had set your alarm at maximum volume to make sure you never missed an episode. It had barely been effective on you but it sure did its work on your neighbor. In hindsight, you should've seen this coming.

Kai watches as you space out and decides to just tell you then and there instead of waiting for you to invite him inside. "Uh, listen." His hands fidget, trying to get through the awkwardness. "You must have something important to do but please be responsible with your alarm. It's ringing has kept me awake since the start of the semester and I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since. I have a presentation later and I really need to get some sleep before that, so can you please tone the alarm down or just shut if off? I don't think I can survive another night like this."

There he had it.

Kai felt a bit better. He should've done this sooner. His problems would've been solved by then. He figured that you'd apologize and stop your alarms since by now, the two of you have probably reached an understanding.

"I understand your side, I really do." You tell him, looking up at his now smiling form. "But I can't lower the volume." His smile disappears.

"What?"

"I can't wake up if it's not at maximum volume. Please understand, I need this in order to wake up." You insist.

Kai didn't know how to react. He'd been so sure that you'd cooperate that any other responses would have rendered his mind blank. "What?" He repeats. "Then, can you at least tell me why it's so important for you to be awake at this hour?"

You cant. You can't tell him.

The moment he finds out that you were willing to sacrifice his sleep for the drama you've been watching, he'd never let you hear the end of it. "I have a project and it needs to be finished by tomorrow."

Kai crosses his arms, frowning. "So you're saying you have an important project every single night?"

You hold your breath. "Yes?"

"Yes?" Kai scoffs. "Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm serious!" You wage him off. "I really do have one!"

Kai takes a peek at your room and sighs. "Then bring it here. The least you can do is prove that you're telling the truth. I can't keep suffering like this, Y/N."

Hearing your name made you nervous. Of course he'd known your name, he had delivered your packages a few times when it ended up in front of his doorstep by mistake. What's worse, he wanted you to show him the project you made up on the spot to hopefully escape the situation. Your mind goes blank, and there's only one thng that passes through it despite being fully aware that this solution was only temporary.

"I'm sorry!"

"Huh?"

Kai freezes in his spot as the door slams shut in his face. He hears you run back imto the safety of your room and he's left standing there, speechless. It takes him a few seconds to register what had just happened.

"Hey!" He reaches out for your door knob, twisting it a few times before giving up and knocking on the door. "Y/N? Y/N! Open up! We're still not done talking!" He knocks a few more times. "Hey!"

You snicker, hellbent on ignoring him and focusing on what's left of your show. Even if it's just the ending of the episode, it was enough to at least get you through tomorrow.

The episodes starts loading after a few clicks and you move to get your headphones. That's when you realize that Kai had finally stopped bothering you for the night. A smile creeps in your face as you feel a mixture of relief and guilt. "I'm sorry, Kai, but I need this."

You plug your headphones in and was about to focus on the episode when a loud alarm starts blasting through the walls of your room. Eyes wide, you check your phone to see if your alarm had beem turned off. It had been dead ever since you got up, which meant that the sound could only be coming from the room next door.

You jump when you hear a rather loud laugh coming from Kai's room, followed by him banging on your shared wall. Your phone buzzes with a notification and you check it.

Hey there, neighbor! If I'm not gonna get any sleep then so are you. Suffer with me >3<

[courtneyyharper]

10 Christmas Gifts ‘for her’ if you’re completely clueless

Since it's apparently time to start thinking about that time of year I thought I'd jump on and attempt to give you some help in an attempt to spark​ some ideas. Whether you're using this list for ideas for your other half, your mum or sister, or even if you are that person that likes something on this list why don't you send it over as a wee hint... the irony of this is that I've banned my boyfriend from looking at this list as there's a few spoilers on here for his gifts! (Hope he enjoys a wee eyeshadow palette😬).

So let’s start...

1. AIRPODS

I'm sure this will be a big gift this year and a perfect gift if you know they'll be getting a new phone or laptop! Perfect for a music lover or just the person that always needs to have the next big thing! I'd recommend planning to get a pair of these bad boys from Amazon or Currys during the Black Friday sale.

2. STUDIO LIGHT

A gift my mum got me unexpectedly a few years back and I haven't looked back. Not just for the MUA or photography student in your life but even just for every day make up application and I know my friends always use mine for checking their outfits or taking selfies before a night out! I've shown in the product photo how you can get a full sized one or a desk sized one easily on Amazon, your choice. Along this line would also be a Hollywood mirror, the big vanity mirrors with the bright lights installed but they can be hard to source as they're so popular and you need to make sure they're the bright studio lights. Top tip would just be to check the dimensions so you know what you're getting.

3. POLAROID CAMERA

I wanna say this is a cult favourite. I don't know many girls who don't have one of these now but if your gift recipient is one of them then it'd be a great gift! They're a great idea for Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries because it means you can capture the memories and of course ironically take a photo of the polaroid with your phone and post it to Instagram!! They come in a variety of colours and you can purchase accessories and refillable polaroid packs for other special occasions after, making it the gift that keeps on giving.

4. VINYL PLAYERS

Another gift that keeps on giving. If they're a real music lover and always have Spotify going in their room, and with the lack of concerts this year, this would be a very thoughtful gift. You can get these lads pretty cheap on Amazon or fork out for the pricey ones from UO. The only downside is that the actual Vinyl records themselves is where this gifts will cost you the most, but at least you'll always have an idea for next years present.

5. FOREVER ROSES

Now these guys can be quite boujee and I remember them being really popular a few years ago. If you type 'forever roses' into google or, probably better yet, Instagram you'll get a lot of companies selling gift sets of these specially preserved roses that can last for years. An incredibly romantic and surprising gift, this one can cost you big bucks but if you shop around enough you can get single roses for around £20 or major bunches for a few hundred but it's sure to win you major brownie points.

6. LUSH

This is the standard gift and perfect for a Christmas Eve bath. If you couldn't come up with this present on your own then please pay close attention to this blog because oh buddy you will need it! There are so many gift boxes to choose from at Lush and the great thing is you can't go wrong with any of them. Not to worry if you don't have a bath too because I also have you covered with these Lush sprays which are sooo good that you won't need to work out what their favourite perfume is for the third year in a row. (Also a great brand to support for its morals which is a bonus!!)

7. BLANKETS

Not only perfect for those cosy Winter and lockdown nights but also a great home decor item that is so popular on Instagram! These massive knit blankets can get incredibly pricey online, ranging from 20ish quid for a tiny one to a few hundred for the massive ones, so if you're willing to pay that then go ahead but top tip is to have a look in Home Bargains because they had these guys in all year for £25 and even Primark Home had a few in recently but I'd get ahead of the game for this one before they sell out...

8. JEWELLERY

Now I'm not a massive jewellery fan myself but some girls just go ga-ga for a princess ring. If you're wondering if your girlfriend/sister/daughter is one of them you can identify these people by their less-than-subtle 'just gonna post this here xx' social media posts sharing the Pandora sales. I know most boys get scared to choose jewellery in case the person 'doesn't like it' blah blah but chances are unless they've told you somethng they specifically want or you've been missing some massive hints (ie. ring photos 'accidentally' sent to you) then they'll appreciate literally anything you choose. It's the idea you've went and chosen something specifically for them more than the item itself that matters. If you like it, they'll like it more. The big site is Pandora and many sites like it will have 'Christmas Gift Guide' sections to make it super easy for you. Top tip: you could do a wee price low-high if this is just an add-on gift and although it's horrible to say they will most likely look it up and check how much you spent on it... sorry about that!

9. EYESHADOW PALETTE

Now this is one you will most likely skip over because it feels like delving into a massive jungle with no map and no water and actually no shoes and no clue whatsoever of where to start. That's what boys feel like trying to buy girls make up and I really can't blame you. In fact, if you haven't been told exactly what to buy then who could blame you but if you're really looking to impress and go the extra mile and know they like make up then I'm going to attempt to help you as best I can and try and keep it really simple! So, first of all you'll need to somehow have a look at their collection when they're getting ready or be super stealthy and just double check they don't have the palette you're going to get them.

This is important. Right, so question one is do they watch YouTubers do make up? Because if they do then simply find out who they watch and check if that influencer has a palette or collab with a makeup brand because then your job is done for you!! If they've told you all about the James Charles/Tatti/Jefree Starr drama that encapsulated YouTube in the past then find out who's side they support because all three of those guys have palettes! James Charles x Morphe Artistry palette, Tatti has her own brand, or if they came out supporting Jeffree Starr and Shane Dawson in the whole fiasco then the Jeffree Starr 'Conspiracy palette' is for you. To each their own. These two main palettes I've featured on the left below for you to have a look at.

The top right palette is the new HUDA Beauty Naughty Nude palette and it's the one I'd go for if you're really unsure still! It's a new release so doubtful they have it and there's no crazy colours so can be used by everyone. It would be my top recommendation for make up this Christmas.

The three below that are all YouTuber/Influencer collabs with makeup brands that have been pretty popular this year. From the left: BPerfect x Stacey Marie Carnival III Love Tahiti Palette is one to get if you know they love doing colourful and adventurous looks, middle: Carli Bybel Palette x Anastasia Beverly Hills and far right: BPerfect x Jah Makeup Artist Clientele Palette are both perfect for more simple looks or if they don't go wild with colour and are both from big brands so will be very much appreciated!

God, this really could have been its own post where I explained it a bit better but alas...

10. HAIR CURLERS/WAVER

Maybe they're not as into makeup and prefer hair, or maybe they just love both? Then a Beauty Works hair styler would be a boujee gift for them. So, for this you can do the standard version of the products (gold) or you can do the newer versions in the collab with Molly Mae (pink). It's up to you. These products are pricey but great quality. First is the hair curler (Professional styler) which is great if both you and they love their hair curly, and you can't go wrong with Molly Mae's signature bouncy curls. The second option is a new trend in hair his year, The Waver, which creates the mermaid waves that I've pictured Molly Mae wearing below (and yes boys they’re different than curls) and a great gift if they already have the curler. Top tip: is to get these lads while ASOS have 20% off because you're grabbing yourself a bargain or if you're really on a budget many brands do these products without the hefty price tag.

BONUS: GIFT ADVENT CALENDER

This year there is a major boom in the idea of gift advent calendars, so behind every door is a small gift instead of chocolate. Now what would be super adorable is to buy advent boxes online and fill them yourself with personalised gifts but luckily many brands have brought out their own versions! The best one I have saw so far this year is this PrettyLittleThing beauty calendar but it has been sold out for some time now! ASOS etc. are doing their own versions and there have even been adorable versions in the likes of HomeBargains and B&Ms where you can get candle or even alcohol versions.

Well, I hope this helped even a little bit! If you're really on the ball you'll have noticed I haven't included anything like the staple Primark pyjamas or everything seems catered towards girlfriends or 'for her' but not to worry I've many more versions planned, including 'for him', 'on a budget', and 'how to dress up your present'!

Happy (very early) Christmas!🎁🎄