#I’m here for a good time not a long time lol

[sleepyhoon]

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM 

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[waynes-multiverse]

Giiiiirrrrrl, I'm back. Finally 😅

(It's been awhile lol We need to catch up in dms 👀)

I was so excited to get into this story, this universe, this character, and, most of all, your immaculate writing 🤓😍 (I finally caught up on all things Tracker, so nothing is stopping me from devouring this deliciousness now 😋)

First of, Professor Goldstein is a piece of work... 😒 I wouldn't blame her for spitting into his coffee every time he calls her sweetheart. But Russell, I see you. She's gonna be so annoyed with him 😂

As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name

Ooooh, another professor character paired with some rugged Mountain Man 😏 I'm addicted to those couples. She's all business up front, and he's all party in the back (seat of his Chevelle) 🤪

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said

UGH. The nerve!!!!! Massage therapist????? How about I step on your back with my high heels, bro...

And then to go on about his trip and parasailing... Guess it's true. Ignorant people are happier 😂

Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?

Or why are campuses so big in general? My university actually had several faculties strewn throughout the city. Sometimes it took an hour and several subway rides to get to your next lecture 😅

and these heels were killing your feet.

She needs a pair of sneakers in her purse. Or rollerskates!!! One of those electric scooters? 🤓 (Dory's or Russell's next Xmas present for her would be something like this after they listened to her complain for months lmao)

Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.

Please tell me Russell's in the room when she said that 😄🤞

When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.

Yes, he is. Bahahahaha!!! 🤣🤣🤣

He's gonna love her 😝

Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers.

Ooooh, right! I wonder how much she knows about the Shaws. Not something that comes casually up in the cafetaria I imagine 😅

“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile. “I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.” Ugh. Another sweethearting man.

Love this whole exchange. You're making my dreams come true, babe 😘

“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh.

Dead 🤣🤣🤣

His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.

I keep thinking he probably has that look now because he was in the army for so long. Young Russell was pretty much young Dean Winchester in a uniform (hello there, soldier 😏)

“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.

Well... It's a toss-up, I'd say 😆

You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”

In. His. Car 🚩🚩🚩😂

“Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”

If any strange man said that to you... 🚩🤣

“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said.

Well, at least, Colter has an Airstream 😅🤷‍♀️

His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.

He is a professional flirt. Kind eyes...

“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked.

Dear God, he does not stop, does he? 😆 (On the show, I loved his persistence with Reenie too, even though it was mainly just to annoy Colter. But you captured him beautifully here with this sort of charm 🥰)

PS: schmutz, schlep... I love the sprinkles of Yiddish in this 🤓

“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.

STOP IT! And he upgraded too!!! 🤣

Which only left the alternative: something…casual.

I mean... Why not? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ I'm with her on this. Red flags be damned 😂

I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS! Gah, this was fabulous! I'm hooked! 😍👏

Are they gonna stay casual? Something about her brooding and reluctance tells me it's not usually her style? Which means, will he eventually settle? Get out of the dangerous hitman-nomad life? And then there's the stories about their respective families. We already know some about Russell's. How is she gonna react if she learns everything? And there's something odd about her private life as well. Can't wait to dive into that bombshell 😂

Zep, my sweet genius Alex, you've outdone yourself once again. Bravo!!! 👏👏👏

A Line and a Half

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.

AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉

Word Count: 3.2K

Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…

You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.

Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk. 

“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”

As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.

Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.

“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor. 

Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.

“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.

“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”

You quirked a brow. “Do they?”

You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.

Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.

“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.

You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.

Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.

Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.

Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.

Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.

You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.

Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?

It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.

It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.

She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)

That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.

And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.

“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.

When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.

He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.

“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”

You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.

Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.

“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.

“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.

You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.

“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.

“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.

“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.

“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.

You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.

You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”

Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.

“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”

You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.

The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.

“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.

“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”

Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).

“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.

“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”

Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.

“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”

A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”

“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”

You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.

It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.

When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.

Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.

“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.

Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.

“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.

You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.

“I’m sure,” you replied.

Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”

He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.

“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”

 You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”

“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”

You shared a telling look with Dory.

“Next time, huh?” you asked.

“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.” 

He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.

She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.

“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.

“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”

That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”

“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”

“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.

“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”

“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.

Unstable…and lonely. 

“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.

He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?

Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.

For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.

After a moment, Russell shook his head.

“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.

“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.

You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad. 

“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.

“It’s all right,” you replied.

“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."

You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.

“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.

“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.

“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.

 And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.

This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.

You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.

As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.

“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”

Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”

“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.

It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.

“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.

When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.

“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.

“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.

It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.

 “Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.

You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.

If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.

He wanted to see more of you before he left town.

“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.

“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.

You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.

However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.

Which only left the alternative: something…casual.

You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.

“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”

Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.

“Sometime, huh?” you asked.

He smiled back. “Tonight?”

You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.

“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”

“Well, all right,” Russell said.

He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.

He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.

Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.

But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.   

“See you tonight,” he said.

AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆

Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.

Next Time in Part 1:

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[darkbluekies]

GOLDEN TRIAL PT2: A slippery slope

Part 1

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: after your adventure on Normandie, you've been dealing with the consequences of the horror. Unfortunately, you start to realize that you might not be the person you think you are. It doesn't help when a certain doctor finds you again.

Warnings: lingering head trauma, identity crisis, kidnapping, mocking, dog collar (lol), syringes/drugs, forced tattooing,

Word count: 9.3k

You get off the subway in silence and push your way through the crowd, walk up the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Blinking, you try to fix your blurry vision. Sometimes, even though it’s been three months since you were hit on the head with a glass bottle, you’re reminded of the events on board the liner Normandie. You had been running around over two days before going to the hospital about the blow to your head. It seems to have been too late. What could have been brushed off with some bandage and disinfection had now given you minor problems you are dealing with daily. Not enough to hurt or bother, but enough for your agency to hesitate sending you out on missions. 

These last months have been weird, to say the least. Not only have you been forced to take a break from your job, you have been lonely. So very lonely. You haven’t done anything and the only time you’ve went outside the door is when you go to your doctor’s appointments and when buying food. After the ominous note you got, you have been careful about going outside, scared that you will meet them again. How long will your life be forced to be like this? Maybe you should leave New York and start over somewhere new, where you can live a normal life. No more detective work, no more hiding, no more … fear. Perhaps a farm on the west coast? 

You open the door to the private hospital. It’s located in a house no other than any of the other houses on the street. The first time you were here, you thought that you had been given the wrong address and waked into someone’s private house. Quietly you walk into the reception. The young woman behind the desk has always been friendly. Her sparkly blue eyes and chestnut hair remind you of a squirrel.  

“Good morning”, the receptionist smiles at you. “Name?”

“Y/N L/N”, you say. “I’m here for a revisit at eleven am.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you. Your doctor is currently on sick leave, so there will be another doctor taking care of you today. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Take a seat and the doctor will see you in a moment.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You sit down in one of the wooden chairs. The clock on the wall ticks like a doomsday clock. You can’t help but shiver. 

Your eyes wander in the small room. A mother with her young son, a father with his daughter, an old couple. And you, alone. There’s paintings on the walls, as if to distract one from the horror they might have to partake in when they step through one of the three doors on the right hand side of the room. 

You’re not sure why you’re here. You have been going to this doctor for three months and all he’s done is to confirm that you do, indeed, have head trauma. As if you couldn’t figure that part out for yourself. Sometimes you wonder if you still have shards of glass stuck in your head. 

“The doctor will see you now, Mister Y/N”, the receptionist suddenly says. “It’s the middle door.”

You stand up and walk over to the doors on the other side of the room, opening the middle one. Behind the desk, a man sits. He looks up at you and you can feel your heart stop, and so does the clock. For a second, you wonder if it’s one of the side effects from the glass bottle, but you can still hear your heart pound loudly in your chest. He’s trying to hide a smile, trying so hard to make it look like you’ve never met before. What do you do? Do you close the door behind you and get into his office or do you make a scene and get away? Your hand still holds onto the door handle behind you. 

“Close the door, if you don’t mind”, Doctor Kry says and raises his eyebrows testingly when you flinch back. “Don’t even think about it. Close the door.”

With a frustrated sigh, you close it, but remain by the wall. 

“I figure that you’re not going to sit down”, Doctor Kry says and rises from his chair. 

“Don’t come closer”, you say quickly. “I will make a scene.”

“I’m fine with that. Easier for me to get you into a lunatic asylum.”

You freeze. 

“Your usual doctor is on sick leave, so I’m here today”, Doctor Kry continues as if the prior conversation never happened. “I hope that is fine with you.”

“I am not comfortable with having you anywhere near me”, you spit. “How did you even know that I went here?”

Doctor Kry leans back against his desk with his hands in his pockets. “I can’t take the credit for that, unfortunately. It was my dear friend miss Carter who managed to find you.”

“Hedwig?”

“Yeah. Who knew that a young heiress with a phenomenally large contact net and money would be able to find someone like you. Unbelievable.”

You don’t give in to his joke. 

“Sit down, Y/N”, Doctor Kry says and pulls out the chair for you, “or I will get you dragged out of here in a straightjacket.”

Involuntarily you sit down in his chair. Doctor Kry walks around you and you follow him in the corner of your eye. 

“I read your report”, Doctor Kry says. “Trauma to the head? What happened?”

“You fucking know”, you spit.

“Oh, right.”

You want to slap that smirk off of his face. He continues to smile as he puts on his gloves. 

“Let’s get it under control”, Doctor Kry says and takes your head in his hands. 

You flinch, silently praying that he won’t twist your neck and break it. 

“Don’t touch my neck”, you say. 

“How else am I going to treat you?” Doctor Kry scoffs. 

You start to wonder if he’s messing with you when he’s just touching around. He’s too close to your neck, he could snap it. 

“Can you hurry up?” The words just slip out, before you have the time to shut your mouth. 

To your horror, he chuckles. You freeze in your seat. 

“Why did you go so stiff all of a sudden?” Doctor Kry asks smugly, grabbing your shoulders. “Are you scared that I’m going to hurt you, Golden Boy?”

The familiar pet name sends a wave of nausea through your body. You feel how every hair on your body stands on edge. Terrified to meet his blue eyes, you concentrate on a point on the wall where it looks like a small bug has landed. 

“You threatened me with a tranquilizer”, you breathe out. “You could have helped me with my head that night — you’re a doctor — but you didn’t. You could have prevented me from coming here.”

“I could have”, Doctor Kry says. “But why would I? Remember what I told you? I’ve never said that I was nice.”

You stand up, shaking off his hands. 

“We’re done here”, you decide and start to move towards the door. 

“Alright, I suppose so”, Doctor Kry says. 

You grab the door handle with your shaking hand and open it forcefully. 

“I guess that I will see you soon, Y/N”, you hear his voice say behind you. “Can’t let a patient go before they’re healed, now can I?”

You ignore him. Stumbling on trembling legs, you pass the patients in the waiting room, struggle past the receptionist and out of the house. You throw up in the nearest bush.

For a few moments, the world has gone silent again. You can hear your heart thumping in your ear, feel every nerve in your body beat alongside it and you have to sit down on a nearby bench to collect your spinning head. That eerie feeling you had on board the Normandie returns … as if you’re being watched. You look around in a dizzy, blurry haze. Everyone looked like each other. Anyone could be them. If Kry had found you, what says that the others aren’t around the corner?

Going home feels wrong. What if they follow you and see where you live? Where do you go? What do you do? 

Your numb legs take you to a nearby telephone booth. With shaking fingers you call your boss and tell him about the incident. 

“You told me that I’d be safe!” you shout. “I knew that it would end like this! I knew that this would happen!”

“Y/N-”

“If I die, it’s your fucking fault, okay? You sent me out on that ship alone and now I have to deal with the consequences of your choices!”

You throw the telephone back in its hold and scream in frustration. The sound doesn’t escape the little telephone booth, which is probably for the best. You don't want to go to that mental asylum Doctor Kry threatened with.

You stand still for a few seconds, breathing heavily. You feel like crying.

The coming days can't be described as anything less than torture. You look over your shoulder for every step you take, flinch at every sound. Just as paranoid as on board the ship. Those four days will haunt you for the rest of your life … and the ones who caused it will hunt you until you're in their claws.

To calm your nerves, you've had to drink strong whiskey. Nothing else seems to work. Should you leave the country? You shiver. The thought of stepping aboard another ship again makes your skin crawl. You take another sip of the whiskey. It doesn't burn anymore.

The world started to blend together in blurry waves ages ago. It's starting to shift into black. Finally you're going to fall asleep and not have to worry about anything in this world. You’ll be safe in dreamland. 

A small sound reaches your drowsy ears, but you’re too far off to react in time, almost as if you’re drugged. The door opens slowly and a dark figure enters. Everything is fuzzy. The person says something, but you can’t hear it. A cloudy wall separates you from you and whoever has broken into your apartment. A cloud which quickly turns everything black.

When you wake up again, you feel every muscle in your body pulsating, hurting and a nauseating feeling roars in your body. You’re lying on a couch in what looks like a warehouse … or a basement. 

“He’s awake!” a familiar voice gasps. 

Hedwig jumps up from a chair right by your head and waves for someone to come over. You hear the sound of people move closer. You try to pull yourself up on your elbows. 

“You son of a bitch, Y/N”, you hear Silas say, a clear smirk in his taunting voice. “You thought that you could get away. How naive!”

“I want to put it on”, Jerry says and takes something from Edmund’s hands.

“Fuck sake, Jerry!” he hisses and pulls his hand quickly away. “I've told you to trim those nails!”

Jerry doesn't bother to answer. She walks over to you and slips something around your neck. You're too dizzy to realize what it is before it is too late. A collar and a leash. Like a dog. Just like they had promised.

“What an obedient dog”, she snickers. “Letting me put it on without protests.”

She tugs on the leash, causing your head to rip forward. The air in your throat gets abruptly cut off. Their laughter feels your aching head.

“Golden boy deserves a treat”, Edmund smirks and holds a piece of chocolate to your lips.

You turn your head away.

“Don't touch me!” you cough.

“A little too late for that”, Doctor Kry says and shrugs. “How do you think we got you here?”

You try to get up from the couch. Nausea roars through your body. Jerry pulls the leash towards her. You stumble before falling down on your knees, catching yourself with your hands on the hard cement.

“Just face it”, she says cockily. “You're too hungover to overpower us, and once you're sober enough you will already be broken. Don't bother to try anything. Hm, maybe he should stay on his knees, or what do you all think?”

“Stop fucking around”, Edmund sighs in annoyance and grabs the leash out of her hands, pulling harshly. “Stand up.”

It's on shaking legs that you manage to get on your feet. You're the same height as the king, but feel unbelievably inferior. Is it the collar around your neck, the degrading look in his eyes or the fact that you know what they're capable of that makes you terrified? You can't meet their eyes.

“This is humiliating, can you stop?” you hear Hedwig asks.

She's standing on the far end of their little line, a few steps away from them, with her arms hugging herself. Disgust covers her face.

“I feel nauseous just watching it”, she mutters. 

“Don't worry, Hedwig, we're just playing with him”, Silas smiles and ruffles your hair with his hand. “We're not hurting him.”

“Hedwig shouldn't take him”, Edmund says. “I don't trust him.”

“What do you want?” you ask, trying your best not to sound like a pathetic little puppy.

“What did you do with the list of names?” Silas asks. “The one behind the painting.”

“And where is my fucking painting?” Edmund asks.

“The painting, I don't know”, you say and meet Silas black eyes. “Your list was hidden on board the ship, but my contacts have found it. They're on the way to arrest everyone on your list.”

“Oh, are they now?” he asks deadly calmly. “And I suppose that you are still their shining Golden Boy thanks to that?”

You lower your eyes.

“Or did someone get put on an indefinite hiatus because they're a security risk?” Silas continues, moving closer, tugging ever so carefully on the leash. “Are you sure that you're their favorite? You never seem to have much protection, despite the threat against you. Don't worry, Golden Boy, we will make sure nothing ever reaches you. We will make sure you stay hidden.”

“If they don't want to give us our note, we won't give them their darling dearest”, Jerry says, shrugging.

You feel a lump in your stomach. Your contacts will never give over the note … and in that case they'll never give you. Wonderful.

A tug on the leash brings you back to reality. 

“It's healing quite nicely, don't you think?” Jerry asks, tilting her head to get a better view of the back of your neck.

“It's still fresh, it's nowhere near healing”, Doctor Kry says with his monotone voice, arms crossed over his chest.

Their eyes turn to your neck and you gulp, realizing that part of the pain isn't coming from your head, but from the back of your neck, easily mistaken as the brainstem. You lift your hand and try to touch whatever is hurting you. Hedwig picks up a pocket mirror from her pocket and hand it to you. You’re in disbelief when you see black marks on your skin, drawn in a strange symbol you have never seen before. The skin is swollen and tender to the touch. 

“What is this?” you question in pure fear. 

“We told you that you would be tattooed, didn’t we?” Silas smiles. “That tattoo is the symbol of my group. It’s somewhat of a trademark. Everyone who sees you will know that you belong to me.”

“I hate that you are the only one getting associated”, Edmund mutters. 

“Well, I am the only one with a symbol, aren’t I?”

“You are so self centered.” Edmund puts his hand on Hedwig’s shoulder. “As if we haven’t got one?”

“‘Self centered’, you absolute hypocrite”, Jerry scoffs. 

“I did not consent to this!” you shout angrily. “How could you just tattoo me when I wasn’t even conscious?!”

“It was pretty easy since you were, as you said, ‘not even conscious’”, Silas smiles teasingly. 

“Enough of this foolishness”, Doctor Kry cuts in. “We have things to do. The train leaves tomorrow morning and we still have things to do.”

Train? 

“Give the poor boy some food and make sure he sleeps”, Silas says. “It’ll be a long day for him tomorrow.”

They start to move towards the stairs of the basement, all but Hedwig who have went upstairs to get you a plate and Edmund — the man who’s holding the leash. 

“You don’t have to be here”, she says. “I can take care of him myself.”

“I don’t trust him”, Edmund mutters angrily and wraps more of the leash around his hand. “He knocked Jerry over when she was guarding him and — fuck it — she is tougher than you. I am not letting him anywhere near you alone.”

“Can you at least let go of the leash?” Hedwig asks. 

Edmund lets it go with great dramatic effect. You sit down on the couch with a thumping heartbeat. Hedwig sits down beside you, turning towards you. Edmund stands behind her, towering over the young woman like a giant, glaring at you. It reminds you of a lioness behind their cub. 

“Are you hungry?” Hedwig asks and looks down at the plate. “I’ve watched my maid cook ever since I was a little child but I don’t have much experience with it myself so I apologize if it isn’t the best.”

“I’m nauseous.”

“Then some sleep will do you good.”

“What train did he talk about? I’m not going on some train!”

“You are”, Edmund says, “and you’re doing it tomorrow morning. In a box.”

You look at him, baffled. “What?”

He looks at you with mockery in his icy blue eyes. “Nobody told you? You’re getting a first class ticket. I heard that they make those wooden boxes are quite comfortable nowadays.”

“I’m not going in some fucking box!”

You stand up in a swift, aggressive motion. Not only will they bring you onto a train going to who-knows-where, but they’re also stuffing you in a trunk? No shame. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“My father has a house on the coast, by the beach”, Hedwig replies. “You’ll like it. Hey, If you’re not going to eat, then will you please go to sleep?” 

“I will not be able to sleep. If I have to drink myself to black out, do you really think I will be able to fall asleep here?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. You don’t want to see a sympathetic look from her. It’s their fault, after all. They took everything from you … and now she’s looking at you as if she’s pitying you. 

You refuse to sleep, refuse to even sit on the couch. It doesn't take long before the door to the basement stairs open and the sound of footsteps fill the air. You look up, seeing Doctor Kry walk down. In his hand, he holds a transparent syringe.

“I suppose that you are familiar with this”, he says and looks at the needle. “I thought that it was finally time for you to get acquainted with it.”

“Don't come close”, you warn him.

He's quicker than you've anticipated. Before you know it, you're tackled onto the hard floor. It knocks the air out of your lungs. Doctor Kry is stronger than you could have imagined. He doesn't look muscular underneath his clothes, and he probably isn't as muscular as Silas, but he is strong with firm grips. You try your best to fight against the needle coming closer to your neck.

“Goodnight, Golden Boy”, Doctor Kry says and finally punctures your neck with the sharp end of the needle.

He gets off of you immediately and you try to get up and run. You manage to get a few steps forward before your legs give up and you fall down on your knees. You start to lose your hearing, and your sight start to darken. Doctor Kry grabs your shoulders and pull you over to the couch. The last thing you see before it all turns back is his blue eyes staring down at you.

You’re not sure if you have opened your eyes. You try to shut them tight, then open them again. It’s just as dark. Your knees are pressed to your chin, arms folded over your chest. Panic rises in your body, suddenly feeling every single cell of your body and what it touches. Painfully aware that you’re squashed together in a wooden box. 

“Let me out!” you shout and try to bang on the walls, floor and ceiling. 

A harsh slap on the side of the box makes you flinch. 

“Shut the fuck up”, Silas voice hisses through gritted teeth, shocking you for being too close. “Do not make a single sound, whatever you do.”

You breathe heavily and crawl together. For these past months, you’ve felt scared … but never like this. The only thing you can compare it to is that morning when you ran around the Normandie with the painting tucked under your arm. Your heart has never beaten that quickly before. And here you are now, in a wooden box with a dog collar around your throat and a tattoo in the back of your neck. The leash is gone.

They won’t kill you before they have gotten the list, right?

You hear men's voices and suddenly the box jerks. Your head slams against the side and you groan, quickly biting your lip to avoid making sound. Silas will probably punch you if you disobey his command. You form fists. 

Whoever is handling the box does not care for it. It seems to go back and forth, up and down, with you hitting your head with every jerking motion. 

Finally, finally, it stops. The moving, the sound, everything stops. You breathe out, listening. Where are you? Can you get out of the box? You try to push the top of the box, but it won’t budge. Neither will the walls. With a frustrated yell, you kick and then, in defeat, sink down again. 

Silence keeps you company for what feels like ages. Suddenly, the ground under you start to shake and move. You gasp. The train!

It takes a while before the top of the box is moved. Bright light hits your eyes and you squint. 

“Good morning”, Silas smiles and pulls you up from the box. 

Your muscles are stiff and aching, popping when you try to move. Your legs threaten to give out. 

“Ouch …”, you moan. 

“Did you have a nice time?” Jerry smiles and claps your back. 

You look around, blurry eyes being met by a cargo hold. Silas and Jerry are the only ones here. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, stressed. 

“What do you mean?” Jerry wonders.

“What do you want? Why am I out?”

“Did you think that you were going to spend the entire trip in the box?” Silas asks. 

“Edmund said-”

“And you believe a single word that stuck up manchild says?” Jerry scoffs and grabs your arm. “Come now.”

They take you out of the cargo hold and into a thin corridor. Running along your left are cabins and to your right are windows. Silas opens a door and directs you inside the cabin. It’s a suite, and a gorgeous one a that. A king sized bed, couches, big windows, drapes and your own bathroom. Hedwig and Edmund sits on the couch doctor Kry is leaning against the window. Behind him, America swooshes past. 

“Here he is”, Jerry says.

“What’s going on?” you stutter. “What do you want?”

“We are not going to let you be alone in cargo hold”, Silas says. “We are not monsters.”

I have other opinions.

“We’ve decided that you are going to be by our sides so that we can keep an eye on you”, Hedwig says and smiles. “If you are in the cargo hold you could die.”

“You’re not going to wear the leash because that will cause people to be suspicious”, Doctor Kry says. “Yes, we are not the only ones on this train.”

“You will not talk to any of them”, Jerry says. 

“You will stay here in my cabin”, Silas says. “My second in command will be in Jerry’s cabin, so don’t think that you can do anything towards me. He’ll be just on the other side of the wall.”

Why does he have to be here too? 

Everyone leaves the suite but Silas. You sink down on the bed with your head in your hands. 

“Why do you do this?” you groan.

Silas sits down beside you. “You did this to yourself”, he says, voice weirdly calm. “You put your nose into the wrong business, knowing that it could put your life in danger.”

“It was my job.”

Was. 

“I still don’t understand why they sent you on that ship without backup … or any kind of protection at all besides that pitiful gun. Almost like they wanted you to get caught.” Silas furrows his dark brows and looks at you, unreadable hint in his black eyes. “Are you even sure if they liked you at all?”

This has to be some kind of scare-tactic. Don’t fall for it.

“Of course they did”, you mumble. “I had a high position, a good salary … they liked me. They did.”

“Are you saying that to reassure me or you?”

Silas stands up and breathes out. 

“Let’s go eat lunch, I’m starving”, he says. “You must be hungry too, I heard from Hedwig that you didn’t eat dinner last night. Come now.”

Silas walks out of the room, holding the door open out to the corridor. His words ring in your mind. Who are you trying to reassure?

“I’m not waiting all day”, Silas calls out. “You’re not getting lunch if you stay in there.”

You hurry to stand up and follow him out to the corridor, having to pass him on the way. The thin corridor is big enough for one of you. He walks closely behind you, peering over your shoulder. You’re led into a restaurant car with tables of four, each having seats instead of tables. The carriage is divided in two with a with a glass wall with open space where a door normally sits. Silas chooses one of these seats. 

“Sit down”, he says. “Now. By the window.”

You give him a questionable look before sitting down in the seat closest to the window. Silas sits down beside you, blocking your escape to the middle aisle. His second in command is already sitting by the table in the seat in front of you. Silas holds three menus laying on the set table in front of you, giving you one. 

“Choose what you want”, he says. “I have money.”

“I don’t doubt that”, you mumble. “With your dirty businesses you must make a lot of money?”

Silas scoffs, but there’s a small smile tugging on his lips. “More than you can imagine, Golden Boy.”

You start to look through the menu for things you like. You are, indeed, starving and head for a grilled salmon while Silas chooses a medium rare steak. When a servant is taking your orders, you look out the big window at the blurry obstacles whooshing by. Where are they taking you? You’re not leaving much, but you can’t bring yourself to start over. New York is not for you, not anymore, but you don’t want them to force you to leave your home. What will they do to you? You can’t give them the painting, you don’t know where it is anymore, and you don’t have the list of criminal names. You’re not sure that you will be able to be switched with it. You don’t have anything to offer them, but yourself … but why would they want you? 

“Pretty quiet today, huh?” Silas says. “You usually quite quick-witted.”

You pull your eyes away from the window and look at him. It’s almost comical, how a secret agent is having lunch with a mafia leader and his second in command. You have done it before, but under much different circumstances. 

“I don't have much to say”, you answer shortly. 

Everything in your body is hurting, which isn’t weird since you’ve spent the night crammed into a wooden box. Your broken head is not a help.

Silas converses with his second in command — a man you haven’t heard talk more than necessary. 

The food is served by a servant in a spotless tuxedo and slicked back hair. You thank him. It'd be so easy to let the words slip out of your mouth. A simple ‘help me’. The words are soft and rounded, it wouldn't be hard to pronounce them, but the fact that Silas and his second in command are sitting right here makes it impossible. The words are so simple. But as soon as he arrives, he disappears. 

“I've heard that the food on board is tasty, it better be”, Silas jokes and his second in command chuckles quietly.

He has gotten beef with grilled asparagus. You pick up your knife and fork and start to eat in silence. Silas is right, it’s delicious. Better than any of the food you have aten these last few months. It makes you guilty for enjoying it. 

“I have some rules, Golden Boy”, Silas says from beside you. 

You look at him. You are not a Golden Boy. He said that himself. Silas meets your eyes. 

“If you disobey us”, Silas starts, “by either trying to talk to someone, or come up with some stupid idea to get off the train, I will handcuff you to me, got that?”

Imagining being handcuffed to him, forced to join his every step, not have a single second to yourself is enough to make you shiver. 

“Yeah”, you reply shortly. “I understand.”

You let your eyes wander through the restaurant car, at the other passengers sitting and enjoying their meals. An older man is reading the newspaper while enjoying a bowl of soup, a mother and daughter pair are eating cheeses while chatting. How many on this train belong to Silas? He wouldn’t travel with only one man.

“I’m thinking about getting another car”, Silas smiles at his second in command and shoots a fork full of steak to his lips. “Any tips of a model?”

“One of those Ford models”, he replies. “It was good enough for Bonnie and Clyde.”

The news of the infamous couple’s death broke out in May last year. Some colleagues had been working on that case, from what you remember. For years. 

“I’m not Bonnie and Clyde”, Silas says and smiles. “But I’m a bit jealous of them. Imagine having a partner in crime like that. I mean, more than just a brother in arms, a love partner. Or what do you say, Golden Boy?”

You look up from your plate. Your vision has started to blur again. 

“Don’t you want a love partner, hm?” Silas asks, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Someone to back you up when needed?”

“I don’t want to answer personal questions.”

He exchanges a look with his second in command before smiling into his plate. “You’re shy, I see. Didn’t know that you were so cute.”

You ignore him. 

When lunch is done, Silas decides that it’s time for you to get back to the cabin. You get up, from your seat and scootch out into the middle aisle. You’re not sure if it is the moving of the carriage or your balance that causes you to stumble. Silas catches you by the arm. 

“That wine you had with lunch didn’t make you drunk, did it?” he asks. 

“No”, you reply and gulp. “It’s my head.”

“I see.”

You’re sure that it isn’t meant for you, but you can see how Silas gives his second in command a murderous look. Doctor Kry had told you that it had been Jerry and Silas’s second in command who had hit you with that glass bottle that night. 

“You should go rest, Y/N”, he says and places his hand on your back to guide you. 

He leads you back to your suite. The second in command closes the door behind him. You sit down on the couch, but Silas pulls you up again. 

“What do you think that you are doing?” he asks. “The bed is over there.”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you”, you mumble. 

“You are. Stop being childish and go to sleep.”

You’re pushed towards the bed. He’s quickly after you to pull the neatly fixed covers before you can change your mind. The mattress is softer than anything you’ve ever rested your back upon. 

“Sleep”, Silas orders. “I will get you for dinner.”

He asks his second in command to keep an eye on you. 

The gentle rocking of the train both soothes you to sleep and wakes you softly. You sit up and yawn. The second in command moves his eyes from the window. You can’t help but wonder if he ever does anything for pleasure or if he can turn off his emotions and needs whenever he wants. 

You reach for a glass of water on the bedside table and halt. After everything they’ve done, you wouldn’t be surprised if the water is contaminated. 

“It’s not dinner time”, the man says. “Back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired anymore.”

“Lay down.”

You sigh and lay down again, listen to the gentle rocking of the train against the rail. Last time you spent a night in a cabin with them was when you were tied on the floor. You should never have taken that mission. Your mind involuntarily drift to what Silas had said and feel how your heart squeezes in pain. It can’t be.

Suddenly, the door opens. 

“Time for dinner”, Silas says. “Get up, you need to eat.”

You groan and pull yourself up from the bed. The second in command follows closely to the restaurant cart. One table can only fit four passengers. They have to separate three and three, and then you’ll have to choose whichever combination is the least bad.

Hedwig, Edmund and Doctor Kry … or Silas, Jerry and the second in command. You sit down besides Hedwig. Edmund is quick to have her change seats with you, so that you’re by the window and she’s blocking the exit out to the middle aisle. The girl smiles at you and takes your hand. 

“You look much better without that inhumane leash”, she says. 

“I think he looks better with it”, Edmund mutters and inspect his silver knife. 

She ignores him. “What do you want to eat, sweetheart?”

You shrug, telling her that she can choose for you. You don’t say anything throughout dinner, even though Hedwig tries her best to spark a conversation with you. She talks about the scenery swooshing past outside the window, the beautiful interior, how much she has missed you and how happy she is to have you back. You drown it all out to the point of wondering if her voice is all just a hallucination.

You’re barely active during dinner, only being able to think about your — former — job. Heart feeling unbelievably heavy.

“I have to leave”, you whisper to Hedwig. “I have to be alone.”

“Are you okay?” Hedwig asks worriedly and watches how you stand up. 

“I need to go.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She excuses the both of you from the table. You can feel the others eyes linger on you, burn right through you. You’re sure that Edmund wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut for once. Hedwig takes your arm and leads you back to the cabin carriage. 

“I don’t understand why they’re so afraid of me being alone with you”, Hedwig giggles and opens the door to Silas’s suite. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

At this point you’re not sure what you would and wouldn’t do. 

“Do you want to sleep?” Hedwig asks and walks over to the bed. “I can tuck you in.”

You lay down in bed and Hedwig makes sure that none of your body parts escapes the covers. She looks pleased with herself and lets her hand caress your cheek. Her hazel eyes look down at you with immense love and for the moment that is the only thing you can believe. That kind of look can’t be mistaken. 

“Are you tired?” she asks softly, continuing to caress your cheek. 

You nod, despite not feeling the slightest bit tired. Exhausted, but not tired. 

“I will let you sleep”, she says and kisses your forehead. 

You close your eyes, hoping that she will think that you’re asleep and leave the room. You need to be alone, but Hedwig is making it impossible. As long as she knows that you’re awake, she will cling onto you like a leech. She’s like a dog, a puppy. 

But she doesn’t leave. You can feel her sit on the side of the bed, and without opening your eyes, you know that she is staring at you with that same look of extreme love. As if you are the most important thing in the world. Her sun, her solar system. 

Eventually, she leaves. You wait a few seconds before opening your eyes and letting out a sigh. Lying down makes it hard to breathe. You try sitting up, but the pressure over your chest remains. You pull at your tie to open your airways, but neither that or buttoning up the first buttons on your shirt help. Your fingers claw at the window lock, but it remains in place. God, how badly you need air. You hurry over to the door and open it, exiting out to the corridor. They can get you, you don’t care. You need air and you need it now. 

You walk through the claustrophobic corridor in the opposite direction of the dining hall. You reach a door with a window. The rails run away from the train, towards the horizon. You rip the door open and find yourself on a balcony. Fresh air roams around you and you grab onto the oval railing, breathing in deeply until your lungs can’t take anymore, welcoming the pleasurable feeling of light headiness. You sink down on the floor with your back towards the train’s wall, watching the surroundings disappear further away. The sun is setting in the horizon, like in a painting. 

The thoughts return. Was everything a lie? Were you nothing more than a pawn? Why were you put on that mission? Did they know that you would be taken? Broken? Damaged? They didn’t bother give you any security or backup, and when you weren’t killed or taken, they use the trauma they caused to put you on hiatus and made you look at fault. You have worked for them since you left school, given them your everything. Did they want to get rid of you? Were you worth nothing more? Did they ever care about you?

Suddenly you’re aware of the tears running down your cheeks.

“There you are”, a voice sighs. 

You flinch and look over your shoulder. Jerry is standing in the doorframe, holding her hands on either side.  Out of all the people who could find you, why did it have to be just Jerry?

“Everyone is looking for you”, Jerry says. 

“Didn’t mean to”, you mumble. 

“You better have a good explanation.” 

She sits down on the other side of the door, in arms reach of you. The door closes behind her, leaving the two of you on the balcony platform. It’s first now that she seems to notice that you’re crying. 

“Oh, what’s wrong?” she asks in a sarcastic tone, clearly mocking you. “Feeling homesick?”

“No”, you sigh and look down at your hands. “Just leave me alone.”

“Can’t do, princess. You are not allowed to be alone, you know that very well. But sure, I can leave. I can tell the other that you have attempted to escape.”

Your hand shoots forward to stop her from leaving. “No, don’t say that!”

“Then tell me. Hurry up, princess, I don’t got all night!”

You sigh and rest your head back against the wall. She’s doing it on purpose, you think, riling you up to the breaking point so that she has something to punish you for. 

“Jerry, stop”, you plead and hold your head in your hands. “I’m asking you nicely. Don’t do that.”

“In what position do you think you are to speak to me like that? Do I need to go get the leash to remind you who you are? Hm? Is that what you want, Golden Boy?”

The name breaks something in you. You feel so stupid. Like an absolute fool!

“Don’t call me that!” you shout. “I never was a fucking ‘Golden Boy’! They just used me! And I just let them do it! Like the idiot I am!”

Your head pounds worse than ever. You’re afraid that it is going to rip out of your skull. You can feel how Jerry moves closer. 

“They never fucking cared about me”, you hiss. “No one does!”

“Now, who told you that?” Jerry sighs.

“It’s obvious! Just look at how they’re treating me! They wanted to get rid of me, that’s why they sent me on that ship, wasn’t it …?”

Jerry sighs heavily and runs her hand through her black hair. “Well, fuck … I don’t know what the fuck to say.”

“Be quiet, then.”

You don’t want to hear her ‘I told you so’ mantra. You’ve understood how much of an idiot you are, you don’t need her to remind you. She removes your hands and forces you to look at her. 

“It does not fucking matter what they thought of you, okay?” she says. “I get that they tricked you but you’re never going back there, so drop them. They’re not worthy of your attention. Just look at what a mess you become when you think of them! And I don’t want to hear that shit again, about no one caring about you. We have looked for you day and night since that last night on the ship!”

“That’s different. You know that. You won’t get the list or the painting. If they wanted me gone, they won’t trade me for it. I’m useless to you.”

She sighs frustratedly and runs her hand through her black hair again. 

“Fuck, I am not made for this”, she mutters and looks around for help, but the only thing nearby are the passing landscape. “Listen, Y/N, we could have done things a whole lot differently. We didn’t actually need you, alright? Not for business. Hell, we don’t even want the same things! Me and Silas are the only ones wanting the list. Edmund wants his painting. I don’t even know what the doctor and Hedwig want, but do you know the only reason why the five of us stay together? Because of you, dumbass.”

She grabs your head and holds it to her chest, letting you cry. 

“The term ‘Golden Boy’ isn’t just because of your job, it’s more than that. Don’t take it the wrong way. Now stop talking like that, it is getting on my nerves. Pity yourself to someone else.”

Silence. You listen to the rattling sound, the wind and Jerry's irregular breathing.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask quietly, emotionlessly. “Why did they do that to me?”

“I don’t know, Y/N”, Jerry answers softly. “Some people are horrible. There is a difference between people who's openly bad, and those that pretend to be good but are rotting on the inside. I can’t stand those people. If you’re going to be a bad person, at least stand for it.”

“I feel like a fool.”

“You are a fool, but it isn’t your fault. You did what you had been told, like everyone else.”

“I wish that I knew why they decided to let me go … I mean, that way I could have prevented it … or fixed it.”

“Stop thinking about it. I told you that you’ll never deal with those people again. You’re with us now.”

You sigh. Listening to Jerry’s heart beat makes you want to laugh at how hard it is beating when she has acted like she doesn’t have one. 

“Get up”, she says after a while. “We can’t sit here the entire night. It’s starting to get cold.”

You drag yourself up on your feet. Jerry takes your hand and leads you back inside. Warmth hugs you the second you reenter the thin corridor. She takes you back to Silas’s cabin where you find him arguing with his second in command. You catch something along the lines of ‘you hit him so hard he’s lost his mind’ and don’t have to think twice to know who he is talking about. A new punch in the chest. Does everyone view you that way? As a loser who can’t take care of himself after what happened? As a dog?

“Where have you been?” Silas asks angrily. “Wasn’t I very clear what would happen if you tried to leave?”

“I didn’t fucking try to leave!” you burst out, unable to do anything else beside matching his energy. “How could I when the train is moving at two hundred kilometers per hour?!”

“Yeah? What were you doing then?”

How dense is he?

“I tried to get one second to myself to try to think! My life is falling apart and no one is caring! Everyone is just mocking me!” Tears blur your vision. “Why is no one treating me like an actual human being?! No one respects me!”

Your knees give out. The carpeted floor does nothing when you fall. A few seconds pass where you’re left to sob in silence before a pair of arms wrap around you. They’re too muscular to be Jerry’s and the second in command would never touch you. It has to be Silas. 

“Get up, Y/N”, Silas says. “You need to sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

He tells Jerry to get the doctor and she disappears out of the room. Doctor Kry comes in two minutes later. In his hands he holds an identical syringe to the one he injected you with before you got onto the train. Silas holds you down as the sharp needle pricks your arm. You can feel the foreign — yet painfully familiar — substance enters your bloodstream. Damn them, you think before the darkness swallows you, damn all of them.

You wake up with him sitting by the round table. He’s already dressed. You wonder how long that syringe makes you sleep. 

“Good morning”, Silas says. 

“Hi”, you mumble as memories from yesterday wash over you, like an ice cold shower. 

“I thought that you’ll stay here for breakfast. I’ve already ordered room service.”

Your eyes lay upon the silver tray with coffee, toast and waffles on the table, when you sit up. 

“Jerry filled me in about what you talked about”, Silas says. “I don’t want more of that, got it? You don’t get to run around causing havoc like that. You need to tell us instead of getting a melt down. Surprise, we might actually help you.”

You scoff and roll your head against the headboard. “You don't want to help. You just want to hurt me.”

Silas sighs. 

“Is that why I have tattooed my symbol on you?” he asks. “To hurt you?”

You don’t answer. How should you know?

“It never crossed your mind that I tattooed that on you so that you wouldn’t leave?” Silas asks. “Maybe because I want you here?”

“It doesn’t excuse what you have done.”

“Okay, maybe not, but ask yourself something, Y/N: where would you go if not here?”

You try to avoid his dark eyes. They burn right through you, confirming everything you have been thinking. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to stay. Nowhere where you are safe, nowhere where you feel like home. Not anymore. The only thing that kept you in New York was the pride in your job and now, if you go back, the only thing that is associated with that city is shame and hurt. With Silas tattoo on your neck, no one will want to have anything to do with you, for fear of him. 

Silas leaves you be. He doesn’t ask you questions, doesn’t try to get you on better thoughts or distract you. He lets you sit by the table with him, lets you feel your feelings. Lets you try to sort out the fog in your head. 

“How long do we have until we reach Hedwig’s house?” you ask after a while. “I’m getting tired of people.”

“Two days”, Silas answers. “You’ll like it. It’s far away from everyone and everything. You’ll be able to go somewhere quiet, where you can rest for once.”

The thought of resting makes you almost tear up. You can’t recall the last time you actually had a moment of peace. 

“I don’t know what you want, I don’t have anything more to give you”, you mumble. “I don’t have the painting, or the list of names, or any contacts. You can’t trade me for the list, and it’s too late now. They’ve already seen the names.”

“We don’t care about the list anymore”, Silas says. “When are you going to realize that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t seem to … think.”

Silas grabs your neck and pushes your head onto his shoulder. You let him. And there it rests until you’re feeling better. 

You decide to get out of the cabin before it’s going to swallow you whole. You make your way down the carriages until you get to the lounge. People sit chit-chatting in their seats, drinking tea. You wonder how many of them belong to Silas, how many eyes he has on board. You do your best not to stare at any of them. Instead, you walk towards an empty table and sit down by the window, staring out towards the horizon. You’ve never been so … lost before. And yet, you feel better — just a tad bit. One day at a time. Things will be fine. Hopefully. 

“Good afternoon”, you hear a voice. 

You look up to see Edmund carrying a deck of cards. 

“ Have you finished sulking now?” he asks. 

You don’t answer. Not even these kinds of stupid questions deserve stupid answers.

“If you have, why don’t we play a game of cards?” Edmund asks and sits down in front of you. 

“Sure”, you sigh. “What do you want to play?”

“What can you play?”

“A little poker, I suppose.”

“Good. Let’s play.”

Edmund starts to sort the cards. He shuffles them skillfully. 

“What do we play about?” he asks. “What do i get if I win?”

“What do i get if I win?” you conquer. 

A spark ignites in Edmund’s eyes and for once, it gives him a human touch. He leans forward, over the table, and smirks. 

“What do you want, Golden Boy?” he asks. 

You think about it. What do you want? 

“I don’t know”, you reply and when he rolls his eyes, you add: “I actually don’t know. A bit more freedom, maybe.”

“Oh, as in?” Edmund asks. 

“Be able to walk around freely without anyone going insane, like yesterday. I can’t run anywhere on here, now can I? Just being able to go wherever I want on the train whenever I want would be a comfort.”

“Alright, I can work with that. And if I win?”

“What do you want?”

Edmund leans back in his seat and looks out the window, thinking. 

“You need to call me ‘your majesty’ or ‘your royal highness’ from now on”, he says, looking pleased. 

Any traces of humbleness is gone. 

“Haven’t I been humiliated enough?” slips out of you before you have the time to stop yourself. 

Edmund smiles boyishly. “Nope. Not nearly enough.”

There’s a small tug at your heart, and your first instinct is to feel offended … but you can’t help but feel relieved that, while the others are trying to keep you from breaking down, Edmund is still the same. 

You smile slightly. 

“Alright, let’s start”, you say. 

He’s a skillful player with sharp eyes. You wonder who he has trained with. 

“Oh, you’re an idiot, Y/N.”

Doctor Kry stands by the table, watching the table amusedly with his arms crossed over his chest. Edmund grins up at him. 

“Aren’t I smart?” he asks and nods at you. “This dumbass has to call me by my title — as he should have from the start — from now on.”

“The game isn’t over yet”, you remind him.

“Just throw the towel in and die a hero. That way you’ll have some dignity left.”

“No.”

Edmund shrugs. “Alright.”

You’re not sure how, but you manage to beat him. Doctor Kry laughs behind his hand. Edmund glares at him.

“Beginner's luck”, he insists.

“Good job, your majesty, now you've given him free roam over the entire train”, the doctor says.

“Don't get so fucking happy, doc, I can still have you executed”, Edmund warns him with dark eyes. “I don't care if Silas has you under his protection.”

Doctor Kry doesn’t seem affected. “It’s just a day.”

“This motherfucker did quite much in a day last time.”

“I’d like to see our friend Axel Ainsworth trying to do his stunts here.”

You rise from your chair and bid farewell to the two men, happy to show that you are allowed to walk away. Your last day on board won’t be too bad, you reckon. 

You take the time to sort out your thoughts and think. Sitting in the lounge, looking out the window with a glass of whiskey, listening to the sounds of the train moving and the other guests chitchatting. Your head starts to make sense, for the first time in months. Your heart beats in your chest. You hate them, hate what they did to you. How they played you. How they used you for bait. 

“Can I sit down?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts. Hedwig stands by the armchair in front of you, wearing a sweet pink dress. You nod. She squeals and sits down, looking giddy. 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” she asks. “Maybe something to dilute the whiskey with? Drinking on an empty stomach isn’t good, you know?”

“What do you know about that?” you ask. “Are you a heavy drinker?”

“No, but Edmund is … and I guess that you can imagine how ha is when he is drunk.”

“I’m not drunk … but yes, i can imagine how he would be. He’s not the politest sober either.”

“He’s nice, in his own way.” She shakes her head, as if she’s shaking herself free from thoughts. “How are you feeling? I heard that you had some troubles. Do you want to share them with me?”

“No, I’m okay, I think I got it now. It’s been nice to sit and think … to deal with it myself.”

“What have you come up with?”

“That I don’t want anything to do with those bastards in New York anymore. If I had the list, I’d give it to Silas and Jerry. I wish I had written down the names.”

“You remember some of them, don’t you?”

She picks up a notebook out of her purse and places it on the table. A golden pen is connected to it. 

“Write them down”, she says. 

You stare at the notebook, questioning if you really should give away the little information you know. You would never have done that before. An old saying pops into your head — my enemie’s enemy is my friend. 

You pick up the pen.

[dollescent]

𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

08/04/23

so, i was in sleep paralysis (keep in mind i have sleep paralysis with my eyes open always), and i wasn’t panicked or anything because I’ve been experiencing sleep paralysis since i was like 10 (it doesn’t happen really frequently anymore though). so i was honestly just thinking to myself, "should i try to LD or AP?" so i tried to AP and it wasn’t working for me (for some reason i was in pain??), so instead, i decided to try and shift. also i had never even considered the SP method for shifting before so this was all so crazy to me.

so for some background, i was previously having a dream where i was running away from something but i felt myself entering SP and I could barely move in the dream. so i wanted to shift to a reality where i was able to run away. so i started to visualize myself running in a 3rd person POV. and it was crazy because i have aphantasia, so i usually don’t see anything when i visualize but this time i literally was able to!!

this was so trippy too. but i visualized myself zooming into myself that was running, and began to visualize in first person. once i did, i was going through a “tunnel” with red and black lights. i cannot describe it and i was kind of scared but yes y’all, i shifted with my eyes open!!

so i just keep on affirming that I’m shifting and once I get to the end of the tunnel, my eyes in my DR were already slightly open but they widened when i fully shifted there, but my vision was a bit blurry (i could tell that i was napping in this reality). it was so crazy like, it was just like this reality, in fact it felt even more realll. please don’t give up like it is so fucking worth it.

when i shifted, didn’t have a specific DR in mind so i don’t know where i’m at but it’s so crazy cause i just get this feeling that i’m at my cousin’s place. it looked so different but it was really nice. So I was sitting on the couch in the living room and i stand up to go look around for other people. (also i felt so heavy at first y’all) but I walk past the kitchen and there is a balcony facing outside and I see all my family on the balcony.

something things that were different,

❀ my dad was holding a baby girl and i could feel that she was my lil sis (is this reality my parents stopped having kids like 9yrs ago and i only have 3 younger brothers)

❀ there was this family friend named gilliana that was there, never seen this girl before but she was chill. also i just knew that was her name.

❀ my cousin had a different hairstyle, his hairline was botched low key 😭😭☠️☠️☠️

❀ my cousin and aunt’s apartment was way bigger and on the first floor, and my uncle wasn’t there. there was also sm furniture in the living room but the place was sooooo nice!

so the balcony was on the first floor facing the courtyard and that day that there was a food truck there that had cameroonian food. it looked and smelled so good!!! the poisson braisé (braised fish) had me damn near drooling. my mom told me “c'est trop cher” which means, it’s so expensive in french. but I was like idcccc i’m getting a plate! And i wanted to, but took a step back and i shifted back. also ik 100% that it was a shift because i never dream in french, even though im bilingual.

why I shifted back,

❀ i kept on wondering on whether i was acting natural or not because i felt a little, idk how to express it but a bit out of it? and i didn’t want them to think i’m behaving differently

❀ i also kept thinking about my cr lmao and I realized that i would really miss my family here if i were to permashift, which is a feeling i didn’t know i had

❀ i also was not very grounded lol, and i wasn’t there for long, just 5min

some tips and words of advice,

❀ ps, feel free to ask any questions

❀ whenever you have a dream, just tell yourself that you had shifted instead, especially if it’s about your DR

❀ WBTB METHOD YALL!!!! anytime that i’ve lucid dreamed, nearly AP’d, and have had the most vivid dreams, it has been when i incorporated this method. and i do it so habitually. like my friends always joke abt how i sleep in 2 parts

❀ make shifting a lifestyle. now i’m not saying to revolve your life around shifting, but when i started incorporating reality checks and affirmations in my daily life (it literally all takes 10s) it has become a habit. because before, i would never think to try and shift while in SP

❀ honestly just believe in yourself, it’s harder than it sounds but you’re the only thing that can make yourself shift, even if you have doubts and frustrations, that’s not gonna stop yourself from doing SHITTT

❀ pls do not expect your experience to be like mine at all or compare yours to others. i have never heard of anybody shifting with their eyes open before. and also i didn’t experience any symptoms at all, which was not surprising because I never do

anyways hope this was interesting, xoxo ˚ ༘ .˚🌱୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

[mixxiew]

under the eclipse | 7dream

𖦹°‧ pairing: read and find out! (or read the tags but it will spoil everything lol!)

𖦹°‧ genre: angst! angst! did i say angst? yeah basically lots of drama

𖦹°‧ word count: 15k 🙂‍↕️

𖦹°‧ cw: infedelity!!, internalized homophobia, swearing, they will fight! a lot! so just know that, haechan really suck :(, jeno is not so kind :( yeah

- the story is clearly referring to the film “Perfect Strangers” directed by Paolo Genovese. i watched some nights ago and thought i couldn’t not write it with dreamies :) i just love drama. hope you enjoy it!

summary: a group of old friends gets together for dinner. one of them proposes a game, where everyone shares every text and call they receive during the day with each other, causing secrets to surface under the eclipse.

author’s note! this work is purely fiction and it isn’t meant to romanticize any of the thing it portrays. also I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the characters to their real life counterparts. all the rights goes to the author of the “perfect strangers” story, i just added my personal taste to it.

Mark adjusted the heat under the saucepan, stirring the sauce with slow, methodical movements. Across the kitchen island, Yunhee was slicing tomatoes with quiet focus, pausing now and then to glance up at him.

“Long day?” she asked, brushing the diced tomatoes into a bowl.

Mark gave a short, dry laugh. “Long doesn’t begin to cover it. Three consultations back-to-back. Everyone seems to be preparing for the new year with a new face.” He smirked, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of people investing so much in a jawline.”

Yunhee smiled, her gaze soft. “Maybe they’re hoping a fresh face will mean a fresh start. There’s a reason people obsess over appearances, you know.” She leaned closer, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. “They believe it’s a fix for something deeper.”

He set down the wooden spoon, his expression thoughtful. “Do you really think that’s what it is?”

She nodded, her voice low, like she was sharing a secret. “I see it every day. People come to me believing there’s a magic answer to their unhappiness, and sometimes they think it’s found in something—or someone—outside themselves. In a new face, or a new job, or a new relationship.”

Mark watched her, feeling a familiar, quiet admiration. He stepped around the island and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes, savoring the touch, then looked up at him, and their eyes met.

“You ever wonder if we’re just… treating symptoms?” he asked softly. “That we’re both just polishing the surface?”

Yunhee smiled, reaching up to brush her thumb along his cheek. “Sometimes, yes. But sometimes, even the smallest shift can mean a lot to someone. We help them see themselves differently, in whatever way we can.”

He pulled her in, their lips meeting in a slow, familiar kiss, the world outside the kitchen momentarily forgotten. When they finally pulled back, they lingered close, eyes locked.

They shared a warm smile, the familiarity of their daily banter wrapping around them. Yunhee took a sip of wine, leaning in a little closer as she asked, “Are you looking forward to tonight?”

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Sure. Just hope everyone’s up for a good time. Chenle is also bringing is new girlfriend right? That’s awesome. Hope we stay out of drama today, we need to make a good impression or she’ll ran away like the others.”

She chuckled, nudging him with her elbow. “Since when have our friends ever managed a night without drama?”

Mark laughed, opening his mouth to respond.

“I’m afraid you’re right…as always.”

Chinsun balanced her phone between her shoulder and ear, rummaging through her purse with one hand while listening intently. “Yes, Mrs. Kim, I understand. Keep Pepper calm, and try the ointment I recommended. If he’s still limping tomorrow, call me first thing, okay?”

Haechan watched her from across the room, a mischievous grin spreading over his face. He tiptoed over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his lips to her neck. She stifled a laugh, glancing back at him with a playful scowl.

“Yes, I promise, it’s perfectly safe for him. Just—oh!” She clamped her mouth shut as Haechan’s hands roamed up her waist, pulling her closer. “Uh-huh… yes, exactly… oh, stop!” she whispered urgently, trying to wave him off, but she was already laughing.

Haechan’s grin only widened as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a swift, playful kiss. With a sigh, Chinsun quickly wrapped up the call. “No no,I wasn’t talking to you Mrs. Kim…call me tomorrow if anything changes, okay? Great. Bye!” She hung up, spinning around to face him with an amused smile.

“Couldn’t resist me, huh?” Haechan teased, raising an eyebrow.

Chinsun rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe, but you’re too hot, I couldn’t stop myself” he replied with a smirk, and before she could say anything more, he kissed her again, slow and lingering this time, the kind of kiss that blurred time and erased any thoughts of being anywhere else.

Moments later, Chinsun’s laugh echoed through the room as he swept her into his arms, and their dinner were momentarily forgotten.

Some time passed before they were finally ready, a little flushed and breathless. She smoothed her dress, fixing her hair with a small, secret smile as they grabbed their things and headed for the door.

“We’re definitely going to be late” she murmured, glancing at him as they stepped outside.

Haechan just grinned, reaching for her hand. “I’m so ready for the second course tho.”

He said, earning a little smack on his shoulder.

“Jaemin!” Soyul’s voice rang out from the bedroom as she hurriedly tossed through her jewelry box, searching for the bracelet she swore she’d set aside earlier. “Did you feed the cats yet?”

Jaemin sighed, stifling a smile as he finished scooping cat food into two separate bowls. “Already on it!” he called back. “And don’t worry—Minho’s food is in his ‘exclusive dining area,’ just like you asked.” He chuckled, glancing down as Minho, their older tabby, pawed at his bowl impatiently, while Luna, their younger, more mischievous cat, watched him with a sly look, clearly eyeing Minho’s food.

“Thank you!” she replied, sounding both grateful and a bit distracted as she continued the whirlwind search for her missing bracelet. A few seconds later, she darted out of the bedroom, one heel on, the other in her hand, a brush tangled in her hair, and a tube of mascara balanced between her lips.

Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “You’re a one-woman hurricane tonight,” he said, stepping over to her. Before she could protest, he gently took the brush from her hand and began working it through her hair, smoothing out the tangles with easy, familiar strokes. She gave a small sigh, visibly relaxing as she focused on finishing her mascara.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she murmured, finally setting her makeup down. “How do you stay so calm all the time?”

Jaemin smirked, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I have to be calm. Someone has to keep track of everything you lose” he teased. “Besides, I like seeing you a little flustered—keeps things interesting.”

Soyul shot him a playful look, nudging his shoulder. “Well, if you’re so organized, where’s my bracelet?”

With a smirk, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver bracelet, holding it up with a satisfied grin. “Right where I found it—by the coffee machine.”

She laughed, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist and giving him a grateful kiss on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

He pulled her close, his hand lingering at her waist while he started to leave soft kisses on his revealed shoulder.

Just as she leaned in for a kiss, a loud knock sounded at the door. They exchanged a quick, amused look before Jaemin pulled away to answer it.

At the door stood Jeno and Daeun, bundled in coats, with Jeno holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a casual grin on his face. “Finally! You two are slowpokes tonight” he teased, stepping in.

Daeun rolled her eyes, giving Jeno a playful nudge. “Says the guy who took twenty minutes deciding which wine to bring. You’re the reason we almost missed them!”

Jeno held up the bottle defensively. “Hey, this isn’t just any wine. This is a classic—goes perfectly with any dinner party. Mark and Yunhee are going to be impressed.”

Daeun scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Classic? You mean it was on sale, don’t you?”

Soyul laughed, tugging on her second heel as she stepped over to them. “You two really sound like an old married couple,” she teased, exchanging a smile with Jaemin.

Jeno shot her a look. “Better that than making everyone late because someone couldn’t find her bracelet” he retorted, grinning as Soyul playfully slapped his arm.

“Alright, alright” Daeun said with a laugh, hooking her arm through Jeno’s. “Let’s not turn this into a roast. We all know we can’t keep Mark and Yeeri waiting too long anyway—they’ve probably already started judging our punctuality.”

With a shared laugh, the four of them gathered their coats, scarves, and the wine bottle before stepping outside into the cool evening air. They walked together, arms linked or hands clasped, a relaxed rhythm to their steps as they strolled toward Mark and Yeeri’s place just a few blocks away.

As they walked, Daeun nudged Jeno’s shoulder, a mischievous smile on her face. “So, what other fancy items did you look at before you settled on that bottle?”

Jeno rolled his eyes, pretending to think. “Well, I did consider that other ‘vintage’ blend—super exclusive, and only double the price.”

The group laughed, Jaemin shaking his head. “Guess we should be grateful we got a sale-priced classic instead. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll actually taste good.”

“Hey!” Jeno protested, putting on a wounded expression as they turned onto Mark and Yeeri’s street. “One day you’ll all appreciate my refined taste.”

With another round of laughter, the group finally arrived at the doorstep, feeling light and happy as they prepared for the night ahead.

Mark stirred the sauce simmering on the stove, adding a pinch more basil as Yunhee sliced fresh herbs beside him. The kitchen was filled with the rich aromas of their cooking, and they exchanged small smiles as they worked in comfortable rhythm.

The doorbell rang, and Yunhee glanced at the clock. “Someone’s early” she murmured, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked to the door.

She opened it to find Renjun standing there, a small box of pastries balanced in his hands and an easy smile on his face. “Brought dessert” he announced, stepping inside as she welcomed him with a warm hug.

“You’re a lifesaver” she said, guiding him into the kitchen. “Mark was worried I might have to make my own pastries, and we all know how that would’ve turned out.”

Mark raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I was all for a backup plan. Just didn’t want the dessert to be… a learning experience.”

Renjun laughed, setting the pastries on the counter. “Well, I’m here to save the day.“

Yunhee smirked, giving a glass of wine to the boy, catching Mark’s amused glance. “So…Junnie, let’s talk about you little love life mh? I’ve been trying to introduce you to my friend Hana, and you bailed out the last time I invited you two to coffee. You’ve got to give her a chance—she’s perfect for you!”

Renjun shook his head, chuckling. “Perfect, huh? Yunhee, i know she’s probably nice, but it just… didn’t feel right. Plus, you know I’m terrible with setups. I’d rather meet someone by chance, not like it’s an appointment.”

Mark chuckled, nodding in agreement. “C’mon baby he’s right, quit playing cupid and let him enjoy his freedom while he still can”

Yunhee raised her eyebrows looking at her fiancé. “Markie what do you mean by that mh?”

The latter was quick to shake his head. “Nothing, my love, of course.”

The three of them started to laugh before Yunhee leaned back against the counter, smirking. “Alright, enough about Renjun’s future. What do we think about Chenle’s mystery date tonight? He’s been so secretive.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “I’m betting she’s someone new around here. He wouldn’t give up any details, and it’s strange, you know how he is- always yapping about everything”

Renjun leaned against the counter too, thinking. “Well, if he’s bringing her to meet everyone, she’s got to be someone special. Or at least, someone he thinks can handle this bunch.”

Yunhee grinned. “Well, let’s hope she knows what she’s getting into. I feel like if she’s too shy, she might just make a run for it.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Jaemin’s voice called from the other side. “Hellooo, are we still welcome?”

Yunhee grinned, dashing over to let them in. Jaemin and Soyul, along with Jeno and Daeun, stood at the entrance, bundled in scarves and coats, with Jeno proudly holding the bottle of wine. They each gave hugs all around before peeling off layers, handing their coats to Yun.

“We brought wine!” Jeno announced, holding up the bottle like a prize.

“And he spent way too long picking it out” Daeun teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Jaemin smirked. “Should be glad it’s not a box of cheap beer.”

As they joined everyone in the kitchen, Soyul shot a curious look at the group. “So, we were trying to guess, what kind of girl do you think Chenle’s bringing?”

Mark crossed his arms, sighing. “Renjun thinks she’s got to be special to handle us. Otherwise, Chenle wouldn’t bother even dare to introduce her.”

Jeno shook his head, amused. “Maybe she’s just a decoy—he’s bringing her in so we don’t bother him about settling down. You know how he likes to mess with us.”

The room filled with laughter, just as another knock echoed from the door. Before Yunhee could answer, it swung open, and Haechan and Chinsun entered, both looking slightly flushed and disheveled. Haechan was grinning wide, while Chinsun scanned the room a bit embarassed before her gaze started lighting up the moment it fell on Renjun.

“Renjun!” Chinsun exclaimed, her face brightening as she hurried over to him. She wrapped him in an warm hug, her laugh light as she pulled back. “I didn’t think you’d get here before us! This is a rare sight.”

Renjun returned her smile. “Well, I had to beat you to the food somehow” he teased, feeling the slight blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Oh please” she replied with a laugh, her hand lingering on his arm for just a moment longer than necessary.

Mark and Jaemin exchanged a quick, knowing glance, amused at Chinsun’s enthusiasm. Haechan, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow at her, his usual playful smirk returning as he slipped an arm around her waist. “Careful, baby—you’re making it sound like Renjun’s your date.”

Chinsun rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush. I’m just happy to see everyone. Now, what were y’all were gossiping about?”

Jaemin chuckled, nudging Haechan’s shoulder. “We were actually placing bets on whether you’d show up at all. Or if you’d just call it a night in the car.”

Haechan feigned offense, crossing his arms. “Excuse me, we’re responsible adults. We’d never show up late… without a good reason.”

Yunhee shot him a playful glare, giving him a light slap on the arm. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

Haechan grinned at her. “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t love me any other way.”

The group laughed, and as everyone settled into the cozy kitchen, the talk naturally returned to Chenle’s mystery date.

“Knowing Chenle, he’s probably picked someone who can throw some shade right back at him,” Jaemin said thoughtfully. “He’d get bored with anyone who can’t keep up with his jokes.”

Daeun raised her glass. “That’s why I’m hoping she’s someone who’ll make Chenle nervous for a change.”

“Or someone who’ll give us a good story,” Haechan added with a smirk. “I don’t know, I’m expecting something outrageous.”

Yunhee raised an eyebrow at him. “Be nice. Don’t make her feel like she’s on trial.”

Haechan grinned, unfazed. “Come on, Yunhee, we’re all curious. Besides, isn’t it what else are friends for?”

With laughter and glasses raised, the group settled into the easy flow of conversation, waiting to see just what surprises the night would bring.

The kitchen buzzed with chatter as Mark, Yunhee and their friends huddled around, everyone passing theories back and forth about Chenle’s mystery date. Glasses clinked as Haechan cracked one last joke.

Just then the doorbell rang, and in an instant, the group went quiet, eyes widening. Soyul clutched Jaemin’s arm, and Daeun leaned forward, excitement lighting up her face.

“Alright, moment of truth!” Jeno whispered.

Yunhee looked Mark. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go answer it!”

With an amused grin, the said boy made his way to the door, the rest of the group following closely behind him, crowding together as if each wanted to be the first to lay eyes on Chenle’s mystery girl. Mark took a deep breath, adding to the suspense, before pulling open the door with a dramatic flourish.

But standing on the doorstep, looking slightly taken aback by the crowd gathered in the doorway, there was Chenle—completely and utterly alone, with only a bottle of whiskey in hand.

“Hey, everyone!” he said, smiling and giving a small wave.

An exaggerated groan came from Haechan as he dramatically slapped his forehead. “Chenle, are you serious? I’ve been holding my breath here!”

Daeun put her hands on her hips, her expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “Just you?”

Chenle looked around, his gaze moving from one disappointed face to another. “Whoa, did I walk into some kind of intervention? What’s with the whole welcoming committee?”

Yunhee stepped forward, unable to hold back a chuckle. She gave him a warm hug, patting his back with a sigh. “We thought you’d be bringing someone special! Don’t tell me you left us hanging on purpose?”

Chenle chuckled, hugging her back. “Hey, it’s not like I planned this just to mess with you all!”

“Could’ve fooled us” Jaemin teased, crossing his arms. “With all that build-up, we thought you were finally bringing your big mystery girl.”

Chenle sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright—let me explain. I was supposed to bring someone. Her name’s Jiul, but she came down with a fever this afternoon. She really wanted to come, but she could barely get out of bed.”

“Right…” Haechan raised an eyebrow, shooting him a skeptical look. “And I’m supposed to believe you’re not just making up some imaginary girlfriend because you love a good mystery?”

Chenle snorted, rolling his eyes. “I swear, Haechan, she’s not imaginary. I might be dramatic, but even I wouldn’t go that far!”

Daeun let out a soft laugh and stepped forward, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “We were all looking forward to meeting her, you know. Poor girl—she doesn’t know what she’s in for if she’s dating you.”

Chenle shrugged, giving her a grin. “Well, you’ll meet her soon enough. Trust me, if she’d known you were all waiting at the door like this, she might’ve dragged herself over just to avoid becoming a ghost story.”

“Next time, Chenle,” Soyul added, giving him a quick, warm hug. “You’re bringing her, no excuses.”

Chenle raised his hands in surrender. “Deal, deal! I’ll bring her next time. Just don’t scare her off before I get the chance to introduce her, okay?”

Finally stepping aside from the crowd Mark took the bottle of whiskey, reading the label with an approving nod. “This, at least, is impressive. It’s like you read my mind.”

“Well, figured I’d make up for the lack of a plus-one,” Chenle said with a shrug, grinning as he accepted a glass from Yunhee. “Besides, you all don’t need my dating life as your only form of entertainment. I’m sure Haechan’s got plenty of wild stories to share tonight.”

The group laughed, and Haechan flashed a cocky grin. “I always bring the entertainment, Chenle. But I’ll give you a break—this time.”

Once the group had gathered back in the kitchen, Haechan leaning comfortably against the counter, Jaemin shot Chenle a curious look. “Alright, now that you’re here and Jiul’s off the hook for tonight, you’ve got to tell us a bit more about her.”

“Yeah,” Mark chimed in, raising an eyebrow with a half-smile. “You’ve been suspiciously quiet about this girl.”

Chenle leaned against the counter, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a sip of his drink. “Well, you all know how I like to keep things interesting. But let’s just say Jiul’s… different. She’s got this thing where she somehow manages to keep up with my jokes, even throw them back at me. That’s rare.”

Jaemin raised his glass, nodding. “Sounds like she’s got your number already.”

“Oh, trust me,” Chenle said with a chuckle. “She’s more than capable of keeping me on my toes. She’s a bit quiet at first, but once she opens up…” He paused, shaking his head with a smile. “Yeah, she’s something else.”

Mark leaned back, folding his arms. “Quiet, huh? Think she’ll be able to handle this crew?”

Chenle shrugged, his grin widening. “Guess we’ll have to find out. But if she can survive meeting all of you, I’ll take it as a good sign.”

Haechan snorted, looking amused. “Well, as long as she knows she’s dating the most mysterious guy in town.”

Chenle chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Alright, alright—keep the mystery jokes coming. But I’m serious, you’ll all meet her soon enough.”

Just then, Yunhee lifted her glass. “To Jiul’s speedy recovery. And to finally meeting the mystery woman next time!”

The group slowly moved toward the dining table, carrying their drinks and chatting animatedly. Haechan, true to form, was already throwing out playful remarks as he trailed behind Chinsun, who was straightening her hair after the rush to get there.

“Alright, everyone, let’s get this dinner started before Soyul’s cats call animal services on Jaemin for neglect” he teased, earning a laugh from Soyul and a glare from Jaemin.

Jaemin waved him off, grumbling under his breath. “They’re perfectly fine. And unlike you, Haechan, they actually like me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Haechan fired back with a smirk as he pulled out a chair for Chinsun, who patted his cheek as if rewarding a child for good behavior.

“Sit down and behave,” she said lightly, though her grin gave away her amusement.

Once everyone was seated, the conversation shifted to updates on their lives.

“How’s the clinic been, Chinsun?” Yunhee asked, passing the bread basket.

“Busy but good” Chinsun replied. “We’ve had a lot of emergency cases this week—mostly dogs who think eating socks is a fun challenge.”

“That’s because it is” Haechan quipped. “If I were a dog, I’d totally try it.”

Renjun shook his head with a laugh. “You’ve got the mindset for it, I’ll give you that.”

“What about you, Mark?” Jeno asked. “Still reshaping faces for a living?”

Mark chuckled. “Yeah, the clinic’s been crazy. But you’d be surprised how many people don’t realize they can’t heal overnight. I had a patient last week who wanted to run a marathon a day after rhinoplasty.”

“She didn’t!” Soyul gasped.

“Oh, she did” Mark said, nodding solemnly. “We had to convince her that, no, her nose would not stay on her face if she ran 42 kilometers.”

The group burst into laughter, and Daeun added, “I feel like your job is part surgery, part babysitting.”

Yunhee smiled knowingly. “It’s pretty similar to therapy sometimes, too. People want a quick fix without doing the real work.”

As the laughter ebbed, Renjun glanced at the clock on the wall. “By the way, is anyone planning to watch the eclipse tonight? It’s supposed to peak in an hour or so.”

Yunhee’s face lit up. “That’s the whole point of tonight’s dinner! Mark and I thought it’d be nice to make an event of it. Food, drinks, and a cosmic show.”

Jaemin raised a hand as if in mock protest. “Wait, I thought Chenle’s mystery girlfriend was the real purpose of tonight.”

The table broke into another round of laughter as Chenle groaned, sinking dramatically in his chair. “I’ll never live this down, will I?”

“Not a chance” Daeun replied with a grin.

Chinsun leaned forward, seizing the moment to ask “ So, Soyul, how are the cats doing? I saw your latest post, and they looked so adorable!” Chinsun asked with genuine excitement, clasping her hands together.

Soyul’s face lit up. “Oh, they’re doing amazing! Luna just learned how to open the treat drawer, so I’ve basically lost control of my kitchen. And Minho—well, he’s still his lazy self, lounging around like he’s royalty.”

Jaemin groaned, leaning back in his chair. “I swear, those two get more attention than I do.”

“You’re not wrong” Soyul teased, her grin widening. “But can you blame me? They’re perfect.”

“Perfectly spoiled” Jaemin muttered, though his soft smile betrayed his playful jealousy.

“They’re basically your children” Chinsun said, leaning forward eagerly. “It’s like having babies, isn’t it? You feed them, you worry about them, and they even wake you up in the middle of the night!”

Soyul nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! They’re like little furry toddlers.”

Yunhee chimed in, her tone reflective. “Animals really are like kids. They depend on you completely, and you get so attached. Sometimes I think having a pet is good practice for when you’re ready for the real thing.”

This comment shifted the energy at the table. A pause hung in the air before Haechan, never one to let things get too serious, leaned forward with a smirk. “Speaking of kids—how many of you are planning on having them?”

Jaemin and Jeno exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible glance before Jaemin replied, “Not us. At least, not anytime soon.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “Yeah, same here. We’re just… not really into the idea right now.”

Daeun looked at Jeno, her brows furrowing slightly. “I didn’t know you felt that way. We’ve never really talked about it.”

Soyul glanced at Jaemin, her lips pressing into a line. “Yeah… same here.”

Sensing the tension creeping in, Mark cleared his throat. “I’ve always wanted kids. It’s just a matter of timing, I guess.”

“Same” Haechan said with a grin, reaching over to take Chinsun’s hand. “And, for the record, I think Chinsun would look absolutely stunning with a little baby bump. I mean, imagine—she’d be the cutest mom ever.”

Chinsun’s cheeks flushed as she swatted him lightly. “Haechan! Don’t start embarrassing me.”

“I’m just speaking the truth” Haechan said, leaning back smugly. “You’d glow, babe. Like, literally.”

The group laughed, the tension easing as the conversation drifted back into lighter territory.

“You’d glow because you’d be sweating from how much work it is,” Chenle quipped, leaning back with a smug grin. “Honestly, I don’t get the whole ‘having kids’ thing. Everyone acts like it’s the ultimate goal, but let’s be real—it’s not like having a child completes your life or anything.”

His comment drew a mix of reactions. Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, while Yunhee’s eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. Soyul and Daeun exchanged surprised glances, and Mark simply sipped his wine, waiting to see where the conversation would go.

It was Renjun who spoke first, his voice calm but firm. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? Just because it’s not something you want doesn’t mean it’s not meaningful for other people.”

Chenle shrugged. “I’m not saying people shouldn’t have kids. I’m just saying the idea that you need them to live a fulfilling life is outdated. Look at me—I’m perfectly happy without any of that responsibility weighing me down.”

Renjun leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “But don’t you think there’s value in building something that lasts? Kids aren’t just about fulfilling some societal expectation—they’re about connection, legacy, and love.”

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Legacy? Love? I don’t need a tiny version of me running around to prove I can leave a mark on the world.”

“Maybe,” Renjun countered, his tone softening slightly, “but having a child isn’t just about leaving a mark. It’s about giving a piece of yourself to someone else and watching them grow into their own person. It’s about creating a bond that’s unlike anything else.”

Chinsun nodded in agreement, her expression warm as she looked at Renjun. “That’s a beautiful way to put it. I’ve always thought that raising a child could be one of the most rewarding things you can do.”

“Exactly,” Renjun said, his gaze still on Chenle. “It’s not for everyone, sure. But it’s not just about completing your life—it’s about enriching theirs, too.”

Chenle rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. “Alright, alright, Mr. Philosopher. You’ve made your point. But I’m sticking to my no-kid policy, thanks.”

“Wow” Yunhee said, glancing at Chenle with mock disapproval. “Remind me not to leave you alone with my hypothetical children.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to” Chenle said with a grin.

The laughter around the table eventually simmered as the conversation drifted into quieter territory. It was Renjun who broke the lull with a sigh. “Did anyone hear about Jaehyun? Poor guy’s been through it lately.”

Mark glanced up from his drink, frowning. “Yeah, I did. He found out his girlfriend was cheating, right?”

“Found out by accident, too” Renjun added. “Apparently, he glanced at her phone while she was showing him something, and bam—texts from another guy. Can you imagine?”

“Honestly, that’s the worst,” Daeun said, shaking her head. “Not just the cheating but finding out like that. It must’ve been a punch to the gut.”

Chenle leaned back with a sympathetic smirk. “It’s like phones have become the black box of our lives. They hold all the secrets, good and bad.”

Mark nodded thoughtfully, swirling his wine glass. “It’s true, though. Our phones probably know more about us than the people closest to us. Messages, emails, photos, bank details… even things we don’t consciously remember. It’s like a digital diary we forget to lock.”

“Or a digital Pandora’s box” Jaemin said, earning murmurs of agreement around the table.

Yunhee, who had been listening intently, suddenly leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You know… this reminds me of something I saw in a movie recently. What if we played a game?”

The table perked up at the word game.

“What kind of game?” Haechan asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Yunhee grinned. “Everyone puts their phones on the table for the entire night. Any texts, calls, or notifications that come in—we share them with the group. We read the messages aloud, listen to the calls on speaker, everything. Total transparency.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the idea hanging in the air like an unspoken dare.

“That sounds…” Jeno began, his brow furrowing. “… invasive.”

“And unnecessary” Mark added quickly, his discomfort evident.

Haechan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, I’m not sure I’m on board with that. It’s not that I have anything to hide, but…”

“But what?” Chinsun cut in, her tone teasing as she raised an eyebrow. “Afraid we’ll find out about your secret second family or something?”

Haechan pointed a finger at her, feigning offense. “Don’t start, babe. My life’s an open book. It’s just—do we really need to dig into each other’s phones to have a good time?”

“I agree” Jeno said, leaning back in his chair. “Privacy is important. It’s not about having secrets—it’s about boundaries.”

Jaemin, however, couldn’t resist poking fun at his friend. “Sounds like you’ve got something to hide, Jeno. What’s in there? A secret Candy Crush addiction?”

Jeno shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “Don’t start, Jaemin. Unlike you, I don’t feel the need to broadcast my entire life to everyone.”

The tension between them sparked briefly before Renjun jumped in with a soothing tone. “Come on, it’s just a game. It doesn’t have to mean anything. If we’re all good friends, what’s there to worry about? It’s not like anyone here is hiding anything serious… right?”

Renjun’s words hung in the air, and one by one, the group exchanged hesitant glances.

“Fine” Mark sighed, clearly resigned. “If everyone’s doing it, I’ll do it too.”

Haechan groaned dramatically. “This is peer pressure. I hope you all know that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes” Chinsun said with a grin, sliding her phone onto the table.

Jeno hesitated, his lips pressed into a thin line, but Daeun nudged him playfully. “Come on, Jeno. Live a little.”

With a resigned huff, Jeno placed his phone down next to Chinsun’s, muttering something under his breath about regretting this later.

Finally, one by one, everyone added their phones to the pile in the center of the table.

“There” Yunhee said with a satisfied smile. “Now we’re all on equal footing. Let’s see who’s brave enough to go first when something comes in.”

Before anyone could respond, Soyul glanced toward the window, her eyes widening. “Hey! The eclipse is starting!”

The group immediately stood, wine glasses in hand, and moved to the balcony to watch the celestial event unfold.

The moon hung low in the sky, its bright silver glow slowly dimming as the Earth’s shadow crept across its surface. The conversation quieted as they all gazed upward, the air filled with a rare sense of awe and tranquility.

“Is it just me, or does everything feel… surreal right now?” Daeun murmured, leaning against Jeno.

“It’s not just you,” Jaemin replied, his voice softer than usual.

As the shadow consumed more of the moon, Haechan broke the silence with a playful nudge at Chenle. “So, Chenle, is this where your mystery girlfriend was supposed to make a grand entrance? Under the moonlight?”

Chenle rolled his eyes, but his smirk betrayed his amusement. “Very funny. I think I’ll enjoy the moon more without any distractions, thanks.”

Mark chuckled. “Let’s just hope this night doesn’t turn into an eclipse of our friendships once the phones start buzzing.”

The group laughed lightly, the tension from earlier melting into the cool night air.

The group slowly made their way back to the dining room, the warm light inside contrasting with the cool, dark night outside. They settled into their seats once again, still buzzing from the beauty of the eclipse. Glasses were refilled, and the conversation naturally shifted to lighter, nostalgic topics as they relaxed into the evening.

“You know,” Haechan began, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin, “we’ve all grown up so much, but let’s not forget—I used to be the king of our little circle back in the day.”

“Oh, here we go” Mark muttered, rolling his eyes with a smile.

“No, no, let him cook.” Jaemin said, laughing as he folded his arms. “I wanna hear this version of history.”

“I was the guy” Haechan continued dramatically, ignoring the interruptions. “The life of every party. The charmer. The—”

“The biggest headache” Mark interjected with a snort.

“That, too.” Renjun chimed in, grinning. “Remember how many times we had to cover for you when you’d ghost some poor girl at a party?”

Haechan feigned offense, placing a hand on his chest. “Excuse me, ghosting is such a strong word. I simply… diversified my options.”

“Diversified?” Chinsun repeated with a raised eyebrow. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.”

“‘Stuck’ is the wrong word” Haechan said smoothly, slipping his arm around her. “I’d say I retired from the game because I found my MVP.”

The table groaned collectively at his cheesy line, but Chinsun blushed nonetheless.

“You weren’t the only one with ‘game,’ though” Renjun said, turning to Jaemin. “Mr. Cool over here wasn’t too bad himself.”

Jaemin smirked, shrugging casually. “What can I say? Some of us don’t need to try too hard.”

“Please” Jeno scoffed, shaking his head. “The only reason you didn’t need to try too hard was because I was always stuck as your wingman. And let me tell you, your success came at my expense more times than I can count.”

Jaemin laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, that’s fair. But hey, it all worked out, right? We ended up with the two best friends. Perfect symmetry.”

Soyul and Daeun exchanged a knowing glance, their eyebrows raised. “And you two don’t find that a little suspicious?” Soyul teased.

“Not at all” Jaemin said confidently, draping an arm around Soyul’s chair. “It’s destiny. A natural alignment of the stars.”

“You mean of the drinks” Daeun joked, nudging Jeno playfully. “I’m pretty sure destiny was just a lot of late-night outings and bad pick-up lines.”

“You wound me” Jeno said, placing a hand over his heart in mock pain.

“And then there’s Mark and Renjun” Haechan said, pointing his fork at them with a mischievous grin. “Our very own nerd squad.”

“Hey!” Mark and Renjun protested in unison, drawing laughter from everyone else.

“It’s true” Haechan insisted, leaning forward. “These two were impossible to drag out. Mark was always studying or working on some project, and Renjun was, what, painting or reading about obscure history?”

“Excuse me” Renjun said with mock indignation, “I had a social life.”

“Sure” Haechan teased, “as long as it involved trivia nights or art galleries.”

Mark laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, fine, we weren’t exactly the party animals of the group. But we had our moments.”

“‘Moments,’” Haechan echoed, grinning. “Like when I had to physically drag you to that one party because you refused to leave your textbook?”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Mark protested. “It was finals week, and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“That’s because Yunhee begged me to bring you out” Haechan said, smirking. “She had the biggest crush on you.”

Yunhee blushed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Did you have to tell everyone that?”

“Come on, it’s cute!” Haechan said, laughing.

“It was also embarrassing,” Yunhee admitted, shaking her head. “I was into this guy who barely noticed me unless we were talking about something academic. And when he did come to parties, he just stood in the corner with a drink, looking like he wanted to go home.”

Mark chuckled sheepishly. “I wasn’t exactly the most social person back then.”

“You weren’t social at all,” Yunhee teased. “But I guess it worked out in the end.”

“Meanwhile,” Chenle cut in, grinning, “I was the reason we even had parties to talk about. Admit it—my house was the spot.”

“Oh, absolutely” Jaemin said. “Your parties were legendary.”

“Legendary is putting it lightly” Renjun added. “Remember that Halloween party where someone brought a fog machine and accidentally set off the fire alarm?”

Chenle laughed, his eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, and we all had to evacuate in full costumes. I’ll never forget Haechan running outside in his inflatable dinosaur suit.”

“It was the look of the night.” Haechan said proudly.

The girls listened intently as the guys reminisced, chiming in occasionally with laughter or disbelief.

“And the Christmas party where Mark fell asleep on the couch because he had too much of Chenle’s grandpa gin?” Jaemin added.

“Classic” Haechan said, shaking his head.

“I was tired” Mark defended, though his grin gave him away.

The stories flowed easily, filling the room with warmth and nostalgia as they recounted their wild, carefree days. Each memory was met with laughter, teasing, and the occasional exaggerated retelling, the bonds between them growing all the more evident with every shared anecdote.

As the laughter from their previous conversation subsided, a distinct ping rang out in the room, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Who’s the lucky first?” Haechan asked, grinning mischievously as he leaned forward.

Renjun, sitting at the far end of the table, pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. His expression didn’t change much, but the way he hesitated to speak piqued everyone’s curiosity.

“Well?” Yunhee prompted, her eyes narrowing playfully. “What is it? Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“It’s nothing” Renjun said, placing his phone face down on the table.

“Oh no, you don’t get to say ‘nothing,’” Haechan teased, reaching across the table as though to snatch the phone. Renjun was faster, pulling it away with a smirk.

“It’s not even interesting” Renjun assured them. “Just some random promotion for the bar under my apartment.”

The table erupted into groans and laughter, with Haechan being the loudest. “A bar promotion? That’s the first notification of the night? Renjun, man, you’re supposed to give us something juicy!”

“What do you want me to do?!” Renjun said, feigning indignation. “It’s not like I control who texts me. And besides, maybe this is a sign I need to go out more.”

“Or,” Haechan said, leaning back with a grin, “it’s a sign that the highlight of your social life is your landlord’s weekly happy hour.”

Renjun threw a balled-up napkin at him, which Haechan caught midair. “Better a bar promotion than whatever spam texts you’re probably getting” Renjun retorted.

“Touché” Haechan admitted, laughing.

The conversation resumed, glasses were raised, and a few jokes flew across the table. Just as things began to settle, though, a chorus of pings echoed through the room, drawing everyone’s attention again.

This time, it wasn’t just one phone.

Mark, Jeno, Chenle, Renjun and Haechan all glanced down at their screens at the same time.

“Okay, what the hell?” Jaemin asked, his tone half-joking but tinged with genuine confusion. “Is there some group chat I’m not part of?”

“No” Mark said quickly, his brow furrowing as he read his message. “It’s just a basketball thing.”

“Yeah” Jeno added, glancing at Jaemin with a sheepish smile. “Johnny’s organizing a game next weekend.”

“Basketball?” Jaemin repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Why didn’t I get this message?”

The other guys exchanged quick, awkward looks. “It’s not a big deal” Chenle said, shrugging. “Maybe Johnny forgot to add you?”

“Forgot?” Jaemin said, his eyebrows shooting up. “I mean, I get it—I’m not the greatest player. But even Renjun was invited! And he doesn’t even play!”

Renjun, who had been quietly sipping his drink, nearly choked. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like” Jaemin shot back, his arms crossed. “You’ve never even held a basketball, and somehow, you get an invite over me?”

“Okay, first of all” Renjun said, setting his glass down, “you don’t have to attack me just because Johnny doesn’t think you can dunk.”

The table broke into laughter, though Jaemin didn’t look entirely amused.

“Come on, Jaem” Haechan said, clapping his hands. “It’s not personal. Maybe Johnny just assumed you’d be busy or something.”

“Yeah” Mark added, though his voice lacked conviction. “It’s probably just an oversight.”

“An oversight” Jaemin repeated flatly, leaning back in his chair. “Right.”

Sensing the tension, Soyul reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Jaemin. You don’t even like playing basketball that much.”

“That’s not the point” Jaemin muttered, moving away from her touch.

Daeun nodded in agreement, her voice soothing. “Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. Why don’t you talk to Johnny about it? I’m sure he didn’t mean to exclude you.”

Jaemin exhaled sharply but nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

Jeno, who had been unusually quiet, cleared his throat. “Hey, Jaem. Shall we go get that my bottle of wine?”

Jaemin glanced at him, confused about the timing, then shrugged. “Sure.”

The two of them got up and moved to the kitchen, leaving the others to continue chatting.

Jeno hesitated before speaking, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, about the basketball thing… it wasn’t really my call. Johnny’s the one who made the list.”

“Johnny,” Jaemin repeated, his tone skeptical.

“Yeah” Jeno said quickly. “I swear, I didn’t even know he was putting it together until I got the text. If I’d known, I would’ve made sure you were invited.”

Jaemin stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal, I guess. It’s just—”

“You feel left out” Jeno finished for him, his voice soft.

Jaemin nodded, his posture relaxing slightly. “Yeah. I mean, we’re supposed to be friends, right?”

“Of course we are.” Jeno said firmly. “And I’ll talk to Johnny about it, okay? You should’ve been on that list, no question.”

Jaemin looked at him for a moment longer, then smiled. “Thanks, man, you know me better than anyone.”

“Of course.” Jeno said, clapping him on the shoulder.

The two of them returned to the table, the tension already resolved. As they sat down, Chenle was in the middle of recounting one of his party stories, the laughter and energy of the group pulling them back into the warmth of the evening.

The conversation inside the house had mellowed into a cozy rhythm, everyone sharing their thoughts on recent movies and books.

“Did anyone see that new space thriller? The one with the impossible black hole scene?” Renjun asked, setting his glass down.

“Yeah, and it was painfully unrealistic,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “They really expect us to believe the ship survived that?”

“It’s science fiction” Soyul chimed in. “You’re supposed to suspend disbelief. Besides, the emotional storyline carried it.”

“Emotional?” Haechan leaned back in his chair. “You’re telling me crying in zero gravity makes up for ignoring basic physics?”

“Only you would care about physics in a movie” Daeun teased.

“Fine, maybe it’s not for me” Haechan replied with mock offense. He finished his drink and stood up with a stretch. “On that note, I’m calling a cigarette break. Chenle?”

“Yeah, why not” Chenle said, getting up as well.

The two exited to the balcony, Haechan sliding the glass door shut behind them. The cold air hit them immediately, but Haechan seemed unbothered as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. After taking a long drag, he passed the lighter to Chenle, who mirrored his actions.

For a moment, they stood in silence, looking out at the city lights.

Chenle broke the quiet. “Alright, you’re acting weird. What’s up?”

Haechan hesitated, flicking ash off the edge of the balcony. “I need a favor” he finally said.

Chenle turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “From me? That’s rare. What kind of favor?”

Haechan glanced at the door to ensure no one was listening. “I need to switch phones with you. Just for a little while.”

Chenle blinked, taken aback. “What? Why?”

“Because” Haechan said, lowering his voice further, “someone’s going to send me a picture in about half an hour, and… let’s just say it’s better if Chinsun doesn’t see it.”

Chenle stared at him, cigarette paused mid-air. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” Haechan replied, taking another drag.

Chenle leaned against the railing, his expression growing more incredulous by the second. “What kind of picture are we talking about here?”

“You know.” Haechan said, his tone evasive.

Chenle gave him a flat look. “Haechan. What kind of picture?”

“A… personal one,” Haechan muttered, his gaze fixed on the glowing tip of his cigarette.

Chenle groaned, rubbing his temple. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re risking everything with that girl over nudes?”

“Shhh!” Haechan hissed, waving his hands in panic. “Keep your voice down!”

Chenle sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke. “Unbelievable. Who is she?”

Haechan hesitated again, shifting uncomfortably.

“Don’t tell me…” Chenle said, his tone sharpening as realization dawned. “It’s Mark’s sister, isn’t it?”

Haechan didn’t respond immediately, but the small, mischievous grin that crept onto his face was answer enough.

Chenle groaned louder this time, throwing his hands up. “You’re out of your mind! If Mark finds out, you’re dead.”

“He’s not going to find out” Haechan said confidently. “We’re discreet. Besides, she’s the one sending the picture, not me.”

“Wow, what a great excuse,” Chenle said sarcastically. “Do you even hear yourself? This is a terrible idea.”

“Look” Haechan said, leaning closer, “She’s always had a little thing for me, you know that.”

“That doesn’t mean you should encourage it!” Chenle scolded. “Mark is one of your best friends. How do you think he’d feel about you messing with his sister?”

“I’m not messing with her” Haechan argued.

Chenle stared at him, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Please, Chenle.” Haechan said, his tone shifting to one of genuine desperation. “I’m begging you. Just this once. It’s harmless, I swear.”

Chenle hesitated, clearly torn. He took one last drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the ashtray. “This is such a bad idea, I’m telling you” he said finally. “But fine. I’ll help you. Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t” Haechan said, relief washing over him. “Thank you, man. I owe you.”

Chenle rolled his eyes as he turned to slide the door open. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember, when this blows up in your face, I told you so.”

As Chenle stepped back inside, leaving the door ajar, Haechan stayed behind, staring out at the city with a mix of relief and unease. He took one last puff of his cigarette before letting it die, his thoughts racing as he trued to convince himself that everything would work out.

The air inside had warmed considerably, filled with the clinking of glasses, faint laughter, and the soft hum of conversation. Most of the group had gravitated toward the kitchen, where Mark and Yunhee busily orchestrated the next course. Renjun and Chinsun, however, remained in the living room, seated comfortably on their seats, engaged in a quiet conversation.

“You’ve always been good with people,” Chinsun said with a warm smile, her gaze steady on Renjun. “It’s no wonder the kids in your music workshops like you so much.”

Renjun rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I think it’s less about me and more about music. Kids just need a way to express themselves, you know?”

Chinsun leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. “It’s still a talent, though. Not everyone has that ability to connect.”

Just then, the balcony door slid open, and Haechan stepped back inside, brushing the cold air off his sleeves. He immediately caught sight of the scene and quirked an eyebrow.

“Wow, you two look cozy” Haechan said, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the doorway. “Should I be worried?”

Chinsun didn’t even flinch, rolling her eyes as she turned toward him. “Shut up, Haechan” she said, a hint of exasperation in her tone.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he replied with an exaggerated shrug, though his eyes lingered a little longer on Renjun before he finally walked past them into the kitchen.

And before this, without being noticed (or so he thought) he successfully switched phones with Chenle.

Daeun and Soyul stood near the counter, half-hidden behind a column, their glasses in hand. From their vantage point, they had a clear view of Haechan’s expression as he glanced over at Chinsun and Renjun.

“Did you see that?” Daeun whispered, tilting her head toward the living room.

Soyul smirked, her lips barely moving. “He’s so jealous, it’s almost funny.”

Daeun narrowed her eyes slightly. “Do you think Chinsun has a thing for Renjun?”

Soyul shook her head after a moment’s thought. “No way. She’s just naturally warm with everyone. And let’s be honest—Renjun is so clueless about stuff like that.”

Daeun chuckled. “True. And Haechan’s possessiveness is basically part of his personality. Still, it’s kind of cute, jealousy looks good on him”

Their quiet observations were interrupted as the others began filtering back into the kitchen. Plates and trays were passed around, Mark working diligently to ensure everything was perfect for the meal. The room buzzed with chatter about favorite dishes, the best way to cook steak, and Mark’s secret marinade recipe.

Once everyone returned to the dining table, the conversation shifted to lighter topics.

Mark, ever the gracious host, served up plates of food while Yunhee teased him about his near-obsessive attention to detail.

“So, Mark,” Jaemin said, leaning back in his chair. “You really could’ve been a chef. Why didn’t you go for it?”

Mark shrugged modestly. “Cooking’s a hobby. Turning it into a career might’ve taken the fun out of it.”

Yunhee rolled her eyes playfully. “Please, he says that, but he’d probably be a world-famous chef by now if he tried.”

Renjun chimed in, “Honestly, Mark, you should start a cooking blog or something. Share your recipes with the world.”

“Then we’d lose the exclusivity,” Soyul interjected with a grin. “I don’t want everyone knowing Mark’s secrets.”

The group laughed, the energy light and playful—until a phone buzzed loudly on the table, drawing everyone’s attention.

The phone’s screen lit up, displaying the name Monique.

All eyes turned to Chenle, whose “phone” sat innocently on the table.

Chenle stiffened immediately, his hand darting out to grab the phone. “Nothing to see here” he said quickly, trying to play it off.

But Yunhee was faster. “Wait a second” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Monique? Isn’t that Mark’s sister?”

A collective gasp rippled through the table. Haechan froze, his face carefully blank as he avoided looking directly at anyone.

Chenle glanced briefly at Haechan, his expression screaming help me, but Haechan offered no assistance. With a deep breath, Chenle forced a sheepish grin. “Yeah, um… we’ve been reconnecting lately.”

“Reconnecting?” Mark repeated, his voice low and skeptical. His fork paused mid-air, his knuckles tightening slightly.

Jaemin leaned forward, grinning like a kid about to witness chaos. “Open the message, Chenle. Let’s see what she sent.”

“Jaemin!” Daeun scolded, though her curiosity was just as evident in her eyes.

Chenle hesitated, clearly torn. But under the weight of everyone’s stares, he reluctantly unlocked the phone and opened the message. His face went beet red as he saw the photo: a sultry, carefully posed picture of Mark’s sister.

“Whoa” he breathed, his eyes wide with shock.

Immediately, Jaemin and Renjun crowded around to see, while Soyul and Daeun leaned over curiously. Yunhee covered her mouth, stifling a gasp.

“Chenle.” Mark snapped, his tone sharp. “How long has this been going on?”

“Just… a few months” Chenle said weakly, shrinking under Mark’s glare.

“And how long were you planning on keeping this from me?” Mark demanded, his voice rising.

Before Chenle could answer, Daeun interjected, “What about Jiul? Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

Chenle opened his mouth, floundering for an answer, when Haechan finally spoke up.

“Look, the guy finally has some game” Haechan said, his tone breezy as he leaned back in his chair. “Can we give him a little credit?”

The comment earned a mixture of gasps and laughter, though Mark’s expression remained stormy. Yunhee, however, was quick to step in.

“Mark, relax” she said firmly. “Your sister’s an adult. Let her live her life.”

Mark muttered something under his breath, but he reluctantly leaned back in his chair, though his jaw remained tight.

Chenle, meanwhile, shot a glare at Haechan, who merely smirked back at him, clearly unbothered by the chaos he’d created.

Moments later Chinsun glanced at his watch, his expression shifting to one of excitement. “Hey, it’s time! The full eclipse should be happening right now.”

Everyone murmured in agreement, standing up from their chairs and moving toward the balcony once more. The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the moon now completely cloaked in shadow, casting an eerie, beautiful darkness across the sky.

Mark leaned against the railing, gazing up at the celestial phenomenon. “It’s incredible,” he said, his voice quiet but reflective. “The moon’s always there, but we only ever see one side of it. This is one of those rare times the shadow makes it feel… complete.”

Renjun nodded, equally captivated by the view. “It’s like the earth is revealing its own truth. The light we always chase is just an illusion. It’s the shadows that really show us who we are.”

“Leave it to you two philosophers to turn a pretty moon into an existential crisis” Jaemin joked, breaking the momentary silence.

The group chuckled, and Chinsun, inspired by the occasion, clapped her hands together. “This is too good to miss! Let’s take a photo.”

Everyone gathered around her, smiling and adjusting their positions. “Chenle, here” she said, handing him her phone. “You’ve got long arms—take the picture.”

Chenle took the phone with a grin. “Alright, everyone squeeze in. Ready? One, two—”

A sudden notification interrupted him, a message popping up at the top of the screen:

Sunghoon: Hi.

The screen glowed with the name, drawing a moment of awkward silence as everyone caught sight of it.

“Who’s Sunghoon?” Chenle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, who’s that?” Daeun chimed in, her curiosity piqued.

Haechan, standing just behind Chinsun, stiffened immediately. His voice turned sharp as he asked“What the fuck does he want now?”

Chinsun waved it off, her tone casual but her expression betraying her discomfort. “No one important. Let’s just take the picture.”

Chenle glanced at her skeptically but lifted the phone again. “Alright, where were we? One, two—”

Another message popped up.

Sunghoon: I need you.

The group fell silent again, the tension palpable. Haechan didn’t hesitate this time. He stepped forward, snatching the phone from Chenle’s hand.

“Why the fuck is he texting you this shit?” Haechan’s voice was low but seething, his jaw tight as he looked directly at Chinsun.

Chinsun took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice calm. “He’s been texting me for two weeks now, but I haven’t responded to him at all. You know how much my last relationship broke me. How could you even think I’d entertain this?”

Haechan’s glare didn’t waver. “Oh, please. We all know Sunghoon thinks he’s some kind of hotshot. Does he still have that stupid haircut that you liked so much?”

“Haechan” she snapped, her patience wearing thin. “That’s not the point.”

The group began to shuffle uncomfortably as the argument escalated.

“If you don’t believe me” Chinsun said, her voice firm now, “then call him. Ask him yourself.”

“I don’t need to hear you two flirting” Haechan spat, his tone laced with venom. “Thank you very much.”

The insult stung, and Chinsun’s expression hardened as she yanked her phone back from his grip. Haechan turned away abruptly, grabbing another glass of wine from the table and downing half of it in one go.

Chenle, hesitant but concerned, stepped in. “Maybe you should hear her out first, man—”

“Shut up, Chenle.” Haechan snapped, his words cutting.

Mark, now visibly annoyed, intervened. He reached over and took the wine glass from Haechan’s hand. “That’s enough” he said firmly.

The girls, gathering around Chinsun, encouraged her. “Just call him” Yunhee said softly. “Set things straight. It’ll help.”

Chinsun hesitated but eventually nodded. She dialed the number, her fingers trembling slightly. The phone rang a few times before the call connected.

“Finally, Sunny” Sunghoon’s voice, smooth but laced with smugness. “You decided to call me back. What’s the matter? Does your boyfriend not satisfy you anymore?”

Haechan’s grip on the edge of the table tightened, his knuckles white as he held himself back from exploding.

Chinsun, kept her voice steady. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Sunghoon. Stop contacting me. I’m happy with Haechan.”

A low chuckle echoed through the phone. “He’ll never be me” Sunghoon said arrogantly.

That was the breaking point.

Haechan took the phone from Chinsun’s hand and brought it to his ear. “Thank God” he said coldly, his voice dripping with disdain. “Because I’m so much better, you pathetic fuckass.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hung up and tossed the phone onto the table, the conversation firmly ended.

He didn’t say another word, instead walking back to his seat at the dining table and sinking into his chair. The others exchanged uneasy glances before slowly following him back inside, one by one.

The air in the room was thick with tension after the heated exchange between Haechan and Chinsun. Everyone tried to move on, lightening the atmosphere by reminiscing about past vacations.

“Summer vacations are the best” Jaemin said, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Nothing beats long days at the beach and bonfire nights.”

“Sure, if you like sand everywhere” Yunhee teased. “Winter vacations have charm. Cozy cabins, hot chocolate, and snow-covered landscapes—it’s magical.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, until you’re stuck shoveling snow off the driveway.”

Renjun chuckled. “Both have their perks. I think it depends on where you go. Remember that summer trip we took to Jeju? The hikes, the ocean view—it was perfect.”

“Except for the sunburns” Daeun added with a laugh. “I was peeling for weeks!”

Soyul chimed in “Winter vacations are underrated, though. Remember that ski trip last year? The slopes were amazing, and the hot springs afterward—unforgettable.”

Haechan, still visibly tense, tried to force a laugh. “I’d take summer any day. Winter’s just… depressing. Too much darkness, not enough fun.”

The conversation was beginning to lift the group’s spirits when an unfamiliar chime interrupted them. A strange notification sound echoed through the room, causing everyone to pause.

“Whose phone is that?” Haechan asked, glancing around.

Chenle, sighed trying to stay composed “It’s yours.”

Haechan frowned but nodded slowly. “Right. So… what’s the message?”

As he read the message he looked confused.

Chinsun peaked behind him “Who’s Jisung? And why’s he asking you how are you feeling?”

The table fell silent.

“What the hell?” Jaemin blurted out, leaning forward. “Who’s Jisung?”

Haechan looked at them, trying to think at some excuses. “He’s a new guys who works with me..you know he got a little crush on me and won’t leave me alone” he said, laughing a little.

“Well then” Chenle starts “why don’t you give him an answer?”

Haechan looked back at his friend, gulping. “Right…” He said as he started typing

“I said ‘I’m okay, I’m at a friend house.” Haechan said, nervously putting the phone down.

Another message light up the screen.

Jisung: What? You said you had fever! That’s the whole reason why we didn’t meet tonight. You promised me…

As everyone listen to the message, their faces light up with confusion, looking at the boy.

“What’s going on?” Daeun asked, her voice filled with confusion.

Chinsun’s face was frozen in shock as she whispered, “Haechan…? What did you have to do with this Jisung?”

Haechan let out a strained laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “Are you guys seriously thinking—what? That I’d be into… guys? Baby, come on” he said, looking directly at Chinsun. “Look at me. How could I ever like boys?”

Renjun, sitting across the table, folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. His voice was calm but pointed. “What’s wrong with liking boys, Haechan?”

The question hung in the air like a loaded weapon.

Haechan’s eyes flicked to Renjun, then back to Chinsun. “Nothing, obviously! But it’s just… not me.”

Renjun’s gaze sharpened, the calm in his tone replaced by something more cutting. “Oh, really?”

Haechan’s voice dropped, pleading. “Renjun, please—”

Renjun leaned forward, cutting him off. “No, please. Go on. This is hilarious, hearing you talk all this shit.”

The rest of the group looked on in confusion, their gazes darting between the two.

“What are you saying, Jun?” Daeun asked hesitantly, her tone laced with concern.

Renjun ignored her, keeping his focus on Haechan. “What? Did you forget about that summer? Oh, wait, maybe you forgot about the whole year too. Yeah, that happens as you get older, doesn’t it?”

The weight of Renjun’s words hit the table like a bomb.

Chinsun’s eyes welled up, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Is this true?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Haechan’s face was pale, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if to steady himself. “It’s not what you think” he started, his voice cracking.

“Then what is it?” Jaemin pressed, his tone confused but firm.

Soyul glanced between Haechan and Renjun. “Wait… are you saying you two…?”

“No!” Haechan exclaimed, his voice too loud, too defensive. “It wasn’t like that! It was just—”

“Just what?” Renjun interrupted coldly. “A phase? A mistake? Poor this Jisung guy, he doesn’t know what he got himself up to”

Chenle shifted uncomfortably. “Guys, maybe this isn’t the time—”

“Shut up, Chenle!” Haechan snapped, then immediately winced, realizing how out of control he sounded.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife when the phone rang, breaking the moment.

Chenle’s phone -now Haechan’s- lights up again for an incoming call.

The name “Jisung” flashed across the screen.

Chenle’s breath hitched. “Don’t answer that” he said quickly, his voice strained.

But it was too late. Renjun, stealing the phone, had already pressed the green button.

Jisung’s voice came through the speaker, sharp and accusatory. “Why did you lie about being sick? We were supposed to meet tonight, and now I find out you’re out with your friends?”

The room went silent.

Haechan, panic flashing across his face, stammered. “I… I don’t even know what you’re talking about… Jisung?”

Jisung scoffed, his tone cutting. “Really? Because I’ve got your location on 360. It’s over, you asshole.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving everyone stunned.

Chinsun’s tears flowed freely now, her hands trembling as she covered her face. The silence was deafening until Haechan finally spoke.

“Guys c’mon..You all know me…I would never do this. I’m not into… boys. It’s not true. None of it is true!”

Renjun let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really?”

Haechan looked at him, pleading. “Renjun, please—”

“No” Renjun said, standing up, his voice steady but full of disappointment. “I’m done listening to this. It’s so funny hearing you deny everything, though. Keep going—it’s entertaining.”

“Renjun, stop” Soyul whispered, her voice soft but firm.

“What am I stopping?” Renjun snapped, glaring at Haechan. “Reminding him of the truth? Maybe he needs it. Or maybe he’s too scared to admit it.”

Haechan sank back into his chair, his face pale and his shoulders slumped. Chinsun stared at him, her tear-filled eyes full of betrayal and heartbreak.

No one spoke.

The room was silent, thick with tension, after Renjun’s cutting remarks. Haechan was frozen, struggling to form a coherent response, his hands gripping the edge of the table like a lifeline. Yunhee, however, decided it was time to step in.

“Okay, enough” she said, her voice sharp, rising over the tension. “Renjun, you don’t have to do this. He’s already overwhelmed, and you’re just—”

Renjun cut her off with a cold laugh, looking her straight in the eye. “Oh, don’t even start, Yunhee. You want to defend him now? I have every right to get angry since how he left me for you?”

The room collectively sucked in a breath.

“What?” Jeno blurted out, his voice laced with disbelief. “Oh god, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Mark turned slowly to Yunhee, his face a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What is he saying?”

Yunhee looked as though she had been caught in headlights. Her mouth opened, then closed, as her hands fidgeted nervously on her lap.

Haechan sighed deeply, throwing his head back as if resigning himself.

“Yeah, Mark” Renjun said, his voice heavy. “Where do you think she got those new earrings?”

His voice was dripping with venom as he gestured toward Yunhee. “They were mine, by the way. Before Haechan decided he was fully straight overnight and that fucking his best friend’s girlfriend was better.”

All eyes turned to Yunhee, who instinctively touched her earrings, her face pale.

Soyul, her voice trembling with shock, muttered, “Oh my god, are you serious? This is insane.”

Mark stared at Yunhee, then at Haechan, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to process the betrayal. “Yunhee…” he began, his voice quiet but full of hurt.

Yunhee’s voice cracked as she tried to explain. “Mark, I—It’s not what you think—”

Chinsun, who had been silently crying, let out a bitter laugh. She stood up abruptly, wiping her tears with shaky hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me” she said, her voice breaking but laced with nervous laughter. “This is crazy. And you—” she pointed at Haechan, her laugh turning into a scoff. “You even had the boldness to accuse me of cheating? While you’re sitting here with a whole whore army?”

Yunhee bristled, standing up to face her. “I’m sorry, who are you calling a whore?”

“Oh, you heard me” Chinsun snapped, her hands on her hips.

“Excuse me, I was here first.” Yunhee shot back, her voice dripping with venom.

Renjun leaned back in his chair, watching the chaos unfold with a sardonic grin. “If we’re playing that game, technically, I was first in line.”

Both women froze, turning their angry glares on him.

Mark, meanwhile, hadn’t moved, his gaze fixed on Haechan, his face a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “You were my best friend,” he said quietly, his voice trembling. “How could you do this?”

Haechan opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, looking utterly defeated. “Mark, I—”

“Don’t” Mark interrupted, shaking his head. “Just don’t.”

The room fell silent again, but it didn’t last long.

Jeno broke it with a frustrated sigh, throwing his hands in the air. “God, Haechan, you couldn’t have just told us? About all of this? Especially about… you know.”

Haechan frowned, his exhaustion giving way to irritation. “Why the hell would I have to tell you?”

Jeno leaned forward, incredulous. “Uh, maybe because we all used to sleep and shower together back in the day? I want to know if the guy I sleep next to is a homosexual.”

Haechan tilted his head, genuinely confused. “And why would that concern you Jeno?”

“Of course it concerns me Haechan I-“ Jeno started before being interrupted.

Jaemin, who had been quietly sipping his drink, suddenly smirked, half-laughing. “Oh, you shouldn’t be the one pointing fingers, Jeno.”

All eyes turned to Jaemin now, confusion written across everyone’s faces.

Daeun blinked, looking at him. “What are you talking about?”

Jaemin looked at Jeno, then back at the group, his expression unreadable. “Really? None of you ever noticed anything? You thought I had fewer girls than Haechan just because I wasn’t trying hard enough? There was a reason I was always with Jeno.”

The table erupted in shock, voices overlapping in disbelief.

“W-what..?” Jaemin’s revelation sent Soyul into full-blown tears.

Renjun, however, seemed unfazed. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Yeah, I already knew. Heard them in the changing rooms back in high school.”

Soyul stood abruptly, her sobs echoing in the room. “Jaemin,” she cried, her voice breaking. “This isn’t still going on, right? It’s just old stuff, it isn’t happening anymore right? Right Jaemin? Tell me I’m right.”

Daeun immediately went to comfort her, wrapping her arms around Soyul’s shaking shoulders.

Jaemin’s smirk disappeared, replaced by guilt as he rubbed a hand over his face. “Soyul, I—”

“Is it still happening?” Soyul partially screamed, her voice filled with desperation.

Jaemin lowered his head, unable to meet her eyes.

Soyul’s tears intensified, and she choked out “Jaemin I-m..”

The boy tried to look at her.

“I’m pregnant Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened in shock, and he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“What?..”

But Soyul didn’t let him approach her. She backed away, shaking her head as she sobbed uncontrollably. Then, turning on her heel, she bolted toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Renjun, looking exasperated but concerned, stood up and followed her, muttering “Great. Just great.”

The room was left in stunned silence, everyone staring at Jaemin, who stood frozen, his face pale.

Haechan, still seated, let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Well, this just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

No one responded. The only sound was Soyul’s muffled sobs from behind the bathroom door.

The tension in the room hung heavy like a storm cloud, and it wasn’t long before Jeno erupted. He slammed his hands on the table, standing up abruptly and glaring at Jaemin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he barked, his voice shaking with anger. “Why would you say that? To everyone? Here? Now?”

Jaemin, still standing, looked at him, his expression unreadable. He met Jeno’s furious gaze with a steady one of his own. “What did you expect, Jeno? That we’d just keep pretending forever? Sooner or later, it was bound to come out. Better now than years down the line.”

Jeno scoffed, his tone bitter. “You think this is better? You think this was the right time? I would’ve taken this secret to my grave if I could. That’s what I wanted.”

Jaemin smirked slightly, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you would, Jeno. You’ve always been good at hiding, haven’t you?”

Jeno’s fists clenched, his jaw tightening as he took a threatening step toward Jaemin. “You have no idea what you’ve just done” he hissed.

At that moment, Haechan pushed his chair back and stood, his eyes flicking between the two men. His voice was sharp as he interjected, “Okay, hold up. Where’s all this oppressed homophobia coming from, Jeno?”

Jeno whipped his head toward Haechan, his face flushed with frustration. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Haechan crossed his arms and tilted his head, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. “Oh, come on. You’re out here acting like Jaemin just destroyed your life or something. Let’s not forget, it was you in his bed, not someone else. Repeatedly. No matter how much you want to deny it now.”

Jeno’s face turned red, and his breathing quickened. “Shut up, Haechan. You don’t know anything about it.”

“I don’t?” Haechan shot back, taking a step forward. His voice grew louder, his tone dripping with mockery. “Because it sounds to me like you’re just mad that you liked it. That you liked him. And now you’re pissed because everyone knows.”

At this point he clearly knows what he’s talking about.

Like he’s talking to his younger self.

“Don’t,” Jeno growled, pointing a finger at Haechan, his voice trembling with rage. “Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jaemin interjected, his voice cold. He stepped closer to Jeno, his eyes narrowing. “You can try to rewrite history all you want, but you know damn well that none of this was one-sided. You were just as much a part of it as I was.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Jaemin’s words hanging in the air like a guillotine. Jeno turned away, running a hand through his hair as he paced in frustration. His breathing was labored, his mind clearly racing as he tried to process everything.

The tension in the room hadn’t yet dissipated when Daeun, standing near the edge of the table, looked visibly shaken. Her normally composed demeanor was gone, replaced by wide eyes and a trembling hand that hovered near her lips. She had been silent through most of the arguments, absorbing the chaos, but now it seemed something had shaken her even more.

And, unexpectedly, it was her phone that buzzed sharply on the table, piercing through the uneasy quiet. The sound was different—a personal ringtone—and it made her freeze. Slowly, everyone’s attention shifted to her.

She stared at the phone like it was a live grenade, her breath catching. She gulped audibly, her hands fidgeting by her sides.

From across the table, Mark raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with suspicion. “Well? Are you going to get that?”

Daeun’s gaze flicked to him, then to the phone. Her voice cracked slightly as she forced herself to speak. “Are we really… still doing this?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with resignation.

Chenle, who had been unusually quiet during the earlier confrontations, suddenly stood and reached for her phone. “Answer the damn phone, Daeun.” he said firmly, his tone sharper than usual. His eyes met hers with a mix of concern and frustration.

Her hand hesitated over the screen before tremblingly hitting the green button.

“Hello?” she said softly, her voice so low it was almost a whisper.

A man’s voice came through the speaker, loud enough to be heard by the others.

“Daeun?” the male voice called, familiar and almost gentle.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “Yes,” she replied in a small voice. “I’m listening.”

Jeno, who had been quietly stewing after his earlier clash with Jaemin, suddenly sat down beside her. His gaze bore into her, searching, confused, concerned. The intensity of their eye contact was palpable, like an entire conversation was being held without words.

The man’s voice on the other end of the phone continued, oblivious to the growing tension in the room. “I’ve been thinking about you. About… us and everything.” His tone dropped slightly, more hesitant. “How have you been feeling? Since, you know… the thing?”

The weight of his words dropped like a bomb in the room.

Jeno’s eyes narrowed slightly, confusion etching his features. He leaned forward slightly, his focus entirely on Daeun. She didn’t look away, her gaze locked with his even as the voice on the phone kept talking.

The man sighed. “I feel like I should’ve reached out sooner. I just… I’m sorry about how everything happened. We should’ve been more careful.” Then, after a pause, the voice added tentatively, “Does he know?”

Daeun stiffened, her lips parting but no words coming out. She and Jeno stayed locked in their silent standoff until finally, with her voice barely audible, she said, “No. He doesn’t know.”

With that, she ended the call abruptly, her hand shaking as she placed the phone back on the table.

The silence that followed was deafening. No one dared to speak. All eyes were on her and Jeno.

Finally, Jeno broke the silence, his voice low and harsh. “So? What was he talking about?”

Daeun’s hands curled into fists at her sides, but she refused to answer him.

“Daeun�� Jeno pressed, his tone rising with frustration. “What the fuck was he talking about?”

She finally spoke, her jaw tight. “You don’t have the right to make that tone with me.” she snapped.

“The hell I don’t!” Jeno’s voice boomed as he stood again, abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Tell me what the fuck he meant!”

Her control broke. “I was pregnant!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the room. She stood as well, facing him with fire in her eyes.

The words hit like a physical blow, and Jeno froze, his face paling.

The room fell silent again, everyone too stunned to even breathe. Daeun and Jeno stared at each other, their gazes unrelenting and raw.

Jeno’s lips moved, but no sound came out at first. Finally, he whispered, his voice broken and tentative, “It wasn’t mine, was it?”

Daeun let out a bitter laugh, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “How could it have been yours, Jeno? It’s been months since the last time you touched me.”

Her words cut deep and Jeno flinched.

Then, with a deliberate pause, she glanced at Jaemin—just briefly, but enough for everyone to catch it—before turning her gaze back to Jeno. Her voice dropped to a deadly calm. “…And now I understand why.”

The implication of her words rippled through the room like an electric shock.

Daeun’s gaze lingered on Jeno for a moment longer before she let out a shaky breath and stormed away, walking past the table. She headed toward the bathroom, where Soyul was still crying, cuddled with Renjun.

Jeno stood rooted to the spot, his fists clenched tightly by his sides. His face was a mixture of shock, anger, and something deeper—regret, maybe, or guilt.

No one said a word. The weight of the revelation was too much to process.

Jeno finally let out a shaky breath and sat back down, his head in his hands. “What the fuck,” he muttered under his breath, though no one could tell if he was talking to himself or everyone else.

The heavy silence in the living room seemed impenetrable, each person trapped in their own thoughts after the night’s shocking revelations. Even the usual sounds of the house—Mark’s fridge humming, the faint ticking of a wall clock—felt muted under the suffocating weight of everything left unsaid.

Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Everyone jolted, startled by the noise, and looked around the room in confusion.

“Who the hell is that?” Jaemin muttered under his breath, still nursing the glass of wine he hadn’t taken a sip from.

Chinsun, still perched on the edge of the sofa where she’d been sitting with Chenle, let out a dry laugh. “I guess another one of Lee Donghyuck’s boyfriends has arrived!” she said, her tone cutting.

Haechan glared at her from his corner of the room, but before he could retort, Chinsun stood, brushing imaginary dust off her pants, and motioned toward the door. Chenle hesitated but eventually stood alongside her.

The rest of the group, including Renjun, Daeun, and Soyul, who had just returned from the bathroom, slowly began to gather near the door. The tension among them was palpable as they waited for Chinsun to open it.

When she finally did, the tall, broad figure of a strikingly handsome young man was revealed. His tailored coat and polished shoes screamed wealth, and his air of confidence seemed out of place in the disheveled chaos of Mark’s house.

The man smiled hesitantly, trying to break the ice. “Hi, I’m—”

But Chinsun interrupted him before he could finish. “You can come in and get Haechan,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “And then the both of you can get the fuck out of this house.”

The young man blinked, clearly caught off guard, his confused gaze shifting from Chinsun to the rest of the group. His eyes scanned the crowd, passing over each face until they landed on one that finally seemed to click.

“…Uh, I don’t even know who Haechan is” he said, his voice unsure but firm. His eyes locked onto his loved one, and his expression softened. “I’m here for Chenle.”

The room fell into a stunned silence.

The air, already heavy, seemed to grow impossibly thicker.

Chenle let out a long, weary sigh, stepping forward past his frozen friends to stand beside the man. He reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers, and turned to face the group. His gaze swept over their stunned expressions—some confused, some shocked.

“Yes” Chenle began calmly, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “This is my boyfriend, Jisung. Or as some of you may know him… Jiul.”

The collective gasp that followed was almost theatrical in its intensity.

“Jiul?” Jeno blurted out, his tone somewhere between disbelief and accusation. “Why the hell did you tell us it was a girl?”

“And why didn’t you bring him to dinner?” Yunhee added, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.

Chenle huffed out a dry laugh, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jisung, who looked equally baffled by the situation.

“You want to know why?” Chenle began, his voice sharper now as his frustration bubbled to the surface. He gestured around the room with his free hand, his gaze unwavering. “Look at everything that’s happened tonight. Look at how all of you reacted to Haechan’s situation, to Renjun’s story. The petty fights, the accusations, the thinly veiled homophobia that’s been lurking under the surface all night. And you wonder why I didn’t bring Jisung here?”

No one spoke, though a few of them visibly shifted, uncomfortable under his words.

Chenle shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. “I told you Jisung was a girl because I knew—I knew—that if I told the truth, you’d judge me. You’d judge him. You’d find some way to make this about your own insecurities instead of just letting us be happy.”

Jisung squeezed the boy’s hand gently, his expression softening, but Chenle wasn’t done.

“I didn’t want him to come tonight, and now I’m glad I didn’t bring him to dinner,” Chenle continued. “Because this,” he gestured at the group again, “this mess? It would’ve ruined him. He’s too pure for this—too pure for all of you.”

He turned his gaze pointedly to Jeno and then to Jaemin. “You two can’t even have a functional friendship without dragging your relationship baggage into it.”

Then he turned to Haechan. “You spend so much time lying to yourself and everyone else that you’ve started destroying the people who care about you most. You have no right to judge anyone else when you’ve been tearing your own life apart from the inside.”

Finally, his gaze landed on the entire group, sweeping across them like a storm. “And the rest of you? You sit here and watch, like you’re better than everyone else, when the truth is you’re just as broken and hypocritical. You still have all this deep-seated homophobia inside of you—whether you realize it or not. You can’t even handle a little honesty without blowing up. And that’s on you. That’s something you all need to fix in yourselves instead of pointing fingers at everyone else.”

The room fell silent again, Chenle’s words hanging heavy in the air.

Jisung finally spoke up, his voice hesitant but kind. “Uh… Should we go? I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

Chenle glanced at him, his expression softening for the first time since he started talking. “Yes” he said quietly. “I think it’s time to go home”

Chenle gave one last glance at the group, his eyes hard but filled with disappointment. “Good night, everyone,” he said flatly, his hand still clasped firmly in Jisung’s. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the others staring at the space they had occupied moments before.

Renjun was the first to move. His gaze flickered to the others—no goodbye, no explanation—just a glance that spoke of finality. Without a word, he walked over to Daeun, who had been standing near the kitchen island, her expression unreadable. “Come on,” he said softly, and she nodded, letting him guide her out of the house.

Soyul followed soon after, her tear-streaked face pale and exhausted. Chinsun, who had been silently leaning against the wall, pushed herself off with a small sigh. She grabbed her coat and bag and walked toward the door without sparing anyone a second glance.

They didn’t say goodbye. The door opened, and they left.

Jaemin and Jeno stood awkwardly near the door, their expressions as cold as the night air that began to seep through the cracks. Jeno looked at Jaemin, his eyes conflicted, before sighing heavily and grabbing his coat from the back of a chair. Jaemin followed suit, his movements slower, as if weighed down by unspoken words.

As they reached the door, Jaemin hesitated, looking back at Yunhee. His lips twitched into a faint smile—one of acknowledgment, regret, and resignation all rolled into one. He nodded at her slightly before stepping out after Jeno, letting the door fall shut behind them.

Now, only Mark, Yunhee, and Haechan remained.

The living room felt cavernous, like a hollow shell of the home it had been only hours earlier. The three of them stood frozen, avoiding each other’s gazes.

Haechan sighed deeply and moved toward the coat rack. He pulled on his jacket, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He lingered for a moment, standing by the door, his hand resting on the handle.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mark and Yunhee exchanged a glance, but neither of them responded. There were no words left, nothing that could smooth over the damage that had been done tonight.

Haechan didn’t wait for a reply. He opened the door and stepped out into the cold, letting the door close behind him with a soft click.

One by one, as they exited the house, the lunar eclipse began to fade. The moon, which had been cloaked in shadow, slowly emerged into the light once more. Its silver glow illuminated the quiet streets outside, casting long shadows as if trying to cleanse the darkness that had enveloped the night.

Mark stood by the window, watching as the obscurity faded and the world outside returned to normal. The celestial phenomenon, which had felt so significant just hours earlier, now seemed like nothing more than a fleeting event—a brief moment of darkness before the light inevitably returned.

Underneath the glow of the moonlight, Chenle and Jisung waited near their car. They lingered by the curb, their faces relaxed, but their conversation was light and casual.

Daeun and Soyul exited the house shortly after, joined by Renjun and Chinsun. They strolled down the steps, their chatter warm and friendly. Daeun raised an eyebrow at Jisung, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “So, who’s this handsome guy, huh?” he asked.

Chinsun followed up, her curiosity piqued. “Where have you been hiding him, Chenle?”

Chenle stole a quick glance at Jisung before responding smoothly “Oh, we’re just really close friends. Same department and all that. You know how it is.”

The others nodded, the explanation seemingly enough, and the group shifted into easy conversation. Laughter bubbled up as Jaemin and Jeno joined them, their arms casually draped over their girlfriends. Jeno playfully nudged Chenle with a grin. “Something’s fishy. Is there something going on between you two? Chenle, are you hiding something?”

“Me?” Chenle asked, feigning mock indignation as he stole another glance at Jisung. “Never.”

Everyone laughed, the tension of the evening evaporating into the cool night air. When Haechan finally emerged from the house, Chinsun turned to him with a radiant smile, her hand waving him over. “Come on, baby! We’re all waiting for you!”

Haechan jogged down the steps, his face lighting up as he reached her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “What’d I miss?” he asked, slipping an arm around her waist.

“Nothing important” she replied with a grin.

Chenle jingled his car keys. “Alright, I guess this is where we part ways. See you all next time?”

A chorus of agreements followed, and the group exchanged playful goodbyes.

Haechan stopped in his tracks, turning to call out, “Jaemin! Don’t forget about the basketball game next weekend. We’ve got space if you can keep up.”

Jaemin smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Keep up? I’m ready to destroy you.”

“I’d like to see you try” Haechan shot back with a grin, before returning to Chinsun’s side.

The group dispersed, heading to their cars or walking down the street under the soft glow of the moonlight, as though nothing had shifted in the delicate balance of their friendships.

Back at the house, Mark and Yunhee were finishing up. The table was cleared, the wine glasses washed and left to dry. Mark wiped his hands on a towel as Yunhee sat on the edge of the bed, taking off her jewels.

“Long night” she said, her voice light.

Mark nodded, leaning against the doorway of their bedroom. “Yeah. You know, I’m glad we didn’t play that game tonight” he said, his tone measured.

Yunhee glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “Why? What’s so bad about a silly game?”

Mark sighed, crossing his arms. “Sometimes it’s better not to know everything. People have their secrets, and maybe they need to stay secrets. Not because they’re trying to hurt anyone, but because knowing them wouldn’t help anything. It would just… ruin things.”

Yunhee considered this for a moment, nodding slowly. “I guess you’re right. But honestly, I don’t even have anything to hide” she said with a small smile as she placed her earrings on the nightstand, right next to her phone.

Mark’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Those earrings are beautiful, by the way” he said softly.

Yunhee chuckled, sliding under the covers. “Thanks, they’re my favorite.”

Mark reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. “Goodnight,” he murmured as the room plunged into darkness.

Outside, the moon shone brightly, its light spilling into the quiet streets below. The obscurity had passed, but its lingering shadows remained, woven subtly into the hearts of those who had gathered that night. Though the light had returned, it seemed that not everything could go back to normal. And yet, life went on, as it always does, under the moon’s watchful gaze.

[electricea]

on being 30.

my birthday is this weekend and i don't really know how much free time i'll have to spend on here, so i did want to poke on here and at least say something - thank you for another year together, whether we've just met or have known each other for ages, i genuinely appreciate being able to spend another year on this website with so many great folks, sincerely - i appreciate every dm, every image, it doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated.

i've sort of touched on before on how 2024 has been a sort of a slump for a year for me - i've always sort of battled with self doubt and self loathing and just for some reason this year, it seems to just keep coming back and i hate that i actually doubt and question myself - if there's still a place for me here and when i get in my own head like this i really isolate myself and try to just deal with it in private because i don't like being a downer so if you have noticed me not exactly being the most responsive or talkative lately, that’s why - i’m not angry with anyone, i’m not trying to be cold with anyone - going back into my shell is just what I do and how I cope, it always has been, i don't even like writing this. and to make this clear, this is a me problem - not an anyone else problem, period - this isn't a vague or to point fingers, the issue is with me.

i think what sort of prompted this was seeing a lot of people open up about their own feelings and insecurities and I get the sense that 2024 hasn’t exactly been a great year for a lot of people either and my mindset has always been so long as it's not being passive aggressive or directing the blame at others, i honestly think it's good to have an outlet to just say how you're feeling once in a while - how else will people know what you're struggling with? of course what they choose to divulge is up to them and no one has to divulge if they don't want to, we're all just here for rp and for fun but i think sort of seeing others also struggling with having a crappy year and seeming to be in similar slumps was what really prompted me to write this. i hope it's just down to 2024 being a cursed year or something, lol.

like i said, i do genuinely appreciate all of you - i think more than anything else, more than rp or writing, the people are what keeps me coming back to tumblr - getting to write with and meet so many different writers from across the world (and possibly even talk with some of them and hang out with them??) is honestly a privilege and honour and even if i may not respond right away, please just know i appreciate every interaction, every message, every person. thank you all for being a part of my tumblr experience for another year and for already getting this birthday off to a lovely start. take care of yourselves.

[watchmegetobsessed]

UNMATCHED II.

A/N: soooo you guys were just as horny for a part 2 to this story as i was so here we are, giving in to the temptation. disclaimer, i know their behavior is giving red flag energy but lets just put that aside for the sake of the story now lol

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

WARNING: sexual content, age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry has been trying his best to forget what happened with Y/N, he is set on never making the same mistake, but it seems like fate has different plans for him.

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

That skirt. That goddamned skirt. That’s gonna be the death of Harry. 

And also the fact that she went back to that asshole. 

Sitting in the busy school cafeteria Harry has zoned out of the conversation at the table a long time ago, precisely when he saw Y/N stroll in wearing that short skirt with that dickhead she should have ditched already or better, she shouldn’t have even dated him in the first place. But now they are moving in the line with their group of friends and he has his hand on her waist and it keeps inching lower, just a few more inches and his hand could be slipping under her skir–

“Harry? Hello?” 

Stella catches his attention and he is forced to move his focus back to his colleagues at the table. 

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” He clears his throat and keeps his eyes on his half-eaten sandwich in front of him. 

“What’s up with you? You haven’t been your usual self lately.”

“Just… tired. I’m behind with my research and have a bunch of papers to grade before winter break.”

“The joys of being a teacher,” Stella chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’ll get better with time.”

“Really?”

“No,” she smirks at him. “But you’ll care less.”

She soon returns to the conversation at the table and Harry finds himself looking for Y/N again. There’s no trace of her in the line, but he is quick to spot her at a table across the dining hall, sitting beside Dickhead who has an arm around her neck, keeping her close as he wants everyone to know that they are together.

And it irks Harry way more than it probably should. 

It’s been a little over a week since Stella’s Christmas party and also that very heated and very wrong kiss he shared with Y/N. That weekend was like hell, he kept beating himself over and over about it, cursing himself out for being so stupid and reckless. He still has no idea what came over him that let him make out with a student, but he knew one thing for sure: it couldn’t happen again. 

So when Y/N walked into the classroom before his first lecture early on monday he didn’t even let her speak before he got to the point. 

“It shouldn’t have happened. I’m so sorry for it, but I can’t undo it now. I suggest let’s pretend nothing happened, it’s for the absolute best. No one can know about it and it will never happen again.”

She seemed taken aback by his outburst, but after a bit of hesitation she nodded.

“Okay. Nothing happened. It must have been the wine.”

“Yes,” he agreed right away. “We both drank more than we should have and made a mistake.”

She flinched at his last word, but didn’t protest, only nodded, holding her textbooks tighter to her chest. She looked so sad, even disappointed that Harry almost wanted to take back what he just said, but he knew he couldn’t. 

“Are you… okay?” he dared to ask, but when she looked at him again, her eyes told nothing. 

“I’m fine. I’ll see you in class, professor.”

And she was out of the classroom before he could say another word. In class she sat in the back and not even once did she look at him. He knows, because he kept looking at her. 

He’s been trying his best to get her out of his head, but with not much luck. Not when all he can think about is how soft her lips felt against his, how insanely good she tasted mixed with the coldness of the night, how amazingly she fit into his palm, the curve of her neck, back, waist and hips… and how badly he wants to experience it again even though it’s the worst possible idea. 

Harry thinks he is going insane. Genuinely. 

He’s been burying himself into work, but his focus has been all over the place, so it’s been more like a waste of time. He is one of the last ones in the building today as well. Most professors left a long time ago, but the lights in Harry’s tiny office are still on as he is hunched over a stack of papers. When he has to read over the same line for the twentieth time he drops his pen with a tired groan and leans back in his chair. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes roughly, until he is practically seeing stars. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, staring at the papers that are still waiting to be graded. Checking the time on his phone he is surprised to see that it’s already past seven.

He stands from his chair and steps to the window. The campus looks quiet at this time, only a few students are walking towards the dorm that’s next to the literature department’s building. It’s a wednesday night, the semester ends next week so some lucky students who have no more exams left in the year have already left for the holidays. Harry will be going home right before Christmas, he plans to use those few days of the break to work on his research in peace. 

From his window he sees part of the parking lot next to the dorm, it’s quite dark there, he almost doesn’t notice the figures sitting in the car closest to him, but a few heartbeats later realization hits him.

It’s Y/N and the dickhead. 

They are pretty far, but Harry can tell that they are in a heated fight, judging from how Y/N is gesticulating. Obviously he can’t hear them, but if he had to guess he would say she is shouting, from what he can see. 

For a moment he tells him to just ignore the scene, it’s none of anyone else’s business, let alone his. But when he sees the asshole slap his hands against the wheel several times, making Y/N jump, Harry is moving before he could second guess his actions. 

He practically sprints down that stairs, already trying to figure out how he’ll interject without appearing like a creep, but he forgets all his plans when he is marching towards the parking lot and sees the scene unfold from up close. 

At some point they must have gotten out of the car, because Harry catches the dickhead getting back into the driving seat, Y/N is crying and tries to stop him from shutting the door, but he swings it with such force that she stumbles forward, holding onto the handle. When Harry sees her almost fall to the asphalt he starts running, just as the car comes to life and he drives away so fast, he almost runs over Y/N’s feet. 

“Fuck you, Charlie! Fuck you!” She screams after the car, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Harry rushes over to her, grabs her by her shoulders and turns her away from the direction of the car. “Hey, what happened?”

She is gasping for air from the crying as she wraps her arms around her, those beautiful eyes that are usually filled with curiosity are now full of confusion and hurt. 

“Y/N, look at me,” he begs and she hiccups a few times before she finally looks him in the eyes. 

“H-Harry?”

He ignores how good it feels to hear her call him by his first name again and tries to focus on the situation.

“Yeah. Let’s get inside, okay? It’s freezing cold.”

She nods and lets him steer her towards the building and up to his office. By the time she sits in the old armchair in the corner of his office she has stopped sobbing, but her expression looks just as miserable as before. 

“I’ll make you a tea. Do you like tea?” he asks, stepping over to the tiny side table where he keeps his kettle and tiny tea collection with two mugs. She nods and he is quick to turn on the kettle. He grabs a chamomile filter and drops it into one of the mugs and while the water boils he hands her a box of tissues that she accepts with a quietly murmured thank you. 

When the tea is done he hands her the mug and sits in his chair, unsure what to say. He definitely did not plan to have her in his office anytime soon and definitely not like this. 

“Go on, lecture me about being with him,” she says at last, staring into the mug in her hands. 

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“But you’d be right.” She looks up at him, eyes still red from the crying. 

“Why did you go back to him?” he softly asks, not wanting to make her feel even worse. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, looking away again. “He could be convincing, I guess.”

“Hope you won’t believe him after this.”

“No,” she chuckles bitterly before taking a sip from the tea, leaning back in the armchair. “Not even the sex will convince me to go back to him.”

Harry’s muscles jump at her words. Not because he is such a prude, but because instantly he is thinking about sex… and her… and his body reacts involuntarily. Clearing his throat he crosses his legs and looks anywhere but at her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she chuckles softly, but she doesn’t seem sorry at all. 

“No, I… um…” Harry has no idea what to say. This feels like such an impossible situation, he is definitely walking on eggshells here and the fact that he is semi-hard does not help his case. 

While he is looking for the right words she places her mug to his desk and crosses her legs, a curious look playing in her eyes as she is looking at him. She appears calm and confident suddenly, like she wasn’t sobbing ten minutes ago. 

“I lied,” she then speaks up.

“About what?”

“I know why I went back to him.”

“Oh. Okay, why did you?”

She holds his gaze for one… two… three seconds before her lips part, then she hesitates for one more moment before answering. 

“Because I couldn’t go to you.”

A shiver runs down his spine at her words, his body is betraying him already, but he hangs onto the last bit of his rationality.

“Y/N, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t tell the truth?”

“We agreed that we are not talking about it again.”

“I’m not talking about that night. I’m talking about how badly I’ve been wanting you, but knowing I can’t have you I went back to Charlie even though I knew I shouldn’t have.” 

“Y/N…” His mouth is dry and he feels ridiculously hot even though the heating hasn’t been working too well lately in his office. He is clawing at the arms of his chair, trying to keep the remains of his cool, though it feels like he is hanging on a thread.

“I won’t do anything about it, don’t worry. And I won’t bring it up again.” She sounds different this time, the confidence has turned into what feels like disappointment and it lurches something in Harry’s gut. 

Standing she smoothes her clothes before looking at Harry, a tiny sliver of expectancy glistening in her eyes. 

“Thanks for the tea. I better get going.”

She is already moving towards the door when Harry jumps to his feet, entirely lost about what to think, do or say. He strides after her and just when she is about to reach for the knob, he grabs her other hand, stopping her mid action. 

But he has no idea why he just did that. His rationality is screaming at him, but with each passing moment he spends holding her hand, the noise gets farther and farther away until it’s lost somewhere in the back of his mind. 

Slowly, she turns her head, eyes taking in the sight of their touching hands before her gaze meets his. He instantly stumbles back, letting go of her like she was on fire, but she doesn’t seem surprised. Instead, she turns around and just stands there, with a calm, but determined look on her face. 

“Careful professor,” she then speaks up. “I might take your actions as a hint.”

“A hint…” he breathes out, almost mesmerized with her, he is convinced she’s put a spell on him, because he can’t move or think straight, he just keeps staring at her.

“Yes, a hint,” she nods shortly. “That you want me just as much as I want you.”

He swallows down a moan that almost slips through his lips at her words. His whole body is burning for her, palms sweating and itching to touch her and he can almost taste her on his tongue again, desperate to pick up from where they left off not long ago. 

The tiniest smirk tugs on the corners of her mouth when she sees just how much he is struggling and she takes it as her queue to push her luck just a bit further. She takes a step closer to him, but still leaves some space between them, wanting him to close those last inches. 

“You know you can have me.” She cocks her head to the side, blinking up at him innocently. “Right here, on your desk or in that armchair. I want to be your good girl and take whatever you give me.”

“Stop it,” he manages to breathe out, but all his strength is gone, it sounds more like a plea rather than an order. 

“What if I don’t?” she sassily questions. “Will you punish me?”

Harry whimpers. They both know he is close to breaking and she is not stepping down now and she’s determined to push him over the edge. Slowly she reaches up, drags a finger across her lips before moving then down, tugging at her shirt at her chest, revealing more of the exposed skin there, then she starts playing with the top button, all while keeping her eyes focused on him. He sucks on his breath, his gaze keeps switching between her eyes and what her fingers are doing. 

Then it pops open, revealing the delicious swell of her breasts and a bit of the lacy bra as well and he knows he is gone. 

“Close the curtain,” he simply orders and a sudden rush of excitement washes over her as she quickly moves across the room, drawing the curtains on the window and turning around she is expecting him to be in the same spot, but to her surprise he is right there and before she could say a word, his lips crash down on hers with such force she would have fallen back if he didn’t already have an arm around her waist. 

His other hand is quick to find its way to her throat first, then to her jaw, angling her head perfectly so he can devour her. 

He spins them around and she gasps when her ass meets the edge of his desk, still kissing her he pushes forward, blindly tossing everything on the desk aside to make room, something clatters as it falls to the ground but neither of them cares to even look. His hands are on the back of her legs and he helps her up until she is sitting on top of the desk. 

She eagerly opens her thighs and circles her legs around his hips, pulling him closer and when she feels just how hard he already is, pushing against her clothed center, she can’t help but moan at the sensation. 

“It’s a one time thing,” he pants when her fingers start to work on his shirt and his hands find the button of her jeans. 

“Sure,” she breathes out smiling.

“Just to get it out of our system.”

“Of course,” she nods eagerly, and a moment later she is tugging his shirt off his shoulders. 

Buttons come undone, clothes are thrown across the room and soon enough all of his focus is on her naked chest, his hands exploring the tender, heated skin before his head dips down and his mouth meets her hardened nipples. 

“Oh fuck,” she moans, head falling back as she has an arm around his shoulders, the other one planted behind her on the desk. All while his hands are tugging down her jeans, finally giving him the chance to touch her inner thighs, exploring the warmth and softness he’s been fantasizing about for so long. 

He gently bites on one of her nipples, making her back arch, burying his face between her breasts before he leans back to get rid of her jeans. She has a moment to admire his naked torso, all the tattoos he’s been hiding under his clothes, his pants are hanging around his knees and his erection is throbbing through the fabric of his underwear. She can’t help but smile at the sight, it’s surely one she’ll remember forever.

When her jeans are discarded on the floor he plants his hands on her thighs and pushes them wide open, revealing her drenched panties. He brings his thumb over the wet fabric, lazily drags it over her clit, making her tremble under his touch. Then keeping eye contact with her he pulls his chair under him, sits down and rolls closer so his face is perfectly lined up with her. With his eyes still locked on hers, he leans forward, moves her panties to the side and places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to her throbbing clit, making her moan so loud, he digs his fingers into her thighs pulling back. 

“You need to be quiet,” he warns her and she just eagerly nods, watching him take her underwear off completely and go back to where he was a moment ago. 

Harry drinks up her taste, he licks, kisses and sucks on the right spots, making her see stars as her orgasm is building up. When she feels two of his fingers slip into her she grabs a handful of his hair, tugging on it. 

But right when she is about to tip over the edge he pulls back, leaving her in a heaving mess. Reaching into one of his drawers he grabs a condom and standing up he watches her lying on his desk, chest rapidly rising and falling while he rolls the condom on. 

To his surprise, she gets up and jumps off the desk, taking the initiative by pushing him down back into the chair and straddling his lap. His hands are quick to move to her ass as his cock wedges between her drenched folds. He hisses when she starts rolling her hips, making them both even more feral for what’s about to come. 

She leans forward and kisses him, her hand reaching down between them until it finds his cock. She gives him a few lazy strokes to which he hums lowly into her mouth. Then she stops her kisses, lips still brushing against his, eyes meeting again as she lifts herself up just enough to angle him underneath her and then slowly she eases down, letting him enter her inch by inch until she is filled entirely. She gasps at the feeling of her walls stretching around him and they both stop for a few moments, just savoring how perfectly they fit together. 

She plants both her hands to the base of his neck, kisses him again and starts moving her hips. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” he groans, locking his arms around her, fingers digging into her naked back and side as she starts to slowly pick up her pace, bouncing on him. 

When he starts thrusting upwards, meeting her movements, her head rolls back from how deep she feels him inside her, his tip reaching the perfect spot. 

“Yes, right there!” she gasps as he buries his head in her neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin while keeping his rhythm. “I’m so close,” she breathes out, her hands raking through his messy hair. 

Wanting even more friction she adjusts herself and then starts moving faster and rougher, aching for the release. She looks down, her eyes meet his gaze and she just knows he is as close as she is. 

“Harry,” she moans and hearing his name fall from her lips is what pushes him over the edge.

Grunting, his thrusts get rougher and fall out of their fast pace, he pushes into her over and over again as he fills the condom and watching him fall apart helps her let go as well. He feels her walls tighten around him while he is still riding out the afterwaves of his own orgasm, her mouth hangs open, nails digging into his shoulders so harshly they surely leave marks. 

Then they both slowly come off their high and she leans forward, capturing his lips in a much softer kiss than the ones they’ve shared just minutes ago. He gladly returns, their lips melt together and his fingers gently roam her naked back while he is still inside her. 

They’re quiet when she moves off him and grabs a few tissues to clean herself up while he discards the condom. The clothes are picked up from the floor one by one and a sense of unsureness settles between them as they both get dressed. 

She was the only thing on his mind just five minutes ago, but now that the sex haze is gone, his thoughts start racing. What did he do? What will happen now? This shouldn’t have happened but still, he wants to do it again and again and again. 

As if she knew he was panicking inside, she steps to him, takes his face in her hands and pulls him into a long, passionate kiss that instantly makes him forget about everything else. 

“Don’t overthink it,” she whispers against his lips. “We’re adults.”

“I’m your teacher,” he hums.

“The semester is almost over. Grade my last paper and we’re done,” she simply says with very little care about his current status. But he is not that sold on it just yet, hesitation and worry is all over his face. “Did you not want it?”

“You know how much I wanted it,” he admits defeatedly. 

“Great. I wanted it too. And I want it again. So I’ll come by tomorrow again. You’ll bend me over that desk after I had your cock in my mouth, then tell me what grade I’m getting for the semester and we do it again after that.”

He is already feeling himself getting hard again. Deep down he knows he should say no, but he has no will left to fight with himself anymore. So all he does is nod and then kiss her. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, professor.” She grabs her coat from the floor and then walks out of his office like nothing happened. 

Harry falls into his chair and assesses the mess on and around his desk, staring at the spot where she was sitting not long ago. He knows he is making his biggest mistake ever, but sinning has never felt this good.

And right now he is willing to take this risk.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[fourstarsoutofnine]

To get away, Chapter 5

Things we don’t speak of.

Not beta read lol

Tw: talks about ptsd and healing, and legend self loathing but are we surprised? No.

“So.” The traveler said, eyes drooping as he and the veteran walked out of your room. He was still exhausted.

“So.” The veteran mirrored him.

“Are we going to talk about that?”

The veteran took a deep breath and heaved a sigh. “Link. There are some things we don’t talk about… things we don’t speak of….” He took another breath. “This is one of them.”

“Often, those are the things we need to speak of most… you know I’ll understand more than anyone.” The traveler put a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to him slightly, a pained expression on his face. “…but will you? Will you really?”

“Have I ever given you a reason to think otherwise?”

The veteran stalled, looking off beside the traveler’s head. “…no.”

“Exactly. Let me in.” His grip on the vet’s shoulder tightened slightly. Comfortingly. That pressure was comforting.

The vet pulled him down the stairs and outside. He was never good at talking about his feelings and trauma, and goddesses forbid anyone else being around to hear it. He took a deep breath and looked off, not wanting to look the traveler in the face while he spoke.

“…one of my adventures consisted of…” he paused. “a dream. And that was the only time I’ve ever… trusted someone with—me… and that wound me up losing who at the time I was so sure was the love of my life. I lost her to this big stupid windfish. The entire thing was fake—it was the windfish’s dream and i had to wake him up. Marin was gone after that. The island was gone.” He fought back the bile rising in his throat. “It’s all just a distant memory now but-…. All the time, I’m terrified of waking up and everything being a dream. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I can’t let myself be happy, and I hate it. Why do I do that? Why can’t I just let myself be happy?”

The veteran finally looked over at the traveler, tears in his eyes and threatening to spill. The traveler wrapped him in a tight hug. “Fear does that, Link. Creeps up on you. Sometimes you’ll go ages without thinking about it and then all of a sudden bam. You’re back in. You feel like you’ve been dragged back, claw marks in the dirt—but you haven’t. You don’t have to start over every time you have a flashback. And you don’t have to stop yourself from being happy… you can let yourself be happy. Don’t waste your life waiting on the other shoe will drop… Cause you’ll realize it never will, and realize you’ve spent so long trying to survive that you never lived.”

The veteran took a deep breath and his shoulders shook. He was crying. That soft, quiet cry developed into a sob as years of unprocessed trauma and heartbreak came forth, flowing out like a cup of wine left under a running tap. Healing.

“If—it happened so long ago—why does it still hurt so bad?” He choked out, muffled by the traveler’s tunic.

“It’s like a bone.” He said softly. “When a bone heals wrong, you have to break it again so it will heal properly. Then you can use it.” He rubbed his back.

The veteran felt small. He realized this was the smallest he’d ever felt in his life. He always saw the traveler as his younger brother. Someone he had to protect. Someone he loved more than himself…now, he felt like the little brother. Felt like a little boy. A kid. Cradled by his older brother, hidden away from what cruelty lies outside. Safe. The veteran felt safe.

“I’m sorry.” The traveler spoke again. “I’m so sorry that happened to you… and I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone there for you then… im sorry you feel like you need to be guarded all the time. You don’t… not with us, at least… we are all here for you. Anything you need…”

The vet nodded. He sat up and wiped his eyes, sniffling. “Thanks, man…” he sighed heavily, head feeling heavy and thick from crying. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he hated it. He hated to cry. Hated feeling small and weak.

“A bone has to be rebroken before it can heal properly.” He remembered. He wasn’t weak. He was healing.

“Really.” He spoke again. “I really, really appreciate it… thank you.” He hugged him tight.

“Always. I’m always here. So are the others…” he pulled away when the veteran did. A cold breeze passed through them and they both shuddered. “We should get inside. You need sleep.”

“..i can’t go back in there with her. I don’t—“ the veteran tried to make excuses but they died on his tongue when the traveler put a hand on his shoulder.

“You can. Just go in there. You were rooming together anyway… she’s alright. Healed, thanks to whatever powers she’s got. Go sleep in a bed.” He smiled. “You’ll wish you had a bed to sleep in a few days from now.”

The veteran huffed a laugh for the first time in a good few days. “Got that right…” they made their way back inside. Everyone had gone to bed by now. They went up to their rooms, the traveler pausing while the veteran went inside. “Night, traveler.”

“Goodnight, vet.” He smiled. “Sleep well.”

The door clicked shut and the traveler went off to bed.

[moonbeamastrology]

Dream Messages

Hello everyone, it’s been a hot minute since i posted a pick a card but uhhhhhh here u go lol. this pick a card is all about the messages your dreams have been trying to tell you. Center yourself, take a few deep breaths and chose the buggy image that calls to you. Take what resonates and leave the rest. I hope that this pick a card serves you well <3 love u

Pile 1- Caterpillar 

Dream Oracle: Dog, Baby, Falling, Elevator 

Tarot: 6 of cups, 7 of swords, 8 of swords, 9 of swords, 10 of pentacles, Temperance

(The dream oracle cards could have some themes that have been showing up in your dreams lately so check for some extra confirmation <3)

Hey pile 1 <3. You’re going through a period of growth right now (whether you resonate with ascensions, elevations, level ups, glow ups, etc) we have an ascending tarot number order ending with temperance. You may be super in your head and overthinking a lot right now or dealing with a lot of regret over the past or anxiety for a new experience (job, class, relationship, or creative project) but your dreams are trying to show you that everything is working out in a very aligned way for your best interest (*incredibly* stable, harmonious, and abundant). You’re being asked to follow your instincts during this new period and that it may not be exactly what you had envisioned or hoped for but it will be just as good or even better so be open to what the universe is trying to deliver to you. Everything will work out possibly even overnight (I’m seeing this build up of anxiety like “omg this is all going to blow up and explode” and then the situation is resolved in like the chillest manner ever). You’re undergoing *a lot* of healing while you sleep (possibly past life healing as well or having dreams of past lives) if you’ve been waking up exhausted or waking up multiple times during the night this is why (maybe check the time you wake up for some it could be a really opportune manifesting time). If there’s healing work you have been avoiding then your dreams are showing you what needs to be healed. I don’t get the feeling that it’s anything major, it’s something smaller that you’re just not really processing (character development/plot?? lol). Avoiding the work could cause a bigger problem in the long run. Your dreams have been reflecting your own reality so if you’ve been having stressful dreams, take a look at what the stressors are and how they could relate to your current experiences. Also so many cards came out so some of you could be feeling really overwhelmed at this time, make sure to delegate and to ask for help where you need it. At this time your dreams are trying to show you that you need to connect with what’s really important to you. Follow your instincts/intuition, do what you need to do but stay focused. I love you!!! <3

These mantras/affirmations come from the dream oracle deck, utilize them if you feel called to.

Dog: I pat myself on the back for expressing my instincts for love and loyalty. 

Baby: With complete trust I allow the universe to midwife me into this new chapter of my life.

Falling: I am grounded in the bedrock of the here and now, rooted to the heart of unconditional love.

Elevator: I am moving up in the world, and I grow and glow from glory to greater glory.

Pile 2- Moth

Dream Oracle: Bridge, Dance, Chase

Tarot: 7 of cups, The Hanged Man R, 4 of pentacles 

(The dream oracle cards could have some themes that have been showing up in your dreams lately so check for some extra confirmation <3)

Heyyyyy pile 2 are you guys into reality shifting or quantum leaping? If not, maybe there’s something you’re trying to manifest right now. Bridging that gap between where you are and where you want to be (what you want is already aligned). Maybe you’re literally dreaming of your dream life. You could also be experiencing some choice paralysis or you have a lot that you want to manifest in this life. Your dreams are telling you which manifestation is the most important to you right now. If there’s no indication then sit with yourself and really listen to what your heart and soul are calling you to. I feel that your dreams are trying to show you that you have subconscious blockage that’s preventing the manifestation. Or they’re showing you that you’re holding onto something that maybe you consciously don’t realize that you are. Subconscious programming/subliminals while you sleep would be really beneficial to you at this time (if you already listen to them then this is confirmation that it’s working). Drink more water. Change your perspective on how you can achieve your goals, maybe try something new (like spoiling yourself). I feel the key would be to really tap into your sensuality and luxury (big Taurus energy). Sacral chakra healing. Look into masturbation manifestation. Treat yourself how your dream self would treat you. Find out what self care really means to you. I do feel like you’re taking steps to achieve your goals so be proud of yourself for that. You are really powerful at this time, there’s just some illusion/blockage that needs to shatter before what you want manifests. Your energy felt really good pile 2 and your manifestations feel so close. Keep up the good work! I love you!!!! <3

These mantras/affirmations come from the dream oracle deck, utilize them if you feel called to.

Bridge: With my heart wide open, I realize that I am the energetic bridge that connects me from where I am to where I want to be.

Dance: Life is my dance partner, and I let it lead each step, each groove, and each move I make.

Chase: I can run but I can’t hide from my power.

Pile 3- Grasshopper

Dream Oracle: Ceremony, Elevator, Fire

Tarot: 2 of pentacles, The Devil R, The Lovers S

(The dream oracle cards could have some themes that have been showing up in your dreams lately so check for some extra confirmation <3)

Hey pile 3 I’m seeing that you guys are going through a major ascension/upgrade/level up right now. You could be going through a flame initiation or a kundalini awakening (iykyk). It feels like you have rediscovered your fire/passion recently. This fire is one of your greatest untapped gifts for real, use it wisely and intentionally because I feel it could burn people in your life if it’s not expressed. You could have just become aware of this potential and Spirit is congratulating you on that. You have come a really long way, healed, and taken accountability, it shows in your energy levels. Getting clear on what you want. There’s lots of good to come soon. You’ve released a bad habit/addiction/relationship/karmic (Spirit applauds you). If you haven’t released this yet then your dreams are showing you what it is and telling you to let go. Some situation is giving you a headache. I feel there are some distractions around and that’s what your dreams are showing you (most likely a person, unfortunately). “Glitter” by Tyler, The Creator except not all that glitters is gold. You have a really beautiful passion and fire within you, take care of it. I feel like telling you that Spirit is really really proud of you for this. I know this reading was really short but you just achieved something really awesome so I feel like some pressure has just been released so give yourself a little grace at this time. Pile 1 is also going through a level up but their energy was much more overwhelmed and worried but maybe there’s a message for you there as well. I love you!! I’m so proud of you!!! <3

These mantras/affirmations come from the dream oracle deck, utilize them if you feel called to.

Ceremony: I honor the changes through which I am going, growing, and glowing!

Elevator: I am moving up in the world, and I grow and glow from glory to greater glory.

Fire: I marvel at the miracle of alchemy as I transform and awaken to the full radiance of my destiny.

[slut4sugu]

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄..𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄! — piercer & tattoo artist kiribaku! x black fem!reader

A/N: here is the long awaited PART THREE Sorry for not coming back to this one sooner it’s just I had writers block for this one for a while and I never got around to doing it. Here it is!! (Sorry if it’s not good good wrote on this one diff days + watched arcane while wrapping up lol.) vi CMERE bae I’ll treat you right istg

genre + including: fluff, kiri being a flirt, kiribaku, reader has a pet bunny, black!femreader, cuteness lol.

part one . part two . current . part four

after katsuki revealed to you the truth about his relationship with ejirou, you had an lightbulb moment before realizing the situation you were in. “Wait you both want to go out with..me?” You pointed your manicured finger at yourself in slight shock, still trying to wrap your head around it all. While katsuki sat up with his toned arms folded across his chest, “what are you the picky type?” He teased, yet still looking at you with that same unreadable expression. Yet his gaze still managing to make you feel small as fluttering began to stir in your stomach. “No no, that’s not what I’m saying, it’s just I’ve never..” you sighed in embarrassment, “I’m not one who gets asked out a lot. Especially not by two guys at once.” You rambled with an anxious laugh.

“Well nothing is set in stone yet, if you’re not comfortable with all of this we’ll understand. It’d be a shame though since you’re such a cutie.” Kiri explained, his voice easing your nerves and still making the situation you were in all the more nerve wracking. You smiled softly at the two, “I know, it’s just an adjustment is all…yknow, I would love to join you both for dinner. I do have to get home and tend to my bunny though.”

Katsuki scoffed playfully, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "A bunny? Don’t they die hella easy?" Eijirou chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's probably adorable, just like its owner." He winked, causing a heat to creep up your neck. You giggled nervously, pulling out your phone. "His name is thumper, little rascal but I love him. You said fondly, the sweetness in your words reaching both the men infront of you. Causing a glance to be shared between the both of them. “Actually I have a picture..." You scrolled through your photos, finally landing on a picture of a fluffy creature with long bunny ears. Both men leaned in, intrigued.

The smell of cologne and slight smoke filled your nose, causing your heart to race as you tried your best to not lose it infront them. Ejirous eyes flickering to your glossed brown lips momentarily with a flash of desire before looking back down at the bunny on your phone. "He looks like a damn turd," Katsuki muttered, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. You gasped in slight offense, “Thumper is not a turd blondie, he’s a stinker at best. A sweetheart all round.” Eijirou laughed heartily at your defense of Thumper, his infectious energy easing the tension building in the air. “You’ve got to admit, it’s a fitting nickname. He looks ready to cause a little trouble,” he teased, nudging Katsuki lightly, who wore an expression caught between mock seriousness and playful mischief. You couldn’t help but blush at how readily they engaged with your little world, their closeness giving you a sense of belonging you hadn’t expected when you’d first walked into this overwhelming situation.

Kiri leaned forward, his curiosity piqued as he asked, “What kind of trouble does Thumper get into? I can totally envision him planning an escape mission from his cage.” You then seeming found yourself animatedly rambling tales of Thumper’s little escapades—how he once managed to dig his way under the couch and steal a sock, or the time he chewed on the corner of the carpet while you weren’t looking. The laughter that erupted was genuine, and you felt a rush of warmth flood over you, slowly dissipating the earlier nerves.

Suddenly, Katsuki’s teasing demeanor softened as he watched you speak, the way your eyes sparkled with passion mesmerizing him. “Honestly I couldn’t picture my life without him and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” A thrill of excitement mixing with the realization that you might soon be sharing more than just an evening with these intriguing guys. Anxiety from moments before slowly dissipating, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling.

<3

"So, about dinner..."

"How about tomorrow night?" Eijirou suggested, glancing at Katsuki for confirmation. Katsuki nodded, tossing the keys to the shop to ejirou after locking up. His gaze now fixed on you as you look up from your phone. "Seven o'clock. We'll pick you up, and I’m cooking.” His tone was assertive, yet there was an underlying gentleness that you found surprisingly reassuring. You agreed, a sense of anticipation bubbling in your chest. This was definitely uncharted territory, but for some reason, you felt a strange sense of excitement about it. After taking a few pictures of your new tattoo you thanked katsuki and kiri again for their time and the 25 dollars off your service for reasons of “your appointment not taking too long”

You beamed happily as you all agreed for you to come over to dinner the following night, the anticipation bubbling inside you like a fizzy drink ready to overflow. The cool night air nipped gently at your skin, but it was a mere distraction compared to the warmth radiating from the two of them walking with you on either side. Their presence wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, heightening the fluttering sensation in your heart and the twist of excitement in your stomach. "Thumper's prolly shittin' all over your place right now 'cause yer taking too damn long," Katsuki quipped, breaking through your revelry with his signature blend of humor and mischief. You glanced at him, unable to suppress your laughter as you flipped him off playfully, feeling a delightful spark igniting between you.

"Really? You want me to go that badly that you're dragging Thumper into this?" you teased back, shooting him a mock-serious glare as you fished your keys out of your pocket. The mention of your mischievous little rabbit brought back fond memories, but you couldn't help but feel the warmth of friendship—and perhaps something more—blossoming amid the playful banter. Ignoring the chilly breeze, you found comfort in the casual ease of the moment, the laughter echoing softly in the night while the thrill of what was to come wrapped around you like the stars above. Each step toward your car was a stride toward an evening filled with warmth, excitement, and a sense of belonging that made your heart race just a little faster. “Look at you two gettin along, don’t forget about me cutie.” The redheads voice suddenly in your right ear making you nearly drop your keys as you unlocked your car. “Never! I look forward to hanging out with you both tomorrow night. However I’d be very disappointed if I got food poisoning from katsuki here.”

Katsuki sucked his teeth in retort. “Food poisoning? You should count yerself lucky you have an opportunity to taste my dishes, tiny” His smirk was infuriatingly charming, and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you slid into the driver’s seat. The way the moonlight caught his messy blonde hair made him look almost ethereal, a stark contrast to his tough exterior. Kiri’s flirty smile as he teased katsukis boldness was also ridiculously attractive. Ejirou’s strong and broad shoulders paired with a few healed scars on his forearms made you wonder what he’d look like without that black fitted tee on. Being around these two would definitely be an adjustment for your poor heart.

As you locked your car doors and rolled down the window to continue the banter, you could see the spark of mischief in his crimson eyes. “Please, you could burn water if you’re drunk enough, remember that time I-” “Shut up dumbass.” Seeing the tips of katsukis ears go pink made you giggle. Focusing back to you ejirou shot you that handsome smile once more, “take care okay cutie, we look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Right Kats?” Ejirous relentless teasing with katsuki was almost adorable the way he could shut up the fiesty blonde with just a nickname was honestly admirable. “Tch, ignore spiky’s dumbass and.. don’t take too long tiny.”

You waved goodbye to the two men, feeling an undeniable thrill buzzing through your veins as you watched the two of them retreat into the night. The laughter shared among you lingered in the air, wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. Driving away, thoughts of tomorrow’s dinner filled your mind. You could almost envision Katsuki’s culinary chaos, interspersed with Kiri’s soft laughter and teasing jabs. The anticipation heightened with each passing moment, and your heart fluttered at the thought of the night ahead—a night where friendship might evolve into something deeper, something intoxicating.

As you pulled into your driveway, your mind drifted back to moments shared with the two of them—their playful banter, the camaraderie that felt different from any connection you had experienced before. The way Katsuki challenged you, his sharp tongue often softened by the kindness in his gaze. And Kiri, ever the gentle spirit, whose presence felt like a warm glow beside the fire. It was all too easy to imagine the three of you laughing together, the kind of laughter that echoed in your chest long after it ended. You could almost see the way their eyes would light up at something ridiculous, those shared glances brimming with understanding and ease.

Setting foot inside your home, a sense of longing washed over you, intertwining with thoughts of the warmth that awaited you the following night. You sighed, a small smile creeping onto your face as you thought of Thumper, who would no doubt be causing delightful havoc. “Don’t destroy everything, okay?” you whispered to the air, half-expecting the mischievous bunny to hear You couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. Whatever nightmares the poor rabbit had in store for you, they paled in comparison to the excitement brewing in your heart.

As you settled into bed, the moonlight seeping through your window painted a gentle glow across your room. You couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow night would somehow change everything. It was a moment of significant potential—a space where laughter could lead to new feelings and connections. The thought ignited a spark of hope, an exhilaration that sent shivers down your spine. Tomorrow was not just another dinner; it was an invitation, a promise of something wonderful waiting to unfold.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Okay Cal I’ve taken some time and calmed down and now I’m so very normal about this news. Nico’s back well isn’t that nice. I feel so very casual about that. Just :) so :) normal :)

First theme this round is non-human Buddie!

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲 (IM OBSESSED WITH THIS ONE!!!! Really loving Buck’s hearing loss story and can’t wait to see where you take it! And I’ve got Thoughts™️ about how it might play into the Diaz family magic… It seems like you’re doing the publish once it’s all written thing again - how many chapters are you planning on having?)

🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️(IM INTRIGUED!! And lol this emoji has bracelets on the arm that totally reminded me of Buck’s line arm tattoo so it’s meant to be! There’s so many interesting directions I feel like this one could go and I’m very excited to watch it play out!)

-PCA <3

HI PCA! So happy you're so excited for Nico.

In the meantime, the creature fics!

96 for 🌲 (THANK YOU!!!!! That makes me so happy. I'm really pumped for this one. I want to hear your thoughts! Yes, publishing this once it's all done. I have a ten chapter outline!)

---

It’s not for very long. Buck said the appointment shouldn’t take more than an hour, plus driving. No biggie. Eddie can handle that. He’s an adult. 

He tells himself the fear is that when he’s alone, something will happen. He’ll cover his house in more leaves and turn more and more into an animal until he loses his human mind. His back will become completely hollow like in all his nightmares. He thinks his fears are rooted in pragmatism. But when Buck is actually gone, the truth of it becomes clear. 

It’s painful. 

Buck being gone is actually physically painful for Eddie. He doesn’t know why. He gets this ache all over his body. This gripping sense of panic and nausea combined. He can hardly function. He needs Buck to be back. He needs to not be alone. His brain sort of abandons reason and starts spiraling to some dark place where he’s forever shut out from any sort of human interaction forever. Where he is utterly isolated. 

He doesn’t just think of Buck. He thinks of Christopher, hating him. His team at work, thinking he abandoned them. Adriana, missing without a trace. Shannon, dead. He starts to shake. It feels like some sort of withdrawal; or at least what he imagines that would feel like. He needs some sort of company. Anyone. Anything. Most of all, he needs Buck to come home. 

There’s a knock on the door around the time Eddie is expecting Buck to get back. If Eddie was in his right mind, he would know it’s not Buck. He would know the door is unlocked, and Buck can walk in. He would know that Buck has keys, regardless. 

Throwing aside any sort of precaution or rational thought, Eddie hurries to open the door. He doesn’t have much in the way of a disguise to conceal himself. He’s still wearing Buck’s sweatpants. Nothing for his face. He doesn’t even think about it. What he must look like to someone who isn’t expecting to see it. 

He’s surprised to see that it’s Tommy at the door. Arms crossed, angry impatient look on his face. Tommy, Buck’s boyfriend. He’s probably here for Buck. But he’s Eddie’s friend, too. Maybe he can keep Eddie company until Buck gets back. 

Not single thought of his own protection in his head, Eddie throws open the door. 

“Hey, Tommy,” he says. “What’s up, man?”

Tommy looks furious and confused. He looks Eddie over, eyes scrunching with confusion. 

“Where’s Evan?” He demands. He blinks a few times. Rubs one of his ears. “I know he’s with you and… And I…”

“Buck isn’t here right now. Should be soon. Do you want to come inside?”

“Do I…” Tommy’s eyes sort of glaze over. It’s like watching drugs settle in. The anger all but evaporates from his face. “Yeah, Eddie. Of course I want to come in.”

Eddie is pleased. That’s good. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He can already feel the pain in his body beginning to subside. 

“Come on, man. I’ll get you a beer,” Eddie says. No matter that it’s eleven in the morning. 

“I’d love that,” Tommy says. 

He leads Tommy inside towards the kitchen. He grabs two beers from the fridge. He doesn’t think about the tail creating a strange bulge in the back of his pants. He doesn’t think of the fact that he’s wearing Tommy’s boyfriend’s pants. He doesn’t think of anything and Tommy’s not reacting to anything. It all must be fine. 

When he turns around to hand Tommy the beer, Tommy takes a step towards him, leaving very little room between him and the fridge. Eddie feels a bit cornered. 

“Uh, hi?” Eddie asks. He tries to give Tommy the beer but Tommy doesn’t take it. Won’t even look at it. 

“Eddie, I think we should talk,” Tommy says.

Eddie gets a bad feeling. 

“Okay… Uh, sure. About what?”

“Us,” Tommy says. 

Eddie coughs a little. “Us?”

“You and me,” Tommy says. 

“What you and me?” Eddie asks.

Tommy smirks a little. “What we could be to each other.”

Eddie blinks. “Uh… Friends? Friends with someone very important  in common?”

Eddie might be feeling a little out of it lately, but he’s not insane. 

“Oh, come on, Eddie,” Tommy says. “You had to know there was something between us. If you hadn’t been seeing that woman. What was her name?”

“Marisol?” He asks. Or Kim? Both? Jesus, he’s a mess.

---

66 for 🧜‍♂️ (YAY! Thank you! I am excited to reveal my - and Annie's - plans):

---

He knows that it changes you. In lots of strange ways, some small and some large. 

“I’d had an accident not too long before that,” Chimney says. “Nearly died, myself. But… I don’t know. It’s different for Buck. Especially about Bobby. I think he’s just jealous you’re the new, shiny person on the team.”

Eddie is hardly new and shiny. Buck just doesn’t know that.

Eddie nods. “I’ll… Well, I’ll try I guess. To get on his good side or whatever.”

“I don’t think he has a bad side,” Hen says. “Just be patient. He’ll come around.” 

Eddie holds onto this promise. Hopes that it’s true. And really, really hopes his suspicions aren’t correct. 

🌻

Things get worse. 

There’s some downtime in the shift. Eddie decides to hit the station gym. Unfortunately, Buck is already there with Chimney. He considers turning around and walking away, not wanting to deal with the guy more than he needs to. But he doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He doesn’t want to be scared off in his own workplace. Not again. 

So Eddie starts on the other side of the equipment from Buck. The punching bag. He gets a conversation started up with Chimney. They talk about the firefighter calendar, which Chimney wants a spot in. Something Buck doesn’t seem thrilled about. It’s clear Buck wants to win, from all the absurd selfies he’s been snapping. 

“Are you gonna submit photos, Eddie?” Chim asks. “Be honest, you’ve probably got washboard abs under that shirt. You submit one of those classic shirtless suspenders photos and you’re a shoe in.”

Ha. No. Abs? Sure. A shirtless photo? No way. 

Across the gym, Buck makes a frustrated noise. Mutters something under his breath. Eddie doesn’t hear it, but he gets the tone. And all he can hear is the sound of someone suggesting he isn’t man enough for the competition. Whether or not it’s what Buck says, it’s what Eddie takes in. 

So he sort of snaps. 

“What’s your problem, man?” He demands, marching over to Buck at the weights. 

Buck looks up at him. He seems surprised to have been confronted. Surprised, but not unwilling to rise to the bait. He stands up, gets close to Eddie, peacocking his considerable height. He’s not that much taller than Eddie, but it sure feels like it, in this moment. 

“Okay. You.” Buck says, voice low and tight. “You’re my problem. Your comfort level.”

Eddie’s comfort level? Is he serious? He’s been doing everything he can to make Eddie uncomfortable. Is Eddie, what? Supposed to know his place? Stay silent and in the background because he’s different? How does Buck even know that he’s different? 

“You’re-you’re not supposed to walk in here like you’ve been here for years,” Buck keeps going. “It’s meant to be a getting-to-know-you period. You’re meant to respect your elders.”

“You’re not his elder, Buck,” Chimney interjects. 

“I don’t know how old you are,” Eddie replies. “But I’m not a probie. I’ve been a firefighter-paramedic for six years. But if you have some sort of prejudice that makes you think I’m not fit for the job-”

“Wait, what?” Buck interrupts. “Prejudice?”

[postmanlee514]

Okay I’v been thinking about some post-game Rookanis thing since I finished my first playthrough

Spoiler ahead alert!

So here’s my hc: since my Rook is a Shadow Dragon,they will join the rebuilding of Mintharous and Lucanis needs to take the duty of The First Talon. The couple may have a long time couldn’t be able to make time for each other.

And finally the two get their time to discuss their own business such as:

1) Where to live, they can’t be separated in two city forever. Rook probably will be the one to compromise? They do enjoy the city and I think maybe Teia will invite them even before Lucanis asks LOL

2) my Rook is a Necromancer, It’s time to talk about necromancy with Lucanis 😆 I knew Emmerich tried but Hey! This is Rook speaking! Maybe Lucanis will try to understand necromancy?

3) Keeping pets. Lucanis already has a pet snake but how about Rook? Growing up in a military family, maybe they moved around a lot. This time they finally settle down, so keep pets is a good way to provide a sense of stability. But I also think Spite may disagree Lucanis and Rook’ decision Hahaha

4) About wounds healing . My Rook was a foundling and lost their parents years ago,then was Varric who was their nearly-father for like half a year, then was Harding-their longest-standing companion. They can’t be not having trauma in losing someone and be really fear to be abandone. So after all they’ve been through, maybe this is the chance Lucanis will be there for them for a mind therapy ? I would love to see them curing each other. <3

Followed are some of my gripes(No need to read!)

I literally cried for like 2 hours when I saw what Rook experienced when they trapped in Fade.Varric is always my favorite since DA 2, and damn! Varric’s words really help me to continue the game after the Mintharous or Treviso Choice. Shadow Dragons and Neve blamed all of this to Rook (and I was like “Rook is only one person without army and forces how could they be able to save the city? And Minrathous did have far more forces than Treviso has”)and they’ve already messed up the ritual. The self-doubt was about to overwhelm them, but they had to pretend to be optimistic and help everyone in the team dealing their problems.

My Rook has never considered themselves as a leader, they just stood out and begun to take the duty of finishing the job and they tried their best to take care of everyone. In the game,Varric was the only one asked Rook how long has it been since they’ve slept while they’re worrying others’ sleeping.

And the absence of companion banter, didn’t got their option when companion talking about a mage thing,etc…really made me feel unwanted . I hope maybe someday bioware could add some rook’s reaction to companion banter🥲

I mean, at least they should have comments on Romanced Lucanis told Taash how to kill mages and that’s like dancing or seduction …

“I’m right here hearing! Lucanis! ”

English is not my first language so please forgive me if I say something weird 🥲

about my Rook:

[karaspal]

i lied. put your clothes back on. we’re going to talk about how if dc didn’t kill off kara back in the 80s and made it a point to keep her dead for 18 years because of their misogyny, she would’ve been one of dc’s most prominent characters (like dick grayson is right now) with a 100+ issues run during the 90’s, a great supporting cast and a variety of villains. instead, for the last 20 years, she’s been deaged to a teen three times, each time more detrimental than the last. she’s in the best position she’s been ever since she came back because now she’s an adult again, yet dc keeps giving her stories to be written by people who don’t understand her.

[wickmitz]

How do you think about Frepper? I'm neutral about this ship, but the fans Frepper attitude towards confuses me, Ivy and Freckle have only been dating for a week and know each other superficially, but everyone already thinks that by the end of the comic they will get married, I think differently, I think that in the end they will break up with each other because they are too different personalities, I literally can't imagine that both of them will be happy with each other in marriage, Ivy is assertive and active, on the other hand Freckle is passive and just agrees with Ivy, this is not a guarantee of a healthy relationship where a partner completely dominates the other, plus to all that, I will not forget how their relationship started, Ivy just decided that they were dating, and without asking Freckle's permission, she just KISSED him, again without his permission, Frepper fans think that it's cute, but when I saw it, I thought "what the hell did I just see?", in general, it's strange for me that Frepper fans are okay with such things, of course later Freckle shows attraction to Ivy, showing that he likes her in some way too, but I still won't forget how their relationship started and how Freckle used to try to escape from Ivy when she squeezed his hand tightly and forced him to her …

I'm not against Frepper, but I don't understand his fans who don't see these issues and who treat other points of view on their relationship (like mine) as … um, as nonconformity? Fans from reddit are just obsessed with Frepper, I don't know about other networks but that's how it is on reddit, I think there are people who have my opinion but are afraid to say it because of fans, of course, I met Frepper fans there who normally accept such an opinion, but still there is a feeling that such a opinion cannot be told

Simply put, Ivy and Freckle are a couple that will eventually break up with each other unless there's an event between them in the comic that changes my opinion of this couple, but that's how I feel about Freckle for now. I didn't plan to express my opinion, but it happened that way, I hope you don't mind it

first and foremost, i don’t mind seeing someone express their opinion in my inbox! you and anyone else are free to do so, even if i may disagree. this blog’s entire existence was made for me to share my opinions ( and love! ) for lackadaisy, as well as engaging with other fans, because what else is the point of a fandom blog? and as far as i’m aware, this is unpopular opinion central! most of my thoughts aren’t exactly the ones with the most voice behind them i’ve found, so i welcome all manner of different views. every fan is entitled to their own perspectives and opinions, and should be allowed to share them as they please! but with that disclaimer out of the way, i’m more than willing to discuss frepper in its entirety.

for me, there’s little confusion i carry where it concerns this ship’s popularity amongst the fandom. freckle and ivy, if we are to strip them down to their bare essentials, are a rather stereotypically ‘cute’ relationship : people enjoy opposites ( see zibwick or vikdecai for example ) and there’s an endearing quality found in puppy love dynamics. seeing ivy wear the pants and drag a shy freckle around by his ankle makes for quality content in a way! think the ‘excuse me, but he asked for no pickles!’ meme … ivy and freckle very much fit that sort of mold, and it helps that most fans are too scared to ship them with other characters in the cast too, due to what they perceive to be a lack of options. thus, frepper is an extremely ‘safe’ ship! you cannot get in trouble for enjoying something that is not only canon, but is relatively adorable ; and so i don’t believe a lot of the fans are actually thinking too deeply about the likely endgame of it all. most don’t! it’s fun to ship, and that’s all they really need i think. it’s also very easy to dismiss ivy’s forwardness as a quirk of being a young girl who’s of her temperament, recklessly boycrazy although still carrying sweet intent. this behavior is easier to hand wave when neither ivy or freckle are experienced at the dating scene as well … freckle due to his extremely religious upbringing and hermit nature, and ivy because of viktor’s constant meddling, which would hold her back more than you’d think. with that said, i don’t think any of this is excessively complicated. some shippers are rather simple minded and do not care for details and characterization all too deeply. enjoying dynamics is, at its core, supposed to be fun -- which makes simple ships like frepper prime targets for a very vocal and tight knit fanbase. there are other things i could speculate about why these two may hit so pleasantly for others, like how there’s an underlying queer theme to it ( what with ivy being the pursuer and freckle the shy, blushing flower ) or that it’s tropey enough to hit the right spots for others … though it all boils back to mere speculation. perhaps they still have time to escape this gangster lifestyle and live happily ever after? and that appeals to the lackadaisy fans who still want some sort of happy ending? it’s all a combination of frepper being easy, i think, and containing two young cats who still haven’t done anything particularly ‘unforgivable’ yet action wise. this is a ship you can root for without an ounce of worry in your heart, and so on and so forth.

but although i understand why others are so vocal about them, i don’t exactly agree with fanon’s views either! while i heavily enjoy frepper, i enjoy them as they are, and that includes their looming flaws and inevitable tragedy. they are bound to break each other’s hearts a lot on their current path ; even if they were entirely perfect for one another, this lifestyle isn’t kind to anyone, meaning if they don’t separate, they could always be forced apart via bullets and such anyway. they are young and woefully inexperienced in a manner of things, the last thing they need is the stress of a rumrunner life driving their every action, you know? i know people see them getting out together, and that is likely on the table! i do see that in many ways, but i’m also of the opinion that ivy and freckle will diverge onto different paths at some point and temporarily call it quits. from where the comic currently stands and given my view on ivy’s arc, i see her growing disillusioned with where she is and the honor and fun she saw within it as a royal spectator will fade ; she will become wary, fearful, and her resilience will die … meanwhile freckle will embrace it, similar to his cousin, fully understanding what it is and what he’s getting into ( like rocky, again ) but being unable to leave his refuge. i know lots of people think freckle will leave the lackadaisy first, but given his old concepts and former title as one of mitzi’s ‘trouble boys’, i think he will become lost in the sauce for a myriad of reasons. frankly i enjoy that twist on their relationship! since i believe ivy’s character development will revolve around maturing, changing as time stretches forward, because her character is ever growing, what with her entire schtick being the fact she’s everything a 1920s girl was during those times. she embodies that unladylike youth and manipulative sweetness, so i’d imagine a lot of her path is falling from such naive thrill seeking and stumbling upon a harsh reality. she will mature, and the very thing that should make their relationship stronger will be what divides them indefinitely. everything they have is founded on this bloody, varnished soaked ground after all … they are young adults who are experiencing what closeness feels like outside of family or platonic friends for the first time, so naturally they will overindulge in their own amateur games ; find respite in the boogie and kiss like couples do on the silver screen, laugh about it, talk about everything and nothing at all … relish in each other’s warmth and stupidly loyal protection. i’m sure frepper will grow closer before any falling out, because as it stands, it’s one of the few things they have in such a scary situation that feels comforting and kind. they will impact each other in the fundamental ways first relationships do and, to move towards your biggest gripe, do things they’ll regret or allow things to happen to them that they’re not entirely okay with.

ivy is very forceful with freckle initially, albeit in her typical saturated way ; and i can see why that would be hard to parse! especially when freckle spends a majority of their first scenes together squirming away and hiding, trying to duck her affections and bolt for it. there is a lot of boundary crossing between them! but not in a necessarily malicious way … like most things with frepper, this circles back to their mutual inexperience and how, in a lot of ways, this is their first ‘serious’ romantic relationship ever. and it’s rather common for such firsts to involve gray areas, since neither party is entirely sure of what their own boundaries are just yet! while freckle did appear frightened by ivy at first, it’s important to note that tracy’s mentioned him having a flight response whenever girls flirt with him … he is prone to run away instinctively, which if you consider his extremely religious upbringing, isn’t exactly a surprise. nina would no doubt look down upon freckle engaging with girls his age due to what most girls his age are currently doing in the roaring 20s they’re living in. sneaking out and engaging in illegal activities, dancing in a way that would disgust most of the more traditional and older generation, casually engaging in any manner of sexual activity before marriage, etc etc. and this isn’t even listing freckle’s cagey nature due to an incident we know was bad enough to send rocky packing for years, and fundamentally changed freckle himself at such a young and impressionable age. he is … very troubled! and rather scared of himself and the world around him … at this stage in life, freckle is perpetually unable to make any progress towards anything he may want, and so i have little problem myself with ivy mostly taking the lead. when left to his own devices and allowed to choose outside of influence, freckle did in fact sneak out of his mother’s house to go to the lackadaisy, surely well aware that ivy’s intention had been romantically inclined. so, to me, he has always liked her ; perhaps found her cute, in a shallow way, saw her eccentric behavior as endearing and frightening in equal measure, and while he’s still wading into this whirlwind pool unsteady and shaken, he -- wouldn’t mind it if ivy pushed a little more, or moved him around to her ( and what she perceives to be, their ) liking. perhaps this dynamic is familiar enough to him that it becomes comforting, since rocky was very much the same way in their adolescence. tugging freckle around and pulling his tail for whatever rocky wanted them to do, with little care for whatever his baby cousin desired at the time, ignoring his protests and chasing him ; nobody’s at fault here either, kids are extremely self absorbed and this is a flaw they’ll usually mature past, and while ivy and freckle are adults during the comic, i don’t think ivy’s outgrown this linear view on things just yet. she is extremely entitled! she is used to being the apple of everyone’s eye at the speakeasy due to her jazz baby status as atlas may’s goddaughter, and this gangster connection excites and awes the ladies she attends classes with at her university too. ivy pepper is used to getting her way and this has only fueled her determined attitude, her ‘pull it up by the bootstraps’ mindset, and in many ways, this is something of a flaw for her. it’s not bad to be confident and headstrong, although when you add that into a dangerous mix of rumrunning and gunslinging, it may become a problem rather quickly. but i digress! point is, ivy and freckle are hardly at fault for the awkward way they handled the start of their relationship, when it’s so new and fresh to them both.

neither of them have boundaries at this moment, as they either have no clue what those are or simply haven’t realized they should set them. so, in turn, there are things that the other may do that could cause their partner discomfort … and it’s mostly done out of obliviousness and good intentions and your classic dose of intense affection. doesn’t mean it isn’t messed up to a degree, but i think it’s rather realistic, and is a hard truth that comes with many first relationships of that sort. sometimes you don’t know how to say ‘no,’ or you agree and regret agreeing later, or perhaps you simply don’t understand there’s certain things you aren’t ready for or genuinely just don’t like. again, it’s a very muddied area, and the two of them are vaguely navigating what is mostly foreign to them. they’re bound to mess up! so i ivy some slack here, and applaud tracy on the realistic writing more than anything usually. young love also happens to be a great device to use for inexperienced characters finding themselves, through the good and bad of their relationship, and frepper is all about that. maybe freckle will inevitably bring up how he feels like he would’ve preferred it had ivy asked him out properly, or gave him time to court her in a traditional fashion … and she will be surprised ( and a little wounded ) by this, since she had never considered it before … too used to her way of things to realize there’s another path they could take. i think this aspect of the relationship is important, and i can understand wishing that more frepper shippers would view it as such, or comment on it's morally gray nature without just calling it ‘cute’ and leaving it at that.

tldr : they will most certainly break up at some point, maybe even multiple times! tracy has said before that they both have some serious maturing to do if their relationship is to be long lasting, and i doubt that maturing will happen to them both at once … since they have different things to work on emotionally. but they will probably strongarm some major personal development within each other, as well as love one another with a fierceless abandon that most kids do. i could see them getting married, i could see them not, but i agree that if they were to be wed happily, they’d have significant hurdles to overcome. but personally, frepper is something i adore mostly due to the impact they’re bound to cause each other, and even if they are to separate and find someone new and more fitting, they’ll always remember one another -- perhaps fondly, and sadly, and with some anger. a time they’d like to forget, but a person they’d like to remember … which is my cup of tea overall! they much more interest me as they presently are anyway, where i can fiddle around with their budding romance and friendship bonding. and as lackadaisy grows in popularity, i do hope there’s more frepper fans who see their complexity and flaws and explore them with all of it in mind.

anyway! i hope this was coherent, and that it was obvious that i agreed with you for the most part. i haven’t really talked about frepper before with anyone so many of these thoughts sort of burst out of me! and i feel like i have more to elaborate upon, but for the sake of simplicity i kept this short. oh well! surely this is enjoyable and informative regardless.

[hanzajesthanza]

dandelion is indeed the worst but if he’s not present in the next book i would legitimately be sorrowful as the whole thing will become a slog . you basically cannot have the “short stories” era-of-the-timeline iteration of geralt without dandelion, it would be like eating unbuttered bread.

though it’s not like season of storms did them dirty, i wasn’t disappointed with it (… with regards to them), but since it’s literally been over 20 years since the saga was finished i’m trying to prepare for any potential reality

[hana-bobo-finch]

OKAY!!! GUESS WHO SPENT THE WHOLE DAY WRITING THIS OUT. THATS RIGHT, IT’S PUMPKIN DADDY TIME. this is gonna be a (VERY!!!) long one so be warned

So. Finch. Pumpkin daddy. Whatever ya wanna call him, he’s a complete maniac!!! (I WILL BE REFERRING TO HIM AS PUMPKIN DADDY THROUGHOUT THIS BUT PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU, JUST CALL HIM FINCH. YOU DONT HAVE TO GO AROUND SAYING PUMPKIN DADDY UNLESS YOU REALLY WANT TO) Yippee !!! There’s no easy way to begin explaining this fool but it is what the people want so ok.

As the name of pumpkin daddy’s book club implies, he’s essentially the main character meaning there’s the most to go over with him. I’ll try to remember everything but I’ll probably forget some stuff, but what I do forget will probably be pretty unimportant so it doesn’t really matter if I don’t go over every single detail. Also I’ll be retreading some things I’ve already went over so skip over those if you’re a seasoned pumpkin daddy expert. Also might be a bit messy because I’m really just piecing together random parts, I’ve never actually made a full timeline. WHATEVER pumpkin daddy rant begins now

Brief timeline summary before I get into the miscellaneous side details.

FIRST OF ALL. as a young lad he was chillin in a pumpkin patch for some reason and OH GOOD HEAVENS he got attacked by some pumpkin-patch-dwelling-feline-like-creature. With the power of plot armor he was preeeetty much fine, somehow, but the creature (still don’t know what it is uhh I’ll think of it someday) had remnants of gourd on it and thusly poor little soon to be pumpkin daddy got an infection that made it so he could turn his head into a pumpkin (and part of his upper body I guess) and thus, the monster known as Pumpkin Daddy was born.

Sometime after this his parents just kinda checked out of existence. That makes it sounds like they’re dead, they’re not. I briefly touched upon this phenomenon in a previous post and I don’t expect you to dig back to find it but essentially, TBYTF (fairy thingy) can make people go into catatonic states where they’re basically stuck inside their own head so. That is what happened to them. Functionally dead but eh they got a heartbeat I guess. It’s called a catatonic illusion, keep this in mind for later. Point being, they were outta the picture. Ya’d think that’d traumatize ol’ pumpkin daddy but he legitimately could not give less of a fuck about any of that. is he repressing his emotions is he denying it? NO he just does not care for whatever reason and is Very confused why people think it should’ve messed him up. Anyhoo he still needed SOME sort of legal guardian so he went to DINO MA’AM!!!

yeaaahh that’s right his grandmother is a literal dinosaur!!! I do NOT know the logistics of it but she is a dinosaur of unspecified species and you’re just gonna have to accept that. She’s called Dino ma’am. Not much is known about her as she’s not really that important, except that she used to be roommates with Turtlemeister and she loves making people dinner. No other meals, just dinner. She will get very sad if people don’t show up for dinner. Unfortunately for her, pumpkin daddy rarely shows up for her dinners because he doesn’t really like/care about her all too much. The two have like. No real bond. Dino Ma’am also (potentially) has an evil twin named Dino Maim who killed Dino ma’am and sent the polaroids of her corpse to pumpkin daddy but…..I do not know the validity of that plot point because I made it up as a joke because I wrote “maim” instead of “ma’am” once. So who knows if that’s actually true to the plot. Doesn’t really matter.

I hate writing backstories in childhood because I hate writing about children. Thusly he hasn’t much backstory in earlier years. All I really have before the actual story starts is all of that stuff and also he would break into spillways to go swimming. “Isn’t that Extremely Fucking Dangerous” YES!!! truly by some miracle he never drowned and instead he developed great swimming skills after doing this for years and years. He also encountered the legendary Ginji Way, the warden of the spillway, a wannabe cowboy who rode around on his horse Jerry patrolling the area. You’d think Ginji would kick him out and you’d be wrong! Ginji is there illegally too, he has no permission to be there either. He just does it for fun. Not much came of their interactions though except that pumpkin daddy developed an intense hatred for Jerry the horse. He may have kidnapped Jerry and given him laser eyes but I do Not know yet.

Aaaanyway the main timeline begins now okey dokey. At the ripe old age of 17 he formed a group dedicated to studying TBYTF. It was a very small group, only consisting of him and two others, Bingo and Mole (They’re important but not to this). In a desperate attempt to get any sort of information on TBYTF he told his co-workers at the crappy drink joint he worked at to give anyone who mentioned TBYTF his contact information. Somehow this worked and he managed to recruit Gourdie!!! woaaaghhh his wife BUT ALAS their initial meeting was not love at first sight. Gourdie didn’t think the whole pumpkin head thing was as cool as he did. Woe. Also she accidentally made him cry by mentioning King Arthur (will get to that later on). Nonetheless Gourdie agreed to join his group and they pretty quickly fell in love (EEEEEWWWW). Also during this time he somehow managed to become a fucking Olympic swimmer?? We can only assume the swimming competitions in this universe are sorely lacking in any true talent. Either way it certainly made Gourdie impressed with him.

Anyhoo, being the unfortunate combination of brash, obsessed with doing things as soon as possible, and slightly stupid, the pair decided to get married when they were both only like 20. Awesome idea, I’m sure this will end well for them!!! Buuuut for the time being they were happy together and continued their studies of TBYTF.

Sometime after their marriage (which went horribly may I add, long story there. Their vows were sabotaged. By uh. O’chunks from super paper mario. I will have to change that eventually but for now I’m keeping him as a placeholder because I think it’s funny) our old pal pumpkin daddy got into some trouble! Eeeeeyikes! He was a pro wrestler but WHOOPS his friend tried to kill him during a match!!! Uh oh!!! To be fair he miiiiight have been demonically influenced at the time but still!!! Not cool man!!! Pumpkin daddy’s plot armor finally failed him and he was hurt pretty damn bad! He survived of course but his back ended up being, in simple terms, all screwed up, among other things. So that pretty much put an immediate stop to his prior careers, considering it’s rather hard to swim when you are constantly going “eeeyyyoowwch my back :(“

But moving on!!! Alas, as if he did not have it bad enough already, the doctor with him was my beloved bellona (I have yapped about her before, don’t remember where or when but I have before). They felt nothing but pure contempt towards one another!! They essentially tried to make each other’s lives hell in an eternal loop of revenge. Ironically it was through this unending revenge cycle that they ended up being able to tolerate each other’s existence (though they definitely weren’t friends. In fact they never did really each that level of toleration). This eventually blossomed into, as I said, not exactly a friendship, but more of some mutual respect and backwards enjoyment of each other’s company, in a “I hate you so fucking much it fascinates me and I want to hang out with you” kind of way.

Skipping over a lot from that time for the sake of keeping this at least somewhat brief—crabs. Crabs are a protected species in this universe and thusly eating them is strictly prohibited. But pumpkin daddy wanted crabs. He NEEDED crabs. And so he discovered a black market crab restaurant atop a mountain which, coincidentally, was in the same mountain range where his group was studying TBYTF—in fact the restaurant was on the point nearest to where TBYTF resides. This restaurant was surprisingly very fancy, like marble floors, chandeliers, grand pianos, this place was ELITE for being an illegal crab restaurant. Pumpkin daddy would of course go here often, generally every weekend. After a while and after growing a bit more tolerant of her, he agreed to show Bellona the place as she wanted to go there too (aka she followed him there despite his constant yelling to go away and stop following him and he’s going to call the police and blah blah blah. He eventually gave in and let her come with him but for the first few times she was, for all intents and purposes, just straight up stalking him). So they’d go there along with, occasionally, Gourdie, and they’d just hang out and study TBYTF I guess (there’s a lot more to it but again this is just a brief overview of things, if I were to get into the details we’d have to go over tridents and the song arabesque by friedrich burgmüller and astronomy and broken guitars and attempted murders and blah blah blah that’s all just not important).

The Briar Zome was also discovered during this time (again I have a post on that, one of the first PDBC posts I made I think) which led to the creation of the Alcoves, which are a series of pocket dimensions similar to the briar zome. Creation might not be the right word for it, he more so discovered how to reach the alcoves. Point is he made this huge discovery and what he did with it was simply make a pathway to the alcoves in his house and simply treated the alcoves like just another area. Could go into further detail but it’s not really important right now.

During this time pumpkin daddy truly earned the name pumpkin daddy, as he and Gourdie had a kid!!! Woah!!! awesome right? WRONG. turns out, to the horror of everyone involved, the whole pumpkin head thing is hereditary. whoops. Didn’t really affect too much at first, I mean despite the kids head being a literal gourd he was otherwise just an average human being. But pumpkin daddy gave him a terrible name! Extraordinarily!!! Shortened to Extra!!! What kind of name is that!!! Now that I think about it, it’s kind of stupid that it’s seen as an atrocious name in-universe when there are characters named stuff like mole and parasite. Ah well.

Things were fine for a bit until pumpkin daddy and Gourdie broke up. Mostly because pumpkin daddy was like “look, research shows that you should not create a fish child nor should you get involved with an extremely dangerous demonic entity” and Gourdie was like “screw you man I can do whatever I want.” As people they still loved each other but boy is it hard to stay together when your significant other worships a being that your studies have shown is Very Bad and she doesn’t believe you!!! Another issue was putters. yall remember putters? Putters was Gourdie’s dog. Pumpkin daddy absolutely despised putters. I won’t go too into putters because she really isn’t important but yeah. Putters would live in the floorboards and screw things up. She also had eyes that pumpkin daddy thought were incredibly frightening. I’m actually really pissed off because I wrote a poem about putters from pumpkin daddy’s perspective at a writing camp and at the end of the week they were SUPPOSED to send out the finished book containing all the work, but I haven’t gotten it yet. And it was supposed to come in early September and it’s almost November now. Screw you unnamed writing class I can’t say the name of without doxxing myself. So who knows if I’ll ever see it. Very unfortunate because even though the poem itself was kinda crappy I still loved it, and I don’t have a physical copy of it. I can only hold out hope someday I’ll see it again…anyway

The final straw was when pumpkin daddy decided to buy the island they lived on. She was incredibly pissed off by that and they split up. Did pumpkin daddy end up buying the island? YYYYUUUPPP. the former island owner was a total pushover and pumpkin daddy basically just waltzed in and demanded the island and the old owner was just like, yeah sure dude go wild. And thus he bought the island (when Gourdie found out about it she was INCREDIBLY pissed off and started a clan out of pure pettiness, but I’ve talked about all that before). And thus Fincg island was born. He made a typo while typing out the official name, whoops. Don’t ask me how fincg is even pronounced cause I dunno.

As Extra grew up, they became VERY resentful of pumpkin daddy. Pumpkin daddy was a legitimately good father but Extra had to deal with the fact that their head was a fucking gourd because of him and they were incredibly ashamed of that to say the least. Basically they hated pumpkin daddy for creating them because WHY WOULD YOU PROCREATE WHEN THERE WAS THE CHANCE YOUR CHILD WOULD BE A PUMPKIN. so extra went to live with Gourdie until they could move out entirely.

Around this time, pumpkin daddy developed the Patch. I got a post or two delving more into that if you want to waste more time reading through my nonsense, but yup he discovered how to create customized life forms and growing them like they’re trees or somethin. Why he did it in the first place? Excellent question!! I have no idea!! Probably for the same reason he bought an entire island, out of pure curiosity if he could. Alas he never considered if he should. That or it came from that fact that he always wanted to be able to asexually reproduce like fungi. Oh to be a mushroom, spreading spores everywhere….anyhoo, somehow for a first attempt he did a pretty good job at doing the seemingly impossible, and on October 31st whatever-year-it-was he harvested the first hybrid, whom he named Fina. He loved Fina SO MUCH. he made hundreds of hybrids over the years but Fina was always his obvious favorite, she was basically his new child now that extra absolutely hated him. But things did not stay well with Fina!!! She ended up falling in a vat of what is called TBYTF gel (again I’ve yapped abt this before but for a summary! It is the excretions of TBYTF, and being in it for too long causes one to permanently be in a state of semi-influence from tbytf. This is called being an “arm” as they’re essentially now a mini version of tbytf). Pumpkin daddy fell in as well because he’s an idiot and has a tendency to fall into large vats of liquid, but he got out before he sustained any permanent damage. He managed to get Fina out after a couple minutes and she was seemingly fine aside from slight hypothermia, but YIKES!!! SHE WAS NOT FINE nobody knew right away because there was no research into that type of thing at the time, but you guessed it, she was an arm of tbytf now!!! Unfortunately pumpkin daddy was completely oblivious to the fact and even when many years later it was brought up like “your child is probably going to kill someone” he was like like nooo not her!! she’s so awesome she wouldn’t do that, why would you even think of that :(

MOVING ON there were no major events for a bit, at least ones that would fit here in this brief timeline. Mostly just the beginning of traditions, conflicts starting to arise, etc etc etc. Clan tension was already brewing as one of the clan leaders sorta went off the deep end and fell in love with a sentient eyeball which resulted in her ripping out one of pumpkin daddy’s eyes. But he was fiiiiiine. Also around that time, he and Gourdie got back together!!! Briefly!!! For a while it was on and off but yeah he managed to convince her that he wasn’t completely incompetent. Good for him. Whilst they were back together, Bellona decided to move back home, meaning they’d proooobably never see each other again. Gourdie was heartbroken and pumpkin daddy was…somewhere in between sad and indifferent. Either way they all spent the next couple months hanging out together (simple way of saying they almost got arrested in paris). But yes she eventually moved back home and life continued on as normal, just without someone to constantly torment 😔

Again, nothing too major around this time, things mostly calmed down (at least for pumpkin daddy) and things became stagnant for a few years. On and off relationship with Gourdie, new hybrids being made each year, trying to prevent civil war from breaking out, being a complete menace to society, such things like that. He also might’ve kidnapped two people and ripped their eyes out but he apologized so it’s ok (NO IT’S NOT). Political unrest was brewing. Obviously, there was the unending tension between the clans—especially between he and the Ramsay clan, as they were constantly in controversy, and they were put in charge of his old TBYTF-studying group and they were running it straight into the ground—but there was an overall consensus towards pumpkin daddy that “yeah this guy is wack, he needs to go.” This sentiment was founded by one of his own hybrids, that being one named Mercury. Mercury was tampered with by Fina while he was being created. Fina turned mercury against pumpkin daddy, mostly by convincing him that pumpkin daddy was the one who screwed him up while he was being created (sort of harkens back to extra and the whole “father, why the fuck did you create me” kind of thing) and mercury went on to lead a campaign to get pumpkin daddy publicly executed. Put a bounty on him and riled up the people to capture him and hang him. People were slow to accept this but they soon agreed with mercury’s sentiment (especially those in rivaling clans) and there was a nationwide competition to find and hang pumpkin daddy. Mercury eventually realized that Fina was completely lying to him, and despite still being against pumpkin daddy he attempted to quell the mob. It was too late though, and soon many were after the fame and reverence that would come with being the one to capture this monster. They never did, of course, turns out he’s incredibly good at escaping, but the point remains that there was a huge amount of people actively trying to kill him.

He tried, and mostly failed, to patch things up to avoid complete war breaking out, but things were looking grim.

Firstly there was a consensus between the clans that yeah, the Ramsay clan needs to go, so they mutually decided to revoke its status as a clan, and bomb the headquarters for good measure. The Ramsay clan was NOT happy about this, and to make things worse, the other clans began to get upset as they realized more than ever before that pumpkin daddy was just in general absolutely screwing everything up. Pretty much everything was falling apart at the seams after years of keeping it together with duct tape and a prayer. Tensions were at an all time high, huge companies were falling, all that fun stuff. During this time a prominent member of a rivaling clan mistakenly ended up in the alcoves and was utterly traumatized by it! Turns out the alcoves are extremely dangerous if you don’t know where you’re going and pumpkin daddy pretty much just watched like “idk what to tell you man” as this poor guy tried and failed to escape over and over. Didn’t end on a bad note though, as pumpkin daddy eventually stopped just watching the guy flail around and nearly get killed and decided to help him. He didn’t help him get out, mind you, he just helped him not feel ashamed for being dyslexic but HELP IS HELP. the two were thusly on good terms which was NOT helping the situation considering they were supposed to be sworn enemies. After a bit more fighting and raiding places because some butterfly-freaks stole precious artifacts, and other plot points I legitimately forgot about because they never went anywhere, whoops, it was decided that the pumpkin clan and fish clan would merge in an attempt to smooth out issues. This did the opposite!!! Long story short the one guy who was holding everything together was killed and all out war broke out, and pumpkin daddy and Gourdie’s relationship fell apart once again after a decade of being on good terms. Whoops!!! Very bad timing too, as it was right before the harvest festival, a week long celebration starting on October 31st. Incidentally, he did actually did get captured during this time and was about to be hung, but the person who captured him was a good friend of the guy who died and she was so broken up about it she didn’t have it in her to, you know, execute him. So he lucked out there. In fact he managed to befriend her (maybe not befriend, more so she lost the only friend she had so eh why not cling to this weirdo who’s trying to help me through my grief) so he was off the hook once again.

It soon became very apparent though that pumpkin daddy had zero idea what he was doing and was just making things worse, so Bellona, who heard of all the shit going on, decided to go back and try to knock some sense into him because CLEARLY he was not handling things well in the slightest. This was a terrible idea!!! Uh oh!!! When she went back there she was recognized as being affiliated with pumpkin daddy and was killed. Whoops!!! The news of course reached pumpkin daddy and Gourdie (AND ONE OF MY FAVORITE JOKES IN IT ALL HAPPENED AT THIS POINT BUT THE JOKE DOESNT MAKE SENSE ANYMORE BECAUSE I HAD TO CHANGE SOME STUFF AROUND NOOOOO RIP TO THE JOKE ABOUT COOKIES AND CREMATED REMAINS, YOU WERE A REAL ONE) and that absolutely screwed up pumpkin daddy. The illegal crab restaurant was also discovered and was reported, being burnt down and the owner was arrested. That was probably for the best though, that guy was a bit of a jerk. But again THAT didn’t help things at all cause now his precious crab restaurant was gone. At least he still had the harvest festival right!!!???

Uh wrong!!! Due to Fina being a little shit, the patch was completely destroyed and a hybrid he had who reminded him of Bellona was killed in the process and uhhhh yikes he did not take it well!!! He still had to put on a show while he was pretty much dead inside and it was quite uncomfortable for everyone!!! He pretty much lost literally everything he had in like a week so yeah he was not having a good time! But there was one glimmer of hope! Sort of!

Yeees that’s right, the negotiations. It was decided upon that the clans (mainly the pumpkin and jørgan clan) would come together in unity as a last ditch effort to stop the war. It would all be one big happy celebration, except it wouldn’t, because it also doubled as a funeral for some of the people who died. Still though, some were hoping it would ease things and life could go back to normal

You guessed it, it did not!! Extra heard of all this and, despite still being on rough terms, decided to go to the negotiations. Not to celebrate or anything, to warn pumpkin daddy that Fina is absolutely trying to kill him, and to try to tell Gourdie to please stop denying that tbytf is bad, it’s obvious to everyone. He mostly knew of fina’s antics due to befriending some of the hybrids and they were like “yeah she’s kinda suspicious.” So he reluctantly went off to be the bearer of bad news, because he could tell things were coming to a head and things werent gonna end well. And he was pretty much spot on, pumpkin daddy barely got to do anything at the negotiations before Fina trapped him in a catatonic illusion and stashed him in a bathroom stall! Catatonic illusions are, as I’ve explained before, basically being dead to the world and stuck in some hellish illusion in your mind. So pumpkin daddy was stuck in one for like, 3 weeks? The illusion mainly consisted of these acid-trip-like experiences with Christmas music and snoopy and Roman soldiers but that’s not really important right now. Outside of the illusion, everyone was incredibly confused on where he went and growing very impatient because they couldn’t start without him. How did nobody find him? Well they did, actually. Extra did, to be more specific. But nobody believed him because by that point they had gone full on lord of the flies and were more interested in creating child fighting tournaments than listening to him. So extra did the only logical thing to do and slapped the shit out of pumpkin daddy. This of course worked, and he managed to explain the situation. This is a very inaccurate way of describing it but in my defense, this was one of the longest sections of it, and when I looked back at my notes to see what I had for this part I had almost the entire script for it soooo I’m not gonna write it all out.

Point is, pumpkin daddy was passed out in the bathroom for weeks while everyone else was fighting to the death. But anyhoo, once he was awake (and extremely disoriented) Gourdie and Extra (mostly Gourdie) decided it was a probably bad idea to tell him Fina was…the way she was immediately after he woke up, so they decided to let the matter go for just long enough for him to get his bearings. That plan fell through though, because of course it did, because the second they looked away from him for one second, pumpkin daddy had vanished. Fina of course took the opportunity to put him in another illusion (she didn’t have the power to do another catatonic illusion so now he was on the loose and not knowing what the fuck is going on). The negotiations begun and, to prevent Gourdie from helping pumpkin daddy, she sicced her army of trained squirrels on her and disappeared.

SO UH things were not going well!!! Pumpkin daddy was looking everywhere for Fina, climbing on the ceiling like a spider monkey, all while also hallucinating that snoopy was mauling everyone. Everything pretty much went to shit at this point and nobody had any idea what was going on. Pumpkin daddy was on the loose screaming about snoopy, extra was trying to calm him down and explain the situation, Gourdie was gravely injured and trying to figure out what the hell to do, and Fina was trying to convince pumpkin daddy everything was totally fine. He eventually snapped out of his illusion though and was, once again, very disoriented and attacking people. Nevertheless, the negotiations went on. But right as they were about to be finalized, he made a grave mistake.

He coughed on the cake. Yes, that’s right, Fina had a cake for the celebration (what better time than a funeral to have a sugary confection?). A wonderful cake, custom made by only the best bakers. And in pumpkin daddy’s ill, confused stupor, he coughed on it. For whatever reason, this is what pushed Fina over the edge. She completely snapped and let go of any facade of being this innocent confused hybrid, shoved him against a wall, took off her heels and threatened to slit his throat with them. It all clicked in an instant as to what was going on for pumpkin daddy, but he couldn’t get himself to fight back. Extra and Gourdie (and one other guy who I haven’t really mentioned yet) successfully restrained her, while everyone else was still in fighting-tournament-mode and were making bets on who’d win. While everyone was fighting, fires and mudslides came in and resulted in everything being somehow even worse (long story there, just go with it. There are fires and mudslides).

Once the dust cleared, pumpkin daddy was just…gone. Completely vanished. All that he left in his wake was a small book with some writings in it and a cryptic email. But what actually happened to him, nobody knows. It’s unlikely he’s dead as no body was ever recovered despite months of searching. So uh. Who knows what the hell happened to him? Gourdie led multiple attempts to find him but again, he just never turned up. Over the next few months the island was renamed, the clans disbanded…pretty much any mark he left was gone, yet his legacy is still painfully lingering everywhere.

Definitely not somewhat inspired by song lyrics hahahaha speaking of which have I ever mentioned how much I love the song can’t catch me now (YES I HAVE) I think I should talk about it more (NO I SHOULDN’T) ANYHOOOOOO that’s the basic timeline. This turned out way longer than I expected so I won’t be able to go over as many miscellaneous details as I’d like to. Eh. Maybe sometime else. But for now:

•HE’S SCARED OF GLOVES!!! Nobody knows why despite numerous attempts to find out or to get rid of the fear entirely. It’s not just WEARING gloves that’s terrifying, being in the mere vicinity of one is terrifying. This applies to all gloves of all kinds (with one singular exception who I will get to soon). This aversion to gloves results in, predictably, him getting frostbite a lot as he lives in a colder environment, which earned him the nickname “the frostbite maestro.” He has somehow avoided any serious cold-related injuries. He just has excellent plot armor in that regard I suppose. The worst glove of them all is Hamlet, a demonically possessed, foul smelling ski glove who tormented pumpkin daddy by making his life hell and then laying completely still when he would try to show Hamlet’s sentience to anyone. So basically, hamlet gaslit everyone into thinking pumpkin daddy had gone completely nuts. Hamlet was eventually thrown into a fireplace to burn, but his smelly ghost remains. The BEST glove, on the other hand, is Lucretius the magic nitrile glove!!!

Nobody exactly knows why pumpkin daddy sees Lucretius as the one “good” glove. Most likely it’s because he first saw Lucretius while high off his ass on anesthesia but again, who knows. Either way, Lucretius is an allegedly magical glove who is a simple blue nitrile glove with a mustache and bow tie drawn on. Luckily, for you Lucretius lovers out there, I have a visual representation:

Real life Lucretius, I love him so much. Anywayyyyyy Lucretius is the one “good” glove. Pumpkin daddy loved him. I say LOVED because Lucretius met an unfortunate fate as he was eaten by a woodpecker, dubbed Mr woodpecker. Fortunately, Lucretius was rescued, as pumpkin daddy tracked down the woodpecker and killed him (and maaaaybe ate him afterwards but that could’ve just been an empty threat) and saved Lucretius, though Lucretius was heavily damaged in the incident. Lucretius soon got a “replacement” (nothing could truly replace Lucretius, but pumpkin daddy found a second glove similar enough to Lucretius that he found it somewhat tolerable to be around, so it was Lucretius’s spiritual successor) but that replacement was once again stolen by a woodpecker, assumedly the previous woodpecker’s wife, Mrs woodpecker. The replacement was, again, rescued, but Mrs. Woodpecker’s fate is unknown. Alas, no other gloves have been tolerable to pumpkin daddy, something he is very harsh in letting it be known. like he called someone a sadist for knitting gloves. Although he could probably outlaw gloves all together he for some reason keeps them legal (what a good leader) but insists they stay far away from him and that the word “glove” be censored in the media.

• He has way too many pets. Like an absurd amount. Yet somehow he still manages to take care of all of them. Most likely he has the hybrids help him with all of them. For one, theres a herd of llamas. He uses their fur to knit sweaters and scarves. There’s a fox who’s name I can’t remember, and a second fox who’s brown. There’s Derrick and Didi the deer who he’s more so sworn enemies with, and their reindeer cousin. There’s a spider, a ladybug (deceased), a bumblebee named stove (also deceased), a black cat, a chickadee, some fish, some other miscellaneous birds, some turtles (whom he ended up giving away), and probably some others I’m forgetting. His favorite pets by far are his mice. When they die he puts them in a MAUSoleum (AHAHAHHAAHAHHA). His favorite mouse, Dinkles, was tragically killed by an evil home improvement company. But yeah he likes mice.

• He has an abnormally low body temperature?? I don’t remember what it was exactly, I think like 95 F? Point is he is extremely sensitive to any form of heat and will be downright inconsolable if it’s above 70 F. Extra is a weatherman and he specifically told them to issue warnings if it’s going to be over 70 degrees. Speaking of medical mysteries he has a plethora of them. Well maybe not mysteries per se but MAN having a gourd for a head is the least of his concerns!! He has low iron levels, low copper levels, arrhythmia, mild hyperhidrosis, severe allergies to horses, turkey, and strawberries, he has had thousands of mini-strokes, probably a heart attack, and a brain aneurysm. What is wrong with him. How is he still alive. Fun fact about the brain aneurysm though, that part actually came from the comic I sent to the author themself! They said it was funny so I can rest at night knowing that the very creator of pumpkin daddy approves of him having a brain aneurysm! And the panel where that was said I put a pikmin in the background. Idk just a random fact lmao

• HE’S SCARED OF KING ARTHUR. LIKE SO SCARED. UNREASONABLY SCARED. like with the gloves, nobody knows why. He always says he’ll explain and he never does. Whatever the reason, he cannot handle knights, royalty, and worst of all, round tables. He sincerely believes that King Arthur is real and that he’s coming after him. It’s easy to write it off as an irrational fear, but king Arthur’s sword was discovered alongside some stolen artifacts some freakish butterfly people stole, so……could have some merit to it. But yeah you can’t even mention King Arthur around him without him crying.

• He hates the number four!!! It’s his unlucky number, or so he says. It all stemmed from when he, in an attempt to reconnect with his son, played a game of Yahtzee with extra. He lost by four points and has never been the same since. The number four haunts him. He cannot stand it. SHAKES YOU AROUND VIOLENTLY. HEY. HEY. LISTEN. have you ever noticed I draw ears inconsistently? if you look at em, different characters have different numbers in their ears….yeah….you can easily disguise them in there….pumpkin daddy has a four. Idk. that’s unimportant I just want to draw attention to it because I spend way too much time thinking if a number to associate with a character.

• He has bugs in his cardiovascular system. He’s not the only one.

• Despite following his tightrope morality as he calls it (perfectly balancing good and bad thinking it’ll “even things out”) he does have the occasional moment of actual regret. Notably, he once stole a little penguin’s snow tube and was so wracked with guilt that he gave it back and didn’t show his face for like a week. He’s not a bad guy, really, he’s just…well ok he is

• He feels the need to do morning announcements every day like he’s Isabelle from animal crossing or something. Somehow his announcements are even worse than Isabelle’s as half the time something goes wrong and he almost gets himself killed somehow. They all follow the exact script yet somehow no script at all.

• There’s a gaggle of insects who harass him incessantly. Mostly consists of a bunch of mosquitoes. At first he hated them so much that he tried inhaling insecticides to rid of them (spoiler alert, did not work) but eventually he grew fond of them. The bugs are now his therapists.

• HE’S OBSESSED WITH TIME. LIKE SO OBSESSED. To the point where it is unhealthy. The reason he has managed to do so much is that he spends every waking moment doing Something because he’s terrified of wasting time. He trained himself to specifically fall asleep at 2 am and get up at 6 for the least amount of time wasted possible. He has it down to a science. Very literally in fact, he’s developed multiple time theories and ways of measuring time. He also unsurprisingly owns a lot of custom made clocks. Point is, the guy likes time maybe a little too much. He capitalizes Time in every sentence (like that) because he thinks it’s of upmost importance. He should probably chill out a little. Fun fact, I made his birthday September 17th because it is apparently “times up day” which is fitting because with every passing year he is very literally running out of time. patting myself on the back for that one, that was a lucky coincidence actually because I randomly declared his birthday as September 16th before I knew that so I just had to move it up a day. Anyway

• He’s really into astrology and stuff for some reason. Wholeheartedly believes in it to the point where he lets it dictate his opinion on things even if it goes against what he actually feels. He also was formerly friends with a genie named greenie who made his life hell but disguised it as sage genie advice. Greenie knew just how to make him tick, he’s a complete menace. After years of believing greenie’s every word, pumpkin daddy caught on and brokenheartedly cut greenie off and stopped believing in horoscopes. Woe.

• Garfield once stole his lasagna when he was lost in the mountains, which led to him almost starving to death. He was so upset over this that he and Bellona went on a campaign to kill Garfield. She really didn’t want to but he was adamant Garfield had to pay. It’s really not important to anything I just bring it up because I once made lyrics for a song going over the situation and I giggle whenever I think about the line “Belle, this cat is straight from hell”

He pretty much runs the radio industry , among…lots of other things. He has a monopoly on almost every industry. But when specifically discussing the radio—he had a radio show called FincgLIVE that was a complete fucking disaster. He was overtired the entire time and purposefully spread misinformation like how you should “wash your hamburger meat with soap and water to get all the little maggots out.” He absolutely hated doing it but felt the need to continue it anyway. He eventually quit when his roof caved in live on air and he went on a total tirade while trapped under a bunch of rubble. After that he gave up entirely and just gave the show to his secretary, who actually enjoyed hosting it, so happy ending I guess.

HE’S A COMPLETE PYROMANIAC!!! SOMEONE STOP HIM he has lit so many fires for absolutely no reason. He once burnt down a historic hotel because he was bored. Why is he like this. Somehow he only got hurt from it once and even after that he didn’t stop. If sirens sound, it is a 50/50 chance he lit something on fire again. Somehow he has never injured anyone in the process which is a miracle. It’s not his fault that things are just so flammable, they’re practically begging to be lit aflame :(

That is all for now. if you have somehow read this far uh. thanks?. uuhuhrhhhbghgghgh