#I'M SO OUTRAGEOUSLY LEE FOR HIM

[bitchlessdino]

entertaining pleasures (m) pt. 1

a THAT’S SHOWBIZ, BABY! 💼 AN SVT COLLABORATION Pairing: entertainment ceo!chan x f!tv producer! reader Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, Word count: 3.k rating: R (in second pt. 2) tags: (smut in pt 2) enemies to fwbs, fwb to ???, entertainment au, office au, cocky!chan, undermining!reader, work power play Summary: Chan didn't think he had what it takes and motivation to be a CEO when he rather be the one on stage. It wasn't until he met the most obnoxious TV producer he's ever met that he was committed to being the best goddamn Entertainment CEO they and Carat Company has ever seen. Author Note: part 2 in the works! i have been going through such a month lately and i had hoped it'd end sooner than later. hopefully when i'm at a better place i can feel confident enough to rejoin the jungle of tumblr. as of now, thank you for all your patience.

Lee Chan never wanted to be CEO of an entertainment company. He knew his talents would be wasted behind a desk, no matter how good he looked in a suit.

After years of begging his Uncle Cheolin to let him audition for a spot in his company, the old man instead decided to bestow the passionate performer with something more practical. In that senile elder’s eyes, CEO—his former position—would be in good hands with Chan, who loved the stage and performance more than anything. The old coot thought that no one person would be better to hold the position than someone who values the limelight as much as Chan does.

Chan thought this was the biggest mistake the old man had ever made. He knew nothing about the entertainment industry except wanting to be a part of it, being on stage for everyone to see. Alas, these were the cards he’d been dealt, and it looked like he’d never get his chance for fame. 

However, there was an upside to this.

“Hello? Interns can’t be back here. Go back to your designated stations, please.”

Befuddled, Chan stared back at you with clear offense, turning his head around to be sure he was the person you decided to speak to in such a manner. “Excuse me, are you talking to me?”

You rolled your eyes, holding your clipboard to your chest like an impatient authority figure as you tapped your foot incessantly. “Is there anyone else here?”

The CEO scoffed, crossing his arms. Sure, he could’ve dressed better today and not thrown on the hoodie he’s had since high school, but he wanted to be lowkey. Inconspicuous. Perhaps his attempt to do so was too successful.

Still, couldn’t you feel the powerful aura he emitted? Even if he wasn’t in the position he desired, his charisma was undeniable. Suits look great on him; you should get that vibe even when he’s not wearing one. How could you mistake him for a mere intern?

He tried smiling politely, about to dismiss it as a simple misunderstanding. “You are severely mistaken, Miss—“

“There’s no time for this.” Turning to the back of the set, you picked up a pack of water bottles and shoved them in his hands, leaving him baffled. “Pass these along to the cast. You don’t need me to show you where they’re residing, do you?”

He read off the ID on your lanyard, committing your name and position to memory. “Miss Producer. You had better listen to what I have to say before my patience runs thin.”

You sneered at his unexpected attitude. “Are you looking to join the unemployment line? Just do as you’re told. No more, no less.”

Chan, a man rarely flustered, felt a vein throb at his temple. How dare you threaten him? His face, usually so carefree and composed, was now a canvas of barely suppressed fury. "Hey—" 

Before he could properly articulate his outrage, your earpiece came to life with static in your ear. You held up a hand, a dismissive gesture that cut off his nascent tirade mid-sentence. His jaw stayed slack open, seeing your attention quickly averted elsewhere. His brow furrowed in annoyance as you picked up the message on the other end, as if he wasn’t there, about to show you a piece of his mind. "Go for PD…are you kidding me? Again?"

Before the CEO could clear up the confusion, you were already strutting to a different room, not giving him a word in edgewise, leaving him with his arms full of water bottles. Well, this wasn’t what he expected to see on a television set.

Obligation was instilled in him despite the bizarre circumstance, and he sought out the cast you commanded him to tend to, handing off the water bottles as you told him. Talent from the agency that recognized him from the first day accepted his offering, confused, asking what he was doing here and doing menial tasks. Chan simply shrugged, just wanting to get through the day, finishing up the work before quietly scoping out the rest of the set.

Just in his line of vision, you’re discussing something with another crew member, your stern disposition leaving the company with their hands politely crossed before they scurried off to do the unheard task. The CEO shook his head disapprovingly, crossing his arms over his chest. He valued good, hard work just as much as the next guy, but people can make mistakes, and there’s a better way to handle these matters. He knew you for an hour, and already he did not like you. 

Now he was dying to show off his authority, but he desperately needed to get out of these clothes.

The next time he made a visit, he made sure it was in a tailored suit fit to perfection, business cards stuffed in his pockets, and a mean look that meant business. He observed from a distance, watching all of the chaos. The set was as hectic as last time, if not more, and you were seen everywhere at once, acting the part of the producer to the tee, never having a second to yourself. He almost started to feel bad, but it didn’t soften his wounded pride. He had to show you who’s boss.

As the high of a filming day died down, Chan watched as you retreated to your office and waited until no one else could bother you. He then knocked on your door, listening for your response to enter. When you finally answered, he walked in, your eyes not leaving your laptop as he entered.

“What now?”

He smoothed his hands over his suit, mustering a clear and confident tone. “Hello.”

Your eyes barely lift to meet Chan’s gaze, unimpressed even with his new appearance. “I don’t know who let you in, but we’re not buying anything.”

Chan gritted his teeth at your lackluster response, but maintained his composure, politely approaching. “I assure you, Producer, I am not selling you anything.”

You narrowed your gaze. “Then who are you? What do you want?”

Chan stood tall and confident, looking as if he could command a room with ease. His posture was impeccable, shoulders back, chin slightly raised, a picture of self-assurance honed by years at the helm of a multinational corporation. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips, hinting at a quiet satisfaction with the trajectory of his empire. “Allow me to introduce myself. You may have recognized me under a different guise, so let me clear up the confusion. My name is Lee Jung Chan, the acting CEO of Carat Ent. Pleasure to make all your acquaintance properly.”

You narrowed your gaze at him, an unimpressed look etched onto your face. “What happened to Pi?” you questioned, a hint of suspicion lacing your voice.

He adjusted the cuff of his impeccably tailored suit jacket, a subtle movement that betrayed a flicker of nervousness. “He’s left me in charge so he can deal with other ventures,” Chan replied smoothly.

A smirk turned up your lips. “So old coot finally retire, did he?” 

Chan cleared his throat, a small, polite sound that did little to mask his slight irritation. “Anyways, I’m taking his place. I’d appreciate not being mistaken for an intern. Again.”

You let out a loud ‘ha!’, a booming laugh that echoed in the spacious office. A wide, knowing smile spread across your face as the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place. “Hmm, so that’s why you look familiar.”

“That's right, so if you mind–” Chan began, attempting to assert his newfound authority.

You cut him off, your curiosity piqued. “Aren’t you kinda young to be a CEO of a company as old as Carat Entertainment, Mr…Lee, was it?” You paused, feigning a struggle to recall his name, though you knew it perfectly well. The company had been a titan in the entertainment industry for decades, a venerable institution, and this young man seemed hardly old enough to run a lemonade stand, let alone a corporate empire.

“Why yes, I may appear so, but I am–I assure you–very capable in my position.” He spoke with a practiced confidence, bluffing out of his ass. He didn’t actually think so, not entirely, but he wasn’t going to let you, know that.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“You wouldn’t let me,” he retorted, a strained smile playing on his lips. 

“CEO Pi gave away his position to you?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your tone. Pi was a man who lived and breathed Carat Entertainment. The idea of him simply handing over the reins, especially to someone so seemingly inexperienced, was almost unfathomable.

He tried to keep his composure, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets, the biggest shit-eating grin he could muster plastered across his face. He knew he was being teased, but he easily had the upper hand. “That is correct,” Chan affirmed, a hint of pride finally breaking through his carefully constructed facade.

“Why would he do that?” The question hung in the air, begging for a logical explanation.

Chan's eyes held yours, and a familiar glimmer of pride flickered within them. “Don’t you see the resemblance? With me and Uncle—the prior CEO?”

Upon closer inspection, you grasped his point and marveled at your previous oversight. The likeness was uncanny; it was as if a blur filter had been applied to the well-seasoned chief executive, making him appear thirty or forty years younger.

“Huh. Now the pieces are coming together.”

“Finally, you understand your place.” Chan’s voice was smooth, almost a purr, laced with an irritating blend of triumph and condescension.

“Nepotism is alive and well, I see.” The words were out before you could stop them, your sarcasm fueled by a superior sense of existence, knowing he was just another kid born into with a silver spoon.

Chan scoffed, licking the inside of his cheek as if physically holding back a torrent of sharp retorts. His eyes, however, narrowed slightly, flashing annoyance for the briefest of moments. “As a reminder,” he began, his voice taking on a sharper edge, “I am a capable person in my position. CEO Pi chose me for a reason, a reason that extends far beyond familial ties, I assure you.”

“Well, do you have anything else to say?” You challenged, crossing your arms over your chest, refusing to be intimidated. 

“...No apology?” Chan raised an eyebrow, baffled by your lack of reaction. “You severely mistook me for an intern. Do you not feel that warrants some form of contrition?”

“Honest misunderstanding,” you stated, your voice flat, unyielding. 

He scoffed again, a subtle sign of his indignation. “A misunderstanding that could have you blacklisted, out of this film set and potentially out of this industry, if I were anyone else. Consider yourself fortunate. I’ll be kind this time and not hold it against you, but let this be a lesson, a very clear one.” 

You let out a chortle, amused at his attempt at a threat. “Sure. Will that be all?”

“.. Yes. For now,” he slowly made his way to the door. “And get used to my visits. I care about my talent, this certainly won't be the last time you see me.”

He made good on his word and visited as often as he said he would. You’d see his passing figure on set, his insistent presence at writer meetings, and even him frequently talking to actors in and out of his agency. Annoyed was an understatement, and every second he was around gnawed at your attention. His charismatic smile, so captivating to others, mocked you instead, undermining your position. The low hum of his conversations, interrupting important activities and meetings pertaining to the filming, had become a constant buzzing in your ears, impossible to tune out.

You found yourself subconsciously bracing for his appearances, a faint knot always tightening in your stomach at the sound of his voice or a whisper of his name. His casual inquiries about your work felt like thinly veiled assessments, no doubt scrutinizing your every choice just to get a rise out of you. Even the way he’d subtly rearrange a prop on set, a minor adjustment, felt like a direct commentary on your creative vision. 

The filming set’s air always felt thick with his insistent presence, making it harder to hone in on work, just a scratch that no cream or remedy could get rid of. You started to notice the crew exchanging knowing glances whenever he was near, either excited or nervous for such an attractive but powerful person present, all while knowing just how much it affected you as executive producer.

Eventually, you were forced to pull him aside. The decision weighed heavily on you. It was the necessary confrontation you’d been dreading, even if it meant risking your position of power.

“Mr. Lee.”

Chan turned to you with a smug grin, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Yes, Miss Producer?” he purred, his voice a low rumble that irked you beyond belief.

“You need to stop interfering with work,” you stated, trying to keep your voice down despite the impending frustration. “You’re becoming a distraction for the people working on set.”

He chuckled, grating on your nerves. “I’m just being a proactive CEO, ensuring everything runs smoothly and my investments are protected.” He leaned back putting his weight on one side of his body, emulating an image of feigned nonchalance.

“Don’t you have other, more pressing work you should be doing?” you retorted, gesturing vaguely towards the mountains of paperwork and financial reports that surely awaited him back at the entertainment agency.

“Nothing as important as this, Miss Producer,” he said, his gaze sweeping across the bustling set, lingering on a leaning prop and pushing it back in place on the prop table before returning to you.

Being hands-on wasn’t a bad thing, but this level of micro-management was beyond excessive. “Oh really?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Why yes, my talent is my top priority. I need to oversee them always, nurture their growth, and ensure their well-being. It’s part of my dedication to the arts.” He delivered with a theatrical flourish, as if he were a benevolent patron rather than a shrewd businessman, which was all he was to you as far as you knew besides annoying.

You let out a ghost of a scoff, trying to maintain your professionalism. “You and your pretty face may fool everyone else, but not me. However, everyone on set, especially me, knows you’re just here to bide time, get under my skin, and definitely not to ‘nurture talent.’”

“I see. So that’s what’s going on.” His smug expression widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He walked towards you, one foot over the other, like a predator stalking his prey before going in for the kill. “You’re into me, aren’t you? Is that why you’re so agitated?”

Your jaw dropped, wondering how he could be more wrong. “Can your ego be any bigger? Why is it that your attention is always on the wrong thing? We have a show to produce, deadlines to meet, and you’re here playing on my set like it's your own personal playground.”

He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “Admit it, Miss Producer. Am I distracting you? You can’t focus because I’m all you think about, aren’t I?” He leaned in, standing only a few inches away from where you were, your discomfort pleasing him more than it should.

You took a step back, your patience wearing thin, licking the inside of your cheek. “Delusion may have gotten you your job, but it won’t get me.”

“You say that, but I can feel you undressing me with your eyes. Wherever I am, you’re there, lurking in from my peripheral view, glaring when really you’re wondering what I look like under this suit and tie. Isn’t that right?” 

His voice was a low murmur, a velvet-coated accusation that sent you a shiver and admittedly pebbled your skin, not that you’d never admit it. The smug smile on his lips was fitting of a man who always got what he wanted, and right now, it seemed he was determined to dismantle your composure as he pushed and pawed at your buttons.

You scoffed, a habit that was becoming increasingly common around him. “Maybe instead of CEO, you should pursue writing. You seem to have a real talent for the dramatics.”

He chuckled, a rich, resonant sound that vibrated through the air between you. “Oh, I’m talented at a lot of things. You’d be pleasantly, perhaps even scandalously, pleased.” His eyes, dark and piercing, held yours in a gaze that felt suffocatingly intimate.

“Are you sure it’s not you who’s the one that is into me?” you countered, trying to turn the tables on him. Although your tone was dripping in sarcasm, your heart hammered a little faster than usual, betraying your determination not to yield to his whim.

His provoking smirk widened, a silent challenge in his eyes. "So, what if I am? What would you do then?" The words, though softly spoken, were as if subtly trying to lure you in without trying.

A retort died on your lips, the quick, sharp comeback you usually had at the ready suddenly elusive. His eyes, dark and intense, were boring into you, an intense force of gravity rooted you to the spot. Suddenly, the air felt thin, and you found yourself desperately trying to control the ragged rhythm of your breathing, each inhale and exhale a conscious effort. 

Your gaze, almost against your will, grazed over his features, drawn in by the subtle dip in his brows that hinted at a deeper amusement. And then, your eyes landed on the curve of his lips, a slow, rousing, impish grin that made your stomach clench impossibly tight. There was something about the young CEO’s mockery that both infuriated and captivated you.

"Nothing," you managed. Swallowing, you tried to reclaim some semblance of control before adding, "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have actual work to do." 

With a swift, almost desperate movement, you turned on your heel, determined to ignore him, to dismiss the inexplicable pull he exerted. But even as you walked away, you didn't have to turn back around to know he was still there, still grinning. The image of that smirk, that irritating grin, was burned into the wrinkles of your brain and adhered to the back of your mind.

[bradshawed]

omg can I perhaps request a bradley smau! in which you hard launch your relationship w him <33 and nobody is expecting it not even jake LOL (no pressure ofc love u lots kiss kiss)

mal baby you can request anything and everything you'd like <33 such an honour to write something conceptualised by ur beautiful brain, i hope u like it & love u more mwahh

warnings — fem!reader, use of y/n, navy inaccuracies, incorrect timeline, fluff, drama queen jake™, dagger squad cuties

credits to @h4m1lt0ns for inspiring the gc layout!

masterlist & tgm minilist!

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yourusername ♫ Jerry Lee Lewis ⋅ Great Balls Of Fire

liked by thejakeseresin, theharddeck, user1 and more yourusername 🧜‍♀️

view all comments ...

thejakeseresin 😍😍

thejakeseresin i don't get starstruck often unless it's you

user1 if jake's fumbling the bag then i fear we're all fucked

user2 just give the poor man a chance

squad1 good job today, you've earned the weekend off!

...

𓆃 imessage with; MAV'S MENACES™

bagman: why won't she give me a chance ☹️

babygirl bob: bc she's smart?

bagman: it was a rhetorical question baby on board

nat!: don't ask stupid questions if u don't expect an answer dickhead

princess mickey: woah guys how about we take a step back

princess mickey: what's she posted this time?

bagman: only the aestheticest post

nat!: not a word but okay

bagman: semantics 🙄

bagman: god all i'm asking for is one chance 🙏

princess mickey: i'm mickey, not god but close enough message disliked by bagman

nat!: even god can't help you here

macho man: ouch

bagman: javy man help me out here, i'm dying

macho man: sorry jake, maybe it's for the best

b-rad: hard deck tonight guys? message liked by all

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𓆃 imessages between; bagman and b-rad

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𓆃 imessage with; MAV'S MENACES™

bagman: bradley nicholas bradshaw!!!!!! message reacted with ❔by b-rad

bagman: how dare you?!

bagman: after everything we've been through messaged reacted with 🙄 by b-rad

bagman: i tried to discuss this private but you've left me with no choice

bagman: i hereby call an emergency meeting!!!!!!

nat!: what's drama queen crying about this time? messaged liked by b-rad, princess mickey, reuben <3 and babygirl bob

princess mickey: here for the gossip what's up?

bagman: it's not gossip?! it's an outrage

reuben <3: what is?

babygirl bob: we're still waiting for him to tell us

macho man: i'm here, you can start now jake

bagman: the love of my life is engaged

princess mickey: what?!

bagman: it gets worse

bagman: she's engaged to rooster 😩🤢 message disliked by b-rad

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yourusername and bbradshaw

liked by mavverick, ameliabenj, phoenix.t, and more yourusername show me the way home honey

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thejakeseresin 🤢🤢🤢 ⤷ thejakeseresin not u ofc y/n, you're beautiful but him?!

thejakeseresin i- ⤷ yourusername if it helps, mav introduced us years ago after i saved his ass once so it's not you liked by bbradshaw and mavverick

thejakeseresin that's it i'm never going to recover

penny my gorgeous girl, congratulations <3 ⤷ yourusername thank you penny (and for helping him and mav with the planning) ⤷ penny it's my pleasure

mavverick your parents would be proud bradley liked by yourusername and bbradshaw

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𓆃 imessages between; nat! and b-rad

[mediumorange]

Ok so I'm finally getting around to my thoughts on the theatrical rerelease!

The first thing that really hit me was the sense of scale. The long shots, the long silences, the sky that fills the entire frame. Seen in theaters, Brokeback Mountain conveys the physical experience of the Mountain West and the Great Plains like no media I've ever experienced. The sky is staggeringly large. I lived in the Great Plains region for several years, and that's the thing that sticks with me. Unbelievably, the sky feels even bigger over the prairie than it does over the ocean. The sky stretches on forever. It dwarfs the prairie, which also stretches on forever, and you can't imagine the prairie will ever end, let alone the continent, let alone the world. I think that I understood intellectually, having seen the movie on my television and my computer screen, that the shot selection was intended to convey this sensation. Seeing it on the big screen, I felt it for the first time.

The second thing was Heath's performance. It is so completely outrageous on the big screen in the best way. Every inch of him is in this character, every ounce, every atom. Every tiny movement, posture, breath, everything. Nothing is wasted, and when he's that big you see all of it. It was really special to watch.

Third, the audio quality. Thanks to the audio technology in the theater, I heard things I had never heard before. For me, the most remarkable thing was the wind. It was omnipresent. You could hear it in nearly every scene that took place in Wyoming, even the ones that were inside. For me, this felt so true to life. On the prairie, the wind is inescapable. For hundreds and hundreds of miles, it is so perfectly flat that there is nothing is in the way of the wind. It never slows down. It hits you full force. And it's constant. I can't remember where he said it, but Ang Lee observed this about Wyoming, as well, when he and his team visited Wyoming for research and location scouting. If I remember correctly, he described the wind as "maddening" (or something similar).

The scene that particularly comes to mind is one of the earliest scenes featuring Ennis and Alma, at their "lonesome" ranch house before they move to the apartment above the laundromat. She's doing the laundry, the kids are crying, everything is chaotic, and the wind never abates. This is true to life, but it's true to Annie Proulx, too! In Annie's writing, the environment is always a character in the scene. It's not just a place for the action to unfold. The environment is why the action happens, and it tells you everything you need to know about the action and how to feel about it. The constancy of the wind, of the presence of the outside world pressing in against ostensibly private places, the inescapability of the movement of a great and terrible world... It's marvelous.

The theater's audio quality also allowed me to hear some dialogue I had never heard before. There's some quiet dialogue that happens during the Second Night In The Tent (tm) scene and then immediately following the "I wish I knew how to quit you" monologue. I had been aware that there was murmuring going on, but I had never heard the words before. Both times, though in very different contexts, Ennis is emotionally overwrought. Both times, we hear very quietly, "I'm sorry." Then, "It's alright, it's alright." The juxtaposition of these lines in two different contexts is heartbreaking. It also feels very intentional to have the beginning of the story and the end mirror each other in this way-- we get another interpolation/juxtaposition in the latter scene, where we are presented with the "dozy embrace,” as Annie terms it, from the "You're sleeping on your feet like a horse" memory right before Ennis drives away following their fight. Through the contrast of tenderness with bitterness, both are heightened.

The last thing I noticed that felt really impactful is something I probably could have noticed on a smaller screen had I been paying more attention. I think I noticed it this time because the big screen experience really drew my attention to the cinematography and shot selection in a new way. The shot of Ennis arriving in Signal at the very beginning of the movie and the shot of him driving home at the very end, right before we see him put the numbers on his mailbox (presumably having just moved in), are identical. It is very early in the morning, or perhaps late in the evening but either way nearly dark, and we see a lone vehicle in the distance as it makes its way across the mountains. The only difference is the direction the vehicle moves. Once from left to right, once from right to left.

This shot clarifies something for me. In the short story, Ennis is living in Signal by the time he and Jack go on their final trip together. In a conversation with Jack, he refers to "a woman who worked part-time at the Wolf Ears bar" (Cassie, in the film) "in Signal where he was working now for Stoutamire’s cow and calf outfit." In the movie, however, Ennis is clearly living in Riverton at this point. We see him leaving the Riverton post office with his postcard stamped "DECEASED." The choice to put this mirrored shot right before the shot of Ennis putting numbers on his mailbox says to me that Ennis has now moved to Signal. Only in the film, he doesn't move until after Jack's death. Why now?

In a way, this is Ennis and Jack finally moving in together. Moving to the town where they first met, the closest town to Brokeback Mountain. Brokeback Mountain, which Jack called "all we got." Brokeback Mountain, which he wanted for his final resting place.

TLDR; Go see it in theaters.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo eavesdroping on his wife when she's talking about him

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: While you kept your relationship with Satoru private, you always admire him when you meet at work. However, when your students ask you about your type in men, you can't help but describe the love of your life who hears every single word

Notes: This is sooo much fluff because I needed it today, thank you love @hitori979 for your great request 🤍 as always, I'm doing a happy dance when you leave a comment and show some love so please do 🤍 Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @bakugosgf2005 @ourplehazeworld @niikkoollmm

It’s hard to keep your hungry gaze off him while being at work. He just looks so effortlessly breathtaking with his hands shoved in his pockets and that small smile on his delicate lips while talking to Megumi. The only thing that stops you from losing your cool completely is the pair of sunglasses that covers his mesmerizing orbs.

Your heart jumps up and down in joy. God, how much you love that man. You’ve been married for three years now without anyone knowing. And while you do enjoy your privacy, it hurts from time to time that you’re only able to admire him from afar at Jujutsu High. How nice it would be to run your fingers through his hair, to get lost in his arms, to flirt with him recklessly…

“(y/)-san, are you okay?”

Yuji’s concerned voice rips you out of your train off thoughts immediately, making you shake your head in disbelief. Damn, you really need to stop daydreaming.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve got a little carried away…”, you mumble.

“Daydreaming again, (y/n)?”

Oh, just a look at him is enough to realize that Satoru knows exactly what he’s doing. You turn around to face him, a playful grin flatters your lips.

“Not about you, Romeo”, you remark sweetly.

He shakes his head while smiling into himself. Even though both of you agreed on keeping your relationship and marriage out of work and Jujutsu High, he can’t help but tease you from time to time. After all, you’re still his wife, right? Even if no one except Megumi knows.

“Now excuse me, I’m on my way to teach my students for real instead of just standing there and looking pretty for my money”, you tease him, fully aware of the fact that he’ll make you pay for every word this evening.

“Do you really think I’m pretty, (y/n)?”

Yes, the prettiest of them all. The words lie on the tip of your tongue, just about to leave your mouth when you stop yourself in time. No, this is not the place to flirt. You have a job to do. With one last glance at him, you turn on your heel and walk into the classroom.

The way he looks at you leaves you speechless every time. How is it even possible that a man like him is in love with a woman like you? While you are quite gorgeous, smart and strong yourself, there’s just nothing that compares to him. It’s like he put a spell on you, you are so utterly in love with Satoru Gojo that your heart hammers out of your chest just by this sweet little flirt. Even after all these years, even after knowing each other better than everyone else he still sends shivers down your spine.

“Right, (y/n)-san?”, Nobara suddenly questions.

Fuck, you were lost in thoughts again. What are you supposed to do?

“Sure”, you mutter.

“Sure” seems like an appropriate answer for many things, especially when it comes to Nobara. It seems like all she wants to know about is how you do your hair and makeup and why you look so snatched in your uniform.

“See, I just knew (y/n)-san is on my side with this one!”, Nobara cries out.

“Shut up”, Megumi hisses.

“Huh, what’s going on?”, you question.

“Fushiguro flirted with a girl yesterday!”, Nobara announces outraged.

You tilt your head to the side, amused by the discussion that lays itself out in front of you. Megumi is like your son, an important part of your life since you’ve met Satoru 8 years ago. Apart from Gojo and yourself, he is the only one who knows about your secret relationship. And while he doesn’t seem to mind it most of the time, he sometimes glances at you with disgust in his eyes when he caught you staring again.

“Nothing to be ashamed about, Megumi-chan. Just make sure to use protection”, you comment with a sly grin.

“Huh, you mean like an umbrella? But it isn’t even raining…”

“Are you really that dumb, Yuji?”

“Shut up you two, I only explained her the way to the cinema!”

“What about you, (y/n)-san?”

Nobara’s sudden question catches you off guard. What should be with you?

“What do you mean?”

She smiles at you unpromisingly, her eyes dark and mysterious.

“What’s your type?”

“You mean like her blood type?”, Yuji mutters behind his hand.

“No! I mean her type in man! How is this so difficult to understand? Did you take a too hot bath!?”

You swallow. Should you really talk about something like this with your students? You are their teacher after all. Yes, actually you are here today to explain how sealing works. Your mind drifts to Satoru again. Well, a little chit chat won’t hurt, right?

“He has to be tall.”

“Oh, I love tall man too”, Nobara groans.

Little does she know who you’re talking about.

“Gimme more”, she insists.

Satoru didn’t mean to spy on you on his way to Utahime. But the second his ears caught the question that left Nobara’s mouth and your precious answer, he just had to position himself next to the door discretly.

“Tall, huh?”, he chuckles to himself as warmth spreads through his chest.

“Probably handsome as hell. But not like some random Calvin Klein model. No, he has to be special in a unique way. A man of his words, a man with an aim. Probably a man that is serious when needed while being humorous at the same time.”

“Hmm, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say your describing Gojo-sensei”, Yuji speaks out loud, making your face redden in an instant.

“Ew”, Nobara cries out.

“(y/n)-san is talking about someone like Chris Pratt you idiot!”

“Who is Chris Pratt?”

So this is how you see him? His heartbeat picks up in an instant just thinking about the way your cheeks probably turned red at Yuji’s comment. Even though you have absolutely no idea that he hears every word you say, you still describe nothing but him alone.

“Bust most importantly, I want a man who stands by my side, who protects me from everything and loves me more than anything else.”

Oh, he does. Not only that, he is absolutely mesmerized and captivated by you. Your smile lights up the room, your sweet voice makes every bad word sound like a prayer, your stunning face is like a drug.

And he’s definitely addicted.

“The only man who’s able to protect you here is Gojo-sensei”, Nobara remarks.

You let out a hearty laughter. Little does she know how right that is.

-Bonus-

“Hey darling, how was your day?”, your tender voice echoes through the living room while you make your way to your husband.

He waits patiently for you to kiss his forehead before giving you a dirty grin and pulling you onto his lap so suddenly that you scream out.

“What are you doing!?”, you shriek, voice shaking in laughter.

Was has gotten into him this evening? Why is he in such a good mood?

“Oh y’know, I’m a man of my words”, he replies, hands teasing you in the most delicate way.

You narrow your eyes while your cheeks start to burn. This sounds like your description of him in the morning. But how…? No, impossible. Not even Megumi would have told him. This must be a coincidence.

“Oh yeah?”, you challenge him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“And I’m tall.”

Your heart skips a beat when realization hits you.

“You spied on me!”, you cry out in revolt.

His hands begin a merciless tickle attack that leaves you gasping for air between shaky laughter, teary eyes and aching ribs.

“And I’m handsome as hell!”, he announces proudly.

“Stop the crap”, you giggle, body fighting against his cruel hands.

“You haven’t used such flattering words on me for a long time. I liked that”, he purrs against your ear.

His hands stop their attack and begin to caress your sensitive skin instead. You can’t catch your breath, eyes darted towards the man you adore so much, the man you married three years ago.

“You have to earn that first”, you breathe out.

“Oh, nothing better than that. After all, I can be serious when needed.”

Your face turns another shade of red in an instant while you playfully smack his shoulder and hide your face in embarrassment.

“Would you please stop saying that?”

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the endings

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. click here for game day (group) chapter.

⋆˙⟡ wc: member endings are ~1k each, group endings are less than 500 words each! (in total: ~5k)

⋆˙⟡ reader: no pronouns used for reader at all in any of the endings :)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ endings summary: choose your own ending! jiwoong, hao, matthew, hanbin, taerae, group (quasi-poly), and group (revenge) are all included. most are angst/fluff and some are suggestive.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: there is no smut in these endings, but they allude to smut that happened previously or suggest smut that would follow these endings. please, minors dni still with this post! member endings are all happy (with angst). revenge ending is also happy, depending on what makes you happy! lol.

I'M SO SAD IT'S OVER. writing the bully series was so much fun! thank you to the anon who suggested it in the first place a couple months ago and for everyone who has given positive feedback/input! i appreciate it so much. these endings are all crafted with so much love! let me know which one you love most. maybe i'll put a poll at the bottom lol. ily, catch you in the next series!!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

jiwoong 🎭

“so i’ll hand out these scripts and we’ll get started right away,” professor lee announces, walking around the room and handing out scripts for everyone’s assigned scenes. mina sits next to you as usual, except this week she’s staring daggers at jiwoong from across the room. you guess it beats her making googly eyes at him.

mina had called you last night to rant again about how much of a jerk “jiwoong-sshi” is. note the absence of the word “oppa”. you were sorry that he’d stood her up, but you knew what kind of a person he could be long before last week. 

and she unfortunately didn’t seem to care how much of a jerk jiwoong was when you were the one bearing the brunt of it.

but you don’t want to dwell on it. you’d just fucked him and four of his friends in the campus activities lounge and had no plans to tell her. she’d asked you how the “revenge” went, but you’d kept it all pretty vague. mina was no prude, but she might have the urge to gossip a bit with news as insane as that. you wouldn’t blame her if she did.

still, you didn’t regret what you did saturday. not even a little bit. in fact, it made you feel kind of proud every time you thought about it.

you spend all of class working on a scene with mina in which you play a really outrageous set of characters trying to escape arrest. it’s a role that you’ve never opted to take before— one that requires you to be bold, funny, and brave. 

professor lee praises you after you present it at the end of class. “excellent work. what’s gotten into you, (y/n)-sshi? whatever it is, let’s keep peeling back that shell!”

you smile with pride, eyes scanning the rest of the room until they happen to land on kim jiwoong.

he’s smiling, too.

when class ends, you pick your bag up off the floor and toss in your marked-up script. you’d normally throw it in the recycling bin, but you want to keep it this time. as a reminder of what you’re capable of when you’re sure of yourself.

mina giggles as you walk out the door together and into the hallway. “i’m surprised, but you really pulled that off!”

“i’m not.”

both of your heads whip around to find kim jiwoong leaning against the wall behind you.  

“you just needed some... encouragement,” he says with a smirk, but there’s a noticeable warmth in his eyes.

“and what exactly do you need in order to be able to show up to a commitment you made?” mina asks with a scowl. your eyes narrow at him, too.

“listen, i–... i’m really sorry, mina,” he responds sincerely. the fact that he even got her name right has you stifling a gasp— let alone the apology that prefaced it. “i shouldn’t’ve stood you up. that was mean. so i’m sorry.”

mina sucks in her cheek, looking at the ceiling as she considers his sentiment.

“but i actually have something else to apologize for, too,” he adds quickly, gaze moving back and forth between the both of you. “i... i wasn’t really interested in you in the first place. i was—... i used you. to get a reaction out of the person i’m actually interested in.”

his eyes meet yours. your lips part in shock at his sudden confession. you stare at him for a long moment, unspeaking until—

“AREYOUKIDDINGMEYOUABSOLUTEDICKOFAHUMANBEINGYOULIETOANDSTANDUPMYFRIENDANDLEAVEHERINFUCKINGTURMOILOVERYOUANDTHEN—.”

you glance over at mina, expecting to see tears running down her face but instead...

she’s grinning. from ear to ear. and not in a joker sort of way— just genuine happiness.

“i knew it,” she says, clasping her hands together in front of her face and jumping excitedly. “i KNEW it! i knew you both liked each other!”

“you—... what!?” you exclaim, eyes bugging at this bizarre turn of events. “what do you mean, ‘you knew we liked each other’!?”

“i’m also confused,” jiwoong says with a frown. “considering i didn’t really know until, like, yesterday.”

“well, i knew you were going to like each other. eventually,” she says with a nod. “you know, shy, quiet person and arrogant, attractive person trope. it’s destiny!”

“if you really thought that, then why did you wanna go out with him so bad?” you ask through furrowed brow.

“‘cause he’s hot. duh,” she says, shaking her head with a smile as if your question was very silly. “can you blame me for wanting a taste first?”

“well, if it’s just a taste we’re talking about—,” jiwoong starts to offer with a smirk.

“one more word and the only thing you’ll be tasting is—” you interject, balling your hand into a fist.

“aw, first lovers’ spat! i’ll leave you guys to it,” mina says quickly before sprinting off down the now-empty hall. 

you look down at your shoes awkwardly. “i have nothing else to say to you.”

“then, you won’t mind if i talk?” jiwoong asks, not waiting for a response to continue. “when hanbin made me start bullying you last year, i honestly didn’t want to. you were pathetic enough already without my help.”

“gee, thanks,” you reply with with a frown.

“but then i sort of started to have fun with it. the way you reacted was absolutely intoxicating. you made it all so rewarding— coming up with a new plan to drive you crazy every day,” he explains. “then last week, when we started that competition, i found a whole new way to drive you crazy. and i liked it a lot more.”

“this is the most convoluted apology i’ve ever received,” you remark with a sigh.

“after saturday, seeing you like that... you were far from pathetic. and it made me proud. i think, somewhere along the way, i just became really fond of you,” jiwoong confesses, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “and i also desperately want to buy you better clothes.”

“okay, i’m leaving now,” you announce, turning on your heel.

“what a coincidence. me too,” jiwoong says, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours as he starts to drag you with him down the hall. “you’re hungry, right?”

you start to protest, but as you look at his handsome side profile— dark hair covering the tips of his ears— you realize you are, in fact... hungry.

“starving,” you answer. 

he stops walking to look at you, eyes widening with surprise. “yeah? what would you like to eat then?”

staring at his lips, you can’t help but lick your own. “mina’s right, y’know.”

jiwoong’s head tilts, the corner of his lip upturning slowly as he registers your expression. “is she?”

“mhm,” you answer, pressing your lips to his. he responds quickly: soft, lazy, and stupidly addictive. you can’t believe you let him get away last week without kissing you. you could give him just one chance, couldn’t you? “but what she doesn’t know...”

he attaches your lips again, free hand cupping your jaw.

“is that one taste of you...”

jiwoong inhales sharply as you gently bite his bottom lip.

“just isn’t enough.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

hao 🎻

you rush into orchestra on tuesday, already five minutes late. unfortunately, your regular bus never showed at the stop. and then your back-up bus also never showed. which means you had to walk all the way to campus when you hadn’t planned to— your violin case in tow.

rehearsal having started already, you make a beeline for your seat and frantically open your violin case. luckily you’d warmed up your instrument before you’d left your house this week and your bow is ready to play when it hits the violin strings. 

or, it would be, if you didn’t just realize you forgot your sheet music.

“oh, for fucks sake,” you mumble, looking up at the sky and begging for the sweet release of death in this tragically embarrassing moment.

a soft creaking noise draws your attention to your left, where you find hao’s music stand is suddenly angled in your direction.

he doesn’t say anything or look at you. he just keeps playing. and so you follow the first chair’s lead.

rehearsal goes surprisingly well. you’re sure you managed to correct all of your mistakes from last week after being able to put more rosin on your bow.

“third and fourth chair are falling behind the tempo,” hao replies when professor ahn asks him for notes about the performance. your eyes widen when he names a violinist other than yourself that needs correcting. “it makes it harder for first and second chair to successfully introduce and complete the next movement.”

first and second chair? hao was voluntarily grouping you together?

professor ahn seems as surprised as you. she nods, writing down her own notes in the binder on her music stand. she waves her hand, dismissing the orchestra for the day. you clean your violin, getting it ready to be put back in its case as your classmates begin to file out of the orchestra room.

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor ahn calls suddenly from the doorway. your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of your name. “you actually played quite well today. i’ll assume it’s because you had the help of the concertmaster’s annotations. don’t be late again.”

you nod quickly, bowing your head respectfully to her. “thank you, professor-nim. i’ll play even better next time.”

you’re left alone with hao as usual, both cleaning your violins with the utmost care. when you finish, you place your instrument in its case before fishing around in the side pocket and pulling out something small.

hao locks his violin case, placing it sideways at his feet. finally, he looks at you.

you hold out the cake of rosin that he’d given you last week and told you to bring to your next rehearsal. you’d be remiss to notice that even though you didn’t show him until after class, he never told professor ahn that you’d stolen it like he threatened.

hao examines the rosin, completely ruined from what you’d both done with it. there was no cleaning it and you couldn’t use it if you tried.

you expect to catch some attitude, but, to your surprise, he smiles. “guess it couldn’t be salvaged, huh?”

“guess not,” you agree with a shrug. “at least you got some use out of it.”

“mm,” he hums after a moment before reaching down and reopening his violin case delicately. his hand disappears into one of the side pockets and pulls out a fresh cake of his premium rosin.

and then he hands it to you.

you stare at it in your palm, wide-eyed. “w-what are you—”

“you’re a pretty decent violinist,” hao says matter-of-factly. “sometimes— not often— but sometimes i feel like you have the potential to be almost as good as me. but you’ll never reach it if you don’t start using higher quality products to care for your instrument.”

“oh,” you reply, brow furrowing as he locks up his violin again. “so you’ve decided to take pity on me now?”

he smirks. “something like that.”

“i guess it’s better than pure hatred,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you tuck the box of rosin into your own violin case.

“i never hated you,” hao says with a frown. you sit back up, lips parting as your eyes meet his. “i didn’t particularly like you, but i only told professor ahn about the mistakes you were making because they were careless. you always came in the next week with those same mistakes completely perfected.”

“so you were motivating me through public shame?” you clarify, one brow piqued in disbelief. 

“doing whatever it takes to improve the sound of the orchestra is what sets a great concertmaster apart from a mediocre one,” he explains, deciding to paint himself as a misunderstood martyr. 

“oh, i’m sure it was so difficult for you to step up and take one from the team,” you mock, a laugh escaping you at hao’s audacity. “do you hear what you’re saying? you’re so fucking full of yourself. who gave you the right to play god and—?”

hao leans in, connecting his lips to yours mid-rant. your breath hitches in disbelief as he pulls back.

“would you be mad if i said i wanna get to know you better?” he asks, hand resting on your thigh.

you look down at his long fingers on your soft skin. “furious,” is what you answer.

he presses his lips together in a hopeless smile. “i’ll take it that means you don’t feel the same way then.”

“you always think you know everything about everything,” you huff, grabbing his hand in yours and bringing it further up your thigh. “but you don’t. so i guess you will have to get to know me better if you wanna keep being an insufferable know-it-all.”

as soon as a smile appears on hao’s face, it’s replaced by the cutest frown. “i’m sad now.”

“why?” you ask, not sure how your answer could’ve possibly made him sad when it was the one he wanted.

“i took for granted how absolutely fucking adorable you are when you’re angry,” he whines, a disheartened little pout on his pretty lips. “kind of makes me wish i could keep making you angry from time to time.”

you blink at him, looking around awkwardly as a reluctant smile grows on your face. “i mean—... i guess i’d have to worry about my playing skills suffering if you stop completely. that wouldn’t be very responsible of concertmaster-nim.”

“no, it wouldn’t,” he replies, biting his lip in a smirk. you’re fully aware of what this title does to him. “so what should i do to keep you playing well?”

you look up at the ceiling, considering your options. “maybe you could see what other things in the music room fit up my—” “that’s depraved,” hao scolds, shaking his head at you in shock before a grin peeks through. “are you free right now?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

matthew 💪

with three weeks left of your soccer unit in phys. ed, you braced for an awkward class on wednesday. as you wait outside in the warm, spring breeze with your classmates, you waited anxiously for matthew to show up.

he doesn’t. 

coach yang blows his whistle, signaling for you to form a straight line in front of him. luckily one of your classmates asks the question for you.

“coach-nim! where’s matthew hyung?” the younger boy asks in front of you. “we wanted to talk to him about the game.”

“ah, matthew-sshi is on a strict regimen of weight-training and cardio until the championship,” coach yang answers with a sigh. a little quieter, he adds, “and maybe that’ll teach him to stay in line.”

maybe, you think. maybe not.

it’s a surprisingly pleasant p.e. class. your classmates are respectful, giving you as much grace during the game as possible. your sunbaenim from your calc class even pushes you behind him when a ball comes a bit too quickly towards your face.

“thanks,” you say with a smile.

he smiles back. “don’t mention it.”

this class sure was different when someone wasn’t trying to kill you the whole time. that being said, you’re pretty disappointed that matthew isn’t here. you can’t help but wonder how he would’ve treated you today after saturday night.

when class is over, coach yang hands you a hose, some rags and a ball trolley. he still can’t look you in the eye after what happened. “here’s your supplies. shouldn’t take you more than an hour.”

you nod ashamedly, getting to work right away.

“and a word of advice,” coach yang adds over his shoulder. “don’t be afraid to put him in his place from time to time. you played well today without him. it’s nice to see you have some more confidence, (y/n)-sshi. good luck.”

the last thing you were expecting today was a pep talk from coach yang. you walk over to the right side of the field and pick up a muddy, grass-stained ball and bring it over to the hose. washing it thoroughly and buffing any stains with a rag, you drop it into the ball trolley and make your way to the back of the field to retrieve a couple more.

you grab one from behind the goal, turning around to fetch the other one. but as you do, you come face to face with matthew— tossing the ball gently back and forth between his hands.

“hi,” he greets shyly. 

your lips press together in an awkward smile. “hi.”

he doesn’t say anything else for a moment, so you brush past him— bringing your ball back to the hose. he follows behind you quietly, placing his soccer ball on the ground beside yours. you pick up the hose and douse them both in the cold water.  matthew picks up a rag and kneels down on the ground next to you, buffing the soccer ball you’d brought over.

you pick up the one he brought over, doing the same. “that one was mine.”

his eyes widen, holding out the ball to you wordlessly in an attempt to give it back.

you can’t help but laugh. “i was just kidding.”

“right,” he replies with a nod, returning to cleaning the ball. “sorry.”

you raise one eyebrow at him quizzically. “are you okay?”

“hm?” he asks before nodding quickly. “oh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“are you sure?” you question further. “because this is my punishment and you’re helping me when you should be getting ready for practice.”

matthew shrugs. “it was my fault.”

“it absolutely was,” you agree, tossing your soccer ball into the trolley. “and you got away with it scot-free.”

suddenly, matthew’s hand reaches toward your forehead— thumb brushing over the tiny scar from where the ball he kicked had scraped your skin. “i shouldn’t have.”

well this is... new. matthew taking accountability for his actions? you never thought you’d see the day.

“i—... um...” he stutters, starting to pick at the grass in front of him. “i think i should probably be punished. for that. and for a lot of things.”

oh.

so he’d really liked it.

“oh. should i tell coach yang to—,” you play dumb, starting to stand up like you’re about to march right into his office yourself. 

“NO! ... no. no,” matthew grabs your hand, keeping you seated next to him. he bites his lip, clearly embarrassed by what he’s about to say. “want you to do it.”

“huh,” you reply with frown. “i thought you didn’t really prefer people who were tainted.”

“you aren’t tainted,” he says, shaking his head. “that—... that was really immature of me to say. and gross. and i’m... i’m sorry.”

you look at him for a long moment, studying his eyes to see if he’s being genuine or not. there’s no obvious signs of lying. he’s very nervous, but it’s not because he’s being untruthful. maybe it’s because he finally is.

“and i can also assume that you said sorry to the waterboy?” you ask, pressing your lips together in an attempt to not laugh at his panicked expression. “and that defense player on the other team? actually, you should probably just draft a mass apology and send it to every university team you’ve ever played against. it would save some time.”

matthew nods sullenly. “yeah. i can do that.”

you have to admit, you like matthew quite a bit when he’s like this. he’s agreeable, apologetic, and distressingly adorable.

“i appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” you reply, patting him on the shoulder gently. “i think... maybe... we could make this work.”

matthew’s eyes light up at this. “really? you’d wanna keep doing... this?”

you smile. “yeah. it doesn’t sound so bad, now that you’re being nice to me.”

matthew smiles with embarrassment, avoiding your gaze. “i guess i should’ve tried this approach last year. but i—... have you ever heard of alpha male podcasts?”

“matthew,” you groan, palm flying to your forehead in disbelief. “you’re gonna unsubscribe from every single one of those, okay?”

he nods frantically. “of course. they didn’t get me anything anyway, except a light ‘roid addiction.”

“do not tell anyone that, oh my god,” you reprimand, hitting his thigh. “you’re also gonna throw all of that out immediately.

“ah, it was so expensive though,” he winces, tilting his head as he weighs the consequences. “can’t i sell them instead?”

“JUST GET RID OF—,” you shout, cutting yourself off when matthew suddenly leans over and kisses your cheek.

he grins. “you’re so beautiful when you’re disappointed in me.”

“you’re—... you—...” you stutter until matthew leans in again, pressing his lips to yours this time. he pulls back, leaving your brain hazy. “please don’t be so mean to me again.”

he shakes his head decisively. “i won’t. i promise.”

you smile, stomach fluttering as he beams at you. 

“but, like... you’re okay with being mean to me sometimes, right?” matthew asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“oh, absolutely,” you answer with a nod. “i’ll start now.”

he laughs passively, obviously interpreting this as a joke. “sure, sure.”

you stand up, hovering your foot over his crotch. “finish cleaning these soccer balls. now.”

matthew’s eyes widen with fear, hopping to his feet immediately, bowing his head to you, and sprinting off to the end of the field to complete his task.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

hanbin 📝

“hanbin-ah!” you shout, running down the dimly-lit, empty hallway. how far could he have made it in the few minutes since he’d stormed out of the activities lounge without so much as a word. 

“hanbin-ah...”

a banging down the hallway to your right seems to signal his location. you turn down it, running until you reach the end and a long hall of public lockers unfolds before you. to your left is a very distraught hanbin, clanging his locker door about as he holds a small book in his hands.

the floor is littered with torn up pieces of paper, that seem to be coming from the book he’s holding.

“FUCK,” he yells, ripping out another page from the book and crumpling it up— tossing it onto the ground, where it lands at your feet.

you bend down and pick it up, carefully unfolding it and reading what’s written:

what the fuck does (y/n) see in junseo hyung-nim? i thought that poem was for me. could (y/n) really choose him over me? is he better than me? i don’t understand. what did i do wrong?

it’s a diary entry— your name, mentioned twice. the confession contained in it sends a chill down your spine. hanbin had posted your poem about junseo sunbaenim out of spite.

out of jealousy?

you pick up another crumpled paper and unfold it, reading:

i just hung up all the copies of the poem around campus. i got the other guys in on it, too. maybe this’ll teach you not to take people for granted. maybe it’ll keep you thinking about me.

hanbin throws his empty journal across the hallway, sitting down on the ground with his back against a locker as he runs a hand through his hair in distress.

you walk over to him cautiously, standing in front of him and waiting until he looks up at you. you hold out the pieces of paper from his journal and drop them on his lap. “so you decided to ruin my life because you couldn’t have me?”

hanbin reads the writing on the crumpled papers, tears suddenly spilling over and streaming down his cheeks. he wipes them away as quickly as they come. his chin dimples up with sadness. it reminds you of something...

you look in his locker, finding his messenger bag and opening the flap. you dig around gently until your hand wraps around it.

you sit down next to hanbin, back against a locker as you place the little, plush hamster in his lap. he stares at it for a long moment before finally picking it up in his hand and giving it a gentle squish. a tear falls onto the hamster’s nose.

“you found this the other day?” he says, rubbing the back of his hand across his cheeks again.

you nod. “he’s cute.”

hanbin smiles. “i was hoping you’d think that.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, a confused pout forming on your lips.

“i was hoping you’d think he was cute,” he says, running his thumb over the hamster’s fur, “when i bought it for you.”

“what?”

“on the class trip to the national library last year,” he continues. “we sat next to each other on the bus and you pulled three plushies out of your bag like it was the most normal thing ever. and you told me all their names and what they wanted to be when they grew up.”

“hanbin-ah...”

“and we took those polaroids of each other outside on the grass. and ate kimbap at the picnic table in the garden. and ran around together finding the weirdest books we could. and then, in the giftshop, they had a bunch of cute plushies themed off of children’s books and...” hanbin rambles wistfully. “and i bought this one for you while you weren’t looking.”

“hanbinnie, i’m so sorry,” you interject truthfully. you see the full picture now and you never had before. “i shouldn’t’ve been so oblivious as to make you feel like i was leading you on, but i was. and i never should’ve told you about that poem in the first place. i’m sorry.”

he blinks back at you before shaking his head adamantly. “it’s— it’s not your fault.”

“but i hurt your feelings,” you assert, meeting his gaze. “and i never wanted to do that. you were my first friend i made at university. actually, you’re the only friend i’ve made at university. how pathetic is that?”

he shakes his head again, brow furrowing sadly. “it’s not. it’s—... it’s my fucking fault that that happened. it’s... it’s all my fault.”

“hanbinnie, it’s—... it’s okay, you—,” you try to alleviate his burden, like the moral person you are.

“no, don’t do that. don’t say it’s okay, because it’s not,” hanbin asserts, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. “i made you share something you didn’t want to. and i betrayed your trust. and i—... fucking—... all because i couldn’t handle my own emotions?”

you chew your cheek nervously. “listen, it’s okay—.”

“you’re the nicest person on the fucking planet if you can sit here and say that’s okay,” he says, a sad laugh escaping him. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but... i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to fully express to you how sorry i am.”

you don’t respond, stunned by hanbin’s genuine apology. 

“i could try, though, if you want me to,” he blathers on anxiously. “i could write a hundred thousand words worth of apologies and you could rip them all up and make me start again and—.”

“he looks like you,” you interject suddenly.

he frowns. “hm?”

“the hamster,” you clarify, holding out your hand. eyes wide, hanbin places the hamster in your palm. “he looks a lot like you.”

hanbin doesn’t say anything, his eyes trained on the side of your face as you squish the little plush. 

“it’s funny, actually,” you hold the hamster up for him to see. “looking at this hamster and trying to be mad at him is a lot like how it feels when i look at you.”

eyes still wide, hanbin’s bottom lip finds its way between his teeth— not sure how to answer to your overwhelming mercy.

“you’re right. that wasn’t okay,” you say as you bring the hamster to your lips, giggling after you give him a little peck. “but this is okay.”

“this?” he repeats.

“doesn’t this feel pretty nice?” you pose, eyes locking with his. “us getting along?”

hanbin nods slowly. “yeah. it does.”

“what do you say we continue this?” you ask with a smile. “indefinitely.”

“i—...” he stutters as a smile grows on his lips as well. “i’d really like that.”

“me too,” you agree, eyes abruptly narrowing. “but it’ll cost you.”

his brow raises, swallowing hard at your words. “absolutely. anything. name your price.”

you hold up the hamster to the side of your face, doing your best to mimic his little expression. “i want him.”

if hanbin’s eyes could turn to cartoon love hearts, they would. but because he’s a human person, his pupils simply dilate. “you—... i—... he’s yours. he was always yours.”

you grin, giving the hamster a hug. “thanks.”

“thank you,” he says, still reeling from your cuteness. “i’ll miss him, but he’s where he belongs now.”

“maybe you can visit him sometimes,” you offer, biting your lip shyly. “you’re clearly his biological father, after all. i’m sure your presence in his life is nothing less than enriching.”

he laughs. “some father i am. i didn’t even manage to give him a name.”

you smile. “he has a name.”

hanbin tilts his head curiously. “he does?”

you nod. “his name is binnie. jr.”

his cheeks turn red at this suggestion. “really? you want to name him after me?”

you don’t answer. instead, you ask softly, “hanbinnie?”

“yeah?” he replies eagerly.

“do you...” you start, finding the confidence to finish your question. “do you still like me?”

hanbin’s breath hitches in his throat. “um...”

“it’s okay if you don’t,” you assure with a sigh. “i just... a year ago, i didn’t even know someone like you would be interested in me. you’re so handsome. and smart. and the soccer team’s star player. i never even considered the possibility that you felt that way about me. but now, i—... i have more confidence. maybe you accidentally gave it to me, but i have it nonetheless.”

he looks at you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“and i think i realized that... i want you to like me,” you confess. “i wanted you to like me the whole time. i just didn’t want to admit it because i was afraid it was too much to ask for. and i—.”

“(y/n),” hanbin interjects with the fondest smile imaginable. “i like you so much i think my chest might explode.”

you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. neither can he. hanbin brings his hand to cup your jaw, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

“oh and i’m sorry i fucked all your friends right in front of your face,” you say, pulling back momentarily.

hanbin laughs, shrugging it off. “i totally deserved it. and... it was pretty hot.”

“keep kissing me,” you request with a smile.

“don’t have to tell me twice.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

taerae 🎤

after a completely bizarre session of portraits and quotes for the campus newspaper, the boys all awkwardly grab their things and head out the door. as you place your clipboard and pen on the activities director’s desk, you see a familiar backpack shoved behind a chair. you forgot you’d stashed taerae’s bag and phone in here when he didn’t come back for it on friday.

you walk over to it, picking it up off of the floor and slinging it over your shoulder. you shut off the lights, walking down the hallway until you spot your former best friend— sitting alone on the entrance steps to kang hall in the spring night air.

you plop yourself down next to him, placing his bag on the step in front of him. he turns to you, eyes red and watery.

“oh, tae,” you whisper, head falling instinctively to his shoulder. 

“why’re you comforting me?” he asks with a sniffle. “you should be punching me in the face or something.”

“would you prefer it?” you joke, trying to get him to smile. “because i can absolutely just—.”

“this is good,” he says with a breathy laugh.

“good,” you affirm, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i love you.”

“(y/n),” taerae seems to plead. “i can’t—.”

“i love you,” you repeat. “and i miss you so much.”

“i—...” he stumbles verbally, but grabs your hand in his. “i—.”

“when did you lose your virginity?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. 

he gulps. “uh... a couple years ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?” you question, a little hurt that he’d kept this big news a secret from you even when you were still friends. “to who?”

taerae shakes his head anxiously. “it’s not that important.”

“oh, come on,” you urge, squeezing his hand. “i told you i lost mine to sungchan oppa during that pool party at mina’s dad’s house.”

he flinches at this. “i remember.”

“it was that same pool party where you threw up in the pool,” you say with a smirk. “an eventful night for both of us.”

“mhm,” taerae mumbles shortly. he was definitely growing more bothered with each mention of that party.

“and to think, a couple of years later we’d do what we just did,” you muse in an attempt to dig something more out of him. “we’ve come so far from you throwing up in the pool at the thought of kissing me.”

“i never said that!” taerae exclaims with frustration. “you said that. and i just... went with it.”

you shake your head, brow furrowing confusedly. “then why did you throw up?”

“because—... because i was nervous,” he says softly. “i was so nervous to kiss you that i threw up in mina’s dad’s pool and then i was so embarrassed that i couldn’t even open my mouth to deny that i was disgusted by the thought of kissing you.”

you blink at him in shock. “did—... did you have feelings for me?”

after a long moment, he nods. but there’s more tension lingering under the surface. you know there’s more that needs to be said.

“i really liked you,” taerae confesses softly. “i never wanted to weird you out or anything, but i just liked you from the first day i met you. i loved being your friend, but i just couldn’t help it. when you told me at that party that you’d hooked up with sungchan hyung... i just got so jealous. i thought i could be cool about it, but i was drunk and...”

your eyes are wide, clinging onto his every word.

“and i hooked up with someone, too,” he admits with a pained expression. “i thought it might be the only way to make you jealous back, so i—... i—...”

you hold your breath.

“i hooked up with mina!” he exclaims quickly, looking down at his lap in shame.

“YOU WHAT!?” you scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look you in the eyes. “that’s not fucking funny!”

“i know it’s not,” he replies despairingly. “i regretted it instantly afterwards. no— while it was happening. i was so disgusted with myself. i hated lying to you, but i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. i thought i wouldn’t have to until last year, when hanbin hyung came up to me in the hallway after class.”

your brow furrows at the mention of hanbin’s name.

“he said he knew what i’d done with mina. apparently he had a few friends that went to the party,” he explains sadly. “and that if i didn’t do exactly what he told me to, that he’d tell you what i did and he’d make things even worse for you. i just couldn’t let either of those things happen.”

“how—... how did you even manage to bag mina?” you ask in a daze.

“well, i mean,” taerae grimaces. “it’s mina.”

“she’s a total slut,” you nod, catching on immediately. “more power to her.”

“the most power to her,” taerae agrees quickly. 

“why didn’t she tell me?” you wonder.

“oh, that one’s easy,” taerae answers with a shrug. “she said she’d rather die than let anyone know we slept together.”

“that sounds like mina,” you affirm. so the truth was out. it’s hard to wrap your head around everything all at once, but you were definitely relieved that taerae didn’t actually hate you. he was just an idiot.

“i’m so sorry, (y/n),” he apologizes genuinely. “for everything.”

you sigh heavily. “i’m sorry, too.”

taerae’s eyes widen in surprise. “what do you mean? you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“i’m sorry i bragged to you about losing my virginity. i could’ve been more sensitive with that information,” you reply. “and i’m sorry that i said you threw up in the pool, because you didn’t want to kiss me and never asked you what the truth was. i could’ve been more considerate of my best friend.”

“i love you,” taerae says abruptly. “being without you this year was literally the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you nod in affirmation. “let’s never do it again.”

“never,” he agrees with a wide, dimpled grin. that smile you missed so much. you watch it fade naturally, replaced by a fond gaze. but you desperately want to see it again.

so you do the only thing that you can.

you kiss him.

he pulls back after a moment, that perfect grin shining back at you. it’s enough to light up the night sky. 

“i know i was using the past tense before, but,” taerae says, biting his lip. “i still really like you.”

you smile, pulling him back in to meet your lips again. “prove it.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

group (poly) 🥵

you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.

"so, uh," jiwoong starts, scratching the back of his neck. "are we gonna do those interviews now?"

you shrug. "you can just text me a quote, if you want. probably easier actually."

they all agree nonverbally, the uncomfortable haze still lingering in the air.

"you can also text me about when you'll be free again," you add, the boys heads turning rapidly to look at you.

"uh... which one of us?" matthew asks with a frown.

you shrug. “whoever’s down.”

“you—… you wanna do this again?” hao asks, lips parted in shock.

“why not?” you answer honestly. “i had fun. but if you’re not into it, that’s okay too.”

“i’m into it!” hao replies a bit too quickly. “i just meant that… i didn’t know you would be.”

“i guess before last week, someone would’ve had a hard time convincing me that i’d wanna do this once— let alone twice,” you admit with a smile. “but i think i’ve proved i changed.”

“and you’re okay with… changing?” taerae asks, worry in his eyes.

you nod definitively. “yeah. i am.”

“so, after all this, you’ve decided you just wanna fuck all of us whenever you want?” hanbin asks, standing up from the desk he’s sitting on and walking over to you. “you really think you’re hot enough for that?”

you smile at him. “no one’s forcing you to participate.”

hanbin frowns, studying you as you hold eye contact.

“don’t be too upset, hanbinnie,” you say with a pout. “you’re the one who wanted me to fuck your friends in the first place. you just forgot to consider i might end up really liking it.”

he stares at you for another long moment. and then, he smiles. “i guess you’ve won your own game then?”

you smile back. “i guess i have.”

“then i have to pay the price, fair and square. we all do,” hanbin nods with respect— an undeniable warmth in his gaze. “congratulations.”

you look at the other boys around you— excitement reaching their eyes as you grin. were they really all yours now?

“thanks,” you say happily. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”

˚　　　　✦　���　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

group (revenge) 😈

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.

"hey, is that camera on?" jiwoong suddenly asks, pointing at the camera you set up by the photo wall to take portraits for the campus activities interviews.

at least, that's why you told them you set it up.

"there's a little red flashing light," hao observes with a frown. "to the left of the lens."

"did—... did you record this?" matthew asks, fear palpable in his eyes as he looks at you.

you hop off the desk you're sitting on, grabbing your shorts and shimmying them on. walking over to the camera, you hit the record button again to stop filming. then you, take the camera off it's tripod and throw it in your bag that's sitting on the ground beside it.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you boys," you say, making your way towards the door.

hanbin stands up, grabbing your shoulder. "what are you gonna do with that?"

you shrug. "nothing."

his brow furrows tensely, not sure whether to relax or not.

"yet," you finish.

"(y/n), please," taerae begs from behind you. "please don't post that."

"i'm not gonna post it," you say, rolling your eyes. "i'm in the video, too, remember?"

the boys look around at each other, not sure what to do.

"but if i have to," you threaten, unlocking the door, "i won't hesitate. could anything be worse than what you've already put me through?"

"wait, (y/n)!" jiwoong calls. "we're—... we're sorry. we're all really sorry for everything."

"i'm sure you are," you reply, opening the door and exiting the activities lounge...

"i'm sure you'll stay sorry for a long time, too."

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

I was rereading Double Cursed and I had a Thought. So in 2012 Stan would obviously still make the 'get through half the summer without the kids learning about the whole cat thing'. Would Ford make the same bet? Cuz he turns into a wolf (objectively a cool, powerful creature(trust him, hes a scientist, he's done studies)). Cuz on the one hand, its so much harder to hide when he has to be directly invited everywhere. But on the other hand its tresspassing. If he just stays home for a month and a half he's in the clear

Ford very much makes the same bet, and in a 'anything you can do i can do better' sibling move declares he can go the whole summer without the kids knowing. Its much easier to hide his curse after all, how hard can it be to go a few months without getting caught?

This just leads to the kids thinking he's a vampire, and then him coming up with more and more convoluted reasons they cant go on expeditions with him. He can't risk them finding out on accident, and he refuses to get caught out before Stan. Not What He Seems would be his reveal episode, and the kids would be outraged that they had not one, but two animal shifting Grunkles and everyone lied about it!

Stan didn't reveal him due to honor reasons, and as for why they don't know there's a whole wolf hanging around the house:

Dipper: Why do you guys have so much dog stuff? you don't have a dog?

Ford, ready with an explanation that their dog is just very shy: You see-

Stan: He died.

Kids: What!

Stan, fake tears in his eyes: yup! Happened just before you got here. Old Wolfy was getting up their in years and finally passed. He was Lee's best friend, and the poor cat hasnt been the same since.

Mabel: Grunkle Stan i'm so sorry.

Stan: Its fine, its fine, he was very old

Ford: Stanley-

Stan: ancient you could say

Ford: Stanley please-

Stan: An old man, hanging on as long as he could, before finally he let go. Right in front of that car.

Kids: OH MY GOD?

Ford: STANLEY?!

Ford gloats that he did manage to hold out longer than Stan, while Stan gloats that at least he almost made it to the end goal. Ford was a whole month out. The kids are upset that they could have had wolf rides this whole time and going on cool forest adventures with their grunkles!

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

how about possessive jealous slightly mean dom jinnie 🥰

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader Word count: 1.05k Genre: Smut 🔥❤️ Warning: Err I didn't proofread MY FAULT, rough sex, hair pulling, Hyunjin still cares when he's angry at you, possessive themes, Hyunjin is jealous. thats abt it >.>

Hyunjin wasn't a jealous man, not often anyway, but this was outrageous, there's no way you'd gone out with Minho just for shopping at noon, it was well past 11 almost 12 pm, and you still weren't back. He lied in the bed alone and called you again.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang.

Then the automated voice announced you as unavailable.

Hyunjin grit his teeth, what type of crap was Lee Know pulling here? Borrowing you to go shopping, and staying out this late...?

Hyunjin wanted to scream. Then he heard the door opening, he sat up.

You came into the room, carrying a bunch of bags on your arms and smiled gently. "Hyunjinnie."

He made a face, "Where were you?"

You gave him a confused look. "I went out shoppi-"

"Until 11?" He gave you a look of disbelief. "y/n."

You pursed your lips. "Sorry." You huffed setting down the bags and walking into your shared bathroom.

Hyunjin stood up from the bed. "You can't be brushing me off right now."

"Who said I'm brushing you off?" You looked over your shoulder at him as you brushed your hair.

"y/n."

"Hyunjin." You glared at him.

He rolled his eyes and went back to bed, seeing no use arguing with you.

After about ten minutes you joined him in an oversized t-shirt and panties, facing away from him hugging your pillow and looking at your phone.

Hyunjin glanced at you and tried to touch you, he propped himself up on his elbow and bristled. You were texting Minho. Against his better judgement, he grabbed your phone.

You sprang up in a hot rage about to go off on him for being like this tonight but he kissed you hard, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth before you could protest.

"Why are you talking to him?" He asked, his voice a low husky sound.

"Minho wa-"

"Why were you talking to him?" Hyunjin's eyes narrowed.

"Hyun- OH!" You gasped as he pinned you down suddenly.

"First you stay out late, then you brush me off, now you're texting him?" He pulled your underwear off and his thumb found your clit. "Tell me huh? Can Minho make you feel like this?"

You moaned and jerked at the sudden stimulus, trying to get away for him. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them over your head, it wasn't too harsh, he was giving you opportunity to stop, but you didn't stop him.

He rubbed your clit making you moan and gasp. His grip on your wrist tightened as you tried to jerk away. "Huh? What's wrong?" He asked teasingly.

"T-too much!" You squealed as he applied more pressure to your clit.

"Oh?" He released your hands and moved to be eye level with your sex. "It looks fine to me."

"Hyunj-"

He shoved a finger into you, "Sucking in my finger so desperately, you're wishing it was my dick aren't you?"

You squirm. "No-"

"We're lying now?" He removed his hand from you and licked his fingers, "Open." he brought his finger to your mouth and you opened obediently. He smiled as you sucked on his finger tongue running around the digit, "Good. Minho can't make you do that can he?"

You shook your head, whining softly as Hyunjin pulled his finger out of your mouth.

"Pity." he sighed before grabbing your thighs he lifted them over his shoulders before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

Your hands flew to his hair and tugged hard, pulling an animalistic sound from his lips, you bucked as the sound vibrated through your core. You felt the knot in your core tightening, you were getting closer, he slipped two fingers into you and curled them to find your g-spot. You squirmed and moaned out, about to release.

And he pulled away, smiling.

You sat up in a hot rage about to choke him. "Hwang Hyunj- AH!"

He flipped you onto your belly and kissed the side of your neck gently. "Stay like this, hm? Be my good girl?" You peeked over your shoulder to see him pulling down his pants just enough to get out his dick.

You gasped as he pulled your arms back.

"Tell me if it hurts." He kissed you gently before slamming into hard forcing a choked squeal from your throat. "So loud." He pushed you down, forcing your back to arch, "Don't want to wake the neighbors, keep it down." He pulled out slowly and thrust into you again, his balls slapping against your clit. You gasped and squirmed under him as he steadily picked up the pace as he started fucking into your roughly.

"Hyunnie! Hyunjin! M- I- p-please!" You moaned and gasped.

"Huh?" He grabbed your hair. "I can't quite understand you, sweet girl. Repeat that?"

You tried formulating the sentence in your head but you couldn't even think of words, Hyunjin lifted your shirt and squeezed your tit.

"What's wrong?" He simpered. "Little slut can't talk anymore? My dick hitting you just right, huh?"

You nodded and cried as he fucked you, bed creaking under your combined weight. "Hyunjin!"

"Are you going to stay out again with some idiot?"

You shake your head. "No. No. Please!"

He released you and let you fall to the bed, grabbing your hips with bruising force, he pulled you back against him, groaning loudly as he hit your cervix. "You're mine, right? This pussy belongs to me."

You nod, "Uh huh! Yours!"

"My sweet girl wants to cum?" His hand reached around and started rubbing at your clit.

"Please!" You moaned loudly.

"Cum for me." He whispered, licking the shell of your ear.

"Mph- Hyunnie!" Your body stiffened, your vision going white, a broken moan escaping your throat.

Hyunjin groaned loudly, his hips stuttering before he shoved himself in deep and came hard inside you letting out a feral sound.

You trembled, pussy spasming around Hyunjin's softening cock.

"Didn't hurt you did I?" He asked quietly, pulling out and rolling off you.

You shook your head no and rolled onto your back.

He grabbed you and pulled you close.

"You're hot when you're jealous..." You muttered.

"Who said I was jealous?" He glanced at you, rolling his eyes.

You giggled.

"Don't do that again." He whispered kissing your hair.

[jjjjeonww]

lee dokyeom - "touch grass dude"

featuring lee seokmin and you.

~~in which, seokmin's a bit too in love with you, so you gotta pull out the 'touch some grass dude' a/n: FOR MY LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY KAEEEE @kyeomviiee !! i've had this in my drafts for a while now and i didn't know what to do with it until you slipped into my life <33 love you you cutie patootie!

.. seokmin gazed at you with those intense, soulful eyes that seemed to see right through to your very core. he had always been a bit... much, but you loved him for it, for the way his emotions wore on his sleeve, raw and unfiltered. as you sat together on the couch, his hand resting on your thigh, you couldn't help but grin mischievously.

"you know, seokmin," you said teasingly, batting your eyelashes at him. "you've been cooped up in here all day. why don't you actually go outside and touched some grass, dude?"

seokmin blinked, taken aback by your sudden comment. he looked at you, his brow furrowed in confusion, before bursting out laughing. "touch some grass? is that really what you're worried about right now?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours. "i don't need to touch grass or go outdoors. can't i spend more time with you?"

you giggled, pushing him playfully on the chest. "come on, drama queen. i'm serious! you need some fresh air and a change of scenery. it's not healthy to be so... attached."

seokmin pouted, but you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "would you rather i spend time and become attached to soonyoung and somehow become a tiger too?"

you rolled your eyes, "ugh no... i just don't want people to think someone's stalking me because of you being with me 24/7."

he gasped in mock outrage, placing a hand over his heart. "i am not a stalker! i'm just a man deeply, desperately in love. there's a difference," he declared solemnly, before breaking into a grin. "but don't worry, i'll try to control myself. for you."

and with that, he stood up, pulling you up with him. together, you headed out the door, ready to face the world hand in hand. You knew his love was intense, to other people; maybe even a little unhealthy at times, but it was real. and that was enough for you. that was everything. "wait babe, its midnight. it's scary out here." seokmin hid behind you and when he heard a laugh he immediately pulled you back into your apartment. (it was just the neighbour's tv volume...)

[shewrites02]

Forgive Me if I break You | Zoro x Reader | Part II

Part I Part III Part IIII

Trigger warnings: Domestic assault, Alcohol, verbal abuse , physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence. THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT ! MINORS DNI !

*THERE IS A GRAPHIC DEPECTION OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IN THE FIRST FLASHBACK, IF NOT COMFORTABLE PLEASE SKIP. (the last line is the most important anyway)*

A/N: Thank you for all the support I've gotten at the start of this series, I was so nervous no one would be interested lol. I hope this part lives up to your expectations.

Request: Open

Word count: 5K

Leave a comment if you enjoy :)

The cold of the ice pack stings against your cheek, almost as much as the insults lodged in your throat with nowhere to go. Harshly, you swallow them down, having to reacclimate to the taste of stifled feelings. Almost completely forgotten in those two months.

You're in your shared bedroom, sitting in Lee's lap. Your head lays against his chest. With how tenderly he stroked your hair, you're almost able to imagine care in his touch. Pretend it is the swordsman who caresses you so tenderly. Lee places a soft kiss to your cheek, laying his head against yours.

"I'm sorry, y/n ... I didn't mean to lose my temper." He coos. In the past six months he never came up with any other excuse. Always an apology then an explanation of why it was your fault.

"It's jus’- you embarrassed me in front of our guests, interrupting me like that. You know I hate when you do that- and that fucking swordsman clearly has feelings for you."

Lee is almost completely lost in his rambling, and you think for a moment you will get relief from this puppet show he has forced you into. But the mention of Zoro has you going stiff.

"It's disgusting. a lowlife pirate thinking he can have what is mine. I forbid you from seeing him, do you understand?"

"Yes dear." you respond.

As if the swordsman wanted anything to do with you now. Not after what you've done to him- not after he has seen how pathetic you are. The future world's best swordsman deserves more than someone like you.

"I'm so glad you're home." Lee pivots. "I can't believe I thought you left me-"

Lee lets out a chuckle as though the thought is inconceivable. In spite of your rigidness, the chief takes a deep breath to relax into the headboard. Each chuckle that leaves his mouth tightens your shackles. Reaffirming what you already know- you aren't going anywhere.

"Is that what happened to the countryside?"  You ask meekly. Fearful of the answer, but so desperate for the truth.  "Did you burn the lemon grove to punish me?"

"... Yes."

Tears swell in your eyes as you pull away to look at the merciless man in front of you. A man who would bathe in your blood with no remorse. So desperate for your obedience he is willing to strip the last memories of your mother away from you as punishment . Did not need proof of your transgressions, his outrage evidence enough to justify his actions.

The chief uses the edge of his thumb to swipe the shallow tears brimming in your eyes.

"We can replant all of them my love, even more, now that you are home. "He lets his thumb sweep over your cheek and lips before he draws away.

Still he wears no semblance of remorse. No guilt or shame for what he's done. For the villagers - his people- homes destroyed in the crossfire of his rage. Couldn't care less about the massive amounts of  nature he burned to ash in the name of revenge. Their  forfeiture was a consequence of your decision to act so selfishly.  It was all your fault-

Why should the chief feel apologetic?

"And the villagers?"

Lee leans in to gently place another kiss to your cheek. As though his kisses can ease the pain of his strikes. Something in you wants to believe he is trying to soothe the pain he inflicted on you. The more nihilistic part of you knows you are only searching for the swordsman's affection in Lee 's actions.  Actions that only encompass power and control, that force obedience. Lee rests his forehead head against your head so that his lips are centimeters away from your ear.

"I told you, what I would do if you left- I thought you called my bluff, honey …" 

Your mouth went dry at the sight. How- You thought- there was no time to waste musing through all the precautions you  thought you followed. Not when your husband stood in front of you disproving their effectiveness.

"What is this?" He asked, pointing over to the bed.

There is an empty duffle bag clutched tight in his left hand- your duffle bag. Its contents scattered on the bed sporadically. A couple thousand berry, a map, exactly two changes of clothes, and a log pose. Everything you needed for a seamless departure.

"I- don't know how it- I-" You were too caught off guard to lie, too unprepared to conjure up an excuse on the fly. Instead you stood fumbling like an idiot trying to figure out how Lee could have possibly just stumbled upon your stash.

"What is it?!" The chief shouted, this time throwing the duffle bag so that it landed at your feet. Before you could answer, he was already stalking toward you. Soon his hands were wrapped around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. You'd wince in pain if the man had allowed you any wiggle room. 

"Were you trying to leave me?" he growls.

"No-" you tried to muffle through your clenched jaw. the word only coming out as a strained cry.

He looked unconvinced. That darkness you're too familiar with started to fill his eyes. It made you begin to question what in you was so naïve enough to think you could escape. Lee moves his hand from your cheek to wrap his arm firmly around your waist. His opposite arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"You want to leave me?" He snarled.

Your head shook ‘no’ so vigorously you almost forgot it was a lie. Just trying to appease the chief,  to be spared from his wrath. It did not work. Lee was already starting to walk backward , dragging your body along easily despite your protests. This time you were sure.

He was going to kill you.

Lee easily kicked open the French doors leading to the balcony. Your kicking and screaming, posing as no defense against your husband. He drags you, until your torso is pressed against the balcony railing and he is forcing your head over to look at the drop.

"This is your only way out. If you want to leave me tell me now and I'll throw you over myself.... Say it!"

"I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave." The words repeated from your mouth like an incantation. Barely made out through your cries.

It was enough to make the chief release you, letting your limp body fall to the concrete. He stared down at you with a satisfactory smile before bending at the knees. The gentleness in his touch as he swept the hair out your face is always a precursor to his cruel threats.

"I'll burn this whole village to the  ground if you try to leave again. Do you understand me?" He snarls. "Slowly, one by one I will burn every region until you return to me. I will force you to watch everyone, everything , burn because you decided to be fucking selfish." 

Another kiss is planted to your cheek  before the whisper of Lee's voice commands your attention back to him. A shiver of a sigh escaping your lips at the painful memory.

"I can rebuild their homes... would you like that?"

You nod, letting the tears stream your face. You can feel Lee's smirk against your skin when he kisses the streaks. As though he is giving his approval of your reaction, your emotion.  The whites of his fingers dig into your waist to hold you close.  His grip does not lessen when you start to sob.

This is how he loved you. Broken. Tattered. Hopeless. An ode to his power, to how much he controlled you.

"Okay, Honey, first thing in the morning."

-

Water trickles down your chin and onto the sink. You had washed your face six times trying to get the feeling of Lee's hands off you. A futile attempt. His touch would be seared onto you forever.

You trace your cheek while staring into the vanity. There's some relief in not seeing a mark. Probably have your hiatus to thank for Lee's sudden mercy on you. At least you won't be subjected to questions. Trying to conjure up on the spot cover ups come morning, as to not incriminate your husband.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth. You would sob if you weren't so convinced you deserved this. The stinging of your face, the burning of your throat, the stabbing feeling in your chest. This must all be just a fraction of what you imposed on Zoro. The guilt in you leaves little room for other emotions, especially self pity.

How dare you believe a life waited for you beyond these cities' walls. Stupid, stupid, stupid- Foolishly thinking you could escape the future both your father and husband have mapped for you.

You curse the two month departure for giving you a glimpse of how good freedom could feel. For bringing the swordsman into your life when he is so undeserving of the burden you pose. For finally giving you hope just to later rub it in your  face.

"Lady Misatori." A small voice quips from the other side of the bathroom door. A knock follows to further force your attention.

A housekeeper stands on the other side. She can barely meet your eyes. A piece of notebook paper is folded into a tight square in her fingers , she is extending it out for you to grab. It trembles in her hands, giving way to the anxiety she is failing to hide.

"Thank you." You mutter. The maid looks relieved to hear her question-free dismissal.

When you open up the note you immediately recognize the handwriting. Had seen scribbled recipes written on loose leaf paper, and napkins enough to note it as Sanji's.

'Mosshead wants to talk- garden 10 minutes .'

The woman's trembling is finally put into perspective. Fearful of what her role in sneaking around the chief could mean for her. Briefly you wonder what the cook could've said to convince the woman to do this. Had his charm really been strong enough to get the woman to forgo all her senses? Part of you wishes to relish seeing Sanji's flirting finally meet with intrigue, but the insistent need to lay eyes on Zoro replaces the thought.

It has you stumbling out of the bathroom as quickly as you could. Forever grateful that in all his control Lee had found it fitting to give you a private bathroom.

-

It is dark, and wet. Leaves crunch and crumble beneath your feet as you walk the maze-like garden. The unpaved path is bordered with mountainous rose bushes that block your view of any direction, but front and back. The red flowers bloom so fruitfully they encroach your space on the pathway. The weather has gotten considerably cooler in the night, forcing you to pull your cardigan tighter around your shoulders. Regretting that the rush had made you grab the first thing with sleeves you saw.

A sigh leaves your lips exhaustedly. Surely the cook was mistaken. There was no sign of the swordsman anywhere. Maybe he had changed his mind about wanting to talk. Decided the risk isn't worth the reward. That you aren't worth the breath-

You hit an intersection on the path, and before you have the opportunity to turn left, there is a tight grasp around your arm. The force pulls you back, nestling you into the bushes behind you as you still. Once you gain your composure and are able to open your eyes, you’re met with the swordsman.

His left hand is wrapped firmly around your right arm, his other rest in the bush beside your head. Zoro has you caged. Trapped with nowhere to run. No place to hide. No escape.

"Husband?" He fumed. "Have you just been fucking around with me?"

"Zoro..." You plead, reaching out to grasp his cheek. He does not let you. Releases his hold on you to take a step back before your fingers land on him. The look on his face seethes of betrayal.

"Answer me!" The pirate barks. You flinch at the tone of his words, your eyes shutting closed. It takes a minute to gather yourself. You have never heard Zoro's voice void of any affection.

You swallow your own tears . Shove down your discomfort to accept accountability for your actions. Even if all you want to do is hold the swordsman once more. Hear his heart thump in his chest. Hear him say he loves you.

"I should have told you. I am so sorry I hurt you Zoro. "

The pirate scoffs, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He is shaking his head in disbelief, eyes burrowing into yours.

"You lied to me. You told me you loved m-"

"I Promise Zoro, I love you. I love you so much. so much." You beseech. 

The swordsman seems even more tortured by your testament. His hands find his skull to dig his fingers into his scalp. As if trying to ground himself for only a moment at the reeling thoughts.

"Does he know that? That you love me, that you're mine?"

When you don't answer the frustration builds in the swordsman. He lets out a pained laugh that morphs into more of a choke. His expression is filled with disbelief. 

"You're not mine." He speaks as if he is speaking to himself. "You're his."

"That is who you want to spend the rest of your life with? He talks to you like shit- the dirt beneath his shoes and you smile through the whole thing. The man who thinks you're his accessory- That is the man you love?"

Zoro badgers you. Moving his tongue as piercingly swift as you're sure, he can wield his swords. 

"I do not love that man." You choke.

"Then why?" The swordsman shouts. His exclamation wakes the small birds that have chosen the garden as their resting place. The sounds of their wings flapping away from the conflict fills the air. "Y/n ... why are you doing this to me?"

There is a frailness to his voice you don't recognize. Something so breakable about the way he utters your name. In the two months you had spent with Zoro you had never seen him show this much emotion.

"Zoro, if I could stay on the beach with you forever... I would. But I can't. I have people who need me-"

"I need you!" He professes, throwing his arms in the air. 

The way that Zoro bares his scars to you , when you could not do the same in return physically pains you. You force down the tears that dare to surface at his confession. Who were you to be hurt in a situation you hand crafted? To cry in the presence of a man who held his broken heart in his hands with hopes, you would fix it.

There's an immense sadness in your restraint, how you're able to still your body though every bone in you wants to wrap around him.  Reciprocate all the comfort Zoro so willingly gives to you. But this is not the beach-

"I'm so sorry Zoro. I'm so sorry." Your eyes shift to the ground. The tears are so much harder to fight off when you can see the confusion under his saddened expression.

Zoro cups your cheeks in his hands and for a fleeting moment there is no anger. There are only kisses shared under the stars, gasps fallen onto the sand, words of endearment lost to the wind. Love. For a second Zoro stares at you and there is only love.

"I don't want apologizes- " There's a shake in his breath. " I want you to tell me why I have to watch another man touch you.  Why he gets to hold you tonight instead of me. Tell me why you keep saying you love me, but you're going home to another man. Tell me the fucking truth!"

Even in his anger you can hear the worry in the pirate's voice. It takes you by surprise. Maybe malice hasn't taken up the space of affection in Zoro's heart after all. Maybe in all his poking and prodding Lee had only brought concern out of the first mate. The sweet sentiment physically aches. You turn your head, breaking free from his grasp.

"Leave Zoro- take your crewmates and go. I'm only going to hurt you if you stay, so please- go."

"... Is he why you need the sun to feel free?"

You're caught off guard by the swordsman's questions. Don't expect to hear your words echoed from his mouth. "Free". You could almost laugh hearing the word now. Freedom? What did you know about freedom? Always a pawn for someone else's will, your own desires to be placed on a shelf and expectantly forgotten.  This castle has always been your prison.

"I'll make sure you'd feel the sun everyday. I will drag it out the sky and place it in your hands if it will make you smile. I'll never trap you. I love you. Please- don't leave me." He begs.

Your body is moving on its own again, this time manipulated by the voice of the swordsman. Unsure of what has come over you, you're reaching out for Zoro, pulling him in closer. You know that you shouldn't. Especially not here and not now. But it does not stop you from standing on your tiptoes to press your lips into his.

The intention was for a quick kiss, just one last time to feel Zoro's lips on yours, but it's difficult not to savor the moment. To not search for another life, one where you could be together, in his mouth. The same desperation is displayed in the way Zoro grasps you. Tight. One hand tangled in your hair while the other on your waist. As if he could hold you tight enough to stay. He groans in displeasure why you finally pull away from him.

"Go Zoro. I'm only going to break you."

-

The sun has risen just enough to illuminate the desolate field. The early morning is still shying away from pushing out the darkness of night completely. You woke early enough to see Lee still had not returned home. Off doing something you are sure, is none of your business. 

You took the opportunity to sneak out to what used to be the lemon grove. Tears stream your face while you wonder what pushed you out here. What exactly it is that you're hoping to find amongst the ash.

The memories of your mother you can't get back? Pieces of the wooden swing you used to sit on in the summer? Evidence it was truly necessary to leave the swordsman in your past?

It's hard to focus on all you've lost when staring at the pile of rubble that is the villagers' homes. Their whole lives destroyed at a whim. You did this to them. Had you stayed home and behaved no one, not even the swordsman, would be in this situation.

"Wanna tell me what you're looking for?"

The whisper behind you sounds so familiar. There is a part of you that does not want to turn around, thinks it's better off not knowing who the voice belongs to. A bigger part of you itches with a need to know.

"Zoro."

"Maybe I can help you find it." There's a crooked smirk on his lips.

It's involuntary, the way your heart is instantly soothed at his arrival. Something it must have learned on its own while on the beach. You have to fight not to jump into his arms. Draw him into you with the wish to feel his lips again. 

" I thought I told you to leave..." you mutter.

"You did." The pirate agrees. Zoro moves from behind you, so you no longer have to crane your neck to look at him. He reaches to take your hand in his. His thumb traces the back of your hand, his touch so soft you almost don't feel it.  

"You're still here."

"You may have authority in this village, but the only person I take orders from is Luffy." He lets out a laugh.

The sound forces your brows to furrow to the center of your face. Where was his anger? His disappointment? Why wasn't he yelling at you? The last conversation you had with the swordsman had not gone the best. This warm welcome is the farthest reception you expected to receive.

"What?" He asks, reaching out to smooth the wrinkles your frown causes. You're surprised at the way you flinch when his fingertips touch your forehead, a reaction you hadn't had in at least a month.

Had it really only taken one night with Lee to erase all your expectations of being lovingly touched?

You can see Zoro's happy exterior waiver for just a moment at your knee jerk reaction. Still he does not draw away his fingers. Just trails them down so he can stroke your cheek. Still offering you a kind smile.

"Stop Zo..."  You're taking a step away before you can give into him. Pulling your hand away to further the distance.  "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see the lemon grove..." He uses the tip of his boot to kick at a burned shingle on the ground. "So much for that."

"Oh? You made it here all on your own?" In spite of your sorrows you laugh. "You didn't get lost?"

Zoro glares at you, his eyebrows raised to his temples. You suspect he hadn't expected you to join in on his light heartedness.

"I had to ask someone in the town square..." He sheepishly admits drawing an even more obnoxious laugh for your throat.

"Why were you looking for the lemon grove?"

"You don't remember?" He asks.

Even in your best memories of the beach, you never liked sand. The way it intrusively stuck to you, creeping its way into every nook and cranny made your skin crawl, but this beach was the expectation. You loved everything about this beach.

"Tell me something else." Zoro requests. His voice was softer than before- meeker after your supposed rejection.

You were still wrapped firmly in the swordsman arms, your head on his chest. Zoro's head had returned to rest on top of yours. A brisk breeze forced you closer to Zoro in search of warmth, the thin blanket almost whisked away at the gust. The sight drew a laugh from the pirate.

"Where would you be right now if you were home?"

The only location you could definitely think of was underneath the chief's thumb, but that surely couldn't be the answer the swordsman was looking for. It was hard to think of places in your village that still brought you joy. Places that hadn't been corrupted in the transition of power from your father to Lee.

"The lemon grove." You blurted out the second it came to you. There was a cheesy grin on your face while you reminisced. A grin that is met with a full blown smile from Zoro once he sees your joy. He leaned down to plant  a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw.

"Yeah? Why is that your favorite place?" His breath brushed against your neck.

"My mom used to take me there, and we would have picnics in the summer. There's this huge swing we'd sit on. It's my favorite place in the whole world."

"All that you've seen of it?" Zoro jokes. He caught your wrist when you went to slap his chest. Bringing your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. He rubbed his finger back and forth over yours after planting one last kiss to your cheek.

"Maybe you can show it to me? When we get you home?"

Lee had never in the six months you'd been married bothered to visit the lemon grove. Just knew it was a sacred space for you , a memento to your mother. This was the first time you're grateful for that. That in the chief's vast kingdom there could still be a place that could be just Zoro and yours.

"I would love that Zo."

You smiled before craning your neck to plant a kiss on his lips.

"I wanted to see your favorite place." Zoro admits once he sees you remember. "I thought it might give me some insight." 

"Insight?" You parrot in confusion. 

"You're hiding something from me." Zoro states plainly, drawing your eyes to him.

"You found out I'm married, what else can I be hiding Zoro?" Your voice trembles with exhaustion.

The swordsman narrows his eyes as he looks you over. That fury, and fire previously seen in the garden is long gone . All that remains is this inquisitive stare.

"I don't know, but you are... I wish you would let me help you."

"Help me-" There is a feigned smile painted on your lips. How could a pirate of the new world be so... heartening. Surely the horrors he has seen, far exceed the small misfortunes of your life.

"Zoro. I already told you to go. "

"If you looked at me and told me you didn't mean any of it I would've left. Sailed away and tried for the rest of my life never to think of you again, but you didn't. You told me you love me-"

"I do."

Zoro plops down onto the ash filled ground. He crosses his arms against his chest, and stares out at the rubble.

"Then I'm not leaving. Until you tell me what's going on, what's actually happening, I'm not going anywhere."

The way your heart swells at his proclamation is treacherous. Allowing yourself to be swooned by actions that could very well get the both of you executed. You almost think it's sweet, if it wasn't so stupid.

"Why do you care? Zoro I hurt you, why are you still chasing me?"

"... because I meant it when I said I love you. And I know you meant it too."

"You deserve someone better than me Zoro. Someone who won't hold you back, someone who won't hurt you, someone worthy of standing next to the world's strongest swordsman."

"I don't care what you think I deserve. That's not a decision for you to make." Zoro snaps.

"Zoro... " You sigh exasperatedly at his rebuttal. "Do you really think I won't hold you back? That you will still become the world's strongest swordsman if I'm standing next to you?"

"I don't think I will become the world's strongest swordsman if you aren't standing next to me." 

There's a sharp breath forced into your lungs at his confession. How could he say that with such certainty. It has only been two months. The two of you should be able to forget each other. Move on as if none of this happened- but Zoro stands before you stating he doesn't know if his dream will come true without you. A dream he has been chasing his entire life. A dream you've only come privy to in the last 60 days. 

"Tell me you don't love me- I'll go. If you look me in my eyes right now and say it, I'll leave." He challenges.

You search for the words on your tongue, though you cannot find them. No parts of you willing, or wanting to lie to the swordsman.

"I can't."

-

Zoro has kept his promise. The strawhat crew joining you and your husband for breakfast, lunch, and now dinner going on the third day in a row. You wonder what the pirate is waiting for? A confession? An outcry for help? Don't know what actions would be satisfactory enough to get him to sail away.

In all of those days Zoro has sat in that same seat, to the right of you at every meal. Some meals he would lightly brush his knees back and forth against yours. At others he would 'accidentally' knock his napkin off the table so he could pinch your thighs. In spite of your best efforts to forget the swordsman exists, he seems all too insistent on making his presence known.

"So Luffy, when do you think you and your crew will be leaving?" Lee asks. His voice does well to mask the irritation you can pin in the twitch of his eye. "We'd love to send you all off with a ball."

You suspect Lee's urging of the Strawhats' departure correlates to his growing  suspicion of the swordsman. The chief may be many things, but naïve has never been one of them. He takes note of the way Zoro's eye never leaves you, regardless of whoever is speaking. How the swordsman just couldn't be bothered to feign interest whenever the chief commands the room. You had spent every one of these past nights disavowing your feelings for the swordsman.

"We're thinking soon- Wednesday at the latest." Nami answers before her captain has the opportunity to. He seems to wear a confused look that is soon dissipated by her scowl. 

Two days.

Although you had trained yourself not to go looking for the swordsman, your eyes immediately fall onto him at the navigator's words. Your concern is met with raised bows, almost a silent challenge from the pirate.

Did he expect you to profess your love there at the dinner table? To look at your husband and gloat in the love you've been able to find? Neither are options being the choice was not yours. Lee has done a great job in ensuring you did not have any choices.

"Oh, I'll get the staff on preparations immediately. We will hold the ball tomorrow." Lee's smile is filled with pleasure.

His wife had returned home, and soon the guests he had been performing for would be on their way. Everything is on the road to being back to normal. Exactly how you remembered it. The thought sends a shiver down your body.

"Maybe y/n can take us to the shop to find a dress?" Robin suggests.

Lee is apprehensive about letting you go. Obvious from the way his smile falters at the archeologists suggestion. But he never could deny a pretty woman. Begrudgingly he agrees.

Part III

************************************************************************

A/N: Part three is in the works , I'm hoping to not go more than a week between chapters, but please don't hold me to that. The ADHD will make me a liar. Thank you to all the beautiful people who care about my work, and have so many kind words.

Tag List: @turtletaubwrites @jinjen @sanzu-clinic @heyauntieeee @honeybuzzzzzz @nothing-but-brass

[neocrias]

The Ultimate Test

Synopsis: In which you hear that Mark Lee - a cocky classmate from college - is a bad kisser, so he personally offers to prove you wrong.

wc: 3,3k genre: party! au; university! au; slightly suggestive

You didn't used to come to parties like this. Well, at least not on weekdays. Definitely not when you had a Calculus 3 exam in a couple of days to worry about. However, the pleading eyes of your three best friends who couldn't bear to see you go through the whole grueling college experience without going through the whole drinking-and-partying stereotypical uni thing managed to convince you this time.

And you were thankful to have a little black strapless dress tucked away in the back of your closet for specific situations like this. And you were also grateful when your friends offered to pay for your Uber - after all, being an university student also brought with it the unhappiness of lack of money and the small joy of when you get something for free.

You just weren't very grateful when you realized that you barely spoke to those people at the party and your friends had "very important" things to do, which included kissing and boys, and didn't include you staring at them while all of this was going on. Of course, this was expected, and you didn't want to be a party-pooper, so you just started walking around and drinking a few shots of beverages you weren't exactly interested in knowing what were. Again, it was for free.

Your slight shyness wasn't limiting or controlling, but it was certainly a bit inconvenient. More than once a few good-looking guys came up to talk to you, but your clumsiness simply drove them away within a few minutes. Damn.

And now here you were: listening to incredibly loud music in a modern mid-century house that you didn't know who it belonged to - or even if it was a fraternity, or anything like that - with a plastic cup of a drink that you didn't know what it was, eyeliner that you could swear would melt at any moment with the human warmth around you, a little black dress that had already gone out of fashion and an uncontrollable urge to do something outrageous, just so you could distract yourself from the fact that normally at that time you would either be sleeping or freaking out about the imminent calculus exam. "Damn that motherfucking calculus," you thought, "I'm at a party."

On the other side of the large, high-ceiling living room, a group of recognizably annoying boys were playing beer pong while dozens of girls surrounded them. All of them were engineering students, except for their leader, Mark Lee, who was the most disturbing of the seven and was a literature major (which in some way that was incomprehensible to you, attracted a lot of girls) and he obviosuly took advantage of this, which was visible by the girl leaning loosely on his waist at this very moment.

— YES! — Haechan, one of them, shouted over the loud music as he hit the ping-pong ball into a glass of beer. Mark cracked his neck twice before picking up the glass and drinking until the very last drop, defeated.

You stared at him as he shrugged and grimaced before returning the glass to the table and flashing a smile at everyone in the game, preparing for his turn to throw the ball.

It wasn't that he wasn't handsome, or attractive. Yes, he was. And he didn't fall short on either count. You could understand why he was so chasen after by the girls on campus. It's just that you'd had the opportunity to have a few dialogues with Mark Lee, and they were all pretty unpleasant. There was something about his manner, his attitude, that you just couldn't endure. He was irritating. Smug. Sloppy. And you don't have time or patience for that.

He then flexed his arm, his biceps visible thanks to his tank top, and threw the ping-pong ball, but someone blocked your view just in time to watch him hit the cup.

— You won't believe what I've just found out! — Jennie, one of your three cheeky friends, appears smiling and clearly drunk. — Mark Lee is a total soft kisser!

— What? — You almost scream, startled by the sudden mention of the boy you've been shamelessly watching for the past few moments. And even worse: worried about how your friend had acquired this information.

— I'm serious! — She laughed out loud, bending her body forward and knocking some of what looked like a fruit cocktail out of the glass in her hand. You sidestep cautiously, but some of the pink liquid still splashes on your legs. — Lin said they kissed earlier in the evening, and he barely even moved! Can you believe that?

You laugh at the irony of the facts. That was valid information to share. You feel a bit bad for Lin, your classmate, but honestly? You wouldn't trade knowing that for anything. Of course, Mark, the most conceited person who ever lived, would be the type to talk a lot and do nothing. Was there anything more coherent than that? Absolutely not!

Your laughter joins Jennie's, and you both enjoy the gossip for a while. Suddenly, Rihanna's "You Da One" starts playing through the dozens of speakers scattered around the house and you and your friend stare at each other, wide-eyed, as your laughter stops.

— THAT'S OUR SONG! — You shout at the same time. Jennie pulls you by the arm to the most spacious part of the room, where everyone was dancing, and you let yourself go for the first time all night.

The lively melody and beat combine with the rhythm of your heart, and not much later you can hardly feel the world around you. Tests, lack of money, shyness or cocky boys, none of it mattered. The few drinks you've consumed so far finally seem to take effect, and with every song that plays, your body feels looser and your mind feels further away.

Not long after that, a tall, muscular guy starts to whisper something to Jennie, who smiles back shyly. You realize that maybe this is your cue to take a break from the dance floor to grab another drink and finally quench your thirst caused by the sudden exercise.

You see the familiar counter full of disposable cups and bottles of all kinds on the other side of the hall, in what appears to be a dining room combined with a kitchen that is now full of young people and very messy. It's easy to let yourself imagine what that environment would look like if it weren't in its most chaotic state: perhaps a cozy place or a shared-house of intelligent students. But right now, that was just the alcohol talking.

As soon as you reach the counter, you grab a plastic cup and fill it with what looks like clear alcohol - perhaps a vodka, or gin - topped off with a generic soft drink from the other side of the counter. That mix will be enough at the moment to keep you from passing out, but it won't let the dance sober you up again either.

The first sip brings the sweetness of soda and the bitterness of strong alcohol down your throat.

— Vodka. That's for sure. — You conclude to yourself, looking at the cup in your hands.

— I thought you were some kind of female-hermit or something. — A voice pulls you out of your little dialog with the inanimate object in your hands, and you look up to see the person on the other side of the bar, only to roll your eyes deeply.

— That' not even a thing.

But Mark Lee just shrugs, filling his own cup with what looked like a brownish liquor.

— You get the idea. — He smiles and tilts his head, stopping to watch you. His eyes scan along your little black dress and you suddenly feel embarrassed by all the attention you're getting. He just lets out a muffled laugh, probably noticing the way you flinch slightly, and walks away with his drink - not without turning around and giving you a wink, which you answered with a frown.

After the not-so-pleasant appearance of the cocky college student, you remember the funniest piece of information of the evening: "Mark Lee is a total soft kisser!". Of course! He could be as arrogant as he wanted around you or any other girl, but you knew what he really was. You knew his secret. And he may have walked out of there thinking he'd rocked it, or that he'd made you uncomfortable as usual, but it was you who had won your little dispute. After all, you're going to have the last laugh.

…🎉…

A few more drinks away and no word from your friends. The small anger you had felt towards Mark had been transformed into an important mission to tell almost every girl you knew there about the new gossip you had been entrusted with.

You were at a stage in your drinking where your conscience was no longer so affected - so you could tell that your actions were the result of a real desire to unmask the most annoying guy you knew. Of course, the drink made you bold enough to carry out the plan, but the rest was all yours.

— So… Mark Lee, do you know who that is? — You were excitedly telling Lane, a girl from your business class. Lane nodded, curious. — The rumors are that…

She then arched her eyebrows, looking past you. Unfortunately, or not, you didn't exactly notice that.

— He's a very bad kisser! — And then you started laughing for the nth time that night, thinking about how funny that was and hoping for a good reaction from your colleague.

— Oh really? And how do you know that? — A voice echoes from behind you and you feel your spine freeze. Lane stares at you and the person behind you alternately, getting a front row view of your giant screwup.

"Shit", you thought before turning to face the known voice owner.

— Mark. — It's all you can say. You try your best not to show the shame of having been caught in such a…vulnerable moment. The brown-haired guy just stared at you intensely, arms crossed in front of his chest and a deadly look in his eyes. You don't let yourself be intimidated this time, and give him an ironic look in return.

— Funny you should be saying that, hermit.

— Funny that you're a literature student and yet misuse that word.

Okay, that wasn't your best take at the moment. But it was all you could think of as a response. You wait for a laugh from Mark, or anything else that would reveal his smug spirit - or that would show that he had been shaken by your comment about the kiss.

However, he just takes a step forward, still with his arms crossed, coming dangerously close to you and tilting his head and shoulders in your direction, to look you right in the eye as he says:

— Who did you call a "bad kisser" again? — He teases, starting to crack a sly smile. — Why don't you kiss me to prove who's the bad kisser?

You swallow a lump in your throat, not knowing what to say. That's right, it seems that his idiotic manners had appeared in the worst possible way, and now it was up to you to make things right, even though you felt nervous and your stomach twisted with a feeling you didn't understand where it was coming from.

Suddenly, a flash of confidence came over you. And there, staring at your nemesis' frowning eyebrows and the nonchalant way in which he crossed his well-shaped arms, with that stupid grin on his face and a growing challenge in his gaze, you understood what was happening to you. Damn it, you want to kiss Mark.

Of course you don't want to give him a taste of being right, or yet another reason for him to think he's the man. Of course you don't want to hurt your own pride, and you'd hold on to it like your life depended on it.

But you also wanted to be able to test that gossip you'd heard earlier that evening. And you also wanted the taste of knowing that you'd totally destabilized that arrogant man. You wanted to see the look of surprise on his face when you accepted his proposal, or would he be… satisfied? Or bewildered? All the options seemed alluring in your imagination.

And you wanted to. Oh, you really did. You really wanted to kiss Mark Lee.

— Prove me wrong, then. — You boldly held the gaze of the boy who was testing your patience so much these past weeks. Your smile gradually widened as you watched his mouth slowly open in confusion. Oh, he hadn't expected that. Mark's eyebrows drew together and he seemed to search for words. His posture stretched, and the shadow of his body moved away from you.

— Wait, what did you say? — He pointed to his own ear and then to his surroundings, indicating the muffled sound of the party music. His face showed, however, that he had heard very well - he just wanted to make sure he wasn't hallucinating those words.

— Prove. me. wrong.

— What the actual f… — He practically whispered, but you could understand the words just by watching the movement of his lips. Mark's gaze in your direction was puzzled and surprised, but not in a childish way. He stared at you as if he were really trying to understand what on earth could be happening to you at that moment.

So, without letting him think too much about your sudden acceptance, you took the boy's wrist in one hand and began to lead him out of there.

— Let's find somewhere to go. — You said, with an assurance that had never come through your voice before, which Mark seemed to like. Then he took the lead himself, gently leading you through the party with the calm of someone who seemed to have done it many times before - and he probably had. You mentally thanked him, because if you had to continue to pull up your little confident act, your knees might have given out. Or your stomach would explode. Something in between.

Suddenly, Mark stopped in front of a door, already on the second story of the house. You didn't even notice how your feet made it all the way up the stairs, but they did. He opens the door, but not before turning to look at you one last time, trying to make sure that was happening.

He enters the room before you and turns on the light, making you realize that it was a rather narrow bathroom. Your heart beats rapidly before you take the final steps towards that unexpected destination. You enter and close the door behind you. Mark leans lazily against the wall opposite to the sink, facing the bathroom mirror. He takes a deep breath, looks at the floor with a sly smile and says:

— I thought you hated me… — But you don't let him finish, because you quickly stand in front of him and put both hands behind the back of the head of the boy you hated. You see Mark's eyes widen one last time as he is interrupted, before you can bring your lips together in a rushed kiss.

Your nervous fingers run through the end of Mark's hair, which seemed freshly cut and slightly spiky. You smiled into the kiss at the tickling sensation, while he barely had time to react to your approach.

Then, when he finally understands, Mark pulls you close, holding your waist with both hands and spreading his legs to fit you between them. His grip is firm but still, as if he's nervous.

You continue to enjoy the moment, moving according to the rhythm between you, but always wanting more. The air in the bathroom seems increasingly thin, but the chaos of your mind barely lets you notice. You leave Mark's lips to make a trail of kisses between his chin and neck, hearing him sigh above you. You feel the warmth of his skin, and the short traces of freshly shaved beard on his face. It's only when Mark gently pulls his face away and leans his forehead against yours, pausing to take a deep breath, that you realize he's barely had time to think.

— Okay, hasty. — He lets out a weak laugh between sighs. — Now it's my turn.

Without letting you answer - and in a classic revenge move - Mark leans over until you have to walk backwards. His steps are short, but they work until your back hits the sink counter. His exposed arms encircle you, holding you firmly on the worktop as he brings his body closer to yours until you're completely touching.

You let out an exclamation before he presses your lips together again, this time taking the lead.

Mark's lips feel like uncharted territory, as this time he takes control. His kiss is firm, but not at all restrained. Slowly, you feel one of his hands rise from the counter and run down your spine from the base to the nape of your neck, tracing it with his fingers and leaving you extremely sensitive. At the nape of your neck, Mark's hand fiddles with your hair, precisely catching the strands in a ponytail that he pulls back slightly.

His index finger makes a few deft turns through the strand, twisting it until it is completely in his grasp. He squeezes your strands with a force that doesn't hurt, but makes you grunt into the kiss - which he answers with a smile.

Still enraptured by the unexpected movements, you barely notice when Mark's two hands gather around your thighs, pushing them up until you're sitting on the sink counter and he has to tilt his head slightly to avoid breaking the kiss. The ease with which he had lifted you, and without pulling away. Oh my God.

Jennie's words about Mark seem further and further away, as if they had been in another life. They also seem, fortunately or not, untrue.

"Lin said they kissed earlier in the evening, and he barely even moved! Can you believe that? ", you hear your friend's voice in your head. Oh, no… Lin must have been completely out of her mind.

But there's barely time to think about anything outside that small bathroom. Or at least not when Mark is running his tongue lightly over your lower lip before moving on to your neck. The warm breath against your cold skin sends shivers down your spine, and you wriggle under the boy's grip - which still hasn't left your thigh.

With no time to lose, you pull back on Mark's neck to press your lips together again, and he seems to love it. For a few more moments, you exchange hurried kisses and firm squeezes, until Mark's kiss begins to slow down, becoming even more attractive. The movement of your lips, so sure and certain, gradually stops, until he leaves a few lingering kisses and rests with your faces close together.

— I think you've proved me wrong. — You say, in a whisper, then let out a muffled laugh, unable to stop smiling.

— That's a shame… — He begins, tilting his head with a sideways smile. — Because if you weren't convinced, I'd have to keep proving it to you.

You face each other directly, and you can't help but roll your eyes at his comment, and then say:

— Mark Lee, you're an incredibly bad kisser.

— That's exactly what I wanted to hear. — He mumbles and moves closer again. You can still hear him let out one last dry, drawn-out laugh before closing your eyes and surrendering to the darkness.

[stephexmachina]

what’s your favorite official dc art piece or style for connor?

ANON I LOVE YOU. I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS TOPIC AAAAAAAA

first of all, this coverrrr..... gorgeous captiving beautiful beyond belief i have to include it on principle bc it is stunning. i doooooo have to say i'm not generally a fan of his modern long-haired design, mostly bc artists tend to give him this flowy Legolas style hair w Zero texture ughhhhhh. but i love how curly and beautiful it's drawn here <33

Green Arrow (2023) #13 variant cover by A.L. Kaplan

i also adoreeeee how he's drawn in the GL hate crimes crossover he looks soooo sweet and charming and he just RADIATES kindness. i mean just look at that smile. imo modern Connor is missing that gentle, endearing boy-next-door kind of vibe and i'd Kill to see a return to the heart of him. plus no evil green colonizer eyes to be seen 🙏

if i had to pick a favourite connor design/art style, it would be this one!! the one thing i do take issue with is that the colorist could stand to go a little darker – but his skin isn't outrageously pale, and it actually looks natural! like a tone an actual human being would have! which is better than many colorists can say for themselves. god, the bar is so low.

Green Lantern Vol 3 #92, written by Ron Marz, art by Darryl Bank, Terry Austin, Rob Schwager

i actually quite like how he's penciled during the hard travelling heroes arc as well, though it's ruined by the god-awful coloring job (grey-green skin + the dreaded colonizer eyes 💔). it was disappointing + insulting enough that i actually edited a new version.

Green Lantern Vol 3 #76, written by Ron Marz, art by Paul Pelletier, Romeo Tanghal, & Pamela Rambo + edit by stephexmachina (me!)

i went with his modern coloring for this edit, but in truth i'm still not sure how i feel about platinum blond Connor. i don't dislike it, but i also don't think a Connor design necessarily needs super light hair. he can have darker blonde or even reddish hair and still look like Connor so long as you capture his personality + energy, which i find modern depictions rarely do.

i also liked Jim Aparo's design quite a bit!! i love the wavy texture in his hair and his strong jawline, and above all i like that he looks his age. DC has a way of drawing Connor that makes him look much older than he logically should be, even as the rest of the cast are de-aged, so i appreciate it when he looks like the brave, slightly naive young man that he is. that said, the coloring was disappointing (lightened skin + evil colonizer eyes strike again 😔)

Green Arrow Vol 2 #123, written by Chuck Dixon, art by Jim Aparo, Klaus Janson & Lee Loughridge

so these were some of my favourite Connor designs over the years!! the list is non-exhaustive & i'm sure more examples will occur to me later once i've already hit post, but i think my top favourites are all here!

one thing i hope people take away from this post is that your Connor designs don't have to begin and end with the post-52 era!! you can draw his hair shorter, darker, more textured!! you can draw him charming, friendly, youthful! you not only can give him beautiful brown eyes, but Should – those evil green colonizer eyes need not reign forever. and let's leave his white-washed days in the past where they belong 🙏

[coochiequeens]

Another sex offender TIM released into the public.........and given a laptop

Daughter's fury as paedophile father who abused and shared images of her with other sick perverts online before changing gender in prison is quietly released (...and given a laptop by an offender's charity)

By ROSS SLATER

PUBLISHED: 10:47 EDT, 16 July 2023 | UPDATED: 10:49 EDT, 16 July 2023

A paedophile who changed gender while in prison for sexually abusing her own daughter as a child and sending explicit photos of her to perverts online has been quietly released back into the community - and given a laptop by a do-gooding charity.

Claire Fox, 61, who was previously known as Clive Bundy, a father of six, served just seven years of a 15-year jail sentence, before being settled into a tiny market town on the Welsh borders.

Fox, who wears a black wig and floral dresses told neighbours, who knew nothing of her sordid past, that she was an electrician from Bangor as they helped her get settled into her new surroundings and helped her furnish her flat.

Fox's release from prison has appalled her daughter Ceri-Lee Galvin, who bravely waived her right to anonymity, having been abused by her father for nine years from the age of eight.

Revealing her astonishment, Ceri-Lee, 24, told MailOnline: 'My father is not a woman and I refuse to recognise him as such. He changed his gender in prison to make his life there easier.

But now he is out and already up to his usual tricks – conning everyone he meets. 

'The fact he is now dressed as a woman makes him more dangerous as young girls are his thing and he has never shown any remorse.

'My father is a highly manipulative man who has attended no sexual offender rehabilitation programmes, shown no remorse for what he has done and openly admits finding children attractive.

'There have been no meetings I'm aware of to tell local schools about his presence, he has no tag and no curfew. He has just been put into this community and given all he could wish for – food, furniture, a home and a laptop.'

Ceri-Lee, now a student paramedic, added: 'I am in no way transphobic and I feel incredibly sorry for people who genuinely need to transition. They face stigma and worse because of cases like this.

'But it should just not be an option for those convicted of sexual offences against children to suddenly say that they want to be a woman.

'This only arose at the end of 2021 when he was due to be moved to an open prison but then had a fight with a fellow prisoner that was serious enough to stop the move.

'That is when he went for the gender change – when he was almost 60, having been a macho man all his life and having had eight children and having never mentioned gender dysphoria before.

'Now he is being indulged by everyone. The prison service gave him make-up and women's clothes and now a charity for the armed forces have provided him with so much stuff when all he did was a short stint in the Territorial Army in his 20s.

He has conned them. He was never a soldier. The whole thing is outrageous.'

Fox arrived in a sheltered accommodation block for older people in a tiny town at the start of June.

She was given new furniture, a television, printer, washing machine, crockery and a laptop by the armed forces charity SSAFA because she had once been in the Territorial Army.

Fox's neighbour Lyn Robinson, 74, said: 'My first impression was that this person was very cheerful and amenable, assuring all us older people that they'd be no trouble. They seemed very confident despite the outlandish appearance.

'I thought she might find it difficult fitting in so I really took care of her. I gave her clothes and even lent her £70, which is a lot for a pensioner.

'I took her to the food bank at the Baptist Church where she was given loads of stuff including vouchers for a butcher in town and for a coffee shop.

'And we went to a concert at St Edward's Church where I introduced her to the vicar. I had no idea of her history.

Fox's decision to change gender before being released from prison, provoked a storm of protest when it was revealed in April.

She chose the same name as gender-critical campaigner and media pundit Claire Fox, now sitting in the House of Lords as Baroness Fox of Buckley.

Campaign groups fear that by changing their gender, sex offenders can effectively whitewash their past and could avoid detection under the Home Office's Disclosure and Barring Service, set up to protect children from abusers.

DBS uses official paperwork such as a passport or driving licence to carry out their checks, both of which can prove difficult to check after choosing a new name and gender.

The potential loophole is provided by the Gender Recognition Act (2004), which created a 'sensitive applications route' for trans people.

Ceri-Lee added: 'The victim liaison officer told me the only reason I was being informed about the name and gender change was because he had given permission for this to happen.

'It's allowing him to say that Clive Bundy never existed, that my abuse never existed and it is clearly a danger to children which is why I decided to speak out.' 

Fox is not the first sex offender to change gender while in prison

A rapist who carried out sexual attacks as a man named Adam Graham in 2016 and 2019 sparked a heated debate earlier this year after changing gender and name to Isla Bryson while waiting to stand trial at the High Court in Glasgow.

And in 2018, convicted rapist 'Karen White' – branded a 'highly manipulative' predator by a judge – was moved to HMP New Hall in Wakefield, West Yorkshire, and sexually assaulted two women inmates.

Fox was arrested after police discovered images of Ceri-Lee online that the abuser had been trading with other pedophiles.

She was later charged with and admitted to several counts of sexual activity with Ceri-Lee, inciting a child to engage in sexual activity and distributing indecent images.

In 2016 she was sentenced to 15 years in prison. It was not until the end of 2021 that she told the authorities she wanted to change gender.

A SSAFA spokesperson, said: 'SSAFA, the Armed Forces charity provides practical, emotional and financial assistance to serving personnel, reservists, veterans and their families in their time of need. Due to data protection laws and our need to protect our beneficiaries' and employees' confidentiality, we cannot comment on individuals or their circumstances.'

A spokesperson for Dyfed-Powys Police said: 'In line with national guidelines we can neither confirm nor deny the information you have provided.

'However, we can confirm that Multi Agency Public Protection Arrangements are utilised throughout the entire force area to manage appropriate offenders living in the community and they will be closely supervised by local officers to minimise any risk.'

[channieschocco]

Skating with Stray Kids headcanons ────୨ৎ────

A little writer's note: These were so cute and fun to write, especially since I'm a figure skater myself. I'm considering writing oneshots based on Han and Jeongin's. Lmk what you think and enjoyyy<33

Bangchan

Chan was likely a bit nervous before agreeing to go skating with you, but of course he accepted in the end if you really wanted to do it. He seems like the type to trip and fall and end up dragging you down with him. He'll take millions of pictures of you laughing and smiling and will definitely stare at them later... He won't be the most steady on his feet, but he'll try so hard not to fall and embarrass himself in front of you. After you finish skating, he'll buy you hot chocolate!

Lee Know

I feel like Minho would be really graceful on the ice, but he wouldn't be able to do much more than just skating forwards. He laughs at you and teases when you stumble or fall, but his face turns a light shate of pink when he trips himself. Minho would try to skate in circles around you, teasing you for your speed, but he'll end up almost falling over, which earns a small amount of laughter from the people within hearing distance.

Changbin

Changbin will end up falling an outrageous amount, I just know it. He'll end up being sooo nervous to spend time with you which will just lead to him falling over even more. You on the other hand, will find this so adorable!! He's trying so hard to look tough and strong, but falling is not helping at all. Changbin will be blushing the whole time, no doubt. He'll definitely try to lift you above his head or find a YouTube tutorial on how to do some fancy figure skating pairs tricks. He'll succeed at the lifting part, and at causing strangers to cheer for you two, but you won't let him attempt the skating part.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin planned the whole thing, no doubt about it. He surprised you with roses before stepping on the ice and laced up your skates for you, making some of the other girls in the dressing rooms make their boyfriends tie up their skates for them. You were glad you didn't even have to ask. Once on the ice, Hyunjin wouldn't let go of you hand and almost ran into the boards while staring at you. Neither of you seemed to fall very much, and he kept pulling you over into the corner to steal tiny kisses. You tried to remind him that you were in public, but Hyunjin only cared about the beautiful girl in front of him, nothing more.

Han

Jisung. Will. Not. Stop. Falling. The. Whole. Time. Mark my words, Han will not last five seconds without falling flat on his face. You couldn't stop giggling the whole time, causing Jisung to blush profously. You didn't dare hold his hand in fear that he would drag you down with him. His beautiful smile and laugh accompanied this date, and no matter how many times Han fell over, he didn't stop grinning and laughing...until you got to the car. When you finished "skating" and were both warming up in the car, Jisung turned to you and apologized for ruining the whole date by falling over so many times. He looked sad and shy, which made your heart melt completely. You kissed his cheek, smiling and reassuring him that he didn't ruin anything. He blushed and his eyes widened when you kissed him, only making you smile even more. (Omg stop, I have to turn this into a oneshot)

Felix

Felix wouldn't be terrible at skating, but he would stumble a few times if not falling over. He could skate forward, but he wasn't completely steady on his feet. You made sure to cling to his hand and try to keep him upright, but he would only drag you down with him. He would keep whispering about how embarrassed he was in your ear, yet you thought the little shocked expression he made when he thought he would fall was adorable and you were glad you could keep it all to yourself. You would help Felix to his feet and continue skating, all before he would stumble again.

Seungmin

Omg wait, hear me out: Seungmin figure skating!!! I feel like the sport would suit him so well honestly, but this lil writing piece is just about skz going skating lol. Anyways, Seungmin would take pictures of the two of you together the whole time and would not stop smiling. Seungmin would stare at you and you would stare back, before someone behind you would rapidly skate in between the two of you, ruining the moment. Seungmin would definitely get angry at the person who skated between you, but wouldn't hesitate to laugh if you fell down.

I.N

Jeongin would be outrageously shy the whole entire time and would not stop nervously laughing. He would be scared to fall and embarrass himself (or you) , and forgot to have a fun time. You would pull him over to the boards and ask him what was wrong, to which he would reply that he was scared to fall and humiliate himself. You made him sit on the bench and watch everyone else skate and fall over, until he understood that falling was part of the experience. The two of you got back on the ice not long after and began to enjoy your time together, falls and everything. When you got back home, Jeongin placed a shy, lingering kiss on your lips and thanked you for making him feel comfortable. (This one would make a really cute oneshot too, what do you guys think?)

[carriesthewind]

I can't stop thinking about the notes on this rage-bait post about To Kill a Mockingbird.

Some of it is the sheer number of people falling for the bait and believing that the school district in question banned the novel:

But there's also this...tone to so many of the notes that I find fascinating. And I think two sets of comments illustrate why:

Every time I look at these tags I feel like there is something more to unpack. If I am being kind of flip, I can roll my eyes at someone "sigh[ing] at the lack of reading comprehension" while falling for outrage bait.

But more seriously, I feel like this comment is completely right about needing to be uncomfortable and leave sterile environments in order to grown and change...but that comment exists in the context of the writer being so deeply uncomfortable at the mere idea that an over 60 year old book will no longer be taught to some children that they completely fail to interrogate the underlying story. There's a failure to take the next step. It's possible the writer was uncomfortable when they first read the novel, but to quote a tag I didn't capture here, it's "one of [their] favorite books." The book doesn't make *them* uncomfortable at all. The writer is not willing to interrogate that the school district might have had good reasons for switching the book out of the curriculum. Instead, they assume that the reasons are because "people don't understand" the book - the writer "see[s] what they look for."

I love To Kill a Mockingbird. (Hell, I'm one of those white future-public defenders who read the book and saw the movie and watched Atticus with my soul in my throat and, while I was not directly inspired by him, he resonated with a deep part of me.) It would be an uphill debate to convince me to remove it from a teaching curriculum - but then again, I'm not in charge of any teaching curriculum and have zero relevant expertise. I've read now a number of different articles and reactions to this incident, and the reactions rarely have anything to do with the reality of what decisions were made and why. You have to jump through numerous links to find what appears to be the original parent complaint:

Yolanda Williams said she found out that students were saying the N-word and laughing in the classroom, and it was offensive. “Students were laughing out loud at the teacher’s response. That’s unacceptable to me,” she told the board. “Is there not a better way to teach about that era and the horrors of that era, other than having kids laughing in class when the N-word is said? It should not be required reading for all students. My child shouldn’t have to sit in that class like that.” “It’s not a conducive environment,” Yolanda Williams said. “It’s not just the book, but supplemental material that had the N-word.

(How much do we value, how do we weigh, one way of learning about the history of racism, against the pain of a black child? Whose comfort are we willing to sacrifice, and for what?)

The second comment I come back to is much shorter, but I feel like it's where everything fell in to place for me:

Were the people made uncomfortable by the book white people? How many of them? I don't know for sure - although I know at least one of the parents, as quoted above, was black - and neither do any of the commenters.

Why do we read "people" and see "white people?" And in a way, I'm asking a rhetorical question - because of course we do, because the tweet is set up that day. And, even more so, of course we do - because the people the book is for are white people.

To go back to the previous comment, the one I can't stop unpacking: the writer quotes a famous line from the book, "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."

And yes, I love this quote.

But.

But.

To Kill a Mockingbird was written by Harper Lee, a white woman.

The narrator of the book is Scout, a white child.

The hero of the book is Atticus, her white father.

The embodiment of the theme, the person whose skin Scout tries to step into, is Boo Radley, another white man.

Do you remember, the man who was murdered? Do you see him in that picture at the top of the post? How long does it take you to remember his name?

When do we step into his skin? When do we walk around with his perspective?

I love To Kill a Mockingbird. But if a school district wanted to teach a book to embody this quote, aren't there so many better ones?

Another commenter on the post appears to have actual lived experience with this book being removed from the teaching curriculum.

[kyeop-tato]

Whispers Between Shadows

genre : fluff, romcom, slight angst

pairing : non idol! lee juyeon × fem! reader (got mentions of other idols / ocs further into the fic too)

summary : fleeing from an arranged marriage and seeking freedom in your parents' homeland, you believe you've escaped—until you meet Juyeon, who might either complete you or bring to your downfall

── .✦ 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

— ⋆. 𐙚 ˚CHAPTER 1 —

"YAH! YOU REALLY FLY OFF TO KOREA?? ARE YOU CRAZY OR JUST HAVE A DEATHWISH?" Minji's shriek echoed through my phone, making me flinch. You bowed apologetically, a blush creeping up your neck as a gaggle of impeccably dressed passerbys gave you curious stares in the gleaming lobby. The air thrummed with the low hum of conversation, punctuated by the sharp click of high heels on polished marble around you.

"Tone it down, will you... And yes, i did. Did you honestly think I'd go through with my parents outrageous plan to marry me off to some random… jerk? God knows what he even looks like" you tossed your hair, a defiant gesture that felt oddly liberating.

"You're looking for trouble, you know that? What if he uses his power and tracks you down? Kinda like a predator stalking it's prey" Minji's voice, usually so bright, was laced with genuine worry. I could almost see her fidgeting on the other end of the call, her perfectly manicured nails probably digging into her palms. You pondered this for a moment, a faint smile playing on my lips, "And what he's gonna do? drag me out from my own country? The very idea is inhumane! I'm not even his wife"

"Don't say I didn't warn you! I've heard rumors of how he tend to do anything to get what he wants, and I just don't want you to get hurt – by him, or your parents," she said, her voice softening slightly. "Aww, you're worried about me, how cute, Kim Minji," you teased, a warmth spreading through you despite the underlying tension.

"Of course! You're my one and only precious friend. Anyway, so how's is it there, so far?" Minji asked, her curiosity evident in her tone.

"Hmm, communicating is definitely a challenge, but it's manageable. I haven't explored much yet; I barely just checked in into my hotel apartment," you replied, your gaze drifting to the panoramic view of the city sprawling outside the window. The city lights twinkled, a mesmerizing display of vibrant energy that both excites and slightly intimidated you. A sense of unease settled in your stomach. It wasn't just the language barrier; it was the feeling of being watched or perhaps it's probably just you being paranoid, the unspoken threat hanging in the air.

Later, you luxuriated in a warm bath, the lavender-scented bubbles clinging to your skin like a silken second layer. Steam fogged the mirrored walls, blurring the reflection of the opulent bathroom – marble countertops gleaming under the soft light, plush towels piled high, the scent of jasmine subtly mingling with the lavender. The tension in your muscles slowly unwound, melting away with each sigh. But even the soothing warmth couldn't completely erase the lingering unease. The city lights outside your window seemed to pulse with a silent warning.

Dragging yourself from the comforting warmth, you reluctantly stepped out of the bath, the cool air a sudden shock against your skin. The plush carpet was a welcome relief underfoot as you padded into the bedroom, the day already fading into a blur, swallowed by the deepening twilight. Slipping into your pajamas felt like shedding the last vestiges of the day's anxieties.

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

Sunrise had snuck in unnoticed, and the afternoon sun was already slanting through the blinds when you finally woke. Your phone buzzed with a furious symphony of notifications – missed calls from my parents, a relentless barrage that forced you to silence the device. Honestly, you hadn’t had a plan beyond the impulsive flight, this trip had been a whim, a desperate act of defiance against a parental edict you couldn't fathom. Why the vehement refusal to return to Seoul, the city of their birth? The question gnawed at you as you prepared for the day, lost in a sea of your own uncertainties, a stranger in a land that held both a mysterious pull and a daunting unknown.

Technology, thank goodness, was your lifeline. A few taps on the smartphone, a quick translation of a tricky word or phrase, and you could navigate this unfamiliar city with ease. It wasn't that you didn't know Hangul, you just hadn't spoken it fluently since growing up in the States. The sounds felt clumsy on your tongue, foreign and awkward. A misplaced syllable, a wrong inflection, and you risked causing offense – a risk you couldn't afford in this unfamiliar country. The chaos back home was enough; you needed a break from the constant turmoil.

The day had unfurled with a sense of quiet promise, a hum of normalcy, until calamity struck in the form of your shoe's betrayal. The sole gave way as if it, too, had grown weary of life’s endless trudge, flapping lifelessly with each step. To compound your misery, the streets were a writhing mass of humanity—workers shedding the burdens of their day, students savoring newfound freedom, lovers entwined in the fleeting glow of evening. And there you were, stranded amidst the throng, a solitary figure in a sea of togetherness.

As you navigated through the crowd, clutching your injured shoe like a fallen comrade, someone collided with you. The impact jolted the last shred of your patience free, and you lashed out, your voice sharp and unkind.

"Watch where you're going, idiot! Can't you see a person in distressed here?"

The man, caught off guard by your outburst, lowered his phone, startled. But as his eyes fell upon you, a shift in his expression became apparent. He wasn't going to launch into a witty retort or unleash a volley of sarcastic remarks as you had anticipated. He simply stared, concern replacing annoyance as he took in the sight of you, one bare foot scuffing the pavement, the other holding the remains of your broken shoe. Whatever barb he had prepared melted away, replaced by something softer. Pity, perhaps.

"I'm... I'm sorry," he murmured, the phone slipping from his ear. His posture shifted, the faintest hint of an offer of assistance beginning to take shape. Yet before the moment could fully bloom, the tide of passersby surged again, shoving him out of your orbit, his figure swallowed by the crowd.

And just like that, the possibility of reprieve—of an unexpected kindness—was lost to the chaos of the street.

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

To make matters worse, every store you entered in search of a replacement for your broken shoe only added to your frustration. Just when you finally found a pair that caught your eye, your card declined. Again. And again. You knew this was coming—deep down, you had expected it. But the realization didn’t make it any less infuriating.

"It’s none other than Dad freezing all my cards—ugh!" you burst out in frustration, earning a startled glance from a nearby couple.

With the sun dipping below the horizon and the shadows of night creeping in, you pressed your phone to your ear, nails brushing against your lips in a subconscious gesture of nerves. You waited for the call to connect, a familiar tension knotting in your chest.

Finally, the gruff voice of your father came through the receiver.

"Dad!" you hissed, your voice sharp with indignation. "Are you seriously leaving your own daughter to starve in an unfamiliar country? You froze all my cards!"

His reply was cool, unyielding. "Come back home this instant if you want them unfrozen."

You rolled your eyes at his commanding tone, already prepared to snap back with a firm, stubborn "no." But before you could get the word out, something shifted in the air. A shadow loomed behind you, and before you could react, a cloth was pressed over your mouth.

Panic surged as you thrashed against your attacker, muffled cries escaping into the fabric. The phone slipped from your hand, hitting the pavement with a sharp, resonant thud. Your struggles grew weaker, the world blurring and spinning until darkness swallowed you whole.

The last frantic thoughts racing through your mind were an echo of Minji's warnings. Was this really the end? Would you survive whoever—or whatever—had come for you?

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

a/n : hey everyone! i'm back with another fic , finally! if you had not read my 1st fic, pls do 😉 happy belated new year btw! 🤧

[candlelightreader]

Last rant to process:

Creative choices are meant to be about the art. The art is meant to be about the story. The story is meant to be about characters following narratives that are embedded within their histories and that show development, growth, and coherence.

In other words, it can be sad, shocking, outrageous, or whatever you like, and if it follows the foundations already established, it will feel right and you will be right there with the characters. If aiming for realism, then it is a monumental fuck up if you can't adhere to neither the patterns of real life nor those of your own universe/characters. Realism doesn't mean documentary. It means you are making sense within pre-established boundaries.

Moreover, you create more questions than you answer...

With Athena reliving her worst nightmare decades later, something she only just got over just this year, what is the purpose? As I already noted somewhere else, what you keep saying about this Black woman not deserving happiness and love and having to simply lose over and over is telling. I would take a divorce where she for once has agency in the matter than this.

The same with Chim losing a loved one on the job all over again in a way that lets him feel guilt over it, but for what? For what artistic reason would you insert such angst when he already revisited this guilt and trauma with Albert and during his weird fever hallucinations?

And Bobby dying despite finally wanting to live is not the true issue. It is just done so badly! It is an afterthought! It is just a little side plot in both the episode he dies and the one where he is bid farewell, rather than a monumental event that it would be. The not making it happen during a series finale makes it especially odd. (Hence the opening for the idea that it is fake or at least will be fumbled enough for people to exit stage left and never return for 9, I guess. I know I'm peacing out.)

But as if that was not enough, you took him away from the home and love he found, back to Minnesota? Why? It's just so very cheap and narratively empty. We never even saw him visit those graves. But, most of all, you mean to tell me the man who was suicidal and who knew his job was very dangerous and who had enough close calls over the years to know this intimately did not leave a will!?? You telling me Athena the cop who almost got killed by a suspect and Bobby her fire captain husband did not already speak of what they wanted with regards to burial and last rites? Also, after him literally quiting over the medal, you're telling me he would have approved of the fanfare funeral and not made it a requirement that he get a simple funeral? Mr. I'm just a public servant himself? Give me a break!

Finally, I don't care how, but you get all the people who played a part in someone's life to their funeral! This is how it works in the real life you are trying so very hard to emulate. People show up to support a family and friends, no matter how far or near they are to the deceased! For Chim, where was Albert? How about the Lees? For Athena, where was Elaine, Rick, and Lou? What about colleagues she's known for decades? Where were the 911 dispatch staff/friends who know Maddie and Chim just lost a major person in their life in a horrible way? Where were the priests Bobby spoke to during his time in LA, particularly the hot priest?

And if you can't have them show up, because of course you probably can't get the actors, you give a damn good reason. You at least show flashbacks of all the lives he touched or you show photographs! You show his life! Oh and his Minnesota chief who supported his move to LA would've been there, even his his crew completely turned their backs to him. His new sponsor after Wendell, where were they? His sponsorees? Like, he had a bigger life than just his death two minutes ago!

And I have not even gotten into the badly written storyline for the fire fam. Acting out of character because a disaster befell you is one thing. But this was just dry. Chim got some sort of look, but the others just were... there. Bad directing and writing? And, there was no need for fucking Gerard. Would've taken Brad over that racist, sexist, homophobic fucker who never apologized to anyone by the way. And you speak of Tommy but he ain't even visible so what's the fucking point? Oh and forget the parents. His mom and brother who they made a whole fuss introducing don't even have a fucking line?

If you want me to believe this, whether it is real or fake, it is just mediocre either way. If real, it's just a major let down. If fake, it is clumsy, silly, and has no pay off.

I'm sorry to overrant but it is helping me process the frustration.

(Edited for typos)