#ILL BE BACK WITH MORE UNSOLICITED THOUGHTS

[loop-deloo]

no idea what album thing that anon was referring to but BOY DO I HAVE RECS:

hopping off their billy joel talk, MY personal favorite bj album is glass houses. some of his best work, everyone’s a banger. i feel like i have some credibility here being from long island, so i have many opinions about our boy billy and their all right.

other albums hmmm. i LOVE the kink’s village green. mystery jet’s twenty one is one of the best early band albums out there, the shit that they pulled being so new is INSANE. also the doors’ soft parade.

one of my favorite albums of all time has to be the lemon twigs’ go to school. it’s an experimental musical about a chimp raised by humans who experiences culture shocks and it’s insane. those boys are my everything, THE THEORY. THE KEY CHANGES UGHHHH

what else what else uhhh talking heads’ more songs about buildings and food is up there for me. moondog’s h’art songs. PAUL MCCARTNEY’S RAM THAT’S THE ONE THAT’S IT.

kinda went off oops my bad. these are just some off the top of my head 🤪 anyways love you let me know if you take a listen i love music talk <333

ok claude you sent this like a month ago, i’m so sorry. it takes me SO long to listen to albums bc i have to listen at least 5 times to be confident that i’ve actually listened to most of it. i get distracted :/ i’m sorry. anyway. i am very much working my way through

here are my thoughts so far but i’ll keep going later.

you definitely have lots more authority than me i’m from philly. tell me more opinions on bj though i’d love to hear. i think i was like a solid 8/10 on glass houses. good story. fantastic work album listened to it for most of the day while i organised boxes of pipette tips and inputted hours of mind numbing data oh my god. also some bangers for cleaning the kitchen. i liked you may be right (kitchen dancing). honestly i liked all for leyna even though it was giving slightly musical theatre vibes. just. solid. and erm also v much enjoyed sleeping with the television on. c’etait toi was very sweet and the smooth voice mm, his accent threw me off a bit but that’s my problem. and close to the borderline was a good second-to-last always brought me back when i’d zoned out. did catch myself singin along when my coworker came in the back room where i was which was. er. we’ll oh well (i can’t fucking sing).

ok i have to go now but i’ve been alternating village green and twenty one in the shower (i lost the songs a lot in here so my thoughts are really jumbled and half done but i’ll write me down soon) and making my sister play doors n lemon twigs in the car. bops. i drive in a car like maybe once a week though so it’s slow going. i will sit perhaps soon and report back.

jesus that was a lot. oh welll. there’s more coming ;D

p.s. thank for this message it’s been making me happy when i come back to it.

GIVE ME MORE (not just putting this on claude. all of u come broaden my horizons pls)

[gothicflowers]

Call Of Duty x GN!Reader

How they would react to you telling them about your anxiety disorder.

Warnings: talks of Generalized Anxiety Disorder. This is inspired by my own struggles as a diagnosed individual with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Please do not self diagnose or glamorize mental disorders or illnesses.

Sitting down for lunch after this mornings long meeting felt like heaven. A much needed battery recharging time for you. Taking a moment to practice your positive affirmations and breathing like your therapist said you felt the anxiety simmer down. Only to be interrupted by a tray being placed on your small two person table.

“You’re kinda quiet and shy. It’s actually kinda nice being around someone that doesn’t feel the need to be the loudest voice in the room.” He nonchalantly hands you an electrolyte drink and takes a seat across from you before continuing his rambling. You look back down at your half eaten sandwich diverted your eyes from his. Eye contact is a struggle you’ve been working on. Still listening to his words you nod your head so he doesn’t think you’re ignoring him.

“I mean we all have to know how to be assertive in this line of work, but I can really appreciate your demeanor as a person. You have a calming energy about you.”

You laughed at his description of you and couldn’t help the words from spilling out. “Thanks, it’s actually just a disorder.” You let out a faint laugh. You always tried to find the humor in your situation.

He was too stunned to speak or finish putting his sandwich in his mouth. He put it back down on his plate before trying to find the right words. He was worried his words had came across as rude and disrespectful. All of which he was trying to avoid.

After realizing your blurted out confession you took a brief moment to compose yourself and your thoughts. Looking up at him you gave a faint smile trying to show you’re not upset. “I have what’s called Generalized Anxiety Disorder. People with the condition can struggle with different things.” Trying to describe your struggles isn’t something you’re great at but maybe he’ll understand? “Personally, I don’t do well in social situations, interactions or speaking up. It sometimes leads to anxiety, stress, overthinking and panic attacks if it’s real bad. I prefer to be hidden in the background away from everyone’s attention. I know my comfort zones and when to push myself. But it’s never affected by ability as a soldier.” You nod your head at your own explanation.

He smiles and nods. “I appreciate you telling me that so I understand you better. I do apologize if me saying your shy or quiet came across rude. I genuinely find you to be a great person to be around.”

“Actually you probably went about it in possibly the kindest way I’ve ever experienced. I’ve been told my quietness is rude or snobbish. Which is far from how I want to be perceived. So I actually appreciate someone taking a liking to it.”

It was nice being able to have a conversation about your disorder without feelings judging. Nor did he offer unsolicited advice. Instead he recognized that it was something you don’t openly share and appreciated your trust in him. And his opinion of you didn’t change. After feeling closed off from your team you felt a little more comfortable, with him at least.

Alex Keller, Rudy (Roldofo) Parra, Gaz (Kyle) Garrick, Roach, John Price, Nikolai, Logan Walker

[daydream-believin]

That Was Hot But Maybe Don't Make A Habit Of Doing That Babe

warnings: well. assault. transphobia. some of my more. uh. salacious work. never proof read.

word count like barely over 1k.

---

“Aren’t you afraid? Out here insinuating that God made a mistake.”

You clutched your red solo cup a little closer to you, trying your best to ignore this acquaintance who thought she had a right to corner you in this living room and tell you what she thought about your sinful lifestyle. Because that’s what you come to house parties for, to give other guests unsolicited advice on their mortal soul. You took a deep breath, schooling your expression as Jessica prattled on.

“Your body is a temple, you know. You can’t just do whatever you want with it. It’s sacred.”

You stared at her thick eyeliner, wondering if she used a stencil or something to get the wing that smooth. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a “messy bun” and a quick glance at her feet proved she was wearing white converse. So, a woman who’s bitter about having never been sold to one direction for gambling money, it looks like. You’d never seen her outside of a professional setting, so this was a curious insight on her personality, if the glaring red flag of this entire conversation wasn’t that already.

“Is that so,” you said in the bored-est tone you could muster.

“It’s a shame, really. You could’ve been a good wife and had a family like God intended, but no man will ever want you until you quit it with this. Such a waste.”

Ah, and there’s the reminder that she doesn’t see you as anything more than your uterus. Jessica swept her eyes over your form, so tight to the wall you were up against that you might have to unstick yourself from the wallpaper after this. You watched her as the look of disgust graced her features. The other people at the party may as well have been shadows, just you and the she-wolf here in this moment.

“And you’re not fooling anyone, hon,” she snorted, “Honestly, anyone can see you’re just a woman who really let herself go.”

“Excuse me?” you said through gritted teeth.

She grinned like a shark, “I said I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve only gotten fatter and uglier since this whole thing started. You poor girl, letting your mental illness ruin you like this. Maybe if we had gotten you into a good makeup artist--”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before the fist collided with her cheekbone. Your eyebrows hit your hairline as you instinctually tried to back further into the wall.

Ah. Looks like your boyfriend finally got here.

“Holy shit man! Did you just punch out that chick?”

Doux stared at his still-raised fist, in disbelief himself that he just did that. “Uh…” he trailed, “I’m a feminist?”

You glanced over to her. Jessica was too caught up in gripping her newfound nosebleed to pay any attention to you.

“OKAY,” you grabbed his shirt collar, “We need to go have a serious conversation, right now,”

You headed off up the stairs of the house, pulling Douxie along as you heard Jessica whine,

“Perfect, I got blood on me. This blouse is ruined.”

Well, at least she was madder about her dry cleaning than the getting punched part.

“Did anyone see who the hell did that?”

..Okay maybe not.

“I don’t know, Jess, it happened so fast, sorry. Let’s get you another drink, yeah?” You heard the host tell her. Fortunately, no one at this party was keen on the idea of having the cops called, so you could count on them to diffuse this situation for you.

You quickly found the upstairs bathroom, right where you remembered it. Luckily wide open and vacant. You shoved Doux inside, locking the door behind you. He awkwardly perched on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing his now sore knuckles, as you turned around to glare at him. His gangly legs kind of reminded you of a spider as he stamped his feet in annoyance.

“What. The fuck. Was that.” you stalked towards him.

“I’m not about to defend my need to defend you.” His tone was fast and angry, telling you was still riding out the adrenaline high from instigating a fight. He stood to meet your level. Or slightly tower over it, as it were.

You grabbed his collar again. Douxie stared you down as you leaned into his space, and he pushed himself into yours until your noses were brushing, pupils blown wild.

“I’d say it’s my responsibility, even.”

You aggressively kissed him, clacking your teeth together, but neither of you seemed to care. Your hands pinned his face into yours, and he grabbed your hips, pulling your body closer into his.

Your lips dragged together in a dance. It was amazing how easily he could make your head spin. Douxie moaned into you, and you, not for the first time, wished you could get a recording of that sound to play over and over again. You smiled into the kiss.

His hands roamed up to your ribs, fingers digging into the flesh of your chest beneath him. You gently bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, suckling an apology as he made a noise that could only be described as a hot little whimper.

You started walking him backwards, until he hit the wall behind him. You pushed a leg in between his, and an arm up on the wall beside his head, trapping him against you. Well, not trapping. He was bigger than you and could overpower you anytime he wanted to. That just made it sexier in your opinion.

He pulled back slightly, just to run his tongue over your lips, making you gasp and provide an opportunity for him to push in past your teeth. Doux moaned as he ran his tongue over yours, driving you crazy. God, you loved how vocal he was. And you loved tasting his breath like this.

Douxie continued exploring your mouth like he hadn’t memorized the pattern of your teeth by now and you let him have this bit of dominance over you, considering you were currently boxing him into the wall. He dragged his tongue along the roof of your mouth, and your brain shut off. Nothing was happening except this feeling. He was the only person in the world and--

A loud bang bang bang from someone knocking on the door reminded you where you were. And there were in fact more people here.

You pulled apart, gasping for breath. His face was adorably flushed.

“Just for the record, I wasn’t reprimanding you," you told him breathlessly.

“I can see that now.”

You snickered as he started fixing his hair in the mirror in an attempt to look less disheveled. It wasn’t going to matter when you both walked out together, but sure.

“I know the party just started but we might need to leave already.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. we ‘might’.” You smiled up at him, as you took his hand, “C’mon let’s get out of here before Jessica sees me again.”

[ladythot]

Just thinking about how the baki men would react when they see a porny picture of a girl in a website filled with ads or like an Instagram thirst trap makes me laugh. This is like, a funny fun kind of ask, I just wanna see what your thoughts about their reaction would be *snorts and slams the table numerous times before the joke even comes out*

Consider me snorting at the thought of one of them ending up jerking off to the picture

Baki

He's scrutinizing the picture if the girl caught his attention with no ill intent—but later on he finds himself riling up before he closes the web and calls for kozue.

Remember that one time baki domoe motobe izou magically formed into a girl as an illusion and it was making baki almost drool? A cheap trick could get him cowering on his knees. In my opinion, I mean my most certainly self opinionated conclusion, baki occasionally wonders how a body much different from kozue would feel like in a naive way of depicting imagination.

Katsumi

Has a deadpan expression plastered on his face before he stumbles onto one. His eyes would dilate at the picture as he mentally slaps himself before exiting out of the web. Immediately checks if his vpn is still on for some reason

Mumon

Swipes the mouse way faster than he should but later scrolls back up little by little as curiosity kills him to think about taking in the picture once more even when he considers himself as a non coomer. And he should be looking at bankable jobs not girls

Katou

He'd be invested to think that the site showing him unsolicited ads could be handful or truthful for that matter, he's a guy with nothing to brag about. He's a man without much female companion and their company, let him caper in his shallow desire. But of course, he's still wary about scams—doesn't stop him from watching cute streamgirls though. He's gonna scourge and reverse the image just to find who the girl is shown in the picture

Jack

He's disappointed at women showing their bodies. Especially when he's just looking for a new shirt to wear, man. (That's jush how canon Jack is) but fanon Jack? Let me hear you say he could only live his fantasies within pictures of his type

Hector

It might just be me, but, I have a feeling he takes his time to look at egirls in their natural habit in all kind of pics especially if it's suggestive; knife, chains, and smoking? He gets the inspiration. But a stray porny advertisement being shoved in his face is like him being assaulted through the screen

Sikorsky

Me thinks that he will click on the ad that says about a girl 200 meters away waiting for him and get hacked

[streaminn]

Was just thinking of a headcanon for #hermitenidau. What if when Wednesday realized that Enid was the one, Enid had already managed to find happiness elsewhere. Much like Wednesday's husband, Tara looks very similar to her. But what adds to the pain is that Enid only noticed after falling in love with her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After so much pain and suffering, she finds herself gathering enough broken pieces to be able to offer, once again, something that on the best of days bears resemblance to a heart.

It catches Enid off guard. She had already settled for an empty life, merely paying her dues until her body gave out, until her walking carcass finally stilled.

And then, she smiled. It had been so long since she felt the curving at the ends of her mouth that, at first, it didn't even register. Until she noticed a long forgotten warmth permeating her chest. After God only knows how many years, she felt something that wasn't hollowness or anguish.

The situation had been so unserious. Enid was slumped against her favoured seat at the local bar, nursing her fourth double scotch of the night, when it happened. To her right, a petite young woman appeared to be suffering through unsolicited and undesired advice. Her back was to Enid and right in front of her looked to be a socially unaware dipshit. By the looks of it, his dim-witted contribution to the one-sided conversation seemed only to be outshined by his sleazy appearance. His scalp appeared to be composed of more gel than hair, his buttoned shirt was opened to his navel and the pungent stench of cheap cologne was stifling to a normal human, let alone a grownass werewolf.

"Ya know, you're pretty hot. You'd look even hotter if your arms weren't so hairy." The absolute buffoon spouted.

For a brief moment, the woman seemed to still, as if the obviously unimportant counsel had struck her more harshly than expected, a potencial insecurity having been prodded. And maybe that was what propelled Enid to intervene, the familiar paralysing shock of hurt from destructive criticism.

"If you think her arms are hairy, you should see my ass." The werewolf piped up.

The reaction was instantaneous, the combination of a snort and a guffaw exited the lady, whilst her pursuer choked on an ill-timed swig of beer. Even the lurking bartender wheezed at the umprompted commentary.

If asked what happened next, most patrons would respond with 'friday night entertainment'. Enid disagreed, for her, it was the beginning of the end.

In a short interval of time, several things occurred - the girl turned around, eager to identify her rescuer, with one of the most beatiful dimpled smiles Enid had ever seen; the impudent cretin thought it fit to threaten assault on the werewolf and a sudden wave of silence percolated the bar.

"The fuck do you think you ar-" Came out of the man, hand fisted in the front of Sinclair's shirt, only to be interrupted by the slow, continuous rise of its victim. The imbecil could only follow the werewolf's movement, dread quickly making its way down his gullet.

You see, Enid Sinclair is by all intents and purposes an anassuming individual. Tipically seen slouched and clothed mostly with loose-fitting wear. So, naturally, the man imagined her to be an average, meek woman. That assumption was quickly shattered as he gawked at the small mountain of a person. She had, at the very least, half a head on him and the calloused mitten of a hand that encircled his own, told of an umatched power. The odds were not on his favour.

"Want me to take out the trash?" Enid questioned the bartender. A quick thumbs up accompanied by a smirk was answer enough.

It was truly majestic the way the werewolf tightened a hand to the man's scruff and another to the back of his jeans effortlessly sweeping him off his feet. The walk to the entrance was as unhurried as could be and once the double the threshold of the double door was reached, the squirming bag of entitlement was quick to take flight, landing head first onto the old metal bench on the other side of the road.

Once Enid made sure his landing site did not block the pathway, she returned to her waiting scotch, another right next to it, on the house of course. Upon sitting, she downed her glass and rose the new one to the grinning bartender, in appreciation.

A "Hi." made its way to the werewolf's ear. She turned, coming face-to-face to what she now noticed was the shorter than expected target of obnoxious flirtation. "Thank you. For what you did. Witnessing his removal was worth the interaction." She giggled.

"It's fine. Rodrigo" Enid nodded at the bartender "pays me a commission per garbage disposal" raising her glass.

The woman's smile seemed to brighten, her dimple even more pronounced. She struck her hand out. "I'm Tara."

"Enid." The werewold returned the handshake.

"So..." A blend of amusement and curiosity shone on Tara's eyes. "How hairy exactly is your ass?"

Whatever sentence Enid expected to come out of the shorter woman's mouth, this was not it. So unexpected it was, she couldn't stop the curl of her lips.

Enid paused for moment, realizing that for the first time in a really long while she felt a spark of enjoyment.

"Let me take you out to dinner and I can show you." A blush and a grin bloomed on her face.

-green tiger

HELLO?? ENID/TARA CONTENT??

Tara gasps, a hand to her mouth in obvious fake surprise "On the first date Ms. Trash taker!?"

Enid shrugs, a smile that she knows is way too obnoxious to be true on her face. "I can be a ms. Tara taker if you'd like."

"lets see after the third date," Tara says, winking and woah, there's just something about her smile that has a feeling burning in Enid's stomach.

"I'd like that."

[henryshakesmear]

Soo, since I recently gained a bunch of followers, I thought I'd make a lil introduction for my blog.

My name: Henry or any funny insult you can think of

My pronouns: He/him

My age: Legally 18

Where I'm from: Northern Germany

Languages I know: German and English fluently, some French and some Japanese

This is my main blog and I use it for memes, shitposts, fandom posts, my original art and some social commentary.

My wizardry gimmick blog is @youreawizardhenry

The mandatory terms and conditions for interacting with my blog:

(If you skip them, you're on your own)

If you're under the impression that you may be related to me, get the hell out 💀

I generally don't post sexually explicit content here, but I discuss/portray mature political and social topics. There will be violence, gore and possibly suggestive content in my art. So if you're under 18, be aware of the risks and if you're under 15, please don't delve into the depths of my account. I am, however, not going to try and check the age of everyone in my notes.

If you have a history of mental health issues and content concerning existential dread or suicidal ideation triggers you, this blog is NOT for you.

I don't censor words. This has come up as a problem in the past, so be aware. (No, this doesn't mean I throw slurs around. I only use slurs I can specifically reclaim, and even that rarely.)

I rarely reblog art by other people and I will make sure to point out which specifically is mine. I don't mind if you repost it or use it in good faith, as long as you don't pretend it's yours or use it to spread any kind of hate.

This is a safe space for ALL members of the LGBTQIA+ community. We do NOT remove the T and we do NOT exclude bi or pan or ace or aro people. The same goes for microlabels. Everytime you complain about how many genders there are, we invent five more.

This is also a safe space for people of color, people of any ethnicity, people from any country, neurodivergent people, mentally ill people, disabled people, chronically ill people, therians and furries. (I'm not too educated on some of these topics, but the general rule of thumb is if it doesn't hurt anyone, it's safe here.)

I'm an atheist and I will criticize some aspects of religion or make fun of it lightheartedly, but religious people are also welcome here.

What I will NOT tolerate: Nazis, pedos, racism, xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, TERFS, hate directed at any specific kind of queer people, ableism, fatphobia, slutshaming, both religious doctrine AND anti-religious hate, hardcore capitalists because they just annoy me, Tate's boyfriends, proshippers that consider pedophilic or incestuous ships to be okay, rape culture, people who make light of any sort of abuse, any kind of unwarranted harrassment, ragebait and advertisements/self-promotions.

I block fanfiction writers because I don't want to see fanfiction on my dash. It's not personal.

I'm cringe, I'm aware of it, I will continue to be cringe and you cannot stop me.

If you send me an unsolicited dick pic, you'll get one back.

(This section may be subject to changes in the future)

[rainbow-tazer]

Hello 👋

I figured since I'm trying to organize and clean up my blog a little I should do a little introductory post on here to let anyone who wishes to follow this blog know a little more about me. 

My name is Tazer

I'm 26

bachelors in psychology (if anyone cares about that kind of info) 

pansexual 

a traditional artist purely as a hobbyist

horror media lover (so I may occasionally feature gore).

420 friendly neighborhood stoner 

gay nerd so anime or video game content featured on top of all the LGBT+ content I'll reblog  

As for the personal content I will be posting, as mentioned earlier I enjoy art so sometimes I may post mine (most likely my tv headed OCs) and if its late enough or I'm high enough ill treat you all to a little bed time story (aka things that keep me up at night from my life). Heck sometimes ill even share my personal thoughts, cause I have a lot, on music and stuff if I'm feeling real frisky lol. 

Anyways come chill with me in the void, if you like what you see feel free to follow me, if we have similar taste I'll most likely follow you back. Also feel free to ask me anything your curious about or DM me, even if you just want to talk about fandom or need unsolicited advice from a stranger, I got you (cant promise it will be good advice though lol).            

[regulatedchaos]

Why me

Around 8am still no answer and he's not home yet so I decided to open his FB and contact every single one whom he chatted last night and asked where could he be and Boone knew. 1030am may sumagot sa phone ni Cassie taga Greenwich. May nakapulot daw phone nya.

I asked mcjhay for help kung wpede nya ko Pag drive to find Cassie but didn't reply. I had to go and look for him something doesn't feel right. So I asked jing if Mak can come with me sa morayta para retrieve phone ni Cassie and ikutin mga comp shop to look for Cass. Without any hesitation pinapunta nya ko sa QC. I lied to my parents that I'll go to my OB and get some lab tests and mom asked "magkita Kayo ni cassie?" Sabi ko oo and mag lunch kmai. I can feel her worry cos he's going out every night. I said yes without knowing how will I find him and if I even will. Got to jings house around 11am and male late na lang daw si jing sa skul kasi sasamahan nya ko 😭😭

Kaween and mewy always check-in in on me. Idk what to do if I don't have them.

Got to 4 or 5 comp shops showing Cassie's photo hoping he's been there or someone saw him. Then 2 police stations. Hate the 2nd precincts chief so fuckinv condescending. There's a particular police civilian who helped me and said we should start from Greenwich crew who gave me the phone then went to barangay to review CCTVs and this is 330 pm. Saw him running sa kanto and his phone dropping. But idk where he is going. Tapos may biglang tumawag sskain malik Mata pa ko Cassie it's Cass, handcuffed and barangay captain spoke to me that he's there and safe sa Fairview. We got there after more than an hour and along the way I bought him shirt and slippers. Sobrang swerte na ilonggo yung captain non that kept Cass and there's no kulong and I didn't pay anything can't help but shed a tear everyone there was so helpful. Rn I still have no idea how he's gone from morayta to Fairview with no phone and money.

I don't even have the energy to be mad. I'm just relieved his safe at the same time I can't help but question myself why do things happen to me WHILE I'm 7 months pregnant.

I told him that I will book him to iloilo and spoke to tito(asked a favor if he can stay there until his mind clears and gave me another unsolicited advice na baka nasasakal si Cassie or pinepressure ko like wtf you're not helping tapos sisihin mo pa ko? Since Cassie spoke highly of him I asked kung may kilala sya sa morayta na wpede makatulong he said none; he's just as useless as I thought) he said he doesn't wanna go to Iloilo and just wanna be with me but I don't feel safe with his unpredictable behavior esp now I'm pregnant. Still in the car rn going home and I'm so drained and tired.

****Got ambsuhed be everyone in morayta being a Marcos fan

- how did they know?

Now they all hate me..

- who does?

Tapos napunta ako sa Fairview nanakawan CP I'd etc (I found his phone at Greenwich remember? Idk why he's not telli g the truth, he could be hallucinating from hunger, thirst, idk)

-ano sinakyan mo? And Saan ka uminom

"you think your dad was in on it" "is he God?"

His eyes. He looked like he was drugged. Fuck

He was shush-ing me cos he said people from the laptops are hearing us. It's paranoia. Prolly to much weed plus the midlife crisis. He always thinks peole are trying to kill them and I can't send him to iloilo cos they are gonna kill him.

So what am I gonna do?

We talked and I asked to just worry about me and papicito and that no one cares about him and he needs to stop thinking that everything is about him people worry too much about their own lives they don't care about yours. Just worry about me and papicito. Told him to stop fucking networking and go back to reading and affirmations upon waking up and look for a job.

22:03 He's so dirty I asked him to shower he said Kar was peeking fron the other house, sumilip ako and wala naman :(

He's not done hallucinating :(

He's asleep and I don't think Ill ever know what happened.

2Oct2023

[writer59january13]

Fretfully aching to feel fit as a fiddle

After experiencing a severe, albeit violent near lethal bout

of irritable bowel syndrome (yesterday night August 30th, 2023)

triggered courtesy dulcolax caplets plus

healthy portion of lentils, I (a beatle browed, foo fighting,

night ranger needing nirvana)

imperiled me to twist and shout as a whirling dervish analogous

to F5 tornado bread a deep purple to kiss earth, wind and fire hopscotching across terrestrial plain.

Irritable bowel syndrome

in my pinion wracked

lower abdominal area (mine) bubbled, gurgled and ballooned

sub stomach gastrointestinal tract

vis a vis flatulence crooned in tandem with subsequent expulsion

explosively eliminated fecal waste witnessed this scribe forcibly

zipping, sprinting, jetting to bathroom,

self propulsion (a race against time)

nsync with contraction of sphincter muscles'

spasmodically, desperately braced

body electric of mine hurled

at light speed across the universe

courtesy unpleasant symptoms

that mimicked anxiety/ panic attack,

which tortuousness, odorousness, insidiousness,

horrendousness, gaseousness, arduousness... played mean game of (gastrointestinal

knick knack paddywhack havoc.

Ofttimes in the past

irritable bowel syndrome

affrighted, afflicted, and affected me,

hence yours truly no stranger

to making light of offal plight and even managing to craft poem

else my alias not mister rhyme stir,

who found himself held hostage self barricaded in the water closet, where thoughts about mooning

did not crack a smile,

more explicitly baring derriere

tubby more exact humor did little to cheer me up -

matter of fact

no source of laughter manifested, (despite usual presence of chuckles

from this fan of good humor) hijacked for what seemed a maternity leave

from all mothers tub be

thus envision, a bevy of pregnant gals

aching with cramps heave

ving (times square of the hippopotamus)

with cervix fully dilated key

ping alert, when mother nature ready

to pull out all stops (via umbilical cord) to deliver bundle of joy followed

in quick succession with after birth re:

placental sack, hence

said effort to expel newborn

the closest scenario

experienced ill suited

to Saint Vitus dance afflicting this anxiety prone

lovely bones, an all expense paid (seat of the pants)

accursed bane of proletariat grants no truce to attend

found me pampered doubled over stance.

Modus operandi to distract against acute pain crisis yielded impossible mission

exhibited courtesy haphazard poem

awaiting unsolicited feedback across rock of ages woke beguiling ghostly busty spectre courtesy Marie-Antoinette, (i.e. bride of France's arty choke King Louis XVI) bespoke

let him eat cake, and (sic) send back the bloody bloke,

aye suddenly begot idea rye Jack Corner of zee desk didst impale and provoke moderately painful injury right side rib cage

analogous to intriguing unfortunate circumstance mysterious secret shrouded

as dagger and cloak

(think Alfred E. Neuman, viz MAD Magazine), yes no joke

lovely bones of me body electric,

(particularly right side rib cage)

severely traumatized, nailed, injured...

crucified oft told umteen times,

yet omitting key mirrors and smoke,

significant Dorian Gray parallel,

when former antique,

viz secrétaire looking glass reflection, spider hairline fractures radiated

resembled bay of pigs in a poke

ham handedly oinked, quaked, shattered... broke

into bajillion pieces deafening, exploding, glowering thunder stroke jagged shrapnel size shards

unleashed cosmic force

lacerated, gnashed, beribboned...

impeaching flesh with one engulfed masterstroke,

no rhyme nor reason aiming to choke

off promising poet (ha) of corpse

resembling scrambled egg yolk posthumous fame besmoke

salvaged mine besmirched reputation courtesy humble cartoon character

bugs bunny and kinfolk spoke

daffy fully goofily

eulogizing humor did evoke.

[interlunium-opus]

▶︎ DANCING WITH THE DEVIL. [Sunghoon.]

Abstract: You've always felt it in your guts that something is off about the campus heartthrob, Park Sunghoon. Being more of a rational person however, you tried to bury such gut instincts, chalking the dislike towards his wealth and pretty privilege instead. Not that your feelings matter though, you two are two world's apart, which means you two are bound to never get any closer. That is, until an ill-timed encounter with him at a party seemingly have led your worlds to collide because since then, he grew into a looming presence in your daily life. He was always around and always watching. The more you tried to avoid him, the closer he got and eventually you were forced to spend more time with him than you ever wished to. The more time you spent with him though the more you discovered that he was far from the arrogant airhead you pictured him to be, he was in fact, smarter and more diligent compared to the average Joe. In other words, your negative impression of him all these while had never been more wrong. Or so you thought. Because of the rare times your gut instincts turn out to be correct, it was actually for this one too -- but by the time you realize it, you already had your guards down.

Genre: vampire!sunghoon | horror | thriller | fantasy |||| wc: ~21.1k

Warnings: blood; slight suggestiveness; mentions of crimes (missing persons, murder, serial killings); manipulation.

Taglist: @axartia

“He’s staring at you again,” Sunoo, your bestfriend, whispered, “Park Sunghoon, I mean.”

You followed Sunoo’s gaze and indeed staring back at you from across the lecture theatre was the campus heartthrob, Park Sunghoon, with gaze unflinching even after you had caught him staring. What a psychopath, you thought to yourself when suddenly, as if reading your thoughts, one corner of his mouth lifted forming a coy smirk, catching you off guard and forcing you to break the eye contact. 

This was in fact not the first time that he had seemingly engaged you in some sort of silent unprovoked and unsolicited rounds of staring contest. It was the third time for this week alone. So far however, you hadn’t been winning — not especially when his stare had always have this sort of unexplainable intensity that pierces right into you, in spite of the distance, as if threatening to bore holes into the back of your mind. Perhaps that is what people were talking about when they harp about just how ‘magnetic’ or ‘hypnotising’ his gaze are. Though to you they felt rather unnerving and invasive. Like that of an old painting whose eyes seem to follow you wherever you move in the room.

“it’s all in your head Sunoo,” you replied dismissively, shifting your attention back to the board where the professor had just written down some important takeaways from last week's reading on Hobbes' Leviathan.  

“You wish it was. Pretty boy is still staring by the way,” Sunoo clicked his tongue, “at this point, either you had crossed him or he’s got a crush on you.”

“That’s a whole load of rubbish,” you elbowed Sunoo, trying to get him to shut up so you can continue concentrating in class and stop hearing anything about Sunghoon especially when you already get an earful on the daily from his horde of fangirls who are always singing praises about his looks, his stature, his manner and his wealth. Unlike the rest of the campus though, you have never had a good impression of Sunghoon. Born with both good looks and wealth, no example best display wealth and pretty privilege better in campus than him and his pretty friends who struts around in campus clad in all designers with special parking spaces reserved for their Teslas, Benz and Beemers while also having a whole room in campus dedicated for their hangouts like some sort of a secret student society.

Now and then though, in between the blind praises, you can hear wicked rumours spoken in whispers about these boys: their underground and political connections; all the drugs and booze; nepotism; and the list goes on. It’s unsurprising just how rumour-abound these boys are though. Afterall, not much is known about their families except that they are rich and powerful that no one in their right mind would dare to cross them. Legends are abound of what befell those who did cross them or their family, none of which end well: they either fall to the bottom rung of society or disappear off the face of the earth. 

“And he is still staring, go figure,” Sunoo scoffed, leaning back on his seat with arms crossed, looking offended as if he had been the one getting the stare down,  “You sure you haven’t done anything y/n?”

“Dude, what could I possibly have done when all I do is stay cooped up in the library or at home?” you retorted as a matter-of-factly. That was however a lie — though only partially. Truth to be told, you had a vague assumption as to why Sunghoon has been shooting daggers through his eyes at you. You believed it could be traced back to a party hosted two weeks ago by Jay Park, one of those influential one in Sunghoon’s circle, which Sunoo had dragged you into.

Long story short, in an attempt to escape the rowdy crowd, you wandered around their bachelor pad in search of quieter corners only to stumble upon Sunghoon making out with the Cheer Captain in one of the empty living rooms upstairs. You remember scoffing at the sight, suddenly reminded of all the A’s Sunghoon has gotten for all his Economic modules despite his absences in classes. Well, that’s a no brainer since he’s dating the Faculty Head’s daughter, you thought to yourself, still grimacing at the sight of her straddling his lap with her head thrown back as he feverishly buried his head on the crook of her neck. 

Sunoo would have loved a shot of this for his gossip column, you thought to yourself when suddenly you feel something shifting in the atmosphere. The next thing you knew, Sunghoon had lifted his head up, his eyes meeting yours immediately and directly in such a chilling precision as if he knew exactly that you had been standing right there and watching. In that instance, you swore, you felt the temperature in the room drop while the lighting around the hall grew dimmer. You remember swallowing thickly and backing up slowly, feeling small under the weight of his intense gaze and what seemed like an inhuman glint in his eyes which had sent shivers down your spine. You took off not long after, out of the hallway, out of the loft, not even bothering to tell Sunoo that you were leaving early.

That was when it all started, you reckoned. Because since then, you turned from seemingly being invisible to him to being in his radar.  Whenever your eyes accidentally landed on him in campus, you’d find that he was already staring but unlike any normal person who would have immediately stared away, he would maintain the eye contact as if wanting you to know that he had been meaning to stare. His lips would then often twist into a wry smile as if taunting you. It was as confusing as it was annoying because with all the stare down, it was almost as if you had witnessed him murdering the girl rather than making out with her. 

“I have a really bad feeling about this though,” Sunoo grumbled, interrupting your train of thoughts.

You scoffed, “I’ve told you a million times before that his vibes are always off — not that you’ve ever believed me anyway.”

Whatever, it will pass, you reassure yourself. 

Except it didn’t and nothing could have prepared you for just how badly things would unravel with Sunghoon.

“I just saw the announcement on the board earlier,” you said the moment you took a seat next to Sunoo the next day in Macroeconomics class, “the cheer captain got replaced?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, who are you and what have you done with y/n? She would be caught dead reading announcements from that corner of the hallway — if anything she’d be frequenting the notice board next to the City Hall instead — the one with the missing people and whatnot,” Sunoo remarked sarcastically before schooling his expressions after you shot him a glare, “I’m sorry. I repent.”

“Anyways, as I was saying, isn’t the match coming? Why is she suddenly getting replaced?” You repeated, taking your laptop out as more students rushed into the lecture theatre, filling it up with cacophony of noises.

“Well, the official story is that she fell off the pyramid and broke her leg. Since the match is coming, they can’t afford a limping captain can they? So off she went,” Sunoo answered sassily before smirking, “would you like to hear what I heard through the grapevine instead?”

“No-“

“Heard girlie is pregnant,” Sunoo cut you off, flashing a triumphant grin.

“Dude,” you gasped, looking around to make sure no one had heard it, “what did I say about rumors — if you don’t see it with your own eyes or hear it with your own ears, you pipe it not spread it.”

“Uh, if the shoe fits,” Sunoo quipped with a shrug, “Also, come on. I write one of the most highly-demanded columns in our campus newspaper so my sources are reputable.”

“Define reputable,” you answered sarcastically but Sunoo just ignored you as he began again, “As I was saying, she has been acting all sorts of weird lately — lethargic, forgetful, dazed — well you name it. She hardly attended practice and when she did, she could not execute her moves well at all. The next thing you know, she fell off the pyramid and broke her leg. Since the competition is coming up, they can’t be waiting around for her so they decided to swap the cheer captain. Must be devastating for her though — girlie is so ambitious to top everything, the cheer, and social circle and well, it’s all dust now. Doubt Sunghoon would stick around anymore, that boy got the hots only for the IT girls and well, she’s a has been now.”

“Good morning class,” the professor entered the room, silencing everyone almost immediately, including you two. All of sudden, the image of the cheer captain feverishly making out with Sunghoon from the other night popped into your mind. Your eyebrows knit in disgust at the memory.

“Anyways, maybe that’s why Sunghoon has got the hots for you as of late,” Sunoo giggled, jutting his chin out forward, beckoning you to follow his gaze. To your horror, sitting across of you in the front row, at the opposite side of the theatre, was Sunghoon, already staring back at you.

“I just realised that he has been taking front row seats too as of late, just across of us. They have always sat at the back, or just didn’t show up at all. Coincidence? Me think not," Sunoo winked at you, smirking mischievously.

“Can you stop? He is not staring at me," You rolled your eyes with disdain, "and I don't know why they have started to sit at the front. Maybe they've come to their senses and have started to realise that they should work hard in classes like the rest of us instead of bloody buying their way in all-”

“Y/N.” 

You jolted slightly in your seat, startled, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. You bit your lower lip anxiously, wondering if the professor had called your name out to reprimand you for talking in class. Fortunately, that was not the case. Instead, you became this week's victim for his usual surprise Q&A, "Last week we spoke about policy dilemmas especially in this era of new normal. Based on the reading I have asked you guys to do, what do you think is the best policy prescription that countries can adopt now considering the persistency of volatilities?” 

“You got this girl,” Sunoo quickly whispered while giving your hand a quick squeeze for support. You squeezed it back, before standing up to answer the professor's question, "At this stage, whether we like it or not, fiscal stimulus is highly needed because the inflation represents like a double-whammy to a the battered society. If we don’t help protect people’s rights to an adequate living standard in light of current situation, not only will their welfare be heavily compromised but the economy would slide into a recession due to the stalling demand which would leave the government with more thorny problems to solve.”

The professor nodded in agreement. As he opened his mouth to praise your answer however, another hand rose up from the crowd — it was Park Sunghoon. 

“Sorry Professor, I’m sure that that is indeed a true solution for certain times but we are potentially entering a new era in which inflation levels might stay elevated so if we continue to cater for the masses through fiscal stimulus — we’d be chasing pavements especially since the problem are also heavily driven by supply-side constraints. If anything, I believe it is time to pull back on the demand-side to lessen the pressure on prices,” Sunghoon explained, his eyes fixated on you throughout as if it had been a two-person debate with you instead. As soon as he finished, the corners of his lips twisted into a smug grin as if proclaiming victory. Unlike other times when you stared away, this time you held his gaze. Your brows furrowing in vehemence as this had been the umpteenth time that he had raised his hand to counter your points.

Normally, you wouldn’t even bat an eye to it. After all, you love listening and engaging in healthy debates. But with Park Sunghoon, it felt oddly personal, like he was trying to one-up you at everything — as if he had got a personal vendetta against you. Just like his unsolicited staring contests, he had begun countering any points you present forward, turning a simple Q&A from the professor to you, into a debate between you and him — an unsolicited debate, that is. Regardless of the modules, he would always find a contrasting argument to yours — trying to beat you as if someone was keeping score. 

Calmly you argued back, “I agree that that is a good argument against the use of fiscal stimulus but we are not facing just another one-off policy problem. We are also in a crisis. If we don’t protect people’s pre-crisis living standards, not only will their welfare be heavily compromised, demand could plunge and pull the economy down the recession rabbit-hole. So until the economy is decisively restarting, we need fiscal stimulus to continue fuelling the gears of the economy. Then we can wean them off it and tap on other policy tools like monetary policies. Not to mention the use of fiscal stimulus can also help address some of the supply-constraint problem that drove up inflation in the first place as it could also be channeled towards re-employment, investment, expansions and so on.”

“Wow,” the professor gave an applause, a proud smile adorning his lips, “You two indeed have showed the crux of the policy dilemma that countries face. While in normal times, both of your policies are perfect solutions — in crises, they can become a double-edged sword. So the answer is often in weighing the risks carefully — to weigh which policies should be leveraged more on further, for how long and how to ease it off in the mid-long term to prevent adverse implications from fossilising. Good job you two. I haven’t seen such contentious debates in a long time — I can die peacefully now.”

The class roared in laughter along with the professor as you two sat back down, eyes still on one another, the smirk never leaving Sunghoon's lips and the scowl never leaving your face. At this rate, it really did seem like he was one-upping you. That he had a bone to pick with you.

As soon as the class ended, best believe Jay was the first to poke fun at Sunghoon’s active participation in the lecture. With a sharp-angled jawline that looked like it could cut glass, and sharp deep-set eyes that are well-framed with strong arched brows — Jay is very masculine-looking and can come across as very intimidating. Despite that however, he is actually the social butterfly and the jokester in Sunghoon’s little clique. In other words, if you get pass his intimidating looks, he is actually the easiest to befriend and get along with.

“Are you trying to switch your reputation from being the campus heartbreaker to the campus nerd?” He raised his eyebrows as he sat on the table, waving at some of guys and girls that passed by who greeted him before they exited the hall, “You have been on a bloody roll in lectures and seminars these days. At this rate, you’ll end up as the teacher’s pet. Unless of course, that’s what you wanted, wait— is there a MILF that you’re trying to impr-“

“I’d wash your mouth with bleach if I could,” Jake smacked Jay by the arm. Jake, the blonde one, with the chiseled face, wide smile and plump lips, on the other hand, looks like the easiest to approach as he gave off Golden Retriever vibes though he is actually one of the most cunning one in the group with a penchant for flirting. “Nothing is hotter than a man with both looks and brains so whatever shit Sunghoon is trying to pull, I’m pretty sure it will bring more girls which translates to, more meals,” he added, snickering.

“Yeah, your mouth will get half of that bleach too Jake,” Heeseung chided, taking a jab at Jake as he joined them, “what did I say about being less explicit and crude when conversing? Do I have to print out a proper glossary for you guys? I have a reputation to uphold as part of the Student Body remember?”

Heeseung is the oldest one in the clique, the one that is pretty much the boy of every parents’ dream: handsome, an honor student, head of the Student Union and pretty much an ace, being able to master almost anything he decides to dabble into. Being the ”oldest“, he takes it upon himself to make sure the boys behave and do not step out of line.

“Pfft, loosen up,” Jay sneered, “most of the suspicious things we say are taken as innuendos anyways so we’re good. Had this been the 17-18th century however, we’d be burnt at stake.”

“That’s because your crowd are mostly those kind of people-“ Heeseung rolled his eyes at Jay before noticing Sunghoon spacing out next to them, “hey pretty boy stop staring at her, you’re burning holes.”

“Right… what is up with you lately,” Jake elbowed Sunghoon, “Found a new potential toy? A meal?”

“Might be a pest but I still can’t decide yet,” Sunghoon answered flatly, arms crossed as he leaned against the table behind him, eyes fixated on you. 

“Well for a pest, you sure are taking your sweet time brooding over it,” Jay mocked, “Have the accident with your most recent toy gave you some sort of trauma?”

“I wish I had made it into a real accident myself, then I wouldn’t have to deal with her calls,” Sunghoon scoffed, seeing his phone lit up for the umpteenth time from the same person this week: the Cheer Captain.

“Can’t you pick up her call at least once?” Heeseung sighed, “you owe her that much after ruining her life.”

“Don’t be overdramatic, it’s just a broken leg,” Sunghoon’s lips curled into a wry smile, showing a lack of remorse, “Also, how is that my fault? It occurred like a few days after that night so it’s all on her. She should’ve gotten a transfusion or get an energy drink if she feels lightheaded or weak.”

Heeseung sighed. This is the thing about Sunghoon — he has no tact at all which sometimes meant that Heeseung has the be the one cleaning up some of the little mess he stirs up. But then again, it is still much better compared to the mess that Jay and Jake stirs from being the more flamboyant, reckless and hot-blooded ones in the group. 

When Sunghoon looked back up from his phone, you were already done packing your things up, sharing a hearty laugh with the pale guy next to you as you two made your way out of your row. Sunghoon grabbed his backpack, looking like he was about to walk up to you. He was a step too late though as a red-haired guy beat him to it, greeting you loudly with a dimpled smile. He recognized the boy since his face was always plastered over the University’s notice board and paper. He’s the campus Taekwando champion, Yang Jungwon. 

“Tonight?” Sunghoon heard him ask you. You nodded, answering, “Yep, same place and time yeah?”

With that you headed out of the room, paying absolutely no attention to Sunghoon, as if he did not exist. Sunghoon scoffed, that was one of the growing list of things that irked him about you. The fact that you never showed him any other expressions than that of disinterest and contempt — the latter of which has to even be purposefully elicited from you such as by publicly countering your points in class and whatnot. He didn’t know why this irked him so much when he is already smothered with so much interest and attention already on a daily basis from half of the uni’s population, and you’re just one person, of no significance to him.

Whatever it was, he did remember when it all started though — it was the night of the party. As if imprinted into his brain, he remembered your expression of disgust during that night. The way you scoffed and rolled your eyes when you saw him with the Cheer Captain. He knew full well that you did not clearly see what he was doing but the expression struck a chord in him.

He was getting sick of the Cheer Captain and her constant need of attention and affection. His mind was also starting to tread dangerous waters, thinking of how unfair the relationship was on him. After all, she got everything and anything a human could possibly want in a relationship by dating him: a hot boyfriend with looks, brains and wealth, which in turn also shores up her reputation as the IT girl in campus. But there was honestly nothing to be gained for him from dating her, except for making him appear more humane, in Heeseung’s words, and perhaps to satisfy his carnal desire, though he hadn’t even have much of that to satisfy in the first place. She would go through lengths though to make sure it is fulfilled but at the end of the day, it still felt lacking for that was not the hunger and desire that he really needed to satiate. 

Unbeknownst to him, his head had travelled down her neck, triggering his own hypersensitivity towards the blood that was coursing through her veins. In the dangerous cocktail of thoughts and proximity, his throat dried up and his mind went on free-fall as soon as he sank his teeth onto her neck. He could feel himself losing control but he didn’t care, he was really getting sick of her, of everything — he could take care of another dead body easily so he thought, why not?

So he did. The euphoria, especially after depriving himself of fresh blood for a long time was off the charts. But it did not last long for he felt someone else’s presence nearby. As he lifted his head up directly towards the direction of that presence, he met your gaze, your face already contorted in a grimace at the sight. Being quite a prideful as a person, he did not take the your look of disgust well — not when it came from a mere mortal whom he could have killed in a heartbeat. But of course, that was not the sole reason as to why Sunghoon got so worked up. See, Sunghoon was always praised for his ability to restrain himself from devouring human for their blood. Unlike other vampires, he actually preferred to stick to bagged-blood diet for sustenance instead of hunting or preying on mere mortals. Other vampires might see this as discipline of the greatest form — something exemplary and someone worthy of utmost respect especially since times have changed which forced them to be extra cautious at liberally hunting human just for their blood. 

But the real truth is actually not so rose-tinted though it is something that only Sunghoon himself knew. Despite Sunghoon being amongst the elite of the vampire classes — the one with the pure-blood lineage, old money, and diverse and high education background — deep-seated within him was a hatred of his own nature. He loved control and order. With his wealth, intelligence, looks, charisma and magnetism — it was not difficult at all to either maintain or gain such control and order. The only thing that he failed to control was his thirst for blood when it does dawn. For a being that is supposed to be one step higher than mere mortals, the sight and smell of blood can immediately deprive his kind from any sense of rationality and free will — the satiation of which turns even the most noble into a beast, basically no different than an animal. Him notwithstanding. He hated that feeling — of losing control, of letting his hunger overthrow his rationality and consciousness. The disgusting aftermath of which serve as a reminder just how much of an animal their kinds can be. It all just feels like a vulnerability to him. Hence, he begun to depend on bagged-blood instead. Aside from being fuss and mess-free, a plus for a rather fastidious lad like himself, he won’t lose control. The constant uptake of which also help keeping him well-satiated which in turn helps him to withstand any direct exposure to human blood. But then again, he is loaded with lots of connection so it is relatively easy for him to source them. For other lower-class and average vampires however — they have little to no choice. Of course, he has not completely abandon such dietary needs yet. He still prey on people if they are easily accessible to him, which is pretty much all the time, given how people just buckle easily under his charm, wit and personal magnetism without him having to do much. It’s like they just willingly serve themselves on golden platter for him. Still, compared to other vampires, he always displayed more class and restrain when hunting/preying which explains his rather low body count. 

This is therefore why your expression of disgust that night, when he had lost control of himself in what he would have described a ‘moment of weakness’, struck a nerve in him. It was as if you were taking a jab at his deep-seated inferiority complex. You, a mere nobody and a mere mortal. Anger thus immediately rose within him at that time, as evidenced by the the drop in temperature and the dimming of lights in the room which reflect the sudden shift in his energy. Long forgotten was the limp body in his embrace for all he saw was you. Vexed, it occurred to him there and then to hunt you down and make you the next cold case in town though Heeseung came in just in time to warn him that he was almost draining his trophy girlfriend bloodless, kicking some sense into himself and stopping him from preying on another poor victim. 

Ever since then however, he cannot help but pick you out in the midst of the crowd, only realising that you two shared a few modules together as if you are just destined for him to mess with. He ran with it. Without realising however, in the midst of the constant in his life that was becoming boring, you somehow became a new point of interest in his life with your quirks and habits. Like a scientist fixated on a specimen, that is. Not to mention, he was beginning to enjoy the micro-change in your expressions which he can elicit from you just by staring you down or engaging you in a debate. 

“Well, if you need a new toy,” Jay slung an arm over Sunghoon’s shoulders, transporting him back to reality, “I know one that is just as perfect as your previous one. I happen to know that the new Cheer Captain got the hots for you — how does a new trophy girlfriend sounds like? She is also hosting a party tonight so you know…”

“You can take her,” Sunghoon cut him off, shoving Jay’s arms off his shoulders, “I’ve got more interesting thing to do.”

“You’re early.” 

You hear soon as the door of the personal study room you were in creaked open behind you. 

“You mean, you’re 5 minutes late?” You retorted as you swivelled around, expecting to see Jungwon, your partner for your Macroeconomics project. Instead of the red-haired cat-eye lad however, you were greeted by Park Sunghoon — the last person on earth you would expect to bump into in the library.

“You don’t look very happy to see me,” he said flatly as the door closed behind him, “I’m offended.”

“Uhh, this room is occupied and booked — in case the sign outside isn’t clear enough,” you replied curtly, “I’ve booked this room a week ahead already so you can’t just barge in and take this room okay? Follow procedures for once.”

“Well, someone already has a clouded opinion of me apparently,” he smirked, grabbing the chair that was across of you to your side, “you should consider being nice to me now. I’m your new project partner afterall.”

You stared at him in disbelief as he calmly sat down, “New partner? No, that can’t be right. It’s been 3 weeks, why would the professor suddenly change my partner?”

“Well, it’s not like the assignment of project partners have a statute of limitations,” Sunghoon shrugged before propping up his chin with his elbow on the table, facing you, “Regardless, I’m your new partner so get over it. I’m Sunghoon by the way.”

“Um duh, your notorious reputation precedes you, I know your name,” you replied as a matter-of-factly, flipping the pages of your notebook.

“I’m touched,” he smirked, “I know yours as well, it’s y/n.”

“mmhmm,” you gave him a quick glance, looking uninterested and unimpressed, before your eyes travel from the mind-map in your notebook to the opened email app in your laptop, “Let’s just crack on then. So, Jungwon and I have already discuss the potential structure and have also divided the tasks between ourselves. The parts highlighted in turquoise are his and in yellow, are mine. So far we have been doing the groundwork research for our respective parts. We are meant to meet again next week to piece them all up together and see what kind narrative we can go for in response to the question. But now that you’re here…” you drummed your fingers against the table, assessing the mind-map of work division on your notes, “the most straightforward way to divide the task between you and me would just be for you to take up Jungwon’s share and just continue where he left off. But I can see how that can be unfair since you weren’t the one agreeing to those share of subtopics in the first place so if you find any of the topics that I am currently doing more easy or comfortable to venture into — feel free to take them, I’ll switch them with yours. Don’t worry, I’ll hand over all the research and analysis I have done so far so you can build on it should you wish to pursue them.”

You looked up, slightly startled to see his face so close next to yours as he peered over to see your notes while calmly reassuring you, “don’t worry, I’ll take his share. You can just continue with yours.”

“If you say so,” you nodded in acknowledgement, quickly scribbling some notes on the mindmap, “Moving on. Like I said, we were meant to meet again next week to piece it all together. But, since you’ve just jumped in, I would have no problem postponing that — just let me know whenever you’re ready. Maximum by the end of this month I guess? So that we can have the structure and a definite direction ready at least.”

With a smug grin, he leaned back, “Oh please, no need for that. I’ll get it ready by next week. It would be as if nothing had changed.”

“That’d be perfect then,” you replied before shutting your laptop close, “I’ll email you the materials, template and some references.”

“That’s it?” he raised his eyebrows, watching you pack up.

“Unless you have any questions?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, “just thought we’d be doing it together.”

“We will. But at this stage it would be more efficient to do some of the deep research individually since there are so many grounds to cover,” you explained, “And since it’s individually done at this stage — we don’t have to stay together. I’m pretty sure you’d rather be anywhere but here and be with anyone but me anyway.”

“That’s not true. I could have just sent you a text or an email if I didn’t want to spend time with you don’t you think?” 

You scoffed, slinging your backpack over your shoulder as you headed for the door, “See you next week, just email me if you have any questions or anything.”

Without sparing so much of another glance nor a wave, you exited the room. 

“How annoying,” he muttered as soon as the doors close. Though seemingly looking calm and unperturbed, his clenched fist and the slight twitch of his eyebrows indicated otherwise. Suddenly, the lights throughout the library flickered, startling everyone including yourself, who had just exited the lift. Only when he unclenched his fist did the lights stop flickering. He does not really like using some of his powers as it drains him easily especially in the absence of fresh blood but as of late — he had found himself uncontrollably tapping onto them.

No cross that, he thought, you made him resort to them.

“Told you we would find our boy in the library,” the blonde boy, with the golden-retriever energy, exclaimed as soon as he reached the top of the mezzanine floor, skipping happily towards the lad who was all hunched up over his desk at the corner. Sunghoon did not even bother looking up, knowing exactly who the owner of the voice was — it was Jake.

“Hi buddy,” Jake grasped him by both shoulders as if trying to scare him, not that Sunghoon budged. The lanky guy, with sharp eagle-like eyes, Jay, joined not long after, scoffing at the sight of all the works messily strewn across Sunghoon’s desk as he picked up one of the books on his table, “Really? You’re putting a massive blow on our image Sunghoon. I mean even the official nerds aren’t in the library at this hour.”

“Can’t you read the sign? This is the quiet zone,” Sunghoon emphasized, snatching the book that Jay was holding up, “Oh wait, I’m talking to the guy who kept on flunking his classes from one century to the next.” 

“Hey, I still score higher than you for Politics and History okay,” Jay retorted, “Also, I mean — come on, you’ve excelled in almost every classes in every century — how many more do you want? Are you not bored yet chasing such trivial pursuits like these mere mortals.”

“I don’t think the grades are his endgame,” Heeseung quipped, joining the boys last, jutting his chin towards the side of the ground floor where you were seating at, totally oblivious of the ruckus over the mezzanine floor.

Recognising the girl to be the one always in a heated debate in lectures with Sunghoon, Jay rolled his eyes, “Seriously dude? If you have a bone to pick with her just finish her out quick. You act as if you cannot just easily take her out. Why are you playing some cat and mouse game with her? Are you that bored now that your trophy girlfriend isn’t around?”

“Maybe our little prince here is loving the chase,” Jake touted, grinning mischievously, “We are predators after all — the chasing part of which can get even the sanest of us high. That is, if hunger does not overtake it.”

“Look, I don’t mind your little games,” Heeseung interjected, resting his hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze which felt far from comforting but more like a warning, “but you should be careful. You have been unnecessarily reckless as of late. First, the cheer captain then the taekwando champion — two important people in campus, two ended up hospitalised. If people around here were any smarter, they could’ve sniff out some similarities between the two cases which could put us in danger. This is no time to be playing around when beyond campus, missing people cases are already on the rise.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sunghoon shrugged Heeseung’s hand off, looking up at him with an almost taunting stare as he sneered, “Didn’t you hear what they all say? The cheer captain fell off the pyramid whilst Jungwon passed out from severe anaemia.”

The grin on both Jay and Jake’s face immediately dropped with the former almost gasping out loud, “shit that was you? Wait — if you’d been that bold and reckless as of late, you should have no problem preying on her. Instead you’re resorting to some lame cat and mouse game with her.Geez, what is wrong with this lad.” 

Indeed, like a true predator, he could just make things easy for himself by preying on you at your most vulnerable, which is pretty much most of the time for you. After all, you frequent quieter hallways, spaces and streets; you stay until graveyard hour at the library; you go home at the dead of the night and you’re pretty much alone half of the time he saw you in campus. Basically he had plenty of opportunities to do so. But he never did. Instead, he just observe you from afar or tail you — as if you’re a specimen, not a meal.

“Did she hit a nerve with you?” Heeseung raised his eyebrows, noticing the slight twitch in Sunghoon’s eyebrows as soon as he said it which confirmed his allegations. You can always leave it up to Heeseung to hit the nail right on the head. Sunghoon suddenly remembered the look of disgust you flashed him the night of the party. The contempt he felt never went away, it builds up the more he sees you. Most of the time, you act like he doesn’t exist — not even paying him the slightest attention unless forcefully elicited through some prolonged eye-contact or public debates. But even during those times, you either immediately stare away as if he was not even worthy to be stared at. Lately, in fact, you even purposefully avoided him. If he was in your lane or in a room you were heading, you just turn around, as if he’s a plague. Without realising, his hand was already curling into a fist, a glint sparking in his eyes as it stayed lock on you over at the ground floor. It was all painfully noticeable to Heeseung who then cautioned him, “You better nip the obsession in the bud Sunghoon. Don’t drag it out or else I’d have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sunghoon murmured, the corner of his lips lifted, forming a wry smile, “I’ll let her stay on her high horse for a bit — let it get higher, even. That way, when I push her off it — it would be one. painful. plunge.”

Heeseung sighed, shaking his head dismissively, “You’re calm and disinterested most of the time. But when not, so vengeful and obsessive.” 

“Explains why no one dares to cross him,” Jake shrugged, “Anyways, we didn’t go all the way here to study or chit chat. We’re here to drag you to the party Sunghoon. So come on, pack up and-“

“Told you guys I wasn’t joining,” Sunghoon replied nonchalantly, brows furrowing when he spot your friend entering the study hall, skipping happily towards you.

Jay chuckled as he stood next to Sunghoon, as if rejoicing the fact that nothing can be done on Sunghoon’s part anymore, “Well, not much you can do tonight it seems — girl is occupied now. So, what do you say? Shall we head to the party? You’d be obsessing over the missed opportunity all night so better drink it all up tonight, no?”

Sunghoon glared at Jay before exhaling sharply, “Fine.”

Over at the side, by the bannister, Heeseung stayed silent as he watched Sunghoon, his eyes looking stern. Noticing his grave expressions, Jake approached the older guy, trying to lighten up the atmosphere for him, “Sunghoon has been so disinterested with life for quite a while — the change is kind of exciting to see no?” 

“I’d rather he turn her into the next cold case in town than let him play mind games with her,” Heeseung mumbled, face impassive, “He can grow too obsessive to the point of irrationality that it can put us all in trouble.”

“Oh lighten up hyung,” Jake nudged him, “He’ll probably get bored of her soon.”

Except, Sunghoon never did for it became a new habit from then on, to stay until the dead of the night at the library just so that he can be around you. He was not really sure why he would do such a thing for there never really had been any plan in mind. He just saw you walking to the library one day, followed you, saw you stayed and decided to stay as well. He kept himself occupied too while at it since you spent ingloriously long hours in the library and he cannot just sit around and watch you all night. Since he had always loved being alone, the dead silence of the library during graveyard hours provided him just the respite he needed from the all the ruckus he had to face from being the campus heartthrob. He is quite intelligent and cerebral too so doing work for real in the library did not felt like a chore — it was rather enjoyable to him. He was able to see how theories and schools of thoughts that rose to prominence during 'his time', now dismantled by another school of thought. So feeble, he thought, the ebb and flow of human life and thoughts.

Now and then however, whenever he glanced up from his work, he would find his eyes landing on you over at the ground floor. Like gravity always pulling things back to earth, his eyes just always find you. Sometimes he would feel compelled to just walk up to you, strike a conversation or just bother you but somehow whenever the desire to do so was the strongest, the pale guy that was always with you would appear. He noticed the guy would often come by around midnight, skipping happily across the carpeted floor, and not long after, you would pack up and leave the library with him. It was as if he came by just to fetch you — like a parent or a guard dog, he thought.

Tonight however, your little guard dog was nowhere in sight. As if the stars were aligned for Sunghoon too, you had somehow dozed off in your study carrel — giving him an easy excuse to come up to you in case he needed to justify himself. He carefully approached you as the clock chimed, noticing the way your shoulder rise and fall with every breathing, the look of ease that spread across your face, the way your hair softly fell over the side of your face and the fact that you were still holding onto your pen, the ink bleeding onto your notes as it stayed on spot for who knows how long.

As if there was a magnetic force in between, his hand had already reached out towards you, gently tucking strands of hair that had covered your face, behind your ear. The warmth of your skin electrifying against his freezing hands, it was almost comforting. Instead of stopping, his hand continued travelling downwards, from your cheeks, to the side of your jaw then to your exposed neck. Suddenly he can feel the shift within himself. With his senses heightening, he was now becoming hyperaware of your beating pulse, which he could feel right under his fingertips, and the blood coursing through your veins. He swallowed thickly, feeling his judgements starting to become clouded when suddenly your eyes fluttered open. Startled, you jerked backwards in your seat in surprise, smacking his hand away in the process, “The fuc—“ 

He stared at you, deadpanned, as if he had not just done anything remotely suspicious nor invasive, “Are you always this jumpy?"

“I- well what were you doing anyway?” you asked, flabbergasted, your heart still hammering against your chest. You realised that the place was empty save for both of you.

“I wanted to wake you up, it’s midnight,” he answered as a matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” you took a quick glance at your watch, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you were thinking so negatively of him, “yeah, you’re right. I must have dozed off. I should pack up. Sorry about that—”

“No… wait—” he held onto your wrist gently, stopping you, “Stay for a bit. I have something to ask.”

You looked around, wary of the security guard who should be doing his rounds by now. It was already half past two. By then the security guard would have lost his composure if he found out you guys were still in the library when you guys should have long packed up and leave as the library should have been closed 30 minutes ago, “I- uh, I guess we can do a quick one before the guard comes.”

“Oh don’t worry. He won’t,” Sunghoon muttered quietly. You gave him a quick side-eye as you sat back, wondering how can he be so sure but decided not to ask anyway. Truth is, he had made the security guard doze off earlier so that he can spend some time alone with you. But you did not need to know that, he thought, smirking to himself.

“So,” he began, placing his laptop on your desk as he lowered himself down your level, “You said, we could use these sets and these right? Perhaps we can add another? As a dummy variable? I’ve selected some years where like absolutely nothing out of norm happening. And then, I’m also thinking that we can trial 1980s data sets, it has similar noise to your 1950.”

You looked closely at the data sets he highlighted which indeed showed similar contexts, “That’s true. They were indeed times of distress which could serve our narrative well. Wow, I should’ve thought of that. But anyways, yeah sure we can add a dummy variable and trial that one period. They seem to be highly correlated which can help us support either arguments. I actually, saw some similar arguments from these authors —”

But Sunghoon was not listening at all. As you were busy raising some important points, his attention had long darted away from the project, to you. From the way you gesticulated to make your point; the way your eyes sparkled as you explained your points thoroughly; to your plush lips; then down to your exposed neck and collarbone — suddenly reminded of the warmth of your neck and pulse that he could feel right underneath his fingertips just moments ago. Without realizing, he found himself slowly leaning in, getting delirious from the thoughts which were further intoxicated by the captivating and alluring smell of your perfume — a delicate blend of green, citrusy, and woody notes. 

“You smell nice,” he murmured, his breath tingling against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Excus-“ you turned to face him, about to shoot him a glare, only to suddenly get caught off guard by the proximity between your faces. His stare was deep, almost sultry, as it bore onto yours, making you gulp nervously as you backed away slightly. The proximity and the uncalled-for comment was really triggering your flight response but as he had placed one hand on the edge of your table and the other on your seat’s headrest, you were effectively caged in.

He, on the other hand, was unflinching as usual and as if he could read your mind, you notice the slight twitch on the corner of his lips and eyebrows — looking as if he was satisfied seeing you flustered. Snapping out of it, you pushed his laptop and papers back towards him, “do you not have any concept of personal space? Move back. You’re hogging my share of oxygen.”

Grinning coyly, he straightened back up. He knows not to push buttons too far. Not this early at least, "Why? Did your heart lurch?”

“No, but my hands were just about to had you gotten any closer,” you deadpanned, rising up from your seat, realizing that he might have had underlying intentions —whatever it was, “Anyway, sure. Trial them. I’ll add on with the justification if the results are favourable…” you continued as you pack up, “We’re done right? I’m heading home.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“There is absolutely no reason to. Dont you live like at the high street or something — that’s the opposite way,” you countered, throwing your backpack over your shoulders and making your way towards the door. 

“Which is why I have a car,” he emphasized, following closely behind you, “I can drive you. The bus doesn’t run anymore at this hour right?”

“Doesn’t really matter, my accommodation is still within walking distance,” you maintained, suddenly wishing that the guard would show up and interrupt you guys. Sunghoon was getting really pushy and considering all the weird moments you two shared, you were starting to get really uncomfortable.

“Haven’t you heard of the rising cases of people going missing? it’s not safe to be out and about alone.”

“I’d rather be caught dead than be caught riding your Benz,” you scoffed as you reached the lobby, “You should go home too. Your pretty face is a better catch than me in its entirety.”

He smirked as he outpaced you, grabbing the door handle before you could, “well, not all predators target the same prey.” 

You looked up at him quizzically. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, “be careful then", before pushing the door open for you, gesticulating that you are free to pass through. You wanted to reply him, to have the last word but decided against it. So far, any small talks with him will just snowball rapidly into something else, just like a trap, so without wasting any more time, you brushed past him, putting your headphones over your ears as you walked down the tarmac path towards the main road. As you walked though, you could not help shake the feeling that there was a slight edge in his voice when he cautioned you earlier.

The end of another week rolled by. End of weeks are kind of special for you and Sunoo because if you guys plan to walk home together, you guys would make sure to take a slight detour to the 24-hour bubble tea shop in the city centre as a little reward to yourselves for working hard in campus all week. That was indeed the plan for tonight too but you have just received a text from Sunoo earlier to not wait up. He was told that his dance club was suddenly invited to perform at a big event next week so he would have to practice until much later from tonight onwards. Thus with no one to remind you of the time, you got so engrossed in your work at the library. Not to mention, the guard, yet again, was nowhere in sight so you overstayed your time.  

“Where’s your little guard dog?” 

You jumped in your seat, startled, “of course, it’s you,” you huffed, hands flying over to you chest in an effort to calm down your heart that had almost leapt out of your body. It was Park Sunghoon, again.

“For someone who is kind of fearless, you really are jumpy,” he mocked.

“Excuse me, you’re the one who snuck up on me,” you retorted, “Also what guard dog?”

“You know, the pale dude who is always with you,” he replied as he casually pulled one of the empty chairs and dragging it to your side, “the one who looks like a fox."

“His name is Sunoo and no he is not my guard dog,” you corrected.

“I hope not your boyfriend either?” he quipped, eyebrows raised, lips curled into his usual playful smirk.

“What is it to you anyway?” You shot back, eyeing him suspiciously as he took a seat beside you, placing his bag between your seat and his, “Also, what do you want from me this time?”

“Geez, you’re always so friendly,” he remarked sarcastically. 

“And you’re always up in my business,” you replied sardonically, plastering a fake smile, “no seriously though. If you need anything from me, just shoot now. Before the guard comes, we are like overstaying our time here again. If he sees us, he’d go ballistic.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he grinned coyly, “I know for sure he won’t.”

Your brows furrow over his overconfidence again but decided not to think much of it, again. It has been 3 weeks since you guys started working together and naturally, since you two had to meet once or twice a week over it, the animosity between you two, or rather from your side, have slightly dissipated. All the contemptuous debates and snide remarks have been replaced with productive discussions and playful banters. That being said, you still maintain an arm’s length with him. Nothing good comes from getting close to a heartthrob, you reasoned.

“Did you see my email?” he asked.

“Oh sorry, I haven’t. Wait a sec,” you turned to your laptop, downloading the attachment, “Oh, so you’ve done preparing your parts already?” you mumbled, scrolling through his part of the slides that he just proposed to add a week ago, “this is—”

“Good?” he interjected, grinning smugly.

“Yeah,” you nodded, giving him a quick smile — probably a first, he thought. 

“Well, you look very surprised I’m almost offended,” he propped his elbow against the table, his chin resting on his palm, “You must’ve thought there is nothing going on for me except for my looks huh?”

“And your wealth too, I might add,” you replied nonchalantly, typing away, “To be honest. I didn’t think you were going to do your part. In fact, I was so prepared to pull the all-nighters to pull off your parts in case you bail.”

“Wow,” he bemused, “You sure are colder and more tactless than you look. Thought we just needed some time but it’s still very business-like between us.”

“Well, I mean the only thing that holds us together is this project so -“

“So, let’s change that then,” he cut you off as he rose up, suddenly packing up your books and notes that were strewn across your table.

“Uh, what are you doing?” you looked up at him quizzically as he picked up your backpack from the ground and put the books and papers into your backpack as if it was his. 

“I want us to be closer,” he winked before slinging your backpack over his shoulder while carrying his own backpack over the other shoulder.

“It’s 3 AM,” you protested, trailing behind him as he marched for the door.

“So? You usually leave late from the library anyway.”

“Yeah, studying,” you emphasized, trying to snatch your backpack away from him but he was too quick in dodging you. With a triumphant smile, he walked in a backwards manner, “come on, just some late-night snacks and some chit-chat that’s not macroeconomics. Don’t you think I deserve just that much considering how good of a project partner I’ve been? Even Jungwon can’t do half as good of a job.”

“I’d rather you be one of those freeloading group mate then,” you folded your arms, annoyed.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he finally asked, head cocking to the side.

“I don’t.”

“So you like me?”

“I also don’t.”

“Ouch.”

“Just give me my bag back,” you extended your hand, beckoning him to return your backpack.

He stared at your extended hand for a few seconds before grasping it instead, “Not a chance.”

“Hey-“ you shrieked as he pulled you along and exited the library. You sighed, relenting, letting him drag you towards the corner of the street just outside campus where a few food stalls were still opened, “What would you like?”

“Wait...” you stared at him in a mixture of disbelief and amusement, “The Park Sunghoon eats at stalls?”

“What?" he teased, "You weren’t expecting a Michelin-starred restaurant were you?”

“Of course not. I’m not you,” you scoffed, shaking his grasp off of your hand, “I’m just surprised you’re not as out of touch as I thought you were.”

“Trust me, I’m full of surprises,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes though you immediately changed your expressions as you turned towards the seller, beaming, “Can I get 2 Bungeoppangs please? Thank you.”

“Make that 4,” he added, offering the lady a wad of bills, beating you to it, “Oh it’s on me — I mean I’m the one who dragged you so late at night.”

Not a fan of being indebted, especially not to this Golden spoon , you quickly slip your money into his pocket, “Oh please, I’d never let you have that pleasure.”

“That’s fine,” he clicked his tongue, “I’ll just keep on dragging you for midnight snacks until you let me treat you. Here you go,” he grinned as he handed you the paper bag containing your orders. You scoffed realizing that he had just trapped you.

“So,” he started, beckoning you to join him to sit at the stairwell nearby which was looking out towards the distant cityscape — its lights twinkling like stars, “since you’re so hell-bent in showing that you don't like me, would you mind enlightening me on what you honestly thought of me?”

You stared at him in confusion, wondering what he was planning up his sleeves this time. Wiggling his eyebrows, he reassured, “oh trust me, you can’t hurt me so shoot away.”

“Fine,” you shrugged, “I thought you were a good-for-nothing airhead who floats through life all thanks to winning the genetic lottery and daddy's money."

He snorted before pressing his tongue against the inside of one cheek, staring at you with a look that seemed either he was proud of you or he just didn’t believe how vile your words could be, “Wow, and I thought I was tactless. You’re worse.”

Truth to be told, that initial negative impression of Sunghoon that you had, have already begun eroding the more you interacted with him. Instead of the arrogant, good-for-nothing airhead that you pictured him to be, Sunghoon turned out to be a smart, diligent and an agreeable lad, making you feel like a total prick for thinking otherwise. Not that you want to admit that to him though. His self-ego was already so inflated as it is.  

“Don’t worry, this level of unbridled tactlessness is only reserved for those deserving of it — like you,” you plastered a smile before taking a bite of your food, surprised by how good it was.

“Well, it must have have hurt your pride to know that I am not just wealthy and handsome but also,” he paused for extra emphasis, “brainy and competent in, I dare say, everything.”

“You’re shameless,” you scoffed but the corner of your lips were uncontrollably lifting into an amused grin.

“Hey, being humble isn’t my thing,” he clicked his tongue.

“Yeah I mean, being humble isn’t on-brand for you. I guess some people are just born lucky to have the whole package.” 

Suddenly, with a slight glint in his eyes, he uttered in a low voice, “if it’s of any consolation, I do have a major weakness. Would you like to know it?”

You held his gaze, unsure of whether he was serious, he was flirting or he was messing around, “I am pretty sure there is a catch to that.”

“Of course, you’re a good economist so you’d know that there is no such thing as free lunch,” he grinned smugly, leaning in closer, his lips just inches away from your ear, “it would cost you your life.”

“Wouldn’t even be interested in it even if it is free,” you whispered back.

With a grin that was unreadable, he leaned back, propping his back with his hands on the ground behind him, "you're like the personafication of the Great Wall or something, so hard to break.”

You just gave him a slight smile before continuing to stare at the view ahead, not minding his words. Sunghoon, on the other hand, had his eyes on you. Thinking quite literally of how hard it was to break the invisible barrier between you two. Sure, you were not as prickly as you initially were but it has been almost a month and the pace at which it was all developing was too slow for him. Just then his phone buzzed as a text had just come in.

Sir. It has been done. I’ve coaxed the tourism committee to give the spot to your university's dance society. Had to double the amount offered though. -Mr. Han.

Sunghoon was going to ignore the text but then another thought dawn on him, I should kick everything up a notch, he thought, as he fired a quick reply to Mr. Han:

That's fine. Need you to do something else asap. Will call you soon.

Patience was, afterall, never part of his virtue.

“I’m sorry,” Sunoo cried out for the umpteenth time over the phone, “I know I promised that tonight would be my treat but the head of the dance team isn’t satisfied with our performance so he’s making us practice until dawn. AGAIN.”

“Dude, it’s fine,” you reassured, making your way down the sidewalk, past the bus stop, “this could be your time to shine. There might be entertainment companies there so you might get scouted. All the more reason to practice hard until dawn.”

“That would have made all the all-nighters worth it,” he sighed, “Anyways, alright I won’t hold you any longer or else you’ll be going home even later. Point is, get a taxi okay? Don’t walk all the way back. You heard the news lately.”

“You are worrying about the wrong person,” you sung, “alright then, I’m going to cross the street now. See you in class tomorrow!”

Oddly enough while it was only 12 AM, the streets were already so eerily empty tonight, the silence of which was deafening. In fact, even after having walked for almost 10 minutes by the main road, you have yet to pass by a single vehicle nor person and it was beginning to fill you with trepidation. Perhaps the rising number of missing cases were really starting to instil fear and paranoia amongst the townsfolk, you thought. 

While that has never deterred you from going home late or being alone since you were never the type to get easily scared, something felt awfully off tonight. Besides your neighbourhood resembling more and more like a ghost town the farther you walk, it was just too still, too quiet. When you reached the end of the alleyway that you usually use as a shortcut, you threw one last glance behind you, trying to make sure that no one had been following you. Thankfully, indeed no one had — filling you in with relief but making you feel stupid for being too paranoid. When you turn back around however, you almost bumped into a tall figure, all clad in black. “It’s awfully late to be walking all alone don’t you think?” he asked mockingly in a gritty voice.

Before you could even react however, his hand was already on your arm, his sharp nails digging into your skin. The next thing you knew he had dragged and yanked you to the side, into another darker alleyway where the dumpsters were. Pain shot all over you as you got hurled onto the hard gravelled path. Looming before you was the man, laughing deviously as he lowered himself. He was probably around 25, pale and gangly, with a rather sinister wide smile plastered over his face and an inhumane glint in his eyes like that of a cat's tapetum lucidum, glowing especially in the dark.

With adrenaline and fear now on overdrive, you sprang to your feet, ramming him out of the way with as much strength as you could muster, sending him tumbling backwards with a loud groan. Without sparing another second, you sprinted off, taking every turns you can take in the hopes that the non-linear path you had taken would have thrown him off your trails. For a moment it seemed to have worked for you did not see a hint of him when you looked back nor do you hear other footsteps beside yours.

You were in fact only a few meters away from the nearest exit when suddenly you felt someone grabbing you by the shoulder, pulling you with so much force to the side, before throwing you harshly against the cement wall. It was the maniac from earlier, still grinning like a Cheshire cat as if his lips had been permanently sewn to stretch that wide. With both hands on your collar, pressing hard against your neck, you can feel the air being squeezed out of your lungs as he was choking you, "I could've made it so painless but well - you decided to play around..."

You wanted to scream but with his hands pressed up on your throat, nothing came out. You thrashed wildly, hitting him wherever your hands could reach though nothing seemed to have worked. Gasping for air, you were so sure that you were going to die in a matter of seconds. Just then you saw another dark figure looming behind the maniac with his hand raised upwards, holdimg what seemed like a bat or a plank. Within seconds the bat or plank hit the maniac squarely on his back causing him to double down in pain. With his grip loosened, you fell harshly to the ground, the pain shooting everywhere but at least you were finally able to catch your breath. Though still light-headed from the lack of oxygen and still coughing and wheezing from being choked earlier, you spared no seconds to drag yourself away from the maniac.

You turned your attention to the other man, who was standing next to the maniac with the bat or plank still swinging in his hand as if he was deliberating on whether to deliver another blow to the maniac. But then instead, he turned towards you. While indeed he had saved you, your flight and fight response was still on overdrive and you backed away instinctively as he trudged up towards you.

"y/n, it's me."

You stopped retreating, recognizing the voice and the silhouette as he came closer.

"Sunghoon...?" you called out though still uncertain. Only when he lowered himself down to you level, his face catching the lighting from the other side, did you exhale a huge sigh of relief for indeed it was Sunghoon. Never had you ever been so relieved to see someone. "Sunghoon, how did-" you croaked but stopped as you noticed the maniac earlier had already gotten up and had started to sprint away. "the guy- the guy-" you stammered, voice hoarse.

Sunghoon cussed as he watched the man slowly disappear into the dark, "Just let him y/n. I can’t leave you alone here.”

“But—“ you stammered, as he helped you get up to your feet, “what if that man is behind all the disappearances? He might just move on to some other victim. We need to-”

“y/n,” he reassured, gently rubbing your shoulders as if comforting you, “Calm down okay? I hit him pretty hard on his back, I doubt he would continue tonight. I’ll also make sure to go straight to the police later alright? Come on.”

He draped your arm over the back of his neck while placing the other hand behind your back, trying to hold you steadily as you walked. While you tried to walk as normally as possible, the pain over your knee and hips grew with every step that you cannot help but wince.

"You're hurt," Sunghoon murmured, "Its' better if I carry you-"

“No,” you protested, “it’s okay, I can walk.”

“Your knee will bleed more with all the limping and hobbling,” he replied as a matter-of-factly. You looked down at your knee, only then realising that blood has streamed down your calves, staining your white socks red, “I’d piggyback you but you’d have to bend your knees and it would just hurt more so I’ll just carry you okay? Bear with me.” You suddenly feel his other hand behind your knees, the other wrapping itself over your back, before he pick you up in one effortless and swift swoop. It was embarrassing, you thought, but there was not much you can do.

Within a minute, you two finally got out of the dark alleyway as it opened up into a brightly-lit street, the corner where the 24-hour convenience store was. The harsh white fluourescent lights, which you have always hated, suddenly becoming a source of comfort and safety. He gently set you down on the bench just outside of the store, “I’ll go and buy you something to treat your wounds with alright? I’ll be quick, don’t worry. I can assure you, he won’t come back.”

You nodded weakly. Truth to be told, you didn’t want to be left alone. You were anxious that the man would just pop out and drag you again like he just did. Not that you said anything though. True to his words, Sunghoon appeared back not long after, running towards you with a plastic bag full of first aid kit items and some drinks, one of which he had taken out and opened up in advance for you, “Drink up first.”

You muttered a thanks, dawning it — not realising just how parched you were.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked as he watched you rummage to the plastic bag for the appropriate medication to apply.

“Had the misfortune to run into a crazed dude, that’s all,” you mumbled, taking out a bottle of alcohol disinfectant and some cotton swabs, then trying to open the seal of the former, “Thank you for earlier. Really thought I’d die.”

“Let me,” he offered, taking the bottle and swabs away from your hands before kneeling in front of you. You protested, telling him that you can do it yourself. He gave you a small smile, “your shaky hands indicate otherwise.”

You furrowed your brows, “no they’re not, lo-“ you grumbled bringing your hands up to show him. Unfortunately for you, Sunghoon was right, they were. Not to mention, you had scraped your palm pretty badly from the fall as well.

“As much as you try to put up an unfazed front, the body keeps score,” he muttered calmly as he gently apply the disinfectant on the cuts over your legs, “Don’t worry though. He won't reappear. Not when you’re with me out here.”

You winced as he moved on to apply the disinfectant on the big scrape over your knee, “Hold on yea? You took a really nasty fall with this one.”

As Sunghoon continued to patiently treat your wounds, you couldn't help but observe his every move and his every features — the only time you had ever actually properly looked at him. You realized then how large his hands were, how slender his fingers were and how meticulous and gentle every move and touch was as if you're glass and he was afraid to break you. Every now and then he would look up, meeting your gaze, giving you a quick reassuring smile that contrasts his usual smug grin.

Suddenly, you felt guilt creeping up. This was the guy whom you thought was an asshat. The guy that you, despite all that he had shown to prove otherwise, still had zero faith in. The guy that you refuse to give any time of the day except when necessary. Yet there he was, having saved you from death and as if that wasn't enough, was currently kneeling on the dirty pavement in his expensive get-up, just to tend to your cuts. It occured to you then that perhaps you should swallow your pride and accept the fact that you were the one who had made unfair judgements about Sunghoon. That your gut instincts were wrong. That he was indeed a good person, happen to be born with a golden spoon in his mouth.

Perhaps, you thought, you should also stop lying to yourself and admit that you have actually begun to not just not mind his presence around you, but actually enjoy it. That you were incredibly thankful and grateful that he was there right where and when you needed someone the most. Yet, steeped in pride and naturally unable to express your innermost emotions, all you could mutter was, “Your hands are freezing.”

He chuckled as he gazed up while holding your hand to apply a bandaid over the scrapes on your palm. With a gentle smile, one that is wide enough for you to notice that he had a dimple on his right cheek, he muttered, "well, yours aren't warm either."

For the first time ever, you did not find his smile to be annoying nor did you feel like smacking his hand away when it lingered too long on your skin.

Jay tiptoed across the wooden flooring that night, looking around to make sure no one caught him slipping in so late. After the number of missing persons cases, and of course after Sunghoon’s little stunts, Heeseung imposed some sort of hunting ban on them at least for a few weeks. Him sneaking around late would’ve earned him an earful from the elder considering how he is the most flamboyant and easy-to-tempt out of the bunch.

As he was about to take the stairs, he noticed the living room door, which was usually closed, ajar. The room was dark but through some momentary flashes of lightning outside, he noticed something suspicious on the floor in that room. He approached it slowly, noticing that they were empty blood bags which, as he followed, were leading up to Sunghoon, who was at the end of room, sitting on the ground with his upper body leaning against the couch. With his head thrown back against the seat cushion, Sunghoon looked almost lifeless had he not just opened his eyes to mere slits at the sound of Jay’s footsteps.

“DUDE! WHAT THE HELL!!!” Jay exclaimed, aggressively hitting the light switch in the room to turn it on, causing Sunghoon to groan over the sudden brightness and throw his arm over his eyes.

“You eat human blood for breakfast, what are you so startled about?” Sunghoon grumbled lethargically.

“I thought you got killed or something! This place looks like a crime scene! You look like a crime scene,” Jay complained, staring at him incredulously as he looked at all the emptied blood bags strewn beside Sunghoon’s body, “Were you starved or something?! I mean, look at the amount o— wait, did you take some of my supplies too?!”

Sunghoon scoffed, “I’ll repay you twice as much, don’t worry.”

“Forget about that,” Jay plopped himself on the couch, arms crossed, “I just hope that you have a good reason behind all of these uncivilised mess you’re creating.”

“Uncivilised?” Sunghoon chuckled drily, letting his arm fall to his side, eyes blankly staring on the ceiling, “Would have been even more uncivilised if I allow myself to lose it earlier.”

Jay rolled his eyes, “Hey, stop speaking in prose.”

Sunghoon sighed, “I almost lost it earlier. But I didn’t. And now, I’m paying the hefty price of suppressing it.” He swallowed thickly, the scent of your blood still so fresh in his mind. It was so enticing and intoxicating, he was starting to see red. Thank goodness, he had diligently been satiating himself daily with bagged blood. If not, he would have immediately lost it while tending to you. He planned on driving you back home but he knew he wouldn’t be able to withstand it any moment longer, especially not in such an enclosed space. So he sent his chauffeur to drive you home, telling you that he wanted to head to the police and quickly lodge the report before the maniac gets away far.

“Don’t tell me it’s that girl again?” Jay sighed — the silence of which just confirmed it.

“It’s weird though,” Sunghoon mumbled, “With all the blood I’ve drank tonight —“

“You still want hers?” Jay interjected, “Boy, I guess you’ve just found blood that is likely to be exactly your taste. You’re in trouble now — that hunger, if you don’t tend to, can fester in uglier ways. You got to-“

“Is it you again?” Heeseung suddenly barged into the room, his voice booming. Throwing a piece of shredded muddy black cloth on the ground, he glowered at Sunghoon, “the bloodless dead body in the river. Is it your doing?”

Sunghoon just sneered, knowing exactly who Heeseung was referring to, “that guy was the one causing ruckus as of late in this town, aren’t you glad that I caught him and put an end to him?”

“It could have been handled better by the elders. Who are you to take matters into your own hands instead?” Heeseung fumed, “Not that you did a good job anyway since you’ve drained him completely out of blood.”

“I know you didn’t kill him out of some noble reason Park Sunghoon,” Heeseung continued, lowering himself to Sunghoon’s level and grabbing a fistful of his collar, “You tempted him didn’t you? I heard it from Mr. Han. You told him about some girl being within the vicinity? All just so you can play hero for her so that you can tilt whatever game you’re playing with her in your favour, huh?”

“To be precise, I did not tell him that that girl was a meal,” Sunghoon emphasized, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “I told him to scare her, that I’d offer him blood bags in exchange. He was more than eager to take it up for he was a starving mess. But well, apparently he was that parched, he went rogue and attacked her for real. If you consider that too, wouldn’t you say that I have saved another fellow human then?”

Heeseung scoffed, pulling the younger by the collar towards him as he glared menacingly at him, something unusual for the doe-eyed eldest to sport, “I told you stop playing games, didn’t I?”

“Guys, please,” Jay interjected, noticing the tension in the air, afraid of what were to come next, “We’re like fossil-aged, way past the time to be brawling. Heeseung, let him go -- for tonight at least. He's out of it right now.”

Heeseung pushed Jay’s hand away, harshly letting go of Sunghoon’s collar, “One more reckless move and I’ll take that as a your death wish Sunghoon.”

“I know I should be happy that you’re getting close to the guy of every girls’ and boys’ dreams,” Sunoo sighed, gesticulating wildly as you two walked towards the library the next evening, “but I have a bad feeling about Sunghoon.”

“He isn’t actually that bad,” you muttered quietly causing Sunoo to stare at you in aghast, “Okay okay, what happened to y/n? Did she get swapped with a double?”

“Stop overreacting,” you rolled your eyes, “It’s just because the deadline is approaching that we are spending more time together. Pretty sure we’ll be back to strangers after this.”

“I sure hope so,” Sunoo emphasized snidely, eyes narrowing into mere slits as if he was judging if there was any grain of truth to what you had just said. You shook your head dismissively as you two reached the entrance of the library door, “Alright, here’s my stop. Have a good practice tonight Sunoo.”

“Will do,” he pressed his lips together, forming a tight-lipped smile, before suddenly holding on to your arm stopping you halfway from passing through the library main entrance, “Wait… Just… Be careful okay? I know being alone is dangerous but… I feel like he’s not exactly the best company either.”

There was genuine concern in Sunoo’s eyes and voice which confused you. He was not always this protective nor paranoid especially when he has always been the one egging you to go on dates and talk to guys. You were going to say something when you felt someone standing behind you. “Oh sorry-“ you apologised as you turned your head, thinking you might have blocked someone’s way. But it was none other than Sunghoon who had just wedged himself between your back and the door as if holding it for you. He looked down at you, beaming, his dimples peeking through, “Hi — I was getting worried since you haven’t showed up.”

Noticing the unnecessary proximity, Sunoo protectively pulled you slightly to the side as he scoffed, “Don’t be dramatic. It’s only what? 10 minutes past 8 PM?”

You gave Sunoo a quick glance, signalling him to stop acting so sassy for no reason but he just ignored you, choosing to shoot daggers at Sunghoon instead.

“Well, she is never late so my worries are justified,” Sunghoon calmly remarked, “even more so when she’s just had a run-in with a maniac yesterday.”

Sunoo chewed the inside of his lower lip in guilt. While he did feel guilty about it all day, offering to treat you to the most expensive restaurants in town, and even planning to march to the police station to demand quick action, you were quick to calm him down by reassuring him that you were completely alright. That the maniac had not hurt you. That all the cuts and bruises are merely from, you lied, having clumsily fell to the ground while running away and not because you got thrown to the ground. But now, the guilt was creeping back up. Especially with the way Sunghoon said it. Had this been any normal day, Sunoo would have definitely retorted a smart comeback at Sunghoon but the guilt lodged his throat up so he just stared away, turning to you instead, plastering a fake smile, “Well, I’ll go now then. Don’t go home too late and call me when you get home later yeah?”

You nodded, smiling back as a reassurance, “same to you Sunoo. Text me once you’re home.”

Sunghoon’s smile faltered seeing the genuine care you two shared. He hated seeing the way you softly beam at Sunoo, the way you gently speak to him, the way you two touch one another so casually.

He wanted to be in Sunoo’s place.

You two ended up staying until midnight at the library, too engrossed in building perfect arguments for your respective parts — one another sometimes taking on a contrarian role to find each others’ loopholes. This goes on since that day, eventually becoming the norm as of late: you and him alone in the library together — three odd combinations that no one would believe unless they see it with their own eyes. You two no longer sat apart, you two were always next to each other in the library. All the heated debates from past weeks had now evolved into productive ones. All the glares and sneers turned to genuine awe, nods and even laughter. All the snide remarks turned to playful banters. It was weird, you thought, how this had all turn out and how quickly it progressed between you two. 

“You were right, there were inconsistencies, I’ll fix it then,” he nodded, scribbling some points on his printed draft. 

“Sorry,” you muttered sheepishly, worried if you’d been too overcritical.

“Don’t be. Better to be pointed out by one another than by the professor don’t you think?”

You find your lips curling into a smile almost automatically, impressed at just how cool-headed he was. Usually you would have to be extra careful of being critical of your partners’ work lest they become offended nor defensive but Park Sunghoon was different. He does his job and not only that, if he indeed saw how valid your criticisms were, he willingly accept it and gladly revise it. Feeling your smile stretching wider than you would have liked, you turned away, your eyes landing on the big clock near the door, “Oh shit, it’s 4 AM.”

Sunghoon looked up nonchalantly, shrugging, “Well, the guard isn’t around to bark at us, might as well overstay.”

“Well, if he comes out, he’ll definitely do more than bark at us. The library should’ve been closed 2 hours ago!” You panicked, packing your things up. Sunghoon extended his hand over to yours, stopping you, “trust me. He won’t be around. For a little while at least.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Did you make a deal with him or something? Why are you always so confident about this?”

He grinned coyly, “Not exactly a deal but I am definitely sure that he won’t be coming around.”

You shook your head dismissively, slipping your hand off his grasp, “Whatever it is. It is late and I should head back soon.”

The smile on Sunghoon faltered, visibly disappointed but he followed suit anyway, packing up. As you two walked towards the exit, the guard was indeed nowhere to be found but it was something to be grateful for anyway especially when you have overstayed your time so you didn’t think much about it. 

“What are you doing?” you asked as you two were outside, noticing that Sunghoon was still walking beside you towards the direction of the road leading up to your area, instead of the other way where his car was usually parked. 

He stared back nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pockets, “walking you home duh.”

“Um don’t,” you stopped, “our places are like the opposite way.”

“As if I’d let you walk home alone after what happened the other day,” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“So you’d rather walk me back?” you raised your brows quizzically, “it’s going to be a 45 minute return journey for you to go back here.”

“I can take the taxi afterwards, or we can take the taxi now,” he shrugged, “Well, it will all be easy if you just swallow your pride and let me drive you back home but you were dead set on not wanting to ride in my car.”

You scoffed. Sometimes, talking with Sunghoon really felt like engaging in mind games — like he knows just how to frame the issue to make you feel bad or to make you pick the choice that would make him win. “Fine, I’ll save you the troubles then,” you heaved a huge exasperated sigh, “Just this once though.”

Sunghoon smirked, nodding and mouthing a ‘sure’, before he led you towards his G-Wagon.

“I can’t believe I have become another statistic,” you muttered to yourself as you entered his car.

“Of?”

“Of the girls that rides in Sunghoon’s car,” you grumbled, slightly struggling with the seatbelt when suddenly you saw his hand reaching over. You turned, about to protest, but was quickly shut up by how close his face was to yours with his body just mere inches away from yours. He pulled the seatbelt over you and as the seatbelt clicked, his eyes flitted away from the seatbelt to your eyes, darting momentarily to your lips before reverting, causing your heart to skip a beat, “You’re the first actually.”

Your eyebrows twitched in disbelief as he backed away, grinning smugly as if he knew the effect the move had on you. You cleared your throat, trying to sound unfazed, “with the amount of girls you’ve dated — you should’ve chose a better lie to tell me.”

“Believe it or not,” he shrugged while firing off the engine, “people usually want me more than I want them so I'd get driven around instead. That, or I'd get my chaffeur to drive me around using my family's usual chaffeured car."

“Still not having any faith in that,” you maintained, “but if it is true, then I don’t know if I should feel bad for ruining that clean streak or feel triumphant that I am the one ruining the clean streak.”

“It’s up to you,” he clicked his tongue, pressing on the gas pedal, “Let’s just say, if I wanted to. I could’ve called my chauffeur to drive us in the usual car or called up a private taxi.”

You stared at him, wondering what was he getting at. He gave you a quick glance as if trying to emphasise his point, “But I didn’t.”

It felt like he was trying to smooth talk his way to your head but you thought skeptically that he had no reason to so you decided to just ignore it, looking out of the window instead. While a few days have passed since that night, seeing the streets and alleyway where it happened always brought the terrifying memories back. You gulped, staring away immediately, squeezing your hands to calm yourself down. That apparently did not go unnoticed by Sunghoon, “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered immediately, trying to think of other things than what happened the other night.

“I guess you were still affected by it?” he asked. Suddenly you feel his free hand enveloping yours while the other stayed on the steering wheel. His hand was cold but somehow it still gave some form of comfort, “regardless of how you try to mask it, your body keeps score y/n.”

You stared down at the way his big hand enveloped both of yours, slightly irked by the fact that you let him and also slightly irked by how comforting and calming it felt. Despite that though, unlike the usual times when you would have definitely moved your hand away, this time you didn’t. Even when his hand was freezing cold to the point that it was quickly seeping any little warmth your hands had.

You guys finally reached your place in about 10 minutes time. You muttered a quick thanks, suddenly remembering that you had wanted to give him something as a token of gratitude after incident the other night. You deliberated for a long time on what to get this cocky, rich kid, thinking that whatever he really wanted you probably couldn’t afford. Noticing how he always drank Americano in campus, you decided to get him a one-month worth of coffee voucher from the campus cafe.

“Seriously?” he looked up from the voucher to you, eyebrows raising quizzically.

“What? Not enough?” You answered blankly, slightly worried. 

“Not that,” he sighed, “I just… I don’t need material things like that.”

“Thought this would be the best functional gift that won’t cost me my liver,” you said jokingly, “I mean, you drink Americano all the time, right?”

Yeah, because it’s so dark-coloured it hides any traces of blood I usually sneakily put in, he thought to himself when you asked again, “Well, anyway, I still need to thank you though so tell me what you want Sunghoon? Anything within moral bounds and within my tax bracket, that is.”

With an eyebrow twitch and a playful smirk that, by now, you are able to interpret as him having a rather cheeky idea in mind, he said, “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while. How’s that as a token of appreciation instead?”

You paused, blinking confusedly. He raised his brows, “you live alone, you should know how to cook right? Unless of course, you’ve been living off meal replacements or deliveries.”

“No of course I know how to cook. I’m not rich to be able to conveniently live off deliveries” you replied dismissively, “but, really? Home-cooked meals? That’s uh-“

“You said anything I want,” he cut you off, “that’s all I want. Simple isn’t it? I didn’t ask for no Michelin-starred dinners nor a Balenciaga.”

You sighed, relenting, “Okay okay fine. I can’t promise that it will taste as nice as restaurants though. When do you want it? I’ll send it over to your place or something.”

“You can just cook it for me live,” he deadpanned.

“So you want to see me cook it too? You’re so demanding,” you grumbled.

“Better to eat it fresh, no? Plus we get to bond more,” he quipped, “Well, if you’re uncomfortable of having me in your place then you can do it at mine?”

“Dude, both are just as questionable,” you objected.

“I can hire a kitchen space then if you like,” he offered.

“Damn, golden spoon kids are really of a different breed altogether,” you scoffed, “fine, just this once. I guess, I can let you come over.”

You grimaced just after saying that. You’re a pretty closed-off person, preferring to set boundaries on things including your personal space like your home so having to let someone breach that, especially that someone being Sunghoon was such a blow to you. But he did save you, so you definitely did owe him big time. 

“If you’re not too tired, can I ask for it now?” He smirked. 

You raised your brows, looking at your watch, “It’s almost 5 AM now.”

“Yeah, we both haven’t had dinner,” he nodded as a matter-of-factly, “also I heard your stomach rumbled a few times earlier.”

“Oh shut up,” you chuckled, ruminating for a bit, “I guess. I mean, it’s Sunday now — so I can just sleep in in the morning.”

Hence, that was why Sunghoon was at your place at the crack of dawn, looking around your humble accommodation with stars in his eyes. “I don’t know whether to be offended or not by just how much in awe you are of my place considering how you live in a mansion,” you shook your head.

“Your place is so warm and cosy — and I mean it in the best way,” he replied, looking at the books that filled your shelves up to the brim, “my place is just cold and empty. Even when it’s designed and filled with everything anyone can possibly want.”

“First world problems huh?��� You remarked sarcastically at him as you opened your fridge which you had thankfully stocked up yesterday. 

“You’re very well-read aren’t you,” he asked, his fingers tracing the spine of the books he knew well for he, too, loved reading during his spare time. In fact, he was already born when some of the classics which you have in your shelf were first printed. 

You shrugged, “just felt stupid most of the time so I have to constantly read up on things. I enjoy them too so it’s a win-win.”

He scoffed incredulously, “you’re one of the smartest person I’ve personally known, you shouldn’t put yourself down like that.”

Noticing you staring at him, he just smiled, wiggling his brows, “what?”

“You really need to drop all the sweet talks,” you shook your head disapprovingly as you switched on the stove, “it may work on others but not on me okay? Not when it comes from you.”

“They’re not sweet talks,” he gave you a quick playful glance before sitting on the stool near you, observing your every move, “so nothing to drop right?”

You exhaled sharply, deciding to ignore him again. He smiled to himself, enjoying the sight. Everything just felt so warm and cozy — literally and symbolically. It was a feeling he hadn't felt for a long time since every thing always felt too distant, too cold and too empty for him — be it places or people.

Obviously, being a vampire, food offers no satisfaction nor satiation at all so he never liked doing it. But he thought it was the perfect way for him to linger around you a little longer than usual, a perfect way to get a little deeper into your life which to him was still shrouded in so much mystery. Usually he would have to spike his food with blood just to get the eating part done and over with but with you, over stories, jokes, laughter and banters, he gobbled it up without, not even realizing that so much time had passed and that the sun have already risen.

“Let me,” Sunghoon muttered when you gathered the plates by the sink, about to wash it once you guys finished your meal. You shook your head, “no don’t worry about it.”

You then felt his body against your back, his hand reaching over to grab the dishes you were rinsing in your hand, his head leaning low towards your level. Suddenly becoming hyperaware of the way his chest was pressing against your back, you were forced to acquiesce, suddenly feeling shy, “Sure, just don’t break them.”

You scooted to the side, taking a nearby clean cloth to dry out the plates that he had just washed, “Wow, I’m surprised you know how to do the dishes.”

He chuckled drily, pressing on the dish soap dispenser, “it’s not rocket science. I know how to do the laundry too, would you like to see that?”

"No thanks," you shook your head dismissively, "Pretty sure other girls would die for a shot of that though."

“You should stop trying so hard you know,” he mumbled suddenly.

“Huh? At what? The project? We’re this close to-”

“No,” he deadpanned, “At keeping me at arm’s length.”

You gave him a momentary glance which he took as an affirmation so he continued as he dried his hand on a napkin nearby, “Can’t you see that maybe our fates are meant to intertwine? If it’s already fated, you can’t outrun it no matter how fast you run. So might as well just go with it.”

You didn’t reply to that immediately as what he had just said was indeed something that floated in your mind once or twice over the past few weeks. No matter how hard you try, especially given how you have a very risk-averse and rather preventative attitude, he was just always around that your efforts just end up futile. Sometimes you wonder if perhaps you are indeed destined to get closer to him, to be friends instead of just course mates? But then again, regardless of that and your gradually improving relations and perception of Sunghoon, you can never fully shake the nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach. That everything is just too good to be true that it almost feels like a set up. Like you’re a rat in a maze. 

“I’m not keeping you at arm’s length,” you finally said, "I just take a long time to warm up."

"Ages," he emphasized, "Thank God, I have eternity."

You scoffed thinking that he was being sarcastic when he had actually meant it literally that he had eternity.

“So we’re friends?” he asked, leaning against the counter next to you. You shrugged, “I guess?”

“Then would you let me crash on your couch?”

“You are really shameless aren’t you?” You scoffed. He chuckled as he walked towards the living room and plopped himself on the couch, “just until the sun’s up high. I’m on a food coma right now and I’m a bit sleep-deprived lately, I don't think I can drive safely.”

You opened your mouth to protest, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the thought but considering the risk of him driving while having no sleep and having just eaten made you think twice. You reluctantly agreed, “I guess. No funny business okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, before the usual smirk starts enveloping his lips, “For safety measures just lock your door alright?”

“You’re relentless,” you scoffed, throwing the cloth at him as you switched off the lights in the kitchen. “I’ll head to my room alright. Just lock the main door when you leave later. No need to inform me or anything.”

Already laying down on your tan couch, he flashed his thumbs up. He watched you walk past the hallway into your bedroom thinking just how far he had gotten just from saving you, from making you feel indebted. Should have done it way back, he thought to himself, would have saved some time.

Obviously, being a vampire, he would never get food-coma nor would he feel sleep-deprived so indeed they were all just excuses. Excuses to stay around longer. Unknowingly a smirk was enveloping his lips as he placed both hands under his head in a leisure manner. If only you knew just how much danger you were putting yourself in right now, he thought. The smirk faltered the longer he stared at your closed door, boring holes into it as he felt something within him brewing. Suddenly, the memory of just how intoxicatingly tempting your blood had smelled like resurfaced, causing his mouth to water. Such a perfect timing, he thought, you and him alone, in the dead of the dawn. No one to hear you scream, no one to help you. As such thoughts brew into the usual toxic mix, he can feel his throat drying up, suddenly becoming so parched, while his gums tingled — signs that the his fangs were unfolding into its full length. 

Shit, he thought, he was going to lose it soon. He immediately got off the couch, summoning every bit of strength and rationality he had to fight his carnal desires to not just break your door and attack you. In a frantic hurry, he left your apartment, got on his car and fired on the gas pedal as if the cops were after him. Jay must have been right, he thought, there must have been something about your blood that really piqued his senses since he has not even tasted it and yet this was how far and low it had driven him. He scoffed at himself, clutching the steering wheel.

That aside though, what is still mysterious to him was why he even stopped himself. Everything was falling into place so impeccably like he always wanted: he got your guards down and he got you to trust him — it would have been a perfect opportunity since it was at your own place too. Like inviting a lion to your own house, it would have been the ultimate “I told you so” to her. And yet, instead of doing just that, he ended up fighting every last bit of rationality and conscience back there, to not let his predatory self took over and lay a hand on you. 

Perhaps, he wanted to taunt you a little longer, he thought.

Or perhaps, he had grown to enjoy your company.

“Oh my God, that clicks!” Sunoo exclaimed, gasping as he shuffled through the wad of papers on his table, “look, it’s the same like what you saw! Tall guy, clad in all black, gangly, mid-20s, eerily wide smile, a disturbingly gritty voice, bony hands, and glowy-ish eyes!”

“I guess,” you shrugged, taking another bite of the matcha brownie that Sunoo just got you from the cafe beside the Press Society Club Room. You had some time to spare after your last seminar class so you decided to give your bestfriend a visit. That being said, instead of some meaningful catching-up, he was busy badgering you with questions about that night when you were attacked — bribing you with your favourite matcha brownie and coffee, “I mean — since you’ve gotten all these info from these witnesses, don’t you think the police are already on his tail investigating this or something?”

Ni-Ki, the other guy in the room who was busy toggling with his DSLR, scoffed, “If the police are even a fraction as useful, you wouldn’t end up running into that man at all because some of these witnesses have reported their encounters like as far as 2 months ago.”

Ni-Ki is Sunoo’s close friend, a polar opposite that he got quickly close to given their similar hobbies which made them members of the same clubs: Dance Society and Press Society. Ni-Ki is skinny and tall, with pouty lips, sharp eyes, and deep voice. He wasn’t the easiest to approach given how he has a rather intimidating resting face but whenever you bump into him, he had always been very cordial: greeting you first and engaging in conversations with you. You clicked your tongue, “shit, you’re right. So what are you guys planning then? I mean all these reports, the articles, the pictures — that’s not just prep for some 1/4 page feature.”

“Bingo,” Sunoo snapped his fingers, beaming proudly as he tapped onto the mountain of papers in front of him, “It will be the next hottest special article from us. After that scum tried to kill my best friend, best believe I won’t stay put.”

You gave Sunoo a small smile, one that shows how appreciative you were but also one that was slightly concerned by how ambitious it all was, “I mean not to doubt you two since you guys have co-authored some of the best articles ever written by the School’s paper but what could the school paper cover that hasn’t been in the official press? And like what could a school paper do with its limited exposure anyway? Wont you guys just be, I dont know, fear mongering?”

“I knew it, if anyone would raise these kind of questions, it would be my smart bestie,” Sunoo smirked, as if already expecting the question and already having the answers prepped, “First things first, the press have done a shoddy job at reporting these cases — like all the alarming facts were just glazed over, no connections were made, no alarms were sound — nothing. It was weird, it’s like they didn’t care or something.”

“If you ask me, I would think that both the police and the press were eating from the same hand this time,” Ni-Ki chimed in, eyebrows wiggling as he mouthed the word “corruption”.

“Anyways,” Sunoo continued, “as I was saying, basically we had to do a lot of digging because apparently not a lot of news covered the important details such as the autopsy report, God knows why. We found that some of these bodies are reported to be almost bloodless, with some odd cuts over their necks but even that wouldn’t have been enough to leak that much blood out of the human body. Even bizarrely, there are no traces of their blood around the area which then brings the assumption that this was a rather well-planned murder, not a spur of the moment one, because it is likely that the body has been taken elsewhere, drained of blood then dumped elsewhere. In other words, with more than one killings being like this, we are definitely not dealing with just any normal murderer."

“Sounds good,” you nodded in agreement, pondering over the papers sprawled over the counter, “You guys will also be putting a question mark on a story, it will definitely get people talking-“

Your phone suddenly rang. You stared at it quizzically, trying to figure out who the unregistered number belonged was but decided to just take it, “Hello? Who is this?”

“Not sure if I should feel offended that you don’t recognise my voice or that you’re not here right now when we’re supposed to meet?”

It was indeed a very familiar voice. You pored your head over who that voice could belonged to and who could you be meeting with at almost 7.30PM. “Oh shoot, right Sunghoon sorry. I’ll be right there in 5-10 minutes.”

It would actually be the last night that you and Sunghoon would be working together since the deadline of your work will be by 9AM tomorrow. All hunched up in the usual desk by the large windows of the East Wing in the library, you felt a hint of pensiveness at the thought. Working with Sunghoon, have after all been such a breeze: he was smart, accommodating and cooperative — everything you could ever want from a project partner. Not to mention, as much as you didn’t want to admit, what made your time with him a little bit enjoyable and memorable than you expected was the fact that he turned out to be a decent person. Full of wit, charm, playfulness and worldliness — which you never expect someone with a pretty and wealth privilege like his would ever possess.

Deeply concentrating in finalising your joint-work, you didn’t even realise that midnight had rolled in until your concentrations were abruptly halted by the guard roughly knocking both of your tables. You jumped in your seat, realizing that this had been the first time you had seen him in quite a while, “Sorry guys, didn’t you see the notice outside? We’re closing at 12.30 AM tonight due to some maintenance work. Go pack up now.”

You heaved an exasperated sigh as you reluctantly closed your laptop shut, “we were so close though.”

“We can continue some place else,” Sunghoon answered calmly as he packed his things up.

“You’re right,” you agreed as you slung your backpack over your shoulder and walked next to him down the aisle, “Do you know any cafe that closes late nearby?”

“Bars do,” he grinned as he propped the door open, beckoning you to pass, “I wasn’t thinking of cafes by the way.” 

Suddenly he grabbed the backpack that was loosely slung over your shoulder, slinging it over his instead, “I was thinking of my place.”

You paused, blinking quizzically at him, trying to process if you had heard wrongly.

“You didn’t hear wrongly,” he uttered as if he could read your mind, “Why? Are you scared?”

“I’d rather go to the bar.”

He snickered, “yeah right. Come on, my place is only 5 minutes away and our deadline is 9 AM tomorrow.”

“What about your housemates?”

“Not to brag,” he smirked, “but I was talking about my other house, my own personal apartment where I usually stay at if I need some time alone.”

You pondered as you trailed slowly behind him. Indeed, he has by then proven numerous times just how much of a decent person he was which meant that being alone with him in his place should not be an issue. That being said, you still have this nagging feeling deep seated within you that still seemed to be warning you to not let your guard down — to stay away. But then you thought about how you guys were like only a quarter away from being done with the project and that you had spent countless times alone with him during which nothing happened so you just chalked up such feeling into irrational paranoia, yet again. 

“I guess,” you acquiesced, “Just until we finish our work.”

Sunghoon’s apartment differed vastly from the bachelor pad he shared with his little clique. Located at the top floor of the most expensive apartment complex in the area, his penthouse which was designed in an industrial architecture style, was spacious and had a dark colour scheme throughout — almost monochromatic, giving off a rather clean and sleek look but a bit too dark and cold even for someone like you who had always gravitated towards darker colours schemes. 

“Okay, I mean I know you’re rich but this is just on a whole new level. Now I’m even more offended at the way you stare around my place in awe last time. You must have felt like a tourist — exploring how the average Joe lives on a student budget,” you blabbered, swivelling around slowly to take a good look at his lofty penthouse. Its curtains automatically drew open as you approach the floor-to-ceiling windows of the open space, revealing the glorious view of the city and a nearby river at night, “If I were you, I’d rather live here than that rowdy bachelor pad of yours with your little clique.”

“I overthink a lot so I need their rowdiness in my life to drown it.”

You looked at him beside you, detecting a slight sad undertone, “You have everything anyone could possibly want and you’re still overthinking things?”

“Oh trust me, not everything,” he turned towards you with a small smile, “would trade all I have for that one thing to be honest.”

“Is this the same with your weakness?” You raised your eyebrows, “the one you told me would cost my life?”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a sly grin, “they’re kind of related. So? What do you say? Want to take up the offer?”

“No thanks,” you shook your head dismissively. Setting your backpack on the counter nearby, taking out your laptop and notes, “let’s get working, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Oh please, you can overstay all you want dear,” Sunghoon answered in a sing-song voice. You shot him a glare over the last word to which he just winked at. Sunghoon initially recommended that you two work in the study room or lounge room, where it would be more comfortable but you insisted to stay in the living room — actually feeling more comfortable in the open space area, closer to the main door, rather than anywhere deeper and isolated. You two immediately got immersed in your work, not realising that time flew by across all the debates, discussions, amendments, revisions and banters. Only after having amended and revised the paper almost a billionth time now did you guys finally run out of things to amend.

“Or maybe our brain is just too fried for this already,” you heaved a heavy sigh as your scrolled down the 15-page report, “Shall we?”

“After you, you’re the main Architect,” he gesticulated for you to press the submit button. You dismissed him, grabbing his hand, “Hey, I do love to play Sherlock but for this project, there ain’t no Watson. We are both  the main architect of it. We are both Sherlocks.” You assured, beaming as you placed his hand on the mouse and then yours on his, guiding the cursor to the ‘submit’ button through his hand and clicking it after you received his final nod.

“Okay…. Now I can just hibernate,” you heaved a huge sigh of relief as you leaned back against the couch with your head thrown back, eyes closed. He stared at you all slumped on the couch, finding himself smiling as if endeared. He plopped himself next to you, his body facing you while his head rest on his palm with his elbows propped against the head rest. Though his eyes immediately fixated itself on your exposed neck, it was also increasingly distracted by your face. At your lips to be precise, which were parted and looked plush, looking almost inviting. He swallowed thickly, feeling some sort of gravitational pull all of a sudden.

“Stop staring, I can feel you burning holes,” you grumbled lethargically. 

“You were, too,” he replied. You can hear his smirk from the tone of his voice. You opened your eyes, slightly startled as it immediately met his gaze. He was, as usual, unfazed, “At Jay’s party. You were gawking remember?”

“Okay first things first,” you straightened up and then turned to him, “I was not gawking nor snooping around. You were the one making out in a rather public space. You can’t blame me if I walk into you. I mean if you’re so shy about it, you should’ve made out in one of the rooms.”

“Did you like what you see?” He grinned slyly, “because you were staring for quite a long time.”

“I was not,” you retorted, “okay maybe I did stare for like just a second too long. But that wasn’t because of you guys making out — I was just thinking — “

“That Sunghoon bones the Cheer captain for grades?” he interjected so casually. 

“Exactly. You took the words straight out of my mouth,” you said dryly, “Are you a mind reader or something? How is it that you can always tell what I am going to say.”

He shrugged with a smug grin on his face, “I just have a long experience with a lot of people. That and an unhealthy liking for Psychology.”

“Ah, that explains your penchant for mind games.”

“Well, it takes two to tango,” he said, biting the smile that was blooming on his face, “you’re good at it too.”

You were going to reply him with something but suddenly you became hyperaware of the way he was staring into your eyes. While getting stared at by Sunghoon was nothing new to you, the way he just kept gazing into your eyes as if trying to probe the depth of your mind was starting to make you feel self-conscious. There was almost this dopey, dreamy and dazed look to it which Sunoo had always told you is a warning sign to look out for. It’s kind of the look of awe and if you let it linger for a second longer, that gaze would probably change into something else — one which just screams that they want to get in your pants, Sunoo explained once, earning him a loud smack on the back by yours truly. You gulped, eyes blinking nervously as you start to feel something shifting in the atmosphere. While you were sure that seducing you would be the last thing in that campus heartthrob’s mind, it did made you feel nervous so, while feigning nonchalance you rose up and start to pack, “well, since we’re done, I should get going.”

“You can just stay,” he prompted ever so casually — which should be unsurprising as he has probably said that to other girls like millions of times (or vice versa). Standing by the counter where your backpack was, you begun shoving your books and stationaries inside, mumbling “Don’t be silly. The sun will be up in about an hour and a half.”

“Exactly,” he emphasized. You feel him coming up behind you, his body just mere inches away from your back, making you slightly nervous, “stay until sunrise then. There are no buses at this hour and taxis would just rip you off.”

“In a place so luxurious like this, I’d sleep like a baby and end up missing my 2PM class later so it’s a hard pass,” you rambled, saying absolutely anything out of nervousness. You slung your backpack over your shoulders and turned around, ready to leave but he didn’t budge and when you were angling to walk past him, he extended his arm, resting his hand against the counter behind you, blocking you, “why the haste y/n? Anything wrong?”

You would have stuffed up another lie but you find yourself instantly silenced when you looked up at him, meeting his gaze that had by then changed into something more unnerving. Long gone were those soft gazes. Perhaps it was the fact that he towered over you and was looking down at you but his hooded gaze was so intense and almost domineering, slightly sultry too, that it felt almost invasive and unsettling.

Sunghoon however felt the opposite, if his expressions and body language hadn’t given that away already. While staring at you was nothing out of ordinary for him to do, perhaps the way your relationship had progressed made the feat all the more addictive — as if your eyes were hypnotic or something. As if it was an ocean and all he wanted was to swim in it. He didn’t even notice that a thunder had just struck outside for all he see was you.

“It’s the crack of dawn Sunghoon,” you tried to diffuse the situation, feeling the tension in the air getting heavier, “I don’t have the bandwidth for your Mind Games.”

“We can always cut the chase,” he drawled, gradually lowering his face down, inching closer to yours. You noticed his stare flitting from your eyes to your lips, then back again with his gaze multiplying in intensity each time. You suddenly feel his other free hand come up to your shoulders, grasping the strap of your bag.

“What are yo-“ you fumbled, about to shove his hand off but his other hand was quick enough to grab your hand away as the other pulled your bag strap down your arm, letting it drop to the floor. He then took a few steps closer towards you, forcing you to retreat back. “Sunghoon, stop it-“ you cautioned. There was no mistaking his intent now as he placed his hand on the counter behind you, resting on either side of your waist, completely trapping you.

“Your guard dog is always this close to you, why are you suddenly shy when it comes to me?” He egged.

It would be a lie to say you weren’t unnerved but you weren’t one to just easily show any sign of fear nor vulnerability so you curtly replied, "I thought you said you’re good in Psychology but you seem to not know the difference between shyness and disgust.” you replied curtly as your mind went on overdrive, piecing puzzles of your past, specifically all the moments with him that seemed too inorganic to be coincidence and too good to be true. From Jungwon getting hospitalised suddenly; him becoming your new project partner; the security guard being missing most of the time; the maniac; him saving you; and now, it all culminated, to this. You swallowed thickly, still not wanting to believe that he could be this devious and manipulative — that it’s all just you and your usual unreasonable cynicism.   

Sunghoon scoffed, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as his lips slowly curl into a wry grin before it all faltered. With a twitch of an eyebrow, he inched his face closer to your level, cautioning you in a low voice, “you should be careful with your mouth — you think you can win a game with the person who created the playing field in the first place?”

With that, it all then fell into place. You weren’t too cynical nor paranoid. Your gut feelings had indeed been right all along — as if it was warning you of the malice he is capable of, of the malice he will do to you. But it was too late for you have willingly walked into the tiger’s dent. “you call that a game? It was just child’s play,” you spat, “All of your orchestrations, all the effort — they’re not working. Because if they did, I’d buckle right now for you — like all the other girls. But that isn’t the case is it? All I feel right now is an ever-greater contempt and disgust for you, in case you’re socially inept to have not picked that up from my facial expressions and body language.”

You feel a sense of triumph when you see his smug grin faltered within seconds, eyebrows twitching as if your words had seared exactly where his pride was. But such sense of triumph was short-lived. You can see now that that apparently was not the wisest move for his eyes darkened in a mixture of vehemence and lust — a concoction of thoughts and feelings rarely felt in tandem for him. He hated your guts but the intensity of the vehemence was somehow fuelling his existing attraction towards you — it was like a vicious self-reinforcing spiral. 

Now, Sunghoon wasn’t one to make rash moves. He was always so cautious. Every moves are often well-calculated and schemed. But at that time, it didn’t matter anymore. All he saw was red and all he wanted right now was to shut you up — in a way you loathe the most, of course. Wrapping his hand behind your neck, he crashed his lips onto yours, the warmth of which was gradually enveloping all his senses, pushing it into new highs, making him hungry for more. You froze, unable to immediately register the sudden unexpected move he had pulled. Only when his other hand slipped itself on the small of your back to pull you even closer, leaving minimal to no spaces in between, did you finally snap out of it and react. While you tried to push him off with as much strength as you could muster, he did not budge at all. He was after all bigger than you and stronger so any push or punch you threw were futile against him.

If anything, it seemed to embolden him even more with his kiss growing more intense and fierce. All the frustrations, contempt and attraction that was building up to this moment, was fuelling his hunger and desire even more that it was almost carnal as he pushed his body up against you, pressing you uncomfortably against the countertop. With flight and fight response now on overdrive, you balled your hands into fist, hitting him wherever your hand could land which forced him to loosen his restrains on you as he tried to take your hands away. This gave you the opportunity to peel yourself away from his grasp especially since he was getting too delirious.

“you fucking prick.” you spat, managing to free yourself and immediately rushing to the other side, all breathless. You harshly wiped your throbbing lips with the back of your hand, feeling disgusted and slightly dazed.

Sunghoon smirked at the sight. You looked as ruined as he wished you to be: lipstick smudged, hair slightly dishevelled, and your shirt was sliding off one shoulder as the top button came undone in your struggle earlier. “You see, I’m not a patient person,” he took a step towards you, “but I’m glad I’ve dragged this whole thing out. The look of betrayal and disgust on your face — it’s so…. gratifying to see.” He chuckled menacingly, suddenly reminded of the look of disgust that you flashed at him at the night of the party.

Your brows knit in alarm and disgust. Sensing another danger coming as you see the hunger in his eyes emblazoning, you made a dash towards the main door. 

“I’m not done with you!” you hear him scream across the hall as you grasp the large handle of the door, feeling hopeful that you could make it as the sound of his voice indicated that he was still in the living room but to your horror, just within a few seconds of opening the door, it shut back close with such a force. You didn’t know how he had got to the door so fast but you can feel him behind you, his large hand resting just above the handle, preventing you from reopening it. You feel your breath hitch as you feel his breath on your ear, “I said I’m not done with you."

“Let. Go. You. Fucking. Scum.” you seethed. You were going to elbow him right in the ribs, which could’ve bought you time to escape, but unfortunately this was Sunghoon you were dealing with. Not only did he manage to block your blow but as he grasped your arm, he harshly spun you around, slamming your back hard against the wooden door — his large hands pinning yours against it. 

“Playtime’s over dear,” he drawled menacingly, his gaze now steely and cold — sending shivers down your spine. He thought he smelled something and he was right: your blood. He scoffed as his eyes zeroed into your lips where blood had formed on the crack at the centre of your lower lip. What a fucking perfect timing, he thought to himself, as he felt the hunger within him deepening.

Suddenly you can see an inhumane glint in his eyes as he tilted his head. It then struck you that it was the same glint that you saw from the maniac who had attacked you just a week prior — the glint of which, now you belatedly realized and remembered you first saw from Sunghoon that night during Jay’s party though you had made yourself believe at that time that it was merely your eyes playing tricks on you.

“I actually wanted to be gentle with you, to drag it all even slowly. You’ve made this hunt so enjoyable, I thought you deserve that. You know as a gift,” he said in a sing-song manner before hissing in a low voice, “but you’re making it fucking hard.”

You swallowed thickly, realising that no amount of strength you had put was enough to even shift his grasp over you by a bit. I’m done for, you thought in horror. As if that was not horrifying enough, you noticed how Sunghoon’s canines, which were already so pronounced to begin with, seemed to have grown longer. While busy scrutinising his changing features however, Sunghoon had moved to recapture your lips into yet another needy kiss, but now sloppier — reflecting the hunger that had grown so entrenched and urgent within. You feel his tongue brushing over your bottom lip, making you wince, before sending you thrashing harder when you feel him softly nibbling and sucking on your bottom lip. You turned your head away trying to free yourself and catch your breath but to your horror, Sunghoon had begun to trail open-mouthed kisses down your cheek then down your neck. You feel his tongue brushing against a particular spot on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His teeth then grazed your bare neck — the sharpness of which was alarming for a normal human teeth, “I’ll try to make it quick but let me tell you, it will only hurt more if you struggle,” he murmured and not even a second after, you feel a sudden prick of pain over the area. 

“What the fuck, Park s-“ you cussed, brows furrowed in a mixture of alarm and confusion, did he just bite me, you thought. You can feel something warm gliding down your neck. You didn't know what it was but suddenly you feel slightly light-headed. You wanted to yell and scream but your voice were all choked up, energy suddenly draining that you could not even push Sunghoon off even when he had let your arms go, his hands now grasping you by the back of your head and back while his head was buried even deeper into the crook of your neck, his body pushing you up against the door. Whatever was gliding down your neck had now begun dripping onto your right hand, as it was laying limp beside you. You summoned every last bit of strength to lift your hand to see what it was. To your horror, it was blood. But it was too late. Way too late. You had no strength left and your consciousness was hanging by a thread. Your visions were getting dimmer by the second and your senses were growing num. 

Suddenly it all seemed to click: the inhumane glint in his eyes; the otherworldly charm and ability to read mind; the Cheer Captain’s accident; Jungwon being hospitalised from sudden anaemia; him saving you from the maniac; his shrouded background — it all formed one big shocking picture that tied so well into the context of the rising cases of missing persons and bloodless murders beyond your town: vampires. Though it still sounded silly in your head, what is for certain is that Sunghoon happened to be one of them. But none of all that mattered because it was too late. You would probably die soon, you thought, and that meant the truth will die with you. 

Within the last moments of your consciousness, you realised that you had indeed been nothing but like a rat in a maze — stuck only to traverse paths he had designed for you. You weakly scoff at yourself. You should have trusted your gut feelings. The bad vibes you sensed — it wasn’t just paranoia nor prejudice, it was your inert self sensing danger. Just like how certain animals have overdeveloped their senses to better protect themselves from predators, your gut instincts was trying to do exactly that. But this time, you decided not to listen — the price of which you’re paying with your life.

A/N: YASSSS I’ve finally finished it phew. I hope you like this as much as I did. It took so long to make — sorry for that but I hope the wait is worth it. Please let me know how I’ve done with this one — so much effort has gone into this, I’m drained of any creative juices now. I’m sure you’ve seen millions of writers posting just how valuable comments are. Whether they're praising us or giving constructive feedbacks, they do so much for us. Basically just, feedbacks <3 while likes and reblogs are much appreciated too, it is the feedbacks that keeps us going — telling us that all the sleepless nights, hunched on the table were worth it. So with that, I shall bid you adieu. Hope you enjoyed it :3

 ▶︎ [update: Part 2 is up - click me !]

Masterlist 

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the guilty one

2 posts in less than 24 hours now ill disappear for another week!!

request from anon: dark + manipulative chuuya

cw: mentioned masturbation on undergarments, sending of unsolicited nudes + recording while masturbating, stalking, breaking in, noncon kissing, reader is scared and chuuya takes advantage of that MINORS DNI

- someone's been following you, and they're closer than you think -

you hear rapid, heavy knocks at your door, battering away at the old wood.

"[name]!" a voice calls out, one all too familiar to you, "are you there?"

you want to stay quiet and hope for your pursuer to leave, but you know him well enough to know he wouldn't just walk away, and he knows you well enough to know exactly where you were. a strong sense of dread fills you when the knocking finally stops - but you know you're being unreasonable. he wouldn't hurt you, right?

you've been tormented by the frightening occurrences, coming home to broken windows and cum stains on your underwear, missing objects, and cruel 'gifts' that only served to scare you. unsolicited pictures and voice recordings of lewd desires texted to you from a different number each time. outside, you're convinced someone has been lurking in the dark and shadowing you, coming close enough to watch your every move but far enough that you can't be sure if it's your overactive mind making up the sounds.

but these things, it couldn't have been chuuya - after all -

the silence doesn't last long before the door is broken through and chuuya walks in. the red glow of his ability fades as he takes slow, steady steps towards you, glancing disapprovingly at your messy living conditions.

"what are you-" he glances at the weapon clenched tightly in your hand with just a hint of surprise, not pausing his movement "[name]? hey, what's wrong?"

you stare up at him without saying a word, the tense silence enough to make him realize something was seriously wrong - that, and the fact that you were trembling under your coat. he stares back for a moment before sighing and crouching in front of you.

"[name], you there?"

you frown at him, slowly uncurling your fingers from the weapon and letting it drop.

- after all- despite the recent terrors you've been facing, this was chuuya. the stranger you met near the shopping district, who later turned into someone you considered a friend. sure, you didn't know much about him apart from the little information he shared with you, but he hadn't ever done anything to hurt you even though he had many opportunities to. you told yourself it couldn't have been. not chuuya, with that look of concern, genuine concern, not chuuya, with his charming, lopsided smile, not chuuya, with his back to the door, looking more like an angel with the lights beaming around him.

"you weren't picking up your phone," he begins to explain, placing his hands around yours and holding them together - you wonder if he was doing it to calm you down, because it was working. your phone was on silent, buried under the trash somewhere nearby. it just hits you that you hadn't checked it in a while - but you didn't have many friends, nobody you thought would check up on you if you had gone silent for a long time.

"so i got worried, and i thought i'd check up on you..." you want to believe his words so badly, you crave that feeling of relief and comfort, but you never gave him your address. he's never been here and yet he found you here.

"...brought you some groceries, you haven't been eating anything other than frozen meals, have you?" and how would he, despite not having talked to you for weeks, know about your empty fridge and your microwaved meals? you wish you could reason that he knew you very well, but it had barely been a month since you met him, he couldn't have learned about your habits yet.

you can only manage a little sigh. you're cold from sitting out all night long, and you're exhausted, but you don't want to fall asleep, lest the thing haunting your days creeps into your night. you're sure he already knows you haven't been sleeping, but whether he can tell from the hollowness in your gaunt face or from watching you from the shadows, you don't know.

chuuya takes your sigh as an approval or some sort of permission for his twisted act. at the sound, he puts his arms around you and pulls you towards his chest, cradling you against him for a few moments. it's too intimate to be appropriate, especially in your current turmoiled state, but you doubt he'd stop if you tell him to. you feel yourself freeze up as chuuya slowly lowers his head, closer and closer until you can feel his soft exhales on your cheek, your eyes wide and frozen in shock. before you can flinch away or cry out, he tugs your chin sharply and presses down on your lips with his.

he's desperate, lips moving sloppily against your still ones. he groans deeply, and it seems that although you haven't moved at all, he still found some pleasure in the one-sided kiss. the thought makes you shudder in fear and disgust. you briefly contemplate biting down on the tongue licking your lips open, but the thought is gone as soon as it comes. chuuya was gripping you far too tightly. if he were to get mad and activate his ability...

you think about the broken pieces of your door - it helps you understand who you're up against - that was an end you wouldn't want to face.

chuuya doesn't seem bothered by your lack of response. he only kisses you harder and deeper, until it feels like you can't breathe and then you finally push at him. when he finally stops, there's a crooked smile on his face, so similar to the ones he showed you countless times before, but at the time, you would have never guessed he would do such a thing to you.

"why-" you finally croak out your first words in a long time, "why did you?"

"you're so beautiful," is all he says, sounding revered, "even when you're suffering. you're always so perfect."

"i'm sorry for scaring you, it hurt me too, seeing you shake in fear, but at the same time, it made me so excited - i'm so terrible. i'm sorry," he echoes, "i just wanted you to know that only i can protect you. only i can hurt you, and only i can help you. i wanted you to depend on me and call for me, but you never did," he sounds pained, like a wounded animal, but you're the one who's cornered and trapped, not him.

"you're so pretty, even when you cry," he whispers, pressing little kisses to the tears rolling down your face, "you're so perfect, i can't believe it."

"i hate you," you sob, "i'll never forgive you."

he smiles, so strikingly beautiful and unrestrained that it stops your heart for a moment, "no," he commands, "you love me."

he says it so assertively, that for a fleeting moment, you believe it.

[tarpies]

Nakano Ko gets bored and decides to make it everyone else’s problem by taking up vlogging.

The video shakes a little bit, a finger thumbs over the lens as it attempts to focus. The first thing visible to the camera is a wide eye, staring distantly to the side of the phone.

“Is this thing on?” The visibility is clearer now, and now that the owner of the video has backed up, his face is more visible. He’s a young man, around average height and weight with short, light-brown hair and reddish-brown eyes. Of course, how could anyone miss his very prominent dark brows? To some watching the video, he looks oddly familiar.

He smiles lopsidedly at the screen, “Hi everyone! I’ve always wanted to say that.” He mumbles, “Oh, uh, anyways, some of you might recognize me, and if you do- no you don’t.” He winks.

He walks the camera over to a scenic forest, “The name’s Nakano Kō. And this is going to be my gardening vlog, stuff!” 

The camera shutter zooms in on a patch of carrots growing in the middle of a field. Nakano mumbles from behind the phone, “I was working somewhere else, but my boss insisted I take a break and do something else. So, he offered his summer home for me to tend to.”

Again, a switch back. “Anyways! I figured I’d just keep a vlog to keep me from going stir-crazy, heh.” He awkwardly tilts his head, “Should I just end it here?” 

Nakano waves at the camera, and the video ends- but for a split second, there’s a knock on the door.

CARROTS!! Vlog #1

Fierce Gardening

0—-------------------------0

3 views         0 likes   

Comments: 3

FOOD: I love your energy

PeachyKeen14: This guy looks really familiar tho lmao

          → Tartaglia’sRightEye: really? I thought it was just me 0.0 

The second video starts the same as the rest, with an overwhelmingly close shot of Nakano’s face in view.

“Again! Welcome everyone, back to my strong gardens.” This time, there’s a slow pan of a photo of the carrot and potato fields with comic sans font over it. 

“It’s been about two weeks since I last checked in, so I’m doing an update now.” He sighs wistfully, “Really, out of all my…friends, I’m probably the one with the least knowledge of plants and veggies.” 

“Oh! But I did get this from a friend.” Nakano smiles widely as he shows the screen a small aloe-vera plant. “She said this plant should be a little harder to kill, I’m not exactly the most fond of death anyways.” He laughs.

An ice-cube is placed delicately into the pot, “By placing an ice-cube in instead of regular watering, I can make sure the watering isn’t as harsh on its roots.” Nakano says matter-of-factly. “Anyhow-”

“Wooo- sick new pad ya got here.” A boy with an indifferent expression waltzes in. Nakano’s eyes widen in shock, mouthing a small “Koto-” before the camera cuts. The boy’s face was blurred, and Nakano quickly returned back to the camera as if nothing happened. 

The young man leans on the coffee table, “Sorry about that! I had a…friend, come over unsolicited.” 

“But anyways, let me go ahead and show you guys the new fertilizer I got in the mail.” His expression ripples suddenly, “This shit is literally the shit.” He cackles, before walking off to get his stuff.

aloe vera is very slimy | vlog #2 

Fierce Gardens

0—--------------------------------------0

16 views             3 likes

Comments: 5

Mabadass: good video but was it just me who noticed the weird leg ankle thing he had on? Kinda looks like a ankle monitor 

oooooooooohbaby: no cuz why am i only now just finding out that the icecube method exists. Ill try that with my next aloe plant cuz i always kill them :sobs:

                        → FOOD: try a succulent if u keep killin the aloe vera plants. they are perfect for u forget to water your plants

“Hey.” It’s the boy with the indifferent expression again. “You’re gonna blur my face, right?”

Nakano smiles widely, “Hello everyone! And yes, I will. I managed to convince my ‘friend’ from last time to join me this time.” 

“You’re lucky you’re rich.” Up close, he had a similar red-brown eye color to Nakano.

Nakano huffs, “I’m not, I’m just a hard-worker.”

“Working hard or hardly working, mm?” The boy looks slightly pleased as Nakano rolls his eyes and tries to put on a smile again.

The gardener faces the camera again, “Besides him sassing me, he’ll just be a guest appearance.” 

“Consider yourselves honored. You’re already annoying so I won’t do this again.” Nakano’s eye twitches. “Could you be less mouthy for once in your life, Buki?”

Buki sputters, “Buki? That’s the best you could come up with?” Nakano gives the camera a sly smile, “Of course. I’m so stupid and dumb and have no brain according to you, why would I be able to come up with something better?”

‘Buki’ clenches his jaw, his hand begins to dig down into his pockets before he looks at the camera again. “You’re lucky you’re recording.” He crosses his legs and arms. Looking very much like he wants to be anywhere but here.

Nakano goes off on his usual rants about vegetables and how they were the superior flower. In the background, the other man looks like he’s two seconds away from snapping the gardener’s neck.

buzzkill ruins my vlog | vlog #3

Fierce Gardens

0—----------------------------------0

1.5k views        10 likes

Comments: 15

FOOD: lol the new guy is funny

gonewithafart: their eyes are a cool color, im just now noticing. maybe theyre brothers? 

                          → bear wilson: it would explain the sassy relationship

Mabadass: ayo i think that guy has a similar ankle thing like nakano from last video?? 0:40

                       → deviceofdestruction: that’s weird damn

                       → Emily Windsnap: maybe this chanel is like one of those ones for house arrest smth?

This time, it’s not a video that goes out, but rather- a notification: Come join me, first ever stream ahh!!!

Someone clicks on the notification.

“Oh! Another viewer, welcome!”

Nakano is plowing deeply into the earth again. He’s sweating profusely, and the sun is beaming high in the sky- clearly, its midday for him. He wipes his sweat away with his tank-top, wiping dirt onto his black pants. 

“This time, I decided to plant some onions so I can make some soup. I learned it’s not too great to keep planting plants that use the same nutrients straight after the other in the soil.” He places a root inside the dirt hole, “That’s how you avoid dead land.”

angel of death : so ure just replenishing the soil with nutrients by switching out the crops

The man squints at the comment in the sun, but nods excitedly, “Yes, exactly, ya got it.”

Nakano smiles wistfully, bathing in the warm light of the sun. “Ah, this life I have is so peaceful. I love it. Truly, nothing beats working til’ you drop.” He frowns at that.

“B..blue…colla-rrr.” 

Nakano stiffens immediately.

Gennie Wish: did yall just hear that?

I will eat you: wtf 

jaeGAERRR: i came here for a chill garden stream not for whatever the hell that was

PeachyKeen14: dad is that u

mercibabe: yoo sounds like your mom after I [auto-blocked]

angel of death: nakano??????

Nakano seems to be arguing with someone off camera, very little of it is heard.

“-scum! I’m on cam-” The arm that was flailing about can be seen stilling suddenly, and blood drifts onto the fields.

mercibabe: oh what the fuck?

jaeGAERRR: uh guys????????

angel of death: is that blood

Gennie Wish: should we call the cops

cinema pacman: what did i just walk in on

Distinctstyle: is he okay. Did he get stabbed.

I will eat you: idk he isnt responding

Mabadass: im telling you something is suss about this guy

FOOD: stfu a man is dead

Mabadass: maybe the real dead man was the friends we made along the way

cinema pacman: SHUT UP i think he’s coming back

“Hey..guys..” He awkwardly chuckles, his shirt is stained red and an obvious hole is made in the middle of it. Almost like something went through it. “Sorry, I- uh, spilled red paint on myself.”

Nakano looks off in the distance, giving someone a ‘what?’ look.

PeachyKeen14: sir that is not red paint

jaeGAERRR: lmao big liar :clown:

He sighs, rubbing his hands over his head, “Okay, yeah. Sure, whatever you guys think. Sorry, I think I’m going to end this here.”

The stream lags for a second. Just enough for them to see him whirl around and begin yelling at someone, “Are you fucking kidding me, Ke-?”

END OF VOD

Come join me, first ever stream ahh!!! 

Fierce Gardens

0—--------------------------------------------0

20k views             100 likes

Comments: 200

Mabadass: what the fuck was that. I told you guys something was up

OH_ANA: is this an arg???

            → Gennie Wish: sounds like one of the more likely theories

Distinctstyle: lol he looked like he died for a sec there

mercibabe: for a first stream that was pretty intense, almost like what your mom felt after I [auto-blocked]

→ BUFORD: every sentence you say is an attack on my life

     → @BUFORD Can I get uhhh,,: sir ☠️

A few mindless comments later, and someone comes across this.

it's_a_me_sato!: Happy to see you all are doing well and have made some new friends 😀

→ Kotobuki Takeshi: What

      → @Kotobuki Takeshi, LoveKai-tes: lol wasn't this guy supposed to be    frozen that's crazy 🤔

          → @LoveKai-tes, Kotobuki Takeshi: Astute observation. I envy everyone who's never met you

......

...and that's it! Wrote this back on May and figured it should see the light of day even if it's not completed.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

Only For You - h.s.

Summary: H is usually pretty in tune with his body, but he’s apparently not very good at picking up when he’s getting sick. 

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of covid, plus me taking a guess at how covid testing in the US and at events works so sorry for any potential inaccuracies, I mostly used my knowledge of Aus but honestly its described all very generally

A/N: this took longer than I thought it was going to because I started and then got sick a couple days in :/ I’m still sick but she is done! If you have any requests pls send them my way!

Masterlist  ///  Send me an ask!

Harry is never sick.

He was so strict in his fitness and health, his immune system was better than almost anyone’s you knew. You were pretty sure someone could cough directly into his mouth and it would somehow boost his immune system by giving it a chance to exercise. There had to be fifty times over the course of your relationship so far you were sure you were going to pass on whatever illness you had acquired at the time. You always waited patiently for the other shoe to drop, for him to exhibit your exact symptoms and to be awash with guilt at his sickly state, but it never did.

It is such a rare occurrence, in fact, that he can tell you exactly the last time he came down with something. It was August 2019, he was in LA, and he had ended up missing two Fine Line album release related meetings. He remembered it because you had been in New York, tied up in projects of your own. You had pushed your flight up as a surprise to get home and take care of him, but by the time you touched down he had already been on the mend, and was sat in a rescheduled meeting when you opened the door to your shared home.

He could not recall, however, the earliest warning signs of a flu coming on, having experienced them so infrequently.

He dismissed the heavy tired feeling that had settled upon him, certain it was simply the aftereffects of intensive Grammy rehearsals. True to his perfectionist tendencies, he had been tireless in his efforts to make this one of his best performances and had been spending hours practicing a song you were pretty sure he could nail in his sleep. You said nothing of the fact that you thought he perhaps was spending more time than strictly necessary on this, of course, never wanting to undermine his process or invalidate his feelings of being under intense pressure. You just assured him you thought he was amazing and provided opinions and input whenever he asked it of you. He was overworking himself, but he was not deterred until the lights went down after his extremely successful (and extremely sexy, if you did say so yourself) performance.

Two days later, he was sure his hangover had extended over into a second day as he become aware of a dull ache in his head while awaking from his slumber. He groaned, rubbing his face as he rolled towards you, pulling you against his chest. He breathed deeply, cursing himself for drinking so much and sleeping so little only momentarily before thinking, hey, how many times do you win a Grammy? You stirred at his movement, eyes fluttering open only slightly before you shut them again and snuggled deeper into his chest. You sighed in contentment, loving nothing more than the comfortable feeling you can only get waking up in the morning, still on the edge of sleep. It had always been one of your favourite things, and it was only ever made better by waking up in Harry’s arms.

“I hate getting old,” he mutters into your hair, pressing a kiss where his lips had tickled your forehead.

“What?” You laughed at his unsolicited statement.

“Two-day hangovers are supposed to be reserved for after you hit thirty. But clearly, I’m older than I think I am because they have come for me and I am not enjoying it.”

You wriggled up in his embrace, so that you were face to face, giggling at him as you did say. “Oh god, do you think we should start thinking about retiring?”

“You’re supposed to tell me I’m not old!” He tightened his grip on you as he exclaimed in indignation.

“I mean what can I possibly say, H? Two-day hangover? You’ve basically got a foot in the grave,” you jested, but leaned in to peck his cheek at his faux sour expression.

In response, he released his grip on you and rolled away until he was at the very opposite edge of the bed in a big huff. You only laughed harder at his antics. You followed him to his side of the bed, wrapping your arms around him from behind and placing gentle kisses to the side of his neck.

“Darling, have you considered, maybe, just maybe, this two day hangover has nothing to do with the fact that you are getting older and more to do with the fact that you were working yourself to the bone for a month and then partied like the world was ending?” You pressed another lingering kiss to his neck. “Or perhaps like someone who had just won a Grammy?” A smile broke over your face at the memory, a fresh wave of pride washing through you, somehow still managing to leave you buzzing.

“Nope, I refuse to hear that. My youthful body is supposed to be stronger than any party, even an I-just-won-a-Grammy party.” You snorted in his ear, completely unsurprised by his steadfast stubbornness.

“Alright then old man,” you rolled away from him and hopped out of bed.

“Hey,” he called out, both at the jab and your exit from bed.

“Since my big shot Grammy winning, senior citizen boyfriend is still feeling a bit dusty I suppose I’ll bring him a coffee in bed,” you sing out over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen, craving the caffeine yourself.

He knew you were making fun of him to highlight how melodramatic you thought he was being. Each comment about him being old was really made to tell him just how young he was and how little you thought he had to worry about.

He sighed, wanting nothing more than to remain motionless in the warm comfy bed but having no choice to get up and make his way to the bathroom before he could enjoy his coffee in bed. (And maybe some lazy morning sex, he was sure that would help relieve some symptoms). His whole body felt heavy as he rolled out of bed, his limbs and shoulders feeling almost as though they were made of lead.

His brow scrunched as he slowly made his way to the toilet to relieve himself. This really was some day two hangover, he thought. I don’t care what y/n thinks, I’m pretty sure this is one of those moments where you realise your prime is coming to an end.

He flinched as the sunlight pouring in through the frosted glass of the bathroom window hit his face, instantly doubling the force of his headache. He grumbled and scrunched his eyes until they were nearly shut, attempting to minimise the light infiltrating his vision. He did his business as quickly as his protesting body would allow.

By the time he had returned to bed and bundled himself back under the covers the kettle had boiled and you were on your way back to your room. You shuffled along slowly, pausing every two steps to stop your nearly full mugs from spilling over the edge. Harry loved to point out the coffee drips that you left along the floor in your shared home so frequently. They were spread far and wide, and in fairness to you, most of the time you didn’t realise you had done it, else you would have wiped it up immediately.

“H?” you called softly, as you looked up from the mugs to see only a Harry sized lump under the doona as evidence that he was even there.

When you received only an, “Mmm?” in response you continued your slow spillage-avoiding pace up to his bed side table, placing the cup down gently.

“Are you feeling okay baby?” you kneeled down beside him, stroking his hair back from his face.

“Jus’ tired,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.

This shocked you somewhat. He’s always been a morning person, and never tended to sleep in two days in a row. The two of you had spent the morning in bed yesterday, having only crawled in in the (not even that) early hours of the morning and spent the rest of the day lazing about the apartment, nursing respective hangovers. Even with complaints of his hangover extending over into a second day, you had expected him to be itching to throw himself back into his routine, not curled up in bed still feeling shitty.

“You can back to sleep,” you assured, even though he seemed to already be halfway there. “Your coffee’s there if you want some.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving him to it, closing the door softly on your way out.

Two hours later, Harry stirs once more from his sleep. His throat is dry as a bone, and his once dull headache is now pounding. He lifts his heavy head off the pillow and his eyes fall to his now cold coffee. He reaches over and takes a gulp, hoping to ease the feeling in his throat. Is not uncommon for him to awaken with a dryness to his throat, he often finds a hot coffee is enough to solve the problem, but alas, he is desperate enough to settle for the cold one before him for now. Instead of the relief he is craving, a burst of pain shoots through his throat each time he swallows a mouthful. He coughs as he places the mug back down, unwilling to have another sip.

And oh Jesus, it finally hits him. He’s sick.

All the signs he had shrugged off now became blaringly obvious to him in retrospect. And oh fuck.

Alarm bells go off in his brain as he registers the risk of what exactly this could be. He scrambles for his phone on his bedside table.

Harry: Don’t come upstairs.

You glance down at your phone as you feel the buzz of the notification. You had spent the morning pottering around the house, catching up on little chores the two of you had neglected over the past few days in the Grammy busy-ness and subsequent hangover. Happy with your efforts, you had settled back into having a lazy morning and were watching television on the couch quietly.

“Harry?” you call out in confusion as you read his text, already pausing the TV and standing up, intending to do the exact opposite of following his advice.

You can’t have made it three steps before he’s calling you. The wave of confusion is soon followed by one of extreme worry as you pick up the phone.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t come up I’m sick,” he spoke hoarsely.

“What do you mean?”

“Darling, it could be covid you can’t come up here,” he was cursing himself on the other end of the line. He should have been paying more attention to what his body was trying to tell him. Shouldn’t have been risking you like this. If he had it, he was sure he had already infected you too and guilt gnawed away at him.

This stops you in your tracks. You hesitate, you do. But ultimately, you know if he has covid, you’re probably already infected. If he does have it, which you are praying he doesn’t because young as he is, healthy as he is, there is always a risk. The worst running through your mind. If the worst were to happen, you would curse yourself until the day you died for not going to him right now.

“It’s not covid,” you tell him firmly.

“Baby-“

“Your tests from before the Grammy’s were negative, and we should be getting more test results back any minute that will be clean too,” you’re on the move again, absolute in your resolution. The both of you, along with all the other attendees of the ceremony, had been tested both before and after. They were meant to text each of you with your results any minute (or call, if they were positive, but that was a possibility you were trying to put aside).

“Even so, we can’t risk it until we get the results.” At the sound of your footsteps on the stairs he spoke your name sternly, halting your steps again.

“Harry,” you countered, matching his tone.

“Please don’t fight me on this. If you’re so sure that the result is going to be negative, and that they’re going to come in any second,” he pauses to cough, lungs and throat protesting with each word he speaks, “then a little while in bed by myself won’t kill me.”

“But-“

“Darling, please. If it is covid, I’ll never forgive myself for not doing everything in my power to try and keep you from getting it too,” the quiet desperation in his voice is the only thing that could break your resolve.

With a long exhale, you turned back down the stairs but kept the phone to your ear.

“Fine,” you huffed, “but only because I was always taught to respect my elders.”

“See that’s the good news,” he half laughed, half coughed at the exhalation of breath, “I’m not an old man with a two-day hangover, just a young man with an unspecified illness.”

“Do you still have your smell and taste?” you asked worriedly.

“I could definitely taste the cold ass coffee I just drank,” he rasped. He paused for a beat, hearing only the rustling of sheets. “And our bed still smells like you,” you heard the smile behind the comment, appreciating his sweet reference to the love he often professes he has for the way you smell.

“Sometimes I feel like it’s nothing you’re putting on, and sometimes I think it’s everything you’re putting on plus just, you. There’s no other smell like it and I wish I could just bottle it up and have it forever. Bloody aphrodisiac,” he had once told you.

“And you’re not running a fever?” You chewed the inside of your lip as you fired questions at him, a bad habit that reared its head when you were worried, stressed or concentrating hard.

On his end of the line, he felt his forehead for warmth. “Umm,” he considered it, “I’m not sure. Probably not.” He was actually pretty sure he had the beginning of one, but he could tell you were freaking out and he didn’t want to worry you any further until he heard for sure.

“I’m going to grab you a thermometer and some cold and flu tablets,” Harry immediately started to protest but you didn’t let him start. “I’ll put a mask on and just leave them outside the door. I’ll grab you some water and something to eat too. I’m not just leaving you sick up there with nothing.”

He sighed into the phone. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

You scoffed. “Of course not, I let you win the last one not more than five minutes ago.”

He sighed once more, and you rolled your eyes at your overdramatic boyfriend. “Fine, but you have to be in and out.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you leaned the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you grabbed what you needed for him.

“I’m not joking, y/n. You have to be quick.”

You bit your tongue, refraining from snapping back. Did he seriously think you were stupid? You knew he didn’t, he was just sick and stressed about the situation, but that didn’t stop the flare of annoyance that burst through your chest. You shook it off, knowing it was misplaced.

“Okay I’m going to put the phone down so I can pop a mask on and run up,” luckily, you had a million masks around the house ready to go.

“Kay,” he muttered, eyes feeling droopy all over again.

You pull your mask on, and with arms full of supplies dashed up the stairs. Once you arrived at the door, you placed down the cold medication, water and thermometer as well as the banana you had snatched off the kitchen counter before turning and running back down the stairs.

As soon as you’re back down the stairs, you’re pulling your mask off and putting the phone back to your ear. You faintly hear the close of your bedroom door, deducing Harry had grabbed everything.

“I’m back,” you acknowledged your presence on the phone.

“Thank you for that, my love.”

Your phone dinged in your ear, indicating a new text message. You pulled it away from your ear to examine the contents of the text.

You breathed a small sigh of relief.

“They just texted me my covid test results, they’re negative.” Everyone had been tested upon their exit of the Grammy afterparty.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You silently prayed that pause wasn’t caused by him examining another incoming call, suggesting his results were positive and required an actual conversation.

“Mine are negative too,” he exhaled, you could hear the relief in his voice.

“Oh, thank god,” you said, already turning to go back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“I thought you were confident I didn’t have it,” he teased.

“Sorry somebody had to put on a brave face for Mr Worry Wart,” you teased right back. You hung up the phone as you reached the top step. Turning to the left and opening the door to your room.

You stride over to the bed wordlessly and climb in on your side, instantly wrapping both arms around him. He relished the embrace. You loved to poke fun at him, but sometimes the humour was just a way for you to mask how you were really feeling about things and deflect. Harry usually doesn’t point it out but he’s always aware of it.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice still croaky.

“I love you, too,” you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

You stayed like that for a moment longer before you swung into action, full nurturing mother bear mode activated.

“Now, have you taken your temperature? Taken some of the cold and flu tablets?”

At the shake of his head you frowned at him. “Come on then. You do that while I go make you a nice hot tea to soothe your throat. And a box of tissues,” you added at the sight of him sneezing practically hard enough to shake the room.

So back down to the kitchen you went for the third time that day, grabbing him both the tea, the tissues and a nice hearty bowl of porridge, figuring it would be gentle on his throat. “Temperature?” you asked as soon as you crossed the threshold of your doorway.

“No fever,” he punctuated with a cough.

You frowned as you watched it happen, his eyes were rimmed red, his nose beginning to run. He sat up in bed as you handed him the bowl of porridge. You placed the tea down so you could also hand him the box of tissues that had been tucked up under your arm.

“Thank you so much for all this, angel. But you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot, I’ve got a cold, I’m not bed bound,” he grabbed my hand and traced the outside of my hand as he spoke.

“I know I don’t have to do it, but I want to do it. My baby’s feeling crappy I just want to do whatever I can to make him feel less so.” Even after all this time of being together, your cheeks flushed slightly at your sappy words. You meant them, of course, but intimacy was still not one of your strong suits. The way you were raised lacked those kinds of affirmations and endearments, and was never modelled practically in your parent’s relationship. It left you both craving it, and feeling uncomfortable when it actually occurred. With both experience and Harry’s help you had gotten better at it, but you still weren’t 100% there yet. He knew one day you would be, though, and he was so proud to see how much progress you had made. Even if you couldn’t always see it.

Hearing those words from you, was just one more indication at how far you’ve come, and it warmed not only his heart, but his whole chest. With his grip on your hand, he gave you a slight tug, encouraging you to lean forward. Just as you had five minutes earlier, he presses a kiss to your cheek, craving your lips but knowing he can’t have them right now.

“You’re too good to me,” he praised as you pulled away reluctantly, giving him space to enjoy his breakfast while it was still warm.

He expected a joking, I know, in response but instead he receives a serious, “There is no such thing as good too to you. You deserve the world.” You don’t break eye contact with him, even as he is too shocked at your response to form one of his own. “But all I got you was this bowl of porridge sorry babe,” you broke the tension, pulling your hand from his.

“Where are you going now?” He pouts at you as you grab the half empty coffee mug and make your way out of the room.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” you assure him, already planning how else you are going to fuss over him. He has to be well to go to London to start filming his new movie soon, you reason with yourself. But really, you know he could have nothing coming up and you could be the busiest you’ve ever been, and you would still play nurse for him.

By ‘right back’ he assumed you meant in half an hour, because his mug and bowl are both empty by the time you return, and he is nearly drifting back off to sleep. He is still somewhat upright, but slumped back into his pillow, head lolling to the side slightly, directed towards the door almost as though is watching and waiting for you. While still conscious, his blinks are becoming slower and slower, reminiscent of a baby. You coo at his adorable sleepy state, the moment tugs at your chest so strongly it is almost physically painful. Sometimes, the magnitude of your love for him nearly sweeps you off your feet. You just feel so damn lucky to have these wonderfully domestic moments with him. To see him like this, to be his person that gets to take care of him. While he is a rockstar and you get to do all sorts of crazy things with him that most people dream of (like for instance, watching him perform at and accept a Grammy), you love doing everyday life with him.

“It’s not quite sleep time yet, baby,” you spoke gently, hoping not to startle him too much.

He peeled his eyes open and pouted at you once more. “Why not?”

“Because it’s nice, long, hot, steaming shower time,” his frown deepened, clearly not wanting to move. “I promise you, you’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

“You promise?” He refused to wipe the pout from his face, really stepping into being babied.

“I promise, now up you get,” you offered him both hands to help him up.

“Fine,” he groaned as he took your hands, and you pulled him up.

As soon as he was upright, he wrapped both arms around you and held you tight. He allowed himself a few short seconds before pulling away, not wanting to get you sick too. Even if it wasn’t covid, he still wanted his love well.

You shepherded him into the bathroom, where he winced once more at the brighter lighting. His eyes were always more sensitive to light when he had the flu. You turned the shower on for him while he got undressed, before turning to pull the blinds closed without him breathing a single word of complaint. His heart swelled with love for you for the hundredth time that day. To be loved by you was to be seen. He didn’t need to use his voice to be understood (though that communication obviously had its place).

“Take your time baby, let the steam help get all the bad stuff out,” you gave him a little smile before leaving, closing the door behind you to allow the steam to build up within the space.

Harry let out a sigh as he stepped into the stream of hot steaming water. You were right as ever, the steam helped clear him out somewhat, and even just feeling clean helped him to feel better already. He relished the heat and the soothing feeling of the water, massaging his scalp with shampoo as he began to wash up from head to toe.

He had no idea how much time had passed by the time he reluctantly turned the shower off and stepped into a big fluffy towel. He was much quicker in drying himself than he had been in the rest of his shower routine, eager to rug up in a jumper and some sweats (and some of those thick soft socks you bought him for winter).

He swung the en suite door open, contemplating where he left his comfy winter clothes last when he stops at the sight before him.

You’re putting the last pillowcase on, having changed the sheets completely. His breakfast dishes are cleared, replaced with a hot steaming bowl of vegetable soup and his bottle of water. You’ve dug the humidifier out of the cupboard as well and you’ve got it all set up and running for him. The book he was currently reading was picked up from its previous place on the living room coffee table and waiting for him on your pillow. The exact clothes he was about to grab were sitting at the edge of the bed, laid out ready for him.

“You’re an actual angel, ya know that?” He shakes his head in disbelief. He has no idea what he did in a past life to get so lucky. The success of the music, he can go to bed each night feeling like he has done a lot to earn. He’s worked hard for a long time, and while he accredited a good portion of it all to luck, he knew he wasn’t talentless or undeserving. With you, however, he had simply won the lottery. You weren’t a perfect person, but you were his perfect person. He would spend the rest of his life doing everything in his power to feel deserving of you.

“Only for you,” you say softly.

He strides over to you, holding his towel to keep it from falling as he went. He presses a kiss to your forehead and mutters an, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” you peer up at him. “Now get those on,” you gesture towards his clothes, “before your soup gets cold.”

“Where did the soup come from?” He asks as starts to shrug his towel off and pull his clothes on.

“Where did you think I went earlier?” you referenced your half hour long disappearance, having been downstairs chopping up and preparing vegetables to go into the homemade soup.

“Oh, angel,” he breathed, “you really are the best.”

“Oh stop. Don’t act like all of this is not exactly what you do every time I’m sick. Which is far more often than you are, I might add.” You weren’t wrong, he did baby you just as much if not more.

“You’re still the best,” he refused to relent.

“Yeah, yeah,” you end the conversation, not being able to handle too many compliments.

He lets it slide, knowing he could compliment you further and ask you to really hear what he was saying, because he meant it with his entire being. But you were doing so much for him, and he really was tired so he didn’t bombard you with more praise than you desired.

Once he was dressed, he hopped back under the covers and sat up with his soup. He didn’t have the appetite to finish it, but he knew as much of it as he could handle would do him some good.

You jumped into the shower yourself, wanting to feel as clean as the sheets did when you got into bed with him. By the time you were out of the shower and into your own pair of fresh comfy clothes, Harry had finished most of the bowl of soup and had set the remainder aside.

“Thank you so much, angel,” your cheeks tinted pink at the purposeful repetition of that particular pet name.

“Don’t mention it,” you crawled under the covers with him, picking up his book from your pillow. “Now, where were you up to?”

“Hmm?” he questioned.

“In your book, where were you up to?”

“Why?”

“So, I can read it to you, obviously.”

“Is that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“And why do you think I’m suddenly incapable of reading it myself?” He questioned, even though he was practically preening internally at the thought of your sweet voice reading his novel aloud to him. It was a beautiful novel, filled with rich descriptions and he just knew it would sound lovely rolling off your tongue, but you had already done so much for him today it was hardly for of him to let you offer this without giving you an out.

“I don’t think you’re incapable, I just know your eyes hurt when you’re sick and I can imagine it makes it hard to focus on the words. Plus, I always fancied a career in audiobooks,” you actually really wanted to do this for him, not viewing it as an inconvenience at all. In fact, you would probably find yourself disappointed if he told you he would rather read it himself.

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to,” he looked you in the eyes, gauging your expression.

“I want to,” you promised.

“About page 150, you might have to read the first sentence to check.”

So, you began reading, until his eyes grew heavier and his eyes drooped. Slowly but surely, he drifted off into the realm of peaceful deep sleep.

Not before, of course, he muttered, more than half asleep, “I can’t wait to marry the shit out of you.”

[lynnthefrenchtoast]

🌱reading fanfic reccs

so. i made a post abt my favourite fanfics and asked for reccomendations. and i can say with 100% certainty these reccs DID. NOT. DISSAPOINT.

so ill be posting my thoughts after i finish every fic and hopefully we can brainrot tgt

⚠️: i dont believe in unsolicited criticism so this isnt a 'judging fics' thing. its more like 'omg this is so cool let me scream abt it'

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

• i love the headcanon that the pearl galley is an..., aha,, bc one of my fav fics also includes it (unsure what fic it was but its probably Set in Stone by seredemia)

• HUTAO CONTENT WOOHOO

• e-escort childe??? im listening.

• "He wasn’t a good person, not in the slightest, but it was sickening to prey on the vulnerable." SEE WE STAN MORALLY GOOD MASS GENOCIDERS

• th-the way they describe zhongli god i mean we all know hes pretty but gOSH- IN A WHITE DRESS SHIRT?? WITH COR LAPIS JEWELRY?? MANZ I DONT EVEN DESCRIBE THE OUTFITS IN MY WRITING BC IM UNCREATIVE

• "exposing the salacious curvature of his legs." the writing feels erotic even though its not a dirty scene smhdirnr i aspire to be able to write like this////

• THE TENSION. thetensionthetensionthetension- also: gambling? not good. childe and zhongli gambling tgt in fiction? yesyesyesyesyes

• "Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself." god. what an incredible line.

• "but a human-sized lucky charm isn’t convenient. The purpose of a charm is to carry it around, correct? One couldn’t reasonably carry another person around all the time."

"You could with dedication,"

• *lynn is filled with dedication*

• (thats an undertale reference)

•“Maybe I do, but ask me if I mean it with everyone.” 

“Do you mean it with everyone?”

“No, but I mean it with you,” 

....SORRY ID SIMPLY PASS AWAY

• “I’m a detective, with the Wangsheng Detective Agency.” AND EVERYONE CLAPPED!!!

• slightly embarrassed for childe telling a lie to the man himself but the TENSION. TENSIONTENSIONTENSION- makes up for it.

• "was sort of cute, honestly, in part because of how impartial he’d appeared most of the time." ZHONGLI POUTING. CUTE.

• “I do not believe I am that mysterious or handsome, so you can just call me Zhongli.”

“Humble mysterious handsome detective then,”

yall think youd do so good in a mafia au but the moment he says smn like this to me its game over hes won im giving him my info

• the deadness of childe behind his playful facade is something i need more emphasis on in zhongchi fics.

• “You say I’m bad, but who keeps paying for me?”

“Arrogance isn’t a pretty look.”

“You’re one to talk.”

hes going to be important. hes going to be unlikeable, i know.

• ...BUT HE HAS BLUE EYES HOW AM I NOT SUPPOSED TO LIKE HIM

• blue is my favourite color black is my favourite hair color HE HAS BOTH.

• "my camellia." bye. yea. vortex, his name was?? yea hes mine now.

• side note; i has to go back and check the fic for vortex's pronouns bc i didnt wanna assume then i realized.... hes literally a book character how would i be assuming hE HAS NO FACE LYNN

• “C’mon, you stared at me enough the other night to know my body’s in great shape.”

Zhongli curled the hand he was resting against into a fist, pressing his cheek to his knuckles. “I was not staring at you.” 

• sure xiansheng, sure.

• "He wondered, was it an innate inclination to distrust? Or life experience? His myriad of scars, mysterious lines tugging at Zhongli’s curiosity, made him inclined to believe it was the latter."

the innate curiosity to want to see someone as who they really are. MMM.

• "“Did you rest well last night?” Zhongli asked, an innocent question which made Childe pause, calculating some hidden meaning."

genuine consideration for my wellbeing? oh no. *pulls out wedding ring*💍🧎

• “Believe it or not, this is me being gentle,” *COUGH* *COUGH* HEAR THAT?? ITS LYNNS SELF RESPECT- FLYING OUT THE WINDOW

• "-Zhongli imploringly to call off his attack dog"

CHILDE AS ZHONGLIS ATTACK DOG MAKES SO MUCH SENSE AGAGGAHSDH

• “Let’s get some food, shall we? I know a good place.” EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT TIME.

• "And you cannot hold a pair of chopsticks."

"I can hold them."

"Not properly." 

mood.

• im chinese and i also cant hold chopsticks

• “So with chopsticks, how am I supposed to eat rice?” He looked between the utensils and his bowl of rice as if he were figuring out a math equation. “Do I just… pick it up one piece at a time?”

Zhongli bit the inside of his cheek, and nodded stiffly. “Yes. Try it out.”

• zhongli, you true menace.

• theory right now: vortex is gonna be a part of the san flore gang.

• “if I recall correctly, you said you enjoyed those.” THEYRE SO CUTE

• "Am I not the epitome of caution?"

"No," Zhongli answered immediately, blunt as a hammer. "It’s selfish, perhaps even egocentric, but I feel responsible for your well-being since I allowed you into the investigation."

genuine consideration for my wellbeing? oh no *pulls out a second, more expensive wedding ring* 💍💍🧎

• THEORY AGAIN: VORTEX IS GONNA BE THE LEADER OF THE SAN FLORE GANG AND THE ONE WHO KILLED HAVRIA

• update: i was wrong abt the leader thing. THE HAVRIA THING MAYBE?? LIYUE QIXING??

• "Zhongli continued, far, far gentler than Childe would have been with himself." a detail. a tiny detail but wow.

• "He almost wished Zhongli would take his forearm in his hands and snap it in half, just to feel something familiar."

..you ok bestie-

• "he looked away politely as Childe changed into it, as if he didn’t work in a brothel where it was his job to be ogled. " TREATING PPL WITH BASIC RESPECT IS THE FIRST STEP TO GET THEM TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU GOOD JOB ZHONGLI

• "Cute, said a part of his brain, which he promptly dismissed, while another voice wanted to chide him into wearing clothes properly." ZHONGLIIIIIII

• the hotpot scene. ITS SO GOOD THE DIALOGUE THE WRITING THE CHOPSTICKS THE REX LAPIS THE FINALLY ADDRESSING CHILDES MYSTERIOUSNESS

• "This was nice. It made Zhongli's stomach twist."

• and

• "Havria was a vegetarian."

• amazing sentences.

• THAT GOODBYE SCENE WAS BRILLIANT. WITH CHILDE FLIRTING JUST BEFORE SAYING GOODBYE. AND WITH ZHONGLI WATCHING HIS FIGURE ALL THE WAY UNTIL HE DISSAPEARS. AND AND AND.

• i could literally feel what it felt like as you left your friend's house and soaked in the silence

• like that mix of 'woo im tired' and 'oh. its quiet.' TRANSLATED PERFECTLY

• "until he stood undeniably alone." see this line is perfect because 'alone' is obvious. 'alone' doesnt say much. when you say 'undeniably alone' it tells a little bit of a story: that zhongli is in denial of his loneliness.

• and that, i think, is the kind of writer i wish i could be

• "The hands in the mirror were covered in blood, sticky and red, heavy rivulets dripping down his wrists. The thick blood seeped into every crevice of his hands, stained beneath his fingernails. It kept dripping. He would drown in it. Even if he washed his hands again, he would not be clean."

• ...that imagery OW.

• "I mean, it's what a person is. Alive. Or dead. Or they’re you and get to be both alive and dead, but you’re a unique case.” THATS SO HUTAO TO SAY I LOVE HER

• ...ITS NOT FINISHED????

• BRO ITS SO GOOD BUT IT HASNT BEEN UPDATED IN SO LONG CRAP

..and thats where the notes end. PFFT

all in all, very much enjoyed it. thank you for the recc, SEND ME MORE THATS A DEMAND

[nejibaby]

Memories

Pairing: Neji x Fem!Uchiha Reader

Summary: There are a lot of terrible things that have happened to you as an Uchiha that you wanted to forget. But with Neji’s help, you’re able to move on and move along. Things have started getting better for you, however, once the Fourth Shinobi War was declared, time seemed to start running out.

Word Count: 2.1k

Memories - Part 1 | Deja Vu - Part 2

A/N: I didn’t exactly follow the plot and somehow it turned so angsty 🙈 Please let me know your thoughts~

There are memories you hold so dear that you refuse to have them tainted no matter what. Most of those memories are of the times you spent playing or training with your brother Shishui, his best friend Itachi, and Itachi’s brother Sasuke. Those times were the golden days for you; the best of the best, if you may.

Conversely, there are also memories that you just wish would disappear. They’re the memories of incidents you wish didn’t happen at all. They’re the type of memories that you push at the back of your mind, because you believe that if you think about it or even spare a single second for it, then it’ll be more real. Because you’re in denial. You’re in denial not only about the death of Shisui, but also of the Uchiha clan.

But then there’s a single memory you have that always stands out. It’s a memory that you both want to forget and remember.

The tragedy of the Uchiha clan had changed the only survivors — you and Sasuke. You had already started changing a little because you had to deal with your brother’s death, but seeing the horrible scene in the clan’s district had been the icing on top.

Your drastic change had been evident on the day you came back to the Academy after you were discharged at the hospital. What once was a girl full of life had become an empty shell.

The moment you sat down entered the room, people had started talking. Mostly it’s just about asking someone else if you were an Uchiha or if they know about the clan’s misfortune. They were meaningless chatters so you easily drowned them out.

But there was a comment that had reached your ears. “Why is it such a big deal? People die anyway, it just so happened her clan died on the same day.”

The comment kept ringing inside your head but then someone beside you spoke up, “Don’t you have anything else better to do than talk about someone else’s life?”

He was met with silence so he continued saying, “People die everyday, it’s a fact. Some die because of illnesses, some because of old age, some because of poverty, accidents, or murder. As shinobi, we can die in the line of duty. But that doesn’t make death any less painful to the one left behind.

“If your family is alive, then good, but maybe use that brain of yours because logic says not everyone gets to be as lucky as you.”

Naturally, you want to forget about the unsolicited comment of your classmate, but you want to remember that among the students inside the room, one boy had stood up for you. Quite frankly, you needed his saving that day. Otherwise, you would’ve beaten yourself up for mourning too long.

And when you realized who that boy was, his words weighed even more. Because Hyuga Neji was a boy notoriously known for thinking that everyone’s fate is predetermined from birth and that luck plays absolutely no part in it.

“Not everyone gets to be as lucky as you.”

And for a hot minute he had abandoned his belief as he stood up for you.

It sounds hypocritical if you think about it.

But maybe just as he had saved you, you had opened his eyes just a little bit and helped him see that his beliefs were skewed too. In a way, you had helped each other, at least you hoped.

It’s because of that day, that memory, that you find yourself gravitating towards Neji.

It isn’t attraction at all at first, more like genuine curiosity about him and his life. But you didn’t get to know him further until the Chunin exams where he had disclosed the way of their clan. It’s at that time where you understood why he acts the way he acts.

You can’t help but wonder about how two clans with almost similar circumstances— both with kekkei genkai, both living in Konoha, both considered to be one of the strongest clans in the shinobi world— could have completely different ways of living. One clan is almost completely annihilated, while the other has slaves of their own blood. And if you’re being completely honest, you aren’t exactly sure which is better.

You have gotten the urge to talk to him after hearing his story, although you really didn’t know what to say. But then the chance never came up because of the chaos orchestrated by Orochimaru.

After the Chunin exams and the attack of Orochimaru, you hadn’t heard of Neji for a while since you’ve been tasked to help with the repairs of the village. And when you did hear about him, it was terrible, terrible news.

Sasuke left the village to seek power from the very person who just wrecked havoc in Konoha. His leaving alone left you in despair. What Itachi was to Shisui is exactly what Sasuke means to you, and him doing such a thing without even letting you know makes you feel like a failure both as a friend and as a family.

The news didn’t end there, however. Apparently the squad that Shikamaru had led to retrieve Sasuke had been severely injured and were on the brink of death — one of them being Neji.

You remember feeling guilt and regret burning your skin. You remember the shame of not being able to save Sasuke from the darkness and not being able to help the retrieval squad in any way. You blame yourself for the horrible things that happened.

Since then, you have made it a point to visit the squad in the hospital every day, making sure you apologize and thank them for their service. But admittedly, it’s Neji that you always stay with longer.

It’s not that you aren’t comfortable with the others, they’re really nice and easy to get along with. But they always have other visitors with them, mostly their team members and relatives. Neji, on the other hand, didn’t get as many visits since his other teammate, Rock Lee, was also injured because of his fight with Gaara. So Tenten and Guy sensei would switch visits between the two every other day.

Besides that, his clan members rarely ever visited. And you didn’t want him to be alone in such trying moments, especially when you didn’t get to do anything to prevent this from happening.

As closed off as Neji is, because of your constant visits, you have found a way to worm yourself into the walls he put up. And by the time he’s discharged from the hospital, you somehow became close friends.

From that moment on, you find yourself coming to Neji on times that you’re in despair and in doubt. You trust him enough to tell him your stories, worries, and fears because he doesn’t judge you. And he does the same with you.

Neji listens when you want him to listen, and talks when you need him to talk. He’s quite level headed and very much rational, and because of that he gives the best advice.

With him, you find yourself healing and growing. With you, he finds himself learning to forgive.

Neji easily makes you see things in a different way; a different light; a different perspective, and helps you become a better shinobi and a better person in general.

For you, Neji has such a comforting aura. While he’s sometimes cold and stoic around others, with you, he softens up. With you, he’s gentle; careful even. And it’s because of this that you find yourself admiring him more and more.

But before anything could happen — before you could even confess — the Fourth Shinobi War was declared.

Just like that, time seemed to start running out. And you have lost all hopes of being together with Neji as a lover rather than a friend.

The war is awful. Quite frankly, it overwhelmed you too much, too easily. The bodies lying on the floor with dried out blood reminded you of the massacre of the Uchiha clan. But the only person who’s able to calm you down and help you move along is Neji.

The both of you fight side by side, always nearby Hinata in case she would need help. When the night comes and the enemies cease their attack, it’s your turn to talk Neji into relaxing a bit because he’s started straining his eyes from too much use. And because it’s you who asked and it’s you who’s there with him, he knows he and the rest of the Allied Forces are safe, so he rests.

But somehow chaos ensues and in the middle of it, you both get separated. You’re worried deeply, but you trust his skills and his strength, and you know you’ll be reuniting with him again.

And reunited with him you did. But when you have found him once again, he’s blocking out the Ten Tails’ attack with... his body.

With desperation, you transported to his side as quickly as you can. Summoning your last bits of chakra, you use Susanoo to protect him, Hinata, and Naruto. The last thing you remember is the look of relief on Neji’s face, but before it could morph into worry, you have already blacked out.

By the time you have woken up, you’re in Konoha’s hospital. The first thing you see is Neji resting his head on the side of your bed, peacefully sleeping, looking as angelic as ever.

Your body aches with every breath you take, even more so with little movement. But you didn’t let that deter you from weaving your fingers along the Hyuga’s hair. He stirs almost immediately and then he opens his pretty eyes. He sits up upon seeing you.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” You softly ask.

He doesn’t respond to your question. “You’re awake,” he sighs in relief. “You’re finally awake. Let me go call Lady Tsunade and Sakura.” He stands up.

But before he can even take a step, you grab his wrist. “Stay,” you mumble.

Neji looks at you, reading your face. But then he nods and sits.

“Is it over?” You ask.

“Yes, the war’s over.”

“What happened after?”

“It’s a long story… but tell me, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine. My body aches, but it’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal?!” Neji looks upset that it takes you by surprise. “Do you remember what happened? Didn’t you know you almost died?! You almost used up all your chakra to use Susanoo! That’s so stupid and reckless!”

His aggressive tone effectively gets you angry. “I did it for you!” You snap. “Of course I remember what happened! Even if I want to forget, the memory is branded in my mind! You fucking wanted to use your body to shield Naruto from that attack, didn’t you? How is that not stupid and reckless? Huh?”

Neji’s chakra flares up as he clenches his jaw. Yet, he doesn’t speak.

You breathe out, trying to calm down. You rarely ever fought with Neji and he’s never really raised his voice to you. With your body still tired and aching from the war, you didn’t want this conversation to escalate further so you try to diffuse the situation before it blows even more out of proportion.

In a low voice, you speak, “I was so scared, Neji. I didn’t want to lose you. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved.”

A tear falls down from your eye and Neji’s heart breaks at your forlorn state. “I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t…” you squeak. “I love you so much, I can’t lose you.”

Neji’s breath hitches at your declaration. He could hear his heart drumming against his chest.

You love him?

He doesn’t know if he heard you right or if his mind is just playing tricks on him. It happened before. He’s loved you for so long… and there have been plenty of days he dreamt of hearing you say you love him too. And right now he isn’t sure if this is the reality or just another one of his dreams.

As if you’ve read his mind — like you always seem to be able to do — you repeat your words. “I love you, Neji.”

It’s the confirmation that he needs. And hearing your words knocked the wind out of him. “I… I…” he starts saying.

But you’ve taken his stuttering and his pale, panic-stricken face as a sign of an incoming rejection, so you look down instantly and say, “It’s fine if you don’t like me the same way. I just hope we can still be friends after—”

“No, I… I love you too,” he breathlessly confesses before you even finish your rambling.

Your head whips up after the words left his lips. You stare at him, unbelieving.

And just as you did a while ago, he repeats his words with conviction, “I love you too.”

A smile makes its way to your face, and when he smiles back, you immediately know this is a memory you won’t ever forget.

[oh-three]

For the ask game 1, 7, 22, 25, 29, 30 for the whole gang? I know that’s a lot so you don’t have to do all of them

1: What’s your OC’s biggest insecurity and how would they react if someone pointed it out to them?

Rak- his biggest insecurity is that he's afraid to get close to others, as he was always on his own (with an exception to Vori, of course) during his time as a youngling. He and his master didn't even have the best relationship. He doesn't want to get hurt by others, nor does he want to hurt them. If someone were to confront him on it, he'd turn the situation back around and point out their own insecurities.

Brak- his biggest insecurity is the way he feels about combat. He can wield a lightsaber well enough, and is strong in the Force, but the thought of fighting makes him feel unwell. He would never deny it, as he's not the best at saying no or refusing others answers to their questions.

Vori- her biggest insecurity is that she fears being ignored by the others, as she really enjoys engaging in conversation with them. She wouldn't even try to deny it.

Tindri- her biggest insecurity is that she sometimes wonders if she'll be cast aside or transferred for some of the stunts she pulls against members of the team. If confronted with it, she'd probably pull a prank on the person to disprove it.

Linaleh- her biggest insecurity is knowing that one day the others will somehow die no matter what she does, whether that be in combat, of illness, or of old age. She would snap at whoever suggested it. And then apologize profusely if it was Brak or Vori.

Loktof- his biggest insecurity is that he's genuinely afraid of terribly wounding the others in sparring. Not sure if that can be said about Rakesh, though, as the two of them are far from close- however, he still wouldn't wish death upon him.

Jurr- his biggest insecurity is the fear of being unable to help the others in the problems (incorrect quotes problems aside). He'd never admit it, as he'd try to help them anyway. If he did admit it, it'd be to Cin, who he'd bring in instead.

7: Does your OC have any irrational phobias?

None of them really have any irrational phobias, though Vori is afraid of ghosts, according to the incorrect quotes generator. I'm willing to say that it's true.

22: How does your OC usually show affection? Are they openly romantic or more restricted with their affectionate emotions?

Rak- shows affection by willingly remaining in the same room as the others, and through the occasional praise or smile. Sometimes the others can even wrangle a chuckle out of him, though only Vori can get a true laugh.

Brak- shows affection with small, warm smiles and helping the others with whatever they need. He is very reluctant to do anything that they would not agree with.

Vori- shows affection with huge wholesome smiles and lots of words. And by the occasional playful teasing, though that is mostly directed towards Rakesh.

Tindri- shows affection by allowing the others come to her to confess their deepest secrets, which she vows to never reveal. And in borderline-bullying.

Linaleh- shows affection by sticking her neck out for the younger and injured members of the team. She will protect them from anything, even others within the unit.

Loktof- shows affection by not snapping at or being rude towards the others. He gives no praise.

Jurr- shows affection by giving unsolicited advice and by helping to train the team. He's kind, the kindest of the unit, and very patient with them. Even when their thoughts turn dark, he is willing to come to their side and help however he can.

25: How would your OC process the grief caused by the death of a loved one?

Rak- he would stew on it in silence, refusing to open up about how much it has affected him. He'd eventually end up taking it out in training, going too hard against his opponent.

Brak- he wouldn't openly cry, but he would definitely require the comfort of one of the warmer members of the team, such as Linaleh. When the tears do come, he'd wipe them away and try to hide it.

Vori- she would be visibly downbeat for awhile, yet would still try to lighten the mood with lighter comments, even if they don't truly come from the heart.

Tindri- would be visibly pissed, fuming, and the others would probably avoid her until it looked like she's not about to murder someone just for speaking in her presence. Would refuse to talk to anyone at all.

Linaleh- she would go feral, probably seek revenge on the person who did it if it was a murder or something, become way too overprotective of the younger members of the team.

Loktof- honestly, no one would know if he was upset or not, he just hides it that well. He'd feel a bit burdened, but it wouldn't show at all, not even in anger during training. The others may be able to rile him up, but their deaths do the slightest bit the opposite. He probably would eventually explode though. Metaphorically.

Jurr- he would be visibly saddened and appear more tired than usual, but he would still try his best to keep the team on track in their routine, and would offer any comfort he could.

29: How does your OC behave on the face of a conflict?

Rak- it would depend on the type of conflict. If it was sudden, he'd be thrown into a temporary state of shock, rendered useless for a few moments until he found reality. It it'd been brewing for some time, he'd meet it head on and go feral.

Brak- he would definitely break out and rely on someone else to watch over him. He likes the feeling of security that being in the Guard gives him.

Vori- would be briefly terrified, but would jump in to help out once reminded to do so by a companion.

Tindri- would also go feral. If it's conflict within the unit, she'd go to the security station and get old footage to blackmail them with.

Linaleh- would also go feral and not let the younger members of the team out of her sight until everything is over. She's like a mother duck or something, honestly.

Loktof- wouldn't hesitate to get involved and kill something. I imagine that he's tried to strangle Rak on countless occasions.

Jurr- definitely the most calm of the group. He'd just simply draw his lightsaber and do his best without letting emotion cloud his judgment.

30: What makes your OC defensive quickest?

Rak- anyone mentioning how the only thing he cares about is getting into the Archives. He desperately wants that, but even he doesn't want to be seen as completely heartless.

Brak- being accused of harming one of their own, whether that be out of malice or a prank. He'd never wish harm on a single soul.

Vori- being accused of being too happy, probably. Or being accused of being fake happy by people who don't know her.

Tindri- being accused of being jealous of someone over something. It makes her feel way too vulnerable.

Linaleh- being told that she'd kill one of their own if it meant protecting Brak or Vori. She'll never confess to be willing to go that far (but possibly would be willing to go that far).

Loktof- being told that he's getting rusty in his combat abilities. He's had to remind Rakesh of this several times, and it's never pretty.

Jurr- the thought of having to have one of their own transferred. He'll keep secrets from even Cin if it keeps the group from getting split should a situation get bad enough that it's necessary.