#aka the secret good version in my head

[lildoodlenoodle]

If one person likes this I will do a deep dive essay into spider noir Eyes Without A Face with my own insane takes/interpretations

[katz-chow]

because you're mine, i walk the line

synopsis: the boys are jealous, possessive even, and damnit, shakespeare was right, jealousy is a green-eyed monster aka how their jealousy manifests as and how they respond

warnings: hurt/comfort, partner aggression (mild), jealous boys, suggestive themes, insecurities, squabbling, slight angst, kinda cheating with gaz? but not really bc he's there and reader never talks to the otehr guy again

a/n: did this as my first ever writing collab and with the very talented @d0youc0py !! go check out their version of a jealous task force as well! this took a lot longer than i thought because of some personal life things. who knew planning a surprise baby shower was so hard?

“Nothing. I just thought you would’ve called, that’s all.” -John Price

It wasn’t normal for you to be out with your friends and come home with a bountiful of stories to tell John. I mean, it’s only normal because you both promised each other that there would be as much transparency as there can be between the two of you. Of course, government secrets and all can be difficult, but those were out of his hands. 

Your arm gripped onto John’s as you struggled to kick off your shoes, and yet you were still blabbing on and on about the adventures you had with your friends. John smiled, only half listening as he focused on your well-being; the way your chest was a bit heavy as you start to run out of breath, the way you stumble slightly, still holding onto him, and definitely the state of your appearance as it wasn’t as pristine as it was when he had sent you off. Really though, the only important thing was your smile, that must mean it was a good time right?

“Oh, and this guy almost mugged us.” You said casually as you take off the shirt you were wearing to wear one of John’s hoodies instead. He choked on his water (he wanted to stay sober so that he can spring into action immediately).

“Love, what?” He said concerningly as he made his way over to you from your shared bed. Arms wrapped around your waist and chest pressed against your back, he lowers his voice. “Tell me what happened.”

Chills immediately ran up your spine and goosebumps laid on your skin as you tried to do your skincare routine. His eyes meet yours in the bathroom mirror, staring sharp and certain. You finally look at him, a sheepish smile on your face as you rubbed the lotion in. “It was fine anyway, this guy stepped in and like punched him before he could even turn away with the wallet. I think he was the only one who got hurt anyway.” 

John’s gaze drooped a bit as he rested his chin on your shoulder, the grip he had on your waist wrapped around you and tightens just like a snake. You tense up. “What’s up with you, Baby? Missed me that much?” You tried to joke, but the slight uncertain quiver in your voice gave you away. 

“Yes, but why didn’t you call me?” He mutters into your neck, his warm breath tingles. He lets his eyes close as he lets the remnants of your perfume become droplets in his lungs. “You know I’m there for you right?”

You hum in agreement and closed the remaining bottle. Twisting your torso over to his, you let your own arms run under his shirt and around his waist. You nuzzle your head against his chest. “I know, Baby…I know.”

Letting your hips sway a bit, you tried to lighten up the mood, letting him rub soothing circles into your back and head. Even with this adorable act you performed, he still remained tense and serious. You detach from his body and lift your chin up to better look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just thought you would’ve called, that’s all.” He whispers, barely above a sigh. 

You twist your face into an amused and confused look and laughed a bit, “Are you…jealous?”

“No.”

He was a proud man, that much you knew. “Yeah, you’re not. Let’s go to bed.” 

Finally, as if all tension had suddenly dissipated, John lifts and throws you over his shoulder lightly, carries you over to your shared bed, and settles you down as you found yourself in a pitful of giggles. He lays down next to you, his beard smells of him and the minty aftershave you got him for his birthday. You press a kiss to his cheek and flicks a strand of hair away from your face.

“Next time you call me, alright?”

“I promise.”

"We need to talk about that little stunt you pulled earlier"- Simon Riley

It wasn’t every day that Simon Riley, a literal dead man, went out for a rather fancy gathering. But who was he to deny the fancies of his dear spouse who had been invited to a rather extravagant wedding of their beloved friends? So, here Simon was, dressed to the nines, engaging…or well, listening to small talk between some groomsmen who decided he needed to be pulled into “The Boys” rather than trail behind you. In all honestly, Simon thinks it’s just because they’re all military washouts who believe that having Simon, an active member, will boost their appearances. 

A sudden question snapped him out of his thought as he turned to the rather obnoxious man on his…nth drink. “You a real SAS lieutenant?”

“Sure.” Simon sighed agreeing and dismissively, not wanting to further egg him on to any conversation. 

“So what’s up with the mask? You sick or sum’?” Another man asks, this one slightly smaller than the previous. He, too, was drunk as a skunk.

Simon grumbles and blinks away his anger just for a bit. “Just a cold.” 

It was a dumb excuse but it seemed to satisfy the men in front of him as they returned to their conversation about cricket. His shoulders relax a bit as his grip on the champagne flute loosens. That was until his pretty eyes lingered around the scene until it got to yours. You, in your magnificent attire, shine in the garden venue's dim light. And then that pretty ring, which cost him a full year’s pay, winking at him playfully as your hand…grips a man’s bicep? 

Simon’s head turned a bit, confused, and rather stern paint washed over him. Who is that? Why are you there with him? Why were you holding onto his bicep, practically feeling him up? As if on auto-pilot he walks over to you, mind nothing but focused on you. Simon was calm, when was he not when you were right there, staring at him with a wide smile on your face? 

“Oh, hi baby!” She grin widely as the hand that was on the man next to Simon retracted from his side and snaked its way around his own arm. The champagne flute, as he now noticed, was left abandoned somewhere in his haze of 20 feet over to you. “Everyone, this is my husband, Simon. He has a bit of a sniffle…” You smile kindly as a hand gestures to the absolute unit of a man next to you. 

Simon waves with his free arm and scrunches his eyes to mimic a polite smile. He turned over to your form and was met with the eyes of his partner. “Love, I need to talk to you.” 

This surprised you, you didn’t expect him to have to talk to you about something so urgent that he had, rather aggressively, pulled you away from the main reception and into the nearly empty garden house lobby instead. You were starting to get rather upset at his shenanigans and ripped your arm away from his grip. 

“What are you doing, Simon? The wedding is out there, we’re supposed to be-” He cuts you off as he cages you in between his hands and the wall that he had backed you up against. Through the small windows that lined the very top of the garden house, you could see the night sky and the yellow lights of the party just through these limewashed walls. 

Simon, his voice deep and low, a warning to you as he leaned to your ear, “We need to talk about that little stunt you pulled earlier…” 

Your body shook underneath as your heart skipped. Simon’s breath tickled against your skin. “What are you talking about?” You whisper, hesitantly and quite nervous as your eyes flickered from his and the wall past him. "What’s gotten into you?”

Simon huffs, the medical mask he adorned on his face was gone, what was left was a devilish grin plastered over his scarred lips. “You really don’t know? You think I didn’t see you feel up that man, hmm?” Lips to the base of your jaw caused you to gasp as he continued to trail his skin on yours. 

It suddenly comes to your mind as to why Simon was acting so weird, so needy for you. “Are you talking about Conrad? The one with the prosthetic arm…?” Your voice shook as you looked up at him through your lashes, his face was unreadable but he was quiet. And with that, you knew the look on his face. “Are you... are you jealous?”

“No,” He quickly whispered, a hand reached up to tilt your chin up to his eye level. He felt stupid, letting jealousy seep in like tea and not noticing the rather obvious prosthetic that you were clearly just checking out.

“Let’s go home, say you have a fever.” You nod at him, your voice quiet.

"The Hell was that?" -Kyle Garrick

You knew better than to make Kyle upset or angry at you purposely, but you just couldn’t help it–especially when you two have been fighting for days. Fortunately, you two decided it would be better if you kept the fighting private, he’s pretty personal with his affairs with you anyway. So when the team asked you two on a night out to the local bar for the typical Friday night stress reliever, you two had to come to shut down rising suspicions. 

To say the pub was loud was an understatement as the sound continued to drown out any thoughts in your head. Your grip on Kyle’s hand was loose and your small smile was the only thing that prevented the awful scowl that would plaster your face. 

Even when Kyle sat next to you the whole time, he had his body turned away from you, rather to listen to Soap ramble on about some show he was watching than pay you any attention. You sat there on the stool, swirling the thin straw in your drink out of boredom. You swivel around the chair and look at the people mingling about. Ghost and Price were challenging each other to a game of darts and, well that’s it. Damn odd numbers…

“Lovely girl like you sitting here alone with a melted rum and coke?” A figure sits down next to you on the barstool. 

You turn in surprise and smile at him kindly, shrugging. Then an idea came into that head of yours, “Date kinda left me here. Might as well just get a drink huh?”

The man laughed, his light brown curls bounced a bit. He was quite handsome. From what you could tell, his hair and beard would definitely be out of regulation, so…civilian. This should be fun. “Well, let me pick off where he left off then hm?”

You nod and smile politely at him, feeling Soap’s gaze on the man in front of you as he waves down the bartender to get you a drink. “You shouldn’t have the rum and coke, between you and me,” He leans in closer to you, “It sucks.”

The bartender sets down two glasses for you both, he pays and tips her, and you two cheer and takes a sip. You feel Kyle’s back bump against yours, both still too stubborn to end this charade of you egging him on. 

Soon the stranger, which is a lovely civilian doctor by the name of James, led you by your hand to the small dance floor that started to form. Don’t know how but suddenly you’re dancing all over him and so is apparently every other couple also on a date. As you laugh and joke with the man in front of you, you feel Kyle’s gaze boring into your every movement, anger radiating off of him. 

The night ends, James leaves after you assure him that you have a friend taking you home soon. You finally have a good time after being so riled up with Kyle, you even forgot that he was the “friend” that’s taking you home.

So you sit down next to him, and as if on cue, Soap leaves to watch Ghost’s and Price’s ever-increasing bar game competition. You gulp as you see his knuckles turn white from his grip on the beer he was holding. 

“Told Soap we’re heading home. Let’s go.” He mutters to you as he downs the rest of the beer. He grabs his keys and walks out of the pub, not bothering to look at you as you nervously trail behind him. 

The car door shut loudly after you climbed into his SUV. Even then, he insisted on opening your door for you. He followed suit. You both sat in his car, the engine was on but it wasn’t moving nor was there anyone doing anything but looking forward at the people exiting and entering the pub.

He spoke. “The Hell was that?”

You gulp and turn to him, your anger was starting to cloud the nervousness that shook you. “That was me having a good time for the first time this week.” You turn to him and snap. 

“Really? Gonna continue that good time streak then, hm?” Kyle said to you, his eyes lingered on your stern expression, from your eyes to your lips.

“What are you talking…Oh. Oh,” You realize as he smirks at you and shakes his head a bit. He puts his arm on the cushion of the seat you’re sitting on, backing the car out of the parking spot. 

You both don’t even remember what the fight was about after that.

"Kiss me." -Johnny MacTavish

Sparring for you was never easy. It wasn’t because you couldn’t spar, it was because it was a hassle and you were lazy. But Price had ordered you all to at least get something in to not lose that particular skill set, that was his reasoning anyway. Truthfully, he just wanted to “break in” the new squad of privates that had just been stationed at your base, really give them that “141 welcome home treatment”.  

It was ass crack in the morning when you limped over to the awfully bright gym-warehouse-sparring building. They had the giant doors lifted up to allow for the cool dawn air to flow through and aerate the damp steel walls. Everyone was already there, except for Gaz, he slept in you guessed. ‘He knows what’s up,’ you snort to yourself. 

“Hey, Love,” Johnny’s voice rang through to your ears as you turn around to him, further away from the both of you stood Ghost and some other sergeants ready to make the line of privates fight for their lives in the Colosseum. Their faces said enough with it drained of color except for the dark circles forming under their eyes. “Better get up there you.”

He smacks your ass and you shoot him a playful glare as you walk towards the action, but of course shouting to him a playful comment, “You’re just gonna stand there and look pretty then?”

He laughs and shrugs as he grabs his thermos of coffee and stands off to the side. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to Ghost who’s pairing everyone up. “Think you handle that one right there?”

You look at where he nodded to, an E-2 who seems like he has better things to do than to be here. Honestly, he probably didn’t given he’s fresh out of basic. You snort and hit Ghost playfully, “Knock him off his high horse? Give me 30 minutes and motherfucker would be crawling outta here.” 

Ghost grunted in what seemed to be a laugh and called the private over. He stood and could look Ghost in the eyes without tilting his head up too much, so you considered that pretty tall. After that, it was you and ass-kickin’ time.

Johnny, however, had finally decided to watch in as he heard your name being thrown around and a string of praises following it, so of course he had to be there to witness. But as he watch you easily throw around this guy, he couldn’t help but also watch his gaze on you. The way he licks his lips and smirks ever so slightly when you’re both on the floor. Or the way he lets you wrap your strong legs around his waist to throw him down. Johnny doesn’t like it. 

He walks over to Ghost and whispers something, a usual grin and a joke thrown in to lighten and cover his facade of the bubbling anger he felt. Ghost knew though, the way his pal was practically spitting out that dick joke threw him for a loop. “Alright, that’s enough. Drink some water, you have 5 minutes!”

With that, Johnny took his cue and jogged over to you after you helped the private up from the blue mat. You pat him on the shoulder and grabbed your hand and squeezed it, your furrowed eyebrows together quizzingly. “Love, I got your water bottle over there,” he said, pointing to the corner the private was. 

“Oh thanks, Johnny, you’re the best.” He leads you over and the private side-eyes him and he glares back. You unknowingly went to just grab your bottle and drink up to moisten your drying throat as you pant.

Johnny grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him, your eyes wide as you try to gulp down the water in your mouth. You lightly toss the bottle away back to its corner and look at your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Kiss me,” he says more demanding than he would’ve liked but they had to do it quickly as the private’s eyes were still on them. 

He pulls you closer and giggly, you push him away. “Johnny! No, not right here!”

“Please?” He pulls out his puppy dog eyes that just frame his baby blues into the cutest thing ever. 

You pout and roll your eyes, “Fine, only because you’re so cute.” Your lips close the gap between you and unknown to you, his eyes peek open to shoot the private, now creepily watching you two, a glare that could set him on fire. The private quickly turns his head and clears his throat. 

Johnny stayed with you the rest of the day and Ghost made the private stay back for some extra sparring since he “wasn’t satisfied” with how you had beaten him every time. 

[gluion]

finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, gender neutral reader, some depressive and insecure thoughts, hurt/comfort, the last five years story-telling method (aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward... i hope that makes sense), brief mention of blood from picking on your skin, tiger parents so... parental issues, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, jealousy remains but love triumphs, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ 15.7k words

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by reneé rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ it's finally out! this is my submission for @deoboyznet's the love letter collective event! this work is so so personal to me on so many levels so i hope you all love and treat this fic with care :')) for the bitches who struggle with parents and dreams.... this one's for you (i am in the same boat) i appreciate everyone who's been so patient and looking forward to this fic's release. i'd like to thank @hcuyk for being a betareader for this fic! i also want to dedicate this one to @sungbeam and @wavesmp3 <3 your works inspire me so much and i think this fic is a product of how much they've influence me. hanbin's version is now available! please don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

present -> three weeks after the interview, 2024

the newsroom never sleeps. the rings of landlines and clacks of keyboards bounce off the four walls. through light bulbs or sunshine, light continues to remain. and at every corner, a journalist stands—ready to enter the depths of slumber but remain on their toes as they await for an update on their unraveling story.

but the newsroom is rarely busy unless there’s a major nationwide event, election season or the super bowl to name a few, for most journalists are out to discover what the world has to offer.

knowledge doesn’t only come from the chitchat of your coworkers. it’s only on the field that you’ll hear of hearsay and testimonies. after all, the choice to probe rests on your shoulders.

“there’s a typo over there.”

“huh? where?”

“over here,” you mumble as your finger darts to point at a section on the screen. “it’s supposed to say “in their climactic performance on road to kingdom,” not climatic.”

“ah, i see it now. sorry about that,” lee jihoon of digital development says as he corrects the error. his hair is disheveled from the hood that once perched on his head during the night he spent in the newsroom. you would’ve scolded the guy—go home and take a shower before you stink up the place—but you are no better, grouped with the other journalists who stayed up in the office.

“there we go. should be all good. now, are you ready to go through the profiles?”

an exhausted chuckle departs from your lips. “yeah, let’s go—”

“what’s the update?” life and arts editor kim namjoon—your editor—comes to you with a smile.

the grey hoodie he wears paired with comfortable jeans shows that he’s a little relaxed. for once, you don’t see him on his phone, battling the deadlines or getting pitched stories by the other editors. it’s a nice sight but one that won’t last for long.  

“we just finished going through the article about the group, so we still have yet to go through the profiles.” jihoon then looks at you. “i can’t believe you basically wrote 12 articles. like, 11 profiles and one main article is a lot. you didn’t want to work on it with anyone else?”

once namjoon stands beside you, you bump your shoulder against his figure. “i didn’t have a choice, did i?” it’s a rhetorical question but one your editor still chooses to answer.

“unfortunately, we’re understaffed, but it seemed like you got the hang of it. i wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.” namjoon shoots you a smile before redirecting his attention back to jihoon. “and as much as i’d love to tell y/n more, we have to pick up the pace.” without any further questions, the three of you resume with work. 

there’s no time to waste in the journalism industry. still, his praise doesn’t go unnoticed. 

one article turned into eight done in a matter of 30 minutes, all with the help of three pairs of eyes to go through them. (namjoon seemed to carry the heavy lifting. after all, the guy was trained to be quick in reading and spotting errors.)

it should’ve been easy to keep up with your editor for all the other articles; you know each profile like the back of your hand.

then, the face of a boy who you once knew sits on the screen.

his gaze seems to pierce through your soul, almost in the same way you last talked to him. the loose ends of composure slip through your fingers; your breath’s stuck in your throat as the hammering of your heart fills your ears. yet, he stands still on the monitor.

as your eyes drift through the passages you’ve written, every sound is drowned out. the voice of your editor fades like the everchanging seasons and the clicks of the keyboard resemble the sobs you let out in the comfort of your childhood room.

and suddenly, the hands of the clock have turned all the way back to 2014. the cubicles transformed into aisles of chips and instant ramen, and you hear mr. kim’s voice in the distance—i have some hotteok! fresh from the pan! but amidst it all, you hear the giggles of the boy, your best friend, as he rushes towards you—i’ll go audition and make you proud. as your arm is wrapped with the heat of his fingers, you almost believe that your life as a journalist is nothing but a dream—

“i knew him.” the illusion disappears within a blink of an eye. namjoon’s eyes snap towards you and jihoon stops scrolling through the website. “we went to the same high school.”

you aren’t sure why you revealed that to your coworkers, let alone your boss. it’s an old memory—your weight to carry. before you can apologize for disrupting their work, namjoon’s hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing shapes into it. when you look over at him, you’re greeted by his smile. it resembles your bed after a long day of work or a slow day at the newsroom.

but it never lives up to him, whose giggles resemble nature’s symphonies. the two shots of espresso you need at the start of the day once came in the form of his warm embrace. most of all, his smile is enough to illuminate the world even through the strongest storms and times when power went out.

for the remaining articles, not a single word leaves you. before you know it, all 12 articles were ready to go up on the web.

“that’s all of it. should i still schedule them to go up around 12 p.m.?” jihoon notes as he saves the drafts.

“yeah, 12 p.m. still sounds good. thanks a lot.” namjoon nudges his shoulder before looking over to you. “let’s talk in my office.”

you don’t question his orders. once namjoon takes off, you follow him all the way to his office. as he swings the door open, you are met with the familiar sight of his workspace. hues of green and brown mix, where nature and art meet within the space of corporate.

once namjoon takes a seat on his chair, you find your spot across from him. his eyes stare off to the window. for a moment, you’re not sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting.

seconds pass and not a single word has been said—

“this place’s always alive,” your editor breaks the silence. “don’t you think so?”

you follow his line of sight. busy seoul never changes; the skyscrapers pollute the sky and the people never sleep, off to work or off to party.

“where’d you grow up again?”

you look back at namjoon whose eyes still remain locked on the city. “cheongju.”

he hums. “i haven’t been there. nice place?”

“yeah, but i haven’t gone back in a while.”

“when was the last time?” his eyes finally meet yours.

your teeth grasp the inside of your cheek. “2014, since i first left,” you admit. 

“do you miss it?”

you’re not sure how to answer. the pavements you’ve scraped your knees against and the walls your laughs bounced off of—do you miss them all? or is the reason behind your laughter and scabs the one you long for?

“is that why you were hesitant about interviewing them?” namjoon’s thumbs fiddle with each other. “because of your history with him?”

now, you stare at your linked hands. maybe the silence from you is enough to answer his question but you know namjoon would never settle for a soundless answer.

“i—i’m not a good person. and even if i didn’t make the choice to leave, i—” you hold yourself back. your fingers start to pick on the skin around your thumbs, peeling it so blood can spill. 

“it’s okay, i understand. you don’t have to share it with me.” your eyes drift back to namjoon, spotting a small smile that rests on his face. “it must’ve been hard to relive it all.”

the bond you have with namjoon is one that you hold close to your heart. through his mentorship, you got to learn about what it means to be a writer. the fears of being a journalist would loom over you, where questions of salary and demanding work hours would occupy your mind, but namjoon became someone who would absolve them all. he became a pillar in your life, one that provides you hope and comfort within the industry.

“so, don’t feel pressured to talk about it. but if you ever want to open up about it, then i’ll be here.”

namjoon’s giving you an exit. are you willing to take it?

you cross your arms as you lean back into the chair. “you know how i was a science major then?”

“yeah, i remember looking over your resume. and then i saw that you were part of your university’s publication.”

your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek. “i would’ve gotten some job in that field, like, i had it lined up for me.”

“really? like lab coat and all?”

as namjoon attempts to hold back his laugh over the image, you chuckle along. “yeah, lab coat and all! it’s crazy how my life was all set for that field, but i’m here now.” you look down at your arms. “i think just facing him in a completely different field that i once used to imagine with him was just strange. but i think hearing his answers really did it for me.”

namjoon nods at your words. “care to have lunch with me?” your eyes snap back to your editor. “i’m guessing you want to talk about it, after all.”

all you do is smile before getting off your seat.

spring of 2014

the season of spring has graced cheongju; the sun gleams in the expanse of blue and birds perched on tree branches sing their songs. it’s the perfect season to embrace the wonders of the town.

while it would be a delight to bask under the returning warmth, you’re stuck within the walls of the classroom, head resting on crossed arms. 

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

“y/n.” you quickly sit up before your eyes settle on your adviser, ms. jeon, who stands in front of the classroom. “let’s take attendance.”

with that, you’re beside her as you call out each name on the class list. it’s a quick process of saying your classmates’ names for them to respond in variations of “present,” until you reach the section of last names that start with a ‘j’.

“ji changmin.” no response.

you rip your eyes off the piece of paper, only met with your classmates who either look at each other in confusion or spaced out in their own worlds.

“ji changmin?” when you’re met with the same reaction, you’re ready to mark the student absent—

“sorry!” the doors slam open. a boy clad in a white polo and jogging pants is panting by the entrance, covered in sweat as he rests on the edge of it. “sorry, i’m late.”

“oh, it’s okay! you arrived just in time.” ms. jeon smiles at the tardy student. as you watch him take a seat, his eyes lock with yours, but your adviser nudges you before saying, “y/n, proceed.”  

ji changmin made his name a few years back at a competition. the applause and roars from the crowd marked his spot in the school. others describe his movement as of cranes, standing in the middle of a pond as they do their best to minimize forming any ripples, or of elephants, swaying their trunks with control like no other.

but he’s a versatile dancer; nothing can truly capture him.

once you’ve finished marking the attendance, you go back to your seat. you’re ready to start the day with no bother but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“now, you can see in these,” your art teacher, ms. park, points to the screen showcasing works from her favorite contemporary artists like kwon yongju and félix gonzález-torres, “that there are no borders to what constitutes art. and that’s not wrong because we have to recognize that art comes in different forms as we progress, from traditional painting and sculptures to digital ones.”

this field isn't your strong suit. with a greater understanding of the sciences, you struggle to create anything that could be on par with the works of any artist. yet, you enjoyed learning about every piece that your teacher shared, like unfolding and admiring something you know you can never replicate or create. still, the universe decides that they have other plans for you.

“as i mentioned before, i’ll be giving you time to work on your final assessment, which is to create an artwork for the class exhibit. for this deliverable, i’m asking that your work will be a collaborative one, meaning you aren’t working alone.” in a sea of chatter, some groans exit your classmates. “remember, inspiration doesn’t come from your own bubble! take this as your opportunity to create something that you’ve never imagined.”

within a split second, students are off their seats as they attempt to find a partner to work with. you, however, were struggling to think of who you could team up with. admittedly, you have a very different work style compared to others—even cheng xiao, aspiring valedictorian, didn’t enjoy working with you. she turned every activity into a competition against you. (you didn’t enjoy her, either.) while you’re considering shamefully going up to your classmates like a stray dog looking for anyone willing to care for them—

“hi!” in front of you stands the tardy student of today, all smiles as his hands find comfort in the pockets of his jogging pants. “do you have a partner already?”

with furrowed eyebrows, you can’t help but look him up and down. “no, why?”

“well,” changmin looks around the classroom, “everyone seems to have paired up except for us.” as his eyes drift back to you, he flashes you a smile, one that shows the dips engraved into his cheeks. “which leaves me to ask if you would like to work with me for this.”

you don’t have a choice. ms. park would never bend the rules for you. if anything, she would find a way to pair you with another student who would dread the idea of working with you. (“i’m sure they won’t mind being partners with you, right?” is what she would ask the poor student, only to be met with their retreat.)

“unless we accept a failing mark, which i’m sure we both don’t want.” it’s not like changmin had a choice as well.

“okay.” with one word, light fills his eyes, enough to resemble the starlight that grazes your skin every night. “we can meet and discuss our schedules, especially because i’ve got ap stat, and you have, uhm,” a cough leaves you, “training, i’m assuming, or rehearsals. i don’t really know what you call them.”

his eyebrows shoot up as his mouth parts open. “o—oh, yeah. i usually have training after class until 8 p.m. on tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays.”

“same. my classes are until 7 p.m. on tuesdays and thursdays, so maybe we can use the other days to work together?”

with one nod from him, his dimples reappear. “great! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

before you know it, everyone finds their way back to their seats for ms. park’s final reminders. you do your best to pay attention to every announcement, jotting down every word on your planner and planning out your agenda for the upcoming weeks. yet, your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they drift back to the boy who discreetly passes notes to kim donghan, another dancer on the team, all while listening to the teacher.

you don’t notice how long you spend staring at changmin until he turns to meet your gaze. in that split second, you look at each other—then, embarrassment washes over you. you shift your attention back to ms. park. as you drum your fingers against the desk, mentally kicking yourself over the interaction, you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you.

his dimples make their reappearance before he looks back at ms. park. you do the same as you attempt to listen to her ramble about banksy’s works. 

(you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

the first time you get to meet with changmin for the project happens the following week. you two had different commitments to attend to, whether it be other projects or training. and while you would usually settle to meet in the school library or a cafe nearby, you find yourself inside the empty gymnasium, sitting on bleachers while your partner stands in front of mirrors.

“don’t you think it would be nice to combine our hobbies together?”

your pencil taps against the notebook. “like, your dancing? with what?”

“whatever you like to do!” once he makes his way to you, he leans on the row in front of you with crossed arms. “i mean, do you have anything you like to do during your free time?”

a scoff leaves you. “funny of you to assume that i have free time.”

“what’s your schedule like?”

“well, i have our classes and ap ones, then kumon at night.”

changmin reels at the thought of your schedule. “that’s brutal. the last time i had kumon was back in grade 4.”

“yeah, but i’m sure yours is busy as well. the amount of time that you put into training is…” his eyes are wide, hanging on your words. it’s the hope they hold that has you say, “admirable.”

a shy smile takes over his features. “yeah, but it’s only because my family is supportive of what i do.”

then, limbs whose color resembles the void slither their way to your heart, wrapping around it while the organ struggles to beat; it’s a slow process but an unending hole that will birth from it. yet, you do your best to fight off these limbs, unraveling them one by one in hopes it will give up—until you settle for shaking them off.

you only muster out a hum.

“do you have anything you like to do during those short breaks?”

your lips trill. “i don’t know. watch something on youtube?”

his cheeks puff up, stuck in his thoughts as he tries to navigate this project—and you—until his eyes glint. “what do you do when you want to vent?”

“you sure have a lot of questions,” you comment, trying to hold back a chuckle at his curiosity. “i can just adjust to you. maybe attempt to draw, picture, or even film you.”

his eyebrows furrow. “but that wouldn’t make it collaborative. i want us to work on something that aligns with what we do.”

a beat passes.

he holds your gaze. “i want us to create something that shows us.”

inside you, a gong is struck; its sound reverberates throughout your body, from the crown of your forehead to the tips of your toes. then, silence seeps in—a moment only for you and him.

“i, uh, write,” you whisper as your eyes shift to the notebook resting on your lap.

“really? like, stories and poetry?”

you nod. “i like writing people’s stories more, but i do like making ones.” when you look back at changmin, his eyes are still filled with curiosity. “i would, like, find interviews online and try to make my own, sort of, uhm—god this is embarrassing. forget about it.”

“huh? no, it isn’t!” he attempts to reassure your shrunken figure. “i mean, you don’t have to share more if you really don’t want to, but i’d like to hear more about it.” and when his dimples appear, you almost can’t help but feel your face warm up.

“i’d make articles, i guess?” he nods along with your words. “i don’t know, it’s just interesting to hear about people’s lives and kind of create something out of it, and i like thinking about all the possibilities of who would love to hear them. like, don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?”

“that’s an interesting way to look at it.”

as you doodle on your notebook, you say, “yeah, it’s just fun to hear these stories and maybe create something out of it. or even think of stories that i could never live out, you know?” you expect yourself to be met with the bored face of changmin but his eyes remain on you.

“what if you interview me?”

your eyebrows shoot up. “you?”

“yeah,” he stands up before walking up to your row, finding a spot beside you. “think of me as your first interviewee if you want.”

the sudden suggestion has you stumbling over your words. “huh? b—but, i don’t have questions prepared. and how does this help our project?” 

when his arms brush against yours, you start to become aware of the distance between your shoulders—and his face from yours. warmth spreads throughout your body, almost like you’re about to have a fever. once his open hand rests near yours, you don’t know what he’s asking.

“let me draw it out for you.” you hand him your pencil and notebook, allowing him to see your doodles. (you don’t miss his grin.) “you know, with that article you make, we can cut it up and create something out of it.” a roughly drawn sketch of a boy posed in the middle of a dance move now rests on the page. “i don’t know if a collage would be okay.”

as you think about what can be done, you perch your chin on your palm. “we can do papercut art? basically, it’s cutting up the article in a way to form an image.”

“oh, that sounds cool!”

“yeah, but the only challenge is that we can only use one piece of paper.” a sigh leaves you. “it would be impossible for me to even do that.”

“that’s why you have me.” his small smile causes wind chimes to ring. (you’re positive you heard them, even if there were no such things in the gymnasium.)

he continues to sketch out the layout of your joint artwork. “how do we feel about this?” on the paper, there are two boxes beside the figure, where one is labeled as “photo of me” while the other is labeled “an article by y/n.” your head tilts. “it’ll be a three-set piece. so, it’ll be a photo of me and your article, and in between is the papercut art that we’ll make.”

you hum. “you know, you’re very creative.” you look at him only to see that he’s been staring at you. “like, you’re inclined to the arts. i wouldn’t have been able to think of something like this.”

“you’re just as creative,” he argues back as he writes down something.

you shake your head before retorting, “changmin, you’re very talented. i’ve seen the way you dance,” his movements halt, “and you’re like no other dancer i’ve seen. if you ever try out to be an idol, i’m sure you’d do great, maybe end up on the list of the best dancers in the industry.”

but he shakes his head, going back to writing on your notebook and shutting down your compliments. you decide to not push.

“i can get the photo sometime during my training,” he says as he hands you your notebook.

“then i can have the questions sometime this week. for the article, i can have it done maybe four days after the interview. how does wednesday, after school, sound for the interview?”

he shoots you a smile before standing up from his seat. “that’s perfect! i’m looking forward to meeting journalist y/n.” you can’t help but scoff at what he calls you. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head. “it’s just a silly name.” because the reality is that you had your future planned out—and it definitely didn’t involve that field.

he shrugs. “i don’t know, i think it would fit you.”

“but you haven’t read any of my works.”

“but i want to root for you in the same way you do for me. i don’t want you to feel ashamed of your works.” a fire ignites in your heart; it’s a fireplace.

you’re baffled that changmin, out of all people, now holds your secret, but you’re even astounded over the idea of him supporting you. you almost can’t remember the last time you heard such words of support. is it genuine or nothing but a facade?

“anyway, i’ve got to go. i need to catch up on some homework.” while you shoot him a nod, his dimples make their appearance once more. “i’ll see you tomorrow!” as he takes off, you’re left in the gymnasium with your opened notebook and unlocked heart. you look back down at his sketch surrounded by your doodles, but you don’t miss his little note—cute doodles btw <3

the season of spring has unfolded in cheongju; a single lilac has bloomed.

present -> a day before the interview, 2024

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was something home cooked. something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stock up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob dashes away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

changmin’s fingers tense up, almost as if he was hesitating—debating—on how to approach you. his body would waver, but he never took a step towards you. “i… i wasn’t expecting to meet you here.” 

“same here.” you lean your back against the checkout counter. “d—do you stay around this part of the city?”

he shakes his head. “i live around 15, maybe 20, minutes away from here. i’m only here because…” your breath gets caught in your throat. “i don’t know.”

fate. that’s what brought us here.

“do you live here?”

you nod. “yeah, ever since—” the sentence never gets completed; you and him already know.

for a moment, sorrow flashes in his eyes, but a smile shows up. the dimples don’t appear. “i, uh, i was going to get something from here but it seems like your friend is busy.”

“sorry about jongseob.” you whip out your phone and scold him through text. “he should be with us in a bit.”

changmin hums before walking to the freezer filled with different ice cream. as he looks through the selection, he asks, “do you still like twin bar?”

“y—yeah.”

“still the grape flavor?” you don’t know what to say, but when his gaze meets yours, you settle for a nod. with your favorite ice cream in one hand and a sandwich in the other, he finally walks towards you. you don’t miss the slight stagger in his steps.

changmin finds his spot beside you. there’s still distance between you two—two tiles worth, enough space for one person—but it’s enough for your muscles to freeze. thankfully, jongseob comes just in time to manage the cashier (with an awkward smile plastered on).

he scans changmin’s item first before grabbing onto your ice cream.

“oh, i’m paying—”

“no, let me,” changmin insists. “you can always treat me another time.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking over the second half of his sentence. jongseob holds back from scanning the item, until you shoot him a nod. changmin pays for the food before jongseob hands them to you.

“i’ll just let you know when the pizza gets here.” his small smile is enough for your shoulders to ease and a quiet exhale to leave. a small nod is all you give him.

you follow changmin outside to the tables in front of the mart. once he’s settled on a spot, you sit across from him. he tears away the plastic wrapping of his food while you play with the ends of yours. 

while he swallows what you assume to be his dinner of the day, you’re left to swallow your own pride.

“i’ve seen your performances.” his chews halt. “you’re—” captivating. “you’ve improved a lot.”  

with one gulp, a shy smile takes over his face. “i still have a long way to go.”

“you always say that, even back then.” a half bitten sandwich now rests on the wrapper. “but i admire your drive.” always have.

while a different version of changmin sits across you, the one you knew back in cheongju still lives. in the busy, unfamiliar expanse of seoul, meeting 10 years later, he’ll never be stranger. you could never treat him as such, even if you wanted to.

“there’s always room for improvement,” he says.

you hum along with his sentiment. “did you stick with early childhood education?” you’re met with his orbs that hold a thousand of emotions, some you can name as shock, confusion. a question hangs in the air—what did you deserve to know?

“sorry, i’m assuming you still went to college, which is totally fine if you did or didn’t, by the way. and it’s also okay if you didn’t stick to your major. i mean, you always talked about pursuing a performing arts degree before—”

“y/n,” he giggles, “you’re okay. i still went to college but i took media & communication.” your eyebrows shoot up at the revelation. “i thought it made sense to study something related to what i do, just the more technical and theoretical side of it, i guess. and the online classes were easy to squeeze into my schedule.” he lifts up the sandwich. “what about you?”

“uh, i ended up in the same course as well.” a hum of shock leaves changmin. “yeah,” you chuckle, “i managed to shift courses.”

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you.”

you smile at him. “thanks. now, i’m just—” you should tell him what you do. what would be a better time to reveal that you ended up in the path he dreamed for you to be than now? “—figuring things out.”

with your vagueness, changmin only nods before munching away. if there’s anything about you that still remains, it’s that you shouldn’t be pushed to share something you didn’t want to talk about. he still knew that.

as he finishes his sandwich, you tear off the plastic wrapping of your ice cream. with the twin bar in your hands, you snap it into two before you hand him a piece. confusion paints his features, wide eyes glossing over the popsicle in your hand, but he takes it before you can say anything.

“thanks.”

you shake your head. “don’t even worry about it. it’s only tradition.”

silence settles between you two. as you eat away on your share of the twin bar, you look up to the sky. from where you sit, you can’t see a single star; the lights of seoul seemed to outshine them. and during those moments, you almost can’t help but miss the view of the starry night from your childhood room.

you glance at changmin who looks up to the sky as well. yet, one hand remains in his pocket, almost as if he’s fiddling with something. 

as if he feels your eyes on him, he asks, “did you ever think about coming back?”

you halt your movements. if there’s one thing you were expecting your old friend to ask, it would be related to your sudden departure. but you’re hit with an entirely different question, one you didn’t get to rehearse the answer to in case you ever cross paths with him. 

because after all this talk about your yearning for cheongju, why didn’t you choose to visit? despite how much you long mr. kim’s home cooked meals, skies filled with stars, or the presence of your best friend, why didn’t you ever come back?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

and the reality is that you do think about it all the time. since you left cheongju, you drafted out how many plans to go back. you were homesick, missing the familiar landscape you spent your entire childhood growing up in. but most of all, you missed changmin. as long as you had him, you would survive anywhere, whether in seoul or cheongju.

despite how much you yearned for him during your years away, you learned that your relationship wasn’t always filled with the warmth that would grace you two every afternoon. for so long, you’ve sat with jealousy. while his family was his pillar of strength, you were met with a home that offered nothing but criticism.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

it became easier to remain resentful. with the distance, you weren’t faced with changmin’s genuineness. yet, with time, you discovered that you still cared for him—regardless of your jealousy—because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

for a long time, you resented. now, it’s only guilt that held you back from going back to him.

so when you remain silent, changmin takes it as your answer.

and for the first time, the distance feels greater since you first left cheongju.

summer of 2014

it’s the peak of summer. amidst the expanse of verdant fields, bees seek solace in the fully-bloomed sunflowers and kaleidoscope wings illuminate as they soar.

but summer is where mouths go dry and clothes cling to skin. as days blend with each other, the comfort of your bed is all you have until the season passes.

the fan rumbles against the wooden floor, doing its best to cool you, but the heat prickles against the back of your neck. the wind has turned into nothing but hot waves. with your elbows perched on the desk, a sigh leaves you as you attempt to make sense of the worksheet filled with math equations.

your room is your favorite place in cheongju. within these four walls are scattered fragments of you, from your favorite books and mangas that rest on the bookshelf to the stuffed toys that rest on your bed. book tabs stick out of your workbooks lined up on your desk and your cork board is filled with crossed out to-do lists.

and every once in a while, you would look out through your window, admiring the neighboring houses and all their greenery. as people walk on pavements, you cannot help but think about where they’re off to—are they on their way to work? did they leave an important document back home? or are they coming back to a meal and home filled with warmth?

despite the halo soundtrack filling your ears, the cogs in your brain seem to drown them out. the numbers on your paper have jumbled up. it should’ve been easy. after all, you’ve become friends with the letters who’ve squeezed their way into math. once you’ve wrapped up on this assignment, you know you’ll wake up to another set of work to do. it didn’t help that you’re stuck watching kids your age enjoy their break.

with a tired mind, you consider making yourself another cup of iced coffee. maybe another dose of caffeine will make sense of the numbers—

your phone buzzes against your table. as your eyes rip from the unfinished worksheet, you spot the familiar name flashing on the screen. with one glance at your door, you bring your headphones to rest around your neck. it takes three rings for you to answer.

“what do you want?”

“the fuck? what’s wrong with you?”

you roll your eyes as you fiddle with your pen. “i’m studying, you fucker.”

“on a sunday?” changmin’s question has you only groan. “what happened to resting?”

“i wish,” you murmur as you scratch the back of your head. “i’ve been stuck on this stupid worksheet for the past hours. it’s annoying too. i mean, i already know this topic, so i don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“awe, is my best friend suffering over kumon?”

your forehead rests on crossed arms. “yes. i think i’m going to die.”

“okay, then. i’ll take that as my sign.”

“sign to what?”

he chuckles as if it were obvious. “to save you! let’s go to mr. kim’s.”

a groan leaves you as your back meets the chair. “no, i can’t. do you know what would happen if i don’t finish my kumon?”

“uh… no?”

“me, neither. i’m not taking my chances.”

“but, you’re not even doing anything!” changmin pointing out the obvious has you rolling your eyes. “wouldn’t it be better to take a break with your best friend? i can even help out.”

as you bite the inside of your cheek, you glance once more at your closed door. you weigh it out; would you rather take a break with your best friend or would you save yourself from the consequences brought by home?

but the answer was already clear. “give me 10 minutes.”

changmin laughs before you drop the call.

it’s the smell of fresh hotteok that greets you. the quiet buzzing of the fan accompanied by mr. kim’s favorite trot music fills your ears. while the owner seems to be away from the cashier, a white, stray cat takes over, body flopped on the counter as it snores away the heat. as the sun pours through windows, coating every corner of the mart with a glow of fireflies, you know this will be a place of its own.

“y/n, over here!” a familiar voice calls out. as you whip your head to the source, you see your best friend by the chest freezer, eyes crinkled and all dimples.

now, you’re certain that nothing could ever replicate this.

you walk towards changmin, finding your spot beside him as you two look through the collection of frozen treats. “so, what do you want from here?” you ask.

“uh… i’ll be honest, i just realized i’m short on money.”

you glance through the price tags, only for a groan to leave you. “i’m short too. when did mr. kim raise the prices?”

“no clue. i thought i’d have enough to get a summer crush,” changmin complains as his eyes are glued to the coffee sorbet. “i hate inflation.”

“come on.” you fish out for the coins in your pocket. “let’s see how much we have together.” changmin does the same. with palms out, you two count through your shared funds.

“we can get a summer crush!”

“you can get one. i’ll be left with barely anything.” you look through the selection once more. “man, i really want samanco. the red bean sounds so good right now.”

defeat casts over changmin’s features. for a moment, you almost consider giving up on having a frozen treat and settling for a glass bottle of orange soda, until you spot a familiar popsicle brand.

“holy shit, it’s right there.”

“what?”

“there!” your finger points at the stack of twin bars. “we can probably get that and split it.”

changmin’s expression morphs into realization. “okay, let’s get—”

“dibs on grape.”

“dibs?” he furrows his eyebrows at you. “you can’t just call dibs. you’re doing it wrong. clearly, we should discuss—”

“nope,” you retort. a chuckle laced with disbelief leaves your best friend. to him, it seemed like you were joking around. “i made the suggestion and contributed a lot more to our shared funds.”

“okay, but—”

“don’t tell me you want the peach flavor more than the grape.” as you continue to shut him down, he knows there’s no way around you.

(plus, he wasn’t a fan of peach-flavored things, anyway. how unfortunate that mr. kim only has those two flavors right now.)

“next time, we’re choosing a flavor that i want,” he gives in. you let out a cheer before grabbing the frozen treat.

you two make your way back to the cashier and spot mr. kim slouched in front of the television, hand stroking the sleepy feline. he’s still wearing an old, red plaid apron on top of a pair of basketball shorts and a loose graphic tee which had the name of a band you’re unfamiliar with. with how he sits, you’re afraid that his back problems will get even worse. (still, you don’t say anything. he’ll only play it off and say he’s still one of the “youngins”... whatever that means.)

once his eyes land on you two, a grin takes over. “ah, my favorite kids! it’s nice to see you both.”

“yeah, it’s been a while,” changmin starts off. “y/n’s always busy with kumon.”

you narrow your eyes at the boy. “hey! you’re busy, too! you’ve been practicing at the studio almost every day!” the wrapped popsicle now rests on the counter. “every time i’m free, you’re not.”

“hey! whenever you’re free, i’m tired from training!”

“okay, let’s settle down,” mr. kim breaks up the banter. he then takes note of the ice cream on the cashier, the price showing up on the cashier. “isn’t the heat hard enough for you two to be studying or practicing?”

“yes, very much.” you count the coins once more before dropping the exact amount on the counter. “but,” you glance at changmin and his disheartened expression is enough for mountains to move, “i don’t think we have a choice.”

in reality, these were the circumstances you two had to work and live with. during the days changmin ended practice early, you were drowning in summer school assessments. whenever you managed to finish your homework, it would be during the hours your best friend was off at the studio or passed out at home from exhaustion.

“choice, no choice, people always say that.” mr. kim counts your payment before putting it into the cashier. as he takes note of what you’ve bought, he says, “everyone has a choice. i’m sure you two can figure it out.”

the only difference is that one chose this path; the other had to suffer from the decision forced onto them.

“don’t worry, mr. kim,” changmin nudges your shoulder. “i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” and when the dips in his cheeks appear, you find yourself smiling back.

maybe you were okay with the life you had to live, just maybe.

“anyway, we’ll go ahead,” changmin bids farewell to mr. kim.

you giggle. “he means we’re just going to eat our ice cream at the front.”

as you two slowly make your way out of the mart, mr. kim shakes his head. “you lovebirds go ahead. i’ll see you next time!”

“mr. kim!” you and changmin shout in unison before glancing at each other.

“what?!”

your best friend groans. “you know we aren’t together.”

“yeah! like, i can’t imagine it,” you join in.

still, the owner laughs at your reactions. “you two are so funny. just go and enjoy your ice cream.”

you roll your eyes at his words. “bye, mr. kim!”

with that, you and changmin were out of the mart and took a seat on the benches. you hand your best friend the wrapped frozen treat before letting out a sigh. “i still can’t believe this is one of the few times we got to meet up during the break.”

“i know.” he tears the plastic wrapping off. “you would think that summer break would mean we get to hang out nonstop, but i’m starting to think we saw each other more whenever we had school.”

you hum. “i know. and i had ap stat while you had training.” your eyes dart at changmin who grips onto the popsicle sticks, struggling to split it into two. “oh my god, don’t tell me you can’t split it.”

“hey! it’s hard.”

as you giggle, you reach your hand out. “let me do it.” once changmin hands you the twin bar, you attempt to split the two. for a moment, you almost think about agreeing with him. yet, the frozen treat splits into two perfectly, and a satisfied smile rests on your lips.

you hand him one popsicle, only to be met with his glare. “i know, i’m just better.”

“just shut up.” to that, another laugh leaves you.

under the sun, you enjoy the coolness of the twin bar. while you would’ve stared off to nowhere, you and changmin were here at the right time to catch civilians bustling away. some were on dates, where one would go on about their interest while the other would smile at their rambling. there were kids whose chatter could be heard all the way from the end of the block, and blue-collar men who were off to enjoy their break.

you can’t help but imagine what people saw—thought—of you and changmin. did they think of you as unexpected friends? has it ever crossed their minds that you two were only classmates who seemed to always be paired together? or did they ever think the same as mr. kim?

“you know,” changmin starts off, causing you to look at him, “i was going through college courses the other day.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “oh?”

with your reaction, changmin giggles. “i was just curious, you know? not that i’m giving up on dance or anything, but,” he licks the popsicle, “early childhood education sounds cool.”

you hum. “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“no, it’s not a bad thing!” you reassure the boy. “it’s just,” you rip your gaze off of changmin and look at the playground, “i always thought of you as a dancer, you know? kind of like you were meant for the stage.” the laughter of the kids who passed by you two bounces all over the block and you can’t help but smile. “but i don’t doubt it.”

the breeze graces your sweat-covered skin. “what about you?” you look back at him. “would you ever consider journalism? maybe communication as your major?”

you’re quick to laugh at his suggestion, but when confusion paints his features, you realize it’s a serious question from him.

“no.” it’s a straightforward answer from you, but changmin could never settle with that

“why not?”

a sigh leaves you. “i just don’t consider it. i mean, i think about it,” all the time, “but not enough to consider it. plus, astrophysics is cool.”

“but is it your dream?”

changmin’s question is an easy one to answer—not at all. you’ve had enough learning about theories and making sense of the numbers. if your future is going to only complicate that further, then maybe astrophysics isn’t made for you. 

but who’s to say that you’ll even enjoy journalism?

“we’ll see.” you leave it at that and changmin didn’t push for more.

because the reality is that if you ever did consider it, transform those dreams into action plans, you were terrified to be met with your parents’ disappointment—it wouldn’t only be from your lousy desires but from changmin’s role in your life.

the first time you mentioned changmin to your parents happened over dinner, letting them know you would be staying later at school to work on the final project for art class with him. they didn’t bat an eye at his name as they continued to talk about what happened during work and pester you about your progress in other classes. (art class didn’t matter to them, only the sciences and math were ones they seemed to track. still, they would criticize you if you didn’t place first honors.)

with your parents’ oversight, something blossomed between you and changmin. from there, there were more days you would get home later than usual. while you were still on top of your work, they took your late arrivals as a form of negligence.

all it took was one night for them to demand an explanation. the reappearance of him in the conversation had only caused them to reprimand you—changmin’s not like you. he’ll only hold you back. 

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

“how’s training?” you change the subject, trying to keep the attention off of your failed dreams to changmin’s flourishing ones.

“well, it’s a lot,” he chuckles as he munches a piece. “you already know that it takes how many hours to get to the company, and the hours i spend in the practice room are unlike the trainings i have at school.”

as his eyes meet yours, you only shoot him an apologetic smile. it was never going to be easy; you two knew that before changmin entered the doors of the company. yet, he still held on.

“you know, i never considered it before, but i like where i’m going,” he admits. “even if i’ve always had dreams to pursue dance, i want to make my family proud if i ever get to debut.” 

changmin knows how to persevere. regardless of all the bruises he gets from performing complex dance routines or the hours of sleep he longs for, he knows how to hold on. you wish you could say the same for yourself.

“and you will,” you reassure the boy, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “who wouldn’t be proud of you?”

he holds your stare and your smile falters. for a moment, you don’t know if you touched on a sensitive topic. would he shrug your arm off? do you think he’ll shut you off, maybe cut your time together short? will changmin get mad at you for something you didn’t know was wrong? would he be just like them?

“i want to make you proud.”

that’s enough to answer it all.

you shake your head. “don’t even doubt that for a second.” your arm finds it spot back to your side, and changmin’s loops his with yours.

although he knows how to persevere, he never knows when to shut his ears from the shadows. 

“i am proud of you,” you tell him. “always have, always will.” he can’t help but smile. all you can hope is that he’ll listen closely to your voice.

“i almost forgot,” he says out of nowhere.

“forgot what?”

as he tugs his arm away, his hand fishes for something in his pocket. “close your eyes.” you furrow your eyebrows. “just do it!” you follow his orders. “and keep them closed, okay?” you let out a hum.

before you know it, something wraps around your index finger. you would’ve opened your eyes, confused over the foreign yet familiar material, but they remain shut. 

“okay, open.”

your gaze rests on your finger wrapped in yellow and blue. it’s a finger trap—and the other end is connected to changmin. despite your tug, it still holds you two together.

it’s the warmth that fills your cheeks, the heartbeat in your ears, and your starstruck eyes that has him smile. “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? regardless of what paths we end up pursuing. all that matters is that we have each other.”

he’s filled with hope. hope for his dreams. hope for your relationship. hope for what the future holds for you two. you can’t help but hope as well.

all it takes is a nod from you to solidify the promise to the universe.

you two sit in silence, finishing up the popsicles as people continue to pass by. at one point, you heard mr. kim let out a curse over the drama he’s watching. the sun is about to set, wrapping you two in a golden blanket, and all that matters is the finger trap.

present  -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

it’s no surprise to you that the newsroom is quiet. while your peers are off to gather more information, you’re with lee chaeyeon of news as she tries to meet the deadline for her article’s first close.

“do you think dokyeom will be late?” you ask as you watch her rephrase sentences.

she laughs. “when is he never? minho’s always assigning him coverages.”

“that’s true.” your eyes drift to the hallway. “i’m just hungry. he still owes me food, you know?”

“over another bet? or you saving his ass?”

“over helping him with an article,” you reveal, earning a shocked look from her. “for some odd reason, he needed another writer to help out with a live coverage, and all the sports writers and sports editor were busy handling the other events.”

“holy shit.” chaeyeon continues with her work. “i didn’t expect you to work on anything sports-related.”

“yeah, but it helped that it was a dance competition. at least i know something about dance.” you only know who to thank. “i’m going to make sure i get compensated for that. i’m planning to raise it to minho and namjoon, anyway. that’s if dokyeom would fucking come and help in explaining the situation.”

with the mention of the tardy writer’s name, he’s scrambling through the halls with his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other. the moment he sees you, he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“speak of the devil,” you say as you stand up straight. “why do you always show up late? i helped you with the article.”

dokyeom finds his spot beside you as he sets down the bag on your desk. “i’ll have you know that wasn’t the only article i had yesterday. i was catching up on other ones that minho assigned me.” before he can plop down on his seat, he spots chaeyeon working. “damn, tough life at news.”

“no need to point out the obvious, doofus.”

“wow, harsh,” he replies to her insult. “just so you know, i bought food for us.”

“thank god,” you exclaim as you open the paper bag filled with takeout containers and sealed cups. as you pull them out one by one, you spot your usual order from the vietnamese restaurant around the corner. “oh my god, thank you for getting me this.” you take a seat before you pass dokyeom his food and utensils.

“yeah, i know. i’m just the best.” his shower of compliments for himself only has you rolling your eyes. “but thank you, by the way, for helping me out with the article. i needed an extra pair of hands and my own editor couldn’t stand in to help out.”

“it’s fine. just make sure you help me get compensated for that article,” you say before you open the container. as the smell of bun bo nam bo fills your nose, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “holy fuck, i’ve been craving this.”

“i made sure to get you some vietnamese coffee also.”

“yeah, i saw. thank you.” you split the chopsticks with one hand. you’re about to mix the bowl of your favorite food—

“is y/n here?” your editor calls out, causing you to let out a sigh before you stand up from your seat.

“yes?”

namjoon’s gaze lands on you. “can i talk to you for a bit?”

despite your grumbling stomach, you give him a nod and set your food down. as he retreats to his office, you glare at dokyeom who munches away on goi cuon. “i hate you.”

“hey, what did i do?!” you ignore his attempts to defend himself as you make your way to your editor’s office.

once you swing the door open, you spot namjoon whose eyes are stuck to the screen. “you can take a seat,” he says with no attempt to look at you. you sit across from him, hands folded on your lap, while he types away on his keyboard.

the moment he hits the ‘enter’ key is when he finally looks at you. “sorry about that. i was just replying to minho regarding your compensation for the article you worked with dokyeom. we both appreciate what you did. next time though, make sure to loop in minho or me before you two start working on beats not within your staffs.”

“sorry about that,” you start off. “dokyeom only asked for my help and i thought it would be fine since i’m familiar with dance, anyway.”

namjoon shakes his head with a small smile plastered on his face. “it is fine, just make sure to inform us.” you only nod.

“anyway, i’m sorry to have this meeting with you right now but i have to leave work early today, and i thought that you’d appreciate that i tell this to you now instead of tomorrow,” he says. you hum, curious about what he has to say. “i have a coverage for you, a very, very, long one.”

over the sight of your wide eyes, he can’t help but chuckle. “it’s 12 articles,” he says and your mouth gapes over the number. “well, one main article and 11 profiles with very brief introductory paragraphs.” his attempt to ease your shocked state does nothing.

“namjoon, that’s… a lot.”

“yes, i know. i would love to split the workload but everyone else is handling other articles, and i trust you. i know i’m asking for a lot but i’ll make sure to help you out with them. it’s just that we’re working on a time crunch and i don’t know anyone else i can ask but you.”

the faith that your editor seems to have in you is like no other.

“profiles, like, those q&a transcripts?” you ask.

he nods before saying, “yes, and just a brief introductory paragraph for each profile. i’m just expecting you to put more work into the article about the group. i’ll make sure to help out with the profiles.”

namjoon’s trust should be anxiety inducing, enough to send you complaining, but you find yourself relieved. your mentor became your second-in-command; the mountain of workload transformed into a hill.

“okay.”

a relaxed smile appears on his face at your acceptance. “thank god! i was going to stress about this the whole day if you refused. i’ll make sure to send you the details about this once i’m done with my appointments, and then we can see how we’ll divide the work later on.” he types something. “we’re covering a k-pop group which is why there’s one main article about the whole group and then 11 profiles.”

“yeah, i figured that out.” this isn’t anything out of your usual articles. “can i ask who we’re interviewing? maybe i can do some research on them while you attend your meetings.” you pull out your phone, ready to search up whoever your editor says.

“don’t know if you’re familiar with them but they’re called the boyz?” you still in your seat. “wait, let me check. yes, that’s their name.”

“the boyz?”

namjoon looks at you, now met with your features that have transformed from wide eyes to scrunched eyebrows.  “yeah. do you know them?” 

you shake your head without a second thought. “no, i don’t think i do,” you whisper the last sentence to yourself. his narrow eyes look over you, almost dissecting you.

the walls surrounding you are painted in solid colors of pearl, almost untouched. yet, under the paint are cracks that spread like cobwebs. every burst is a testament to the earthquakes they’ve faced; no one should be able to see a single line of black amid the white sea. now, they’re filled with paste, and it should be enough to cover them all.

but for the first time, the paint has chipped and the paste has deteriorated; the different colors of cheongju seep through the cracks.

you clear your throat as you straighten your back. “i’ll be sure to research them.” you wave your phone at him, hoping to divert his attention, but his gaze remains on you.

a sigh leaves him. “okay. expect to receive the documents later in the afternoon.”

he doesn’t push any further. for now, the walls remain intact. (or appear as so.)

it was never going to be easy.

“honestly, i gave up expecting to win as we practiced,” the youngest says through tears. as they huddle, they let out silent wishes for the upcoming years. before they blow the candle, they don’t forget to express their gratitude to the fandom who stuck with them through thick and thin.

a time of celebration turned into a moment to remember their struggles. these were pockets of their time that marked their spot in history.

“oh, everyone behind us is crying!” another member points out as the camera captures the team’s bittersweet cries.

and when you catch sight of the orange-haired boy who hides his tears behind his friend, the ache in your chest starts to spread through your veins. the video cuts to his low-hanging head as his members comfort him. they knew all of his hardships—you only know a fraction.

such a tender moment happened five years ago; it’s the same amount of time between this achievement and your departure. within those years, what did changmin undergo? did his trainings waver his passion or did the fire burn just as bright as it did since he first auditioned? was he confident in his skills or was he still critical about every performance he had?

but most of all, what did he face? what did he learn? to hate? to love?

what did he go through without you?

you don’t forget to take note of their first win on your document filled with bullet points of information. while you were going to continue watching, a recommended video caught your attention. it’s a changmin focus. you don’t hesitate to click it.

the video starts off with him checking up on the fans before the performance starts. as he mimes out eating, they answer his question with reassurance.

and there they come—his dimples appear.

it transitions to their group in their opening formation. as they await for the song to play out, changmin’s familiar smile shifts into a dominant gaze.

in the same way the first notes draw people to listen, your eyes never leave the boy. his movements are fluid, like water droplets sliding off leaves. he commands the stage regardless of where he’s positioned.

changmin is meant to be on the stage—no, every stage is made for him. every crowd is meant to cheer his name and remain captive to his talents, and every spotlight is meant to shine on him.

you rest your chin on crossed arms. long gone was the bowl cut and loose school uniform. he’s grown. matured, even. yet, the moments where his smile appears makes you realize one thing: the 16-year-old boy you knew still lives within him.

as their performance comes to an end, you don’t bother to move your cursor, letting the next recommended video play. and when his vlog plays out, you realize that a fragment of his identity is a whole of what you know.

what an honor it is to have known him for even a fraction of your lifetime.

his voice is a lullaby, the same one you used to fall asleep to, so you allow yourself to close your eyes. you let go of the responsibilities for just this moment, and allow yourself to be transported back into the warmth of his arms.

fall of 2014

out of all the seasons, autumn took its spot in being your favorite. clusters of green slowly morph  into shades of oranges and browns. it’s a symphony of chirps that fills the silence. while the breeze brings you comfort after the heat of summer, it also reminds you of the looming winter.

it’s a shame that autumn does live up to its other name: a season of fall.

“you’re always like this,” your mother comments. you stand in front of your parents, slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, as they hold a sheet of paper they believe dictates your future. “always so sensitive. we’re just asking you what went different. why did your grades drop?” to them, a shift from a to b+ is a threat to your future. 

while your feet stand on wooden floors, a flood starts to form. murky waves crash against your legs, but you do your best to keep your balance.

“answer us when you’re being talked to.” your father snaps you out of your thoughts. “what have you been doing for your grades to drop?” you want to answer but a single sound that leaves you may only lead to blubbers that your parents will scold you for. 

with your silence, your mother sneers. “i knew we shouldn’t have let you do your own things. i told you so.” she shifts her gaze to him. “what did i tell you about y/n? you know they’ll only slack off!”

“i thought we could trust them. clearly, i was wrong.” your father’s glare raises the water levels, reaching your chest. you don’t know how to swim in the foggy ocean.

“i know why.” she crosses her arms. “it’s because of that changmin boy, isn’t it?” she says his name laced with disgust.

you don’t think twice to defend him. “no, it isn’t!”

“don’t you dare talk back at me!”

“but i’m not! he’s done nothing.”

your father begins to raise his voice. “and that’s what’s wrong! that lazy boy does nothing for his studies. he clearly doesn’t care about his future.”

you always knew it would be a losing battle, but you’ll put up the fight to protect your best friend’s name. “that’s not true! he does care. he’s planning to do early childhood education for college, maybe become a teacher.”

“that job has no money. see, i can already see that you’re being influenced by him,” he argues back.

and as the murky waters rise, filling your lungs, your first instinct is to close your eyes and scream. “stop saying that about him!”

a beat passes.

“i don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“but—”

“shut up.” your mother’s words cause you to look up, meeting your parents’ faces filled with anger.  “go to your room. now.” you’re nothing but a puppet for them.

was it even a battle if you always knew you were going to lose?

despite the safety of your room, you don’t let the tears flow down. you do anything to distract yourself; maybe a book will convince you that your life is only a figment of your imagination.

waves continue to crash against your body. if you let them take your body, would they send you far away from cheongju? from your parents? from the weight you were entrusted to carry since birth?

but would you allow the waves to send you away from changmin?

your phone buzzes against the mattress. with tear-filled eyes, you see your best friend trying to reach you. you don’t think twice about declining his call and shutting off your phone.

as you curl in your bed, you hope the sea will swallow you whole—the slow, burning pain that comes with drowning won’t compare to the burns that haven’t healed. but you know that the blame rests on your shoulders. if only you had studied harder, cut off hours of rest for your work, then maybe you would be the perfect child your parents wanted.

were you wrong for allowing yourself to enjoy the small breaks between classes? was the time spent in the mart supposed to be for schoolwork? should you have found yourself a tutor? were you in the wrong for not working yourself to the bone? did you not work enough?

are you not enough?

then, a knock. your eyes snap open. like a stroke of light in the middle of the dark, changmin is by your window.

you get off your bed to open the window. as the glass barrier disappears, he enters your room. “are you okay?” he spots your glassy eyes and his hands find their spot on your shoulders. “what happened?”

you break eye contact. “what do you want, changmin?”

“you didn’t pick up your phone. and when i tried calling again, i couldn’t reach you,” he starts to explain.

you shrug off his grip on you before you take a seat on your bed. “i’m fine. my phone died.” as you feel the spot beside you dip, you look at your best friend. at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, you know he doesn’t believe you. “i said i’m fine.”

“i didn’t say anything.” for you are an open book to him.

he opens his arms towards you—it’s your move to make. then, a tight-lipped smile shows on his face, his dimples appear, and you allow yourself to fall. with his arms wrapped around you, you shut your eyes as you nestle your face into his neck.

breathe in. breathe out.

his hand finds its spot on your back, rubbing it in circles.

breathe in. breathe out.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” he says, and you allow yourself to crumble in front of him for the first time.

the tears hit changmin’s neck like a light drizzle. your wails bring earthquakes into his world.

yet, his warmth is enough to dry up droplets, and his embrace protects you as you fall into the cracks of the earth and into the depths of the world. the flood starts to subside.

in your time knowing changmin, how much did he know about you after all? had he always known of your strained relationship with your parents? did he hear about it from others or was he able to connect the dots?

because you didn’t know yourself outside of your parents anymore. did you like science because of your kumon classes? was your interest in writing birthed from a desire for validation from your parents?

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

but your parents will never be satisfied; a standard too high is practically nonexistent.

changmin moves so that you two can lie down. his arms remain wrapped around you as you hide in his neck. “i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you when you needed it then.” his whispered apology causes you to shake your head.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you blubber out to his neck.

“and you didn’t, as well.” his hand finds its spot behind your head. with every stroke, a tear streams down. “and i want you to know that i’ll be here for you.”

in your house, your room was the only space you called home. solace built by you. 

now, your home is changmin.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

something about the newsroom feels odd to you. there’s nothing out of the ordinary aside from it bustling with journalists. the familiar sounds of printers and chatter from your workmates fill your ears. it’s a typical occurrence for your peers to meet their deadlines on the day itself. the tug in your gut doesn’t resemble ones formed out of your anxiety. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“where is dokyeom? i swear, this guy never shows up to the office.”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at chaeyeon who browses through her phone. as you shove a bill into the vending machine, a chuckle leaves you. “when is he never?”

“maybe if he finishes his coverages on time then he’d be getting enough sleep. then, he won’t be late.”

you side-eye your friend before you click on a button. “you know that’s not true.”

she sighs at the same time your bottle of iced tea drops. “yeah. apparently, if you have free time, you’re not a good journalist or some shit which i find stupid.” you grab your drink before facing her. “am i not allowed to do something else that’s not related to my job? i swear, this is why i’m single.”

“then date another journalist.” your joke earns a scowl from her.

“i’m never dating anyone in my field. a journalist dating another journalist is like,” she looks up to the ceiling as she thinks, “a long distance relationship with how much they’ll never see or have time for each other.”

a laugh erupts from you, one that may be too loud for your liking. “true.”

as you walk out of the breakroom with chaeyeon, you notice something in the corner of your eye: a brunette by the restroom. while you can’t see his face, you spot what’s in his hand and you halt in your tracks—a finger trap.

“hey, is there someone there?” your eyes snap back to your friend who looks at you in confusion. when your eyes drift back to where the brunette once was, he’s already gone. you shake your head before walking back to your desk.

the same gut feeling lingers. with a frown, you open up your article only to be met with a few comments that namjoon left last night. maybe your gut knew that you weren’t done with your work. thankfully, it’s nothing too major, and you can have them done within the next few minutes.

“there you are!” chaeyeon exclaims, causing you to look up from your screen to a panting dokyeom. “were you working on your articles again?”

“actually, i went out last night.” while you shake your head at dokyeom’s reveal, chaeyeon gasps. “yeah, i did! i actually had fun for once!”

as he nods proudly at last night’s events, she complains, “are you serious?! how come you have time to go out? i was just talking to y/n that we never have time to ourselves.”

“i’m in sports,” he points out as he shrugs his shoulders. “you’re in news.” at this point, you’re expecting the two to spiral into an argument, so you redirect your focus back to your article.

“hey, did you hear though? there’s a k-pop group in the building.” you glance at chaeyeon.

your other friend leans on the cubicle. “really? who?”

“no clue.”

dokyeom lets out a groan. “what type of journalist are you if you can’t find out?”

“yah!” chaeyeon smacks his arm, causing him to wince in pain. “says you who can never submit on time.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that minho has been understanding!”

“whatever.” she rolls her eyes before looking at you. “that means you’ll probably be handling them. i hope they’re cute so that you can finally have something going on with your life outside of work.”

a chuckle leaves you as you get back to work. “i’m never dating an idol. i’d get hunted down by their fans.” 

“yeah, but can’t you dream a little? do you ever imagine what it would be like?”

the past plays in your mind. after school performances and interviews. broken-up popsicles. finger traps. a life you shared with changmin then—one you still cling onto.

yet, you shake your head as you edit your article. “not even.”

it’s a life you’ll keep to yourself.

“what’s the update?”

the three of you look away from each other, spotting namjoon who comes to you with a smile. long gone were the sweaters that failed to drown out his figure and the boxy glasses that would rest on the bridge of his nose. now, he wears a dress shirt and trousers with hair slicked to the side. there were no frames for him to hide behind.

“ah, namjoon! you’re dressed so nice today.”

with dokyeom’s compliment, he can’t hold back on his smile. “thank you. are you guys done with your articles?”

as your friends nod, you add the finishing touches to the document. “and done! i just finished addressing your comments.”

“great. thanks, y/n.”

“do you have something?” chaeyeon asks your editor, causing you to roll your eyes. one thing about journalists is that they love to know everything.

namjoon nods before saying, “i just had a meeting with some possible interviewees.”

“is this the one with the k-pop group?” as dokyeom asks the question, you can’t help but laugh as chaeyeon looks at him in disbelief for spilling confidential information.

your editor chuckles. “yes.”

“can we know—”

“no, you can’t know.”

chaeyeon pouts at namjoon. “not even a hint?”

namjoon ignores her question and begins to walk off. “good work, y/n!” he calls out before leaving you three alone.

“man, namjoon never tells us shit,” chaeyeon complains as she leans on the table.

“to you guys, at least,” you argue with a small shrug.

still, the gut feeling remains.

something about the newsroom feels odd to changmin. while he’s had his fair share of paranormal experiences, his gut tells him that there’s something in the office. yet, the tug isn’t one that speaks of danger. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” changmin is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

sangyeon shoots namjoon a smile before looking at his members. “you guys can use the washroom if you need to.”

although everyone seemed fine with proceeding, changmin couldn’t shake off the feeling. maybe the leftover curry he had this morning went bad. “i’ll go,” he says as he gets off his seat.

namjoon slowly stands up. “okay, i can bring you there—”

“it’s okay! i saw the washroom on the way here,” changmin says before walking to the door. “you can discuss the details without me. i’m sure you guys will manage.”

with sangyeon’s and his manager’s nods, namjoon settles back into his seat. “okay then, here are some of the dates i have in mind...”

changmin exits the room. he bites on the inside of the cheek as he thinks of what his gut could be telling him. is it the nerves for the upcoming tour? is he worried about the next comeback they’ve been preparing? or is he scared about what the future has in store for his group?

with his mind on these questions, he doesn’t realize that he arrives in front of the bathroom door. a sigh of frustration leaves him. the worst thing about gut feelings is never knowing what they’re trying to say.

he grips the handle, ready to swing the door open, until a familiar laugh hits his ears. one of the past. one he hasn’t heard in years. his muscles freeze.

when was the last time he heard that chortle? when was the last time he became the cause of it?

his eyes dart around the area for the source but no one else is here. he can’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

it should be stupid for him to think you two would ever reunite. in what world would you be in the same place as he is? it’s been 10 years. you could be anywhere around the world. yet, he fishes for something out of his pocket; the same finger trap he linked you to him rests on the palm of his hand.

he sighs before entering the washroom and shoving it back into his pocket.

maybe he’ll hold out a little longer.

winter of 2014

out of all the seasons, changmin’s favorite is winter. snowflakes fall, filling the sky with stars that people can touch, and snow piles on sidewalks, letting him throw snowballs at his friends. despite the freezing temperatures, changmin prefers this over nearly-boiling ones.

he can’t wait to share this season with you.

yet, the familiar, chilly breeze of the season transforms into whispers, and word gets around like thrown snowballs. 

“is y/n really not going to school anymore?” changmin looks up from his desk to see cheng xiao standing in front of him. he tilts his head in confusion, causing her to roll her eyes. “are they not going here anymore?”

he frowns. “huh? what kind of rumor is that?”

“i don’t know. it’s what people have been saying,” she says as she crosses her arms. “i asked because i wanted to know if my competition’s gone, you know? and you’re the only one here who has an idea about their whereabouts.”

changmin laughs in disbelief. “no, i was with them last week.”

when changmin last saw you, you asked for space. with what’s been happening with your family, you needed time to process and cope with your issues, and he respected that. after all, he only knew a fraction of your relationship with your parents, and he didn’t want to intrude in anything you didn’t want him to be a part of. still, changmin reminded you that he’ll be there if you need him.

“damn, that sucks,” cheng xiao groans as her shoulders slump. “these stupid rumors.” as soon as she leaves changmin alone, he shakes his head.

the bell rings. students start rushing into classrooms and teachers scold those who aren’t on their seats. ms. jeon enters the room, walking to the desk in front and setting her things down. “cheng xiao, you’ll be in charge of attendance today.”

as changmin’s classmate gets off her seat, he can’t help but look at your desk that still remains empty.

“you have to message us when you land,” your mother says as she fixes the collar of your coat. despite your nod, she clicks her tongue. “answer me properly.”

“yes, i will.”

once your father finishes placing the last luggage in the trunk of the taxi, he stands beside your mother. “don’t forget why we’re sending you there. we expect you to do better with no distractions.”

your phone buzzes in your hand. as you look down, you see a message from changmin. as he asks about your whereabouts, the weight gets heavier—will you stand or crumble under it?

“who’s that?”

you stash your phone away as you look back at your parents. “nothing. it’s just an email from the school. they sent over the date for the orientation.” at the sight of their satisfied smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“well, go on.” your nod at your mother before getting in the car. with the windows still down, she adds, “don’t forget to get endorsement letters from the professors i sent over to you or else you won’t get to study abroad like we planned.” her choice of pronouns is funny; a plan that they crafted which never considered your input.

“okay.”

as your father commands the driver to go, your gaze remains on the two. it should be okay with you to leave cheongju; you’d be far away from your parents and experience an entirely different landscape to explore. it’s time you break away from the chains of this town. learn a life outside of what your parents forced you into.

yet, as the car takes its leave, the figure of your parents slowly shrinks. the distance from them should’ve given you the space to breathe, a relief you’ve longed for, but it only reminds you of your strained relationship. to them, it would be better that you’re out of their sight—and with your farewell, you never heard the three-word phrase.

the window rolls up. you try to hold back the tears, but the scenery of cheongju that you pass by births a storm within you. you didn’t want to say goodbye to home, regardless of how much you say you didn’t have a home in this town. every corner holds a piece of you in the same way you hold a piece of them.

the car approaches a safe haven you share. despite the snow that piles at the front, mr. kim’s convenience store is still open. you’ll never get to have his hotteok again or hear his favorite dramas play in the background. worst of all, you never got to say goodbye.

then, the familiar figure of your best friend exits the mart, and the storm transforms into a typhoon. the plastic bag he holds is filled with your favorite snacks, from the grape-flavored twin bar to a bottle of mr. kim’s homemade peach iced tea.

and in that moment that your car passes him, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you spot the familiar trap wrapped around his finger—the other end holds no one.

as quickly as you came into changmin’s life, he disappears from your view.

finger traps were fascinating. if you tug hard, the contraption won’t let your fingers go. yet, if you allow the two fingers to meet, allowing the toy to loosen, it’ll let you go with no harm.

but your finger trap with changmin was different. maybe it was already ripped to its seams.

interview

q: what made you decide on becoming an idol?

a: i’ve always loved dancing. growing up in cheongju, i always made time [for dance] whether it be [for] school competitions, talent shows, or even [choreographies] i wanted to try out. but i never considered becoming [an idol] until high school. a lot of my friends and family thought i was capable, and i’m glad they trusted me. it feels good to give back to them with every performance.

q: as the first trainee meant to debut in the boyz, you’ve spent more time training compared to your other members. what kept you going throughout your years of training?

a: my family’s support was one big thing that helped me [during my training.] every trip from my house to the company would last hours, and it drained me physically. so as the years went by, i started to question if all the time, money, [and] effort i was putting into an unpromised debut would be worth it, but my parents and sisters were always there to support and [take] care of me. but i’d also like to think my best friend was a major support in training years. i think they were the first one to [tell me that they saw me as an idol,] and at the time i brushed off the idea. but, look where i am now? so i think i owe a lot to them.

q: is there anything you’d like to say to those who’ve supported you as the boyz’s q?

a: mom and dad, thank you for believing in me. i know it wasn’t easy to wait until midnight for me to come home or take care of me whenever i got sick from training. thank you for always supporting me in every performance. to my sisters, thank you for helping mom and dad out at home. every day, i remind myself that you gave up so much just so i can pursue my dreams, and i want you know that i’m forever grateful for your sacrifices. to the rest of [the boyz], thank you for always allowing me to rely on you. i’m glad i can say i have brothers who i get to achieve my dreams with. deobi, thank you for your love and support over the years. i wouldn’t be the boyz’s q or ji changmin if it weren’t for you. and lastly, thank you to my best friend. i hope you’ll always be proud of me the same way i’ll forever be proud of you.

tag list: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @dearly-somber

[absolutebl]

47 BLs Announced for 2024

Here are the BLs I have logged on the Spreadsheet of Doom (TM) as announced for 2024 (with supporting evidence, so not just options or acquisitions) as of the beginning of the year. Bold are the ones I'm most intrigued by .

JAPAN

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

From YTV releasing 1/11 about Soga, who, after a divorce and relocation to Osaka, seeks solace in dining at 26-year-old Sakae's restaurant. Unbeknownst to Soga, Sakae sees him as more than just a regular customer.

Ossan's Love Season 2

Five years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan, so probubly not. More here.

Perfect Propose

Fuji TV (the Pornographer series) adapting Mayo Tsurakame’s manga, production team includes Tadaaki Horai (My Love Mix-Up!) and Takeshi Miyamoto (scriptwriter for “Old Fashion Cupcake”). Hiro’s so stressed at work he barely has time to eat so he passes out on the sidewalk. An unfamiliar face saves him and insists that they once promised to marry each other.

KOREA

Love For Love's Sake

Based on the Manhwa Love Supremacy Zone by Hwacha, this will star actors Lee Tae Vin, Cha Jun Wan, Oh Min Su and Cha Woon Ki. The plot of the drama is based on Tae Myung Ha, a young man who is dropped into a game based off of a novel that he knows. His mission is to make another player, Cha Yeo Woon happy. Cha Yeo Woon is Myung-Has favourite character in the novel. But then the game starts going completely different from the novel.

Love in the Big City

Movie adaptation of Booker nominated famous coming of age novel ‘Love in The Big City’ by Park Sang-Young. A cynical yet fun loving student writer name Young pinballs from home, to class, to Tinder matches. He and Jaehee, his female best friend and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and Marlboros. But as time passes Jaehee settles down and leaves Young to face his problems on his own, finding comfort in the arms of the series of men, including one whose handsomeness is matched by his coldness and another who might be the great love of his life. Not really BL. To star Kim Go-eun (The King: Eternal Monarch), Noh Sang-hyun (aka Steve Sanghyun as Young) and Nam Yoon Su (The King’s Affection). More here.

TAIWAN

Anti Reset AKA Anti-Reset AKA Antireset

From Vidol to air on 2/2/2024 about a human and robot find love.

THAILAND

1000 Years Old

From Feel Good Bangkok this is one of many gay vampire BLs coming in 2024. Stars Shane (My Engineer) and fresh face Opal, directed by Champ (2gether). More here.

A Secretly Love

Khonprot, a third-year head hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through many girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks things may be different.

Addicted Heroin (Thai version)

From the producers of Love Stage!!

Bad Guy My Boss

Assistant to a player boss who is in love with his boss decides to quit to save himself. The boos then makes a move. (A gay "What's up with Secretary Kim"?)

Born to be Y

announced 9/23

City of Stars AKA Fueangnakorn

Star Hunter started filming this 12/23 about an actor falls in love with a programmer and the narrative intends to “explore the ramifications of being public figure in the social network era who must endure critics, bullying, and defamation.” Looks like another Lovely Writer, Call It What You Want sort of thing.

Four Ever You Project AKA Fourever You Project

Sampler pack BL series from Wabi Sabi stars Bas (Gen Y), Earth (UWMA, 12%). Four stories, four couples, all adapted under the Fourever You Project.

I Saw You in My Dream

DeeHupHouse for WeTV based on the novel of the same name by Afterday. The story portrays Aya, a young man who has prophetic dreams. Everything he dreams always comes true. He doesn’t have a problem with it until he starts to dream of dating the guy next door. But the guy next door is in a serious relationship with a girl he’s known since high school.

Iridescent Love

Got nothing.

Harikarn Solution (the Chains of Heart people - boo) stars Gun (Khom in Unforgotten Night) opposite fresh face but cast includes familiar faces from other pulps. Ordinary office worker kinda recluse dork but who at night however, has an only fans account. Then he meets the guy next door.

Jack & Joker (YinWar)

DeHup brings us be gay, do crimes. Yin, War, Mark and a few other familiar faces doing Leverage but gayer. Yes, thank you, I will have that.

Kidnap

GMMTV Ohm Pawat is back but there is some question over whether this is BL or not.

Knock-Knock Boys

Kongthup for WeTV airing 4/2024 Four college friends who conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. stars Seng Wichai, Best Vittswin, Nokia Chinnawat and Jaonine Jiraphat.

Lost On The River

Another Sammon story

Love Sea (FortPeat)

MAME warning, stars same couple as LITA2, but new characters to the Mameverse. While travelling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man.

Love Sick AKA Lovesick remake

Remake of the original. No thank you.

Love Upon a Time (NetJames)

Domundi announced for 6/7/2023 then delayed to 2024. NetJames in a historical BL! Also feat Tonnam(Dr Sing from Triage).

Lovely Addict

9NAA brings us a hotel set, high heat, features same pair as Venus In Sky.

Lover Merman

Fantasy BL about a man who falls in love with a merman.

Me and Who

Domundi for WeTV brings this adaptation of Wickedwish’s novel of the same name. it depicts a young man who dies and is reborn into the body of a billionaire heir. The heir happens to be engaged to a handsome man.

Monster Next Door

WeTV Adapted from the novel Godzilla Next Door by Jiwinil. It portrays an introvert who lives mostly in his room, until an extrovert moves in next door. He is loud, frantic and annoying. Do opposites really attract? Will they find a way to get along?

My Golden Blood

GMMTV. Okay, I do find Joss very watchable but this looks very bad and also very like Kissable Lips. But at least land is finally giving us the trashy gay vampires we richly deserve?

My Love Mix-Up Thai Remake (GemniForth)

GMMTV. Hum, well I do love this pair and I did like the original and maybe this time these characters will actually kiss? I'm actually fine with this pick-up. I kind of enjoy seeing different countries remake the same IP. Especially if it's IP I'm mostly unfazed by.

My Stand-In AKA My Stand In

Chinese IP ALERT! Adapted from the novel Professional Body Double (职业替身) by Shui Qiang Cheng (水千丞) stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please).

OMG Vampire AKA OMG! Vampire (LeeFrank)

Frank and Lee Long Shi are back only vampires now. So many vampires.

Only Boo!

New main pair in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks, grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, to become an idol baby boy can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

Ossan‘s Love Thai Remake (EarthMix

Ugh, why?!?!

Red Peafowl

More Thai mafia stuffs.

Spare Me Your Mercy

Increased rates of deaths in terminal patients has a police captain investigating the palliative care doctor with whom he's fallen in love. Their relationship deepens but the mystery persists, driven by mistrust. Adapted from the novel Euthanasia by Sammon (Triage, Manner of Death) stars some old guard BL actors: Tor Thanapob from Hormones as the doctor and (fuck me YES) Jaylerr from Great Men Academy and goddamn Grean Fictions as the captain!

Spirit Reborn AKA Kemjira Will Survive

Star Hunter (of all studios) adapting supposedly the scariest BL. Khem is born cursed. A daughter would be safe but a son dies at 20 so Khem’s mother cleverly gives him a girl’s name, Khemjira “forever safe.” But Knem is baout to turn 20 and he doesn't think it's working so he seeks the help of a cursebreaker, turns out to be his great love from a prvious life.

Star Scope

Wabi Sabi trailer here. Looks sad, one of them is terminally ill, abandons his bf in high school them meet again in uni.

The Boy Next World (BossNoeul)

Same couple as LITA, this is the backstory of Cirrus & Phugun from TharnType 2 played by different actors.

The Hell Guards AKA Hey Don't Mess With My Heart

Boy wakes up from a coma and becomes a messenger between grim reapers and the underworld. Oh will it be... bureaucratic? I think it WILL.

The Hidden Moon

Casting happened 9/23. This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) ‘เดือนพราง’ by Violet Rain. A Bangkok writer is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai which is being converted into a café. He gets into an accident and nearly dies on his way there. After that, he sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, one boy catches his attention. Stars Benjamin Brasier (2 Moons 2) and Folk Touch Inthirat from Brothers. Trailer here.

The Next Prince (ZeeNew)

Domundi brings us more ZeeNew in a fantasy/historical set in a palace where Zee plays a knight and Nu a prince - FUCK YES PLEASE. I did not expect this pair to stick so I really hope this happens. Trailer here.

The Rebound (MeenPing)

VIU Basketball based romance staring Meen (a national basketball player, so yay for that).

The Trainee (OffGun)

GMMTV Office set, may not be BL. Trailer here.

Time the series

MFlow Entertainment for Gaga, WeTV, Channel 3 trailer here. Airs 1/9 After witnessing the death of his beloved Chris from a gunshot wound, the heartbroken actor Foam is given a pocket watch that allows him to go back in time and discover the truth… Can Foam take the chance to set things right and bring Chris back from the brink of death? Only time will tell…

To Be Continued

High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite when both of them have full times jobs but coming out is still a problem. Trailer here.

Vampire Project (BounPrem)

Wabi Sabi's My Broccoli only now... vampires.

Wandee Godday

GMMTV and AllThis Entertainment producing a very pulp offering for GMMTV with new pair GreatInn doing high heat Boxer meets surgeon. It features a one night stand, fake relationship, and all the cheesiest of tropes. Also features Drake, Podd, and Thor+ pretty boy (be still my heart). This is totally my kind of BL even if it actually isn't GMMTV's style of BL, so I'm intrigued. Trailer here.

We Are (PondPhuwin)

GMMTV's university friendship Bl featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawin - basically ALL in the good kind of messy friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is gay. I'm IN! Trailer here.

A reminder we had c. 136 BLs release in 2023 but c. 55 that did not get made.

That seems about right.

Of those announced we seem to get about 2/3 actually released for the year we are told they'll release in.

(source)

[ghost-proofbaby]

Hi Ghost! Mega congrats on 3k!! 🥳can i get a filthy martini with eddie munson? Maybe with some sneaking around fun? Thankyou!!

thank you so much!! ngl, i'm very proud of this one. i definitely got carried away, but i swear the smut is there, somewhere amongst the 3k+ words!!! this is really just one long love letter to eddie munson. hope i did your idea justice! also got heavily inspired by taylor swift's song "cruel summer", but what's new?

come party with me!

summertime and stardust (eddie munson x fem!reader)

warnings: smut, p in v, raw dog heathen prevails (aka unprotected sex). also a lot of references to mythology. my bad. i think i got too much prose all over my smut. oops.

Hawkins was always boring in the summer, and maybe that’s how the two of you ended up in this predicament. It was a sweltering wasteland of quarries that had started drying up long before July even arrived, and twenty four hour diners that were occupied with waitresses that made it very clear that they were sick of seeing yours and Eddie’s faces before even a week of freedom. Half of the usual hangout spots the two of you had considered hidden gems were quickly overrun by the middle-schoolers and freshmen that now had nothing but time on their hands (Eddie had taken the loss of the Arcade badly). So it was no surprise that you two ended up here, at the shore of Lover’s Lake, side by side on a blanket that Eddie had kept in the back of his van. 

“Which one is that one?” you ask, lifting a finger to trace out a constellation winking down at the two of you. 

“Orion,” Eddie immediately answers, hardly having to squint to make out the stars as you were, “Want to hear the story behind that one?”

“Is that even a question?” 

This is how the two of you had spent the last hour. On your backs, gazing at the stars, exchanging stories and theories that did not belong to either of you. Tales of Greek Gods and Goddesses, smartass remarks and make-believe when one of you couldn’t identify the constellation. There’s nothing else but you, Eddie, and the cicadas this far out of town. A buzz of relief and tranquility to bask in. Every so often, you could make out the lake water lapping at the shore not far from where both your feet rest, Eddie’s stretching past the blanket. 

It was nice. Every night you had spent out here had been very nice.

You turn on your side to listen to Eddie ramble about Orion, somehow both eloquent but still unfairly funny in his side comments of his opinion on the tale. He makes it very clear that he finds Orion to be deserving of losing his sight - “Seriously, fuck that dude!” - and you can only watch on, entranced by the boy and his starry eyes. 

“I think the version where Artemis murked his ass is pretty good, but I also like the idea behind Gaia sending a Scorpion to kill him, because then they’re opposing constellations and sh- Are you even listening to me?” Eddie pauses when you bring a hand up to his chest, fingertips dancing over the damp cotton of his t-shirt. 

You can’t hide the small smile tilting your lips as you nod, biting back giggles, “Oh, absolutely.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, arms crooked up to rest behind his head, biceps straining against the worn sleeves of his t-shirt. You resist the urge to just bury yourself into him, curl against his side and press, press, press until the two of you conjoin, never to separate again. 

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he lowly chuckles, eyes looking back up to the sky as your fingers begin to trace patterns higher, now skimming his barely-exposed collarbones. 

This is how it usually goes. He’s watching the sky, you’re watching him. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the change. 

Everyone in town knew that the two of you are friends; it’s not a secret. You’d met in school, partnered for a chemistry lab, and the rest was history. Everyone knew that you were the first person Eddie showed every new Corroded Coffin song to, and everyone knew Eddie was the last person you spoke to at the end of every day. And surely, they had to know to some extent, that you both reserved your summer nights for each other. 

The change is what they didn’t know. 

Steve and Robin would tease you two when you’d come into Family Video, a new thriller or horror movie always in hand at the checkout. Dustin would make gagging noises when Eddie would dramatically bid you farewell before Hellfire Club would commence, making endless jokes about his wife returning from war, how lonesome he would be now as you walked through the door and out of his sights for the next several hours. Even Mike, even Max, even Joyce, had made off-handed comments about your attachment to each other. 

But they were all always joking. They never saw any purchase in their words, their relentless teasing never serious because they couldn’t fathom a world where those jokes were actually correct. 

They could never fathom the nights you and Eddie would end up cuddling each other while studying, pressed together too tightly to leave space for friendly speculation. They could never fathom the way Eddie would drag you into the darkest corners of the arcade, his hands tight on your hips and your breath brushing his cheek as he nuzzled his way against your neck, teeth and lips alike nipping at you in desperation until you caved and gave him a chaste kiss. They could never fathom the way Eddie had been holding you to him by the end of these nights spent by the lake, pressing his body into yours and reveling in every whimper that was only his to hear. 

No, they couldn’t fathom that half of the story. They knew you two were close, but they didn’t know just how intertwined your lifelines had become with the boy lying beside you. And that was fine, you didn’t care for them to know about those sacred moments laden with secrecy. All you really cared about was that the boy before you was all your summer nights and all your starry skies, brimming with clandestine glances and whispers of worship in moments alone. That was enough for you. Here, in your bubble of privacy by the lake sans persistent cicadas and gentle waves, he was yours. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie murmurs, bringing a hand up to yours that continues to explore his body innocently, intertwining your fingers with his before resting them over his heart. 

It was drumming in his chest – you could feel each beat perfectly, breaking through the Iron Maiden logo and against your skin. After a few moments, your own racing heart synced with his, a quiet rhythm coursing through your veins. You hope he could feel it, too. 

“Just thinking about how it’s just us out here,” you whisper back, voice low and careful not to break this moment. All of the paths, all of the dead-end streets you had both endured, just for moments like this, “How it’s always just us.” 

You mean more than the fact that you never invite anyone else out on your endeavors, but Eddie takes it that way anyway, snorting. 

“You wanna start inviting the guys out here?” he jokes through more laughter, making you attempt to break your hand free from his in order to smack at his chest. He doesn’t let you, though, only tightening his fingers’ grip on yours, “Think that Gareth would like the show? Or maybe Jeff?”

“Stop,” you whine, starting to fight him with your whole body now, still trying to get your hand free. You nearly roll on top of him, your giggles now joining his, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

He doesn’t reply as the two of you continue to wrestle. At some point, he takes his free hand and begins to tickle you, making your giggles turn into awful screeches, echoing in the warm, stale air around the two of you. You twist and twist and twist, trying to get away from his merciless grip. You’re no longer holding hands, him now utilizing both to attack your sides before moving toward your armpits.

“Don’t!” you gasp out, realizing what he was about to do. He’s on his side now, you flat on your back as he begins to hover over you, “Edward Munson, don’t you dare!” 

But he does dare. And even as you’re slapping at his shoulders, even when he overexaggerated how much your knee knocking against his thigh hurt, even when the weight of him presses you down into the blanket and threatens to bury you into the soft dirty of the small-town beach, you know it in your heart – there is no where else you’d rather be in this moment. 

The compromising position that results from the ridiculous tickling and wrestling is welcome, Eddie’s body heavy between your legs as his torso drapes over yours. Your face-to-face with him, now looking in those dazzling brown eyes for constellations rather than the sky above. 

His grin from the entire interaction has begun to ache, but it doesn’t falter as he bumps his nose to yours gently, “I’m sorry. I get it, I know what you mean. It’s always been just us,” he pauses before scrunching up his face, rearing up to continue to tease you before he playfully mocks, “You and me against the world, baby.”

You smack at his chest with fruition this time, making a soft oomph fall from his lips that pass over yours, “I was just trying to be sentimental, you dick.” 

The grin finally falls away, but the corners of his eyes stay crinkled, “I know.” 

When his lips finally meet yours, it’s like a breath of fresh spring air. You’re no longer in Hawkins’ muggy summer weather, instantly transported somewhere far away where the sun is just warm enough for comfort, where the breeze is just soft enough to wrap around your shoulders like a favorite blanket, where every strawberry is the sweetest and nothing will ever hurt. 

The world can be cruel, both in heat waves and hurting souls, but he never is. He’s a sanctuary – he’s your sanctuary. 

His sickly sweet kisses continue, taking your breath away in a willing way, leaving both your lips shades of summer blooms and spring flowers. His tongue is a welcome prodding, almost as if tending to your garden as he tries to get the two of you even closer. It’s not possible, but it doesn’t stop either of you; chests crush together as foreheads clash, and you yearn for a world where you could just curl up beneath each other’s skin, clamber your way into his chest and nestle right beside his pounding heart.

Only Artemis knows that he’s already made residency in yours, decorating your ribs and lungs with his flowers of adoration. 

Between desperate breaths and needy hands, hips beginning to roll and curse the clothing you two have yet to get rid of, you silently wonder where the two of you will end up in this lifetime. You hope it’s amongst the stars. You hope your constellation can find his across the night sky. 

 “Baby,” he begs. You don’t know what he’s begging for – for closeness, for your legs to fall further open and welcome him home, for you to swallow him whole with all the love pounding just beneath the surface of you – so you can only kiss him back with more urgency. 

The urgency follows through both of your movements. Urgency is what removes his shirt, your hands shaking as his chest is exposed to you in the moonlight. Urgency is what unbuttons your shorts, prickles of thorns when his fingertips make contact with your nude hip. Urgency is the slip of his hand into your panties, fingers curling and swirling in every right pattern to have you preening against him. 

“Off,” you plead with him once he has you down to just your underwear and him just his boxers. Your palms rack down desperately over the waistband before trailing down to his bulge, fevered movements earning more purpose as you press down on him and elicit a moan. 

He recovers his composure, only to shake his head down at you, curls ticking your cheeks, “Ever heard of a thing called patience, sweetheart?” 

“Fuck patience,” you immediately argue, pulling yourself back from his lips fully, eyes meeting and lips slick with each other’s spit, “We have the entire summer to be patient, Eddie. Just… Just fuck me. Please.” 

You awakened something in him with those words, you saw away whatever restraint he was holding onto so tightly. These nights always ended the same way, but they never felt the same. 

Familiarity waits in the shadows as each graze of his skin against yours ignites something new in you. New flowers, new petals, new budding growths that scream that this can’t last for just the summer. Whatever this is, as he removes your panties and his boxers, is not just a coming and going on the seasons. It’s not just a constellation only to be seen in the quiet of the night by two lovesick fools sneaking off to observe it. The heat of the summer that frizzes both your hair and his repeats it, the cooler breeze that rolls off the lake behind you guys encourages it. It may have taken the summer to tend to it, but this is only the beginning of it. Not the end – never the end.

And he fucks you like he knows it, too. He can hear the whispers of it all, telling him to pull you closer, telling him to take his time as he pushes into you and feels your walls stretch around him. It isn’t quite patience, it isn’t quite cruelty. It’s just you, and it’s just him. 

“Fuck,” he moans out once he’s fully sheathed inside you, cock pulsing as your wetness tightens on him. Really, it’s a shame that no deity will ever experience the devotion you feel pouring off of him as his mouth falls open for you, as his head rolls back and his eyes flutter close. He’s devoted to you – he’s yours just as you’re his, “Always so wet for me, baby. Always so good.” 

He finds a familiar rhythm to have you both gasping and groaning, and it still feels brand new. The way you feel him deep in your stomach, the way your thighs quiver and his abdomen tightens. It is all always new and it is all always euphoric. 

If you lift your eyes to find the stars above you almost winking at you, you can feel that he’s not fucking you as you’d requested; he’s making love to you. He is confessing his past sins and he is professing that he’d spend the rest of his days here, inside you, against you, with you. 

The roll of his hips don’t stay slow for long, though. You both know the love is there, and you both know what the two of you need. Eventually, soft confessions and loud professions become slapping of skin on skin, teeth knocking as you try to keep your lips on his. You swallow every moan and he grabs every mewl. You can feel his hands on your waist, your hips, your thighs. He is everywhere all at once, and it still isn’t enough. 

It’s not enough until his movements stutter, until his voice has grown hoarse from calling out your name for only the two of you to hear. Your nails rake down his back at some point, and you know that come tomorrow night, beside the lake, you’ll be tracing fading red lines that spell out a clear message: he belongs to me because he chose me. 

Your walls flutter around him and he knows without you saying a single word other than ramblings of his name that you’re close.

“Cum for me,” he’s begging again, lifting above you and looking down with wide, wet eyes, “Fuck- I- Please cum for me, baby. Need you to cum. Please.” 

You whine out in response, head tilting back into the grass around the edges of the blanket, consumed by him. Your ears ring as your vision blacks, the last image you see being his face contorted in pleasure, and you can’t decipher whether it’s the lake again that you hear or simply your own waves meeting his shore. 

The echoes of his voice surround you. 

“Just like that, sweetheart.”

“Doing so good for me.”

“Always such a good girl.” 

When his own high has its hold on him, his head is falling to your shoulder, his nose buried into your sweet spot behind your ear as you listen to every grunt and moan. He holds you painfully close, like he’s scared that maybe this is the end. You ponder bruises in the shapes of roses forming on your hips as he buries deep in you and he paints your walls with warmth, with devotion, with something unspoken only between the two of you. 

He collapses on top of you in the afterglow. Savors the moment, lets his lips pucker against your salty skin slick with sweat no longer just from summer. His own hair is matted at the knape of his neck, his cheeks, his forehead. 

You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your chest. It’s overflowing, mingling with the still crying cicadas. He lifts his head and glances up at you, smiling shyly. 

“What?” 

You continue to laugh, unable to answer him, as he pulls out and cleans you up with his t-shirt. If you weren’t so delirious with unbridled delight, you’d scorn him. 

He doesn’t bother with redressing as he rolls to his original side of the blanket, laying on his back and wrapping his arms around you to pull you into him, “What’s so damn funny, my beautiful girl?” 

You think Artemis, maybe even Orion, would smile down at the sight of the two of you. Perhaps Gaia is sending her well wishes to the love-stricken look you two exchange in the form of a breeze that doesn’t bring more heat, only relief, only sanctuary. 

“We are not inviting Gareth or Jeff out here, ever,” you finally explain breathlessly, “This place is for just us, Munson.” 

He joins you in your lingering giggles, his chest shaking with them more than he vocalizes them as your cheek finds his heart and presses into his cheek. 

Whatever this is, label or not, is good. And it is only the beginning, never the end. Whether the others will ever know or not, the two of you always will, and that’s all that matters for the time being. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, holding you just a little bit tighter, “Always just us, you heathen.” 

He brings a finger to your chin, tilting your face up. When he kisses you, it tastes like summertime and stardust, just as it should.

[sweet-villain]

Already Yours~ E.M

haileighboi asked:

Ok so here is a little fluff one shot

The party notices that Eddie doesn’t talk about girls or really ever interacts with them outside of deals. So the deem themselves to find Eddie a girlfriend and what better person to be than their babysitter aka the reader who is basically Eddie but in girl form. Little does the party know that Eddie and the reader have been together since freshman year. (The reader has graduated and works at the record store to save money for when Eddie finally graduates and get there own place) :)

@ceriseheaven

" Do you think he already has a girlfriend? Mike asks, as Dustin sits down at his spot at the Hellfire table. " Eddie?" Mike nods. " I don't think he has ever talked about girl or even talked to a girl before" Dustin says as he takes out his folder.

" That fool doesn't know what a girl even is" Erica says.

" I have never seen him with a girl" Gareth says. The doors to the dram room fly open as Eddie strolls in, the room got suddenly quiet for some reason causing Eddie to stop in his tracks as he looked from one to the other of his little sheep.

" Usually your like chatterboxes that never stop talking, what's going on?" Eddie sits on his throne, " Dustin? Care to tell me what's going on?"

Dustin cleared his throat as he nervously looked at the others wide eyed. No one uttered a word and looked away.

" We were just talking about my babysitter I used to have" he shrugs thinking it was the best option. Eddie rose his eyebrow, " Oh really? What's so special about this babysitter?"

" She's really cool, she has really long pretty hair, she wears rings on her fingers like you, she's into the same music as you. I'm surprised you two haven't met yet" Eddie tilts his head as he listens. Someone like him? A girl?

The only girl that was on Eddie's mind was you. You had the prettiest hair, the prettiest eyes, you listened to the same music as he does, you wore rings on your fingers like he does. One was a butterfly, one of a horse, one with a gemstone of your favorite color. You had a guitar pick necklace just like Eddie does, it was green and little scratched up. Your dad has given you the guitar pick before he passed away. It was something you had of him. You always wore converse on your feet, you preferred to wear pants over skirts.

You were a girl version of Eddie. He had kept you a secret from the rest of the gang, not because he was embarrassed or anything like that. He wanted you for his own. He knew the rest would bomber you with questions about your relationship.

" Oh! she always made us the best food, took care of us" Mike nodded as he knew who Dustin was talking about. " You're mom never stopped talking about her"

" She's really cool"

" Are going to chit chat all day or what?' Erica asks, with her arms across her chest.

Eddie had already had everything set up, " You heard Lady AppleJack."

" Relax, your just jealous I had a cooler babysitter than you" Dustin says. Erica rolled her eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

" I think we should find Eddie a girlfriend" Robin says as she watches the metal head look through the horror section for movie night at Steve's house. You weren't feeling too good, he would stop by later to check on you. He was pretty bummed out that he wasn't able to hang out with you.

" Munson?" Steve ask as he turns around from the computer.

" No, dingus. The wall. Yes, Eddie" she grumble underneath her breathe.

" I'm pretty sure he never had a girlfriend before. I'm not sure he knows how to talk to a girl" Steve says as he looks over at Eddie. Eddie had grabbed two films from the horror section and made his way over to the two.

" What are you two talking about?" He asks, placing the films on the counter. " Quick Question, Munson. Have you ever thought about, I don't know. Um, asking a girl out? Having a girlfriend?"

Eddie's eyebrows knitted together as he looked between the two.

" Why would I want to ask a girl out? I'm pretty okay where I'm at. My love life isn't any of your business" He says.

" Oh come on, Eddie. Not one single girl interest you in this town?" Eddie shrugs. There was only one girl for him and that was you.

" You have pretty hair, and I'm sure some girl would love to get to know the Eddie Munson. What do you think if Steve and I play match maker?"

" No thanks, Buckley" Eddie shook his head as he took the films he was renting out in his hands. " I'll see you later"

" We are getting him a girlfriend" Steve says turning back around to what he was doing on the computer.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie awkwardly stood next to the girl that Steve said he had to meet. She wore a Metallica shirt, a leather jacket and was talking up a storm about the band she was into. It's not that Eddie didn't want to talk to or listen. He rather be in any place with you than here.

He twisted the rings on his fingers, a hand placed on his shoulder brought his attention as he looked over seeing Steve by his side.

" How's it going?" he asks, looking from Eddie to the girl. He thought Eddie would like this girl very much and things were going to go right. It looks like they weren't from the expression on Eddie's face.

" He's really is something, Steve" the girl says as she looks Eddie's way. Eddie avert his gaze feeling out of place. " isn't she pretty?" Steve asks. Eddie shrugs off Steve's hand on his shoulder.

" Harrington, thanks. But no, thanks" he says as he simply offered the girl a sympathetic smile as he made his way out of the house. He felt really wrong being there.

He didn't need a girlfriend. He had one already. You.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie and you have been together since freshman year in high school. You stood out from everyone else, as soon as his eyes spotted you walking into the cafeteria, he dropped his pretzels as he hurried to introduce himself.

He ended up crashing into you instead, apologizing with a hint of red on his cheeks as he looked anywhere else but you.

" My name is Eddie" he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

" I know, my name is Y/N" you tell him. You had already shared a couple of classes with him. He always sat in the back, doodling in his notebook. His heart swelled up when you knew who he was already. The rest was history. The two of you went on dates, not really telling people that you were dating each other. It was you and him. That all that matters.

Your mom had tried to set you up with a couple of boy's mom she knew around town but you weren't interested. You were in love with your boyfriend. The metal head had stolen your heart at first glance.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were restocking some albums that had came in when the door opened and a head of brown curls and the dimple smile that you loved walked through the door.

" Hey Eds" you greeted him. You had graduated high school and working at the record store to save up when Eddie graduates to have a place of your own.

" Hey, sweetheart" he greets you, making his way over to you and wraps his arms behind. He placed his head on your shoulder as he watches you. " My girl is working hard" he says, kissing your clothed shoulder.

" Always, really can't wait till you graduate babe and we can move into our own place" he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. He places a small kiss there causing you to giggle.

His favorite sound.

" Me neither, can't wait to have you wake up next to me every day. Come home to you and get all the kisses in the world"

" You already get all the kisses in the world" he turns you around his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling at him.

" I" he pecks your lips " can" he kisses you again, " never" he places another peck on your lips, " get" he kisses you again, " enough," he pecks your lips again, " kisses."

He kisses you passionately, one hand going into your hair while the other holds your hips. Your hands rest on his chest as you kiss him back.

You pull away breathless, " as much as I would love to keep kissing you, baby. I need to get back work, some of us have jobs"

He rolls his eyes.

" When do you get off?" he asks.

You hummed looking at the time, " In four hours."

He groans, throwing his head back. " It's too long"

" You'll be okay Eds, it's only a few hours" he leans in to nuzzle his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent.

" I'll miss you"

" I'll miss you too" he pulls away with a pout. " Eds, I need to work"

" Fine, I'll go but one more kiss?" he puckers his lips. You lean over to kiss him.

He was too cute.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve parks the car in front of the movies, Robin is in the passenger seat, Dustin is in the back with Lucas and Mike. Argyle parks his next to Steve's with Will, Nancy and Jonathan in the back.

They already see Eddie's van parked a few spaces down.

What their eyes couldn't believe was when they got out of the cars and made their way to the entrance, there stood Eddie with his arms wrapped around a girl. A girl.

Not just any girl. It was you.

" Y/N!?" Dustin asked in disbelief. You pulled away from Eddie's arm and looked over at him. " Dustin?" you asked, shocked to see him.

" What are you doing here?" you asked.

" What are you doing here?' he asked.

" Seeing a movie with my boyfriend and his friends"

" You're dating Eddie?" Mike asks.

" Hi Mike" you waved, " you out grew the hair. Nice" you motion to it.

" Thanks" he says.

" I can't believe your dating Y/N. She was my old babysitter"

" So this is the cool girl you kept telling me about, I already knew my girl was the coolest" Eddie says as he wraps his arms around you and kisses your cheek.

Your cheeks flushed red, " We didn't know Eddie knew what a girl even is" Steve says.

" Very funny, Harrington"

[cerberus-new-owner]

I've returned with yet another headcannon / rant thingy on the brothers / everyone buuuuuuuuut anyways

so we all know about the devilswitches and if i remember correctly the devildom equivelant (is that the right spelling??) of mario kart is devil kart or smth idrk what im on about rn lol buuuuuuuuuuut (and this has probably already been talked about before i just cant remember/ havent acctually gotten that far into the games) who would be the best at the game other than levi (in my opinion, sorry if this is a bit ooc)

so without further ado the list from best to worst out of the brothers in my opinion at the devildom equvalent of mario kart with explainations (theres a summarised version with the dateables at the end for those who dont wanna read my ramblings)

Levi - do i have to explain why

Belphegor - he and beel seem to be the ones who hang out with levi the most (other than mammon but he steals more than he plays) so i feel like with their own mini game nights beel and belphie would've picked up some form of skill when it came to the multiplayer games levi owns also i get weird speed demon vibes from belphie i know his sin is sloth and all but i feel like he'd be eerily good at racing games

Beel - pretty much the same as belphegor but he doesn't give me those kind of speed demon vibes like belphie does when it comes to video games and stuff he gives me more 'I'll play if you guys want to play' kinda vibes yet still manages to get a decent score everytime cause he would have picked up some form of skill from playng with

Satan - lets be honest he probably plays the game secretly when he doesn't have anything to read or do purely so he can be better than lucifer at family game nights whenever levi gets to chose the game, satan probably has a secret chart of the games his brothers tend to chose most offten and any new games that enter the house of lamentation mans is doing the most he can whilst still being secretive to master as many of the games in the hol aspossible just so he can hold it over luci's head the only games on his chart that he hasn't been able to master to a point where he can beat lucifer are the games lucifer choses on the gamenights

Lucifer - i dont know man i just feel like lucifer would be better than mams and asmo at the game

Mammon - he's literally just getting distracted by the coins on the track and blabbering on about the coin limit and how he can hold so much more grimm than that before attempting to prove himself by asking (begging) his brothers for grimm so he can prove his point if they decide to give in and hand him some grimm so he can prove his point he's dropping all of it trying to run way with the grimm in his arms before sheepishly returning with a singular coin in his hand picking up some of the grimm he dropped

Asmodeus - lets be so for real right now he probably refuses to play this game because he hates how focusing so much distracts him from time he could be spending pampering himself or making sure his nails are painted just the right shade or the fact that when most game nights are happening they start to eat into his precious beauty sleep (dont worry asmo i get you i should be sleeping rn) he probably only participetes in the games he knows he'll win in (aka the games he gets to chose) or the games where he can team up with someone and have them do most of the work (usually satan) if he's acctually plaing this game with everyone else he's acctually not he's going through every character and talking about their outfits before chosing who he dubs the cutest for that night and then making the cutest cart he can to suit the charcter until one of the other brothers gets bored and tells asmo he can sit out of the game and just watch

if i were to add the others the list would probably look something like this and i dont wanna write that much so i'll just summarise my reasons for everyone

levi - the reasons are obvious

belphegor - like i said speed demon vibes

barbatos - also gives off speed demon vibes

beel - some sort of stange skill gained

satan - wants to be better than luci

solomon - wants to get a pact with luci

lucifer - would just be better than asmo and mams

diavolo - he just wants to enjoy the game

luke - no particular reason other than it'd be funny to watch mammon lose to him

mammon - idiot

asmo - beauty sleep / pampering self / takes to long to decide

simeon - i love simeon but lets be honest he probably wouldn't even be able to use the controls

if anyone acctually read through all that thank you if you just skipped to the summarised part also thank you it makes my day to know someone at least looked at these (expecially this one it took me atleast an hour between me playing mario kart and me getting distracted) i may return with more ideas that may not be original but i've put my own spin on dont expect any big fics maybe a drabble or rant here and there but if i do decide to continnue posting obey me content it will most likely be dumb little headcannons like this or funny things i find in the games as i continue to play them through (for the third time in the past 2 years, barely made it past lesson 18 and then my laptop died so i had to restart) (

forgot to add this before posting buuuut) I hope everyone have a good night/day (evening, morning, breakfast lunch?? diner????)

racing to the masterlist

[phoenixtakaramono]

OPERATION BABYLON - PART VI

aka the butchlander sugar baby AU.

We have the first reader interactive poll for this threadfic! I recommend reading the update to the end (with a detailed breakdown of each choice) before making your decision.

Tumblr Navigation (note I have not shared the prologue here with its premise setup; I’ve only started sharing this twitter threadfic on tumblr starting from the 2nd 🔞 scene): I | II | III | IV | V | VI

Update Schedule: weekly/ biweekly

(You can read the rest of the threadfic update here!)

Keep in mind, all of my AU Butchlander threadfics on Twitter are the unpolished first draft versions of what’ll eventually be polished up into long fics on AO3 under the Shock and Awe series. So you may regard this threadfic as an experimental first prototype and exclusive preview whose contents may or may not be changed in the future final draft version. We’re just loosely playing around with ideas and concepts for now!

If you don’t have a Twitter account, screenshots are provided below the line break so you can read this update on Tumblr as well:

A more-in-depth breakdown of the choices:

A) Tell the truth. To avoid suspicion, Billy lays low and comes up with an excuse that he's booked for the whole day plays hard to get. It'll lead to Homelander running into "William out on a date" with another Supe—and a jealous Homelander running interference lol and sabotaging it, potentially leading to a "private tour" at The Seven meeting room and some 🔞 inappropriate office s*x ;) the setting depends if I decide to have it as a Vought HQ gala event or a Capes for Christ baptism

The payoff: a lead into the investigation The con: Billy's relationship with one of his long-time regulars is irreversibly damaged (it'll come bite him in the arse much later in the threadfic)

B) Homelander wants to be his sugar daddy. So Billy wants to test that and see if he can get our caped crusader to unknowingly fund his little CIA operation by exaggerating his rent and monthly overhead costs to tug at the hero's supposed generous philanthropist heartstrings. It'll lead to the sugar baby/daddy relationship being developed more aka a lil à la Pretty Woman-styled "shopping spree" with Homelander raining gifts on Billy's head say bye bye to Billy's CIA-assigned base, potentially leading to a 🔞 scene for "William to show him his gratitude"

The payoff: a bigger base and money for a more in-depth investigation The con: Homelander will lowkey stalk monitor him, so it'll be harder to keep his covert activities a secret from him or sneak out

C) The cute "Waiting for you :)" type of option. Billy doubles down on the act and reforms himself into Homelander's dream lover. It's tooth-rotting romantic fluff and flirty back-and-forth banter between them, but keep in mind what'll happen when Homelander inevitably realizes the "William who's literally almost perfect in every way and is too good to be true" isn't actually real much much much later as a direct consequence of this early choice.

The payoff: a happy Homelander (speedrun gaining his trust and affection by taking our bbg on dates <3) The con: the future fallout (and reconciliation) will be much more dramatic

Choose your poison! You can also vote on Twitter (link to the poll). I will add the final results together, and we’ll see which story route comes out on top.

A/N: A bit of Billy’s POV as we begin to pull back the curtains. How deep does this rabbithole of deception go? Far. Very far. Did y'all see the twist with Popclaw? Didn't expect that, did ya?

I am, by the way, open to ⚠️🔞 reader suggestions~. I make no promises that I’ll write it, but this threadfic is meant as a shameless excuse to write 🔞 butchlander spice, haha, and provide y’all some content during our butchlander drought. I have one reader suggestion thus far, and it involves candle wax. 🕯️

[coleblackblood]

Fic Masterpost

It was brought to my attention that I don't often post my fics on here, and that might be a good idea.

Honestly never did it before cause I'm lazy forgetful didn't think about it for various reasons, but I also now have enough people who are interested in my fics now that I can justify doing so.

(Read: people in the servers - Hiiiii Rooks/People of the Grove!)

Hope this helps you find stuff to read!

Note: If there's a double asterick on a fic's pairing, that means it's spicy (aka don't read it at work)

Last Updated: 10/2/24

Glenwood (CastleAudios ASMR):

Glenwood Musings - General

The (Sometimes Human) Guide to Werewolf Dating - Seer & Evie

Long Day - Ranger

Running Her Mouth - Seer/Beth

Crossed Paths - Multiple Pairings

Knightly Musings - Knight

Ranger's Secret - Claire/Ranger, Seer/Beth (crack fic)

Keep That Pretty Mouth Shut - Dear/Rose

Testing Some Things Out - Seer/Beth**

Cuddle Jealousy - Seer/Beth, Ranger/Claire, Claire & Seer

Cuddle Jealousy (Light Edition) - Seer/Beth, Ranger/Claire, Claire & Seer

The Trials of Being a Southern Lady Simp - Sugar/Miss Liza

Quenching the Flames - Ranger/Claire

Stay Comfy and Culty - Abigail & OC

Omega - Claire/Ranger

A Debt Repaid - Claire & Valera (Past Claire/Valera)

Glenwood Archive - Keep Out (This Means You) - Multi Pairings

Breathe - Claire/Ranger, Beth/Seer, Knight/Evie, Pack (individual chapters)

Glenwood Shoots Their Shot - Multi Pairings**

5 Times Seer Begged and 1 Time They Didn't Have To (But Did Anyway) - Seer/Beth**

Rest Day - Dear/Abby/Rose

The Gratest Competition - Claire/Ranger (Crack fic)

Something Borrowed - Beth/Seer, Beth & Joanna/Her Mom

Good Enough - Dear/Abby/Rose

Cookies - Ranger/Claire

(B)romance? - Multiple Pairings (Knight/Seer focus)

Rest Day Part 2 - Dear/Abby/Rose**

The Taste of Hunger and Time - Sugar/Miss Liza

Too Serious, Too Quick - Sugar/Miss Liza, Sugar & Celine

Rogue's Blood - Rogue & Multiple Characters

A Chance Meeting - Celine/Lydia/Deviant, Celine/Deviant**

Sugar and Spice - Sugar/Ranger**

Ashwood Grove (Will o' the Wisp Audios):

Life at Ashwood Grove University - Sparks

Electric Sparks - Sparks/Char

Friendly Reminders - Sparks/Eri

Head Empty - Sparks/Eri**

Denim-Clad Goddamn - Monroe/Sugar**

Gotta Make Your Own Fun - Monroe/Sugar

Give Her Something Else to Put Her Lips On (Respectfully) - Grey/Troublemaker

The Omegaverse Fic Nobody Asked For (Version 1) - Omega!Ashton/Alpha!Jackass**

The Omegaverse Fic Nobody Asked For (Version 2) - Alpha!Ashton/Omega!Jackass**

Round Two - Char/Eri/Shae/Sparks**

Starstruck - Char/Sparks

Beastly - Noir/Aries**

Ashwood Grove Explains the Omegaverse - Multiple** (Crack)

Closet Quickie - Alpha!Noir/Omega!Aries**

Willpower - Sunshine/Morgan**

Saving You, Saving Me - Lore/Gorgeous

Far Cry 5:

Far Cry 5 (Soulmates AU) - Deputy/Seeds

Far Cry 5 Ficlets - Multiple

Kinktober**:

Far Cry 5 Drabbles - Kinktober 2022

FC5 Kinktober 2022 (Series - each day a separate fic)

Kinktober 2023 - Glenwood Edition

Kinktober 2023 - Ashwood Edition

Kinktober 2024 - Seer Fest Edition

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 7: The Dream

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Spencer sleeps, then wakes.

Read chapter 7 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3 I would love to know what you like about the story :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

“Why me?”

Spencer blinked.

His head was spinning. He could have sworn he heard a voice.

“You're still worried about hearing voices?” the voice answered. “Seriously, man, why did you come to me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to help. Just would’ve figured you’ve got better people to do this with.”

He looked up. A familiar face hovered above him, dancing in and out of his vision.

“What are you doing here?” asked Spencer.

He tried to sit up but his body was glued to the surface beneath him. He jerked forward but he couldn't pull himself free.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” said Ethan with a raised eyebrow.

He was on the shabby couch in Ethan’s small New Orleans apartment. He finally managed to pry himself loose and drag himself into a sitting position. The air was wet cement. The walls of the apartment expanded and contracted like lungs.

“I have nowhere else to go,” Spencer explained.

“Bullshit,” said Ethan. “You’ve got a whole team of people who care about you and plenty of savings to pay your way through a private rehab facility, and instead you’re sweating it out on the couch of some guy you’ve talked to all of once in the last half-decade.”

“Fine. If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave,” spat Spencer. "I wouldn't want to drag you down with my problems."

He tried to stand, but his wrists were tied with rough rope. The smell of rotting fish was thick in the air.

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” said Ethan affectionately. “It’s good to see you, though I wish for your sake it was under better circumstances. Besides," he pointed out, "you couldn’t get further than the front door without puking up half your body weight right now.”

Spencer pulled at his bound wrists. “Untie me!” he demanded. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I'm not doing anything, Spencer. You’ve done this to yourself.”

“It’s not my fault!” he yelled, the smell of the rot turning his stomach. “I didn’t have a choice. I said no, I tried to stop it, I did everything I was supposed to do.”

The bindings wrapped tighter, snaking around his abdomen and up to his neck. They constricted around his throat painfully.

“How long before you can’t use that excuse anymore?” asked Ethan snidely, a tone that Spencer had rarely heard from him. “How many months after you killed Tobias before you finally admitted it wasn't him that kept sticking those needles in your arm? Fuck, man, 16 years later and you're more of a junkie than you've ever been. Whose making you do it this time?"

“Fuck you,” he growled. “You abandoned me! You left your whole future behind to go be a drunk in New Orleans. You have no right to judge me."

“You never asked me to stay.”

“You never cared what I wanted!”

“What? You wanted me to stay in the Academy? Join the BAU with you? Have a magical life getting kidnapped and tortured and hooked on drugs together? Spend romantic evenings in hotel rooms looking at photos of mutilated bodies?"

Spencer pulled against the restraints again, and again they resisted. "I never said that. I never wanted that. You were my only real friend and I was worried you were throwing your life away," he explained. "That's all."

Suddenly, Ethan was knelt beside him. He was laying down on the couch again. The ropes that had entangled him melted away. He was shaking, sweating, the cushions were a bed of nails beneath him. Ethan shushed him gently, wiping a cool cloth over his forehead. “You’re gonna be alright. I’m glad you came to me.”

Spencer blinked hard.

He stared into Ethan’s gentle eyes. “I don’t think I’m getting out of this alive,” he admitted in a whisper. “I need my friends to be safe. They have to make it out, no matter what happens to me.”

“Do you think we could have had something?” asked Ethan as if he hadn’t heard Spencer talk. “If the world wasn't such a fucked up place for anyone a little too different, do you think we would’ve had a chance at something real?”

Spencer swallowed down a painful lump in his throat. “I don’t know.”

“We could try now,” said Ethan, putting a hand on his cheek. “Maybe this is our chance.”

“That’s not what you said,” Spencer breathed. “I remember. This isn’t how it happened. You helped me, then we said goodbye, and we never talked about any of this.”

“But it’s what you wanted me to say.”

��No.” Spencer rolled over on the thin mattress. Ethan knelt beside him in the brightly lit bunker. “That's not what I wanted.”

“Then why are you here?” asked Ethan. Spencer didn’t look at him. “You spent so long scared of losing your mind, you didn't even realize you never had it to begin with.”

Ethan’s hand enveloped Spencer’s. Their fingers intertwined.

When Ethan’s hand pulled away, there was a cool, smooth object left behind.

“I know what you want,” said Ethan.

Spencer looked down at his hand.

A loaded syringe rested on his palm.

He stared up at Ethan, who had drifted to the back of the cavernous, concrete room. The buzz of the fluorescent lights echoed, and the blinking red camera sat at the periphery of his vision no matter which direction he looked.

“I don’t want it,” said Spencer desperately, holding the syringe of swirling gas aloft.

“You've never wanted anything more than this.”

When he looked again, Ethan was gone.

He looked down at his arm. It was unmarked, smooth and fresh without even the faintest hint of old, scarred over track marks. It hadn’t looked like that since Georgia. There was a tourniquet tied around his upper arm.

The needle was pressed against the crook of his elbow.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief. Every muscle in his body relaxed. The world was about to be right again.

He placed his thumb on the plunger, depressing it slowly like he had a thousand times before.

The gas traveled up through the veins in his arm, making its way closer and closer to his heart.

Something was wrong. He coughed. He felt the gas spreading inside him, burning everything it touched.

His throat was raw and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't catch his breath. He gasped for air, but got none.

What had he done? What had he done to himself? He was never going to breath again and it was all his fault!

Then: Awake.

His eyes burned as he pried them slowly open. He flinched back against the light, blinking slowly in an attempt to adjust.

“Spence, it’s okay, we’re here,” came a soft voice from somewhere beside him.

A hand rubbed gentle circles on his back.

He finally managed to adjust to the horrible fluorescent light. JJ was leaning over him, staring at him with wide, worried eyes.

“You’ve been out for hours,” said Emily from somewhere nearby. “We’ve been checking your vitals and keeping an eye on you, but we didn’t want to force you awake.”

He looked up and saw the rest of them lingering behind JJ.

He could have cried from relief, and very nearly did.

“You’re all okay,” he said, closing his eyes tightly to stave off the tears.

Derek huffed a laugh. “You’re worried about us? Man, I was scared you were never going to wake up,” he said with a watery smile.

Spencer cringed. All at once, his senses lit up. The others leaned in with concern as his hand flew up to his throat, feeling for injury. He swallowed and tried to clear his throat, triggering a rough cough. After a second of coughing he had to fight back an immense wave of nausea.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hotch. “Are you injured?”

He shook his head helplessly. He rubbed at his throat and couldn’t feel any external signs of injury, but he felt as if he’d swallowed glass. “I don’t know.”

“Let me take a look,” he said, leaning past JJ and kneeling beside him.

Spencer pushed himself up into a sitting position on the hard concrete floor. Hotch reached out and touched his throat, looking at it intently and feeling for any signs of damage. He was gentle in a way that made Spencer think back to Jack’s seventh birthday party. He had fallen and grazed his knee and the only thing in the world that could have consoled him in that moment was his dad.

“I can’t see any signs of damage,” said Hotch, pulling his hands away. “It could be a side effect from the gas. You were out a lot longer than the rest of us. It’s possible you had a bad reaction.”

He could feel the tremor in his hands, the sweat beading on his brow. The swirling nausea. If felt like one of his worse comedowns, or like the tail end of detox. Except, that didn’t explain the pain in his throat.

“Not to mention, we don’t know how long we were all unconscious or what happened during that time,” said Derek, arms folded tightly across his chest, expression carefully controlled.

For the first time, Spencer noticed their clothes.

None of them were in the same clothes they’d been in when they first arrived. He looked down at himself. Light blue scrubs, like the kind you would see in a hospital. Crisp and clean.

His stomach dropped.

He was clean. His clothes had been changed. The Unsub had cleaned him. He touched his face, feeling the smooth skin along his jaw. She had even shaved him.

Another look at Derek and his stomach dropped even further. As freaked out as he was, he could only imagine what kind of feelings this was triggering for his friend.

Derek seemed to piece together what he was thinking. “I’m good,” he said firmly. “Don’t worry about me.”

That last part sounded less like a reassurance and more like a command.

Spencer let it drop. He was hardly in a position to judge anyone else for not sharing. It’s not as if this was a safe space for any of them to unpack their trauma.

He turned his attention to the rest of the bunker. The others backed up, giving him room to see.

Not that there was much to look at.

The mattresses were gone. Their little luxuries and amenities were gone. The entire bunker smelled strongly of disinfectant. He hated how much of a relief that was to him after the smell of mold.

Oh god. He groaned audibly when his eyes hit the empty doorway where the bathroom door had once been.

“Yep,” said Emily mournfully. “Still trying to process that loss.”

“Of all the experiences in prison I had hoped to never repeat again, this was pretty high on the list,” he said, voice raspy and raw but thankfully getting through the sentence without coughing. He looked to the rest of them. “Do any of you remember anything at all?”

All eyes flicked over to JJ. They had already had this discussion amongst themselves, it seemed.

“It’s difficult to say for sure,” she said cautiously. “I was pretty out of it, but I think I came to at one point. Wherever I was, it wasn’t here. And… I think I heard two voices. One feminine, one masculine.” Spencer nodded. They had speculated that their Unsub had an accomplice. She was likely the dominant one in the pair with a male companion who did her bidding. “They must have dosed me right afterwards, though. I don’t remember anything else,” she finished.

“We all have marks,” said Rossi. “Same as the ones we came in with. The gas would have knocked us out temporarily, but they must have used injections to maintain it. She doesn’t like to deviate her methods, it seems. Not surprising.”

Spencer felt the spot just behind his ear. It was easy to miss, but there was a tiny bump that was just a bit swollen.

“Do you think it’s the same formula as last time?” asked Derek with a raised eyebrow.

He mulled it over, a little irritated that he was becoming something of a human narcotic testing strip for them. Never mind that he had a PhD in chemistry. It was his expertise in being a junkie that gave them such faith in his ability to identify whatever drug cocktails they had all been injected with.

“I don’t know. If I’ve been unconscious as long as you say, then whatever was in my system is likely cleared out. All I know for sure is that I feel terrible.” He sighed. “It's likely. It would explain why-” he stopped to cough, trying to clear his throat, “- why I’m experiencing more acute withdrawal symptoms again.”

Though he would never admit it out loud to anyone, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being disappointed that he hadn’t been conscious to experience getting shot up. He was saddled with all of the horrible side effects, and he didn’t even get to experience the high. It felt unfair, and he knew exactly how pathetic it was that he felt that way.

Hotch put a hand on his shoulder, which surprised him. “You’ll be alright. It will pass faster this time,” he assured him.

Derek also gave him a sympathetic smile, though how sincere that sympathy was, Spencer wasn’t sure. He’d stopped commenting on it while they had all been stewing in filth together, but he knew he was still upset with him.

“Any speculation on the compound we were gassed with?” Derek asked. “I’ve never encountered a gas that can induce unconsciousness in a whole room full of people like that.”

Spencer perked up. This was a subject that was actually of some interest to him. “Contrary to what movies portray, incapacitating agents that can reliably induce non-lethal unconsciousness in an uncontrolled setting don’t exist. In the case of-” he coughed, struggling to speak through the pain, “-the Moscow theater siege in 2002, the Russian authorities rendered a theater of 800 people unconscious in order to stop a terrorist attack, using a Fentanyl derivative. It was extremely effective, yet 15% of the hostages died as a result of the gas. In our case, my guess would be that they used a compound with a substance similar to Halothane as the primary component.”

He took a break from speaking to double over and have a coughing fit in earnest, searing pain on the inside of his throat leaving him gasping for air. The others rushed to him, helping him as he curled up on the floor, struggling to breath.

Once he finally caught his breath, he looked back up at Hotch. He cleared his throat a couple of times, keeping his voice low and soft when he spoke.

“I think you were right about me having a bad reaction. Controlling the dose of an aerosolized anesthesia in a large space is nearly impossible. I was the last to get my mask on. I must have inhaled too much,” he ground out, stopping to suppress another coughing fit. “I think I was intubated.”

They all looked at him with wide eyes. It made sense. It would explain the pain in his throat. He must have gotten a big enough dose to cause toxicity and require temporary intubation. It would also explain why he was so much more affected than the others. Why he took so long to wake up.

It was difficult to read all of their expressions. He thought they looked upset. Horrified? Concerned? Afraid?

“This tells us something we didn’t know before,” said Emily, squaring her shoulders, refusing to dwell too long in a nightmare that none of them could even remember. “Access to that much Halothane, or any other powerful anesthetic, combined with the knowledge and skill to perform an intubation, means-”

“At least one of our Unsubs works in the medical field,” finished JJ.

“This is good,” said Rossi. “We did all of this to learn more, and it worked.”

Spencer looked around at the empty, cold concrete. He had the same thought that he was sure they all had.

Sure, it worked. But at what cost?

[lovingherrscher]

Bungou Stray Dogs Otoge

So I saw an earlier post about what BSD characters being the love interests in Diabolik Lovers, so why not make an otoge/otome game for them?

Dazai Yohane proudly presents you... Bungou Stray Dogs Otoge!

Warning: Crack, some angst in the bad endings, OOC even maybe. Random thoughts in a mental breakdown. Spoilers for Storm Bringer. Character deaths mentions.

Notes: None. I just want to distract myself.

Love interests:

Dazai Osamu - 1 True Ending, 1 Good Ending and 2 Bad Endings

The mystery type

"Posterboi", yes, he's on the poster for the common version of the game, the limited version ft all 5 love interests (except for Fyodor because he's in the secret route)

Ranked #2 in the popularity poll

Is loved by all the fangirls

Likes to fool around with MC

All of that disappear when you got out of the common route and head for his route

FUCK PLEASE GO BACK

Shout out to Dazai slowly opening up gotta be my favourite genre

Will have a CG where he takes you to Lupin and slowly opens up to you about his past

Best bed scene in the whole game

One of the bad endings is where you two committed a lover's suicide together and succeeded.

Nakahara Chuuya - 1 True Ending, 2 Good Ending and 3 Bad Endings

The rich guy who'd buy you everything as a gift, jewelries, fancy clothes, a store, a building even?!

Candidate for the next mob boss

5/5 (actually 4.5) on these criterias:

The (soon to be) mob boss

Cruel, cold to almost everyone else except for his 'family' aka the mafia

Is actually a nice person

Will treats you gently, like a princess when he's head over heels for you

Gap moe (he likes dogs)

So inevitably, he ranked #1 in the popularity poll

Is almost everything the Italians hates about 'romanticizing the mafiosos'

His route is basically a whole "FUCK GO BACK" like Dazai, since we'll focus on his traumas and his past more.

He will opens up about his fear of not being a human, about the calamity that lives inside him

Has a CG where he takes you to visit Rimbaud's and The Flags' graves.

That one route would make the players put the Switch/PS Vita down and ask themselves why are they here, just to suffer.

Best kiss sounds in the whole fucking game I say. His bed scene makes you went from angsty mood to instant horny.

One of his bad ending is about how Chuuya lost control of the calamity inside him - Arahabaki when he saw you, killed before his eyes by the enemy, and with Dazai out of the picture, there isn't anyone there to stop him anymore.

Nakajima Atsushi - 1 True Ending, 1 Good Ending and 1 Bad Ending

That one character make everyone goes 'hell I could adopt him even not flirt with him.'

Cute, shy boy

Is cute when needed and sexy when wanted

Makes you wonder how can an angel like this even exists

Has good kissing sounds *if you know what I mean*

Drifting off the common route we dig deeper into his past, about the beast inside him, about the orphanage and the headmaster

A CG where he'll cry in your arms and you soothing him, reassure the boy that it's all in the past and he isn't alone now

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke - 1 True Ending, 2 Good Ending and 2 Bad Ending

Tsundere type

Foul-mouthed

Eventually will slowly opens up to MC

God he's so cute and precious

Needs a hug for all the traumas he's been through

His route basically focus on his past and how Dazai affected him so much

He has a CG where he sat down and talk with you about Gin and how he grows up in the slum, about why did he crave for power so bad, and why he wanted to be acknowledged by his ex-mentor.

3rd best bed scene in the game.

Kunikida Doppo - 1 True Ending, 1 Good Ending and 1 Bad Ending

Workaholic type

A man who dedicates his life to work

The handsome one with glasses

It's really fun watching him slowly falling for you, especially when he has this "58 standards for the ideal woman"

He'll slowly crosses them out just for you 💖

His route focus on the reason he dreams of an ideal world, his ideal world

Will has this 'behind the scene' flashback about The Azure King's case and Azure Apostle's case 2 years ago with the death of Rokuzou and Sasaki.

A CG where he holds you tightly in his arms and speaks with a broken voice, teary eyes about how he's so scare that his ideal might consume him one day like what happened to Azure King. He is whom chases his ideals like the moth chasing flames, but deep down under that perfectionist, workaholic mask is how he's insecure and scared that his ideals will burn him down like the flame that burn down the moth.

2nd best bed scene in the game.

His bad ending is basically when his ideals finally consume him and Kunikida became the 2nd Azure King.

Secret route: Fyodor Dostoevsky - 1 True Ending and 1 Bad Ending

After you finish everyone's route, a new, hidden route will be unlocked. And it's the Russian man, the mastermind behind everything

To be honest, this is quite of a short route. No common, just straight to his route

Also a mystery type

The smart, prodigy type

The one who has this aura goes "run for your life" or either "damn he's hot"

Expect an unhealthy relationship when you're in this route

This man will uses you like a pawn on his chessboard

Gaslighting, manipulation, abusing, you name it. Everything is in this route

What good ending? No good ending with him for you missy. Only true end or bad end.

WORST BAD ENDING IN THE WHOLE GAME. Please don't ask what it's like.

Fandisc: 2 fandisc with one being the current timeline, the other is about when Dazai is still in the mafia.

Bonus contents for 1st fandisc:

An extra route for Fukuzawa

A Bad Ending in common route ft a 3P, a Dazai x MC x Chuuya sandwich *chef's kiss*

An another Bad Ending in common route ft a 3P, an Atsushi x MC x Akutagawa sandwich

And a new Bad Ending in secret route leads you to a Dazai x MC x Fyodor sandwich

Bonus contents for 2nd fandisc:

A Mafia!Dazai route

An Odasaku route

An Ango route

A Bad Ending in common route that's extra spicy ft a 4P with the Dark Era Trio?!!! *chef's kiss*

[kabartmatzu]

Oookaaay… Here is Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Ladybug. There is not many doodles like in Chloe’s drawing because I didn’t want to lol. I worked on Ladybug waay before Chloe and I tried so many designs and I worked on this drawing for days because of my job so I kinda got bored of drawing her. But I will draw her more later, dw!

Now I want to tell a little about my design choices rather than her story. She is not so different from show anyway. I deleted her creepiness and made her “not wearing same outfit everyday”. Lmao. Also she talks a lot about fashion in every kind of situation. She is a talented person in many kind of things. She is kind, friendly and cares about others more than herself. I kept her clumsiness but not as annoying as in the show. She is late to school not because she over sleeps but because she spends so much time on her clothing I thought. She got miraculous on high school but story takes time in their university years. Nino is her high school friend. She met with Alya in university. They are roommates in dorm.

So there are rules I follow when I design their hero outfits. Like keep the eyes same as kwamii’s eyes. And there are some features every holder keeps. I mean for all the Ladybug users, they’ve got that black dot on their head and they can’t cover it. That’s why her fringe (?) is short. Also Marinette would like her hair out of her way. Or they get elytra and wings. Yes she got wings so does Queen Bee ( even tho i forgot to draw ) but they can’t fly I thought. They just can glide with them because wings are not big enough for a human to fly. Or Cat users always get ears. All users get sharper faces so they become unrecognizable also their skin tone changes a little. Ladybug users get redder Bee users get yellower etc.

So for Marinette I tried giving her Chinese symbols like some other redesigns. I would like to show it but I can’t get it thanks to Autodesk getting crushed :/ I like that design but still I didn’t went with that. I felt like it doesn’t help with the secret identity thing. So I went with reds over black like real ladybugs. 🐞 I also wanted white dots a lot because of, again, real ladybugs. But I didn’t like them so I added circles over black dots. I am not sure if it looks too complicated but I kinda liked them. Yellow would be good too with red and black but every character would have yellow on them if I did so. Chat Noir and Hawkmoth has yellow details in my redesigns that you will see in the future. (Kinda want to give that they are related they are son and father thing with same yellow lines. I thought its cute.) Queen Bee is also yellow soo I didn’t add yellow on Ladybug. Two stripes on her hips for ladybug’s third set of legs if that makes sense. Her legs and arms are black because ,again, ladybugs are like that. I also thought she added her ladybug thing on her neck after seeing Cat Noir’s bell hehehe. I like pig tails but I really wanted “antennas” to come from her hair so I changed them into buns and I kinda liked them.

Also about her earrings looking like triangles, in my version kwamiis can shapeshift and miraculouses are kind of a part of them so they also can change miraculouses looks. So Marinette has shapeshifting earrings so she doesn’t have to keep buying new earrings lmaoo. It is also good for hiding their identity!

For her powers I will make a post and explain my version of the power system so I will explain her powers there but let me tell you no.miraculous.ladybuging. No fixing every damage. No. Also her yoyo will have more abilities so does other users weapons. I don’t think I will keep the communication thing where they use them as phones. But I want yoyo to has the abilities in the 2D version. Like using it as smoke bomb or as a shield. Her elytra is also like a shield but she can’t take it in her hand. It always stays in her back. Or she can separate her yoyo from middle and make it kinda like nunchucks. I will draw those to explain better.

Also… I am not sure how she will use her creation power. I mean she creates something with her yoyo i mean lucky charm. But Chat Noir looks like he gets his destruction power from his ring. Did you get what I mean? I thought maybe Marinette should get the thing she created from her earrings and make all other users like that but like how Queen Bee’s venom will work then? Or Rena Rouge’s power?? I am not sureee. Maybe I should make them all use their weapons to use their powers or I can make all of them different? Any idea?

[something-in-your-walls]

ALL THE MELVINS HAVE A GROUP CHAT HERE ARE WHAT SK MELVIN HAS EACH OF THEM SAVED AS + SOME OF HIS SMALL THOUGHTS ON THEM!

“megamind” AKA Villainborg (created by @drc00l4tt4) NOTES- refuses to let me put him as a witty nickname, but i did it in secret anyway, and apparently, he’s a supervillain too

“opposite me” AKA SK PPV (created by me!) NOTES- takes after blunder sometimes, even though he’s really nice

“guilt issues” AKA Guilt Ridden Melvin (created by @airim2023) NOTES- i don't like to bother him, he sure seems to be going through it, man

“original? I think?” AKA Book Melvin NOTES- actually he’s specifically known as the ‘book version’, whatever that means

“show?” AKA Show Melvin NOTES- no witty nickname, idk what else to call him

“original borg” AKA Melvinborg NOTES- cocky bastard and I kinda admire him for that ngl “my borg” AKA Borg (created by me!) NOTES- my future self, call only if there’s an emergency

“anti-humor boy” AKA Movie Melvin NOTES- apparently he’s the ‘movie version’??? again, I still have no clue what that means

“sneedly” AKA GP Melvin (created by @n4talia-chaparro) NOTES- very very sweet, i just have to be careful abt messaging him because his krupp can and will kill me if he finds out about our chats “sneedborg” AKA GP Melvinborg (created by @n4talia-chaparro) NOTES- barely ever online and has notifications off at all times, just in case

“opposite original” AKA PPV Melvin NOTES- he’s nice enough, even if there’s barely any braincells in that empty head of his

“alien barista” AKA Livmen NOTES- he acts like he's been conditioned to follow orders, which tracks, bc according to villainborg he was enslaved a while???

“egyptian original?” AKA Melvinites NOTES- can’t be bothered to spell his dumbass name right now, i'll figure it out later

“eat the rich” AKA Melvinport Sneedlyfeller III NOTES- his name is so fucking long, plus he gets annoying QUICK when you ACTUALLY have to deal with him

“snelvin” AKA Bizarro Melvin NOTES- try to dumb stuff down for him, he is NOT good at deducing things, and honestly, I really should know this by now

“professor s” AKA Professor Sneedly (created by @warrior-of-waistbands) NOTES- very clearly does NOT like kids and also refuses to let me give him a witty nickname

“hypno” AKA Hypnostuck Melvin (created by @somepancakeonline5377) NOTES- i think he's magical or something??? and apparently he’s from a game called homestuck????

“hypnoborg” AKA Hypnostuck Melvinborg (created by @somepancakeonline5377) NOTES- im not allowed to block him for his insane ass plans for some reason??? i dunno why though, his plans are probably the most flawed out of everyone's, ngl

“nuclear nerd” AKA Chemical Overdose Melvin (created by @dib-thing-wannabe) NOTES- this kid has fucking superpowers from nuclear waste??? and I thought MY universe was weird

“90’s ‘cool dude’ stereotype” AKA Broski Melvin NOTES- pretty cool I guess, but some of his lingo makes me physically cringe at times.

“she-devil” AKA Merlin Sneedly (created by @bluartist) NOTES- acts like show, but is a girl, and i'm pretty sure that’s basically the only real difference not much to say here about her

“hellraiser” AKA Merlinborg (created by @bluartist) NOTES- merlin’s version of borg, so just borg, but a girl, basically not much to say here about her, either

“rebel roboticist” AKA Redux Robotix Melvin (created by @sketch-twentytwo) NOTES- follows the rules but doesn’t seem to find the adults all that trustworthy???

“mythbusters wannabe” AKA Lab Comix Inc Melvin (created by @infinitree) NOTES- into pranking and tends to see impossible things as a challenge, when they really REALLY aren’t

[nerdieforpedro]

A Walk with your Pilot

Security Log Drabbles part of the Secret Springs Shenanigans

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: It’s been slow for security, until a silent partner makes her presence known and a new Marcus is discovered. Chloe tried to apologize to Frankie.

Warnings: possible kidnapping, allusions to smut, banana 🍌, Frankie being a sweetheart, Ezra being a scoundrel but also that money 💰

Word Count: 1k+ (an actual Drabble!)

Notes: I made liberal use of @pedropascalito ‘s wonderful Ezra Moodboard. Ezra is a scoundrel in this one, but in their Moodboard he’s a sweetheart. The counter is totally legit, this version of Ezra is Nerdie aka NP’s fault. 👀

Main Masterlist/ Frankie Morales Masterlist

My security logs have been scant…not for lack of reporting. Everyone is well behaved, enjoying themselves. It’s very good, meaning less work for all of us, though I have a few concerns.

Our silent business partner, let’s call her NP. She apparently was at the Secret Springs without giving me or Dave a heads up, she also took a third Marcus who came down from one of the surrounding mountain ranges (that is a mystery on its own) for an interrogation and neither of them have been seen for the last few days. Then suddenly this morning, the third Marcus is sipping orange juice with the Mayor and the other two Marcus’s. Dave and I were perplexed and the only message we got from NP was:

He’s solid. He’s firm. He responded appropriately. He’s got quite an appetite. I handed him over to the Mayor in good condition.

I’m not an idiot, but I’m also pretty sure that kind of questioning (if you can even call it that) is entirely illegal. Roman Marcus doesn’t appear to have any complaints and says a real man shows you better than he tells you. I did not need to hear those words while he’s eating a banana shirtless but I’ll tell him I will keep that in mind. Mayor El says happy for all of our through work. I can only nod and take the compliment. It’s only been a week here.

Speaking of, I took Frankie to lunch to apologize for trying to go through his belongings and passing out drunk in his room. Neither were my best moments. I try to explain that I am a sane person, but the quizzical look he gives me informs me otherwise.

“Most people would try to be nice to the guy flying them halfway across the world. Or at least be more discreet about it. Are you sure this is the job for you querida (sweetheart)?”

“That’s why I’m taking you to lunch to apologize. That’s nice and I am excellent at my job! You’re the problem, I’ve been off kilter trying to-“ He’s sitting across from with his arms crossed, a slight lean and his lips curling into a grin. I feel like calling him a jerk, but he’s just being himself I assume. I can’t fault him for that. “Never mind. Just, see you around Frankie.” Retreat is always a viable option and one which I plan to use as I get up from the table. He grabs the hem of my white blouse, it’s lose and my yellow bathing suit is sticking out of the top near my neck.

“Hold on there Chloe, how about we go for a walk? You can do some more rounds and we can talk. Ask me anything you want to know.” His suggestion is a good one, but I should stay focused. But also maybe be a little selfish on my part. I agree and we begin our stroll.

I soon forget how nervous Frankie made me originally. He explains that he settled in Florida after serving with the Special Forces during his time in the military. One of his brothers in arms recommended this gig to not only make some extra money but for him to get away from usual business back home. Morales said that it was nice not having to worry about gators at all.

We passed by Ezra’s Beach Shop and I said hello. That usually leads to at least a five minute description from the owner about everything that could have happened this morning. Today’s answer was not a ramble but succinct, curious, I asked him if anything was the matter and he replied there was not. Suddenly, two women pop up from under the counter which he was seated behind. One bumped her head and both stared at Frankie and I. They each kissed Ezra’s cheek and left him some money on the counter, carrying a small plastic bag each with them. About twenty dollars from each woman.

“Should I even ask if that’s the stuff you keep under the counter that they just paid for in addition to the small items they have?”

Ezra scratches the exposed part of his chest above where his tank top scoops down. He’s never not sweaty, to be fair it is hot. He stands and thankfully his dark green trunks are not disheveled. He gathers the money with his one hand and plops it in a lock box he has next the small register. “The ladies were sought out some shelter from the blistering sun and I did not have ample room under my umbrella. I did advise against going under the counter but that is what they chose.” He presses his palm on the counter and snickers, “As to why they left me such a large tip, I cannot say. You’re well acquainted with my gift of gab, they also could have taken pity on an unfortunate man such as myself.” His explanation is hot air, but he adds a wiggle of his right residual limb to add to his point.

I know there’s no merit in arguing with him, whatever happened, I didn’t see it directly. “Keep your tips to the monetary kind Ezra. I’ll be back.”

“And I will look forward to it my dear straight laced Chloe. Enjoy your time with your gentleman here. Maybe he’ll introduce you to a tip.” Ezra ends as we walk away.

Frankie looks back and the shopkeeper waves goodbye. “Seems pretty cheap for your tip there. Maybe they didn’t get enough bang for their buck.” His snicker makes me lean on the nearest tree in laughter while I hear Ezra click his tongue in annoyance.

I like Frankie even more, he managed to get the last word in on Ezra.

Those who may adopt the M.O.P method: @maggiemayhemnj @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @undercoverpena @megamindsecretlair

@fhatbhabiee @tinytinymenace @morallyinept @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

@inept-the-magnificent @604to647

Ending day seven log:

Violence - None

Public intoxication - None

Public Nudity - None (still suspicious of what goes on under that counter)

Destruction of Property - None

Injuries: Minor = possibly 10+ (I only saw Roman Marcus’ upper body. It was a mix of old and new marks. I’ll have to reach out to NP later)

Chlóe’s well-being: On the mend. Turns out lunch and walks are solid remedies

Security Log One. Security Log Three

[human-sweater-vest]

hi welcome back to me once again screaming about our flag means death and its use of gnossienne no. 5. heads up for spoilers for the first three episodes of season two and each episode the theme pops up in going forward.

cool cool cool. so it's been established that gnossienne no. 5 is the love theme for ed and stede as it was used during many of the pivotal moments of their relationship in season one. I'll do a brief recap but for a post breaking that down more see this bad boy.

the main thing with my previous analysis is that the instruments and tone changed each time the song came in, sometimes being loud and brash, other times being a whisper in the back of a quiet realization. therefore, I was so incredibly excited to see if/when/how it made its reappearance in season two. below is a compilation I'll update with each episode .

episode one and two don't have any use of it as far as I caught on my first watch through. please let me know if you catch it!

episode three:

5:40 - when stede boards the revenge for the first time after ed destroys it. he's looking for his love and it makes sense that this would be our first instance of the song in the season so far. however, the slow and almost hesitant piano of the song is cut off by the sheer destruction of the ship. we know how much the revenge means to stede, it was his lifeline and his home and the place he and ed found their love for each other. naturally it being destroyed would halt the music. it's also fun that we make it all the way to episode three without it appearing because that's when ed makes his first appearance in season one. good symmetry. good soup.

12:35 - when stede enters the captain's quarters alone to clean up the daggers the song comes in and we hear the iconic melody instead of just the notes leading up to it. he's fully allowing himself to stew in the mess the man he loves has made and how he's a direct cause of it. the main part starts as the camera shifts to a dagger right before stede pulls it out, perhaps indicating that their love has wounded them. he knows that ed is gone but the crew hasn't revealed where or why. the music then ends on a sour note and cuts out as izzy starts to speak, breaking the spell as he's confronted with the reality of one of the people who has been both complicit and victimized by ed's breakdown.

16:06 - as stede admits to zheng yi sao that he feels like he's the cause of ed's destructive streak and that he let him down, the theme once again comes in, this time softer than the previous two appearances in the episode. notably it's also piano, keeping in line the same tonal theme of simplicity and hesitance. it once again runs its course until an interruption happens with auntie bursting in to announce that she found "the jackpot" aka a dying ed stored in the secret room.

episode four:

00:00 - right at the start as ed is coming back to life. it ends abruptly as ed hits stede in the face, showing us that things aren't going to be all lovey dovey.

26:05 - it starts as ed says "buttons, people don't change" (before buttons turns into a seagull, proving this to be false). this is a really important one for several reasons. the first of which being that stede has once again left him alone in the woods, but this time he comes back for ed. ed is confronted with change, assured by it, things can be better. the second and infinitely more exciting to me, is the fact that this version is played on the harpsichord. where did we hear the harpsichord version last? the bathtub scene of season one, when ed decides to change for the first time. when he trusts stede to change with him.

episode five:

26:03- "you wear fine things well" part two. y'all. Y'ALL. it's the same exact version as the first time this scene happened. the critical difference is that they're experiencing it as reality and not a lovestruck delusion. they're flawed and fucked up and the moon isn't as full but the song is still the same. they're still in love.

episode eight:

12:10 - "I feel it in my soul, a love like ours can't disappear in an instant" Y'ALL I FUCKING CALLED IT I KNEW WE'D GET A BIGGER ORCHESTRATION OF THE SONG. we have strings as well as the piano and the theme is joyful and beautiful and reflecting that ed finally admits to himself that he loves stede. this is it. I'm buying dinner and going feral as my original tags promised. y'all this season was a doozy and you can best believe that if we get a season three I will be losing my noodle on how they decide to orchestrate the final usage of this song.

[bitimdrake]

Do you have fic recs by any chance? You really seem to have a lot of comics knowledge so I trust that you know what’s accurate to the source material and what’s not :)

you know I've gotten a few asks about this and I never quite manage to answer them, because I'm always convinced that I will somehow end up with a perfect and complete rec list if only I wait to reply just a little longer.

SO I'm gonna try cutting myself off at the head this time, and not giving you a prefect list by any means, but at least giving you an answer:

Here is a collection that I'm slowly forming for fics that really feel like they're actually based off comics. It is currently very small and people are welcome to bookmark to it if they find other very comics-based fics, but it's a start.

And a couple random recs as I scroll through my personal bookmarks:

Redrawing the Lines (11k) is fantastic Batman Reborn era Dick & Tim & Damian fic, and it continues as a series after.

also the second before the other shoe drops (8k) about the same trio. AU where Damian makes a murder attempt in a subtler way--but most important, is not demonized by a narrative that instead gives everyone a fair shake.

will we ever get to the other side? (5k) Dick & Tim in a very specific era where Dick's life is falling apart and filled with trauma, and Tim has just been hit with a huge smack of grief and also trauma, and neither is at their best but they're trying.

Everything by @silverwhittlingknife is ideal Dick & Tim content, and all deeply rooted in comics. I will call out:

The Return (11k), which is Dick's pov of Tim coming back to Gotham after Brucequest

only you will have stars that can laugh (9k) which is sad and loney but also sweet on Christmas

Red Letter Day (42k, wip) in which god Dick is trying his fucking best to hold it together okay. (aka everyone is kind of prickly, Dick is stressed, there's a Mysterious Wednesday of unclear importance, and I love them sm)

@flybynightwing has equally comics-based and also absolutely fascinating and compelling fics. I'll call out:

How Far Love Goes (99k) a case fic that draws in everyone in the bat family, with a tilt towards Dick (although the Steph is also fantastic), and turns into a reflection on Bruce as a parent.

goal-oriented mindset (5k) Catalina's pov, meeting Dick again well after everything went down. Subject may not be for you, but I find it SO interesting and roll it around and around in my head. (And it is of the very very rare selection of actually comics-based fics about that arc.)

It's a Wonderful Earth-218 (7k). A thoroughly depressed Dick goes to a world where he was never born, it's a wonderful life-style.

(And carrying on with various authors again:)

Hate and Love are Two Sides of the Same Coin (5k + 13k sequel) every member of his family is forced to say what they like least about Dick. The fic makes no secret of its thoroughly contrived premise and doesn't particularly care to justify it either, but still comes out with great characterization and relationship reflections.

Mikey Dies At The End (4k), outsider pov centered around Jason as the Red Hood, which is so very confident in its characterization of him and has zero considerations given to fanon and it's an excellent read.

A Meditation on Railroading (24k), a Tim-centric fic that deals heavily with his relationship with his dad. This one is not really canon at all, but it is good, and its version of the relationship is compelling.

Young Justice Visit the Suez Canal (3k) look this one is pure 90s-style Young Justice humor. We're here for a good time.

Aaand I know there are many more good fics, but I have run out of steam and I am trying so so hard to remember that some answer is better than no answer. Though I am very sorry to all my beloved writers & mutuals who have written excellent comics fic.

Anyway final tip is when you find an author who knows what they're talking about, go through all their fics, and then go through all their bookmarks.