#also the next step is getting into speedrunning

[jorvikzelda]

finally got the last hk ending (delicate flower) yesterday. beat absrad with a single mask left - I was counting hits because I was so sure I only needed 9 with the nail (with unbreakable strength) in the last phase, got up to like 12 hits or somethjng and went “why is she not dying??”, Panicked, got hit by an orb and went down to one mask, then hit her twice more in one go (quickslash i Love You) and that was it. Felt fucking fantastic. I am never doing pantheons again

[al-luviec]

Here is lady pics from when I was MIA

[theminecraftbee]

Pearl stops and stares once she gets to the front of the line at the Hermitopia Permit Office. She’s here to renew her ID, since she’s required to have a valid driver’s license for her mail carrier job she’s only recently moved here. Normal stuff, really. If it weren’t for the secret of why she’d actually moved to town, she’d have probably taken the license photo, filled out the paperwork, and left.

She is not here for a mail carrier job, and she can see things no one else in line can.

“I know, I know, I have a very beautiful face,” says the demon at the counter in the flattest affect Pearl has heard in her life. “Look, lady, there’s a line and I want to be on break, so if you’re going to sexually harass me or something can you hurry up and speedrun through doing it?“

She also doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“What?” she says.

“I mean, you’re staring at me awfully closely,” the demon says. “What am I supposed to assume? Surely you know that’s rude.”

“I’m not into men,” Pearl instantly lies for absolutely no reason.

“Okay? I don’t need to know that for your driver’s license?” the demon says.

“Right. Um,” Pearl says. She’s a little reluctant to hand the plastic sandwich bag she’d put her proof of address in over to a demon. If she’d just been a mail carrier and couldn’t See, it would be one thing, but she simply hadn’t been expected to come across the consequences of Hermitopia’s rumored hellmouth so immediately.

Or so…

The demon sighs again with an impressive amount of passive-aggression.

Pearl slides the documents to him. She watches as the demon gives everything several once-overs. He’s neither seemed to have noticed that she’s a psychic or that she’s a hunter. If anything, he seems to be trying his level best to avoid doing anything other than playing with several small desk nicknacks he has. One appears to be a magic eight ball shaped like a robot. Another appears to be a miniature game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. Yet another appears to be some kind of controller for the painfully inoffensive music the permit office plays.

Frankly, they’re all almost as distracting as the eyes that cover every inch of the demon’s body that isn’t wearing the permit office uniform. The eyes glow, faint and unsettling. They move as though on a higher framerate than the universe, giving a strange, out-of-sync effect with the way the demon otherwise moves. They make Pearl’s heart pound.

Hermitopia Hellmouth. It’s real. It’s real.

The demon gives her paperwork back. “You’ll be mailed a new license at some point. Here’s the temp. Have a day or whatever.”

“Thanks, er…” She squints at his name tag. It’s in deliberately small font. “Grian?”

Grian waves her off. “If my boss gets mad I’ll tell him it’s your fault I’m not meeting KPIs. Go away.”

“Your boss must be tough,” Pearl says.

There is a long, eerie silence.

“Cub would have Stared back. I’m not paid to bother. Learn to shield better. Next.”

Pearl stands still for a beat too long before stepping out of line, clutching her temporary license in hand. The worst part is that she has to wait for the permanent one, and they’ll only mail it to the physical address she gave them. That’s the thing about government-issued IDs; they care where you physically are.

She breathes. The world’s been overwhelming since she’s learned to See, but her new organization has helped a lot. Now, she has an opportunity to help back, here in Hermitopia.

Pearl owes nothing less than her best, presuming the demons don’t come to the address they apparently have in the night, now that they know she’s here, and she knows they are. She shudders, deeply unsettled. She knows she will not sleep tonight.

(After all, for a moment—a single, horrifying, terrible moment—those hundreds of demonic eyes had seemed kind.)

[carmenlikeme]

CHAPTER TWO: OH, WHAT A SIN!

COWBOY LIKE ME: A JACK ABBOT SERIES.

pairing: Jack Abbot x rescuer!reader

summary: After an unexpected storm hits Pittsburgh, the entire city stops. Floodings and destruction everywhere. Jack ends up trapped for two days at PTMC. When he's finally allowed to be outside, he ends up at the frontlines of the disaster, back to his MASH unit days. Abbot works right next to the rescuers, helping them stabilize patients before they reach the hospital. He meets an interesting person amongst the rescuers, and the magnetic pull is too hard to ignore. Will he give in?

OR

Where Jack Abbot meets an eccentric doctor in the middle of a catastrophe, and finds light in one of the darkest places imaginable.

genre: fem! reader (no physical descriptions) romance, slowburn (on paper, speedrun irl), hurt/comfort, breakup, happy ending (?), sprinkled comedy, idk what else, highly medically inaccurate, heavy dialogue for the first chapters.

wc: 2.6k words

warnings: age gap (reader is in her late 20s, jack late 40s), major natural disaster, medical trauma, PTSD, mentions of war and violent situations, graphic depiction of injuries, mentions of COVID and death. Will edit as I write more.

a/n: this is a short transition chapter compared to the next one, I just couldn't get past this scene without feeling stuck, I hope the next one is longer but I also hope u like what I got for u!! and yes, another nod to a song in the title!

you can find the masterlist HERE!

It took him almost twenty minutes to start talking about her to Robby, as soon as he got back from the disaster zone late at night.

They managed to take a couple of minutes for themselves on the roof, standing awkwardly as the huge puddles of water didn’t give them enough room to sit down anywhere. They wouldn’t have, even if they could. The air felt cold on their cheeks, the occasional mist soothing them. Grounding them.

“I met someone,” he whispered, his hands squeezed together. “One of the rescuers.”

Robby understood what he meant immediately. He tilted his head the same way he does when he can’t read the expression on one of his residents. Abbot didn’t look up from the ground; he couldn’t.

“She’s so reckless. I could barely do a physical on her,” he continued.

There was so much he wanted to say about her, but he couldn’t.

“It’s like…” he started, but fell short. “Like I couldn’t get away from her. We barely talked, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Finally, he looked up. Robby’s expression was tender, with a hint of amusement, but his lips seemed to hide something; he was holding back a laugh.

“Remember all those years you said love at first sight doesn’t exist?” he asked carefully. Anything more, and he’d burst out laughing. “I think that came to bite you in the ass.”

“Hey, when you met Collins, it was like the revival of Jane Austen. You can’t blame me for saying you were a little too crazy for her,” Jack said, playfully defensive.

Robby laughed and pushed him away.

“This isn’t the same.”

“You’re right, brother. It’s worse.”

“Thought you wouldn’t show up,” Abbot spoke up as he walked into the room.

He already had his gloves on as he approached the gurney, carefully. One hand held a hospital tablet; the other was hidden in his pocket. His steps were measured, as if he were stepping into a wild animal’s cage.

Maybe he was. He didn’t know at this point.

“What can I say? I keep my promises,” she smiled brightly at Jack, the same smile that had made him lose sleep less than twelve hours ago. “It’s not like I was threatened or something.”

“Threaten you? Who did that?” He put on his stethoscope, trying — and failing — to hide his mischievous grin.

She put the book to the side as he pressed the cold stethoscope to her chest. She was oddly still. He glanced at her as he focused. She already had her suit on, only zipped halfway. For some reason, he couldn’t stop looking at her boots. He found it awfully endearing how she always managed to sneak some pink into her daily life.

This time: the pink laces on her work boots.

“Oh, you know. A hot doctor, you probably know him. He said if I didn’t show up at seven in the morning, he’d hunt me down for sport or something.”

She stopped talking and took deep breaths. Jack moved the stethoscope slowly, like he didn’t want the moment to end.

When he didn’t move, she took another deep breath without question. Her eyes wandered as she tried to find something to focus on in the meantime, but all she got were several curious eyes on her from outside the room. She smiled and waved a hand at them.

Jack looked in her direction, not stopping the exam, which made all of them scurry away immediately, just from his gaze.

“Are you tormenting interns, Dr. Abbot?” she tried to laugh, but was interrupted by a slightly painful cough. “I didn’t think you were one of those attendings.”

“Those attendings? What does that mean?” he asked, a smirk showing up on his face, one that remained even when Mateo entered the room.

“Mateo will take your vitals. I’ll be back in a second.”

“Oh, you’re leaving me so early?” she complained.

Jack rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the room, nodding as he went.

He made sure to take his time as he walked toward the nurse station. Dana was in the middle, typing at the computer with determination. Behind her, Perlah and Princess shared a snack, their eyes now laser-focused on him. Robby stood behind them.

He almost turned back.

“Hey Dana, can I get a peak flow for South 15?” he asked.

Dana looked up over her glasses for a second and huffed.

“Sure. Want an EKG too? Maybe a stress test while we’re at it?”

Robby took off his glasses as he realized what the conversation was about and walked away. First, he took a quick peek at the room before looking back at Dana and Jack, who were still discussing hypothetical tests they could give the rescuer, afraid he’d get caught.

He opened the door as Mateo took her vitals.

“Abbot said he wants a CBC as well, please.” Mateo nodded. “How are we doing?”

“Did Dr. Abbot ditch me already?” she tilted her head slightly, looking behind him.

“I’m okay. I’d be better if I could leave.”

“Yeah, but we have to cover our bases before we let you out.”

Robby didn't put on his gloves — he already sensed Jack coming back to the room from a mile away.

And he was right. Just a few seconds later, Jack walked back in. He barely looked at Robby, who stepped back to allow him to continue the exam.

Jack didn’t speak; his hands traveled to the rescuer's neck to check it. Then, just like last time, his right hand held her chin.

“Open up,” he ordered.

She smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Now.”

“Is he always this bossy?” she asked, but obeyed immediately. 

Robby didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at Mateo with raised eyebrows. Mateo held back a laugh.

Abbot didn’t bother to notice them; he was solely focused on her. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared.

“He’s not usually this bossy. I think he’s just worried,” Robby finally said.

He watched as Mateo drew her blood, like a scaredy-cat ready to jump away at any second.

She barely noticed; her whole attention was on Jack, who was now checking her pupils and had moved down to her abdomen without question.

It was clear she couldn’t care less about anyone else in the room.

“Would you be willing to wait a little bit until we get your test results back?” He leaned in closer.

Subsequently, Robby and Mateo took a step back.

“Maybe let me put you on some oxygen while we’re at it?”

“You’re handsome, but don’t test your luck. I’m here to be cleared medically, and then I’m out. But I’ll visit you later, how does that sound?”

She pinched his scrubs, daring him to get closer.

“My crew is waiting outside, too.”

“Do you ever stop?” Jack squinted, his hands coming to her shoulders to lay her back on the gurney.

“Do you?” she asked back.

By that point, Mateo and Robby had managed to leave the room without anyone noticing. The conversation felt too intense for their liking. Robby was sure he wasn’t as shameless as Jack, even with Heather.

“Mateo, get back in there, we need intel!” Princess hissed, already pushing him back toward the room.

“No fucking way. They’re about to make out, no thanks.”

He wriggled free from Princess and made his way toward anywhere but there.

“You go if you want to.”

“Is it that bad?” Dana asked.

She took one look at Princess before handing her the peak flow meter. Someone had to do it. Might as well get some chisme out of it.

Princess happily walked toward Bay 6. Dana, on the other hand, looked at Robby, waiting for an answer.

“He told me about her all night, how he forgot to ask for her name before doing a physical. How amazing and young she was…”

Dana looked back at the room, the one Princess was now hurriedly leaving after only a few seconds inside.

“The last time he sounded so excited about something was when I got him that medical book from England.”

“So you’re telling me that after years of us setting him up with hundreds of women, a youngster rescuer is the one to get his attention?”

They looked at each other, amused. And then, they laughed.

You could call it ironic — or ridiculous — because it felt like both.

Robby and Dana forgot how many blind dates they’d set up, how many casual meetups they’d planned… and nothing ever happened.

Dana still had a few unread messages from friends asking if her cute coworker had asked about them.

He never did.

“Thanks, Dr. Abbot. I’ll see you around!”

The rescuer waved back at the exam room and walked away before anyone could answer. Her steps were quick but not hurried.

She stopped next to Robby, a bright smile on her face as she set her backpack down on the nurse station and pulled out two huge jars of instant coffee, placing them in front of him.

“I think this is yours,” she said. Robby blinked a couple of times, shifting his gaze between her and the jars.

“Jack said you asked for coffee. My crew and I got a donation, but we don’t drink much on the clock. Consider it a trade.”

“Trade for what?” Dana asked, snatching the jars before the rescuer could take them away.

“You got any nicotine gum packs?” she whispered, leaning in. Her eyes drifted toward Abbot, who stood still, watching her.

“You got it, kiddo. Two nicotine gum packs for two jars, deal?” Dana turned around before she could see the girl nod, but still took the packs and handed them over.

The rescuer hid them immediately in her suit, just as Jack walked toward them. She smiled and grabbed her backpack. Abbot looked at her suspiciously, then at Dana.

 “Oh, I haven’t introduced myself,” she said, offering her hand to Robby after saying her name. Then she did the same with Dana and Jack, a sly smile on her face. “Since you missed it last time, Dr. Abbot.”

“Michael Robinavitch. You can call me Robby,” he smiled.

“Dana Evans. Just call me Dana, kid.”

“You told me your name already, yesterday,” Jack said under his breath.

“Yeah, after you forgot to ask for it for about six hours,” she huffed.

 The girl leaned into the nurse station toward Dana, who leaned in, curious.

“Are you the charge nurse?” she whispered. Dana nodded once more. “Okay, I need to tell you something… alone.”

“She means get lost,” Dana snapped. Both doctors stepped away immediately.

“You didn’t hear it from me. And I mean it. But we got word that this hospital could become a staging zone now that they’re clearing paths and reaching neighborhoods. Right now… if I had to guess, we’re looking at around 400 living, and I’m lowballing it.”

Dana didn’t flinch; she nodded, looking intently at the girl. “You’d be the second point of triage after field stabilization. You’re appointed for immediate care and choose who gets rerouted after we clear everything else.”

“You got it, cap.” Dana nodded. “Anything else?”

“Yes, could you give me Dr. Abbot’s number?” she whispered. Dana hit her on the shoulder, softly but hard enough to make her laugh.

“Is that a no?”

“Legally, no. But if you come back later for your results, I might give him a five-minute break with you,” Dana suggested.

The girl smirked and took a step back. Robby and Jack took it as a sign to join the conversation again.

“Well, thank you so much. I have to get going,” she said, her walkie-talkie coming to life as if she had predicted it. “I’ll be back tonight!”

“I’ll be checking your lungs later today!” Jack yelled after her.

She turned around and waved with both hands as she disappeared.

“Something you need to tell us, Abbot?” Dana asked, walking around the nurse’s station to stand next to him.

“Like what?” he looked away. Dana and Robby shared a look.

“Like… giving special attention to a certain rescuer?” Robby leaned into Jack, who rolled his eyes and took a step back. “I’m just saying.”

“I can’t help people now?” Jack turned around, squinting as a laugh left his lips.

He walked away, still looking over his shoulder as he found something to get busy with.

“You think I can get him to admit he has a crush?” Robby quipped.

“No time for that. That girl just told me we won the grand prize of being the staging zone for Pittsburgh,” Dana whispered, loud enough for Robby to hear. “So, how much time do we have?”

“If we’re lucky, six hours. But if they’re already weighing options, I’d say about three.” Robby grabbed one of the phones and bit the inside of his cheek as he waited for an answer. “Hey, Gloria. We have a situation.”

Four hours and seventeen minutes later, the hospital was chaos.

Abbot made sure to wake every single member of his staff after discussing the course of action. This time, he was able to explain more about what would happen. The hospital was not a staging zone, which meant they were now in charge of triage and patient flow; who stays, who moves, who gets treatment, and who needs urgent medevac because of their limitations. It was a highly risky and stressful role.

He was sure his staff would rise to the occasion. But somehow, the stranger still lingered in his mind.

Still, he managed to set a sleep schedule good enough for everyone. So, when Shen woke up at 2 PM after sleeping a little too long, he almost forced Jack to take a nap.

This time, he did sleep. Exhaustion took over as his face hit the pillow of the surprisingly empty call room. He didn’t set an alarm, knowing that Shen could hold the hospital on his back and then some. But as his police scanner slowly picked up a signal again, he left it on, using it as white noise to keep him asleep.

Four hours later, he woke up like a new man. Any sense of doom inside him was gone. He finally ate the burrito he had taken from the Topos the day before, feeling like he could conquer the world again. He chewed slowly, trying to catch anything on the scanner, but nothing came up. Although the police were absolutely overwhelmed with problems, Jack knew they were most likely having conversations in person.

Begrudgingly, he made his way toward the emergency department again. He missed that brief moment upon waking when nothing worried him but the warmth of the bed and the comfort of a pillow. He blinked slowly; the fluorescent lights hurt his eyes every time he walked in. Robby was nowhere to be seen, nor was Dana.

Shen stood in the middle of the room, talking with Mary, their new night shift charge nurse. He looked up and threw a peace sign at Jack before turning around to check on a patient.

The ED was calm. As calm as it could be in a moment like that. He sneaked up to Mary, looking around as if he were smuggling drugs before opening a drawer and grabbing a fistful of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. Mary raised an eyebrow.

“Stealing now, Dr. Abbot?” she whispered. In exchange, he gave her one of the chocolates and stuffed the rest into his cargo pants.

“Shh. You cover for me, and I’ll ask Gloria if you can wear your pink scrubs,” he promised. She nodded eagerly.

“It’s a deal, then.”

“Oh, by the way,” she said, loosely pointing toward the ambulance bay. “That girl you mentioned last night is outside. She’s clear medically and explicitly asked not to see you.”

“Got it,” he whispered, grabbing his stethoscope. “I’ll be right back.”

“Of course you will.”

© CARMENLIKEME 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

[writingmochi]

cast: jay ✗ fem.reader (ft. riize's wonbin, aespa’s ningning, enhypen and &team’s 02 liners, and riize's hyung line)

synopsis: jay has always been a loomer, an introvert, and an outsider in a group of people others presumed were bad. looming in the shadows in the corner of the parties full of drinks, drugs, and sex, can only be seen with the flame of his cigarette in the dark. out of the blue, an orange flame is ignited in the dark corner, creating a silhouette of another person, another loomer, standing beside him

genre: lonely people in neon cities, drama, romance, early 00s au, angst, mature content (consumption of drugs, explicit smut)

inspired by: music my bloody valentine's "loomer" (1991) (genre: dream pop/shoegaze), movie fallen angels (1995) and millennium mambo (2001)

word count: 28896 (28.8k)

warning(s): domestic abuse, sexual assault (groping), toxic relationship (not jay), infidelity (not jay), possessive behaviour, bruises and wounds, drug consumption (cigarette and alcohol, mention of ecstasy and marijuana), mention of suicide attempt, implication of alcohol amnesia (black out), explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex but also love making, manhandling, hand job (m & f received), oral job (f receive), creampie (if there is something i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

welcome! will be speedrunning the notes: this is set in seoul year 2000-2001 so there’ll be mentions of the 1997 asian financial crisis, BUT since i was born in 2003 and am an asian whose country was affected by the crisis—but not a korean, it’s not gonna be 100% accurate. though, I’ve tried my best with my research, especially regarding the culture of that time. also, this is, more or less, a character study for the main leads so it will be a layer-by-layer discovery from their povs. this is also part of my closed milestone collab "discover: 200" which you can check out! enjoy :D p.s. wear helmets when riding motorcycles!

playlist | visualizer part of the loveless anthology | an entry for equinox: the escapist

even under the closed lids of his eyes, jay could still see the dancing lights contrasting from the darkness.

the sound of the electro music playing shakes his surroundings, joined by the shuffling of people's feet in any open space that they could step in whatever the space's size. a microcosm of the crowds at the night market outside, or even the microcosm of the seoul metropolitan city. his heart beats with the bass thumping from the nearby speaker—transferring the sonic waves of the disc jockey performing on stage across the room. his ears are picking up the grainy scratch of the vinyl disc as the needle reads the printed sound wave, a slightly twangy pitch rising as the bpm gets faster and faster to make the transition to the next track seamless. cheers and exclaims follow from the young people who just a few years ago have just grown into adulthood alongside the new millennium, dancing the night away as they consume any experimental thing they're brave enough to do, even if they might regret it the next day.

jay should also do so. but he is a loomer.

a term coined by himself; an obvious answer to tell if someone asks him what he is doing most of the time. wallflower was a term he defined himself most in his younger years, as it was the only relatable word for him, but he doesn't think he is a flower of some sort. a flower blooms and reacts when the light shines on it. he, on the other hand, takes steps away so as to not be under a small sliver of it. the splash of the club's neon lights is making jay feel farther and farther away from the four walls of the club, mentally and physically. yet he preferred that to the day's sun. he's glad that he can walk around the night as it still acts like the rest of the day; business are doing their best as they recover from the financial crisis that happened before the turn of the century.

the shadow is jay's only haven against the piercing tints of hues that lift the club's atmosphere. just like it, his muted demeanour exudes a mystic aura to anyone around him. no one other than his gang and his family has ever heard him speak. his facial expressions are animated enough to tell what he's thinking—if they can read it under the obscurity of the shadow and the commotion. his black attire from head to toe definitely helps with it too, letting him blend more into the night, even underneath the neon signs of the streets; both from walking on the pavement or reflected on the body of his trusted kawasaki ninja bike.

the moisture produced from his closed eyes makes his vision blurry when he slowly opens them. the sporadically moving spotlights shine their colour-changing beam all around the crowded room. people rubbing against each other—well, grinding for the people who he can predict will end the night together—following the rhythm of the track playing as clouds of white smoke and splashes of alcoholic beverage exude from them. scents of people's sweat combining as they move their heads and bodies along, between them being sober, drunk, or intoxicated by a more dangerous chemical drug like ecstasy. he tried said drug once. and he swore to never try it again after he didn't sleep for the next 24 hours. just like the name "ecstasy" entails; being too high on the substance and it makes him not his usual gloomy self—something he hates to think about after his drug trip. his ribs showed prominently as his sober self felt how sweaty his upper body was all over his skin, never stopping until the chemical was gone from his body from dancing and drinking. even though jay says no after that trip, his friends are still doing so as he's alright with his alcohol and cigarettes—sometimes a joint of weed if nicholas gets a few rolls.

even with the darkness covering most of the club, his eyes have adapted to the dark and can still detect where his friends are: nicholas trading with someone at a pillar beside the bar, jake and euijoo enjoying the girls that their booth's "regulars" every time he and his friends come, while sunghoon is openly making out on the dance floor with a girl he recognized to be the guy's ex-fling. while his friends are doing their usual shenanigans, here he is: in his dark corner, hiding from everyone. each time one of the regular girls comes to sit at his gang's regular booth, his alert self always stands up to walk to his usual spot in the corner—which usually does not take long at all because they could even come before his drink is being served. jay still wonders how his gang still wants him within them, even with his more closed-off demeanour. wealth seems to not be a problem as he recognises his friends are also people with easy access to money—all of them meeting each other when enrolling in an international school throughout their school days—and power is also not it when the balance seems to be fair for all five of the gang. maybe the diversity of personalities is what makes them let him stay; being the only one openly closed off even among the introverts in his gang; which are him, euijoo, and sunghoon.

shaking his head as he lets his thoughts float away, jay pulls out the recognisable thick paper box from one of his pant pockets, flipping the top open as he pulls one small yet long cylinder out. replacing it with a small boxy shape, his calloused fingertip rubs against the lighter wheel before flicking it, seeing the spark fly before the rest of the orange flame lights up as he inhales while placing the flame on the tip. the hot and bitter smoke scratches the back of his mouth when he puts out the fire and pulls the cigarette away from between his lips, slightly opening his mouth as the smoke floats outside of him, even outside of his shadowy corner as the spotlight goes through it. yet, no one seems to notice him at all—a small smile tugging the corner of his lips when he also realised that.

jay's body returns to its original position: leaning against the graffiti-covered wall of the corner as he lets his vision continue on his usual observation night by night, puffing it up and returning it to the side of his body in the usual intervals he often does whenever he smokes. the flying acid-scented haze filters what he sees as his eyes stuck on the booth where his friends are now sitting—both nicholas and sunghoon have returned to join jake and euijoo. all four of them now playing a drinking game along with the girls who seem to snuggle up on the over-capacity semi-circle of the booth's velvet seat. he can see the orange flame crawling inside the cigarette below him as he flicks the burnt ash onto the dirty concrete floor.

then, a small spotlight is suddenly on him, making the boy grimace for a split second from the unexpected shine. anyone might intend to focus on it and find him as a result, but jay didn't detect any signs of that. his friends do just that as he usually sees them looking towards his way once every few minutes, the same drunk-like smiles showing from all of them as they take turns to take a shot from whatever drinking game they're playing. even with it, he can't help the other thoughts from within his mind's vault creeping in. how his friends might let him go someday; how he will be teased again for his quiet demeanor, like what he experienced back in his school years; and many more troubling thoughts that have summed up in his mind since he could remember. he has buried them as best as he can. but a minuscule crack is always enough for it to leak back into his conscious mind.

the flame that illuminates a fraction of his being is enough to let the world know he exists; even with the thoughts clouding his mind. stress and burden seemed to fall away in tiny bits as he could see the flame coming closer and closer to the fingers that he pinched the stick in between. under the layers of booming music from the speaker and his free hand wrapping in front of his torso, he hears a small click and a small orange light coming from the dark side, where it was supposed to be the deepest part of his shadowy blanket.

a trembling breath, a puff, and a hot cloud that flies in front of him later, jay finally turns his head around to follow the trail of smoke and sound.

"fuck! sorry for startling you."

the low-volumed sound waves interact with him first as jay looks to the other orange flame on the blunt end, seeing its source behind the faint light coming from the lit up cig. a tint of green coming from the spotlight beam adds to the visage as it captures one side of the person's face clearer. there is also something glimmering under the light before the beam turns away once again to the heads in the crowd.

"and for smoking…" the person's speaking pace slows, the hand holding the stick suspended in the air. the person's eyes find the boy's more visible side coming from where he is positioned. the dancing crowd becomes a background of his presence as the person, you, are deeper in the corner; resting your head on the other wall that connects the corner together. a few of the light beams that reach behind his head can still help you make out his facial features.

sharp. fierce. cold.

you watch him let out a smirk, one corner of his lips lifted, creating a charming yet smug smile, as he lifts his other hand up and you recognise that burnt tip anywhere, nearly finished as the fire almost meets his skin. he's not flinching even with the warmth inching closer and closer, adding more to his intimidating impression.

"uh huh…" you sounded, tilted your head before nodding as you let yourself take another drag from your own cig. jay continues as he has now realised just how short the burning stick on his hand has become before putting it out by throwing it on the ground and crushing it under his shoe's sole. his hand approaches the box that he pockets and picks up another stick. but when he wants to flick the flame up from his lighter, a brighter orange light comes from beside him. cigarette between his lips, he turns once again to see you and your other hand on your lighter, the flame dancing lightly as no other breeze can affect them inside the room other than people's kinetic movement and their breaths.

pushing the end of his cig to it, jay's eyes observe you who is more visible behind the bright yet small dancing fire: pulling out your own stick from your lips as they open a little bit, letting the hot smoke out before you blow the rest to the air between the two of you. also, he could finally see the glimmering coming from you that he saw a few seconds from when the spotlight hit a tiny piece of you: the silver buckle of your black leather choker.

you quickly put out the lighter as jay discovered how burnt the wrapping paper is from staying on the fire for too long. he clears his throat before returning to inhale and exhale the smoke. from the smell of it, your cig has a hint of menthol that clashes with his woody vanilla-esque smell he loves. you must enjoy sipping a drink along with doing so as the mouth cavity does become "cooler" from the mint-on-cold combination. you were also wearing an all-black ensemble from head to toe, your hair framing your face in a perfect mix of grungy-messy but still shaped enough that it doesn't look as frantic as the other girls he saw wearing too excessive an amount of hairspray to make it puffy. your eyes, however, were moving around to see the view. but it contrasts with how slow you let the smoke out—the way your chest is on a steady, slow pace. jay's eyes return to the view outside of his dark bubble, but he couldn't let go and just ignore the presence of another human being beside him.

the beating bass still fills the room up but jay could still hear you grunt as you pull out your phone from your pocket. it vibrates against your hand as you flip the top open, skim-reading the screen before tucking it back into your pocket once again. your eyes look around in the dark before they met with his, his tongue subtly rubbing against the tar that sticks onto his teeth. your lips formed into a thin line as you threw your burnt cig onto the floor before crushing it in one go with your combat boots. blowing a strand of hair from your forehead, you lean back against the wall to breathe in the club's air—no matter how stinky it is. it all seems natural to you and similar to him. your mannerism, even in the dark, seems to naturally flow; your no-colour outfit makes you try to hide yourself even in a place like this, where someone like you is more approachable than him.

jay now realised that you are also a fellow loomer. though he doesn't know if you know what the word meant.

"sorry for startling you…" he heard mutters to see your lips move along with what you said. your voice is a tad bit raspy from the smoke burning inside. jay lets out a slow nod as your lips settle back into their original structure, a small tug on your lips.

"this is also my favorite corner every time i go here." you continue even with the few seconds of silence between the two of you. "it's dark enough that people can't see you even with one glance and it's not near any of the most populated area of the club." a regular, jay assumed, but he never saw you here before. jay does have a few places he frequents with his friends. clubs aren't his thing even if he visits them often—he prefers to hang out underneath the bridge on the side of the han river—but this is where the gang hangs out the most. a base camp of some sort. though he rests in the shadows, he could still recognise people whom he often views. but with the way your eyes are flicking around the vast chromatic space outside of the corner, you still are confused about the layout of the place. you're not a regular at all.

"though when you like standing idly in the dark, there might be someone that notices you're here…" your voice trails off, realising that you were talking to him, implicitly asking if what you said was also true to him or not. his eyes catch yours as you let your fingers rest beside you, a rhythm created from your fingertips meeting the wall while you exhale and inhale in a slow beat. eyes closing as you lick your lips. the wrinkles between your eyebrows reacting as you were thinking of something, but the way your chest sometimes still staggering in between your calm flow sets an alarm in his mind.

that's when jay heard more shuffling feet than usual around the bar and booths.

his eyes settled on his friends as they all seemed to notice it too. the girls hanging by their sides all cower closer to them as the crowd around the bar stools is still as full, but when it usually moves like the current of the river, now becomes more tense—even he could feel that by looking at their stiff shoulders. his lips pop from tasting the residue of the cigs as his eyes focus on the crowd moving unnaturally. someone must be pushing people around to go past the crowd. squinting his eyes, he could see a group trying to push towards the location where he and you are. and a glimpse of the top of the head is enough for you to grab something the nearest to you: his wrist.

the breathy sound comes back as jay looks at your darkened silhouette, eyes staring at the dispersing crowd. sensing it, you turn to him as you try to compose yourself. but the way your eyes glisten from the spotlight highlights more moisture near your tearducts that send alerts to his consciousness. still frantically looks away at the crowded space, but he sees how your jaw clenches.

"take me out of here." your sight returns to meet him and that's when he fully sees the darkness inside you. not the evil nor the lustful kind. but another intense feeling.

"please…"

fear.

jay reacts as he brushes your hand off his wrist before clasping it with his palm, fingers curling as he drags you outside into the colourful shine. the unexpected movement doesn't hurt his eyes as he sees all the colours blurry. hands locking with yours, he let his feet navigate the outskirts of the dancing crowd, stepping in front of people who were also standing by the wall. some recognise him and some aren't as he gave a small knowing nod with his resting face. his eyebrows furrowed as he saw the doorframe beside the jockey's booth. the lights were flickering on and off, but only people who recognise it can see it—even though it's obscured by the absence of the light.

your body felt light even if he dragged you, quickly adapting to his pace and the path he was taking you. your ears are getting more and more buzzed as the boy drags you closer to the speakers. but even with the bass booming, your eyes still look behind you as you catch the pair of eyes you don't want to see.

"(Y/N)!" though muffled by the music, you can still hear him scream your name as you push the boy forward, making him stagger before you return his icy gaze with your concerned ones.

as they both reach the doorframe, jay quickly wraps your shoulder with his arm as he guides you to the hallway filled with graffiti and a few people making out against each other. his eyes only saw one thing: the door with the neon green exit sign on the top. the back entrance was what the employees used, but he and his friends knew about this after they scouted the nearest exit if a police raid happened—which he had escaped from a few times. the employees doesn't even bat an eye at him as he knows how much he and the gang has spend on this establisment ever since this became their hangout spot, some of the women even give him a sly wink knowing something he subconsciously know after observing his booth so much and the girls hanging out there—thinking you were one of them.

the fresh air was a taste he missed as he stepped onto the alley right beside the dumpster. the exterior lights of some businesses don't reach deep into the alley, so they can let both of you stand and blend into the shadows. but that is still not enough when you recall the person you escaped from was following you. then, the person is definitely gonna know about this back exit.

"do you have any trans-transport?" you're holding onto your chest. "fuck- don't mind it. the subway station is near here-"

"my bike is this way." eyebrows raised, you didn't expect him to reply while jutting his chin to the road where the front door is..

the boy's voice is gravelly–influenced by the cig, but it is definitely his regular voice—but it doesn't seem as cold as his demeanour.

it's warm.

maybe the warmest voice you've heard in a while.

jay didn't see the strap of the black bag across your chest before he heard the familiar rumbling, even with the muffled song inside behind the walls. he took the initial steps when he heard your shuffling feet on the same pace as his as you both walked towards the shining neon lights decorating the street. people walking to and fro as he and you blend in perfectly under the white lights of the streetlamps. his eyes peek towards you as he can now fully see you with the light. beside the hair that covers your cheek, he can see the small strip of bandage on the cheekbone area, a scar across the bridge of your nose, and a faded bruise on the corner of your right lip. he chuckles to himself as he stops his hand before rubbing against his own bruise on his left cheekbone—a result of an altercation he had yesterday, the usual gang thing that seems so simple yet all of the people are stubborn. he also seems to be so when he can still feel the scabs on his knuckles to punch the guy that punched him before sunghoon took care of the rest.

both of you aren't that different after all.

your eyes stare at the rows of motorbikes before the boy sets his eyes on one of them. the black color of its body reflects who he is perfectly as you see him tugging his black outer closer to him, untying the black bandana tied on the handle as if to tell people that this specific bike belongs to him. the adrenaline is still flowing in you as you see him pulls the bike backward and straddles into the leather seat. the way his long legs anchor the bike to the ground as he stabilises himself, tying the bandana behind his head and covering the lower part of his face, leaving his eyes visible. the lights at the parking area shine on him and you now notice streaks of navy blue highlights on his hair. it looks like he dyed it without having to bleach it up, making it so that only people who have a keen eye can detect the two different colours.

"the name's (y/n)," you spoke out. the boy turns his head towards you when you tilt your head.

"guess i should introduce myself before you took me away." your face contorts, the pain on the right side of your lips coming up again as you hold your best to not show him that you are still hurting. the dark is friendly enough to not let people know how battered your face is. even telling people asking about you "i'm fine" is getting sickening as you try to escape people you know, especially those who also know him.

"jay," you pick up as he gazes at you before signalling to the space on the seat behind him. you give a small smile as you pluck a cig out of your own teal-accented box—quickly go into the routine as the spark from the wheel creates the fire that burns the cig before you set it off. jay turns the key to the bike as the rumbling machine turns on and combines with the sound of the vehicles on the street. while you slowly climb up the higher back of the bike, the movement makes you have to adjust your choker and you give him a whisper of "okay" before he pushes his feet off the ground and turns the handle, revving the bike as it lurches down the path and to the road.

the way gravity works makes you have to rest your head against jay's back, feeling his spine even under the layers of clothes as you take another puff of your deadly stick. the smoke flies away quickly by the wind that the speed of the bike makes. it's been a long time since you rode a motorcycle, since the last time you remember was back home when you rode it with your mom behind you, guiding you on how to use it as you tried your best to balance yourself. that was years ago, back in high school, and here you are in the big city. the thrilling rush reminds you of home as you breathe in the clear air, missing the smell of salt in the air that usually accompanies it.

your eyes glance outwards as you see jay driving you both through tunnels that cut through the city, swerving around cars and other slower bikes as you let your other hand grip onto jay's waist. the burning ash flies away from the tip from how fast it is as you continue to smoke—eyes were watering too because of the wisps into them. it's very cool against your skin as the only source of warmth is the body in front of you and the burning stick that is on the verge of dying. in a natural for you, you tug closer to the warmth as your other hand now rests around the front of jay, hoping he doesn't mind it.

signs made of glow decorate the streets as you read the writings on them. bars and restaurants names written in hangul and some in the alphabet make your starving stomach react once again. it didn't take long as the boy stopped the bike on one of the parking lots where many motorcycles park. your head lifts up from the broad back as you see the many plastic roofs of street booths, smelling the tasty aroma flowing through the air. after putting out the cigarette while letting jay finish parking the bike, you rub your palms against your arms to send the friction heat streaming through you. the chilly night's air becomes more and more colder as the moon rises, or maybe it's falling down to the western horizon because of how late it is.

the street has barricades to prevent any vehicles to come in to the perimeter. the bustling sounds of chatters make the block alive as the smell of a familiar fragrance enters your nose, making your stomach rumble once again. jay walks from the parked bike and stands beside you, the bandana now pulled down and hanging by his neck as he also encloses more of his black outer piece. roofs of different colored tents reflect the shine on them as if they exude the colour by themselves. the sound of scraping of aluminium against the wok is harmonising with the sizzling. entering through the small gap between the tents from the parking lot, you were met with the nightly food market. rows of plastic-made tables and chairs stretch through the street to accommodate any customers who are eating. most are definitely adults as you also see a few specks of them bringing their little children—the older children have school for the next day and missed out on the delicious cuisine.

footsteps walking nearly in sync as you and he gaze at the kinds of food being sold here. jay has been to this market before—one of his favourites to buy takeaways so that he can stock up for tomorrow's meal. it's also a go-to place for him to buy food before going to the han river and return back into his shadow; especially if he wants more asian cuisine because the snack bar sells mostly westernised food. hunger still exists even in the blanket of darkness, and with both of them fulfilled at the same time, jay feels like a happier man. while one doesn't expect it, he has a very caring relationship with food. jay could remember the memories of seeing his mom cooking something in the kitchen, like miyeokguk for his birthdays or the occasional kimchi that she's mixing before letting it ferment. he still gets kimchi from her once a month, and even that with white rice is enough for him.

"chinese food sounds delicious," he glances at you as you stare at the blue-tinted booth that is nestled in a building with a protruding tent canopy as chairs and tables fill the area. jay stares at the unrecognisable characters painted on the glass pane—he still can't understand it even after enrolling in a hanja class back in his first year of college.

"if you don't mind, of course," you added and turned to him, eyes meeting as jay naturally reacts with a shake of his head before you proceed towards the cook by the wheeled counter behind the glass. hearing you order what you like, especially with how hungry you seem, earns him an achievement for providing something to you as he stood back. your sight shifts back towards him before sliding diagonally down to the menu as he reads it.

settling down at the empty table overlooking the main street where more food is sold and people are eating, jay finally pulls out his phone to see the sms flowing one by one from his friends. the cut-up words look ridiculous, but definitely helpful when you only have limited buttons and characters on the phone itself. he chuckles as he sees euijoo's message on how piss jake is when he realizes that he was gone without telling him. his fingers press on the button rapidly as he follows the words he's trying to write, pressing the button multiple times to find the right alphabet to use as he types the significantly short message to reply.

1 message received

euijoo - 02.48 am a guy walk into de club n start 2 chase sum1 is dat y u run

jay stares at the blinking line of the text as he exhales before texting a "yes". when he wants to press the send button, his eyes lift up to see you who is putting away your bag on the table. seeing the other side of your face, he could see another bruise there on your right cheekbone, creating a line that connects every wound from one cheek to another with your nose as the bridge. his eyebrows crumpled whilst peeking at how your lips are pursing, but also interrupted with how your teeth bite your lip; almost like a soothing reaction as your arms remain still on the plastic table. your darkened, fearful eyes peer around the area, observing the people who are still eating this late at night while still having that alertness. it's like the person who was chasing you might know where you are going to be in the vastness of the city that is seoul.

scraps of movement on the asphalt road captured his attention as the cook came into his sight with two bowls. a jjajjangmyeon for him and a spicy warm jjamppong for you before he went back to provide you with the water pitcher. your hand reaches for the disposable wooden chopstick, letting him see the scars on your hand under the light of the lamp, but also how frail your hand moves. he couldn't see before under the shadow, but jay can now notice how your hand movement looks stiff—only a little amount of energy is exerted into it. jay can only presume two things: either you are actually tired from escaping the club with him, or you are tired in general. and by the look of your bruises scattered around your body and especially your face, the latter thought seemed to be one that added to the enigma that is you in his mind.

the chopsticks mix the sauce with the noodles as slurps fill the air between the two of you. your breath staggers as you take in the spicy broth, combating the cold that grazes your skin, as he hears how you actually sigh unconsciously. but more of a relaxing sigh, like it is a first in a long time you have had chinese food when it is the most accessible one out there—other than local korean delicacies. your tongue pokes out and licks the spiciness across your lips before biting on the shellfish's meat as he focuses on his noodle and takes a bite. the words forming and places on the end of his tongue as it waits for him to finish this one munch out of the others until he swallows it down and fills his stomach.

"who was chasing you?" the boy's question makes you turn your head to face him, eyes finally finding the bruise on his face; similar to what you have. his sight was looking at the street for a few moments before meeting yours. the coldness seemed to melt, even for just a little bit.

"uhm…" you started, forming the words in your head, "i just had to leave someone. just for the night, though. i think."

your words came out full of hesitation and also thoughtfulness, but it is full of something innocent as well—the little "i think" showing it. yet, his eyes still linger on your bruised lips as he could finally notice the little twitch on your small smile, a spasm from the wound that still looks pretty fresh, with the latest it might be is a day old.

"and, when i left them, i didn't know where to go. i don't know seoul enough to get away from them far. so i just go into the next nightlife establishment that we have also gone to, knowing that they would chase me after."

jay could now definitely pinpoint the innocence in your eyes. eyes that were wandering the night market and observing the many people enjoying their time late in the night, instead of staying in their homes to sleep until morning comes. eyes that were looking around the city as he felt your protruding chin moving around on his back as he could see from the rear-view mirror, turning your head to gaze at the big towering buildings that pierce the night sky.

you are not a seoul citizen—unlike him.

then, your hands are clasped in front of the nearly empty bowl of jjamppong. the warmth of the broth slowly dissipates as only a few more strands of noodles are left behind for you to finish. a whiplash on your neck blooming as you stare at jay, yet you don't mind with the rush of dopamine. the way his bike moves around the streets gracefully tells you that he has knowledge of this city's streets and neighbourhoods more than you know. more than the important subway stops you usually get off at and the apartment you live in. more than the streets full of nightlife establishments you frequent to including the club where you found him.

"maybe, you can help me." your voice echoes as it flows to his ears, a slight pout on your lips, "maybe you can help me get to know more about seoul. i- well, none of the people close to me here have even introduce me to the city properly." there is hint of melancholy in your words right at the end, something that tugs his gut as he listens to your proposition.

your figure left him behind as he gazed at you, pulling out your wallet from your chest bag as you paid for not only your meal, but his as well. the cunning glint in your eyes tells him that he knows why you're doing that—the reason why you are pushing him to the corner as he finally takes in your full body appearance; like you have done things like this before to survive. jay has no choice but to repay you now and as you settle beside him once again, you already have an expectant smile on your face, which he replies with nods. because it would not be a gentlemanly thing for him to say "no".

both of you walk around the streets that are dwindling with humans. all who have their stomach filled with happiness as they return to their homes and take rest. nearing the plot of land full of cars and bikes parked, you found the signs pointing you to the nearest subway station as you turned your figure to face him—taking in his handsome yet stern face for the last time. your saviour for the night as he leaned his hips against his angular motorcycle.

"i was thinking maybe we can meet up here tomorrow night? if you don't have anything to do, of course."

jay's mind reverts to his message from his father—saying that he should actually start thinking of taking a job—involving himself in his family's business that had been paying for his upbringing and that will be his inheritance. yet, he only takes little jobs from here and there instead. maybe delivering invoices from one office to another, picking up stuff to be put in the office and more throughout the day, leaving his night free of hanging out with his gang even in that shrouded corner. but your proposal seemed to hit enough of his free time activity criteria.

he has always been more of a night owl—nocturnal, if he could elaborate more. the nighttime is where he felt the most alive as even the cold air still gets sizzled when the sun's rays hit his skin. and when you say to meet him tomorrow night, he can also add to the list that summarises you in his mind that you are also a night person. it is like you have little jobs here and there in the day to pay for your needs, but can feel free in the night to take in the city and release any pent-up emotion you've acquired in the day.

like what he does.

"i can."

"great!" you say with the corner of your lips lifted, the smile reaching to your eyes before you glance down at your feet, noticing the way your boots nearly touch his. "what time are you available? six? seven?"

"after sunset," jay responds instantly as you nod in understanding. your black outfits match with each other as you nod your head.

"seven it is. okay…" you continue nodding as you lightly bite your bottom lip. as you take a step back, he can feel the hesitation coming from you. it is like you don't want this night to end yet. like you are enjoying his company so much even if he stays quiet most of the time, answering in a succinct manner enough for you to understand.

and he also felt it. like he doesn't want to let go.

"i'll see you tomorrow at seven here." your words create a note to pin his mind as he watches your body stepping away towards the sidewalk to the nearest station. and when his eyes met yours, he could see the darkness all gone—now filled with floating saturated colours that only he could see.

"good night, jay." your smile lingers in his sight as you turn your body around, retracting towards the streetlight on the start of the pavement before you step out of the ray of light and into the shadows of the street against the backdrop of windows on the towers littered around seoul. he didn't realise he had a pout on his face until your silhouette finally blends in with the darkness.

"good night, (y/n)." he finally pushes out underneath his breath, turning to go on his bike and turns the ignition as the rumbling sound fills the air. jay already have a place that he could introduce to you tomorrow night after bringing around: his favourite place ever in seoul and a place that you, a fellow loomer, would also love.

-

the familiar smell of geoje's sea is kilometres away from you now: the place you called home before the metropolitan city swallows you into it. you miss the piercing sun as you step out of your house to find yourself across from the beach. your mom is already standing on the sand when she feels your presence behind her, nagging at you that you woke up late before nudging at the motor scooter that is waiting for you to ride with as she would sit behind you—like always when it comes to saturdays.

yet, the sun now felt more like a past memory. its piercing heat stings deeper than only the surface of your skin, sinking deep into your flesh that you can feel it in your bones. it is now an unfamiliar feeling for you, especially after you moved away from the coast. in the van with the familiar rowdy crowd after your mother had pushed you to take it. take the chance to go to seoul.

"you deserve to also thrive in a big modern city like seoul, (y/n). especially after you got the taste of busan," you remembered her saying after you told her of your new friends' proposition. the ones you met when you were already years in deep to doing your work that you have started ever since graduating high school—just a waitress in a plain eatery that overlooks the coast—when a bunch of boys and a girl came into the empty room. their eyes and thoughts were already pinpointed on you as the girl brought you to sit with them.

"we won't be able to finish it with only the five of us," she said before introducing herself as ningning, then the rounds started. eunseok, sungchan, shotaro, and the most beautiful boy you had ever seen that time with his acoustic guitar on his lap. wonbin: the same boy you were escaping from that night. the same boy that was once so in love with you that you decided to move across the country because you saw a glimpse of a future with him and the other boys that are his bandmates.

even after many ultimatums of breakups that are his fault for the causes—caught him mid-thrusting into a fan that was cheering on him when he was performing at the backstage room after his gig in the pub and music venue you are working in to get your ends meet—he still as adimant to make it up to you. attached; obsessed. time and time again. sometimes with his sweet words but also with his sharp movements, creating the bruises that still sting your face and waiting to repair itself after you helped it with antiseptics. his friends are no different. from sungchan who he is closest with and turns his eyes away and continues playing his guitar even when he could see the frontman flirting on the stage with you who is sitting there across from it, to ningning who allows you to refuge at her place—unofficially moving out from wonbin's unit nearly two weeks ago—and how your story and warnings to her are met with many dismissal.

"i fucking know wonbin longer than you, (y/n). he is the first person that i am friends with when i moved here from china. he is not like that." yet, she is still much more aware now even if it is not at 50% level, espeically seeing your bruised up face and marred skin combine with how you have reiterate to her time and time again: "i don't have anyone to fucking go to in seoul. it is just the five of you. that's why i am telling you this."

and so, your love for the sun is gone as you felt safer in the shadow. it is safer for you to just observe from the crowd as wonbin has a spotlight on him, playing his guitar on the stage, when you go do what you are good at: serving people their drinks, taking in their orders, and maybe get rope in their booth for a drinking game or two. and when it gets too much—as you watched his lazy smile making a bunch of girls swoon like he hasn't got you wrapped around his fingers already—you left for the nearest club from there. a place that he ironically introduced to you after your second night working in the venue. the rock songs are being replaced with hard-hitting techno as you find a corner and light a cigarette. eyes always fleeting towards the front door to see if he notices and chases you or not. because, per his words: "i won't ever let you out of my sight."

but, for the first time in your life, you seemed to gain hope from the darkness that is usually around you.

in that club, the darkness of the corner of you always obscured yourself in has a presence you only notice recently. you thought maybe it is just the void enveloping you, protecting you from the harms you inflict on yourself and other people inflict on you. maybe, that presence has always been jay; steps away with his lit up cigarette and smokes flying out of the corner with yours.

your boots stamp on the stairs as you climb out from the underground subway station, bag slinging around with your movement as your whole outfit lets you blend into the shadows that will be forming more later in the day. the neon symbols that were hollow when you saw them before descending to ride the train are now clearer as the purple takes over from the orange that only has a trace showing at the western horizon. you eyed the familiar hanging signs that you walk past to go to the apartment unit from yesterday night, now heading the opposite way from the station to go to the street that is ingrained in your mind. a hidden gem you will now always cherish when you are searching for a treat.

the smell of cooking food is already sizzling into the air, still enticing even though you had remembered that you had already eaten some food at the convenience store before riding the train. but the expectation of it lets you focus on the street that is approaching. a few steps and you arrive at the opening, watching people eating their food on the tables and chairs placed down between tents of street food delicacies. some of them are in their office outfits—suits, ties, and miniskirts spotted on the tables as they get their fill of dinner before going back home or do something else as the night has only just started. instead of joining them, you head towards another place; towards where people park their private vehicles.

vehicles, from cars to motorbikes and regular bicycles, are all parked there in an orderly manner. some of the cars are parked parallel while the motorbikes are gathered in one place. yet, one stood out. there, with the familiar black and white bandana tightly covering half of his face, stood your saviour from last night.

"hi!" your words bounce out from you, startling both him and yourself. jay shifts his head to face you and nods before looking down to take your appearance: not much different to the clothes you are wearing from yesterday colour-wise. but you decided to wear a thin long-sleeved black top in place of your crop top t-shirt from last night.

"can i get a smoke break first?" you already put your hand into your bag as you heard him hum, opening the pocket as you pull out your cigarette stick and lighter. the click and sizzle enter his ear as your eyes are focusing on the end of the cigarette that is being burned, inhaling to keep the fire on before exhaling along with the smoke. and you turned yourself around and stepped back to stand beside him, leaning slightly against his motorcycle as you took in the scenery that you had also seen not even 24 hours prior. but it is much more crowded—people know that 7 pm is still too early to end the night full of relaxation after a long day, and it is also too early to start yours.

"we're the same age, right?" you muttered out as jay turns his head to look at you. his twitching lips were obscured under his tied bandana mask.

"i'm 21," he replied as you answered, "same then. are you in university right now or..?"

"graduated early. business major. you?"

"no. i am not…" jay peers down to look at the smile you let out, "i don't have the money. it's one of the reasons why i'm in seoul now..." you take a drag from the cigarette, letting it coat your mouth with the familiar taste before you blow the smoke away, "to find them."

he takes in your words and the assumption he made of you from last night. the little jobs you are probably doing, the innocence you have in the metropolitan city you find yourself in—especially at the start of the new millennium—with everything that this city has been going through. it makes so much sense for someone like you to move to seoul to get a job, knowing the many opportunities it has compared to other towns. you are still wearing the choker you wore last night, like it is part of your identity. like it is a way to make you grounded and not be blown out of the way with the many things that happened in seoul. like it is a reminder for you to stay true to yourself.

jay watches as you throw the cigarette away and stomp them with your sole before pivoting to face him. "let's," you speak out, eyebrows raised as you stare into his eyes. behind the bandana, a smirk rises on his face as he signals towards his bike with a small turn of his head. he catches your smile widening as he gets on the seat, turning on the machine that was already plugged in with the key and revving the engine up.

he felt your chin resting on his shoulder as the motorbike swerved around cars and other vehicles in the streets of seoul. the breeze brushes his hair away as he talks underneath the sound of the engine and other noises, words only reserved for you as he points out the many places you both are cruising by. from the city hall area to the eulji-ro, the palaces then to the ever-crowded and bright myeong-dong with the namsan tower standing like a beacon between the hills that encompasses seoul metropolitan area. from the rearview mirror, he finds you examining around the buildings as their light shines on you. an earnest yet also mesmerised look on your face like a child who has only seen the city lights for the first time.

jay also notices how your chin lifts up from his shoulder when the bike glides on the bridge crossing the han river. the river's surface glimmering under the sky, resembling the stars high up above. he doesn't stop, speaking to you of the many neighbourhoods he is bringing you along. jamsil, samseong, and sinsa encompass the affluent district of gangnam, which even makes the boy feel indifferent as he realises the area he is in, making him ride down the hilly road as quick as possible to get closer to the final place he wants to show you. and so, after the whole introduction to seoul, he brought you to his favourite place in the city.

parking the bike in the empty lot, you already step down as you walk towards the snack bar nearest to his hangout place that overlooks the han river. the park area seems to be full of people riding bicycles for their nightly exercise, but his favourite spot is not exactly by the edge of the river. but a bit further in and right under the bridge. the view looks out beautifully on the city's increasing number of skyscrapers, yet he is still in the comfort of the shadows. the other boys also know about this place—their favourite spot to hang out after school before their parents would call them like crazy to get back home. but with their regular appearance at the club now, this place is solely his to claim as he visits much more often than they do now.

jay raises his hand as you walk back with a paper bowl of french fries before he sits down on the metal bench and the table in its set right underneath the bridge where cars and buses drive above them. your figure approaches and looks up, slowing your steps as you take in the massive structure hanging above you, casting darkness on the spots right underneath them before a clear image on the other side shows across from where you stood. your figure sits beside him on the same bench, placing the fries at the space between the two of you as the darkness encases you from above. the shine from the streetlights only shows one side of both of your faces as you nudge your head from your gaze on the bowl towards him—signalling for him to take one. a smile morphs on your expression when you watch him pinch one cut of the fry and plop it into his mouth. you finally let out a huge exhale and turn your head to gaze at the city that you have called home for one year now. yet, a city that is still so full of the unknown for you.

the skyscrapers' silhouettes are darker than the twilight sky—letting you take in the enormous figures in their entirety when you are so far out from their foundation. gazing at them, it reminds you of the silhouette of the cargo ships across the sea that are going to park by the harbour in busan. its huge shape looks small from where you are standing on the sand, wondering just how many of your bodies should stack with each other to know how tall it is. being in front of the skyscrapers makes you feel like you are facing against giants that roam across the soil, especially with the many development of south korea that you have heard so many times from the radio, talks of the older people in your village, and the glance of the newest newspaper that reaches geoje that can be one day late from the message busan has received.

and here you are, sitting beside the boy who only speaks if necessary—knowing even from your short interaction. his spoken words sear into your mind as you match up the view to the names he had uttered on the ride on his motorbike as you leaned against his shoulder; feeling free for the first time in a long time.

"hmm…" you hummed before chuckling, making him turn his head towards you from your peeking. "do you want to know the real reason why i ask you to introduce seoul to me?"

jay's eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, reading onto your face that is as open as ever for conversation—different to the trembling eyes he had seen yesterday. you were much more relaxed. maybe because it is due to your hidden position that only people who take a moment to wait and search will find the two of you. maybe it's because you are not being chased by someone. maybe it's because the shadow is protecting you, to allow you to speak comfortably.

"i'm… searching for a new job," you finally say, a small pout jutting as you tilt your head to face him. "i work in that pub and music venue near the club where we met, working as a waitress and occasionally hostess. i'll be quitting from there as soon as i find a replacement."

the boy sighed beside you as he continued picking up the fries. his body also relaxed as he already guessed that you are buying it for both of you—like yesterday with how you paid for the jjajangmyeon he ate. but when you mentioned job searching, his eyebrows became slightly creased. yet, your sudden smile calms his heartbeat; taking in just how with the slightest crook of your lips, all the worry in him disappears.

"thank you for that. for all of it. i now have some places that i can consider for my next job. hopefully, they're open to accepting me…" you gulped down before staring back at the snack bar where you bought the fries—one prospect of the jobs you are searching for. the men who serve you your food there seem lovely; the dark night outside of their shining boxes doesn't seem to slow them down with their business, as you read that they're going to be closing at around 11 at night. you recalled how the man by the cashier is looking at the man who cooks, a look of adoration in him as they take their business slow and steady. like it is more of a passion job rather than a profitable one.

"you are a seoul citizen, right? local?" the last word is uttered by you to make the question clearer as you see jay let out a smirk.

"born in the united states, but moved here when i was five years old."

"really? that's cool," your voice pitched got higher by the end of your sentence with your eyes openly marvelling at him, especially now with the bandana off as you could take in his facial profile. from his stern eyebrows to his sharp jawline that actually makes his cheeks warm. "since you lived here most of your life, do you have any thoughts about the city? i'm genuinely curious. especially coming from a local rather than an outsider like me."

"an outsider's perspective is more objective in one way," jay started, his words seemingly speaking like an invitation for you to also join in the conversation with your own opinion. his relaxed body now looks more upright as he leans towards the middle where the bowl rests between the two of you on the bench, "one word to describe seoul: convoluted."

nods coming from your head, agreeing to his one-word description of the city you are now in. "i expected that knowing the many narration of the 'miracle of the han river'"—your hands widens in front of you to emphasize the gradiosity of the era—"from the early 1990s to then it came crashing down because of the financial crisis that even my family back in the village is still recovering from." you let out all the buzzword you have seen from the newspaper and the newly printed textbooks your have to share in the classroom. the rising number of conglomerates and how it has evolved the korean economy back when you were in elementary school. the view of the beach from the fishboats you recognised suddenly gains an increase of bigger steel ships—dominating the shore with more coming to import or export to the countries that have agreed for a trade relation. then, the financial crisis you felt in high school, as your mom was more willing to cook you a doshirak rather than give you allowance money to buy food, with how devalued korean won became.

"but, if i want to describe seoul in one word, like you do," you point towards him using your shoulder, "i would probably say dangerous. i mean, the sampoong department store collapse, the one with the seongsu bridge. it shows how people are willing to be reckless to chase for that 'miracle' and cut corners to gain from them, to upkeep their image as best as they could with cost of being not transparent." your sigh hangs between the two of you as you finally made eye contact with him. "to know that i am scared of seoul in an understatement, seeing the trajectory of it all. and also the divide."

"are you sure you don't go to university?" jay's question makes you giggle as you finish another bite of the fry. you reply by shaking your head, confirming to him about your education status.

"i am just someone who is keen to learn about the world. that's all…" you spoke back towards him before letting out the final words you can't seem to stop, "even if i'm lonely doing it."

jay's eyebrows were raised for a second as you realised he must have caught on to what you said. but rather than pointing him out on it, you stayed quiet, and he seems to follow suit. his hand rummages in his pocket as he pulls out the cigarette package, pushing the box towards you, with you replying with your shaking head as you pull out your own box. pulling one stick out of the box, you heard the click beside you as jay's face is illuminated with the warm orange colour of the fire. his eyes look between the dancing flame and then to you as he is holding on to it.

quickly, you bite the end with your teeth as you let the dried leaves burn—remembering how you were doing the same to him the night before. the smoke flew between the two of you, smelling the different flavours of his cigarette compared to yours that blends in. there are only a few fries left between the two of you. yet jay's posture seemed like he was letting you take in the rest of the food.

"lonely is a good word to describe the people in the city. people like us." jay finally lets out, letting the drag of the cigarette fly between the two of you. the scent of his cigarette is much heavier than your own menthol one—the one that even wonbin doesn't know because you only started smoking when you were separated from him. slowly and surely letting it become your friend that spreads warmth inside you, because alcohol will only make you weep your feelings. you understand that the smell will stick onto your clothes, yet you don't care. even with their cons, the smoke warms your body up like a hug. and with that, you both are sitting beside each other, taking in his expression and implications as he does yours.

"i call myself a loomer. people who loom in the shadow and just observe your surroundings." his eyes met yours as he blew another cloud of smoke out—not bothering you at all as you take in the smoke instead with a small smile on your lips. "you are one."

a thin smile comes out from your lips as you track the verisimilitude in his face. to have a nickname given by a person you can't help but respect in many aspects—education, wealth, and socially—feels like an honour. even with his simple description, you understand what he was saying. that even here underneath the shadow that is a bridge connecting people across the han river throughout the urban area: you both are looming in the shadows and taking in seoul from the little shady corner—another shadowy haven to add to your collection that is the techno club as wonbin destroyed sanctity of the apartment you had shared with him before you moved to ningning's.

"i haven't heard of that word before. but it is fitting. i like observing more as life goes on. knowing that people also live their lives and i can learn more about them by just... taking them in one by one." you uttered back, watching how the one side of his face is more vivid because of the light. and because of it, you can see how his left eye is glimmering—a subtle joy shown from your like-mindedness.

and so, you both are taking in seoul with your own paces. small conversation bouncing here and there, but seoul is also the main character of the night. your eyes follow the headlights of the vehicle on the bridge across from where you are; asking the boy beside about who owns the skyscrapers you both are looking at; talking about his insight on the 1997 financial crisis as someone studying economics. these are many discussions you aren't able to have with the likes of shotaro and eunseok, who are focused on the materialistic side of an argument—the sentence "how much does it worth?" peeling your surface one by one when you talk to the main bandmates outside of wonbin. even ningning is much more open to talking about this, even if it is something she dislikes talking about, because it makes her head hot when she hears how your questions are basically peeling every layer like what an onion has.

the wind wisps against your head once again, feeling his warmth even from his back as he had put your arms to wrapped around his waist. the bike weaves through the emptier streets as he moves towards the direction of your apartment tower. different from the last time you rode the bike before, you lay your head on him with one side turning as you take in the scenery. the many signs of business that added more characeter to the street while the building outlines blends with the darkness when the streetlights doesn't reached the top. as the bike continues on the asphalt road, you catch the familiar sets of buildings zooming past—nearing your destination as you eyed jay who is looking at the buildings to find the right one from the address you told him.

"thank you once again," you finally able to say as you stand beside him, his long legs becoming the anchors of his bike to stand steadily as he gazed at you. your hand rubs the back of your neck, feeling the stickiness of the sweat that perspires from your activities with him tonight. said boy looks at you sheepishly, a curt nod given to you as he finally reaches for his bandana and ties it back onto the back of his head.

"here, let me help." your hands move instantly, reaching to smooth down the upper side of the triangle shape of the bandana that covers the lower half of his face. the boy's eyes peering down at your hands before going to your face, his gaze goes straight to you as you pull back, making a distance between both of your figures as you feel the warmth he exudes scattering from your touch. your hands slowly fall down back to your side as you give him a thin smile.

"good night, jay," you say back to him, the same way you did yesterday.

you walked a few steps back on the pavement as he put his hands on the handles, revving the engine up before turning towards you.

"good night, (y/n)," he replied. and with the way you turn your head to look back from your shoulder, even for just a slight movement, he knows you heard his words—unlike yesterday.

his motorbike scurries off into the shadows as you eyed the red shining glow from the brake lights, getting farther and farther away as it turns at the corner to god knows where he would be going tonight. you exhaled a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you turned to the apartment building. the flights of stairs are sticking onto the side of the building as the fences barricade you alongside its half-wall foundation and the canopy above you from the weather outside. the gap letting in the night wind that grazes your cheek as you keep up your breathing pace and walk up the steps to the apartment you share with ningning.

with the key between your fingers, you insert it into the hole and turn the lock open when you feel that it is so light. eyes now squinting, the door was unlocked as you turned your head around the hallway to the other doors where the other tenants live. ningning had said to you that she is going to get home late tonight—doing something other than her job—and she left after you. it is either that she forgot to lock the front door or someone is inside. bracing yourself, you turn the handle and step inside the apartment.

"ning?" you spoke as loud as the night lets you with the limited volume, pushing your shoes off as you eyed the front door cabinet to see that her regular pair of shoes are missing, but instead you found a pair of rubber slippers scattered from one side of the floor tile to other by the front door. a familiar rubber slippers you can already guess as his voice continues to confirm it.

"there you are, lover." his silhouette sits on the couch across from the stack of blankets and pillows you folded up that are your set of sleeping items. the minimal lighting coming from the night outside the window, the warm orange lamp on the table nearest to ningning's room and the ultraviolet light hanging nearest to the television shine on the white of wonbin's tank top and turn it into periwinkle. his long hair frames his small face as his bangs cover his eyes slightly—a look that made you fall in love with him in the first place. wonbin's head turns towards where you stand as he lets out a smirk, pushing his body to stand up as your hand reaches for the strap of your bag; curling around it.

"you've not been home for five days now. i did assumed that you were staying at ning's." his voice reaches you as you could feel the bruises on your face tingling. you had unofficially moved to ningning's apartment nearly two weeks ago and yet he only remembered the last five days? maybe, he had also forgotten about the time when you were picking up your clothes to move to ningning's where you had met him drunk and with a girl bent on her hands and knees in front of him in the bed he had called "ours" with you. his blanked out drunkness became harsher as the girl actually watched you two until your body landed on the ground with a few punches landed on your face. the girl's eyes were looking between you and then at wonbin as she scurried away, half-clothed, and bring your out of the apartment unit instead. she bought you two a cup of ramyeon as you both talked about boys and all other things inside the 24-hour convenience store: you never got her name and number when you both seperated at sunrise.

that was two days ago. the reason why you got these faded wounds all across your face and hands. and he doesn't seem to remember it at all

yet, even with the bruises and all, wonbin's voice still affects you, making you remain standing as he walks closer and closer. there are so many reasons why you are enamoured with this certain park wonbin, and his voice was one of them. bright like sunlight but can be deeper when serious, especially when he sings on stage as the spotlight makes him shine more. but you know your relationship with the sun now as it becomes murkier and murkier—like your connection with him that is getting much messier with the many times he won't stop his escapades and his friends enable him to not stop as well.

his hands that have held your body many times, have placed their mark on you, caressing down your curves in a way that is catered only towards his pleasure. but even with the many times you had seen him cheat on you and how nonchalant his friends are, you realised that you still can't live in seoul independently, because wonbin is the main reason why you came here, following him around as he also helped you carve seoul into your life, adding that you can also help provide for your mom back in geoje also—a mom that wants to think and live big. and that, without him or his friends who could also support a more ideal person than an outsider like you, you would be homeless.

his hand reaches up and caresses down your sleeve-covered arm, feeling the shivers growing across your nerves as he steps closer to you—letting you feel his breath against your skin. but your eyes remain still and only look at one point, which is his chest in your vision. the touch felt so familiar and soft, not the same touch that hit you down on the ground and blooming splotches of darker colours on your face. in his mind, you know that that version of wonbin and this version of him before you are the same person. but if they are, why does your heart recognise his touches and obscure the version that wounded you? like it is telling you that yes, the wonbin before you is the wonbin that you loved. your wonbin. not the one that was hitting you to the ground. not the one that was chasing you down yesterday night.

and yet, when he lifts your gaze with a hand on your jaw, your eyes meet his and you can't help but compare his eyes with jay's. wonbin's eyes exude something so carefully crafted to impress people, like the deities made him to be an adonis that enamoured the human race. there is a romantic glint in his eyes—a look that shows the person before him that he cares for their being. but his eyes seem so superficial when you look deeper and longer. unlike the way jay looks at you with his stare that is much sharper and darker. more brash and yet, jay's gaze seemed warmer.

then, he moved his head to the crook of your neck, his grip moved to hold around your wrist. you blinked slowly, letting the familiar sniffing session come as he couldn't even bear to smell the scent of another person on you. his possessiveness is showing—something you can only pinpoint as the mask is slipping down more day by day.

"since when did you smoke?" he replied after sniffing the scent on you. the scent that you conceal yourself in—coping with his behaviour by taking as many smoke breaks in the back alley of the place you are working as you can, especially when he is performing on stage and openly flirting with the audience; not knowing the boundaries of his on and off-stage personas. chuckles bubbling from you as you sense him moving around your figure. you peek from the corner of your eyes as you are met with his dark, wide eyes staring at you. his puffs of breath create a pattern as he sniffs you more—now on your hair.

"like you care…" you say, so exasperatedly. wonbin doesn't like it if you are giving him "the attitude", as he usually calls it. but you really, really want to spite him by opening your bag and pulling out a cig for you to light up and smoke in front of him—blowing the steam towards his smug face. but you felt how his heat gets closer and seeps into the fabric of your top from how close he is standing. shivers still running as it forms across your spine involuntarily until he lets go, and then replaces it with the way he lifts your hand that is wrapped in his.

slowly, he moves his head and you feel him sniffing down every patch of your skin, starting from your covered wrist. wonbin's hums signal to you that he could smell the tobacco clearly. your palm begins to sweat as you clench your hand with him holding onto you tightly and unmoving, to set you straight as you gaze the other way from him instead. then, you feel another of his hands touching your waist on the other side—his warm palm resting at its rightful space to hold you still. to hold you so you wouldn't leave like the previous two weeks. and just then, you remembered what you said to him: "like you care."

when you feel the tip of his sharp nose trail up your arms, your thoughts about wonbin start to waver. does he really care for your well-being this whole time, like he does when he asks you to come with him? his presence is your safe haven in the scary and cold atmosphere of seoul when you came here, and how you follow along with his movement—because you trust him so much. wonbin has always been possessive over you, especially when someone has their eyes landing too long on you as he glares at them before bringing you into his proximity. but those rose-tinted glasses were gone. openly sniffing your figure felt too much—like he doesn't trust you when you should be the one not trusting him—yet you are here, wrapped around his fingers once again as his sniffs approach your bicep and his other hand moves to hold your hip.

then, the kisses start. wonbin's trails them up your obscured muscles to your shoulders as your body tenses even more. your senses ignited as he pressed closer to you—letting you feel his growing bulge when his hips brushed against your backside side which made your eyes dilate. his other hand moves to the front as he presses down on your lower tummy, closer to your core that he had claimed. your eyes peeked behind you and trembled in confusion. is he actually serious? is he wanting you again? after many months of him ignoring you while you take care of him, he finally wants you. wonbin's kisses trail your exposed skin on the collarbone like a train track with its clear destination. his destination: approaching the crook of your neck.

you felt the plush of his lips finding the skin of your crook, pressing right underneath your leather collar as you had to blink slowly, taking in the sensation you hadn't had in a while—the one that he usually induces. your tense body starts relaxing in his touch. but then you felt his other hand on the front of your neck, holding onto the clasp of your choker.

everything snaps back into you in the blink of an eye.

power flows through as you finally able to push your limbs away from him, pulling away from his embrace you used to love as you turn around to face him. one hand on your choker as the other on the place where he presses near your nether region—covering yourself away from the intimacy you had shared with him. because now: he is a stranger.

you shake your head, gazing at the man you loved and how you felt the shivers slowly turning to dread. gazing in wonbin's eyes, his eyes that were dark and full of lust, slowly changes. the creases on his face transform as he stares at you—the eyes from two nights before when you openly resist him. the look that you recognised has been lingering beneath the surface every time you caught him in the act and how he doesn't even stop.

"what the fuck?" he said, so menacingly that it made you retreated your steps. you gaze at his empty hands that are now clenched. the veins you had adored when you saw him playing the guitar now look like a characteristic for a side of wonbin that you don't like to see. then, he lifts it up quickly, making you flinch away as you hesitantly look at the front door that is now behind him.

taking quick breaths in succession, you push him with all your might as you run to your shoes, quickly slip into them when your eyes look to wonbin's body, who is rising up from the floor because of your force that knocks him. your figure was already shaking and you didn't even care that you hadn't tied your laces as you opened the unit's door and ran down the hallway.

"you can't get away from me, (y/n)!" he shouted behind you as you continued looking forward. your bag bounces beside you as you swiftly take steps down the flight of stairs—his footsteps still chase after you. your breath is staggering as you try to skip a few spaces of the floor to make your distance farther, nearing the entrance of the apartment tower as you finally push away the door. wonbin's footsteps still pursuing you as you could see his figure from even a tiny glance behind your shoulder. your head turns to the numerous ways you could go as you let your feet bring you away.

your stomps are heavy against pavement in the dead of night, running and running as you still give as much space to how your feet landed on the ground so you couldn't step on your laces and tumbled to the ground to then be captured by him. you don't care if you are jaywalking when the road is empty. you just want to get away from him as much as possible. the darkness quickly surrounds you as you pick the road most obscured, hopefully concealing you from him as you could still hear his steps behind you. you don't want to look back—not like this—as you ran as fast as you could. all of the food you ate last time burns up as you take turns in the dark streets and never look back.

you don't know which road you are taking, but the neon signs become your lodestar as you follow them along. finding a large multilane road that still has vehicles on the road, you press the button to cross to turn it green numerous times. wonbin's footsteps haven't been ringing anymore, but you still felt him so near that you had to push yourself to move again. the lights now radiating on you as you could see your black sleeves having a blue tint on them because of the glow. then, your eyes find the shadows of people across from you: a crowd. a busy street even this late at night. and as the walking man light turns green, you push to jog down the crossing and join the group.

lights then welcomes you as you run up the incline, remembering the road before you, as the road you were driving past when you were with jay. the neighbourhood of myeong dong greets you properly after the brief introduction from the ride on jay's bike. many signboards show advertisements of numerous establishments, such as stores that are still open at this time of the night. your vision lets you observe the many people—more are local than outsiders—but they still create a crowd that you can blend in and lose his presence from behind you. this is the first time in a long time that the nighttime lights save you as you get yourself deeper into the street and the large crowd that gets denser.

your legs are burning after running as fast as possible, pausing your body as you could feel your legs trembling before you brace yourself with your hands on your knees—bending down as you take in deep inhales. finally turning around, the crowd had obscured you from wonbin enough that you could finally stand still and take in the scenery of the bright neighbourhood. you know that you had lost him blocks ago. but when you couldn't see his long hair and white tank top, relief spread across your body as you graze your neck once again, feeling the choker safe and sound. spinning around, you read the signs as you try your best to find the best refuge from the night. that is when the golden arches with the red background and the sign that says 24 hours caught your attention.

dragging your feet against the ground, you approached the entrance way to a mcdonalds. the logo hanging is on top of the exterior above the door as you peer into the glass window to find that it still has a few people eating there. the rumbling in your stomach reacts as you recognise the sign that tells you the menu items. and in resolution, you nodded your head: hoping that this is the refuge that will keep you safe, even just for tonight.

-

the familiar darkness now covers jay in his rightful place once again, taking in the flowing sonic waves from the speakers that are playing songs coming from the uk trance scene as he could feel how his head is droning alongside the elongated melody of born slippy by underground. taking another drag of his third cig of the night, he nods his head to the thumping beat as he gazes back at his friends who are doing their own shenanigans at their regular booth. seeing them already in a trance of alcoholic bottles scattered on the table with the regular girls sliding into their arms. but he couldn't help but be thinking of you.

the next day, after the day you and he rode around seoul and went to his spot under the bridge, he went back to the street food market—buying some food to fill in his fridge and put on the dining table—and he was hoping to find you there again. the bandana he wore the day before is now gone from his face and rested as a scarf, letting his eyes peer to the street where the underground subway station is located—the same sidewalk he saw you go back and come from when you two met up. but, after an hour of idly standing against his bike, he realises you aren't coming with a scoff coming out of him. and so, jay walks through the crowded pathway full of people buying and sending foods to the tables towards the chinese food street vendor that you both ate from, making him eating there alone as his eyes continue to be alert of your presence—still hoping that you would come as he waits for his takeaway orders to be finished.

it has been a week since that day and he has never seen you again throughout that week. jake had been the one noticing how fidgety jay has become. his friend observes how his eyes are looking at the view of nighttime seoul across the river for far too long—ignoring the food scattered on the metal table—when he feels jake's presence sitting beside him. and one by one, the others start to notice. how jay's quietness is different from the quietness they are used to; because jay's usual attention will still remain at present time when he listens to his friends talking about their college drama with the people he had encountered with before in some part of his life while taking in a drag of the joint nicholas had gotten for all five. yet, jay's attention is elsewhere. that is when euijoo was the first one asking the question that has been written at the space in front of the rest: "are you thinking about the girl that you were running away with?"

and for the first time in their friendship, he hesitated to let out a direct reply. thinking for a few moments more, even if he answers with just a few nods.

after taking a breath, jay let the heavy bass drummed into his ears as he could feel the wall shake from the frequency waves. his burning stick is getting shorter and shorter as he inhales more, making the fire spread closer towards his lips. then, he heard it. the sound he had expected to hear from the past week when he was standing in this very corner.

the sound of a click makes him rotate around as the orange flame blazes up and your facial features appear—glowing from the little source of light before it. your eyes dart up from the flame, greeting him with one look as you let the end of your cigarette between your lips get burned whilst also inhaling, taking in the smoke as he glances at your face. the bruises and strip bandage are now gone as he can finally scan your natural and healthy appearance. yet, he could actually see clearly how your under-eye circles were getting deeper into your skull. that was the last sight that he etched in his mind as the flame is gone with one blow with your lips.

jay's eyes adjust back to the darkness as he can still see you—and you to him. he peers down to still see the reflected silver buckle across the width of your neck: your choker necklace is still on as it becomes something that he will pinpoint about your appearance every time. but your outfit is much more casual, a t-shirt that is a perfect size for you, which doesn't press down on your skin. but also a jean pants that blends in with your top with its dark colour. taking another drag from your cigarette, your eyes met his as he noticed how you were letting out such a soft frown from your curving lips.

"where-"

"i'm sorry for not reaching out," you said in only a whisper he could hear. the smoke coming from your burning cigarette decorates his view as he throws the end to the ground and crushes it once again. yet, the slight spotlight grazing the corner where both of you stand lets him gaze at your features once again. the frown slowly morphs into a smile—a reassuring smile.

"i got a new job though." words come from you as another inhale of the poison lacing your stick as you drag it so deep, some come out from your nostrils before you let your mouth agape, letting the smoke out before blowing the rest. in a way, jay had felt calmer than before. that whatever he did days before—ever so minimal but still in the spirit of concern about you—goes away as he watches you become seemingly happier in return. it is like you have let go of some weight, even if he could detect a few hypothetical ones that are still doing a balancing act on your shoulders. nevertheless, the way your eyes twinkle as you told him makes him feel a sense of pride that you are sharing—a thing that repays every time you pay him food and his action of helping you run from the unknown person that was chasing after you.

"this calls for a celebration," your voice rang out as you peer once again at him, his lips pursed; contemplating your simple proposal. jay's eyes go to the booth where his friends are sitting, noticing jake already looking back when he nudges euijoo beside him: the ones who had directly asked him why he hadn't come to the club recently and know about who you are, even from the short sentences jay tells about you. smiles stretched on both of their faces as they moved their heads in sync—communicating with him in nonverbal gestures visible from where he stands.

jay's head turns towards the back exit beside the dj booth. the trance music continues whirring in a basic instrumental as people are still taking a rest from the beat drops and breakdowns. he returns to face you before pointing at the doorframe with his chin. "take the lead," his gestures said, making you put out the cigarette on the wall beside you. with a brush of a hand that he captures so messily, jay follows your movement as you brought him down the back exit once again. your head turns on a path hastily—seemingly remembering the path down the halls to find the door with the green exit sign. the breeze hits both of you when you open the door, eyeing the alleyway as you retrace the steps that you were taking last time—now with jay towing behind you.

his kawasaki ninja is parked perfectly with no other vehicles parked near it. jay's stride becomes wider as he reaches the bike first, as only a few of your curved fingers are connected with each other. rummaging his pocket for the key, he is one step closer to mounting the vehicle when he hears the sound of quick steps—making him pause when you stand between it and his figure. jay tilted his head at you before scanning through your nervous yet determined face. that twinkle in your eyes is still visible as you pivot your head to the side when you catch onto the motorbike's figure.

"can i control your bike?" your request is simple, but when he starts to let his doubt show, you continue your words. "i ride them back home ever since high school. though i am used to riding scooters, i think i should still be able to find my balance with it." your head gives a small nod at the vehicle behind you.

jay could see the wonder in your eyes that was being blended with a tinge of melancholy as you asked your question. he remembered your words about work, about home which you haven't mentioned where exactly. but, it is your celebration when he voluntarily follows you. he also has a role that helps you get a job now, and this is your way of saying thank you. and so, he walks around you and mounts the bike, pushing the key into the hole. but when you turn around to face him and expect to hear the ignition starting, he kicks the foot peg up and scoots a bit back whilst balancing the bike; leaving the front empty space for you.

"come," he says, eyeing you as you let out a smile when you didn't expect it. slowly, you climb in front of him very awkwardly until both of your feet are on each side of the ground and balance the bike perfectly. the engine roars when you turn the ignition key as you hold the handlebars, familiarising once again with the feeling before you push the bike and turn the handle—letting the bike lurch into the night's streets.

as you lean forward near the gas tank, hands holding tight onto the bars, the velocity makes jay have to lean against you. it feels rare for him to be in the backseat of a bike—especially being the only one among his friends who ride them because they prefer sports cars. so, he gently places his chin on your shoulder; not only because he wants to see how you are handling his bike, but he wants to hear your giggles clearly. the wind brushes both of your hairs back as you follow the lines of the road, even though you can also swerve from the left to the right lanes because there are no other vehicles on the road. then, you eyed the tunnel at the front as you twisted the handle more, feeling another kick from the engine as the bike went into the opening. the growling machinery bounces against the long walls as he observes how your eyes are peering out on the street. his hold on your waist is becoming a little tighter and you don't seem to mind it

then he realised by the euphoric look on your face as you take streets after streets of just sightseeing: you don't know your destination. you still don't know seoul's streets like he does, even with the public transport you are using, which only brings you to certain neighbourhoods that have heavy pedestrian traffic. and so, jay leans into your ear and says, "there's this bar i sometimes go to. do you wanna go there?"

"tell me the path to go there," you reply with a higher volume as he knows that you felt his nod beside your own head.

the night embraces both of you as the lights decorate it. from the business signs to billboards—all have their power on under the raven sky to capture people's attention. but jay's attention is on the street before him and you who is driving the bike. he signals with his voice by your ear on the streets to divert to as you follow along, tailing behind a bus before taking a turn on a smaller street. the bike sounds bounce against the buildings around as the lights here are more subdued. the bike is getting farther and farther from the main streets. and he signals you to the side as you see the small parking lot.

he is the one who steps down from the bike first as you push the foot peg down and turn the key for the ignition off. mounting off from the seat, you let out a big whoop as you tidied up your ruffled hair that is blown by the wind, hearing chuckles coming from jay when he watches your joyful exclamation. slowly, you stand close beside him and tuck your arm with his—letting him take the rein once again.

jay brought you towards the door that blends in too well with the grate that covers the closed small businesses around it. a security guard nods at jay—recognising the boy—and you, who is his plus one, as he pushes inside. dim lights outline the path of where you both are going as you both trek into what looks to be a small and dark bar. an orange light shines around the bar area as you both take a seat on the stools there. the lights shine on jay's side profile, the shadow casting on his sharp and angular face perfectly as you take in his jawline while he is talking to the bartender on what he would like to order before he turns to you.

when his eyes are on you, you can feel how your heart is pulsating. his cold gaze to others is warm to you—like a flame being lit up that attracts you like a wanderer in a dark forest walking closer to a burning campfire. it feels like a refuge, a refuge you could trust yourself to be comfortable with after the past days where you had to gather most of your things and move them away to a location that ningning, and especially wonbin, doesn't know. tiring away your days and nights from practising with your bosses on how to work the ice cream machine and how to deep fry stuff—helping them with their businesses until late at night and even until closing time.

"i'll go with the same," the bartender nods at your impromptu response when you realise that you took too long to answer the question. and with him leaving, you and jay remained there quietly. the place is bustling with mostly the sound of music playing that is nearing the end—but it is a place meant to be used to socialise quietly, unlike the pub you worked at before or the club you and jay meet. there is a shine of uv lights on one side of the room that makes it purple, creating a beautiful contrast with warm orange light. as you heard the song vibrating around the room, you glance around to find a bright jukebox near where you are both sitting—the sound coming out from it.

the bartender set down the glasses of daiquiri before you both as jay's head shook rhythmically whilst listening to the jazz song playing from the jukebox. you pick up the glass and immediately take a drink as you feel the icy liquid freshen you up, looking at the beverage glass you sip from before turning towards jay, who is only onto his.

"ah, sorry," you push the glass to meet his with a little clinking sound as you reply with, "cheers."

jay blinks his eyes, but he grows a smirk on his face before taking a sip of his own daiquiri. you both were sitting there peacefully, even though it seems that you two are in a more casual outfit than the other patrons look like. the bar does seem to be more or less like a speakeasy would look like—hidden with not many people knowing to keep that exclusivity. with the brashness of the pub and music venue you frequented for work or to gaze at the performing band, this is the place that you've been searching for to mix up your nights. a place that lets you drink, but still lets you think alongside it. abling you to think about everything you need to figure out in your life, especially with your relationships and all. to, at least, balance them all as best as you could.

"(y/n)," the deep voice calls for you as you glance at jay—his face already fronting yours as you see his irises flickering up and down, taking in you clearly with the better lighting. "why'd you need a new job?"

the question is so profound for you, as with only a number of people here you personally know in this very city, they never ask you about many of your reasons for decision making. why did you move away? why did you join them? what will you do? your beating heart continues as you think of your answer, a succinct yet understandable one.

"well," you lick your bottom lip. "as you know, i'm not from seoul. i'm from a little island near busan called geoje, and uh…" you let out an exhale, "i moved here to help get money for my mom. my dad passed away when i was still in middle school, so she is the one taking care of me until i graduated, while taking jobs here and there. and when i had the opportunity to go to seoul, she pushed me to do it. and here i am now." nods of your head ended your words as you take another sip of your cocktail, letting the alcohol buzz you. your hand gestures an open palm to him—an offer for him to continue the conversation.

"you know that i'm a business major. it's because my family owns a business here. logistics." you look to his eyes, the way they scrunch alongside his nose. "we're not chaebols, though we do work with them. but honestly," he shakes his head before peering back to you, "i don't really like that side of the social world."

you scoffed as you play with the rim of your glass, tracing around it that you can already guess costs a huge amount of heat temperature to shape them. "funny how different we are economy-wise. yet here we are, in this chaos that is seoul. running around nocturnally because the day stings us."

eyes looking at how his smirk widens and nods his head as he agrees with your words—letting the bar's atmosphere swallow you into its depths. your stool had scooted closer to him, letting your forearm which is resting on the counter brush against his. you noticed how his knuckles have scars on them and the calluses on his fingertips that is so familiar to wonbin's. those fingertips were the ones you noticed on him when you first sat down at the table with the rest of the five during your slow shift at the eatery, brushing your fingers against wonbin's unconsciously as your marred hands join in with each other's. and you do so with jay.

your fingers reach between his, brushing the calluses on his fingertips as you feel the electric spark. none of you are talking about anything as the silence clasps you both—talking isn't really the defining part of your relationship when you can understand his intentions just by gazes and non-verbal gestures. then, you felt it. how his fingers are also moving to brush against yours, slotting themselves between your fingers before curling against them: locking you into a small yet assuring embrace that tells how he is there for you—no matter how unconventional.

senses heightened as you felt his warmth transfer onto you, but you can also feel how your heart is clenching because of the familiarity. your acute hearing now makes you realise that the music had stopped, making you glance towards the jukebox as you let go of his small embrace; startling the boy when you stand up and stride away from him.

with a hand inside your bag, you walk by to see the jukebox's intricate design. a line of vinyl discs waiting to be picked as you pull out the coins and plunge them into the coin slot. the machine whirls on as you see the lights by the number pad. randomly, you pressed down a number as you see the machine pushing out the disc you pick. a metal hand picks it up and places it on the turntable, seeing it spins as the tonearm moves above the vinyl disc and pushes down—letting the needle read the grooves on the disc as you read the spinning album name in the middle while a loud guitar melody plays.

the beatles' rubber soul.

you have heard of the beatles numerous times because of wonbin. many times he had said that the beatles is his favourite band of all time, but he only had three of their albums. rubber soul is not one of them. yet, the sensation of how you are trying to forget about your ex-boyfriend instead is being torn down when you hear the familiar voice of paul mccartney. and combining that with how tipsy you have gotten from the near-finished glass of your daiquiri, you knew that you needed to get out of this place and get out of that space your ex-boyfriend brings you every time an item reminds you of him.

get out to run from ever thinking of everything as wonbin even when you are not near him—physically and emotionally.

and so, you run. the sound of someone's voice calling your name brushes away from the gush of speed as you retreat the steps you have gone through, climbing up the flight of stairs with floor lamps on each side of the path before being met with seoul's cold night atmosphere once again. with your tipsy vision, you are attracted to one side of the road where the lights are shining bright. the nearest subway station should be that way as your feet brought you towards it in auto-pilot—like a moth flying to a flame that is getting brighter and brighter with blue fire—much more attractive but also more dangerous. tears are free-falling down your cheeks as you mentally slap yourself on why you are thinking about wonbin when you are with jay.

you should be fucking ashamed of yourself. jay doesn't deserve someone like you, who can't even separate your ex-boyfriend from yourself.

footsteps are chasing after you—reminding you of when you escape from your apartment tower before wonbin ever catches you—and with a surge of adrenaline kicking in your tired self, you push yourself to run. but the footsteps behind you were quicker and you felt yourself being enveloped in a full-on embrace. the quiet cries you were letting out, turning into wails as you hold onto that memory, the boy that you once loved now hunting you down throughout the city as you feel more and more unsafe. that is when you heard jay's voice coming from your right ear.

"i'm here," he spoke only to you as your head lulls, body trembling whilst he holds you upright. lifting your hands up, you cover your face and let the dark consume you once again. yet, his hands don't let go. every touch on your body that reminds you of wonbin is all being cleared by jay, especially when he scented you that night. you turn around his arms and wrap your own around him, feeling his broad shoulders as you hide your face into the crook of his neck. jay's hand brushes down your spine in a soothing way—the same way your mom gave you when you hugged her for the last time before joining wonbin and his gang in their van on your way to seoul.

even if jay was looming over you like a shadow, his embrace feels like a blanket against the cool temperature. you brought your head beside his ear, whispering, "bring me to the spot under the bridge," and you felt him nod against your shoulder.

riding behind him once again, your blurry eyes take in the seoul streets as you hold onto him tightly. your trembling body becomes unnoticeable in the velocity of the ride as the lights then go out of your vision and are replaced by the streetlights as the road goes downwards from the hilly areas. the glimmering highrises look like stars from far away as the bike arrives at the parking lot of the river. you eyed the snack bar near the pathway beside the river's edge as you stepped down from the bike and rushed past jay towards the bench under the bridge, finding solace in being undetected as your body continues to shake.

jay follows you as your hand leans on the metal table before bringing you to sit on the bench, hands finding your waist as he lets you snuggle into him once again. under the bridge, you both sit there as the void of the night tells you both how alone you are. under the vastness of stars, light, and raven-colored sky, you only have each other.

he felt your hand lift off as jay turns to look at it, moving towards your neck as you tug on the choker that felt more tightening than ever. so, jay reacted; brushing your hair aside as he found the clasp that looked like a belt buckle and gently took it off. you take a huge inhale when you feel the tightness off of your neck as he pulls it into his palm, making you turn your head towards him with his free hand on your jaw. jay looks downward at the neck, checking for any marks on your neck that are a sign of the accessories being worn too tightly. instead, he found a mark that rested in the middle between the two edges of the choker; the colour of the skin is different from your natural tone. the line is small across the middle of the neck, but it's wider nearest the middle. then, with his widened eyes, he realised what the mark meant.

"i haven't been truthful with you," you can now say as you watch his eyes focused on the mark left behind on the column of your neck. the memories—remembering your trembling hand as you hold onto the kitchen knife against the skin, ready to end it all. slowly and slowly, letting out your truth, understanding that you are comfortable to make him know.

"i worked at the pub with the music venue near the club, where my ex-boyfriend performs. he was, is…" you shake your head as jay moves to cup your face, brushing your tears away as you didn't realise more of the fat drops coming out. "i don't love him anymore. yet, he is still stringing me around, giving me hope and breaking it all the time until i had enough. so, i decided to get a new job to leave him behind and i have been going to the club when i had the chance to get away. to your club."

"not my club," he instantly replies.

"you know what i mean," you answered back as he nods—how you refer to the club as the place that you both meet, "but yeah. i'm trying to live my life here and away from him as possible if i could. it also means doing activities at night so that i can't go and find him fucking someone at the venue."

jay takes in your words and arrange them carefully to make all of it makes sense. that you are from geoje who goes to seoul to find a job to help your mom back home, working in a pub where you meet your boyfriend there and he seems to be the cheating type, especially if the mark on your neck means something that he was thinking. his eyes study into yours, dilate with wide pupils as you take in as much of the light as possible from the darkness—the darkness that you deem to be a haven. under his embrace, your presence shakes him so much that he worries about your well-being. he is then being reminded of the scars that bruised your face when he first noticed you, adding that to note when you mentioned this ex-boyfriend of yours. a beautiful face undeserving of being marked that way. and also, to the way you could still understand him even with how minimal he talks, as he only opens his mouth if necessary—information exchange, guidance, greetings, and farewells.

the loomer that jay is now recognises that you are a full loomer like him—to escape whatever life you are living in the comfort of the dark—adding to that is your mindset that he has been piecing together like puzzle pieces, creating an image he can identify. you had lived an interesting he wished he had lived. but there is more to it when all he wants to do is to stay by your side and be with you in the many life-changing decisions you are going through right now.

jay also realises that he has fallen in love with you, that he wants to protect you and become your comfort. it's the reason why he is the one leaning forward first, connecting his lips to yours as he closes his eyes.

the sparks you felt when you brushed your fingers with his now turn into megawatts that could light a huge advertisement billboard when he kisses you. your eyes are still open, staring into his closed lids as you can't believe what is happening. from your mind, even with the encounters you have that can be counted with fingers, you know he isn't someone who expresses his feelings freely. it's the reason why his company—including his ignorance of you when standing in the same corner as he is—still feel as comfortable as ever. because he isn't nosy like other boys who see you as a target. yet, you felt something deeper with him when he wants to help you evade wonbin, when he wants to help you explore seoul and find a job; though you aren't fully open to the circumstances that you are in. something that is so unconditional that you haven't felt in a long time. and here you two are, kissing under the bridge beneath the stars that shine on seoul.

with your heart now beating not out of fear, you close your eyes and move your lips against his, taking in the way he moves as you let him take the lead—eyelashes caressing his and a hand resting on his nape. jay's hands move to cup both of your cheeks so delicately as your lips move to accommodate him. more and more sparks continue to pop and you feel shivers running down your spine. it spreads wider as you sense one of his hands move under your jean-covered thigh, signalling you to move as he pushes you so you could straddle him. the sigh coming out of between your lips makes him push his tongue to greet yours. kisses now opening more as you also try to suck on his tongue. his hands move to splay across your shoulder blades as yours move to brush his hair.

the fresh air skims against your skin when you perceive the coolness of both of your salivas on your lips. jay's head moves downwards, to your jaw and then to your neck. he focuses on there, kissing your scar numerous times from one side to another as you let out a sigh, leaning back to give him more expanse of your skin as you lightly bite on your lip, eyes gazing at the steel bars holding the structure upright above you, before glancing to find the lights on the other side of the path under the bridge. yet, they couldn't distract you from jay who is kissing your scar like crazy. like he is replacing that scar with his kisses instead, and you like it.

pulling him away with a tug of his hair, you push your head downwards as you places your forehead against his. and finally, he opened his eyes. the whites in them are nearly overtaken as he darts up at you, taking breaths to stabilize himself while you gaze into the beautiful darkness of his eyes. you take in jay's scent—the familiar woody cigarette scent now adding to your comfort trigger as you slowly brush his hair with your fingers. your eyes are slowly tearing up as you blink them away, glancing at his temple instead of his face.

"thank you," you state, not knowing what to say with the overwhelming emotions you are experiencing.

"i'm here for you." jay echoes what he said the last time when he embraces you, adding more to the list in your mind that compares him and wonbin. and so, you let out a small smile and hug him fully. his head resting beside yours on your shoulder as his cuddle continues to relax you. yet, the tears in your eyes continue to form and now fall down from the brimming eyelids. jay could definitely hear your sniffers as you felt him squeezing you tighter. but when he realises that the tears that wet his top are because you can now cry cathartically—he was wrong.

from your standpoint, the tears that have been falling from your eyes ever since jay hugs you are definitely full of joy, the first real joy you had felt in this city. but it is also the tears that have a tinge of guilt because you know that this could be the last time you feel his warmth again—you won't be able to when you go home.

-

jay had never been so dependent on his cell phone since the first time he got it back when he was in his freshman year of university the gloomy green hue of the screen stares back at him in the dark as he had always expected your message to come in. in regular intervals like the documents coming in from the fax machine full of reports that he had to scan through. as promise from last week, you had been keeping him up with texts and he to you as well.

(y/n) - 10.55 pm ive dun my shift

words that he could easily decipher, knowing that sms are being counted per character you are sending and the limited keyboard options, such as no apostrophes and periods, unlike the keyboard wired to his computer.

you have always been a part of his life ever since you told him of your job—well, when he discovered your job by himself. his eyes widened as he finds you manning the counter of the snack bar nearest to his regular spot at the han river bank—telling with your eyes that "yes, this is the job i told you about." ever since then, whenever his gang wants to buy food whilst hanging out and smoking joints on their bench underneath the bridge, he is the one that is coming there; letting your presence enter his grace as he points out the orders his friends are wanting from the back of his mind.

yet, you haven't kept up with him anymore today. all constant text you have texted in regular intervals disappears in an instant. the last message sent was from last night, 10.55 pm, when you finished your shift.

he pulls his cell phone out and looks down to find no notification number with your name attached to it, letting the booming techno music enter one of his ears and go out the other. jay blinks slowly, hoping that after his singular blink, he could see your name inside the shaded rectangle and a "1" showing up alongside the word "message received". but none came at all. and so, he leans back against the wall once again. the burning cigarette was nearing the end as he could feel the heat getting hotter and hotter close to his fingers.

as he crushed the cig under his foot, jay thinks back on your words from last week. how he felt something even when you only looked at him in a glance at the snack bar whilst taking care of many orders, to the characters of your message that entered his phone and how it also reflects how you speak in real life. a voice full of curiosity, yet it has a tinge of tiredness as well. his eyes landed on the exit sign above the main entrance. to the establishment you had spoken about near this very club.

for first time in a while, jay voluntarily steps out of his shadowy corner.

the boys also seem to notice it, eyes sticking onto their friend's figure who glides on the floor towards the entrance, moving in tandem with the crowd so he doesn't bump into them, and jay disappears into the other side of the room. the boy's eyes met the bouncer—who looks at him weirdly for going out so early in the night—as he gives a curt nod. he pulls his cigarette box, pushing one of the sticks out as he bites it between his lips. hands expertly moving to grab his lighter as the familiar click rings to him, letting the blunt burn as he peers from side to side—knowing the venue you meant as it is something he had gone past many times. with a step forward and another, he takes off into the shadowy night.

the orange flame on the end of the cigarette tells everyone outside of the vicinity of the shadow of jay's presence. his footsteps clear on the silent asphalt street where most of the people are inside the building; dancing, drinking, and fucking the night away. but his eyes are focused on one side of the road, looking between the entrances of buildings that are closed for the night to scan the ones in between them. from small restaurants to other club entrances.

his eyes landed on one with spotlights shining on the wall, posters of up-and-coming bands plastered there alongside their schedules—seemingly like regular performers as he couldn't see a specific date on the texts. only hours and days. he heard the sound of guitar strums muffled by the layers of walls. jay looks up and down at the entrance's appearance, seeing the name of the pub that you had mentioned before—confirming that this is the place you have talked about numerous times, even if it's not directly named. the security guard at the inside of the entrance stands as jay shows him his ID, before he moves sideways to let him in.

walking through a short hallway, the guitar sounds get louder and louder when he is met with open space. the bar is nearest to him as he looks at the other side of the room to find a performing band standing on stage. a four-person band, two on guitars, one on bass, and one on the drums. one of the guitarists seems to be the frontman with the mic stand erected in front of him as he sings into it—his bright voice constructing a source of light in the otherwise dark room. his hair is long with his bangs floppy near the corner of his lips, making the audience whoon as he swipes it away behind his ear. a smug showing in his face, yet jay's mouth could only taste bitterness.

that guy was exactly like how you mentioned your ex-boyfriend to be.

taking a few steps forward, the stage expands as jay continue to watch the band playing. the frontman playing the guitar so loosely, he couldn't help but compare it to how he plays guitar in his spare time. like it had become such a routine, the frontman doesn't need to exert more of his passion into it. and as the song comes to an end, the band plays a few last notes before ending with a huge ending for a flashy performance. cymbals ringing alongside the guitar chords before it stops, and is replaced by the cheering. audiences' hands raised up from clapping to waving as the frontman flips his guitar behind him, unplugging the amplifier cable before bowing his head to the audience. then he steps away as jay's sight continues to follow his figure. walking to the side of the stage when he finally sees two girls standing side by side. one with a smile on her face and the other has an indifferent expression.

you.

everything that he sees is behind the layer of shadows—ignored by the spotlight that is fixed to beam the stage. the frontman walks to approach you as jay can see your every expression with another step forward. the plain look on your expression is imbued with a little melancholy as you then smile when the boy stands before you. then, he hugs you first, your head appearing by his shoulder as he watches how your arms wrap behind the boy's figure, eyes looking at his head from the corner of your eyes before letting yourself close your eyes. jay's breath hitches as he continues to stare, eyes looking at your face with closed eyes when the frontman pulls back and pushes you again. now: to kiss you.

even from afar, he could see how you reacted. your hands gripping onto his shoulder as the female friend steps aside from the two of you, making him press you against the wall as the boy's body covers most of you. and as the band members collect their money alongside the female who moves away, jay's eyes are still on you as the boy moves you around so he could see the sides of both of the figures. then, he turns you around, pushing his chest to your back as his head moves down to your neck. his hands move to the waist that jay had held before to then as he sees the frontman's hand rising up to your black tank top. the lines on your face creased as jay could see the boy's hands giving a squeeze where your breasts are, making your hands reach up to them.

jay's body is now shaking, watching as you fall into the arms of the frontman—who he now knows is what you claimed to be your ex-boyfriend. yet, an ex should push away whenever they touch you. but you don't?

his eyes become seethingly blurry with how hard he squeezes his hands. nostrils flaring as he watches how you let yourself go in your ex's embrace. he shakes his head. surely not. surely you don't only see him as a rebound? is he a rebound? his heart aches more and more as jay continues to look at your face. the face that has been crying and smiling in his arms is now unfamiliar. that is, until he sees you tilt your head to look straight, opening your eyes to realise the location you are in, before letting them wander and meet with his sight.

the tears start to form instantly in your eyes as you look across to see jay. his nose crunched up as he examined between you and the boy who was groping you. jay nods his head before stepping away to the entrance. a dread made of an imaginary ice-cold water flows down onto your body as you quickly grip and claws wonbin's hand, disgust overwhelming you as you can't believe yourself for falling back once again in his embrace. you were so strong, yet you limp in his arms when you only wanted to be there to say your final farewell—to put this all in closure. to tell him to stop tracking you down again, in the nicest way possible. but it is impossible to do so with him when he still knows that you haven't fully let go of your wrap around his finger.

with a surge of shame and rage, you turned around and pushed wonbin away, staggering him as he was taking more time to balance himself with his guitar on his back. a smirk showing on his face like he knew, he knew what he was doing by taking advantage of you. and, it seems like he knew about the existence of jay, too.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" you screamed, catching the attention of every one in your vicinity. you take a few steps as you point to his chest multiple times.

"we're done and i should've said it yesterday," you said succinctly before walking away from—finally—your ex-boyfriend as you chase down jay's figure that must have been where you were minutes before. hurried walks claim you as you jump and skip towards the entrance and find the front where the performers' posters are stuck. eyes wandering around on the street as you picked up your phone, clicking the button open to press the number listed first in your contacts.

the line rings as you press it up against your ear. bottom lip slowly being bitten as you just want to know where he will be going—scrambling your mind and awaiting for him to pick up the call. it rings longer and longer as you realise he is not picking up and you dropped the hand holding the phone. then, you gaze at one side of the road; the path that you have always recognised when you need to escape this very place. and you run.

shadows surround you with streetlights becoming beacons, yet your feet are stepping onto the clear road swiftly, making the light unable to capture you anyway. you eyed the shiny entrance of the club. the familiar bouncer greets you as you step inside.

techno music makes the room vibrate as you have to wrap your arms in front of you. feeling your exposed shoulders brushing against people's bodies as your eyes are stuck to one corner of the room, a corner so dark to see from the outside. yet, you are very much attracted to it and the boy who resides there.

as you step into the barrier of darkness, his name flew out of your mouth.

"jay?" it rings. bouncing on the corners of the wall as your hand reaches out, trying to feel something warm and sturdy. but, you are instead being met with a rough-textured wall on the side where he usually stands. the side where he is so close to the barrier of the corner, the dj booth becomes a background of your view of him. panic began to show up as you turned around to look outside of the shadow, eyes seeing the booth with faces that you had recognised from meeting time to time in the past week. jay's friends.

as you approach, you see two of them making out with girls who are sitting on their laps. another wiping their nose of powder, and the one by the edge of the booth holding onto his glass full of vodka with coke on the melting rocks. his eyes, as well as the girl that snuggling beside him, look towards you when you approach.

"(y/n). right?" the last guy you noticed asks.

"yeah…" you looked around the booth as you scanned the view of it all. the boys all dress like how jay dresses, yet their behaviour is more open, extroverted—especially in contrast to the way jay lives his life. jay is the darkness that supports the neon colours of his friends' presence behaviour—creating the completeness of their friend group.

"do you know where jay is?" the question easily slips out of your lips as the two couples who were making out had stopped. one of the boys, who is letting a girl kiss him down his jawline, nudges the friend who was asking, like he knows some information and for him to say it.

"i don't know. he just went outside. earlier than what we used to see," the boy says, making you nod your head as you gesture back to them with an open palm to your chest. a small "thank you" coming from you as you turned back towards the entrance of the club.

if jay was not in the club, he must be somewhere you know—a place you and he have familiarised with. his favourite place in this hellhole of the city.

the nighttime's darkness permeates across the tunnels connecting the nearest exit to the concourse of the subway train. the usual crowded hallways are now filled only with you. your feet walk you down the path you are used to, standing on the moving escalator that runs between pillars that are holding the building above to not crush at the place you are standing. the whirlling of the machine enters your ears along with the sounds of the footsteps and the air conditioning fan that lets fresh air into the underground.

your eyes continue to look down on your sneakers-covered legs even as the train is moving. your body's buzzing all throughout because you are still, deep down, hoping that jay will be where you guess he will be. his motorcycle can take him anywhere he wants, from myeong-dong to gangnam to the hidden bar you both find yourself in for a different atmosphere take you haven't fully taken note of the location yet. and as the sound of the announcement rings through the near-empty train cars, saying the name of your stop, you push yourself up from the seat and let your body move on autopilot. down the familiar hallways, to the step out to the concrete ground outside, and finally, the path with trees and shrubs around it.

finally looking up, you gaze upon the beautiful view across from your figure; of the buildings with lights on, showing their occupancy even if there is no one in there for the night. you eyed the small shack you have called home for a week now—figuratively and literally—as you peer towards the open space under the bridge full of benches and tables for people to shield themselves from the sun, the rain, and the city. your eyes glance at the spot under the bridge, squinting your eyes ever so slightly to find something that reflects the light in the dark of what looks to be a white takeaway plastic bag. a smile grows instantly on your face before it falls as you take a deep breath and move forward.

"jay?" he could hear your voice calling from beside him, yet his eyes were stuck on the blinking needle on top of the tallest tower across the river. yet, you won't stop even if he doesn't answer.

jay sensed you sitting beside him, your thighs touching his as on his face formed a faint scowl that hurt you more as he continued to—softly—ignore you.

"i'm sorry," your words caught his attention, making him peek at you from the corner of his eyes slightly before returning to the scenery, "for making you see me that way. it's my fault i accepted it. And yeah, who you see with me is my ex-boyfriend, wonbin. the one that i told you about."

your hands grasp each other on your lap and you continued with your eyes closed shut, "i'm sorry for lying to you. i only had broken up with him officially right at that moment when i noticed you were there. i'm sorry for guiding you along like that. for the texts i have been sending to fill with only half-truths. for the many things i have to hide, knowing that everything i talked about will then be spread like what my friend says to him and-"

you felt warmth on top of your hands, looking down to see jay's on top of yours, curling his fingers to clasp onto them. "one by one," his comment so simple as you nodded. and so, you tell him everything. everything that you have been planning for the past week or two since you decided to live separately from wonbin's unit. context that will paint your situation for him completely, with no remorse.

"i am collecting enough money to fulfil my target for my mom and then go back home to geoje. seoul is not for me at all. i miss the slow pace style of living, thinking of trivial things on a daily basis. to be greeted by the sea every time you wake up and look out from your window." you gulped down. one explanation down as you skim at jay to find him looking back at you.

"i met wonbin, his bandmates, and their female friend when they were on a trip to geoje, finding themselves in the eatery i was working in. i was the only one on that shift with the owner as the chef alongside the barista for the drinks." a small smile grows on your face when the memories of the first encounter plays in your mind. "they were all so lovely, asking me to sit with them as we converse when i see that this particular guy—wonbin—is staring at me. so, i know at that moment that he is attracted to me. they asked me about many things and they came to know me well from the information they gathered. how i speak, how i think, how i perceive. especially wonbin, who could read it like it is written with big and thick-styled penmanship. so, they asked me to go to seoul with them when they're going back."

a scoff coming out of your lips as you remember more from that to continue, "i was thinking they were only kidding me. but i realise that they were serious, specifically after they all see this metaphorical glow when wonbin and i converse because we find a lot of things in common. i discuss with my mom about whether i should move away or not and all its many factors. i know that i still also some opportunities if i stay to work in busan, closer to my mom if she needs anything she can't get it herself so i could get the earliest bus and ride it to geoje. but, she convinces me to go to seoul. saying to me about bigger opportunities and such, but also taking risks for my life as well. so i go and as a result, wonbin and his friends are my lifelines here."

peeking back at jay, he had already turned his upper body to face you, his eyes telling you to continue on as you nodded, "wonbin and i established ourselves as officially dating when we arrived in seoul. though i do think the way he is seeing me transforms into a groupie persona towards the last few months. he never treats me seriously and only thinks of me as, like, this doll he owns. placing his hands on me whenever a customer gets to close to me whilst i was working at the pub. as months goes, i realised that he is very unloyal, fucking other girls behind my back even if we are in the same vicinity. it makes me feel so… limited." you rubbed your hands, "that people aren't on my side even when i talk about it. so, i started pushing the limits and went to the club that his friends introduced me to after a gig. during that escapade alone, i stayed in that corner a few times. not realising you were there with me."

you quickly put your hanging back on your lap, feeling your shoulder becoming lighter from the weight. "i realised i was at rock bottom. no other friends to confide in. no known familial connections with. no money for myself because i have to take care of our day-to-day lives. killing myself would probably be the easiest way out because i don't have anyone else here other than wonbin and his friends also enabling that, even the female friend who i wish would understand me more. one night, i decided to pull out a kitchen knife and," your hand forms into a gripping motion, placing it by your neck, "put it right there on my skin. the sharpness pierces through the surface as i felt warm blood flowing down. thinking about the hardships overshadowing the opportunities, about not being able to explore, and being stuck like i am in a cage."

with a hiss, you dropped your fist. "then, my mom's face shows up, she who is alone in geoje only with my extended families, expecting me to have fun and live my life happily here. i realised that i was selfish for wanting to go when i still have someone who is looking forward to my future no matter how it goes. so, i stopped and quickly wrote a letter to be sent to her, saying that i will be going home in a couple of months."

you brush your hair, feeling the cathartic turmoil that itches your skin as you are pouring everything out to jay; letting him know every truth to him. "then, around last month now. i decided to move out of wonbin's place to our shared female friend's unit. sleeping there at night but still getting my clothes and belongings out of his unit one by one when i found him fucking someone on our bed. he was blacked out drunk and pissed and so he beat me down, bruising my face that even his fucking paramour pitied me so much she rescue me from him. the next day, i walked away from the pub as we had an argument and how he doesn't even apologize to the bruises i have on my face. so i went to the club and to the corner when i finally realised you are there. that's where you come in, saving me as wonbin is chasing me down."

a chuckle came out of you, "the day after it, when you brought me home to the apartment tower and i told you about finding a new job, he tried to fuck me and my body is struggling to held on the morals i have set. to stop him. so when he found me living in his friend's place, he pushed himself on me. i realised that whatever plan i try is not going to work anymore and i have to act quick. i refuged somewhere else that night." jay's eyes shook as you told him what happened after he left, his head tilting down to cower himself before you.

"when i got the job at the snack bar, i realised he was tracking me down. so, every single thing i own in his apartment that i have taken out has to also move as i don't feel safe in that apartment tower anymore because he shows up again the next day and hangs out with our shared friend like nothing ever happened between us. i try my best to be hidden from him—sneakily sneak off in my shift until i secured the job and told the manager at the pub i resigned—and many more things. you and your friends are the only ones who know i work in that snack bar." you look at the small building across from you, feeling how his hand is staying still in yours.

jay is sitting there in silence, head tilted back up to glance at you. his hand move to curl more against yours as he collects the words he wants to say, but first and foremost, the word that you deserve to hear after every single puzzle piece is now here and how he solved it fast—seeing the bigger picture.

"i'm sorry for not protecting you enough." his words enter your ears, making your body tense as you peer at him, feeling the walls that are making you so sturdy melt away. jay flips your hand and lets his fingers lock in between yours. "where are you staying?"

"well," you eyed the shack near the river once again before turning to him, "come with me."

the boy lets you guide his movement with the interlocked hands, walking closer and closer towards the building you work at, where only the exterior lights are on—telling its presence there for the night owls like him and you. jay looks down and notices the glint of light in your hand as you both walk toward the door labelled "staff only", putting the key into its hole as you turn it and hear the clicking of the lock. pushing the door open and walking inside, a small luminescnet orange light greets jay as he surveys the room. the shelves nearest to the door have items labelled ranging from flours to oils—the area is where the snack bar stores its inventory. but behind that small lamp is a dark corner of the room. his familiar eyes to the darkness let him find a few bags and a suitcase residing beside a makeshift bed made of cardboard, a pillow, and a towel for the duvet. the space between his eyebrows wrinkled as he turned back to you, making you let out a thin smile.

"i convince my bosses i can open and close the store because i practically have nothing else to do. i've been staying here and they don't know about it." jay walks closer whilst hearing you talk, examining your living conditions now when he sees dried wax from candles gather into one spot, making him turn towards where the light comes from to see it being a candle placed on a small ceramic plate. "i've been using a bunch of candles so that they couldn't detect that i'm staying here by the electricity meter." you spoke out, looking at the corner you've been calling home. even with its less-than-likely situation, you felt safer here than staying at ningning's when wonbin could just barge into the room.

"i wanted to buy some groceries for myself today when i came across wonbin. he's egging me on again about me 'not being confident in him' and all that stuff. we are technically separated, but not once have i verbalised that we are over because i just think that he had already stopped seeing me that way." your expression becomes a faint frown as you sigh.

"for one last time, i trust him, so he brings me back to his friends and to the venue once again. them asking about my whereabouts and i had to stay as quiet as possible so they couldn't track me down for him. love is finicky when you still feel the feelings for the person you love so confidently in front of you. wonbin is better at performing than the first time i saw him and i'm very proud of him for that. but, my body is just…" a huge exhale came out of you, "too familiar with him that whenever he touches me. like a snap," you say while doing a snap!, "i lost control. i realised i have never been in control when i am with him, but then i saw you and start to think about the things i have taken control for myself to get rid of him. the last one is to reclaim that control of mine on him. and so i did and chase down after you."

you turn around and face him, stepping closer as you look at him with remorse, "you've been the most supportive person i have had in a while. i apologise for stringing you along for whatever has happened in this short relationship we had. you're my saviour not only from wonbin, but from the harshness of seoul. you've made me less lonely, though i know you like to be alone even under the neon signs at night. i don't know if you still want to be friends, or whatever this is, with me. but i thank you for that. and when the time comes and i have enough to meet my financial target, i will buy the first ticket back to geoje no matter how expensive-"

his body acts after you say your last words, leaning in to kiss your breath away. your eyes blink into close as your frown fades and are replaced with furrowed eyebrows before he lets go. his breath blows on your skin as he glances you in the eyes. "i don't know if i could let you go that easily."

jay moves his head back to let you see his face as a whole, words are forming on the tip of his tongue, of something he wanted to say to you. "i have fallen for you, (y/n). i have fallen for your enthusiasm to learn, your bravery, and your resilience. as i said the last time, i'm here for you." his hand connected with yours. "you can stay with me. live with me and we will see how this goes for us."

"i don't want to burden you like that-"

"you won't be burdening me," jay replies immediately, a smirk shows on his face as he continues, "you've been making me less lonely as well."

a tear fell down the corner of your eye and when you wanted to wipe it away, jay beats you to it as you felt his thumb pressing down your cheek. "let me help you." he mumbles of for you. and with a long breath, you nodded at his words as you leaned into his hand that was cupping your face.

jay mounted the bike first as he put your travel bag in front of him, the plastic bag of the takeaway from the chinese food street vendor hanging on his left handlebar, and you carefully mounted the vehicle behind the suitcase to create a barrier for him and you as you stood with your heavy backpack—slowly hugging the huge bag and to some of its space on your lap as you gently move on the seat.

"will you be okay?" the engine revving by him at the front, as you're scared the bike will tumble out of balance.

"i'll keep it slow," jay replied, and with a push, the bike lurches. the way jay rides the bike is very clean; gone are the swerves between cars as he stays in one lane the entire time, even if the streets are mostly empty. but the wind still blows against both of your hairs as you look around the cityscape of seoul. the buildings that were were getting denser and denser as jay brought you to his neighbourhood, further away from the main streets.

parking at the residential parking lot, he helps you with the suitcase as you carry the travel bag and backpack full of your important belongings. you both enter the apartment tower and realise how clean it looks. no cracking walls and chipping paint, the tiles are placed so smoothly that you couldn't see the edges of each individual tile. the flight of stairs from your last apartment tower is replaced by a lift replaced as he presses the button open for you. silence spreading against the surfaces as you stood beside each other, sensing the floor beneath you ascending to the destination.

jay walks before you, dragging the suitcase by the handle as he stands in front of a door, pushing in the key before unlocking it. stepping inside, the first room you see is dimly lit with a tint of blue from the luminescent light—similar to the ambience of your space in the storage room of the snack bar. but, as you push your shoes off by the front door and step onto the floor made by wooden panels, you can see the room expanding. a kitchen area by the door that houses a little aquarium with a bunch of colourful small fishes. a personal computer sits on a desk near a window overlooking the view of the streets down below and the skyline visible from this floor.

the boy steps aside as he lets you look around the space. your eyes studied the surface of the coffee table to see documents, numerous documents of black ink on white paper scattered around. many of them are pristine printing, but some have some handwriting on them—like a study case for someone who is learning. you then move towards the window of the living area, finding a desk full of CDs in their cases and two guitar cases beside it—both electric and acoustic—making a pout form on your face.

"water?" you heard him say beside you as he hands you a glass of water. picking it up, you drink it down and don't stop—not realising how dehydrated you have been. you gulp all of it down until there is nothing left before placing it down on the coffee table. turning back towards his figure, he had pulled off his leather jacket and placed it on the couch, letting you see his build in the black t-shirt. how sturdy his shoulders look as you have leaned on them time to time on the bike that he rides.

your hand reaches out to him—fingers moving from curling to stretching—as he turns and meets yours with his. that is when he pulls you in and makes you stand before him. his free hand spread on your back, pushing you against him as he looks into your eyes with his own that is full of something that you have never felt in this way. wanting to see them closer, you lean your forehead against his, taking into consideration his confession as you give multiple nods.

"yeah," you started, "i like you, jay. i was thinking we were just friends, but that kiss last time changed that. and this time too. i know that i'm not going to be a perfect companion for you, but i wish you would be here with me on my healing journey."

you look downwards at his face to see his smile that has lifted up his lips, a smile with beautiful dimples on both cheeks. your hand moves to his nape, playing with the ends of his hair as you lean in closer, lips against his ear.

"i'm yours, jay. i'm yours to protect. yours to care. and i will do it back for you, if you let me," you mumbled, every breath you push out gracing his skin as you felt him nodding his head. that is when you felt his hand cupping your face and guiding your face back in front of his before pushing forward to let both of your pairs of lips kiss. your breath is taken away instantly as you feel the sparks between you explode your heart in a blooming fashion—unwrapping the rope that was holding you to that ex-boyfriend of yours and replacing it with a beautiful string to connect it with the boy in front of you.

the emotion that jay exuded whilst he was looking at you is lust with a hint of something emotional. something you replicate with your action as he guides you, licking your lips to make you open your mouth wider. he pushes his tongue to meet yours and to dance with each other. your other hand is grasping onto his shoulder blade so tight that you don't want to let him go right now—after everything clicks into your mind that you do have someone supporting you unconditionally. pulling himself back, you felt the coolness around your lips that was smeared with each other's saliva. jay's hand that is on your back guides you towards the open doorframe as he wraps himself around you from behind.

he guides you to sit on the bed as the light of the outside enters through the window covered by the sheer curtain. the view from the bedroom overlooks a huge street that looks so high up as you pivot back to face him. your palms are pushing yourself to sit upright as you bite your lip, staring up and down at how jay is pulling off his t-shirt, letting you see his tan golden skin even under minimal lighting. his arms are muscular and flex when they move, as your eyes are trailing from them to his torso and find the faint lines of his abdominal muscles

he's beautiful.

with a surge of confidence, you pull the hem of your tank top as you take it off upwards, feeling how free you are as jay looks at your exposed torso area. standing up, you step before him as you reach to the front of your neck, feeling the clasp of your choker as you pull it off like a belt. the skin breathes when it becomes loose before you pull one end with your movement. jay look as you show him the scar—the fear of exposing it is gone when it comes to him—as you drop the choker on the floor with his t-shirt and your top.

with another step closer, you felt how his chest grazed against your covered breasts. looking deep into his eyes, you speak, "i'm yours-"

he cuts you off with a kiss and you can feel the push of the skin-to-skin contact: goosebumps growing on your arms because of it. when you felt him moving his kisses down to your neck, your hands reach behind your back to unhook your bra as the cup falls from going lax—letting him pull them down as he kisses down the valley between your boobs. your hand reaches for his—the rightful person to touch you like this, as jay's touch replaces everything that was before it. his breath against your nipple makes it getting perky, a chuckle coming out from him as licks it before giving a suck whilst his hand reaches and plays with the other. your head leans back as your breathless moans come out, curling your fingers in his locks of hair before tilting down to watch and focus on his movement that is pleasuring you more and more.

jay takes the lead when he pushes you back onto the bed, making you move until your head finds his pillows when he climbs on top and kneels between your spread legs. his hand smooths down from below your boobs before meeting your navel and then the button and zipper of your jean pants. nodding your head, he pushes the button open and zips down the zipper before dragging them down your legs alongside your underwear. pushing them to the ground, he stands up by the front of the bed. you bit your bottom lip harder when you watch as he peels off all of his lower clothing pieces—letting you see just how big he is as he wraps his hand around his member—seeing how it grows bigger with just a few strokes. in return, you lick to of your fingertips and open your legs for him, feeling the coolness of your pre-cum as you slide your fingers against your slit while the other brushes against your boob—making you more aroused as you can't help to roll your eyes when you felt how sensitive your clitoris is.

he lets out a growl before lying down by your core, littering your thighs with kisses as you squirm underneath him. you put your forearms beside you as you push up, viewing how his eyes are looking at you as he finds your lower lips and licks around them. your hand moves back to your core, letting a finger dragged up from the top of your opening towards where your clit is—pushing it down as you let out a gasp, telling him where it is located as he replaces it with his thumb. jay presses down on it hard, making your body quiver as your jaw drops and gasps coming out of you.

when you felt his tongue dragging against your opening, you let out a moan that made you cover your mouth up—having never felt this as your ex-boyfriend only ever cared about himself when you both were having sex. your fingers found his hair once again, holding onto them as you look at how he is enjoying pleasuring you.

"jay…" you moaned out in a sigh, letting your head fall onto the pillow with your legs moving to lie on his upper back, making him grip onto your calf as he pushes you wider for him. then, you felt his finger prodding the hole and caressing the rim before pushing in, making your walls clamp on him as he groans at the tightness.

"please…" another moan left you as you look down to meet his gaze, making him pushing another finger in as he widens them and pushes against your walls.

"preparing you for me," he finally spoke, making you wetter than ever as you can feel him opening you up and even motioning as you hear the moisture sound coming from his fingers penetrating you. jay's tongue returns as he licks and give a slight suck on your clitoris, using every might of his to be patient—but also a revenge for making him worry and even mad at you.

"i'm ready- c- cum-" you voiced out as your legs tremble and a white flash goes over your vision, feeling another gush of arousal coating his fingers as he licks the lips up, letting him taste your cum and making him hum. then, his fingers are gone as you whine out with creased eyebrows. then, he climbs fully onto the bed and kneels between your legs. his fingers are shining from your release as he lets the same hand wrapped around his shaft—now hard and veiny—before stroking it to let the blood flow more.

as your hand finds his back, you reach up to give a single kiss on his lips. then, you wet your palm with your saliva and help stroking him, feeling the bluntness of his glans as you felt his pre-cum coming out—making you spread them down his hard cock. the width of your palm is only able to wrap around half the sixe of his penis length as he helps with stroking the other half. with his hand wrapped around the base as you let go to lie fully down on the bed, you hiss as he playfully drags the head across your opening. playing around by tapping it against your clit as your breath becomes more unstable. and when he claims you by pushing his cock in, your heartbeat's pace becomes quicker.

his hips move slowly as he looks down on you, watching as you nod your head and mouth "yes" on repeat. your eyes flicking back into your skull as he pushes in deeper and deeper—more than half of him now inside you. your walls continue to clamp down around him, making him catch his breath as he finally fully enters you. your hand teasingly lifts up to press down on the hardness beneath your belly button, making both of you moan as you can feel him within you and he can sense the pressure of your hand.

"fuck!" he retorted as you nodded at him.

"move, please. make me yours," you let out, putting your trust in him. you felt him pull out halfway before plunging back inside, again and again, until he felt your arousal coating him and making it smoother to slide in you. it continues until he sees the pain fading from your face and he starts adjusting the pace. the moans that are getting louder and louder make you cover it with your palm before jay removes it and muffles it with his lips. continuing as the pace gets faster and faster and how you wrapped your legs behind him.

sweats start to form around your and his bodies as your forehead sticks against his, feeling how his face scrunches as the pleasure kicks him too. your hands clawing on his back muscles as he swallows your moans that are getting more frequent. your walls forming to accommodate his shape as the moist sound continues on. then, he starts to change his pace—focusing on thrusting slowly and deep as his tip even slips out of your hole, making you grab his now wet hard cock and guide him as he thrust deep until it reaches your cervix, brushing your g-spot.

lust dissipates in his eyes as you cup jay's face with your hand. now, all the love that is hiding beneath it shows up as he leans into your touch. his hand that is resting beside you on the pillow moves to the back of your head and pushes it up, making your body fold as you see him sinking himself deep inside you. the pleasure spreading across your body as you see how he dissapears when you become full, eyes looking up at his face that as he also watches the way his cock enters you.

"i'm not letting you go easily," he whispers to himself, but with such a small distance, you can hear it as you continue to nod, eyes staring up to meet his as you reply with the way your eyes gaze at him. groans and moans decorate the space between the two of you as he reads your body language, taking your physique into his mind so he could remember every aspect of it.

with every push, you are getting closer and closer to reaching the peak that he is taking you to, making you relax on the bed as he brushes his body against you. chest to chest. hips to hips. you give him a lasting kiss as you mouthed "cum" against his lips before your jaw drops. white flashes show up again as he holds your back as you arch into him. a moan coming out loud as he slams his lips onto yours, his pace is getting faster as you enter overstimulation when you feel his groan against your lips and his few thrusts become so deep yet erratic. then, you felt warm liquid spurting against your walls.

you both breathe out heavily against each other. his hands massaging your hips as you felt his release, making you feel so full inside as it flows out to the opening of your hole. your face furrowed with many emotions swirling around as you hug him, feeling his kisses stained across your scarred neck as you can't help but to sob. jay doesn't need to ask you anything about it and he lets you have this release, making you anchored against him as you echoed what he whispered before towards him.

"i won't let go of you either."

-

as he opened the closed lids of his eyes, jay blinked as the sun glistened on him and a small smile formed on his face.

he looks outside the window beside him, your head resting against his shoulder with both of your hands linked as the trees and plain greenery greet him along the train track. a rare scenery to admire when he found himself growing up in a concrete jungle. the view slowly morphs from an overall green-colored view to specks of houses adding in. lone houses stand between fields of what looks to be rice and root vegetables before the tunnel consumes them in the darkness. the chugging of the train continues as it navigates the shadow-covered tracks, when he sees the light seeping into it from the side and expands as the view before him makes gasps coming out.

hills full of buildings on one side as the more the train goes on the track, the more he finds numerous towers showing—not as high as what seoul has to offered, but still enough to instill in him the urban area you have mentioned to him numerous times about this city. as the track continues to run into neighborhoods of people on both side, jay watches them living their lives as he hear loud giggles when he sees children waving towards the moving train—greeting the people into their hometown. then the sign tells him he has arrived at his destination.

busan.

the morning after you decided to stay with him, jay had called his dad about the busan office he knows his family's company have—as it is one of korea's main hubs for trading, especially with ships to and from japan and other countries reached by sea. his life, which was full of darkness and uncertainty, has obscured much of what he wants in his future. but now with you by his side, the misty path becomes clearer as he could sense his dad's surprised joy as his son wants to take his job seriously. but on one condition.

"can i work at the busan office?" he had asked, eyes on the living room as he heard the sound of the shower water running with you inside, cleaning yourself up.

his dad's agreement continues with a few more questions as he finally tells him about you and also his tiredness of living in a swift-paced seoul. and so, after two months from that night when you lived with him, he decided to move away with you. other than his seriousness in this relationship with you, he also wants to explore more of korea because seoul is not everything. jay was too young when he lived in seattle and that made him only have vivid memories when he remembered living there. and because of the unreclaimed memory, he now pushes himself outside of his comfort zone. to create new ones that could elevate him and let him explore more.

when he drags his suitcase and carries his travel bags as you do your own, you both walk towards the arrival area. then he sees you speedwalking in front of him, swerving around the sea of people as you rush forward and let go of your bags you are holding with your hands. arms opened wide to hug an older woman who is much shorter than he and you. jay approaches as you turn around, wiping your tears as the older woman stares up at him.

"this is my mother. and mom, this is my boyfriend," you say with your arms wrapping her in your embrace. jay could see your features in her face as a shocked expression shows up when she gazes at the boy before him.

"you didn't tell me he is so handsome!" she says before grasping for his hand, making him let out a small smile.

"my name is jongseong, ma'am," he replies as your mother steps forward, eyes glimmering with joy before looking back at her child, who is just looking at her sheepishly.

"oh yes, i do know your name. believe me when i was surprised to see a beautifully aggressive motorcycle arriving in front of my house with the name of park jongseong attached to it." her giggles come out as he pinpoints another similairty your mom has with you before glancing towards you who has widen eyes. "no worries about it, jay. (y/n) did mention it in the letter she sent to me a month ago. nice to finally meet you, son," her voice calls to him before she helps with your and his travel bags. the motherly instinct kicking in. "well, we don't want mr. jeon to wait for too long. he still has a job to do," she states as you three walk toward the departure.

your voice clashes with your mom, how she says that she is preparing your favourite food of hers back at your childhood home—which he couldn't wait to taste. jay had heard many stories about geoje from you, from how you and your friends are riding around the scooter all around the island and visiting the towns on one side and the other side of the island. he wants to do it too, riding around in nature with his bike and you behind him showing the road.

"and how about the house?" she asks.

"we still have to go meet the realtor in two days to get the key and documents. jjongie here has to also adapt to his job at his new office because he will be working there next monday. and after we moved into that house, i had to find my own job. but at least, i am closer to you, mom." you said so eloquently, using the nickname you made for him after he had told you of his birth name.

turning your head, you find him smiling at you as he puts his arm around the back of your shoulders whilst you follow your mom, who is guiding you towards the sedan car with your neighbour waiting to drive the two of you back to your childhood home. in his mind, he can already imagine the trees covering the house and the roads. replacing the neon lights with streaking sunlight as he and you ride along the roads with his bike.

finally, for the first time in a long time, he lets the sun shine on him once again. the light embraces your looming selves—knowing that both of you aren't so lonely anymore before when you have each other.

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[karlachismylife]

Thots on how they would react if you got sick?

(totally not self indulgent right now)

Oh no, my lovely spouse is sick :( Get well soon, lovie, and here are some little speedrun headcanons for you ahead of everything, as a treatment!! Beware, there are some NSFW parts under the cut :) So MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT I swear I get so upset every time I have to block some ageless blog. If it's so hard to put your age in the bio, just DO NOT TOUCH THE POST!! I'd rather keep you around to read my SFW pieces than block you altogether.

Okay sorry for yelling, here we go

CW: gn!sick!reader, reader is somewhat being stubborn about getting treatment at some points, sickness unspecified, but I wrote with something cold-adjacent in mind since we're in the cold season, a bit of controlling behavior from Ghost and Price.

Soap is Mister Indulgence. Any cravings you get, be it three kilograms of crisps for breakfast or his Mam's soup you suddenly want to taste at 2 am, he's getting his ass out of bed and runs to the store or puts on an apron to make the soup. You want some tea with sugar and lemon? How much teaspoons of sugar? What, you tried it and turned out you wanted a teaspoon less? No worries, he'll make it again. You wanna binge your favourite show? Listen to "your" song fifty times in a row? Cuddle and nap on his hot chest for eight hours? Whatever you want, bonnie, his Maw always said that good mood is the most important step in getting better, so Johnny would rather die than not keep you satisfied during sick time.

He might not be the most well-versed in medical stuff, but he definitely uses his Mam's knowledge (and she is one wise woman, I tell you) and whatever experience he has himself to get you both real treatment and some homemade remedies. Swears he doesn't get sick (ever, bonnie!) when you try to shoo him away worried he'll catch whatever you have.

Drops sick the very next day you finally are all good again (and behaves as if he's actually dying, even though he has like three times lighter symptoms than you cuz that man has an immune system of a beast).

Ghost is mean about it, cruel and ruthless. At least that's what you tell him when he wakes you up to make you drink some medicine or, even worse, change you out of your sweaty pjs, help you bathe and (this one is almost breakup-worthy betrayal) take you to a doctor. No amount of pleading, whining and pouting can deter him from making sure you're getting appropriate treatment.

Truth be told, he's probably blaming himself, because under his care you should've never gotten sick in the first place. This means he's probably checking your wardrobe and adding some warmer clothes and shoes (no more wearing old sneakers when it's already rain season!) to it, probably inspecting all the food you've eaten recently in case it was bad, proofing all the windows against drafts... and somehow he still finds time to be around you all the time, holding you in your fever-induced sleep, changing cold wet towels on your forehead and caring for you.

Might or might not catch the sickness from you, which reveals that he's an even worse patient than you, constantly grumpy, wrapped in three blankets and trying to put an indifferent face, but so, so pathetic when the fever gets actually high. He will be good if you promise to hold him in your lap and stroke his hair with cold fingers.

Gaz isn't as indulgent as Soap, but he gives you a lot of autonomy and trusts that you know best what treatment helps you. So if you say you don't feel like you need to call a doctor, he won't force you; he'll buy the medicine you tell him to buy, and if he thinks it's not the best choice, he'll just suggest an alternative, leaving the final decision up to you. Also has some homemade remedies ready to go if you're willing to try them, but leans heavily towards scientifically proven treatments.

He definitely tries to keep you if not active (no hikes or something, but maybe little walks around the apartment once the worst wave passes) then at least entertained, and not in "200 episodes of a dumb sitcom watched alone" way. Of course, if that's what you're feeling, get your sitcom fill, angel (he's not one to judge, he is keeping up with like a hundred series somehow), but if you're up to play some games, Kyle is more than happy to. Puzzles, card games, board games - maybe not so much computer games, since he wants you to be mindful of your eyes health, but a little bit? Sure. If you don't wanna play games, he still wants to keep you company so that you don't feel like you're missing out on life alone in your bed.

Probably the one who is the least likely to catch your sickness, because he ACTUALLY never gets sick, that pretty boy possesses some magic, I'm telling ya. Buf if he somehow does, he's the best patient who doesn't even need your help (but will accept it since he doesn't want you to feel guilty and it's just nice). For the three days that he's sick before he's healthier than ever.

Price is also very insistent on you getting proper treatment, but he doesn't go about it in Ghost's stern manner - no, he's a sly, smart dog, he's sweettalking you into thinking half of it is your own idea and he's just there to provide. If he needs to, he plays up his worried behavior and voila, you're already taking your medicine and days off from studies or work, simply because you don't want to worry your John's bleeding heart. Drops casually something like "good thing doc's office is on the way to the base, I can drop you off before finishing that bloody report they're wanting my head for and then pick you up, lovie" - and when you note that you actually don't feel like your sickness is doctor visit worthy, he sighs and tells you that he'll stay with you then. Of course now you have to agree, you can't let him get in trouble with the report simply because you didn't want to go to the doctor!

In all the other aspects he is absolutely doting and spoiling. Will casually look through fifteen stores until he finds the exact type of natural juice gummies you once mentioned your parents got you when you were sick. Absolutely no smoking around you or even in the apartment - and he also makes sure he doesn't smell too much of tobacco before coming into your room. Will baby you in whatever way you want (yes, he will read you your book aloud) or simply stay at your side to assist you with different things if you're not into that. But god forbid you try to get back to work or studying before John Price deems you recovered enough...

Probably catches the sickness, but pretends he didn't until it's too obvious to deny. Will do all the things he reprimanded you for: try to work, keep smoking, avoid doctor etc.

Hyena!141 bonus: they absolutely cuddle you in their hyena form and do not shift into humans when you need them to fetch something like a pillow or more paper tissues. They're your fluffy cuddle buddies that are there to grumble and purr for you soothingly, keep the chills away and lick your forehead, nape and wrists to cool the fever down. Shove their snouts in different places on your body to check the temperature (no thermometer needed!) and tickle you, give you paw massages if your muscles ache and suddenly get on their best behavior (yes, even Soap). Furry menaces who? Not them, they're the sweetest boys!

NSFW under the cut, once again, minors and ageless blogs DNI or I'll block you (and cry about it!)

CW: gn!reader, oral sex, fingering, brat tamer Ghost (so it's consensual in case I didn't make it clear enough), penetrative sex with Gaz (bottom!gn!reader).

Soap is also number one advocate of "sex is proper treatment", so if you're not feeling too bad and have some energy to spare, he'll gladly eat you out and unleash his oral fixation on you. As treatment, of course. Also maybe because you're so hot that you're practically burning his tongue and it feels as if he dipped his face into the sweetest, freshly-baked pie, when you squeeze his mug between your overheating thighs. He'll do more if that's what you want, but if all you want is to come on his face, he'll lick, suck and rub as much as you need - yes, he spilled in his sweatpants just from pleasuring you and grinding against the sheets, but can you really blame him for enjoying a warm meal a little too much? Will probably compare your "sick" taste to your "healthy" one. No, he does not know what the word "shame" means.

Ghost is reluctant to have sex when you're sick, because, well... you're sick, you shouldn't exhaust your body, because it needs all the strength to fight whatever it is you caught. But once you start getting better (and as a result much, much brattier, since now you have the energy to not just whine and pout, but also to be a little defiant shit), he is absolutely using his fingers to reward or punish you for complying or resisting the treatment. Are you being good, taking your medicine, measuring your body temperature and doing whatever else doctor told you to? Good, you deserve to cum on his fingers, lovie, just lean back and let him do all the work. What's that, you don't wanna drink your medicine, because it tastes bad, and you hid the thermometer? Well, love, he hopes you don't mind getting your temperature checked a little more old-fashioned way. And if you don't like your medicine, maybe having his fingers in your mouth, muffling all your protests, will change your mind. After all, that's what you wanted to achieve by being a brat, didn't you?

Gaz is already the king of gentle sex, but if you ask him to indulge you while you're sick, he'll be as tender as only molten marshmallow fluff can be. Caressing your feverish skin with his soft palms, making sure to avoid possibly hurting joints or muscles, going down on you with his sweet, honeyed mouth before even trying anything else. Can actually give you a perfect massage (even the normal kind) and add some lightweight petting and fingering to it. If you want to have penetrative sex though, he finds the best position (probably spooning, his arm cradling your head so it doesn't spin or hurt, and your body resting without any extreme stretches or strains) and takes you slowly and carefully. Doesn't let you worry about his orgasm at all, but if you feel like cockwarming him, he won't say no, that's for sure :) let him soak in some of that heat directly from you, angel, eh?

Price will probably need the most persuasion to engage with you sexually during your sick time, he is worrying about you too much, so the best you can get is probably his fingers and mouth closer to you already getting fully healthy again. He's just scared he'll go too rough on you regardless of how careful he's trying to be, lovie. But if he ends up catching you masturbating (and failing probably, since you're still too weak for such activities), he'll have no choice but to help you finish, careful tongue strokes and finger movements along with soft grumbling about him "leaving you just for five minutes, and you're already up to no good, love!" Don't let him fool you, he's the happiest man, because he both gets to pleasure his partner and because this means you're getting better.

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | VII

RAAAAAAAAAAAAA

not a super eventful chapter im le sorry but on my LIFE next chapter is going to be *chefs kiss* i PROMISE!!! i really wanted to get some reader and world building done

also just incase i never mentioned it! this is a collgeAU where instead of blackwell being like an "extended highschool" its straight up a college lol cant remember if i ever said that!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

warnings: language, very slight mentions of s/a

want to support me? here’s my ko-fi!

__

When you wake up, blurry eyed and half conscious, Nathan’s gone. The absence of him is a heavy one. It always is.

Sunlight dances through the curtains and bathes you in the glorious morning sky, and you can’t help but sprawl out into a cat-like stretch. Something crinkles in the shifting blankets, lost until you fish through the covers and find what looks to be another polaroid photo. You hadn’t seen this one amongst the others, probably stuck inside the bag and far from your prying eye. 

The photo is pretty as always. Nathan’s eye is never short of taste. It’s you, holding a bat high overhead moments from heaving it down on the poor toaster locked in your path of destruction. Poor thing never stood a chance.

Scribbled on the bottom of the photo is haphazard writing. 80% unintelligible scribbles but what you can make out is a simple message: txt me when ur fun again

 Again. Your heart stutters in your chest and warmth spreads over your cheeks, giddy. Although it was evident your time yesterday was good, to see it in writing was something else entirely. He thought you were fun.

Buzzing excitement is quick to die down, however, when you grab your phone sitting on the nightstand. Through squinted eyes, you read a message from a certain someone you hadn’t expected to hear from at all. Those warm and fuzzy feelings drop with your stomach into ice cold sweats. To make matters worse, those aren’t even the only notifications. After weeks of socials drier than a drought, suddenly your entire screen is covered in text after text from an assortment of names. 

What could have happened now? What could possibly be next for you? 

Maybe you were speedrunning this social suicide thing quicker than you’d originally anticipated. 

But then you actually chill out enough to read the first message you can focus on. It’s from Kaz, reading a simple, im so sorry. call me please. 

Your eyebrows knit together and then you see the next contact name- Lance. 

can we talk? i know you probably hate me

If you were confused before then it had nothing on how you felt now. Even more so when you realize you’ve got a social media message from none other than Victoria Chase. It’s your first and only ever interaction with the Queen Bee of Blackwell Academy. Everything you knew of her was all from afar, either out of observation passing her by in the halls or the things Nathan had told you when he felt particularly chatty. 

Clearly first impressions aren't your strong suite, but regardless she lived as something… Almost untouchable in your brain. Rich, spoiled, and talented. Throwing others under the bus to gain a step above seemed to come as easy to her as breathing, but that was the name of the game, afterall. Truly living the art-student dream and lapping up all that it had to offer. But then you also knew things that were… Sweeter. She cared for Nathan in ways no one would be able to fathom. Defended him at every turn and became something of stability for him. His smoking buddy on quiet weekends, his go-to when shit got particularly bad. So surely there was a heart in there beyond all the rich-kid bullshit. 

Either way, her text rang short and sweet. And particularly mysterious. 

your welcome. 

When you're locked into staring at the message as though somehow it would change before your very eyes, your attention shifts to another message from Lance skirting over your screen. 

i need you to call me. seriously

You almost ignore him again. It’d be so easy to- just turn your phone off or toss it to the edge of the bed and bury your head under the pillow. Whatever was going on, you surely didn’t have the energy to deal with. But you bring the phone to your ear anyways, because your anxious curiosity is mounting by the second. 

He answers on the first ring. 

For a reason you don’t think you’d ever truly be able to grasp, Victoria had been a real player for your humble little team. By the graces of god, or perhaps you were due some good karma, she’d taken it upon her own shoulders to bring the good word to light- Tate was a fucking freak. Said it with her chest and said it on her socials, even wrote it on her little white board outside her dorm door. Called him a dog chasing tail who wasn’t above being nasty to get it. 

And anyone, anyone peddling that disgusting rumor about you was nothing more than scummy. 

Lance spilled apologies like water. You nodded along with every sentence of his but man, was your brain itching to lay into him. Choice words danced at the tip of your tongue until you were forced to chew the inside of your cheek to avoid saying those pretty shitty things to your former friend. When he finished his blubbering about how he never thought Tate would do this, you found yourself at an odd standstill. 

The obvious course of action for you would be to forgive him. Swallow down all those harsh words and move on as if nothing had happened because that’s what you always did. Get it all over with and push on through this miserable arc. 

You do, ultimately, accept his apology. It’s what you do best. But fuck does it taste bad in the back of your throat. Fuck, for the first time in your life, the easy choice feels like betraying yourself somehow. Like you were better than this. He sniffles and he says thank you but your face is twisting into a scowl and your chest has actually begun to hurt with anger. Anger, and the bitter realization that was the reality of being a nobody. 

Your word meant nothing to them. It took Victoria for them to fucking believe you. 

Wouldn’t even hear you out, for god's sake. The looks on their faces drove you mad, lived within the wrinkles of your brain and followed you through your dreams night after night. 

Kaz calls you less than a minute after Lance hangs up so you know damn sure he went and told her you’ve decided to offer him the time of day. You answer again and prepare for the onslaught of sorry’s and tears. And boy, does she bring it. 

I’m so sorry, she’d hiccuped over the line. I was wrong about him. I should have believed you. 

Her woes don’t settle until the very moment you’re pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing. It was all… So much. From having to mentally relive the moments before Nathan had once again pulled you from the fire all the way through the despair of being called a liar, to now, this very moment. You should be happy. You should be feeling grateful and thanking the stars for letting you start to unbag all these horrible feelings, but you just… Don’t. 

You’re so pissed off and betrayed that you can’t even begin to want to unpackage it all. 

Through grit teeth, you tell her you get it, and then you hang up. She doesn’t bother with a follow up text.

Running a hand through your hair, you can’t help but wonder if her crocodile tears halted the very second the line dropped. If any of it from either of them was real, actually. Perhaps they’d just wanted to stay on your good side after connecting some pretty serious dots and realized you’d made pretty sizable connections in the last couple weeks. As far as they knew, you were buddying with the Academy’s princess herself, and by extension, Nathan Prescott.

And no one wanted to fuck with Nathan Prescott. 

But you couldn’t understand why Victoria would double down like this. It wasn’t entirely in your defense, as Tate was, in fact, a dog, but she had nothing to gain from bad mouthing him. Surely, surely, it had something to do with Nathan. 

Always looking out for you. Watching your back when you don’t even realize it. 

An odd limbo of emotions has you stuck in place. On one hand, it’s a downright relief to know that it was all over, regardless how you felt or not. And now it’d be that much harder for Tate to make some other poor girl a victim of his. But on the other hand…  On the other hand, you wanted to throw your middle fingers up and lay into your former friends like they deserved. They’d left you at your worst and turned a cold shoulder to someone in need. Made you feel like the bad guy after getting roofied. 

You spent most of your nights praying to god that Tate would be struck by lightning. That, and that somehow your friends would open their damn eyes and realize what they’d said and show up with ice cream and movies. Back then you’d have let it all slide just to have them back. Friends, some harmless fun. A sense of belonging. But they never did. Not until now, when the words came from a different, better voice. 

God clearly was not on your side. Not in those regards, anyways, because ultimately despite it all you ended up with Nathan every single time. In his bed, in his truck, tucked into his bag small and laminated and frozen in time forever. Eternalized. Nothing ever truly felt real like it did with him. Nothing was out of obligation, or some mandatory upkeep to stoke the fire of friendships. Just real, raw, fun. 

So maybe God was on your side, after all. Maybe he’d been trying to rattle sense back into you this whole time, teach you to control the reigns of your own life for once. 

The last time you’d felt anything even close to the fire of Nathan was all the way back in highschool. Your childhood friend was that of teachers' nightmares- hot tempered and outspoken, giving the school a run for its money and standing up for you when you’d refuse to do the grueling work yourself. And when you’d try to drag her away with your tail tucked between your legs, she would stand tall. For you. Because she knew that under all your layers of timidity, there was a roaring sea of festering frustrations. She knew it before you even did, and she tried to help it find its way out in vain. 

You were well and truly closed off. And fuck, afraid, to make the noise. 

You struggled with it all four years, and you struggled even worse during graduation when she announced she’d be carted off to California for college. She begged you to come, told you it’d teach you all kinds of things, but… You just couldn’t. Your mom had already gotten you set up nice and tight with Blackwell, and she had such high hopes for you. 

You couldn’t bear to disappoint her, could you?

And so, when summer break rolled around and she packed the last of her boxes into her little truck, you realized you no longer had the cloak of her protecting you. That, and you realized she had lived her days to their fullest and you had almost nothing to show for yours. Decent enough grades but that was about it when your only friend vanished into thin air. You had been too afraid to rock those boats, you couldn’t even understand why she would want to rock the boat in the first place. Why she never gave a shit when her locker was vandalized, and why she barely batted an eye when her backpack was sent sprawling along the hallways floor gutted and ruffled.

You just didn’t see life the way she did- exciting and bright. Something to love and tame. 

But… Maybe you were starting to get it now. Apparently you have a tendency to gravitate towards those raising hell and fire at every turn. Real and unapologetic and so unlike you. 

At the edge of your bed, your phone calls to you. 

Maybe sometime you’ll give her a ring. You’d texted her here and there, had a few decent conversations, but you hadn’t yet gotten the drive to actually sit down and call her in quite some time. For the first time in your life, you were occupied and you were busy. And this time you had stories of your own to tell. 

For now, you toss yourself out of bed and resume your earlier stretch. Joints pop, your lower back cries out in distress. The usual.

Class would be starting in little less than an hour which left you just enough time to hop into the shower and get dressed in whatever you found hanging up. The entire time you rehearsed what you would say if you happened to bump into Victoria- if she even would acknowledge you at all. You were stuck between the grateful thank you and confusing why. Of course you knew deep in your heart that it involved Nathan. Everything good always does, it seems. But you wanted to hear it. 

Anxiety bubbles up in your chest as your daily routine comes to a finish. Hair, teeth, grab your bag and your keys. Just like any other day. Except today was going to be anything but, you think. You know. You can feel it in your heart and you can hear it in hushed voices as you walk by the other students. Since the beginning of it all, to them, you had been a lying whore. And now, you were the victim. 

There were so many roads you could take to navigate it. Accept all the apologies and carry on, the easiest route. It was tempting, all glowing signs and arrows pointing to the least resistance. But the other route beckons you from somewhere deep within the bowels of your gut. Something irritated and hurt, makes you want to tighten your fists at your side and tell them all to fuck off because they were just as bad as your former friends. 

There’s two girls standing at your locker when you approach, all fidgety and off putting. You recognize one of them to be the always lovely Dana Ward. Beside her is a taller, fair-faced stranger with a simple blonde bun. As soon as their eyes lock onto you they give you this awful, almost dramatical frown of sadness. 

Here we go. 

“Hey,” Dana starts. “I just heard about the Tate stuff. You are so strong.”

Nathan’s voice pipes up from somewhere in the backside of your brain. He begs to speak on your behalf, struggles to get past your lips and shout them down for assuming a liar out of you til’ now. But, god help you, Dana is a sweet person and her friend isn’t giving you any real reasons to snark away your exasperation.

Her lips press into a tight line and then she speaks again to hopefully cut through the silence. 

“I knew he was a creep. One time he cornered me in the pool and got all weird on me because I wouldn’t give him my number. Total freak behavior. 

Nathan’s voice within you quiets down to an indistinguishable whisper, gone when a lance of pity pierces holes through the anger. 

“Fuck him.” You throw your locker open and shove your bag inside. “He’ll get what’s coming, I bet.”

“Oh, he’s getting it alright.” Dana’s friend chirps, and you raise a brow. She merely nods towards the other end of the hallway.

Following her eye line, you see it down at the last set of lockers. A locker adorned in big red letters, littered with sharpie and marker and words you shouldn’t repeat on school grounds. Tate’s locker. Out of all the words, from where you stand, you can only clearly see a few. 

Rapist. 

Freak. 

Even more writing in other fun colors. 

Asshole. 

Fuck you. 

A force beyond the beyonds pulls the corners of your lips upwards, and with it, a rush of joy that plants itself into the fields of your heart and blooms satisfaction within your veins. You feel it in waves, almost. And it burns so good on the way down that you can’t stop yourself from grinning. A single chant rolls through your dome of a skull, echoing off the fishbowled walls. 

Fuck you, Tate. Fuck you. 

A written chorus of your defence and his misdeeds. It felt too good to be real, almost, like somehow surely things couldn’t have changed so much in just one night. 

But then reality sinks in again. Because yes, it all did change overnight, and it was all just Victoria. 

All the nights spent staring up at the ceiling wondering how your friends could side with such a nasty person, why they wouldn’t even hear you out over something so dire. Attacking your character. Reinforcing the way your brain preferred to just do things like it always had, in silence and in private. 

So even when you’re feeling light on air there’s still shit mucked up underneath it all. A chamber of anger and the smoldering infestation of bitter beneath your skin. Your court doesn’t feel so empty anymore, but any gratification spars with years of emotional self-neglect. 

Was this what it was like? Was this the moment your friends fought for? Fiery passion, waves of rage garnished with fleeting blips of pride?

All the overstimulating noise of Blackwell fades into nothing within your ears. Silence from all angles. Dana nudges your arm and she says, I’m here for you, before she’s gone just as quickly.  You’re alone again in your thoughts. Per usual. The class bell rings through the busy halls, and all that’s left to do is find your way to class and see how the rest of the day would unfurl. 

Although you feel like you’re a war ground of pesky emotions, there’s an obvious pep to your step when you wind through the halls and slip into your classroom. It only takes a second to settle in, the sun beaming in through the massive windows and warming you golden from the inside out. Nearly intoxicating. 

The teacher's voice seems even further away than usual. 

--

Adrenaline ebbed into neutrality, and with it, all those shiny new feelings. By the time your first period was up, the stress of it all began to mount all over again. Class dragged by as it always did, the droning tone of your professor rambling on and on about things you really didn’t have the energy to care about and a melody of whispering chatter behind you. All the same. Like somehow, nothing had changed at all, actually. You’d almost believed it to be true, too, until you realized the scene sitting directly in front of you. 

April and May were taking special care to avoid any sort of contact with you, barely even murmuring amongst themselves when usually they’d be told more than once to pipe down by the teacher. It was quite the sight, the two of them. Frozen with eyes trained forward as though any movement would have you swinging at the back of their heads. 

Or perhaps delivering another round of stink to their rooms. 

If you weren’t sopping wet in the bath of stress, you’d surely have laughed. But you are, so you don’t. You just sit there watching numbly as life goes on, glancing between the fuzzy board scribbled with today's lesson and then the wind dancing through the tree leaves outside. And then you start to get angry, again, because you should be enjoying this. You should taking pictures and marking the date on your calendar- the day those two bone headed fucks left you the hell alone. 

This was what you wanted, right? To be left alone.

So why did it feel so heavy in your gut? 

Professor allows your class to talk amongst themselves for a short break, and suddenly voices from all angles are striking you at once. It’s easy to tune into a select few: vortex party details, weird graffiti in the mens room. Meeting up for dinner after class and going to see that new movie everybodies talking about. Apparently someone was throwing a super exclusive party at the edge of town. 

All just a bunch of random bullshit. 

When the lecture picks back up to finish its final run, it’s hard to focus between the stink of lingering, washed-out skunk in front of you and the ongoing chatter behind you. Not to mention the fact that you really, really, could not care any less about today's lesson. 

It’s been a minute since you cared about anything school related, now that you’re thinking about it. Other than straight up getting there on time, you never found yourself paying attention like you used to. It was all just muddled together, your mind far away but nowhere all at once. 

Your mother would surely have a fit knowing her child was so far out of it she wasn't even in the same vip code any longer. 

A part of you feels bad. A part of you always feels bad for something, and this time around it’s this gnawing guilt reminding you what you’re jeopardizing. Your education, your future. A perfect and simple future where you graduate Blackwell and haul your ass back to your hometown where you settle into a lovely job and an even lovelier two-story home wrapped in picket and doused in beige. 

You were lucky to be here- you knew that. Your mom did everything she had to do and clocked in the overtime to see to it you’d attend a good college. One that would have you skipping down the road of success. And she sent you off with a smile of pride so bright it almost covered hints of regret entirely. 

At the time, you’d believed those pinprick tears were that of loss, grieving your time together until you were back home. But now you recognized it- jealousy. Bittersweet, but jealousy nonetheless. 

Blackwell was your mothers dream college. She told you of her plan to be a professional writer living out in the hills of France or somewhere buried into the heart of a lovely little town out in the country. She’d almost made it, too. Got accepted and everything and prepared to leave home with nothing but a prayer and a dream in her pockets.

 But then, she, well… Had you. And, in her words, all those frivolous ideas went right out the window when you were plopped into her lap after a grueling two full days in labour. Her little angle, her little miracle. 

Her mini-me. She knew deep in your heart you were going to be perfectly wonderful. 

So she laid your life out like an outfit at the edge of your bed. It was easy to wear, easy to let it all be done and set right for you. Beauty pageants, enough after school activities to drive a carney mad. Rather it be out of laziness, or because you never truly did develop a spine of your very own, it was just so easy to ride the wind of her sail. 

Years and years and years spent in placid silence. Your own inner turmoil went unnoticed by most, pretty much only barking out when you really, really couldn’t stand it anymore. Some people really knew how to push the right buttons like that. But, you always took the path of least resistance, because you knew it was best for you. You hated attention, anyways, and if you were being honest, sometimes when you made choices you heard your moms voice before your own. 

You aren’t sure what changed within you. What fire had been lit. But something from the very depths of your soul has started crying out for your attention. It begs to rip through the mask of isolating cowardice and lash out in all directions. It’s strange, you can’t seem to remember a time in your life where you’d been so… Frustrated. Or, at least, you can’t seem to remember a time where you actually allowed yourself to work through it. To really sit down and simmer and feel it in its entirety.

Maybe you were losing your grip. Maybe everything was starting to become so clear yet so muddled at the very same time. 

Maybe Nathan was right. Blackwell does bring out the worst in everyone. 

---

Class finished up as the morning sun lit fireworks of gold over the dewy window glass. Students filed out one after the other once the bell rang but you chose to linger and admire the beauty unfurling before you. Such a seren sight, you wished you could feel the same way. Lighter than air and peaceful.

“... -and I, no, we, just wanted to say we were sorry.”

 A bird lands on the edge of the sill before it once more glides into that open sky. 

“Um…”

It takes a blink or two before you even realize there’s someone talking to you, let alone realizing there’s now two figures lingering a foot away from your seat. Once you fall back in reality, however, you don’t even have to think to recognize the awful sound of your least favorite sisters. 

April and May straighten their backs when you catch their gaze. You’d never seen spines so flaccid rip to ramrod straight so quickly in your life, like you’re a particularly mean spirited drill sergeant. 

“That was seriously fucked up of us, we just, like, we get it now.” May’s tone always makes you want to peel off your own skin. Luckily before you do, her sister takes over, softer this time. 

“Are we like… Cool?”

The rough translation: please don’t skunk us again. 

And the real fucking kicker of it all was that it hadn’t even been you. Nathan had taken it upon his own independence to come at them like some sort of attack dog. Not to mention Victoria deciding to cover your other corner. 

Out of everyone who decided to give you trouble for no good reason, April and May deserved what came to them. ‘What’ lingered with them in the form of an everlasting stink. Your friends had done you dirty but what would come to them, would come to them outside of your influence. But you were all too willing to sit back and watch the effects but damn, April and May were just so nasty. And It was lovely to watch them sink down a peg or two. Or twelve.

Even nicer to see them wait on your word. Pride seeps into your membrane but it’s ugly and it’s devious, downright malicious when you lean back into your seat with a click of your tongue and their expressions fall. 

It feels good. 

You only let them dangle there in suspension for a few moments. 

“Yep.” You shrug flatly. “We’re good.” 

They huff out the breaths they’d been holding. 

“Thanks,” April swallows. “If you like, ever need anything, reach out, okay?”

It takes everything in you not to laugh at their face. But you manage to tighten the reins on your own lead and instead offer nothing short of a curt nod. The unimpressed look on your face doesn’t go unnoticed, however, and they scurry out of the room before the tensions have the chance to rise again. 

You have to sit back to take it all in. Really let yourself linger in it, the feeling of having an ounce of power. Being seen. The edge of it all was thrumming underneath your skin. Real power, like if you hadn’t told them they were in the clear they’d have dropped dead right then and there. The fact that they felt the need to even be cleared at all was so foreign to you it almost felt like it wasn’t real, but instead was just some coping daydream you’d concocted to make your sorry self feel better. 

But it was real. And it was delicious in the most stomach churning of ways. Until a few moments later, when you realize you’ve only just finished your first hour. 

By the time you heave yourself to your feet, the next round of students have begun to trickle in. The hallway isn’t so busy now that it’s been a few minutes and you meander your way to your locker. You routinely swap your books around and sling your bag back over your shoulder but then something’s stopping you, this lingering turmoil that makes you glance up at the clock and cringe at the hours remaining. 

You feel awkwardly visible now, eyes catching you as they go by. Whispers and quiet chatter next to half opened lockers, hushed when you come within distance. A couple more scribbles on Tate’s locker and memories of his obscured face before you had collapsed into a heap of unconscious mess. 

You can’t find it in yourself to get to your next class. Not yet, anyways. Instead your feet find themselves planted in the girls bathroom as a last ditch effort to give yourself one hell of a pep talk and to get your damn head in the game. A distraction, something to take away the throb starting to knock away at your skull. There was no time to be this flustered, nor was there time to somehow be this drained at the same time. 

Those feet of yours stop, however, when you swing the door open and wouldn’t you know it- the queen bee herself. It’s not the first time you’ve seen her, but it’s the first time you’ve been in a room alone with her. She’s everything you expected of Blackwell's best. Talls, skinny, perfectly pleasant to look at with the brains to match. 

There isn’t a hint of acknowledgement. She’s craned forward and plastering lipstick over her lips so smooth it’s like she’s done it a million times before. Barely even spares you a glance when she straightens his spine and clicks the lipstick’s cap on. For some reason you almost feel as thought you’re intruding even though it’s a public bathroom. She has a way of doing that, you’ve heard. Owning the spaces she took up. You almost apologize for daring to even walk through the door, any confidence you’d gained shattered in just her mere presence. 

When your mouth opens to speak, she cuts through the silence. 

“So. Feel better?” You search for words to say. She just takes the silence once again, sighing. “How’s it feel knowing everyone here feels like they owe you some grand apology?” 

Her tone is unreadable. Somewhere between a taunt but not quite so malicious. Finally, sounds leave your moving lips. 

“...About the Tate shit?”

“Duh.” 

“Well, yeah. I guess. I didn’t really want an apology from everyone. Just got under my skin that he got off scott-free.” There’s a weight in your chest, your eyes falling to the floor. “And pretty much no one believed me.”

Victoria sighs again and drops her lipstick into her makeup bag before she fishes out a tube of mascara. “Yeah. Welcome to Blackwell. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“...Thanks.”

Victoria’s leaning forward into the mirror once more and applying thin layers of mascara. You, for some fucking reason, are caught in a trance. There’s this sense of… Effortless perfection about her. Like everything she does is right, meanwhile you’re just twiddling your thumbs and standing there like some lingering creep. Something nags at you, though. Just loud enough to have you starting the conversation back up.

“I gotta ask, though,” You start. “Why did you suddenly go and post all that stuff about him? Why do that for me?”

“Who says it was just for you? Self-centered much?” She turns around so quickly her hair has to catch up, and it makes you almost take a step back. But then she leans on the sink with one hand and gets eye level with you. For a moment, you’re sure she’s about to lay into you. Instead, she smirks. “I did it cuz’ Tate’s a fucking asshole who had it coming.”

It’s a little harder to breathe when she’s a mere few inches from your face. When she backs away and looks you over curiously, you’re unable to hide the confusion among your apprehension. She faces the mirror again, the air changing by the second.

“Look, I know you’ve been hanging out with Nathan.” She says quietly. It’s almost like you’re getting caught, like for some reason she wasn’t supposed to know. You open your mouth to speak but she stops you again successfully for the second time. “He’s… seemed happier.”

Now you’re stunned all over again. 

“Happier?” You ask, and she nods absently. 

“You know, sometimes he can’t go a week without-...” Her lips press into a tight line, choosing her words. “He’s just got a lot of vices. He has a hard time. I know you know that.”

Victoria Chase is actually leveling with you. It’s both an honor, and unnaturally anxiety inducing. 

“...But he’s been doing better and the only thing that’s changed is, well,” She eyes you through the mirror. “You. So…”

So consider it a thanks. 

She’s casually dabbing eyeliner and clearing away smudges like it’s some casual Tuesday, but you can hear the sincerity in her tone. Nathan clearly means a lot to her, beyond the rich-kid connection bullshit. You knew it by the way Nathan spoke about her, but it was so different to see it in person. 

It’s still like being struck by lightning when you hear it, though. You’re affecting him, noticeably. You’re softening those harsh edges of his and you’re making him happier. 

“I’m glad he’s doing better.” Even though your heart is starting to pick up its pace thrumming in your chest, you feel the corners of your lips lifting into a smile.

“Yeah.” Fingers swiping away lipstick outside the lines. “Oh yeah, by the way, you should stand up for yourself.”

You blink up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, please.” Victoria actually rolls her eyes at you, watching through the mirror. “Stop letting those stupid hipster bitches walk all over you. They’re all phonies trying to overcompensate the fact that they’re going totally nowhere in life.”

Funny. You almost feel like you could say the same thing about yourself. 

Maybe Victoria can read your thoughts. Maybe she’s just that good at reading people, because she quickly adds, “They wouldn’t know the real thing if it hit them in the face.” 

Implying that you’re the real thing. You, with your average life, even more average bank account, mediocre grades and no clear direction in life beyond that of other people's dreams, are the real deal. It almost makes you laugh how quickly the imposter syndrome seeps in.

“Oh, I don’t know,” You sigh. “I guess I’m not too great at standing up for myself.”

“Nathan says otherwise,” She giggled. “Where did that energy go?”

“...What has he said?”

“The diner, and the night he broke into Frank’s trailer. I can’t believe you let him into your room like that.” 

“He broke into someone's house?” You stare at her. The blood on Nathan’s clothes the night you let him slither his way into your room for the first time. 

Victoria shrugs. “Frank’s a sleazeball. I’m sure Nathan had his reasons.”

He always did, didn’t he?

“Anyways,” She starts again. “You have to start standing up for yourself.”

“I forget how, sometimes.”

“That’s why no one gives a shit what you have to say.” It’s so blunt it almost makes you retch. “Well, used to not give a shit. Now you’re talk of the town. So make some noise.” She peeks at you from over her shoulder, this glint in her eyes. “Bite back a little. Trust me.”

“The last time I bit back at someone, was, well…”

You have to chew the inside of your cheek

Nathan. The only one to really have you baring your fangs and barking back, getting shitty and mean. Ironic, considering he was probably the last person in Blackwell you shouldn’t have been going toe to toe with. God, you hadn’t felt anger like that, sitting at that diner trying to mind your own damn business and then suddenly he’s cutting a rug right to your table. He practically siphoned it out of you, his very presence phasing through every filter you hid behind. Maybe it was because the first time you saw him, he truly did stop you in your tracks. All of his anger, all of his rage, and yet somehow… You still saw something more in him. 

Seeing him with his camera all those months ago only solidified your wandering thoughts.

But then he found you at that damned diner and the weird illusion you’d created of him shattered in a thousand pieces. And it pissed you off so badly that you even gave him any thought at all. 

You had been new to school with little to no friends. Nothing to prove, nothing to gain but a dream that was never in yours in the first place. Years of suppressed frustrations festering under the skin of a perfectly little meek thing that Nathan somehow, in minutes flat, decimated. 

Never even saw the you that everyone else did. Never took you as weak, saw everything underneath right from the jump. You aren’t sure if Victoria shares the same thoughts, eyeing you up like she isn’t sure herself. But something about her, despite being his right hand, is blaringly noticeable: she’s got both of her feet on the ground. She’s stable- firm in her stance and running a tight ship. 

“Well?” She urges. You shrug again.

“I barely ever get like that. Does sarcasm count?”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism for weak willed nobodies.” It flows from her with ease and strikes you directly in the ego. “And for people who, like,” Once again her eyes flick from your head to toe. “Don’t give a shit about themselves.”

Your cheeks heat. “Ouch.”

“Look, I’m not saying you don’t give a shit about yourself. You just kind of look like it. But you totally have potential. Put on some make up, some better clothes, and try to look way less miserable inside.”

“Hey, I do try.”

“Really?” She shakes her head and laughs a pretty little giggle. “I’d hate to see what you look like when you’re not trying.”

It’s a joke. A real joke, and you should be insulted but you aren’t- in fact you’re quite the opposite. Charmed, almost. A breath of ease slips from your lips and with it goes the tension in your posture. 

“Got any tips then? What am I doing wrong?”

When Victoria turns to face you, she’s nearly glowing. “You sure you wanna wake the beast?”

“...The beast?”

“The beast.”

“Alright…” You swallow. “I mean, sure, go for it.”

And boy, does she release the beast.

“Well let’s start with the hair. When’s the last time you got a trim?”

“It’s been a while. I’ve been busy.” 

“Right.” Her arms cross. “Now, how about your posture? You look like a shrimp. I certainly wouldn’t take you seriously with that obvious lack of confidence and god, those clothes. Do you even own anything made this year?”

She’s not even letting you get word in- but even if she did, there was nothing you could say to even defend yourself. She was right and you both knew it. You felt like you had the back of a shrimp, and you owned maybe three or four complete outfits from thrift stores back home. 

“You look like you haven't slept in weeks and you don’t have any confidence.”

Unless it was out of blinding rage, apparently. 

You gape at her and she just tilts her head. 

“Too much?”

“Holy shit,” You’re still stuck staring and taking in the reality that you really could use a makeover. Shockingly your voice is miles more upbeat than you’d thought it would be, almost a borderline laugh. “You weren’t kidding. You are a beast.”

“Gotta’ be.” She hums. 

“My hair kinda just does it’s own thing, and I’m not gonna’ pretend I don’t like my clothes. They’re comfy. But maybe I could give make-up a shot or something.”

“What, scared it’ll bite?”

“Kind of.” A grimace crosses your features. “I fucking suck at putting it on. Never looks good on me.”

“Oh, shut up. You just don’t know what you’re doing.”

Bafflement doesn't get the chance to hit you before she’s pushing off the sink and standing before you. Her perfume is light and floral, and when you blink up at her she’s got this look in her eyes that you can't quite place. The makeup bag makes yet another appearance. 

Victoria tucks the bag under her arm and those nimble fingers find your chin, lipgloss hovering above your lips. 

“Oh you don’t have to do that-” 

“Don’t talk or you’ll fuck it up.”

Her tone could cut so you try your damndest to keep the wiggling at a minimum while she paints you as an artist would their canvas. This close, now, you can see the way her gaze locks into focus. Quick, subtle blips of satisfaction cross her features before they fade into concentration just as fast as they came. When she’s good and done, she swaps the gloss out for mascara. 

It tickles your waterline. Sits heavy on your twitching lashes and she has to swipe away the smudges you create as they come. Her work must be free of flaws, perfect as it can be, and when she feels you’ve met the quota she nods to herself a job well done before she sighs out a smile.

“There,” She hums. “All we did was two small things and you already look like less of a zombie. It really is easy, you know. Step one is to just… Don’t suck at it.”

“I think I failed step one.” Victoria stands before you, blocking your view of yourself in the mirror.

“Then learn. Here,” And before you know it, she’s shoving the bottle of mascara in your hands. “I’ve got like ten more of these. The lipgloss stays with me, though. That’s limited edition.”

Because of course it is. 

The school bell strips you of your chance to thank her, echoing loud and demanding overhead. The sound rivets off the bathroom walls and reminds you that you’re probably going to be late at this rate. Victoria simply spins on her heel towards the mirror, fixes the last few details of her look, then makes quick steps towards the door. 

“Uh-” You call. “Thanks for helping me. And for the makeup tips, and, stuff.”

Victoria’s back is to you, but you can see the pause she takes. The beat of silence passes before she glances at you over her shoulder. 

“...Sorry Tate tried to roofie you.”

Her compassion, still, finds you off guard. As does the softness in her tone- gentle and empathetic. The mental image of her you’d been building in your mind changes by the second, a full picture coming into display. 

You swallow. “It is what it is. I owe Nathan for it, he pretty much saved the day on that one.”

Victoria opens the bathroom door, the muffled chatter and footsteps now seeping through the gap.

“He trusts you, you know.” She says. “Don’t fuck it up.”

And then she’s gone. The click of her heels disappears into the symphony of Blackwells hallways. When the door shuts, the silence that overtakes you is almost jarring. The faucet drips, heat clicks and pushes through the vents overhead. But ultimately your goal was met- you came looking for a distraction and damn did you find one. 

For the first time since Victoria had started on you, you get the chance to see your own reflection. 

Her craftsmanship is one of legends. Soft and subtle, but not so much so that it goes unnoticed to the untrained eye. Thicker, darker lashes that flutter with each blink. Glossy lips that catch the light and seem to sparkle beneath it. Even under the harsh LED of the girls bathroom, you can see the difference. It almost takes your breath away.

For the second time now, you feel beautiful again. 

Beautiful enough to offer yourself a half-cocked grin and walk out into the halls with your head held just a little bit higher. The melody of students rushing from room to room, the slam and click of lockers opening and closing at all angles, it all becomes less like nails on a chalkboard and more like… White noise. A hum and bumble that's growing further away by the minute as your thoughts take over. 

You spend the rest of your time mentally thanking Victoria for her generosity. You even spend a couple minutes of class still thanking her, rolling your phone around in your hands wondering if you should text her until the teacher declares all electronics to be put away. 

Once more you find yourself more interested in what's going on outside than inside. The teacher prattles on about atomic energy but you’re too busy imagining how the breeze would feel running through your hair right now. How the sun would be so warm, how today would be the perfect day to go for a cruise along the ocean line. Perhaps the last few days of excitement with Nathan had spoiled you.

A couple of your teachers had noticed the changes in you growing by the weeks. A few asked if you were feeling alright, if you were burnt out. Your math teacher even suggested you see the counselor and discuss why you were lacking. As invisible as you were, you were always a good student first and foremost. Rarely left homework on the back burner, showed up on time and did your work and left when you were dismissed. 

You were slipping. You could feel it in your bones. 

And the scariest part was that you were starting to struggle to even care. 

You’re starting to have these creeping thoughts winding through your brain like vines. Or, perhaps, like poison seeping through your bloodstream. A single thought is recurring in its wake- do I even want to be here at all?

Pieces of your shell are starting to crack open, you think. And all those ugly feelings you were sure to snuff away were crawling through the cracks to rear their even uglier heads. It’s a special kind of guilt that fights wars with your growing independence. Parts of you you'd had yet to meet were tracking dirty footprints through the home of your mind. Some scarier than others, you find, angry and heated with a trigger-like temper, but you nonetheless. 

You were so lucky to be at this school and yet every hour skipped and spent fucking off doing god-knows-what was like glimpsing into a better future. It’s almost ruining things for you, in a way. All the things you could be doing but instead you’re stuck at a table listening to the same lessons over and over again. 

School was never something you particularly enjoyed, but god, had it always been this fucking boring?

Boring from the moment you walked in, boring at lunch, boring when you check your phone and see notifications from a dozen names yet none of them are who you want to hear from. 

You’re bored as the afternoon overtakes the morning and the midday sun is blazing gold along the chalkboard. 

Bored all the way til’ the very moment the final bell rings and you’re free to go. It almost numbs all those horrible, mixed feelings that ripped you up on the insides as you pass by countless scurrying students desperate to feel the warm air on their skin. 

So criminilay bored all the way to the girls dormitories and now, hours later in your dorm, you’re staring up at your ceiling and wondering how a single day could go on for so long. Music and muffled conversations are echoing through the halls to welcome the weekend. Every moment passed like lingering eternity, but you’d popped the window open before throwing yourself onto your mattress and the wind is fluttering through the curtains like little wings. Evening birds chirp and glide along the breeze. 

Nathan finds himself to the forefront of your mind for the thousandth time that day. You wondered what he was up to. The day had fallen, but the night would soon be and with it bringing who knew what. A part of you stares at that window and wishes he’d somehow be there knocking away at the glass and demanding you come out with that shit-eating grin of his. You’d roll your eyes and tell him to take a hike, but he wouldn’t. 

A fun game you grew to enjoy as the days came to pass. 

You sigh as a heaviness settles into your gut. 

He would walk right in like he owns the place and settle right beside you, reeking of weed and cigarettes. And cologne, of course. A subtle scent that you think you could pick out of a crowd by now. Smooth, woodsy. Just a hint of citrus. God, he even smelled rich. You wanted it all over your room.

All over you. 

The rhythm of your heart picks up in tandem with your fingers twitching to grab your phone. The way you swipe away all those messages begging for your attention is automatic, as is the way you click on the only name you truly wanted to hear from. 

You don’t give yourself the time to hesitate, but you’re stopped regardless when the phone rings to life in your hands.

[the-tomcat-disposable]

Candle running help!

How to go grey in 3 or 4 hours:

Hour 1

- geyser

- grandma's

- turtle (optional) + sanctuary island wax

Hour 2

- dailies + daily realm cr (if it's prairie or forest, even better)

- turn in dailies and do your daily friend lights

- the barista will give you a cinnamon roll if you turn in dailies and then sit at the table in aviary. Idk how much wax this is but I always get it

- get back to Geyser immediately (wind paths is cruicial to speedrunning. Use them)

= 40-50 min, depending on realm and bugs (I'd also suggest doing this solo or without chatting because typing takes time and distracts me)

Hour 3

- geyser

(I cannot stress the next steps enough)

- go home and IMMEDIATELY into forest (via portal) the moment geyser ends at exactly 15 minutes after

- GO GO GO GO!!!!! CANDLE RUN ALL OF FOREST (except treehouse, for now)!!!!! ABANDON YOUR FRIENDS AND THE DYE, THEY CAN TP AND GRAB ON FOR THEMSELVES!!!!! GO GO GO!!!

- once you've gotten all of the forest wax (including the temple wax, if you have the time to & the servers are working smoothly), immediately go to grandma's using the wind paths/treehouse shortcut (depending on whichever area you want the wax from)

- get grandma's wax again (you'll reach the cap for wax with about 2 minutes to spare)

- if you chose not to get the underground cavern wax, you can get it after grandma's

= 45-50 min

Hour 4 (if not grey yet)

(optional)

- cr the bonus candle cakes realm

- get the candle cakes from the trials

- cr Alice's cafe (if you don't have the door prop, find a shared memory and click the bell icon to save it for future use)

- cr wasteland + dye if you want to

- sometimes, Eden will have wax just.. there in the 2nd part. You might be able to cr Eden while getting black dye there

[aritsukemo]

The Thief and The Prince - Who Pleads for the Unobtainable

Lyney x GN Reader ( Bartender AU )

Summary: After spilling his heart onto a charming masked stranger at a ball, Lyney sets out to find them in hopes of reliving that peaceful bliss his overwhelming life lacked.

Warnings: Reader is very flirty in this, but nothing too suggestive happens/is implied. Depressing themes related to Lyney's backstory is heavily hinted at, but nothing is outright said. Wriothesley makes an appearance in this and his past relationship with Reader is kept purposely ambiguous. Also, Lyney is a lovesick fool all throughout this. That said, read at your own discretion!

A/N: Had to speedrun getting this queued up, but here's the second gift! This time around, I have a book with a brown covering and heart-shaped ivory surrounding the face and back, a bouquet of red roses, ceylon tea, and strawberry cheesecake for....Vessa! Enjoy @kurogira!

Event: AriTsukemo's 2025 Appreciation STELLARONHVNTERS'S Appreciation Reading Party

The wooden doors swung open, hitting the bell above and alerting everyone of the arrival of what could possibly become their next drinking buddy or the reason their night-long fun gets abruptly cut short and they're kicked out. That said, not many look up to glimpse at the person who enters — either truly uncaring, too drunk to raise their head, or indulged in a heated, yet hearty chatter over a game of cards or large things of beer. Those who do, however, have mixed reactions — none of which being the most friendliest as they either look on in bewilderment or immediately turn their nose up at the sight of their attire.

The person who entered sits at the door longer than he probably should — after all it takes a mere bump and a split drink to earn him a nasty bruise and an even nastier situation — but as the potent smell of whiskey singes his nostrils, he can’t find himself moving, at least, not immediately.

The smell of alcohol in the air was heavy, crushing even, to the point anyone who’s unfamiliar with it would succumb to the pressure of it — like him. His head swirls and buzzes at the back as he picks up a whiff of BO and cigar ashes layered in the thick, fruitful mix. He’d expected half of this when he made the decision to come here, but standing here and experiencing it firsthand was completely different from what he imagined — thus is the consequence of only ever being surrounded by the smell of perfume, lavender-scented candles, and tame cologne.

Yet despite all this agony, leaving never once crossed his mind.

It takes a moment of trying to familiarize himself with the odors that nauseate him, but eventually he’s able to take a step forward. Immediately, the wood beneath his feet whines under the weight of the expensive leather of his loafers, but it’s like a mouse squeaking compared to the booming, uncontrolled laughter and animated chatter of those around him. Nevertheless, it does make him cringe slightly at the sound made albeit he hides it well.

He walks forward, taking in faces one by one as he passes them. Many don’t meet his eye, but those who do only do so for a mere second before the silken material of his shirt or the gleaming rocks planted in his ears catch their eye and they look away scoffing. He ultimately pays it no mind as he finally reaches the bar in the very back.

A backdrop of bottles lay behind the wooden bar, lining the large shelf with its varying contents of poison as well as hung from above, just out of reach for the guest which makes one wonder how tall the bartender must be in order to reach it — much taller than most of the guys here, he’d have to guess.

He settles himself in one of the middle chairs, his heart skipping in his chest when it squeaks and rocks under his weight. He grips the edge of the counter, cringing at the rough, unkempt wood digging into his hands as he attempts to keep himself from falling off this chair and earning a haunting roar of laughter from the drunken audience behind him. And, as he did so, he found his gaze lowering to peer at the stool’s legs, brows furrowing at the sight of the front leg half the length as the others. Of course he’d choose the broken one of all the chairs in this place..

A whistle deafens his left ear and as his violet eyes pop up and to the side, he takes in the sight of a gruff man a little aways from where he sat. He was buff, much more than him — not that he was much to be compared to in the first place — and even while sat like this, he could tell the man was on the taller side of the height scale. His hair was dark and shaggy with a singular grey streak that could possibly give way to his age and his face bore a scar near his pale grey eyes — which told a hundred tales someone as privileged as himself could not even hope to relate to.

His attire was odd, as it was too formal for the setting and yet too unprofessional to be seen anywhere in high society — though that could be due to the tears that accessorized his suit and the chains that lead a steady trail down his ripped body, connecting to something out of eyesight thanks to the burly coat he adorns.

 “My, my..” The man sings, the velvety whine of his voice serenading his ears with its playful tone, “Looks to me that the dingy cat’s dragged in a real bigshot.”

 “Bigshot? You flatter me,” The visitor says, his voice pitchy and mellifluous, like the high note of a harp. His arm comes to prop itself up on the counter so that his delicate head could rest there, and despite this place being entirely foreign to him, he presents a grin as though he’s been here a million times, “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m merely a wanderer.”

The man’s hum is barely audible as most of it is pushed down by the thick liquid he chugs down. Even when sitting a few seats down, the husky smell of rotten mangos and citrus invade the poor male’s nostrils, giving hints to the flavor of what the other man so heartily consumed, and from the smell of it, the taste was horrid.

 “Tell me, what brings such a gentle face to this place?” The man inquires after a brief moment of silence, “Feel free to prove me wrong, but you don’t exactly seem like the type to drink your problems away.”

And the visitor answers truthfully, “I’m looking for someone.”

 “Here?” The man immediately retorts, the quirk of his brow saying a million things he doesn’t see the need to utter aloud, “What? You lookin’ for a pick me up? Maybe someone who’s willing to get their hands dirty for pocket change? …Or maybe someone who’s already gotten their hands dirty who you want to capture? —If it’s the last one, I wouldn’t waste your breath. Folks down here are known for keeping their lips sealed.”

 “No. It’s none of the sorts,” The person he searches for doesn’t match such unsavory descriptions. …Well, maybe they do if stealing one’s heart counts as getting their hands dirty. If that were the case, then yes, he‘d say without a doubt that they were a thief who he yearns to apprehend. Not with the intent of something barbaric like torture or jail, but to merely talk, touch, and hold in his arms — and possibly reenact a scene that’s been playing over and over and over in his head like a broken cassette since that night in that ballroom where his breath was stolen away in a fervent kiss and his mind was put under lock and key. Forcing him to think of nothing but their teasing gaze and heated touch that seems to send a shiver down his spine even now when he recalls it.

 “Trying to shoo away another one of my guests, Wriothesley?”

The symphony of their voice didn’t quite match the tavern. The cords struck were of light opulence, like something made of refined silver, yet the warmth that surrounds each note made the song rather easy to the ears and made everyone who heard it quirk to attention.

The visitor lifts his head and freezes in place as his gaze falls upon a walking oil painting. Their hair was of a perfect shade and had a certain puffiness that made him believe running his hands through it would feel like laying in a bed of flower petals. They were much more well kept than the people jabbering on here, though the cloth that adorns them gives way to their lower class status. Nevertheless, their features were deceptively delicate like a fae’s appearance or a siren’s voice, pulling all who dared to gaze into an infinite loop of awestruck staring.

The fire alight in their eyes was painfully familiar. Holding a spark of mischief that could easily be confused with mere cheekiness thanks to the color that softens it. It’s an inviting gaze — one that dares anyone to tempt fate, something that would make even the most astute strategist slip up and lose a war — a look that has made him peel back every layer of this town and the next one over to see again.

The chuckle that leaves that dark haired man at the far end of the table is less uptight than the one he was given. It was one you’d give to your lifelong companion, or at least, a brother in arms, he’d say.

 “I’d never. I was merely picking his brain.”

 “Sure you were,” The softened edge to their voice tells him that the interrogation he narrowly avoided was a commonplace between them. It makes him wonder just how many lads have been saved by their swift tongue and what peculiar people have sat here for such normalcy to set in between the both of them.

 “Anyways what’ll it be, pretty boy?” Their voice ropes him out of his thoughts as though he were a dog to a chain. His mouth falls open to respond, but his words die in his throat as their symphony goes in one ear and out the other, leaving only the enticing petname they threw in there to sink into his membrane and erase all other sensible thoughts.

 “Hello..?” They drawl, leaning in to wave their hand in front of his face. His reaction to it is delayed, and it’s only when their hand is beginning to retreat that he regains his sense of self enough to blurt out, “H- Huh?”

The beauty seems to grow amused at his dumbfounded visage, so much so that a lazy grin comes to grace his presence, “I’ve been told I’m easy on the eyes, but it’s not often someone tries to undress me with their eyes like you’re doing right now.”

Easy on the eyes is such an understatement. To him, it was like they were a blessing to his violet hues — the perfect muse that an artist would never grow tired of painting. Someone who’d have bards singing about their enrapturing grace and suave wit until dayrise. A vixen who he’s sure could earn all the riches in the world if only they’d bat their pretty eyes at the right person.

A part of him begs for that person to be him.

 “Sorry,” He says, adding in a fake cough for good measure, “I was…thinking about what I’d like to drink. It’s not often I settle down in an establishment like this one, you see..”

Something in their eyes shifts and causes them to narrow for a brief moment, as though his excuse had revealed some grand plan he had been hiding. Maybe it did, if so, he’s not particularly upset seeming as the last time they saw right through him, it led to the best half an hour of his life.

 “Is that so… Well, would you like me to take the lead here and let you try one of our most popular drinks?”

He’d try anything you’d give him, even poison if you asked the right way.

  “Sure,” He says instead, “But I’m not too fond of stronger beverages so something light would be nice.”

 “Noted. And this is for..?” You drawl to which he eagerly shoots out, “Lyney. The name’s Lyney.”

You bring your hand to your chin as you decide to test the name on your tongue, “Mmm, Lyney..” And oh, the way you say his name instantly makes him melt into a puddle. It was like drinking down the finest glass of wine or hitting the perfect note in a verse. The way the syllables rolled off your tongue so easily, so sweetly, and in such a satisfying way made him feel as though it was always meant to be said by you.

It makes him wonder how nice it’d be for you to sing him a certain three-worded phrase.

 “I’ll have your drink out to you shortly, Lyn— Can I call ya’ Lyn?” You ask. And, as though he was under some spell, he nods dumbly. A smile making its way onto his face although it's a bit lopsided.

 “You can call me anything you want,” He drones, and the chuckle he earns makes him want to say so much more to you. Alas, you begin to walk off before he could open his lips to do so.

 “Since when did you care to ask for names?” He heard the man — Wriothesley, was it — ask you. It was clear the question was only meant for your ears, but the volume of which he spoke made his intentions obvious.

But you barely bat your eyes to his attempt at teasing and swiftly answer, “Since today,” before offering your hand to him, “Want a refill?”

He shakes his head, “As much as I’d like to say yes, I have to get back to Sigewinne before she comes looking for me herself.”

 “Hm, understandable. She is a scary girl when she wants to be,” You say, taking the bulky tankard from his grasp as you mutter under your breath, “…Her tea is anyways…” which earns a jaunty chuckle from the suited man.

 “I’ll make sure to let her know you’re such a fan,” He says, “She’ll be so overjoyed she may just ship a gallon to the tavern.”

 “Please spare the praise,” You quip, the last utterance they both hear before you spun on the heel of your boots and swished over to the far corner of it to talk to another guest who had just sat down.

Lyney follows your every movement, watching every bounce of your hair, each sway of your hips, to the way you put your palm flat on the counter before the new arrival, and the way their eyes seem to hike up your body before finally reaching your eyes. He wonders what expression you’re making at them right now — is it similar to the one you gave him just now when you rolled his name as though it was your favorite candy? His chest aches at the thought.

 “Are they who you’re looking for?” He heard Wriothesley ask him. Initially, he hums, half-comprehending his question as he haphazardly murmurs, entranced, “What makes you think that..?”

 “Just a hunch,” He says, the stool slicing through the ambience of chatter with its loud creaking, “Ah, but do try to blink soon. Stare any harder and you may burn your thoughts into the back of their head,” He jokes, earning yet another hum from the ashy-blonde male.

Wriothesley’s movements are slow and deliberate as he reaches into his vest and fishes out a small, plainly-colored sack. Its contents are obviously on the heavier side from the way it sags in the air and as he tosses onto the counter, the metallic clink it makes against the wood gives an idea as to what’s exactly inside. It’s likely too much, even with the amount he consumed tonight, but it’s not like you’d complain about the extra tip.

He walks along the chairs, eyes trained on Lyney until he can’t anymore. He notices how the narrowing of his eyes seemed to bend at the ends and reveal the gentle glimmer of his irises — a light that he now realizes only appeared when his eyes set on you. There wasn’t a flicker of anything unsavory in those eyes. Not lust nor greed nor envy…simply pure adoration and intense yearning to give affection and receive yours in turn. Furthermore, his body reactions — like the way his eyes roamed and always, for some reason, ended up at their smirk or deceptively alluring eyes — painted a picture that even the densest person here couldn’t ignore.

He almost feels bad for the man. After all, playing with hearts and drying them out until they crack and crumble into something irreparable is your specialty.

 “Good luck…” Wriothesley found himself murmuring quietly to the wooden door before him — far out of earshot of the one he should be warning — as his large fingers slid it open, “Someone like you’ll definitely need it..”

Lyney, none the wiser to danger that has hypnotized him, beams as the warmth of your gaze finally fills his soul again after what felt like ages. You seem to light up in your own way when locking eyes with him for a second time that night, putting an extra pep in your step as you walk back up to him with a cup in hand and slide it before him.

 “I present to you A Kiss Before the Sun Falls. It’s an original of yours truly,” You tell him, your arms coming up to cross just under your chest, “Usually my more delicate regulars have it — it’s more fruit than anything else, you see — but I’ve been told it does wonders to the tastebuds.”

 “You don’t try your own creations?” He says as his lithe fingers wrap around the cup, his fingertips brushing along the smooth, transparent glass. It certainly didn’t fit the vibe of this place — not that he’s one to talk. Right now, he was like a mermaid swimming amongst a bed of sirens, and with that in mind, he ultimately discards his early thought and chalks it up to simply being different due to its contents as he raises it to his lips.

An aroma fills his nose. One that reminds him of the flower garden he often purposefully lost himself in whenever things just became a bit too much for him. Like the days where his past catches up to him and he’s shoved back into those small, torn up shoes again — the only pair he had at the time — and putting on shows for those who would later try to wrong him in one of the worst ways possible — that day his world almost came crashing down when his other half was stolen from him to be defiled by someone he once thought would keep him, them, whole and under utmost care.

This concoction’s fragrance, in a way, brought back those memories, but made it feel more so like it was all a bad dream — a horrible nightmare — one that he’d soon awake from to realize that it never happened — that they never happened — and that his life was one where there was no danger he had to protect those he loved from.

No danger, that in turn, forced him to conceal everything — his worries, fears, and anxieties — behind a perfectly practiced smile and an exhaustingly animated, overly cheery demeanor. That his life was one that allowed him to shake and tremble freely, shed tears instead of taking the time to paint one on his cheek prior to a performance, and verbally express his feelings — like when he’s overstimulated beyond belief post-show as all the adrenaline dies and his mind is racing with all of the things that could’ve went wrong and his stress of making everything look, feel, and seem perfect finally begins to loosen their shackles on him during the most inconvenient times, which makes him push that dreadful persona of his ten times more than before.

No danger that makes him hide that fragile version of himself from those he loves and hardening that into a foundation for them to dump their burdens onto.

He tips the glass, allowing its elixir to coat his tongue and he hums at its taste. It’s not too bold like he wished and he can just barely taste the alcohol over the strong hints of coconut and pineapple.

It sits on his tongue like a weighted blanket, running down his throat without searing it or leaving an unsavory tang that lingers so long it makes him sick. It was like receiving a hug after a breakdown — one that came from someone who he trusted with his life. Someone who knew his inner workings and took the time to learn its codes — how to push his buttons without mashing them in, what buttons not to push at all, and when’s the right time to push them in the first place — and took to heart the tics in his software that made him crash and burn so that they could skillful avoid, or even attempt to fix, them.

It was an embrace of safety and security that, somewhere in the back of his mind, he yearned for from a person he connected with. Someone who possibly could share, but not completely bear, his pains and past and is willing to dance hand in hand with him on that grand stage he usually waltzed on himself despite his feet bruising over and bleeding everywhere. Someone who’d allow him to lean on their shoulder when his limbs grow tired and he wishes for nothing more than the curtain to fall for the final time that night.

Someone who he hopes, one day, could be you.

 “Mm, I do, but I can’t judge it accurately due to how I go about tasting it,” You sigh prettily, slouching so that you could mimic his previous action of resting your head on fist, “After all, a person’s lips always make them taste so much sweeter to me.”

Lyney chokes.

 “Ack-! M- My! Uh-!” He stammers through a strained voice and elongated, nasally hacks as he ultimately decides to close his eyes and turn away from you entirely so as to not further embarrass himself by hacking up his lung in your face.

You watch as he does this, and for once, not a giggle slips from you albeit your grin still remains prominent as ever; a telltale sign that your mood is still afloat.

Eventually, he’s able to breathe again without feeling the incessant burning strangling his lungs where he then attempts to save face by turning back to you bearing a closed eyed, polite grinning expression, “..Yo- Your ways of doing things are truly…unique.”

 “I agree, and if you’d like, you can be my next test dummy—- Though, for professionalism’s sake, it’ll have to be after hours,” You say, and his heart skips and stops entirely when he realizes he can’t tell if you’re serious or merely teasing.

To make a situation worse, you decide to lean in closer, clearly uncaring of the setting you’re in as you cup his chin with your other hand and trail a path along his jawline, whispering, “I’d love it if you were to agree. Pardon my eagerness, but I recently had the chance to dine on a cute prince like yourself and I’d kill for a chance like that again.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but he quickly realizes that there’s no way to force a tangible sentence past his lips right now. They inevitably fall closed, and as his eyes find respite from your intense gaze and catch on your lips — glossed and looking like they tasted of freshly whipped cheesecake and wine — he feels a sudden sense of hunger take over him and promptly tries to gulp it down.

But even with his mind blank like this, one word grounds him — prince. An uttering he’s heard before, quite recently in fact, and it brings him back to why he sits here before you now which, in turn, gives him the courage to open his mouth once again.

 “Sp- Speaking of prince…the nickname is familiar to me. It’s why I’m here, actually..” He begins. The ends of his fingers begin to twitch when you make no sign of pulling away. Furthermore when he looks back up again and sees your eyes still intently boring into him and likely peering into him and gazing at his soul.

He can feel his nerves creeping in with each passing second and it’s then that his habits kick in. With the pressure rising, so does his smile. And, though it’d probably be natural for someone in his position to at least jitter from nerves, he doesn’t, or rather, he forces himself still — a trait he picked up in his childhood years that he can now execute as easily as breathing.

 “Tell me, my dear. Have you ever slow-danced with someone before?” He asks.

His notable shift in demeanor has your brows quirking and your limbs pulling away to put distance between you two. Again, you make it obvious your actions aren’t out of displeasure — this time by widening your grin and challenging him by matching his tone.

 “Why yes I have,” You answer, “It wasn’t something I expected to enjoy so much, but you could say I had a ball.”

Your hand is still on his cheek. You realize that only after he reaches up to cup his hand over yours. His skin is smooth, smoother than yours, with the occasional blister here and there. You’d be surprised if you hadn’t known better — what with his appearance telling of a life of lengthy documents reading his future reign, useless lessons that somehow help in dictating status, and boring, lifeless parties with the rich and the wealthy.

It was obvious that though he may possibly be in a high-standing position now, it was one he had to earn one way or another.

But you knew that already. You’ve felt these hands and read their palms during the quiet of the night. When the cool air of the wind was kissing your face and blowing through the luxurious outfit that was definitely supposed to be hugging someone else’s figure that night. It was then in that moment of tranquility that vulnerability shone through and the magician who had performed before an audience of a little over five hundred people that night had shattered into a man who could hardly look you in the eye for longer than a few seconds. The liquor in his system makes him spill all kinds of things to you — a stranger he had barely met an hour ago at the time.

 “Why do you ask?” You egg it on, and at last, he confesses the inner turmoil that has carried him to you.

 “I danced with someone not too long ago myself,” He says, “They had wit, and looked otherworldly even with the mask hiding most of their face… They also sought amusement from everyone they talked to…and because of that, I became infatuated with a person I’d barely known — a thief at that.”

 “Hm, you seem to be in quite the dilemma,” You muse, “But to claim you’re so obsessed, so in love—” You drag your words like a blade along a wall, making it feel almost uncomfortable sinking into his skin, “—is a bit dramatic, no? I mean, c’mon, this isn’t a fairytale.”

 “It felt like one when I was with them,” He retorts, and dammit, maybe the drink was stronger than he thought because his lips don’t stop moving, “Their eyes felt like they were sucking me in as we danced and they kissed me like they wanted to devour me, and yet…when we escaped to that balcony, they looked at me like you would a lifelong friend or a lover.. A- And when they pulled me in for a hug, even though we were mere strangers, I felt so… so…”

 “So…?” You mimicked, half mocking, “Don’t tell me you were going to say safe.”

 “And if I were?” He shot back, “If I did, would it push you to do that again?”

Please. You heard it even though the word was never spoken aloud. It took you for a whirl when you actually felt the organ rooted in your chest jerk with life — like someone had reached in there and manually brought it back to life without the help of sarcasm or clever mockery — though only for that brief moment.

He had done that to you, and with mere half-drunken rambles… Have you seriously grown so soft? …Or did this naive prince and his pitiful pining for something he got a taste of for only a few minutes seriously manage to strike such pleasure and excitement in you that you couldn’t help but swoon?

Whatever it was, you weren’t exactly against it. A good show is a good show at the end of the day and not all unanticipated twists leave an unpleasant tang in one’s mouth. You don’t mind entertaining this for a tad bit longer — well, just until you grow bored and toss him aside like you did with all the other fools.

You pull away. Deciding to reward him with a courteous smile instead of that shit-eating grin you’ve been wearing all night, watching as he visibly turns into mush at the sight of it — like he had fallen in love with you at that moment. It makes your smile grow.

 “I don’t know right now….but stick around until my shift’s over and I’ll have your answer by then,” And through his tipsy haze, he nods.

Hopefully he’s this remotely cute when he’s completely sober. After all, it’d be a shame if you wiped off his gold exterior and rust was revealed to be underneath all along.

⇢ On the last page, you notice two stick figures hugging at the bottom of the page, it reads..

Vessa....wow. There's so much I wanted to put into your letter because you're just that awe-inspiring!! I've always found you as such a cool person and after following you on Tumblr, you became like...a comfort person to me. There have been a plethora of times where my day just sucked and I went on Tumblr to see one of your many positive posts and I just wish I could hug you and shower you in thanks!!! They're always a highlight and I go about my days hoping I can be as strong as you one day!! Life is such a bitch and yet you always manage to stay upbeat and make me and many others smile!! You're like a superhero...except you don't where the tight outfits and goofily big capes lmao-

You're honestly like a big sibling to me. Like, you're just so...relaxing, y'know? Like whenever I see you pop up on my feed or in the server chats, I can't help but get a serotonin boost! That said, I want you to know that you can always come to me if you ever wanna destress/rant! I want you to know that you don't have to shoulder everything on your own nor should you have to!! I will always be here to lend you an ear or a digital shoulder and I hope everyday that one day you'll be truly free from the turmoil in your life and you're able to gain the peace someone as spectacular as you deserves!!

You're phenomenal, Vessa!! Truly an icon whether you believe it or not!! Love you so, so, so much, dear!! <3

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[spiderrmax]

the end?

"50 wordless ways to say I love you"

47. staying up half the night to finish a game with them. word count: 1431 author's note: this was really fun to write because i had to remember the steps to beating the ender dragon. (im not a gamer im sorry) (also since you guys aren't speedrunning you don't finish the game)

It’s 10 pm when you have the amazing idea to start a new minecraft world. When you propose the idea, Kyle laughs, not believing you to be serious at first. The two of you are all ready for bed, his hat discarded and curls loose. However, when you scoot to the end of your bed, turning on your console, he follows suit, sitting right beside you. (The both of you ignore the heat in your face as your legs brush against one another.)

“Minecraft is a game that Ike likes.” Kyle teases, as the familiar soundtrack fills your room.

“Shut up. You mentioned never beating it before. We conquer The End tonight.” You swiftly respond, one of your elbows reaching for Kyle’s ribs. He takes the hit, before recovering quickly, nudging you back into your original spot on the bed.

“The End?” Kyle asks, watching as you make the new world. He smiles a bit when you title it with the two of your initials. You’re cute, he thinks, allowing the thought to simmer before he tries to forget about it.

“It’s where the Ender Dragon lives. You’ll catch on, you’re smart.” You explain, handing him a controller. “You’re going to be the little guy on the bottom half of the screen.”

Kyle doesn’t mention how he’s used to focusing on the upper half, allowing you to teach him the strings. It’s not like he hasn’t played the game before, again it was one Ike enjoyed a lot when they were younger. Ike just never cared to do much other than terrorize villagers and pick flowers.

The game loads up, and the two of you are in a spruce biome. You’re quick to start chopping down wood, and Kyle simply follows in your footsteps. Kyle is impressed with how swift and efficient you are, getting enough wood to make a full set of wooden tools. When you ask for his wood, he has no hesitation in giving it to you, kindly thanking you as you craft his tools too.

“Wanna explore for a bit? We’ll need to go mining at some point but we don’t need to rush the game.” You explain, leaning closer to him. (Kyle doesn’t know if it’s subconscious or not, but he doesn’t move much after that, scared you’ll realize and drift away.)

Kyle’s character mostly follows your character around. You continue to mine at blocks vital to progressing the game — more wood, surface coal, cobblestone — as you guys escape the forest. Playing the game with you is much more relaxing, even if Kyle isn’t making much of the decisions. Not that he minds, really, as it is similar to how Ike would play. If anything, the only reason it’s so tolerable is because he’s playing with you.

The two of you find a village around 11, the hour of exploring feeling like minutes as the two of you wondered around. Kyle watches as you steal from their farms, their chests, and destroys their hay; he can’t feel pity for the villagers with their silly design. Notably, you share the loot with Kyle, not keeping all the nicer items for yourself. It’s almost second nature, to give him the iron pickaxe you found. Kyle leans in closer; you don’t move even as his shoulder brushes.

Before venturing into the mines, you suggest stealing two villagers beds to set your spawn point just incase one of you were to die. Two yellow beds are placed down together, in the middle of a plains biome. Kyle doesn’t comment on your deliberate placement of your bed next to his. He does have to pause to take a sip of his water, face on fire. (It’s just a video game. One he’s playing with you, one he’s enjoying despite the open world. He wonders if you are picking up on his internal struggles, or if you are too focused on the game.)

Hours pass, and the two of you have made more progress than Kyle ever has. You guide him through getting enough diamonds to craft a pickaxe in order to make a portal to the Nether; he wasn’t even aware of the other dimension until you explained it to him.

Despite being prone to raging whenever he dies in game, he doesn’t care when a blaze burns him to a crisp. He watches as your character gets his stuff — “it’ll despawn, I promise to give it back” — and hides in a corner, waiting for him to safely get back to you. He thinks of playing with his friends, who in comparison, would’ve kept his stuff joyfully, and smiles down at you.

You have to get enough blaze rods to get to The End — five, preferably. Once you have that you get to leave the dreaded dimension. As you enter the portal, you show your first signs of exhaustion, yawning and reaching up to rub at your eyes, and Kyle looks up to see it’s one in the morning. 

“Hey it’s getting late. Do you want to head to bed?” Kyle’s voice is soft, peering down at you with such genuineness you can’t stare at him long.

“No, I’m okay. Let’s keep going. We still have to get ender pearls.” You mumble, voice clearly affected from your tired state.

Enderpearls come from Enderman, Kyle learns as the two of you wait for it to be night. In comparison to the five blaze rods, you need 12 eyes. Just in case, you’ll never know how many spots are full at the portal. (You explain things to him with such passion, despite being exhausted. Your hands wave slightly, and Kyle has to take the control from your lap to prevent it from falling. He’s never cared so much about Minecraft.)

Kyle’s first Enderman kills him, coming from behind. You conviently left out how they teleport, and watching him stumble around has you giggling with delirium. Purposely, this time, you lean closer, head tucked against Kyle’s arm. He can feel your laughter, and doesn’t mind being the source of your amusement. As he respawns, he shifts a bit, to allow you to fit better.

You yawn again, and after a moment, a second time. Your character is not moving as efficiently as it once was, and although you haven’t died, you aren’t fighting the mobs either. Kyle is doing most of the work, and almost is cocky with how smooth he can kill Creepers without them blowing either of you up.

At 2:48, you guys finally have gathered 12 pearls. Enderman spawn less frequently than other mobs, thus making it harder to hunt them down. Over the hour you have continued to sink into the warm of Kyle’s hoodie. If it was the morning, with people to witness, he thinks he would be a flustered mess. With the world asleep, it feels right to have you at his side; no one awake to argue with him.

Your character has stopped moving, and Kyle peers down to see if you’re asleep, too. Slowly, you blink up at him, confirmation of your (barely) consciousness. Kyle grins, and pressing a kiss to your forehead comes naturally. A sleepy grin appears on your face, but you don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

When the sun rises in the game, Kyle takes your controller to save the game. Your grip too weak to have any fight, and once the game finishes saving, he turns off the TV. Kyle yawns too, stretching as he stands for the first time in hours. You can barely keep yourself up, and once Kyle’s joints are no longer stiff, he helps guides you back up against your pillows.

“We didn’t get to the End.” You mumble into the comforter, shifting around to create space in your bed for him. He slides in, perfectly designed for the other half of your mattress.

“We can play another day.” Kyle murmurs, pushing hair from your forehead. Your eyes are shut now, and Kyle can’t help but smile from the simple domesticity of it all.

“Thanks for staying up with me.” You cuddle closer, those words acting as your goodnight as you can no longer force yourself to stay awake.

Kyle doesn’t say anything for a moment, yawning himself as he finally lets himself feel exhaustion from being up until three AM.

He tries to think of something romantic to say, like they would in the movies, but he doesn’t need to. The arm he curls around your waist, the way he eases into your mattress, and the relaxed look on his face tells it all.

[exhaustedpirate]

all's fair in love and muay thai

day 18 of @bucktommyfluffebruary (i'm speedrunning these!) buck tries to learn muay thai...again, they bet on it; buck is determined to not get distracted, tommy is determined to make it harder for him! they both win! it gets smutty, well smut-adjacent! big shoutout to @theredrenard for the title!

rated M | 1410 words also on AO3

“Are you sure you’re ready?” 

“Yeah,” Buck grins, jumping on his toes, excited energy in his veins. “You’ve been promising me a Muay Thai lesson for months!”

“Alright, alright,” Tommy laughs placatingly, taking hold of his boyfriend’s hands. In a surprisingly not-surprising way, Buck feels his anxiety settle, feels the older man’s calm energy soothe his. “Let’s see if this time you can actually learn something.” 

Buck flushes at Tommy’s raised eyebrow, his teasingly accusing stare. It wasn’t the first time they were trying this. More like the third. 

He asked to learn, first, after Eddie had left Tommy’s house a few months back. There had been a MMA match on TV and Buck was more than happy to just enjoy the banter between the two men. He suggested Tommy teaching him Muay Thai when his boyfriend mentioned wanting to exercise. After a whole afternoon of watching half-naked men pummel each other and then, seeing Tommy in those shorts and shirtless…well, they didn’t even make it out of the bedroom.

The second time, he doesn’t count it as his fault. Not really. He’s only human after all. Buck had joined Tommy in his garage to work out, but also to be in his boyfriend’s presence. Tommy had all but finished his workout, tank top clinging to his chest, hair wet from sweat. With a grin, Tommy had suggested a Muay Thai practise since he was all warmed up. Buck nodded dumbly, eyes still tracing this drop of sweat rolling down Tommy’s arm. His self-control lasted only until the moment Tommy took the top off. Again, not his fault.

None of them complained.

“Why don’t we bet on it?” Buck smirks, his hands on his hips, noting the way Tommy’s eyes zeroed in on his muscles - Tommy is almost obsessed with his arms, he is not complaining. “If I get…distracted, I’ll, uh, I’ll watch all the movies you want.” 

“And if you don’t,” Tommy pretends to think for a moment, the smirk teasing the corner of his lips giving him away. “I’ll watch all the documentaries you want.” 

Buck bites his bottom lip at that and they grin at each other. The bet is almost meaningless. They lo-care for each other so much, making these “sacrifices” for one another is effortless, it’s all about the competition.

They shake on it, Tommy’s hand gripping Buck’s a little tighter, thumb running over his knuckles and Buck looks at him suspiciously. If there is one thing Tommy knows about Buck is that, whereas Tommy obsesses over Buck’s arms, he obsesses about his boyfriend’s hands. Especially the places on his body they fit so well, the way they grab and stroke and-Focus.

Tommy giggles and he steps back to stand on the mat, Buck following him after shaking himself off.

“Alright,” Tommy claps and Buck inhales sharply. “We'll start with the basic combos. I already know how flexible you are,” Tommy’s eyes roam the length of his body and Buck forces himself not to preen under his stare. “And how you can hold your balance, so this should be easy for you.”

And as Tommy guides him through basic punch-kick combos, Buck tries so hard not to focus on his boyfriend’s hands on his hips, on his arms, on his thigh, his knee. Tommy fixes his posture, stands plastered to his back holding his hips while Buck forces himself to focus on kicking his leg while maintaining his balance. 

“You’re doing great,” Tommy speaks in that low tone that drives him crazy when Buck demonstrates several kicks in a row perfectly. He bites his lip against that little tug in his gut at the praise. “We’re doing high kicks next, think you’re ready?”

Buck’s eyes roam Tommy’s face, the way his eyes shine with pride and mirth with his hands on his hips. That tug in his gut becomes a fluttering. Tommy is sharing a part of himself with Buck - he’s sharing it so that Buck can participate in it with him, so that they can do it together.

Tommy’s grin softens the longer Buck looks at his boyfriend. Tommy wants Buck in his life, wants him to be a part of the things he likes, just like he does. The older man tells him about the rom-coms he likes to watch, about the cars he likes to fix, shows him different types of beer in the same way Buck tells him about the newest documentary about an obscure topic he’s in to, about this new dish he’s experimenting with, the way he brings him to family events.

There is the mutual understanding that they can have their own interests, participate in things without the other. That they can choose not to be a part of a particular side of the other.

They know that but they don’t. They want to be in each other’s lives. 

Uh.

In a fast movement, Buck grabs onto Tommy’s damp shirt and pulls him for a kiss. He swallows his boyfriend’s surprised grunt, feels Tommy soften against him, his arms wrapping around his waist, feels his long hum vibrating against his lips. Feels a foreign but welcome feeling run down his spine - a feeling he yearned all his life to experience in its true, overwhelming sense - and tugs on Tommy’s bottom lip to keep himself from saying it out loud.

They break away slowly, soft lingering kisses on each other’s lips, as if they don’t want to pull away. They don’t. Buck’s hand flattens against Tommy’s chest and he feels the fast pace of his boyfriend’s heart against his palm, knows that, were he to check his own pulse, it would match.

“Evan…”

With a sharp inhale, Buck takes a couple steps back, his feet as wide as his shoulder and arms bent close to his chest. “High kicks, right?” He asks, trying to hide the smirk on his lips at Tommy’s dazed expression. 

He bounces on his feet and does his first attempt at a high kick. As soon as Buck’s foot meets the floor, strong arms wrap around his waist from behind, his smile wide at the warm sensation of his boyfriend’s body wrapped around his back. 

“You are a menace, baby,” Tommy growls, his lips on the side of his neck finally making his shiver. Buck laughs, his hands running up and down Tommy’s arms. “You know that?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean, Tom,” He fakes an innocent tone, causing Tommy’s arms to tighten around him. He nestles into the warm body almost imperceptibly. “I’m trying to learn.”

Tommy hums, tracing the vein in Buck’s neck with open-mouthed kisses. Buck’s hands grip his forearms tighter, his head falling back on the older man’s shoulder. Tommy kisses along Buck’s jawline, one of his hands roaming up Buck’s chest inside his shirt, his hips subtly grinding against the cleft of his ass. He feels himself melt in his hold, matching his boyfriend’s arousal and drawn-out hums vibrating against his back as Tommy focuses on that spot below his ear.

“Y-You got distracted,” Buck breathes out, a soft smirk on his lips when he feels Tommy laugh against the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “We didn’t, hmm, we didn’t think of that possibility.”

“I think,” Tommy whispers and Buck turns his head towards him, welcoming the soft press of the older man’s lips on his. “That means we both win.” 

They kiss through their wide grins as Buck turns to wrap his arms around Tommy’s neck. He relishes the way their bodies fit perfectly against one another, the way he feels Tommy’s hands find that spot on his waist that seemed made for them. 

“I think you’re right.” 

Buck’s back meets the wall of the garage, Tommy’s hand cradling his head protectively. He feels himself melt even further in his hold. His leg runs up Tommy’s thigh, his boyfriend’s hand behind his knee easing it up perfectly until their hips are at the right angle for them to swallow each other’s moans at the contact. Perfect.

Their clothes are scattered along the garage floor, moans echoing through the closed space, hot touches on scorching skin. As they lay in a heap on the foam mat, breathing heavily and hands never having left each other’s hold, Buck thinks how lucky he is to have met Tommy. How lucky he is to have called him after their failed date. He thinks that Tommy is right.

They both win.

[project-sekai-facts]

PREDICTIONS AHEAD! I noticed how the second arc enders were all closer to each other and after analyzing a bit, I then came to the conclusion that the odd enders are more spaced apart than the even enders. 1st arc enders Resonating with you - E21 Magical Showtime - E 25 What Lies Behind - E 38 MORE MORE CHRISTMAS - E 42 Power of Unity - E 54 [Amplitude of 33] 2nd arc enders STEP BY STEP - E 98 Farewell My Mask - E 100 Our Constelatoin of Song - E 101 On Your Feet - E 103 Our Happy Ending - E 104 [Amplitude of 6] 3rd arc enders Over Rad Squad - E 135 Our Hands, Covered in wounds - E 150 [Amplitude of 15 so far]

I would then risk to say that the next arc ender could be Wonderlands Showtime, with a Rui event. We can see from the 1st arc ender that the space between events varies between little jumps and big jumps. We had a big jump now [150-135 = 15] similar to the leap between the WxS and N25; and MMJ and Vbs arc enders. Considering we just got Nene5, 5/6 events from now we should get Rui5, like how we got mizuki5/ena5 with 5 events of interval. It cannot be mmj since Shizuku5 is right at the door. And meanwhile, Rui4 gets closer to EN Server.

For future predictions, I would risk either Haruka 5 or Shiho 5, both as arc enders of their respective units. But considering how Shiho had an event just now, along with being a 2* on both Ichika's and Saki's events, I'm leaning toward her side. (but I would like to mention how Hona5 as ard ender is also a possibility) Shizuku was also featured at said event, although 2 events later she's ready to go.

As for closer events I would like to recall that Honami is dangerously close to focus jail so having her somewhat soon could help fill events.

I would also like to mention our boy Toya who is also getting close to jail. He has gotten many events and cards, his ocean orchestra and 4th anni limited leave me somewhat confused but, considering An5, Kohane5 were limited. Along with Toya getting featured on the 4th anni makes me think he is a permanent event. As for the New Year's. We have 13 Contestants: Ichika; Saki; Minori; Airi; Shizuku; Akito; Toya; Emu; Nene; Rui; Kanade; Mafuyu; KAITO We take out Ichika and Saki immediately for they have gotten hairstyles just a month ago. Followed by Shizuku who is getting her event just now. That leaves us with Mafuyu, Emu, and KAITO as the ones with the least hairstyles, whose dynamics match. Throw in Ichika, whose last 2* was the Sanrio collab, and who knows Mafuyu, their last event dates back to February with Relax Tea Time. Finally, Nene had her last 3* in the 2.5 anniversary. Not to mention that with Ichika and Emu, the dynamic is assured. For Bloom, we can start by looking at Len, the VS with less hairstyles. If we assume that clpl will follow any pattern, we cannot link him with An or Toya since he is a starter VS of VBS. Looking back, neither Shiho, Airi, nor Toya can be, since they got hairstyles from the 4th Anni leaving us with Haruka, who got her Colorfes a long time ago. Similar to Kanade and Rui. If we instead go from the OC with fewer hairstyles, we get Toya. He cannot be linked with Len, and Miku has gotten her hairstyle sooner than Luka. Miku got in ORS while Luka in Wedding Live

This is probs all wrong, it's 5:30am now, have a good day!

aaaa i'm so sorry i'm so late to answering this, i've been meaning to for like two weeks i just kept forgetting orz

okay so for arc enders i definitely think the remaining three will be the next 1 or 2 events for each unit. if we assume 6th anniversary to be arc ender 4/graduation we don't want some units to be speedrunning their conclusion again, which would likely happen if we don't finish up very soon. (how wxs managed to be rushing arc 2 in the first place is a mystery but what's done is done. this is mainly about vbs taking 1yr 8 months to finish arc 1).

my guess is that the next mmj and ln events are arc enders. it'd make sense given the way their recent stories have played out. wxs i'm less sure about. i'm fairly certain next event will be emu and not rui, due to some stuff that happened in emu's card story. given that every troupe we've visited so far has had two dedicated events, we can assume next event will still be the opera company, so it depends on if they want that to be the arc ender or have a conclusion event/rui5 afterwards.

i don't think emu/mafuyu/kaito + nene/ichika NY is very likely at all. emu and mafuyu had a mixed event focused on them only a few months ago, and kaito would have to be an MMJ lim (we literally just got N25 Meiko last month) meaning we need an MMJ girl on the banner, who is most likely to be Airi, though Minori is not impossible. Mafuyu and Nene both already have trained NY cards as well, so they're off the table entirely. Ichika being 2* wouldn't actually be surprising to me though. I think Kanade or Akito is likely to fill the last 4* slot.

bfes has to be Len or he will end up really far behind everyone else bc the mmj girl will break lim cap. also he's really due one anyway so i agree w you there. the pairing character has to be from ln, mmj, or vbs. from those units, the character with the current oldest lim is An, who also doesn't have 7 lims yet either. she's my pick since then you don't have to give her another lim until her 5th anni banner card either. however, she's also possible for vday or wday if we go by the theory that the vsinger cant match with a starter unit member.

i don't think haruka is a likely pick, since that would make 3 out of the 5 rateup characters total be mmj unit (kaito/haruka/either minori or airi), something that only 1 fes gacha has done before (rise as one + fes, but that was an exception anyway due to the need to include saki on wxs fes). if i had to go with anyone other than An, I'd pick ichika or akito or toya.

[absandersons]

"Confessions" and the Beginning

Hello fellow clowns, genuinely fucking unbelievable episode amiright?

FIRST OF ALL, welcome back Bobby's hot priest, missed u bitch.

I really did miss just like regular calls last season, it's nice just to have a random silly one to start an episode.

GIRL I MISS CHRIS AS MUCH AS EDDIE DOES RELEASE HIM FROM HELENA DIAZ'S CLUTCHES!!!!

This man is going through the most insane confessions of his life. First Bobby saying he's a murderer and now Eddie saying that his son caught him with his dead mother like give this man a break lmao.

"I don't deserve forgiveness, I gotta go."

And this is the beginning of Eddie's thesis: what he deserves. More importantly, what he thinks he deserves.

Buck is literally like the most awkward man alive. He has zero game I love him sm.

Bitch. ABBY???? FUCKING ABBY?????? SHE IS BUCK'S SHANNON, CONSTANTLY HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.

"I wonder how many men she turned gay" Maddie is Abby's number 1 hater (besides Eddie lmao)

"Unless there's another boy" JOSH PLEASE!!!!!

The Glee reference Tim Minear you will pay for your crimes lmao

It's interesting that he didn't even seem to consider taking the next step with Tommy until Josh brought it up. Also really interesting how he ends up framing their conversation later, like it's more of an "honoring Tommy" thing than a "I really want to move in with you" thing. Now this could just be awkward scripting or awkward (no game) Buck, but I think it's worth mentioning.

I just love Chim and Maddie so much they are my true north always.

Eddie's tank top? Yeah make that an everyday look for him good lord.

"I'm straight" YEAH SURE JAN WHATEVER YOU FUCKING SAY.

He's punishing himself by not choosing the juice because he doesn't think he deserves it, because he doesn't think he's allowed to take it... He is the obstacle in his own joy. What is that joy? What is he standing in his own way of?

"Because the LAFD doesn't allow beards."

"So it's a disguise?"

"Something like that."

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!!! HELLO?????

"What are you afraid of seeing when you look in the mirror?"

"A failure. Someone that doesn't deserve forgiveness. Or joy."

I'm literally beating my fists on the ground. It's textbook. Fucking textbook. He's hiding from himself, hiding himself from himself, hiding from his joy.

Nothing like 911 to give you the most insane gutwrenching side plot of all time when I tell you I was SOBBING over those two brothers. (To be fair it's been an extremely hard week).

"I'm the himbo" HE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!!!!

Look let me just get this out of the way: I really loved bucktommy. I liked their dynamic and I liked what he was able to teach Buck about himself, but I think Tommy is ultimately right: he can see the writing on the wall, just in the same way he said "my attention?" in 7x04. He was Buck's first queer relationship, but he will not be his last. And I think Tommy has an idea who his last will be, even if he kept that part to himself.

I do think it was kind of an insane speedrun at the end there, I'm not sure why he couldn't just ask Buck to pump the brakes instead of fully breaking up with him.

It's also just a complete manifestation of Buck's greatest fear: abandonment. Abandoned by his parents, abandoned (through no fault of her own) by Maddie, abandoned by Abby, by Taylor, and now by Tommy. It sucks for him, and I hate it for him and for Tommy, who also doesn't seem to think he can have good things, and would rather beat Buck to the punch than actually take the risk and be vulnerable.

I think that this was a good learning experience for them both, and I think they'll both be better for it in the long run.

"I'll see you around, Buck" killed my ass.

MADNEY BABY MADNEY BABY MADNEY BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And lastly, Eddie shaving off the mustache, his barrier from joy, and dancing around his house in his underwear. Finding the joy in being himself, finding the joy in his life again. And Buck knocking on the door, not asking any questions, and them sitting together on the couch, shoulder to shoulder each of their respective "barriers" gone.

They have some things to figure out, but we are so close that I can taste it, I can feel it.

I haven't felt this way since the last season of SPN, and while that didn't turn out the way I wanted (due to network and Robert Singer's meddling), I am confident that that is not where we're heading here. Tim Minear is back. The show is on the Shonda network. Buck is out and Eddie is on his way there. Gay Eddie. Buddie endgame. It's happening, and nothing will get me out of this clown car.

[beanghostprincess]

Follow up of the Marco And Shanks Feuding Over Buggy -

Once things resolve, the captains are somehow the WORST instigators. Roger, once he realized Marco was flirting with his Baby Bug, is caught between "well, kid has good taste" and "Oh I Gotta Kill A Child".

Whitebeard makes frequent comments about daughter in laws and it sends EVERYONE reeling, especially Buggy. He thinks it's hilarious, and it mostly joking ((but a little serious)).

Maybe it's the multishipper in me, maybe it's the polyamory projection, but eventually Shanks and Buggy have The Conversation about being captains of the own crews, of being each other's most definitely, of being married ((they are 13-15 when The End Is Nigh for Roger, and I can see Buggy having a sudden realization that Captain that Dad is dying. She and Shanks speedrun being married so he can do it. They're minors so it isn't official, but they get/make rings, set it up and have Captain officiate it so they're "married". It's the closest they'll get to the real deal and both need their dad there for this.)).

Shanks and Buggy establish an open relationship. They can be with and pursue others, but communication is key and they need to just keep each other relatively in the loop.

Buggy jokingly asks if Marco is still a sore subject, and Shanks shoots her a grin. "If you stay mine, you can be with whoever you like. Just promise me you will make sure he treats you the way you deserve, princess."

The next time Marco crosses either, it's Shanks. And he asks "hey featherhead, still crushing on clowns?"

"And if I am?"

"Here's her denden number - be nice, be polite, don't hurt her or I'll roast you for dinner, chicken boy :))"

"What"

"Byyyyeeeee~"

"No wait what-yoi-?"

Buggy goes on to assemble the world's weirdest, most unexpected polycule. A Yonko husband, a Yonko's division commander boyfriend, two warlords, a Marine, maybe a Revolutionary, just... wild ass polycule.

((Bonus, once she settles in the East for a bit, Zeff takes one look at her and goes "Oh boy now I have a niece. Damn it all." He threatens to shovel talk anyone who dates his weird clown niece but they rarely stop by the East, so he's got the conversations scripted in his head. When Mihawk shows up, he is READY.))

Buggy also has a bunch of evil exes bc she's a catch but she doesn't always clock red flags. It's mostly fine, but if any attempt retaliation, usually she's oblivious, either bc her crew goes full Protect Mom Mode or bc her current partners... take out the trash, as it were :))

Once Luffy realizes Buggy is basically his step mom is all sorts of ways, the Strawhat Protection System is enacted full throttle. She is oblivious. It's hilarious. Buggy has Scary Dog Privileges and doesn't even realize.

Whitebeard still calls her daughter-in-law. Roger is screaming crying throwing up in the afterlife. Rayleigh flips between "Oh my baby girl can handle herself ahe's so strong" and "Nobody Is Good Enough For My Daughter". Crocus hoards all newspapers that so much as mention her or Shanks.

Just. Silly funny polycule shenanigans.

Buggy just has a whole ass harem of boys pining over her and she goes through life thinking they're normal about her but they're not. They're literally obsessed with her. She only loves Shanks and is fond of Crocodile and Mihawk (ends up falling for them eventually, y'know) and the people she has been with have always been just kind of there? She doesn't forget them but she doesn't really care about them either. IT girl, girlboss behavior for once even if she's still a failgirl. But they always remember her. She's not easy to forget. Everybody that loves her is so protective of her too and she wonders why she never gets bothered by anybody?? She believes it's because she's now important and scary and yadda yadda but it's just because people have to go through Rayleigh, the strawhats, Shanks, and Cross Guild to get to her. So, you know, she's protected.

This is just amazing, btw. I also think they have an open relationship. And Marco being extremely confused when Shanks gives him Buggy's number is just hilarious, help. He's having a moment there wondering if it's a trap or something. I think Buggy would have the time of her life, and although Shanks also sleeps with other people, his heart will always be with Buggy. Like- He's the clingiest most annoying husband in the world. He's so proud of calling Buggy his wife. He's just there cheering for her, knowing that no matter how many people she's with, she'll go back to him!! The trust they could've had in each other if things would've gone well,,,,,, Going insane.

[alittledizzy]

this is so random lol but im originally from the dteam fandom and just recently started watching dan and phil a bit so i know almost nothing about them ive seen their sims series and coming out videos and thats about it could u tell me like the basic dan and phil lore for someone who's very new 😭

I love that I got this ask and someone who is a dnp fan who wants to start watching Dream and George on the same day ;_; this one is easier for me so I'm gonna start with it.

Basic lore:

Dan was a fan of Phil when he was a teenager and early/mid 2009 started trying to get that almighty notice by spamming his videos with comments and tweeting him. Phil clearly did notice him and started to engage with him more and more on social media. By September they'd progressed to Skype calls and there were clearly some vibes.

Dan made and posted his first video a few days before he traveled from Reading to Manchester to meet Phil for the first time. They clearly (ahem) got on well, and Dan started traveling to see Phil more and more. Dan's youtube career had a very healthy step up (cough, nepo baby) since he was being immediately and strongly promoted by one of the UK's top youtubers at the time.

By the time Dan was ready to start uni the following year (they met during his gap year), he decided to go to Manchester. Phil moved out of his parents place right around when Dan started uni, and after briefly living in the halls Dan moved in with him. Youtube was starting to be profitable for them both at this point and he wasn't enjoying his law degree so he dropped out in 2011. This was also around the era that they started trying to distance themselves from their (previously publicy confirmed) sexualities and being in a relationship due to various pressures, Dan's mental health, and one fairly big no-fault privacy invasion.

Speedrunning the next few years: Phil got an offer to work with BBC and said he'd do it if Dan could do it with him, which led to them moving to London and getting a radio show with the BBC for a few years. Their youtube careers both exploded, Dan especially, and they had various projects together. In 2014 they started the gaming channel and then ended up getting a book deal and doing their first world tour. Their career continued on in this vague nebulous are they gay, are they together, are they secretly dating women, when will they stop living together bubble until the coming out videos in 2019! Though the last couple of years skewed hard toward glass closet with them being incredibly transparent about being male attracted.

They both came out and Dan confirmed the relationship (though in such a way that people still argue about it now) and then they moved into a place in London they bought and designed from the ground up, sort of cementing the permanance of the relationship. Dan also fucked off for a few years on a very long hiatus (taking the gaming channel with him), tried to get several non-youtube projects launched but failed, did a solo world tour, Phil almost died multiple times, Dan and the gaming channel both came back, and now you're caught up to today!

[blacktofade]

Gemtho Fortnight Day 7

Prompt: Sparring then fucking. That's it, that's the prompt. (My comedy version of this prompt is Gem is all "well if you lose then you have to eat me out" and Etho gets killed immediately, on purpose. Like, not trying to fight back and failing as usual but fully embracing his end as a speedrun ticket to the pussy.)

cw: nsfw

“I think we should make this interesting,” Gem says, panting quietly, sweat dripping down the small of her back.

Across from her, Etho’s in a similar state, his headband and jacket missing, wooden sword held defensively, but even with his mask covering his mouth, she can tell he’s smiling.

“Diamonds?” Etho presumes and Gem finds herself smiling in return.

“Too simple. It needs to be something that you’ll actually start fighting for.”

His eyes are sharp, watching her. “I’m fighting,” he insists and she laughs.

“God, I hope that’s a lie, because you’re not making it difficult for me at all.”

He takes a step forward, a thinly veiled threat that just makes Gem's smile widen as she moves back, keeping the distance between them.

“We can each think of something we want,” Etho tells her. “Without saying it.”

Gem shakes her head. “I’m not agreeing to anything I don’t know.”

“Why? Are you afraid?”

Gem knows what he’s doing, but even still, he gets under his skin.

“This goes both ways,” she warns. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

Etho brings his sword up, clearly ready for their next fight, and Gem’s brain processes a thousand thoughts before settling on just one — what she wants.

“Fine,” she says, and raises her own sword.

True to his word, Etho makes an effort, and Gem’s body sings with the exertion as she gives back the best she can. He’s using what she’s taught him to push her back, to close the space between them and get her on the back foot.

She can see it in his eyes, too — his need to win.

But that’s also his undoing, because the more he wants it, the more she can see his adrenaline start to affect the way he fights. His movements aren’t as clean, he’s too focused on the win, not how to get there.

He leaves himself open to an attack for too long and Gem sighs with exaggerated disappointment as she takes it, knocking him flat on his back on the ground and pressing the tip of her sword to his throat.

“Yield,” she warns and Etho does, nodding and dropping his sword, knowing there’s no way out for him.

He pants heavily, clearly frustrated with himself as he glares up at her.

“You can gloat,” he tells her as she tries to catch her breath, and she smiles and shakes her head.

“I don’t want to gloat, I want what I won.”

She drops her sword beside his and moves to stand over him, one foot either side of his hips.

“Take off your mask,” she tells him, reaching for the button of her pants, and she sees the exact moment it clicks for him.

He scrambles to do as she orders, tossing his mask aside, not seeming to care that it lands in the dirt. He’s too busy watching as she eases her pants and underwear down and off.

When she gets on her knees and straddles his face, his hands clutch at her thighs, tugging as though trying to get her to grind down against his mouth.

Feeling generous, she gives him what he wants, his tongue quick and eager, better at taking her apart than his sword. He could probably even make her beg with it.

He moans, like he’s the one being eaten out, and she rolls her hips, the fingers of one hand tangling in his hair and tugging.

He keeps his eyes open, watching her the whole time, and it makes Gem want to treat him worse. She wants to ruin him, make him submit to her again.

There’s already so much adrenaline coursing through her, she’s buzzing with it, breathing hard.

After months together, he knows what she likes, how she needs it, and she knows it’ll be quick and easy as she rides his tongue.

“This almost makes me think you can read minds,” Gem tells him, inhaling when he focuses on her clit. “If this was what you really wanted the whole time, you should’ve just said.”

He makes a noise against her, some kind of answer that she doesn’t actually care about, too busy enjoying the way it vibrates right where she needs it. She tugs at his hair to make him do it again, and she likes the way it sounds, knowing the whole lower half of his face will be wet by the time they’re through.

He’s drooling, probably enough for it to run down his chin, and she can’t wait to kiss the taste of herself out of his mouth after.

It doesn’t take long before she feels herself slipping, staring down at him, at the straight line of his nose, his eyes, the way his dark roots are starting to grow in. She thinks she loves every part of him, and it’s an epiphany she doesn’t expect to have as he laps at her like that.

“Etho,” she whines, softer than anything else she’s said to him all day, and his brows draw together in concentration as he makes her body ache for him, as he breaks her apart.

She comes, just as easy as she expected, her eyes clenched shut, mouth open on a silent groan, and when she finally drags in a breath, it’s ragged and loud and she folds forward, catching herself with on hand beside Etho’s head.

“Oh god,” she gasps. “Oh.”

He doesn’t relent until she finally finds the strength to lift up, forcing him to stop because he can’t reach.

She hovers there for a moment before easing back, carefully crawling down his body to sprawl out on top of him instead. He’s warm and she rises and falls with every breath he takes, the hot air of it blowing into her hair.

“You’re better at that than you are at fighting,” she tells him and he grunts and curls his arms around her, holding her close.

“Prefer that to fighting,” he admits, and it’s not a surprise, but Gem presses a kiss to his shoulder, through his shirt, feeling lucky to know so much about him now.

When she turns her head and rests it against him, letting the last of the tension leave her body, she can’t help but wonder.

“What were you going to make me do if you’d won?” she asks and Etho hums quietly in a way that she feels through her own chest.

“You won’t believe me now,” he sighs, and she shifts enough to be able to look up at him.

“Try me.”

“I was going to make you let me eat you out.”

Gem lets out a noise of disbelief.

“No you weren’t!” she cries, trying to sit up, even as Etho’s arms tighten around her and he laughs below her. And despite it all, Gem would never want to be anywhere else with anyone else.