#and people talk abt how 'nobody wants to work' i am BEGGING you for a job. literally begging (cover letters).

[silverislander]

people smarter than me have said this before but jesus christ why does every job seem to require at least a year of experience and a degree in some hyperspecific field. where did the entry level positions go? how am i even supposed to get experience if none of yall will give me a job without it?

[beescake]

PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU

HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂

also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read

i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.

sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.

and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.

aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me

how much more. raw it is

to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about

with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note

because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.

it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going

and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.

or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.

sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.

and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.

i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.

there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.

contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.

her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.

there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo

with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.

the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.

unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.

however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.

their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.

taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.

even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.

but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.

to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.

and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.

i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.

idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.

i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.

to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.

back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.

but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.

no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.

even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.

not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.

it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.

but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.

sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.

but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck

lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.

hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.

ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.

maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.

and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.

they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.

they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.

optional post-canon segment:

one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).

hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.

that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again

but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.

it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it

idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible

srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)

[koqabear]

Killer Instinct

× Playlist ×

“Beomgyu knows better than to get himself involved in that shady fight club you always warn him about— but he never listens to you, and despite how much you beg him to leave that place alone, you don’t find yourself to be too surprised when he starts bringing those same people you warned him about to you.”

MMA Fighter! Taehyun x fem!reader 

Genre: underground fight club! au, mma fighter!taehyun, enemies to lovers, thriller/action, angst, smut

Word count: 37.4K

Warnings: general violence. (This is an mma au; fighting, blood, injuries, etc.) illegal activities (underground clubs, gambling, etc) older!mc (3 years gap), use of the word “noona”, talks about family issues, single parenting, tae is a little bitch, weapons, (knives, guns), stabbing, cigarette smoking, mc is also a bitch (they’re mean to each other), medical inaccuracies probably sksjsj, a bit of jealousy… mentions of bullying, mentions of power imbalance & manipulation, alcohol consumption, mentions of death & coping, mma inaccuracies bc i am not a professional!!

Smut warnings: dom!tae, sub!mc, mc is slightly bratty, manhandling, breast play, marking, biting, oral (f. rec), bro is a pussy fiend, (service top!tae? maybe?) hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie(s)

Notes: i’ve worked on this stupid story for so long that i don’t even want to look at it anymore. (/hj.) another warning that idk anything abt mma, so there are definitely inaccuracies! features literally the whole idol industry,,, they're scattered like easter eggs. 

The air is thick and foggy; Taehyun can already feel the sweat beginning to form on his brow the moment he enters, pushed around like a rag-doll from the full capacity of the room. No one bothers to spare him a glance— he’s a nobody, a clueless figure that’s given away from the sheer curiosity that breaks through his eyes. The poor boy is forced to hold in a cough as someone proceeds to blow cigarette smoke in his face; he hears a few mocking chuckles around him. 

None of that matters, though. The flickering, weak lights overhead manage to spotlight his objective perfectly, his eyes lighting up with wonder as he feels a grin threatening to spread on his face; before him, two unknown men stand in a ring. 

Taehyun’s muscles twitch in attention— his mind is racing, imagining himself in their place as he watches the two slowly circle each other, wondering what he would do if he were in their place; even from here, Taehyun can see the hungry look on one of the men’s faces, a bloody grin stuck on his face as he keeps his hands up and close— his hair is tied up and out of his face as he stares his opponent down. 

It’s tense, wild even, as he finally swings, landing a punch to the other man’s stomach as the crowd around the ring roars— in approval or dread, he isn’t sure entirely. It’s a mixture of everything, men and women alike gesturing wildly as their screams blend in with the crowd; all to form a violent audience, closing in hysterically on the ring in hopes of getting a good view. 

Taehyun feels adrenaline coursing through him— it’s contagious. 

He fights the urge to try and push through, curious to see what might be going on as a sudden unanimous roar sweeps through the crowd. His eyes dart wildly, watching people celebrate, clapping each other on the backs as they cheer; others don't share the feeling, upset or even angry as he finds people being held back from trying to get on the ring— security is quick to put an end to it, though. 

And as he slowly watches the crowd scatter, he sees the same man from before circling the ring, bloody and bruised as he walks back to the referee; his arm is thrust up by the official as his supporters cheer in victory. Eyes scanning the room, his eyes briefly land on Taehyun’s before he’s back to gloating, proud despite the clear beating he took himself. 

Taehyun can feel his ambitious heart beat faster— he doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but he wants to be up there next. 

The buzz of it all is quick to calm down; it’s as though nothing happened, and he notices the way the unconscious man gets picked up and carried towards an infirmary— taking in his condition, Taehyun shudders, trying to shake it off before he looks for his target.

“‘scuse me,” Taehyun says, voice rough and as confident as he can get it to be— he hopes the referee can’t see through his act of bravery. The man barely spares him a glance before he nods, seemingly able to see what he’s here for— the small quirk of his lips is more mocking than anything to Taehyun. 

“What do you want, kid,” the unamused tone of the man before him isn’t very encouraging— for a moment, Taehyun almost feels foolish for stepping inside such a foreign ground without proper connections; he’s quick to push the feeling away, much too used to the patronizing looks he gets for being a newcomer. 

“Get me in the ring,” he can’t seem unsure now— if anything, any ounce of hesitation will get him denied immediately. Taehyun is demanding, jaw clenched and gaze hard as he stares at the older man before him; his eyes narrow at the younger’s words, and for a second Taehyun wonders if he took the wrong approach. 

“You got money to bet?” The older man’s words only bring excitement to Taehyun— he can’t hold back his eager nod, ignoring the man’s amused chuckles as he reaches into his duffle bag; carefully, he pulls out a thick wad of cash, allowing it to peek slightly out of his bag as he glances back up at the referee— judging by the smug look on his face, Taehyun is sure that what he’s brought is more than enough. 

“Good boy,” the referee whistles, but Taehyun chooses to ignore his blatant mockery as he tucks the envelope back in. 

“Jin,” the man introduces himself, offering his hand out in the introduction— Taehyun takes it, the smooth leather of Jin’s black gloves stained with blood as he holds the younger’s hand tightly; he tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice the blood smudge onto his skin, attempting to wipe it off without being noticed. “Let’s go get you on the registry, I’ll see if I can find another newbie for you.”

“Taehyun,” he says, following obediently as Jin weaves through the crowd effortlessly. Taehyun, however, isn’t as lucky, struggling to keep up as everyone seemingly goes out of their way to get in his path— it isn’t long before Taehyun resorts to pushing roughly through the faceless people. 

“Newbie? I don’t—“ Taehyun grunts as someone shoulder checks him, turning to the side roughly as he attempts to keep his sight on Jin; slowly, he’s able to catch up, “Don’t put me up against a newbie.” 

The curious glance Jin spares is enough for Taehyun to get the confidence to continue. 

“Put me up with someone experienced— all or nothing.” 

Jin can’t control the laugh that escapes him at the younger’s words; his head is thrown back, briefly catching the attention of those around him as he stops before the bar. Leaning against the wooden counter, Jin’s act quickly becomes unamusing to Taehyun as he’s forced to watch as the older man attempts to regain his composure. When he does, Taehyun can feel his jaw tick— pure mockery fills Jin’s eyes.

“You even know how to fight, kid?” Taehyun says nothing, afraid of what might come out if he chooses to open his mouth. But his steely gaze is enough for Jin, who reluctantly holds his hands up in surrender—he can tell there’s still a reluctance in the man to take him seriously. 

“Fine, I’ll give you your money’s worth,” Jin mutters, glancing back at the black duffle bag that remains secured at Taehyun’s side, “from the amount you showed me, I’m sure I could get The Bear’s attention.” 

“The Bear?” Taehyun echoed, frowning at the name. Jin only scoffs, rolling his eyes at the title. 

“I know. Stupid, isn’t it? Whatever sticks, I guess,” the referee grumbled, clearly displeased at the thought of having to announce any ridiculous names— clearing his throat, Jin squared his shoulders as he shot Taehyun a smug smile. 

“The one who just won— that’s The Bear,” Jin explains, narrowing his eyes as he gauged Taehyun’s expression, “I saw you staring— you stick out badly— and I know you wanna have a go at him.”

Solemnly, Taehyun nods— Jin only sighs at that.

“Of course,” he runs a hand through his hair, seemingly unfazed by the uncleanliness of his gloves, “everyone does.”

Taehyun wondered if Jin berated every newcomer like this— he wouldn’t put it past the referee, quite honestly. It hadn’t been long since they met, but this short amount of time had Taehyun wondering if the older man even wanted to be a part of this place; slowly, a fire lights in Jin’s eyes, leaving Taehyun confused as he watches the man let out a cruel laugh; his eyes were no longer on Taehyun’s, but instead at a very distant point behind him— one glance over his shoulder and he was able to see victor from before approaching— The Bear. 

“Cocky, faceless fighters like you,” Jin calls out, bringing Taehyun’s attention back as the younger’s eyes meet his— something is threatening within them, and Taehyun wished that he didn’t feel a sense of danger lick up his body as a grin overtook the referee’s face, “I love watching them get put in their place.”

Taehyun was unable to say anything to that— Jin’s expression seemed to light up as he pushed himself off the bar, his gloved hand slapping on Taehyun’s shoulder, startling the boy as he felt himself turned around forcefully— any angry comments died on his tongue as Jin pulled him into his side, walking forward as he called out a foreign name: Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu!” Jin calls out, grinning wildly as he forces Taehyun to follow along. Like before, Taehyun is turned into nothing but a rag-doll, fighting back the urge to shake him off as they approach the man— he can feel the curious stares of the patrons dig into him, and Taehyun begins to wonder what he got himself into as Seokjin’s fingers dig into his shoulder— almost as though he were preventing him from running away. 

One look at the man before him has Taehyun’s nerves on fire— were they really going to let him fight like this? The man before him is bruised and bloody, refusing to stop at the infirmary as he shrugs on his coat; slowly, a grin overtakes his features, a slight wince stopping him as his cut lip reopens— Taehyun can hear the man curse under his breath. 

“Who’s this?” Though Beomgyu’s eyes remain on Taehyun’s, he’s not truly talking to the newcomer; Jin is quick to respond, shaking the young boy teasingly as he laughs.

“Taehyun,” Jin says, patting the boy’s shoulder as he glances at him, “says he wants to have a go at you.” 

Beomgyu quirks a brow at that— he’s clearly amused, letting out a soft huff as he’s crossing his arms over his bare torso; Taehyun can already spot dark bruises forming in certain spots, his thin and reddened fingers tapping at his bicep impatiently as he surveys Taehyun.

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu drawls, tilting his head as though he were in thought, “I don’t wanna scare the poor kid off by giving him a good beating.”

This, Taehyun decides, is about all he can put up with; shrugging Jin’s hand off his shoulder, he scoffs, stepping forward and coming face to face with Beomgyu— the man isn’t even much taller than him, and he seems to be around his age too— yet the arrogance pours off him in waves, looking at Taehyun as though he were lesser than him— yet, he hasn’t seen what Taehyun can do. 

Beomgyu doesn’t seem phased by any of this; it’s like the smug look on his face is permanent, his head held high as Taehyun takes a moment to survey him. The air is tense as the patrons at the bar become aware of what’s happening before them; it isn’t long before they’re all taunting either Taehyun or Beomgyu, encouraging them to fight in hopes that they’ll get another show.

“If anything, I should be the one worried for you,” Taehyun mutters, a fake look of sympathy crossing his face at the thought, his voice patronizing as he continues, “I wouldn’t wanna ruin your pretty face.”

A pause. Beomgyu’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing as he fights back the smile that itches to show; shaking his head, he scoffs, enjoying the way Taehyun’s fiery gaze seems to burn into his skin. He sighs— it’s long and labored, his head thrown back as he shakes his bangs out of his face— then he reaches out, clapping Taehyun on his shoulder as he looks at Jin, nodding in approval. 

“Get us in the next best slot,” Beomgyu says, and the spectators seem to grow more excited with his every word. Glancing back at Taehyun, he smiles; it’s mischievous and sly, but Taehyun doesn’t allow it to get to him as he stands his ground. “I need to freshen up.”

The room is buzzing with energy as everyone seems to spread out, watching Beomgyu disappear into the locker room before they begin to bet on the results; Taehyun grimaces at the number of people who are already betting against him. 

“Seems like you bit off more than you can chew,” Jin whispers, leaning in as he bumps against Taehyun playfully. “You got twenty minutes; pray if you need to.” 

Taehyun grits his teeth as Seokjin walks back to the bar, leaning in towards the bartender as they talk, glancing back at Taehyun before they’re laughing and nodding— it doesn’t take a genius to guess what they’re talking about. Readjusting the strap of his duffle bag, Taehyun has no choice but to make his way into the locker room; he just hopes The Bear can save his temper for the match. 

It wasn’t as though he wanted to provoke the man— if anything, it was the last thing he wanted to do. But, it wasn’t long before Taehyun realized that being nice wouldn’t get him anywhere; luckily for him, he didn’t truly mind. 

The locker room is small, just as Taehyun expected; the lighting is dim and there isn’t much room to move due to the benches that line the walkways— Taehyun frowns at the inconvenient layout. At the end of the wall to his left, he finds a doorway to another room— he catches a glimpse of showers and bathroom stalls; the water runs on that side of the room, and Taehyun can already guess who might be behind the flimsy wall that separates them. Sighing, Taehyun looks for the nearest empty locker.

The sound of running water fills Taehyun’s head, blocking out everything else as he begins to think— attempting to remember all the moves Beomgyu used, trying to decipher his fighting style; his mind raced with different possibilities he could use to counter him. 

“Hey,” Taehyun is ripped out of his reverie at the firm voice, his head snapping up at the realization that they were talking to him; turning around, he’s unfazed to find The Bear staring at him blankly. 

“First time in the cage?” He asks, tilting his head as he surveys Taehyun curiously. Taehyun shakes his head in response, watching as Beomgyu only nods thoughtfully at that. It’s clear he took a moment to patch himself up, but it’s still strange to Taehyun that he’s willing to go for another match so soon— his cockiness only fuels Taehyun further. 

“It sure does look like it.” Beomgyu doesn’t bother lingering around— he’s ready, clapping Taehyun on the shoulder before he’s walking away, heading back out as he spares Taehyun one last apathetic glance. “Don’t get your hopes up too much, ‘kay? I’ll even go easy on you.” 

Taehyun says nothing. He can feel his jaw clench, trying his best to bite back another comment as he watches the older man exit the locker room; His fists tighten, the feeling of his hands tightening over the material of his wraps allowing him to calm down as he takes a steady breath. Sighing, his head is tilted back, eyes surveying the dim room for a clock— it isn’t long before he spots it above the doorway, calculating how much time he has left to prepare. 

Ten minutes.

That’s more than enough for him.

⊹⊹⊹

The cage is freshly cleaned. It reeks of cleaner and is scuffed and old under Taehyun’s feet. He has no interest in hearing about the fight that went on before his— the bored mumblings of the spectators were enough for him to tune everything out. The seating area wasn’t that big, but it was enough for the people that were more than ready to gamble and waste away from alcohol as they watched; it didn’t take a genius to know that the regulations in the place weren’t very strict. 

There’s someone new standing in the cage— a commentator, Taehyun realizes. He looks like he could be a fighter himself, but the fire in his eyes seems to be curated more for the thrill of commentating every detail of the fights before him. Words spill rapidly from his mouth, but Taehyun can’t bring himself to tune in; his bright platinum hair is glowing, even under the flickering lights, and the commentator’s names manages to slip through the walls of Taehyun’s concentration— Taeyong, with his co-commentator, Jeno. 

It’s clear they’re here to do nothing more than build up tension, making useless comments that make the audience cheer or roar with disapproval. Taeyong is gesturing wildly, pointing to the fighter’s separate corners as he seems to be talking about them; Taehyun can feel the searing stares of the people around him.

Beomgyu stands across from him, his hair pulled back and his face gone dead as he stares at Taehyun— he doesn’t look away for a second. His hands are left at his sides, fingers clenching around his wraps as he tilts his head side to side; Taehyun hears the faint crack of his bones, even from where he stands. He frowns, beginning to feel antsy the longer the commentators take— from the corner of his eye, he sees Jin enter the ring, nodding to Taeyong and Jeno as they shake hands.

Taehyun takes a slow breath, jaw clenching as he feels his teeth bite into his mouth guard. He can feel his impatience growing the longer he stares at The Bear, watching as the man before him only smiles mischievously at him; he’s pacing around his side, eyes pinned to Taehyun as though he were a predator ready to strike. 

The Bear’s eyes light up the moment the two commentators exit the ring. 

Their voices still ring out through the speakers, spewing random things about the scene as Jin beckons the two to approach him. 

“I want a clean, fair fight.” Jin begins, reaching out to clasp the two’s shoulders, “You know the rules. Protect yourself at all times, touch gloves if you want to.” 

A beat passes as Jin glances at the two fighters— Taehyun does nothing; Beomgyu only grins at that. 

Sighing, Jin backs away from the two, clapping his hands before he points back to their respective sides. 

“Back to your corners,” Jin yells, huffing as he backs away, mumbling under his breath as he does so, “let’s get this over with.”

Taehyun’s hands come up instinctively, eyes narrowing as he waits for the familiar sound of the bell. Beomgyu does the same, his stance opening as an undeniable smile graces his lips; if Taehyun didn’t know better, he’d almost think this was nothing but a game to him.

His body tenses the moment the bell rings throughout the room, his mind racing as he watches Beomgyu begin to make his way to him.

Nothing happens at first; they circle each other, Taehyun’s feet pacing quickly around the cage as he waits for a good opening. The useless chatter of the commentators threatens to break his concentration, but he knows better than to pay attention to anything other than the man before him. 

Beomgyu throws the first punch. A sharp jab is directed toward his head, but it doesn’t land as Taehyun sharply moves away. Everything changes in an instant; the moment Beomgyu puts his arm out is the moment Taehyun begins to look for a weakness. It’s a rapid flow of punches and dodges, the commentators making a fuss over everything as nothing connects properly.

Beomgyu’s punches are strong; Taehyun’s forearms ache at the impact, jumping back the moment Beomgyu attempts to land a kick— a liver shot, Taehyun realizes with a small smile. 

The two boys are equally matched, and it isn’t long before the crowd catches onto that fact— suddenly the fight has become more interesting, and Taehyun can sense everyone’s eyes on them as he watches Beomgyu prep for another kick, the minuscule mistake of his rear hand coming down giving Taehyun the perfect opening. 

Taehyun’s body twists violently, his right hand swinging around as he aims for Beomgyu’s head; the impact sends the crowd roaring. 

He feels his fist come in contact with a wound from his previous fight, his brow splitting back open as Beomgyu winces at the feeling— he wobbles slightly from the shock, his eye squinting as blood begins to trickle down.

“You motherfucker,” Beomgyu’s lips read, snarling at Taehyun as his guard seems to be raised. His arms immediately come back up, protecting his head as another of Taehyun’s punches threatens to connect. With his body exposed, Taehyun is unable to stop the kick that shoots straight at him, at the same spot as before; He feels his vision blur for a second as his breath is knocked out of him. 

Beomgyu is coming back for more as the last counts for the round are yelled out. Jabs and kicks are exchanged in rapid fire, and it’s all lost in a blur of motion as the two attempt to weaken the other— the bell rings, signaling the end of the round. 

Back in his corner, Taehyun is surprised to find that Beomgyu has no coach. He’s just like him, forced to tend to his wounds and think of a new strategy on his own; Taehyun is surprised The Bear was able to land such strong hits with his vision impaired so badly. 

Beomgyu is a ruthless fighter; he has technique and experience, and it seems that all mercy will fly out the window the moment he catches his opponent in a vulnerable spot— Taehyun just needs to make sure to not give him the opportunity.

“Ready?” Jin’s strong yell breaks through both of the fighter’s minds, and it isn’t long before Taehyun finds himself back in the center of the ring, adjusting his mouthpiece as he doesn’t bother paying attention to Jin’s rambles. 

“Knock ‘em out Bear, get this over with,” it’s the only thing that catches Taehyun’s attention, the sharp glare he sends to Jin doing nothing as he’s told to go back to his corner— though he doesn’t miss the smug look that Beomgyu sends him. 

The new round is immediate; there’s a fire in Taehyun’s eyes, his body pumping with adrenaline as he immediately approaches Beomgyu, unsurprised to find that he does the same. His breathing is slightly labored as the exhaustion from the last round seems to be catching up to him, but Taehyun doesn’t let the feeling deter him as Beomgyu attempts to deliver another kick; Taehyun counters it with one of his own. 

Nothing seems to land properly; it’s beginning to frustrate Taehyun, but he knows not to let the feeling linger too long— he’s found himself cornered, and it isn’t long before he’s wrapped up in a clinch; The Bear’s limbs constrict his, tightening around him as he attempts to wrestle him to the ground, his punches directing jabs to his ribs and face— one connects roughly against his nose, and he can already feel the familiar liquid dripping out. It’s painful, but Taehyun doesn’t let the feeling overwhelm him as he tries to break the other’s hold on him.

Though he finds himself on the floor, he’s able to break away from The Bear’s grapple, shaking himself off as he backs away, attempting to reassess the situation before him. 

Something shifts in his opponent. 

Time is running out in the round, and they both seem to realize this as punches are delivered in a more rapid fire. Taehyun hates to think it, but The Bear’s technique is good as his hits begin to fly before him, struggling to keep up as he delivers a few of his own.

One lands against the side of Beomgyu’s head; it manages to break his concentration, the hook breaking through him as it connects harshly to the man’s jaw. Taehyun can already feel his body moving before he realizes, his body seemingly moving on its own like instinct. Beomgyu manages to get a jab of his own, but it does nothing against the next punch that has him stumbling back, his vision spinning as Taehyun continues to go after him, preparing for one final move.

A roundhouse kick— straight to his liver, stunning the man as he feels his body begin to scream at him from the impact, leaving Taehyun stumbling from his horrible footing. He’s only able to get a few more punches out before Beomgyu’s falling, the referee screaming at Taehyun to back away from him the moment he falls back.

Adrenaline fills Taehyun’s body the moment he processes everything.

The crowd roars at the spectacle; Taehyun doesn’t realize what he’s doing as he roams before Beomgyu— his wounds sting and his skin is red and bruised as he grins, teeth gritting against his mouthpiece as he smiles, not bothering to wipe away the blood that drips down from his wounds— the cage is stained with it, a mark of his territory as adrenaline courses through his veins; his eyes scan over the crowd, filled with people who were set on him losing— he can only laugh at the sight.  

“Get up,” Jin yells at Beomgyu, attempting to break through the noise as he pats his cheek, “can you get up?”

Beomgyu’s nod is slow and defeated. He’s sitting up and leaning against the cage as the bell tolls like a deadly gong around him. Peering through his heavy lids, he sees Taehyun’s celebration, in a condition no better than his as he’s stumbling to the center to meet Jin.

“Impressive,” Jin admits quietly, and just like he’s seen before, his hand is thrust up as the audience cheers wildly, the proud grin taking energy from Taehyun as his posture slouches slightly.

Despite looking down at him, Jin looks surprised— impressed, even. The thought makes Taehyun smile as he tilts his head back, squinting at the bright lights that are hot on his skin, a long exhale leaving him as he laughs once more; he was just getting started.

⊹⊹⊹

Taehyun’s head feels as though it’s been split open; he doesn’t really remember what happened after his win. 

He can’t bring himself to move, a deep sigh escaping him as he winces at the bright lights above him; the cot he lays on is stiff, the uncomfortable paper beneath him crinkling as he attempts to get slightly comfortable— his face is stiff with bandages.

Another fight seems to be going on outside; the annoying ramblings of the commentators seem to seep into where he is. Taehyun is too tired to linger around, so he attempts to put the last of his energy into sitting up properly— his thoughts are interrupted by the loud footsteps that approach the room. 

“Beomgyu!” The voice is angry, growling with frustration as the door swings open. Taehyun attempts to look up at the sound, but it’s futile as the curtain around his cot obscures his view. 

“Beomgyu, you fucker!” Taehyun winces— his head is throbbing at the intrusion, and his eyes shut tightly in hopes that the newcomer will shut up soon. “You little snake, you’re dead meat!”

“Can you please quiet down?” The voice that was once taunting and dripping with confidence is now gruff and tired— Taehyun can recognize that voice anywhere, and suddenly, his urge to leave is only amplified. 

“Jesus, I don’t get why you always come here screaming like that,” Beomgyu says, exhaustion sowed in his voice, “It’s not like it’ll change anything.” 

“Fuck! Look at you!” The woman pushes past all his irritated comments, and Taehyun hears both protests from Beomgyu and the crinkling of paper, “I can’t believe you, how the hell am I gonna explain this to your mother? You know she hates it when you sneak over here!” 

“Chill with that, I can handle myself just fine,” Beomgyu scoffs, “You should be more worried about the other guy, anyway— gave him a good beating.” 

Taehyun scoffs at that. 

“The other guy?” The woman says, and before Taehyun can prepare himself, he hears footsteps approaching where he lays— the curtain is ripped away without warning, and Taehyun hisses at the lights that shine in his eyes. 

“Holy shit!”

He’s not sure if he should be offended by that, but Taehyun keeps his eyes shut in hopes that the woman will simply turn her attention back to Beomgyu; he’s surprised to feel her approaching him more. 

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbles, observing Taehyun as though he were a spectacle; Taehyun takes a deep breath, hoping that his patience doesn’t run out soon, “Beomgyu, you prick!”

“Hey,” Taehyun grumbles, brows twitching in frustration as he screws his eyes shut, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scream in my ear.” 

“Oh shit,” The woman jumps back at his words— almost as though she hadn’t expected him to be awake. One look at his angry expression has her quieting down, whispering a soft apology before she’s turning back to Beomgyu. 

“You little snake,” she hisses, whispering angrily as she crosses her arms on her chest angrily, “you were supposed to come help unload the delivery today! You were the only strong one available that day, so imagine your mother’s surprise when you’re nowhere in sight!” 

Peeking through his lids, Taehyun is able to catch a glimpse of the woman stomping over to Beomgyu, slapping his arm roughly as he yelps in response; the sight is almost amusing. 

“I had to lie my ass off and say you were fucking studying!” Another rough smack is delivered to his arm, as though her mentioning the incident brings back pure rage, “Of course she didn’t believe me at first! So I volunteered to do it myself! My arms are so sore, you fucker!” 

“Don’t seem sore to me,” Beomgyu grumbles, rubbing his bicep as he scoots away from the violent woman. “I’ll make it up to you, ___. I promise.”

The woman, ___, only shakes her head in disappointment. Turning back around, she stalks her way back to Taehyun. 

“Sorry about his recklessness,” she says, and Taehyun’s eyes only widen as she bows in apology— he sits up, wincing as he awkwardly attempts to shake her off. Standing straight, she huffs, hands folded neatly in front of her as she sends him a polite smile.

“___,” she introduces, fishing in her pocket for something; a business card, he realizes. “Feel free to stop by for a meal— on the house. I promise we don’t condone that one’s behavior,” Beomgyu quietly dismisses her, saying that he’s not that different from me; his words don’t seem to reach her. 

The card is cool and smooth in his fingers, and Taehyun nods softly as he watches her bow again; then she’s walking back to Beomgyu, sending him a sickly sweet smile as she leans in.

“Two hours. You better be back for the dinner rush. Or else,” wordlessly, she brings up a fist, slamming it into her open palm in a clear threat. Beomgyu gulps, the action not as subtle as he wished as he nods nervously. Straightening up, she smiles, ruffling Beomgyu’s hair before she leaves— it isn’t until then that Beomgyu clears his throat, calling after her hurriedly. 

“Hey,” He yells, pointing at her accusingly— yet she doesn’t turn back around once, his words falling on deaf ears as they watch her retreat, “Stop giving out free meals like that, you’ll go broke doing this shit!” 

Swiftly, she flicks him off. 

Then, she’s gone. 

Taehyun has to stifle a laugh as Beomgyu huffs in bewilderment, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide it the moment Beomgyu sends him a killer glare. From the corner of his eye, Beomgyu runs his hand through his hair desperately, cursing quietly to himself as he stares at the doorway, then glances back up at the clock— it’s silent save for the quiet mutterings of the man next to him. 

The door opens again, and Jin walks inside.

“___ just left?” He asks, leaning against the doorway as he looks expectantly at Beomgyu; he nods, a frustrated look on his face at the very mention of the woman. Jin groans, shaking his head as he lets out a deep sigh. 

“Damn. I promised Jungkook I’d try to make her stay a while.” Beomgyu sneers at that, throwing his pillow at the referee as Jin dodges it with ease, a squeaky laugh escaping him before he throws it back at the younger man. 

“Tell him to go find her at that damn restaurant if he’s so interested,” Beomgyu snarls, rolling his eyes at Jin’s amused reaction. Laying back down, he pulls the curtains back around his cot, his voice muffled as he calls out, “And you better not be thinking about going for that free meal, newbie.”

It becomes Taehyun’s turn to sneer. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu is dead meat.

It’s the only thought that runs through your mind, glaring at the cutting board beneath you as vegetables fly through your hands. All the background noise dies as you allow yourself to think, glancing back at the clock in hopes that the next hour will pass by quickly. 

You’re not sure what led him to involve himself so deeply in that strange underground MMA club. It was dangerous and untrustworthy— you and his mother made sure to drill that into his head the first time you caught him messing around. 

Even so, it seems as though your efforts only fall short in the end. No matter how much you team up with his mother, telling him that he should consider taking up the business in the future, or god forbid, actually focus on college, it always ends up in him shrugging you off dumbly, or waving you off as he tells you not to worry—  he knows what he’s doing. 

You’re on autopilot as you sift through the countless orders, the small open layout of the kitchen allowing you to peek at the entrance from time to time—all in false hopes of seeing the young boy you always pestered.

Two years isn’t much of a difference, but god, Beomgyu made it feel like it was sometimes. Most of the time you felt more like an older sister than an employee at his mother’s restaurant— it wasn’t your fault the man was quite the nuisance, your schedule becoming much more consistent and forcing you to see him practically all the time, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself wrapped up in the Choi family's personal lives. 

Five minutes. You think to yourself, gritting your teeth as the next hour passes, you’ll give him five more minutes.

The next five minutes pass seamlessly. 

Honestly, was two hours not enough? You get that Beomgyu was very particular about his appearance despite his interest, but two hours was more than enough for a person to patch themselves up and come back home. You attempted to not let your frustration show, averting your eyes the moment Ms. Choi appears in your peripheral vision, mumbling in curiosity about where her son might be. 

Another five minutes pass— then, thirty. The restaurant is beginning to fill up as it always does, and you’re trying to hone your concentration in hopes that your undying rage won’t seep through your face. The sound of the bell ringing breaks through your thoughts, and you look up automatically to greet the new customer. 

Your grip on your knife tightens. 

“He—“ Ms. Choi gulps, her jaw dropping at the sight as she turns frantically to you. Taking in your expression she sighs, exasperated as she rubs at her face in frustration. “He wasn’t studying, was he?”  

Making eye contact with Beomgyu, you allow your muscle memory to take over, cutting through the vegetables effortlessly as you grit your teeth, not looking away from him for a second. 

“No ma’am.”

His mother is speechless as she scoffs in frustration, cursing at her son under her breath before she’s taking off her apron— you don’t bother glancing back at the younger boy as you turn back to your cooking, the sounds of the Choi’s hushed bickering reaching your ears as they go to the back. 

It takes a while before Beomgyu emerges, patched up and pouting as walks up behind you. 

“Where do you want me,” he says, petulant with his tone as he glances at the workers around him; they barely spare him a glance, all too used to his behaviors as they focus on their orders instead. You hum in thought, looking up from your stove as you survey the area— like always, Beomgyu has managed to sneak in toward the end of the rush hour; it’s not like you’re short-staffed in the kitchen, either. 

“Go bus tables,” you say, rolling your eyes at the way Beomgyu whines at your words. He’s as annoying as ever, pulling at your sleeves in an attempt to get your attention as you refuse to look at him; shrugging him off, you hear him groan behind you. 

“You never let me help in the kitchen,” he protests, and it takes all the strength within you to not turn around and smack him. 

“If you arrived an hour earlier, you would’ve,” you hiss, waving him off, you walk past him as he opens his mouth to protest more, “get to work.” 

His mumbles and whines still reach your ears as he exits the kitchen— and it only takes one sharp glare from you to shut him up. For the rest of your shift, all you can think is how spoiled this boy remains— he doesn’t know how lucky he is, watching as his mother finally grows soft on him, shooing him back to their home to rest as he meekly nods at her words, putting an act of weakness as he immediately leaves his position— but the smug smile he adorns as he hangs up his apron doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

Sighing, you glance back at the clock— two more hours, then you close. 

⊹⊹⊹

“You’re still here?” 

You refuse to respond to that— instead, you grit your teeth, scrubbing at a stain on the bar as you continue to pre-close. Beomgyu sighs, sitting at the bar as he leans on the counter, seemingly paying no mind to the damp wood that comes in contact with his sleeves. He’s desperate to get your attention, calling your name out softly as you continue to ignore him. 

“Are you closing today? Why is it just you?”

“Sent everyone home. They helped enough.”

If the place remained as empty as it is now, the only thing you would need to do is clean the floors and machines— which takes little to no effort for you. Beomgyu shakes his head at your words, sitting up straight as he folds his hands in his lap. 

“I’ll help,” his words are immediately met with a scoff from you, his brows furrowing as he watches you shake your head in amusement— you only laugh more as he softly questions why you’re laughing. 

“Help?” You say, tilting your head as you finally look at him. Throwing the wet towel on the counter, you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you take a step back. 

“I asked for your help— three hours ago. Yet you still chose to be a brat and go back upstairs the moment your mother pitied you. You—“ cutting yourself off, you sigh, shaking your head before you’re picking the wet towel back off, turning your back to him, “I hope you realize how much she spoils you.” 

A twinge of embarrassment threatens to consume you due to your outburst, for the silence that follows after is entirely unexpected— usually, Beomgyu never knows when to shut his mouth. Then again, he never really knew what to say when the topic of his parent arose; he was afraid of saying something insensitive to you, you suppose. 

Yet you refuse to be the one to cave in— you refuse to even make eye contact with him, walking out of the kitchen area as you go to wipe down tables; it’s then that the small bell above the restaurant door rings. 

Mentally, you sigh— there was less than an hour left; nevertheless, you plaster on a cheery smile, straightening as you glance behind you and to the new customer; stiffening, you wince as you try to not let your surprise show through.

“Welcome,” you grit out, meeting eyes with the same man Beomgyu had beaten to a pulp a couple of hours ago— yet he seems perfectly fine, patched up and unphased as he sends you a somber nod, your worries that he’d be another bitter fighter that tracked Beomgyu down dispelled.

“You—!” Beomgyu is back to his awfully rambunctious self in a split second, twisted around in his seat as he sends the man by the entrance a sour look. “I told you not to come here!” 

Taehyun pays no mind to the dirty looks Beomgyu sends him— if anything, he smiles, ever so casual in his demeanor as he goes to sit down; next to Beomgyu, of course. 

“This place any good?” He asks, his voice gruff as he leans into Beomgyu cheekily, “you seem really eager to keep it hidden.” 

“You kidding? You’re at the hottest spot in town,” Beomgyu scoffs, puffing his chest out as he leers at Taehyun “I doubt you’ve never heard of this place.”

Their conversation becomes nothing but a muffled mess to you. Their tension is unending as they converse, their eyes filled with a fire that suggests that they might just forget about the food and fight here and now— which is why you step in, not wanting to clean up after any more messes as you take Taehyun’s order. 

At some point, you find yourself tuning back into their conversation— their rivalry is ridiculous, the tension rolling off in waves as you take a breath; Turning around, you go to place Taehyun’s order in front of him, reluctant to meet his eyes as you go to leave. 

“Hope I didn’t scare you off today,” Beomgyu goads, ever the instigator as he rests his chin in his hand cheekily, “but then again, you did ask for it.” 

Taehyun scoffs— it’s enough for you to turn back around, watching from afar in fear that Beomgyu will try to take things too far. 

“Don’t act like you left the ring all perfect,” Taehyun tilts his head, brows furrowing as he inspects Beomgyu, “Remind me, who was it that won?” 

You bite back a laugh at that, surprised to hear the results of the fight— it’s easy to do when Beomgyu is sitting up, a clear fire lighting in his eyes as he leans closer to Taehyun; his food remains untouched. You’re tense, watching carefully and waiting for a switch to flip inside Beomgyu; the last thing you want is for his mother to come down and find him in the middle of another fight. 

Instead, Beomgyu smiles; it’s a small twitch of his lips at first, his mind clearly telling him to fight it off before it overtakes him, a bewildered laugh escaping him before he’s clapping Taehyun on the shoulder, the action so rough and sudden that Taehyun is flinching from his touch. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, lost in his thoughts as he continues to laugh— you’re unsure if he’s getting ready to throw a punch or not. 

“You…” Beomgyu grins, letting go of Taehyun with a sigh. He shakes his head, huffing in amusement before he continues, “I like you, you’ve got ambition.”

“The ring’s closed tomorrow, but it’s available for training. I’ve been needing a new sparring partner,” Beomgyu trails off, and Taehyun is quick to catch on as he frowns.

“Tomorrow?” Beomgyu nods in confirmation. It’s silent, and you’re making your way back to them as Taehyun seems to ponder it. 

“You won’t be free tomorrow Beomgyu,” you say, grabbing his attention as you send him a warning smile, “You’re helping with a catering order, remember?”

Beomgyu, shameless like always, only tilts his head in innocence. 

“Really? I don’t recall you telling me about it,” Beomgyu ponders, pouting slightly as you glare at him, “plus, I was told you would be fully staffed tomorrow— if anything, I remember my mother suggesting you give some people a day off.”

You have no patience to deal with his sly ways— your jaw clenches as you suppress the urge to jump at him from across the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you raise a brow in disbelief. 

“If you need help, you could always keep those people on standby,” you’re unsure of what annoys you more— Beomgyu’s smug look, or Taehyun, who has finally decided to eat his food as he watches the two of you, clearly amused by what’s happening before him as he doesn’t even attempt to hide his smile.

“Good idea,” you grit out, leaning toward the younger man as you smile, “I should let your mother know you’ll be out tomorrow then; I’m sure she’ll be wondering where you went off to.”

“You know, for a mere worker, you sure are involved in our personal lives.” Beomgyu’s words are hissed out and sting like acid as your eyes widen, gritting your teeth together as you watch Beomgyu sit back in realization— as though he didn’t know what he said until now. 

“You’re right. Sorry,” you say, a gritted smile on your face as you go to fetch a takeout container; returning, you place it in front of Taehyun, ignoring his curious gaze as you send him a patient smile. 

“We closed fifteen minutes ago; sorry, but you can take the food with you if you’d like— on me. I’ll be back, if you need anything let him know,” jerking your head to Beomgyu, you ignore his attempts to call your attention back to him as you bow politely, quick to excuse yourself to the bathroom in a weak attempt to soothe your hurt and anger. 

The restaurant is quiet save for the soft ticking of a clock that hangs above them; a sound of warning as Taehyun glances subtly at the man next to him— whether Beomgyu picks up on it or not is beyond him. He’s frowning, bottom lip chewed and tugged at as he stares at the doorway which you disappeared through, a hand running repeatedly through his hair as he lets out a soft curse. 

“What was that about?” Taehyun asks— whether or not he’s crossing a boundary, he’s unsure— but he does know that he truly doesn’t care enough to gauge the older man’s reaction. He’s quick to finish his food, surprised by the quality of it as he peeks at Beomgyu from the corner of his eye; watching the way Beomgyu seems to ponder whether or not to talk, inevitably giving in as he lets out a heavy sigh. 

“I fucked up. Said something I shouldn’t have,” standing up, Beomgyu slides the stool he sat on back in, shaking his head as he goes to turn off the blaring open sign— he’s quiet, lost in thought as he carries out the usual closing duties. 

“My offer is still open, by the way,” Beomgyu calls out, and before Taehyun can say anything, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I doubt she’ll wanna see me tomorrow.” 

Taehyun says nothing. Beomgyu doesn’t bother trying to convince him, muttering out a tired one p.m under his breath, unable to help the way his eyes travel back to the hallway you disappeared to now and then— it isn’t long before Taehyun is bidding goodbye, the offer left out in the open as Beomgyu is forced to sit with his own thoughts, ignoring the way his muscles ache or his wounds throb whenever he performs a certain task. 

It takes a while before you come back out— you refuse to look at Beomgyu as the two of you clean in silence, your face left blank and cold as Beomgyu fails to decipher what you might be thinking; even though he wishes nothing more than to take back what he said, he finds his words stuck in his throat every time he looks at you. 

You don’t bother saying goodbye when you leave.

⊹⊹⊹

“Were you lying when you said you’ve been in the cage before?” 

Taehyun rolls his eyes at the older man's words, a scoff escaping him as he chooses not to answer. Beomgyu watches with amusement as the man before him looks away, neck tilting side to side as he feels it crack with ease. The air is hot and there isn’t much light coming in from the small windows atop the room, cracked open to let the cool wintry air inside. Yet it doesn’t seem to help a lot, the two men in the cage weathered down and sweaty from hours of sparring. 

“You’re quite annoying, you know,” Taehyun grumbles, wiping away his sweat before he begins to stretch, preparing for another round as he looks back to Beomgyu— he seems unfazed by his comment, a smug grin overtaking him as he mimics his stretching.

“So I’ve been told,” Beomgyu pouts, straightening up as he waits for Taehyun to approach, “how long have you been doing this?” 

Beomgyu has his own guesses as Taehyun throws a careless jab— he’s tired, not putting any effort into his movements as he dodges Beomgyu’s own hits with ease. 

“Little over two years. It’s been nothing but a hobby until recently though,” Taehyun admits, stepping back as he puts his arms down, “didn’t know this place was a thing.” 

“It’s been running for four years, actually,” Beomgyu says, sighing as he lowers his guard as well; he takes this time to rest, feeling the way his body is beginning to ache from the activity, “Jin and a couple others started it for fun. It’s only recently that things turned serious.”

Taehyun thinks of the referee— and his clear bias with Beomgyu— and frowns, realizing that the very same man he met yesterday was the owner of the building. Shaking his head, he sighs— then jumps back at the unexpected jab Beomgyu sends to him in warning. 

He has no time to complain; his arms immediately come up for defense as Beomgyu seems to have regained his energy, a mischievous smile plastered on his face as he lands a hook on Taehyun— he groans at the feeling, stumbling back as he attempts to regain his composure. 

Before he can regain stability, he’s pulled into another clinch— Beomgyu’s got him good, unable to keep his balance as Beomgyu pulls him into a tight chokehold; He’s trapped, unable to get away as he’s forced to tap out. 

“You know, I’ve noticed quite a few things about the way you fight,” Beomgyu says, ignoring the way Taehyun gives him a pointed glare, “you give all your energy in the first round— you need to be able to conserve your energy, you know.”

Though all Taehyun does is roll his eyes, he secretly takes note of the older man’s comment; he noticed Beomgyu had been giving him pointers the entire time, and he would be a fool to not take advice from the club’s toughest fighter— Taehyun’s pride could only stretch so far. 

Silently, they decide to take a break; there was no use in practicing if neither of them had the energy to throw a proper punch. Exiting the cage, Taehyun lets out a groan as he immediately takes a seat at one of the benches before him— annoyingly, his water bottle is empty again, and he’s forced to trudge to the only water fountain in the building that’s been placed all the way by the entrance; he grimaces at the thought of having to drink water from such a rusty old thing, but the dehydrated scratch of his throat isn’t giving him much of an option. 

Taehyun isn’t too phased when the doors slam open; there have been a few other fighters that have come in while they were sparring, so he figures this must be another regular as he keeps his eyes on the water fountain— it isn’t until he hears haste footsteps and lows cursing that he looks up in curiosity. 

“Of course he would be here,” you’re as irritated as always as you push past Taehyun without much more of a glance, your brows knitted together in annoyance as you make a beeline to the cage— Taehyun gets the privilege of getting front seats to the scene as he leans back in amusement, taking a sip of his cool water before grimacing at the taste. 

“Hey!” You yell, jumping up on the outskirts of the cage and glaring at Beomgyu, who has the audacity to look up at you with puppy eyes as he lays spread out in the center of the ring, “do you always have to be here? Why don’t you go do normal things for once?” 

Taehyun can hear you grumbling something about the long drive and shady district, but it’s left an unintelligible mess as he watches Beomgyu sit up, wincing slightly in the process. 

“You knew I was gonna be here,” is all he says, ticking his head side to side as loud cracks ring throughout the empty building, “plus you’re acting like you couldn’t have called.”

You can’t seem to control the bewildered laugh that escapes you at his words, eyes widening as you jump back down from your place; crossing your arms, you sit down at a bench, jaw clenched as you shoot Beomgyu a lethal glare. 

“You think I didn’t try?” You ask, crossing your legs as you tap at your bicep in annoyance, “your phone is always in the damn locker room!”

“Alright, whatever!” Beomgyu says, throwing his hands up in defeat, “what do you need now.”

“Two of our workers called off. Your mother wants you to come back and help with the catering order,” you say, your gaze cold as you watch Beomgyu begin to whine at you, giving you excuses that you don’t bother to listen to as you shake your head. 

“Listen to your mother and go. Quick,” you say, not wanting to linger any longer as you stand up, leaving without so much as a goodbye as you’re rushing back out again. 

“Yeah, listen to your mother,” Taehyun teases, raising a brow as you snap your head towards him, delivering a cold glare that only makes Taehyun grin, much to your annoyance; he can hear you muttering curses under your breath as you slam the doors open, the sound of your rambling only amusing Taehyun further as he makes his way back to Beomgyu. 

“Crazy how you let yourself get pushed around like that,” Taehyun knows he’s only instigating, but it’s amusing to watch the older man get worked up as he simply huffs in annoyance, cursing under his breath in the same manner you did— he can see where Beomgyu gets his short temper from. 

“I don’t.” he snaps, but the way he’s already beginning to pack up says otherwise; there’s defeat in all his actions as he becomes sluggish, trudging to the locker room where he reluctantly begins to change, “come back here tomorrow, same time— I need to show you something.” 

Beomgyu leaves shortly afterward— the annoyance in his mood has yet to go away as he glances back at the ring one last time, watching solemnly as Taehyun continues to shadow box without him. For a second, he almost considers dropping his responsibilities and going for another round, but your fiery and threatening voice echoes in his head, allowing him to finally leave as a shiver goes through his body. 

⊹⊹⊹

“Stupid workers… making me clean up after their mess…” Beomgyu thinks he might go insane if he has to pack another to-go tray filled with the same order, his mind fried and his hands on auto-pilot as he watches you busily cook out of the corner of his eye. You’re as stone-cold and intimidating as always, sending Beomgyu a sharp glare every time you catch him slacking off— it’s eerie, the way you can almost sense it, never giving Beomgyu a break as you stress the fact that you need to have the order done by the next thirty minutes. 

He’s almost done, so he doesn’t feel as rushed as you do— then again, you may just be on edge due to the fact that you’ve been pulling the weight of the two workers that called off as well as your regular tasks; the sight is enough to have Beomgyu irritated once more. 

You work way too hard for your own good; it’s a fact that Beomgyu always calls you out on, but you’re always just as quick to dismiss it as you shake your head in denial, telling him that he’s overreacting. Yet, as he watches you now, stressed and irritated, he can practically feel himself biting his tongue to prevent calling you out on it. 

The catering order is finished with ease; Beomgyu can feel a weight lift off him the moment a delivery person takes the order from him— the same can be said for you— and he’s almost ready to leave when his eyes catch sight of a new patron that walks in. 

The place has calmed down a bit, so it’s relatively empty— meaning, there should be no reason for Beomgyu to linger around anymore. Yet, he can’t help but be nosy and stay as he watches Jungkook beeline towards you, confident and handsome as always as he sends you a beaming smile.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” you remark sarcastically, leaning against the bar counter as you match Jungkook’s mischievous grin, “the usual?” 

“You know me so well,” Jungkook coos, and the exchange is enough to have Beomgyu straightening up— he’s never seen Jungkook at the restaurant before, let alone the two of you talking so casually to each other. 

Neither of you seem to catch Beomgyu’s analytic stare, much too caught up in your own world to notice anything around you; even the new customer that comes in through the door, trudging over to the bar as he sits a few seats away from Jungkook— Beomgyu is the first to notice as he quickly makes his way over.

“The hell are you doing here?” 

The smile Taehyun sends is pure evil as he leans on the bar, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he raises a brow at Beomgyu’s pointed question. 

“Here to eat, what else?” Beomgyu says nothing in response, his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed as he takes Taehyun’s order, “and if you’re done eavesdropping on their conversations over there, I’d like to know what you were talking about earlier— I’m not exactly free tomorrow.”

The man’s words are enough to have Beomgyu standing straight, sending Taehyun a glare as he grits his teeth at the comment. “Am not.” 

“Come on, be slick about it at least,” Taehyun sighs, eyeing the two of you from the corner of his eye, watching as you continue to converse with the customer— it takes a moment, but Taehyun is able to recognize the patron as he looks back at Beomgyu, pointing their way as he asks, “the hell is the bartender from the club doing here?” 

“That’s Jungkook,” Beomgyu mutters, putting his notepad away as stops to watch the two of you carefully for a second, “and that’s what I’m wondering myself. It’s clearly not to eat.” 

“Yeah, who gives a fuck,” Taehyun grumbles, watching as Beomgyu reaches in his pocket for a piece of paper— pausing, he takes a second to examine Beomgyu, biting his lip as he fights back a smile, “hey, you jealous?” 

“Shut up,” Beomgyu groans, rolling his eyes as he turns his back to you, jaw clenched as he narrows his eyes at Taehyun, who’s only left smiling in return, “she’s basically family, don’t even assume shit.” 

“Not what you said last time I was here,” Taehyun’s words have Beomgyu pausing entirely, forced to take a second to breathe as he takes in the younger man before him. 

“You’re an instigating little bitch, huh?” Is all Beomgyu can utter, watching as Taehyun simply laughs at his words, clearly unaffected by Beomgyu’s anger, “you better keep your mouth shut if you wanna stay in here.” 

“Alright, do your thing,” Taehyun sighs, putting his hands up in defeat. A moment passes, and Taehyun huffs out a laugh, his eyes falling to the piece of paper Beomgyu pushes forward before he continues, “This better be good.” 

Beomgyu watches as Taehyun begins to scan the paper, turning away so he can put the younger’s order in as he does. Once finished, he pauses, leaning against the wall as he waits for Taehyun to finish—Taehyun can practically feel the said man’s stare burn into his skin as he reads the information carefully, eyes widening as takes it all in; looking up, he finds Beomgyu’s eyes effortlessly.

Folding the paper back up carefully, Beomgyu makes his way back over, surprised you haven’t swooped in and asked what’s going on yet; hurriedly, he gets tries to get his point across, leaning in close to Taehyun and sending him an excited smile as he watches Taehyun open his mouth to ask questions immediately.

“How did you find this?” He asks, searching Beomgyu’s eyes as he watches the older man take the flier back, running his fingers over the creases in an absentminded attempt to smooth them out, “who gave you this?” 

“Old friend of mine.” Beomgyu says, leaning back as he watches Taehyun do the same, crossing his arms as he watches Beomgyu with scrutinized eyes, “thought you’d be interested in this.” 

“You’re inviting me? Letting me in on this?” Taehyun asks, frown only deepening as Beomgyu nods innocently, “what makes you think I won’t just win the tournament and take the prize money for myself?” 

“That is a possibility,” Beomgyu hums, “but that’s also what makes it fun.” 

“The hell is this? FightX?” Beomgyu can’t help the way he jumps as you appear behind him, looking over him as you reach to grab the flier from his hands. Beomgyu, in a weak attempt to distract you, attempts to call Jungkook over, trying to snatch the flier back while doing so; his attempts fail miserably as he watches the way your eyes grow wide.

“Are you kidding me?” You say, taking the flier and tucking it away in your own pocket smoothly. Beomgyu only sighs, used to your antics as Taehyun can only watch with an amused look in his eyes, ever as eager to poke the bear as he finds your anger intriguing. 

“Beomgyu, I swear to god that if I see or hear anything about you in that FightX club, I’ll kill you myself.” Your hands are tense as you cross them over your chest, giving Beomgyu a pointed glare as you continue, “I don’t care about you going to Seokjin’s little place— but if you even try to go to that tournament—” 

“Hey, relax, won’t you? You wouldn’t even know what goes on in a place like that,” Taehyun’s words are enough to have your eyes widening, mouth parting in surprise as you slowly turn to the man; beside you, Beomgyu shakes his head in warning, sending Taehyun a warning glare as he mouths the words shut the fuck up. 

“What did you just say to me?” You ask incredually, leaning forward and against the counter as you examine Taehyun carefully; the man is nothing more than amused as he smiles innocently at you, standing his ground as he tilts his head like a puppy, “who are you, anyway?” 

“Someone who knows way more about what goes on in that club than you,” he says softly, a tired tsk leaving him as he takes in the twitch of your brows, watching the way you try to keep your expression neutral, “you don’t need to worry about what Beomgyu does in his personal time.”

You’re left speechless as you press your tongue against your cheek, huffing out a bewildered laugh as you take a step back; glancing at Beomgyu, you narrow your eyes at him, watching as he simply attempts to diffuse the situation with stuttered excuses and a nervous laugh, his behavior changing drastically under your heated gaze.

“I warned you.” is all you say, not bothering to regard Taehyun at all as glare at Beomgyu, turning on your heel as you hear a coworker call your name for your help. 

“What the hell man?” Beomgyu whispers, turning to Taehyun with wide eyes; the man simply shrugs, unphased by the tension as he sighs tiredly. Mind muddled with everything that just happened, he’s quick to find himself untying his apron; he’s done what you’ve asked, and he doubts that you’ll be able to force him to stick around now— especially after the confrontation you just had. 

“FightX? Yo, you’re not planning on going, are you?” Jungkook is slow to the scene as he takes a seat next to Taehyun, recognizing him as the new fighter from a while ago as he nods to him in greeting; turning to Beomgyu, he raises a brow as he waits for him to respond. 

“I don’t know. The prize money’s no joke,” Beomgyu admits, holding onto his apron as he narrows his eyes at Jungkook, who’s only shaking his head in dismay. 

“The prize money is like that for a good reason,” Jungkook warns, nudging Taehyun as he tells him to listen as well, “that place is dangerous. Both the fighters and the patrons are something else, and if you don’t have connections to the right people…” 

The way Jungkook trails off is enough to give the two younger men a gist of what he means, the troubled look in his eyes disappearing as he watches you pass by— his signature smile is back as he pats Taehyun on the back, sending Beomgyu a look before he’s standing up, ready to go to where you’re at now.

“Use your brain for once and think this one through, yeah? And you,” Jungkook says, nudging Taehyun before he leaves, “stop putting our most valuable asset in danger.”

The way Jungkook goes to you is reminiscent of a puppy, the two men watching as he goes back to shamelessly flirt with you— you seem unphased, rolling your eyes as you try to hide your smile of amusement all the while.

“Think this through,” Taehyun chimes in, bringing Beomgyu’s attention back to him, “you seem to have connections— plus, I think it’d be fun.”

The offer becomes more tempting as Beomgyu recalls the prize money that comes along with the win, and Beomgyu is left with more uncertainty than expected as he thinks back to the warnings that came along with it. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu hasn’t been home today.

He’s never home, really, so the fact should be no surprise to you. But there’s something about today that leaves you on edge, your leg bouncing under the table as you hide your unease with a shaky smile. 

“You’re such a hard worker,” Beomgyu’s mother sighs, pouring you a cup of coffee as she makes her way back to where you sit at the dinner table, “I can’t thank you enough for what you do.” 

“I should be the one thanking you,” you say, taking the warm mug from her, trying to hide your shaking hands as you cup the dish tightly, “For giving me this opportunity. For giving me a home.” 

The Choi family was the only reason you were still alive and healthy; if it weren’t for them, you’d probably still be on the streets, dependent on the money that came from shady clubs filled with dangerous people.

That was the only reason you met Beomgyu— you had just finished a fight of your own as you stumbled out of the infirmary, barely patched up as they began the men’s lightweight division fights; you only wanted to stay and bet on the fight before you before you left with the rest of your earnings, curious as to how the match before you would end. 

To say the crowd loved it was an understatement; they were sick people, and the moment they realized that one of the most experienced lightweight fighters was currently pitted against a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy, the betting pool practically tripled within seconds. 

You‘ve never seen him before; it was clear to you that he was new within seconds of watching him in the cage, from his unsure missteps, to the way his arms didn’t come down from his head for a second, wide eyes watching carefully for any opening available. 

He got beat and knocked out within minutes; the match had been more of a joke to those watching than an actual fight. His injuries were nothing to laugh at however, the cage floor littered with his blood as nurses rushed out of the infirmary for him, picking him up and carrying him away as the patrons around you remained unphased at the sight— you still remember wincing as you took in the state his opponent left him in. 

It was a general consensus within the ring that those more experienced shouldn’t be too harsh on newbies— simply out of respect for one’s opponent. But respect didn’t exist in such a place— if anything, respect wasn’t even earned after countless grueling matches in a place like FightX; it didn’t matter if you were good, the only thing that mattered was the number of wins under your belt and how much cash you walked out of the place with— which is why the patrons of such a club knew better than to mess with you. 

This was no place for a child, you remembered thinking to yourself, scoffing at the way people continued to berate and talk about the loser of the previous match. Rolling your eyes, you figured it was better to leave now than to stick around and have shady people try to strike up deals with you— wanting to become your manager, to move you further up the ladder, to share profits with you. 

It usually wasn’t a problem for you to leave; if anything, regulars knew better than to get in your way after you’ve had your fill of fights— but it had been different that day, left to push your way through as a commotion began to form at the entrance. 

“Woah, who the hell is this?” The speakers above you were booming with the commentator’s sneering remarks, the current fight before them no longer a priority as the screams of a woman tore through the crowd. 

“Please, please tell me he’s here,” the ruckus was beginning to become more of a headache to you than anything, pushing through the heaps of people in an attempt to get past the dramatic scene and back home— “home” consisting of a random motel that was cheap enough for this week’s earnings— only to pause once you were able to take in the woman’s helpless state. 

This was someone’s mother, you realize, raising a brow as you take in the way her eyes are wide with fear and worry, brimming with tears as she attempts to put on a brave front. The mocking commentary of the men continue to boom over the speakers as those around the older woman ignore her or tell her to get lost, not bothering to listen to her words as they immediately turned their backs to her. 

The boy’s mother. You realize, taking a deep breath before you walk toward the woman, grabbing onto her bicep tightly in order to gain her attention. She seemed more than ready to brush off your grip and fight to stay, but upon taking in your solemn appearance, she paused, her mouth parting as she no-doubt became ready to ask the same question she had been asking everyone else.

“Your son is over here,” you sigh out, tugging her along wordlessly— at your claim, she quickly follows, asking endless questions that you can’t even seem to keep up with. 

“Tall, scrawny, long hair?” You ask, glancing back at her to catch her nodding incredually, “around sixteen?” 

Once again, she nods, her gesture only making you sigh once more as you ignore the pressing stares of those around you. 

“Yeah, he’s this way,” you say, finally arriving at the infirmary as you’re left to scan all the cots around you; his mother seems to spot him first, exclaiming loudly before she leaves your side to run to him. 

The sight is enough to have you clenching your jaw as you lean against the doorway, arms crossed defensively over your chest as you watch the boy’s mother cry and scold the barely conscious boy. It was clear she cared for him, and the sight was foreign to you as you found yourself frozen in one place, forcing yourself to spectate a scene that you knew you’d never experience for yourself. 

You stuck around to help the woman take her son home, listening quietly as she turned to scold the boy, huffing once in a while as she observed the way you effortlessly helped him walk with an arm thrown over your shoulder— the patrons around you were wise enough to keep their comments to themselves as they flinched at the hard glares you gave them. 

“Don’t come back here kid,” you remembered telling him, dropping him in the passenger’s seat of his mothers car, rolling your eyes as he incoherently attempted to argue with you, “this place is too dangerous for someone like you.” 

“And you?” His mother’s words had been enough to snap you out of your dazed state; looking up, you had been surprised to see his mother staring at you with the same concern in her gaze, her head tilting as she scanned your bruised skin and tired face, “will you be alright here?” 

Her concern had been unexpected— so much so that you couldn’t help the way you laughed softly at her words, shaking your head as you ignored the strangely warm feeling that bloomed within you from her concern. 

“I know how to handle myself here,” you told her, jaw clenching as you watched the way she remained unconvinced. Slowly, you watched her reach in her jacket pockets, fishing around for something until she finally found it, a small ah, escaping her mouth before she finally offered you the object with polite hands; you stared at the business card she handed you, unsure of what to do until you finally accepted it after a pause. 

“Thank you so much for your help today,” she says, bowing gratefully as she looks at you with a kind smile, “if you’re ever hungry, you can always stop by. On the house.” 

The laminated card feels smooth under your fingers as you absentmindedly accept her offer, unsure of how to react to her kindness as she thanks you again; you try to ignore the way her eyes are coated with concern and pity, the emotions within you nothing but bitter as you watch her drive away. 

Shoving her card into your jacket pocket, you sigh, turning on your heels and walking back to the cheap motel that you knew was too shady to stay at for too long. If you win another match tomorrow, you might be able to stay at the better motel just a few blocks over. 

The thought was promising as you made your way back, your muscles aching and your stomach growling as you inevitably thought back to the free meal that boy’s mother promised you. 

Maybe tomorrow, you thought, pulling the card back out of your pocket to examine it, you should treat yourself after tomorrow’s fight. 

⊹⊹⊹

Your life had taken a surprising turn after that day— now you found yourself here, sitting in the home of the Choi family, welcomed as always and reformed of your ways of fighting— you only wish the same could be said for Beomgyu. 

“So,” you say, clearing your throat as you try to get the nerves out of your tone, “Where’s Beomgyu at?” 

“Oh,” she sighs, slumping down in the chair across from you as she takes a sip from her cup of coffee, “God, I don’t even know— he left really early today, didn’t even bother to let me know— he hasn’t been back since.” 

The news was odd to you; it was late already, but Beomgyu wasn’t the type to be up in the mornings, much less make any plans. You took a second to process her words, nodding absentmindedly as you took another sip from your drink— the flier you took from him seems to be weighing your pocket down now more than ever. 

He wouldn’t, the more forgiving part of you thought, he knows better than to go off to a place like that. 

But the more skeptical part of you knew better; Beomgyu was always one to be swayed easily, and with that new sparring partner of his, your trust in him only seemed to dwindle more and more. 

Taehyun had only proved himself to be a danger to Beomgyu— especially if he was so eager to get himself into a place like FightX. 

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the sound of a phone ringing echoed throughout the room; blinking wildly, you allow Ms. Choi to excuse herself as she leaves to answer the phone— you take this chance to take the flier out of your pocket, unfolding it carefully as your fingers smooth over the wrinkles. 

Reading it carefully, your eyes widen, biting at your lip as you feel your heart beginning to beat faster.

It was tonight.

And it started two hours ago. 

You don’t give much of an explanation to Ms. Choi as you’re standing abruptly, making your way to where she stands at the kitchen to say goodbye— you can see the confusion and concern swim in her eyes at your suddenness, but you hope that the bright, carefree smile you send her is enough to soothe her as you apologize for leaving early. 

It’s scary how easy it is for you to make your way to that club— despite it being years since you last stepped inside, you can still feel instinct take over as you’re speeding off to the tournament. 

If Beomgyu’s still alive by the time you get there, you’ll kill him yourself. 

Clenching your jaw, you pray that there are no cops around as you speed through the empty streets, your only priority clouding your mind as you run past a few red lights. 

And his little friend too. 

⊹⊹⊹ 

Beomgyu’s body feels like it’s been set alight with anxiety. 

He’s pacing around the locker room, attempting to control his breathing as he focuses on his next opponent; on his fighting style, on how to beat him. 

He’s been in this position many times— it’s like second nature to him, only the new setting seems to be affecting him more than he expected. It’s not like he’s never branched out to other underground fighting tournaments before; he’s been all around the city and even outside of it, trusting Seokjin’s judgment as he made a name for himself through it— in a way, Seokjin had almost been like a manager to him.  

But he hasn’t been here in years; six years, to be exact. He can still feel the danger that looms through these walls, feeling more trapped than anything as memories of his first match come to mind— a primal fear is prominent in every single one. 

Beomgyu is much more different than he was six years ago— both in muscle and mentality, he knows how to handle himself in such a shady place. Yet, he can’t help but remember your warnings, his brows furrowing as he feels his heart pound a little harder against his chest. 

“You overthinking things again?” Beomgyu’s spiraling train of thought is interrupted as he snaps his head over to the doorway, meeting eyes with Taehyun who sports a bright smile, much more relaxed and excited than he is.

“Can’t help it,” Beomgyu admits, sighing heavily as he turns to stretch instead, “new territory.”

“Thought you had connections to this place?” Taehyun asks, tilting his head as he listens to Beomgyu explain that while it is true, he still isn’t experienced with this club. 

“Don’t think about it too much,” Taehyun says, making his way over as he sits at the bench near Beomgyu, “the bracket looks easy today.” 

The plan was simple; make it to the end of the bracket, where Beomgyu and Taehyun would inevitably have to fight each other— the earnings would be split between the two after.

Just makes the odds of earning the prize money higher, Beomgyu had explained once Taehyun began questioning his motives, that way, both of us win, and get experience out of it.  

The prize money was already so grand that even half of it seemed more than enough for Beomgyu— and of course, the thought of returning to such a place and finally winning a grand tournament was thrilling to Beomgyu. 

The things he could do with the prize money were endless— he already had a few ideas in mind, thinking back to his hardworking mother and how much she struggled to raise him on her own while still managing her restaurant. Then he thought about you, of the hard times he gave you, knowing how much you feared him going through the same things you did, of turning to a life dependent on fighting and gambling. 

“Hey hey, focus,” Beomgyu is blinking rapidly as Taehyun claps in front of his face, laughing at the way the older man managed to zone out once more, “you’re up in three minutes, you should prepare yourself.” 

Beomgyu is nodding absentmindedly as he watches Taehyun exit, still feeling nerves creeping up his system as he wonders if this is all such a good idea; then his name is called, and the referee pops in to ask if he’s ready. 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu finds himself saying, feeling as though he’s lost control of his body as he’s walking out of the dimly lit locker room, “lets go.” 

⊹⊹⊹

“Hey, I know we haven’t talked in a while but— yeah, no need to remind me,” your voice is low and your footsteps are echoing as you walk through puddles, the smell of rain still lingering in the air as you weave your way through dark alley— the feeling is oddly reminiscent as you find yourself laughing along with your old friend on the phone.

“No, it’s serious stuff,” you sigh, turning the corner as you find the place you’ve been dreading to step inside of. A small shop meets you, the lights off and the gates closed around the windows— the unassuming shop makes your stomach churn with dread, approaching it slowly before you’re walking around its perimeter. 

“You’ll never guess where I’m back at right now— yup, the very one,” your friend’s incredulous laugh booms over the line as you let out some bitter chuckles yourself, rounding towards the back as you see a deep, ominous stairwell; faintly, you can hear the brutish screams and commentary leaking through, the sound only beginning to worsen as time passes; the sound has a deep sigh leaving you as you begin the long descend into the basement. 

“Listen, I need you and your men to be here on standby— I’m serious, you think I’d joke about this stuff?” You finally reach the bottom as you pause at the very last step, staring at the metal door that’s left at the end of the corridor. 

“Thanks. I’ll call you if I need you to come in,” you say, bidding your goodbye before you’re finally hanging up, tucking your phone in your back pocket before you’re taking a final, deep breath. 

Hopefully I won’t. You mutter, reaching forward before you’re finally opening the heavy, metal door. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu feels dizzy. 

The bracket looks easy today, Taehyun’s voice echoes in his head as he rests against the ring’s ropes, the layout different to what he’s used to as he takes a moment to recollect himself. 

Easy— the fuck was Taehyun talking about? Beomgyu feels left out as he watches his opponent talk with his coach, discussing strategies and glancing back at Beomgyu, who’s left on his own as he takes the opportunity to stretch. 

He just needed to beat the man across from him, then he was officially in the finals. The thought was the only thing that soothed him as he scanned the crowd for Taehyun, finally finding him right at the front; he was just as tired and beat as Beomgyu was, but the encouraging smile he sent Beomgyu managed to keep him on his feet a little longer— the prize money loomed over his head as he watched the referee call the next round, the fighter before Beomgyu gritting his teeth against his mouthpiece as his coach yelled at him to knock Beomgyu out. 

His opponent became predictable fairly quickly— Beomgyu’s arms came up to his head for defense as the man attempted to jab at him, only to slide down to his sides and squeeze as his opponent attempted to land a hook to his side; at his liver, to be exact. 

Chenle, Beomgyu remembers the commentators announce, his name was Chenle. 

He looked to be around his age, if not younger. The man before him was energetic and strong, but seemed to get too excited during the rounds; it seemed as though he only came into the ring with one tactic in mind, and remained persistent to knock his opponent out in one specific way— it seemed he targeted Beomgyu with liver shots. 

His punch was quite lethal— Beomgyu would know, because he fell victim to his attack in the first round. If anything, he still feels as though his mind is all muddled as he shifts away, avoiding the man’s attempt to get him cornered before he’s throwing a few quick punches himself. 

It doesn’t take long before Beomgyu is able to turn the match around, however. Chenle seems to be very poor in adapting to an opponent’s fighting style, and Beomgyu is quickly able to pull him into a chokehold that has him tapping out within seconds— without his hooks, Chenle was practically useless.

All this fighting had taken a toll on Beomgyu— he’s sure it showed as well, panting like a dog as the referee thrust his hand into the air, the commentators announcing him as the winner over the speakers: The Bear wins again. 

Beomgyu could see why you attempted to dissuade him from going to such a place as he takes in everyone’s reactions— the good, the bad, and the dangerous. From the corner of his eye, he can see Chenle stumbling back to his coach, the two clearly bitter and angry as they whisper plans to each other— Beomgyu shivers involuntarily as their glares land on him, his gut telling him that they’re up to no good as the referee finally lets go of his wrist, quick to exit the ring and get as far from them as possible. 

“Hey, we made it,” Taehyun grins, clapping Beomgyu on the shoulder as he laughs with joy— only to apologize as Beomgyu winces, his hand coming off in a second, “Our fight’s in thirty minutes, go rest and clean up— I don’t wanna have to go easy on you now.”

Absentmindedly, Beomgyu nods, ducking his head and making his way back to the locker room as he tries to ignore the stares of those around him— he can practically feel his body become alight with nerves by the time he’s back in the dark locker room, his heart pounding and his hands shaking as he begins to wonder if all your warnings have made him paranoid.  

It must be the adrenaline, he thinks to himself, undoing his hand wraps and wincing as he stretches his cramped muscles, yeah. adrenaline.  

He can’t help the way he groans as he makes his way to the bathroom area— all this fighting has taken a heavy toll on him, and he quickly finds that he’s already begun to sprout plenty of injuries and bruises as he finds his reflection in the mirror; his eyes remain downcast as he goes to wash his hands, sighing as the cool water splashes against his skin.

“I’m telling you, you were great!” Beomgyu can’t help but hear the conversation that begins to leak into the locker room, frowning at the way the second person begins to complain and yell angrily— the sound is enough to have Beomgyu on guard, straightening up slowly as he quickly turns the sink off. 

“No, I wasn’t great— I fucking lost!” He jumps at the sound of something striking hard against the lockers— Beomgyu can feel his stomach sink with dread as he realizes that it must be Chenle that walked in— he’s able to recognize his voice fairly quickly. 

“I know, I know— It’s odd, really, you weren’t supposed to have…” Beomgyu feels like he’s unable to breathe as the manager walks into sight, locking eyes with him through the reflection in an instant as he immediately stops talking; Chenle’s irritated what? Is enough to have Beomgyu snapping out of his daze, turning around as he watches the boy’s manager let out an exasperated laugh. 

“Hey,” Chenle begins, spotting Beomgyu as he quickly makes his way to him— Beomgyu remains silent, his eyes narrowed coldly as he tries to make a point that he’s not intimidated, “what the hell was that about back there?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beomgyu mutters, watching as Chenle scoffs, turning away for a second to compose himself. 

“The match,” Chenle clarifies, enunciating each syllable as though Beomgyu were incapable of understanding, “you were supposed to throw it.” 

The words are definitely news to Beomgyu; he’s sure it shows on his face, because Chenle only seems to grow angrier by the second, Beomgyu’s silence only irritating him more as he runs a stressed hand through his hair. 

“Don’t act fuckin stupid,” Chenle spits out, pushing Beomgyu’s chest and taking him by surprise as he stumbles back into the sink, “We had our deal. Give me back the money I gave you.” 

“You have the wrong person,” Beomgyu says slowly, attempting to remain calm as he briefly looks over Chenle’s shoulder, and at the exit behind the two; he had two options: fight— which Chenle seemed more than ready to do— or stay out of trouble and run. The second option seemed very tempting at the moment. 

“I didn’t make any deal with you.” 

This seems enough to set Chenle off, more than ready to throw a punch before he’s interrupted by his manager; the man’s sharp Chenle is enough to have the two men looking back, over to where his manager leans against the wall, arms crossed as he stares at Beomgyu carefully. 

“You,” the man says carefully, nodding at Beomgyu as he raises a brow questioningly, “what’s your name?”

“Beomgyu,” he replies gruffly, watching as the manager only becomes more confused by his response. 

“Who sent you here?”

“Hey man, what’s the hold up, our fight started two minutes ago and people are already calling a forfeit—“ Taehyun pauses at the sight of the scene before him, taking a second to compose himself before he’s sending a cold glare to Chenle’s manager, “what’re you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” the man replies, pushing himself off the wall before he’s shoving his hands into his pants pockets, “now that I think about it, you two weren’t on the original roster we agreed to.”  

“The hell are you talking about?” It’s clear that the situation has begun to annoy Taehyun, who remains unphased as the manager begins to walk towards him, “We were invited to the tournament.” 

“Oh yeah? By who?” The man asks quietly, tilting his head as he waits expectantly for Taehyun to answer. 

“Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu says, the name foreign to Taehyun’s ears as he gauges the men’s reactions, the two of them watching Beomgyu with a scrutinizing gaze— what he sees does nothing to soothe his nerves. 

“Choi Yeonjun?” It seems as though that was not the answer either of them were looking for, the older man beginning to walk towards Taehyun, cornering him against the wall as Beomgyu attempts to step in— the warning glare Chenle sends him has him stilling for a second.

“That little rat sent you two? He still has the courage to try and involve himself here?” Something isn’t right— Beomgyu feels as though his body is on fire, buzzing with adrenaline as he watches the man’s tone drop dangerously— he’s reaching towards his jacket, the sight alarming as Beomgyu decides to divert his attention before it’s too late. 

His attempt to take down Chenle works fairly easy— at least, that’s what Beomgyu thinks initially, able to take Chenle by surprise with a punch to the face before the boy is recovering; he’s more than ready to take back any of Chenle’s hits, only that’s not what the younger man seems to have in mind as he reaches into his jacket pocket instead.

Beomgyu isn’t given much time to react before Chenle is tackling him into the wall, his head banging harshly against it before he feels himself grow paralyzed with shock and pain— the knife Chenle drives into Beomgyu’s stomach is quickly plunged out, the younger man’s manager pulling him back with a scolding tsk and a harsh pull of his collar. 

“Shit,” he can hear Taehyun exclaim, running to Beomgyu’s side in an instant as he attempts to add pressure to the wound; Beomgyu is still in shock as he groans at the feeling, a shuddering breath escaping him as he watches his blood run down his skin and stain his shorts. 

“Chenle, let’s go,” the manager hisses, tugging Chenle along and hiding the weapon before either Beomgyu or Taehyun are able to process it.

Beomgyu feels as though he’s swimming underwater with how disoriented he feels, the quiet apologies Taehyun lets out over and over falling onto deaf ears as the noise outside only grows louder. 

“We need to take you to the hospital man, shit,” Taehyun says, doing his best to carry Beomgyu with him as they make their way out— he knows better than to try and trust anyone in this place to treat him. 

“What’s this?” Taehyun is already rolling his eyes at the sight of a new person blocking their path, more than ready to curse them out and push them out of the way before he realizes who it is; Choi Minho, the club owner, simply smiles down at them, inspecting the two men before him before his cold gaze stops upon Beomgyu. 

“Playing dirty already?” His lack of urgency has Taehyun’s stomach churning with dread, wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into as the owner of the club only stops to laugh at his own joke.

Taehyun’s guilt and fear for his friend seems to cloud his reasoning; without another thought, he’s pushing past Minho, trying to find his way over to the exit before he quickly realizes that he’s managed to bring all the attention to him. 

The crowd goes wild at the sight of Beomgyu’s injury; they’re crowding around the three, attempting to instigate a fight and bet money as their eyes light up with bloodlust— the sight has Taehyun shivering as he stumbles forward in uncertainty, avoiding a woman that attempts to grab out to Beomgyu in the process. 

The sight was terrifying; Minho could only watch in satisfaction behind them, crossing his arms in amusement as he watched Taehyun try to push through the packed crowds of people; his hold on Beomgyu was slipping, and he’s sure he’s left a trail of blood by now as his ears begin to ache, trying his best to ignore the catcalls and insults that are thrown at him; both to try and instigate and annoy him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Minho calls after them, following behind as people almost seem to clear a path for him; in turn, the people on the other end seem to grow bolder, blocking his path and eager to witness conflict as Taehyun begins to yell at them to move.

“We still need to discuss your connections to this place,” Minho says, his eyes darkening as he meets Taehyun’s heated gaze, “Choi Yeonjun, was it?”

It’s no use; the crowd is getting handsy, pushing Taehyun back towards Minho in order to see the drama unfold. Beomgyu can only cling tighter to Taehyun, groaning in pain as the adrenaline slowly begins to wear off. 

Choi Yeonjun, what the fuck did you do, Taehyun is practically ready to spit in Minho’s face from the anger that courses through him, but the fear that Beomgyu may bleed out on him keeps his senses on high alert as he tries to formulate a plan to escape. 

His chance to escape comes in the form of five gunshots that boom through the room— each causing more panic than the last, the people around him bigger cowards than they let on as they immediately fall to the floor or scramble for cover. 

Taehyun is startled but remains alert, his head whipping around and meeting the eyes of someone who was more than used to coming to unorthodox places to wrangle Beomgyu out of danger. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you angrier as you point a gun towards the ceiling, your jaw clenched and your face confronted into a nasty glare as rubble falls around you. 

“Get down,” you seethe, sweeping your gun through the area as you watch everyone cower at the sight, eyes pointed at those who try to get back up to escape, “I said get the fuck down!” 

The place seems to grow still the moment you put your finger back on the trigger, the startled yelps of those hiding the only thing that you can hear as you begin to walk forward; your gaze only darkens more at the sight of Beomgyu slumped in Taehyun’s arms. 

“___, so nice to see you back here,” Minho smiles, attempting to charm you with an innocent tilt of his head, “What brings you to this place?”

“Let them go, Minho,” you warn, raising your gun towards him as he simply puts his hands up in surrender— yet, the mischievous smile and his unphased body language tell you otherwise.

“And why should I?” He asks carefully, eyes flickering over to where Beomgyu barely remains standing, Taehyun attempting to put all his strength into stopping the blood flow of his wound, “They wronged me, and I simply want answers.” 

“Bullshit,” you spit out, jerking your arm as you bring your gun to aim at his head instead, “I have Agust and his men outside. Let them go if you know what’s good for you.” 

The sudden name seems to be enough for Minho to falter, his smile wavering for a second before he’s letting out a deep sigh; rolling his eyes, he takes a moment to think before he’s looking over to Taehyun and Beomgyu. 

“Go.” 

Taehyun doesn’t need to be told twice; he’s making his way over to you without hesitation, struggling to step over the cowering bodies as Beomgyu clings to him like a ragdoll— you’re immediately pulling the two behind you before you’re jerking your head back to the exit, walking backwards as you keep your gun aimed at Minho in warning. 

“You’ll be back soon,” Minho grins, his eyes alight with something mischievous and dangerous as he lets his arms down slowly, “just you wait.”

Your free hand reaches for the heavy metal door, your eyes narrowing at his words as he waits for you to say something; in response, you spit at him, slamming the door behind you before you’re ushering Taehyun to hurry up.

“I fucking told you, I can’t fucking believe this,” you mutter under your breath, shoving the gun in your back pocket before you’re taking Beomgyu from Taehyun, slinging his arm over your shoulder as you spot Taehyun staggering behind in exhaustion. 

“Hurry up before I leave your ass here!” You yell, now at the top of the stairs as you meet eyes with the one person you now owed your life to. 

“Shit, you really weren’t messing around,” Yoongi says, his eyes widening as he takes sight of the unconscious man you carry with you. With a snap, his men take him from your arms, carrying him over to the backseat of Yoongi’s car before he’s gesturing for you to get in, Taehyun following close behind.

“We need to get him to the hospital, now,” you stress, unsure of how much Beomgyu was bleeding out before you got there; from his pale sweaty skin and slow, shuddering breaths, you know it’s best to act fast and ask questions later. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” is all Yoongi says, gesturing towards his men as they all begin to scatter, more than ready to speed off into the streets as he yells at Taehyun to put pressure on Beomgyu’s wound.

Pressed against the seat, you can’t ignore the way your head aches and your eyes sting with the threat of tears, unsure of what you’ll tell Beomgyu’s mother the moment he gets checked in the hospital. 

Silently, you reach over to Yoongi, grabbing his hand as you let out a soft thank you. In turn, he squeezes your hand in reassurance, his foot pressing down on the gas pedal as he takes in the anxiety that rolls off you in waves. 

⊹⊹⊹

The hospital is cold and unwelcoming. 

You’re in the waiting room, unable to stop yourself from pacing as Yoongi remains by your side; Taehyun lingers nearby, his gaze downcast and glued to the floor from the moment Beomgyu was taken away by paramedics. 

Your fingers dig into your arms as you sigh for the upteenth time; your gaze falls on Taehyun, your jaw clenching as you take him in— his head is downcast and he remains hunched over in his seat, his elbows propped on his knees as he hangs his head. But even from there, your eyes are able to look over the way his clothes are drenched with blood, his knuckles turning white as he clasps his hands together tightly. 

“Excuse me, are you Choi Beomgyu’s guardian?” The three of you are quick to turn at the meek nurse that approaches you, her hands folded politely as you take initiative to step towards her; nodding, you watch as she sighs, her face unreadable under the medical mask she wears. 

“I’m sorry to inform you that Choi Beomgyu’s wound was quite severe, and he lost a significant amount of blood.” You can feel Yoongi grasp at your arm as you exhale slowly, feeling yourself become unstable as your mouth falls open in disbelief, “We were able to stop the bleeding, but we’ve noticed that his wound has shown signs of infection; due to this, his condition is still critical— He is currently in the intensive care unit, and we are doing everything we can to stabilize him; Unfortunately, only immediate family can visit at this time.”

She lingers for a moment as she waits for you to say something, but you’re only able to muster enough energy to nod politely, ripping your arm out of Yoongi’s grasp before you’re stumbling outside— the said man is hot on your trail as he keeps a close eye on you, his quiet presence enough reassurance that he’s there if you need him. 

Your hands are shaking horribly as you shove them in your pockets; your head hurts, and you feel sick to your stomach as you lean against the hospital walls, your head banging softly against the concrete wall as your pockets fish for something to distract you; Yoongi is quick to guess as he reaches into his own jacket, pulling out a cigarette and placing it in between your lips before he’s lighting it for you. 

“He’ll be okay,” Yoongi reassures you, watching with narrowed eyes as you take a slow drag from the cigarette, “he’s a strong kid— in good hands, too.”

“I know he’ll be okay,” you grit out, sighing softly as you watch the smoke escape from your lips and disappear into the night sky, “he has to be.”

Your worries don’t lie entirely on his health; his recovery will be slow and tedious, but you’ll do anything if it ensures Beomgyu’s safety— the problem, however, lies on how much it’ll cost to ensure his recovery. 

With the treatments and antibiotics the doctors were currently giving Beomgyu, you’re sure Ms. Choi would break down at the sight of the bill; running a restaurant on her own can only do so much, and you’re sure as hell not blind to the reasons as to why Beomgyu took up fighting in the first place, witness to the way he would leave his prize money before her in hopes that it would take care of the monthly bills. 

A prize from the tournament at FightX would’ve been enough to have Ms. Choi closing the restaurant for a while and going on vacation— Beomgyu’s motivations slowly start clicking together in your head as you scoff, taking another drag from the cigarette in your hand as you feel the way your head begins to ache; the last thing you’ll do is have Ms. Choi worry about the bills.

“His mother,” Yoongi starts softly, interrupting your thoughts as he practically reads your mind, “are you gonna tell her?”

You take a moment before you answer, watching as Yoongi leans against the wall next to you patiently; flicking the ashes off your cigarette, you bite your lip, frowning in frustration as you sigh slowly. 

“I have to,” you say, your mind already wracking for ways you could deliver the news to his mother, “she’s already worried enough as it is.”

Pulling your phone out, you turn it on to show Yoongi your screen; an onslaught of missed calls and text messages greet you, all from Beomgyu’s mother as you wince at the escalation of the contents— all of them asking if you’re alright, if you know where Beomgyu might have run off to. 

“She’s already onto me,” you laugh softly, though it feels more forced than anything as you watch your screen light up again, her contact name taking over the screen as you take a second to look at it; with one last drag from your cigarette, you exhale, accepting the call as you drop the item and grind it into the ground, wincing slightly as Ms. Choi’s alarmed voice fills your ears. 

“Yes Ms. Choi, I’ve found him.” You look beyond exhausted as Taehyun watches from afar, only able to hear your soft voice as you continue to reassure his mother— the guilt that was plaguing Taehyun’s mind only comes back stronger as he watches you deliver the awaited news tensely, the words awkward in your mouth as you visibly flinch— only to quickly tell Beomgyu’s mother that he’s safe and there’s nothing to worry about. 

“We’re still here. I’ll wait for you, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft and calming as you speak, a stark contrast to what Taehyun saw earlier— he shivers at the thought, eyes widening slightly as they meet yours— stiffening, he can’t help how tense he feels as you gesture for him to come to him. 

It’s silent as Taehyun walks to you; tucking your phone into your back pocket, your eyes narrow at the sight of Taehyun walking towards you, as though his tail were tucked in between his legs as he refuses to meet your gaze. The sight is enough to have you angered again as you cross your arms, pushing yourself off the wall as you dig your fingers into your biceps, teeth gritting as you attempt to keep your voice steady as you speak. 

“What the hell happened back there? How did this all start?” You ask, your gaze intense as Taehyun forces himself to meet it; you look beyond furious as you wait for him to respond, Yoongi surveying carefully over your shoulder, the sight oddly intimidating as Taehyun begins to recount everything that happened. 

“The match was rigged— you weren’t even supposed to be there,” you conclude, looking over your shoulder to see Yoongi agreeing, “who was invited there?” 

“It was me,” Taehyun says, not an ounce of hesitation in his answer as he watches your eyes widen at the news, “It was all my idea, I thought it’d give us a bigger chance to win the prize money— I… I was the one who got the invite.”

Taehyun isn’t entirely sure as to why he just took all the blame for Beomgyu; maybe it was his guilty conscience, or the way that he knew if he told the truth, Beomgyu would be in more trouble than he already was— yet a small part of him seems to regret it as he watches the way your eyes widen, unable to stop yourself as Taehyun’s head jerks to the side— his cheek stings at the impact of your palm, but he doesn’t find himself to be angered by it as he remains silent. 

“This— this is all your fault?” You say, incredulous as you begin to pace again— whether it’s to hold yourself back from hitting Taehyun again or to process everything, he isn’t sure— “Do you have any idea the shit you just got us involved in?”

From the way Taehyun stares at you, his brows furrowed in concern, it’s clear the answer is no.

“Do you know how much it’ll cost for Beomgyu’s treatment? He could���ve fucking died!” The fact that Beomgyu still stepped foot in the underground club despite knowing the dangers of it isn’t lost on you— if anything, it angers you more, feeling as though he took everything you told him and went through as a joke, teeth gritting together at the thought of it, “his mother can’t afford something like this, do you realize how terrified she is to hear her son is in the ICU?”

“The money from the tournament,” Taehyun interrupts, watching the way you pause in your steps before he continues, “we can just use that— it’s more than enough.”

You remain silent— all you can do is stare at Taehyun for a second, eyes narrowing at him before you shake your head; bitterly, you smile, tilting your head as you cross your arms defensively once more. 

“Did you finish the tournament?” You ask, watching as Taehyun slowly shakes his head, “did you win?”

“No— it was just me and Beomgyu left anyway—”

“Did you win?” You repeat, your voice much more stern as you take a step closer to Taehyun; he can feel his heart sinking as he takes in your close proximity, your expression serious as he feels the realization dawn on him as well, “did you stay in the cage, did you hear them announce you as the winner?”

You both know the answer to your question; Taehyun’s voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks. 

“No.”

“No,” you echo, hands falling to your sides, the burst of emotions from earlier taking a toll on you and leaving your voice quiet and tired as you continue, “They might as well call it a forfeit from your part.”

“The prize money is still their’s, and they’ll even hold another tournament while they’re at it.”

Backing away, you glance at Yoongi before gesturing for him to give you another cigarette; the lighter is the only thing that illuminates your face for a second, your eyes tired and angry as they flicker back up to meet Taehyun’s.

“Unless you want to go back and win it, you’re no use here.”

You refuse to talk to Taehyun any further as you turn your back to him; the smoke that escapes from your figure is oddly soothing as Taehyun lingers by your side, lost in thought as he leans against the wall; feeling a set of eyes searing into his skin, he looks up, meeting Yoongi’s curious gaze, watching as he tilts his head before he finally speaks to the younger man. 

“Who sent you that invitation?” Yoongi asks, burying his hands into his jacket pockets as he watches Taehyun intently— the said man pauses, mind thinking back to the name Beomgyu mentioned before he’s uttering it quietly, unsure of himself as he avoids Yoongi’s gaze. 

“Choi Yeonjun.” Taehyun is surprised to find both of you reacting, watching as your shoulders shake with quiet laughter, head turning to Yoongi who simply sends you a knowing look; the two of you shake your heads in dismay, leaving Taehyun to wonder if he said the wrong name as he watches Yoongi let out a deep sigh. 

“That explains it,” Yoongi mutters, taking the cigarette from your hands before he’s taking a drag of it himself; he’s blowing the smoke out to the side before he finally decides to give Taehyun more context, the sight of the man staring at him bringing him amusement as his lips twinge into a small smile. 

“You and Yeonjun, were you guys close?” Taehyun slowly shakes his head at the question, making Yoongi scoff— he wonders why the older man seems to be making such a big deal about this person, but the heavy feeling in his gut tells him it’s nothing good, “Makes sense— thought you had a death wish or something.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Taehyun asks, tired of being left out in the dark from the way Yoongi refuses to give proper context; he can’t help the way he straightens slightly as you turn back around to face him, your gaze still full of anger as you glare at Taehyun. 

“That invitation was a setup,” you begin, brow raising at the way Taehyun’s mouth falls open in surprise, “Choi Yeonjun was exposed as a rat years ago; he was working with police to try and get the club shutdown, greedy for money— didn’t exactly end well for him.” 

It all seems to make sense now; the hostility whenever either boys mentioned the man, the danger it wound them up in— Taehyun tries to keep a straight face at the news, but it’s difficult to do as you grow quiet, surveying Taehyun carefully as you take a step closer to him; then another, and another until you’re eerily close to him, attempting to analyze everything about him before you’re tutting softly. 

“But why he would send an invite to you, I have no idea— let alone how he got a spot in the bracket— what’d he tell you, anyway?” your questions are enough to have Taehyun gulping softly; hell, how was he supposed to know any of this? Yet, as far as you were concerned, Taehyun was the only one who was in contact with the man. 

“Nothing much,” Taehyun replies, hoping you can’t see through his lies as he stares straight into your eyes, “it came in the mail— just told me he secured two spots.” 

“Think about it,” Yoongi says, diverting your attention away from Taehyun for a second— he can feel himself relax slightly, free from your intense gaze as you turn to look at your friend, “Why else would he try to get involved with FightX again? And through other fighters, on top of that.”

“He might be trying to get back in the scene,”  you say, seemingly coming to a conclusion before Taehyun can as your face lightens up; first, with confusion, then with amusement as a smile tugs at your lips. Turning back to Taehyun, you can’t help but laugh slightly in disbelief, “The prize money probably wasn’t going to be yours to begin with.”

Still a rat, hmm, you mutter, the smile on your face contradictory to the way you bite your lip in irritation; the laugh you let out isn’t very convincing either, and Yoongi can only roll his eyes at your antics as he’s leaning against the wall once more, taking a slow drag from the cigarette in his hand before he’s flicking off the ash absentmindedly. 

“How do you know all this?” Taehyun asks, the question hitting him suddenly as he takes a good look at the people before him; a restaurant worker and a man who seemed to be involved in shadier things than he let on— his curiosity laid more on you, taking in the way you seemed unphased by his question, “who are you guys?” 

That’s enough for you and Yoongi to share a bewildered look; it takes a second before you’re both laughing, amused at his words as you allow Yoongi to answer.

“Kid, you’re looking at the two old champions of FightX,” Yoongi smiles, eyes creasing as Taehyun takes notice of the scar that runs through one of them, “We’re the only fucking reason that club survived for so long.” 

Taehyun’s look of bewilderment is the only thing to have you cracking a genuine smile; rolling your eyes, you huff as his eyes land on you, observing you for a moment before he frowns in confusion.

“You’re a fighter?” Taehyun asks, watching as the two of you nod without hesitation, “Makes sense.” 

“Alright you little prick,” you seethe, eye twitching at his witty comment, “I know you have a smart fucking mouth, but I still can’t get used to it.” 

You feel as though you might show Taehyun some of your moves when he simply cracks an innocent smile at you— only to stop, the sound of hurried steps and the loud yell of your name making the three of you turn towards the sound. 

Ah, you hear Yoongi mumble behind you, dropping his cigarette and snuffing it out before Ms. Choi can pick up on it; the tense smiles the two of you sport quickly has Taehyun doing the same, shuffling back until he’s covered behind Yoongi— from the corner of your eye, you see the younger man cross his arms awkwardly, attempting to cover his blood-soaked clothes as he keeps his head ducked down. 

Ms. Choi is a wreck; you’re able to pick up on it easily, the light that leaks out from within highlighting her features that are soaked with worry and stress; her face is pulled into a frown and her eyes threaten to leak with tears as she stumbles to a stop before you. 

Her expression is unreadable; you’re unsure of how she might react or what she might do, but you wouldn’t blame her if she lashed out any of her anger on you— jolting, you’re taken aback by the way she practically leaps on you, arms caging you in a bone crushing hug as she buries her head into your shoulder— the sounds of her sniffles are enough to have you snapping out of your frozen state, arms coming up to hold the woman tightly in return. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she mutters, her hands gripping onto your clothes at the reminder, “I’m so glad he’s alive.”

“He’s safe, Ms. Choi. He’s okay, he’ll recover in no time,” your reassurance is soft and endless as you pat her back, allowing her to cry freely into your arms as you give her a moment to recollect herself— sniffing, she pulls away, wiping at her eyes before her gaze falls on Yoongi. 

“Ma’am,” Yoongi nods, his face tense as he awaits for her to say something; his face mirrors your own as he’s pulled into a hug, eyes widening and posture stiffening before he slowly returns the gesture.

“Thank you for bringing my son back to me,” she says, pulling away before she reaches up to cup Yoongi’s face; she takes him in, smiling tenderly as she adds, “I’m happy to see you’ve been well.”

Yoongi smiles at her comment; he’s surprised to see that she still remembers him, times spent visiting you at work and pestering you coming to mind as he lets out a soft laugh. 

“They said only immediate family is allowed to visit at this time,” you mutter softly, taking her attention as she turns to face you, “We’ll wait out here for you.”

Taking your hands, she nods; you can see how apologetic she is as she takes a moment to smile reassuringly, telling you that she’ll let you know how he’s doing before she disappears inside— watching her figure retreat, you can’t help but frown after a moment, wondering if she’ll be alright on her own. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, the reality of it all hitting you again as you tilt your head back defeatedly; staring at the night sky, you bury your hands into your pockets, fighting the emotions that threaten to spill over as you speak, “How the fuck am I supposed to handle all this now.” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Yoongi says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he becomes quick to reassure you, “I can help you out, I know some people.”

“No Yoongi,” you quickly say, shrugging off his shoulder as you send him a stern look, “I don’t want you to get involved in any shady stuff over this— I got this, you don’t need to worry.” 

Your argument continues to go back and forth for a while— Taehyun feels insanely awkward as he’s forced to watch, unsure of what to do as he wonders if it’s just best to sneak away and go back inside— after what seems like ten minutes, he realizes he’s had enough as he goes to butt in. 

“Let’s just win that stupid thing back,” Taehyun blurts out, stopping the both of you in your tracks as you slowly turn to look at him, “you said they’d probably hold another tournament, no? We’ll just win it back through there.”

“Are you—?” you cut yourself off as you place a hand over your mouth, running it down in frustration before you’re starting again, “You were invited to that place by Choi Yeonjun, a fucking rat. You really think they’d just let you waltz back in and join?”

“Minho—” Taehyun says, pausing for a moment as he frowns, thinking back to what the owner of the place said, “You’ll be back soon. That’s what he said, no?”

“He wants us to come back,” Yoongi realizes, glancing at you as he watches the way your jaw clenches in annoyance, “He knew we’d be back for that damn prize.”

“And what better way to draw in gamblers than with a match after tonight’s show,” you continue, your mind racing with ideas before you’re finally looking back at Taehyun, “But what, how are we supposed to arrange something like this? You seriously think we can just walk in and have a civilized conversation?” 

⊹⊹⊹

“Are you fucking insane?” 

Taehyun’s hushed scolding is enough to have you rolling your eyes, unphased by his reaction as you tug your shirt over your jeans more; shrugging your jacket on, you nod back at Yoongi, who only returns the gesture after he’s zipped his own coat up; you can barely feel the gun that’s tucked into your waistband, but Taehyun is determined to not allow you to forget about it as his eyes fall onto it’s hiding spot every three seconds. 

“It’s rude to stare,” you mumble, slapping Taehyun’s shoulder and forcing him to turn back around; you allow Yoongi to lead the way through the busy streets, the bright alleyways and busy shops entirely inconspicuous as you make your way to a familiar store, entirely empty except for the owner that attends it. 

There are no customers when you enter; The store is packed with products and is poorly lit, and it’s oddly quiet as you walk around; making your way around the aisles swiftly, it almost feels like muscle memory before you’re stopping at the checkout— narrowing your eyes, you’re not surprised to find Minho sitting on a stool behind the register, not bothering to look up from the book he reads as he adjusts his thin wired glasses slightly— leaning on the counter, you clear your throat, raising a brow as you tap your fingers rhythmically on the surface. 

“A win is only official after it is announced by the referee; if both fighters fail to present themselves in the ring, the match is invalid.” Minho doesn’t bother to look up from his book as he speaks; carefully, he reaches to fold the page he’s on, pressing his fingers on the dog-ear meticulously before he’s shutting the book gingerly; placing it on the counter, he finally looks up, smiling sweetly as he does so. 

“But you already know that, don’t you?”

“You’re holding another tournament, aren’t you,” you say, the words coming out as a statement rather than a question.

“Perhaps.”

“We want in,” you can see the way Minho processes your words, his eyes scanning from you to Yoongi before his smile is growing a bit wider; catching onto his thought process, you’re quick to shake your head, reaching behind you and pulling Taehyun roughly as you ignore the way he stumbles forward.

“I mean him. Just him.”

Minho’s smile wavers a little— you can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes decrease slightly, but his expression is still amused as he quickly recalls who the fighter in front of him is; narrowing his eyes, Minho hums, oddly docile as he looks back at you.

“Fine,” to say that it’s unnerving to watch Minho agree so easily is an understatement; you’re sharing a confused look with Yoongi as you watch the way Minho stands from his seat, rounding the counter before he begins to walk away— glancing back at you, he nods to the exit, telling you to follow him before he continues walking. 

Before you can think too hard on it, you’re tugging the two men along; anything to make sure he doesn’t disappear from your sight, you think, but you can’t help but pat yourself down slightly in search of your gun the moment you see where you’re headed. 

“Relax, it’s empty right now,” Minho hums, swinging the door wide open and allowing you to see, smiling in amusement as he takes in the way you remain a few steps back, “I’ve decided that a tournament is just too simple.”

“After the glorious show you put on last night, I knew my patrons would love to see more of your people,” Minho continues, a satisfied look flashing through his features as the three of you finally make your way to his level, peeking through the door cautiously, “and what better way than to skip the bracket and give the public what they want?” 

There’s a single person inside; you’re on guard as you watch them, the dull lights of the place barely allowing you to see them as you squint your eyes; He’s practicing, you realize, watching as he uses the punch bag before him diligently, his sounds of effort reaching you as he continues. 

“One v. One match,” Minho smiles, glancing into the door to see what the man inside is up to; the four of you watch as he does a spin kick, the force from it sending the punching bag flying to the side, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the empty area as you wince at the sight.

The man lets out a huff of exhaustion after; he’s backing up, shaking his body as he steps into the light that emits from a window behind him— pushing his hair back, you’re able to take in his features, your eyes widening as you realize who it is that currently stands before you. 

“Your fighter versus mine— The Cobra.”

The Cobra— otherwise known as Park Jongseong— or rather, Minho’s last apprentice before you left.

“The best of the best, no?” Minho continues, his gaze meeting your own as he smiles knowingly, “you win this, you win everything— no questions asked, no… attacks, on my part.”

You can already hear Yoongi’s thoughts behind you; this is dangerous, this is a horrible, insane idea. 

And you agree— you agree wholeheartedly, hesitating to respond as you take another moment to observe The Cobra— yet it seems as though you’ve taken too long, lost deep in your own thoughts as you fail to account for another, stupid variable. 

“Deal,” Taehyun butts in, leaving you speechless as you’re forced to watch the way he shakes Minho’s hand casually; the older man can only laugh at the action, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes meet yours— his smile only widens more as he takes in your baffled expression.

You find yourself speechless— even when you go back up to discuss the rules and terms of the fight, speechless when Yoongi reluctantly agrees, and speechless when you walk out of the inconspicuous store, your hands clutching tightly onto the paper given to you with the specific details of the match. 

You’re only able to muster up the courage to look at Taehyun once you’ve gotten back in the car safely; he meets your gaze after a moment, brows furrowing as he finds himself annoyed with your dumbstruck expression. 

“What the hell do you want?” 

This stupid boy has no idea what he just got himself into.

⊹⊹⊹

“Three weeks,” you say, pacing back and forth as you find yourself in the last place you would ever want to be; Seokjin’s small fight club is no match to the basement of FightX, but it’s enough for you to train in as you choose to look past the dimly lit area, the natural light that leaks in from the small windows above the only thing that allows you to see properly— Taehyun watches you impatiently, stretching his muscles as he stands by the training equipment in attention, wanting nothing more than to get started already. 

“For the next three weeks, you’ll throw away any plans you’ve made— I expect to see you here everyday for training.”

”Wait, you’re training me?” Taehyun interjects, watching the way you narrow your eyes at him in warning— he looks back to where Yoongi sits, slumped over in his chair as he smiles lazily the moment their eyes meet— then he looks back at you, biting his lip before he continues, “Why not him?”

“Because you want to get trained by the best, no?” Yoongi calls out, already able to see the way you bristle at Taehyun’s comment; the said boy nods, lips pressed together as he takes a moment to observe you again, “Then she’ll be training you. Now watch your mouth before you sweet trainer here decides enough is enough.”

“But the restaurant,” Taehyun backtracks, realizing how his comment may have come off as he speaks, “Won’t you be busy?” 

“Winning that tournament is more important,” you say, not missing a beat as you begin to stretch, “Especially since you agreed to fight The Cobra, of all people.”

“Seriously, why is that a big deal?” Taehyun huffs, rolling his eyes as you signal for him to continue stretching, “the dude can’t be that dangerous.”

“That dude has been in the ring for years,” Yoongi says, catching Taehyun’s attention as he pauses in his movements, “Much longer than you, to be sure.”

“Meaning,” you continue, sighing in dismay at the thought of your next words, “He’s been trained by Minho himself.”

“And us.” 

The sudden revelation is enough to have Taehyun tensing; stomach sinking, he seems to realize why you were so hesitant to agree to this arrangement. 

“Anything we teach you, Park Jongseong has already mastered,” you say, putting on focus mitts before you gesture for Taehyun to come closer, “That’s where you come in— I’ve been praying that you’d be a decent fighter, hoping you’d have some skills of your own we could hone in on.”

Taehyun frowns at your words— you aren’t exactly the most encouraging person he’s met, and he can even feel his confidence dwindling as he stands before you, pausing as he watches you put up your mitted hands— a moment passes and you’re rolling your eyes, scoffing at the way Taehyun seems to be hesitant before you. 

“What are you waiting for?” you scold, your tough voice enough for the man to snap out of his daze; his expression is unreadable as you watch a shift in his form, his hesitation quickly being wiped off as he takes a step toward you— his stance is shifting, and you watch with delight as his eyes turn dangerous, honing in on your mitts as he brings his fists up. 

Let’s see what you got. 

⊹⊹⊹ 

“Again.” 

For once, Taehyun begins to realize the consequences of his actions. 

His body is on fire; he feels as though all his strength has escaped him, pushing his hair back for the upteenth time as he winces at the sweat that coats it— you remain unphased, and Taehyun wonders for a second if you have unlimited stamina as you raise your brow at him expectantly. 

His body has yet to become accustomed to this new schedule. He’s gotten used to seeing you every day, reviewing techniques and giving him pointers before you’re giving him a thorough workout; tonight, you’ve decided to focus on his kicks, bringing up many different fighting styles and forcing him to practice on the punching bag that hangs in a nearby corner. 

“Come on, can’t we just take a break? I’ve been at this for—“

“I said again,” you interrupt, glaring at the way Taehyun sends you an irritated look; Taehyun has grown used to your intimidation tactics after spending more time with you than should be considered normal, your once terrifying anger nothing more than something Taehyun has to put up with as he sighs— he still knows better than to go against you, though.

And so, he does exactly what you taught him— though it’s sloppy, and he knows he’ll get an earful as he executes the kick weakly— though, he personally blames your refusal to give him a proper break for his actions.  

“Have you not been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying?” you ask, exasperated as you make your way to him; standing next to him, you gesture for him to step aside, getting in front of the punching bag yourself before you’re getting into the proper stance. 

“I need you to remember to swing your hips; like this,” stepping forward with your right foot, you extend your left leg slowly, twisting your hips along with the motion as you freeze, gesturing to your hips, “If you don’t, your kick won’t be as powerful; you need to put your whole body into it, not just your leg.”

Stepping back, you demonstrate again, pushing through the rest of the kick as you listen to the thud that echoes from your move— Taehyun can’t help the way his eyes widen as he watches the punching bag swing back and forth, analyzing your form before another thought is popping into his head. 

“That kick,” Taehyun mumbles, switching spots with you as he begins to envision what you just did, trying to get his body to recreate it before he pauses, “Beomgyu did that— he used that move all the time.” 

“Yeah? Glad he finally got it right,” you sigh, unfazed by his words as you cross your arms, smiling in amusement— Taehyun turns to look at you, frowning in confusion as you practically read his mind, “Hey, if I can’t stop that idiot from sneaking off to this place, I might as well make sure he doesn’t die.”

The laugh you let out after is tense and bittersweet; Beomgyu was doing much better now, but he remained in the hospital due to complications from the infection of his wound— you were given the news that he would most likely need physical therapy as well, the sound of it only motivating you to work harder after you watched the way Ms. Choi paled with the news. 

“He almost knocked you out with it? Holy shit,” you laugh, incredulous as Taehyun tells you the details of his first encounter with the boy— the proud smile that spreads across your face catches Taehyun off guard, your eyes twinkling with delight as you gesture back to the punching bag. “Don’t you wanna get as good as him? Come on, show me you’re not all talk.”

The sudden comparison to Beomgyu has Taehyun bristling with annoyance, rolling his eyes as he reluctantly follows your words— a strange, nagging feeling manifests within his mind, telling him to prove himself and dispel all your worries about him as a fighter— it motivates him, taking a deep breath before he’s getting into the proper stance; closing his eyes, he envisions his body following the same movement path you did, eyes zeroing in on the punching bag before him as he finally executes the kick. 

“There we go,” you hiss, an excited grin spreading on your face as you listen to the impact of Taehyun’s kick— though it’s too early for the said man to celebrate, his eyes lighting up for a second before you’re back to pester him for pointers. 

“You need to stay light on your feet,” you remind him, rolling your eyes at the way he tries to interfere with your comment, telling you that it’s because I’m exhausted, “Do you think Jongseong will care if you’re tired? You think he’s gonna go easy on you if you start bitching at him the way you are now?”

“There’s no need for you to be such a bitch, either,” Taehyun sneers, getting back into stance as he watches the way you remain unfazed by his comment. 

“Maybe I’ll start being nice once you prove to be useful.” you mutter, and Taehyun swears the anger that courses through him fuels his kick as he feels his body twisting with energy— so much energy that he’s losing his footing, the impact that booms from his move much louder than his previous attempts as he stumbles back— from the corner of his eyes, he sees the way your eyes widen slightly at the sight.

“Not bad,” you say, tilting your head as you study Taehyun for a second; he’s exhausted and soaked with sweat, his eyes filled with pure anger and frustration you might just think he’ll fight you instead— the thought is enough to have you stifling a laugh, your lips twitching slightly before you’re snapping back to reality. 

“You need to practice your balance if you’re gonna use your body like that,” humming softly, you think for a second, brows furrowing as you continue, “if anything, you should try some spinning hook kicks— that could improve your balance great—”

“You’re here again?” the voice that yells out from the entrance has you startled for a second, turning around before you’re groaning in frustration; you’re leaving Taehyun’s side immediately as you go to the source of the sound— Seokjin seems to be just as annoyed as you are, turning on the rest of the lights with an irritated look on his face. 

“You know why we’re here, Seokjin,” you say, yet the reminder of your reasoning doesn’t seem to be enough for the man, watching as he shakes his head in disapproval. 

“You know I have a club to run, right?” it’s clear you’ve given up as you mutter a yeah yeah, softly, pouting like a child to the older man, “I can’t have this place running while you’re training that poor kid to death.”

“My regimen has results.” you say defensively, glaring at Seokjin, who simply puts up his hands in defeat, unphased by your attitude as he glances back at Taehyun.

“He looks like he’s about to pass out.” 

Following Seokjin’s line of sight, you find yourself wincing; it seems that you’ve only now gotten a good look at the man, watching the way he’s already slumped down at the bench nearby, his chest heaving with shallow breaths and his eyes fluttering as he holds onto his water bottle tightly— frowning, you listen to the way Seokjin quietly asks you how long have you been in here today? your mind going back to the hours you’ve spent cooped inside this building— not to mention day after day. 

“Go back to opening this place,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at the way Seokjin smiles triumphantly— the guilt you feel is odd as you approach Taehyun, standing by awkwardly as you watch the way he doesn’t even acknowledge you, much too tired to even open his eyes. 

“Hey. Don’t pass out on me,” you say, slapping Taehyun’s bicep and watching as he startles awake— his eyes meet yours, wincing at the sudden increase of light as he squints up at you.

“We’re done for today. Let’s go,” you mutter, unsure of what else to do as you give Taehyun a helping hand; he observes it for a moment, oddly skeptical before he finally takes it— his skin is surprisingly soft for having the hands of a fighter, though you try not to let it show on your face as you help him up; the groan of exertion he lets out isn’t lost on you, and you’re surprised to find yourself feeling bad for doing this to him. 

A pitch black night greets you the moment you’re exiting the building, yelling one last goodbye to Seokjin before you’re closing the door behind you— you can hear Taehyun softly grumble about having to climb way too many stairs, and you can only let out a huff in amusement before you’re linking an arm with him for support.

“Come on tiger, don’t let a set of stairs knock you out,” you mock, ignoring his angered rebuttals that he can barely slur out— you’ve really done a number on him today, you realize, the witty man beside you reduced to nothing more than a slumped figure as he continues to complain under his breath, leaving you unfazed the moment he tries to complain about your routines again. 

“Don’t make me regret what I’m about to do for you,” is all you say in response, leading him to your car as you ignore his protests that he just wants to go home, “It’s been hours since you’ve eaten— come on, let’s go see Beomgyu, I bet he’s going insane from the hospital food.”

You’re not sure if it’s the sound of food or the mention of Beomgyu that has Taehyun perking up with interest, but you’re rolling your eyes at him nonetheless as you’re starting your car; driving towards Ms. Choi’s restaurant, you’re guessing it’s the former as Taehyun tells you that all he wants at the moment is some simple ramen. 

The drive is calming— Taehyun doesn’t seem as annoying to you anymore, but a glance at him makes you realize it’s only because he’s knocked out in your passenger’s seat, completely silent save for his occasional shifting to get more comfortable.

Now this is a side of him you like. 

⊹⊹⊹

Seokjin’s words seem to have affected you more than you’d like to admit. 

At least, they definitely have if it’s enough to have Taehyun staring at you as though you’ve gone mad, feeling a strange heat rush to your cheeks as you press your lips together awkwardly. 

“Are you messing with me?” 

“No. Unless you want to go back to the usual,” you snap, and Taehyun can only put his hands up in surrender as he bows his head down; your proposal to have a rest day feels odd to Taehyun, even more so when you’ve already managed to drag the man all the way to the club.

“What’re we even doing here then?”

“There’s less than a week left before the match,” you sigh, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket as you pause to check the message— you feel your shoulders slump with relief as you’re answering, glancing up at Taehyun, who was already watching you curiously.

“While you have shown improvement in your techniques, there’s still more you could improve on,” your sentence is interrupted as the sound of the door opens, the two of you turning to see who might be coming in— while Taehyun fully expected Jin to burst inside and start complaining, he’s surprised to find something else. 

“I don’t want your body to wear out on me, so I’ll tone down the intensity of your routines as the final day approaches,” you continue, unfazed by the people that begin to approach— Yoongi is casual as he sends the two of you a wave, the woman next to him sending you a cheery nod before her gaze is falling on Taehyun.

“And we’ll work on your fighting IQ instead.” 

One glance at Taehyun is enough to tell you that he has yet to connect the dots; you’re gesturing for the woman next to Yoongi to step forward, bringing her to your side before you’re introducing her— Taehyun notes that the two of you must be good friends, if the way she clings to you happily is enough of a sign. 

“This is Sooyoung,” you say, and the woman next to you— Sooyoung— simply smiles, her eyes creasing and her face lighting up as she sends Taehyun a friendly wave, “Sooyoung, Taehyun.”

“So he’s the reckless boy you were telling me about?” Sooyoung asks, tinted lips pursing as she stares Taehyun down— the nickname is enough to have Taehyun’s gaze hardening, sending the woman a harsh look that only makes her laugh— the woman’s bubbly attitude feels far more patronizing than genuine as she tilts her head like a puppy. 

“I do see potential,” she murmurs, lost in thought for a second before she’s snapping out of it— turning to Yoongi, she practically bounces over to him, and it isn’t until then that Taehyun takes in the duffle bag that the man carried in with him. 

“The locker rooms are back there, right?” Sooyoung asks, looking at you expectantly before you’re sending her a nod of confirmation. Cool. Be right back! she says, skipping away with the duffle bag, her long dark hair swaying behind her as Taehyun’s mouth falls open at his words.

“Is she— am I fighting her?” Taehyun breathes out, a bit skeptical as he looks at you in bewilderment. All he gets in return is the usual roll of your eyes, unable to hold back your laugh at his stupidity. 

“No dumbass,” You say, reaching up for the zipper of your jacket before you’re tugging it down— it isn’t until you’re shedding the layer off that Taehyun takes in your appearance, your hair tied back and your face turning serious as you begin stretching— he takes note of your hands, wrapped tightly in the wraps he always uses as his brows are jumping up in realization— catching his reaction, you smile. 

“I am.” 

Sooyoung is skipping out of the locker room moments later; it’s hard to not notice her, especially with her bright trunks and wraps that match the rest of her outfit— a bright green, the hair tie that keeps her hair up the exact same color as she makes her way to the cage. 

“You’ll be my coach for this. I’ll only follow your instructions, so you better not get me fucked up,” you explain, joining Sooyoung by the cage before you’re turning back— Taehyun has yet to follow you, his brows furrowed as he waits for you to tell him you’re joking; instead, you’re left unamused as you cross your arms, hissing for him to hurry up and get over here. 

“How is this supposed to help?” Taehyun asks, his gaze following you as you make your way inside; he’s never seen you like this, and though he hates to admit it, you’ve definitely piqued his interest.

“Seriously, are you always like this?” Is all you can say, looking down at Taehyun from where you stand within the cage— Taehyun remains silent, choosing to hold his tongue for once as he simply stares at you in response.

“You’ve never seen The Cobra fight. You don’t know what moves he’ll pull or how to counter them,” you begin, glancing back to the opposite corner; Sooyoung is crouched down in it, speaking to Yoongi through the fence as they throw the occasional look back at you, “You need to learn how to analyze your opponent— their tells, fighting style, go-to moves— everything.”

“Yoongi is coaching Joy in this match; the next match, he’ll be coaching me.” Taehyun finally seems to understand as he looks at Sooyoung— or Joy, as you called her, the strange nickname not going unnoticed by him as he furrows his brows at the sound of it. Yoongi coached Jongseong— so did you. 

Through this match, he’ll get to take a peek into his opponents mind, no matter how miniscule. 

After a minute of discussion, you finally decide to start the first round; Taehyun is oddly anxious as he watches you, your footsteps careful and calculated as you watch Joy, eyes narrowed and dark as you keep your guard up— the said man’s advice runs through your head, knowing you warned him you’d mostly be using his tips as you circle Joy carefully. 

Taehyun realizes why Sooyoung is called Joy; he almost feels unnerved looking at her, the carefree smile and relaxed body language entirely enticing, a perfect trap to lure someone into lowering their guard— but Taehyun knows better than to think lowly of anyone you decide to bring in, her light steps and playful jabs enough to tell him that she’s definitely more calculative than she lets on.

Taehyun’s advice gets you a solid punch to the face and a painful kick to the stomach— it hurts like hell and makes you want to fight properly, but the need to allow Taehyun to improve on his own is nagging as you take the injuries and trudge over after the round is over, eyes pointed at him as though to say now what?

“Don’t look at me like that,” Taehyun hisses, annoyed at the way you already seem to be losing— he knows you can fight, yet the results of the round say otherwise as you stare at him expectantly, enough of a reminder that you currently put all strategies into his hands. 

“Okay, okay,” he sighs, glancing back at the corner Joy and Yoongi currently converse in, “It’s clear that she enjoys taunting you. A lot.”

Taehyun seems to be talking more to himself than anything, thinking back to what he saw as he continues rambling, “But she seems to have this tell— every time she’s going to strike, she smiles a bit— which is fucking creepy— it’s barely there but I’ve noticed it, especially in her eyes.”

His comments have you both impressed and amused; it had taken you quite some time to figure out Joy’s tell when you first met her, so to watch as Taehyun thoroughly breaks down her fighting style is enough to have you listening to him intently. 

“I think she’s aware of it too, because her rear hand always comes a little closer to her face when she does it—” the one-minute timer is up as Yoongi calls you back to the center of the ring, and you’re looking at Taehyun expectantly for one last comment— with his train of thought interrupted, he stumbles over his words, giving up after a moment before he’s waving you off. 

“Just watch her tells. Oh, and avoid her kicks, that looked like it hurt.”

The way you scoff mockingly isn’t lost on Taehyun— but before he can call you out on it, you’re off, the next round starting as Taehyun watches you carefully.

Joy’s tell has become much more obvious to him; it only takes a moment, but he’s able to see every small habit and go-to that Joy has, his mind racing with strategies as he quickly realizes you’re doing the same. Joy is a predictable fighter to you— granted, she was your sparring partner for years— and with Taehyun’s new discovery, you allow yourself to exploit what you know of her and use it to your advantage. 

You’re able to turn the match around with ease— Taehyun isn’t able to fight the way his eyes slowly begin to stray, away from Joy and to you, observing the way you remain focused, your moves precise and strong as he even finds himself wincing at times.

After a moment, Taehyun realizes that he’s seeing you in a new light— literally and figuratively, the spotlights suddenly turned on as someone new walks in— it highlights your features perfectly, and Taehyun is able to see your expression crystal clear, watching as your focus is shattered and you’re looking over at the entrance; the small moment of distraction costs you greatly, and Joy is able to land a punch straight to your nose before you’re falling down. 

You’re placed into a tight chokehold seconds after, still disoriented from the punch as you reluctantly tap out— gasping for air, you’re quickly turning back to the entrance, glaring daggers at Jungkook, who simply smiles at you sheepishly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, cheeks reddening slightly from the sudden attention, “we’re just getting ready to open soon— you looked really cool though, ___.”

A moment passes before you’re laughing softly at his comment— Taehyun can’t help but wonder what might be going on between you two as Joy pulls you up, calling an early end to the match before you’re both exiting the cage. 

“That was super fun,” Sooyoung hums, watching as you can only agree reluctantly; she coos at your disgruntled state, patting your head and laughing cutely as she apologizes for her harsh blows; turning to Taehyun, her smile widens, and Taehyun is impressed to find a bruise forming on her jawline as she speaks. 

“___ told me you figured out my tells,” she pouts, her tone playful as she crosses her arms, “I seriously thought I finally got past those. Well done.” 

Taehyun feels oddly embarrassed as he nods.

“Let’s continue where we left off tomorrow,” you say, glancing over to where Jungkook busies himself at the bar, ignoring the way all of you seem to observe him for a second before you continue, “Looks like you’re not that useless after all.”

“I think he’ll be okay!” Sooyoung says, a bright smile on her face as she looks at Taehyun happily, “I mean, if you keep going the way you are, you’ll definitely survive!”

The way you and Yoongi snicker makes Taehyun’s jaw clench, rolling his eyes at the way they all constantly patronize him— his lack of response is enough to have Sooyoung apologizing softly, saying that she just loves to tease.

“We should go,” you say, throwing your jacket back on and zipping it up all the way, “they’re opening soon, and I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t wanna be in a place like this any longer.”

Yoongi and Sooyoung agree— they mumble something along the lines of “brings back too many memories,” the words making Taehyun raise a brow as he begins to wonder just how many people you knew from that club. 

Taehyun feels awkward as he watches them leave— it’s just you and him, and he’s forced to stand around awkwardly as he watches you gather your things, reluctant to leave you for reasons he can’t seem to think of. 

“___, you’re not staying?” Jungkook’s soft pout is a stark contrast to the rest of him, decked in full black and piercings that shine under the lights— Taehyun wonders if the bartender is secretly a fighter as well, the muscle that bulges from his arm not remotely subtle, even under the sleeves of his shirt. 

“Nah, I’m too tired. I took a good beating ‘cause of you,'' you say, watching as Jungkook only smiles sheepishly. Your body feels sore and you’re more than ready to go home and rest, but the way Jungkook continues to give you puppy eyes suggests that you might have to fight him off too. 

“I can patch you up,” he says, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way he flutters his eyes at you, “I haven’t seen you in so long— you’re never at the restaurant, you know.”

“Well, I am kinda busy,” you say, nodding softly at Taehyun who, to your surprise, is still at your side. 

Jungkook remains silent for a second. His eyes leave yours as they inspect Taehyun, analyzing the man who simply huffs and crosses his arms in annoyance. Meeting his eyes, Taehyun refuses to back down, raising a brow as he waits for Jungkook to say something to him. 

“Aren’t you tired of being around him all the time?” Jungkook finally speaks, clearly set on ignoring Taehyun as he turns back to you— his smile is seemingly innocent as he leans against the counter, ignoring his duties as he continues to try to get you to stay, “I can bet you I’m more fun to be around than him.”

“Noona,” Taehyun says, his voice stern and clear as speaks. This time, you both turn to him; your shock is clear on your face, eyes wide and confused as your brows knit together, wondering where the sudden formality appeared from. 

“We should go. This place is opening soon,” he says, watching as your mouth opens in an attempt to respond— though you can’t seem to figure out what to say, and Taehyun is quick to roll his eyes and go ahead— with one last glance at Jungkook, you bid him goodbye, feeling oddly tense as you follow Taehyun outside. 

“Shit,” he hears you say, though he doesn’t pay any mind to it as he stands outside— the smell of rain lingers in the air, the city alight and busy even after dark hours— from behind him, he can still hear you mumbling to yourself, your words incoherent and irritated to his ears. 

“You know, if you wanted to stay with that guy you could’ve—“ he’s stopped short by the sight of you, brows furrowed together and a sleeve pressed firmly to your nose as you curse under your breath— though the blood that ran out of your nose still clings to your chin, and you have yet to wipe it off as you continue to complain about the issue quietly, digging in your bag as you ignore Taehyun. 

“Hey, you don’t happen to have tissues, do you—?” 

The answer is a definite no. Taehyun can feel himself acting on impulse— maybe it was because the sight made him cringe, or maybe he was looking out for your safety— but next thing he knows, he’s tugging you along, away from the hidden building and straight to the convenience store a block away. 

“Wait, where are we even going?” You ask, unable to put up much of a fight as you focus on keeping the bleeding under control. Taehyun doesn’t answer, and when you attempt to tug your arm out of his grip, all you get in response is the feeling of his fingers tightening around you. 

“Tissues,” Taehyun mumbles, tugging you into the store without a second thought. 

You feel oddly awkward around him— you’re not used to seeing him like this— he’s quiet, serious and not the same person that’s always trying to piss you off with some ridiculous comment. Instead, he’s oddly tentative, and you find yourself sitting at the table placed outside as you watch him rummage through the bag, pulling out one thing after another as you sit there, pressing the tissue he gave you a bit firmer to your nose. 

“This wasn’t necessary, you know,” you say quietly, eyes narrowing as you observe him carefully— despite your constant reassurance that you didn’t want him to spend on you, you currently watch him eat his instant noodles in silence, your own still covered up and warm while the two of you wait for your nose bleed to die down— though you pretend otherwise, you notice the way he glances at you every other second to see how you’re doing, offering to pour you a bit of soju that you decline with a soft scoff. 

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice,” he comments, his words muffled through a mouthful of noodles— he ignores your scolding to not talk with his mouth full, clicking your tongue in annoyance as you only get a roll of his eyes in return. 

“Yeah…. thanks,” you mutter, barely audible as you take the tissue away from your nose slowly— Taehyun is mid-bite as he freezes, eyes darting up to observe you— and you smile slightly, relieved to feel that your nose bleed is finally gone. 

“Ugh, that was so annoying,” you grumble, wiping at your face for any blood that’s still there; you’re fussing quietly to yourself, unable to notice as Taehyun begins to rummage through his plastic bag once more, finally finding his desired item before he throws it at you, the small packet landing right in front of you unceremoniously. 

“Here,” is all he says, avoiding any more eye-contact as he goes back to eating, the ramen disappearing within seconds from how quickly he eats. 

An odd silence falls between you; the ‘thank you’ you let out is barely audible, your demeanor awkward as you open the packet of wet wipes he tossed at you— he simply nods at you in response, and you find yourself feeling tense as you watch him sit back in his seat, shameless in the way he stares you down, clear in thought as he presses his lips together. 

“Back at the club,” you begin awkwardly, folding the wet tissue in your hands as you speak, “you called me “noona”— the hell was that about? You’re not one for formalities.”

“But you’re older, aren’t you?” Taehyun says, oddly unfazed by your sudden line of questioning, “Thought I might as well start, if we’re spending so much time together.”

“Not even Beomgyu calls me that,” you say, bristling at the way he quotes Jungkook— you feel oddly flustered by the sudden title, even more so when Taehyun simply looks up at you after a moment— his eyes are wide and innocent as he observes you, and slowly, he breaks out into a soft smile. 

“I’m just being polite,” he says, straightening in his seat as he tilts his head, “Noona.”

“Enough of that,” you bark out, gritting your teeth at the way he only grins at your response, “We need to talk strategy— your fight’s a few days away.”

“Right, right,” Taehyun says, chopsticks circling the inside of his bowl as pauses, thinking back to the man he only got a glimpse of in FightX, “Jongseong— what’s he like?” 

The sudden question has you sitting back in your chair, deep in thought as you think back to Jongseong— The Cobra, or the scrawny thirteen-year-old boy that stumbled into Minho’s convenience store by what you thought was an accident. 

“Can you teach me how to fight?” He had asked you, eyes wide and innocent as he stared up at you, a mere sixteen-year-old that worked at Minho’s store as a side hustle. You remembered pretending as though you had no idea what he was talking about, laughing off the way his curious gaze drifted over the pain patches on your shoulders and your bruised knuckles.

“Where’s your mother?” You remembered asking, incredulous at the way he refused to leave or buy anything; instead, he insisted that you teach him to fight, gluing his feet to the floor despite the fact that you chose to ignore any questions he had about you and your secret hobbies. 

“Don’t know,” he admitted casually, and it wasn’t until then that you noticed his roughed up appearance, his face dirtied and bruised, and his hair filled with dirt and twigs, “she doesn’t come home until night time. I’m alone right now.”

“What… happened to your face?” You asked him, leaning on the counter to get a closer look; you remember reaching over to rid his hair of the dirt, watching as he scrunched his face and slapped your hand off in reaction— the sight of him was an eerie mirror of your own before you found Minho, your brows furrowing at the tough front this kid seemed to put up. 

“Some stupid kids at my school,” he brushed you off, running a hand through his hair as he felt the dirtiness of it with a wince; looking back at you, he took in your concerned expression, frowning at the sight as he leaned against the counter. 

“You know,” he says, raising a brow at the way you study his injuries, “If you’re that worried, why don’t you teach me how to fight?”

His proposition caught your attention— his words were reminiscent of your own, years ago, when you stumbled upon Minho’s small club by accident, a sad attempt to find asylum— and suddenly, you found yourself thinking it through. 

“Okay. But just for self-defense.”

“So you practically raised him,” Taehyun says, the very thought of it making you shiver as you shake your head no, your eye twitching at his words, “No? Well, you did train him, right?”

“Well, he trained for a good two years. Yoongi and I trained him for a while since everyone was too busy to deal with another newbie, and Minho…” sighing, you go to open your own instant noodles, now cooled and a bit soggy as you wince slightly at the sight, “Minho had the idea to throw him in the ring after he reached fifteen.”

You still remember his first fight— you remember being strictly against it the moment Minho proposed it, sudden and instant as he quickly escorted Jongseong away from you; you, being freshly out of a match, barely had any energy to fight back properly. 

“This isn’t what he wants. This is too dangerous, Minho,” you remembered telling him, trying to reason with him despite the roaring spectators drowning your voice out. You remembered how Jongseong looked under Minho’s arm; small, skittish and tense, his eyes flicking around the cage in attempts to familiarize himself with the layout as Minho’s fingers only dug deeper into his shoulder. 

“Of course it’s what he wants,” Minho responded, always quick to leave you helpless with the way he towered over you, a Cheshire smile on his lips as his eyes twinkled with a dangerous delight, “Don’t you remember how you were in your first fight? Could barely throw a punch.”

Before you could argue, Minho continued. 

“You know he has potential. What, afraid he’ll steal the spotlight from you and Yoongi?” Jongseong’s eyes flickered to you then— and in that moment, you realized just how long Minho seemed to have prepared him for this moment, the deep breath he took stabilizing him momentarily as Minho leaned down to speak quietly in his ear. 

“Do you know how much money you could make from today’s match?” Minho had told Jongseong sweetly, and the two of them looked over to the other side of the cage, where his opponent waited for him, “It’s your first match— but I’ve given you an easy kill, I know you’ll win.”

An easy kill— that was definitely one way to describe Jongseong’s victory. You watched first hand as the fear drained from Jongseong’s face, replaced with a dangerous gaze that you had never seen before; you watched as he threw perfect jabs, calculated and lethal as he landed hook after hook on his opponent. 

Even now, you can’t help but feel surprised at how protective you got over him— especially when he was sent flying with a kick to the stomach, crashing against the ground and leaving you tense as you watched the way he didn’t move. 

At the memory, you laugh softly— your eyes flicker up to Taehyun’s, your tone grim as you speak. 

“That was his winning move.”

His opponent got sloppy— he let his guard down, approaching Jongseong so casually that the punch he got to the jaw was definitely deserved— and though his body crashed to the floor and Jongseong was able to get the higher ground, he didn’t stop. 

“He doesn’t care if you’re down. He doesn’t care if he’s won,” you grit out, your appetite lost as you stare down at your cold food, the memory of Jongseong landing hit after hit to his weakened opponent making you frown. 

You still remember the look in his eyes as the referee tore him off his opponent; wild and hungry, still lusting for blood as he attempted to shake the authority figure off. Even when his eyes met yours, horrified at the person Jongseong transformed into, he didn’t care, his grin only widening as the referee announced his name, the audience going wild at the way his arm was thrust up in victory.

The spectacle of his lethal fighting style earned him his special nickname; Minho’s triumphant smile left a sick feeling in your stomach, forced to listen to the way the announcers paraded around Jongseong like a killer animal. 

After that day, you watched Jongseong grow into the person he is today; cold, calculated, and borderline murderous. 

“Every time I look at him, I’m reminded of the kid who came to me looking to learn self-defense,” you chuckle dryly, frowning at the memory, “Then I remember who he’s become, and I can’t help but feel responsible for it.”

“When I met Beomgyu through that god-forsaken club, I was reminded of Jongseong,” the sudden revelation has Taehyun listening intently, leaning in to watch as your eyes drift off to the city around you, foggy and reminiscent as you tell him your story. 

“For some reason, I thought that maybe this time, I could prevent him from becoming a monster,” you mutter, leaning your chin into your palm as you sigh, “Though, I don’t think I like this outcome either.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Taehyun quickly interjects, and he flinches slightly at the way your eyes flicker back to meet his, regarding him for a moment before you smile. 

“I know. It was yours.”

He’s not sure how to respond to that; he’s not sure if he should, unsure of what he should say or do as you stare him down silently— after a second, you’re breaking out into a soft laugh, tired and broken up as you wince from the feeling of your bruised ribs.

“I’m just fuckin with you,” you say, sitting up at you take in the way Taehyun visibly relaxes, “You didn’t force Beomgyu to do anything. It was all out of his free will.”

“And I kinda know that you lied about the whole thing being your idea.”

Your confession has Taehyun looking like a deer in headlights— it’s enough to make you laugh, easing the tense mood as he asks you how you knew.

“I had my suspicions from the very beginning,” you say, pausing for a second before you add cheekily, “And, Beomgyu told me.”

“Ah,” he mumbles, biting his lip as he tries to smile at you, “Sorry I lied.”

“Don’t be. It’s interesting that you chose to cover for him,” you say, returning the awkward smile as you add, “I should be the one sorry. For slapping the shit out of you.”

The two of you laugh— though, it’s a bit tense, and a silence falls between you two after.

“You… met Beomgyu? At that club?” He asks after a moment, watching the way you nod without hesitation. 

“Yeah. He was sixteen, I made sure to kick him out and warn him once I saw how his worried mother came looking for him. And it worked, for like two years. Then…” 

“Then Jin’s club opened.”

You raise a brow at his words, pausing in surprise before you’re nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, then Seokjin’s club opened,” you repeat slowly, frowning at the way he already knew, “Beomgyu found himself involved there, and it wasn’t long before his mother came to FightX looking for him. Jin’s club wasn’t as shady— I mean, compared to FightX, that place was like a church. I knew I didn’t have much to worry about, but I still decided to train him for a while… just to be safe.”

Taehyun sees the way your eyes are filled with nostalgia, a soft smile forming on your face from the memories.

“That’s kinda how I ended up where I am now. I could only drag Beomgyu back to his house so many times before his mother started treating me like family too,” meeting Taehyun’s gaze, you’re surprised to see him listening to you intently— it has you tensing slightly, not realizing how much you’ve revealed about yourself until now. 

“So,” you start, clearing your throat awkwardly from the way Taehyun’s gaze sears into you intensely, “What’s your story? How’d you end up in this scene?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing interesting,” Taehyun waves you off, though you refuse to be the only one delving into their personal life as you press Taehyun for details, “Seriously, it’s pretty normal.”

“Well, tell me anyways,” you say softly, tilting your head as you send Taehyun a challenging look, “Might as well get to know each other, if we’re spending so much time together.”

The way he laughs softly at your mocking comment is slightly contagious— and though you pretend otherwise, you notice the bittersweet look on his face as he reaches for the bottle of soju, pouring himself a shot for the first time in a while before he offers you one; with a slight laugh, you accept it. 

“I got into mma with a friend of mine— gave me lessons, sparred with each other, all that fancy stuff. We were really close, and getting into this hobby together only made us closer,” he laughed softly at his words, his mind filled with memories as he stared down at the table, “And now… Well. He’s not around anymore. Passed away less than a year ago.”

You frown softly at the way he pours himself another shot— the grief on his face is still fresh, you realize, his gaze hardening as he places the shot cup back down. 

“Without him, I felt… lost. I didn’t really know what to do with myself— after a while, I mostly felt angry.” His finger traces around the rim of the cup, slow and steady as he takes a moment to pause, “I hated that feeling. So, I tried finding the next best outlet, and found a few underground clubs. That’s how I met Beomgyu.”

The air is tense from his story; you’ve never been the best at comforting, so you find yourself unsure of what to do. After a moment, Taehyun laughs, taking in your tense expression with amusement, and it’s only then that your eyes fall onto the dimple that digs into his cheeks cutely. 

“God, I’m sure he’d go nuts if he knew the shit I got myself into,” he says, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head, “I’m not sure if he’d want to stop the fight or get front row seats— hell, probably the latter.”

Taehyun is quick to pick up on the glint of amusement in your eyes— he’s just as quick to reach for the soju bottle and pour the two of you another shot, the air much lighter than it was a moment ago as you watch him give you a bright smile, the sight unusual for you as you find yourself giving him an unsure one in return. 

“We only have three days left,” Taehyun says, bringing his glass up, watching the way you shake your head in amusement, “Let’s keep up the hard work, noona.”

“Don’t call me that.” You grimace, clinking your glass with his before you’re both downing the liquid—though you can’t help the slight smile that tugs at your lips in amusement, watching as Taehyun slowly becomes more open with you as you let him finish the bottle— I have to drive, idiot, you told him with a sneer, pushing the bottle back to him when he pouted that he shouldn’t be drinking alone. 

Taehyun is oddly light—and lightweight— though, not light enough for you to be tugging along back to your car, grimacing at the way he stumbles and knocks into you drunkenly.

“Noona,” he said to you, his words slow as he smiled at the way you snapped at him to not call you that, “Noona, you think I’ll win?”

“Fuck, I hope so,” you grumble, finding your car in the now-filled abandoned parking lot that was close to Jin’s, “It would be a huge fucking waste of time if you didn’t.”

“Okay then,” Taehyun pouts, pushing you away from him and walking off to his own car, only for you to tug him back to your own as you tell him he shouldn’t drive like this, “Why would I wanna be stuck in the car with someone who acts like such a bitch?”

“I act like a bitch because I care,” you bark, opening the car door and shoving him carelessly, only to watch as he turns back to look at you with that same, stupid, patronizing smile. 

“If you say so,” he says, his cheeks a bit flushed as he leans back towards you, “Nooooo...na.”

Your reaction is immediate— he feels as though the punch you land on his arm is enough to sober him, rubbing the sore area with a drunken pout.

“Get in the damn car.”

⊹⊹⊹

You currently stand outside FightX. There’s an hour left before the match.

You pace around in worry, unable to stand still as you hear the ruckus of the club and it’s awaiting patrons inside. Your brows are knitted in a deep frown and you can’t fight the way you bite your lip anxiously as you walk around in restless circles, over and over as you’re left in deep thought. 

“Stop that, you’re making me dizzy,” a voice calls out, snapping you out of your daze as you watch Taehyun walk up with a leisurely smile on his face— the sight is almost unnerving, his mood a complete opposite from yours as you watch him adjust the strap of his bag on his shoulder, taking a moment before he’s standing before you. 

“Aren’t you nervous?” You ask, watching as he simply shakes his head without hesitation, “you’d be stupid not to be— although, that does make sense…”

“Hey,” he says, lips pressed into a line as he frowns at you, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t degrade me before the match. You’re messing up my concentration.” 

“Right. Of course,” you huff out, looking away and missing the way that Taehyun smiles, taking in your jittery figure with amusement— his expression is immediately dropping the moment you look back at him, and he’s mentally cursing at himself for suddenly being so weird. 

“Are you gonna make me workout before the match or something? Why are we here so early?” He asks, tilting his head and taking in your attire slowly; it’s not what you wear when you train him, but it’s still light and athletic as he raises a brow at your apparel, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to wear my energy out just yet.”

“I’m not making you do anything, I just needed you to be here so you could get into the right mindset.” you say, and your response is enough to leave Taehyun silent as he stares at you; it’s odd, and you find yourself unnerved by his analytic stare. “What? What’s wrong with you now?”

“Are you worried?” He asks, his question sudden as he takes a step toward you— startled, you try your best to remain unfazed, resisting the urge to take a step back as you take in his sudden proximity.

“Worried? About what?” You say, your responses much too curt to seem natural; mentally, you’re cursing at yourself for feeling so odd, unable to hide what you’re thinking as well as you usually are— especially under Taehyun’s scrutinizing gaze. 

“Worried…. That I’ll lose?” He says, leaning in slightly to get a better look at your face; you refuse to pull away, looking into his eyes and keeping your expresion blank despite how close he is— his scent is invading your senses, oddly alluring as you finally get a good look at the man before you, “Or… no.” 

Another pause. You don’t know what Taehyun might say next, but judging by the way his lips twitch with the hint of a smile, you know you won’t like it. 

“Maybe… worried I’ll get hurt?”

Your eye twitches. 

“Hmm. Okay,” he says, quick to catch your small reaction as he backs away, a smug smile on his face— you frown, wondering what he might be insinuating as you send him an incredulous look. 

“Okay? Okay what?” You say, watching as Taehyun chooses to remain silent— his sudden refusal to speak to you has you far more annoyed than you’d like, slapping his arm and telling him to look at you, irked by the way he deliberately ignores your request and looks around in wonder, “Okay what? Of course I’m concerned!” 

Your sudden confession has Taehyun’s gaze snapping back to yours. 

“If The Cobra takes you out, we lose. And if we lose,” you pause, taking in Taehyun’s expression— he’s bewildered, mouth slightly parted as he listens to your irritated words— “If we lose… seriously, will you stop looking at me like that?”

“If we lose…” he repeats slowly, and your frown only deepens in response, “You said we.” 

“Yeah…?”

“You’re… coaching me?” 

“No, I’m getting front row seats and betting against you,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and smacking Taehyun’s bicep in annoyance, “Yes, I’m coaching you. Wouldn’t be here wasting my time if I wasn’t.”

The way Taehyun’s eyes are sparkling under the lights is slightly creepy— you don’t think you’ve even seen such a genuine expression on him before, and you can only take a step back in uncertainty as Taehyun smiles at you; a genuine, soft smile. 

“Right, it’s just…” he pauses, clearing his throat before he’s reaching towards you to return the hit you gave him moments ago— though it’s a bit stiff, and you’re raising a brow at the action as you watch Taehyun carefully, “Haven’t had a coach in a while.”

Oh.

You’re sure the thought shows on your face, the reminder of Taehyun’s past life coming back to the forefront of your mind with a slight pang of guilt— though Taehyun doesn’t let you dwell on it, making fun of your face and prodding at you with enough annoying comments that you have to meditating to not slap the shit out of him. 

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll beat you before your match even starts,” you hiss, your threat enough of an incentive to get him off your back, “Yoongi and Sooyoung are coming as well. We’ll wait for them before we go in.”

“Are they really?” Taehyun asks, and you simply nod in response— the thought of Sooyoung watching him fight wasn’t exactly pleasant, and he finds himself thinking back to the nickname you gave her in the ring, “Joy… what an odd name. Did you ever get a title back here? I don’t think you ever mentioned it.”

“Because I didn’t have one,” you huff, rolling your eyes at the way he seems surprised by that, “My name was enough intimidation for them.”

Wowww, Taehyun cooed, the patronizing gesture enough to have you reaching to smack him on instinct— though it seems as though your move was too predictable for him, flinching out of the way with ease and continuing to send you that stupid smug smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued to try and provoke you. 

“If you two are done with this weird tension, we’d like to go in now,” the look Yoongi sends you is enough to have your face heating up with embarrassment, unsure of what he might mean with his words as you shake your head in annoyance— grabbing Taehyun’s elbow, you lead him down the steps, watching as Yoongi and Sooyoung follow behind with teasing eyes. 

“Yoongi, did you have to bring your men along? It’s already crowded enough in there as it is,” you groan, your head beginning to ache at the sight of the packed club— Yoongi simply scoffs, telling you better safe than sorry as he gestures for the two of you to go inside. 

“Go find Minho,” Yoongi nudges you, and you nod firmly at his words, “Make sure to let him know we are also here.”

If you insist, you mumble, ready to go off before you feel Sooyoung grab onto your elbow, tugging you back to get your attention— the moment your eyes meet, she sends you a bright smile, pairing it with a thumbs up as she squeezes your arm in reassurance.

“You got this!” She says, letting you go and watching as you weave through the crowd with Taehyun in tow. 

“You think we’ll win?” Yoongi mutters in Sooyoung’s ear, watching the way her smile tenses a bit. 

“I prayed a little yesterday.”

⊹⊹⊹

“…from what I remember, he’s very straightforward; very serious— spends a good couple of minutes gauging what kind of fighter you are before he strikes. I need you to be careful during this match, okay? Fight with your brain, not just your fists.”

You’ve been talking Taehyun’s ear off for an impressively long time. Taehyun didn’t think it was possible to see you like this, restless and fidgety as you followed him into the locker to give him a pep talk. There was ten minutes left before the fight.

“Relax, I got this,” Taehyun says, and he’s greeted with an unamused look of yours in return, “I didn’t watch you and Joy beat the hell out of each other for nothing, you know.”

The mention of your matches with Sooyoung is enough to have you cringing; while it was good for Taehyun to get a grasp of what you and Yoongi might’ve taught Jongseong and vice-versa, it wasn’t as good to leave sore after each training day you spent with him.

“Can’t believe I did that,” you mutter to yourself, leaning against the lockers behind you in dismay. Though by the way you can hear Taehyun laugh at you mockingly, you know he picked up on it as well. 

“You care more than you let on, noona,” he smiles, your eye twitching at the name; you have yet to get used to this sudden formality, and Taehyun is clearly taking advantage of it, judging by the way his smile only widens with your every reaction. 

“Noona?” The source of the voice is from someone you’d never forget; both you and Taehyun are looking over at the entrance in an instant, and you can feel your eyes widen as you take in the way Jongseong stands there, much more grown than the last time you saw him. 

“Oh. Hi,” you grit out awkwardly, cringing at how tense you sound.

“Hi? Is that all you have to say?” He asks, walking toward you without hesitation; his hair is black and slicked back neatly, a stark contrast to the messy brown hair he could never bother to style when he was younger, “it’s been three years, you disappeared without a trace!”

You’re not sure what he’s going to do as he approaches you in a hurry— hug you, maybe— because he pauses, taking in the sight of Taehyun sitting in front of you, his eyes narrowing as he takes a moment to take the man in.

“You’re…” he pauses, brows furrowing as he goes deep in thought for a second, “Taehyun.”

Taehyun’s name falls from his lips with pure disdain; Jongseong is looking between you and him, his face dropping with disappointment as everything begins to click together in his mind.

“I was hoping Minho was lying,” Jongseong mutters, taking a step back from you as he meets your eyes; he no longer holds the same, wide and nostalgic gaze that greeted you when you first saw him. Instead, it’s cold and scathing, a reflection of the dangerous man you’re preparing Taehyun to face in the ring. 

“You’re coaching him, then?” He asks, and all you can do is nod as you take in the anger in his eyes, wondering what lies Minho has been feeding him to look at Taehyun with such hatred, “I see.”

He’s backing away from you. You feel as though you’re losing him all over again as you watch his eyes turn to you, filled with nothing but restless anger as he sends you a vicious smile. 

“Try not to lose another one, noona,” he says, feigning a pout as he takes in the way your jaw clenches at his words. His eyes flicker over to Taehyun, pleased to find that his jab seems to have affected him, as well, “Good luck. You’ll definitely need it.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, waving you off before he’s out of sight. It’s quiet, and you’re unsure of what to say now that it’s just the two of you. Sighing, you look back at Taehyun, only to see that his eyes were already on you. 

You gulp. 

Taehyun has never looked this angry; his jaw is clenched and his brows are furrowed as he leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs as he jerks his head side to side— the cracks of his neck have you wincing, though you don’t think he cares, his lips pressing together for a moment before he breaks out into a breathy laugh. 

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a smile spreading across his face, fangs dangerous as he bites his lip in a failed attempt to suppress it. 

“I can’t wait to fuck him up.”

⊹⊹⊹

The place is packed. 

It’s deafening as you make your way to the cage, Taehyun stuck to your side as the patrons make a path for you; you try not to tense at the feeling of Taehyun’s hand on your waist, pulling you in and keeping you away from the men that stare at you with a disgusting hunger. 

Their excitement is deafening. It makes your head pound and your concentration waver, jolting into Taehyun from the way people try to reach out for you— the call of your name by old regulars isn’t lost on you, but you try to grit your teeth and ignore it. 

“They’re here for you,” Taehyun muses quietly, leaning into you so you can hear him. You scoff, shaking your head as you finally reach the cage’s entrance; Jongseong is already inside, waiting.

“They’re here for you,” you say, watching as Taehyun unzips his jacket and hands it to you; he grins at that, and you’re scolding him to put in his mouthpiece so he can’t come up with a stupid comeback. 

“Go get ‘em tiger,” you grin, watching as Taehyun can only shake his head in amusement. Your eyes flicker back to where Jeongseong stands, chatting idly with his own coach— your expression turns grim at the sight of Minho giving him tips with a bright smile. 

Your hands are warm as you reach out to Taehyun; grabbing both sides of his face, cradling his jaw as you’re pulling him in towards you boldly— he’s slightly caught off guard by your action, eyes widening as he’s forced to remain silently and stare at you stupidly. 

“Light on your feet. Be calm. Preserve your energy,” you say to him, repeating all the tips you’ve given him through three curt sentences. He nods, and you nod along with him, slightly amused at the sight of him.

“You got this. I believe in you.”

You’re pushing him into the cage after that. 

The floor is scuffed and old. It’s nothing in comparison to Jin’s pristine cage, and Taehyun is finally beginning to take it all in as he looks out, the club packed and rowdy as he scans through the crowd; he spots Yoongi and Sooyoung, the two giving him a nod and a thumbs up the moment their eyes meet. 

“Tonight’s match looks quite interesting,” a voice booms out, and Taehyun looks over to the commentator’s table, able to recognize the two faces that beam back at him in excitement— Taemin and Kibum, if he remembers right. 

“Not only is it winner-takes-all, but we also seem to have a legend in our midst— if not, two,” Taemin’s smile is ear to ear as the crowd grows louder, and Taehyun is able to spot you shrinking slightly from the sudden attention. 

“The king and queen of FightX— sound familiar?” If the crowd’s reaction is any indication of their answer, then Taehyun would say yes. Kibum’s laugh echoes around the cage, and Taehyun feels overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“Not only that, but apparently she’s coaching this guy too!” Taemin and Kibum are off in their own world as they chatter, and Taehyun can’t help but wonder when the theatrics will end and the match will start. 

“Minho even seems to have stepped up for today— the best of the best, hmm?”

Minho is more than willing to indulge in all the fanfare; in the ring, Jongseong only rolls his eyes, clearly as impatient as Taehyun.

“Oooh, now now, we should probably stop,” Kibum grins, nudging Taemin playfully, “It looks like our fighters are getting restless.”

“Right, we should probably get on with it,” Taemin agrees, though the way they both continue to talk says otherwise, “This is what you all came to see, right?!”

More cheers. 

Taehyun has begun drowning everyone out at this point. Even when the referee steps inside and gestures for the two to come to him, he can’t bring himself to listen. Instead, he focuses, his eyes never straying from the man before him.

The Cobra seems to be just as concentrated as him. His gaze is dangerous and he’s restless as he shifts in front of Taehyun, lips twitching into a smile as the referee asks them to be courteous, to touch gloves. 

Neither of them move. 

Three rounds, he hears the referee remind them— then he’s stepping back, gauging their reactions before the loud bell rings out, signaling that the fight has begun. 

Jongseong moves immediately— but he doesn’t strike, and Taehyun’s eyes narrow at the way he remains in a low stance, swaying slightly as he remains on guard; his constant movement makes it difficult for Taehyun to hit him, and he’s left unamused at the way Jongseong seems to taunt and bluff with a mocking smile. 

He throws out meaningless jabs, not bothering to hit him properly as he continues to grin and mess around. This behavior is a strong contrast to the characteristics you warned him of; He keeps his fists close to his face, a complete opposite of Jongseong, who’s body remains relaxed.

Usually, Taehyun would see this as a weakness; he’s left unguarded, goading the audience that only seems to yell at Taehyun to do something— to take the bait. If anything, the way Jongseong smiles through his mouthpiece is enough to remind him of Sooyoung; confident, skilled, quick and agile enough that he can afford to keep his body open as a bluff. 

Taehyun throws a left hook as a test. Immediately, Jongseong is jumping back, dodging it and putting his hands up with such speed that Taehyun could’ve missed it if he blinked. Jongseong’s eyes narrow, and it seems as though he’s realized that Taehyun has caught on to his show tactics.

There’s no room to play around anymore. Jongseong seems to have thrown out any tactics to bait Taehyun, choosing to throw punch after punch instead, a slight form of bait on its own.

Taehyun could fight back. He could retaliate to the blows on his forearms and sides, could try to land a few kicks on the man before him and try to injure him. But he would also waste all his energy in the first round, potentially leaving him vulnerable to The Cobra’s attacks in later rounds. It’s clear that’s what he wants— Taehyun throws a punch here and there to make it seem as though he’s falling into the trap, but your words to preserve his energy ring out in his head all the while. 

The action to remain on defense makes Taehyun look like a coward. But he doesn’t really mind, especially with the way Jongseong grows cocky, a confident smile broad on his face as he lets his guard down slightly, laughing along to the scathing comments the audience throws at him. 

His rear hand falters for a second. And in that second, Taehyun is able to deliver a right hook, his padded fist colliding with Jongseong’s jaw and sending him stumbling off, the people roaring and drowning out the sound of the commentator’s ramblings. 

One minute on the clock, will he be able to get another hit in?! Taehyun is effortless to drown out Kibum’s cries, stepping back the moment Jeongseong is back on his feet— for a moment, the two circle each other, and Taehyun can see the way his opponent’s eyes scan him, mind rapidly thinking of a way to counter his most recent blow. 

Kibum is audibly disappointed at the sound of the first round ending. How uneventful, he mourns, and Taehyun is happy to see that you’ve made it into the cage, Minho trailing behind you as you both get a minute to talk. 

“Fuck, good job, that was a good hit,” you immediately say, grabbing Taehyun’s wrist and dragging him to your corner. His mouth is sore as he takes his mouthpiece out, taking slow drinks of the water bottle you hand him as he listens to you.

“He’s a lot more different now. Still agile, but it looks like he likes playing with his food now,” you say, wiping off the sweet that’s gathered on Taehyun’s skin gently; he feels oddly tense at the action, your tender gesture making his heart beat a little faster as he wonders instead if he’s finally beginning to get nervous from the match.

“He definitely knows you’re not one to play with now, but it’s still good to feed into it sometimes,” you pause, your hand stilling on his chest, the thin towel the only barrier between you as you look up at him sternly, “I know I said to preserve more energy, but get more hits out. He has really good stamina.”

Taehyun tries to sear your words into his head as the referee calls for them to get ready for the next round, the two of you exchanging a reassuring look before you’re off.

Like last time, Jongseong doesn’t seem too keen on being friendly before the match. 

Taehyun takes your advice quite seriously— though Jongseong is also able to get more hits on him this way, his bottom lip cracking open after a particularly rough punch. Jongseong, Taehyun realizes, mostly fights with his upper body. He’s quick on his feet and dodges hits easily, but Taehyun has yet to be pinned down or hit with a kick— he tries to keep this knowledge to himself, the next five minutes uneventful as the round ends without any memorable hits.

Could it be that The Cobra has met his match? Taemin mused into the mic, grinning at the way the crowd only booed in response. Ignore that, you muttered in his ear, rolling your eyes at the way the two commentators were still just as annoying as you remembered. 

“He only punches,” Taehyun comments, his brows furrowing as he looks over to Jongseong’s corner, “No kicks, clinches, anything. It’s odd.” 

“Because he’s saving it for the last round,” you tell him, reaching up to brush the hair from his forehead— you’re serious, trying your best to hide the worry on your face as you warn him, “I’m telling you— he likes to play with his food. Be extra careful, I’m sure he’ll try pulling something new on you.”

The referee calls the break to an end. Pressing your lips together, and you’re nodding as you step back to leave. 

“Go all in now. Everything you got, now’s the time to use it.”

The way Minho laughs as you meet him at the cage entrance has you scoffing; Taehyun can see the older man talking to you, though he’s unable to try and see what he’s saying as the referee calls the fighters to the center.

“Last round,” he reminds, placing a hand on both their shoulders, “Clean, fair fight, okay?”

Jongseong nods— then, he reaches forward, offering his gloves to Taehyun. 

The slight twitch of his lips is mischievous. Slowly, Taehyun does the same; their gloves touch softly, the commentators quick to point it out as the match begins. 

Jeongseong throws a punch instantly. 

It’s like a switch has been flipped in his mind. His eyes are filled with eager bloodlust and alight with adrenaline, throwing hit after hit at Taehyun with no signs of stopping. All Taehyun can do is defend himself, unable to get an opening as he’s forced to take the blows Jongseong delivers.

Taehyun thinks he might have an opening the moment the man backs up, hands going down and leaving him unguarded for a second— but as Taehyun throws out a punch, he’s met with a harsh kick to his side, shocking him and knocking him off balance as Jongseong quickly uses it to his advantage. 

He’s disoriented with how quickly Jongseong wraps around him; limbs tangled, arms around his neck in such a strong chokehold that Taehyun can already feel his head pounding. Is he gonna tap out? He can hear the commentators asking, forcing him to grit his teeth and throw punches at Jeongseong’s head and sides in an attempt to throw him off. 

It seems to work; he’s somehow landed a punch directly to his nose, and the man behind him is stunted by the blow, his hold faltering and giving Taehyun the opening he needed to escape. 

Quick to get up, Taehyun slowly catches his breath. Two minutes on the clock! He hears them yell. Jongseong has yet to get up, the blood dripping from his nose making his eyes widen in shock, watching as he struggles to stumble to his feet, still disoriented from the blow. 

Jongseong’s eyes meet Taehyun’s; he’s tired, a panting mess and reflection of him as he slowly makes his way to Taehyun, stumbling slightly and heavy on his feet as he winces— an easy finish. For a second, Taehyun can feel himself relax, the tension in his body releasing as he watches Jongseong carefully. 

Jongseong takes in Taehyun’s shift instantly— Taehyun is jumping back before he can process it, eyes widening at the way Jongseong aimed a right hook for him, the swing of his arm ripping through the air as he stumbles slightly from the lack of impact. 

Then, he’s knocked back.

Taehyun can barely process the way his body moved with such acute precision, spinning and twisting just as you taught him as he lands with no problem, the feeling of him colliding right into Jongseong oddly instinctual; he watches as the man jolts from the impact, his body stiffening and his eyes rolling back as he can only fall from the impact to his body— to his head. 

The sound of his body colliding against the floor is loud, Jongseong’s face blank as he simply lays there, eyelids flickering and mind swimming in and out of consciousness as the referee runs to him. 

After a moment, the winner is declared. 

Taehyun is unable to process anything— the sounds of the audience roaring, the feeling of his arm being thrust into the air, the sight of Jongseong lying on the ground still— he doesn’t process anything, eyes drifting around and looking for one thing like habit. 

There you are, face alight with joy as you cheer furiously. 

Taehyun laughs slightly— it’s a bit pained, and he winces at the feeling of his sore body, the referee finally letting go of his hand as he stumbles out towards the exit, and straight towards you, pulling his mouth guard out with a wince.

“You did it!” You grin, your voice clear as day, even through the bewildered chatter of the rest as you wave him over. “Fuck, you really did it!”

Taehyun thinks you might hit him again, like you always do; instead, he feels you grab his face, your own alight with euphoria as you tug him into you and crash your lips against his— he barely has enough time to process things before you’re pulling away, your expression sobering as you take in what you just did. 

“Hey!” Yoongi calls out, attempting to weave through the crowd as you turn around to the source of the distraction, “Find Minho, make sure he doesn’t try to slip away!” 

“Right,” you respond, turning back to look at Taehyun— he’s left frozen and bewildered as he looks at you, mouth slightly agape as you feel a heat rush to your face. 

He attempts to call after you, but you’re slipping away before he can get you to stay.

He can still feel the ghost of your lips against his.

⊹⊹⊹

“You guys are insane,” Beomgyu huffs, laying back in his bed with a slight wince, “My mother would be mortified if she found out what you did to get this money.”

“It’s a shame we had to get it at all,” you say, glaring at Beomgyu and watching as he shrinks under your gaze, muttering a quiet sorry, sorry in response. Sighing, you shake your head, taking in Beomgyu’s condition with a smile, “you know, after all these expenses, I think we might just have a bit left over.”

“We could go on a trip,” Beomgyu says without hesitation, and you shake your head in amusement. 

“Focus on getting better first,” you scold, smiling at the way Beomgyu lets out a yes ma’am! In response, “I need to go. Visiting hours are over.”

“I’m supposed to get discharged in two days, don’t forget me!” He calls out, and you choose to ignore it as you exit, stopping in your tracks as you close the door behind you softly.

The last thing you expected was to see Taehyun waiting for you, patched up and changed as he leaned against the wall.

“Hey,” you smile, albeit a bit awkward— he says nothing, and you clear your throat, nodding back to the room behind you nervously, “Visiting hours are over. Uhm, maybe come back tomorrow?”

“I’m not here to see him,” he says, raising a brow at the way you only send him a confused look, “I’m here to see you.”

“And what could you possibly want from me?” Your steps are brisk as you begin to walk back to the exit; Taehyun is just as quick behind you, trying to get your attention to no avail.

“What do you mean what could I possibly want? You’re not one to act stupid, noona,” he says, hot on your trail as you finally make it outside. 

You know he’s right— and yet, you feel terribly awkward about it, refusing to look back at him as you begin to wonder where you could have parked, wandering around the quiet lot— you’re a few feet away from your car when Taehyun grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks and turning you around harshly, his eyes angry as he looks at you.

“You kissed me.”

“What?” You say, trying to shake his hold off as you look up at him with shining, innocent eyes, your right one twitching for a second, “What is this, some kind of adrenaline-induced hallucination? Don’t be weird.”

“Hallucination—” he’s in disbelief as he begins cornering you, your back pressing flat against the driver’s door as he practically towers over you, his free hand planted by your head and caging you in, “The way you felt against me felt very real.”

You gulp. This was weird— this was new, something that you definitely had not accounted for, because as you stare at Taehyun, his gaze intense and his face inches away from yours, you can’t help but feel your face heat up. 

“It’s— it meant nothing,” you stutter out, heart pounding at the way he very clearly doesn’t believe you, “I wasn’t even thinking, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It meant nothing?” He whispers, his voice low and breathy as he leans in even closer; your eyes are shutting from how close he is, able to feel his breath fan across your cheeks as he lets out a soft laugh, “If it meant nothing, then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been—”

“I don’t appreciate you lying to me, noona.”

You’re silent. Your breaths are shaky, lips parted as you wait for him to say something. 

After a second, his lips press against yours. 

For a second, it’s gentle; unsure, waiting for you to pull away and tell him to leave you alone— instead, you let out a breathy sigh, your lips beginning to move against his.

The moment you reciprocate is the moment he loses control. His hands are coming up to your face, cupping your jaw tenderly and tilting your head up to him, his lips needy and messy as he pries your mouth open, tongue prodding at your mouth before he’s pulling away to sink his teeth into your soft lips— the pained whine you let out has his mind reeling. 

You’re breathless and dazed by the time he finally pulls away— you think you can feel your knees go weak at the sight of a string of saliva connecting between the two of you, watching as he smiles at you cruelly, his gaze dark and hazed as his thumb runs across your bottom lip fondly.

“I won just for you,” he breathes out, eyes darkening from the way your tongue runs across the pad of his finger mindlessly.

“Don’t you think I deserve a reward for working so hard?”

⊹⊹⊹

Taehyun’s apartment is nice— well, at least you think. You didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at it. 

However, you can confidently say that his bed is nice— you practically sink into the soft mattress, the once neatly done sheets beneath you now a mess from the way you’re squirming under Taehyun.

All he’s done is kiss you— yet, you feel so terribly fucked out and needy, unable to keep your hands off him for even a second, your fingers weaved into his hair and tugging as you feel him moan into your mouth. 

“Even now you’re so fucking mean,” he hisses, feeling the way your nails rake down his back; leaving a red trail against his skin, his shirt discarded long ago as he currently worked to get you to do the same. “Shit, I just got out of a match, noona.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you pant, and Taehyun frowns above you as you begin to pull away, “poor baby is too hurt to fuck—”

“I didn’t say that,” he groans, and you’re surprised by the way he takes a hold of your shoulders and pushes you back down into the mattress firmly. He takes this moment to tug your shirt up, throwing it in some random direction before he’s smiling at the sight of you, “Fuck, you have such a smart mouth.”

“Guess it rubbed off,” you say, your words wavering pathetically mid-way, all from the feeling of Taehyun biting and sucking at your neck ruthlessly while his hands came up to feel your breasts, slipping under the fabric and circling your nipples teasingly. 

“Yeah? I taught you that?” He asks, nipping at your skin and taking off your bra with swift hands, “Maybe I should teach you how to be good for me then.”

You’re unable to gather your thoughts and bite back— his mouth is sucking at your nipples messily, tongue making a show of it as he groans at the feeling and traces shapes on your skin, too focused on the messy teasing to notice the moment his hand slips past your waistband and cups your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet for me noona,” he sighs, middle finger running up and down your slit teasingly, feeling the way you practically soak through your panties, “This wet for me already?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you grumble, mouth falling open at the way he begins prodding your entrance teasingly, pushing into your hole then going to circle your clit slowly over the fabric. 

Taehyun laughs. The way you refuse to submit to him isn’t surprising in the slightest, watching as you refuse to give him reactions with dark eyes, trained carefully onto your face as he feels you get wetter from his motions, taking in what works and what doesn’t simply from the way your face reacts— even if you try to hide it, much to his annoyance. 

“What’s wrong noona? Don’t you feel good?” He asks you quietly, his hands already dragging your pants off agonizingly slowly, biting his lip to suppress the smile that threatens to break through, far too amused by this strong front you seem to put up, “I’ll do better then, don’t worry.”

Taehyun is sinking down to his stomach before you can process anything, hands running along your thighs teasingly before they’re hooking under your knees— lifting them up, pressing them against your stomach, able to look down at your glistening pussy with ease. 

You’re scrambling to hold on to something the moment he gets his mouth on you— he’s pressing you into the mattress, willing to control the way your hips jump as he presses his tongue flat against your slit, drinking up your wetness and teasing the tip of his tongue along your fluttering hole. The moans you let out are pathetic and embarrassing, your face heating up as you begin to squirm the moment Taehyun wraps his lips around your clit, face buried in your pussy and hair soft tickling against your thighs as he eats you out. 

The sounds are enough to make you cover your face— Taehyun is shameless as he eats you out, slurping and sucking and moaning against your cunt loudly— it’s almost as though he were doing it on purpose. 

“Taehyun, Taehyun, fuuuck…!” You can’t control your mouth— the sound of his name coming from your lips is enough to make Taehyun moan more against your pussy, cock rutting into the mattress below him as he listens to the sounds you make intently, smiling against your cunt at the sight of you finally breaking under him.

You feel dizzy— the way Taehyun fucks you with his tongue has you whining stupidly, his hand leaving your leg and coming to circle your clit as he continues to fuck you— after a moment, he decides he’s had enough of your squirming under him, his hands reaching to cup your ass before he’s pulling you back into him; your legs are falling over his shoulders, and his face is pressed against your pussy as he grants you no escape.

His grip is bruising on your skin; your thighs close around his head, but he pays no mind to it as he continues to lick at your pussy, gathering your arousal on his tongue before he’s looking back up at you with innocent round eyes, showing it off to you and forcing you to watch as he lets it drip back onto your cunt. 

It’s all so messy and overwhelming; you don’t even register the moment you cum on his tongue, your mind going blank and your body relaxing under his hold as he lets you ride out your orgasm, his tongue eager to lick up your release as he lets out soft hums against your cunt. 

“Taehyun,” you whimper out weakly, fingers weaving into his hair and tugging at it in order to get him to stop his ministrations— you can hear him complaining to you softly as he refuses to give in, the soft whine of his name only making him want to give you another orgasm— you have to tug harder on his hair to pull him from you, his lips and chin shining with your arousal as he smiles coyly at your reaction; his tongue darts out to lick his lips, wiping at his chin before he’s coming back up to hover over you. 

“What happened baby? Just wanted to make you feel good,” He tuts softly, grinning at the way you struggle to come down from your bliss. You don’t seem to realize the moment he’s become completely bare, the feeling of his cock poking at your inner thighs making your snap back to reality, feeling the tip smudge his precum all over your skin as he leans down to kiss you; it’s slow and messy, and he’s eager to push you lips apart and allow you to taste yourself, cradling your jaw as you feel him smile against your lips.  

“Why don’t you be quiet for a second? I like you more that way.” the way he frowns at your words has you breaking out into a teasing smile, running your fingers through his hair as you laugh softly— though it quickly falters the moment you feel him rubbing against your slit, his tip running up and down and catching on your clit as your body jolts from the sensation.

“Noona, do you hate me?” He pouts at you, watching as you fail to formulate proper words from the way his tip prods at your entrance, teasingly beginning to stretch you before he pulls out. This continues for a moment, and it’s clear he’s waiting for a response you clearly refuse to give him; frowning, he continues his motions, slowly rutting against your pussy as he looks down at you with sharp eyes, watching as you whine at him to stop teasing— he shakes his head, telling you to answer him, his voice sharp and low as he tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that has you stuttering your response out weakly.

“N—no.”

“Then why are you so mean to me?” He continues, tilting his head as he finally pushes the tip in; he watches your expression carefully, drinking up the way your brows furrow and your eyes become glossy. 

“I… your reactions are cute,” you admit, clenching around Taehyun tightly and watching the way he hisses at the feeling. 

“Yeah? They’re cute?” He repeats, straightening up and kneeling as he looks down at you. Your fucked out expression could make Taehyun come on the spot, but instead he grabs a hold of your waist, settling in between your legs and pulling you in close to him. 

He’s inside you with one swift push; the yelp you let out is embarrassing and you’re quickly slapping a hand over your mouth, eyes fluttering at the sensation of Taehyun fully inside you, thick and twitching wildly. Taehyun takes your hand away immediately; his fingers are lacing with yours, and he’s smiling sweetly as he looks down at you. 

“I think your reactions are cute too,” he’s moving after that, his thrusts slow and deep as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You’re holding tightly onto him as moans and whines fall from you, the sounds only fueling Taehyun further as he slowly begins to fuck you faster. 

“Feels nice, noona?” He groans, eyes trained on the way your tits bounce with his every thrust. The way you refuse to admit to him how good he’s making you feel has him rolling his eyes, letting go of your hand and gripping your hips before he’s bringing you back into him, bottoming out and rolling his hips slowly into your cunt as he feels the way you tighten around him, his cock taking in every flutter of your walls around him as he lets out pleased sighs. 

“What, too embarrassed to admit that it’s me making you feel good?” He asks, biting his lip as he concentrates on not coming too soon from the way you squeeze him, “You didn’t seem embarrassed when you kissed me in front of all those people earlier.”

“It was in the heat of the moment…” you answer back pitifully, unable to hide the way you can barely speak from the way he fucks you. 

“Hmm, okay. If you say so,” he hums, and you’re not given room to fight back as he goes back to fucking you— careless, pulling you back into him, enjoying your sounds with a wicked smile, unable to take his eyes off you for a moment. 

The moment his hand slips to rub circles on your clit, you feel your mind go blank— the sounds you make has Taehyun cursing under his breath, the feeling of your walls clenching around him and sucking him in driving him mad as he gets a hold of your thighs, pressing them against your body and putting you into a mating press as he continues to fuck you.

“Tae— Taehyun, ah, please,” you whine out, left defenseless to the way his hips slam against yours, losing his pace and letting out soft groans as he feels himself coming at the sound of your whines of his name— his cum is barely able to stay inside with the way he continues fucking you, cock rutting into your sensitive pussy as you whine at him to slow down. 

“Wanna see you do that again,” he mumbles, eyes flicking up to gauge your expression, “Like, a few more times.”

Your pussy tightens around him in response, and he has to bite his lip to suppress the moan that bubbled up his throat. After a second, he’s slowly fucking you again, feeling his cock harden inside you from the sight of his cum escaping you with every thrust.

You don’t know how many times he makes you cum after that— you might’ve blacked out halfway through, Taehyun’s obsession with making you come undone leaving you filled with cum and undeniably sore— he’s insatiable, leaving you a mess under him as you let him use you how he’d like, manhandling you into all sorts of positions as he continues to groan about how good you feel, reassuring you just one more, with your every whine, yet lying each time. 

You’re only able to think straight once you’ve found yourself pulled into Taehyun’s chest— the rise and fall of your bodies is relaxing, and you don’t even remember Taehyun cleaning the both of you up as you lie under his covers, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you very much welcomed. 

“So, did this also mean nothing to you?” Taehyun mumbles into the crown of your head, nuzzling into your scent as he struggles to stay awake. 

“No. This definitely meant something,” you say, equally as tired as you burrow further into the warmth of his chest. You can hear the deep rumble of his chuckles above you, his hands running across your back soothingly as he speaks. 

“And what did it mean?”

A pause. You think you both know what it means, but you won’t give him the satisfaction as you nip at his skin teasingly. 

“Means you’re okay, I guess.”

You refuse to admit that Taehyun has you wrapped around his finger— though it’s definitely reciprocated by the way Taehyun laughs at your comment, pulling you in even closer still and cooing jokingly that you looove me, hmm?

God, even now, he was insufferable.

But you kinda liked that about him. 

[some-thrilling-heroics]

Sex workers are still real people no matter what you tell yourself and it's creepy as hell to take issue with that statement.

you are the one bringing up sex workers into this conversation and i don't get why. do i need to say it to make you feel better? yes sex workers are people, yes they should have rights and be respected. yes sex work should be legal and protected by the law. and so what? how does that affect the point that - in words of the op:

How you treat fictional characters, given they are entirely objects of fiction, does NOT necessarily speak to your own character, and you do not need to be "careful".

It is not dangerous to imagine dark things happening to fictional characters. It does not mean you are secretly a bad person. It does not mean you unconsciously want to hurt people in real life. It is not a "slippery slope" to doing bad things to people in real life. You cannot damage your brain or turn yourself into a bad person by consuming "dark" fanfic.

it was you who balked at people acting "as if porn = fiction". it was you who started talking about sex workers.

you know that fiction depicts a thing people did not do, right?

what if fiction can be abt things people do? what then?

fiction can be about elves and dragons, and it can be abt car thieves. or it can be abt being hot and bothered about the milk man. some of these also happen to coincide with what exists irl and i think that's where the miscommunication comes from.

you are adamant abt bringing real people into the conversation abt fiction so eh. an actor wearing a historically accurate costume or a prosthetic to make them look like an alien had to walk around on set and wave a sword around or whatever. somebody DID THAT. if that is an actor in their birthday suit in bedroom, that to me changes little. actors kiss. there are sex scenes outside of porn too and yes they were acted out by real people making noises and thrusting hips and shit - it's still not real.

The Dungeons & Dragons movie is not a documentary.

porn isn't either.

Porn features real people really doing a real thing (sex) in the real world.

beg to differ here. it's a performance. i don't assume shit abt the person im watching. they may seem excited and what not but that doesn't tell me shit what the actual person, the actor is excited by (in fact i don't want to know bc it's none of my business). that's kinda the point of acting. did you watch any interviews abt shooting sex scenes? abt shooting actual porn films? that's them putting on a performance and not how they do things irl.

if i pay a real life person to fuck me and we go to a restaurant as part of the agreed experience i am not naive enough to think they give a shit abt me. and i am fine with that. it would be shitty of me to expect anything like that from them and *then* that would be a problem.

similarly, a person putting a tiktok up of how they are so cute as they sleepily roll out of bed is not doing real things, they stage it. they put on a show. like, there is a difference? can you not see that? that is also fiction. yes we have beds and shit irl, and you and i also roll out of our beds and maybe the line is more clear when it's a story abt kings and dragons.... but it's still fiction. it's curated to appeal.

I don't think, "Ah yes, my blorbos, Jeff, Jessica and Julie, back to complete their character arcs! Excellent, I wanted closure on their narrative!" I think, "that is a man masturbating. That is an amateur couple who turned on a camera whilst banging."

i don't expect porn to have that level of depth (lol) and a lot of sfw shows and movies these days don't bother with satisfying closure to their narratives. yes i know you were absurd on purpose but like, please. nobody is arguing that.

i don't get the appeal of somebody filming themself and putting it online but to each their own *shrugs* but i refer you to the above abt staging. porn is a fantasy. whether it's a pizza delivery opening line or somebody licking toilets for clicks.

A real person putting on a performance is still a real person.

performance is fiction.

and what is this post abt again? it's abt us doing whatever we want with a fictional characters and it not reflecting who we are as people. because they are fiction.

A cartoon is not a real person.

guess what, a real person is voicing that character. now what?

to wrap this up: it says absolutely nothing abt how im going to treat real people if i enjoy gore and mutilating my blorbos until they are sobbing bloody messes. i may enjoy rape fantasies and even watch porn with that. that tells you nothing on whether or not i will say good morning to a cashier or punch a homeless person.

bringing up sex workers starts an entirely separate conversation bc as much as i would hate to hear that there were no safety measures when actors were filming a car crash scene or something else dangerous, the same way i wouldn't want the porn i happen to watch to in fact involve human trafficking victims. but i would hope we can all see how those are two very different conversations to have, right?

and just a side note:

Also, uh, what porn are you watching?

this comes off very judgy and condescending, so fuck you.

I really think everyone needs to truly internalize this:

Fictional characters are objects.

They are not people. You cannot "objectify" them, because they have no personhood to be deprived of. They have no humanity to be erased. You cannot "disrespect" them, because they are not real.

[steelycunt]

ridi ridi hiiii !!! how are youuu how was yr dayyy i started mine off by rereading yr otiofad ficc did you know every sentence in it is a masterpiece did you know every word is like worthy of an auditoriumesque applause now yk i wanted to ask you to talk about that particular bit tho (if you wouldn't mind ofc !!) where sirius slams the book shut on an insect bc it's sooo like it's sooo !! it reads like premonition and also like r can't help but be wary of s and s can't help but be just like capable of harm regardless of intention & carelessly and i think it's sooo genius I think yr soooo genius for that and if you have more to say abt what that bit meant to youu + process of writing it + foreshadowing you wanted to get across w it etc. etc. i would be vv interested to hear <333 mwah love you loads xx

hello my lovely omg!!! my day was GOOD actually surprisingly good i am recovering from my illnesses and i played badminton and ate tangerines it was a very content day!! how was yours!! also warning you now in advance i wrote way too long a reply to this. like WAY too long NOBODY needed this im so sorry!! the very final paragraph provides like a little tl;dr you DO NOT need to read the essay that is under the cut!! im so sorry!!

okay firstly the idea that someone would not only read one of my little stories but read it more than once?? crazy actually!! insane!! so glad that it could be a part of ur morning n i would love to talk abt it!! hang on opening it in a new tab rn let me remember what it was i actually wrote huh lol

firstly with the flashback scenes in otiofad in general they had to serve two different purposes. they obviously needed to show the intense love and intimacy between the boys prior to The Incident, in order to juxtapose the post-prank scenes and serve as a marker for measuring the size of the rift in their relationship that its caused (which is why theres lots of kissing and cuddling and cloying monologues in the flashback scenes), but at the same time they had to demonstrate the little parts of their relationship which are a little bit fucked! a little bit unhealthy and obsessive. and they had to portray sirius as a person who has the capacity to do what he ends up doing. i didnt want to accidentally work against myself by over-idealizing their relationship to the point where it became difficult to believe sirius could be so thoughtless as to do what he does. like if ive just made you read fifteen hundred words of him being the Best Boyfriend Ever and then switch to him begging forgiveness for an attempted murder, his character becomes a little disjointed, and i really wanted it to feel like you're consistently reading the same people, just in very different circumstances. so the flashbacks very much needed to stress their intensity rather than their health as a couple.

im definitely roaming beyond the parameters of your question (but i promise it all circles back xx) but some of the sort of. i dont want to say red flag as much as cause for concern moments that i tried to include especially in the flashbacks include for instance: [Sirius says that sort of thing often, and with a confidence that Remus cannot ever fathom. Good god, how he would like to ask Sirius, them or me, that or me, and never fear the answer.] in the first scene, because i think remus' low self-esteem and his insecurity definitely affects their relationship + how he perceives it, which isn't anyone's fault as much as it is just them being young and imperfect like. theyre like sixteen here nobody had it together when they were sixteen right :-/ you have sirius utterly utterly obsessed with being in love with remus declaring that he doesnt want anything else from life and he's. sixteen years old. he's got no idea. like its that sort of rashness and impulsivity when he's speaking and acting which ends up fucking him over :-/

TO GET BACK to the bit you actually asked about (im so sorry for how long this is <3) the part where he closes the book on the spider. i mean honestly ur interpretation in the ask is pretty spot on!! its another one of the little stitches in the flashback scenes that sort of...slightly changes/sobers/brings the tone back down the reality a little, after theyve spent most of the scene cuddling and kissing etc. i'd already sort of tried (and i want to emphasise try at every point in this answer sfdghsh because i am not necessarily claiming that any of this was necessarily successful lol) to show sirius' capacity for being rash and obsessive, and the spider moment was just this tiny act of unnecessary, arguably cruel? violence that was meant to be jarring against the very over-sweet and gentle affection he's just shown remus. and although theyre acts of violence on such different scales, he gives just as much thought to sending snape to the willow as he does to squashing the spider. one of the things about sirius that i love soooo much is his relationship with violence and the way his anger translates into violence and cruelty (which remus mentions in the final scene when he says “You’ve got to stop being the kind of person who hurts people when they’re angry.”). its why hes SO fun to write angry because his anger is so distinctive lol. so the spider moment is just meant to serve as a little reminder of this random, mindless aggression that sirius carries around with him and that exists in tandem with all the affection we've seen him show remus, who starts in surprise when sirius slams the book shut. (i'll let u in on a super little fun (or not) fact that in my head when i was writing it i always drew a little parallel between the twitching insect leg thats left on the page and the similarly uncomfortable sensation of the eyelash that remus feels scratching his own eye immediately afterwards. thats not necessarily meant to come across n i expect it doesnt because i didnt develope the idea...at all...but in my head they were always a little linked teehee like even sirius' smallest acts of violence still have an effect on remus somehow xx)

but yeah!! apologies i didnt think this would be such a long explanation for a simple question fbhsdfhs im very embarrassed by this but like!! in short the spider was another little jarring moment designed to tether the version of sirius you get in the flashback to the version you get in the post-prank scenes, because ultimately he's the same guy with the same flaws both before and after the prank!! there was no reason for him to kill the spider like that and thats why hes so fucked. it was just his instinctive response to seeing it there.

[pndnj]

Cathartic- Yellow Metal Lyrics

Heres where I am with the lyrics, I referenced @25Goldenn on twitter for some of it that I couldn’t comprehend. 

*music*

0:23

Dark matter, like painted splatters, they fit better, the old saying, the way it goes, better the devil you do then you don’t know. I hit pedals and switch levers, my heart metal, I can't settle, im part trouble, they are not subtle. I fuck good so fuck cuddles, burst bubbles the thrist levels at new heights, i down doubles, and got baked til I felt high, my face puzzled, felt muddled, far strung and your floors woodent, the thought might but the fit wouldn’t. A fortnight

0:46 - 1:00

And I thought right, it’s all bark and no bite, I’m Tony Stark still embarking on a dream, took a bit of time to take darkness from the team. Seen what I saw. Heartless on the sleeve. Tried to burn my wings, so I put them in a piece on my chest , at peace no rest.

1:00-1:15

Flipped this on it’s head. Rip the script up now, flip it don’t pretend, slipping shit again, Fakers all around me, I’ve been living in pretense. Fake friends won’t make amends. There’s no need, these mean comments control the scenes. Attentionseekers, the spine is weakened

1:15-1:24

This family needs, what a family needs, and the planet bleeds, the damaged trees. It’s never leaving til we ascend so fuck the fence, and until they stop killing colour it’s fuck the feds.

1:22 - 1:44

You must be off it, I mean it, you know you ain’t never get with the judging and I used to dread growing my beard too long, never felt I belonged, but it's really long like a minute I ain’t looking to no mans for the limits, They’re feeling timid, I’m telling them who they mimic, why they don't look like a clinic …. Why they don't get no women, Still, we’re just fucking girls, Lost in the wrong world, Jurassic, now to this vermin

1:41-  1: 50

Kicking the game I’m serving, these losers are never learning, my fire is forever burning, adding it to my fuel, seems like I’m always focused on never becoming you, These locals that rob us feeling … was for a reason.

1:52-2:02

I’m seeing my new beginnings, watch out this loser’s winning, and no water is too deep to swim in Like I’m about to see a killing, I’m all the way that and living, flawless and feeling lawless, the prison now to the gimmicks, my vision is set to something,

2:03-:2:20

I’m watching you bitches plummet, no matches here for my cunning, you rappers are feeling done in, switching your genre, running and Running your jaw, stunting, pulling at straws, something  I think you’re a poor effort, deaf and tone deaf and I ain’t treat you separate. Living, I’m in my element, riding it like a … never lose me to fentanyl, scared when I take a benadryl. Keeping it green in general

2:20- 2:46

Think that you remain irrelevant. Look at yourself with reverence, hoping to always elevate. Celibate of these thoughts, killing themselves with sedatives. In comparison to eminem, you’re feeling feminine. Impolitically correct, still dropping on my dick. And I never gave a fuck about what they say abt my shit, I’ve been moving things in my mind like it’s this mountain dew Memories have made me wonder if one day I’m after you. What’s the purpose that you do, is what you're hoping that they learn, i’d like to say i’m done but it’s getting up on my nerves

2:46 -2:55

I’m looking at my life, saying what do I deserve. It’s hard to say I know when I’m walking through the dirt. Talking while you’re nothing I can see for what it’s worth. I’m tired of feeling hurt and I’ve tried enough but nothing works.

2:55-3:40

I’m racking up excuses while I’m slacking off on work. Chit chatting is the usual, talking to this clerk, i beg you don’t include me. I might write it on my shirt so everytime they see me, the oldest know to swerve. SWERVE Life is potent, bits of fucked shit… till they took notice weren’t  no hocus pocus, it was hard work that got me heard so i put in the graph like google maps but the whole earth

… around my door mat, taking over like the drones, rolling dirt up in miles like the water, and exploding like Annas hematoma. Don't need to see a slammer to know that I don't want to go man

I’m a showman. I’m just focused on the drama… like i’ve got my own insurance, show myself the pain, like i boxed it in the frame, if we’re about to talk greatness im great, the way you have to say my name like beyonce

“Say my name”

4:00-4:46

Just a bum with a cigarette, sun coming up, all my thoughts on the internet. Feeling deep, I’m just bored with the silhouette single sec,  get fucked up for the thrill of it . killer streak playing Pacman. Like I came from the Philippines vanilla bean still a thing for the thrill of scene,

Theres a beam, UFO, Leave it well alone  I aint moving, stood still on the peloton, telephone and its always on the dial tone,  it's been a while since i’ve smiled at a milestone, seen a big pile in my mind stone, me against the world on my Jack Jones, Like I’m John Jones, With pictures in the condo, far from John Doe, in the ___, like I'm Johnny Bravo, got pravado, with a small dick sitting in golados, feeling far gone, cuz that last hit was the good shit, was that stay lit

4:48-5:02

You can never take my shit come and get me. On the top floor,  cloud 9, fading, never bailing, felt amazing, inhaling, til my lungs two guns blazing. Overcome all the stunts that I pulled. A suit of just skin and then wool

5:02- 5:17

This life doesn’t give you no armour, a lot of myself can harm ya. I swear on what’s good, that I’m here till they take me. I pray that I’m wrinkled, at least over 80, and start moving like a ruler, ?damaged? Like a computer going fast, bars from the jeweler, bring the songs to the beach in hopes of finding tuna

5:18-5:36

…

5:36- 6:16

Grab a bat, lose my rag. Couple things got me mad, a couple people got me wrong and now I’m changing up the swag. Coming in and stealing it, I might take the whole bag. Feeling undefeated, I’m a beast with a reason, and imma lead the whole pack. Fearless like I’m Caesar, I’m just waiting for a chance to fill it up with diesel, and all I've been achieving is clocking miles in its region, moving like a legion.

Promise that I made to myself an allegiance. Do you still believe I’m a fool for ever leaving, staring at the ceiling, can never put a cap on achieving. I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving.

I’ve had about enough of being my own enemy, it’s time I grew up,  a long way from 17. Always went against the grain, struggles in my life. Got some things to say when I stand up on a mike.

6:16-6:32

I ain’t dropping this for fame, I need this time, like therapy, it’s just to keep me sane. The truth is on my medicine, can’t put that on your plate.

Speeding into everything, bout time I fixed the brakes. Don’t say I can’t communicate , you know I conversate with you in several different ways. And I know you know it’s references, looking at your face.

6:33- 6:53

Can’t justify mistakes, like every man that made them, seems I ain't  the one to blame. Lying to myself, only had so much to gain, so now I’m switching up the plate, see if that affects the place, im at on most days

I ain’t going with the usual so they looking at me strange. Confused, I can feel it all,  I’m here to make a change. It’s cold at 3am outside, I’m walking with the dog, thanking god that you don’t talk at all, my mind is switching off

6:54-7:12

Driving down to find myself, cuz I’ve been getting lost, lived this selfless life and found I can give a toss. Lessons that I’ve learned I’ve tried teaching to myself. What I’ve learnt from certain people is that they’re better than myself.

So I surround myself with real ones, and you feel the plastic melt. Like burning toy soldiers that used to go up on the shelf. Recycle the ideas, conveying on the belt

7:14-7:29

.. circus, always hurting the way we felt? Embarrassed that we dreamt of bigger things and letting go of notions till we feel them in cement

Tired of only hoping, we feel broken men. Cuz the gravity is weight and has kept us to the ground, see the only people speaking with favors in their mouths

7:46-7:58

Got killer rhymes… no fillers, like godzilla, eating clouds cuz my smokes thicker, throat licker, my dope sicker, bringing people their hope like im the pope slicker,  i hope you’re getting the point cuz i walk quicker

I thought my city was shit bcs I want bigger like my zipper couldn’t zip up fed up with the…my love is fickle.. Residual age has a primitive face

I see demise for your limited ways, Left it to simmer, simmer away…a fake glimmer in the haze

8:09-8:11

Feeling trapped this industry is a cage

8:34-8:50

Nobody’s speaking the truth, I’m offended by the State. Look at the state of the news, I’ve decided the argument, reciting my views, while they’ve been sat in their chairs, I’m feeling pressure to choose.

Standing here as one man, how can I do half when you’re half the person I am. If it wasn’t in your life, you didn’t choose it. It’s the funny thing about music. It’s the pain and beauty of it.

8:52-9:11

Don’t give a fuck what my suit is, it looks good so I wear it, better than the shoot that People’s wearing, changing the whole narrative for these basics and scarcity

Been facing the racists from back when i were a kiddie .born up in in 93’. been living in Bradford City..kicked me out of the schools, they had a problem with me hitting the kids that would call me p*** still sitting in the classroom chilling, and i'm angry now that I’m older I see they treat us different

9:12-9:25

got me thinking I’m the problem cuz they never dealt with those issues.

20 years later I’m still in the same boat, tryna treat me like my grandpa, say I came up off the boat. Came to tell you what I stand for, man I think you’re shit, a joke. How can I be civil, when they got me by the throat

9:25-9:35

Pushing my feelings down, you ain’t got it like them

‘Boy your skin is so light’, ok motherfucker take my name up on a flight. Try to convince immigration that your bloodline’s half white.

9:35-9:45

I don’t know how that’s acceptable, when life is more susceptible to perception, be the death of them. I’ve been looking at the sky saying where’s that day of reckoning, you had your prophets right when they say that you would speak to them.

9:45-9:55

I need justice in this life and I trust that it’s my fight, cuz when I’m writing it feels right to have them focused on the facts again. Focused on the rap again, hoping for the change, gunna put this on the map again

9:55-10:16

Writing in all caps again, the pain, it goes through me so I write the letter. All the shit that could have brought me but made me better.

I’m at home with a pain in my soul , yeh rap… cuz you know I was too real to contest it, my time was invested. Now I look at the industry, I see it infested, looking like kids who would write on nesquik.

10:17-10:29

My name ain’t on the list unless they label it ethnic.

I ain’t never gave a fuck about these jokers and jesters. Ain’t no answers for these things, so just save us the questions, man allowed of violence, cuz my silence is deafening, your opinion stinks, somebody get him a breath mint.

10:30- 10:42

Start to understand why they think that I’m threatening, I move in certain ways, couldn’t slow me with ketamine Now they all wanna hear me, got a table at letterman. Direction changed, like I changed up the lettering. Don’t believe the age ,bcs I move like a veteran.

10:42 - 10:47

Raised on the benefit for whose benefit, they’ll never learn shit, man, if the shoe fits.

…no words coming out when you open your mouth

And to be honest, it’s insulting, offensive to my wounds that have been salting. Tryna ask me questions that they know I never answer. I’d rather sit online and reply to the fan art

11:00-11:06

Fuck a sports car, coming through when i rapped

tell you what I like, farm life and the tractor

11:06- 11:17

Fake life, 'sup online, suck a fat one. You don’t wanna buy into that, none of that son. Sitting in the garden 98’ in the Datsun,  seen some hot summers but I still remember that sun.

*music*

11:51- 12:34

I make millions off of my pain, cause I know a few millions still living that way

Dealing with the hurt, they should know cause they don’t deserve it, it hit deep cause i hit the nerve. Only way that the sheep learn if the street firm, in my ways I don’t wanna change, everything just stay the same

Who you tryna convince you understand, cant maintain, let the lights dim some,  get the Chow Mein, flex, get the tape, right up at night

Why these men be nice to my face, be nice,  i ain’t tryna be a gangsta ruins my vibe

Rather be low-key and on my phone. Never need the trophy or the show piece

Never show peace in a North Face fleece. Show kids this like i wrote my flip

Cause the sign might fit till the start i’m sick

12:37-13:05

Now you see where I come from, the world don’t. Only achievement in this life is the Jordans. Committing petty crimes out of boredom, we can’t afford them. So I stole it, need a rolex

Go make sense, get yourself a job, It’s a poor man’s game tryna sit and pray to god, he ain’t sorting out your problems, gotta sort them out yourself

Used to tell us fables, now I’m writing them myself, Cause we raw like animals we all just need some help

Cathartic, I’m an artist, trying to put my heart in

Felt double crossed like Leo in Departed

13:05- 13:27

For the knowledge i’m not charging see I got it all free

But my hunger kept me starving like i’m feening for the feed

I just Need a reason to see me bleeding for my creed. Trick you with the words like I keep em up my sleeve. Picking where I fit, I see me sitting with the queen

I ain’t doing it unless you’re used to saying please

Let me flow a bit, before I sting 'em with the bees, They tryna kill us with disease

(Music)

13:34- 14:12

Why does it feel like they had the same notebook and the same four looks

Like the rain won't touch on their face, so sus when they lie don’t trust not a minor

Please no fuss, I just move through the game like must

Something in the way i adjust till i stick, Free falling like the ship, free fall till i bust

Remember 21 brother gave no fucks. Trying to project when they give them looks

In the projects, in the objects us

In my own way, never gave me love, shoulda never started this, broken hearted kid

Dried up the feeling till I stole the lid

Don’t wanna relish in the fame but I can’t resist

14:46-14:58

I like the way we feel, I like the way, I like the way

Ain’t no mistake, i am a being

I ain’t tryna be a leader, been selling out since Jesus

All my rhymes are for the readers, between the lines, like Father time, I fuck Mother Nature

14:58-15:40

That’s what they get, the connotations. Tell 'em I lived a life, and then I lived a life of adjacent? like its…. and played it patient.

Alone on my own spaceship, always tryna find greatness, still defying lines, but I’m fighting in my prime.

Shining light like Kylo while imma kill it all the time. Aging like I’m wine

Asian in my face, but still my race you can’t define. Focused on defiance, imma fight it while it’s life.

Started something sick and on my mind is what’s next, just became a dad so now I’m taking all the cheques. Better know I’m staying and paying like it’s debt. Imma get it done, if it’s taking all my breath, sweat, and down I ain’t messing around til I’m the best

Speaking in full sentences, shoulda thought about a strategy before you went at the stratosphere about this… rings around Saturn, this ain’t a battle, I’m sat, I’m here

15:40-16:22

Catch me doing magic, hired and sounding tragic I think you could use practice and until that you get the blacklist and pull like a … actress? Fooling them like a catfish, schooling like a legend, happy to be the reference, fusing like iridescence, leaving them all guessing, leaking out of my brain like a pipe I aint fixing, shining like a star you can see it from a distance

Aint many of me around p*** I’m just different Certain stages to this level aint here because fame is to the devil fuck a label, imma do this from the ghetto, clean up like Im Dettol

I’m the man to put a bet on, sight smart like a weapon,  this is my kind of setting, i write the world I’m sat in, while these others live on hype, i see them fight in how they type, the fruit is ripe for the taking, i think i might

16:22-16:57

Let me take you away from here, Let me take you away from here, Let me take you away from here

16:58- 17:47

Eccentric things are mentioned like a kid stuck in detention tryna escape im just spitting what is written on the next page, spitting image of my dad in his young days

Born sinner when i’m livid i say fucks sake

Don’t worry i’m too cunning with no plumbing, the waterworks, i sung something that resonates, i thought it first like giving birth to the parrot perch

They see me do it and they know it works

Don’t know what’s worse: the way that you live your life or the way that you write a verse

You’ll be nervous, you don’t deserve it we’ll scratch the surface ill leave a crater, lift the dirt up to find the hurting

Can’t know for certain nothing is guaranteed, tryna be a better person than the world deserves to see cuz i see a lot of sharks still swimming in the sea

Cease and arrest what’s the reason.. And these the kinda kids we bringing up next

Distorted reality, all they needed was family, too hard to face, to see what the damage is

17:47

*i don’t wanna be, i don’t wanna be, a part of this, no, i don’t wanna be, i don’t wanna be, a part of this, *

18:04-18:38

Sometimes they ask the questions too deep to form a sentence, to disform, is this the norm, is this the sentence i feel defenseless i played the setlist, and all my sweat blood and tears, forgot to mention feeling lost, going off into different sections i feel like love wrecked it

If it’s not a drug why am i waiting for the next fix, affected, i cant believe that you left this

I guess I leave for the best wish, moving on like im fine for the lectures

We see it all from spectrums, cuz if we’re falling down we can fall down together

Staircase to heaven, mirror down the middle like 11, resentment on one side it won’t settle

18:38- 19:14

Mind fried but taking sense, they aint got a sense of themselves in the rich ends

Need to spell it out for them.. Made for them so witness

I know you feel afflicted but you always love it with me while im laughing at you, ya think you’re laughing with me

I try to (i love you) but im grown so they don’t fit me, my body thrown from the new to this old city so Im sick of sitting on my own, feeling so shitty, i’ve been on roads where its cold and the snow hitting

Its okay to be yourself, sit and talking to myself

I’ve been walking for the longest, just need a little rest, know i ain’t the strongest, I can feel it in my chest, talking about my feelings and of me, they get the best

19:14-19:59

They aint leaving, seeing breathing in my breath

Till death do us part is just seeded in my heart, like a work of art

Never winning,im just scared

Cant begin from the start, do i play a part in the rhythm of the night

I guess i’m onto something cuz the dark is feeling right

Every cloud got a lining, put my own miles  in, like moralis, figured that they’re jealous, that they could just never tell us to change because the weather never made me question whether or not i’m not that level

Got rid of all the bullshit sitting in my way, most of them are full of shit i see it every day

I do hearing the same things that i do, maybe that shits hitting like haiku

How much do you pay for them to hype you

Recycle your flaws but they aint like new, leaving and conceded and full of diesel like engines that need a cleaning, the ending will be revealing. Even though we ain’t raising the facts, now we been facing.

20:01-20:52

The cactus with spikes, needing spaces. Different faces, the same story. A full body like straight body direct to your system.

Could never tell 'em we missed’ em. Not even with the thoughts, we gift them. Cuz they just take advantage, guess we are caught in a system.

My soul pouring out details of borrowed time, had enough of a fill, this is for sorrow time. I’m seeing visions of Heaven, I seen the severed line, between the gospel they speak and when theyre telling lies.

Remember telling a friend of mine, you’d sent of mine, identified like a 3rd eye. Got a habit of knowing now where the dirt lies. So benign. I ain’t sober after 9, so I fuck their minds. Why you flipping out, see another

Try to rep it from the city, fuck a chiller crew, repping for the nittys, trying to keep us down, raised on the social, don’t want to let us out of the system. Me, I insist we assist them, me alone putting shifts til I lift them

20:53-21:12

I know it’s hard, that’s why I like it, I’m fit to fight it, I’m from the North, I’m backing Tyson, it’s been decided, don’t see no light. They needing guiding, just redefining, realizing, I’m realigning, in full finance, they stay silenced.

Can’t be louder, I’m juiced up with no powder. I fix shit like a slick spanner. Gone green like Bruce Banner. So free Gaza on my banner

21:12-21:51

The real McCoy, I ain’t nothing to toy with, signifying peace like a Japanese Koi Fish. How did this happen, we’re moving backwards in our timeline, killing us with cyanide, Right up for the freedom 'til we transform like Ironhide

This is bout my feelings, the way that I move affects the fate that I’m sealing. Can’t say nothing, with that something being on the page, kept inside the pen like the bars that have been kept caged. See I always had a plan, since I was young, we had nothing man

Now it’s been a few years since I ain’t seen the fam, on foreign lands. Bout to climb Everest in the avalanche. Right into the riddles as soon as you were born. Never asking the question cuz it’s the norm. See I’m in a questionin’ session

21:52-22:03

Like the manner got a method to teaching a lesson, listen to MF Doom, he taught me like Ra’s Al Ghul. Felt like living in Gotham, the people were rotten. Still we play cartoons so it’s never forgotten.

22:03-22:15

Chilling at the top but we came from the bottom. Writing and jottin for them life by, spotting the difference

*Dreams, was growing out of me, sun promising that tomorrow it will rise, time playing games with my mind, I swear it will pass us by

Train goes on the tracks, smoke, I’m tired to hide my thoughts, so blinded in flames, Don’t know where we’re going, I have no way of knowing, only see what’s in my head

Can’t we wait a minute, so we can savour this, It’s on my brain again, these days, It on my brain again these days”

23:10-23:46

They’re hating on Palestine ways, The oh no Palace playing Prince on the Steinway, Sending out mind waves, stop them like crimewaves, Freedom fighter, Yellow Metal is my name

Like vipers, I see the sly ones, the snake that’s called Biden, none of them abiding what they might put in writing

We should be used to it by now, say whatever for the vote and then just choose another route, say they’d never kill another unless that brother’s skin is brown

I’m just telling you the facts, if you can’t take it, the truth naked, to bare bones and my thoughts lately, spitting politics.. Done ain’t it, Shit just gets me vexed, and now I’m sitting that I think of it

23:45-23:59

Feeling on the brink of it, whatever it is, Figure out some shit at least it feels that way

talk about my feelings and I don’t feel so strange, finding solace, that’s a promise, in Metropolis but being honest, can’t write a sonnet, without some pain

24:00-24:40

Can’t fade away, away so we can savour this, been on my brain again these days

Can't find a way to be so you can savour this, been on my brain these days

Singing the song for another, singing a song for another

[tscmu]

first dates with haikyuu boys :)

pt 1. - msby black jackals

genre; kinda fluff idk?? just kinda cute early relationship tings

warnings; secondhand embarassment, lil suggestive comments ( from atsumu who am i kidding )

characters; bokuto, atsumu, hinata + sakusa

all characters r timeskip and 18+ !!

koutarou bokuto

- bruh youd be terrified for this date like.. a guy youve hardly spoken to with a massive personality asking you to meet him at a tiny cafe.. ok

- hed love tiny cafes though like the ones nobody are in so its just you two.. AWH

- dates wouldnt be a massive thing to him so youd be dressed up casual formal with light makeup on and hed strut off the bus in his kit literally sweating, just left practice and youd be like 😳

- you wouldve met him at a club like a week back when you were both off your faces and youd wake up the next morning with no idea what happened the night before, just like 10 texts from someone with the contact name ‘BokJUt OWks MAn’ asking you on a date.. why wouldnt u say yeah??

- it would go rly well !!

- i think itd be a bit slow at first, like youre both describing your lives when.. it happens

- youre both just aimlessly chatting, both tuning in and out of conversation waiting for the food to come when.. you hear it. the thing that you did that you thought NOBODY else did. and he does it.

- “and one of my roommates tsumu always yells at me because i collect stamps-” ��WAIT YOU COLLECT STAMPS?? ME TOO BRUH”

- youd both have a joint aneurysm literally

- after that youd be infatuated with eachother ITD BE SO CUTE

- youd get the bill both like a lil tipsy, heading further into the town to just go window shopping in the moonlight

- UWUWUWUWUWUWU pls

- then hed accidentally set off the jewellery shop alarm pointing at a pretty ring and poking the glass too hard-

- when your taxi came he’d be really sad.. then as you close the door hed just jump in and find his own way home HAHAHA

- 10/10 date would do again.. and you did

atsumu miya

- oh you would be EXCITED

- until you found out his suggestion.. one of his own fucking games

- you just cut it down to the fact that he was a personal volleyball player, he was probably busy, yk?? but no it was because he wanted to show off to you🙄🙄

- you met him on the street like he literally picked you up on the street.. only he yall only he 

- well of course you liked him have you seen him 

- you exchanged numbers and were texting for like a week ( where he just begged you to come to a game ) before finally you said ok

- because its a date you didnt wanna bring along someone else so you just kinda showed up on your own and followed the crowd.. before finding out you were on the WRONG SIDE OF THE COURT

- he teased you about this for years to come and you wanted to burst out crying every time

- after finally finding the right seat on the RIGHT SIDE, the players came out and.. lets say you were surprised

- you didnt know that much about volleyball beforehand but.. d a m n

- those uniforms were hot😳😳

- the game went well and they won ( to his extreme happiness ), and then you finally got to meet him again

- it was subtle at first, like while he was signing shirts hed look over his shoulder and wink or something lmao

- thats until hinata and bokuto got to the area you were at and went feral, killing tsumus whole vibe HAHA

- “OH SHIT THATS THE GIRL HE INVITED!!” “WAIT IS IT- OH HI Y/N!! HES BEEN TALKING ABOUT YOU FOR AGES HE EVEN JE-” “BRO FUCK OFF”

- to which you just laughed your head off about

- bro he gave you a kiss on the cheek when he walked over making all the fangirls go absolutely feral.. twitter talked abt it for AGES even after you revealed you were dating 2 months after it happened

- you had to wait around for HOURS whilst he talked to interviewers.. struggles of being famous🥶‼🔥

- but it was worth it ofc

- he took you out to this lil restaurant when he finally got away and even walked u home.. such a gentleman damn

- “so when can i see you again.. and maybe a bit more ;)” “sHUT UP-”

- lets just say u definitely did that again-

shoyo hinata

- oh my god hed be more nervous than you were

- hed overdress like.. not full suit but pretty damn close

- i feel like hed not be that focused on women?? the volleyball grind comes first yk

- but when he made eye contact w you across the meeting table.. jeez he went feral

- bro when he was asked a question he couldn’t function you were just like ??

- atsumu basically had to ask you out for him after it finished he was so nervous HAHA

- you called him cute when he pulled up and he genuinely turned into a tomato like.. ushijima would farm him if he saw him

- hed book you a table at this really fancy restaurant ( with a lil financial help from kenma ) and you were genuinely shocked lmao

- i feel like youd work with the jackals as like a promoter or sumn and hed just be shocked.. like he didnt know you even existed bruh??

- because of that hed be pretending hed had his eye on you for a while ( to which you just laughed knowing he was trying to be cool )

- hed tell you to order something expensive but you knew how much those guys got paid.. yeah no.

- but hed warm up MASSIVELY like by the end of it after a glass and a bit of wine youd both be like peas in a pod literally

- youd go for a lil walk around the city centre before u found a taxi.. HED BE SO SAD LIKE HE DIDNT WANT IT TO END??

- hed go in for the kiss i know he would 

- youd be like ??? but kiss him back bc why wouldnt u hes a baby

- best date you’d had in a couple years by far

kiyoomi sakusa

- you literally wouldnt realise it was a date until the end i stg this man

- hed deadass show up to ur door and be like ‘cmon’ and youd be like EXCUSE ME SIR-

- i feel like you wouldve known eachother for at LEAST a couple months

- and he wouldve just done NOTHING like you didnt even know he felt a romantic connection to you

- but trust me he did

- he just didnt know the words to say :(

- but this is what the lads told him to do LMAO

- before u knew what was happening you were in the backseat of a taxi and he was telling them a street in the middle of the city-

- “oh we’re going out to dinner” “wha- i didnt bring my purse tho-” “eh.” literally

- you were kinda surprised because you knew how much he hated crowds and dinner in the city seemed unlike him, more like something you would enjoy

- but thats exactly why he did it 

- youd pull up and do a double take when he was asking for a table.. WHO THE FUCK WAS SITTING AT THE BACK OF THE RESTAURANT

- however after being motioned to shut up by atsumu you acted like you saw nothing

- it was just like the other times youd hung out but he was a little more.. interested in you

- not like suggestive, he just genuinely was asking about like how your day was, etc IT WAS CUTE AS HELL

- it was at that point you realised oh shit, this might be a date-

- when it was over you suggested going into the city and looking in shops for a bit, but the restaurant filled with people was enough for him lmao

- you got a taxi back and were standing outside your apartment door when he did something hed never done before

- MANS HUGGED YOU

- it was then you realised.. did he actually like you??

- spoiler he did

- and things were different between you ever since IM UWUING PLS

[stromuprisahat]

#sir i know you're on tumblr you KNOW we're insane for you and jaskier

ladynearthelake:

#six seasons and a mother fucking movie please

bellamyblakru:

#bro if rather watch just bard shenanigans pls joey batey i beg

finleycannotdraw:

#TELL JOEY BATEY THAT JASKIER IS THE ONLY REASON I STILL CARE ABT THE SHOW

wren-of-the-woods:

#joey i mean this in the politest way possible: you are very very wrong #take one look at ao3 or tumblr and you'll find hundreds of people who would watch that

crownmystars:

#i would watch that #a jaskier centric show esp with cavill leaving

panur:

look, we just need 4 seasons of jaskier and Yen pretending to be married

lady-sigyn:

Give me 50 seasons of just Jaskier doing his thing and I'll give you all my money

whatspastisprologue-blr:

What do you mean, nobody wants to see just Jaskier?! Jasksier is one of the only good things from the whole show! A whole episode could be about watching paint dry and Joey would still find a way to make it interesting!

the-chiseled-dorito-of-justice:

#i dont care if the showrunners want it  I WANT IT #he could be talking about grass gowing or paint drying and id watch it

lovelysailboat:

#I would watch a spin-off with Jaskier showing what he is up to when he isn’t with Geralt

chaoticfandomthot:

Joey underestimates us, i'd also watch ten hours of him staring at a brick wall

inthishousewelovejoeybatey:

#JOEY I WOULD SELL MY SOUL TO BE ABLE TO WATCH A SPIN OFF OF JASKIER DOING HIS CUTE LITTLE BARD THING #IF YOUR DOWN SO AM I WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR

kaiyonohime:

#Just Jaskier wouldn't work #We need him running around and yelling at Valdo #And Yennefer watching and cheering with wine

obliviouspoptart:

#I WOULD PAY ALL THE MONEY JUST TO FOLLOW JASKIER AROUND THE CONTINENT JOEY #I WANT TO JUST SEE JASKIER JOEY #I WANT JASKIER AND YENN TO ABANDON ALL THE BULLSHIT AND HAVE SLUTTY ADVENTURES JOEY #I WOULD WATCH YOU STARE AT A BRICK WALL I SWEAR #okay. normal. i would kill for a jaskier spin-off bc i trust joey batey with jaskier So Much #and?? IMAGINE the killer music we’d get????

witcher-and-his-bard:

#oh sweet boy #if he only knew how many people watch almost exclusively for jask these days

andsometimesgoldcanstay:

#sir they literally included just you in blood origin bc they knew it would guarantee that people would watch it

thatwonderouswoman:

Even if Henry wasn't leaving, I would definitely want to know more about Jaskier's adventures alone.

Now that Henry is leaving after season 3? I would much rather watch a Jaskier spin-off. At least give him a movie or something.

#could he stare at the brickwall shirtless tho?

naddiru:

I would watch the shit out of a jaskier show that focus only on himself, and he isn't even my favorite! Just imagine a show about his time in oxenfurt! Young jaskier doing shit while learning the seven arts!

#please #give us more jaskier #and joey batey some confidence #he has no idea how much we love him

charlataninred:

#i would watch a 20 hour show just of Jaskier in prison talking to rats/mice and pissing off the guards

vampyre-rat:

little does he know hes the only reason i watch that show in the first place…

thetardigrape:

#i would absolutely watch an entire series of jaskier singing and fucking his way across the continent #but for reasons i think should be obvious #i'd rather hissrich not be involved

someone tell joey batey i'd watch ten hours of him staring at a brick wall <3

[majicmarker]

so i’ve had a lot on my mind lately — the good, the bad, the ugly, you know the drill. i’m used to the bad and the ugly, but i think (and ofc by my therapist’s rec) i need to give a little credit to the good, too. not to mention the good is largely comprised of people, and those people deserve a sports stadium wave, yk? idk shit abt sports, whatever, but i know what the wave is and it’s like the grandest gesture i can think of, SO

listen, y’all. to get real here, i hate fandom. my time spent therein has been hit-or-miss, but the misses got me hard and contributed to some major self-loathing, etc etc. we’re not gonna get into the specifics, i don’t owe that to anyone, but suffice it to say things got Rough.

but so much of it can be so, so good. and rn i want to keep on my rose-colored glasses, and the rosiest parts for me have always been @kitten1618x and @mygutsforgarters

(quite a few others, too, but i no longer have everyone’s info. and some ppl are newer friends, or relationships that have moved more slowly. i have mad love for u guys too, obvs, but ik melissa and gus irl so we know each other More and they’re who this post is rly about atm. pls know i don’t want to harsh on anyone’s feelings)

the tl;dr version of events is i met them both via fanfic. i happened upon theirs like “bitch!!!! **i** wanna do this, they’re bomb as hell” and then i made them be friends w me. they’ll tell you they wanted to be friends w me first, but that’s not important bc **i** am the one making this post, so they can both like,, suck it.

ANYWAY.

@ melissa : so bitch listen. here’s the thing abt melissa…… i found her while browsing jonsa fic back when i cared abt GOT, and she brought me back to what i loved so much abt romance when i first started, way back in junior high, what’s up. i bad a fascination w historial romantic epics for a loooooong time — those formative yrs, amirite ladies??? — but girl i could never write it so well as melissa. immediately she struck this balance between the drama you expect from historicals and the levity of a good romance, and i was just like, “hand to god this woman must be published already, surely???”

(she’s not, but that’s ridiculous so we’re gonna skip that)

(also she’s busy?? we’ve been friends for like six years and i will never know how many kids she actually has, but the point is she’s a goddamn superhero and i’m obsessed w her, MOVING ON)

i just Had to be her friend for two reasons: 1) she’s too talented, and b) i have said that abt 2 ppl my entire life and she was the first, so i was like, “AH YES MY HOLY GRAIL”

so ofc i slid into her DMs just as effectively as that one guy i had a crush on when i was sixteen and he’s still shooting me texts every valentine’s day bc of the societal pressures i guess (it is Far Less Effective these days, he’s my age and therefore too young for me, gross, but i digress), except me and melissa go way stronger.

she reminded me of why, half a lifetime ago, i started writing romance — bc it’s fun, bc i want to. bc i can do absolutely anything i want, bc who else is gonna read it but me and whoever i share it with? it was all up to me what i wanted to do with it, and i could do anything. nothing really mattered but what i wanted, and i hadn’t felt that way abt anything in such a long time — let alone abt something i used to love so much.

melissa’s writing is so beautiful, it’s everything i wanted to achieve when i was fifteen and never got around to perfecting. and i’m totally okay w that now, bc what do i need to do myself that she’s not already doing/wants to do in the future? when i found melissa’s writing i found a missing part of me — a part i’d maybe lost, maybe i gave it up, idk, but it was totally gone until i found her fics and they fucking clicked. i had to reach out bc there was a part of me that was a part of her, and she helped me find that again w/o even knowing it.

so i found melissa via GOT, and from the start she’d been trying to get me to write some bethyl. years and years, she dropped not-so-subtle hints — and by “hints,” i mean legit directives that i watch just enough TWD to write her some beth/daryl fic. real crafty, she is.

eventually the stars aligned: i was bored w the same dynamics i’d been writing for years, i wanted smthn new, i was restless, i was line editing a bethyl fic she’d written, and — again — this shit clicked. her fic made me want to explore this dynamic i’d never done before, so i watched the prerequisite episodes (no more than that tho, i super hate the show and i’m begging y’all to not @ me abt it anymore). i found smthn that i’d been missing, smthn that challenged and excited me and brought me back around to why i love romance and, more importantly, why i want to write it myself.

so as i was starting to write bethyl, i was poking around the ao3 tag to get a feel for what had been done, what hadn’t, anything i might be missing. and goddamn BAM —

@ gus : this is where u enter dramatically thru a red velvet curtain that i don’t wanna touch (Metaphorically bc you do romance better than me and i’m cool w that bc your talent simply Cannot be touched, and Literally bc i hate velvet) — i was like, “please for the love of god let her want to write contemporary romance, i need some good fckin food”

i happened upon “doo wah diddy diddy” first. ofc the summary hooked me, forget my usual hard no against pregnancy fics (i have issues w pregnancy and that’s all anybody Needs to know, back off), but This Bitch !!!!!!! has a way with words and i wanted to be friends w her straightaway. lmao too bad for her, now she’s stuck w me

gus’s fics gave me what i wanted without having to write it myself. her style is so distinctive, she hits the notes between porn and Actual Affection that is missing from uhhhh, every romance i’ve tried?? (why is everyone so intent on the sex part?? fckin chill. at best it’s unrelatable and at worst u sound like u’d rather wear someone than fuck them, check urself)

she writes w such care, she wants you to know what she’s doing here, and what she’s doing here is combining the physical and emotional needs of both characters w/o infringing on anyone’s comfortability. you root for these characters bc they simply want to be together, no strings (and if there are strings, damn, they talk abt it).

gus makes you believe in love in the modern age. like, not to sound like one of those ppl who post fckin “no one in this generation knows how to love!!!1!!11!!” memes on facebook, those are dumb, but gus’s writing made me think “yeah man, love ain’t dead, it’s just abt how we approach it.”

(if y’all haven’t guessed yet, i have some hang-ups abt relationships. i’ve goddamn earned those. but melissa and gus both brought me back to where i needed to be — in this place where, yeah, we’ve got some shit to deal with, but we all still deserve the things we want, and those things are achievable. i could not have gotten here without them, so jot that down.)

gus is Real, she’s funny, she’s unapologetic in the way she writes. ofc she has her personal hurdles, but who doesn’t?? and tbh nobody writes a sex scene like gus does. physical, realistic, but balanced w the emotional depth that makes you root for these characters bc you can Feel how much they want each other — not just sexually, but in the less-erotic aftermath of that passion. it continues to blow my mind, bc i’ve never seen anyone do what she does. i can’t even pinpoint the specifics, bc she just… Does It. and you’re reading it like “yeah bitch that’s it,” and That’s It.

it’s fckin wild.

these two — my best friends, the lights of my life, both of whom always make me crave chicken tenders at THE most inconvenient hours bc somehow we always talk abt chicken or ice cream or ultimately DQ, but they're both so hot idec — have something special.

i really, really want them both to know that: it’s not just in how they’ve treated me as a friend, but who they are as people, in their creative pursuits. i’ve never known support the way they’ve shown me; i’ve never known this much enthusiasm or investment or belief that i can do what i want with my talent. i want them to know that i feel the same way abt them and their works.

sometimes, when i look back at their writing that completely kicked my ass, i still can’t believe that they’ve become two of my best friends. it’s totally bonkers. they’re This Talented, and they wanna be friends w my spastic ass? GIRL. i’m out.

i’m not always the best at being present, at giving people what they need when they need it. but with everything that melissa and gus have given me in the past few years, i need them to know this — honey!!! i need all y’all to know this, bc i know fandom shit is hard, but you should know some of these friendships are so, so worth all that bullshit, so —

they have so much to give, so much to say, so much to offer. i could not have kept going without them. i couldn’t believe in myself without the faith they’ve given to me. i hope that i can always give that same faith right back.

and that, babes, is what real soulmates are all about.

[fwns]

First time crying because of a pokemon game

Literally no one:

Me: I’m gonna write about pokemon shield because it’s a great game and i love it

Man the last time i got to review something was probably 7 years ago during high school english class. I am by no mean a writer, yet again a game reviewer. This is just my honest take on the game bc it saddens me to see that a lot of people are shitting on the game especially with the dexit, short game, lack of action and the paid DLCs just announced. I‘ve been playing pokemon for 10 years or so (my first game was saphire) and despite the flaws this game has, i truly enjoy it.

1.) First of all. dude u gotta appreciate the visuals of the game!! LOOK AT THOSE!!

The screenshots above are from some of my favourite areas in the game. The concept of wild area is really cool and it makes the pokemon journey more realistic like the ones we used to see in the anime or how we imagined it. That it would take days to reach a city and u need to set up a camp whenever you need to rest or fill your belly. Also getting chased by strong wild pokemon in the wild area really got my blood pumping lmao

2.) THE SOUNDTRACKS. THE FRIGGIN. MUSIC. I’m such an aficionado for great music whether it’s an album, movie scores, and even games like these. Seriously the gym leader battle theme is an absolute banger (especially the crowds’ chants!!). Like it makes my 12 yo character more fired up to kick a grown up’s ass in front of a packed stadium and live tv.  The last time i was this excited to kick a gym leader’s butt was when i was battling winona years ago bc my dumb ass haven’t quite figured out the concept of type advantages.

^more appreciation for the gym leader battle theme. From all the shits this game has received, i haven’t seen a single complaint about the music so explain this, science side.

3.) I love how in this game some of the NPCs have actual character like our rival hop, leon, piers, marnie and bede too. BUT ESPECIALLY OUR RIVAL HOP. SERIOUSLY HOP IS BEST BOI AND ONLY DESERVES THE BEST 😭😭😭. Hop is (i assume) childhood friend/neighbour who happens to be the little brother of the current champion leon. Now this may seem like a usual pokemon protag - rival trope, being the protag is a nobody who just stepped into the world of pokemon trainer and the rival being someone related to someone important in the region (like how green/blue, barry, and hau was). Being a champion’s little brother is quite a big deal for hop but hop isn’t the snarky arrogant rival like green was. Instead he’s just a happy kid who dreams of surpassing his brother and want to form a healthy rivalry/friendship with you (he’s kinda a mix of barry and hau imo). Throughout your journey, hop helps you with the ropes and just generally be there as a friend...a real good friend.

And just like the previous games, as the story progresses you get to battle hop quite frequently and in order to advance further in the game (and keep those pocket money to buy varsity jackets) you gotta beat him over and over again. The thing is, unlike some other rivals who were like ‘wow ur so strong! k i need to train more bye’ hop actually TALKS TO YOU. Sure he did acknowledge our strength, but after he would talk to you abt other things like the next city/gym leader or even abt his life atm. I really appreciate the developers for making details like this bc through the dialogues you can actually see the depth of the characters and it makes you actually think. Like for example from my battles and dialogues with hop, i can see that he’s quite pressured bc of his background as the champion’s brother and people have high expectations of him, yet he keeps on losing to you (his rival). There is even one point in the game in which hop fell through a downward spiral bc he keeps on losing to you (the protag) and another NPC rival. You can ACTUALLY FEEL the stirring of emotions through the battles with hop and the dialogues bc at one point he even said something like ‘i don’t wanna drag leon’s name through the mud bc i’m too weak’ and i was like NOOOOO WHO HURT YOU 😭😭😭😭 (but then i realized it was partly me oh god i’m so sorry hop). Never in all my experience playing pokemon game that i feel bad about beating a rival, i do hope in future games they would let the rival beat us....well probably during an offscreen battle :p

Also, for the longest time we finally have our champion doing actual champion duties (?) like protecting the region from catastrophe. Like i understand that this is probably where the ‘lack of action’ comes from because let’s face it, team yell isn’t actually a threat to you or the region, and whenever a ‘real threat’ comes up, leon would beat you to take care of it first. Tbh there are moments when i was like ‘damn leon let me in on the fun too!’ but then again i realized there are actual adults in this game with their actual jobs (champion, researchers, gym leaders) who can actually do their job without relying on a 12 yo to do everything for them which is pretty realistic if you think about it

but don’t worry, in the end we’ll get to play a big part in saving the region too :))

4.) THE GYM LEADERS AND GYM BATTLE IN THIS GAME ARE JUST *chef kiss* the developers really put all their effort in this. Although i admit some of the gym challenges are kinda ‘lazy’ like just pummel through these gym trainers before facing the leader (especially on the last gym???really????). But the battles against the leaders are never boring.

WE FINALLY GOT A DARK TYPE GYM LEADER WOOTTT!! Plus he’s that one dude from the pop punk band that we love during our middle school years.

God i wish i had a big brother like piers, not only he’s one of the most challenging gym leader in our journey but he also helps us not just once but twice. At one point he throws an impromptu concert to cause a riot for us to be able to get through a heavily guarded area

gOD i love that chaotic energy 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

Last but not least...man...MY BEST BOI RAIHAN!!! JUST BEST GYM LEADER, DRAGON TAMER (lol sorry lance), A GENIUS, 100% WILL TREAT YOU RIGHT, JUST 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻💦💦💦 💕 💕 💕💯💯💯 

just thank you gamefreak for creating him 😭😭😭😭👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 

OH AND GYM BATTLE UTILIZING WEATHER EFFECTS??? that’s some solid strategy there. I’m not a really strategic pokemon trainer, so i usually just pummel through every opponent lmao so when i saw this man controlling dragons and the weather i just 😮

AND THE FRIGGIN SELFIE GAWD 😭😭😭😭 LIKE WHO THOUGHT SNAPPING A SELFIE IN THE MIDDLE OF A SANDSTORM HOLDING A GIANT ASS POKEBALL IS A GOOD IDEA??? BUT THIS MAN SOMEHOW MAKES IT WORK. Also pls give me that camera bc the quality is bomb.

Well this turns out to be longer than i expected but i really just pour out how i feel about this game. It’s true that it’s not perfect and there are some aspects that can be done better, but as a long time fan of pokemon I REALLY ENJOY THIS GAME. I can see that the developers really work hard for this game to be able to cater to both old and new fans, and we all know that it’s impossible to please everyone. And for those of you who begs to differ or have different opinion about this game it’s perfectly fine and i’m not hoping to change anyone’s opinion. But PLEASE STOP HARASSING THE DEVELOPERS AND NEW FANS ESPECIALLY YOUNGER ONES! because we all know people who shames others’ interest are the worst kind of people :))) And if you have the time and money i suggest you give this game a try.  Well that’s all i gotta say, have a good day/night everyone!!

[ofstrikcrs]

heyo what’s poppin ! it’s me, hannah !  i’m 20 n vibin in the est. my pronouns r we/them/boys but she/her work as well djskfsmd n i’m currently #unemployed BUT i am a full time student... majoring in dumb bitch theory n loving my gf n i’m at the top of my class baby...... :’) ANYWAY. i’m back again w a ( hopefully ) more condensed version of the infamous google doc(s) STRIKER KIM? MORE LIKE STRIKE ME IN THE HEART I LOVE U BITCH so that u dont all have to read the monstrosity that is my app ( but like, if u wanna... u can find it right HERE ) 

n without further ado... let’s kick it !

this is striker, he’s 28 ( soon to b 29 #ariesculture ) n he’s very complicated.. very complicated.... 

his mom cherry kim ( nee corallo ) is the daughter of lorenzo corallo, renowned filmmaker. daphne had a stint in acting in her youth as well but ending up withdrawing from the spotlight once she married his dad.

his dad is warren kim, business man

what kind of business you ask ? well..

let us rewind a little bit, shall we? now if you know anything about the ins and outs of organized crime in new york city, the name corallo might sound *eyes emoji* familiar to you. giovanni corallo was a boss of the lucchese crime family until his arrest and… you guessed it… that means our man lorenzo corallo is a man of the mafia !

lorenzo, however, wasn’t a first-born son which also meant he wasn’t an heir in any way shape or form and was free to do his thing you know BUT when it came time to arrange marriage for his one and only daughter, cherry, it was Expected of him to keep it in the family 

enter the kim family, who had been loyal to the lucchese family for as long as they’d been in america and had built up quite a reputation for themselves in the family, so it was just a natural choice to marry off cherry to their son, warren

they had two kids! their first-born son, dagger, and their second-son…. STRIKER !

and, as in all mafia stories, there is no better prize than the benefits reaped from die-hard loyalty, so in addition to getting to marry a corallo girl… a series of unfortunate events ( i.e. some deaths and arrests ) led to the promotion from right-hand man to acting boss of none other than our very own warren kim

now being the child of an acting mob boss is stressful, but being the second-son of an acting mob boss is… slightly less stressful. see, cherry stepping Out of the spotlight was a strategic move on her own part but was entirely her own decision which meant that striker was free to choose the exact opposite

with no real mafia-related responsibilities or expectations ( other than keeping his mouth SHUT ) on his shoulders, he was more or less… free to roam however he wanted and as he’s always had a taste for the finer things in life, there’s no real surprise that he chose to follow his mother’s side of the family and became nothing short of a socialite in new york city 

which.. despite what the press says abt our #mans striker kim ( i.e. being a billionaire playboy, irresponsible, reckless, wild, etc. ) he’s smart n his main motivation for heading straight for the spotlight is bc every person who falls in love w him is part of a complex and expansive insurance policy that makes it that much harder for the mafia to make him Disappear, u know ?

this is one of the reasons why striker and dagger never Really not along, though striker’s always had this theory that dagger was built for nothing but the mafia anyway bc he’s straight up one of the meanest, cruelest,  most RUTHLESS people that striker has ever met. but, like, with a name like dagger… how could you not be?

things really start getting #Complicated for striker when he’s ABOUT to graduate from college and his dad yeets this mortal coil in a Shocking Tragic Unexpected death ! it doesn’t really affect striker all that much bc striker spent a lot of his life living with his grandfather in the city but… rather when his father dies it’s dagger that ascends into the role of acting boss and BOY OH BOY that’s nothing but trouble for striker 

dagger gets striker roped right back into the mafia that he worked his whole life to try n get out of.. just like that. sad.

and because striker is… como se dice…. a stubborn shithead with a penchant for the dramatics, he starts looking for a way to make his brothers life absolute hell because! yes! striker IS the person who fucks with the mafia! what a moron!

for a good few years it was just minor stuff, nothing really consequential, but that gets boring very quickly bc ... u know ... it is what it is 

ANYWAY. he really finds his in to what’s going to make dagger kim’s life HELL and that is getting himself involved in a little heist group. there are only so many events that striker can show his face that end with a robbery of some sort before it starts to become suspicious, and it doesn’t take a genius to connect the kim family to the corallo family to the lucchese family. it’s just enough to keep people talking but not enough to actively incriminate himself. and as long as he’s not publicly throwing the lucchese family under the bus, he’s still, by all accounts, insured by the mafia as the son of warren kim.

anyway! enough w the backstory! here’s some fun lil personality n headcanon stuff :’)

first and foremost.. he does have a face tatoo. ( and an eyebrow piercing and yes i have photos of both if u want to see them )  it’s of a crown on his left cheek and he   got it within a week of his father dying and dagger forcing him to come back into   the mafia to Assert His Dominance n show dagger he was still in charge of his own   goddamn decisions so fuck you dagger

dagger punched him in the face for getting the tattoo and he had a black eye for two weeks but you win some you lose some

on the surface? rich kid asshole!!! rich RICH kid asshole!!! you know the kind of guy you take one ( 1 ) look at him and you’re like yeAh u absolutely think that ur better than me ? that’s him 

does he rly think he’s better than u? unclear.. depends on who u are... i already have some thots abt who striker wld dislike hmu tho aha x

fluent in english ofc n also korean and italian, his primary language is lit rally a jumble of korean and italian tht nobody can understand but like.. him n dagger n his dad ( rip ) n he also knows a little spanish and japanese.

he’s afraid of horses but will never admit it

he loves to bet!!! he loves it!!! it’s probably from growing up in a family where making bets on things was a major source of income but he will 100000% place bets on anything there is to place bets on and will rope as many people into his betting pools as possible

he hasn’t had his gay awakening yet isn’t that tragic??  turns out the mafia ISN’T a very lgbt friendly place, who would have thought?? so that’s absolutely something that’s going to happen bc we know that i love to make my characters suffer esp when it’s related to their attraction to someone whew…

he’s somehow both the biggest gossip and the most secretive person that you’ll ever meet??? like he’s an instigator n will make offhanded comments abt what he’s observed other ppl doing recently that he thinks are… inch resting… and you’ll have this long ass conversation w him and not realize until like 2 hours later that he didn’t say one ( 1 ) thing abt himself the entire time

you know how finnick from the hunger games used to get paid for things w secrets??? that’s so striker to the core… like you can’t buy him or bribe him bc baby has $$$ and is so disinterested in the glitz and glamor of fast cars and expensive drinks and whatnot, so if you really want him to do something for him… you’re going to have to trade him some secrets… n that’s that on that!

he doesn’t like to take his shirt off around ppl bc #scars ( predominantly the large letter L that’s branded on his chest but there are some others that i haven’t decided on yet ) anyway he does not partake in the pool parties n as explanation has just always  told everyone that he doesn’t know how to swim… n he’ll die w that lie, thank u !

very paranoid... has 2 different phones w his contacts n codes.. folds his clothes a certain way so he can know if someone touched his stuff... has a fun in a safe under his bed that he changes the passcode to regularly.... he also has some ocd but a lot of it is #trauma

im sry there r so many points here i .. rly tried to trim them down n there are like 300% more in my app but.. whew... ok

i’m going to stop now but pls.. pls plot w me i beg ok thank u bye

[ofstvtches]

ROCKY LYNCH,  MASCULINE NB,  HE/HIM & THEY/THEM.  —  looks  like  SAMHAIN SKELLINGTON is  attending  AURORIA  UNIVERSITY  in  auradon.  they're  the  TWENTY  year  old  child  of  JACK & SALLY SKELLINGTON,  which  means  they're  from  THE ISLE.  heard  they're  NURTURING  &  GENTLEMANLY,  but  can  also  be  INFLEXIBLE  &  SELF-PITYING  ;  we  all  have  our  bad  days.  people  normally  associate  them  with  SEWING NEEDLES REPAIRING A BROKEN DOLL , A BAG FULL OF BANDAGES, TRYING SO HARD TO BE TOUGH WHEN YOU’RE SOFT , SOFT HAIR HELD BACK WITH A BAT-SHAPED PIN.

                    ❛  when you saw that little girl , and she was in the sandbox                            and she was crying , and you gave her your toy truck and                            I told you we couldn’t afford to get another one. you said ,                          ‘ she should have it because she’s sad. she’s sad , mommy. ’ ❜                            playlist. pinterest. to listen as you read.

lol u guessed it it’s me , again , by unpopular demand - i am so sorry. third muse already bc i can’t keep myself away from playing absolute CINNAMON ROLLS so that’s what u can expect from sam w/ a pumpkin spice twist. bc nightmare is my absolute favorite movie and ... halloween, motherfuckers. so as usual this will PROBABLY end up long bc i love writing sam so much so yeah , more below ! 

HISTORY 

So as we know , Jack & Sally were sent to the Isle w/ the rest of Halloweentown for trying to steal Christmas ! And unlike Christmas , Samhain was not born in Halloweentown. In fact , he wasn’t even born - he was made. 

Magic wasn’t a huge thing on the Isle - but a resource of science was Dr. Finkelstein , and despite the limited resources and technology on the Isle , the couple begged the mad scientist to create another child for them. And from Sally , it took a lot of convincing , but Jack was able to talk him into it. 

It took even more of an effort to pull off , again considering the state of the Isle. But a good few months into the project and Jack & Sally were greeted with the cries of a tiny ragdoll baby boy. Keeping up with the holiday themed names , he was named Samhain - Sam for short. 

He grew with multiple touch-ups from the doctor to simulate an actual boy growing up - every year , a check-up making him taller , stronger , etc. And in that process he started to look more and more like his mother , with her big eyes and stitched smile and patchwork clothes. But he grew up loved by his brother & parents - though it never quelled the fact he always wanted... more.

He was loved , he was coddled , and as sheltered as a child could be on the Isle. So , much like his mother , he took a habit of sneaking out frequently and trying to fit in with the other Isle kids , even though he knew he didn’t. 

He just wanted to fit in. That was it. And it started off with him wearing large hoods and heavy clothes to hide the stitches on his body as well as masks to cover facial stitches. And while some other Isle kids found him odd and sticking out like a sore thumb , some found him cool. Some found him interesting. But nobody really knew what he was hiding - and it added mystery to someone so NICE , because Sam’s overall sweetness could rival that if sugar’s. 

Curiosity only reached dangerous points though when Sam snuck out on night to camp out with friends - and when everyone else was asleep , one removed his mask , and of COURSE did Samhain immediately wake up. He didn’t stay to see the reaction of the other when revealing his stitches , too afraid that he’d be seen as scary or repulsive for what he was. And he ran. He ran back home , locking himself in his room , and those friends he routinely hung out with . . . well , he didn’t talk to them much after that. Because what if they knew , now ?? What would they think ??

Villain & Auradon kids coming together was a new chance for Sam to try and fit in - be more in his element. He was immediately acquainted with a magic-practicing individual ( could be an AK or a VK - this’ll be a wc ) who struck a deal with him to offer him glamours so he could look less scary. Of course , these glamours would have to be applied and would wear off until the next application , but it’d make him feel more comfortable - even though he WOULD technically be hiding who he is.

While Christmas , the elder sibling , would be sticking around in Auradon Prep , Samhain would prefer to move immediately to Auroria University to try and figure out who exactly he wanted to be , and how he could do that. Currently he’s majoring in Nursing , given he’s always had a rather NURTURING and charitable nature - never turning down someone else’s request to help.

CHARACTER & FACTS 

So lemme get this one thing out of the way bc if I don’t I’ll be itching about it - but all my resources for ( the love of my life ) Rocky were made by me , and while they’re all from multiple eras from both R5 & TDE , I imagine Sam to resemble how Rocky looks around the post-Louder , Heart Made Up On You & Sometime Last Night eras ( basically from like 2013-2015 ). Here , here , & here for some references. I’m nOT DONE GIFFING THOUGH bc frankly I find giffing him therapeutic.

Now I don’t have a drawn reference or anything for this next part so we’re gonna have to use our imagination here but unglamoured , Sam basically looks like his mom in terms of the fact he’s a little ragdoll baby. Putting on a glamour doesn’t change his appearance much save for the fact the stitches disappear and he looks more human. 

The glamour is an enchanted bat charm he wears around his neck that can also be used as a hairtie. And it has to be refreshed every so often , so he has to keep going back to whoever provided him with it so it doesn’t lose its effect.

He still has a backup mask just in case , and he’s been practicing with makeup if need be.

Personality-wise , the best one can describe Sam as is sweet and polite. I included tht Stranger Things quote at the beginning 4 a rEASON bc he’s honestly such a sweet kid and will give anything to anyone.

And also bc I imagine Sally as Joyce mom-wise so yEAH bt I digress.

He knows his manners and treats everyone with the UTMOST amount of respect , which makes it extremely easy to get along with him . He’s also maybe a tad bit too giving for his own good , since it’s incredibly easy to use that to one’s advantage and he’s so inclined to believe people have the best intentions. An optimist , even if it’s to a fault. And then when he gets hurt he just sits to the side feeling sorry for himself like “ :’’’(. ”

Now when I say he’s inflexible , I mean that Sam is a very ORGANIZED person who likes things to be done a certain way - like , he can never do anything without a plan , and if even something slightly goes out of what the plan pertains of , he panics. He’s a goody-goody and he’s afraid to break the rules , which is why he’s still hesitant to even do things with the friends who are more “ bad ” than he is.

Everything has to be done BY THE BOOK and if it isn’t then something is bound to go wrong and Sam’s too worried about that happening.

He’s also incredibly insecure about his appearance but I think I’ve hammered in that fact enOUGH ALREADY

But if he takes his glamour off in front u that’s like. A Major sign of trust. So beware.

Again as I mentioned he tries to hang out with kids with the lesser reputations because :

1.) He wants to give them a chance

2.) He wants to make sure they have a friend to look after them

and 3.) He’s so used to trying to fit in with the other Isle kids that he’s trying to be ‘bad’ himself but it never works out bc he’s so sweet and he can dress in skinny jeans and leather and shit as much as he wants but at the end of the day he’s still Sweet Lil’ Samhain. 

One thing he’s always had a fascination with would be angels - he’s always believed in them , always though he’s had his own guardian angel watching over him somewhere , he’s always loved the idea of them. He has lots of angel decorations around his dorm as well as ornaments and stuff for the holidays. It’s also pure irony that he just so happens to be just as angelic in nature.

He’s also a big holiday person like the rest of his family and loves helping to decorate for events and stuff !!

One of his greatest talents is his ability to play both the piano & violin , and he’ll often do that if there’s a piano in common areas or so on. He’s also a talented singer , but he’s so used to putting that to the side , making him lack confidence in his voice.

i v much encourage u to listen to the song i linked i find his voice so....soothing.

Like his mom he’s also very good at cooking , sewing , etc. !! Often has to stitch himself back together if he gets hurt - you know , Sally style. 

More basic facts are that his final height clocks in at 6′4 , he’s homoromantic homosexual , and identifies as masculine non-binary who doesn’t really care how you address him. He’s very chill. And sometimes he has to walk with a cane of sorts if his stitches are loose or if his legs are feeling especially weak.

but yeah that’s it on that end !!!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

So obviously - the person who provided him with the glamour. Only requirement is that ur character’s good at magic or something of that sort.

AND ALSO - I’d love the person who initially removed his mask !! Sam didn’t stick around to see them react to how he truly looked , so it’s all up to you on how this character feels. But he’s avoided them since that scenario.

Also , his group of friends around the time that scenario happened on the Isle. Maybe they’re a little more rough around the edges than him , but this group was always tight-knit. And then Sam lightning mcghosted bc he wasn’t sure if now they knew what he really was.

Ppl who think his whole sweet thing is fAKE bc we know it isn’t but it’s so easy to THINK it is.

Also would love some folks he routinely cares for maybe in the aspect of like. Bein their shoulder to cry on. Patching up a wound. Just being There for them. 

Folks who in general just wanna know more abt him bc he is kind of a mystery !!

Would lOVE sb who his glamour wears off in front of and he begs them to keep his secret but instead they want him to try n be more comfortable w/ himself and who he is. Bc he’s a cute ragdoll let’s b honest he just. Doesn’t see himself that way. 

Ppl who Sam crushed on at the Isle and deffo broke his heart bc life just b like that sometimes 

Also present day folks who r just ready to break his heart bc again thats so easy to do

also once more i’m open 2 ANYTHINNNNNNG sam is my Baby(tm) and i’d lov any plots thrown his way !! will probs make another wc page for him like i’ve done w/ luke and am in the process of doing w/ trixie !!

[giantchasm]

Can I make you find songs for all your faves? Jk, I know that's asking too much. How about doing Elise from Fire Emblem?

I think a pretty good Elise song is Brighter by Against The Current!

Sometimes we gotta risk it all to chase a dreamIt’s a dive in head first, all-or-nothing kind of thingEvery single time that we lay it on the lineIt’s a roller coaster ride for oneWhen you know it’s do or die and you’re running out of timeWe gotta give it all we’ve got

However, did you say ALL of my faves? You may have joked, as that is legitimately too much. BUT little did you know one of my favorite things to do is actually associate music with my interests! SO. I. I’m gonna do it. Under the cut I’m gonna list off a got damn song for every single one of my favorite characters… For my favorite fandoms. Admittedly ALL of them would be too much. But I’ll do it for Kagepro, Heathers, NITW, BMC, TWEWY, AND FMA (THIS IS LEGIT ONE OF MY SPECIAL INTERESTS AND I NEVER GET A CHANCE TO GET IT OUT. THANK U YOU HAVE SAVED MY LIFE.)

Sad Machine - Porter Robinson

I don’t know much about your life beyond these wallsThe fleeting sense of love within these God-forsaken hallsAnd I can hear it in his voice, in every callThis girl who’s slept a hundred years has something after allAnd though I know, since you’ve awakened her againShe depends on you, she depends on youI’ll go alone, and never speak of you againWe depend on you, we depend on you

True Love - PINK

At the same time, I wanna hug youI wanna wrap my hands around your neckYou’re an asshole but I love youAnd you make me so mad I ask myselfWhy I’m still here, or where could I goYou’re the only love I’ve ever knownBut I hate you, I really hate youSo much, I think it must beTrue love, true love

Plastic Flowers - The Front Bottoms

Listen, just because something burns brightDoesn’t mean it’s going to burn foreverSo all these people around you saying“You’ve got so much further to go!”“It’s going to get worse before it gets better”I don’t know… I don’t if that true

I’m Just A Kid - Simple Plan

I woke up, it was 7I waited ‘til 11Waited ‘til 11Just to figure out that no one would callI think I’ve got a lot of friends but I don’t hear from themWhat’s another night all alone?When you’re spending everyday on your ownAnd here it goesI’m just a kid and life is a nightmareI’m just a kid, I know that it’s not fairNobody cares, cause I’m alone and the world isHaving more fun than me tonight

Paper Dreams - Lucy Spraggan 

I’ll admit that I could look fitter,I might get jealous but I’ll never be a quitter,Stumble on your heels while i do up my shoelace,I might be a bitch but I’ll never be two faced.I’ll say what I want, and do what I do,I have my own friends and they hate you too,You have to give respect to get respect,Crawling back under your rock is your best bet.

Secrets - Mary Lambert

I can’t think straight, I’m so gaySometimes I cry a whole dayI care a lot, use an analog clockAnd never know when to stopAnd I’m passive, aggressiveI’m scared of the dark and the dentistI love my butt and won’t shut upAnd I never really grew up

Little Prince - AJJ

This juxtaposition of good and bad Remind me of the best and the worst dreams I’ve hadI’m either too happy or fucking sadAnd I can’t keep up with thatAnd my job, what a shame!Just a mountain of death filling up my brainI’m always tied to the tracks of the trainDesperately afraid of going insane

Misguided Ghosts - Paramore

I’m going away for a whileBut I’ll be backDon’t try and follow me‘Cause I’ll return as soon as possibleSee, I’m trying to find my placeBut it might not be here where I feel safeWe all learn to make mistakesAnd run from them, from themWith no directionWe’ll run from them, from themWith no conviction

Sum of Our Parts - Mary Lambert

I didn’t know I was a phoenixTill I learned how to speakEven with ashes in my mouth,I was still born to breatheI wonder are you like me?Were you left in the fire?Are you raising yourselfAbove your father’s empire?

Always Gold - Radical Face

Everything goes awayYeah everything goes awayBut I’m gonna be here until I’m nothingBut bones in the groundSo quiet downWe were opposites at birthI was steady as a hammerNo one worried ‘cause they knew just where I’d beAnd they said you were the crooked kindAnd that you’d never have no worthBut you were always gold to me

Human - Ellie Goulding

Human, I wonder why you’re a better make Than I could ever build or create,You know not love or hateI am so scared of what will kill me in the endFor I am not prepared,I hope I will get the chance…To be someone,To be human

Viva La Vida - Coldplay

I used to rule the worldSeas would rise when I gave the wordNow in the morning I sleep aloneSweep the streets I used to own I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy’s eyesListened as the crowd would sing,“Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!”One minute I held the keyNext the walls were closed on meAnd I discovered that my castles standUpon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot - Brand New

If it makes you less sad, I will die by your handI hope you find out what you wantI already know what I amAnd if it makes you less sad, we’ll start talking againAnd you can tell me how vile I already know that I amI’ll grow old and start acting my ageI’ll be a brand new day in a life that you hate

Anything I’m Not - Lenka

I will never beI will never be youNoI will always beI will always be meThat I knowBut, oh,Even thoughI’m happy being meI want to get awayFrom allThis harsh reality

(SHE’S HARD CAUSE SHE HAS NO CANON PERSONALITY. ME AND MY FRIENDS JUST KINDA PULLED ONE OUT OF OUR ASS ALL THOSE YEARS AGO WHEN TWEWY WAS OUR SI, BUT- WHEN WORST COMES TO WORST… OUR INTERPRETATION ALWAYS DID COME DOWN TO PINING LESBIANISM)

Jenny - Studio Killers

Jenny, darling, you’re my best friendBut there’s a few things that you don’t know ofWhy I borrow your lipstick so oftenI’m using your shirt as a pillow case

I wanna ruin our friendshipWe should be lovers insteadI don’t know how to say this‘Cause you’re really my dearest friend

Awkward Conversations - The Front Bottoms

Awkward situations followed by awkward hugsAnd these bullshit conversations take what little air is left inside myNothing but I’m writing like I’ve had too much to drinkLetting go of what we lostCome to terms with how you think of meAnd I love what you’ve done, you cut all tiesYou turned and runYou build me up, you take your fallYou led us straight into a wallAnd I’ll say, “I personally think it’s too cold to have the windows open,but you want to smoke your menthol cigarettes.”

(She gets three songs because I love her more than life itself)

Twelve Feet Deep - The Front Bottoms

Since when did “I wanna hear your voice” not become a good excuse?Calling you three in the morning, laugh at sleep that we’ll both loseMaybe college won’t work out, I can come live at your houseI’m supposed to be at class now but my roommate just passed outAnd I cannot get in my room, get all my books and what I needYou’re all I need but I am pretty sure your parents will never seeI’ll let it be, ‘cause it was never meant to beI’ll let it be.

You Said Okay - Flatsound

Sometimes when I look up I see starsThat cut through the sky and fade quickly into nothingness And I pray that you aren’t as fleeting Because when we’re lying in roads I get the same feeling That gravity will just turn off and I’ll fall endlessly Into something much larger than I am And I wonder if that’s what it feels like to die and If I’ll ever understand God in my lifespan Because I want to see God I want to know what god feels like 

A Small List of Things I Would Normally Hide

So I’ve been trying to let go of the things that torture me insideCongratulations, you’re cordially invitedTo a small list of things that I normally would hideLike high school: No comprehension of enough harmCodeine for numb hearts and patching up cut armsBut drinking cough syrup when you didn’t have a coughIs ironic, because in reality you’re sicker than you thoughtBut, like hearing new music, and being too scared to turn it upVirgin blood mostly told me to stop at the surface cutsAnd sometimes I wouldn’t eat more than a couple bitesAnd sometimes I’d go a week and not sleep more than a couple nightsAnd sometimes I’d get so wrapped up in the “couple life”When the “couple life” failed me the first couple times

Peach - The Front Bottoms (I guess the Nitwit gang is just a TFB crew. Also as a note this is abt him and Angus!

You are my peach, you are my plumYou are my earth, you are my sunI love your fingers, I love your toesThe back of your head, the tip of your noseAnd you are the reason I’m smiling when there is nothing to smile aboutYeah, you are the reason I’m smiling when there is nothing to smile aboutOne day you will find someone who will love you like you deserveBut tonight I’m the only one left, And I’m betting it’s a fact that you will never learn

Legit Tattoo Gun - The Front Bottoms (I HAD TO KEEP THE WEIRD NITW TFB THING GOING. Ignore the romance-y parts of this song. That’s not why I picked it.)

My head has thoughts What a ridiculous place to start She said, well, how about my chest Or, more specifically, my heartWhenever I’m alone or feeling lonely I pretend I can play the drums Inside my head and I am good I love these songs They love my songs

Putting The Dog To Sleep - The Antlers

Well my trust in youIs a dog with a broken legTendons too torn to begFor you to let me back inYou said I can’t prove to youYou’re not gonna die aloneBut trust me to take you homeTo clean up that blood all over your paws

Flagpole Sitta - Harvey Dagger

Put me in the hospital for nervesAnd then they had to commit meYou told them all I was crazy!They cut off my legs now I’m an amputee, God damn you!I’m not sick but I’m not wellAnd I’m so hot cause I’m in hellI’m not sick but I’m not wellAnd it’s a sin to live so well

Black Pear Tree - The Mountain Goats

I set the sapling in the holeStarted gently tamping down the dirtI saw the future in a dream last nightSomebody’s gonna get hurt, somebody’s gonna get hurtI hope it’s not meBut I suspect it’s going to have to be

Coming Back - Dean Ray

You can steal my mindTwist it for a while,But you can’t take my prideYou can watch me crack,Throw me way off track But I’ll keep coming backThe streets of Heaven never had a nameI found my own way thereI know I’m bound to lose my way againCause love and war is never fair

Soldier’s Daughter - Jhameel

Greetings good stranger I’ve seen the light as wellIt shines through my country and so i feel compelledTo hold my conscience to what the bible tellsAnd all I know is I don’t want to go to hellAnd peace and love and freedom are worth a bullet weltI learned this from my father who lived and who fellHe once took the oath before his flag and kneltHe died in the war and no remorse was felt

King of The World - Young Rising Sons

I know loss I’ve looked pain in the eyeI’ve seen the demons that live in the nightBut if I was kingIf I was king of the worldAll the talesThat have never been toldBuild up fires to keep away the coldWe’ll sing songsThat will never get oldWe’ll be here forever

(IM SORRY GLUTTONY MY BOY BUT I LEGITIMATELY CANNOT FIND A SONG FOR YOU IT’S BEEN LIKE 15 MINUTES)

(As a note this is for Selim Post-Promised-Day. Since that sort of scenario is when he becomes a fave. Hhhhhh “normal child” forced to remember he was a complete monster. MMM SLURP)

The Mute - Radical Face

And through them days I was a ghost atop my chairMy dad considered me a cross he had to bearAnd in my head I’d sing apologies and stareAs my mom would hang the clothes across the lineAnd she would try to keep the empty from her eyesSo, then one afternoon I dressed myself aloneI packed my pillowcase with everything I ownedAnd in my head I said goodbye, then I was goneAnd I set out on the heels of the unknownSo my folks could have a new life of their ownSo that maybe I could find someoneWho could hear the only words that I’d known

Your Heart Is A Muscle The Size of Your Fist - Ramshackle Glory

Like the time that our friend Chuck came over to our houseHe said he needed somebody to take care of his petsCause he was going out of townI asked him “Where?” and he said “New Mexico.”I asked if I could get a rideHe said: “No, you don’t want to follow meWhere it is I’m going.”He pulled out of the drive wayThat was the last time we saw himCause he drove straight to his parent’s cabinAnd put a bullet in his headYour heart is a muscle the size of your fistKeep on loving. Keep on fightingAnd hold on, and hold onHold on for your life

Terror(ism) - Jubyphonic

But where is it supposed to go?And where am I? I don’t even knowNever wondered muchBut now I’m stuck with all these funny feelingsTurned into the kind of person you had always hated? Well I wonder how it feelsTo hear the heavens laughing at you as they Point their fingers down at you and start to jeer“Why don’t you shut your ugly mouth and just go?”“Don’t wanna see you! Get outta my way!”All the bitter things…Start to hurt a little more and turn you grey

Hard Out Here - Lily Allen

I suppose I should tell you what this bitch is thinkingYou’ll find me in the studio and not in the kitchenI won’t be bragging ‘bout my cars or talking 'bout my chainsDon’t need to shake my ass for you 'cause I’ve got a brainIf I told you 'bout my sex life, you’d call me a slutWhen boys be talking ‘bout their bitches, no one’s making a fussThere’s a glass ceiling to break, uh-huh, there’s money to makeAnd now it’s time to speed it up 'cause I can’t move at this paceSometimes it’s hard to find the words to sayI’ll go ahead and say them anywayForget your balls and grow a pair of titsIt’s hard, it’s hard, it’s hard out here for a bitch

No Culture - Mother Mother

And I’m like a kid in a candy storeTaking all the taffy that I don’t ask for, yeahI’m like a bull in a china shopKnocking off a knock-off'Cause I got no cultureI got no culture of mineSo can we let sleeping dogs lie'Cause everyone believes me when I say it’s mineA little wool over the eyes'Cause everyone believes me

(He gets FIVE because I have LOTS of complicated feelings abt him and it takes more than one song to sum that up)

City - Hollywood Undead

The city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me?'Til the skies bleeds ashes and the fucking skyline crashesThey catch us with matches to ignite the flameAnd all the hopes of a youth deemed fucking insaneThey say “Take the pill”“In God we trust”“Go and kill”“God loves us”As in life as in deathBreathing 'til there is no breathI will not die in the night but in the lightOf the sun with the ashes of this world in my lungsBut who am I to say let’s all just run awayGrab your saints and pray, we’re gonna burn this world today

Clean Freak - Jubyphonic

“All people are different” you say bluntly Look at “Needing” and “Wanting” same seven letters But what if you’re wrong and change it up to be “We’re human” Whatever works to shut my mouth?  Then why not write a book? Words and letters To define it, definite answers to questions How to live dealing with lots of things Like when a boy and a girl want “pure relations” All of the people crying from all the loneliness in their hearts All of the people lying that they will understand every part All of the people truly think that love is a thing we take No one sees that we haven’t seen at all!

Tommy Gun - Royal Republic

I guilty stand before youI know I misbehavedI never meant to hurt youI humbly beg forgivenessHope that my soul be savedBut if I had a final wish…I would only ask this…I want you to kill me with a tommy-gun babyWith a tommy-gun baby kill meIf you have to kill me use a tommy-gun baby

Cry For Judas - The Mountain Goats

Some things you do just to seeHow bad they’ll make you feelSometimes you try to freeze time'Til the slots are a blur of spinning wheelsBut I am just a broken machineAnd I do things that I don’t really meanLong black night, morning frostI’m still here, but all is lostSpeed up to the precipiceAnd then slam on the brakesSome people crash two or three timesAnd then learn from their mistakesBut we are the ones who don’t slow down at allAnd there’s nobody there to catch us when we fall(Sad and angry, can’t learn how to behaveStill won’t know how in the darkness of the grave)

Above The Clouds of Pompeii - Bear’s Den

(You were a God in my eyesAbove the clouds, above the skiesYou were a God in my eyesYou were a God)

You said “Stay in the car and waitThere’s just some things I have to say”Don’t you know I miss her, too!?I miss her just as much as you…

So my father and my sonAs you end what she’s begunYou’ll lie patient by her sideWith roses red come lilies white

I was too young to understandThe flowers slipping from your handsI was too young to understandI was too young to understand

I was too young to understandThe flowers sleeping in her handsI was too young to understandI was too young to understand

Don’t cryHold your head up highShe would want you toShe would want you to

Video Games - The Young Professionals 

It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for youEverything I doI tell you all the timeHeaven is a place on Earth with youTell me all the things you wanna doI heard that you like the bad girlsHoney, is that true?It’s better than I ever even knewThey say that the world was built for twoOnly worth living if somebody is loving youBaby now you do

Polaroid - Imagine Dragons

I'mma hold my cards closeI'mma wreck what I love mostI’m a first-class let-downI'mma a “shut up, sit down”I am a head caseI am the color of boomThat’s never arrivingAnd you are the pay raiseAlways a touch out of viewAnd I am the color of boom

Try - Colbie Caliat

Put your make-up onGet your nails doneCurl your hairRun the extra mileKeep it slim so they like you, do they like you?Get your sexy onDon’t be shy, girlTake it offThis is what you want, to belong, so they like youDo you like you?You don’t have to try so hardYou don’t have to, give it all awayYou just have to get up, get up, get up, get upYou don’t have to change a single thing

Live Your Life - Mika

You’ve got the whole world in your pocketBut you just don’t knowEverybody’s smilin’ at you everywhere you goIt’s like you’ve got that secretThat everybody else wants to knowAnywhere you are is just like home to youFrom the beaches in ManilaDown to KatmanduYeah you’ve got that secretThat everybody else wants to knowBut you won’t ever let it go ohEverybody wanna hold your handEverybody wanna shine that brightEverybody wanna say they canEverybody wanna live your lifeEverybody wanna talk like youOnly wanna do the things you do'Cause they always gonna turn out rightEverybody wanna live your life

[wereikonics]

iKON's MAKNAE: JUNG CHANWOO  Appreciation thread

@/bianxstan on Twitter -  8:33 PM - 26 Dec 2018

I just want to warn those who are reading this. If you're an OT6 fan, pls feel free to unfollow me and pls do not interact w/ anything related to this thread i.e. don't reply and don't quote RT. We don't need that negativity.

The world is already cruel enough for all of us. Spare us the dramatics. I am tired of defending #Chanwoo from all of you. Though I'm tired of it, pls know that I won't stop doing it. So please allow me to spread love to others without your negativity tainting it. Here we go.

~

When M&M happened, I had no doubt in my mind that Chanwoo will be iKON's 7th member. I was as sure of it as I was that all OT6 will be in iKON. There was something abt him that captivated me. He wasn't the most talented or the most eye-catching. He wasn't even the most talkative.

~

However, Jung Chanwoo was the only person who was introduced in the show that, imho, was considerate towards what OT6 was going through. He realized that he's piercing through a bond that's so strong that his introduction to the group would not be received well and so he waited.

Photo Caption: (Screenshots from Mix and Match)

CHAN WOO only smiles, perplexed

B.I. - CHAN WOO, what are your thoughts on this?

Chanwoo - I like the song

~

From the very beginning, Chanwoo has always been the kind of person who refuses to be a burden. He wants to stand with his own two feet. He refuses to be acknowledged just because Hanbin was a great leader.

Photo Caption:  (Screenshots from Mix and Match)

Pictures of Chanwoo wiping away tears in the practice room

~

I love Chanwoo because he's always been self-aware of his capabilities and his position in the group. When faced with frustrations of things not going well, he recognizes the fact that compared to the others, he is lacking. He did not hide. He did not cower.

Photo Caption:  (Screenshots from Mix and Match)

Chanwoo: 

To be honest, I’m quite disappointed

about the fact that I’m not good.

and that I’m a burden.

I know I can do this but I’m not doing as well as I thought.

~

What he did was he stayed behind in the practice room to catch up to the groupmates he's pulling behind. His sense of self-accomplishment was strong enough to push him to do well and to prevent himself from lingering at the bottom line.

Photo Caption:  (Screenshots from Mix and Match)

Chanwoo: They said it would be a very difficult journey

and told me to brace myself.

So I’m not gonna give up even if it becomes really hard.

~

One of the reasons why Chanwoo blended in so well at that time was because Chanwoo, who was an outsider, already shared the same fierce determination and thirst for improvement that the OT6 was identified with.

Photo Caption:  (Screenshots from Mix and Match)

Chanwoo: I’m so disappointed.

Chanwoo: I don’t want him to think I’m not good enough.

Picture of a frosted glass door with the word ‘STUDIO’ in unfrosted glass

Picture of a paper that reads DUFFY LYRICS - “Mercy” along with the lyrics

Narrator: Chanwoo is practicing alone till late at night. 

He worked so hard to be acknowledged for his effort. He finally did in EP 6. But what squeezed my heart about that episode was the fact that Chanwoo shed tears because despite his efforts up to that point, he can't be fully happy while taking YOYO's spot.

~

He wasn't even at the bottom three at that time & yet he felt so bad taking a spot from the OT6. I realized at the end that he must have felt guilty since he'd always felt incapable. He must've thought that despite his efforts, someone else still deserves it more than he did.

~

At that moment, I thought to myself: "If there is anyone that should be with the OT6, it'll be Chanwoo." Because this kid has enough heart and empathy to realize that his success could be someone's failure in OT6. 

~

To me, a person w/ the kind of attitude to set aside self-greed to feel for those around him will seamlessly mold himself in the tenacious wall that OT6 have built around themselves. Because OT6 reached that far by thinking of the well-being of their members than themselves.

~

However, his anxiety and worry continue even after debut. After all, it can't be denied that their debut in 2015 means that Chanwoo only had over a year of professional training. He only had abt year to completely blend himself in the team.

Photo Caption: 

Chanwoo reading a letter onstage during their Japan Tour

“will I be able to fit in?” “Won’t I just be a burden to them?”

“will the fans acknowledge me?” “Everyday I was feeling anxious and worried”

“And I promised myself, I have to debut in iKON and show them”

“my cool side to repay them”

~

People don't realize that #CHANWOO has YEARS to catch up to when it comes to training. If you're a true iKONIC, you should've realized that Chanwoo was able to improve this much despite the huge time differential of training compared to others.

Photo Caption: Behind the Scenes video during iKON’s Japan tour 2018 

B.I. instructs Chanwoo and helps him practice dancing one on one in preparation for their upcoming performances. Various iKON members can be seen resting in different places around the room. 

B.I. - Let’s do it more seriously.

B.I - One more time.

B.I - One more time.

Picture of Chanwoo sitting on the floor, his hair drenched in sweat.

B.I - You turn your arm like this here. 

~

Do you guys ever think about how much he had to work harder to not be the black hole in iKON? Do you ever think about the humiliation and disappointment he must have felt each time he practice one-on-one with Hanbin?

Photo Caption: Behind the Scenes video during iKON’s Japan tour 2018

Close Up of Chanwoo as he talks in iKON’s temporary practice area, his hair drenched in sweat.

CW: I’m so tired that I can’t talk...

CW: We checked all the flow lines and then we checked the dance matching along with the music. 

CW: As you can see, we are practicing one by one with B.I.

CW: It’s also like this for around a month in Korea. 

~

Each session must've felt like a harsh slap of realization of what level his skills are compared to the others. This was taken just a year ago. Many would think that a debuted idol wouldn't work this hard. But Chanwoo isn't like that. He knows his goals & he WILL pursue them.

Photo Caption:  Behind the Scenes video during iKON’s Japan tour 2018 

Close Up of Chanwoo as he talks in iKON’s temporary practice area, his hair drenched in sweat.

CW: There is no shyness

CW: Even though I am embarrassed, but if I don’t work hard we can’t do it. 

CW: I’m thankful for B.I-hyung who is monitoring closely.

CW: I’ll work hard.

~

I've said this before. I hate people who count lines per member. Line allocation will never equate to song quality. Hanbin giving lines not suited to Chanwoo's skills will only be detrimental to him. But does Chanwoo deliver? YES HE DOES!

Tweet Citation and Photo Caption:

The utilization of the colourful vocal tones of the members allows a portrayal of different kinds of heartache. #CHANWOO didn’t get a ton of lines but I’m not disappointed. Line distribution is about how you deliver those lines. Chanwoo delivered a tenfold of emotions. #iKON

~

The way #CHANWOO opened the song with his low melancholic tone just hits you straight to the heart. It wasn’t extravagant; it was impactful. It was subdued, almost too passively, but that’s what one goes through during a break up. You can’t do anything but accept it.

~

At the bridge, when all the instrumentals were stripped down to almost nothing, I cried bec of the weight of emotions delivered within those two lines. #Chanwoo ’s part was the culmination of all the emotions depicted in this song’s narrative. His voice is just perfect for that.

Can also be found in ‘Goodbye Road’ Song Analysis Thread:

https://wereikonics.tumblr.com/post/184634621843/goodbye-road-song-analysis

I want people to realize that #Chanwoo was able to perform this well because he did not sit on his ass all day long playing games. Nobody else knows more than Chanwoo himself how much he is lacking compared to the others. We all have only seen a glimpse of his talents.

~

I want to remind you that this year's releases were mostly written in 2015. We have yet to fully taste what these boys have to offer years after 2015. Don't get stuck on what could've been. It's been 4 years since the show.

~

Ask yourselves this: in any of iKON's dance practice videos, was there ever a moment when Chanwoo was a blackhole? As a matter of fact, Jinhwan makes more mistakes on choreo than Chanwoo ever did. This boy did not get on stage despite his injuries just for you to discredit him.

~

This boy did not get into iKON because of pity. He didn't get on that stage because he was forced to. He worked his ass off day in and day out knowing that his lack of skills could be harmful for the rest of them. But even when that fear lingers, he didn't let it foster.

~

Though Chanwoo has this fear, he would never beg for lines from Hanbin. Hanbin allows this because this is the only way Chanwoo will truly improve and genuinely feel accomplished. There is no shortcut to success.

Photo Caption: iKON on Weekly Idol

Chanwoo is speaking to Hanbin while they are holding hands

CW: This is what I want to say.

CW: I’m not good which is why I have a small part.

Yunhyeong points toward Hanbin as he looks to Chanwoo

Yunhyeong: Tell him now that you want bigger parts

CW: I’ll work harder

~

So before you question Chanwoo's work etiquette, I want you to think about the position you're in. Because at this moment, as you write those comments discrediting Chanwoo's hard work, it isn't his ass sat on a chair with your face buried in front of a computer.

~   

I'm ending this thread with Chanwoo's poem. Because I want people to realized that regardless of how much hate you throw, we're all just trying our best to live on. We're all on the same ground. You're not special.

[YT Link to iKON TV - Junhoe PD Episode excerpt - Jung Chanwoo’s Mosquito Poem]

~

Disclaimer: All photos belong to their rightful owners. I leave all credit to the rightful translators. PS: If I continued to make this longer, I'm at risk of a heart attack because of pent up frustrations lol PSS: STAN CHANWOO PSSS:

@/bianxstan on Twitter -  8:32 AM - 15 Dec 2018

If you're truly a fan of iKON, you would understand why it's hard for Chanwoo to bring his members to film for his YT. Chanwoo is a very considerate person. He would never do anything to make someone uncomfortable.

~

Besides, he knows how it feels like for the members because he lives the same lifestyle. Also, the members are not selfish to refuse to go on Chanwoo's channel. They help him out when he asks. So please, give Chanwoo the freedom to film whatever he wants with whoever he wants. 

Please subscribe to Chanwoo’s YT Channel if you haven’t already