#but since yknow I dared to stand up for myself

[sensitivegoblin]

….

[akiraarabella]

This is me appreciating RWBY, I'll be jumping from one point to another so dont worry if im not making any sense. its not you!

All of these past volumes for me doesn't feel rushed (it maybe because I've finished it in 2 days so thats on me) but i feel when i think about volume 10 and the story so far is that yknow when you start writing a book just because of that one scene you made up in your head. So now you need to build up the characters and the events for that scene to make sense. I feel like in nine volumes we got a good setup for "that scene" thats gonna happen In volume 10 or maybe even 11 who knows. Do you get what i mean? No? GREAT! SEEMS LIKE WE'RE OFF TO A GOOD START!

Can i also just say that Jaun's VA killed it in the 7th episode of Volume 9. Both arguments that Ruby and Jaun makes.. I can't help myself but watch the 7-8-9-10th episodes of volume 9 again and again. This whole volume was directed on character development mainly for Ruby since the other characters already had their arcs before this volume except for her and Jaun. (Jaun kinda did as well but never got the closure he needed which was acceptance and he learned that in the volume 9)

And i gotta be honest even from the start Neo was the most intriguing "villain" For me. Maybe because of her design choice or her semblance but something about her made me really like her. And I'm glad they went the way they did for her story too.

I'm saying it again. If Neo doesn't come for our rescue with the jabberwockies im gonna throw some hands.

AND the way they used the Blacksmith in the tree and the story is just UGHH BRILLIANT!!!

The whole politics shenanigans with ironwood in the previous volumes were really made this feel a bit too real especially Nora standing up to Ironwoods plan was just chefs kiss. IM A BIASED NORA FAN COME AT ME I DARE YOU

AND ALSO WHEN I SAY I SCREAMED HEARING CHRISTINA VEE'S VOICE IN THE SHOW I MEAN I SCREAMED ALRIGHT!!!! that was a jumpscare moment for me

Another also PIETRO MY MAN BEING VOICED BY LEE HIMSELF?! (i know VAs name is not lee im talking abt the twd game lee dont get it wrong) I KNEW I HEARD THAT VOICE FROM SOMEWHERE!

Glad Emerald is on our side now. Can't wait to see how much of a time jump we had between volume 9 and 10 AND for more ✨TRAUMA✨ let's get it fam! Keep up the hype!

[shirefantasies]

From mossthebogwitch I had no idea what i was doing but I did my best.

Since it was now a dare i am submitting myself for a matchup: presently I am mortified.but too curious to back down now. I have sealed my own fate per usual. I appreciate you taking me on this journey and hope you enjoy the experience! I don't know what gender I prefer in partner: I have a huge weakness for Kíli - I have no hard fast rules- just have fun it's a Tumblr matchup yknow?🤣

I would prefer Hobbit based matches since that is my current hyperfixation.

I radiate golden retriever energy: loyal, never gonna give you upn never gonna let you down, never gonna turn around and desert you. I'm the unofficial security guard according to my boss. I have a level head under pressure and I don't back down.  I have a constant stream of humor. The comedy doesn't end. I enjoy being an artist and writer in many media's. I study folklore and weird nature things. Im the weird facts kid grown up to the ' adult who knows how to do a bunch of different things'.

I have trouble socializing due to anxiety and OCD. Because of this I'm naturally more of a watcher until I feel comfortable.  I'm either casually friendly or hiding behind other people talking.  I'm a mom friend and the one people go to for help. I work in counseling its natures pipeline.

If I'm not working, reading, tending my pets, wild foraging for supplies or exploring hiking trails, I can be found cobbling together my house and garden from whatever I get my grabby hands on.

I have a community garden and regularly supply winter camping gear, food, first aid, and hygienic supplies. I do feral cat housing too so I just do a lot of weird stuff. Last week I saved a squirrel?? Befriending crows is starting this week lol. Never dull.

I plan on painting my entire house in fantasy based murals and hiding meme paintings behind appliances..Spock is behind my stove.

One funny thing i do that my coworkers thinks is hilarious is I have an entire measurement system for measuring animals using only potatoes as a counting system. Yknow how you count horses with hands?I count animals using potatoes and i am right every time the key is when to switch your counter between Russetts and Yukon golds. It's a good day when a growing animal graduates from being counted from russetts to Yukon golds.

I'm 5'0  and don't mind because I grew up LOTR with Gimli!! He's short and I'm short too!! I am told I have mood ring eyes that change shades of blue with my emotions and I'm red green color blind so that's fun.

Voted most likely to have a mug of coffee or tea in hand at work while I give one of my coworkers a gentle peptalk which turns into me pulling out the Gimli scale and asking them where they are on there today.

Yes, this is great @mossthebogwitch ! More detail always helps on my end 🥰 also you sound like such a fun person I wanna be friends 😆😆😆 the potato counting & secret memes are legendary OMG! I definitely saw you with a dwarf right away, but after some thought, I decided on...

Bofur!

You meet under curious circumstances, you having settled at the foot of the great mountain after the war. Thinking you are alone, you had made your way to the woods, idly walking until a chattering squirrel spiraling up a tree distracts you. Given your love of animals, you strike up a conversation, getting quite lost in it all when a jovial voice rings out behind you, asking if you’re getting along, then. Turning, you see a dwarf with a large floppy hat and twin braids standing a ways behind you, apologizing for startling you- you must've jumped more than you realized. In the end, he introduces himself as Bofur and offers you a piece of one of his brother's biscuits from his pockets to give to the squirrel. Finding out that he works as a toymaker, you promise to visit his shop, and when you take in all the wonders he creates with his cousin, well, you can hardly stay away! Bofur ends up enlisting you to paint murals upon the walls of his and Bifur’s shop, which the young ones of Erebor and New Dale alike delight greatly in. Bifur is very impressed by your art and building skills, elbowing Bofur at every chance he gets and waggling his eyebrows over the amazing lass that’s seemingly just fallen into his life.

The first time Bofur actually initiates some time alone with you, he asks you to join him for a night in town, and that’s when he learns you work with livestock. You best believe he laughs his mustache off at your counting technique and also vows to steal it. You can see in his manner, though, and what you know of him that he would be great with the animals too. He can see that you prefer him not to ask so many personal questions and to lead the conversation which he is more than happy to do! He tells you all about his family, the quest he went on, his funny nice hobbit friend Bilbo, where to get the best ale in town if you’re into that sort of thing, a cool rock his brother found in the mines the other day, you name it! Everything is lighter when you two are together. Ever the gentleman, he waits to share your first kiss until he is completely sure you’re ready.

Bofur loves your height; you are a few inches taller than him, not much but just so that he can rest his forehead against yours and put his head on your shoulder. Either one of you can cuddle against the other’s chest as desired. Knowing how much of your time goes to helping others, though, brings the dwarf to lean heavily towards caring for you whether that means he is the one holding you or singing for you or simply by giving you lots of time to get comfortable and express your needs, even if it’s hard. Even in your most tender moments, though, both of you are cracking jokes. Always laughter between you two! Anything big gets called a Yukon Gold with you two because he just loves that saying so much.

If you are comfortable with it, Bofur loves to take you dancing just to show you off! He also adores the way you’ll stand up for him if anyone is mean or pushy- your loyalty is astounding and you truly have a dwarf-like spirit. He gets heart eyes when you become a de facto bouncer and actually throw a drunk or two out of the place. He also takes you camping, pitching a tent and bringing your supplies so you can stay wrapped outside with your animal friends and some weenies to roast beneath the stars.

Teases you to high heaven about being colorblind, though. Overdramatically reminds you what color you’re painting that toy, asks you if you’re sure that’s the right color for the leaves on your mural. Feel free to smack him lightly, he knows he deserves it and he’ll just laugh! If anxiety or OCD symptoms lead to you having a routine or a placement of things that being comfort (if so, big mood friend!), Bofur is definitely the best at remembering to have them out there and follow that for you, no questions asked. You’ll feel so cared for, that his house is a home. You are his warm hearth, his neverending laughter, the only person who could convince him to take home a wounded opossum and call it Bofur jr. but this is his life now and you know what? Bifur was right- he’d run into quite a catch in those woods, a lass far more beautiful than any old fern or flower.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @pirate-lord-of-narnia @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[battlemaiden13]

OH MAIDEN! I GOT AN IMAGINE SUGGESTION!

okokkok this takes place in a reality similar to hnd but syrup is like 10x more yandere. All the other AUs are normal and they all crush on MC. Syrup is deep deep deeply OBSESSED and in love with MC to the point that he basically kidnaps her and holds her hostage. yknow, the usual. He basically manipulates and sometimes torture her "in the name of love". he isolates her from friends and family, often goes as far as to threaten putting their lives at risk if she dares to leave him.

Everyone is frantic about the news that MC is missing, and syrup being the master of no emotion isn't suspected in the slightest.

Months pass by, not a sign of MC. The devastating possibility of her death is hanging over the skulls of our beloved skeletons, even tho she is very much alive, physically at least, her soul is almost fully drained from the hell syrup puts her through because of his love.

Until one day, one skeleton somehow in some way stumbles across an old cabin in the deep forest behind the skeleton's residence. It seems... suspiciously well gaurded for something so rotten and decaying. Our curious skeleton decides, ah wth let me check it out. As they approach the cabin, it seems fairly normal.

However as they approach closer, they hear shallow breathing. So weak, so fragile, so...done. This peeks their interest as they quietly near the cabin. Till they accidentally step on a stray branch. a deafening CRACK fills this eerily quiet forest. A sharp, almost terrified gasp rings from inside the cabin, followed by hurried shuffling. Almost as if whatever is in there is crawling desperately away from the sound.

The skeleton decides to push forward, concerned. They stand infront of the gaurded door and try to turn the knob that obviously wont turn. (If its a papyrus personality, they summon a bone that they use to break the lock of the door. If its a sans personality, they lock pick the door open). As they entered the cabin, the creaking of the door echoed loudly throughout its halls. They ventured further, finding yet another door....thats also chained shut? behind it, they hear soft sobs.

They open it in the same way they did the door before. In this room, they see a frame of a human cowering in the corner, crying with their hands covering their ears in fear. no..it.it cant be. They notice an all too familiar face turn to them. Dark eye bags, flush face, sickly paler skin, bruises, half assed bandages wrapped around their neck and limbs. dried. blood. everywhere. Their eyes are filled with terror, thinking that its their captor coming to torture them again, only to feel the world around them stop as they lock eyes with the newcomer.

A sense of immense relief and happiness floods MC's soul as she realizes who is in the room. But that suddenly washes away as she remembers the threats syrup told her if she tried to escape.

A new round of tears well up in her eyes as she desperately crawls and holds the skeleton tight. She begs them to leave "before he comes back and hurts you too" whilst she clings to them for dear life. Craving any comfort she can get, knowing that itll only get worse from here. Another crack sounds off in the woods outside the cabin.

MC immediately detaches from hugging the skeleton and scurries back into her corner. Her breathe is heavy yet shallow. Her eyes wide and alert. Her body starts to shake again. She starts to whisper quickly "leave leave leave please leave. he's here. h-he's gonna hurt you. i d-don't know how i-i'll live with myself if he does. please. GO!" her voice getting more and more desperate as heavy footsteps approach the cabin.

Your turn maiden. How would the main skeletons react to this situation? especially Berry since this is his brother, would he get hurt? you can add any other skeletons you want too!😶‍🌫️🩷

Sans - Sans isn’t leaving you, especially not in the state you are currently in. He’s one of the toughest boss monsters out there, he can handle whoever comes through that door. Although he is a bit taken aback when he sees Syrup but Sans can beat any of the skeletons. It just takes some effort. You’re coming home though, Syrup won’t hurt you ever again. 

Papyrus -Papyrus is too busy trying to calm you down, trying to tell you the two of you can get out of here together. When he sees Syrup he asks him for help but it’s Papyrus's down fall, his trusting nature almost always is. Syrup dusts him without a second thought. 

Red -He needs to see who it is first, he needs to know who you are so scared of and as soon as he does he is shortcutting you both out of there. Red knows if he takes Syrup alone he could lose so he is getting help. Syrup isn’t getting away with this. 

Edge -He wants to stay with you, to take you with him but he can see how scared you are and he knows better than to wait around. He promises he’s coming back for you before heading back home. Edge becomes meticulous, as he tries to figure out who took you. It doesn’t take him long and then Edge does something he hardly ever does. He asks for help. In the end Syrup escapes but you are safe and Edge and the others are going to make sure it stays that way. 

Blue -He listens to you, despite not wanting to but Blue doesn’t make it back home. He does manage to seriously hurt Syrup after the tall skeleton tracks him down but Blue left clues for his brother and feels that his sacrifice will be worth it. 

Orange - As he grabs you to shortcut away he glances around, taking in any information he can and he knows exactly who took you. Your panicked when you get home but Orange calms you down before going to Berry and tells him everything. It’s on Berry now but if the small skeleton doesn’t do anything Orange will go to Sans and they will deal with Syrup. Syrup isn’t getting away with this. 

Berry -Would get a pass from his brother but Berry can’t stand what Syrup did. Berry hates what he has to do but he isn’t letting his brother get away with this. He makes Syrup turn himself in but Berry can’t stand to look at his baby brother after what he did. 

[eightmakesonebraincell]

GAH YOU GAVE A WHOLE ESSAY AND A HALF IN REVIEWS I'M GOING TO SMOOCH YOU 😭 this has made me so so happy like i've reread it 239485213415 times since i've woken up <33

NOT YOU EXPOSING ME only the real ones know i started with trusty ol' docs 😍😍😍 it served me well but indeed befunky >>>>> the time it takes to do the moodboards now 📈 but the end product ?? also 📈📈📈 i dare say HOHOHO (AND IT REALLY /IS/ THE TINT ISTG)

god i can never get over hongjoong's smexy smirk like the audacity of the man to LOOK at the camera and do /THAT/ ??? 🥵🥵 indeed 🥵🥵 but you're so right because i stand by the belief that hongjoong is a hard dom and he loves to and WILL brat tame so what's it to him if we just yknow push some of those buttons to get there 🤭 LMAO yumi pulling through as my cursing thesaurus <333

MAFIA HWA MAFIA HWA MAFIA HWA he's so cUTE and SOFT with you like uGH i want him so bad 🥺 and defs we know that he was taking his role as the teacher in those self hwafense classes 👏seriously👏 bc he got knocked out HOHO

yunho is so dirty joke coded i love him so much :')))) nwrs i'm putting myself in jail timeout for the amount of innuendos and dirty jokes i've put in this fic 🤪 (it's okay i thought of blood pressure too that's why i had to specify that it meant big puppy LOL) I'LL MAKE YOU A HEART OUT OF BULLET HOLES <3

AND I WILL ALSO CALL YOU MY CUTE LIL BACKPACK (bc we both know we single af and no one else will do it for us 🤡) (and you really do just laugh whenever i put a curse word in you've got a potty brain and potty humour AHHAHA) me writing the cutest lil snow scene when i've never seen snow before 😌☝️

san will forever be sexy san but it will never have a ring to it as nice as sexy servant san 😔👇 YES I LOVE DRAMATIC ENTRANCES WHERE THE DUDE(S) ENTER ALL COOL AND SMEXY LIKE YES BACK 👏 ME 👏 UP 👏👏👏 BEAT 👏 THEM 👏 UP 👏👏👏

mingi being a tall scary 6ft mafia guy but being the shyest cutest stuttering mess in front of the girl he likes is my roman empire and honestly idk why i didn't write about the coat again but you best bet there's like ten of his coats just hanging around the bar and yn's house LISTEN TO MY HEARTEU BEATEU

yes i think yeo's or woo's moodboard is also my favourite they just HIT DIFFERENT with the vibes 😫 (i'm pretty sure woo's was one of the very first ones i wrote so it's probably been like a month and a half since you read it) i say this every time but woo is a MENACE and he will do whatever he can (wants to)

AFKJDGHJDSG THE DIRTY ROLEPLAY SWITCH THAT /YOU/ TRIGGERED 🫵 DON'T ACT INNOCENT DGFSGFSH jongho definitely made it his own personal mission and competition to make reader sync with the alarm HOHOOH

ateez as mafia boyfriends (christmas special)

genre: mafia!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, brainrot and smutfest of mafia x christmas tropes

length: 13.8k

c/w: nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), graphic depictions of death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (murder, abduction, corruption), pet names (kitten, babe, baby, love, sweetheart)

a/n: this one’s for yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic), mafia anon and everyone who’s sent in an ask about mafia!ateez before 🫶 loosely based on aammwffy but this is still a standalone fic not part two thank you for coming to my ted talk 😙✌️ merry christmas y'all

hongjoong

the stocking in your hand jerks when you suddenly feel it

it’s a black stocking that hongjoong has made for wooyoung from out of a spare shirt

there are already several other hand-made stockings hanging on nails that he has hammered into the wall of the warehouse

and this whole ‘ateez’s mob boss couple decorates the gang’s old warehouse for christmas’ shenanigan would have been cute and wholesome…

if not for the vibrator that is currently pulsing inside your throbbing pussy

“why’d you stop, kitten?” hongjoong murmurs into your ear from behind your shoulder, knowing very well the reason why is currently in the pocket of his black slacks

when you struggle to answer, he snakes the hand that isn’t toying with the remote around your waist to the front of your pants

“hmm? what’s wrong?” he asks teasingly

your knees buckle when he suddenly cups your core, pressing the vibrator further into you as he switches it to a higher setting

gripping onto his forearm to ground yourself, you’re unable to stop yourself from moaning at the feeling of his muscles rippling underneath your fingertips while he grinds his hand against you

but as soon as you feel your high approaching, it is ripped away from you

hongjoong switches the vibrator off and removes his hand

you are close to cursing him out, but the way that you can feel the hardened front of his slacks chase after your ass for friction whenever you move away even the slightest has you confident that it will not be long until he is cracking

until he begs for you

letting out a shaky exhale, you hang the stocking still in your grip next to mingi’s one; a dark, navy blue that used to be a fluffy towel, now repurposed for christmas

hongjoong passes you the last stocking but you let it drop to the ground

“oops,” you drawl coquettishly

you bend over to pick up jongho’s stocking, slowly and deliberately brushing up against hongjoong’s cock with the curve of your ass

you smirk when the friction draws out a guttural groan from his chest

a hand comes to rest just below your waist, “you’re playing with fire right now, kitten” 

“looks like we need a little…water to put it out, then,” you press back against him once more

he snaps

it’s not long before the tip of his swollen cock is pressing against your entrance, his slacks still bunched around his thighs in his hurry to fuck you

he pulls out the vibrator and he shushes your whines at the feeling of emptiness by thrusting three fingers right into you

“fuck, kitten,” he mouths the side of your neck, “you’re already stretched out and ready for my cock”

your mind goes fuzzy at his words and hongjoong smirks in satisfaction

sliding his fingers from out of you, he lines the tip of his cock between your legs-

you both freeze when a loud clang resonates throughout the warehouse, like someone has hit the outer steel walls

hard.

“kim hongjoong!” an unfamiliar voice yells with fury from outside

another clang, this time closer towards the entrance

there’s not much holding the warehouse doors closed; you two weren’t exactly expecting hostile visitors

“you think we can get a round in before they make it through the doors?” hongjoong asks

“if you can cum in the next ten seconds, sure”

a colourful string of curses leaves his mouth before he pulls out of you and fixes his slacks - with difficulty, you must say - while you adjust your own clothes

just in time for the warehouse doors to fling open

“you killed my fucking brother, you motherfucking bastard!”

“who are you again?” hongjoong leans back to rest against the edge of the table while he watches you pick up jongho’s long-forgotten stocking on the floor. “you’ll have to remind me.”

numerous men stride in towards the far end of the warehouse where you two are - were - hanging up the stockings

you look away with disinterest; it’s nothing you and hongjoong can’t take care of

“kyungseok,” the man grits out, jaw clenching with irritation when neither of you show any signs of recognition. “you killed my brother, kyungtae. leader of the bluebirds.”

at his last word, it finally clicks

“ah,” hongjoong cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck lazily, “the one who thought they could touch my kitten and get away with it”

meanwhile, you step back after hanging the last stocking on the wall, admiring the row of decorations

you direct your question at the man behind you, “what do you think, kyungtaek?”

“it’s kyungseok,” he snarls

you wave dismissively, pressing a kiss against hongjoong’s jaw as you praise, “these look wonderful, babe”

you hear kyungseok yell out at his lackeys followed by a flurry of movement

hongjoong sighs, sneaks a kiss in, and then gently steps the both of you to the side out of the path of an incoming kick

“if we make this quick, maybe i can finish fucking you before seonghwa and the others get here,” he winks

then you two move

in quick succession, you use the momentum of their thrown punches to yank two men over your shoulder, one after the other

the wind is knocked out of them and you aim a sharp blow to their necks to render them unconscious

realising that close combat may not be the best idea, another bluebird member brandishes a knife to gain the upper hand

“weapons? that’s not very fair,” you purr

you lunge forward before you have even finished your sentence, catching him off guard and grabbing hold of his arm

twisting his wrist backwards, he shouts in pain as his grip on the knife loosens and it clatters to the floor

“oh dear,” you mock, your hands twisting up to curl around his throat

vaguely, you register hongjoong yell out your name

“duck!”

you barely have time to crouch, your hand yanking down the man with you from where your fingers are still wrapped around his throat, before a burly male is tossed right over your body and sent careening into the table nearby

you watch in dismay as cookies scatter onto the floor, wood splintering with a loud crack

“fuck you, hongjoong, i spent ages arranging them onto the plates”

he has the audacity to smirk in apology while he wraps his arms around the neck of another man and twists, forearms flexing as the bone gives way with a sickening snap, “sorry, kitten”

the man whose throat you have been squeezing is now limp and he sags to the floor

he’s too heavy for you to throw at hongjoong, so you settle for picking up the knife you disarmed and fling it at your boyfriend

“duck,” you tease

hongjoong rolls his eyes and drops his body towards the ground, your knife hurtling past the empty space where his forehead was just milliseconds ago, before it hits its mark and makes itself home in the chest of a man who has been sneaking up from behind

moving in tandem, hongjoong extends his leg and sweeps it along the ground to knock the thug off his feet

the man’s arms fling backwards as his weight crashes towards the ground, colliding into the christmas tree you had decorated earlier and taking it down with him

you pinch the bridge of your nose as the ornaments shatter

“oops?” hongjoong shrugs his shoulders noncommittally 

stepping over the lifeless bodies scattered by your feet, you move away a little to pull out your phone

most of the bluebird gang has already been taken out; hongjoong can handle the rest himself

“hey, seonghwa and i are nearly there,” yunho’s voice sounds over the receiver

“oh,” you hum contemplatively, “is anyone else still on their way?”

“probably wooyoung. you know him, he’s always late,” he chuckles into the phone, “why?”

“can you see if he can buy some new ornaments? and pick up some fresh cookies while he’s at it”

there’s a yell and a loud thud as a body rolls to a stop just a few feet away from you

“what was that?” yunho startles

hongjoong has picked up the fallen christmas tree and is currently swinging it around like a crazed batter

“just hongjoong having some fun”

when you hang up, you are just in time to hear the loud thwunk as the tree connects with kyungseok’s temple

you’re not sure whether the splinter you hear is a result of the trunk or his skull cracking

the last bluebird member drops down dead, blood pooling out from under him

hongjoong scoffs, “merry fucking christmas”

and for good measure, hongjoong shoves an intact bauble into the man’s mouth

it’s finally silent

“now,” he turns to you, “where were we before we were…interrupted”

at hongjoong’s predatory gaze, you feel the arousal from before washing over you

he approaches you leisurely as he uncuffs his sleeves to roll them up, loosening the top buttons of his shirt, all the while undressing you with his lustful eyes

you drink up his appearance, eyes raking over his exposed chest that shines with a sheen layer of sweat

he’s in front of you now

“looks like i’ll have to prepare you again, kitten”

his fingers start to slip under the waistband of your panties when-

“heard you fucktards knocked over the cookies!”

his voice echoes throughout the warehouse before he even steps foot into the warehouse

wooyoung is fucking early.

you’re quite positive hongjoong is about to deck him through the roof

“wow,” wooyoung lets out a low whistle as he walks in to survey the scene, eyes scanning wildly over the splattered blood and mutilated bodies across the floor with an expression that appears mostly impressed

hongjoong’s clenched fists are white

uncaring of his leader’s lack of response, wooyoung continues, “when you told us the dress code was red, i didn’t think you meant this kind of red”

he approaches you two to squat down beside kyungseok’s body and taps the bauble in his mouth with interest, “rad decorations”

you watch in amusement as hongjoong’s last string snaps

“wooyoung,” he says evenly

it goes in one ear and out the other

wooyoung looks around as he asks, “can i tie him up with tinsel before the others get here?”

“jung wooyoung”

said man finally blanches

good thing too

because you don’t think hongjoong is joking when he says,

“if you don’t get the fuck out right now, you are going to become part of the decorations.”

seonghwa

“remember, as soon as i leave-”

“i need to lock the door,” you finish seonghwa’s sentence cheekily

he chuckles as he shakes his head fondly, “and if you feel like anything is off-”

“call you or hongjoong straight away,” you mimic, emphasising the last two words with the same seriousness he nags you with all the time

despite your words, your heart flutters shyly at seonghwa’s neverending protectiveness and worry for you

with his line of work, it isn’t easy for him to leave your side, much less leave you alone in the apartment

he understands though

it’s only been a few months since he found you; barely a shell of the curious, energetic and endearing person that you are now

under his careful nurturing, you have flourished and learnt to love and trust again

it doesn’t mean that you are quite ready to leave the apartment just yet for something other than a quick grocery run or walk in the park with seonghwa at your side

but it’s okay - baby steps

“i’ll be back at 6 and then we can cook dinner together,” he kisses your temple sweetly, “see you later, love”

you watch as he lingers outside the door, feet always ever so reluctant to leave

he motions for you to close the door and you know he won’t leave until he sees that you have closed and locked it

so with a final wave, you shut the door, turn the lock and then press your ear right up against the wood

he thinks you don’t know that he does it, and you won’t admit to it in fear that he will stop out of embarrassment

but you hear him whisper love you before his footsteps recede down the corridor

you have most of the day to yourself until seonghwa comes back

he had said that hongjoong was giving the gang christmas night off, a pleasant and welcome change from all the nights you fight the sleep tugging at your eyelids as you wait curled up on the sofa for seonghwa to come home

you occupy your day with little odd jobs here and there around the house, like washing the dishes and doing the laundry and cleaning the bedroom

he always tells you off because he wants to be the one doing them for you, but the small exasperated smile that he gives you every time barely conceals his underlying fondness

and then when you have exhausted the chores, you pull out a pencil and some paper and start drawing out ideas for a gingerbread house

because seonghwa had promised to make one with you later tonight once he discovered you had never tried it before

you cannot contain your excitement as the clock finally ticks to six

your little sketches lay abandoned across the coffee table as you start to pace the living room skittishly, ears perking up whenever you hear noise outside

half an hour passes just like that but there’s still no sign of seonghwa

that’s okay, you tell yourself

you understand that he doesn’t have a normal office job where he can just clock out and walk away as he wishes

sending him a quick text asking if he is on his way home, you busy yourself with lining up all the utensils on the kitchen counter perfectly parallel, just the way he likes it

the chopsticks

the spatula

the knife

the cooking board

again.

the chopsticks

the spatula

the knife

the cooking board

you glance up at the clock

it’s seven

you tap on your phone to bring the screen to life

no notifications

you try to quell the growing panic inside of you

but you cannot ignore the fact that seonghwa would usually send you a quick message when he is held up by something, especially on a day where he has clearly told you when to expect him home

what if something went wrong?

what if he is hurt?

what if he is missing?

what if he is…dying?

you take a shuddering breath as you pick up your phone again with shaking fingers

7:24 PM

the glare of your screen seems too bright all of a sudden

you press on the first contact of your speed dial, seonghwa’s name popping up, decorated with a little heart that he added himself when he first entered his number into your new phone

the call rings and rings and rings

“the person you have called is not available, please leave a short message after the tone-”

your chest heaves to force oxygen into your lungs

you haven’t had a real reason to contact him yet, not with seonghwa personally keeping you in the loop

but you don’t hesitate to press the second contact on your speed dial

hongjoong greets you with a little surprise, obviously not having expected a call from you, “hey, is everything alright?”

you fight to keep the panic out of your voice as you ask him, “is hwa still there?”

there’s some rustling in the background

“hwa? no, he left almost two hours ago”

your stomach lurches dangerously

you don’t realise you’ve let out a soft whimper until hongjoong is repeating your name over and over again into the phone

“take a breath for me,” he soothes, “what’s wrong?”

“he said he’d be back by six,” your eyes start to well with the tears you’ve been suppressing. “he’s still not home”

hongjoong curses, calling out for the others still at base

then his voice filters through the speakers again, “we’re going to look into this, okay? everything’s going to be fine. you’ve done a good job letting me know”

with reassurances and words of comfort, a promise to call you back in a couple of minutes, hongjoong hangs up the call

yeosang and jongho sidle up to hongjoong on high alert, having heard the end of the conversation

“seonghwa’s missing,” hongjoong grits out, already trying to track down the other’s phone location

san appears in the doorway to the room looking grim

he holds up seonghwa’s phone in his hand, “he forgot to take it with him”

hongjoong curses lowly, “park fucking seonghwa. i swear if he isn’t already dead by now, he will be when i find him”

he tells yunho to hold down the fort at base while he, yeosang and wooyoung trace the route to the apartment you now share with seonghwa

you are unsure how long it will be until hongjoong calls you again

what you do know is that you’re not going to sit around idly while seonghwa could very well be in danger

your mind flashes back to all those times you both stand in the expanse of his living room, coffee table pushed to one side, as he gives you what he coins the ultimate self-hwafense class

he demonstrates and talks you through both defensive and offensive stances and how you can use your size and agility to your advantage

sometimes, he hates that he has to even teach you how to protect yourself

because if it were up to him, he would be your protector forever

but seonghwa knows the dangers of being involved with the mafia and so instead, he gently adjusts your movements, gives you praises when you grasp the concept, and demands kisses when you successfully pin him down

and more often than not, his self-hwafense classes end up in giggles and laughter because there is nothing less intimidating than his sparkling doe-eyes and wide grin as he pretends to act the part of a threatening intruder

just as your fingers brush over the cold steel of the gun hidden underneath the table, your blood runs cold when you hear your doorknob jiggling

it’s not purposeful - it is hesitant, intermittent and careful

exactly how an intruder would open a door

you know you do not have a choice

you have to protect yourself

slinking slowly towards the door and positioning yourself so that the intruder will walk in with their back to you, you grasp the gun in your hand a little tighter with bated breath

the lock clicks open and you watch the knob turning to nudge the door open

your mind screams at you to run and hide as you fight every cell in your body to keep your feet rooted where they are

amongst the fogginess of fear clouding your brain, you have enough sense to wait for the perfect opportunity

…now.

with as much strength as your shaking hands can muster, you slam the butt of your gun against the intruder’s head

hongjoong’s phone vibrates in his hand and he answers the call within the first ring

but before he can even get so much as a word out, he hears your trembling whisper

“hongjoong, he- he’s here”

“shit,” hongjoong says at the same time wooyoung steps harder on the accelerator, “who? are you okay? are you safe?”

“oh no,” your voice becomes harder to hear as the phone slips further away from you, “he’s awake”

“we’re close, hang in there- fuck” hongjoong punches the side of the car door when your call cuts off

wooyoung doesn’t need to be told - he floors the car

the tyres squeal as they pull up to the street of the apartment, wooyoung having just barely turned off the ignition before the three of them are dashing in and bypassing the lift for the stairs

as they reach the door of your apartment, they see that it is nudged open

a sign that cues the three of them to immediately slip out their guns

with hongjoong at the front, they barge in and point their guns at the figures in the living room

“move and i’ll blow your fucking brains out,” he commands

“hongjoong?”

said man falters

that’s not your voice

“the fuck?”

of all things he was prepared for, this was not one of them

because seonghwa is in the living room

sitting on a chair nursing a very bruised head with a sorry bag of frozen peas pressed to it

but it is very much seonghwa, alive and kicking

something on hongjoong’s face must show how much he wants to skin the man and feed him to the sharks because seonghwa grimaces and makes a very poor attempt to break the tension

“surprise?”

wooyoung loses it and keels in on himself with laughter

seonghwa gestures weakly with the hand that is not holding the bag of peas at the inconspicuous paper bag sitting on the kitchen counter, which is looking slightly sad and saggy after he quite literally crumpled on top of it, “i bought donuts?”

when hongjoong exhales the longest sigh known to mankind, pinching the bridge of his nose, you completely understand how he feels

“they’re shaped like reindeers and elves…they’re limited edition…” seonghwa’s voice trails off and you see him visibly wilt like a sunflower in a cave

because as much as he knows and is sorry for making you and the gang worry, he had rushed to line up at that donut shop you have recently fallen in love with because he thought surprising you with the cute christmas donuts would make you smile

well, surprise you he did

it’s not everyday you knock out an intruder, only to find out that it’s actually your boyfriend

“i’m sure they are very cute, hwa,” you tenderly replace his hand on the makeshift ice pack so that he can rest his arm, “thank you”

and you really do mean it

seonghwa perks up at your words and snakes his arm around your waist, tugging you closer until you are basically sitting on his sturdy thigh

he looks haughtily at the other three men, “at least somebody appreciates them”

and then he lets out a yelp as his hands scramble to catch his forgotten phone that hongjoong has tossed at him

“i’ll let you off the hook this time, park seonghwa, but only because it’s christmas and i have better things to be doing. we all do,” the leader makes a move with yeosang and wooyoung to leave

but he seems to think better of it because hongjoong whips around to make one last biting remark

“they better be some fucking good donuts, the best fucking donuts you’ll ever eat”

you and seonghwa dissolve into giggles once the door slams shut behind the trio

“how’s your head feeling now?” you take the bag of peas off and gingerly touch the red bump

“much better,” his eyes twinkle, “all it needs now is your kiss”

you blatantly turn your nose into the air and stand up to grab the bag of donuts, “no kisses. that’s for scaring me”

he grumbles indignantly under his breath like a five year old; nose scrunched up, lip jutted out

you laugh, presenting the bag to him and watching as his demeanor immediately brightens

“well, let’s find out if these are the best fucking donuts we’ll ever eat”

seonghwa opens the bag excitedly, having made it very clear that he wanted to do the honours and present them to you

but then he freezes, mouth opening to form an ‘o’

and then his shoulders sag once more

seonghwa wails

and it all makes sense when you peer into the bag

“the donuts are all squished!”

yunho

“J, can you take a look at my sniper? i think something’s wrong with the scope”

you dog-ear the page of the file you’re scanning through to look up at yunho

“i’m pretty sure i know the least about scopes out of everybod-”

“cause i can’t seem to take my sight off you,” he waggles his eyebrows at you with an overly-smouldering gaze as he leans oh so casually against the doorframe

you swallow the insult that is about to leave your mouth, instead, undoing the dog ear and dutifully continuing from where you left off

unfazed, yunho steps closer towards your table with an excited bounce, “want to see my gun? i’ve got a pretty big one”

you hum, “i’ve seen it plenty times, nothing new”

his eyes crinkle at having received a reaction, which spurs him on further

yunho leans down a little into your space so that you are forced to look up at him, “then can i put my gun in your holster?”

you finally laugh at the crudeness of his words and you hate that he looks utterly pleased with himself

(you don’t really hate it, but you know that he loves flustering you)

(you can pretend if it’s for him)

“remind me again why you’re my boyfriend?”

“cause i shoot my load into you,” he flirts, complete with a wink, finger guns and then a flying kiss that you pretend to snatch out of the air and slam against the ground

immediately, he looks like a puppy whose tail you have just stepped on, so you reach out for his hand and tug him closer with another laugh, turning your body so that you can bury your face into his stomach and wrap your arms around his waist

one of his arms naturally slides over your shoulders to encase you, his other hand running through your hair the way he knows you like it

“what do you want, you big puppy,” your voice comes out muffled

yunho may have claimed you as the J to his PB, but you think he is better nicknamed BP than peanut butter

BP as in Big Puppy

“i miss you,” he admits

you pull away and shake your head, “you see me every day, yunho. we work together”

“yeah, and i’m sick of work cockblocking us,” he says with finality

yunho swipes your files to the side in one smooth motion, clearing the table as he easily lifts you by the waist to perch you on the edge

you barely have time to complain about the files until he is pressing his lips against yours

“i miss you,” he repeats when you break apart to take a breath, “and it’s christmas. relax”

“you talk too much,” you say, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss

his large hands settle on your waist, just below the hem of your shirt

your back arches from sensitivity when the fingers of his right hand slip under your shirt and slowly trail upwards towards your chest

his other hand snakes behind you to splay across the pretty arch of your back

you loop your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair for purchase

a stuttered moan escapes your lips when he shifts and his thigh brushes against your core

“you like that?” yunho grinds his thigh against you once more, eyes dark as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “bet you’d like to ride my thigh until you cum”

you’re about to hook your legs around his waist when there’s a yell from the doorway

yunho immediately retracts his hands and you rush to tidy the appearance of your top, both of your heads snapping towards the door

wooyoung is there, body already turning back the way he came from with a hand blocking his own view, “can you guys get a room or close the door at least?”

“or you can stop walking in on us,” yunho suggests with a red face

but the younger is already out of earshot, too busy prancing through the rest of the base announcing, “PB&J are fucking in the office again, nobody disturb them!”

yunho rubs the tips of his flushed ears and you pepper one final kiss along his jawline before you bend down to pick up the scattered files from the floor

“don’t tell me you’re going to read your stupid files again,” he groans

“well, reading these stupid files happen to be direct orders from hongjoong,” you retort

“then good thing i’ve already asked him for permission to take you out today”

he snatches the file from your hand and tosses it haphazardly onto the table, quirking an eyebrow teasingly

“what do you mean?”

yunho grabs your hand, leading you towards the door as he tells you excitedly, “let’s go on a date”

and that’s how you find yourself wrapped up in yunho’s coat over the thin sweater you slipped on because nobody told you that you’d be fucking freezing your ass off on the open rooftop of a building on christmas night

it had taken all but three seconds of stepping out onto the rooftop for a shiver to descend through your body from head to toe

“this is a date?” you had groused

yunho had then immediately taken off his coat to wrap around your shoulders as he made a pleased noise of affirmation

“then do tell me why you took your sniper along,” you sniffle a little, compliantly allowing yunho to button you up. “you want me to tell you how sexy you look while you shoot someone through the head?”

yunho grins down at you

“you think i’m sexy when i snipe people?”

you roll your eyes at his selective hearing

(you think he’s always sexy)

at your playful shove, he reaches into his pockets to pull out a pair of earplugs for you

“put them in,” he tells you before you can even ask what they’re for

when you make no move to do so, he gingerly tucks your hair out of the way so that he can put the plugs into your ears

watch me, he gestures with his hands

and then he is perching along the edge of the rooftop, setting up his sniper in front of him and adjusting the scope as he looks down the sight into the far distance

you watch as he applies pressure to the back of the rifle with his broad shoulder, as his slender fingers curl around the trigger, as he closes one eye and exhales a slow breath

then he shoots

you think that he is going to get up and finally tell you what he is doing, except he pulls the bolt back to chamber a new bullet and adjusts the angle of his rifle

and then he shoots again

you catch yourself staring at the veins running across the back of his hand and the way his finger flexes around the trigger

because you know all too well how it feels for his finger to flex in…other places

you lose count of how many times yunho pulls the trigger - at one point, he even reloads a magazine

he has almost finished the second round of bullets before he finally appears to be satisfied, scrambling up and dusting off his knees

with an eager tug once you have taken out your earplugs, he brings you to his sniper that he has left in its place on the floor

“look through the scope!”

you are careful to ease yourself down into a mimic of yunho’s earlier pose, knowing that even the slightest of nudges can displace the target by miles

hovering behind you, he shifts from foot to foot, waiting for you to see it

and when you do, your eyes nearly fall out in surprise

“yunho!” you exclaim, unable to fathom what you are seeing

because yunho has shot a fucking heart shape made out of bullet holes into the side of an abandoned building

“is this meant to be romantic?!”

contrary to your tone, you don’t think you have ever found your deadly 6’1” sniper boyfriend to be more endearing than now

he preens with the widest smile on his face, “yeah!”

you stand up with a matching smile of your own and step closer to pull him into a hug

“i don’t think i’ll be forgetting about this christmas for a while”

“you better not forget about it ever,” he threatens with a harmless tickle to your side

“thank you,” you tell him sincerely, “i love you”

he peppers your face with kisses, “i love you too”

distantly, you hear the sound of sirens, no doubt the sound of gunshots having been reported

“i guess that’s our cue,” he grins, stepping away from you and slinging the sniper over his shoulder

“our cue to do what?” you allow him to lace his fingers through yours

“our cue to fucking leg it”

and so with his hand warmly encasing yours, laughter bubbling out of your chests and cheeks flushing as the first flakes of snow start to fall, you both make a run for it

yeosang

“get some napkins, snacks, cooking oil and maybe a couple of drinks if you can carry it all”

you listen while seonghwa lists off the things you need to get from the shops for the christmas party

it’s nothing huge - just a get together between you, your older brother, hongjoong, and the rest of the ateez gang

yeosang sidles up to you to ask, “ready to go?”

as you smile with a nod and lean into him, hongjoong narrows his eyes from where he’s sitting on a chair

it seems like the two of you have gotten quite…close recently

not that you two weren’t already close before

and granted, hongjoong was the one who raised hell to ensure yeosang followed you everywhere as your bodyguard

except you and yeosang are getting a little too chummy for his liking

but then you’re giving seonghwa a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and you are turning around to look at your brother with that damned smile of yours to ask if he is coming along too, and hongjoong thinks that he’s just looking into things a bit too much

“yeah,” hongjoong gets up from his seat, “let’s go”

once your little trio makes it to the mart, you decide to divide and conquer the items on seonghwa’s shopping list

you’ve just grabbed a packet of napkins when someone suddenly tugs you down one of the aisles

the squeal of surprise that comes out of you quickly turns into an exasperated laugh seeing that it’s just yeosang

he’s looking at you with his sparkling eyes and expectant smile

“you’re hopeless,” you tell him because you know exactly what he wants

“hopelessly in love,” he corrects you, still waiting with an eager expression

you hiss his name and frantically look around to make sure your brother isn’t around before you relent and press a chaste kiss against the corner of his lips

yeosang immediately blushes and tries to hide the smile on his face like he didn’t literally just kidnap you into a shopping aisle demanding for kisses

you always find his bashfulness endearing though, so you rest your hands on his shoulders to balance on your tiptoes and quickly pepper several more kisses over the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose and the sharp of his jawline

“i don’t think santa needs rudolph this year,” you tap his nose affectionately, “you’re much brighter”

as you watch yeosang grow even redder at your statement, you wonder how this is the same man who will move heaven and earth to protect you

“y/n? yeosang?”

hongjoong’s voice is frighteningly close and you’re pretty sure he is just in the next aisle over

grabbing the first thing that you see, you clutch the item and the napkins to your chest and walk out to meet your brother

“there you two are,” hongjoong frowns, “what took you two so long?”

you reach out and touch his elbow in apology, “sorry, joong. i needed help finding the plastic plates”

except hongjoong doesn’t think you two are very sorry at all, because not only did he pay, but the backpack stuffed full with the shopping bags is now on his back

“why am i carrying the backpack,” he complains, looking at you and yeosang already mounted on the latter’s motorbike

yeosang smiles innocently and jerks his head back in your direction, “i’ve already got a cute little backpack”

“well that cute little backpack also happens to be my sister so shouldn’t she sit behind me- hey!”

you press yourself closer against yeosang’s back, both of you breaking out into laughter as he revs his bike and leaves hongjoong behind in the dust

your brother flips the bird at your backs, grumbling colourfully under his breath as he twists the throttle on his own motorbike to catch up to you two

and for someone who prides himself in being an observant mafia boss, it takes hongjoong many, many days to belatedly realise that plastic plates were never even part of the shopping list

yeosang gently takes your helmet from out of your grasp and tames an unruly strand of your hair that has become ruffled as you two walk back inside, bypassing seonghwa hanging a wreath on the front door

the eldest watches you two for a moment, seemingly in thought, before he picks up something else to hang up

that’s how, when hongjoong arrives a few minutes later with the shopping, he runs into seonghwa fixing mistletoe to the doorframe of the kitchen

“mistletoe?” hongjoong questions as he places the bags onto the countertop, “the fuck for?”

seonghwa shrugs vaguely, “the couples”

“the only couple i see is the couple of losers over there”

hongjoong stares pointedly into the living room, where san is starting to wriggle under the weight of the ornaments balancing on the top of his head and shoulders and hanging off his ears and fingers, courtesy of wooyoung who is currently yelling out stay still!

except the ornaments all come tumbling off in a flurry of movement when yunho thunders past them, mingi in tow

“snowball fight!!”’

it’s not snowing heavily but there’s a layer of snow thick enough for all nine of you to stumble outside in glee

and as it turns out, yeosang is very serious about his job as your bodyguard

even during snowball fights

jongho and yunho have formed some sort of alliance, so by an unspoken agreement, pretty much everyone else has teamed up in hopes of defeating the formidable pair

(no one’s entirely sure which side mingi is playing for, but he’s having fun scooping handfuls of snow and dumping them onto people, which is all that matters)

hongjoong is busy fending off wooyoung’s snowballs - another person who has broken the unofficial alliance - so yeosang stays close to you

he alternates between adding fresh ammo to your snowball pile and blocking any snowballs that are thrown around

it doesn’t matter if they’re thrown in your direction or not; if yeosang sees a snowball, then he is ready to keep it far, far away from you

somehow, amidst all the chaos, yunho manages to unearth a whole slab of snow that is still intact

he cackles evilly as he lifts it above his head and hurls it somewhere into the centre of the whole group

now, the deadly snow slab is nowhere even close to landing on you

but again, yeosang takes his job as your bodyguard - and boyfriend - very, very seriously

he makes a dive in your direction to take the hit and the angels up in heaven blow their trumpets in celebration when he knocks you over instead and you two fall into the snow together

he lands on top of you, arms bracing himself as he encases your frame underneath him

you’re a little winded - the breath has been knocked out of you, you want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and also yeosang looks extremely stunning

you can see every single snowflake that has fluttered down and clung onto his long lashes and soft hair, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s looking at you with the most tender eyes

“merry christmas,” he murmurs with a smile, “i love you”

the sounds of snowballs breaking and consequent screeches mute themselves into the background, the crystal petals falling from the sky blurring in slow motion as yeosang dips down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss

one of his hands cradles your face gingerly as you sigh into the kiss, almost as if he is afraid you will melt and seep into the snow

jongho is about to take the opportunity to pelt yeosang’s exposed back with snowballs, but pauses his deadly pitch when he sees that the older is actually a little…preoccupied right now

he realises very quickly that not only have you two caught his attention, but you’ve also managed to grab hongjoong’s attention

said man squints his eyes at who he thinks is yeosang and…you?

you’re both awfully close together in a heap on the ground and hold the fuck up are you two kissing?

right before hongjoong can rub his eyes and take a closer look, a snowball is smashed to smithereens against his face

hacking snow out of his mouth, he searches furiously for the culprit, eyes landing on jongho who is staring right back at him with his hand still pitched forward from throwing the snowball

why jongho looks flustered, hongjoong has no idea

but it’s not like hongjoong can take on the younger anyway so he chooses to ignore the snowball and looks back in your direction

…where you and yeosang are both lying on your backs making snow angels

hongjoong frowns, rationalising that the kiss had just been a glitch in his imagination

because surely he would’ve noticed ages ago if you and yeosang were indeed dating

seeing as the leader shrugs it off and drops to the ground to shovel an enormous snowball with renewed vigour, jongho lets out a sigh of relief

that is

until wooyoung very helpfully points out, “why are yeosang’s lips all glossy”

you and yeosang freeze mid-snow angel

like zombies in a horror film, you and yeosang slowly sit up with unease creeping through your bodies as you both look towards your brother

his back is turned, body eerily still

most of the other members have also frozen, snowballs still clutched in their hands as their knowing pupils waver

then mingi also helpfully tacks on, “it looks like he kissed y/n or something”

at his words, hongjoong’s arms start to move again

he does not turn around yet, simply hums and says, “interesting”

yeosang nudges you with an elbow and theatrically whispers, “if we leg it right now, do you think it will notice”

it starts to stand up from its crouching position

“...i think it will, yeo”

hongjoong finally turns around and you can see that, similar to yunho not too long ago, he is carrying a huge slab of intact snow in his hands

what’s different is that hongjoong is most definitely not smiling

you have a feeling that he is going to be putting a new definition to snowball fight

hongjoong approaches with his snow weapon

“snowballs?” he shakes his head mockingly with a frighteningly blank expression

“after today,” his gaze drops down pointedly towards yeosang’s nether region, “no balls”

san

you don’t need to rely on your past experience working in an underground casino for you to know what the odds of your current gamble are

you are a mouse walking into the lion’s den

the last time you were with crescent - the mafia gang you had been brought into and was supposedly your family for almost a decade - you were wrongfully accused as being a traitor and had nearly lost your life

now here you are, walking back into crescent’s base with your own two feet just a mere few weeks later

and yet, you are not afraid

your former gang does not know, but tonight, you are the dealer of this poker game

minsu, crescent’s mob boss, leers at the sight of you entering the small building

they do not have many affiliates, having kept their numbers small over the years, but most of them have gathered together for drinks tonight

you already knew this, though

you have chosen to confront them on christmas for a reason

“ahh, merry christmas, darling,” minsu drawls saccharinely, “has santa answered my wishes for a personal slut?”

his words do not register in your ears when your eyes involuntarily flit over to the back of the room

there’s a face sitting in the corner that haunts you

the day you were labelled a traitor, you had been accompanying your capo to make a trade deal with a relatively new gang

the boss of the gang who is currently sitting in the same room as the rest of crescent, comfortable smirk on his face like he wants to show you that he is where he belongs

you realise now that it was a set-up all along

there was no deal to be made and there was no emerging gang

it was - is - crescent against you

looking back at minsu now, you address him, “why did you betray me”

he pretends to look appalled, one hand perched daintily against his chest as his jaw drops

“we saw the way you were getting closer to choi san of ateez,” he spits out san’s name, “and after you betrayed crescent during the trade, you ran pathetically to his doorstep like a damsel in distress, which only proved our suspicions”

he states it so believably, as if your loyalty wavered and led to your own inevitable downfall

it’s all bullshit though

you and san have never interacted outside of the negotiations your gangs made with each other

without anywhere to go after crescent had backstabbed you, only then had you sought san’s help

“so what are you doing back here, darling?” minsu stands up

he stalks closer towards you with fake pity plastered across his face, “to beg for forgiveness? to beg for us to spare your little boyfriend’s life?”

the flicker of fury inside of you is quickly growing into an inferno at minsu’s mocking tone

but before it starts to consume you, a new voice enters the fray

“i don’t think we’ll be the ones begging by the end of the night”

a figure steps in and you hear the sound of metal buckles scraping against the ground as a limp, bloodied body is also dragged along

the person comes to a stop beside you before they toss the body in their grasp carelessly to one side

the familiar lilt of their teasing reaches you

“hey, sweetheart”

the inferno inside you smothers itself out at their words

“choi san,” minsu snarls, hackles now raised at the unforeseen addition of his presence

the rest of crescent also seem to become restless, shifting on the edge of their seats or making a move to stand up

because they’re not foolish

they know san’s reputation for ruthlessness, particularly when someone has wronged him

and by extension-

more footsteps resound behind you

-the rest of ateez

you may be a mouse walking into the lion’s den

but when you have poachers behind your back, it becomes your den

minsu’s face finally drains of all blood when he realises the deep shit he has landed himself in

and so do several others, it seems

you wince slightly in embarrassment when a handful of his men scramble up from their seats and push past the ateez members surrounding you to run out of the building

for a moment, no one dares to breathe as they watch you and ateez with trepidation

san simply raises a brow as his eyes narrow with disinterest

the sounds of the cowards’ feet striking the pavement once they make it out onto the street are suddenly replaced by the crack of gunshots and the distinct thump of flesh falling to the ground

from somewhere up high, yunho chambers another bullet as he stares down the scope of his sniper with impassivity

“anyone else want to give that a try?” san taunts

no one answers

hongjoong finally emerges from the flanks and almost immediately, the already-frigid atmosphere drops another several degrees

“a gang of members who have no qualms betraying their own will only end up destroying themselves eventually,” he calmly approaches minsu, who shuffles backwards in response

hongjoong continues, “as much as crescent isn’t worth my time, i don’t really feel like waiting for that day to come”

before anyone can react, he swipes a glass bottle from one of the tables and swings it across minsu’s head

the latter stumbles backwards in shock with a hand flying up to stem the blood flow coming from his temple

ateez do not need a further command

all at once, the members jump forward bloodthirsty for vengeance, save for san, who grabs a chair that mingi has quite literally tossed a person off and brings it over for you to sit on

he winks as he quips, “we’ll probably be on santa’s naughty list this year, but maybe if you just watch you’ll get away with it, sweetheart”

san knows you can hold your own in a fight, but he also knows that your ribs are still sore and bruised

so he waits until you sit with a laugh before he turns around to face the others

he doesn’t really care about most of the crescent lackeys

he knows hongjoong and the rest of ateez will wipe them out fine

who he really cares about is that bastard who pretended to lead the fake gang

and that motherfucker minsu

san is going to make them regret hurting you

san is going to make them wish they were never born

he advances towards them with deceptive calmness

minsu is slumped against a table, still licking at his wounds pathetically

he’s only alive because none of the members have bothered with him

san leaves him for the time being and takes out a dagger as he advances upon the nameless member who had duped you

easily evading the man’s frantic punch, san responds by slamming the hilt of his dagger against the other’s temple

the man goes crashing down and minsu tries to scramble away from them in fear

“i would cut your tongue off, since you spew so many fucking lies,” san grips the man’s jaw hard enough that his fingers turn white, “but i don’t want to touch your filthy mouth”

instead, san drags the dagger across the gang member’s throat

blood rapidly gurgles out of the wound as the man’s fingers make futile attempts to grasp san’s hands, but very quickly, he attempts to stem the blood flow instead

but a fence can only hold a dam back for so long

san shoves him aside and lunges for minsu

“your turn,” san smirks

whipping out his pistol, san flicks the safety off and shoots minsu’s hand as the latter lets out a primal shriek of pain

san shoots again, this time at his other hand, once more, through his calf, once more, through his stomach

minsu swears to the high heavens in between wails and howls, begging for san to stop

“what did i say,” san places a foot on his stomach wound and pushes down, “it wouldn’t be me or my sweetheart begging tonight”

minsu’s animalistic cries are silenced with a final gunshot

san exhales and makes his way back to where you are still seated to reassure, “you’ll never have to worry about crescent ever again”

“thank you, san,” you sink into his embrace

you’ll thank the rest of ateez later, but for now, you focus on the man in front of you

“i said that i would protect you, didn’t i, sweetheart?”

he gathers your face in his hands and thumbs the round of your cheeks sweetly

you nod in his grasp, blinking up at him through your eyelashes

“i want to kiss you,” san suddenly confesses, “can i kiss you?”

a teasing smile tugs at your lips, “it’s christmas. shouldn’t you kiss me under a mistletoe?”

san looks up to check, as if he really thinks that a mafia gang’s base would have mistletoe hanging from the ceiling

when he confirms that indeed there is not, his eyes wander around the room for a substitute until something appears to pique his interest

you watch as he unsheathes another dagger from his belt and points it in the direction of minsu’s body

“i can cut his foot off,” san tells you with determination, “then we’d have a minsu-toe”

amidst the last of the fighting amongst the room, someone overhears and chortles at san’s words

“i can’t believe you,” you let out your own laugh

“so…” san beams, “is that a yes?”

“fuck the mistletoe,” you laugh as you pull him forward, “just kiss me already”

and kiss you he does

mingi

for the first time ever, you think you hate the snow

even if it’s christmas eve today and it’s the first snowfall of the year

you had been prepared for a peak in business at your little bar, the mist, but with the sudden onset of heavy snowfall and a rapid drop in temperature, you’ve barely had any customers

admittedly, you are used to slow business considering there is a much larger bar, the chilli peppers, just across the street

but not even your few, regular customers have shown up today nor for the past few weeks

you’ve scanned the outside of your bar several times already, each time unfruitful as you are met with an empty street save for the falling snow and soft glow of the streetlamps

sighing, you decide to look out once more before making yourself a mixed drink when you spot a figure walking up to your doors

your breath hitches when you recognise who it is

it’s him

the handsome stranger who, you suppose, is not really a stranger anymore

it has been almost two months since he first took refuge in your bar while being chased by another gang

his visits since have been rare and infrequent, but they will always span late into the early hours of dawn when he does

“hey,” mingi softly greets you as he steps into your bar, a shy smile adorning his face

your stomach flutters as you stand up from your stool, “mingi, hi, hey, i wasn’t expecting you to come today”

you internally cringe at your own words

you hope he doesn’t pick up on the connotation that you wait for him to come on other days

he peers around hesitantly at your words, “should i, uh, go?”

one of your hands reach out in his direction before you even realise what you’re doing

“no- i meant,” you lick your lips, “it’s a nice surprise”

mingi’s shoulders relax

“i heard some areas lost power because of the snow,” he starts to explain, “so i thought i’d come to check on you- your bar”

your heart grows warm at his seemingly nonchalant words

fighting back a blush, you gesture around your bar, “well, i still got power-”

just as it fizzles and dies

the steady hum of the heater in the background of your bar also halts, creating a world of both darkness and silence

startled, you jump slightly

you can hardly see him in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the gloom, yet mingi’s hand naturally finds your searching ones

he slips your smaller hand into his, gently squeezing and rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he soothes, “i’ve got you”

you let out a nervous chuckle, not because you feel awkward but because it feels so natural to be soothed by his touch, and he reciprocates with his own soft laugh

“well,” you look up at him, “looks like business is closed for the night”

his eyebrows knit together in concern, “are you sure? i can call someone to get your power back up and running. i know a person”

he scratches the back of his neck as he continues to ramble, “or they could probably fix your whole area…yeah that’s a better idea, wouldn’t want you getting singled out or anything”

you’re not sure whether to be endeared or to be impressed by his connections

“you can do that?!” you gawk

mingi blinks twice as if to say, you can’t?

laughing, you shake your head and pat his hand that’s still holding yours to tell him that it’s okay

“i wasn’t getting customers anyway,” you reassure

selfishly, mingi is glad that you weren’t busy

because it means that he can have you all to himself

“do you want to stay for a bit?” you offer, “it’s probably not safe to leave with all the snow”

mingi is a member of a mafia gang

snow is the least of his worries

but he nods solemnly in agreement anyway

he thinks that his heart cannot squeeze with any more fondness at your concern until you carefully tug him forward by the hand to lead him up the stairs at the back of your bar, murmuring that there’s another step and the doorway’s a little low

it doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him being pursued by other gang members, or that he smells like gunpowder and has a pistol hidden on him - you still look out for him and mingi has to fight the urge to pull you into a hug

instead, he grips your hand a little tighter under the guise of not knowing where he should be stepping

in reality, he wants to make sure that he can keep you steady should you be the one to trip

usually, when the power cuts out like this, you will simply bury yourself under your covers until you fall asleep

but it seems like it’s a common occurrence now - when mingi is by your side, sleep is easy to forget

so you take him to the small room you’ve leased above your bar and it is as though you have both rediscovered the innocent joys of life

hushed giggles are shared as you rifle through your storage and take turns lighting up the stubborn candles you have found

you nudge him as he nudges you back over where to scatter the candles around the room for maximum brightness, both of you falling into another bout of laughter when a particularly hard nudge ends up snuffing the candles in your hands

mingi takes out his phone and creates a playlist of cheesy christmas songs that he lets run in the background

grabbing your hands, he twirls you around the cramped space of your living room as you flush with joy

you shyly let him lead you through his silly little dances, but very quickly, you are both spinning and jumping and swaying barefoot to the music as the candle flames flicker in tandem all around you

the excitement teeters off slowly as the playlist transitions to slower instrumentals and you realise that without the heating on, your room is starting to become freezing

mingi is first to notice, attuned to the way a quick shiver racks your body

“come here,” he says, arms already moving before he can think better of it

he grabs the blanket that covers the back of your small couch and throws half of it over himself, one arm extending the rest of it so that he can wrap it around your form too

mingi slowly rubs his hands up and down the sides of your arms as he shuffles the two of you over to sink down onto the couch

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing, even as his every touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps and electricity

“better?” he asks after a while

untrusting of your voice, you nod instead whilst clearing your throat, trying not to chase the feeling of his embrace when he retracts his arms from around you

silence falls upon you two

it’s not uncomfortable

but with the lack of noise to distract you, you are acutely aware of his close proximity and the warmth that he emits from your side

“it’s pretty, isn’t it,” he muses, gaze focused on the falling snow outside the window

“it is…”

…with you here

“you know what they say about the first snowfall of the year?” he nudges you softly

you chew on your bottom lip

shyly, you offer, “that if you confess your love it becomes true,” at the exact same time mingi says-

“that you shouldn’t eat the snow for the first hour or two”

you quickly cough and splutter out a question to cover up your statement, “h-how come?”

“the snow absorbs all the bad stuff in the air when it first falls”

the grin on his face makes you think that he may have heard your answer after all

slightly embarrassed, you avert your gaze and fumble for something to say

mingi saves you though

he points at the clock that has just ticked past midnight

“merry christmas, y/n,” he says tenderly

“merry christmas, mingi”

you relish in the moment, not wanting this night to end

“did you have anything you wanted for christmas?” you ask him

he hums in affirmation, slowly mulling over his next words before he answers, “there was someone i wanted to see”

he’s looking ahead, and from where you’re sitting next to him, shoulders brushing with each slight movement, the warm glow of the candles accentuates the sharp slopes of his side profile

you’ve noted this before, but in this moment mingi is beautiful

“did…did you get to see them?” you’re unsure why you’re holding your breath in anticipation

he doesn’t answer straight away

there’s a beat of silence

then he’s slowly turning his head with a gentle smile

“yeah,” he breathes out, looking at you with his soft, round eyes, “yeah, i did”

with your rosy cheeks and bashful expression, mingi cannot help himself

he confesses

“and i still am”

wooyoung

wooyoung very naturally reaches across the counter with the barcode scanner so that he can align the laser with your id badge

he hums happily as your employee discount is applied to the bag of chips he is purchasing

at this point, you don’t even bat an eye

he has long made himself at home in your convenience store whenever you work the night shift

“so,” wooyoung says as he finishes ringing up the price, “why are you working on christmas eve?”

you tilt your head, confused

“why shouldn’t i be working on christmas eve? and why aren’t you working? don’t you need to manage all your lackeys at the boxing rings?”

“no? because it’s christmas eve? everyone takes the week off,” he frowns as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world

you didn’t realise the mafia celebrated christmas too

apparently you say that out loud, because he is suddenly crossing his arms

…a little too defensively for you to take him seriously

“i didn’t know you were the mafia police,” he grumbles, “you gonna pull out a handbook and tell me that section 3.2 bans christmas for the mafia?”

you chuckle as you attempt to appease the childlike fire in his eyes, “sorry, you guys just seem like-”

you think better of your words and pause

“seem like what?”

“nothing”

“what? tell me what you were going to say!”

he pounces on you, attempting to bite your forearm as you squeal and relent

“you guys seem like the type to beat santa up, not celebrate his existence”

he stares at you

you stare at him

“you have three seconds to run,” he tells you

and run you do

filled with glee, you dash out from behind the counter and weave through the narrow aisles in a circle, wooyoung hot on your heels with his own matching shrieks

you both collapse in a fit of uncontrollable laughter when he suddenly switches direction and you end up running straight into his arms

sitting on the dirty floor of your convenience store during the quiet hours of night, your eyes teary from how hard you and wooyoung are laughing, you do not think there is a better way to spend your christmas eve

“i get paid almost double for working today,” you explain when you have both settled back behind the counter, sharing the bag of snacks he paid for earlier

you toss a chip in the air for wooyoung to catch as you continue, “plus, i can’t just take holidays when i want to”

it bounces off his forehead and he fumbles to catch it before it hits the ground

“why not?”

“because my boss won’t let me”

“oh. that’s it?”

“tHaT’s iT? shut the fuck up,” you shove a chip into his mouth as he sniggers

he excuses himself to make a quick call, so you take the opportunity to finish off the remainder of the snacks

hah.

this time, when he walks back in and sees the empty packet, he does bite you

and he makes you buy him another bag as compensation

(honestly, he should be buying you snacks because if you’re honest, you’re pretty sure he has enough money to buy your store and the whole chain)

you’re sharing the second bag of chips - read as: wooyoung being petty and hogging the snacks - when the store is suddenly plunged into dimness for a split second

you look up, blinking as you watch the lights flicker once, twice, and then completely die out with a fizzle

there’s still enough light coming from the frozen section as the standby generator kicks in for you to make out the inside of the store and wooyoung’s raised eyebrow

then the door chimes, alerting you to the arrival of customers

…or not-customers, you suppose

honestly, you should really be used to this by now

two men saunter in with shoulders squared like they own the place

you take one look at their balaclavas and the pistols in their hands and deduce that, “they wouldn’t happen to be some of your friends, right?”

wooyoung steps a little closer to whisper back, “nope”

“well, fuck. you going to do something about them or what?”

“are you kidding me? they’ve got guns”

“you’re part of the mafia. you’re telling me you don’t have one on you?”

he has the fucking nerve to flirt with you as he flexes his arms

“the only guns i got are these bad boys”

the men point their guns threateningly and wooyoung has the common sense to pipe down, both of you raising your hands cautiously

“get in the car,” one of them snarls

wooyoung moves after a split moment of hesitation, arms still raised as he walks towards the door

he looks back at you to see if you are following along, as if you two are taking a walk in the park and not being kidnapped at literal gunpoint

you’re going to roundhouse kick his head off once you make it out of this alive

his stupid gang better be real good at finding people

the kidnappers usher you and wooyoung into the back of a car, a very nice one you must say

it’s spacious and well-cushioned

at least the trip to whatever warehouse or abandoned building they take you to will be a comfy one

the door locks click and you hit the headrest behind you when the driver steps on the accelerator

“jesus christ! can you drive any faster?” wooyoung yells

you jerk your head sideways to look at him in horror

what is he thinking, provoking the armed men like that?

the man in the passenger seat must also share the same thought, because he whips his head around dangerously fast to stare at wooyoung

oh shit shit shit-

he raises a hand

he’s going to shoot wooyoung-

and pulls off his mask

“that’s not what you were saying when you called us 15 minutes ago, wooyoung”

“san?!” you screech in recognition

“hi again, darling,” san greets you with a sweet, dimpled smile, as if everything is okay

the driver also takes off their mask and he looks at you through the rearview mirror as he introduces himself, “hi, i’m mingi!”

you are absolutely incredulous

“you staged a whole fucking kidnapping for fun?”

wooyoung looks overjoyed, “so you can enjoy christmas eve!”

you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation

“you do realise the police are going to interrogate me, right?”

“don’t worry. jongho has connections with the police,” san reassures you

“what about the security footage?”

“hongjoong jammed the feed so there’s none,” mingi pipes up

“my boss is going to find out when he comes to check the morning shift”

“nah,” wooyoung waves away your concern this time, “he’ll be out of commission for a solid week or so”

now that catches your attention

sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes and ask very calmly, “what did you guys do to my boss?”

wooyoung lets out a weak chuckle as he presses himself a little closer to the car door; a little further away from you

“yeosang may have, uh, knocked him out”

at your silence, he scrambles to redeem the situation, tugging at the end of your shirt for forgiveness, “we made sure to give your boss a pillow for his neck while he’s out cold!”

“you’re insufferable,” you tell him, starting to feel exhilarated from the whole situation

“just for you,” wooyoung puckers his lips teasingly

you sigh to conceal the smile that is starting to creep onto your face, but you are weak for him and he knows, so you don’t pull away when he laces his fingers through your hand

“merry christmas eve,” he beams at you

there’s the faint sound of someone gagging

wooyoung’s adoring gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as he kicks the back of san’s chair hard

you laugh, truly happy and free, “you know i’m still going to get fired for this, right?”

there’s silence

“well,” wooyoung contemplates

and for a split second, you think he is going to offer you a solution for the mess he made

but then again, what did you expect from wooyoung

“does this mean we get to spend christmas together then?”

jongho

jongho has one hand in the pocket of his slacks

his stance is relaxed, even as his other hand aims the gun at the police officers in front of him

they cower despite the abundance of money piled on the table before them and the stars and service strips that decorate their uniforms

after all, what use is dirty money and corrupt power in the face of death?

pathetic

their pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears

several gunshots ring out, followed by the thud of bodies dropping to the ground

elsewhere, you notice that it’s nearly time for you to clock out

it’s christmas eve and you are not spending a minute longer than you need to here in this hellhole

double checking that your badge is somewhere in your bag, you make a move to leave the police station when there is a sudden influx of noise

pagers beep, phones ring, voices shout

your ears perk up to catch the conversation and you hear the same few names leaving the lips of the police officers around you

the blood coursing through your veins freezes

because you know these names

these names have been burned into your brain, only recently, but still to the point where you can see them clearly whenever you close your eyes

they’re all officials in positions of high power, spending their days in air-conditioned offices and not actually doing anything apart from accepting bribes

but the thing that truly links them together - the secret that quite possibly, of the people in the station right now, only you’ve discovered through your connections - is that they are all involved in covering up the death of an officer five years ago

your father’s death

jongho and his gang have made sure that your father’s murderer has paid the price with his own life-

“all killed?!” you hear the police of chief gush with disbelief

-as have the corrupt officers who buried your father’s case, so it seems

a sense of calm settles over you

the clock tells you that it’s now three minutes past the end of your shift

the news is not a bad note to end on before your two-day christmas break

you sling your bag over your shoulder while the rest of the officers continue to speculate with nervous energy

the police force had no qualms turning their back on you years ago, so neither do you on them

you leave

when you make your way home, back to the modest apartment you now share with jongho, you are greeted by the smell of a cooking meal and the warmth of the blasting heater

you enter the open kitchen whilst removing your scarf

jongho is there in his suit, his coat slung over the back of a chair, tossing an assortment of diced vegetables into a pot of boiling soup

his sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows and you feel your throat go a little dry when the muscles along his forearm flex as he holds up the chopping board

you notice there are streaks of dried blood across his sleeves

and you would be concerned about the blood if this weren’t such a common occurrence

you know now that it’s never his own

when he notices your quiet presence, jongho turns to look at you the same way he always does whenever you come home from work

like he can never quite believe that you’re here with him after so many years apart

he greets you, smiling with anticipation, “did you like my christmas present?”

your mind flashes back to the frenzied panic at the station just earlier

“that was you?” 

the smirk you receive is more than enough of an answer to your question

“you didn’t have to, jongho,” but despite your words, you walk over appreciatively into his outstretched arms

“of course i did,” he shushes you with a deep kiss as his arms wrap around you tightly. “nobody messes with my girl”

his words send a hot rush right through your body

the corner of his lips quirks as he feels you squirm a little in his hold

“cop or not,” he nudges your head to the side so he has easy access to nip at your throat, “you’re mine to protect”

you fist the front of his shirt in an attempt to hold back a needy whine, instead, letting out a shaky breath that does little to hide how affected you are

in a last-ditch effort to take control of the situation, you take a step back and reach into the side pocket of your uniform to pull out your handcuffs

“too bad this cop is going to arrest you for murder,” you joke

jongho cannot help but smile at the cocky facade you put on when your cheeks are so clearly flushed

he brings his wrists together in front of him and offers his hands to you

“are you going to frisk me too, officer?”

when you swallow, now silent, jongho continues, “i might be armed with something that could…destroy you”

a shiver of excitement runs through you and it doesn’t go unnoticed

he steps forward to close the gap between you both, one hand reaching for the handcuffs hanging loosely from your grasp

jongho pauses when his fingers touch the cool metal, waiting for you to look at him properly

you see his eyes darting between your own as he searches for any signs of discomfort or hesitation

can i?

you let go of the handcuffs so that they are in his hold alone

yes

his gaze turns predatory almost immediately

“my turn,” he rasps lowly

he flips you around so that you face the kitchen counter, grabbing your arms and holding them behind you

you are pliant under his touch, but you cannot deny that it turns you on when he is a little rougher with you

jongho cuffs your wrists together and he waits as you tug on them experimentally

you feel the flutter of his fingertips dancing around where the metal surrounds your wrists

“is this okay?” he asks, voice gentle again

you reassure him, “yeah, more than okay,” before you emphasise your words by grinding your ass back against him

he tuts with a chuckle as he stands steady behind you, allowing you to use his rapidly-hardening cock for stimulation while his hands rest on your waist

it’s not enough though

“touch me, please,” you breathe out

“please, who?” he teases, hands sliding up and down your sides but never adding any pressure

your thighs clench because you know exactly what he wants

“please, officer,” you beg

“see, that wasn’t so hard,” jongho whispers right into your ear

the buttons on your uniform blouse are suddenly undone and in one swift motion, he yanks your bra down to expose your breasts

his fingers find your nipples easily, familiar with every inch of your body, and you let out a gasp of pleasure when he pinches them

he pins your hips against the countertop with his own, clothed bulge pressing firmly into you

your cuffed hands scrabble to find purchase when he nudges your legs open with his thigh

but then all of a sudden, his heated touches and wandering hands disappear

the whine you let out at the loss of his presence is almost pathetic as you twist your head around to look for him

“give me a second, baby, i just need to,” he steps over to the bubbling pot of soup and twists the knob down on the stove, “adjust the fire”

you bend forward onto the countertop, exposing the wet patch that you are sure has started to show on the crotch of your pants

“jongho,” you start to beg again, “i want to cum”

“i know, baby, but i don’t want to burn our house down and i want to make sure i get to feed you dinner,” he strides back to you in two quick steps

“now that that’s sorted,” he turns your body around so that you’re facing him, “i think it’s time for my appetiser”

he swiftly tugs your pants and panties down, kneeling to tap on your ankles lightly, a silent request for you to step out of your clothes

he tosses them to one side before his hands come back up to grip either of your thighs so that he can spread your legs

you brace your cuffed hands against the edge of the countertop behind you

it’s not the most comfortable position to be in, but then jongho is using his fingers to spread your pussy apart and your ability to form any coherent thought leaves your body

he blows lightly on your clit, enjoying the way you flinch at the sensation

“look at you,” he drags a fingertip at an agonisingly slow pace through your folds, “already so wet when i’ve barely even touched you”

he holds you still when you try to grind down on his finger

“use your words, baby,” he grins up at you with a smug expression

“i need y-”

he cuts your words right off by attaching his lips to your clit, drawing out a strangled cry of pleasure from you

you feel the long-awaited stretch of your pussy as jongho foregoes one finger and plunges two digits straight into your hole

“fuck!” the curse slips out of you when he sucks and licks your clit in time with the thrusts of his fingers scissoring in and out of you

he curls a finger and your knees very nearly buckle from under you, your back arching as jongho groans against your pussy and continues to abuse the sensitive spot he has found

a pressure starts to build in your core

“i’m close,” you manage to choke out

you miss the moment jongho briefly removes his lips to glance to his side, replacing his mouth with a thumb to rub harsh circles against your clit, before he tells you, “not yet, baby”

“i can’t, jongho, please, let me cum,” you plead

“wait, hang in there a little longer. i know you can,” yet despite his words, he shoves his fingers up harder with renewed vigour

you almost sob from desperation, “wait for fucking what?! your dick isn’t even in me!”

“just a little longer, baby,” he reassures you as your thighs shake around him

you can’t do it anymore

you have to cum

you have to-

“cum,” he simply says, before reattaching his mouth to your clit

your orgasm rips through you and you cannot do anything but tremble and shudder under the administrations of his tongue and fingers

jongho holds you through it all, milking out your orgasm until its very last waves-

just as the timer on the stove goes off

“what the fuck?” you blurt out

your mind is still hazy from pleasure but you’re pretty fucking sure he just timed your orgasm with the stove

jongho licks his fingers with a brazen smile and then goes over to peer into his pot of soup

after he gives it a final stir, he turns the fire off completely and places a lid on the top to keep it warm

you watch, rendered speechless

except when he turns back around, you stay silent for a completely different reason

he eyes you hungrily as he strips his tie and unbuttons his dress shirt

“round two, baby”

he grabs your cuffed hands and guides you towards your shared bedroom, then fishes out the keys from your blouse

you welcome the feeling of jongho unlocking your handcuffs for a moment of rest

settling against the head of the bed, you watch as jongho fully sheds his shirt and lets it drop to the ground

he unzips his slacks and his cock springs free, the bulbous head a tantalising pink as he easily strokes himself to full erection

your pussy clenches desperately around nothing in anticipation and jongho watches your own arousal leak out

he gathers your wrists together once more and pins them above you, handcuffing you to the headboard as you completely submit to him

jongho leans over you and encases your smaller frame with his muscular build

his voice is low and teasing

“you have the right to remain silent,” he says as he aligns his girthy length with your entrance, “but i doubt you will”

[kimsohn]

not friends by loona with hyunjae? :D

Ꮺ DARE

pairing . hyunjae x gn!reader about . 580 words, fluff warnings . slight alcoholic mentions (but no actual alcohol)

"y/n, truth or dare?"

you ponder over the question for a moment, staring at the bottle on the ground that's now facing you. the stuffy room and heavy-hitting music of the party behind you does anything but help you in making a decision, and with your friends in a circle staring expectantly at you, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"dare."

"okay," your friend starts, a sneaky smile on her face as she ponders over what to make you do, "i dare you to pinch the hottest person in this room".

the dare piques the interest of everyone in the circle, and you inwardly groan at the prospect of actually carrying out what your friend told you to do. you know your friend is just trying to help you make a move on the black-haired guy sitting next to you, one you've had a crush on for several months now, but even the apple juice in your system doesn't seem to bring you enough courage to even attempt to do something as daring as that.

so you do what you find most reasonable. pinch yourself.

"y/n, that doesn't count!" your friend exclaims, and several others in the circle voice their disappointment as well, clearly wanting to find amusement in your suffering.

"why not? i'm very hot, thank you."

you hear laughter next to you, and it feels like you're hearing bells chime in heaven with how beautiful it sounds. maybe you're just a little biased since you do have a crush on him, but hyunjae's laughter seems like it's arrived straight from the gods.

"you're not wrong," he states, staring at you with mirth swimming in his eyes.

your cheeks heat up, and you feel like you might almost pass out at his confession. apple juice is anything but alcoholic, yet you feel as if you're on a high, vision blurry as you decide you're never waking up from this dream.

"it still doesn't count! you've got to pinch someone else," you hear from your friend, startling you and your head out of the clouds.

"yeah y/n, be brave!" another one of your friends state, and at this point, you wonder if it's quite obvious how smitten you are for hyunjae.

but the encouragement clearly works, because as you stand up to get more apple juice and run away from the embarrassment that would ensue, you pinch hyunjae's arm, lightly but not too lightly for him to not notice it.

as you enter the kitchen, pouring yourself another cup, you hear footsteps behind you, and you wonder if you're creepy or just head-over-heels for knowing exactly who they belong to.

"yknow," hyunjae starts, leaning against the counter, "if i had gotten that dare, i would've picked you too."

"don't lie, you would've picked yourself."

he laughs again, and you consider buying earplugs so you don't pass out the next time you hear him voice his amusement.

"wow, you know me better than i know myself."

"thanks. i'd hope to have gained at least some information about you since i've harbored a crush on you since the dawn of time."

well, the cat's out of the bag. but you suppose he might've already had an inkling to your feelings all along, because he merely just smiles in return, showing no signs of confusion.

"well y/n," he states, leaning in closer, "what if i said i wanted to learn some more about you too?"

[liquorisce]

I am so sad right now. I mistakenly read an EM fic of Hisu and Eren being friends w benefits in canon... omg. It hurts so much... Eren has feelings for Mikasa but yknow paths/PTSD and everything and Hisu offering and being there. Literally everyone knows and they pity Mikasa so much because of it. 😢 The way Eren and Historia talked about Mikasa. Jean calling Eren out for being horrible to Mikasa "for her own sake".

It's wip and only has 1 chapter so far, our girl takes it like a champ but still... my god! I want to hug my bb Miki... How dare anyone hurt her?! I want to go to an EM happy place again. help?

omg… Wdym the way they talked about Mikasa? It better have been good 😤 share the link bestie, you know I’m partial to a little casual EH on the side so I’m curious

ANYWAY usually i have nothing happy to offer regarding em but I dug up this fluffy snippet I wrote for “high school years” but it never made it into the fic for some reason. Hope it helps to cheer u up!

It’s Eren fussing over Mikasa when she’s sick basically ❤️

…

“... You’re in a hurry,” Connie observes, as he watches Eren slam his locker door, wrestling with his backpack and the unusual number of papers and folders he carried. “... And are those assignments?! So many of them?!”

“They’re not mine,” he grumbles, “... ‘s Mikasa’s. She asked me to pick up her homework.”

“Where is she by the way? I haven't seen her all day,” Sasha remarks.

Eren huffs impatiently. “She’s sick, and I really should get home,” -

“... Oh no, what happened to her? Can I come over and see her in a bit? I could bring some soup..?”

“... No,” he bites out, “She needs to rest. And besides,” he adds petulantly, “... I can make soup for her myself.”

“Now do you guys have any other urgent questions or may I leave?” Eren looks annoyed and makes no effort to hide it, mouth pulled into a scowl, eyes looking completely distressed.

His friends elect to stay silent instead of messing with his temper any further - that was solely Jean’s area of interest - and move out of his way.

Connie turns to Armin, wide eyed. “Has he always been this way when Mikasa is sick?”

Armin doesn’t even bother to look up from his novel. The Eren and Mikasa show had rarely changed its tune since his viewership at the age of 9. They were obsessed with each other, and even though the “boyfriend” tag was new, Eren had fussed over Mikasa this way for as long as he could remember. “... Always.”

…

He gets home on his bike in record speed, and despite his hurry he makes sure to close the door gently - in case she was napping.

But of course, what he actually sees when he enters, is her standing by the stove, ostensibly stirring the soup that he had fully intended to make for her, had she not decided to be her usual independent, busybody self.

“What the fuck, Mikasa? Do you not understand the concept of ‘taking rest’?” He quickly makes his way to the stove and pointedly grabs the ladle away from her, shooing her away to sit down.

“... I spent the whole day in bed, Eren,” she mumbles, pouting prettily. She retreats to one of the chairs by the dining table, hugging her knees to her chin.

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, “... then care to tell me what the Physics text book is doing out here on the dining table?”

She buries her face in her knees, and thinking he wouldn’t hear it, she mutters, “... I feel fine.” Eren could really be so overbearing when he was fussing over her.

“Fine?!” He looks at her incredulously, annoyance and concern and irritation bright in his grassy eyes. “... Babe, you fainted while you were brushing your teeth. That is not fine.” He walks over to her, bringing a steaming hot bowl of hot and sour soup and placing it in front of her.

Hot and Sour is Mikasa’s favourite, it always has been, since as far as he can remember, since his mother would make it for her whenever she came over. Usually there was a brightness in her eyes, contentment as she inhaled her favourite aroma, but today her eyes are just glassy and glazed over, her tiny nose scrunched and pink at the tip as she tries not to sniffle too visibly in front of him.

Sighing, he places a hand on her forehead to check her temperature. “... You still feel warm,” he murmurs. His fingers linger on her damp forehead, gently tucking away her bangs. She’s so cute, he thinks, even like this, looking dazed and snivelly, and utterly distressed in an old sweatshirt of his that has solely been relegated to at-home wear for Mikasa. Subconsciously his fingers trail to her chin, and he resists the sudden, very strong urge to kiss her.

Cheekily she asks, completely unlike herself, “... Is this just you saying I’m kinda hot?”

His eyes widen, completely thrown off guard. Turning around abruptly, deliberately hiding the heat in his cheeks, he grumbles, “... just drink the fucking soup, Mikasa.”

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 9]

Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader

“You’re leaving soon?”

“I need to go on Kamino, and find the answers myself if Obi Wan hasn’t yet”

“Y/N I...I can’t have you kill yourself”

“Rey, I promise I won’t” Y/N reassures her vod without the blood as Reylen brought her into her embrace.

“Remember what we planned when we were kids?”

“Yes”

“You’ll meet me there...when it’s finally over��

Y/N squeezed Reylen in her embrace feeling her grip onto her cloak.

“I promise”

•

“You modified this rust bucket a lot” Crosshair comments as he helps Tech get ready to launch.

“I do what I can” Y/N replies sitting at her station checking on the diagnostics before prepping along with the two.

Hunter stares at Y/N from his seat sensing her tension, already making him worry as Echo caught on immediately.

“I have easy contact with Fives from the 501st, do you think we’ll need the back up?”

“The Bad Batch is the strongest out of the clones. I have faith we can handle this on our own. But you tell him if we need it, we’d give him the word” Y/N looked at Echo when she told him all of that, getting up and checking on a few things before launching.

“Wait for my call” Hunter informs Tech receiving a nod before following after Y/N seeing her simply take a minute to herself in the storage compartment.

“I know you’re there Hunt”

“Hmm. Thought I was stealthier than that”

“Not with me” Y/N watches him step in standing in front of her. “I’m okay”

“You’re not”

“I promise you that I am”

“Okay, well I’m not” Hunter admits taking Y/N’s face into his hands taking a deep breath giving her the second to do it herself as she carefully held his wrists. “We may face a lot more than just the Kaminoans. Could face the republic head on”

“Or Odious...”

“Or all of them. The republic was meant to protect you, but they failed to do their job and you’ve fallen. Yet that’s all they see. Ignoring all the recovery you’ve been through.”

“Hunter...”

“We risked our lives already, and are willing to do it again for your sake.”

“I won’t let anything happen to any of you...I won’t allow it” Y/N frowns looking him in the eye as Hunter slots himself closer feeling her hands move to his torso.

“I know cyar’ika” He says before pressing his lips against hers moving his hands to her waist keeping her close.

When the war is over

I want a life with you

And I don’t want to lose you before I can get that chance

Y/N leans into Hunter’s embrace in the comfort of his quarters as she hasn’t stopped thinking about the possibility of everything going wrong.

“Are you alright?”

“No”

“You can tell me what’s on your mind”

“...I’m afraid to”

Hunter frowns squeezing her a bit as Y/N held onto his arms pressing her back against his chest. He rests his head on her shoulder holding her until she started to calm down in his embrace.

“I’m fine with dying, Hunter. This isn’t just my fight but for now it should be. I don’t want any of you getting hurt because of my actions. Not anymore...”

“Like we’re going to allow that cray’ika” Crosshair interrupts the two’s private moment by eavesdropping and barging in.

“Cross”

“Okay since he decided to actually come in” Echo adds following the sharpshooter and sitting on the edge of the bed as Cross propped himself against the wall. “We won’t let you die”

“And before you start to argue. The first attack wasn’t just meant for Odious to capture you. Darth Maul had his own agenda. We would’ve had to stop him if we didn’t give a single fuck about you”

Y/N sighs leaning into Hunter more as she took Echo’s hand once it was extended to her.

“I can’t lose any of you”

“And we can’t lose you” Wrecker adds finally joining but staying out since him entering the room would make it claustrophobic.

“So we’ll fight until we win. And we won’t lose anyone” Hunter states.

Loves of my life

I will lay down my life for you

And you would do the same for me

But I can’t let that happen

Stepping onto Kamino felt like a mistake, but Y/N needed her answers.

“Something doesn’t feel right” Tech states following Y/N close behind her as she felt it. Something was off.

FIRE

Y/N ignited one of her sabers blocking a plethora of shots fired directly at her as Crosshair uses Tech’s shoulder to give him leverage with his rifle and took down the gatling gun firing resulting in a minor explosion causing the trooper manning it to fall. But Y/N caught them with the force giving Cross a look.

“We aren’t killing any body. Especially any of your brothers.”

“Y/N—-“

“They don’t know better. Good soldiers follow orders. Once the chip is revealed, with its flaws.” Y/N states. “The war will be over. Obi Wan failed to figure it out or he simply followed orders instead of caring about those in his life. I will fight my battle another day. But for now. I’m finishing this”

As the batch kept close to Y/N as she took lead walking over to the trooper that was orders to fire. She helped him up taking a step back before he could try anything.

“Who’s orders?”

“I have orders to not talk to you”

“Well then. Wrecker” Hunter calls watching Wrecker grab the trooper by the chest plate slamming him into the wall.

“Now. Who’s orders, reg?” Crosshair glares watching him struggle in Wrecker’s grasp.

“Chancellor Palpatine and General Obi Wan Kenobi” He continues to struggle before finally being dropped and before he could call it in. Echo grabbed his communicator tossing it to Tech to dismantle.

“You think the General is here?” Echo asks getting a tense look from Y/N as she retracts her sabers when the sound of hanger doors open.

Y/N stepped through the batch staring at the transporter ship making themselves visible. The doors close and the ship lands before the 501st and 212th poured out from the sides along General Skywalker and Kenobi.

“If you think you’re going to do anything to her—-“

“Shut up” Hardcase blurts getting smacked by Jesse for blurting that out loud.

“Excuse Hardcase, we’re not going to do anything to Y/N except bring her in under orders of the chancellor”

“Now what does the chancellor want, when the council has more a problem with me?” Y/N glares bringing one hand behind her and signaling Tech as he got to work with his visor. “Obi Wan. Qui Gon taught you better than this”

“Don’t you dare—“ Anakin stops when Obi Wan stepped forward.

“He did. But I believed in the order”

“Believed” Y/N frowns. “What’s stopping you from killing me like what many Jedi did to the sith and anyone that turned against the order?”

“Y/N but you didn’t—“ Echo frowns stopping himself when Hunter looked at him to.

“You, Y/N.” Kenobi frowns taking his cloak off causing an unnoticeable eye roll from Cody, his commander. “You were tortured. Under a control that you had no say in. I had to report it since you were once under our care and then not. You were controlled by sith. Everything had to be documented. Including the scans and labs we took. The chancellor wants us to take you in for questioning”

“Instead of solving the chip and who controls it. You care more about my factor in this? What a weird way of showing it. But I’m not going with you and I’m not hurting any of you to get away”

“So turn yourself in scum”

“Okay I will hurt him but the others I won’t” Y/N glares at Anakin keeping her hands away from her lightsabers knowing if she touched one, she’s a goner. “Hm”

“Y/N—“

“This is gonna take the hard way I guess” Y/N forced Anakin and Kenobi’s sabers into her hands before getting a head start into the building and before the batch could react, Tech had already deployed her BD unit to release a grenade that put an electric shock through the two battalions and generals.

“Let’s get going”

“How the fuck do you plan that?!”

“Tech is an analyst, Cross” Hunter laughs following Y/N as Wrecker grabbed Crosshair and Tech unexpectedly to hurry their pace.

Echo stayed behind for just a second staring at the battalions before quickly following. He hacked the door with his socket to make sure it stayed closed to give them enough time.

“You got a plan?”

“I know what I’m doing Hunt”

“Hm. Love this already” Crosshair laughs being set down when they reached the lab as Tech opens the camera on the BD unit with the datapad available seeing a few troopers coming through.

“They’re coming. What you have planned. Better hurry”

“And make it quick. I can’t always handle the hacking mechanisms in Kamino” Echo states already shutting down door by door as Tech kept them posted on the closer they got.

“HOW COULD YOU TRUST THIS—THIS TRAITOR”

“ANAKIN, SHE WAS MY PADAWAN. SHE WANTED THE LIFE YOU HAVE WITH PADMÉ AND GOT IT RIPPED AWAY FROM HER THE SECOND SHE LEFT THE ORDER. IMAGINE THE LOSE YOUVE EXPERIENCED TIMES A MILLION. SHE GAVE US ALL THE INFORMATION FROM HER ABUSER AND SO ON. EVERYTHING WE NEEDED TO KNOW AND I DIDN’T LISTEN TO HER. NOW SHES AN ENEMY OF THE STATE AND I CANT FIX THAT WITH MY INSTRUCTIONS TO KILL HER”

Tech froze hearing that last bit from Obi Wan from the cameras and seeing Anakin grow hesitant but a job is a job.

A job is a job

Taglist:

@xxeiraxx @meli-that-girl @Spp2011 @fennign

[chunhua-s]

congrats on your milestone event!!! id like to request for kita soulmate!au with angst to fluff genre 👉👈 yknow sumn rejection shit bcs im hopeless like that wehee once again congrats! and i love your writing style :3

anon you’re gonna make me cry 🥺 seriously i’m happy you enjoy my writing and that you think my style’s okay! most of the time i go off of what kind of feelings i get when i’m writing or the imagery that comes up in my head and i’m never sure that it translates well enough for you guys to feel or see the same thing. hopefully as i keep writing then i’ll be able to show you guys what’s on my mind better when i’m writing! thank you again for requesting — seriously, it means a lot! and like always, you guys, don’t be afraid to come and talk to me on and off anon! your interactions mean a lot, especially for content creators! we love hearing what you all think, what you like/dislike about our work, what you think of certain characters — absolutely anything! come and talk with us more whenever you can 💕

writing for kita feels calming somehow. normally the things that come up in my chest or my mind when i write gets nearly overwhelming if that makes sense? like i’ll have to pause and remind myself to breathe because it takes up so much of my attention that i kinda get lost, but with kita, it feels more flowey to me. it’s not demanding but more like a gentle coaxing kind of thing or like looking at the surface of a calm river. i was initially scared to write for him because i was worried i wouldn’t get him right, but i feel satisfied with how this turned out, i think. i hope you guys will find it as calming as i found it too! it might not be exactly what you wanted, but because i had already written the rejection of a person for atsumu’s soulmate oneshot, i wanted to play around with kita’s character and make it instead the rejection of a concept/idea? which would indirectly lead to him... you know, rejecting his soulmate initially, but— ahhhhhh it might make sense to just read it!! these rambles keep getting longer and longer :v i’m sorry for that!! please go ahead and read and tell me what you think in the end! 💕

NOTNING MORE THAN HUMAN ➽ KITA SHINSUKE x READER

genre: angst to fluff

au: soulmate

warnings: none

shinsuke kita is human.

and of course, that much is obvious. he isn’t a machine that’s incapable of feelings and emotions, whose heart is unfamiliar with melodies of an overwhelming joy, or the quiet hymns of deep rooted sadness. his skin still burns under righteous fury and anger, his tongue still weighs heavy under hesitance and silent worries. at the end of every long day, he’s still human.

it’s because he’s human that the words on his collarbone feel so heavy, as if they might cave into the bone and destroy him under their weight. it’s because he’s human that the sight of black markings in the mirror clouds his mind with a new kind of fear and worry. shinsuke kita is human, but he’s long since taught himself how to abandon anxiety and nervousness. he surrounds himself in familiar routines that calm the turbulent voices of doubt, he builds habits that ground him to the earth lest he should be swept away by the current. shinsuke has taught himself not to be afraid for the things that will happen everyday, but meeting his soulmate isn’t one of those things he can prepare for.

it’s a strange concept, he considers to himself. shinsuke doesn’t believe in words like fate or destiny, doesn’t care for the higher powers that should judge his actions. as far as he’s concerned, his own will is what dictates where his life goes — he’s in control, and that’s how it’s always been for him. let the gods watch, if they must, but he’s already decided that he’ll live by what is right, and he wouldn’t dare falter in the face of it. and yet — and it’s such a strange thing for him to do so — he pauses under the notion of a soulmate, of a destined partner who’s supposedly bound to him for as long as he should live. at first, he hadn’t given the idea much thought; it wouldn’t serve any purpose to worry about something that would happen whether or not he wants it, he decided. the truth of it is inevitable, just as the leaves must fall in autumn and the earth should be buried under clouds of white in winter. shinsuke is human — what more can he do but to accept it?

the black words that spread across his skin like droplets of ink became the bitter seeds of doubt that he hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s raining a lot today, isn’t it? the sentence by itself is so bland, like something maybe aran or anyone else might say to him in passing, and at first, it didn’t shake him too much, until he was caught one day under a sudden summer storm. seventeen year old kita somehow found himself stranded beneath a small shelter, where the wooden covering could protect him more than his umbrella until the rain passed. it was nearly unconscious, but he somehow found himself on edge, his breath faltered with the harsh pitter patter of rainfall that tumbled from green leaves and tore ripples from the surface of the lake. shinsuke kita found himself with a stomach full of butterflies and a thundering heartbeat that stole him away from solace and calm, cast the peace that he would so often carry with him away and left him stranded among chopping waves. every trembling breath he took stung on cold air and left him with a burning feeling on his lungs. it’s unfamiliar in its presence and shakes him to his core, but shinsuke kita is reminded of his own humanity when he realizes that what he feels, is anticipation and nervousness.

and it’s an odd thing. as he becomes aware of it, he finds himself twisting his fingers together during spring time; he worries his bottom lip between his teeth during unexpected showers. he feels like a child who stands in line to ride a roller coaster for the first time in his life — wide-eyed and drowning in the millions of feelings that race throughout his body. the feeling itself is nothing new, though it’s unfamiliar and intense in its ferocity and demand, seizes his heart and squeezes so tightly that whenever it rains, he’s left breathless.

it’s almost enough to drive him mad.

his very foundation seems to fall apart with the thunder that rolls across grey skies. for every drop of rain that hits the pavement, he finds himself a jittery mess as his heartbeat tears through his chest. the man who taught himself to abandon his fears reverts into the young boy who watched out for god, for the higher beings who watched his every move. and the thought that comes with every brilliant bolt of lightning burns him just as hotly, invasive and demanding when it flashes through his mind on a single, low whisper:

will you be happy?

shinsuke kita is human. he learns as he sees and lives as he’s learned, and what he saw growing up was that soulmates were bounded together till death do them part. a connection that’s set deep in stone, never to be erased by unforgiving weather and to persevere during the cruelest of storms. it’s an inevitable reality that the gods designed, so that mortals like himself should dance on stage and tell them a story. but shinsuke knows that not all these stories have a happy ending.

there are plays that end in tragedy and loss, those that only knew memories of pain and sang with death’s violin. man becomes the actor to a play that he has no choice in and dances on the puppet master’s strings, he surrenders control and gives himself up to the music, and he has no way of knowing the end of it until the curtains should fall. shinsuke has never been one to lay down his will, and yet, as winter melts once more into gray rain clouds and scattered showers, he’s reminded of his mortality, of the fate that’s been sealed away in the falling of rain. shinsuke kita is human, and so he must, like all men do, bend to fate’s will and never utter a word against her.

and for a long time, the sentiment caused him to completely reject the idea of a soulmate.

that feeling of helplessness that would wash over him with the rain turned into a bitterness that crushed his lungs between tightened fist. the acceptance of an inevitable waltz — whether it be to eternal happiness or to a cruel melody — turned into rebellious loathing that spat in the face of destiny. it’s entirely childish in its tale, like a toddler throwing a tantrum because he doesn’t want to give up his precious toy. that toy is his control, the power he had to live his life by his truth, not by that of a higher being. he’s human, after all, and humans are selfish and resentful by nature.

he finds himself with a heavy chest today, as well, as he waits for the pouring rain to subside. the small shelter in the middle of the garden park is familiar, and carries with it the memories of his epiphany, the one that created thunder storms in his once tranquil heart, and for that, he hates this place. the sound of the rain hitting the roof is like nails scratching against the chalkboard; the sound of droplets hitting the lake like an annoying whining that he can’t get out of his head. shinsuke curses this little pocket away from the world with all the childish anger in the world — let it be damned that doing so wouldn’t change anything. for once, he let himself go on a petty grudge against the universe, and against that looming stage and its heavy curtains.

it’s nearly faint, but he picks up on the patter-patter of footfalls that quickly approach him, and he turns bronze coloured eyes to find your rain-drenched figure running for shelter under the little gazebo. you’re out of breath by the time you make it underneath, letting out an exhausted and frustrated sigh as you press your hands to your knees, and shinsuke finds himself sympathizing with the way you bitterly push your hair from your face. you’re an ordinary office worker, from what he can see; you’ve hidden what looks to be a messenger back beneath your coat, leaving you to tremble in a thin button-up. this day’s downpour had been sudden, unexpected as spring would soon surrender to the approaching summer, and he imagines that he would have been in a similar position as yourself had he not packed his umbrella beforehand.

a silence settles over the both of you that’s only broken by the heavy rain, but the presence of it is so soothing that shinsuke finds himself breathing on a lighter air. suddenly the smell of petrichor turns sweeter, the melody of raindrops melting into a distant lullaby, and for the first time, shinsuke feels his heart melt under an indescribable sense of warmth despite the weather. and when your eyes turn to find his, a helpless grin on your lips, he feels that warmth explode under summer fireworks and coarse throhgh his veins like liquid lightning.

“it’s raining a lot today, isn’t it?”

for the second time in his life, shinsuke has an epiphany under the shelter in the garden.

he feels every bit of resentment vanish on a sudden gust of wind, one that sends raindrops splashing against his skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice. not when grey clouds suddenly reveal to him pillars of sunlight that embrace your figure and makes you glow against a background of green leaves. the rain turns into something sweet and enticing, and it suddenly gives shinsuke this unexplainable urge to grab your hand and dance with you underneath the pouring showers, where he can hear your voice ring out on chimes of laughter and innocent bliss. in mere seconds, he manages to let go of the dark clouds that he’d unintentionally harboured on his chest, he let them burst with the weight of anger and childish fury so that they would hit the earth on giant droplets of rain.

shinsuke kita is human — he’s imperfect, mortal. he feels and he thinks and he speaks what’s on his mind. he can hate, and he can love: he can make that decision on whether or not to hold useless grudges and to curse a destiny he can’t change, or to welcome that inevitability with the willingness to learn and grow.

today, as he stands beneath a wooden shelter, hiding from the heavy rains, he decides to stretch his hand out and let the water hit his skin.

davi hits 200 followers — haikyuu!! au writing event! 💕

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @bootylikepeachy @tsumue

send an ask to be added!

[wonderlustlucas]

pandora’s box

⇢ word count 3.8k ⇢ warnings mentions of abuse, hints of pedophilia, explicit descriptions of death & asylum treatment. basically all the horror movie stuff. don’t read if ghosts & dying are triggers :] ⇢ a/n hello my precious children so uhm in the midst of trying to write some christmas fics my lit teacher assigned a creative story for us to write but it had to be horror themed (yknow, cus december is still spooky season?) n knee way me & @black-raven200 wrote this and since this is what took away from my WRITING writing i figured i’d post it :p enjoy!!

Only two minutes have passed since I last checked an hour ago, or so it seems. Each tick of the clock roars like a crack of thunder in my skull, serving only as a reminder to what lies ahead. Perhaps then there will be an opportunity for escape. A chance to run free from this prison, to leave everything and everyone who I know awaits my destruction. For now, though, I must sit here and endure this pathetic interrogation, knowing there will be no solution.

“Pandora,” she repeats, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, “why did you kill Elizabeth?”

I find it hard to look her in the eye. Not because she intimidates me, no— it’s the worry heavy in her tone that frightens me. Why did I kill Elizabeth? It is a complicated situation indeed; one Nurse Alice nor Sister would understand. “Self-defense,” is what I say. Again.

Sr. Bernadette sighs from her spot beside Nurse, clearly exasperated. Until now, she has been soundless, the animosity glinting in her eyes the only sort of indication I need to know of her infuriation. “Pandora, you know Elizabeth is—was—a quiet girl with quiet intentions. She stared out the window twenty-four hours a day. Why for the love of God would you need to smash her head against the wall for self-defense?” Sister raises her voice now, and if it were not for Nurse Alice in the room, I know the sting of her palm across my face would have made me speak up hours ago. She’s nicer when Nurse is here. Nurse is nice.

But how am I to explain? Time and time again I tell the truth, but they never believe me. Even now, when I look to him for help, I know they cannot see. They never see and they never will. “Tell them what she was going to do,” he says, a simple gesture of encouragement that has hope filling my heart. “Someone told me the only reason she looked out the window all day was because she was too busy planning on how she was going to kill us all,” glancing away from him to look at Nurse, I add with a smile, “so I killed her first.”

She looks to her hands folded in her lap, too flustered to hold eye contact any longer. So I turn to Sister once more, watching her jaw twitch as she processes my words. “Pandora,” Nurse Alice sighs, dejected, “was it your friend who told you about Elizabeth? The one you mentioned last time?”

“Yes!” I shout, grinning excitedly at her. She smiles softly in return. “Yes! It was him. He tells me everything, because he protects me. He’s my only friend here and he wants to keep me safe from the crazy girls like Elizabeth. Sister Bernadette, do you think he’s my guardian angel? Mama used to tell me that when you see your angel, it means you have a special place in Heav—”

“Silence,” Sr. Bernadette interrupts, raising her hand and I flinch away, expecting her to do more than stop my ramble. I would never admit it to her, but she is a terrifying woman. I will never understand how she made it into the convent, or why God would accept such an evil lady, but I guess it’s not my business. What is my business, however, is that she reminds me of Papa. The way she talks down at everyone, the way she walks, the way she hits, and even the way she looks, down to the squiggly hair growing out of the ugly mole on her cheek.

“I have heard enough,” she announces, rising from her chair and smoothing the untarnished skirt of her habit, “Nurse Alice, see me in my office when you are finished.”

With that, she leaves, not even bothering to look at me. How rude!

Nurse Alice sighs for the umpteenth time this evening when Sister closes the door with an unnecessary slam. While she sits there, kneading her eyes with her knuckles, Casper moves from his spot against the wall to sit beside her. Oh, how I wish she could just see him. Hear him. Feel him. Anything to prove to her I’m not as crazy as they think I am.

“I tried Pandora, I really tried. There’s nothing more for me to do,” she murmurs, and when she looks up her eyes are brimmed with tears. In this moment, she looks like Mama. My heart sinks. Nothing more for her to do? What does she mean nothing more? “What happens now?” I ask because, truly, what will happen after she meets with Sister? Perhaps she will help me escape. Maybe I will finally be free from this horrid place. That is what she can do.

“I cannot say,” Nurse admits, “Sister is not adept working with young children.”

“You mean crazy young children like me?” I ask.

Nurse Alice frowns, reaching across the desk to grasp my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Casper glares at her affectionate gesture. “You are not crazy, Pandora,” she reassures me, the same way she does every day, “I don’t know what you see or who they are, but I believe you. You’re not the first person in history who sees ghosts, or spirits, or like you said, your guardian angel. The world just doesn’t like to accept these kinds of things when they can’t see it and you can.” Casper doesn’t like Nurse Alice. He says not to trust her, and that she’s just like everyone else. I believe what he says about everyone else, that Elizabeth was a psychopath or that Gerard is possessed by the Devil, but I cannot accept what he speaks of Nurse Alice. She has been the only one to ever truly care, let alone give me the benefit of the doubt and know that what goes on is true.

“I’m sorry I killed Elizabeth,” I whisper, looking to the checkered marble floors. Why they chose such atrocious tiles for an asylum is beyond me, that in itself is enough to drive anyone mad. Life here constantly feels like a game of chess on these floors; you stay on your square, watching everyone else’s moves, trying to decipher their next, while simultaneously needing to gather enough courage to take a step yourself. I don’t realize until a tear hits my hand that I have started crying.

Nurse gives my hand another squeeze before pulling away. It seems I’ve stumped her, but I understand. What is she to say? ‘It’s okay’ when it really isn’t? When I look up, Casper is gone.

“Why don’t we get ready for bed? It’s been a long day,” Nurse asks after the silence has settled heavily in the air, exhaustion evident in the blue bags drawn deep below her eyes. I nod, wiping away the wet trails left on my cheeks with the back of my hand.

The walk back to my room is quiet; lights out was more than an hour ago, and the only sound of life in the hallways is the sound of our footsteps and the ceaseless hum and buzz of the sconces in between every other bedroom door. Even the routine guards spaced randomly about the hallway are unusually quiet. Perhaps things are strange tonight because of this morning’s events.

Nurse stops outside my door. It’s silent inside, somehow more so than the hallway and upon glancing in I realize it’s because Elizabeth is no longer there. I have the whole room to myself and whether this is a blessing or a curse I do not know. “Alright Pandora,” she smiles comfortingly, and upon sensing my uneasiness, bends down to hug me tightly, “I’ll see you in the morning.” I wish I could stay with her, or her stay with me. Because I still have Nurse to protect me, yet I can already feel it, the cold tickle of fear creeping up my spine, the weight of being watched burning into my back and the horror lying within the room waiting to eat me up alive. Before I at least had Elizabeth laying like a vegetable across the room to keep me company, but tonight I must face it on my own.

Squeezing Nurse tightly, I feel as if I must take some of her strength and tranquility with me in order to get through the night. “Goodnight, Ms. Alice,” I whisper, pulling away from her and returning her sad smile. With one last squeeze to my hand, she sees me to my room at last, watching me enter cautiously before turning away and clicking the door shut behind her. The atmosphere inside seems heavy all of a sudden, suffocating in the way dread hangs over my head. “Casper?” I whisper out, quiet voice piercing the room’s stillness as if my nightmare itself does not lurk in the corner.

Leaping into bed, pretending that it offers some sort of protection against the evil, I stare with a teary gaze back at the Shadow against the wall opposite of me. Unlike Casper, Shadow does not speak. It does nothing but stands around all day, watching me when I’m alone and waiting until I turn away to finally take the life from my body. That’s why Casper is so important— not only does he warn me of everyone else’s intentions, but he scares Shadow away.

“Casper!” I call again, terror sparking through my veins like electrical currents when Shadow jolts to stretch its black figure across the floor instead. Past my almost unbothered façade, I wonder if it can feel the way my heart thumps against its glass ribcage every time it comes close. At this, my friend finally returns, appearing sitting atop Elizabeth’s empty bed. Shadow instantly disappears. “Oh, thank God, you’re here,” I let out the heavy breath that had been caught in my throat, “and look! Now you have your own bed!”

He frowns instead. “If I stay over here, Shadow can get you,” he retorts and I instinctively wince at the thought. “Okay, never mind then,” scooting closer to the wall, I pat the hard mattress, “I don’t want to risk anything.”

Casper hums in content, appearing beside me in the blink of an eye and even though he physically is not there, it’s nice to imagine being held, protected against everything that dares come get me. There is a cool breeze against my head where he pats gently, instantly bringing the heavy lull of sleep to my eyelids as he switches the lights off. “Goodnight, Casper. Thanks for protecting me,” I mumble incoherently, and even though I can’t see it, I swear I feel him smile against my hair.

There are no smiles come morning. Instead, it is the total opposite. With a force unnecessarily aggressive for seven AM, two security officers from another level burst into the room, sending the door against the wall with a crashing bang. Jumping awake, I find that Casper has vanished in the same instant that these men come storming the small confines of my room. I have not even finished rubbing the last remnants of a dream from my eyes when they are seizing my arms, quite literally forcing me up and out of bed. “What—” I hiss, attempting to pull away but it is absolutely futile.

The panic really begins to set in when we reach the hallway and turn right towards the elevator instead of left for breakfast. “Where are you taking me? Let go!” I shout, flailing in their grip and trying to ground my feet to the floor, but they easily continue on. What is happening? Where is everyone? Where is Nurse?

“Nurse Alice!” I scream at the top of my lungs, pulling back against the guards and gaining only a second of freedom. It’s all I need to slip from one of their grasps, spinning to look back to where Nurse Alice stands against the wall every morning after role call. “Ms. Alice!” I scream again, thrashing against the men with my heart racing a mile a minute when she only stares ahead at the scene unfolding before her. “Nurse!” I wail, tears suddenly spilling from my eyes. Why isn’t she doing anything? “Nurse Alice! Help me!”

People have started to gather, watching with wide eyes as I am drug closer to the elevator. The harder I fight, the more useless it becomes. There’s a sharp pinch at the back of my thigh, and when I twist around I find that one of the other nurses on our floor has poked me with a long syringe, and just like that my limbs feel three times heavier, as if just lifting an arm requires the strength of a rhino. They’ve stuck me with something, and now they’re taking me somewhere bad. Just as we reach the doors to the elevator, my head rolls back to look at Nurse Alice one last time. Past the tears blurring my vision, I’m able to pick her out, unbothered and looking to the floor.

Casper was right. She is just like everyone else.

-

Something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

I have been in this joke of a room much longer than expected. When I arrived, the drug that knocked me out kept me unconscious until the following day, and now two days have passed without any sign of Casper or Shadow. Later after dinner is served, when I pass by the mirror hung up on the wall, I see Shadow’s reflection behind me, but when I turn around, nothing is there. There is no gut-wrenching sense of fear, I have slept like a baby, and for the first time in my life, I feel normal. Left to my own thoughts with no need to constantly keep an eye out for the evil that has always lurked. While solitary confinement is not the best way to deal with these sorts of things, I’ve found a sense of solemnity in my isolation. No Elizabeth, no Casper, no Shadow. Just me and my empty, unfiltered thoughts.

I wonder why no one has followed me into my new room. It is ridiculously small, with a single bed and the necessary means of living, but that’s it. A perfect scenario for Shadow to prey on me when I have no space to hide, so I am utterly clueless as to why I have been left to my own devices.

So, I’ve decided to drop the topic. Without the fear-induced worries I have been living with for the past fifteen years, I’ve taken to spending my days doing other things. Reading, while an enjoyable activity, is only secondary to the time I spend simply thinking. Thinking of my family, my old friends, school, what goes on in the world and, finally, what I will do when I leave this place.

I’d like to run away to a new country. Without the educational or financial means to get a good job, or a home for that matter, maybe I could find a kind farmer to hire me. His family could become mine and I will learn what it is to live a normal life. And then, one day, I will be able to do it all on my own. For now, I must figure out how I will escape. Or, if I’m lucky, now that my mind is free, they will let me go themselves.

“Don’t be silly,” a familiar voice disrupts my daydreams and I jump up from bed, heart hammering in my chest when I find Casper across the room. His words make me frown. “If Nurse Alice couldn’t save you, then no one else here will,” he hisses and, squinting further, panic burns in my veins at the furious spark in my friend’s once kind eyes. Instead, there are no pupils, only pools of blood red in place of honey gold. “What are you doing here?” I ask, sitting up and staring at him fully now. I’ve looked much scarier things in the eyes before.

Casper snorts. “I’ve been trying to get you in this room for years, and when I finally do, I cannot get through the physical walls. So of course, you use this time to come up with silly fantasies for your future, leaving me behind. How rude of you, Pandora.”

“I haven’t thought once about leaving you behind, Casper! You left me.” I gasp, insulted by his accusation. He is being absolutely ridiculous, thinking it’s somehow my fault that I’ve ended up here. A muscle in his jaw twitches, his fists clenched angrily at his sides.  Why he is so angry I do not know.

“Silly, stupid girl,” he sighs, edging close. “Why are you being so mean, Casper? Friends don’t say that to each other,” I whisper, heart twinging in hurt. At this, he moves to stand in front of the bed, reaching to firmly grasp my jaw. More importantly, the panic burns like an inferno now, for I can feel his touch. “I am not your friend, Pandora,” Casper chuckles darkly, “and I no longer have to protect you from anything ever again. You know why?”

“Why?” I whisper, on the verge of tears again. Crying is the only way to cope living in this place.

“Because I am what you needed protection from, and now it seems as if you are all mine to devour.” His words take a moment to process, and by the time I have caught up he is already closer, heart constricting under his grasp and yet all he does is hold his palm out in front of my chest.

“Casper,” I croak out, jarring and brutal bursts of pain searing from my chest and down through my entire body, “Casper, what is happening?” It has not yet clicked. At his silence I have no affirmation to what is happening, only left to assume that this is some weird reaction to what was given me to knock me out. But this is not normal. Not the way my consciousness seems to float in an empty space, filled with thick static. There is so much pain. I want to cry out but everything is fuzzy, I see nothing at all and the loud pounding of my heart echoes like thunder in my skull. So much pain. I hear the ticking of the clock in the room with Sister and Nurse Alice, the game of chess on these checkered floors and I feel what I made Elizabeth feel in her final moments. There is everything and nothing happening all at once. My whole body is draining away, and almost as soon as the black mist swirls at the edges of my mind, it is already all black.

-

When I wake, things are not where they left off. But then again, where did I leave off? I cannot remember. It is a blur. I cannot recall what yesterday was, or what happened. When I wake, there is a haze clouding my mind that leaves everything uncertain, and even though I have not fully awoken, it feels as if I am floating out in the abyss. Papa must have gone mad last night, but now I am safe with Mama. No, no, that can’t be right— I must have just come back from Dr. Chae’s hypnotism. No, that can’t be it either, it’s way too cold. Doctor used to have the heat blasting year-round. So… where am I? The panic starts to set in. Everything feels… wrong. All of my thoughts are clouded. My emotions are dulled, I feel no pain, no happiness, no anger, no… nothing.

Slowly, my reality starts to piece itself together and my surroundings fade in. The darkness is still there, but instead of the smothering presence it had previously, it now lingers at the corner of my vision, almost as if it has just become a part of me now. I am in an office. The barren and cracked walls feel familiar somehow, but I cannot recall why, I have never been here before. Or have I? I am not so sure of anything.

Someone walks in, and in a hushed tone she starts to argue with… Sister Bernadette? “She has been here only twenty-four hours, but she already speaks to the walls as if time has already broken her,” Sister says in a familiar tone.

I am in the asylum.

“I heard her say a name yesterday, Casper, I believe,” the woman answers quietly and cautiously, as if at any moment Sister will snap.

Sister almost spits out her reply, “Like that makes it any better Alice, she is still speaking to herself in the middle of the night.”

Alice, Nurse Alice. All of a sudden everything comes crashing down, I remember it all. Killing Elizabeth, Shadow, Casper’s betrayal, Nurse Alice, all of it. I begin to feel the sensation of tears behind my eyes, but no water flows. I feel like I am hyperventilating, but no air comes out of my mouth. What’s happening to me? Am I dead? Am I dying? The panic sets in again, gone is the emotional numbness that I previously held. Is this a joke, has Casper simply— no. Someone new is about to walk in. I recognize the voice, it’s Casper. A young girl trails behind him, she’s small with black hair and—

No. No no no no no no. This can’t be real. It’s impossible. Following behind Casper is… me? It doesn’t make any sense. I try to speak, scream, to somehow tell this past version of myself that Casper is not who he seems, but no one seems to hear me. Slowly, I walk towards them and detach myself from the wall where I previously stood. I see myself look up from the floor and stare directly at me, like she suddenly realized my existence. Her eyes grow wide and she backs up slowly as I move forward. “Casper?” She whispers, frightened. “What is that Shadow?”

I spin around, searching for Shadow. Are they still following me?

I move further away from the wall, but suddenly my past self screams. “Casper, help me! It’s coming closer!” I turn back around, but there’s nothing there. Realization creeps up on me slowly at first, like a panther getting ready to attack its prey. Then, it strikes. Am I the Shadow? I try to test my theory creeping back into the wall. “Don’t worry,” Casper speaks finally, “it’s leaving now, you’ll always be safe with me.”

Lies. I was never safe; I never will be. Not even now, in death, or whatever the hell this is, can I find peace. But maybe, just maybe, this time I can warn myself of the evil that lies within him. It is the only thing I can do to save myself from this painful loop of death.

-

It has been three years. I’ve watched myself die sixteen times. Today, I start all over again.

[seungcheolsbodyharness]

heart shaped: IV

wc: 6.3k

warnings: mild violence

summary: you and jihoon make your way to soyoung’s NYE party. everything is going just fine, until a pair of someones make a surprise, unwanted appearance.

genre: fake dating, angst

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || finale (in progress)

nine o’clock comes quicker than you anticipated. 

you and jihoon had spent the last few hours huddled together in his studio while jihoon showed you how he did his job - producing, songwriting, a little bit of everything. 

the smile on his face as he explained everything had been electric, drawing you in with every word and gesture. you tried your hardest to follow along, but jihoon spoke quickly when excited. it was obvious how much he loved his work. 

nine o’clock rolls around with a timely text from soyoung, confirming your attendance since no one had heard from you or jihoon since lunchtime. you text her back to soothe her worry and apologize, saying that you and jihoon had been busy and you’d see her soon. 

“guess we should get going.” you stand and stretch, muscles stiff from sitting too long. jihoon does the same, letting out a content little sigh. “do you normally sit for that long? it can’t be good for your back.”

he hums, rolling his shoulders. “i try not to, but…i have a tendency to get sucked into my work. i see a chiropractor pretty regularly, and i uh…stretch and go for a walk for food, usually.” he twists to one side and you hear a small ‘pop’ and does the same in the other direction. he gathers his things and you yours, and then he leads you out of the studio and back down the hallway. 

“besides, seungcheol always comes down from upstairs and makes me get up and walk around with him so he can talk stuff out.” jihoon nods to the guard at the desk - dongsoo has left for the night, and the guard here looks much less friendly. but perhaps he’s just mad about working on new years eve. 

“so you and seungcheol are close?” you ask as you enter the elevator. jihoon’s face pinches up like he’s thinking too hard, and you can’t help but laugh. “i just didn’t get to meet many of your friends at the carnival. and i already knew woomin, obviously.”

“seungcheol isn’t a baseball friend. actually, of my like…friends that i see regularly, none of them play baseball with me. which is probably for the best.” he steps out of the elevator when you come to a halt in the garage and leads the way towards the car. “i’ve known him a long, long time though. since high school. we were in choir together, actually.” without hesitating, jihoon opens your door before walking around the front of the car to the driver’s side. 

you hop in and close the door as he does the same, starting the car. “so he works here with you? what does he do?”

“he’s a personal trainer for the idols and actors in the company.” he pulls the car out onto the street, joining the evening traffic. soyoung lives not too far from the city center, so even with traffic you’ve arrived pretty quick. 

before you can go in, though, jihoon says, “uhhh,” which catches your attention, so you look at him expectantly. “so, i don’t really drink, so if you want to get like, you know, shit-faced, i’ll make sure you get home safe.”

your eyes go wide, thinking for a moment maybe he’s giving it up for your sake. “are you sure? i can contain myself.”

he waves you off, though. “i really, genuinely don’t drink that much so holding off isn’t a huge deal.” he shrugs and looks away, flicking an invisible piece of dust from the steering wheel. “and i think that, yknow, as your ‘boyfriend’, i should make sure that you’re safe.” he laughs nervously. “soyoung will kill me if i let anything bad happen to you.”

your face softens and you pat his arm gently. “yeah, i guess you’re right. sounds good. i’ll try to keep myself under control anyway.”

jihoon nods and gets out of the car, hustling around to your side to open your door. you step out and onto the slick ground, arm instinctively reaching for jihoon’s when your feet slide underneath you. he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you, and you blush softly, thanking him.

“don’t worry about it.” he replies. once you’re steady, he releases you and takes your hand in his own, the two of you walking side by side towards soyoung’s door.

jihoon doesn’t bother to knock, twisting the doorknob and walking straight inside instead. you follow him, announcing loudly to soyoung that you’d arrived. her head peeks out from the wall separating the kitchen from the living room and she smiles at the two of you, face already a little pink.

“hey lovebirds.” she coos as the two of you leave your coats and shoes at the door. “have a nice day together~?“ 

"yeah, nosy, we did.” you glance sidelong at jihoon and smile softly, which he returns. you lead the way to the living room- hands now rejoined having shed your layers - where a number of people have already gathered, drinks in hand. most of them you recognize, some of them you don’t, but jihoon seems to be familiar with the faces you are not, so you assume you’ll get to know them eventually. 

you and jihoon snag a spot on the giant beanbag soyoung has pulled out from the computer room, ending up somewhat snuggled together - jihoon leans back against the wall, one leg pulled up beneath him, one arm wrapped around your back and his hand nestled gently on your waist. the two of you manage to seamlessly join the conversation, and being with jihoon like this feels comfortable. feels easy, even pressed up together like you are. once again, you think about how glad you are the two of you came together like this, how you seemed to find each other right when you really, really needed it. if you had to do something like this with anyone, it feels right that it’s jihoon. 

you’re pulled from your thoughts when jihoon leans in towards you, saying, “hey, do you want something to drink? i’m gonna get a coke." 

you nod, asking him for a cup of whatever concoction soyoung has brewed up, and he nods back as he pulls himself up off the beanbag to make his way into the kitchen. more people pour in through the door while he’s gone, and you follow along with the story soonyoung - a childhood friend of woomin and jihoon’s who you’ve met before - is telling about finding his boyfriend face down in a pile of snow first thing that morning, laughing when soonyoung reveals that he’d gone out there, drunk, crying about frosty the snowman. jihoon comes back to you, balancing your drink, his drink, and a plate of snacks that he sets down on the beanbag between you after handing you your drink. 

sometime later, after nearly everyone has arrived, someone (likely seungcheol, who you’ve been properly introduced to now) suggests playing a drinking game. you’re excited to play, actually, considering your confidence in your ability to follow things along even intoxicated. jihoon also seems excited, and when you question his thrill he tells you it’s always fun to watch people get really shitfaced and make fools of themselves. 

"you won’t let me make a fool of myself, will you baby?” you ask, pouting up at him. he flushes and laughs, running a hand over the back of his neck. 

“no, baby, of course i won’t.” he says softly, sipping at his drink. 

“are you going to play too?” you ask. he raises his eyebrows, shrugs. 

“i mean, i’m not drinking, so…no?” you pout at him, more dramatically, and he turns away from you. “what? don’t give me that face.”

“you can play with your soda.” you whine. “i want you to play, hoonie. please?”

“yeah, hoonie.” comes a chorus of voices. jihoon turns a glare at seungcheol, soonyoung, and hoseok in turn, who are all laughing together at the kitchen counter. “play with us!” seungcheol whines, and jihoon’s jaw tenses. you reach out to him, about to tell him not to worry about it when he sighs. 

“fine.” he looks back at you, pointedly ignoring the cheers coming from his friends. “i’ll play along for you, baby.”

you smile at him, bright, grabbing his arm and squeezing. “good!!! it’s going to be fun, just you wait.”

the game, it turns out, is truth or dare. there is a mixed chorus of groans and cheers, but you all settle into a circle as best as you can in the living room, everyone with either a fresh drink or one at the ready. it is quickly decided that the game will be played with an app from soyoung’s phone - spinning a bottle seems almost too juvenile. 

the first few rounds pass quickly - you and jihoon both manage to escape the randomizer’s grasp while some others aren’t so lucky. sohee - seungcheol’s girlfriend - has somehow managed to be picked three times, two of which she’d chosen to drink instead of answering the “truth”s that she’d been asked. 

it’s on the seventh - maybe eighth? - go-round that soyoung laughs heartily and calls out your name. your eyes go wide, and you nod, and turn slowly to face soonyoung, whose smile is too wide for your liking. 

“truth or dare?” he asks, eyes slowly flitting between you and jihoon.

“truth.” you respond quickly, clutching nervously to the rim of your cup. you can feel jihoon’s hand at your back, thumb rubbing idly back and forth. 

“what is something about jihoon that you like better than your ex?” 

jihoon’s hand freezes on your back and soyoung squawks something about how “that’s not cool, soonie,” but you respond before anyone can kick up too much of a fuss.

“he doesn’t make me second-guess how he feels about me. with my ex i was always…yeah. i know where jihoon and i stand.” you take a sip of your drink to have something to do, but you feel good about your answer. soonyoung seems pleased as well, and the game continues. jihoon’s hand resumes its idle motion at your back. 

he takes a sip from his drink as he watches the game, staying mostly quiet except to quip or laugh at something someone else says. every now and then he leans over to check in on you, whispering “doin’ okay?” and waiting patiently for you to nod. 

the game continues and as people drink more, the dares and the questions grow more ridiculous and scandalous. seungcheol gets dared to stand outside in just his shirt and underwear for a full minute, soyoung confesses that before meeting woomin she had never thought she’d settle down and love one person forever. you laugh when she says that, because you know for a fact that it’s true. before woomin, soyoung had insisted she would never be tied down, no man would ever come between her and her goals. hoseok gets dared to call the person he wants to sleep with the most, and with a chorus of hollering in the background, he steps into the kitchen to make the call. 

he steps back out a few minutes later, cheeks tinged pink from more than just alcohol and a big grin on his face. 

“i’ll see you guys later.” he says, bringing the bottles and cups he’d used into the kitchen. “i have someone special waiting for me.”

jeers follow him to the door, shouts of “use protection!” and “get it!” among other things until the front door closes behind him. 

the group erupts into gossip, people wondering who he could have called, shouting out names of possibilities. 

jihoon stands and goes into the kitchen for a new drink and brings one back for you as well, setting it down next to his feet for whenever you were ready for it. he leans over close to you, turning his face away from the rest of the group to whisper, “they’re all wrong. he met someone at the gym last week that he’s been losing it over ever since. he’s gonna be embarrassed by this story later, that he only got the courage to call on a drunk dare.” he pulls back and laughs under his breath, and you giggle too. “it’s a secret for some reason though, so don’t tell anyone.”

you nod, solemn, and jihoon laughs again. 

everyone settles down and soyoung starts the game back up.

the thing with drinking games is that no one ever drinks only when their turn comes - people sip absentmindedly from the drinks in their hands, getting drunker along with everyone else, and because of that everyone in the room - save for jihoon - was already well on the way to being smashed. 

11:30 

the game breaks a couple more times, and when it comes back together now, soonyoung’s face is pinched and geared towards jihoon, eyes full of suspicion. 

“how come - hic - this whole time, hoon hasn’t - hic - gone yet? m’gon ask somethin’ real good.”

soyoung squints and scrolls through the app on her phone, mouth drawing into a tiny ‘o’. “i forgot!!!!” she cries. “i didn’ put him on the - the list.”

around you, everyone groans and complains and jihoon tenses beside you. slowly, you look up at him and see his brows drawn and his mouth in a tight line. “hoonie?” you whisper. he looks down at you and blinks, smiling reassuringly after wiping the annoyance from his face. 

“i’m fine, baby.” he says. 

“jihoon has to answer three because he hasn’t gone!” seungcheol demands, lifting his beer into the air dramatically. jihoon rolls his eyes as everyone seems to agree. 

“fine. go ahead, drunkards.” he puts his hands out as if to say “do your worst.” you hope for his sake that they don’t, but soonyoung and seungcheol look much too pleased. 

“truth or dare, hoon.” seungcheol takes it upon himself to nab one of the three questions.

“truth.”

“what,” seungcheol starts, is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?”

jihoon sighs and rolls his eyes. “finding out minji cheated on me through social media. from someone else.” his tone is cold and distant and he finishes the though with a sip of his coke. “what’s next?”

seokmin - an actor friend from jihoon and seungcheol’s company - shoots his hand into the air. “truth or dare!” jihoon looks at him with something resembling fondness and responds this time with dare. something bubbles in your stomach, nerves maybe, but jihoon seems unworried. “i dare you to look into your girlfriend’s eyes for a full minute and say something romantic.”

a few boos sound out at this, but there is also laughter, and jihoon huffs out a sigh as he thinks about it. 

“fine.” he decides. “someone get a timer.”

someone announces that they’re on it, and jihoon turns his body to face you straight on. his cheeks are the slightest bit flushed, almost as if he’d been drinking, but you know better. whoever has the timer says “start!” and jihoon’s eyes meet yours. 

you’re not sure what you’re feeling. you’ve had quite a bit to drink, and your head was already feeling fuzzy before you found yourself staring into the eyes of your fake-beloved. but now, seeing the warmth there, you feel your body heat up and your heart pound faster. he says nothing, not yet, but he smiles at you softly and you smile back, muscles moving on automatic. 

whoever’s holding the timer announces, “30 seconds left!”

jihoon’s heart feels like it’s going to hammer out of his chest - he wonders if anyone else can hear it. of course seokmin would think up a dare so sweet, and soft, and jihoon knew better than to take a drink in the face of a challenge so seemingly easy. it wasn’t a secret that jihoon wasn’t the most romantic- not in the loud, typical ways, anyway. the ones society deemed more important. looking directly into your eyes spurs a number of thoughts in his head, but he isn’t sure how safe it is to say them out loud. 

“10 seconds!”

jihoon takes a deep breath and lets it out. he blinks a few times, bites his lip. “i’m so happy that i met you.” he says softly. “i hope this - this thing we have - works out in all the ways we want it to.”

you smile at him, fond. the timer goes off and people start to complain that his words weren’t enough, but you turn to them sharply and say that it meant a lot to you.

“and i’m his girlfriend, so my opinion is the one that matters.”

jihoon reaches out and squeezes your hand before settling himself back against the edge of the beanbag, his arm wrapping around your waist. 

“who’s next?” he asks. his eyes flit over to soonyoung, who seems lost in thought. sober, that’s usually not a good sign. but drunk and in the middle of a game of truth or dare makes jihoon nervous. 

“truth or dare?” soonyoung asks. jihoon takes his time before deciding, considering soonyoung with a heavy look. 

“truth.” he decides, eyes narrowed, hand clenching around the drink he held. 

soonyoung smiles, more of a smirk, and jihoon’s stomach sinks. “tell us, jihoon.” he drums his fingers together, pausing surely for effect. “if you had to pick between one month into your last relationship, or the one you have now, which one would you say has been better so far?”

jaws around the room drop, and jihoon nearly crushes the can in his hand.

soonyoung’s eyes pop, and you’re not looking but you’re sure the look jihoon is giving him isn’t pleasant. 

seungcheol starts to speak up, but soonyoung is already backtracking. “nevermind it was a bad idea, i’ll -”

“now.” 

soonyoung’s mouth hangs open, surprised. a chorus of “huh?” makes its way around the room and back to jihoon, whose jaw is set and cheeks are red. 

“now. i would pick what i have now over anything with minji. it doesn’t matter how good things were before, she ruined that.” jihoon stands abruptly, walking towards the front door. as quickly as you can on unsteady legs, you stand yourself and follow him. he pulls his coat on and says nothing until you do.

“are you leaving?” you ask quietly. despite what you’d said earlier, you suddenly feel very unsure of yourself. 

jihoon looks up at you, almost as if he hadn’t noticed you there. “no - no, i just…need to step outside for a minute. i wouldn’t leave without you.” 

you nod slowly and reach for your own coat, your scarf and shoes. jihoon protests, if only mildly, but you ignore them and lead the way outside. 

11:45

you and jihoon stand outside together in silence, leaning against his car. 

it’s you that breaks it.

“she really hurt you, huh.” it’s less of a question and more of an observation. jihoon hums in response, but you hadn’t expected much more than that. “i’m really sorry, hoonie.”

jihoon hums again, then lets out a short bark of laughter. “the only one who should be sorry is my ex. and yours, i’m assuming.”

you sigh. “haejoon is the last thing i want to think about right now.”

jihoon nods. “right, right - sorry.”

the silence returns, and you play with a loose string on your glove. 

“i wasn’t - i would pick our fake relationship anyway.” jihoon says suddenly. “i know i made it sound like it was only because she cheated on me, but really, what you and i have is way better. even if it’s…fake.” there’s something in the way he says in that has your heart clenching, but you’re not sure what.

the icy weather has done well to sober you up, but you’re still definitely drunk. too drunk try and parse out what jihoon might or might not mean. 

“we should kiss.” you say, eyes trained on that damn loose string. jihoon makes a choking noise beside you. “at midnight, i mean. the other couples definitely will.”

jihoon stares at you for a few moments before he says anything. it seems he, too, is trying to decide if it’s worth it to find any deeper meaning in your words. “are you sure?” is what he goes with, instead.

“yeah, i think we’ll get too much shit if we don’t.” jihoon reaches out and plucks the loose string off clean, laying it in your palm. “thanks.”

“if you really think we should…” jihoon says softly. 

“if you’re worried i’m just….dunno, drunk, i’ve been thinking about this for a while. just…forgot.” you shrug.

jihoon’s chest caves in. you’ve been thinking about kissing him? he clenches and unclenches his fists, urging himself not to look too deep. it makes sense. these things needed consideration for your ruse to really fool anyone. of course you’d thought about it, it was a logical thing to do. nothing more.

“okay.” he says. “sounds like a plan.” 

“cool.” you return. “glad we’re on the same page.” you shiver, lips trembling, and suggest going back inside. “do you feel better now, hoonie?”

he nods. “yeah, yeah i do. thanks for coming out here with me.”

you nod back and reach out, taking his hand in yours. 

11:55

once returning inside, soonyoung plies jihoon with apologies, reaching out with attempts at hugs that jihoon maneuvers himself away from. the beanbag has been taken over by two people you don’t recognize, locked in a heated kiss, so you manage to squeeze onto an empty spot on the couch. there’s only room for one of you, really, so you end up in jihoon’s lap. 

soyoung has turned the tv to the channel homing the ball drop, a counter at the bottom of the screen detailing only three minutes left now until the end of the year. you hold your drink in your hand, other arm wrapped around jihoon’s shoulders for stability. 

11: 59

the final countdown begins. 

the thirty second mark sparks a cheer amongst the crowd in soyoung’s living room. 

you toss back as much of your drink as you can handle. the closer you get to kissing jihoon the tighter your stomach and chest begin to feel. it’s almost worse that the feelings aren’t bad, necessarily. you almost welcome them. 

you take another swig.

ten seconds left.

nine.

eight.

seven.

six.

five.

four. 

three.

two.

one.

around you, the room erupts into cheers as music starts playing, fireworks to be heard from out on the street.

your heart pounds in your ears, and you turn to face jihoon. he looks calm, and it calms the restless beating. you lean down as he tilts his head up, and you press your lips softly to his. 

you’re not sure why you were so worried about this kiss. kissing jihoon, much like every other part of your fake relationship, feels fine. feels good, even. you might almost say it feels natural, but you’re drunk so you don’t dwell on it too much. the kiss is soft, and sweet, and reminds you a lot of first kisses you’ve had in the past. jihoon’s lips move gently against yours, and you respond in kind. the cheers from the rest of the party continue as you pull away from him. you laugh, and he laughs too, bright sounds bubbling up from both of you as jihoon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. soyoung and woomin are still going at it near the kitchen counter, and numerous other couples can be spotted doing the same as you glance around the room. 

“jihoon.” you say softly, tugging at his arm, “i need to pee, let me up.”

“ah.” he releases you and helps you stand on wobbly legs so you can wade through the crowd towards the little hall where the bathroom is. a few jeers follow you, but you ignore them - the pressure in your bladder is much more important. 

you finish and wash your hands, opening the door to, surprisingly, find jihoon waiting.

“do you have to pee too?” you ask. he has had a lot of soda to drink, to be fair.

“no, no.” he shakes his head. “i um -”

jihoon doesn’t get to finish what he wanted to say.

from the living room you can hear soyoung screaming obscenities, and alarm bells go off in your head immediately, rushing from the hall with jihoon at your heels to see what was wrong.

you immediately wish you’d just stayed in the hallway.

there, standing in the living room, is soyoung, held back by woomin who looks as if he’d much rather let her go. standing opposite your best friend is someone you thought you’d never see again. someone you’d spent so much time trying to move past after he’d made you question everything you’d ever done.

standing opposite soyoung is haejoon. your ex-boyfriend. who’s decided not only to crash soyoung’s party, but to bring his girlfriend with him. 

“how fucking dare you,” soyoung is screaming, “what makes you think i would let you into my home after what you did?”

“that goes for you too, minji.” woomin seethes, eyes narrowed at haejoon’s girlfriend. 

the aura of the room is filled with hate, and anger, but you’re just filled with unbelievable sadness. 

then haejoon sees you, and he smirks. “well, fancy seeing you here.”

“i was invited.” you say meekly. you hate this, hate the way he makes you feel even after all this time. small and weak and unsure of yourself. 

he shrugs. “well, the party we were at before was a bust, and soyoung has always thrown a good party, so i thought we would drop by.” the girl he’s with smiles, something full of spite and malice, her eyes narrowed at you. 

“that’s your ex, babe?” she simpers. “no wonder you broke up with her.” she titters a ridiculous little laugh behind her hand, and haejoon chuckles before telling her to “behave.”

you feel like you’re going to throw up. soyoung looks like she’s ready to claw this girl’s eyes out - her name is already gone from your memory, she isn’t important, she’s not - and several of the men in the room have stood and are moving closer to haejoon. you don’t want things to get violent, not at all, but you do kind of wish someone would punch haejoon’s lights out. 

and then jihoon is stepping out from behind you, making his way through the crowd until he’s standing face to face with haejoon. haejoon’s girlfriend is staring at him, eyes wide and face gone pale like she’s seen a ghost.

“so you’re haejoon.” jihoon’s voice is eerily calm and your heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest any moment. 

haejoon nods, looking jihoon up and down. “and you are?”

jihoon’s eyes glance towards the girlfriend, who won’t meet his gaze. “i’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” he turns back to haejoon. “i’m minji’s ex-boyfriend. the one she cheated on to be with you. did she ever tell you that? that she had to lie and sneak and hurt people to go out with you?”

you feel like your world is going to explode. you need a drink. you need ten drinks. but jihoon doesn’t seem to be done.

haejoon scoffs.“she told me, yeah. right after she dumped you. by then you guys were over, so what does it matter to me?”

jihoon sees red. “you’re a piece of shit. both of you. you deserve each other.” his fists are clenching at either side and the whole room seems to be holding its breath. 

“what’s your fucking problem, dude?” haejoon raises his eyebrows. “i didn’t do anything to you.”

jihoon considers this. his fists clench tighter. “no, i suppose not intentionally. you did, however, hurt someone very important to me.”

haejoon seems thrown off by that. and then his balance is thrown off when jihoon rears back and punches him straight in the jaw, knocking him back towards the wall.

“jihoon!” minji screeches. he ignores her and stalks towards haejoon.

“you both need to get out of here while i’m still being nice.” jihoon seethes. “you’re a piece of shit boyfriend and a piece of shit altogether, so i guess i’m glad you two found your way to each other. but,” he points back towards you, eyes locked with haejoon. “before you go, you owe my girlfriend a fucking apology for how you treated her.”

you start to tell jihoon that it’s fine, you’re fine, but he turns back towards you with determination in his eyes before turning back to haejoon.

“i’m waiting.”

haejoon is, by all means, much larger than jihoon. regardless of this, he’s always been a coward with only self-preservation to drive him, so he glances over jihoon’s shoulder at you and nods his head.

“i’m sorry.”

“that’s not good enough.” jihoon bites out. 

“i’m sorry i was a shitty boyfriend, okay? i treated you bad and i was talking to other girls while we were dating and i should have broken up with you sooner.”

jihoon punches him again, right in the gut. “that’s not a fucking apology, i ought to-” jihoon stops speaking when you let out a choked sob, and makes the choice to leave haejoon doubled over and instead move back towards you. woomin takes the opportunity to let soyoung go, and she rushes forward to grab haejoon by the ear and drag him towards the door. minji makes to follow, but you call out to her this time.

jihoon, much like everyone else in the room, looks surprised.

“you owe jihoon an apology too, you bitch. i know you never gave him one.”

she narrows her eyes at you and walks away, and now in addition to the unbridled sadness there is unimaginable rage boiling under your skin. you start to walk towards her but jihoon holds you back, wrapping his arms around you and whispering into your ear. 

“it’s fine.” he murmurs. “i’m not worth that kind of trouble.”

you scoff before wrapping your arms up around his shoulders. “what, and i am?” you whisper back, laying your head in his neck. 

“of course.”

you chuckle, but it ends up paving the way for a sob. you’re still reeling from everything that just happened, and seeing haejoon had been enough of a slap in the face before he’d opened his goddamned mouth and -

“sweetheart.” comes soyoung’s voice, soft. “why don’t you let jihoon take you home, okay?" 

you turn your head to look at her, and she looks like she’s ready to cry herself. you hate that the party has turned out this way. you can’t help feeling like it was all your fault. 

"i - i want to stay.” you reply. “i just - i need a few minutes.”

soyoung shakes her head. “i think after all that excitement it’s best we call it a night. go home, drink lots of water, and call me tomorrow, okay?”

behind her, woomin is rounding everyone up and herding them towards the door. no one seems upset, but you still feel awful. your lip wobbles and soyoung reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. 

you promise to call her and release your hold on jihoon, sniffling and rubbing at your nose. everyone else is gone now, you notice. jihoon takes you by the hand and brings you to the door, helping you back into your shoes and coat. now that everything is over, you just feel…numb. it’s probably shock, you think. 

you say goodbye and once more promise soyoung you’ll call her, waving goodbye to woomin. jihoon does the same, and then you’re back out into the cold and heading for his car. he helps you up before getting in himself, and there’s only quiet between you other than the sound of the car engine turning over and music playing from the bluetooth. he pulls out of their driveway and onto the street, and it’s not until you’re out on the main road that he says anything. 

“are you hungry?” 

you look over at him, not really sure. you shrug. the two of you had eaten a light dinner, and there’d been food at the party, but you find yourself sort of…craving something, if only so you don’t have to talk. 

“do you mind if we stop somewhere on the way - “

“i don’t want to go home, jihoon.” you say softly. “not - not right now. can we just - drive around for a while?”

jihoon blinks, caught off guard, but nods. “sure. then we should definitely eat something.” 

you end up at a 7-11, which works just fine for you. jihoon peruses snacks and sandwiches while you bee-line for the liquor - desperate to distract yourself from the ache beginning to gnaw fiercely at your insides. you grab three bottles of soju - surprised that there are any left - and march up to the counter, handing over your id and your money, thanking the clerk before wandering back to jihoon. he has a few bags of chips and some instant ramen tucked into his arm, and when he sees your bag his brows draw together. 

“i’m not trying to tell you what to do, but is that - are you sure that’s a good idea right now?” he asks, trying his best to show that he’s concerned, not bossy. 

you sigh. “i wanted to drink more anyway. it’s - i would have drank more at the party.”

jihoon nods slowly. “if you’re going to drink, why don’t we go back to -”

“i don’t want to go home.”

“go back to my place,” he finishes. “i can take you home later.”

you sniffle and shrug your shoulders. “okay, i guess we can do that.”

“okay.” he nods, mostly to himself this time. “let me pay for this and we can go.”

once he’s done so, you get back into the car and open one of the bottles of soju. jihoon makes a face but doesn’t ask you to stop, so you take a deep gulp from it before replacing the cap and sliding the bottle into the cupholder. the drive is silent, this time. neither of you say anything until jihoon pulls into his own driveway, hopping out of the car and waiting for you to do the same before heading inside. 

you settle onto the couch after shedding your layers at the door, and jihoon disappears into the kitchen only to show up a few minutes later holding two steaming bowls of ramen. he hands you one, and you’re surprised by the familiar container. “my favorite.”

he hums, sitting down beside you with his own. “you told me about it when we were at the carnival. do you want to watch a movie?”

you nod slowly, taking a small sip from your soju - now onto the second bottle, you were taking things slower. you let him pick, something from the mcu, but you’re not paying any attention. you can’t help it. you can’t stop thinking about the way haejoon had shown up after all this time and only made things worse, how could he have possibly made anything worse after the way he’d treated you? and to find out he’d cheated, too - you don’t notice the tears streaming down your face or the way your chest is heaving until jihoon has pulled you close to him, wiping your eyes with a tissue. 

“please.” he whispers. “that piece of trash isn’t worth this.”

“it’s my fault, jihoon.” you sob. “something is wrong with me. why else - why else would he be like that towards me when he’s - he’s perfectly fine with her?” your entire body shakes as sobs wrack through your body, barely able to see jihoon through your tears. 

“no.” jihoon insists, firm. “it’s not you, it’s him, he’s not worth a rotting piece of shit, he’s less than that, please just - there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“i made him stop loving me.” you whimper, chewing at your lip.

“someone like him isn’t capable of love.” jihoon pauses. “and he isn’t worthy of yours, either.”

you reach for the bottle of soju before jihoon can stop you, downing the rest of it. “i loved him so fucking much, hoonie.” fresh tears fill your eyes. “i loved him so much and he didn’t give a shit about me, and it hurts so much.”

“i know, baby.” jihoon whispers. “i know exactly how you feel.”

the nickname strikes you in a funny way, knowing there’s no one here for him to pretend for, but you take it. “i hate him so much.”

“good.” jihoon grabs a new tissue to wipe your face with. “he deserves all that and more. i should have - i wish i would have -” he lets out a frustrated noise and clenches his fists. you reach out and unfurl one of them to intertwine your fingers. 

“thank you for what you did, jihoon.” you say softly, unable to look at him. “i’m sorry the party was ruined on my account.”

“stop that.” jihoon squeezes your hand. “it’s not your fault. it’s theirs, for showing up where they know they aren’t wanted. they knew something like that would happen. it’s what they wanted, i’m sure.”

“but -”

“no buts.” he insists. “eat your ramen.” he stands for a moment and walks back towards the kitchen, returning with a glass of water. “and drink this. your head is going to be pounding tomorrow.”

you take the glass from him and sip slowly as he sits back down on the couch, noticeably closer than he was before. he’s pressed up against you almost as if he’s trying to remind you that he’s there, if you need him. 

you wonder if he knows how much it means to you. 

[ampharos-writes]

Welcome Home

Statement #0160604 Author’s Name: Andrea Roberson Nature of Incident: The death of her childhood friend Apollo Byrne Date and Location: June 21, 2010, Casper, Wyoming, USA Date of Statement: September 19th, 2014

Statement

First of, no, of COURSE that wasn’t his real name. We were from… well, anywhere in Wyoming is “small town” Wyoming, but you get the picture. No, his real name was Ezekiel Jones. Frankly, I don’t think he even really needed to change it in the first place - Zeke Jones is pretty punchy, ZJ are cool initials for an autograph, stuff like that - but I’m pretty sure he hated being reminded of where he came from. Of who he was.

See, Zeke… Apollo, rather, was Mormon by birth. His parents had migrated up from Utah when their fortunes went down and their rent went up, and they’d been living just outside of Casper for something like 30 or 40 years when Apollo came around. The Joneses were simple folk. They had a small farm, just enough to make a living off of, and they kept to themselves. Quiet family. Not like Apollo. He was always loud, in-your-face, always fired up about something-or-other, always looking to live life as largely as he could possibly muster.

I’m not even sure how we became friends, really. We didn’t have that much in common. But there was something so… warm about him, so congenial, so inviting. He was easy to talk to. He was fun. And believe me, fun was hard to come by in Casper, but Apollo found a way. We found a way. For basically the entirety of our school days, we were best friends… and occasionally more than that, though in the end we mutually decided that wasn’t gonna work out.

I still remember the day he left. It was the summer after our senior year of college. I was planning on heading down to Boulder to study Biochem, and Apollo was… well, I don’t think he was quite sure what he wanted to do with his life. He had big dreams, that was for sure, but they were always just that, and I think I always kind of suspected that he would eventually settle down into that farm life he had always hated so much. I didn’t WANT him to, but I thought he would.

He didn’t, though. When he came to our usual meetup spot that day, it was hot enough that I was sweating through my t-shirt, but it was the only time I had seen Apollo look… cold. He didn’t say a word to me, just leaned against the wall and pulled out a cigarette, gaze fixed hard on something in the distance, something only he could see. I didn’t say anything either. We just sat there, frozen in time and space.

Eventually, he did speak, in a hoarse whisper almost too soft for me to hear. “I’m leaving,” he said. “California.”

We both knew he didn’t have the money to go to California. We both knew it didn’t matter. He’d find a way.

He threw his cigarette on the ground, stomped it out, then suddenly pulled me in hard for a hug. I couldn’t say how long it lasted. All I remember was the stillness of the moment, the warmth of the tears running down his cheeks. It was an instant, and it was an eternity.

And then he left. He walked away, and that was the last that I - or anyone - ever saw of Ezekiel Jones.

It certainly wasn’t the end of Apollo Byrne, of course. Everyone knows HIS story by now - one day he’s nobody, the next he’s got his big break in that one indie flick, and suddenly he’s Hollywood’s new heartthrob. A world renowned partier, philanthropist, and flirt - though he always stopped short of actually engaging in romantic contact with another person, so much so that he never even so much as kissed another actress on screen. I always thought that was somewhat odd. So yeah, the story of Apollo Byrne the movie star’s been done to death, but here’s the thing: I’m the only one who knows how it ends. How it [i]really[/i] ends.

ET did an interview with him, right before he… yknow. It was after they wrapped filming on his last flick, some action movie or other. They asked him what he was gonna do between then and the premiere, and he said that he had some things to sort out. That he was going home. I’m not much of an ET watcher, but I happened to have it on in the background the night that it aired. I was living in Denver at the time, and my parents were still in Casper, so it wasn’t that big a hassle to take some time off work and stay with them for a week or two. I told them I wanted to see them, of course, but also that I wanted to catch up with old friends. I didn’t mention Apollo by name. I’m still not sure why.

It was on the morning of my second day in Casper that I realized I didn’t actually know how I was gonna track Apollo down. He had to deal with paparazzi all the time, of course, but he had always been coy about which small town he was really from, so it was unlikely they’d track him this far, which meant I was on my own. Would he go to his parents? Something about the thought made me uneasy. He hadn’t complained about them [i]that[/i] much when we were kids, but he always seemed… disdainful, I think, of them and their lifestyle. Still, it wasn’t like I had any other leads, and I figured maybe they had at least kept in touch to SOME degree.

The fire had already started by the time I got there.

There was a stiff prairie breeze pushing the smoke steadily out into the open country, so it wasn’t a surprise that I was the first one on the scene, but the fact that there was a scene at all sent me into immediate shock. I had only been over here two or three times before, but it was so strongly associated with someone I had once cared so deeply about that to see it going up in flames was like a red-hot poker straight to my gut. I didn’t even think to call 911. I might have dropped my phone, I’m not even sure. All I know is that all of a sudden my legs were moving of their own volition, carrying me towards the roiling inferno, desperate to discover and rescue whoever might be inside.

The heat hit me before I was even inside, like opening an oven to check the readiness of the contents, but growing steadily more persistent, more intolerable, with each step I took towards the house. The acrid stench of smoke filled my nostrils as I slipped through the warped entryway, and I quickly wrapped my shirt around my face. Time was not on my side, and I quickly maneuvered past embers and debris, calling out when I dared, searching for anyone who might be trapped inside. 

Finding nobody on the first floor, I sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time to minimize my chances of stepping on the wrong one in the wrong way. As I rose, so did the temperature, growing hotter than I had previously thought possible. I recall thinking vaguely that the fire must have started on the second floor, but I quickly cleared the thought from my brain. It wasn’t important at the moment. What was important was making sure that whoever was in here (and for some reason, I was convinced that SOMEONE must be in here) would be OK. I moved down the hallway one room at a time, peeking through doorways when I was able, kicking down doors when I was not. Each room I checked was empty, and eventually I found myself face to face with the only unexamined room in the house: the master bedroom at the end of the hall. The doorframe was warped, blackened, and cracking under the pressure, with the interior of the cracks glowing the same angry red as the handle of the door. I ignored it, of course, and kicked it down.

Inside the room stood Apollo Byrne.

He stood shirtless, with his back to me. A thin sheen of sweat covered the tanned flesh, though it was somewhat… less than I would expect, given the conditions. His normally perfectly-coiffed hair was damp. He wasn’t doing anything. He was just… standing there. This was odd, of course, but my brain wasn’t quite processing on that level, and instinct took over as I called out to him, part of me relieved to see him and part of me rapidly panicking as I realized that he was in imminent danger.

He stiffened as he heard me call, and for a moment did nothing, but then he began to turn, and as he did so I was struck by the odd realization that I hadn’t seen him shirtless since high school, even amidst all the action films he had been involved in throughout the years. And when he finally turned around I saw why.

Exactly centered on his stomach, burned into the flesh, were the letters “J. F. F.” Jones Family Farms. His father’s personal brand.

That was, of course, the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was his face. He didn’t look flushed, didn’t look like he had been exerting himself, didn’t expect to look anything like you would expect someone who had been trapped in a house fire to look. His mouth was grinning, his teeth that Hollywood white, unblemished by plaque nor ash nor soot. His eyes were crying, the tears turning to steam on his cheeks.

The third thing I noticed were the charred and blackened corpses at his feet. I didn’t recognize them. Even the greatest medical examiner on the planet wouldn’t have been able to recognize them. But I didn’t have to be able to recognize them to know them.

Apollo was still looking at me as my eyes drifted back up to return his gaze. After a moment, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and took a puff. I hadn’t seen him take out a light.

Still grinning, still crying, he looked me dead in the eye and said, “You should go.” And I did.

I didn’t look back as I walked away from the Jones family homestead, but I did listen. I listened to the crackle of flames as they licked at the aging wood of the well-loved home. I listened to the occasional crash of a piece of the second floor falling to the first, or of a door finally losing the battle against its own frame. I listened to the dull roar of the thick black smoke as it trailed off into the clear blue sky. And I listened to the long, terrible, agonizing scream as for the final time in his life, Apollo burned.

Supplementary Comments

Well this is… interesting, to say the least. Receiving statements about celebrities always is, and it happens more frequently than one would think.

Apollo Byrne, born Ezekiel Jones, famously perished in a fire while visiting his family home in Casper on June 21st 2010, alongside both of his parents. He was an only child, and left behind no romantic partner or children of his own. The fire was discovered late in the day by a USPS driver come to deliver the day’s mail, and by then it was far too late to save the house or anyone inside.

Mrs. Andrea Roberson bears no apparent connection to Mr. Byrne save for their shared origin in Casper. At no point in the immediate aftermath of the events described did she attempt to take her story public, and at no point prior did she confide in anyone about her past relationship with Mr. Byrne. We can assume that a possible exception was her wife, one Shirley Chau, but she passed away in late 2012, apparently after a mishap in the kitchen of the restaurant she worked at.

Ara is attempting to secure permission for us to interview Mrs. Roberson, but doing so may be tricky, as the latter is currently serving a 30 year sentence in the Colorado State Penitentiary after multiple felony arson convictions.

-Amy A. Ampharos, Head Archivist February 21st, 2017

[lonelyshrimp]

What happened with your roomies if you don’t mind me asking...?

 Yknow what I’m in a mood and they don’t know my tumblr (haha they think I’m a cisstraight girl lol) so let’s get into some shit. Imma put everything under a read more bc imma rant a bit and this is gonna get long.

TW: food, unsanitary (general things not being kept clean, typically bathroom and kitchen related), drug use, fighting, slurs

tl;dr if you dont feel like reading this beast:

They steal what food i dare leave out in the kitchen rather tan keep in my room

They slam doors excessively, fight, yell horrible things to each other, have friends over yelling at like 2 am (last night for example)

Leave the doors unlocked and open?? We cant even lock the front door anymore??? (Dw the doors to our rooms all have locks. If I’m in my room or out of the house, my door is locked)

Constantly throw around the r slur. Like. All the time. Including one person having called me it. Y i k e s

One person keeps smoking in the house even though i’ve asked numerous times (and even have a note on my door) asking people to please smoke outside, it gives me headaches. You are physically hurting me stop.

Don’t Clean Anything. The kitchen is a wreck. The toilets are constantly clogging, I Am In Hell.

For context: the house is a one story house divided into a main floor and finished basement. It’s a rooming house and the basement is largely seperate from upstairs. (They have a kitchen door that they keep closed and locked.) The stairs to the basement are split into two smaller flights, with a landing in between the floors. That’s where the side door is. The public spaces upstairs are the kitchen (connects to stairs), the hallway, and the two bathrooms (big main one, tiny water closet by the front door). The rest of the upstairs is split into five rooms. For comprehension sake, we’ll call my roommates: The Couple (M&F), A, T, and J.

Mmkay lets start with the least egregious and move our way up, shall we? Theft! Of anything and everything! No one can have anything out in the public areas if they actually care about it. It. Will. Get. Stolen. Now, I have a mini fridge and the second biggest room here, so I’m lucky in that 99% of my groceries, as well as all my other belongings, fit in my room. There’s just a wee problem: I don’t have a freezer. Not to fear, past naïve me thought, I’ll just clean out and use the locked freezer since I still have the keys for that fridge! (We have two fridges and food theft was a problem beforehand and so me and my friend who lived here cleaned out the second fridge to use as our own and kept it locked.) I decided to do this after I had bought myself some ice cream, wrote my name on the top, and put it in the main freezer. I go to have some ice cream later that week, I open the tub for the first time (as in I removed the seal holding the lid onto the tub) to find that someone eaten half the tub of ice cream while making it seem like it hadn’t been opened. I know it happened at home bc the spoon marks were clear as day and I have to walk 20 minutes back from the grocery store. That woulda melted by then (Also I would’ve noticed at the store that. The tub was hella lopsided??? And way too light???) So yea of course I’m ticked now, I spent 6 bucks on that bro like just ask or get ur own??? So I put it the other freezer, and for a while it’s fine. Next month I decide to treat myself to some frozen waffles and some chicken strips and come home to find that the hinges holding the locks onto the doors of the fridge were torn out of the fridge/freezer doors. Like. The screws were pried outta this metal door rendering the locks completely useless (to the point i wouldn’t even be able to put the hinges back on.) And the cherry on top?? My ice cream was gone!!! Hope u enjoyed it, asshole. So whatever. Fine. I put my food away and. a week later?? Im like “Man i could go for some waffles rn”. I bought 2 8 packs. One chocolate chip, one cinnamon (y’all i literally buy the cheapest ones Zehrs sells. 2,19$ a box y’all. not even eggos). Surprise surprise!! The entire box of choccy chip ones GONE. Mind u, i wrote my name on all of these boxes, as well as a very large “DO NOT EAT”. so i begrudgingly had a couple (note that, 2) cinnamon waffles and move on. A couple days later I go to have some more and. The waffles are completely gone. Out of a total of 16 waffles, ya boy got a solid 2. (It’s worth noting that there was a single waffle left, but at 0,27$ a waffle, I didn’t mind leaving the box on the table with a note basically reading “these are cheap af, buy ur own bitch”.) (I didn’t swear that much tho)

I’d add the bike to the list but i can’t confirm nor deny that one of my roommates stole my tires and seat off my bike (although M does work on bikes all the time so man idk.)

Next up: wow people here are l o u d. I’m talking slamming doors all the time, slamming things around, yelling, playing music wildly loud. It’s awful. Like. You can just. Close the door quietly? Stop slamming things around please? It’s awful because loud sudden noises make me panic and lemme tell ya, wakin up at eight am bc your a-hole roommate decided to slam the door eight times bc the front door is broken because someone took the border around the jamb off instead of fixing it so we can actually?? lock that door?? because it doesnt quite fit in the jamb and so the only wat to lock it was the chain lock and. someone took that too so thats fun :)))))). The side door isn’t that much better. We have a code lock and. No One Ever Locks It. Like. I’ll come outta room and?? It’s just open????? Close the door???????????

The worst, however, is the fucking fighting. The Couple love to argue all the time. and yell at each other and slam the doors or smashing shit and they yell pretty awful things to each other. Like. I’ve heard M call his gf some awful shit. It’s worse when they have people over too. The other day there were like. 14 cops in here bc of them at like 2 am. Cue me, 2 am, trying to watch a livestream and seeing like??? Six cop cars pull up????? Wh a t????? Not fun not good for my brain.

God and. What is with everyone and the r slur??? Like what?? there are so many words you can choose stop using that word. Like okay the other night someone?? took the dc adapter for the wireless modem and one of the dudes downstairs as well as the couple were looking to see if they had a compatible dc adapter and so i just decided to wait?? and i just spaced out a bit okay whatever i was lookin at the wall like i do and fuckin. the couple had a couple friends over and one of em was chillin between the kitchen and the hall and M yells out from his room “Hey don’t you feel weird with this creepy ass bitch standing next to you? Like what is she, m*ntally r*tarded?” like wow okay dude i’m literally not doing anything. Luckily his friends reaction was basically “?? She lives here?? She can stand there if she wants??” (wow referring to myself as she feels weird and wrong).

A big problem I have is I feel like theres a community in this house that I just don’t fit into? Part of it is I’m like. the only person here who doesn’t do drugs of any kind?? Like I have nothing against ppl who use drugs like whatever bro, but it feels super othering to me when i can’t relate to anyone here because of it. That and. Getting T in particular but really just anyone but A to respect me asking that if you’re going to smoke anything to do it outside because weed and to a lesser extent cigarette smoke trigger my sensory disorder and causes me pain and causes sensory overload and I still find myself asking people to smoke outside.Like I’ve never been unreasonable and said “no drugs in the house” or some bs. I’m just asking u to respect my disability thanks.And like?? I’ll get into this in a second but there were needles in the toilet?? Bro throw them out properly.

And now: Hell.

Can no one clean up after themselves?? Do your dishes. If theres food left on your plate, throw it out first, don’t dump it in the sink. Seriously the kitchen sink is fucked. The kitchen is gross. The microwave ugh ugh ugh no thanks. No one can clean everything. This is why all my cookware and dishes are in my room. That way I can make sure I 1) Still Own It and 2) Its clean and usable. I clean them as I go and just use my own shit.

Nothing compares to the bathrooms, though. It seems like every other day one of the toilets are clogged. Last week there were spoons in the sink?? Like at least 10 spoons. In the bathroom sink. The floor is dirty because no one owns a mop and?? there was one in the kitchen?? I haven’t seen it in like a month. And the worst of all. Okay, it’s really bad when every one up here is between like. 16 and 19 I think? And I had to put up a sign in the bathroom asking people to flush when you’re done??? And I still have to flush before I can use the washroom???? And it feels like every week or so. The toilet’s clogged. Oh! I forgot to mention that the water closet doesn’t even have a doorknob anymore. Someone took it. But wait, it gets worse. Seriously if extremely unsanitary things bother u, stop reading now.

Twice in the past month I’ve had to contact the landlord because the toilets were beyond clogged. The first time was bad but oh lord nothing compares to the second time (aka last week). The first time was your pretty standard toilet clogs and backs up and its very gross. I contacted the landlord and it was fixed the next day and it was fine. For. Two Days. Im serious. See. People here have a real issue it seems of “The person before me didn’t flush so neither will I”, leading to a toilet bowl full of like. a half a roll of toilet paper and waste. F u n. What that led to was the toilet clogging, people not doing anything about it, and continuing to use it. Eventually the toilet bowl was full, so trow a shopping bag over the lid to mark the toilet as “Out of order” and move on to the other one.Both toilets were completely unusable. I emailed the landlord and i don’t know if either they or one of the people living here contacted them, but the old landlord and old property manager were here the other day to clean them out and fix them?? and yea among all the standard waste you’d expect in a toilet, there were needles? Like buddy theres a trash can right there? I know u had the needle caps bc they were in there too. just... disgusting...

bro this is just what i can think of off the top of my head i know theres more but oh no this is so long now. just. this is a lot more detail than u wanted but i wanted to get this out of my brain??

[leatherbookmarking]

OK SO WELCOME 2 GUSU LIVEBLOGGIN because i reblogged but didn’t comment, like a little worm,

(from ch1)

1. lxc listening to (i assume) mainsteam radio warms my heart to no end

2. god!!! i’ve been sitting in the same place since i was born, essentially, but the feeling of returning to a beloved place!!! is v nicely shown here.... dreamy sigh i went to one (1) summer camp (? trip? who knows) and hated it 65% of the time but let’s blame that on me being 11 and not entirely into the concept of “rich kids in a catholic school” concept (lmao guess what junior high i went to 2 years later) BUT based on this into alone (and quarantine yearnings) i would 100% abandon everything and fuck off to gusu at any given moment

3. lan zhan is so protective of gusu hhhgggggg i am soft like tapioca pearls

4. i am soft like overcooked tapioca pearls... the way camp elders act with lwj is so ughhhh and “zhanzhan” ZHANZHAN!!! MOM I DIE

5. (through tears) WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN FEEDING HIM, XICHEN

6. (while vibrating) family dynamicsssssss

7. “Wen Qing unceremoniously shoving Huaisang over to be able to sit next to Wangji“ i love a girl

8. loving how lwj chooses not to ask re: mysterious new staff member when he’s still in the car with xichen, yknow? so he can react to it in peace and privacy, and then, as everyone’s like, oh you KNOW, considering who’s joining us this year! (lwj internally: who) oh don’t you know yet! (lwj internally: WHO. WHO!!!) wouldn’t you like to know!!!

9. wei ‘of course i am not experiencing any negative emotions, what are you talking about, i am SMILING, see? happy!” wuxian strikes BACK oh how i love this stupid boy

10. i vaguely remember you saying something something i don’t want to write serious stuff, they’re xianxia characters in a summer camp setting!, and then i was like OH HO BUT BY ALL MEANS, and then you did, and then i’m like :’’’’’’’’’’’’) it’s fine.jpeg hurt me!! hurt me with sixteen years old boys on a summer camp!!!

11. back 2 the present and xichen once again wins the mvp title. “alright, here’s the thing--”

12. ALRIGHT, HERE’S THE THING

13. baby

14. “Xichen,” he repeats, almost desperately, but everyone else clearly sees the opportunity to leave this particular situation“ SITUATIONAL COMEDY AT ITS FINEST!!!!

15. absolutely in love w/ how everyone takes one (1) look at lwj and decides ha! this sounds like a he problem! bye!!!

16. even xichen

17. ESPECIALLY XICHEN!!!

18. MIANMIAN MIANMIAN MIANMIAN being tiny!!! hugging lan zhan!!! i love you!!!

19. “you’re the one getting shorter” okay ao MAYBE my heart burst in my chest from sheer tenderness, but also maybe it DIDN’T. can you prove it? thought so!!!

20. tapioca update: it didn’t go well. however! if you ever need wallpaper glue,

21. picturing jc wrangling nhs fills me with so much joy also

22. GOD!!! wwx standing on top of the stairs!!! time stopping!!! ‘oh no he’s hot’!!!! LAN ZHAN YOU GAY DISASTER

23. lan zhan: Processes how hot wwx has gotten

wwx: STILL THE DEATH GLARE HUH :’D

Do I Have To Say Anything

24. “Wei Wuxian tries to match his death glare, a very valiant attempt for someone with a face as animated as him, and gives up about three seconds later, bursting into laughter“

CUTE!!!!!!!

25. THE EXODUS!!! AH THE DRAMATIC EXODUS!!!!! i am a BIG slut for “ugh you HAD to come back and LIGHT A FIRE IN MY CHEST AGAIN, you ASSHOLE >:/” moments, the SLUT LEVEL in me overshadows jin guangshan’s, i am QUEEN SLUT for moments like those B L E S S

in which we move onwards to ch2. will i embarrass myself further with excessive exclamation marks? let’s find out!!!!

26. “wow. you’re doing such a good job selling me this“ i was already in heart eyes over the bros but this line just!!! lol

27. IS LAN ZHAN GOING TO BE THERE

28. [DRAFT]!!!!!!!!!

29. lan xichen is having at least as much fun as i have with this situation, and i love it

30. but he does have the courtesy to look ashamed

31. from time to time :-)

32. but not always :-)

33. lan “brother i love you but you and wei wuxian should be KISSING as we speak so don’t you ‘you didn’t’ me :>” xichen

34. “do you remember how many rules he broke” you sure it’s just the RULES, my boy

35. i’m honestly, honestly really loving lxc here. like yes the two main idiots are delightful but... zewu-jun.... cute....

36. “all the other things his head is suggesting he do“ SNORT is “sit on the floor and sulk about wei wuxian daring to exist, and like this” one of them gfkhgfsk

37. “surely there’s no way in hell xichen would“ xichen, as soon as wangji went to his cabin: please. please. PLEASE

38. the part about crown shyness is tiny but so pretty. i feel severely lacking in summer camp tree trivia now

39. “And then Wangji sees him, and all rational thought promptly abandons him for dead“ wangxian summed up in one sentence (jk)

40. SO UH IS HE SINGLE i wholeheartedly enjoy wwx being Whacked

41. “when Wei Wuxian recalls the people who used to, and still should be, standing by his side, he only meets with a dismissive ‘Long story’ from his brother, and a somewhat nervous ‘I’ll tell you later’ from Nie Huaisang” oh? oh??  oh??? OH?????

42. oh yeah i forgot 2 mention before but lwj playing the guitar makes me feel... things... like yeah string instruments BUT guqin is so fancy and dignified, meanwhile guitar is... somehow... i mean of course lwj is a pro and makes everyone swoon playing the easiest chords but the THING is guitar is such a friend-shaped instrument... i need to lie down hold up

43. A NING A NING A NING A NINGGGGGGGG THE BOY IS HERE!!! making wwx almost inhale his harmonica no less! king of powerful entrances, truly

44. “what really happened to Nie Huaisang’s older brother, who was once ride-or-die for both Gusu and Lan Xichen (he got a job very far abroad, that’s all Wen Ning knows, and Wei Wuxian promises himself he’s going to pour some alcohol into Huaisang eventually to make him spill the beans)“ vibrates, at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings

45. the grass scene is wonderful 2 me for two reasons: one, WWX PLAYING A BLADE OF GRASS. i just watched a yt vid in which a dude does make it actually play, which is amazing, but my experience consists mostly of emitting one PTWEEEEET and making everyone almost jump out of their skins. good times! two, the contrast between this scene and the one in ep2... cql: wuji.mp3, slowmo, passionate gazes, wtg: wwx torturing a blade of grass, STILL making lwj (wayward) come to him. true love!!! truly true love!!!

46. yells @ wwx’s cute habit still being present

47. the following scenes are too gentle and sweet for me to formulate coherent thoughts.... i’m just sitting here, chihanding, sighing dreamily, thank you, bless

48. “Lan Zhan he once knew is still in there“ ah, sensei, sorry, i won’t be submitting my thesis this year.... i need at least six months to cope with this sentence... ご迷惑をかけて申し訳ございません

49. BABY WANGXIANS bonding over rabbits... lan zhan looking almost proud when wwx mentions his big brother...

50. “WE’RE GOING TO HAVE A GREAT SUMMER, YOU AND I” OI!!! WEI WUXIAN!!! WEI YING!!! is it legal to be so (gestures) CUTE at the tender age of nine??? hm???

[bironism]

Re: your last reblog. Was Percy... dare I say, homophobic? Am I reading this right? I always assumed there was something going on between him and Byron and I’m ???

First of all, there was lots going on between him and Byron! Platonic, romantic, the rest to be speculated - and please do send me your speculations on that, if you have some! My umbrella term here is they were definitely in love with each other, interpret as you will. 

As for homophobia… @theetonatheist has a great post that can serve as a Shelley & same-sex attraction 101: essentially, Shelley was a-okay with same-sex romantic feelings and attraction (ft. a literal love letter, kisses, much intimacy,,,) but there was ‘homophobia’ in the sense that he did not view mlm sexual attraction/activity’s merits comparable to that for women; the post mentions that Shelley had trouble expressing himself sexually, and yeah, that could be a factor. Idk. I’ll say more when I know more, hm?)

For the specific quote in question… Yes, if we take that text alone, it’s possible to interpret “particular dispositions in Lord B’s character” as referring to his more overt bisexual affections which would then “render the close & exclusive intimacy with him […] intolerable.“ With that premise, the latter is rather funny™ to interpret - I mean, “intolerable”? Oof boy…

But as fun as it is to speculate, context leads me to believe Shelley did not refer to Lord B.’s sexuality at all and just meant to say “Byron is a bitch”. And since I love nothing better than procrastinate my thesis AND work, here we go: 

The letter quoted in the post was from March 2, 1822. Now, Shelley and Byron had had disagreements before that, and Percy had from the beginning been critical of some aspects to Byron - what I mean to say, he was very well able to call B. “an exceedingly interesting person”  and “a slave to the vilest & most vulgar prejudices” in the same letter (to Peacock, shortly after he & B. first met), and variations thereof many times over the years. In short, Shelley had continuously been critical of B.’s low/base(st)/vile/society-induced inclinations/prejudices/behaviours.

In February, 1822, Shelley wrote, also to Hunt: “Many circumstances have occured between myself & Lord B. which make the intercourse painful to me…”

What were these circumstances? This was after the time Shelley spent time with Byron in Pisa and B. was having lots of friends around to party, sleeping around, classic Byron - some of them creating drama, some of them fixing themselves clarets till 3am, which got Percy’s nerves “generally shaken to pieces”. Oh yeah, and there was a bet that Byron lost and did not pay, despite yknow, being loaded, and another particularly bad discussion about money that Shelley wrote to Hunt about. But most probably it was Byron believing (or Shelley thinking so) that Shelley had a child with, oh you guessed it, Claire Clairmont (to whom Shelley also wrote in February 1822 that he wants nothing to do with B. anymore, based on his “basest insinuations”).

So, the letter from March 2: what’s that about, then? Right after the ‘dearest friend’ part, Shelley wrote: 

"The aspect of affairs has somewhat changed since the date of that in which I expressed a repugnance to a continuance of intimacy with Lord Byron so close as that which now exists - at least it has changed as regards you & the intended journal. […] I imagine it will be no difficult task to execute that which you have assigned me - to keep him in heart with the project until your arrival.” 

In other words, Shelley says he’s only being amicable with Byron for Hunt’s interests, the journal: and no wonder he tells Hunt about it, I mean who better to bitch to about the ”intimacy […] in which I find myself” than the person he’s supposedly doing it for:

“Particular circumstances, or rather I should say, particular dispositions in Lord B’s character render the close & exclusive intimacy with him in which I find myself, intolerable to me; thus much my best friend I will confess & confide to you.”(the quote from the post)

Percy does not go on to explain any of that, and seems really to just hint at the previous letter (meaning either money or the Claire debacle). And after that, we have Shelley’s promise that:

“No feelings of my own however shall injure or interfere with what is ever nearest to them - your [Hunt’s] interest, & I will take care to preserve the little influence I may have over this Proteus in whom such strange extremes are reconciled until we meet…”

Conclusion? “Strange extremes” and “dispositions” definitely stand for Byron’s excesses (or, yknow, LiFesTyLe and possibly the disposition to get invested in rumours) and “Proteus” for his whims. This all, with the critique of money, with Shelley entertaining Byron to keep him interested in the journal project like he’s an obnoxious kid with a two second attention span, with Shelley warning Hunt against Byron’s momentary generosity implying it’s just another whim of his, really suggests: ‘Byron is a manchild’ rather that ‘Aw fuck a Homo’. 

Oh right, and Jun 18, 1822, Shelley wrote to a dude named John Gisborne that:

“I detest all society - almost all, at least - and Lord Byron is the nucleus of all that is hateful and tiresome in it. […] Lord Byron is so mentally capricious that the least impulse drives him from his anchorage.” 

So yeah, Percy was just done with B.’s whimsy bullshit here. But still, but still, it was B. who was the ‘genius’ Shelley kept looking up to, on whose address Shelley wrote that there was “no other with whom it is worth contending,” who made Shelley question himself as a poet, feeling Byron won the ‘best of the generation’ thing, fearing obscurity in comparison; still, it’s B.’s ‘futile’ opinions Shelley chose to immortalise; and still, the two were fond of each other. 

[fanficsofmine]

Wake Me Up - Chapter 3

Summertime. Young. Single. Free.

You were living your dream life. You had a great place, amazing friends and a steady job. Independent and happy and free, what more could you ask for?

You didn’t think that meeting Chanyeol at a concert or Minho on the beach would influence your life as much as they did. They weren’t supposed to, anyway.

What exactly are you to do with whirlwind romances that show up when you weren’t expecting them?

Characters: Park Chanyeol, Choi Minho, OC’s and appearances by others.

Soundtrack: Geronimo - Sheppard

Chapter 1, 2

We couldn’t stay late this time. We had added several hours to our trip home and both Presley and I had to be at work early in the morning. It was hard to say goodbye, though. Chanyeol and I linked pinkies as we walked to the car. My heart sank more and more with every step. We exchanged phone numbers on the way, and he promised to FaceTime me from the road as often as he could.

He got to the passenger side with me, but neither of us reached for the handle to open the door. I reached down and fiddled with his shirt. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get this back to you…”

He reached down and cupped my chin, gently forcing me to make eye contact with him. “This isn’t the last time that I’m going to see you. We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

I smiled at his promise and nodded. He leaned forward and gave me another small kiss before Kihyun, from the drivers side with Presley said, “we really should let them get on the road.” We all agreed and Chanyeol finally opened my door for me. I got into the car and, after one final kiss to my forehead, he shut it.

We started driving home, and I promised to stay up with Presley as best as I could. We talked about her future with Kihyun and what they were going from here. The only answer she had for me was a shrug.

“I missed him. It was like a wave crashed on me when I saw him again, yknow?” I did know. That feeling was all too familiar for me, which is why it made me nervous.

“You don’t think you’re just forgetting the bad to focus on the good? I mean, you told me a ton of stuff he had done to you. I just don’t want bad habits to repeat just because y’all had a good weekend.”

“If they do,” she said, “then at least I got to experience the rush of being giddy again.”

“You don’t want to experience the rush of being giddy over someone new?”

“Different rushes.” Presley looked at me and smiled. “Why? New rush overwhelming you a bit.”

I was glad it was dark, because I knew that I had blushed. I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I… uh… I’m not really sure where that came from.”

“You’re the last person I ever expected to have something like that happen to you.” Presley said. “You’ve been so shut off from the idea of a relationship lately.”

Nodding, I said, “I know. After Mark…” I rolled my eyes. “But maybe that’s why this happened; because I wasn’t looking for it? Does that make sense?”

The drive was rough. Over halfway, I ended up taking over for Presley since she was struggling to keep her eyes open. We made it back to my apartment around 4 am, and both immediately crashed out. Presley made it to the couch and didn’t even wait for me to get her a change of clothes or a blanket. I was fairly certain that I had fallen asleep while walking to my room.

My alarm rang at 7:30 and I whined. I knew that I couldn’t call in. My boss had overheard me talking about my trip, so she had made a comment in passing about “making sure I show up on Monday.” I woke Presley up so she could use the second bathroom to get ready and she rummaged through my closet for work clothes to wear. After a quick shower and light make up, I trudged my way out the door in an outfit that, more than likely, wasn’t going to be considered “professional” enough. I was too exhausted to care though.

My morning conference started out as hell. The coffee I had made at the office had run out too quickly and was taking its time in letting its caffeine kick in. There was no way that everybody around me didn’t notice my eyes flutter closed once or twice. At one point, my coworker Jongdae kicked me under the desk to jolt me awake. I appreciated the gesture, but would have liked his kick to hurt less. Eventually, though, the meeting ended. My boss reiterated the importance of finishing the reports due tomorrow and I nodded as I headed off to my desk to plug headphones in and to block out everyone else.

Punching numbers and collecting data for things such as stock increases and decreases was boring enough as it was. Add in that, tomorrow, my extra quarterly report of what the budget increases would allow for pay increases, and my day felt set up for failure. I groaned to myself that I would never, ever take a trip like that again when I heard a voice over my headphones.

“Long weekend?”

I spun to see Jongdae standing there with a venti from Starbucks stretched out to me.

“I am 99 percent sure that you are my guardian angel.” I gasped as I reached out for the coffee, without even knowing what was inside of the cup. Luckily, Jongdae and I had done enough coffee runs together that he knew how to flavor my coffee for me.

“One day,” he started as he pulled a chair up next to me, “I’m going to get you something completely different, just to watch your face when you take a sip.” I laughed, but silently feared that day.

“How was the trip?” he asked. Jongdae was my one coworker I could be completely honest with. We had trained together, and he and his girlfriend, Nikki, were one of the only other couples I could tolerate being around without feeling like a third wheel.

I thought about how I was going to answer, but Jongdae said, “ahhh! What’s that smile for?!” My hand flew to cover my mouth and I realized that, just even thinking about Chanyeol had brought a grin to my lips.

Embarrassed, I shushed him before spilling the whole story. His eyes grew wide as he said, “wait, wait, wait. Miss ‘I cancel a date because a guy called me pretty so he’s obviously moving too fast’ has met her match?”

“Shut up, Dae.” I rolled my eyes. “Let’s be honest. Now that the weekend is over, I’ll probably never hear from him again.”

Saying those words out loud settled some disappointment in my chest that I didn’t dare show outwardly.

As if the universe was laughing at me, in that exact moment, my phone lit up on my desk. Chanyeol’s name flashed across the screen and my cheeks grew warm.

“Sure. Never again.” Jongdae winked at me and stood up to leave my office. I thanked him again for the coffee, then, after a quick scan to make sure my boss wasn’t around, I opened the text.

Received text: Good morning, gorgeous.

Sent text: Good morning sleeping beauty.

Received text: hey! In my world, waking up before 11 is waking up early.

Sent text: oh the life of a rock star. It must be so difficult to be you.

Received text: thank you for acknowledging my struggle.

Received text: I hope your morning hasn’t been too rough.

Sent text: I’m pretty exhausted.

Sent text: ...but it was worth it.

Received text: I’m glad to read that. What time are you off? Wanna FaceTime before my show tonight?

Sent text: sure! I’ll try to leave by 5:30.

Received text: I’ll talk to you soon then.

I laid my phone back down and got butterflies all over again. He wanted to FaceTime?! It was only one day, but he was genuinely making an effort. I started to wonder how long that would last, but I also knew that I couldn’t do that to myself. I needed to enjoy this for what it was. Whatever it was- it was nice.

Making sure I had hit send on my reports, I grabbed my bag and bolted out of the doors at exactly 5:30 pm. Jongdae told me to slow down and shouted something about leaving when he still has reports to do. I waved my phone at him and told him I would fill him in tomorrow, which didn’t lessen his whines.

Thankful I lived close, I sped home, only slowing down for red lights and the one speed trap that I knew a cop hid behind. I don’t even remember running to my apartment and unlocking the door. Desi’s voice was laced with confusion as she asked if I was okay as I sprinted past her in the kitchen to get to my room. I said, “tell you in a minute!” before shutting the door and sitting on my bed. I took a deep breath, opened my front facing camera to make myself look less disheveled, and then pulled up Chanyeol’s contact name to hit “call.”

It only rang a few times before his face filled my screen. The giddy feeling was back. He beamed at me and I couldn’t help but smile back at his infectious grin.

“She lives!” he cheered.

“Barely! I’m surprised I’m even awake right now. You should feel special that I didn’t come home from work and just pass out.”

“Well thank you for gracing me with your presence!” he teased.

We talked about my day and my job. He asked for details on the reports I had to be done, and it was nice to talk to someone so genuinely interested in learning about me. He told me about their drive from Austin to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Apparently Kihyun and Dojoon had argued about Presley and what it meant for the band since the last time, apparently there was drama.

“It’s great song writing material, isn’t it?” I joked. Subconsciously, I got worried that this would mean bad news for Pres in the future.

Chanyeol shrugged. “Not my relationship. Not my business. They tried to bring you up too but I told them that was my business, not theirs.” I felt a twinge if guilt for gushing about him to other people when he seemed to want to keep it between us, but that faded when he finally said, “I did end up telling them that I thought you were great and I couldn’t wait to get to know you better.”

His ears turned red and he bit his bottom lip, waiting for my reaction to his confession.

“Well, Chanyeol, the feeling is definitely mutual.”

Relief crossed his face and I heard Kihyun in the background calling out to him.

Chanyeol looked disappointed as he said, “I guess it’s time for our sound check. I’ll text you after the show?” I nodded and told him I would talk to him later.

The second that we hung up, Desi threw my bedroom door open.

“Who. the. hell. was. that?!” Her eyes were wide and each word was accented heavily

I buried my face in a pillow and began laughing. She sat down and I filled her in on the whole story. I told her Chanyeol was the reason we had gone to Austin and added an extra day to the trip. I showed her his shirt that I had kept. She stared at me in disbelief.

“You hate love!” she shouted at me.

“I do not!” I objected.

“Yes you do!” Collin called ou tfrom the other room.

“Hey! I didn’t receive your RSVP to this conversation!” I yelled back.

Desi laughed but said, “this is good! This is growth! You’re opening up! That’s amazing.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not getting married tomorrow. I’m just…” pausing, I realized that I had no clue what I was doing. “What the hell am I doing?!” I looked at her and she shook a finger at me.

“Don’t you dare start that! Don’t do that thing where you overthink things!”

“I’m offended at your accusation!” I swung my pillow at her.

“Give this a chance,” Desi’s voice was soft and serious. “You deserve to be happy in love again.”

Sighing, I told her she was right.

We ordered delivery and, immediately after, I passed out. I was so exhausted from not sleeping for most of the weekend that, although I wanted to wait up for Chanyeol’s text, I knew that it wasn’t going to happen.

The next morning, I woke up and, after shutting off my alarm, saw one unread message from Chanyeol on my phone.

Received text: I hope you’re sleeping well, lovely. Talk to you in the morning.

I pulled my phone close to my chest and couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips. Maybe this was going to be a very good thing after all.